Taxonomies of War: an Introduction

Debates among strategists or military professionals are often needless. Many frequently find themselves in pedantic and circular arguments that could be easily resolved if war studies had a clear and authoritative dictionary. Military professionals have doctrinal publications, but even these seem unfulfilling in many cases. At times, even doctrine fails to define crucial concepts.

This series of comments will attempt to set definitions for future writings in The Polemologist. Definitions must, first and foremost, be useful. They may be nuanced, but never unclear. While many readers may disagree with the contents, it is essential to remember that understanding someone’s definitions is critical to understanding their argument. The first comment (for no other reason than it is on the mind) focuses on one of the concepts mentioned above, for which doctrine has thus far failed to produce an adequate definition: Domains.

Domains

How is this controversial?

Domains did not used to be a controversial topic. Land was land, air was air, and information was just called propaganda. Recently, though, the West has attempted to redefine just about any concept as a domain. Most of those initiatives have failed, but terms like “the information domain” still occasionally haunt the halls of command posts and academic institutions. Such a ridiculous concept arose from the typical excitement about a hot topic, followed by several attempts at rebranding as Pentagon staffers grasped at whatever easy-to-understand buzzword came out of the academic community. Apparently, the terms “propaganda,” “psychological operations,” “information operations,” and “operations in the information environment” could not suffice, though it seems we have returned to information operations.

Because of strategic academia’s high buzzword volatility, I will attempt to plot my own course. Still, readers will hopefully find it uncontroversial.

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A short pseudo-history of domains

Someone has likely documented and analysed the history of the concept of domains, but that is unnecessary here. Perhaps it is something for another article. With even a cursory knowledge of history, we know that wars started on land and, eventually, someone invented a boat. As with all great inventions, seaborne vessels would sooner or later be co-opted for money and violence. This violence at sea organized into warfare. Experts learned that special considerations were necessary to run a Navy and, most importantly, destroy other navies. These considerations mainly came from the physical laws that govern the use of the sea. Mankind could not live at sea in perpetuity and thus had to return to port. Ships could not control the sea, only harness it. Movement became perpetual, meaning defenses had to look different than those of organized land forces. Dismounting was rarely an option, so ships needed to be sturdy and include basic life support, such as food and water stores. Ships required a lot of time, resources, and expertise to build, so sinking a single ship proved more significant than impaling a foot-soldier.

At some point in the 19th century, a bunch of Europeans tried to drop grenades from a hot air balloon. Shortly after, two brothers in North Carolina took flight, and someone thought about dropping a bomb from their new flying machine. Once again, thinking about war needed to shift because of the physical laws that govern the use of the air. Planes could not stay up long and thus had to return to land even more often than ships. Planes could not land at sea, but navies eventually solved this challenge. Interaction with land forces proved to be much more common than it was for navies, causing significant survivability problems for the planes. War in the air looked so vastly different than war at sea or on land that new principles and philosophies had to be developed to understand it.

Behind each of these domains, radios helped people talk. Norbert Wiener then coined the term “cybernetics” to describe “the science of control and communications in the animal and machine.” Humans once again needed to interact with a different set of physical laws to conduct war. Computers… internet… emails… viruses.

Somewhere in all that, the Soviets launched a dog into orbital space. It was unclear at the time whether that dog was armed. First used for espionage, space-based objects are now a critical function of modern economics (position, navigation, timing) and modern war (targeting, communications, etc.). While the space domain remains somewhat nascent compared to imagined realities of science fiction, war in and from space looks entirely different than any other domain.

Towards a definition of domains

Each of these five domains (land, sea, air, space, and cybernetics) has five criteria in common that together make up our definition of a domain:

1. Each domain has different physical laws that govern human interaction with it. These physical laws are significant enough to necessitate a different set of technologies, strategic or tactical principles, and philosophies for effective use in war.

2. Each domain originates and returns to mankind because war is a human endeavor.

3. Each domain may be used for economic or diplomatic purposes, not just military.

4. Each domain is unveiled through technological innovation. These technologies are the vessel through which mankind interacts with the domain. The more difficult it may be to access the domain, the more virtual or complex the vessel.

5. Each domain, and the virtual or physical vessel that mankind uses to interact with them, is observable.

Non-domains and sub-domains

With each of these criteria, let us explore for a moment what they omit. The first omission is that of “information.” This is instead included within cybernetics. Again, definitions are meant to be useful. Including information as a domain is not useful. In no way does separating information from cybernetics advance our understanding of how information is used for war. The physical laws that govern yelling, writing, or digitally transmitting information are all covered within other domains. The only exception to this would be if the human mind and its internal monologues became observable and interactive, but modern technology is far from such advancements.

The second omission is that of a sub-surface sea domain, where only some of our criteria are met. The technologies and tactical principles differ from those used in surface warfare, but do not necessitate an entirely different philosophy. Most of the widely accepted theories for the maritime (sea) domain can be easily applied to submarines. Within this construct, it may be considered a sub-category, as would sub-terrainian to the land domain, inter-planetary space to the space domain, or the electro-magnetic spectrum to cybernetics.

The future is Quantum

We have thus far avoided someone coining the term “Artificial Intelligence Domain,” and let us all be thankful for that. The next major human innovation, where the physical laws governing human interaction become significant enough to meet our criteria, is quantum physics. Quantum physics is so vastly different from classical physics that its mere conception has scientists questioning every basic assumption that has led to modern life. In the future, technological innovation may allow human interaction with quantum physics at scale. Perhaps the use of quantum-entangled particles may create exciting new ways to make money or kill each other. When humans do interact with the quantum world, it may very well meet our five criteria.

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Background

Within the US, the arms industry is both a monopsony and an oligopoly. It is a monopsony because the US Government controls all purchases of arms. Even if other client states are involved, the President of the US (POTUS) or Congress must approve the sale. It is an oligopoly because defense companies are relatively rare. The intensity of the industry, the high barrier of entry and cost of Research and Development (R&D), and issues of confidentiality lead to few suppliers.3 The complexity of arms manufacturing further strengthens the oligopoly, creating long-term contracts for maintenance, parts, or training, that lock in patron-client relationships for long periods.4 In other words, the marginal rate of substitution between weapons from different companies becomes significantly lower after the initial contract is fielded. It is much cheaper to continue repairing, operating, and refurbishing equipment in the same product line rather than switch products along with supply chains, training, etc. With this general structure of the DIB in mind, two major problems should be closely examined: the supply and demand problem and the division of labor problem.

The DIB faces a unique supply and demand problem because of the possibility of war. Like any free market industry, the DIB in peacetime seeks allocative efficiency. That is, defense companies seek to align production with the demands of the consumer (US government in this case) and their own. Companies produce “on demand.”5 In wartime, however, productive efficiency becomes the sole concern, as the survival of the state is at hand. War has the potential to drastically shift the demand curve immediately, but the supply curve will lag significantly behind until defense articles can be produced in greater number. In any other market, this might be unfortunate. In the case of war, it could be existentially catastrophic. The author calls this phenomenon the “wartime supply gap.”

The wartime supply gap reflects the drastic shift in the demand curve (D) between peacetime (D_☮) and wartime (D_W). The supply curve will not shift as immediately as the US government will require, however. The Δ between the quantity of defense articles available in peacetime (Q_☮) and the quantity of defense articles necessary in wartime (Q_W) is the wartime supply gap. D_W is an unknown curve and Q_W is an unknown variable. Thus, the objective of the US government is to shorten the wartime supply gap as much as possible, without knowing D_W or Q_W.

The second problem to examine is that of division of labor. While not entirely unique to the DIB, the growing complexity of defense articles and weapon systems means that the division of labor can be incredibly extensive. In citing a study conducted on a UK armored personnel carrier, one author noted there were about 200 first-level suppliers, who each used about 18 second-level suppliers, who each used about 7 third-level suppliers, who each used an average of 2-3 fourth-level suppliers.6 That’s about 63,000 nodal linkages from raw material to defense article. Some “second- and third-tier suppliers did not know that they were involved in defence [sic] work.”7 This is a prime example of what F. A. Hayek described as “a problem of the utilization of knowledge not given to anyone in its totality.”8 It stands that increases or decreases in arms production can have wide-spread unforeseen effects on the economy. It further stands that expediting production may induce significant compounded variable costs.

The US has handled the division of labor problem in the DIB in several ways. First, it has encouraged a significant consolidation of the defense industry through corporate mergers and acquisitions from 1980 to 2015. The most significant consolidation came after 1993, when the Secretary of Defense hosted the “Last Supper” to discuss the upcoming lack of defense procurement and the need of more serious defense efforts to save money.9 Second, it has widened the division of labor problem to garner support across several constituencies. Aircraft and ships have parts built in districts across the United States, ensuring that American voters are tied directly to the health of the DIB. To be fair, this mattered more when the DIB had a greater share of the US economy. However, one study proved that increased government spending in a district does indeed lead to more votes.10 This would imply that policymakers have strong incentives to favor more defense manufacturing in their constituencies. If DoD procurement budgets are low, the policymakers may favor the arms trade.

