Something about veterans that bothers me is how widely and freely some share their war stories. A funny story here and there is fine. A story about someone else’s heroism is great. But all too often the stories smack of vanity and end with some self-aggrandizing point. I have also been guilty of this myself. After my first deployment, I moved from a rifle platoon to weapons company. When I arrived, I shared stories of my platoon’s firefights and other action too freely with the officers in my new company. Another officer in my new company—we’ll call him Michael—did not. After about a week, I noticed that he was taking the high road, and literally walked away from me and the others sharing stories. At one point, one of Michael’s other lieutenant buddies started making fun of me behind my back. But Michael steadfastly refused to participate in the storytelling and, to my knowledge, did not engage in the backstabbing.

After hearing that another officer was talking poorly behind my back, I tried to table my anger and instead listened to the criticism. While I think the other lieutenant misunderstood me and had his own anger issues, I recognized some truth in his talk. So I decided to stop. For some the paste was out of the tube (there’s a redemption story in their too I will share someday) and I would never be good-to-go, but buttoning my lips was the best decision ever. I realized that some of my stories were not based in some higher calling like learning about Taliban tactics, improving as warfighters, or even humor. Instead there was a kernel of me bragging in them. That was tough to admit.

So when I recently read Steven Pressfield’s Gates of Fire for the first time since leaving the Marine Corps, a particular part jumped out at me. It’s just a small, otherwise unimportant part of the book, but its lessons I’ve learned firsthand. In the scene, Xeones sees the lurid scar across his Spartan master’s brow. Dienekes—the Spartan master—notices Xeones’ curiosity. Dienekes laughs and then starts telling the scar’s story. Then he pauses and takes a moment to reflect. Dienekes debates if retelling the story would constitute vanity. No doubt, the narrator leads the reader to believe, there would be a braggadocios aspect to the story. Dienekes thinks through whether that negative aspect outweighs the positives of recounting the story. After proper self-reflection, Dienekes tells Xeones the story because Dienekes determines the story held some “element of instruction” that superseded the potential vanity.

For the leader, or anyone, the message is clear: do not tell stories in an attempt to be held in higher esteem. Only share a story after proper self-reflection and so long as the story contains some superseding lesson or moral.

In this case, Dienekes told his wound’s story to parlay it into an explanation of his family to grow closer to his squire Xeones. The story contained great violence and showed Dienekes and his brother’s great courage, but that was not the story’s point. The story revealed parts of Dienekes’ family’s interworkings and probably ingratiated Xeones more.

For the young military (or business) leader: real, meaningful testaments to a person aren’t those where he tells others. The unprompted accolades or praise you receive from others matter much more than those where you primed the pump. Let the stories of your successes simmer. Let people talk about them while they notice you never bring them up. Don’t ask the Marines in your platoon how their three-mile run times were if there’s even a shred of you asking because you hope they will ask you your time. Let the word of your perfect night ambush percolate throughout the battalion. Don’t whore the story out to anyone who will listen.

And to you, my veteran friends, endeavor not to spread stories of your service to curry favor in your life. Other than sharing stories with your wives, family, and truly dear friends, there is no reason to be telling stories. Should you share a story, ensure there’s a greater “element of instruction” if the story brings the slightest positive light to your actions.

In Gates of Fire, another character, the exceptionally brave and handsome Polynikes, gave Dienkes’ mentee a particularly bad verbal tongue lashing after some infraction. After the lashing, Dienkes confronted Polynikes. When questioned, Polynikes admitted his belief that glory the finest virtue of a fighting man.

After the pair argued, Dienekes finished by telling Polynikes:

“My wish for you, [Polynikes], is that you survive as many battles in the flesh as you have already fought in your imagination. Perhaps then you will acquire the humility of a man and bear yourself no longer as the demigod you presume yourself to be.”

As Dienekes did, the lieutenant talking poorly about me behind my back (no matter that he was generally correct about the substance of his complaints) should have approached me and expressed his concerns. Instead he undermined me to the new officers that joined our battalion before our second deployment. After I confronted this lieutenant, he shut up. For the next year and during a second Afghanistan deployment, I worked with the new officers who’d joined the battalion. When I left the battalion, all those officers publicly professed during my informal goodbye party that the backstabbing officer had poisoned their initial impressions of me. However, they told me, working with a newly-humbled me for a year, they could not trust the backstabbing lieutenant’s opinions any longer because he’d been so wrong about me. In undermining me, the backstabbing lieutenant actually undermined himself. And even Michael could have done better. While he is the best actor of the story, he should have brokered a sit-down, face-to-face talk between me and the other lieutenant.

As veterans, we should strive to be like Dienekes: self-reflect before sharing war stories. Ask yourself why you want to tell the story. If the story reflects highly on you, only tell the story for a meaningful reason. And hold others accountable, face-to-face, when they aren’t living up to this virtue.

Purchase Gates of Fire here. Also check the author’s web site at stevenpressfield.com. One of my favorite author sites.