<p>
When you read this, I shall, of course, be gone, but I did not go willingly, nor gladly. I always was possessed with an unbounded zest for life that I reveled for all it was worth.</p>
<p>
As far back as I can remember, I wanted to be a soldier. At USMA, I was the grossest of cadets—at least initially. I was constantly deficient in math and on "corrective exercise" everything! Somehow, I muddled through, graduating in the upper 89% of my class—and even passing the turnout exam in analytical geometry—a<strong> </strong><em>first</em> for that event, so I’m told.</p>
<p>
I had a hugely satisfying, but rather varied and bizarre, career in that I never was a staff officer but always a commander of sorts. I never was an S-1, 2, 3 or 4 or a G-1, 2, 3 or 4. Some of my commands were only small detachments, to be sure, but commands they were. I enjoyed tours with the Quartermaster Corps, Military Government, the Judge Advocate General Department, NATO, ROTC, and DIA (in the satellite reconnaissance business) was a National Guard advisor, and was Commandant of the Army Intelligence School of the Pacific. But the real ego trip was command of American soldiers in any capacity. I’ve had more than my share of responsibility and combat. I commanded a rifle company in Normandy at age 21 and an Infantry battalion in the Korean War at age 28. To make colonel was my primary goal, which I achieved earlier than expected. Sorry to say, I <em>never</em> had the pleasure of serving with a classmate.</p>
<p>
I was supremely lucky in marrying a girl who loved the military as much as I did. Josie always was ready for a new assignment and a new post. She and my two sons accompanied me whenever possible. Two grandchildren arrived later on.</p>
<p>
I became addicted to golf. The lush, endless fairways, soft summer days, and the unspoken camaraderie of a regular foursome were heaven on earth for me!</p>
<p>
To sum it up, I thought I was a good officer, Lord knows I was a good soldier. I loved the Army and my soldiers. I’m sure they recognized this, as they seemed to reciprocate in kind.</p>
<p>
So now I depart the scene, leaving a small void behind—missed by a few and not aware of being detested by any. I shall wait patiently in Arlington National Cemetery for my Josie to come to me, then we shall go hand-in-hand again, to our final PCS, and maybe even a permanent starting time.</p>
<p>
Sayonara,</p>
<p>
<em>Warren R. Hecker Jun ’43</em></p>