This is his fifth (Really - I'm going to stop counting soon) article for Ranger Up and as always it ranges from being useful to grossly inappropriate to usefully grossly inappropriate and we love it. by Big Tobacco I did not smoke while composing this. I walk into the BDOC. It’s 0652. Sergeant Lambchop is in the BDOC. He is seven minutes late. “I need to talk to you,” I say. “Outside.” He sighs and lifts his heavy frame out of the chair. “About what?” He asks. “You’re late,” I say. He glares at me. “Hey, I’m just doin’ what you were doin’. You were here thirteen minutes before the hour, so I came here thirteen minutes before the hour.” Ok, then I guess we’ll do this inside. “Everybody get out,” I say. Screw it. The radios can watch themselves for a few minutes. The day and night shift shuffle out, eyeing each other. They know that Sergeant Lambchop just picked a fight with the wrong Jew. “It’s your attitude,” I say. “You’ve had a bad attitude the past few weeks. You’re late-“ “Hey, you were here thirteen minutes before the hour, so I got here thirteen minutes before the hour. That’s what you put in your counseling statement so if you’re leading by example, than I’m just following your example.” “That is not an accurate assessment,” I say. “Regardless, I was sitting and waiting for you for seven minutes. I went to the CP, came back, and you were here.” Granted, with his level of disrespect, I could have had this conversation at parade rest, but I consider parade rest to be the nuclear option. Once you lock a soldier up, you had better have exhausted all options first. “You want to know what my problem is?” He says. “My problem is I don’t like you. You are the only person here who drives me crazy. I can’t stand you. And a lot of other people on my team can’t stand you either. And I’m not the kind of guy who will talk behind your back. I’ll tell you to your face, you’re the problem.” How does one lead soldiers? What is leadership in a nutshell? Some would say that leadership is leading by example. But really, it’s more than that. Leadership is really the art of figuring out what motivates people and using that motivation to get them to do what you want. I wouldn’t call it manipulation; rather it’s the surgical application of human psychology to accomplish a task. In this case it was the task of getting a broken NCO to pull his head out of his ass. Sergeant Lambshop had been in my headquarters platoon once due to ongoing problems with his back. When the line companies needed men due to a mission change, Sergeant Lambchop’s back problems mysteriously vanished. Now he was back, reinjured and working in the BDOC with the rest of the benchwarmers on the injured list. How on earth was I supposed to lead him now? Flashback to the summer. My supply sergeant hands me a pistol. “What the hell am I supposed to do with this?” I ask. “You’re a platoon sergeant,” he says. “You’re supposed to have a pistol.” I look at the heavy black Beretta. I spent 14 years without a secondary weapon and I saw no need for one now. I was a headquarters platoon sergeant. If the bad guys ever popped up from behind my coffee pot, I had a lot more problems than not having a pistol “What if I don’t want it?” I ask. “What am I? A gunslinger? A cowboy? Goin’ to the rodeo?” “You’re leadership,” he says. “Leaders are supposed to carry a pistol.” Flash forward to a few weeks ago. I sit outside smoking a cigar with Sergeant Blade, the chief vehicle mechanic and a former member of my platoon. I had spent a good portion of my political capital getting Sergeant Blade promoted to sergeant. Even though my platoon had been broken up to fill up the line platoons, we still talked on occasion. “Can you do me a favor, sergeant?” He asks. “Sure,” I say. “You’re good at scrounging for stuff. One of my mechanics needs a pistol. He’s carrying his M4 all over the yard and has to bring it with him when we move vehicles. You know people and how to get stuff. I know we’re not your problem anymore, but do you think you can do me this one last favor?” “You guys will always be my problem,” I say. “If your guy needs it, I’ll give him mine.” “Oh, no sergeant. You’re supposed to have one, you’re leadership.” “I lead a damn coffee pot. I’ll talk with the supply sergeant and see if I can hand receipt mine to your mechanic.” I go to my supply sergeant that day. “Hey sergeant,” I say. “I want to sign my pistol over to one the mechanics.” “You can’t do that,” he says. “You’re leadership. You’re supposed to have a pistol.” “For what?” I ask. “I don’t even know if the damn thing works. I’ve never even fired it.” The supply sergeant glares at me. A mysterious ammunition shortage in Kuwait prevented anyone with a pistol from test firing the weapon before we entered Iraq. Rumors abounded as to the cause. “That wasn’t my fault,” he warned. Although I outranked the supply sergeant, he wasn’t a man you wanted to upset. “Listen. Talk to the XO. If he says it’s ok, then come back here and I’ll let you turn it in.” I find the XO. Take a wild guess what he said? “All of the leaders are supposed to have pistols.” “I know sir,” I say. “But this guy is dragging his M4 all over the maintenance yard. I just sit in the BDOC all day. I can do that with a rifle or a pistol. I just throw it in the rack anyway.” “He’s not your problem anymore.” “Sir, he was one of my men once. He’ll always be my problem.” “Fine,” he says. “Hand over your pistol to supply.” I day later, one of the mechanics seeks me out and shakes my hand. He is wearing a brand new shoulder holster and has my pistol safely tucked inside. “Thank you sergeant,” the mechanic said. “You have no idea how much I appreciate this.” “Don’t worry about it,” I say. “You’ll always be my problem.” So now I stand before Sergeant Lambchop - an E-5 who never quite made the cut. A man whom I know was motivated by dreams of glory and all of the heroics dreamed up by the Army of One - a man who wanted to kill Haji, but couldn’t even put in the effort to pass a PT test. “The fact is,” I say to Sergeant Lambchop. “That I don’t think that’s you talking. That’s the medication talking. I think you are frustrated at the mission and at what’s going on with your back. I know you need to be home getting this fixed, and I know the chain of command won’t send you home because we need the numbers. But I will talk with the first sergeant and the commander and see what I can do.” “I don’t want your help.” “But you are going to get it anyway. Whether you like me or not I’m still going to look out for you and treat you with respect. You will always be my problem.” Guess a leader doesn’t need a pistol after all? |
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