Near to the barren, lonely hill in Iceland, where the plane crashed in which he and his staff were en route to inspect the local defenses, lies the mortal remains of Frank Maxwell Andrews, Class of 1906—U.S.M.A. On May 3, 1943, at the very summit of a splendid career, with the rank of Lieutenant General, and with the assignment as Commanding General of the U.S. Forces in the European Theatre of Operations—wearing very proudly the Distinguished Flying Cross, the Distinguished Service Medal, and many others designating important and superior service, or recording the honors conferred by foreign governments—he passed suddenly and bravely into the great beyond. He would have preferred to have led the American Forces into the Continent on their second European Crusade for Righteousness among Nations, in accordance with those great plans which he left for his successor. The Nation will not forget the debt, immeasurable and unpayable, which it owes to him for the great service he furnished and for the plans he left to guide us toward victory.
Hereafter, we should like to place in the record of the Association of Graduates, facts and memories of Frank Andrews—from the class archives and publications as well as from the flies which the Nation has kept of his illustrious service.
Frank Maxwell Andrews was born in Nashville, Tennessee, February 3, 1884, under the long shadow of Andrew Jackson, and he was educated in the traditions of that great soldier-statesman, and also in the many fine traditions of the deep South.
He came to the United States Military Academy at West Point July 31, 1902, when he was a little over eighteen years of age, along with forty-four other “Juliettes” The 71 June members of his class never let him forget this month-and-a-half inferiority in military experience.
For those of us who like to think that “the tree grows as the twig is bent”; that cadet days are a promise of Army success or failure—let us record here that Frank Andrews was a shy, gentle, fun-loving cadet, with a long, Southern drawl; that he loved horses; that he was first man on the first team of the 1905 Polo Season at West Point playing along with Jonathan M. Wainwright (General, formerly in captivity of the Japanese), Adna Chaffee (Lt. General, the builder of the Armored Force, now deceased), and George Quekemeyer (General Pershing’s personal aide during the World War, and afterward, who died while Commandant of Cadets of the United States Military Academy). What a great team this was!
Let’s record, also, that for four long years Frank Andrews stayed in the very middle of his class; that he became an acting-Sergeant in his first class camp, and was “busted” from that high rank; that, one time, at least, like so many other distinguished members, he walked the hard, round gravel of the area barracks, and achieved the distinguished title of “A.B.” But, all the while, he ran smoothly and carefully—gaining his experience, saving his strength—like a racehorse waiting for the last lap, in which he could, with conserved power and increased knowledge, take the rail and cross the finish-line ahead.
We, who played with him as a cadet, like to remember, also, the fun we had together—things which are not recorded in the annals of the Academy. We like to remember the practice march to Fishklll, when the “Tacs” just looked in the pup tents and failed to count them in the night. Frank, along with a few others, took down the tents on the end of the line, in which we lived; parked them in the woods; and spent the night investigating the neighboring villages. Then, toward morning, came back; put up the end tents; and all were present and accounted for.
We like to remember the messages sent by difficult wig wag from the tree-tops around West Point, when Frank Andrews was a scout for our little maneuvers. We like to remember that he liked grits, corn bread and sweet potatoes; and we called his grits “Georgia ice cream”. We like to remember his turning out on New Year’s Eve of the first class year, along with “Kaiser” Wilhelm and Alex Gillespie—beating the Hell Cats drums, and joining in a gay and raucous yell for the new 1906.
When he graduated, and was commissioned into his chosen branch, he started out for Manila, Joining the 8th Cavalry; returned with it in a year to Yosemite Park (under his father-in-law to be, Major Henry T. Allen). He went with the 8th Cavalry for a couple of years, to Fort Huachuca; a couple of years at Schofield Barracks, in Hawaii (as Aide to General “Monty” McComb); a couple more years at Fort Bliss, Texas, and Fort Ethan Allen, Vermont (during which time he served under General Dickman, who led the A.E.F. in Germany).
At Ethan Allen, he prepared to take his regiment into the World War, but, thinking the 2nd Cavalry wouldn’t get overseas, he transferred to the Air Corps, then named the Signal Corps, and spent his war service passing from 1st Lieutenant up to Lieutenant Colonel in the study of aviation and its use as a war weapon. At the end of the war, he knew more about land planes, hydroplanes and aerial warfare than any man in the United States Army, and took over General Mitchell’s air command in Coblenz under Major General H. T. Allen, the Commanding General of the A.E.F. in Germany. On account of his knowledge of aviation, he went to duty directly in the Chief’s office of the newly-formed Air Corps. He took over the first great Air Corps training center, at Kelly Field, as its Executive and leader. When it became the advanced flying school, he became its Commandant. He helped establish the principles of air education—not only the part which deals with flying an airplane, but also the part which deals with fighting in the air and the use of bombs and armament and the development of armored planes with strong fire power.
In 1928, he was ready to begin his studies as a Staff Officer. At the Air Corps Tactical School, at Langley Field, Virginia, he prepared for Leavenworth. In 1929, he graduated from the Command and General Staff School. After commanding the famous 1st Pursuit Group, at Selfridge Field, he went to the Army War College, graduating in 1933, and he joined the General Staff Corps in 1934 and 1935.
His excellent Staff work caused his selection as one of the Brigadiers of the Air Corps, to undertake its new organization. Before the year was over, he was made a Major General, and organized, and commanded the General Headquarters, Air Force, of the United States Army at Langley Field. For four years, he continuously studied and improved the fighting Air Force, making it a striking unit which could be ordered to any point of the world for effective action.
