Although this blog (I hate that word) is called Lessons in Life and Leadership, I would never be so presumptuous as to think I was qualified to teach anyone about leadership. I continue to work at it after all these years and still struggle to get it right. So, these lessons are not instructions as much as they are musings about the mistakes I have made and the lessons I have learned. One of the greatest men I know is Harry Mitch Highfill who was my Commanding Officer on the mighty BELLEAU WOOD in the early 90's. I remember a day at sea when I was standing Officer of the Deck on the bridge. I had just done something stupid, and had heard about it from Captain (later Rear Admiral) Highfill. When he was finished yelling at me, I told him "Sir, I will never make the same mistake twice." Captain Highfill just looked at me as he sat in his Captain's Chair and said "Yeah, but Murdock, you make every single one." All I could do was nod in agreement and say "Yes sir, I do." So, although I have yet to make it through the complete list of leadership mistakes I continue to work on it and I have made a pretty good dent in it.
A couple of events that occurred early on in my career as an officer went a long way toward teaching me lessons in ownership, accountability and communication. The first was when I was Boilers Officer on the mighty BELLEAU WOOD. As the Boilers Officer I was responsible for 56 Boiler Technicians and two 600 pound Boilers that created the steam used to propel the ship through the water. When we were underway at least one of the Boilers was always online (usually both) so my guys were working shifts around the clock. I remember getting a call in the middle of the night from one of my fellow Division Officers, Eric Anderson, telling me about a problem in the Engineering plant that concerned a piece of equipment that I owned. At sea, sleep comes at a premium, so I listened (kind of) and then fell right back into my rack, returning to a deep sleep. At breakfast the next morning I sat down with Eric and our department head feeling refreshed from a good night's sleep, although still a little perturbed that my beauty sleep had been interrupted. Eric mentioned the call and I told him "Yeah, thanks for the call, but next time couldn't it wait until morning?" Whoops. My first mistake was saying that in front of my department head because he quickly brought out his flame thrower and reduced me to a pile of ashes. It's tough finishing your pancakes as a pile of ashes. The other mistake was not realizing that Eric was calling me because I was responsible for the equipment 24 hours a day, and if the capability of the ship was reduced because of the failure of my equipment then our mission could possibly be degraded. It was my responsibility to ensure that we had a clear path to success to get the equipment back up in a timely manner. What I should have done when Eric called was get in contact with my guys and ensure they were on it and had that clear path. Then, I should have called my department head and informed him so he could call his boss and so on and so forth. What a knucklehead.
The next lesson was on the mighty BUNKER HILL just about three years later. The ship was homeported in Yokosuka, Japan and we were taking advantage of a beautiful Saturday to get underway for a Family Cruise where we could bring family and friends to experience life underway for a few hours. I was fairly new to the ship and as the Fire Control Officer I was responsible for the Aegis Weapon System including the SPY-1 radar which was basically the heart and soul of the Combat Systems on the ship. If SPY doesn't work we really were a cruise ship instead of a cruiser. I brought Midori and her sister on the cruise with me and was waiting in line on the flight deck for a tasty burger that the guys were cooking up as part of a steel beach picnic. While I was in line one of my guys came by and informed me that the SPY was down (meaning broken). I told him thanks and continued to wait in line with my wife and sister in law. Cmon, this is a Family Day Cruise, we aren't even going to use that radar today. A few minutes later my department head came by and asked me what I knew about the radar being down. I was a little annoyed that he brought it up in front of my family, but, alright, I would humor him and tell him what I know. He scurried away, obviously agitated about the whole situation. But I wasn't going to let anything deter me from the great day I was enjoying with the family. However, they were not going to let me enjoy the day. A few minutes later, over the 1MC (the public address system) I heard them say "Lieutenant Murdock, your presence is requested in the pilot house." Now this was the proper way to make an announcement when you were asking an officer to go somewhere. Since I was just a few feet away from the food I figured I could get my food quickly and then jet up to the bridge (pilot house). Unfortunately a moment later the call came "Lieutenant Murdock, pilothouse." When I heard that announcement (which did not have the same respectful tone the first one did) I knew that my "family cruise" was about to change drastically and I quickly excused myself and headed toward the bridge. I wasn't quick enough. As I was working my way from the flight deck to the bridge, one more announcement came over the 1MC..."Murdock, bridge!" I recognized that voice, how nice for the Captain to personally beckon me. My fate was sealed as the announcements went from very respectful to practically threatening. The great thing about announcements like that over the 1MC is that every person on the ship hears them, so everyone knew that life as I knew it would soon cease to exist. Once I arrived in the pilothouse the Captain had a very pointed discussion with me about my responsibilities. The only thing that saved me from being a pile of ashes that could drift away with the sea breeze was the group of family and friends of the crew that were all on the bridge while I was talking to the Captain. He wasn't going to completely destroy me in front of so many civilians, although I could feel my skin melting from the heat of his gaze. For a moment I swear he was trying to reach into my chest with his eyes so he could rip my heart out right there. Lesson? Communicate. Don't be the senior guy with bad news. If you find out that there is a problem, again, establish a clear path to success and let your boss know what it is. Your responsibility to your people, to your chain of command and to the mission are not suspended just because you are on a Family Cruise or because it is in the middle of the night or even if you are sitting at home enjoying dinner with the family. The responsibility and accountability is always there and it is important that action is taken if the mission is going to be degraded in any way.
Yes, those stories are fairly similar so, perhaps I spoke too soon when I told Harry Mitch Highfill that I never make the same mistake twice...but at least I haven't made every single one twice...yet.
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