Farewell to an American Icon By Barry McCaffrey ’60, GEN USA (ret.) It is difficult to imagine a figure of American public life more emblematic of non sibi service than George H.W. Bush ’42. His legacy is the American equivalent of a noble public life. I was privileged to serve with President Bush during the years when he was our 41st president and commander in chief of the U.S. Armed Forces. His sense of integrity and fairness, his rich record of public service as a congressman, U.S. ambassador to China and the United Nations, CIA director, twoterm vice president, and World War II Navy attack pilot gave him huge credibility and trust among those in the Armed Forces. I supported President Bush while assigned as the three-star military assistant to General Colin Powell, then chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. During this period of enormous national security consequence, I accompanied President Bush to arms control conferences in Vienna, Helsinki, and Moscow as a military assistant. I also joined the JCS chairman during White House meetings of the National Security Council. President Bush successfully navigated the foreign policy issues of the fall of the Berlin Wall, the Grenada operation, the Somali Civil War, the START II Treaty, the Invasion of Panama to restore the rule of law and end the Noriega dictatorship, and the monumental peace dialog with Gorbachev and then Yeltsin. President Bush and General Powell made such a mature and cautious team—respectful and trusted by foreign leaders, adverse to the risks of war, and protective of the lives and dignity of our service men and women. My strongest memories of our president were during the Gulf War—Desert Storm and the campaign to free Kuwait from the brutal occupation of Saddam Hussein. President Bush and Secretary of State James Baker put together a coalition of 40 nations under the auspices of the United Nations to amass overwhelming allied military power. Following a massive 30-day air campaign, we fell on the Iraqis and then crushed their resistance with a four-day ground campaign. I served as commander of the 24th Infantry Division, a force of 26,000 soldiers and
1,600 armored vehicles. On 24 February 1991 we conducted a 400-kilometer “left hook” attack around the Iraqi Army in a four-day blitzkrieg campaign. We were so appreciative when President Bush visited our U.S. families at Ft. Stewart, Georgia, where my wife, Jill, had the honor of introducing him to a crowd of thousands. In fact, I’m looking at his note to her now as I write. And prior to our overseas attack, the president and first lady also visited our division in Saudi Arabia with senior congressional leaders during Thanksgiving weekend. In his opening remarks to the thousands of 24th Infantry Division soldiers I had assembled, he recalled that during November 1944, he was flying ground support combat missions for the 24th Infantry Division, then fighting in the Philippines. Every one of us welled up with tears. This was a man who knew what we faced; he had been there with us 47 years earlier. President Bush’s greatest military credibility was earned by his combat service in WWII as the youngest naval aviator during the massive and bloody Pacific campaigns against the Japanese Empire. He enlisted on his 18th birthday following the 7 December 1941 attack on Pearl Harbor. It was a miracle he survived his 58 combat missions, as many did not. More than 60,000 naval personnel perished at sea. Among many other accomplishments during this time, he successfully pressed home an attack even though his aircraft was hit and burning; he was rescued by a U.S. submarine. For this, Bush was decorated with the Distinguished Flying Cross. He would eventually return to combat. When President Bush died at age 94 on 30 November 2018, my final duty was to serve as a member of a ceremonial delegation of retired senior military commanders from the Gulf War, led by General Colin Powell. We went to pay our respects as our former commander lay in state at the Capitol Rotunda in Washington, D.C. It is hard to imagine America will ever again see such a commander in chief of the Armed Forces as respected as George H.W. Bush.
For more on George H.W. Bush’s Andover years, see the winter 2019 issue of Andover magazine at www.andover.edu/alumni/andover-magazine.
The Blue Guidon The Newsletter of Andover and the Military
Spring 2019
George H.W. Bush ’42: From World War II Pilot to Commander in Chief We devote this issue of The Blue Guidon to Andover’s most illustrious alumnus, George Herbert Walker Bush, Class of 1942. He was, in the words of biographer Jon Meacham, “America’s last great soldier statesman.” No one better exemplified the devotion to service that is at the heart of Andover’s non sibi credo. No alumnus more deeply embodied the ethos and fundamental purpose of the Andover and the Military Committee than Navy pilot and 41st President George H.W. Bush. —Robert M. Tuller Jr. ’82, P’21, ’23, Editor
Navy pilot George Bush in TBM Avenger, 1944
In 2011, Andover magazine marked the 70th anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor with a series of reminiscences authored by alumni. The first of these was written by George Bush. Andover, he said, shaped his commitment to service and his steely decision to join the Navy on the day he graduated—his 18th birthday.
A Fateful Decision I distinctly remember December 7, 1941. I recall walking across the campus at Andover with several friends when we heard the news…Feelings of shock, of course, soon gave way to a national sense of outrage…Six months after Pearl Harbor, I received my diploma. Secretary of War (and Andover board president) Henry Stimson, himself an Andover grad, delivered the commencement address. He told members of my class that the coming war would be a long one, and though America needed fighting men,
we would better serve our country by getting more education before getting in uniform. By then, I had already decided that college would have to wait. I was determined to become a naval aviator—and the sooner I could enlist, the better. Still, after the graduation ceremony, my father approached me in the crowded hallway outside the auditorium...“George,” he said, “did the Secretary say anything to change your mind?” “No, sir,” I replied. “I am going in.” Dad nodded and shook my hand. On my 18th birthday, I went to Boston and was sworn into the Navy as a Seaman Second Class. Not long thereafter, Dad took me to Penn Station to put me on a railway coach headed south to North Carolina and pre-flight training. As we parted ways that day, it was the only time I ever saw my father shed a tear. Driving this decision to forego college and join the war effort immediately, I am sure, was my Dad’s own service in World War I—but there was more to it. I was also heeding the Andover motto, non sibi.