Leadership 101: The Awendaw Hump

By W. Thomas Smith Jr.
October 22, 2012

In our ongoing LEADERSHIP 101 series, we’ve addressed thewarrior (competitive) nature inherent in any true leader who hasmastered the art, as well as the importance of the soul (an embracing of our spiritual nature). Remember the five mountains – Body, mind,intuition, emotion, and spirit?

There is also the sacrificial nature of the warrior leader – thewillingness to give of oneself to the point of even the most extremesacrifice – that we find when we combine the warrior’s competitivenature with the development of his spirit. It’s an interestingcombination because the competitive leader wants to win. He wants to win to both achieve the goal set before him and to set the example as aleader. Yet if the leader is spiritually advanced, he is also purelySELFLESS. He has a deep desire to put others first, not necessarilydesiring to achieve the goal for the goal’s sake, but for something much more altruistic.

What we find in such a leader is one who still desires to win on apersonal level, but his motivations for wanting to win are also wrappedup in the responsibility he has to – and feels for – his men.

We’ll get into this in greater detail over the next few pieces in ourseries. But I’d first like to provide an anecdotal illustration of theidea that a truly competitive leader – desiring to achieve a goal forthe goal’s sake – has an equally powerful need to set the example byachieving that goal. He (or she) is also bound by the transcendentallaws of leadership to never quit on his (or her) quest to achieving agoal. And there are things of the spirit he (or she) may draw on so asto never quit in any quest of a goal.

This anecdote – minor as it may seem (and minor it is in the scheme of life) – is what we will refer to as the Awendaw Hump.

THE AWENDAW HUMP

During a recent 25K (15 mile) hump (“hike” for those who have neverserved in a Marine rifle company) jointly conducted with the S.C. StateGuard, The Citadel, a handful of S.C. Army National Guardsmen, and a few U.S. Marines; I found myself – as one of the leaders – in just such asituation.

The hump – wherein each man was loaded-down with 75 pounds of gear onhis back – was made over a concrete-hard, gravely logging road runningthrough a remote stretch of the Francis Marion National Forest near thefishing village of Awendaw, S.C., between Charleston and Georgetown. The exercise’s objective was to deliver that gear to a makeshift forwardoperating base (FOB) at the 7.5-mile mark. Then turn around and walkback. Easy enough, right? Wrong.

THE WEIGHT WAS THE KILLER

Frankly, the distance was nothing. But the distance combined with theload – 75 pounds at a minimum (82 pounds of free weights stuffed in mypack) – was enough to slowly grind an NFL linebacker into the roadunless he was conditioned to carry such. It was a special-operationsload. For perspective, the U.S. Army’s DELTA Force assessment humprequires a 75-pound load, though their distance is far greater.

We all started out briskly. The Marines – being younger and extremelyfit – and the Citadel cadets quickly outpaced everyone else. One of theMarine NCOs just back from an overseas deployment, said to several ofhis men, “Pace yourself, boys. That FOB isn’t going anywhere, and nobody is shooting at us.”

At 53, I was one of the older guys, but had been training for months todo this, and had humped great distances with similar weight as a Marineinfantryman, years earlier.

Nevertheless, and for whatever reason, after about a mile or so, I began developing hot spots on my feet. By the three-mile mark, my feet wereon fire, badly blistered, and frankly a bloody mess. By the fifth mile,my lower back, shoulders, thighs, knees, and calves were suffering; andthe pain in my now-wretched feet was sheer agony.

A young cadet fell out ahead of me. Others, I learned (from theoccasionally passing security vehicle), were dropping out. Most werepressing forward.

NOTHING LEFT

I knew I wouldn’t drop. I had been through worse training evolutions.But there came a point at about the six-mile mark where – in addition to the pain – I simply gave out of gas. There was nothing left in me. Yet I kept putting one foot ahead of the other. I was alone on an isolatedstretch of the road with several participants far ahead, and many whowere far behind me.

I then considered several things.

First – as I learned in a SEALFIT mind-conditioning course I’ve beentaking (taught by friend and retired U.S. Navy SEAL Commander MarkDivine), “You are capable of 20 times more than you think you are.”

Second, I said to myself, “I only need to go another 50 yards before Iwill stop, drink water, and take a one-minute breather [in other words,establish mini-goals to achieve the maximum-goal].”

Third, I was faced with the toughest reality; I have nothing left in me, but because I am a leader (and a Marine with nearly 237 years oftradition sitting on top of that 82-pound pack), I will literally haveto die before I stop.

That’s when I halted in the middle of the road – cicadas chirping in90-degree heat with the brutal Lowcountry humidity, no breeze, no shadefrom the searing sun, raw bloody feet, and a back-punishing field-pack – and I turned to God.

GOD SPEAKS

I remember saying something like: “Please, God, help me. I am not ableto go on, yet I have to. I have no choice whatsoever because I am theleader. Please give me now what I don’t have. In Philippians I’ve read,‘I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.’ And as I’veread in Mark, ‘I believe [You can help me]. Help my unbelief.’”
 
Had I not been developing spiritually over the past year – as I had been preparing physically – I doubt I would have heard God’s still, quiet,inaudible voice whispering through the heat and the pain. But I did. Itook another step, then another, and He told me to “Go on.”

Rounding a bend, I saw two other men ahead, Sgt. Maj. Bob Dandrea andSgt. Maj. Mark Freeman. They had stopped to drink, which enabled me tocatch up. And from there – though still agonizingly tough – the companyof these two men (and Dandrea’s sharp wit and humor) not only made itbearable to the finish line, but washed away the physical reality that I had nothing left.

“Boy this road seems endless,” I said, to which the Sgt. Maj. quipped in his Brooklyn brogue, “What is this ‘endless’ bit, sir? Am I gonna haveto carry you.” We all started laughing. The physical pain didn’tdiminish, but now with laughter there was sunlight and an infusion ofjust enough energy to finish the hump.

We’re going to look more closely at the relationship between the warrior (competitive) nature of the leader and the importance of the leader’sspiritual nature as the series continues. Previous Leadership 101 pieces are available here [http://uswriter.wordpress.com/about]. If you have questions or suggestions, I’m at [email protected].

 
– W. Thomas Smith Jr. is a former U.S. Marine rifle-squad leader and counterterrorism instructor who writes about military/defense issuesand has covered war in Eastern Europe and the Middle East. He directsthe U.S. Counterterrorism Advisory Team. He is a field-grade officer inthe S.C. Military Dept. He is the author of six books, a New York Timesbestselling editor, and his articles appear in a variety ofpublications. Smith’s website is http://uswriter.com.