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Leadership in Five Seconds
May 2004


By Maj. Gen. Guy S. Meloy, U.S. Army Retired


It was September 1955 and a very hot day, especially for Germany. The 3rd Battalion, 86th Infantry Regiment stationed in Schweinfurt was in the second day of a three-day Army Training Test (ATT) at the Grafenwohr Training Area. Umpires seemed to be standing behind every other tree, and the troops, most of them draftees, were trying hard to "play the game."

The ATT, the precursor to a series of evolving unit evaluation programs, had been around since World War II. It finitely tested a unit’s individual and collective administrative, logistics, operational and tactical functions by using numerical scores. By the end of three days and nights, for example, one battalion might score 91.6, while its sister units might score "only" 89.8 and maybe a 90.2. The unit with the highest score was considered the best unit, hence had bragging rights until the next ATT. Unfortunately, what made this system even more lopsided was that oftentimes a commander’s efficiency report reflected his unit’s ATT scores, thus adding an unnecessary dose of artificial stress within the chain of command. This is sort of silly, looking back on it, which is why some smart people at Training and Doctrine Command changed from testing to the nearest tenth of a decimal point to a more realistic and useful evaluation system.

On this day, however, the ATT still ruled and 3-86 had just started to prepare its positions for "defense against daylight attack." I was a first lieutenant and the battalion’s assistant S-3. Shortly after we established the battalion command post (tactical operations centers had not been invented yet), the S-3 asked me to walk the line to see if the company commanders had everything they needed. I arrived at King Company’s position just as Sgt. Steve Mulkey, an enormous soldier who was the platoon sergeant of Mike Company’s heavy machine-gun platoon, reported to the company commander with a section of two M1917A1 .30-caliber water-cooled heavy machine guns. The section had been assigned to support King Company, and Mulkey and the company commander, a veteran of both World War II and the Korean War, were discussing the best positions to emplace the heavies to support the defense.

The heavy machine-gun crews were tired, sweaty and starting to look a tad restless. I did not blame them. The heavy machine gun, with its water-filled jacket around the barrel and heavy tripod for stability, weighed 93 pounds--and that is not counting the weight of the ammo. The tripod itself weighed 53 pounds, and the weight of the gun, even without water, was 33 pounds (with water, add almost nine more pounds). It was primarily a defensive or supporting weapon because, given its weight, it was not practical in fluid combat or as an assault weapon. Hauling it around was no easy task, and Mulkey’s crews were anxious to start digging it in.

King Company had six M1919A6 light machine guns that were already emplaced. The question now was where to employ the heavy machine guns to best support and reinforce the light machine guns and strengthen King Company’s defense. After walking the line from left to right and back, and even moving out in front of the forward edge of the battle area, and several more minutes of discussing the pros and cons of several options, Mulkey and the company commander agreed to emplace one machine gun at position A and the other at position B.

Mulkey personally took each crew to their assigned position, explained the primary direction of fire and the left and right limits, pointed out the location of adjacent riflemen and the nearest light machine guns, and told his men, "Dig here." Playing the game, they immediately started digging a field manual version of a machine-gun position, which was shaped like a square horseshoe with the machine gun placed in the center of the horseshoe. There was one problem, though. The clay-like ground was saturated with granite rocks the size of baseballs, so digging in was not as simple as the fellows who wrote the book made it out to be. It was hard work made even harder by the fact that the troops had only their entrenching tools to dig with; it was hot and steamy, and they were already tired. To their credit, they were playing the game--no grumbling, no gripes, one soldier manning the gun and another acting as security or lookout as the book specified, and two digging around rocks and into the clay, sweat streaming down their foreheads.

The hole was perhaps a third of the way completed when the battalion commander came by. He called the company commander over to position A and asked why that position had been selected when "obviously that position over there (about 25 feet away) is a much better location." After a few minutes of what was clearly a one-sided discussion, the company commander directed the heavy machine-gun crew to "move over there." If looks could have killed, every officer within about a 50-foot radius would have dropped dead on the spot.

With umpires in every direction, however, the troops played the game. Without a word, they picked up the 93-pound gun and all their gear, carried it to position A1, and immediately started digging a new hole. The afternoon wore on. It got hotter. The same kind of rocks and clay-like soil at Position A1 made digging just as hard there as it was at the original position. All you heard were grunts of effort uttered after each swing of the entrenching tools. Slowly but surely, the A1 foxhole began to take shape.

The A1 machine-gun position was more than half way completed when (you guessed it) the regimental commander came by. "Why are they in this position A1 when it’s obvious that position A is by far the best possible location?" Another rather one-sided discussion and another move--back to position A. Frustrated and by this time understandably upset, the troops, still trying to play the game, picked up their 93-pound heavy machine gun and all their gear, and started swinging away again at their original position. Soldiers from King Company shared their water (the diggers had emptied their canteens long ago at A1), but the machine-gun crew, by this time exhausted and questioning, I’m sure, the common sense of their chain of command, was in no mood for a reenlistment talk.

A few minutes later, a light observation helicopter carrying Brig. Gen. Stanley R. (Swede) Larsen, the assistant division commander of the 10th Infantry Division, landed in a field behind King Company. The regimental commander greeted him; the company commander greeted him, and I quietly got out of the line of fire. The heavy machine-gun crew never so much as glanced his way. Gen. Larsen had been assigned to the division only a few days earlier, so this was actually the first time many of us had seen him up close. All we knew about him was that he was a highly decorated World War II battalion and regimental commander, had commanded a regiment in the 82nd Airborne and had plenty of troop duty.

He asked a few questions, was briefed by the company commander and started walking the forward edge of the battle area, beginning at the end farthest from position A. I tiptoed along, staying as far out of the way as trees and bushes permitted and watched Swede Larsen in action. He stopped at every position, got down on one knee and talked with every soldier. Mostly his questions dealt with the who-what-where-when-why-how. Why are you in this position? What is good about it? What is not good? What can you do to make it better? Who is on your left and right? How do you know when to start or stop shooting? What is the challenge and password? Where is the platoon leader’s position? Where is the company command post? What is your primary direction of fire? Where are the machine guns located and how much ammo do you have? In other words, he was genuinely interested in learning if the soldier did or did not know what he was supposed to be doing, how to do it and why he was doing it.

Finally, we arrived at position A where by this time the most exasperated and thoroughly frustrated soldiers in probably the entire division were still swinging through clay and rock, and to their credit, still trying to play the game.

When Swede Larsen, the regimental commander, the company commander, a platoon leader and the general’s aide walked up to A, the soldiers digging the position never even looked up or stopped swinging their by now mostly bent and dented entrenching tools. Larsen stood watching for several seconds and finally, leaning as far forward as he could without losing his head to an errant entrenching tool, started innocently to ask the same questions he had been asking every soldier along the line. "Soldier, would you please tell me why you put the machine gun in this location?"

Hearing that, the squad leader jerked up and in one, continuous motion threw his entrenching tool about 30 feet, yanked off his helmet and slammed it down so hard the steel pot separated from the liner and bounced about five feet straight in the air, put his hands on his hips, glared at Larsen and in a voice that could be heard all the way to range control demanded, "Okay, general, just where in the f--- do you want it?"

It got very, very quiet, awfully fast. Even the birds stopped chirping. Soldiers in nearby positions ducked down into the bottom of their foxholes. I thought the regimental commander was going to expire on the spot. The company commander looked as if he was going to lose his lunch. The platoon leader, suddenly remembering he had something more important to do, turned and vanished. The aide’s jaw dropped to about his belt buckle. I fell to my knees thanking the good Lord that I was only an obscure staff officer, an innocent lieutenant, and not Sgt. Mulkey or the commander of Mike Company who, being a good friend, I was going to miss.

The only person who never flinched or even seemed surprised was Swede Larsen. For a few moments, he and the squad leader stood looking at each other--the squad leader, who I suppose figured he was headed to Leavenworth anyhow, refusing to back down--neither saying a word. You could almost see the wheels turning in Gen. Larsen’s mind, though, and they were obviously the wheels of a soldier who knew soldiers. After no more than five seconds, I witnessed one of the finest demonstrations of leadership I was ever privileged to see. Gen. Larsen slowly reached out, placed his hand on the trooper’s shoulder and in a quiet voice said, "Soldier, I’m sorry I asked."

As I listened later to Swede Larsen tell the regimental commander, "That soldier knows what he’s doing, and he’s obviously been working hard to do it right. I don’t think we need to worry about what he said, do you?" I discovered what real leadership was all about--no platitudes, no graduate school rules of dos and don’ts, just a ton of common sense, a genuine empathy for human beings and an understanding of soldiers that can only be gained by soldiering.

More than 40 years later I ran into Swede Larsen at a Fifth Army conference at Fort Sam Houston, Texas, and mentioned this incident. He told me he had only a vague recollection of it, but said he was not at all surprised by his reaction. "If you liked soldiers and liked being a soldier, it wasn’t hard to put yourself in other soldiers’ shoes. If I had been that fellow, I might have said the same thing he did. That was not his fault. That was the fault of his commanders, so how could I blame him?"

On that long ago afternoon in 1955, Swede Larsen showed me why it is so important for the Army to send every new lieutenant to troop duty and even more important to keep him or her with troops long enough to develop not just an appreciation for what makes soldiers tick, but an intuitive sense for what is going on "below the decks."

Just as you cannot learn to swim through a correspondence course, you cannot know soldiers and soldiering from a textbook.
As much as they help, you do not learn that from leadership manuals either. You gain soldiering intuition by sleeping on the ground, in the winter, when it’s raining, and taking turns with your radio-telephone operator on radio watch.

