Pages

Thursday, March 15, 2012

Mission Command and the Air Mission Commander: why air ground integration totally rocks my socks and ADP 6-0 totally validates the close combat attack!


Ground dudes. Pilots. Working together.
In harmony. Playing nicely. What is the
world coming to?
(Camp Taji, Iraq. U.S. Army photo by Sgt. Travis Zielinski)

I love the philosophy of mission command. It's sexy. 
Mission command is the exercise of authority and direction by the commander using mission orders to enable disciplined initiative within the commander’s intent to empower agile and adaptive leaders in the conduct of unified land operations. (ADP 6-0, page 2)
How can you be a pilot and not find that sexy because that’s totally an introduction to things that are even sexier? Air ground integration things. You know, Army Aviation pitched a fit about how we didn’t have our own warfighting function, which is ridiculous. We are a part of every warfighting function, especially the movement and maneuver function and the mission command function! Even better? The principles and philosophies of mission command, the more esoteric side of leader empowerment, is totally a case for air ground integration.
Which, of course, totally begets the close combat attack (CCA)! But more on that in just a second.
So, examining the principles of mission command. Let’s take a peek, shall we?
1. Build cohesive teams through mutual trust. That’s tactical trust, people. We’ve discussed that puppy before. Tactical trust, the ability of a commander to intrinsically know that their junior leadership is executing the mission in accordance with their desired intent and end state, is critical to doing combined arms operations. As aircrews, our segregation from the ground force commander by virtue of modularity means that we have to work even harder to inspire trust in the ground force commander. We have to make the effort to nest ourselves, our plans and our effects, with what the ground force commander needs. Integrate early, integrate often, I always say. Then again, I’ve also been known to say drink vodka early, drink vodka often… take my advice for what it’s worth, and only when I’m sober.
2. Create a shared understanding. This is situational understanding (or situational awareness, if you haven’t gotten that memo yet). Situational understanding has to be a shared idea and picture of the battlefield, or your missions will never nest quite right with the ground force’s missions. You have to see what they see, know what they know, and speak the same intent and end state. Since aviation can’t hold and clear ground, the mission we embrace and share must be with the ground forces. Every piece of information or bit of intelligence we garner must be for them, with them in mind always! It’s very codependent, but not in that creepy drunk-ex-girlfield-beating-on-your-front-door-at-2am-on-a-Wednesday-night kind of way.
3. Provide a clear commander’s intent. This is kinda sorta obvious because mission command’s definition of “enable disciplined initiative within the commander’s intent” tells us that the commander’s intent is really driving the train for this one. If you are a commander, hoping that you can embrace a little shared tactical trust with your subordinates, you have to have a good commander’s intent for them to work with. One that is clear, concise, and decisive in nature will inspire a feeling of trust within your subordinates… who, in turn, will operate within your intent to meet your end state, which inspires your trust in them. It’s like a tactical group hug (where, after a couple of weeks in the field, all the huggers smell like feet).
4. Exercise disciplined initiative. Initiative is the willingness to act in the absence of orders. There are going to be times when the commander can’t foresee the future events of the enemy or civilian populace, but a response is needed. The foundations of tactical trust, the principles of mission command, gives subordinates the confidence to apply their judgment to the situation, know the intent of their commander, and choose a course of action that will keep the mission moving in a positive direction.  We’re not Russians. We don’t need the commander to provide new orders for everything, especially when you’re growing junior leaders in an environment that fosters discipline, professionalism, and good decision making.
5. Use mission orders. Speaking of issuing new mission orders… mission orders are directives that emphasize which results are to be attained, not how the results are attained. It’s effects based planning. We figure out what the end state should be, based on the shared understanding of our environment, and then we figure out the best method to achieve those effects without going outside of the commander’s intent. This sounds eerily like an introduction to air ground integration, right? We plan for the effect we want, not for the system we want. You might get a ground force commander who thinks he needs eight Chinooks for his company sized air assault, but he really just needs a little interaction with the aircrews to help him figure out what best meets his needs for quickly arriving at the objective to retain surprise and speed of maneuver.
6. Accept prudent risk. This is tougher for leaders working with aircrews. Prudent risk is a deliberate thing that exposes us purposefully to potential injury or loss when the commander believes the mission accomplishment is worth the cost. Opportunity comes with risk. But risk, when properly planned for and mitigated, can lead to tactical rewards, especially when subordinates trust that leadership knows what they are doing. Take Stonewall Jackson for instance. His men cheerfully accepted the process of being maneuvered over long distances, knowing that their leadership was doing so to flank and maneuver to advantageous positions. This meant that, when it came to engage, GEN Jackson’s forces were ideally suited and positioned to win. His subordinates knew that, down to the infantryman level, and trusted the judgment of the leadership. Mucho sexy.

