Submitted by: LTC Michael D. Bianchi, Special Assistant to
the Chief of Staff, Army (CSA)
General
Weyand presented this speech at the GEORGE CATLETT MARSHALL MEMORIAL RECEPTION
AND DINNER for the Association of the United States Army Convention, held in
Washington, DC on October 18, 2000.
GEORGE CATLETT MARSHALL MEMORIAL
RECEPTION AND DINNER
Association of the United States
Army Convention
Washington, DC
October 18, 2000
Thank
you Gordon - my Granddaughters say,
Wow.
There isn't any better way to express it. Just before I came over here, I met
with General Ed Smith who has the United States Army Pacific in Hawaii. He
couldn't be here, he's in a War Fighter exercise at Fort Lewis, Washington. He
came over to the office, brought me this tin canteen cup. He said, This canteen
cup will remind you of your humble beginnings when you get all that
adulation!!” So that's my old Burma canteen cup.
Well,
it is great to be back in Washington. When Arline and I left here, it wasn't a
Freudian thing but it turned out we retired as far away from Washington as we
could get and still be in the United States. But it's nice to be back and
particularly when I have no work to do other than to talk about the Army and
myself.
You
know it would be as you can understand, a high honor to receive any award from
this great association. But to receive this recognition, tied as it is to that
name of General George Catlett Marshall, exceeds expectations far beyond
anything I could ever have imagined.
In
the fall of 1943, I was a young Major in Washington getting ready to go
overseas. I went over to Fort Myer Theater, sat down and lo and behold who
comes in and sits right in front of me but General Marshall. The newsreel was
the Battle of Tarawa. America had rarely witnessed anything close to that. Over
3000 marines wounded and killed in a little less than three days of fighting, a
fanatical enemy on an island no one had ever heard of.
I
sat there in total awe thinking of the tremendous power, the responsibility
that resided in General Marshall as Chief of Staff.
Well,
a few years later, I was at a retirement ceremony for General Ridgway. General
Ridgway was a frustrated Chief of Staff. I'll always remember he made the
remark that, “I found there were 19 people who could tell me no and only one
who could tell me yes.” And that turned out to be the President who steadfastly
refused to see him.
Well,
when I became Chief of Staff, I found it was not “My” Army, it was Bo
Callaway's and later Marty Hoffmann's Army, it was Jim Schlesinger's Army, it
was Senator Sam Nunn's Army, and it was the President's Army. Most of all, it
was and still is the Army of the American people.
Twenty-five
years ago as General Abrams and I sorted out the lessons of Vietnam, I wrote a
thesis on that point. And what I wrote was that the American Army really is a
people's army in the sense that it belongs to the American people who take a
jealous and proprietary interest in its involvement. What that means is when
the Army is committed, the American people are committed. In the final
analysis, the Army is an arm of the American people. I make that point because
for all of us in the Army, that bond between the people of our country and the
Army is a sacred trust. Today, as our political leaders debate about the use of
military force as an instrument of national policy, it is well for all of us to
remember that truth: the support of the people we are sworn to defend is
essential to the accomplishment of whatever mission is assigned us.
Now,
in a more mundane sense, I found out when I was the Army's Congressional
Liaison Officer, that the Chief of Staff stood with one foot in the Congress
and one foot in the White House, and the rest of him resided in the Pentagon.
One
day, Ted Clifton, who was President Kennedy's military aide, introduced me to
the President and he said, “Mr. President, this is General Weyend, he handles
Congress for the Army.” The President shook my hand and said, “Boy, I'd sure
hate to have your job.” Well, you know, I thought that was fair enough because
I didn't want his job either.
It
wasn't long after that, Bob Smart, who was the senior staff member of the House
Armed Services Committee called me over and said, “Fred, Chairman Vinton wants
to see the Secretary and the Chief of Staff tomorrow in his office at 7:00 in
the morning.” Well, we were at the Capitol and they were at the Pentagon,
across the river. And I said, “Bob, I'd be lucky if I could even get to see
them by tomorrow morning.” And he said, “Just do it.” So at 7:00 the next
morning, Secretary Starr and George Decker were in the Chairman's Office and
the Chairman said, “General Decker, I'm going to give the Army 50 million
dollars and I want to know what you're going to do with it.”
The
Secretary stepped in, responded for the Chief, and said. “Well, you know Mr.
