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Commander Chester Nimitz looked like a civilian as he chopped wood for a family picnic, hut he had already earned a reputation as the Navy’s foremost expert on diesel submarines and was earning another as an influential supporter of carrier aviation. “Nimitz Day,” 5 October 1945, came about because of 40 years worth of days he had devoted to the profession of artns.
The phrase “an officer and a gentleman has long connoted an image of respect—respect for professional expertise as well as for honor and integrity. These words don’t seem to be used as often or in the same manner as they once were. There’s frequently a slight sneer there, a tone of sarcasm, and a hint of disrespect. Are we becoming paranoid and just imagining it? Or are we, the officers of the armed forces, aware that too many in our ranks are not deserving of the phrase? Where did this nagging thought start? Was it during World War II? Or did it grow out of such things as the Pueblo incident, cost overruns of weapon systems, and the hints of misuse of government funds? Does it have anything to do with Vietnam and its false reports, Mylai, or post exchange and drug scandals? Maybe some of us are coming to believe the “bad” press which appears almost daily in the metropolitan papers. We certainly have been the subject of much discussion.
While most would agree that the way others perceive us is important, and that their views on the role of the military establishment are necessary, it would seem even more important how we view ourselves. For our self-image has an impact on those we serve and our capability to perform the function for which the armed forces were created. There is a constant requirement that we identify our limitations, inadequacies, and misdirections. We must somehow modify our attitudes and behavior patterns to avoid repeating past mistakes or falling into future morasses. This article is a bid to identify the differences between what is perceived to be and what should be, including a review of how we arrived at where we are. It aims, if you will, to be an introspection.
The U.S. armed forces have progressively grown and changed. They have been charged with and have accomplished tasks which were unknown to the professional 80 years ago or even ten years ago. These requirements have brought about changes in the role- conception which the individual has of himself and others as “professional” officers in the armed forces. He has also changed his concept of the responsibilities and purposes of the military profession.
There is a widely perceived image throughout the officer corps of our profession that is disturbing and reflects deep concern as to our ability to effectively perform in combat. Many middle- and senior-grade officers are thought of as egocentric, success- motivated, ambitious people who are only marginally skilled in the profession of arms. They are further described as overly politicized, materialistic, without honor, afraid of personal failure, and so engulfed in producing statistical results that they are too busy to talk or listen to subordinates. Such individuals are determined to submit optimistic reports which reflect faultless completion of a variety of tasks at the expense of the frustration of others, and they willfully manipulate policy and the execution of policy for their own self-interest.
True, only the Mr. Hyde aspects were selected in describing the despicable nature of the military Dr. Jekyll. Perhaps only a few officers possess such characteristics, but it does seem that the image of such a Mr. Hyde is surfacing more and more. That sort of widely held image is disturbing, but the perception of the military establishment—the environment in which officership is practiced—is even more disturbing. It is described by some as an organizational house of Borgia characterized as a rank- inflated, sluggish system that rewards insignificant short-term indicators of success. It lacks an understanding of the intangibles, such as morale, esprit, and individual feeling. Implicit is a compulsion to standardize everything. While beneficial in respect to such things as materiel techniques and data, unfortunately also included in the process is the drive to standardize people by punching them into specific categories that will enable an information system to satisfy its appetite.
The military establishment is being accused of becoming so mesmerized by the business techniques of management that many times it persists in the use of those techniques long after they have been proved unworkable. Some have been used even though their applicability was questionable. This emphasis on managerial and technical aspects has placed emphasis on things rather than people. The military establishment is seen by many to be on—and maintaining—a steady course toward impersonal, centralized, bureaucratic favoritism. It apparently fails to appreciate the actual conditions confronting the military units.
Since such an image exists in varying degrees, how did it come about? There is little evidence to suggest that influences external to the armed forces have been the primary causative factors. Therefore, many of our wounds must, for the most part, be self-inflicted. Are these perceptions the result of the Vietnam debacle, are they reflections of society which we bring with us into the armed forces, or are they due to other, more subtle factors?
