by James Duncan
It’s Monday, and the scene is an all-too familiar one. After battalion formation, the Soldiers shuffle over to the truck line. After a few minutes recapping Sunday night football and griping about the cold from the morning’s run, the NCOs emerge from the maintenance bays with a stack of training manuals and 5988s in hand. Pretty soon thereafter, things are humming along to the same rhythm and cadence that have characterized “Motorpool Monday” since the dinosaurs themselves were squeezing into greasy coveralls.
The weekly routine is in full swing once again. One truck up, two trucks down. One leak fixed, two parts on back-order. The scene, a wry teeter-totter between pathetic frustration and comedic disarray, plays out again and again in every motorpool on every installation. Like Sisyphus’ fruitless plight against the mountain, we toil with seemingly marginal gains across the entire gamut of our profession’s tasks. At times, it can feel like we’re stuck in quicksand in our efforts to make truly substantive progress. Leaders see it, which means our Soldiers feel it.
How, then, do we give a sense of purpose to the unforgiving slog of today’s garrison Army?
A Shift In Perspective
When speaking with our Soldiers about how they perceive their day-to-day, I’m astounded by their acute, yet cynical self-awareness. Words and phrases like “sleepwalking” and “in a fog” are bandied about liberally while heads nod vigorously in agreement. Despite the constant reminders of Ukraine and Israel right at their fingertips, our Soldiers plainly acknowledge that many are simply “going through the motions”—the world’s volatility, and therefore our own increased readiness requirement, doesn’t factor into their motivations.
The external motivators for service have changed over time. Regardless, whether brought into the fold by the prospect of educational opportunities, financial gain, medical care, miscellaneous societal perks, patriotic calling, or some combination, the end state remains the same – these are our Soldiers. While initially this diversity in motivation led me to struggle to motivate my Soldiers, I later had an interaction with positive leadership that changed my perspective entirely.
As a new lieutenant, I had a series of negative experiences involving some of my Soldiers. My company commander let me vent to him. As I let out my feelings of frustration and self-doubt, my company commander listened with more patience and grace than any leader I had previously encountered. When he finally spoke, he chose to deliver a message predicated on forgiveness, redemption, and growth. Though his exact words have faded from my memory, it was his presence and the impact of the dialogue that resonated with me.
Looking back, there was no “flip of the light switch”; no sudden revelation. I showed up to work every day and simply absorbed the energy, knowledge, and philosophy of a man who was – and is – unmistakably committed to the betterment of his subordinates. Week after week, month after month, my exposure to excellence made me want to rise to his level. He carefully pushed me past my threshold knowing it would make me a more competent and confident leader. Before I knew it, a year had flown by, and I was no longer the same lieutenant who had nervously entered my commander’s office for my initial counseling. I finally understood the nature of our vocation in a way no institution can teach, and I knew precisely who to thank for opening my eyes.
Waking Up
Almost everybody I’ve met in the military seeks fulfillment, pride in oneself, a sense of belonging, and the means to provide for one’s family. Though our paths toward these goals are undeniably unique, every one of us is drawn to and finds immense solace in the care of an authentic leader. The moment someone enters our life and brings us closer to enlightenment through genuine altruism, the course of our journey changes forever. Little by little, these leaders give us a sense of clarity – a light that shines brightly on the intrinsic motivators that had lain dormant all along, unbeknownst to us. Reflect on and express gratitude toward the mentors who pulled you from your “fog” and placed you on a better path. Then, pay their actions forward to the next generation.
As Antoine Saint-Exupery once wrote, “If you want to build a ship, do not drum up the men to gather wood, divide the work and give orders. Instead, teach them to yearn for the vast and endless sea.” It is your job as a leader to “teach them to yearn”. The motorpool never was the ship or the sea, but it can be the teaching grounds.
In a world of immense uncertainty and strife, we may be called upon to fight once more. If we are to be ready for that day, we as leaders have an obligation to wake our Soldiers from their “sleepwalking” and allow them to see this profession in an entirely different light.
CPT James Duncan graduated from the United States Military Academy in 2017 and is currently serving as the commander of the 59th Military Police Company, 759th Military Police Battalion in Fort Carson, Colorado.
Photo by Jackson Hendry on Unsplash
