Into the Storm (22 page)

With the Iraqi election for a transitional National Assembly scheduled for January 2005, it was imperative that the city be liberated from the insurgency. Planning for the operation was extensive. The Marines built what would later be called an
Iron Mountain
of supplies including food, fuel, ammunition, and spare parts. The mountain of supplies was designed to allow the attack on Fallujah to proceed in spite of expected enemy attacks on the Marines' supply lines.

Several days into the assault, things were not going as expected. The resistance in the eastern part of the city had been much stronger than anticipated. Despite weeks of planning, war gaming, and coordination between attack forces, the assault had been slowed. General Natonski summarized the situation with a comment reminiscent of Joe Louis: “Plans very seldom survive their first contact with the enemy. Fallujah was no different.”

During the planning phase of the operation, General Natonski's Operations Officer—Lieutenant Colonel Joseph L'Etoile and his planning team—had developed an alternate contingency plan. This
Branch Plan
would have the effect of extending the boundaries into the southern portion of the city between two attacking regiments. If necessary, the responsibilities of the unit in heaviest contact with the insurgents could be adjusted. To succeed, however, this change in the attack plan would require clear communication and coordination with large numbers of troops engaged in fierce combat.

While the attack continued, all units were briefed on the new plan. At 7 p.m. on the third day of the battle, the assault shifted smoothly to the new plan. The ability of the attacking units to adjust on the fly was, as General Natonski saw it, similar to a football team's ability to change plays when the quarterback “calls an audible” at the line of scrimmage.

The shift in attack plan worked, and General Natonski's forces successfully secured Fallujah. The city was cleared of insurgents, Al Qaeda retreated, and peace and security were restored to its citizens.
⁸
In our discussions of leadership and teamwork, General Natonski encouraged me to keep in mind a corollary to careful preparation: “Plan and prepare, but be flexible when things change.” He captures the spirit of the concept with the term
Semper Gumby
.

This tongue-in-cheek expression combines the Marine Corps motto of
Semper Fidelis, Always Faithful
, with the character Gumby—a clay figure that can be twisted in many directions. For the Marines,
Semper Gumby
, or
Always Flexible
, gained the victory on the battlefield. It is a valuable concept for any team facing challenges at
The Edge
.

1.  Do you use
Team Checklists
to help keep track of critical tasks and
Mission Critical Principles?

2.  Does your team keep preparing while you're racing? Are you able to prepare for the next assignment while you're completing the current one?

3.  Do you
polish the stove
by ensuring that even small symbolic tasks are completed?

4.  Do you have
wave spotters
on the lookout for new or unexpected challenges?

5.  Are you able to shift smoothly to a new plan if the one you prepared for isn't working? Can you be flexible with a
Semper Gumby
approach to preparation?

 

 

O
ver the course of a long race, sailors will inevitably encounter setbacks. In an instant, a boat can go from leading the fleet to lagging behind. A major reversal can easily discourage the crew and, left unchecked, can deplete the crew's energy. Worse yet, this weakened performance can quickly turn into a downward spiral. As Ed Psaltis notes:

The issue of optimism is a critical aspect of the Hobart race. As in any sporting endeavor, people get tired—both physically and mentally. If you haven't got that spark—something to aim for, some good news to keep in the back of your mind—the team can get demoralized very quickly. When that happens we're not performing at our best.

You have to stay embedded in reality, but I try to keep a positive outlook, because that keeps the crew going when they're cold and hungry and tired. We won't win every race, but if we've got a chance of beating our arch rival, we'll keep at it.
¹

Every crew in the Sydney to Hobart Race would like to be declared the overall race winner—to take home the Tattersall's trophy. Any boat in the starting fleet is in direct competition with every other boat that sails out of Sydney Harbour. And because of the handicap system, every boat has a theoretical chance of winning.

In practice, not every boat is in serious competition for the Tattersall's Cup. Not every crew is willing to commit to the rigorous training, hard work, and physical rigors and discipline it takes to become a truly competitive boat. Some teams see sailing largely as a social event—albeit one that involves sailing hundreds of miles through potentially dangerous water—to enjoy “a quiet little drink” in Hobart at the end of the race.

A team that aspires to triumph at
The Edge
needs to first decide what it means to win. If the goal is winning the Hobart and taking home the Tattersall's trophy—literally or metaphorically—then the team can align around that goal. Alternatively, a team might choose to try to be first in their division—roughly equivalent to competing with teams and organizations of their own size. And if the goal is purely to enjoy the mateship of the journey, then the challenge is defined differently. The only requirement is that the crew complete the race safely and without injury.

An American boat named
Rosebud
won the Tattersall's Cup in 2007. It had been thirty years since an American entry had been declared overall winner, and it was only the third U.S. boat to win in the sixty-three-year history of the race.

