King ’17 Remembers Jackson ’19

I play football at Army. I am part of a brotherhood. A family. I am brothers not only with my teammates, but also with every Army player who came before me. We are playing for them at the same time we are playing for each other. We bleed together on the football field before we bleed together on the battlefield. That’s not just talk. That’s very real. A West Point graduate, Maj. Andrew D. Byers, was killed in action last month in Kunduz, Afghanistan. Everybody who goes to a service academy knows the stakes. But I never thought I would lose one of my brothers while we were still at school together — while we were still teammates. West Point prepares you for many things, but not for something like that. It was Sunday morning, September 11. It was sunny and warm and I was feeling good. No, scratch that. We were feeling good. We had just beaten Rice 31–14 the day before in our home-opener. Army was 2–0 for the first time in 20 years. And as I walked up the hill to Michie Stadium for practice that morning, my mind was already turning to UTEP, our next opponent. Practices the day after a game are normally pretty intense. Our day off is Monday, so we try to go hard on Sunday. We’re only in helmets, but we get after it. Something was different this time, though. Instead of going straight to lift before our team meeting, our coaches told us to go to the auditorium — Coach Monken wanted to talk to us. I took my seat in the meeting room along with the rest of the guys. Something was up, but we had no idea what. Read More