Where did the stuff go?

Hang on, guys. I'm doing some edits. Normally we hire expensive editing staffers to do this for us, but I spent all my flight pay on shoes, purses, and copies of COL Gian P. Gentile's book on strategic bombing and its impacts on current warfare.

C'est la vie.


Word,
Doctrinatrix

Happy 237th Birthday, Army!



Army Birthday festivities at Fort Leavenworth.
First, you little fatties will run... run like your life depends upon it.
Then, you will eat cake in a decisive manner.

Today I got a lovely letter from the 38th Chief of Staff of the Army, General Raymond T. Odierno. It was very nice. I felt motivated, which was ideal because I am getting ready to something that will require a great deal of motivation, sometimes false motivation: pack all my worldly possessions in boxes to prepare for a PCS move to Leavenworth.

This is what he wrote:

“Today, we celebrate the 237th birthday of our Army.

For 237 years, our Soldiers, Civilians and Families have been the strength of our Nation in peace and at war.

Today, America's Army is engaged in nearly 150 countries around the world, on 6 of 7 continents, with over 94,000 Soldiers deployed today and 94,000 forward stationed. Our Nation depends on its Army to defend the shores of our homeland, defeat enemy forces abroad, and help with recovery efforts in the wake of natural disasters.

We have the best equipped, best trained, and best led Army in history because of the 1.1 million professional Soldiers who serve in the Active Army, Army National Guard and Army Reserve, as well as the dedicated service of our Army Civilians. It is our Army's competence, adaptability, moral character, and resolute commitment that defines us as professionals and guarantees our long-standing sacred trust with the American people.

I'm proud of your accomplishments, your sacrifice, and your selfless dedication to our Army and to the Nation. Today, on its 237th birthday, we honor our Army and the remarkable men and women, past and present, who have embraced our Nation's call to service. Army Strong!”

I dig it. It’s got good sentiment. It’s a nice way to say “Happy Birthday” to the Army in a happy, motivational kind of way that includes all the key players in the Army. Thumbs up, sir. I would not have been able to write it without sarcasm. This is why I am not, nor will ever be, the 38th Chief of Staff of the Army. My Army birthday letter would sound something like this:

Today, we celebrate the 237th birthday of our Army. Hopefully with cake. Cake makes the threat of war an easier proposition to handle, after all.

For 237 years, our Soldiers, Civilians and Families have been fighting the righteous fight against tyrannical despots, communist oppressors, dictatorial lunatics, scallywags, mentally unbalanced nationalist socialists, ne’er do wells, dumpy little fascists, terrorists who smell like month-old camel a**, Decepticons, ruthless genocidal military leaders, and drug-pedaling warlords. To say the least, we’ve been busy.

Today, America's Army is engaged in nearly 150 countries around the world, on 6 of 7 continents. Not all of these places are fabulous. In fact, most of them are hot, dry, smelly wastelands, full of angry fanatics who would like to kill us and shutter all free thought and action. I promise in the future, we’ll start looking to some nicer locations for wars. I hear that those pesky Tahitians are getting uppity. Perhaps it’s time to lay the smack down, and celebrate with a cocktail on the beach? All in favor, put your reflective belts in the air and wave them ‘round like you just don’t care. Our Nation depends on its Army to defend the shores of our homeland, look damn sexy in a uniform, defeat enemy forces abroad, help little old ladies across busy streets, preserve the rights of humanity to live in a world without tyranny, and help with recovery efforts in the wake of natural disasters and Snooki breakups.

We have the best equipped, best trained, and best led Army in history because of the 1.1 million professional Soldiers who serve in the Active Army, Army National Guard and Army Reserve, as well as the dedicated service of our Army Civilians. That’s pretty much because we spend a lot of money on things that you may or may not get to us while you’re deployed. I know, you’d really like to bust out the expensive things we bought you right before you left your base for war, but we can’t risk losing it. It’s on the property book, you see. Nevertheless, your leadership seems to make do without all the resources we promise you but never quite get to you in a timely manner. Trust me, we’re working on that. It is our Army's competence, sense of humor, adaptability, willingness to live fetid squalor, resolute commitment, and strange Infantry man-love  bromance for each other that defines us as professionals and guarantees our long-standing sacred trust with the American people. Let’s leave the American people their illusions, shall we. If they really knew that, between the stressful and often frightening combat patrols, you were dancing and singing along with your squad-mates in your threadbare, rancid tighty whities to Madonna’s Like a Virgin, they’d be a little creeped out.

We are all proud of your accomplishments, your sacrifice, and your selfless dedication to our Army and to the Nation. You do it without question or hesitation. Considering that there are 22 year old civilians who can’t seem to make it to a job interview on time, and rely on their parents to arrange contract negotiations for them, you’re actually doing okay. Today, on its 237th birthday, we honor our Army. But we’re really honoring the remarkable men and women who are just doing a job, same as every other poor slob who clocks in at the office. Our job is a little tougher at times, but we do have certain perks.

Like today. On its 237th birthday, the Army should have the perk of cake, with “Army Strong” spelled out in butter cream frosting. Just sayin’.

Happy Birthday, Army! In the words of milblogger, Carl Prine, you don’t look a day over 236.

**PS. I just found out that the gentleman in the above shown picture, who appears to be enthusiastically brandishing a k-bar, is in fact BG Skip Davis (who is up for promotion to MG shortly). This does not change my opinion about cake, which is fabulous, but it makes me happy to know that there is a GO out there who feels as passionately about cake as I do. I also wonder about the apprehensive looks of the gentlemen he's leading towards the cake. Considering that Fort Leavenworth is the home of Army doctrine, they aren't making much of an effort at combined arms maneuver. Rock on, sir. Rock on.