You learn it by leading your platoon at night on long forced marches over terrain you have never seen before. You understand it after trying to assemble your unit with the wrong maps after landing on the wrong landing zone or drop zone at night. You appreciate it after shoveling snow out of rifle-range pits so your company can zero weapons in January.

You begin to realize it after being last in the chow line when the cooks run out of food, by helping a young trooper on the verge of being tossed out of the Army shape up and someday get promoted, working with your crew to replace a thrown track at 0200 in a snowstorm and conducting artillery hip-shoots when you know where you are but are not sure you ought to be there.

Few opportunities reinforce intuition better than drinking a lot of coffee with a lot of wise NCOs and being smart enough to take notes on what they tell you.

In my book, Swede Larsen was clearly one of the best. Why? Mainly I think because even though he eventually wore three stars, he was still fundamentally a soldier who liked other soldiers, thought like a soldier and genuinely liked soldiering. He knew soldiers, knew intuitively what they thought, knew how they would react to various situations and, unlike so many others, understood when--and why--good soldiers might sometimes sound insubordinate, but were not.

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MAJ. GEN. GUY S. MELOY, USA Ret., wore the green shoulder tabs of a troop leader at every consecutive rank, commanding four platoons, three companies, two battalions in Vietnam and a brigade. He was an assistant division commander and commander of the 82nd Airborne Division.

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

Casualty Budgets: applications to both military planning and commercial wargaming.
by
Matthew Caffrey, Lt Col, USAFR
John Tiller, Ph. D., HPS Simulations

"It was crucial that casualties should be kept to a minimum if final victory was to be seen worth the purchase"

The Battle for the Falklands, Hastings and Jenkins, 1983, p. 184.

In military history, there have been similar circumstances arise at very different times. For example, when Lee encountered Union forces on the first day of Gettysburg, he hesitated, not sure if he should commit his army to this particular battle. At Normandy, during the early days of the World War II invasion, the Allies hesitated, not sure if they should advance with more risks or take a more cautious approach to their campaign. At Borodino, during Napoleon's invasion of Russia in 1812, he failed to commit his entire army to the battle, unsure if he could "afford" the resulting casualties. In more modern times, it is interesting to compare the Vietnam War battles of Ia Drang and Hamburger Hill, one occurring during the early years of the American involvement, and considered a victory for the doctrine of airborne assault, with the second occurring during the later years of the war, and considered a terrible defeat, although tactically it accomplished the destruction of an NVA regiment.

The questions that arise from these situations are twofold:

How do we understand how to estimate eventual victory or defeat outcomes in such a way that transcends strictly attrition factors.

How do we implement military caution in artificial environments such as commercial wargames.

While the first question concerns primarily serving military strategists while the other is the concern of the recreational wargamer/civilian strategist the approach presented here actually addresses both of these issues. The concept of Casualty Budgets is based on the following:

In military situations, the participants are often constrained or influenced by the potential or actual casualties of the current situation in a way that transcends a pure military analysis of the situation.

This concept can be illustrated using the previous examples:

When Lee first arrived on the Gettysburg battlefield, he was forced to make decisions in a very uncertain situation. Although he appeared to hold the advantage at the time, there were too many unknowns about the situation for him to be able to commit his forces with certainty. Thus, for a long period during the first day of the battle of Gettysburg, Lee's forces waited for reinforcements before advancing.

After the initial success of the Normandy landings, the British forces actually withdrew from their furthest advance at the end of the first day, despite the fact that they were largely unopposed at that point. Likewise, the entire course of the Normandy campaign is made up of short periods of offensive activity followed by periods of inactivity, despite many weaknesses in the German position, in a way that goes far beyond mere logistical concerns at the time. The entire campaign was conducted in a very measured and paced manner despite the result that the Germans were able to prolong the fighting in the Normandy hedgerow.
Napoleon failed to deliver a knock-out blow at Borodino and consequently failed to conquer the Russians. He had additional uncommitted forces at Borodino, notably the Imperial Guard, but was uncertain whether he should commit them in that battle. On a purely military basis, he could have decided that the commitment of his entire force might yield a decisive result, but the uncertainty he found himself under compelled him to save a significant portion of his force for a later battle that never happened.

The casualties suffered by the American forces at the battles of Ia Drang and Hamburger Hill in Vietnam cannot be compared in an abstract numerical manner. If you did, you might conclude that both of these battles were significant victories for the Americans in terms of the corresponding losses suffered by the NVA. However, historically we view the first of these as a heroic battle demonstrating the new tactic of airborne assault, while the second is viewed as a senseless shedding of blood to no good purpose.

In each case, the concept of Casualty Budgets illustrates the basis for these situations and the decisions associated with them by introducing a concept that transcends the numerical victory/loss accounting that is normally done. In the case of Lee at Gettysburg, he was not in a position to commit his force to a substantial battle just on the basis of the initial clash that first day. By the third day, when it was clear that this battle would significantly determine the outcome of the war, he was prepared to commit his last remaining reserves in an all-or-nothing charge, something that just wasn't justified until then. At Normandy, the Allies and particularly the British were under significant political pressure to avoid what might be viewed as horrendous and unacceptable losses during the campaign. Although the total number of casualties suffered in the historical Normandy campaign was quite large, they were incurred over the course of the campaign and in such a way that they did not occur in such high numbers at any one time so as to invoke a serious political backlash as a result. Likewise, although Napoleon would in the end lose almost all of his force in the campaign, at the time of Borodino the situation was too early and uncertain for him to commit all of his forces to a decisive conclusion. He was compelled by his caution to hold back a certain portion of his force for later eventualities.

And finally, during the Vietnam war, the Americans operating under a very significant casualty budget, one that was eventually used up, so that earlier battles such as Ia Drang can be viewed as success at the time, while later battles such as Hamburger Hill are viewed as defeats. Tactically the North Vietnamese understood they had a casualty budget and managed it well. They knew they would suffer heavy casualties with American units so they tended to initiate sharp engagements when they were fresh, then break those engagements off as they started to seriously loose combat effectiveness. They would then take the time they needed to rest and refit, often a month, before they would initiate another engagement.

Casualty budgets are a relevant concept at all levels of war. Said another way, they need to be the concern of platoon leaders and presidents. Military professionals should be aware of the consequences of Casualty Budgets and work with our civilian leaders to determine what our casualty budget would be for any operation - before forces are committed. Then they should estimate how many casualties would be incurred achieving the operation's objective. If the estimates show it is unlikely we can achieve our objectives within our casualty budget then it unlikely we can achieve our objectives at all. When the budget is exceeded the American people, then elected officials will begin to limit the President's options. In such a case it may be better not to engage at all.

The concept of Casualty Budgets serves a particularly useful role in commercial wargaming as well as it goes a long way towards resolving the fundamental problem of reproducing caution. Experience has shown that the typical person placed in the context of a wargame will show very little if any feeling towards caution in that situation and will commit forces and take risks far beyond anything that could reasonably have occurred in the historical situation. Indeed, in commercial wargames of the Battle of Gettysburg, typically you find the fighting continuing unabated through the first day, all through the first night, and with the consequence that the entire battle is finished in about half the historical duration. The situation is likewise in commercial wargames of Borodino or any other battle, that there is little or no reason for the player to hold back or exhibit any type of caution in their approach. There simply isn't any good way of representing the risk that existed in the historical situation, and so the notion of Casualty Budget becomes a very useful way of "legislating caution".

When Casualty Budgets are implemented in a commercial wargame through a scoring mechanism, they compel the player to proceed at a more measured pace and conserve their forces in such a way as to avoid exceeding their budget at any given time. This approach is most appropriate at the tactical or operational level. Casualty Budgets used in this context can be both Fixed and Variable. When they are Fixed, then the player has a single value against which they must manage their forces. This would be appropriate for the Battle of Borodino for example where the player must understand that once their Casualty Budget is exceeded, the outcome of the conflict goes against them as a result. When the budget is Variable, then the player begins with a certain amount of Casualty Budget which is then increased over time according to some preset determined rate. This would be particularly appropriate for the Normandy campaign for example where the Allied player must pace his offensive activities to work within the constraints of the budget even though his total casualties might end up being large in comparison. Likewise, when used for the Battle of Gettysburg, it would compel the Confederate player to take a less drastic approach, particularly in the first day, as they would be constrained by a casualty budget that only by the third day allowed them the kind of casualties they would otherwise accept much earlier. In detail then, with a given Casualty Budget of X in effect for a given game turn, if the player exceeded their budget by having casualties of Y, then the excess Y - X in victory points would be subtracted from their overall victory determination. This would be done on a per-turn basis motivating the player to manage their budget accordingly. While it does not prevent the player from exceeding their Casualty Budget, it penalizes them for doing so and thus provides some balance to an otherwise unrealistic situation.

While penalizing players with victory points may be a good idea at the tactical or operational level, the best way to implement casualty budgets in strategic wargames will usually be to depict the consequences of exceeding the budget. In general the consequence is to limit the players options. Let's use logistics as an analogy. When a unit has a lot of logistics it can attach, defend, withdraw and of course it could always surrender. As its use of logistics exceeds its resupply it first will not be able to attack, then it won't be able to defend, then it won't be able to withdraw. In time its ONLY option will be to surrender. As a units exceeds it casualty budget it first will not be able to attack, then it won't be able to defend, then it won't be able to withdraw. In time its ONLY option will be to surrender. A similar limiting of options occurs on the national level. Take Vietnam as an example. As our casualty budget was exceeded the President could no longer send in more troops. Then he could not reduce our rate of withdraw.

