o that added waiting
meant extra danger, then only a poltroon would insist on being fed
first. And while an officer wouldn't be expected to pitch a tent, he
would dig his own foxhole, unless he was well up in grade. At that,
there were a few high commanders in World War II who made it a point
of pride to do their own digging from first to last. Greater "freedom
of action," too, can go out the window, for conditions arise,
particularly in war, when freedom of action can not be permitted
anyone except the very top authority. When a general restriction is
clamped down, the officer caught violating it is in more serious
jeopardy than the enlisted offender.

As the entire body of this book is directed toward the consideration
of the fundamental responsibilities in officership, the special
comments in this chapter will relate mainly to propositions not stated
elsewhere.

Though it has been said before, even so, it can be said again: It is a
paramount and overriding responsibility of every officer to take care
of his men before caring for himself. From the frequent and gross
violation of this principle by badly informed or meanly selfish
individuals comes more embarrassment to officer-man relationships than
perhaps from all other causes put together. _It is a cardinal
principle!_ Yet many junior officers do not seem to understand that
steadfast fidelity to it is required, not lip service. "And of this,"
as Admiral Mahan would say, "comes much evil." The loyalty of men
simply cannot be commanded when they become embittered by selfish
action.

Then how deeply does this rule cut? In line of duty, it applies right
down to the hilt! When a command is worn, bruised, and hungry,
officers attend to their men's creature comforts and make sure that
all is going well, before looking to their own needs. If an officer is
on a tour with an enlisted man, he takes care that the man is
accommodated as to food, shelter, medical treatment or other prime
needs, before satisfying his own wants; if that means that the last
meal or the last bed is gone, his duty is to get along the hard way.
If a command is so located that recreational facilities are extremely
limited, and there are not enough to go around, the welfare of the
ranks takes priority over the interests of their commissioned leaders;
in fact, it would be more correct to say that the welfare of men _is_
the prior interest of the officer.

These few concrete illustrations show, in ge