Where is the Doctrinatrix?

Good question. I’m in the middle of preparing to depart Mother Rucker for the Intellectual Center of Nowhere, known as Fort Leavenworth. My own version of Hell is populated by endless levy briefings where they tell me everything I don’t need to know (about how to PCS to Germany) and nothing that I really do need to know (how to arrange for household goods pick up).

Aces.

So, between the levy briefs and clearing papers and the thrill of that last push to the end of my doctrine writing days (plus an APART thrown in for good measure), I’m off the net. If it makes you feel better, imagine me tooling around Sadr City in my trusty aircraft. Or you can imagine me toiling away at my desk in the Penthouse, slaving through chapter after chapter of aviation doctrine for my ruthless task masters.

More realistically, I’ll be chilling on Irish’s porch, discussing with her and Chicago the benefits of a pair of totally awesome 4 inch stilettos from Miu Miu.

Wish me luck. I’ll be back just as soon as they turn on the light at the end of the PCS tunnel… which I imagine happens after I turn in my clearing papers.

Doctrine doesn't fix everything.

Doctrine. It is the cause of, and solution to, all of my problems. I write good doctrine, I get praised and the terrorists lose. I write bad doctrine, and the terrorists win. My boss also does that silently-staring-because-I'm-disappointed-in-you thing. That’s actually worse than terrorists winning.

Often times we fall back to criticism of existing documents and doctrine as the reason for why things didn’t quite turn out as we expected. It’s as though we want doctrine to do for us what we refuse to do for ourselves: fill the gaps in knowledge that exist because... well... sometimes there is sh*t we just don't know. Pilots and aviation leaders want a comprehensive checklist solution to certain tactical problems that will be 99% effective in ensuring mission success, a placated ground force commander, joy, happiness, satisfied aircrews, puppies for all good little boys and girls, and a loaf in every oven. Doctrine just doesn’t work that way. It really doesn’t work that way for aviation.

Take manned- unmanned operations, for instance. The process of mixing unmanned aircraft and manned helicopters in reconnaissance tasks was a heavy topic on the list things to discuss at  the Aviation Synch Conference last week. The real gripes came from staff planners. Staffers rarely find the same level of joy in talking with other staffers that pilots find in talking to each other.  

And unfortunately, that’s the point at which air ground integration (AGI) tends to break down: the staff-to-staff communication.

So, if mission analysis and staff nug work is where AGI starts (in theory)… but it doesn’t (in reality)… then we should all simply give up now and start drinking.

I know. “But, Wings, it’s only noon and you’re flying this afternoon?” Spare me your AR 40-8 quotes, and save them for your APART. I’m an aviation doctrine writer. I have an escape clause in all Army Regulations.

In reality, the work load is double for aviators supporting ground forces in a COIN environment. Aviation is required to be familiar with their own impact on the ground force’s efforts in the local area of operations. In a COIN fight, we need to step up our game and be familiar with all aspects of the ground force commander’s intent. This is especially so for attack reconnaissance pilots. You have two masters, and you must ensure equal loyalty to both… no matter how much study and leg work you face. Lives and legitimacy depend upon it. It will take away from your time playing Call of Duty while waiting for a QRF launch. Bummer.

So, when the staff fails to truly integrate during mission analysis, it triples the work load of aircrews conducting air ground integration. You are, in a sense, picking up the slack for what your planners failed to provide. 

The majority of AGI breakdowns in planning occur at the brigade and battalion level. And, yet, there are tools a’plenty located at the BCT to facilitate this. The most crucial of these tools? The Brigade Aviation Element. Okay, I admit to being historically snarky against BAEs. On the other hand, some of the best people I know have worked in the element. These are guys who have actively pursued the advancement of aviation’s integration into the planning of all ground missions, especially the ones that would benefit from aerial fires. Not all forces get aviation support. Not all missions need an attack weapons team. Not all patrols get a pair of scouts. Not all named areas of interest get a Shadow loitering overhead. Not all cargo needs to be strapped to the floor of a Chinook. Aviation is not a panacea for every ill on the battlefield, but that should not stop the aviation staff from actively dialoguing with the ground planners. It should not stop the BAE from questioning whether a mission could be made stronger by the application of the right air resources at the right time.

When aviation allows itself to be marginalized at the staff and planning levels, it marginalizes its ability to project combat power. It willingly allows itself to remain as only an enabler, and then starts a self-deprecating cycle of both allowing itself to be shelved as merely “support” and then believing the hype about being shelved for “supporting roles only.” 

The questions every brigade S-3 should ask, whether ground or air, should be:

1. Have I allowed the BAE to become the least common denominator for my aviation planning? Did I bring the myth of “BAE as an extra AMR cell” on to myself? Did I train them? Did I allow them to train themselves? Have I fostered them enough to encourage open and honest review of aviation integration? Or am I using them as extra night battle captains?

2. Have I talked with my counterpart in the air or ground TOC today? Do I know what his commander’s intent is? Have I fostered AGI with my efforts today?

3. Would my TOC drink a couple beers with the other guy’s TOC? Do they think as one team? Or are they divided by the fundamental cry of “us versus them?”

Doctrine can’t solve all problems, but just about every problem a staff might encounter is in doctrine somewhere. It’s just not always Aviation Doctrine.

The trick is not knowing where to look, it’s knowing who to talk with... which typically starts with the staff and a manual that might not always be "aviation."

Military Spouse Appreciation Day

It should come as no surprise that Military Spouse Appreciation Day is the Friday before Mother’s Day weekend. This is a day where we celebrate the spouses- male and female- who keep the service members marching in the right direction. 