It should be appreciated that at the strategic level, casualty budgets always vary with enemy actions, our actions, time etc., although for tactical and operational wargame purposes they can be considered being fixed for the duration of the action. One example of the variableness of the budget - our greatest victory at Gettysburg may have been the address by Mr. Lincoln. His few brief remarks significantly increased the government's casualty budget for the war and avoided a premature settlement.

Finally, in the context of military planning, it would be very significant for planners to take into account their perceived Casualty Budget in much the same way as they account for all other manner of military resources such as tanks, ammo, and artillery. Running out of Casualty Budget in a particular conflict can be just as damaging to the effort as it would be to run out of these other resources. Thus the military planner, and the military commander later on, must be sensitive to their allocation of Casualty Budget in a given situation and their expenses relative to that. In a very significant way, Casualty Budgets can very much be the basis for the classical "Win the battle, lose the war" outcome that we attempt to avoid. Or as a member of Parliament put it, "Another Such Victory".

"Another such victory would ruin the British army"

Charles James Fox, British Parliament, after the Battle of Guilford Courthouse.

washingtonpost.com
Boeing Bets on 'Net-Centric' Warfare



The Associated Press
Tuesday, July 6, 2004; 11:25 AM


TACOMA, Wash. -- The Boeing Co. hopes to be a big player in "net-centric" warfare, launched two years ago when a Special Forces operative used a hand-held global-positioning device and a laptop to guide B-52 strikes against terrorist positions in Afghanistan.

"Net-centric operations" allow ground forces to communicate through a computer web with airborne and other units. The technology enables front-line troops and commanders in the rear to get a true picture of the battlefield and shortens response time.

Boeing recently offered reporters access to a usually classified facility in suburban Virginia, where the company offered a 90-minute demonstration, The News Tribune of Tacoma, Wash., reported Monday.

In the series of simulated exercises, aircraft - F/A-18s, F-15s, EA-18s, unmanned aerial vehicles, command-and-control planes, tilt-motor V-22s, Apache and CH-47 helicopters - ground commanders, ship-borne commanders and others were linked for simulated attacks, defense against attacks and extraction of troops caught behind enemy lines.

"The capabilities are mind-boggling," said Jim Albaugh, who heads Boeing's Integrated Defense Systems program.

"For many years it used to be about force. Now, it's all about networks - who can see first, who can react first," he said.

Chicago-based Boeing has invested $500 million to develop net-centric technology and the Pentagon is committed to a 21st-century fighting force. But there are skeptics.

"It's a fine idea," said Loren Thompson, a defense analyst with the Lexington Institute in Arlington, Va. "But will it work? The jury is still out."

Thompson said the idea was an outgrowth of the dot-com boom of the early 1990s, and might have deflated like the boom itself.

"You could say we are getting ready to fight a dot-com war at a time when the enemy is more conventional," he said. "It seems better suited to fighting countries rather than guerrillas. If we were fighting the USSR (Union of Soviet Socialist Republics), it might be effective."

In theory, Thompson said, net-centric operations can apply to any threat, from conventional warfare to terrorism. But he said results in Iraq, where insurgents strike without warning, have been "ambiguous."

Other analysts agree.

"I'm not sure anyone knows where we are headed," said Chris Hellman, with the Center for Arms Control and Non-Proliferation in Washington, D.C.

Hellman said net-centric operations offer commanders potential for a "situational awareness" previously out of reach. The system can serve as a "force multiplier" that allows commanders to focus the firepower of even a small contingent of troops.

"They could face data overload," he said. "How much information is enough, how much is too much?"

Boeing acknowledges current limitations.

"What you saw in Iraqi Freedom combined with Afghanistan was the first net-centric warfare," said Carl O'Berry, a vice president of Boeing's defense team. "But it wasn't robust enough. There were weaknesses."

Company officials have estimated the market for net-centric systems could reach $200 billion over the next 10 years, for communications networks, intelligence, surveillance and reconnaissance projects, command-and-control integration and systems to provide global situational awareness.

Boeing and another company won a $15 billion contract last year for a program that will further improve the ability of soldiers on the ground to communicate with aircraft. This year, Boeing won a contract to develop new combat systems for the Army that could be worth $4 billion over five years.

Every Boeing-produced fighter jet, command-and-control plane, helicopter, unmanned vehicle or other craft, including the Navy's new multimission aircraft, will be equipped to link with net-centric operations, Albaugh said.

Boeing has been struggling with ethics issues recently in its dealings with the Pentagon, but Albaugh noted earlier this summer that the company has won tens of billions of dollars in new defense orders despite the scandals.


© 2004 The Associated Press

Combined Arms Center
Military Review
Military Review JULY-AUGUST 2004

ENGLISH EDITION

Index

Doctrine

2 Center of Gravity Analysis
Colonel Dale C. Eikmeier, U.S. Army

Why are centers of gravity so difficult to identify or define? The Armed Forces have suffered from years of conflicting definitions. Not until 1997 did the services agree to the current joint definition.

6 The Recognition-Primed Decision Model
Karol G. Ross, Ph.D.; Gary A. Klein, Ph.D.; Peter Thunholm, Ph.D.; John F. Schmitt; and Holly C. Baxter, Ph.D.

The Army currently depends on a cumbersome military decisionmaking process. To take full advantage of new capabilities, the Army needs a new, more flexible process.

11 Gettysburg's "Decisive Battle"
Major Thomas Goss, U.S. Army, Ph.D.

The Battle of Gettysburg, when examined for decisions made and results gained, functions as a springboard to address the link between decision and the battlefield.

17 Finesse: A Short Theory of War
Major Michael Forsyth, U.S. Army

In finesse, the focus of military operations might not be on the use of military force. Information operations or a civil-military effort could take precedence.

20 True Battlefield Visibility
Commander Norman R. Denny, U.S. Naval Reserve

The U.S. military is striving to integrate new technology onto the battlefield. One promised improvement would reduce the fog of war through the use of digital communications and unmanned aerial vehicles.

22 Understanding Fear's Effect on Unit Effectiveness
Major Gregory A. Daddis, U.S. Army

Adversaries will continue to use fear as a weapon, especially in asymmetrical warfare, so it is prudent to reexamine fear's effect on unit effectiveness.

Jointness

28 Understanding the Standing Joint Force Headquarters
Colonel Douglas K. Zimmerman, U.S. Army

USJFCOM is developing a joint development and experimentation strategy along two paths: a concept development path and a prototype path.

33 Joint Concept Development at Joint Forces Command
Jeffrey J. Becker, Military Analyst

Rapid change, uncertainty, and the catastrophic consequences of failure mean that the U.S. does not have the luxury of extended and complex development time lines to construct new military capabilities. Military forces must be intellectually and programmatically agile enough to adapt to change faster than our adversaries can.

39 What is Joint Interdependence Anyway?
Colonel Christopher R. Paparone, U.S. Army, and James A. Crupi, Ph.D.

The future of jointness is interdependence, with all services relying on each other's capabilities to be successful. Paparone and Crupi are not satisfied with this vision. Military leaders might miss associated leadership and organizational implications.

42 Something Old, Something New: Guerrillas, Terrorists, and Intelligence Analysis
Lieutenant Colonel Lester W. Grau, U.S. Army, Retired

The Taliban, which cannot match Western coalition forces in technology or conventional combat, has reverted to terrorism and guerrilla warfare, with al-Qaeda assuming an advisory and training role.

50 Will We Need a Space Force?
Major Richard D. Moorhead, U.S. Army

Will space forces become a new armed force on a new battlefield? Opponents claim no combat space mission justifies a separate force. They are correct now, but will that change in the future?

54 Sea-Basing and the Maritime Pre-positioning Force (Future)
Major Henry B. Cook, U.S. Army National Guard

The intent of sea-based operations is to use the flexibility and protection of the sea base to minimize the Marine air-ground task force's presence ashore. The challenge lies in sea-basing's logistical sustainment and implementation.

Leadership

59 Raising the Ante on Building Teams
Colonel Steven M. Jones, U.S. Army

Warfighting readiness demands a synergy of effectively organized and trained soldiers, supported by appropriate, well-maintained equipment. Command climate provides the means to create this synergy and lies at the heart of readiness.

67 Toxic Leadership
Colonel George E. Reed, U.S. Army

In 2003, the U.S. Army War College examined how the Army could assess leaders to detect those with destructive leadership styles. The most important first step in detecting and treating toxic leadership is to recognize the symptoms.

72 Developing Lieutenants in a Transforming Army
Major Kenneth A. Romaine, U.S. Army

Leadership, a decisive factor on the battlefield, takes many forms. No one leadership style, action, or trait is universally effective for all situations. What, then, should be the focus of Army leader development?

81 Gas, Mud, and Blood at Ypres: The Painful Lessons of Chemical Warfare
Major Thomas S. Bundt, U.S. Army, Ph.D.

In 1915, the German Army introduced poison gas at the Second Battle of Ypres in an effort to break the stalemate across Flanders during World War I. A forgotten battlefield with significant lessons for the future, Ypres evokes one of the greatest fears in modern war—the use of chemical weapons.

83 The GI Bill: Recruiting Bonus, Retention Onus
Lieutenant Commander John B. White, U.S. Naval Reserve, Ph.D.

One of the most enduring pieces of legislation that emerged from World War II was the Servicemen's Readjustment Act of 1944, better known as the GI Bill, which has profoundly affected American society in the nearly 60 years that it has been in effect.

