Tell My Sons: A Father's Last Letters Read online

  PRAISE FOR TELL MY SONS

  “You three boys, along with your father, Mark, have given-names that belonged to men who are surely in God’s ‘Hall of Fame of Faith.’ … None of us knows the challenges we will face, but we know that to meet those challenges, God has a great reservoir of mental, physical, and moral strength for each of us.… Your dad has given you an unadorned look at his courageous use of those reservoirs in meeting the challenges for him and your family. It will surely help you in meeting your own challenges.”

  —General John W. Vessey, Jr., U.S. Army (Retired), tenth chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff

  “Mark Weber is a modern-day soldier-statesman who has given us a blueprint for how to build character—an indispensable quality for transformative and sustainable leadership.”

  —Tim Pawlenty, former governor of Minnesota and Republican presidential candidate

  “A powerful testimony of compassion, conviction, and persistence. Mark is an incredibly talented communicator who has provided us all with an intimate and intellectually gripping perspective on life. He pulls no punches—with his sons, with us, or with himself. With humility and a gift for broaching sobering topics, Tell My Sons … will inspire you to want to be a better human being.”

  —Cathy L. Greenberg, PhD, coauthor of the New York Times bestseller What Happy Working Mothers Know and What Happy Women Know

  “Lieutenant Colonel Mark Weber has left a proud record of service to his nation, much of which is told in this remarkable book. It is a book not only for Mark’s sons, who can look back on their father’s accomplishments with admiration, but also for anyone who wants to know what a life dedicated to country and family looks like.”

  —Donald Rumsfeld, former U.S. secretary of defense

  “Mark Weber’s Tell My Sons … should be entitled Tell Us All. This poignant, passionate, and very personal work will deeply move you. Yes, it’s a story for Mark’s sons, but it is much more. Here is one man’s life story, a soldier’s story, that has the wisdom of a life well lived. It’s a great legacy for his sons, but it’s a great legacy for our sons and daughters as well.”

  —General Richard Myers, U.S. Air Force (Retired), fifteenth chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff

  “The Webers have served the U.S. Army and our nation with great distinction, and their recent battle with cancer is no exception. Mark has soldiered on, pouring his great courage, dogged determination, and unflinching humor into the most painful gift a father can give. He has written answers to questions that have yet to be asked, turning personal lessons into a powerful legacy. Tell My Sons … will leave an indelible mark on the hearts of all who read it. Lynne and I are honored to have served with the Weber family; we are inspired by their story, which will continue to inspire for generations to come.”

  —General Peter Pace, U.S. Marine Corps (Retired), sixteenth chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff

  “The ancients admired most the man who could face mortality and still tell a great story. They would surely admire Mark Weber. Here you’ll find the truest heroism.”

  —Jay Heinrichs, author of Thank You for Arguing

  “Mark and Kristin Weber’s courage along their journey of life exemplify the Outward Bound values, ‘To serve, to strive, and not to yield.’ Thanks to this book, his sons won’t be the only ones who benefit from this wonderful gift of mentorship and empowerment.”

  —Lee Skold, chairman of the board, Outward Bound USA

  “Mark has crafted a moving account of pain and suffering turned into joy and wisdom. Through all the hardships and battles, he displays the fighting spirit of a warrior, the steady compassion of a leader, and the unconditional love of a father and husband. His life and his words are an inspiration to me, and they will be an inspiration to you.”

  —Eric Greitens, New York Times bestselling author of The Heart and the Fist: The Education of a Humanitarian, the Making of a Navy SEAL

  “Tell My Sons … is an inspiring work of great and earthy humanity, full of precious models of wisdom and honest love. Mark’s story reveals the importance of exercising reflective curiosity and empathic imagination in serving with grace, care, and good humor. He has taught me about how honest human beings respond to a life that they allow themselves to love.”

