Fort George G. Meade: The First 100 Years

Eisenhower at Camp Meade
BETWEEN THE WARS
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Long-time residents like to point out with pride that
Dwight and Mamie Eisenhower lived for a short time in
a boardinghouse in Laurel during his posting to Camp
Meade. (Camp Meade became Fort Leonard Wood in
1928, renamed Fort Meade in 1929.) But a new book sheds
some light on their time here–a time that proved crucial
to Eisenhower’s career, but also a time that produced their
darkest days, both personally and professionally.
Steven Rabalais has written a biography of Fox Conner,
one of Eisenhower’s primary mentors and a forgotten,
but highly influential, military leader. His book, "Gen. Fox
Conner: Pershing’s Chief of Operations and Eisenhower’s
Mentor," (Casemate, Nov. 2016) provides details on three
life-altering events that happened to the Eisenhowers
during their time at Camp Meade. Other Eisenhower
biographies, as well as his own memoirs, confirm the
events and help fill in some details. In a phone interview
from Louisiana, Rabalais offered his perspective:
“Eisenhower probably wouldn’t have amounted to what
he became without his time at Meade.”
Meeting Patton and Conner
“Eisenhower himself would tell you that meeting Fox
Conner was a watershed moment in his career,” Rabalais
told me.
In March 1919, Maj. Eisenhower was sent to Camp
Meade for the second time in his career. He had been
thwarted throughout WWI in his efforts to be sent to
Europe and join the fighting. At Meade, however, he was
given an opportunity to continue his work with a relatively
new weapon–tanks. He also coached the camp football
team.
In the autumn of 1920, Eisenhower met Col. George
Patton, who had commanded a tank brigade in France.
After the war, Patton had been sent to Meade, where he
and Ike became good friends and next door neighbors.
“From the beginning he and I got along famously,” Ike
wrote in his memoir "At Ease." In their side-by-side
quarters, Eisenhower distilled gin and Patton brewed
home beer, according to Rabalais.
In 1920, the Army transferred the Tank Corps into the
infantry, and Ike and Patton, each of whom commanded
By Kevin Leonard
a tank battalion at Meade, were tasked with making it
work. Together they developed tank tactics, procedures,
and design. Ike benefitted from his friend’s combat
experience with tanks.
It was through his friend George Patton that Ike met
the man who was destined to be his most influential
mentor. At a dinner party hosted by Patton and his wife,
Gen. Fox Conner discussed tanks with Ike and Patton.
The discussion went on for hours and was even moved to
the tank repair shop. Ike was just happy to have the ear of
someone higher up who seemed interested in their work.
“At the time, Eisenhower had not comprehended that he
had just gone through a job interview,” said Rabalais.
“George Patton’s influence on Ike was significant,
but his greatest contribution to Ike’s development was
indirect, his role in bringing his friend under the tutelage
of his true mentor, Brig. Gen. (later Maj. Gen.) Fox
Conner,” wrote his son John Eisenhower in "General Ike:
A Personal Reminiscence."
After his time at Camp Meade, Conner requested
that Ike become his executive officer in Panama. The
Eisenhowers pulled up stakes and the move propelled
his career. Before leaving Camp Meade, however, Conner
would help Ike through a career crisis.
Losing a Son
Mamie Eisenhower came from a wealthy Denver family,
and she struggled in the couple’s early years adapting to the
military lifestyle. “Social life among the married couples
was rather thin in the post-war months at Meade,” wrote
Ike.
Ike and Patton sometimes needed more entertainment
than poker games and dinner parties. A 1969 Time
magazine review of John Eisenhower’s book "The
Bitter Woods" contained one anecdote as to how they
entertained themselves. “Back in the early 1920s, when
they were bored peacetime soldiers at Fort Meade, Ike
and George Patton used to drive back and forth at night
along a lonely road where holdups were known to occur.
Armed to the teeth, they offered themselves as bait–but
in vain.” The “lonely road” was no doubt Route 602 (later
Route 198) to Laurel.