I could wax poetic about the military spouse and her (or his) role in the ability of the Armed Forces to rapidly project military might and power to our enemies around the world, but that would be pandering.

Instead, I made you this. Enjoy!

Carrying a Message to the Senior Airfield Authority

FM 3-04.120, Air Traffic Services Operations, blows. I’m just going to state that right out front. I’m not sure who wrote it, or what their method was, but it left some pretty large gaps in doctrine. Those gaps are now being addressed as we conduct the process of writing mind-numbing mind-altering aviation doctrine. I swear to you that we are trying to fix that problem.

But sobriety keeps getting in the way.

See that over there? That's all the money you
won't be getting for airfield management
training this year. Or ever.

Why is there nothing addressing the critical gap of knowledge about airfield managers (AFM) and senior airfield authorities (SAA) in our current Army doctrine? Why isn’t it all spelled out for us like a checklist in an appendix, where we can gloss over the topic and get back to the business of flying helicopters? It’s a big topic over at the Air Traffic Services Senior Leaders’ Conference this year, being hosted this week by the good folks from the Air Traffic Services Command  (command motto: Bring us your tired, your weary, your wretched masses yearning to have their facility training programs violated by our quality assurance inspection team). ATSCOM has done the best that it can in a rapidly impending atmosphere of budget cuts and doom regarding defense spending. It’s true, we are continuing to dump millions into AH-64D Longbow software updates, as well as the M-model Whackhawk and F-model Chinoodle modifications, but those are the money-maker platforms for aviation right now. Unfortunately, as the aviation budget shrinks, the ATS community will have to do more without resources. Not to mention, all the ATS budget will be sucked up by ATNAVICS radar repairs anyway.

So, where does that leave training dollars for SAA and AFM training? Nonexistent. I’m sorry, but here is the part where I tell you to go put on your big boy or girl panties (or maybe you’re a dude who likes to wear big girl panties, I dunno. Maybe you also fly a Whackhawk?) and drive on, my friend. If you’re waiting for ATSCOM to produce AFM and SAA training for everyone in every brigade, we should probably address a little something called “expectation management.”

The truth is that ATSCOM has tried to get to the root of the problem with digitally exportable training packages (now available online), mobile training teams that come to your brigade or battalion, and a week-long contingency airfield management workshop that allows you to pet the wild theodolite in its native habitat. In trying to address the gaps in doctrine that discuss the roles and responsibilities for an AFM and SAA, we’ve nested ourselves with existing joint and federal regulations and are expanding on the unique considerations and limitations associated with austere airfields. The Air Land Sea Application (ALSA) Center even joined the fray, uniting all of the branches in one room for a Beyond Thunderdome-style cage match where the victor would receive top billing on the new and improved Airfield Opening multiservice tactics, techniques, and procedures guide.

And still, we have a C-17 stuck in the mud on FOB Shank. Not kidding. C-17. In the mud. At Shank airfield in the middle of Logar Province. Nosnatchistan. Aces.

And there is probably some SAA standing on the roof of his TOC, looking out towards the airfield that he is endowed with authority and responsibility for (as per the joint task force commander), and asking himself what he did do deserve this in the first place. I’m sorry, sir. According to regulation, it’s all your fault. It’s a bummer, man. You should probably fire your airfield manager and start chain smoking Marlboros now. Maybe you’ll get lucky, by the time the accident investigation team wraps up their report, a stray enemy mortar will land on your plastic port-a-john, and the airfield will be the least of your concerns. 

Yes, the SAA has been delegated authority and responsibility for this strip of airfield and its associated surfaces and hazards. At the same time, blame should not rest completely on the SAA. ATS company commanders (who typically get the title of AFM thrust upon them), controllers, and pilots share that airspace and that blame. Especially the commanders.

Yesterday, I heard the commander of ATSCOM announce that they were developing a course for would-be ATS company commanders. It would run in conjunction with ATSCOM’s previously developed week-long airfield management work shop. This would give the unfortunate slob who find himself staring down the barrel of an ATS company command, and likely AFM duties, a foundation to be an effective leader to his new-found Minions.

Let’s consider this for a moment.

When a company commander in the Armor is suddenly told that he will have to conduct Infantry operations in the mountains of Againistan, he scratches his head, busts out the old doctrine, has a powwow with his officers and NCOs, and develops a training schedule that will meet the intent for his mission. He’s a captain and commander, and the success of his unit as part of a larger organization depends upon the foundations he puts in place before going to war.

Two other things this week caught my attention, along with COL(P) Macklin’s announcement.

I found a scribble on post-it note from when my boss gave this totally awesome synopsis about the battle of Shiloh. In case you don’t follow military history, it was the 150th anniversary of the battle a couple of weeks ago. He geeks out on history. Yes, I took notes during the lecture. This particular note was significant. He mentioned that, during the early days of the all-volunteer force that would comprise the Army of the Potomac, leaders were learning combat operations as they went. At camps of instruction all across the north, young officers learned how to engage their formations by candle light, and then taught it during daylight to their forces. He called it the greatest “ad hocracy” ever. I agree. Shiloh, in case you fell asleep during American history class, was the first significant victory for the northern Army. I might also add that it was totally done by a volunteer force of citizen soldiers.

