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“Men mean more than guns
in the rating of a ship”—John Paul Jones
Admiral William Paden Mack
was buried recently at the Naval Academy and while I listened to his
eulogy and the highlights of his distinguished career, I couldn’t
help but to think that he lived and loved and fought like one of
John Paul Jones’ men. He had requested a simple service with little
ceremony and no formal funeral guard because he was concerned that
Sailors and Marines would have to “stand around waiting in the cold”
at his graveside. Admiral Mack was always more concerned about the
welfare of his men than his own personal recognition and perhaps
that’s his greatest legacy. While nothing I can say could be more
revealing of his character then his own last act of selfless
concern, I want to take the risk of disregarding his last wishes,
and honor him one more time before he quietly goes out to sea.
Admiral Mack was the Superintendent
when my classmates, and I reported to the Naval Academy for plebe
summer. The “Supe” was a fighting admiral who had spent most of his
thirty-seven-year career at sea and had been combat decorated in
three wars. A “destroyerman” who had had the distinction of
commanding the 125 ship Seventh Fleet during the mining of Haiphong
Harbor -- the largest fleet since World War II -- Admiral Mack had a
well-earned reputation for being cool under fire. He was equally
admired as an accomplished speaker, dedicated administrator and
talented author who had written numerous naval books including, the
Naval Officer’s Guide, and Command at Sea (later
in his retirement he would win the Alfred Thayer Mahan
prize for literary excellence for his many novels about life at
sea). Admiral Mack was serious about discipline and academics, but
he believed that Midshipman were at the Naval Academy to become
leaders, not just by the book rule enforcers. He challenged us to
think creatively and to improve every day while preparing for combat
leadership – we listened, trusting him implicitly. The Supe was
completely unpretentious and we loved hearing his insightful – and
humorous – WWII sea stories (“Supe’s on” we would affectionately
say). Admiral Mack was also probably the most competitive
Superintendent ever. He knew how difficult it was to compete against
the best in Division I athletics and he helped institutionalize
several changes to strengthen our competitiveness—all without
compromising our academics. A Navy sports enthusiast, who had played
both Navy Football (injury shortened) and lettered in Navy Baseball
with a career .500 batting average (three for six he used to
wisecrack), Admiral Mack knew how to have fun -- often leading us
“over the wall” and into town after our pep rallies. I’m not ashamed
to say that many of us idolized him.
I remember Admiral Mack’s welcoming
speech to our plebe football team. “Navy Football,” he proclaimed,
“is the spirit of the Academy. Winning is important here because the
American people - God bless them - did not send their hard-earned
tax dollars here for you to learn to lose. They don’t want you to
win; they expect you to win! Your mission is too important
to lose and when we send you in ‘harms way’ we expect you to return
victorious”. Adm Mack didn’t differentiate too much between Navy
football and combat leadership and he made it clear that he expected
us to win every game -- including against Michigan, Penn State and
Notre Dame.
Admiral Mack’s words stayed with me
and 25 years later when my twin nieces (Keely and Lauren) were about
to be commissioned as Ensigns in the fleet, I wanted them to meet a
real naval hero. Admiral Mack had always been known for his
graciousness but I had not seen him in 25 years, had never been to
his home before and wasn’t sure what to expect. He had been one of
our Navy’s most decorated officers; and was proud, he once told me,
that his destroyer gun crew had fired upon out of range Japanese
fighters during the Battle of the Coral Sea just to “antagonize”
them. When we arrived I admitted to the twins -- just before
knocking on the door --that I was more than slightly intimidated by
a man who in his retirement had written more books than I had read.
When much to our delight Admiral Mack greeted us at the door wearing
his favorite Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts, and sporting a cane
for his two new titanium knees, we all burst out in spontaneous
laughter. He immediately launched into his favorite subject—Navy
Football— and tapping his new knees with his cane, said with a huge
grin, “I still have a year’s eligibility left you know”. He regaled
us with sea stories during lunch and afterwards he and his beloved
wife escorted us down to his basement to show us a few mementos. He
most particularly wanted us to see the memorable photograph of the
USS Missouri with Nimitz and Halsey and MacArthur on the deck
anchored in Tokyo Bay on the day of the Japanese surrender. While we
examined this famous photograph of the “Mighty Mo”, Admiral Mack
drew our attention to a small, battle-worn destroyer anchored in the
background (nearby his Silver Star was hanging but when I asked
about it he jokingly dismissed it as just “something I picked up in
the Philippines” and redirected our attention back to the photo).
