Special Warfare · 2011. 3. 28. · 24 Theory, Research, Practice: Three Ways to Increase PSYOP Effectiveness by Dr. Mark F. Dyer 31 Army Values: Loyalty — Bull Simons 32 Military

Special WarfareThe Professional Bulletin of the John F. Kennedy Special Warfare Center and School

PB 80–99–4 Fall 1999 Vol. 12, No. 4

In November, the U.S. Army SpecialOperations Command will mark the29th anniversary of the Son Tay Raid bydedicating a statue to “Bull” Simons,who led the raid. Simons is rememberedas a dedicated soldier who was loyal tothe men who served under him. In hon-oring his memory, we recognize his serv-ice, his duty and his loyalty as qualitiesfor which all SOF soldiers should strive.“Bull” Simons richly deserves suchrecognition.

Yet in all our memorialization, we havenot yet recognized the man who did muchto make our modern Army special-opera-tions forces possible. The man whosevision and efforts did most to make psy-chological warfare and unconventionalwarfare permanent capabilities in theU.S. Army is unknown to many soldierswho have spent the majority of theircareers in SOF. I refer to Major GeneralRobert Alexis McClure.

In this issue, Dr. Al Paddock detailsMajor General McClure’s service and therole that Major General McClure playedin the creation of Army SOF. Throughdiligent research, Dr. Paddock has recon-structed the early days of Army specialwarfare. His article shows the planningand the effort that were needed to makean Army special-warfare capability areality.

From his assignments during WorldWar II, Major General McClure acquireda unique appreciation of the value of UWand PSYWAR capabilities. He envisioneda permanent special-warfare capability,and his commitment to that idea causedhim to pursue the concept with militaryand civilian officials after the war. MajorGeneral McClure never gave up, despiteresistance within the Army and fromother agencies. His persistence led to theformation of the Office of the Chief ofPsychological Warfare and, ultimately, to

the creation of the Psychological WarfareCenter at Fort Bragg and to the foundingof the 10th Special Forces Group.

Those of us who serve in Army SOFtoday owe a great debt to Major GeneralMcClure. As we search the past forheroes, we could find no one more deserv-ing of honors than the man whom Dr.Paddock has rightfully called the forgot-ten father of Army special warfare,Robert Alexis McClure. I am confidentthat Major General McClure will receivethe proper recognition that he has sowell earned.

Major General Kenneth R. Bowra

From the CommandantSpecial Warfare

Features2 Robert Alexis McClure: Forgotten Father of Army Special

Warfareby Dr. Alfred H. Paddock Jr.

10 Steel Wings and a Wielded Sword: The 160th SOARby General Henry H. Shelton

14 Cognitive and Personality Assessment in Special ForcesAssessment and Selectionby Major Gary A. Hazlett and Dr. Michael Sanders

21 The 1999 SF Conference: Setting a New Standardby Lieutenant Colonel Dan Adelstein

24 Theory, Research, Practice: Three Ways to Increase PSYOPEffectivenessby Dr. Mark F. Dyer

31 Army Values: Loyalty — Bull Simons

32 Military Legitimacy in OOTW: Civilians as Mission Prioritiesby Colonel Rudolph C. Barnes Jr.

44 Armageddon 2000: Military Implications of the Y2K Problemby Dr. James J. Schneider

Departments50 1999 Index

52 Letters

56 Enlisted Career Notes

58 Officer Career Notes

60 Foreign SOF

62 Update

64 Book Reviews

PB 80–99–4 ContentsFall 1999 Special Warfare Vol. 12, No. 4

Commander & CommandantMajor General Kenneth R. Bowra

EditorJerry D. Steelman

Associate EditorSylvia W. McCarley

Graphics & DesignBruce S. Barfield

Automation ClerkGloria H. Sawyer

Special Warfare is an authorized, official quarterly of theUnited States Army John F. Kennedy Special WarfareCenter and School, Fort Bragg, North Carolina. Its missionis to promote the professional development of special-operations forces by providing a forum for the examinationof established doctrine and new ideas.

Views expressed herein are those of the authors and donot necessarily reflect official Army position. Thispublication does not supersede any information presentedin other official Army publications.

Articles, photos, artwork and letters are invited andshould be addressed to Editor, Special Warfare,USAJFKSWCS, Fort Bragg, NC 28307-5000. Telephone:DSN 239-5703, commercial (910) 432-5703, fax -3147.Special Warfare reserves the right to edit all material.

Published works may be reprinted, except wherecopyrighted, provided credit is given to Special Warfareand the authors.

Official distribution is limited to active and reservespecial-operations units. Individuals desiring privatesubscriptions should forward their requests to:Superintendent of Documents, U.S. GovernmentPrinting Office, Washington, D.C. 20402. SpecialWarfare is also available on the USASOC internal web(http://asociweb.soc.mil/swcs/dotd/sw-mag/sw-mag.htm).

V E R I T A S

STREBIL

A

E T

By Order of the Secretary of the Army:Eric K. ShinsekiGeneral, United States ArmyChief of Staff

Official:

Joel B. HudsonAdministrative Assistant to theSecretary of the Army

9920302

Headquarters, Department of the Army

Where is the monument to honorthe man who provided the visionand the impetus for establishing

U.S. Army special warfare? More than 42years after his death, visitors to SmokeBomb Hill still find no evidence of his placein special-operations history. In fact, mostSOF soldiers are unfamiliar with his name.Robert Alexis McClure is the forgottenfather of Army special warfare.

McClure was born March 4, 1897, inMattoon, Ill. After graduating from Ken-tucky Military Institute in 1915, he servedwith the Philippine Constabulary as a sec-ond lieutenant. On Aug. 9, 1917, he earneda Regular Army commission and was pro-moted to first lieutenant. From then untilthe eve of World War II, he served in a vari-ety of infantry and service-school assign-ments in China and in the United States.During the interwar years, McClure, likeother career officers, found promotionexcruciatingly slow: he served in the rankof captain for 17 years.

By 1941, however, McClure was a lieu-tenant colonel with orders to London,where he was to serve as the assistant mil-itary attaché. In swift succession, heearned promotions to colonel and brigadiergeneral, and he became the militaryattaché to the American Embassy in Lon-don. As an additional duty, he served asmilitary attaché to nine European govern-ments in exile. In September 1942, Gener-al Dwight D. Eisenhower appointedMcClure to his Allied Forces headquartersas chief of intelligence for the Europeantheater of operations. During the nextthree months, McClure’s career took a newdirection — one that would immerseMcClure in a new and different field formost of the rest of his life.

In December 1942, from “somewhere inAfrica,” McClure wrote to his wife, Marjo-ry: “My new job — for which I was called by

2 Special Warfare

Robert Alexis McClure: Forgotten Father of Army Special Warfare

by Dr. Alfred H. Paddock Jr.

Robert A. McClure as acadet at the Kentucky Mil-itary Institute, December1912.

Photo courtesy Robert D. McClure

Ike — very hurriedly — is a continualheadache — I have what I call the INC Sec-tion — I am just creating it.” In prepara-tion for the North African landings, Eisen-hower had put McClure in charge of theInformation and Censorship Section, orINC, of the Allied Forces headquarters. Itwas McClure’s job to consolidate severalfunctions for which most Army officers hadlittle preparation: public relations, censor-ship and psychological warfare. AsMcClure colorfully stated, the job also car-ried with it a “slop over into civil affairs.”

The INC was, indeed, an ungainly organ-ization that included military and civilianpersonnel from the U.S. Office of War Infor-mation, or OWI; the U.S. Office of StrategicServices, or OSS; the British Political War-fare Executive, or PWE; and the U.S. Army.McClure vividly outlined the scope of hisnew responsibilities in a September 1943letter to Marjory:

We operate 12 high powered radio sta-tions — 6 of them are stronger than WLWin Cincinnati. My Psychological Warfarestaff — radio, leaflet, signals, front line,occupation, domestic propaganda person-nel, exceed 700. In censorship — troop,mail, and cables, civilian mail, radio, press,

cables, telephone for all of North & WestAfrica, Sicily, etc., over 400 personnel &supervising 700 French. Public relations —press and correspondents — 150 correspon-dents — 250 personnel — a total “com-mand” of 1500 in an organization nevercontemplated in the Army.

By the end of the North African andSicilian campaigns, McClure believed thatpsychological warfare had become, for him,the “big job,” and he felt good about its con-tribution: “Our propaganda did a lot tobreak the Wops — as their emissariesadmit — now we have to turn it on the Ger-mans,” he wrote to Marjory. But the “bigjob” was to become even bigger.

In early 1944, General Eisenhowerauthorized the establishment of the Psy-chological Warfare Division of the SupremeHeadquarters, Allied Expeditionary Force,or PWD/SHAEF, to support the Europeancampaign against Nazi Germany. McClure,as its director, controlled and coordinatedpsychological warfare in continentalEurope. For years afterward, he empha-sized that PWD was built upon the trial-and-error experience of his ordeal in start-ing up and running INC in North Africa —in particular, the Psychological Warfare

Fall 1999 3


As a brigadier general,McClure was assignedas military attaché to theAmerican Embassy inLondon. Here, he standsoutside No. 10 DowningStreet, next to BritishPrime Minister WinstonChurchill.

Branch. In North Africa and in Europe,McClure’s definition of psychological war-fare was quite concise, yet inclusive, bytoday’s standards: “The dissemination ofpropaganda designed to undermine theenemy’s will to resist, demoralize his forcesand sustain the morale of our supporters.”

In Europe, PWD made radio broadcastsfrom OWI transmitters and over theBritish Broadcasting Corporation; conduct-ed loudspeaker broadcasts on the frontlines; and conducted large-scale leafletoperations using specially designated air-craft squadrons. PWD even providedleaflets to be dispersed by the then-novelmethod of specially designed artilleryshells. McClure had four deputies, eachrepresenting a civilian agency that con-tributed personnel to PWD: OWI, OSS,PWE, and the British Ministry of Informa-tion. By the end of the war in Europe, PWDcontrolled the activities of more than 2,300military and civilian personnel from twocountries. As he had in the North Africanand Italian campaigns, McClure demon-strated his ability to manage personnel of

quite different backgrounds and tempera-ments. It was one of his most successfulleadership traits.

But even after V-E day, McClure’s jobwas far from finished. Eisenhower onceagain called upon McClure, directing himto participate in planning for the occupa-tion of Germany. McClure jubilantly wroteto Marjory on May 8, 1945:

The shooting war is over, here! Signedyesterday. Paris is wild with excitement. …With one phase over I am now up to myneck on the control phase. We will rigidlycontrol all newspapers, films, theatre, radio,music, etc., in Germany! My division nowpublishes 8 newspapers in Germany with1,000,000 circulation and sends 2 million+language papers each day by air for dis-placed persons and POWs. Biggest newspa-per enterprise in the world.

Essentially, McClure’s Psychological War-fare Division changed names, becoming theInformation Control Division, or ICD. ICDtook on a new role as a key player in thereorientation and de-Nazification of Ger-many. The change was not totally abrupt —

4 Special Warfare


General Dwight D. Eisen-hower presents the Distin-guished Service Medal toBrigadier General McClurein 1944. The award recog-nized McClure’s accom-plishments as chief of psy-chological warfare, SHAEF.

during the combat phase PWD workedclosely in support of Civil Affairs with its“consolidation propaganda,” the purpose ofwhich was both to gain the cooperation ofthe German population in restoring essen-tial services, and to create a public opinionfavorable to post-war Allied aims. ICD thusbecame an integral part of the U.S. military-government (or Civil Affairs) effort in theU.S. portion of occupied Germany. McClurereported to General Lucius D. Clay, the U.S.military governor.

The reorientation of the German popula-tion was a formidable task. McClureundertook it in three phases: first, the com-plete shutdown of all media; second, opera-tion by U.S. forces of selected instrumentsof information (radio, newspapers, etc.);and, third, a gradual turnover of theseinstruments, by licensing them to carefullyselected Germans. McClure’s aims were tocause individual Germans to renounceNazism and militarism, and to help themtake their place in a democratic society.McClure’s ICD organization mirrored theGerman media, with five “control” branch-es for radio, press, film, theater and music,and publications. A sixth branch, intelli-gence, focused on public-opinion research,with emphasis on German bureaucracies,youth, and the church. ICD had a wide-ranging charter, indeed, as McClure wroteto his friend and vice-president of Time-Life, Inc., C.D. Jackson, in July 1946:

We now control 37 newspapers, 6 radiostations, 314 theatres, 642 movies, 101 mag-azines, 237 book publishers, 7,384 bookdealers and printers, and conduct about 15public opinion surveys a month, as well aspublish one newspaper with 1,500,000 cir-culation, 3 magazines, run the AssociatedPress of Germany (DANA), and operate 20library centers. … The job is tremendous.

In the summer of 1948, the Army decid-ed that McClure’s experience could best beused in a similar assignment in the U.S. Aschief of the New York field office of theArmy’s Civil Affairs Division, McClure wasresponsible for supporting U.S. reorienta-tion and re-education efforts in the occu-pied countries of Germany, Austria, Japanand Korea. He reported to Major GeneralDaniel Noce, chief of Civil Affairs in the

Pentagon, whose office serviced and con-trolled all military government in occupiedareas. As he had done in his previousassignment in Germany, McClure organ-ized the New York field office into sectionsfor press, periodicals, motion pictures,radio, theater, music, arts, exhibits,libraries, and book rights.

There was, however, another aspect ofMcClure’s activities during the postwarperiod that would bear importantly on thefuture of Army special warfare. After themassive demobilization of U.S. militaryforces during 1945-46, American concernsabout the Soviet Union’s intentions grew inintensity, ushering in the Cold War.

For four years, McClure engaged in adialogue with a number of high-ranking

officers and civilian officials in an effort torebuild the military psychological-warfarecapability that had essentially been dissi-pated during the general demobilization.In a letter to the War Department in early1946, McClure advocated the integration ofmaterial on psychological warfare intoservice-school curricula, stating, “The igno-rance, among military personnel, aboutpsychological warfare, even now, isastounding.” In June 1947, McClure sent amemo to his old boss from World War II —now Army Chief of Staff Dwight Eisenhow-er — urging, “Psychological warfare mustbecome a part of every future war plan.” InNovember of that year, McClure gaveEisenhower a list of former PWD/SHAEFstaff members that he recommended forforming a psychological-warfare reserve.

McClure continued his correspondence,consultations and exhortations with theWar Department, but it was not until theNorth Korean invasion of South Korea inJune 1950 that his efforts bore fruit. Short-ly after that shocking event, Major Gener-

Fall 1999 5

In June 1947, McClure sent a memo to hisold boss from World War II — now ArmyChief of Staff Dwight Eisenhower — urging,‘Psychological warfare must become a partof every future war plan.’

al Charles Bolte, the Army Staff G3,requested that McClure report to Washing-ton for a few days to help him determine,with respect to psychological warfare, “thefurther organizational steps necessary tomeet the operational requirements of theKorean situation or of a general war.” Thelatter contingency was key: Even duringthe Far East crisis, the Army believed thatthe greater threat lay in a potential inva-sion of Western Europe by the SovietUnion, and it wanted to create an uncon-ventional-warfare capability primarily forthe conduct of guerrilla warfare in Europein the event of a Soviet invasion. Bolteadded, “I know of no one better qualified toassist us in that respect.” For McClure, “afew days,” became the formative years ofArmy special warfare.

On the basis of McClure’s recommenda-

tions, the Army first established a psycho-logical-warfare division in the G3, withMcClure as its first chief, and then made ita special staff office reporting directly tothe Army chief of staff. Because of his asso-ciation with the OSS during World War II,McClure appreciated the potential ofunconventional warfare, and he lobbied for,and received, staff proponency for UW aswell. On Jan. 15, 1951, the Army formallyrecognized the Office of the Chief of Psy-chological Warfare, or OCPW — the firstorganization of its type in Army history.Although McClure’s new office started outwith a staff of only five men, that numbereventually grew to more than 100.

OCPW’s mission was “to formulate anddevelop psychological warfare and specialoperations plans for the Army in conso-nance with established policy and to recom-

6 Special Warfare

McClure as chief of theNew York field office ofthe Army’s Civil AffairsDivision.


mend policies for and supervise the execu-tion of Department of the Army programs inthese fields.” McClure organized his officeinto three divisions: Psychological Warfare,Requirements and Special Operations. Thelatter was particularly significant, becauseit formulated plans for the creation of theArmy’s first formal unconventional-warfarecapability: Special Forces.

Realizing that his firsthand experiencewas basically in psychological warfare andCivil Affairs, McClure told his staff earlyon that he was “fighting for officers withbackground and experience in special oper-ations.” He brought into the Special Opera-tions Division several officers who hadWorld War II or Korean War experienceeither in guerrilla warfare or in long-range-penetration units.

Two officers who played particularly keyroles in developing the plans for the cre-ation of Special Forces were Colonel AaronBank and Lieutenant Colonel Russell Vol-ckmann. Bank had fought with the FrenchMaquis as a member of OSS. Volckmannhad organized and conducted guerrilla-warfare operations in the Philippines dur-ing World War II; during the Korean War,he had planned and directed behind-the-lines operations in North Korea.

Volckmann later remembered thatMcClure had approached him in WalterReed Hospital (where Volckmann had beenevacuated from Korea) with a request tohelp organize the Special Operations Divi-sion. It was only after being assured thatthe Army was interested in organizedbehind-the-lines operations that Volck-mann agreed to take the job. Bank latergave Volckmann considerable credit for the“development of position, planning, andpolicy papers that helped sell the estab-lishment of Special Forces units in theactive Army.”

McClure assumed a leading role in “sell-ing” the need for an unconventional-war-fare capability to the senior military andcivilian leadership. In the face of fierceresistance, not only within the Army butalso from the CIA, Special Forces became areality largely through the persistence ofMcClure and through the efforts of Bankand Volckmann. With personnel spaces

available from disbanding the Ranger com-panies in Korea, the Army chief of staffapproved the activation of Special Forcesin early 1952.

Creating an unconventional-warfarecapability was not the only challenge onOCPW’s plate. When the Korean War brokeout in June 1950, the Tactical InformationDetachment at Fort Riley, Kan., was theonly operational psychological-warfaretroop unit in the Army. After its deploy-ment to Korea, the detachment became the1st Loudspeaker and Leaflet, or L&L, Com-pany, and it served as the 8th Army’s tacti-cal-propaganda unit throughout the con-flict. By April 1951, McClure had requestedthe activation of the 1st Radio Broadcast-ing and Leaflet, or RB&L, Group to assist

the Far East Command, or FECOM, in con-ducting strategic propaganda; the 2nd L&Lcompany at Fort Riley, a prototype unit; the5th L&L Company at Fort Riley, scheduledto be sent to FECOM); and the 301st(Reserve) RB&L Group, to be trained atFort Riley and then shipped to Europe.Thus, while he was in the process ofstaffing his own unprecedented office —OCPW — McClure moved quickly to assistFECOM in its organization and conduct ofboth psychological warfare and unconven-tional warfare, while he concurrentlyhelped the European Command preparefor the employment of both capabilities inthe event of a war with the Soviet Union.

One other part of McClure’s visionremained to be accomplished — centraliz-ing the functions of what he called, “thewhole field of OCPW.” Psychological war-fare possessed a formal lineage and a tra-

Fall 1999 7

McClure assumed a leading role in ‘selling’ theneed for an unconventional-warfare capabilityto the senior military and civilian leadership.In the face of fierce resistance, … SpecialForces became a reality largely through thepersistence of McClure and through theefforts of Bank and Volckmann.

dition in the Army, which unconventionalwarfare did not, and McClure believed thatthe two capabilities should be combinedunder a single headquarters.

During that period of postwar budgetaryausterity, McClure encountered consider-able resistance to this idea, but he was ableto convince the Army chief of staff, GeneralJ. Lawton Collins, that a central organiza-tion was necessary for consolidating thetraining activities for psychological war-fare and Special Forces. Accordingly, inMay 1952, the Army formally announcedthe activation of the Psychological WarfareCenter at Fort Bragg, N.C. Its mission was:

To conduct individual training andsupervise unit training in PsychologicalWarfare and Special Forces Operations; todevelop and test Psychological Warfare andSpecial Forces doctrine, procedures, tactics,and techniques; to test and evaluate equip-ment employed in Psychological Warfareand Special Forces Operations.

As it was originally established, the Psy-chological Warfare Center consisted of thePsychological Warfare School, the 6thRB&L Group, a psychological-warfareboard (to test materiel, doctrine, tech-

niques and tactics for psychological war-fare and for Special Forces), and the 10thSpecial Forces Group. Colonel CharlesKarlstad, former chief of staff of theInfantry Center at Fort Benning, Ga., wasthe first to serve as commander of the Cen-ter and commandant of the PsychologicalWarfare School. The Psychological WarfareSchool’s organization reflected the Center’smission. It consisted of a headquartersstaff and two instructional divisions — onefor psychological warfare, the other forSpecial Forces.

Initially, the 6th RB&L Group was thelargest unit in the Center’s force structure.Formed at Fort Riley and then shipped toFort Bragg in June 1952, the 6th consistedof a headquarters company, the 7th Repro-duction Company, the 8th Mobile RadioBroadcasting Company and the 2nd L&LCompany. In May 1953, OCPW activatedthe 12th Consolidation Company under the6th RB&L Group. The organizational con-cept of the 6th RB&L Group, the forerun-ner of today’s psychological-operationsgroup, was first employed in Korea. Theancestry of the mobile radio company,however, can be traced to McClure’sPWD/SHAEF, which used several suchcompanies to support front-line combatforces in Europe during World War II.

McClure selected Bank from the OCPWstaff to command the 10th Special ForcesGroup. Bank’s “command” in June 1952 con-sisted of seven enlisted men and one war-rant officer — a rather inauspicious begin-ning. But by April 1953, with the aid of vig-orous OCPW recruiting efforts throughoutthe Army, the 10th had increased to 1,700officers and enlisted men.

Essentially, the 10th Special ForcesGroup represented a pool of trained man-power from which units or combinations ofunits could be drawn to execute specificunconventional-warfare missions. At theheart of the group’s organization was theoperational detachment, or “team,” estab-lished along the same lines as the OSSoperational group. Commanded by a cap-tain, the team, with a first-lieutenant exec-utive officer and 13 NCOs, was capable ofinfiltrating behind enemy lines to organize,train and direct friendly resistance forces

8 Special Warfare

McClure with the Shah ofIran in 1955. McCluredeveloped a close rap-port with the Shah andwith his senior generalofficers.


in guerrilla warfare. Early training focusedon the individual skills of the various mem-bers of the team: operations and intelli-gence, light and heavy weapons, demoli-tions, radio communications, and medical.Each man trained thoroughly in his partic-ular specialty, then participated in cross-training to learn the rudiments of the otherskills.

By early 1953, most of McClure’s majorprograms had been launched; nevertheless,he was surprised to learn that he was beingassigned to Iran as chief of the U.S. MilitaryMission. The rationale was that he had beenin a specialized activity too long. The Armychief of staff, General Collins, implied thatMcClure’s chances for promotion would beenhanced by the new assignment.

In Iran, McClure formed close associationswith the Shah and the Iranian senior mili-tary. As Collins had predicted, McClure waspromoted to major general. In 1956, McClureretired from the Army, ending more than 39years of continuous active service. While dri-ving cross-country with Marjory to SanClemente, Calif., where they planned to buildtheir dream home, McClure became serious-ly ill. He died of a heart attack at FortHuachuca, Ariz., on Jan. 1, 1957, two monthsprior to his 60th birthday.

Robert A. McClure’s position as thefounder of Army special warfare seemsindisputable. Over a critical period of 10years, he made vital contributions to psy-chological warfare, to Civil Affairs, and tothe creation of Army Special Forces. But hismost important legacy may have been theestablishment of the Psychological WarfareCenter. From its humble beginning, thatinstitution grew, becoming the Special War-fare Center in 1956 and later evolving intothe U.S. Army Special Operations Com-mand and the U.S. Army Special WarfareCenter and School. Yet despite the fact thatMcClure made all these things possible, hisrole has gone largely unrecognized. RobertA. McClure remains the forgotten father ofU.S. Army special warfare.

