do not discard that kind of man when the economy pinch
comes and the establishment has to contract. The Reservist, who is
known as a good instructor, is always on the preferred list. In any
period of emergency, such officers move rapidly to the top; there are
always more good jobs than there are good men. Look back over the
lineup of distinguished commanders from World War II! It will be found
that the high percentage of them first attracted notice by _being good
school men_.

Within the services, in all functions related to the passing on of
information, the accent is on "knowing your stuff." The point is
substantial, but not conclusive. It is upon the way that instruction
is delivered rather than upon its contents as such that its moral
worth rests. The pay-off is not in what is said, but in what sinks in.
_A competent instructor will not only teach his men but will increase
his prestige in the act._ There are many inexpressibly dull bores who
know what they're talking about, but still haven't learned how to say
it, because they are contemptuous of the truth that it is the dynamic
flow of knowledge, rather than the static possession of it, which is
the means to power and influence. As technicians, they have their
place. As instructors, they would be better off if they knew only half
as much about their subject, and twice as much about people.

To know where truth lies is not more important than knowing how to
pitch it. Take the average American military audience: what can be
said fairly of its main characteristics? Perhaps this--that it is
moderately reflective; that it is ready to give the untried speaker a
break; that it does not like windiness, bombast or prolonged
moralizing; that it refuses to be bullied; and that it can usually be
won by the light touch and a little appeal to its sporting instinct.
It is the little leavening in the bread which makes all the difference
in its savor and digestibility.

In World War I an American major, name now long forgotten, was given
the task of making the rounds of the cantonments, talking to all
combat formations, and convincing them that the future was bright--no
Boy Scout errand. But wherever he went, morale was lifted by his
words. In substance, what he said was this:

"None of us cares about living with any individual who wants every
break his own way. But when the odds are even, the gamble is worth
any good man's time. So let's look at the proposition. You now have