Even though destroyers have now celebrated their sixtieth anniversary, the new skipper will find unsolved command problems waiting for him when he arrives aboard. And when these are solved, there will always be others.
The following ideas are the result of musing over the events of about two years of command in destroyers. To start with the obvious, even the destroyer skipper with a DE or other previous command background will find that there are differences in the type of responsibilities inherent in his new command. In some respects he may have less responsibility than before, in others, he will have vastly more. His new command is rarely if ever independent. He will no longer be on his own. The “when” and the “how” are well laid down and need only be executed. In this sense his new responsibilities may be less. Modern destroyers operate fast, hard, continuously— and together. The destroyer skipper daily operates a high-powered ship—a seagoing sports car—almost constantly in the close proximity of other ships, and under a variety of conditions. Close calls and occasional newspaper headlines about collisions make him uncomfortably aware that in this business, mistakes can be fatal. In this sense, the responsibility of a destroyer skipper is infinitely more than he may have faced previously.
The basic problems of command may be the same for any ship, but circumstances vary from one type to the next and from one time period to another. One factor which operates against today’s destroyer is the lack of time. The term “time compression” has been used. It is expressive. The most precious commodity in a destroyer is time. Its scarcity makes for the most difficult of problems. Time must be found to prepare young officers properly for the greater responsibilities they must assume within a few short months. Time must be found to maintain the main engines in spite of a schedule crammed with commitments. Time must be found to squeeze in the required competitive exercises. Time must be taken to insure that the quarterly allotment is properly managed. When a destroyer captain devotes “command attention” to one specific problem, he must remember that the clock may be running out on the others.
Since the prime responsibility of the commanding officer is to present a well trained and effective instrument, a logical place to begin is with the training of the officer of the deck. It is the OOD who will—in the long run—make or break the “Old Man’s” reputation, save his life, or perhaps literally kill him.
About ten years ago, when I was suffering from youth and inexperience, I wrote an article, entitled “Captain, Stay Away From That Conn!”1 Now, bloody but unbowed, I adhere to the sentiments which gave rise to the title of my earlier article. The remarks which follow are an amplification for the specialized case of a destroyer.
The story is told of a skipper of a bygone era who was an enthusiastic proponent of vesting the OOD with the ultimate in latitude of decision. He did not wish to be called unless in extremis. One day at sea in company, he was startled by hearing the OOD pass the word, “Captain, better get up here. This one’s going to be a beauty!”
This, like Mark Twain’s death, may be an exaggeration. But if the OOD hasn’t had experience getting underway, coming alongside the nest, fueling at sea day and night, or joining up, he just really isn’t an OOD and should not be left aboard in port as a Command Duty Officer. Furthermore, he should not have done these things only once with the captain breathing down his neck. He should have done them many times. But here again in the fast-moving destroyer world, the captain must remember that the inexperienced sports car driver can get into trouble fast. There may be a period of only a few seconds between a safe, properly executed maneuver and a situation which is undesirable, unpleasant, unsafe, dangerous, or fatal.
There are relatively few situations in which the captain should take the conn. Obviously when he first goes aboard, he wants to run through the mill himself so that he can sense how the ship behaves in a variety of situations. He wants to have the conn when entering a strange or difficult harbor. He wants to have the conn in a genuine emergency if the OOD is not experienced to the point where he anticipates the captain’s desires and reacts to his complete satisfaction. Finally, the captain should keep the conn during replenishment in heavy weather where the conditions are marginal. The theory here is that she is your own ship and you may as well have the fun of smashing her up yourself.
At first this high-powered, hands-off policy is going to result in a somewhat less expert performance than we hope the skipper would turn in himself. This is the price which he and his seniors must be willing to pay for the well trained OOD. He is also buying life insurance for himself and his ship which he can obtain in no other way. For example, it is prudent to appear on the bridge for a screen reorientation—especially at night. But suppose it has been a long day and there are a lot of screen reorientations at night—possibly at darken ship and in a complete communications silence. You are proud of yourself the next morning because you remember getting up for all eight reorientations. Wait—you find out at breakfast that there were ten! The other two times you were so dead to the world that neither the messenger nor his friend the lee helmsman could raise you. This is quite sobering when it happens. The best way to make sure that you are around to wake up is to equip the OOD with all the experience you can. In addition, you reap side benefits such as having high wardroom morale and a ship esprit de corps which comes in an organization where the officers can perform and all hands know it.
This discussion is not intended to ignore the potential which exists in the form of a well- trained and competent executive officer. Navy Regs are very specific with respect to the commanding officer’s responsibilities in training his exec. He who is wise will carry them out. In addition, it has been stated many times by high authority that a fresh exec on the bridge is of more use than a worn- out skipper. The point is, though, that a tragedy may occur some night when the executive officer is not on tap as watchdog. On this basis, a fresh, well-trained OOD is even better insurance.