Author’s note: I first read about MajorGeneral Robert A. McClure during the1970s, while I was conducting research inthe National Archives for my Ph.D. disser-

tation on the origins of the Army’s special-warfare capability. Having served severaltours with Special Forces during the 1960swithout ever reading or hearing about him,I was amazed to discover the central rolethat McClure played in the creation of apermanent psychological- and unconven-tional-warfare capability. This article isdrawn from that dissertation in history atDuke University; from my subsequent book,U.S. Army Special Warfare: Its Origins(National Defense University Press, 1982);and from my more recent research in Gen-eral McClure’s personal papers. I am deeplyindebted to Colonel Robert D. McClure, U.S.Air Force (Ret.), and his wife, Betty Ann, forgiving me complete access to GeneralMcClure’s papers.

Dr. Alfred H. Paddock Jr.completed his 31-year Armycareer as a colonel in October1988. His military careerincluded command and staffassignments in Korea, Laos,Okinawa, Vietnam and theU.S. He served three combat tours with SFunits in Southeast Asia. Among his variedassignments, Paddock was an instructor ofstrategic studies at the U.S. Army Com-mand and General Staff College; he servedin the Politico-Military Division of theArmy Staff in Washington, D.C.; he com-manded the 6th PSYOP Battalion and the4th PSYOP Group at Fort Bragg; and hewas the military member of the Secretary’sPolicy Planning Staff, Department of State.Paddock completed his military career asthe Director for PSYOP, Office of the Secre-tary of Defense. A graduate of the U.S. ArmyCommand and General Staff College andthe U.S. Army War College, he earned a B.A.in political science from Park College. Pad-dock also holds M.A. and Ph.D. degrees inhistory from Duke University.

Fall 1999 9

Throughout my career I have servedwith, fought alongside, and hadadmiration for the Army aviators

who accompany special-operations forcesinto battle. In Vietnam, few served withmore courage or with more distinctionthan the pilots, crew chiefs and gunnerswho supported Special Forces. Hoveringoverhead, often in the face of witheringenemy fire, they provided critical fire sup-port and a vital lifeline to their comradesfighting on the ground below.

There is not a day in my life that I do notpause for a moment and reflect on thebravery displayed by one of those aviators,

Captain Bob Moe-berg. Bob was thepilot of a helicopterthat extracted mySpecial Forces Pro-ject Delta teamfrom the jungleafter we had spentseven days evadingNorth Vietnameseforces. As Bob ma-neuvered the air-

craft overhead, the crew chief lowered thejungle penetrator; however, even whenfully extended, it did not reach all the waydown through the triple-canopy jungle, andit was just out of reach for most of myteam. We were finally able to lift the teammembers up to reach the penetrator, andthen I jumped up, barely snagging it.

As I was winched up through the junglecanopy, I could see where the rotor bladeswere striking the treetops. Bob had had tohover that low, risking himself, his crew, andhis aircraft just to reach us. As I looked intothe cockpit, I could see Bob’s fiercely deter-mined face, a look of intense concentrationand absolute focus, tinged by apprehensionabout enemy fire and whether the bladeswould survive the beating they had takenfrom striking the treetops.

I have never forgotten the feel of thatvibrating Huey as it rolled out and gainedaltitude; nor have I ever forgotten thecourage of that warrior and his crew as theyaccomplished a very dangerous mission.

Those aviators who flew with and foughtalongside Special Forces in Vietnam willalways have a special place in my heart,and their valor is without question. How-ever, during the war and throughout the1970s, there was no permanent special-operations aviation organization. The trag-ic experience at Desert One in Iran in 1980was the event that finally, and with unmis-takable clarity, demonstrated the need forthe superb rotary-wing capability that the160th Special Operations Aviation Regi-ment now provides. In a very real sense,Desert One was the catalyst that led to thecreation of special-operations aviation.

If we compare the venerable Huey of theVietnam era with the highly sophisticatedaircraft in the regiment today — aircraftthat are air-refuelable and that are outfit-

10 Special Warfare

Steel Wings and a Wielded Sword: The 160th SOAR

by General Henry H. Shelton

DoD photo

ted with the latest avionics and night-vision capabilities — it is easy to see howfar we have come in developing special-operations aviation. While the technologyhas changed dramatically, the courage,skill and determination of the men whoflew with Special Forces in Vietnamremain and have flourished in those whofly with the 160th today.

Throughout the short history of the160th, its aviators have pioneered nightflight tactics and techniques, led the devel-opment of new equipment and procedures,met the call to duty wherever it sounded,and earned a reputation for excellence andvalor that is second to none. From their1983 baptism of fire in Grenada to today,the 160th aviators have always lived up totheir motto, “Night Stalkers Don’t Quit. ”

Indeed, the history of the regiment is atale of courage, honor and glory againstseemingly insurmountable odds in farawayplaces and in skies filled with danger.While there are many noteworthy chaptersin the annals of the 160th, an unforget-table episode was written in an ancient,windswept city on the Horn of Africa dur-ing the hot, terrible summer of 1993, when

elements of the 160th deployed to Somaliaas part of Task Force Ranger. The heroismdisplayed by the regiment’s members inthat war-torn country forged a record thatwill endure forever.

On Oct. 3, 1993, the regiment lost fivecrewmen and two MH-60 aircraft inMogadishu to hostile ground fire, and three

more aircraft were hit so badly that theyhad to make emergency landings. In themidst of this chaos, in the most intensefirefight since Vietnam, the pilots and crewchiefs of the 160th displayed incrediblebravery and valor, as well as a tremendoussense of self-sacrifice.

On that day, in a valiant attempt to res-

Fall 1999 11

Today’s special-opera-tions helicopters, like thisMH-60, with their sophis-ticated avionics and capa-bilities for night-visionand for in-flight refueling,are a far cry from theHuey of the Vietnam era.

DoD photo

Throughout the short history of the 160th, itsaviators have pioneered night flight tactics andtechniques, led the development of new equip-ment and procedures, met the call to dutywherever it sounded, and earned a reputationfor excellence and valor that is second to none.

cue wounded comrades on the groundbelow, two very special, special-operationssoldiers, Master Sergeant Gary Gordonand Sergeant First Class Randy Shugart,jumped from a Black Hawk into a blazingfirefight. The nation knows about thedeeds of these two great NCOs, deeds forwhich they were posthumously awarded

the Medal of Honor, but few know aboutthe countless acts of valor performed bythe members of the 160th in that battle.

After inserting Gordon and Shugart intoa hail of fire, the Black Hawk, with the callsign Super 62, went into an overhead orbitto provide close air support. Despite beingpounded by extremely heavy fire from

automatic weapons and rocked by explo-sions from volleys of rocket-propelledgrenades, Super 62 remained in position,kept aloft by its pilots, Chief Warrant Offi-cer Mike Goffena and Captain Jim Yacone,while its crew, Staff Sergeants Paul Shan-non and Mason Hall, covered their fellowsoldiers on the ground. To those who werewatching, the aircraft seemed, at times, todefy the laws of physics, and it became sobadly damaged that Goffena had to makean emergency landing.

While their heroism was noteworthy, itwas the norm that day, repeated in innu-merable other incidents that took place inthe center of Mogadishu. Two other unas-suming pilots, true “quiet professionals,”Chief Warrant Officers Keith Jones andKarl Maier, were flying an MH-6 “LittleBird” with the call sign Star 41. Star 41was literally the cavalry coming to the res-cue of the soldiers trapped in a hellish partof that ancient city.

Jones and Maier landed in an alley withjust two feet of rotor clearance from thewalls on either side. Jones leapt out, foughthis way over to two wounded special oper-ators and then struggled back to the air-

12 Special Warfare

U.S. Army photo

A Black Hawk helicopterfrom the 160th SOAR fliesover burning oil fields inKuwait during OperationDesert Storm. The aviatorsof the 160th have earned areputation for valor andexcellence.

While there are many noteworthy chapters in theannals of the 160th, an unforgettable episodewas written in an ancient, windswept city on theHorn of Africa during the hot, terrible summer of1993, when elements of the 160th deployed toSomalia as part of Task Force Ranger.

craft with them. Meanwhile, Maier heldthe controls of the helicopter with his righthand while firing his MP-5 submachinegun with his left. Amid a hail of small-armsfire, and with enemy soldiers dead andwounded all around, Star 41 and its crewlifted off with the wounded special opera-tors on board.

Not long after Star 41 had taken off,another Black Hawk, flown by WarrantOfficer Dan Jollata, was hovering over thecity while two Air Force pararescuemen, orPJs, Master Sergeant Scott Fales and Tech-nical Sergeant Tim Wilkinson, fast-ropedin. As Jollata held his hover, a rocket-pro-pelled grenade exploded on the left side ofthe aircraft. Realizing immediately thathis aircraft had been hit and that it wasbadly damaged, Jollata nevertheless avoid-ed his natural inclination to pull up andget away, knowing that such a move woulddoom Fales and Wilkinson. Despite thehelicopter’s damaged main rotor housingand a destroyed cooling system, Jollataheld his hover. Only when the PJs were onthe ground did he attempt to fly his crip-pled aircraft back to base.

While all of this was going on, four of theNight Stalkers’ AH-6 “Gunbirds” madescores of gun runs — in all, 280 runs over18 consecutive hours! — providing deadlyand accurate fire, some of it “danger close,”to help the soldiers on the ground holdtheir perimeter. All told, the gunbirds firedmore than 50,000 machine-gun rounds and70 rockets during the battle.

How do you describe these actions to theaverage American? They are almost unbe-lievable, even by today’s action-moviestandards. The fact that the events tookplace as described here defies comprehen-sion. Uncommon valor was indeed a com-mon virtue that day in the 160th.

There is a passage from scripture thathelps us understand such courage. Inwords that might have been written espe-cially for the Night Stalkers, the Lordspeaks to the prophet Isaiah, asking,“Whom shall I send, and who will go forus?” Isaiah answers: “Here am I; sendme!”

Whenever the nation calls, the 160thresponds: “Here am I; send me!” That

response reveals the matchless courage,the spirit of service and self-sacrifice, andthe willingness to do or die that lie at thevery heart of what the Night Stalkers do,who they are, and why they and all of ourother special operators are a nationaltreasure.

General Henry H. Sheltonis chairman of the JointChiefs of Staff. Prior toassuming this position, heserved as commander inchief of the U. S. SpecialOperations Command, Mac-Dill AFB, Fla. General Shelton’s otherassignments include commanding general,XVIII Airborne Corps and Fort Bragg; com-mander, 82nd Airborne Division; and assis-tant division commander for operations,101st Airborne Division (Air Assault). Healso served as the Joint Task Force com-mander during Operation Uphold Democ-racy in Haiti. General Shelton holds abachelor’s degree from N. C. State Universi-ty and a master’s degree in political sciencefrom Auburn University. He is a graduateof the Infantry Officer Basic and Advancedcourses, the Air Command and Staff Col-lege and the National War College.

Fall 1999 13

In the Winter 1999 edition of Spe-cial Warfare, Lieutenant ColonelManuel Diemer and Major

Thomas Joyce, authors of “SpecialForces Entry-Level Training: Visionfor the Future,” state, “Mental evalu-ations are not a significant part ofthe current assessment-and-selec-tion process.” This statement sug-gests that Special Forces Assessmentand Selection, or SFAS, makes noformal attempt to assess the cogni-tive aspects of SF candidates. But infact, the current SFAS program usesa variety of measures to assess eachcandidate’s behavioral stability andcognitive aptitude.

This article will show how thecurrently available indicators ofcognitive aptitude and behavioralstability relate to the candidate’sperformance in SFAS and in theSpecial Forces QualificationCourse, or SFQC.

To assess a candidate’s academ-ic potential and cognitive func-tioning, SFAS relies mainly onfour indicators: the soldier’srecord of formal education; scoresfrom the Armed Services Voca-tional Aptitude Battery, orASVAB; an achievement test inthe area of basic education, orTABE; and the Wonderlic Person-nel Test, a brief measure that has

a significant correlation to one’soverall intelligence. While othermeasures may be used to providesupplemental data, these fourindicators represent the corecomponents of the cognitiveassessment of SF candidates.

Education levelThe average SFAS candidate has a

high school education and one yearof college or equivalent training.

Of 4,561 candidates assessed dur-ing the past four years, 168 had ageneral equivalency diploma, orGED, vs. a traditional high-schooldiploma. The SFAS success rate forthese candidates was about halfthat of the candidates overall. Can-didates with GEDs had a 26.8-per-cent success rate in SFAS — inother words, nearly three out of fourwere not selected. Of all the soldierswith GEDs who attended SFASfrom 1989 to 1998, only 14.4 percentgraduated from SFQC. That successrate is also about half that of thegroup as a whole.

ASVAB testingThe ASVAB yields a number of

subscores that reflect a candidate’saptitude for various kinds of mili-tary activities. However, the gener-

al technical, or GT, score is consid-ered the best indicator of a sub-ject’s overall cognitive potential. Inan adequately normed group, a GTscore of 100 indicates that the sub-ject’s performance is average; i.e., itis as good as or better than that of50 percent of the recruits whomade up the normative sample. AGT score of 100 is not equal to anIQ score of 100 (suggesting aver-age-range cognitive potential). AGT score of around 108 is roughlyequivalent to a score of 100 (aver-age) on a standardized test.

The minimum GT score foracceptance into SFAS is 100, whichensures that candidates possess anaverage cognitive aptitude or high-er. Over the years, the minimumGT score has varied from 110 to100, but despite the changing crite-ria, the average scores of those whovolunteer for SFAS and of thosewho complete the program havechanged little over the past decade.The average GT score for SFAScandidates is 115, indicating thatin terms of cognitive aptitude andacademic abilities, the averagecandidate ranks among the upperthird of all soldiers.

The ASVAB GT data chartreflects the scores of SFAS candi-dates from 1989 to late 1998.

14 Special Warfare

Cognitive and Personality Assessment in Special Forces Assessment and Selection

by Major Gary A. Hazlett and Dr. Michael Sanders

Because GT scores are not avail-able for most officers, the data pri-marily reflect the performance ofenlisted soldiers.

The graph depicts the successrates for soldiers whose GT scoreswere in the ranges indicated. Sol-diers who scored from 100 to 109typically had a significantly lowersuccess rate in SFAS. In fact,there was a marked drop in suc-cess rates for soldiers who scoredbelow 115. An increase or adecrease in the GT score usuallyresults in a corresponding in-crease or decrease in the successrate in SFAS. A difference of oneor two points in the GT score mayseem trivial, but in data from arecent four-year sample, candi-dates who scored above 110 had a25-percent higher success ratethan those who scored below 110.At the same time, the success ratefor soldiers with scores signifi-cantly above the average (120 orhigher) was not markedly better

than for those with averagescores.

Wonderlic Personnel Test The Wonderlic Personnel Test is a

brief, timed test that measures one’smathematical skills and, to a lesserextent, one’s verbal abilities. TheWonderlic norms, developed in1992, are based on the test scores ofmore than 118,000 job applicantsthroughout the civilian population.The Wonderlic correlates closely toother standardized tests of intelli-gence, which suggests that it is anexcellent indicator of an individual’slikely cognitive potential.

Ever since SFAS began intellec-tual testing, it has used the Won-derlic. Early in-house studiesestablished that the average SFAScandidate’s Wonderlic score waswell above that of the nationalaverage, which is consistent withobservations in almost every othermeasure that has been or is being

used in SFAS. SFAS developed itsown set of norms, based on a pool ofseveral thousand candidates whoattended SFAS in the early 1990s.A recent validation check of thatnormative data, involving morethan 4,000 candidates who attend-ed SFAS between 1995 and 1998,indicated no shift in the distribu-tion of scores.

The average SFAS candidatescores at about the 70th percentileon the larger civilian populationnorms. When SFAS Wonderlic dataare divided into officer vs. enlistedcategories, the officers score, onaverage, above the 80th percentilefor civilian norms; the enlistedremain, on average, at or above the70th percentile.

Like other test scores, lowerWonderlic scores generally predictlower success rates in SFAS. Can-didates who score at the 20th per-centile or above have about a 46-percent chance of being selected.Candidates who score below the

Fall 1999 15

ASVAB GT Score Range and SFAS Success

NOTE: Graph depicts SFAS success rates for soldiers at various GT-score levels.

GT SCORES

A. 109 or below

B. 114 or below

C. 115 or above

D. 120 or above

0%

10%

20%

30%

40%

50%

60%

70%

80%

D.C.B.A.

20th percentile are selected about32 percent of the time. Candidateswho score at the 8th percentile orbelow (around the 27th percentilefor civilians) have a 28.8 percentchance of selection. These datademonstrate three points:• Lower Wonderlic scorers per-

form significantly poorer inSFAS.

• The general population of sol-diers attending SFAS today areon a par with those who attend-ed a decade ago, in terms of cog-nitive aptitude.

• The average SFAS candidate isa cut above the average soldierand the average civilian jobapplicant.The graph above depicts the

relationship between a candidate’spercentile scores on the Wonderlic(based on norms for all SFAS can-didates) and his success in SFAS.Generally, candidates who scorebelow the 11th percentile are iden-tified as facing a high probability

that they will not complete train-ing, primarily because of anticipat-ed academic problems in Phase IIof the SFQC. It is worth noting thatdespite the fact that SFAS placesonly minimal cognitive demandson candidates, those with higherWonderlic scores typically are moresuccessful. The critical pointappears to be around the 20th per-centile: Soldiers with scores abovethat have a higher-than-averageselection rate.

TABE testingThe TABE test provides four

basic measures of academic skillsand achievement: the ability toidentify word meanings; basicreading skills and reading compre-hension; basic math skills; andwritten-communication abilities.TABE scores are reported as gradeequivalents, or GEs. The maximumGE is 12.9, which represents theninth month of the 12th year of

school — in other words, the per-formance level of the average grad-uating high-school senior. Even if acandidate’s performance level isactually higher than that, his GEwill be 12.9.

During 1995-1998, 46 percent ofSFAS candidates earned GE scoresof 12.9 on all four measures. Forty-two percent of the enlisted candi-dates scored 12.9s on all four mea-sures, and 61 percent scored 12.0 orhigher on all four measures. Thedata indicate that with any dropfrom an all-12.9-score, candidatesare less likely to succeed in SFAS. Interms of predicting future success intraining, the math score is the mostdefinitive of the four measures.

To attend SFQC, candidatesmust achieve a minimum score of10.6 in all TABE categories. Candi-dates may retake the TABE repeat-edly prior to attending SFQC.

As the TABE graph demon-strates, when any of the four sub-test scores falls below the 12th-

16 Special Warfare

Wonderlic Percentile Scores and SFAS Success

NOTE: Graph depicts SFAS success rates for soldiers in various percentile ranges.

PERCENTILE SCORES

A. 5% or below

B. 11% or below

C. 20% or below

D. 24% or above

E. 37% or above

F. 51% or above

G. 67% or above

H. 80% or above

I . 95% or above

0%

10%

20%

30%

40%

50%

60%

70%

80%

I.H.G.F.E.D.C.B.A.

grade level, there is a significantincrease in the SFAS-failure rate.Initially, one might assume thatthe failure rate increases becausecandidates are dropped by the finalboard because of their poor acade-mic grades. For the most part, thisis not the case, as a later graphicwill demonstrate.

Behavioral reliabilityIn addition to assessing a candi-

date’s intellectual potential, SFASuses several measures of personal-ity and behavioral tendency toreveal a candidate’s strengths andvulnerabilities, and to identify anyrisk of behavioral tendencies thatmight prevent the candidate’sbecoming a productive SF soldier.It is important to point out thatSFAS candidates very rarely pres-ent any tendencies that approxi-mate a formal psychiatric condi-tion. “Risk,” in this context, is

defined as the likelihood that acandidate will not complete train-ing because of academic deficien-cies or personality vulnerabilities.

On the basis of their psychologi-cal test data, SFAS candidates arecategorized as either low-, moder-ate- or high-risk. These categoriesdo not suggest the likelihood ofpsychiatric problems; they refer tothe likelihood that a candidatemay fail to complete SFAS orSFQC. A fourth group of candi-dates may be identified as high-risk because of deficits in their aca-demic or cognitive-aptitude scores.High-risk candidates who completeSFAS are subsequently inter-viewed to determine whether theyare indeed high-risk. The finalselection board collects and analy-ses the information acquired fromthe interviews as part of the candi-date-selection process.

To evaluate behavioral stabilityand emotional maturity, SFAS uses

several tests developed by theUnited States Army ResearchInstitute (the principal one beingARI Biodata80); the MinnesotaMultiphasic Personality Inventory,or MMPI; clinical-interview evalu-ations conducted by psychologistsduring SFAS; and observations bythe SFAS cadre. Research to dateindicates that the ARI Biodata80and the MMPI are the most useful.

ARI Biodata80The U.S. Army Research Insti-

tute developed ARI Biodata80 inresponse to requests for a test ofpersonal integrity. The test isdesigned to provide a variety ofinformation about the candidate,including his level of social maturi-ty in comparison to his peers, andthe likelihood of his performinginappropriately under stress. Thetest uses a unique approach: Testitems are keyed to actual behaviors

Fall 1999 17

TABE Score Range and SFAS Failure

NOTE: Graph depicts SFAS failure rates for soldiers in various subtest-score ranges.

SUBTEST SCORES

A. 12.9 on all

B. Below 12 on any one

C. Below 11 on any one

D. Below 10 on any one

E. Below 9 on any one

F. Below 8 on any one

G. Below 7 on any one

0%

10%

20%

30%

40%

50%

60%

70%

80%

G.F.E.D.C.B.A.

rather than to personality con-cepts, as in the MMPI. The ARIBiodata80 provides informationthat is strongly predictive of a can-didate’s inability to completeSFAS. Although such cases mayalso be identified by the MMPI,ARI Biodata80 is able to pinpointindividuals with significant vul-nerabilities who were not identi-fied by the MMPI.

One set of scores on the ARI Bio-data80 provides a measure calledthe SF delinquency scale. Scores onthis scale range from 0 (the best) to5 (the worst). Nearly 80 percent ofthe candidates score 0. During thepast two years, we have establishedthat candidates who score higherthan 1 are likely to drop out of SFASat a fairly high rate. During thenext year, we will assess the rela-tionship between the SF delinquen-cy scale and the candidate’s per-formance in the SFQC. We predictthat few, if any, candidates with anelevated score on the SF delinquen-

cy scale will complete training.Although the SF delinquency

scale is the most predictive of theARI Biodata80 scores, ARI Bioda-ta80 also provides other usefulscores. The U.S. Army ResearchInstitute is currently refining ameasure that is linked to a candi-date’s flexibility in thinking and inproblem-solving. That measure,which may hold substantialpromise for early identification ofsoldiers who have the intensivethinking abilities valued by SpecialForces, is scheduled to be field-test-ed next year.

MMPISince SFAS’s inception, we have

used the MMPI. It is the most com-mon psychological test in theworld, and it is used in a broadrange of military and civilianassessment-and-selection pro-grams. Norms vary considerablyfor different populations and differ-

ent settings. The norms estab-lished for SFAS differ in manyrespects from the norms used inmental-health settings or in othercivilian settings. Test results arehelpful in identifying candidateswho vary significantly from theSFAS norms. These results arethen integrated with other dataand serve as a starting point forthe interviewing of candidates.However, the majority of candi-dates are not interviewed.

In the graph depicting the rela-tionship between risk ratings andperformance in SFAS and SFQC,the first cluster depicts the repre-sentation of the different groups atthe start of SFAS, at which timethe testing is conducted. Note thatby the end of SFAS, low-risk candi-dates have survived the programat a slightly higher rate thanexpected. In contrast, soldiers inthe high-risk (nonacademic) groupcompose a smaller proportion ofgraduates than expected, given

18 Special Warfare

ARI Biodata80 Delinquency Score and SFAS Failure

NOTE: Graph depicts SFAS failure rates for soldiers with various scores on the SF delinquency scale.

