Bonding over service and Stanford, many reunited for the first time in a world much changed over 50 years
Under the Class of 1966 tent at Reunion Homecoming, more than 60 people gathered this year for a special mini-reunion, one unusual in being for a group designated not during its time at Stanford, but after.
They were the Class of ’66 military veterans, men who served amid great turmoil during what was arguably America’s most unpopular war. Facing a draft, some enlisted to choose their service, whether or not they favored the war.
“We were all here during a time of uncertainty. It was hard to discern what’s coming next,” said Ben Stolpa, reunion co-chairman of the Class of 1966 and a former dental officer at Fort Benning, Ga.
Many of the vets had never been to a Reunion Homecoming before Patrick Brady, ’66, a former Army first lieutenant with the 41st Civil Affairs Company in Vietnam, organized their mini-reunion.
I’ve seen the Ho Chi Minh Trail. I’ve walked the Ho Chi Minh Trail.—Steve Leopold, ’66
Working his connections, Brady found 136 living members of the Class of 1966 who served in the military during the Vietnam era. At least 17 class members who served are deceased, said Brady. None apparently was lost in the Vietnam War itself.
The veterans gathered to share stories and, because they were on Stanford soil, to compare lessons learned in the military with those learned at Stanford. As they lingered into the larger Class of ’66’s breakfast hour, more veterans not on Brady’s list trickled in.
“I wanted to stop living off my parents’ money,” said Steve Leopold, ’66, a Stanford Daily editor later held as prisoner of war for 58 months in Cambodia and North Vietnam. “To go and grow up, to become a man.
“It just ended up a whole lot differently than I intended.”
The Stanford veterans aren’t typical of the American military experience, Stolpa said. For one thing, nearly all were officers – including at least two colonels, including Leopold, and Rear Adm. William L. Putnam, commander of naval and special forces in the northern Persian Gulf during Operations Desert Shield and Desert Storm.
For another, “they have a positive attitude,” Stolpa said. He traced their optimism to their time at Stanford.
That morning, I sensed a common understanding and acceptance, of soldiers and protesters, of military and civilians, and of the vicissitudes of life that sometimes challenge us to search out the best in ourselves as well as others.
—Ben Stolpa, ’66
Twin brothers George and David Bardsley both served in the Navy. George, who became a career naval officer, commanded the USS Spadefish, a nuclear-powered attack submarine, and the USS Ohio, a strategic missile-launching submarine.
His brother, David, served on the technical staff of Adm. Hyman G. Rickover in the Atomic Energy Commission, helping develop propulsion systems for Nimitz-class aircraft carriers.
“Essentially, it was a second master’s degree in organizational behavior,” David Bardsley said. The leadership opportunity was, he said, “an unexpectedly wonderful experience.”
Mick Lerner, ’66, remembers receiving his Army commission in Frost Amphitheater the day after graduation, also in Frost.
He was on the commanding general’s staff of the 7th Infantry Division in South Korea, where about 15 percent of the Vietnam-era Army served. When Gen. William Enemark, ’35, took over the command, Lerner taught the divisional band to play “Come Join the Band,” Stanford’s fight song. Lerner knew Enemark was an alum because he had roomed in Wilbur Hall with Enemark’s son, Peter Enemark, ’68, MA ’74, PhD ’78.
Whenever he goes back to Frost, Lerner said – most recently for Marc Tessier-Lavigne’s inauguration – “it’s very emotional for me. I get tears in my eyes.”
Leopold described his Stanford self as “a gung-ho student who did regular student things.”
“I was on the Daily all four years and was editor. I got into Harvard and decided not to go.”
Surprising himself, Leopold became gung-ho Army. He joined the 5th Special Forces Group (Airborne) and was captured in May 1968 a mile from the Cambodian border.
“Had I been further into Vietnam, I’m sure I would have been killed. We were near a R&R station for the North Vietnamese army, so fire was relatively light. The guy with me was killed.”
Leopold was held for 24 months in solitary confinement — par for the course for officers, he said, “under ‘the humane and lenient treatment of the Front.’”
From 1969 through Christmas 1972, Leopold was held with prisoners captured in the south, but was segregated from the pilots captured in the North until being moved to the Hanoi Hilton during the Christmas Bombing of 1972.
He was listed as missing in action, so his family received no information.
“It’s different to be missing,” Leopold said. “I still have grievances against the regime that have nothing to do with the rightness or the wrongness of the war.”
An American raid on a nearby prison (which turned out to be empty) had the “salutary effect” of improving his own conditions: He was moved from a darkened cell to one with light.
The particularity of his experience colored his life for years after.
In 1980, he said, “I found I actually missed jumping out of airplanes, so I joined the Army Reserve.
“Indeed, my only bonding with war veterans was when I joined the 12th Special Forces (Reserves) in 1980,
and several of the members of that unit (which had 1,000 troops in 26 states) were Vietnam veterans.”
Leopold retired in 1997 as a colonel. Along the way, he maintained a law practice and served three terms (1977—1983) in the Wisconsin state legislature.
“I got as good an education about life along the way as I did at Stanford,” Leopold said. “And I liked Stanford. I was happy there.
“But it was an education of a different sort.”
Watch video of Steve Leopold’s interview for the Library of Congress’ Veterans History Project.
Learn about Stanford’s resources for veterans, including its Office for Military Affiliated Communities, the Stanford Veteran Accelerator summer program for veterans in their first two years of college and the Graduate School of Business’ Stanford Ignite program for post-9/11 veterans.