(This is the image from the cover of the program for the Change of Command at the National Maritime Intelligence Integration Office and Office of Naval Intelligence. Sam explained why that was in his remarks: Naval Intelligence knew the fields from which the Kamikazes flew, provided the vectors to intercept them on their course toward the Fleet, and the ships themselves hurled steel into the heavens to stop them. Despite it all, a few got through. It was a demonstration of will and commitment by the pilots to send a message that they would not accept defeat. For the sailors on the flight deck and the gunners in their tubs, it was a moment of fear in a days work: ensuring victory. It was an incredibly moving tribute to all the shipmates who have gone before.)

The Director of the big mapping agency was looking great as she came into the lobby adjacent to the Steny Hoyer Auditorium at the Office of Naval Intelligence out in Suitland, MD. The space is called “Hoyer Foyer,” after the Congressman (and Whip) whose district includes the building and whose influence caused it to be constructed in Maryland.

“Command agrees with you, Tish,” I said. “I have never seen you looking so radiant.”

And she did radiate confidence. Tish is clearly enjoying herself as the first woman to head one of the intelligence community’s Combat Support Agencies. By all reports, her agency is doing well, and will probably weather the storm of the partial shut-down of the government, which I do not understand, nor will. I remember vaguely what it was like 17 years ago, and as a Government worker, I think I worked anyway. But I forget how it all worked out; they say that Speaker Newt took it on the chin and the rebalanced the separation of powers with President Clinton in the ascendance.

Or something. The President’s health care program had melted down and people were angry, which is why Newt was Speaker of the House, though his influence waned considerably after the shut-down. Someone at Willow said they had seen him there, headed for a fine meal with his wife Callista. The last time I saw the former Speaker was on the 6th Floor of the Original Headquarters Building at Langley.

It is funny who you run into in the Capitol of the Free World when you are just out trying to do business. That is not true down in Culpeper, though I admit I did see Carol from Dr. Hauptman’s office. Figure the odds of seeing your dental receptionist in the Culpeper Martin’s grocery store!

I was impressed with the people in the Hoyer Foyer. There were three retired four-stars, and a serving one: the Chief of Naval Operations was supposed to be there- he is my last peer on active duty, which makes you consider exactly what the definition of “middle aged” really is. We were together in the Office of Legislative Affairs, being taught our craft by the legendary secretary-cum-Den-mother Annie.

The vivacious Terry, former Deputy Director, swept in, looking fantastic, and the number of middle aged white guys was impressive. In addition to four four-buttons, there was a brace of three-stars, a host of two and one-stars and several alumni Directors, including the current and former J-2’s of The Joint Staff, and The Greatest Analyst who ever spun an assessment in the darkest days of the Cold War, and a bunch of former ONI Commanders and a legion of middle-aged white guys like me.

The crowd was also filled with women, and most of them not present because of family connections, though there were many, but also because they represented the rising class of leaders, like The Ellens, and many more.

Vice Admiral “Twig” Branch, the newly minted three-star who has the helm as Director of Naval Intelligence- one of his interim titles as the Chief of the Navy’s Corps of Information Dominance. We were cruising the Med in Forrestal when the Wall came down. Waves of emotion swept over me- the lives all connected in the web of conflict and history played out, big time, over the last four decades. It was gracious for him to be there, and he will probably preside on these sorts of ceremonies in the future, but the Navy was sending a message to the community.

Jim Clapper, my old boss at DIA and currently the Big DNI (in addition to being a retired three star), was to make some remarks, since a chunk of the Office of Naval Intelligence has also been designated a component of the national Intel community- a thing called the “National Maritime Intelligence Integration Center.”

There was much more to all this than a simple Change of Command. Four-star Harry Train, former CINCLANT was beaming in the front row, since his daughter Liz, late of the Joint Staff was arriving to take over, ending the unbroken line of middle-aged white guys who have managed ONI since its inception in 1882, making it the oldest continuously operating intelligence organization in the US government.

One of the most remarkable things was the heritage of the officers relinquishing and taking command. Between them, they could cite 130 years of direct Naval service, not counting uncles and cousins.