SF DEL SCORES

A. Equals 0

B. Equals 1

C. Higher than 1

0%

10%

20%

30%

40%

50%

60%

70%

80%

C.B.A.

their representation at the start ofthe class. The greater attrition rateamong this group of candidates isdue to a higher voluntary with-drawal rate and the results of thereview by the final board.

At the start of SFAS, about 8 per-cent of the candidates are placed inthe high-risk category, based ontheir low Wonderlic scores (high-risk-for-academic-failure group).By the end of SFAS, these individ-uals compose 10 to 11 percent ofthe graduates. Generally, these aresoldiers who are physically toughbut possess only average intellect.

The third cluster in the graphdepicts the graduates of the SFQC:soldiers who will subsequently fillteam slots in the SF groups. TheSFQC is much more demandingthan SFAS in regard to academicskills and cognitive aptitude, par-ticularly in the academic portionsof Phase II. A training program asdemanding and as long as the

SFQC tends to produce stress suffi-cient enough to highlight any vul-nerabilities among its students.The graph demonstrates the lowlikelihood of course completion byindividuals who are consideredhigh-risk for failure because oftheir psychological vulnerabilities,cognitive aptitude or academicdeficits.

The few soldiers in the high-riskacademic group who graduatedfrom SFQC most likely were sol-diers with reasonable cognitiveaptitude who scored low on theWonderlic. Soldiers in the high-risknonacademic category who gradu-ated from SFQC most likely wereidentified as being high-risk forfailure on the testing, but who weresubsequently identified as low-riskafter they were interviewed at theend of SFAS.

The key point is that even with asomewhat unrefined strategy ofcategorization based solely on a

limited set of tests, the categoriza-tion demonstrates substantial pre-dictive power in terms of identify-ing those candidates who have apoor chance of success.

ConclusionThe SFAS incorporates method-

ologies that assess candidates’intellectual capabilities and relatesthose capabilities to success intraining. The program also assess-es psychological strengths and vul-nerabilities that are predictive ofsuccess in SFAS and in SFQC.These methodologies are continu-ally being evaluated and improved,with the twin goals of providingaccurate, reliable and critical infor-mation to the command, and ofenhancing the effectiveness of theoverall assessment-and-selectionprocess. Psychological testing isonly one of many tools that canhelp Special Forces acquire the

Fall 1999 19

Risk Ratings and Success in SFAS and SFQC

NOTE: Graph depicts SFAS and SFQC success rates for soldiers in various risk groups.

0%

10%

20%

30%

40%

50%

60%

70%

80%

Low risk

Moderate risk

High risk – psychological

High risk – intellectual

End SFQCEnd SFASStart SFAS

RISK GROUPS

kind of tough, smart and stress-resilient soldiers that it has had inthe past, that it needs now, andthat it will continue to need in thefuture.

Major Gary A. Hazlett isassigned to the Psychological Appli-cations Directorate within the U.S.Army Special Operations Com-mand, and he manages the psycho-logical-assessment portion of SFAS.His previous assignments includedivision psychologist for the 82ndAirborne Division; chief of the psy-chology service in the Departmentof Psychology and Neurology atFort Bragg’s Womack Army Med-ical Center; and SERE psychologistfor the 2nd Battalion, 1st SpecialWarfare Training Group, JFK Spe-cial Warfare Center and School.Major Hazlett holds a doctorate inclinical psychology from IndianaState University, and he completeda post-doctorate in clinical neu-ropsychology in the Department ofNeurology at the University ofAlabama-Birmingham.

Dr. Michael Sanders has served aschief of the Fort Bragg office of theU.S. Army Research Institute sinceJuly 1994. He and other ARI psy-chologists provide research supportto the SOF community on topics thataddress the life cycle of the soldier,including recruiting, assessmentand selection, training and reten-tion. He began service in the Army atFort Rucker, Ala., as an active-dutyaviation psychologist at the ArmyAeromedical Research Laboratory.At the Fort Rucker ARI Field Unit,he continued his research on aviatorselection, screening, training, per-formance assessment, and retention.Dr. Sanders has also served as chiefof the ARI field unit at Fort Gordon,Ga., where his unit performedresearch on training-technologyenhancements for Signal soldiers.

He holds a master’s and a doctoratein experimental psychology, with anemphasis on human factors.

20 Special Warfare

In April, the Special Warfare Center andSchool hosted the 1999 Special ForcesConference and Exposition in Fayet-

teville, N.C., bringing together more than500 members of the SF community to cele-brate the past, to discuss the present andto plan for the future.

The 1999 Special Forces Conference wasthe most ambitious undertaking of its kindin the history of USAJFKSWCS. From thebeginning, the SWCS command strived tomake the 1999 conference different fromprevious SF conferences. The commandintended for the conference’s symposiumsand workshops to yield recommendationsfor improvement in various areas. The con-ference was also designed to engage awider segment of Special Forces. To achievethat end, conference planners involvedSWCS; the National Defense IndustrialAssociation, or NDIA; the Association ofthe U.S. Army, or AUSA; the Army SpecialForces Command, or USASFC; and theSpecial Forces Association.

Working toward a common goal, thesefive organizations synchronized theirefforts to engage all ranks and all membersof the community, both active-duty andretired. Another innovation was the loca-tion of the conference at a large hotel/con-vention center in Fayetteville, which pro-vided an ideal facility for the conference’sdiverse activities.

In preparation for the conference, the con-ference staff mailed more than 6,000 invita-

tions to all active-Army SF personnel iden-tified through the Total Army PersonnelCommand databases. At the same time,SWCS advertised the event through morethan 10 media outlets, including officialperiodicals, the Fayetteville and Raleigh,N.C., newspapers, Soldiers Magazine, ArmyTimes and Army Magazine. The conferencestaff also briefed the USASFC chain of com-mand down to the group level, to encouragethe widest possible attendance.

A number of Army and SOF senior lead-ers, active-duty and retired, attended the1999 conference. Among the key speakerswere General Hugh Shelton, chairman ofthe Joint Chiefs of Staff, who spoke on“DoD Into the 21st Century”; GeneralPeter Schoomaker, commander in chief ofthe U.S. Special Operations Command,who discussed “SOF, Shaping, Preparingand Responding Now”; General JohnAbrams, commander of the Army Trainingand Doctrine Command, who discussedTRADOC’s link to the emerging regional-engagement concept; Thomas Umberg ofthe White House Office of National DrugControl, who spoke on “SOF Support toAmerica’s Counterdrug Policy”; and retiredLieutenant General Samuel Wilson, ahighly decorated World War II veteran ofMerrill’s Marauders and former director ofthe Defense Intelligence Agency, who dis-cussed the role of intelligence and “politicalliteracy” in special operations.

Also in attendance were Lieutenant

Fall 1999 21

The 1999 SF Conference: Setting a New Standard

by Lieutenant Colonel Dan Adelstein

General William Tangney, commander ofthe Army Special Operations Command,who presented “ARSOF Into the Future”;and Major General William G. Boykin,commander of USASFC, who presented“The Direction and Focus of SF Command.”The guest list also included 20 other gen-eral officers and civilians with strong tiesto the SF community or NDIA.

Conference activities began on April 19with the first Special Forces Open Classicgolf tournament, sponsored in part by theAUSA, and an NDIA-hosted social thatevening for the conference participants. Dur-ing the next three days (April 20-22), the con-ference conducted a number of concurrentactivities: three symposiums, 10 workshops

and the NDIAexposition.

The sympo-siums were con-ducted on sepa-rate days. Eachsupported thec o n f e r e n c etheme, “Region-al Engagementand the Fu-ture.”The firstsymposium,“SF Core Ide-o l o g y , ”sought toi d e n t i f ythe corev a l u e sand thecore pur-pose of

Special Forces. Thesecond symposium, “The Regional

Engagement Force,” sought to advanceSWCS’s development of the regional-engagement concept. The third sympo-sium, “The SF Training Pipeline,” exam-ined the future of Special Forces Assess-ment and Selection, or SFAS, and of theSpecial Forces Qualification Course, orSFQC, based upon possible requirementsof the regional-engagement force. All con-ference attendees were invited to partici-pate in the first symposium. The secondand third symposiums were intended

mainly for senior conference participants(lieutenant colonel and above, CW4 andsergeant major/command sergeant major),but all conference participants couldattend.

The concept for all three symposiumswas the same. The moderator convened apanel of active-duty and retired membersof the SF community. To provide a catalystfor the discussion, the moderator eitherpresented a briefing or introduced guestspeakers. The moderator then fielded theaudience’s questions and comments, direct-ing them to the appropriate panel mem-bers. Each symposium was videotaped sothat a post-conference distillation of thediscussions could be presented to theSWCS senior leadership.

The collected input from each symposiumwill also further the progress in three vitalareas: SWCS will provide the synopsis ofthe core-ideology symposium to the ArmySF Command to facilitate its initiative todefine the SF core ideology. SWCS’s Con-cepts Development Directorate will use rec-ommendations from the REF symposium tofurther develop the concept of regionalengagement. SWCS will also provide thesynopsis of the SF training-pipeline sympo-sium to the U.S. Army Research Institute, orARI, as feedback for ARI’s SF Pipeline Proj-ect. That project, largely the work of ARI’sDr. Michelle Zazanis, will identify the attri-butes and the training required for optimalperformance by members of SF A-detach-ments. The SF Pipeline Project also plans toprovide recommendations that will make itpossible for SFAS to improve the process bywhich it identifies highly qualified soldiersand for SFQC to provide those soldiers withthe best possible training.

The 10 conference workshops were con-ducted at the same time as the second andthird symposiums. Workshop topics were:• Development of an SF team-sergeant

course.• Standards for SFAS.• Criteria for SFQC.• ARSOF simulations.• Management of unit supplies and

ammunition.• Defining materiel requirements at the

lowest level.

22 Special Warfare

• Alternative methods for training SFadvanced skills.

• Defining and enhancing force protection.• Development of future courseware for

distance learning.• Medical implications of SF training.

The workshops were designed to gaininput from members of the SF communitywho had played a minimal role in earlierconferences — personnel in the grades ofstaff sergeant through master sergeant,WO1 through CW3, and captains andmajors. Subject-matter experts conductedthe workshops, evaluated the input andprovided recommendations to the SWCSsenior leadership.

The NDIA exposition was a first for theSF conference. The event, which requiredno soldier support from SWCS, provided“one stop shopping” for SF. The displays of43 vendors covered a variety of topics,including electronics, weapons, synthetics,robotics, human engineering, mobility,training and leadership. Conference atten-dees also had the option of participating ina vendor-sponsored live-fire of some of theweapons, held at the Fayetteville PoliceDepartment’s firing range. In a separateevent held adjacent to the exposition, theArmy Quartermaster School exhibited afield kitchen containing samples of theArmy’s latest field rations.

On April 20, SWCS sponsored a memori-al ceremony to remember SF personnelkilled in action. Conducted at the USASOCVietnam War Memorial statue, the ceremo-ny included a wreath-laying by Major Gen-eral Kenneth R. Bowra and retired Com-mand Sergeant Major Franklin D. Miller,an SF Medal of Honor recipient. The cere-mony featured remarks by Major GeneralBowra; Robert L. Jones, deputy assistantsecretary of defense for POW and MIAaffairs; and Harold Jacobson, president ofthe SF Association.

Each day of the conference ended with asocial event: On the first evening, the SFAssociation hosted a barbecue. On the sec-ond evening, conference participants gath-ered at a local restaurant for a no-host din-ner. On the third evening, the conferenceconcluded with the SF Ball.

This year’s SF Ball was the most heavi-

ly attended social event in recent SWCShistory. Among the distinguished guestswere the keynote speaker, retired ColonelRoger Donlon, who was the first soldier toreceive the Medal of Honor during theVietnam War; and the guest of honor, RossPerot. A highlight of the evening was afilm clip showing Donlon in Vietnam. Thefootage, furnished by the NationalArchives, had never before been shownpublicly. Another guest, Wayne Newton,received an award in recognition of hisservice as an entertainer of U.S. militarypersonnel in Vietnam.

The 1999 SF Conference was a hallmarkevent that will set a standard for confer-ences in years to come, and SWCS plans toinclude activities similar to this year’s infuture SF conferences. Had it merely cap-tured the interest of all ranks andimproved the cohesion of the SF communi-ty, the conference would have been a suc-cess. But it went beyond that to provideinput that will help guide actions critical tothe SF community — actions that will con-tinue through next year’s conference andbeyond.

Lieutenant Colonel DanAdelstein is director of theSpecial Operations Propo-nency Office at the JFK Spe-cial Warfare Center andSchool. In 1999 he served asthe officer in charge of theSpecial Forces Conference. Commissionedas an infantry officer, Adelstein served as arifle-platoon leader with Company C, 4/9thInfantry in Alaska, and as commander ofCompany C, 2/4th Infantry in Germany.His SF assignments include detachmentcommander, ODA 573, and commander,Company A, 1/5th SF Group. Adelsteinholds a bachelor’s degree from the U.S. Mil-itary Academy and a master’s degree in his-tory from Ball State University.

Fall 1999 23

Psychological operations, or PSYOP,has a difficult goal: to change thebehavior of target audiences. Other

fields — politics, advertising, marketing andhealth communications, for example —share that goal, and practitioners in theserelated fields, like those in PSYOP, knowthat their efforts to stir audiences to actionmay often be fruitless.

Nevertheless, over the last 20-30 years,these related behavior-change fields havedeveloped methods that have proven to beeffective in winning votes, selling products,gaining customers and improving healthpractices. Their successes are not theresult of secret tactics or sneaky tech-niques, but rather of a disciplined method-ology that makes good use of its three com-ponents — theory, research and practice —in designing programs to affect targetaudiences.

Because PSYOP shares a common goalwith these related fields, we may be able toadopt their methodology, and PSYOP prac-titioners can improve their effectiveness bylearning from other fields’ approaches totheory, research and practice.

Apply behavior theoryWhile theory is sometimes overlooked by

those who are involved in the practical con-cerns of accomplishing a mission, a funda-mental lesson that we can draw from theexperience of behavior-change fields is that

it is important to base “interventions,” theactions designed to influence an audience,on the best theories of human behavior andbehavioral change. Theories, far from beinguseless academic constructs, can assistpractitioners during all phases of a pro-gram: from planning through implementa-tion to evaluation.

Behavior theories can explain why tar-get audiences behave as they do, and theycan pinpoint specific information thatpractitioners will need in designing effec-tive interventions. Behavior-change theo-ries can provide guidelines on how to shapeprogram strategies, and they can form thebasis for evaluation by making explicit theassumptions about how interventionsshould work.

Practitioners in behavior-change fields arepragmatic and results-oriented. They never-theless seem to have a firm understanding ofthe theoretical underpinnings of theiractions. They have a theory-based apprecia-tion of their audience’s behavior, and theycan explain exactly how their intervention issupposed to change that behavior.

An understanding of theories can con-vert a practitioner from a technician into a“professional who … comprehends the‘why’ and can design and craft well-tai-lored interventions … [who] does not blind-ly follow a cookbook recipe but constantlycreates the recipe anew, depending on the …nature of the target audience, setting,resources, goals, and constraints.”1 In short,

24 Special Warfare

Theory, Research, Practice: Three Ways to Increase PSYOP Effectiveness

by Dr. Mark F. Dyer

theories give practitioners indispensableadvantages in establishing the coherence,effectiveness and evaluation of behavior-change interventions.

Officers who are responsible for design-ing, implementing and evaluating PSYOPprograms can gain those advantages bylearning and applying the various behav-ioral theories used in related fields. Cer-tainly not everyone involved in a PSYOPprogram needs to understand behavioraltheory. Subordinate officers and enlistedsoldiers can (and in many instances proba-bly should) use standard procedures thatfacilitate quick and effective work in thefield. The officer in charge of the program,however, must be fully aware of theory inorder to direct the appropriate research, todesign effective interventions, and to carryout monitoring and evaluation.

Civilian researchers who are involved inthe program must also understand theoryin order to design research that willanswer the questions that the officer incharge is asking. Finally, officers in eche-lons above the officer in charge mustunderstand behavioral theories in order tohelp select appropriate theoreticalapproaches, to give guidance on how to

apply the theories in action, to evaluate theeffectiveness of the program, and to judgethe performance of the practitioners.

At times, PSYOP officers will have torely on their intuition and judgment indeciding what actions to take to effect abehavior change in a target audience. Evenat those times, however, the officers’ “gut

reactions” will be most on target if theyresult from an internalized understandingof behavioral theory. In most situations,practitioners should be able to articulatetheir understanding of the situation theyface as well as their perception of the waytheir proposed program will change audi-ence behavior. In articulating the concept,the officers will form a clear idea of the

Fall 1999 25

Enlisted PSYOP specialistslearn printing techniques.While standard proceduresfacilitate quick work in thefield, an understanding oftheory would allow practi-tioners to design moreeffective PSYOP strategies.

Photo by Keith Butler

At times, PSYOP officers will have to rely ontheir intuition and judgment in deciding whatactions to take. … Even at those times, how-ever, the officers’ ‘gut reactions’ will be moston target if they result from an internalizedunderstanding of behavioral theory.

task, formulate specific questions that canbe answered by research, develop a plan ofaction to achieve the behavioral goal, andestablish guidelines both for monitoringthe progress of the program and for evalu-ating it when it is over.

Like their fellow behavior-change practi-tioners in other fields,PSYOP planners shouldallow others in their field to review their theo-ries and planned operations. This “peerreview” can help ensure that the theoreticalapproach to the operation is consistent, effi-cient and plausible, and that it is the mostappropriate approach for the given situation.

Officers and civilians engaged in design-ing and implementing PSYOP programscan learn about theories of human behaviorfrom the various behavior-change fields.While each field takes a somewhat differentapproach, all are practical, and they sharemany of the same basic theories. PSYOPpractitioners therefore have the twin luxu-ries of being able to approach behavioraltheory through whatever field best suitstheir preferences, and of being able to workeffectively with others who approach behav-ioral theory from a different viewpoint.

Some of the basic theories of humanbehavior can be found in textbooks on per-suasive communications, such as the onewritten by E.P. Bettinghaus and M.J.Cody,2 or the one by J.B. Stiff.3 Among thetheories emphasized in persuasive commu-nications are the source-message-channel-receiver model of communication, classical-

conditioning theory, social-learning theory,balance theory, cognitive-dissonance theo-ry, psychological-reactance theory, mes-sage-learning theory, and the elaboration-likelihood model.

Elaboration likelihood, as well as rea-soned action, is also emphasized in text-books dealing with advertising4 and inthose dealing with consumer behavior usedby marketers.5 The field of social marketingrelies heavily on the transtheoretical modelor stages of change theory.6 The field ofhealth promotion uses a variety of theoreti-cal approaches: A recent review of theoriesused in health-education programs over athree-year period identified 21 differentconceptual frameworks, although thehealth-belief model dominated the field.7

As PSYOP gains experience in applyingbehavior-change theories to its campaigns,it can teach those theories in its trainingprograms, develop a repertoire of theoriesfound to be most effective, and contributeto advancements in behavioral theoriesthat will be of value to practitioners inrelated fields. For now, however, PSYOPshould concentrate on assimilating exist-ing theories and integrating them intoongoing PSYOP programs.

Base decisions on researchBehavioral theory provides a blueprint

for planning and evaluating behavior-change interventions, but theory is not agoal in itself. Marketers, politicians and

26 Special Warfare

Many PSYOP operationsnot only address audi-ences that can beresearched, but alsooffer audiences some-thing of value.

Photo by Keith Butler

health-care workers do not seek simply tounderstand the behavior of consumers, vot-ers and patients; rather, they strive todevelop effective strategies for changing it.

While theory is invaluable in planningthose strategies, practitioners do not blind-ly apply textbook theories. Behavior-change practitioners are fanatical aboutresearch — a practical kind of researchthat is designed to help them make deci-sions on operational considerations such astarget segmentation, behavior-changestrategies, resource allocation, and thechoice of strategy elements.

Behavior-change practitioners useresearch to determine how well their theo-ry explains the behavior of the target audi-ence, to find facts that suggest appropriateapproaches and effective interventions,and to test how well their theoreticallyderived actions actually change the behav-ior of the target audience.

Primary research of the target audienceis an indispensable tool in bridging the gapbetween theory and practice. In effect,research helps practitioners determinewhether what they think they are doing iswhat they are doing, and whether there isa connection between the actions of theirprograms and the behavior of the targetaudience. When research reveals that theconnections are weak, the practitionersrethink their approach and revise theirprogram until it works.

PSYOP can best ensure that its actionschange behavior in the desired way by con-ducting practical primary research on thetarget audience. The other behavior-change fields have found that research ismost useful and most efficient when it isperformed as an aid in making operationaldecisions. Presented with a problem tosolve or an opportunity to exploit, practi-tioners perform exploratory research to dis-cover information of general interest aboutthe target audience — its knowledge, atti-tudes and behaviors.

Once these practitioners have selected amodel for action, they turn to formativeresearch to answer basic operational ques-tions: Which target audiences can weaddress with the most effect? How shouldwe segment those audiences? What specif-

ic behavior-change interventions should weundertake? How can we most efficientlyallocate our resources to the various seg-ments and interventions? Formativeresearch consists primarily of listening totarget-audience members through the useof surveys, personal interviews and focus-group interviews. The aim of formativeresearch is to provide specific informationthat the theoretical model suggests wouldbe useful in planning interventions.

After behavior-change practitioners havedecided on intervention strategies andaudience segments, their next step is topretest their strategies. Pretesting allows

the practitioners to evaluate the effective-ness of the strategies before they devoteany resources to them. In the final step, thepractitioners monitor data that tell themhow the strategies are doing and how tomake changes in the audiences, strategies,or any other elements of the intervention.Monitoring, like formative research, is aprocess of listening closely to members ofthe target audience. Monitoring is mostuseful when it measures the audience’sbehavior against the program goals thatwere suggested by the theoretical model.

Research of the target audience, with itsconcern for answering the question “Whatshould we do?” at each step of a campaign,provides an ideal paradigm for PSYOPpractitioners who seek to design effectiveinterventions. PSYOP practitioners whowish to learn about research methodologieswill find an extensive amount of literatureavailable. The field of commercial market-ing has taken the idea of practical researchto its extreme, and the vast amount of mar-

Fall 1999 27

Primary research of the target audience is anindispensable tool in bridging the gap betweentheory and practice. In effect, research helps prac-titioners determine whether what they think theyare doing is what they are doing, and whetherthere is a connection between the actions of theirprograms and the behavior of the target audience.

ket-research literature is perhaps bestapproached through a standard textbooksuch as the one written by T.C. Kinnear andJ.R. Taylor.8 The methodology of interview-ing focus groups, which originated in thecommercial sector but is now being widelypracticed in politics, social marketing,health communications and other fields,has a particularly large body of supportingliterature, such as the recent guide byRichard Krueger.9 Books on research meth-ods are also available,10 as are discussionsof research as it is applied in social market-ing.11 The field of advertising offers litera-ture that is especially useful for pretest-ing,12 and the fields of economic develop-ment,13 mass communication14 and healthcommunications15 have also contributed tothe literature on various aspects ofresearch methodologies.

Adopt a marketing approachFor the various practitioners who seek to

change people’s behavior, practice is thebottom line — the ultimate goal of theircraft. Whatever their motivation, practi-tioners strive to do something that willcause the audience to change its behavior.

Most behavior-change practitioners havelearned that a marketing approach is themost effective means of designing a pro-gram that achieves results.

For many years, behavior-change profes-sionals, such as advertisers and managersof political campaigns, concentrated oncommunications as a means of convincingor persuading their audiences to behave indesired ways. Nearly all of them nowagree, however, that they need to go beyondcommunications to marketing.

