A collection of experiences that have washed ashore during a 40-year career in the United States Navy.
Our three-month training session in submarine nuclear power plants was drawing to a close in September 1976. I was one of 10 prospective commanding officers (PCOs) who had survived 10 two-hour written exams and several individual oral exams and we had only the final eight-hour exam to complete. We had grown into a cohesive group with a sense of humor and hope that the end was in sight. As the senior officer in the group, Captain Smith called me into his office.
"Tomorrow afternoon Admiral Rickover will give his graduation remarks to your group." and he continued, "There a few ground rules I want to go over with you."
"This is the first time since you have been here that any of you have seen the admiral. He had a heart attack a year ago, and that has slowed him down, and he is really showing his age, which is 76. That doesn't mean that he has lost any of his keen intelligence and insight into the nuclear power program. His comments to you will focus on maintaining the standards of the training you have had and the need to be vigilant in the security and safety of operation of the Navy's nuclear propulsion plants."
He continued, "Now the ground rules. You will be in a small classroom next to the admiral's office. Sit in the first two rows in the middle. Wear your coat and tie. Don't chew gum, don't cross your legs and don't look out the window while the admiral is talking to you. Look at the admiral and listen to what he has to say. Don't take notes. He will ask you at the end of his talk if you have any questions. I recommend that you remain silent as questions often set the admiral "off" and there is no predicting what the outcome will be. He is not expecting you to ask any questions. Do you have any questions of me?"
"Should we rise when the admiral enters the room?" I asked.
"Good question." he replied, "We will all be standing before he enters the room. As soon as he is seated, he will tell you to sit, if not, you take the lead and sit down, the rest will follow. At the end of the session, when he gets up to leave, you and the rest of class rise as well. No need to call 'Attention on Deck' as that will only set him off as well."
The next day about 1330, the word came from the admiral's office that he would meet with PCOs. We assembled in the designated room and stood by our desks. The admiral entered and sat down and we sat down. He clearly had aged in the last few years. After he looked at each of us, he launched into his remarks...with no notes. He said that he really did not look forward to giving these remarks, primarily because he did not know us on a personal level as he had known the commanding officers of the earlier submarines. He said that it appeared that we would all complete our studies satisfactorily and he would have to pass us on to command.
He continued, "What really bothers me is that I know 30 percent of you will fail as commanding officers and if knew which of you will fail, then I would not let those individuals go on to command. Unfortunately, I have no way of predicting who will fail, so I have no choice but to let you all go on to command."
He went on for another 30 minutes giving us his philosophy of safe operation of nuclear power plants and what he expected of us. When he was finished, he asked if we had any questions and we remained silent. He got up to leave the room and we all stood as Captain Smith escorted him back to his office. Captain Smith came back into the room and asked us what we thought of the admiral's remarks. We were still in a state of semi-shock from his prediction that 30 percent of us would fail in command. Captain Smith smiled and said actually we were better than the last class for which the admiral had predicted 40 percent would fail in command.
The really odd thing about this prediction is that four years later, after the 10 of us had completed command; three had had significant incidents during their command tour: a grounding while submerged in well charted waters because of a navigational error; a loss of two men over the side while conducting a non-essential personnel transfer by helicopter in heavy seas; a collision with a tug and tow in restricted waters during daylight with good visibility. In each incident, the commanding officer was held fully accountable. Although Admiral Rickover's graduation speech was certainly not the most uplifting, he delivered a message and a warning about the perils of command.
©2008 Hank McKinney