Wish we all could be similar to Bryan Sims

By Sean Noble

Bryan Sims knew something was a little fishy when his boss told him to move some helicopter equipment one day in 1986.

His superiors at the Corpus Christi, Texas Naval Air Station were asking him to transfer parts from a Huey helicopter to a search-and-rescue copter. It would be a routine job any other day, but the 27-year-old Navy petty officer noticed these particular parts were used.

Really used, in fact—the Huey they were taken from had crashed the previous year, killing three people.

The parts in question were crucial for the operation of the search-and-destroy model, but had never been retested for safety and dependability after the 1985 helicopter crash. Sims saw this, and realized two things were amiss: Navy regulations prohibit the reuse of parts without proper testing, and the parts in question could lead to the loss of more lives if they caused another helicopter to go down.

So Sims did what is unthinkable in the military—he refused to obey his commanders.

For his impudence and subversion of authority, the petty officer was rewarded with two years of harassment by his superiors and an eventual court-martial. Last October, Sims was convicted of lying to superiors, disobeying orders and losing gear. He served a 30-day detention and received a rank reduction before Navy officials began listening to his pleas that the charges against him had been trumped up because of his raising helicopter safety questions.

The officials took a little harder look at the evidence Sims had presented. Now, three months after his conviction, things look a little brighter for Sims. His conviction was reversed, the charges dropped, and his rank and appropriate pay restored to him.

And to make the victory a little sweeter, disciplinary action has been taken against 10 people who worked with Sims at the Corpus Christi station and thought those helicopter parts were “good enough” to pass on.

Eloquently assessing the situation, Vice Adm. Vernon Smith told the vindicated man, “I regret this whole damn thing, Mr. Sims.”

Similar regrettable situations would occur more often, nation- and worldwide, if there were more people like Bryan Sims with the guts and honesty to stand up for what is right.

But what is truly regrettable is the fact that Sims is apparently among the minority today. Too often we read newspaper stories about people like Sims’ 10 associates who are being disciplined now—the bad guys and cover-up artists.

At a nuclear weapons plant in Savannah River, S.C., for example, it has been discovered that the plant’s operator and Energy Department managers have been less than honest about the facilities’ capabilities for years.

The big guys ignored structural flaws and management and maintenance deficiencies at the plant until the situation grew too dangerous to keep under wraps. (They had initially assured the Reagan administration of the plant’s stability.) Three reactors eventually had to be shut down for safety reasons.

And the list of suppressors of the truth is endless. In the situations mentioned, public health and safety were at stake. Other targets were set up in such celebrated cases as Watergate and the Iran-Contra Affair—American integrity and basic democratic principles and ethics.

It is simple to notice a wrong or an untruth. It is much harder to speak out about what you’ve noticed. And this becomes harder yet when speaking out means doing so in opposition to your “superiors.”

Honesty is a precious, hard-to-find commodity, particularly in places where being honest would upset the status quo or draw attention.

Heroes and standard-bearers for the truth might be scarce, but recognizing and standing up for the Bryan Sims we do find could help promote their survival.