The marketing approach proposes “thatsuccess will come to that organization thatbest determines the perceptions, needs,and wants of target markets and satisfiesthem through the design, communication,pricing, and delivery of appropriate andcompetitively viable offerings.”16 Althoughthe marketing approach originated in thefield of commercial marketing, it is applic-able in all behavior-change fields, includ-ing PSYOP.

The marketing approach also proposesthat target audiences will perform adesired behavior only if they are offeredsomething in exchange — something thatthey want or need, something that they canafford (economically and otherwise), or

28 Special Warfare

By adopting a marketingapproach, PSYOP practi-tioners could view sur-render as an exchangethat can be made easier,more appealing and lesscostly for enemy soldiers.

Photo by Joel M. Torres

something that they can access easily.There are two parts to successful mar-

keting. The first part is thorough researchto determine the perceptions, needs andwants of target markets. The second part isthe “marketing mix,” often referred to asthe four “Ps”: product, price, promotion andplace. This mnemonic device reminds mar-keters that they must offer their audiencesomething that it values (product); ensurethat the costs of the desired behavior(price) are not greater than the value of theproduct; effectively communicate to theaudience the benefits of the offering (pro-motion); and ensure that the offering isavailable to the audience at the appropri-ate time and place (place). Behavior-change practitioners have found that ifthey consider all four Ps, they will be moresuccessful in obtaining the behaviorchanges they seek.

At first glance, marketing may notappear to be an appropriate model forPSYOP. After all, PSYOP seeks to compelenemy soldiers to surrender — an actionthat is clearly not in their best interest. Itis also impossible to conduct focus-groupinterviews with enemy soldiers. But manyPSYOP operations — such as managingfriendly populations and enemy civilians inwartime, and conducting mine-awarenessand drug-prevention campaigns in peace-time — not only address audiences thatcan be researched but also offer those audi-ences something of value.

Even in a situation such as surrender, inwhich the terms “research” and “exchange”seem meaningless, the marketingapproach can be applied. While traditionalresearch may be difficult on the battlefield,prisoners of war, defectors, ex-soldiers,informants and others can provide infor-mation to researchers who ask the rightquestions. Surrender itself can be seen asan exchange, suggesting that PSYOP canprofitably go beyond simply trying to “per-suade” enemy soldiers to surrender, work-ing instead to make surrender easier, moreappealing and less costly.

The greatest strength of the marketingapproach is that it broadens the scope ofactions that are available to the practition-er. Instead of trying to persuade audiences

to do something that they do not want todo, we can manipulate the other elementsof the marketing mix, thereby making ouroperations more flexible and possibly moreeffective.

PSYOP practitioners can learn the mar-keting approach by reading the literaturepertaining to the various behavior-changefields. Books and college courses on com-mercial marketing are widely available.One important book that outlines the appli-cation of market methodologies to social-behavior interventions is Alan Andreasen’sMarketing Social Change.17 Other worksdeal with social marketing18 and marketingin health communications.19

Adopting a marketing approach is, asKotler and Andreasen point out,20 mostly aquestion of developing the proper mindset.If PSYOP practitioners are to implement amarketing approach, they must adopt a“customer-centered” orientation, or inPSYOP terms, they must begin and end allanalysis and planning with considerationof the target audience, whose behavior isthe ultimate goal of their interventions. Acustomer-centered orientation wouldrequire PSYOP to use all elements of themarketing mix, to broadly define competi-tion, to develop a heavy reliance onresearch and to perform target-audiencesegmentation.

Kotler and Andreasen also mention sev-eral considerations that an organizationshould take into account when attemptingto introduce a marketing approach into itsoperations.21 Among these are recognizingthe limited understanding of marketing

Fall 1999 29

Even in a situation such as surrender, inwhich the terms ‘research’ and ‘exchange’seem meaningless, the marketing approachcan be applied. While traditional researchmay be difficult on the battlefield, prisonersof war, defectors, ex-soldiers, informantsand others can provide information toresearchers who ask the right questions.

among the members of the organization; ana-lyzing the projected nonmarket pressures onthe organization; and carefully selectingearly marketing projects. Most importantly,however, Kotler and Andreasen emphasizethat the acceptance of the marketingapproach into an organization is largely apolitical activity, and that it can occur onlywith the support of the organization’s topleadership. The introduction of a market-ing approach into PSYOP would thusrequire three changes: PSYOP plannerswould have to learn about marketing andits methodology of behavior change;PSYOP personnel would have to adopt amore customer-centered mindset; and thePSYOP leadership would have to give themarketing approach its full support.

Dr. Mark F. Dyer has beenan analyst for the StrategicStudies Detachment, 8thPSYOP Battalion, 4th PSYOPGroup, since 1982. He receivedhis bachelor’s degree fromDePauw University in 1972and a Ph.D. in history from Boston Universi-ty in 1986.

Notes:1 K. Glanz, F.M. Lewis and B.K. Rimer (eds.), Health

Behavior and Health Education: Theory, Research andPractice (2nd ed.) (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass Pub-lishers, 1997), p. 21.

2 E.P. Bettinghaus and M.J. Cody, Persuasive Com-munication (New York: Harcourt Brace College Pub-lishers, 1994).

3 J.B. Stiff, Persuasive Communication (New York:Guilford Press, 1994).

4 W.F. Arens and C.L. Bovee, Contemporary Advertis-ing (Boston: Irwin, 1994).

5 H. Assael, Consumer Behavior and MarketingAction (Cincinnati: South-Western College Publish-ing, 1995).

6 Allen R. Andreasen, Marketing Social Change:Changing Behavior to Promote Health, Social Devel-opment and the Environment (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass Publishers, 1995).

7 Glanz, Lewis and Rimer, p. 29.8 T.C. Kinnear and J.R. Taylor, Marketing Research:

An Applied Approach (New York: McGraw-Hill, Inc.,1996).

9 Richard A. Krueger, Focus Groups: A PracticalGuide for Applied Research (Thousand Oaks, Calif.:Sage Publications, 1994).10 B.L. Berg, Qualitative Research Methods for the

Social Sciences (Boston: Allyn and Bacon, 1998).11 Andreasen, Marketing Social Change.12 J. Haskings and A. Kendrick, Successful Advertis-ing Research Methods (Lincolnwood, Ill.: NTC Busi-ness Books, 1993); and A.D. Fletcher and T.A. Bowers,Fundamentals of Advertising Research (Belmont,Calif.: Wadsworth Publishing Company, 1991).13 K. Finsterbusch, J. Ingersoll and L.G. Llewellyn(eds.), Methods for Social Analysis in DevelopingCountries (Boulder, Colo.: Westview Press, 1990). (Vol.17 of the social-impact-assessment series.) 14 H.J. Hsia, Mass Communication Research Meth-ods: A Step-by-Step Approach (Hillsdale, N.J.:Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, 1988).15 S.C. Scrimshaw and E. Hurtado, Rapid AssessmentProcedures for Nutrition and Primary Health Care:Anthropological Approaches to Improving ProgrammeEffectiveness (Los Angeles: UCLA Latin AmericanCenter Publications, 1987).16 Andreasen, Marketing Social Change.17 Ibid.18 M.E. Goldberg, M. Fishbein and S.E. Middlestadt(eds.), Social Marketing: Theoretical and PracticalPerspectives (Mahwah, N.J.: Lawrence Erlbaum Asso-ciates, 1997).19 R.C. Lefebvre and L. Rochlin, “Social Marketing,”in Glanz, Lewis and Rimer, Health Behavior andHealth Education, pp. 384-402.20 P. Kotler and A.R. Andreasen, Strategic Marketingfor Nonprofit Organizations (Upper Saddle River,N.J.: Prentice Hall, 1996), pp. 35-61.21 Ibid., p. 57.

30 Special Warfare

Fall 1999 31

Army Values

LoyaltyBull Simons

Colonel Arthur D. “Bull” Simons was one of themost charismatic leaders in special-operationshistory. A gruff man with a wide command of pro-fanity, he inspired loyalty in his men. One subor-dinate of his during the 1960 White Star trainingoperation in Laos said of him, “I would follow BullSimons to hell and back for the sheer joy of beingwith him on the visit.”

Simons responded to that loyalty by carefullyplanning all his operations so as not to risk anyman’s life unnecessarily. He still planned missionsthat were risky — war is inherently risky — but hetook as many factors into account as possible. Hecame to believe that “the more improbable some-thing is, the surer you can pull it off.”

Simons was commander of the Army compo-nent of the Son Tay raid, the 1970 operationdesigned to rescue American prisoners of warfrom a camp deep inside North Vietnam. Simonspersonally selected the raiders and oversaw theirtraining. As he and his soldiers prepared to leaveThailand on Nov. 20, 1970, to conduct the raid,Simons swore that he would leave no man behind.Rather than surrender even one of his men to cap-tivity by the North Vietnamese, he said, he wouldstand and fight back-to-back with his men. Suchloyalty, given and received, marked Bull Simonsas a leader of men and makes him an inspirationto current and future generations of special-oper-ations soldiers. — Dr. Richard Stewart

Arthur D. “Bull” Simons

Civilian supremacy has takenon new meaning in the mili-tary. Civilians have become

mission objectives in those contem-porary military operations former-ly known as low-intensity conflict,or LIC, and now euphemisticallyreferred to as operations otherthan war, or OOTW. Whether inSomalia, Iraq, Haiti or the Bal-kans, military leaders who areaccustomed to pursuing militaryobjectives are befuddled by theemergence of civilians as missionpriorities. General Hugh Shelton,who commanded operation UpholdDemocracy in Haiti prior to becom-ing chairman of the Joint Chiefs ofStaff, put it this way: “One wordthat represents the most vexinglegal, political and operationalchallenge of OOTW is ‘civilians.’ ”

The vexing role of civilians inOOTW is understandable in lightof the contrasting role of civiliansin war. In wartime, the defeat ofenemy combatants by overwhelm-ing force is the mission priority;civilians are usually considered lit-tle more than obstacles to thatobjective. But in OOTW, missionpriorities are reversed. MostOOTW are civil-military in nature;even at the tactical and operationallevels, civilian (or public) support is

a primary mission objective. Tocomplicate matters, this support isessentially a political objectiverather than a military objective,and military leaders have tradi-tionally been taught to avoid polit-ical matters.1

This reversal of mission priori-ties may be less confusing if com-manders understand the concept ofmilitary legitimacy. Military legiti-macy deals with the delicate bal-ance between might and right, abalance that shifts dramatically asconditions move from war to peace.The six doctrinal principles ofOOTW listed in chapter 13 of FM100-5, Operations — legitimacy,objective, unity of effort, restraint,

perseverance, and security — withthe addition of civil-military rela-tions, might just as well be referredto as the characteristics of militarylegitimacy. These principles pro-vide a doctrinal context for under-standing how civilians relate tomission success in OOTW.2

Although the principles ofOOTW may be new in military doc-trine, they should be familiar toveteran special operators. Theprinciples of OOTW are little morethan warmed-over LIC impera-tives. They may also appear to besimilar to the venerable principlesof war (objective, security andunity of command). However, intheir application, the principles of

32 Special Warfare

Military Legitimacy in OOTW: Civilians as Mission Priorities

by Colonel Rudolph C. Barnes Jr.

LIC Imperatives Principles of OOTW

1. Legitimacy 1. Legitimacy2. Primacy of the 2. Objective

political instrument 3. Unity of effort3. Unity of effort 4. Restraint4. Restricted use of force 5. Perseverance5. Perseverance 6. Security6. Adaptability

OOTW have more differences thansimilarities with the principles ofwar. The unconventional nature ofOOTW may explain why many con-sider OOTW an inappropriate useof the military.3

LegitimacyLegitimacy is the first principle

of OOTW, subsuming all others. Itprovides the moral authority for agovernment and its military forcesto act. Military doctrine acknowl-edges legitimacy to be the centralconcern of all parties directlyinvolved in a conflict.4

In wartime, mission successdepends upon the successful applica-tion of overwhelming military force.But in peacetime, political considera-tions severely constrain the use ofmilitary force. These two scenariosreflect the contrasting requirementsof legitimacy in war and in peace —requirements that are derived fromvalues, constitutions, traditions, reli-gion, culture, the law, and public per-ceptions.5 Because of the interrelat-ed nature of these sources, they willbe abbreviated in this article to law,values, culture and public support.These sources provide the standardsand the context for critical decisionsthat ultimately determine the legiti-macy of military force — from thestrategic decision of the president todeploy U.S. forces to the tactical deci-sion of a soldier to pull the trigger.

LawThe law is at the foundation of

legitimacy, providing the standardsthat give legitimacy its meaning.But without enforcement, thesestandards have little meaning. Theprotection of fundamental humanrights is the primary purpose ofthe law and is a mission priority inOOTW. But the concept of humanrights under international law hasbeen weakened by the failure tobring known war criminals in the

Balkans to justice before theUnited Nations war crimes tri-bunal. If Slobodan Milosevic andhis henchmen could be brought totrial, the process would do more todiscourage the ethnic violence thathas ravaged the Balkans than didthe NATO bombing campaign.

The human rights that are applic-able to military operations andactivities are found in internationallaw, in domestic U.S. law, and inhost-nation law, all of which are col-lectively referred to as operationallaw, or OPLAW. The law of war,actually part of international law, isa major component of OPLAW thathas proven to be an adequate stand-ard of military legitimacy inwartime, but not in peacetimeOOTW. That is because the law ofwar applies only when there isarmed conflict between nations andwhen there is a clear distinctionbetween combatants and noncom-batants. Neither of these situationsis the norm in OOTW.

The distinction between combat-ants and noncombatants (the term“noncombatants” includes civiliansand prisoners of war) is critical in

wartime. Combatants are legiti-mate targets; noncombatants arenot. If no distinction can be madebetween combatants and noncom-batants, the use of lethal forcemust be severely constrained.

The emerging area of civilian-protection law, or CPL, is the mostimportant component of OPLAW inOOTW. CPL focuses on protectingthe human rights of civilians. It isbased on the fundamental humanrights recognized under interna-tional law, but it also includes host-nation law applicable in specificoperational areas, internationallaw applicable to specific opera-tional activities, and domestic U.S.law. And while the law of war maynot apply in OOTW for the reasonsstated above, its principles areoften applied by analogy throughU.S. policy, mission imperativesand common sense. The provisionsof the Fourth Geneva Conventionon the Protection of Civilians inWar, for example, are usuallyapplied in OOTW by analogy.6

In the final analysis, the legalstandards of military legitimacy inOOTW are derived from a complex

Fall 1999 33

A U.S. soldier gives water to Haitian prisoners during Operation Uphold Democracy. If civilian supportis important in OOTW, then soldiers should apply the golden rule to civilians in the operational area.

Photo by Joel Herard

and sometimes shifting panoply oflaws and policies that protecthuman rights in specific opera-tional settings. In comparison, thelaw of war provides relativelyhard-and-fast rules for war-fight-ing. The importance of humanrights to military legitimacyrequires that commanders placeunusual reliance upon theirlawyers, as noted by LieutenantGeneral Peter Schoomaker, whenhe was commanding general of theU.S. Army Special OperationsCommand:

The one legal thing [aboutOOTW] that sticks out in my mindis human rights. Soldiers need onlya basic understanding of humanrights rules. But my lawyers hadbetter know this stuff inside and out.

While the law is the foundationof legitimacy, the law seldom dic-tates command decisions. Legalstandards will never eliminate themoral dimension of decision-makingupon which legitimacy ultimatelydepends. Other requirements of legit-imacy — values and cultural con-siderations — are equally impor-tant to decision-making in theambiguous and unforgiving situa-tions that are the norm in OOTW.

ValuesValues are the context of legiti-

macy; they are the virtues or thevices that make people who they areand institutions what they are. Val-ues are the product of traditions,religion and culture, and they pro-vide a frame of reference for thedecisions that affect issues of legiti-macy. As they relate to legitimacy,values might be considered in twocategories: national and personal.

National values in the U.S. canbe summarized as democracy,human rights and the rule of law.These values are the product of aJudeo-Christian religious traditionand have been enshrined by the

U.S. Constitution. They have longbeen a common thread in the fabricof the U.S. national security strate-gy.7 But history has taught us thatthese values are not always priori-ties in military operations. In com-bat operations, these values havelittle application at the operationaland tactical levels, where militaryobjectives predominate. But inOOTW, where threats are ambigu-ous and political objectives pre-dominate, the promotion of nation-al values can be a litmus test forthe legitimacy of U.S. militarymight.

National values are not absolute;they must be considered broad andflexible concepts with universalapplication. They are not limited toethnocentric cultural standardsdrawn exclusively from U.S. experi-ence. U.S. national values areuniquely interrelated. Democracy,human rights and the rule of laware inextricably bound together: Allthree are indispensable in fulfillingthe requirements of legitimacy.Democracy (majority rule) can betyrannical if it is not coupled with

the protection of minority humanrights through the rule of law. Buttoo much emphasis on the rights ofindividuals or groups can defeat thelegitimate (and essential) collectiveinterests of the state. Even the ruleof law can be tyrannical if it ceasesto serve the purposes of justice.

Personal values, or charactertraits, have traditionally beenassociated with military leader-ship. Duty, integrity, loyalty, self-less service, personal courage,respect and honor are the Armyvalues; the Army recognizes thesevalues as a frame of reference forethical decision-making.8 Likenational values, personal valuesreflect our religious heritage,which has at its heart the goldenrule. General Dennis J. Reimer, for-mer chief of staff of the Army, put itthis way:

The terms we use to inspire ourvalues — duty, integrity, loyalty,selfless service, courage, respect andhonor — inspire the sense of pur-pose necessary to sustain our sol-diers in combat and help resolvethe ambiguities of military opera-

34 Special Warfare

A U.S. soldier gives a bag of grain to Somali women. OOTW requires cultural orientation, lan-guage capability, and diplomacy in sensitive environments. These requirements have long beenthe standards for special-operations soldiers.

Photo by Perry Heimer

tions short of war. Leaders of char-acter and competence live these val-ues. We must build and maintainan Army where people do what isright; where we treat each other aswe would want to be treated; and,where everyone can truly be all theycan be.9

If civilian support is important tomission objectives in OOTW, thenwe need to apply the golden rulebeyond our own forces, to includecivilians in the operational area.

Personal values influence deci-sion-making when specific stand-ards are inadequate, as is often thecase during peacetime operations.But because values are abstract,they can produce conflictingframes of reference. Duty and loy-alty, for instance, can mean quitedifferent things to different people.In the Iran-Contra hearings, thetestimony of Lieutenant ColonelOliver North indicated that evensenior military officers can placedevotion to duty (no matter howunlawful a mission) ahead of loyal-ty to the Constitution and its ruleof law.10

If military personnel differ onthe concepts of duty and loyalty, wecan expect even more conflictbetween the military perspectiveand the civilian perspectiveregarding these values. The U.S.military is an authoritarian regimewithin a libertarian society. Indi-vidual rights and liberty are val-ued by civilians above order anddiscipline, while the opposite istrue for military personnel. Whilesuch conflicts are of little concernin wartime, they can underminecivil-military relations and legiti-macy in peacetime OOTW.

Conflicting values in the form ofculture clash can present even moreof a threat to mission success. Tribal,ethnic, racial and religious traditionsoften clash with Western ideals.Behavior that is acceptable inCatholic Latin America may be unac-

ceptable in Islamic Asia. And the cul-tural norms of both those areas maybe different from those of the U.S. cul-ture. Because public support is closelylinked to cultural standards, the vio-lation of cultural standards can jeop-ardize mission success.

CultureFor the purposes of this article,

culture is that system of valuesand moral standards, derived fromreligion and traditions, that char-acterize a specific society. Culturalissues are pervasive in the increas-ingly violent strategic environ-ment. Samuel Huntington calls the

problem “the clash of civilizations,”and he argues that new strategiesmust place more reliance on under-standing and on cooperative effortsrather than on conventional mili-tary power, and that this requires:

A more profound understandingof the basic religious and philosoph-ical assumptions underlying othercivilizations and the ways in whichpeople in those civilizations see theirinterests. It will require an effort toidentify elements of commonalty

between Western and other civiliza-tions. For the relevant future, therewill be no universal civilization, butinstead a world of different civiliza-tions, each of which will have tolearn to coexist with the others.11

Local cultural or moral stand-ards often become obligatory forU.S. military forces when thosestandards are incorporated intodirectives, general orders and rulesof engagement. But in OOTW,effective leadership extendsbeyond knowing the rules; itrequires cultural orientation, alanguage capability, and diplomacyin politically sensitive peacetimeenvironments. While these require-ments are new for leaders of con-ventional combat forces, they havelong been the standard for special-operations leaders.12

The remaining five principles ofOOTW, with the addition of civil-military relations, can be consid-ered characteristics of legitimacy.They also underscore the impor-tance of the requirements of mili-tary legitimacy, especially the rele-vance of the law, to mission success.

ObjectiveObjective, the second principle of

OOTW, should be read as politicalobjectives, based on the LIC imper-ative of primacy of the politicalinstrument.13 In peacetime, thepredominance of political objec-tives over military objectivesmakes legitimacy the central con-cern of all parties in a conflict.However, the difficulty in makingpolitical objectives, such as publicsupport, a higher mission prioritythan the more familiar militaryobjectives puts conventional mili-tary leaders ill at ease with OOTW.

Public supportPublic support represents the

collective public perceptions thatdetermine and measure military

Fall 1999 35

In OOTW, effective leader-ship … requires culturalorientation, a languagecapability, and diplomacyin politically sensitivepeacetime environments.While these requirementsare new for leaders of con-ventional combat forces,they have long been thestandard for special-oper-ations leaders.

legitimacy in a democracy. Even inwartime, popular will is recognizedas “the center of gravity of anation’s ability to wage war.”14 Ifpopular will is a nation’s center ofgravity in wartime, it is even morecrucial to legitimacy and missionsuccess in OOTW. The interrela-tionship between legitimacy andpublic support is emphasized inspecial-operations doctrine:

In modern conflict, legitimacy isthe most crucial factor in develop-ing and maintaining internal andinternational support. … Legitima-cy is determined by the people of thenation and by the internationalcommunity based on their collectiveperception of the credibility of itscause and methods. Without legiti-macy and credibility, special opera-tions will not gain the support offoreign indigenous elements, theU.S. population, or the internation-al community.15

LIC doctrine confirms the impor-tance of public support to strategicobjectives, and the importance of mili-tary operations to that public support:

In order to accomplish their larg-er objectives in LIC, military lead-

ers must consider the effect of alltheir actions on public opinion. Thelegitimacy of the actions of anarmed force, or even individualmembers of the force, can have far-reaching effects on the legitimacy ofthe political system that the forcesupports. The leader must ensurethat his [or her] troops understandthat a tactically successful opera-tion can also be strategically coun-terproductive because of the way inwhich they executed it and how thepeople perceived its execution.16

Two publics factor into the mili-tary-legitimacy equation — theU.S. populace and the populace inthe area of operations:

LIC is a political struggle in whichideas may be more important thanarms. Therefore the U.S. government, incoordination with allies and hostnations, must fight for the minds of thepeople not only inside the host nation,but also in the U.S. and the internation-al community. Gaining and maintain-ing popular consensus is essential.17

Domestic public support for peace-time military operations varies withthe perception of the threat: Thegreater the threat, the greater the

likelihood of public support for theuse of military force, and vice versa.While the public tends to forgive mil-itary excesses when the threat isclear, as it was in Desert Storm, ithas little tolerance for militaryexcesses and collateral damagewhen the threat is more ambiguous,as it was in Somalia (and as it is inmost OOTW). The recent NATObombing campaign in Yugoslaviadrew a mixed public reaction; onlytime will tell whether the militaryvictory contributes to the long-termstrategic objective of regional peacewith justice.