During the period that the United States was involved in World War II, over half the federal government’s income and a great share of its human resources were diverted to military use. The nation and its people were truly mobilized for a crusade. Simultaneously, the difference between military and civilian activity became less and less separately identifiable, because many of the newly-commissioned officers and draftees were performing in jobs similar to the ones they had been involved with prior to finding themselves in the “military.”
Many of these “military men” played the roles of economists, scientists, and diplomats. It isn’t surprising that the Army sent 37 officers to the Quebec conference in the autumn of 1944. Other “military men” performed their wartime duties in ocean and land transport, industrial relations, and other previously civilian occupations. However, many of their assistants were drawn from the ranks of the career officers, probably to explain to and teach the recently-commissioned officers the military aspects of their acquired responsibilities. Eventually, even the War Planning Board and the Office of Price Administration became the provinces of many career officers. Prior to World War II, most officers in the military establishment had spent the better part of their careers in purely operational assignments traditional to their profession. But as the war progressed, career officers became more and more enmeshed in activities that formerly had been the province of their civilian counterparts. After the war, such activities were not reduced but continued to expand.
With the adoption of the National Security Act of 1947, not only was the military establishment reorganized, but birth was given to additional agencies with functions concerned with national security. National security in its entirety became more of a functional responsibility of most agencies of the federal government. With a nation at war and the responsibilities acquired at war’s end, few could or can criticize such a concept. But as awareness of such responsibility came to be realized, the detailed functions of the governmental agencies became more intertwined. This situation was well articulated by former Secretary of Defense James R. Schlesinger when he said that ”... a random selection of activities undertaken by the Navy, other than operations of the fleets, and forces, shows a scope and diversity touching on nearly every phase of human endeavor.” Interservice, interagency, and intergovernmental contacts became less and less uncommon.
As years passed, the assignment of officers to duties perhaps more appropriately included within the functions of other agencies of government came to be regarded as commonplace and a permanent fixture within American government. It became even more difficult to segregate and identify the specifically military functions of the military establishment. The traditional distinction between military and civilian affairs in the United States slowly became less and less distinct. Even the task of the military establishment to plan and conduct military operations became less and less autonomous. World War II also had produced an abundance of civilian analysts and technicians—as well as a number of
politicians—who spoke easily and readily in military i terms. They had “broken the code”—the language of the profession—without, in many cases, seeming to understand the meaning. To counteract this group and its advocacy of a reduction of resources available to the armed forces, more and more talent was devoted to cope with the attacks and questions \ emanating from these nonmilitary individuals. Military staffs grew at tremendous rates, and many career officers began to practice the civilian techniques required by the increasingly transitory leadership of the Department of Defense. Some officers saw the handwriting on the wall, and the halls of Harvard as well as other academic institutions renowned for their “modern management systems curriculum” became the training fields for future generals.
From an organizational viewpoint, a vast civil- tnilitary bureaucracy was enhanced with the formation of the DoD. It still continues to grow, although, in many cases, in a more disguised manner. The Pentagon, “the building,” the five-sided funny farm, depending on one’s attitude toward the organisation, are all descriptions interchangeably used to denote the vast assemblage of civilian and military i talent. The influence of such an organization on the pattern of behavior of the armed forces over the past 20 years has greatly affected the system of priorities, goals, and values, not only of the organization, but °f the individual professional as well. As the DoD establishment grew, so did the type and number of tssues facing the military establishment. More liaison was required between the military and civilians within DoD. These, in turn, created the need for additional liaison between the military and the Congress, other executive agencies, industry, and so on. The layers became deeper and deeper.
