Col Maurice Francis Daly USMA Class of 1927 and the All Time-All America team of manhood

USMA ^

[robowombat]

1927 Class Cullum No. 8056 • Jan 21, 1945 • Died in POW ship

This obituary is written with the consoling feeling that hundreds of contemporary West Pointers, who, knew Moe Daly, will sympathize with the difficulty of placing his lovable and striking characteristics in cold print.

Maurice Francis Daly was born in Hartford, Connecticut, on July 20, 1901. That his Irish immigrant parents, Mr. and Mrs. Michael Daly of West Hartford, Connecticut, knew how to rear children, is borne out by the facts that our “Moe" graduated from Connecticut Agricultural College before entering West Point; his sister, Katherine (Mrs. Cornelius B. Prior), was a trained nurse; his brother, John, graduated from Connecticut Agricultural College, the Foreign Service School of Georgetown, from a Washington law school, and is now a staunch member of the Washington, D. C., police force; and his youngest brother, James, graduated from the United States Naval Academy in 1930, and served in the Pacific Ocean Area in World War II as a Lieutenant Colonel of Marine Aviation.

Starting his career with other plebes on July 2, 1923, Moe Daly rapidly became known at the Military Academy because he had a fine physique and the coordination to make the “A” football squad. His wide Irish grin, his ready wit, and the peculiar manner in which he held his mouth while punting, quickly attracted attention. He started slowly as the third team fullback, but he finished his playing career as one of the outstanding centers in the long line of excellent players who have centered the ball and backed up the line for West Point. Here is what “Biff" Jones, Class of August, 1917, has to say:

"I was the line coach under Head Coach John McEwan when the decision was made to shift Moe from the backfield to the center position. Although lighter than most centers playing at that time on other major teams, he was equipped with a wiry ruggedness which was entirely adequate to meet the physical demands of the position. His lack of weight was more than compensated for by his smartness and alertness. Through his flair for the appropriate wisecrack and his talent for the practical joke, he contributed greatly to the morale of the Army teams of 1923, 1924, 1925 and 1926.

"He was a natural leader. This talent was fully appreciated by all who came in contact with him on the football squad. It is reported on good authority that he would have been elected captain of the football team in his last year except for his magnanimous and indefatigable electioneering for the other candidate.

"His greatest game was his final one —the Army-Navy game of 1926 in Chicago. The hard running Navy backs kept terrific pressure on our defense all afternoon. I tremble to think of what the score might have been except for the thunderous tackles made by Moe from one side line to the other. I do not have the records in front of me. but I do not see how it would be possible for one man to make more tackles in one game than Moe made that afternoon.

“I am proud of the fact that I, as head coach, brought him back as an assistant coach in 1929 and launched him on his football coaching career which extended 11 years. He had the unique distinction of serving under four head coaches,—myself, Ralph Sasse, Gar Davidson and Bill Wood. This long tenure was a tribute to his technical ability, his industry and his grand personality".

And another of his coaches, John J. McEwan, April, 1917:

“Moe Daly was a truly great football player,—but I remember him not so much for his feats on the gridiron as for his character and wonderful personality. To me he was above all a great friend. It was always a happier world when Moe was around and his tragic death has left an unfillable niche in my cherished memories of West Point. He was of the finest, an irreplaceable Moe!”

While in the Corps his academic work was easy for him, and with little effort he graduated No. 34 in his class. He sang in the Catholic Chapel Choir; he was a fine lacrosse and a rugged hockey player, and he took part in the Hundredth Night Show. The highest cadet rank he attained was corporal. Those who knew him while he was a cadet can testify that with but little effort he would have pushed the first captain for his job. The reason that he didn't was his love and preference for reticence. He preferred the background. In some things, despite his love for anonymity, he was unable to take a secondary role. On graduation his outstanding play in football, lacrosse and hockey earned him the Army Athletic Association sabre presented to the cadet of the First Class who has rendered the most valuable service to athletics during his career as a cadet.

One cannot pass by his cadet career without relating that Moe was a hero to the enlisted men and civilian employees, especially to the employees of the Army Athletic Association, at West Point. Perhaps it was his Irish background, or his unusually rugged defensive play at center for the the Army team which attracted people to him. but more likely it was his friendliness, his wide grin and his humbleness. His popularity with the enlisted men is portrayed by the following incident:

Master Sergeant James Mahan, drum major of the United States Military Academy Band, invited several cadets to a February 22nd dinner at which the band was host. On appearing, the cadet guests were introduced to the assemblage at dinner by the popular Sergeant Mahan, who extolled the virtues and deeds of each cadet as he presented him to the members of the band. Mahan, with a keen sense of what was what, saved the best for the last and merely said: "And, this is old Moe Daly”. The applause was tremendous.

After graduation he won his wings at Brooks Field; graduated from the Air Corps Advanced Flying School at Kelly Field in 1928; and graduated from the Air Corps Flying Instructors School in 1930.

He was a valuable member of the Football Coaching Staff at West Point for 11 seasons ranging from 1929 to 1940. He made many friendships with coaches, players, and civilians during this period.

His classmate, "Gar" Davidson, writes: “In 1929, Moe started a series of seasons as football coach at West Point that was to continue for eleven years. During this period, Moe made a great contribution to the success of West Point football, but great as was his contribution on the athletic field, even greater was the impression that he left in the hearts and minds of all with whom he came into contact.

