For Fathers Day: The Fathers of John McCain

As we gather together to celebrate Fathers Day across the land, it seems an appropriate time to offer readers another glimpse into the personality and background of John McCain – particularly his relationship and remembrances of his father and grandfather as demonstrated in his 1999 book, Faith of my Fathers. This portion comes from Chapter One of the book, “In War and Victory” and I believe it speaks to the family history and relationships which inform the man’s values and character.

For a hint as to the shadow cast by the previous generations of McCains, click on the picture above for a full size photo. This iconic image shows, in the foreground, Fleet Admiral Chester W. Nimitz signing the Instrument of Surrender (of Japan) on board the USS Missouri (BB-63), on the second day of September 1945. Behind Nimitz are General of the Army Douglas MacArthur,
Admiral William F. Halsey and Rear Admiral Forrest Sherman. Take a look at the front row of military dignitaries in the background. Third from the left (with his head slightly bowed) is none other than Rear Admiral John S. McCain. At the moment this photo was taken, Senator McCain’s father, a Naval Submarine Commander, was only a few hundred yards away on the deck of the Sub Tender USS Proteus. McCain writes of a meeting which took place that day between father and grandfather, and how they were destined never to see each other again.

Immediately after father and son parted company that day, my grandfather left for his home in Coronado, California. Before he left, he issued his last dispatch to the men under his command.

I am glad and proud to have fought through my last year of acive service with the renowned fast carriers. War and victory have forged a lasting bond among us. If you are as fortunate in peace as you have been victorious in war, I am now talking to 110,000 prospective millionaires. Goodbye, good luck, and may God be with you.

He then describes his grandfather’s arrival home four days later and a welcome home party arranged by his grandmother. It was attended by friends, family, neighbors and the families of many other military officers still awaiting the return of their loved ones.

Some of the guests remembered having observed that my grandfather seemed something less than his normally ebullient self; a little tired from his journey, they had thought, and worn out from the rigors of war.

In the middle of the celebration my grandfather turned to my grandmother, announced that he felt ill, and then collapsed. A physician attending the party knelt down to feel for the admiral’s pulse. Finding none, he looked up at my grandmother and said, “Kate, he’s dead.”

He was sixty-one years old. He had fought his war and died. His Navy physician attributed his fatal heart attack to “complete fatigue resulting from the strain of the last months of combat.”

The admiral’s funeral at Arlington was attended by many of the same dignitaries present at the conclusion of World War Two. Much of Senator McCain’s memoirs focus on his father and grandfather, who he clearly respected greatly and sought to emulate. (With varying degrees of success, by his own admission.) In upcoming installments we will look at the early days in Barack Obama’s life and some of his stories from his book, The Audacity of Hope.