Almanac

86 Blitzkrieg in Retrospect
Lieutenant Colonel Samuel J. Newland, U.S. Army, Retired, Ph.D.

Insights

89 Fashioning a U.S.-Israeli Military Alliance
Edward Bernard Glick, Ph.D.

Review Essay

90 Guts and Glory: The American Military Image in Film
Major Jeffrey C. Alfier, U.S. Air Force

91 Islamic Militant Cells and Sadat's Assassination
Lieutenant Commander Youssef H. Aboul-Enein, U.S. Navy

95 Book Reviews contemporary readings for the professional


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Last Reviewed: July 09, 2004

Colonel,

Great stuff. Very appreciative.

Haven't heard from you on the Indian Militry Traditions and Cold Start on the BRF.

Keep the flow going!

Sir,

The BRF is somewhat of an effort. There are times I try extremely hard not to break out laughing. And everybody taking each other so seriously, especially when they don't know what they're talking about. Calvin congratulating YIP's article on Cold Start was hillarious to the extreme.

I like to share with you a tradition of ours - Regiment Day which is includes swaping of jobs (ie the Sgts doing the Officers' job and vice versa), a broomball game (hockey on ice with brooms and a ball) between officers and non-commissioned which usually ending up with the brooms hitting flesh and bone alot more than the ball, and a non-commission mess at the officer's mess with officers forbidden on the premises.

More per your request, Sir.



Overreliance on Technology
in Warfare: The Yom Kippur
War as a Case Study



ROBERT S. BOLIA


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From Parameters, Summer 2004, pp. 46-56.


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Modern military journals are replete with articles claiming that recent advancements in technology constitute a Revolution in Military Affairs (RMA). The authors of these articles claim that innovations in weapon systems—for example, the development of precision guided munitions—and the capacity to wage network-centric warfare are symptomatic of this RMA, and will afford the United States an unprecedented level of situational awareness and the ability to apply force rapidly, accurately, and precisely without fratricide or collateral civilian casualties.1 Should these prophets be believed?

One of the questions that is often sidestepped in these discussions is whether advancements in technology can fundamentally change the character of war. Classical theorists suggest that the essential nature of war is immutable, and as such one is able to derive from its study principles that commanders will always be able to use to guide the development of strategy and tactics.2

On the other hand, it is difficult to argue that technology has not been a factor in warfare. In 1298, for example, it was the English use of the longbow that broke the line of the Scots at Falkirk; the same technology was used to similar effect against the French at Crécy in 1346, at Poitiers in 1356, and at Agincourt in 1415. But had technology changed the nature of war? While the French suffered repeated defeats, the Scots learned their lesson at Falkirk, and when they fought the English again, just 16 years later at Bannockburn, they held a contingent of cavalry in reserve to attack the English archers as soon as they appeared. The archers broke and the English were routed.3

Clearly technology has been able to affect the outcome of individual battles, but can it change the nature of war? Italian theorist Giulio Douhet be-

46/47

lieved that the invention of the airplane had done just that. Douhet, one of the fathers of strategic bombing, suggested several reasons for his belief: (1) with air power it is no longer necessary to break through the enemy’s front lines before attacking his rear; (2) air power can attack industrial and command and control sites in the rear of the enemy army, which can prevent him from adequately communicating with or resupplying his forces; and (3) air power allows for the indiscriminate bombing of civilians as well as soldiers. The first two points, though overstated by Douhet, are important, and have been implemented in nearly every war since the dawn of air power. But the third point is most interesting, not so much for its content but for the peculiar corollary Douhet draws from it: that the mere threat of aerial bombardment of civilian targets will cause governments to capitulate even before the commencement of hostilities, and in fact may bring about an end to warfare.4 Needless to say, this has not occurred.

There are two problems with Douhet’s interpretation. The first is that the invention of aircraft simply added another dimension in which combat may occur. The role of the air force in combat is the same as that of the army or the navy—the application of force to an enemy’s centers of gravity. The second is that Douhet overestimated the ability of strategic bombing to rapidly destroy the enemy’s ability to make war, and underestimated the capacity of civilian populations to endure aerial bombardment. Both of these points were noted during the Second World War, and in many wars since.

Proponents of network-centric warfare, like those of strategic bombing, claim that this new concept of operations will engender an RMA that will fundamentally change the nature of warfare. It too has its discontents, however. Thomas Barnett has enumerated seven reasons why network-centric warfare may not fulfill all of its promises, while Milan Vego has returned to the Clausewitzian argument that technology cannot change the character of war.5 More recently, my colleagues and I have analyzed examples from modern military history to derive five principles that should be applied before introducing technological solutions to problems of decisionmaking and command and control.6 These voices of caution are endorsed by a decade of research by cognitive psychologists on the negative consequences of human interaction with automated systems, including, but not limited to, complacency associated with overreliance on the automation.7

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Despite these concerns, there is little doubt that technology solutions will continue to be promoted regardless of their potential to lead to negative outcomes. The purpose of the present article is to describe the consequences of overreliance on technologically advanced systems over the course of a single war. The Yom Kippur War was selected for this analysis for three primary reasons. First, it was brief. There are certainly more examples of the misuse of technology in longer wars, but their enumeration would take proportionally longer. Second, it was recent enough to have included a number of examples of technological advancements not present in the Six-Day War, fought just six years before. Finally, it represents the culmination of a series of five wars between Israel and her Arab neighbors fought over the course of a quarter of a century. All of the armies involved were experienced at the practice of warfare and were familiar with the terrain over which they were fighting. This facilitates the analysis by reducing the likelihood of inexperience or unfamiliarity with the battlefield creeping up as possible causes of failures.

The Yom Kippur War

The Yom Kippur War, also known as the October War or the Ramadan War, was launched at 2 o’clock on the afternoon 6 October 1973, when Egyptian infantry armed with anti-tank weapons crossed the Suez Canal and assaulted the Bar-Lev Line in the southwest.8 Simultaneously, on Israel’s north-eastern border, Syrian armor attacked Israeli positions all along the Golan Heights. The coordinated attack came as an almost complete surprise to Israel, which was very much unprepared for war.

On the Golan front, Syrian tanks penetrated nearly eight miles into Israeli territory over the course of two days before the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) were able to stabilize the battlefield and prepare to counterattack. By war’s end, Israeli forces had fought their way 15 miles beyond the so-called “Purple Line” that had divided the two nations before the outbreak of hostilities, beating off attacks by Iraqi and Jordanian armored forces along the way. In addition, the IDF destroyed some 1,400 enemy tanks and inflicted more than eight times as many casualties as it suffered.9

The result in the Sinai, while not so dramatic, was in many ways analogous. The Egyptians made a highly successful crossing of the Suez Canal along a broad front, enveloping most of the Israeli defensive positions. However, they failed to press their advantage, and the IDF not only counterattacked but also crossed the canal in force, leaving the Egyptian Third Army completely surrounded. While Egypt still retained positions on the east bank at the time of the cease-fire imposed by the United Nations, momentum had shifted Israel’s way, and from a military standpoint Israel was the clear victor.10

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Yet despite Israel’s eventual military success, victory was not a certainty from the start. Israeli intelligence, due largely to overreliance on technology, had failed to predict the invasion in spite of the existence of a relatively complete situational picture. In terms of doctrine, the IDF relied far too heavily on both the use of armor and the assumption of air supremacy. Egypt and Syria also imparted too great an importance to the technology of war and not enough to what Clausewitz called “the moral dimensions.” In the end, it would be Israeli attention to these intangibles, and an Arab neglect thereof, that cost the Arabs the war.

Complacency and the Interpretation of Intelligence

That the Yom Kippur War began as a surprise to the IDF was a testament not so much to the ability of the Arab armies to conceal their actions as to the arrogance of the Israeli leadership. Indeed, Egyptian leaders had anticipated that despite their considerable efforts at deception, the Israelis would discern their intention to attack several days before the attack was scheduled to occur. They were counting on Israeli mobilization providing them enough time to cross the canal and establish bridgeheads, which they expected to be able to hold until the United Nations could mandate a cease-fire. The Egyptian high command estimated that the army would suffer 26,000 casualties in the act of crossing the canal, including some 10,000 killed. Because of the almost complete surprise of the operation, the dead numbered only 208.11

The overconfidence of the Israeli general staff was due to a number of factors that are not necessarily independent. For example, there was the awareness that the Israeli Air Force (IAF) was in many ways superior to the Arab air forces. Tied with this, however, was the view that the IAF’s preemptive destruction of the Egyptian, Syrian, and Jordanian air forces had enabled the final victory of the IDF in the Six-Day War, coupled with a certainty that the Arabs shared this view. From these data the Israelis deduced that Egypt would not attack until she had sufficient numbers of medium bombers and fighter-bombers to enable her to strike Israeli airfields deep inside Israel. While some of the assumptions were correct, it was not true that the war had been won because of the IAF—Arab units in the field had collapsed due to lack of leadership, not to lack of air support—nor was the model of Arab decisionmaking valid. Of course the Arabs had realized the need to be able to combat the IAF, but, as the October War would demonstrate, destruction of runways was not the only solution.12 “They forgot,” wrote Mohamed Heikal, Egypt’s Minister of Information in 1973, “that it was not their genius but our failure that handed them victory in 1967 on a plate.”13

While one source of Israeli overconfidence was the inappropriate model of Egyptian military planning, there were certainly others. First, Israe-

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lis generally had contempt for the Arab soldier. However, while it is true that the Arabs had been routed in both 1956 and 1967, it is not true that they could not fight well. In fact, like most troops, they fought well when they were led well. But leadership in the Arab armies in the 1950s and 1960s had been generally poor, with general officer positions being filled by political appointees rather than the most qualified professional soldiers.14

Second, after having scored a perfect four victories in four tries against various combinations of Arab armies, IDF commanders had developed a sense of invincibility.15 This led many Israelis to the conclusion that any war with their Arab neighbors would quickly result in certain victory. Indeed, Israeli Chief of Staff David Elazar had noted that “in the context of the 1973 balance of power, Egypt has no chance whatsoever of accomplishing any significant military goal [against Israel].”16 Sadly, the corollary to this theorem was that there was little reason to make any concessions to Egypt, Jordan, or Syria in exchange for peace.17

Finally, the IDF placed great confidence in AMAN, its military intelligence service. But AMAN suffered the same delusions of invincibility as the remainder of the IDF, and held the same disdainful view of the Arab forces. This led to misuse of the considerable intelligence technology AMAN could bring to bear on the Egyptian and Syrian deployments, and consequently a failure to predict the war in a timely fashion.

