Recon-Pull

by Maj R. Scott Moore

A 1989 Chase Essay Contest Entry

Reconpull, the ability to find and exploit enemy weakness, is at the heart of a MAGTF’s mission. However, turning this task into reality requires more than simply good intelligence. What it requires is the successful marriage of intelligence and operations.

As the final North Korean charge abated in another pile of dead, the Marine company commander wondered. The day before, his company, Company A, 1st Marines, had penetrated deep into the suburb of Yongdungpo, on the outskirts of Seoul. He had found a gap in the North Korean defenses, reported it, but had seen no effort by his commanders to exploit it. Instead, the advance of the 1st Marines ground ahead to his right and left against heavy resistance. As night fell, the North Koreans awoke to the threat that had penetrated into their rear and responded with vicious, if piecemeal, attacks. Company A, alone, fought throughout the night, while the North Koreans slowly withdrew around it. A fleeting opportunity had passed, and Capt Robert H. Barrow knew it.

Capt Barrow’s frustration, incurred in September 1950, did not stem from incompetence. His commanders were professionals who had learned warfare in the Pacific little over five years before. A large percentage of the Marines with whom he served had been blooded fighting the Japanese. Yet, by training and experience, they seemed to be incapable of exploiting the opportunities uncovered by Capt Barrow. Marine doctrine, forged in the island campaigns of World War II, relied on linear tactics and firepower controlled by detailed plans and control measures that ensured the destruction of the enemy immediately to the front but did not allow for bold maneuver into enemy rear areas. Its commanders were brave and professional Marines who executed their orders as they had been taught, both by education and experience. Unfortunately, they could not capitalize when the North Koreans made mistakes.

After nearly 40 years, Marine Corps doctrine appears to be finally coming to grips with the situation at Yongdungpo. The principles of maneuver warfare have been institutionalized in FMFM 1. Warfigltting. Although fully recognized, if not accepted, by most Marines, maneuver warfare continues to meet obstacles in the Fleet Marine Force, where grand sounding theory must confront reality. At the heart of this struggle resides the concept of reconpull, which emphasizes finding and exploiting enemy weaknesses. Unfortunately, the concept of reconpull also tends to be abstract while the reality of the battlefield does not lend itself to abstractions. Bridging this gap requires comprehension of the principles of reconpull and, more importantly, an understanding of how those principles may be applied.

Reconpull is not a new idea. In 1921, Capt Basil H. Liddell Hart, drawing on his experience on the Western Front, postulated a theory of infantry tactics he called the “expanding torrent.” Equating combat to the flow of water, he wrote that tactics should seek the path of least resistance, naturally widening those soft spots that are found by pouring more forces through them. He compared initial combat to two men fighting in a dark room, each groping for the other with his hands. Success would go to the combatant first able to grasp his opponent and strike at his critical point. Shifting his analogy to modern warfare, Liddell Hart divided this groping effort into two types of reconnaissance-reconnaissance prior to battle and battle reconnaissance. The first involved long-range intelligence gathering, while the latter included the use of scouts and “reconnaissance by fighting.” Like his two fighters, the force able to locate and exploit enemy weaknesses would be victorious. Liddell Hart’s writings, reportedly read by the Germans, became the basis for the Wehrmacht’s devastating blitzkreig tactics. Coincidentally, but perhaps not surprisingly, the guerrilla tactics employed by Mao Tse-tung were conceptually the same, relying on extensive reconnaissance to find weaknesses in Japanese and later Nationalist Chinese defenses and then exploiting them by attacking isolated posts or vulnerable supply points.

Whether postulated by Liddell Hart, practiced by a Panzer commander, or exploited by an Asian guerrilla, successful application of reconpull depends on three basic principles:

First, intelligence must determine the operational plan. Apparently a simple concept, it is perhaps the most violated. All too often, intelligence officers are consulted after a scheme of maneuver has been developed.

Second, operations must be flexible enough to capitalize on unexpected situations, normally fleeting in nature.

Third, and most important, once the fighting starts, intelligence and operations must become inseparable. They are coequal partners on the battlefield. As the situation inevitably changes, the intelligence effort must be reoriented to meet that situation, which in turn redirects the scheme of maneuver.

Thus these three principles constitute a cycle, meshing intelligence and operations.

Reconpull‘s three principles have as their primary objective the location and destruction of the enemy’s critical weakness, an idea that eludes many, for it can be physical or psychological, constant or changing. Simply stated, it is that component of an enemy force that, when destroyed or disrupted, shatters his ability to continue fighting. In Yongdungpo, the North Koreans would not have been able to continue the defense of the approaches to Seoul had Company A’s advance been exploited. For a squad leader faced with knocking out a machinegun, the critical weakness may be the enemy gunner’s ability to see his target. For a Marine expeditionary force (MEF) commander fighting an insurgency, the enemy’s critical weakness may be the guerrillas’ political cadre rather than any purely military target. Whatever it may be, the critical weakness normally can be destroyed by exploiting numerous, smaller vulnerabilities or gaps, much like Liddell Hart’s expanding torrent. Because of this, the enemy usually understands and tries to protect his vulnerabilities, rarely cooperating in his own destruction. Even if unprotected, they can be difficult to find and be so transitory as to defy effective exploitation.

Nonetheless, military history provides numerous examples of commanders able to exploit enemy weaknesses and eventually destroy critical points. In this century, the Germans and Israelis offer the best conventional examples. Mao Tse-tung, the North Vietnamese, and terrorists provide excellent examples of unconventional warriors able to apply reconpull. Despite their obvious differences, they have demonstrated a common denominator-an ability to turn intelligence into decisive action. This requires an intelligence capability that not only collects information but accurately assesses its significance. Operationally, the commanders have possessed forces who could react rapidly to opportunities. The relationship between intelligence and operations is one of equality. This marriage characterized Wehrmacht assaults in Russia in 1941; it also enabled a lone terrorist to kill 241 Marines in Beirut.

The Marine Corps, unfortunately, has not shown itself to be as adept at marrying intelligence and operations. The explanation derives from historical experience. World War II and the Korean War presented few opportunities to exploit enemy weaknesses. Small islands crammed with Japanese bent on extermination and Korean hill masses from which Chinese defenders had to be removed for political reasons did not favor exploitive maneuver. Even in Vietnam, where intelligence bore a larger task, it was translated into quests for body counts. In each case, intelligence focused on targeting-on determining what enemy forces were to be encountered on already established objectives. Rather than providing a clear picture of enemy weaknesses, intelligence sought to determine strengths, which then were attacked.

Historical experience pushed Marine intelligence into a subordinate role, with regrettable consequences. Most obvious, operations planners too often consult intelligence only after plans have been completed. Even when intelligence is produced early enough to influence planners, it provides them with little guidance. In fact, intelligence officers are taught not to recommend courses of action. This subordinate role leads to intelligence officers being perceived as special staff officers whose duties do not include giving tactical advice, a perception reinforced by many intelligence officers whose lack of operational experience makes them overly timid. Usually the junior officer on the staff, poorly equipped through training and experience to advise the operations officer or commander, the intelligence officer has been relegated in many units to the position of providing information and hoping that his seniors will produce accurate analysis. Exacerbating this problem, fragmentation characterizes intelligence collection and analysis with the inevitable result that the product lacks either timeliness or adequate detail. The elements of the Marine air-ground task force (MAGTF) conduct intelligence with little coordination. Greatly expanded intelligence capabilities, ranging from traditional infantry patrols to national-level systems, overburden such an intelligence structure, a fact tragically underscored in Beirut. While the newly formed surveillance, reconnaissance, intelligence (SRI) groups attempt to resolve this problem, their success has been somewhat limited, for reasons that will be discussed. By experience and structure, Marine intelligence continues to play a subservient role.

If it is to influence operations, intelligence must offer recommendations as well as information. The intelligence estimate, the primary means of presenting intelligence conclusions, fails to do so, reflecting in its format a reluctance to delve into operational matters. Yet, with a few changes, the estimate may be transformed. Indeed, the estimate need only be expanded to include recommended courses of action based on identified enemy weaknesses. Expanding the format, however, requires expansion of the horizons of intelligence, from one of description to one of prescription. Whether proffered orally or in writing, the result of long study or hasty analysis, the estimate comprises the focus of main effort for the intelligence officer. Fulfilling his expanded role of advisor, he must be capable of anticipating events, directing his collection and analysis effort ahead of operations. This ability demands equal familiarity with Marine as well as enemy doctrine and capabilities. In short, the Marine intelligence officer must be, foremost, a “combat arms intelligence officer,” adept at translating intelligence into operations.

Based on the intelligence estimate, the operational plan must be flexible enough to take advantage of rapid changes. Mission-type orders, commander’s intent, and decentralized control offer keys to exploitation. Additionally, Marines need to reexamine such operational details as objectives and control measures. An objective strives for one result, putting Marines in a position that places the enemy in an untenable situation. Control measures merely seek to ease the movement of Marines to that objective, not restrict it. Usually expressed in terms of terrain, an objective must orient on the enemy and be general in nature to allow for maximum subordinate initiative. A hill, for example, may be the highest terrain in a zone of action; however, its seizure may not endanger the enemy’s ability to keep fighting. Instead, a nearby road junction may be critical to the enemy’s ability to resupply his forces, a critical weakness if cut. A subordinate commander should have the leeway to seize either, depending on the emerging tactical situation. Given the unique capabilities of a MAGTF, an objective may not be terrain at all, but the results achieved by deep air support or by the elimination of command and control assets. In some situations, terrain objectives may be a negative influence, for they can tend to orient forces on themselves rather than the enemy.

It is at this stage that a smoothly functioning, cohesive intelligence collection and analysis capability becomes critical. As the operations plan succumbs to the battlefield, flexibility demands an accurate, all-source intelligence picture. This requires aggressive intelligence collection that continually looks into the area of interest. For the ground combat element (GCE), the area of interest may extend only a few miles forward and to the flanks. At the MAGTF level, the requirements of the air combat element (ACE) greatly expand this projection. At any command level, however, the area of interest is measured in time, not distance-the time needed for a command to identify and exploit enemy weaknesses. The SRI group demonstrates its greatest strength, and limitation, at this stage. Providing an all-source analysis capability and an ability to call up information from a wide variety of intelligence sources, it can offer a clear picture of uncovered enemy gaps. SRI group detachments, rarely comprised of the same Marines twice in a row, lack the cohesion necessary to perform in more than a technical supporting role, however. Whereas the SRI group undoubtedly offers an increased intelligence collection and analysis capability, the centralization of intelligence into a single administrative command reduces responsiveness. This dichotomy must be resolved if intelligence is to play a vital role in ensuring operational flexibility.

With intelligence guiding operations and operations exploiting intelligence, application of the third principle naturally occurs. Intelligence and operations quickly become inseparable. The intelligence officer should be as familiar with the scheme of maneuver, the operational situation, and the commander’s intent as the operations officer. No operations discussion between commander and operations officer should be without the intelligence officer. Intelligence and operations are cyclic, driving each other. Intelligence should determine the scheme of maneuver, which will dictate the intelligence effort, which will, if properly planned, then redirect the scheme. In practical terms, this means collocation of intelligence and operations officers, both in the field and in garrison. While the increasingly technical nature of intelligence may prevent replication of the Wehrmacht staff system, in which the intelligence officer was a member of the operations staff, the closeness achieved by that system provides a sound conceptual model. The two cannot be separated, nor can one be subordinated to another.

Armed with an understanding of reconpull, its theory, and application, one may now glean valuable lessons from the fight at Yongdungpo. The 1st Marines, driven by Col Lewis B. Puller, had been advancing on Seoul since their landing at Inchon on 15 September 1950. By 19 September, the regiment, against stiffening resistance, had closed on the Han River opposite the suburb of Yongdungpo. The 2d Battalion, 1st Marines became heavily engaged on the south end of the line, warding off North Korean tank-infantry counterattacks. The 1st Battalion, after slipping to the north and relieving elements of the 5th Marines on a hill overlooking the city, had begun its assault on the north end of the suburb, encountering equally strong fighting. Company B, barely across the Han, was halted. The 3d Battalion remained in reserve but, in Puller’s unique style, was actually in the line north of the 2d Battalion, ready to respond to further North Korean attacks. During the afternoon, Barrow’s company began its attack, passing within view of the 3d Battalion and moving across the Han. To Company A’s amazement, no resistance was encountered in Yongdungpo. Pushing nearly a mile into the city, it encountered no North Koreans. Frantically radioing back to his battalion, Capt Barrow received no response other than orders to push on. The battalion commander held to his original plan with Company B as the main attack. In fact, he did not even pass the news of Barrow’s breakthrough on to Puller. Throughout the night, Company A fought off an enemy now acutely aware of the threat to its rear. The 1st Marines, meanwhile, continued to fight on both sides of the breakthrough, battering their way into Yongdungpo.

The fog of war, present as always in combat, seems to have overcome the 1st Marines’ ability to exploit the gap in the North Korean defenses. As the 1st Marines closed on Yongdungpo their momentum slowed. While the North Koreans sought to regroup and launched hasty counterattacks, Puller methodically seized the hills around the city and brought his regiment on line for a methodical push into the city. Barrow’s breakthrough, unplanned, caught the chain of command by surprise and was not exploited. Even if Puller had known of Company A’s advance, he later affirmed that he could not have committed the 3d Battalion to exploit it; the battalion was essentially committed already. The relationship of intelligence to operations at Yongdungpo was one of subordination. Little evidence exists of a concentrated reconnaissance effort being conducted prior to the 1st Marines attack across the Han, nor do the reports of enemy contact appear to have been integrated with other intelligence, a capability only resident at a much higher command level. In fact, the counterattacks launched by the North Koreans surprised Pullerand forced early commitment of the 3d Battalion. Concentration on terrain objectives around Yongdungpo limited the regiment’s flexibility but may have been unavoidable, given the intelligence picture available to Col Puller. Finally, Capt Barrow’s unexpected success was largely disregarded by his commander, whose penchant for an orderly battlefield precluded him from realizing the significance of the advance. Even more disturbing, it was unanticipated by intelligence. The 1st Marines found themselves reacting to the battlefield; intelligence and operations failed to be an integrated team.

