A military force that is surprised is severely disrupted, and its fighting capability is severely degraded. Surprise is usually achieved by the side that has the initiative, and that is attacking. However, it can be achieved by a defending force. The most common example of defensive surprise is the ambush.
Perhaps the best example of surprise achieved by a defender was that which Hannibal gained over the Romans at the Battle of Cannae, 216 BC, in which the Romans were surprised by the unexpected defensive maneuver of the Carthaginians. This permitted the outnumbered force, aided by the multiplying effect of surprise, to achieve a double envelopment of their numerically stronger force.
It has been hypothesized, and the hypothesis rather conclusively substantiated, that surprise can be quantified in terms of the enhanced mobility (quantifiable) which surprise provides to the surprising force, by the reduced vulnerability (quantifiable) of the surpriser, and the increased vulnerability (quantifiable) of the side that is surprised.
When men believe that their chances of survival in a combat situation become less than some value (which is probably quantifiable, and is unquestionably related to a strength ratio or a power ratio), they cannot and will not advance. They take cover so as to obtain some protection, and by so doing they redress the strength or power imbalance. A force with strength y (a strength less than opponent’s strength x) has its strength multiplied by the effect of defensive posture (let’s give it the symbol p) to a greater power value, so that power py approaches, equals, or exceeds x, the unenhanced power value of the force with the greater strength x. It was because of this that [Carl von] Clausewitz–who considered that battle outcome was the result of a mathematical equation[1]–wrote that “defense is a stronger form of fighting than attack.”[2] There is no question that he considered that defensive posture was a combat multiplier in this equation. It is obvious that the phenomenon of the strengthening effect of defensive posture is a combination of physical and human factors.
Dupuy elaborated on his understanding of Clausewitz’s comparison of the impact of the defensive and offensive posture in combat in his book Understanding War.
The statement [that the defensive is the stronger form of combat] implies a comparison of relative strength. It is essentially scalar and thus ultimately quantitative. Clausewitz did not attempt to define the scale of his comparison. However, by following his conceptual approach it is possible to establish quantities for this comparison. Depending upon the extent to which the defender has had the time and capability to prepare for defensive combat, and depending also upon such considerations as the nature of the terrain which he is able to utilize for defense, my research tells me that the comparative strength of defense to offense can range from a factor with a minimum value of about 1.3 to maximum value of more than 3.0.[3]
NOTES
[1] Dupuy believed Clausewitz articulated a fundamental law for combat theory, which Dupuy termed the “Law of Numbers.” One should bear in mind this concept of a theory of combat is something different than a fundamental law of war or warfare. Dupuy’s interpretation of Clausewitz’s work can be found in Understanding War: History and Theory of Combat (New York: Paragon House, 1987), 21-30.
While this relationship might appear primarily technological in nature, Dupuy considered it the result of the human factor of fear on the battlefield. He put it in more human terms in a symposium paper from 1989:
There is one basic reason for the dispersal of troops on modern battlefields: to mitigate the lethal effects of firepower upon troops. As Lewis Richardson wrote in The Statistics of Deadly Quarrels, there is a limit to the amount of punishment human beings can sustain. Dispersion was resorted to as a tactical response to firepower mostly because—as weapons became more lethal in the 17th Century—soldiers were already beginning to disperse without official sanction. This was because they sensed that on the bloody battlefields of that century they were approaching the limit of the punishment men can stand.
There is a lot of smart writing being published over at The Strategy Bridge. If you don’t follow it, you should. Among the recent offerings is a very good piece by Erik Heftye, a retired Air Force officer and senior military analyst in the U.S. Army’s Mission Command Battle Laboratory at Fort Leavenworth. His article “Multi-Domain Confusion: All Domains Are Not Created Equal,” takes a look at an au courant topic central to the new concept of Multi-Domain Battle (MDB).
