“Against All Enemies”
(See R. J. Hanks, pp. 22-29, March; pp. 97-101, June; pp. 89-96, July; and p. 95, August 1970 PROCEEDINGS)
John Kenneth Galbraith, Harvard University—In his prize essay, Captain Hanks deals at some length with my views.
Like most of my generation, I have worked pleasantly in close association with military men on many occasions. To be a critic of this community does not come naturally to me. But I am afraid that Captain Hanks reveals some of the reasons. He attributes criticism of the military first to the Vietnam War by saying:
This Southeast Asian conflict is one of the least understood—and therefore most unpopular—wars in our history, primarily because the attempts of three Administrations have failed to explain to the American people in convincing terms the nature of the war and the stakes involved.
But surely, if three Administrations have failed to explain the war to the American people, it will occur to Captain Hanks, as it will occur to Proceedings readers, that the reason could be that the war cannot be explained. And surely in the United States, it is the public view that ultimately is decisive. In blaming the war on public obtuseness, the Services are surely asking for the kind of criticism that Captain Hanks so rightly regrets.
A wiser calculation of the American interests by the Services, one that recognizes our negligible stake in these jungles, would surely serve better the interests of the American people and therewith of the military establishment. Military historians will be critical of those military men who did not take a more rounded view of the American civilian and military interest.
Captain Hanks attributes the remainder of the criticism to “. . . an explosive drive by minority groups—ethnic and economic—for instant political power, social equality, and financial affluence.” He goes on to say that this has created an intense competition for . . . that portion of the American budget presently devoted to defense.” Again, I think, Captain Hanks’s instinct leads him to the right cause. And later in his essay, he regrets “bloated military budgets” and argues the need for economy in military budget-making. But the reference to “instant political power, social equality, and financial affluence” suggests that those involved are somehow pursuing improper goals. But surely, political equality, social equality, and, if not affluence, then access to a decent standard of living are what the American system is about. If neglect of these goals leads to . . . disrespect for constituted authority, urban riots, academic chaos, moral decline, predominance of personal aspirations over national well-being . . . ,” then the case for higher spending is especially strong. Spending here also serves the common defense.
There are other matters on which I trust some readers will withhold approval. In the absence of proof, surely General David M. Shoup’s opposition to the Vietnam war should not be attributed to some disappointment in his military career in the Kennedy period. I doubt that there was such disappointment. I do know that President Kennedy used to say of Dave Shoup that he was his best general. In any case, cannot we grant a man his convictions?
Some Americans do attribute to the military a “. . . narrow-minded and potentially disastrous willingness to destroy all life on earth if Communism . . . seems to be a serious threat.” This is too bad, but is it to be attributed entirely to the perverseness of the critics? Does not some blame attach to past bellicosity (now fortunately muted) of generals—notably of the Air Force? One recalls the adverse effect on Governor George Wallace’s fortunes two years ago when General Curtis LeMay joined him on the public scene and made some casual comments about nuclear weapons. This suggests one source of these fears.
Captain Hanks takes exception to my view that the House and Senate Armed Services Committees need to be reformed so that they will be more sharply critical of military budgets. But such review is consistent with democratic process. It is also inconsistent with the democratic process to have men there who, as at present, more or less automatically approve all military requests.
On one matter I do agree with Captain Hanks. Officers are entitled to speak in defense of their Service, on military policy and on the Vietnam War. But I have the feeling, if my own acquaintance in the Services and mail is indicative, that such a policy will produce a great deal more criticism of current military policy, and of our Indochinese preoccupation in particular, than Captain Hanks supposes.
Master Chief Avionics Technician Hugh Brainard, U. S. Naval Reserve-R (TAR)—Captain Hanks cites as a major cause of the “unpopularity” of the Southeast Asian conflict, the failure of three Administrations “. . . to explain to the American people in convincing terms the nature of the war and the stakes involved.” Amen.
The question arises, why have the present and previous Administrations failed in this respect? To fully explain to the people our reason for being in South Vietnam, it would be necessary to educate them vigorously in the theories of Marx, as implemented by Lenin and his “trainload of vermin,” as further codified by Stalin, Tito, and Mao . . . that an orthodox Communist sincerely believes in violent revolution as the only means to achieve world Communism . . . that we are in South Vietnam to stop another “trainload of vermin.”
To carry out such a propaganda effort at home would completely negate any diplomatic efforts towards an entente on arms control with Russia or “peaceful coexistence.”
It is inconceivable that Senators Fulbright, McCarthy, McGovern, Mansfield, and Kennedy are not aware of this diplomacy.
Lieutenant (j.g.) C. B. Weems, U. S. Navy (Retired)—There hardly could have been a more fitting rebuttal to the critics of the military than the prize essay of Captain Hanks. In my time, from before World War I on, I have seen the prestige of the military rise and fall, from the frantic build-up for a conflict, to the victory parade. Later on they were branded again as the rascals who are conniving with the armament makers, the “merchants of death.”
Procurement for the war effort of World War I had many shortcomings, and some could have been averted if we had been better prepared. We had to obtain some equipment from our allies, because there was too little, too late, and it cost too much . . . without an enemy in sight after 1918, and with the procurement scandal still in the public mind, the pacifists had a happy hunting ground.
Today, again, with Vietnam, we have the pacifists, and the Communists agree with them when it pertains to the military of other non-Communist nations. When you combine the ideals of these two temporary allies with the liberals, misfits, and the ivory tower dreamers, it is obvious that the military is confronted with a formidable foe.
No doubt some of those opposed to the war in Vietnam are sincere, and for them I suggest that they read the February 1970 Reader’s Digest article, “From Hanoi With Thanks,” and give this subject some further thought. As the trend to downgrade the military is in full swing, it would almost take another Pearl Harbor to convince its most formidable foe that we are not altogether living in a world of doves.
“Policy and the Political Geographer”
(See P. R. Winters, pp. 57-62, December 1969 PROCEEDINGS)
Lieutenant Eugene P. Sullivan, SC, U. S. Naval Reserve-R—One aspect which deserves greater emphasis is the observation that boundaries are not so much the result of physiographic characteristics as they are the reflection of a feeling on the part of one people of being significantly different from the people of neighboring states. For it is precisely the lack of such a feeling or national “iconography” which is responsible for much of the instability in the underdeveloped portions of the world today.
During the creation of the European colonial empires, boundaries were drawn for a variety of reasons (administrative convenience, international agreement on spheres of influence, limits of military control or exploration, and the like) which had little or nothing to do with the nature of the indigenous populations. Gaining independence in the post-World War II period, these former colonies found their citizenry composed of extremely heterogeneous groups having little in common with one another. This is particularly true of the new African states, where tribalism has resulted in such chaotic situations as the Nigerian civil war.
The leaders of such states, realizing the dangers in such internal diversity, have been strongly tempted to remedy the situation by stimulating a growth of national unity in a hothouse atmosphere of xenophobia. Since the memory of the real and imagined wrongs, inflicted by the former colonial power, is one of the few things the whole population has in common, it has been the West European states and, by inference, their American ally that have been the most frequent targets of this xenophobia. This has presented the Soviet Union and other Communist states with an excellent opportunity to increase their influence by posing as the protectors of the new states against the dangers of “neo-colonialism.”
