<p><em>Theodore Scott Westhusing</em>, born November 17, 1960 in Dallas, TX, entered the United States Military Academy from Jenks, OK in the summer of 1979. As a plebe, Ted was lean and lanky; quiet yet observant. If you didn’t know better, you might think he didn’t know or care what was going on around him, but you’d be wrong. Gifted with amazing physical and mental talents, Ted’s favorite pastimes (other than studying—a true star man!) were listening to music, playing basketball, and playing devil’s advocate. He loved music; if we heard him listen to “Smoky Mountain Rain” once, we heard it a thousand times. A shooting guard, he helped lead the F-1 team twice to a Brigade Intramural Championship. As devil’s advocate, he forced us all to examine our thinking by taking a contrary position, regardless of what he actually believed.<br />Held in high esteem by all, Ted was elected to represent our company on the Cadet Honor Committee. Ted’s incredible integrity and strong character were readily visible to everyone he met. While an exchange cadet at the Air Force Academy, his peers on the Honor Committee selected him as chairman, the only cadet captain position selected by cadets.<br />Graduating third overall in our class, highest of all cadets with physics as an area of study, he was the first infantryman to select his assignment and chose the coveted Airborne Battalion Combat Team (ABCT) in Vicenza, Italy.<br />Ted studied Russian as a cadet and nearly caused an international incident when the ABCT went to Berlin for training. He spoke to East German guards manning a checkpoint, extolling the virtues of freedom and democracy over communism. His soldiers spoke proudly of “their LT” who had the guts to tell armed guards, in Russian no less, that they were on the losing side.<br />Ted wasn’t able to attend a classmate’s wedding in the United States in June 1984, but his sponsor, Lieutenant Colonel Mike Montie did. Montie wrote Ted about a young woman he met at the reception: Michelle Sparks of Memphis: “I’ve just met the woman you should marry. Write to her.” Ted did and a romance ensued. We knew it was serious when Ted deployed to Honduras for six months and left her his Italian sports car. They married at Fort Bragg, NC in 1989 and had three incredible children.<br />As a company commander in the 82nd Airborne Division, Ted was an innovative trainer. Long before anyone talked about functional fitness, Ted had his company doing the things that mattered in developing real strength and a fighting spirit in his paratroopers. One morning, as they were running along Ardennes Street, Ted came upon a low building he thought would be a perfect obstacle course. He led his 100 soldiers up the side, across the roof and down again. A huge dust-up ensued: this was the Division Education Center. The civilians inside were administering a written test and thought they were under attack or feared that the roof would cave in. His battalion commander, Lieutenant Colonel (eventually General) D.K. McNeill, disappointed those at the Ed Center that might have hoped for severe punishment. He gave Ted a slap on the wrist and a pat on the back for his motivational leadership.<br />Beyond his family and the Army, Ted loved cycling, a sport he began in Italy. As with all his passions, Ted was all-in. He rode his custom-made Italian bike in the Dolomites of Italy, the Fort Bragg training area, and the Hudson Highlands in fair weather or foul. It wasn’t unusual for him to log 300 miles or more in a week. As a sign of his generosity and to fuel his need to ride, Ted became the officer representative of the Cadet Cycling Team while he served as faculty at USMA in the mid-1990s.<br />Preordained to teach physics, Ted decided that philosophy was more in line with his instincts to challenge his own and others’ thinking. He studied Ancient Greek and could recommend the best translations of the classics (Lombardo’s Iliad and Fagles’ The Odyssey). In 2005, during his second tour teaching philosophy at West Point, Ted volunteered to serve in Iraq. He felt compelled to see for himself the application of violence and ethics that he knew so well in theory. He thought this was essential for his ability, and perhaps his credibility, to instruct cadets who were destined for service in Iraq or Afghanistan. Ted didn’t need a combat tour to know what was just or unjust; he’d spent his adult life studying questions of war and morality. But Ted Westhusing was a role model, a leader, and an Infantryman. He felt a duty to serve in combat, instead of staying safely ensconced at West Point. The struggle between Athens (academics) and Sparta (military) is legendary at the Military Academy, but, if there were ever a graduate who could find balance between these two ideals, it was Ted. <br />When he died on June 5, 2005, Colonel Ted Westhusing was the highest-ranking soldier killed in the war at that time. He left all us asking questions of how and why but never questioning his love of family, friends, Army, and country. His daughter Sarah is a beautiful singer, manifesting Ted’s love of music, and she has given him a grandson named Teddy. His sons, Aaron and Anthony, are excellent basketball players, manifesting Ted’s love of that game and competing at the collegiate level. Buried in the West Point Cemetery, he is now and forever part of the landscape of monuments to Duty, Honor, and Country. <br /><em>— Michael P. Lerario, classmate</em></p>