Chapter 70: The Rolex Moment

Note: This chapter is from my upcoming book: Trust-Based Leadership?: Marine Corps Leadership Concepts for Today’s Business Leaders

Chapter 70: The Rolex Moment

When I was a young enlisted Marine, I used to see many of my officers wearing Rolex dive watches. I loved the look of them in the same way that some people favor a certain model of car or boat. I would sometimes ask my lieutenants to let me hold their watches so I could get a closer look at them. One of them once let me wear his watch for a day when I was a DI; I was “profiling” around the area that day, for sure! I promised myself that if I ever achieved my goal of becoming a commissioned officer, I’d buy one as a reward.

In 1982, shortly after becoming an officer, I bought a Rolex Submariner from the PX catalog for $550; the list price was $1,150. My take home pay in 1982 was $425 every two weeks as a prior-enlisted second lieutenant, so this was a significant purchase. I wasn’t married at the time, had no mortgage or other debt, and I knew that I’d probably never again be able to justify spending that kind of money on a watch.

My First “Rolex Moment”

During my Marine career, there were several occasions in which I looked at my watch late at night, noting the time and thinking—or in this example, being convinced—that I may not be alive in the morning.

The first time this happened, my Marines and I were located in a very dangerous area of West Beirut in Lebanon. The Lebanese Civil War was one conducted largely on religious grounds. It essentially pitted Muslims against Christians, as each group and a multitude of sub-groups, militias, etc., jockeyed for power and control. Generally speaking, the city of Beirut was divided into two halves. East Beirut (Christian) and West Beirut (Muslim).

In April of 1983, the US Embassy was destroyed by a suicide bomber who drove a delivery van packed with explosives up to the building’s front doors and detonated a huge, improvised bomb the van was carrying. Sixty-three people were killed and many more were seriously injured. The embassy building itself was rendered unusable and operations were relocated to a group of buildings a short distance away, with the most sensitive embassy functions being conducted inside the British embassy.

Upon arriving in Lebanon in early November after participating in operations in Grenada, I (along with my superb platoon sergeant, Staff Sergeant Mike Marshall) was tasked with leading my reinforced rifle platoon as it guarded the large area in which the various “embassy buildings” were located. My beefed-up platoon now consisted of 104 Marines, most of whom were infantrymen, along with several extra communicators, a cook, extra Navy Corpsmen, and an amphibious tractor platoon led by Staff Sergeant Allan Chase.

That Night

The situation in Beirut had become incredibly volatile and dangerous in early February 1984. The violence had reached a level that many lifelong residents of the city had never previously experienced. These people had become almost desensitized to the violence associated with years of civil war but during this period of time, they realized that things had become worse than ever before.

On February 6, 1984, a battle between rival forces occupying East and West Beirut began. Each side began lobbing artillery and mortar rounds into their opponent’s sector. And they did this with a fury that I will never forget.

During the evening, the area we were located in was getting pounded by artillery and mortar fire. The sound of small arms fire was non-stop and red and green tracer rounds were zipping through the air in all directions. The larger artillery rounds started getting closer to our positions and we could hear them whistling in prior to impacting as close as 50 meters from us on all sides of our perimeter. To use the proper tactical terminology to describe our plight, our defensive positions were now bracketed by the incoming artillery rounds; the more experienced Marines recognized this and knew that it was only a matter of time before the high-explosive projectiles started impacting directly on our positions.

To further complicate the tactical situation, radio contact with the battalion headquarters element located about five miles away was lost. I could not inform my chain of command of the situation, and while my senior leaders were aware that the entire city was in turmoil, they were not aware of the predicament that my Marines and I were facing.

After my leaders and I had done everything we could do from a tactical standpoint, it was simply time for us to hunker down and hope that we wouldn’t get hit by any of the incoming shelling. Marines are taught that “hope is not a battlefield strategy” but, at this moment, it really was all that we had going for us.

