A Matter of Honor

 

A few years ago, I went to my 40^th West Point class reunion. I had a wonderful time especially renewing friendships with those with whom I lived, studied, and trained during those four arduous years. We truly were “a band of brothers”. 44 years later my time at West Point continues to significantly define who I am today.

 While at the reunion, I was interviewed by West Point’s Center for Oral History as a result of my experiences while a cadet, in particular during the Honor Scandal of 1976. At the time, it was a huge event receiving national attention and threatening to destroy the very foundation that makes West Point great - it’s Honor Code. Though innocent, I was caught in the middle of it. I found myself in a battle to prove my innocence and defend my honor. Instead of being innocent until proven guilty, I was guilty until proven innocent. It was a terrible, transformative time.

 The honor scandal involved an electrical engineering exam that my entire class took just before Spring Break my Junior year. This was a take-home test, yet, as was true with any work at West Point, you were honor bound to not ask for or received any help from anyone, no matter how minor. If you did, you were required to footnote the help you received and your grade was reduced accordingly. Many of my classmates, for reasons known only to them, chose to help each other and not footnote that help. Thus, they had violated the code. An investigation of epic proportions ensued.

 In the months that followed, I and others under investigation, were moved to barracks separate from the rest of the Corps of Cadets; relieved of leadership responsibilities within the Corps for the summer; assigned a lawyer; and given a trial date. The first time I met my lawyer he told me I had a 20% chance of being found innocent! I was shocked to my core. I responded, “Sir, you’re telling me, someone who is completely innocent, that I have only a 20% chance of being found innocent?” He reminded me that up to that time, scores of my classmates had gone before the Honor Committee and all had been found guilty and dismissed. It was the lowest, darkest time of my life. To be accused of something you did not do is one the worst things that can happen to a person.

 My lawyer came to believe in my innocence and so began a many - months fight to prove it. I won this battle, but at great emotional cost. I was extremely embittered toward West Point and all it represented. It was an institution that prided itself on over 200 years of unparalleled education, military, leadership, and character training. Yet I, and many other innocent classmates, were caught up in an investigation that became a witch hunt. Eventually, hundreds of us were investigated and over 150 found guilty and dismissed. It left a chasm within my class that to this day has not completely healed.

 The day I graduated was bittersweet for me. I was happy beyond words to have survived the blood, sweat, and tears of my four years there. But I was also extremely bitter toward West Point. When I drove my car through Thayer gate into “freedom”, I intentionally flipped my rearview mirror up so I would not see a trace of it. I was so angry I refused to wear my class ring for years. I was not convinced that what I had been through had been worth it. Eventually, with time, bad memories begin to fade and my anger softened. With my acceptance to medical school, I realized the critical role West Point played in opening that door for me. I came to understand that all the pain and sacrifice had been worth it.

 I am a better person for having gone through that most difficult time. As a result, I have a strong sense of justice and a resolve to be a man of honor and integrity, living up to the West Point motto “Duty, Honor, Country”. As a leader, I continually seek to create a culture of respect that allows people to do what they  do best, better, and to reach their fullest potential!

 Andy Lamb, MD