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THE ARMED FORCES OFFICER
[Illustration]
Department of Defense
United States
Government Printing Office
Washington: 1950
OFFICE OF THE SECRETARY OF DEFENSE
WASHINGTON
_November 1950_
_This manual on leadership has been prepared for use by the Department
of Army, the Department of Navy, and the Department of Air Force, and
is published for the information and guidance of all concerned._
[Illustration: (Signature) G. C. Marshall]
DEPARTMENT OF THE ARMY
WASHINGTON 25, D. C., _20 June 1956_
Department of the Army Pamphlet 600-2, The Armed Forces Officer, is
issued for the use of all concerned.
By Order of _Wilber M. Brucker_, Secretary of the Army:
MAXWELL D. TAYLOR,
_General, United States Army,
Chief of Staff._
Official:
JOHN A. KLEIN,
_Major General, United States Army,
The Adjutant General._
THE
ARMED FORCES
OFFICER
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THE MEANING OF YOUR COMMISSION 1
II. FORMING MILITARY IDEALS 14
III. RESPONSIBILITY AND PRIVILEGE 25
IV. PLANNING YOUR CAREER 32
V. RANK AND PRECEDENCE 41
VI. CUSTOMS AND COURTESIES 50
VII. KEEPING YOUR HOUSE IN ORDER 63
VIII. GETTING ALONG WITH PEOPLE 69
IX. LEADERS AND LEADERSHIP 79
X. MAINSPRINGS OF LEADERSHIP 93
XI. HUMAN NATURE 99
XII. GROUP NATURE 110
XIII. ENVIRONMENT 121
XIV. THE MISSION 131
XV. DISCIPLINE 139
XVI. MORALE 147
XVII. ESPRIT 158
XVIII. KNOWING YOUR JOB 166
XIX. KNOWLEDGE OF YOUR MEN 176
XX. WRITING AND SPEAKING 182
XXI. THE ART OF INSTRUCTION 196
XXII. YOUR RELATIONSHIPS WITH YOUR MEN 206
XXIII. YOUR MEN'S MORAL AND PHYSICAL WELFARE 213
XXIV. KEEPING YOUR MEN INFORMED 222
XXV. COUNSELING YOUR MEN 228
XXVI. USING REWARD AND PUNISHMENT 240
XXVII. FITTING MEN TO JOBS 246
XXVIII. AMERICANS IN COMBAT 255
APPENDIX
I. RECOMMENDED READING 264
CHAPTER ONE
THE MEANING OF YOUR COMMISSION
Upon being commissioned in the Armed Services of the United States, a
man incurs a lasting obligation to cherish and protect his country and
to develop within himself that capacity and reserve strength which
will enable him to serve its arms and the welfare of his fellow
Americans with increasing wisdom, diligence, and patriotic conviction.
This is the meaning of his commission. It is not modified by any
reason of assignment while in the service, nor is the obligation
lessened on the day an officer puts the uniform aside and returns to
civil life. Having been specially chosen by the United States to
sustain the dignity and integrity of its sovereign power, an officer
is expected so to maintain himself, and so to exert his influence for
so long as he may live, that he will be recognized as a worthy symbol
of all that is best in the national character.
In this sense the trust imposed in the highest military commander in
the land is not more than what is encharged the newest ensign or
second lieutenant. Nor is it less. It is the fact of commission which
gives special distinction to the man and in turn requires that the
measure of his devotion to the service of his country be distinctive,
as compared with the charge laid upon the average citizen.
In the beginning, a man takes an oath to uphold his country's
Constitution against all enemies foreign and domestic, to bear true
faith and allegiance, and to discharge well and faithfully the duties
of office. He does this without any mental reservation.
Thereafter he is given a paper which says that because the President
as a representative of the people of this country reposes "special
trust and confidence" in his "patriotism, valor, fidelity, and
abilities," he is forthwith commissioned.
By these tokens, the Nation also becomes a party to the contract, and
will faithfully keep its bond with the man. While he continues to
serve honorably, it will sustain him and will clothe him with its
dignity. That it has vouched for him gives him a felicitous status in
our society. The device he wears, his insignia, and even his garments
identify him directly with the power of the United States. The living
standards of himself and of his family are underwritten by Federal
statute. Should he become ill, the Nation will care for him. Should he
be disabled, it will stand as his guardian through life. Should he
seek to advance himself through higher studies, it will open the way.
Other than the officer corps, there is no group within our society
toward which the obligation of the Nation is more fully expressed.
Even so, other Americans regard this fact with pride, rather than with
envy. They accept the principle that some unusual advantage should
attend exceptional and unremitting responsibility. Whatever path an
American officer may walk, he enjoys prestige. Though little is known
of his intrinsic merit, he will be given the respect of his fellow
citizens, unless he proves himself utterly undeserving.
