The lone portrait leans forward at the base of a raised platform where guests and staff take meals in elevated splendor within the Air Force Academy’s glass and aluminum centerpiece, Mitchell Hall. The entire wing appears three times daily before the stern glare of that leathery face. That face, more than any other, is the face of air power ascendant—American air power. It is assurance to a budding generation of military aviation specialists that things of the spirit can transcend career considerations; that nation and honor supersede the narrower traits of group conformity and safety that mark the serviceman’s routine.

William "Billy" Mitchell seems an ironic professional focal point for a military service characterized today by careful managers on the leading edge of American technology. Yet each of the famous architects of the bright legend that spawned an independent U.S. Air Force rode the shock wave of Mitchell’s defiant vision. Henry "Hap" Arnold, Carl "Tooey" Spaatz, Ira C. Eaker—famous disciples of a combat leader whose cashiered career set in motion a triumph he would not live to see. Posthumously he was given the Medal of Honor. In a lucid piece recounting that legacy in detail, army officer Lieutenant Colonel George M. Hall recently wrote of Mitchell: "The individual who responds to the imperatives of honor under circumstances when honor encompasses duty may be tempted to act against the grain of duty when it does not coincide with the same imperatives."¹ Mitchell, in an army uniform, cut across the grain of a tradition that considers "military individualism" a potential spoiler of democracy. Speaking independently, he precipitated an expected reaction by the institutional leadership of the older services.² Professor Stanley Falk, in examining the "apparent incompatibility" of the national predilection for military leaders who are independent heroes while at the same time operatives in a "precise bureaucratic imperative," determined that "individualized values are a threat to the entire range of traditional military norms."³ Mitchell was the upshot, deliberately and quite legitimately dispatched by a military tribunal that recognized him as a threat to its order and stability. Yet he looms large there, where a thousand and more formative minds can collectively consider his compelling gaze and reflect that rugged countenance. What must the enshrinement of such a noble man mean to those still being nurtured on the rudiments of air power? Should they incline to emulate the principled performance of that exemplar? Could they succeed by doing so?

As it fell from Elijah to Elisha, so the mantle of Mitchell passed smoothly to that next generation of airmen. Those witnesses of his banishment to Fort Sam Houston, Texas; his reversion to the rank of colonel; the dramatic court-martial; and then his resignation were ardent personal boosters. They had stood by Billy Mitchell despite threatened careers. Arnold, Spaatz, Eaker, and even Mitchell’s immediate boss, the sagacious General Mason Patrick, backed him fully.⁴ Arnold won five stars. Spaatz and Eaker launched an air war in Europe that finally set the Air Force free. Their mentor’s words became their own words. "Wars will be won or lost with the military capability possessed when war starts," echoed Eaker.⁵ "The nation that hangs its destiny on a false preparation will find itself hopelessly outclassed from the beginning," Mitchell warned long before.⁶ The fruitfulness of that first wave of Mitchell adherents was impressive: the combined bomber offensive was their unique achievement. But how potent is that impulse in the Air Force today?

Success models in the new Air Force tend to be managerial. Caution is in the wind. Everyone knows that courage can boost a career only so high. Robin Olds and Charles "Chuck" Yeager are handy examples of such eclipsed glory. They shone brightly, served rather long, and were quietly dismissed by fiat. They were good, solid heroes who each got a star as Mitchell did, but they went home to intact legends, books, talk, conventions, and memory. Of course they balked at times, but neither one was pressed by honor to lift the banner of national unpreparedness as Billy Mitchell was. Their’s was another calling. They retain useful personal images of immense benefit to a service that must still justify its existence by wielding a glittering sword born up on wings by men of bone and blood.

The apparent dichotomy in thrust of the Air Force leadership ideal is strange. The officer corps is bound by an effectiveness rating system that emphasizes careful husbanding of resources over boldness and values caution over ardent spirit or daring innovation. Individuals occupying officer billets must wonder whether the familiar Mitchell image is a valid behavior model or whether it is a warning that outspokenness will bring swift and sure retribution.

