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Making
things happen - with integrity. A weekly CyberMemo designed to keep you on task. Monday January 27, 2003 Volume V Number 4 |
FOCUS - Cobra Captain
The war talk is more than talk for us this week. More than a headline. People we know will be personally called up for duty. They will perhaps be asked to enter into harm’s way in the coming months.
One may enter into combat. One flies fighter jets. One is a search and rescue specialist stationed on a Navy hospital ship. Another (Candy and Jamie’s new neighbor) is a Marine. When we met her and her husband last week, tall and confident, with a winsome smile and the eye of the Tiger, she gave me a firm handshake and a smiling eyes and an affirming nod and I asked her about her duties in the Marine Corps and she answered, “I’m a pilot.” No kidding? I said. What do you fly? “Helicopters,” she replied. Which one? “The Cobra,” she said, matter of fact. Wow, I said in a golly-gee voice, not even disguising my surprise or my admiration.
The AH 1W Cobra is a two
place, jet propelled attack machine equipped with a 20MM turreted canon and a
rack for precision guided missiles, air-to-ground; the devastating Hellfire or
Sidewinder, depending on the mission. Pilots are trained to fly the Cobra in
the dark of night, wearing night-vision infra-red goggles to see terrain in
without the benefit of natural light. In the last conflict, the American
squadron of Cobras in Desert Storm knocked out ninety seven enemy tanks and one
hundred and four armored personnel carriers and vehicles, blew away sixteen
bunkers and two antiaircraft artillery sites.
This is Jeanette’s (her husband calls her Netty) world.
I don’t think it’s unusual for Netty to encounter the kind of response I gave her. Yes, her role as an attack pilot took me by surprise. But there was no doubt in my mind that she is as capable as a competent pilot can be. It’s a new world. In that first brief exchange, she exuded the sort of self-assurance and grit that makes our military the finest in the world and ultimately, when the trigger is pulled (looks like in the near future), will put fear in the hearts of the enemy.
But these are all young people. Bright. Intelligent. Fit. Strong. Determined. Committed. I’m old enough to be their father.
They believe in their country. Our leadership. They embrace the camaraderie of their fellow fighting men and women. They submit to the chain of command. And they could get hurt. It could cost them their lives. Freedom and our way of life comes at a price. They are willing to pay it.
So as I wished Netty well that Saturday afternoon as the sun set, I gave her a snappy and unofficial but heartfelt salute and thanked her for her willingness to make the sacrifice and get the job done and wished her Godspeed and shook hands with her again and thought about the tens of thousands now bidding farewell to people they love and making their way on land, air and sea to the Middle East uncertain about the timing and the particulars of their mission and indeed, uncertain about the outcome. But all determined, fresh, ready and willing to do whatever it takes.
It’s the American way.
And they make me proud.
* * * * * *
This weekend we’ll watch the Super Bowl again.
It’s an annual tradition. Everyone does. It’s an American spectacle. It’s more than a football game. It’s entertainment. The commercials are thirty and sixty second dramas, short stories, packing a comedic punch or an emotional tug, opening the door of suggestion, disarming us, causing us to drop our guard and all renew our commitment as willing, eager consumers. The stars will lip-synch on a grand stage, and the participants in the floor show will nearly out-number ticket holders occupying their pricey seats right there in the stadium. They will catch the close-ups and the replays on the jumbo-tron. San Diego, thanks to big color screens tuned into the signal via the airwaves and cable and satellite dish, will be the global center-of-attention, and on a brilliant January day, with clear sky and balmy temperature, like the Rose Parade in Pasadena, everyone in the world will want to pack up and move and make their permanent home sunny Southern California.
