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<p>The Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, DC, is a place like no other. It is hallowed ground. Grown men are moved to tears in its presence, family members clutch one another in silent contemplation of the vast panels and rows, and hands are irresistibly drawn to tenderly touch the engraved names. Crowds of tourists and schoolchildren alike are moved to silence as they approach the dark granite shadows. The roll call of the names is overpowering—names that represent plans and dreams unfulfilled, names that now evoke memories, tears, and silence. One name is particularly meaningful to members of the Class of ’70: Panel 2W, Line 65: <em>Howard Marshall Steinfeld.</em></p>
<p>Marshall was born in Galveston, TX, the son of Howard and Marie Steinfeld. Marshall’s father had left the family farm in south central Texas during the Depression and enlisted in the Army. Following Officer Candidate School, he was commissioned a lieutenant in the Infantry. He married Marie Kuehnle of Houston in 1942. During WWII, Howard fought in North Africa and Italy, was wounded, and transferred to the Transportation Corps.</p>
<p>The Army was part of Marshall’s earliest memories. Stationed in Galveston, the family lived in military quarters just off of the beaches guarded by the empty bunkers of the WWII coastal artillery defenses. Later, the Army sent the family to Ft. Bliss, Oakland, and then Houston, while Marshall’s father was in Korea. After the war, they moved to Japan, and then to New Orleans. In 1958, Marshall’s father retired from the Army and returned to the family farm near Brenham.</p>
<p>Farming was in Marshall’s blood. He loved animals, and was skilled in operating farm equipment. His prize pig, Takusan (a name recalling Marshall’s school days in Japan), was regional grand champion. Marshall excelled in school and graduated with honors from Brenham High School, winning first place awards in statewide physics and chemistry competitions, as well as numerous other academic awards.</p>
<p>Marshall always wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a soldier. Howard encouraged Marshall’s pursuit of this dream, and together they developed a training regimen to help him qualify for West Point. Marshall tirelessly ran the backcountry roads, performed calisthenics, and did countless pull-ups on a bar in the farm tool shed. Marshall passed his qualifying examinations with flying colors and was accepted into the Class of ’70.</p>
<p>Despite his preparations, Stein almost did not make it to Beast Barracks. He contracted pneumonia after graduation and was still quite weak on R-Day, but his steely determination would let nothing dissuade him from his goals. He breezed through West Point, excelling in academics and mastering the challenges of military life.</p>
<p>Stein was a star man for much of his cadet career, and he was among the top of our class in chemistry. He was fluent in German and spent one cadet summer in Germany for Army Orientation Training.</p>
<p>Although usually quiet and studious, Stein had a quick wit and a mischievous sense of humor. He often surprised us by breaking into a stirring rendition of his favorite ballad, “Do Not Forsake Me, Oh My Darlin’,” at the most opportune moments. To this day, even passing reference to the movie <em>High Noon</em> stirs in many classmates a warm remembrance of Stein. At West Point, he became a Texan’s Texan, purchasing his first pair of cowboy boots and playing non-stop country and western music for all to hear. He displayed a large Texas flag on the wall in his room, and often played cat and mouse with the Tactics Department, hanging the flag out various windows in North Area. They never caught him.</p>
<p>Stein loved the Academy and the Army. He joined the orienteering team to hone his navigational and physical skills, and as with every cadet endeavor, he excelled. His ferocious resolve and an iron will drove everything he did. He made the challenges of academics and the military regimen of West Point look easy, and he was always willing to lend a helping hand to fellow cadets.</p>
<p>Upon graduation, Stein chose the Corps of Engineers as his branch and immediately volunteered for Viet Nam. He wanted to be in the middle of the action and was concerned that the war would draw to a close before he could make his contribution. He spent graduation leave touring Germany by motorcycle and, following Airborne and Ranger schools and Officer Basic, he reported for duty at Ft. Hood, in his beloved Texas. He deployed to the 101st Airborne Division in Viet Nam in the summer of 1971.</p>
<p>Sadly, a construction accident at Phu Bai on 5 Nov 1971 shortened Marshall’s promising military career. His engineer unit was repairing a chapel that had been damaged in Typhoon Hester. Marshall was on the roof, supervising his soldiers and inspecting the progress of the work, when he fell and was electrocuted at the construction site.</p>
<p>With Marshall’s death, our Army lost a talented leader, and our class lost a close friend. His lack of pretense, coupled with a fierce resolve toward life, ensured that Marshall was both well liked and successful in every undertaking. Virtually all in Brenham turned out for his funeral. Honorary pallbearers included his entire high school graduating class and all the teachers of the Brenham public schools. Several teachers eulogized him at the funeral, and Marshall was remembered as one of the finest and most memorable students they had ever taught.</p>
<p>Farmer, scholar, soldier: Marshall was a man of many talents. He was our role model and inspiration. Sadly, he left us early, when we were all filled with hopes and dreams, wondering which paths to take. Even then, Marshall knew from the depths of his heart what path he wished to take, and he set an example for all. He left us while doing that which he loved most...leading soldiers in serving our great nation.</p>
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