  —Dr. Ronald Heifetz, founding director, Center for Public Leadership at Harvard University, and author of Leadership without Easy Answers

  “I’ve been around Mark Weber a lot in some incredibly difficult circumstances, and it was not only what he got done, but how he got it done.… It’s not a bad thing when you come across someone who can influence you so profoundly, whether you’re a private first class or the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff of the United States of America.… He’s one of the finest leaders I’ve met in my thirty-eight years of service.”

  —General Martin E. Dempsey, U.S. Army, eighteenth chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff

  “The book arrived at a challenging time for me. It is wonderful—equal parts inspirational and sobering. It is a tremendous reminder of the blessings that we all have, regardless of our personal situations.… It was inspirational, at a key moment.”

  —General David H. Petraeus, U.S. Army (Retired), former director of the Central Intelligence Agency

  Copyright © 2012 by Tell My Sons LLC

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

  Ballantine and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.

  All photographs, unless otherwise specified, are courtesy of the Weber family.

  Originally published by Beaver’s Pond Press, Inc.,

  in 2012 in slightly different form.

  eISBN: 978-1-59298-575-3

  www.ballantinebooks.com

  Jacket design: Tom McKeveny

  v3.1

  Foreword

  We all eventually reach the end of our march. For some of us, the route is long. For others, the path is short. But it’s not the length of the journey that matters as much as the steps we take.

  If you discovered disease was about to cut your life short, no one could rightfully judge you for dropping out of line. But for those who refuse to let an incurable illness keep them from doing their duty, for those who keep fighting, for those who live life vigorously and joyfully to the very end, we have names for those people. We call them heroes.

  I had the pleasure of working with Mark during a USO tour he helped organize for the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff in 2004. At the time, he inspired me in the same way all military personnel do. Everyone who serves their country deserves respect for their personal sacrifice, and they sure get mine. But after learning of his battle with cancer, my respect for Mark grew exponentially.

  If war is hell, as they say, then fighting an incurable disease is something altogether worse.

  Soldiers can survive wars. Cancer victims in stage IV aren’t usually so fortunate. As the fight continues, the odds dwindle. That can either be a cause for isolation or an opportunity to send a powerful message with whatever life one has left to live. Mark Weber chose the latter. Instead of shutting down, Mark got to work. He collected his thoughts and stories for his sons, and we’re fortunate he’s left them behind for us all to read.

  Lieutenant Colonel Weber marched with purpose, humor, dignity, and grace. This book is about what drove him. It’s a look at who he was, what he believed, and what awaits his sons in their own lives. Reading it might help you advance through this world, too.

  May he light the way.

/>   —Robin Williams

  Preface

  Dear Matthew, Joshua, and Noah,

  I wrote a book for you. I started writing it long before any of you were born, and even before I met your mom, but it was always written for you.

  When I was twelve years old, my grandma Weber died of a sudden heart attack. As we helped Grandpa go through her things, we came across a letter he wrote to her in August 1944. His work kept them separated, and he was writing to tell her about his job, the weather—no mention of the world war raging across the sea—and how “it seems like it has been a year here without you.” He was playful. He drew several doodles in the margins, one of which was a man sticking out his tongue. He closed the note by telling her how much he enjoyed the roast and the cake she made for him, and then he drew two birds—one for each of his sons at the time.

  The faded letter looked and felt like an ancient treasure, but what impressed me most was that I had never heard Grandpa talk or act that sweet. He didn’t even remember writing it and said it didn’t sound like him at all. That bugged me. I wanted to know more about Grandma. And I sure wouldn’t want to forget what it was like to write a letter like that.

  As I grew older, I found that all three of my remaining grandparents were short on details. Of course they had stories, but not always the details I wanted to know about. They couldn’t remember young emotions or reasoning, and they wouldn’t talk about their biggest mistakes or regrets. The questions I had didn’t match the answers they were willing or able to give.

  I imagined someday I would have grandkids (yes, grandkids) who might be just as interested in me as I was in my grandparents. And so I started writing a journal, and I kept it brutally honest. Looking back, there’s a lot of stuff I’m really not proud of, but I figure maybe those ugly things reflect my growth through the years. This book comes from that journal.