The second thing I found was a return of A Message to Garcia to the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff’s reading list. I love this essay because it takes on different meaning as you get older, as your views on the world change with the levels of increased responsibility you face. Message, which has developed a cult-like following around the world, fell away from the reading list for a while and then popped back up recently when GEN Dempsey slotted it in again. Written and initially printed in 1899 in a small publication called The Philistine,  it was the brainchild of Elbert Hubbard. It examines the actions of a young officer named Rowan who is given a specific task, to carry a message on behalf of the President of the United States to the rebel fighter Calixto Garcia in the mountain jungles of Cuba. If you haven’t read it, or you claim that you’ve read it but you really haven’t, you should check it out. It's short. In all truth, Hubbard was a soap seller turned craftsman, integral to the expansion of the arts and crafts movement… which is pretty much what everyone remembers the man for. Pretty chairs. Nice furniture. Bungalow houses.

So, what does the rambling of a teetotaling socialist craftsman and book printer from East Aurora, New York, have to do with the military, aviation, and air traffic control company commanders? Elbert Hubbard, who was coincidently killed when the Lusitania was sunk by a German Unterseeboot in WW1, wrote a theme that resonates for most senior leaders who have high expectations of their junior officers: if I give you a job, go figure it out and do it.

Sometimes you get jobs or missions that you have no prior knowledge of or experience in. That’s pretty much the nature of the game for most air traffic control company commanders. It is up to us to do the job of self-education, followed with the job of training our formation. You don’t need ATSCOM to babysit you through the process. You should feel offended that they even made that assumption about you!

GEN Dempsey charged forward with the program to redefine Army doctrine, leading the charge with a concept that we’ve discussed before: mission command, the decentralization of decision-making to the lowest tactical level that can effectively achieve success for the commander’s mission, in line with the commander’s intent. More importantly, like the message of A Message to Garcia, junior leaders are empowered with the ability to make sound decisions within the commander’s guidance to support the commander’s end state.

The commander’s end state is pretty clear: don’t put a C-17 in the mud at the end of the runway at Shank airfield.

Just like the officers who paved the way before us, the Grants and Shermans of the world, we have an obligation to ourselves and our formations to learn by night the things that we may be required to teach and do by day.

So, forward I go to rewrite FM 3-04.120 into something usable for the warfighters. Hopefully it doesn’t just gather dust on a shelf in a tower facility somewhere when it’s all said and done.

Now, the question is, when this manual is ready for everyone to use and train with, who will help me carry a message to Garcia?

The Neon Green Thong

When I said that my Maintenance Test Pilot was standing around in Iraq in a Kevlar, body armor, boots and a neon green thong, I was not kidding. Much like discovering a laser ranger finder designator in a 20’ MILVAN in my motorpool, I cannot make this sh*t up.

We were walking back from the flight line. Dawn was breaking, allowing shimmering morning light to slowly creep across the sh*thole we called FOB MacKenzie. The scents of the burn pit and the blackwater pond behind the oft-broken shower trailer wafted delicately through the air. In the morning haze, our 1SG was arriving in our trusty 5-ton with a homemade breakfast of rubbery powdered eggs, Grade-E meaty sausage patties, instant grits, and a gluey concoction that was either cement aggregate or oatmeal. We were lucky to have such a delicious fare prepared for us by men who’d probably been on patrol a few hours prior in Ad Daluyiah. It was one of those rare mornings when we’d been stuck out in Ba’qubah all night because of a massive fog bank that had rapidly descended upon Diyala before we could make the run for the drier Salah ad Din province area. We were groggy. We were eager for breakfast and bed. We were not expecting to see the maintenance test pilot, taking in the majesty of the rising sun over Iraq, while enjoying a morning smoke and cup of coffee. As the threat of indirect fires was always present, he was appropriately dressed in his Kevlar, body armor, and boots.

And a neon green thong.

Only the thong.

Warrant officers.

*le sigh*

Well, at least he was wearing his Kevlar and body armor.

Have guns? Will evac?

ATTENTION IN THE TOC: This is a serious post. If you don’t like serious posts, please check back tomorrow when I will have likely written a blog post about the one time when my maintenance test pilot got in trouble for not wearing his Kevlar and body armor outside the safety of our reinforced hangar in Iraq… and was found the next morning, enjoying a smoke on the hangar’s make shift patio, wearing his Kevlar, body armor, boots… and a neon green thong. Only the thong. Seriously. That’s the cavalry for you though.

Mostly I write aviation doctrine. Mostly.

Mostly I read other branch's doctrine. Mostly.

Mostly I stick to debating Close Air Support versus my beloved Close Combat Attack. Mostly.

As a little background, I’m a scout pilot by trade, a former company commander by the grace of amazing soldiers, a one-time battle captain by sheer coincidence, and a current doctrine writer by happenstance. I’ve done all these things in combat, with the exception of doctrine writing. The forces that got me into these jobs were nothing more than right-place-right-time.

Since I’m not an assault pilot, and I didn’t really learn how to spell Air Assault until I had to help write the book about it (literally), I looked at the MEDEVAC issue from the perspective of a scout pilot. I hate it when people get all up in my cockpit with me. There you are, trying to develop the situation by scouting for gaps, flanks, and enemy weapons systems and you have a Battle Captain b*tchin’ in your ear about SITREP-this and BDA-that. I was hired to the aviation battalion battle captain job after two and half years of company command, and because I wanted to see that other side of the radio for the remaining three months of my Afghanistan rotation.  I have no idea what I was thinking. 

