Marshall to Ridgway
We like to think of General of the Army George Marshall as a paladin whose career was stellar in its totality. In the interwar “Hump,” however, he had a lackluster time. The period saw him moving from staff position to staff position, with little command time (much to his lamentation). He saw his career sagging as his former subordinates in France were promoted into the general officer ranks ahead of him. Just before he pinned his first star, his career was flashing before his eyes as he raced a biological clock.
Marshall’s competence and mental incisiveness was never in doubt, for sure. But in the “Hump” he found himself frustrated at becoming too much an “axe and hatchet” man for his superiors, and resolved to take a more balance approach to life and work. He encouraged others to do the same, writing to then-Major Matthew Ridgway in 1936:
I am concerned as to whether you have succeeded in relaxing. I know you have enough brains to perform your military duties in a superior fashion but I doubt very few men have, and unfortunately when you burn out a fuse you cannot substitute another twenty minutes later. Seriously, you must cultivate the art of playing and loafing; there is no need for you to demonstrate any further you are an energetic, able workman. So I hope you will utilize the remaining days before the War College opens and the first week or two of the War College course to establish the reputation of being something of a dilettante.1
Ridgway’s Notebook embraces this philosophy in moderation. Thus, this pre-fabricated post is going out as a reminder to our distro list. As for the author, while you are reading this, he will be enjoying a spell of leave under western skies free from the vestiges of electronics, and establishing a (temporary) reputation General Marshall would be proud of.
In other words, no essay this week.
We’ll be back next Saturday to resume our series “Ulysses of the Parachute Infantry,” the history of Ross Carter and the 504th Parachute Infantry.
Bon voyage!
George Marshall to Matthew Ridgway. The Papers of George Catlett Marshall, Volume 1: The Soldierly Spirit, December 1880-June 1939. Johns Hopkins University Press (1981). P. 505.
So true. There is purpose in taking a step down and letting things sink in. The end result will be better, and isn't that what counts?