Thomas Upton "Tug" Greer, age 86, Major General (Ret), United States Army, died at home in Milledgeville, GA, on Friday, February 21, 2014.
Tug was born in Colon, Panama on February 2, 1928. He was a 1950 graduate of the United States Military Academy at West Point and a US Army Veteran retiring as a highly decorated Infantry Officer after 31 years of service. In 1981 he moved to Kiawah Island, SC, where he was one of the founders of the Kiawah Island Property Owners Group. Tug was actively involved in the Milledgeville community since 2000 when he married Judith Lacksen. He was a member of the Sacred Heart Catholic Church choir and past president of the Milledgeville Kiwanis Club, as well as the Old Capitol MOAA. Tug spoke frequently to community groups about foreign policy and defense issues. He enjoyed his grandchildren, golf and serving as a Grandfather Reader in the public schools.
He is survived by his wife Judith "Flo" Greer of Milledgeville, daughters Kathleen (Billy) Windham of Tobaccoville, NC and Margaret (John) Mann of Matthews, NC, son Timothy M. Greer of Columbia, SC, grandchildren Matthew (Nikki) Windham of Raleigh, NC, Jennifer (Jon) Hooks of Cary, NC, Allison Jaslow of Washington, DC., Lauren Jaslow of New York City, NY and Caitlin Jaslow of Arlington, VA. Two sisters also survive: Gene Plante of Providence, RI and Rebecca Greer of Chatham, NY.
He was preceded in death by his parents Brigadier General Frank Upton Greer and May Mann Greer, a son, Thomas Upton Greer, Jr., wife, Patty Greer, and brothers Colonel Charles Francis Greer and Frank Upton Greer, III.
A funeral mass will be said Friday, February 28, 2014 at 11:00 am at Sacred Heart Catholic Church and a memorial service will be held at 3:00 pm at the Milledgeville First United Methodist Church.
In lieu of flowers, the family requests that memorial contributions be made to either Sacred Heart Catholic Church, Milledgeville First United Methodist Church or The National Infantry Museum , 1775 Legacy Way Columbus, Georgia 31903.
http://www.nationalinfantrymuseum.org/
Our Grandfather's Obituary – My Version
BY JENNYHOOKS ON FEBRUARY 22, 2014
So…I've decided to write my own version:
Our grandfather, Major General (Ret.) Thomas U. Greer, passed away at his home on February 21st at the age of 86. Surrounded by his wife and daughters, he left this world to see what's waiting for him in the next.
See, the fact that he was a West Point Graduate, a highly decorated 31 year veteran of the US Army, an active member of his community, and a true man of God…Those things speak for themselves. They will be reflected in his legacy – and remembered by everyone that had the honor of knowing him. This is the stuff that makes it to an obituary – and (probably for good reason), no one asked me to weigh in on this.
Major General Thomas U. "Pops" Greer (Ret), took his final nap on Friday, February 21st. He woke up shortly after in his recliner in Heaven.
A lover of all animals (except squirrels), Pops would routinely show his grandchildren the wonders of nature from the banks of a Kiawah Island lagoon, or the backseat of a 1986 Oldsmobile Calais. Seemingly the Dr. Doolittle of the Low Country, alligators Big George, Gaylord, Little Louis and Baby Jay would routinely pop up out of the murky waters to say hello. (Sidenote: They wanted to publicly apologize for their friend that bit him on the golf course that day). Ducklings Dipper and Diver would entertain him for hours with their antics, and the local deer, racoon and opossums would come out at night to wave hello to Pops and his friends.
31 years in the US Army are bound to leave their mark on a man, and this was frequently exhibited by Pops' staunch opposition to wearing ball caps in the house and elbows on the table. As a devout Catholic, Mass was a place for worship and never, ever, ever, ever for giggling uncontrollably while he was singing. Although we have yet to find the passage in the Bible, let it be known that it is absolutely forbidden to spoil the outcome of a Redskins game that was previously recorded. He also knew that the character of a person was based on what is on the inside, and would be all but oblivious to external appearances. This was made evident by his complete lack of acknowledgement when one granddaughter took scissors to the hair of another while he was asleep in his chair. (Sorry, Allie.) This oblivion did not, however, translate to showing up with a piercing or tattoo.
A little known fact about Pops (AKA Tug) is his refined palate. A bowl of Raisin Bran was not complete without a sprinkle of Grape Nuts, nor was a turkey sandwich worth eating without the perfect portion of plain Lays potato chips to accompany. Even suggesting that ice cream flavors other than Neapolitan or French Vanilla existed would blow his mind. When confronted with cultural cuisine (i.e. Mexican), he would showcase his refined knowledge by interchanging commonly known words like "tortilla" with lesser known words like "serape".
Always good for a story, his favorite one to tell was about Little Suzie. Poor Little Suzie. While the story was different every time, his grandchildren would always walk away with the same perspective: Why, oh why, did Little Suzie always end up chasing her ball down that hill? Didn't she know that there would be an elephant, lion, tiger, other large animal just waiting for her? Luckily the predators Suzie encountered were always extremely gentle and in need of her help…to remove a thorn from a paw or to help find their way home. I'd say Suzie dodged multiple bullets…all for the love of her red bouncy ball.
Today, and every day, any child that ever knew Pops will see a little bit of magic in the smallest things. A book, a golf ball retriever, a silly joke, a deer, an ocean wave, a garage door opener. Those that were lucky enough to spend time with him will know that there's always room for a funny face or a silly song. We're all still hoping we never fall out of a window and sprain our eyebrow on the pavement.
Pops' legacy is not that of a Two-Star General, but that of a Five-Star Grandfather.
I wish I could have seen his face when he got to The Pearly Gates. I know that St. Peter sneakily reached for a hidden button, said "Open Sesame", and the gates opened to welcome him home.
melissa@joyineveryseason says:
FEBRUARY 22, 2014 AT 9:35 PM
best obituary ever! prayers and hugs for your family ♥
Reply
Dan Braughton says:
FEBRUARY 23, 2014 AT 8:57 AM
I now have a connection with Gen. Greer beyond love of God and Country… Grape Nuts in my cereal. He's dead on right about that.
Reply
Janet ligon says:
FEBRUARY 23, 2014 AT 3:25 AM
What a beautiful heartfelt, obituary.
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Becky Morgan says:
FEBRUARY 23, 2014 AT 4:19 AM
Absolutely the greatest obituary I've ever read. Bless your family at this difficult time. A sense of humor goes a long way in healing from a loss.
Reply
Chris Brindamour says:
FEBRUARY 23, 2014 AT 8:51 AM
WOW….that is awesome Jenny! You nailed it! While I didn't get to spend much time with "Uncle TUG" I do have a lot a fond memories of him as I do all of the "Greers".
By the way, in case you don't know or remember me…have we met? There are so many of us, and family is HUGE in our family. I am Nana "Gene's" oldest grandson, son of Maryanne & Peter, we are the Rhode Island part of the family. I don't know about you, but I always end up asking my mother or grandmother, now who do they belong to??
My biggest memory of "Pops or Uncle TUG", and I don't even know what you call this. It was a little game that he would play. He would twist he ear and his tongue would come out, then he would push his nose and it would start wagging his tongue and he made a "na..na..na" sound. Then he would push his nose to stop his tongue, then twist his other ear to make it go back in.
He also taught us that FAMILY is the most important thing in life.
Rest is peace Uncle TUG, I am sure you have everyone in heaven laughing!
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Tina McLure says:
FEBRUARY 23, 2014 AT 1:25 PM
Loved it Jenny and I know he has a big smile on his face that you remembered all the little things that count the most. Proud of you. ❤
Reply
Jackie (Johnson) Dyas says:
FEBRUARY 23, 2014 AT 4:11 PM
Precious words about a precious man. Much love to all of the Greer's and the extended family. Love you Maggie. Thinking of you often these days. Jackie
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Tom Rozman says:
MARCH 26, 2019 AT 9:31 PM
I was Pops' aide-de-camp in the 2nd Infantry Division in Korea, a very great privilege. He was a brigadier general then and i a 1st lieutenant and we had the professional relationship that situation entailed…and a very good one. But your personal obituary of the general captures an aspect of him that was always just under the surface. Thank you for writing it, it brought him back in a delightful way. I last saw him on my way to New England from Ft. Benning when he was at Ft. Dix. We had a great visit.
Lieutenant Colonel (Ret) Thom Rozman
Reply
jennyhooks says:
APRIL 5, 2019 AT 8:15 PM
Tom – my apologies that it's taken me this long to reply. I love connecting with people that knew Pops, and am so glad that this post helped you remember and reflect on your relationship with him. I know he'd be proud that you remember him so fondly.
Reply
////////////////////////////////////From CWO3 Bob Rainbolt, A.K.A., Son-Inlaw of Nanna Plante///////
From Bob Rainbolt (Son-In-Law of Tugs sister, Mary "Gene" McCaskey Plante)
Jenny Hooks, Tugs granddaughter, wrote a most beautiful tribute above. I was glad to have known Tug and served with him in Hawaii in 1975-77. He was a great soldier, a "BY the book" General" that ultimately saved a lot of lives. His training and experiences , especially during Korea, taught hom to always be trained and prepared to fight. This concept saved lives of his soldiers in Vietnam.
It was a great honor and a highlight of my Army career to have had the opportunity to be at a luncheon with and in the honor of General of the Army, Five Star General Omar Bradley. Tug, the commanding General of United States Army Command Hawaii was in attendance and it was awesome to be there with him also. I kept saying to myself, that is General Bradley, I could not believe it, but it was true, I was right in front of his table staring right at this legend. This was in October 1976. General Bradley was in a wheel chair with an aide (Lieutenant Colonel) looking after him. General Bradley talked a lot about General Patton. Tug was honored and excited to be present also since his Dad, BG Greer had served under Eisenhower and Bradley. TUG had told his own chief of staff to monitor the days itinerary/ agenda and coordinate with General Bradleys staff to ensure everything was done right and especially be aware of any special needs of General Bradley and his staff. My mother in law (Tugs sister) had a picture of BG Greer with General Eisenhower she had shown me once. I would love to get my hands on it now to make a copy. I have the only known copy of General Bradley signing into Quad C Dining Facility at Schofield Barracks that day. The Mess sergeant kept the original and said he would not make any other copies except one I received. I find it awesome, he signed his signature, rank of General of The Army, Grade 0-11. I love it!!!!
