complex. War cannot be made less intricate by conjuring everyone to
return to kindergarten and henceforth use only one-syllable words. No
such counsel is here intended. The one thought worth keeping is that
the military system, as we know it, will prove far more workable, and
its members will each become a stronger link in the chain of force, if
all hands work a little more carefully toward the growth of a common
awareness of all terminology, all process and all purpose.
Once pronounced, the object also requires to be seen in due
proportion. The principle does not entail that a corporal must
perforce know everything about operation of a company which concerns
his captain, to be happy and efficient in his own job. But it does set
forth that he is entitled to have all information which relates to his
personal situation, his prospects and his action which it is within
his captain's power to give him. A coxswain is not interchangeable
with a fleet admiral. To "bigot" him (make available complete detail
of a total plan) on an operation would perhaps produce no better or
worse effect than a slight headache. But if he is at sea--in both
senses of that term--with no knowledge of where he is going or of his
chances of pulling through, and having been told of what will be
expected of him personally at the target, still has no picture of the
support which will be grouped around him, he is apt to be as
thoroughly miserable and demoralized as were the sailors under
Columbus, when sailing on and on, they came to fear that they would
override the horizon and go tumbling into space.
Lt. Gen. Sir Frederick Morgan wrote of the policy applied at his
COSSAC planning headquarters during World War II: "Right down to the
cook, they were told what had happened, what was happening, along with
their part in it, and what it was proposed to do next."
Paraphrasing Montaigne, President Roosevelt told the American people
during a great national crisis that the main thing they need fear was
fear itself. In matters great and small, the fears of men arise
chiefly from those matters they have not been given to understand.
Fear can be checked, whipped and driven from the field when men are
kept informed.
The dynamics of the information principle lies in this simple truth.
We look at the object through the wrong end of the telescope when in
the military service we think of information only as instruction in
the cause of country, the virtues of the free society and the record
of our arms, in the hope that we will make strong converts. These are
among the things that every American needs to know, but of themselves
they will not turn an average American male into an intelligent,
aggressive fighter. Invigorated action is the product of the free and
well-informed mind. The "will to do" comes of the confidence that
one's knowledge of what requires doing is equal to that of any other
man present.
This is the controlling idea and all constructive planning and work in
the field of information is shaped around it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
COUNSELING YOUR MEN
Among the ever-pressing problems of the commander, and equally of the
young officer schooling himself to the ways of the service, is the
seeking of means to break down the natural timidity and reticence of
the great majority of men.
This he can never do unless he is sufficient master of himself that he
can come out of his own shell and give his men a chance to understand
him as a human being rather than as an autocrat giving orders. Nothing
more unfortunate can happen to an officer than to come to be regarded
by his subordinates as unapproachable, for such a reputation isolates
him from the main problems of command responsibility as well as its
chief rewards. So holding himself, he will never be able to see his
forces in their true light, and will either have to exercise snap
judgment upon the main problems within his own sphere, or take the
word of others as to the factors on which promotions, rewards and
punishments are based within the unit.
When the block is due to an officer's own reticence, mistaken ideas
about the requirements of his position, or feeling of strangeness
toward his fellows, the only cure for him is to dive head-first into
the cold, clear water, like a boy at the old swimming hole in the
early spring. Thereby he will grow in self-confidence even as he
progresses in knowledge of the character of his men and of human
nature in general.
If an officer is senior, and is still somewhat on the bashful side, by
watching the manner of his own seniors when he gets counsel, and
thawing toward his immediate juniors, thereby increasing his
receptiveness toward them, there will occur a chain reaction to the
bottom level.
The block, however, is not always of the mind and heart. No man can
help his own face, but it can sometimes be a barrier to communication.
One commander in European Theater was told by his Executive that his
subordinates were fearful to approach him because of his perpetual
scowl. He assembled his officers and he said to them: "I have been
told that my looks are forbidding. The mirror reminds me of that every
morning. Years ago I was in a grenade explosion, and a consequent eye
injury and strain have done to me what you have to see every time we
get together. But if you cannot look beyond the face, and judge my
disposition by all else that you see of me in our work together, you
do not yet have the full perception that is commensurate with your
responsibility."
The too-formal manner, the overrigid attitude, the disposition to deal
with any human problem by-the-numbers as if it were only one more act
in organizational routine, can have precisely the same chilling effect
upon men as came of this officer's scowl. Though no man may move
wholly out of his own nature, a cheerfulness of manner in the doing of
work is altogether within any individual's capabilities, and is the
highest-test lubricant of his human relationships.
