Duty, Honor, Country

In my early twenties, I was brainwashed. And it was the best thing that could have happened to me at that time in my life.

In those days, even though I was legally an adult, my value system was still a work in progress. I didn’t stand for anything. Not yet. But by the time I was twenty-four, I had developed a solid value system, one that has stood the test of time. I hope something like that happened for you. For me, it happened like this:

After graduating from high school, for lack of any other career direction, I joined the Army. My father was an Army sergeant, so, I guess I just blindly followed his example. But Dad had put a bigger idea in my head about my future. Wisely, he didn’t push…merely suggested, “Son, have you thought about going to West Point?”

No, l hadn’t thought about West Point, but the idea rattled around in the back of my mind for the next couple of years while I was learning to be a soldier. I did well at it, making the rank of sergeant early, at the age of nineteen. A bit later, approaching my twenty-first birthday, I applied to, and wonder of wonders, was accepted to West Point.

But I don’t want to tell you my life story, I want to tell you about the West Point motto, “Duty, Honor, Country,” how that motto came to form the foundation of my value system, and (the real purpose for writing this article) to tell you why I think a value system that is bigger than the self resonates so deeply with the human soul.

First: Honor. West Point has an honor code, and it’s this: A cadet does not lie, cheat, or steal or tolerate those who do. They’re serious about it. In my day, one instance of lying, cheating, or stealing—just one, no matter how trivial—got you kicked out. How trivial? At the end of our written tests, the instructors would announce, “Cease work,” at which point we had to stop writing and put our pencils down. And when they said stop, they meant stop NOW. If you continued writing, even to finish a partly written word, even for a second, it was considered a form of cheating, and you could be expelled for it. Yes, expelled. We took the honor code that seriously.

That was okay with me. They had told us in advance and in detail about the honor code. They gave us time to think about it. They gave us the opportunity to opt out and go somewhere else with no stain on our records. And they told us that they were dead serious about it. Somehow the honor code resonated with me. It seemed right. It seemed…honorable.

Next: Duty. Duty to me means commitment. More than that, it means commitment to something or someone other than myself. Up to that point in my life, I hadn’t felt a genuine sense of commitment to anything. Not really. Duty is subtle because a true sense of duty is a heart commitment, not just an obligation. West Pointers learn duty through living it, and, more subtly, through tradition. For four years we study military history—the big battles and the historic leaders. The lessons of duty, of commitment, soak in almost unconsciously, but soak in they do. 

Because commitment means so much to me, I don’t commit easily, but when I do, I do my absolute best to deliver the goods. 

And finally: Country. I don’t want to get mawkish, but I love our country. If it hadn’t been for good fortune, I might have born in any country, but I lucked out. I was born American. If that seems jingoistic, no, it’s just deep gratitude. Despite all of its flaws, I truly do love my country.

I was there, sitting just a few feet from him, when General MacArthur made his farewell speech to the Corps of Cadets in 1963, not long before he died. His speech was all about duty, honor, and country. The air around him vibrated with his intensity. MacArthur was an arrogant, self-centered s.o.b., but he lived true to his understanding of Duty, Honor, Country. So much so that he was fired by the president of the United States, Harry Truman, when his beliefs—his values—clashed with those of his boss. I agree with Truman’s decision, but I respect MacArthur’s dedication and values. His speech crystalized for us cadets the heart commitment to Duty, Honor, Country that he had made, and which we were being asked to make.

Duty, Honor, Country works for me, but it doesn’t work for everyone. Nor should it. For instance, Mother Theresa’s value system had nothing to do with duty, or honor, or country, but had everything to do with service to humanity. Bill Gates made a lot of money, but his value system is revealed in what he and Melinda do with their wealth, which is service to humanity of a different sort than motivated Mother Theresa. On the other hand, most politicians, whom we trust to have value systems that contribute to the welfare of the nation, reveal by their actions that they are really self-serving, doing what’s best for them, not us. The occasional true statesman surprises us.

Do you have a value system that shapes you? Do you have a Duty, Honor, Country of your own that guides you through life, one that tells you what’s right and wrong, and one that keeps you on course even when temptations, fears, and the pressure of friends, family, and community push against you? 

If you haven’t thought about it, maybe you should. 

I said earlier that “…a value system that is bigger than the self resonates deeply with the human soul.” Why am I so sure of that? Part of my belief derives from my own experiences and those of others with backgrounds like mine. But that’s just a narrow slice of humanity. Maybe we’re just a bit weird—outliers, so to speak. 

But no. West Pointers aren’t outliers. Our paths led us to Duty, Honor, Country, but yours may lead you in other directions…different, but equally compelling. Or you may not yet have fully shaped your value system, but simply complied with the values imposed by our culture and the pressures of current events. But “compliance” isn’t a value system. It’s merely acquiescence. That’s what political correctness, party loyalty, blind obedience, and other forms of going-along-to-get-along are all about.

I’ve been a bit preachy in this column, but I don’t apologize for it. A value system that resonates with your deepest self is a blessing. It holds you steady in the face of pressure, threat, uncertainty, and fear. It gives leaders the motivation to resist expediency and take right action…something only a few of our elected leaders seem able to do. And maybe most valuable of all, it gives each of us an ineradicable sense of self, of right and wrong, and of the direction we want our lives to take.

Duty, Honor, Country does it for me; what does it for you?