Considerable effort is now being exerted to revive a waning service morale and to halt a corresponding decline in reenlistments. The variety and volume of material that has appeared in commercial and professional publications testifies to our almost fevered concern. If this mass of literary effort is symptomatic of the problem, then surely the Fleet’s operational readiness lies in the balance. For the triple pillars on which operational readiness rests are morale, training, and material maintenance—morale being indisputably the transcendent element. Yet the Navy in its preoccupation with the financial, the material aspects of morale—aspects over which it has no ultimate control—has inadvertently, but tragically, let slip one precious weapon, peculiarly its own. Its use involves no expense to the government and happily requires no special committee reports. The weapon is at hand. We need only try it.
For what has sparked our Navy’s efforts since her earliest beginnings? What has sustained her through the lean years? What but the hot coals of our naval traditions—traditions now smothered by indifference, forgetfulness, and near disdain. Yet in those embers lie countless appeals which could warm, if you will, a chilled morale.
The effects of a vital tradition on morale are many and were recognized by military men long before Alexander swept out of Macedon. Most recently Admiral Carney reaffirmed that “few things provide greater inspiration than noble traditions.” This inspiration can be counted as the first effect of tradition. It invokes the efforts of men to equal the deeds of those who have gone before and so brings results previously thought unattainable. A recent issue of Armed Forces Talk put it this way, “By their example such men [of valor] inspire others until the whole outfit takes on something of their character. And in such an outfit, even a very ordinary man is sometimes inspired to deeds of heroism.” All of us can “play over our heads,” if given the correct and continuing impetus.
Additionally, tradition also sounds a challenge for it reflects the achievements of our predecessors. We are compelled to ask ourselves, can we do as well? Can we meet those standards? Paradoxically, challenge finds its own answer in tradition, for encouragement lies in the sure knowledge that what has been done before can and will be done again. In this fashion, tradition provides realistic and desirable standards—realistic, in that they have been achieved before; desirable, in that they are the handiwork of heroes and ordinary men alike.
Upon reflection, then, it becomes apparent that tradition tends to establish a proper sense of values. For if our traditions, reflecting the virtues of service, duty, honor, and heroic effort, are much discussed and admired, it is reasonable to assume that they will in some increased measure be emulated. Importantly, tradition tends to develop those virtues most called for by our times—the sense of duty and the acceptance of responsibility. As Admiral Carney has said, “We of the present must regard ourselves not only as custodians of traditions but also as makers of tradition ... we must not be found wanting by those who follow us.” Are we not like the servants in the Gospel who were given some talents by their master? We have been bequeathed a precious heritage. To add to it is our constant responsibility.
The march of history will require that this responsibility be accepted by the present and future sons of the nation. The organization whose traditions are rich and alive will experience less difficulty in conditioning these men to the fulfillment of their duties. Its colorful history and vivid tradition absorb the individual and his loyalties, dominating him with the inclusiveness of its mores and binding him more closely to its standard by the vigor of its personality. Henceforth, he is proud to announce himself Private Jones, Rainbow Division, or Seaman Smith, Saratoga, instead of Jones from Hoboken or Smith from Kalamazoo, who is, incidentally, in the Army, or Navy, or Air Force.
These, then, are a few effects of tradition on morale. Inspiration, encouragement, challenge, a developed sense of responsibility and values, and a greater pride in our outfit—each a strong impetus in the proper direction. Now the questions shift to a new point. Has anything been done to implement this weapon? How effective have our efforts been? And what can we do in the future to use this weapon to its full advantage?
At the outset, how well has our tradition been used? When one considers the enormous store from which we have to draw as compared to the awareness that now exists, the answer is obvious—not too well. Our Navy’s well-founded concern for tradition has led it to name some men-of-war after heroes and others after naval victories. As reflection of an increased awareness of tradition’s impact, swords and medals have recently reappeared. Creditable efforts at indoctrination are being made at boot camp and are continued by All Hands and certain commercial journals. Nonetheless, our average Bluejacket remains pathetically ignorant of and unimpressed with his heritage—as a Navyman! Indeed an informal survey recently conducted on four destroyers disclosed that more than half of the personnel questioned did not know what their patron had done to deserve the monumental honor of a ship bearing his name.
This is not to say that ships are devoid of the physical reminders of their heritage. However, the erection of a plaque bearing relevant data of a ship’s history, the posting of a hero’s picture in the wardroom, the design of a ship’s emblem, the affixing of campaign ribbons to the bridge, while commendable and important setups in the cultivation of a tradition are after all only material objects. They are coldly reminiscent of the statue of General Upon A. Horse in front of the courthouse about whom no one can any longer say where or what it was that eventually turned him into a bronze pigeon roost! If our traditions are to have validity, they must have the warmth, the breath of life!
The question logically looms, why then have our current efforts not been more effective? At least three major problems have impeded the continuing flow of tradition. At the outset, the Navy has the considerable problem of integrating, mentally conditioning, if you will, a considerably greater number of men than in those years prior to the last war. This great body of men serves in hundreds of ships and stations and in various complex specialties. The sailor in DesLant feels little affinity for his brother in DesPac, nor does either of these men feel much kinship for the man in the Amphibious Force, the Air Force, or the Submarine Force. In addition, the uniting drive of a common enemy has been removed. The cold war with its diplomatic subterfuges and complexities is unlikely to raise the Bluejacket’s blood pressure one iota or bind him in camaraderie more closely to his shipmates.