The following is a Devotional or Speech given at
Brigham Young University-Hawaii
July 31, 2012
BY: Elder Lance B. Wickman
General Counsel and Emeritus General Authority
What a delight it is to be with you today on this beautiful campus in this idyllic setting! I have been reflecting that it is now more than 47 years since my bride Pat and I first set foot on this campus. Forty-seven years—nearly a half-century! To you students, I must seem like the proverbial "Ancient of Days," and perhaps I am. But in my mind's eye, as I look upon this familiar setting and smell again the fragrance of island flowers, it seems but yesterday.
We were newlyweds. Our marriage covenants, solemnized in the Los Angeles Temple, were not a year and a half old. But we came here neither as honeymooners nor as students. I was an Army officer—a lieutenant of infantry. Having only just completed the Army's Ranger course, I was assigned as a rifle platoon leader in an infantry battalion of the 25th Infantry Division, stationed at Schofield Barracks. We had rented a small duplex apartment on the beach, literally, on the beach, at Waialua.
In those days, there were only four stakes on the island. Our stake was the Oahu Stake, which included all of northern Oahu, and the stake center was just across the street from where we are seated today. The Polynesian Cultural Center was scarcely two years old and decidedly smaller and less imposing in its presentation and stature than it is today. Laie itself was a sleepy community tucked away here on the northeast shore of Oahu and seemed to be in a time warp—light years from the distant "big city" of Honolulu. And the university? Well, there was no "university," as such. It was a mere "college"—the Church College of Hawaii, as it was then known.
To us, arriving early on a Sunday morning in the Honolulu harbor by ocean liner, courtesy of the U.S. Government, it seemed as though we had arrived in paradise! The balmy, fragrant trade winds, the gently waving palm trees, the glistening ocean and white, sandy beaches, and the languid pace of island life made us feel as if we truly had "died and gone to heaven." Even Schofield Barracks, where my battalion was based, was picturesque with its broad green parade grounds, palm trees and flowers and stuccoed and tiled quadrangles. It seemed to be a movie set straight out of the film From Here to Eternity, which, of course, it was! Then, finding that North Shore duplex with a sliding glass door that opened out onto the beach made our idyll complete. We anticipated a three-year tour of duty in the Garden of Eden amidst the sun, sand, surf and blue sky.
How wrong we were. My anticipated "three years in Eden" turned out to be much shorter, a charming prelude to a tour of duty in the Inferno. Our battalion shipped out to Vietnam six months after our arrival and my sweetheart was left here by herself. Our dream was shattered, our future fraught with uncertainty. Ten months after that departure I was returned here to Tripler Army Hospital for surgery and convalescence for wounds received in combat. What had begun as a tour of duty in "paradise" became one of the most trying seasons of our lives.
But if it was trying, it was also defining. As I wander my hall of memories today, and when I think of the dark shadows through which we passed in that challenging season of our lives, it is not the beach and the palm trees that come first to mind. It is not the "picture postcard" Hawaii that we thought we would experience when we stepped off the ship a near half-century ago.
Rather, it is the Koolau Mountains, those rugged, volcanic green peaks that run down the spine of Oahu and that are situated a stone's throw behind this campus, that come to mind. Those steep ridgelines were to become for me a training ground that has profoundly influenced my entire life. It is an experience in the Koolaus that captures the message I wish to leave with you. I have entitled this address, The Parable of the Foxholes.
In October of that year, 1965, just a few months after our arrival, our battalion received a new commander, Lieutenant Colonel Thomas U. Greer– "Tug" Greer, as his peers called him. Tug Greer was a graduate of the United States Military Academy at West Point, Class of 1951. In 1951, the Korean War was raging. Most of the West Point class that year was assigned immediately to the combat zone. Many of Tug Greer's classmates died on the rugged slopes of that land. But Tug had survived and remained in the Army. And now, 14 years later, he was assigned to command our battalion.
No sooner did he assume command, than Col. Greer took the battalion on a week-long training exercise in the Kahuku Training Area at the northern end of the Koolau Mountains. The Army still maintains a training area there. As many of you know, the Koolaus are made up of steep slopes of volcanic rock with little topsoil and covered with thick, green vegetation. For five days, we struggled up and down those slopes in one infantry maneuver after another. Finally, it was Saturday morning, the last day of the exercise. All of us looked forward to returning early to our battalion headquarters, turning in our equipment and hitting the beach. After all, we were young, and what was the point of being stationed here in Hawaii if you could not go to the beach! You know what I mean! I remember gazing down early that morning from my perch on the side of one of those steep ridgelines at the shimmering sand and sparkling ocean. Below me I could see green pasture land with cows peacefully grazing. Beyond the pasture ran the black ribbon of Kam Highway that circles the island. And beyond the highway lay the white sands of the beach and the ocean gleaming like a sapphire. I could hardly wait!
About that time, my reverie was interrupted as Col. Greer came to our rifle company's position. To our company commander, Captain Jim Andrus, he said, "As the last exercise of this training, I would like Charlie Company, that was us– "C" Company, to establish defensive positions." Now, among other things, establishing defensive positions meant digging foxholes. You know what a foxhole is. It is a hole in the ground where a soldier can seek shelter from enemy fire. But this was volcanic rock! And we were only equipped with those little folding shovels which the Army calls "entrenching tools." So, as Capt. Andrus gathered us platoon leaders around to give us the orders for establishing defensive positions, he said, "Since we want to get this over with quickly, we won't actually dig foxholes. Instead, we will simply do 'simulated foxholes'– we will just mark out on the ground where we would put the foxholes."
So, that is what we did. A little while later, Col. Greer came around to inspect our "defensive positions." I remember it like it was yesterday! As he came to the first of these "simulated foxholes," he asked Capt. Andrus, "What are those?" Clearing his throat a little nervously, Capt. Andrus responded, "Well, sir, those are simulated foxholes." "Simulated foxholes!!" roared Col. Greer, and then he said a few other things. "I ordered this company to prepare defensive positions, and that means digging foxholes! This company is going to stay out here and dig until it learns how to dig foxholes that look like they came out of the training manual!" And so, as the rest of the battalion packed up weapons and equipment and headed back to the base and an afternoon at the beach, Charlie Company remained out on that hillside. And we dug, and we dug, and we dug. Col. Greer's name was on everyone's lips that afternoon, and I can tell you that he was not winning any popularity contests that day! I seem to recall that there was even some speculation on his genealogy! But by evening, we had foxholes that really looked just like they came out of the training manual.
However, you see, there was something that we did not know that beautiful Hawaiian Saturday. When Col. Greer had been given his orders assigning him as our battalion commander, he had also received some other orders that he could not share with us– top secret orders, orders sending our battalion to Vietnam. We did not know it at the time, but this would be our last training exercise. And Col. Tug Greer, with his vivid memories of his fallen classmates on the rugged hillsides of Korea was determined to do all that he could to preserve the lives of those men entrusted to his care. That training exercise up into the rugged Koolaus was the moment, the final moment, for polishing those combat skills that could save our lives—even including something as pedestrian as digging a proper foxhole. Vietnam would be too late.
A few weeks later the battalion deployed to Vietnam. Upon arrival, it reached the spot in the division's defensive perimeter assigned to us late in an afternoon. Col. Greer's order again went out: "Establish defensive positions." Our men dug in because that is what you did in Tug Greer's battalion. Another battalion next to ours, arriving at the same time, only scooped out some shallow cavities in the ground, not unlike our Hawaiian "simulated foxholes," planning to dig real foxholes the next day. But that night, the Viet Cong enemy launched a ferocious mortar barrage into the green troops. Our men were safe and secure in their foxholes, but the men of that neighboring battalion were not so fortunate. The next morning Tug Greer's name was again on everyone's lips—but this time with reverence and respect. I still regard him as one of the great men I have known. From him I learned one of life's most powerful lessons: There is indeed a "time for every purpose under heaven"—even a time to learn to dig a foxhole. Thus, is the Parable of the Foxholes.
Like most parables, the "Parable of the Foxholes" has multiple teachings. But today I draw upon it for just one of them. The Parable of the Foxholes teaches the truth of the timeless maxim: "When the time for performance is present, the time for preparation is past." While that teaching is relevant to us all, it has particular application to you, my young friends, who are in life's springtime– nature's season for planting and preparation. And so I would like to ask each of you– rhetorically, but personally– three basic questions about the state of your own preparation, as though you were on the witness stand in a court of law. No one will know your answers except you and the Lord. But then, you are the only ones that matter anyhow. You must answer truthfully for the simple reason that there is no concealing the truth from either of you.
Army Chaplain Jim Higgins
Just received the MFUMC newsletter where I saw memorials given for Tug. This breaks my heart. I enjoyed getting to know him, and getting reacquainted after coming back from Iraq. Tug was a true gentleman and quite humble. I remember driving with him to one of his treatments in Covington back in 05, what a gift. I was leading a marriage retreat in FL for returning Soldiers and their spouses when I finished reading Tommy Franks biography. In his afterward he talked about his best bosses and included Tug. I told him about it when I next saw him and in true Tug style he said, "We all knew Tommy was going places, he was very gifted". Typical Tug to focus on the positive gifts of others.
My prayers to Judy and the family...
Rest easy Tug.
CH Jim Higgins
Jim Higgins
March 15, 2014 | Martinez, GA
By—Lawrence S. Pertillar
Soldier
Soldier
Soldier,
I know you Soldier.
Your brave exterior
Conceals a heart that cares.
Your instinct to protect,
Goes beyond what's expected.
And your willingness to die...
Hides tears inside alone you cry!
Soldier
Soldier,
Spit shined and processed.
With nerves of steel,
In fields to deflect with precision and defend.
No one but your comrades feel...
Those bold stances taken until the end.
My heart is shakened by your zeal!
And if your footsteps should leave prints
In pools of splattered blood,
It uncovers a fear you may smother...
And we back and cheer you, Soldier!
Soldier?
Soldier...
I know you Soldier!
So proud I am to know you like I do!