As a further safeguard against making himself inaccessible, the
officer needs to make an occasional check on the procedures which have
been established by his immediate subordinates. At all levels of
command it is the pet task of those "nearest the throne" to think up
new ways to keep all hands from "bothering the old man." However
positive an order to the contrary, they will not infrequently contrive
to circumvent it, mistakenly believing that by this act they save him
from himself. Many a compassionate commander leads an unwontedly
lonely life because of the peculiar solicitude of his staff in this
matter and his own failure to discover what is happening to him. In
this way the best of intentions may be thwarted. There is no sure cure
for the evil but personal reconnaissance.
It is never a waste of time for the commander, or for any officer, to
talk to his people about their personal problems. More times than not,
the problem will seem small to him, but so long as it looms large to
the man, it cannot be dismissed with a wave of the hand. Ridicule,
sarcasm and the brush-off are equally inexcusable in any situation
where one individual takes another into his confidence on any matter
which does not involve bad faith on the part of the petitioner. Even
then, if the man imparts that which shows that his own conduct has
been reprehensible or that he would enlist the support of his superior
in some unworthy act, it is better to hear him through and then skin
him, than to treat what he says in the offhand manner. An officer will
grow in the esteem of his men only as he treats their affairs with
respect. The policy of patience and goodwill pays off tenfold because
what happens to one man is soon known to the others.
In this particular there has been a radical change within the services
during the current century, simply because of broader understanding of
human relationships. In the Old Army, the man could get through to his
commander only if he could satisfy the First Sergeant as to the nature
of his business; this was a roadblock for the man who either was
afraid of the First Sergeant, or was loath to let the latter know
about his affairs. Custom dies hard and this one has not been entirely
uprooted. But the distance we have traveled toward humanizing all
command principles is best reflected by the words of General
Eisenhower in "Command in Europe": "Hundreds of broken-hearted
fathers, mothers, and sweethearts wrote me personal letters begging
for some hope that a loved one might still be alive, or for additional
detail as to the manner of his death. Every one of these I answered."
It is not necessary that an officer wet-nurse his men in order to
serve well in the role of counsel. His door should be open, but he
does not play the part either of a father confessor or of a hotel
greeter. Neither great solemnity nor effusiveness are called for, but
mainly serious attention to the problem, and then straight-forward
advice or decision, according to the nature of the case, _and provided
that from his own knowledge and experience he feels qualified to give
it_. If not, it is wiser to defer than to offer a half-baked opinion.
To consider for a time, and to seek light from others, whether higher
authority or one's closer associates, is the sound alternative when
there is a great deal at stake for the man and the problem is too
complex for its solution to be readily apparent. The spirit in which
this work should be undertaken is nowhere more clearly indicated than
in the words of Schuyler D. Hoslett who in his book, "Human Factor in
Management," said this: "Counseling is advising an individual on his
problem to the extent that an attempt is made to help him understand
it so he may carry out a plan for its solution. It is a process which
stimulates the individual's ability for self-direction."
Family affairs, frictions within the organization, personal
entanglements which prey upon the mind, frustrations and anxieties of
varying kind, the sense of failure and other nameless fears which are
rooted deep in the consciousness of nearly every individual, are the
more general subjects in counseling.
Whatever impairs the man that he wishes to take up with his officer
becomes ipso facto the officer's rightful business. Equally so, on the
positive side, when his only desire is to bring forward something that
he believes would serve the interests of organization, he should be
heard.
In either case, the perfecting of counsel develops around two
controlling ideas, stated in the order of their importance: (1) what
is in the best interests of the unit, and (2) what is for the good of
the man. In this particular, the officer as counselor is rarely in the
role of a disinterested party. Unlike the preacher, the lawyer, the
teacher or the best friend, he has to look beyond what is beneficial
simply to the spiritual, mental and moral need of one individual.
There is an abiding necessity to equate the personal problem to the
whole philosophy within which a command operates. _To keep in mind
that every individual has his breaking point is everlastingly
important. But to remember that the unit is also made of brittle stuff
is not less so._
When undue personal favors are granted, when precedents are set
without weighing the possible effects upon all concerned, when men are
incontinently urged, or even sympathetically humored by their
superiors toward the taking of a weak personal course, the ties of the
organization are injured, tension within it mounts and the ranks lose
respect for the manhood of their leaders.
All things are to be viewed in moderation, and with compassion, but
with a fine balance toward the central purpose. Let us take one
example. Within a given command, at a particular time, leaves have
been made so restricted, for command reasons, that there must be a
showing of genuine urgency. One man comes forward and says that he is
so sick for the sight of home that he can no longer take duty. As
certainly as his superior tries to facilitate this man's purpose
because of fear that he will break, the superior will be harassed by
other requests with no better basis, and if they are not granted,
there will be general discontent. On the other hand, suppose another
man comes forward. A wire from home has informed him that his mother
is dying. If the superior will not go to bat on such a case, he will
win the deserved contempt of the same men who were ready to take
advantage of the other opening, but in this instance would seek
nothing for themselves.