While we can gain public supportin large part by meeting therequirements of military legitima-cy, public support has its ownunpredictable dynamic. Without aclear and present threat to simpli-fy the issues of military legitimacyin peacetime, domestic public sup-port for overseas military opera-tions is fickle at best. Congression-al leaders understand this. Giventhe dominance of political objec-tives in OOTW, military leadersmust also understand the impor-tance of public support to missionsuccess, as well as those factorsthat influence it.

The media reflects and shapesthe public support needed for polit-ical objectives. During the ColdWar, the relationship between themedia and the military was oftencharacterized by mutual suspicion.The low point came during theVietnam War, when the military(made paranoid by a hostile media)engaged in unwarranted censor-ship and cover-ups of militaryoperations. The rocky relationshipbetween the military and themedia continued after Vietnam, asevidenced by the Iran-Contra affairand other incidents involving U.S.advisers in politically sensitiveareas such as Latin America.

Since the end of the Cold War, therelationship between the media and

36 Special Warfare

U.S. public support is important to mission success, but without a clear and present threat tosimplify the issues of military legitimacy in peacetime, public support will be fickle, at best.

Photo by Frank Simpkins

the military has improved. Therehave been few restrictions on mediacoverage of military operations, andmedia coverage has been mostlyfavorable, contributing to a morepositive image of the military. Casu-alties among journalists in Somaliaand in the Balkans have sensitizedthe media to the need for the mili-tary to provide security for all non-combatants. The media’s under-standing of this aspect of securitywill contribute to the public supportneeded to sustain military andpolitical legitimacy, so long as mili-tary leaders do not shoot them-selves in the foot by disregardingthe requirements of legitimacy.

The First Amendment to theConstitution protects a free pressas the cornerstone of liberty.Despite a history of mutual suspi-cion between the military and themedia, recent experience indicatesthat the two can be allies. Militarypersonnel should understand thatit is shortsighted to restrict mediacoverage of military operations forother than security reasons. To theextent that it reports the truth, themedia fulfills an important ele-ment of military and political legit-

imacy — the public’s right to know.Bad press can often be attributed to

vaguely defined mission statementsand command directives. Concise and

clearly defined objectives are therefore a prerequisite of legitimacy andare closely related to the principles ofunity of effort and restraint:

A clearly defined and attainableobjective — with a precise understand-

ing of what constitutes success — iscritical when the U.S. is involved inpeace operations. Military command-ers should understand specific condi-tions that could result in mission fail-ure as well as those that mark success.Commanders must understand thestrategic aims, set appropriate objec-tives, and ensure that these aims andobjectives contribute to unity of effortwith other agencies.18

Unity of effortUnity of effort, the third principle

of OOTW, provides an organizationaldimension to military legitimacy andis closely related to political objec-tives and civil-military relations.Unity of effort is analogous to unityof command, a principle of combatoperations. But because OOTWinvolve a variety of military andcivilian personnel, the traditionalmilitary chain of command isimpractical. Still, mission successdepends upon a workable decision-making process and a coordinatedeffort between the diverse militaryand civilian components. Missionsuccess also requires military lead-ers who can combine military profi-ciency with the finesse of a diplomat:

Commanders may answer to acivilian chief, such as an ambassa-dor, or may themselves employ theresources of a civilian agency. Com-mand relationships may often beonly loosely defined, causing com-manders to seek an atmosphere ofcooperation rather than commandauthority to achieve objectives byunity of effort. Military command-ers consider how their actions con-tribute to initiatives that are alsopolitical, economic, and psychologi-cal in nature.19

The international dimension ofOOTW, especially peace opera-tions, makes unity of effort evenmore complex:

Whenever possible, commandersshould seek to establish a control

Fall 1999 37

The other public that factors into the military-legitimacy equation is the populace in the area ofoperations. No matter how effective military operations are, lasting legitimacy ultimately dependsupon the public support of the indigenous population.

DoD photo

Military personnel shouldunderstand that it isshortsighted to restrictmedia coverage of mili-tary operations for otherthan security reasons. Tothe extent that it reportsthe truth, the media ful-fills an important elementof military and politicallegitimacy — the public’sright to know.

structure, such as a civil-militaryoperations center, that takes accountof and provides coherence to, allactivities in the area. As well as mil-itary operations, this structureshould include the political, civil,administrative, legal, and humani-tarian activities involved in thepeace operations. Without such astructure, military commandersneed to consider how their actionscontribute to initiatives that are alsodiplomatic, economic, and informa-tional. This requirement will neces-sitate extensive liaison with all theinvolved parties as well as reliablecommunications. Because peaceoperations will often involve small-unit activities, to avoid friction alllevels must understand the military-civilian relationship.20

To achieve unity of effort inOOTW, military leaders must beable to bridge the formidable gapbetween military matters anddiplomatic matters, and they mustbe able to overcome barriers of cul-ture and language. The demandingqualities of a diplomat-warrior areexpected in special-operationsforces, but they are often consid-ered inappropriate for convention-al combat leaders.21

RestraintRestraint in the use of force is

the fourth principle of OOTW, andit is interwoven with all the otherprinciples. It is based on thepremise that excessive force causescollateral damage that can under-mine the public support requiredfor political objectives and legiti-macy. If we learned anything fromthe Vietnam debacle, it was that noamount of military force can sub-stitute for political legitimacy:

Legitimacy derives from the per-ception that [military] authority isgenuine, effective, and uses properagencies for reasonable purposes.No group or force can decree [or

force] legitimacy for itself [or oth-ers], but it can create and sustainlegitimacy by its actions.22

The application of restraint inmilitary operations is based onthe principles derived from thejust-war tradition. These princi-ples (military necessity, discrimi-nation, proportionality and theavoidance of unnecessary suffer-ing) have been incorporated intothe law of war and have beenapplied to OOTW by analogy.

Military necessity justifies theuse of offensive force to attain mili-tary objectives, but that force mustbe restrained by the remainingprinciples of discrimination, propor-tionality and avoidance of unneces-sary suffering. Discrimination lim-its targets; proportionality requiresthat the attainment of missionobjectives be balanced with thepotential for civilian casualties anddamage to civilian property. Unnec-essary suffering must be avoidedacross the board.23

Standards of restraint are incorpo-rated into the rules of engagement,

or ROE. ROE are tailored to eachoperation. Peacetime ROE are basedon self-defense, and they are muchmore restrictive than wartime ROEbecause of the primacy of politicalobjectives and the need for publicsupport to achieve them.24

In operations other than war,these ROE will be more restrictive,detailed, and sensitive to politicalconcerns than in war. Moreover,these rules may change frequently.Restraints on weaponry, tactics,and levels of violence characterizethe environment. The use of exces-sive force could adversely affectefforts to gain legitimacy andimpede the attainment of bothshort-term and long-term goals.25

The restricted use of force as aLIC imperative has long under-scored the importance of the lawand of ROE as requirements of mil-itary legitimacy:

The nature of the LIC environ-ment imposes greater limits on theuse of military power than is usual-ly the case with conventional war-fare. This is reflected in the legal

38 Special Warfare

U.S. soldiers distribute food supplies to Panamanians during Operation Just Cause. JustCause reflects the U.S. bias for quick combat solutions over more protracted measures.

U.S. Army photo

restrictions and the operationaland social restraints usuallyencountered in LIC. Military opera-tions in the LIC environment maybe highly visible and politicallysensitive. They require particularattention to international, U.S., andhost nation law including multina-tional and bilateral agreementsand Congressional authorizationsand appropriations.

Excessive violence can adverselyaffect efforts to gain or maintainlegitimacy and impede the attain-ment of both short-term and long-term goals.26

In peace operations, restraint isespecially important to both legiti-macy and mission success:

Restraints on weaponry, tactics,and levels of violence characterizethe environment of peace operations.The use of excessive force mayadversely affect efforts to gain ormaintain legitimacy and impede theattainment of both short- and long-term goals. The ROE, and reasonsfor them, need to be understood andregularly practiced by all soldierssince a single thoughtless act couldhave critical political consequences.

The use of force may attract aresponse in kind. Its use may alsoescalate tension and violence in thelocal area and embroil peace opera-tion troops in a harmful long-termconflict that is contrary to theiraims. For that reason the use offorce should be a last resort andshould be used when other meansof persuasion are exhausted.

In all cases, force will be pru-dently applied proportional to thethreat. In peace operations everysoldier must be aware that the goalis to produce conditions which areconducive to peace and not to thedestruction of an enemy.27

The 1999 NATO bombing cam-paign in Yugoslavia was an anom-aly. The destruction of bridges, utili-ties and media centers in majorcities was reminiscent of World War

II, and it most certainly alienatedthe Serbian population. The bomb-ing campaign seems to be evidenceof a lower standard of restraint forstrategic air power than for groundforces, having ugly precedents inDresden, Tokyo, Hiroshima andNagasaki. What was unusual aboutthe NATO campaign was its moraljustification: It was not conducted todeter international aggression butto halt ethnic cleansing. Althoughthe bombing campaign was militar-

ily successful, its effect on long-termNATO political objectives in theregion remains to be seen.28

PerseverancePerseverance, or patience, is the

fifth principle of OOTW. Politicalobjectives do not often lend them-selves to a quick fix, but U.S. lawand political expediency have tra-ditionally favored short and deci-sive applications of combat force inpeacetime. The U.S. public has tra-ditionally become impatient withpeacetime military operations thatinvolve U.S. casualties.

Public impatience is reflected inthe law. The War Powers Resolu-tion (50 USC 1541-1548) requiresthe president to consult with Con-

gress before committing U.S. forces“where imminent involvement inhostilities is clearly indicated bythe circumstances.” It also limitsU.S. military involvement in suchsituations to 60 days without theapproval of Congress. The U.S.strikes into Grenada (Urgent Fury)and Panama (Just Cause) reflectthe historical bias of presidentsand of Congress for quick combatsolutions to peacetime securityissues rather than for more pro-tracted and controversial OOTW,such as those in Somalia, Haiti andthe Balkans, that rely on moreextended noncombat activities.29

No matter how effective combatoperations are, lasting legitimacyultimately depends upon broad-based indigenous public support.In conflicts that are based onintractable cultural (religious andethnic) differences, achieving pub-lic support, if such a thing is possi-ble, will require unusual persever-ance. Helping indigenous forcesestablish law and order out ofchaos and then mobilizing the pub-lic support required for stable gov-ernment depends upon realisticlong-range political objectives andthe patience to achieve them. Armydoctrine cautions commanders thatshort-sighted quick fixes canthreaten strategic aims:

Commanders must assess quickcontingency response optionsagainst their contribution to long-term, strategic objectives.

If committed forces solve animmediate problem within a nationor region [with military force] butdetract from the legitimacy of thegovernment in so doing, they haveacted detrimentally against long-term, strategic aims.30

SecuritySecurity, the sixth principle of

OOTW, complements — and com-plicates — the principle of

Fall 1999 39

Helping indigenous forcesestablish law and orderout of chaos and thenmobilizing the publicsupport required for sta-ble government dependsupon realistic long-range political objec-tives and the patience toachieve them.

restraint. While lethal force mustbe restrained to achieve politicalobjectives in peacetime operations,that restraint must be balancedwith the need for security, or self-defense: “Regardless of their mis-sion, commanders must protecttheir forces at all times. The intrin-sic right of self-defense alwaysapplies.”31

Commanders may be responsiblefor protecting more than their ownforces; they may also be responsi-ble for the security of civilians intheir area of operations. If so, therequirements of civil law and ordermake diplomacy and good civil-mil-itary relations prerequisites forlegitimacy:

Security requires more thanphysical protective measures. Aforce’s security will be significantlyenhanced by its perceived legitima-cy and impartiality, the mutualrespect built between the force andthe other parties involved in thepeace operation, and the force’s

credibility in the internationalarena. Effective public affairs,PSYOP and CA programs enhancesecurity.32

As it relates to legitimacy and tothe public support required forpolitical objectives, security forcivilians is just as important as itis for the military forces. Securityis especially important when civil-ians are interned for any reason.For example, when civilians areinterned in temporary refugeecamps, military authorities mustdevelop rules and disciplinary pro-cedures for maintaining law andorder, much like an occupationforce would do. Whether or not theU.S. military is considered to be anoccupation force, as long as there isno effective civil-law enforcement,the military has a moral if not alegal obligation to provide securityfor civilian persons and their prop-erty. Experiences in Just Cause inPanama, Restore Hope in Somalia,and Uphold Democracy in Haiti

have confirmed the doctrinal prin-ciple that military legitimacydepends upon law and order beingprovided where there is none.33

If the predictions of RobertKaplan in “The Coming Anarchy”prove to be correct, primal violenceand the disintegration of tradition-al military forces could make secu-rity the predominant considerationin future OOTW — a contrast withthe predominance of restraint inthe past.34 Continuing experiencein Bosnia and in Kosovo seems toconfirm Kaplan’s predictions. Last-ing security in the Balkans willrequire the cooperation of theSerbs, but the hostile attitudesthat were created by the NATObombing may delay real security inthe region. In any event, experi-ence has shown that providing lawand order is the first requirementof security, giving the rule of law anew strategic priority in the future.

Civil-military relationsCivil-military relations is not a

doctrinal principle of OOTW, but itshould be. In situations wherecivilians are a mission objective,the interrelationship between themilitary and the civilians canmean the difference between mili-tary victory and political defeat.

The priorities of civil-militaryoperations in war are reversed inpeace. In wartime, the primaryconcern regarding civilians in thearea of operations is to preventtheir interference with combat;civil-military relations are sec-ondary to defeating the enemywith overwhelming force. But inpeacetime, public support for polit-ical objectives, both at home and inthe area of operations, is moreimportant than defeating anambiguous enemy; civil-militaryrelations become a primary focus oflegitimacy in OOTW.

Most OOTW should be consid-

40 Special Warfare

Civil Affairs soldiers provide the interface between military forces and civilians that is critical inOOTW. Noncombat forces, such as CA, would assume the primary role in OOTW.

Photo by Rick Sforza

ered civil-military operationsbecause of the primacy of politicalobjectives that depend upon publicsupport. Civil affairs, or CA, refersto the civil-military operationsand to the forces that conductthem.35 CA provides the interfacebetween military forces and civil-ians that is critical to legitimacyin OOTW. CA doctrine emphasizescivil-military relations as a com-mand responsibility:

Civil Affairs (CA) is an inherentresponsibility of command. CAencompasses the activities that mil-itary commanders take to establishand maintain relations betweentheir forces and the civil authoritiesand general population, resources,and institutions in friendly, neu-tral, or hostile areas where theirforces are employed.36

More than any other military dis-cipline, CA emphasizes the princi-ples of restraint, security and com-pliance with civilian-protection lawas a mission objective, which is:

To assist command compliancewith OPLAW requirements, insofaras military circumstances permit, byproviding those resources necessaryto meet essential civil requirements,avoiding property and other dam-ages to usable resources, and mini-mizing loss of life and suffering.37

The requirements of legitimacyand the principles of OOTW under-score the importance of CA both asa concept and as a capability need-ed for mission success in the newstrategic environment.

The priority of political objectivesin OOTW requires that militaryleaders be adaptable (adaptability isthe sixth of the LIC imperatives) —able to think outside the box.38 Areview of the requirements of legiti-macy and the related principles ofOOTW reveals their unconvention-al nature, at least relative to con-ventional combat operations. Someargue that OOTW are inappropri-ate for and degrade the capabilities

of combat forces. They urge the U.S.to avoid military commitments likethose in Somalia, Haiti and the Bal-kans.39 Perhaps they have forgottenthat such operations have been thenorm for special operations in LIC,and that they were the norm evenfor conventional forces prior toWorld War II.40

One response to the ongoingdebate about OOTW would be toreturn the controversial civil-mili-tary missions to the special-opera-tions forces who are trained to per-form them. If participation inOOTW truly degrades the combat

skills of conventional forces, thennoncombat forces should assumedominant roles in OOTW. Missionpriorities would be reversed: Non-combat forces (such as CA) thatplay a supporting role in war-fight-ing would assume the primary rolein OOTW; combat forces wouldtake a secondary role. NationalGuard forces, whose domestic mis-sion is to provide emergency assist-ance to civil authorities, could alsoassume a greater role in OOTW.41

A realignment of military forcesto more closely match their OOTW

missions would limit opportunitiesfor active-component combat forcesto deploy in peacetime, but it wouldmollify critics of OOTW, who claimthat such operations degrade ourcombat capability. It would alsoacknowledge the unique nature ofthe military capability that isneeded to bridge the gap betweenthe limits of diplomacy and war.42

Whether we consider OOTW to beconventional operations or specialoperations, the principle of civiliansupremacy applicable to mostOOTW supports an enhanced rolefor reserve-component personnel —civilian soldiers — who have theskills essential for civil-militaryoperations. It should be no surprisethat 97 percent of all CA personnelare in the reserves, as are most mil-itary lawyers. Unlike combatreservists who have a wartime con-tingency mission, these civilian-sol-diers are not back-ups for activecomponent soldiers; rather, they arepart-time operators and advisers inOOTW. In recent years, these civil-ian-soldiers have demonstratedthat they are capable of deployingon short notice for extended toursoverseas. They have proven them-selves to be critical components of apeacetime-engagement capability.43

In summary, the same civilianswho are obstacles in combat opera-tions become mission priorities inOOTW. This reversal of prioritiescan confuse military leaders andjeopardize military legitimacy andmission success. The principles ofOOTW give credence to this phe-nomenon and illustrate the impor-tance and the complexity of legaland political issues in OOTW.Civilian-protection law providesstandards and a workable formatfor applying those standards on theground, but the standards ofrestraint are less stringent for airpower. Even if the conflictingstandards on restraint are recon-ciled, they can never substitute for

Fall 1999 41

In wartime, the primaryconcern regarding civil-ians in the area of oper-ations is to prevent theirinterference with com-bat. … But in peacetime,public support for polit-ical objectives, both athome and in the area of operations, is moreimportant than defeatingan ambiguous enemy.

the moral context of decision-mak-ing at all levels.

Following the NATO campaignin Yugoslavia and the exodus ofSerbian forces from the embattledprovince of Kosovo, President Clin-ton proclaimed that NATO had“done the right thing the rightway.” That is a strategic conclusionthat is yet to be seen. And ques-tions remain: Did the extensivebombing of infrastructure targetsso alienate the Serbian populace asto undermine regional peacekeep-ing operations? Will Milosevic andhis henchmen answer at the Haguefor their crimes?44

At both the operational level andthe tactical level, the interrelatedissues of public support, restraintand security will continue to hauntcommanders in the new milleni-um. In the ambiguous and unfor-giving conflict environments ofOOTW, the military leader mustbe competent in military skills; hemust demonstrate a knowledge ofcivilian-protection law and adhereto a sound ethical code; and hemust also have the finesse of adiplomat — that is, he must be ascomfortable working with civiliansas he is with military personnel.That may be beyond the capabilityof conventional forces, but it isbusiness as usual for special-oper-ations forces.

Colonel RudolphC. Barnes Jr. servedon active duty asassistant staff judgeadvocate for the JFKCenter for SpecialWarfare and subse-quently as group judge advocateand Civil Affairs legal officer forSpecial Action Force-Asia (1st Spe-cial Forces Group and 97th CivilAffairs Group). As an ArmyReservist, he has served as the legalofficer of the 360th CA Brigade; as

command judge advocate (IMA) ofthe JFK Special Warfare Centerand School; and as the staff judgeadvocate for the Army Civil Affairsand Psychological OperationsCommand. He is currentlyassigned to SWCS (IMA), with dutyat the Army Special OperationsCommand. Colonel Barnes hasserved on a number of deployments,most recently as a Civil Affairs offi-cer accompanying the North Car-olina National Guard to Moldovaas part of the Partnership for Peace.He has written numerous articleson operational law and CivilAffairs, and he is the author of Mil-itary Legitimacy: Might and Rightin the New Millenium (London:Frank Cass, 1996). A graduate ofthe Army Command and GeneralStaff College and the Army WarCollege, he holds a BA from theCitadel, as well as an MPA and aJD from the University of SouthCarolina. Colonel Barnes practiceslaw in Prosperity, S.C.

Notes:1 The activities of OOTW and the reversal

of mission priorities therein are discussedin the author’s book, Military Legitimacy:Might and Right in the New Millennium(London: Frank Cass, 1996), pp. 36-48, 133,135 (hereinafter referred to as MilitaryLegitimacy).

2 For a discussion of military legitimacyand its relationship to the principles ofOOTW, see Military Legitimacy, chapter 3.References to doctrinal principles andimperatives are from the following: JCS Pub3-07, Doctrine for Joint Operations in LowIntensity Conflict, the Joint Chiefs of Staff(Final Draft, January 1990), p. I-6 (here-inafter referred to as JCS Pub (LIC) 3-07);the principles of OOTW are stated in JCSPub 3-07, Joint Doctrine for Military Opera-tions Other Than War, 16 June 1995, atchapter II, which superseded the earlierdraft of JCS Pub (LIC) 3-07 (hereinafterreferred to as JCS Pub (OOTW) 3-07); FM100-5, Operations, Headquarters, Depart-ment of the Army, June 1993, at p. 13-4(hereinafter referred to as FM 100-5); andFM 100-23, Peace Operations, Headquar-ters. Department of the Army, December1994, at pp. 15-18 (hereinafter referred to asFM 100-23). The principles of OOTW have

been reordered in this article to correlatethem to the LIC imperatives.

3 The principles of war are listed in Appen-dix A to Joint Pub 3-0, Doctrine for JointOperations, 1 February 1995: Objective,offensive, mass, economy of force, maneuver,unity of command, security, surprise andsimplicity. The principles of OOTW are listedin chapter V of the same publication. For asummary of arguments for and againstOOTW, see Military Legitimacy, pp. 155, 156.

4 See JCS Pub (LIC) 3-07, p. I-26; also seeJCS Pub (OOTW) 3-07, pp. II-5.

5 Barry Crane, et al., “Between Peace andWar: Comprehending Low Intensity Con-flict,” Special Warfare (Summer 1989), p. 5.

6 Civilian protection law is the subject ofchapter 7 of the Operational Law Handbook(Charlottesville, Va.: International andOperational Law Department, The U.S.Army Judge Advocate General’s School[JA422 2000]). Human rights is the subjectof chapter 6 of the OPLAW Handbook.

7 The evolution of democracy, humanrights and the rule of law in diplomacy iscovered in chapter 4 of Military Legitimacy.

8 See FM 100-1, The Army, Headquarters,Department of the Army (May 1986), chap-ter 4; and FM 22-100, Military Leadership(coordinating draft), Department of theArmy, June 1988), chapter 4.

