What I bring to the fight

The day I arrived at my battalion, there was a truck that was hit by a roadside bomb. All three people inside were killed. Even though I didn't know any of them, that's hard to process. Tonight as I was walking to the DFAC for dinner, I was struck by how the Battalion Commander responded. He was calm about the whole thing. He didn't get mad. He realized it was part of his job. I am sure that he knew who these guys were, was genuinely sad, but realized this is war.

I can't help but contrast this with how my XO went out-of-control ballistic when an equipment malfunction caused about three gallons of water that potentially had oil in it to be spilled on a pier next to a dry dock that was empty. If we had spilled more and the drydock was flooded, there was a chance that a few drops of oil may have been in the water that would have gotten into the harbor if we hadn't wiped it up on the pier. During that particular witch-hunt, an obscure shipyard document that no one on my ship had seen said that there was a backup way that would have prevented this. XO ranted, raved, and called the watch officer who hadn't even been up on the pier incompetent and unprofessional.

So what do I bring to this fight. I am supposed to administer one small part of the battalions fight, a big part of which will be tracking the maintenance. I suppose that what I will bring is a hyper anal-retention that is obsessed with procedure and paperwork and easily looses sight of the big picture.

Sorry, battalion. I will do my best to let you keep doing the great job you have been.