Articles and links for the Military Professional

[Bill]

Thanx Sir. :)

They failed to keep me the first time when they dangled the E-5 stripes at me too.

I had this burning desire to actually make some money, lol.

I did try to get back in after 9-11(for six stinking months), but the red tape became unbearable. Had a lot to do with me being 33 i think. I hear they've slackened up on that quite a lot in the last year- might explain why enlistment rates are so high right now.

War is a young man's game anyway. I don't even know if my knees could take the infantry anymore.

[Officer of Engineers]

Surprisingly easy but indepth read. This is just the intro, suggest you read the whole thing.


CALL

On Point - The United States Army in Operation Iraqi Freedom

Introduction

Every values-based institution has an image of itself at its purist, most basic level. It is a single mental snapshot--a distillation of all that is good and right. Reaching back to the institution's foundation, it evokes a visceral, emotional response from the members.

For the Army, the self-image is the small squad of infantry, maybe fewer than 10 soldiers, patrolling a hostile and unknown territory--whether jungle, woodland, or urban. The foremost soldier walks on point--the lead; sometimes moving cautiously to develop the situation, other times moving with great speed and purpose in order for the squad to accomplish its mission.

The point man focuses on picking out the path forward--identifying the dangers and opportunities along that path. The compass man, providing direction and guidance, travels behind, responsible for keeping the squad moving toward its objective. Success or failure rests on how well these two soldiers work together. A safe path to nowhere is as useless as a direct route into a fatal ambush. Serving on point is a position of honor, responsibility, and great danger. Only the most trusted, most skilled, most field-wise soldiers earn this responsibility. Selecting a point man is a difficult choice.

Leading, but not alone, the point man moves as part of a vast team of warriors. Above is the Air Force, controlling the skies and attacking ground targets with speed, violence, and purpose. Attacking from overhead and offshore, the Navy brings its considerable capabilities to bear and assures unimpeded supply that comes from undisputed control of the sea. Working alongside the Army, sometimes leading and other times in support, the Marine Corps brings its unique combined-arms team to the fight. The relationship between who leads, follows, and supports changes to accommodate the mission. The crux is that, even when leading, the point man is part of a team, both literally in the squad and among the services.

On Point tells the compelling story of America's Army in OIF and is of interest to a broad audience. However, it aims at a specific audience--soldiers and defense professionals. Within the Army, On Point has two specific goals: to educate soldiers on the conduct of combat operations in OIF and to suggest some preliminary implications for the Army's continued transformation.

Because it focuses on the Army and its role in this ongoing campaign, On Point is not the seminal history of OIF. It unabashedly argues that the Army played a central role in the joint team. Along with its sister services, the Army brought down the Ba'athist regime in decisive ground combat, took the enemy's capital city, destroyed the bulk of the Iraqi army and paramilitary forces in the fields and valleys of the Euphrates River, and liberated the Iraqi people from decades of oppression. Moreover, the Army continues the American presence in Iraq, striving to turn battlefield victories into strategic success.

Despite this deliberate Army point of view, OIF is not an Army victory. OIF demonstrates the maturation of joint concepts and the intent embodied in the Goldwater-Nichols Department of Defense Reorganization Act of 1986. It is a joint victory for the United States and its coalition partners. It is also just one of several campaigns undertaken and ongoing in the Global War on Terrorism.

Finally, as an integral part of the joint team, the American soldier has been on point in securing global, regional, and domestic security. OIF was executed against a backdrop of Army and joint military operations around the world. As American soldiers crossed the border into Iraq, fellow soldiers secured the peace in the Balkans, trained and assisted the Philippine army, executed counternarcotics operations in Central and South America, protected key facilities and infrastructure within the homeland, patrolled alongside an Afghani people liberated from the repressive and threatening Taliban, and conducted a myriad of missions globally in support of the Global War on Terrorism and to further the US national security and interests. Representing American resolve, power, interests, and values, an American soldier stands a post in a foreign land--on point for the nation.

A Campaign of Liberation
While combat operations began on 17 March 2003, preparations for Operation IRAQI FREEDOM began on 1 March 1991--the day after the first Gulf War ended. In the broadest context, OIF marks the latest chapter in the continuous US involvement in the Middle East and Southwest Asia theater. America's national security is directly tied to the region's stability and prosperity. As such, the nation has been applying the elements of national power--diplomacy, information, military action, and economics--to reach this elusive goal. From enforcing sanctions and international inspections, to protecting the Kurds and Muslims, to responding to Iraqi violations of the no-fly zones, the military has been a central element of the US policy toward Iraq since the end of DESERT STORM.

These efforts have supported regional strategy. The combined and coordinated regional presence set the conditions for OIF's military success. The United States ensured its forces had adequate access to the theater and could establish the necessary infrastructure to allow large-unit staging and employment while maintaining the necessary military capability to deter the Iraqi threat. Occasionally, of course, this regional engagement was not as effective as it could have been, as illustrated by Turkey's refusal to allow ground forces to stage for a northern front and NATO members' failure to achieve agreement regarding support for American military action in Iraq. Yet, commanders demonstrated unprecedented flexibility and agility in adapting to these types of challenges. Without the fruits of the 12-year engagement effort, OIF would have been impossible.

The formal military campaign to liberate Iraq was a four-phase operation. This phased construct recognized that the operation would cross the entire spectrum of conflict, from combat to peace support to humanitarian and security assistance. As such, strategic success would require success in each phase, inextricably linking actions into a campaign that is truly an extension of politics by other means.

The military campaign supported the strategic goal that transcended removing Saddam Hussein and the Ba'athists from power. The strategic goal included establishing a stable, secure, prosperous, peaceful, and democratic Iraqi nation that is a fully functioning member of the community of nations.1 Within this context, the end of major combat operations did not signify the end of combat or operations, just the transition to the next phase of the long-term campaign.


Phase I. Preparation secured regional and international support, degraded the Iraqi regime's ability to resist, established the air bridge and secure lines of communications (LOCs) to the theater, sought to interdict tactical ballistic missiles (TBM) and weapons of mass destruction (WMD), and alerted, deployed, and postured American forces. In short, this phase set the conditions to neutralize Iraqi forces.
Phase II. Shaping the Battlespace included posturing coalition forces to conduct sustained combat operations, beginning initial operations to degrade Iraqi command and control and security forces, and seizing key pieces of terrain. These actions were in addition to the ongoing diplomatic and counter-TBM/WMD operations.
Phase III. Decisive Offensive Operations marked the beginning of conventional combat operations. It included the air campaign, preparatory ground operations, and the attack north to Baghdad. This phase culminated with securing Baghdad and removing Saddam Hussein and the Ba'athist regime from power.
Phase IV. Post Hostilities operations encompass the transition from combat to stability operations and support operations, including humanitarian assistance and reconstruction. Interestingly, planners realized early on that as coalition forces liberated sections of Iraqi territory, operations in those sections would transition to Phase IV while Phase III combat operations continued elsewhere. This `rolling transition' to Phase IV is the hallmark of true full-spectrum operations and is one of the defining characteristics of this campaign. The distance between forces conducting Phase III and Phase IV operations varied from meters to miles, requiring remarkable flexibility, initiative, and maturity of the leaders and soldiers.
The Army: On Point in Operation IRAQI FREEDOM
During the 12 years since DESERT STORM, the Army and the other services attempted to adapt to the post-Cold War era, adopt lessons learned during operations, anticipate changes or trends in the operational environment, and finally to take advantage of technologies that could improve combat capability. On Point addresses several skeins of effort in this adaptation and evolution of capability.

For example, soon after Operation DESERT STORM, the Army realized the potential of information-based warfare.2 The Army transformed whole divisions into a digitally linked force capable of waging network-centric warfare, designing and building Force XXI on the hypothesis that digital links would increase the tempo of ground operations and thus the lethality and survivability of ground forces. Blue Force (friendly units) Tracking (BFT), a system that provided commanders a picture of where their subordinate units were and enabled commanders to pass commands and geographical measures, battle command on the move (BCOTM) technology, and the Army Battle Command System (ABCS) enabled the Army to realize that vision in OIF.

To support joint operations and training, the Army established an operations group in the Battle Command Training Program (BCTP) to teach joint doctrine in 1992. The new operations group was intended to bridge the gap in training until a joint training capability could be established. BCTP's Operations Group D remained following formation of the Joint Warfare Training Center to support training Army service components within joint contexts. In the fall of 2002, Operations Group D deployed to Kuwait to support training and then stayed on for the war, in which its soldiers served with distinction on the Combined Forces Land Component Command (CFLCC) staff.

In the decade following DESERT STORM, the Army reorganized its training and rewrote its doctrine to assure that it met its challenges and, when appropriate, led the way for the joint team. Joint doctrine grew rapidly as Joint Forces Command morphed from US Atlantic Command, gaining training and joint doctrinal development responsibilities. Along with the other services, the Army worked to support the development and training of increasingly "joint" capable organizations.

The Army changed its own basic doctrine not only to accommodate joint doctrine, but to accommodate apparent changes in the environment. The Army developed doctrine designed to wage noncontiguous, full-spectrum warfare. Published in June 2001, Army Field Manual 3-0, Operations, reflected an assessment of the operational environment in the years following DESERT STORM based on a body of evidence accumulated in operations and on careful consideration of what future operations might be like. After much study, the Army conceived the contemporary operating environment (COE), which describes the current environment and provides the context for future training and combat developments. The COE possesses complex battlefield environments populated with intelligent and adaptive enemies who seek asymmetric advantages across the battlespace. Training in this environment and operating with the increasingly better-networked systems that supported battle command on the move (BCOTM) allowed the Army to "operationalize" the vision encompassed in FM 3-0. In the COE, the Army estimated what operations in the early 21st century might be like. Combat in Iraq validated that estimate, but also demonstrated that the Army still has work to do in structuring and training to operate in this dynamic operational environment.

The Army also invested enormous effort and resources as the ground component for the US Central Command (CENTCOM) in the face of the ongoing Iraqi threat in the region. The Army, at the direction of CENTCOM, revamped and reorganized Third Army to operate as a land component command. The Army developed the infrastructure in Kuwait--airfields, seaports, laagering facilities, headquarters, and command posts at a cost of over $500 million to support contingency operations. Moreover, in conjunction with Operation SOUTHERN WATCH forces, the Army provided the bulk of the CENTCOM direct theater engagement effort, setting the conditions that enabled the successful conclusion of decisive combat operations in less than a month. Obviously, other components of CENTCOM made important investments as well.

Army special operations soldiers, as part of the joint special operations team, led the way into Iraq. US special operations forces (SOF) excelled during OIF. They did so on the basis of intense efforts made by the joint community, US Special Operations Command, and the services to develop capability and, more important, to integrate capabilities among SOF units and between SOF and conventional units. Integration of SOF operations in the campaign plan paid enormous dividends.

Coalition soldiers and marines led the ground attack on D-day, cutting lanes and destroying Iraqi observation posts prior to the main body attacks of V Corps and First Marine Expeditionary Force (I MEF). All of America rode with 3rd Squadron, 7th Cavalry as it led the fight up-country on point for the 3rd Infantry Division ("Rock of the Marne"), V Corps ("Victory Corps"), the CFLCC, and the nation.

The Army supported the other services as mandated by Title 10.3 The Army embodied the concept of a truly joint force, providing ballistic missile defense theaterwide, as well as providing artillery and rocket fires and more than six battalions' worth of engineers, logisticians, military police, transporters, and medical evacuation support to its Marine Corps comrades.4 In each of these cases, and in many more that will go without mention, the Army--and America's soldiers--served on point as the campaign unfolded.

A Campaign of Firsts
OIF is a campaign with a number of firsts. Arguably, it is the first "jointly" coherent campaign since the Korean War. American joint forces executed a large-scale, complex operation while simultaneously continuing active operations in Afghanistan, the Balkans, and in support of Homeland Defense.

In OIF, a combined and joint land component directed all ground operations for the first time since the Eighth Army did so in the Korean War. The US Third Army formed the core of what became a joint and combined headquarters - the CFLCC - charged with conducting ground operations, integrating air-ground operations, and directing theater support operations.5 Also for the first time since the Korean War, Army National Guard (ARNG) infantry battalions participated in combat operations as units. Seven ARNG light infantry battalions deployed to secure Patriot missiles and guard vital supplies. Ultimately, six of them went "up-country" and conducted combat operations in Iraq.

There were other important firsts. Not since World War II have the armed forces of the United States operated in multiple theaters of war while simultaneously conducting security operations and support operations in several other theaters. As an example, on 9 June 2003, 369,000 soldiers were deployed overseas, of which about 140,000 were from the Reserve Components. These soldiers were serving in 120 countries, conducting missions ranging from combat to deterring adversaries, to training the nation's allies, to protecting the nation's vital assets.

OIF also provided the opportunity for a number of firsts in the integration of special and conventional operations. Emerging ideas on the integration of special operations and conventional operations that debuted in Afghanistan came close to their potential in OIF. OIF marked a watershed in the evolution of SOF-general purpose (conventional) force integration when CENTCOM assigned conventional units to the operational control of SOF units.

The unprecedented degree of air-ground coordination and integration is also a key first. While ground maneuver began simultaneously with air operations to preclude the Iraqi regime from undertaking a scorched earth campaign or turning the oil fields into a WMD, it is difficult to overstate the importance of air operations in the context of OIF. By dominating the air over Iraq, coalition air forces shaped the fight to allow for rapid dominance on the ground. Air power decisively turned the tide in tactical operations on the ground on several occasions. Air- and sea-launched precision-guided munitions (PGMs) and cruise missile strikes responded rapidly to the targets developed by improved intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance systems. Equally important, effective integration of artillery and Army attack aviation produced, in several instances, the kind of synergy conceived in joint manuals and practiced in training over the decade since DESERT STORM.

OIF forces employed emerging concepts in the body of joint doctrine. The establishment of the CFLCC represents the maturation of joint doctrine developed since Goldwater-Nichols and tested through Army and joint simulations and training. The "running start" stemmed from the recent US policy of preemption and also from the joint concept of rapid dominance. Finally, integration of precision munitions with ground operations, supported by a largely space-based command and control network, enabled combat operations to occur in ways only imagined a decade ago.

Within this context of "firsts" and the execution of emerging joint concepts, there are strong threads of continuity in OIF. First, ground combat remains physically demanding. Ground operations remain central to toppling a regime by defeating its armed forces, seizing and holding territory, and controlling the population. While the campaign clearly took advantage of breathtaking technology, in the end, individual soldiers and marines took the fight to the enemy in a personal, eyeball-to-eyeball manner. Humans, not high-tech sensors, remain indispensable, even in the 21st century.

Themes of Operation IRAQI FREEDOM
From the Army's perspective, these firsts and the threads of evolution after DESERT STORM are a crucial part of the story in On Point. Yet within the story, several other themes recur. The quality of the American soldier and the quality of decision making from private to lieutenant general is arguably the most important insight that emerged from battle narratives, reports, and eyewitness accounts. There are other themes, but the outstanding performance of soldiers is at the top and accounts for the speed and relatively low human cost of major combat operations. Soldiers revealed themselves to be brave, skilled, and innovative in a unique and decisive manner. Similarly, their enemy, although often unskilled, proved courageous and adaptive.

In the months since the end of major combat operations, some observers tried to explain the rapid coalition success only in terms of inferior Iraqi equipment and incompetence. That does not account for the disparity. Coalition soldiers, sailors, airmen, and marines demonstrated they were better trained and that they could adapt faster than their opponents.

A number of other themes warrant discussion. Each of these broad areas of investigation tends to overlap, both in terms of understanding what happened and in raising questions for further study or considering possible implications for the Army and the armed forces generally. For organizational purposes they are considered in five broad areas:


Command and Control. This area encompasses technological means, including BFT, satellite communications, and various aids that supported communications and situational awareness which enabled effective command and control. But it also includes how the various echelons from CFLCC to company operated and contributed. The influence of doctrine, training, and experience on decision making is part of this discussion as well.
Combined Arms Operations. Combat vignettes illustrating the synergy of combined arms operations in Operation IRAQI FREEDOM are numerous. In On Point, the term "combined arms operations" includes the efficacy of joint integration, especially special operations and conventional operations. But it really focuses on combining maneuver and fires to create specific effects and the combination of small tactical units, including engineers, infantry, attack helicopters, artillery, and armor, to create tactical effects. Combined arms operations stem from the way the services train, but also from the maturation of doctrine in the services and in joint tactics, techniques, and procedures. Integration of effects and the separate arms or branches of the Army produced enormous benefit on the battlefield
Joint Integration and Support. Although this area could be subsumed in combined arms operations, joint integration deserves separate examination in the context of higher tactical and operational realms inherent in a multicorps campaign. It enables the examination of operational-level warfare from the perspective of CFLCC. This campaign is arguably the first campaign in which the initiatives inherent in the Goldwater-Nichols legislation bore full fruit.
Deployment and Sustainment. Getting the forces into the theater and sustaining them while attempting to apply principles developed in the decade since DESERT STORM produced both success and failure. The acquisition of fast sealift and the C-17 and the development of concepts such as single port managers to streamline deployment paid dividends. On the other hand, the effort to supersede the joint deployment system and the arcane time-phased force and deployment list (TPFDL) and the deployment sequence that stemmed from it did not reap the benefit anticipated. Similarly, concepts such as "just-in-time logistics" briefed better than they performed. Opening and sustaining the theater depended on Reserve Component units that simply did not get to the theater as rapidly as required. These and other issues made sustaining units in the field difficult.
Information and Knowledge. The services made strides both in the ability to move information and translate information into knowledge, but they did not attain the goal or capacity to wage "network-centric" warfare. Equally important, although the services made concerted efforts to wage information operations, gauging the success of those efforts remains elusive partly because the data is still unclear, but also because the concept remains immature.
Two other areas warrant separate consideration, both to set the context of operations in Iraq and to consider possible implications for the future:


Preparation. The 12-year effort to build the theater infrastructure; maintaining long-term regional engagement; conducting significant investments in Command, Control, Communications, Computers, Intelligence, Surveillance, and Reconnaissance (C4ISR); and completing significant materiel fieldings in the six months leading to execution were critical in setting the stage for success. Conversely, the very success within this theater raises questions about how the joint force would operate in a less mature theater, suggesting key shortfalls in the joint expeditionary capabilities.
Urban Operations. The Army's updated doctrine and training, as well as detailed, focused preparation for leaders, planners, and soldiers, created a highly capable urban-combat force. Tanks and Bradleys proved survivable and effective in the grueling environment, augmented by rapidly fielded equipment expressly designed to operate in an urban environment. Planners employed an innovative systems-based approach to urban combat that fundamentally reshaped how soldiers and commanders approached the mission. The result was that soldiers dominated the urban terrain without significant casualties, destruction, or collateral damage.
One or more of these themes is in every story, narrative, or discussion in On Point.

