Report from Alex Alexander, ’65, on his recent episode of recidivism, as Cdt CPT, Commanding A-1 . . . _________________ Here is the full account of the spirit mission in the form of a journal entry. I wrote it to preserve the memory for myself. I've also included the letter I sent to the men and women of company A1, the Avengers. West Point Reunion 2015 - The Spirit Mission December 2014 -May 17, 2015 I've been prepping for this reunion for months, loosely, and a couple of weeks intensely. Late last year I was remembering my favorite West Point "moment." When I was a cadet captain, and commander of company A-1, I used to start off all the parades on the Plain. When the A-1 Commander said, "Forward: March!" the band played and everything went into motion. The moment before that, everything was quiet, with an expectant air. It occurred to me that, at the upcoming West Point 50th reunion, I might be able, with the help of some cadets, to sneak into the A-1 Commander's slot, and once again, as in the "days of yore" lead off the parade, turning aside after passing the reviewing stand to join my classmates and watch the rest of the parade from the sidelines, like I was supposed to do in the first place. So I sent a blind email to the Avengers Newsletter (Company A1 produces a quarterly newsletter for all of us old grads who used to be in A1) suggesting we do a black ops prank: sneak me into the parade, in full dress uniform, as a joke and a surprise to all and sundry. A good morale builder for the cadets, and an even better one for my classmates at our 50th reunion. Long story short, they went for it. It seems that the Corps still has a sense of mischief. So, this coming Tuesday, weather permitting (rain is predicted - damn!), I'll don cadet grey, and one last time march where cadets have marched since 1802. Monday, May 18, 2015 After the memorial service (I sang in the choir), I joined my co- conspirator for the Cadet Parade, Cpt. Sean Breen, age 32, so we could do some reconnaissance and practicing in case tomorrow's expected rain didn't happen and I could actually march in the parade. Sean turned out to be a stalwart supporter, with a backbone to match (more about that later). We reconned the Plain to see how the parade works these days, and then he took me through the barracks where I would be donning the uniform tomorrow, introduced me to some cadets and staffers, all of whom were completely on board, loving the prank, and inclined to see me in a good light for initiating it. Breen and I parted after a couple of hours, regretting that the rain was almost certainly going to wash us out, yet, hoping somehow the parade might happen. We wouldn't know until the next morning at 7:00am, when this kind of weather/parade decision gets made. Tuesday, May 19, 2015 Up at 7:00am, and called Sean Breen first thing. Miracles do happen. The parade is ON! And now I have to deliver on my promises. I'll hit the highlights. I arrived at WP just after 9:00am, got off the bus, and met up with Sean. We headed to the cadet barracks, where my uniform was waiting, along with the Cadet regimental commander (Bill Goodwin) and his cadet sergeant major, (Casey Childers) all of whom helped me into the uniform, which - yay team! - fit well. Except for the hat, which would later prove to be a problem. Quick trip to the bathroom (old bladder), then out into Central Area where the cadets were forming up for the parade. Sean, plus the company commander, Bob Hill (whose place I'd be taking), and the guidon bearer, Tyler Griffin (who would march one step behind and left of me, coaching me every step of the way), took me under their collective wings, and launched into an intensive training session, in which I had to relearn stuff I'd long forgotten, mainly what commands would be happening when, and how to handle the cadet saber. (The saber and the ill-fitting hat would meet up later.) While we were practicing, hundreds of cadet eyes were staring our way, wondering what we were up to. I felt conspicuous as hell, but enjoyed it nonetheless. As the stares continued, and the word circulated that the old fart was actually going to march in the parade, the stares turned into smiles, and I found myself posing for a lot of pictures. Sean called me over to company A1, my old company, and the one I'd be commanding for the parade, so he could introduce me, and so I could say a few words. He glorified me a bit, and then I spoke to the company. I told them that I fondly remembered when I was the commander of A1 fifty years ago, to be patient with the old fart up in front in today's parade, and finally what a privilege it was for me to be marching with the likes of them. They seemed to like my remarks. And then it was time to march off. It could have been a disaster - I was that out to lunch - but we actually pulled it off pretty well. The guidon bearer did a masterful job of coaching me through all the motions (he was a great kid, a former Prep Schooler, with excellent presence of mind, which was important because I was pretty much in a haze). I screwed up almost every small motion, but got the big ones right, which was okay because, at our distance away from the audience nobody could see the small things. Like my damned hat. It didn't quite fit right, and for the 45 minutes or