Vol. 3, No. 3  

The Journal of Leadership Applications

Click here to: return to this issue's Cover Page with links to all articles in this issue.

Your Integrity May Have a Tremendous Impact  --- on You!

by

William A. Cohen, PhD

Touro University International

and

The Institute of Leader Arts

    As a young Air Force lieutenant in 1960, Herb was a new navigator on a B-52 aircrew. Among Herbs responsibilities on this nuclear bomber aircraft was the programming and launch of the two air-to-ground “cruise” missiles nicked named “Hound Dogs.”  The missiles were also new and there were still many problems with them that hadn’t yet been solved. The aircrews in Herb’s squadron that had flown with them got mixed results. Sometimes the missiles hit right on target. More often they weren’t even close.

    Actually, the aircrew really didn’t launch the missiles. That would have been too expensive, as each missile cost millions of dollars. The navigator programmed the missiles while they were flying to the launch point as he would normally do in an actual launch. That took several hours as Herb updated the missile repeatedly and told it’s computers where it was based on data he had gathered from other systems. When about thirty minutes from the target, Herb would put the missile into a “simulated launch” mode.  However, the two missiles never really left the airplane. Herb instructed the pilots to follow a special needle indicator on their consoles. If the needle turned right, the pilots turned the aircraft right. If the needle turned left, they turned the aircraft left. When they did this, the aircraft followed the course to the target according to information in the missile’s computer and inertial guidance system. The airplane followed the same course that the missiles would fly if they had actually been launched.

    Fifteen seconds from the target Herb turned on a tone signal which was broadcast over the radio. On the ground, a Ground Control Intercept or GCI site tracked Herb’s aircraft on radar. At the point where the missile would normally dive into its target, the missile would automatically terminate Herb’s tone signal. The course the missile would take to the ground once it started its final dive was based on predetermined factors. This included the weight of the missile, its shape, etc. This dive into the target on the ground is known as the missile’s ballistics. So plotting the aircraft’s radar track and knowing the missile’s ballistics, when the tone signal stopped, it was easy for the GCI site to calculate where the missile would impact if it had actually been launched. Its accuracy was supposed to be primarily dependent on the accuracy of the information that Herb gave the missile’s computers during the two hours of updating and programming. This was the same way that the aircrews practiced making bomb runs without actually dropping any bombs. The only difference was that the pilots followed a similar needle that was wired to the bombardier’s bombsight.

    These practice runs had a major impact on the crews’ careers in the Air Force. Crews that got good scores got promoted. Those that did not, were held back. And it went that way all the way up the chain of command. Woe to a unit commander, when one of his crews got a “bad bomb,” or now, a “bad missile.” That is, one that was sufficiently off target from where the missile was supposed to hit.

    Herb’s crewmates were all far more experienced than he. His aircraft commander was a lieutenant colonel. Before going to flying school during World War II, he had been a first sergeant. At six foot two inches, he was still tough, and looked the part. His co-pilot was a captain. The electronic warfare officer was also a captain. The senior navigator, who was also the bombardier, was another lieutenant colonel and veteran of World War II. Finally, Herb’s crew had one non-commissioned officer. That was the tail gunner. He was a master sergeant and a Korean War veteran. Herb was a lieutenant and fresh out of flying school. Herb had never been in combat and had never even served on an aircrew.

    Herb’s crew had flown with missiles previously. Sometimes they had been okay, but mostly not. All aircrews were having this experience. However, it hadn’t mattered in penalizing the aircrews because all units were given six months to learn to work with the missiles. So, the bad scores didn’t count. What no one knew at the time was that it was not the aircrews that were causing the problems, but the extreme sensitivity of the missiles and the more complex techniques required by those who maintained and serviced the missiles computer and navigation guidance systems on the ground.

    However, the six months period of learning was up. While on seven day alert, Herb’s aircraft commander called the crew together. “When we fly our first training mission after alert, we have missiles that will actually be graded for the first time,” he said. “We’re not going to debate this. We’re going to cheat to make sure we get good scores. All I want to know from the navigators is how we’re going to do this.”

    Herb was shocked and speechless. (Editorial comment: I had graduated from West Point prior to going in the Air Force and attending flying school. I had been taught that you do not lie, cheat, or steal, or tolerate anyone that does. I had watched classmates who temporarily had a brief lapse and made a false statement, later regret it and turn themselves in for an honor violation. In those days there was only one punishment for an honor violation even if you turned yourself in: separation from the Academy. Thus, these individuals terminated their own careers for the ideal of honor and integrity. This was expected. Honor was considered more important than success, and there was no compromise with it under any circumstances.)

    The senior navigator who was also the bombardier spoke up. “That’s easy. Don’t follow the missile needle. I’ll figure out an adjustment for the ballistics, and I’ll “bomb” the target using my bombsight. All you have to do is follow the bombsight’s needle as we normally do. The tone is the same for the bombsight or the missile. The GCI site will not know that we’re actually bombing the target. It will be easy, and no one will know.”

