Remarks, Retirement Ceremony, 9 January 1999

Thank you, sir. I shall be brief.

I would like to share with you an explanation, one lesson learned, and many thanks.

An explanation: why I served.

I grew up in a small town, Rennerdale, a few miles west of Pittsburgh. On the hilltop above Rennerdale was a Nike missile site. A huge radar rotated and whined 24-hours-a-day above the little town. When I was a small boy, about 4 years old, I guess, I asked my Dad, what was the Nike site for? My Dad explained that there were these people, the Russians, who might bomb Pittsburgh, and the Nike site was for shooting down their airplanes before they dropped the bomb. Well, this astounded me. Pittsburgh was a huge city, the source of unlimited comic books, and candy that you could buy by the pound. I couldn’t imagine who would be so bad that they would want to destroy Pittsburgh.

I was throughout my childhood and youth a constant reader. Before I graduated from high school, I had read The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich, On Thermonuclear War, Mein Kampf, Treblinka, and much of Solzhenisten, including Gulag Archipelago I, II, and III. All this, before I was 18. And so, at least intellectually, I understood something about the nature of organized evil, and I was convinced that Communism was evil and must be opposed. {Giggles from audience.}

And so I did. {Audience chortles.}

And you can see what happened. {Audience laughs.}

But I knew that alone I was insignificant and powerless. It was only by subordinating my individual self for a time, only by joining a team far larger than myself could I hope to contribute to the fight. My own contribution was tiny, almost insignificant, but the contribution of the team was immense. We contained the Soviet Union until it collapsed from its internal contradictions and flaws. We won the Cold War, in the shadow of which I was born and raised.

Two other reasons bear mentioning. Growing up in the hills of Appalachia, I was astounded the first time I saw the ocean, a horizon so distant, so flat and boundless. My father told me, oh yeah sure, that’s the Atlantic, and you can sail for weeks and not get to the other end, but I crossed it on a Navy ship and went to France. Ever since then, I loved the sea and wanted to go to the sea in the worst way. And so I did . . . {audience laughs.}

And in the Navy, I’ve put the world in my wake twice over, and seen the Mediterranean white like milk in pre-dawn fog, I’ve seen the Arctic in gale, and the South China Sea in typhoon. Two and a half years of the past twenty, I lived in a ship at sea, and looking back, I believe those were the best years of my service.

The other reason is that as a constant reader and a writer, I was lucky enough to find a profession, intelligence work, where I could earn a living, mainly by reading and writing. It’s a magnificent profession, and I was lucky enough to see it practiced by some of the best.

Which brings me to my lesson learned.

I was able to run this course mainly under my own power, and with the help of my family and a few understanding and forgiving leaders. But twice in my military career, I found that I could go no further. I was too tired. I couldn’t do it anymore. Both times, I got down on my knees and I prayed for the spiritual gift of strength. Both times, when I rose to my feet, I found that I had the strength to go on. So, if ever in your life, you arrive at the end, and you know you can’t go any further on your own, then pray for the spiritual gift of strength.

Which leads me to my thanks. I am forever indebted to CDR Lou Foltzer, USN, retired, for his help, and for showing me that a person can serve 20 years, and come out the other side of the experience, still his unique self. I thank Captain Wayne Perras and Captain Phil Midland, USN, retired, for showing me how it’s done at the front of the pack. I and my family owe our great thanks to Vice Admiral Mike McConnell, USN, retired, for being our sea daddy. I thank Captain Bob Hubbard, USN, for being a great boss, a wonderful shipmate, and a good friend. I thank Intelligence Specialist Chief Sams, and all the NCOs who checked my work, kept me out of trouble, and made the successes happen. If you give them enough time, space and materials, there is nothing that the USN blue jacket cannot accomplish. It has been an honor to serve with you all.

I thank all the planners who made the deputy directorate a success: LCDR Baker, JoAnne Chiari, Major Crow, Major Digiulio, Major Harder, LCDR Higginson, CDR Kovel, Major Langley-Jones, Major Levinson, Major Mastin, Captain Morris, Mark Smith, Julie Young.

I thank the contractor members of the team, especially Steve Lefevre of GTE and Bill Knickerbocker and Marty Ryan of MITRE.

Thank you all: you’re all secret heroes, and today is our day to celebrate the successes we have accomplished together.

I thank everyone who contributed to organizing this retirement ceremony, especially Tammy Baker, Bob Higginson, Steve Digiulio and Pat Crow. Thank you also to Father John Kennedy, BG Quirk, the piper from the South Florida Shamrock Society, the Navy band from Jacksonville, and everyone who participated.

I thank you all for taking time to help me and my family celebrate this occasion. I thank the distinguished colonels, Dave Cammons and Rafael Pubillones and the Vice, Captain Cook.

A very special thanks goes to my old friends who have traveled great distances to stand with me here today. My old Penn State buddies, Dr. Stu Lessin, Rick Scholl and Jeff Surenian, Esquire, and my old AOCS 03-78 buddy, Commander Skip "Ranger Rick" Slyfield. In this life, of the thousands of people you meet, there are only a handful with whom you truly make contact. Our circumstances change, but we remain good friends. I deeply appreciate you all being here.

I’d like to thank Eva’s parents, Mr. and Mrs. Chock, who for years on end, lived with us and helped us raise our kids. They are both old-school Chinese, wonderful people, humble and sincere and beautiful souls.

My brothers, Bill and Mike, and my sister Mindy, thank you for everything. I loved you all when we were kids, I love you even more as adults. Thanks for being great brothers and a wonderful sister.

My father, William King Cool, my first and foremost and final hero, and my mother, Mary Jane Cool, the strongest woman I know, thank you for you love, patience and example. The good in me today is because of you.

Tai Tai and Natasha, you two have been a constant joy. You have continually amazed me and given me hope that the future can always be better. I missed you both terribly when I was away at sea, and one of the most important reasons that I’m looking forward to retirement is so I can spend more time with you. You've been great navy kids, excellent gypsies and wonderful, funny, loving children. I thank you for the help you’ve given me, and for the help you will give me in the future.

Which leaves us, of course, with Eva. She is the well-known secret of my success. People sometimes have asked me, how have you managed to write while you have a full-time Navy job? The answer is Eva. She paid the bills, managed the household, raised the kids and took care of business. She encouraged me at times when I was low, tolerated my bad moods, and inspired me to work harder. She cajoled me, made me laugh while I was shaving, got me out the door, and welcomed me home. She not only made it all possible, but she made it all necessary, and she made it fun. She is simply the best. A great Navy wife, a great writer’s wife, and you have to be a strong, patient woman to be either, let alone both. Thank you, Eva. I love you.

As another token of my love and appreciation of my family, I’d like to present this little slide show, which provides some glimpses into what our years together has meant to me. This will take 3 minutes, 55 seconds.

[Slide show, 125 still images of Cool family over 20 years, set to "Shiny Happy People," by REM.]

Thanks, everybody, once again. It’s been a great career. God bless you all, God bless our great service, and God bless America. All debts paid, all duties turned over. I hear a liberty call, and I’m going ashore.

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