Life Lessons Part 2 - Courage, Friendship, Camraderie
By Mojo Rider
What follows is part two of life lessons and the shared experiences of Lt. Col. Guy Lofaro who gave this speech at the US Military Academy.
THE BURDEN OF COMMAND, COURAGE, FRIENDSHIP, CAMRADERIE
It's a few months later, and you are one of two soldiers left on a hot PZ (pick up zone) on some Caribbean island. There's been another foul up - not yours this time, but you're going to pay for it. It's you and your RTO (radio telephone operator), a nineteen-year-old surfer from Florida who can quote Shakespeare, because his Mom was a high school literature teacher, and who joined the Army because his Dad was a World War II Ranger. The last UH-60 has taken off on an air assault and someone is supposed to come back and get you guys.
But the fire is getting heavy, and you're not sure anything can get down there without getting shot up. You're taking fire from some heavily forested hills. At least two machineguns, maybe three, maybe more, and quite a few AKs, but you can't make out anything else. You and your RTO are in a hole, hunkered down as the bad guys are peppering your hole with small arms fire. Your RTO is trying to get some help - another bird to come get you, some artillery, some attack helicopters - anything. But there are other firefights happening elsewhere on this island involving much larger numbers. So as the cosmos unfold at that particular moment, in that particular place, you and that RTO are well down the order of merit list.
You feel a tug at your pants leg. Ketch, that's what you call him, Ketch tells you he got a "wait, out" when he asked for help. The radio is jammed with calls for fire and requests for support from other parts of the island.
"What we gonna do, sir?" he asks. And all of a sudden, you're learning another lesson. You're learning about the weightiness of command, because it's not just you in that hole, it's this kid you've spent every day with for the last five months. This kid you've come to love like a kid brother.
There is only one way out and that's through the bad guys. You see, you are on a peninsula that rises about 100 feet from the sea. The inland side is where the bad guys are. You figure you are safe in this hole, so long as they don't bring in any indirect fire stuff, but if they come down off those hills, onto the peninsula, then you're going to have to fight it out. And that's what you tell your RTO: We either get help or, if the bad guys come for us, we fight. He looks at you. You don't know how long. And he says only four words. Two sentences.
"Roger, sir. Let's rock." Appropriate coming from a surfer. Then he slithers back down to the bottom of the hole. Staying on the radio, your lifeline, trying to get some help. You are peering over the edge of the hole, careful not to make too big a target.
You're thinking about your wife and that little month-old baby you left a few days ago. It was two o'clock in the morning when you got the call: "Pack your gear and get in here." You kissed them both and told them to watch the news. Hell, you didn't know where you were going or why, but you were told to go, and you went.
Then all of a sudden it gets real loud, and things are flying all around and then there's a shadow that passes over you. You look up and find yourself staring at the bottom of a Blackhawk, about 15 feet over the deck, flying fast and low, and as it passes over your hole you see the door gunner dealing death and destruction on the bad guys in those hills. It sets down about 25 meters from your hole, as close as it can get.
You look up and see the crew chief kneeling inside, waving frantically to you, the door gunner still dealing with it, trying to keep the bad guys' heads down, who have now switched their fire to the bird, a much bigger, and better, target. You look at Ketch and then you're off - and you run 25 meters faster than 25 meters have ever been run since humans began to walk upright. And you dive through the open doors onto the floor of the Blackhawk. There are no seats in the bird since this is combat and we don't use them in the real deal.
And you are hugging your RTO, face-to-face, like a lover, and shouting at him "You OKAY? You OKAY? You OKAY?" But he doesn't tell you he's OKAY since he's yelling the same thing at you - "You OKAY? You OKAY? You OKAY?" And then the pilot pulls pitch and executes a violent and steep ascent out of there and had you not been holding on to the d-rings in the floor and the crew chief not been holding your legs, you might have fallen out. Then you're over the water, you're safe, and the bird levels out, and you roll over to your back and close your eyes - and you think you fall asleep.
But then you feel a hand on your blouse, and you open your eyes and see the crew chief kneeling over you with a headset in his hand. He wants you to put it on so you do. And the first thing you hear is, "I-Beamer, buddy boy. I Beamer."' You were in I-4 while a cadet, and that was your rallying cry. And you look up to where the pilots sit and you see a head sticking out from behind one of the seats. He's looking at you and it's his voice you hear, but you can't make out who it is because his visor is down. Then he lifts it, and you see the face of a man who was two years ahead of you in your company. He tells you that he knew you were there and he wasn't going to leave an I-Beamer like that. And you learn about courage, and camaraderie. And friendship that never dies!
As managers or people going into management positions, I think it's important to remember that sometimes you'll be faced with making decisions that impact people's lives. Don't make decisions without thinking things through. Most people aren't in those positions where it's a life-and-death decision that has to be made, but you might be faced with making the decision that affects someone's livelihood.
And perhaps in the private sector, team work dynamics are a lot different from that of the military and law enforcement. But it's the good people you meet along the way in your career or in life that becomes important---people don't go out of their way to help you if they see you as a selfish individual. You might not like every one you meet or work with, but I'd hope that if it gets down to crunch time and you have to go thru that door, they have your back as much as you have theirs when the shit hits the fan.
What follows is part two of life lessons and the shared experiences of Lt. Col. Guy Lofaro who gave this speech at the US Military Academy.
THE BURDEN OF COMMAND, COURAGE, FRIENDSHIP, CAMRADERIE
It's a few months later, and you are one of two soldiers left on a hot PZ (pick up zone) on some Caribbean island. There's been another foul up - not yours this time, but you're going to pay for it. It's you and your RTO (radio telephone operator), a nineteen-year-old surfer from Florida who can quote Shakespeare, because his Mom was a high school literature teacher, and who joined the Army because his Dad was a World War II Ranger. The last UH-60 has taken off on an air assault and someone is supposed to come back and get you guys.