Think about it. The primary draw for this final football game, which now, many say, eclipses the World Series and America’s favorite most highly anticipated sporting event, is simple. The outcome is unknown. Before the game, no one knows. It’s only speculation. Some try to make it a science, studying the players, the stats, the coaches, the strategies employed throughout the season, matching up QB against QB, offense against defense, payroll against payroll, the degree of difficulty in post-season play, all combined in an effort to predict. And as much ink, as many words as have been written, as many talk shows and sports gurus and as technical the scrutiny of betting trends and monitoring of the gambling hordes, no one really knows that will happen on that grid-iron. There are a thousand combinations of circumstances and events, the momentum of confidence will shift back and forth.
But the outcome will not really be known until the final gun goes off.
Who will it be? The bad boys in black? Or the Buccaneers from Florida?
The outcome could be determined early in the game, which no one really wants to see – one team dominating from the start. We all prefer the game to go right down to the finish, with seconds ticking ominously off the clock, when players are exhausted from battle, bruised and worn, when Quarterbacks, with broken fingers and ribs, weary, must dig deep and find the winning play, and the defense, alert and quick, covering champion receivers like hawks on their prey, and our hearts beat a little faster, we sit on the edge of our over-stuffed couches and chairs, so much at stake, so little time.
And we still don’t know.
Until it’s over.
And when it is, the adrenaline, the laughter, the high fives, the groans, the shouting and the shaking of the fist, all subside, and after too much guacamole and salsa, we’ll all determine to be back again next year.
And do it all again.
If we really knew the outcome in advance, would it be as much fun?
I don’t think so.
* * * * * * *
Our nation’s armed forces are poised and at the ready.
But the air waves are filled with the voices of protest and reservation. There are those who believe we need more proof that Iraq’s despot is a menace. Some with signed contracts, those who profit from lucrative deals with the tyrant of Baghdad, seem to favor delays in the name of international co-operation. Others seem to smell some kind of political advantage by frustrating the determination of our Commander in Chief.
We don’t know the outcome. The next few weeks will tell a powerful story. There is much at stake. But others, unlike those whiners and naysayers, including our fighting men and women, have maintained their resolve. When their commander and chief gives the order, business will be done. It will send a message to the world: the USA means business.
TIME Magazine produced a special edition just after the attack on New York and Washington, and two of my favorite writers contributed compelling commentary. Lance Morrow, hardly a hawk, wrote the following in a kind of righteous rage as the smoke smoldered still at Ground Zero, Manhattan -
“What’s needed is a unified, unifying, Pearl Harbor sort of purple American fury – a ruthless indignation that doesn’t leak away in a week or two, wandering off into Prozac-induced forgetfulness or into the next media sensation (O.J., … Elián … Chandra …) or into a corruptly thoughtful relativism (as has happened in the recent past, when, for example, you might hear someone say, “Terrible what he did, of course, but, you know, the Unabomber does have a point, doesn’t he, about modern technology?”). – Lance Morrow, September 15, 2001
These words are just over a year old, but already, sadly, some have fallen into a sleepy complacency.
This week will be telling. Will our President, in joint session, rally the nation behind the cause? The State of the Union address could well be a turning point. Either way.
I’ll be tuned in.
* * * * * * *
It’s Monday morning. You are a leader and you are in touch.
Netty’s ready. So is Pete. And Jared. And Bryan. They are on call.
Looks like the Tampa Bay Buccaneers came to San Diego ready, too. The Bucks will never again be called the Yucks (as they once were in the old wannabe days).
So on this morning, let’s think about it. Are we ready? You and me?
We don’t know the outcome. We don’t know if a military strike against Iraq will lead to a catastrophic global conflict on the one hand or bring resolution and stability to the region, not to mention liberation for an oppressed people on the other. We don’t know for sure how investors will fare as the conflict heats up. We don’t know if our business plans are a direct road to success and achievement, or a silly exercise in futility.
But we do know this: we’re going to show up ready. Focused. Energized. Alert. Wide-eyed and enthusiastic. We’re going to show up with the aim of winning.
There is no other alternative.
We’re leaders.
Posted in Valley Center, California
© Copyright Kenneth E. Kemp 2003
Special Thanks to my good friend David Belcher, owner of Rhino Media Group and creator of WisdomGram
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