Final approval for arms transfers lies with POTUS, their delegated authorities, and Congress. Each entity has different incentives and disincentives, including campaign financing, votes, international pressure, and national interest. These decisionmakers receive input and feedback from the cabinet, the National Security Council, DoD, and State Department. The United States has several means to achieve arms transfers, which greatly complicates the data available. The most well-known form of transfer is Foreign Military Sales (FMS). In the FMS process, the US reaches an agreement with a client state to sell defense articles. The final sale is approved by POTUS, often delegated to the SECDEF and Secretary of State. Once the sale is agreed upon by patron and client, the DoD puts the order into its acquisitions process, usually meaning it negotiates a contract with the manufacturer.

For more rapid delivery, client states can access a database of Excess Defense Articles (EDA) and pay only for packing, crating, handling, and transportation. Should the client wish for more customization of their order or less DoD involvement, they may opt for Direct Commercial Sales (DCS). Contracts are negotiated directly between the client state and the manufacturer, but all contracts are subject to Presidential approval and congressional review. If the client cannot afford the purchase outright, the US has two options. First, it might offer Foreign Military Financing (FMF), which simply means a loan to the client state for the cost of the transfer. Another option is Building Partner Capacity (BPC), which essentially gifts the defense articles to the client. BPC programs are approved in the same manner as FMS, but must be specifically funded case-by-case.

The arms trade is not the only option for bolstering the DIB during low procurement years, but other methods rarely meet the same scale. For example, from 2008 to 2024, grants, tax cuts, and direct payments to defense companies ranged in summation for $4 Billion - $11 Billion. Compare this to $80.9 Billion in FMS, $157.5 Billion in DCS in FY23 alone. Open-source data on Prepositioned War Reserve Materiel (PWRM) is difficult to find, but these overseas stockpiles are unlikely to solve the wartime supply gap alone. In terms of military and financial value of materiel, arms sales are the strongest alternative for bolstering the DIB when compared to maintaining a large military.

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Methodology

This paper will use a positivist research design to evaluate the hypothesis through the use of descriptive statistics. These statistics will drive inductive reasoning in an attempt to find patterns of correlation between focus areas and enable triangulation of results into a conclusion. It is important to note that this paper does not assume intentionality. Whether these results are naturally occurring phenomena or intentional decisions by policymakers is the topic for another paper. Five tests will be triangulated to induce a greater explanation of the relationship between arms transfers and the DIB:

• Test #1: The majority of US Arms Exports ought to be built in the US as new equipment, especially in times of low DoD procurement.

• Test #2: Decreases in DoD procurement budgets should lead to increases in arms transfer deliveries of newly manufactured equipment.

• Test #3: Decreases in DoD procurement budgets should lead to increases in arms transfer orders of newly manufactured equipment.

• Test #4: Delivery timeliness of newly manufactured equipment should remain consistent despite decreases in DoD procurement budgets.

• Test #5: Industry productivity should remain consistent despite decreases in DoD procurement budgets.

To complete these tests, this paper will use several sources of data. First, it will use historical US budget tables for procurement on defense-related physical capital, published by the White House Office of Management and Budget and adjusted for inflation using the consumer price index published by the Federal Reserve Bank of Minneapolis.11 To assess the delivery, order, and timeliness of arms transfers, it will utilize the transfer register published by the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI). It will compare arms via the Trend Indicator Value used by SIPRI that represents the transfer of military resources. For tests 2-4, it will filter out any arms transfers of second-hand equipment, or equipment built locally in the client’s territory. Lastly, industry productivity will be measured via the Industrial Production Index (IPI) for Defense and Space equipment, as published by the Federal Reserve Economic Data (FRED).

Results

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Beginning with test #1, figure 2 shows that the majority of US arms exports are most certainly new equipment manufactured by US companies. Throughout most years, over 50% of exports hold true to this category. Interestingly, there seems to be a trailing negative correlation between DoD procurement budgets and the share of exports that are new equipment built in the US. For instance, DoD procurement budgets saw lows in 1975 and 1999, while US-built new equipment saw peaks in 1977 and 2001. Similarly, budgets were high in 1967 and 1986, and US-built new equipment saw lows in 1972 and 1990. The trailing effect seems to be between 2-5 years, which correlates well with the expected delivery times for arms shipments.

This suggests that the US DIB most certainly turns its attention to arms exports when DoD procurement is low. While this does not show the reasoning, one can assume that the US system either incentivizes such actions or dictates them, as the monopsonistic structure of US arms industry would allow for few other explanations.

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Moving to Tests 2 and 3, the 1970s are a prime example of each in the affirmative. DoD procurement budgets decreased steadily from 1968 to 1976, and arms transfer orders increased drastically. Referring back to figure 2, most of these orders would be fulfilled by new equipment. As DoD procurement budgets increased in the Reagan administration, orders and deliveries declined steadily. Decreasing budgets in the 1990s and 2010s saw a somewhat different pattern that still saw a net increase in arms transfers, albeit in shorter spurts. The 1990s budget decline seemed to be met with a single spike in arms transfer orders in 1992. The orders were varied among clients, platforms, and other factors. A similar pattern appeared in 2011.

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Interestingly, regarding test #4, the DoD procurement budget seems to have no effect on how quickly new arms are delivered to clients. The average delivery times consistently stay between 3 and 4 years. While possibly unintentional, this is still a net positive, as it means that the DIB remains consistent with its client contracts.

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More than any other factor, the DIB INDPROD seems to correlate with the DoD procurement budget. 1975 and 1998 show interesting patterns, where it seems as though the index will bottom-out, but seems to be saved by the increase in arms transfers for a short enough time to create a bulge at the bottom of the curve. Outside of these two years, however, the arms trade seems to have little effect on the index when compared to the correlation with DoD procurement budgets.

Conclusion

The results of tests #1-3 suggest that the US does in fact use the arms trade to bolster the DIB when DoD procurement budgets will not. The strong correlations show that when DoD procurement decreases, arms transfers increase. The ability to filter these tests to include just new equipment built by US companies is especially telling to the truth of the results. This level of fidelity enables us to ignore the deliveries of second-hand equipment and focus entirely on the transfers that directly affect the DIB.

Tests #4 and #5 attempt to measure the effectiveness of using the arms trade to bolster the DIB and the results seem less conclusive. They are a testament, however, to the scale of this discussion and in comparing arms sales to DoD procurement. The US military is a truly massive enterprise and the DIB is no exception. The highest level of arms exports found on these charts was in 2011. Kingdom of Saudi Arabia’s order of 121 F-15s made up nearly half of the total that year. This accounts for about one-third of the Kingdom’s current stock of Fighter / Ground-Attack Aircraft. It follows, then, that a contract to completely overhaul a third of a regional power’s air force will only produce less than 4% of the US stock of the same asset.16 The US is such a massive superpower compared to the other powers of the world that it would need to arm every major power beyond any reasonable level to maintain a constant industrial production index. So long as the US remains the pre-eminent superpower, it is unlikely that it will be able to meet true wartime demand while in peace.

To bring these findings together, it seems clear from the results that the US does, in fact, increase arms sales to bolster the defense industrial base in times of low DoD procurement. Again, this study does not cover intentionality. Yet, when procurement decreases, arms sales increase. However, arms sales alone are not enough to support the DIB completely. The US would essentially need to create another superpower via arms sales to maintain perfectly the level of production in the defense industry any time that DoD procurement dropped.

Organization

The post-World War II US Intelligence Community (IC) consisted of a shell of the former Office of Strategic Services (OSS) and disjointed military intelligence. It eventually grew to include the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA), the National Security Agency (NSA), the Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA), the National Reconnaissance Office (NRO), and included oversight from the National Security Council (NSC). Each formed to solve a different problem surrounding Cold War competition.

Due to the Soviet threat and the oncoming nuclear age, and despite heavy demobilization, US President Harry S. Truman felt it necessary to rebuild and reorganize. Intelligence was “the first line of defense in the atomic age.”1 The National Security Act of 1947 signed by Truman established the CIA “to correlate and evaluate intelligence relating to the national security,” but it had two significant issues.2 First, it included a catch-all clause that led to far-reaching justifications of covert action. The act also gave the CIA little authority, and the military services often refused to release their intelligence.3

With a hasty military mobilization into the Korean War, internal problems from demobilization crippled the IC. Before the formation of the DIA in 1961, the Unified and Specified Commands held sole responsibility for intelligence in their areas of responsibility.4 This structure failed when the United Nations forces under US command were caught entirely off-guard by China’s entrance into the war. As the Commander of the US Eighth Army put it, “We have lost, through neglect, disinterest and possibly jealousy, much of the effectiveness in intelligence work that we acquired so painfully in World War II.”5 Specifically, struggles with communications intelligence (COMINT) would lead to reorganizing the Armed Forces Security Agency into the NSA, which would grow to be one of the most successful US intelligence agencies of the Cold War.

