We read every day about the new strategy, plans, and programs to build our defense. This image shows what will or will not permit the “new” plans and programs to succeed or fail. It is called a squad and has been the basis of our Infantry success since time immemorial.
The officer-noncommissioned officer (NCO) relationship is one of the Army’s many paradoxes that is fun to discuss and theorize. The Army deliberately pairs the two. Imagine a typical platoon’s leadership, with a brand-new platoon leader (second lieutenant) placed in charge of a seasoned platoon sergeant (usually a sergeant first class). Make no mistake, the platoon leader rates the platoon sergeant. As a captain, the company commander rates the first sergeant (1SG) who, once again, is typically more seasoned. Why is the individual with far greater experience placed in the subordinate position? The onus is on the NCO to provide reverse mentorship – and on the officer to learn from it.
In a 21st-century leadership environment that is dominated by technological advancements, communication between noncommissioned officers and their soldiers is easier today than it’s ever been. Compounding this ease of communication with the United States Army’s long-standing philosophy of standardization, today’s leadership environment has created quite the conundrum for the new era of NCOs. Though the Army’s workplaces are dominated by multiple levels of structure, it is essential for NCOs to understand that the key to effectively developing their Soldiers is individualized leadership.
Everyone has their own way of portraying their feelings, ideas, and problems. For some it’s art, for others music, or acting; for me it has become writing. In this profession especially, writing is the one of the best ways to convey information. It helps to communicate goals and expectations, whether it just be for us to read, or a broader audience.
Why do we write? As humans, we write to communicate information and ideas across time and space, when we cannot do so through oral means with physical presence. As Non-Commissioned Officers in the United States Military, we do so because we can no longer afford to do otherwise. Writing is now a part of all professional military education, starting at the Basic Leaders Course that all enlisted soldiers must go through to become NCOs.
Loud and colorful video imagery covered the screen in the Production Control office of our Kiowa Squadron. It was 2012 and we were conducting an after-action review of a downed aircraft recovery training event. In the middle of our exercise, in a simulated crashed aircraft, we had no way of talking to our TOC. Our QRF forces weren’t coming in over the radio. And the pilots providing overhead cover…nothing from them either. We couldn’t talk. Our recovery mission was a complete failure. In this moment – standing in our AAR – I realized it was because no one conducted pre-missions checks and services on our radios. As our Production Control Officer would say, “without comms, you are dead. End of story.”
Army doctrine is many things, but “it is not dogma to be applied blindly. It is adjusted to the circumstances of the operational environment.”1 Doctrine describes the role of a command sergeant major and tasks them to affect numerous areas of friction.
We often enter new positions or jobs with some pre-conceived notions In July of 2018, as I prepared to take over a basic combat training (BCT) company, I had a few expectations. I thought I would spend the majority of my time with a team of highly effective and well-trained non-commissioned officers who were charged to transform volunteer civilians into soldiers. This proved to be true. But I did not expect to be mentoring or managing junior officers. In an effort to increase the ratio of leaders-to-led in basic training, the Center for Initial Military Training is working to place a Lieutenant (Platoon Leader) in each basic training platoon. There are many constants and foundational tenants to developing junior officers across billets. But there are also nuances to being a platoon leader in a basic combat training company that requires a tailored approach.
It was a rare weekend when we weren’t in the field, preparing for the field, recovering from the field, or occupied with an upcoming deployment. If I wasn’t cursed with weekend duty, I either took advantage of Schofield Barracks’ proximity to Waikiki to partake in bottomless mai tais at the Outrigger Reef, or played hermit in my barracks room. Back then, I pecked away at my top of the line Gateway PC with a whopping 1 MB of RAM, 400 MB hard drive, and 33MHz processor, and a keyboard that clicked loudly with each key stroke. I was working on a novel, an activity that filled hundreds of lazy weekend hours, but my voice as a twenty-two-year-old novice now seems almost laughably naïve. Almost as laughable as all that computing power filling up an entire barracks desk, but I digress.
Clear your inbox! You read that correctly. Zero it out; make it disappear. “But how will we manage administrative requirements without an inbox?” More efficiently, that’s how. It is a fair question, though. It was the same question I asked our Brigade Deputy Commanding Officer (DCO) when he suggested it during an obstacle course PT/mentoring session. Getting rid of my inbox was the single most liberating experience I have had thus far in command. Here’s how you do it.
