Understanding War, Leadership and Motivation

I’ve been pondering numerous threads on leadership.  I have all sorts of questions and all sorts of opinions.

The biggest thought in my head has been lurking for some time now, likely a few years, though it’s only recently come up in identifiable terms.

Why in the world should I be so interested in the theories of war?  I am a “warrior” in my current profession, of course, dealing with combat in various forms sometimes on a daily basis.  Recently I’ve become more involved in the greater realm of forces and the movement or manipulation of large numbers of warriors.  This would appear to be a validation of my desire to know more about the philosophies and practice of war.  Especially if I am to be a leader in my profession, I should have a good understanding of strategy and tactics.  I can’t lead people in fighting if I can’t understand the rules and process of fighting.  Leadership in my profession has warfighting inherent in its makeup. 

Should I desire to pursue the course of improving my own and others’ abilities to fight?  Patriotism is an argument that is hard to turn aside.  I defend my country with my life and thoughts, and so should be willing to devote my time to improving those skills that make me proficient.  So long as I work as a combatant, I must be thinking like one.

But that brings up another question.  Should I be here in this capacity?  Do I want to support the mission with the devotion which that mission demands?  I am called to give my best for my country, but is this my best?  It’s a religious quandary, of course, as well as a matter of personal philosophy. 

Here’s what’s attractive about the military.  People here are in an environment where leadership, the concepts and practices, is refined and focused.  I think there are few environments in the world in which men may be led with the absolute failure or success management.  Here, men die or live by their leaders’ competency on all levels.  Should a logistics director fail in his duty, an up-armored transport will not exist to protect a tactical unit.  Should an administrative boss fail in his duty, a warrior may be too distracted by the course of his professional career to perform in a tactical role.  Should an executive strategist fail, the wrong force could be engaged in the wrong location and face disaster.  Leadership stretches from motivation to practicality, drill and routine to philosophy and forethought.  There are people out there to protect from the very hazards they face.

But how do I do this.  I have been the guy behind the trigger.  I have been the supervisor who sends out the guy behind the trigger.  I have been the director who determines what trigger, what group, who supervises and how the process itself flows.  I have written the process. 

All this argues that I should have a deep interest in the ideas of warfighting.  I am a better leader if I know the reasons for the decisions made at my level, above me and below me.  Knowing what motivates my boss as well as those who work for me definitely includes their ideas of war, so long as I am surrounded by warriors.  Knowing enough to guide with wisdom and make personal decisions that may ultimately affect many has validated my interest in the deep thoughts of warfare.

But I still have this lingering doubt in the back of my head.  The raw words are, “why am I involved, pending even deeper commitment even, in the practice of warfare?”

Why am I trying to make more effective destruction and fighting in consistently broadening areas?
Should I be here, sending my mind into games and plans for making war?

It must be incredibly stressful for those Big Military types who drive entire regions of warriors to their fate.  But that does not diminish my little role.  I’m doing the same thing, even if it’s on a smaller scale.  What is the value of my place and activity in this profession? 

It would not be enough to step away from my current field of expertise to that of, say, “career counselor,” mechanic, “religion specialist” or some other non-combatant role (though every one of these is actually a fighter as well, just not as a primary role).  In the Army and Marines, everyone is an infantryman or warrior first before they are a draftsman or photographer.  Being in the military means either shooting or making it so the shooter is able to shoot (and then be willing to pick up the gun when he falls, continuing his mission).

No joke.  Even if I’m currently not in a position where I’m facing the front lines, I could be at any time.  The Navy can send me “over there” any time they need.  The Navy will send me to the lines sometime in the next couple of years, in fact, because Individual Augmentee is now a routine assignment.  I have a very good chance of spending some quality time in some scary country with a rifle, a pistol, body armor and no sleep, waiting for the inevitable bomb or assault or whatever.

Not only that, but my next assignment is literally teaching tactics.  What am I to think of all this?  It’s my job and my responsibility to be a warrior.

But what good is it in the long run?  What “eternal” benefit is it to me to become a good military leader?  I don’t have any use for the medals and recognition I receive for excellence in this job.  The awards don’t help me get a better job when I retire.  The awards won’t make me a better person, much less a better warrior in the immediate sense.  A breast dripping with shiny jingles and colorful ribbons and junk is not going to do me any good at all.  (In fact, it’s an inconvenience and expense right now to keep those things up to date and in good repair along with all the other military gear I get to maintain).  Tradition is fine.  I won’t argue about that so long as I am a part of the organization.

But wreaking destruction is a singularly specialized occupation.  Retirement has two options.  I can leave all connection to the military when I retire, and forget all my abilities and knowledge in pursuit of a more peaceful and meaningful occupation.  Or I can join the multitudes of retired but still active mentors and supporters of the machine that is our military.  I’m reading books written by these incredibly intelligent men and women right now.  Some of them have never actually served in the military before, but have risen to amazing levels of influence in our nation’s policy-making, strategy and techniques. 

Should I remain in the field of military ministry, then my knowledge will not be put to waste and will continue to help the country protect its people and interests around the world.  But is that a worthy pursuit?

And here is the crux.  If the future of my work is not a worthy pursuit, is my current state a worthy pursuit?  Should I be here in this capacity?  Should I be devoted to warfare now if I should not be devoted to warfare later?

Here are the benefits of my work as it is now.  I am made stronger by challenge.  I am made wiser by dealing with larger groups and diversities of people.  I am made more flexible by the incredibly complicated environments found in the military.  These qualities are laudable and worth having even when not in the military.  But are they only attainable through the military?  And is it right to obtain these qualities through the means of excelling at being a warrior?

That’s my best attempt at the moment toward capturing the circles of thoughts in my head. 

Name:

Email:

Location:

URL:

Smileys

Remember my personal information

Notify me of follow-up comments?