So aware I am of you, Soldier.
Sacrifices you make...
Elevates my thoughts of you!
Tug was born in Colon, Panama on February 2, 1928. He was a 1950 graduate of the United States Military Academy at West Point and a US Army Veteran retiring as a highly decorated Infantry Officer after 31 years of service. In 1981 he moved to Kiawah Island, SC, where he was one of the founders of the Kiawah Island Property Owners Group. Tug was actively involved in the Milledgeville community since 2000 when he married Judith Lacksen. He was a member of the Sacred Heart Catholic Church choir and past president of the Milledgeville Kiwanis Club, as well as the Old Capitol MOAA. Tug spoke frequently to community groups about foreign policy and defense issues. He enjoyed his grandchildren, golf and serving as a Grandfather Reader in the public schools.
He is survived by his wife Judith "Flo" Greer of Milledgeville, daughters Kathleen (Billy) Windham of Tobaccoville, NC and Margaret (John) Mann of Matthews, NC, son Timothy M. Greer of Columbia, SC, grandchildren Matthew (Nikki) Windham of Raleigh, NC, Jennifer (Jon) Hooks of Cary, NC, Allison Jaslow of Washington, DC., Lauren Jaslow of New York City, NY and Caitlin Jaslow of Arlington, VA. Two sisters also survive: Gene Plante of Providence, RI and Rebecca Greer of Chatham, NY.
He was preceded in death by his parents Brigadier General Frank Upton Greer and May Mann Greer, a son, Thomas Upton Greer, Jr., wife, Patty Greer, and brothers Colonel Charles Francis Greer and Frank Upton Greer, III.
A funeral mass will be said Friday, February 28, 2014 at 11:00 am at Sacred Heart Catholic Church and a memorial service will be held at 3:00 pm at the Milledgeville First United Methodist Church.
In lieu of flowers, the family requests that memorial contributions be made to either Sacred Heart Catholic Church, Milledgeville First United Methodist Church or The National Infantry Museum , 1775 Legacy Way Columbus, Georgia 31903.
http://www.nationalinfantrymuseum.org/
Our Grandfather's Obituary – My Version
BY JENNYHOOKS ON FEBRUARY 22, 2014
So…I've decided to write my own version:
Our grandfather, Major General (Ret.) Thomas U. Greer, passed away at his home on February 21st at the age of 86. Surrounded by his wife and daughters, he left this world to see what's waiting for him in the next.
See, the fact that he was a West Point Graduate, a highly decorated 31 year veteran of the US Army, an active member of his community, and a true man of God…Those things speak for themselves. They will be reflected in his legacy – and remembered by everyone that had the honor of knowing him. This is the stuff that makes it to an obituary – and (probably for good reason), no one asked me to weigh in on this.
Major General Thomas U. "Pops" Greer (Ret), took his final nap on Friday, February 21st. He woke up shortly after in his recliner in Heaven.
A lover of all animals (except squirrels), Pops would routinely show his grandchildren the wonders of nature from the banks of a Kiawah Island lagoon, or the backseat of a 1986 Oldsmobile Calais. Seemingly the Dr. Doolittle of the Low Country, alligators Big George, Gaylord, Little Louis and Baby Jay would routinely pop up out of the murky waters to say hello. (Sidenote: They wanted to publicly apologize for their friend that bit him on the golf course that day). Ducklings Dipper and Diver would entertain him for hours with their antics, and the local deer, racoon and opossums would come out at night to wave hello to Pops and his friends.
31 years in the US Army are bound to leave their mark on a man, and this was frequently exhibited by Pops' staunch opposition to wearing ball caps in the house and elbows on the table. As a devout Catholic, Mass was a place for worship and never, ever, ever, ever for giggling uncontrollably while he was singing. Although we have yet to find the passage in the Bible, let it be known that it is absolutely forbidden to spoil the outcome of a Redskins game that was previously recorded. He also knew that the character of a person was based on what is on the inside, and would be all but oblivious to external appearances. This was made evident by his complete lack of acknowledgement when one granddaughter took scissors to the hair of another while he was asleep in his chair. (Sorry, Allie.) This oblivion did not, however, translate to showing up with a piercing or tattoo.
A little known fact about Pops (AKA Tug) is his refined palate. A bowl of Raisin Bran was not complete without a sprinkle of Grape Nuts, nor was a turkey sandwich worth eating without the perfect portion of plain Lays potato chips to accompany. Even suggesting that ice cream flavors other than Neapolitan or French Vanilla existed would blow his mind. When confronted with cultural cuisine (i.e. Mexican), he would showcase his refined knowledge by interchanging commonly known words like "tortilla" with lesser known words like "serape".
Always good for a story, his favorite one to tell was about Little Suzie. Poor Little Suzie. While the story was different every time, his grandchildren would always walk away with the same perspective: Why, oh why, did Little Suzie always end up chasing her ball down that hill? Didn't she know that there would be an elephant, lion, tiger, other large animal just waiting for her? Luckily the predators Suzie encountered were always extremely gentle and in need of her help…to remove a thorn from a paw or to help find their way home. I'd say Suzie dodged multiple bullets…all for the love of her red bouncy ball.
Today, and every day, any child that ever knew Pops will see a little bit of magic in the smallest things. A book, a golf ball retriever, a silly joke, a deer, an ocean wave, a garage door opener. Those that were lucky enough to spend time with him will know that there's always room for a funny face or a silly song. We're all still hoping we never fall out of a window and sprain our eyebrow on the pavement.
Pops' legacy is not that of a Two-Star General, but that of a Five-Star Grandfather.
I wish I could have seen his face when he got to The Pearly Gates. I know that St. Peter sneakily reached for a hidden button, said "Open Sesame", and the gates opened to welcome him home.
melissa@joyineveryseason says:
FEBRUARY 22, 2014 AT 9:35 PM
best obituary ever! prayers and hugs for your family ♥
Reply
Dan Braughton says:
FEBRUARY 23, 2014 AT 8:57 AM
I now have a connection with Gen. Greer beyond love of God and Country… Grape Nuts in my cereal. He's dead on right about that.
Reply
Janet ligon says:
FEBRUARY 23, 2014 AT 3:25 AM
What a beautiful heartfelt, obituary.
Reply
Becky Morgan says:
FEBRUARY 23, 2014 AT 4:19 AM
Absolutely the greatest obituary I've ever read. Bless your family at this difficult time. A sense of humor goes a long way in healing from a loss.
Reply
Chris Brindamour says:
FEBRUARY 23, 2014 AT 8:51 AM
WOW….that is awesome Jenny! You nailed it! While I didn't get to spend much time with "Uncle TUG" I do have a lot a fond memories of him as I do all of the "Greers".
By the way, in case you don't know or remember me…have we met? There are so many of us, and family is HUGE in our family. I am Nana "Gene's" oldest grandson, son of Maryanne & Peter, we are the Rhode Island part of the family. I don't know about you, but I always end up asking my mother or grandmother, now who do they belong to??
My biggest memory of "Pops or Uncle TUG", and I don't even know what you call this. It was a little game that he would play. He would twist he ear and his tongue would come out, then he would push his nose and it would start wagging his tongue and he made a "na..na..na" sound. Then he would push his nose to stop his tongue, then twist his other ear to make it go back in.
He also taught us that FAMILY is the most important thing in life.
Rest is peace Uncle TUG, I am sure you have everyone in heaven laughing!
Reply
Tina McLure says:
FEBRUARY 23, 2014 AT 1:25 PM
Loved it Jenny and I know he has a big smile on his face that you remembered all the little things that count the most. Proud of you. ❤
Reply
Jackie (Johnson) Dyas says:
FEBRUARY 23, 2014 AT 4:11 PM
Precious words about a precious man. Much love to all of the Greer's and the extended family. Love you Maggie. Thinking of you often these days. Jackie
Reply
Tom Rozman says:
MARCH 26, 2019 AT 9:31 PM
I was Pops' aide-de-camp in the 2nd Infantry Division in Korea, a very great privilege. He was a brigadier general then and i a 1st lieutenant and we had the professional relationship that situation entailed…and a very good one. But your personal obituary of the general captures an aspect of him that was always just under the surface. Thank you for writing it, it brought him back in a delightful way. I last saw him on my way to New England from Ft. Benning when he was at Ft. Dix. We had a great visit.
Lieutenant Colonel (Ret) Thom Rozman
Reply
jennyhooks says:
APRIL 5, 2019 AT 8:15 PM
Tom – my apologies that it's taken me this long to reply. I love connecting with people that knew Pops, and am so glad that this post helped you remember and reflect on your relationship with him. I know he'd be proud that you remember him so fondly.
Reply
////////////////////////////////////From CWO3 Bob Rainbolt, A.K.A., Son-Inlaw of Nanna Plante///////
From Bob Rainbolt (Son-In-Law of Tugs sister, Mary "Gene" McCaskey Plante)
Jenny Hooks, Tugs granddaughter, wrote a most beautiful tribute above. I was glad to have known Tug and served with him in Hawaii in 1975-77. He was a great soldier, a "BY the book" General" that ultimately saved a lot of lives. His training and experiences , especially during Korea, taught hom to always be trained and prepared to fight. This concept saved lives of his soldiers in Vietnam.
It was a great honor and a highlight of my Army career to have had the opportunity to be at a luncheon with and in the honor of General of the Army, Five Star General Omar Bradley. Tug, the commanding General of United States Army Command Hawaii was in attendance and it was awesome to be there with him also. I kept saying to myself, that is General Bradley, I could not believe it, but it was true, I was right in front of his table staring right at this legend. This was in October 1976. General Bradley was in a wheel chair with an aide (Lieutenant Colonel) looking after him. General Bradley talked a lot about General Patton. Tug was honored and excited to be present also since his Dad, BG Greer had served under Eisenhower and Bradley. TUG had told his own chief of staff to monitor the days itinerary/ agenda and coordinate with General Bradleys staff to ensure everything was done right and especially be aware of any special needs of General Bradley and his staff. My mother in law (Tugs sister) had a picture of BG Greer with General Eisenhower she had shown me once. I would love to get my hands on it now to make a copy. I have the only known copy of General Bradley signing into Quad C Dining Facility at Schofield Barracks that day. The Mess sergeant kept the original and said he would not make any other copies except one I received. I find it awesome, he signed his signature, rank of General of The Army, Grade 0-11. I love it!!!!