9 Letter from General Dennis J. Reimer onArmy values, dated 14 May 1997. Also seeMilitary Legitimacy, pp. 21-23, 155-57, andnote 59 at p. 163.10 See Military Legitimacy, pp. 106, 107.11 Samuel P. Huntington, “The Clash of Civi-lizations,” Foreign Affairs, Summer 1993, p. 22.12 On cultural issues in LIC, see James K.Bruton and Wayne D. Zajac, “Cultural Inter-action: The Forgotten Dimension of LowIntensity Conflict,” Special Warfare (April1988), p. 29.13 As to primacy of the political instrumentand political dominance, see JCS Pub (LIC) 3-07, p. I-25; JCS Pub (OOTW) 3-07, pp. vi, I-2;also see FM 100-20, p. I-8.14 A. J. Bacevich has emphasized the role of“the people” in contemporary warfare in“New Rules: Modern War and Military Pro-fessionalism,” Parameters (December 1990),pp. 12, 19. On the need for public support forlegitimacy in OOTW, see Military Legitima-cy, pp. 58-60, 133, 134.15 FM 100-25, Doctrine for Army SpecialOperations Forces (Final Draft, October1990), pp. 2-29, 30.16 FM 100-20, p. I-85.17 JCS Pub (LIC) 3-07, see supra note 2.Mission creep resulting from the lack of aclearly defined mission statement and endstate no doubt contributed to the loss oflegitimacy for U.S. forces in Somalia follow-

42 Special Warfare

ing the abortive 1993 raid in Mogadishu.See Military Legitimacy, pp. 20, 135.18 FM 100-23, p. 15. One frustrated U.N.commander characterized the politicaldilemma as follows: “None of the politicalleadership can tell me what they want me toaccomplish. That fact, however, does notstop them from continually asking me whenI will be done.” See OPLAW Handbook,supra note 6, at p. 7-5.19 FM 100-5, p. 13-4.20 FM 100-23, p. 16.21 See Military Legitimacy, pp. 107-15, 135,136, 155, 156.22 FM 100-5, p. 13-4; JCS Pub (LIC) 3-07, p.I-26; JCS Pub (OOTW) 3-07, pp. II-5, II-7, II-8; FM 100-20, p. I-9; also see Military Legit-imacy, pp. 138-43.23 See FM 27-10, The Law of Land Warfare,Department of the Army (1956), para 3a(military necessity); para 34 (unnecessarysuffering); and para 41 (proportionality); forthe application of the principles of discrimi-nation and proportionality to peacetimemilitary operations, see William V. O’Brien,“Special Operations in the 1980s: AmericanLegal, Political, and Cultural Constraints,”Special Operations in U.S. Strategy (Wash-ington, D.C.: National Defense UniversityPress, 1984), pp. 53, 69-73.24 Rules of engagement are directivesissued by competent military authority thatdelineate the circumstances and limitationsunder which U.S. forces will initiate and/orcontinue combat engagement with otherforces encountered. Joint Pub 1-02, Depart-ment of Defense Dictionary of Military andAssociated Terms, 1 December 1989. Seegenerally, OPLAW Handbook, supra note 6,chapter 8.25 FM 100-5, p. 13-4.26 JCS Pub (LIC) 3-07, pp. I-24, I-27; alsosee JCS Pub (OOTW) 3-07, pp. II-4, II-7.27 FM 100-23, p. 17.28 Eliot Cohen has advocated the use of airpower against urban infrastructure targetsas a matter of national policy, but the incon-sistency, if not illegality, of such a strategicpolicy has not been lost on warriors on theground who are subject to more stringentstandards of restraint. Eliot A. Cohen, “TheMystique of U.S. Air Power,” Foreign Affairs(January/February 1994), pp. 109, 123. For adiscussion of this issue that cites the Cohenarticle, see Military Legitimacy, chapter 1,pp. 13-19. But see note 44, infra, whichtakes issue with the premise of the Cohenarticle in concluding that the NATO bomb-ing campaign was a failure.29 See generally, Military Legitimacy, pp.137, 138.30 FM 100-5, p. 13-4; also see FM 100-23, p. 18.31 FM 100-5, p. 13-4.

32 FM 100-23, p. 17.33 See Military Legitimacy, pp. 143, 144.34 Robert D. Kaplan, “The Coming Anarchy,”The Atlantic Monthly, February 1994, pp.44, 46.35 Civil Affairs, or CA, and civil-militaryoperations, or CMO, are closely relatedterms that are used interchangeably in thiscontext. CA encompasses all activitiesinvolving the interface between militaryand civilian personnel; CA is defined by lawas a special-operations activity. CMO is ageneric term referring to the use of militaryforces to perform traditionally nonmilitaryactivities. See JCS Pub 3-57, Doctrine forJoint Civil Affairs, 21 June 1995, pp. I-1, I-2(hereinafter referred to as JCS Pub 3-57);also see Military Legitimacy, pp. 70, 71, 149-55, 167-78.36 JCS Pub 3-57, p. I-1.37 Ibid., p. I-8; also see pp. II-3, II-4.38 See Kalev I. Sepp, “Preparing for 2010:Thinking Outside the ‘War Box,’ ” SpecialWarfare (Winter 1997), p. 2.39 See Military Legitimacy, pp. 155, 156.40 Ibid., pp. 145-55, 157.41 Ibid., pp. 170, 171.42 Ibid., pp. 107-14.43 Ibid., pp. 166-69, 174-78.44 At least one author has characterized theNATO campaign as a failure, citing, interalia, the bombing of “objects indispensable tothe survival of the civilian population,” whichis prohibited by Article 14 of the 1977 Proto-col to the 1949 Geneva Convention. SeeMichael Mandelbaum, “A Perfect Failure:NATO’s War Against Yugoslavia,” ForeignAffairs, September/October 1999, pp. 2, 6.

Fall 1999 43

Early in 1993, Mary Baudar ofWinona, Minn., received an invita-tion from state school officials to

attend kindergarten in the fall. The 104-year-old woman was puzzled: She hadattended kindergarten years before crayonswere even invented. But to the digitallymyopic Minnesota computers — whichcould recognize dates in the 20th centuryonly — Baudar was just another four-year-old born in 1989.

Four years later, in 1997, the AmwayCorporation, a $6-billion company based inAda, Mich., began rejecting a certain batchof solvents used in making cleaning prod-ucts. According to the manufacturingplant’s computers, the shelf life of thechemicals had expired: The system soft-ware read the expiration date of the year2000 as 1900. In April 1997, Money Maga-zine reported that the computer networkthat schedules appointments at three hos-pitals and 75 clinics in the Philadelphiaarea crashed when an operator scheduledan appointment after Jan. 1, 2000.

On Sept. 27, 1998, the Kansas City Starreported that an Olathe, Kan., couple hadbeen charged nearly $18,000 in insurancepremiums: Premiums that should havebeen charged in advance for coveragebeyond Dec. 31, 1999, were mistakenlyposted as being in arrears since Jan. 1,1900. In the same article, the Star reportedthat on Feb. 29, 1996, a Kansas school,Johnson County Community College, was

unable to unlock its doors: The school’ssecurity computer could not recognize Feb.29 as a legitimate date, and it refused tounlock doors accessed by magnetic keycards.

The United States’ armed forces haveexperienced similar digital horror stories.In 1997, according to a congressionalreport cited in the Sept. 13, 1997, issue ofScience News, the Defense LogisticsAgency — the organization that manages$1 trillion worth of contracts; supports1,400 different weapons systems; andmaintains the supply of food, clothing, fueland medicine for the U.S. military — sim-ply struck 90,000 items from its inventory.Since the DLA has 86 automated informa-tion systems running 39 million lines ofcomputer code, the error took 400 hours tocorrect. In September 1997, the Aegis mis-sile cruiser USS Yorktown lost propulsion.The critical failure resulted from a soft-ware-data overflow error.

The Year 2000 computer problem, or Y2K,has now become a daily news item as it per-colates in the American public conscious-ness. Perhaps it is time for the U. S. Army torecognize Y2K as the first tangible exampleof the Information Revolution.

Rolling chaosSometime during the late 1950s, comput-

er engineers more or less tacitly agreed tocomputer-code year dates in a two-digit

44 Special Warfare

Armageddon 2000: Military Implications of the Y2K Problem

by Dr. James J. Schneider

format. At the time, that method madesense for three reasons: First, since com-puter procedures of the day were basedmostly on data-entry operations, keyboardoperators would save countless keystrokes.Second, the two-digit year format savedsignificant room on computer punch cards.Finally, the format saved precious space onmass-storage devices. In 1965, onemegabyte of magnetic-disk storage cost$761. Today it costs 75 cents, but mostcomputers throughout the world still storedate information with only two digitsreserved for the year.

As we have seen from the examplesabove, the two-digit format causes manycomputers to read the year 2000 as 1900. Atask as simple as calculating one’s age forSocial Security or military pension payoutscan therefore become problematic on manycomputer systems. If you were born onMarch 31, 1920, the computer would cor-rectly calculate your age on your birthdayin 1998 as 980331-200331=78 years old.On your birthday in the year 2000, howev-er, the computer would calculate your ageas 000331-200331=-20 years old. Depend-ing on the computer-code defaults, the sys-tem will either crash or render you 20years old (and ineligible for that fat retire-

ment pension), a newborn, or 20 yearsunborn.

The costs to sort out the computer codeand to fix the Y2K problem are expected tobe enormous. The Sept. 19, 1998, issue ofThe Economist projects a high-end globalcost of $530 billion to fix the problem andanother $1 trillion to pay for litigation con-sequences. The Economist’s low-end esti-mate is a mere $200 billion to $300 billion,but it still expects litigation costs to run to$1 trillion.

While the software side of the Y2K prob-lem will likely cause system crashes andmalfunctions, sorting failures, date errors,subtle miscalculations or unexplained sys-tem inactivity, there is another side to theproblem. The other side may be even moredevastating to military and other civil-security organizations.

Despite all the discussion of the Y2Kproblem, the point is seldom stressed thatwe are actually facing two distinct prob-lems: The one most often discussed is theinformation-technology problem (comput-ers and software). But the more sinisterproblem deals with embedded systems.

Embedded systems monitor, regulate orcontrol the operation of devices, networksand systems. They are generally simple

Fall 1999 45

Photo by Jeff Viano

Y2K failures of embeddedsystems could shut down avariety of the military’smechanical devices, includ-ing vehicles and weaponssystems.

integrated-circuit chips. They are embed-ded in all electronic technology, from wrist-watches and video games to dedicatedprocessors that control large industrialplants and electric-power grids. Embeddedsystems have time-sensitive logic writtenin permanently coded instructions calledfirmware. These instructions are stored inthe chip’s programmable read-only memo-ry. The code cannot be reprogrammed. Theembedded chip itself must be found andreplaced.

The Gartner Group, a consulting firmbased in Connecticut, estimates that 50billion embedded systems are in usearound the world, and that 1-3 percent ofthem will experience a Y2K-related failure.The Gartner Group estimates that 25 mil-lion embedded systems worldwide willhave to be replaced in order to prevent mis-sion-critical failures.

Electric power utilities are among theusers that are most vulnerable to risk fromembedded systems. Estimates place theevaluation, repair and testing phases of aY2K conversion effort for a medium-sizedconventional power plant at 21 months. Ina typical power plant, it will cost $30 mil-lion-$40 million to find, repair and test the500 or more noncompliant embedded sys-

tems out of the tens of thousands installed.Nor is the problem of embedded systemsconfined to the power industry. The aver-age automobile may have as many as 20time-sensitive embedded systems. (Everwonder how your car knows when to signalthat it needs an oil change?) Embeddedsystems play a dominant role in controltechnology, and the failure of embeddedsystems could have a broad and profoundeffect on all segments of society.

The Day the Earth Stood StillIn the late 1950s, Michael Rennie and

Patricia Neal starred in the movie The Daythe Earth Stood Still. The premise of themovie reflected the atomic culture of thetimes: Aliens came to earth to stop theplanet from destroying itself with nuclearweapons. To prevent such a catastrophe,the aliens somehow shut down all mechan-ical devices on the planet. The movie was amoderate success, but all entertainmentvalue aside, its title can serve as a usefulillustration of the possible consequences ofthe Y2K problem to our society and to ourmilitary.

During the Industrial Revolution in the19th century, civilization began moving

46 Special Warfare

DoD photo

In complex systemssuch as modern militaryorganizations, there areno independent ele-ments. The loss of oneelement may render theentire system ineffective.

toward massive dispersion and distribu-tion. Time was the one common elementthat could integrate and coordinate theefforts of vastly dispersed organizationsand societies. New systems of distributedtechnologies, such as the railroad, requiredinternal control subsystems to make thewhole structure work effectively. Now, inthe late 20th century, those control subsys-tems have been replaced by the technologyof the computer revolution. Like siliconsentinels, embedded systems now regulateand monitor the individual components ofour distributed technologies, keeping thosecomponents operating as a harmoniouswhole.

The full scope of the Y2K problem and itsconsequences are still unknown to us, butwe can be certain about some of its aspects.First, we know that the Y2K bug is a tech-nological problem that cannot be solvedwith more technology. It will require amajor problem-solving effort that willinvolve virtually everyone. Second, Y2K isa series of irrevocable and non-negotiabledeadlines. We know precisely when theevent will occur; there is no mystery or sur-prise there. We do not, however, know allthe consequences of the event. Third, thisis perhaps our first major crisis within acomplex global system. Complexity theorytells us that complicated systems becomecomplex not because they have manyparts, but because their components aretied together by the speed-of-light flow ofinformation.

Consider, for instance, a classic militaryorganization like Napoleon’s army. Thearmy clearly had many moving parts,thanks to organizational innovations suchas the division and the corps; but its struc-ture was complicated at best. With the com-ing of the Industrial Revolution, armiesdeveloped a distributed quality that led,among other things, to the emergence ofoperational art. New, operationally-basedformations had to be harnessed togetherwith speed-of-light technology such as thetelegraph, which was borrowed from therailroad system.

A complex system, such as a modernarmy or a society, displays two fundamen-tal characteristics: First, the system’s evo-

lution is determined by the initial condi-tion of the system and by its boundary con-ditions, or capabilities. For example, theinitial deployment of each weapon systemprior to a battle will determine both thecourse of that battle and the outcome.Change the location of a weapon (its initialcondition) or its capability, and you changethe battle in some way.

Second, a complex system is nonlinear.There are no independent elements in acomplex system. Each element of the sys-tem interacts with all the other elements.In a rifle squad, for example, the loss of arifleman does not necessarily lead to a lin-ear (directly proportional) subtraction ofthe squad’s combat power. The combatcohesion of the entire squad is affected,and as a result the unit may be renderedineffective for combat. The idea that thewhole is greater than the sum of its parts(and that the reduction of the whole isgreater than a reduction of one of theparts) is an expression of the nonlinearquality of complex systems.

The two characteristics hold true witheven greater force for massively complexsystems like societies. Essentially, the con-sequences of the loss of any part of a com-plex social system cannot be predicted inany mathematical way, because mathemat-ics has evolved to the point that it dealsonly with fundamentally linear systems.

Contingency planningToday, there is generally guarded opti-

mism about the likely consequences of theY2K problem. Only here and there do wehear a note of caution. For instance, theNational Football League recently issued aY2K warning to all its members, notingthat the last scheduled game of the 1999season falls on Sunday, Jan. 2, 2000. Theleague instructed its teams to consider theY2K problem when making their travelplans for the last scheduled game. Moreominously, National Guard units aroundthe country are developing plans to dealwith Y2K contingencies. The WashingtonTimes reported on Feb. 22, 1999, that NewMexico plans to keep all 28 of its NationalGuard armories open on New Year’s Day.

Fall 1999 47

In Washington, half of that state’s Nation-al Guard units will be on duty that day.Lieutenant Colonel Tim Donovan, aspokesman for the Wisconsin NationalGuard, said, “The business we’re in is tohelp communities when they’re over-whelmed by an event, a blizzard, riot orother natural or man-made disaster. Wehave the resources. And many of the conse-quences being speculated about Y2K arenot unlike the things we’ve been doing foryears.”

Actions in support of local emergency-management authorities are recognizedas the legitimate domain of the activeArmy. However, as of this writing, there isno evidence of similar contingency plan-ning on the active-Army side. It may bethat deployments to stability operations(such as those in Bosnia and possibly inKosovo), and defensive deployments toplaces such as Korea have diminishedconcern about active-Army participationin Y2K contingencies. Whatever role theU.S. Army ultimately plays in addressingY2K issues, one thing is certain: Activeand reserve components are vulnerable tothe same Y2K consequences. A battalioncommander, for example, standing in hismotor pool, cannot, on any given day,answer all of the following fundamentalY2K questions:

• How many embedded systems are inyour equipment? Where are they? Howcan they be detected?

• How many embedded systems in yourinventory of equipment rely on dateinformation?

• What kinds of failures do you antici-pate? How will embedded-system fail-ures affect the accomplishment of yourmission?No one in the Army knows all the

answers to these questions. On Jan. 1, 2000,the question for commanders and staffsmay not be, Who will the Army help sup-port because of Y2K problems? Rather thequestion may be, Who will help support theArmy?

Information revolutionPundits have trumpeted the last few

decades of the 20th century as the Infor-mation Age. Many of these same punditshave also become self-appointed heraldsof an “information revolution.” Since theinitial blast of rhetoric, a more reasonedview of the Information Age has begun toemerge. Scholars like Michael Hobart andZachary Schiffman (Information Ages,1998) argue that the present informationrevolution marks the third in a series ofinformation upheavals that go back 4,000

48 Special Warfare

Photo by Sean Megy

Because many complexweapons systems areunder automated control,the effect of the Y2Kproblem could be thesame as if the failed sys-tems had been struck bya hostile enemy.

years or more. The first information revo-lution began with the invention of thealphabet and the rise of literacy. The sec-ond began in the 16th and 17th centurieswith the development of double-entrybookkeeping, algebra and calculus; andwith the emergence of numeracy (the abil-ity to reduce and manipulate packets ofnumerical information). The most recentinformation revolution, computeracy (theability to write the software that controlsthe computer), began during the Industri-al Revolution, when Charles Babbageenvisioned a universal calculatingmachine — a computer.

The Industrial Revolution replaced mus-cle with machine, but the machine still hadto be controlled by the hand of man. At theend of World War II, however, engineersdeveloped computers that could automati-cally control the machines. Automationwas born, creating the so-called informa-tion revolution and the new and powerfulscience of cybernetics — the science of con-trol. The consequences of the embedded-system aspect of the Y2K problem may rep-resent a tangible revolutionary event. In aspecial sense, the Y2K problem is the infor-mation revolution, and it will be its ownherald to trumpet its coming on Jan. 1,2000.

Virtual info-warThe three information revolutions of lit-

eracy, numeracy and computeracy haveall had significant military implications.Literacy has led to the rise of an effectivemeans of commanding and controllinglarge military formations. Numeracy hasled to the emergence of an analyticallyoriented general staff. Computeracy hasled to the automated control of advancedand complex weapons systems such as thecruise missile. Whatever the conse-quences of the Y2K problem, the overalleffect will be the same as if the failed sys-tems had been struck deliberately by ahostile enemy. Perhaps the greatest mili-tary significance of the Y2K problem isthat it will afford us a practical, real-world exercise in dealing with the conse-quences of a massive deep-information

strike against the entire automated con-trol structure of the industrialized world.The lessons could be staggering.

Dr. James J. Schneider isprofessor of military theoryat the School of AdvancedMilitary Studies, U.S. ArmyCommand and General StaffCollege, Fort Leavenworth,Kan. He has also writtenextensively on the subject of military theory,especially as it relates to issues concerningstrategy, operational art and tactics. Priorto his appointment to SAMS in 1984,Schneider spent four years as an operationsresearch analyst with the Analysis Centerof the Army Training and Doctrine Com-mand. He served three years in the Army,including a year in Vietnam with the 1stInfantry Division. He attended the Univer-sity of Wisconsin at Oshkosh and the Uni-versity of Southern California. He holds aPh.D. in Russian history from the Universi-ty of Kansas.

Fall 1999 49

50 Special Warfare

1999 IndexSpecial Warfare

ArticlesAdelstein, LTC Dan; “The 1999 SF Conference: Setting a New Standard”; Fall, 21-23.Army Values: Duty — Russell Volckmann; Summer, 21.Army Values: Loyalty — Bull Simons; Fall, 31.Army Values: Personal Courage — Roger Donlon; Spring, 25.Barnes, Colonel Rudolph C. Jr., USAR; “Military Legitimacy in OOTW: Civilians as Mission Priorities”; Fall, 32-43.Berg, SGM Edward A.; “Special Forces: In Search of a Core Ideology”; Summer, 40-42.Boyatt, COL Mark D.; “Special Forces Core Purpose: ‘What’ vs. ‘How’ ”; Winter, 19.Bush, CW3 Larry E. Jr.; “Building Special Forces to Last: Redesigning the Organizational Culture”; Summer, 16-20.Cart, Ray; “The History of the 1st Special Service Force Air Detachment”; Summer, 32-35.Clarke, SFC Paul; “Humanitarian Demining Operations: Relieving Human Suffering Worldwide”; Spring, 12-15.Clearwater, CPT John M.; “Scud Hunting: Theater Missile Defense and SOF”; Spring, 26-35.Creese, PFC Jon; “Special Forces Conference: Looking to the Future, Celebrating the Past”; Summer, 2-3.Crerar, COL J. H., U.S. Army (ret.); “Special Forces Core Purpose: A Second Opinion”; Winter, 14-18.Diemer, LTC Manuel A. and MAJ Thomas M. Joyce; “Special Forces Entry-Level Training: Vision for the

Future”; Winter, 2-11.Dyer, Dr. Mark F.; “Theory, Research, Practice: Three Ways to Increase PSYOP Effectiveness”; Fall, 24-30.Faulkner, Charles C. III; “ARSOF War Game III: Highlighting the Regional-Engagement Concept”; Winter, 12-13.Hazlett, MAJ Gary A. and Dr. Michael Sanders; “Cognitive and Personality Assessment in Special Forces

Assessment and Selection”; Fall, 14-20.Ivosevic, CW3 Michael J.; “Unconventional Warfare: Refining the Definition”; Spring, 39.Jones, COL Gary M. and MAJ Chris Tone; “Unconventional Warfare: Core Purpose of Special Forces”; Summer,

4-15.King, LTC Charles; “The Trek: Critical Event in SF Officer Training”; Spring, 22-24.McCrann, SSG Michael; “Unconventional Assisted Recovery: Providing the Doctrinal Framework”; Spring, 2-11.Paddock, Dr. Alfred H. Jr.; “Robert Alexis McClure: Forgotten Father of Army Special Warfare”; Fall, 2-9.Petit, CPT Brian S.; “SOF Initiatives in Demining: The Bosnian Entity Army Training Centers”; Spring, 16-21.Ricks, Thomas E.; “Is American Military Professionalism Declining?”; Winter, 20-25.Schneider, Dr. James J.; “Armageddon 2000: Military Implications of the Y2K Problem”; Fall, 44-49.Schoomaker, GEN Peter J.; “The Millennium Bug: Y2K Problem Demands Everyone’s Help”; Winter, 40-42.Shachnow, MG Sidney, U.S. Army (ret.); “Mentoring: Critical Assistance for the SOF Community”; Spring, 36-38.Shelton, General Henry H.; “Steel Wings and a Wielded Sword: The 160th SOAR”; Fall, 10-13.Storlie, CPT Chadwick W.; “The Liaison Coordination Element: Force Multiplier for Coalition Operations”;

Spring, 40-46.Tone, MAJ Christopher; “ARSOF Vision 2010 and ARSOF XXI: An Alternative Viewpoint”; Winter, 26-36.Weimer, LTC Curt F.; “The Multidimensional Schoolhouse: SWCS to Incorporate Distance Learning”; Winter, 37-39.Young, MAJ Rich; “Special Forces at West Point: Planting the Seed”; Summer, 36-39.Zazanis, Michelle M., Robert N. Kilcullen, Michael G. Sanders and Doe Ann Crocker; “Special Forces Selection

and Training: Meeting the Needs of the Force in 2020”; Summer, 22-31.

BooksBlack Hawk Down: A Story of Modern War; by Mark Bowden; reviewed by COL J.H. Crerar, U.S. Army (ret.);

Fall, 64-65.Built to Last: Successful Habits of Visionary Companies; by James C. Collins and Jerry I. Porras; reviewed by

Chaplain Thomas Murray; Summer, 52-53.

Fall 1999 51

Crippled Eagle: A Historical Perspective of U.S. Special Operations 1976-1996; by Rod Lenahan; reviewed byCOL J.H. Crerar, U.S. Army (ret); Spring, 57.

Phoenix and the Birds of Prey: The CIA’s Secret Campaign to Destroy the Viet Cong; by Mark Moyar; reviewed byLTC Robert B. Adolph Jr., U.S. Army (ret.); Winter, 53.

Psychological Operations: Principles and Case Studies; Edited by COL Frank L. Goldstein, USAF, and COL Ben-jamin F. Findley Jr., USAR; reviewed by Mark R. Jacobson; Spring, 56-57.

Raiders of the China Coast: CIA Covert Operations During the Korean War; by Frank Holober; reviewed byLawrence B. Sulc; Fall, 64.

Target Bosnia: Integrating Information Activities in Peace Operations; by Pascale Combelles Siegel; reviewed byCOL Gene Thompson; Winter, 52-53.

