My maternal grandfather served in the South Pacific in WWII. One of the stories he shared with us was about being onboard the SS President Coolidge, a passenger liner that had been pressed into service as a troop transport ship. In 1942, the ship struck two US Navy mines off the island of Espiritu Santo, and despite the Captain’s attempt to run her aground, she listed to one side and in about 90 minutes sank.
Grandpa told us how he walked along the corridors below decks repeating the command to “abandon ship.” He said some of the guys brushed him off, saying it was just a drill, or laughing it off as a joke, preferring to finish their card games and whatever else they were doing. But it was “not a drill,” grandpa insisted, and certainly not a joke. Grandpa alerted as many as he could and climbed down the netting to the lifeboats, as ordered. He said at the time he thought some of the men might not have believed the orders and may have lost their lives as a result.
Captain Nelson initially thought the ship would remain on the reef and supplies could be recovered in a few days. As it turned out the miracle of the day was that over 5300 men made it out safely and only two people died. One was a fireman whose post was near where one of the mines exploded. The other was an Army Captain who could not account for a few of his men who were in the infirmary and went back to make sure they were safe. After rescuing them, he was trapped as the ship slid under the water.
The incident was investigated thoroughly, and, in the end, the ship’s Captain was acquitted of all charges. It turned out that the Captain was not apprised of the location of “friendly” mines and because those higher up the chain-of-command believed he had this information; the SS President Coolidge was not provided with a pilot boat. Simple mistakes cost the lives of two good men and the use of a 650-foot transport vessel for the remainder of the war.
It seems to me the sinking of Grandpa’s ride highlights a few important lessons. First, just because information is inconvenient or not what we want to hear, doesn’t mean it’s a hoax or “fake news.” Second, sometimes we need to stop second-guessing other people and follow sensible orders. Third, we must resist the temptation to assign blame to those who were given incomplete information yet nevertheless did their best to deal with the situation as it unfolded. And finally, we need to understand that little things matter. Whoever said, “don’t sweat the small stuff,” was only talking about the small annoyances of personal life, not winning a war or sending someone to the moon.
There is an old nursery rhyme:
“For the want of a nail the shoe was lost;
For the want of a shoe the horse was lost;
For the want of a horse the battle was lost;
For the failure of battle the kingdom was lost;—
And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.”
Today is the anniversary of D-Day. I’m reminded of John McCain’s words, “Countries, not just their armies, win wars.” The higher the stakes, the more the details matter, and the more each of us can make a difference. In WWII we learned that when people do their part – plant victory gardens, cooperate with rationing, participate in metal drives, buy war bonds, and volunteer for civil defense – together they can win. Onboard the SS Coolidge, no one stopped to ask anyone’s political party, religion, or nationality. The priorities were clear – save lives and eventually win the war.
In some ways, the stakes are just as high today. Humanity faces multiple existential threats. The question is, what are our priorities? To turn Senator McCain’s quote inside-out, “countries where people fight amongst themselves can never win.” My proposition is simple. Each of us can try to “stick it to the other side” and lose, or we can work together and win.
MurrayWorks 