The following is a Devotional or Speech given at
Brigham Young University-Hawaii
July 31, 2012
BY: Elder Lance B. Wickman
General Counsel and Emeritus General Authority
What a delight it is to be with you today on this beautiful campus in this idyllic setting! I have been reflecting that it is now more than 47 years since my bride Pat and I first set foot on this campus. Forty-seven years—nearly a half-century! To you students, I must seem like the proverbial "Ancient of Days," and perhaps I am. But in my mind's eye, as I look upon this familiar setting and smell again the fragrance of island flowers, it seems but yesterday.
We were newlyweds. Our marriage covenants, solemnized in the Los Angeles Temple, were not a year and a half old. But we came here neither as honeymooners nor as students. I was an Army officer—a lieutenant of infantry. Having only just completed the Army's Ranger course, I was assigned as a rifle platoon leader in an infantry battalion of the 25th Infantry Division, stationed at Schofield Barracks. We had rented a small duplex apartment on the beach, literally, on the beach, at Waialua.
In those days, there were only four stakes on the island. Our stake was the Oahu Stake, which included all of northern Oahu, and the stake center was just across the street from where we are seated today. The Polynesian Cultural Center was scarcely two years old and decidedly smaller and less imposing in its presentation and stature than it is today. Laie itself was a sleepy community tucked away here on the northeast shore of Oahu and seemed to be in a time warp—light years from the distant "big city" of Honolulu. And the university? Well, there was no "university," as such. It was a mere "college"—the Church College of Hawaii, as it was then known.
To us, arriving early on a Sunday morning in the Honolulu harbor by ocean liner, courtesy of the U.S. Government, it seemed as though we had arrived in paradise! The balmy, fragrant trade winds, the gently waving palm trees, the glistening ocean and white, sandy beaches, and the languid pace of island life made us feel as if we truly had "died and gone to heaven." Even Schofield Barracks, where my battalion was based, was picturesque with its broad green parade grounds, palm trees and flowers and stuccoed and tiled quadrangles. It seemed to be a movie set straight out of the film From Here to Eternity, which, of course, it was! Then, finding that North Shore duplex with a sliding glass door that opened out onto the beach made our idyll complete. We anticipated a three-year tour of duty in the Garden of Eden amidst the sun, sand, surf and blue sky.
How wrong we were. My anticipated "three years in Eden" turned out to be much shorter, a charming prelude to a tour of duty in the Inferno. Our battalion shipped out to Vietnam six months after our arrival and my sweetheart was left here by herself. Our dream was shattered, our future fraught with uncertainty. Ten months after that departure I was returned here to Tripler Army Hospital for surgery and convalescence for wounds received in combat. What had begun as a tour of duty in "paradise" became one of the most trying seasons of our lives.
But if it was trying, it was also defining. As I wander my hall of memories today, and when I think of the dark shadows through which we passed in that challenging season of our lives, it is not the beach and the palm trees that come first to mind. It is not the "picture postcard" Hawaii that we thought we would experience when we stepped off the ship a near half-century ago.
Rather, it is the Koolau Mountains, those rugged, volcanic green peaks that run down the spine of Oahu and that are situated a stone's throw behind this campus, that come to mind. Those steep ridgelines were to become for me a training ground that has profoundly influenced my entire life. It is an experience in the Koolaus that captures the message I wish to leave with you. I have entitled this address, The Parable of the Foxholes.
In October of that year, 1965, just a few months after our arrival, our battalion received a new commander, Lieutenant Colonel Thomas U. Greer– "Tug" Greer, as his peers called him. Tug Greer was a graduate of the United States Military Academy at West Point, Class of 1951. In 1951, the Korean War was raging. Most of the West Point class that year was assigned immediately to the combat zone. Many of Tug Greer's classmates died on the rugged slopes of that land. But Tug had survived and remained in the Army. And now, 14 years later, he was assigned to command our battalion.
No sooner did he assume command, than Col. Greer took the battalion on a week-long training exercise in the Kahuku Training Area at the northern end of the Koolau Mountains. The Army still maintains a training area there. As many of you know, the Koolaus are made up of steep slopes of volcanic rock with little topsoil and covered with thick, green vegetation. For five days, we struggled up and down those slopes in one infantry maneuver after another. Finally, it was Saturday morning, the last day of the exercise. All of us looked forward to returning early to our battalion headquarters, turning in our equipment and hitting the beach. After all, we were young, and what was the point of being stationed here in Hawaii if you could not go to the beach! You know what I mean! I remember gazing down early that morning from my perch on the side of one of those steep ridgelines at the shimmering sand and sparkling ocean. Below me I could see green pasture land with cows peacefully grazing. Beyond the pasture ran the black ribbon of Kam Highway that circles the island. And beyond the highway lay the white sands of the beach and the ocean gleaming like a sapphire. I could hardly wait!
About that time, my reverie was interrupted as Col. Greer came to our rifle company's position. To our company commander, Captain Jim Andrus, he said, "As the last exercise of this training, I would like Charlie Company, that was us– "C" Company, to establish defensive positions." Now, among other things, establishing defensive positions meant digging foxholes. You know what a foxhole is. It is a hole in the ground where a soldier can seek shelter from enemy fire. But this was volcanic rock! And we were only equipped with those little folding shovels which the Army calls "entrenching tools." So, as Capt. Andrus gathered us platoon leaders around to give us the orders for establishing defensive positions, he said, "Since we want to get this over with quickly, we won't actually dig foxholes. Instead, we will simply do 'simulated foxholes'– we will just mark out on the ground where we would put the foxholes."
So, that is what we did. A little while later, Col. Greer came around to inspect our "defensive positions." I remember it like it was yesterday! As he came to the first of these "simulated foxholes," he asked Capt. Andrus, "What are those?" Clearing his throat a little nervously, Capt. Andrus responded, "Well, sir, those are simulated foxholes." "Simulated foxholes!!" roared Col. Greer, and then he said a few other things. "I ordered this company to prepare defensive positions, and that means digging foxholes! This company is going to stay out here and dig until it learns how to dig foxholes that look like they came out of the training manual!" And so, as the rest of the battalion packed up weapons and equipment and headed back to the base and an afternoon at the beach, Charlie Company remained out on that hillside. And we dug, and we dug, and we dug. Col. Greer's name was on everyone's lips that afternoon, and I can tell you that he was not winning any popularity contests that day! I seem to recall that there was even some speculation on his genealogy! But by evening, we had foxholes that really looked just like they came out of the training manual.
However, you see, there was something that we did not know that beautiful Hawaiian Saturday. When Col. Greer had been given his orders assigning him as our battalion commander, he had also received some other orders that he could not share with us– top secret orders, orders sending our battalion to Vietnam. We did not know it at the time, but this would be our last training exercise. And Col. Tug Greer, with his vivid memories of his fallen classmates on the rugged hillsides of Korea was determined to do all that he could to preserve the lives of those men entrusted to his care. That training exercise up into the rugged Koolaus was the moment, the final moment, for polishing those combat skills that could save our lives—even including something as pedestrian as digging a proper foxhole. Vietnam would be too late.
A few weeks later the battalion deployed to Vietnam. Upon arrival, it reached the spot in the division's defensive perimeter assigned to us late in an afternoon. Col. Greer's order again went out: "Establish defensive positions." Our men dug in because that is what you did in Tug Greer's battalion. Another battalion next to ours, arriving at the same time, only scooped out some shallow cavities in the ground, not unlike our Hawaiian "simulated foxholes," planning to dig real foxholes the next day. But that night, the Viet Cong enemy launched a ferocious mortar barrage into the green troops. Our men were safe and secure in their foxholes, but the men of that neighboring battalion were not so fortunate. The next morning Tug Greer's name was again on everyone's lips—but this time with reverence and respect. I still regard him as one of the great men I have known. From him I learned one of life's most powerful lessons: There is indeed a "time for every purpose under heaven"—even a time to learn to dig a foxhole. Thus, is the Parable of the Foxholes.
Like most parables, the "Parable of the Foxholes" has multiple teachings. But today I draw upon it for just one of them. The Parable of the Foxholes teaches the truth of the timeless maxim: "When the time for performance is present, the time for preparation is past." While that teaching is relevant to us all, it has particular application to you, my young friends, who are in life's springtime– nature's season for planting and preparation. And so I would like to ask each of you– rhetorically, but personally– three basic questions about the state of your own preparation, as though you were on the witness stand in a court of law. No one will know your answers except you and the Lord. But then, you are the only ones that matter anyhow. You must answer truthfully for the simple reason that there is no concealing the truth from either of you.
Army Chaplain Jim Higgins
Just received the MFUMC newsletter where I saw memorials given for Tug. This breaks my heart. I enjoyed getting to know him, and getting reacquainted after coming back from Iraq. Tug was a true gentleman and quite humble. I remember driving with him to one of his treatments in Covington back in 05, what a gift. I was leading a marriage retreat in FL for returning Soldiers and their spouses when I finished reading Tommy Franks biography. In his afterward he talked about his best bosses and included Tug. I told him about it when I next saw him and in true Tug style he said, "We all knew Tommy was going places, he was very gifted". Typical Tug to focus on the positive gifts of others.
My prayers to Judy and the family...
Rest easy Tug.
CH Jim Higgins
Jim Higgins
March 15, 2014 | Martinez, GA
By—Lawrence S. Pertillar
Soldier
Soldier
Soldier,
I know you Soldier.
Your brave exterior
Conceals a heart that cares.
Your instinct to protect,
Goes beyond what's expected.
And your willingness to die...
Hides tears inside alone you cry!
Soldier
Soldier,
Spit shined and processed.
With nerves of steel,
In fields to deflect with precision and defend.
No one but your comrades feel...
Those bold stances taken until the end.
My heart is shakened by your zeal!
And if your footsteps should leave prints
In pools of splattered blood,
It uncovers a fear you may smother...
And we back and cheer you, Soldier!
Soldier?
Soldier...
I know you Soldier!
So proud I am to know you like I do!
So aware I am of you, Soldier.
Sacrifices you make...