“He consistently inspired his players to performances beyond their natural abilities and instilled in them qualities that were to stand them in good stead in later years on the field of battle. He was an inspirational leader with a depth of character which left a profound imprint on the generation of West Point football players with whom he came into contact"

Denis J. Mulligan, '24, a warm friend, states:

“Moe had a generous heart, but because of his reticence his generous streak may not be known as well as it might otherwise be. Long ago I picked up a story which I think came from Maxwell Field. While there Moe, ostensibly making a birthday present, gave $100.00 to help out a badly strapped fellow lieutenant and wife who had just borne a child. Another aspect of his character that impressed me was his strong religious leanings. He was very faithful in his church attendance going to extremes in some instances in order to make the down and distance. It was an inspiring life he lived”.

Of Moe's life in the Air Force and early World War II experience, "Rosy" O'Donnell, writes:

“Moe's life in the Air Force paralleled that of most other officers of his time except that each year brought him back to West Point for the football season where he left his indelible mark on cadets and brother officers alike.

“He was a strange and unusual mixture of contradictory characteristics. Because of his care-free and fun-loving attitude, some few thought him irresponsible. Nothing could have been further from the truth. His interest in his flying and ground duties was real, deep, and serious. He was a well-versed, all-round Air Force Officer and was intensely proud of his association with his branch. Inherently bright, he "caught on” quickly and achieved success without apparent effort. This easy accomplishment, coupled with the happy-go-lucky disposition by which he was generally known, misled some who did not know him well.

“When hostilities commenced in December 1941, Moe was stationed at Clark Field in the Philippine Islands. Shortly after the first blow was struck, he was given command of Clark Field. His splendid reaction to adversity, his continuing concern for his men, and his aggressive action in their behalf, will never be forgotten by those who observed him. When it was necessary to retire into the Bataan Peninsula, he continued to give inspiration to all about him through his example of personal courage, strength, wisdom, and cheerfulness. Only those who were present could fully appreciate the importance of his stature in those trying and chaotic days”.

Pete Calyer, Class of 1928, gives this stirring account of Moe on the terrible Death March:

“Moe was one of the finest men I have ever known. I knew him under all kinds of circumstances; as cadets together at West Point; as officers, stationed at West Point, and when we sailed to the Philippines together in 1940 and served together there till the war and then to Bataan and the Death March.

“Moe never changed, no matter what the circumstances, always good natured, thoughtful of others, and efficient. Pressure and tension never showed. He never seemed to think of himself—only of his men and his fellow officers.

“His squadron’s morale was very high in Bataan. On the Death March it was a unit, not a straggling group of individuals. As a result, he was able to obtain water and some cold rice for his men. They aided many others who were worse off than they. Of this group I was one. I had been taken from my regiment for questioning by the Japanese and then dumped on the road five days later and told to walk. I had a broken jaw, a broken arm, and dysentery. Moe’s outfit picked me up along the road at Meriveles. Without Moe I would never have made it out of Bataan. My case was just one of many he helped and we owe our lives to him today".

In the picture of the football “A" men of 1925, Moe is standing beside his friend and classmate T. J. H. Trapnell, who writes about Moe's death:

"After the war started I didn’t see Moe again until he arrived at Camp O’Donnel upon completing the march out of Bataan. From that time unil he died on a prison ship between Formosa and Japan, January 21, 1945, we were together.

“During the six weeks at O’Donnel Moe was a Group Commander. This was a period of demoralization and exhaustion, discipline was non-existent, rations consisted of poorly cooked rice, the daily death rate was extremely high. Moe was suffering from Beri-Beri and could barely walk. Under these difficult conditions Moe's leadership, stamina, keen sense of duty and fairness toward his men were a deciding factor in restoring order and hope to the men in his group.

"Later at Cabanatuan eight of us lived in a small nipa hut for two years. During the day time working barefooted under a one star private or in the long evening hours, when the future seemed hopeless, Moe's stories, sense of humor and infectious laugh never failed to strike a spark and pick up the morale. In his spare hours Moe worked a small garden plot that helped supplement the meager rations. During the rainy season he became extremely adept in needlework. Even in the worst periods his faith and optimism never faltered.

"In December of 1944, after two months in Bilibid Prison on unusually light rations, we were shipped to Japan. The first ship was sunk off Olongapo. The second in Tacao Harbor, Formosa. Moe survived these hardships. His courage and example saved many lives. From Formosa to Japan conditions became steadily worse. Exposure, exhaustion and malnutrition took a toll of fifty casualties a night. Moe's rugged construction had stood him in good stead but his unselfishness and untiring efforts to aid the wounded finally wore him out. About ten o'clock on the 21st of January 1945 Moe went to sleep for the last time.

Throughout this trying period he maintained his composure and served as a source of strength to others"

Maurice Francis Daly was all that West Point hopes for in her graduates, for he was an intelligent, loyal, forceful but understanding, brave officer. One can speak for all who knew him by saying, “We will miss him throughout our mortal lives”. To paraphrase a remark of Ralph Sasse, ’16, “Moe Daly has made the All Time-All America team of manhood".

—R. P. R., ’26

[Jolla]

Just wondering, what are these posts about, is this a day in history or did those 4 threads have something in common, or just info you wanted out there.
Thanks

[Squantos]

Can’t fathom the hardships these men endured ..... god bless them all.