Completing the
The bullets were hitting a little closer and more frequently by now. They had started fairly randomly. At times I could almost divorce myself from the reality of the situation and appreciate the serenity the repetitive tapping of copper coated projectiles made on the trees and dirt surrounding me. But now they were close. Too close. As I lay down behind the small ridge protecting me from exquisite pain and certain death, I could see small explosions of sand off the top, as the bullets passed through the thinnest point of the barrier.
I had been periodically responding with my own barrage of fire. I didn’t have the courage to actually aim. That would require my head lifting farther above the embankment than my weapon. I simply lifted the device and squeezed off a few rounds here and there. I hoped for the best, but knew otherwise.
Now I was out of ammo. I heard voices coming closer and the bullets were most definitely well placed in path directly in front of me. I turned toward the soldier next to me. He was from another platoon, but had chosen to share my same fox hole with him. I asked for a magazine of ammo. He graciously reached into his ammo pouch and produced for me two 30 round magazines. He was about to hand those 60 lead tipped keys to my salvation over, when he had a realization. He stopped and apologized, that he couldn’t give them to me, because we were in different platoons and these bullets came out of a different budget…
The above is obviously an absurdity.
In combat, I believe most, if not all soldiers, understand the concept of completing the mission.
The hospital I worked
in at
You see, in addition to a mission, a hospital also has rules. These rules almost always come into conflict with the mission. A good soldier or employee would find a way to re-organize the rules to complete the mission. If the rules couldn’t be amended in time to complete a specific task, then they would at least be bent long enough to finish the task, and adjusted later. Justification for this would be “The Mission”
However the hospital’s system of checks and balances is more adept at identifying when rules are broken than when the mission is completed. The mission in a hospital is never completed. There will always be patients.
Rules are black and white. You can ring a bell, pull an alarm, cry for teacher, when an associate breaks a rule. You can point fingers and say, “he did it”.
Rule breaking can go down on your permanent record. Rule breaking can be the difference between 7% or 8% raise at the next annual review. No one can truly prove that you didn’t “complete the mission”, just weather you broke a few rules along the way.
Let me describe the actual scenario that instigated this writing.
It was late one evening, last August. The Family Practice Clinic had concluded for the day and the last of the staff were tying up loose ends and trying to get home. I was asked to admit a patient for a fellow doctor whose shift was over and needed relief. I was on call so it was my duty.
I asked the nursing staff for the standard admission form. “We’re out” was the reply. After a brief pause, and while bending over to assemble the remainder of her personal effects, the nurse added, “You can go over to the ER and get one yourself.”
Well, poor manners aside, my going was the most efficient plan. So I went to the ER and looked in the filling cabinet that officially housed the forms, only to find it empty.
So I inquired with the nurse in the ER if there were anymore forms. I told her that the cabinet was empty, but she checked it anyway. (Maybe she figured I hadn’t been taught the ARMY regulations on how to look in a cabinet)
She agreed that there were no forms and suggested that we check with the receptionist.
The receptionist then graciously strolled over to the same filing cabinet to verify that it was empty. (Who knows, maybe the ARMY regulations require that three personnel check before a filing cabinet can officially be declared empty)
Now our little entourage went to see the clerk. The clerk needed visual confirmation about the empty cabinet herself. Eventually, we all agreed that the cabinet was indeed empty, but you know how it is: four people could possibly look into an empty space and not see a stack of papers.
After we were all reasonable assured of our visual acuity, the clerk announced that she had the papers we needed and told me to look in the closet that was in front of her. I had to wait for her to move before I could open the closet. (You see…Her hand was right in front of the door knob and if I hand reached for it, before she moved, I might have pushed her hand against it, and that might have been a bad thing.)
There were the forms! Yeeeaaah! I grabbed a stack to place in the ER’s filing cabinet, and inquired if I could also take a few more for the ladies over at Family Practice. Sort of like how a young child would ask for an extra trick-or-treat handout for their older sibling.