    Shortly afterwards the Herb’s crew was released from their duties after a week on alert with their aircraft against a sneak nuclear attack. They had three days of crew rest before getting together to plan the mission which would involve the twelve hour flight with the missiles. The mission would include the simulated missile launch, some regular bomb runs, some navigation and bomb runs at low level, an aerial refueling, and a celestial navigation leg.

    The three days were absolute hell for Herb. He was new to the crew and the squadron, but he had heard that this type of cheating was not unusual. Now he was being ordered to do it with the very missiles to which he was entrusted and for which he was responsible. He talked it over with several friends, other young, but more experienced officers. They told him not to rock the boat. They told Herb that this sort of thing was routine and that everybody cheated occasionally. If he didn’t cheat, they said, it would be the end of his career.

    Herb had worked long and hard for his career. He had worked long and hard to enter one of the academies, and with difficulty managed to make it through his four years there. (Editorial comment: Interestingly since I became a navigator and even eventually had developed several navigational devices, and written scientific articles on navigation and space navigation, one of my biggest struggles was with mathematics. I had the lowest math average without having to take a qualifying examination which could have resulted in my own dismissal from the Academy since George Armstrong Custer (of Little Big Horn fame) graduated from West Point in June of 1861).

    Herb had spent a year in navigation school, six months in bombardier school, attended Air Force survival training, and more weeks of B-52 ground and air training. It had been six years altogether, not counting three years he had been in the Reserve Officers Training Corps (ROTC) before that. How could Herb let it all slip away for this one little lie that apparently nobody cared about anyway?

    “But, I had been taught integrity,” said Herb. “I was taught “integrity first,” that this was the essential of being an officer. This lie was contrary to everything I had been taught and believed in.” (Editorial comment: 100% true!).

    When Herb’s crew met to plan the mission, he asked to speak to his aircraft commander privately. As soon as they were alone Herb told him: “If you want to cheat on these missiles, that’s up to you. But get yourself a new navigator, because I’m not going to do it.” Herb’s commander was furious and berated him for quite a long time. Then, he slammed the door to the room and left. Said Herb: “I was plenty scarred, and I thought it was the end of my career.”  (Editorial comment: This is really understated. My tough, combat-experienced lieutenant colonel couldn’t believe that this little pipsqueak, wet-behind-the-ears lieutenant was refusing to obey a direct order, even though an order to cheat in this manner was hardly a legal order. The verbal abuse I got was extensive, and I was left literally shaking in my boots, thinking my hard-worked-for career was at an end. Moreover, since I had been raised in the Air Force, my father also having been an Air Force officer, I knew nothing about anything else and I had no idea what I was going to do to earn a living to support my family. The airlines had long since stopped using navigators, so even this wasn’t an option).

    An hour or so later, Herb’s commander was still angry when he said he wanted to see Herb alone. Once alone he said, “Okay. We’ll do it your way. But those missiles better be reliable.” “I’ll do everything possible to make them so, but I won’t cheat,” answered Herb.

    Herb heard later that this commander told someone, “I don’t know whether Herb’s a good navigator or not, but I trust him. He’s honest and he’s got guts.” (Editorial comment: amazingly, this is also true and was to the credit of my commander, regardless of anything else).

    The missiles were reliable. To this day Herb told me that he didn’t know if he was skilled, lucky, or whether the two very experienced lieutenant colonels had figured out a way to fool their inexperienced young navigator and cheat anyway. But here’s something Herb did know. He knew how far he would go for what he believed to be right. And the answer was: all the way. Herb, who later became a general said: “I believe that knowledge has helped me immensely over the years and I believe that I owe whatever success I have achieved in part to it. In fact, it still affects my thinking today. Had it ended my career then and there, it still would have been worth it for this priceless piece of knowledge about myself.” (Editorial comment: this is also true. I just didn’t doubt myself after this. I don’t mean “and I was pure as the driven snow.” That would be a lie. However, at the time, this was the worse thing that could happen to me. Though I latter flew in combat in Vietnam and the Middle East, nothing I ever did was as hard as refusing to obey a direct order to cheat regardless of the personal consequences to me).

    What does this mean to you today? I’ve heard that “it’s a jungle out there” and that you have to do unethical things because of competition in the marketplace, or because you owe it to your family, or whatever. However, I’ve interviewed a CEO of a major corporation that resigned from top management jobs with two major corporations, one after the other over ethical issues. He had both a wife and two young children. 

    I don’t mean that you should go looking for trouble - but how many battles, companies, campaigns, and even countries and lives would have been saved and been so much better if individuals had maintained integrity and put their honor first?

Click  here to: return to this issue's Cover Page with links to all articles in this issue.