If the Farnese Hercules should come to life and step down from its pedestal into a made-to-measure naval officer's uniform (and perhaps have its beard trimmed!), it would make, few will deny, an impressive and inspiring figure of a leader. This inspiration would be heightened, no doubt, if the living statue demonstrated, as Hercules could, its physical strength and skill. But if this imaginary creature proved that it did not possess professional ability, loyalty, common sense, judgment—in short, all the really great attributes of a commander—it might as well turn to marble again for all the value it would have as a leader of men.
Yet physical ability and prowess are unquestionably of value in leadership. I do not believe that they can be substituted for even one of the vital requirements, but they are useful as an additional, an augmenting force. There have been great leaders who were almost the antithesis of physical strength and prowess—Nelson is the most familiar example. On the other hand, their splendid bodies and rugged sturdiness were undoubtedly helpful to Washington, Farragut, and Jeb Stuart, not merely in enabling them to endure, but in making them inspiring figures to their men. Our enlisted men, too, are very quick to note and appreciate physical prowess. Who has not heard them comment favorably on the batting eye of the baseball officer, on the shoulders of the ensign wrestling coach, or on the hardiness of the captain who likes to go swimming over the side? Any display of vigor and activity like this last on the part of older officers always makes a great impression on the men. Because of their own youth they instinctively consider anyone even approaching forty as superannuated and they are surprised, pleased, and proud when the contrary is proved.
The real athletes, of course, have a great advantage over us dubs in this matter of physical prestige. Ability in a sport, and particularly ability to coach it, will always provide an officer with a priceless key to popularity with the men. If he then combines with this popularity the higher qualities of character and personality, he can become a leader of power and value indeed. We have, happily, so many officers of this type in the Navy that the reader may easily select his own example.
But what about the dub? There are several ways in which he can acquire some physical prestige with his men. For one thing, I think that the average division officer should be able to outswim and out- shoot (with rifle or pistol) the average man in his division. Probably most of them can, right now. Some people may disagree about the swimming. But the average officer, if he is a Naval Academy man, has had a lot more attention paid his swimming, by himself and others, than has the average enlisted man. At any rate, every naval man should endeavor to be a good swimmer. As to shooting, it is, up to a certain degree of excellence, chiefly a matter of intelligence, and a little care and concentration will enable the division officer to demonstrate his superiority over most of his men in this line. In neither of these matters need we be ostentatious; when the time comes for swimming tests or rifle range we simply go out and qualify. But the men get the word—they watch us closely, we know—and we benefit a little, accordingly.
Officers ought to do at least some of the morning physical drill with their men. This can serve a threefold purpose. Usually, due to their Naval Academy or other training, the officers can execute the movements better than the men, so they instruct by example; the men also see how well the officers can perform; and the exercise does the officers physical good! Officers will find that they can generally outrun their men, so the morning double-timing furnishes another opportunity to demonstrate physical superiority.
If the majority of us are dubs in sport, remember, so are the majority of the enlisted men. Officers with only a little ability in baseball, for instance, will usually find their assistance on their divisions’ teams welcomed, if not sought after. They will also often find that intelligence and speed will make up in large part for natural aptitude, and that these qualities will be generously appreciated by the men.
Exercise taken regularly undoubtedly develops the endurance so necessary to the officer in all phases of his work. I am not sure how much it improves his physical endurance, but I do believe that the discipline of exercise and games strengthens his mental endurance which is, after all, the main thing. Thus the game-player, the student of physical discipline, won’t let himself give up, because it isn’t “cricket.”
A very simple manner, too much neglected by us all, in which to demonstrate physical prowess is by carriage. The enlisted man may not understand why one officer is a "swell-looking guy" and why another is just a "little fellow with two stripes" but he does see that there is a difference. Exercise and thought can improve carriage and it is worth the effort. There's a point for us dubs. It is often said that such-and-such an athlete doesn't look like one; we can strive to look like the athletes we are not!
Again—for we must not forget it—no breadth of shoulder or fleetness of foot or keenness of eye can possibly make up for the real qualities of leadership in an officer. These must be cultivated first, or rather, with chief emphasis, for physical prowess may be developed at the same time, of course. Nor will it do to over-emphasize the physical, even though the other qualities are well matured. You wish to be superior, but not to the point of making others feel inferior. Your men will quickly find you out if you commit either of these errors. On the other hand, they are generous souls, hero-worshippers whose idols are very much more those of ring and diamond than of Lake Erie or even Manila Bay. Therefore, if we can fit in somewhat with their conception of heroes our prestige is certainly enhanced with them, and our "task" as leaders made easier.