  Of course, I imagined one day sharing these stories in person, but now I’m dying, and I realize I might not even get to share it with you boys, let alone with any grandkids.

  If attitude alone determined survival, I would live another fifty years. Unfortunately, our bodies get a vote, and my forty-year-old frame is giving out way sooner than it should. Despite some breathtaking treatments, I still have cancer, I can’t have any more surgeries, and the chemo is failing. I may look invincible in my army uniform or while cutting down trees with a feeding machine strapped over my shoulder, but to suggest that I’m not dying is just dishonest.

  So I started thinking about ways to tell you my stories.

  There’s an eighteen-year-old boy inside of me who sees the three of you quickly approaching the age when I started really thinking about life. That boy stood out on a parade field twenty-three years ago as a day-four enlisted soldier in the army and listened while an unseen narrator passionately recited an adaptation of General Douglas MacArthur’s famous 1962 speech to the cadets of West Point. The words and the accompanying music pulled at the hair on my arms and neck, and I felt tears roll down my cheeks. For the first time—and forever after—I understood life was much bigger than the things that were happening around me.

  I committed the speech to memory and have recited it with the same passion during countless retirement ceremonies and military holidays over the past twenty years. You three were all just babies when the army recognized me as one of the best company-grade officers of the more than thirty thousand in the army. The honor? The General MacArthur Leadership Award.

  The truth is, I’m not a big fan of Douglas MacArthur and never have been. I attended a military high school and have been in an army uniform since age fourteen, so I knew who MacArthur was when I first heard his words. He always seemed more movie character than actual man, and it struck me then that if you want to be a real-life man, you have to learn from real-life men.

  But his speech to those young men is about being a real man. It’s about life as a struggle and our need to embrace it, about the contradictions and complexity and confusion, about the courage and search for wisdom required to get through it all, and about coming to it all as honestly as a man can reasonably do.

  So when it came time to share with you what I’ve learned about life, I knew I had to draw on that speech just one more time—with the three of you as my aspiring young “cadets,” and each chapter framed in a moral from that speech.

  Matthew, when you were twelve, I tried to offer you some advice after a brief discussion on some mundane subject, and you interrupted me. “Dad,” you said with an elevated tone to get my attention, “I’ll figure it out.” You were right then, and you’re still right. You had asked the question, gained some context, and then set out on your own course. With such understanding, I have faith that the three of you will indeed figure it out.

  And so these pages reflect observations and perspective rather than advice or instruction. Though I’ll speak with my usual conviction and passion, I know I gained those attributes over a long period of time and in the same manner Matthew expressed. My stories are not examples of the way to live your life; my stories are just examples of an infinite number of paths.

  Which one should you take?

  With the help of many other people you’ll meet in your life, you’ll figure it out.

  Along the way, I hope you’ll consult these pages as often and as casually as you would if I were still here and you could pick up the phone. I hope you’ll ask this book different questions at different times in your lives. And I hope you’ll find answers or perspectives to match.

  I hate writing this letter, but I would hate not writing it even more. Nothing can replace the long talks I hoped to have while fishing or driving to some far-off adventure with you, just as I got to do with my dad. But, thankfully, I’ve been blessed with enough time to pass along the most compelling experiences of my life. As sad as the reasons are for writing any of this, let’s see if we can squeeze some joy out of it before I have to leave.

  Love,

  Dad

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Foreword

  Preface

  Introduction

  … TO BE STRONG ENOUGH TO KNOW WHEN YOU ARE WEAK, BRAVE ENOUGH TO FACE YOURSELF WHEN YOU ARE AFRAID.

  Chapter One

  … NOT TO SEEK THE PATH OF COMFORT, BUT TO FACE THE STRESS AND SPUR OF DIFFICULTY AND CHALLENGE.

  Chapter Two

  … NOT TO SUBSTITUTE WORDS FOR ACTIONS.