It may well be that the studies of political geographers will be able to serve a dual role in solving this problem. First, an analysis of the actual relationship between political boundaries and the presence or absence of feelings of national unity in particular states may alert the United States to potential trouble spots. Second, by analyzing the means employed to produce the desired unity they may be able to provide guidelines and recommendations which will enable the newly-independent states to organize themselves with a minimum of internal and international disruption.
Lieutenant Edwin C. Oyer, U. S. Navy—The author more or less directs his point to higher level policy makers. I feel the point made is relevant down through all ranks and grades in the Navy of today. Geography in all of its aspects is a challenge to us all—one we should start meeting now.
I wholeheartedly agree that most U. S. citizens and probably most world citizens, have a distorted view of land mass relationships. I have found on more occasions than I care to remember that when the subject of geography in its varied aspects is brought up, the attitude of “that is a grade school subject” prevails. When one studies a globe or other map projections, except Mercator, the distortions are reduced and we can see our world as it really is—a point well made by the author. Closer analyzation of the globe may also reveal why we are a member of NATO, SEATO, and CENTO, and that boundaries, both physical and imaginary, are arbitrary lines that are respected until, as Mr. Winters so aptly put it, “. . . the relationship becomes very dynamic.”
The author hints at how dependent the United States is on other nations to provide the raw materials. We are buying some from the U.S.S.R., and these sources of minerals have political and cultural implications in these same countries. Often we see a placid nomadic life transformed into a bustling community solely because minerals were discovered and exploited. Perhaps the discovery of oil in Libya has made that nation less dependent on Wheelus Air Force Base and that is why we were asked to leave.
Heretofore, the United States may have been the sole customer for minerals, however, with Japan, West Germany, and the U.S.S.R. emerging as industrial empires, our sources are challenged. One of the basic reasons as to why we are in Vietnam may well lie here, as a country may be suspected of being devoid of minerals today and be turned into a rich source tomorrow.
The use of the terms dynamic and kinetic was most perceptive on the author’s part. If we were to review some of the current world problems, we would find kinetic situations that have been transformed into dynamic situations for such reasons as, food supplies, natural resources (including water), better living conditions (climate and area are factors), and access to world markets.
We must be in tune with the geographic aspects of our world as well as being competent mariners. As a basic guide, I should like to suggest a book entitled, Strategic Intelligence and the Shape of Tomorrow (W. M. McGovern, Chicago: Henry Regnery Company).
Unfortunately, a large number of universities and colleges do not offer extension or correspondence courses in the wide field of geography, but some do: e.g., the Universities of Kentucky and Utah.
When the idea is cast aside that the United States is a world unto itself, and a realization is accepted that we are only an island in the world geographical society, we shall begin to know how important and dependent we are on the remainder of the globe and how it influences our daily lives.
Lawrence C. Allin, History Department, University of Maine—The proposition advanced by Mr. Winters that the political geographer has much in the way of insights to offer policy makers appears to be sound. The global perspective with which the political geographer views world problems is essentially a perspective achieved from analysis of the component parts of the total environment of a problem. The political geographer’s value lies in his ability to lay alongside his component analysis the desires of the policy maker and, through synthesis, to reject the improbable and arrive at the most plausible alternatives for action in the given circumstances.
An example from ancient history can illustrate the value of the global view or polar projection of the thinker in political geography versus the jejune view of the Mercator thinker. This example is the analysis and synthesis of the factors of political geography as applied to specific ends by Demosthenes, the Athenian, at Pylos in 425 B.C.
That late spring, Demosthenes found himself in an Athenian fleet that was sailing away from Attica, which was being invaded by a Spartan-led Peloponnesian army. The fleet was on a course that would divide it and send components to Corcyra and Sicily to engage in campaigns that appeared to have only secondary strategic importance. He apparently held such a disposition of force as awkward and ill-advised as the command structure that made him one of a number of generals in the fleet.
Demosthenes, like some political geographers, was confronted first with the necessity of convincing his equals in power, Sophocles and Eurymedon, of the value of applying his principles to the then current situation by a landing at deserted and desolate Pylos. Possibly only an “Athenian wind” that forced the fleet to seek shelter under Sphacteria Island in Pylos Harbor permitted Demosthenes to gain the time needed to mature his thinking.
Pylos’ location, on the southeast shore of the Peloponnesian Peninsula, was the pivot upon which his plan turned. Located close to the grain and trade routes from Egypt and Crete to the Peloponnesus, Athenian ships could interfere with this source of Spartan food and wealth. Pylos could also serve as a base from which the Athenians could support the government of Corcyra. From Pylos, the 60 Peloponnesian ships that were supporting Corcyran rebels could be isolated from their home shore and the flank of the Athenian Empire secured. Then, too, Pylos could serve as a base from which to interfere with the Sicilian grain trade to the Spartans. Finally, Pylos was a part of the ancestral territory of the Messenians of Sicily who could be reinstated as a hostile force on the Spartan flank.
To achieve his end of political and military mastery of Sparta, Demosthenes had to begin his campaign and the fortification of Pylos by the direct example, for soldiers and generals alike, of silently laying the first stones by his own hands. By the time the wind blew fair for Sophocles and Eurymedon to continue to Sicily and Corcyra, the example-built fortifications and Demosthenes’ arguments compelled them to leave five ships and their fighting men with him.
The Spartans were acutely aware of the danger presented by this small force. The Peloponnesian ships were recalled from Corcyra and their army from the invasion of Attica. As the Spartan fleet and army descended on Demosthenes, he managed to put two of his ships to sea to recall the forces necessary to fulfill his conceptions.
The Spartans put ashore on the mainland against Pylos and on Sphacteria and filled the harbor between with ships, tightly blockading the Athenians. Fifty Athenian ships arrived under Eurymedon after a sharp action on the narrow beach at Pylos between Demosthenes and the Spartans, who had failed to close the narrow harbor mouths. The next morning, after failing to entice the Spartans to sea, the Athenians sailed through both harbor entrances and drove the Peloponnesians ashore. Demosthenes now had a counter-blockade on both the mainland and Sphacteria. Finding their fleet useless and a large portion of their best troops confined on the island, the Spartans sought a truce to negotiate for the release of their hoplites and an end to the war. The Athenians insisted on surrender of the Peloponnesian fleet, to be returned at the end of the armistice, as a condition of negotiations.
When the Spartan ambassadors arrived in Athens, Cleon agitated against an end of the war and for using the situation to further damage Spartan power. He declaimed that a good general would resolve the matter within 20 days. The Athenian Assembly accepted his somewhat intemperate offer and invested the command at Pylos in Cleon. Before leaving Athens he appointed Demosthenes his colleague in command.
On his arrival at the scene of action, he found Demosthenes unwilling to relinquish command of the sea. Demosthenes had retained the Spartan fleet, alleging a violation of the truce, and was in a strong position. Cleon and Demosthenes called upon the Spartans to surrender the force on Sphacteria. This was refused and Demosthenes’ previously planned attack was launched under the cover of pre-dawn darkness and with tactical brilliance. Then 292 Peloponnesian hoplites surrendered; among them the first 120 Spartans ever to lay down their arms.