Defense grognardshave been grumbling that MDB is just a new term for an old concept. This is true, insofar as it goes. I am not sure this is in dispute. After all, the subtitle of the U.S. Army/U.S. Marine Corps MDB white paper is “Combined Arms For The 21st Century.” However, such comments do raise the issue of whether new terms for old concepts are serving to clarify or cloud current understanding.
This is Heftye’s concern regarding the use of the term domain: “An ambiguous categorization of separate operating domains in warfare could actually pose an intractable conceptual threat to an integrated joint force, which is ironically the stated purpose of multi-domain battle.” Noting the vagueness of the concept, Heftye traces how the term entered into U.S. military doctrine in the 1990s and evolved into the current four physical (land, sea, air, and space) and one virtual (cyberspace) warfighting realms. He then discusses the etymology of the word and how its meanings imply that all of the domains are equivalent in nature and importance. While this makes sense for air, sea, and land, the physical aspects of those domains do not translate to space or cyberspace. He argues that treating them all analogously will inevitably lead to conceptual confusion.
Heftye recommends a solution: “In order to minimize the problem of domain equivalence, a revised construct should distinguish different types of domains in relation to relevant and advantageous warfighting effects. Focusing on effects rather than domains would allow for the elimination of unnecessary bureaucratic seams, gaps, and turf wars.” He offers up a simplified variation of the domain construct that had been published in the superseded 2005 edition of the Joint Chiefs of Staff’s Capstone Concept for Joint Operations, which defined a domain as “any potential operating ‘space’ through which the target system can be influenced—not only the domains of land, sea, air, and space, but also the virtual (information and cyber) and human (cognitive, moral, and social) domains.”
This version not only simplifies by cutting the five existing categories to three, but it also groups like with like. “Land, sea, air, and space are physical domains involving material reality. Cyberspace and information, as well as the electromagnetic spectrum are virtual domains involving sensing and perception. The construct also included a human category involving value judgements.” Heftye acknowledges that looking at domains in terms of effects runs contrary to then-Joint Forces Commander General (and current Defense Secretary) James Mattis’s ban on the use of the Effects Based Operations (EBO) concept by the U.S. military 2008. He also points out that the concept of domains will not be going away anytime soon, either.
Of course, conceptual confusion is not a unique problem in U.S. military doctrine argues Steve Leonard in “Broken and Unreadable: Our Unbearable Aversion to Doctrine,” over at the Modern War Institute at West Point (which is also publishing great material these days). Leonard (aka Doctrine Man!!), a former U.S. Army senior strategist, ruminates about dissatisfaction and discontent with the American “rules of the game.” He offers up a personal anecdote about a popular military staff pastime: defining doctrinal terms.
We also tend to over-define our terminology. Words in common usage since the days of Noah Webster can find new life—and new meaning—in Army doctrine. Several years ago, I endured an hours-long argument among a group of doctrine writers trying to define the term “asymmetric.” The suggestion—after three full hours of debate—that the group consult a dictionary was not well-received.
I have no doubt Erik Heftye feels your pain, Doctrine Man.
The American RAND staff and Vietnamese interviewers on the front porch of the villa on Rue Pasteur. Courtesy of Hanh Easterbrook. [Revisionist History]
Although this blog focuses on quantitative historical analysis, it is probably a good idea to consider from time to time that the analysis is being done by human beings. As objective as analysts try to be about the subjects they study, they cannot avoid interpreting what they see through the lenses of their own personal biases, experiences, and perspectives. This is not a bad thing, as each analyst can bring something new to the process and find things that other perhaps cannot.
