Which is more of a threat to your ship: fire or flooding? Which can make mooring to the pier more difficult: wind or current? Which are more of a threat to your ship: torpedoes or Exocet missiles? These are the types of questions often asked on prospective commanding officers’ qualification panel interviews. Many years ago—as commander of Destroyer Squadron 24—I chaired numerous such panels. Several serving commanding officers (COs) would join me in quizzing these young hopefuls. We asked a range of similar questions about things such as warfighting principles, readiness, fighting the ship, technical engineering scenarios, combat systems, tactical action officer decision-making, shiphandling, damage control, navigation, and weather. That said, it was the candidates’ philosophy of command, or lack thereof, that I found most interesting and important.
It was not that there was one good or right answer to most of the questions, except the technical ones. The point was to provide some thoughtfulness to the journey on which they were seeking to embark, beyond the rules of the road. One thing we noticed was that most of the candidates—mainly department heads and executive officers—had not determined their philosophy of command.
Over several tours as division officers, department heads, and executive officers (XOs), the prospective COs had been exposed to a variety of characters and COs, either serving under them or observing them on the waterfront. They had ample opportunity to pick the traits they most admired in developing their philosophy of command. But when we asked them what their philosophy was, most just stared back, unsure how to answer.
Many had not thought through who they were or how they would command their ship and the men and women who served in their crew. Would they be tyrannical (heaven forbid)? Would they be soft or meek and allow the XO to be the bad guy? Would they spend solid mentoring time with their wardroom or with the crew? Would they be fair and forgiving of mistakes? The answers did not matter. What did matter is that they had not thought about it. They could recite the rules of the road, detail the inner working of the engineering plant, memorize the tactical action officer threat matrix, cite the importance of planned maintenance. But how would they play the role of commanding officer if we gave them the green light for the next step in their evolution and progression to command?
The command board forced them to consider if, for instance, their leadership philosophy would embrace peaks and valleys, or would they prefer taking a steady strain. Did they believe it was a priority to get ready for inspections or would their daily routine obviate any need to get ready for an inspection, even if the steady strain led to a less-than-perfect overall grade but still met requirements?
To get at these issues, we asked questions such as:
You are in the midst of a 10-month overhaul. The ship has required extreme engineering propulsion work. The chief engineer has required the engineering department to put in longer and longer hours to be ready for a scheduled light-off exam. Finally, the snipes say they have had enough and walk off the ship and sit down as a group at the head of the pier. They claim conditions are unsafe and refuse to return. What are you going to do to regain their confidence and get them back to work?
Junior officers (JOs) tend to emulate the leaders they encounter. That could be good, or it could be bad. It is important for them to sort out the traits that would guide them in their command role. I cherished the mentors I had. They molded me as an ensign. They developed my instinct for the risks I might encounter off the coast of Vietnam, transiting the Strait of Malacca, entering Tokyo Bay when ferries were like bullets being hurled at you from either side, steaming in formation, and conducting a Williamson turn. During the interviews, we encouraged candidates to consider key leadership decisions:
You have an engineering evaluation scheduled in two weeks, but preparations are going slower than you would like. You have the choice of bringing in the operations and weapons departments to share the workload or inform your squadron commander that you will not be able to meet the scheduled evaluation date. What do you do?
We ask candidates for their insights on what they had learned from the several COs they had served under as division officer, department head, and XO, maybe even from a staff position on the waterfront. What did they take away from the character of those who were placed in positions of leadership? What had given them an idea what or who they would be when in command? A screamer or a soft touch? A micromanager or a hands-off leader?
JOs hopefully learn from their mistakes. If they do not, they will not qualify for their surface warfare officer (SWO) pin, and it is time to go home. Sometimes a CO needs to let them make mistakes if they are not critical. Other times the CO may need to step in if the officer does not self-correct. A CO must have the confidence that he or she can overcome the error if necessary.
As a CO, how would you cope with those under your command who do not live up to your expectations? Would you fire them or put them on a positive path that leads to their success. Firing is easy, leadership is harder, and mentoring is demanding. How does that fit with your philosophy of command?
When, as a CO, you retire for the evening, how much trust would you have in the officer of the deck (OOD) moving your ship through troubled waters? Or, if in troubled waters, maybe you would choose not to retire. To get at this type of issue, the board asked:
You have been below watching the movie in the wardroom. You walk out on the bridge and see a merchant ship passing 2,000 yards down your starboard side. You were not made aware of any contacts in the area. The OOD is your best, most reliable, most experienced OOD. Do you chide him for handling this surface contact on his own and not bothering to disturb you, or do you call the senior watch officer and have him relieved of his duties?
As a CO, would you provide the wherewithal for your officers and crew to accomplish their goals without your looking over their shoulders—what today we would call micromanagement?
I have always thought a great shiphandler is one who could allow a JO time to repair a bad helm order before stepping in. COs who are less sure of their ability often transform the conning officer into a megaphone who parrots the CO’s whispered rudder orders. Think about the many JOs who were assigned to take their ship alongside the replenishment ship for refueling, rearming, or restocking or tasked to take the ship to the pier or get underway with the CO whispering in their ear what to do before they had a chance to do it themselves. It is a gutsy call for a CO to lay back and give subordinates a chance, especially if the CO lacks confidence in his or her ability; but how else can JOs learn?
We asked them:
Your XO is the best you have ever seen—even better than you were as an XO—but he is overweight. Yet, he has successfully completed the physical readiness test and, in fact, did better than you did. Would you recommend him for command at sea with his promise that he will rectify his problem, or would you make him correct the problem first and later submit a supplemental fitness report?
We have all known leaders who were infamous for their harsh style. They often were placed in situations to fix a problem. Their reputation was over the top and everyone knew it, but often they were needed to reestablish an even keel for a ship and crew, even at the expense of morale or careers. Is that a philosophy to emulate, or did the chain of command consider the rigid leadership style necessary because they needed someone to crack the whip? We asked:
You are two weeks away from deployment. The XO informs you that several key members of your engineering department have been involved in a hazing incident. The victim required shipboard medical attention, but nothing too serious. To prosecute the individuals will decimate your engineering department. The chief engineer asks you to let it go this time and promises it will never happen again. Do you prosecute or let it go this time?
There are no right or wrong answers to many of these issues because history and time have shown different command philosophies can succeed. In Walter R. Borneman’s book, The Admirals, he points out the differences in command philosophy between then-Captains Chester Nimitz and Ernest King. Nimitz accomplished his goals by conveying “his expectations quietly yet firmly from top to bottom,” as opposed to King, whose “manner might have been to bark orders and intimidate with ultimatums.” Add to that “Spruance’s command style was diametrically opposed to Halsey’s.” It suggests different philosophies can succeed depending on who is using them.
Today, because of recent at-sea collision and grounding incidents, the Navy is putting a lot of emphasis on its CO qualification process, including command philosophy. On prospective CO panels, we inquired how the candidate’s philosophy might change if they were dealt a bad hand, a weak wardroom, a difficult schedule, a post-maintenance downturn in readiness and manning. One size does not fit all. COs need to be flexible and adjust to the situation and capable of renegotiating their style to what is needed in the moment.
Which brings us back to the first question. Which is more of a threat to your ship: fire or flooding? I am reminded that Commander Paul Xavier Rinn, CO of the USS Samuel B. Roberts (FFG-58), was faced with that question after his ship struck a mine in the Arabian Gulf. He realized he needed to stop fighting the fires because all the firefighting water was sinking the ship. He stopped fighting the fires and saved the ship. Every prospective CO would do well to emulate Captain Rinn’s ability to make a hard command decision based on his instinct and well-thought-out command philosophy.