VIDEO, PHOTOS: Hundreds Gather in Downtown New Canaan for Re-Routed Memorial Day Parade, Annual Ceremony

Memorial Day Parade 2016

Uploaded by Michael Dinan on 2016-05-30.

A person’s sense of accountability defines him or her, hard work and mastery of complex things is a virtue, be a professional and war is not glorious, though those who fight beside one another are—these are the four great lessons that William Ruoff carries with him on knowing, observing and serving with U.S. Armed Forces veterans.

As a midshipman first-class in his senior year at the U.S. Naval Academy, the New Canaan resident recalled Monday, he applied for consideration to make submarines his warfare specialty following graduation.

“To enter that specialty, I first had to interview with Adm. Hyman G. Rickover, the director of the Naval Nuclear Propulsion Program and father of the modern nuclear submarine force,” Ruoff told the crowd of locals gathered outside the northern entrance to Town Hall following an abbreviated Memorial Day Parade downtown. “Some of you may know that he was a visionary in naval warfare and marine engineering, and an enigma in the U.S. Navy hierarchy and Washington politics.”

Ruoff said he wrote back to Rickover after his interview, promising to study an extra five hours per week prior to graduation, and was accepted into the program.

“My training was a revelation, and extremely challenging. I had to completely re-learn how to think about how things worked. The term often used today is ‘system thinking’—knowing how all the pieces fit together holistically, but also knowing each piece in detail.”

He also had to re-learn how to think and act “in the extremely complex and unforgiving ‘zero defects’ environment of a nuclear submarine,” coming to know the purpose, function and uniqueness of a slew of different parts on board.

“I hope that you would agree when I say that one does not ‘wing it’ when operating a nuclear reactor,” Ruoff told the crowd.

It was a lesson in responsibility and professionalism that Ruoff—who would go on to earn a MBA from the University of Chicago Graduate School, then embark on a 29-year career with GE—never forgot. Quoting Rickover, Ruoff said that “ ‘the critical issue is not what we know, but what we do with what we know.’ ”

“ ‘The great end of life is not knowledge, but action. I believe that it is the duty of each of us to act as if the fate of the world depended on him. We must live for the future, not for our own comfort or success.’ ”

His words reached about 400 people gathered outside Town Hall—and amid many of the plantings, now in bloom, from the New Canaan Beautification League—during a stirring ceremony that the town’s highest elected leaders moved from the large meeting room within when they saw the large crowd form in the plaza, access way and parking lots outside.

Under a threat of thunderstorms that never materialized, the parade route itself was shortened this year, with those marching turning right at the bottom of God’s Acre, where those in uniform saluted at the Wayside Cross, and then threading through the Park Street parking lots down to Town Hall.

Led by VFW Post 653 Commander Peter Langenus, a U.S. Army captain in Vietnam who also served as a colonel during Operation Desert Storm, and First Selectman Rob Mallozzi, and with prayers led by the Rev. Dr. Stephen Chapin Garner of the Congregational Church of New Canaan, the ceremony included the town band playing our national anthem, presentation of wreaths from the Hannah Benedict Carter Chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution and parade grand marshal Christopher Cogswell—himself a third-generation New Canaanite and 1986 NCHS grad who served as a staff sergeant in the U.S. Army, including during Operation Desert Storm (which concluded exactly 25 years ago), and now works as a special needs assistant at Saxe Middle School—playing of “Taps” and singing of “God Bless America” by Girl Scouts.

During his guest speaker address, Ruoff reviewed his military career and spotlighted individuals and experiences that took hold of him and have remained, including how, at the time he became electrical division officer of a ship, he learned “who really runs the ship: the senior petty officers and chief petty officers.”

“The chiefs and lead petty officers set the tone and culture for the crew’s ability to get things done consistently and reliably. Actions and results carry far more weight than words and excuses. Being regarded by other members of the crew as a ‘shipmate’ is something that you have to earn—your ‘stars, bars and stripes’ or educational background don’t count for a whole lot.”

Spotlighting to individuals in particular—Alfred “Slow Al” Beatty and Randy “Private Eye” Schoen, Ruoff said he was “impressed by how they tackled any job—be it maintaining or repairing a broken piece of machinery or circuit panel, cleaning their workspace or location until it shined, or just standing duty at their watch station for four hours at a time.”

“They worked carefully, methodically, displaying attention to the most minute details. In some respects, they weren’t sailors—rather, they were craftsman practicing the finer points of their craft. No task, assignment or project that I ordered, either familiar or unfamiliar to them, was too big or too daunting. Their response was always the same: ‘I can do that, sir.’ To them it was another opportunity to demonstrate their total ownership and accountability for their part of the ship. As an officer, they permitted me to enter their domain and temporarily allowed me to direct use of their equipment.”

During the most poignant portion of his speech, Ruoff recalled his father, William F. Ruoff, Jr., who served during World War II as an infantry officer in the U.S. Army.

Ruoff, Jr. landed in France shortly after the allied forces landed at Normandy, and his unit fought in combat.

“They were subsequently captured by the German Wehrmacht during the Battle of the Bulge [Hitler’s counteroffensive] in late 1944, and held as prisoners of war for a little over six months. My father was subsequently awarded the Bronze Star and Purple Heart for his actions to evade capture, for protecting the men in his rifle platoon and for sustaining shrapnel wounds. My father was no ‘John Wayne’—but I often held him in that level of esteem.”

Thanks to the GI Bill, Ruoff recalled, his father went back to school after WWII, and studied to become a physician and cardiologist.

“He was a dedicated and tireless physician—absorbed by the process of healing and the relief of suffering,” Ruoff recalled of his father. “After leaving military service, he never handled or fired a weapon. He never ate a turnip. He didn’t think that the television show ‘Hogan’s Heroes’ was funny. He cried during the movie ‘The Battle of the Bulge.’ And he never spoke about what he personally experienced or witnessed in combat or as a prisoner of war. He quickly grew agitated and dismissive when asked any questions about his personal deeds.”

Even so, Ruoff Jr. always spoke well of his fellow soldiers—not as extraordinary men, but in recalling their humanity and courage to protect one another.

“Every year, on Christmas Day, he would spend several hours taking long-distance calls,” Ruoff recalled. “The calls came from the men that he led in his rifle platoon. They collectively understood that they were forever connected. They stayed in touch, celebrated the good fortune and fulfilling lives that they enjoyed—and remembered their buddies who didn’t return home from the war. It was their unspoken duty to live a purposeful life for the ones who died on the battlefield and had their lives tragically cut short.”

When he was a young boy, Ruoff recalled that it seemed strange to him how his own father didn’t fit the image of “war hero” portrayed on TV and in the movies.

“I didn’t understand the simple truth that you fight for your buddies, because they fight for you,” he said. “You keep each other alive. In the chaos and horror of combat, that’s all that really matters.”

In conclusion, Ruoff said: “As you might guess, I have learned many other beneficial lessons from veterans that I have had the pleasure to know and serve with. I am humbled by them, and grateful for their teachings. I can only say a sincere ‘thank you’ and a ‘Bravo Zulu’—‘job well done.’ I have learned a lot, and now it is my turn, and obligation, to teach others.”

Here are some photos from the parade: