Bullets
and Beans (Part One)
In 1940, the French surrendered to the
Germans, giving the Nazi control of the French colonies of Syria and
Lebanon. The poison spread quickly
through the region including some very deep roots into neighboring Iraq. A localize version of the Nazi and Fascist
parties was founded, one which continued to operate beyond the fall of the
Third Reich—the Baath Party, the same Baath Party that exists today.
Amidst all the personal agendas and private biases,
history and common sense seem to have been among the first intellectual
casualties of the war. With pundits
trying to steer military strategy, it seems a time to put some perspective on
the obvious.
Each force in an army exerts a zone of
influence. This area is not the
territory it controls but the area it affects.
Imagine you wish to travel from one end of a street to the other. If you are alone, only your own ability and
the physical layout of the street influences your progress. If I am also on this street and wish to
prevent you from reaching your goal, I can only affect a small portion of your
trek. By myself, I can affect only a
few feet around me. As you approach, we
would begin movements to intervene and evade when we are still yards
apart. This is a simplified example of
a zone of influence. We are able to
affect each other when we are in proximity but not specifically engaged. Once we are with each other’s zone of influence,
neither of us can move with impunity.
Add guns or other weapons to extend our range and it is easy to see how
we may both end up in a prolonged stand-off.
This is very common on the
battlefield. Minor adjustments can be
made, but once two forces enter each other’s zone of influence, both become
effectively pinned in place until one or both of the commanders are prepared to
either directly engage or risk counter-attack while moving out of range. Once a force has been pinned, its
maneuverability is restricted; if the force is overmatched, it is pragmatically
fixed in place on the battlefield.
Considering the risks and difficulties of moving against a positioned
force, less force is needed to fix an army than to engage it. Fixing a defensive army with a smaller,
better provisioned force is a tactic as old as war itself. It is the underlying premise of siege
warfare.
If I were to lead a powerful invading
force, I would face a key decision when I encountered the first enemy
entrenchment, or hard point. I could
engage the point directly, but due to the enemy’s preparations and preferential
positioning, I would suffer disproportionate casualties. Anyone familiar with the medieval analogy of
charging a castle can see the disadvantages of this approach.
My second option would be to besiege
the fortifications in the traditional manner:
cut them off from resupply and harry them at range until they are
sufficiently degraded to engage them directly.
Against an enemy with multiple mobile forces, this tactic is a two-edged
sword. The enemy could move forward
from other positions and bring an attack on my stationary flanks, pinning me
between his two forces. By
concentrating on this single point, I make myself vulnerable and lose one of my
own best advantages, maneuverability.
Remember it takes less force to fix
than conquer. A better option is to
leave a portion of my force behind to form a siege ring. My primary force can then proceed forward to
the next hard point. My greatest
concern with this maneuver is speed. I
must fix the enemy before he can muster a counter-attack against my ringing
forces. Once I have fixed the enemy
armies so that they cannot move with impunity, I can rest and resupply my
primary force and I will have significantly more control over the coming
engagements. I do not need to besiege
my enemy’s primary force; I need just to affect its movements and act
accordingly.
The limiting factor of ‘ring and
bypass’ is the supply line. The attack
force must over-extend, temporarily sacrificing supply for speed. The more resilient and pre-provisioned the
troops are, the further they can extend.
The supply lines are placed in motion immediately behind the primary
force and will catch up before the enemy can recover. It is a kind of military running start.
The tactic assumes that the supply
caravans will be vulnerable and must be prepared to defend themselves against
light attack. Guerrilla strikes on
supply lines are an anticipated part of the strategy. Only major pockets of enemy resistance are ringed; small mobile
clusters of resistance are left free.
These small units comprise no significant threat to either the main
force or the smaller ringing forces and they would be dangerously
time-consuming to root out. Instead,
the supply convoys travel armed and prepared for ambush, letting these pockets
of opposition draw themselves out of hiding to impale themselves on the armed
convoys.
The addition of air superiority to the
equation exacerbates the plight of the defender. Air power can harry strong points and pinned enemy troops, bypass
the enemy and reprovision the invading forces directly, protect and support the
supply caravans, and overwatch and intercept the enemy if he attempts to
maneuver away from a fixed position.
The logistics (both in planning and
execution) of such an ambitious assault are astoundingly complex but the tactic
is effective, as Patton demonstrated in his rush to Berlin during WWII. The greatest danger in such aggressive
tactics is that they are unforgiving.
If the enemy should break free, considerable damage can be done before
sufficient force can be brought to bear.
It is also the best way to defeat an overmatched foe and the fastest way
to win a war because the aggressor strikes deliberately and directly at the
enemy’s ‘center of gravity’.
Discerning the enemy’s center of gravity
is an art in itself and the definition of what entails that center changes
situationally. There is the misleading
assumption that the center is synonymous with the enemy’s command or main
force. The center varies based on the
intent of the combatants and, as technology has developed, may exist partially
outside of solely military considerations.
In each campaign, there is one key
element that, when it is removed or defeated, the remainder of the force will
collapse or lose its ability to fight effectively. Von Clauswitz defined it as the hub that everything revolves
around. The center may be a person, a
specific force, or even a symbol such as a location.
A comparison to the human body is useful, with the
head, heart, and back representing various types of centers. The head may be cut off: the removal of a leader, leaders, or the
ability to lead by destroying the center of command. The back may be broken:
the defeat of the enemy’s primary force, usually a large and elite
corps. The heart may be wrenched: capturing or destroying a key symbolic
person or place that breaks morale.
What these centers translate into on the field, which are relevant, and
whether there are multiple centers are all delicate situational questions. The medieval King epitomizes the military
center of gravity. During the American
was of Northern Aggression, Lee’s army was a center for the Confederate
cause. Hitler considered Paris a
symbolic center of the French. In WWII,
Japan felt Pearl Harbor was a center for the Pacific Theatre.
In the current war with Iraq, discernment has been
made easy—Baghdad is the center of command, communication, and force
concentration.