I had the opportunity to work with a lot of lieutenants during my military career.  Some of them were good, some not so good.  Most of them were trained in college ROTC programs, a lesser number were West Point grads, and the lowest number of them were enlisted to begin with and then went to OCS to get their commissions.   I won't go into how they earned their reputation for doing dumb stuff, I will say briefly that, in many cases,  it is earned. 

Every battalion has couple dozen lieutenants;  most are in positions as platoon leaders while others are staff officers.  Even the platoon leaders are flooded with "additional duties" such as Mess Officer, Supply Officer, Mail Officer, Training Officer, and so on.   Some use these additional duties to stay away from the nuts and bolts of platoon management, allowing the NCOs to run things and just showing up now and again so they could say things to their buddies like, " I was just down on the truck line..."  or  "I was talking to the maintenance guys..."  fostering the illusion that they are actually doing something. 

In every unit I was in, I always made an effort to get my lieutenants involved in platoon operations.  It wasn't always easy;  they have a natural tendency to hang together in mess halls and snack bars, and honestly, there were some that I wished would have hung out somewhere else - any where away from me.  When I became senior enough to have some input into the lives of the units' lieutenants (LTs), I pushed to have them spend as much time as possible learning from their NCOs and being around their soldiers. 

A few of them still stand out in my memories, for one reason or another.  It was hard to keep in mind that while they were highly educated and thoroughly trained, they were basically still just young men...very young men and very inexperienced.   And they were pretty much in competition with each other for performance recognition, etc.  They could be merciless with one another as illustrated by a staff meeting that was not going well for one of the companies.   All the companies in the battalion were represented by their commanders, first sergeants, and various other officers.  The commanders and first sergeants usually sat at the conference table with the battalion commander and command sergeant major and the other officers and NCOs would sit around the room against the wall behind their respective commanders.  At this meeting one of the companies had not completed an assignment for whatever reason and when the project officer from that company was asked for particulars on the delay, there was a "pregnant pause" as the LT tried to formulate an answer that would not get him skewered and roasted on a spit.  After a few seconds of awkward silence, the other LTs lined up against the wall became to hum the Final Jeopardy theme..."Dah dah dah...dah dah dah...dah dah dah dah ..."  Even the battalion commander cracked a smile.

A ringleader of that episode was one of my platoon leaders...we'll call him LT Z.  He was always finding ways to crack me up.  One morning he stuck his head in my door and said, "Did you see them?  Did they come this way?  How many were there?  Where were they going?  I must find them...I am their leader!"

Shortly after the Cease-Fire  stopped all combat action in DESERT STORM, convoy operations tapered off and we were getting ready to move out of Iraq back to Saudi.  For the firsgt time in weeks we were not on the road.  The drivers were getting some down time and their leaders were looking for ways to pass their time.   LT Z challenged LT R to a sit-up contest,(LT Z was not particularly athletic-looking, not in any traditional sense.  But LT R, one of the other platoon leaders, was a buff-looking, athletic young man) everyone bet on R.  The two LTs started off together but R soon had a significant lead.  But after two hundred, R started to slow down.  Z kept a steady pace.  At just shy of three hundred Z caught up to R.  At about three twenty, R was done.  Z kept grinding them out.  R quit, Z kept on.  Z finished at five hundred and fifteen.  Did I mention we were the 515th Trans Company?  Appearances can be deceiving.

Later, back in Germany.

My number two son bought a Trans Am and began the process of upgrading it.  He worked at the Robinson Barracks gas station and put almost everything into savings so when he got the car, it had no carpet or headliner, it was five different colors  (the predominant color being bare, rusty metal) and sported mismatched rims and tires.  The only plus was the 350 engine from a German Camaro, like the ones we used to make in the sixties, and the high-speed rear-end that was designed for autobahn travel.  He got it fixed up in a hurry.  He had one of the mechanics help him paint it with a bunch of coats of black enamel, bought some brushed aluminum wheels and big fat tires, new carpets and headliner and soon had a real masterpiece.  At the same time, he had become a local hero in the headbanger clubs around Ludwigsburg...complete with leather and studs and long, long, sandy-colored hair with a beard and mustache.  What has this to do with LT Z?  Just this:

One day after lunch I asked number two son to take me back to work.  He dropped me at the back door of the company and drove himself back to work.  About ten minutes later LT walked into my office with a look on his face that was almost ecstatic.  I asked him what had him so smitten.  He told me he had just had a deeply religious experience.  I asked for him to explain and he told me, "I just saw Jesus driving a black TransAm!"

After the Storm, the unit moved to Mannheim and for a while we had operations at both sites.  The trucks and platoons moved to Mannheim, taking the LTs with them and I didn't see much of them any more and soon I was gone back to the States.  I did hear from Z few years after I retired;  he had left the Army and was snow-boarding in Colorado, surfing in California, and getting ready to take a job in Virginia. 

Lieutenants, I am sure that everyone has a story about one, to do with maps or radios or inspections or...oh the beat goes on