"........DURING THE DAYS OF 12-13 JUNE 1982, WHILE
PARTICIPATING AS PROJECT OFFICER FOR THE WARBIRDS 
AIRSHOW, HELD AT MIDWAY AIRPORT, CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, 
MANY CADETS AND SENIORS ALIKE SERVED SIDE BY SIDE. 
THEY ALL DID AN OUTSTANDING JOB.  TWO CADETS WERE 
ALWAYS HIGHLY VISABLE AND FILLING  THE BREACHES 
WHERE IT WAS NEEDED. THEY BROUGHT THE WORD TO 
PEOPLES LIPS "WHAT AN OUTSTANDING CADET".  
I WOULD  FOLLOW THESE TWO TO HELL AND BACK.
 IF AT ALL POSSIBLE I HEREBY REQUEST THAT 
THE TWO CADETS BE GIVEN AN HONORABLE MENTION. 
THE CIVIL AIR PATROL DID WELL WHEN THEY ACCEPTED 
THE APPLICATIONS FROM THESE TWO YOUNG MEN. THEY 
ARE:

  DAVID AND JOHN MORRIS OF THE WASHINGTON PARK SQUADRON.



AND A SPECIAL THANKS TO THE PERSONS WHO GUIDED THEM 
AND TAUGHT THEM SO WELL........."

LEE DINEEN
2LT, C.A.P.
PROJECT OFFICER
"WARBIRDS"

"Leaders share the hardship with their subordinates...."

During this same time at Ft McCoy, I had my own leadership challenges to deal with. Being new to the unit, I was an unknown to my subordinate leaders. I knew they would try to find my weaknesses and limitations.
One problem I was having was getting my troops fed. Army policy was to provide (whenever possible) a hot breakfast and hot dinner for soldiers. MRE's would be for lunch. Remember, this is in the field, not chow hall. Rations were for sustenance, not maintenance. IE, they were only enough to keep you going, not enough to maintain current body weight. This meant that even if everything went right, we were losing weight and we were hungry.

Being the platoon leader meant eating last, and for the first three days, this meant not eating (hot chow) at all. The NCO's were kind of amused by this. The issue was with battalion kitchens not having enough food for everyone due to an admin snafu (it was rectified after a few days). At the breakfast line, the 1SG handed me my MRE for lunch and commented with a wry smile, "How much weight you gonna lose, Sir?"

At this point (the third day), I had already consumed most of my "supplemental" rations (peanut butter, candy bars, beef jerky, etc) brought from home. Knowing the food supply problem, I would save my MRE for dinner. At least I could have ONE meal a day. This day, my platoon was slated to be last to eat, and lo and behold, the food ran out before even the enlisted were all fed. So, for breakfast, it was two slices of bread and coffee for the men of 1st Platoon; the NCO's were not amused by this. During the platoon's movement later that morning, one of the soldiers (an ATGM gunner: carrying his basic load AND an M47 Dragon ATGM system) was starting to hit the wall. At this point, I had the platoon stop and then ordered everyone to eat what they had. I then gave my own MRE to the platoon sergeant to give it's components to those who most needed the energy. He knew that I had not been eating much and this was not lost on him or the platoon's other NCO's. It was at that point, things started to change between me and my NCO's. They knew for sure I was there for them and put them first; I would go through everything they did and not duck out on the misery. From then on, they treated me as part of the team, not an outsider.....

Contrast this with the CO ("I'll be back; don't leave"); he had a jeep and a driver at his disposal. We would have informal chats with the CO's driver during chow time and found out that the CO had a cooler full of goodies and slept on a chaise lounge in his tent. Additionally, he would go back to brigade rear area to eat and shower almost daily. This filtered down through the ranks. This, and some other events that I will not elaborate upon, cemented the relationship between the unit's junior leadership and its enlisted ranks. From then on, the NCO's put their full confidence AND support of the junior officers within the company. We were no longer an unknown commodity to them. We proved worthy of their respect and earned their trust......

Leaders know when to delegate tasks......

Volk Field ANG Base, WI. July, 1983

It was my third Type 'A' summer encampment. I had received my Spaatz award earlier in the year and was again looking forward to encampment. This was my second run as a Squadron Commander. This year, I really wanted to have a squared away unit. The previous year, I had young flight leaders and did not have full confidence in them. This lack of confidence led me to do most of the work when it came to running the Squadron. I was constantly checking-up behind the flight leaders, not allowing myself to trust them to get the job done. I was over-extended and not getting effective results. This was reflected in our distant third place finish (out of six) at the end of encampment
.
The first thing I promised myself for encampment in 1983, was to change the way I worked with my subordinate officers. This year, I told them what I fully expected of them and let them know that their job was to meet that standard. I would support them with whatever I could to help them meet the standard, but it was up to them to get it done. Another wise thing I did was to fully utilize my XO and 1SG. The plan was to have the XO mentor the flight leaders and I would ensure that the 1SG was fully accountable for the NCO leadership. In the beginning I was not sure this would work, but my hard learned experience taught me there was no way I would run myself ragged like I did the previous year.

