The Ten

There was always a focus on all the kids going to college. Education was important to both of Jeff’s parents; Bob went to night school after a full day of work and Rose Marie hadn’t been afforded the opportunity to go to college (although she was an A student in high school). Rose Marie had to work to help support her mother with the household as her father had passed away when Rose Marie was a year old. Bob and Rose Marie both believed that for the kids to have a good start in life, a college education was a must.

Earlier in Bob’s life, he signed a professional contract to play baseball for the Boston Braves organization right out of high school, and Rose Marie had brothers who were also into sports. Therefore, interest was high in the family to participate in sports. Three of the four boys played three different sports during the year, and one played two. At thirteen years old, Jeff started his own lawn mowing service in his neighborhood and gained some income from it.

At 13, Jeff mowed lawns since he didn’t want to burden his parents with college tuition. After all, paying for five kids to get through college wasn’t going to happen, and it wouldn’t be fair to pay for some and not others.

Fast-forward to Jeff’s visit to West Point with his parents. I asked Jeff to give me some thoughts about his first campus visit—his feelings as he strolled through the lush green campus, viewed the beautifully designed architecture and saw men marching in order on the practice fields. Jeff replied, “Well … one of my first recollections on my recruiting trip was the coach telling me that back in high school I must feel like a big fish in a small pond, and if I chose to go to West Point, I’d be a small fish in a big pond, and how did I feel about that.”

“After all, everyone attending West Point was a high achiever scholastically, with the vast majority being varsity lettered. Many were captains of their teams, and some were All-Conference and All-State. If I chose West Point to play ball, all the athletes around me were All-Americans, or close. Could I adapt and perform? I remember thinking to myself that excellence all around me would only make me better, so I was not intimidated by it. My parents put opportunities in front of us, and they instilled gratitude and the importance of helping others.”

The transition out of high school and into West Point was extremely challenging. Jeff had broken his wrist with two games left in his senior football season as quarterback at Trumbull High. The injury caused him to miss his basketball season altogether. Jeff had to wear a cast on his left forearm during the baseball season that followed, so after he got to West Point, his arm was still regaining strength. All plebes (West Point language for freshmen) got placed into Beast Barracks for the first seven weeks on campus, which was designed to instill discipline. “Within the first hour of getting dropped off, your head is shaved bald, then you are given black Army boots and uniforms, and you start marching on that first day!” Jeff related.

As a plebe, Jeff was told there were only four things to remember that plebes were allowed to say all year to any upper-level cadet*:
• Yes sir!
• No sir!
• Sir, I did not understand!
• No excuses, sir!
Upper-level cadet designations at West Point are as follows:
• Yearling (sophomore year)
• Cow (junior year)
• Firstie (senior year)

Jeff remembers the commanding officer saying to all the new plebes, “Look to your left … Now look to your right … One of you won’t be here on graduation day.” Jeff said that when he heard that failure rate, he thought to himself, that isn’t going to be me; I’m not quitting or getting pushed out!

His freshman class started with 1,485 plebes, and by the time he graduated, only 925 of his classmates remained. One third of his freshman class didn’t see their Firstie year.

If you resign from the academy in your first two years, you have no military commitment. However, that first day of junior year, you incur a postcollege commitment in the military. West Point constantly ranks cadets based on academics and leadership potential. In your senior year, you can pick the branch you would like to serve in, and Jeff chose field artillery, where he joined a team that worked on the Pershing missile system, the primary nuclear deterrent to Russian aggression at the time.

Back to that broken wrist story. As a plebe on campus and having to do marching drills with an M14 rifle, physical drills to build strength, and just getting some motion back into that wrist, Jeff struggled each day. Jeff had to find a way to perform with precision, just like everyone else. As there were no excuses for not being able to keep up with his class.

At night, while the other cadets were asleep, Jeff would practice the rifle drills alone in his room, determined to figure out how to do them without dropping the firearm, despite the pain in his wrist. So, at 10:30 p.m., in the dark, as the other cadets were sleeping, Jeff worked the required rifle protocol to try to perform the drills properly without dropping the firearm. One night, the squad leader on patrol noticed Jeff standing in his dark room and walked in, asking, “What’s happening here, plebe?”

Jeff, following the strict plebe protocol, responded with one of the only allowed answers: “No excuses, sir!” The squad leader asked again, and Jeff repeated the same line.

Finally, the squad leader told Jeff to drop the protocol and just explain what was going on. Jeff then explained that his wrist was still weak, and he was practicing the rifle drills in the middle of the night to make sure he could keep up with his squad.