Despite the additions of the DIA and NSA, the US still lacked solid intelligence on Soviet nuclear capabilities, as seen in the “Bomber Gap” and later the “Missile Gap” controversies. Imagery intelligence in the form of spy planes and satellites satiated this need. In 1962, the Secretary of Defense (SECDEF) established the NRO to manage national imagery intelligence (IMINT), manage Air Force satellite collections, and coordinate with the CIA to cut out several intermediaries. The Cuban Missile Crisis made it evident, however, that the NRO shirked much of its authority to the Joint Chiefs of Staff. It would be reorganized in 1964 and again in 1988 to solve problems of roles and responsibilities. The organizational issues above only compounded the IC’s Cold War challenges.

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Activities

The dynamic, high-stakes environment of the Cold War meant that competition took various forms, and so intelligence followed. There were three primary enduring outcomes in terms of US intelligence activities. First, several factors led to a heavy focus on technological means for collections. Second, covert action became a staple of the CIA. Third, intelligence sharing with allies against the Soviet Union grew while interagency coordination suffered.

A growing military-industrial complex, mixed with poor human intelligence (HUMINT) opportunities in the Soviet Union, led to a hyper-focus on technological means for collections. Soviet counterintelligence penetrated even the most mundane dissenters within its borders.6 Even in smaller authoritarian regimes, HUMINT fell to the purges of dictators like Manuel Noriega in Panama.7 Intelligence shortfalls plagued the US throughout the Cold War, including a failure to foresee the Soviet Union’s first nuclear detonation, overestimating Soviet bomber and missile capabilities, and missing the building of Soviet nuclear bases in Cuba until they were almost fully operational. Emerging technologies resolved each, providing everything from the seemingly mundane to the strategically indispensable. The U-2 spy plane disproved the “Bomber Gap” controversy. Electronics Intelligence (ELINT) collections from large antenna arrays and military flights provided a complete map of Soviet air defenses and command structure.8 NSA decrypts, cable-taps, and intercepts gave policymakers inside information on Soviet military capabilities, political decisions prior to nuclear arms negotiations, and countless nuclear intelligence.9 IMINT and signals intelligence (SIGINT) consistently outperformed HUMINT sources, in large part due to the Cold War environment. However, with the poor performance of HUMINT came a repurpose of the CIA.

Fear of total nuclear war, a perceived necessity of competition over the “third world,” and eventually war-weariness led to an extensive demand for measures short of war. The CIA provided the ideal mechanism for covert action from its onset. With several former members of the OSS within its ranks, many like Director of Central Intelligence Allen Dulles saw secret operations as inseparable from secret intelligence. It started, as did the Cold War, in Europe. Though CIA interference with Italian elections was relatively benign and probably unnecessary, it set a precedent. NSC 10/2 further established a means of maintaining “plausible deniability” in the White House.10 By the end of the Korean War, covert action dominated the CIA’s budget.11 Another Cold War context, the waning of former colonial powers, propelled the CIA to launch a coup in Iran in 1953. With success in its wake, the CIA turned to a coup in Guatemala to fight the influence of communism.12 These and many following operations could arguably fit within the “domino theory” philosophy of Cold War foreign policy. The invasion of Cuba in 1953, the plot to kill Cuban President Fidel Castro, the secret war in Laos, covert operations against Salvadore Allende in Chile, the Iran-Contra affair, and intervention in Afghanistan all took place to inhibit or reverse Soviet or communist influence.13 At least when it came to collections, however, the US was not alone in this cause.

The urgency of the Soviet threat and, simply, the geographical location of US allies created an opportunity for international intelligence cooperation on a grand scale. The UK-USA intelligence cooperation agreement started in 1948 and grew to include SIGINT organizations from all “Five Eyes” by 1956.14 Also known as “Echelon,” the anglosphere alliance allowed intercept stations all around the globe to coordinate collections aimed at the Soviet Union.15 Meanwhile, interagency cooperation suffered. Built on a culture of legal ambiguity and keeping undue secrets from other agencies, and justified by the high-stakes of the Cold War, the CIA’s relationship with the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) suffered.16 Since the FBI held responsibility for counterintelligence, high-profile double agents like Aldrich Ames operated unimpeded.17

Conclusion

The IC started the Cold War without the requisite experience and structure necessary to handle its intended scale. The urgency of the Soviet nuclear and ideological threats drove its rapid growth. When that threat did not elicit proper attention, war with communist nations did. However, the IC lacked a clear and consistent vision. The CIA was supposed to coordinate all national means of intelligence, but most collections assets fell under a single separate authority, the SECDEF. It took several decades to clearly delineate the responsibilities of each agency and establish procedures for interagency coordination. The nature of Cold War economic competition, a growing military-industrial complex, and the difficulty of gaining HUMINT in an authoritarian regime like the Soviet Union drove a heavy reliance on technology for intelligence collections. The rapid change in technology, in turn, required several organizational and process changes. Looming behind all of this was the fear of full-scale war. Later, “Vietnam Syndrome” suppressed the American public’s desire for any war. Hence, the CIA embraced covert action as a measure to provide “plausible deniability.” While much of the above led to improvements in the IC, it never adequately addressed the issues of coordination and authority. As such, disaster struck only nine years after the fall of the Soviet Union on September 11th, 2001.

First, an important note. I was a highly imperfect commander. Whenever people reflect on their past in writing, it can come off as sanctimonious and trite. That is not my intent. Rather, I hope that anyone who reads this can start off on the shoulders of my mistakes.

My experience

Click here to skip this section if you are uninterested. None of the following sections will reference it without explanation. It is a necessary “appeal to accomplishment” that I write only because it is customary in this sort of article and may provide insight to some readers.

I have spent a cumulative 39 months in Battery Command, either acting or serving. I’ve served as Battery Commander under four Battalion Commanders and four O-6 (Colonel) Commanders. I’ve had as many as 274 service members under my command and as few as 50. I have commanded rocket artillery, cannon artillery, radars, and a headquarters unit. As such, I felt writing this series of letters was prudent for future and aspiring Battery Commanders.

I started acting as Battery Commander at the age of 27 at Headquarters Battery, 5th Battalion, 10th Marines. I was not supposed to take full command, but I did so when some personnel changes made it necessary (I was the B-team). I took Command on April 4th, 2018, and kept it until I left the unit in July 2018. I acted or served as Headquarters Battery Commander for five months.

In September 2021, I took command of Battery S, 2nd Battalion, 10th Marines. The Battery with a 5th battalion moniker had not existed since deactivating in 2012, and I would be the first to assume command since. It was to be a rocket artillery battery (later called a medium missile battery) with the M142 High Mobility Artillery Rocket System (HIMARS) as its centerpiece. When I “took the guidon,” the battery had less than 60 people, some radios, and some trucks (no HIMARS launchers). We received the first launcher and immediately began training to gain full operational capability. Upon certifying our first fully operationally capable platoon, we had an abrupt change in mission.

Battery S was to be a composite artillery battery with howitzers, rocket artillery launchers, and counterbattery radar. We joined a combined-arms unit called a Marine Expeditionary Unit (MEU) to deploy overseas. So the battery formed anew, working through challenges of training, materiel, and personnel. Greatest of all was the ever-difficult challenge of change. Our forming was officially complete with the passing of a combat readiness evaluation nearly one year after I first took command.

We officially joined the MEU shortly after. Thus followed a grueling pre-deployment training program typical of MEUs. Despite many challenges and a year and a half of high-tempo training, the Marines and Sailors succeeded. We then deployed overseas, conducting exercises across Europe and planning crisis response options in the Middle East. We split our battery across Combatant Commands, creating significant challenges for command and control while allowing flexibility in the battery's employment. We returned after 8 months, and I relinquished command after 977 days with Battery S.

Important questions every Commander must answer

I was lucky enough to experience the gambit. A headquarters battery, a rocket battery, and a composite rocket-cannon battery with organic radars. As time passed, I asked myself many questions. Below are the most important ones.

What are the expectations of your senior commander, of your peers, and of your subordinates?

You must answer to a higher authority than your own. This is a cold reality check for some and an obvious, banal claim for others. The nature of command is such that you will always have a senior commander. Everything you do must support them. Such is the nature of command. If their expectations are unclear, you owe it to those under your charge to seek clarity. The continuity of command depends on it.

Your relationship with your peers matters as well. Together with your adjacent commanders and the staff that support, you build the battalion. Build consensus on tackling your challenges and provide a united front on as many matters as possible.

Ask your subordinates about their expectations of you. These will likely be based on their experiences with former commanders, good or bad. However, this insight can be invaluable to generating your subordinates’ buy-in to your plans or vision. It can also give you the tough reality check you need from time to time.

What is your vision?

Defining a vision can be very difficult. Start with a mission statement. Normally, these are given to us by doctrine, policy, or higher headquarters. I built mine unique to the composite battery but kept it based on doctrine.

From there, identify and clearly define the essential tasks to achieving that mission. Again, many of these are typically given by outside sources. The US has Training and Readiness Manuals and Mission Essential Task Lists. However, minimum standards should rarely be the end-all-be-all. Do not omit basic standards, but if a task or qualifier is missing, add it. These tasks should deeply consider the possible battlefield scenarios where your battery may be employed, the adversary it might face, and the emerging threats of modern warfare.

