As a writer, I try to simplify, to summarize, to capture the essence of something in a phrase. I don’t always succeed, of course; I am too often wordy, loquacious, distracted and meandering. In my upcoming book, Change Leader? Who Me? I repeatedly describe the difference between management and leadership:
Managers:
Leaders:
It is a simplistic distinction. Management and leadership skills are often embodied in the same person. One of the ways leaders attract followers is to take an interest in their peoples’ development. Are they managing then or leading? Still, in the book I hammer this nail repeatedly.
On this Memorial Day weekend, I find myself thinking of the ultimate “abnormal circumstance,” war. This may be why the military talks more about leadership than management. When bullets fly, lives are saved by ”This way, follow me!”
A couple of weeks ago, I attended a military funeral for a Vietnam Veteran. I only met John a few times at Family weddings and funerals. He was the older brother of my sister-in-law. Funny how we don’t have a word for that.
In one of our early meetings, the fact came up that he was in the war of our generation and I wasn’t. I don’t remember how. I do remember we didn’t talk about it again. I probably said something like, “I was carrying signs in the streets, when you were in the jungle getting shot at.” It was the kind of thing I said to stop uncomfortable conversations about the Vietnam War.
I was a conscientious objector, at least I tried to be. When my CO application was turned down, I appealed, and then the lottery came along and my number was 294, and my appeal became moot. I always felt that was too convenient, but I quit my hospital orderly job and went on with my life.
I never wanted to talk about Vietnam after that. There were too many from my high school, and the blue collar neighborhood I grew up in who didn’t come home. I knew too many who served and came home drastically altered. The Vietnam War was also a subject upon which Americans, were then, and are still, divided.
Then I attended John’s funeral, at the Vietnam Veteran’s cemetery.
The rituals of a military funeral surfaced many of my long-buried Emotions. Round after round of rifle shots echoed off the surrounding hills. The lone bugler behind us played the haunting “Taps.” The uniformed soldiers folded the flag in triangles with the deep respect I was taught in Boy Scouts, and presented the folded flag to my sister-in-law.
My sister-in-law told a story of writing a poem for her brother, who was sixteen years older, when he was deployed. Her grade school teacher was so moved that he called the principal to share it and comfort her.
She also told a story, that most who knew John knew by heart. Early in John’s time in-country, as a sergeant, he lost a member of his platoon while on patrol. Vinnie was missing-in-action and never found. For the rest of his life John counted the number of “days since I lost Vinnie.”
At the cemetery and at the pub after, as happens at funerals, people told John stories. He treasured his family. He was active with the local Vietnam Veterans and always willing to help a brother. He was on the board of Education for decades.
Several spoke of how he remembered and memorialized Vinnie.
I used to “train” leaders. In a corporate change project, I would stand at the front of the room and facilitate discussions on empathy and service. Sometimes someone who had served in the military would give an example from their service. It always hushed the room.
There is a part of me that holds on to pacifism, to the belief that war and the death and destruction it causes is wrong, and should be avoided. Even if war allows leadership values to emerge in a few, the cost is too great. I hold on to the hope that this idea will be adopted by humanity. As John Lennon sang:
“You might say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one.”
Until that time, let us honor the Vinnies who served and lost and the Johns whose lives are forever lived in remembrance.
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