Noblesse Oblige

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without further thought, just as the nobk^s of Louis XVI’s court accepted thd^rS

the

chief petty officer who has sei

rved 2®

years in the service salutes a young

1 have often felt that the best possible preparation for serving in a position of leadership as an officer would be rigorous reading of swashbuckler novels. Al­though the tactics for battling pirate frig­ates may be a bit outdated, the morality plays about the concept of “noblesse oblige” are, perhaps, even more impor­tant now than ever before. The phrase translates as “obligations of nobility,” and refers to the code of conduct and du­ties attached to noble birth. Granted, commissions are no longer sold or inher­ited in this country, and officers come from the same backgrounds as those they lead. Yet all officers enjoy the privileges of a sort of nobility in military service. They are accorded marks of deference and enjoy higher pay, better living condi­tions afloat or ashore, superior dining facilities, lighter work, more flexibility, and more authority, simply by virtue of their commissions. An officer may not necessarily be better bred, smarter, or even more valuable to the organization than certain enlisted personnel, but he will still be served in the wardroom.

While the status of the commissioned officer corps as a military nobility is fairly well established by tradition and regulation, many fail to realize that the privileges associated with that status are given in anticipation that the officer will meet the obligations of his rank, rather than as a reward for services rendered. The problem is that in most areas of life, benefits are earned. From childhood through the Academy or Officer Candi­date School, rewards are given for per­formance or for enduring hardship. Upon commissioning, almost every officer

This salute is a sign of respect—not for the young officer’s accomplish­ments but for her future ability to honor the special trust and confi­dence she carries.

feels, “I earned this.”

In the field, though, that process of effort and reward is turned on its head. A newly reported ensign is accorded the privileges of commissioned rank long before he or she is able to contribute to the command, and is given authority over the petty officers and chief petty officers who must help him get his feet on the ground. However, many junior offi­cers still accept their better

They accept horseplay and pranks in wardroom that they would not tolerate ⁰ the messdeck. What they fail to realiz^e £ that rank is not a reward; it is a trust

en­sign not for what he may have acconf plished in the past, but for what he accomplish with the authority he has bee given. _t

Later promotions are given in ^trU every bit as much as the commissi⁰"' Unlike an enlisted advancement cert¹ an officer’s comrniss¹ says nothing of^re ward, but rather ‘ ^I®_[ poses special trt* and confident

in the patriotis¹”'

valor, fidelity abilities” of the nj dividual. It then ^c:l upon the offi^ce

72

Proceedings / September

It*¹⁰¹¹¹ it, an officer is an imposter. f_lc^ls important to remember that an of-

^er is not contracted by the service; he is ^aPart₀fj --          ^}

^ln return, is expected, without ques-

_2atio^to be steadfastly loyal to the organi- harrl r'^t0 ^'^{s sen}'^ors> and to his men. The ^vice *^{S t}*^{lat w}bii^e the good of the ser-

carefully and diligently [to] discharge ^e duties of the office to which ap- ■ ^lnted. ' While the duties of a given rat­_e ® ^Can be spelled out and listed, those ued by a commission cannot be so _c^ear|y defined. Yet the privileges ac- ^0r ed to all officers, from the most ju- _tj °^{r ens}ign to the Chief of Naval Opera- fa'tlvF ^3re ®'^ven 'ⁿ anticipation of the ties ^U' P^er^^ormance of those vague du­ly ^S. ,^^r- Samuel Johnson once remarked “an'^S k'°§^rapher, James Boswell, that _aⁿ officer is much more respected than _Th^{y ot}b^er man who has as little money.” sh ^{3t res}P^ecfi and the basis of our leader- ob'h' ^.'ⁿ^^{e u}P^on bow well we meet the Stations ₀f commissioned rank. _m⁰ hallmark of a capable officer is ore crucial than the highest sense of ^sion°^na* ^inte§^{rity anc}* honor. In a profes- He ^W^^ere *'^{ves are} often ^at stake, and „ ^{re me}n and women willingly make Po +* ^3nc* ^smaP sacrifices, trust is all-im- can ^3nt °ffi^{cer s} juniors and seniors _ev^accePt an honest mistake or bad luck, hem¹ 'f costly. That is a part of life. Yet _WlP^r- °nce lost, is difficult to restore.

_aricj ._ - it- He enjoys the prestige of rank

^tion. „

his seniors, and to his men. The

■ndiv' ^{m an} °ffi^{cer s} best interest, the ily fy ^dual’^s best interest is not necessar- p]_e °^r good of the service. For exam- _a ’ tnany consider a transfer “for the j_Usti^s °f the service” to be personal in­ti^ ^Cc rather than an honor. At transfer officers should ask not only “What ‘‘H °^e ^^est ^^{or my} career?” but also vi_c°^{W may} f best serve?” While the ser- tluf ^attemP^ts to reward crucial billets and g_a '.^es> ultimately the strength of the or- t_rav^Zatlon relies upon those willing to tha ^{C more r}’^s*^cy P^at^ duty ^ratber _tlleⁿ the safe road of personal advance- aid ^^ervice in the field is often more 5trea°^{US and m}°re dangerous, with l_ess^er opportunities for reprimand and tia ,^{0r reco}gnition than staff duty. Corn­er ^ls a double-edged sword, which He ^b°^{0St a career} to prominence, but r_es [^e. ^triishap by any crew member can D_e, .^{ln co}urt-martial or early retirement. Put ,1! . ^l^^at> ^our best officers continue to the ^he'^{r ca}r^ecrs on the line in return for le_a, challenges and responsibilities of vi_c^6rsa'P- This country’s military ser- cs would collapse if they did not.