Lastly, create an endstate. You will never achieve perfection, but you should imagine it. What characteristics do you want your unit to exhibit? How do these characteristics relate to your mission, and how do your essential tasks get you there?

How do you intend to accomplish your vision?

Conceptual plans and vague orders demanding excellence are not enough to effectively command. Battery Commanders have a limited cadre of experienced officers under their charge. As such, Battery Commanders cannot disavow themselves of the details. You must have a plan to guide your unit in accomplishing your vision. How you create it is entirely up to you.

Typically, the most experienced people are the senior enlisted leaders of the battery. Convincing them of the value of your vision is the most important step to its accomplishment. They are the ones who train the mass of the battery and have the most intimate interactions with the Marines or soldiers.

How do you evaluate tactics?

You will learn how to manage maintenance and personnel readiness. Higher headquarters always closely monitor these matters, and metrics will be thoroughly defined for you as they should be. The chief intangible metric will always be tactical proficiency.

Training and readiness standards will tell you how fast your unit can conduct a certain battle drill, lay the battery, or process and execute a fire mission. This is a good start, but the minute a thinking, acting enemy enters the scenario, the game changes.

The entire existence of a professional military organization, especially an artillery battery, is based on the presence of a possible adversary. Yet, in training, simulating that enemy can be difficult. Battery commanders must educate themselves in modern warfare and possess a deep understanding of potential adversaries. The commander's imagination, built from diligent study of modern battles, best facilitates effective scenarios. Deciding what enemy you are fighting is the first step to evaluating tactics.

It is okay to over-imagine scenarios, but you must provide clarity as the commander. The clarity lies in this: the best units have subordinates who can read the context of the battlefield and make informed decisions on survivability, lethality, and logistics. A Section Chief who understands the air and ground threat and the ebb and flow of fires will know when to hide their section and when to ready it for rapid displacement. A Platoon Sergeant who knows when and where to flow ammunition via cache sites or large hubs and how that affects fires or survivability will feed the battery's firing capability more effectively. Artillerists on the modern battlefield must be able to read the context of orders and intelligence updates to make decisions and act on them effectively. In short, units that can properly execute a battle drill on time are okay, but units that know which ones to choose and when to do so are excellent.

Who do you command through?

Every commander must decide who they command through. Commanding through someone comes in three forms: solving problems with them, giving orders to them, and receiving feedback from them. Some prefer to seek input from and solve problems with their staff, come to a decision, and disseminate those decisions or intent to subordinate commanders. Some prefer to solve problems with their subordinate commanders and then task their staff to support them. Others might even command through smaller units, such as an Infantry Company Commander commanding through squad leaders or a Battalion Commander commanding through platoon leaders. Increasingly common in the information age is the attempt to command through everyone: “fast, flat communication.”

Who you command through depends on many things. It depends on the temporary task organization or your unit's permanent form. It depends on your tactical mission and the proximity of your force to you. It depends on the specific talents of your staff and subordinates alike.

Above all, consider the most effective method to accomplish the mission and maintain survivability, logistics, and communications. Second, consider the ability of your unit to survive your removal. If your command center is destroyed or meetings with higher headquarters simply suppress you, you must ensure your battery can act without you. Third, consider the development of your subordinates. As a commander, you owe it to your subordinate leaders to give and receive feedback and coach and mentor them into your vision. Be wary of choosing one sole method. If you solve problems solely with your staff or senior enlisted advisors, you may ostracise your subordinate commanders and vice-versa. If you only ever receive feedback from one group, you risk a singular narrative and the effects of group-think taking control of your unit.

These questions are just as important in an artillery battery as any command. Modern artillery tactics often require the rapid task organization of a unit, ever-changing support relationships, and wide dispersion of forces. How to command those forces must be thought out deliberately and constantly re-assessed.

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How do you receive feedback?

This question has a double meaning. First, as mentioned above, consider what methods you have to receive feedback on your unit's progress. Your choices here will determine how often and how honest that feedback is.

Second, receive negative feedback with grace. Do not allow insubordination or anything that will compromise command, but do allow honest and constructive input from your subordinates. Remember that feeling in command is not the same as commanding. Many commanders allow their subordinates to placate their egos so that they feel in charge, but secretly, their subordinates follow orders half-heartedly or twist narratives to their favor. Receiving honest feedback from across your entire force is critical in discovering how your subordinates think and act, allowing you to employ them better.

What is trust, and to whom do you give it?

You must own every mistake your team makes. This is not because anyone expects you to have complete and unimpeded control of everything. That line of thinking drives many to micromanage and overcommit their mental abilities. Rather, it is because you are in command — you choose who does what, with what level of supervision, and with what safeguards. You decide not just who you trust but what exactly you trust them with and how far.

We have a much better understanding of what distrust feels like than we do what trust is. Trust is both relative and categorical. It is relative in the sense that there are levels of trust in different situations or relationships, and it falls along a wide spectrum. It is categorical in that you may trust someone’s character deeply, but you may not trust their skill, experience, or education level. This is often the case with junior officers, for example. They have been heavily vetted for their character and willingness to strive for excellence but require training and supervision. Every worthwhile subordinate wishes to be given complete autonomy over a problem or function, but every subordinate also needs guidance, coaching, or experience on problems and functions (this includes you as a subordinate to your senior commander).

Never give autonomy to those whose character you do not trust. Give autonomy to those with strong character. Protect them by safeguarding or supervising areas where they lack experience or education. Always coach and mentor. Coaching and mentorship differ from chastising and corrections, which are almost always negative. Frame your words like a coach does: “Next time you see x, do y.” This positive framing is more likely to gain favor and build trust between you and your subordinates.

Tensions Inherent to Command

• Try to be beyond reproach, but do not act like you are beyond reproach.

• Have high expectations, but be thankful for the process and achievements.

• Set precedent, but do not be bound by it.

• Balance benevolence and strictness carefully in your punishment and reward. Mentally prepare for moments where you will use your legal or disciplinary power to ensure that you make the right choice. You will need to find a middle ground between being overly benevolent and overly strict. It will not be easy, but the feeling of power will likely drive you too far to one side if you do not prepare for it.

• Know that your words and actions have a great influence on people, but do not overstate your ability to change people.

• The fox and the Hedgehog.

The Fox and the Hedgehog

I read John Lewis Gaddis’ On Grand Strategy much too late in my career. This is the most important lesson I could have had when I first took command:

Archilochus, an ancient Greek poet, once wrote, “the fox knows many things, but the hedgehog knows one big thing.” Xerxes, when deciding to cross the Hellespont into Greece, saw one big thing. He envisioned conquering the Western world and expanding his rule as a God-king. Artabanus, his advisor, knew many things. He saw the rough canalizing terrain, the sparse crops that couldn’t feed the army, the lack of a route to retreat, and the dangers that lie ahead for the Navy. Artabanus was sent back home to govern the domestic affairs of the Empire. Xerxes led his army to ruin. F. Scott Fitzgerald described first-class intelligence as the ability to have two completely opposing ideas and still maintain the ability to function. As a leader, you must be both the fox and the hedgehog. You must have a vision that acts as your compass. But you must also have a map, an understanding of context and circumstance that guides you around the obstacles that will come your way. Solve problems with both short-term and long-term solutions. Find the right timing to act and do not let others rush you to decision.

Imperative skills of a commander

• To write and speak orders with clarity that cannot be misunderstood or misinterpreted.

• To read, select, and employ in advantageous terrain and battlefield contexts.

• To task-organize for efficiency and flexibility.

• To maintain a vision and purpose while navigating everyday challenges (the fox and the hedgehog).

• To read people and place them where they will thrive. Mix personalities for best effectiveness.

• Inspire others to buy into your vision.

Some general principles

• Always act in good faith.

• Focus your team's education on tactics. You are the senior expert in this matter, and they need your insight to best accomplish your vision.

• Listen to learn, learn to help, help to lead. I am forever indebted to LtCol Christopher Siekman for this one.

• Always come with a plan, but be ready to adapt it.

• Over-communicate! No one knows the good things your Marines do if you don’t tell people. No one can push support if they don’t know you need it.

• It’s not the meeting that matters but the work put into it. But make sure your meetings are organized. Have an agenda, clear inputs, and clear outputs.

• Battery leadership is tricky as you know. Don’t get so lost on the internal that you lose sight of where you’re driving the unit. Don’t get so focused on the external that you lose sight of your capabilities and limitations. Artillerymen do it all.

• Find your team. As conventional forces, we have little influence on who we get on our team. But you can always find ways to identify and empower talent within your organization. This will make you effective.

• Once given Command, your word is quite literally law in the United States. Learn those laws well.