By the end of Cleon’s 20 days, both armies were ready to withdraw from Pylos. The Athenians left a small garrison to hold the position until the Messenians could send a force to relieve them and commence a series of raids on the Peloponnesus.
The utility of the concepts of political geography, advocated by Mr. Winter and demonstrated by Demosthenes, is manifoldly important. Demosthenes did not secure a military victory but rather a far-reaching victory embodying the principles of political geography. The same centrifugal and centripetal forces were operative at Pylos and Sphacteria as are to be found in the author’s examples of the framework of political geography.
The political, historical, and military elements studied by the political geographer all combined in the surrender on Sphacteria. Militarily, Demosthenes broke the invincibility of the phalanx with his lightly armed troops and gave impetus to new tactical thought. Historically, Sphacteria was probably the worst defeat administered to Spartan arms to that date. It was the first surrender of Spartan troops and irreparably damaged the Spartan fighting tradition which had its high point in the death of Leonidas and his 300 men at Thermopylae. Politically, Athens’ possession of Pylos and the 120 Spartan prisoners was to be a material factor in the peace of Nicias of 421 B.C.
Demosthenes acted at Pylos upon principles that could be profitably studied by those who would advise, and by those who would formulate in matters of policy. Demosthenes would probably agree with Mr. Winters when he states “Political motives and distributions are critically affected by unforeseen technological and environmental changes brought about by man or nature.”
“The Feasibility of the Franklin Piloting Technique”
(See E. B. Brown, pp. 144-148, October 1969; p. 92, February; and pp. 99-100, March 1970 PROCEEDINGS)
Lieutenant Commander James G. Heydenreich, U. S. Coast Guard, Navigation Section, U. S. Coast Guard Academy—Mr. Brown seems to disregard the availability of ranges, other than harbor ranges, which are used as “center-lines” for channels in restricted waters. The easiest method for checking compass error for a gyro or magnetic compass is by shooting any range as the ship progresses along her track. Such diverse objects as flagpoles, church steeples, water tanks, even gas station signs can and should be used. The only requirement for a range is that there must be two plotted objects which are visible when they are in line.
In a peacetime piloting situation, the captain and the navigator are charged primarily with the safe navigation of the ship. Basically, this means that there must always be water beneath the keel. Any successful method of safe navigation is a feasible one. The navigating officer has at his disposal, many tools, tricks, shortcuts, and hopefully, the always necessary, finely-tuned “seaman’s eye.” He should have readily available to him, all equipment, publications, and personnel necessary to navigate. If he chooses not to use any of these aids, that is his decision. If he fails to use some thing or some technique that might have prevented a grounding, he is guilty of professional negligence.
Our technological society seems to require a gimmick for everything. The Franklin Piloting Technique is a new gimmick for navigation. It is one more method the navigator can use. Simplicity of operation should always be the guide in navigation. There are other, better means of determining compass error.
The gyro compass is usually lit off four to 12 hours before getting underway. Gyro error should always be checked and verified long before mooring stations are manned. Taking an azimuth of the sun is a simple operation involving a minimum of tabular interpolation. The ship’s position at her pier or anchorage should also be checked with a round of visual gyro bearings If the resultant fix plots as a triangle, gyro error exists and can be readily determined in direction and amount by trial and error. (See Figure 1.) If it is foggy in the harbor, gyro error can stiff be reasonably accurately estimated if your ship is moored to a pier. Reference to the harbor chart will allow you to measure the true direction of the pier. It is a simple matter to look fore and aft from the bridge to see how closely your ship parallels the pier and estimate gyro error.
Once underway, gyro error should be verified at every opportunity. This is where any plotted visual range provides the quickest results. Fixes should be plotted frequently, using any means available. All during the piloting operation, the navigator should be planning ahead. He must know where the danger lies and he must take prompt action to avoid it. If he gets tangled up worrying only about compass error, he may wind up on some rock pinnacle he forgot about. A competent navigator should be able to navigate without a compass if he uses a prudent speed and has clear visibility. If he finds that his compass has a variable error, he should disregard it completely and use other means to find his heading. Or he could stop the ship.
Not knowing compass error may mean that you are lost. But there are worse things in a sailor’s life than being lost. Being aground happens to be one of them. Perhaps too many conning officers rely on the old adage: “When in danger, when in doubt, run in circles, scream and shout.” One of the best “aids to navigation” is a cool mind. It is hard to run aground when you are dead in the water. If in doubt about the ship’s position, a safe action would be to back down until stopped and then re-evaluate your situation.
Avoidance of danger is the critical point to remember when piloting in close waters. A fix, however, is not always required. The use of danger bearings with a known compass error is extremely handy. Minimum or maximum horizontal sextant angles between two plotted objects can be used without a knowledge of compass error. Vertical danger angles on a single object are very simple to determine and use. If the navigator is not sure of his position, he cannot go wrong by assuming that his ship is in the worst of all the probable Positions and taking action based on that assumption.
Mr. Brown states that the conditions where horizontal sextant angles and a three-arm protractor may be used are restricted because it would involve disrupting the piloting team, while breaking out sextants and redirecting the tasks of the team. The three-arm protractor is one of the handiest and simplest gadgets ever devised to fix the position of the ship. It can be used with true or relative bearings, magnetic bearings, or even gyro bearings with an unknown gyro error. It can also be used with horizontal sextant angles, but is awkward for an untrained seaman.
When using true or relative bearings, it is an easy matter to quickly determine the angular difference between the bearings, set them on the right and left arms of the protractor and locate the ship’s position. It takes less time to do this than it would take to plot the three bearings. (See Figure 2.) This method is also valid for bearings taken with an unknown compass error, although it would not assist in finding the amount or direction of the compass error.
A simple modification to the three-arm protractor will enable the navigator to plot the location of a three-line fix without plotting any of the line of position (LOP), and it will also provide him with an accurate determination of compass error. All this can be done in less time than the Franklin technique, which plots four LOPs before the compass error can be estimated. The approximate position of the ship cannot be determined, using the Franklin method, until after the compass error is estimated.
The modification calls for the addition of another movable arm. (See Figure 3.) With three movable arms, each one can be set to the true or gyro bearing of the three plotted objects. Once the three bearings are set up, the fix is easily located. Without moving the three-arm protractor, (now a four-arm protractor), gyro error can also be accurately measured off the protractor. With a zero error, the fixed-arm of the protractor and the 000- and 180-degree markings will always point in a north-south direction or parallel to any meridian on the chart. If a gyro error exists, its direction and amount can easily be seen. For example, if a 5-degree east error exists, the 000 indicator and the fixed arm of the protractor will point at a 5-degree angle to the right of a north-south line. The compass will read 355 instead of 000, so the error is east. (See Figure 4.)
In Defense of the NROTC
Lieutenant Clyde V. Christensen, U. S. Navy, NROTC Department, University of Nebraska—The people who attack the NROTC do so mainly by using the two arguments stated by the Columbia University Council. First, they advocate that academic credit should be removed from all of the ROTC courses, as these courses are not academic in that course materials presented do not inspire critical thinking. Furthermore, the ROTC tends to emphasize rote learning and a deference to authority. Their second argument is that military instructors should be stripped of all academic rank.
