Faith of My Fathers: on Principles & Values
Graduated 5th from bottom of Naval Academy class
[At the end of my Naval training], I sat amid a sea of navy whites, fifth from the bottom of my class. I remember wishing at one point during commencement that my dismal performance at the Academy had earned me an even lower place in the class standings.
In those days, only the first one hundred graduates in the class were called to the dais to receive their diplomas from President Eisenhower. Graduation was conferred on the rest of us by company. The midshipman who graduates last in his class is
affectionately called the anchorman. When the anchorman’s company was called, he was cheered by the whole brigade and hoisted onto the shoulders of his friends. Eisenhower motioned him up to the dais, and to the crowd’s loud approval
personally handed him his diploma; both President and anchorman smiling broadly as the President patted him on the back and chatted with him for a few minutes. I thought it a fine gesture from a man who understood our traditions.
Source: “Faith of My Fathers”, first chapter
Nov 9, 1999
“Profligate rake” during Academy and Junior Officer years
My father and grandfather had enjoyed only slightly less tarnished reputations at the Naval Academy. My father, perhaps mindful of his own performance, rarely chastised me for falling well short of an exemplary midshipman’s standards. My behavior was
not something that particularly worried my father. I believe he assumed that, like him, I would be absorbed into the traditions of the place whether I wished to or not, and that when the time arrived for me to face a real test of character, I would not
disappoint him. He had seen many an officer who enjoyed the reputation of a rake-indeed, he had been one himself-rise to the occasion in the most dire situations. He expected no less from me.
Even as I spent my years as a junior officer in the same
profligate manner I had spent my Academy years, I cannot recall his severely rebuking me. He knew I would fight, and I think he trusted me to do my duty when my moment arrived. I don’t know if I deserved his trust, but I am proud to have had it.
Source: “Faith of My Fathers”, first chapter
Nov 9, 1999
At Naval Academy, misbehaved but followed tradition
[Although I] ignored the less important conventions of the Naval Academy, I was careful not to defame its more compelling traditions: the veneration of courage and resilience; the honor code that simply
assumed your fidelity to its principles; the homage paid to men who had sacrificed greatly for their country; the expectation that you, too, would prove worthy of your country’s trust.
Source: “Faith of My Fathers”, p. 151
Nov 9, 1999
Refused release to hurt Vietnamese & remain loyal to POWs
I spelled out the reasons [to my fellow inmates] why I should not [accept the Vietnamese offer of release from the POW camp]:Just letting me go is a propaganda victory for them. I can tell they really want me to go. And if they want something that
much it’s got to be a bad thing. I can’t give them that satisfaction.
Second, I would be disloyal to the rest of you. I know why they’re doing this-to make every guy here whose father isn’t an admiral think the [Army’s Code of Conduct] is shit. They’ll
tell all of you, “Your father’s not an admiral and nobody gives a damn about you.” And I don’t want to go home and see my father, and he wouldn’t want to see me under those conditions. I’ve got to say no.
Eventually, [the Vietnamese asked if I
considered their release offer]. “What is your answer?” “No, thank you.” “Why?” “American prisoners cannot accept parole, or amnesty or special favors. We must be released in the order of our capture.. My final answer is no.”
Source: “Faith of My Fathers”, p. 235
Nov 9, 1999
Survived as POW by faith to a higher cause
[Before being captured in Vietnam], I thought glory was the object of war, and all glory was self-glory. No more. For I have learned the truth: there are greater pursuits than self-seeking. Glory is not a conceit. It is not a prize for being the
most clever, the strongest, or the boldest. Glory belongs to the act of being constant to something greater than yourself, to a cause, to your principles, to the people on whom you rely, and who rely on you in return. No misfortune, no injury,
no humiliation can destroy it. This is the faith that my commanders affirmed, that my brothers-in-arms encouraged my allegiance to. It was the faith I had unknowingly embraced at the Naval Academy.
It was my father’s and grandfather’s faith. A filthy, crippled, broken man, all I had left of my dignity was the faith of my fathers. It was enough.
Source: “Faith of My Fathers”, p. 257
Nov 9, 1999
Vietnam was formative experience, but not his leitmotif
I did not want my experiences in Vietnam to be the leitmotif of the rest of my life. I am a public figure now, and my public profile is inextricably linked to my POW experiences. Obviously, such recognition has benefited my political
career, and I am grateful for that. Many men who came home from Vietnam, physically and spiritually damaged, to what appeared to be a country that did not understand or appreciate their sacrifice carried the war as a
great weight upon their subsequent search for happiness. But I have tried to make what use I can of Vietnam and not let the memories of war encumber the rest of my life’s progress. Neither have I been content to accept that
my time in Vietnam would stand as the ultimate experience of my life. Surely it was a formative experience, but I knew that life promised other adventures, and I hurried toward them.
Source: “Faith of My Fathers”, p. 346-347
Nov 9, 1999
Vietnam transformed him to self-confident and serious
Vietnam changed me, in significant ways, for the better. It is a surpassing irony that war, for all its horror, provides the combatant with every conceivable human experience. Experiences that usually take a lifetime to know are
all felt, and felt intensely, in one brief passage of life. The veteran knows what great loss and great joy feel like when they occur in the same moment, the same experience.Such an experience is transforming. And we can be
much the better for it. Surviving my imprisonment strengthened my self-confidence, and my refusal of early release taught me to trust my own judgment. I gained a seriousness of purpose that observers of my early life had found
difficult to detect. I would no longer err out of self-doubt or to alter a fate I felt had been imposed upon me.
Source: “Faith of My Fathers”, p. 347
Nov 9, 1999
Page last updated: Apr 16, 2013