As the number of activities grew, personnel increases became necessary to provide adequate staffing. Soon many officers were selected for staffs based on their particular expertise in technical managerial qualifications rather than in excellence in the profession of arms. The necessity, validity, and desirability of the military becoming enmeshed in all these activities was not in question. As staffs grew, it seems that military personnel increasingly began to acquire some of the undesirable side effects of many sophisticated bureaucracies. Status, choice assignments, and empire-building became more and more important because of the need (either actual or perceived) for visibility and recognition in a large organization. Bureaucratic methods and procedures, at times, became the drive, replacing performance of the function for which a position was designed.
It should not come as a surprise, then, that those educated, trained, and operating in the bureaucratic Pentagon environment would apply those techniques learned to be effective in that environment in the environment of combat. Neither should it come as a surprise that many of the middle- and upper-grade officers of the armed forces have acquired values and goals similar to those found in industries and other
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large bureaucracies. There is the tendency, perhaps, to deal in the same manner of pursuing a consensus and follow a consultative style and the same apparent manner of achieving success—by staying in or near the seat of power. Certain high-level members of the officer corps appear to be working in a circular environment; moves are made within the circle, and few and seldom are outsiders or renegades permitted in the inner circle. The insiders move from the JCS joint staff to service headquarters to DoD, and back again to the joint staff. The upcoming military officers are today being described by some as “the future business-type military leaders.” And in appearance as well as manner, members of the armed forces are becoming more like their industrial colleagues. The civilian business suit is, in effect, “the uniform of the day” in these circles. Thus, it should not be surprising that “materialism,” the ever- increasing emphasis on things, has become paramount to many.
Apparently not realized, however, is that within the armed forces, not one, but two important images are developing as a result of the bureaucratic, technocratic layering. Many military leaders are becoming more and more isolated from those they allegedly serve—the operational units and individuals of the armed forces—and the gap is widening. Talent is drawn off, interest and the ability to conduct war are being misdirected, and skill and expertise in the art of war are being impaired or not developed. Our ability to perform the primary function of conducting war has taken a significant step toward mediocrity.
Some high-ranking military officers are today more closely related to foreign affairs, industrial management, and technology than to the attributes necessary to lead and command the armed forces. They may understand the judgment of political leaders, executive agencies, and other specialists, but they don’t seem to have a good understanding of the profession of arms. Such an understanding becomes mandatory when a nation goes to war. But, with attention diverted to other matters, expertise and skill in the art of war have held a much lower priority than these other considerations. Senior officers evaluate the capabilities of their subordinates. The tendency of subordinates to acquire expertise in
Each morning, military officers go into the Pentagon, but it is how they come out that is of growing concern since many emerge from duty there knowing more about bureaucratic infighting, political brawling, and technocratic espionage and less about the profession of arms.
those areas of importance to their seniors is understandable, for many believe that the pathway to success is just such expertise. Success is then found in the passageways of the higher headquarters and the executive agencies of government, and not in the day-to-day activities of training and leading troops. Success has a different meaning to each individual.
One’s perception may or may not be the same as that held by the majority of those comprising the corporate entity. Nevertheless, the “official” criteria of success, as held by the corporate entity, are highly important to the members of any organization. Striving for “official” success may be a root cause of frustration, confusion, disillusionment, and resignation. The result may be ticket-punching yes-men.
An argument which seems quite prevalent today is that the military reflects the values of society as a whole. This argument further states that such reflections are desirable. Isolation from the society, it is said, would produce an “alien” culture to be feared.
The opposing view is that to maintain the professional expertise of the armed forces, they, of necessity, must be isolated to a degree from the transitory values held by the parent society. In these arguments both for and against greater convergence of the military and civilian society, it would appear that those advocating a closer melding are now in power. Societal problems, attitudes, and values have become so fused to the military standards that there is little, if any, differentiation. There was, at one time, a great hesitancy by most officers to accept many of society’s contemporary values and goals. Today, many are accepted without strong objection. We } veered from those tried and proven attitudes, values, and goals, saying, “Times have changed.” Little by
little, it appears that our entire course has been changed because we are losing sight of the reason for our existence.