So, what happened with SPC Chazray Clark? I don’t know. I can only speculate that something went wrong regarding the launch authority and the escort requirement. According to some reports, the launch was delayed because there were no AH-64 Apache aircraft to escort the unarmed MEDEVAC aircraft to the point-of-injury as per the risk mitigation requirements for a pick up zone where enemy contact was likely. Given the nature of the risk of enemy engagements on the HLZ, you need that coverage sometimes. Even two M240B-armed UH-60s need an escort sometimes, especially when going to locations on the battlefield with a high likelihood of enemy contact. Reporter Michael Yon has ferociously championed the fight to remove the red cross from our MEDEVAC HH-60s and arm them, much in the manner of the Air Force’s combat search and rescue teams, known as Pedro. I don’t know if it will solve the problem. But I’m not a Whackhawk pilot, so I can’t cogitate on the airframe changes or weight restriction or space in the crew area. I do know that there would be some serious lag time between getting that approval to remove the cross and add the guns though, between air worthiness certificates and crew training. I tend to think that part of the problem can be solved by examining the criteria we use to examine and mitigate risk for launch. We have to ask ourselves whether or not we want to solve an aviation problem in five years, in this case once the debate on removing red crosses and replacing them with M240B door guns and gunners is completely done, or solve the issue tonight by realigning the way we fight.

So I’m throwing down the gauntlet and staking a claim in the fight. I think my beloved Battle Captain Mafia (BCM) should embrace this mission to shave those minutes off ourselves!

One of the best methods of solving the problem is addressing the warfighters directly, the crews and battle captains in the aviation force that handle the mission daily downrange. In embracing the difficulties and making honest small strides toward streamlining the launch process, we ensure the crews we send have the most accurate information and best coverage. With this, we can knock precious minutes off our clock, saving lives, limbs and eye sight. BOOYAH! When examining the issue from the platform of an aviation task force battle captain, the small fixes that can streamline the process become things that a unit can quickly add to its battle drills and daily battle rhythm.

What is the mythical “Golden Hour,” when does it start, and why is it even important to an aviation battle captain?

A battle captain is the manager of resources, of which time, people and equipment are categories. In understanding the start and stop point of the Golden Hour for MEDEVAC, we can examine the way that we efficiently prepare and launch our assets. As aviation is a limited resource on the battlefield, careful monitoring will ensure that the right resource goes to the right place at the right time, like MEDEVAC.

In this, we have to understand the “Golden Hour.”

First of all, it’s not in Doctrine. Anywhere. At all. It’s an informal concept that has taken root in the collective conscious of the Army and bloomed. Because it is not doctrinal, and the medical proponency has not blessed off on it, do yourself a favor and throw it away… especially if you’re an aviation battalion S3, battle captain, or air mission commander.

It does brief well though. Sixty minutes to ensure that an Urgent or Urgent Surgical patient is transported from the point of injury to a trauma center that can provide lifesaving procedures, typically a Level II or III Trauma facility. In fact, this is a common practice in the civilian aviation medical evacuation community: a strict adherence to time limits and time lines that ensure the timely transport of critically injured or ill patients to the resource best suited to care for them. It was studied by the medical proponency as a way to expedite the transport of urgent patients to. This is a good thing. Due to the application of strict time constraints on the transport of patients, survivability rates have increased. In the interest of being transparent, there is debate about the inflation of rates or the truth behind what air transport has accomplished in reality, but one cannot debate the importance of what air MEDEVAC crews have managed to accomplish to date!

Aerial MEDEVAC begins in a completely different place from where you would typically imagine: the senior medical advisor to the commander. In the case of Afghanistan, this is at CJTF. In order to preserve the medical evacuation assets, which are owned by the Army’s Medical Service branch, the employment of an air or ground evacuation asset to a MEDEVAC rests with the senior medical advisor. They are best suited to know the nature of the injury, the type of support and equipment needed during transport, and how long the injury has before it worsens. These are medical considerations that drive the selection of either air or ground methods to remove an injured soldier from the field of battle.

In other words, the choice to use a helicopter to accomplish a specific mission is a doctor’s choice. From that point, the 9-line is given to an aviation force to the fill requirement.

From that moment, when the approval message is received by the supporting aviation force, the clock starts ticking to fill the order. The current standard for notification, approval, and launch of MEDEVAC aircrews (and their escorts) is 15 minutes. This is all delegated and tracked digitally by the way, so it’s all broadcasting in real-time in everyone’s TOC. Because this whole process has been made digital through the convenience of modern things like mIRC and CPOF (or CPORN, command post of right now, if you’re so inclined and slightly cav-ish), we all share the same situation understanding across the TOCs. Whether you’re the IBCT Battle Captain or the CAB Battle Captain or the aviation battalion task force battle captain, everyone knows when the clock starts because we all see it in the chat windows. So, long before approvals are granted or leadership is being hunted down for launch authorization, the digital spider web of the BCM is hard at work getting crews spun up and coordinating for escort assets, if they were needed.

Launch Approval versus Mission Approval

The approval to launch an air asset rests with the senior aviation commander based on the level of aviation related risk. This is critical to highlight: mission approval authority and launch approval authority is not the same person. They don’t even have the same background. The ability to launch an aviation asset for an assignment has several critical considerations, which may be enemy threat, rules of engagement, weather, fighter management, escort requirements, and the overall tactical situation. These are things critical to consider for any aviation mission, let alone the launch of a MEDEVAC aircraft. Because these considerations cross the spectrum of aviation risk, the choice to launch the asset is given to the aviation commander, who understands these factors intrinsically. Furthermore, the staff of the aviation task force will have the optimum planning tools available to both identify and mitigate those aviation specific risks, which can include Air Force weather observation teams, aviation specific intelligence tracking and development, flight mission planning tools and software, and armed escort aircraft.

So, as the mission approval authority has the decision to use an air medical evacuation asset, the launch approval authority has the decision of whether it is safe and proper to launch the air asset. In sharing these decisions, the asset is both guarded and protected for use at the right time and place without risking the crew or loss of the airframe.

