Why can't joe get the lead out?

"If there is one thing a Dogface loves, it is artillery--his own."

Audie Murphy, To Hell and Back (New York: MJF Books, 1949)

After 20 years of automation, at least six different fire direction computers and countless versions of software, are we better today? Are our fires faster or slower? More or less precise? Can we do more things at once or are we driven to sequential operations? Are our operations simpler or more complex?

Certainly in some ways we are better. We are more precise, and our computer systems are far more capable than they were even a few years ago.

It is troubling, however, that while we are more accurate than ever before, our fires are slower, impersonal and sequestered in a fire support stovepipe isolated from maneuver. Indeed, in today's information age, we have lost the human dimension of fire support and are operating with an overly centralized, complex and marginally responsive fire direction system.

The time has come for a visit to our past to reassess our doctrinal close support fire direction procedures and find a new way ahead that leverages the virtues of the information age yet allows the most powerful computer of all--the human mind--to orchestrate the complex business of fire support. This will allow Joe to "Get the lead out."

Looking Ahead Through the Past. Who, you might ask, is "Joe?" On 26 January 1945, Second Lieutenant Audie Murphy won the Medal of Honor directing artillery fire and firing a machine gun off the top of a burning tank destroyer. While recreating this action in the movie To Hell and Back, Murphy, playing himself, calls-for-fire, imploring the fire direction center (FDC) to "Tell them Joes to get the lead out."

In the banter that takes place between Murphy and the FDC, a bond develops between Murphy and the firing battery. Murphy says, "You're right on the nose, keep it coming." "Good shootin', Mac; the tanks are heading for cover." The FDC responds, "Send us a correction; let's stay on those tanks." Murphy replies, "Just keep after that infantry!" The FDC asks, "How close are they?" Murphy responds, "Hold the phone, I'll let you talk to them!"

In fact, Murphy made seven 50-yard corrections on his fire mission to keep fires on the lead German elements. On his final correction, the FDC responded "50 over? That's your own position." Murphy responded, "I don't give a damn. 50 over." (1) Wounded, Murphy retreated from his position, recalling, "As if under the influence of some drug, I slide off the tank destroyer and, without once looking back, walk down the road through the forest. If the Germans want to shoot me, let them. I am too weak from fear and exhaustion to care." (2)

This scenario strikes at the heart of what is wrong with the direction of our information-age Army, and, more specifically, "Joe" of the Field Artillery and fire support. We have lost the human dimension of fire support, the intimate bond between observers and firing batteries and all that comes with it. We have lost the ability to transcend quantitative data with intuitive judgment and exercise that complex translation of emotions and instincts into action, feeling the sense of urgency that comes from human need and the great sense of satisfaction that comes from serving your fellow soldier.

Imagine if Lieutenant Audie Murphy were in combat today. He would make a voice call for artillery fire to his company fire support officer (FSO) who would input the call-for-fire into his handheld terminal unit. Or perhaps Murphy would input the call-for-fire into his Force XXI battle command brigade and below (FBCB(2)) terminal and send it forward. See Figure 1. In the perfect world, this call-for-fire would zip through the intervention points (IPs) of the task force fire support element (FSE), brigade FSE, battalion FDC, battery FDC and, ultimately, to the guns that would fire, all with a digital processing time of perhaps two minutes. More likely, however, broken communications would lose Murphy's mission. Or it would not meet the attack criteria and would receive a review or two, significantly delaying it or running the risk of a higher command post's rejecting it. Then the mission that started 550 yards from the observer's position would require automated clearance of fires. (3)

This decision-making process would not appreciate Murphy's plight as no emotion would connect the fact that Murphy is alone against six tanks and two reinforced rifle companies. How could he convey his plight to the firing battery? How would the battery know it was "on the money"? How would it know how close the enemy was or whether the tanks were heading for cover? The answer is that the battery never would know because Murphy's mission, after all, would be just another email message.

The truth is that we would not use digital for such a fire mission in combat, just as most of our observers don't use digital devices for fire missions at our Combat Training Centers (CTCs) and in most training. That begs the question: Why do we persist in developing technologies that don't work well for our core task of providing close supporting fires to our maneuver formations?

Imagine a late-night scenario where a Marine long-range reconnaissance patrol (LRRP) is under attack and the only unit within supporting range is a US Army FA battery. A quiet voice whispers over the fire direction net, "Is this a uniform sierra alpha [US Army] Red-leg?" The battery FDC acknowledges and processes a mission for high-explosive munitions (HE) and variable-time fuzes (VT) on the exact grid of the LRRP.

