My Share of the Task(26)
“Stay where you are until you can call me secure,” Graney said. “I’ll wait.” The company halted in place and could only proceed in to garrison when they had his permission, which would require them to successfully call him in a secure mode. He brushed off the company commander’s immediate entreaty to reconsider—it was Friday afternoon. We settled in to wait.
I figured I might have a long weekend of sitting in Graney’s jeep, but as we watched, the company scrambled like ants out of vehicles, moving radios, antennae, cables, and other equipment in an effort to collect enough working parts from the different vehicles to cobble together a working secure radio. In less than thirty minutes they did, calling in and receiving Graney’s permission to head in. I learned you get the standards you demand.
It seemed Graney was invariably right, and we soon became disciples operating with extraordinarily high standards under a thin veneer of humorous sarcasm. The battalion’s operating premise was that the best way to take care of soldiers was to build standards and processes into a routine until predictable things worked smoothly. That gave leaders the ability to focus on the unpredictable as needed.
It was also a great time for Annie and me. Our son Sam was born in October 1983, and in the evenings, Annie would load him on the back of her bicycle and ride the short distance to my office to bring me home. With Sam perched in the back, we’d walk the bike back across the parade field, talking about the day, satisfied with life.
* * *
In May 1984 my younger brother Pete graduated from West Point and after Infantry Basic and Ranger School, he came to Fort Stewart for his first assignment in early 1985. Since we were the only infantry battalion in the 1st Brigade, when he came to the brigade, he came to the 3/19th and “the brothers McChrystal” now served together. It was unusual but great.
I was now Tom Graney’s operations officer, responsible for training and operations across the battalion, and although still a captain, I was essentially the third-ranking officer in the six-hundred-man unit. Ignorant, unimpressed, or both, Second Lieutenant Pete McChrystal felt free to come over to our quarters for dinner and critique management of the unit’s training. It was valuable to get unadulterated feedback, particularly if it was negative, from a junior lieutenant. As I became more senior, I remembered how much rank could inhibit hearing the unvarnished truth.
In the summer of 1985 I was considered for early promotion to major and not selected. In the years immediately prior, selection rates for early or “below the zone” promotion to major had been extremely low, so I had little expectation of being chosen. But when the list was formally released and I saw the names of a significant number of my peers, many West Point classmates, I was disappointed.
In later years I came to view not being selected as the best thing that could have happened to me. From that time on, I always had a realistic, almost philosophical view of promotions—the same boards that picked me later “below the zone” were those that had passed me by earlier. That disappointment was an important dose of humility.
* * *
Also that summer, after three and a half years in the 24th Mechanized Division, I was due for reassignment. From a professional standpoint, although I’d originally intended Stewart as a short stop on my way to the Rangers, I’d witnessed an amazing time, the kind that comes perhaps once in a generation. By 1985, the 24th Mech was a remarkably better unit. Countless leaders had been strengthened in the crucible, and processes had been developed, refined, and refined again.
As an officer I’d grown immensely. Tom Graney’s leadership was like graduate school in management, and the different, fast-paced nature of mechanized warfare had given me a new perspective. Making decisions while bouncing across the desert at twenty-five miles per hour demanded a change from the slower, more deliberate mindset I’d formed as a light infantryman. I’d learned to appreciate speed. Leveraged thoughtfully, speed gave you advantages over your opponent. Speed in planning, decision making, executing, and learning became something I pursued for the rest of my career.