Issue Date: November 25, 2007

In this article: Roger Staubach remembers Memories classes of 1943-1994 Army-Navy Game Facts

Army vs. Navy

More than just a game: Discover the deep meaning of this unique rivalry with these touching moments told by those who have served.

During the Army-Navy game, students face off in the nation's greatest rivalry. But in times of war, they are brothers and sisters. As much as each team wants to win this

Patriots' Game: Today they play. Tomorrow they serve. These memories of football field and battlefield will make this year's Dec. 1 matchup all the more meaningful. For more game stories, go armytimes.com and navytimes.com.

football game, both always know they'll be called to serve together. To celebrate this tradition, USA WEEKEND, working with Army Times and Navy Times, asked for and received hundreds of e-mails from men and women who attended the service academies, recalling stories that are funny, sentimental, poignant and proud. (For more, go to armytimes.com and navytimes.com.) In the end, whether the narratives are about football or war, they speak to a rich legacy of honor, sacrifice and freedom.


A Win for a Fallen Leader
Roger Staubach
Navy Class of 1965
Executive chairman, The Stauback Company

In 1962, when I played quarterback for Navy, I was privileged to meet President Kennedy. He was supposed to be impartial. But we knew, given that he was a Navy hero on PT 109 -- and with a sly wink he gave to me and my teammates - he wanted us to win. And we did indeed win.

The next year, on the Friday before the game, we were told in thermodynamics class that our president was dead. We heard that the game would be canceled. We were all in mourning, as was the nation, so this seemed like the sensible thing to do. Then, the Kennedy family asked that we play the game in his memory, a week after it was originally scheduled.

The game turned out to be one of the all-time classics. In the second half, we went up 21-7, but Army scored a touchdown, made good on a two-point conversion, then kept possession on an onside kick. They were driving again but simply ran out of time. We won, 21-15.

We knew that many men on the field -- on both sides of the ball -- would soon be in Vietnam. I served over there on a logistics unit. One of my offensive linemen, Tommy Holden, was a Marine who was shot and killed. Today, when I see a teammate, we embrace, knowing what we went through together in football and where we ended up shortly after.

Friends Never Forgotten
Pat Mangin
Annville, Pa.
Army Class of 1990

I played on the Army teams from 1986 to 1989. My best memory? During my last game, CBS caught me on camera butting helmets with my best friend. My other close friend, Ken Nadermann, didn't play football, but he was in the same F4 Fighting Frogs Company with me. We got through all four years together, and it wasn't easy. We started with 35 Frogs. In the end, about 20 graduated.

Ken served in Desert Storm, and by 1994, we found out that he had amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, also known as ALS, or Lou Gehrigs disease. Today, a number of the Frogs and I make it a tradition to watch the Army-Navy game with him at his home in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. He can't

He starts preparing for the game about eight weeks in advance, you should see his house, with Army paraphernalia, chow, sodas and beer.

talk to us anymore. His nurses read his lips for us. But he starts preparing for the game about eight weeks in advance, and you should see his house when hes done, all decked out with Army paraphernalia and chow, sodas and beer.

Last year, I got back from Iraq in November and went directly to Cedar Rapids so I could watch with Ken and the guys. My wife and 7-year-old son, Clay, actually got tickets to the game, so they were sending us cellphone images live from there. Thats right: I went to Cedar Rapids before I saw my family, after being gone for 16 months. Thats how important this tradition is.

Im now stationed in Pennsylvania, and I'll be close to the stadium in Baltimore. So Ken had his nurse call me a while back, and he mouthed these words: "Tell Pat that I want him at the game this year with his wife and son." He knows my son loves Army football. But I wouldn't hear of it.

I said to him, "No way, dude. Not until you're gone. Then I'll get a sideline pass, look up at the sky during the flyover and think of you."

Part of a Team Forever
Rob "Blitz" Krieg
Gainesville, Mo.
Army Class of 1994

I'm serving in Iraq, but I'm never far from West Point. I loved football, but at 5-foot-4 and 128 pounds, my best way to contribute was as a team manager. That's when I got my nickname, "Blitz Krieg," from Coach Jack Hecker.

I'll never forget the thrill in my mother's voice when she saw me on TV.

During my first season, my mother got leukemia. The team provided endless support. I'll never forget the thrill in her voice that year when she saw me on TV on the sidelines during an Army victory over Navy. After she died, I attended a local college while I helped my dad deal with his loss. I returned to West Point in January 1992.

During spring football training in 1993, coaches summoned me to the training room, where I was told that my dad died unexpectedly. Without my asking, my coaches and teammates took care of everything for me, making all arrangements for emergency leave. A fellow team manager put a wad of cash in my hand, knowing that I may need it. I returned to West Point and stood on the sidelines for two more wins over Navy. I no longer had a mother or a father, but I had a home with Army football.


