Leadership Material

When Brad turned and headed back to the cockpit, Wendy reached across the cabin and touched Patrick's arm in a quiet show of gratitude. But Patrick didn't feel much like accepting any congratulations.

'I want to go over the highlights of the Secretary's MOI with you before we get started,' Major General Larry Ingemanson, the president of the promotion board, said. He was addressing the entire group of board members just before they started their first day of deliberations. 'The

MOI defines the quotas set for each promotion category, but you as voting members aren't required to meet those quotas. We're looking for quality, not quantity. Keep that in mind. The only quotas we must fill for this board are for joint-service assignments, which are set by law, and the Secretariat will take care of that. The law also states that extra consideration be given to women and minorities. Bear in mind that your scores are not adjusted by the Secretariat if the candidate happens to be female or a member of a minority-no one can adjust your score but you. You are simply asked to be aware that these two groups have been unfairly treated in the past.

'You are also asked to keep in mind that since the start of hostilities in the southwest Asian theater, some candidates may not have had the opportunity to complete advanced degrees or professional military education courses. Eventually I believe this will become more and more of a concern as deployment tempos pick up, but so far the law has not been changed. You're just asked to keep this fact in mind: If a candidate hasn't completed PME or advanced degrees, check to see if he or she is serving in some specialty that requires frequent or short-notice deployments, and take that into consideration.'

General Ingemanson paused for a moment, closed his notes, and went on: 'Now, this isn't in the MOI-it's from your nonvoting board president. This is my first time presiding over a board but my fourth time here in the box, and I have some thoughts about what you are about to undertake:

'As you slug through all the three thousand-plus files over the next several days, you may get a little cross- eyed and slack-jawed. I will endeavor to remind you of this as the days go on, but I'll remind you now, of the extreme importance of what you're doing here: If you have ever thought about what it would be like to shape the future, this, my friends, is it.

'We find ourselves in a very special and unique position of responsibility,' Ingemanson went on solemnly. 'We are serving on the Air Force's first field grade officers' promotion board just days after the end of Operation Desert Storm, which many are calling the reawakening of America and the reunification of American society with its armed forces. We are seeing the beginning of a new era for the American military, especially for the U.S. Air Force. We are tasked with the awesome responsibility of choosing the men and women who will lead that new military into the future.'

Norman Weir rolled his eyes and snorted to himself. What drivel. it was a promotion board, for Christ's sake. Why did he have to try to attach some special, almost mystical significance to it? Maybe it was just the standard 'pep talk,' but it was proceeding beyond the sublime toward the ridiculous.

'I'm sure we've all heard the jokes about lieutenant colonels-the 'throwaway' officer, the ultimate wanna- bes,' Ingemanson went on. 'The ones that stand on the cusp of greatness or on the verge of obscurity. Well, let me tell you from the bottom of my soul: I believe they are the bedrock of the Air Force officer corps.

'I've commanded four squadrons, two wings, and one air division, and the O-5s were always the heart and soul of all of my units. They did the grunt work of a line crewdog but had as much responsibility as a wing commander. They pulled lines of alert, led missions and deployments, and then had to push paper to make the bosses happy. They had the most practical hands-on experience in the unit-they usually were the evaluators, chief instructors, and most certainly the mentors. They had to be the best of the best. Us headquarters weenies could get away with letting the staff handle details-the 0-5s pushing squadrons never got that break. They had to study and train just as hard as the newest nugget, but then they had to dress nice and look sharp and do the political face time. The ones that do all that are worth their weight in gold.' Norman didn't understand everything Ingemanson was talking about, and so he assumed he was talking flyer-speak. Naturally, Ingemanson himself was a command pilot and also wore paratrooper's wings, meaning he probably graduated from the Air Force Academy. It was going to be a challenge, Norman thought, to break the aviator's stranglehold on this promotion board.