So, how does mission command totally rock my air ground integrated socks and validate the sexiness of CCA? Like this.
Picture the six principles of mission command. Now read this:
“Operations must be integrated so air and ground forces can simultaneously work in the operational environment to achieve a common objective.  Air-Ground Integration (AGI) is a process that allows ground maneuver commanders to maximize combat power by synchronizing the maneuver, fires, and effects of both aviation and ground forces to accomplish a stated mission.  Integrating aviation units into the ground commander’s scheme of maneuver increases the capability of the ground maneuver force by drastically improving speed, range, flexibility and lethality, beyond the normal capabilities of a stand-alone ground maneuver unit.” (CW4 Anthony Parrott, USAACE DOTD Gunnery Branch)
Let’s pull this statement apart, shall we?
“Operations must be integrated so air and ground forces can simultaneously work in the operational environment to achieve a common objective” Sounds like building a team through mutual trust and common goal, right?
Or how about this?
“Air-Ground Integration (AGI) is a process that allows ground maneuver commanders to maximize combat power by synchronizing the maneuver, fires, and effects of both aviation and ground forces to accomplish a stated mission.” If that isn’t team building, with a healthy nod to the need for a clearly stated commander’s intent and effects-based planning, I don’t know what is!
Orrrrr, my personal favorite…
“Integrating aviation units into the ground commander’s scheme of maneuver increases the capability of the ground maneuver force by drastically improving speed, range, flexibility and lethality, beyond the normal capabilities of a stand-alone ground maneuver unit.” Based on the ground commander’s scheme of maneuver, intent and end state, we combine our initiatives to increase our shared lethality, mitigating the tactical risks of working alone on a highly fluid battlefield!
You can’t help but nod in agreement, right? You’re all, “that’s so right, Doctrinatrix. I totally see what you mean now. I’m going to go read ADP 6-0 and find some hidden meaning right now.”
BUT WAIT there’s more. I know, as if this couldn’t get any sexier than it already is?
Let’s look at our old friend, the close combat attack.
This is usually the point where Whackhawk pilots will mentally check out, and go to their happy place (which is typically filled with manicures and pink mega-girly-drinks). And, yet, I have managed to brainwash the man they call Starbuck to my CCA-is-sexy cause, and he’s a Whackhawk pilot. Soooo, THAT should tell you how important this all is, people…
The close combat attack is both boon and curse to the attack reconnaissance community and the ground forces they support. Enabling the ability for the ground force commander to achieve effects with aerial munitions, the use of the close combat attack tends to be restricted to troops-in-contact scenarios. Where CCA and CAS, close air support, differ is the requirement for terminal control of platform for munitions use and release. But it’s suggestive of the nature of CAS's evil twin (according to the Marine Corps), the CCA. High degrees of mutual situational understanding, shared knowledge of the ground force commander’s intent and missions, and shared tactical risk link air and ground assets in good air ground integration, which means that both have a vested interested in the successful outcome of an engagement. I don’t need a trained babysitter to tell me what headings to turn inbound on, what munition to use, or when to press to the trigger. As an air mission commander, pilot in command, and professional Army aviator, I know what to do because I have hedged my bets favorably through dutiful study and integration with the ground force I support! Mission command begets the sharing of missions, fosters the cooperation of tactical parties, and advances junior leaders to exercise disciplined initiative within their commander’s sound, solid intent. All of this gets us back to ground force commander having tactical trust in the air mission commander to do the right thing because the lives of his soldiers (and civilians in his area of operations) depend upon that!
This is why mission command is really a case for air ground integration and why I think it’s so freakin’ sexy.
Chances are, now you think it’s sexy too!