Elevates my thoughts of you!
Thomas Upton "Tug" Greer, age 86, Major General (Ret), United States Army, died at home in Milledgeville, GA, on Friday, February 21, 2014.
Tug was born in Colon, Panama on February 2, 1928. He was a 1950 graduate of the United States Military Academy at West Point and a US Army Veteran retiring as a highly decorated Infantry Officer after 31 years of service. In 1981 he moved to Kiawah Island, SC, where he was one of the founders of the Kiawah Island Property Owners Group. Tug was actively involved in the Milledgeville community since 2000 when he married Judith Lacksen. He was a member of the Sacred Heart Catholic Church choir and past president of the Milledgeville Kiwanis Club, as well as the Old Capitol MOAA. Tug spoke frequently to community groups about foreign policy and defense issues. He enjoyed his grandchildren, golf and serving as a Grandfather Reader in the public schools.
He is survived by his wife Judith "Flo" Greer of Milledgeville, daughters Kathleen (Billy) Windham of Tobaccoville, NC and Margaret (John) Mann of Matthews, NC, son Timothy M. Greer of Columbia, SC, grandchildren Matthew (Nikki) Windham of Raleigh, NC, Jennifer (Jon) Hooks of Cary, NC, Allison Jaslow of Washington, DC., Lauren Jaslow of New York City, NY and Caitlin Jaslow of Arlington, VA. Two sisters also survive: Gene Plante of Providence, RI and Rebecca Greer of Chatham, NY.
He was preceded in death by his parents Brigadier General Frank Upton Greer and May Mann Greer, a son, Thomas Upton Greer, Jr., wife, Patty Greer, and brothers Colonel Charles Francis Greer and Frank Upton Greer, III.
A funeral mass will be said Friday, February 28, 2014 at 11:00 am at Sacred Heart Catholic Church and a memorial service will be held at 3:00 pm at the Milledgeville First United Methodist Church.
In lieu of flowers, the family requests that memorial contributions be made to either Sacred Heart Catholic Church, Milledgeville First United Methodist Church or The National Infantry Museum , 1775 Legacy Way Columbus, Georgia 31903.
http://www.nationalinfantrymuseum.org/
Our Grandfather's Obituary – My Version
BY JENNYHOOKS ON FEBRUARY 22, 2014
So…I've decided to write my own version:
Our grandfather, Major General (Ret.) Thomas U. Greer, passed away at his home on February 21st at the age of 86. Surrounded by his wife and daughters, he left this world to see what's waiting for him in the next.
See, the fact that he was a West Point Graduate, a highly decorated 31 year veteran of the US Army, an active member of his community, and a true man of God…Those things speak for themselves. They will be reflected in his legacy – and remembered by everyone that had the honor of knowing him. This is the stuff that makes it to an obituary – and (probably for good reason), no one asked me to weigh in on this.
Major General Thomas U. "Pops" Greer (Ret), took his final nap on Friday, February 21st. He woke up shortly after in his recliner in Heaven.
A lover of all animals (except squirrels), Pops would routinely show his grandchildren the wonders of nature from the banks of a Kiawah Island lagoon, or the backseat of a 1986 Oldsmobile Calais. Seemingly the Dr. Doolittle of the Low Country, alligators Big George, Gaylord, Little Louis and Baby Jay would routinely pop up out of the murky waters to say hello. (Sidenote: They wanted to publicly apologize for their friend that bit him on the golf course that day). Ducklings Dipper and Diver would entertain him for hours with their antics, and the local deer, racoon and opossums would come out at night to wave hello to Pops and his friends.
31 years in the US Army are bound to leave their mark on a man, and this was frequently exhibited by Pops' staunch opposition to wearing ball caps in the house and elbows on the table. As a devout Catholic, Mass was a place for worship and never, ever, ever, ever for giggling uncontrollably while he was singing. Although we have yet to find the passage in the Bible, let it be known that it is absolutely forbidden to spoil the outcome of a Redskins game that was previously recorded. He also knew that the character of a person was based on what is on the inside, and would be all but oblivious to external appearances. This was made evident by his complete lack of acknowledgement when one granddaughter took scissors to the hair of another while he was asleep in his chair. (Sorry, Allie.) This oblivion did not, however, translate to showing up with a piercing or tattoo.
A little known fact about Pops (AKA Tug) is his refined palate. A bowl of Raisin Bran was not complete without a sprinkle of Grape Nuts, nor was a turkey sandwich worth eating without the perfect portion of plain Lays potato chips to accompany. Even suggesting that ice cream flavors other than Neapolitan or French Vanilla existed would blow his mind. When confronted with cultural cuisine (i.e. Mexican), he would showcase his refined knowledge by interchanging commonly known words like "tortilla" with lesser known words like "serape".
Always good for a story, his favorite one to tell was about Little Suzie. Poor Little Suzie. While the story was different every time, his grandchildren would always walk away with the same perspective: Why, oh why, did Little Suzie always end up chasing her ball down that hill? Didn't she know that there would be an elephant, lion, tiger, other large animal just waiting for her? Luckily the predators Suzie encountered were always extremely gentle and in need of her help…to remove a thorn from a paw or to help find their way home. I'd say Suzie dodged multiple bullets…all for the love of her red bouncy ball.
Today, and every day, any child that ever knew Pops will see a little bit of magic in the smallest things. A book, a golf ball retriever, a silly joke, a deer, an ocean wave, a garage door opener. Those that were lucky enough to spend time with him will know that there's always room for a funny face or a silly song. We're all still hoping we never fall out of a window and sprain our eyebrow on the pavement.
Pops' legacy is not that of a Two-Star General, but that of a Five-Star Grandfather.
I wish I could have seen his face when he got to The Pearly Gates. I know that St. Peter sneakily reached for a hidden button, said "Open Sesame", and the gates opened to welcome him home.
melissa@joyineveryseason says:
FEBRUARY 22, 2014 AT 9:35 PM
best obituary ever! prayers and hugs for your family ♥
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Dan Braughton says:
FEBRUARY 23, 2014 AT 8:57 AM
I now have a connection with Gen. Greer beyond love of God and Country… Grape Nuts in my cereal. He's dead on right about that.
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Janet ligon says:
FEBRUARY 23, 2014 AT 3:25 AM
What a beautiful heartfelt, obituary.
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Becky Morgan says:
FEBRUARY 23, 2014 AT 4:19 AM
Absolutely the greatest obituary I've ever read. Bless your family at this difficult time. A sense of humor goes a long way in healing from a loss.
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Chris Brindamour says:
FEBRUARY 23, 2014 AT 8:51 AM
WOW….that is awesome Jenny! You nailed it! While I didn't get to spend much time with "Uncle TUG" I do have a lot a fond memories of him as I do all of the "Greers".
By the way, in case you don't know or remember me…have we met? There are so many of us, and family is HUGE in our family. I am Nana "Gene's" oldest grandson, son of Maryanne & Peter, we are the Rhode Island part of the family. I don't know about you, but I always end up asking my mother or grandmother, now who do they belong to??
My biggest memory of "Pops or Uncle TUG", and I don't even know what you call this. It was a little game that he would play. He would twist he ear and his tongue would come out, then he would push his nose and it would start wagging his tongue and he made a "na..na..na" sound. Then he would push his nose to stop his tongue, then twist his other ear to make it go back in.
He also taught us that FAMILY is the most important thing in life.
Rest is peace Uncle TUG, I am sure you have everyone in heaven laughing!
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Tina McLure says:
FEBRUARY 23, 2014 AT 1:25 PM
Loved it Jenny and I know he has a big smile on his face that you remembered all the little things that count the most. Proud of you. ❤
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Jackie (Johnson) Dyas says:
FEBRUARY 23, 2014 AT 4:11 PM
Precious words about a precious man. Much love to all of the Greer's and the extended family. Love you Maggie. Thinking of you often these days. Jackie
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Tom Rozman says:
MARCH 26, 2019 AT 9:31 PM
I was Pops' aide-de-camp in the 2nd Infantry Division in Korea, a very great privilege. He was a brigadier general then and i a 1st lieutenant and we had the professional relationship that situation entailed…and a very good one. But your personal obituary of the general captures an aspect of him that was always just under the surface. Thank you for writing it, it brought him back in a delightful way. I last saw him on my way to New England from Ft. Benning when he was at Ft. Dix. We had a great visit.
Lieutenant Colonel (Ret) Thom Rozman
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jennyhooks says:
APRIL 5, 2019 AT 8:15 PM
Tom – my apologies that it's taken me this long to reply. I love connecting with people that knew Pops, and am so glad that this post helped you remember and reflect on your relationship with him. I know he'd be proud that you remember him so fondly.
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////////////////////////////////////From CWO3 Bob Rainbolt, A.K.A., Son-Inlaw of Nanna Plante///////
From Bob Rainbolt (Son-In-Law of Tugs sister, Mary "Gene" McCaskey Plante)
Jenny Hooks, Tugs granddaughter, wrote a most beautiful tribute above. I was glad to have known Tug and served with him in Hawaii in 1975-77. He was a great soldier, a "BY the book" General" that ultimately saved a lot of lives. His training and experiences , especially during Korea, taught hom to always be trained and prepared to fight. This concept saved lives of his soldiers in Vietnam.
It was a great honor and a highlight of my Army career to have had the opportunity to be at a luncheon with and in the honor of General of the Army, Five Star General Omar Bradley. Tug, the commanding General of United States Army Command Hawaii was in attendance and it was awesome to be there with him also. I kept saying to myself, that is General Bradley, I could not believe it, but it was true, I was right in front of his table staring right at this legend. This was in October 1976. General Bradley was in a wheel chair with an aide (Lieutenant Colonel) looking after him. General Bradley talked a lot about General Patton. Tug was honored and excited to be present also since his Dad, BG Greer had served under Eisenhower and Bradley. TUG had told his own chief of staff to monitor the days itinerary/ agenda and coordinate with General Bradleys staff to ensure everything was done right and especially be aware of any special needs of General Bradley and his staff. My mother in law (Tugs sister) had a picture of BG Greer with General Eisenhower she had shown me once. I would love to get my hands on it now to make a copy. I have the only known copy of General Bradley signing into Quad C Dining Facility at Schofield Barracks that day. The Mess sergeant kept the original and said he would not make any other copies except one I received. I find it awesome, he signed his signature, rank of General of The Army, Grade 0-11. I love it!!!!