Generally, OIF is a "good news" story, but any operation reveals areas that require improvement. American soldiers adapted and improvised to overcome five key shortfalls identified during OIF. As with the keys to success, these problems are evident in many of the same stories, narratives, and discussions.


Combat Service Support (CSS). The CSS difficulties cross all aspects of Army operations--doctrine, organization, training, materiel, leader development, personnel, and facilities (DOTMLPF). From the recent shift to "just in-time" logistics to the training and equipping of CSS soldiers and units, the CSS community and the Army must rethink how they conduct operations. The current system emphasizes efficiency over effectiveness--from parts and supply distribution to the physical equipping of CSS units. In combat, however, effectiveness is the only real measure of success; many CSS units struggled to perform their mission due to "savings" realized in recent changes in organization, equipment, training resources, and doctrine.
Ability of every unit to fight and win. A noncontiguous operating environment has, by definition, no secure areas. Every unit in the theater must be prepared to fight to accomplish its mission. OIF drove this idea home and is fraught with implications for how ground forces are manned, equipped, and trained.
Tactical Intelligence. The current Intelligence Battlefield Operating System (IBOS) is optimized for upper echelons and effectively supported the corps and higher echelons. However, in the COE, brigades and below need the capability to sense and analyze the threat to their immediate front. The historic emphasis at the corps and above, exacerbated by inadequate communications and analytic aids, often forced maneuver commanders literally to fight for information about the enemy to their front--or rear and sides.
Active Component/Reserve Component Mix. The current mix is inappropriate to meet post-Cold War realities. The demands on the Reserve Components--to support a crisis contingency force while simultaneously supporting homeland security, major combat, and stability operations and support operations requirements, require a full review of missions and force structure. Moreover, the mobilization and employment process must be updated to meet the current and projected operational concepts, to wit--short-notice/long-duration deployments.
None of these areas requiring improvements will surprise anyone with any depth of experience within the Army. However, OIF provides hard and unambiguous data about the depth, breadth, and scope of these challenges. This clarity was lacking in previous, more theoretical venues of analysis and debate. While the past 12 years showed improvement in each of these areas, there is much more to do. Themes in these broad areas will affect how the Army continues transformation toward the future force. In this sense, the lessons of the most recent war will help guide the Army's preparation for the next war.

Issues and Implications
This study of Army participation in OIF reveals three larger, interrelated concepts that are also woven throughout this work: campaigns, preparation, and seams. Much of what is good--and bad--about Army and joint performance in OIF can be traced to some aspect of these three issues.

Simply stated, as the major ground component of the US armed forces, the Army demonstrated that it is the premier land combat force for sustained campaigns and operations. The Army provides this fundamental, defining quality to joint campaigning--sustained operations.

Sustained operations are more than just "clean up" after a series of standoff precision and ground engagements. While these actions are necessary and set the conditions for success, they do not equate to success. Presenting the adversary with an overwhelming combat power that will seek him out anywhere, outlast his ability to hide, deliver a decisive defeat, and bring positive change to the region are the attributes that transform successful battles and engagements into a successful campaign.

Without the Army, the world's best Navy, Air Force, and Marine Corps could not successfully conclude this, or any similar, campaign. Sustained land operations are more than just combat; they are operations that include the combination of decisive military actions and the ability to exploit that victory to achieve theater strategic objectives and advance national policy. Sustaining operations included providing common user logistics, supporting theater air and missile defense, providing for the security of enemy prisoners of war, supporting psychological operations, civil affairs, and many other tasks that afford the troops that execute them few opportunities for glory, but without which joint campaigns generally can not be concluded successfully.

Preparation is one of the keys to successful campaigning. It is fundamental to understanding the victory of OIF. Although discussed above, it requires additional detail here as a basic element to a successful campaign. As illustrated throughout this story, preparation takes on many nuanced meanings and took place from the diplomatic to the tactical level.

Preparing--or in the current vernacular, "setting the conditions"--has reemerged as a core component of the American way of war. For the most part, preparations were well reasoned and generally "80-percent solutions," given the resources, time, and political/diplomatic constraints at the time. How the Army capitalized on, integrated, or recovered from these varying levels of preparation is a fundamental part of every soldier's story and the Army's success.

The concept of seams emerged during the analysis for this work. Seams may be vertical, horizontal, organizational, and structural. Unless deliberately secured, seams expose weakness and may make the joint force vulnerable to enemy exploitation. In other cases, seams represent points of strength as two or more organizations reinforce and focus deliberately on a smooth transition. Perhaps one of the most vexing seams is how military forces posture for the "Three-Block War"--shorthand for full-spectrum operations within a single battlefield or even a single city block. Even calling it three-block war creates seams in what is an inherently seamless spectrum of conflict. How the ground forces contended with a "rolling," or even "blurring" transition to Phase IV operations is a major characteristic of this ongoing campaign.

These themes transcend the Army and are found throughout the campaign. As such, this work is not the appropriate forum for a detailed analysis or discussion. A more comprehensive study of OIF at the operational, joint campaign level would offer the necessary depth, breadth, and scope for this analysis. Yet, as in every war, there are many implications that will affect the Army's evolution. In any case, it is probably an understatement to say that there is much to learn from OIF.

On Point is more than a title; it is the central theme of this work, and soldiers are central to this theme. Soldiers on point demonstrated their quality and showed their flexibility, courage, and initiative as their antecedents have in every fight from Bunker Hill to Baghdad. Equally important, they remain on point from Mosul in the north to As Samawah in the south. They are doing the important work of creating the conditions of an Iraqi democracy and sustainable peace--America's stated strategic goal.

Book Structure
As a first account, On Point tells the story of the Army in a joint and combined force. Yet the soldiers of V Corps did not simply appear on the Iraqi border on 21 March 2003. Nor was the campaign limited to the combat soldiers fighting their way to Baghdad. Victory on the battlefield required the efforts of all of the armed forces acting in concert. A host of preparatory and supporting events, spanning more than a decade, brought the soldiers to the line of departure. Moreover, the support effort was at least as impressive and challenging as the combat itself. To do these soldiers, sailors, marines, airmen, and coast guardsmen justice would require several volumes beyond the scope of this work.

The book is structured in three general parts: The first part--the introduction, Chapter 1, and Chapter 2--discusses how the Army prepared for Operation IRAQI FREEDOM. The preparation started the day after the end of Operation DESERT STORM and ended with the first soldiers crossing the line of departure in Operation IRAQI FREEDOM. The introduction provides the Army's context among its sister services and in the joint community. Chapter 1 describes how the Army evolved from 1991 to 2003. The Army that won in Iraq in 2003 was different from the Army that won in Kuwait in 1991. It is critical to understand how the Army managed its growth and evolution over that time to create the Army of IRAQI FREEDOM. Chapter 2 addresses the final preparations for combat, from the summer of 2002 to D-day. This last effort put almost all of the pieces in place for the campaign, from inside the Continental United States (CONUS) to Europe and, of course, in Southwest Asia.

The second part, Chapters 3 through 6, focuses on the ground campaign through the end of major offensive operations, roughly 10 April, depending on which unit one looks at. The chapters strike the balance between describing big, sweeping arrows and telling the individual soldier's story. They start with a general summary of events during that phase of the battle--the sweeping arrows, followed by a detailed, almost standalone description of three or four key events. The opening summaries also introduce parallel and supporting actions that affect the fight or have some other significance. The summary also seeks to set the joint and coalition forces land component command context of the fight.

To say "phase of the battle" is somewhat of a misnomer in that the chapter structure suggests an ex-post facto delineation of operations and purposes. No formal operations order discusses completing the "running start" before starting the "march up-country" or "isolation of Baghdad" or even the "regime removal." More accurately, operations overlapped in time, location, and purpose, with many engagements changing character as they evolved. However, in a complex, distributed battlefield marked by multiple, simultaneous operations across a country the size of California, a simple sequence of events would force the reader to jump all over the battlefield, possibly losing the context for why any specific operation was undertaken.

Therefore, for the sake of clarity, operations and engagements are grouped by purpose rather than by time. This allows the reader to understand why an action occurred, even if it presents some challenges in following the sequence of events. The timelines at the beginning of each chapter are designed to help the reader through any confusion in the sequence of events and helps to retain operational context. Moreover, times noted in the text have been adjusted from Greenwich Mean Time ("Zulu") to local Kuwait time (+ 3 hours).

Throughout the work, the soldier stories and vignettes serve a variety of purposes. First, they help the reader better understand the trials and tribulations of soldiers on the battlefield. Second, they offer a detailed discussion of a particular aspect of the war as an example of the actions occurring all across the battlefield. And finally, the stories and vignettes introduce the reader to the individual soldiers who fought the battle. The men and women who served in Iraq represent a cross-section of America and illustrate all that is good about the American soldier and citizen. Their success is the Army's success and America's success.

The final section of On Point is a discussion of some of the campaign's implications. Operation IRAQI FREEDOM marks the most integrated joint force and joint campaign American armed forces have ever conducted. It is also the second war of the new millennium and carries weight as such. For the Army, it marks the first major campaign since Operation DESERT STORM. It is the first time the decade's worth of investments in digitization and interservice interoperability has been put to the test. This quick look at the war from an Army perspective suggests implications for the Army's continued transformation to the future force. These implications are organized in the broad categories discussed earlier and may serve as a starting point for further discussions and ultimately, programmatic decisions.

As of this writing, the campaign in Iraq continues. Soldiers continue to work with other agencies and organizations to help stabilize Iraq and assist with the transition to civilian rule. Yet despite the declared end of major combat operations, soldiers continue to fight--and die--as they pursue the remnants of the Ba'athist regime and other groups who oppose the coalition's presence. This mission is neither new nor unique to the Army's tradition. In this sense, the Army continues its role as the service of decision--ensuring that battlefield victories translate into strategic success.

Notes
President George W. Bush, "Address to the American Enterprise Institute, " 26 February 2003, accessed from http://www.whitehouse.gov/news/relea...030226-11.html, on 15 June 2003.
Alvin and Heidi Toffler, War and Antiwar: Survival at the Dawn of the 21st Century, (Boston: Little, Brown, and Company, 1993).
"Title 10" refers to US Federal Code, Title 10, which delineates the services' responsibilities in providing forces and support to the joint commander and the other services. During OIF, the Army fulfilled its Title 10 responsibilities in many ways, to include providing a majority of logistics and CSS to the other services for common user items.
Colonel Kevin Benson, CFLCC C5 (for OIF), interview by Major David Tohn, 12 August 2003.
Technically, with the Marine Corps providing ground forces, the CFLCC is actually a CJFLCC-Combined Joint Forces Land Component Command. However, this work adopts the theater's common naming convention.

[Officer of Engineers]

ARMY Article: More on the National Military Strategy, September 2004
By Gen. Frederick J. Kroesen, U.S. Army retired

When reflecting on requirements for a successful achievement of the objectives of our National Military Strategy, it is apparent that we must cope with a long-term threat, already years in the making and promising a determined effort by those who have declared war on us. It is also apparent that, considering the sporadic and tactical nature of the attacks against us, we are not going to lose this war quickly. We have time to adapt, to transform (today’s buzzword), to restructure, to make the changes necessary to wage this war most effectively, efficiently and economically.

Perhaps our most pressing need is the awakening of the American people to the seriousness of the war and the dire consequences of losing. The Islamists, the term now used to identify the radical terrorist element of Islam, are today’s totalitarians. Their ultimate and announced purpose is the destruction of all infidels--and destruction means eliminating, killing, beheading, using weapons of mass destruction or whatever tools and tactics are available to achieve the end sought. They live among and are sustained by the Islamic populations, much as the Nazis were sustained by the Christian population of Germany and the Russian communists by the peasantry of that nation.

It is not because those populations are or were power-mad or bloodthirsty, but rather because their alternatives were grim at best, likely terminal if they objected or resisted. The plight of the ordinary Iraqi citizen today is a reminder of the danger of opposing the aims of the totalitarian few. The grim alternative for infidels is conversion to Islam, the choice once offered to the Greeks and southern Slavs by the Ottomans.

We are today coping remarkably with the demands of this war, apparently making steady if unspectacular progress. Our successes, however, have been tactical, and they have been achieved by expending the force and, apparently, betting that we can end this thing in a hurry and therefore will have no need for long-term sustainment. (I am reminded that in 1966 the Defense program and budget were limited by the assumption that the Vietnam War would end in fiscal year 1967.) I do not second-guess the judgment that we might wrap things up in Iraq in a short time when I ask, "What if we do not?" If we increase the resources to prepare for the long term, then end things early, we will have wasted only money. If we bet wholly on a short war and are wrong, the consequences are incalculable.

Today, morale in the services remains high; the dedication and determination of soldiers and marines is commendable, and the effectiveness of our forces continues at a high standard. But equipment is wearing out, the patience of families and industry is wearing thin, and the repetitive deployment of units and individuals is at least disgruntling. Those are only the immediate consequences.

A more lasting impact is on the Army’s education system where faculties are stripped of teaching personnel, student quotas go unfilled and courses are shortened or eliminated in order to return officers and NCOs to units preparing to deploy. The long-term result of such action is the development of a less qualified, less capable corps of leaders and the loss of expertise for the faculties of the future. Some have deemed it the "dumbing down" of the Army.

So, there is dire need, there is time to cope and there is a capability to study, plan and program to address our problems. There is a need for direction--for some agency, the Defense Department, the Army or Congress--to get on with the task.

Meanwhile, I am reminded again of Vietnam. In 1965, when we first committed troop units to that war, the President authorized an increase of 133,000 in the Army’s end strength, specifying only the addition of one division and three independent brigades--about 25,000 structure spaces. We made good use of those additions and in fact needed twice as many more spaces before the buildup ended, and we still did not have the sustaining force that we needed. It is that experience that led me in the past to write that the addition of 100,000 soldiers to the Army would be a prudent investment.

Now I think that we are three years late in making that commitment, but considering the 1-4-2-1 strategy of the National Military Strategy, we can become much better prepared for a second "swift campaign" if we have a larger Army, particularly since our current campaign is not very swift.

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GEN. FREDERICK J. KROESEN, USA Ret., is a former commander in chief of U.S. Army Europe and a senior fellow of AUSA’s Institute of Land Warfare.

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Copyright © 1999 - 2004 by The Association of the U.S. Army Back

[Officer of Engineers]

ARMY Article: Let’s Get Closer: Remembering the Relevance of Close Combat, September 2004
By Lt. Col. Robert R. Leonhard, U.S. Army retired


In his insightful study of Army Transformation, Andrew Krepinevich rightly points to an irony within the Army’s vision of the future. On the one hand, Transformation leaders are calling for a fighting organization that can “see first, understand first, act first and finish decisively,” which implies fighting the enemy at a distance; and on the other hand, the Army’s plan for Stryker brigade combat teams emphasizes dismounted infantry assaults. Krepinevich correctly perceives a disconnect here as the Army struggles to reconcile its past core competency of close combat with the future possibility of precision engagement at a distance. Long-range precision engagement has many advocates, both within and without the Army. Is the Army schizophrenic? Will the Future Force prefer distant engagement or close combat or both?

The purpose of this article is to explain why the most effective vision for the future Army will be one that refocuses on the close fight as the centerpiece of land warfare. Our ability to engage the enemy from the land, air and sea, at great distances, is a powerful tool and will continue to be an important part of the shaping fight. We must guard against inaccurate and ineffective theories, however, that suppose that distant engagement can supplant the decisiveness of close combat. Indeed, if the Army succumbs to the allure of long range, it will preside over its own marginalization and deprive the future joint force of a crucial capability.

Warfare is the coming together of opposites. The violent contest of battle causes war to be characterized by the constant tension between dialectically opposed ideas. Armies mass and disperse, attack and defend, maneuver and fortify, destroy and build up. Modern joint warfare also brings out another dichotomy--the need for both long-range precision engagement and close combat. These two forms of warfare are complementary--the use of one strengthens the other. In fact, the very existence of the one brings about the need for the other. When an enemy force--whether an armored corps or a gang of insurgents--mass together to oppose an American land force, they make themselves highly vulnerable to the devastating effects of long-range precision engagement from the land, air or sea. The most destructive results from fires occur when the enemy forces are close together in a building, along a road or assembling for an attack.

What occurs when an American joint force conducts effective fires against such targets? The first-order effect is the death and destruction caused by the kinetic energy of the attack. The second-order effect is that the enemy disperses to mitigate the effects of fires. Often this dispersion is one of the effects that the joint commander wants to cause. If the commander can force an enemy to disperse its combat power, they will be less effective in close battle. There is also a deleterious effect, however: a dispersed enemy is less vulnerable to further long-range engagement. An enemy force that is dispersed in an urban area or other close terrain, and perhaps intermixed with the noncombatant population, is highly difficult to find and attack.

The solution is close combat. Long-range fires cause enemy forces to disperse and hide, thus making them more vulnerable to a vigorous attack by ground forces. An American joint force that lacks the ground combat power to prosecute close combat must ultimately stand by and allow the enemy to make long-range engagement all but irrelevant. The threat of close combat forces the enemy into a constant dilemma: either mass for battle and risk destruction from fires, or disperse and risk destruction from close combat. This is the yin and yang of warfare.

The future joint force has an abundance of long-range precision fires. The Air Force, Navy, Army and Marines have an inherent capability in this area, and future developments will only make the force even stronger in precision engagement. While an organic Army capability for long-range fires reinforces the fires of the other joint forces, an over-emphasis upon fires can blind the Army to its unique core competency: dominating the close fight.

The Army is afraid to embrace the close fight publicly, because to do so seems anachronistic, politically incorrect and illogical. Real warfare--whether in the open field against uniformed opponents, or in urban terrain against irregular insurgents--depends upon close combat, but the close fight suffers from a pervasive and erroneous mythology. An effective vision for the future Army must combat these myths with the proven realities of military history.

Myth 1. Close combat should be a last resort and is equivalent to tactical failure. The close fight should never be viewed as a last resort, but rather as a full partner in modern joint operations. It is the close combat capability of the joint force that forces the enemy to mass and thus become vulnerable to long-range fires. Thus, close combat is not tactical failure; it is a fundamental component of victory-the yin that enables the yang of precision engagement. If we deprive ourselves of the one, we relegate the other to indecisiveness and irrelevance.

It is an easy matter to see the truth of this if we put ourselves into the enemy’s shoes. If I were an insurgent fighting against an American joint force, I would be delighted if all my opponent had to offer was long-range fires. Indeed, I would anticipate an eventual victory with relish. Hiding from joint fires is a no-brainer if the opponent has no ability to force me out of hiding. If that joint force is able to have a strong combat force in my area of operations, however, I must either acquiesce in its presence, or expose my forces to oppose it, thus making myself vulnerable to fires once again.

