By most accounts, the recent airing of the PBS documentary Carrier has been well-received. In the genre of reality shows, it is certainly a welcome alternative to such programs as Bridezilla, and it successfully captures poignant pieces of human drama in a spectacular, awe-inspiring setting.
This is not your father's documentary with scenes of jet aircraft firing off of catapults while a sonorous voice says, "80,000 tons of American sovereign soil with the power to preserve freedom." Make no mistake, I love images like that and would probably join up again if they would have me. But there is something very different about this PBS offering. The cat shots and slamming recoveries are all there (stunningly photographed) but there is much more. It is a "warts and dimples" look at the Navy that has a genuineness not obtainable through pure marketing. Perhaps I am biased but I believe that the dimples outweigh the warts, that one cannot look into those young faces and listen to their stories—then witness what they do—without feeling a rush of pride for our Navy and a feeling of hope for this great nation.
But there is something else going on here. By showing what life can really be like in the Navy, there is a built-in sorting process that will forewarn those not suited for the demands of such a life while at the same time inspire those who are up to the challenges. This film may cause the Navy to suffer in terms of the number of future enlistments, but we will gain in the quality of those who do come, open-eyed and carrying a gauntlet in their hand. We may well have need of far fewer captain's masts and administrative discharge boards. We might even see retention figures improve.
This is so incredibly refreshing that I can barely contain my enthusiasm. I grew up in the 1970s Navy when recruiting ads beckoned with pictures of Sailors walking with pretty girls on the sands of Waikiki, or with photos of actors in officer uniforms (needing haircuts) sitting in a wood-paneled room and a caption that said "Be a member of the board." Little wonder that some of those who responded were just a tad disappointed when they found themselves turning valves in a torrid boiler room or directing an underway replenishment station in the freezing rain at zero-dark-thirty! While the Navy was cajoling with beach strolling and board rooms, the Marine Corps was warning that they would only take a "few good men." Even in those dark days of Vietnam, the Marines remained true to themselves and to those who took up the challenge.
The Navy is doing much better with its message today, but Carrier serves as a call for even more honesty in what we are offering. The sands of Waikiki are there for some (and maybe even the pretty girl), and those images of sunlight dancing off a seemingly limitless ocean are a routine sight for those who go down to the sea in ships. But the Navy is also a tough way of life. It is chockablock with challenges and deprivations, and it takes motivated individuals to survive and thrive in such an environment. Whether that motivation comes from wanting to serve, to escape something, to see the world, or to pay for school does not matter. They will come. But we owe it to them (and to our own pride) to tell it like it is, to throw down the gauntlet and ask "are you good enough?" Challenges pay dividends in pride and maturity when they are met.
I commend the Navy for its willingness to support this unusual series. I only hope that this is not an aberration but is instead a sea change in the way we do business. I hope we will continue to challenge rather than pander, that we will unabashedly declare who and what we are, so that those with the requisite resolve to succeed in a demanding but rewarding environment will come. And serve well. And perhaps stay for a very long time.