Hi Ho! It’s Home from Work He Goes!

North Rim Grand Canyon - photo by JoAnn Sturman

Scott Sturman
fliesinyoureyes.com

One morning about fifteen of us were listening to a lecture at in a mid level aeronautical engineering class, when we were interrupted by the department chairman and his guest, a sandy haired major with a goofy smile and a bunch of combat decorations on his uniform.

“Sorry to barge in like this,” the colonel declared, “but I want to take this opportunity to introduce Major Rick, a new member of the aeronautical engineering department.”

I remember thinking, “Who is this guy?  Probably some fighter pilot who got his master’s degree from a correspondence course, then one of his general officer buddies assigned him here to teach introductory classes.”

Major Rick gave us a big, toothy smile, a couple of guffaws, and a forgettable wise crack about being here.  He did seem like a nice guy, but...... 

When the smoke settled in turned out Mr. Rick was a Naval Academy graduate, who later earned his PhD at Massachusetts Institute of Technology.  Within academic and technical circles he was renown for developing the guidance system for the United States manned space program and the highly accurate and efficient gunnery protocols for the Specter gunships.  Due to the cover’s unconventional appearance, we judged this book badly.

Major Rick was a brilliant intellect, who was accessible to his students, and on more than one occasion invited them to join his family for barbecue and beer when the Colorado weather cooperated.  He was one of the few Air Force officers who understood complex technical and engineering problems and able to determine whether defense contractors were selling the government treasure or garbage.   His expertise saved the Department of Defense millions of dollars.  Although he was promoted to Lt. Colonel shortly after his arrival, the salary paled in comparison to that which he could earn in the private sector.  Money and its trappings meant little to him; he was driven by patriotism and a desire to prevent contractors from cheating the armed services by selling them expensive products that did not function as advertised.

One spring a ferocious snow storm struck the front range of the Rockies.  Traffic came to a standstill, and authorities at the Academy forbade all staff from leaving the base.  If officers or enlisted personnel lived in the outlying community, they were obliged to remain on the Academy premises until the weather improved.  Lt. Colonel Rick struggled with categorical nonsense.  His family was alone in the Black Forest area east of the Academy, and he owned and routinely drove a specialized four wheel drive vehicle, which to hear him tell “could make it to the top of Mt. Everest.”  The weather proved no match, as he drove on roads and off of them to arrive at home without incident.  That was all there was to it, or so he thought.

A few days later when the weather abated and the roads cleared, Rick returned to work and found an Article 15, a form of non judicial punishment, and a letter of reprimand on his desk.  He had disobeyed orders, and evidence of this transgression would be placed in his permanent record.  Even minor offenses play havoc with military career progression, but Rick saw his commander’s response to this minor dalliance as an insult.  He had driven home safely to care for his family at a time when all classes at the Academy were cancelled, and for this non incident he received a blight on his record. 

Rick’s bosses learned too late they should tread carefully when a talented subordinate has options.  Several months later those generous defense industry salaries proved irresistible.  He resigned from the Air Force and found his new bosses couldn’t care less whether he drove home in a snow storm.  He was an adult, and a exceptionally gifted one at that.  In retrospect was that Article 15 worth millions of dollars just to make a point?