This national esteem for the corps is one of the priceless assets of
American security. The services themselves so recognize it. That they
place such strong emphasis upon the importance of personal honor among
officers is because they know that the future of our arms and the
well-being of our people depend upon a constant renewing and
strengthening of public faith in the virtue of the corps. Were this to
languish, the Nation would be loath to commit its sons to any military
endeavor, no matter how grave the emergency.
The works of goodwill by which those who lead the national military
forces endeavor to win the unreserved trust of the American people is
one of the chief preservatives of the American system of freedoms. The
character of the corps is in a most direct sense a final safeguard of
the character of the Nation.
To these thoughts any officer who is morally deserving of his
commission would freely subscribe. He will look beyond the letter of
his obligation and will accept in his own heart the total implications
of his new responsibility.
So doing, he still might see fit to ask: "But to what do I turn my
thoughts? How do I hold myself so that while following the line of
duty, I will also exemplify those ideals which may inspire other men
to make their best effort?"
It is suggested that there is a one-word key to the answer among the
four lofty qualities which are cited on every man's commission.
That word is _Fidelity_.
As for patriotism, either a man loves his country or else he would not
seek commission at its hands, unless he be completely the rascal,
pretending to serve in order to destroy.
Valor, on the other hand, can not be fully vouchsafed, since it is not
given to any man to know the nature and depth of his personal courage.
Abilities vary from man to man, and are partly what heredity and
environment have made them. If nature had not imposed a ceiling, mere
striving would make every man a genius.
But Fidelity is the derivative of personal decision. It is the jewel
within reach of every man who has the will to possess it.
Given an officer corps composed throughout of men who would make the
eternal try toward bettering their professional capacities and
furthering the working efficiency and harmony within all forces, the
United States would become thrice-armed though not producing one new
weapon in its arsenals.
Great faith, rightness of mind, influence over other men, and finally,
personal success and satisfaction come of service to the ideals of the
profession. Were these strengths reflected throughout the officer
body, it could well happen that because of the shining example, the
American people would become more deeply conscious of the need to keep
their own fibers strong than has been their disposition throughout
history.
Accepting these truths as valid, a man still must know where he stands
before making a true reckoning of his line of advance. This entails
some consideration of himself (_a_) as to the personal standard which
is required of him because of his position in relation to all others
(_b_) as to the reasons in common sense which make this requirement,
and (_c_) as to the principles and philosophy which will enable him to
play his part well.
The military officer is considered a gentleman, not because Congress
wills it, nor because it has been the custom of people in all times to
afford him that courtesy, but specifically because nothing less than a
gentleman is truly suited for his particular set of responsibilities.
This is not simply a bit of self-adulation; it is distinctly the
American tradition in the matter. The Nation has never attempted to
draw its officers from a particular class. During World War II,
thousands of men were commissioned in our forces who had enjoyed
little opportunity in their earlier environments. They were sound men
by nature. They had courage. They could set a good example. They could
rally other men around them. In the eyes of the services, these things
count more than any man's blood lines. We say with Voltaire, "Whoever
serves his country well has no need of ancestors."
On the other hand, from the time of the Colonies, this country has
despised press gangs, floggings, martinetism, and all of the other Old
World military practices which demeaned the rank and file. Its
military system was founded on the dignity of man, just as was its
Constitution. The system has sought ever since to advance itself by
appealing to the higher nature of the individual. That is why its
officers need to be gentlemen. To call forth great loyalty in other
people and to harness it to any noble undertaking, one must first be
sensible of their finer instincts and feelings. Certainly these things
at least are among the gentle qualities which are desired in every
military officer of the United States:
1. Strong belief in human rights.
2. Respect for the dignity of every other person.
3. The Golden Rule attitude toward one's daily associates.
4. An abiding interest in all aspects of human welfare.
5. A willingness to deal with every man as considerately as if he
were a blood relative.
These qualities are the epitome of strength, not of softness. They
mark the man who is capable of pursuing a great purpose consistently
in spite of temptations. He who possesses them will all the more
surely be regarded as a "man among men." Take any crowd of new
recruits! The greater number of them during their first few days in
service will use more profanity and obscenity, talk more about women
and boast more about drinking than they have ever done in their lives,
because of the mistaken idea that this is the quick way to get a
reputation for being hard-boiled. But at the same time, the one or two
men among them who stay decent, talk moderately and walk the line of
duty will uniquely receive the infinite respect of the others. It
never fails to happen!