To claim that the principles of reconpull would have dramatically altered the battle at Yongdungpo does injustice to Marines who fought there. However, the frustration exhibited by Capt Barrow, as well as after-action reports, indicates that even those Marines who battered their way into the city realized they had forfeited an opportunity. The critical point centers on the fact that, as a consequence of training and experience, the chain of command was incapable of exploiting the situation. Intelligence and operations had diverged. As the Marine Corps strives to integrate maneuver warfare into its doctrine, the principles of reconpull will become increasingly essential to battlefield success. Future combat will be equally as confusing as that confronted at Yongdungpo. The close marriage of intelligence and operations necessary to transform reconpull theory into battlefield reality may well prevent a repeat of Company A’s night-long fight.

Maneuver Warfare

by Col Larry S. Taylor, USMCR

The reappearance of B. H. Liddell Hart in the pages of the Gazette (May90) brought to mind a potential solution to a problem that has bothered me ever since we all began to speak “OODA” [observation-orientation-decision-action], the language of maneuver warfare.

It is difficult to discuss maneuver warfare and avoid the inevitable misunderstanding that will always affect part of your audience. That is, there will always be some who, despite your best efforts, will equate “maneuver” with “movement.” To be sure, maneuver frequently does mean movement but, in the context of our warfighting philosophy, it means much more than that.

Think of the arc of a pendulum labeled “fire” on one end and “maneuver” on the other. In the heyday of the combined arms exercise (as they evolved in the late 1970s) the pendulum became pegged on the “fire” end. We unwittingly developed a mindset in many of our small unit leaders that the thing to do upon encountering an obstacle was to stop until you could blow it away with supporting arms. Then we started speaking “OODA,” the pendulum began to swing back, and we now run the risk of unwittingly developing a mindset that the thing to do upon encounlering an obstacle is to move; no matter the mission or circumstances, just move. Already we are suffering from an explosion of maneuver warfare jargon, frequently with little understanding of the underlying concept. It is a little reminiscent of the Cultural Revolution in Red China, when all that was required to justify criminal behavior or terminal incompetence was to be able to quote from Chairman Mao.

In his classic Strategy, Liddell Hart refers to the “indirect approach” as a “law of life in all spheres: a truth of philosophy,” as applicable to politics, business, or staff functioning, for example, as to battlefield tactics.

I propose that, to help prevent the pendulum becoming pegged on the “maneuver” end of the arc, and to honor B. H. Liddell Hart, we stop calling it “maneuver warfare” and start calling it “indirect warfare.”

Understanding Maneuver as the Basis for a Doctrine

by Capt John F. Schmitt

Maneuver warfare is the official doctrine of the Marine Corps, but not everyone has a complete understanding of the concept. This article takes it apart, studies its component parts, and dispels some of the misconceptions occasionally associated with it. Studying maneuver warfare will give you a clearer insight into how the Corps intends to fight its next war.

The Marine Corps now has an official doctrine called maneuver warfare-an entire way of war based on this single concept called Maneuver. Such a commitment implies a couple of things. First, it implies that this concept had better be awfully powerful and with wide utility-which I think it is and has. Second, it implies that we had better understand this concept very well. That is our purpose here.

This at first might appear a gratuitous, academic endeavor. After all, the concept of Maneuver seems pretty straightforward, does it not? Almost axiomatic, in fact, Maneuver has enjoyed status as one of the principles of war for decades, and it is defined explicitly in Joint Publication 1-02, Department of Defense Dictionary of Militaiy and Associated Terms.

But experience, mine at least, shows that as a group we do not understand Maneuver as well as we ought to. Misunderstandings range from fundamental-such as equating Maneuver to simple movement-to a less than full appreciation for the practical applications of the concept. With that in mind, the intent here is to develop a broader, deeper understanding of the concept of Maneuver as the foundation of a doctrine. Within that intent we will also try to clear up many of the common misconceptions about Maneuver.

Point of Departure: Advantage

As defined by Joint Publication 1-02, Maneuver is the:

employment of forces on the battlefield through movement in combination with fire, or fire potential, to achieve a position of advantage with respect to the enemy to accomplish the mission.

This is the classical definition of Maneuver, and it is fine as far as it goes. But it is a narrow definition, one that limits application, as we will see.

As noted in the joint definition, the conceptual starting point for Maneuver is the desire to gain and exploit advantage as the basis for defeating an adversary. Thus the principle behind Maneuver is simple enough and should not appear intellectually intimidating to anyone. It is in practice that it becomes more difficult-which explains the difference between the great commanders and everyone else.

Maneuver stems from the wish to attain a desired objective as effectively and economically as possible. By the effective and economical use of effort, Maneuver implies the ability to succeed beyond the amount of energy expended. To borrow from science, Maneuver is a form of leverage, which allows us to lift a heavy object that we could otherwise not lift, allows us to get more output for the amount of energy expended-like a lever or a block and tackle that increases mechanical advantage.

This point of departure is manifest in the inclination to bypass the obstacle rather than plow through it, the willingness to follow the course of least resistance, the instinct to duck the punch rather than absorb it, the desire to build a better mousetrap. Carried to the perfect extreme Maneuver offers the alluring promise of defeating an enemy without actually having to close with him; the advantage gained is so decisive the enemy realizes the futility of resisting. “For to win one hundred victories in one hundred battles is not the acme of skill,” Sun Tzu said. “To subdue the enemy without fighting is the acme of skill.” A classic example of this is Napoleon at Ulm in 1805, where his turning movement so mentally overwhelmed Mack that the Austrian surrendered his army of 30,000 without a fight. Such cases are exceptional (which led Clausewitz to reject them as unworthy of consideration), but B.H. Liddell Hart concluded that “their rarity enhances rather than detracts from their value-as an indication of latent potentialities. . . .”

Maneuver need not gain a bloodless victory; its aim is to create leverage that makes victory easier to come by. Clearly, the greater the advantage, the better. Writing about strategy, Liddell Hart said that the “true aim is not so much to bring about battle as to seek a strategic situation so advantageous that if it does not of itself produce the decision, its continuation by a battle is sure to achieve this.” It “has for its purpose the reduction of fighting to the slenderest possible proportions.” Therefore, Maneuver normally consists of two parts: creating the advantage and exploiting it, or finishing the deed.

Limitations

The joint definition is limited in several ways. First, it refers only to the “employment of forces on the battlefield.” But Winston Churchill observed that:

. . . there are many kinds of manoeuvre in war, only some of which take place on the battlefield. There are manoeuvres to the flank or rear. There are manoeuvres in time, in diplomacy, in mechanics, in psychology; all of which are removed from the battlefield, but react often decisively upon it, and the object of all is to find easier ways, other than sheer slaughter, of achieving the main purpose.

There are ways of gaining leverage other than the physical employment of forces, and our understanding should appreciate this.

Second, with its reference to battle and the employment of units through fire and movement, the definition clearly focuses on the tactical level. But, as Churchill implies, the idea of advantage applies at any level of conflict. While at the tactical levels the means of Maneuver may tend to be the physical components of combat power, this is not exclusively so. At higher levels, Maneuver will tend to incorporate a greater range of mental and moral components. The point is that our definition of Maneuver should not apply only at the tactical level but at the operational and strategic levels as well.

Third, the joint definition is one-dimensional: it considers Maneuver only in a spatial dimension, describing the aim of Maneuver as gaining a positional advantage. We limit ourselves unnecessarily by looking only for positional advantage. We ought to look for any advantage that will help us accomplish the mission effectively and economically. As Churchill mentioned, there are plenty of dimensions other than spatial in which we can gain an advantage. There is temporal advantage, for example, gained by establishing a higher tempo than the enemy can keep us with. There is psychological advantage; the boxer who tries to “psyche out” his opponent during the typical prefight hype is maneuvering for a psychological edge before the bell even rings. There are technological, diplomatic, economic, mental, and moral advantages, among others.

The definition describes movement in combination with fire as the vehicle for gaining positional advantage. Just as we limit ourselves by accepting only positional advantage, we limit ourselves by accepting movement as the only means of advantage. There are valid means we ought to consider for gaining leverage other than movement. What is movement but a change in position? The basic ingredient of Maneuver, then, is not movement but change. We gain leverage by introducing some change, or perception of change, that improves our situation relative to the enemy. And it follows that the greater the change (real or perceived-as long as it favors us), the greater the advantage.

Enemy Orientation

One good aspect of the joint definition is the idea that Maneuver makes sense only “in respect to the enemy.” Advantage is by definition a relative thing. Gaining an advantage for ourselves may equally mean putting the enemy at a disadvantage. Liddell Hart wrote that the most effective approach “is one that lures or startles the opponent into a false move-so that, as in jujitsu, his own effort is turned into the lever of his overthrow.” Movement, or any action not focused on the enemy, is not Maneuver; it is simply wasted energy. Therefore, an outward or enemy orientation is integral to Maneuver. This means far more than simply aiming at enemy forces rather than terrain objectives. It means understanding the enemy-his doctrine, tactics, and techniques, his organization, his aims, and his motives. As Sun Tzu said: “Know the enemy and know yourself; in a hundred battles you will never be in peril.”

Creating Advantage

If the basic aim of Maneuver is to maximize advantage, how do we do that?

Exploiting Vulnerability

First, we avoid enemy strength and exploit enemy vulnerability. This is not a new idea. Sun Tzu wrote:

Now an enemy may be likened to waler, for just as flowing water avoids the heights und hastens to the lowlands, so any army avoids strength and strikes weakness. And as water shapes its flow in accordance with the ground, so an army manages its victory in accordance with the situation of the enemy.

In World War I there were “soft-spot” and von Hutier tactics. Later came Liddell Hart’s theories of the “expanding torrent” and the “indirect approach.” Today, we talk of “surfaces and gaps” (from the German “Flaechen und Luekentaktik”). Classically, we think of attacking the enemy in the flanks and rear rather than the front. But in an era of fluid warfare, front, flanks, and rear are relative things rather than permanent aspects; if we are walking down a dark alley and an assailant jumps out at us from a side doorway, we instinctively turn to face him. So it is with military units, although normally the larger the unit, the longer it takes to turn. Thus, it may become necessary to “fix” our enemy’s attention before we can get at his flank.

Rather than describing these terms as permanent physical directions, we might better describe them as a function of attention. The “front” is that area in which the enemy’s attention is focused, whether it be physically before him or not. The “flanks” are on the periphery of his attention and the “rear” where he is least attentive. For that matter, these “areas” may not be areas at all in the spatial sense. The enemy’s “rear,” for example, may be any possibility for which he is unprepared.

Identifying Critical Factors

Second, we realize that some factors of the enemy’s makeup are more critical to him than others. Some, if attacked, he can function without, while others will cause him grievous harm. We should target those factors-be they locations, capabilities, functions, or moral characteristics-that are most critical, the ones from which we will gain the greatest benefit by attacking. This also is not a new idea. With the revival of Clausewitz, the term “center of gravity” is the most popular but also the most prone to misunderstanding. Jomini termed the same basic concept “decisive points” (although his discussion focused more on actual geographical points). Sun Tzu captured it very succinctly: “Seize something he cherishes, and he will conform to your desires.” The basic idea is the same. Attack the thing that will hurt the enemy most. “Attacking” in this sense need not necessarily be destructive. It may actually be a constructive act, such as the Marine Corps’ Combined Action Program (CAP) in Vietnam. The mission was to rid rural areas of Viet Cong control. Rather than trying futilely to track down a fleeter, flitting enemy, the plan was to make the guerrilla’s “position” untenable by attacking the popular support base that was critical to his survival. “Attacking” that base meant using combined action platoons to protect the villages.

A wise enemy will protect those things that are critical to him. Thus identifying our objective becomes a two-part process that must strike a balance between what is critical to him and what is vulnerable to us.

Focus

Maneuver requires not only that we go after such critical vulnerabilities, but also that we focus our own efforts against them. We should point out that focus does not necessarily equate to physical concentration (although this is the classical application of the concept). Focus is the convergence of effort in some way-in space, in time, in intent-so as to create a unified effect. It is possible to be physically dispersed and yet remain focused on a common objective. Consider the German blitzes into Poland and France in 1939 and 1940, both of which comprised multiple broadly dispersed axes, but all of which were unified by a common focus-shattering the depth and cohesion of the enemy defenses. In fact, as we will see later, multiplicity and variability, when properly focused, can be significant contributors to successful Maneuver.

The willingness to gang up (at least in purpose if not in mass) on critical enemy vulnerabilities demands a certain streak of ruthlessness and opportunism. It also demands the willingness to accept risk. Focusing in one way necessitates strict economy in others. In his study of the decisive battles and campaigns of history, John Boyd identified a common condition of success which he called “unequal distribution.” Therefore, if we will Maneuver, it seems we must overcome the natural inclination to “fair share”; that is, to spread ourselves evenly (in efforts and attention as well as resources).

Selectivity

The ability to identify those critical factors implies selectivity, which derives from judgment and intelligence (in both the G-2 sense and the generic sense). Maneuver thus means being more intelligent than the enemy-outfoxing him, outsmarting him, out-thinking him. What is the characteristic that distinguishes the Great Captains of military history? It is not that they had larger armies, because they often bested superior foes. It is not necessarily that their armies were better equipped or trained. It is because, understanding their enemy and their own capabilities, they made war more wisely. Clearly, Maneuver means “fighting smart” as FMFM 1 says, relying on the intelligent use of force rather than brute strength to gain the objective economically.

Creating Disadvantage

As we have seen, improving our situation relative to the enemy may be a matter of degrading his situation relative to us. We do this by limiting his ability-physical, mental, and moral-to effectively counter the things we do. We seek to surprise him or distract him so that, at least temporarily, he is not working at full effectiveness.

