Success.

You can't be a wishful thinker. In order to achieve success you must know your capabilities and those of your equipment given any situation.

Our training must be situational and germane to what we will experience in the real world.

Without realistic, challenging, scenario-based training we are ill prepared the dynamic nature of our environment.

Success is the result of training, sweat equity, and learning from the past.

We Are

By Mark vonAppen

We know who we are, do you?

We live for the fight, the sting of heat on our skin.

We are edgy.

We are confrontational.

We push the limits as we pull others along.

We are those for whom good enough isn't good enough.

We are never satisfied.

We do as we are told, but not only as we are told.

We are moody.

We are complicated.

We are committed.

We are dirty.

We are relentless.

We are those for whom good enough simply isn't good enough.  To some we are frightening.

We are individual.

We are team.

We are teachers.

We are students.

We are questions.

We are answers.

We are fighters.

We are survivors.

We are who we claim to be.

We are dauntless.

We are brothers.

We are sisters.

We are real.

Learner

A work in progress.

Some things I learned (confirmed) this week after being humbled by life, death, Mother Nature, and the greatness of my peers that I will file in memory so that I am better next time.

Some of the week's revelations:

• Finding the  words to console a woman who returned home from work to find her husband of 30 years dead on the floor is difficult. Have something prepared.  Tell your spouse and kids that you love them every day.  Life is too short.
• Patience is a virtue.  The bomb squad is on their own schedule; deal with it.  It's better than getting blown up.
• Delivering a baby at 0300 in the backseat of a car has a degree of difficulty on par with Olympic gymnastics.  Practice for EMS calls in weird spots.  Paramedics on engines are nice to have.
• The value of diplomacy, and that (go figure) ICS terminology does not include the word "asshole."  When passing command at a working fire using the language, "Hey asshole, I'm talking to you!" will snap heads around post haste, but it does not lead to a convivial or smooth transfer of command.  It can lead to fisticuffs and a really good firehouse story.  

Have character, don't be one.  After almost 15 years on the job I feel like a beginner at times.  I need some more polish.  I'm still working on myself, believe me.  

Picking Up The Pace

By Mark vonAppen

A key component to maximizing training time is engaging your people in the short amount of time we're afforded during the day. Nothing has the potential to kill a training session like a leisurely paced, loosely planned get together. 

Coach them up, keep them moving.

Come along with me for a moment and imagine if you will a conversation between a pair of officers at the training center.

Officer 1:  Wanna train?

Officer 2:  Meh...

Officer 1:  What do you wanna do?

Officer 2:  I dunno. What do you wanna do?

The two officers stare at each other in an awkward and seemingly interminable silence...

Tick-tock, tick-tock (an exaggerated check of the watch)...

Officer 1:  Humph, Forget it. Wanna go get lunch?

Officer 2:  Yes! Geez, I thought you were never going to ask!

The play-date mentality works for children but not for skilled rescue professionals. While I believe that the training ground should be fun and even loose at times, I have some rules I try to abide by. There are a few simple things that any company officer can do to make sure that their people derive the maximum benefit from any training session, no matter the subject.

Declare the strategy:  Let participants - and especially instructors - know exactly what the desired result is of each drill session. There is never enough time to accomplish all that we hope to accomplish in practice. Wasted time is most often resultant of a lack of purpose and a defined area of focus.

Make sure that all involved know their roles (tactical objectives, schemes, vital concepts), especially those who are to introduce new subject matter. Students can see directly through someone who is not prepared to teach. If you don't have clearly defined goals and objectives in training you're just playing grab-ass. 

Have a plan and communicate your vision. Make it count every time.

Keep it short:  Tempo is maintained when teaching and coaching intervals are kept short. This does not necessarily mean in total time of the practice (tower) session, but rather in the administration of individual and company level training. 

Training sessions in the fire service often mirror the nature of our business, short bursts of intense activity followed by protracted periods of discussion on how to change the world, or at least improve somebody else's performance. 

We have to switch that up.

Emphasis must be placed on large amounts of high repetition hands on training and less on hyperbole. In order to maintain the flow of training, keep the post evolution commentary to a minimum. 

Keep things moving:  The area of training sessions that tend to drag the most are multi-company (or "team" sessions) evolutions. Team sessions in the fire service are often a flurry of loosely monitored activity followed by a marathon dialogue period. They are more speculation than fact. 