Let your subordinates know you care about them.....

It was also during my second stint as a Squadron Commander at encampment, that I made a big mistake that almost cost me dearly:

I did not connect with the cadets. Because I was delegating and trying to work through my subordinate leaders, the cadets only saw me as the big Colonel who was very demanding. I did not make them feel as if I was genuinely interested in their state of being, that I cared about them.

Although I had learned earlier that yelling and screaming at them was not the answer, I had yet to learn that there are other actions that still push them with using negative consequences. Many of the cadets coming to encampment were not accustomed to being held to a high standard. For a lot of these cadets, marching correctly, wearing the uniform properly, proper customs and courtesies (C&C), etc. was culture shock. Their weekly local units meeting were nothing like this.

It all came to a head at breakfast on the third day. The Encampment Commander pulled me aside and told me that I had "the highest number of casualties coming thru sick call." He told me that he wanted this to stop. He was not pleased and he told me he had thought about relieving me of command. The thing that stopped him was that although he did not like what was going on, the unit was showing good results during inspection. Hearing his thoughts on relieving me really took me by surprise. He then hit me with another bomb:

He told me that my cadets were scared to death of me.

Hearing that was really a shock. The last thing I wanted was a unit motivated by fear of its leadership. After some reflection on this, I realized that they just might be scared of me. For starters, although I had avoided the typical yelling and screaming usually done by the cadet staff, the manner in which I spoke to the cadets was less than what you would call 'warm and friendly'. I would speak in a firm and direct manner whilst looking each one directly in the eye. Adding to this was the "mystique of the Spaatz Cadet" factor. The final and probably the biggest reason for the fear factor, was that I was a big guy (6' 2", 200 lbs wayyyy back then) with a booming voice.

Reflecting deeper I realized I failed to do two things:

1) Explain to the cadets the reasoning behind the hard work and high standards (why we were going
about things in the manner that we were); and

2) Talk to them, not at them. By this I mean talk to them and show I was genuinely interested in how they were doing......

Honestly, the threat of being relieved (and the humiliation and embarrassment that comes with it) really was a wake up call to me. From that moment on, I would change, for the better. Starting with the very next time I was in front of the troops, I said 'good morning' and asked how they were doing. More importantly, I made it a point during chow to stop by their tables and chat with them for a second. At first, the cadets were kind of stand-offish because my 'new' behavior was unexpected and they probably thought I was coming to admonish them about something. However, by the time the end of the day came, they were cool with it and really glad to talk to me. I would not really say too much, I'd just ask how were they doing, were they getting enough to eat, was the food ok, etc. The results, however, were clear. At every formation, I'd ask how they were, and the response was booming. They appeared more relaxed and ready to go each day. There seemed a genuine sense of purpose and Esprit De Corps in the squadron. Cadets would tell me that cadets from other squadrons spoke of wanting to be with us. Later in the week, the Encampment CO came over to me and asked what I had done differently. He told me the number of cadets from my squadron going thru sick call had dropped below the normal average. I guess the cadets saw that I was a person, just like them, not someone to fear. I just wanted them to elevate themselves to a higher standard of being. They now knew that this came from hard work and it was not going to happen all by itself.

Don't get me wrong, I did not baby them or sugar coat reality, I just made an effort to communicate with them on a personal level. In the end, we fell just short of becoming Honor Squadron for the encampment. None the less, I was really proud of my guys. The last night of encampment was something I'll never forget:

After dinner, I instructed the XO to cut-up the guidon ribbon the squadron had received (for being #1 earlier in the week) and give a piece of it to each cadet. He said ok and that he'd take care of it.
Shortly before lights out, I walked into the barracks, and there stood all of the cadets, lined up at attention. Two cadets stepped forward to present me with the (still un-cut) ribbon.
They stated that I deserved it more than they did.

I was completely stunned.

I politely declined it. I told them that they earned it through their hard work, and therefore, they should have it. I again thanked them for thinking of me. I promptly left the barracks, found a quiet spot, and shed more then a few tears.......