The semi-transient status of young officers in the Navy is unfortunately reflected in the tenure of officers aboard. Here again, a sizable problem for other types can become almost monstrous in destroyers because of the time compression factor. Generally department heads are carefully groomed and home grown. We have fleeting-up programs, and use fleet schools to the hilt. We craftily try to outguess the crystal ball only to be thwarted at the last moment by a promising officer being yanked for a new program or being lost to submarines. But, surprisingly, we do pretty well on the department head level.
Often overlooked, but frequently a factor of almost equal importance to the assignment of department head responsibility, is the assignment of collateral duty to younger officers. Seemingly insignificant collateral duties assist in the naval education of the incumbents, make life more carefree for the skipper and exec, and have a beneficial effect on the ship at large. For example, an enthusiastic athletic officer may be able to organize a championship basketball team. A good information and education officer can muster men who are completing USAFI courses to the betterment of themselves, their ship, and the U. S. Navy. A legal officer can save the exec considerable time before mast. And finally, a good mess treasurer can keep the wardroom purring. A collateral duty shouldn’t be bundled up and thrown at an unsuspecting fugitive from a college campus when he comes up the gangway. It should be turned over in an orderly manner. Preferably, the new hopeful should be an understudy for a month or so.
Nelson’s relations with his captains are by far the best historical example existing of complete trust and confidence and loyalty— down and up. Ideally we should achieve this relationship in any wardroom. Once again, this is particularly important in a destroyer. The need is greater. Perhaps the skipper does not fancy himself a Nelson, but how does he know that he does not have in his wardroom a potential Blackwood, Hardy, de Saumarez, or Collingwood? He should give them a chance. The spirit which existed in Nelson’s fleet before Trafalgar must exist—at least in part—in any successful wardroom. For a contrast both in attitude and results, we have only to look to Villeneuve, whose command was marred by doubt, distrust, and jealousy.
It may happen occasionally that a young officer will come aboard lacking the ability to live up to the steadily increasing responsibilities he should normally acquire. When this occurs, it should be made a wardroom project to assist him within the limits of time and human patience available. Any glimmers of interest or talent should be carefully explored and cultivated. Even though a possibility exists that it is not simply a case of a “late bloomer,” the man is entitled to the trust and loyalty of everyone. Insuring that this is done may require the personal attention of the captain. Finally, when all possibilities have been exhausted without result, it must be reluctantly decided that his presence is a burden upon the wardroom and upon the ship which can no longer be borne. It is then time to reach for the BuPers Manual and institute detachment proceedings. Nelson’s “band of brothers” were all performers; the others did not remain.
Along with the captain’s hand in the officer of the deck training come other responsibilities which might be called officer education and guidance. While both these programs must have a formal basis, there should be a healthy and well planned but informal method of attack. A wardroom library of professional but reasonably light reading is essential. Books such as Collision Course, Tragedy at Honda, a file of U. S. Naval Institute Proceedings, and good navy novels are all full of vicarious experience and an opportunity to profit from someone else’s mistakes. In addition the BuPers pamphlets, Case Instruction in Collisions and Groundings are excellent for either individual reading or discussion groups. Not everyone likes to read, but interest can be stimulated. Another opportunity to create interest, is swapping officers and petty officers back and forth with allied navies. If the ship is ever fortunate enough to be dealt into a SEATO or NATO exercise, this is a good idea. The Buck did this with HMAS Vendetta during exercise PONY EXPRESS in the spring of 1961 to the mutual benefit of both ships. In addition to having our Chief Engineer and ASW officer find out how things worked in their respective departments in another navy, we reaped immediate benefits. Upon joining the U.K. group at the start of the exercise, our own commodore disappeared over the horizon with the rest of the U. S. destroyers. His place was taken by a U.K. captain. All of us may speak English— of sorts—but the accents and procedures vary. Having an Australian radarman handle our PRITAC and translate worked like a dream. As a result, the OOD, after he cranked on 25 knots to gallop along with the rest of the Queen’s Navy, had a fair assurance that he was headed for the right slot. During the exercise, our forced-fed OOD’s of one or two years’ service, kept in the same cricket match with their U.K. counterparts and sometimes were a wicket or so ahead, despite averaging half the service time.
“Guidance” in Webster’s is defined, helpfully, as “something that guides.” Reading further we see a reference to “leadership.” Here we limit our attention to the informal program which must supplement the formal and which in the end may be more worthwhile. The point here is that the captain should be available in the wardroom, on the bridge, and in the engine room to answer questions, to ask a few, and to keep himself informed on the ship and the officers and men who man her. If he isn’t, he is missing a very satisfying experience and an opportunity to boost his own performance.
Finally, the destroyer commanding officer’s influence extends far beyond the year or two that he has the loan of his ship. The young officers in his wardroom probably know— intimately at least—about one senior officer in the Navy, and he’s it. If he does his job, his career-motivated officers will get a good start up the ladder. Some of his non-career officers may change their minds and sign on. And those who don’t may easily be the best civilian friends the Navy will ever have.
1. See W. B. Hayler, “Captain, Stay Away from That Conn!” U. S. Naval Institute Proceedings, August 1953, p. 855.