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Yet, these approaches seem to miss the mark when applied to warfare. The examples are many: Net-Centric Warfare (NCW), Effects-Based Operation (EBO), and the Counterterrorism Analytical Framework (CTAF) just to name a few failed initiatives. When General James Mattis addressed EBO within the Joint Force, he rightfully stated:

Elements of [Operational Net Assessment and System of Systems Approaches] have proven useful in addressing “closed systems” such as targeting, where their effects can be measured per the US Air Force’s deliberate analysis and targeting methods. However, the concepts have been misapplied by others to operations beyond their original intent, resulting in overextension and confusion.

Their allure to “operations beyond their original intent” remains, however. NCW highlighted the irrefutably observable existence of nodes and linkages in military systems. EBO created measurable and observable metrics for warfare, if only in theory. CTAF applied these approaches to insurgent and terrorist organizations. The vernacular of these theories remain common in western doctrine, including “measures of effectiveness,” “measures of performance,” “adversary systems,” and so on. Nonetheless, these theories all fail to live up to their promise of identifying clear military objectives that, once achieved, will collapse an enemy system. They fail because they forget the fundamental nature of war as it is fought by humans.

Constellations and Mosaics?

One possibility of looking at these nodes and linkages could be found in the metaphor of constellations, but this has some weaknesses. Asterisms are clusters of stars that the viewer, from their particular point of view in space, attributes meaning to. Asterism is also the namesake of the ⁂, a favorite typographical symbol meaning — quite aptly for this discussion — “conclusion.” Constellations take asterisms and assign meaning to them through perceived linkages. While the western world has a widely accepted perception of observable constellations, both the asterism and the constellation are dependent on the perception of the viewer. If one star dies or is blocked from view, the constellation changes. If a new star is formed or is unblocked from view, the constellation changes. The viewers experiences and worldview affect the meaning of the constellation as well. If the viewer is more predisposed to see four-legged animals as cats over dogs, the viewer will more likely impose that meaning onto it. Since constellations exist in three dimensional space, the perception of the same asterism changes when the perspective of the viewer changes.

This metaphor does have some applicability for assessing nodes and linkages in war. The adversary exists in three dimensions and should be seen from as many perspectives as possible to gain a full understanding of their nodes. The linkages are often assumed by the opposite belligerent, and these assumptions can be validated through sound intelligence. Once enough linkages form, the perceiver begins to form a picture. This picture becomes the assessment of the adversary’s structure and from there the perceiver can form assumptions on the adversary’s intentions, strengths, and weaknesses. As new elements are found, lost, introduced to the battle, or destroyed, the perception of the adversary constellation changes. Since it is centered on perception, one could use this metaphor to generate many theories about tactical deception and apply it to Sun Tzu’s axioms of showing strength where one is weak and vice versa.

The Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA) and Research and Development Corporation (RAND) have been developing the concept of “Mosaic Warfare.” Named “after the analogy of creating a complex image from many small, simple pieces…”

Mosaic warfare can be defined as the degree to which a player can quantize their resources, and it relies on fractionation of capabilities from large multicapability platforms onto multiple smaller ones, the ability to employ heterogeneous mixes of capabilities throughout a battlespace, and the ability to rapidly compose a set of needed capabilities in a time and place to accomplish a mission.

These ideas need work. Taglines matter in how a theory is perceived, implemented, or expounded on.1 The constellation metaphor falls short because it depicts a static series of nodes that only change once every hundred million years or so. As such, it would apply best to positional styles of warfare and lack the human element of adaptability we seek to reconcile. Further, it is centered around perceptions above physical realities. It might run the danger of embracing of justifying shallow perceptions of the adversary and create significant blind spots in application.

⁂ Thinking of nodes and linkages as an “organic nexus”

organic. adjective. or·​gan·​ic. ȯr-ˈga-nik: having the characteristics of an organism : developing in the manner of a living plant or animal

nexus. noun. nex·​us. ˈnek-səs: a connected group or series

Modern militaries and insurgent groups most certainly maintain a long list of nodes that are interconnected to create a system. But they differ from the conventional idea of systems significantly. Their nodes and links change. Survival of both the nodes and the entire system is contingent on their ability to adapt to their environment and adversary, so they do so quickly and to great effect.

Belligerents in war, from the political level to the low-tactical level, are adaptable entities akin to organisms, either symbiotic or unitary in their structures. They change their organization mid-battle. They adapt their communications structures and networks. They repurpose, re-organize, and replace their parts for the sake of the whole. They consume supply and generate waste. The question to ask, then, is not how to collapse a system but rather how to kill a living thing.

Metaphors in this context abound. Armadillos are slow and harmless creatures with strong physical defenses. The axolotl can regenerate severed limbs. When in a rut, the moose has neck muscles that grow twice their size due to engorgement and expansion. In that same vein, each belligerent is different. Some regenerate combat power at a much faster rate. Some are much more able to hide and disguise themselves. Some are more nocturnal than others, while others do better in the rain, sleet, or snow. Some consume large quantities of supply while others can subsist on very little. Each must be assessed not just in how its nodes link together and how they interact in a snapshot of time, but how they interact with external and internal change.

There is an inherent difference in what militaries value between peacetime and war. This difference stems from the subjective measurements of war preparedness. The military officer must prepare their force and their mind for not just for war but a war that has yet to exist. That is to say, a war that currently exists only in their imagination. Predicting the future of warfare can be a dangerous game that often goes wrong. As such, peacetime militaries gravitate towards tangible metrics to judge the war readiness of their units. Nevertheless, failing to look to the future may leave a military behind in terms of technological and tactical advantage. This feature creates a tension between the skills of a successful peacetime commander and a great wartime commander.

In his book On Grand Strategy, John Lewis Gaddis invoked the analogy of the fox (who knows many things) and the hedgehog (who knows one big thing). He argues that it is best to be both. That is, leaders should understand deeply both their potentially infinite aspirations and their limited capabilities. To put it in the context of this article, military commanders must be imaginative in their operational and tactical concepts but remain grounded in the realities that face them from within and outside their force.

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The challenges of preparing for the future

Due to the nature of command, the only imagination of future war that matters in peacetime is that of the senior commander. Again, accurate predictions of the future are incredibly difficult. Yet, the commander has a vital role as their subordinates’ mentor, coach, and teacher. They must impart their tactical understandings onto their unit and train their unit for the war they imagine. Disagreements on the adversary and how to employ forces default to the commander, and they might admonish and discourage those who view the future differently. As such, they may create an echo chamber, for better or worse. If the more obstinate subordinates openly question the wisdom of a senior commander, they risk dissension in the ranks and eroding the confidence of troops in the unit’s leadership. Whether or not the subordinate’s idea is superior, this affront to the chain of command degrades the morale of the entire unit.

In extreme cases, an institutional refusal to accept any thought other than the “party line” can force out officers of great talent needed to fight the next war. However, militaries cannot accept just any idea as valuable. That could encourage a disjointed approach full of antiquated or unrealistic tactics designed for failure.

Some metrics transcend this concept, and modern militaries tend to gravitate toward them. Materiel readiness, strategic mobility, and medical and physical readiness of personnel all turn into the mark of a great commander in peacetime. But each of these metrics does better to measure a unit’s managerial prowess than combat ability. This facet might enable the advancement of the best business people rather than the best commanders for combat. Further, even these metrics can be imperfect. Subordinates may “cook the books” to look good or to simply survive in their current position. In such instances, superiors may believe a unit to be in a fine state of combat readiness when they really are in disarray. The lackluster readiness of the Russian Ground Forces serves as a prime example. Seemingly ignorant of the fact, General Valery Gerasimov assured senior leaders that the capabilities of the Russian Military would win the day in the Ukraine offensive. Some analysts claim Russian officers heavily misreported materiel readiness and had been since the Soviet era.

Other metrics like training standards also tend to be highly problematic at higher echelons. They might either be overly prescriptive or too subjective. Finding a balance is difficult. Indeed, individual technical skills and crew-level drills lend themselves to objective qualitative measurement. Gunnery, marksmanship, navigation, radio handling, and driving are all tangible skills that can be run through courses and judged on time and performance. Still, once the task of defeating an adversary enters the metric at any level, imaginations get involved. This challenge is difficult to overcome even with modern simulations or “paints” built into training. One option is to create highly detailed “step-action” checklists, but such a technique removes a commander’s ability to react to a thinking enemy or to think creatively in combat. The disaster of France’s bataille conduit — where highly centralized command and control led to several tactical failures early in the Second World War — should be enough warning to stray away from such methods.

The need for imagination

So what are modern militaries to do? How do they build a military ready for the next war? While many other factors are in play, one often overlooked quality in military leaders is that of imagination.

Imagination enables commanders to think about — and therefore prepare for — more than one type of war. Modern commanders must consider the realities of counterinsurgencies and large-scale combat, urban and rural battles, maneuver, firepower, and positional warfare. War takes many forms. Further, the grand majority of predictions about future war are wrong. Partly, this is by nature. One belligerent’s war preparation is another belligerent’s threat, and so we end up with a meeting engagement of ideas, each adapting to the other before the war even starts. Just the same, commanders should wish away their problems and shortfalls in hopes that they will be cared for by the benevolent institution they serve. “In war, it will be different,” I might be thinking too, hopefully. Resources are limited. Militaries must choose carefully where to invest and how to train in peacetime, just as they must in war. So, the realities of resources must temper imaginations.

