Army of None

In early 2011 The Atlantic published an article (Why Our Best Officers are Leaving) that instigated an internet-wide discussion on officer retention in the US military. Tim Kane, the author, now has a book out that explores the topic further. An article adapted from the book was recently published in Foreign Policy. In the article, Kane illustrates the Army's retention troubles by telling the story of LTC Richard Hewitt--a rising star who surprised everyone by declining battalion command and retiring.

Dick Hewitt was the head of Econ when I was a cadet. I can’t remember if I was in one or two of his classes but I liked him and considered him a mentor. I have vivid memories of LTC Hewitt's class and of specific discussions we had about the Iraq war during the invasion (the course was personal finance).

A few years after graduation I emailed Dick's USMA account to ask for advice. I don’t remember the topic but the point is I emailed him. I never got a reply, which kind of upset me, but haven’t thought much of it since. Now that I know his story (according to Kane) I am stunned.

When I was his student, I think someone mentioned that LTC Hewitt was a rising star in his former life. But people say that all the time. I had no understanding of the situation Dick was in when he was the head of Econ. If I had known the story it probably wouldn’t have mattered. As a cadet I had no concept of the personnel system in the “real Army”.

Now that I have 10 years of experience and perspective, I am stunned by the similarity of our experience (except for the whole rising-star, future-general-officer part).

The transition from cadet to 2LT was, for me, traumatic. Having spent 4 years at a military academy and 18 years in an Army family, I thought I knew exactly what the Army was going to be like. I was disheartened to find out that a lot of my time was spent on bureaucratic activities. And eventually my heart actually broke when I realized the insignificance of my role.

I was one of the naive few who actually believed I would be saving the world when I joined the Army—not as a superhero, but as someone who contributes to a noble cause and makes a difference in the world. Sure, on a micro scale my military service was probably a net positive for the Army. At a minimum someone else would have had to do my job if I hadn't been there. But the same could be said for everyone who commits to a job. 

That wasn't enough for me. I wanted to contribute on a much larger scale. Clarity came with the realization that that wasn't going to happen. The Army is enormous--a giant, greater than the sum of its parts. To support and defend the Constitution is a grand endeavor on a grand scale. As long as that end is achieved, the careers and lives of the individuals who are a part of the achievement are irrelevant. There are no individuals. Everyone is redundant. They have to be, otherwise the system is unsustainable. It is by design. But it is also why retention is a problem.

All of this should have been obvious to me from the start but I guess I had to experience it to truly understand it.

Once I knew that I had chosen the wrong career it was a waiting game. Like many others, I counted the days until my service commitment was up so that I could get on with living. I had a lot of catching up to do if I was going to save the world. Maybe I could make a difference in the FBI or the CIA?

The Army approved my separation and I had one foot out the door when blind luck intervened. I was accepted by a special unit that I had applied to but was not nearly qualified for. I retracted my separation request and took the assignment. Besides my year as a small unit leader in combat, it was the most formative and rewarding time of my professional life. I liked going to work every day, I was surrounded by extraordinary people, I learned constantly, and I actually felt like we were making a macro difference.

Then my 3 year assignment came to an end and the Army said I had to go do something else. I didn't want to do anything else. I didn't care about promotion gates or career requirements. The Army didn't care that I didn't care. It had a Constitution to defend. So I dusted off the separation papers and left the Army.

I think it is clear that my story is a common one. Dick and I both found a niche. We discovered the rare win-win opportunity for us and for the Army. But we were playing the complex short game and the Army was playing the grand long game. The Army won.

I don't think it is a coincidence that Bleeding Talent and Tom Rick's The Generals are out at the same time. There has been discontent among the junior ranks as long as there have been junior ranks but the public discourse seems different now. Bestselling books, national press coverage, open debate between young idealists and senior leaders, social media, and blogs dedicated to disruptive military thinking, may all add up to a tipping point in military personnel management.