At one point, an artillery round hit the building (see black arrow indicating point of impact) that some of my Marines and I were on top of. The round impacted about 20 feet below our rooftop position (see photo). The entire building shook and suffice it to say that amongst the Marines on that rooftop, the “pucker factor” was very high— probably the highest it had ever been for each of us. We were very lucky; just a tad higher and that round would have killed us all.

The artillery and mortar fire seemed to be increasing in volume and I assumed it would continue for another several hours. Large portions of the neighborhoods adjacent to our positions were on fire and the sounds of explosions and small arms fire were almost non-stop.

I remember looking at my watch and it read 11:24 pm.

I thought to myself, “I’m not going to be alive to see the sun rise in the morning.”

At that moment, I wasn’t simply fearful of the risk of being killed, I was convinced that I was going to die. It was time to pray and I did so, while trying to maintain a look of calm and confidence on my face, lest the Marines with me see how worried I was about our chances of survival.

After several minutes, I had made peace with my fate and with God, with the genuine belief that I was about to meet him. To say that I was having a “religious experience” is an understatement.

I wasn’t married at the time and my thoughts drifted toward my family, especially my parents, knowing how hard my death was going to affect them. I can still remember the sensation of having a lump in my throat and feeling as if my body weighed a ton as I laid on the deck of the roof, thinking about what my parents were about to go through. 

But then I felt a sudden sense of peace and calm. As I laid next to a few of my Marines, I thought to myself, “Mike, if your time has come, so be it; at least go out like a Marine leader should—leading. Go see your Marines, because they need to see you right now.”

I hurried down the building’s staircase in total darkness, exited the lobby onto the street, and began running from position to position in the western portion of our sector, trying to time my runs to avoid incoming shells. Thankfully, the incoming artillery barrage had slowed a bit at this point, with perhaps only a few rounds impacting every couple of minutes or so. I stopped at several positions to talk with my Marines and encourage them. I distinctly remember entering a small bunker and seeing one of my young Marines, Private First Class Justin Glymph, who looked at me and said, “Sir, these ******** are trying to kill us!”

“It sure looks like it, Glymph!” I replied. “Keep your head down; I’ll see you later.” I then continued to move from position to position to see and talk with my Marines.

Our best hopes were realized, and we all miraculously survived that night. When morning came, the area adjacent to our perimeter was cloaked in dense smoke from the fires that the shelling had started. Some of the streets just outside of our position had collapsed and several heavily damaged cars were strewn about, with some of them still on fire.

I’ve kept in touch with many of the Marines I served with during this time. Even now, after all of these years, we inevitably end up talking about “that night” whenever we see each other.

And throughout my Marine Corps and business careers, whenever things became stressful and I found myself being a bit aggravated or disappointed, I’d look down at my watch and remember that night and how it felt to be “scared shitless”—knowing that my fate was literally hinging on the hope that an artillery shell or bullet did not have my name on it. Doing so would always quickly ground me in useful perspective. In my mind, I’d tell myself, “This really isn’t that bad. Stop whining and start leading!”

I still have my watch and wear it every day. I don’t ever want to forget the lessons, emotions, and “inner conversations” associated with the several “Rolex Moments” that I was privileged to have and fortunate to survive.

The Lesson

I often share this story when speaking to various groups about leadership, usually at the very end of the training session or seminar. I emphasize to them that as they focus on their professional goals and strive to become good leaders and climb the ladder of success, they will surely face many trials and tribulations.

The lesson I share with them is that while they navigate the many challenges and obstacles along their way, they should never forget that when it’s all said and done, there is nothing more important in one’s life than family and friends. I encourage them to keep their priorities in the proper order and to remain focused on what’s really most important.

Many of my students and clients have already experienced their own Rolex Moments, and I am sure many reading this book have, too. I’ve no doubt that many of their experiences make mine look rather tame by comparison. I think all would agree that it’s not a matter of if you will experience extremely challenging moments during your life, but when.

When a Rolex Moment happens to you, remember to do your duty to the best of your ability and, if possible, ask for the support of the people who love you.

And, as always … Lead by Example!

“When you arise in the morning, think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive—to breathe, to think, to enjoy, to love.” – Marcus Aurelius