2nd Lt. David Skibbe

For his “courage, valiant leadership and unwavering devotion to duty,” 2nd Lt. David Skibbe was awarded the Navy Cross, the service’s second-highest decoration. Midshipman Skibbe as Naval ROTC battalion commander, 1968. (Image courtesy of U.S. Navy)

Among character traits, leadership is often a late bloomer, requiring maturity both in those who hold it, and who recognize it. Even as an undergraduate, David Skibbe, ’69 ACES, was seen as a leader: president of his fraternity; battalion commander of his Naval ROTC unit; head of the NROTC drill team. He was confident in himself, and people, especially his peers, had confidence in him. On Oct. 18, as part of the ceremonies commemorating the 100th anniversary of Memorial Stadium, the U of I’s Naval ROTC will inaugurate its Hall of Fame. Skibbe will be its first inductee.

“If you were a movie director typecasting a Marine officer, Dave would be your man,” says Stephen DeWalt, ’70 LAS, who was a member of the NROTC drill team that Skibbe led.

The second of four children born to a postmaster and a homemaker in Mt. Prospect, Ill., Skibbe had a typical Baby Boomer upbringing. “He was an active kid,” recalls his elder sister, Joan Tomoff. “What I remember most is that he liked to work. He had two paper routes. He worked in a chop suey place. He cleaned a cement mixer.” His labor paid off; in high school, he bought a convertible. “The girls liked him,” Tomoff recalls. “They would ride their bikes past the house just to say hello.”

Skibbe enrolled at Illinois as a forestry major. Prior to his arrival, he didn’t exhibit a particular interest in a military career. But after joining Naval ROTC and selecting the Marine option, Skibbe grew more committed to that choice.

“He was totally dedicated,” says John Fenton, ’68 BUS, Skibbe’s roommate and NROTC colleague. “When he was selected battalion commander, there was no question he deserved it. He was Mister Marine. He knew he was choosing a path that could take him into harm’s way, and he accepted it.”

“When he was selected battalion commander, there was no question he deserved it. He was Mister Marine.” —John Fenton, ’68 BUS

Two classes behind Skibbe, DeWalt was a member of the drill team that Skibbe captained. “He instilled confidence,” he says. “When he gave you a command, you knew exactly what to do.” But after practice sessions, DeWalt recalls, the formalities dissolved and Skibbe would joke around. “I knew he would be a good officer. He knew how to relate to people. I looked up to him.”

Skibbe also tended bar at Stan’s Gridiron, the popular watering hole. One day he struck up a conversation with a transfer student from Drake University. “He was sweet, kind, good-looking,” recalls Georgine Hembrough, ’69 LAS, EDM ’73. “I knew right away he was something special.”

As their relationship deepened, the war in Vietnam loomed. “We didn’t discuss the war very much,” Hembrough recalls. “We knew where he was headed, but we didn’t dwell on it.” After the Navy Ball in 1968, they discussed marriage. They decided against a ceremony; “What if I don’t come back?” he asked. But they made a commitment to marry upon his return.

In January 1969, after receiving his commission and degree, Skibbe undertook six months of intensive training at The Basic School in Quantico, Va. Hembrough attended his graduation. “I was so proud of him,” she says. “He stood out. He was part of something he loved, and people respected him.”

Skibbe arrived in Vietnam in October 1969, assigned to a unit stationed in the jungle mountains outside the Da Nang Air Base. On March 2, 1970, Skibbe’s patrol came under heavy fire. When one of his men was hit, he placed himself between the fallen man and enemy soldiers and laid down covering fire while the wounded Marine was pulled to safety.

As he deployed his men, Skibbe was shot in the ankle. Though unable to walk, he directed the strafing runs of supporting aircraft, which ended the assault. After a helicopter lifted the more seriously wounded Marine, Skibbe was placed in a harness and lifted off the ground. When he was a hundred feet up, the cable snapped and Skibbe plunged into the jungle. Furious efforts to find him were unavailing.

For his “courage, valiant leadership and unwavering devotion to duty,” 2nd Lt. David Skibbe was awarded the Navy Cross, the service’s second-highest decoration. His body was never recovered. He was one of 64 alumni who lost their lives in Vietnam.