  Chapter Three

  … TO BE PROUD AND UNBENDING IN HONEST FAILURE, BUT HUMBLE AND GENTLE IN SUCCESS.

  Chapter Four

  … TO SEEK OUT AND EXPERIENCE A VIGOR OF THE EMOTIONS, A FRESHNESS OF THE DEEP SPRINGS OF LIFT, AN APPETITE FOR ADVENTURE OVER LOVE OF EASE.

  Chapter Five

  … TO SEEK A TEMPER OF THE WILL, A QUALITY OF THE IMAGINATION, AND TO EXERCISE A TEMPERAMENTAL PREDOMINANCE OF COURAGE OVER TIMIDITY.

  Chapter Six

  … TO BE MODEST SO THAT YOU WILL APPRECIATE THE OPEN MIND OF TRUE WISDOM, THE MEEKNESS OF TRUE STRENGTH.

  Chapter Seven

  … TO BE SERIOUS, YET NEVER TO TAKE YOURSELF TOO SERIOUSLY; TO CRY, BUT ALSO TO LAUGH.

  Chapter Eight

  … TO DISCOVER THE SENSE OF WONDER, THE UNFAILING HOPE OF WHAT IS NEXT, AND THE JOY AND INSPIRATION OF LIFE.

  Epilogue: “How Are You Doing?”

  Dedication

  Author’s Note and Acknowledgments

  EACH OF THESE TITLES COMES FROM A FAREWELL SPEECH GENERAL DOUGLAS MACARTHUR DELIVERED IN 1962 TO THE CORPS OF CADETS AT THE U.S. ARMY MILITARY ACADEMY AT WEST POINT.

  About the Author

  Introduction

  … TO BE STRONG ENOUGH TO KNOW WHEN YOU ARE WEAK, BRAVE ENOUGH TO FACE YOURSELF WHEN YOU ARE AFRAID.

  1993, Minnesota State University ROTC

  ROTC

  JUNE 2010

  It’s a Wednesday afternoon, and General David Petraeus has just assumed command of all operations in Af
ghanistan following a very public dismissal of General Stanley McChrystal. The last time a president sacked a general for poor conduct was when Harry Truman fired General Douglas MacArthur over disagreement on war strategy in Korea.

  Most of the senior army leaders in the Minnesota National Guard knew Petraeus had selected me for an assignment to Iraq in 2005–2006, when I was a major and still in the U.S. Regular Army. Many also knew I had maintained a loose relationship with him since then and that he had recently accepted an invitation to come visit Minnesota. My comrades half joked I would get a call.

  There was no call from Petraeus, but there was an email, and in it he proposed I join his team in Afghanistan on a special mission with the most senior levels of the Afghan parliament.

  Petraeus reached out to one of his two subordinate general officers, and twelve hours later, I received an unexpected call on my cellphone while sitting in morning rush-hour traffic on I-35E.

  “Mark, this is Lieutenant General Caldwell”—that’s three stars—“calling from Afghanistan … Do you have time to talk?” We had never met, but he spoke in a tone and language that experience taught me was reserved for personal staff and a mature relationship. He told me an endorsement from Petraeus was as good as it got, “so let’s get to it.”

  He asked what I had done to earn such high praise and how I had maintained such a long-term relationship with senior Iraqi leaders—specifically, General Babakir Zibari, the Iraqi chief of defense, to whom I was assigned during my deployment. My explanation sounded modest, but it was the truth—lots of energy, simple social graces, and learning Kurdish, the Iraqi general’s native language. Caldwell didn’t seem to believe it was that simple, but commented, “Well, we want and need that kind of talent.”

  I lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, my mind cluttered with mixed emotions. I’d have to leave you all immediately for a yearlong absence in a war zone, which made me sad and anxious. On the other hand, combat is why soldiers exist, it had been five years since I last deployed, and this kind of assignment was an exceptional professional affirmation for a soldier of any rank.