By Anne C. Woodlen
Anne is joining this Website as an occassional contributor.
She would love to hear your thoughts.

The platoon sergeant, a non-commissioned officer, is a wiry man with clear eyes and a calm demeanor. It is his duty to train the lieutenant, a commissioned officer who is a recent college graduate. The sergeant’s son is almost as old as the lieutenant, but a good bit smarter.

Everybody knows it is the sergeant’s job to train the lieutenant. Tradition and the commanding officer told the sergeant it was his job. Likewise, the C.O. told the lieutenant something like, “Go out there and let your platoon sergeant tell you how to do it.” Some children are smarter than others. The lieutenant didn’t get it.

The platoon was on annual recertification maneuvers. They had five missions to complete. The outcome of the missions would be a rating of green, amber or red. Green meant the platoon was combat-ready and could be deployed. Amber was deployable, but with problems that had to be corrected. Red was complete failure and a return to training.

In the field, the sergeant walked the line then returned to the lieutenant and said, “Okay, you need to walk the line. Tell Private Villante that his foxhole isn’t deep enough. When you get to Corporal Harkins, he’s got his markers placed wrong.” And so on and so on.

The lieutenant objected. “Why should I do this?” he asked.

“Because,” said the sergeant, “you need to establish yourself with the troops.”

The lieutenant replied, “I am an officer in the United States Army and I don’t have to establish myself with anybody.” The lieutenant has just qualified for a diagnosis of Stupid Child Syndrome, and it’s going to be a long war.

The sergeant continues to work with him, difficult as he is, but the lieutenant is resistant to learning. At one point the lieutenant is leading the platoon through rough terrain, not to mention dark woods. The sergeant has been an Army scout for twenty years. The lieutenant has been leading the platoon for two hours, and he’s getting the troops lost. The sergeant is still trying his genial best to get the lieutenant’s head out of his butt, but Stupid Child Syndrome is most irresolvable because it is embedded in the system. The system has empowered the child, usually because the child has an academic degree, and the system intends to validate itself. Therefore, a child in power will remain in power until acted upon, for example, by a clear-eyed sergeant.

When the sergeant gets a little more forceful in trying to redirect the lieutenant, not to mention the entire platoon, the lieutenant orders the sergeant to fall back to the rear. The platoon’s rear, not the lieutenant’s. The sergeant follows orders, and the platoon. From the rear, he enjoys a nice walk in the woods and keeps track of exactly where they are so that, in the event of a broken leg or some such thing, he can get his troops out quickly. So goes the rest of this mission, and the other four.

When the five missions are completed, the platoon receives an amber rating for the mission in which the sergeant laid out part of the plan, and four red ratings for the lieutenant’s work. The commanding officer calls the lieutenant in and asks what happened.

“My platoon sergeant screwed up,” is the essence of the lieutenant’s answer.

The C.O., having worked with the sergeant longer than the lieutenant, knows this isn’t true but, being obliged to do it by the book, calls the non-commissioned officer in and asks what happened.

“The lieutenant ordered me to the rear, sir, and I complied,” says the sergeant.

The N.C.O., the O. and the C.O. have a little chat. Finally, the C.O. says, “Sergeant, if you were in combat and this occurred, what would you do?”

The sergeant replies conversationally, “I’d shoot the lieutenant.”

This being the correct answer, but an unacceptable threat to a superior officer, the C.O. has to do something. He applies discipline with a Letter of Concern. A Letter of Concern is of such insignificance that it doesn’t even go in a soldier’s personnel jacket.

Afterwards, the lieutenant asks the sergeant, “Would you really shoot me?”

“I wouldn’t kill you, sir,” answers the sergeant, “just damage you enough to get you out of the field.”

A child in power will remain in power until acted upon, and a good leader always has a plan.