In response to the opponents’ first premise concerning courses of instruction which stifle critical thinking, let it be noted that the military bases its officer training programs on the bedrock fundamentals of leadership development. Inherent in leadership development is critical thinking, and if the trainee cannot think and evaluate critically, he will not become a successful leader. Military history has proven that conditioned reflex is important, but it is also very limiting. The ability to function in new and different environments, at a moment’s notice, requires critical thought processes, not robot-like reactions to a stereotyped situation.
The ROTC instruction attempts to develop young men into mature individuals who are fully cognizant that unthinking, irresponsible actions could easily cause injury or death to some or all of their men. Put in this frame of reference, the ROTC training programs simply cannot afford to graduate a product limited in ability to think clearly and critically.
As for rote learning, there appears to be a definite necessity for this type of learning in courses which are mechanical in nature. Navigation requires a certain amount of rote learning, as do physics, chemistry, mathematics, and foreign languages. Rare is the course of study which does not use a certain amount of this learning methodology.
The second argument used in the attack on the ROTC is that the instructors should not be given faculty rank. If one is to look for any substance in the opponent’s point of view, he would probably find more validity in this argument than any other.
It is this writer’s conviction that the majority of the ROTC instructors feel uncomfortable wearing academic rank. Most of them have attained only an undergraduate degree, while their civilian counterparts have or are working on a doctorate degree. The Navy is attempting to place more people with postgraduate education into ROTC positions, but presently there is a dearth of qualified people in this area. Officers with masters’ degrees are becoming more plentiful, but beyond that level there is a definite scarcity. This is not the fault of the individuals involved, but is more attributable to an occupation which generally allows little time for formal educational pursuits.
Numerous discussions between this writer and other ROTC instructors indicate that although they may feel uncomfortable with academic rank, they do not feel uncomfortable in the classroom. The majority of them appear to feel just as competent as most of their civilian contemporaries, given an equal experience level. Perhaps the criticism that the ROTC has received in the past few years has tended to cause the ROTC instructor to work even harder at his profession than he might have in a more favorable climate. However, it appears that the ROTC instructor worries less about his academic rank than he does about how his wearing of it is perceived by his civilian colleague.
“The Naval Medical Officer: The Worst of Both Worlds”
(See F. E. Dully, Jr., pp. 60-66, January; pp. 101-104, June; and pp. 97-99, July 1970 PROCEEDINGS)
Rear Admiral C. O. Triebel, U. S. Navy (Retired)—For untold years, it was the unwritten law that, “The Navy takes care of its own.” If we are so big, so diverse, and so complicated today that the old unity is impossible to achieve, we should not only admit it, but also make sure that our young officers and enlisted men are not misled.
I feel strongly that I have had a valuable right stolen from me in that I am no longer assured care in a naval hospital. “But you never were,” is the lawyer’s comment. I can only grump, “You never knew the old Navy.” It has been at least 20 years since the first legal determinations were made that dependents and retired personnel do not have rights at Navy medical facilities. Dr. Dully states, “Dependent care is rendered as a favor, not the fulfillment of a legal contractual obligation.” A favor by whom—the individual doctor or the Secretary of the Navy directing certain dependent care within his statutory authority? It should be made clear to all hands that the individual doctor is doing no favor when he performs an assigned duty. The doctor-patient relationship being the very personal thing it is, quite often doctors go well beyond the call of official duty, and for this we are all grateful.
The matter of dependent and retired care has been a running sore for at least 20 years. Some thoughtful and concerned people believe that if the issue were to be thoroughly aired, there would be great danger that dependents and retired people might irrevocably lose the tenuous privileges they now enjoy. Maybe so, but it is an unhealthy situation when our young men may be led to believe one thing when something quite different is the fact. It is the duty of the line officers, not the medical officers, to straighten things out. An ugly scar might remain, but the continuing infection would be stopped.
Recently, at a naval air station, certain prescription medicine for dependents was said to be not available because of budgetary limitations. This was at a time and place when numerous young aviators were in the process of deciding whether to stay in or get out of the Navy. Here were men with millions of dollars invested in their training, flying multi-million-dollar planes, who may have decided to leave the Navy for want of a $2.00 bottle of pills. These young men are not unreasonable. Deployed thousands of miles away in the Western Pacific, their return uncertain, they want assurance that care and medicine vital to their loved ones is available. A wise cost effectiveness analyst would ground a plane and stock the pills.
There is no known cure for individuals who go to the doctor when they should not. I think they just like the hospital smell. A $2.00 fee might catch a few, but would really hurt those who need their money most, the family with sickness. Navy doctors might get a negative satisfaction from the fact that with greatly expanded health insurance plans, civilian doctors in the future will have to treat their fair share of these medical visitors.
Above all, the curse which afflicts us is bigness. However, we should be getting over our growing pains, and be prepared to face the issues squarely. We must make wise decisions, which will enable us to operate a closely knit naval service in which all constituents live up to the best of our old Navy traditions.
“The Art, Science, and Innocence Involved In Becoming Chief of Naval Operations”
(See J. N. Horrocks, Jr., pp. 18-33, January; and pp. 104-105, June 1970 PROCEEDINGS)
Lieutenant Commander Peter D. Smith, U. S. Navy—Captain Horrocks’ article was obviously well-researched, and should provide future writers in the field with valuable insights regarding the selection of the uniformed Navy’s top man. It also raises several points which are important to all career officers, whatever the level of individual rank or position aspiration, namely the selection process and career management.
Several researchers and writers, considered important in their field, have been involved in redefining the selection process and are seeking newer methods in managerial manpower planning. Bothersome questions persist, however, such as why do high-potential officers at career mid-point and those near retirement end up in dead-end situations? What are the characteristics of “graveyard” jobs? What quantities (other than previous performance) are key factors for success in top billets? Why do seemingly effective officers feel that they do not know the real promotion criteria for next rank? What causes numbers of high capacity performers to leave the service?
One writer, an apparent innovator, feels that with the new scientific personnel tools available to career planners, Questions such as those raised can be solved in a practical sense. The use of comprehensive simulation models of the entire career-growth pattern can be developed; the variables vitally important and influential in officer career progress can be identified and understood; and finally these variables can be used to develop a synthesized, continuous-flow process of officer career development for the benefit of each officer and the Navy. The relatively new scientific events that make this possible are the development of highly effective computer systems, analytical techniques for processing data, and the significantly important progress that behavioral scientists are making in the field of executive development.
We must agree with Captain Horrocks that selection of a CNO involves a myriad of decisions and inputs and that promotion to this position will always be a complex process. However, in light of newer managerial techniques available, reliable predictive patterns of career progress can begin to emerge, which should result in officer planning programs that are practical and profitable and may lend to a method of high office selection quite different from that known today.
“Professionalism and Writing”
(See D. W. Brezina, pp. 108-109, November 1969; and pp. 95-97, April 1970 PROCEEDINGS)
Lieutenant Robert F. Riordan, U. S. Navy—As a graduate of what Lieutenant Brezina would call one of the Renaissance classes, 1964, at the Naval Academy, I found his comment extremely thought-provoking. Nevertheless, just what should be the degree of participation of junior officers in the strategic debate of military roles and missions?