As emphasized in point 2, keep the yammering to a minimum. Input is valued, but in the interest of getting quality as well as quantity (we need both) training, a lot of hose must hit the ground, it must be reloaded quickly, and then the drill must be repeated. Standing around talking does not make us better at throwing ladders or performing a search.

Remember, the key to improving performance is getting physical reps. Your people have to get their hands on their tools in order to improve. Keep drills moving. Move your people from skill to skill having each subsequent performance build upon the previous one. 

Firefighters are doers, coach your crew briefly after an evolution and then move on. Hold some coaching in reserve to be emphasized in the privacy of the firehouse.

Which is worse: training exceptionally hard or being exceptionally terrible at your job?  

When we speak of fireground tempo we often stress the importance of moving slowly as we work the job. Don't move too fast, you might hurt yourself.  This is desk chair risk management and it doesn't remotely apply to how we are expected to perform when the bell hits. Forget that. 

Which is worse: training exceptionally hard or being exceptionally terrible at your job? 

We all know the answer. Train hard, get dirty, repeat often.

One cannot dispute the importance of being situationally aware, identifying critical fireground factors, and reading the environment. These factors are vital in order to ensure we make it out alive, but we have to move at a pace that is germane to the scenarios we will encounter in the real world. We have to move with urgency and purpose especially in the controlled environment of the drill grounds. Awareness of external factors is increased as we perform our craft at the conscious competence level. When speed and skill are in concert it is magic. We cannot get there without sweat equity and calculated, high-energy training sessions.

In order to maintain interest in training we must keep people engaged. The occasional surprise drill has value but should include a situation that has been trained for previously to allow for some degree of success. 

Remember to ask these questions to keep team members plugged in:

• What is the situation?
• Under what circumstances do we perform the skill and why?
• What is your responsibility in the scheme or evolution?
• What are the consequences if the skill is misapplied?
• What is the back up plan (audible) if this doesn't work?

Don't just throw your people at a skill, coach them up on the skill, teach them to walk before they run (and that running, at times, is okay too). Gradually increase the tempo of drills until performance speed is reached. Alternate between a slow pace in which no mistakes are made and training at the desired performance speed to get the best results. 

Keep the tempo and enthusiasm up. Get your crew to the training site, have a plan, keep them moving, have fun, and then get them back in service.


See El Camino save video from Sacramento Metro Fire: This video is an excellent example of well-trained personnel operating at a brisk pace with a positive outcome. 

Never Lose It

The measure of success is how much you love what you do.  Own your passion, never let the fire go out.

Three Decades of Perspective

By Mark vonAppen

In 1979, after 17 years of coaching football at the high school  and college levels, Fred vonAppen got his first professional coaching job. He and many others felt as if he had finally arrived. As he prepared to make the transition to the National Football League (NFL), he was fully aware of the challenges that come with coaching professional athletes. A man of strong convictions, he swore to himself and to his peers that he would not allow his principles to be compromised.

Professional football would not change Fred vonAppen.

The Idealist

April 10, 1979

"I'll never forget it," said Frederick (Fritz) vonAppen Sr., a retired captain with the Eugene Fire Department, speaking of his son's playing days. "Fred wasn't very big back then, and he came home after the first practice and just went to bed."

But not before getting sick. "Coughing up blood," said Fred Sr. "But Fred wouldn't give up."

He still hasn't.

"It's a mistake to compromise yourself."

Tucked into vonAppen's personality, somewhere in there, with his chaw of tobacco, his love of hillbilly music, and his bark-may-be-as-bad-as-his-bite bellowing that characterizes his on field coaching is the determination that kept him from quitting football. And he continued to flourish in his drive for coaching success.

"I aspired to play pro football, but I never thought I'd be coaching at that level. I didn't make it as a player. I hope to do it as a coach," vonAppen said. "I know I'll be dealing with grown men whose motivations differ from individual to individual, men who are in a profession trying to be as good or better than anyone else in the profession."


Change? Not vonAppen. "It's a mistake to compromise yourself."


-Bob Rodman
 Of the Eugene Register-Guard

The Radical

September 4, 1980

When I was a fourth-grader my mom and dad met us at the curb by the front entrance to our school. My folks rarely picked my sister and me up from school, I mean rarely. Even on days when the weather was at it's most beastly in Green Bay, Wisconsin - with the wind howling and snow drifts taller than we were - to school we'd walk. Sometimes we'd arrive and the doors to school would be locked due to snow conditions.  

