I may have mentioned before that I used to be in the Army. I had a head- start in military life because I was raised in the Navy, a "Sea Bag Baby", and learned a lot of things growing up that served me well as a young soldier. My dad, the Chief, taught me to spit-shine shoes and roll my socks and underwear and things like that. I was standing Saturday morning inspections in my room by the age of seven and passing them by the age of ten. When I started basic training I was as shocked that my platoon mates didn't know a lot of that stuff as they were that they needed to.

The military is a pretty competitive world. Some folks are more obvious about it than others, but in their heart of hearts, they...we...all wanted to be the best at whatever we did. So it is with a reluctant but admiring heart that I recognize that there was a sergeant out there who was a better squad leader than I was. But he was. And the best part is that he worked for me. What made him so good was his absolute devotion to his soldiers and his unyielding standards that he set for them. When one of his troops couldn't make the grade, this squad leader would spend untold extra hours in personalized training to bring that troop up to snuff. Now up to this point you could be saying to yourself, "All squad leaders are like that". You should be right, but unfortunately not all of them are and few are to the level that Dave Presswood was. His love for his soldiers didn't fall into any touchy-feely-squishy category; I think most of his soldiers thought he hated them. But I never saw any sergeant who would fight so hard for his soldiers.

When I first came to that platoon, I had a short get-acquainted meeting with the soldiers. Then I kept the sergeants around to lay out a few ideas for them. Unlike many of my colleages, I never liked to jump into the middle of a new assignment with a lot of loud noise and threatening glares and stir things up with a big stick. I always felt it was better to watch the way things worked and gradually insert myself into the operation. Of course, I would make immediate corrections if something was in need of it, but that didn't happen often. Almost right away, the subject of waking the soldiers in the morning came up. They told me that they had a system where only one NCO would do morning wake-up and the rest would show up around six o'clock to supervise cleaning and such. I am sure they were anxious to see if I would join in or claim that it was squad leader business and opt out of participation. I shocked them a bit when I told them that I didn't intend to wake anyone up and I didn't expect them to, either. Some jaws hit the floor, some eyebrows passed hairlines. This was an age-old, time-honored, NCO basic responsibility. Echoes of "Drop your ***** and pick up your socks" and "Hit the floor, ladies" reverb through the halls of Army history...not wake up the troops? Who will wake them?

I explained that my opinion was that each troop should own an alarm clock and get himselve out of bed in the morning. I further explained that I expected squad leaders to train them all to do that. I pointed out that no one came around the houses to wake us up. Grown-ups get themselves up. Teach soldiers to be grown up. Heck, we were a truck company. We entrusted these very soldiers with the care and operation of one-hundred-thousand-dollar rigs with sometimes a million dollars- worth of cargo on a regular basis. Did we want that responsibility to be given to men who couldn't set an alarm clock? My standard was that a soldier be in the common areas by 0600 (that's 6:00 am for you civilians, for Marines that's when Mickey's big hand is on the twelve and his little hand is on the six); individual rooms should all be cleaned; each man shaved, showered and all the other "S's" accomplished; and everyone should be ready to participate in cleaning the common areas: halls, latrines, etc. If a soldier could set his alarm for 0555 and meet that requirement, fine by me. When asked how to train the soldiers, I opted out, claiming it to be squad leader business. They jumped on it and we had a great deal of success with it. There were a few soldiers who were slow to learn, but most of them responded to being treated like adults...well...like adults. I was most impressed with Presswood's method of instruction.

Shortly after I arrived, three new Privates were assigned to the platoon, fresh from drivers' school. I assigned them to Presswood's squad and he put all three in a room together. He told them what their platoon sergeant expected of them in regards to their morning duties; they all said they understood and would comply. The next morning they didn't... understand or comply. There was no yelling or name-calling, but the following morning at 0300 (yes that is 3:00 in the morning), Presswood was knocking on their barracks door. He roused them up and put them to work on a top-to-bottom GI party of their room. All the furniture was pulled out into the hall, the walls and floors were scrubbed, and the floor waxed and buffed. The latrine was polished, all fixtures gleaming; windows and sills and frames were scrubbed. Furniture was thoroughly scrubbed, polished, and replaced in the room. They had it all back together by 0545, at which time Presswood told them they had 15 minutes to be ready and in the hall. Again the next morning at 0300 he was back knocking on their door and they repeated the whole routine . And a third day. At some point during the third day, the most mature of the three new guys came to Presswood and told him that he thought that they were capable of getting themselves up; they had learned their lesson. Presswood smiled. He said that he would see them in the hallway at 0600 the next morning. And he did.

Many times after telling this story I get responses about how abusive and unfair Presswood was. That he was messing with them and had no right to harass them that way. But the way I see it is that three Privates learned to take responsibilty for themselves; they were treated with respect, were not berated or embarassed for their mistake, and were allowed to choose to comply with the platoon policy. They learned 1) the importance of being reliable and timely, 2) That their squad leader was willing to sacrifice his own time to ensure they were trained , 3) That they had some control in how their time was utilized, and 4) Life was easier if they were obedient and willing. There were more lessons in there, too. To me, the most important lesson was that they listened and responded when the squad leader spoke to them...on any subject. In most other walks of life, listening to your boss is a pretty selective thing. In our world, immediate, unquestioning response to orders can mean the difference between life and death. P-Woodie's soldiers got that part down pat.