Rosebud
has won a number of major ocean races in addition to the Hobart—including the Newport to Bermuda and the Transpacific from Los Angeles to Hawaii. I spoke about the secret of
Rosebud's
success with Malcolm Park, a watch captain who played a key role in the boat's design. Park was filled with ideas about winning races:

For me, the most important thing in building a winning team is that everyone has the same vision of what the team goals are. It's not enough to say I want to win. We all want to win. That doesn't cut it. The question is, what do you want to win? Do you want to win ocean races? Do you want to win buoy races? Do you want to travel internationally? Do you want to stay locally? In our case, there is more than the result we are looking to achieve in specific ocean races like the Hobart Race. It wasn't enough simply to build a boat that would be successful. We wanted to build a class of boats that others would have an interest in.
²

To find and focus on a winning scenario, the first step is to define winning. Only then will the team have a clear shared understanding of their race. With that awareness, the team can plan a strategy for taking home their trophy.

I was once called in to help a senior executive team that was mired in problems. The CEO had strained relations with many members of the team, and a feedback report—consisting of anonymous verbatim comments—painted an extremely grim picture.

There were historical conflicts between key team members. The executives felt isolated from the leadership of their parent company. Some were fatigued, feeling that no matter how well they performed they would always be asked to do more. And there were numerous comments from people who did not feel like they were part of a winning team—they felt like losers.

The level of frustration and sense of hopelessness were more profound than I had ever seen with any senior team. After reading one negative comment after another, I started to get depressed myself. But the paradox was that the team members seemed to have all the ingredients needed to succeed. Individually, many were exceptional. There were some obvious problems that they knew how to solve. They had the potential to become a great team. But they weren't winning.

As part of a two-day team off-site meeting, I shared the story of the
Midnight Rambler
. I described how the crew was always able to identify a scenario by which they could be successful. The scenario didn't necessarily result in their being declared overall winners in any particular race. It could be a scenario by which they could win a bigger contest—for example, the
Blue Water Point Score
series. And it could even mean finishing the race at the end of the pack with the jury-rigged sail, as they did in the '94 Hobart.

The Ramblers' winning scenario didn't even have to be the most likely series of events. This was not about oddsmakers handicapping a horse race or about pundits predicting election results. It was not about using Bayesian statistics in a decision tree to find an option with the highest expected value. It was about giving the crew a reason to fight: a reason to believe that there was a way they could win the race on their own terms and—because of that possibility—to do everything they could to make the boat sail as quickly as possible.

The metaphor resonated with a number of team members. The idea that they needed to find some pathway to victory made sense. They realized that, absent some tangible scenario for winning, it was useless to try. But if they could see a way through the maze, then they were willing to invest time and energy in the race.

With that turning point, the team committed to a number of very specific actions. They agreed to:

 

  Stand behind and support the CEO

  Develop a strategy for dealing with the parent company

  Establish ground rules for operating as a team and working together

  Identify ways of more effectively running meetings, setting agendas, and avoiding dead-end conversations

Perhaps most important, they also committed to sharing the load and taking greater responsibility—rather than bringing every problem to the CEO.

This catalytic moment was a significant milestone for the team. It did not solve every difficulty with the parent company, and it didn't make all internal tensions disappear. But it did enable the team to gather the energy to get their boat upright and to turn in the right direction so that they could make it over the next wave.

Finding a winning scenario served the same purpose for this team as it had for the Ramblers. It gave the executives hope and energy so they could escape the trough of despair and start racing as a team.

In some cases, teams can see only one path to victory. In other situations, when there are multiple options, it makes sense to deliberate. This was the circumstance that the Ramblers found themselves in during the ‘98 Hobart race, as they weighed the odds of sailing into the storm against turning around and running for safety.

In those moments of decision, it makes sense to debate every option, to consider the pros and cons, to express reservations, and to think of everything that can go wrong. But once the decision has been made, distracting thoughts need to be left behind. Everyone needs to focus on the winning scenario with
tunnel vision
.

On the
Midnight Rambler
, each crew member had an individual coping strategy for dealing with distracting thoughts about catastrophe. Arthur Psaltis willed himself out of a state of despair and focused on crew management. Mix Bencsik concentrated on straightening out the boat and passing water to the helmsman. John Whitfeld kept track of the relative percentage of time they had some control over the boat. And Chris Rockell took comfort in the fact they were doing everything they could do to survive the storm. They all stayed focused on what needed to be done to sail the boat and get to Hobart.

In some situations, tunnel vision can be dangerous. When Everest climbers are so focused on reaching the top of the mountain that they refuse to turn around,
summit fever
can be fatal. But in situations where there are no alternatives—as was the case with the Ramblers—tunnel vision was completely adaptive. Everything not directly involved in getting the boat through the waves was peripheral.

High-performing teams need to understand the difference between adaptive tunnel vision and dangerous summit fever. If there are choices, and if a safer option involves turning back, then teams should fight the temptation to go forward. But when a team commits to a course of action, tunnel vision becomes a valuable tool for concentrating on the goal. It is a mindset that enables the team to focus on their winning scenario and to leave distracting thoughts behind.