Statement on passing of General Westmoreland
From Clark's website:
Spizzerinctum. The signs were all over West Point when the Class of '66 arrived for its plebe year in 1962. To inspire. It's an attitude, they told us: pride, energy, can-do. It's from the Supe, they said in hushed tones.
For the Superintendent was Major General William C. Westmoreland - and he inspired respect. He was arrow-straight, sharp-eyed, full of integrity, a proven warrior who had led men in combat in World War II. In Korea he had commanded the famed 187th Regimental Combat Team.
Two years later, now with the four stars of a full General, he was our nations top commander in Vietnam. His leadership helped hold South Vietnam together in 1965 when a Communist offensive threatened to cut it in half. He led the big build-up, from a few thousand American advisors to over five hundred thousand American servicemen and women on the ground.
Along the way, he commanded over some of the toughest fights: the Ia Drang Valley in 1965, and the big operations that cleared the enemy away from Saigon in 1966 and 1967.
He was the storybook soldier, South Carolina Eagle Scout, a born leader who looked the part. His rise had seemed inevitable. And victory seemed his destiny.
Then, in February, 1968, there was Tet, a massive series of coordinated attacks across South Vietnam as covert guerilla and main force units surged against US and South Vietnamese positions, even penetrating briefly into the US embassy compound in Saigon.
Under Westmoreland, we rallied. Saigon was quickly secured. The Vietcong and their North Vietnamese supporters were smashed. The city of Hue was recaptured, and the Marine base at Khe Sahn held. For the US it was a lopsided military victory.
But the damage was done politically. An intervention that had looked at best like a long, hard, expensive slog suddenly looked hopeless to many Americans.
The shock waves were enormous and lasting. A sitting President declined to stand for reelection. America suffered a long, hot summer. And in consequences that would linger to this day, a political party was shaken, restructured, and redirected. The nation was stunned into reassessing its commitments abroad and committed to ending conscription into the Armed Forces.
Westmoreland understood his responsibilities. He stood on the fault line between the operational and the strategic. It wasn't his war, but it was his to fight. And it wasn't his strategy, either. That came mostly from Washington. But he was the commander on the ground. He had planned the tactics, and taken credit for the early successes. After Tet, he seemed to take a lot of the blame.
A few months later he departed Vietnam to become the Army's Chief of Staff, where he ably led the transition to the All-Volunteer Force. After his retirement from the Army four years later, he ran for Governor of his native state. And in retirement he was always there, steadfast, loyal, a true patriot, a great American soldier.
On a bright October morning in 1986 hundreds from my class gathered for our 20th reunion on the parade field. Some of us were still in uniform, many were already civilians. And we stood in mass, alongside hundreds of other graduates from the classes of 1956, 1946, 1936 and even earlier. Across the plain, the cadets were lined up in full dress, guidons flapping, sabres and bayonets glistening. Then among the old graduates came a welling of applause, scattered at first, then strong and sustained. We looked around, and joined in, for it was General Westmoreland, long retired, striding alone behind the
assembled graduates to join his classmates on their fiftieth reunion.
He still had it, the charisma, the pride...the spizzerinctum! And in our minds, he always will.
Westy, you did your duty. And we'll miss you.
General Wesley Clark (ret.)