An Aviation Battle Captain’s Approach to MEDEVAC and Managing Assets throughout the Mission Period

In Afghanistan, aviation battle captains have a plethora of digital assets at their disposal to monitor the process of announcing and commencing the process of air MEDEVAC. Digital battle nets enable immediate posting, transmission, and acknowledgement of missions. This is followed up with standardized reporting to know when a launch has been approved, executed, arrived at the point of pick up, departed the point of pick up and arrived to their destination treatment facility. These digital announcements are critical to situational awareness for both aviation leadership and ground forces, anxious to know the status of their in-bound medical asset.

Part of being a battle captain is knowing how to manage resources in the immediate fight. While future operations and current operations fall under the purview of the S3 in total, and there is a high degree of interaction between these two cells within one shop, the there is a distinct difference between them. One plans for the future. One plans for the next couple of hours. So, how can the battle captain plan for MEDEVAC readiness when the fight varies? If I could offer the aviation BCM some nuggets, it would be this:

Preparing for the worst: Getting yourself postured as a battle captain to do MEDEVAC

                1. Examination of the ground force CONOPS daily. As the links between fellow battle captains cross unit boundaries in the digital world, frequent contact with the battle captains in the BCT and battalion tactical operations centers offers insight into the missions currently underway and those planned for the future. This information, when synthesized properly, becomes a window into knowing which patrols or missions are likely in end up in contact with enemy forces and lead to the launch of a MEDEVAC (or even a quick reaction force of attack reconnaissance aircraft), especially when paired with the constant stream of intelligence from an aggressive and proactive S2.

2. “Watching” the fight; “Knowing” the critical points. During the course of a deployment, as familiarization grows with both an area of operations and the coalition ground forces, critical points in a mission will unfold on the digital network to the people who pay attention to them. This is best accomplished at times by simply opening the right windows on military internet relay chat (mIRC), Command Post of the Future (CPOF) or even Blue Force Tracker (BFT) and watching. The key is to know what windows to open, who to talk with, and what to look for. In planning the day’s operations, review of CONOPs and discussion with the future operations cell will gives perspective on who should be chatted up digitally on the mIRC net. The first place the digital transmission of the 9-Line will be seen prior to the division or CJTF mission approval authority will likely be in the mIRC window of the battalion in contact. This garners a battle captain the ability to alert crews, gather critical information (such as weather or threat situation), posture attack aircraft as escorts, and start planning for launch authority notification, if needed. Once the rose is pinned to the unit to launch, the battle captain will already have the crews briefed and on their way to the aircraft. This saves valuable minutes in the launch process and provides time to react to changes. It is vastly easier to turn an asset off than it is to turn it on.

3. Alerting the Boss. There are times when the risk associated with launching an asset will exceed the approval authority of the aviation battle captain, and the leadership will need to be notified for approval. By watching chatter on nets and monitoring the fight as it develops, a battle captain can posture themselves to know how to quickly reach out to the right launch approval authority at the right time. This saves valuable time in the debate of knowing what risks may be associated with sending an asset into an area, especially considering the threat situation. This enables the commander to have the critical situational understanding he or she needs to put the right assets on the job. This also limits stalls in response time due escort requirements, premature launches, and “territorial” debates about missions. The more information that a battle captain can give to both the ground and air commander will ensure that tactical trust is present. When there is tactical trust in the ability of an aviation battle captain, the commander will also trust their judgment and suggested solutions to problems during the launch sequence.

4. Communicating with the Flight before the Flight happens. Prior planning prevents piss poor performance. Daily mission briefs need to be made available and given to any and all aircrews that are preparing to fill mission sets for the day: attack reconnaissance pilots (which includes unmanned aircraft systems crews), ring route or air movement crews, and the MEDEVAC teams on call. Every aircrew needs to know what a battle captain  has been watching and discussing with the ground forces via the digital networks, and any additional information that a battle captain can give quick reaction force personnel helps them to stage themselves in a position to launch or dynamically retask to assist ground forces. The link between the MEDEVAC crew on shift and their escort needs to be made in order to ensure that battle drills, limitations and considerations are shared.

                5. Dealing with the launch restrictions. Inevitably there are limitations to the use and application of any air assets on the battlefield. Air ambulances are no different in this matter. Between an aviation commander’s years of experience and intuition and the planning conducted by his or her staff, limitations are balanced with the need to safely meet mission. Restrictions aren’t bad unless they aren’t reexamined for poignancy every now and then. As a battlefield changes during the course of a deployment, and the need for security increases or decreases. Consequently, the needs of the unarmed air ambulance to have a standard UH-60 chase aircraft or attack escort for launch will also change. As an example, if an AH-64 is necessitated to escort an air ambulance to a point-of-injury pick up, units will determine whether weapon sight systems for the attack escort must be completely optimized prior to departure from the FOB or allow for optimization in flight. This is a trade-off for the commander. Does he allow for immediate take-off and system optimization in flight, risking the inability of the attack escort to provide immediate suppression of enemy fire once the berm is crossed? Or does he wait for optimization, allowing precious minutes to tick by on a soldier’s life? These are difficult considerations that are managed by frequent and careful examination of both the risks and the mitigation measures in place.

