"VEGASSS!"
"VEGASSS!"
"VEGASSS!"
Oh, how lucky was I to get to go TDY to Nellis AFB in Las Vegas, NV only two months after The Hangover hit theaters in the United Kingdom?
Video clip: Oh, Alan...
So lucky.
Lucky enough to listen to Alan quotes all the way from RAF Lakenheath to London's Heathrow Airport (2.5 hours).
Lucky enough to have United Airlines play The Hangover on the loop from London to Chicago (8 hours).
Lucky enough not to lose anyone in Chicago since everyone needed a smoke break and, seeing as how no one could stand each other at that point, scattered like cats throughout one of the largest and most confusing airports in the United States (1 hour).
Lucky enough not to have any homicides on the final leg from Chicago to Las Vegas since no one wanted to be crammed into tiny seats for another flight (3.5 hours).
Lucky enough to have a Chief ready and waiting for us at the airport with a bus to the base (0.5 hours).
Then my luck ran out...
See, I didn't hate Captain Cockeyes prior to my transcontinental pilgrimage to the holy land of Las Vegas. I actually tried to learn from him during the exercise we held just prior to our TDY (because who doesn't exercise immediately before going TDY?!). But there were warning signs. And no matter how hard we tried to ignore them, the writing was on the wall.
For example, his insistence on critiquing the Chief's (rock-solid) plan. Or his desire to travel free of the main body. His ability to steer clear of all responsibility upon arrival (several days later than the rest of us I might add).
And then there was his general disposition and mannerisms: Mouth breathing. Laughy. Head bobbing (more on that in Afghan). Pirouettes. Parade rest walking. Incessantly finger-combing his hair. Living out of his car. Jealousy. Lip smacking.
Video clip: Seriously...on the flight line where real men work.
I was left even more dumbfounded by his decision-making processes (or lack thereof), his inability to brief without excruciatingly detailed notes, and the way he addressed the guys. Oh, that last one still kills me.
See, people lose things and break stuff in aircraft maintenance. It happens and if it's egregious or with ill intent you deal with it through paperwork or pay and grade reductions. Know, however, that the worst possible thing you can do if you screw up is hide it or create an environment where people feel the need to hide it. That's when jets crash and people die.
As with all things, however, there is a balance. You don't want to hammer folks for certain infractions, since this will result in sweeping things under the rug, which increases the probability of major malfunctions in flight, but you also don't want to let everything slide since you can experience the same outcome (death and damage) through laissez-faire leadership practices.
While this was my going in approach to leadership, and remains the core of my beliefs to this day, I was beside myself when I watched Captain Cockeyes interact with the guys.
There was the instance of him reprimanding an individual in front of his aircraft and aircrew for mistakenly wearing his wedding band. What chapped my ass was that I had told the individual to remove the jewelry with Captain Cockeyes right next to me and when I turned to walk away (with the situation under control and the individual feeling remorseful) Captain Cockeyes got in his face and let him know just what a failure he was. Necessary? I didn't think so.
This situation upset me even more when Captain Cockeyes lost his own wedding band out on the flight line a few days later and drove a temporary stop to operations while we looked for his jewelry.
Just as such minor incidents began to reveal the Captain's management woes we destroyed a multi-million dollar aircraft engine. This major accident quickly brought to light the Captain's true character and motivations for all to dread heading into a four-month long deployment.
But back to the incident.
Captain Cockeyes put me in charge of the investigation (AKA impoundment) and we discovered that the technician missed some key steps. Specifically, he failed to remove the protective covers forward of the intake, which was how one hard plastic protector came to destroy the motor.
The incident occurred at the end of a long shift and the technician didn't have a history of discipline or poor behavior. In fact, he was in the process of applying for a recruiter job. He was going to be the face of the USAF.
I pled my case for some leniency, but he still had to pay 1% of the total damage. Ok, fair.
Then Captain Cockeyes decided to commit the gravest of leadership sins: punishing the individual in public.
Specifically, he took the opportunity to lay claim that the engine incident caused unnecessary duress to the unit and myself since we had to devote time and energy and effort to the investigation. He did this during a mass roll call and went on to state the overall damage costs and infractions that led to the incident.
Now I am all for incident and QA cross-tell, but not in a way that creates an environment where individuals are afraid to admit a wrongdoing since they might be chastised in front of their subordinates and peers.
So when the Captain turned the roll call over to me I felt I had no choice but to speak my mind and do exactly what he had done.
I'll never remember my exact words, but I think they suggested that I was fine with the time and effort I devoted to the investigation because no one was killed or maimed or injured. Something like that anyway.
In hindsight, I now see this incident as the beginning of my undoing. I broke my own rule and undermined the Captain in public because I felt I had no other recourse. I continued to be somewhat disrespectful and immature in my dealings with him all while simultaneously building rapport with the guys.
To wit, I do not regret what I said so much as the door that it reopened. I had always found myself on the edge of being disrespectful (I can think back to a lot of examples in high school) and was even called a rebel without a cause before my Academy days. This incident simply allowed the monster to come back out just in time for me to encounter Major Tormentor.
That's almost precisely when I realized I was really out of luck. Like, really. Thanks Vegas.
NOTE: Vegas was definitely a defining experience for me in more ways than the aforementioned passage suggests. I am, in hindsight, irritated with how I handled the situation, but I have to remember that I was still a lieutenant with 14 months of operational experience. I was very green and very reliant on my instincts, which I still think serve me well.
At the end of the TDY I was pleasantly surprised to receive an amazing gift from the guys that I will forever covet. The best part of the gift, however, took place on the ride back to lodging when, one-on-one with Captain Cockeyes, he said to me, "I would've gotten something like that, but I had to be the bad guy."
And here I thought I'd been tough on guy. NOPE!
Forever indebted to the 494th.