Uiai ^^a*^{ty t0 t}*^{1e serv}'^ce also ^mean^s awning steadfast loyalty to superiors g_ar J ^ul|y supporting the command, re- ess of personal feelings or opinions.

Admiral John Jervis, Earl of St. Vincent, once remarked that “discipline begins in the wardroom. I dread not the seamen. It is the indiscreet conversations of the offi­cers and their presumptuous discussions of the orders they receive that produce all our ills.” There are many ways to ac­complish single objectives, and second- guessing, whether due to differing opin­ion, personal dislike, or ego, is ultimately self-serving at the expense of the organi­zation. True loyalty, though, is not blind obedience or obsequious agreement. If, on moral grounds, an officer cannot fully support his superior, a sense of honor requires that he resign his position.

Whatever an officer’s feelings, how­ever, he must have the courage to be hon­est, ensuring that the commander has accurate information on which to base decisions, regardless of personal conse­quences. Unfortunately, aspiration for higher rank often creates too strong a temptation to avoid the hazards of rock­ing the boat. Since the mythical days when beheading was the fate of bearers of bad news, military systems have had a difficult time dealing with bad news or criticism, no matter how valid. General Billy Mitchell tried desperately to awake an unreceptive country to the dawn of air power and, long before World War II vin­dicated his predictions, was court- martialed for his insubordination. It can take great personal courage to speak un­pleasant truths, to acknowledge weak­nesses, or to suggest a better way. Yet the fleet commander cannot make wise deci­sions or fulfill his duties without accurate information, no matter how uncomforta­ble that information may make him. Cer­tainly no enemy will be sensitive to this sort of embarrassment. The enemy will not rock the boat, he will sink it. An offi­cer at any level who, under the guise of being a “loyal soldier,” tells his com­mander what he wants to hear rather than what he needs to know, is being decid­edly disloyal. By putting career ambi­tions ahead of the commander’s need for truth, he betrays his commission. The commander who discourages his messen­gers, though, will ultimately suffer the fate he deserves.

The officer, too, who ignores the needs of his troops, will earn his just rewards. Xenophon, addressing the officers of the Greek army during the Peloponnesian war, instructed that "no one can be a good officer who does not undergo more than those he commands.” A crew can be made to work for anyone, but they cannot be made to serve and follow an officer faithfully whom they do not trust; and they will not trust an officer who does not stand by them when bullets fly.

Xenophon further declared that “you are generals, you are officers and cap­tains. In peace time you got more pay and more respect than they did. Now, in war time, you ought to hold yourselves to be braver than the general mass of men.”

Courage is crucial in battle; without it, no officer will be respected or followed. Yet in those moments of extreme physical danger, courage, or the lack of it, is more a reaction than a decision. It is the con­scious, day-in and day-out courage that is often far more difficult and, over the span of a career, more significant. A young ensign is likely to be respected for stead­fastness and integrity in the daily leader­ship of his division long before he is re­spected for professional expertise. And the strength of habits and bonds of re­sponsibility built through daily courage can carry an officer through his trial by fire. It can take great courage to stand up and speak unpleasant truth to an admiral, or to accept responsibility for problems not your own fault. Strength of character is a deeper and more essential facet of an officer than is fearlessness.

No one can lead professionals without being one himself. The understanding and respect that accrue from professional expertise carry over, even into unrelated areas. Professionalism enables an officer to understand the commitment and pride of skilled petty officers, and to manage them effectively. More importantly, it gives an officer credibility. Every officer reporting on board, whether a boot ensign or newly assigned chief of staff, is given an initial grace period, in which he is expected to demonstrate quickly the dis­cipline, commitment, and study neces­sary to master the job.

Being an officer can mean a great deal. The money is good, the work often inter­esting and prestigious. People do what you tell them to, and you get better park­ing spots. In short, an officer is granted at commissioning the same perks and privi­leges most who enlist must work years to attain. Yet if much is given, much is also expected. The great honor of a commis­sion is matched only by the great obliga­tions that accompany it. Rank is a noble calling, with noble obligations. The in­tegrity of the Scarlet Pimpernel and the courage of Horatio Hornblower do not belong in yellowing pages of a musty book; they belong in the heart of every officer who would be worthy of the gold on his sleeves, imbedded along with the fighting traditions of John Paul Jones.

Lieutenant Black, currently assigned to law school at the College of William and Mary, has had two com­mand tours: the USCGC Cape Starr (WPB-95320) and the USCGC Aquidneck (WPB-1309).