There is the other matter about how a man should feel toward his own
profession. Simply to accept the fact that the bearing of arms is a
highly honorable calling because the book says so should not suffice
one's own interest in the matter, when a little personal reflection
will reveal wherein the honor resides.
To every officer who has thought earnestly about the business, it is
at once apparent that civilization, as men have known it since the
time of the Greek City States, has rested as a pyramid upon a base of
organized military power. Moreover, the general possibility of world
cultural progress in the foreseeable future has no other conceivable
foundation. For any military man to deny, on any ground whatever, the
role which his profession has played in the establishment of
everything which is well-ordered in our society, shows only a faulty
understanding of history. It made possible the birth of the American
system of freedoms. Later, it gave the nation a new birth and
vouchsafed a more perfect union.
Likewise, we need to see the case in its present terms. One may abhor
war fully, despise militarism absolutely, deplore all of the impulses
in human nature which make armed force necessary, and still agree that
for the world as we know it, the main hope is that "peace-loving
nations can be made obviously capable of defeating nations which are
willing to wage aggressive war." Those words, by the way, were not
said by a warrior, but by the eminent pacifist, Bertrand Russell. It
does not make the military man any less the humanitarian that he
accepts this reality, that he faces toward the chance forthrightly,
and that he believes that if all military power were stricken
tomorrow, men would revert to a state of anarchy and there would ensue
the total defeat of the forces which are trying to establish peace and
brotherly love in our lives.
The complete identity of American military forces with the character
of the people comes of this indivisibility of interest. To think of
the military as a guardian class apart, like Lynkeus "born for vision,
ordained for watching," rather than as a strong right arm, corporately
joined to the body and sharing its every function, is historically
false and politically inaccurate. It is not unusual, however, for
those whose task it is to interpret the trend of opinion to take the
line that "the military" are thinking one way and "the people" quite
another on some particular issue, as if to imply that the two are
quite separate and of different nature. This is usually false in
detail, and always false in general. It not only discounts the objects
of their unity but overlooks the truth of its origins.
Maybe they should be invited to go to the root of the word. The true
meaning of "populus," from which we get the word "people," was in the
time of ancient Rome the "armed body." The pure-blooded Roman in the
days of the Republic could not conceive of a citizen who was not a
warrior. It was the arms which a Roman's possession of land enabled
him to get that qualified him to participate in the affairs of state.
He had no political rights until he had fought. _He was not of the
people; they were of him!_ Nor is this concept alien to the ideals on
which the Founding Fathers built the American system, since they
stated it as the right and duty of every able-bodied citizen to bear
arms.
These propositions should mean much to every American who has chosen
the military profession. A main point is that on becoming an officer a
man does not renounce any part of his fundamental character as an
American citizen. He has simply signed on for the post graduate course
where one learns how to exercise authority in accordance with the
spirit of liberty. The nature of his trusteeship has been subtly
expressed by an Admiral in our service: "The American philosophy
places the individual above the state. It distrusts personal power and
coercion. It denies the existence of indispensable men. It asserts the
supremacy of principle."
An understanding of American principles of life and growth, and
personal zeal in upholding them, is the bedrock of sound leading in
our services. Moral and emotional stability are expected of an
American officer; he can usually satisfy his superiors if he attains
to this equilibrium. But he is not likely to satisfy himself unless he
can also achieve that maturity of character which expresses itself in
the ability to make decisions in detachment of spirit from that which
is pleasant or unpleasant to him personally, in the desire to hold
onto things not by grasping them but by understanding them and
remembering them, and in learning to covet only that which may be
rightfully possessed.
An occasional man has become wealthy while in the services by making
wise investments, through writings, by skill at invention, or through
some other means. But he is the exception. The majority have no such
prospect. Indeed, if love of money were the mainspring of all American
action, the officer corps long since would have disintegrated. But it
is well said that the only truly happy people on earth are those who
are indifferent to money because they have some positive purpose which
forecloses it. Than the service, there is no other environment which
is more conducive to the leading of the full life by the individual
who is ready to accept the word of the philosopher that the only
security on earth is the willingness to accept insecurity as an
inevitable part of living. Once an officer has made this passage into
maturity, and is at peace with himself because the service means more
to him than all else, he will find kinship with the great body of his
brothers-in-arms. The highest possible consequence can develop from
the feelings of men mutually inspired by some great endeavor and
moving forward together according to the principle that only those who
are willing to serve are fit to lead. Completely immersed in action,
they have no time for smallness in speech, thought or deed. It is for
these reasons that those who in times past have excelled in the
leadership of American forces have invariably been great Americans
first and superior officers second. The rule applies at all levels.
The lieutenant who is not moved at the thought that he is serving his
country is unlikely to do an intelligent job of directing other men.
