Monday, February 05, 2018
Even Leaders Have To Learn
By: Donovan Baldwin
Even leaders have to learn.
In the army, an officer is a leader. A lieutenant is an officer...a very junior one, the first officer rank in the army A "butter bar", a 2nd Lieutenant, who wears a single gold bar to designate his rank, is the lowest of the low, among officers.
Enlisted men, not officers, love to tell stories about green 2LT's.
When I was beginning basic combat training, Fort Jackson, South Carolina, in 1967, I was assigned, one night, to buff an office floor.
There was a brand new 2LT still in the office, supervising us. I had never used a buffer before, and, despite his attempts to show me how to use it, I never quite got the hang of it.
By the time, after several attempts to demonstrate the technique of buffing a floor, he gave up in frustration, there was only a little bit left to do anyway, and he went ahead and did it....while I watched.
If he stayed in the army, and survived, as this was the Vietnam War era, and 2LT's did not have a good life expectancy, he may have wound up a General.
I hope he learned something that night.
I know I did.
If it has to be done and you won't or can't do it, maybe somebody else will. Husbands do this all the time.
I wonder if he learned that if you cannot teach, or encourage, or lead others to do something that needs to get done, you may end up doing it yourself.
Don't know if either of those lessons is valuable, but they are facts, and one of use learned something that night.
In the army, an officer is a leader. A lieutenant is an officer...a very junior one, the first officer rank in the army A "butter bar", a 2nd Lieutenant, who wears a single gold bar to designate his rank, is the lowest of the low, among officers.
Enlisted men, not officers, love to tell stories about green 2LT's.
When I was beginning basic combat training, Fort Jackson, South Carolina, in 1967, I was assigned, one night, to buff an office floor.
There was a brand new 2LT still in the office, supervising us. I had never used a buffer before, and, despite his attempts to show me how to use it, I never quite got the hang of it.
By the time, after several attempts to demonstrate the technique of buffing a floor, he gave up in frustration, there was only a little bit left to do anyway, and he went ahead and did it....while I watched.
If he stayed in the army, and survived, as this was the Vietnam War era, and 2LT's did not have a good life expectancy, he may have wound up a General.
I hope he learned something that night.
I know I did.
If it has to be done and you won't or can't do it, maybe somebody else will. Husbands do this all the time.
I wonder if he learned that if you cannot teach, or encourage, or lead others to do something that needs to get done, you may end up doing it yourself.
Don't know if either of those lessons is valuable, but they are facts, and one of use learned something that night.
Labels: army, basic training, donovan baldwin, Fort Jackson, lieutenant, South Carolina
Thursday, February 01, 2018
Hey Sarge! I Just Waxed That!
By: Donovan Baldwin
When I was at Fort Jackson, South Carolina, in 1966, for U. S. Army, Basic Combat Training, I was housed, with approximately 39 other men in old, two-story, wooden barracks.
The upstairs, and downstairs, was an open area, known as a squad bay, with rows of double-decker bunks down either side. The center floor, between the rows of bunks, was, I guess, 20 feet wide, maybe more, maybe less.
The important thing for this story is that it was waxed and buffed to a high gloss every day, and no "trainee" was allowed to walk on it.
Shortly after that was brought to our attention, Drill Sergeants walked in, in combat boots, down the middle of that glossy floor.
We waxed and buffed it.
They walked on it.
If we walked on it, we got in trouble...not just from them, but, from our fellow soldier...er...trainees, as Master Sergeant Alosio would remind us...not yet soldiers.
That simple, shared task, and seeming abuse, was one of the beginnings of teamwork...of brotherhood.
Years later, as a Sergeant, many years and lots of experience away from the young basic trainee, I, myself, was on the training staff at an army academy.
I walked into the barracks, down the middle of the squad bay, with students watching me, knowing that they were sighing, but, not really angry. They knew the drill.
I knew too, that after I left they would get out the wax and the buffer, and work together to fix what i had just messed up with my combat boots.
I smiled inside. That part of my job was done.
They knew what to do.
The upstairs, and downstairs, was an open area, known as a squad bay, with rows of double-decker bunks down either side. The center floor, between the rows of bunks, was, I guess, 20 feet wide, maybe more, maybe less.
The important thing for this story is that it was waxed and buffed to a high gloss every day, and no "trainee" was allowed to walk on it.
Shortly after that was brought to our attention, Drill Sergeants walked in, in combat boots, down the middle of that glossy floor.
We waxed and buffed it.
They walked on it.
If we walked on it, we got in trouble...not just from them, but, from our fellow soldier...er...trainees, as Master Sergeant Alosio would remind us...not yet soldiers.
That simple, shared task, and seeming abuse, was one of the beginnings of teamwork...of brotherhood.
Years later, as a Sergeant, many years and lots of experience away from the young basic trainee, I, myself, was on the training staff at an army academy.
I walked into the barracks, down the middle of the squad bay, with students watching me, knowing that they were sighing, but, not really angry. They knew the drill.
I knew too, that after I left they would get out the wax and the buffer, and work together to fix what i had just messed up with my combat boots.
I smiled inside. That part of my job was done.
They knew what to do.
Labels: basic training, donovan baldwin, drill sergeants, Fort Jackson, sergeant, South Carolina, training, U. S. Army