The U.S. experience in Vietnam offers a number of examples of this. Recently, journalist and writer Malcolm Gladwell presented a podcast exploring an effort by the RAND Corporation initiated in the early 1960s to interview and assess the morale of captured Viet Cong fighters and defectors. His story centers on two RAND analysts, Leon Gouré and Konrad Kellen, and one of their Vietnamese interpreters, Mai Elliott. The podcast traces the origins and history of the project, how Gouré, Kellen, and Elliott brought very different perspectives to their work, and how they developed differing interpretations of the evidence they collected. Despite the relevance of the subject and the influence the research had on decision-making at high levels, the study ended inconclusively and ambivalently for all involved. (Elliott would go on to write an account of RAND’s activities in Southeast Asia and several other books.)
Gladwell presents an interesting human story as well as some insight into the human element of social science analysis. It is a unique take on one aspect of the Vietnam War and definitely worth the time to listen to. The podcast is part of his Revisionist History series.
Office of Medical History, U.S. Army Medical Department
Trevor N. Dupuy developed some hypotheses about casualty rates in combat in the process of quantifying the effects of surprise and relative combat effectiveness.[1] After testing these hypotheses against historical combat data, Col. Dupuy believed them valid enough to be considered verities. His confidence in them ranged from absolute for most to reasonable certainty for a few. The first two points are statements of combat experience, but they are directly relevant to the nature of battle attrition. As with his verities of combat, these will be discussed in more detail in subsequent posts.
Personnel Attrition Verities
In the average battle, the attack’s numerical strength is about double the defender’s.
In the average modern battle the attacker is more often successful than the defender.
Casualty rates of winners are lower than those of losers.
Small forces casualty rates are higher than those of large forces.
More effective forces inflict casualties at a higher rate than less effective opponents.
There is no direct relationship between force ratios and casualty rates.
In most modern battles, the numerical losses of attacker and defender are often similar.
Casualty rates for defenders vary inversely with strength of fortifications.
Casualty rates of a surprising force are lower than those of a surprised force.
In the average modern battle, attacker casualty rates are somewhat lower than defender casualty rates.
In bad weather, casualty rates for both sides decline markedly.
In difficult terrain, casualty rates for both sides decline markedly.
The casualty-inflicting capability of a force declines after each successive day in combat.
Casualty rates are lower at night than in daytime.
Casualty rates are higher in summer than in winter.
The faster the front line moves, the lower the casualty rates for both sides.
Casualty rates seem to decline during river crossings.
An “all-out” effort by one side raises loss rates for both sides.
A force with greater overall combat power inflicts casualties at a greater rate than the opponent.
The killed-to-wounded distribution of personnel casualties in twentieth century warfare is consistent.
Average World War II division engagement casualty rates in Western Europe were 1% to 3% per day.
Attrition rates in the 1973 October War were comparable to World War II.
Casualty rates for major power forces in minor hostilities after 1945 are about half those experienced in World War II.
Material Attrition Verities
Material loss rates are related to personnel casualty rates.
Tank loss rates are five to seven times higher than personnel casualty rates.
Attacker tank loss rates are generally higher than defender tank loss rates.
Artillery material loss rates are generally about one-tenth personnel casualty rates.
Self-propelled artillery loss rates are two-to-three times greater than for towed guns.
The loss rates of light, to medium, to heavy artillery weapons are in the proportion: 2.2/1.8/1.0.
James Jay Carafano, historian and Vice President for Foreign and Defense Policy at the Heritage Foundation, recently issued a call for the U.S. defense community to back off debates over “the latest doctrinal flavor of the month” and return to a focus on the classic principles of war. “Most modern military doctrine should be scrapped,” Carafano wrote. “The Pentagon would be far better served if our military thinkers got back to the basics and taught the principles of war—and little more.”
The principles of war are a list of basic concepts of warfare distilled from the writings of mostly Western military leaders and theorists that had become commonly accepted by the late 18th century, more or less. They vary in number depending on who’s list is consulted, but U.S. Army doctrine currently recognizes nine: Objective, Offensive, Mass, Economy of Force, Maneuver, Unity of Command, Security, Surprise, and Simplicity.