A New Tradition
Melanie V. Doherty
Newberrytown, Pa
Navy Class of 1984

Growing up, my family always watched the game over my aunt's chili and pumpkin pie. When I

Once we left the stadium, we planned to make it a tradition.

was in junior high, my family visited Navy, and I asked an officer about attending. "Little girls don't go here," he told me. But the next year, the first class with women entered. Then I was accepted. Being at my first Army-Navy game was thrilling. I realized that I was part of something much bigger than me. I never made it to a game after graduation until last year. My two kids, now ages 6 and 8, had always watched it on TV and loved the "commercials," when they'd show deployed men and women from places around the world. Seeing it live was even better. Once we left the stadium, the kids asked, "Can we do this again?" We planned to make it a tradition.

Our tradition will have to wait. I was recently mobilized and sent to Kuwait. My children understand that it is my time to serve. I can only hope that, when they're watching, I'll show up on one of those "commercials," so we can be together in spirit.

Brothers in Arms
Darryl L. Mobley
Austin
Army Class of 1978

In 1974, I was a rail-thin plebe from rural Florida, the grandson of a sharecropper and honored to be entering West Point. I wasn't the least bit intimidated. I felt empowered. I was the product and dream of millions of other African-Americans who didn't have the chance to do what I was doing and attend a service academy. I stood on their shoulders, fueled by their pride and courage.

This was especially true when it came time to perform our walk-on during the Army-Navy game that year, my first ever. As we finished and left the field, we got close to the plebes from Annapolis who were also on the field and attempted to out-cheer them. Our side got louder. Then their side got louder. Suddenly, the crowds spilled into each other and an impromptu mass wrestling match took hold.

I was the product and dream of millions of other African-Americans.

Grown-ups tried to break it up, so we sprinted away to the sides of the field to avoid what would certainly be a stiff punishment. Before I ran away in a sea of Army gray, I locked eyes with the Annapolis plebe who I was wrestling with. We ran toward each other and embraced, then, as if this tradition were an instinctive reflex, I took off one of my cuff links. And he took off one of his. We exchanged them, shook hands and then sprinted for safety. I never knew his name. I never even saw him again.

After graduation, I served in military intelligence for five years, and then, as a private citizen and entrepreneur, I founded "Family Digest Magazine." But Army experiences like that one will remain with me for my whole life. During every Army-Navy game, I have worn my West Point cuff link on one wrist and that Annapolis plebe's on the other.

A Legacy of Service
J.W. "Bill" Sheehan
Waterford, Conn.
Navy Class of 1963

Michael J. Soth and I were high school classmates at Pomona Catholic in California. We were friendly rivals, and he ended up at West Point, and I went to the Naval Academy. We corresponded the entire time. There's a tradition that first-year plebes at both academies exchange cuff links during the game weekend, so we did that. After graduation, I served on a submarine in the waters off Vietnam. Mike learned Vietnamese and served as an adviser to the South Vietnam army. We continued to correspond. One time, he wrote about the strong quality of Vietnamese men he worked with. Shortly after writing, he was killed in action.

I wanted his nephew to know about the uncle he never met.

I stayed in touch with his family. His twin brother, Marty, had a son and named him Michael. When Michael graduated from high school, I sent him that last letter. I wanted him to know about the uncle he never met. I still wear his cuff link, along with mine.



Never Out of Uniform
John Reed
Alamo, Calif.
Army Class of 1968

When we were seniors, my classmate and I stayed at my mom's house near Philadelphia and then visited my uncle just before the game. After we left, my uncle discovered that my friend had left his black leather gloves behind. The gloves were part of the uniform, and you could not be seen without them.

Gloves were part of the uniform; you could not be seen without them.

My uncle raced to the stadium. When he found my friend outside the stadium, getting ready in formation to march inside, he gave him the gloves. But not before observing my friend's "backup" plan: He was wearing black socks on his hands instead of on his feet! He had figured that no one would ever notice.



Switching Sides for Sportsmanship
Ben Colmery
Tallahassee, Fla.
Navy Class of 1943

As "cadets," we shouted Army cheers and sang Army songs.

In 1942, America fought a two-front war, and transportation was strained. No trains or buses could carry spectators to games. Navy was the home team in Annapolis. West Point sent its team, but no rooting section. The Navy decided it would be sportsmanlike to balance the cheering, so two battalions were designated as "Army cadets." I was in one of those battalions. We gave Army cheers and sang Army songs all through the game. On game day, after the national anthem, we actually yelled "Beat Navy!"

I then served on a destroyer fighting Japan. Fast-forward to now, in Tallahassee, Fla., where I retired. There have been both West Point and Annapolis graduates here, and for years we watched the games together. In fact, the West Point crowd was astonished at how well I knew their cheers!