Chairman, the President's Budget has been approved and so we're going to have
to stick with that.” And Chairman Vinton looked at him and said, “Mr.
Secretary, I'm going to build a fire under you!” And he did and the Army got
its 50 million dollars for procurement.
I
tell these little stories to make the point that the Chief of Staff is not a
free agent. And his ability to get things done is a measure of his ability to
build a consensus of support and understanding for what he's trying to do.
General
Marshall had such great stature as a military professional that in his time
virtually everyone involved in National Security valued his judgments. Beyond
military matters, he had a keen insight into all the other elements of National
Power and he understood what was necessary to achieve a National Consensus. I always
thought that the Marshal Plan was probably a testimonial more to his leadership
and his ability to form a consensus than all of his great achievements in World
War II.
I
had the privilege of serving under three of the Army's great leaders; General
Marshall, General Matt Ridgway, and General Creighton Abrams to whom I was
closest. General Abrams was a rare amalgam of leadership, wisdom, human
understanding and intellectual capacity. And all of that packed into the
uniform of an American soldier. I never knew anyone like Abe and I am so
honored here tonight that Julie, his wife, is here. She was the Army's Number
One Wife and she and Arline saw Abe and myself through thick and thin. They,
and all Army wives, are entitled to our applause. They are truly the wind
beneath our wings. I've often thought that our Army wives are the conscience
and the heart of the Army and we don't do enough for them, we don't talk about
them enough, but they are always there for the Army and us.
Well,
like the best of his predecessors, General Shinseki is building a consensus for
his vision. I'm going to be talking about General Shinseki, but the Secretary
is also a partner in this. I'm a soldier, so naturally I think about that man
in uniform. Rick comes from my adopted state of Hawaii. He recently delivered a
very moving address at a celebration in Honolulu for the Asian Americans who
were recently, and belatedly, awarded the Medal of Honor, the Congressional
Medal of Honor for their heroism in World War II. I was privileged to escort
Private Shizuya Hayashi during that ceremony and to hear General Shinseki delve
into the core of courageous soldiering. What he said in part and I'll read it
to you is, “No one can train to do what they did, in the deadly chaos of battle,
trust between soldiers takes on a value all its own. And when they fight,
soldiers fight for each other because of the trust they have placed in one
another.”
And
then he went on to point to the hidden instincts that surged to the surface of
these Asian American soldiers in their time of trial. They were trying to prove
something to their country that had walked away from them. He said, “From
somewhere within their breasts, on those terrible and distant battlefields,
these men of courage and action lifted themselves to such heights of human
endeavor that they have given themselves up to the ages.” Those profound
thoughts are pure “Shinseki” and I quote them to you because they under gird
this consensus that he's seeking from those of us in the Army, from the
Pentagon, from the Congress, and from the American people; a consensus for
transforming the Army, building on its precious, most precious asset - its
people. I know in today's world, high tech stuff is terribly important but what
the Chief and the Secretary settle on as their most precious asset is “people.”
General Shinseki's vision is based on experience and, in my opinion, sound
fundamentals. I know in some cases, the changes are revolutionary. But they
flow from careful study, from trial, from demonstration, and validation.
You
think of the changes we have seen just in my lifetime from 16-inch coastal guns
meant to defend San Francisco to intercontinental ballistic missiles. From
bolt-action rifles to fire and forget weapons, to satellites, and to
battlefield surveillance from satellites. And we now measure the depth of
battlefields in tens and hundreds of miles rather than yards. What I'm saying
is, this Army is used to change and it will continue to change. The army has
adapted and endured against every imaginable threat for 225 years. That's its
legacy and that's its future.
General
Shinseki has taken the first steps towards transforming the Army into a mobile,
flexible full-spectrum force with a high degree of lethality and survivability
on the battlefield. A force that can put, as he told you, a Brigade on the
ground anywhere in the world in a matter of hours and rapidly build it up over
a period of weeks to a Corps level force. Now, all of that is doable and
General Shinseki needs our solid support to make it happen.
You
know General Abrams, and later, General Colin Powell, have been my two
benchmarks of creative consensus leadership. And I believe that, given the same
circumstances that the Army's faced with today, that they'd probably proceed in
about the same way that Rick is doing it. I think probably General Abrams might
gag a little bit at putting wheels and tires on his tanks. But, I think in the
end he'd go ahead and do it if that's what was necessary to move forward.