"Just shoot it out here and give us, 'Shot.' We'll get down," a tense voice states, trying to keep as quiet as possible.

The battle rages for several hours, and the battery provides illumination and coordinates reinforcing artillery fires to help the besieged Marines. The FDC listens as the Marines cross talk on the fire direction net, hearing gunfire and shells exploding as the LRRP clings to survival. By 0230, the action is over. The last message from the LRRP sums up what happened, "Man, we were out here all alone and in deep shit until we called you. We love our uniform sierra alpha brothers. Dragon 6, out."

Far fetched? This action took place in Vietnam on 28 June 1968, and the FDC captured the action on a tape recorder. In fact, the FDC replayed it for the soldiers on the gun line so they could understand the urgency of a contact fire mission.

That same LRRP called the battery every week for weeks after, just to wish the Redlegs well and thank them again for the fire support that saved the LRRP that dark night of 28 June. (4)

In the joint world, do we really expect to have this type of compatibility digitally? Do our gun sections and FDCs have this kind of bond with their observers?

Leadership is the most important element of combat power; it is what allows commanders to combine firepower, maneuver, information and protection into a synergistic whole. It is a human endeavor that the information age can only assist, not replace. In the business of fire support, leadership is no less important as it is the human interaction of leaders and soldiers that allow us to make intuitive assessments and bring the decisive effects of fires to bear.

One such case occurred on 16 April 1953 in the struggle for Arsenal Hill during the Korean War. In this action, Second Lieutenant William DeWitt, fresh out of the Officer's Basic Course at Fort Sill, was visiting the front to receive coaching from the experienced First Lieutenant Edward Haley. Unfortunately, Chinese artillery struck the artillery observation post, severely wounding the entire observation team, leaving a blinded DeWitt in charge.

As the Chinese infantry attacked the position, the company continued to fight with small arms and planned "flash fires" with devastating effects on the enemy. However, the determined enemy fought on, breaching the wire and closing in on the bunker complex.

Despite his wounds and inexperience, DeWitt took action. "[DeWitt] had never given an order in war. He had not been authorized to take over from Haley. But one thing prompted him to act. He said to Drake [in the bunker complex], 'I hear grenades outside.' Drake listened and replied, 'You're right.' 'They're coming closer,' said DeWitt, 'and there are more of them.' Filled with self-doubt, he reached for the PRC-10. The radio worked; he was talking to Kimmitt, his battalion commander. Uncertainty filled him as he said it, 'Give us VT fire--lots of it--right on the position.'

"What followed is proof of which lies in the right words spoken at a crucial moment; they have the power to change the course of a life. Back came Kimmitt's voice, 'Very good, very good, very good, Son.' It was like a light suddenly shining on DeWitt....In a matter of seconds--43 of them--the killing shell was breaking over Arsenal Hill directly over DeWitt's head." (5)

In our digital world with requirements for 16 hours of sustainment training per week, do we really expect a new second lieutenant to be able to make the automated system work for him--in contact, wounded and blinded? Will an Effects Management Tool allow a battalion commander to expedite fires while providing reassurance to an untried observer bringing fires in on his own position?

Today's Digital System. A visit to our past shows what we have lost in our 20-year struggle with digital operations and the implications for fire support.

No Soldier-to-Soldier Bonding. First, and most obvious, fire support has lost its soldier-to-soldier bond. Our doctrine and equipment put us in a digital world where faces, emotions and instincts are lost. Fire missions have become anonymous and the routines to process them unaccountable as no one knows the status of the mission once it's transmitted to the next IP.

Our automated system replaces leadership with control, mandating a fire mission run through programmed IPs for approval rather than the commander's intent driving junior leader initiative. How can our digital system accommodate the emotions of Audie Murphy or our Marine LRRP? How can senior leaders sense the urgency of battle and apply seasoned, calm leadership when no emotion comes with the call-for-fire?

Contradicts Leadership and initiative. Our doctrinal system contradicts our leadership doctrine and the initiative that is the hallmark of the US Army. By its very nature, our automated system is very centralized with a series of headquarters screening missions. Today's FSOs believe it is their job to screen missions--not just to clear missions, but to question whether the missions meet the attack criteria derived during the military decision-making process.

This belies our combat history where decentralized execution with subordinates afforded maximum latitude yielded the best results. Who in today's Army would trust a maneuver shooter or a Field Artillery lieutenant to execute a fire mission without supervision? We did so routinely in 1968--what has changed so much today?

