The West Point experience is designed to be a refining crucible, vetting one’s ability to perform as an Army officer under pressure, and, if necessary, in combat. The baptism of fire of  Dr. Thomas Joseph Brennan, Jr. was hotter than most. Never a model ca­det, particularly short on spit and polish and somewhat nonconformist, he was often at odds with the “system.” As a result, he joined the Century Club, walking 154 hours on the area, to include June Week. In spite of his notoriety, those fortunate enough to call him friend knew him as a man with a sharp wit, a great sense of humor, and an iron will who was able to look adversity in the face and spit in its eye. Tom proved his worthiness to be an officer time after time at the Academy and then proved his commissioning was no accident on the field of battle in Vietnam, earning the Silver Star, four Bronze Stars, and the Purple Heart.

The son of Thomas J. and Blanche Brennan, Tom, or “TJ,” came to West Point from Richmond Hill, Queens, NY, appoint­ed by Rep. Seymour Halpern, 6th District. He was in Company A-4 for two years, until reorganization sliced members from three companies to form D-4.

As a cadet, being Tom’s friend paid par­ticular dividends on trips into the city. Tom could stretch our $30 monthly allowance at places with the best deli sandwiches, and, of course, the best drinking holes. He enjoyed math, literature and philosophy, particu­larly Camus, whose famous quote, “I rebel; therefore I exist,” defined a part of Tom. So intelligent yet it often appeared he con­sidered studying wasted effort. Nicknamed “the Oracle” for his late night wanderings, wrapped in a sheet, muttering a chant to conjure up a term paper the night before it was due, Tom always delivered. Another tal­ent was falling asleep, everywhere. In fact, he became famous for asking a question of a guest speaker, then falling asleep during the answer. Firstie year, Tom chose Field Artillery with an initial assignment to the 101st Airborne in Vietnam. After graduation and officer basic, he opted out of other train­ing and skipped the usual stateside assign­ment to hasten his deployment.

Prior to Vietnam, Tom ushered at a classmate’s wedding. About 3:00 a.m., the classmate’s father received a call that Tom’s head had gone through the windshield in a car accident, but he was at the police station. When the father arrived, Tom was on a first name basis with everyone, laughing and tell­ing stories. No charges were filed; he was just that likeable.

Tom reported to Vietnam on 12 Jan 1970, perhaps the first in our class to arrive in country, and was a forward observer with A/2-506 Infantry in the A Shau Valley. On March 12, after a helicopter assault onto Fire Support Base Ripcord, he was awarded the Silver Star for adjusting artillery while under intense automatic weapons and mortar fire. Of note, our classmate and Tom’s friend from “area” days, Bill Pahissa (KIA, 22 Jul 1970), joined the same company two weeks before Tom was reassigned to be battery ex­ecutive officer. At the siege of FSB Ripcord (the subject of several books), he earned the Bronze Star for valor and the Purple Heart on 16 July for moving wounded to cover and fighting an ammunition fire during a mortar attack. Men who served with him all report they admired and respected him, not for his rank, but his calming effect, courage under fire, and caring lead­ership. Once, after he and his men had been up all night on fire missions, a captain vis­ited and his first com­ment was a criticism of paper in the defensive wire. In his colorful, New Yorker way, Tom ran him off, to cheers from his men.

Next, he instruct­ed at the Chaplain School, Ft. Hamilton, NY, and, while there, was the voice of comfort for Bill Pahissa’s girlfriend in New York City. Tom volun­teered for a second tour in Vietnam and was assigned to MACV AdvisoryTeam 66, Delta Region. As he departed Vietnam in March, 1973, he met Nuong Le working at the out-processing center at Ton Son Nhut Airbase. After corresponding for years, she became a refugee and ultimately his wife. Next, there was brief assignment at Ft. Sill, followed by a year with the 2nd Infantry Division in Korea before Tom left the service in August 1974.

Tom moved back home to New York City, until attending Yale Medical School, 1978–82, where he and Nuong were mar­ried during his second year. Those at Yale with Tom remember him as courteous to a fault, never acting anything but equal to his younger classmates, while being a cynical, but needed, shot of vinegar to those yet to experience life’s hardships. He amused every­one with hilariously animated tirades about things others were afraid to say. True to form, in a pediatrics safety lecture, it was said cleaning agents should not be stored under the sink. Tom stood and disagreed, saying the parents should train children properly. And how ironic is it that the cadet who fell asleep so readily became an anesthesiologist?

Tom completed his internship at Yale New Haven Hospital, his residency at Johns Hopkins, and a fellowship at Baylor. He and Nuong then moved to Vero Beach, FL, to continue his practice. A fellow anesthesiolo­gist who worked with Tom his last eight years recalls he was caring toward his patients and tireless in completing his duties, but chose to live a very private social life. He died while at home, of a heart attack or aneurism, and is survived by Nuong Le and his brother John of New York City.

—Skells, Cappiello, Fagan, Edwards, Gelineau— A-4/D-4 classmates