The warrior Hackworth
Colonel David Hackworth was buried at Arlington Memorial Cemetery on May 31. I didn't know Hack really well but spent enough time with him to know he was not just one helluva warrior but also a deeply committed crusader.
I felt his unmatched service to his country had ended up leaving him somewhat embittered. He was a driven man in spite of the dozens of honors bestowed for bravery in combat. He had 'em all, eight Purple Hearts, nine Silver Stars, eight Bronze Stars, two Distinguished Flying Crosses, etc.
A few years ago I talked to Hack into going for a hike with me in Glacier Park. His girlfriend went along with my daughter Heidi who was working as his writing helper and office manager at "World Headquarters" in Whitefish—joined daughter Wendy and I for that wonderful climb up Scenic Point at Two Medicine.
While the gals were fixing a lunch in a spot looking over Glacier Park and the Great Plains, Hack and I walked out on a ledge and sat down to take in some awesome scenery. He remarked about how wonderful the world was around us.
It seemed like a good time for me to say, "Hack, you could be doing this every week, taking life easy. Maybe more than any man I know, you have earned a few years of taking it easy."
"George, I have been given a unique position, a forum, from which I have an obligation to my country to try and change the way our military is run … the way it is committed."
One of the last times I had a talk with Hack was when he came back from the war in Yugoslavia.
At one point I sensed a kind of resignation to what he called the inevitability of war, and he speculated that perhaps there was an instinctive drive within young men to seek violent conflict.
Then he went on to say that regardless of whether that was a fact of life or not, he still would continue fighting for wiser use of American military force and more competent leadership from the Pentagon.
Hack certainly did that. In his last years he appointed himself the personal guardian of the front-line soldiers in Iraq, using every power at his disposal to give them a better chance at survival … just like he did his own troops in Korea and Viet Nam.
Kevin Horrigan of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch said it well: "Hack's ashes will be interred at Arlington National Cemetery the day after Memorial Day with full military honors. God knows he earned them."
A new and hurtful brand of snobbishness has developed among those who have personal computers, send e-mail, and sell things on eBay.
Guess I wouldn't have known about this except last month one of my longtime friends who was also a fraternity brother at the University of Montana, passed away in California.
His widow sent out e-mail to several of our friends who live in Flathead and elsewhere. All who got the notice of Bob's death were listed on the top of the e-mail. Not being on the Internet, I wasn't there.
Here's where we get to the snob part. I wanted to have Bob's widow's address so I could send a card. Fraternity brother George Harpole in California lived close to Bob so local fraternity brother Ivan O'Neil sent Harpole an e-mail. It said, "George would like Sally's SNAIL MAIL address, e-mail it to me and I will get it to him."
There it is in black and white. Those of us who still write letters, fold 'em carefully, put them in an envelope, and mail them are now labeled "snail mailers."
Have never been called that to my face, but am now developing paranoia. Walked in on a bunch of the "Gang" at a restaurant last Wednesday and noticed a sudden change in the conversation. I'm sure one of them had just been telling the others, "Here comes George, poor guy. You all know he's a . . . snail mailer?"