Complexity of Our Automated System. Our automated system is very complex and fraught with hazards to derail calls-for-fire. By the time our fire missions have survived the gauntlet of broken communications, IPs, leader decisions and voice relays, we have lost so much time that the mission may no longer be relevant or, worse, that friendly forces may now be in the target area.

With all the intervening headquarters, our FDCs usually have no idea who the observer is. As a result, observers never hear "Shot," never adjust missions and certainly would not get enough warning to "get down." Our rhetoric espouses the virtues of connecting sensors to shooters, but in reality we do just the opposite.

Getting the Lead Out. So how do we fix the system? First, let's recognize some of the virtues of our current system. It has proven its responsiveness and capability far beyond any analog voice system in many areas, of which counterfire and shaping operations beyond the coordinated firing line (CFL) are examples. It is terrific for transmitting large volumes of data with great precision, such as fire support coordinating measures (FSCM), meteorological messages, target lists and howitzer firing commands. It also has proven itself in the simulation world, as the advanced FA tactical data system (AFATDS) is highly regarded as a champion of the Corps Battle Simulation system and would seem well-suited to support division- and corps-level operations. But each of these successes are not connected to the "point of the spear," the soldier under fire. It is at the point--the execution of fires inside the CFL--that we must change. See Figure 2.

Learn from Burger King. We can draw interesting parallels between our fast-food industry and our call-for-fire procedures. If we look at the customers as our forward observers (FOs), the cashiers as our FOCs and the cooks as the gun line, we can learn some lessons in efficiency to improve our system.

Note that in the typical fast-food setup, there are multiple cashiers to process orders simultaneously. With the push of a button, the order is input into the system with allowance for various combinations and options. Burger King kept the cashier-to-customer connection rather than allow the customer to punch in his order. Burger King obviously values the human interaction and is wary of the problems and poor service that might result from "untrained" customers' input into its system. Burger King, in fact, can accept an order from almost any "untrained observer" and does so routinely with tourists from foreign lands.

Note that as the order is completed, a digital burst goes to the cooks to prepare the meal and that within minutes, the server provides the food as ordered. There is no loop that seeks parental approval of the order or matches the order against corporate policy in order to tell the customer what he wants.

The Burger King system maintains the human dimension, leverages digital communications for precision, allows for simultaneous actions, requires little technical training and is incredibly simple.

Simplify the System. Where do we go from here? First, we need to eliminate FO digital devices from our modified tables of organization and equipment (MTOEs). With few exceptions, the FO's equipment does not make him more effective; it merely automates an analog process. In fact, you could argue that the technical training required for him to operate his devices actually make him less effective as time needed for tactical training is diverted to develop technical skills.

What our observers need is a single target location device that, with the touch of a button, provides an accurate 10-digit grid at 10 kilometers, day or night. Currently our observers have to contend with multiple cables, batteries and devices, none of which can produce an accurate grid without combining the features of all.

Second, we need a Burger King-type computer designed to allow FDCs to rapidly process voice fire missions into digital bursts to firing batteries or guns. With this computer, we need a new command and control architecture that allows for decentralized execution and direct sensor-to-shooter communications. The architecture needs multiple voice fire direction nets to accept calls-for-fire with a simple system in the FDC to translate voice calls-for-fire into a digital fire orders. With this architecture, the FDC's job is to coordinate clearance of fires while preparing the guns for the fire mission.

If we truly trust our Field Artillery lieutenants, we will place battery FDCs in charge of those nets and monitor the calls-for-fire at the battalion and task force levels as we did 30 years ago. And we can keep AFATDS at the battery, battalion and task force levels to manage the combat information that is not time-sensitive or critical to the human dimension of our business.

Imagine if we matched a Field Artillery battery with Crusader-like capabilities on four fire direction nets in support of a Stryker Brigade. The system would have extraordinary power to mass fires simultaneously on a distributed battlefield.

No doubt there are digital warriors reading this article who would tell me the Genesis device is on the horizon--that the latest Palm Pilot forward observation device coupled with the new digital radio and the Effects Management Tool will make it all good. Perhaps I am an analog dinosaur who clings to past glories and cannot see the great potential of emerging technology. But I suspect I am one of many who believe that digitized systems simply won't work for close supporting fires and that new equipment cannot fix what is fundamentally wrong.

At best we espouse to "plan digital and execute voice," which has doomed us to fight with an inefficient single voice fires net. This approach has become defacto doctrine despite two decades of official digital doctrine that states otherwise.

