“There I was, no shit… “
There’s an old adage that all good war stories begin with those five words. This story is no different. It begins on a summer day in 1989, in a maintenance shop on the far side of Fort Campbell, Kentucky, where I was busy combing through a deadline report when a line of warrant officers filed by the shop counter, bound for the exit.
“Where are you guys headed?” I asked.
“WOLT,” the CW4 leading the group responded, moving on by as if this was an everyday occurrence.
As they passed through the exit and down the stairs into the hot morning sun, I looked over to my maintenance control sergeant, a newly-promoted master sergeant who until recently had been my platoon sergeant.
“WOLT?” I asked. “What the hell is ‘WOLT’?”
“Warrant Officer Lunch Time,” he replied flatly.
“It’s only 1100,” I answered. “Isn't that a little early?”
“They're warrant officers, L-T, what do you expect?” Good point.
In the months that followed, I learned about WOLT – and its nefarious cousin, EWOLT (Early Warrant Officer Lunch Time) – as I matured into my job and grew closer to the maintenance technicians in my charge. Long before books like Coffee Lunch Coffee became popular and social media was the norm, WOLT and EWOLT were the networking tools of choice. During lengthy lunches of ice tea and jaeger schnitzel at the old Rod and Gun Club, we devised detailed maintenance plans, strategized with Logistics Assistance Representatives, and synchronized a steady flow of repair parts that secured readiness across much of the division. For a young lieutenant, however, the education extended beyond the “shop talk” that dominated our meals.
Irascible on the surface, underneath the gruff exterior was a seasoned mentor with a lifetime of lessons to impart on those willing to listen.
The most senior of the warrants was a decorated Vietnam veteran at the twilight of a distinguished career. Chuck Hunley was old enough to be my father, and wise enough to deftly mold a young officer in his formative years. A man who could master any job on the shop floor with a rubber sledge hammer and 18” Crescent wrench, Chief Hunley was the stereotypical “crusty old warrant.” Irascible on the surface, underneath the gruff exterior was a seasoned mentor with a lifetime of lessons to impart on those willing to listen. Where others would ignore an old Soldier whose best years were behind him, I listened. Closely.
Chief Hunley spoke slowly, with an unmistakable Tennessee drawl. He communicated with remarkable candor, and never spared others when sharing his opinion. Once, when an award recommendation I'd prepared was downgraded, he responded angrily: “Goddammit, awards are free. All they cost you is the time it takes to write them. Sometimes, that’s all these kids have. They don’t get no more pay, they don’t get no more time off. The least you can do is give ‘em an award.” That’s the kind of wisdom you carry with you for years.
He communicated with remarkable candor, and never spared others when sharing his opinion.
Long after the schnitzel was gone and the ice tea pitchers were dry, the real learning began. When Chief Hunley shared his thoughts, the words were powerful. What some might misconstrue as simple backwoods country logic was, in fact, deeply insightful. His words shaped my approach to leadership for the better part of three decades, and continues to define who I am and how I lead. Over the years, people would sometimes ask what influenced my leadership style the most. The answer was as simple as the first day I heard it for myself.
WOLT.
1. Sometimes, it’s better to beg forgiveness than ask permission. As a leader, risk is part of the job. If you want to wear the rank, be prepared to make the tough decisions and stand by them. If you get your ass chewed once in a while, that just comes with the territory.
2. A sharp axe is better than a bad back. Work smarter, not harder.
3. Be brief, be brilliant, be gone. The “3 Bs” every leader should embrace. Don't waste others’ time with long-winded diatribes. Say what you need to say, make your point, and move on.
4. Always stand up when somebody comes into the room. Good manners will do more for you than just about anything else. Be respectful of others. Don’t hesitate to use “sir” or “ma'am” when addressing others. Open the door for someone when their hands are full. Let your soldiers eat first. And always stand up when somebody comes into the room.
5. Nothin’ happens when nobody’s watchin’. Joe is always going to be Joe. If you assign a task, make sure you've got supervision in place to assess progress.
6. Never let ‘em hear you yell. Keep calm and carry on. If you have to raise your voice in anger to get people to follow you, you’re doin’ it wrong. If you find yourself doing it often, then your people aren't even listening to you. Don't let your emotions get in the way of leading.
7. Ain’t no pleasant way to get cow shit off the road. A bad situation won't resolve itself. When thing get really messy, you have to be ready to roll up your sleeves and get dirty.
8. It don't take a big man to carry a grudge. Always remember the Golden Rule. Treat others as you would like to be treated.
9. Some days you're the bug, some days you're the windshield. Things won't always turn out the way you intend. Don't waste your time obsessing when things don't work out in your favor. Learn from it and move on. (The corollary to this is “You're either part of the problem or part of the solution,” which suggests you have some degree of choice in whether to be the bug or the windshield. But you may also note that some people tend to be the bug more often than not. That’s a choice, too.)
10. Never let ‘em see you sweat. No matter how tough the situation, no matter how great the stress, keep your cool. Nothing breaks down cohesion like a leader unable to maintain grace under pressure. If you crack, they crack. Cinch up your man-panties and lead.
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