Beer, War, and a Leadership Lesson
It was 1990 and I was aboard a Vietnam era U.S. warship cruising at maximum speed toward the Straits of Malacca, from there we would cross the Arabian Sea, entering the Persian Gulf and America’s first major combat engagement since the fall of Saigon. I was about to learn a lesson in teaching, learning and leadership.
We’d been 45 days at sea, which according to United States Navy customs, is the threshold to opening the ship’s stores of beer. While I’d heard that officers had access to beer everyday in the Officers Wardroom, for enlisted Marines embarked on troop carrying assault ship, alcohol was obviously forbidden. I had recently been promoted to the rank of Sergeant and led a 60 mm mortar section of 14 men, who along with all the men of Kilo Company, and the 15th Marine Expeditionary Unit — Special Operations Capable (MEU-SOC), were looking forward to the day.
Any Marine who has been at sea will attest there is plenty to do in the daily life of being on a Navy ship. From physical training to cleaning weapons to attending training and classes, also standing in the line for the Mess Hall, cleaning the berth area, the head, and the various Marine controlled gangways, playing cards, reading, sitting around… As with everything in The Corps, the daily routine comes with responsibility and accountability, and unfortunately one of my men, Lance Corporal Hooper, had not adequately lived up to all of his responsibilities. I was in the position of needing to hold him accountable.
While Hooper was an excellent Marine in many ways, he was strong with a lot of endurance, he could carry a heavy pack a long ways, and he was from Texas — a good old boy in the best way. He was proficient with the gun too, he had been one of my squad leaders and responsible for all parts of the 60 mm mortar, a crew-served weapon with 4 attachable parts and the need for technical skill to bring the weapon into action.
At this point in my tour with the Weapons Platoon, I had known Hooper for about a year or so, and I knew through experience he was also inconsistent, slack and unprofessional at times, quick to temper or argue, and not exhibiting traits necessary for promotion to Corporal, which is the junior rank of the non-commissioned officers. Hooper had already lost his “starting position” as the gun team leader, and in the days before the at-sea beer party, Hooper had fallen into one of his slumps. According to certain metrics that had been previously established, he was on a path to not qualify to participate in the drinking.
I saw this coming. As his squad leader, Lcpl Hooper was my responsibility, his success meant the success of my team; and as a team we practice being successful in all things so we can have a better chance of being successful in the event of total chaos. I told him what to do to get things right, and worked closely with him to improve. He improved over a series of days but then on the morning of the 45th day, Hooper got into it with another Marine from a different platoon. There was a disagreement, they exchanged words, it escalated to a few punches and a wrestle. It was quickly broken up, but the clash was witnessed by several of the senior Sergeants. There can’t be a culture of fighting on a ship so long at sea, unless it is an organized fight, and as most thought Hooper was to blame, he was restricted to the berth area.
I took Hooper away from the hanger deck, and the soon to begin beer festival, and back to the berth area for the remainder of the afternoon. It was understood that I would give Hooper some bullshit work to do, then leave him and come back to the hanger bay for my two beers.
But that didn’t feel right to me.
Hooper was a good but imperfect Marine. Like all of us humans.
More importantly, Hooper had been working hard and making progress toward goals we had set together to help him get back into the position of being a gun team leader, and if he were to re-enlist, be on the right path to Corporal. Working with Hooper over the last year I began to experience that leadership is really teaching and learning, and it involves showing and explaining, correcting, practicing, and … failure.
As the USS New Orleans steamed toward the other side of the world, and as I watched Hooper get the bucket and swab for his punishment-task, my thinking crystalized that it’s ALWAYS two steps forward, and one step back. Progress is never linear, it always involves set-backs, new approaches, and more steps forward and then. . . the step back, and the process repeats.
But the most important part in this teaching and learning equation is the role of the teacher, the leader, to not give up on the learner, to see the potential in people to improve toward their best selves; and the critical role of the teacher/leader is to remain a positive force when the failure occurs, and encourage the student to rebound mentally, learn from the mistake, and try again.
I went back to the hangar deck, grabbed my two beers, and returned to Hooper and his swab. I cracked the beers, gave him one, and together we swabbed a good chunk of the ship that afternoon.
In the days that followed before we boarded the helo and lifted off the flight deck, Hooper worked harder than I had ever seen. He knew I believed in his full potential, and he was determined to be that man. It’s an expression related to fighting when someone says they have your back, and when we did roll out of that helo into the desert sands of Arabia,I knew he had mine.