The question is, "Do we have the courage to backtrack on digital operations and the information age?" American companies will make what we ask them to make--that's how we got today's system. They can make a system like Burger King's as well.

US Army Field Artillery FOs have long been heralded as the greatest killers on the battlefield, yet today they must use an unreliable, complex and overly centralized system. They have too many radios, devices, cables and batteries to be successful.

We need to simplify their task and increase the flexibility of our fires, leveraging the smartest computer of all, the human mind. We must become more customer-oriented, be able to take any call-for-fire from any friendly force, coordinate clearance and execute down to the last meter.

We must help "Joe" get the lead out. He must have a simple, reliable and fast fire direction system with multiple points of access to fire support and direct sensor-to-shooter links. Finally, Joe must have voice interaction that allows him to sustain the bond with maneuver that is the human dimension of fire support.

Figure 1: Current Doctrine--Execute Fire Support Team (FIST) Fire Missions with FA Cannons

1. FIST sends CFF to the battalion FSE with FEE "When Ready" method of control.

2. The battalion FSE analyzes the target against mortars and FA, selects the FA option and sends the FA fire request to the brigade FSE and mission info to the brigade TAO and FSCOORD. (The fire request may be sent to the brigade TAO and info to the brigade FSE.

3. The brigade FSE analyzes the target to determine the order to fire to the DS FA CP.

4. The FA battalion CP analyzes the target to determine the battery to fire and sends the fire order to the battery FDC.

5. The battery FDC performs technical fire direction, sends howitzer commands to the GDUs and MTO through the battalion FSE to the FIST.

6. The cannon GDUs fire When Ready and send "Shot," "Splash" and "Rounds Complete" to the battery FDC.

7. The battery FDC relays "Shot," "Splash" and "Rounds Complete" through the battalion ESE to the FIST.

8. The FIST observes the fire and sends "End of Mission" through the battalion ESE to the battery EDO.

9. The battery EDO sends "End of Mission" to the cannon GDUs and generates an MER to place the target in an inactive state.

10. The battery EDO sends the MFR to the DS battalion OP to be forwarded to all AEATDS in the mission chain.

Legend:

AFATDS = Advanced Field Artillery Tactical Data System

Bde = Brigade

Bn = Battalion

Btry = Battery

CFF = Call-for-Fire

CP = Command Post

DS = Direct Support

FDC = Fire Direction Center

FFE = Fire for Effect

FSCOORD = Fire Support Coordinator

FSE = Fire Support Element

FOs = Forward Observers

GDUs = Gun Display Units

MFR = Mission Fired Report

MTO = Message to Observer

TAC Tactical Command Post

Endnotes:

(1.) Audie Murphy, To Hell and Sack, Universal Pictures, Inc., 1955.

(2.) Murphy, To Hell and Back, 241-243. Note that correcting fire in World War II required the observer to make corrections off the gun target line. Murphy's command of "50, over" directed the FDC to repeat the mission after reducing the gun target range by 50 meters. This roughly corresponds to today's "drop 50" corrections along the observer target line.

(3.) Ibid., 239. Murphy's initial correction is 200 right. 200 over. Combined With his 350 yards of 50-yard corrections, the initial rounds impacted approximately 550 yards from his position.

(4.) Jim Gleckler, Redleg: An American Artilleryman's Personal Account of the Vietnam War (Miami: Northeastern Oklahoma A&M college, 1985), 112-117.

(5.) S.L.A. Marshall, Pork Chop Hill (Nashville: The Battery Press, 1956), 29.

Colonel Gary H. Cheek commands the 25th Infantry Division (Light) Artillery at Schofield Barracks, Hawaii. He also served as the Senior Fire Support Trainer at the National Training Center, Fort Irwin, California. Other assignments include commanding the 1st Battalion, 9th Field Artillery, 3d Infantry Division (Mechanized), Fort Stewart, Georgia; and serving as Executive Officer of the 1st Battalion, 41st Field Artillery and G3 Plans Officer, both in the 24th Infantry Division (Mechanized) at Fort Stewart; and Exchange Officer at the Canadian Field Artillery School at the Canadian Forces Base Gagetown, New Brunswick, Canada. He also commanded A Battery, 2d Battalion, 28th Field Artillery, part of the 210th Field Artillery Brigade, VII Corps, Germany. He is a graduate of the School of Advanced Military Studies at the Command and General Staff College, Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, and the Army War College at Carlisle Barracks, Pennsylvania.