so of the parade, it was slowly, slowly slipping down my forehead, toward my nose. I didn't dare adjust it - the white gloves would draw every eye in the place if I reached upward. So I said to myself, "deal with it" and carried on, slowly tilting my head backward to keep the hat level. I got into a good marching rhythm (I always could keep in step), so as we passed in review, I looked like I belonged there - except, as a number of people later told me, for the frizzy old-guy hair sticking out from under my hat and over my collar. Still, when we finished the pass in review, the cadets called out to me, "Good job, sir!" All in all I felt pretty good about it. Finally, after the "Eyes, Front" I reached the leading edge of my classmates, who were occupying their part of the day's Long Gray Line. I did a sloppy right turn, started the saber salute I had planned, caught the tip of the saber on my hat, and flipped the damn thing in the air. Luckily I caught the hat on the fly and didn't drop it. I inserted this picture because I love his smile and the smiles of all the cadets behind him. At that point my classmates realized what had happened, and that one of their own had done something that had never been done before (as far as I know) since West Point was established in 1802.an old grad had marched in a cadet parade, and not only that, but had "commanded" a company. After that it was handshakes, pictures, smiles, laughs, and "how the hell did you pull that off?" For the rest of the day and into the next, I was a minor celebrity. I'd have to call it the highlight of the reunion for me, actually one of the highlights of my life. But wait. There's more. Immediately after the parade, Sean Breen and Stephen Ruth, the Regimental Tactical Officer (the LTC in charge of the Army staff overseeing the cadet regimental organization) came up to me: both the Superintendent and the Commandant of Cadets were pissed and the cadet and military staff, including Sean Breen, were in hot water for my prank. We had known that there might be some flack, and Sean was willing to take the heat, and now, here it was. So I told Ric Shinseki (former Chief of Staff of the Army, 4 stars), and Dan Christman (former Supe, 3 stars, I used to date his sister), both of whom are classmates whom I know quite well, about the potential dustup, and asked them if they would use their influence to ease whatever repercussions might be in the works. Next Sean and LTC Ruth plus the cadets involved plus me (still in cadet uniform) marched over to the Brigade Tactical Officer's office presumably to be royally chewed out. It looked ominous. I was safe from any harm arising from the stunt that I had instigated, and, although I had no power or influence in the affair, I wanted to protect Breen and the cadets as best as I could because they were all standup guys, and had done so much for me. Well, the bird-colonel loved it. He launched into a five minute speech, praising us for the stunt, and congratulating Breen for having the cohones to pull it off, adding that it's this kind of thing that creates legends in the Corps of Cadets, and that any aftermath would dim with time and do no career harm, and in fact would informally enhance the reputations of all involved. He pledged his full support, saying, "I stand with you in this." We wrapped up the meeting by taking a picture of me standing before him, giving him a snappy salute. Later in the day, Sean texted me that it had all blown over, with no negative impact on him or the cadets. Yay, team! We hustled back to the barracks so I could change back into my own clothes. I thanked Sean for all he had done, and pledged to stay in touch. Then I scooted over to the cadet mess hall, where lunch was served, and more formalities (presentation of Distinguished Graduate awards). The final result as reported to me by Cpt. Breen is this: The official punishment from the event: We had to submit a few reflective essays to the Superintendent and the Commandant. We finalized and submitted those yesterday and have been absolved accordingly. General Shinseki assisted greatly in keeping us off the area, but I can tell you that had we been put on the area, most of the Corps would have voluntarily been out there with us and it would have been worth it-100%. Since that day, I have been getting all kinds of feedback, all of it positive, from cadets, grads of all classes, and of course my classmates. The only regret I have is that I should have paraded down the full line of the class of '65, instead of veering off at the beginning. That way the whole class could have borne witness to the "spirit mission." Maybe next time. Alex Alexander Alex92240@yahoo.com 530-432-2882  Next we have the letter that Alex wrote to his old Company A-1 (The Avengers): Dear Avengers, I want to thank you all, and add some thoughts from my old grad's perspective. You can't know (until you reach my advanced years) how grateful I am for the privilege of marching with you in one of life's really cool spectacles, a West Point parade. I hope it wasn't evident to you, but throughout the parade, I felt like a bumbling old fool, making mistake after mistake. Yet we pulled it off. The only reason I didn't totally screw up and embarrass all of you is that Bob Hill called the commands and Tyler