We have all benefited from learning from good leaders during our careers, military or otherwise, on how to be good leaders. But I will state that at least in my case, I have learned more about good leadership by observing bad leadership over the years. It showed me what not to do and was somewhat painful at the time. Perhaps the pain makes it more memorable?
To go back yet again to Beast Barracks 1968 at the Military Academy, I can say unequivocally I observed more bad leadership in the shortest period of time than during any other point in the next thirty-four years in the Army. The upperclassmen with few exceptions in the first half of Beast were not role models of good leadership. Rather, they were role models of what not to do and how not to be if you were serious about leading American soldiers. It was with great irony that we were required to learn Major General John M. Scofield’s Definition of Discipline with the opening line, “The discipline which makes the soldiers of a free country reliable in battle is not to be gained by harsh or tyrannical treatment.” One was usually subject to such “harsh or tyrannical treatment” when called upon to “spout off” Schofield’s definition. The second sentence of Schofield’s Definition is, “On the contrary, such treatment is far more likely to destroy than to make an army.” So, we had to memorize it and spout it off on demand, but we saw no or very little evidence of it being followed by the upperclassmen. What I did not know until I read the article on the Association of Graduates webpage at: https://www.westpointaog.org/sslpage.aspx?pid=4329 was that General Schofield had a much longer speech as the Superintendent of the Academy that included his definition of discipline, to the Corps of Cadets on 11 August 1879. The purpose of his speech was to reduce the amount of hazing that was then ongoing at the Military Academy. I encourage you to read the whole article because it’s timeless. What he said in 1879 is a valid today as it was then in 1879, but it was not followed as far as I could tell during the first part of Beast Barracks 1968.
As a rule, the upperclassmen used screaming and profanity to make their points. That was how they were apparently trained in Beast Barracks 1966 by the Classes of 1967/68, so to them it was the right way. It had always been that way supposedly since the Academy was founded in 1802. I was disappointed in the fact during Beast that you almost never saw an officer. A commissioned officer. The cadets were in total command and their performance at large was pretty much what you would expect for 19 and 20-year olds who had no real experience of the Army or of leading American soldiers for that matter. Their brief sojourns into the Army for Army Orientation Training (AOT) for a month in their second or third summer did not alter how they behaved as a group. The exception I noticed was from upperclassmen who were prior service. They for the most part, but not always, were more assured of themselves and their authority and actually lead by example. Poor leadership is rare in individuals who are confident, capable and self-assured in my experience.
So back to the story. I have related earlier how the 5th of July was panning out when my roommate sauntered out into the hallway and said “howdy” to an upperclassman. As I said earlier, he was convinced after being allowed to fall out and eat a real meal on the evening of the 4th of July that this signaled the end of the hard part of Beast. My other roommate and I got braced against the wall also but the brunt of the attention by the upperclassmen for the “howdy” greeting was directed at our poor roommate who was one of the nicest guys I ever met. Always smiling (which also got him on trouble) and easygoing. He took it well.
Once that was over, we went to ranks for inspection and then more drill and ceremony. We still had not been issued weapons so all the drill did not include the manual of arms. We marched and counter marched around the area for several hours, being given the Army traditional ten-minute break every hour which we spent at parade rest with our chins in. It was still hotter than hell. Once that was finally done, we went to our rooms to change uniforms for the dinner meal (lunch in the civilian world).
We formed up in the area for dinner formation and our squad leader was not his usual predatory self when he inspected us. He was actually fairly calm and quiet. We marched to the messhall. Once the brigade adjutant had ordered Take Seats!, we sat when the squad leader told us to. We sat on the front of the chair and braced both our chins and ourselves for another non-meal. Our squad leader totally surprised us by saying in a very calm voice (we hadn’t heard that one much) that he couldn’t let us fall out but he did want us to get a full meal. We were allowed to take big bites. In fact, he wanted us to get such a full meal, he went around other tables scrounging food for us.
The dinner menu was knockwurst and hot German potato salad with I think green beans. The potato salad and knockwurst weren’t a big favorite with most cadets so there was plenty of food from other tables. He kept bringing it and we kept eating it. We were well and truly happily stuffed! I know my good-natured roommate was again beginning to believe it was over; at least the hard part that is.
Just before the adjutant commanded Battalions Rise! our squad leader said in the voice we were used to the following, “Okay smackheads. Once you hear Battalions Rise! you will double time to the barracks and change into your uniform “as for swimming”. That’s swimming trunks, athletic shirt, tennis shoes and white towel folded in quarters over the left arm. And move out when I command move out! You will have five minutes from that time and you’d better not be late to ranks!”
The adjutant gave the order to rise and our squad leader screamed Move Out Smackheads at the top of his lungs. We bolted for the doors. Five minutes later, most of us were in ranks, the few laggards being soundly abused by the squad leader with lots of explicative added for good measure. Once everybody was accounted for, the squad leader double timed us to the gymnasium pool. We were to take our swimming test to ascertain what level of survival swimming we would be placed in once the academic year started. The squad leader with a smirk turned us over to the non-too gentle attentions of the Department of Physical Education (DPE).