                6. How to instruct the ground force on using their asset. Whether serving a ground force commander in a direct support or general support relationship, air ground integration goes beyond just sharing the ground force scheme of maneuver or the effects of the AGM-114R from an AH-64D. The ability of a battle captain to articulate limitations to the ground force staff about air MEDEVAC is every bit as critical as discussing weapons effects. Much of this is air ground integrations is accomplished through a competent and proactive brigade aviation element prior to leaving the home station. Even with comprehensive air ground integration, the highly charged and emotional atmosphere of an urgently needed MEDEVAC can cause rifts in the shared understanding that ground and aviation units have. Having a well thought and well crafted plan ready for the ground force commander is every bit as vital as having one ready for the aviation commander. This is where a battle captain can preserve an asset from being misused prior to it even being needed or requested.

SPC Clark was a tragic loss. I don’t know what happened. I can’t help but wonder that, if he’d been injured during my watch as a battle captain, maybe things might have been different. I wonder if I would have planned my asset allocation differently . I wonder if I would have recognized a fight brewing, posturing both MEDEVAC and escort assets in a better fashion. I wonder if I would have had a better solution to the delays for my commander.

Mostly I just wonder. Mostly.

I'm going "organic." And you?

Ahhh, Center for Army Lessons Learned handbooks. Love them. Hate them. It matters not. You should still read them. Sometimes you find gems, lessons that you can use later to build better systems in your own organization. Sometimes you don’t find gems. You find The Army’s “Organic” Unmanned Aircraft Systems: An Unhealthy Choice for the Joint Operational Environment, an AGI article by Major Travis A. Burdine of the US Air Force (originally printed in the Summer 2009 issue of Air & Space Power Journal).  Now, I will admit that is CALL Handbook (11-29) was from June of 2011, but it had Air Ground Integration on the cover. I was a proverbial moth to a flame.

Application for organic UAS as part of Army Aviation concerns me because I have, in the most poetic way possible, drank deep the kool-aid of cooperative employment and teaming between unmanned aircraft systems and rotary wing assets. I believe in organic UAS. I also know that UAS will eventually replace me as a reconnaissance platform, and I’ll be out of job some day. Acceptance is the first step to admitting you have a problem, right? Major Burdine’s article was of particular interest to me as it shares space on my desk at the moment with the notes from the 101st Combat Aviation Brigade’s combat training center rotation. 101 CAB is the first CAB to boast organic ownership of UAS, specifically the RQ-7B Shadow. If the Air Force has good ideas or suggestions for making this process of good integration better, I’m all ears.

Except it didn’t.

Major Travis A. Burdine, a graduate of the Air Force Academy, was both an E-3 AWACS senior pilot and has strapped himself into the control station of a MQ-1B Predator for 750 hours at the time he penned his opus Air & Space Power Journal. He was also the subject matter expert on Predator and Reaper systems on the Air Force Unmanned Aircraft System Task Force, assigned to the Air Staff in Washington DC. He was also a Standardization Pilot for the 432d Wing at Creech AFB, where large Air Force UAS come and go, raining doom down upon the doomed heads of our doomed enemies. It all makes me wanna sing The Doom Song. The man has street cred though; I’ll give him that.

Two themes kept creeping back in my head as I scribbled with a Sharpie marker all over the article: who is the customer for airpower and what happens when we separate the airpower customer and supplier by thousands of miles?

There is little that compares between the RQ-7B and its bigger brothers, the Air Force’s MQ-1 Predator and the Army’s MQ-1C Gray Eagle. They are all UAS, yes, but the Shadow is unarmed, save for a laser designation payload. It’s eyes, without teeth. Yet, it shares the same dilemma as the larger, armed versions owned by both the Air Force and the Army: who asks for it, who gets it, and who controls it. These are things that concern me as a doctrine writer for aerial reconnaissance, and as scout pilot who will work with these systems in combat operations.

It all opens with a scenario… naturally. The Air Force loves f*cking vignettes after all.

Grunt 21, an Army ground unit in the combat zone, replies, “Cyclops 55, this is Grunt 21. Go ahead with check-in.”

The pilot, located in a ground control station in Las Vegas, Nevada, says, “Cyclops 55 is a single MQ-1B Predator, currently overhead at 12,000 feet, armed with two Hellfire missiles, 21 hours of playtime, with infrared-pointer and laser-designator capability. Sensors are on the target house, ready for situation update.”

 “Cyclops 55, Grunt 21 copies all. Situation update is as follows: the ground commander has been waiting two days to get Air Force UAS support over this target house. We plan to execute a raid in two hours. We are looking for a high-level insurgent commander and a weapons cache.”

“Cyclops 55 copies all.”

Direct from Las Vegas, Nevada, folks! It’s your very own low density, high demand unmanned asset, complete with ample playtime for all your mission needs!... focus, Doctrinatrix.

Just prior to the planned raid, the UAS crew hears a call for help from Alpha 6, an Army special forces team located 15 miles away from Grunt 21. “Alpha 6 is being engaged. Multiple friendlies killed in action. Requesting immediate CAS [close air support]!”

Knowing that troops in contact (TIC) are the joint force commander’s (JFC) highest-priority objective, the UAS crew immediately conveys the TIC information to the combined air and space operations center (CAOC) and the special forces operations center. The CAOC informs Cyclops 55 that, at three minutes away, it is the closest asset.

I suppose I should have had my doubts about the article with the opening scenario. By the time I reached the end with CAOC dynamically retasking the UAS, I was justifiably pissed off… on behalf of the fictional commander for Grunt 22.

As the missile destroys the target, the Predator liaison officer in the CAOC receives a message from the original Army unit that was supposed to have Predator coverage all day: “Cyclops 55, there is an Army colonel on the phone with the joint force air component commander [JFACC], screaming about how you botched the entire operation by leaving his unit without his permission. He cancelled his entire ground operation because you failed to support him by departing your orbit . . . again.”