Myth 2. Close combat is too bloody. More to the point, this myth supposes that close combat represents too great a risk to our own troops. The reality is that although any form of combat is dangerous, and close combat will always demand a special kind of courage, it can also be considerably less bloody than long-range fires and less dangerous than the rear area. In the first Gulf War, the single biggest casualty-producing attack against the American joint force was a missile attack against a barracks far to the rear. By contrast, our recent experience in close combat was decidedly one-sided as American forces sliced through Iraqi combat formations with few casualties. Improvised explosive devices have proven to be more lethal in Iraq than any pitched battle is likely to be. The bottom line is that in tomorrow’s theater of war, close combat is no more likely to result in mass U.S. casualties than any other form of engagement.

Close combat gives the commander the best opportunity for the multiplicative effects of combined arms. In close combat—and only in close combat--the joint commander can subject an enemy to simultaneous attack by hundreds of weapons that combine complementary attack profiles that are able to finish them off quickly and break their morale. It is this collapse dynamic that only close combat can produce and that often makes close combat the most decisive form of warfare. This leads to the third myth.

Myth 3. Close combat is indecisive. The opposite is true. Close combat is the only form of warfare that results in surrenders. Enemy troops or insurgents do not surrender to long-range fires; they hide from them and defy them. Close combat confronts the enemy with his own imminent and inescapable death, and so it impacts directly on individual and organizational morale. For the past several millennia, virtually every battle involving close combat has resulted in a moral weakening or collapse by one side or the other (or occasionally both). Real battle does not involve killing every last enemy. Normally, less than 10 percent of the enemy force is actually destroyed before a moral collapse occurs. The break-down that results leads to retreat, rout and often surrender, providing a most decisive outcome.

People do not live at 30,000 feet. They do not live on the seas. They live in cities, in villages and on farms. The core competency of the U.S. Army is to project combat power into the dimensions in which people live. The Air Force and Navy excel at delivering the joint force into theater and shaping the fight with overwhelming fires. They do not, however, have the ability to project discriminatory, combined arms combat power into the dimensions in which people live, work and play. It is the ground force component that can patrol the streets, occupy buildings, negotiate a cease-fire, separate combatants, take prisoners, provide succor to the fearful, shake the hand of a tribal leader and, when necessary, kill an insurgent trying to hide behind his wife.

When a bomb or missile falls to the earth, the resulting explosion delivers a tremendous amount of instantaneous kinetic energy against our foes. One second after the explosion, however, both the kinetic and potential energy of that munition go to zero. When an infantry patrol sets up in the town square, its potential energy remains as a force to be reckoned with. It has immediate and sustained effects on the politics, economics and social dynamics of the area in which it operates. It is a visible, human presence capable of greeting, helping, communicating or destroying. It is combat power in the human dimension. No missile, rocket or bomb can mimic this effect or lessen its relevance.

A retreat from a close-combat capability is equivalent to the abandonment of national grand strategy. There is not a single expert today who does not foresee the continued need for stability and support operations as part of our future strategy. Those operations will most certainly involve combat against both regular and irregular forces. Without a commitment to honing the close-combat effectiveness of the Future Force, we will be unable to sustain and protect stability and support operations. Succumbing to the fiction of attractive theories that promise the ability to find and destroy the enemy’s center of gravity, golden screw, or Achilles’ heel in a rapid and decisive campaign built on precision engagement is an amateurish approach to real war. War on a PowerPoint slide is quick, decisive and a splendid opportunity for a barrage of cruise missiles to do it all. Real war, however, involves enemies with more guts, savvy and determination than we like to credit them with. They have no center of gravity; they do not use a golden screw; and the Achilles we will face had a mother smart enough to dip his entire body, including the heel, in the River Styx. To defeat such a foe will require sustained combined-arms combat that uses both long-range fires and close combat in an integrated campaign.

We have to stop trying to out-Air Force the Air Force. It is reasonable and important for our future to continue building an organic capability for long-range fires. They provide reliable, sustainable fires that reinforce joint precision engagement. If the Army becomes too enamored with long-range and precision engagement, however, we will wander ever deeper into the domain of the Air Force, where we will lose programmatically. An Army weapon system that delivers long-range fires will inevitably have to face the question: why cannot the Air Force do that instead? Sometimes there are good reasons behind such systems. The Air Force cannot deliver round-the-clock, all-weather, all-terrain, close supporting fires. The Army must rely upon artillery and mortars to do that. When we gravitate more and more to non-line-of-sight precision engagement, however, we degenerate to trying to duplicate what the Air Force can already do.

To some degree, this overlap must continue, because both stability operations and close combat require a high volume of non-line-of-sight engagement capability that cannot be fully provided from the air. In the context of limited defense budgets, however, no program that duplicates another service’s capability will escape scrutiny. The Army’s core competency is not long-range engagement; it is killing or capturing the enemy up close and personal. Long-range fires facilitate the success of close combat, but it is in building that close-combat capability that the Army ensures its future.

The U.S. Marine Corps is our natural partner in preparing for tomorrow’s wars, because close combat is the Marines’ purview as well. As with the Army, the Marine Corps has a long, proud tradition of being able to master the most intense ground warfare on the one hand, and guard the peace in the most exotic trouble spots across the globe on the other. It is impossible
to think of our Marines without remembering their record of decisive close combat throughout our nation’s history. Just as the Army continues to exploit the technological potential of precision engagement, so also the Marines continue to modernize, but they have not shied away from the realities of war or the need for wading in and dominating the close fight.

We must expose the defense community’s addiction to long-range fires for what it is: an erroneous, ineffective and dangerous theory that has been consistently disproved in real war. It is not anachronistic to resource the close fight; it is the most forward-thinking, futuristic thing we can do. Enabling the future soldier to dominate the 50 meters around him creates a powerful dynamic that strategists can use to secure our national objectives with a high degree of reliability. This is not a romantic glorification of the bayonet; it is a scientific, dispassionate and pragmatic preparation for tomorrow’s challenge—a responsible and sober girding for the real fight, rather than cowering behind promises of winning easily from a safe distance.

No other service and no other agency of the government can resource the close fight like the U.S. Army can. It is the one dimension of future conflict that belongs to us, and with good reason. We have the institutional expertise, the experience and the moral commitment to our soldiers required to ensure victory in the close fight. Theories of war that contemplate a super-smart joint commander hitting just the right target and creating a fourth-order effect that saves the day ultimately rely upon hope, pseudo-science and good luck. Cultivating the close fight mentality results in a future joint force that can reliably and consistently deliver mission accomplishment, if necessary at gun-point.

Stop apologizing for the close fight. Stop trying to avoid it as if there is something wrong with it. Stop buying into the mythology and bad science that sustains the theory of long-range engagement. Get real. Get closer.

The bread and butter of the Army is the close fight. We are the world’s masters at this ferocious art, and it is destined to be the centerpiece of conflict as far into the future as anyone can see. We surely embrace any technology, including precision engagement, that can help us win that fight. We must not, however, take counsel of our fears and abandon or weaken the close-combat component of the joint force. Without close fighting, the joint force loses or becomes indecisive and irrelevant. Equipped with a robust capability to kill up close, the future joint commander will accomplish the mission and win the fight.

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LT. COL. ROBERT R. LEONHARD, USA Ret., is a senior staff member at Johns Hopkins University Applied Physics Laboratory. He has published many articles and several books on military strategy and land warfare. He also taught military science at West Virginia University.

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Copyright © 1999 - 2004 by The Association of the U.S. Army Back

[AussieSoldier]

Thanx Sir. :)

They failed to keep me the first time when they dangled the E-5 stripes at me too.

I had this burning desire to actually make some money, lol.

I did try to get back in after 9-11(for six stinking months), but the red tape became unbearable. Had a lot to do with me being 33 i think. I hear they've slackened up on that quite a lot in the last year- might explain why enlistment rates are so high right now.

War is a young man's game anyway. I don't even know if my knees could take the infantry anymore.

I know what you mean, I am 23 and been in since I was 17, I have been deployed a few times, I do not believe I can take this shit much more lol.
In fact I am getting out in December, (touch fucken wood) with a fucked foot and fractured shins.

[Officer of Engineers]

Canadian Military Journal

Can the CF Develop Viable National Joint Capabilities?
by Brigadier-General G.W. Nordick


During the Chief of the Defence Staff’s General Officer Seminar held in Ottawa last October, he offered all General Officers the opportunity to forward suggestions as to how the Canadian Forces could improve its internal ability to conduct joint operations in the future. Having given this matter some thought, a version of this paper was submitted to the Vice Chief of the Defence Staff for consideration as work on a major defence review is begun.

Independent Joint Canadian Overseas Operations
To frame this discussion, a hypothetical scenario based around the recent CF contribution to both Afghanistan and the Persian Gulf will be used as a means of addressing the type of joint operations that could be possible in the Canadian context.

To the International Security Assistance Force (ISAF) in Afghanistan, the CF has deployed a brigade headquarters, a mechanized infantry battalion (equipped with the LAV III/Mobile Gun System), and a range of brigade troops (a Coyote squadron, an Unmanned Aerial Vehicle troop, a composite 105mm/Multiple Missions Effects Vehicle artillery battery with counter-battery radar), as well as a full range of support troops. In the Persian Gulf, as part of the continuing war against terrorism, Canada has deployed a frigate, supported by a detachment of three Maritime Patrol Aircraft (MPA), tasked as part of an international naval task force, with the mission of preventing smuggling and the movement of illegal arms. Three C-130 Hercules aircraft, a National Command Element, and a National Support Element Line of Communication Base, located at an airhead in the Gulf region, complete the Canadian ISAF contingent.

The scenario set for this article portrays an environment where failure to achieve internal political agreement has caused the situation in Afghanistan to deteriorate. Local warlords opposed to the internationally supported interim government’s efforts to bring them under control are increasingly bellicose and are threatening direct attacks to seize power. The problems reach a crisis state when a general insurrection breaks out aimed at toppling the interim government. Armed militias, some equipped with tanks, artillery and armoured personnel carriers, leave their barracks, set up roadblocks around the capital, threaten Kabul airport with a range of indirect and direct fire systems, and carry out a series of attacks against ISAF bases, units and convoys. Apart from the political ramifications, this action closes both the ISAF and Canadian Lines of Communication and ties down ISAF forces with increased force protection requirements. As a result, ISAF is overstretched and in need of immediate help. Finally, because of the nation-wide nature of the uprising, American forces in theatre are already stretched to the limit supporting their own units and isolated Provincial Reconstruction Teams scattered throughout the country, and with their efforts to control the Afghan-Pakistani border. The Canadian brigade commander calls the National Command Element and requests national support. In response, the National Command Element Commander, with the concurrence of the Deputy Chief of the Defence Staff, directs the CF naval task force to offer immediate assistance to the Canadian brigade in Kabul.

Without changing the ship’s assigned patrol route or routine tasks, the frigate commanding officer makes contact with the brigade through the National Digital Command and Control system, and puts at his disposal six land attack Tomahawk cruise missiles carrying scatterable bomblets. Following national overflight and targeting negotiations, two of these are immediately requested and, using the guidance system of a Coyote surveillance vehicle, are terminally guided onto key roadblocks barring access to the airport as a display of intent. Four others are placed on standby, as part of the Brigade Commander’s reserve. The in-theatre standby Maritime Patrol Aircraft is prepared and loaded with Joint Direct Attack Munitions (a low-cost form of smart weapon carried on external hard points and in its internal bomb bay). With its upgraded sensor pods, it is dispatched within hours to conduct a series of simultaneous missions high over Kabul. These consist of electronic warfare measures; intelligence, surveillance and target acquisition support; air control assistance; and terminally guided precision weapons support, including High Speed Anti-Radiation weapon missions for destroying radars. Finally, at Canada’s request, and with the concurrence of the naval task force, the entire Maritime Patrol Aircraft detachment is re-tasked to maintain a patrol over Kabul for the duration of the crisis.

After negotiating a strategic agreement with Pakistan regarding overflight, six CF-18s, plus associated support, depart Bagotville for the theatre, along with two additional Aurora Maritime Patrol Aircraft from CFB Greenwood. The Aurora mission is to re-establish air patrols over the Gulf, while the CF-18s are tasked to provide reinforcing high-altitude close air support with terminally-guided precision weapons, as requested by the brigade commander. As well, three Canadian Special Operations Force teams are inserted into the Canadian Area of Operations using in-theatre C-130 high-altitude precision drop techniques, to provide deep surveillance and additional precision targeting capabilities. Precision drops of supplies, again from C-130 aircraft, maintain these teams and provide essential resupply to the cut-off Canadian camps. Rented Antonov transport aircraft, loaded with replacement and augmenting munitions, start making scheduled runs to the theatre support base, and planning is initiated to lease a cargo ship should the support requirement be protracted.

Other Coalition assets quickly reinforce this independent Canadian effort, and within a week every major combat system owned by the various rebel factions has been destroyed, captured or driven into hiding. All roadblocks have been destroyed and overt rebel resistance has ceased, with rebels either surrendering or fleeing into the hills, with Special Operations Forces in hot pursuit, guided by airborne and Unmanned Aerial Vehicle surveillance assets.

This scenario illustrates that the CF does have the potential to maintain a credible independent operational-level capability over large parts of the globe with existing or planned resources. In addition to the already significant national signals intelligence capability, our contribution could include operationally deployed frigates equipped with Long Range Land Attack missiles, perhaps at the expense of some or all of their sea-to-air missile capabilities. In the air superiority environment Western-based Coalitions currently enjoy, the Aurora, with its upgraded sensors, external hard points and long loiter time, has the potential to be an exceptional multi-mission aircraft and a superb high-altitude precision bomber. The CF-18 also represents a credible rapid- response capability that can be quickly deployed around the world. It also demonstrates that Canada has the ability for independent national joint action, which would significantly increase the value of our tactical contributions to major coalitions.

Making Integration a Reality
Making the CF an integrated, joint force is a long-standing goal, but to achieve this will require a major change of mindset. Although we have worked hard to become internally joint, with the possible exception of domestic operations we continue to operate in three isolated realms. The irony of the situation is that all the ingredients for effective and decisive joint action already exist. At issue is whether we have the will to turn this potential into reality.

Our first requirement is to develop a ‘Strategic Mindset’, particularly in our approach to expeditionary operations. The Canadian Forces are expeditionary, by both history and nature, even though our normal contribution is at the tactical level. We have also been very successful in operations, despite the fact that most new and even recurring missions are mounted in a crisis and often in an ad hoc manner. I will elaborate on my argument by addressing each of the following areas of concern:

National strategic responsibilities;


Mobility (Strategic, Operational and Tactical);


‘Reach back’;


Organizations/structures and joint capabilities; and


Deployment readiness (expeditionary mindset and training) of our people.
National Strategic Responsibilities
Tactical deployments still demand strategic decisions. In all Coalition operations there are national areas of responsibility that cannot be devolved, and which exist regardless of our level of commitment. To make strategic decisions and properly meet our strategic obligations requires approved doctrine. It also requires the responsibility to teach national joint doctrine in our schools (the CF Command and Staff College course, the Advanced Military Studies course, and the National Security Studies course), as well as in our environmental institutions (such as the Land Forces Command and Staff College, the Maritime Warfare Centre, and the Air Force Staff Course). There is also the requirement to practice and exercise doctrine frequently, both in training (based on a Strategic Collective Training Plan) and in actual operations.

At this time, I contend that Canadian Forces doctrine does not exist for determining our strategic intent prior to deployment on new operations. For example, if we really believed we were going into Afghanistan for only a year, would we have constructed multimillion dollar mega-bases in the theatre? There is also no doctrine for National/Coalition Command and Control. Therefore, we have continuing difficulties differentiating between the National Liaison Team to the Coalition Headquarters, at the strategic level, and the operational-level Canadian National Command Element which supports national land, air, and sea contingents embedded in their respective Coalition component commands. We have no strategic Combat Service Support doctrine. So the national service support structure for overseas operations, from first line to the national Lines of Communication, must be created from first principles every time we deploy. We also have no doctrine governing our international law obligations (including rules of engagement, strategic targeting, and force employment decisions), which puts an inordinate burden on deployed unit commanders. It also imposes considerable restrictions on the utility of Canadian contingents to meet emergency response situations.

Instead of doctrine, we have partially developed policies – Standard Operating Procedures, and Tactics, Techniques and Procedures (TTPs) – and thus we continually go through painful debates about strategic force structuring and the mounting of expeditionary operations without the intellectual underpinning of approved national joint doctrine.

This situation needs to be corrected. Keystone national doctrine must drive environmental doctrine, which, in turn, drives what is taught in CF institutions. Understandably, the current CF doctrine staff is small, but the writing of national doctrine is actually a joint responsibility and, therefore, NDHQ must leverage the three services to prepare and maintain approved national joint doctrine.

Strategic, Operational and Tactical Mobility
To be useful in the fast-paced world of expeditionary operations, Canada must maintain mobility at the strategic, operational and tactical levels. In reality, the CF already has a number of key qualities in this regard. We have the professional ethos, training, equipment, and credibility to effectively participate in an ‘early-in’ strategy. We have the flexibility of tactical doctrine and thought to move around in a theatre of operations, which enables us to go where the need for disciplined, professional troops is greatest. Our record in the Balkans proves this. We can be shock troops in a wide variety of missions, but if we want this important role, we have to deploy and act like shock troops.

I am not advocating the acquisition of national strategic lift resources, as useful as such a capability might be. Short of a worldwide crisis, transportation resources can be found when required. Lift will rarely constrain overseas deployments, since the political decision-making process will usually exceed the time required to achieve military preparedness. What we really require is an integrated approach to mobility in its broadest sense. Strategic decisions taken during the planning and mounting phases of an expeditionary operation radically affect operational and tactical mobility. For example, when we make the strategic decision to construct major, immobile base camps and hinder the self-sufficiency of our deployed units by restricting their structure, we essentially also restrict both our operational and tactical mobility for the duration of the mission. This creates the antithesis of mobility: we become tied to a particular sector of the mission area because of infrastructure, rather than being agile enough to meet the new challenges that always arise in a dynamic theatre of operations. This in turn then colours our interest in and ability to conduct out-of-area operations within the mission area.

