Pride and professionalism personified

  • Published
  • By Col. Robert Dickmeyer
  • 48th Maintenance Group Commander
ROYAL AIR FORCE LAKENHEATH, England --  Long ago, in a land far, far away, I was given a very valuable lesson about pride and professionalism. I was a brand new second lieutenant and my teacher was a staff sergeant. For the life of me, I can’t remember this fine young warrior’s name, but his actions and attitude about the mission left an indelible impression on me, and I have tried religiously to follow his lead ever since. 

Staff Sgt. Snuffy, for lack of a better name, was a dedicated crew chief on a C-141 Starlifter. He was immensely proud of his aircraft and made sure that everyone knew that 0609 was his baby. I still remember him almost coming to blows with a fellow crew chief that had the poor judgment to refer to 0609 as “sick o’ nine.” Fortunately, cooler heads prevailed but no one ever made that mistake again. 

My lesson took place at Pope Air Force Base, N.C. We had just arrived with four C-141 aircraft and our mission was to spend a week dropping paratroopers from nearby Fort Bragg. As I intently watched preparations for our first launch, I noticed Staff Sgt. Snuffy standing in front of his aircraft. At the bottom of the stairs was a welcome mat. 

At first I was impressed that he went to the effort of “borrowing” a mat from base operations to welcome his Army passengers—that is until the buses showed up with 50 heavily-laden paratroopers. I then watched in amazement as he positioned himself at the base of the stairs and literally ordered each and every paratrooper to wipe their feet before entering his aircraft. 

Rank obviously didn’t matter because even the major leading the procession graciously obliged with a “yes, sir!” and a good boot cleaning. After all 50 jumpers were onboard, Staff Sgt. Snuffy then took the mat back to base operations—until the next sortie. 

Staff Sgt. Snuffy knew dirt and sand could accumulate in the belly of the C-141 and any obstruction of the flapper valves could affect pressurization. But, I’m not so sure that was really his motivation. No, the real reason for his actions was the fact that 0609 was his aircraft, and he wanted to keep it clean. Between sorties, he could be seen cleaning, polishing and wiping down his aircraft, to great lengths to make 0609 the “pride of the fleet.” Yes, Staff Sgt. Snuffy was very proud of his jet, and I couldn’t help but smile every time he borrowed the welcome mat and stood guard at the base of his stairs. 

Now, whenever I give comments at the dedicated crew chief graduation course, I use Staff Sgt. Snuffy as the benchmark of what it means to be a DCC. I encourage them to uphold the ideals and work ethic he demonstrated so many years ago. But it doesn’t take being a DCC on a multi-million dollar aircraft to demonstrate his pride—it can be applied to any and all situations. 

One of my favourite movies is the 1958’s film “No Time for Sergeants.” In the movie, Andy Griffith plays a hillbilly named Private Will Stockdale who just enlisted in the Army. Although extremely naïve about the Army way of life, he displays the same pride and work ethic as Staff Sgt. Snuffy. One of the best scenes in the movie is when Private Stockdale is given the job of cleaning the latrines. 

Taking on the task as a personal challenge, he rigs up a rope system that snaps all the toilet lids to attention when the commanding officer finally comes to inspect. Although a bit eccentric, Private Stockdale’s actions epitomized the axiom, “It is not the size of the task that matters, it is the attitude you take when doing it.” 

Every day, I strive to live up to Staff Sgt. Snuffy’s (and Private Stockdale’s) example, and I challenge everyone to do the same. 

Often the difference between a good job and a great one is only an additional 15 minutes. Take the extra time to make it perfect. Go the extra mile. Stand those toilet seats at attention. Who knows, someone might be watching and in 27 years, they might even write an article on how you taught them one of life’s lessons.