In the wake of the Comprehensive Review of Surface Force Incidents (CR) and the Strategic Readiness Review, there has been much written about stress, fatigue, and suicide, and their effect on operational readiness. There has been some progress in this area, although (in this observer’s opinion) not nearly the ambitious efforts envisioned by the authors of the CR. My lovely wife penned a USNI Blog post last year on the stresses of Navy life that was shared thousands of times and commented on by dozens who shared stories of extreme stress. Many senior leaders chimed in on private email accounts with positive feedback and “well done”—we waited for some public affirmation of these challenges, perhaps a posting of support on the USNI Blog from someone in a leadership position, or an indication that Navy leaders would take on the issue, but none was forthcoming. One poster stated flatly, “people will comment and move on—and nothing will change.”

But something has changed—in the wrong direction. Recently came the news from an acquaintance of the cancellation of the Navy Operational Stress Control (OSC) fleet training initiative, ostensibly because of funding shortfalls, leaving the long-range future of the overall OSC program in grave question. I am long gone from the decision-making process on such matters, but I do have a very strong place in my heart for this team and what they meant to me and my crew while on active duty. As another “people program” falls prey to budgetary constraints and shifting priorities, I want to share what this program meant to me and what signal its demise sends to the Navy.

We all have inflection points, days or events that change the trajectory of our lives—a proposal, promotion, a set of orders. A key date for me was 20 August 2010, and the critical player was Leanne Braddock, then-leader the Navy Operational Stress Control team. Long story short, as commanding officer (CO) of the USS San Jacinto (CG-56) I was having a particularly stressful day as we tried to get a ship of 150 family members under way from Yorktown, and the vessel would not cooperate. I collapsed on the wardroom couch after ordering busses to take them all back to Norfolk, and a woman approached, cautiously at first, and posed a question, “Captain, how are you feeling?” “Not great,” I replied. Then she held out a business card with a rainbow of choices ranging from green to yellow to red. “This is a stress continuum—where do you fall?” I looked closer: “I am depressed and sad—somewhere between yellow and orange.”

“Well,” she replied, “you are in luck. My name is Leanne Braddock and I run the Navy’s Operational Stress Control Team. My son Sam is on your ship and I am along for the cruise. Let’s talk!” Leanne explained the work she did with Navy crews to prepare them for the stress of deployment, and we agreed to set up a training visit for later in the year. It was a meeting that would change the direction of my life forever. That was the meeting that led me to meet Dr. Nina Shattuck of the Naval Postgraduate School, to start using circadian watch rotations, and to become a champion for crew endurance for the past decade. The team trained the crew to positive reviews and were a force multiplier on a long deployment. I personally availed myself of the training when my wife suffered a rather severe accident and I dealt with the guilt of not being able to be there—no emergency leave for the CO!

The Operational Stress Control Team was (still hard to believe I am using past tense) sponsored by the Office of the Chief of Naval Operations that provided seminars, training, and support to the Navy’s seagoing population as they prepared for deployment. A trained, experienced facilitator led the commander and crew through the range of stressors and emotions that they could expect and provided ways to mitigate them. I used them in command of the San Jacinto and as chief of staff for Commander, Naval Surface Forces, to rave reviews. Time and again, commanding officers and sailors across the fleet provided feedback that supported how well OSC supports the culture of excellence and the three core themes: toughness, trust, and connectedness. The dialogue among sailors, leaders, and families contributes to more meaningful communication, conflict resolution, resilience, and problem-solving. Commanding officers reported decreases in suicide-related behavior, alcohol-related incidents, and sexual assault reports as well as reductions in reports of domestic violence. In addition, the fleet feedback from both sailors and their leaders has been overwhelmingly positive. I have seen two flag officer commanders share their stories with the crew and staff—watching as the audience listened intently and then opened up themselves. The OSC team was able to elicit personal stories from leaders that inspired juniors to share and come forward during times of stress, a rare skill that took time to develop, but yielded results. The team was one of the first groups to visit the crews of the USS John S. McCain (DDG-56) and Fitzgerald (DDG-62) after their crew experienced trauma, and other strike group commanders have made positive comments about the program—hopefully they will at some point share their experiences (hint—that’s why there is a USNI Blog!).

As someone who makes a living as a professional trainer/instructor, I have lived the challenge of proving the return on investment of training sailors in terms of monetary savings or increased performance. So many factors influence the outcome, and one cannot control how a student uses the tools, but that should not be used as a reason to take the tools away. Perhaps there is a plan to replace this successful and proven program ; if so, great. But to toss away nine years of experience in a team of caring, dedicated team of 20+ experienced professionals with little or no notice reeks of a near-term bill-payer with no plan at all. Whatever the outcome of the current situation, if nothing else, let’s take a moment to say thank you to that dedicated team of professionals for their service to our sailors.

In a Navy that talks a lot about taking care of its sailors, I can only say that actions speak louder than words. If I am right—the silence is deafening.