'Play the Game'

‘Play the Game’ By COL Richard D. Hooker Jr. U.S. Army retired he colonel took command of the exist to fight, and professional officers And the regiment blind with dust and T1st Battalion, 50th Infantry, in Viet - exist to command. He hoped they’d all smoke. nam in June of 1970. Headquartered understand. He made his decision The river of death has brimmed his banks, at Phan Thiet, the battalion, like the quickly. And England’s far, and Honour a name, times, was … unusual. It was an inde - A couple of weeks later, he found But the voice of a schoolboy rallies the pendent mechanized infantry unit, himself flying to his firebase to take ranks: one of the very few in country. Not at - over. On short final, his chopper was “Play up! play up! and play the game!” tached to any of the glamorous divi - hit by ground fire and autorotated sions, it had been formed too late for into the landing zone, trailing smoke Now he began to understand. He World War I and fought in World War and crash landing in front of the re - already knew that units don’t win just II, but it was not, apparently, where ception party. It was not an auspicious because the commander gives orders. any ambitious officer would choose to beginning. There was a hurried brief - In his combat career, bad things had serve. Low on the priority list for sol - ing, a quick tour of the firebase and a happened and would happen again. diers and supplies, its primary mis - brief ceremony. The old guy flew He hoped he’d be up to the task of sion was to safeguard the critical away, and the weight of the world de - setting them right, but he knew that Highway 1 along the coast in the II scended upon the young colonel. the troopers would. Corps Tactical Zone . On his first day in command they This was the hardest thing he’d ever The colonel was young, maybe even gave him a pair of unit crests. He noted done. The war was winding down. No the youngest lieutenant colonel in the unit motto, “Play the Game. ” Most one wanted to be the last casualty, and Vietnam, but he’d been around. After of the unit’s soldiers would not recog - few in the unit harbored ambitions to six years with the paratroops, he’d nize the reference, but in the early part be a “lifer.” Still, there was an enemy to learned Vietnamese and gone to war of the century, Sir Henry Newbolt’s be found and fought. He got the troops in 1964 as an advisor to an Army of poem was famous around the world. off the carriers and into the bush. He the Republic of Vietnam infantry bat - taught them to shoot with aimed fire talion. While there, he’d eaten a lot of There’s a breathless hush in the Close to- and not to “spray and pray.” He fought dog meat, busted a lot of brush and night— in the field and worked the awesome learned about fighting the Vietcong Ten to make and the match to win— power of artillery, close air support the hard way. Later he’d gone back, as A bumping pitch and a blinding light, and attack helicopters. The battalion a major, for a second year as a staff of - An hour to play and the last man in. responded. In one month, they killed ficer. He’d been home only a few And it’s not for the sake of a ribboned coat, more Vietcong than the entire 4th Di - weeks when the phone rang. The 50th Or the selfish hope of a season’s fame, vision next door. was open. Did he want it? But his Captain’s hand on his shoulder He thought about it, but not much. smote n a brief six months—almost before it True, it was not a premier command. “Play up! play up! and play the game!” Istarted, it seemed—his tour was over. It was not the place where careers The battalion rotated back to the were made. Maybe, if he waited, The poem was archaic, written in United States. As a parting gift, some of something better would come along, the vernacular of a different age and the troopers gave him a boonie hat, em - perhaps a famous battalion under a people. The colonel looked it up and bellished with a Combat Infantryman rising star, a general who could take pondered. It seemed to talk about Badge and power beads around the him places. Then there was the family. youth, teamwork, leadership and in - crown. Embroidered on the side was a The old folks were aging and not well. spiration. The Central Highlands were laconic inscription: “Lean on Chuck.” It The wife was struggling with three a long way from an English cricket would become a treasured possession. kids, the oldest a young teenager. This pitch, but maybe there was something The nation hurried to forget Viet - would be his third tour in six years. here. Maybe the poet was trying to nam and the soldiers who served If all this crossed his mind, he did talk about timeless things. He read on. there. He would go on to complete an not linger on the “what ifs.” This was honorable career, rising to full colonel command. Command! The nation and The sand of the desert is sodden red,— and serving in Iran, the Philippines, the Army were at war. It was a bad Red with the wreck of a square that Saudi Arabia and Beirut. He would war—an unpopular war—but to the broke;— never command soldiers in battle professional soldier, those were not The Gatling‘s jammed and the Colonel again. Yet he was content. It had been reasons to shirk. Professional soldiers dead, enough to play the game. He hoped November 2013 I ARMY 17 he’d done it well. That was enough. with a quiet pride that the poet had he was young, and in command, and Years later, he came upon New - been right. He had passed the torch. played the game. I bolt’s poem again. Now, the last The colonel is an old man now. His stanza held new meaning for him. wife passed away years ago, and even COL Richard D. Hooker Jr. , USA Ret., Once more, he pondered. his grandchildren are grown. Most of Ph.D., entered the Army in 1975 as a ri - his Army buddies are gone, too. These fleman in the 82nd Airborne Division This is the word that year by year, days he has time, too much time, to and retired as an infantry colonel in While in her place the School is set, think and remember. He likes to look 2010. He is deputy commandant and Every one of her sons must hear, out his picture window at the Chop - dean of the NATO Defense College. His And none that hears it dare forget. tank River, at the marsh grass waving service included tours in Grenada, So - This they all with a joyful mind in the breeze, at the wheeling eagles malia, Rwanda, Bosnia, Kosovo, the Bear through life like a torch in flame, framed against the brilliant blue sky. Sinai, Iraq and Afghanistan. He also And falling fling to the host behind— The smell of cordite, the cacophony of served in the offices of the Chairman of “Play up! play up! and play the game!” outgoing artillery, the harsh thump of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the Secretary of massed rotor blades beating against the the Army and the Chief of Staff of the His son was commanding a battal - heavy air—all are fading memories, Army. A graduate of the U.S. Military ion now in some faraway place. In like the yellowed photos of that long- Academy, he has master’s and doctoral time, his grandson would also fight ago war. Still, he holds on to them. degrees in international relations from on the far frontier. It occurred to him They are constant reminders of when the University of Virginia. 18 ARMY I November 2013.

Load more