With school closed, we'd climb all over the playground until pins and needles on our noses and cheeks became too bothersome, then we'd trudge the three quarters of a mile back home.


The weather this day was beautiful - the afternoon sky unblemished - my parents met us at the entrance to the school - mom with my baby brother on her hip and dad beside her, arms folded as he leaned against the station wagon.

My parents never came to school together - especially in the Fall. Dad was usually at work these Autumn days until well past dinner time. My mom ran the house during football season and to have us assembled in the same spot during daylight hours - unless we were on the practice field - was entirely out of the ordinary. Even as a 9 year-old I could decypher the semaphore on their faces signaling loud and clear - something wasn't right. 

He took a deep breath in, staring up vacantly at the sky he exhaled, "Hey buddy, I quit my job today."

"Hey guys, let's go," my mother said. Leaning over she kissed us each atop the head. 


My folks shepherded us into the car and off we drove. When the car didn't follow the familiar track to the house, my sister asked in the high, lilting voice of a 6 year-old girl, "Mommy, where are we going?"


"For a walk." dad said. "We need to get away from the house for a while."


Unbeknownst to us kids, a crush of reporters was camped out on our front lawn complete with cameras, notepads, pens, fedoras, and cigars. They all wanted a piece of my dad. My parents thought it best if we were not subjected to the media circus at our house, so we went for a drive.


We traveled - past the prison and over the Fox River Bridge - for 15 minutes in relative silence until we reached a park on the fringes of the city. 

Dad parked the car.


The creek muttered beside us as we walked through our favorite picnic ground not far from our home, a male and female mallard bobbed with the current. My father and I split from my mother and siblings - they headed for the swings beyond the picnic area - my dad and I continued along stream. My dad shuffled down the bank with me, hands in his pockets, head down in preoccupied thought until we reached the spot where I liked to skip stones. 

I grazed the pebbles with my hands as he absent-mindedly swept his foot back and forth helping unearth rocks right for skipping. Like a gem from the sandy earth I'd glean a skipper, examine it for symmetry, curve my index finger around it, whipping it across the stream I'd count.


"Three..."


I'd rake the ground some more and launch another, "Six..." The rock cracked against a boulder on the opposite bank.


My dad stooped, picked up a flat rock gave it a toss in the air and then fired it in a shallow trajectory just above the water.  It skittered cross the surface and it too ricocheted off a boulder on the opposite bank, a cracking report echoing in the maw of a nearby steel culvert that carried the stream to the opposite side of the highway.


Keeping score I said, "Wow, that was like 10 dad."


He took a deep breath in, staring up vacantly at the sky he exhaled, "Hey buddy, I quit my job today."


I paused momentarily and then skipping another stone I said, "That was really dumb dad."


September 5, 1980

Fred vonAppen resigned as the Green Bay Packers defensive line coach just three days before the season opener against the Chicago Bears. (Head coach)Bart Starr said vonAppen, one of the teams most popular assistant coaches resigned because of an incident involving one of his players during a 38 - 0 loss to the Denver Broncos on Saturday night.

- Mike Christopulos, The Milwaukee Sentinel

In the fall of 1980 Fred vonAppen quit his job as defensive line coach of the Green Bay Packers over a matter of principle. His brash move was the culmination of much frustration after repeated attempts at changing a misdirected culture in an organization that was foundering for lack of direction and discipline. It was an incident involving a hot dog that threatened to derail the career of this talented and fiery young position coach.

Some felt that the head-strong vonAppen acted rashly. However, vonAppen said, "I have no regrets."

After his initial season as an NFL assistant coach vonAppen was so troubled by the culture associated with the Packers and was determined to be a catalyst for change. A strong believer in the team concept, rewarding hard work and dedication, he became disillusioned with the team's lack of discipline, the poor overall work ethic, and lack of direction. He was bent on driving change in the organization - starting with his men -  as he began his second NFL season. 

He was uncompromising in his convictions.

VonAppen had been assured by his boss - head coach Bart Starr - that change was on the horizon and they would work as a coaching staff to shift the practices of the organization. He met with his players and informed them of his intent to change the culture, improve discipline, and instill a firm work ethic. All the pieces appeared in place to start the revolution. The world as the Green Bay player's knew it was forever to change.

The writing was on the wall though that changing the culture was going to be a long and difficult task because the organization was blind to the full extent of the problem. Time and again, disciplinary issues were lightly dealt with, or completely dismissed as insignificant, and the team continued down the loser's path. VonAppen's frustration with the organization reached a boiling point in the final pre-season game of the 1980 season.