He will come apart at the seams whenever the going grows tough. Until
men accept this thought freely, and apply it to their personal action,
it is not possible for them to go forward together strongly. In the
words of Lionel Curtis: "The only force that unites men is conscience,
a varying capacity in most of them to put the interests of other
people before their own."
The services are accustomed to being hammered. Like other human
institutions, they are imperfect. Therefore the criticisms are not
always unjust. Further, there is no more reason why the services
should be immune to attack than any other organic part of our society
and government.
The service officer is charged only to take a lively interest in all
such discussions. He has no more right to condemn the service unfairly
than has any other American. On the other hand he is not expected to
be an intellectual eunuch, oblivious to all of the faults in the
institution to which he gives his loyalty. To the contrary, the nature
of that loyalty requires that he will use his force toward the
righting of those things which reason convinces him are going wrong,
though making certain that his action will not do more damage than
repair.
His ultimate commanding loyalty at all times is to his country, and
not to his service or his superior. He owes it to his country to speak
the truth as he sees it. This implies a steadying judgment as to when
it should be spoken, and to whom it should be addressed. A truth need
not only be well-rounded, but the utterance of it should be cognizant
of the stresses and objectives of the hour. Truth becomes falsehood
unless it has the strength of perspective. The presentation of facts
is self-justifying only when the facts are developed in their true
proportion.
Where there is public criticism of the services, in matters both large
and small, the service officer has the right and the duty of
intervention only toward the end of making possible that all criticism
will be well-informed. That right can not be properly exercised when
there is nothing behind it but a defense of professional pride. The
duty can be well performed when the officer knows not only his
subject--the mechanism itself--but the history and philosophy of the
armed services in their relation to the development of the American
system. Criticism from the outside is essential to service well-being,
for as Confucius said, oftentimes men in the game are blind to what
the lookers on see clearly.
The value of any officer's opinion of any military question can never
be any greater than the extent and accuracy of his information. His
ability to dispose public thought favorably toward the service will
depend upon the wisdom of his words rather than upon his military rank
and other credentials. A false idea will come upon a bad fate even
though it has the backing of the highest authority.
Only men of informed mind and unprejudiced expression can strengthen
the claim of the services on the affections of the American people.
This is, of itself, a major objective for the officer corps, since our
public has little studious interest in military affairs, tends ever to
discount the vitality of the military role in the progress and
prosperity of the nation and regards the security problem as one of
the less pleasant and abnormal burdens on an otherwise orderly
existence.
It is an explicable contradiction of the American birthright that to
some of our people the military establishment is at best a necessary
evil, and military service is an extraordinary hardship rather than an
inherent obligation. Yet these illusions are rooted deep in the
American tradition, though it is a fact to be noted not without hope
that we are growing wiser as we move along. In the years which
followed the American Revolution, the new union of States tried to
eliminate military forces altogether. There was vast confusion of
thought as to what freedom required for its own survival. Thomas
Jefferson, one of the great architects of democracy, and still
renowned for his "isolationist" sentiments, wrote the warning: "We
must train and classify the whole of our male citizens, and make
military instruction a regular part of collegiate education. We can
never be safe until this is done."
None the less, the hour came when the standing Army was reduced to 80
men. None the less, the quaint notion has survived that an enlightened
interest in military affairs is somehow undemocratic. And none the
less, recurring war has invariably found the United States
inadequately prepared for the defense of its own territory.
Because there has been a holdover of these mistaken sentiments right
down to the present, there persists in many military officers a
defensive attitude toward their own profession which has no practical
relation to the strength of the ground on which they are enabled to
stand. Toward any unfair and flippant criticism of the "military mind"
they react with resentment, instead of with buoyant proof that their
own minds are more plastic and more receptive to national ideals than
those of any other profession. Where they should approach all problems
of the national security with the zeal of the missionary, seeking and
giving light, they treat this subject as if it were a private game
preserve.
It suffices to say of this minority that they are a barnacle on the
hull of an otherwise staunch vessel. From such limited concepts of
personal responsibility, there can not fail to develop a foreshortened
view of the dignity of the task at hand. The note of apology is
injected at the wrong time; the tone of belligerency is used when it
serves no purpose. When someone arises within the halls of government
to say that the military establishment is "uneconomic" because it cuts
no bricks, bales no hay and produces nothing which can be vended in
the market places, it is not unusual to hear some military men concur
in this strange notion. That acquiescence is wholly unbecoming.
The physician is not slurred as belonging to a nonproductive
profession because he contributes only to the care and healing of the
body, and through these things to the general well-being of society.
