By Scott Graber
It is Saturday and I’m in Port Royal. This morning I have my coffee and a view of the early morning marsh.
Last night I made myself a Scotch and then asked Alexa to engage Josh Groban. I like all the ballads that Groban sings, all of them having compelling, comprehensible lyrics, and I know that Groban will eventually get around to “Try to Remember.”
“Try to Remember” is a song from “The Fantastics” — a play that ran for many years beginning in 1960. Susan and I saw this play twice, but I heard the tune long before we saw the play. In fact, I remember when and where I was when that happened.
I was a sophomore at The Citadel and one afternoon, for some reason, I found myself in The Citadel’s cavernous field house. I don’t remember why I was there (I didn’t play basketball or lift weights) but I heard music — a song being sung by The Citadel’s glee club.
I would later learn that they were rehearsing for a performance that would honor General Mark Clark’s wife, Maurine, better known to us cadets as “Rennie.” Perhaps it was Valentine’s Day, or her birthday, but they were singing “Try to Remember” and I was instantly attracted to the tune and to its simple, poetic lyrics.
I remained in the shadows, under the bleachers, listening and wondering just what were the memories that Rennie Clark would “try to remember.”
Try to remember the kind of September
when life was slow and, oh, so mellow
Try to remember the kind of September
When grass was green and grain was yellow …
I thought her memories would be those of a young, beautiful woman, getting to know her soldier-husband just back from World War I. I thought that those memories would include pinning the first star on his collar and watching him rise in the same way his friend, Dwight Eisenhower, was rising through the ranks.
In fact, Mark W. Clark became the Army’s youngest three-star general in 1942. And in 1943 he took command of the 5th U.S. Army that invaded Italy at Salerno, just South of Naples. Clark’s plan (Code named Avalanche) did not prepare the site with artillery — Clark thinking surprise would be decisive — and the 5th Army was nearly decimated by a series of German counterattacks. Despite this near-defeat, and growing criticism about his plan, Clark was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross.
Thereafter Mark Clark and British General Montgomery began a long, bloody slog up the spine of Italy toward what was called the “Winter Line.” This strategy was also controversial and came to a head with the assault on the Gari River — a failed effort that cost him 1,681 casualties. There were many more casualties at Monte Cassino.
There is no question the Operation Overlord — the invasion of France — bled troops, tanks and warplanes from the 5th Army and the Italian Campaign. But Clark’s decision to capture Rome — allowing the German 10th Army to escape and erect yet another defensive “wall” above Rome — was controversial at the time but has largely been ignored by historians.
Mark Clark remained in the Army after 1945 finding himself signing the cease fire at Panmunjom, calling it the most humiliating signature in his life.
Clearly there was disappointment and regret in their lives and maybe that regret passed through Rennie Clark’s mind as she listened to the young cadets sing,
Deep in December its nice to remember
Although you know the snow will follow
Deep in December its nice to remember
Without a hurt the heart is hollow
As the Korean War wound down, South Carolina was wondering what to do with The Citadel. The number of new cadets showing up at Lesesne Gate was cratering and there was rumbling in the Legislature about The Citadel’s cost and whether it was worth it.
Fritz Hollings told me that he and Jimmy Byrnes decided Mark Clark could revive The Citadel’s fortunes, and they began to court Clark with tales of largemouth bass. He took the job and brought his wife to Charleston where she died (in 1966) serenaded and well-loved.
I can still remember standing under those bleachers wondering what memories I would have when I reached Rennie Clark’s age. And now I’ve reached that age and the music, and the lyrics help me remember slow dancing with my wife; stumbling along Hadrian’s Wall with my son; and having enough “hurts” to keep my heart from being hollow.
Scott Graber is a lawyer, novelist, veteran columnist and longtime resident of Port Royal. He can be reached at cscottgraber@gmail.com.