“Nope” was the reply. (The whole “Sir” thing doesn’t exist with civilians)
Worse, now the clerk was on to me. Now she realized that I might not actually be seeing an ER patient! She asked…I though about lying, but didn’t. When I sheepishly admitted that the form I needed was for a Family Practice admission, she immediately snatched the forms from me and proclaimed that she was sorry, but “those forms come out of our budget, and Family Practice will have to get their own from supply.”
Never mind that at 1800 hrs supply was probably closed. I thought fast, and responded, “Well, could I at least photocopy one of them for the FP Clinic?” She approved, but made it very clear that I could not use the ER copy machine since that paper too came out of a different budget as well.
Make a long story short, I made my copies and all was well. I even made twenty for the FP nurses, though “thoughtfulness” seemed to be a lost theme by around there.
Do you think that I was just subject to some callous uncaring individuals? That maybe, if it had been a different staff, things would have gone differently. No. I don’t.
These were normal people, who had worked late, and wanted to go home. The mission had been lost somewhere between the no-shows, equipment failures, and double-booked appointments.
Furthermore, there are rules…Rules..Rules…Rules…
There are incentives for not breaking the rules. Fiscal year budgets that mean extra of some items, when others are more frugal. There are chiefs who badger the employees to limit expenditures. Giving away limited supplies to another department would show up on a boss’s radar screen as an unnecessary loss, well before it was ever deemed a heroic gesture.
The ARMY appears to me, to be plagued with this by-the-book attitude. I also see however, that it could not operate any other way. And here is why:
If you were to divide soldiers into three groups they would be: those that cannot understand anything but a direct order to do a specific task, those that can be given a set of rules to apply their own decisions against, and then a final, small group that can be given the overall mission or intent, and then be allowed to run with it.
Ultimately we all like to think we fit in the last group, but we don’t. The bulk of soldiers cannot be just given a commander’s intent and set free. Very bad things would happen due to very loose (and self-serving) interpretations. Therefore, the initial intent is expanded and made more detailed as it goes down the chain of command.
The General or full Colonel has an idea or concept that he can safely share with his Brigade and Battalion commanders.
The Lt. Colonels, like my own, are of extremely high intelligence and can work within that frame-work of the intent, without feeling micro-managed or limited.
They however, must be wary that their subordinates may not be as intellectually savvy. They must add some constraints.
Now, my own battalion seems blessed with what appears to me (having worked for many years in Corporate America) an inordinate amount of extremely competent majors and captains. I think this many efficient personnel in one place is unusual. There are some key players in fact, that can think so far out of the box, they bring new meanings to the term “efficient” (like our previous S1…who I will talk about some in the future)
Yet then, the mission gets passed down again. This is where the problem arises. This next hand off requires careful constraints and micromanagement. Micromanagement by the NCO’s or the lower officer’s themselves. Everything must also be in writing, so that when they are disputed the issue can be referenced and resolved.
People who operate at this level do just fine as long as everything is well documented and field tested. Problems occur quickly when the regulations have gaps or lack rehearsal.
A worse situation occurs when individuals from the lowest echelon of understanding witness higher level ones operate. They cannot even comprehend how someone could execute a mission on intent alone. It bothers them.
I am finding this out very rapidly.
Just like the clerk couldn’t fathom that giving me paper to make copies ultimately helped the patient, (Which is the overall mission of the hospital) a few of my medical platoon members fail to see how they play a part in winning the hearts and minds of the people here in Iraq. (Which is my own commander’s intent)
Ultimately the situation will resolve itself when my command puts in writing exactly how my platoon will provide support for this mission, and none of my platoon members need bother themselves with a general understanding of the intent.
I actually find myself liking the way that this system is set up, though I have a long learning curve ahead of me in getting used to it.
I won’t however, get too upset next time a clerk from another office won’t give me paper. I’ll simply go get an order from her commander to supply it.
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