Uncertain Fate: An Australian SAS Patrol in Vietnam; by Graham J. Brammer; reviewed by CW3 ThomasRogers; Summer, 53.

Conference attendee provides recommendations

The overall effort (of the 1999Special Forces Conference) washighly commendable. Overall, thethree days in Fayetteville wereindeed well-done, and a tip of theberet to Colonel Boyatt and themany people who were involved. Iwill save time and space by not com-menting on the positive aspects ofthe event. I would like to offer someobservations on those areas that Ibelieve need reinforcement.

SF NCO participation. Sitting inthe various lectures, panels andworking groups, I was surprised bythe lack of NCO participation.While there was a sergeant majorpresent every now and then, theresimply weren’t enough E6s, E7sand E8s. This is particularlyalarming, since SF prides itself onits highly skilled enlisted person-nel. Most of us remember learningall of the important things an SFofficer must know from an NCO.Where are these men today? Theywere not visible in the symposiumsor in the exhibit areas.

Recommendations:• Encourage greater participa-

tion of SF NCOs.• Use examples of meaningful

lessons learned from NCOs.• Have SF NCOs run a CAPEX.

Challenge them, and let’s see howthey do things.

SOF panels. Having been tothree SOF symposiums within ayear (Washington, Fayetteville andTampa), I am seeing a “pattern ofpablum.” We spend too much timewith introductions and light ban-ter, and not enough time discussing

hard issues. Canned commandbriefings look good once; after that,they become boring and, in myopinion, deceptive. We know thingsare not as positive as the briefingstell us, because we talk with theofficers and NCOs (when we canfind them). One of the purposes ofthe symposiums should be to lay alot of things on the table and say,“Hey, retirees, manufacturers andSF groupies — here’s what our realproblems are: bang, bang, bang,and we need your help in fixingthem.”

Recommendations:• Pre-brief panelists. Tell them

the symposium isn’t a public-rela-tions drill; it’s a working sessionwith friendlies.

• Shorten the introductions ofpanelists and of esteemed SF andnon-SF. Most of us know who’s who,and if we need a list of assignmentsand awards, attach a copy of theindividual’s Officer Record Brief orresumé as a handout.

• Preview the content of panelists’presentations. If panelists are notwilling to submit at least an outline,they shouldn’t be participating.

• Select some panel memberswho are not associated with SF orthe military but who do have exper-tise in the panel’s subject area. Mostof Donovan’s OSS brain trust wasmade up of nonmilitary people.

• Keep panels small. In somecases, panels were so large that somemembers never got to speak. Thisdefeats the purpose of a panel.

• Use the Internet for somepanel discussions — we’re living inthat age.

• Consider events such as aninteractive CPX that would involve

the audience.• Get some of the SF groups

involved using distance-learningand video-conferencing techniques.

What is Special Forces? I listenedto a number of senior peopleaddress this issue, and I wasastounded at the diverse respons-es. Someone needs to capture whatSpecial Forces is and tack it up ona high pole for everyone to see,understand and agree with. Afterall, the meaning of Special Forcesis our Holy Grail!

Some of our esteemed seniorsseem to have problems with basictruths; i.e., “Special Forces are teach-ers,” or “Special Forces work wellwith foreign nations.” I was also sur-prised by comments such as: “SpecialForces is not the Peace Corps,” and“The nation-building mission iskilling us.” SF would probably bedead and buried now if we had notbecome involved in every MTT wecould find going to Africa, the MiddleEast or Central America. SF are out-standing because they are gifted mil-itary teachers who specialize inworking with foreign counterparts.

I think we should all be concernedby the diversity of the definition ofSF within our own community.Unless there is some recognizedcommon ground, we could becomeall things to all people, and we couldexperience mission drift.

Special Forces vs. CT. I continueto see a lot of confusion within theArmy regarding counterterroristunits and SF. Someone needs toaddress this issue openly and cor-rect it. CT units and SF are not thesame. Because SF is often paintedwith the CT brush, everyoneassumes that the two think alike.

52 Special Warfare

LettersSpecial Warfare

Unfortunately, SF often gets theblame for any missteps taken on theCT side of the fence.

Recommendations:• Correct the perception before

another Mogadishu occurs.• Look at how the British SAS,

the Israelis and the Germans haveapproached this issue.

• Consider bringing CT out intothe open (OPSEC could still bemaintained).

Need for a skunk works within spe-cial operations. Historically, the mostinnovative period for special opera-tions was during the late 1950s andearly 1960s. Why not today?

Recommendation:• Create a low-visibility skunk

works composed of a variety of tal-ent from outside the SF communi-ty to look at problems and issues.

In closing, I think we should all bealarmed when General Abrams saysthat an armor division could be justas effective in humanitarian-assist-ance missions as Special Forces. Notone person attempted to take issuewith his remark. Abrams’ remarkreminded me of a comment made bythe late General Richard Stilwell, inone of his old reports on the effective-ness of SF in Vietnam. He praised SFbackhandedly, saying how effectivethey were, but also mentioning theexcessive number of senior NCOs onA-teams. One of his final commentswas that basically any well-trainedinfantryman could do what an SFofficer does — possibly better. Shortlyafter that report, the reduction ofSpecial Forces began.

LTC Andrew G. GembaraU.S. Army (ret.)

‘Who SF are’ related to ‘what SF do’

The Summer 1999 issue of Spe-cial Warfare contained an articleby Colonel Gary M. Jones andMajor Christopher Tone definingwhat we do, and one by CW3 Larry

E. Bush defining who we are. Whatwe do and who we are certainly areclosely related. Have we as SFchanged who we are because SFoperations have evolved since ourinception? Has SF’s core missionchanged? It is appropriate thatthese discussions are occurringduring the transition from one mil-lennium to the next; the answers tothese questions will affect not onlyhow the citizen of the future viewsSpecial Forces, but more impor-tantly, how we view ourselves.

SF has recently dusted off the oldmanuals on insurgency and guerril-la warfare; we have discovered thatthose operations, combined withtoday’s technology, have relevancein the SF arena of today and tomor-row. We look back to the OSS and toour Vietnam days and say that weare reclaiming our core mission andpurpose; I believe that who we areas SF has more in common with theway Aaron Bank thought and withthe OSS command climate thanwith the way Jedburg teams operat-ed. The emphasis was on results,not on documentation and proce-dure. Men exercised the latitudegiven them by their commanders,and trust was evident both ways.Theoretically, who we are has notchanged. We are a group of peoplesharing common values, characterand capability for which we wereassessed and selected to form a Spe-cial Force for the specific andunique purpose of conductingunconventional warfare.

Webster defines “unconventional”as not conventional; not conformingto customary, formal or acceptedpractices. He defines warfare as “theaction of waging war; armed conflict;conflict or struggle of any kind.”Throughout the history of conflict,combatants facing greater numbersand better-equipped forces haveresorted to unconventional methods,with varying degrees of success. Gen-eral Giap used unconventionalmethods in Vietnam. He eventuallydefeated an enemy who had air

superiority and a great advantage inequipment and combat support. Fif-teen years later, a combination ofancient and innovative unconven-tional techniques were used inAfghanistan to defeat anotherenemy who ruled the skies and had avast advantage in equipment andmateriel support. In both examples,unconventional warfare was not lim-ited to insurgency, intelligence oper-ations or sabotage: It was the princi-ple at the forefront of every opera-tion.As long as there are combatantswith less who are fighting enemieswith more, there will be a need forunconventional warfare.

Today, geopolitics influences anydecision to deviate from customary,formal or accepted military prac-tices. USSOCOM provides the NCAwith the unconventional option overa broad spectrum of operations,from counterterrorist strikes toemploying a surrogate to sabotage acommand’s computer network. AllSOF have unconventional aspects,and they should therefore be consid-ered unconventional warriors.

The definition of unconventionalwarfare should be broad enough toinclude all SF operations, thus pro-viding a common base on which wecan build different terms for thevariety of operations we conduct.The following definition is offered:

Unconventional warfare: The useof nonconventional methodologythroughout the spectrum of conflict,in order to achieve stated militaryobjectives.

The term “methodology” is usedbecause it refers to the principlesthat are used in solving problems;“spectrum of conflict” is usedbecause it is a broader term thanoperational continuum. The defini-tion removes any reference to terms,such as insurgency or subversion,that are associated with GW. Lastly,this definition reinforces the solidar-ity of SF and serves as the commonthread between who we are andwhat we do.

There was a time when dawn

Fall 1999 53

attacks were unexpected and there-fore successful. Dawn attacks even-tually became standard practice,until the development and use of“stand to” negated their advantage.This oversimplification illustratesthat “unconventional doctrine” canbecome an antithetical term. Themore we strive to delineate, stand-ardize and measure our trainingand operations, the more conven-tional we become. In our operationalenvironment, “conventional” meansfailure. We must realize that inorder for our operations and tech-niques to remain unconventional,they must constantly evolve.

The operations and the equip-ment will be different, but let’sensure that the man remains thesame. By adhering to the principlesinherent in the definitions of whowe are and what we are, we will besuccessful in what we do.

SFC Gary Harrington5th SF GroupFort Campbell, Ky.

Det 101 supported conventional operations

I just read the article, “Uncon-ventional Warfare: Core Purpose ofSpecial Forces” (Summer 1999) byColonel Gary M. Jones and MajorChristopher Tone. The authorsshould be complimented forattempting to review and summa-rize the past history of UW, but thepast is vast, and the article con-tained a statement that I wouldlike to correct.

The article states that there wereno Allied conventional efforts (dur-ing World War II) in the China-Burma-India theater. That’s not cor-rect. OSS-Detachment 101 deployedcompany-sized guerrilla units ofAmerican-led Kachins to provideunconventional-warfare support tofour conventional forces: Merrill’sMarauders, an American Army reg-iment; the British 36th Division,

which was assigned to General Stil-well’s Northern Combat Area Com-mand; the 19th Division of theBritish 14th Army; and the Ameri-can Mars Task Force, which consist-ed of two American regiments.

Detachment 101 also deployedbattalion-sized Kachin guerrillaunits east of the Irrawaddy River,where there were no conventionalAllied forces. Because of the lack ofAmerican conventional forces, Gen-eral Dan Sultan later askedDetachment 101 to deploy a num-ber of guerrilla forces across theShan States to block any attemptby the Japanese Army to threatenthe flow of supplies on the BurmaRoad to China. Detachment 101was awarded the Presidential UnitCitation for effectively carrying outthat conventional mission.

The primary mission of the U.S.forces in Burma was to keep thesupply lines to China open so wecould keep China’s four-million-man army engaging Japaneseforces who might otherwise havebeen used against the Americans inthe Pacific. That mission was essen-tial to the success of the war, but theEuropean and Pacific theaters wereof higher priority, so few U.S. groundforces could be spared for Burma.Detachment 101, with its economy-of-force capability, had to fill thatvoid as well as it could. It did sowith considerable effectiveness.

When OSS-Detachment 101 wasorganized in April 1942, it becamethe first organization in U.S. mili-tary history created specifically toconduct unconventional warfarebehind enemy lines. Detachment101 was fortunate, (1) because wehad time to build an intelligent basebefore we had to deploy guerrillaforces, (2) because we fought inrugged, mountainous jungle terrainthat was hostile to conventionalforces and friendly to guerrillas, (3)because the Kachins, our guerrillas,were as much at home in the jungleas the animals were, and (4)because we had the latest techno-

logical gadgets to help us: the air-plane, the radio and the parachute.

In unconventional warfare, efficientcommunications and material supportare essential to success on the battle-field. The communications people inDetachment 101 built a lightweight,portable radio for field use that wassuperior to any that had existed priorto that time. Our support people hadsupply drops of ammunition prepack-aged with parachutes ready in a ware-house at an airfield in India so that wecould receive an ammunition drop intoour perimeter within an hour, if wewere surrounded and under attack bya unit of the Japanese army. This sup-port enabled us to perform our mis-sions effectively.

OSS Detachment 101 was aneffective and efficient pioneer inunconventional warfare, but itsexistence was classified as “secret”during World War II. It receivedvery little publicity after the war,because old news is not news, andeveryone was tired of hearingabout the war.

LTC James R. WardU.S. Army (ret.)Seminole, Fla.

Infosphere has changednature of war

“Unconventional Warfare: CorePurpose of Special Forces,” byColonel Gary M. Jones and MajorChristopher Tone, was excellent,but I feel that it was a bit limited,in that it portrays future SF activ-ities taking place in nation-states(or in the case of Kosovo, proto-nation-states). The InformationAge has created war forms that gobeyond conflict bounded by suchIndustrial Age geopolitical norms.

While the authors pay someattention to the Information Age intheir references to IO and IW, theymiss the idea that the nature of waritself has changed because of theinfosphere. The examples of Soma-

54 Special Warfare

lia and Rwanda used by the authorsdemonstrate precisely this point.But instead of adapting to a worldin full view of the glare of global TV(as Mohammed Aideed did), theyrecommend trying to evade.

The Clausewitzian definition ofwar is that it is the extension of pol-itics that uses the controlled appli-cation of violence to constrain theenemy to accomplish our will. Thatdefinition, however, has been erodedby the advent of instantaneous glob-al telecommunication, especiallyglobal television. It is now possibleto affect multiple bodies politicwithout directly applying force.Why else did the U.S. cut and runfrom Somalia? The effects of videofootage of a handful of U.S. casual-ties completely upended the U.S.tactical victory.

As another example, considerthat the U.S. has been engaged forthe better part of a decade in a newkind of war whose main proponentis the stateless ex-Saudi terroristUsama Ben Laden. That BenLaden has been successful can bevery succinctly put: One individ-ual, primarily self-supported, hasmanaged to engage a superpowerwith various large-scale acts of vio-lence, and after several years, thatman and his cause are still alive …and thriving.

The U.S. inability to stop BenLaden stems from our insistenceon using Cold War-legacy systemsand even more archaic thinking indealing with an asymmetric enemywho has totally adapted himselfand his operations to the info-sphere; he is in effect a virtualguerrilla whose area of operationsis global and four-dimensional. Hisadaptation to the terrain of theinfosphere makes him and hisorganization amorphous, able toappear and disappear at will.

To end the problem, the U.S.must affect the bodies politic andsupport mechanisms that allowBen Laden to carry on his opera-tions. The U.S. must adapt to the

infosphere and attempt to out-guerrilla the guerrilla.

This will require Special Forcessoldiers who are optimized for thisnew kind of combat. This meanssmall numbers of extremely well-educated soldiers, fluent in mediaas well as in languages, and capa-ble of four-dimensional combatagainst a worthy enemy.

Moreover, why would we organizesuch future soldiers in a rank struc-ture copied from Industrial Agemodels? Does Ben Laden have ninegrades of enlisted, 10 grades of offi-cer and five grades of warrants?

The Special Forces soldier wewill need in the future will be mucholder. Information warfare is thedomain of older soldiers: soldierswho are broadly educated andtrained, who can first out-thinkand then out-fight an elusiveenemy in any dimension of theInformation Age.

Chuck de CaroMcLean, Va.

Fall 1999 55

56 Special Warfare

Enlisted Career NotesSpecial Warfare

The JFK Special Warfare Center and School is seeking sergeants first class inCMF 37F, Psychological Operations, and CMF 38A, Civil Affairs, who are com-pleting assignments in troop-program units, and who wish to continue servingtheir respective communities as individual mobilization augmentees,or IMAs.ThePSYOP and CA Training and Doctrine Divisions of SWCS’s Directorate of Train-ing and Doctrine have IMA positions for soldiers in the Individual Ready Reserve,or IRR, to assist in the development of doctrine and training products. Membersof the IRR are pre-selected, pre-trained, and assigned to authorized active-dutypositions.For more information,telephone Joe Pereira,reserve affairs mobilizationplanner, at DSN 239-5911 or commercial (910) 432-5911; e-mail: [email protected].

In accordance with an interim change to AR 670-1, Special Forces-qualified sol-diers in CMF 18 who are attending language training at the Defense LanguageInstitute are authorized to wear the green beret. SF-qualified personnelassigned to the Airborne and Special Operations Test Directorate, Test andExperimentation Command, and the Operational Test and Evaluation Com-mand are also authorized to wear the green beret. The beret flash will be theone approved for personnel assigned to SF positions but not assigned to SFunits: The flash has a gray border and a green background with three bands —gray, black and purple — from top left to bottom right.

The 1999 sergeant-first-class promotion-selection board selected 17 staffsergeants from CMF 37, Psychological Operations. This represents a selec-tion rate of 31 percent, vs. the Army average of 23 percent. Fourteen of theselectees were from the primary zone, and three were from the secondaryzone. Statistics are shown below:

TIS TIG Education Age

37F (PZ) 9.8 yrs 3.5 yrs 13.0 31.1Army (PZ) 13.6 yrs 4.9 yrs 13.5 33.9

37F (SZ) 10.9 yrs 2.6 yrs 13.0 32.3Army (SZ) 11.4 yrs 2.5 yrs 13.5 31.5

Effective Aug. 3, 1999, soldiers who attend the SF Qualification Course incura 24-month service-remaining requirement, or SRR. The requirement is com-puted from the completion date of MOS training, including any required lan-guage or specialized training. Soldiers who cannot meet the SRR must extendor re-enlist before they report to the SFQC. Soldiers who recycle for academicor disciplinary reasons, or who voluntarily recycle, must extend or re-enlist asnecessary to meet the SRR before they restart training. The SRR will not beadjusted for soldiers who are recycled through no fault of their own (medicalrecycle, compassionate recycle, etc.).

IMAs assist in developingdoctrine, training

Green Beret authorized for wear at DLI

SRR for SFQC reduced to 24 months

17 PSYOP SSGs selectedfor promotion to SFC

Fall 1999 57

The Army has approved skill-qualification identifier “W” for selected positions with-in CMF 18. To be eligible for SQI W, soldiers must have completed the eight-weekSpecial Forces Advanced Reconnaissance, Target Analysis and Exploitation Tech-niques Course, or SFARTAETC, which is conducted by the SWCS. A notification offuture change dated June 21,1999,authorizes early award of SQI W to qualified per-sonnel beginning June 1,2000.Awarding of the SQI is to be accomplished by the ser-vicing military personnel office. For more information, telephone MSG George Ben-nett or MSG Brian Bernard, at DSN 239-8423 or commercial (910) 432-8423.

The Psychological Operations Enlisted Branch newsletter has been updatedwith the latest CMF information and new points of contact. The newsletteris available at http://www.perscom.army.mil/EPsf/37_notes.htm.

The 1999 sergeant-first-class promotion-selection board selected 674 staffsergeants from CMF 18, Special Forces. This CMF 18 selection rate was51.8 percent, vs. the Army average of 23 percent. Four hundred seventy-seven of the selectees were from the primary zone, and 197 were from thesecondary zone. Statistics are shown below:

TIS TIG Education Age

CMF 18 (PZ) 11.0 yrs 4.3 yrs 13.1 31.3Army (PZ) 13.6 yrs 4.9 yrs 13.5 33.9

CMF 18 (SZ) 9.0 yrs 2.5 yrs 12.8 29.0Army (SZ) 11.4 yrs 2.5 yrs 13.5 31.5

Special Forces is seeking enlisted soldiers who want to become SF warrant officers.The 2001 recruiting year will begin in March 2000, and applicants should beginnow to prepare their application packets. Applicants must be serving as a staffsergeant or above; must possess a CMF 18 MOS; must have graduated from theSF Operations and Intelligence Sergeants Course or the SF Advanced NCOCourse after October 1994; and must have a minimum of three years’ experienceat the SF A-detachment level. Applicants must include a current DA Form 330(Language Proficiency Questionnaire) with a minimum 1+/1+ language proficien-cy, or possess a minimum score of 85 on the Defense Language Aptitude Battery.Applicants must meet the medical fitness standards for SF duty and the SERECourse,according to AR 40-501,and include an SF warrant-officer-candidate med-ical screening memorandum completed by the applicant’s surgeon. Applicantsmust also pass the Army Physical Readiness Test for the 17-21 age group. Appli-cants must possess at least a secret security clearance and have letters of recom-mendation from their company, battalion and group commanders, as well as fromtheir group senior warrant officer. Individuals not assigned to SF groups musthave a letter of recommendation from their current chain of command and a let-ter of recommendation from their previous SF-group chain of command. Appli-cants must be no older than 36. Individuals who have more than 12 years of activefederal service but less than 14 years will be considered on a case-by-case basis.Those who are accessed will spend 6-8 years on an A-detachment. SF selectionrates to CW3 are around 80 percent, and to CW4, around 76 percent. Interestedapplicants should contact their group senior warrant officer or telephone CW4Edwards at the Special Operations Proponency Office, DSN 239-1879 or commer-cial (910) 432-1879.

SF seeks warrant-officerapplicants

PSYOP Branch newsletteravailable on web

Army approves SQI ‘W’for SFARTAETC

Army selects 674 SF SSGsfor promotion to SFC

58 Special Warfare

Officer Career NotesSpecial Warfare

Selective continuation in service, or SELCON, has been approved for captainswho have been twice non-selected for major. On a selective basis, SELCON willbe granted for three years, beginning the first day of the seventh month afterthe SELCON list is approved (e.g., if the list is published July 15, SELCONwill begin Feb. 1). Captains will continue to be eligible for promotion duringSELCON status. Currently, the SELCON period is not renewable, and a cap-tain will not be able to retire with fewer than 20 years’ service.

Officers in year groups 1980 and 1986 may appeal the results of their career-field designation, or CFD, board only on the basis of material error. Submittinga wrong preference could be considered a material error, subject to the board’sdetermination. Appeals boards will consist of senior officers in the operationscareer field and the deputy chief of staff for personnel. Officers have 180 daysfollowing the adjournment of the CFD board in which to file an appeal.

Special Forces has the lowest minority content of any U.S. Army combat-arms population. Since 1996, the SWCS senior leadership has attempted toincrease the branch’s minority content. The rationale is that SF, with itsworldwide audience, should represent the diversity of American society anddemonstrate the opportunities that our democracy affords its citizens. TheSpecial Operations Proponency Office monitors minority content in the SFtraining pipeline and provides the SWCS commanding general with quar-terly updates on the progress of minority soldiers, from recruitment throughcompletion of SFAS. Current data indicates that the rate at which minoritysoldiers are selected in SFAS is proportionate to the number of minority sol-diers who enter SFAS. The focus of SWCS’s minority recruiting initiatives istherefore to increase the number of minority soldiers entering SFAS.In 1998, the Rand Corporation, a nonprofit research and analysis institution,conducted a study for the Secretary of Defense on minority representation andrecruiting in special-operations forces. The results of that study were pub-lished in the October 1998 report, Minority Representation in Special Opera-tions Forces. The study concluded that while minorities are underrepresentedin SF, certain initiatives could improve minority representation. The followingSWCS minority recruiting initiatives are based on Rand’s recommendationsand on studies conducted by the U.S. Army Research Institute.• SF minority officers visit historically black colleges and universities andother institutions with sizable minority populations to inform cadets aboutthe branch’s opportunities and challenges. These minority role models raisethe visibility of SF with cadets who otherwise would have little or no expo-sure to the branch prior to being contacted by an SF recruiter.• Each summer, the SF Branch participates in the branch orientation atthe ROTC Advanced Camp at Fort Lewis, Wash. That participation rein-forces the branch’s campus visits during the academic year.• SF recruiting teams travel year-round to Army posts, promoting SF in com-

Minority representation in SF

DA approves SELCON for captains

YG 80, 86 officers mayappeal CFD

Fall 1999 59

bat, combat-support and combat-service-support units. CSS units, with theirrelatively high minority content, provide a particularly fertile minorityrecruiting ground.The Army Recruiting Command’s SF advertising campaignand several Armywide periodicals also contain photos of SF minority soldiers.In sum, the SWCS’s minority-recruiting effort, in tandem with that ofUSAREC, embraces diverse approaches to attract minority soldiers to SFAS.The ultimate goal is an SF community that demonstrates the opportunitiesthat the U.S. affords its citizens, regardless of their race or ethnic background.