I agree with his conclusion that there is very little participation along these lines. However, I believe this condition to be neither unsettling nor placating, as he implies. Instead, this silence appears to be in the natural order of intellectual development. There is no doubt that the junior officer of today is highly educated, but how much is in the field of military strategy? For almost every junior officer a course in naval seapower, which primarily discusses various battles, is the extent of this training. This is true whether he graduated from the Naval Academy, the NROTC program, or OCS. This, of course, may be offset by taking correspondence courses, private reading, and the like. Since a junior officer is primarily concerned with the mastery of skills required of naval officers, i.e., shiphandling and leadership, very little, if any, time is left to do this.
I would like to discuss the statement that, “The adage, ‘Wait until you get your scrambled eggs before you start to talk about strategy,’ still seems to prevail.” It is not until he has reached that rank that an officer has had the opportunity to attend schools that are specifically designed to teach strategy. Perhaps, even more important, it is not until then that he has had the time to acquire the experience needed to temper his knowledge. For as John Locke wrote, “No man’s knowledge here can go beyond his experience.”
Lastly, Lieutenant Brezina asks “Will a few more junior Mahans please step forward?” A quick look at the famous strategists of the past shows that Mahan, Clausewitz, Jomini, and Von Schlieffen, to name a few, for the most part, did their strategic writing later in their lifetimes—after they had acquired both knowledge and experience. Mahan, for example, did not start his major writing until after he was 40 years old, when he was ordered to the Naval War College.
I also hope more Mahans will step forward, because they are needed. However, before they can speak out, they must study and observe, which takes time. History has proven that they must observe and study to ensure that what they say is truly pertinent and accurate, and not just high-sounding phrases.
“Navy Sailing Programs”
(See R. D. McWethy, pp. 112-113, September 1969; and p. 92, February 1970 PROCEEDINGS)
Lieutenant Commander John B. Bonds, U. S. Navy, Commanding Officer, USS Firm (MSO-444)—As an enthusiastic participant in the Navy sailing programs, I must take exception to Lieutenant (j.g.) Goy’s explanation of why the junior officer and enlisted deck rates are “. . . conspicuous by their small numbers” in these programs. Certainly this group consists of seagoing sailors with too little time in homeport. This fact may explain their absence in key organizational positions, and understandably so. But it fails to account for their apparent disinterest in recreational sailing.
The sailing programs offered by the Navy in practically every Navy port in the world are largely a well-kept secret from the Fleet. The programs are run in each port by local participants and/or special services. Unfortunately, the Navy-wide organization, the Navy Sailing Association (NSA) has not yet provided the measure of continuity and congruence to which it aspires. The result is predictable. There are no common qualifications for use of the boats, although several sailing clubs recognize qualification from other Navy facilities, or from the national club. It is sometimes difficult even for the experienced and well-qualified sailor to “break in” to the local Navy sailing circles.
Of more direct interest here, however, is the apparent failure of many clubs to attempt to expand their base of qualified personnel. In most cases, the aspiring sailor must seek out the facility, which is normally located at some distance from the piers, and must attain qualification at the convenience of the sailing master or the club members responsible. When this is the case, participation is quite low among those of the Fleet, who often have difficulty in making their schedules meet those of the club. It requires a massive and deliberate program to solve this problem, but it can produce results far beyond expectations.
In 1968, the Newport Navy Yacht Club, in its first full season, grew from some 45 members in March to over 1,200 in October, with well over half qualifying as skippers. This was unprecedented there, and resulted from a well-planned and executed training program.
The NSA could be an ideal vehicle for expanding the sport within the Navy, by providing to local clubs organizational and educational material, common testing devices, and suggested approaches to the problems faced by new Navy sailing clubs.
Junior officers and enlisted men, once qualified, will find many hours of recreation available to them at nominal expense (if any) wherever they go. A qualification card from the national organization is a good beginning toward local qualification, with the addition of local rules. This is certainly a worthwhile reward for the few hours spent in gaining qualification, especially for the men in the Fleet.
“The Pecos Died Hard”
(See E. P. Abernethy, pp. 74-83, December 1969 PROCEEDINGS)
Admiral Felix B. Stump, U. S. Navy (Retired)—Admiral Abernethy is mistaken, when he says that, “. . . the Langley proceeded independently for Fremantle, Australia.”
The Langley went directly from Macassar to Soerabaja, where she stayed until after Christmas. Then she went to Darwin, Australia, arriving there before New Year’s. (In Soerabaja, the Langley and the Pecos were not docked in sight of each other.)
The Langley was still in Darwin on 7 January 1942, when I was detached to join Admiral Thomas C. Hart, U. S. Navy, who was Commander in Chief, Asiatic Fleet in Batavia, Java. She left Darwin later, but before the Japanese attack there. This correction may have some historical interest.
Admiral Hart kept his little naval force in positions to strike the enemy whenever it could give more damage than it received. An example of this was his daring and surprisingly successful attack of 24 January on a Japanese convoy off Balikpapan, made by his few available destroyers. They sank four transports, a patrol ship, and damaged others. In the Japanese confusion, the destroyers retired undamaged.
The Langley carried ammunition and torpedoes for combatant ships and aircraft. To have sent her to Fremantle at that time, would have denied availability of these items.
George W. Duffy—Admiral Abernethy states in his third paragraph, “We were in Manila the Sunday morning before Pearl Harbor when the Chief of Naval Operations sent out a message . . . worded approximately as follows: ‘War with Japan is inevitable . . .’” This differs from Rear Admiral Samuel E. Morison’s book, The Rising Sun in the Pacific, in which he says Admiral Stark’s warning message was sent on 27 November.
I assume that Admiral Abernethy meant the second Sunday before Pearl Harbor. The Sunday before Pearl Harbor in Manila was 7 December. The war started on Monday, 8 December 1941 East Longitude Time.
Reconstructing the probabilities, Stark’s message went out on 27 November, did not get to Hart until 28 November (time difference again), and it may well have taken him (Hart) 48 hours to get his “division commanders and above” together. If so, that would have put the meeting that Admiral Abernethy describes as occurring on 30 November, not “the day before Pearl Harbor, 7 December.
He then states that “The Pecos went alongside the mile-long Pier 7 in Manila. . . during the afternoon we watched bombing attacks . . . at Clark Field.” This was Monday, 8 December. I was at Pier 3 that day, as fourth officer on board the freighter SS American Leader. We had arrived in Manila on 4 December. There was no excitement. I took a taxi and went out to a movie. Granted, a few air raid sirens sounded during the day, but aside from the time I spent in the movies, I was around Manila all that day, and I saw no Japanese aircraft. In fact, I witnessed no Japanese aircraft over Manila until 10 December, the third day of the war, when Cavite and the ships in the harbor off the piers were bombed by a large force.
The American Leader escaped from Manila on 11 December, going through the mine fields off Corregidor with the assistance of searchlights flashed onto the buoys. We arrived in Sydney on Christmas Day. Our “escape” was short-lived, however, for, in September 1942, the American Leader was sunk. The survivors were taken prisoner, and in November 1942 came ashore on Java—prisoners of the Japanese after all!