Surprise

Surprise is a condition of disorientation that occurs as the result of some unexpected event. In its most extreme cases surprise may take the form of shock or paralysis. But in any form, the result is a temporary loss, if only partial, of effectiveness. Why is an enemy surprised? There are three basic reasons: he can be deceived as to what is happening, he can be confused as to what is happening, or he can simply be ignorant of what is happening. It is important to remember that surprise is not something we do, but something that happens to the enemy as the result of some event. We can certainly take actions intended to surprise him, but success depends in the end on his susceptibility to being surprised.

The first way we can try to surprise the enemy is by deception, by which we try to delude him into believing we are doing something we are not. We try to give the enemy a clear picture of the situation, but the wrong picture. He has a choice, but we convince him to choose wrong. For example, through an elaborate deception plan in 1944, the Allies succeeded in deceiving the Germans into believing the cross-channel invasion of France would take place at Calais. So complete was the deception that a full three weeks after the Normandy landings the Germans still refused to redeploy their operational reserve, the 15th Army, out of Calais, convinced the Normandy invasion was but a subsidiary landing.

The second way, and one we do not appreciate as well, is through ambiguity, by which we seek to confuse the enemy so he does not know what to believe. He is faced with a choice but cannot choose. Ambiguity depends on multiplicity and variability, the ability to act in such a way that offers us numerous options so that the enemy cannot focus against us. Sun Tzu said:

The enemy does not know where I intend to give battle. For if he does not know where I intend to give battle he must prepare in a great many places. And when he prepares in a great many places, those I have to fight in any one place will be few.

Another way we create ambiguity is to be without any discernible form or pattern, to appear irregular and amorphous while maintaining an effective organization, to appear purposeless while having a focused purpose. Sun Tzu again:

Subtle and insubstantial, the expert leaves no trace; divinely mysterious, he is inaudible. Thus he is master of his enemy’s fate. . . .

The ultimate in disposing one’s troops is to be without ascertainable shape. Then the most penetrating spies cannot pry in nor can the wise lay plans against you.

The resulting ambiguity enabled surprise.

The third way we seek to surprise the enemy is to act in such a way that the enemy has never even considered, to do something completely outside the realm of the conceivable. Whereas in the first two methods the enemy is faced with choices, in the third he does not even realize there is a choice to be made. More than the others, surprise by this method relies on speed and security and on an ingenious flair for the truly creative and unexpected. We can turn once more to Sun Tzu who said, “Speed is the essence of war. Take advantage of the enemy’s unpreparedness; travel by unexpected routes and strike him where he has taken no precautions.”

An example is MacArthur’s masterful stroke at Inchon in 1950, which came as completely unexpected to the overextended North Koreans and resulted in the total collapse of the North Korean army. The scheme was outlandish even to MacArthur’s seniors and staff, who were opposed from the start; it became a reality only as the result of MacArthur’s personal persistence.

Of the three forms, deception would seem to offer the greater payoff because it actually deludes the enemy into misplaying his hand rather than simply leaving him guessing. But deception is usually also more difficult to pull off because it requires us to actually convince the enemy of a lie as opposed to simply trying to hide the truth. Deception will have a greater effect and a greater chance of success if the delusion we try to sell reinforces what the enemy is already predisposed to believe. Finally, deception is usually more vulnerable to compromise than the other forms.

Distraction

The second way we can degrade our enemy’s ability to counter us is to distract him, meaning we try to occupy his attention in one way to create an advantage in another. Certainly, a distraction may have as part of its purpose to deceive the enemy, but even if we cannot surprise him we can still create for him a dilemma designed to force him to divide his attention and his efforts. Thus, Maneuver would seem in many cases to consist of two distinct but complementary parts, the intent of the first being to set the stage for the second-creating the advantage then exploiting it. Sun Tzu describes this as the cheng and ch’i: the cheng being the normal or direct, the fixing force; and the ch’i being the extraordinary or indirect, the decisive force.

Generally, in battle use the normal force to engage; use the extraordinary to win. . . .

In battle there are only the normal and extraordinary forces, but their combinations are limitless; none can comprehend them all.

As BGen Samuel B. Griffith notes in his translation of Sun Tzu: “Should the enemy perceive and respond to a ch’i manoeuvre in such a manner as to neutralize it, the manoeuvre would automatically become cheng.” The cheng and ch’i will be most effective if they put the enemy on the horns of a dilemma, so that to react to one the enemy makes himself more vulnerable to the other.

The notion of distraction explains why in our very first tactics lessons we were taught that an envelopment (which, we learned, was the superior form of maneuver) requires a base of fire while a frontal attack does not.

Thus, the suppressive effect of fire (or even, as the joint definition indicates, the potential for fire), in that it prevents the enemy from effectively countering our actions, is a component of Maneuver. For that matter, the destructive effects of fire, if used to put the enemy at a specific disadvantage (such as to create a gap or knock out a machinegun position that is the backbone of an enemy defense) rather than simply to cause cumulative attrition, can be a component of Maneuver as well. The same applies for communications jamming, for example, which disrupts the enemy’s command in order to create leverage at a key moment although continuous barrage jamming that seeks to degrade the enemy’s general ability to communicate irrespective of some other, decisive action does not qualify.

We should point out that distraction does not require the physical application of force, such as a fixing attack or a base of fire, but can be any element that occupies the enemy’s attention.

Variety and Cunning

Our ability to take an enemy unprepared-to put him at a disadvantage by surprise or distraction-rests in part on our ability to remain unpredictable; that is, not to conform to the enemy’s expectations. The first time we strike the enemy’s left flank it will probably constitute Maneuver. When we repeat the action, it may or may not be Maneuver. The third time we try, it probably will not be Maneuver; it will probably be exactly what the enemy expects. Thus, variety, as a condition of unpredictability, is an integral component of Maneuver over time. By the same argument, novelty, originality, and creativity are components as well.

If we couple this bent for the original with the ruthlessness described earlier, we see the emergence of cunning and craft, a talent for artifice and wile. We get what Churchill described as “an element of legerdemain, an original and sinister touch, which leaves the enemy puzzled as well as beaten.”

Speed

The final key component of Maneuver is speed. To create advantage and exploit potential advantage, we must be able to act faster than the enemy can react. Because we now appreciate Maneuver not only in the spatial dimension, we should not think of speed only in terms of the ability to move fast, but also in terms of tempo-the ability to think, decide, act, and react quickly. And because Maneuver only has meaning relative to the enemy, it is not absolute speed that matters, but relative speed. As John Boyd says, we can be slow as long as the enemy is slower. We can gain an advantage by improving our own speed or by decreasing our enemy’s.

Speed is a contributor in that it allows us to concentrate superior force against selected enemy weakness and that it allows us to take the enemy by unexpected action. But speed is also a lever in its own right in that through superior speed we can seize and maintain the initiative, allowing us to dictate the terms of conflict and shape events to our advantage. Furthermore, if change is the basic vehicle of Maneuver, speed increases the impact of change and heightens the enemy’s resulting disorientation. In other words, the faster we change the situation, the greater the consequent advantage. And since war is a fluid phenomenon, if we change the situation quickly and continuously over time, our advantage compounds with each change.

What Maneuver Is Not

We have taken the concept of Maneuver apart, and hopefully we have discovered there is far more here than immediately meets the eye. But we are not finished. We still need to eliminate the commonly held misconceptions about Maneuver. We have analyzed what Maneuver is; we also need to clarify what Maneuver is not.

Movement

It should be clear by now that simple movement does not equate to Maneuver. By definition, Maneuver must be oriented on the enemy; simple movement does not qualify. Furthermore, Maneuver is not necessarily simply relational movement. This may be one manifestation of Maneuver, but hardly the only one. We have seen that Maneuver exists in many dimensions, not just spatial, and that the essential means of a Maneuver is change in whatever form rather than movement.

Dependent on Mechanization

Nowhere in our discussion to this point have we identified the need for mechanization or motorization. This misconception has arisen because we often equate Maneuver with rapid movement-as we have seen, a misconception in itself-and we equate rapid movement with mechanization. In many environments, if used properly, foot-mobile forces can generate greater mobility than mechanized forces. And it is not absolute speed that matters anyway, but relative speed. Even if we are slow, so long as the enemy is slower, we maintain the advantage.

Simply Flanking Attacks or Envelopments

We associate flanking attacks and envelopments with Maneuver because we associate the enemy’s flanks and rear with vulnerability. And, in fact, these actions will often constitute Maneuver in the classic sense. But to establish a universal tactic, such as the envelopment, is to contradict the variety that is integral to Maneuver. Used exclusively, the envelopment ceases to be a tactic at all and becomes a rote procedure performed mechanically and not oriented on the enemy. The Israelis learned this in Lebanon in 1982 when they discovered they had better success attacking frontally because their enemy had become conditioned to expect flanking movements.

Bloodless

War is about fighting. War is by nature a bloody business. Many of the critics of Maneuver mistakenly believe that Maneuver advocates units “running amok” (as a critical article in the Gazette recently put it), running circles around, bypassing, enveloping the enemy, and in the words of one general officer: “Trying to confuse him to death,” but never actually fighting him. With all due respect to Sun Tzu, only in exceptional cases does Maneuver eliminate the need for fighting. Rather, Maneuver seeks to arrange the situation so that when we do fight it as at an advantage. As Sun Tzu further said: “Therefore a skilled commander seeks victory from the situation and does not demand it of his subordinates.” Maneuver does not mean that we do not fight; it means that we fight selectively.

Divorced From Firepower

Similarly, Maneuver does not imply that firepower is unimportant. It does not even imply that firepower is only of secondary importance. And nothing in our discussion has implied that killing the enemy contradicts the concept of Maneuver. The JCS definition clearly states that firepower is a key component of Maneuver (at least in the tactical sense). At the tactical level at least, skillful Maneuver uses firepower to create or exploit advantage, not simply to grind the enemy down cumulatively.

Inapplicable in Low-Intensity Conflict

A recent Gazette article, “A Marine for All Seasons’? Maneuver Warfare versus Low-Intensity Conflict,” (MCG, Sep89) argues that:

the basic tenets of maneuver warfare (combined arms teams running amok-sorry, amidst-a fluid, violent battlefield) have no place in most forms of low-intensity conflict.

The author suffers from the common malady of understanding Maneuver only in the spatial dimension. Against an irregular, unconventional enemy with no discernible front, flanks, or rear (in the spatial sense), who refuses to stand and fight a conventional battle, naturally such conventional interpretations will fail. But by now I hope we are beginning to see Maneuver in broader terms than these. The components of Maneuver as we have identified them-creating and exploiting advantage in any form; opportunism; superior speed or tempo; focusing ruthlessly on critical enemy factors; surprise in the form of deception, ambiguity or unpredictability; distraction; variety; creativity; and enemy orientationwould seem to apply quite obviously to any kind of war. Indeed, these Maneuver components would seem to apnlv to any kind of comnetitive endeavor.

The guerrilla, with his hit-and-run tactics, his inherent ambiguity resulting from irregular and amorphous organizations, and his unwillingness to stand and fight unless at a distinct local advantage, demonstrates a keen appreciation for Maneuver in its unconventional forms. The ambush, a staple tactic in most types of low-intensity conflict, is a perfect example of Maneuver at its purest and most basic best: letting an unknowing enemy put himself at an overwhelming disadvantage and making him pay dearly for it. The CAP cited earlier is an excellent example of operational-level Maneuver applied to low-intensity war.

Synthesis: What Maneuver Is

We have taken Maneuver apart to try to glean its various components, some of which are integral and some of which are merely contributors or multipliers of advantage. We have tried to dispel the various misconceptions about Maneuver as well. What are we left with?

Maneuver derives from a very simple concept: creating and exploiting advantage as a means for defeating an opponent quickly, effectively, and economically. Although simple in concept, in application Maneuver comprises a nearly countless variety of forms and methods, limited only by the imagination and the parameters of the given conflict. There is far more to Maneuver than a rapid movement around an enemy’s flank. As the basis for a doctrine, Maneuver is not captured in a single act, nor even in a consistent way of acting. Rather, it is manifest in a certain state of mind, a mental approach to conflict. It is at its source an approach based on intelligence and all this implies: being selective, being focused, being clever, being creative, being crafty. It is an approach that ruthlessly exploits advantage. It is an approach that recognizes the inherent value of speed.

Thus, if we had to offer a revised definition for Joint Pub 1-02, it might read something like this: “ManeuverA mental approach to conflict, born of opportunism, variety, and cunning, by which we create and exploit advantage as a means for success by creating a rapidly and continuously changing situation in which our enemy cannot effectively cope. We do this by focusing strength against critical enemy vulnerability, generating superior speed, and distracting or disorienting our foe through ambiguity or deception.”

Maneuver Warfare in Commercial Board Wargames

by Capt Eric M. Walters

If you responded to my article, “Studying Military History With Wargames” (MCG, Dec89) and are thinking about augmenting your professional reading with wargaming, you can expect to be dazzled at least initially by most of the games produced today. You may find your library of books and games quadrupling in size every couple of months as your reading causes you to search out more games and your wargaming experiences prod you to read more books. But sooner or later the novelty will wear off, and the limitations of most board wargames will come home to roost. By this time you’ll have a basic mastery of tactical fundamentals; you’ll be winning in your games fairly often, and when you do lose it will have been by a squeak. If maneuver warfare terminology and ideas previously seemed to be vague and inconsistent to you, you will begin to understand them better and be looking for ways to test your comprehension of these principles on the gameboard. And you will find that this will be somewhat difficult, given the limitations of most board wargames.

Once this happens to you, you will have graduated from “grammar school” wargaming and be ready for something more challenging. The purpose of this article is to introduce you to advanced techniques in search of better ways to simulate the conditions of war and apply maneuver warfare on the gameboard.

