The Days Forward

West Point Class of 1969

R-Day Memory

Trouser trouble

For the eight years before entering USMA, I lived at West Point, most of the time in the Lusk housing area.  The night before I entered, I swam in Lusk Reservoir, like my older brother had done.  Totally unauthorized, of course.  I forgot that something called “The Sound and Light Show” was going to be held that evening.  So, about two minutes into my swim, there was a lot of light in the sky, and I rushed to shore before somebody like the MP’s saw me. In the morning, my best friend from Highland Falls High School drove onto post, picked me up and drove me to Central Area.  As many know, I never made it to the Swearing-In Ceremony because my trousers were way too tight, I almost passed out, and I was dragged to the hospital.  So, only five of the six West Point-based New Cadets were there.

An Expert Fitting Trousers for a New Cadet

Gym at R-Day

Vividly recall sweating through our first long, slow line of the day, right after leaving the gym … still in civvies, with suitcase in hand and a bewildered expression. After ten or so minutes of the start-stop-start-again shuffle, the tall guy in front of me, clearly bored, turned around, stuck out his hand, grinned, and said, “Mike Krzyzewski, Chicago.” You would not believe the responses I still get telling this, “Guess who I met first at West Point?” story. 

Long, Slow Line of Cadets Carrying Their Bags

The Long Drive to R-Day

My parents drove me from Minnesota – a three-or four-day journey. Along the way, we stopped one night with my sister and brother-in-law in Princeton, N.J. They dropped me off in Highland Falls the night before. I stayed in some sort of boarding house with about 6 prospective cadets.  Not being from New York, we were anxious to take advantage of the drinking age of 18 and I had my first and probably last taste of Highland Falls.  Knowing virtually nothing about West Point and after a somewhat fitful sleep, we reported early to get a “head start” on the process and arrived when the cadre was truly full of piss and vinegar.  My second mistake was arriving in brown loafers sans low cut black shoes (we looked in Southern Minnesota, but they didn’t seem to exist there.), Upon arrival at the 1st New Cadet Company, I learned that I needed them that evening and my company was not to draw shoes for two days; thus it started.  I rapidly learned the value of “no excuse, sir”.  I survived reporting to the 1st Sergeant of the 1st New Cadet Company for the 1st time as ordered after a few garbled attempts, was later afforded the opportunity to stare at a crack in the pavement for an hour as I was caught “gazing around”. The cadre grudgingly took me for a special clothing formation to get some shoes.  Since I had arrived early, they were still busy with others when I had finished getting check marks on my tag.  Taking advantage of being in a room on the third floor of New South I went to my room and took a nap, fortunately the cadre didn’t catch me.  A somewhat faltering start to our four years together.

Cadets Learning to Listen

Two Brothers Attend West Point

My dad, Frank Steele, enlisted at West Point in the 10th Cav. in 1940. On June 30, 1965, Maj. Frank Steele retired at Ft. Dix, NJ. The family drove up to WP early on 7/1 from Levittown, PA leaving behind a large billboard with two pictures indicating that two Lower Bucks County brothers were to attend West Point. We all made ourselves promises, didn’t we? I promised that the morning I would look over to 7th New Cadet Company and didn’t see a particular head sticking up above the crowd, I could leave. To my great distress and disappointment in 1965, but to my enormous pleasure today, Gary served as my particular motivation to push forward and persevere through the first of the hardest four years of my life. The bonds that we, The Best of The Line, have forged are incomparable. We were a self-selected sampling of the best that our country had and has to offer. On the evening of July 1, 1965, we raised our right hands and made a commitment. In our own way, each of us is fulfilling that pledge. While we don’t all agree on the path, we can all “recalculate” to reach our destination. God Bless All Y’all.  

Telegram from Senator Smathers

I received a telegram from Senator Smathers at 1715 hrs, 29 June 1965, offering congratulations on being accepted into USMA. I caught a flight out of Panama City, FL, at 0715 hrs, 30 June and flew to JFK. Bus to Port Authority, and then to Highland Falls, arriving around 2000 hrs.  Found a room over a bar in Highland Falls and laid awake for a good part of the night.  Walked through the gate the next morning and was directed to the gym for in-processing.  No orders. No welcome packet. No nothing, except that telegram. The Sergeant I reported to had no idea what to do, nor did the LTC he referred me to.  The officer finally decided that I should be “processed, pending determination”, so I entered the whirlwind with everyone else.  Didn’t need a haircut, but got one, anyway. The rest was a blur, for me, too. I do remember risking my life by peeking out the window of my room sometime during the day and seeing some prospective new cadet walking into Central Area carrying a large suitcase, golf clubs, and a tennis racket, quizzically gazing about.  Later that day, just before the swearing in ceremony, I sneaked another peak out the window, and saw a bald-headed guy with gray shorts, black shoes and black shorts, dragging a suitcase, golf clubs, and a tennis racket, heading back out of Central Area.  My orders caught up with me about 2 weeks later, and I received my draft notice just before the end of Beast.  

In-processing in the Gym