“That’s my ship, -- the USS Woodworth”, Admiral Mack said
with pride,” I was the only destroyer skipper inside Tokyo Bay. All
the others were out protecting against a potential rouge Kamikaze
attack---but I had a delivery to make”. That’s when he told us his
“gracefully embellished” story of fellow destroyerman, Admiral
William Halsey –and his saddle.
After leading the Hornet Task
Force that launched the celebrated “Doolittle Raid” on Tokyo,
Admiral Halsey had become a national hero. Victory was still very
much in doubt, however, and Admiral Nimitz, fearing an imminent
Japanese occupation of the Solomon Islands directed Halsey to take
immediate command of the South Pacific Fleet. Halsey immediately
visited “his” nearly overwhelmed Marines on Guadalcanal and, and in
an effort to boost morale gave one of his trademark fiery – and
profane –speeches. He promised -- in his own inimitable style --
that in exchange for a victory he would “sail into Tokyo Bay, saddle
up Emperor Hirohito’s white stallion and gallop through the streets
of the Sacred City waving the Stars and Stripes.” The Marines on
Guadalcanal rallied and on hearing this news, the good people of the
Republic “passed the collection plate” and bought Admiral Halsey a
stylish saddle worthy of a conquering hero. As fate would have it,
Lieutenant Mack, one of the youngest commanding officers in Halsey’s
third fleet, (Mack had risen quickly to command after he had been
awarded the Silver Star for saving his destroyer from a torpedo
attack off Manila Bay in December 1941) was entrusted with
delivering this saddle. Lt Mack was determined to complete this
mission and --after dodging Kamikazes for a month or two --
exercised command initiative, steaming his destroyer into Tokyo Bay
and finally rendezvousing with the USS Missouri.
Lt Mack fearlessly and cheerfully
dragged that saddle all over the battleship and Halsey -- busy
accepting the Japanese surrender that day -- somehow still found the
time to meet. Wonderfully amused but unable to accept the generous
gift, Halsey sent his now favorite destroyer skipper back with
saddle in tow and his best wishes. Navy legend has it, however, that
Lt Mack kept that saddle onboard the bridge of his destroyer and
rode it until his return to the States, where he “dismounted” and
donated it to the Naval Academy museum!
We all had a great laugh about
Halsey’s saddle and knowing how much Admiral Mack loved Navy
football (and hoping to extend my time with the Supe) I told him my
favorite Navy/Notre Dame football story. When I had attended Notre
Dame Graduate School, Coach Lou Holtz --who would soon win the
National Championship -- spoke to our MBA class about overcoming
adversity. “At Notre Dame,” he said, “we expect academic excellence
and we expect to win despite a tough schedule. I know many
people think Notre Dame has the toughest schedule in America, but I
don’t. The toughest schedule I’ve ever seen is at Navy, where they
proudly post their schedule up on the stadium walls for all to see –
Pearl Harbor – Guadalcanal –Normandy - Iwo Jima. Now that’s a tough
schedule!” Adm Mack loved that Navy football still commanded so much
respect and he reminisced aloud about the Navy/Marine Corps Stadium
being a “memorial built by the donations of those who had served in
the World Wars – both enlisted and officers – many of whom had died
in those battles.” Since that visit with Admiral Mack at his home, I
have never been able to think about Navy Football or the Navy/Marine
Corps Stadium in quite the same way. I hope all our midshipmen --
and especially our Navy Football team-- understands and believes
that there is no other stadium like it in all of America and that we
honor the memory of the men who fought in those battles---like
Halsey and Nimitz and Mack--when we win!
An “ordinary man who accomplished
the extraordinary” (as Halsey would say) Admiral Mack was bright and
fun and tough and a positive leader who inspired his sailors and
marines and midshipman, and all served with him. Everyone respected
him, I believe, because he disdained political “one-upsmanship” and
encouraged all to share their opinions. At his farewell address in
Annapolis, he encouraged principled dissent, saying, “Begin at an
early age to cultivate an open mind and determine to hear all
arguments and opinions, no matter how extreme they may seem, and,
above all, to preserve and protect those who voice them”. Fine
advice from a thoughtful man who knew how to navigate through
dangerous waters.
Admiral Mack was a remarkable man
and while I know he had specifically requested a simple service --
so that no Marine or Sailor or Midshipman would have to stand at his
graveside “out in the cold”--- I believe that everyone of us would
have been honored to have been there, realizing that it will be a
long time before we see another happy warrior like William Paden
Mack.
Edward Reid USNA’78
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