The Petty Officer School of Management

I am the son of a former United States Naval officer. I am a Navy brat born and raised. A lot of the values I hold, come from the US military. Last August I found a website that sells military related apparel for MMA training, totally random. As I perused I came across a shirt( which is displayed above) and the description(copied below) got me thinking a lot about how I manage my team.
Right now, as you sit here, there is a team of sailors on 30 foot seas, underwater in a tin bubble, or about to kick down a door and meet the enemy. There is a young petty officer leading this group. He's no more than 21 or 22 years old. Odds are he is the first man in the stack even though that's not his job, because he can't bear to ask his guys to go in first. Before they arrived at the house he was encouraging his men, running through the steps, reminding them how it was all going to go down. Before that, at base camp, he was checking their equipment, ammo, and weapon. Back home, before they even came to this God-forsaken place he was pushing them through training, reminding them that one mistake could mean their deaths, carrying that burden on his shoulders.
But he isn't alone. He has mentors too. His leader, only a couple years older has probably spent 2-3 years of his life at sea by now. Older than his 24-year-old appearance by a long shot, he is not going to let his men down. He is going to have the most prepared group of sailors in the Navy.
If he doubts that for a second, his Chief, that crusty E-7 the movies are so prone to lionize (and rightly so for a change) is right there to kick him in the ass. He runs this crew, and on top of that, has to train a cocky 22-year-old ensign to not be an idiot and get his men killed.
He reports to the lieutenant, but his real boss, the Senior Chief, is there to back him up in every way - making sure his guys have everything they need to survive and thrive, whether it's food, ammo, rest, or recognition.
Watching over it all, maintaining the discipline of the Navy, is the Master Chief. He looks haggard and salty as hell, but still spry for his age. He's seen it all. He's been there, done that, and had more t-shirts than this whole damn company. He's forgotten more about Davy Jones Locker than we all know. And he's quietly confident in a way an Admiral will never understand.
He wasn't shooting for Master Chief the way many officers plan on being Colonels or Generals and start networking from day one. All he did his entire life was take care of sailors, whether it was his battle buddy when he was a scared seaman at basic or his ship now.
The best part is that he still doesn't think he deserves it.
God bless the NCO.
What I took away from this
1. Your priorities are: 1. The mission, 2. Your men, 3. You. In that order. You make sure your men are moving the mission forward, You take care of your men, then you worry about yourself. Period.I make sure my developers are making forward progress and compensated properly before I consider asking for compensation.
2. Protect your men at all costs. Be the first one through the door. If I can shield my guys from bullshit, I will.
3. Never ask your men to do something you wouldn’t do yourself. Despite having a director title, I still code 80% of my time. Eventually that will change as the organization gets larger. However if we are ever in a jam where we are seriously short handed, I will have no quams or complaints about throwing myself into code again instead of letting one of my guys working a 100 hours/weekfor a month and being so burnt out that they can’t continue.
4. Train the guys below you. You never know whats going to happen. You could get hit by a bus. You may have to get major surgery. You may just quit. Make sure someone knows how to do what you do. you may be MIA or KIA, but the mission must continue.
Postscript
I wrote this shortly before I left on a working holiday to my parents for christmas. I showed it to my father. I’ve had a hard time coming up with a way to end this that doesnt sound snotty or preachy. So i will just end it with a joke my father told me after reading it.
A master chief petty officer died the same day as Pope John Paul II. The pope was shown to his room with a humble palette, was provided with good food, and full access to the libraries and entertainment that only heaven could provide. He looked out his window to see a great ruckus out in the streets. There was a man with a beer gut, smoking a fine cuban cigar, with a bottle of whiskey in his right hand and an unimaginably attractive woman on each arm. they were sitting in the back of one of the most beautiful caddilac converibles anyone had ever seen driven by none other than Saint Francis. Not irate, but enervated, the Pope did not go straight to the top, but rather to Saint Peter. "Peter, I dont understand, I am not asking for fanfair, but why does this man get a parade?"
"You see John, we have all the Popes except for a few. This is our first petty officer."
I hope someday to make it to Master Chief of my own profession.
Happy Holidays