Better Simulating the Conditions of Warfare

Most wargames are designed to please people with an intimate “book knowledge” of the weapons and terrain involved in a particular battle. These specific aspects of combat are relatively easy to quantify and understand; the game is focused on the “weapons effects” of units against each other, especially in regard to combined arms applications. This is what usually fascinates newcomers to wargaming. Perfect intelligence, perfect command and control, and the ability to move all of a player’s forces before his opponents can react represent sacrifices of reality made for greater attention to weapons effects and are often at first overlooked or forgiven by the wargaming novice.

The clash of forces working under

different philosophies of doctrine, organization, training, leadership, and command, control, communications, and intelligence (C3I) is much more difficult for both the designer to model and for the player to comprehend. Such considerations don’t lend themselves to a numerical analysis so easily. Games that do address them in detail tend to be complex and scare off potential players.

In most wargames, the only way to get inside the opponent’s OODA (observation, orientation, decision, action) loop is to think faster and further ahead. While this is certainly realistic to an extent, even brilliant generals have to contend with the limitations of their forces and the fog of war. Securing victory is limited to attacking immediate or potential weaknesses in the opponent’s spatial disposition of forces, not through achieving a higher tempo of operations aimed at paralyzing his control over the situation. Combat ineffectiveness of a force is only reached when there are too few pieces on the mapboard to adequately defend vital territory-the rest have been eliminated from the game solely through combat losses or isolation from supply sources. There is no way to render an opponent ineffective by any means other than the direct and systematic destruction of his pieces in these games.

This undercuts the basis of maneuver warfare philosophy as applied on the gameboard: deceive the opponent, attack his most critical weaknesses at the most critical times, use friction and the fog of war to advantage in order to overwhelm the opponent’s decisionmaking capacity. Make him not only lose whatever initiative he might have, but ultimately rob him of the chance to effectively react to friendly actions. Nimbleness and finesse, in time as well as in space, should be able to bring down an opponent with numerically superior forces on the mapboard.

Most games can’t accurately show how this is to be done. In an effort to take into account better doctrine, C3I, organization, initiative, etc., these games crudely equate such advantages in “weapons effects” terms, usually giving the better force higher combat values and movement ability than what were strictly historical. Such games, by their very nature, downplay the roles of reconnaissance units, reserves, and deception, and so distort the simulation of combat. In short, playing such games seems to feel less like war and more like just a game, and the player tends to feel that he is acting less like a commander and more like a gameplayer.

Elsewhere in this article is a listing of the handful of games that, by virtue of their system design, most successfully address the conditions of warfare and allow you, the player, the best opportunity to practice maneuver warfare. Nearly all of them have fairly long and sometimes complicated rules, and so are not recommended for beginners. Yet any wargame can more realistically reflect the conditions of warfare-without such involved systems-by the addition of an umpire or referee. When an umpire is available, each player uses his own copy of the game and can only see the position of his forces and those of the enemy he would realistically have under observation. The umpire has a third copy of the game with the positions of both forces. He determines which units are observed for each player and handles all bookkeeping functions, such as combat resolution.

If you don’t find a third player expert in a particular game or willing enough to be an umpire, try one of the games recommended in the listing. Either way, you’ll be getting a better simulation of the conditions of warfare. How this is done is explained below.

* The Fog of War. Wargames that simulate this aspect of warfare deny players perfect knowledge of enemy dispositions, sometimes even of the enemy order or battle and mission. Pieces are inverted and mixed with dummy units to confuse the opponent and can only be revealed when observed or detected by his units using rules for that purpose. In umpired games the referee determines which units can be seen and cannot be seen by using his own expert judgment. Veteran umpires usually have their own homemade rules and charts to aid in reflecting the relative difficulty of seeing motionless units in cover or seeing out of a buttoned-up tank, and so on. Reconnaissance units, practically worthless in most games, take on crucial significance.

* Friction. One of the best games to simulate this aspect of warfare, Advanced Squad Leader, has provisions for crew-served weapon malfunctions, throwing tank tracks, ammunition depletion, unit surrender in desperate circumstances, intermittent communications, units losing their way at night, etc. Strategic games may include political constraints on operations, limiting the grandiose plans of the player in a realistic way. Murphy’s Law seems to run amok, and players often anguish over how to do the simplest of operations. In refereed games the umpire can inflict varying degrees of friction on opposing forces using his own system, kept secret from the players. For example, if he tells one side that his supply status is critical, during combat resolution the unit of that side may not consistently fight at full strength-depending on how long it has been in contact.

* Fluidity. In most wargames, a player can move all his units before his opponent can react with a single piece. Games like Fire Team confront a player with an action-reaction sequence of movement in which he can only move a fraction of his force before the opponent reacts. With an umpire, both sides may write movement and combat orders for their units which the referee resolves on the gameboard simultaneously. Both sides are constantly faced with fleeting opportunities and sudden retribution for mistakes. Keeping a large reserve in order to exploit unforeseen opportunities or to deal with unexpected crises is very important in these games. Each move made is fraught with promise and peril, and the moves mesh together into a flowing continuum of combat.

* Morale. Cardboard pieces no longer blindly attack or defend to the last gasp. Some units are more steadfast than others, but no unit is ever completely reliable under fire. Today’s heroes may be tomorrow’s cowards (and vice versa). Units become more fragile as they take losses, and leader pieces are needed to rally demoralized men when they break under the shock and fatigue of combat. National will may falter, lessening a commitment to a war and restricting the actions of units in the field. These considerations can arbitrarily but realistically be incorporated into an umpired game, while some board wargames like Squad Leader and Vietnam simulate this aspect of combat well in their own right.

* Leadership. For games with leader units, such as Fire Team or 1809, the player must wrestle with decisions on

where to place his good and mediocre leaders. In umpired games with multiple players, the supreme commander of each side must determine which player is best suited to each mission and force he must command. Forces and tasks must be matched to the capabilities of their commanders; giving a leader/player more than he can handle is a real possibility to be guarded against.

* C3I Effectiveness. No longer do all subordinate units automatically do what the player wants when he wants. Different formations complete tasks at different rates, depending on a quantified effectiveness rating of their staffs and communications. A player can offset the disadvantages of numerical inferiority if the C3I and organizational structure of his force allows him to perform more actions than his opponent. Games, such as 1809 and Tank Leader, graphically demonstrate the effectiveness of superior C3I through simple but realistic rules. This consideration is harder to simulate in an umpired game if the wargame played has no C3I rules unless it’s multiplayer-one way often used is to require the side with the poorer C3I system to not only write this turn’s orders for his units, but next turn’s as well. In a multiplayer game, the umpire can enforce communications restrictions on the participants of each side that reflect historical communications constraints.

Practicing Maneuver Warfare Principles

With the conditions of warfare accurately simulated by these methods, at last you have the opportunity to successfully apply maneuver warfare on the gameboard. If you thought that executing basic tactical principles when you first began to play wargames was daunting, the uncertainties with which you now must deal often paralyze many players into indecisiveness and inaction. You will always be looking at the board and cringing at your own pitiful situation-how easily your opponent could make mincemeat out of you! But he is no doubt thinking the same thing, and do either of you really know each other’s weaknesses? And even if one or the other (or both) of you do, are forces poised to take advantage of them? Wargaming at this advanced level sees players less occupied with making the perfect move in clockwork precision and more worried about finding the enemy, discovering or creating a weakness, making sure there is appropriate force to exploit that weakness, and mentally trying to see a way through all the obstacles to success. The latter ensures that each contest is ultimately a psychological one, as players not only battle each other over the tabletop, but also battle within themselves to overcome their own fears and doubts. If nothing else, the experience is quite character forming.

How do maneuver warfare principles translate onto the gameboard at this level of wargaming? Probably better than in any other medium short of actual combat, as the following discussion demonstrates.

* Shaping the battle. You must get yourselves oriented to the situation so you won’t flail around getting oriented when the unexpected happens. Look at the gameboard (terrain). Look at the victory conditions (your mission). Look at your forces (troops available). Look at how many turns the game or scenario is going to last (time available). And most important, try to estimate what type of force your opponent has and how he will use it (the enemy). The umpire may give you some intelligence concerning the latter, but if you aren’t playing with one, the scenario instructions might provide a good enemy order of battle. Yet even if you have a detailed order of battle for your opponent’s forces, you probably won’t be sure of his dispositions once the game starts. You must identify your own strengths and weaknesses and try to at least narrow down the probable ones of your opponent. Some quick time/distance calculations on the board may give you some indications as to where battles are likely to take place. Key terrain must be identified and a basic plan developed. While no plan survives contact with the enemy, you must have some general idea of how you want the battle to go and build into your play enough flexibility to take advantage of unexpected oppor-unities while minimizing unexpected misfortune. If this isn’t done you’ll probably lose the game to a competent opponent even before you start, for you will be reacting to his moves-he will be shaping the battle to his desires. You can’t afford to let him have the initiative before the first move is made.

If you are playing in a multiplayer game as the supreme commander, issue a clear estimate of the situation (this articulates your fundamental assumptions), a clear commander’s intent (what you want to have happen to the enemy), and simple mission-type orders (what each subordinate must accomplish in order to achieve the commander’s intent-not how to accomplish it). It will take some practice to do this correctly; you will find the first few times that your subordinate may understand what you want before the game starts, only to be lost in incomprehension once contact is made. Be a subordinate commander a few times and you’ll see what I mean.

* Finding the soft spots. Well, you do have reconnaissance units of some kind. You’ll need a plan for using them, not only to find the enemy, but also to find out where he is weak. This effort will involve your whole force, to include your brain. Units on the board will find the spatial gaps in your opponent’s dispositions, but it will be you who notices that he is sluggish in his movements in this sector here but not that sector there or that he mounts a better attack than he builds a defense, and so on.

* Decisionmaking. You are going to have a lot of information to go on, so much of your appreciation of the situation is going to be based on your intuition. The more you know your opponent and his methods, the more accurate your intuition will be. Does he like to attack no matter how foolish it may look? Is he the rash type, or is he more cautious and methodical? His every quirk is both a strength and a weakness-avoid circumstances that play to his strengths, and create ones that magnify his weaknesses.

Don’t let your lack of information paralyze you into indecisiveness and inaction, leaving your pieces nearly motionless on the gameboard, because you want to have a better picture of the unfolding tactical situation. Lots of players do this. Let this natural tendency of your opponent be something you can use against him; for yourself, be firm in applying your decisions, but be flexible enough not to pursue what turns out to be a bad course of action.

* Focus of effort. If you are playing a multiplayer game, it is important that all the players on a side recognize what the focus of effort means and their target. Otherwise each participant goes sallying off to fight his own little

war, and the operations of a side are without a sense of purpose and unity. If you alone are playing a side, you must fix your goal firmly in mind, think about and designate a focus of effort for all your operations, and stick to it as long as it remains relevant to the situation at hand. A mistake many players make is to continue on with a given focus of effort despite failure, even when something else looks to be much more promising. Mostly this happens out of a fear of the unknown and the unwillingness to change plans in the face of a changing situation.

* Speed, surprise, deception. If you aren’t making any headway, don’t lapse into inaction or push on with failure. Keep looking for a vulnerability or try to create one. No matter how strong your opponent may appear, he is weak or can be made weak somewhere. Find it. Configure your units you know to be seen by your opponent in such a way that they can threaten him one way or another. Perhaps he can only react to one move or the other, not both. Perhaps he will hesitate in order to “develop the situation.” Let your opponent fall into a “wait and see” posture: feed him a deception, then hit him at the decisive point when he is committed to a course of action based on an erroneous assumption. Force him to dance to your tune, react to your operations, and keep him from initiating his own. Inflict on him many small setbacks, building the foundation for the big setback that will give you the game, or at least cause him to throw in the towel. You should try to create in his mind the impression that he is losing the game, whether he actually is or not.

Do remember, though, that wargames are just that-games-and that they aren’t worth losing friends or opponents over. If you are too blood-thirsty you will soon run out of opponents willing to play you, and thus many learning opportunities will be lost. Temper your desire to win with common courtesy and the greater desire to learn from the experience.

As you can see, the broad principles of maneuver warfare work well in games that accurately simulate the conditions of war. Some readers might want concrete examples of how this translation of theory to the gameboard is done, but it varies from game to game and from opponent to opponent. There are no magic checklists or formulas to be discovered, just as in actual combat.

Quite a few Marines toss around maneuver warfare terminology with a vague idea of what it means but usually aren’t able to articulate how these ideas might be applied practically in combat. Those somewhat versed in military history will cite the well-known historical examples as illustrations of maneuver warfare principles in action, but any detailed explanation of how these concepts could be executed against any specific foe is rarely given. Part of the problem, admittedly, is that we Marines aren’t as knowledgeable about our potential enemies as we should be, but there is also a practical unfamiliarity with maneuver warfare concepts as well. This isn’t surprising-how often are we given “hands-on” opportunities to really practice these principles in peacetime? Unless you play wargames, these opportunities are few, if they even exist at all.

Once you have achieved a basic mastery of wargaming, and if you fancy yourself to be a serious student of military history or an advanced tactician, you will have your tactical problem-solving ability severely challenged by the kinds of games this article describes. These games are so successful at simulating not only the dynamic nature of combat, but also its uncertainties, that you can only hope for success if you apply tactical solutions that would work in real life. Your first few playings may overwhelm you with the unknowns and possibilities, but with practice you will be able to confidently deal with them. You will realize that while superior tactics vis-a-vis your opponent do not always earn you victory, inferior ones certainly guarantee you defeat. Soon you will notice an increasing ability to instinctively sense the true situation, to grasp its essentials quickly, and to correctly perceive the possibilities for action with their attendant risks and benefits-both in yourself and in the Marines you train using these games. Over time you and they will be able to make tactical decisions better and faster, both on and off the gameboard. There is simply no other medium as powerful and yet as inexpensive that can so realistically test your military judgment and practical understanding of maneuver warfare.

Artillery in Maneuver Warfare

by Col Kent O. Steen

Artillery, often regarded as the principal arm of attrition-style warfare, is in reality a crucial element in maneuver warfare. Properly employed it is ready to meet the challenges of the Corps’ emerging maneuver doctrine.

