During his last years the old soldier was stooped and weak. His cheeks were sunken and his once-square chin, below his clipped mustache, was bony and sharp. At times he was petulant. He fumed at being photographed, once cried: "To hell with the War Department—they can't make me have my picture taken."
He grew weary of his austere suite at Walter Reed Hospital, sometimes threatened to move to a Washington hotel. He often demanded sedatives which he did not need. But he clung to life with remarkable tenacity. For years he took a daily drive—usually through Rock Creek Park. Famous...