An officer wearing black shorts and a polo shirt with DPE on it introduced himself as captain somebody, told us we were to take a timed swimming test for distance. He asked if anybody could not swim and nobody raised their hand. That done, he told us to line up along the edge of the pool and start swimming once he blew his whistle. We lined up, all of us feeling our knockwurst and potato salad. He blew his whistle and we jumped in and started swimming.
I believe the test was for twenty minutes. I should remember because it was the longest period in my life. After only a few laps, some of the guys were swimming for the wall to vomit in the scuppers. This made the captain in black shorts very unhappy and he told us to keep swimming. I didn’t vomit but also didn’t make the distance I normally would have. I had passed the American Red Cross Senior Lifesaving course a few years earlier and was an excellent swimmer. The result for me lugging around a gutful of really awful smelling knockwurst and potato salad as I belched my way down the pool was to be placed in advanced intermediate survival swimming instead of advanced swimming where I would only have to go to 12 classes of swimming instead of 20, but I didn’t know any of this at the time. Several of my squad mates who got really ill and couldn’t continue were placed in beginner swimming although they knew how to swim perfectly well. That meant extra swimming classes once the academic year started beyond the twenty class standard course.
When we were all done the captain in the black shorts ordered those who vomited to slosh their deposits down the scuppers and into the pool drain off where I assume it was filtered out. That being completed, the squad leader loudly and rudely with much profanity ordered us back outside to double time back to the barracks. I was interested to note that the squad leader felt comfortable enough to do this in front of a commissioned officer who of course said nothing but did smile at our obvious discomfort. I assumed from this that even if we did see more officers around the cadet area, it would not matter. They too were clearly part of the process to winnow out those not strong enough to survive in Beast. I had grown up in the Army and was a semi-permanent fixture in my dad’s units when he was commanding starting at the age of 7 in Germany. I knew what good officer and NCO leadership looked like and was somewhat disappointed not to see more of it at the Academy.
Needless to say, when supper rolled around, we were not allowed to take big bites and in fact all of us were told to pass our plates out to the waiter’s table because we “had gotten plenty to eat at the dinner meal” to paraphrase our fearless leader with the explicatives deleted. Our squad leader bragged to his classmates over supper how he had really screwed us over with the knockwurst and German potato salad on our swim test! Several of them were not amused so maybe there was hope after all.
So, what’s the point of all this you ask? Well, the squad leader violated the very first principle of leadership which is to do everything within your power to see that your subordinates are successful, and to do so in a positive and not a negative manner. It is an absolute violation of leadership principles to deliberately take actions to cause your subordinates to fail or not do well. Additionally, soldiers can be forcibly driven to an extent to achieve the mission but will perform infinitely better if they are properly led to achieve the mission. When it also becomes their mission and not just because the leader said so, wonderful things can and do happen. Good leaders are expected to serve their subordinates by setting the conditions for their success. We had been poorly served in this regard during the first half of Beast. I have often wondered if the absence of commissioned officers during Beast was deliberate and the antics of the upperclassmen were expected and condoned. I would hope not but the Army was a harder, more indifferent place in 1968 than it is today.
I was to see a total transformation in my squad during the second half of Beast when we got a new squad leader and also an assistant squad leader which we had not had before. They called us into their room once they took over and explained their philosophy of leadership and their purpose. We were allowed to be at ease and even sit on their bunks and chairs while they did this. They said neither one of them believed in hazing or screaming and both believed very strongly that their job was to train us to be soldiers, cadets and more importantly, future officers. They knew we had been through the grinder with our previous squad leader and had lost three of our squad mates to resignation already in the first three weeks but did not speak to that other than to say things will be different from now on. They did not criticize our former squad leader by name or by inference to us. They just said that things would be different and left it at that.
The only thing they asked in return was for us to do our very best and to pull together as a squad. I was finally seeing and hearing what I had expected to see and hear when I arrived at the Military Academy over three weeks earlier. The rest of Beast wasn’t a cake walk, but it was very professionally done by our squad leadership. The squad leader (Jim Oxley) would be the captain of the basketball team his Firstie year and our assistant squad leader (Bill Malkemes) would be the captain of the tennis team; both excellent athletes and excellent leaders.
Those of us in that squad learned or saw both ends of the leadership spectrum. Even though the first three weeks were the negative side, there were lessons to be learned from it. Specifically, what not to do. We were very fortunate to see what to do on the other end of the spectrum. Specifically, what right in leadership looks like.
I was to experience many further examples of bad leadership over the next thirty-four years. Sometimes as an observer and other times as the target. Neither situation was pleasant, but all were instructive. I was also fortunate to witness and receive many more instances of good leadership during those years which I always strove to emulate.
My next post will be about cadet Army Orientation Training (AOT) in the 1st Infantry Division at Fort Riley, Kansas. I was in the 1st Battalion 28th Infantry Regiment in July/August of 1970. Briefly, I and a classmate named Danny Merritt were welcomed by the battalion commander with these words, “I did not want any of you cadets in my battalion but it wasn’t optional. There are not any “effing” ring knockers in my battalion. So welcome and get out of my office!” We were at a position of attention to receive this welcoming speech from the battalion commander and at the end executed an about face and departed. Again, learning how not to be…