Vice Admiral Jonkheer H. A. van Foreest, Royal Netherland Navy (Retired)—Admiral Abernethy’s story reminded me suddenly of the moment we passed a U. S. Navy oiler at close range, between Balikpapan and Tarakan (I believe) in the autumn of 1940. I was, at that time, in command of the Dutch destroyer flotilla in the East Indies. We watched the ship coming closer, very neat in her fresh paint. All hands were properly dressed and arranged along the railing; those in white uniforms well apart from those in blues. Then we heard the whistles blow and saw them as one man snap to attention. Immediately after the ceremony, my flag captain turned to me and asked: “What do you think of her, sir?”
We were, at that time hardly acquainted with the great U. S. Navy. As a youngster, I had visited several U. S. ships in the East and West Indies, but with more interest in their hospitality than in their looks or efficiency. After the war had started in Europe, we acquired much admiration for the British Royal Navy. Meanwhile America was neutral and very far away.
Now, however, I could answer his question without hesitation: “Look, that ship must belong to a Navy with much pride and discipline, a first class Navy.” A tanker is very seldom a showpiece of the Fleet. Moreover, this one sailed alone, apparently on an independent mission, out of sight of higher authority. When a ship makes such an excellent impression, you may safely draw a conclusion about her captain, his crew, and the whole U. S. Fleet.
Although this is an unimportant incident, may I still express satisfaction that my opinion of the Pecos was so fully justified? The record of her heroic end, of her indomitable skipper and ship’s company, most certainly deserves a place in the books on World War II.
Benny Suggs—An Incentive Program?
Chief Aviation Machinist’s Mate Fred E. Sollie, U. S. Navy (Retired), Naval Air Rework Facility, Pensacola, Florida—The Beneficial Suggestion (Benny Suggs) Program for civilian employees and military personnel, with its objective of increasing production, promoting efficiency, developing new methods, instilling cost consciousness, and saving money, has become one of the nation’s finest and most rewarding ventures. However, its primary goal is to secure the widest participation possible—it is recognized that the greatest potential for improvement and savings lie in the individual’s immediate work area—and, while the program has been very successful, there are certain underlying deficiencies that detract from it.
First, it is suggested that the form provided under the Beneficial Suggestion Program for one to submit his idea or improvement, does not have adequate space in which to state the problem or condition that prompted the suggestion. Doubling the space provided on the form from four lines to eight would eliminate this difficulty.
Personal prejudice and petty jealousy appear sometimes to influence the judgment of persons in evaluating the merit of a suggestion. Too, it seems that a successful record in submitting ideas and suggestions can later become a detriment to the suggester.
Another serious weakness existing in the Benny Suggs program is the attitude taken by some that for one to admit that a suggested solution to a longstanding problem is worthy of adoption, is to admit that he is himself incapable of solving the problem, and therefore, not doing the job he should be doing. Management and production are equally guilty of this defensive reaction. The answer here? A re-educating of the purpose and intent of the suggestion program. Awareness of shoddy or unfair treatment given to suggestions discourages participation in the program.
Many encouraging developments have been injected into the program, notable among which is the practice of allowing members of the Armed Forces to take part equally with their civilian counterparts in the incentive awards program.
Around the turn of the century, the U. S. Patent Office concluded that about everything new that could possibly be invented, had already been invented, and seriously considered terminating its services. History, however, proved otherwise, of course, and the number of new patents processed by the Patent Office from that time has been remarkable. It is no less true, that in the 1970s and 1980s, the U. S. government will benefit in ever-increasing ways from the ideas and suggestions that will mean taxpayers’ dollars saved and man-hours eliminated by newer and faster methods, equipment, and procedures.
The Beneficial Suggestion form, or “Benny Form,” as it has become known in military and Civil Service departments, consists of three basic sections to be completed by the suggester:
Problem: Explaining difficulty or circumstance that prompted the suggestion.
Old Method: Described in detail, specifying shop, office, or other location, and conditions involved.
Suggested Improvement: Description of improvement idea, how it can be used, and stating what the idea will accomplish.
Once the form is properly filled out, the completed suggestions, after being shown to the suggester’s immediate supervisor and discussing it with him, are forwarded to the administrator of the Incentive Awards Program in the Civilian Personnel Department. It will be reviewed there, and then forwarded to the appropriate department, activity, or division for review and comment. The suggestion is then returned, via the chain of command, to the program administrator to again review. Suggestions requiring Board action are then discussed at panel meetings, where members determine whether or not the suggestion will be accepted.
In years past, this procedure was often a long-drawn out affair, ranging sometimes from two months to two years or more. Beginning on 1 July 1969, the following set of standards on awards was established:
The minimum award for an adopted economy suggestion was set at $25.00, based on estimated savings of $250.00. Agencies, however, may, at their option, adopt higher minimums up to $250.00, based on proportionately higher savings. The Navy has set its minimum at $25.00. Previous minimums were $15.00, based on $50.00 to $300.00 savings. Awards will also be paid for comparable intangible savings if the review board feels there is a minimum savings of $250.00.
Agencies are encouraged to restrict suggestion awards to those which, “. . . save manhours, materials, equipment, supplies, or money, and suggestions that significantly benefit the functions or quality of a government service.” Differing also, suggestions on work conditions, employee service or benefits, and the like, no longer qualify for awards. In general, suggestions saving up to $1,000 will be recognized by awards up to 10 per cent. Above $1,000, the old maximum of 5 per cent will be continued. These changes are intended to “. . . eliminate insignificant awards for very minimal benefits . . . speed the processing of suggestion awards . . . and reduce complaints of undeserved awards and favoritism.”
In this way, the investigation of suggestions and awards may ultimately become an even better means of solving long-standing recurring problems.
“Inactivation of the Randolph—'As Gentle a Hardship as Possible . . .’”
(See H. L. Hussmann, pp. 38-48, November 1969; and pp. 94-95, April 1970 PROCEEDINGS)
Lieutenant Commander John A. Henry, Jr., U. S. Navy—As commanding officer of USS Mount Baker (AE-4) for her inactivation, completed last December, I enjoyed reading Commander Hussmann’s article and comparing the Randolph’s reactivation experience with our own. Many of the experiences and resulting solutions were similar to the Mount Baker. In view of the many ship decommissionings, the Mount Baker’s variations might also prove beneficial to other ships.
Our experience would naturally differ somewhat from the Randolph’s. For example, whereas the Randolph went to a modification of the normal shipboard departmental organization, we decided at the start of our inactivation period—after getting some of the ground rules from the Naval Inactive Ship Maintenance Facility, Vallejo, California (InactShipFacVallejo)—that to accomplish everything in the three months allotted, we would have to completely reorganize the crew into task-oriented teams.
Our task-oriented organization had to be made responsive to the ultimate goal; complete inactivation of the ship to such an extent that she could be reactivated within a very short time, nominally 30 days, should the need arise.
Before we could set up the most responsive task organization, however, we realized that first we had to define the scope and depth of our total job. To do this, we scrutinized the pertinent OpNav and Naval Ship Systems Command instructions, and extensively queried the staff of InactShipFacVallejo. We would have to “sell” the ship to the sub-board of Inspection and Survey on that staff before she would be decommissioned.