For example, on 4 October—just two days before the crossing of the canal—Israeli reconnaissance aircraft took photographs that demonstrated a significant increase in the amount of Egyptian artillery, tanks, and bridging equipment on the banks of the canal. The Israelis were not fazed. They simply could not bring themselves to believe that the Egyptians would attack, and as a result they adopted the interpretation that the Egyptian Army was deploying only for an exercise.18

This view was supported by signals intelligence. The Israeli intelligence services had erected listening posts all along the Suez front, and they intercepted large quantities of Egyptian military communications. But the Egyptian high command was not communicating via electronic means in the days preceding the attack on the Bar-Lev Line. Unfortunately for Israel, many of the communications intercepted during this period were part of a deception campaign to convince the IDF that an attack was not imminent, including instructions for units to renew leaves and permissions for officers to make the pilgrimage to Mecca. These ruses were typically accepted at face value by AMAN.19

On the other hand, when Arab commanders made mistakes and transmitted vital information about the operation, the Israelis ignored it. On the same day as the Israeli photoreconnaissance, signals intelligence intercepted

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an order from the Egyptian high command to break the Ramadan fast, a sure sign that something extraordinary was about to occur. It too was ignored.20

Technology and Doctrine

The IDF had not remained stagnant since the Six-Day War in terms of technology. Its weapons inventory had been augmented substantially by shipments of Skyhawk and Phantom jets from the United States, along with Hawk surface-to-air missiles, M60 tanks, M113 armored personnel carriers, and M109 self-propelled artillery pieces. Egypt and Syria also had received large quantities of modern weapon systems from their Soviet allies, including MiG-21s and MiG-25s; SA-2, SA-3, SA-6, and SA-7 surface-to-air missiles; Sagger shoulder-launched, wire-guided, anti-tank missiles; and T-62 tanks.21 Both sides were well equipped for the impending battle. The major problem for the IDF would be that it had modernized its weapons but not its doctrine.

In war there is always a concern that an army will learn lessons from its previous combat experience and apply them stringently to future combat scenarios, regardless of whether they are applicable. The IDF general staff had certainly fallen into this trap, to the extent that by 1973 they were prepared to fight not the last war, but the war before last. Both the Suez Conflict and the Six-Day War had left the Israelis with the impression that wars on the ground were won by armor and armor alone. As a result, they failed to develop an integrated infantry-armor doctrine, and effectively eschewed the use of infantry. This was epitomized by the IDF’s abandonment of the flexible task force as its division organizational concept, in favor of the armored division.

This overreliance on armor would prove to be devastating to the IDF on a number of occasions, the most notorious of which was the attack on Tel Shams, a well-defended hill on the Golan Heights. In one attempt on 12 October, 28 tanks of the Israeli 7th Armored Brigade attempted to take the position, but were beaten back by Syrian infantry armed with Sagger anti-tank missiles. The assault failed terribly, resulting in heavy casualties and the loss of all but two of the tanks. The next day, the same position was taken by Israeli paratroopers with a loss of only four wounded. This effectively proved to the Israelis that armor should not be the weapon of choice for every mission, one of the most important lessons the IDF was to learn in the Yom Kippur War.22 On the other hand, it also demonstrated that when stripped of their technological advantage, Syrian troops were no match for the highly trained, highly motivated IDF.

While the Israelis misinterpreted the results of the Six-Day War in their development of an armor-only doctrine, what they seem to have forgotten with respect to armor was its application to flexible mobility. Instead, they constructed a line of fortifications along the canal—the Bar-Lev Line, named

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for the IDF Chief of Staff at the time—and settled into a doctrine of static defense. Not only had this failed the French in World War II, it had failed the Israelis in the War of Attrition, although they were still clinging to it in 1973.23

Clausewitz wrote, “Defense is the stronger form of waging war.”24 The Israelis were counting on this when they built their line of defense. The Suez Canal itself constituted what Israeli Defense Minister Moshe Dayan called “one of the best anti-tank ditches available.” The Israelis had made the canal even more of an obstacle by creating sand levees ranging in height from 18 to 75 feet all along the canal. Further east, they had erected a series of fortifications whose guns were sited to provide overlapping fields of fire against an Egyptian force attempting to cross the canal. While formidable, these works were not designed to withstand a long siege, but only as fortified observation posts, strong enough to hold out until the armor arrived.25

But armor was precisely the problem. First, there was not nearly enough of it along the canal to prevent a crossing on a broad front. Second, while Israel had developed its entire doctrine around armored technology, Egypt and Syria had developed a doctrine for combined-arms operations specifically designed to counter Israeli armored tactics. This involved spearheading armored operations by massive artillery bombardments, followed by large formations of infantry armed with hundreds of portable anti-tank weapons. Of course the Israelis were familiar with the existence of these weapons and their presence in the Arab inventories. There was nothing particularly novel about them, after all. What came as a shock to the IDF was the sheer number of them. When the Israeli tanks arrived on the scene, whether in the Sinai or on the Golan front, they were decimated. It was a classic move on the part of the Arabs: striking an Israeli center of gravity with as much force as possible.26

Part of the IDF’s problem was its overreliance on armor; another equally important component was its underreliance on artillery. The latter was related to the fact that in most of the wars fought previously between the Israelis and their Arab neighbors, the IAF had gained air superiority within the first few days of the conflict, allowing its planes to be used in a close air support role. Thus the IDF developed a doctrine similar to that of the US Marine Corps, which uses aircraft to strike the forward edge of the battle area in lieu of artillery. The difficulty in 1973 was that air supremacy was hard to come by.27

The reason for this was the air defense system developed by Egypt and Syria in coordination with their Soviet allies during and after the War of Attrition. Arab airspace was protected by hundreds of batteries of surface-to-air missiles, hundreds more mobile and shoulder-launched missiles, and thousands of batteries of radar-guided, anti-aircraft artillery. In combination these weapon systems provided interlocking fields of fire from ground level to somewhere above 60,000 feet.28

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The existence of the missile umbrella was not a surprise to the IAF. Israeli pilots had come up against it in the War of Attrition, and they knew that their planes were vulnerable. But in the three years of relative quiet since then, the IAF had developed countermeasures and other techniques for taking the missile batteries out of the equation. The problem was, all of their planning was based on preemptive strikes, since AMAN had guaranteed the IDF at least 48 hours’ notice prior to an Arab attack. On Yom Kippur, that notice was not given.29

The IAF performed well in the Yom Kippur War, downing scores of Egyptian and Syrian aircraft in dogfights with a loss of only four of its own jets. At the same time, it lost 100 planes to surface-to-air missiles or anti-aircraft fire, and, because of the missile umbrella over the Arab forces, it was unable to be used effectively in a close support role for much of the war.30 This did not represent a failure of technology on Israel’s part, but rather—as was the case with the IDF’s armor—a failure to recognize that there are limits to the effectiveness of technology, and that the way to extend these limits is by the development of tactics and doctrine appropriate for a wide range of situations. By relying on a doctrine based on a preemptive strike, the IAF had essentially taken itself out of the ground war.

Of all of the services, it was the Israeli Navy that was most prepared to fight the Yom Kippur War. Since 1967, the Israeli Navy had been completely refurbished, and now boasted a fleet of 14 small, fast, missile boats armed with Israeli-produced Gabriel ship-to-ship missiles. Both the Egyptians and the Syrians had their own missile boats, armed with Soviet-built Styx missiles, which had almost twice the range of the Gabriel. Despite the technological superiority of the Arab missiles, the Israelis sunk four Syrian missile boats in the Battle of Latakia—the first naval missile battle in history—and three Egyptian missile boats in the Battle of Damiette-Balatin, without losing a single vessel. This feat was achieved by the use of aggressive tactics and electronic countermeasures, which allowed the Israeli vessels to evade the 52 Styx missiles launched against them.31

The Moral Dimensions

Much of this article has been devoted to discussions of Israeli intelligence and doctrinal failures in the Yom Kippur War due to overreliance on technology, yet the fact remains that Israel emerged victorious from the war. How does one account for this? Clausewitz suggested that in addition to massing forces against centers of gravity, one must consider the “moral dimensions,” which he believed were “the most important to pay attention to in war.”32 Among these he counted the skill of the commander, the military virtue of the troops, and the sense of “national spirit” (Volksgeist).33 Superiority

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in these factors could overcome not only friction, but also an enemy’s superiority in technology.

The Arab armies—with the possible exception of Jordan—had long suffered from a dearth of good leadership, largely because general officer positions were often awarded based on political connections rather than on a general’s ability to conduct campaigns. The Egyptians and the Syrians both had worked toward ameliorating this problem after “the setback”—an Arab euphemism for the Six-Day War—with positive results.34 Still, their generals had nowhere near the experience of the Israeli commanders, nor the respect of the troops.