I
told you about sitting in a theater behind General Marshall. I got my overseas
orders shortly after that. During that period of several months in 1943, I was
in the Washington area undergoing a very arduous training program in the German
Order of Battle. I knew everything there was to know about the German Army, its
leadership, its tactics, its weaponry, and its force structure; so I opened my
orders the day or so after I saw general Marshall. I was ordered to the
China/Burma/India Theater. Imagine that. There wasn't a German within a
thousand miles of the place.
I
told that story to a group of young officers and they said, “Yep, that's the
Army alright.” Well as a matter of fact, in this case, the Army was right.
General Stilwell in Burma had a desperate need for the kinds of intelligence I
could produce for him. And faced with daily morning meetings with Vinegar Joe
Stilwell, I learned the Japanese Order of Battle very, very quickly.
Well,
I was unprepared for Burma but not nearly so badly as General Stilwell's
forces. In May 1942, he was driven out of Burma, and withdrew back into India.
At that time, he said to the press, “We got a hell of a beating - we got run
out of Burma - it's humiliating as hell. We've got to find out what caused it
and retake it.” And that's exactly what he did, as General MacArthur did later
on in the Philippines. But, I tell you our lack of preparedness cost us dearly
in American lives.
You
know, for me, the memory of Burma is of twin battles against disease and the
enemy; of shifting missions against a largely unseen enemy; of soldiers leaving
their hospital beds to go down and defend a vital airstrip that we held at
Myitkyina.
But
for the most part what I remember is the indomitable spirit and courage of
those soldiers; the same kind of soldiers I later led in Korea and Vietnam.
Soldiers that did more; were doing more than their country had any right to ask
of them.
In
Burma, and in China, and later in Korea and Vietnam, there was always a daunting
and always underestimated problem of meshing our leadership and democratic
principles with those of a foreign culture. And I am sure that the problem will
continue to haunt us.
I
remember an instance in Burma where General Stilwell went to one of the five
Chinese divisions he'd trained and decorated a Chinese soldier for a
particularly outstanding act of heroism. He pinned the medal on him and we went
back to that Division maybe a week or so later to find that the Division
Commander had taken the medal away from the soldier and was wearing it on his
tunic. I mention that because although it is a small thing, it tells a lot
about two different cultures that are of huge importance as we mesh our vital
interests with those of peoples we barely understand.
The
Korean War for me was a defining moment in my life, as a man, as an
infantryman, and as a leader. I got my first Combat Command there. A Command I
worked and I prayed for. And I'll tell you when I got it in the winter of 1950,
to be intimately associated with those soldiers in combat was the most
rewarding experience of my life. And that's even including being the Chief of
Staff.
I
learned that men would follow me anywhere as long as I was out in front where
they could see me and hear me and know that I cared for them.
I
learned the value of realistic training, and training, and more training.
I
learned the value of reconnaissance and intelligence, personal knowledge of the
terrain and the enemy.
I
learned that precise, massive firepower resulted in lives saved and missions
accomplished.
I
learned to visualize and prepare for the worst that could happen and be
surprised at how often it happened.
I
learned that in the darkest hours my salvation lay in my faith. God gave me
strength when I needed it most and it's surprisingly how often we do need it.
And,
as in Burma, again I learned the pain of not being prepared.
At
the outbreak, you know of the Korean War, there were no allies to buy time for
us as there were in World War II. So we sent poorly equipped and trained
soldiers from Japan in there. Sent them in as cannon fodder, there's no other
better phrase to describe it, to buy time. My Division, for example, went in
three, four months after the war began and it was at half strength.
And
the price again in soldier's lives was enormous. Even in Vietnam, I took the
25th Division in there when there was plenty of time for our country to get us
prepared and yet I took only two Brigades in there. The third Brigade we formed
from scratch and came later.
General
Abrams and I spent 5 years of our lives immersed in the war in Vietnam. From
the outset we were fighting two wars. One war in the South against the
Guerrilla Forces of the Viet Cong, and one war aimed at stopping Hanoi's armed
aggression against the people of South Vietnam. Well, the back of the Viet Cong
was broken in Tet of 1968, that February and early spring of that year. With
that as a backdrop, General Abrams set about winning that war which he did.