To know the record, the character and the measure of goodwill of the
subject is all-important in counseling. It puts the matter in much too
dim a light to say that after the call comes, the officer should check
up on these points so that he can deal knowledgeably with the man.
That is his first order of business within the unit--to learn all that
he can about the main characteristics of his men. This general duty
precedes the detail work of counseling. Under normal circumstances, no
officer is likely to have more than 250 men in his immediate charge.
There are exceptions, but this is broadly the rule. It is by no means
an excessive task for one individual to learn the names and a great
part of the history of the men he sees daily, when not knowing them
means that he has neglected the heart of operations.
What the man says of himself, in relation to the problem, deserves
always to be judged according to his own record. If he has proved
himself utterly faithful, action can be taken on the basis of his
word. If he is known to be a corner-cutter and a cheat, his case,
though listened-to with interest and sympathy, needs to be taken with
a grain of salt, pending further investigation.
World War II officers had to abide by this standard in dealing with
the general malaise which arose out of redeployment. When a man came
forward and said that he couldn't take it any more, and the commander
knew that he had always been a highly dutiful individual, it became
the commander's job to attempt to get the man home. But when a second
man came forward with the same story, and the record showed that he
had always shirked his work, the question was whether he should be
given the final chance to shirk it again. To favor the first man meant
furthering discipline; his comrades recognized it as a fair deal. To
turn back the second man was equally constructive to the same end. In
a general situation of unique pressure, commanders found that these
principles worked.
Many of the problems on which men seek advice of their officers are of
a legal nature; unless an officer is versed in the law, the inquiry
must be channeled to a qualified source. Other problems are of a kind
that use should be made of the home services of such an organization
as the Red Cross. A knowledge of the limits beyond which the help of a
special office or agency must be sought is therefore as important to
the officer-consultant as an ability to give the man full information
about the whereabouts and use of these facilities.
The Red Cross is usually an effective agent in checking the facts of a
home situation and returning the data. But at the end of the line
where officer and man sit together, its resources for helping the
individual (when what is needed mainly is advice on a human equation)
are not likely to be any better than what his military superiors can
do for him. In any time of crisis, the normal human being can draw
strength and composure far more surely from a person he well knows
than from a stranger.
There is this illustration. During World War II, many a man overseas
got word that his home had been broken up. The counselor could talk
the thing out with him, learn whether a reconciliation was the one
most important thing, or whether the man was groping his way, looking
for a friend who could help him see the matter in proportion, and
weigh, among other things, his duty to himself. The Red Cross could
check the facts of the home situation. But the man's readjustment
depended in the main on what was done by those who were closest to
him.
Sooner or later every commander has to deal with some refraction of
this kind of problem. When it comes, moralizing and generalizing about
the weakness of human nature does no good whatever. To call the man a
fool is as invidious as to waste indignation upon the cause of his
misfortune. Likewise, any frontal approach to the problem, such as
telling the man, "Here's what you should do," should be shunned, or
used most sparingly. The more effective attitude can be expressed in
these words: "If it had happened to me instead of to you, and I were
in your same situation, here are the things I would consider, and here
are the points to which I would give greatest weight." To tell any
subject to brace up and be a man is a plain inference that he is not
one. To reflect with him on the things which manhood requires is the
gentle way toward stirring his self-respect. So doing, a counselor
renews his own character. _Also worth remembering is that in any man's
dark hour, a pat on the back and an earnest handclasp may work a small
miracle._
There is much counseling over the subject of transfer. Herein lies an
exception to a general rule, for in this case the good of the man
takes precedence over the good of organization. No conscientious
officer likes to see a good man depart from his organization.
Nevertheless, the service is not in competition with itself, and it
advances as a whole in the measure that all men find the niche where
they can serve most efficiently, and with the greatest satisfaction.
There are officers who hold to every able subordinate like grim death,
seeing no better way to advance their personal fortunes. This is a
sign of moral weakness, not of strength, and its inevitable fruit is
discontent within the organization. _The sign of superiority in any
officer, at whatever level, is his confidence that he can make another
good man to fill any vacancy._ When it is self-evident that a man can
better himself and profit the service through transfer, it is contrary
to all principle to deny him that right. This does not mean that the
unit's exit door should be kept open, but only that it should be ready
to yield upon a showing of competent proof. It is not unusual that
when the pressure mounts and war danger rises, many a man develops a
sudden conviction that he would be more useful in a noncombat arm. The
officer body itself is not unsusceptible to the same temptation.
