Studies in Command-2: Gen. Ann E. Dunwoody

A woman crashes through the brass ceiling

The Army System vs. Private Industry
What's remarkable about the Army is a promotion and mentoring system that should be adopted by American business.

When you join the Army—as a humble recruit or a plebe at West Point—you start at the bottom of the food chain. After basic training, you report for duty somewhere. Above you are men and women who teach you skills. They started out just like you and were taught by those above them. When you're promoted, you're put in charge of those who came after you and teach them what you know. Meanwhile, you're learning more about your craft from those over you. The military mentoring system is very precise and continues as you move up the ranks—all the way to general officers. 

Nothing like this exists in most American businesses.

In my first 12 years in business after getting out of the Army in 1960, I had nine jobs—several lasting less than a month. In some cases, I was shown my office—a cubicle with a desk, chair, phone and typewriter—and expected to go to work. Sometimes I would work with a new colleague to see how the job was to be done and who in the company to see about getting this or that implemented. At other places, I was handed a men’s room key, a list of names and phone numbers, and told to get started.

I've heard that Procter & Gamble has a magnificent system for training new employees. The newbies not only learn the specifics of the job for which they're hired, but also the corporate culture, philosophy and history of its business going back to its founding in 1837 by William Procter and James Gamble.

For every P&G, there must be a thousand companies—especially smaller companies run by autocratic, horrendously overworked executives—that take new employees, throw them against the wall and hope some stick. A large percentage of new hires are set up for failure from day one. The result: Tens of thousands of dollars are lost in the hiring process and millions more wasted in lost opportunities.

Those who survive the pigeonholing have basically a single skill and little interest or tolerance of other areas of the organization.

“Whoever knows only one direct marketing skill,” freelancer Martin Gross once wrote me, “whether it’s art direction, copywriting or list management, does not even know that properly.”

I believe this applies to any industry, any organization. Look at the mess when bean counters make marketing decisions, or when CEOs who came up through sales start critiquing direct mail packages or making media selections.

Gen. Ann Dunwoody is multifaceted. In the course of her 33-year career, Dunwoody—like all officers in the U.S. military—was moved into line jobs and desk jobs around the country and the world. She has jumped out of airplanes, was a parachute officer in Operation Desert Shield, earned two Masters of Science degrees, and held myriad commands throughout the Army.

Army personnel are soldiers first and foremost.

Ann E. Dunwoody, the Ultimate Role Model
I believe capable women can do anything that capable men can do and should not only get equal opportunity, but also equal pay. So it was with great pleasure that I watched the promotion ceremony and swearing in of Ann Dunwoody as the Army’s first female four-star general on C-SPAN.

“This afternoon, [Ann Dunwoody] will take the reins of Army Materiel Command—one of our largest commands and a Fortune 100-sized organization with almost 130,000 men and women scattered across the globe in about 150 different locations,” said Chief of Staff Gen. George Casey in his introduction.

What is Gen. Dunwoody in charge of? The motto of her organization: “If a soldier shoots it, drives it, flies it, wears it, communicates with it or eats it—AMC provides it.”

Following short speeches by Secretary of Defense Robert Gates and Gen. Casey, the four stars were pinned on Gen. Dunwoody’s shoulders by Gen. Casey and her big, bald-headed bear of a husband of 19 years, Col. Craig Brotchie, USAF (retired). After being sworn in, she stepped to the podium and addressed the standing-room only assemblage that included her 89-year-old father, a large contingent of family from all over the country and a “who’s who” of the U.S. Army.

Ann Dunwoody radiates competence and enthusiasm. It's clear she's at ease in her own skin, and she can be very funny. A sampling of her remarks that drew no less than four standing ovations:

As you heard, dad's a West Point class of 1943; and his dad, Halsey, was West Point class of 1905; and his granddad, Henry, was West Point class of 1866. Now you understand why people think I have olive drab blood. As Gen. Casey said, my dad was wounded both in World War II and Korean War, and was the recipient of two Purple Hearts, and recognized for valor with a Distinguished Service Cross. When people talk to him about his two Purple Hearts, he's quick to say he was just a slow learner. But we all know better. And dad, I'm grateful for this opportunity to say thanks for your service to our nation and for instilling in me the timeless values of integrity, courage, and sense of values. And I know most of my success is founded in what I learned from you as a dad, as a patriot, and as a soldier.

There is no one more surprised than I, except of course my husband. You know what they say—behind every successful woman, there’s an astonished man.

But my husband, Craig, is the reason I'm still here. I met Craig 21 years ago when we were students at CGSC [Command and General Staff School], and for those of you who know Craig, you know we did not meet in the library.

It’s as overwhelming as it is humbling, especially for somebody who thought fifth grade was the best three years of her life.

I never grew up in an environment where I even heard of the words “glass ceiling.” You could always be anything you wanted to be if you worked hard, and so I never felt constrained. I never felt like there were limitations on what I could do.

I joined the Army right out of college. I got a direct commission as a Second Lieutenant with a two-year commitment. The offer was too good to refuse. They paid me 500 dollars a month during my senior year in college, and they sent me to Airborne School. I couldn't believe they were going to pay me to jump out of airplanes.

This promotion has taken me back in time like no other event in my entire life. And I didn't appreciate the enormity of the events until tidal waves of cards, letters, and e-mails started coming my way. And I've heard from men and women, from every branch of service, from every region of our country, and every corner of the world. I've heard from moms and dads who see this promotion as a beacon of hope for their own daughters and affirmation that anything is possible through hard work and commitment. And I've heard from women veterans of all wars, many who just wanted to say congratulations; some who just wanted to say thanks; and still others who just wanted to say they were so happy this day had finally come.

The next day, she held a press conference. Instead of marching up to the podium to take questions, she came down into the audience and personally greeted each member of the media with a handshake and a smile.

Another Woman Executive
While watching Gen. Dunwoody in action, I thought of another high-powered woman executive, Carly Fiorina, former president of Hewlett-Packard, who most recently made headlines as adviser to John McCain’s presidential campaign.

Where Ann Dunwoody’s Army pay is roughly $212,000 a year, the flashy, fast-talking Fiorina’s 2004 package at Hewlett-Packard was $3.1 million. When she was fired, Fiorina’s golden parachute was $42 million, while stockholders took a beating.

It's fascinating to compare Ann Dunwoody’s public persona with that of Carly Fiorina’s.

Below is a series of hyperlinks to Ann Dunwoody—her promotion ceremony and press conference—and another to Carly Fiorina telling Andrea Mitchell of NBC that neither John McCain nor Sarah Palin nor Barack Obama nor Joe Biden were competent to run a major corporation.

McCain instantly fired Fiorina.

On the surface, which of these two is worth $3 million a year and a $42 million parting gift?

“Even though I thought I was only coming in the Army for two years,” Gen. Dunwoody told her audience, “I now know from the day I first donned my uniform, soldiering is all I ever wanted to do.”