The following is a Devotional or Speech given at
Brigham Young University-Hawaii
July 31, 2012
BY: Elder Lance B. Wickman
General Counsel and Emeritus General Authority
What a delight it is to be with you today on this beautiful campus in this idyllic setting! I have been reflecting that it is now more than 47 years since my bride Pat and I first set foot on this campus. Forty-seven years—nearly a half-century! To you students, I must seem like the proverbial "Ancient of Days," and perhaps I am. But in my mind's eye, as I look upon this familiar setting and smell again the fragrance of island flowers, it seems but yesterday.
We were newlyweds. Our marriage covenants, solemnized in the Los Angeles Temple, were not a year and a half old. But we came here neither as honeymooners nor as students. I was an Army officer—a lieutenant of infantry. Having only just completed the Army's Ranger course, I was assigned as a rifle platoon leader in an infantry battalion of the 25th Infantry Division, stationed at Schofield Barracks. We had rented a small duplex apartment on the beach, literally, on the beach, at Waialua.
In those days, there were only four stakes on the island. Our stake was the Oahu Stake, which included all of northern Oahu, and the stake center was just across the street from where we are seated today. The Polynesian Cultural Center was scarcely two years old and decidedly smaller and less imposing in its presentation and stature than it is today. Laie itself was a sleepy community tucked away here on the northeast shore of Oahu and seemed to be in a time warp—light years from the distant "big city" of Honolulu. And the university? Well, there was no "university," as such. It was a mere "college"—the Church College of Hawaii, as it was then known.
To us, arriving early on a Sunday morning in the Honolulu harbor by ocean liner, courtesy of the U.S. Government, it seemed as though we had arrived in paradise! The balmy, fragrant trade winds, the gently waving palm trees, the glistening ocean and white, sandy beaches, and the languid pace of island life made us feel as if we truly had "died and gone to heaven." Even Schofield Barracks, where my battalion was based, was picturesque with its broad green parade grounds, palm trees and flowers and stuccoed and tiled quadrangles. It seemed to be a movie set straight out of the film From Here to Eternity, which, of course, it was! Then, finding that North Shore duplex with a sliding glass door that opened out onto the beach made our idyll complete. We anticipated a three-year tour of duty in the Garden of Eden amidst the sun, sand, surf and blue sky.
How wrong we were. My anticipated "three years in Eden" turned out to be much shorter, a charming prelude to a tour of duty in the Inferno. Our battalion shipped out to Vietnam six months after our arrival and my sweetheart was left here by herself. Our dream was shattered, our future fraught with uncertainty. Ten months after that departure I was returned here to Tripler Army Hospital for surgery and convalescence for wounds received in combat. What had begun as a tour of duty in "paradise" became one of the most trying seasons of our lives.
But if it was trying, it was also defining. As I wander my hall of memories today, and when I think of the dark shadows through which we passed in that challenging season of our lives, it is not the beach and the palm trees that come first to mind. It is not the "picture postcard" Hawaii that we thought we would experience when we stepped off the ship a near half-century ago.
Rather, it is the Koolau Mountains, those rugged, volcanic green peaks that run down the spine of Oahu and that are situated a stone's throw behind this campus, that come to mind. Those steep ridgelines were to become for me a training ground that has profoundly influenced my entire life. It is an experience in the Koolaus that captures the message I wish to leave with you. I have entitled this address, The Parable of the Foxholes.
In October of that year, 1965, just a few months after our arrival, our battalion received a new commander, Lieutenant Colonel Thomas U. Greer– "Tug" Greer, as his peers called him. Tug Greer was a graduate of the United States Military Academy at West Point, Class of 1951. In 1951, the Korean War was raging. Most of the West Point class that year was assigned immediately to the combat zone. Many of Tug Greer's classmates died on the rugged slopes of that land. But Tug had survived and remained in the Army. And now, 14 years later, he was assigned to command our battalion.
No sooner did he assume command, than Col. Greer took the battalion on a week-long training exercise in the Kahuku Training Area at the northern end of the Koolau Mountains. The Army still maintains a training area there. As many of you know, the Koolaus are made up of steep slopes of volcanic rock with little topsoil and covered with thick, green vegetation. For five days, we struggled up and down those slopes in one infantry maneuver after another. Finally, it was Saturday morning, the last day of the exercise. All of us looked forward to returning early to our battalion headquarters, turning in our equipment and hitting the beach. After all, we were young, and what was the point of being stationed here in Hawaii if you could not go to the beach! You know what I mean! I remember gazing down early that morning from my perch on the side of one of those steep ridgelines at the shimmering sand and sparkling ocean. Below me I could see green pasture land with cows peacefully grazing. Beyond the pasture ran the black ribbon of Kam Highway that circles the island. And beyond the highway lay the white sands of the beach and the ocean gleaming like a sapphire. I could hardly wait!
About that time, my reverie was interrupted as Col. Greer came to our rifle company's position. To our company commander, Captain Jim Andrus, he said, "As the last exercise of this training, I would like Charlie Company, that was us– "C" Company, to establish defensive positions." Now, among other things, establishing defensive positions meant digging foxholes. You know what a foxhole is. It is a hole in the ground where a soldier can seek shelter from enemy fire. But this was volcanic rock! And we were only equipped with those little folding shovels which the Army calls "entrenching tools." So, as Capt. Andrus gathered us platoon leaders around to give us the orders for establishing defensive positions, he said, "Since we want to get this over with quickly, we won't actually dig foxholes. Instead, we will simply do 'simulated foxholes'– we will just mark out on the ground where we would put the foxholes."
So, that is what we did. A little while later, Col. Greer came around to inspect our "defensive positions." I remember it like it was yesterday! As he came to the first of these "simulated foxholes," he asked Capt. Andrus, "What are those?" Clearing his throat a little nervously, Capt. Andrus responded, "Well, sir, those are simulated foxholes." "Simulated foxholes!!" roared Col. Greer, and then he said a few other things. "I ordered this company to prepare defensive positions, and that means digging foxholes! This company is going to stay out here and dig until it learns how to dig foxholes that look like they came out of the training manual!" And so, as the rest of the battalion packed up weapons and equipment and headed back to the base and an afternoon at the beach, Charlie Company remained out on that hillside. And we dug, and we dug, and we dug. Col. Greer's name was on everyone's lips that afternoon, and I can tell you that he was not winning any popularity contests that day! I seem to recall that there was even some speculation on his genealogy! But by evening, we had foxholes that really looked just like they came out of the training manual.
However, you see, there was something that we did not know that beautiful Hawaiian Saturday. When Col. Greer had been given his orders assigning him as our battalion commander, he had also received some other orders that he could not share with us– top secret orders, orders sending our battalion to Vietnam. We did not know it at the time, but this would be our last training exercise. And Col. Tug Greer, with his vivid memories of his fallen classmates on the rugged hillsides of Korea was determined to do all that he could to preserve the lives of those men entrusted to his care. That training exercise up into the rugged Koolaus was the moment, the final moment, for polishing those combat skills that could save our lives—even including something as pedestrian as digging a proper foxhole. Vietnam would be too late.
A few weeks later the battalion deployed to Vietnam. Upon arrival, it reached the spot in the division's defensive perimeter assigned to us late in an afternoon. Col. Greer's order again went out: "Establish defensive positions." Our men dug in because that is what you did in Tug Greer's battalion. Another battalion next to ours, arriving at the same time, only scooped out some shallow cavities in the ground, not unlike our Hawaiian "simulated foxholes," planning to dig real foxholes the next day. But that night, the Viet Cong enemy launched a ferocious mortar barrage into the green troops. Our men were safe and secure in their foxholes, but the men of that neighboring battalion were not so fortunate. The next morning Tug Greer's name was again on everyone's lips—but this time with reverence and respect. I still regard him as one of the great men I have known. From him I learned one of life's most powerful lessons: There is indeed a "time for every purpose under heaven"—even a time to learn to dig a foxhole. Thus, is the Parable of the Foxholes.
Like most parables, the "Parable of the Foxholes" has multiple teachings. But today I draw upon it for just one of them. The Parable of the Foxholes teaches the truth of the timeless maxim: "When the time for performance is present, the time for preparation is past." While that teaching is relevant to us all, it has particular application to you, my young friends, who are in life's springtime– nature's season for planting and preparation. And so I would like to ask each of you– rhetorically, but personally– three basic questions about the state of your own preparation, as though you were on the witness stand in a court of law. No one will know your answers except you and the Lord. But then, you are the only ones that matter anyhow. You must answer truthfully for the simple reason that there is no concealing the truth from either of you.
Army Chaplain Jim Higgins
Just received the MFUMC newsletter where I saw memorials given for Tug. This breaks my heart. I enjoyed getting to know him, and getting reacquainted after coming back from Iraq. Tug was a true gentleman and quite humble. I remember driving with him to one of his treatments in Covington back in 05, what a gift. I was leading a marriage retreat in FL for returning Soldiers and their spouses when I finished reading Tommy Franks biography. In his afterward he talked about his best bosses and included Tug. I told him about it when I next saw him and in true Tug style he said, "We all knew Tommy was going places, he was very gifted". Typical Tug to focus on the positive gifts of others.
My prayers to Judy and the family...
Rest easy Tug.
CH Jim Higgins
Jim Higgins
March 15, 2014 | Martinez, GA
By—Lawrence S. Pertillar
Soldier
Soldier
Soldier,
I know you Soldier.
Your brave exterior
Conceals a heart that cares.
Your instinct to protect,
Goes beyond what's expected.
And your willingness to die...
Hides tears inside alone you cry!
Soldier
Soldier,
Spit shined and processed.
With nerves of steel,
In fields to deflect with precision and defend.
No one but your comrades feel...
Those bold stances taken until the end.
My heart is shakened by your zeal!
And if your footsteps should leave prints
In pools of splattered blood,
It uncovers a fear you may smother...
And we back and cheer you, Soldier!
Soldier?
Soldier...
I know you Soldier!
So proud I am to know you like I do!
