Copyright Sydney Morning Herald
I will never forget him.
He was only seven years older than me.
I was nineteen.
He discovered that I’d gone absent without leave, chasing after a girlfriend in Melbourne.
I’d created a dummy in my bed.
When I came back just before reveille, he was waiting for me.
“Do you think this is the behaviour of an officer?” he asked.
Embarrassed, I said “No Sir”.
“You’ve got 14 days confined to barracks. Grow up. Your soldiers need better than that.”
And he marched out of my quarters.
It was a turning point for me.
Captain Peter Schuman MC became my mentor and inspiration.
Without his advice I could easily have fallen by the wayside.
I woke up to what I’d signed up for.
It was no longer about me, but about those I’d have to lead into potential danger.
Decades later I was helping instructors at the SAS Regiment improve their skills in a specialised area when I saw an article in their regimental memorabilia.
It was about how Peter Schuman won his Military Cross in Vietnam as an SAS patrol commander.
I remembered the time when we were training to be platoon commanders for Vietnam.
We were in Taggerty, Victoria and it was cold and sleeting.
We were in jungle gear, and most of us were ill, caused by nearly two weeks in the cold, wearing gear designed for the tropics.
Captain Schuman stayed with us, even though he had double pneumonia, as we found out later.
In 2011 Peter died of a brain tumour.
I’ve never forgotten the core lessons that Peter taught me about leadership – we are there for our people – we stay with them through thick and thin. We defend them and champion them. We are nothing without them.
I tear up sometimes when I think about that.
I get angry when I read about self-serving idiots that are too often appointed or voted as our leaders.
Then I retreat to being determined to be the best I can be.
That’s a long journey that has no end.
