This html article is produced from an uncorrected text file through optical character recognition. Prior to 1940 articles all text has been corrected, but from 1940 to the present most still remain uncorrected. Artifacts of the scans are misspellings, out-of-context footnotes and sidebars, and other inconsistencies. Adjacent to each text file is a PDF of the article, which accurately and fully conveys the content as it appeared in the issue. The uncorrected text files have been included to enhance the searchability of our content, on our site and in search engines, for our membership, the research community and media organizations. We are working now to provide clean text files for the entire collection.
“In the POW camps of Hanoi the guys who did not get sick . . . did not . . . because they had the will and strength, both spiritually and physically, to keep themselves going.”
I have always made a practice of observing those in leadership positions— the qualities they possess, their personalities, and the styles that they employ. I have also studied extensively about great military leaders in history. And contrary to popular belief, there is certainly no such thing as a stereotype in the military profession. There are unquestionably many different personalities and styles among those who are considered to be fine military leaders.
Although there is clearly no standard personality or style, most military leaders do possess certain qualities in common. The message, for one seeking to improve his leadership skills, is not to try to adapt his particular personality to a personality or style that he thinks is effective but to concentrate on trying to acquire and enhance certain important qualities.
Good leaders understand the importance of loyalty. First and foremost, they are loyal to the organization to which they are assigned. They are good shipmates. They also fully subscribe to that old Navy adage—“You must be loyal both up and down.” The strength of our chain of command and the entire Navy, for that matter, is vitally dependent upon this important relationship between the junior and senior.
Most strong leaders eagerly seek responsibility. They have the attitude that “somebody has to be in charge, and it might as well be me.” They enjoy authority, the power that goes with that authority, and the ability to achieve worthwhile ends through the exercise of that authority. They willingly accept the increased risk and accountability that goes with increased responsibility. They are very fiercely competitive and possess a high degree of pride; they satisfy that pride by accomplishing meaningful things. In short, they are fighters with a strong will to win.
Good leaders also have a very fine “people” sense. They make a point of learning about those who work for them, like where their families are from and what their family situation is. They keep their finger on the pulse of their crew and take those timely actions that foster good morale and an esprit de corps. They seem to have an uncanny knack for keeping track of people, maintaining what I call a “people file” in their heads. As they go through their careers, good leaders remember those who have reputations for good performance. When these leaders move to new assignments, they often reach into that “people file” and seek to have some of those outstanding individuals assigned to their command. This, I guess, may be the key to the success of outstanding leaders. They attract good personnel and then inspire them to do their best.
Most fine leaders are highly disciplined. They have learned that they simply cannot control others unless they can first control themselves. They are able to make well-defined goals and then channel their resources effectively in meeting those goals. They set strict priorities and resist temptations to engage in non-productive pursuits.
Most good military leaders also have a high degree of what I call intellectual discipline. They are able to organize their thinking to analyze complex situations, develop a course of action, and then apply their efforts to getting the problem solved. It is commonly thought that discipline applies primarily to physical attributes and behavior, but intellectual discipline has been the most important prerequisite 1 have found to handle the responsibilities and challenges I have faced while advancing in my career.
Most good leaders are intelligent; this entails having a breadth of knowledge on many subjects and most significantly the ability to perceive the important. Most good leaders can assess very complicated Problems and a mass of detail and pick °ut the gut issues. They then make hmely, firm decisions and apply the resources to get the job done. They are able to see the forest as well as the trees; they do not become so wrapped up in the urgent that they ignore the important.
Certainly intelligence is to a large degree an innate quality, but I contend it can be improved. How? Observe with fervor occurrences around you, read broadly, and attempt to diversify your base of knowledge, so you can establish the relative importance and value of events. I am a great believer that genius is 5% inspiration and 95% perspiration. And I am a great advocate of the study of history. Military officers, in particular, need to develop a keen sense of history. There is no profession where the lessons of history are more relevant than for those in the military profession.
Most military leaders have a high degree of stamina. They seem to be able to drive themselves as required to get the job done. I learned very early, particularly from combat and the prisoner-of- war experience, that there is a very close relationship between the psychological and the physiological. The relationship can be very synergistic, and it can be mutually degrading. I observed in the POW camps of Hanoi that those guys who did not want to get sick, who were determined not to give in, somehow did not. It was not because they had any greater physical attributes than anyone else. It was because they had the will and the strength, both spiritually and physically, to keep themselves going. A positive mental outlook is very important in developing the stamina and drive that one needs to do the important work that we in the military must do.