Following a pre-season pasting (38 - 0) at the hands of the Denver Broncos, vonAppen learned that one of his players, Ezra Johnson, had been eating a hot dog on the sideline during the second half. Johnson was a tremendously talented player and a marked under-acheiver with a sizable attitude problem. Johnson said he didn't mean any disrespect to anyone by his actions. "I was just hungry," he stated in an interview. "I didn't wave it around or anything."

"I believe strongly in the principles of team play, and I am not able to compromise the principles I have."

In a meeting the day after the "hot dog incident" between head coach Bart Starr and vonAppen, the defensive line coach was assured that the penalty levied against Johnson would be swift and severe based upon the symbolism and the potential negative impact on the rest of the team. VonAppen advocated suspending Johnson and went so far as to recommend trading him to another team. Both Starr and vonAppen agreed that a message needed to be sent. 

In the end, Johnson was fined $1,000 and was required to apologize to his teammates. The tariff and the apology were not severe enough in vonAppen's opinion. Johnson was neither suspended nor traded, he was at practice the Monday following the game. 

At the first sign of conflict, and with an opportunity to show commitment to the new way of doing business, the organization did not support the assistant coach or his vision. Instead, they turned tail and ran. Feeling betrayed, vonAppen met with his boss and demanded an explanation. 

When interviewed on the matter vonAppen said, "I was deeply disappointed and troubled by the symbolism of something like that." Then he quit saying that he had no hard feelings towards Johnson. "I am sure that people will think this is extreme, but they don't know all that was involved."

"We didn't need that," Starr said of vonAppen's abrupt departure. "Fred is a man of high principle. Principle is one thing, principle without honor is another." 

"That's my personality make-up." vonAppen said. "I believe strongly in the principles of team play, and I am not able to compromise the principles I have.  So I had to walk."

September 26, 1980

Some people felt that the head-strong vonAppen acted rashly since his resignation came just days before the Packers' season opener against the Chicago Bears. However, vonAppen said he would do the same thing again, "I have no regrets. I quit over a matter of principle. I know the whys and wherefores of what I did."

- Mike Christopulos, The Milwaukee Sentinel

The Pragmatist

Thirty years after the fact, my dad has a different, softened, perspective on the incident. Beyond the precarious family portion of the story, my father's actions did not create the change  he envisioned. The team continued its downward spiral (the Packers finished 5 - 10 - 1) and when all was said and done, he was unemployed. 

Nobody won.

Stories such as this can help those of us who are frustrated with their organizations - the bureaucracy, the pettiness, the lack of vision - find the perspective to carry on in a less confrontational manner knowing that in time that battle that you wanted so much to win was inconsequential to the outcome of the war. Taking a hard stand on principle is admirable, and for a short period of time it may steel some people in your corner, but as days and weeks and months go by these overt acts polarize and divide an organization and make the individual appear to be a loose cannon. 

I can hear myself in the quotes contained on the yellowed pages of the articles written thirty years ago. I think all of those who hit the road in search of "the way" will smirk as they hear themselves in my father's words. It's the same circus with different clowns no matter the occupation. 

Somewhere in a cubicle farm inside a nondescript office building in Any Town, USA some anonymous worker - toiling his life away in his tiny cube - is at odds with his boss waging a similar war based on principle. Or maybe it's a firehouse, and instead of a football field it is the drill ground.

"In the end, I quit my job, making a stand for what I believe in and nothing really changed."

My old man is not a quitter. When I speak with him now about the days when he quit his job with the Green Bay Packers, he is much more pragmatic in his assessment of how his actions affected everyone involved. 

After he quit his job, he had no money coming in, a wife and children to feed, and a mortgage. "You can't feed a family on principle," he said. "If you quit, the organization may pause momentarily to witness the display, but it will move on without you and all that will be remembered - forever - is that you lost your cool and gave up."

Reckless actions aimed at revolution may make a big splash, but most times the ripples don't shift the sands of the intended shore. 

"In the end, I quit my job, making a stand for what I believe in and nothing really changed. Would I do it again? I don't know, but at the time, when I was much younger and more idealistic it seemed like the only move I could make. Would I jeopardize my family's security and my career that way again? Looking back on it, probably not."