Imagination allows commanders to think about risks that may not yet be known. Threats today adapt faster than ever. Emerging technologies generate widespread use of electromagnetic attacks and innovative new forms of physical destruction. Capabilities meet countermeasures, which are countered in turn through more innovation. The global arms trade is alive and well, proliferating threats that deny superiority to stronger nations. Imagination, then, must also be tempered by a sense of pessimism.

Imagination can, however, carry commanders away to distant realities. The French bataille conduit, mentioned earlier, made the critical mistake of assuming commanders would have more control over a developing battle than they ever could. Since then, firepower theories have made the same assumption, including the once-defunct US theory of effects-based operations. The idea is an attractive devil. Increasing capabilities to sense and strike targets with real-time command and control incite a natural human tendency of commanders to want immediate feedback. Unfortunately, it remains the adversary’s interest to actively disrupt such feedback, and the fog of war lives on as a fundamental nature of human conflict. As such, a clear understanding of the nature of war in theory and practice must also temper imagination. 

***

This trait, of course, is not the end-all-be-all. Yet, it is a highly underappreciated quality in militaries. Armed forces value uniformity, obedience to orders, and routine. These traits are opposites to imagination. So, military professionals must pull imaginative and creative young leaders up in their organization. They should be educated in the realities of war, the risk decisions commanders make, and the nature of war in theory and in practice. This education should encourage their creativity and stoke their tactical imaginations. This is easier said than done, as every force must also learn the basics of their craft. That is the difference between training to tactics and training to techniques or procedures, which will be the topic of a future post.

Your platoon is supporting the Battalion Landing Team’s defense of Geisa, where a Motorized Company (Reinforced) intends to rupture the US defense and push on to Fulda, 12 km south of Hunfeld. Reports over the last week include enemy reconnaissance (6km SE of PAA 2) and Special Operations Forces (SOF) interrogating locals (5 km NE of PAA 2). The SOF elements are suspected of having demolitions and sabotage equipment, as well as possible improvised explosive device materials. Enemy artillery consists of a 2S19 Battery that has been known to fire cluster munitions. The enemy has a Pork Trough-2 Counterbattery Radar, but always verifies counterbattery tracks with Unmanned Aerial Systems prior to counterfire. The local populace is mostly friendly to the US cause.

You received a movement order to Position Area of Artillery (PAA) 2 with an Azimuth of Fire of 1600 in order to meet a two-gun Time on Target (TOT) 90 minutes from now. You and the rest of the Advanced Party have just entered PAA 2 from the South and the rest of your platoon is 30 minutes behind you.

Within the next 15 minutes, write/draw out your occupation plan and local security plan. Include all relevant unit locations, tactical control measures, and priorities of work.

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Learning Points

Mission oriented: Could your plan feasibly lay the battery in time to meet the TOT? Are you defending an engagement area or preparing to protect your assets and break contact?

Threat driven: What drove your decisions? What threats were you most concerned about?

All arms of artillery: How do meteorology, survey, communications, motor transport, and ammunition fit into your plan?

Task Organization: Does your emplacement plan require you to change the way you Task Organize the platoon?

Survivability Factors (J.B.A. Bailey, Chapter 12)

Equipment mobility. How stuck in the terrain are you? Do you have an egress route? Have you sacrificed mobility for physical protection? Was the that deliberate?

Frequency of movement. What are your triggers to move? Do you have a rally point or alternate position planned?

Protection

Dispersion. What threat is your dispersion based on? Is it feasible with our equipment capabilities?

Natural protection. How well do you use terrain to your advantage?

Artificial protection. Are deliberate/hasty construction built into your priorities of work? How well do you use the armor of your vehicles?

Self defense. Where did you choose to focus and where did you accept risk? Are the routes into and out of the position covered? Have you built depth with LP/OPs?

Deception

Fire Control. Did you plan to move after your TOT? Did you consider a roving gun or an offset registration for future defensive fires?

Visual betrayal. Did you mask your launchers with terrain? How do you quickly move away from a smoke trail after firing? Did you mask your force from the local populace?

Electromagnetic Spectrum. How does the need for command and control balance with EM signature management? How can you mitigate it? How much wire would you need to run to the guns?

Camouflage. Did you use the wooded areas?

Other Tactical Fundamentals

Fundamentals of the Defense                                          Principles of MG Employment
-Knowledge of the enemy                                          -Pairs
-Maneuver                                                                    -Interlocking Fires
-Preparation: Hasty and Deliberate                         -Coordination of Fires                             
-Use of Terrain                                                            -Mutual Support
-Surprise                                                                       -Defilade
-Mass and Concentration                                          -Enfilade                   
-Flexibility                                                                    -Economy
-Offensive Action                                                        -Protection    
-Mutual Support                                          
-Defense in Depth                                          

Your platoon is supporting the Battalion Landing Team’s defense of Geisa, where a Motorized Company (Reinforced) intends to rupture the US defense and push on to Fulda, 12 km south of Hunfeld. Reports over the last week include EN recon (5 km E of PAA 1) and Special Operations Forces (SOF) interrogating locals (5 km S of PAA 1). The SOF elements are suspected of having demolitions and sabotage equipment, as well as possible Improvised Explosive Device materials. Enemy artillery consists of a 2S19 Battery that has been known to fire cluster munitions. The enemy also has a Pork Trough-2 Counterbattery Radar, but always verifies its targeting data with Unmanned Aerial Systems prior to counterfire. The local populace is mostly friendly to the US cause.

You received a movement order to Position Area of Artillery (PAA) 1 with an Azimuth of Fire of 1600 in order to meet a two-launcher Time on Target (TOT) mission, 90 minutes from now. You and the rest of the Advanced Party have just entered PAA 1 from the South and the rest of your platoon is 30 minutes behind you.

Within the next 15 minutes, write/draw out your occupation plan and local security plan. Include all relevant unit locations, tactical control measures, and priorities of work.

Scroll down for learning points

Subscribe now

-

-

-

-

-

-

Learning Points

Mission oriented: Could your plan feasibly lay the battery in time to meet the TOT? Are you defending an engagement area or preparing to protect your assets and break contact?

Threat driven: What drove your decisions? What threats were you most concerned about?

All arms of artillery: How do meteorology, survey, communications, motor transport, and ammunition fit into your plan?

Task Organization: Does your emplacement plan require you to change the way you Task Organize the platoon?

Survivability Factors (J.B.A. Bailey, Chapter 12)

Equipment mobility. How stuck in the terrain are you? Do you have an egress route? Have you sacrificed mobility for physical protection? Was the that deliberate?

Frequency of movement. What are your triggers to move? Do you have a rally point or alternate position planned?

Protection

Dispersion. What threat is your dispersion based on? Is it feasible with our equipment capabilities?

Natural protection. How well do you use terrain to your advantage?

Artificial protection. Are deliberate/hasty construction built into your priorities of work? How well do you use the armor of your vehicles?

Self defense. Where did you choose to focus and where did you accept risk? Are the routes into and out of the position covered? Have you built depth with LP/OPs?

Deception

Fire Control. Did you plan to move after your TOT? Did you consider a roving gun or an offset registration?

Visual betrayal. Did you mask your launchers with terrain? How do you quickly move away from a smoke trail after firing? Did you mask your force from the local populace?

Electromagnetic Spectrum. How does the need for command and control balance with EM signature management? How can you mitigate it?

Camouflage. Did you use the wooded areas?

Other Tactical Fundamentals

Fundamentals of the Defense                                          Principles of MG Employment
-Knowledge of the enemy                                          -Pairs
-Maneuver                                                                    -Interlocking Fires
-Preparation: Hasty and Deliberate                         -Coordination of Fires                             
-Use of Terrain                                                            -Mutual Support
-Surprise                                                                       -Defilade
-Mass and Concentration                                          -Enfilade                   
-Flexibility                                                                    -Economy
-Offensive Action                                                        -Protection    
-Mutual Support                                          
-Defense in Depth                                          

Artillery training in peacetime has all too often proved inadequate in war, for two reasons: the difficulty of demonstrating or simulating firepower on a realistic scale, and the inclination of gunners to neglect tactical aspects and to concentrate on introverted technical aspect of their profession.

-Major General J. B. A. Bailey, Field Artillery and Firepower (2nd Ed), Chapter Six

This quote is especially gripping to anyone who has spent time in the Field Artillery. There are large online repositories of TDGs, but I have seldom found any that develop the tactical thought of artillerymen specifically. There are TDGs involving artillery units, but they are convoy scenarios, patrolling scenarios, et cetera. We are developing these artillery-centric TDGs in hopes to enable the tactical education of artillerymen around the world.

We begin with the fundamentals of Reconnaissance, Selection, and Occupation of Position (RSOP). This critical skill of an artillery platoon or battery is often overlooked in training, or white-washed by local range regulations. Each TDG includes talking points at the end to help guide discussions and encourage tactical thought.