Since Mitchell, no dissenting military leader has suffered or, for that matter, been offered the forum of a public court-martial.⁷ Modern generals are kept in line by a tight infringement of First Amendment freedom of speech rights. Free expression of ideas among military men is understood to disturb civilian control. Major Felix Moran, commenting on the case of Major General John K. Singlaub, USA (Ret), noted: "When civilian supremacy has actually been at stake, administrative actions, such as removal, reassignment, and forced retirement have been taken against the errant officer" in lieu of rigorous enforcement of Article 88, UCMJ, prohibitions of free speech.⁸

The general officer environment now seems so politically precarious that most senior officers must feel wholly submerged in a pervading atmosphere of intimidation. Maureen Mylander examined this situation with bemusement in The Generals: Making It, Military Style. Later she would write, "It took me some time to discover that beneath the facade of ‘supreme power,’ generals themselves act more like frightened little boys than the conspiratorial heavies of Seven Days in May." ⁹ What is it that emasculates modern leadership? Blame an inordinate fear of outspokenness or controversy, other generals with more stars, and civilian bosses who, "even on a whim, can pack a hapless general off to Camp Swampy where, like General Halftrack, he will wait month after month for the message the Pentagon will never send." ¹⁰

Instead of simplifying military life and streamlining military mores, the impact of burgeoning aviation and electronic technologies has brought increasing complexity to the employment of air power. Force application, like the enforcement of discipline, has suffered from "a greater reliance on explanation, expertise, and group consensus"¹¹ as the Air Force moves farther and farther from the dominance of authoritative leadership. Perhaps the trend to less personal, less vivid leadership was inevitable. Yet the old order gives way grudgingly. We want to stick with comfortable images. Small things such as colorful nicknames brand the halcyon days of that past with a certain bright distinction. Why don’t we label modern leaders with affectionate tabs like "Tooey," "Hap," or "Jimmie" Doolittle? What about "Possum" Hansell and "Rosie" O’Donnell?¹² Is it possible the present generation brooks no affection for authority until it proves worthy of admiration in combat? Was it only the infusion of civilian recruits on a massive scale in World War II that boosted informality in such a pronounced way? Nonetheless, they were good times for airmen. Perhaps it is symptomatic that we seem to reverence our leaders less and accuse them of far more distance from reality than they deserve. It may well be true, as Colonel Robert D. Heinl, Jr., observed, that "the uniformed services today are places of agony for the loyal, silent professionals who doggedly hang on and try to keep the ship afloat."¹³ If so, the patient performance of duty that marks the modern hierarchy is most praiseworthy. Still, a Billy Mitchell every now and then would provide just the right flavor to make service life more savory. The large, relatively docile officer corps yearns for a cause célèbre to forge a renewed commitment to air power, amid all the promise those colorful words portends.

The Air Force desperately needs a new Mitchell. Not to do battle with the establishment but to provide a vision for air power’s future. This need surpasses the requirement for another iteration of computer chips and reaches well beyond bean counting exercises to determine new life expectancies for tired airframes. The sobering reality of knee-jerk reactions to successive revelations of Soviet weaponry has benumbed us all. It is time for a visionary—maybe even a prophet. Someone must articulate a direction for the Air Force from within its most vital constituency, the officer corps. We have rested too long on the pen of Ira C. Eaker. He has been the most widely read airman. He spoke when no one else would speak. His scenario for the future was bleak, pending emergence of a will to contend:

One day, over the hot line from Moscow, may come this message to our Commander-In-Chief in the White House. "Mr. President, we order you not to interfere with our operations against Israel. Obviously you will comply, for your own Chiefs of Staff will confirm that we have overwhelming military superiority!" If present conditions continue much longer, no President of the United States will have any option but to comply with that ultimatum, amounting to surrender.¹⁴

General Eaker and company won a costly combat victory providing a place in the sun for air power. Why has the burden of spokesman been thrust on such a valiant standard-bearer for so long? Those who have followed his words in critical editorials over the years may realize now how bold each stroke has been. One should not discount his warnings as being made from the safety of retirement but remember the caution of Maureen Mylander about generals:

Ultimately he will fade into retirement where— under Title 10, Section 888 of the U.S. Code, threat of court-martial and loss of retirement pay—he will be forbidden to use "contemptuous words" in speech or print against the President, Vice-President, Congress, Secretary of Defense, Secretary of a Military Department, Secretary of the Treasury, or the Governor or legislature of any state.¹⁵

Admiring the sagacity and skill of American air power’s foremost spokesman comes easy.

Are all the doors of military opinion sealed by the caution of careerism? The few attempts by officers on active duty to counter corporate-style logic or challenge the incoherencies of civilian control have met dismal fates. One of the most poignant of these was an Air War College commandant’s attempt to examine critically, in a forum ostensibly protecting his remarks with a nonattribution policy, the folly of high-level management of the air war in Vietnam. Sadly, for Major General Jerry D. Page, remarks to a closed professional audience proved just as damning as a letter to a left-wing daily.¹⁶ He nearly disappeared, except for the Pueblo incident, where he emerged briefly as a minor, but positive, actor in that drama. His memory is one that sounds a warning Klaxon to incipient free speakers.