In 1987, Trevor N. Dupuy published what he termed “the timeless verities of combat.” These were a list of thirteen “unchanging operational features or concepts” based upon his previous twenty-five years of empirical research into a fundamental aspect of warfare, the nature of combat. He did not intend for these verities to substitute for the principles of war, but did believe that they were related to them. Dupuy asserted that the verities “describe certain fundamental and important aspects of warfare, which, despite constant changes in the implements of war, are almost unchanging because of war’s human component.”[1]
Radio broadcast, 1943. Copyprint. Bob Hope Collection, Motion Picture, Broadcasting and Recorded Sound Division, Library of Congress (150)
My colleague Chris Lawrence has taken me to task with regard to my last post on the topic of morale. I asserted that Trevor Dupuy’s claim that human factors influenced the outcome of combat was controversial. Chris pointed out that it was, in fact, Col Dupuy’s claims that 1) human factors in combat could be measured and quantified; and 2) that quantified human factors should be incorporated into combat models, that were really the sources of controversy.
Chris is indisputably correct about that. In my defense, I chose the wording I used in my post deliberately to weasel around an apparently problematic contradiction. While Col Dupuy did indeed believe that human factors in combat could be quantified, he was dubious about the prospect of individually quantifying some of those specific factors, including morale. Since my post was primarily about Dr. Fennell’s work on morale, I side-stepped that issue. Well, today I am going to wade on in.
Col Dupuy first addressed the quantification of human factors in combat in his book Numbers, Predictions & War, published in 1979. His original combat model, the Quantified Judgment Model (QJM), incorporated 73 different variable elements and parameters, including 11 he defined as intangible. By intangible, he meant variables “which are – at least for the present – impossible to quantify with confidence, either because they are essentially qualitative in nature, or because for some other reason they currently defy precise delineation or measurement.”[1] He also believed that “some (such as logistics) may lend themselves to assessment indirectly through the measurement of their effects.”[2]
He divided those intangible variables into three categories[3]:
Sometimes calculable
Probably calculable; not yet calculated
Intangible; probably individually incalculable
Combat effectiveness
Logistics
Leadership
Training/experience
Initiative
Morale
Time
Space
Momentum
Intelligence
Technology
With regard to leadership, training, and morale, Col Dupuy asserted that
These subjective qualities are almost impossible to assess in absolute terms with complete objectivity. However, the relative capabilities of the opposing leaders in terms of skill, nerve, and determination can probably have more influence on the outcome of a battle than any of the other qualitative variables of combat— if there is a substantial difference in the qualities of leadership of the opposing sides. The same is true, probably to a somewhat lesser extent, if there are substantial differences in the state of training or of combat experience of the two sides, and if there are great differences in their respective states of morale. Accordingly, where solid historical information warrants, these three variables can be given mathematical weights, either individually, or in relationship with the other elements of combat effectiveness, on the basis of professional military judgment, but (under the present “state of the art”) this weighting process is bound to be highly subjective.[4]
Col Dupuy included morale as an independent variable in the QJM’s combat power formula and offered a table of suggested values [5]. However, he did not explain in any detail how to assess morale or apply it in the QJM.
As I quoted in my last post, as of 1987, Col Dupuy continued to contend ambivalently that “even though it may not be easily defined and can probably never be quantified, troop morale is very real and can be very important as a contributor to victory or defeat.” He never resolved this seeming contradiction in his writings, but as with several of the intangible variables he identified, he did acknowledge the potential for defining and quantifying some of them. Dr. Fennell’s demonstration of a strong correlation between morale level and rates of sickness, battle exhaustion, desertion, absence without leave and self-inflicted wounds suggests, at least in the British Second Army in northwest Europe in 1944-45, a potential methodology for quantifying morale which could allow its impact to be measured indirectly in much the same manner Col Dupuy measured combat effectiveness. Whether or not the notion of doing so remains controversial will be interesting to see.