This year’s LTC promotion-selection rate for Functional Area 39 was thebest so far, exceeding the Army average in all three promotion zones. Ofthe 22 officers selected for promotion, 16 were fully trained; 13 were grad-uates of the fully funded FA 39 master’s degree program.

Each year, the President’s Commission on White House Fellows selectspromising individuals to serve as White House fellows. Fellows are assignedto work with senior White House officials, cabinet secretaries, or otherdeputies. They write speeches, help review and draft proposed legislation,answer congressional inquiries, chair meetings, conduct briefings, and oth-erwise assist high-level government officials. Army officers may apply if theyare managed by PERSCOM and meet the following eligibility criteria: be aU.S. citizen; have at least three but not more than 19 years of active federalcommissioned service as of September 2000; not be competing for any otherArmy-sponsored program, fellowship or scholarship; be able to complete afull fellowship and a two-year follow-on assignment; be branched-qualifiedat current grade; have no adverse actions pending; not be serving in orscheduled to serve in a utilization assignment; meet Army height andweight requirements; and have a graduate degree. Eligible officers shouldsubmit DA Form 4187, signed by the applicant’s field-grade supervisor, totheir branch at PERSCOM. Interested officers must receive permission fromPERSCOM prior to competing; they must request permission prior to Dec.1, 1999. PERSCOM’s Functional Area Management and Development Divi-sion will forward applications to those granted permission. The White HouseCommission is scheduled to make the final selection of fellows in June 2000.The fellowship year will begin in September 2000 and end in August 2001.Fellows must move to the Washington, D.C., area.

Congratulations to the SF officers who have been selected for the ArmyWar College correspondence course — the most demanding correspon-dence course in the Army. Upon graduation, these officers will be awardeda Military Education Level 1, or MEL1. MEL1 is the Army’s highest levelfor military education, and it qualifies officers for the Army’s mostdemanding positions. The correspondence course lasts two years, includingtwo summer phases. Officers enrolled in the class of 2001 are: LTC(P) LenBlevins; COL Gene Thompson; LTC(P) Bob Brady; LTC Ric Cantu; COLGlen Vavra; and COL James Velky. The class of 2000 is midway throughthe program. Its officers are COL Randy Bissell; LTC Rick Helfer; COLFrank Pedrozo; LTC(P) Gil Perez; and COL Eric Stanhagen. Congratula-tions are also in order for COL Dave Maki and COL Sid Morgan, who grad-uated from the program in July.

FA 39 LTC promotion ratesexceed Army average

Army to select White Housefellows

SF officers selected for War College

correspondence course

60 Special Warfare

Foreign SOFSpecial Warfare

In preparation for the 2000 Sydney Summer Olympic Games, the TacticalAssault Group, or TAG, of the Australian Special Air Service Regiment,and its rotary-wing air support, have been training in the Sydney area tofamiliarize themselves with local operating conditions. TAG has been Aus-tralia’s primary counterterrorism force since 1978. Since 1996, the eliteunit has received more than $30 million in upgrades and new equipmentto enhance its capabilities. Full-time elements of the 4th Reserve Air Reg-iment Commando, or RAR, and the New South Wales Police will augmentTAG in counterterrorism operations during the Games.

According to August 1999 documents received by a Milan radio station, thereis a new European revolutionary group that calls itself the New CommunistParty. The documents made note of traditional communist revolutionary goalsand the need to fight against the “economic imperialism of Western capitalistsocieties.” They also indicated that the New Communist Party views the ter-rorism and violence of the Red Brigades in a positive light, and hinted that thenew group sees the need for assassination or other strikes to “continue on theroad to revolution.” The announcement of the new group — so far unvalidat-ed by action or other means — may be inconsequential. However, it can alsobe viewed in a more serious context. Responsibility for the May 1999 assassi-nation of Italian university professor and Labor Ministry adviser, MassimoD’Antona, was claimed two months later by the Red Brigades, a group heavi-ly attrited by Italian authorities in past years. The assassination, one of sev-eral acts of European political violence over the last several months, raisesquestions about future European terrorism. Some specialists assert that suc-cessors to the old, largely dismantled terrorist groups — the German RedArmy Faction, Belgian Fighting Communist Cells, French Direct Action andItalian Red Brigades — are re-forming and re-learning the clandestine craftsof the 1970s and 1980s. Recruits are said to be drawn from “lost young people,people excluded from capitalism, and opponents of the all-powerful position ofNATO and the United States.” Whether such disaffected recruits will eventu-ally constitute serious revolutionary terrorists or whether they will remainterrorist amateurs given to occasional violent acts is an active cause for spec-ulation among some European security specialists.

Japan is planning to develop a greater capability of dealing with the threat ofterrorists and guerrillas. The Japan Defense Agency plans to budget for thiseffort beginning in the year 2000, and it will also stress the need for defenseagainst terrorist groups that use chemical and biological weapons. Accordingto press reports, Japanese military representatives will travel to the UnitedStates to learn more about creating and equipping counterguerrilla forces.TheJapan Ground Self-Defense Force is also creating a research center that willdevelop a counterguerrilla manual, address the protection of Japan’s criticalinfrastructure and examine other associated issues. The North Korean pressreacted quickly to these developments by noting that Japan is “plotting to

Counterterrorist unit prepares for Sydney games

New terrorist groupsprompt European concerns

Japan plans greater counterguerrilla capability

Fall 1999 61

have its Self-Defense Force officers learn the methods of special operations bysending them to the United States.” The North Korean press also character-ized the homeland defense plan as the “Japanese reactionaries’ criminalmaneuver to start an anti-Republic aggressive war at any time by expandingthe Self-Defense Force’s area of responsibility and by fully completing prepa-rations for a war of aggression.” What was probably most provocative for theNorth Koreans were reports of an upcoming Self-Defense Force exercise in2000, in which the “guerrillas” are envisioned to be North Korean terroristsinfiltrated into Japan.

China has reportedly developed a force capable of carrying out long-range air-borne operations, long-range reconnaissance, and amphibious operations.Formed in China’s Guangzhou military region and known by the nickname“Sword of Southern China,” the force supposedly receives army, air force andnaval training, including flight training, and is equipped with “hundreds ofhigh-tech devices,” including global-positioning satellite systems. All of theforce’s officers have completed military staff colleges, and 60 percent are saidto have university degrees. Soldiers are reported to be cross-trained in variousspecialties, and training is supposed to encompass a range of operational envi-ronments. It is far from clear whether this unit is considered operational bythe Chinese. It is also not clear how such a force would be employed. Amongthe missions mentioned were “responding to contingencies in various regions”and “cooperating with other services in attacks on islands.” According to thelimited reporting, the organization appears to be in a phase of testing anddevelopment and may constitute an experimental unit. While no size for theforce has been revealed, there have been Chinese media claims that “over 400soldiers of the force are all-weather and versatile fighters and parachutistswho can fly airplanes and drive auto vehicles and motor boats.”

The high level of violent crime in South Africa has sparked responses byorganized and ad hoc vigilante groups. A new police organization character-ized as an “FBI-style Special Operations Directorate” is being established tocombat urban violence and vigilantism, especially in South Africa’s WesternCape and Northern Cape provinces. A major target of the “Scorpions” (as thepolice unit is called) will be the vigilante group, People Against Gangsterismand Drugs, or PAGAD. Despite its avowed aim to curtail criminality, especial-ly drug trafficking, PAGAD is perceived by the government to be “deliberate-ly subverting the authority of the state.” A second vigilante group — report-edly more exotic in its approach — is the Northern Cape vigilante organiza-tion called Mapogoa Mathamaga. It has recently become active in Pretoria.Whether the group’s supposed practice of dangling its victims in front of croc-odiles is myth or fact, it is clear that the group has beaten people to deathwhile administering its nonjudicial punishment. The new Special OperationsDirectorate was supposed to have begun operations Sept. 1. When it is fullyoperational in December, the organization will consist of 2,000 agents with avariety of intelligence, investigative and other skills.

Articles in this section are written by Dr. Graham H. Turbiville Jr. and Major Michael A. Chung, both of the U.S.Army’s Foreign Military Studies Office, Fort Leavenworth, Kan. All information is unclassified.

China forms new force for long-range operations

South African police unit to battle vigilantism

USASOC to dedicate statuein memory of Bull Simons

On Nov. 19, the Army SpecialOperations Command will dedicatea statue to the memory of ColonelArthur D. “Bull” Simons.

The dedication is scheduled for 10a.m. at the Special Warfare Memor-ial Plaza across from the JFK Spe-cial Warfare Center and School.

The 13-foot statue is the work ofsculptor Lawrence M. Ludtke, ofHouston, Texas.

Simons was born in New Yorkstate in 1918. He entered the Armyin 1941 after having been commis-sioned through ROTC. DuringWorld War II, he commanded a fieldartillery battery in the South Pacif-ic and later commanded a companyin the 6th Ranger Battalion. He leftthe Army after World War II, only tobe recalled in 1951, during theKorean War. He joined the 77thSpecial Forces Group in 1958 andlater commanded the 8th SF Groupin the Panama Canal Zone.

Simons is probably best remem-bered as the leader of the Son TayRaid, the Nov. 20, 1970, attempt toliberate American prisoners of warheld in North Vietnam. Simonsdied in 1979.

Course teaches SOF medical-sustainment skills

A new course at the JFK SpecialWarfare Center and School isdesigned to refresh the perishablecombat medical skills of special-operations medics.

The Special Operations ForcesMedical Skills Sustainment Pro-gram, or SOFMSSP, began its firstclass Oct. 17.

The two-week course focuses ontrauma care and tactical-combat-casualty care.Of the course’s 88 hours,60 are in military medicine and trau-ma management. Topics includeemergency surgical procedures suchas inserting chest tubes, performingvenous cut-downs and establishingsurgical airways. The course alsoincludes classes in war-wound man-agement; diseases of military impor-tance; emergency dentistry; environ-mental emergencies; and nuclear, bio-logical and chemical warfare.

SOFMSSP meets the minimumrequirements of the National Reg-istry of Emergency Medical Techni-cians as refresher training to recer-tify current paramedics. The courseis not designed to restore currencyfor those whose paramedic certifi-cation has expired.

SOFMSSP is open to the follow-ing specialties: SEAL corpsman,

special amphibious reconnaissancecorpsman, Special Forces medic,Ranger medic, 160th SOAR medic,528th SOSB medic, and Air ForcePararescuemen who are assignedto the Air Force Special OperationsCommand. Applicants must havegraduated from the Special Opera-tions Combat Medic, AdvancedSpecial Operations Combat Medicor Special Forces Medical Sergeantcourses, or from the 300-F1 trackthat was previously conducted atFort Sam Houston, Texas. Currentparamedic certification is not arequirement for attendance.

Application to SOFMSSP can becoordinated through medics’ unitand component surgeons’ office.Medics whose EMT-P credential willexpire March 31, 2000, will receivepriority for attending the first class-es. For additional information, tele-phone SFC Richard Toth at DSN236-7775, or commercial (910) 396-7775. Send e-mail to: [email protected].

USASOC dedicates KoreanWar Memorial Stone

On July 9, the U.S. Army SpecialOperations Command dedicated theKorean War Special OperationsMemorial Stone in Fort Bragg’sSpecial Operations Memorial Plaza.

The stone is intended to commem-orate the service of special-opera-tions soldiers who fought in theKorean war. “This is a long overdueceremony,” said Lieutenant GeneralWilliam Tangney, commander ofUSASOC. “Today we lay the stone ofa tremendous series of organizationsthat stand tall in our lineage … andwhat great units they were.

“In a very, very bloody war, in a

62 Special Warfare

UpdateSpecial Warfare

A clay model of the Bull Simons statue.Photo by Phil Provencher

very critical time in our nation’s his-tory, arose great men — small num-bers of men. Men who rose to the callof duty. Men who heard the sound ofthe distant trumpet and unhesitat-ingly volunteered … many of whomremained on active duty after theKorean War to serve within SpecialForces and a variety of other units —soldiers who have written an indeli-ble page in American history.”

In 1951, the U.S. began a special-operations campaign in Korea,expanding what were formerly intelli-gence activities into guerrilla opera-tions conducted by psychological, avia-tion and tactical units under the com-mand of the Eighth Army. The unitssupported psychological operations,engaged in escape-and-evasion activi-ties and conducted raids against theenemy. In January 1953, 75 officersand enlisted soldiers from the 10thSpecial Forces Group, then headquar-tered at Fort Carson, Colo., wereassigned to the units as advisers andstaff personnel. By that spring, 22,000Koreans had joined forces with theU.S. special-operations forces. — Spe-cialist Jon Creese, USASOC PAO

SWCS publishes CD-ROMsThe JFK Special Warfare Center

and School recently published two CD-ROMs that will allow planners of civil-military operations to quickly gatherinformation from volumes of data.

The G5 Staff Planner’s Guideand the Nongovernmental Organi-zations Reference Handbook, pre-pared by the SWCS Directorate ofTraining and Doctrine, provide rel-evant information in concise,portable, hyperlinked formats.

The purpose of the G5 Staff Plan-ner’s Guide is to place necessary lit-erature into the hands of staff plan-ners, and to aid mission analysiswith integrated, quickly referenceddoctrine. The CD-ROM includescommon civil-military-operationsdoctrine and its sources, from presi-dential-decision directives to Armyregulations. The guide streamlines

diverse CMO planning tasks,enabling users to quickly referencemission-planning data before, dur-ing and after their mission analysis.

The Nongovernmental Organiza-tions Reference Handbook lists anddescribes nongovernmental organiza-tions, or NGOs, and internationalorganizations, or IOs, in order to pro-vide the reader with a fundamentalunderstanding of the diversity oforganizations that seek to assist oth-ers. The CD-ROM is not all-inclusive,but it lists many of the organizationslikely to be in an area of operationsboth before ARSOF soldiers arrive andafter they depart. Hyperlinks take thereader to additional information aboutNGO and IO structure, capabilitiesand coordination in joint publicationsand on the Worldwide Web.

ARSOF units will receive copiesof both CD-ROMs through auto-matic distribution.

SFWOAC students need to prepare

The Special Forces Warrant Offi-cer Advanced Course, or SFWOAC,advises prospective students toensure that they have the properclearances, evaluation reports andprerequisites before they arrive atthe Special Warfare Center andSchool to begin training.

DA PAM 611-21, chapter 6, para-graph 8-30, requires that studentspossess a top-secret security clear-ance prior to attending theSFWOAC. Certain training provid-ed during the course requires SCIaccess, for which a top-secret clear-ance is mandatory.

AR 623-105, Section VII, Manda-tory Reports, paragraph 3-43, statesthat students must have a Depar-ture on Temporary Duty OfficerEfficiency Report, or OER, in orderto attend any course of instructionthat will result in the submission ofan Academic Evaluation Report, orAER. Warrant-officer career-pro-gression and professional-develop-ment courses are included. If a sol-

dier’s last OER thru date is morethan 90 days prior to the start dateof the scheduled class, the soldiermust have a Departure on Tempo-rary Duty OER in order to receivean AER from the SFWOAC.

Finally, all students must completethe nonresident Phase 1 training priorto attending resident SFWOAC. Sol-diers can enroll in the Phase 1 courseas soon as they are promoted to CW2.Soldiers can enroll via the Internet(http://leav-www.army.mil/wocc) or bycompleting DA Form 145 according tothe instructions in DA PAM 351-20,and mailing it to: Army Institute forProfessional Development; U.S. ArmyTraining Support Center; NewportNews, VA 23628-0001. The coursenumber is 131 F41.

4th PSYOP Group welcomes new commander

Colonel Christopher E. St. Johntook command of the 4th Psycho-logical Operations Group fromColonel Charles P. Borchini in aceremony held Aug. 24 at FortBragg’s Meadows Memorial Plaza.

St. John was previously assignedto the office of the Assistant Secre-tary of Defense for Special Opera-tions and Low Intensity Conflict,where he served as director of plansand support, Deputy Assistant Sec-retary of Defense for Drug Enforce-ment Policy and Support. His otherSOF assignments include detach-ment commander, 7th Special ForcesGroup; commander, 8th PSYOP Bat-talion; deputy commander, 4thPSYOP Group; and a four-yearassignment to USSOCOM.

“Soldiers in the 4th PSYOPGroup are better equipped than wehave ever been before,” St. Johnsaid. “The quality of the soldiers,noncommissioned officers and offi-cers is the best I have ever seen inmy almost 20 years of workingwith the group.”

Fall 1999 63

Raiders of the China Coast:CIA Covert Operations Duringthe Korean War. By FrankHolober. Annapolis, Md.: NavalInstitute Press, 1999. ISBN: 1-55750-388-5. 253 pages. $32.95.

When the Korean War Memorialopened in Washington, D.C., a fewyears back, the media repeatedlyreferred to the Korean conflict as “theforgotten war.”Overshadowed by bothWorld War II and Vietnam, Korea isremembered vaguely, at best.

Many things not well-chronicledhappen in war. Sometimes, smallbut nonetheless “fighting” wars,raging far from the major battle-fields, have considerable effect onthe “main event,” even if they areoverlooked by contemporary ob-servers and missed altogether byhistorians. The Korean War hadsuch a “side show” conflict — it wasthe forgotten war’s forgotten war.

In 1951, the United Nations, aftercoming perilously close to destruc-tion in the South, struck backagainst the North Korean aggres-sors, driving them north to the bor-der of the People’s Republic ofChina, or PRC. It seemed that theKorean conflict would soon be over.But Chinese intervention changedeverything: PRC forces poured intoNorth Korea, preventing a U.N. vic-tory and driving U.N. forces back tothe middle of the Korean peninsula,where a bloody stalemate ensued.

The U.S. had not long since foughtWorld War II, in which special opera-tions and guerrilla warfare hadplayed important roles. It was time toengage in special warfare again, thistime along the China coast, to takesome of the pressure off U.N. forces in

Korea. Covert action was principallythe responsibility of the CIA, whichunleashed a paramilitary effort. Rem-nants of Chinese Nationalist forces,pushed from the China mainland bythe communists, were regrouped onTaiwan and on islands off the coast.Mostly irregulars or guerrillas, theseChinese Nationalist troops, aidedcovertly by the CIA, struck repeated-ly against the PRC.

Frank Holober was one of a bandof American clandestine warriorsmarshaled by the CIA to work withthose Chinese Nationalist forces.Holober’s now-it-can-be-told storyabout this small war has been pub-lished by the Naval Institute Pressin its Special Warfare Series. Raidersof the China Coast: CIA Covert Oper-ations During the Korean War, is anexciting story and a welcomeaccount. The story cannot now becompletely ignored by history.

Raiders of the China Coast tells ofthe former American paratroopers,

the smoke jumpers, the small-boathandlers, the demolitions-and-weapons experts, the underwaterspecialists and the intelligenceoperators who leveraged theirexpertise to train, equip, adviseand support Chinese Nationalistforces — helping them to strikeback in small incursions and occa-sional big raids.

The communist reaction was dis-proportionate. A reconnaissance bya few lightly armed Nationalistguerrillas provoked the PRC intofits of excessive response, movinginfantry divisions for days, or evenweeks, after an incursion. Attacksby larger units caused an evengreater response. Captured main-land troops testified to the para-noia. Communist forces thrashingaround waiting for or reacting toNationalist incursions could not besent to Korea as reinforcements.That, of course, was the whole idea.

Raiders of the China Coast fills avoid in the record. For those whotook part in the operation, the storyis a source of pride. Frank Holoberhas done a good job, and the NavalInstitute Press is to be commendedfor publishing his book.

Lawrence B. SulcSt. Helena, S.C.

Black Hawk Down: A Story ofModern War. By Mark Bowden.New York: Atlantic Monthly Press,1999. ISBN 0-87113-738-0. 386pages. $25.

There are but a few serious booksthat deserve the high but ungram-matical accolade, “unputdownable.”Black Hawk Down does.

64 Special Warfare

Book ReviewsSpecial Warfare

The book describes Task ForceRanger’s bloody fight in Mogadishuin October 1993. The story is told infull, in chronological order, largelyfrom the viewpoint of and in thewords of the Ranger participants.The series of incidents by which aquick prisoner-snatch raid became aseries of desperate street battlesstretching almost a full day isrecounted in detail. Each eventpresages unforeseeable but seeming-ly inevitable effects. Each effect leadsto greater delays, more enemies,more combat and additional deaths.

The first incident, a Ranger seri-ously injured in a rappelling fallwho required immediate evacua-tion, mildly disrupted the with-drawal plan. The shooting-down ofthe first helicopter caused a majordisruption, requiring the groundforce to alter its withdrawal plan inorder to recover the helicoptercrew. A second downed helicopterimposed greater dispersion of theground force. It also added furtherdelays. And the longer the forceremained on the ground, the longerthe armed Somali tribesmen had tostrike back at the Rangers.

The story that Mark Bowdenrelates could also be told by a Greektragedian or by a cultural anthropol-ogist.The tragedian would tell it as astory of peoples doomed by sometransgression. The anthropologistwould explain how each contestantwas a prisoner of his own culture: theSomalis fighting for their tribe; theRangers performing their assignedmission in a foreign environmentand being led inexorably into a muchdeeper hazard by their warrior cul-ture’s demand that they stand by thedowned helicopter crews. Therewould be more than a modicum oftruth in each of these treatments.

Bowden, however, presents ahumanistic story of combat as expe-rienced by the participants. There islittle account of the actions andviews of headquarters here.Although TF Ranger contained dis-parate elements of the Army and

other services, this is overwhelm-ingly the story of young Rangerriflemen and machine gunners in along, bitter, no-quarter street fightagainst Somali fighters with AK-47s and rocket-propelled grenades.

Glory disappeared from war earlyin this century when people becameaware of war’s realities. Even honorand respect are almost unknown inthe gritty Third World brawls ofmodern warfare. Neither side, how-ever, need have any embarrassmentover this fight. The various elementsof the Ranger task force foughtagainst overwhelming numbers.Only discipline, training, tenacity,firepower and individual couragepermitted their survival. The Soma-lis fought against not only theRanger task force but also the 20th-century military technology of vehi-cles, communications and armedhelicopters. Although probably nei-ther side was satisfied with the bat-tle’s ending, both achieved theirends: the Ranger task force accom-plished its tactical goal and keptfaith with its comrades; the Somalisdefended their tribe and their turf.

The story is so well told that itcomes as a surprise that Bowdenclaims no military background. Hisdescriptions show an appreciation of

minor things that would seem to callfor military experience: the confu-sion of combat, an individual’s fear offailure before his first fight, theinanity of recovering a “valuable”rappelling rope under fire, and thevalue of the cover provided by asmall bump in a road. The reviewer,who grew up in an army where call-ing soldiers “boys” was at least amortal sin, was irritated by thedescription of some of the Americantroops as “D boys,” but the authordefends this as common Ranger jar-gon. This criticism is admittedly aminor objection to an otherwise out-standing description of the Rangers’travail.

There is much to learn from thisaccount: conventional lessons of tac-tics, weapons and command; sur-prising lessons in psychologicaloperations; and lessons concerningcomplex political environments andcoalitions of widely disparate forces.If Bowden’s subtitle is correct, and ifMogadishu is indeed the pattern of“modern war,” then there are somedeep and hard lessons there. One ofthe most salient is that even themost modern technology cannotmeet all requirements or guaranteesuccess. Perhaps Black Hawk Downwill be read by some of the officialswho send soldiers to do tough jobsin nasty places — and possibly evenby some of those who continuallybeat the drum for putting women infront-line combat. It would be well ifthese groups would think deeplyabout their goals, the probableeffects, and their responsibilities.

Black Hawk Down is stronglyrecommended to all special opera-tors, irrespective of their grade,unit, skill or specialty.

COL J. H. CrerarU.S. Army (ret.)Vienna, Va.

Fall 1999 65

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