Posted on Monday 15 February 2010
Again I am teaching my favorite graduate-level course, Dynamics of Servant Leadership. In this first week, the online discussion kickoff question is “Think of a leader (or leaders) that you consider to be ‘effective.’ No need to name them. What is the measure of their ‘effectiveness’? And what makes them the kind of person you would follow?”
The students have posted some excellent examples, and discussion diverged into who or what defines “effective”, how results are measured, the interplay between charisma, competence and character, all sorts of things.
Right after stepping away from the computer and sitting down to read a history book, I ran across a paragraph that would have been a terrific addition to the online class conversation. It was as if Sergeant Gino Piazza was speaking across the decades, through Halberstam’s pages to me, wanting to be included in the discussion.
I am an enthusiastic supporter of the relevance of voices from history when they speak to our present circumstances, so here it is:
Beahler had learned that one of the keys to successful leadership is knowing an enemy’s strengths as well as his weaknesses. That wisdom had, in the few short weeks they had served together in Korea, helped him earn the respect of his men. “Why are some officers better than others?” one of his squad leaders, Sergeant Gino Piazza, once wondered. “Well, they have a feel for it, they anticipate well and they respond well. They see danger points before they happen, and they’re good with the men. You have a feeling that what they do is not just about themselves and getting promotions and medals but about the men in their command as well. On that scale, [Beahler] was one of the best. One of the very best. We were very lucky to have him.”*
Lieutenant Beahler demonstrated remarkable leadership competence, character and charisma in many ways, during the Battle for Yongsan and the rest of his service in the Korean War… and considerable chutzpah as well, as long as we are alliterating appropriately here– in his stubborn confrontation with Colonel John G. Hill, for example, which saved the lives of many in his own company, resulted in the successful defense of Yongsan, and may have saved the entire city of Pusan from falling to the North Korean Army.
One of my students apologized for using an extended sports analogy in his example of effective leadership. War is an even harsher analogy than sports, but both of them are extremely useful in classes like this because they serve as intensified microcosms of normal life, in which leadership (or lack thereof) is thrown into high contrast.
I sincerely hope I will not have to defend a huddle of huts and rice paddies with two understrength, poorly trained, poorly equipped companies of engineering specialists, against the main force of an overwhelming and determined enemy.
But I also hope that those who witness my own leadership day by day will someday say “We were very lucky to have him.”
(*David Halberstam, The Coldest Winter: America and the Korean War, p.270-276, especially p.274)




What a wonderful celebration! It is such a privilege to be here tonight with you. All the kids on our block have been talking about the party– everyone was either going to come or wished they were coming. This is the place to be tonight.