In an online article about Military readiness, retired Marine Corps Lieutenant General Greg Newbold blasts our senior politicians and military leaders who “seem to have developed a form of dementia when it comes to warfare.”

Newbold takes these leaders to task for stressing green energy policies, critical race theory, and wokeness instead of focusing on the primary objective of the armed forces, which is to defend America at home and carry out missions overseas. He gives readers nine key points regarding the purpose of the military and its traditional differences from the civilian world. He makes the observation that “Wars must be waged only with stone-cold pragmatism, not idealism, and fought only when critical national interests are at stake.”

Newbold ends his essay with this blunt observation: “In any case, these are not Critical Military Theories; these are Critical Military Facts.” Given Newbold’s critique, perhaps some of those he takes aim at should set aside some time and read Anton Myrer’s 1968 novel “Once an Eagle.”

The Story

After being wait-listed for West Point, 18-year-old Sam Damon takes his fate into his own hands and joins the Army. He serves as an enlisted man in an expedition to track down Pancho Villa in Mexico. He next finds himself in France in World War I fighting the Germans, where he wins the Medal of Honor, loses his best friend in combat, and marries Tommy Caldwell, the daughter of a general who becomes Damon’s mentor and friend.

We then follow Sam Damon through various challenges in the peacetime Army of the Roaring ’20s and the Great Depression. During these years, he also begins butting heads with a careerist officer and West Point graduate, Courtney Massengale, who becomes his antagonist throughout the rest of the novel.

During World War II, Damon finds himself in the Pacific as a division commander serving under Massengale. Because of a treacherous move by his superior, Damon’s division is mauled in battle with the Japanese, and his longtime friend Ben Krisler dies in the fighting.

The novel ends with Damon called back into the service as an adviser in Khotiane, which represents Vietnam. Here again he must battle Massengale, who wants to increase American participation in the war, a move that Damon considers disastrous. Myrer’s story gives us a sweeping view of 50 years of American warfare.

Lessons in Leadership

 But “Once an Eagle” offers much more than entertainment, history, and good writing. In “The Leader’s Bookshelf,” retired Admiral James Stavridis and writer and veteran R. Manning Ancell contacted more than 200 high-ranking military officers to ask about their reading habits and favorite books. In Chapter Three, “The Leader’s Bookshelf  ‘Top 50,’” we find “Once an Eagle” ranked No. 2, just behind Michael Schaara’s Civil War novel, “The Killer Angels.”

There’s a reason for that superior ranking. Retired Army General Peter Schoomaker, who introduces readers to “Once an Eagle,” writes: “I read it as a young officer and have never found a more complete combat leadership primer in print.” He takes a special interest in the conflict and contrast between Massengale and Damon. Massengale regards his subordinate as a mustang and a renegade who might more expeditiously further his career by playing the game, as he himself does. Damon prefers serving his men and doing his job to climbing any ladder to success.

As Schoomaker points out, here are the two extremes of a military career: “selflessness and selfishness.” He adds: “Take a poll among today’s career military officers (and indeed in civilian professions as well) and there will be confirmation that there are Damons and Massengales everywhere and at many levels.”

Servant Leadership

During a training exercise, Lieutenant Damon and his men have laid blocks of TNT for a practice demolition, but the charge fails to go off. A Captain Townsend orders the soldiers to remove the explosive, but Damon contradicts that command, citing the manual and the required waiting time before approaching the blocks of TNT. The captain insists, Damon orders the men moving toward the explosive to stand down, and Townsend calls Damon a coward in front of his men—a despicable accusation. And then comes the explosion. Because of Damon’s obstinacy, his men lived.

Again and again in “Once an Eagle,” Sam Damon steps up to protect his men, even at the risk of his reputation. On one military post, when Damon makes changes in his new company, drilling and hiking his men hard, he also wins their respect by improving their food and being generous with passes. “The company got the word quickly enough; and when they found out he was willing to listen to their troubles after retreat and go to bat for them, they began to respond.”

Sam Damon is a leader who serves his men and his country. Courtney Massengale is a leader who serves himself. We might wish that more of today’s leaders would follow the example of Damon.

To Act With Honor

“That’s the whole challenge of life—to act with honor and hope and generosity, no matter what you’ve drawn. You can’t help when or what you were born, you may not be able to help how you die; but you can—and you should—try to pass the days between as a good man.”

Repeatedly throughout “Once an Eagle,” Damon tries to practice the code he espouses. He slips up at times, nearly losing his marriage and making a Faustian bargain with Massengale, yet he nearly always sticks to the right path, which often means, of course, taking the hard path.

Much is made of destiny in this book. In the opening chapter, when he is still a teenage civilian, his then-girlfriend Celia calls him “Mr. Destiny,” teasing him but also quite serious. As we watch Damon advance in the military, we realize the truth of the quote often attributed to the ancient Greek philosopher Heraclitus: “Character is destiny.” Sam Damon has character in spades.

A Final Lesson

“Once an Eagle” and I crossed paths in 1970, and Myrer’s novel made an enormous impression. Twenty years later, Anton Myrer and I spoke a couple of times by phone and exchanged a few letters. I asked if I might send him some books for his signature, and he readily and graciously agreed. In my copy of “Once an Eagle,” he wrote: “For Jeffrey Minick—writer—and friend, who has discovered where the real battle lies …Anton Myrer.” To this day, that generous inscription has puzzled me. We were of different generations; he had fought with the Marines in the Pacific, was a Harvard graduate, and embraced the liberal ideas of his time.

And what did he mean by “the real battle”? Perhaps a hint of meaning may be found in the quote from Aeschylus that begins Myrer’s novel:

“So in the Libyan fable it is told
That once an eagle, stricken with a dart,
Said, when he saw the fashion of the shaft,
‘With our own feathers, not by others’ hands
Are we now smitten.’”

If we read those words carefully, we find a warning and a lesson for all of us living in America today.