Generally, He Is a Grand Marshal

LOUISVILLE, Ky. — H. Norman Schwarzkopf, man o’ war, came here for the Kentucky Derby.

When he strode into the hotel ballroom in his battle fatigues, I was so happy to see him, I felt like buying him a beer. I had to resist the temptation to yell: “Norm!”

For several months now, my main ambition as a journalist has been to ask the last question at one of Gen. Schwarzkopf’s news conferences. Thursday, I did.

I asked what he thought of one of the Derby horses, Sea Cadet.

“The cadet part, I like,” the U.S. Army commander said. “I don’t know about the sea part.”

Attention, sailors and ships at sea. Remember, this man did go to West Point.

Besides, Schwarzkopf winked and said he was kidding about Sea Cadet.

(Even though he probably wouldn’t have bet on Seabiscuit, either.)

Anyhow, what I really needed to know from the general was what his wife thought of Sea Cadet’s chances. After all, she’s the reason he’s here.

(Schwarzkopf, not Sea Cadet.)

It was Brenda Schwarzkopf who implored her husband to accept the Kentucky Derby’s kind invitation to be grand marshal of the festival, including Thursday’s parade through downtown Louisville.

“Do you bet the horses?” the general was asked.

“OK, I probably shouldn’t release this classified information,” Schwarzkopf said. “But, here it is anyway:

“I approach betting on horse races the same way I approach a military campaign offensive.

“First, I do a good deal of studying. I study the current conditions of the horses, of the track and of the weather. Then, obviously, the jockey and the trainer are both very important to any strategy.

“I calculate very, very carefully all of my available information.

“Then I turn to my wife and say: ‘Brenda, who do you like?’

“And she says: ‘Oooh, I like the name of this horse.’ Then we bet on that one.”

For the most part, it was a funny little press session. Women in bonnets sat around wearing badges that read: The General Schwarzkopf Visit.

Stormin’ Norman was in a typically gregarious mood, even though everyone in the room had to be frisked by security guards because of recent threats against the general’s life. Schwarzkopf chatted away on anything and everything, including why he didn’t much care for the nickname Stormin’ Norman. (“It implies someone who is frantically rushing around destroying things, someone who’s holding grudges and vindictive.”)

He wore his camouflage clothes for the parade and brought along his dress uniform for later Derby functions. He also brought along his oldest daughter, Cindy, who wore a skirt about 10 inches above the knee. No fatigues for her.

The Schwarzkopfs are into sports. At West Point, where he finished 42nd in a class of 485, Schwarzkopf joined the German Club and sang in the choir, but he also participated in football, wrestling, soccer and tennis. His father played polo and his wife and daughter ride horseback.

Schwarzkopf’s football coach at the academy, L. Maitland Black, said his offensive lineman “needed a little prodding to get him going--any big guy needs a little prodding.”

I don’t know. This one doesn’t need much.

One guy asked if Schwarzkopf thought they were look-alikes. (They stood side by side. They weren’t.) The general volunteered that he looked more like TV weatherman Willard Scott.

Then came my favorite question--aside from mine--when some bluegrass-stained Kentuckian asked the general what horse-racing terminology he would use to describe the running of Saddam Hussein.

“Was he running?” Schwarzkopf asked back. “Well, I think we crossed the finish line before he even got out of the gate.”

Since returning home from the Persian Gulf, the general has been swept up in a, well, storm of recognition and adoration.

The reception Schwarzkopf got during the parade itself was thrilling, although my favorite part was seeing a soldier in fatigues stepping into and out of a black stretched limo.

What’s amazing is how accommodating he is, even with those who ask hokey questions about horses.

“People come up to me and say they can’t believe how much patience I show,” Schwarzkopf said. “I don’t understand that at all. How can you not have your picture taken with someone who wants to take a picture with you? How can you not shake somebody’s hand who wants to shake your hand?”

You can tell Norman is not used to being a celebrity.

Too bad he left before I could ask my big follow-up question--what he thought of Fly So Free.

Bet he likes the free part.