Respect for formal education, organized religion and all of the
enterprises built up around the dissemination of ideas is not the less
because the resultant benefit to society is not always tangible and
saleable. Hence to say that that without which society could not
endure in its present form is "uneconomic" is to make the word itself
altogether meaningless.
In that inner power of courage and conviction which stems from the
spiritual integrity of the individual, lies the strength of democracy.
As to their ability to produce toward these ends, the military
services can stand on the record. When shortly after World War II, a
census was taken among the returned men, 60 percent said that they had
been _morally strengthened_ by their military service in the American
uniform. About 30 percent had no opinion or felt that military life
had not changed them one way or the other. An insignificant minority
considered themselves damaged. This is an amazing testimony in light
of the fact that only a small fraction of American youth is schooled
to believe that any spiritual good can come of military service. As to
what it signifies, those who take a wholly materialistic view of the
objects of the Republic are entitled to call the military
establishment "uneconomic." The services will continue to hold with
the idea that strong nationhood comes not of the making of gadgets but
of the building of character.
Men beget goodwill in other men by giving it. They develop courage in
their following mainly as a reflection of the courage which they show
in their own action. These two qualities of mind and heart are of the
essence of sound officership. One is of little avail without the
other, and either helps to sustain the other. As to which is the
stronger force in its impact upon the masses of men, no truth is more
certain than the words once written by William James: "Evident though
the shortcomings of a man may be, if he is ready to give up his life
for a cause, we forgive him everything. However inferior he may be to
ourselves in other respects, if we cling to life while he throws it
away like a flower, we bow to his superiority."
Theodore Roosevelt once said that if he had a son who refrained from
any worthwhile action because of the fear of hurt to himself, he would
disown him. Soon after his return to civilian life, Gen. Dwight D.
Eisenhower spoke of the worthwhileness of "living dangerously." An
officer of the United States armed forces can not go far wrong if he
holds with these ideas. It is not the suitable profession for those
who believe only in digging-in and nursing a soft snap until death
comes at a ripe old age. Who risks nothing gains nothing.
Nor should there be any room in it for professional smugness, small
jealousies, and undue concern about privilege.
The regular recognizes as his peer and comrade the officer from any of
the civilian components. That he is a professional does not give him
an especial eminence, but simply a greater measure of responsibility
for the success of the total establishment. Moreover, he can not
afford to be patronizing, without risking self-embarrassment, such is
the vast experience which many reservists have had on the active field
of war.
Toward services other than his own, any officer is expected to have
both a comradely feeling and an imaginative interest. Any Army officer
is a better man for having studied the works of Admiral Mahan and
familiarized himself with the modern Navy from first-hand experience.
Those who lead sea-going forces can enlarge their own capacities by
knowing more, rather than less, about the nature of the air and ground
establishments. The submariner can always learn something useful to
his own work by mingling with airmen; the airman becomes a better
officer as he grows in qualified knowledge of ground and sea fighting.
But the fact remains that the services are not alike, that no wit of
man can make them alike, and that the retention by each of its
separate character, customs and confidence is essential to the
conserving of our national military power. Unification has not altered
this basic proposition. The first requirement of a unified
establishment is moral soundness in each of the integral parts,
without which there can be no soundness at all. And on the question of
fundamental loyalty, the officer who loves every other service just as
much as his own will have just as much active virtue as the man who
loves other women as much as his own wife.
CHAPTER TWO
FORMING MILITARY IDEALS
Any stranger making a survey of what Americans are and how they get
that way would probably see it as a paradox that within the armed
establishment the inculcation of ideals is considered the most vital
of all teaching, while in our gentler and less rigid institutions,
there is steadily less emphasis on this subject.
He would be entitled to the explanation that it is not so done because
this has always been the way of Armies, Navies, and other fighting
forces, or because it is universal in the military establishments of
the twentieth century, but because nothing else would better suffice
the American military system under present conditions.
There are two main reasons why.
The first is that we are an altogether unregimented people, with a
strong belief in the virtues of rugged individualism and in the right
of the average man to go along about as he pleases, so long as he does
not do actual injury to society. Voluntary group cooperation rather
than absolute group loyalty, developing from a strong spiritual bond,
is the basic technic of Americans in their average rounds. It is
enough to satisfy the social, political and economic needs of a
democracy, but in its military parts, it would be fatally weak. There
would be no possibility of achieving an all-compelling unity under
conditions of utmost pressure if no man felt any higher call to action
than what was put upon him by purely material considerations.
Military ideals are therefore, as related to this purpose, mainly an
instrument of national survival. But not altogether so, since in the
measure that they influence the personal life and conduct of millions
of men who move in and out of the services, they have a regenerative
effect upon the spiritual fiber of the Nation as a whole.
