The Ones We Almost Missed: Four Overlooked Leaders Who Challenge The Ideas Of Talent
By Seth Bush
There is a tendency, a human tendency, to embrace and value conformity and, in turn, complacency. After all, what’s good for the goose is what’s good for the gander, as the saying goes. But history teaches us that’s not always the case. In organizations and institutions that are responsible for tasks that can mean the difference between life and death, complacency has catastrophic consequences.
Every group develops an identity of what success looks like. The right backgrounds, the right education, the right assignments, and the right way of talking. They base these ideas of virtue on past instances of success and highlight them as imperative for emulation. The Army has a long and storied history of success. After all, if it didn’t, I might not be writing this in English. But it also has a history of failures that are quickly swept under the rug. Those failures can almost without exception be traced back to one simple thing: complacency. The idea that what worked before will work again, and it usually does, until it doesn’t.
Along with that behavior comes a deep mistrust of those who are different—people who challenge the status quo or act outside it. What makes matters worse is when those people are successful. Others might be tempted to copy them, and then where would that leave the men and women who choose the standard and time-honored path? Without a job and without their accolades. But the real danger isn’t the disruptors; they’ll never be enough to break down the well-established order of things. The true danger occurs when institutions start to believe that familiarity breeds competence.
When armies subscribe to a rigid system that demands conformity for its own sake and promotes those who can only follow the rules and do what they’re told, disaster quickly follows. War has taught great empires and republics that expecting easy victories and weak enemies is a recipe for their downfall. What happens when those organizations encounter people who don’t fit the mold and buck the system at every opportunity, yet those same people are the very ones needed to save them?
Alex Dumas came from an aristocratic father and an enslaved black mother. Born in Haiti and brought to France to maintain the family legacy. His very existence was an affront to an ancient system that prided itself on pedigree. When the color of his skin denied him a commission that anyone who had the luxury of having been born from inbred but purely French stock could have had, he enlisted. Once the French Revolution broke out, he was quickly elevated in rank by sheer skill and determination. He climbed frozen mountains with rifle in hand and held back hundreds of enemy soldiers as they tried to cross a bridge. Again and again, his courage, determination, and leadership brought victory where it never should’ve existed. But when the fires of the revolution finally died down, Napoleon swept him into obscurity until death came.
John Monash was born into a German-Jewish family in Australia in the late 19th century. He would spend the majority of his adult life pursuing higher education, starting and running an engineering firm, getting admitted to the bar, and working his way up through the militia. He was a man of many talents and constant deliberate effort. While he would fight antisemitism in all of his career endeavors and anti-German fervor as World War I broke out, he disproved all the stereotypes, including those regarding the skills and professionalism of officers in the militia. From brigade commander to corps commander in less than four years and one of the leading architects of combined-arms doctrine, he proved his abilities in every theater from the Dardanelles to Flanders. Professional officers with decades of military experience could not accomplish in years what he did in months, all while being that which they hated most, a militia leader.
Orde Wingate was mad in the truest, most unhinged sense of the word. Born to a deeply religious family in British India, he was raised in England by a father who was a colonel, where he and his siblings were not only homeschooled but kept entirely away from other children. In time, he would attend the Royal Military Academy and become a voracious reader obsessed with hardships and freedom. From the Sudan to Palestine, he would develop guerrilla warfare tactics inspired by the Bible and historical study. By the time World War II broke out, he would develop a commando force of Ethiopian natives led by British officers who would crush the occupying Italian forces in months. Known for his fondness for being nude, for wearing an alarm clock on his wrist, and for a necklace of garlic and onions he’d munch on as he talked, Wingate would surely have been relieved and sent to an asylum if it weren’t for his victories. He was sent to India, where he developed the idea of long-range penetration units, fire bases, and aerial resupply. In the end, it would be a plane crash that ended the mad pioneer before the war’s end.
O.P. Smith was nothing like stereotypical marine. A well-educated man who loved to grow roses and gave up a promising career with Standard Oil to join the Marines at the start of World War I. He attended the École Supérieure de Guerre, French War College, and the Field Officers Course at the US Army Infantry School, then led by LTC George C. Marshall. His extensive education and background as an instructor earned him the nickname “the Professor.” Smith didn’t drink, didn’t use profanity, was married to one woman his whole life, and was known to rarely lose his temper or raise his voice. He would be deeply involved in the planning and execution of amphibious operations in Cape Gloucester, Peleliu, and Okinawa. His greatest achievement was the rescue of entrapped American and ROK forces at the Chosin Reservoir in 1950. Drawing on decades of experience and skill, Smith carefully amassed his division and built supply points and an airfield to evacuate his wounded. He slowed his advance to the point of insubordination, but managed to save almost the entire X Corps. He would finish out his career in the US and then retire to tend his roses.
Each of these men was unconventional in their own way. They had their flaws, some more than others, but they were skilled leaders who inspired confidence in those they led in difficult and what seemed, at times, insurmountable situations. None of these men fit the mold of what their organization should be. Each and every institution has a preferred template for success, and that isn’t necessarily a problem. The danger appears when it becomes the only acceptable template, and only those who fit the desired ideals are allowed a seat at the table. These four men sacrificed and persevered in their service to their nations, and they all delivered victories on the battlefield that enabled the continued existence of their nations. However, each faced rejection time and again because of their unconventional demeanor, careers, or habits. They were almost tossed into the dustbin of history because of it. Now more than ever, as new, more complex conflicts and enemies arise, there is a need for those who can think outside the box and operate effectively in diverse and challenging arenas. But the true challenge that lies ahead is not to reward those who simply because they push back against the system. It is to rebuild institutions that are wise enough to recognize not those who refuse to conform, but those who see what others have missed.
About the Author
Seth Bush is a former U.S. Army officer, author, and military-history writer with more than a decade of experience in intelligence, staff operations, and command. His professional development has included the West Point Junior Officer Fellowship, the Special Operations Campaign Artistry Program, and the Strategic Broadening Fellowship.