Most of the Israeli generals had led troops in all of Israel’s wars since 1948. They were very experienced—arguably there were no general officers in any army in the world in 1973 with as much combat leadership experience as the Israelis—and they were very confident. Furthermore, they inspired confidence in their subordinates, who were also able leaders. Israeli officers have a tradition of leading from the front, rather than from a rear headquarters area, and were generally not willing to send troops into a fight that they would not go into themselves. This is reflected in very high rates of officer casualties in all of Israel’s wars, but especially for tank commanders operating on the Golan Heights in 1973.

While the officers were experienced and courageous, so were the troops. Israeli soldiers had fought in four wars since the founding of their country, and their experiences—with their officers, with each other, and ultimately with the victories they had won—had positively reinforced their behavior. War was nothing new to them, and they were well trained for it.

The Israelis also possessed what Clausewitz called Volksgeist, a patriotic or national spirit. Because the goal of the Arabs in most of their wars with Israel was the eradication of Israel as a nation, the Israelis always felt as though they were fighting not simply to win, but also to exist. This was a unifying factor, like the natural camaraderie associated with the common bond of military service. But in the Yom Kippur War, there was more to it than that. Israel was now 25 years old, and those who had fought as young men in the War for Independence were still fighting. But this time their sons and daughters were fighting as well. Major General Chaim Herzog relates a story that illustrates the point:

Early in the war [General Benjamin Peled, commander IAF] attended an off-the-record briefing given by Minister of Defence Moshe Dayan to the editors of the Israeli press. Peled reported on the air war and mentioned in passing the loss of an Israeli plane that morning of which the crew was missing. While he was speaking a note was passed to him; he read it and commented, “interesting.” Looking up he reported that the missing pilot and navigator had been recovered

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by a rescue team and were on their way back to their airfield. At this point Dayan interjected that the pilot was Peled’s son. “Yes,” said Peled, adding with an expressionless look on his face, “and tonight they will be in action again.”35

It was, as Herzog noted, a war of fathers and sons.

This has implications not only for families or for the camaraderie of the troops, but also for the Israeli society. In Israel, military service is very much a part of normal life. While some authors have pointed out that this has engendered an over-militarization of Israeli society, and occasioned a loss of traditional values, it has certainly been a factor in the development and training of the IDF as an effective fighting force.36

Conclusion

One of the imprints of the Yom Kippur War on military history has been the lessons it has provided regarding the danger of relying on technology as a replacement for doctrine, tactics, and training. This has been demonstrated in this article by examining the overreliance on signals intelligence—which is only as good as the information it intercepts, and ultimately its interpretation— that led to the Israelis being surprised by the attack on 6 October 1973; and by looking at Israel’s failure to develop a combined-arms doctrine, relying instead on armor and the Israeli Air Force to the exclusion of adequate infantry and artillery, in the face of Arab armies and air forces that had developed such doctrine.

The article also has pointed out that while the Israelis were able to overcome their deficiencies, they did so only by means that were completely independent of technology: the quality of their leaders, the quality of their troops, and their national spirit. This should not be taken to mean that advancements in technology have no place in warfare. Rather, the interpretation should be that technology must not be allowed to surpass the development of doctrine and tactics to guide its usage, nor hailed to the exclusion of the human element.


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NOTES

1. Arthur K. Cebrowski and John J. Gartska, “Network-Centric Warfare: Its Origin and Future,” Proceedings, January 1998; Bill Owens with Ed Offley, Lifting the Fog of War (New York: Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 2000).

2. Carl von Clausewitz, Vom Kriege (Berlin: Ullstein, 2002); Antoine Henri Jomini, Précis de l’Art de la Guerre (Paris: Perrin, 2001).

3. D. F. Featherstone, The Bowmen of England: The Story of the English Longbow (Barnsley, UK: Pen & Sword Press, 2003).

4. Giulio Douhet, The Command of the Air, in Roots of Strategy, Book 4, ed. David Jablonsky (Mechanicsburg, Pa.: Stackpole Books, 1999).

5. Thomas P. M. Barnett, “The Seven Deadly Sins of Network-Centric Warfare,” Proceedings, January 1999; Milan Vego, “Net-Centric is not Decisive,” Proceedings, January 2003.

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6. Robert S. Bolia, Michael A. Vidulich, W. Todd Nelson, and Malcolm J. Cook, “The Use of Technology to Support Decision-Making and Command & Control: A Historical Perspective,” Proceedings of the Conference on Human Factors of Decision Making in Complex Systems (September 2003).

7. Raja Parasuraman and V. R. Riley, “Humans and Automation: Use, Misuse, Disuse, Abuse,” Human Factors, 39 (1999), 230-53; Nadine Sarter and David D. Woods, “How in the World Did We Ever Get into that Mode? Mode Error and Awareness in Supervisory Control,” Human Factors, 37 (1995), 5-19.

8. For two good, though very different, treatments of the war, see Chaim Herzog, The War of Atonement: The Inside Story of the Yom Kippur War (London: Greenhill Books, 2003); and the Insight Team of the Sunday Times, The Yom Kippur War (New York: ibooks, 2002).

9. Simon Dunstan, The Yom Kippur War 1973 (1): The Golan Heights (London: Osprey Publishing, 2003), pp. 37, 83-84.

10. Simon Dunstan, The Yom Kippur War 1973 (2): The Sinai (London: Osprey Publishing, 2003), pp. 82-83, 91.

11. Mohamed Heikal, The Road to Ramadan (London: William Collins Sons, 1975), pp. 11-45; Chaim Herzog, The Arab-Israeli Wars (New York: Vintage Books, 1984), p. 242.

12. Herzog, The Arab-Israeli Wars, p. 227; Benny Morris, Righteous Victims: A History of the Zionist-Arab Conflict, 1881-2001 (New York: Vintage Books, 2001), p. 393.

13. Heikal, p. 45.

14. John Laffin, Arab Armies of the Middle East Wars, 1948-73 (London: Osprey Publishing, 1982), pp. 10-11.

15. Walter J. Boyne, The Two O’Clock War: The 1973 Yom Kippur Conflict and the Airlift that Saved Israel (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2002), pp. 10-11. The 1948-49 War for Independence and the 1967 Six-Day War were certainly victories. The Israelis had won a military victory in the Suez Campaign of 1956, even though they had been compelled by pressure from the United States to evacuate Sinai. The War of Attrition was claimed as a victory by both sides. For Israel, however, its military legacy included the inappropriate solidification of doctrinal developments that would lead to many casualties in the Yom Kippur War.

16. Ehud Yonay, No Margin for Error: The Making of the Israeli Air Force (New York: Pantheon Books, 1993), p. 314.

17. Martin van Creveld, The Sword and the Olive: A Critical History of the Israeli Defense Force (New York: PublicAffairs, 2002), p. 220; Avi Shlaim, The Iron Wall: Israel and the Arab World (New York: W. W. Norton, 2001), pp. 315-18.

18. Ian Black and Benny Morris, Israel’s Secret Wars: A History of Israel’s Intelligence Services (New York: Grove Press, 1991), pp. 309-10.

19. Ibid., p. 297.

20. Ibid., p. 309.

21. Samuel M. Katz, Arab Armies of the Middle East Wars 2 (London: Osprey Publishing, 1988), p. 5; David Eshel, Chariots of the Desert: The Story of the Israeli Armoured Corps (London: Brassey’s Defence Publishers, 1989), pp. 93, 190.

22. Herzog, The Arab-Israeli Wars, pp. 296-97.

23. Note that not all Israeli commanders agreed with this view. Major Generals Israel Tal and Ariel Sharon both proposed a doctrine of flexible mobility, but were ignored. Ariel Sharon with David Chanoff, Warrior: An Autobiography (New York: Touchstone, 2001), pp. 219-20; Eshel, pp. 89-90.

24. “Die Verteidigung sei die stärkere Form des Kriegführens.” Clausewitz, p. 372.

25. Herzog, The Arab-Israeli Wars, p. 230; John Laffin, The Israeli Army in the Middle East Wars, 1948-73 (London: Osprey Publishing, 1982), p. 21.

26. Hassan el-Badri, Taha el-Magdoub, and Mohammed Dia el-Din Zohdy, The Ramadan War, 1973 (Dunn Loring, Va.: T. N. Dupuy Associates, 1979), pp. 36-37.

27. Herzog, The War of Atonement, pp. 251-53.

28. Lon Nordeen, Air Warfare in the Missile Age (Washington: Smithsonian Institution Press, 2002), p. 143.

29. Yonay, pp. 310-12.

30. Nordeen, p. 141.

31. Van Creveld, p. 246; Herzog, The Arab-Israeli Wars, pp. 311-14.

32. “. . . die moralischen Größen zu den wichtigsten Gegenständen des Krieges gehören.” Clausewitz, p. 166.

33. Ibid., p. 168.

34. Heikal, pp. 48-50.

35. Herzog, The War of Atonement, p. 255.

36. Van Creveld, pp. 153-56.


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Robert Bolia is a computer scientist at the US Air Force Research Laboratory’s Human Effectiveness Directorate, Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, Ohio, where he studies the application of advanced technology and automated decision support systems to problems of military decisionmaking and command and control. He is currently completing a master’s degree in joint warfare at American Military University.


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Reviewed 24 May 2004. Please send comments or corrections to Parameters@carlisle.army.mil

Originally Posted by Officer of Engineers

Sir,

The BRF is somewhat of an effort. There are times I try extremely hard not to break out laughing. And everybody taking each other so seriously, especially when they don't know what they're talking about. Calvin congratulating YIP's article on Cold Start was hillarious to the extreme.