But the fire is getting heavy, and you're not sure anything can get down there without getting shot up. You're taking fire from some heavily forested hills. At least two machineguns, maybe three, maybe more, and quite a few AKs, but you can't make out anything else. You and your RTO are in a hole, hunkered down as the bad guys are peppering your hole with small arms fire. Your RTO is trying to get some help - another bird to come get you, some artillery, some attack helicopters - anything. But there are other firefights happening elsewhere on this island involving much larger numbers. So as the cosmos unfold at that particular moment, in that particular place, you and that RTO are well down the order of merit list.
You feel a tug at your pants leg. Ketch, that's what you call him, Ketch tells you he got a "wait, out" when he asked for help. The radio is jammed with calls for fire and requests for support from other parts of the island.
"What we gonna do, sir?" he asks. And all of a sudden, you're learning another lesson. You're learning about the weightiness of command, because it's not just you in that hole, it's this kid you've spent every day with for the last five months. This kid you've come to love like a kid brother.
There is only one way out and that's through the bad guys. You see, you are on a peninsula that rises about 100 feet from the sea. The inland side is where the bad guys are. You figure you are safe in this hole, so long as they don't bring in any indirect fire stuff, but if they come down off those hills, onto the peninsula, then you're going to have to fight it out. And that's what you tell your RTO: We either get help or, if the bad guys come for us, we fight. He looks at you. You don't know how long. And he says only four words. Two sentences.
"Roger, sir. Let's rock." Appropriate coming from a surfer. Then he slithers back down to the bottom of the hole. Staying on the radio, your lifeline, trying to get some help. You are peering over the edge of the hole, careful not to make too big a target.
You're thinking about your wife and that little month-old baby you left a few days ago. It was two o'clock in the morning when you got the call: "Pack your gear and get in here." You kissed them both and told them to watch the news. Hell, you didn't know where you were going or why, but you were told to go, and you went.
Then all of a sudden it gets real loud, and things are flying all around and then there's a shadow that passes over you. You look up and find yourself staring at the bottom of a Blackhawk, about 15 feet over the deck, flying fast and low, and as it passes over your hole you see the door gunner dealing death and destruction on the bad guys in those hills. It sets down about 25 meters from your hole, as close as it can get.
You look up and see the crew chief kneeling inside, waving frantically to you, the door gunner still dealing with it, trying to keep the bad guys' heads down, who have now switched their fire to the bird, a much bigger, and better, target. You look at Ketch and then you're off - and you run 25 meters faster than 25 meters have ever been run since humans began to walk upright. And you dive through the open doors onto the floor of the Blackhawk. There are no seats in the bird since this is combat and we don't use them in the real deal.
And you are hugging your RTO, face-to-face, like a lover, and shouting at him "You OKAY? You OKAY? You OKAY?" But he doesn't tell you he's OKAY since he's yelling the same thing at you - "You OKAY? You OKAY? You OKAY?" And then the pilot pulls pitch and executes a violent and steep ascent out of there and had you not been holding on to the d-rings in the floor and the crew chief not been holding your legs, you might have fallen out. Then you're over the water, you're safe, and the bird levels out, and you roll over to your back and close your eyes - and you think you fall asleep.
But then you feel a hand on your blouse, and you open your eyes and see the crew chief kneeling over you with a headset in his hand. He wants you to put it on so you do. And the first thing you hear is, "I-Beamer, buddy boy. I Beamer."' You were in I-4 while a cadet, and that was your rallying cry. And you look up to where the pilots sit and you see a head sticking out from behind one of the seats. He's looking at you and it's his voice you hear, but you can't make out who it is because his visor is down. Then he lifts it, and you see the face of a man who was two years ahead of you in your company. He tells you that he knew you were there and he wasn't going to leave an I-Beamer like that. And you learn about courage, and camaraderie. And friendship that never dies!
As managers or people going into management positions, I think it's important to remember that sometimes you'll be faced with making decisions that impact people's lives. Don't make decisions without thinking things through. Most people aren't in those positions where it's a life-and-death decision that has to be made, but you might be faced with making the decision that affects someone's livelihood.
And perhaps in the private sector, team work dynamics are a lot different from that of the military and law enforcement. But it's the good people you meet along the way in your career or in life that becomes important---people don't go out of their way to help you if they see you as a selfish individual. You might not like every one you meet or work with, but I'd hope that if it gets down to crunch time and you have to go thru that door, they have your back as much as you have theirs when the shit hits the fan.
Comments
In the private sector, it just seems a little closer to reality show like Survivor or the Apprentice. You have ad hoc teams, but ultimately everyone is fighting for themselves.
It's just a generalization of course, but that's what I notice. Law enforcement seems to be a combination of the 2 extremes, since it is quasi or paramilitary in structure and organization.
I suspect you're correct in viewing that military and law enforcement tend to stress teamwork and group dynamics more than private industry. Part of our evaluation process is judging how good an applicant can work by him/herself and how well they get along with others.
I can't remember which company it was but I read an article about a well known company that turned the typical business organization model upside down. They worked in teams rather than have this top downs structure. For the life of me, I can't recall the company. It was all about team work to compete with other teams within the company.
But there's a real bond among those with a common mission/goal. Again, I suppose it's much different in the military and law enforcement because the ultimate price is sometimes paid for failure: injury or deaths.
Regardless, I think there some wisdom to be found in Lofaro's speech about friendship, camaraderie.