Love: The “Software” in the Military’s Hardware

When we think of America’s armed forces, we usually imagine battle-hardened fighting men and women using sophisticated weaponry.  This is no touchy-feely picture.  It’s about rock-solid facts – calculations about brute force and how to apply it.  Yet, that misses the core of what makes a fighting force fit and formidable, and at the heart of that core is love.

We had a demonstration of that recently aboard the U.S.S. Theodore Roosevelt, a 5,000 person aircraft carrier in the Western Pacific.  After several attempts to gain support from his superiors, Captain Brett Crozier, emailed an unclassified letter on March 30th to several Navy personnel asking that most sailors be removed from his ship due to the coronavirus outbreak onboard:  “Removing the majority of personnel from a deployed U.S. nuclear aircraft carrier and isolating them for two weeks may seem like an extraordinary measure. . . . but it is the right thing to do.”

Admittedly, Crozier’s distribution of his letter was bypassing the chain of command.  It led almost immediately to its widespread publication.  Whether his action constituted grounds for removal would have been the subject of a naval inquiry, but that standard approach was bypassed when the Acting Secretary of the Navy, Thomas Modly, soon relieved him of command. 

Flying 8,000 miles to speak to the crew on April 6th, Modly criticized Crosier for being “naïve” and “stupid” in not realizing his request would become public.  Modly’s speech, which appalled many, then itself became public.  He apologized for some of his remarks, but the anger they generated forced him to resign the next day. 

Capt. Crozier was no “softie.”  A Naval Academy graduate, he’d had an illustrious career of increasing responsibility.  Yet, knowing the risk he was taking – perhaps counting on the fact that the letter’s wide distribution would bring pressure to bear - he went ahead.  “We are not at war,” his letter said. “Sailors do not need to die. If we do not act now, we are failing to properly take care of our most trusted asset our Sailors.”  His love for his crew was evident – as was theirs for him when they applauded and cheered him as he left the ship.

What the press did not widely report, in the uproar over Modly’s lecturing the crew, was something he said to its officers.  “And most importantly,” Modly said, “love the people you are ordered to lead.  Make sure they eat before you do, care about their families as much as your own, be invested in their success more than your own accomplishments, nurture their careers more than you pursue your own advancement, and value their lives to the point that you will always consider their safety in every single decision you make.” 

Modly and Crozier shared more than it at first appeared.  Indeed, Modly’s letter of apology to the crew hours after he departed the ship, acknowledged he had ignored his own advice: “The crew deserved a lot more empathy and a lot less lecturing—I lost sight of that at the time and I am deeply sorry . . . I had hoped to transmit a message of love, and duty, and mission, and courage in the face of adversity. . . I love the Navy and Marine Corps. I love our country, and I love you.” 

This passionate regard for our women and men in arms is a hallmark of great military leadership.  George C. Marshall, Army Chief of Staff during World War II, could be brusque, demanding, cool and reserved.  Yet he cared deeply for American’s soldiers.  During the war, he read a summary of soldiers’ complaints every day and often responded with a personal letter to several.  Once, he learned a request for extra blankets had not been filled.  Furious, he called in the quartermaster staff.  “I want the matter resolved now,” he said.  “We are going to take care of the troops first, last, and all the time.”     

Another Army Chief of Staff, Gen. Eric Shinseki, also understood this.  At his retirement ceremony on June 11, 2003, he sought to distinguish command from true leadership:

“ . . . command is about authority, about an appointment to position - - a set of orders granting title.  Effective leadership is different.  . . . It has to do with values internalized and the willingness to sacrifice or subordinate all other concerns - - advancement, personal well-being, safety - - for others. . . . You must love those you lead before you can be an effective leader. You can certainly command without that sense of commitment, but you cannot lead without it; and without leadership, command is a hollow experience - - a vacuum often filled with mistrust and arrogance.”

The Crozier-Modly episode offers a lesson that extends well beyond the military.  We are often taken back when leaders resort to four-letter words, but love is one four-letter word that the best leaders think about all the time.  

Photo Credit: U.S.S. Theodore Roosevelt, Courtesy of U.S. Navy