What then can we do? Our past undertakings have been sound, but they have not gone far enough in scope or intensity. Not far enough in scope because vast areas of our tradition are still unknown to our Bluejackets. Not far enough in intensity because we have largely neglected that aspect of man’s nature susceptible to intense suasion—his emotions.
Ceremony is one area of tradition particularly suited to an exploitation of emotional appeal. Before proceeding to an elaboration of this theme, it is important to dispel the widely held myth behind which is masked the genuine feelings of the American male. This myth envisions him a reserved, unpretentious republican, embarrassed by ceremony and its trappings. The sociological fact is to the contrary, for we are a nation of what has been termed “joiners.” Our wholehearted participation in thousands of clubs, lodges, orders, and fraternities is intense, spontaneous, and likely to begin with Cub Scouts and end with the Masons, Knights of Columbus, Elks, Moose, or what have you. Many of these worthy organizations can be distinguished only by their names, the titles of their officialdom, and their different ceremonies. And so, plumed hat askew, beribboned and bedecked, sword in hand, password in mind, and glorious title clasped tightly to his bosom, Brother W. 'I'. Door, “Joiner,” remains an integral part of the American scene. '
Most importantly, ceremony has the effect of uniting a group, of coalescing those that use it. Thus, the fraternity hand-shake unites each member to his brother by providing a common external sign. Whatever they may be, these unique ceremonies are the visible reminder that they share a continuing bond and are the particular element by which they recognize each other as fellow members.
Now, at this time, our principal morale and reenlistment problem centers upon the greatest “joiner” of them all. For with his driving desire to “belong,” the average man of high school and college age offers his devotion and allegiance to countless ceremony- centered fraternities and clubs—with room to spare for “that old gang of mine.” He selflessly breaks his leg for old South High or lustily cheers himself hoarse from the stands. In brief, the emotional desire to give, to be a part of it all, is the key to the unleashing of the young recruit’s near-volcanic potential.
Yet in the face of all this, what ceremonies does the Navy have that drive home to its men the continuing sense of belonging, of participating in a unique and dedicated way of life? When in the day or week or month does the Bluejacket stand united with those beside him and those who have gone before in moving ceremony? The answer is almost never. Colors have, to some, become no more than an interruption in the day. Personnel inspections are most frequently conducted on a divisional level and, while excellent experience in themselves, hardly have a binding or lasting influence. “All Hands Aft” is infrequently heard and seldom exploited for optimum effect. To fill this gap and to realize the appeals of emotion, we require the literal creation of new ceremonies predicated on our old traditions.
There is a vast store from which to draw. There are, for instance, memorial days for our naval victories and for those heroes for whom our ships are named. There are days of anniversary for ships’ commissionings, of ships’ participations in battle. There are days of promotion and advancement, when our allegiances can and should be rededicated. There are in short, a half dozen occasions each year when we can ceremonially stand beside our own shipmates in a mass and public reaffirmation of our belief in those concepts which have made our Navy great! For to quote a recent Destroyer Atlantic directive, “Proper, dignified ceremony is frequently much more in keeping with good custom than the lack of it. Every opportunity should be used to develop pride ... by the example of ceremony.”
Ceremony, however, employed by fits and starts is not enough. A Navy-wide, painstaking and continuous indoctrination in tradition must be vigorously pursued. Programs must be positive in their approach and flexible enough to meet the individual requirements of each ship and station. For example, on reporting aboard ship men should be instructed in the particular history of their vessel. For the destroyer man, the life of the ship’s patron or his heroic behavior might be elaborated on. Continuing the process, other incidents should appear in the plan of the day, to be read and discussed at quarters—a liturgy of naval history, recalling and reemphasizing the achievements against which we will be measured. An appropriate field in this program is a fuller explanation of those terms peculiar to sea-faring men-—-terms rooted in our heritage which lend color and uniqueness to our way of life. A similar explanation of our naval courtesies would foster a better understanding of their import by those whose task it is to comply and so perpetuate them.
A logical extension of this process would provide for the inclusion of this tradition- mindedness in our formal shipboard training program and in our administrative check-off lists. To provide impetus and insure continuity of effort, Type Commander supervision would be necessary. Aboard ship or station, the assignment of the collateral duty of “Tradition Indoctrination Officer” could be made to some reasonably senior and strongly motivated officer. The long-suffering Exec or the Operations Officer seem likely choices.
Above all, care must be exercised to insure that ceremonies are kept short and meaningful. Where possible they should be infused with a strong emotional as well as rational tone. Conversely, the purpose of this essay would be undermined if it resulted in a multiplication of those long-winded and meaningless “ceremonies” which now befuddle the Bluejacket’s mind and flatten his feet.
In summation then, morale and reenlistment—the reflection of morale—are precariously low. Indeed, they jeopardize our Fleet’s operational readiness. A disproportionate effort has been expended on the financial and material elements over which the Navy has no ultimate control, and yet an inexpensive, practical weapon is at hand. This- weapon is tradition. Military authorities have long recognized encouragement, inspiration, challenge, and a developed sense of responsibility and values as fruits of tradition. Thus far, however, the efforts to bring this weapon to bear have not been sufficient. The problems of a greatly expanded service, the absence of wartime stimulus and the dichotomy between the battle veterans and today’s Bluejacket have impeded the normal flow of tradition. On the other hand, the young recruit with his compulsion to “belong” is particularly susceptible to the appeals of tradition and ceremony. The few practical suggestions we have included in this paper are calculated to take advantage of this susceptibility. With some small additional effort these suggestions can be compounded many times.
In a word, the cost is small. The result can be a revivified naval service with the long-glass of tradition and ceremony sharply focused on the virtues of service, duty, and honor.