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Artillery TDG #1: RSOP Fundamentals for HIMARS

Artillery TDG #2: RSOP Fundamentals for Towed Artillery

The Council is built to survive political realities and adapt to modern challenges. As such, it remains the best option to be international law’s sole competent authority on the use of force. Its reliability is relative to the chaos of politics and must be considered within the context of the UN’s raison d’etre: avoiding a third world war.1 Its founders built flexibility and political survivability into the system, each necessary

“to save succeeding generations from the scourge of war, which twice in our lifetime has brought untold sorrow to mankind, and… to establish conditions under which justice and respect for the obligations arising from treaties and other sources of international law can be maintained…”

-Preamble to the UN Charter

Internally, the Council often struggles with timeliness and effectiveness in making and enforcing decisions. Externally, modern strategies of grey-zone, cyber, and proxy warfare all seek to undermine the authority of the Council’s Chapter VII responsibilities. Nonetheless, no distinct alternative would satiate its critic’s chief complaints. It remains the best option because the foundational basis of its authority respects the nature of politics through power of discretion and options like the veto.

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Viva la veto

The Council’s primary challenge to its authority, the veto, is critical to its functioning. This tool creates susceptibility to great power politics that ensures its survival in political reality. The Permanent Five (P5) members of the Council hold Article 27 veto authority for any resolution under consideration. The veto often deadlocks the Council: the P5 invoked the veto on 162 separate occasions throughout the Cold War, not including threats and other measures prior to voting. As the sole competent authority on the use of force, idealists would wish the Council to be an infallible monolith, holding States accountable to a common ethic.

This line of thinking ignores the reality of international politics and undermines the value of the Council within such context. The P5 also happens to include the world’s regional hegemons, the United States, the Russian Federation, and the People’s Republic of China. Without veto ability, any of them might withdraw and take their allies, as Germany did with the League of Nations in 1933 while preparing to wreak havoc on the international system and wage war on the world.

The veto allows the conversation to continue in a forum for politics. It keeps the organization relevant in the face of great power competition and vents the pressure that would otherwise manifest in more dangerous forms. Idealists would wish for strict adherence to international law in every case, making the Council akin to a county courthouse. Such a structure would never last in the face of power politics. The structure of international law will matters only when the great powers recognize its authority.

Flexibility from the Charter

This authority is derived from the member states and their adherence to the Charter. Within the Charter, the Council has the authority and the flexibility to deal with any challenge. Article 2(4) prohibits the threat or use of force, except with the authorization of the Council (Chapter VII) or in self-defense (Article 51). To authorize the use of force, the Council must make an Article 39 determination that a breach of the peace, threat to the peace, or act of aggression has occurred. All 193 member-states must recognize Council decisions above any other obligation per Article 103.2 The only Charter restriction on the Council’s decision-making is in Article 24(2), which states the Council “shall act in accordance with the Purposes and Principles” of the UN.3

Flexibility, after all, was a distinct goal of the founding members at Dumbarton Oaks.4 While the worry of a third world war certainly loomed overhead, the founders were not naïve to think no other threats existed. The sometimes imprecise terminology and lack of definitions within the Charter ensure the Council’s flexibility in facing modern challenges. For instance, recent legal arguments include humanitarian intervention as an exception to Article 2(4). In the past 30 years, the Council’s role has become more proactive “in addressing emerging threats before they are placed on the Council’s formal agenda.”5 It also has more power in peacekeeping operations than it did in the Cold War. As Alexander Orakhelashvili argues, the discretionary powers given to the Council allow it to authorize the use of force in existing peacekeeping operations, so long as the Council makes an Article 39 determination.6 Even without a determination, it may authorize peacekeepers to use force against non-state secessionist or separatist entities.7 These legal adaptations did not fully exist before 1990.  While the imprecision of the UN Charter does not make the Council’s job easy, it allows it to adapt.

Challenges of contemporary war

More significant than any structural challenges for the Council, member-states actively attempt to circumvent international law. Modern challenges posed by state adversaries follow the themes of grey-zone warfare, cyber-attacks, and sponsoring terrorists and proxy forces. Whether circumvention of the UNSC is the desired end, or simply a function of modern strategy, it is problematic for the Council.

Grey-zone warfare, hybrid warfare, measures short of war — these are labels meant to categorize modern strategies. One common denominator is “the rampant instrumentalisation of international law for strategic ends.”8 This stratagem can cause several issues for Article 39 determinations and Article 51 justifications. Despite Russia denying the use of force when it sent special forces to annex Crimea in 2014, it provided the legal justification in case it was determined otherwise.9 Only their forcing of a referendum made it to a draft resolution and was subsequently vetoed by Russia. China’s excess claims in the South China Sea bring to question the possibilities of collective self-defense and who would legally be defending if a war broke out.10 Each of these examples presents a challenge to assessing circumstances, but they do not challenge the authority of the Council to make final determinations. The Council’s discretion surrounding Article 39 means that as these strategies adapt, so might the council. The same can be said for cyber warfare.  

Cyberattacks come with many nuances, problems of interpretation, and enforcement challenges. Cyber capabilities have grown to include physical destruction (Stuxnet), economic coercion (Colonial Pipeline), and everything between. At a fundamental level, this may bring to attention some of the historical attempts to redefine force as coercion or interference.11 The prevailing view in 2011, according to Matthew Waxman, had long been that the use of force must include “armed attack.”12 The emerging opposing view comes from the Tallinn manual, where an “International Group of Experts… unanimously concluded that general principles of international law applied to cyberspace.”13 Further, they concluded that “Acts that injure or kill persons or damage or destroy objects are unambiguously uses of force.”14 The Tallinn view is tantamount to the argument herein: that the imprecise language of the Charter provides the flexibility necessary for the Council to act.

Similar to the challenges above, states increasingly support terrorist and insurgent organizations to carry out proxy wars. With Resolution 1373, the Council set forth a list of prohibited activities supporting terrorist organizations and established a Counter-Terrorism Committee to ensure its adherence.15 The resolution lacks a definition of international terrorism, and, of course, some states abuse this ambiguity. Iran has been repeatedly condemned for state-sponsorship of terrorists, and yet the US justification for killing Qassim Soleimani is hotly debated.16 After all, Resolution 1373 puts the onus on the host nation to stop terrorists but does not blindly authorize the use of force against nations who fail to do so. Some argued the US was acting in self defense, recalling a similar (albeit failed) US legal stance in the Nicaragua Case surrounding US attacks on the Contras.17 Others argue that “an ongoing series of attacks is not an ongoing attack” and therefore does not allow room for self-defense. This particular imperfection in international law remains necessary for the time being. Soleimani clearly supported terrorist organizations, and the IRGC continues to do so, but the legal framework of the Charter does not make a clear pathway for a use of force authorization by the Council. Yet, explicitly extending authorization of force against sovereign states expected of supporting proxy forces could very well lead to wide-spread justification of assassinations. This legal framework, while imperfect, is necessary until the UN member states develop a consensus on issues like the Soleimani case.

Final thoughts: No alternative

Despite the many shortcomings of the Security Council, no alternative that might satiate its critics’ chief complaints would survive. Critics point to a poor track record in regional conflicts like Rwanda, Yugoslavia, and Ukraine. The Council’s maintenance of international peace and security cannot be held to a zero-defect standard. No one can expect any organization to prevent every use of force between sovereign states — just or unjust — especially not an organization that gets its power from those member states.18 Critics also point to indecision and deadlocking. This, too, is unavoidable. The Council should not be evaluated on the idea that it can come to a unanimous deliberation on every use of force. This never happens in international politics. The Council maintains its power over the authorization of the use of force because the largest military powers in the world allow it to do so. Without their support, it would have no teeth whatsoever.

As the exclusive competent authority to authorize the use of force, the Council has been far from perfect, and the answers are not clearly set for them. Nonetheless, these imperfections are due to and critical to the character of international relations. The fact that it remains the forum and the structure for international discourse, even in times of great strife, bodes well for its future. Many of the contemporary challenges to peace and security are not new. Grey-zone warfare is a new label, but the circumstances surrounding any particular situation are no more complicated than the last seven decades. Despite the many challenges of today’s security environment, the Council is best to handle the mantle of responsibility. Any distinct alternative would not last.

“The Decision” from The Polemologist is a section and stand-alone newsletter meant to provide teaching aids in the form of Decision Forcing Cases (DFCs). If you subscribe to The Polemologist, you are automatically subscribed to “The Decision.” Alternatively, you can subscribe solely to the latter.

DFCs are an important aspect in the development of leaders and thinkers, both military and civilian. The essence is in the name. These are case studies, real or imaginary, that are meant to force the student to make decisions. They can be used by individual readers, or they can be presented to students of war. Each subcategory or tag targets a specific audience, and each case is meant to enable discussion, thought, and sharing of lessons learned from experience and study.

Tactical Decision Games (TDGs) put the student into the seat of tactical leaders. They might be commanding an entire front, or leading a fire team. Regardless of scale, they will need to apply tactical thought to come out on top in the horns of a dilemma.