This two-headed image of isolated leadership and reduced ability to conduct war may not have come about were it not for the Cold War, Korea, and, ultimately, Vietnam. Years of peace tend to have a stultifying effect on the bureaucracy in the military. A peaceful nation shunts the military to the sidelines, reduces funds, and forces us, if you will, to get back to what we were doing before—training in the art of war. But we have had no peace as we knew it before World War II, and after an event such as Vietnam, the nation woke up with a bad taste in its mouth and looked around to find a hero or two. None was available. The national military hero had become an endangered species. This could be due in part because the threshold between the civil and military way of life had been largely erased. Fusion had advanced to the degree that the traditional “heroic leader” had all but disappeared. We found our heroes in the quasi-military exploration of the moon and in the quasi-combat world of professional sports.
Since a hero couldn’t be found, we searched for someone at whom we could point the finger of failure and, again, none was available. The transformation was nearly complete. The military had become so enmeshed and involved in activities other than the conduct of war that specific responsibilities for actions taken during the conflict could not be placed. It was the “politico-military” decision-makers who thought that the method of employing material and the sophisticated weaponry—a method which had worked in World War II—would easily defeat the ill-equipped, primitive forces of the Viet Cong and North Vietnam. To use this abundance of material, a large-scale military force was employed. However, the proficiency of that force was seldom questioned. Numbers of people and equipment were the main concerns. With the exception of a few isolated instances, elan, expertise, and skill in the conduct of war were seldom, if ever, mentioned. In the truest sense we attempted “to refight the last war.” The raw material, and the individual soldier, airman, sailor, and Marine, were excellent, but it is not enough to supply arms and equip a military machine. The fighting man must be led, from the flag officer down.
Good leadership can compensate for deficiencies in many aspects; the reverse is not true if we apply Napoleon’s maxim that the morale is to the material as three is to one. Transitory leadership such as that applied in Vietnam can never be effective, particularly when the purpose for seeking such leadership may be a “ticket punch.” Those acquiring such leadership positions may not have the necessary skill, the expertise, or the dedication in the profession of arms. The individual soldier may be trained in a year or so; commanders and staff officers cannot.
Absence in continuity of leadership of our forces in Vietnam was paid for with great sacrifice. Lessons had to be learned over and over and over again every six months when commanders and staff officers were changed. Although we were involved in Vietnam for nearly 12 years, it does not follow that our military force or its leaders, had 12 years of experience. Many really had only six months to a year’s experience.
Today, many young officers are approaching the same philosophical crossroad that all officers at some time or other must pass—loyal adherence to a set of ideals versus the perceived necessity to compromise their ideals in order to survive. There are still some officers who do not believe that young men and women are alienated by living by the standards that our society still regards as high: loyalty, honesty, and integrity. These same officers believe that an overly civilianized military results in uncertainty and frustration among those entering the armed forces. One of the problems the younger generation has in relating to the older generation is a lack of standards or guidelines to give purpose to what they do and what they are.
Although the American tradition has essentially been an unmilitary one, America possesses the raw material to make excellent soldiers, sailors, airmen, and Marines. They are well-fed, well-developed, and enterprising by nature, and have untapped nervous energy. In the past, the United States has been blessed with military leaders to lead such men when the need arose. Upon examination, we find our past success has been due to the few “military professionals” who, during periods of peace, have maintained and developed their skill, expertise, and, above all, their dedication to the profession of arms.
Now, however, there are officers who believe that the role of the military leader has significantly changed since World War II. They believe that he should be more active in a politico-military role and more active in the formulation of foreign policy. Such a belief has changed our professional ideology as well as our role in society. At one time, officers would spend as long a time as possible in actual command of troops. To make headway in the system today, it seems to many that the clearest path to promotion is the road of the politicized technocrat or bureaucrat.