Unless the great majority are held to that line of duty which they had
accepted in less dangerous circumstance, the service would soon cease
to have fighting integrity. But it makes no point to keep men in a
combat arm or service who are quite obviously morally and physically
unequipped for its rigor, and it is equally wasteful to deny some
other arm or service the use of a specialist whose skills fill it
particularly. Some of the ablest commanders in our service have abided
by this rule: They never denied the man who had a legitimate reason
for transfer, and they never shuffled off their lemons and goldbricks
under a false label. Though seemingly idealistic, the rule is also
practical. The time wasted in excessive worry over a discard is
sometimes better spent by concentrating on the value of trumps.
Men tend to seek officer counsel when they feel discriminated against
by lesser authority. When that happens, it is the duty of the officer
to get at the facts, and act according to them. Complaints against any
junior are always unpleasant to hear because of their air of intrigue.
Tactlessly handled, without due weighing of the case from both sides,
they turn one blunder into two. But no officer is well-advised if he
believes that his duty automatically is to uphold the arm of a
subordinate when the facts say that the latter is dead wrong. His duty
is to reduce friction wherever it is caused by a misuse of power. This
implies dealing discreetly with the offender instead of directly
discountenancing him.
There are a few broad, common-sense rules which, when followed, will
enable any officer to play his part more effectively in the counseling
of men.
Privacy is requisite and the interview should not be held at an
hour when interruptions are likely.
A listless manner spoils everything, diminishes the force of
reason and discourages confidence.
To put the man at ease immediately by some personal gesture is
more important than observing forms.
Thereafter the situation is best served by relaxation of bearing
rather than by tension.
All excess of expression is a failing, but above all in the man to
whom another looks for guidance.
To listen well is the prelude toward pondering carefully and
speaking wisely.
No counsel is worthy that has any lower aim than one's own ideals
of self-respect.
Early enough is well; quickly done can be quickly undone.
To refuse with kindness is more winning than to acquiesce
ungraciously.
To note another man's mood, and to become congenial to it, is the
surest way to engage his confidence.
Decisions which are wholly of the heart and not of the mind will
ultimately do hurt to both places.
No man will talk freely if met by silence, but an intelligent
question encourages frankness above all else.
When one man loses possession of himself it is the more reason
that the other should tighten his reserve.
Affectation in one's own manner gives the lie to one's own credit
and destroys it with others.
To express pity for a man does not serve to restore him and put
him above pity.
When a man is so burdened by a personal problem that it shuts out
all else, he must be led to something else.
Imprudent tactics can undo the wisest strategy.
While these dispositions have particular value in relation to the
counseling of one's subordinates, they also have some application to
any situation in which men work and commune together. Men at any level
do not mistake the touch of sincerity, nor fail to mark as unworthy of
trust the man who pays only a superficial regard to a matter which
they deem important.
For the officer already burdened with other duties, counseling may
seem like a waste of time, and an activity that more properly belongs
to the chaplain. The wise and understanding "padre" may sometimes
counsel men on their material problems and thereby assist the officer
who is over troops. But so doing, he is committing a trespass unless
he acts with the commander's knowledge and consent. The commander is
the foster father of the men in his organization. When he renounces
this role, he neglects a trust.
That neglect cuts the fighting efficiency of the unit at its root.
Finally, counseling, like all else in military life, has a combat
purpose. Other things being equal, the tactical unity of men working
together in combat will be in ratio to their knowledge and sympathetic
understanding of each other. Whatever the cause, aloofness on the part
of the officer can only produce a further withdrawal on the part of
the man. Finally, the cost comes high. In battle, and out of it, the
failure to act and to communicate is more often due to timidity in the
individual than to fear of physical danger.
Described in cold type, the counseling process probably appears a
little sticky. Actually, it is nothing of the sort. For it has been
going on ever since man became civilized. It is a force in all
organized human relationships, beginning in infanthood and lasting
through old age. Because of the nature of a military group, and
particularly because of the deriving of united strength from
well-being in each of the component parts, there is much more need to
regularize it and to qualify all men in a knowledge of those things
which will enable them to assist a fellow in need of help. But in the
military society, far more than in civil life, confidence is a two-way
street. It would be almost impossible to express the collective
gratitude of tens of thousands of lieutenants and ensigns who in times
past have learned to rely on the friendly counsel of a veteran
sergeant or petty officer, and have usually gotten it straight from
the shoulder, _but with respect_. The breaking-in of most young
officers, and the acclimating of them to their role in a command
system, is due, in large measure, to support from this source. Nor are
senior commanders reluctant to receive moral comfort of this same kind
in periods of crisis.