'But most importantly, the men and women you'll choose in the next two weeks will be the future leaders of our Air Force, our armed forces, and perhaps our country,' Ingemanson went on. 'Most of the candidates have completed one or more command and staff education programs; they might have a master's degree, and many even work on doctorates. They've maxed out on flying time, traveled to perhaps five or six different PCS assignments plus a few specialty and service schools. They're probably serving in the Sandbox now, and perhaps even served in other conflicts or actions. They are beginning the transition from senior line troop, instructor, or shop chief to fledgling unit commander. Find the best ones, and let's set them on track to their destinies.

'One more thing to remember: Not only can you pick the candidates best eligible for promotion, but you are also charged with the task of recommending that candidates be removed from extended active duty. What's the criterion for removal? That, my friends, is up to you. Be prepared to fully justify your reasons to me, but don't be afraid to give them either. Again, it's part of the awesome responsibility you have here.

'One last reminder: it is still our Air Force. We built it. I'd guess that most of the candidates you'll look at didn't serve in Vietnam, so they don't have the same perspective as we do. Many of our buddies died in Vietnam, but we survived and stayed and fought on. We served when it was socially and politically unpopular to wear a uniform in our own hometowns. We played Russian roulette with nuclear weapons, the most deadly weapons ever devised, just so we could prove to the world that we were crazy enough to blow the entire planet into atoms to protect our freedom. We see the tides turning in our favor-but it is up to us to see that our gains are not erased. We do that by picking the next generation of leaders.

'It is our Air Force. Our country. Our world. Now it's our opportunity to pick those who we want to take our place. In my mind, it is equally important a task as the one we did in creating this world we live in. That's our task. Let's get to it. Please stand, raise your right hand, and prepare to take the oath of office to convene this promotion board.' General Ingemanson then administered the service oath to the board members, and the job was under way.

Norman and the other board members departed the small theater and headed toward the individual panel meeting rooms. There was a circular table with comfortable-looking chairs arrayed around it, a dry-marker board with an overhead slide projector screen, a bank of telephones, and the ever-present coffeepot and rack of ceramic mugs.

Norman's seven-member panel had five rated officers-four pilots and one navigator, including one officer who looked as if he had every possible specialty badge one person could have: He wore command pilot and senior paratrooper wings, plus a senior missile-launch officer badge on his pocket. The flyers all seemed to know each other-two were even from the same Air Force Academy class. To them, it was a small, chummy Air Force. None of the flyers wore any ribbons on their uniform blouses, only their specialty badges on one side, name tags on the other, and rank on their collar; Norman almost felt self-conscious wearing all of his three rows of ribbons before deciding that the flyers were probably out of uniform.

Introductions were quick, informal, and impersonal-unless you were wearing wings. Along with the flyers and Norman, there was a logistics planning staff officer from the Pentagon. Norman thought he recognized the fellow Pentagon officer, but with almost five thousand Air Force personnel working at the 'five-sided puzzle palace,' it was Pretty unlikely anyone knew anyone else outside their corridor. None of the panel members were women-there were only a couple women on the entire board, a fact that Norman found upsetting. The Air Force was supposed to be the most progressive and socially conscious branch of the American armed services, but it was as if they were right back in the Middle Ages with how the Air Force treated women sometimes.

Of course, the five flyers sat together, across the table from the nonflyers. The flyers were relaxed, loud, and animated. One of them, the supercolonel with all the badges, pulled out a cigar, and Norman resolved to tell him not to light up if he tried, but he never made any move to do so. He simply chewed on it and used it to punctuate his stories and jokes, shared mostly with the other flyers. He sat at the head of the semicircle of flyers at the table as if presiding over the panel. He looked as if he was very accustomed to taking charge of such groups, although each panel didn't have and didn't need a leader.

The supercolonel must've noticed the angry anticipation in Norman's eyes over his cigar, because he looked at him for several long moments during one of the few moments he wasn't telling a story or a crude joke. Finally, a glimmer of recognition brightened his blue eyes. 'Norman Weir,' he said, jabbing his cigar. 'You were the AFO chief at Eglin four years ago. Am I right?'

'Yes; I was.'