Griffin coached me every step of the way, and your TAC, Cpt. Breen put everything in place so that the venture could succeed (I suspect that he even had something to do with clearing up the weather). Fortunately, the many mistakes I made were small scale and invisible to the spectators, so to them I looked like I belonged, and thanks to all of you, I felt like I belonged. Most importantly, mission accomplished. I want you to know that this "prank" had a deeper meaning to me and my classmates than you might think. At our stage in life, having lived all the joys and tragedies that come to people who engage in the risks of war and service to the nation, we have (and you will have) a deeper appreciation of ourselves and our comrades than does the average citizen. Because of our caper, my classmates felt an even closer connection to the spirit of the Corps, a spirit that shaped each of us profoundly 50 years ago, and continues to shape us even now. Bumbling or not, I, and therefore in a very real way, they, were again a connected part of, not just the Long Gray Line, but the very spirit that is the essence of that legacy. We all know that spirit starts with Duty, Honor, Country, but it also contains kinship and the love of brothers (and now sisters). And threaded through it all - all the dedication, sacrifice, risk, and hardship - is a twinkle of the eye. I have never known a West Pointer - even the deadly serious ones - who didn't have room for joy in hardship. It's more than cracking jokes and pulling stunts like our Old-Grad-Marches-in-Parade caper. There's a deep thread of humility that fuels it. We can laugh at ourselves; we can see the light side to everything (except the death of comrades, and even then we derive joy from having known them); we can see the good in any situation, and when there's no good there, we make it appear. I don't know how, but this spirit gets built into us during our West Point years, and pranks are a small part of it. Even "Beat Navy" is much more than the desire to win a contest. It's part of the connective tissue that binds us all in service of a common goal. We're in it together and we depend on each other, whether the goal is to win a war, keep the nation safe, or triumph in a sporting contest. This parade prank made me an instant celebrity among my Classmates, at least for a little while, and it struck the deeper chords I spoke of, but it's all due to you. So, once again, I thank you. Alex Alexander, Class of '65 more pictures of this 50th reunion prank - http://usma1970.smugmug.com/.../50th-Reu.../Class-of-65-40th-Pix 

Report from Alex Alexander, ’65, on his recent episode of recidivism, as Cdt CPT, Commanding A-1 . . .

Forwarded from Classmate Chip Leonard - Report from Alex Alexander, ’65, on his recent episode of recidivism, as Cdt CPT, Commanding A-1 . . . _________________ Here is the full account of the spirit mission in the form of a journal entry. I wrote it to preserve the memory for myself. I've also included the letter I sent to the men and women of company A1, the Avengers. West Point Reunion 2015 - The Spirit Mission December 2014 -May 17, 2015 I've been prepping for this reunion for months, loosely, and a couple of weeks intensely. Late last year I was remembering my favorite West Point "moment." When I was a cadet captain, and commander of company A-1, I used to start off all the parades on the Plain. When the A-1 Commander said, "Forward: March!" the band played and everything went into motion. The moment before that, everything was quiet, with an expectant air. It occurred to me that, at the upcoming West Point 50th reunion, I might be able, with the help of some cadets, to sneak into the A-1 Commander's slot, and once again, as in the "days of yore" lead off the parade, turning aside after passing the reviewing stand to join my classmates and watch the rest of the parade from the sidelines, like I was supposed to do in the first place. So I sent a blind email to the Avengers Newsletter (Company A1 produces a quarterly newsletter for all of us old grads who used to be in A1) suggesting we do a black ops prank.sneak me into the parade, in full dress uniform, as a joke and a surprise to all and sundry. A good morale builder for the cadets, and an even better one for my classmates at our 50th reunion. Long story short, they went for it. It seems that the Corps still has a sense of mischief. So, this coming Tuesday, weather permitting (rain is predicted.damn!), I'll don cadet grey, and one last time march where cadets have marched since 1802. Monday, May 18, 2015 After the memorial service (I sang in the choir), I joined my co-conspirator for the Cadet Parade, Cpt. Sean Breen, age 32, so we could do some reconnaissance and practicing in case tomorrow's expected rain didn't happen and I could actually march in the parade. Sean turned out to be a stalwart supporter, with a backbone to match (more about that later). We reconned the Plain to see how the parade works these days, and then he took me through the barracks where I would be donning the uniform tomorrow, introduced me to some cadets and staffers, all of whom were completely on board, loving the prank, and inclined to see me in a good light for initiating it. Breen and I parted after a couple of hours, regretting that the rain