We need to re-think camp construction and utilities in operational theatres. Our current base-camp mentality significantly restricts tactical mobility. We must take a ruthless approach to both austerity and modularity. Everything we put into a camp should be capable of being moved, relocated or recovered at some time in the future. We have to avoid putting money into fixed installations and trying to build permanent camps to Canadian Forces base specifications. The understandable desire to improve quality of life in mission areas is also making us immobile. Tactical combat units are capable of living out of their vehicles or under austere conditions for days, weeks, and even months at a time, and must be prepared to do so. We need to reduce our ‘footprint’, make our equipment and facilities modular, and standardize our space requirements. That is the price of an ‘early in/early out’ concept, and of tactical mobility in a theatre of operations. Some ideas on how to change this paradigm follow:

Command Post in a Box. Unit and sub- unit headquarters, National Command Elements, and National Support Element headquarters, as examples, should be standardized and self- contained, and be sea-container based. With fixed wiring for information technology and communications workspaces, these command posts could provide an instant, state-of-the-art, mobile headquarters for deployed formations and units. Where absolutely necessary, line or wireless systems run from this fixed hub could provide remote access to tent space or rented office space.


Specialized Sea Container Accommodation. Tent trailer-style sea containers (with wind-up tops, collapsible furniture, and wired for electricity, heat, computers and communications), adaptable for a variety of purposes (such as offices, mobile workshops and tool cribs) offer real potential. Quick-erect tentage could augment this core capability, where required. Set-up and tear down must not require specialized equipment or personnel, and must be possible within specified times.


Hard Standing. Airfield repair-type decking should be used to create hard standing rather than building strategic reserves of gravel all around the world.


Rear Link Communications Packages. Vehicle-mounted or sea container rear link communications packages that can be moved, erected and torn down by the rear link detachment itself are essential.


Utilities. A fresh approach to utilities is needed, to include self-generating power to reduce fuel consumption, recycling as an approach to water, sewage and garbage, pre-packaged above-ground wiring, and standard quick connect/disconnect electrical services.


Personnel Services. All personnel services (including Internet access, gyms and libraries) can also be set up in modular sea containers, augmented, if necessary, by tentage.


Modular Infrastructure. We need to design workshops, field hospitals and Combat Service Support components that are easily deployable, reusable, and adaptable to mobile, static or shipboard operations.


Personal Lockers. Standardized personal lockers should be provided for deploying personnel. These should include a foldout desk, a folding chair, a lamp, a closet, storage space for a cot and personal equipment, and electrical outlets with external quick connects. These need to be stackable to fit in sea containers.


Force Protection. We need to address force protection from the same standard and utilitarian point of view. We should have standardized plans for camp construction, standard plans for security measures and standard plans for force protection (including sensors, communications, and guard/observation towers). This, coupled with standardized camp security doctrine, would also facilitate pre-deployment decisions about organization and equipment.
Modularity leads to other possibilities. With modular construction, any leased commercial roll-on/roll-off ship can become an expeditionary craft with rear link communications in a sea container strapped on the deck. Airfield engineers can erect modular helicopter decks laid over the ship’s existing deck. A sea container-based National Command Element, a field hospital, workshops, supply areas, laundry and bath, and personnel support facilities can be set up inside. A battle group’s worth of equipment, with supplies for 90 days, can be carried on deck and internally. We could easily have an entire camp tied up alongside or floating offshore in a littoral area, and likely for less money and personnel than many of our missions today. For the deployed battle group, the ship becomes the base camp, hospital, and recreation area, all in one location. By ensuring a modular approach, the possibilities of deployment and sustainment become almost endless. Conversely, when it comes time to put the National Command Element and National Support Element ashore, it will be a seven-day job that does not require weeks or months of construction and an entire engineer squadron to achieve.

Some guidelines the CF could adopt to assist in achieving the desired level of mobility might be as follows:

Strategic Guidelines:
Given the small size, but professional capabilities of the Canadian Forces, ‘early-in’ is Canada’s preferred strategy. This plays to our strengths and recognizes that our soldiers want to be challenged; that they rapidly come to dislike stale and generalized routines.


The Canadian Forces’ standard will be austere and mobile camps with limited fixed infrastructure, so as to save money and maintain our operational and tactical mobility.


The CF will adopt universal deployment standards for all CF members, based on the standards of either land or sea environments, in addition to any specific job-related requirements.


To mitigate the risks of ‘early-in’ deployment to unstable and dangerous areas of the world, we should consider creating a joint high-readiness standby augmentation capability, based in Canada, that is able to support all deployed missions in an emergency.
Operational Guidelines:
All deployed combat elements will be tactically self-sufficient units.


The National Command Element will be tasked to continuously validate in-theatre force requirements and provide advice on how and where the Canadian contingent can best be employed.


The Canadian Forces must adhere to the principle of operational mobility, and be willing to move our contingent and to deploy troops out of area when required.


Canada must endeavour to hand off established tasks as soon as possible to other nations who prefer stable, functioning missions as a pre-condition to committing their troops.
Tactical Guidelines:
Canada will always deploy combat contingents that are tactically self-sufficient at unit and sub-unit level, and ensure ongoing analysis of force protection requirements and the ability to move up and down the scale of readiness.


Units will deploy in austere conditions in return for high mobility and new and continuing operational challenges.


Canadian combat contingents will be structured to provide a mission/sector ‘force of last resort’ in all cases.
Reach Back
To reduce the size of their ‘footprints’ in a theatre of operations, many nations are choosing to ‘reach back’ into home-based national systems to augment theatre intelligence, signals, logistics and other capabilities, essentially linking together tactical and strategic systems. The small size and integrated nature of the CF gives us an incredible advantage from a national ‘reach back’ perspective. In fact, it is often not well understood how close and numerous our tactical to strategic ‘reach back’ capabilities really are, from both operational and administrative perspectives. This provides the CF with enviable potential, but we have not yet developed doctrine that will ensure an integrated approach to ‘reach back’ that would allow us to fully exploit this advantage. We have many independent digital information systems that do not operate together. We have ad hoc reporting systems and technical nets for exchange of information that are not formally controlled. And we do not have the integrated information management system necessary to permit customized access to the growing mountain of nationally-held information.

Joint Capabilities
Many of the capabilities and equipment within the CF are actually useable across the entire spectrum of joint operations. We continue to demonstrate this reality on almost every national domestic operation. This is, however, only possible because the command and control backbone of each environment spans the nation and, therefore, permits interoperability. However, when it comes to expeditionary operations, we tend to function as single service entities. This is unfortunate, and artificially limits our national capability.

To operate jointly overseas, we need to write doctrine and then experiment, train and practise joint operations. The reality is that we have no joint doctrine. We struggle to maintain even the semblance of national joint study in our service schools, and we have a very limited joint capability at our ‘joint’ staff college. There is very limited national joint participation in our major annual environmental exercises, and even the scenarios we use in training rarely foresee Canadian joint participation in Coalition operations. We do not insist on national joint approaches to fundamental issues such as command and control (such as radio, digital systems, information management, and information technology). And, we conduct very limited research to ensure that environmental systems can in fact speak to one another, as our current priority of effort is to ensure that we can talk to potential Coalition partners.

There is no joint approach to acquisition to ensure a general-purpose approach to major pieces of equipment. The helicopter project is a good example. Canada has already acquired 15 Search and Rescue helicopters and will soon acquire an additional 30 heavy lift maritime helicopters that will have incredible utility far beyond just Search and Rescue and maritime requirements. This fleet should be viewed as a national resource, but from the outset will likely have restricted expeditionary utility. For example, will it use the common Electro-Optical Reconnaissance, Surveillance and Target Acquisition package being proposed for the Griffon helicopters and the Auroras? Will it be able to sling loads? Will it have air defence warning systems? Will it carry door guns? Will it have communications compatible with the Army, or at least the capability for installing them? Can it be used for non-combatant evacuation, combat search and rescue or Special Forces operations? This is just a short list of the type of questions that would be asked in a truly national joint environment.

We need to take a systematic look at the joint or general-purpose nature of virtually every major capability and all equipment in the CF. The potential uses of every piece of our equipment need to be catalogued and set in priority, and, where feasible or necessary, equipment must be modified and people need to be trained to meet potential tasks.

However, even where some component offers the potential for joint action, it will remain only a force-in-being until it is thoroughly exercised and operational skills are perfected and, therefore, ready when the need arises. The hypothetical operation outlined in my opening scenario could not happen, when hours count, without training and practice.

A positive example of what can be achieved is the current cooperation between the Canadian Security Establishment (CSE), the CF Information Operations Group and Army electronic warfare units, which provides a seamless strategic capability right down to the tactical level, and vice versa. Work must now begin on the fourth leg of this capability – Reserve electronic warfare units, controlled by Reserve Communications Command – to further enhance this joint capability.

To build the best possible joint capability, we also need to review our list of strategic assumptions. A prime example is the question of air superiority. Will we have it or not in future operations? If we accept commonly held strategic thinking, Western Coalition campaigns will first seek to win the sea war, then the air war, and only then launch a land campaign. From this perspective, we need to revisit how our forces fight. The Army is currently re-examining air defence to meet the threats posed by Unmanned Aerial Vehicles, helicopters, and occasional fighter aircraft that might leak through the air defence net. It is developing a general purpose Multiple Mission Effects Vehicle capable of meeting a broad range of direct fire requirements, including air defence. In the same vein, perhaps the Air Force needs to look at the proportion of effort devoted to air-to-air and ground attack, and the entire issue of exactly how close air support is delivered. Precision weapon delivery, out of ground-based air defence range, can actually be done from a large variety of aircraft with precision-guided weapons. Loiter time and multi-tasking of aircraft in both surveillance and strike configurations will be essential over fixed areas of operations, while faster, standby aircraft (perhaps even based in Canada) can meet immediate self-targeting or terminal guided requirements over much broader areas of operations. From the maritime perspective, air superiority means there is less risk in reducing sea-to-air missiles and taking on long-range land attack missiles. However, short-range missiles will not provide enough capability to meet operational and strategic requirements.

Deployment Readiness and Expeditionary Mindset
When one sees a US Marine, most people make automatic assumptions about the individual’s capability and willingness to deploy and apply lethal force. But, when you look at a member of the CF, even if you know the environment, rank and trade classification, you are still left with no idea of the individual’s capability. This, unfortunately, is a reality even for CF members deployed overseas on operations today. Within the Army there are large numbers of soldiers who have no ability to apply lethal force, no ability to lead or survive in a hostile environment, and who have almost no understanding of the universality of service or unlimited liability. I have read Duty with Honour: The Profession of Arms in Canada, and believe it outlines a laudable goal for the CF – but the basic standard outlined in this manual does not exist in the CF today.

I am convinced that, from a deployment perspective, there are only two environments in the CF – Land and Sea. No one lives in the air. It is true that limited numbers of Air Force personnel work in the air for a number of hours each day and require specific training and skills for this role. However, they start that mission from the ground or a ship, they live on the ground or on a ship, and they must be prepared to survive on the ground or in a ship when deployed. The same is true for naval shore parties and all CF National Command Element and National Support Element personnel. In the maritime context, no one deploys on board a ship without the firefighting course, and everyone is assigned a duty station in an emergency. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for CF members deploying on the ground in theatres of operations. As a basic national premise, no one should be permitted to deploy overseas without a readiness to survive and to contribute to the environment into which they will be deploying.

If the CF accepted this perspective, then both basic and deployment training for the CF would change significantly, and we would easily be able to meet the intent and spirit of Duty with Honour. Such an attitude change would also ensure that the entire CF is actually available for expeditionary operations. It might also help to overcome critical manning shortfalls and the existing inequitable deployment loads.

Conclusion
Despite the concerns expressed here, it is difficult to argue against success. I readily acknowledge that all three services and our supporting institutions have indeed been successful. However, as military professionals, the question we need to ask is whether we are maximizing the combat capability of the CF and truly providing best value for money to both Canada and our allies. Even though defence dollars that can be devoted to joint operations capabilities are scarce, I would contend that we have a great deal of work left to do. In that we are about to launch into a significant defence review, perhaps this is an opportune time to consider many of the issues raised in this paper.


Brigadier-General G.W. Nordick is Commander of the Land Doctrine and Training System in Kingston.

Last Modified: 2004-09-08 Important Notices

[Officer of Engineers]

Canadian Military Journal

The Worm Revisited: An Examination of Fear and Courage in Combat
by Colonel Bernd Horn


The scouts were brewing tea in a nearby cow byre. They watched me without expression as I briefed George Langstaff and two other men. They knew I had at least glimpsed the valley in daylight and so was the logical one to lead the patrol. What they did not know was that the mere prospect of descending into that ominously shrouded valley was paralyzing me. I was convinced that death or ghastly mutilation awaited me there. The certainty was absolute! The Worm that was growing in my gut told me so.1
– Farley Mowat
And No Birds Sang

Fear is a subject that is rarely discussed in the military. In many ways it is taboo to do so. After all, fear is often equated with weakness and contrary to having a soldierly disposition. Moreover, it is seen as particularly unmanly in an institution that is still largely dominated by males. To most serving personnel, if there was only one quality that could be assigned to them, most would choose to be described as brave or courageous. One need only consider how often the phrase, “what are ya, scared?” has effectively motivated someone to perform a task that they would rather not have done.

But fear is a normal emotion. The essence of the issue is not whether a person experiences fear, but rather how it is controlled and utilized to benefit the effectiveness of military personnel in times of stress, danger and crisis. Conversely, the failure to recognize the reality of fear and its effects can have serious repercussions that manifest themselves at the most inopportune, if not catastrophic, moments. It is an unfortunate fact of military service – more accurately our military culture – that has led to the misguided perception that a soldier must never demonstrate or admit to fear.

Denial of fear has long been part of the military culture, which still maintains a great degree of bravado and machismo, particularly among young soldiers and junior officers. “Culture,” according to anthropologist Donna Winslow, “represents the behaviour patterns or style of an organization that members are automatically encouraged to follow.” She believes that “Culture shapes action by supplying some of the ultimate aims or values of an organization and actors modify their behaviour to achieve those ends.” She explains that culture “establishes a set of ideal standards and expectations that members are supposed to follow.”2 Quite simply, the culture existing within an organization socializes those within the group, particularly newcomers, and shapes their attitudes and behaviour to correspond to the existing framework. In sum, it creates common expectations of what is and what is not acceptable behaviour.

And so, military culture has a pervasive influence on how the issue of fear is handled within the institution, or more accurately, how it is ignored. It is generally seen as a distasteful subject that is better left alone. “An officer,” explained sociologist and former officer Anthony Kellet, “was expected to suppress fears and foreboding, and not to discuss them as [it was considered] lacking in martial spirit and boring to brother officers.”3 Samuel Hynes, in his scholarly research on the subject, found that the education and training of the majority of officers inculcated a belief that “fear and its expression are especially abhorrent.” He suggested that “young officers had been trained to an impossible ideal of leadership and self-control; not only must they lead their men fearlessly; they must be fearless.”4

But it is not only officers who are weighed down by this burden imposed by military culture. “When bullets are whacking against tree trunks and solid shot are cracking skulls like eggshells, the consuming passion in the breast of the average man is to get out of the way.” So wrote a young participant of the battle of Antietam in 1862. He added: “Between the physical fear of going forward and the moral fear of turning back, there is a predicament of exceptional awkwardness from which a hidden hole in the ground would be a wonderfully welcome outlet.”5 More recently, one investigative reporter discovered after a large number of interviews that: “It’s hard to confess fear to your buddy, let alone the platoon commander.”6 In fact, the chaplain of the 101st Airborne Division prior to the War in Iraq in 2003, revealed: “Few come to him openly professing fear of combat. ... The one who did said he was terribly ashamed to admit it.”7


Canadian War Museum 10043

HMCS Ville de Québec Gets a Sub. Painting by Commander Thomas H. Beament.


What Constitutes Fear?
In the simplest of terms, fear is an emotion, “a state characterized by physiological arousal, changes in facial expression, gestures, posture, and subjective feeling.”8 When we experience an intense emotion, such as fear, a number of bodily changes occur – including rapid heartbeat and breathing, dryness of the throat and mouth, perspiration, trembling, a sinking feeling in the stomach. It can also have more embarrassing manifestations. “And urine poured down our legs,” confessed one veteran, “Our fear was so great that we lost all thought of controlling ourselves.”9

The bodily changes during emotional arousal are due to the activation of the parasympathetic division of the autonomic nervous system as it prepares the body for emergency action – the ‘fight or flight’ reflex. In short, it prepares the body for energy output. It does this by way of a number of bodily changes, which need not occur simultaneously. They include increases in blood pressure as well as heart and respiration rates. There is a dilation of the pupils, an increase in perspiration with a concomitant decrease in the secretion of saliva and mucous, increases in blood sugar levels to provide additional energy. Other symptoms include the ability for blood to clot more rapidly in the case of wounds, the diversion of blood from the stomach and intestines to the brain and skeletal muscles, and the erection of hairs on skin surfaces, causing goose pimples.10

These changes all have specific purposes. The parasympathetic system activates the body for emergency action by arousing a number of bodily systems and inhibiting others. For example, sugar is released into the bloodstream for quick energy. The heart beats faster to supply blood to the muscles. The respiration rate increases to supply needed oxygen. Digestion is temporarily inhibited. Pupils dilate to allow in more light. Perspiration increases to cool the agitated body. And the blood flow to the skin is restricted to reduce bleeding.11 “The man who recognizes fear can often make it work in his favor,” suggested war reporter Mack Morriss, “because fear is energy. Like anger, fear shifts the body into high.”12 Once the crisis is over, the parasympathetic system reverses emotional arousal and calms and relaxes the body.

Researchers have determined that there are two types of fear. The first is acute fear that is generally provoked by tangible stimuli or situations, such as a loud bang or a snake suddenly slithering into view. This normally subsides quite quickly when the frightening stimuli is removed or avoided. The second type is chronic fear. This is generally more complex, and may or may not be tied to tangible sources of provocation. It is exemplified by an individual who persistently feels uneasy and anxious for unidentified reasons, such as the fear of being alone.13

Regardless of the type of fear, it need not be immediate or the result of personal experience. Fear is a learned reaction. “Men and animals,” reported John T. Wood, “experience fear in the face of present, anticipated, or imagined danger or pain.”14 Jeffrey Alan Gray, professor of psychology at the Institute of Psychiatry in London, agreed: “Fear ... is due to the anticipation of pain.”15

Beyond all the theories, it is important to examine fear in the context of the military. “Fear is a normal, inevitable, useful reaction to danger,” determined social anthropologist John Dollard in his seminal research on the subject. “It is a danger signal,” he added, “produced in a man’s body by his awareness of signs of danger in the world around him.” He concluded: “It is not fear that matters, but what a man does when he is afraid. ...Controlled fear has the power to incite a man to useful action. Uncontrolled fear is destructive; it has the power to incite in a man a senseless panic which further endangers his life.”16

Consequently, the objective of dealing with fear should be to manage fear. When the element of fear is too weak, individuals get reckless and expose themselves and others to unwarranted risk and peril. When it is too great, there is a lack of self-control. Fear can then become contagious and frequently leads to panic.