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Airspace Considerations

There is an air corridor off of the departure end of Cairns’ runway 6. I love to take the last 30 minutes of one flight every month and run the ILS approach to RWY 6 because instrument flight is sexy. Ask any instrument examiner, and they will agree with me. I run the approach, and I then stay low for the Lowe East corridor through post, and head back home to lovely Shell Army Heliport. Since I normally run this approach at the end of the flight period, I’m haulin’ balls from the corridor transition at ACP School up to RT 2 and ACP 27 around 1700. You have to stay low and fast to stay out of Lowe AHP’s traffic. The Lowe East is an 800’ MSL corridor. Shell AHP already sits at 400’ MSL. For a flight training area, that’s pretty low over the trees and base! It’s more awesome when you don’t have doors on your aircraft. You’re all Vietnam-chopper-pilot-sexy style, waving at the kiddies in post housing as you fly over the more remote parts of post.
A bird strike is never expected. In fact, it can be a very traumatic event for both you and the bird. 
Now imagine if that bird where not just any bird, but a Raven. I’m talking about a full on, remotely piloted RQ-11B Small Unmanned Aircraft System RAVEN!
I’ve nearly had one of these traumatic events myself in Iraq. No sh*t, there I was, flight lead for a two-ship route patrol travelling south on route Vanessa going from Al-Muqdadiyah to Ba’qubah (which the pilots thought it was hilarious to make the only girl pilot in the troop tell the ground forces that she was "going down on Vanessa" during the ground force check in brief... heathens). I was chillin’ in the left seat, watching for nefarious people doing nefarious things along the road, when…
 *WRRRAAAWRRRRAAAAWRRRRR*
Right. By. The. Windscreen. Right. Under. The. Rotor disk.
The pilot on the controls, a man with considerable flight experience in dicey places, stopped breathing. I stopped breathing, gripping the armored side panel and cockpit glare shield for dear life. The trail aircraft chirped cheerfully over the radio.
“Did you see that?”
Finally my heart started again. We looked at each for a moment. He broke the silence.
“I think the seat cover is now stuck in my butt.”
Yeah, it was a Raven from an infantry platoon that was out doing a routine patrol.
I have inadvertently underflown wires. I have gotten myself into power margins that were not smart. I have been shot at by large calibers of small arms. I have had mortars drop around me on the runway while waiting to take off. Once, I nearly got into a head on collision with an Iraqi tractor trailer truck cab, while in a state of target fixation. These were all things that my pilot buddies and I have tried to do to ourselves. Or with enemy help.
So I’m sure you can imagine my shock when I saw two young members of the flight schooler crowd gawking up at the sky yesterday around 1700 on my way home from work. They were slack jawed and staring up at the sky, like turkeys staring up at the rain and waiting to drown. One of them was holding a rather robust remote controller which was providing inputs for a Raven-sized remote controlled helicopter.
In the middle of the transition from ACP School on the Lowe East corridor to ACP 27 by Shell!
I could almost feel the seat in my butt.
I pulled my car over, got my heart to start beating again, and asked, “Hey, you guys know this is the transition for the Lowe East corridor, right?”
The response? “I asked around and no one told me that I couldn't fly it here."
Who did you ask? Other flight schoolers? Did you actually ask someone who knew the airspace? What do you think are the operating restrictions for remote controlled aircraft in this airspace? Do you even know what type of airspace you’re standing in right now?
(Oh, and in case you forgot all about flight school, Cairns is Class D)
So, this is my public service announcement: Please friend these really nice people on Facebook called the Wiregrass Radio Control Club of Ft. Rucker. They have meetings and dinner at Larry’s BBQ together. And they have fly-ins where they have established a NOTAM to prevent fellow pilots from sucking the seat cover into their butt. Which is sexy.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Being Mum on MUM

MUM. MUMT. MUMO. 

