[May 24, 2025] Over these next few days, I’m going to highlight a few stories that I think regular readers might enjoy. Memorial Day is special day of remembrance for me, like it was to the World War One Doughboy next door that is the subject of this article.
He came over to shake my hand. My new neighbor next door, Mr. Jed Neidigh, had a big smile, a head full of white hair, and a firm grip. Howdy! He said as he welcomed my wife and me into the neighborhood. “I see you’re an Army man like me.” Mr. Neidigh was the doughboy next door for the next eight years.
During those years, Mr. Neidigh and I had many conversations, which is how I first learned the true meaning of honor.
The guns of the First World War had fallen eerily silent in 1918. It was seven decades later after the signing of the Armistice that I would meet a man who fought in that war; businessman, family man, devout Christian, and now the doughboy next door. He had been part of the “Great War.”
Those of us alive have little understanding of honor. We think we know what it is but find it difficult to articulate. Today, we might define “honor” as a set of personal ideals or being a person of integrity. While that may be correct in our modern use of the term, it doesn’t capture the concept as used historically.
Except for a few pockets of society, as those in the past, like Doughboy Neidigh, understood honor, it barely exists in the modern West. When folks in mainstream society do bring it up, it is usually done so in jest. In America and other Western nations, we lack a positive notion and healthy appreciation for the kind of classic honor that compelled our ancestors.
There are many fine books discussing honor. Psychologists, sociologists, and historians have tackled the subject by describing various parts and expressions without ever finding its core. I have concluded that these educated experts aren’t entirely sure what honor actually means. I will admit that it is not easy to recapture and describe something that was once so intrinsic to people’s lives that they did not feel the need to explain it.
During the Third Battle of the Aisne, doughboy Neidigh told me how the Allied forces were taking a terrible beating from the Germans. It was brutal combat, the kind you cannot see or ‘feel’ unless you’ve been there. He lost his rifle in one of many attacks. Never, ever, lose your rifle, for it protects you and your buddies. But “since there were thousands just lying around, I just picked one up.” The implication was obvious.
I never could understand how the foot soldiers of WWI could charge across a vast, open no-man’s land into the face of a well-armed, determined enemy. Those massive Infantry charges resulted in horrific casualties in the tens of thousands in just minutes. Such devastation is beyond my imagination. Despite the fact that I spent three years in combat, I still cannot grasp the full impact of such a battle.
The classic understanding of honor is the mutual respect given within an exclusive, close-knit group of equals. Honor must be earned, and its loss results in great shame. Honor, therefore, is based on the severe judgment of others within the exclusive group. And one who does not uphold the standards of the exclusive group can no longer be part of it.
Honor compelled these men, in the face of mortal danger, to do their duty. The American Doughboy Private Neidigh was part of an exclusive group. He earned the honor of being an American Infantryman, and I was privileged to know him as the doughboy next door.
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Lovely story. thank you, Gen. Satterfield. 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏
Wow, I hope you read this ……
“ During the Third Battle of the Aisne, doughboy Neidigh told me how the Allied forces were taking a terrible beating from the Germans. It was brutal combat, the kind you cannot see or ‘feel’ unless you’ve been there. He lost his rifle in one of many attacks. Never, ever, lose your rifle, for it protects you and your buddies. But “since there were thousands just lying around, I just picked one up.” The implication was obvious.”
Amazing!!!!!
Doughboy Neigdid deserves our salute. 🫡
Yeah, I almost passed it. But went back to re-read it.
Great story and very fortunate of Gen. Satterfield to have lived next to a World War One veteran.
Sir, I do recall you wrote about this doughboy before and mentioned him in other articles. Wow, that’s all I have to say. All of our WW1 veterans are now gone. Even our WW2 veterans are nearly all gone. About 16 million Americans served in uniform. Of the WW2 veterans, now only about 66,000 are still alive. If you know a WW2 veteran, be sure to thank them and give them your time.
Tracey, yep, you took the words right out of my mouth. I was going to write it too. But, I’ll add that we should give all our military our highest respect.
This is the kind of story that I come to this website (on leadership) to read and enjoy. The experiences of Gen. Satterfield are noteworthy because they form the basis of his view of the world and how it affects his ability to be a good leader at a senior level. But it is not accidental. His experiences are calculated. Why? Because he turns ordinary experiences into something more and useful because he sees it as important and takes the effort to get as much out of it as possible. Thank you, sir for what you do and I promise to remember the fallen on Memorial Day, just two days away.
Gen. Satterfield, you sure were fortunate to have known a WW1 doughboy. And the fact he lived next door to you, was a miracle in itself. I’m happy you had time to sit with him to talk about you both being Infantrymen.
COOL STORY
Indeed, cool story.