Perhaps, history is seen too often only by what we remember it to be. In that regard, we know the pantheon of our own civil war very well:
- Lee, the saintly knight and gentle warrior;
- Jackson, the lemon-sucking, Calvinist genius;
- McClellan, the immobile (funny a saddle should be named for him);
- Sherman, the vandal (Don'™t ever try to sing "œMarching through Georgia" anywhere along the roads from Atlanta to Savannah.);
- a host of other dandies and cavaliers;
and then there is Grant. Grant - the drunkard, the civilian failure who couldn'™t manage a small store, the dogged butcher who used his superior supplies and numbers to grind down his foe, the President of a highly questionable administration.
The puzzle is that earlier generations, particularly those of the Civil War era revered him. He was even considered for a third term in 1876. How do we match those facts with the history we think we know today? I assumed it was the glory with which the crowd cloaks a victorious general and then I read this book. I finally met General Grant for the first time in this biography. I saw a better, more modern general with a capacity for tactical and strategic vision that was lacking among so many of his colleagues. The victory by the Union, or should I say, by the United States, appeared in this book as more than just a testament to the strength of overwhelming numbers and supplies. In Grant, the U.S. Army found leadership.
Is there a tougher leadership and managerial challenge than leading an army? How do you encourage soldiers to hazard their lives for the greater need of the society? How do you use that leadership and authority over others in ways that treat each soldier'™s life as a resource not to be abused or squandered? I have no hesitation in recommending this book. The lessons to be taken from this biography have application to our own leadership challenges in our offices and in the field.