Oddly enough, little has been written about that period covering some of Abe's
finest hours. An exception is Lewis “Bob” Sorely who has written a book about
the years 1968 to 1972, when Abe was in command. It's titled “A Better War,”
and I commend it to you because it'll give you a valuable perspective on a war
that we didn't lose on the battlefield.
After
Tet, General Westmoreland sent Walter Cronkite out to interview me. I was in
Command of the Forces in the South around Saigon and below and I was proud of
what we'd done. We had done a good job there. So, Walter came down and he spent
about an hour and a half interviewing me. And when we got done, he said, “well
you've got a fine story. But I'm not going to use any of it because I've been
up to Hue. I've seen the thousands of bodies up there in mass graves and I'm
determined to do all in my power to bring this war to an end as soon as
possible.”
It
didn't seem to matter that those thousands of bodies were of South Vietnamese
citizens who had been killed by the Hanoi soldiers and Walter wasn't alone in
this because I think many in the media mirrored his view. It was a far
different situation for me than when I was in Korea with my Battalion. I had a
fellow named John Randolph who was an Associated Press Correspondent. He
literally lived with our Battalion and he wrote about the men in a way that was
good for them. It raised their morale. He never undercut their effort nor
maligned the cause for which they fought. He became like one of them. He was
awarded the Silver Star for Valor for helping them retrieve wounded and dead
from the field of battle under fire.
When
I was in Paris at the Peace Talks, it was the most frustrating assignment I
think I ever had. Sitting in that conference, week after week listening to the
Hanoi negotiators, Le Duc Tho and his friends lecture us. Reading from the New
York Times, the Washington Post, the Herald Tribune, the Atlanta Constitution,
NBC, CBS, you name it. Their message was always the same. “Hey, read your
newspapers, listen to your TV. The American people want you out of Vietnam.
Now, why don't you just go ahead and get out?” So finally a Peace Agreement was
signed that everyone knew would be violated and with no recourse or hope of
enforcement on our part.
Now,
I am in no way blaming the media for the loss of South Vietnam; the blame, if
you can call it that, is very widespread. Thousands of books and articles cover
the subject from A to Z: dissembling political leaders, flawed strategy,
micromanagement from Washington, pursuing the wrong objective, skewed
reporting, the wrong war in the wrong place, violation of the principles of
war, and on and on.
The
War against the North was, of course, different than the War in the South. In
early 1969, I had an opportunity while General Buzz Wheeler was Chairman of the
Joint Chiefs of Staff to discuss the bombing in North Vietnam. The President
had halted it for a period of time and so I asked Buzz. “What's the portent,
what's the importance of this bombing?” It seemed to me so simple what he said,
“You know we never have had the intention of invading North Vietnam to
establish control on the ground, so air power and blockade were the offensive
elements of our national strategy.” There were times when it seemed like that
bombing program and the blockade were close to forcing Hanoi to agree to
meaningful negotiations with President Thieu, but in each instance, we backed
off, sometimes as an intended gesture of goodwill and sometimes because of loss
of our aircraft and our crews.
In
1970 the War in the South was well in hand in the South, and had the Air Force
and Navy been given free rein to apply air power to force Hanoi to negotiate in
good faith, I believe we could have had a Peace Agreement long before 1973. But
as it turned out, as Clausewitz might say, “Somewhere along the way we lost
sight of the objective.” By 1969, when I was there in Paris, our negotiating
team had lost faith in our mission and there was no doubt but that the American
people had withdrawn their support. President Nixon tried to turn the tide but
it was hopeless.
You
know there really isn't a humorous side to the Vietnam War - at least I haven't
found it. But there is one story I've got to tell you because it makes a point.
There were these two high school teams playing in the state championship. One
of these teams had never been there before, the team they were playing against
had beat them every time in the past they played with them. This underdog team
had the ball on their own 10-yard line with about two minutes to play. The
coach had used up all 3 quarterbacks. He had this kid who was in a suit but
he'd never played; he'd practiced a little. He thought, “You know I don't want
to turn that ball over, we can get a tie out of this, that's like a victory.”
So he called the kid in and he said, “Now you go in there and you hang on to
that ball. On the first play, you run the fullback off left tackle, the second
play you get the half back around right end, the third play you hang onto the
ball on a quarterback sneak, and then you punt.
