Over the weekend, I came across a FaceBook posting of an old Army friend who was proudly announcing the launch of a new restaurant he had been planning for some years now. While overjoyed by his current success, I was reminded of when I first met him over twenty years ago, when I was the incoming Commander for Charlie Company and he was my company armorer (in charge of maintaining all the weapons and accompanying equipment for our 200+ man Infantry company). Our relationship got off to a bit of a bumpy start – providing a slightly longer than normal story for this week’s Inspirational quote and message:
Trusting you is my decision. Proving me right (or wrong) is your choice.
Some background: When a new company commander is selected to “assume command” of a military organization, about a week prior to the official transition of authority there are a series of preparatory actions that must first take place. Depending on the type of military occupational specialty (Infantry, Armor, Aviation, Field Artillery, etc.), the size and make-up of the company and all of its assigned equipment understandably varies. However, a commonality among these actions is the dreaded change of command inventory, where the organization conducts a full equipment layout – accounting for every weapon, vehicle, electronic, vehicle, and their seemingly endless accompaniment of assorted widgets and sub-components. This is done for a couple of important reasons. First, it provides the incoming commander an opportunity to perform a quality control check of everything in his or her company – its working status and state of repair. An ancillary benefit is that it also allows the new commander a chance to get to know his or her Soldiers by engaging them with questions about their assigned equipment and gaining a sense of the pride they have in both their position and personally assigned kit. However, the most important reason is that at the end of the full inventory, the new commander will be signing a personal hand receipt (usually accounting for potentially millions or at least hundreds of thousands of dollars-worth) that affirms that he or she has fully accounted for all of their assigned equipment.
It’s also important to highlight that these inventories are not simple events where your hand receipt might list one $5 million-dollar Bradley Fighting Vehicle with a particular serial number, and once you confirm the correct number you can check that item off as good-to-go. Nope, that would be entirely too easy. You have to understand that many of these “major end items” come with a thick encyclopedia of every single large and small thingamajig and doo-dad that is necessary for that item to function. This amounts to literally hundreds of sub-component pieces – each with an affixed dollar amount attached – that must be either accounted for (hands-on) or its absence must have already been highlighted for proper ordering and replacement. And, if there is not an accurate trail-of-custody paperwork for a missing piece of equipment, the person who had previously signed the hand receipt is held financially liable to the U.S. government (not to mention a subsequent negative evaluation mark on failing to maintain proper accountability of their assigned property).
Which brings us to our story: As I was progressing through different portions of Charlie Company, this particular day’s inventory emphasis was focused entirely on our Arms Room, where my Armorer (who we’ll call Sergeant H or SGT H) and his assistant armorer (who we’ll call Private A or PVT A) had laid out all of the company’s weapons and accompanying tools and support equipment. After spending the morning completion of a sub-set of one of our larger weapon systems, we decided to break for lunch. But as I started to leave the Arm Room, I overheard PVT A ask SGT H if he should take some of the “borrowed equipment” back to Bravo Company.
Now hopefully you just had the same reaction I did when you read that last sentence: Borrowed equipment from Bravo Company? Are you kidding me? I stopped in my tracks, did an abrupt about face, and stuck my head back into the Arms Room to see a look of absolute terror etched on SGT H’s face. PVT A looked back and forth between us and knew immediately that he had let the cat out of the bag. There was a myriad of emotions raging through me as I locked eyes onto those of my Armorer. After what seemed like a good minute of an intense stare down, SGT H attempted to break the tension by opening his mouth. I don’t know if he intended an apology or some kind of rationalization for what PVT A had just said because I never gave him the chance. I simply held out my hand for silence and then in a voice as calm as I could muster, simply said “We’ll discuss this in my office immediately after lunch” and walked out of the company area.
I think in our heart of hearts, most of us are willing to trust one another. Although past negative experiences may have created some initial wariness and skepticism (a once-bitten, twice-shy type of approach), we all tend to have an innate desire to believe in the good intentions of other people. It is one of the foundational building blocks of creating strong, mutually beneficial relationships. I’d like to think that it’s not naïveté, but rather an optimistic vulnerability we have, to be willing to give even new acquaintances the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps those who approach trust with a more pessimistic attitude take comfort when some situations either confirm their cynical suspicions or they become pleasantly surprised when the circumstances turn out to be better than expected. Unfortunately, the rest of us are still stunned when a trust is broken, be it in its early fragile stages or unimaginably in more solid and tested relationships.
