Editor’s note: Leo Weeks, Colonel U.S. Army-Retired, was born and raised in South Amity and is the son of the now-deceased Samuel and Phyllis Farrar. He served 33 years in the Army and presently is as an adjunct professor at the University of West Florida in Pensacola. Lt. Gen. Ewell was interred at Arlington National Cemetery on Oct. 27.
By Leo Joseph Weeks
Special to the Pioneer Times
Lt. Gen. Julian J. Ewell, 93, U.S. Army, died on July 27, 2009. He commanded both an airborne battalion and regiment in WWII, an infantry regiment in Korea, and both a division and a corps in Vietnam. I served as his Senior-Aide-de-Camp in Vietnam from August 1969 until February 1970. He played a major role in my life. No other person except my own father has had a more profound impact on my life than Julian Ewell.
Col. (Ret.) Leo Joseph Weeks
I met General Ewell for the first time in August 1969. I had come down to II Field Forces in Long Bien as the 1st Infantry Division’s candidate to be interviewed to become his senior aide. There were 12 of us majors gathered there that morning for the Chief of Staff’s “culling session” and, by late afternoon, three of us remained for direct interviews with General Ewell. I can still recall my total fear of meeting him as I had never met a three-star before let alone having discussions with one. Nevertheless, when he asked me why I wanted to be his aide, I thought that I was ready for him. I responded, “Sir I plan to be a senior officer myself and I think being your aide will help me with learning those responsibilities!” I’ll never forget the shocked look on his face and then his loud laughter as he said, “Buster, it takes two things to become a general in this man’s army – a lot of hard work and a good deal of luck! That’s all. Dismissed!”
Later, as I was flying back to my 1st Division HQ, a call came in that the division commander wanted to see me the moment I landed! Again, another moment of terror! Had I insulted the corps commander with my unorthodox response to his question? Was I about to be canned? As I walked into Maj. Gen. Talbott’s office at division HQ, he came out from behind his desk and stuck out his hand. “Congratulations, Leo! Just got a call from General Ewell and he wants you to be his senior aide. Pack and get down there this evening!” Thus my seven months as General Ewell’s senior aide began that evening.
Lt. Gen. Julian J. Ewell
As I became aware, in my new job, that General Ewell had relieved the previous two aides for cause in a matter of days, I was more than uncertain about my longevity as an aide-de-camp. Each night for those first few days as I went to my trailer without having been fired, I figured it had been a very successful day! And all went quite well until some days later when President Nixon came to Vietnam. It was at that time that I came closer to being fired than at any point in my assignment as General Ewell’s aide.
On that fateful morning after I had been with the General only some 10 days, he called me into his office and said, “President Nixon is coming to Tan Son Nhut airbase in Saigon at 1300 hours today and I want to fly down there and meet him. Set it up.” Well, that seemed like a pretty straight forward task as I found out from the Field Force Operations Officer that Tan Son Nhut was to be “sanitized” an hour before the arrival of Air Force One, thus I needed to have General Ewell there before 1200 hours. I called the helicopter pilot and jeep driver and set up the general’s travel accordingly. All was well until about 1000 hours as I was in General Ewell’s office to deliver some papers for his signature, he asked what time we were leaving for the airport. Proudly, I told him we were leaving at 1125 hours, as it was about a 30-minute run from the HQ to Tan Son Nhut in order to get there before the sanitization of the airport at 1200 hours. He responded by saying, “Buster, Come here! Now you get this and get it right the first time! I run this corps area and everything in it. If the President is landing at Tan Son Nhut at 1300 hours I will land on that VIP pad at 1255 hours. And if you can’t make that happen, just let me know as there’s about a dozen other young studs out there who would just love to have your job! Now get out and get it done!”
I slinked out to my desk and nearly collapsed into my chair and figured my days as a general’s aide were swiftly drawing to a close. Then, a bright idea crossed my mind – What did I have to lose? I had met Maj. Gen. Brown who ran Tan Son Nhut some days earlier so I called him directly and told him of the one-sided conversation that just transpired in General Ewell’s office. He responded with a gale of laughter and then said, “Major, you don’t have a problem. If the corps commander wants to land at 1255 hours I will make a one aircraft exception to my sanitization and you just bring him right on in!” I would have kissed his hand, honest to God! I had been given a reprieve!
A few minutes later General Ewell buzzed me and asked for our new departure time. When I told him that we had arranged that he land down there at 1255 hours, he simply said: “ Now that wasn’t so damn tough was it?” At which point I was slowly reaching the basket case-stage. It was my toughest day as his aide and I’ll never forget it.
Although General Ewell had “no toleration for fools,” he was a sensitive human being who took good care of his people. As an example, later that day of the presidential visit when we were at Tan Son Nhut and all the generals, to include General Abrams (the commander of all U.S. Forces in Vietnam) were lined up at the foot of the ramp of Air Force One to greet the President and we aides were all hovering in the shade some 100 yards away, General Ewell did a remarkable thing! Just as President Nixon was approaching him in the long line of generals, he called out to me, “Major Weeks. get over here and meet the President.” As I rushed up, he said to the President, “Mister President, I’d like you to meet my Senior-Aide-de-Camp, Major Leo Weeks!” I was the only aide called forward that day and I will never forget grasping the President’s hand at my general’s invitation. It was a fantastic act of kindness and I remember it as if it were yesterday. (This was the only time the General ever called me Major Weeks!)
Thereafter, the months went by swiftly with General Ewell, with more learning situations taking place than space here allows for description. The learning curve covered leadership, tactics, respect, civility, brotherhood, diplomacy, and a host of other good things, which I’ve attempting to use as appropriate throughout my life. I can best summarize it when I look back to my exit visit with the General as I was preparing to leave him in mid-February, 1970. I thanked him for the honor of having been his senior aide and he responded, “As you depart, leave my stars here because you’ll just be one more major out there when you walk through that door. Work hard, believe in our Army, and try always to do the right thing even when you’re not being watched, and you’ll do all right. Good luck, Buster!”
When Agnes and I had lunch with General Ewell’s widow (our former Ambassador to Madagascar) at Fort Belvoir in August on our return trip to Navarre, we shared a good amount of tears and laughter with her as we reminisced about our favorite General and the impact he had had on all our lives. Mrs. Ewell memorably concluded our luncheon discussion by saying, “You know, I’ll bet Julian listened to everything we had to say about him. As you know, he had a fantastic capability!” Yes, Madame Ambassador, he surely did and I was blessed to have had the opportunity to work with him daily.
So, good-bye General for now and, again, I thank you for all that you’ve done for our great country over your many years of service and, personally, I thank you for the opportunity to serve with you, sir. It was both an honor and a large part of my life.