So
the fullback ran off left tackle for about 15 yards, around right end for 20
yards, then the kid kept the ball and bulled his way all the way down to the
two-yard line. Then he stepped back and punted.
Well,
as he came off the field, the coach ran up to him and said, “What in the world
were you thinking of? First and goal and you punted.” The kid said, “I was
thinking about what a dumb coach we had.” Now, the point of that story is that
quarterback and that team on the field did not lose that ball game any more
than the Army and the soldiers who fought in Vietnam lost that war.
Believe
me, I've been in 3 wars, and more so than any other, the question, “Was it in
vain?,” was more common coming out of the Vietnam War. My answer to that is
that no soldier who has sacrificed his life in the struggle against tyranny and
oppression has ever died in vain. You know the cause for which the battle is
fought, more than the outcome, determines the worth of the sacrifice. And these
soldiers and airmen who fought and died in Burma and China were no more to
blame for the tragic consequences for those peoples than were our soldiers in
Vietnam.
In
the aftermath of Vietnam, for Abe and me, our watchwords were “Readiness” and
“Stability” for the Army. Because readiness was a given. Abe and I believed
that to build a truly ready Army, we needed a stable force. You've got to have
that. We both believed with stability, cutting out all the historic ups and
downs of Army strength, we could build a good Army. And thanks to Jim
Schlesinger, and Mr. Secretary, we'll always be indebted to you for that and to
Abe for his ability to fashion a consensus in the Congress. We did get a stable
strength for the time that we were in there. Unfortunately, we were never able
to get the money to equip, train, and maintain it properly.
In
those intervening years, this Association worked tirelessly to get for us a
ready, balanced force. I want to mention a fellow that some of you never heard
of, Bob Cocklin, who to me was the Founder of the Association. He and Cass, his
wife, and I were very good friends. I was a horse holder, as they say, in the
Secretary's Office and Bob used me as an intermediary to get to the Secretary
and the Chief of Staff to get their endorsement and their personal support for
what had to be done to get this Association up and running.
You
know in the aftermath of World War II, this Army was just made up of all of the
separate combat branches, the seven technical services, reserve components, and
a whole raft of separate entities of various kinds. All addressing their own
interests, but none of them speaking for the Army. There was a great need for
one voice that could speak to the interests and concerns of all of the Army and
its soldiers. And it was Bob Cocklin's vision that this Association would fill
that need. And so what we have today are the fruits of his labor; an
Association that is the champion for all of the men and women of the Army and
at the same time complements and expands the reach of the Secretary and the
Chief in telling the Army's story.
You
know it seems to me as I've sat outside watching each succeeding Chief of Staff
and President of this Association, that each in their own way has raised the
bar; has raised the level of excellence of the Army and of this Association.
And this is certainly true in the case of General Sullivan and his team.
Building on the past, looking to the future. They've taken this Association to
a higher level of accomplishment. The credibility of this Association is
obvious to me even out in Hawaii. All I have to do is read the results of the
Appropriations Committees. The credibility of this Association is reflected in
a positive way in everyone of those instances.
There's
a reason for this, because just as he did when he was Chief of Staff, Gordon is
out in front where the troops can see and hear him. You know every time I get
one of his torchbearer messages, I want to say, “Send me in, coach,” because he
really is a motivator. And Gordon, I have to tell you, we owe you a great debt
of gratitude.
So,
am I proud of this AUSA team? You bet I am!
Am
I proud of General Shinseki and his team? You bet I am!
And
most of all, am I proud of the men and women who wear the uniform of the United
States Army? You bet I am!
I
see a lot of them out in Hawaii, almost on a weekly basis I'd say. The 25th
Division was a fine Division when I commanded it; it's even greater now. It's
been under the command of a great General, General Kip Ward and his wife Joyce
and I tell you Kip and Joyce are leaving. These great men always seem to leave
too soon; Hawaii is really going to miss them. I go out there and I see young
men and women that they're associated with, that they're responsible for. Those
young people are clear eyed, they're bright, they're dedicated, and they're
professional. And above all, they're in the Army by choice. We owe them our
unqualified support for their selfless service.
General
Marshall was known for his skill at Grand Strategy. His vision of a world that
could be, under girded his Marshall plan. But he often turned his thoughts to
the Spirit of the Doughboy, the GI, the Rifleman, the Gunner, the Tanker, who
win America's wars. Just listen to these words from him:
“Morale
is a state of mind.
