When the Average Joe hears the words, “West Point”, one of several images may come to mind; the Revolutionary War fortification protectively overlooking the Hudson River, the Gothic architecture of the Cadet Chapel, the expansive Plain hosting a full-dress parade of cadets, or Michie Stadium perched next to Lusk reservoir on colorful fall football weekends. These images might also explain, “what West Point means to me”, were one to ask the Average Joe. But West Point graduates are not the Average Joe when that phrase is posed to them.
West Point means many things to me, generally broken down into two time frames: at school and post-graduation. From the former, I remember general camaraderie, frenetic and grueling schedules, challenging academics, first-rate military training, muted pageantry, quality personnel and a sense of history. One of the major national issues of the time for our country and most certainly for us and our immediate futures, was the Vietnam War. While we were not exposed, for the most part, to daily media and the political unrest generated by the war, we were able to appreciate a different side of the war than the GAP (Great American Public) received. Also, from the former I remember specifically meeting and dating my now wife JoAnne, who participated with me during Firstie (senior) year including the Ring Hop, getting my Corvette, exploring Flirtation Walk, KDET record hops and graduation.
Throughout the years since graduation I experienced a series of different assignments, different homes, different locations and interactions with different people. Surprisingly, during most of those times, I didn’t serve directly with classmates, with one exception at Fort Belvoir, VA. Being exposed to colleagues whose source of commission and formal civilian education were different from mine, actually made me appreciate the West Point experience more. Not everyone with whom I worked had the same approach to, nor method of mission accomplishment, which, in some cases, made the situation more challenging.
The skills I learned at West Point and polished over the years have served me well.
What West Point Means To Me – Wayne Murphy
West Point was extremely generous to me. In return for my best efforts, it shaped the path of my life.
It was the meritocracy where so many gifted men were challenged to perform. My awe at the abilities and integrity of our classmates began from day one, as did the realization that we were all the beneficiaries of a special gift – to become a part of the Long Gray Line and a band of brothers like no other. The title “classmate” became a term of deep respect and admiration.
That bond, consecrated by the blood of classmates on the battlefield, continues today as does the call to duty to our great country. But, as anyone who has faced combat knows, we fight not merely for flag and country – but for each other.
In the end West Point is not a place – it is an ideal shared by men – and a life-long journey to reach that end.
What West Point Means To Me – Geoff Prosch
On 4 June 1969, I witnessed what I then thought was the greatest sight in my life – West Point in the rearview mirror of my car. Over time, however, I have learned that it was not West Point that I was speeding away from on graduation day, rather my Tactical Officer, Central Area, and Final Exams. West Point had prepared me well to be a successful Army Infantry Officer. To the amazement and surprise of the Tactical Department, I returned to West Point 5 years after graduation to serve as Aide de Camp to the Superintendent and as a Military Science Instructor. My new bride Kappy (and current wife of 46 years) conducted the tours of the Sylvanus Thayer Quarters Museum in the Superintendent’s Home — Quarters #100.
I discovered that I enjoyed serving in the Army – reinforced by heavy leadership responsibilities and close relationships with Soldiers. Over the years, West Point has drawn me home. Each visit still invigorates my spirit and soul. In my last active duty assignment, I had the honor to serve as President of the West Point Society of Ft Bragg/Sandhills, N.C. When I finally reboot from the civilian workforce to the full-time volunteer ranks, West Point will remain the center of gravity of my efforts and passion.
What West Point Means To Me – Eric Robyn
“West Point is wasted on cadets!”
As a Tac, this half-joking assertion by a visiting professor of history at USMA stuck in my mind. Cadets are so busy just surviving, they neither fully understand nor appreciate the long-term benefits of the often-painful process. Now, after 50+ years, I appreciate even more what West Point achieved. It’s not too much to say that my experiences at West Point shaped my character, purpose, vision, and goals in life more than any other place.
Clearly, it was there I was introduced to the Profession of Arms and the Brotherhood of Warriors into what became my life calling. West Point taught me how to think and act honorably; commit humbly to a cause greater than myself; live a rigorous, disciplined life in mind, body, and soul; experience daily situations to succeed or fail as a follower and leader; retain a good sense of humor, especially in the midst of high stress; and rely on the close support, strong encouragement, and teamwork of company and classmates who became – and remain – closest friends. All these hard-knock experiences and more come to mind.
One aspect, however, that stands out was setting priorities. As a Plebe, I learned quickly that much more was expected of me than I could deliver. Planning ahead, prioritizing tasks, and taking the right action at the right time was the only way to survive! Lesson learned: no plan survives first contact with the enemy but failing to plan is planning to fail. I grew accustomed to a life of action, not contemplation, first on a personal level, then as a leader. Under the daily stress of cadet life, a solid foundation was laid in setting priorities, making plans, and taking action to accomplish the mission: in classrooms, barracks, and in the field.
More important and enduring than any of those skills, however, were the relationships forged at West Point. The bonds of brotherhood sealed by trial during those four challenging USMA years laid the foundation for future bonds of marriage, family, faith, and service to others all my life. The ancient Celts had a phrase for those places where the physical and spiritual worlds seem to meet: “thin places.” For me and my family, West Point is a “thin place.”
What West Point Means To Me – Sally Robyn
My connection to West Point began the summer of 1965. My high school boyfriend left, as summer began, to enter USMA Class of ‘69. I looked forward to his letters that trickled in bearing a West Point postmark and designation, New Cadet Eric Robyn. He wrote of hazing and a regimen known as “Beast Barracks” but for me his pictures belied words of misery – I was enthralled by the gray granite buildings and his uniform of gray. I had heard of West Point, of course, but it existed merely as a picture postcard of cadets on parade, a legendary football tradition and the high ideals of Duty, Honor, Country. No doubt this mystique was aided by Hollywood and a popular TV series made in 1959-60. Seeing it firsthand was not even on my radar until Eric and his parents invited me to Plebe Parent Weekend, pretty heady stuff for a high school senior. There began my lifelong love affair with the place and my special cadet. To excuse missing several days of classes, I argued that Plebe Parent Weekend would be my only time EVER to visit the Academy. My parents agreed it was an opportunity not to be missed. However, yearly trips to New York soon became a pattern. Post June Week 1969, my newly minted lieutenant traded cadet gray for fatigues and a wife. When we returned in 1976 for an assignment in the Tactical Department, I saw through his eyes those same mythical cadets in gray as malleable future officers in need of daily discipline and guidance. Their pranks, ever new to them, were rarely new to the “Tac” who once stood in their shoes. When our son Jed was born in the Old Cadet Hospital my room overlooked Eric’s Plebe barracks, a coming full circle. In 1988 cadet gray became the familiar dress of our son Paul, Class of 1992, a ‘69 Class son.
When Paul and family later returned to a teaching assignment in the Social Science Department my vantage point again changed. I was now mother of an instructor. I have been blessed by West Point through key experiences of life – courtship, marriage, parenting and a host of friends. Once asked if I distilled Eric’s 26-year career to only one assignment which would I choose. The answer was and will always be West Point.