There is the second and equally important reason that, whereas wars
have sometimes been fought for ideal causes, as witness the American
Revolution and Civil War, war itself is never ideal, and the character
of our people is such as to insist that from our side, its brutalities
be minimized. The barbarian who kills for killing's sake and who
scorns the laws of war at any point is repugnant to the instincts of
our people, under whatever flag he fights. If we did not have some men
of this type among us, our penitentiaries would not be filled. The
ravages which they might commit when all of the barriers are down on
the battlefield can be prevented only when forces as a whole believe
that armed power, while not ideal in itself, must be made to serve
ideal ends.
To speak of ethics in the same breath with war may seem like sheer
cant and hypocrisy. But in the possibility that those who best
understand the use and nature of armed power may excel all others in
stimulating that higher morality which may some day restrain war lies
a main chance for the future. The Armed Services of the United States
do not simply do lip service to such institutions as United Nations.
They encourage their people to take a deep personal interest in every
legitimate activity aimed to bulwark world peace. But while doing
this, they keep their powder dry.
Military ideals are not different than the ideals which make any man
sound in himself, and in his relation to others. They are called
military ideals only because the proving ground is a little more
rugged in the service than elsewhere. But they are all founded in hard
military experience; they did not find expression because some Admiral
got it in his head one day to set an unattainable goal for his men, or
because some General wished to turn a pious face toward the public,
professing that his men were aspiring to greater virtue than anything
the public knew.
The military way is a long, hard road, and it makes extraordinary
requirements of every individual. In war, particularly, it puts
stresses upon men such as they have not known elsewhere, and the
temptation to "get out from under" would be irresistible if their
spirits had not been tempered to the ordeal. If nothing but fear of
punishments were depended upon to hold men to the line during extreme
trial, the result would be wholesale mutiny and a situation altogether
beyond the control of leadership. So it must be true that _it is out
of the impact of ideals mainly that men develop the strength to face
situations from which it would be normal to run away_.
Also, during the normal routine of peace, members of the Armed
Services are expected to respond to situations that are more
extensive, more complex, and take longer to reach fulfillment than the
situations to which the majority of men instinctively respond. Even
the length of the enlistment period looks like a slow march up a
60-mile grade. Promotion is slow, duty frequently monotonous. It is
all too easy for the individual to worry about his own insignificance
and to feel that he has become lost in the crowd. Under these
conditions a man may go altogether bad, or simply get lazy and rock
with the grain. But nothing except a strong belief in the ideals he is
serving will make him respond to the larger situation and give it his
best effort. Ideals have the intensely practical end of strengthening
men for the better discharge of duties which devolve upon them in
their day-to-day affairs.
What is the main test of human character? Probably it is this: that a
man will know how to be patient in the midst of hard circumstance, and
can continue to be personally effective while living through whatever
discouragements beset him and his companions. Moreover, that is what
every truly civilized man would want in himself during the calmer
moments when he compares critically what he is inside with what he
would like to be. That is specifically the reason why the promulgation
of military ideals is initially a problem in the first person,
singular. The Armed Services have in one sense a narrow motive in
turning the thoughts of younger leaders toward a belief in ideals.
They know that this is a lubricant in the machinery of organization
and the best way to sweeten the lives of men working together in a
group toward some worthwhile purpose. But there is also a higher
object. All experience has taught that it is likewise the best way to
give the individual man a solid foundation for living successfully
amid the facts of existence, irrespective of his situation. The
military system of the United States is not committed to grinding out
warriors _per se_, but to the training of men in such manner that they
will be able to play a better part anywhere, and will find greater
satisfactions in what they do. All the time, when the service seeks to
emphasize to its ranks what is the "right thing to do," it is speaking
of that course of conduct which in the long run is most necessary and
useful to the individual.
As to what one man should seek in himself, in order to be four-square
with his own life and all others who are related to his personal
situation, it is simple enough to formulate it, and to describe what
constitutes maturity of character. In fact, that can be done without
mentioning the words "patriotism" and "courage", which traditionally
and rightly are viewed as the very highest of the military virtues.
No man is truly fit for officership unless in the inner recess of his
being he can go along with the toast known to every American
schoolboy: "My country, in her intercourse with other nations may she
always be in the right! But right or wrong, my country!" And he will
never do a really good job of supporting her standards if, when the
clutch comes, he is lacking in intestinal fortitude.
But there is this to be said about the nature of courage and
patriotism, in the same breath that we agree they are essential in an
officer of the fighting establishment--neither of these qualities of
itself carries sufficient conviction, except as it is the product of
those homelier attributes which give dignity to all action, in things
both large and small, during the course of any average work day.