“It's
steadfastness and courage and hope.
“It's
confidence and zeal and loyalty.
“It's
élan, espirit de corps and determination.
“It's
staying power, the spirit which endures to the end, the will to win and with
it, all things are possible.”
General
Marshall was right; morale is a state of mind. You see it in these leaders
around us this evening; confident, steadfast, courageous, determined, and as
General Denny Reimer would say: “With soldiers as their credentials.”
Just
one more thing please before you sit down, you've been such a wonderful
audience for me. I want you to indulge me in just one more war story. When I
was Chief of Staff, one of my embarrassing experiences was when I went to my
first Army/Navy game, sitting there in the middle of the Corps of Cadets. My
aide comes up to me and he says: “General, this is where you lead the Corps in
the Army Yell.” And, I didn't know the Army Yell.
Well,
I stood up and thank the lord, it's like you lead the pledge of allegiance. As
soon as you stand up, say “I pledge allegiance,” the audience takes over. Well,
they started their yell without me. So what I'm going to ask you to do is let
me lead you in a yell as I did once before when I retired.
I
want to hear what 2700 people sound like when they shout:
Give
me an "A"; Give me an "R"; "give me an "M";
"give me an "Y"; "give me an "Army." Thank you
Biography:
Frederick Carlton Weyand
was born in Arbuckle, California, on 15 September 1916; was commissioned a
second lieutenant through the Reserve Officers Training Corps program at the
University of California at Berkeley, 1938, where he graduated in 1939; married
Arline Langhart, 1940; was called to active duty and served with the 6th
Artillery, 1940–1942; was promoted to temporary first lieutenant, June 1941,
and to captain in February and major in November 1942; graduated from the
Command and General Staff College at Fort Leavenworth, 1942; was adjutant of
the Harbor Defense Command, San Francisco, 1942–1943; served in the Office of
the Chief of Intelligence, War Department General Staff, 1944; was assistant
chief of staff for intelligence, China-Burma-India Theater, 1944–1945; was in
the Military Intelligence Service, Washington, 1945–1946; was promoted to
temporary lieutenant colonel, March 1945, and permanent captain, July 1948; was
chief of staff for intelligence, United States Army Forces, Middle Pacific,
1946–1949; graduated from the Infantry School at Fort Benning, 1950; was
battalion commander in the 7th Infantry and assistant chief of staff, G–3, of
the 3d Infantry Division in the Korean War, 1950–1951; served on the faculty of
the Infantry School, 1952–1953; attended the Armed Forces Staff College, 1953;
was military assistant in the Office of the Assistant Secretary of the Army for
Financial Management, 1953–1954; was military assistant and executive to the
secretary of the Army, 1954–1957; was promoted to permanent major, July 1953,
and temporary colonel, July 1955; graduated from the Army War College, 1958;
commanded the 3d Battle Group, 6th Infantry, in Europe, 1958–1959; served in
the Office of the United States Commander in Berlin, 1960; was promoted to
temporary brigadier general, July 1960; was chief of staff, Communications
Zone, United States Army, Europe, 1960–1961; was deputy chief and chief of
legislative liaison, Department of the Army, 1961–1964; was promoted to
permanent lieutenant colonel, September 1961, and to temporary major general,
November 1962; was commander of the 25th Infantry Division, Hawaii, 1964–1966,
and in Vietnam operations, 1966–1967; was promoted to permanent colonel,
September 1966; was deputy, acting commander, and commander of II Field Force,
Vietnam, 1967–1968; was chief of the Office of Reserve Components, 1968–1969;
was promoted to permanent brigadier and major general and temporary lieutenant
general, August 1968, and temporary general, October 1970; was military adviser
at the Paris peace talks, 1969–1970; was assistant chief of staff for force
development, 1970; was successively deputy commander and commander of the
United States Military Assistance Command, Vietnam, 1970–1973; was commander in
chief of the United States Army, Pacific, 1973; was vice chief of staff of the
United States Army, 1973–1974; was chief of staff of the United States Army, 3
October 1974–30 September 1976; supervised Army moves to improve the
combat-to-support troop ratio, to achieve a sixteen-division force, to enhance
the effectiveness of roundout units, and to improve personnel and logistical
readiness; retired from active service, October 1976.
This document was prepared by CALL, Ft Leavenworth,
KS.