was almost certainly going to wash us out, yet, hoping somehow the parade might happen. We wouldn't know until the next morning at 7:00am, when this kind of weather/parade decision gets made. Tuesday, May 19, 2015 Up at 7:00am, and called Sean Breen first thing. Miracles do happen. The parade is ON! And now I have to deliver on my promises. I'll hit the highlights. I arrived at WP just after 9:00am, got off the bus, and met up with Sean. We headed to the cadet barracks, where my uniform was waiting, along with the Cadet regimental commander (Bill Goodwin) and his cadet sergeant major, (Casey Childers) all of whom helped me into the uniform, which - yay team! - fit well. Except for the hat, which would later prove to be a problem. Quick trip to the bathroom (old bladder), then out into Central Area where the cadets were forming up for the parade. Sean, plus the company commander, Bob Hill (whose place I'd be taking), and the guidon bearer, Tyler Griffin (who would march one step behind and left of me, coaching me every step of the way), took me under their collective wings, and launched into an intensive training session, in which I had to relearn stuff I'd long forgotten, mainly what commands would be happening when, and how to handle the cadet saber. (The saber and the ill-fitting hat would meet up later.) While we were practicing, hundreds of cadet eyes were staring our way, wondering what we were up to. I felt conspicuous as hell, but enjoyed it nonetheless. As the stares continued, and the word circulated that the old fart was actually going to march in the parade, the stares turned into smiles, and I found myself posing for a lot of pictures. Sean called me over to company A1, my old company, and the one I'd be commanding for the parade, so he could introduce me, and so I could say a few words. He glorified me a bit, and then I spoke to the company. I told them that I fondly remembered when I was the commander of A1 fifty years ago, to be patient with the old fart up in front in today's parade, and finally what a privilege it was for me to be marching with the likes of them. They seemed to like my remarks. And then it was time to march off. It could have been a disaster - I was that out to lunch - but we actually pulled it off pretty well. The guidon bearer did a masterful job of coaching me through all the motions (he was a great kid, a former Prep Schooler, with excellent presence of mind, which was important because I was pretty much in a haze). I screwed up almost every small motion, but got the big ones right, which was okay because, at our distance away from the audience nobody could see the small things. Like my damned hat. It didn't quite fit right, and for the 45 minutes or so of the parade, it was slowly, slowly slipping down my forehead, toward my nose. I didn't dare adjust it - the white gloves would draw every eye in the place if I reached upward. So I said to myself, "deal with it" and carried on, slowly tilting my head backward to keep the hat level. I got into a good marching rhythm (I always could keep in step), so as we passed in review, I looked like I belonged there.except, as a number of people later told me, for the frizzy old-guy hair sticking out from under my hat and over my collar. Still, when we finished the pass in review, the cadets called out to me, "Good job, sir!" All in all I felt pretty good about it. Finally, after the "Eyes, Front" I reached the leading edge of my classmates, who were occupying their part of the day's Long Gray Line. I did a sloppy right turn, started the saber salute I had planned, caught the tip of the saber on my hat, and flipped the damn thing in the air. Luckily I caught the hat on the fly and didn't drop it. I inserted this picture because I love his smile and the smiles of all the cadets behind him. At that point my classmates realized what had happened, and that one of their own had done something that had never been done before (as far as I know) since West Point was established in 1802.an old grad had marched in a cadet parade, and not only that, but had "commanded" a company. After that it was handshakes, pictures, smiles, laughs, and "how the hell did you pull that off?" For the rest of the day and into the next, I was a minor celebrity. I'd have to call it the highlight of the reunion for me, actually one of the highlights of my life. But wait. There's more. Immediately after the parade, Sean Breen and Stephen Ruth, the Regimental Tactical Officer (the LTC in charge of the Army staff overseeing the cadet regimental organization) came up to me.both the Superintendent and the Commandant of Cadets were pissed and the cadet and military staff, including Sean Breen, were in hot water for my prank. We had known that there might be some flack, and Sean was willing to take the heat, and now, here it was. So I told Ric Shinseki (former Chief of Staff of the Army, 4 stars), and Dan Christman (former Supe, 3 stars, I used to date his sister), both of whom are classmates whom I know quite well, about the potential dustup, and asked them if they would use their influence to ease whatever repercussions might be in the works. Next Sean and LTC Ruth plus the cadets involved plus me (still in cadet uniform) marched over to the Brigade Tactical Officer's office presumably to