Research has provided some conclusive insights with respect to fear. First, it confirms that virtually everyone experiences it at one time or another. “Fear,” maintains the scholar Elmar Dinter, “is the most significant common denominator for all soldiers.”17 Studies have also confirmed, in general terms, that fear in younger and unmarried soldiers is marginally less than in older, married ones, and that junior officers and non-commissioned officers show a little less fear than the other ranks.18 Furthermore, most people appear to be more susceptible to fear when they are alone.19

What Causes Fear?
There are a number of stimuli, including the fear of the unknown and the unexpected. Retired combat veteran and military theorist Major-General Robert Scales, Jr. has suggested that “soldiers fear most the enemy they cannot see.”20 The medical officer assigned to the original ‘L’ Detachment of the British Special Air Service (SAS) in North Africa in 1941 wrote: “Why did we fear, and of what were we afraid? It was the continual uneasy anticipation and mental torture of anxiety.”21 Also, anecdotal evidence indicates that fear increases in foggy conditions or when it is dark, or with the loss of orientation following an unexpected enemy attack from the rear.22

A second major cause of fear is a feeling of hopelessness. This is often due to a perceived or actual inability in the face of danger to influence the probable outcome of events. Simply put, it is caused by a feeling of being threatened without the power to do anything about it. “A soldier cowering alone in the bottom of his foxhole finds himself alone and isolated from his buddies,” explained one veteran, “This feeling of isolation leads inevitably to vague imaginings and apprehensions – not only of dying, but of helpless inaction and the intense fear of being left to die alone.”23 “Fear,” asserted Professor S.J. Rachman from the Institute of Psychiatry at the University of London, “seems to feed on a sense of uncontrollability: it arises and persists when the person finds himself in a threatening situation over which he feels he has little or no control.” Research demonstrated that “...being in danger when one cannot fight back or take any other effective action, being idle or being insecure of the future, were the elements that tended to aggravate fear in combat.”24

Noise is yet another common stressor and major cause for trepidation. “As we had feared, we heard the roar of war again,” wrote one German veteran of the Eastern Front. “The noise,” he stated, “... in itself was enough to send a wave of terror through the ... men trapped beside the water.... Every man grabbed his things and began to run.... Frantic men were abandoning everything on the bank and plunging into the water to try to swim to the opposite shore.... Madness seemed to be spreading like wildfire.”25 An airborne officer reported that in Tunisia, in 1942, he witnessed a group of American ammunition carriers shocked into inactivity “simply by the tremendous noise of real fighting. Instead of getting the ammunition forward to a machine gun these men were huddled together, hugging the ground, shaking – pitifully unaware that their route was protected by a hill.”26

But it is not only the sound of munitions that creates a state of fear and panic. Even the dreaded Scottish Highlanders were overcome by the “appalling yells of the Canadians and Indians” at Fort Duquesne in 1758 and broke away in a wild and disorderly retreat. “Fear,” said Major Grant of the Highlanders, “got the better of every other passion; and I trust I shall never again see such a panic among troops.”27 Similarly, Hans-Heinrich Ludwig noted with trepidation the “wild choir of stormy Russian hurrahs.” He acknowledged: “The tendency of Russians to trumpet their assaults with bloodcurdling screams unsettled many Landsers [German infanteers].”28

Associated with noise, but adding an additional factor that generates fear, is immobility due to shelling or fire. Samuel Stouffer, in his classic study of the American soldier in the Second World War, reported that many veterans testified that the “severest fear-producing situation they encountered in combat was just such immobilization under artillery or mortar fire.”29 American veteran Glenn Searle acknowledged: “No matter how gung-ho you are, after about fifteen minutes of artillery shells screaming in and exploding all around you, you start to quiver not unlike a bowl of gelatin and your teeth chatter.” He conceded: “We did a lot of screaming.”30 The effect was the same in both combatant camps. “Those who weren’t struck dumb with fright howled like madmen,” wrote German veteran Guy Sajer.31 “For soldiers on the receiving end,” explained American Major-General Scales, “firepower creates a sense of stress and alarm made all the more fearsome by its impersonal and anonymous nature.”32



12e Régiment blindé du Canada (Milice)

Three Rivers Regiment tanks during the Battle of Termoli, on the Adriatic coast of Italy, 6 October 1943. Painting by W.S. Scott.

Yet another cause of fear is deprivation. It is a statement of the obvious to declare that all soldiers need sleep, food and drink regardless of their level of physical fitness. Practical experience in the Second World War, and in conflicts since, have demonstrated that the physical and psychological factors that lowered morale and sapped men’s courage were fatigue, hunger and thirst.33 However, very little conscious consideration has been given to a high tempo of operations or ensuring that all personnel, including headquarters staffs, commanders and soldiers, are given sufficient rest. Often forgotten in the army is the fact that the habits one forms in peacetime are those that are taken on operations and in war. The failure to ensure proper rest routines, coupled with the normally accepted practice of driving units and personnel relentlessly, is easily dismissed during short exercises and non-combat operations. Without question, testing individuals and units is important, and the stress induced does provide a glimpse of how personnel perform under duress. However, it also has a detrimental effect if leaders are not well informed about the importance of rest and proper nourishment to combat effectiveness.

Paradoxically, there is a symbiotic relationship between fatigue and fear. The more fatigued people become, the more susceptible they become to fear. The greater their fear, the greater is the drain on their energy. “Tired men fright (sic) more easily,” observed Colonel S.L.A. Marshall in his decades of battlefield studies, and he concluded that “frightened men swiftly tire.”34 Extreme fatigue ultimately makes it impossible for some men to continue to function. “We learned,” asserted Corporal Dan Hartigan, “that the lack of sleep was the worst of all deprivations, far worse than hunger or thirst.”35 One German veteran stated: “The exhaustion we had been dragging about with us for days increased the fear we could no longer control.” He explained that the “fear intensified our exhaustion, as it required constant vigilance.”36

Psychologist F.C. Bartlett concurs with this assessment. “In war,” he insisted, “there is perhaps no general condition ... more likely to produce a large crop of nervous and mental disorders than a state of prolonged and great fatigue.” This is the result of physiological arousal caused by the stress of existing in what is commonly understood as a continual ‘fight-or-flight’ condition, cumulative loss of sleep, a reduction in caloric intake, and the toll taken by the elements such as rain, cold, heat and dark of night.37

Somewhat surprisingly, scholars have noted that the fear of killing is another high-profile stressor for soldiers. Western culture instils in individuals, from an early age, the value of life, and the abhorrence of killing others, and this is deeply rooted in the psyche of soldiers. A lack of “offensive spirit” was widely reported during the Second World War. One 1943 report noted that the “average Jack was quite amazingly lethargic.”38 Lieutenant-Colonel Robert Cole lamented that “not one man in twenty-five voluntarily used his weapon” even though they were under attack.39

Another root cause of fear for soldiers is the threat of being killed or wounded. “I suddenly felt terribly afraid,” confessed one German veteran, “It would probably be my turn soon. I would be killed, just like that ... as my panic rose, my hands began to tremble ... and I sank into total despair.”40

However, the fear of failing one’s comrades, or of being a coward, has historically been one of the preeminent fears of soldiers of all ages and all ranks. “I’m afraid of being afraid,” wrote Captain J.E.H. Neville to his father during the First World War.41 He was not alone. “Most men, if honestly answering ‘What was your greatest fear?’” insisted Canadian paratrooper A. H. Carignan, “will tell you that it was the fear that one might not fulfill the expectations of his comrades under extreme duress.”42 Sergeant Andy Anderson agreed. “My personal concern,” he confided to his diary, “is that I can measure up, and not let anyone down.”43 Lieutenant-Colonel Colin Mitchell confessed: “I had the usual new boy’s dreadful fear of failing and I was much more frightened of that than any of the horror going on around me.”44

The conflicts may change, but not the underlying fears. Recently, 22-year-old American Private Jeffrey Hren confided before engaging in combat in Iraq in 2003: “I don’t want to let down my team, my squad, my company.” His colleague, Private Gene Marr, concurred. “I tell myself, don’t choke.”45

Manifestations and Effects
Understanding what creates fear in soldiers on the battlefield is not enough. It is also important to understand the manifestations of fear. Professor Dollard determined that the most common symptoms of fear were pounding of heart and rapid pulse, tenseness of muscles, sinking feelings, dryness of mouth and throat, and trembling and sweating.46 Similarly, Second World War aircrew studies showed that the symptoms of fear experienced during combat included palpitations, dryness of mouth, sweating, stomach discomfort, excessive urination, trembling, tension and irritability. The most persistent were tension, tremor and sleep disturbance.47


Canadian Forces Photo Unit PL 15626

Flying stress. Aircrew from 417 Fighter Squadron after flying a mission with the Desert Air Force in Libya, 21 February 1943.

But it is not necessarily the symptoms that are of consequence. More importantly, it is the effect fear has on individuals and units that must be considered, and the consequences can be devastating. First, it affects performance. After decades of battlefield studies, S.L.A. Marshall determined that “in the measure that the man is shocked nervously, and that fear comes uppermost, he becomes physically weak.” He added that the “body is drained of muscular power and of mental coordination.”48 Anecdotal accounts from Omaha Beach on 6 June 1944 demonstrated that some men “were so weak from fear that they found it physically impossible to carry much more than their own weight.” Staff Sergeant Thomas Turner revealed: “We were all surprised to find that we had suddenly gone weak.... Under fire we learned that fear and fatigue are about the same in their effect on an advance.”49


Also, the effect on performance is even more pervasive, and it frequently debilitates individuals. Dan Ray of the US 36th Infantry Division recalled preparing to ambush a group of German soldiers in the Colmar Pocket. “I was shaking so bad from fright,” he declared, “I had to brace my knees against the sides of the hole so that I could be ready to function.”50

Professor Dollard discovered that fear also led to overly cautious behaviour. Of those he questioned, 59 percent stated that there were occasions when they were too cautious and had their efficiency reduced by fear. But even more deleterious to performance is when fear leads to panic. With respect to the British experience in North America: “The men from what storys (sic) they had heard of the Indians in regard to their scalping and Mawhawking,” wrote a British officer in his journal, “were so pannick (sic) struck that their officers had little or no command over them.”51

Visual stimuli can have a similar effect. During a German counter-attack following the invasion of Sicily in 1943, Wehrmacht armour advanced towards the American lines. One historian described how their menacing long 88-millimetre cannons shone in the sun, at the same time as the enemy artillery opened up a barrage. “As if on cue, infantrymen of the 2nd Battalion of the 16th Regiment scrambled out of their holes and began rushing pell-mell to the rear,” he wrote, “At first it was only a handful, then more and more joined in, until within minutes two-thirds of the Big Red One battalion had urgently departed.”52

The timelessly infectious nature of panic was confirmed by United States Marine Corps Lieutenant Philip Caputo in Vietnam. He witnessed a tough sergeant curse and kick a soldier who collapsed in tears unable to take any more combat. “None of us did a thing to stop Horne because we felt the same terror,” he confessed, “And we knew that that kind of fear was a contagion and the marine a carrier ... beat him, kick him, beat that virus out of him before it spreads.”53 The belief that fear could be spread was widely held. Dollard found that 75 percent of the veterans he questioned expressed the view that “fear can be contagious [and] that it can be transmitted from one soldier to another.”54

That fear affects performance – either through increasing fatigue, a change in bodily function or capability to perform, and at the extreme leads to panic – is well documented. However, it must also be recognized that there is a positive component to fear as well if it is managed properly. “We fought,” maintained Guy Sager, “from simple fear which was our motivating power.” Fear also sharpens an individual’s senses and makes one more alert, mainly because of the release of adrenaline in the body. Panama veteran Sergeant First Class James Coroy, from the 101st Airborne (Air Assault) Division noted: “Fear is not that bad, because it heightens your senses.”55 In fact, a US Air Force study found 50 percent of the airmen reported that fear sometimes improved their efficiency.56


Canadian War Museum

Canadian sailors in a life raft after their ship was sunk in the Atlantic. Painting by Commander Thomas H. Beament.

Direct performance aside, fear can also cause severe emotional stress and psychiatric breakdown. German scholar Stephen G. Fritz noted: “Fear was the real enemy of most Landsers: fear of death or of cowardice, fear of the conflict within the spirit ... or, a simple fear of showing fear. Men felt haunted, hollowed on the inside by pockets of fear that would not go away, caught in the grip of something enormous about to overwhelm them.”57 German veteran Will Thomas recognized the mental strain that fear exacted. “The psychological load,” he explained, “presses harder than the burden of the almost superhuman physical exertions.”58

Professor Kellet’s examination of Second World War experiences led him to believe that: “More than anything else, fear itself is the critical ingredient in psychiatric breakdown in combat.... (It) causes a strain so great that it causes men to break down.”59 Stouffer’s seminal work reported that 83 percent of those questioned asserted that they had the experience of seeing “a man’s nerves ‘crack up’ at the front.”60 The importance of a fear management education program becomes evident, not only because of the effects of fear on individuals, but also because there is a cascading effect. Seventy percent of 1700 American veterans surveyed in Italy in 1944 said that they became nervous or depressed, or their morale suffered, at the sight of another man’s psychiatric breakdown.61

Fear can also impact adversely upon decision-making. Research has shown “that during stressful combat-like training, every aspect of cognitive function assessed was severely degraded, compared to the subjects’ own baseline, pre-stress performance.” Moreover, the magnitude of the deficits was greater than those typically produced by alcohol intoxication or treatment with sedating drugs. The study team concluded that “on the battlefield, the severe decrements we measured ... would significantly impair the ability of warfighters to perform their duties.” Specifically, the team determined that extended periods of pressure and fear lead to over-reaction, an increase in wrong decisions and inconsistency.62 Similarly, Professor Dinter noted that fear and exhaustion will also reduce the willingness to make decisions at all.63 Anecdotal evidence provided in war literature and interviews with veterans clearly endorses these findings.

What becomes worrisome is that fear has a cumulative effect. Dollard’s research indicated that fear increases in proportion to the duration of the engagement and the number of frightening incidents endured by an individual.64 Scottish historian Hew Strachan concluded that “the battle-hardened veteran was a mythical figure.” He discovered that “sustained exposure to danger did not harden a soldier but eroded his limited resources.”65 Another contemporary report concluded: “All soldiers have a breaking point beyond which their effective performance in combat diminishes.”66 Quite simply, even the most psychologically strong person will eventually succumb. No one ever becomes accustomed to fear – it is just a matter of trying to control it.

One study conducted during the Second World War by Lieutenant-Colonel J.W. Appel and Captain G. W. Beebe, observed: “Each moment of combat imposes a strain so great that men will break down in direct relation to the intensity and duration of their exposure ... the average point at which this occurred appears to have been in the region of 200-240 aggregate combat days.” The British estimated that a rifleman would last for about 400 combat days – the longer period being attributable to the fact that they tended to relieve troops in the line for a four-day rest after approximately twelve days.67 However, after 200-240 days of combat, the average soldier became “so overly cautious and jittery that he was ineffective and demoralizing to the newer men.”68


The Antidote of Courage
If fear is so prevalent, and its manifestations so overwhelming, why then do we have heroes? Is courage not an attribute that trumps fear? An examination of courage is revealing, but also problematic, because there is no universal definition or understanding of the term. Most would agree that it is a quality that all wish to have. “I do not believe,” extolled Field Marshal Slim, “that there is any man who would not rather be called brave than have any other virtue attributed to him.”69 Courage is often seen in two lights – one as an act or action such as a single desperate act, such as the storming of a pillbox or falling on a grenade, the second, as Socrates offered, as a very noble quality. But what is it exactly?

The Canadian Oxford Dictionary defines courage as “the ability to disregard fear; bravery (i.e. able or ready to face and endure danger, pain, adversity, etc...).”70 Similarly, the American Standard Dictionary states courage is: “The quality of mind which meets danger or opposition with intrepidity, calmness and firmness; the quality of being fearless; bravery.” It further states that “the brave man combines confidence with firm resolution in the face of danger. To be courageous is more than being brave, adding the element of morale. The courageous man steadily encounters perils to which he may be keenly sensitive, at the call of duty.” The British Chambers Dictionary explains courage as “the quality that enables men to meet danger without giving way to fear; bravery (courage, heroism; to brave – to meet boldly, to defy, to face, spirit). And finally, the Israeli Ben Shushan dictionary depicts courage as “strength, power, might.”71 In all cases, the underlying theme is a human trait or quality.

This theme has been further developed by scholars, researchers and veterans. Stouffer noted there was an internal struggle between an individual’s impulses toward personal safety and comfort and the social compulsions which drove them into danger and discomfort. “Sometimes a guy would say, ‘How do I keep going?’ You have to fight with yourself. You didn’t want to be a quitter....’ In the case of the combat soldier, this internal fight was one of the factors which sometimes lay at the root of neuropsychiatric breakdowns involving gross disorganization of behaviour.”72 Anecdotal accounts reinforce this view. “I will not be a coward, so I pray a lot to God,” confessed Walter Happich, “I know against what opponent I must fight.” Horstmar Seitz, another German soldier commented: “We must often conquer ourselves.”73

Dollard’s studies revealed that: “Courage is not fearlessness; it is being able to do the job even when afraid.”74 Professor Rachman formulated that “true courage” was a quality of “those people who are willing and able to approach a fearful situation despite the presence of subjective fear and psychophysiological disturbances.”75 S.L.A. Marshall considered courage more than an innate quality. Courage and cowardice to him are alternative free choices that come to every man. These views accord well with that of Lord Moran in his classic work, The Anatomy of Courage. Moran theorized that courage was “a moral quality” and “not a chance gift of nature.” He asserted: “It is the cold choice between two alternatives, it is the fixed resolve not to quit, an act of renunciation which must be made not once but many times by the power of will.” He essentially concluded that “courage is willpower.”76


Canadian Forces Photo Unit PL 11314

A member of a Canadian bomber crew after a mission. Back from Essen, drawing by Paul Goranson.

Controlling Fear
And so, it would appear that courage is a foil for fear, but fear need not be shrouded in uncertainty. In fact, all officers, NCOs and soldiers can take measures to help manage fear. However, to contend with fear, one must be able to recognize it before it becomes so strong that nothing can be done to surmount it. One must recognize the symptoms, understand where to expect danger, and comprehend the conditions under which fear builds up. Although impossible to eradicate completely, fear can be controlled to maximize individual and unit performance.