So aware I am of you, Soldier.
Sacrifices you make...
Elevates my thoughts of you!
Tug was born in Colon, Panama on February 2, 1928. He was a 1950 graduate of the United States Military Academy at West Point and a US Army Veteran retiring as a highly decorated Infantry Officer after 31 years of service. In 1981 he moved to Kiawah Island, SC, where he was one of the founders of the Kiawah Island Property Owners Group. Tug was actively involved in the Milledgeville community since 2000 when he married Judith Lacksen. He was a member of the Sacred Heart Catholic Church choir and past president of the Milledgeville Kiwanis Club, as well as the Old Capitol MOAA. Tug spoke frequently to community groups about foreign policy and defense issues. He enjoyed his grandchildren, golf and serving as a Grandfather Reader in the public schools.
He is survived by his wife Judith "Flo" Greer of Milledgeville, daughters Kathleen (Billy) Windham of Tobaccoville, NC and Margaret (John) Mann of Matthews, NC, son Timothy M. Greer of Columbia, SC, grandchildren Matthew (Nikki) Windham of Raleigh, NC, Jennifer (Jon) Hooks of Cary, NC, Allison Jaslow of Washington, DC., Lauren Jaslow of New York City, NY and Caitlin Jaslow of Arlington, VA. Two sisters also survive: Gene Plante of Providence, RI and Rebecca Greer of Chatham, NY.
He was preceded in death by his parents Brigadier General Frank Upton Greer and May Mann Greer, a son, Thomas Upton Greer, Jr., wife, Patty Greer, and brothers Colonel Charles Francis Greer and Frank Upton Greer, III.
A funeral mass will be said Friday, February 28, 2014 at 11:00 am at Sacred Heart Catholic Church and a memorial service will be held at 3:00 pm at the Milledgeville First United Methodist Church.
In lieu of flowers, the family requests that memorial contributions be made to either Sacred Heart Catholic Church, Milledgeville First United Methodist Church or The National Infantry Museum , 1775 Legacy Way Columbus, Georgia 31903.
http://www.nationalinfantrymuseum.org/
Our Grandfather's Obituary – My Version
BY JENNYHOOKS ON FEBRUARY 22, 2014
So…I've decided to write my own version:
Our grandfather, Major General (Ret.) Thomas U. Greer, passed away at his home on February 21st at the age of 86. Surrounded by his wife and daughters, he left this world to see what's waiting for him in the next.
See, the fact that he was a West Point Graduate, a highly decorated 31 year veteran of the US Army, an active member of his community, and a true man of God…Those things speak for themselves. They will be reflected in his legacy – and remembered by everyone that had the honor of knowing him. This is the stuff that makes it to an obituary – and (probably for good reason), no one asked me to weigh in on this.
Major General Thomas U. "Pops" Greer (Ret), took his final nap on Friday, February 21st. He woke up shortly after in his recliner in Heaven.
A lover of all animals (except squirrels), Pops would routinely show his grandchildren the wonders of nature from the banks of a Kiawah Island lagoon, or the backseat of a 1986 Oldsmobile Calais. Seemingly the Dr. Doolittle of the Low Country, alligators Big George, Gaylord, Little Louis and Baby Jay would routinely pop up out of the murky waters to say hello. (Sidenote: They wanted to publicly apologize for their friend that bit him on the golf course that day). Ducklings Dipper and Diver would entertain him for hours with their antics, and the local deer, racoon and opossums would come out at night to wave hello to Pops and his friends.
31 years in the US Army are bound to leave their mark on a man, and this was frequently exhibited by Pops' staunch opposition to wearing ball caps in the house and elbows on the table. As a devout Catholic, Mass was a place for worship and never, ever, ever, ever for giggling uncontrollably while he was singing. Although we have yet to find the passage in the Bible, let it be known that it is absolutely forbidden to spoil the outcome of a Redskins game that was previously recorded. He also knew that the character of a person was based on what is on the inside, and would be all but oblivious to external appearances. This was made evident by his complete lack of acknowledgement when one granddaughter took scissors to the hair of another while he was asleep in his chair. (Sorry, Allie.) This oblivion did not, however, translate to showing up with a piercing or tattoo.
A little known fact about Pops (AKA Tug) is his refined palate. A bowl of Raisin Bran was not complete without a sprinkle of Grape Nuts, nor was a turkey sandwich worth eating without the perfect portion of plain Lays potato chips to accompany. Even suggesting that ice cream flavors other than Neapolitan or French Vanilla existed would blow his mind. When confronted with cultural cuisine (i.e. Mexican), he would showcase his refined knowledge by interchanging commonly known words like "tortilla" with lesser known words like "serape".
Always good for a story, his favorite one to tell was about Little Suzie. Poor Little Suzie. While the story was different every time, his grandchildren would always walk away with the same perspective: Why, oh why, did Little Suzie always end up chasing her ball down that hill? Didn't she know that there would be an elephant, lion, tiger, other large animal just waiting for her? Luckily the predators Suzie encountered were always extremely gentle and in need of her help…to remove a thorn from a paw or to help find their way home. I'd say Suzie dodged multiple bullets…all for the love of her red bouncy ball.
Today, and every day, any child that ever knew Pops will see a little bit of magic in the smallest things. A book, a golf ball retriever, a silly joke, a deer, an ocean wave, a garage door opener. Those that were lucky enough to spend time with him will know that there's always room for a funny face or a silly song. We're all still hoping we never fall out of a window and sprain our eyebrow on the pavement.
Pops' legacy is not that of a Two-Star General, but that of a Five-Star Grandfather.
I wish I could have seen his face when he got to The Pearly Gates. I know that St. Peter sneakily reached for a hidden button, said "Open Sesame", and the gates opened to welcome him home.
melissa@joyineveryseason says:
FEBRUARY 22, 2014 AT 9:35 PM
best obituary ever! prayers and hugs for your family ♥
Reply
Dan Braughton says:
FEBRUARY 23, 2014 AT 8:57 AM
I now have a connection with Gen. Greer beyond love of God and Country… Grape Nuts in my cereal. He's dead on right about that.
Reply
Janet ligon says:
FEBRUARY 23, 2014 AT 3:25 AM
What a beautiful heartfelt, obituary.
Reply
Becky Morgan says:
FEBRUARY 23, 2014 AT 4:19 AM
Absolutely the greatest obituary I've ever read. Bless your family at this difficult time. A sense of humor goes a long way in healing from a loss.
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Chris Brindamour says:
FEBRUARY 23, 2014 AT 8:51 AM
WOW….that is awesome Jenny! You nailed it! While I didn't get to spend much time with "Uncle TUG" I do have a lot a fond memories of him as I do all of the "Greers".
By the way, in case you don't know or remember me…have we met? There are so many of us, and family is HUGE in our family. I am Nana "Gene's" oldest grandson, son of Maryanne & Peter, we are the Rhode Island part of the family. I don't know about you, but I always end up asking my mother or grandmother, now who do they belong to??
My biggest memory of "Pops or Uncle TUG", and I don't even know what you call this. It was a little game that he would play. He would twist he ear and his tongue would come out, then he would push his nose and it would start wagging his tongue and he made a "na..na..na" sound. Then he would push his nose to stop his tongue, then twist his other ear to make it go back in.
He also taught us that FAMILY is the most important thing in life.
Rest is peace Uncle TUG, I am sure you have everyone in heaven laughing!
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Tina McLure says:
FEBRUARY 23, 2014 AT 1:25 PM
Loved it Jenny and I know he has a big smile on his face that you remembered all the little things that count the most. Proud of you. ❤
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Jackie (Johnson) Dyas says:
FEBRUARY 23, 2014 AT 4:11 PM
Precious words about a precious man. Much love to all of the Greer's and the extended family. Love you Maggie. Thinking of you often these days. Jackie
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Tom Rozman says:
MARCH 26, 2019 AT 9:31 PM
I was Pops' aide-de-camp in the 2nd Infantry Division in Korea, a very great privilege. He was a brigadier general then and i a 1st lieutenant and we had the professional relationship that situation entailed…and a very good one. But your personal obituary of the general captures an aspect of him that was always just under the surface. Thank you for writing it, it brought him back in a delightful way. I last saw him on my way to New England from Ft. Benning when he was at Ft. Dix. We had a great visit.
Lieutenant Colonel (Ret) Thom Rozman
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jennyhooks says:
APRIL 5, 2019 AT 8:15 PM
Tom – my apologies that it's taken me this long to reply. I love connecting with people that knew Pops, and am so glad that this post helped you remember and reflect on your relationship with him. I know he'd be proud that you remember him so fondly.
Reply
////////////////////////////////////From CWO3 Bob Rainbolt, A.K.A., Son-Inlaw of Nanna Plante///////
From Bob Rainbolt (Son-In-Law of Tugs sister, Mary "Gene" McCaskey Plante)
Jenny Hooks, Tugs granddaughter, wrote a most beautiful tribute above. I was glad to have known Tug and served with him in Hawaii in 1975-77. He was a great soldier, a "BY the book" General" that ultimately saved a lot of lives. His training and experiences , especially during Korea, taught hom to always be trained and prepared to fight. This concept saved lives of his soldiers in Vietnam.
It was a great honor and a highlight of my Army career to have had the opportunity to be at a luncheon with and in the honor of General of the Army, Five Star General Omar Bradley. Tug, the commanding General of United States Army Command Hawaii was in attendance and it was awesome to be there with him also. I kept saying to myself, that is General Bradley, I could not believe it, but it was true, I was right in front of his table staring right at this legend. This was in October 1976. General Bradley was in a wheel chair with an aide (Lieutenant Colonel) looking after him. General Bradley talked a lot about General Patton. Tug was honored and excited to be present also since his Dad, BG Greer had served under Eisenhower and Bradley. TUG had told his own chief of staff to monitor the days itinerary/ agenda and coordinate with General Bradleys staff to ensure everything was done right and especially be aware of any special needs of General Bradley and his staff. My mother in law (Tugs sister) had a picture of BG Greer with General Eisenhower she had shown me once. I would love to get my hands on it now to make a copy. I have the only known copy of General Bradley signing into Quad C Dining Facility at Schofield Barracks that day. The Mess sergeant kept the original and said he would not make any other copies except one I received. I find it awesome, he signed his signature, rank of General of The Army, Grade 0-11. I love it!!!!