Figure One: Second Army, Weekly Admissions per 1,000 to General Hospitals and Casualty Clearing Stations for Sickness, Battle Exhaustion and SIW, 11 June 1944 to 5 May 1945. Morale scale equivalents are presented on the right hand Y-axis. (Dr. Jonathan Fennell)
One of Trevor Dupuy’s more important and controversial contributions to a theory of combat was the assertion that outcomes were dictated in part by behavioral factors, i.e. the human element. Among the influential human factors he identified were leadership, training, experience, and manpower quality. He also recognized the importance of morale.
Morale is an ephemeral quality of military forces and is certainly intangible. Yet even though it may not be easily defined and can probably never be quantified, troop morale is very real and can be very important as a contributor to victory or defeat. The significance of morale is probably inversely proportional to the quality of troops. A well-trained, well-led, cohesive force of veterans will fight well and effectively even if morale is low… Yet for ordinary armies, poor morale can contribute to defeat.[1]
Dr. Jonathan Fennell of the Defence Studies Department at King’s College London recently set out to determine if there were ways of measuring morale by looking at the combat experiences of the British Army in World War II. Fennell proposed
that the concept of morale has no place in a critical analysis of the past unless it is clearly differentiated from definitions associated solely or primarily with mood or cohesion and the group. Instead, for morale to have explanatory value, particularly in a combat environment, a functional conceptualisation is proposed, which, while not excluding the role of mood or group cohesion, focuses its meaning and relevance on motivation and the willingness to act in a manner required by an authority or institution.
By drawing on studies made across the social sciences and on primary archival evidence from the British and Commonwealth Army’s experiences in North Africa in the Second World War… It suggests that morale can best be understood as emerging from the subtle interdependencies and interrelationships of the many factors known to affect military means.
Fennell tested his methodology by developing a weekly morale score using bi-weekly censorship summaries of letters and correspondence from members of the British Second Army in the Northwest Europe Campaign in 1944-45.
These summaries proved a useful source to describe and ‘quantify’ levels of morale (through the use of a numerical morale scale). Where morale was described as ‘excellent’, it was awarded a score of 3. ‘High’ morale was given a score of 2 and ‘good’ morale was scored 1. ‘Satisfactory’ morale was given a score of 0 (neither positive or negative). Morale described as ‘severely tried’ was scored -1, while ‘low’ and ‘very low’ morale were scored -2 and -3 respectively.
He then correlated these scores with weekly statistics compiled by the British Second Army and 21st Army Group on rates of sickness, battle exhaustion, desertion, absence without leave (AWOL) and self-inflicted wounds (SIW).
The results of the correlation analysis showed that the tabulated rates (the combined rate of sickness, battle exhaustion, desertion, AWOL and SIW) had an extremely strong negative correlation with morale (-0.949, P<0.001), i.e. when morale was high, sickness rates etc. were low, and when morale was low, sickness rates etc. were high. This is a remarkably strong relationship and shows that these factors when taken together can be used as a quantitative method to assess levels of morale, at the very least for the Army and campaign under discussion.
The results are shown on the graph above. According to Fennell,
This analysis of morale supports the conclusions of much of the recent historiography on the British Army in Northwest Europe; morale was a necessary component of combat effectiveness (morale in Second Army was broadly speaking high throughout the victorious campaign); however, morale was not a sufficient explanation for Second Army’s successes and failures on the battlefield. For example, morale would appear to have been at its highest before and during Operation ‘Market Garden’. But ‘Market Garden’ was a failure. It is likely, as John Buckley has argued, that ‘Market Garden’ was a conceptual failure rather than a morale one. Morale would also appear to have been mostly high during operations in the Low Countries and Germany, but these operations were beset with setbacks and delays.
Fennell further explored the relationship between morale and combat performance, and combat performance and strategy, in his contribution to Anthony King, ed., Frontline:Combat and Cohesion in the Twenty-First Century (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2015). An earlier version of his chapter can be found here.
