Good morning, Airman Smith," I said as I paid the young Sailor for a cup of Joe at the squadron geedunk. I was in a rush, as always, to get my qualifications signed off, preflight the airplane, finish my evals, or one of the myriad other things that kept me occupied as a junior officer in Patrol Squadron 11. Although I had seen Airman Smith around the squadron, frankly I hadn't given him a second thought. He was right out of boot camp-and well outside the sphere of interest of this young, self-absorbed lieutenant. That was 13 years ago, and I have no idea what became of him.
Now I regret not getting to know Airman Smith and, more important, not doing all I could to help him succeed. Airman Smith certainly didn't join the Navy to sell coffee. Would he have benefited from some personal attention to keep him engaged and motivated-and his eyes on the bigger prize? I believe so. As I reflect. I fear I did not appreciate how important it would be to personally motivate, mentor, and engage our newest Sailors. This revelation came into sharp focus for me because of a recent experience 1 had one blustery morning near Chicago.
"General Quarters, General Quarters. All hands man your battlestations." It was 0530. and it was cold. I was witnessing the penultimate event before graduation at the Great Lakes Recruit Training Command-Battlestations. This coming-of-age ceremony is a grueling 36-hour experience in which recruits are tested on the knowledge, teamwork, and determination they've learned over the previous seven weeks at bootcamp. The goal of becoming Sailors was just hours away, and the recruits could taste it. They were dirty, wet, tired, and ready for this all to end. Little did 1 know that it wasn't just the recruits who were getting an education.
By mid-morning, Battlestutions had ended. The company stood at parade rest, each recruit wearing a tattered, polyester ball cap stitched with yellow block letters spelling "RECRUIT." These young people hadn't yet earned the title of Sailor-but that was about to change. "Attention on Deck" was called as the Recruit Training Command's commanding officer entered the room. He spoke about how proud he was of these young Americans and how their contributions to the country mattered. He reminded them their training would not end that day and how they must continue to live the Navy's core values of Honor, Courage, and Commitment. Finally, he ordered his staff to make these recruits Sailors. In an extraordinarily simple yet highly symbolic act, the recruits exchanged their recruit hats for Navy caps. They no longer were individual recruits: they were Sailors-and Shipmates.
While I'm not particularly prone to emotion. I was a bit choked up-and I was not alone. Everyone in attendance knew we were witnessing an important, life-changing event in the lives of these Sailors. They each took a chance to be part of something bigger than themselves, to advance their lives, and contribute to society. At that moment, all things were possible. They emerged from their Great Lakes experience changed people-with the potential to be great Americans.
We've all seen the occasional Sailor who just doesn't seem happy or vested in the Navy. Now I wonder what happened since that emotional ceremony to create an attitude of apathy and cynicism. Did something happen in A school or perhaps while checking aboard the ship? Did someone communicate, verbally or through their actions, that the Navy's core values were propaganda or that the Sailor's contribution didn't really matter? Someone didn't care enough to take that Sailor under his or her wing and say, "You'll give up on yourself before I give up on you."
These young people are our most valuable assets-they are our reliefs, our future, and our legacy. "The first 72 hours of a Sailor's checking on board a command is absolutely critical. This experience will often determine how successful a Sailor will be in that command," said the Recruit Training Command's Command Master Chief Michael Tsikouris. "As leaders we are obligated to ensure that we continue the great work being done at Great Lakes. We must make a concerted effort in continuing to create an environment where these new Sailors feel valued. We all have a responsibility to ensure our newest Sailors have a clear understanding of their path to advancement, the responsibility, and duty that come with being Sailors. Mentoring these young men and women is the bread and butter of solid leadership-and our actions leaders speak as loudly as our words."
Many of us don't realize until later in life that our greatest and most lasting contributions are not individual accomplishments-they are how we affect others. I encourage you to go out of your way to find these new Sailors and take responsibility for their success. Make time to ensure that your command's sponsor program is world-class. To commanding officers, I suggest you send all your junior officers to Great Lakes to witness the making of our great Sailors. Finally, next time you are in the geedunk, spend the time to share that cup of coffee with Airman Smith.