They are sitting in the big tent. Tanned, tired faces are turned toward David Shani. He is responsible for the training course, the defender of Ibdis, and gives a talk about "leadership." Everyone knows that they will soon be responsible for the lives of hundreds of young men. They all wonder: are we capable of that? Will we be sue-cessful? And if you look at their faces the answer is clear. Yes. They will succeed.
Everyone knew how great was the responsibility that he would have to take after the course finished. We all tried to imagine what an ideal com-mander would be, how he would behave in this or that situation. At night we lay on our beds and discussed this. And slowly we formed an image of a good commander, liked by his men, a leader and friend for them. But who behaves independently in relation to his own superiors. A commander with all the characteristics which distinguish the brigade as a whole.
A long time ago, after the death of Menachem Brotzki in Iraq Suweidan, I wrote a story about the commander who is loved by his men. Now I reformulated this story in an attempt to present my idea of a good commander.
The reprimand
"I don’t know how he does it," said Israel in a voice dripping with envy. "When my people have kitchen duty, they get ill. His wash the dishes and sing. I need three squad leaders to haul my men out of bed in the morning. His men jump up happily, as if they had been dream-ing of going for the morning run. He is a magician!"
"And I’m telling you," company commander Shmuel joined in, "he is stirring the people up. He is spoiling them. Do you know what he did yesterday? At lunchtime he sat with the ordinary soldiers and left the squad leaders alone at the commanders’ table."
Shmuel, the company commander, was getting worked up. He always got excited when he talked about Menashke. And that means that he was always excited when he was in the Officers’ Club. Because when he was there, he never talked about anything else.