When Dr. Johnson remarked that patriotism is the last refuge of a
scoundrel he was not belittling the value of love of country as a
force in the lives of men, but to the contrary, was pointing out that
a profession of patriotism, unaccompanied by good works, was the mark
of a man not to be trusted. In no other institution in the land will
flag-waving fall as flat as in the Armed Services when the ranks know
that it is just an act, with no sincere commitment to service backing
it up. But the uniformed forces will still respond to the real
article with the same emotion that they felt at Bunker Hill and Manila
Bay.
There is a Civil War story from one of the campaigns against Stonewall
Jackson in the Valley. A Confederate who had had his leg shot away
turned on his pallet to regard a Union private who had just lost an
arm, and said to him, "For what reason did you invade us and make all
this trouble?" The boy replied simply: "For the old flag." That may
sound like sentiment from a distant past. But turn to the story of
Major Devereux and the Marine defense of Wake Island. He wrote that
the "music" had always gone sour, and had invariably broken down when
he tried to play "The Colors." But on the morning of Pearl Harbor,
when the flag was raised, the garrison already knew that the war was
on. And for some reason which no man could account for, the bugler
rose to the occasion, and for the first time, every note came straight
and true. Devereux said that every throat tightened and every head
went higher. Yet Devereux was a remarkably unmelodramatic fighting
man.
But to get back to those simpler virtues which provide a firm
foundation for patriotism and may become the fount of courage, at
least these few things would have to be put among the fundamentals:
1. A man has honor if he holds himself to a course of conduct,
because of a conviction that it is in the general interest, even
though he is well aware that it may lead to inconvenience,
personal loss, humiliation or grave physical risk.
2. He has veracity if, having studied a question to the limit of
his ability, he says and believes what he thinks to be true, even
though it would be the path of least resistance to deceive others
and himself.
3. He has justice if he acknowledges the interests of all
concerned in any particular transaction rather than serving his
own apparent interest.
4. He has graciousness if he acts and speaks forthrightly, agrees
warmly, disagrees fairly and respectfully, participates
enthusiastically, refrains from harboring grudges, takes his
reverses in stride, and does not complain or ask for help in the
face of trifling calamities.
5. He has integrity if his interest in the good of the service is
at all times greater than his personal pride, and when he holds
himself to the same line of duty when unobserved as he would
follow if all of his superiors were present.
The list could be longer, but for the moment, we can let it go at
that. These standards are not counsels of perfection; thousands of
officers have adhered to them. But it should be said as well that if
all leaders at the lower levels in all of the services were to conform
in the same way, the task of higher command would be simplicity
itself. The cause of much of the friction in the administrative
machinery is that at all levels there are individuals who insist on
standing in their own light. They believe that there is some special
magic, some quick springboard to success; they mistakenly think that
it can be won by bootlicking, apple-polishing, yessing higher
authority, playing office politics, throwing weight around, ducking
the issues, striving for cheap popularity, courting publicity or
seeking any and all means of grabbing the spotlight.
Any one of this set of tricks may enable a man to carry the ball
forward a yard or two in some special situation. But at least this
comment can be made without qualification: Of the men who have risen
to supreme heights in the fighting establishment of the United States,
and have had their greatness proclaimed by their fellow countrymen,
there is not one career which provides any warrant for the conclusion
that there is a special shortcut known only to the smart operators.
True enough, a few men have gained fairly high rank by dint of what
the late Mr. Justice Holmes called "the instinct for the jugular"--a
feeling for when to jump, where to press and how to slash in order to
achieve somewhat predatory personal ends. That will occasionally
happen in any walk of life. But from Washington, Wayne, and Jones down
to Eisenhower, Vandegrift, and Nimitz, the men best loved by the
American people for their military successes were also men with
greatness of soul. In short, they were idealists, though they likely
would have disclaimed that label, since it somehow connotes the
visionary rather than the intensely practical man.
But it isn't necessary to look at the upper brackets of history to
find the object lesson. The things that any man remembers about his
own father with love and reverence have to do with his forbearance,
his charity toward other men, his strength and rightness of will and
his readiness to contribute of his force to the good of other people.
Or if not his father, then it may be an uncle, a neighbor or one of
his schoolmasters.
In one way, however, it illuminates but half the subject to reflect
that a man has to find purpose in himself before he can seek purpose
in any of the undertakings of which he is a part or in the society of
which he is a member. No man is wholly sufficient unto himself even
though he has been schooled from infancy to live according to
principles. His character and the moral strength from which he gains
peace of mind need constantly to be replenished by the force of other
individuals who think and act more or less in tune with him. His
ability to remain whole, and to bound back from any depression of the
spirit, depends in some measure on the chance that they will be
upgrading when he is on the downswing. To read what the wisest of the
philosophers have written about the formation of human character is
always a stimulating experience; but it is better yet to live next to
the man who already possesses what the philosophers are talking about.