I’ve often said that the quick reaction force (QRF) mentality will get you in trouble, and it did in this scenario. When you have a mission, you have an assigned master. Obey your master until released from your mission or retasked to another mission by your master.

Who really controlled that UAS? The CAOC or the ground force commander to whom coverage and operational control had been given for that time period? Then again, the scenario lacked crucial details too. Was the UAS aircrew briefed on the ground scheme of maneuver for Grunt 22? Had they been part of the mission planning process for the ground scheme of maneuver? What was the established dynamic retasking order? Who was the approval authority for changes to mission? Who was the priority for support? Was everyone briefed on those priorities and authorities? What do you mean by “departing your orbit… again” anyway? Who is in charge of this little canine and equestrian extravaganza?

This is what Army pilots think about all the time. Well, that… and porn.

The first sections to the body of the article felt like fluffity fluff fluff to me, so much Air Force self-pandering and aggrandizing that I found myself scribbling the same question in the margin over and over again: Who works for whom here? I’m dangerous with a Sharpie, people.

“The primary purpose of Army Aviation is to support ground-maneuver commanders and their objectives,” Maj Burdine quoted that from just about every piece of Army Aviation doctrine that has ever been written. With the absence of a need to establish air supremacy in the regions we currently fight in, the customer is the ground force commander to whom the asset has been assigned. After all, who actually clears and holds physical terrain? I’ll give you a hint. It’s not anyone who wears flight suit.

Well, then. Fly to Afghanistan and get it yourself.

I choked through the article, which lacked grist on the cooperation between air and ground forces, favoring instead the Air Force method of asset control via the CAOC, centrally parceling out support from on high. Meh. I gutted through the discussion on rated pilots versus operators as a significant risk factor in the safety of combat airspace. I agreed with Major Burdine about the need to return to a better common operating picture in preparing to face an enemy with a significant air defense threat. I also agreed with him that the constant reliance on the restricted operating zone (ROZ) as an airspace control method is disorganized and inefficient at best. It was also nice to see the admittance that the “CAOC has little situational awareness of air operations below the coordinating altitude” since the “Army’s organic aviation assets such as helicopters and UASs take off, land, and fly at the discretion of the ground-maneuver commander.” Hey, admitting you have a problem is a good start, right?

Finally I got the part I was hoping to find: the zen-like, Big Lebowski-style lesson I was hoping for… kinda!

“Army leaders argue that organic CAPs [combat air patrols] of Sky Warriors [MQ-1C] supporting the division commander will be more effective than RSO [remote split operation] CAPs. An Army publication notes that ‘dedicated UAS at brigade level will increase effectiveness of operations by providing more responsive and more detailed reconnaissance.’ The Army contends that requesting UAS support in the Air Force’s method of centralized control is too slow and carries too much risk of having the asset diverted to other priorities. It also believes that RSOs negatively impact effectiveness due to the communication degradation caused by the 8,000 miles between crews and ground commanders. Finally, the Army argues that in order to fight as a cohesive unit, the aircrew needs to deploy with the units it supports, so as to ‘feel’ the intensity and tempo of the day-to-day fight.

These concerns are warranted; however, it is unlikely that the ground commander will be colocated with the UAS crews due to Sky Warrior’s runway-length requirements. The Army will use UAS communication methods similar to those the Air Force uses today, such as radio, chat, phone, and e-mail.”

The Army argues that it wants to fight as a cohesive unit? The aircrew needs to deploy with the units they support? Aircrews should ‘feel’ the intensity and tempo of the day-to-day fight? Okay, the last question is a little too touchy-feely, we-all-fight-this-war-and-suffer-together-ish. I’ll admit to that.

Anyway, there are more important questions to retort with anyway. Shouldn’t aircrews and ground forces be capable of constant and daily interaction to ensure that missions and battle drills are commonly understood and shared? Shouldn’t air and ground staffs be cooperatively involved in the planning process, from mission conception through the rehearsal and execution?

More importantly, what happens when the 30K generator that supports the command post takes a big ol’ dump in the middle of planning or executing your operation, and all your precious digital systems are gone in one nasty power surge? So much for air ground integration, I guess. 

So, now what?

Admittedly, the Army has not cracked the nut on dealing with airspace. We’re a disaster. Dropping restricted operating zones (ROZ) on the battlefield is a band-aid to a larger problem: the need for comprehensive airspace tracking and management, especially when crossing brigade boundaries. The ROZ is an inefficient method, especially when altitude and time separation can create a more seamless airspace if used properly. While a snap, or immediate, ROZ is ideal for company-controlled UAS, a Gray Eagle is a little hefty for such things. This is not to say that we should run back to the arms of the CAOC to solve this problem, but perhaps we should be looking to improving our communications with the Brigade Aviation Element and the Air Defense and Airspace Management cell of the brigade combat team. Just sayin’…

The reason Army Aviation was taken out of corps-level of control and placed down at the division-level of command is to increase access for the tactical commander, specifically the brigade commander. If the tactical units at brigade and below cannot get access to their aviation support due to dynamic retasking at higher, we have bigger issues… something Major Burdine’s opening scenario depicted. The decision to place large armed UAS at the combat aviation brigade and the smaller RQ-7B in the cavalry squadron was to increase the access and integration, just like we do for our rotary wing assets.

There is no right solution to the problem, but the problem continues to exist. Perhaps Major Burdine closed it the best way possible.

“Airmen and soldiers alike must put service rivalries aside, think creatively, and work together to solve today’s problems.”

Just like in anyone else’s private kitchen, the choice of organic or nonorganic assets is personal preference, but it’s the user who ultimately makes the choice, not the supplier.