This article addresses the role of the field artillery in maneuver warfare. My proposition is that the historical standard missions of Marine Corps field artillery contain no bias that automatically predispose the arm to any style of warfare. The arm, outrageously efficient in killing, is uniquely organized to respond to any competent force commander’s style of waging war. I am writing only because in the decade-old polemics on the subject, some maneuver enthusiasts continue to regard field artillery as a symbol of attrition warfare. To right this wrongful view, I will summarize and interpret the standard missions of the field artillery in light of the concepts currently governing ground combat. Since the standard missions form the central logic for how the field artillery is orchestrated, they are worth examining for bias toward any style of warfare. I will conclude with what I believe to be appropriate characteristics of field artillery being employed in a maneuver setting.

Standard Missions

First, a word about the purpose of standard missions. Standard missions have evolved to promote efficiency and flexibility within artillery while complying with the intent of the force commander. Embedded within each of the terms “direct support”, “reinforcing”, “general support”, and “general support reinforcing” are a host of automatic actions and responsibilities that are triggered with the receipt of a new mission. The standard missions are supremely practical and tested by experience. For example, the simple order for an artillery battalion to assume direct support of a given maneuver element, normally a brigade, instantly trips levers, switches, and attitudes resulting in the establishment of appropriate communications, the dispatch/reorientation of forward observers, adjustment of the zone of action (or however the maneuver elements responsibilities are delineated) to that of the supported unit, and relocation of forces as necessary to support the mission and commander’s intent. Further, fire planning to prosecute the mission of the supported maneuver element begins.

Direct Support (DS)

The most comfortable and familiar mission of the artillery, but ironically the one least consistent with the effective application of fire support in a maneuver warfare climate, is DS. A field artillery battalion assigned a DS mission is immediately responsive to the fire support needs of a particular maneuver element. Force commanders in fluid offensive situations, however, will flinch from an arithmetic or egalitarian parceling of field artillery assets, for such usage beggars the precept of focus of main effort and undermines the benefits of unexpected massing of fires that can promote maneuver breakthroughs, pursuit, and decision through the violence of the field artillery. For training efficiency in garrison, habitual artillery-infantry relationships promote understanding and confidence in capabilities. However, when the force commander’s intent involves maneuver, optimum centralization of control may be necessary to achieve decision, and habitual direct support relationship is entirely inappropriate.

Reinforcing (R)

When indicated, field artillery battalions reinforce other field artillery units in support of maneuver units. The R mission is derived from, and is a clear expression of, the force commander’s intent. An artillery battalion so tasked does not abandon its original DS mission altogether, but the R mission permits the ready shift of priorities in keeping with the fluid nature of offensive combat. A reinforced artillery battalion may be reinforced by any number of artillery battalions. Prudence and the standard mission, however, permit a battalion to reinforce only one other artillery unit.

General Support Reinforcing (GSR)

The standard mission of GSR begins to give maximum flexibility to the force commander through the centralized control of his artillery. The GSR mission enables the field artillery to “lean forward” to exploit opportunities that arise with maneuver success. A commander may shift his main effort by the sudden application of artillery, which he has positioned for exploitation through the assignment of the GSR mission. The reinforcing component of the GSR mission keeps the artillery battalion in the action. Further, the GSR mission fulfills the precept of not having artillery in reserve when there are lulls in the tempo of fire support requirements for the force as a whole and little activity for the general support component of the mission.

General Support (GS)

The field artillery GS mission, as indicated above, provides the force commander with the artillery he determines that he needs to fulfill his intent. Centralized control is the most efficient and effective way to meet both the needs of area defense and economy of force considerations. Perhaps unexpectedly, centralized control best enhances the force commander’s ability to prosecute his intent in offensive operations.

For the record, a more detailed discussion of the standard Marine artillery missions can be found in FMFM 7-4. As can be gleaned from the foregoing, these standard missions are indifferent or neutral as to the style of warfare being conducted. There is nothing in the language describing any of the missions to suggest that they were designed for or dedicated to an attrition style of warfare.

Nonstandard Missions

Field artillerymen don’t turn away work. Artillery is never in reserve. The only reason for its existence is to provide firepower in support of other MAGTF (Marine air ground task force) elements. Accordingly, nonstandard missions can be contrived for any circumstance. The zeal to be creative and responsive, however, must be tempered. The artillery whole can be greater than the sum of its parts only through the combat multiplying effects of massing and adroit centralized control. The use of the label nonstandard serves as a useful speed bump for the dangers connected with ad hoc mission assignments.

Attachment

Attachment is not a standard artillery mission. There are circumstances that dictate that the artillery be attached out, but the assumption must be that support cannot be provided by revising the standard mission of other artillery units. A single stalled or ambushed artillery battery is of little use to anyone. Units with attached artillery have acquired new administrative and logistic support burdens that they are rarely qualified or prepared to meet.

Characteristics Needed for Maneuver

Warfare

If artillery is to provide proper support in a maneuver style of warfare, there are several characteristics or considerations that must be emphasized. Some of these, although neither apparent nor of interest to the casual spectator, are of overriding importance to artillerymen and the maneuver element they support. These considerations and characteristics are summarized below:

Centralized Control

As history has proved repeatedly, in peacetime there is too much field artillery. In maneuver combat of the future, field artillery will be a precious asset (at least on our side) that must be conserved and applied judiciously by the force commander to shape outcomes and promote decision. If we are to be successful, I believe more centralized control than we habitually practice in peacetime will be required. The force commander’s expression of centralized control is best attained through use of GS/GSR standard missions for the field artillery.

Surprise Fires

In maneuver warfare the field artillery displaces at night and into unexpected positions. Registrations will be rare in hopes that maintaining silence until commitment will promote surprise. Reliance will be placed instead on use of atmospheric data and individual velocity characteristics of the field pieces. These common gunnery practices can enable first round accuracy without sacrificing surprise. Finally, the ground will be organized to permit the attack of targets with a minimum of radio communications. Wire will predominate where physically possible.

Attack of Targets

Artillery in maneuver settings should be fired in battery and battalion volleys rather than after an adjustment phase. This practice is parallel to the logic of the superior effect of surprise fires previously discussed. Besides the scientifically demonstrated increase in effectiveness, a rule to fire only in battery and battalion volley provides a degree of self-control. Hard criteria must be consciously addressed by the force commander and set forth in attack guidance before the field artillery is employed. Is the target worth attacking at all considering betrayal of field artillery positions? Is the amount of ammunition expended consistent with the force commander’s intent and anticipated future needs? These are hard questions, but the answers for them provide the force commander the controls he needs to shape outcomes.

Mass

All available artillery in maneuver warfare will be focused in short, unexpected, and violent preparations in order to promote maneuver. Further, every effort will be made to mass the field artillery with every other arm available. This massing includes mortars, aviation (to include theater assets), armor, and naval gunfire. The Soviet-style “fire sack” will be employed to freeze the enemy, as an economy of force measure, or to divert him.

Control Measures

Maneuver warfare abhors control measures because all control measures restrict thinking and maneuver. Artillery understands this. Accordingly, the normal tapestry of unit boundaries and fire support coordination measures, which festoon overlays, may be absent. Coordination will be conducted from the “front,” regardless of direction. The field artillery commanders will be in the Alice packs of committed maneuver commanders at critical moments to clear the fog of war and to bring fire support to bear. This is particularly true of field artillery that can be focused for support of the main effort.

Contemporary thinking on maneuver warfare has its origins in the German experience in the “great offensive” of the closing days of World War I. The same German artillery that spent the first part of the war engaged in a futile battle of attrition was employed by the German General Staff as the linchpin for the infiltration tactics, which many regard as the forerunner of today’s maneuver warfare. The German artillerymen under the centralized control of the brilliant Col Georg Bruchmuller used scientific principles to improve accuracy and effectiveness. Preparations were shortened and made more violent. Gas was used. Otherwise, the field artillery in material and philosophy of support to the infantry was identical to that available to the German Army before the new tactics were introduced. The field artillery available to Marines today relates to maneuver concepts in almost exactly the same way. USMC

Communications and Maneuver Warfare

by Col John R. Moore

Much has been written in professional journals and military literature about maneuver warfare, its theories, its orientation, and its dynamic approach to the business of warfighting. The Marine Corps has in particular adopted it as operational philosophy. One needs to look no further than works like OH 6-1, The Ground Combat Element, or the latest publication, FMFM 1, Warfighting, to see the truth in this last statement. However, the role of communications and its relationship to maneuver warfare have not been examined or discussed anywhere in these and other publications.

An old saw says “Congress makes them generals, but communications makes them commanding generals.” Nowhere is this more true than in maneuver warfare, which emphasizes upfront leadership, independent action, and situational awareness. Maneuver warfare requires a new approach to tactical communications. This article seeks to provide some useful ideas about that as Marines pick up the banner of maneuver warfare and march off into the 21st century.

Today’s communications equipment can barely keep up with the initial demands of maneuver warfare, let alone the fast-paced actions certain to emerge in the future. VHF/FM radios, the mainstay of the units conducting maneuver warfare, have been in service since the Vietnam era. The promised replacement, SINCGARS (single channel ground and airborne radio system), languishes in fiscal “never-never land.” The VRC-12 series of VHF radios has just had its service life expectancy extended to 1998. Age breeds maintenance problems and a lack of reliability. Lack of reliability restricts the commander engaged in the freeflowing kind of warfare envisioned by the maneuverist. Other equipment items are not mobile enough to keep up with rapidly displacing units and command posts. The size, complexity, and length of the logistic train frequently eliminate the use of other equipment. Command posts (CPs) designed around World War I tentage are not conducive to emerging doctrinal concepts.

Any new approach to tactical communications requires an examination of communications from the viewpoint of the commander and his staff. The relationship between the commander and his communicator, the bureaucracy that produces communications equipment, and the system that educates commanders and communicators need also to be parties to this examination. Only when we have brushed the dust and mold from our doctrine and the inertia and lack of awareness from our headquarters can communications begin to support maneuver warfare.

The commander and his staff must approach communications as both a limiting factor and as a force multiplier. Communications as a factor limiting maneuver warfare should be obvious. While the tenets of maneuver warfare urge the commander to command from the front and not to be confined to his CP, if the commander cannot communicate, he cannot control, regardless of the principles of maneuver warfare. The commander and his communicator must be acutely aware of the communications environment created by every scheme of maneuver.

As a force multiplier, a properly designed and supported communications system allows the commander to take advantage of the tactical situation, revise his task organization, and pursue an advantage momentarily offered. Communications is too important to be left only to the communicator; the commander and his staff must become proficient users of their communications system, understanding the capabilities and limitations of the equipment they employ. The days of handing the problem over for the communicator to solve must never return. Maneuver warfare requires reliable communications for “recon pull” and other techniques and tactics to work against the surfaces and gaps it creates. Exercises can succeed in the face of poor communications; armed warfare cannot.

It is also useful to view the command and control system at every level as composed of a series of “range rings,” much like the range rings of concern to a fire support coordinator. Beyond certain distances commanders cannot communicate with any degree of reliability. These range rings of communications may pose unavoidable iimilations on the commander that, in turn, may cause him to revise his scheme of maneuver. The commander must also realize that his commander is also making the same estimate and will want to increase the radius of his own communications rings. But the laws of physics are inflexible; no amount of badgering or ignoring will change or modify them. The commander goes beyond his communications range at his own peril. Just as the wise commander does not exceed his span of control, the wise commander does not exceed his communications range.

Maneuver warfare places unusual requirements on the unit communications officer in lerms of organization, equipment techniques, and leadership. No longer can the communications officer be content, or be forced, to chase the arrows of up and down radio nets. He must think in terms of his frontage, the location of his units today and tomorrow, his commander’s intent, and his own personnel and equipment. No longer can he afford the coffee-drinking, bean-counting, business-as-usual approach to communications that the less demanding requirements of static operations allowed in the past. Maneuver warfare requires the communications officer to train his noncommissioned officers (NCOs) to solve today’s problems, while his staff noncommissioned officers (SNCOs) prepare for tomorrow, and he prepares for the day after tomorrow. The communications officer must anticipate his commander’s intent through careful coordination with the staff, frequent liaison visits, briefings of the commander and his operations officer, and learning the spirit of the unit. The communicator’s focus of effort must be his commander’s information requirements.

The communications officer must be both a leader and a manager. As a leader he must learn to do the correct thing, while as a manager of a multimillion dollar inventory he must learn to do things correctly. The communications officer must know the details of his equipment, but must not let himself become only a technician. He must be a generalist as well, aware of the environment about him, its requirements, its spirit, its philosophy, and his commander’s intent. The communications officer must be able to understand the tactics of the G/S-3, the logistics of the G/S-4, the control measures of the fire support coordinator, and, most importantly, the intent and focus of effort of his commander.

While he leads his Marines in their usually unheralded duties, the communications officer must also manage the communications system. he must be able to translate the plans and intent of his commander into the realities of frequencies, call signs, nets, links, and circuits; yet he cannot let himself become bogged down in the details of today’s battle. Hopefully his Marines have trained to function this way long before it was required. This also presumes that the commander has allowed his communicator time to train his Marines in their speciality.

The ability of communications to support maneuver warfare directly depends upon the suitability, reliability, and appropriateness of its equipment. Maneuver warfare requires smaller, better, lighter, cheaper, and more capable equipment than in the past. Only when equipment developers and maintainers recognize that the Fleet Marine Force (FMF) must live and die with their mistakes can communications begin to support maneuver warfare. The current process of developing, fielding, and maintaining equipment only marginally supports the FMF. Communications equipment in the inventory today was designed in the 1970s, based on 1960s experience, funded with 1980s money, and will probably be poorly supported by the fiscal realities of the 1990s. Some of this equipment no longer meets the needs of commanders who rapidly displace, operate on the move, and communicate only when absolutely necessary. The communicator and his commander are being promised and fed sophisticated equipment that will not last nor be used on a fastmoving battlefield. The emphasis seems to be on the complex and the complicated at the expense of the simple and the reliable. In addition, training is not in synch with equipment fielding due to funding delays, training delays, and the lack of an integrated approach. One year after the recent reorganization of the development, acquisition, and support organizations, the situation has not measurably improved. No equipment should be fielded until the FMF can use it. Equipment complexity is another issue that does not need to be repeated here. Communications equipment must be designed to be operated by a fighting Marine, not by a graduate engineer.

