This from Ed Fuller -

Thad and I first met when we were on "casual" duty, immediately following basic training. Our Russian class wasn't going to start for three weeks, so we were available for any labor needed by the US Army and anybody who outranked an E-nothing. Which we both were. As it turned out, when class started in September, 1975, we were in the same eight person section. He showed up in my barracks room the first day after class, and announced we were going to study together. He chose me, for some reason. I think it had something to do with the fact I had restored a 1959 Cadillac, and knew the difference between a radiator and distributor cap. Oh yes, Thad LOVED his cars! I was fascinated by his Mazda with the rotary engine. I often told him it could pass anything on the road but a gas station, especially the way he roared through town.

He was several years older than me. I joined at 18, and he never held my age against me. Or any of us. But we studied together almost every day. Fridays were PX and Class Six shopping days, however. He was very generous about taking me with him, and inviting me to dinner at his apartment. He picked me up at the airport in San Francisco, about a hundred miles north, after Christmas leave. He predicted that after a week back home, I would be ready to leave my hometown. He was right, of course. But it helped coming back to my friends, including him.

We got in enough trouble to make life interesting, but managed to evade capture. In those days, Monterey was NOT a military friendly town. Growing up in Norfolk, Va., it never occurred to me people could be so out of it. But Thad would never back down in a discussion, and nobody wanted to physically engage him. In June, 1976, we graduated and went to San Angelo, Texas. I thought it was my first overseas assignment. But again, Thad could always find things to do, and included his friends. When we finished the 90 day tdy assignment, we went to Fort Devens. Back then, a lot of people felt put upon to be assigned to a tactical unit, instead of a field station. Plus, many wanted a stateside assignment, but I opted for overseas. So did Thad.

I got to Augsburg and attended a briefing by Colonel Teal. One of the finest officers I ever met. He commanded the 502nd ASA (maybe the 522nd?) Group. Thad arrived in country a week after me, and ended up in the 202nd ASA Company, outside Ansbach. Fortune dropped me at the 856th ASA, near Frankfurt. Didn't matter. We ended up at Meissner, or Hohenfels, or Graf, or Reforger, or Certain Fighter, or other places most Germans don't know about. Once when Thad and I were at Meissner the same time, I suggested a hike to Eschweger, stopping at each gasthaus we encountered. Today they call it a pub crawl. Years later, we referred to it as the time we staggered for two days, then listened to our livers hiccup for a week. He actually mentioned this to me in an email last summer.

Several weekends, two other guys from the courses, Jim and Curtis, would drive with me to see Thad in Ansbach. He had a huge landlord, about six foot eight, named Harry (Schellenberg?) Once when Thad was overserved, Harry picked him up and carefully placed him in bed. Thad woke up long enough to say good night, but the next morning he was ready for more celebrating. We bought his red VW when he purchased a 1966 midnight blue Mercedes. Diesel. He actually brought that back to the states, having to put in a different windshield and do something with the headlights. Thad loved his cars.

Back then, ranks were automatic from E1 to E3. You enlisted, you were E1. After four months, you were E2. In a year, you were E3. Because of our schools and records, we both made E4 as we departed Fort Devens. That was in October, 1976. In November, 1977, we both made SGT E5 at the same time. He truly deserved it, and I was in an environment that they were desperate for anybody who could drive a tent stake. The Army was still hurting from Vietnam, and was basically depleted in many different ways. Then President Carter granted amnesty to everyone who fled to Canada to avoid the draft. That went down real hard, as you can imagine. But we endured. On a brighter note, New Year's Eve, 1977, we had a wild celebration. From what I can remember, it involved us dodging fireworks and getting lost in Hoechst. Drinking more beer did not help our German speaking abilities, it turned out.

One thing I distinctly remember was Thad had an excellent reputation as a squad leader. At first, we were jealous of him, because he had a very effective CO. Our first one must have been the general's son-in-law, perhaps. But he was only there for a couple months when we got one of the finest CO's ever minted. He was a soft spoken but extremely competent captain, who went from our XO to CO. The former CO moved on very quietly, and Daniel T. Morris had to take over the quagmire. He had thirty days (and nights) to fix so many things that were broken, but he did it. I mention this because one of the pictures I saw recently mentioned Captain Morris (now a retired Colonel, I believe) and I never realized Thad interfaced with him. I actually told Captain Morris when I left that if I could have him for my permanent CO, I would sign up for thirty years on the spot. But of course, nobody can make such a promise. But he was that good.

That's what happens when you leave the Big Green Machine. You lose track of people. However, Thad and I would continue to cross paths, deliberately. I would fly to California and see Thad. I met Thad III (aka Thadpole) when he was about two months old. Thad came to Delray Beach, Florida in 1986 for Thanksgiving, and they lost his luggage. I lent him my bathing suit, which he wrapped around himself about six times. Just another chapter. When we moved to Raleigh in 1988, Thad was just closing up his house at Fort Bragg, about 80 miles away. I brought a trailer full of tools, ladders, etc. to help him prepare his house for sale, and he was once again off. We wrote letters and exchanged pictures, etc. We adopted three brothers from a Romanian orphanage in 1991, when he was in the first Gulf War. Even so, I went to Germany to transfer hard currency, and he set me up with his American Express account while deployed. The wire transfer from my credit union was free, versus a fifteen percent charge by Western Union. That translated to a $1,500 cost.

We got together several times over the years, and shared our ups and downs. The loss of his son was devastating, of course, but he swore he would get through it. I was amazed at how much he suffered, but hid it from the world. That was Thad, ladies and gentlemen.

I apologize if this seems long winded, but you see, I do not have any shared memories with you all. Thad was my repository for ALL the memories, both happy and bitter. I wanted to add to the thread with my recollection of the early days. I felt I owed it to him, and his friends. The Thad we all know has been constant through the years. Same qualities, such as the heart of a lion, and the generosity of a saint. I was lucky to be able to call him my friend.

God bless all of us. Thank you.