My Mentor, Friend and First Civilian Boss

by Phil Rowe


After years of aircrew duty in bombers, fighters and trainers, including a combat tour in Vietnam, I found myself in the fascinating world of Air Force research and development. My assignment was to help in the design and development of the B-1A manned strategic bomber, most especially its avionics systems. The prospects of working on the cutting edge of technology and to contribute to the most advanced airplane of its time, absolutely fascinated me. I was then a brand new lieutenant colonel.

My job interview with the silver-haired Paul Hockman, a GS-15 civil servant and Director of Avionics Engineering in the B-1 System Program Office (SPO), went well. Hockman was a 30-year veteran of many R&D programs at Wright-Patterson AFB, Ohio and badly needed an engineer with flight experience to augment his staff. The fact that I had flown in Strategic Air Command's B-52's and B-58's, as well as having recent R&D and flight test experience, proved to be the determinant to my selection. The "customer", Strategic Air Command (SAC), played a major role in defining system performance requirements, so it was important to the SPO to have a technical person with knowledge of strategic bomber operations.

This became the first time in my career to have a civilian boss, a non-military man who would write my efficiency reports and literally hold my career and future promotion prospects in his hands. Only that factor gave me any uneasiness about the assignment. Everything else about the job, the excitement of working on America's newest bomber, and becoming involved with the aerospace industry, made me certain it was the right move.

I should not have worried, for if I'd gone shopping for a boss, military or civilian, I could not have picked a finer one. Mr. Hockman, Paul, not only became my boss, he became a close friend and a terrific mentor.

Paul's management style was one of letting his people take on all the work and responsibility they could handle, even if they thought they were not up to the task. He encouraged original thought without being critical. And he stood ready at any time to advise and help without making people feel stupid or inadequate. He coached without over-supervising. And he let you learn from mistakes without letting you make big, expensive ones. His only absolute rule was that he be kept informed of progress, problems and your work-arounds to overcome difficulties.

Paul's knowledge of the R&D process was great. And he knew practically everybody in both government and industry involved with avionics systems. Traveling with him on business trips was an education. His ability to probe contractors for the "real" story about the status of advanced developments and how systems were progressing was amazing. The "silver fox", as we often called him, was savvy, smart and thoroughly professional. What a wonderful experience it was to work with and for him.

I was a novice in the military's R&D process, especially the contracting rules and procedures. I had never written a performance specification, a statement of work or defined the interfaces between avionics systems and the airframe, power, cooling or aircraft structure. My learning curve had to be steep. I had to be a fast-learner. So I was delighted when Paul sent me to the Air Force Institute of Technology's school for SPO people, the System Program Management Course taught right on the base.

No sooner had I returned to the office, fresh out of "SPO school" with diploma in hand, than Paul gave me the most challenging assignment of my whole career. I was chosen to be the Technical Chairman for the formal Source Selection Evaluation Board (SSEB) charged with issuing solicitations to the avionics and aerospace industry and then conducting detailed reviews of bids received. The proposed effort was a $100,000,000 contract opportunity for industry. That was an enormous undertaking.

First order of business was to prepare the detailed technical documents defining just what the Air Force wanted for B-1 avionics. Fortunately for me there had been several years of preliminary R&D work done by several major aerospace companies. Concept definition studies had gone on for seven years before award of the airframe and engine efforts to Rockwell International and General Electric, respectively. That may be why the B-1, originally known as the Advanced Manned Strategic Aircraft (AMSA) was informally dubbed " America's Most Studied Aircraft" by old-timers.

The review processes to get the detailed system specifications approved for release to industry, under the strict and formal solicitation rules, took months. Our higher headquarters, SAC, Air Force Logistics Command, the Pentagon and even Congress became heavily involved. Justifying the various performance requirements and development procedures to be imposed upon industry became a full-time job. Boy, was that ever an education for me. Yet through it all, I could count on Paul being there to counsel, advise and encourage my efforts. No one ever had a better teacher and mentor.

We eventually got the Request for Proposals package released and industry eagerly undertook the bidding tasks. Five of the largest corporations, avionics and airframe, responded with bid materials that filled small trucks with documents. Each bid package included several separate parts: technical, management and cost proposals. Every page of each package had to be read, scored against formal criteria and judged in terms of compliance with the government's stated needs and requirements. It was the biggest job I'd ever known. In some respects flying in combat was easier.

Paul Hockman got me through the work with help when I needed it, advice when I asked for it, and wise counsel about how to deal with aggressive and inquisitive contractors, second-guessing headquarters people and demanding Washington inquisitors. That was a job where learning by total immersion became the modus operandi.

A winning contractor was eventually chosen, though not without major re-definitions by Washington of what the "new" requirements had to be. We actually went through the whole exercise twice because of Washington-imposed changes, several "blue ribbon" review committees and numerous "expert" support panels. Boeing Aircraft Company got the job.

The program made good progress for a couple of years. Coordination between Boeing, Rockwell and the Air Force became a full-time job for our office, not to mention keeping numerous interested government agencies and offices apprised of progress, problems and milestones. The B-1 program, including the avionics development efforts, existed in a "fishbowl" environment.

Paul designated me as his deputy and I was proud indeed. Unfortunately, it was shortly thereafter that he took his first real vacation in years, a trip to see the Fall colors in Vermont with his charming wife Roberta. He had a heart attack in a motel along the way and died. That truly outstanding leader, mentor and close friend was gone.

I guess I should add that my initial concerns about a military man having a civilian boss were never a problem. Paul knew well and understood fully the obscure system of military performance reports. He was a skilled wordsmith and knew how the promotion game was played in the Air Force. My written effectiveness reports, prepared by my first civilian boss, were even better than those I'd received from my previous military supervisors.