There are two other qualities of fine military leaders that I would rank at the top of the list. These are moral courage and patriotism.
Moral courage involves knowing right from wrong, doing what is right regardless of the consequences and maintaining standards even though at the time they may be unpopular. We must be true and honest; otherwise, lives can be lost, battles can be lost, and the security of the country can be put in jeopardy. I have never known a fine military leader who did not possess a high standard of ethics and personal integrity.
Finally, in our profession one simply cannot be an outstanding and effective leader without a high degree of patriotism based on a deep love of country and a strong belief in our way of life and our system of free, democratic government. In our calling, even in peacetime, we subject ourselves to great risks. We put our lives and careers on the line daily. In order to make that commitment, one has to believe in what one is doing and in the contribution that is being made to our country. Nothing sustained us as POWs any more than our very high degree of patriotism. Our overriding desire was to do nothing to bring dishonor to our country. That is why “Return With Honor” became our motto; we wanted to return under honorable conditions. Our love of country sustained us more than anything else through those difficult years.
I have often heard the saying that leaders are bom and not made. I disagree. Certainly individuals have inherent attributes that enhance their leadership potential. But if one engages in serious selfanalysis, measuring strengths and weaknesses, and strives to acquire or improve those qualities mentioned here, he or she will be well on the way to becoming an effective leader.
A 1951 U. S. Naval Academy graduate and having earned a master’s degree in international relations from George Washington University, Vice Admiral Lawrence is presently Deputy Chief of Naval Operations (Manpower, Personnel, and Training)/Chief of Naval Personnel. He has also studied at the National War College and served as Superintendent of the U. S. Naval Academy and as Commander of the Third Fleet. While as a commanding officer of a flight squadron, Admiral Lawrence was shot down over North Vietnam in 1967 and held as a POW for six years.
The Importance of Experience
hy Captain K. G. Schacht, U. S. Navy (Retired)
A midshipman once asked me, “Just how important did you find experience to be in helping you be a good leader?” I had completed 30 years service in the Navy, most of it within the submarine community, and was busily engaged in naval analysis work for industry. Looking over my naval career to answer this question, I had to say that I found practical experience, rather than a study of the theoretical, to be my premier teacher.
First Officer Assignment: My first duties as an ensign were on board the battleship USS New Mexico (BB-40). I quickly realized that it was equally if not more important to gain the respect of the enlisted men within my division as it was to gain the favor of my senior officers.
I did this in several ways. First, I had to learn the systems. Here it was the Number 4 turret which contained three 14-inch guns, their projectiles, powder containers, and the means for providing them. My boss, an excellent division officer, treated me with indifference until he finally realized that I could handle the powder supply system efficiently and that I could fill in for him at turret control. More important, the men, be they chief petty officers or seamen, were friendly, respectful, helpful, and appreciative. We worked as a team, not as a hierarchy.
Lesson Learned: Never forget that in any at-sea assignment success depends on your enlisted personnel who must be capable and willing to perform but will never effectively complete their work unless you, their senior, know your job.
Unique Junior Officer Task: Next, I was assigned to the engineering department with five other junior officers. The assignment was interesting, challenging, and beneficial. Although, theoretically,
my immediate supervisor was a division officer, I was really responsible to the assistant engineering officer.
My boss’s supervisory and administrative methods were simple. He trusted no one and would periodically check the actions of each subordinate under his command. If he discovered people who did not conform to his standards, they were discarded or transferred. Within my department, the military aspects of a job seemed to take a backseat to winning the Engineering E. I was to be “Fresh Water King,” seeing to it that our ship maximized conservation of fresh water. If successful, my boss promised that I would receive the finest fitness report possible.
Washers were placed in officers’ showers. Fifty dollars each month, the maximum amount allowed in those days for “open purchase,” was spent on spring-loaded faucets to replace the fresh water valves used by enlisted men. They had no showers but rather bathed from buckets. The laundry was rinsed in seawater, and we kept careful records of fresh water consumption with installed meters throughout the ship. My biggest worry was to avoid my friends’ suspicion for these conservation innovations.