I like to share with you a tradition of ours - Regiment Day which is includes swaping of jobs (ie the Sgts doing the Officers' job and vice versa), a broomball game (hockey on ice with brooms and a ball) between officers and non-commissioned which usually ending up with the brooms hitting flesh and bone alot more than the ball, and a non-commission mess at the officer's mess with officers forbidden on the premises.

More per your request, Sir.


]

Laughable? You are being polite!

Something of our traditions:

We have a JCOs/ NCOs Day every week. JCO which stands for Junior Commissioned Officers (an unique rank between officers and soldiers created by the British as a 'go between') run the unit for that day, while the officers have waht is known as the Officers Day where lectures on a variety of subjects are given so that they are updated with whats happening in the world armies, tactics as also the InA.

This is to bring in a sense of responsibility and feel of command to the JCOs to function without officers!

We have what is known as a Barakhana where the unit organises a grand meal with a vareitry entertainment on their own and officers are 'guests'.

We have a monthly Sainik Sammelan (Interface) where the CO address the troops and they give out their problems and the CO gives out what is the solution in his mind and what can be done. There is Minutes which are read out at the next monthly meeting and so the CO cannot poodle fake! He has to answer!

We have Weekly Family Welfare where the families give their problems and the officers' wives the solution as also crafts are taught so that they become socially productive.

And many more......

I reckon these were also during British days.

Oh yes some more.

On 26 Jan every year (Our Republic Day) the Officers are called to the JCOs Mess for Cocktails and the Officers reciprocate on 15 Aug (Independence Day).

My dumb ass mistake was allowing my troop to detonate the remaining 5kg of C4 we had left over in one single charge.


Mistakes Beget Wiser Colonels and Generals
August 2004


By Maj. Gen. Guy S. Meloy, U.S. Army retired


In early spring 1957, the 11th Airborne Division stationed at Augsburg and Munich, Germany, completed the Pentomic reorganization from three infantry regiments to five battle groups. Each battle group was organized with a large headquarters company, an even larger combat support company, an artillery battery of eight 4.2" mortars and five super-size 240-man rifle companies, each with a company headquarters of supply, mess, administration, operations and communications personnel, a weapons platoon of 81 mm mortars and 106 mm recoilless rifles, and four rifle platoons of 47 men.

I was a rifle platoon leader assigned to Company C, 1st Battle Group, 187th Airborne Infantry. The airborne rifle platoon table of organization and equipment specified a platoon leader, platoon sergeant, radio operator, a platoon messenger (called the runner), three 11-man rifle squads equipped with nine M1 and two Browning automatic rifles (BARs), and a weapons squad of two M1919A6 light machine-gun and two 3.5" bazooka crews. It also listed two M274A1 Mules, which were small four-wheel platforms powered by a 4-cylinder, air-cooled engine.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending upon your point of view, production had not yet caught up with requirements, so each rifle platoon was issued two jeeps and trailers in lieu of, thus making airborne rifle platoons the best mounted light infantry of that size in the Army. While this may have had some drawbacks tactically and logistically, we rifle platoon leaders thought it was a splendid idea as it provided the you-own-it-you-carry-it-on-your-back airborne infantry rifle platoons capabilities and conveniences they never had before (or since).

In August 1957, on the third day of an Army training test at the Hohen-fels Training Area, located east of Nuremberg, Germany, the 1st Battle Group, 187th Airborne Infantry was conducting a night withdrawal. It had started raining hard that afternoon, and it was still raining. There was a quarter moon, however, which meant some visibility, but not much. My platoon, the 4th Platoon of Charlie Company, otherwise known by the self-designated title as the Fourth Platoon of U.S. Rifles (Airborne), was designated the company’s "unit left in contact."

To imitate the full strength company, disguise the withdrawal and deceive the enemy, shortly after dark, my platoon slipped into selected positions occupied by the other three platoons deployed across Charlie Company’s defensive front. An hour or so later, the main body of the company pulled quietly out of its positions, assembled and withdrew. At about 0200, I received radio instructions to withdraw my platoon and rejoin the main body, which by this time had started to prepare a new defense position about 10 kilometers to the west.

It had been a busy three days and a long, wet, miserable afternoon and night. The rain continued, we knew we still had to make a three-hour night march on muddy, slippery roads under strict noise and light discipline, and the troops were tired and wet to the bone.

As I assembled Charlie Company’s distinguished Fourth Platoon of U.S. Rifles (Airborne), the platoon sergeant, a fine soldier (and to this day, a good friend) named Claude P. Rule, from Abilene, Texas, suddenly appeared out of the darkness with one of the wildest suggestions I had ever heard. "Sir, I’ll bet that given the ingenuity of the American soldier, if you told them (the platoon) that if they could figure out some way for all 47 of us to fit on those two jeeps and trailers and ride all the way back (to the company assembly area) instead of walking, somehow they’d figure out how to do that." Instinctively, I said, "You have to be kidding." Even in the dark, I could see his smile. "No, sir, I’m not. Would you like to see them try?" Never believing it was possible, I thoughtlessly--and quite foolishly--said, "Sure, why not?" Lesson to all present and future lieutenants: Always take seriously anything your platoon sergeant suggests, and never underestimate the ingenuity of the American soldier.

To my amazement, in about 60 seconds flat, the men of the Fourth Platoon of U.S. Rifles (Airborne) stacked themselves like cordwood onto two jeeps and trailers. Bodies lay on top of bodies in every imaginable configuration as soldiers held onto their weapons and equipment and one another, by their fingertips. By some mysterious quirk, this was accomplished from start to finish without a sound--no whispers, no grunts or groans and no arguments about who was going to ride where. It almost looked rehearsed. I was impressed. To my regret, however, 30 minutes later so were some others--but for different reasons.

Because the only lights were the jeep’s "cat-eyes," and as it was still raining hard, it was almost impossible for the drivers to see where they were going. So Claude Rule and I hopped up on the hood of the lead jeep with our feet resting on its front bumper, and two of the squad leaders did the same on the other jeep. The drivers relied completely on our directions: "A tad to the right," "Straighten it out," "You’re doing OK," "Whoa! Back up two feet." Looking like fugitives from a bankrupt circus, the platoon slowly motored down a narrow muddy road to rejoin Charlie Company. I would estimate our speed was maybe three or four miles an hour, often a bit less (in fact we probably could have walked faster), but at least we were riding instead of walking, stumbling and slipping in the mud, and we were going in the right direction.

At first I thought, "Hey, this nutty idea is working after all," but it did not take long before I realized that this was not only a boneheaded idea tactically, but not a good idea from a safety point of view either. Two events, both occurring almost simultaneously, made it abundantly clear that my decision to ride instead of walk to the company assembly area was, to be charitable, as dumb-as-a-stump stupid. The best way to describe the first event is that two of my men fell off the side of the second trailer and slid into a muddy ditch. Actually, it was a lot more complicated than that because as they slipped, they took a machine-gun crew with them. Lots of commotion and shouts to stop were followed by, "Need some help back here!" As I turned to see several flashlights searching back and forth on the road and in the ditch, and listened to shouts of, "Are you guys OK?" noise and light discipline changed instantly from excellent to nonexistent. While I had a reasonably good idea of what was going on, Col. Norman G. Reynolds, who just so happened to be the commander of the entire 187th Airborne Infantry and unfortunately, by sheer coincidence, also just so happened to be standing nearby, did not. All he knew was that as best he could see in the dark and hear through the rain, a large gang of men suddenly started jumping off jeeps and trailers and began shouting and running hither and yon with flashlights. Apparently this was somewhat disconcerting, especially since standing next to him was another colonel, and this fellow just so happened to be the chief umpire/evaluator for the battle group Army training test.

Col. Reynolds was about 5'6" tall, except on those rare occasions when he was mad, at which time he became 6'6". As I was trying to sort through the confusion and bring some order to what was rapidly becoming chaos, I heard a familiar if bewildered voice behind me ask, "Who are you guys, and what in the devil do you think you’re doing?" Whoops! I turned around and blurted out, "Good evening, sir, how are you tonight?" A long pause, then coming closer in the dark, Reynolds asked, "Meloy, is that you?" With heart in throat, I replied, "I’m afraid so, sir." At this point, I knew I was doomed.

Col. Reynolds very quickly established that "Yes, sir, the entire Fourth Platoon of U.S. Rifles (Airborne) had, indeed, been loaded aboard just two jeeps and trailers," and "Yes, sir, I, Lt. of Infantry Guy. S. Meloy had personally approved this nifty idea," and "Yes, sir, we were fortunate indeed that no one had been hurt." Just as quickly we also agreed that "Yes, sir, I will be happy to tell the men that we are going to start walking from here," and that "Yes, sir, I don’t mind accompanying you down the road for a few minutes while you personally discuss this clever idea with me eyeball-to-eyeball," (where, in very few but poignant words, Col. Reynolds confirmed that loading an entire rifle platoon onto two jeeps and trailers was not exactly a bright idea).

By the time Col. Reynolds finished describing the difference between taking care of your men and forfeiting common sense, he had convinced me never to make that mistake--or any like it--ever again. And by the time Capt. Arch E. Carpenter, my company commander, had reinforced Col. Reynolds’ point of view in even more eloquent language, I had learned my lesson thoroughly; but I had also learned a second and even more important lesson. By sunup that morning, Arch Carpenter had "forgotten" all about it, and so had Norman Reynolds. They both figured I had learned something, and since no real harm had been done, in their judgment what was learned was more important than how it was learned. No postcounseling consequences, no remarks in a real or imagined "black book" and no "gotcha"--just "end of discussion, period."

