In August I attended the dedication ceremony for the Vice Admiral James B. Stockdale A-4C Skyhawk memorial adjacent to the main gate bearing his name at Naval Air Station North Island. Around 200 guests attended the ceremony, including Marine General James N. Mattis. Noteworthy was the attendance of 40 Sailors from the Pre-Commissioning Unit Stockdale (DDG-106), which was no doubt due to the prudent leadership of its prospective commanding officer, Commander Frederick W. Kacher.
The event resurrected that old question Winston Churchill raised in his essays, Thoughts and Adventures. "Can modern communities do without great men? Can they dispense with hero-worship? Can the common sense of the masses provide a larger wisdom, a nobler sentiment, more vigorous actions than were ever got from the Titans?"
While the event lauded one man, the remarks from all the speakers extolled the virtues of dedication, duty, sacrifice, honor, and the core element of character. Quite honestly it is a rare occasion in our self-absorbed and indulgent society to hear such comments, albeit from speakers several generations removed from the current crop of Sailors. Regardless, because of the man honored and the guests present, I felt like I was part of a living humanities lesson.
I am of the opinion that ceremonies—whether a funeral, memorial, dedication, or historical remembrance—not only honor an individual, select group, or an event but contribute to the formation of an institutional ethos. Part of this lies in the fact that a great number of speakers, in their given role, strive to master the English language to deliver a thought that illuminates the loss or encapsulates an event to such an extent that those in attendance are raised to a higher plane and made more conscious of their duty.
Naval legends and epic naval events must be revered and held in perpetuity. Accordance of honor is not a waste of time nor is it inappropriate to order Sailors to attend such ceremonial events. Formation of an institutional character comes about by intentional leadership—and sometimes it means ordering people to do what is right when they do not see it that way.
In addition, ceremonial events extol ethos. Whether it is the actions of several or of one, the ceremony demonstrates what an individual or group is made of, what they value, and what they hold dear—and be assured it is not self. Sailors who sit in the audience learn about sacrifice and service, of having values that do not focus on self-aggrandizement but rather on loyalty, fidelity, and trust.
Finally, if time, limited resources, and training can be set aside to educate officers and Sailors on current and rapidly changing best business practices then surely the same could be done to create a sense of belonging to an institution that honors its heroes and celebrates its history.
During my 22-years as a naval chaplain I attended and presided over numerous ceremonial events. Some were listed as "command events" which meant "all hands in attendance." Others were in the "optional" category. Optional ceremonies are usually not attended for a variety of reasons: "We are too busy," "Our operational tempo is so demanding we cannot add another event that has no direct bearing on our mission," "Our Sailors cannot relate to events of another era," or, "We bury a lot of heroes here—they are all the same." Attendance at the optional ones, in my opinion, reveals who understands the concept of a naval ethos.
The bottom line is that ceremonies are an opportunity to educate and a sign that we endeavor to maintain the noble link to the past. Without malice, I am left to wonder if the affairs of naval life have become so demanding that there is no time to honor heroes. Or has the naval vocation turned into a career pursuit that relegates such events to the category "Of No Significant Matter?" I am prone to argue and hope that such is not the case, but if leaders do not maintain sacred and honorable traditions, then the character of the institution suffers and possibly the opportunity to influence and change the lives of Sailors is forever lost.