Teamwork: Reaching the summit of everyone's success

  • Published
  • By Col. Douglas Howard
  • 60th Inpatient Squadron Commander
TRAVIS AIR FORCE BASE, Calif. --  I have a picture in my office of a friend and I standing on the summit of Mount Rainier in Washington. Three of us friends from high school, had started the trek two days earlier, having climbed 5,000 feet the day before, to begin our "alpine assault" to 10,000 feet.

It was around 1:30 a.m., and very dark. We were roped together about 30 feet apart using headlamps to see the way. About every 1,500 vertical feet, we stopped for a ten-minute break to drink, eat and take care of whatever other business was necessary. At each stop, the climbing guides would poll each of us to see if we could continue on or turn back towards base camp.

At the first break, about five people turned back. All three of us kept climbing. As we crossed another glacier, we heard the frightening sound of a large chunk of ice calve off above us and rumble down the mountain in our direction. Fortunately, it stopped short and we continued on.

The next break point was aptly named "Disappointment Cleaver" and was essentially the make or break point of the climb. You had to assess your physical state and determine if you could complete the ascent, and more importantly the descent, or turn around and head back to base camp. If you continued on from this point and couldn't make it, you could be a significant hazard to your team.

The next break point was above 13,000 feet and it was totally exposed. One of my buddies assessed his abilities and decided to turn back. We had each trained for over a year, and in my estimation, he was the best prepared.

I was stunned by his decision.

We were a team, tied together and relying on each other for safety. The weakest member would still need to be strong enough to hold the rest of the team's weight should any or all of us fall, until rescue arrived. A weaker person would have probably pressed on without regard for others.

Despite my friend's obvious disappointment, his decision was made based on an assessment of his abilities and the effect it could have on the team.

The descent is the most dangerous part of the climb, about a 30 to 40 percent pitch on ice and snow through areas filled with deep, dark crevasses. I was the climber at the back end of the rope and it was my job to watch the others ahead of me. I had to call out if a climber slipped, slam my ice axe into the snow with my shoulder and kick like crazy to make pockets for my crampons to grip the snow. I also had to hope that my teammates heard me and had time to react before they got pulled down.

One of the members of my new team had decided he was going to make it to the summit no matter what. He made it, but he had over-assessed his abilities, and fell twice on the descent, requiring the rest of the team to assume the arrest position. He didn't get injured, but the rest of us were left bruised and breathless with faces full of snow -- twice. 

While I was reminiscing about this experience, it occurred to me that this applies to what we do every day. We work as a team, and depend on each other. When we fall, we know that someone on the rope will keep us from falling too far.

Not all danger can be avoided, but we use risk management principles to minimize danger. Our teammates clearly identify and call out hazards and will take whatever steps necessary to ensure our safety. We assess each other to ensure we aren't overreaching our abilities. Last -- and most important -- we have the fortitude to stop, knowing we can start again after correcting deficiencies.

Here at David Grant USAF Medical Center, we use a "Time Out" before every invasive procedure to make sure everyone is on the same page, and everything is in order. Any member of the team can stop a procedure if a hazard is identified -- regardless of their position or rank on the team.

We encourage hazard reporting and take a non-punitive approach to ensure open lines of communication. We practice communication skills in DGMC's state-of-the-art Simulation Center and apply them in the operating room setting. A safety culture requires diligence and leadership, so every new member of the 60thMedical Group gets a four-hour course on communication and TeamSTEPPS tools.

In the Air Force, the Wingman culture doesn't happen by accident. Training, discipline and leadership are required to make it thrive. Leadership is not always about your position; it's about understanding requirements, coupled with experience and judgment. It is a desire to succeed, and a careful assessment of the situation to minimize hazards.

Success is not always about getting to the top; sometimes others have to finish the journey you started. Pushing the limits may have made us the most powerful air and space force in the world, but teamwork is the real key to our success.

I challenge you to take time to assess the hazards around you, being ever mindful that you may be the biggest one.