The assistant engineering officer’s way of continuously checking on people and at unexpected times was beneficial and effective but was done at the cost of popularity. Actually, frequent checks on watch officers in the center engine room became of little value. We knew that we were expected to have memorized hourly pressure, temperature, and quantity readings and soon learned to clutch to our chests the several clipboards containing this information when we went to answer the phone in the steam-tight booth at 0200. While his methods were not admired, they were respected.
Lessons Learned: I learned how to handle and get along with a unique boss who could be demanding and difficult to work for at times. This meant learning my job thoroughly, being creative without being illegal or unsafe, being reliable, and asserting myself when I believed I was right.
Career Selection: While on temporary additional duty at the U. S. Naval Academy in the fall of 1937, the Naval Academy’s superintendent, a former member of the prestigious General Board which determined ship requirements, characteristics, and missions was asked what he thought were the best career paths to follow in the Navy. He replied, “Don’t go aviation. When you are 40, you’ll be too old to fly. We recently initiated the fleet submarine, designed specifically to escort the battle fleet, three knots submerged during daylight hours and 21 knots on the surface at night. A real future.” Well, as you know, the aviators saw plenty of action in World War II and were rewarded, and the fleet submarine was not employed as the admiral had predicted.
Lesson Learned: Never consider advice to be infallible, no matter how impressive the source.
World War II Torpedoes: We learned plenty in World War II, especially during the initial patrols of the war. You never know how you will perform in combat until you have gone through the experience: The same applies to materiel.
Our major weapon, the torpedo, was the most depressing surprise. In peacetime exercises, the extreme care taken in pre-firing preparation, the failure to conduct operational tests of exploder mechanisms, and the unrealistic stipulated postfiring exercise analysis all contributed to poor torpedo performance.
For example, a “sitting duck” daylight attack on a destroyer doing a “back- and-forth” patrol across a harbor entrance failed because the first torpedo commenced porpoising right after we fired it. The torpedo was immediately sighted, and the destroyer turned toward us at high speed, giving us hell for an hour.
In another instance, during a night surface attack a torpedo began porpoising and did a circular turn to the right. By the grace of God, it exploded just before reaching us. The explosion was close enough for several warhead fragments to penetrate our conning tower fairwater. Fortunately, no one was injured.
Lesson Learned: Do not place your complete faith in any system unproven under realistic conditions. Speak up when in doubt. Do it respectfully, but speak.
Alongside Flooding: Only a few days after taking command of my first ship, a fleet submarine stationed at Pearl Harbor, I was told after reporting on board one morning that we had had a flooding of the main motor room. Apparently, the day before, the man who had been working on the main motor cooling unit had left the system open at the end of the workday, having placed complete trust in the effectiveness of the sea-stop valve. Unfortunately, the valve leaked.
The duty officer should have detected this problem. But, as I discovered later, the previous commanding officer had granted permission for the duty officers to skip the crucial night inspection. Reason: post-war relaxation of some of the more rigorous requirements. Results: seawater flooding of motor room bilges with water entering the lower main motors’ casings. It took almost two weeks to repair damage to the main motors. Fortunately for the duty officer, an excellent man, subsequent formal investigation cleared him of wrongdoing because of a technicality in the hearings.
Lesson Learned: Never have 100% faith in the security of any system, and tactfully check that all required security precautions are being taken.
Test Procedures: In 1947, the submarine I commanded was converted to the first Guppy II (Greater Underwater Propulsion Power). It was the first to receive a snorkel capability and a high-speed capacity achieved by streamlining the outer hull and doubling battery power. After a hectic period in an East Coast shipyard, we finally put to sea for tests.
Underway, we rigged for dive and completed battery charge. Making our first shallow test dive, we descended slowly with everything going according to plan. Next, we were to perform a “depth control test.” The order read, “At flank speed change from periscope depth to test depth at 30 degree down angle.” This order seemed somewhat incomplete to me and called for some calculations. I had the submarine proceed at flank speed, brought to a 10° down angle, and then leveled off. Upon plotting depth versus time, I easily showed that with a 30° down angle we could not pull out before reaching and exceeding test depth. We completed the other tests and returned to port.
The next day I angrily searched for the man who had specified the tests. Apologetically, he explained that he was only carrying out routine procedures. I explained my plots and suggested that we “tilt the horizon” at flank speed by conducting a series of 5° down and 5° up, then 10° down and 10° up, and 15° down- and-up maneuvers to test Guppy II’s controls without hazard.
