Semper Fidelis                                                                          

General Robert H. Barrow, USMC (ret), the 27^th Commandant of the Marine Corps (1979-1983), died 30 October 2008 about 1 p.m. at his home in St. Francisville, Louisiana. He was buried there next to his wife Patty, who died in 2005. General Barrow’s five children were all present.

Among those attending the funeral on November 3 were General James Conway, present Commandant of the Marine Corps and former Commandants General Al Gray and General Carl Mundy and more than a dozen other Marine generals. General Barrow’s casket was escorted by three platoons of Marines in dress blue uniforms and a Marine band which marched to the graveside with muffled drums. An artillery piece fired a 19 gun salute and a Marine squad fired three volleys.

The general’s passing received extensive media coverage, including the New York Times, the Washington Post, the Baton Rouge Advocate and the Beaufort (South Carolina) Gazette.

News of the general’s death was quickly circulated among Marines and their friends. General Conway emailed a list of generals, admirals and friends of the Corps on the afternoon of the 30^th. Other Marines passed on the emails, often adding their own personal memories of the exemplary service of General Barrow.

A group of Tulane University Marines in the late 1950s learned early of the general’s passing. We all shared with him service at the NROTC. About two dozen strong, these Marines have been assembling in recent years since General Barrow’s retirement in 1983. We met in places close to the general’s home for a few days to celebrate his birthday, 5 February. In 2006, our last meeting, we assembled at the NROTC Unit in New Orleans to dedicate a portrait and a plaque to our teacher, friend, mentor and commander. The NROTC building is the same one used during World War II to train Naval officers.

We exchange stories of our lives since leaving Tulane.  We are scattered over the U.S., businessmen and professionals of various kinds. Though we are all over 70 years old we constantly remind each other of those days a half century past.

U.S. Senator Jim Webb of Virginia was there in St. Francisville on 3 November. Two Medal of Honor recipients, veterans of service with the general in Vietnam,` were there.

President-elect Barack Obama telephoned and spoke with LtCol Rob Barrow, USMC (ret), the general’s son who was born in New Orleans.

Those of us who became known as “Barrow’s Tulane Marines” (the general’s phrase) first met him in 1957. Major Robert H. Barrow, tall, slim, broad-shouldered and completely, always correct had come to our New Orleans campus from we knew not where. We approached him with the insatiable curiosity of undergraduates combined with a certain awe that we were contracted to become U.S. Marine second lieutenants in 1959.

He wore a Navy Cross, a Silver Star, and two Bronze Stars among a thick field of other ribbons. It was not too difficult to discover he had been awarded those medals for combat behind the Japanese lines in World War II and the recently concluded war on the Korea peninsula. He fought a guerilla war in China and led Able Company, 1^st Battalion, 1^st Marines in the earliest fighting in Korea, including the legendary battle for Hill 1081 in December 1950.

But where had he been between Korea and New Orleans? Only recently did we learn, after 50 years, he was leading Chinese guerillas again in naval actions off Taiwan, secret operations he never mentioned.

After Tulane we all went our separate ways. Some left active duty as soon as their obligation of three years was fulfilled. Some transferred to the reserves. Only a few of us stayed in the active duty, regular Marine Corps. Those of us who did stay only occasionally crossed paths with General Barrow; but all knew what he was doing. He remained the example for his students of 1957. On rare occasions we contacted him directly for advice. When General Barrow became Commandant we were as proud as anyone — but none of us sought special privilege.

And when he retired in 1983 (after 41 years active duty)` a U.S. Senate committee asked him what did he intend to do, suggesting his success as a Marine might be transferred to some prestigious role in Washington, D.C.,` General Barrow said no, he was returning to Louisiana, where it was so quiet you could “hear a leaf fall on water.” (He did, however, accept appointment to the President’s Foreign Intelligence Advisory Board, a part time position.)

General Barrow died 30 October, just prior to a presidential election, the Marine Corps’s 233^rd birthday on November 10, and Veterans Day 2008 on November 11. The rush of events swept over us but Marines are accustomed to riding the wave of history. General Barrow radiated the intellectual curiosity of a man who never avoided history’s embrace.

Major General Ron Richard, USMC (ret) and Col. Wayne Bienvenu, USMCR (ret) arranged for a moment of silence among the thousands attending the LSU-Tulane football game on 1 November in Baton Rouge.

As the general’s casket passed through St. Francisville the townspeople stopped and saluted the passing of the legendary general.

He lectured us in the spring of 1959 on Stonewall Jackson’s Valley Campaign. We attended closely to his words and when we looked at him I saw Douglas Southall Freeman’s Robert E. Lee, the very model of military chivalry, for those of us from the South.

In his homily, the Reverend John Senette of Grace Episcopal Church likened the general to Geoffrey Chaucer’s Christian Knight in the 14^th century Canterbury Tales. “Robert Barrow was a Christian knight, worthy of honor, who lived Semper Fidelis: always faithful.”

The Reverend Senette and his congregation knew the general late in his life, when “the famous knight ended his questing and came among us to end his days. But although General Barrow had put aside his sword, he had not put aside his chivalry.”

We print the homily in full below because we are startled at how well the Bob Barrow seen by the priest at the end of his life describes the General Barrow we knew for a half century. For that matter Geoffrey Chaucer knew it too, 600 years ago. Chaucer’s Prologue concludes, “He was a truly perfect, gentle knight.” General Barrow was “Semper Fidelis” — faithful and honorable, to God, friends, family and the Corps.