Professional schools must also approach maneuver warfare with the view that communications can support or cripple the commander’s intent. The curriculums of our professional schools must teach not only the technical details of communications, but also the effective use of the communications system, the system that carries information. The staff officer who routinely demands that historical reports be transmitted with immediate precedence and who complains that his messages are not getting through obviously does not understand the limitations of the system. The schools must teach students to distinguish between information that is indispensable and that which is nice to have. Information cannot be routinely demanded-the use of filters, areas of interest and influence, liaison officers, and key indicators must all be used to tailor the information for the commander.

Our schools must also teach that decisions must be made at the lowest possible level, that information flows up and down the chain of command; that headquarters and command elements need to actively search for information rather than rely on reports; and that electrical communications should be used only for information that is critical in nature and time-sensitive in urgency. Finally, organizational techniques, task organization, supervisory management, and battlefield leadership must be taught lest the student not have the time to develop and grow on his own.

Communications can support maneuver warfare if there is a desire to excel, a positive outlook, and a systems approach to problems. Realistic expectations and awareness of equipment capabilities and limitations will do a lot to reduce both perceived and actual communication problems. Only when the commander and his communicator understand this and use their communications assets intelligently will the true potential of maneuver warfare be realized.

Critique of FMFM 1, Warfighting

by LtCol Edward J. Robeson IV

The latest doctrinal publication from the Warfighting Center is now on the street. Appropriately enough, it is entitled Warfighting. It is an excellent document-short, concise, lively, and even easy to read. It has much to commend it. However, there are also several specific areas that I believe could be improved. If you have your copy with you, you might want to examine the following passages with me.

* On pages 3-4, last line:

“Nations not at war with one another can be said to be at peace. However, absolute war and peace rarefy exist in practice. Rather, they are extremes between which exist the relations among most nations.”

Problem. Earlier on this page, war is defined as “a state of hostilities that exists between or among nations, characerized by the use of military force.” Using this definition, peace becomes the absence of war, or a state in which hostilities do not exist between nations and military force is not used. Page 4 elaborates that war “may range from intense clashes between large military forces-backed by an official declaration of war-to covert hostilities which barely reach the threshold of violence.” However, if war is a state of hostilities, which is the traditional definition, then a declaration of war is required to alter the peacetime state between nations. War does not, by definition, require conflict, it simply alters the state between nations. Also, traditionally, absolute peace has not been defined as only the absence of war, but also the absence of conflict. Our new FMFM, probably for the sake of emphasizing “warfighting,” has stood these normal definitions on their heads. While the Marine Corps steered close to this when it published the Small Wars Manual, it saved being contradictory through the use of the modifier “small,” thus making at least one additional category between war and peace. In fact, that manual specifically stated that small wars covered the spectrum from merely demonstrative actions all the way up to extensive conflicts, short of war.

Recommended Resolution. Change the last line on page 3 and the following paragraph to read:

Nations not at war with one another, however, cannot be said to be at peace, for absolute peace, the absence of both war and any conflict, is extremely rare. The need to resort to military force of some kind may arise routinely in the affairs between nations, even when a state of war does not exist. Thus, for our purposes, we understand the broad and continuing utility of military forces apart from time of war. We must be prepared to execute national policy by imposing our will on the enemy at any level, from using intense clashes between large military forces-backed by an official declaration of war-through conducting or countering covert hostilities which barely reach the threshold of violence.

* On page 12, 1st full paragraph:

“Leaders must study fear, understand it, and be prepared to cope with it. . . . Strong leadership which earns the respect and trust of subordinates can limit the effects of fear.”

Problem. While somewhat semantical, it seems important to specify accurately what it is that we really want to learn. We should be studying that. We do not want to learn fear. We want to learn courage. To do this, we need to study how men, who were placed in situations where they could have fallen prey to their fears, did not.

Recommended Solution. Change the two sentences cited to read:

Leaders must study courage, understand its moral and physical roots, and be prepared to exhibit it. . . . Demonstrating strong, tactically proficient and concerned leadership in difficult situations is the essence of courage. It will earn the respect and trust of subordinates and can even limit the effects of fear and inspire courage in them.

* On pages 19-20, paragraph 2, 5th line and paragraph 3:

” . . . As the policy aims of war may vary . . . so must the application of violence vary in accordance with those aims . . . When the policy motive of war is intense, such as the annihilation of an enemy, then policy and war’s natural military tendency toward destruction will coincide, and the war will appear more military and less political in nature. On the other hand, the less intense the policy motive, the more the military tendency toward destruction will be at variance with that motive, and the more political and less military the war will appear.”

Problem. First, we have the earlier problem of a faulty definition of “war”, when “conflict” would have been a better and broader term. Second, we don’t want to run the risk of abdicating our responsibility to continue to inform our political masters that we are not chameleons. What we have been structured, manned, and trained to do, we do very well; but we cannot do well the things we are not designed to do, and we shouldn’t try to do them. While our ability to apply force covers a broad spectrum, and can be “sized,” we should not agree to the concept of “an application of violence” as if we were discussing coats of paint of varying hues and intensities. At the point of application, for his own safety, we should never ask a Marine to diminish his level of violence other than the constraints placed on him by the law of war. Next, “annihilation of the enemy” cannot be our policy aim in war, as that would violate both the laws of war and genocide. We can have a policy aim of unconditional surrender, but we can go no further either legally or morally. Lastly, wars always appear to be completely political in nature. Sometimes the political instrument to force a favorable conclusion in wars and conflicts is military force.

Recommended Resolution. Change the sentences to read:

As the policy aims of a conflict may vary from defending national interests from aggression to requiring the complete capitulation of the enemy, so the military forces brought to hear should be organized to best support that policy . . . . However, we should never assent to artificial constraints that would attempt to use military forces in nonmilitary ways. We should never neuter our Marine’s responsibility to defend himself and his comrades. The introduction of military forces should be clearly understood to imply that violence will result unless the opponent acquiesces to our national policy aims, and the forces introduced should be organized to successfully carry out that assignment with absolute resolve if required.

* Pages 28 and 29:

Problem. These pages, when combined with the statement on page 30 that the United States (and by inference the Marine Corps) has traditionally conducted war by attrition, seem to be an attack on our history. It is as if we must demonstrate that we were getting it all wrong in the past and that we need to radically change to get it right in the future. Surely, with our past record of success, we don’t need to agree so quickly that all of our predecessors were so unaccomplished. It would do us well to tread lightly when we call into question those already in Valhalla. The past giants of the Corps might not agree that all warfare can simply be dumped into one of two piles, i.e., that it is either “attrition style” or “maneuver style,” and that they belong in the first pile. If we have been such attritionists in our past, then what style did Lt O’Bannon use in his indirect approach to Tripoli? How did we fight in our flanking engagements along the approaches to Mexico City and Chapultepec? What tactics did we apply in World War I once the trench stalemate was broken late in the war? How did we operate in Central America in the “small wars” years? Why did we place a ring around Rabaul in the Pacific, bypassing and cutting off units whenever possible? What was our scheme at Inchon, Chosin, and elsewhere? What of DEWEY CANYON and many other operations in Vietnam? To record the results of engagements in concrete terms, i.e., men and equipment destroyed, does not necessarily make one a mindless “attritionist.” In our entire history, it would be very difficult to find a single competent Marine commander who simply bloodied his men on every occasion. Yes, maneuver is a vital component, but maneuver alone will not necessarily dislocate a professional opponent. He may choose to leave one position in order to gain a better position, but if we want to take something of value from any enemy commander worth his salt, we’d better be prepared for the killing to start.

Recommended Resolution. Rewriting these two pages would not be difficult. We could emphasize that, although all warfare uses both fire and maneuver, commanders greatly improve their chances of success when they apply these two concepts simultaneously rather than sequentially, and at a higher tempo than their opponent. While superiority in men and equipment is always desirable, military competence can overcome raw numbers in many instances. The goal is not just to apply our strength against enemy weaknesses. Instead it is to discern exactly where to focus our efforts to prevent enemy success and ensure our own. While the precise intelligence needed to guarantee this may be lacking, a high tempo of operations combined with well-trained Marines will greatly assist the more competent commander in destroying the enemy’s cohesion, command and intelligence links and psychological balance. This will eventually expose the enemy’s vitals to our attack and subsequent exploitation. We could do justice to our grand heritage by showing that our desire to “fight smart” in the 1990s is simply continuing our tradition of adapting new, more capable, flexible, and lethal means to the task at hand on the battlefield.

* On Page 29, 1st full paragrah, lines 9-10:

“While attrition operates principally in the physical realm of war, the results of maneuver are both physical and moral.”

Problem. This statement seems to contradict the statement on p. 13, “. . . the greatest effect of fires on the enemy is generally not the amount of physical destruction they cause, but the effect of that physical destruction on his moral strength.”

Recommended Resolution. Change to read:

Slow, methodical, or predictable operations will not maximize the effect of our combat power on the enemy. We need to see the importance of dislocating him both physically and psychologically. In this way, we can simultaneously erode his moral strength and his physical control of his units, opening him up to defeat in detail.

* On page 35, 2d paragraph, lines 1-6 3d paragraph, lines 1-4:

“We obviously stand a better chance of success by concentrating strength against enemy weakness rather than against strength. So we seek to strike the enemy where, when, and how he is most vulnerable. This means that we should generally avoid his front, where his attention is focused and he is strongest. . . . Of all the vulnerabilities we might choose to exploit, some are more critical to the enemy than others. It follows that the most effective way to defeat our enemy is destroy that which is most critical to him.”

Problem. First we have the problem of concentrating strength against weakness. Unless that concept is carefully explained, “going where the enemy isn’t” can become a goal that simply uses resources and dissipates combat power in an area that the enemy has already decided to cede to you. We, therefore, go where he wants us to, expending time and effort better placed elsewhere. Traditionally, we have spoken of concentrating our combat power at the decisive point, rather than against weakness. The decisive point will usually be strong, but it is where the battle will be decided, and we intend to mass there faster and win quickly. A more serious problem, however, is the presumption that we will face an incompetent enemy. Who else would not recognize and strongly defend his “most critical vulnerability?” I don’t believe that we can assume that we can have it both ways, that we will always be able to go for his “gaps” and still go for his most critical vulnerability.

Recommended Resolution. Change the sentences in the 2d paragraph to read:

We obviously stand the better chance of success if we use the offensive advantages of initiative and surprise, and mass our combat power more quickly than our enemy, striking him while he is still vulnerable at our selected point of decision. Because forces are usually oriented along a particular axis in the defense, we should generally avoid his front, where his attention is focused and he is strongest . . .

* On pages 62-63, last line:

“We believe that implicit communication-to communicate through mutual understanding using a minimum of key, well-understood phrases . . .”

General Comment. This statement is understated in my opinion. Almost nothing is more important to the success of maneuver warfare principles than a common tactical vocabulary. We should all be very careful to guard against any trend to move away from standard terminology. We should never allow common tactical terms to be subverted through the assignment of alternative meanings or multiple meanings. If mission orders are to succeed, we must be absolutely merciless in maintaining a common vocabulary of tactical terms in the Corps. We must have a minimum of key, well-understood phrases that everyone understands without any additional explanation. When the formal schools at MCCDC (Marine Corps Combat Development Command) change tactical terms, the entire Marine Corps needs to know simultaneously, not through conversations with recent graduates. Homemade or special phrases that are not generally understood will not, in my opinion, stand the test of combat where a subordinate may have to carry on the mission due to casualties.

* On page 64, last paragraph, lines 3-4:

“We must not try to maintain positive control over subordinates since this will necessarily slow our tempo and inhibit initiative.”

Problem. Standing alone, this sentence could be misunderstood, it would be a mistake to equate “positive control” with “interference in internal affairs of a subordinate.” I don’t believe that we really want to agree that “positive” control is necessarily negative. Positive control in my mind, is that level of control that the commander needs to exert to ensure mission accomplishment. It varies from very general guidance to detailed instructions and is based upon the personality and experience of the subordinate commander and the capability of his particular unit.

Recommended Resolution. Change the sentence to read:

We must not attempt to overcontrol our subordinates, since that could slow their tempo and inhibit their initiative.

* On page 70,3d paragraph, lines 7-10:

“We leave the manner of accomplishing the mission to the subordinate, thereby allowing him the freedom-and establishing the duty-to take whatever steps he deems necessary based upon the situation.”

Problem. This is a terrific statement, but there should be an exceptional clause somewhere. The higher commander, like a pool player, may need to ensure that his cue ball is positioned correctly for his next move after this one has been completed. It does matter whether backspin was used or not, even if that first ball goes into the pocket. This could be covered by broadening commander’s intent, or by being slightly less free in mission tactics, but it needs to be considered.

Recommended Resolution. Change the: sentence to read:

While there may be an occasion to prescribe where a subordinate’s unit must end up following his present task in order to ensure a proper alignment for the next contemplated mission, it would be inappropriate to unnecessarily reduce any subordinate’s tactical flexibility. In fact, it is important to leave the manner of accomplishing the immediate mission to the subordinate commander.

* On page 73, 2d paragraph, lines 2-8:

“. . . Since the focus of effort represents our bid for victory, we must direct it against that object which will cause the most decisive damage to the enemy and which holds the best opportunity of success. It involves a physical and moral commitment, although not an irretrievable one. It forces us to concentrate decisive combat power just as it forces us to accept risk. Thus, we focus our effort against critical enemy vulnerabilities, exercising strict economy elsewhere.”

