The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
— Robert Frost
DON YORK SLEEPS TODAY on a green hillside nestled in the heart of the Great Smoky Mountains that he loved so well. The promises kept, the miles traveled; his life’s journey is ended. My purpose is simply to recall for us who knew him, and to make known to those who did not, some of the things remembered best about Don. In this way we may better realize that his final sacrifice, given freely in the line of duty, was so given because of Don’s dedication to the ideals of Duty, Honor, Country that we, too, hold so dear. This knowledge infinitely deepens the humility with which these words are written and gives them renewed purpose — a tribute to a dedicated soldier and a devoted friend.
I first met Don in 1948 when we were roommates in prep school studying for the West Point entrance exams. During this year that we were together I learned a great deal about Don. A favorite uncle graduated from West Point when Don was but a small boy. As he grew to manhood, he had only one goal — to follow in his uncle’s footsteps. He was a devoted son and careful never to forget the little things that are so often treated lightly. Birthday, anniversary, or other special days always brought a card or small gift bought with money carefully saved from his allowance. These were the things that were important to Don because he realized that a small effort by him at the proper time could manifest itself many times over in good to others. Perhaps this was one reason why his mother was to say later, “. . . he was so loving and had such a vibrant personality that although we cannot see him — I feel that he is hovering nearby asking God’s protection for us — that we will be together again.”
When Don came to West Point he was an inspiration to all of us that knew him. He knew what to expect, and did his job well and with his usual friendliness and sincerity. This caused one upperclassman to remark, “He had a way of making me forget myself to the point of wishing his plebe year would soon end so that we could get on with being friends.” Academics were no breeze, but Don took them in his stride. He was a good athlete, but chose to limit his talents to intramural sports. The 1950-1954 intramural record of Company C-1 is testimony to his efforts. The years as a cadet slipped quickly by and soon Don found himself a newly commissioned second lieutenant of Infantry. A dream was fulfilled and a new career was beginning.
Don chose Johanna Mooney, a lovely blonde from his hometown, to share this new life. The love that survived the trying cadet years was fittingly culminated in their wedding in the church where Don’s family had worshipped for many years. Ironically, it was to be less than a decade before the same priest in the same church was to acknowledge the division of this holy bond in the only way possible — “till death do us part.”
Infantry school, Ranger training, and jump school were to be Don’s first assignments. A platoon at Fort Lewis, Washington, was his first field duty followed by a tour in Alaska. He returned to Fort Benning for the Infantry Advanced Course and then a company with STRAC at Fort Bragg. Here he gained the reputation of being one of the finest company commanders in the division. It was not surprising then that he was selected as one of the outstanding infantry officers needed to fill the expanding need for military advisors to South Vietnam.
Another graduate, William S. Schroeder ’52, closer to Don during his tour in Vietnam, writes of his service there:
It was my privilege to have served with Don in the Airborne brigade of the Republic of Vietnam where Don earned the reputation among Vietnamese and Americans alike as our most outstanding advisor.
Don nearly mastered the Vietnamese language without benefit of attendance at a language course. To the delight of the Vietnamese paratroopers, he would play the guitar and sing in Vietnamese several of the popular Vietnamese folk songs.
Near the village of Kontum, where his Airborne battalion, reserve to the II Corps, was attacked, Don attended Catholic Mass at a Montagnard (primitive Highlanders of Vietnam) church. The impression he made on the Montagnards must have been deep for they will speak of the tall, blond American who came to worship with them.
Don volunteered for every mission. I still remember his genuine disappointment when, on a three-battalion operation, his battalion was designated as the reserve while the other two battalions made a parachute assault.
It was on 14 July 1962 that Don volunteered to accompany two companies of his battalion on a convoy escort mission to bring the Airborne brigade’s Engineer Company back to Saigon from the vicinity of Ben Cat. Don went along to check the convoy discipline and to ensure that the vehicles traveled at least 100 meters apart. At 0800 hours on Highway 13, north of Saigon, a Viet Cong battalion sprang its ambush. Don’s vehicle, the fifth in line, was destroyed and all occupants killed. Due to the proper vehicle dispersal, which Don had ensured by his presence, only two vehicles were destroyed.
A senior officer summed up the feelings of all those who knew Don with the comment, ‘They got the best we had to offer.’
Tears streamed freely down the faces of the honor guard as Don’s body was placed on the airplane for the long trip back to his final resting place.
The Vietnamese named a building for him, and his former U.S. unit designated an athletic trophy in his honor. His life was the epitome of Duty-Honor-Country, and his death — that of a true soldier.
Don did not relish the separation from his wife and children that his assignment to Vietnam would mean. He knew of the hazardous duty and of the job he would be getting. But he also knew that it was his responsibility and he willingly accepted it. True, it was to be his last assignment. But a chosen few in this far-off land, friends and enemy alike, will not soon forget the name — Captain York. One of these was Lt. Colonel Austin Triplett, Jr., Don’s last commanding officer. In the citation for the Army Commendation Medal awarded posthumously, Colonel Triplett said,
. . . his efforts substantiated the reputation he had of being as accurate and dependable as a fine watch. Captain York was a fine man, a truly professional soldier, and the best example of the ideal American advisor that the United States may ever send to this theater.
This was Don York — the devoted son, the roommate, the cadet, the loving husband and father, the dedicated soldier, the friend. He was many things to many people, but to each he was one not to be soon forgotten. One can ask no more of a man than this.
The promises are kept now; Duty, Honor, Country — done proud. The miles have come and the miles have gone. You have left far behind the woods so lovely dark and deep. Now you can put out your hand to touch the face of God and find peace and happiness in eternal sleep. I know this is true, and I feel a twinge of regret, because I also know that I have lost a friend.
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