Several areas, it turned out, would require continuous and extensive effort, namely vent cleaning, preservation, electrical, and machinery repair. The ship’s supply department would also have a large responsibility in phasing out all service operations, and the offloading and transferring all movable materials. By treating these major tasks separately, and planning our work both daily and weekly, we succeeded in eliminating the necessity to repeat jobs, as some earlier inactivating ships had done. For example, the need to repeat jobs came about as a result of improperly or inadequately completing a space, or of one work group preserving one system, only to have someone else, in preserving another system in the same space, leave dust or other corrosion-inducing agent in the space.
With these principal tasks in mind, we re-organized our ship into seven task teams: preservation, vent cleaning, electrical, machinery repair, tool issue, administration, and supply. Officers and chief petty officers were in charge of each team, with petty officers in charge of sub-teams to fit any other situations.
This system worked well throughout most of the inactivation period, but as the end was getting closer, we saw the need for a blanking and sealing team. With final completion in sight for the preservation and vent cleaning teams, we diverted some of these men to the blanking and sealing task.
We felt that our organizational concept was the key to our smooth and successful inactivation effort. It is most advantageous for a ship to be organized optimally from the start of the inactivation period, and then organization should be reviewed periodically for maximum responsiveness to the overall work requirements. Progress should be reviewed with a realistic view to work “to be accomplished.”
In our search for information and guidance at the outset, one commanding officer of an inactivating ship warned against a trap his ship experienced. He was led to believe that the ship was proceeding along on schedule, but when a comprehensive review was made of the work to be accomplished, there was twice the work remaining as was reported.
Since each space and all major equipment must be inactivated (which includes cleaning, preserving, and generally transferring of the equipment), it is essential to maintain the status of all progress. Our experience affirms Commander Hussmann’s point that the work center/sub-center system is the way to exercise positive command and control over inactivation programs.
We used the wardroom as our center, with status charts posted on the bulkheads so the inactivation manager could see the recorded progress of each task team, space, and equipment assigned to it. This, combined with my personal inspection tours, provided a constant progress report.
It might be well to reiterate here that our ship’s company, like the Randolph’s, had no one who had experienced inactivation. The inspectors, of course, had, and they knew what condition each space and equipment had to attain before they would accept it. Like most anything else, however, thorough communication resulted in a productive association.
For optimum use of resources, an inspection and survey (InSurv) must be conducted before the actual inactivation period starts. This is done to get an official decision to “inactivate” or “strike” the ship. For the uninitiated, there is a big difference between each decision. Inactivation requires more intensive work than a strike. For a ship to proceed into an inactivation period before receiving a decision to strike, results in committing the ship’s crew to unproductive work, when men could have been released much earlier for reassignment.
In conclusion, as Commander Hussmann says, a ship’s inactivation period is, at best, something of a demoralizing experience, as a crewmember watches his ship reduce from a fighting lady to lifeless hulk. But with good organization, including timely review, this essential job can be made thoroughly professional.
The Twin Flyers
John C. Carrothers—Many veterans of World War I will remember the sister ships* Great Northern and Northern Pacific as two of the most colorful Navy troopships of that era.
For years I tried in vain to obtain a photograph of this famous pair together. Recently, I was successful in obtaining such a picture. This is a copy of what I believe is the only photograph in existence showing the two ships side by side.
These 525-foot, 12,000-ton liners were built in 1912 by order of James Jerome Hill, known as the empire builder of our great Northwest, and owner of the Great Northern and Northern Pacific Railroads. The ships, each designed to carry 200 crew members and 800 passengers, were built by the William Cramp Shipyard in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.
Mr. Hill ordered these ships because competitors blocked his efforts to obtain trackage rights for his trains from Portland, Oregon, to San Francisco. Determined to extend his railroads’ services to California, he ordered these liners to accomplish his purpose. Speed and luxury were his only demands, and he spared no expense to gain these objectives.
*See J. C. Carrothers, “Hot Foot—The Story of a Ship,” February 1956 PROCEEDINGS, pp. 170-179.
To obtain a guaranteed speed of 25 knots, these triple-screw liners were equipped with Parsons direct connected turbines. Without the use of reduction gears the propellers and turbines turned at the same speed, which was about 350 revolutions per minute at full speed. The wing shafts, which were equipped with astern elements, developed 9,000 h.p. apiece, while the center, or cruising turbine, developed 7,000 h.p. Power for these turbines and the auxiliaries was supplied by 12 oil burning Babcock and Wilcox boilers operating at a pressure of 250 psi. I do not recall what their fuel consumption was; however, I do know that each ship had the reputation of being a “hog on fuel” while operating at full speed. Because of the number of boilers required and the size of the hulls, the boilers were installed in an unorthodox manner for those days. Each ship had two boiler rooms running fore and aft. The firerooms were of the closed type operating under forced draft air pressure. Instead of having the boilers installed athwartship, in banks of three, they were installed along the length of the ship with the backs of the boilers against the ships’ sides.
The ships were an immediate success in the Portland-San Francisco service. Actually, they operated out of Flavelle, Oregon, at the mouth of the Columbia River, about 100 miles down river from Portland. The trains delivered the passengers and freight directly to dockside.
This service did not last for long, however, because shortly after it was inaugurated, the United States became involved in World War I and the ships were immediately requisitioned by the U. S. Navy.
Like some other famous sister ship combinations of the era, one of this pair—the Great Northern—led a long and useful life eventually ending in a ship-breaker’s yard, while the other—the Northern Pacific—was plagued by misfortune, ending in tragedy.
“Retention: The High Cost of Leaving”
(See J. R. Fredland, pp. 44-47, January; pp. 106-109, June; and p. 109, July 1970 PROCEEDINGS)
Lieutenant Commander James F. Keefer, U. S. Navy—A sizable portion of a sailor’s time is spent operating equipment, standing watches, attending military assemblies, and performing maintenance. Administrative and support tasks, evolutions and special details, training, supervision, and job-related conversations can also be labeled ‘work.”
Yet, there are other demands placed upon him which do not fit the definition of work. The most obvious of these is the time he is required to be physically present at his command or on call in a duty status. The sailor must be available in order to react to some contingency or emergency. A certain portion of this time would be spent sleeping, among other things. Sleeping obviously would not be classified by anyone as work, yet in this instance, it certainly could not be called free time, either.
A sailor’s free time is not only encroached upon by his work, but also by his duty status assignments. Regulations which restrict the number of men on liberty to a set percentage have been held in abeyance for the past five or more years. Now, commanders are only restricted by the requirement to have enough men available at all times to react to contingencies and emergencies. Yet, even if an activity is working a 0730-1630 day, five days a week, with a four-section watch rotation, a sailor would still be required to spend an average of 72 hours a week either at work or in a duty status. These 72 hours are far more restrictive than the 45 hours which are the nominal work week.
Reducing those hours could be prohibitively expensive. If we assume that all the work is necessary and that the duty requirements are valid, then the increase in manpower which would be required to decrease the hours certainly seems unattainable in the present budgetary environment.