It’s not a word. Words have meaning. Manned-unmanned, manned-unmanned teaming, manned-unmanned operations: phrases that have been invented and lack meaning. In all truth, there is little difference between the application of rotary wing helicopters and unmanned aircraft systems to missions that Aviation does, especially in the attack and reconnaissance roles. Regardless of what launches the weapon or what designates the target, all of it takes good planning. It all requires good targeting development. It all needs detailed air ground integration throughout the whole targeting process.
So, when a helicopter goes out and laser designates for an MQ-1C, it’s called a remote hellfire engagement.
When a UAS launches a missile for a ground based laser designator and a COLT, it’s a remote.
When a Kiowa becomes the designator for an Apache, it’s a remote.
When a Shadow designates for an MQ-1C, who is launching a AGM-114P+ hellfire, it’s a remote.
When a UAS is designating some bad dudes in the Korengal Valley for an Apache, it’s a remote.
When a Kiowa designates for another Kiowa, that’s still a remote.
When an MQ-1C is the launching platform for that same COLT in the Tangi Valley, that’s also still a remote.
When an Apache’s laser beshats itself in the middle of an engagement, and it can’t designate for the launching platform, and the launching platform decides to designate for itself… caught ya. That’s actually an autonomous engagement. Sneaky. 
Words already have meaning. 
The Tadpole and The Snake
by: John DelVecchio
circa 1971
"There once was a snake who daily made his wayy...
... With his friend the tadpole in search of their prey.
Together to the jungle they would go,
The snake up high and the Tadpole down low.
And when the Tadpole's eyes the enemy did spy;
Fangs ready, his partner would fly on by,
Spitting his deadly venom from the sky."

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Day-Out-Night-Return Post: Tupperware


Hi, my name is The Doctrinatrix, and I have your Tupperware.
I know you think that it’s all safe in your cupboard, but those are actually replacements that you forgot you bought about three years ago. Since that time, your spouse probably deployed and came home. Your children have either been born or started school. You PCSed somewhere new. You had big life events that happened, and you totally forgot that you gave me some leftovers, or you brought something to my house and left it there, and I STILL HAVE YOUR TUPPERWARE. Friendship and time have made you forget. I have never forgotten because I have the proof of life in my pantry cupboards: the sandwich sized Tupperware that matches the set that you got for your wedding anniversary.
I know exactly who it all belongs to. I know this because I am evil. Evil… and hoarding other people’s Tupperware. AS HOSTAGES!

If you’re convinced that I have your deviled egg carrier, I do. If you’re missing a part of your Tupperware collection, but you think you might find it in the back of the fridge with something growing in it, you’re wrong. It’s not in your fridge. I have your Tupperware. If you think you might have possibly left Tupperware at my house at one point, you did. If you’re not sure that you have ever visited my house or know me personally, it doesn’t matter. I still have your Tupperware.
I have so much Tupperware from one friend's house that I am pretty sure she could buy her own über fancy couture wardrobe with the money she could save if she didn’t have to replace all the Tupperware I’ve filched. I have a Tupperware from another friend, brought to my house filled with her yummy beer cheese dip. I STILL HAVE IT (the Tupperware, not the dip)! I PCSed from Campbell to Rucker and smuggled away Tupperware bits. Kind friends brought me leftovers when I was flying a night mission a year ago. I still have their totally awesome Tupperware. I love it. I took it with me to Leavenworth. I will probably hoard it forever.
Told you. Pure evil.
I just want you to know that I will treasure your Tupperware always. I will love it. Honor it. I will promise to feed and walk it every day. I will be its best friend.
Until I leave it in the back of the fridge with leftovers and it starts growing something scary. Then it’s game on.
I’m glad we talked about this. It clears my conscience. Ahhhh.

Lots of love and hugs,
The Doctrinatrix