One incident that happened during this time still bothers me a bit. In the Band of Brothers miniseries, Lieutenant Lewis Nixon is depicted as an all-around swell guy. Even though Nixon (portrayed by actor Ron Livingston) is shown to have some faults, for example, he has a drinking problem, he’s also shown as Winters’s best friend and confidant. I must say, however, that Nixon was never a particular favorite of mine. Apparently he did not care for me, either. Nixon had been a Yale man and always struck me as a bit of a highbrow. He jumped at Normandy and had been promoted to battalion intelligence officer shortly after Carentan. One day soon after our return from France, he and I were having a casual conversation when he gratuitously remarked that he had no use for “jocks,” directing his remark at me. He considered us “stupid” (his words) for spending all our time in college practicing and sweating while he spent all his time out “partying.” Then out of the clear blue he announced he was appointing me as battalion physical training officer. That meant I had the duty of taking the battalion on an hour-long run each day. The order wasn’t really within the scope of his authority, but he had no trouble getting the battalion to issue an order to that effect. I had no problem as physical fitness officer, and I had no problem with leading the men on a daily run. But when the order was issued, it prescribed two types of uniforms for this particular activity. For the enlisted men, the uniform was to be T-shirts and jump pants. For officers, the uniform was olive drabs. I was the only officer who would be making the run, which Lewis knew. Picture it: There I was running each morning, sweating my butt off in a long-sleeved woolen shirt, woolen pants, and a necktie. Five hundred guys ran the course dressed in normal fitness gear, and one officer—me—led the group, dressed up like a damn peacock. All thanks to Lewis Nixon. Take that for what it is.