be royally chewed out. It looked ominous. I was safe from any harm arising from the stunt that I had instigated, and, although I had no power or influence in the affair, I wanted to protect Breen and the cadets as best as I could because they were all standup guys, and had done so much for me. Well, the bird-colonel loved it. He launched into a five minute speech, praising us for the stunt, and congratulating Breen for having the cohones to pull it off, adding that it's this kind of thing that creates legends in the Corps of Cadets, and that any aftermath would dim with time and do no career harm, and in fact would informally enhance the reputations of all involved. He pledged his full support, saying, "I stand with you in this." We wrapped up the meeting by taking a picture of me standing before him, giving him a snappy salute. Later in the day, Sean texted me that it had all blown over, with no negative impact on him or the cadets. Yay, team! We hustled back to the barracks so I could change back into my own clothes. I thanked Sean for all he had done, and pledged to stay in touch. Then I scooted over to the cadet mess hall, where lunch was served, and more formalities (presentation of Distinguished Graduate awards). The final result as reported to me by Cpt. Breen is this: The official punishment from the event: We had to submit a few reflective essays to the Superintendent and the Commandant. We finalized and submitted those yesterday and have been absolved accordingly. General Shinseki assisted greatly in keeping us off the area, but I can tell you that had we been put on the area, most of the Corps would have voluntarily been out there with us and it would have been worth it-100%. Since that day, I have been getting all kinds of feedback, all of it positive, from cadets, grads of all classes, and of course my classmates. The only regret I have is that I should have paraded down the full line of the class of '65, instead of veering off at the beginning. That way the whole class could have borne witness to the "spirit mission." Maybe next time. Alex Alexander Alex92240@yahoo.com 530-432-2882 Next we have the letter that Alex wrote to his old Company A-1 (The Avengers): Dear Avengers, I want to thank you all, and add some thoughts from my old grad's perspective. You can't know (until you reach my advanced years) how grateful I am for the privilege of marching with you in one of life's really cool spectacles, a West Point parade. I hope it wasn't evident to you, but throughout the parade, I felt like a bumbling old fool, making mistake after mistake. Yet we pulled it off. The only reason I didn't totally screw up and embarrass all of you is that Bob Hill called the commands and Tyler Griffin coached me every step of the way, and your TAC, Cpt. Breen put everything in place so that the venture could succeed (I suspect that he even had something to do with clearing up the weather). Fortunately, the many mistakes I made were small scale and invisible to the spectators, so to them I looked like I belonged, and thanks to all of you, I felt like I belonged. Most importantly, mission accomplished. I want you to know that this "prank" had a deeper meaning to me and my classmates than you might think. At our stage in life, having lived all the joys and tragedies that come to people who engage in the risks of war and service to the nation, we have (and you will have) a deeper appreciation of ourselves and our comrades than does the average citizen. Because of our caper my classmates felt an even closer connection to the spirit of the Corps, a spirit that shaped each of us profoundly 50 years ago, and continues to shape us even now. Bumbling or not, I, and therefore in a very real way, they, were again a connected part of, not just the Long Gray Line, but the very spirit that is the essence of that legacy. We all know that spirit starts with Duty, Honor, Country, but it also contains kinship and the love of brothers (and now sisters). And threaded through it all - all the dedication, sacrifice, risk, and hardship - is a twinkle of the eye. I have never known a West Pointer - even the deadly serious ones - who didn't have room for joy in hardship. It's more than cracking jokes and pulling stunts like our Old-Grad-Marches-in-Parade caper. There's a deep thread of humility that fuels it. We can laugh at ourselves; we can see the light side to everything (except the death of comrades, and even then we derive joy from having known them); we can see the good in any situation, and when there's no good there, we make it appear. I don't know how, but this spirit gets built into us during our West Point years, and pranks are a small part of it. Even "Beat Navy" is much more than the desire to win a contest. It's part of the connective tissue that binds us all in service of a common goal. We're in it together and we depend on each other, whether the goal is to win a war, keep the nation safe, or triumph in a sporting contest. This parade prank made me an instant celebrity among my Classmates, at least for a little while, and it struck the deeper chords I spoke of, but it's all due to you. So, once again, I thank you. Alex Alexander, Class of '65

more pictures of this 50th reunion prank - http://usma1970.smugmug.com/…/50th-Reu…/Class-of-65-40th-Pix