Four Things I Learned from My Uncle Sam

I've recently begun listing off all the lessons I've learned while wearing my country's uniform for more than 20 years. Here's a start:

1. 'LIFE, LIMB, AND EYESIGHT.' EVERYTHING ELSE IS SMALL STUFF.

I wish I'd maintained the clarity and perspective I had after I first deployed. Everything was simple, especially when you applied the criteria used for declaring an "significant event" in the Tactical Operations Center (TOC). Downrange, if a soldier or civilian was at risk of losing life, limb, or eyesight, you had yourself an emergency. It was time to coordinate medevac, move people and equipment, and wake the commander up. Otherwise, it wasn't something to get all spun up about.

It works for parenting, too. Especially after some sort of spill.

2. PLAN BACKWARDS

Here's how backwards planning works: Identify the deadline by which something must happen, then identify in reverse each step required to get there. I once thought this was obvious--until I found myself working on a church committee. The group was headed up by fellow congregant who was a professional "process manager." He was very good at identifying "inputs" and "outputs," and not so very good at setting deadlines. Drove me insane.

The Army teaches you how to avoid the trap of analysis paralysis. State the mission--the who, what, where, when--then, plan to make things happen. Then, make it happen.

3. YOUR TEAM NEEDS MORE TIME THAN YOU (NEED TO) THINK

Also known as the "one-thirds, two-thirds" rule: To optimize their chances of success, your teammates need twice as much time as you will in making the plan. Take one-third of the remaining time for yourself, and allow them two-thirds of the available time for preparation and rehearsal. Give people as much information as you can as early as you can. That way, even if your plans change, they'll be further down the proverbial road than if you had horded information until the last possible moment.

The best plan at the last minute will likely fail, because people need time to make it their own.

4. MAINTAIN NOISE AND LIGHT DISCIPLINE

When we were dating, Household-6 took me on a reunion trip with some former backpacking camp counselors. Given my Army training, I spent whole days freaking out about wearing bright colors, banging metal, and traveling in non-tactical formation. After I figured out that we were more likely to be attacked by a bear than with hand grenades, I was able to lighten up a bit. (Get it? "Lighten"? I crack me up.)

In uniform, however, I still try to minimize noise and light while out in the field--even though I'm probably standing right next to the biggest inflatable structure in the forest, along with enough loud-humming power generators to power a small building. Even given these conditions, I trust that my red-lens flashlight will keep me safe, unheard and unseen.

I am like a ninja that way. A ninja who lives in a circus tent.

More tomorrow!