If one agrees that the objective of having armed
forces is to provide for war, then we must closely scrutinize derivative and secondary functions to ensure that they actually do remain secondary and that they have not, and are not, replacing the primary function. As desirable as secondary functions and activities may appear to be, they still compete with and detract from the professional’s time and effort to pursue the study and training of the profession of arms and, therefore, our overall military capability. Although the degree has never been determined, the present tendency and apparent desire of many of the higher-grade officers to identify with the political, managerial, and technological style of the bureaucrat must necessarily detract from the armed forces’ ability to fight.
Adhering more closely to the traditional role of the military and attempting to withdraw from some of the diverse activities now undertaken would have a tendency to isolate the armed forces from the society which they serve. There are those who believe that a separation brought about by isolation would pose a threat to society. However, a counter argument would be that, considering the primary function of the military, it would be even more dangerous to society if military members were dispersed throughout the government, thus providing a significant influence to all policy decisions. Additionally, military men should never be measured by the same standards as the larger society because of the uniqueness of the service provided to the society and of the unlimited liability clause in their contract. This contract calls for them to serve in either peace or war and thus sets them apart from their civilian contemporaries. A professional military force cannot be developed if it is identical in attitude, appearance, and values to a contemporary society which tends to vacillate and is easily influenced by faddism.
Considering this dichotomy, it would seem more beneficial both to the nation and to the armed forces if a deliberate move be made toward the traditional role of the military. Such a deliberate move would provide the officer corps with the incentive, direction, and sense of purpose to improve its qualifications and competence in the profession of arms. This in turn, would enhance its professional authority and political independence, which today it apparently lacks when compared to other high status professionals. Withdrawal from secondary functions would also permit the armed forces to more closely examine the human qualities of the officer corps. Such traditional, necessary qualities as integrity, self-restraint, fortitude, and loyalty, the hallmarks of a professional fighting force, could be brought more sharply into focus and emphasized. For the military profession depends upon these qualities not only for its attractiveness but for its efficiency. Nothing can replace the strength of character an individual must have to be a leader.
Withdrawal from secondary functions and the resulting reduction in associations with the larger society is not without cost. Involved would be a decreasing military influence in the affairs of government. However, in terms of establishing a viable military identity, reward would far exceed cost. Those choosing to enter or remain in the armed forces would be able to provide military advice and opinion. No longer would they be asked to attempt to stand with a foot in every camp. Guilt by association, although not a thing of the past, would be less likely. It would, however, be easier to establish responsibility and determine accountability within the military establishment. Those careerists who are “not fit to wear the brevet,” could be more readily identified. There would be less running roughshod over subordinates and peers for one’s own aggrandizement.
For success of such a proposal, one has only to look to history. The social isolation of the military enhanced military professionalization after World War I and provided the foundation for the development of forces and leaders in World War II. No longer do we have the periods of secure peace to blanket us in anonymity and to force us to “get on with it.” So, we’d better do it ourselves, because of one thing we can be sure. Should large numbers of the officer corps continue to perceive that many of their fellow officers possess and are rewarded for those Mr. Hyde qualities described earlier, the ability and effectiveness of the armed forces to perform their function in time of war will be seriously impaired. The business of the armed forces is to conduct war when called upon. This we must never forget.
Colonel Dunwell was a 1952 NROTC graduate of Oregon State University. He is now the operations officer, Third Marine Division, Okinawa. He has served with the Third Marine Division in Japan, First Marine Division in Korea and Marine Corps Test Unit #1 at Camp Pendleton. While assigned to the Second Marine Division he participated in the Lebanese landing with Battalion Landing Team 1/8. After a tour in the USS Princeton (LPH-5), he served with the First Marine Brigade in Hawaii, and was later the Marine Officer Instructor at the University of California, Berkeley. He commanded an artillery battalion in Vietnam and is a graduate of the Industrial College of the Armed Forces. His more recent assignments have been in Legislative Assistance, Headquarters Marine Corps, Logistics Plans, Commander-in-Chief U.S. Naval Forces, Europe, Policy Section Supreme Headquarters Allied Powers Europe, and on the Strategic Research Group, National War College.