The first strategy for controlling fear is to explain that it is a normal occurrence and to encourage discussion of it. The existence of fear must not be repressed by individuals, nor should those who articulate their fear be ridiculed. Research has indicated that eight out of ten combat veterans felt that it is better to admit fear and discuss it openly before battle. The belief that “the man who knows he will be afraid and tries to get ready for it makes a better soldier,” was shared by 58 percent of those surveyed.77 “If it [fear] is allowed to back up in a man, unspoken and unaired in any way,” explained war correspondent Mack Morriss, “it can form a clot and create an obstacle to normal action.”78

The key factor identified by combat veterans was not the fact that someone had fear, but rather, “the effort to overcome the withdrawal tendencies engendered by intense fear.”79 Stouffer determined that when a person regards fear reactions as a normal response to a dangerous situation, one is less likely to be disturbed, once the danger has subsided, by self-reproaches of cowardice, unmanliness, or other accusations that lower self-esteem. Moreover, in the face of danger, a source of conflict is eliminated if one accepts the notion that he need not fear the loss of status and esteem in the eyes of his fellows if he trembles, gasps, and exhibits other marked fear symptoms while carrying out his job.80

The failure to acknowledge fear has tangible and substantive costs. For example, paratroopers are generally recognized as having some of the highest casualty rates and the most difficult situations to cope with in combat. Yet, as a group they have an attitude that does not permit free expressions of anxiety and fear. “In an atmosphere where everyone is tough, rough and ready for the worst,” explained Stouffer, “anxiety cannot be verbalized or [be] socially accepted.” But, as a result, he discovered that neurotic reactions among paratroopers “are apt to take the form of conversion symptoms involving the lower extremities – weakness or paralysis of one or both legs.” Similarly, British officers who suffered from the same type of self-imposed intolerance tended to suffer from paralysis of limbs, and in extreme cases, suicides.81

Another vital method for controlling fear is training and education.82 Flavius Renatus asserted in 378 AD that “the courage of the soldier is heightened by the knowledge of his profession.” Knowledge is the key as it provides confidence – not only in self, but in one’s comrades, equipment and tactics. This is achieved through realistic training, as well as a complete understanding of the realm of conflict. This reduces the fear of the unexpected and the unknown.

For example, realistic training, such as battle simulation, intense tempo, stress, physical exertion and fatigue, can create reasonable expectations of how long a unit can maintain combat effectiveness. It is also valuable to the extent it inculcates in soldiers the realization that they can survive on the battlefield. Major John Masters, a Second World War Chindit commander, explained that it is “easy to be brave when a little experience has taught you that there is nothing to be afraid of.”83

Dollard explained that “fear is useful to the soldier when it drives him to learn better in training and to act sensibly in battle.”84 Stouffer believed that fear aroused in training could serve a useful purpose. He argued that it “can motivate men to learn those habits which will reduce danger in battle.” He explained that “training benefits by accustoming – taking away the unknown unfamiliar element.” He concluded that “a certain amount of adaptation to the extremely loud noises and other stimuli probably takes place with repeated exposures so that when the stimuli are encountered in battle they elicit less fear.”85

As such, it is critical to add the element of ambiguity and the unknown in all training activities. In addition, training should be conducted at night, in poor light and in unknown surroundings. Moreover, it should include situations where things go wrong. This will help inoculate individuals to the fear of the unknown and accustom them to dealing with adversity. Demanding adventure training in remote regions is invaluable, as it varies from the routine and incorporates real, unexpected events that must be dealt with on the spot.


The beneficial effect of realistic training is undisputed. Research has shown that “the general level of anxiety in combat would tend to be reduced insofar as the men derived from training a high degree of self-confidence about their ability to take care of themselves. ... Troops who expressed a high degree of self-confidence before combat were more likely to perform with relatively little fear during battle.”86 It has also been determined that confidence is perhaps the greatest source of emotional strength that a soldier can draw upon. Numerous studies have shown that well-led and cohesive units tend to have fewer stress casualties than units lower in these qualities.87 Confidence, in turn, can be instilled through training, education and fitness. It can also be heightened through sound leadership, team cohesion and dependable equipment. The value of training is also derived from its ability to create an element of habit and routine, such as the development of instinctive reactions. Drill, for instance, is utilized to teach the instinctive reaction of a body of troops to commands. “What is learnt in training,” insisted Commando commander Lord Lovat, “is done instinctively in action – almost without thinking down to the last man.”88 Further, the adherence to simple daily routines, such as the ritual of shaving, provides a sense of normalcy, of reassurance to individuals. This is vital in maintaining an equilibrium that helps combatants to perform consistently. Major John Masters suggested that in regard to meals deep in the Burmese jungles: “It was not the food that refreshed and renewed us as much as the occasion.”89 Lord Lovat further summed it up when he declared that “habit is ten times nature.”90


Canadian War Museum 12172

Infantry near Nijmegen, Holland. Painting by Alex Colville.

In the same manner, discipline and response to leadership are crucial variables shaping attitudes among combat veterans. The role of discipline is one of providing a psychological defence that helps the soldier to control fear and to ignore danger through habitual, near-instinctive performance. “It is a function of discipline,” extolled Field Marshal Montgomery, “to fortify the mind so that it becomes reconciled to unpleasant sights and accepts them as normal everyday occurrences. ... Discipline strengthens the mind so that it becomes impervious to the corroding influence of fear. ... It instils the habit of self control.”91

Humour is another important motivational element and it acts to release tension. Second World War veteran Howard Ruppel of the 517th Parachute Infantry Regiment observed: “When circumstances become unbearable, the experienced soldier with some sense of humor and the ability to laugh at one’s self has a better chance to retain his sanity than the serious minded fellow.”92 For some, religion and faith have provided a foil for fear. Max Kocour of the 90th Infantry Division revealed that faith among combat men was usually a general belief in God and was not centred around any particular religion or denomination. “We developed faith,” he offered, “regardless of religions, which had been created by man, we felt we were on the right side of faith, under the protection/care of a truly fine Supreme Being.” Others maintained that prayers actually helped them through some of the worst of circumstances.93

Still others have relied upon more artificial tools for controlling their angst. Alcohol and drugs have been a time-honoured way of dealing with pain, fear and stress – their use often more widespread than has been generally acknowledged. British regiments fought at the Battle of Waterloo in 1815 with barrels of whisky in the centre of their Squares. “Had it not been for the rum ration,” testified one British medical officer to the 1922 Shell Shock Committee, “I do not think we should have won the war.”94 Prior to the Dieppe Raid, the commandos were given a breakfast served with rum which at least one veteran of the raid credited with allowing them to keep the contents of their stomach despite the devastation, carnage and death they faced that morning.95 The Japanese and Russians regularly plied their soldiers with alcohol prior to their fanatical human wave charges. The American and Russian experiences in Vietnam and Afghanistan respectively are laden with accounts of substance abuse as a means of coping. Although drugs and alcohol have frequently been used to help manage combat anxiety, their success is usually of only marginal value. They only alleviate anxiety temporarily, but more importantly, they reduce the ability to act in a rational and coordinated manner, and there are often long-term consequences associated with their use.

A more effective tool for fear management, and one with less harmful side effects, is the timely and accurate passage of information. In the chaos of battle, information is empowerment. Quite simply, knowledge dissipates the unknown and dampens groundless rumours and fears. “If a soldier knows what is happening and what is expected of him,” explained a veteran British officer, “he is far less frightened than the soldier who is just walking towards unknown dangers.”96

The passage of information is predicated upon effective communications, which are equally vital to staving off the effects of fear. It is critical to keep personnel informed as much as possible about virtually everything. It is not only the content of the message that is important but also the process itself. Regular communications with troops assure them they are not alone, that they are still part of a team. Initially during the Second World War, the Allies believed that German and Japanese night attacks were amateurish and disorganized because of the excessive amount of yelling that was used. However, they later discovered that this was deliberate – not only a means of control, but also as fear management.


National Archives of Canada PA 136205

Canadian infantrymen running for cover during the fight for the Hitler Line in Italy, 22 May 1944.

Yet another powerful tool for controlling fear is strong group cohesion. As already noted, the greatest fear felt by most combat soldiers is the fear of letting down their comrades. This is a powerful impetus not to allow fear to create panic. Paratrooper John Agnew explained: “Pride in Regiment and Division and being able to depend on each other makes individuals courageous regardless of fear, don’t let your comrades down.”97 S.L.A. Marshall asserted: “I hold it to be one of the simplest truths of war that the thing which enables an infantry soldier to keep going with his weapons is the near presence or the presumed presence of a comrade.”98


This sense of obligation, coupled with a sense of responsibility for ensuring the well-being of others, also generates a feeling of responsibility for upholding the reputation of the unit. This sense of responsibility also helps alleviate fear. Creating demanding expectations of combat behaviour in members and then linking soldiers’ self-esteem to the reputation of the unit and the welfare of their fellow soldiers is a powerful motivating force. Many believe that a man behaves as a hero or a coward based upon the expectations of others of how he is to behave. “The overwhelming majority of men,” reported Dollard, “felt that they ‘fought better after observing other men behaving calmly in a dangerous situation.”99 Marshall insisted that “no matter how lowly his rank, any man who controls himself automatically contributes to the control of others.” He added, “Fear is contagious but courage is not less so.”100 Studies of submarine crews demonstrated that they suffered extremely low rates of psychiatric breakdown. This was attributed to a number of factors – all were volunteers who were required to meet rigid educational and physical standards for entry, the training required was very thorough, morale and confidence were high and a successful rotation scheme was used. Of a grand total of 126,160 patrols carried out by these crews, there were only 62 cases of psychiatric difficulty, an infinitesimally-small percentage.101 Similarly, in John Flanagan’s seventeen volume report on performance of US combat air crews during the Second World War, he noted: “The primary motivating force which more than anything else kept these men flying and fighting was that they were members of a group in which flying and fighting was the only accepted way of behaving.”102 Similar studies mirror these results for the British and Dominion aircrew experiences.

In consonance, studies of German forces during the war reinforced that the key to their success, despite the worsening situation, was the strength of the primary group. Clearly, when the primary group developed a high degree of cohesion, morale was high and resistance became more effective.

But leadership is also a critical element. Dollard noted that 89 percent of those surveyed emphasized the importance of getting frequent instructions from leaders when they were in a tight spot.103 Furthermore, evidence clearly indicates that leaderless groups normally become inactive.104 Not surprisingly, Samuel Stouffer found that “cool and aggressive leadership was especially important” in pressing troops forward in dangerous and fearful situations, such as storming across a beach raked by fire.105

This finding is based on the fact that “role modeling” has an extremely important influence on a person’s reaction to threatening situations. With regard to the evocation of courageous behaviour, American enlisted men who served during the Second World War told interviewers that ‘top down’ combat leadership was very important.106 Most research has reinforced the intuitive deduction that “men like to follow an experienced man.... [He] knows how to accomplish objectives with a minimum of risk. He sets an example of coolness and efficiency which impels similar behaviour in others.” In this regard, the presence of strong thoughtful leadership creates “a force which helps resist fear.”107 A wounded veteran from North Africa put it in perspective. He explained: “Everybody wants somebody to look up to when he’s scared.”108 “A brave captain,” affirmed Sir Philip Sidney, “is as a root, out of which, as branches, the courage of his soldiers doth spring.”109

But this only results if there is implicit trust in the leadership. Soldiers must believe that leaders mean what they say. Body language, tone and eye contact all betray insincerity. Actions must match words. In the end, it comes down to setting the example. A leader must never ask, or expect, troops to do that which he or she is unwilling to do. Stouffer’s study showed that what the officers did, rather than what they said, was important. “I personally recall,” wrote Sergeant Andy Anderson, “when in the advance in Germany, our platoon was ‘on point’ and we suddenly came under small arms fire from our front and my men all took to the ditches. I was peering about, under some cover to get a fix on the enemy. In a matter of minutes, I felt a poke in my back from a walking stick and it was the brigadier with a smile. His comment was simply, ‘not to hold up the entire Division,’ so ‘press on’, which is what we did. The point is, that you have no idea what confidence is carried to the troops when you have great leadership.”110

Another tool for managing fear is simple activity. John Dollard found that veteran soldiers quickly learn that meaningful activity permits less time to dwell upon trepidation. “When fear is strong, keep your mind on the job at hand.”111 Major-General T.S. Hart, former Director of Medical Services in Britain, agreed. “There is no doubt,” he asserted, “that inactivity at a time of tension breeds fear and that the best antidote ... is purposeful action.”112 Robert Crisp, a tank troop commander in North Africa in 1941, acknowledged that “when the race is begun or the innings started, the fullness of the moment overwhelms the fear of anticipation. It is so in battle. When mind and body are fully occupied, it is surprising how unfrightened you can be.”113

Conclusions
In the end, there need not be a stigma surrounding fear. The essence of the issue is not whether one experiences fear, but rather how one deals with fear. It can be controlled and utilized to benefit the effectiveness of individuals and units in times of danger. Conversely, the failure to recognize the reality of fear and its effects can have serious repercussions that manifest themselves at the most disadvantageous moments.

Therefore, it is important to ensure that the necessary steps are taken to lessen the impact of anxieties and fears. Discuss their causes and their impacts to ensure that the perceptions and expectations of leaders and subordinates alike are realistic. Imbue confidence in individuals, teams and equipment, and develop strategies to allow all to feel a sense of control over their destiny, regardless of the activity or the operation. Develop contingency planning and undertake additional training and education so that individuals are better able to cope with the unknown or unexpected.

Finally, remember that the emotion of fear also has positive physiological consequences upon the body, namely, heightened awareness and strength. A proper understanding of fear, its causes and manifestations, and how to control and counter fears can actually provide an edge that may make the difference between success and failure – between life and death.


Colonel Bernd Horn, PhD, an infantry officer, is Director of the Canadian Forces Leadership Institute in Kingston, Ontario.

Notes
Farley Mowat, prior to becoming an internationally acclaimed author, was an infantry officer engaged in some of the bloodiest and most intense battles of the Italian Campaign in the Second World War. His “Worm” was the cumulative stress of anticipated and experienced combat. It was, in his words, “The Worm That Never Died.” From Farley Mowat, And No Birds Sang (Toronto: McClelland and Stewart, 1979), p. 220.
Donna Winslow, “Changing Military Culture,” presentation to NDHQ Daily Executive Meeting, Ottawa, Ontario, 17 November 1999.
Anthony Kellett, Combat Motivation – Operational Research and Analysis Establishment (ORAE) Report No. R77 (Ottawa: DND, 1980), p. 194.
Samuel Hynes, The Soldier’s Tale. Bearing Witness to Modern War (New York: Penguin Press, 1997), pp. 63-64.
Jay Luvaas and Harold Nelson, The Army War College Guide to Antietam (Carlisle, Pennsylvania: South Mountain Press, 1987), p. 246.
Gregg Zoroya, “As war looms, young soldiers confront fear; ‘Black Hawk Down’ scenario among worries,” USA Today, 18 March 2003, p. A1.
Ibid.
Dennis Coon, Introduction to Psychology, 8th Edition (New York: Brooks/Cole Publishing Company, 1998), p. 429.
Stephen G. Fritz, Frontsoldaten (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1995), p. 139.
Rita Atkinson, Richard Atkinson, Edward Smith, Daryl Bem and Susan Nolen- Hoeksema, eds., Hilgard’s Introduction to Psychology, 12th Edition (New York: Harcourt Brace College Publishers, 1996), pp. 379-380.
David M. Myers, Psychology, 4th Edition (Holland, Michigan: Worth Publishers, 1995), p. 433. See also Coon, p. 431.
John C. McManus, The Deadly Brotherhood. The American Combat Soldier in World War II (Novato: Presidio Press, 1998), p. 251.
Stanley J. Rachman, Fear and Courage (San Francisco: W.H. Freeman, 1978), p. 6.
John T. Wood, What Are You Afraid Of? (Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice Hall, 1976), p. 22.
Jeffrey Alan Gray, The Psychology of Fear and Stress, 2nd Edition (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987), p. 19.
John Dollard, Fear in Battle (Westport, Connecticut: Greenwood Press, 1944), p. 56. Dollard’s research was based on his study of 300 American volunteers who fought in the Spanish Civil War.
Elmar Dinter, Hero or Coward: Pressures Facing the Soldiers in Battle (London: Frank Cass, 1985), p. 12.
Ibid., p. 24.
Rachman, p. 84.
Major-General (ret’d) Robert H. Scales, Jr., Yellow Smoke. The Future of Land Warfare for America’s Military (New York: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, 2003), p. 168.
Malcolm James, Born of the Desert. With the SAS in North Africa (London: Greenhill Books, 2001), p. 125.
Dinter, pp. 18 & 98; and Wood, pp. 28-29.
Scales, p. 58.
Rachman, pp. 50-52.
Guy Sajer, The Forgotten Soldier (New York: Brassey’s, 1990), p. 257.
Don Wharton, “Bringing the War to the Training Camps,” The Reader’s Digest, Vol. 42, No. 254, June 1943, p. 37.
Charles Hamilton, ed., Braddock’s Defeat. The Journal of Captain Robert Cholmley’s Batman; The Journal of a British Officer; and Halkett’s Orderly Book (Norman, Oklahoma: University of Oklahoma Press, 1959), p. 50. See also Francis Parkman, Montcalm and Wolfe (New York: Modern Library, 1999), p. 333.
Fritz, p. 151.
Samuel A. Stouffer, The American Soldier. Combat and its Aftermath, Volume II (Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1949), p. 83; and Rachman, p. 82.
McManus, p. 250.
Sajer, p. 192.
Scales, p. 57.
Major P.B. Deb, “The Anatomy of Courage,” Army Quarterly, Vol. 127, No. 4, October 1997, p. 405.
S.L.A. Marshall, The Soldier’s Load and the Mobility of a Nation (Quantico, Virginia: The Marine Corps Association, 1950), p.
Max Arthur, Men of the Red Beret, Airborne Forces, 1940-1990 (London: Century Hutchinson, 1990), p. 163; 1 Canadian Parachute Battalion War Diary, 9 June 1944. NA, RG 24, Vol. 15299, June 1944.
Fritz, p. 121. See also Rachman, p. 25.
Lieutenant-Colonel Dave Grossman, On Killing (New York: Little, Brown and Company, 1996), p. 69.
Joanna Bourke, An Intimate History of Killing (London: Granta Books, 1999), pp. 73-74.
S.L.A. Marshall, Men Against Fire, Alexandria: Byrrd Enterprises, 1947), p. 72.
Sajer, p. 245.
Richard Holmes, Acts of War. The Behaviour of Men in Battle (New York: The Free Press, 1985), p. 141.
Private A.H. Carignan – Interviews, letters and recollections compiled by Gary Boegal for the 1 Canadian Parachute Battalion Association.
R.F. Anderson, “From the Rhine to the Baltic,” 1 Canadian Parachute Battalion Association Archives, File 11-2, Anderson, R.F.
Lieutenant-Colonel Colin Mitchell, Having Been a Soldier (London: Mayflower Books, n.d.), p. 50.
Zoroya, p. A1.
Dollard, p. 2.
Rachman, p. 52.
Marshall, The Soldier’s Load, p. 41.
Ibid., pp. 43-44.
McManus, p. 251.
Walter O’Meara, Guns at the Forks (Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press, 1965), p. 147.
William Breuer, Drop Zone Sicily. Allied Airborne Strike, July 1943 (Novato, California: Presidio, 1983), pp. 119-120.
Philip Caputo, Rumour of War (New York: Ballantine Books, 1977), pp. 273-274.
Dollard, p. 28; and Rachman, p. 76.
Zoroya, p. A1. See also text and endnote, p. 17.
Rachman, p. 60.
Fritz, p. 134.
Ibid., p. 138.
Kellett, p. 268.
Stouffer, pp. 124-125, p. 134, pp. 208-209. See also Rachman, p. 61, pp. 76-78.
Stouffer, pp. 209.
H.R. Lieberman, G.P. Bathalon, C.M. Falco, J.H. Georgelis, C.A. Morgan III, P. Niro and W.J. Tharion, “The Fog of War: Documenting Cognitive Decrements Associated with the Stress of Combat,” Proceedings of the 23rd Army Science Conference, December 2002, abstract.
Dinter, p. 82.
Dollard, p. 22.
Quoted in Brigadier-General Denis Whitaker and Shelagh Whitaker, Rhineland. The Battle to End the War (Toronto: Stoddart, 2000), p. 351.
Jeremy Manton, Carlene Wilson and Helen Braithwaite, “Human factors in field training for battle: realistically reproducing chaos,” in Michael Evans and Alan Ryan, eds., The Human Face of Warfare. Killing, Fear and Chaos in Battle (St Leonards, Australia: Allen & Unwin, 2000), p. 188.
Holmes, p. 215. See also Rachman, pp. 11, 22.
William Ian Miller, The Mystery of Courage (Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University Press, 2000), p. 61. Yet another research report confirmed that after approximately thirty days of combat there was noticeable decline in combat performance. See Jeremy Manton, Carlene Wilson and Helen Braithwaite, “Human factors in field training for battle: realistically reproducing chaos,” in Michael Evans and Alan Ryan, eds., The Human Face of Warfare. Killing, Fear and Chaos in Battle (St Leonards, Australia: Allen & Unwin, 2000), p. 188.
Quoted in Major-General F.M. Richardson, Fighting Spirit – A Study of Psychological Factors in War (London: Leo Cooper, 1978), p. 67.
Katherine Barber, ed., The Canadian Oxford Dictionary (Don Mills, Ontario: The Oxford University Press, 1998), pp. 170, 323.
Definitions quoted from Ben Shalit, The Psychology of Conflict and Combat (New York: Praeger, 1988), p. 97.
Stouffer, p. 84.
Fritz, p. 135.
Dollard, p. 57.
Rachman, p. 25.
Sir Charles Wilson (Lord Moran), The Anatomy of Courage (New York: Avery Publishing Group, 1987), p. 61.
Dollard, pp. 2-3 and p. 24. They also felt that thinking the enemy is just as frightened is also helpful in controlling fear.
McManus, p. 251.
Ibid., p. 200.
Ibid., p. 205.
Stouffer, p. 206.
Training is defined as “a predictable response to a predictable situation,” as opposed to education which is “the reasoned response to an unpredictable situation – critical thinking in the face of the unknown.” Professor Ronald Haycock, former Dean of Arts, Royal Military College (RMC), “Clio and Mars in Canada: The Need for Military Education,” presentation to the Canadian Club, Kingston, Ontario, 11 November 1999.
John Masters, The Road Past Mandalay (London: Cassell, 2003), p. 271.
Dollard, pp. 2-3. See also Stouffer, p. 195.
Stouffer, p. 223.
Rachman, pp. 63-64.
J.G. Hunt and J.D. Blair, Leadership on the Future Battlefield (New York: Brassey’s, 1986), p. 215.
Fowler, p. 55.
Masters, p. 198.
Quoted in Will Fowler, The Commandos at Dieppe: Rehearsal for D-Day (London: Harper Collins, 2002), p. 55.
Field Marshal Bernard L. Montgomery, “Discipline from Morale in Battle: Analysis,” The Officer. A Manual of Leadership for Officers in the Canadian Forces (Ottawa: Department of National Defence, 1978), p. 66.
McManus, p. 247.
Ibid., pp. 233-234.
Holmes, p. 249.
Fowler, p. 138.
Mitchell, p. 41.
Captain T.M. Chacho, “Why Did They Fight? American Airborne Units in World War II,” Defense Studies, Vol. 1, No. 3, Autumn 2001, p. 80.
Miller, p. 214.
Dollard, p. 28 and Rachman, p. 76.
Miller, p. 209.
Rachman, pp. 23, 237.
Ibid., p. 50.
Dollard, p. 44.
Dinter, p. 92.
Stouffer, p. 68.
Kellett, p. 299.
Dollard, p. 44.
Stouffer, p. 124.
Grossman, p. 85.
Letter, Sergeant Andy Anderson to author, 10 January 2003.
Dollard, p. 3.
Kellett, p. 281. Dollard’s study found that 71 percent felt fear most acutely just before going into action, from not knowing what to expect.
Kellett, p. 282.