Stick with it. Whatever it is.
 Photo by Lloyd Mitchell

We cannot go through our career throwing our hands in the air and giving up when things don't go our way. Time has a way of rendering jagged edges supple. It also has a way of softening our perspective, making us less prone to impulsive decisions. The courage and perseverance that it takes to drive positive change and influence a cultural shift is much less spectacular than the story of one who quits in a fit of passion. The long road to change is not the spectacle of the former, but is nonetheless a mix of triumph and tragedy.

I am every bit my father's son. I am quick to anger, motivated by passion, I have my principles - we all do - and there have been many times when I have been tempted to ring out from being monumentally frustrated and exhausted from jumping through hoops and over hurdles. I don't know what the keys to success are necessarily, but I know the quickest route to failure is trying to please everyone. 

Passion, patience, and perseverance are the keys to driving positive change.

There is a difference between compromise and being compromised. Compromise is an agreement or a settlement of a dispute by two sides making concessions. Compromised is to weaken a reputation or principle by accepting standards that are lower than what is considered acceptable. It is possible to compromise on an issue without compromising your principles. 

Change what you can change and put the rest aside in the short term. The big battles will still be there when you get back, better to chip away at them over time than to try to break off a large piece all at once. The burden you bear will lessen, and your river of personal pessimism will recede because you will witness the positive fruits of your labor in the development of others around you.  

We have to find the thing that drives us most and stick with it. Passion, patience, and perseverance are the keys to driving positive change. It is patience that makes us choose to work for what we want most versus what we want right now. Slow, steady, and consistent wins the race.

Stick with it, whatever it might be. If you don't, you will be forever left with the ache and wonder of what could have been. You can't make the change if you are not there.

Pass Road

Most all of us enter into our career in the fire service blind with ideology; thinking that we can master the learning curve and become difference makers, we seek to augment growth, foster development, and provide support to our brothers and sisters.

The Cat 5 sweeping through Grandpa's firehouse, 1976. 

It's a family after all, right?

Our fire ignited, we set about changing the world in our own way, one fire service knot, one hose evolution, one burpee, or one emergency medical call at a time. For a while, we are buoyed almost exclusively by the novelty of the new path, and the pride of displaying the badge of a time-honored profession.

Needing more, we pack our bags and strike out on our own to see for our selves that the world - widely rumored to be flat -  is round and does not drop off at the corners of our respective jurisdictions. We journey through Non Plus Ultra to Ad Adventurum. Live the adventure; whatever will be, will be. We discover the world to be a big, beautiful, humbling, mind-expanding place. Our fire grows so large that it creates its own wind, we feel ourselves to be a force of nature.

Our flame will never be snuffed because the commitment never ends.

We seek to expand our circle of knowledge, attempting to bring back what we learn on the path to the entire organization - our world - in a single person human wave assault. We sponsor training, and try our hand at policy reform as we take on the every perceived illness that afflicts the organization. We want to fix it all, and we want to fix it now.

Storm warnings are issued as we travel between firehouses. 

Look out for these guys.

Our wind speeds exceed that of a Category 5 hurricane, the fire grows unchecked. We are not-so-subtly reminded that firefighters don't make policy, chiefs do.

Whatever bro, that's cool...

And it's on to the next skirmish. In our wake plumes of smoke issue forth from bridges ablaze from the energy of hubris and ego.

Driven by naive, youthful exuberance, and an indomitable spirit, heads down, we push on. Time passes and we recognize that there are a disproportionately high number of hurdles and roadblocks that we must negotiate in order to move forward. 

At first blush it appears simply to be the inherent friction in the system that slows innovation and stunts growth. As time goes on, we reach a dark and foul-tasting epiphany. The organization does not value innovation, and it does not want forward momentum. Worse yet, we discover that as much as we love the organization, our love is unrequited. There are few things harder to deal with than having a passion for something that burns inside you like a bonfire and not being able to express it.

Photo by Colin Carter

We far too often encounter a resistance to change or proposed growth combined with hostility which act as major distractions to the intended mission of the fire service. The mission is to serve the needs - and protect the safety - of the community. An on-going preoccupation with what cannot be done rather than what can be done renders a degree of dysfunction to operations and negatively impacts team building. Wind speeds slow and our fire is relegated to an angry smolder. It becomes personal.

There are few things harder to deal with than having a passion for something that burns inside you like a bonfire and not being able to express it.