Ethical Decision Games (EDGs) can be tactical, strategic, political, or otherwise. They will likely leave more questions than answers, and tackle difficult problems of ethics in war.

Historical Cases These DFCs will take you step-by-step through the campaigns of history’s Great Captains, attempting to capture their perspectives in the heat of the moment, not in hindsight. Ideally, these will conceal the historical event in question until the student has made a decision.

War is a mere continuation of [politik] by other means.

-Carl von Clausewitz, On War1

This quote is widely accepted in military academic circles as being unquestionably true. It has certainly been the predominant view of war’s place in this world since its publishing. Part of its brilliance is that it supports democracy by ensuring that militaries serve the elected — that Generals answer to Statesmen. But what does politik really mean? More importantly, what should it mean to better enable an understanding of war?

The German politik is just as complicated as German food,2 and can mean either politics or policy. This double meaning has caused many debates over what Clausewitz actually meant. It is possible that German thought does not separate the two and that this is purely a self-induced Anglo-American thought problem. Or, perhaps he meant it only in one of the two senses. It is further possible that Clausewitz did this intentionally, as much of On War uses dialectics. Attempting to discern what he meant causes endless argument of translation and interpretation of an unfinished work. Instead, we should ask: How should we view war?

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War should be seen as an extension of politics, not policy. This view is both the logical and the utilitarian one. There is a distinct difference between the two concepts that muddles and confuses the place of war in the modern world. Forming our language around war as an extension of policy would confine war within a strict interpretation that omits critical aspects. Accepting it as an extension of politics opens the aperture beyond these boundaries and facilitates a greater understanding of war’s nature. Lastly, Clausewitz’ primary purpose of tying war to politik is best served by politics, not policy.

Wars without policymakers

War can certainly serve policy, but such cases are far from universal law. Policy is “A principle or course of action adopted or proposed as desirable, advantageous, or expedient; esp. one formally advocated by a government, political party, etc.” This definition points to something we inherently understand about policy: it has some level of consistency. If an individual leader claims to have a policy, but they change it with their mood, it is considered erratic or waffling opinion, not policy. Both this and the Cambridge definition leave out the individual entirely. Policymakers make policy, but they are not the only ones who make war.

Many of Clausewitz’ critics point to a lack of discussion on non-state war. In John Keegan’s Reith Lecture, “War and the State,” he argues that Clausewitzian war focuses too heavily on the State; that the State is not the only war-making institution. He cites Genghis Khan building an empire to previously unimagined size through war. Nevertheless, the Mongol empire existed only by extorting governments already in place. They were not policymakers unless the policy was to serve more war. “…[T]here are no biographies of Mongol scholars, thinkers, artists, or entrepreneurs…” and

Though they were, in their time, the most powerful people in the world, no political, cultural, or intellectual achievement can be associated with their rule whatsoever. Their society found no place for any man who was not a warrior, and they ended as they began: an army on horseback.

Martin van Creveld used a similar argument as a cornerstone of his book, The Transformation of War, where he coins the term non-trinitarian war (referring to Clausewitz’ trinity).3 One can easily invoke the vast proliferation of terrorist threats since the end of the Cold War to further develop the idea. If war is only for the policymakers, we must omit large swaths of history.

Non-state actors may be able to form and publish policy if they organize, but it is not an essential element of their function as it is for the State. Take, for instance, the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC). For years, their policy was to gain political representation in the Colombian government. Once they achieved this, they immediately fractionalized into warring criminal parties who would instead hold onto power in their own locales. If war does not serve the policy of the faction that leads it, then it is no use to tie war to policy at all.

When policy serves war

To say that (A) is a continuation of (B) by other means is to say that (A) serves (B) and not vice versa. If, however, the relationship can be mutual, then it must be described in different terms. US military officers quickly accept that war can be an extension of policy because that is how the founding fathers of America placed it within their Constitution. Only Congress can declare war. Even in the US, however, war transcends policy.

US Presidents have found ways to subvert the law for the sake of strategy since Abraham Lincoln declared the emancipation proclamation.4 Harry S. Truman did not ask Congress to declare war to defend Korea. He declared a “police action” justified by UNSC Resolutions 82-84. But it was indeed a war. So, the United States fought a war to serve UN policy instead of its own? Why would that be? In the case of Korea, the policy served the war, and the war served politics. Truman pulled a legal maneuver, using the nascent experiment of the UN to adapt and re-interpret US law to justify a war in Korea. The Obama Administration in 2011, too, adapted policy to serve war that served political objectives. The US Department of Justice drafted a shady distortion of US Law to justify the targeted killing of a US Citizen by drone strike overseas. So, if it is common to adopt policies to fit the war, then war is not solely an extension of policy.

All war serves politics

Politics, in the English language and in modern philosophies, carries something greater with it than policy. Realists view politics as a struggle for power between rational states in an anarchical world order. Liberalists view politics as a function of influence, meant to advance and spread liberal values and interests, and it is to be conducted by individuals, groups, and institutions just as much as states. Constructivists view politics as a product of social fabric that determines the interests of states and causes them to act. So, despite its inputs, the intended outputs of politics are power, influence, or position.

War is then a tool to enable power, influence, or position of the belligerents. It matters not if the belligerents are consistent in their goals. It matters not if the belligerents keep their word once given what they once asked for. If they deem it beneficial for power, influence, or position to maintain a war footing, they will do so. Further, the opposite cannot be true.

Politics, unlike policy, cannot and should not serve war. War expends resources. It trades potential power for actual power. If politics is the struggle for power, then it would be wholly unwise to expend potential power without purpose. It would be as if Jeff Bezos suddenly said that Amazon’s chief goal for the next decade was to spend money and deplete its warehouses, giving no explanation as to why. States and polities must choose their means carefully to achieve their potentially unlimited aspirations. This reality is what George Orwell missed in his fictional world order in 1984 and what prevents escalation into “absolute war.”

Escalating to absolute war

Clausewitz’ primary purpose of tying war to politik was to avoid its escalation into absolute war. The best interpretation of this concept comes from Jan Willem Honig:

The fundamental logic underpinning the necessity of aiming for the enemy's disarmament follows from Clausewitz's argument that escalation… is inherent in the use of force… Logic therefore demands that the act of war, from the moment it starts, involves an instantaneous discharge of violence by which the protagonists aim to make each other defenceless. Clausewitz calls this ‘absolute war’. He chooses this word very deliberately. ‘Absolute’ indicates that this is war ‘absolved’, loosened, set free from reality. Absolute war is a conceptual construct and represents an ideal which can never be achieved in reality. It is important because it helps reveal the fundamental tendency which is inherent in war, but which reality obscures by imposing modifications.5

Politik, according to Clausewitz, is the factor that keeps absolute war from becoming a reality. In the context of this article, we must then ask: between politics and policy, which concept prevents absolute war? The answer is unequivocally politics.

Policy is idealistic. Policy can be corrupted to extremist lengths, enabled by the fanaticism of irrational mobs calling for immediate answers to their problems. Policy is Mutually Assured Destruction. Policy is pre-emptive nuclear strike to protect a red line on a map. Politics tempers policy.

Politics brings reason to the argument. Politics puts ideals into the context of what is achievable. Politics takes into account economics, national resources, and diplomatic standings. It navigates risk and reward. It is the understanding that the threat of Mutually Assured Destruction is necessary, but the action thereof is a death wish. War meant to serve ideals would more likely lead to absolute war than anything else.

***

To some, this demarcation may seem trivial or semantic. Yet, theory is the foundation of everything we do. Hence why such an obsession with Clausewitz’ ideas overtakes discussions about war. Theory must serve practice. Whether or not it takes the form of universal law, theory should base itself on logic and utility. Translating theory should honor the original intent, as so many scholars have attempted to do with Clausewitz, but then we must move on and form our own theories. Logically, war serves politics and shares a complicated relationship with policy. Practically, we must view it this way to ensure our wars are fought responsibly and with sound strategy, always bearing in mind the relation between our limited means and our potentially unlimited ends.

This is The Polemologist, a Substack on war, warfare, and all of its contexts. Polemology is the interdisciplinary study of war, known more commonly as war studies.

This Substack is meant to be a tool for reflection and developing thoughts on war. It will likely be imperfect. It is not meant to be limited by scale, time, or space. It is not meant to be limited by discipline or length of post. It will not be solely focused on tactics, strategy, or operational art. It will instead enable the pursuit of war studies from all directions, within all contexts, and to whatever end.

Author

The views expressed in The Polemologist belong to the author of the post and do not reflect those of any organizations the authors belong to. Nor do they reflect the views of The Polemologist, which holds no institutional views.

Chace A Nelson is an Artillery Officer in the US Marine Corps, an Associate of King’s College London, and a former Barrows Fellow at the Brute Krulak Center for Innovation & Future Warfare. He holds a Master of Arts with distinction in War in the Modern World from King’s College London, a Masters of Military Operational Art and Science from Air University, and a Bachelor of Arts in History with a concentration in Military History from the Virginia Military Institute.

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