Last Modified: 2004-09-08 Important Notices

[Officer of Engineers]

Could not find a text version but you also need the graphics.

[Officer of Engineers]

Last pages

[lemontree]

Colonel,

Sir, a very good and comrehensive article on "Fear". All of us face it at one time or the other. A few points to combat it from a junior officer.
- Good training.
- Faith in junior leaders/officers.
- Faith in your God/religion.
- Regimental spirit.

Most will agree that fear disappears once the combat starts. One is too busy in conducting the operation and concern for the safety of his troops to feel "fear".

[Officer of Engineers]

The future Battlegroup in Operations

[Officer of Engineers]

cont...

[Officer of Engineers]

Capt Miles just recently returned from Iraq.


Attack helicopters offer armor leaders third-dimension maneuver
Steve Miles

During 10 months of leading attack helicopter missions in and around the "Sunni Triangle" of North-Central Iraq, C Company, 1st Battalion, 4th Aviation Regiment (Attack), 4th Infantry Division, developed and integrated successful tactics, techniques, and procedures (TTPs) for air-ground integration. Due to the unique operational environment encountered during this war, many of these TTPs were refined over several months. In the interest of keeping follow-on units from reinventing the wheel and to further improve existing procedures, this article provides insight on how attack aviation can best support the ground tactical plan.

After reading this article, you will be an aviation "insider" who knows how to obtain the greatest amount of synergy by working with attack aviation. Many aviators might identify this information as "trade secrets." These particular aviators fear micromanaging by shortsighted leaders who do not understand or care how to be a good steward of aviation resources. Unfortunately, there are a few leaders who fit this description, but it is in our best interest as combat arms leaders to know the capabilities and limitations of the other. This article lays it all out on the table, including fighter management, flight hours, and weather. What a reader should understand is that aviation is about risk management, not risk aversion, and the limits discussed below are designed to preserve combat power, while providing flexible and substantive support.

The Attack Aviator

Attack aviators are pretty much volunteers, and like armor officers, they chose to take on the attack aviation mission because destroying the enemy through maneuver, firepower, and shock effect appeals to them. An attack aviator is expected to "move to the sound of the guns," demonstrate tremendous initiative, and attack in the absence of orders. This aggressive demeanor is tempered by a general conservatism born of the unforgiving aviation environment.

Attack aviators come in two basic varieties. Most attack pilots are aviation warrant officers, skilled experts in the tactical employment of aircraft. These professionals focus on being extremely proficient warriors. Other attack pilots are aviation branch commissioned officers, usually company commanders and platoon leaders. Like their armor branch brothers, aviation branch commissioned officers master their fighting platform over several years, and then transfer to staff positions. Both commissioned and warrant offer attack aviators are dedicated combined arms officers who want to contribute to the success of the ground units they Support.

What Attack Helicopters Bring to the Fight

During this conflict, the AH-64D Apache Longbow has proven to be both a capable and survivable instrument of warfare; however, like any tool, one must know its capabilities and limitations.

The Longbow Apache is a tandem-seat attack helicopter with a crew of two. The back crew station is optimized for maneuvering the aircraft, and the front crew station is optimized for employing the weapons; however, both crew stations are very similar. The aircraft can be flown and weapons fired from either crew station.

A heavy division attack helicopter battalion fields 18 Apaches in three companies of six aircraft each--each company has two platoons of three Apaches each. Corps-level battalions have 21 aircraft, while battalions in the 101st Airborne Division have 24 each. Most all unit maintenance and support assets are at the battalion level, a key factor when considering task organization.

For planning considerations, the Apache can fly at a speed of about 4 kilometers (kms) per minute for about 2 hours without refueling. The hotter the temperature, and the longer the aircraft hovers, less fuel endurance is expected. During extreme heat, Apaches may not have the capability to hover at all.

Technology

Sights and Sensors. The front and back seats are equipped with the integrated helmet and display sighting system (IHADSS). IHADSS has three components, which include a helmet-mounted monocle with aiming reticule, a device that precisely tracks the movement of the helmet in three dimensions, and a bore-sight reticule for aligning the helmet-mounted sight with the aircraft centerline. The IHADSS displays basic flight, navigation, and weapons information to a pilot through the helmet-mounted monocle. IHADSS enables the aircraft weapons and forward-looking infrared (FLIR) sensors to be slaved to the helmet line-of-sight. This allows the pilot to visually acquire a target, position his head so the helmet-mounted reticule is superimposed on the target, and squeeze the trigger making for incredibly fast acquisition-to-engagement times.

Day television system. The Apache target acquisition/designation sight (TADS) is equipped with a day TV system for acquiring and engaging targets up to a 6km distance during sun hours. The day TV is capable of a 127-power zoom and has a black-and-white display.

FLIR. The Apache is equipped with two FLIR sensors, each of which can be displayed on the helmet-mounted IHADSS monocle. The pilot night vision sensor (PNVS) is designed for use in flying the aircraft. The second sensor, a component of the TADS, features a 32-power zoom for weapons engagements, but can also be used to fly the aircraft. FLIR sees heat, not visible or near-infrared (IR) light. The Apache FLIR is first-generation and is optimized to see armored vehicles, which it does very well. Using the FLIR, vehicles can be acquired and engaged effectively out to 3.5km. However, dismounted personnel can rarely be seen at ranges of more than 1.5km, a serious consideration when employing Apaches at night. To observe small arms weapons carried by individuals, the range is much shorter. Much like tank thermal sights, overcast and rainy weather further degrade FLIR capabilities.

Fire control radar (FCR). One-half of the AH-64D Apache Longbow fleet is equipped with millimeter wave radars mounted on the main-rotor mast, commonly referred to as the "cheese wheel." The FCR is capable of detecting stationary targets out to 6km and moving targets out to 8km. It classifies targets into one of 16 categories, differentiating between airborne and ground, stationary and moving, tracked and wheeled, and other criteria. The radar uses a programmable prioritization scheme to select and display the 16 highest priority targets to the aircrew. The effectiveness of the FCR in acquiring and identifying targets is directly proportional to the amount of other ground clutter around them; for instance, the radar works better in the desert than in a forest. During our operations, the radar has proven most effective in locating vehicles moving after curfew and vehicles attempting to cross national borders in remote areas.

Night Vision Goggles (NVGs). AN/AVS-6 goggles can be employed by Apache crewmembers in the front seat only. These NVGs are just slightly more capable than standard AN/PVS-7 ground goggles and have similar limitations. NVGs are the only way Apaches can observe IR strobe lights, IR chemlights, or IR lasers.

Weapons

Cannon. The M230E1 30mm chain gun is the attack aviator's preferred implement for cutting the heart out of an insurgency. With a rate of fire of 650 rounds per minute, the cannon sprays high-explosive dual-purpose projectiles with a lethal bursting radius of 4 meters. While the maximum range of the gun is 4,200 meters, engagements are most often made with the IHADSS at ranges of less than 1,000 meters in Iraq. Maximum capacity is 1,200 rounds of 30mm ammunition. The cannon is devastatingly effective against dismounted personnel and soft-skinned vehicles.

Rockets. The Apache can carry up to 76 folding-fin 2.75-inch aerial rockets. These rockets may carry many different types of warheads, to include:

* High explosive (HE)--10-meter burst radius and 7,500 meter range, useful for surpression and harassment fires.

* Flechette--rockets fly toward the target then explode midair, saturating a 100- by 100-meter target with up to 1,180 "nails." imagine an air-delivered claymore mine.

* Multipurpose submunition (MPSM)--each MPSM warhead dispenses nine shaped-charge bomblets capable of penetrating four inches of steel and producing casualties out to 20 meters.

* Illumination--each illumination rocket provides illumination similar to a 120mm mortar illumination round. They will bum for about 2 minutes and can significantly aid target acquisition and identification when using NVGs.

* Hellfire missile--the AGM-114 Hellfire missile comes in two distinct varieties: laser and radar guided. The laser-guided missiles have a minimum range of between 500 and 1,400 meters, depending on version and a max range of 8km (remember the sight limitations discussed above). The radar-guided Hellfire is a fire-and-forget weapons system that is not optimal for the current fight in Iraq. Hellfire missiles have a 34-pound HE shaped-charge that will destroy most armored targets, but is not enough to level a building.

Communications

The Apache Longbow is well equipped with a variety of technological communications systems, which include:

* FM single channel and ground airborne radio system (SINCGARS). Each Longbow Apache carries two FM SINCGARS radios with frequency hopping and secure capability.

* Ultra high frequency (UHF) have quick. This is a frequency-hopping UHF radio, capable of secure communications, primarily used for communications with other aircraft.

* Very high frequency (VHF). This is a single-channel nonsecure VHF radio, primarily used for talking to air traffic control services.

* Enhanced position locating and receiving system (EPLRS) and blue-force tracker (BFT). Most deployed Apaches are equipped with either EPLRS or BFF, commensurate with other systems fielded by their parent unit.

Other Equipment

The Apache is also equipped with many other features, which enhance its battlefield capability:

* Laser rangefinder/designator (LRFD). The LRFD has a range of out to 9,999 meters and designator out to 7km. The LRFD can also designate for copperhead and air-delivered, laser-guided bombs.

* Laser spot tracker (LST). The LST acquires laser designations from other Apaches, jets, and laser designators used by fire support teams.

* Videocassette recording system. All Apaches are equipped with a video recorder for capturing FLIR and day TV video. Many use the standard 8mm video format. Effective uses include recon of ground attack routes and raid objectives for pre-mission review by ground leaders, as well as battle damage assessment.

* Improved data modem (IDM). Longbow Apaches exchange target information, and pass fire support requests to field artillery units digitally through the IDM. The IDM interacts with all onboard radios to send digital messages in various protocols.

Maintenance

Helicopters, like modern tanks, are very maintenance intensive by virtue of their complex systems, but the sky has no tolerance for malfunctions. If a tank throws a track, it stops; if a helicopter throws a blade, it is catastrophic. As a result, helicopters have many inspections required at intervals as short as 10 hours of flight time. These inspections and the inevitable repairs they require take significant amounts of maintenance time. Further, Apaches are required to be completely overhauled after just 250 hours of flight time, which is called a "phase" Just as an armor leader takes care to ensure his tanks do not all require semiannual services at the same time, aviation leaders must ensure their aircraft do not all reach phase at the same time. While in Iraq, our battalion completed an average of four phase overhauls per month and this drove our sustainable flying rate of 1,000 hours per month, or 333 hours per company.

Flight Time

Based on the above sustainable flying rate of 333 hours per company per month, that equates to about 12 aircraft hours a day. Maintenance test flights, required pilot training, and evaluations will take a portion of this time, so do not think an operational control (OPCON) company "owes" exactly 12 hours of air missions per day--12 hours is more of a total target pace to sustain continued mission support. Twelve aircraft hours flown by a team of two Longbows, results in six mission hours per day.

Fighter management is a tool that keeps aviators and aircraft safe to fly another day. Inadequately rested crews flying $24 million aircraft just does not pass the common-sense test. In our unit, crew rest means 10 hours off between 14-hour duty days, and aviators who do not get quality rest can self-ground. One might think that this self-grounding option would lead to abuses, but in practice, it really does not. Attack aviators are professionals with a strong sense of personal responsibility and duty.

Each aviation unit has a standard operating procedure (SOP) that specifies dally flight hour limits. In Iraq, we used a rough guideline--8 hours of day flight or 5 hours of night flight during one duty day, assuming the aircraft has sufficient flight time before the next maintenance inspection or component replacement. Finally, aircrews may not fly at night past the 10th hour of their duty day.

Our attack company has six aircraft and six crews. Just like with armor crews, the number one attack aviation crew rule is "never leave your wingman," so we are organized into three teams of two aircraft each. Our default posture is one day team, one evening team, and one late-night team. Each team adjusts sleep schedules to wake just prior to their shift. This provides the ability to support short-notice missions, 24 hours a day. If a unit requests more than one team in the air, we can adjust if given enough notice. We require about a 12-hour notice for two teams, and a 24-hour notice to mass all three teams.

The Apache has several components that warm up slower than Grandma's vacuum-tube television. In the heat of the desert, run-up times are extended due to waiting for components, such as the FLIR, to cool down. Without an advance mission notice, it takes approximately 2 hours to get Apaches airborne. If we receive a forewarning that we may be required to fly, we will preflight and run-up the aircraft in advance to make sure everything checks out. This is called "REDCON 3," and allows ns to be airborne within 30 minutes. If we really think we will be needed, we can sit in the aircraft with the auxiliary power unit running, which is referred to as "REDCON 2," and be airborne within 15 minutes, but this burns fuel and is not sustainable in high temperatures. One might think Apaches should always be at "REDCON 3," but remember, getting the aircraft preflighted and ready to go starts the aircrews' duty day and could significantly curtail them from flying when they are needed.

Our attack company has a total of 27 personnel on the modification table of organization and equipment and less on the ground in Iraq. Consisting of only officer pilots and enlisted crew chiefs, these personnel can be considered 10-level operators. All 20-level unit maintenance takes place at the battalion or above. If an attack company is physically separated from battalion-level maintenance, it's just a matter of time until there are several nonmission-capable aircraft. Keep in mind that broken aircraft cannot just be towed back to the unit maintenance collection point. Apaches cover large distances rapidly, 100km is a 25-minute flight; weigh the value of dislocating an attack company from its parent battalion carefully. In most situations, a liaison officer (LNO) from the attack company and/or forward aviation refueling will be a better solution.

Ground troops know that the enemy does not attack when Apaches are flying overhead. Commanders want air cover 24/7 because it keeps the enemy at bay. Unfortunately, keeping "iron in the sky" indefinitely is not sustainable, so we must make efficient use of the time we can fly.

