The Blue Guidon The Newsletter of Andover and the Military
180 Main Street Andover MA 01810-4161
Tell Us Your Story!
Fall 2014
“Valor on Saipan”
Andover’s Military History Project is an ongoing effort to document the long history of service to the country by Andover students, faculty, alumni, and the school itself. If you are an alumnus or alumna who would like to contribute to this project by researching and writing, please contact Jenny Savino at jsavino@andover. edu. We would love to hear your story!
Fred Stott ’36 earns the Navy Cross Frederic A. Stott ’36 (1917–2006) is a Phillips Academy legend. Born in Taylor Hall, he served heroically in World War II and later had a long, successful career in the Office of Alumni Affairs and as secretary of the Academy. After graduating from Amherst in 1940 and teaching for two years at Governor Dummer Academy, Fred enlisted in the Marines in 1942. He earned the Purple Heart and the Navy Cross for exceptional valor on Saipan and also fought on Roi-Namur, Tinian, and Iwo Jima. On Iwo Jima, as his company’s advance bogged down due to heavy enemy fire, he calmly stood up and led his men across a fire-swept field, getting them to their objective just as a mortar round exploded, breaking his leg. For this action, Fred “Fireball” Stott earned a Bronze Star and a second Purple Heart.
Inaugural Scholarship for Children of Service Members
Recent News Peter Quackenbush McKee (1923–2005) had a multifaceted 42-year career at Phillips Academy, which included teaching physics to this publication’s Editor. In WWII, Capt. McKee flew B-24 Liberators out of Italy with the 15th Air Force, completing 51 missions. In October 2014, our Editor had McKee’s name permanently placed on the fuselage of the last flying B-24 in the world.
Not only did this year mark the 72nd anniversary of Phillips Academy’s Summer Session, but it also marked a milestone for Andover and the Military. Caleb Dean, 16, from Memphis, Tenn., attended Summer Session 2014 as the first recipient of the LCDR Erik Kristensen Scholarship. The scholarship was created by the Alumni Council’s Andover and the Military Committee and is funded by the Maintaining the Military Legacy on Campus Endowment.* The scholarship was named in honor of Lt. Cmdr. Erik S. Kristensen ’91, USN SEAL, who was killed in action in Afghanistan during Operation Red Wings while commanding a mission to rescue four fellow SEALs. Due to Caleb’s father’s service in the U.S. Coast Guard, Caleb was eligible to compete for this unique scholarship. “I am extremely honored Andover selected me as the inaugural recipient of the LCDR Erik Kristensen Scholarship for children of parents who served in the military,” Caleb remarked. “Before coming to Andover, my father stressed to me what an honor it was to receive the scholarship and that I should strive to embody the commitment, tenacity, and zeal of Erik Kristensen… It is my hope that I have served as a worthy recipient of this inaugural award…” Rest assured, Caleb, you certainly did. Congratulations. —Charlie Dean, Editor
*Donations to the Maintaining the Military Legacy on Campus Endowment can be made to the Andover Fund, designated for Andover and the Military.
1st Lt. Hanson Causbie ’08 is currently forward deployed in Afghanistan as an AH-64 Apache attack helicopter platoon leader in the 82nd Airborne Division. Hanson recently sent back this photo showing his Andover pride and spirit.
For 27 days in June and July of 1944, my father and his comrades in the 1st Battalion, 24th Marines, 4th Marine Division fought their way from the south to the north of Saipan. A small, mountainous island in the Marianas chain, Saipan’s prize was its airfields. Although the battle lasted a month, its turning point occurred early on, starting on the second day. At this point, the Americans had established a thin beachhead, taking significant losses. Exhausted and weakened, they were vulnerable; the Japanese held the high ground. My father, then a first lieutenant, described his battalion’s situation: “…the physical condition of the men was poor. Despite shipboard exercise, the exertion, nervous tension, lack of sleep, food, and water, and the numerous casualties all combined to drain away strength. I do not believe that we sank lower at any time during the campaign…. We had been fighting uphill for more than 48 hours.” A sort of battlefield stasis had developed, and, while “higher
command continually ordered attacks,” they lacked coordination and amounted to little. The officers of the 1st Battalion devised a plan that would concentrate available tanks in a mile-and-a-half advance with infantry following in close support. My father writes: “I climbed into Major Neiman’s tank to act as liaison between the armor and the foot troops, and we started forward in the early afternoon.” For the next 36 hours, my father “liaised” from various tanks, providing the missing coordination, and, in doing so, offering himself as a target. His Navy Cross citation reads: “By his continued heroic efforts, his apparent disregard for his own safety, his intelligence, initiative and intrepidity, he was largely responsible for the organization and successful execution of two critical tank-infantry advances during the early stages of fighting for Saipan Island. “On the third day of fighting, not only did Lt. Stott organize a coordinated tank, amphibian tank, and infantry attack by braving the
front line to personally contact each unit commander, but he maintained excellent coordination between the infantry and tanks by frequently talking with various infantry officers under fire, thereby allowing them to direct the tanks to specific targets and keep advancing at the proper speed and direction. “On the following day, Lt. Stott helped coordinate a similar attack, this time riding in an amphibian tank. During the course of the attack the amphibian tank was hit and set afire by a large caliber shell. Though two men were killed and he himself consider ably shaken by a concussion, Lt. Stott climbed out of the burning tank and continued on foot to help coordinate the ultimately successful attack. This continued attention to duty with utter disregard for his own safety was in keeping with the highest tradition on the U.S. Naval Service.” —Frederic “Sandy” Stott ’67 with his father’s own words.