To forgive and forget is supposedly a virtue in many cultures. But does that maxim hold true for violations of trust too? I know that I want to believe in the spirit of this, but too often have found myself in leadership positions with incredibly high consequences for my decisions and actions. Trust in the people to my right and left is paramount, especially so in highly interdependent teams and organizations. Believing that everyone on the team will be doing the right thing, even when no one is watching is critical. It should therefore come as no surprise that in these complex and often chaotic environments, trust is the bedrock of teamwork, because there is typically no available time to second-guess or question teammate’s decisions and actions. That’s what makes breaking trust so egregious.
So, back to my Change-of-Command inventory story – now I certainly don’t want to over-dramatize an event that occurred more than twenty years ago. We were merely counting widgets and accounting for all of the numerous gizmos and doo-dads that accompanied the major end items within our company arms room. There were no lives on the line, nor would the world come crashing down upon us for this little deception of “borrowing” another company’s equipment for our lay out. If I hadn’t overheard PVT A’s question, I would have been none-the-wiser. But I did hear it… I know my armorer just wanted to make a good impression and believed that in the normal cycle of doing business, he would be able to procure the missing items without much fuss or fanfare. The problem was, that despite the seemingly insignificant ruse he attempted to perpetrate, this interaction was his first opportunity to establish the foundation for our emerging relationship.
After an extended lunch, which I had fully intended in order to make SGT H imagine and worry about the worse-case-scenario, I brought him into the office and asked for an explanation. Thankfully, SGT H didn’t attempt to provide a lengthy song and dance accounting of himself or try to rationalize his actions. He did say that he had wanted to make a good first impression and acknowledged that he cut some important corners by borrowing equipment instead of providing a transparent accounting for the missing items. But the most important, and perhaps his saving grace in this situation, was that he acknowledged the mistake, assumed responsibility for the error, and said he was prepared to take whatever punishment I deemed appropriate.
I’ve never been much of a yeller or screamer. It certainly didn’t come naturally and in my experience, didn’t do much to motivate or inspire. Sure, I still felt the anger and betrayal, but when he finished, I responded by stealing a tool from my father’s parenting toolkit. After a moment’s reflection, I simply shook my head and said I was disappointed in his decisions and actions. This was certainly not the level of competence and professionalism I expected of from a non-commissioned officer. What lessons was this event teaching the young and impressionable mind of PVT A? Although not spoken out loud, we both knew that SGT H’s behavior could have easily amounted to non-judicial punishment and disciplinary action that could have resulted in potential demotion and a serious ethical flag on his record, torpedoing immediate career progression opportunities. After some time to allow that to sink in, I shared that I was going to give him a second chance to make a first impression. I told SGT H that broken trust can only be built with renewed commitment and corrective action. Starting tomorrow and henceforth in what would become my two-year command of Charlie Company, there would be additional scrutiny on everything he did; that rebuilding our trust would take exponentially more effort than it should have originally required. And now that he knew where my expectations were set and what red-lines could not be crossed, there would be no third chances.
Like many of the stories I’ve shared with this blog, I’m not sure if the decisions I made in the moment were the right ones. I recall early mentors telling me that great organizations are the ones that do even the little things right, where details matter, and allowing mistakes or lapses in standard to go unchallenged and uncorrected was indeed allowing a new (lower) standard to be established and accepted. But I also know that some decisions are bigger than others – some that can be considered “one-way choices.” In other words, once they’re made, there are no U-turns, turning back, or re-do’s.
I know that I could have rightfully and sanctimoniously crushed SGT H that fateful day. That decision would have left absolutely no doubt in rest of the 200+ man company where I stood and what I expected, especially when it came to issues of integrity (which has always been my #1 driving value). But I didn’t… instead I attempted to reframe that event as a personal and collective challenge to SGT H and the rest of the company respectively - not to create better first impressions, but rather to reach and aspire towards becoming better versions of ourselves. I shared my expectations, communicated my absolute red-lines, and promised that once I took command, I would always strive to balance being hard (relentlessly pushing us to get better) with being fair (impartial and consistent). From a personal standpoint, I challenged myself not to fall victim to mental anchoring where I’ve often allowed my first exposure to something constrain my ability to allow new information to change or evolve a particular mental model I held.
I’m sure many of us have done things that we’ve regretted. Be it something we said or did, that we immediately wished we had the ability to hit a five-second rewind button. I know I’ve done it more times than I care to remember. But I’ve also had my fair share of second chances too – opportunities to make up for a momentary lapse in judgment that provided a renewed emphasis in proving my worth. Maybe that decision when determining SGT H’s fate represented a deposit in my karma bank. Perhaps time will tell. But I do know that in the end, SGT H became one of my most trusted non-commissioned officers within the company. What actions can you take to build a culture that allows for repairing trust in your organization?
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