The testimony of David Petraeus before Congress was televised live, and General John Galvin, a retired four-star, watched it with avid interest and occasional amusement from his home in Atlanta. He was reminded of the first time he had met Petraeus, then a 28-year-old officer who had been recommended to him by a colleague as “the best captain in the division.”
When Galvin was given command of the 24th Infantry Division, at Fort Stewart, in 1981, he loaded his belongings into a trailer at Fort Monroe, in Hampton, Virginia, hitched it to his car, and drove down to the base, outside Savannah. He was met at the gate by his new aide, a whippet-thin, apple-cheeked, fair-haired young man who looked no older than 18. Petraeus took the wheel and drove Galvin to his quarters. The new commander tried to make conversation. He mentioned a few changes that had been on his mind, things he would like to implement with the division “right away.”
Petraeus listened and then said, “Done, sir.”
Galvin assumed that the captain meant he had noted the requests and would soon take care of them. But he wasn’t sure.
“Really?” he asked.
“I took care of those things, sir.”
The general mentioned another item on his agenda.
“Done, sir,” said Petraeus.
Galvin was impressed. He would expect a captain who had commanded a company to have a good grasp of that particular duty, but Petraeus had never commanded at a higher level. How had he managed to anticipate what a new leader might want? Not just anticipate it but have the confidence to act on it without waiting for instruction? In time, the general saw in his young aide a level of competence he had never before encountered.
“And here he is now before Congress, a four-star general himself, and he’s sitting on the edge of the chair leaning slightly forward, and they talk and talk and talk, and then he says, in effect, ‘Done, sir,’” says Galvin. “See, David Petraeus listens. He listens so intently that he slowly and subtly begins to dominate the conversation, even if the other person is the one talking. Before long they realize that he is out in front of them. He finds ways of letting them know—not with impatience but with earnest efficiency. You saw him doing that with those senators. He would listen for 10 minutes and then give back a three-sentence summary of what they just said. What I kept hearing was that young captain telling me, ‘Done, sir.