Much to the amazement of Norman Reynolds and Arch Carpenter, not to mention Claude P. Rule of Abilene, Texas, and several other NCOs who had tutored me along the way, I, the former commander-in-chief of the Fourth Platoon of U.S. Rifles (Airborne) became the commanding general of the 82nd Airborne Division at Fort Bragg, N.C. The 82nd, as I suspect was the case in most other divisions, had a long-standing policy that any time a commissioned officer was being considered for uniform code of military justice action, his or her case was first reviewed by the commanding general. The reason was obvious, as even a nonjudicial Article 15 could, and usually did, have disastrous consequences for an officer’s career.

Late one evening as I prepared to leave the headquarters, the division staff Judge Advocate came to my office to advise me that a lieutenant in one of the infantry brigades was being charged with several offenses under Article 15. As I started to read the charges and specifications, it was clear that this lieutenant had goofed, but the more I read, the more I realized he did so while trying to "take care of his men." Because this reminded me of a lieutenant I knew, who 22 years earlier had also goofed while "trying to take care of his men," I asked the chief of staff to invite the lieutenant and his company, battalion and brigade commanders to my office at 1700 the next day.

The following afternoon, the group reported to my office. The lieutenant was expecting the worse, I am sure. Having by this time had his rear end chomped on by most of his chain of command, I suspect he thought I intended to cut off his uniform buttons and drum him out of the service then and there. After asking everyone to be seated, I turned to the lieutenant and said, "You don’t have to, but I would like to hear your side of the story. How about telling me exactly what happened and what you did to cause your brigade commander to consider an Article 15?" As near as I recall, this is his story.

"Sir, I am the platoon leader of the __ Battalion’s 81 mm mortar platoon. As you know, we are equipped with the M274A5 Mules, which do not have any lights or other safety devices. They are great for cross-country movement, but not for main roads, so when the platoon has field training, the battalion furnishes deuce-and-a-half trucks to transport the mortars and the Mules to the training area. On the day I screwed up, we left the battalion area right after PT (physical training) and were driven to the vicinity of observation post 5 next to the impact area. We spent most of the day shooting HE (high explosive) live rounds and practicing immediate action drills and no-notice repositioning.

"We needed to practice walking illumination rounds in front of infantry, so I had also scheduled some night firing. Battalion brought us hot chow for supper, and we waited until dark. We fired approximately 20 illumination rounds and then loaded up to come home. By this time it was about 2200. I called the battalion duty NCO on the range phone to request the deuce-and-a-halfs, which we had already arranged. He told me, "They’re on the way." It’s only about five miles to the barracks, so after about half an hour, I called the duty NCO again. He said he’d try to find out what the hold up was. About 15 minutes later he called back and told me the drivers screwed up, but everything was now squared away and the trucks should be there any minute. Thirty more minutes passed, so I called battalion again. The duty NCO was surprised that we were still waiting at the range and promised to personally get the trucks on the way, even if he had to drive one himself. After another 30 minutes, I gave up on battalion and decided that one way or another, I was going to get my troops home before midnight.

"I knew what the SOP (standard operating procedure) said about keeping Mules off the hardtops (main roads), but I didn’t think it was fair to keep my men in the field all night just because battalion couldn’t find truck drivers. I lined up our six Mules, placed three men with flashlights on the front of the first to warn oncoming traffic, and three on the last one in the column, facing to the rear, with red filters on their flashlights to warn traffic coming behind us. I stayed as far to the right as I could without going into the ditch, and we started home. We were within a mile of the barracks when some post MPs spotted us, pulled us over, read the riot act to me, wrote me up for violating regulations and endangering the lives of my men and refused to let us proceed until the division MPs came and escorted us the rest of the way. By the time we got our weapons and gear cleaned up and put away, it was about 0100 hours.

"The next morning I explained what happened to Capt. __ (his company commander), who wasn’t all that happy to have a DR (delinquency report) on one of his officers. He chewed me out, which I knew I deserved, and that was the last I heard about it, until two days ago when Col. __ (the brigade commander) called me to his office to tell me I was going to get an Article 15."
After listening to his story, I thanked the lieutenant for being forthright, and asked, "What did you learn from all this?" He said, "Sir, I learned a couple of things. First, I should have done a better job in laying on those deuce-and-a-halfs, but the biggest thing I learned is there are a lot of ways to take care of your men, but you better have a good alternate plan in case the first one doesn’t work."

I tried not to smile, thanked the lieutenant for his candor, said we would take into consideration the circumstances as he described them and told him to return to his unit. After he left, I asked each member of his chain of command what sort of officer he was.

The company commander described him as "my most outstanding lieutenant--a real comer." The battalion commander agreed, adding, "He’s the kind of officer the Army needs." The brigade commander admitted, "I really don’t know him that well, but until this, he seemed like a fine officer."

After thinking about it, I decided it was time to put this incident in perspective.

I said, "I want to tell you a story. It’s about this lieutenant I knew pretty well who was so dumb that, if you can believe this, he loaded an entire rifle platoon on two jeeps and trailers, in a rainstorm, in the middle of the night when you couldn’t see 10 feet, and actually tried to transport them 10 klicks on muddy roads to a new position."

I described what happened the night that this well-intentioned but imprudent lieutenant tried to "take care of his men," and I went into considerable detail to explain the reactions of this lieutenant’s company and battle group commanders.

After letting them think about it for a few moments, I looked each in the eye and said, "If that lieutenant I just described had been given an Article 15, I would not be sitting here today, because you’re looking at him." You can imagine the look on their faces.

I turned to the brigade commander and asked, "Do you truly believe the Army is going to be better off by giving an Article 15 to a lieutenant who screwed up because in his mind he was only trying to take care of his men?

"Even though it wasn’t entirely his fault that the trucks didn’t show up, he’s admitted he made a dumb mistake, and he’s been properly chewed out for it. But he also learned some things, and he will be a better officer for having learned them, too. I have a hunch that I’m not the only one in this room who screwed up at least once somewhere along the line. Given those circumstances, is an Article 15 really necessary or even warranted? How about sleeping on it, then let me know in the morning what you finally decide."

There was no Article 15. I do not know what happened to that lieutenant--I hope he remained in the Army and has had a successful career. Who knows, maybe today he’s a colonel who underwrites mistakes like Col. Norman G. Reynolds and Capt. (and later colonel) Arch E. Carpenter did, and maybe someday he--or some other senior officer--will remind some other lieutenant’s chain of command that the Army is not a zero-defects organization. It is an institution manned by people, and people, especially those just getting started in this very demanding profession, are not always right. But good people become wiser, are promoted, continue to take care of their troops and win battles because, fortunately, most of them learn from their mistakes, and they learn their lessons quickly and well. Indeed, if we lined up a hundred colonels or generals to survey what they had in common, I would bet a month’s pay their most shared characteristic would be that they became better senior officers because of mistakes they made as junior officers.

If the Army ever forgets that, fails to underwrite honest mistakes or bows to external pressures and begins to treat a mistake as a kiss of death instead of a valuable teaching point, we are in trouble.

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MAJ. GEN. GUY S. MELOY, USA Ret., commanded four platoons, three companies, two battalions—one for six months as a major in Vietnam, the second for 12 months as a lieutenant colonel, also in Vietnam—and a brigade. He was an assistant division commander and commander of the 82nd Airborne Division.

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

Statement of Colonel Douglas Macgregor, PhD, USA (ret.)
Testifying before the House Armed Services Committee on July 15, 2004 in 2118 of the Rayburn House Office Building.

Army Transformation: Implications for the Future

Exerpt
Current Army transformation programs are not informed by the realities of modern combat or rigorous testing and experimentation. While it is gratifying to see interest in the concepts of rotational readiness and unit cohesion, the disastrous decision to keep American soldiers and units in Iraq for 12 months at a time reinforces my broader reservations about Army transformation. Today, our ground force is apparently exhausted and incapable of securing the stretch of road from downtown Baghdad to Iraq’s international airport. Thus, my greatest concern is that the current thrust of Army transformation may actually reduce the Army's fighting power and operational flexibility just as the international environment is placing greater demands on our ground forces.

I will begin by examining two of the fundamental assumptions that are distorting Army transformation. The first of these distortions arises from the belief that information can substitute for armored protection, firepower and off-road mobility.

Are there any articles on the use of 105's in Iraq. One would reckon it would be very effective fire support in Urban Terrain.

105mm howitzers?

Only the light forces use those...and the AC-130.

I don't agree with that last author. Re-enlistment is at an all time high since the end of the cold war, and i just read an article today quoting all kinds of troops in Iraq that morale is good, and they're proud of what they're doing over there.

Go figure.

Originally Posted by Praxus

Are there any articles on the use of 105's in Iraq. One would reckon it would be very effective fire support in Urban Terrain.

Go crazy.

Field Artillery Magazine

Originally Posted by M21Sniper

I don't agree with that last author. Re-enlistment is at an all time high since the end of the cold war, and i just read an article today quoting all kinds of troops in Iraq that morale is good, and they're proud of what they're doing over there.

Go figure.

Same problem with every army. In every deployment, you will find those who are having the times of their lives and those who are cryihg for mommy. What's important to me is whether those in theatre are willing to do their jobs or are waiting to crack. Do I want bad guys shooting at me all day, even when I sleep? No way in hell. Am I proud of serving my country against her enemues? You bet I am. Thus, you will find stats to support whatever view you want to push.

Most, whatever their feelings, are willing to do their jobs.

What's more important than retention is how do I get back the guys who left? You, M21, are a prime example. The USArmy obviously failed in getting back a perfect candidate for Sgt.

Thanx