Being an ardent exponent of the flying fortress, his insistence to have it recognized brought about his punishment, and he was sent to Fort Sam Houston, demoted to a Colonelcy—a lesser fate than his great friend “Billy” Mitchell, suffered.
With a change of Command, his contentions were recognized. He was brought back promptly, again, as a Brigadier General of the Regular Army, and assigned to the War Department General Staff as Asst. Chief of Staff, G-3, in July, 1939—the first airman in the U.S. Army to have such an assignment. His interest in the air defense of the Panama Canal won him that Command in 1941, and he became Lieutenant General, Commander of the Caribbean Defense Command.
General Andrews’ preparations for security around the Panama Canal, without doubt, prevented an attack there similar to the disaster at Pearl Harbor. He was aware that a successful attack on the Canal would set back the war program of the United States months and years. We give him credit, too, for his quick response to the tender of Ecuadorean facilities, by President Arroyo del Rio, after Pearl Harbor. General Andrews had his troops at the Galapagos Islands and in Salinas, Ecuador, within four days after permission was given, protecting, at once, all Southern approaches to Panama. Secretary Stimson said, “I have keenly remembered the wisdom and intelligence he exhibited in our conferences over the difficult and vital problems of the defense of the Canal”.
In 1942, he was made Commanding General of the U.S. Forces in the Middle East, at Cairo, and helped the 8th Army beat Rommel back in his initial defeat at, El Alemein, and on his disastrous retreat toward Tunis.
In February, 1943, he took over the greater Command of the American Forces in the European Theatre of Operations. From this new point of vantage, in England, he directed the intensive destruction of German factories and facilities by the American Air Force, on the continent and at the ports in the Atlantic. He was in the midst of the inspection of this new Command, when, in the Iceland fog, trying to find its way to Reykjavik, his plane crashed on a lonely hill.
As a General, the summation of his character by Henry McLemore, the well-known columnist, seems best of all the many fine articles which appeared in the press all over the Nation. He said:
“Lt. Gen. Frank M. Andrews wore his stars as lightly as a corporal wears his stripes. As the Commanding General of the American Forces in the European Theatre he was the main actor in the show, but he preferred the wings to the footlights.
“There was no fuss or feathers about the man; none whatsoever. He was the same to everybody and he was the same on Tuesday as he was on Monday. His complete efficiency would get results at any cost. His toughness was hidden behind a gracious manner, a quick smile and a pair of twinkling eyes. He worked 12, 15 or 18 hours a day, but he always had time to talk to those who wanted to see him.”
Of the many telegrams and letters which came to Mrs. Andrews at the time of General Andrews’ death, these are most indicative of the high regard of the officers of the Nation:
General George Marshall, Chief of Staff, U.S. Army, said: “He was a great leader and in his post abroad was on the way to rendering a tremendous service to the Allied Cause”
Lt. General H. H. Arnold, Commanding General, Army Air Forces, said: “His fine character and high ideals will be long remembered by those fortunate enough to have shared his friendship. Equally so will be his brilliant leadership and absolute devotion to the advancement of aviation—one of my greatest regrets will always be that he had to go before he could see the full results of his efforts”.
Major General James Ulio, the Adjutant General, said: “The Nation can ill afford to lose the services of such a distinguished officer and comrade. All of us here feel that no one can take his place”.
Mr. Henry L. Stimson, the Secretary of War, said: “We shall miss his energetic leadership in the European Theatre.”
On March 16, 1914, Frank Andrews and Jeannette Allen, the daughter of Major General Allen of the U.S. Army, drawn together by their common love of horses and the game of polo, were united in marriage to make a great team—known all over the Army and everywhere else where planes and horses are loved. Over the years, there were born three children: Josephine (now married to Captain Hiette Williams, A.C.); Jean (who is living with her mother in Florida); and Allen (a Lieutenant in the Air Corps, on duty in the South). Jeannette Allen Andrews, familiarly known as “Johnnie”, has made a home at Miami Beach for this devoted family.
Whatever may be the opinion of him as a, General—we, of his Class, knew him somewhat differently—as a classmate and friend. Our estimate goes something like this: When the evening wore on, and friends gathered around, Frank, like the rest of us, was fond of getting out the poker chips at a friendly table, and using the game to keep his friends around and amused. He would tease and banter them, tell yarns, recall great moments, draw out first one and then another on an important question of the day—until the players were comfortably satisfied with the evening’s game and conversation. And—when the banker cashed in the chips at the end, Frank was not always behind, in spite of some attempts to fill “inside straights”, to “draw to lone aces”, or draw “five new cards”. The best thing we ever learned from him, in the way of leadership, was his idea to keep fresh for each new battle; to be fully prepared mentally and physically—like a prize fighter going into the ring—and this advice, which he gave us, he always practiced. He held in a special way the loyalty and affection of all who served under his command. Through many years of close association, we seldom have seen him tired.
And now, on the edge of the Iceland mountains, as a great monument to American leadership, lies this body of a great American soldier. Now that peace has come again, his contribution to the conquering of that peace will be appreciated by all the world. Our hope is that his country has learned, from his life and experience, that it is necessary to look forward, always; to make proper provision for the obvious future; to listen to those who have felt and seen and heard the machines of war, in order to plan their use; and, above all, to keep enough men, adequately trained, to lead the Nation through its battles to victory.
—Charles O. Mettler