It may take a few years for us to recognize that the political topography of municipalities and in turn, individual fire departments, often make it virtually impossible to actualize many of our objectives. A blend of parochialism and the cumbersome inbred bureaucracy that litters landscape of city government makes the situation untenable for some. Daily distractions become the norm. Friction within the organization can steal passion; it can take away love for the game, and it can break our spirit.

If we let it, the fire will go out and we grow cold and bitter inside. We struggle with the universal conundrum, do we lead, do we follow, or do we simply get out of the way? 

Some of us retreat into shells and shrink our sphere of influence - self, crew, station - in an attempt at self-preservation. Some give up entirely. Still others wage a misunderstood war - redefining insanity by continually launching headlong into a cement wall - in a vain effort to resuscitate a moribund fight. 

We try to bring others on board in the struggle, all the while the friction of the establishment has us in its undertow. What we desire most of all to preserve our way of hard work and dedication to the craft.

Our career can stall into a period marked by a lack of progress and little or no advancement because it is easier to roll over on our back and expose our belly in an act of total submission. 

But that's not who we are. Quit is not in our vocabulary, fight and adaptation are. History shows us that wars are won by those who are students of battle stories and learn from the past. Full frontal assaults are suicidal. There is a better way. It might take much longer, but it will be less costly in terms of broken spirits and career casualties.

The road is more circuitous than we'd like, but we cannot forsake tomorrow's battles for a lack of  immediate and overwhelming victory today. 

We search for the path though or around the detritus. We experience fleeting triumphs as we work against brazen lies in pursuit of the way. We will not allow what we cannot control interfere with what we can accomplish. 

We must augment people's dreams, not disparage them.

Those who don't lose their way are able to cup the ember in their hands and carry what remains of the fire and lay in wait until the time is right to move. They move through anger to acceptance and when it is safe to do so, they open their hands and issue the ember a breath of air. The flame of passion flickers back to life. 

In the shadows of the bare flame that fights off the gloom we see the others. All of us know that it is far better to be a light than to curse the darkness.

We assemble our team of fire service seekers and start spot fires, one knot, one training evolution, one small change at a time. We continually ignite these small fires and slowly we outflank the fortifications defilade before us. We take the fight from the open fields where we are easy targets to the streets and engage in a house to house, street to street fight aimed at cultural renaissance.

We take the fight underground. 

We call it positive subversion. We will not allow personal limits to be placed on us. We create our own beginning, middle, and ending. We search for the pass road through the mountains that loom before us. 

Eventually we find our way.

If we work at it as leaders, we can actually eliminate the conditions that make leadership necessary. Like a coach or a teacher who bridges the learning gap between themselves and their pupil until it disappears, we try to bring equality to our crew, station, and battalion, thus enabling greater relationships to blossom. 

If you lead your people properly there doesn't necessarily need to be an end-game in sight. They don't have to know where exactly they're going so long as they believe in the concept, plan, or vision. If we're doing it right, we allow our people to find their way and through shared ideology and innovation we all move forward together.

How do we foster our people and promote positive change?

• Solicit input from the crew.
• Under promise and over deliver.
• Take accountability for your shortfalls and pass credit for success to your people.
• Be disciplined in your approach to the craft. Your people want structure - they want to know what to expect.
• Don't keep knowledge to yourself, share what you learn.
• Be a positive role model and encourage others who share a passion for the craft to become mentors too.
• Communicate your passion, have fun, and show humility.

We can no more explain our passion to a person who has never experienced it than we can explain light to the blind. Passion is energy, it is palpable. We must never lose it.

A large part of what it means to lead is having the courage to disobey; not in a sophomorish revolt against the establishment simply for the sake of conflict, but because we feel that there is a better way to be found through independent thought, communication, innovation, and teamwork.

The passage is narrow and its walls are sheer. The road is strewn with the burned-out, still smoking hulks of what were the dreams and aspirations of those who preceded us. Real leadership is bringing those disenfranchised individuals back into the fold, helping them reclaim their dreams from those who took them away.

We must augment people's dreams, not disparage them. Too often the opposite happens. Courage and character are developed by celebrating initiative and independence. Our time in service and in this world are limited, we cannot afford live our lives in a rigid adherence to dogma, living exclusively by someone else's rules. Our flame will never be snuffed because the commitment never ends. 

Sometimes you have to wage the war of positive change on a small scale; one person, one drill, one company at a time. It requires perseverance - total buy-in - and long term commitment. Stay in the fight, it's a war of attrition, not a shock and awe campaign.