Far East Cynic

Throwback Thursday -The Bulldog

The days are counting down until I board the plane to make the 5 year equivalent of the Haj and make the pilgrimage back to my alma mater. Over the next two weeks, I intend to post some of my previous Citadel related posts in the hope of doing honor to some of my classmates who will not be able to make the trip -ever again. Sam Savas was my classmate and my friend. His memory is indeed a blessing. I’ve included a link to the original post. You should go read the comments that are there, they too tell a big part of the story.

God, filled with mercy, dwelling in the heavens’ heights, bring proper rest beneath the wings of your Shechinah, amid the ranks of the holy and the pure, illuminating like the brilliance of the skies the souls of our beloved and our blameless who went to their eternal place of rest. May You who are the source of mercy shelter them beneath Your wings eternally, and bind their souls among the living, that they may rest in peace. And let us say: Amen.

On the campus of The Citadel, in front of McAllister field house, there is this statue of a brass bulldog:

The Bulldog Monument is a memorial dedicated to Maj. Sam M. Savas, Jr., Class of 1951, who died in Vietnam in October 1965. He also served as a Citadel tactical officer from 1962 to 1965.  The Bulldog Monument is made from brass belt buckles, waist plates and breastplates collected from cadets.

His son Sam, was a classmate of mine. The second bronze plaque on the statue is dedicated to him. As with all things, there is a great and sad story that goes along with it.

During my time at the Citadel, many times before a big weekend such as Parents day-Sam would go out in his PT gear and a bag full of Brasso with him-and polish up the Bulldog.  He did not have to do it – but he knew darn well that the college maintenance folks would probably not do a very good job if they even did it at all. Thus, as a way to pay tribute to his father, he would make the statue gleam-even if just for a short while.

After graduation, Sam joined the herd of us who trotted off to Pensacola-and naval aviation schools command. He earned his wings as a helicopter pilot, flying H-46’s out of Norfolk. Along the way, he picked up a wife. As he was over in the HC squadron and I was in an E-2 squadron-on opposite schedules of deployments, we did not get to see each other a lot. However, we did some things together and also his wife became a friend of my ex-wife. When the time came to go to shore duty-he transferred down to Corpus Christi, TX. There he flew Huey’s as one of the station SAR pilots.

In October of 1985-twenty years to the month since his father was killed, Sam was killed in an aircraft accident near Padre Island in Texas. I can still remember answering the phone that night-on the other end of the line was Sam’s wife, telling us the news. She had only been notified herself a few hours before. Why she called me, I’ve never been exactly sure.  Soon after we got the word out to our classmates-many of whom were in the Norfolk area.

Sam was a great guy-and whenever I have returned to the campus, I make it a point to stop at the statue and linger awhile. In the day, I used to walk past that statue every day on my way to practice with the crew team. I quite often-as a young man of 19, 20 and  21-did not give the statue a second glance. Now when I see it, the stark reality of father and son, memorialized so-haunts me. What must it have been like for Sam,  to see that just about every day of his four-year stint as a cadet? I cannot imagine it.

While writing this post, I tried to find summaries of the mishap. They cannot be found-so rapidly is the record fading. They probably are on some database at the Naval Safety Center.  Whenever I go to the Vietnam memorial in DC, I make it a point to look up his father’s name. Today’s new breed may know the place on campus and the names-but they do not know the real story. At least I think they do not. I would ask them to treasure their time there-when it’s gone, it’s gone.

But I will remember Sam-both father and son-and the destinies that have linked them now eternally together.