Private Huntsman & General Eisenhower, A D-Day Reflection on Work

Private Ken Huntsman upon graduation from basic  training. 

68 years ago my father-in-law, Ken Huntsman, landed on a hostile beach in Normandy along with 150,000 other members of the Allied Forces. Their mission was to establish multiple beach heads on the French coast from which the eventual march to Germany and the ultimate freedom of Europe would be secured. Planners of the assault expected deaths, casualties and captures amongst the landing force to exceed 50%, but the potential outcome was deemed to be workworthy. 

General Eisenhower, Supreme Commander of the Allied Expeditionary Forces transmitted a message to all members of the force just prior to the invasion, “You are about to embark upon the great crusade, toward which we have striven these many months.” What no one knew then was that General “Ike” carried another note in his pocket, to be used if the outcome were disastrous and it read, “Our landings have failed and I have withdrawn the troops. My decision to attack at this time and place was based on the best information available. The troops, the air and the Navy, did all that bravery could do.  If any blame or fault attaches to the attempt, it is mine alone.”

It is impossible to know who showed greater valor on D-Day; the men who went ashore under heavy machine gun fire and bombardment, scrambling around obstacles and barb wire or General Eisenhower who sent the soldiers ashore knowing that many of those men were going to a certain personal  apocalypse. Privates and Generals all did their parts to secure a single success at great hazard to themselves.

And while the freedom of Europe does not hang on the outcome of the work you do today, the same lessons are true; work is ensouling and creates dignity when:

• Our contribution is critical.
• Our contribution is appreciated.
• We must muster our bravery to storm our "work beach head."
• You believe you are fighting for the benefit of the person on your right and on your left.
• You understand how your contribution fits into the very big, epic picture.
• No person is deemed to be unimportant, based on their rank. Every person counts.

Ken marched from Normandy to Germany. When he returned to the US, to his young bride Lucille and toddler son Ron in Missouri, he bore scars on his soul from his sacrificial service. They were not physical, but they were substantial and they were lifelong.

My wife Kathi likes to share this favorite childhood memory: One afternoon she walked through the bedroom where her father was taking a nap.  He was obviously fast asleep when he spoke these words loudly and clearly, “Hi, I’m Ken Huntsman, Man of the Year!” 

Indeed he was. Oh that we could all awake proclaiming the same of ourselves!

Broken Robin's Egg

Life is at the same moment both beautiful and tragic.  A broken robin’s egg that I spotted during my run today reminded me of that truth.

I spent a portion of my professional life with a great team of people who courageously joined together to launch a new company, then nurtured and grew it spectacularly, then struggled to keep it going during cataclysmic market changes and then ultimately shuttered it.   And while there might be tendency to see any shuttered company as a failed experience, the truth is that it was 8+ years of both beauty and tragedy. It was an experience that those of us who shared it together would not trade for anything, because it was incredibly meaningful.  Together, we built an ensouled workplace.

Meaning is found when we bring together the beauty and tragedy of life, refusing to artificially bifurcate the two and instead view them together in oneness.  Because beauty and tragedy reside together in our work experience, work can be incredibly meaningful.

What does the robin feel when she returns to the nest to find her eggs gone?

When you announce the shuttering of a company, people experience tremendous anguish.  Of course tears are shed, some people nearly hyperventilate and others almost stop breathing and confusion reigns in every head in those first few moments after the bomb is dropped.  And if you have created an ensouled company as we did, the tragedy will seem even greater because what is lost is not merely a paycheck, but also lost are friendships, common vision and you fear, “I will never be lucky enough to work for a company like this again.”

Next year, the robin will carefully build yet another nest.  She will lay her eggs and defend her young from her enemies.  And what encourages me most is to know that she will not have lost her song.  As she stands guard over the new nest, she will sing full-throated above her new joy.

One of my ex-workmates, a senior manager, posted on our Facebook alumni site recently, “I hope I can infuse all the great qualities of our old workplace into my new company.”  Like the robin, the song of ensoulment continues to be sung in new places as our employees build new nests in new workplaces.  Once heard, the song of ensoulment cannot be forgotten.  It continues to be sung full-throated by those who have learned it and they will teach it to others.

People have the power!

I was dreaming in my dreaming 
of an aspect bright and fair 
and my sleeping it was broken 
but my dream it lingered near 
in the form of shining valleys 
where the pure air recognized 
and my senses newly opened 
I awakened to the cry 
that the people / have the power 
to redeem / the work of fools 
upon the meek / the graces shower 
it's decreed / the people rule

-           - Patti Smith and Fred Smith, “People Have The Power”

A very frustrated group of managers was reviewing the annual employee survey on the company’s organizational climate. The message was clear; this was not one of the best places to work. The numbers were so bad, indicating that a soul-killing or two might even have occurred.

It was not for lack of concern. These managers genuinely care about people and the climate of their company. They cared deeply, and that is precisely why these numbers cut to the quick. One year before, they sat in the same room and looked at a better set of numbers on the same survey, swearing then that they’d make improvements.  So now, after making their best efforts for a year, they were at wit’s end.

That is when they admitted they had failed and gave the job of rat killing to others.  They gave people the power.

They formed a team and got out of the way.  Not the kind of team you use so that you can check off the ‘we did something’ box and then ignore the problem forever after. It was the type of team that can really make a difference; full of motivated people representing the various groups of employees quite well. They could choose their own methodology, had authority to make changes, the resources to do the work and the support of the company’s President to back them up if there was resistance.

A year later, all the employees celebrated when the same survey showed they were the best business unit in the corporation.

Why did giving up and giving another group of people responsibility for killing rats work?  Because tending the culture of a company is not the job of the managers only, it is the responsibility of everyone who receives a paycheck from the organization.

“People have the power to redeem the work of fools.”

(To see the original video and hear Patti Smith's "People Have The Power", click here.