There was more, of course. I know father-son flag officers are rare, but certainly not unprecedented. I do think Harry and Liz may be the first Father-Daughter combination, and if she continues her record of performance, could be the first four and four. Timing is everything, of course, and there was nothing except Twig’s job available for Sam to rise to as a three-star, and that, based on the politics of the IDC and the availability of directorships of the Combat Support Agencies, could not happen.

Looking around the auditorium, the attendees were the absolute crème de la crème of maritime intelligence, and I marveled at what an honor it was to simply be on the guest list.

Sam had commanded both the acronyms: NMIIO and ONI, “dual hatted,” as the military saying goes, giving him a national and service role in the performance of his duty out in Suitland.

And what a job he had done. It frankly was staggering, both in duration in a career that spanned (with Academy time) fully 37 years of Operational Intelligence, and being in the middle of virtually every crisis the Nation had confronted along the way.

I have posted Sam’s retirement remarks at the Professional Association website. He is the most decorated intelligence officer I have ever seen- you honestly could not say whether or not his choker white blouse featured the Joint Staff Identification Badge there were so many large medals cascading down the left side of his chest.

It reminded me of the portrait of the legendary aviator Admiral Jimmy Holloway, whose decorations were so many that the rows of ribbons pushed his Wings of Gold all the way up to the shoulder seam on his dress blues.

The panoply of Naval Ritual played out, and Jim Clapper commented on it in his remarks, the history lending a formality that had been lacking in his uniformed career in the Air Force: the Official Party was bonged aboard, ruffles and flourishes played, and the Director of National Intelligence, the Chief of Naval Operations, the Director of the NMIIO & ONI, and the Rear Admiral who would relieve him.

(Chief of Naval Operations Jonathan Greenert).

The presence of the CNO was particularly telling. It is clear that the value of the craft of intelligence still means something, and the history and tradition exemplified by our old pal Admiral Mac Showers needs to be preserved and cherished, even if the establishment of the Corps of Information Dominance has created an amalgamation of skills and talents.

I was impressed by the message that Jim and Jon were sending this crowd as the color guard trooped the colors, and the audience was directed to rise and fall with their passing, and Sam delivered the invocation himself.

The ceremony itself had a lot of moving parts, since there was the change of command for the National Office, and then one of the Navy component office, the former reporting to Jim Clapper and the latter to Jon Greenert as the CNO.

Jim, Jon and Liz were gracious and brief in their remarks, and Sam got the lion’s share of the podium as was his due. The relieving officer is supposed to acknowledge friends and family in attendance and keep their remarks pithy and to the point. Liz obliged, but managed to cite some of the reasons the 30th of September were significant in naval (and national) history.

History was the centerpiece of Sam’s concluding remarks. He is a witty and cogent speaker- he made special mention of his wife’s courage in confronting organizational evil, and his mother’s unfailing support. Then he covered his career in compelling couplets, citing the leaders he had served along the way. His early mentors included the legendary Frank Notz, the officer who taught us all how to think in OPINTEL, and use it to act decisively.

From afloat assignments in an E-2 Early Warning Squadron to CAG Air Intelligence Officer to CARGRU EIGHT to FIFTH Fleet N2, with Libya and Lebanon and the Cole disaster to Afghanistan and Iraq as road marks along the way, including the investigation that revealed the identity of the North Korean submarine that sunk the ROK destroyer Cheonan.

The DPRK labeled him a running dog of the international conspiracy, or something, which is a mark of high honor.

Sam was a little emotional as he completed his remarks, and he made us feel exactly the same way. He was the officer at the middle of the toughest trials of his generation, and he held the best traditions for us all along the way.

Then he told Jon he was ready to be piped ashore, and the sideboys posted, and his wife joined him on the stage, as the bell clanged: “Rear Admiral, US Navy, retired and spouse, departing.”

The official party was likewise bonged ashore, the last of them being Liz, whose departure rang: “Maritime Intelligence Integration Office and Office of Naval Intelligence Departing.”

It was a hell of a ceremony- and a hell of a career for Sam. Not bad for a middle-aged guy.

(The National Maritime Intelligence Integration Office and Office of Naval Intelligence.)

Copyright 2013 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com
Twitter: @jayare303Renee Lasche Colorado springs