Lesson Learned: Never accept a specified operational requirement simply because it is formally written, especially when the writer is a desk-riding restricted engineer.
All Power Lost at Test Depth: Our submarine, while en route to Bermuda, was ordered by the division commander to conduct test dives. No procedures were specified. I took my Guppy II down slowly, leveling her off at 100-foot intervals and pumped out enough ballast to obtain a good trim. We reached test depth and suddenly lost all electric power: no Propulsion, no lights, and no internal communications! Armed with flashlights, we blew the main ballast tanks to maintain an acceptable angle while surfacing. We lay dead in the water upon reaching the surface.
We quickly found the problem. A stationary thermometer in a motor room seawater cooling system had been removed and was stupidly replaced with a plug of dissimilar metal which had decayed by electrolysis. The test-depth pressure was apparently sufficient to blow the plug, spraying a stream of water along the contour of the inner hull between frames, and into the back of the motor room instrument panel. As a result, all circuit breakers blew, and dozens of circuits were shorted. We restored power by washing the saltwater area with fresh water and by drying it with fans. We were able to obtain auxiliary electrical power early through the bypass of wiring leads from batteries.
Lesson Learned: Anything can fail. When doing the unusual or non-routine, proceed carefully, and be prepared for any casualty.
Satisfactory Brief Investigation: While a division commander, I was notified that one of my submarines had flooded the forward engine room during post-overhaul trials. I was ordered to conduct the required investigation along with one other officer.
The flooding had occurred during a check of the newly installed snorkel system. The head valve had failed to close as designed. And, as the snorkel head valve was under the seawater surface, sufficient water was drawn in to flood the engine room within seconds.
Unlike the much simpler German snorkel which operated on the same simple principle as the toilet flush valve (floating ball/lever), the U. S. design was a combination of electrical, mechanical, and hydraulic actions. Three spark plugs were mounted on the snorkel mast. Depending upon the position of the selection switch in the control room, the head valve was closed when one or more of the spark plugs was submerged by seawater. The switch had three choices: forward spark plug, port and starboard plugs, or all three.
Upon arriving on board, we immediately started a check on the switch/spark plug circuits. Within less than an hour, we found that the switch could be put in a fourth mode position, a blank or no circuit. Apparently, when the flooding occurred, the selector switch, instead of being in one of the three pre-designed positions, was in the fourth mode which cut off the circuit to close the head valve.
This was an obvious design error.
Within another hour, we had written a draft of our report and departed. No operator was found guilty of wrongdoing.
Lesson Learned: Do not trust the designer. Check out any possible errors prior to at-sea tests.
An Unsatisfactory Brief Investigation: Soon after taking command of Submarine Squadron 12, I received a copy of a one- man investigation pertaining to the collision of one of my submarines and a merchant ship in the Suez Canal. The submarine had just left a mooring at the Suez Canal’s bank and was under the “conn” of the pilot.
After spending a week reviewing the report, I concluded it was incomplete, too brief, and done too rapidly. The undamaged merchant ship remained under way, making it difficult to conduct interviews with her crew. I sent a ten-page criticism of the investigation to the NATO commander by whom the investigation had been directed, via my immediate senior, Commander Submarine Forces, Atlantic (ComSubLant). He forwarded my remarks without comment. Upon receipt of my critique, the NATO commander cancelled the letter of reprimand of my submarine’s commanding officer he had previously written.
When I asked the ComSubLant legal officer why there was no comment, he said, “Well, you certainly don’t expect a two-star admiral to disagree with a four- star admiral, do you?”
When I posed this same question to a legal officer from the NATO commander, the response was, “My admiral is always happy to receive evidence that prevents someone from being unduly punished.”
Lesson Learned: An investigation can be too brief and, thereby, unfair. You should never be timid about disagreement with seniors. Often it is not they who have spoken but a staff member with less experience than you.
Most of us learn much more from participation than from studying the theoretical. Unfortunately, it is wartime and at- sea experiences that teach the most. That is why we should learn from other’s experiences when we can—-even if it’s from a retired submarine captain.
Captain Schacht retired from the Navy in 1965 after serving for 30 years. His assignments have varied from an assistant varsity line football coach at Navy to commander of a submarine squadron. He was a POW for more than three years after the submarine he was serving in, the USS Perch (SS-176), was lost in the Java Sea in 1942. Since retirement, he has worked in naval research and development.