Two indelible realities mark a man's character. First is how he handles the course of his life. Albert Sidney Britt Ill saw his time on earth, as depicted in his words and framed by his actions, as an exciting journey; a grand ad-venture. In fact, his very earliest recollections were of war and moving. His father was called to active duty when Sid was just four. The challenge of being a child in a soldier's family turned my life into an adventure. I lived where the division lived I moved when the division moved Like a good soldier, I did not complain when they told us it was time to go. Soon Sid became the soldier with a family He and Jerre eloped at the end of his graduation leave, launching their life together driving an MG sports car from Georgia to Ft. Knox, sitting on suitcases. In my lifetime, most of the first half of it was on the move. Jerre, Will, Sid (IV), and I moved 21 times in 26years. We moved so often that we began leaving our furniture in storage, once for more than five years. At least one person in Sid's direct line of forebears fought in each of America's wars. He himself saw combat in the jungles of Viet Nam and guarded freedom's frontier in the Cold War. (His elder son, Will, deployed to Iraq in 2003, extending the family's string into the 21st Century.) But first on Sid's list of duty stations was Korea, a true "hardship" assignment as he boarded a troop ship early in 1958. If you are 22 years old newly married and ordered away from your wife for 16 months, that is an emergency One week out into the Pacific, we received the news that the Secretary of the Army had just cut the tour to 13 months. Morale soared Following graduate studies and mentoring by Sir Basil Liddell Hart, Sid taught military history at West Point and authored his first book. Tours on high-level staffs alternated with educational stints at military colleges. Troop assignments included five years in battalion and brigade command. A shadow fell across those otherwise rewarding times: early in their marriage, Jerre was stricken with multiple sclerosis. The growing responsibility of caring for her eventually obliged him to retire before his time. He unflinchingly accepted that detour in his voyage of life, turning it into a quiet episode deeply touching, even inspirational, to those who observed it. Said a West Point classmate: "Sid's gallantry in dealing with Jerre's tragic illness exceeds description...Sid's faithful daily presence was characterized by charm, flirtation and his essential optimism, distilling the great moments and their memories into what was otherwise a terrible, ironic, unfair, and unrelenting present." The same joyous intellect that shaped Sid's years as a soldier carried him to similar success in his second career. Armed with a new MBA and experience gained in leading a consulting team, he founded his own consulting firm, serving clients in the U.S. and Europe. He evinced pardonable pride in his two successful sons, one a businessman and one a lawyer. His interest in military history evolved into enterprise—he directed tours to explore the 1944 landings in Normandy and later established an AOG endowment to sponsor staff rides by USMA cadets to the invasion sites. Ever active religiously; he created and managed a major endowment benefiting his local church. He often spoke publicly and continued to write, prolifically and profoundly. Columns, articles, reviews, books—all carried his trademark blend of clarity and effervescence, spiced with humor and a uniquely mischievous wit. Immersed more and more in travel and reflection, he came to savor the world in ways almost mystical. For me, the choice gift was the lure of new places, the beauty of Europe, Korea, Southeast Asia, and the American West; the excitement of Yokohama, Singapore, Manila, London, Paris, Berlin, Vienna, and Santa Fe. I'll never forget those places and the adventures I found there. You can't see all that if you stay home all the time. He displayed admirable perspicacity in convincing Elinor to marry him, a lovely lady and the perfect soul mate four one so engaged in life and the larger world. For Elinor, foaming is a part of her life force, nourishing her thought and art. For me, and for he, travel is a campaign propelled by curiosity always to find a new place, a new idea. The second indelible reality marking a man's character is how he handles his death. Early in 2003 Sid was diagnosed with cancer. He gallantly battled the disease most of that year. But when the consummate Napoleonic historian came to realize that the grueling fight was at best a delaying action, he took the lead in making final arrangements. Those included typically modest guidance for the writing of this memorial article: My only guidance: focus on achievements; don't mention rank or decorations. His major worry at the end was not for himself but for his son in Iraq. Sid kept his grip on life beyond the point of passing, waiting to know his son was safe. He could no longer talk when Will called on the way home, so his younger son, Sidney; held a phone to his ear. Relieved, he relaxed at last—and died. Before the onset of his final illness, Sid wrote in his inimitable way: The second half of my life has been in a forward bivouac, within striking distance of the rest of the world Elinor and I are still roaming and still exploring new geography and old history We're not at the end of the trail yet. Our life is an eager journey an adventure that will never end He was right. Journeys of the spirit never end. Dave Palmer with help from Sid
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