The following is a Devotional or Speech given at
Brigham Young University-Hawaii
July 31, 2012
BY: Elder Lance B. Wickman
General Counsel and Emeritus General Authority
What a delight it is to be with you today on this beautiful campus in this idyllic setting! I have been reflecting that it is now more than 47 years since my bride Pat and I first set foot on this campus. Forty-seven years—nearly a half-century! To you students, I must seem like the proverbial "Ancient of Days," and perhaps I am. But in my mind's eye, as I look upon this familiar setting and smell again the fragrance of island flowers, it seems but yesterday.
We were newlyweds. Our marriage covenants, solemnized in the Los Angeles Temple, were not a year and a half old. But we came here neither as honeymooners nor as students. I was an Army officer—a lieutenant of infantry. Having only just completed the Army's Ranger course, I was assigned as a rifle platoon leader in an infantry battalion of the 25th Infantry Division, stationed at Schofield Barracks. We had rented a small duplex apartment on the beach, literally, on the beach, at Waialua.
In those days, there were only four stakes on the island. Our stake was the Oahu Stake, which included all of northern Oahu, and the stake center was just across the street from where we are seated today. The Polynesian Cultural Center was scarcely two years old and decidedly smaller and less imposing in its presentation and stature than it is today. Laie itself was a sleepy community tucked away here on the northeast shore of Oahu and seemed to be in a time warp—light years from the distant "big city" of Honolulu. And the university? Well, there was no "university," as such. It was a mere "college"—the Church College of Hawaii, as it was then known.
To us, arriving early on a Sunday morning in the Honolulu harbor by ocean liner, courtesy of the U.S. Government, it seemed as though we had arrived in paradise! The balmy, fragrant trade winds, the gently waving palm trees, the glistening ocean and white, sandy beaches, and the languid pace of island life made us feel as if we truly had "died and gone to heaven." Even Schofield Barracks, where my battalion was based, was picturesque with its broad green parade grounds, palm trees and flowers and stuccoed and tiled quadrangles. It seemed to be a movie set straight out of the film From Here to Eternity, which, of course, it was! Then, finding that North Shore duplex with a sliding glass door that opened out onto the beach made our idyll complete. We anticipated a three-year tour of duty in the Garden of Eden amidst the sun, sand, surf and blue sky.
How wrong we were. My anticipated "three years in Eden" turned out to be much shorter, a charming prelude to a tour of duty in the Inferno. Our battalion shipped out to Vietnam six months after our arrival and my sweetheart was left here by herself. Our dream was shattered, our future fraught with uncertainty. Ten months after that departure I was returned here to Tripler Army Hospital for surgery and convalescence for wounds received in combat. What had begun as a tour of duty in "paradise" became one of the most trying seasons of our lives.
But if it was trying, it was also defining. As I wander my hall of memories today, and when I think of the dark shadows through which we passed in that challenging season of our lives, it is not the beach and the palm trees that come first to mind. It is not the "picture postcard" Hawaii that we thought we would experience when we stepped off the ship a near half-century ago.
Rather, it is the Koolau Mountains, those rugged, volcanic green peaks that run down the spine of Oahu and that are situated a stone's throw behind this campus, that come to mind. Those steep ridgelines were to become for me a training ground that has profoundly influenced my entire life. It is an experience in the Koolaus that captures the message I wish to leave with you. I have entitled this address, The Parable of the Foxholes.
In October of that year, 1965, just a few months after our arrival, our battalion received a new commander, Lieutenant Colonel Thomas U. Greer– "Tug" Greer, as his peers called him. Tug Greer was a graduate of the United States Military Academy at West Point, Class of 1951. In 1951, the Korean War was raging. Most of the West Point class that year was assigned immediately to the combat zone. Many of Tug Greer's classmates died on the rugged slopes of that land. But Tug had survived and remained in the Army. And now, 14 years later, he was assigned to command our battalion.
No sooner did he assume command, than Col. Greer took the battalion on a week-long training exercise in the Kahuku Training Area at the northern end of the Koolau Mountains. The Army still maintains a training area there. As many of you know, the Koolaus are made up of steep slopes of volcanic rock with little topsoil and covered with thick, green vegetation. For five days, we struggled up and down those slopes in one infantry maneuver after another. Finally, it was Saturday morning, the last day of the exercise. All of us looked forward to returning early to our battalion headquarters, turning in our equipment and hitting the beach. After all, we were young, and what was the point of being stationed here in Hawaii if you could not go to the beach! You know what I mean! I remember gazing down early that morning from my perch on the side of one of those steep ridgelines at the shimmering sand and sparkling ocean. Below me I could see green pasture land with cows peacefully grazing. Beyond the pasture ran the black ribbon of Kam Highway that circles the island. And beyond the highway lay the white sands of the beach and the ocean gleaming like a sapphire. I could hardly wait!
About that time, my reverie was interrupted as Col. Greer came to our rifle company's position. To our company commander, Captain Jim Andrus, he said, "As the last exercise of this training, I would like Charlie Company, that was us– "C" Company, to establish defensive positions." Now, among other things, establishing defensive positions meant digging foxholes. You know what a foxhole is. It is a hole in the ground where a soldier can seek shelter from enemy fire. But this was volcanic rock! And we were only equipped with those little folding shovels which the Army calls "entrenching tools." So, as Capt. Andrus gathered us platoon leaders around to give us the orders for establishing defensive positions, he said, "Since we want to get this over with quickly, we won't actually dig foxholes. Instead, we will simply do 'simulated foxholes'– we will just mark out on the ground where we would put the foxholes."
So, that is what we did. A little while later, Col. Greer came around to inspect our "defensive positions." I remember it like it was yesterday! As he came to the first of these "simulated foxholes," he asked Capt. Andrus, "What are those?" Clearing his throat a little nervously, Capt. Andrus responded, "Well, sir, those are simulated foxholes." "Simulated foxholes!!" roared Col. Greer, and then he said a few other things. "I ordered this company to prepare defensive positions, and that means digging foxholes! This company is going to stay out here and dig until it learns how to dig foxholes that look like they came out of the training manual!" And so, as the rest of the battalion packed up weapons and equipment and headed back to the base and an afternoon at the beach, Charlie Company remained out on that hillside. And we dug, and we dug, and we dug. Col. Greer's name was on everyone's lips that afternoon, and I can tell you that he was not winning any popularity contests that day! I seem to recall that there was even some speculation on his genealogy! But by evening, we had foxholes that really looked just like they came out of the training manual.
However, you see, there was something that we did not know that beautiful Hawaiian Saturday. When Col. Greer had been given his orders assigning him as our battalion commander, he had also received some other orders that he could not share with us– top secret orders, orders sending our battalion to Vietnam. We did not know it at the time, but this would be our last training exercise. And Col. Tug Greer, with his vivid memories of his fallen classmates on the rugged hillsides of Korea was determined to do all that he could to preserve the lives of those men entrusted to his care. That training exercise up into the rugged Koolaus was the moment, the final moment, for polishing those combat skills that could save our lives—even including something as pedestrian as digging a proper foxhole. Vietnam would be too late.
A few weeks later the battalion deployed to Vietnam. Upon arrival, it reached the spot in the division's defensive perimeter assigned to us late in an afternoon. Col. Greer's order again went out: "Establish defensive positions." Our men dug in because that is what you did in Tug Greer's battalion. Another battalion next to ours, arriving at the same time, only scooped out some shallow cavities in the ground, not unlike our Hawaiian "simulated foxholes," planning to dig real foxholes the next day. But that night, the Viet Cong enemy launched a ferocious mortar barrage into the green troops. Our men were safe and secure in their foxholes, but the men of that neighboring battalion were not so fortunate. The next morning Tug Greer's name was again on everyone's lips—but this time with reverence and respect. I still regard him as one of the great men I have known. From him I learned one of life's most powerful lessons: There is indeed a "time for every purpose under heaven"—even a time to learn to dig a foxhole. Thus, is the Parable of the Foxholes.
Like most parables, the "Parable of the Foxholes" has multiple teachings. But today I draw upon it for just one of them. The Parable of the Foxholes teaches the truth of the timeless maxim: "When the time for performance is present, the time for preparation is past." While that teaching is relevant to us all, it has particular application to you, my young friends, who are in life's springtime– nature's season for planting and preparation. And so I would like to ask each of you– rhetorically, but personally– three basic questions about the state of your own preparation, as though you were on the witness stand in a court of law. No one will know your answers except you and the Lord. But then, you are the only ones that matter anyhow. You must answer truthfully for the simple reason that there is no concealing the truth from either of you.
Army Chaplain Jim Higgins
Just received the MFUMC newsletter where I saw memorials given for Tug. This breaks my heart. I enjoyed getting to know him, and getting reacquainted after coming back from Iraq. Tug was a true gentleman and quite humble. I remember driving with him to one of his treatments in Covington back in 05, what a gift. I was leading a marriage retreat in FL for returning Soldiers and their spouses when I finished reading Tommy Franks biography. In his afterward he talked about his best bosses and included Tug. I told him about it when I next saw him and in true Tug style he said, "We all knew Tommy was going places, he was very gifted". Typical Tug to focus on the positive gifts of others.
My prayers to Judy and the family...
Rest easy Tug.
CH Jim Higgins
Jim Higgins
March 15, 2014 | Martinez, GA
By—Lawrence S. Pertillar
Soldier
Soldier
Soldier,
I know you Soldier.
Your brave exterior
Conceals a heart that cares.
Your instinct to protect,
Goes beyond what's expected.
And your willingness to die...
Hides tears inside alone you cry!
Soldier
Soldier,
Spit shined and processed.
With nerves of steel,
In fields to deflect with precision and defend.
No one but your comrades feel...
Those bold stances taken until the end.
My heart is shakened by your zeal!
And if your footsteps should leave prints
In pools of splattered blood,
It uncovers a fear you may smother...
And we back and cheer you, Soldier!
Soldier?
Soldier...
I know you Soldier!
So proud I am to know you like I do!
So aware I am of you, Soldier.
Sacrifices you make...
Elevates my thoughts of you!