General Comment. It is particularly cheering that the term “point of main effort” is not mentioned in this passage, nor is there any mention of “strength against weakness.” It would also be wrong to characterize our Marines in the supporting attack as somehow giving less than their main effort. After all, depending upon relative success, the focus could shift to them anyway. “Focus” is a much better term than “point of main effort” because it implies concentration, mass, coordination, combined arms, etc. This paragraph is one of the best in the book.

* Page 74, 1st paragraph:

“Put simply, surfaces are hard spots-enemy strengths-and gaps are soft spots-enemy weaknesses. We avoid enemy strength and focus our efforts against enemy weakness, since pitting strength against weakness reduces casualties and is more likely to yield decisive results. Whenever possible, we exploit existing gaps. Failing that, we create gaps.”

Problem. There seems to be an inherent contradiction here. While it is clearly stated that we avoid enemy strengths, there is also the recognition that it may not be possible to do so if we are to achieve any kind of decisive result, so we may have to “create a gap.” While the enemy may shift his forces and expose a gap due to other initiatives we undertake, the only way we can create one directly is by attacking a “surface.” However, we have been enjoined not to do this.

Recommended Resolution. Delete all references to “surfaces and gaps” and discuss “soft spots” or “exploitation opportunities.” Particularly annoying is the use of the word “gap.” Not only does it already have a useful tactical meaning as an area in a defensive scheme that cannot be covered by either direct fire or observation, but here it loses any preciseness in definition.

In summary, this is our latest doctrinal book. The Commandant did not mince any words about how he wanted it to be read, studied, and applied. To do this, we need to get the document right not just in general terms, but also in each particular phrase. It is my opinion that, with a few relatively minor exceptions, we have done that. Perhaps best of all are the benefits that will accrue to the Corps as we discuss, seek to understand, and rally around our latest common frame of reference for warfighting.

Our Warfighting Philosophy

by LtCol Jeffrey J. Lloyd, USMCR

The Commandant describes FMFM 1 as his philosophy on warfighting and exhorts “every officer to read-and reread-this book, understand it, and take its message to heart.” It delivers a new doctrine in a document so imbued with the Commandant’s personality that in another society it might have been titled “The Thoughts of Chairman Gray.” By delivering it with the force of a papal bull. Gen Gray has sent heretics diving for cover, but some mild dissent persists.

The stated purpose of Warfighting is to describe, on an authoritative basis, a Marine Corps philosophy for the preparation and conduct of war. The book is written in a succinct, readable style, which is all too rare in offical prose. In the entire publication there is but a single acronym-MAGTF for Marine air-ground task force. This brevity and clarity are achieved, however, with the aid of serious omissions. Not only does our mandated mission (part of Title 10, U.S. Code) go unprinted, but also our particular abilities go unmentioned. We have published a book on “how we fight” that does not include the word “amphibious.”

Despite such omissions, Warfighting is no radical thesis. Most of its small pages are devoted to preaching to the choir. Although it may eschew many traditional phrases, it reinforces many traditional values. Most notably it states in clear terms a philosophy of commander-subordinate relations that recognizes the importance of individual experience in leadership development.

Maneuver Warfare

Most of the controversy springs from Warfighting‘s final chapter-“The Conduct of War.” This section constitutes a tract on maneuver warfare likely to capture the imagination of those budding Napoleons who presume that they will be the maneuverers. Its praiseworthy emphasis on individual initiative may even result in a flourishing of original thought. As it presently reads, however, it may also be construed as advocating a form of tactical shadowboxing.

That isn’t what Warfighting means to be about. In a footnote it quotes Clausewitz:

Kind-hearted people might, of course, think (here is some ingenious way to disarm or defeat an enemy without too much bloodshed, and might imagine this is the true goal of the art of war. Pleasant as it sounds, it is a fallacy that must be exposed: war is such a dangerous business that the mistakes which come from kindness are the very worst . . . .

Gen Gray and his maneuver warfare band aren’t talking about shadowboxing. What they are striving for is the tactical equivalent of a karate punch. Warfighting, however, fails to make this key point. It fails to mention the aggressive end sought by the maneuver, the ultimate mission of Marines, “to close with and destroy the enemy by fire and close combat.” Instead it defines maneuver warfare, in terms of its own success, as follows:

Maneuver warfare is a warfighting philosophy that seeks to shatter the enemy’s cohesion through a series of rapid, violent, and unexpected actions which create a turbulent and rapidly deteriorating situation with which he cannot cope.”

I have read, and reread, that definition and it still sounds a lot like “dazzle’em ’til they drop.” Might not some reader be seduced into thinking “there was some ingenious way to disarm or defeat the enemy without too much bloodshed”? Warfighting seems so determined to underline its differences with traditional philosophy, that it fails to adequately recognize areas of common ground. Add to these omissions a few questionable concepts and practices and you have more than ample fuel for controversy.

Sun Tzu

Maneuver warfare traces its roots back to the ancient Chinese concept of cheng and ch’i:

The enemy, engaged by the cheng (orthodox) force was defeated by the ch’ (unorthodox, rare, wonderful) force. . . . the normal pattern was a holding or fixing effort by the cheng, while ch’i groups attacked the deep flanks and rear. Distraction assumed great importance, and the enemy’s communications became a primary target.”

Sun Tzu was the personification of this tradition. He has also become maneuver warfare’s favorite authority. In this later role he can be misleading.

Samuel Griffith, author of Sun Tzu, The Atr of War, notes that Sun Tzu “did not conceive the object of military action to be the annihilation of the enemy’s army, destruction of his cities, and the wastage of his countryside.” In Sun Tzu’s feudal age his goal was to overawe and assimilate his opponents whenever possible. That may not be as feasible today, but a modern American saying seems to be cousin to the concept of cheng and ch’i . We call it “Hold ’em by the nose and kick ’em in the rear.” To my mind, the kick is the whole point of the maneuver.

OODA

The observation-orientation-decision-action cycle (OODA loop) was in many ways the right idea at the right time to attract serious attention. The time was the late seventies, which saw the advent of the all-volunteer force, a growing Soviet threat, and a political fondness for military bashing. It is no surprise that strategists and tacticians were at work on ways to “fight outnumbered and win.”

The OODA loop concept supposedly grew out of an observation made by a fighter pilot while dogfighting to the effect that success would follow automatically whenever the enemy was forced to think too much and too fast to maintain his orientation. Analogies with successful ground tactics were discovered, which led back to Sun Tzu and became the basis for the new philosophy of maneuver warfare.* Fighter tactics can prove difficult, however, to transfer to land combat where “flying by the seat of your pants” is likely to be a fatal experience. As Napoleon states in his Maxims of War, “When you determine to risk a battle, reserve to yourself every possible chance of success.”

Maneuver warfare is so concerned with being able to “fight outnumbered and win” it sometimes forgets that fighting outnumbered is precisely the challenge we seek to give our enemies. Gen Nathan B. Forrest, CSA, was the maneuver specialist of his day. He said the key to victory was simple. “I always make it a rule to get there first with the most men.”

Maneuver Versus Attrition

The most disagreeable aspect of Watfighting is its penchant for depicting maneuver warfare as one of but two options in a maneuver warrior (good guy) versus attrition (bad guy) debate. To the extent that it supports this fiction of two camps, it ill serves its readers.

Warfighting alludes to the fact that different styles of war can exist simultaneously. At the reader’s level of combat, maneuver may not be an option. Lord Nelson, in his instructions to the fleet for the battle of Trafalgar, outlined his intended plan of maneuver in some detail. But he also noted “in case signals can neither be seen or perfectly understood no captain can do very wrong if he places his ship alongside the enemy.”

No style of warfare is appropriate to all occasions. The overriding rule of warfare is “whatever works.” Our book of doctrine should make clear that the principles of war remain unchanged and unchallenged. The emphasis on maneuver doesn’t negate old tactics. Nor is it a license for recklessness. Rather, it is a demand for competency of each unit leader.

After Maneuver Warfare

Maneuver warfare stresses the importance of several principles in the hope that their use will enhance our opportunities for success against a numerically superior force. One of its advantages is that it would accomplish this by drawing on a (raditional Marine strength-the flexibility and initiative of our unit leaders.

The “strategy of competitive advantage” is intended to systematically identify and exploit differences between our forces and potential foes. Instead of trying to match potential adversaries force on force, it calls for finding easy means to degrade his strengths while concentrating our efforts on exploiting his weaknesses. Since the seventies, new technologies and new political environments have emerged that have changed the face of potential conflict.

It is said, with some truth, that generals are always preparing for the last war. Does Warfighting break that trend or is it merely a prescription for “fighting outnumbered to win” in a ground combat in Europe that seems less and less likely? Every doctrine, every technique, and every weapon needs the scrutiny of fresh minds. As Albert Einstein said, “the important thing is not to stop questioning.”

Conclusion

Eric Bentley has said that “ours is the age of substitutes: instead of language we have jargon; instead of principles, slogans; and instead of genuine ideas, bright ideas.” Warfighting defies that description. It is a breezy, thoughtprovoking, almost jargonless little gem. But it is not necessarily right, and it is certainly not the end. Instead it is a starting point on a new way of thinking about Marine Corps doctrine.

It’s already time to begin on the new gospel-Change 1 to FMFM 1, a doctrine that reasserts our traditional foundations by putting more fight into Warfighting. Our book on “how we fight” should serve as a reminder that our version of cheng and ch’i does indeed conclude with a swift and powerful kick.

Note

* As noted by BGen F.P. Henderson (MCG, Jun89, p. 24), the Marine Corps was talking about SEDA, a sense-evaluate-decide-act cycle, at least as early as July 1971 well before maneuver warfare became popular.

The Great FMFM 1 Debate

by Capt John F. Schmitt

It seems that one of the most common criticisms of FMFM 1-and by association of maneuver warfare in general-is that it contains nothing new. Perhaps these critics read the Commandant’s keystone manual, Warfighting, expecting to be given some radical insight that would guarantee success in this heretofore uncertain business called war. Perhaps they were disappointed. Perhaps they listened to the “maneuverists,” civilian and Marine alike (of whom I am one), who advocate this entirely “new” way of doing things, but failed to see anything revolutionary.

And so, as if a reply in the negative were reason enough to repudiate the book and its doctrine, they ask the question “Is there anything new here?” The unequivocal answer is: “Yes and no.”

In purely conceptual terms, there is nothing new in Warfighting. War is one of the oldest of the endeavors of man: I suspect we ran out of truly original ideas on the subject a long time ago. In fact, most of the thoughts contained in Warfighting date back some 2,500 years, as those familiar with Sun Tzu’s The Art of War will recognize. In some cases, it has introduced modern terms-such as the OODA (observation-orientation-decision-action) loopto describe timeless principles. But the principles, generally, are just that: timeless. What is new is that, for perhaps the first time, Warfighting manages to weave these various ideas into a cohesive doctrine, and, also for the first time, we have made that doctrine official.

The maneuver advocates certainly cannot argue that the history of war has been one purely of brute strength and mindless attrition waged by Neanderthals-although certainly examples of this do exist. There have been maneuverists throughout the ages. In fact, it seems to me from my readings that the commanders who are recognized as the Great Captains of military history have generally waged war by maneuver. Whether by native intuition or extensive self-study, these men have generally come to the individual conclusion that maneuver is a superior way of making war. Winston Churchill observed that “nearly all battles which are regarded as masterpieces of the military art, from which have been derived the foundation of states and the fame of commanders, have been battles of maneuver.” Given this example, in absolute terms we might conclude again that there is nothing new to maneuver warfare. But these men are the true and rare geniuses of the military profession; considering the countless commanders on whose epauletted shoulders have rested the fates of nations, their numbers are infinitesimal.

It is cliche now to say that we should not attack an enemy frontally, but should envelop him instead. If this is true, and we all realize it, then in the defense we should all ignore our fronts and protect our flanks. So why is it in training we still protect our fronts to the neglect of our flanks, and yet our enemy generally persists in attacking us frontally? And why is it that we still achieve decisive victories by taking our enemy in the flank? Perhaps it is because, as Clausewitz said, “Everything in war is very simple, but the simplest thing is difficult.” It is one thing to appreciate a concept in principle but another entirely to be able to translate it into reality.

To those among us who can honestly claim membership in the elite company of Great Captains, FMFM 1 probably has nothing to say. To them Warfighting must seem a boring, although thankfully short, collection of platitudes. Certainly, such men are among us today. But we should not deceive ourselves; they are very few. What about the rest of us not gifted with the same clarity of vision?

Most of us, when we read Warfighting, will be struck by how obvious and simple its message appears to be. (This may be one cause of the disappointment of those who were perhaps expecting to be floored.) But how many of us can honestly say we would have practiced maneuver warfare naturally had we not read the book? How many of us even after reading Warfighting and criticizing its obviousness, will still miss the point? Some of us? Most of us? Unfortunately, far more than are willing to admit it. So, again, what about the rest of us?

There was a time not too long ago when maneuver warfare was being taught as “commonsense tactics.” There does in fact appear to be a certain common sensibility to the principles of maneuver warfare. But if these tactics are merely common sense, why do they need to be taught at all? Would not the average tactician apply them naturally? History has proven that these tactics are actually anything but common. Rather, they have been quite uncommon, reserved for the gifted few. The maneuver warfare advocates are simply trying to identify and formalize for the merely able among us what the geniuses seem to have grasped innately. Geniuses and true idiots will always be the exception to the rule, and we cannot hope to have much influence over their numbers (other than to give them the opportunity to demonstrate their true abilities). But we can strive to raise the general level of competence of the vast majority in between.

This explains in part why the maneuver warfare advocates like to cite the German example so often, ala Bill Lind, (to the distress of the numerous Germanophobes). The Germans were certainly not the only people to practice maneuver warfare. But they do seem to be the only ones who tried to institutionalize it. They spent a good deal of time and effort studying and writing about maneuver warfare (in the process establishing a vocabulary of hard-to-pronounce terms), and they very earnestly set about reforming their military establishment to support in every way their maneuver doctrine. As they met with a certain amount of success, we would do well to learn from their experience.