Attack Aviation Missions

The low-intensity nature of the conflict in Iraq has blurred the distinction between traditional attack aviation missions and tasks considerably. Supported units have difficulty articulating what they want attack aviation to do for them. Common mission requests include tasks such as "perform presence patrol" and "provide overwatch," but these are not doctrinal attack helicopter tasks and have ambiguous meanings. Staffs and LNOs must shape these requests into tactical tasks that attack helicopters can perform, such as recon or screen missions. The results are worth the effort, as missions will focus on clearly defined goals--staffs know what kind of products are necessary to support the mission, and everyone will understand what is expected. The following examples are fictional, but very accurately portray the character of real missions:

Scenario 1: A forward operating base (FOB) comes under mortar attack nightly and the brigade commander directs his OP-CON attack helicopter company to deter these attacks.

Bad example: The aviation LNO passes a request for a presence patrol to the aviation brigade, who then passes it to the attack battalion. When it gets to the attack company it is a PowerPoint slide with a 1:250,000-scale map of the FOB and states, "perform presence patrol at FOB from 2000-0100." The attack aviators know the FOB comes under mortar attack, they guess from 82mm mortars, and perform a map recon for likely firing points within 4,900 meters of the FOB. They arrive overhead that night and identify a truck with a covered cargo bed and warm engine parked along a road. After flying presence patrols over this FOB night after night, they know it is unusual for a truck to be stopped here at this hour. They call the FOB with a spot report, but all the radio operator can do is say, "roger." After some prodding, the attack aviators are finally able to speak with a battle captain and ask for someone to come out and investigate the truck. No one at the FOB is tasked to support the Apaches, so it takes about 40 minutes to get a quick reaction force (QRF) out the gate. During this time, three individuals emerge from a nearby grove, enter the truck, and drive off. The Apaches follow the truck for a while and it merges on to a major highway. The Apaches try to vector the QRF to the fleeing truck, but eventuallv they must break off for refuel before the QRF can catch up.

Good example: The brigade S3 tasks the Apaches to perform an area recon to identify, and on order, attack to destroy, enemy indirect-fm assets within range of the FOB. The brigade S2 develops named areas of interest, integrates the aircraft into the FOB reconnaissance and surveillance plan, and provides a detailed estimate to the attack helicopter company of what to look for based on recent attacks and other intelligence. The Apaches come on station that night with a clear plan and observe a truck with a missing front fender, of which, the S2 briefed them, may have been involved in an earlier attack. On closer examination of the vehicle that they may have otherwise disregarded, they observe three figures, hiding in a nearby grove, toss rifles and a mortar tube to the ground. The Apaches call in a spot report to the FOB who dispatch the QRE The Apaches guide the QRF to the truck and the suspicious individuals are subsequently captured.

Learning points:

* Always request a tactical task, such as recon, screen, or attack from Apaches. It may seem like placing round pegs in square holes, but assigning tactical tasks enables a wealth of institutional knowledge about what staff work is required to support a mission and what is expected from aircrews.

* Always pass pertinent intelligence information along with a mission request.

* When asking for a recon mission, always consider what actions to take when the Apaches find something. Apaches cannot search cars or boats and the enemy rarely brandish weapons when Apaches are overhead. Have a ground asset ready to investigate spot reports.

Scenario 2: Intelligence indicates an individual on the high-value target list is taking refuge in a house in the 1st Battalion, 55th Infantry Regiment's (1-55) sector. The 1-55 Infantry's S3 operations officer requests Apache support for a 0200-hour raid.

Bad example: The 1-55 Infantry's assistant S3 calls the brigade aviation LNO with the mission for Apaches to "provide overwatch at 0200 of All-55 IN BN raid at grid LC 123 456." Despite having access to digital maps and satellite imagery, he gives a six-digit grid for the target instinctively because the observer controller at the combat training center told him this was the standard last spring. The mission is passed over the radio to the attack helicopter company command post from their battalion, with the additional information to "contact Animal 6 on FH770." The Apaches take off at 0145 hours, fly toward the target house, and attempt to contact Animal 6, the A Company commander As the Apaches get within 15km of the raid objective, Animal 6G answers and indicates Animal 6 is in a high-mobility, multipurpose wheeled vehicle (HMMWV) moving to the objective and wants the Apaches to contact him on FH772.

The aircrews switch to the new frequency and begin to monitor Animal 6 and Blue 1, who are discussing an Iraqi police vehicle, which took a wrong turn and left the convoy. The aircrews seize a break in the transmission and check in with Animal 6. Animal 6 replies that he wants the Apaches to keep out of earshot of the objective until he calls them forward to clear the rooftops of Objectives Lion and Tiger. The Apaches make a quick assessment and determine they are upwind of the objective area, so they make a sharp turn to avoid getting any closer. Since they did not receive the company refinements to the mission graphics, the Apaches call Animal 6 back and ask for the grids for Objectives Lion and Tiger. Animal 6 tells the Apaches to standby and then calls' Animal 5 to ask if his blocking position is set. Animal 5 says he is "set at the bridge but the red element dismounts are still moving."

Animal 6 calls the Apaches back after reviewing the two company objective graphics on his Force XXI battle command brigade and below (FBCB2) screen and reads" off two 10-digit grids to the Apaches. As the Apache crews convert the 10-digit grids into 8-digit grids that their aircraft navigation system uses, Animal 5 calls to say the cordon is set and he has the Iraqi police at his location. Animal 6 replies, "Good, I am crossing Phase Line Claw now and turning into the village, send the Iraqi police up to meet me on Lion." The Apache crews are now orbiting 8km to the north while they study maps trying to figure out at which bridge Animal 5 is located, and exactly which houses are Objective Tiger and Lion.

At exactly 0159 hours, the Apache front seat crewmembers wearing NVGs observe a long stream of tracers are across the ground in the vicinity of the objective and erupt into the sky. "Animal 6, Blue 1, contact with one guy with an AK vicinity Tiger, my gunner engaged with coax but he's gone toward the canal!" an excited voice announces over the radio. Animal 6 acknowledges the transmission and instructs the Apaches, "come on in and look for an enemy dismount egressing west toward the canal." The Apaches turn toward the objective and begin heading inbound. About two kilometers north of the objective, they pass an M2 Bradley astride a canal bridge. The back seat crewmember using the PNVS FLIR saw it first from about 2kms away, the heat of the Bradley engine and exhaust contrasted sharply in the pilot's monocle display, but the front seat crewmember wearing goggles was unable to observe the M2 until he was on top of it due to poor illumination.

As the Apaches follow the canal down the west side of the objective, the lead aircraft announces to his wingman on the UHF radio, "muzzle flashes, three o'clock, breaking right." The lead Apache banks hard to the right, back across the canal, while the trail aircraft acquires the muzzle flashes and turns toward them. Both crewmembers in the trail Apache crew observe a pickup truck full of personnel firing rifles toward the objective. "Tally," the trail Apache crew responds, "Two's in, switches cold." The back seat crewmember instinctively feels with his thumb for the switch that will send hydraulic power to his cannon turret and slew it at 60 degrees per second, in line with his helmet line-of-sight. Cautious and unsure of what the situation is on the ground, the crew won't action that switch until they are sure they need to fire, but they want to know they can if they have to. As they get closer, the front seat crewmember with NVGs makes a quick short gasp as he clearly makes out the shape of flashing AKs in the hands of the personnel in the truck. A beep and a rush on the radio break the tension, "Animal 6, Animal 5, the Iraqi police are firing something up from the back of their truck."

Good example: The 1-55 Infantry's assistant S3 calls the aviation LNO and says, "Animal company is going to do a raid at 0200 hours tonight and we would like some Apaches to help with our cordon, I'll send you all the graphics we have right now on email." The aviation LNO reviews the graphics, calls the assistant S3 back, and says, "I see you have the Apaches screening west of the objective to prevent egress through that area, you won't be able to observe from the road." The assistant 3 replies, "Right, and they need to be in a position to visually clear the roofs on the objective houses." "OK," the aviation LNO responds, "I see now, you have this slide with the satellite imagery that assigns a number to each house in the village." "Right," says the assistant S3, "and the target individual should be in house 12. By the way, Animal Company is conducting its' final rehearsal at the FOB at 2300 hours tonight, if your aircrews can make it." The aviation LNO passes all this information through to the attack helicopter company. The crews who will fly this mission are asleep when the mission is received the afternoon prior, so their counterparts begin some backward planning to determine if their duty day and the mission timeline will support attending the rehearsal:

Mission 0200-0400
Takeoff en route objective 0145-0200
Run-up aircraft at OB 0115-0145
Rehearsal 2300-UTC
Takeoff Ch route FOB 2200-2230
Brief/preflight/run-up 2000-2200
Begin duty day 2000

If the aircrew begins their duty day at 2000 hours with their own brief and preflight, their unit SOP permits them to fly until 0600 hours, 10 hours after the duty day starts. The attack helicopter company commander is concerned about starting duty days unnecessarily early, he wants crews to be as fresh as possible during mission execution, but he knows the opportunity to do a face-to-face with the ground unit is worth the risk and approves the mission with the stop off for rehearsal. The aircrews begin their duty day, fly to the FOB, and participate in the rehearsal. They receive the company graphics that subdivide the battalion objective into Lion and Tiger, they know where all the friendly forces will be during the operation, and at the FOB they distinguish the Iraqi police truck. The raid goes smoothly, despite some nervous shooting by the Iraqi police. The Apaches observe an individual fleeing on foot and vector dismounted infantry to catch him. Later, interrogation reveals that this person was the intended target.

Learning Points:

Fratricide prevention is a combat multiplier. Apaches must know the ground scheme of maneuver and should be integrated prior to the mission. Once the raid is underway, it is too late for an effective briefing in the air. Ensure aircrews have all the graphic control measures ground units will be using. If there is any chance of friendly troops using non-U.S, vehicles or weapons, it must be briefed to the aircrews.

* Six-digit grids do not offer sufficient resolution to pick out ala individual house in a village. Use staffs to develop and disseminate urban grid system products for each mission.

* An 8km upwind and a 4km downwind has been empirically proven in Iraq to be sufficient standoff for Apaches to remain undetected by sound at night. Note that this distance exceeds the capability of Apache FLIR to see individuals or any vehicle details, so do not plan on Apaches observing and remaining undetected.

* The best way to brief a mission is in person. Do not hesitate to ask for aircrews, or at least LNOs, to attend rehearsals--they will attend if at all possible.

* Aviation leaders will attempt to start an aircrew's duty day as close as possible to mission execution time. This ensures two things: the aircrews will be fresh for the mission; and if there are delays or a requirement to fly longer, the aircrews will have sufficient duty day remaining to support it.

Other Concerns

Two methods should be used to ensure Apaches know where friendly troops are: use IR light sources and tell the Apaches where friendly troops will be located. Vehicles should have IR strobe lights and personnel should have either an IR chemlight or, even better, an AN/PAQ-4 or AN/PEQ-2 IR laser-aiming device active on their weapons. Glint tape on uniforms is nearly invisible to Apaches because the aircraft has no IR light source to reflect the glint tape. Most importantly, tell the Apaches where friendly troops are before the mission starts by ensuring their locations are passed to the aircrews. It is not a bad idea to ask aircrews to call the battalion S3 via landline before takeoff and discuss the friendly scheme of maneuver, if it is complex or undetermined. If mission graphics do not completely speak for themselves, some information will be lost as the mission is passed up and down the chain. At a minimum, when Apaches come on station, take a minute to ensure the aircrews know where all the moving pieces are located.

Apaches sometimes cancel missions due to weather or maintenance. Aircrews are expected to risk their aircraft to enemy fire to support troops on the ground, but not to take a chance on maintenance or unsafe weather. Various regulations and technical manuals detail what aircraft malfunctions are acceptable to fly with, and which ones are not. There are very few subjective judgments to be made, particularly with an advanced aircraft with onboard test equipment like the Longbow that detects malfunction. Weather minimums are also detailed by regulation and classified theater-specific instructions. Objective Air Force personnel make weather forecasts and observations, not Army aircrews. Only extreme circumstances, such as friendly units in contact with the enemy, would prompt consideration of flying in below-minimum weather, and that risk decision would have to be made by a senior aviation leader. The best way to avoid mission cancellation due to weather is to request an Air Force weather team be positioned in the vicinity of key operations to accurately report current conditions.

Like many other weapons systems, since the cessation of major hostilities in Iraq, Apaches have made a significant departure from the Cold War paradigm. Where battalions and even regiments of attack helicopters may have attacked in mass before, a single team of two Apaches has enough firepower to dominate any likely engagement. Where helicopters previously hugged the terrain to avoid engagement by long-range surface-to-air missiles (SAMs), the principal threat to helicopters now comes from small arms, rocket-propelled grenades, and the occasional shoulder-fired SAM. The situation is different, and tactics used by Apaches are changed to suit this difference. Apaches now conduct reconnaissance and attacks primarily at airspeeds between 60 and 100 knots for reasons such as improving survivability (it is harder to hit a moving target) and conserving fuel (hovering bums fuel faster than cruise flight). Hovering is a tool we still use, albeit a suboptimal one for most situations we encounter.

In this environment, when planning the tactical employment of attack helicopters, focus on their effects, not their flight paths. Air-crews are more effective when left to determine how to maneuver their own aircraft. Include a purpose and desired end state with tasks to convey intent. Use of fire support control measures, such as restricted fire lines, is a straightforward, clearly understood way to deconflict fires.

The simplest method to get an attack helicopter looking in the right direction is to pass a grid and target description. The Apache Longbow possesses a sophisticated navigation system that obtains a position confidence of less than 14 meters. A grid entered into the navigation system can be used to cue and slew aircraft sensors, weapons, and even the helmet-mounted sight. Imagine having big crosshairs painted on the ground; that is what it looks like when we cue our helmet monocle to a target grid. There are disadvantages to sending a grid, which include the time it takes for the observer to determine it, for the aircrew to enter it, and the many opportunities for it to be misread or incorrectly entered.

If time is of the essence, an old-fashioned talk-on works best. For example, "from the lead vehicle in the convoy, ten o'clock at 300 meters, there is a two-story house with a pickup truck in front of it, in that pickup is the shooter." Talk-ons should be progressive, starting from one known point, preferably a large terrain feature or manmade object, and moving outward to the target. Use the clock technique (12 o'clock means toward the front) or cardinal directions for headings. Because an aerial perspective is significantly different from a ground view, ensure references are as specific as possible; for instance, while the ground commander may observe only one large plume of smoke in front of him, the aircraft may see several.

During hours of darkness, IR lasers work well to mark targets. Purpose-built IR pointers (similar to the type the Air Force enlisted tactical air controllers (ETACs) use), IR weapon-aiming systems (the AN/PEQ-2), or even a standard briefing laser pointer are extremely easy to acquire with NVGs. Just provide the aircrews with the cardinal direction or clock-technique heading where the laser is pointing. This heading does not have to be exact, but it ensures aircrews are in the right direction for the spot, as laser energy only reflects back in about a +/-60 degree azimuth. For example, "I'm lasing the target to my north now, its the second-floor window of the apartment." Keep the laser spot moving so it will stand out from other lights when viewed through NVGs, often a looping motion around the target works best.

Most infantry and armor units have embedded ETACs. While ETACs usually work with fixed-wing close air support (CAS) aircraft, their skills and equipment transfer well to attack helicopter operations. Do not overlook these specialists. During several large operations where FM radio command nets were constantly in use, the ETAC's UHF radios served as a backup link between the ground commander and his attack helicopter support. Also often overlooked is the synergy that develops when CAS and attack helicopters work together. For example, IR flares dropped by an A-10 CAS aircraft can often make a significant improvement in the reconnaissance ability of an NVG-equipped attack helicopter. When CAS and attack helicopters are simultaneously operating in an area, ensure that both elements are made aware of the other. Attack aviators are also proficient at controlling CAS and Call be a "surrogate ETAC" for ground commanders when others are not available or not in a position to observe.

The conflict in Iraq is both unique in some ways and "back to the future" in others. New technologies meet proven tactics to forge enhanced warfighting capabilities for our units. Attack helicopters offer a third dimension of maneuver to armor leaders that our mission and soldiers deserve to have fully realized. The TTPs described in this article successfully enabled one unit to meet the challenge in north-central Iraq. Other locations, different units, and specific circumstances may indicate alternate recommendations. Use this article to compare how your unit does business with attack aviation, and make any sensible adjustments. Finally, the next time you see attack aviators walking around your FOB, offer them the chance to get in your turret and see how you view the world.

CPT Stephen W Miles is commander, C Company, 1st Battalion, 4th Aviation Regiment (Attack), 4th Infantry Division (Mechanized), Fort Hood, TX, currently in Tikrit, Iraq. He is a graduate of San Francisco State University. His military education includes the Aviation Officer Basic Course, Field Artillery Captains Career Course, and Combined Arms and Services Staff School He has served in various command and staff positions to include attack platoon leader and support platoon leader, 1st Battalion, 3d Aviation Regiment (Attack), 3d Infantry Division (Mechanized), Hunter Army Airfield, GA; assistant S3, 4th Brigade, 4th Infantry Division (Mechanized), Tikrit, Iraq; and division tactical command post aviation liaison officer, 4th Brigade, 4th Infantry Division (Mechanized), Fort Hood, TX.

COPYRIGHT 2004 U.S. Army Armor Center
COPYRIGHT 2004 Gale Group

[lemontree]

Sir,
Its a good paper on the use of air assets in COIN ops and the problems faced therein.

[Blademaster]

Man, it's an eye opener into the capabilities of attack helicopters and the limitations therein.

I can see why Russians disdain attack helicopters so earlier and even well into the Cold War.

If I want survelliance and recon, I can still use a M-17 or such outfitted with rockets and guns and survelliance equipment.

The maintenance requirements of the attack helicopters would readily discourages an army with limited resources to have a dedicated attack helicopter. They would opt for general utility helicopters such as M-17 helicopters. And if they need an attack or recon compability, they can outfit the helicopter with pods. To me, this would be a cheaper and more effective option since the land forces can make up for the shortcomings inevitable coming with the M-17 pod option with other cheaper resources.

Look at this way: A-64 cost 24 million dollars. A M-17 cost around 8-10 million. Pods can cost around 1 to 2 million dollars. Maintenance cost of A-64 bound to be significantly higher than a M-17 and pod maintenance. To make up for the shortcomings of a M-17 pod outfitted and match the capability of A-64, about 5-6 million dollars.

Yeah I know I am bean counting but you can see where I am going with this.

No wonder why IA has been dragging its heels about an dedicated attack helicopter. IF I was IA, I would devoted my resources to M-17s and Dhruvs. If I need attack or recon capabilities, just put a pod on one of those and off you go. It's simple. It's simple. It's simple. That way you don't have to worry about logistics of carrying a dedicated attack helicopter battalion and can use the savings for other equipment.