A requirement to review the validity and necessity of watch and duty requirements and other impositions on a sailor’s time would be a first step to increasing his free time. A statement of policy placing an upper limit on the number of hours a sailor is required to be either physically present at his duty station or on call would go even further to giving Navy men the greater flexibility in ordering their own time that Professor Fredland so rightly says they deserve.
Airman Irving T. J. Cooper, U. S. Naval Reserve—As sideburns continue to drop, the more strident become the demands from base commanders for regulation haircuts. Mustaches, now coming very much into style once again, are only barely tolerated at the most liberal of commands. Beards remain a definite “no-no.” Hence, even when the military man is allowed to don civilian clothes, his closely shorn locks identify him. The desire to “get with it” is vividly demonstrated by the popularity of wig salons around military bases. False mustaches and beards have also become a way of life “on the outside” for military personnel.
Most senior officers are at a loss to explain the necessity of the regulation haircut, except that it is regulation or perhaps he thinks it “looks better.” Youth is quick to point out that many of our great military leaders of the past, including numerous presidents, wore full beards and mustaches. The usual retort that “It was the style back then” carries little weight in light of the fact that such hirsute styles are gaining approval and popularity today in high and respected offices.
As Mr. Fredland points out, civilian society views the enlisted man, “. . . as a second class citizen, supinely accepting an essentially demeaning role.” Even the style of haircut, certainly a personal matter, is dictated to him, seemingly without logical explanation. Hence, as military leaders continue to spell out such regulations which separate their men from current trends, in effect, they also segregate them from the world “out there” and only enforce the desire among them for a speedy return to civilian life.
Commander R. F. Armknecht, U. S. Navy (Retired)—. . . so long as the present selection system pertains, the nose-to-the-grindstone type will prevail over the officer who dares to look over the fence, whether to try out a civilian job, to meet a family emergency, or to further his knowledge through a sabbatical. “Time off” for any such reason would be certain to bring penalties. Since I taught in a university for a dozen years I speak with some knowledge of sabbaticals there. Only in the really top-notch schools are sabbaticals truly honored as a right of the individual and a benefit to the university. Smaller institutions either do not have sabbatical programs, or else restrict them to severely limited numbers. Yet, I think we should try it.
In the past decade, I have known intimately several dozen reserve officers who discussed with me their reasons for not accepting invitations to go regular Navy. The decisive factor was their observation of the frequency with which the officer in von Clausewitz’ “fourth category” manages to achieve command rank.
These “fourth category” officers, with the stupid-energetic syndrome, have poisoned more good young officers than can be imagined. Fearful and insecure, they will not delegate authority. They consistently stifle initiative, but take instant credit if a subordinate’s initiative works out well before they have a chance to interfere. Only when they get far beyond their depth (and I know some who did this even in the rear admiral grade) do they throw in the sponge and let more knowledgeable officers and civilians repair the damage.
Stupidity is much more easily recognized by inferiors. By being a consistent yes-man to superiors an officer’s stupidity may go unrecognized (by superiors) for decades. The remedy here has been suggested in the past, but never implemented. It would provide some sort of marking system by inferiors. Only one profession that I know has a similar situation. In certain colleges and universities, professors and their courses are regularly rated, principally through student-conducted polls, but in several cases, sanctioned by the school authority. It has been, in every case, a salutary thing, and is recognized as such by nearly all faculty I have talked with. We could keep more good young officers if they could respect the judgment of those in command.
Another (and often justified) complaint of quitting officers is that they are not allowed to “take charge” of their assigned spheres. Here is the “fourth category” officer again, demonstrating his deep-seated fear of being caught off-base, and afraid a subordinate will get him into trouble.
In middle command situations the “fourth category” officer is often a martinet. In one instance a young reserve supply officer, wearing all the hats possible on a destroyer, and busier than he had any right to be, was logged “under hack” for ten days (immediately released, of course, to carry on his job, but the record stood) for allowing a messman to enter the wardroom in a jacket with a spot on it. The jacket was stiffly starched, just back from the laundry, and there were no available extras. Doubtless, the ten-day arrest was supposed to remind the young officer that he had failed in his command responsibilities. But, predictably, the lesson was interpreted in quite another way. What the young officer saw was a skipper (commander grade, promoted to captain the next year) who did not know discipline from hazing. Except for the “hack” incident, the young officer’s fitness report was excellent, but he got out as fast as he was able, and has probably averaged twice the pay of his in-service contemporaries since he swallowed the anchor.
This is a sad situation, and there is more to it than rating by subordinates, previously suggested. The ratings by superiors have, in all too many cases, given the benefit of the doubt to the officer who was “trying hard.” Some of us have done better than others whenever we detected one of these well-meaning, but outclassed individuals, by assigning honest swabos in the judgment columns of fitness reports (and not by snide remarks in the discussion—a favorite trick of the “fourth category” superior). But the tendency has been the other way, and the “E for effort” fitness report has unjustly rewarded inferior officers, and has harmed the Service by their continued presence.
Do I sound tough, hard-hearted, and old fashioned? If so, it is only because in the 50-odd years of service and retirement, the welfare of the Navy has always been very close to my heart. If we are to keep the best, the young officer must respect his job and be allowed to perform it with minimum interference, and he must respect his superior because that superior’s knowledge and judgment deserve respect. But, note that I am not interested in keeping warm bodies in our naval organization, just the best young talent obtainable—plus a handful of von Clausewitz’ “stupid-lazy” category, who may be used “in the lower ranks” and who, incidentally, usually allow their juniors to acquire excellent on-the-job training.
Lieutenant Commander J. W. Corey, Jr., U. S. Navy—Rather than extend accumulated leave to 180 days, it would be better to reimburse personnel for unused leave over 60 days. This would tend to remove the disparity that now exists between enlisted men and regular officers. Regular officers cannot be paid for unused leave until their retirement or resignation, whereas enlisted men are eligible for payment of up to 60 days of unused leave every re-enlistment.
The recommended “sabbatical” not only has merit but precedent as well. Many Latin American navies have a policy of granting up to six months of leave with full pay every seven or eight years. Some of the personnel work for private business, some study, and others “ship over” for a cruise in the merchant marine.
A four-year period without pay and losing only two years’ seniority would be improved by the recognition of all postgraduate degrees for pay purposes. Consider, for example, two officers who take their four-year leave at the same time. After four years, one is awarded his doctor of medicine and the other earns his doctor of philosophy degree. The doctor of medicine will receive extra pay compensation and advanced promotion, while the doctor of philosophy may receive a “pat on the back,” and will lose two years’ seniority.
He would also have to examine the Navy’s postgraduate programs at Monterey and other civilian universities. If, and this is a big if, the Navy could obtain the postgraduate skills it needs through a four-year leave program, then Navy sponsorship of PG training should cease, as it would be discriminatory, i.e., PG training with full pay versus PG training without pay and with loss of seniority.
Commander T. W. Lyons, U. S. Navy—I suggest that we give individual officers some say in the amount of leave or delay-in-reporting between changes of duty station, thus permitting them to request any amount of unused earned leave up to 60 days. It would complicate life a little more for the detailer; however, if provision were made to put this information on the preference card or to supply it to the detailer at some fixed period prior to the projected rotation data (PRD), so that it could be considered at the beginning of the detailing and order-writing cycle, it should not be an insurmountable problem.