So in the absolute sense, the answer to our original question is that there is nothing new here. But this is no excuse for rejecting FMFM 1. The ideas that are the foundation of maneuver warfare are nearly as old as war itself and have been validated by history. The recognized geniuses of our profession generally gained their reputations by putting these ideas into practice. But as a group, we have not done things this way. Therefore, in the practical sense (which is the only sense that really matters in this most pragmatic of professions), the answer to our question is that there is something new here after all. Recognizing that most of us are not geniuses, the maneuver warfare advocates are simply trying to give the rest of us the same opportunity for success by formalizing what the geniuses have known all along.

Ultimately, the thing that scares me most about the mostly true “nothing new” argument is that from there it is a very short step to “This is the way we’ve always done things,” which is not true at all. From there it is another very short step to convincing ourselves that, since we have always done things this way, we do not need to try to get any better. And that is a very dangerous attitude indeed.

LAI: Light Armored Cavalry

by Capt Philip D. deCamp, USA

Winner of the 1989 Marine Corps Gazette Professional Writing Award for AWS Students

As the Marine Corps moves to refine its LAI concept and enhance its capability for independent mobility operation, it should turn to the lessons learned by the Army’s armored cavalry.

Although light armored infantry (LAI) battalions have been fielded and operational for sometime, LAI doctrine and employment continue to be debated. In the LAI concept, the Marine Corps has recognized the need for independent mobility operations in support of Marine tactical maneuver. This concept is well proven through history, and the Army’s armored cavalry has performed this role since World War II. As the Marine Corps refines its LAI concept, it should turn to lessons learned by the armored cavalry-the “masters of mobility”-as it refines the LAI organizational structure and operational concepts.

First, consider the relationship between the missions of the two units. Although the cavalry is capable of many missions, its contribution is best summed up in the following statement taken from a paper written a decade ago at the Armor Center at Fort Knox:

Cavalry fulfills three basic and closely related functions: reconnaissance, security, and economy of force. These traditional functions are inherent to warfare. They are valid on today’s battlefield and will still be valid on tomorrow’s. Some force must fulfill them, and the force that does so is cavalry, whether called so or not.

The LAI battalion, although not called cavalry, was specifically assigned these “inherent” cavalry functions in a recent change to OH 6-6:

The LAI battalion will conduct reconnaissance and security operations and economy of force missions in support of the Marine division or its subordinate elements, and within its capabilities the battalion can be employed in offensive or delaying actions that take advantage of its speed, mobility, and firepower.

How will the LAI battalion perform this cavalry role for the Marine division? Will it replace traditional Marine reconnaissance teams, deploying its own secret units deep behind enemy lines to report enemy preparations and movement? No! As a cavalry unit, the LAI will not only watch the enemy, it will engage him. In fighting for information, the LAI will make the enemy commander show his hand, either by sustaining the fight, committing reserves, breaking contact, or even by inaction. The LAI will obtain current battlefield information concerning enemy intent, giving the Marine operational commander the speed and flexibility necessary to operate within the enemy’s decision cycle. The chief of Armor’s Cavalry Branch explained this contribution to maneuver warfare in an article in Armor magazine (JanFeb86) as follows:

Cavalry [the LAI], by providing current combat information, facilitates a commander’s ability to seize and sustain the initiative and concentrate overwhelming combat power against the enemy at the decisive place and time.

To accomplish this mission on the mechanized battlefield, cavalry commanders, after dealing with constant attachments and detachments during World War II, were convinced that a cavalry unit needed to be a self-contained, combined arms organization. The cavalry platoon of the mid-1960s typified this concept by merging scouts, tanks, infantry, and mortars into a platoon-sized combined arms team. At the company level, an organic CSS structure gave the cavalry troop the capability to sustain itself independently. This organizational approach served well but standardization and endstrength eventually forced restructuring as show in Figures 1 and 2.

The new structure created separate scout and tank platoons, deleted organic infantry support, and emphasized only parts of the cavalry mission rather than the combined arms team. Furthermore, it required the division commander to augment the lighter divisional cavalry only as the mission required, adding units unfamiliar with cavalry operations into the complex cavalry scenario. The lessons learned by the 3d Armored Cavalry Regiment (3d ACR) at the National Training Center (NTC) indicate that this structure does not support the cavalry mission. Cavalry requires a fixed structure very similar to the earlier organization. Col Jarrett R. Robertson, commander of the 3d ACR, questions the task organization approach of giving organic cavalry units only a temporary capability to accomplish traditional cavalry roles:

The book says that if a [cavalry] unit requires such a capability, the division can beef up the squadron with maneuver companies. This solution will not work We learned that during WWII. That’s why we organized the type of cavalry units that we had in the 50s and 60s. The ability to blend scouts and tanks into an effective fighting force is a major training challenge. [Emphasis added.)

After his experience at the NTC, Col Robertson proposed the cavalry troop organization shown in Figure 3. Supported by the majority of armored cavalrymen, this structure once again integrates scouts, tankers, and infantrymen at platoon level and provides a substantial organic logistical package at troop level.

The Marine Corps’ LAI community can learn from the cavalry’s organizational mistakes. A combined arms LAI company similar to Col Robertson’s proposal is outlined in Figure 4. This self-contained LAI company, capable of operating independently and sustaining itself for some time, would give the Marine division the cavalry asset essential to maneuver warfare.

At platoon level, this proposal relates the LAI assault gun section to the cavalry tank section, since the roles of the two weapons are much the same in cavalry operations. The assault gun obviously is not a tank and is not designed to perform all tank missions. But, in its primary scout support role, the assault gun will perform the same mission the cavalry tank performs for Army scouts. The tank, with its high velocity main gun, provides instant fire support, enabling forward scouts to quickly disengage-a capability the TOW can’t provide. The assault gun, as a complement to the TOW-equipped antitank variant of the LAV, the LAVAT, will likewise support Marine scouts.

A similar relation consolidates scouts and assault gunners at platoon level. The cavalry platoon, before the recent reorganization, proved the advantages of blending separate specialties into a cohesive fighting team. As scouts, tankers, and infantrymen trained to fight together at the platoon level, intense cohesion developed. The supporting overwatch teams were dedicated to helping comrades in the forward areas, not only because of mission but because of personal commitment Thoroughly tested platoon standing operating procedures were well known and understood, and training exercises at every level practiced the combined arms concept Additionally, by bunking, eating, and socializing together, soldiers informally learned the missions and abilities of all parts of the combined arms team. It became second nature to predict actions of other elements when individual personalities became well known. Soldiers, motivated and encouraged to learn each other’s job, made duty interchangeability easy and effective, an advantage that enabled units to reorganize rapidly after high-casualty engagements and immediately continue the mission.

Will the new structure provide these advantages by training soldiers in the combined arms concept at every level? The new cavalry experience indicates not. The S-3 of the 3d ACR explains the difficulty of scout-tank coordination at the NTC:

The M1A1 proved essential to scout survivability. All too often, when the regiment mistakenly decoupled tanks and scouts, the scouts died swiftly…. 3d ACR scouts performing recon and security functions had limited survivability unless they operated with their associated tanks. The difficulty of maintaining this formation argues against the flippant response that tanks can be task organized into a cavalry structure when needed. Despite great effort, it was a continuous challenge to maintain effective tank/ scout coordination. [Emphasis added.]

By replacing “tank” with “assault gun” this statement will apply to the LAI cavalry team as well. Because of the complex nature of cavalry operations, all parts of the combined arms team must be well versed in fighting together. A fixed platoon task organization, in which the team always lives and fights together, is essential.

The only major difference between the Army and Marine platoon organizations is the infantry squad; the Marine platoon doesn’t get one. The Army’s M3 cavalry fighting vehicle (CFV) only dismounts two scouts, far too few to provide adequate dismounted security, thus the addition. The LAV-25 dismounts four, thus 16 LAI scouts are available to provide the dismounted support Furthermore, adding a separate infantry squad to the LAI platoon could require adding two LAV-25S or developing even another LAV variant, an LAV armored personnel carrier (LAV-APC). Although more infantry might well be useful, adding them is impractical at best.

To sustain these combined arms platoons, this proposal creates a large headquarters platoon, with the company executive officer (XO) as platoon commander. The heart of the platoon is the company headquarters section. Located in two LAV-25s it can move forward as necessary to fight the battle. The company commander and his fire support representatives man one LAV-25 while the second provides wingman support. In a change from the current organization, the company XO is not in this section. He heads up a new section created by the transfer of an LAV-C communications vehicle from the current battalion communications platoon.

This new LAV-C is the nucleus of a new communications section created to enhance one of the most important weapons of a scout-his radio. Since cavalry operations are by nature reporting operations, the Army cavalry has learned that information processing is vital to mission accomplishment. The XO, as the combat reporter, will remain in the LAV-C running the company’s tactical operations center (TOC). From the TOC he monitors the battle, submits reports, issues instructions, and acts as the company fire support coodinator, thus freeing the commander to fight the battle. An added communication chief and two radio repairmen provide the vital communications links. An armored high mobility, multipurpose wheeled vehicle (HMMWV) trails the LAV-C to provide two capabilities. First, it functions as a mobile communications contact vehicle to make quick repairs or exchange equipment as necessary. Second, it provides mobility for the XO enabling him to move to the front and take over the battle from one of the LAV-25s without endangering the LAV-C.

The modern equipment found in the LAI company requires detailed first- and second-echelon maintenance. In addition to operational and preventive maintenance, battle damage from swift and lethal engagements necessitates a large “on-the-spot” maintenance, recovery, and extraction capability at the unit level. A strong maintenance section, equipped with both a recovery LAV and a logistics LAV, is another vital asset These vehicles make heavy deliveries to stranded vehicles and support repair/recovery operations as needed. An armored HMMWV, acting as a maintenance contact team, checks battle damage and establishes priority of recovery and repair assignments.

As the LAI company fights for information, it will expend enormous amounts of supplies-especially classes III, IV, V, and IX. Extended movements, quickly changing missions, and engagements against numerically superior forces are only a few reasons for this heavy reliance on logistics. An organic company supply section, reporting directly to the LAI company commander, can tailor its support to the demands of the specific LAV mission. In the proposed organization, an LAVL logistics variant provides heavy supply transport while a HMMWV, probably manned by the company gunnery sergeant, allows for rapid coordination and delivery of smaller supplies.

A final addition to the LAI company brings the battalion mortars down to company level. A three-tube mortar section, firing from three mortar variants (LAV-Ms), will provide the LAI company the flexible and responsive indirect fire vital to security and reconnaissance operations. The Army cavalry community, embracing the independent combined arms team concept, has long recognized the necessity for substantial indirect fire at troop level. The requirement for responsive and specialized indirect fire in cavalry operations is so great that the Army cavalry squadron has an organic 155mm howitzer battery assigned as well. Although the Marine division artillery can’t be expected to likewise attach a battery to the LAI battalion, a company mortar section, operating in conjunction with direct support artillery, will give the LAI company the indirect fire support essential to independent operational maneuver.

The Marine Corps’ maneuver warfare concept places a premium on mobility and flexibility. As a descendant of the Horse Marines, the “Light Armored Cavalry” proposed here would have the inherent mobility to shift quickly to diverse roles anywhere on the battlefield. But like all historical cavalry units, a fixed combined arms LAI structure at company level is essential to achieving independent flexibility. The Marine Corps and the Army share many elements-infantry, armor, artillery, and aviation, to name a few. It’s time we share another element essential to land warfare, the cavalry, and use historical cavalry lessons to develop our current doctrine and organization. US MC

Stick With Maneuver

by Capt Francis G. Hoffman, USMCR

The series of three articles by LtCol Gary W. Anderson on enemy-oriented operations (MCG, Apr, Jun, Aug89) demonstrate a common but erroneous perception of maneuver warfare. While the basic characteristic of lowintensity conflict (LIC) is the absence of conventional military operations, it does not rule out application of maneuver-oriented planning and doctrine.

Perhaps this misperception is due to the connotation of “maneuver,” which has allowed many to associate the doctrine exclusively with mechanizedtype operations in the Delta Corridor. Or maybe it is because, as Maj Moore pointed out in his prize-winning Chase essay (MCG, Apr89), “The advocates of maneuver warfare have done a poor job of explaining their theory.”

Whatever the reason, the myth that maneuver doctrine is only applicable at the high end of the conflict spectrum should be quickly erased. Maneuver doctrine is not just for operations against Soviet bloc forces in a high-intensity scenario. The doctrine is based on the operational art and in its most basic aspects deals with the use of military means to achieve policy and military objectives. It is a way of thinking that drives the planning and execution of campaigns in pursuit of the attainment of strategic objectives. We have strategic and policy objectives that must be achieved across the spectrum of conflict and thus we need a doctrinal approach that is applicable across the same range of potential applications.

There are more tenets of maneuver warfare than the selective few that LtCol Anderson listed. For example, maneuver warfare is oriented toward chaotic and fluid environments. What is more chaotic and dynamic than counterinsurgency or stability operations? LtCol Anderson’s brief list omits the orientation against the moral and physical cohesion of the enemy. Maneuver doctrine, in this sense, might assist us in planning and executing counterterrorism or counternarcotic operations against terrorist groups or drug cartels.

The author also forgot to include those aspects of maneuver doctrine that call for shaping the battle. Security assistance operations, psychological operations, counterintelligence programs, and combined action programs can shape the nature of the conflict and the ability of the insurgent group to establish itself within the mainstream of the indigenous population. In this sense, the other tenets of maneuver warfare (focus of effort, surfaces and gaps, and state of mind) are also equally applicable to LIC.

In sum, I do not think we need a new approach as postulated by LiCol Anderson. Rather we need to refine and educate ourselves with the maneuver doctrine we already have. Furthermore, we need to seek ways to incorporate the tenets and principles of this doctrine in our daily business.