The Army Draws Strength from Diversity
There’s no better example than Maj. Gen. Fred A. Gorden
NEXT WEEK, I’LL TRAVEL BACK to my alma mater, West Point. My class, the Class of 1975, serves as what is called the fifty-year affiliate class to the graduating Class of 2025. Our class has walked the last four years with this newest class of graduates, mentoring them, helping them face the rigors of cadet life, and offering advice as they prepare for their eventual commitment to our Army. It’s a great program, and it will culminate on May 24 when several of us will hand the gold bars representing their achieved rank to all those new second lieutenants after they receive their diplomas. I’ve also been asked to administer the oath of office to several young cadets I’ve come to know over the past four years.
It’s always an honor to swear in new officers, to hear them pledge to “support and defend the Constitution against all enemies, foreign and domestic.” But this year, the moment carries a particular poignancy.
Just days ago, I learned of the passing of Maj. Gen. (Ret.) Fred A. Gorden—a friend, a mentor, and a trailblazer whose legacy looms large within the Long Gray Line, though far too few know his name.
Maj. Gen. Gorden was a pioneer. He was the only black cadet to graduate in the Class of 1962, the first black commandant of cadets at West Point in the late 1980s, and commander of the 25th Infantry Division “Tropic Lightning.” A soldier’s soldier, he was revered by those who served under his command. In his quiet, dignified way, he embodied the best of what we strive to be as soldiers who wear the cloth of our country: disciplined, humble, and relentlessly competent, with an unwavering focus on character, people, and mission.
But beyond all this, Maj. Gen. Gorden had a deep passion for telling the story of those who came before him—the Buffalo Soldiers of the 9th and 10th Cavalry Regiments. His wife’s relatives served in those units, and he wanted to ensure they were forever honored.
The Buffalo Soldiers were the all-black cavalry units created after the Civil War, when the military was still segregated. According to the National Park Service, “American Plains Indians who fought against these soldiers referred to the black cavalry troops as ‘buffalo soldiers’ because of their dark, curly hair, which resembled a buffalo’s coat.” They were so renowned for their discipline, experience, and excellence that in 1907 a small number of soldiers from their regiment were assigned to train West Point cadets in equitation and tactics, a responsibility they held until 1947. These black soldiers trained generations of officers, including those who would lead American forces in both world wars—Hap Arnold, George Patton, Omar Bradley, Dwight Eisenhower, and Mark Clark, among many more.
After his retirement, Maj. Gen. Gorden led an effort to ensure the legacy of the Buffalo Soldiers would not be forgotten. He spearheaded a campaign to raise millions of dollars for the Buffalo Soldier Monument that now stands proudly at West Point.
To help him in that effort, Maj. Gen. Gorden called me a year after my retirement. “Mark,” he said, “I want you to join the committee.” I hesitated. “Sir, why are you asking a retired white guy who never served in the 9th or 10th Cavalry to help?” His answer was simple and true to his gracious and professional nature: “You know how important a legacy can be to the next generation.”
That was all it took. I was in.
That statue was dedicated a few years ago, and now it holds a position of honor near one of the entry gates to the Military Academy. Every year at commissioning, newly minted officers—especially black officers—gather with family and friends at the Buffalo Soldier monument to take their oaths and reflect on the legacy of those who came before them. They know the regimental history. The bravery of the units. The contributions to an Army during a time of segregation. But most won’t know Fred Gorden’s name or story. Next week, when I visit, I’ll make sure at least some of them do. I expect they’ll stand a little taller when they hear about who he was and what he did.
MAJ. GEN. GORDEN’S LIFE REMINDS US that diversity is not a favor granted nor a checkbox ticked. It is part of the very fabric of our Army’s strength. Leaders come in every color and from every background. The Army, after all, reflects the nation we serve. Through quiet perseverance, insistence on excellence, and steadfast service, leaders like Fred Gorden leave legacies that endure far beyond their time in uniform.
In an era when some question the value of diversity, Maj. Gen. Gorden’s story serves as a clear and necessary reminder: Diversity contributes to and strengthens our readiness. It enriches our profession. The Buffalo Soldiers trained the officers who led American forces to victory. Maj. Gen. Gorden broke barriers and built bridges, ensuring their legacy would inspire future generations.
As I stand with the Class of 2025, I’ll think of many things. My own time in the Army. My relationship with those who will lead the force in the future. But this year, I’ll also think of Maj. Gen. Gorden. And I’ll think of Mrs. Gorden, whose grace and strength shone through when I called to offer condolences. And I’ll think of every soldier—past, present, and future—whose service makes us better, even when history takes too long to recognize their contributions.
Fred Gorden’s life was a testament to leadership forged in quiet dignity, shaped by fierce dedication, and lived in faithful service to the nation and its people. His legacy is represented by the Buffalo Soldier now cast in bronze at West Point, but more importantly, it lives on in the cadets who will pass by that monument, take their oath, and carry forward the ideals he exemplified.
Rest well, Fred. You made us all better.
Because of you, we all stand taller.
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