A number of surveys were proffered in the last decade to Air Force Academy graduates electing to depart active duty for the allures of the civilian marketplace. Not the least of their registered complaints involved the integrity of Air Force commanders.¹⁷ Some have suggested these young officers were too easily dismayed by a rigid outlook on officership produced by four years training under the Academy’s Honor Code. Such intimations miss the mark widely. In a time of general adherence to situational ethics, it is not surprising that many commanding officers do succumb to disturbing societal norms that the young academy graduates find abhorrent. Repugnance for unethical behavior is matched, however, by disgust for rampant toadyism. Having sat through all those Walter Cronkite-narrated air power films as "doolies," they expected to find a sense of professional certainty in the real Air Force. Mitchellism had been a daily fare. To discover that those few in the officer corps who most nearly epitomized that ideal were often subjected to close scrutiny and low effectiveness ratings must have provoked a terrific reaction in many of the most idealistic neophytes Their pressing question was not "Why are there so many toadies in the service?" They were far more likely to ask "Where have all the Mitchells gone?" Those who serve know how important a single, galvanizing officer of vision and integrity can be in motivating a person’s career. Many even know a budding Mitchell, or Spaatz, or Eaker But how confident are we that such an officer will survive when the slightest divergence can derail a career? The Air Force must preserve a way to the top that permits room for its prophetic nobility to take a stand, suffer a shoot down, and rise like a Phoenix toward a vision like Mitchell’s. The alternative? No more Mitchells, no more Eakers, no more certain trumpet for air power.

Notes

1. Lieutenant Colonel George M. Hall, USA, "When Honor Conflicts with Duty," Air University Review, September-October 1980, p. 46.

2. Eaker to Kline, 11 March 1981. General Eaker wrote: "The fact is that General Mitchell welcomed the court-martial as it gave additional publicity to his cause, which was, of course, to obtain separate Air Force."

3. Stanley L. Falk, "Individualism and Military Leadership," Air University Review, July-August 1980, p. 97.

4. Lieutenant General Ira C. Eaker, USAF, "Introduction to Some Observations on Air Power," delivered at the Air Force Academy, 19 October 1978.

5. Ibid.

6. William Mitchell, Winged Defense (New York, 1925), p. xv.

7. Alfred F. Hurley, Billy Mitchell: Crusader for Air Power (Indiana University Press, 1975). Hurley quotes Mitchell, who viewed his unprecedented trial as a "necessary cog in the wheel of progress, a requisite step in the modernization and rehabilitation of the national defense of the country," p. 105.

8. Major Felix F. Moran, "Free Speech, the Military, and the National Interest," Air University Review, May-June 1980, p. 109.

9. Maureen Mylander, "Fear of Generals," The Nation, April 12, 1975, p. 429.

10. Ibid.

11. Morris Janowitz, " Prologue to the Second Edition of The Professional Soldier," University of Chicago, Working Paper # 176, p. 12.

12. A marvelous sketch of endearing wartime personalities was compiled in Air Force Times. See Bruce Callander, " The ‘Hap’less Nicknames Up in the Air," Air Force Times, 9 March 1981, p. 20.

13. Colonel Robert D. Heinl, Jr., " The Collapse of Armed Forces," Armed Forces Journal, 7 June 1971, p. 30.

14. Lieutenant General Eaker, " Observations on Air Power."

15. Mylander, p.429.

16. Page to Kline, 20 April 1981. A full description of the impact of the dramatic incident was drafted by Hanson W. Baldwin for the New York Times, January 27, 1967, pp. 1 and 3; February 3, 1967 p. 34 February 7, 1967, p. 25 February 17, 1967, p. 15 . For those without access to the times, see article in U.S. News and World Report, February 6, 1967 p. 8.

17. USAF Academy Alumni Association Graduate Survey, Check-Points, Fall and Winter 1980. Colonel Jock Schwank possesses a detailed compilation of the latest Alumni Association finding. In this regard I suggest interested parties contact the association.

Lieutenant Colonel Timothy E. Kline (USAFA; M.A., Louisiana State University) is Chief, Operations Branch and Fighter Weapons/Tactics, Hurlburt Field, Florida. He was previously assigned to the 18th Tactical Fighter Wing (F-4) and a faculty member at the USAF Academy and Air Command and Staff College. Colonel Kline is a Distinguished Graduate of Air Command and Staff College and Third-prize Winner in the first Ira C. Eaker Essay Competition.

The conclusions and opinions expressed in this document are those of the author cultivated in the freedom of expression, academic environment of Air University. They do not reflect the official position of the U.S. Government, Department of Defense, the United States Air Force or the Air University.

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