Richard
Hansen, the Commander of New Orleans District, is headed to his next deployment
in Afghanistan for his next assignment. I wish him good luck and
godspeed in his work. And I pray for his safe return.
A
few years ago, I watched a fascinating bit of pageantry within the Corps of
Engineers, as the Hurricane Protection Office - who oversaw the building of the
levees following Katrina - changed their leadership in a Change of Command
Ceremony. I wrote up a quick overview, and laughed about it with
some friends.
I
saw another CoCC this past week, as the New Orleans commander was replaced with
a new Colonel. It was different. But some of the
elements remained the same.
From
the original:
It
was a lovely service, with a retired Lieutenant Colonel singing the national
anthem (beautiful voice), a good, stirring speech from the Brigadier General,
and brief remarks by the outgoing Colonel (he is going to lead the Corps effort
in Afghanistan) and the incoming Colonel.
But
I found the actual ritual of change of command fascinating as an
anthropological insight into Corps mentality.
As
a narrator (a captain whose public reading skills had definitely not figured
into his promotions) described the scene from the podium, the highest ranking
Noncom in the Hurricane Protection Office approaches the flags on the right of
the stage, removes the corps colors from the stand, and performs a smart about
face. He then marches to a spot in front of the assembled crowd, and
turns to face the small group at the front of the room. With his
arms extended holding the colors, he makes his presentation to the civilian in
the middle of the huddle. The civilian turns to his left and hands
the flag to the outgoing Colonel, who turns and presents it to the Brigadier
General, who turns and presents it to the incoming Colonel, who extends his
arms to give it back to the Noncom. The Noncom marches back over to
the stand, forcefully places the flag into the stand with a
"HOOOAH!", and everyone goes back to where they were before the
ceremony.
OK,
let me see if I have this right. The guy reading from the script
gets lost, repeatedly, on the page. The General flies into New
Orleans on the government jet (the one I made turn around because I stole the
pilot's computer) to pass a flag from one officer to another. A
civilian, looking uncomfortable in the whole mix, acts as an intermediary
between the Noncom and the outgoing Colonel, but is not involved from that
point forward and never interacts with the General. The Colonels do
not actually interact with one another. And the end result involves
the Noncom enthusiastically putting things back the way they were before any of
this happened, and shouting out that the task is complete.
Synopsis
of the synopsis: we got fired up to do something nobody wanted done, involved a
bunch of brass with pomp and circumstance, shouted that we did it, and when we
were done, everything was exactly the way it was beforehand.
2016 New Orleans Change of Command Ceremony.
Because
outdoors in June in New Orleans is the best.
|
The ceremony this time around was
a little more tame, and a little less a metaphor for the work we
do. But I am keenly aware of how much the change of command disrupts
the way we do business.
Two months ago, I was deployed to help
the communities in Louisiana recover after flooding took out much of the states
(this time, not from hurricanes; YAY!), and was gone for a month. It was a
critical time that I was gone; we bought a house and moved, the job got very
intense, and the class I was taking reached a fever pitch.
The initial agreement was that I was to
get a replacement that would go down at the same time as I was there, we would
talk about how we had done the work last time, and then I would
leave. And from home, I would provide remote support for the
replacement, coming down to help when we have public meetings, writing,
reading, and researching. But I would not have to be there for the
day-to-day.
Two weeks after I arrived, there was no
sign that anyone was going to back me up. My boss was a little
nervous, and I was under some pressure to get home.
Finally, Jeff joins me. He
is brilliant, hard working, and has a great attitude. That is, his
attitude is much like mine - a little snarky, a little funny, and hiding a
thoughtful demeanor behind a happy-go-lucky outlook.
He also makes a mean sazerac...
Anyway, we worked together in Baton Rouge
for a couple weeks more, and I handed the reins over to him, with a promise to
help him any way I could.
Slam that flag down into the stand and
shout "HOOOAH!"
While I was deployed, I had several
projects that had been nearing the hot seat. They got there while I
was gone.
Two of my teammates, Mincer and Sarah,
picked up the baton and kept running, even while other stuff was piling on
their plates. But they saw the need to get stuff done, and without
ceremony (see what I did there?) they took on the tasks and got them
done. Even when the burrocratic Vogons were standing in the way
("You need two spaces after the header, not one. Print it out
and bring it to me") they got the job done.
Hoooah. (Less enthusiasm,
perhaps?)
After I returned, the heat kicked up on
a number of my projects, many of which were getting started before I came on
board. One particular project requires me to identify participants
across the Division, and ask them to make time for the work I have for them to
do. With no compensation. And no reward for doing the
job. No incentive at all. My predecessor had managed, but
all of the people on his list have taken jobs elsewhere - some elsewhere in the
Corps, and some outside of government service. So my job now is to
convince some bosses that the work is important enough to dedicate someone to
do it, who will do a good job and do it gladly for nothing but an
attaboy.
Never mind. Just hand me the
flag. hooah
Best of luck to Colonel
Clancy. Looking forward to working with you, sir.
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