During World War II, there were quite a few higher commanders relieved
in our forces because it was judged, for one reason or another, that
they had failed in battle. Of the total number, there were a few who
took a reduction in rank, went willingly to a lower post in a fighting
command, uttered no complaint, kept their chins up, worked
courageously and sympathetically with their commands, and provided an
example of manhood that all who saw them will never forget. Though
their names need not be mentioned, they were imprinted with the real
virtue of the services even more deeply than many of their colleagues
who had no blemishes on their records. Their character had met the
ultimate test. The men who had the privilege of working close to them
realized this and the sublime effect of this personal influence helped
strengthen the resolve of many others.
Because there is so much at stake in the matter, the services cannot
depend solely upon such influence as would be exerted on their affairs
by the occasional idealist, but must work for that chain reaction
which comes of making the inculcation of military ideals one of the
cardinal points of a strong, uniting inner doctrine. It is altogether
necessary that as a body, the power of their thought be shaped along
ideal lines. The ideal object must be held high at all times, even
though it is recognized that men are not perfect, and that no matter
how greatly they may aspire, they will occasionally fail. Nor is the
effort to lead other men to believe in the transcendent importance of
goodwill made less effective because the leader has a conscience about
his own weakness, _provided he has the good sense not to flaunt it_.
He need not be a paragon of all the virtues to set an example which
will convince other men that his ideas are worth following. No man
alive possesses perfect virtue, which fact is generally understood.
Many an otherwise ideal commander is ruthless in his exactions upon
his staff; many a petty officer, who has won the absolute love of all
men with whom he served, has found himself in the middle because he
couldn't think straight about his debts. But these things do not
lessen the impact upon men of thinking together about common ideals
and working together toward the fulfillment of some high obligation.
The pursuit of ideals culminates in the experience of mutual growth.
If that were not so, men who have served the arms of the United States
would not continue to have a special respect for the uniform, and an
extra reverence for the flag, for years after they have passed from
the service. These emotions are not the consequence of habit, but come
of having known the comradeship of other men whom they loved and
respected, who shared these same thoughts, and believed in the same
body of ideals.
Any normal man loves his country and it is natural in him to regard
highly the symbols through which this affection is expressed. An
American child of kindergarten age already feels an emotional
attachment for the national emblem. The recruit who has just entered
upon service can begin to understand that his regard for his uniform
must be a far different thing than what he felt about his civilian
dress, since it is identified with the dignity of the Nation. His
training in military ideals starts at this point, and for the main
part is carried forward subtly, by transfer of this same feeling to
all other objects associated with his military life. His perseverance
in the care of weapons, in keeping his living quarters orderly and in
doing his full share of work is best insured, not through fear of
punishments, but by stimulating his belief that any other way of going
is unworthy of a member of a fighting service.
Precision in personal habits, precision in drill and precision in
daily living are the high road to that kind of discipline which best
insures cool and collected thought and unity of action on the field of
battle. When men, working together, successfully attain to a high
standard of orderliness, deportment and response, each to the other,
they develop the cohesive strength which will carry them through any
great crisis. For this reason mainly, military life is far more
exacting than civil life. But the services hold that what is best for
the many can be achieved without cramping the personal life or
blighting individuality and initiative. Within the frame of our
system, we can achieve obedience and discipline without destroying
independence and impulse.
This is idealism, though we seldom think about it in that light.
Further, it is all the better that in the beginning these impressions
are developed obliquely, rather than through the direct approach of
reading a lecture on ideals and ethics, since it means that the man is
assisted to reach certain conclusions by himself, and as Kant has
said, those things which a man learns pretty much on his own become
the ideas that he is least likely to forget.
Looking at this subject in its largest aspect, it should be perfectly
clear that any institution must know what its ideals are before it can
become coherent and confident, and that there must be present in the
form of clearly available ideas an imaginative conception of the good
at which the institution aims.
This is fully recognized in the American armed establishment. For many
years, the program of indoctrinating military ideals has been
inseparably linked with instruction in democratic ideals, teaching as
to the American way of life and clear statement of the policies and
purposes of the Government of the United States in its relations with
all others powers and peoples.
Moreover, it is an accepted principle in all services that this
mission can not be carried forward competently except by those
officers who are directly in charge of forces. It is not a job for
chaplains or orientation specialists, because it cannot flourish
unless it is in the hands of those leaders whom men know well and in
whom they place their confidence. When men are well led, they become
fully receptive to the whole body of ideas which their leaders see fit
to put before them.