A Message from General Rommel

There is a story taught in Army Officer leadership schools about Oberleutnant Erwin Rommel as a junior Commander in World War I. (Rommel is largely considered by Western leadership as Germany’s best General during World War II, though Germany itself lessens his place in history.)

One night, Rommel ordered his unit to ‘dig in’ for the night on the side of a steep hill overlooking an apple orchard valley. The troops weren’t happy about it due to the fatigue of marching all day, the fact that they soon discovered they were digging into somewhat rocky ground, and the general feeling of lack of danger at the moment. As they dug, their disgruntlement was further heightened as another German unit entered the valley below and, directly in sight, prepared to happily bivouac in the orchards without digging in. Nevertheless, in any Army–let alone a German Army–orders are obeyed, and Rommel’s men dug in. Later that night, his men were awakened by the screaming of the other men in the valley who were being ripped apart by artillery fire as the whole area was pounded. Rommel’s unit went relatively unscathed.

On its face, the lesson is simple but powerful: something akin to ‘better safe than sorry’ and ‘always do what is right.’ It was ‘right’ for Rommel to make his men dig in in order for them to be ‘better safe than sorry.’ However, as a former Private doing the digging, and a former Commander giving the orders, I think there is also a deeper lesson here.

I think not about the risk that Rommel was mitigating, but instead about the risk he was taking. He was willing to wake up with his men the next morning in a valley and hillside that had been quiet. It was probable that this would happen. His men would have looked to the valley and seen the other unit luxuriating in wakefulness after a longer and better night’s sleep, and probably enjoying fresh apples for breakfast. It is no small thing for a Commander to risk being seen as wrong, as the unit ‘climate’, often referred to as morale, is a precious and vulnerable commodity. Beyond the Commander’s own ego, he must look to preserve morale (largely influenced by how his men perceive him as a Commander) as a valuable combat tool– a ‘force multiplier’, if you will.

In another context, with less visibly at stake, parents today struggle to make the right decisions for their children, especially their teenagers. Strict implementation of social distancing for teenagers risks disgruntlement, and a perception that their leader is not ‘cool’, or is overreacting and it can be uncomfortable in the household. I say especially teenagers due to the vital role that socializing plays at that age. Fortunately, most teenagers still obey their parents. And those parents must give orders that will keep their children safe, regardless of perception. Parents must be willing to risk that the virus will be less than projected, and that their prior decisions will appear to have been too much. But remember, the lens should be on the moment of the decision, and not the aftermath of that decision. Rommel was right to order his troops to dig in, when he did, regardless. And parents today are right to place their children under strict social distancing and virus prevention rules, regardless. We are indeed at war with the Coronavirus and it is hitting many communities like artillery fire. Dig in.

By the way, many of Rommel’s troops were teenagers.

Snow Globe

Real life has been suspended.  Routine is upended,

a chess board topples pieces to the floor. A snow globe

is shaken, and our streets go dizzy, lonely and cold.

We are at war with the very air.  Numbers and charts

could not make real the fear; it took death

to show us, to tilt the board, to shake the globe.

It took death in our own town, on our own clouded streets. 

We live behind curtains and long for ‘before’,

and it shortens our breath, this knowing, this feeling ̶ ̶

a wolf leaning quietly against every door.