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But this was not his sole distinction. He was promoted to major general in 1912 after only 15 years of military service -- the first three as a private. He was the first Guard officer to attend the Army War College, graduating in 1914. When he went "over there" in 1918 he became, at age 42, the youngest American division commander in Europe. He was so well regarded that he became the only division commander in the history of the Army to have his name incorporated into a division's patch. Born in the Bronx in 1875 to an Irish/Dutch family, O'Ryan attended City College and later got his law degree from New York University. Though a city boy, he had a great love for horses and riding, which would prove valuable later in his Guard career. O'Ryan's military career began during his last year of law school, when he enlisted as a private in New York City's fashionable 7th Infantry Regiment. Promotion in the 7th Regiment was slow, but the regiment did have a reputation for providing the cadre for many of New York City's other units, and O'Ryan was a talented young soldier. In 1900, three years after he enlisted, his skill with horses was noted and he was asked to take a commission and teach horsemanship in a field artillery battery. He accepted. However, since there was no 'basic course" for Guardsmen, he knew nothing about being an artillery officer. So O'Ryan taught himself. In time he became an expert on the subject. He rose through the ranks at a steady pace while practicing law in civilian life. By 1911, he was a major and battalion commander. A demanding officer in a day when the Guard was regarded by many as a social organization, O'Ryan's first action upon taking battery command was to throw out the pool and ping-pong tables. He also required attendance at additional, unpaid drills where he trained his men hard. His battery quickly filled up, as word got out that he was serious about preparing his men to fight. His training methods drew praise from the Army's Chief of Field Artillery, who visited his armory to see a demonstration. Clearly the officer had great potential, and it was noticed at the highest levels. Then, like a bolt out of the blue, he jumped four ranks to major general and was given command of New York's division in 1912. O'Ryan said he was as puzzled as anyone at the promotion. "I had heard rumors about it, but I didn't know anything about it," he said years later. "I didn't know until after I was a General who was responsible for it. I found later, he told me so, that General Leonard Wood [the Chief of Staff of the Army] was the man who made the recommendation." While highly unusual, this kind of ascension was not without precedent. Occasionally senior officers intervened in the promotion process to pull up a junior man who showed promise. General J.J. Pershing made a similar jump in rank when he was selected to command the Mexican punitive expedition in 1916. With his promotion to major general, O'Ryan left his law practice and took up his military career full-time. Chief of Staff Wood continued to keep his eye on him, making it possible for O'Ryan to become the first Guardsman to attend the War College in the fall of 1913. He graduated in the top one-third of his class. A year or so later, O'Ryan was at the head of his division (at that time the 6th Division; it was redesignated in the summer of 1917 as the 27th Division) patrolling the Mexican border across from Monterrey, Mexico. A renowned disciplinarian, the general outlawed alcohol in his division, and had his MPs posted outside the local brothels. "I was the world's prize son-of-a-bitch, and I knew it," he would remark years later. O'Ryan took pride in his division's discipline and low rate of venereal disease -- so low that higher headquarters conducted a surprise "short arm" inspection, because they believed the division's doctors were submitting false reports. Within a few weeks of the division's return from the Mexican border, the men were again called-up -- this time because the United States had entered into World War I. During the war, the 27th (along with the National Guard's 30th division) served with the British and Commonwealth troops under Field Marshal Sir Douglas Haig. The rest of the American divisions were sent elsewhere to fight in the new American army formed by Pershing. After some train-up time, the division was ordered in July to seize key high ground near Mont Kemmel, located near the devastated town of Ypres, Belgium. The division made a two kilometer advance against stiff German resistance over the course of four days -- significant progress by World War I standards. It was due in large part to the deadly massing of artillery fire at key points and times. The general's younger days as an artilleryman, and his careful study of artillery employment, paid off. After a two week break, the 27th took up the offense again in a new part of the front, just north of the French town of St. Quentin. Here, the division helped crack the "Hindenburg Line" at one of its toughest spots -- where an underground canal tunnel cut through a hillside, and was tied into the trenches above by a labyrinth of connecting passageways. This tunnel system gave the Germans excellent protection from artillery. It also helped conceal the routes they used to reinforce their lines. Nevertheless, at great cost, the men of the 27th stormed the tunnel, flushing out the Germans in the kind of close-quarters, underground combat that foreshadowed the fighting on Iwo Jima and Okinawa in World War II. Pulled back to reconstitute again, the 27th was thrown into the line for a third and final time at the end October. The fight was over relatively open country at a time the German army was starting to crumble. The 27th swept forward, netting over 1,500 prisoners in four days. The war was over before the division could be committed again. Just before the war ended, the American Expeditionary Force Headquarters approved the division's shoulder sleeve insignia. The designers of the patch paid homage to the young commander with a visual pun -- in addition to the monogram "NY" for New York, it shows the seven stars of the constellation Orion -- a homophone, of course, for the division commander's surname O'Ryan. After the war and a hero's parade down Fifth Avenue, O'Ryan gained notice for his testimony before Congress advocating greater federal control over the National Guard. O'Ryan staked out an independent position, somewhere between the extreme views held by the Chief of Staff of the Army on one side and the leadership of the National Guard Association on the other. His popularity among his peers suffered, but O'Ryan was never one to compromise his opinion. O'Ryan left the National Guard in the early 20s and returned to his law practice and real estate business. His reputation and popularity made him a natural candidate for civic leadership. Appointed by the governor to the New York City Transit Commission in 1919, he resigned shortly thereafter to become president of Colonial Airways. His popularity was such that there was a movement in the Democratic Party in 1933 to make him the party's candidate for Mayor, but O'Ryan didn't desire the honor. Instead, he threw his support to another Democrat, Fiorella La Guardia. Not, perhaps, coincidentally, O'Ryan was appointed Police Commissioner shortly after La Guardia won the election. However, their two strong personalities clashed, and O'Ryan resigned the job after less than a year. Following the U.S. entrance into World War II in 1941, New York state again called on the services of one of its most famous sons when Gov. Herbert Lehman appointed O'Ryan the state's first Director of Civilian Defense. He died in 1961 at the age of 85, and was buried at Arlington National Cemetery. While O'Ryan clearly had some political sensibility about him, he gained (and kept) his rank through hard work and demonstrated competence -- not political connections. There is no other way to explain his selection as the first Guardsman to attend the War College, or how he was the only Guard division commander to retain his command throughout the war. Today, few
Guardmembers, even in his home state, are aware of his name or legacy.
Ironic, considering they need only to look at the patch worn by New York's
27th Infantry Brigade (Light) soldiers, to view a tribute to a remarkable
National Guardsman.
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