The Prussian military philosopher Carl von Clausewitz identified the concept of friction in warfare in his book On War, published in 1832.
Everything in war is very simple, but the simplest thing is difficult. The difficulties accumulate and end by producing a kind of friction that is inconceivable unless one has experienced war… Countless minor incidents—the kind you can never really foresee—combine to lower the general level of performance, so that one always falls far short of the intended goal… Friction is the only concept that more or less corresponds to the factors that distinguish real war from war on paper… None of [the military machine’s] components is of one piece: each part is composed of individuals, every one of whom retains his potential of friction [and] the least important of whom may chance to delay things or somehow make them go wrong…
While recognizing this hugely significant intangible element, Clausewitz also asserted that “[F]riction…brings about effects that cannot be measured, just they are largely due to chance.” Nevertheless, the clearly self-evident nature of friction in warfare subsequently led to the assimilation of the concept into the thinking of most military theorists and practitioners.
Flash forward 140 years or so. While listening to a lecture on combat simulation, Trevor Dupuy had a flash of insight that led him to conclude that it was indeed possible to measure the effects of friction.[1] Based on his work with historical combat data, Dupuy knew that smaller-sized combat forces suffer higher casualty rates than do larger-sized forces. As the diagram at the top demonstrates, this is partly explained by the fact that small units have a much higher proportion of their front line troops exposed to hostile fire than large units.
However, this relationship can account for only a fraction of friction’s total effect. The average exposure of a company of 200 soldiers is about seven times greater than an army group of 100,000. Yet, casualty rates for a company in intensive combat can be up to 70 times greater than that of an army group. This discrepancy clearly shows the influence of another factor at work.
Dupuy hypothesized that this reflected the apparent influence of the relationship between dispersion, deployment, and friction on combat. As friction in combat accumulates through the aggregation of soldiers into larger-sized units, its effects degrade the lethal effects of weapons from their theoretical maximum. Dupuy calculated that friction affects a force of 100,000 ten times more than it does a unit of 200. Being an ambient, human factor on the battlefield, higher quality forces do a better job of managing friction’s effects than do lower quality ones.
After looking at World War II combat casualty data to calculate the effect of friction on combat, Dupuy looked at casualty rates from earlier eras and found a steady correlation, which he believed further validated his hypothesis.
Despite the consistent fit of the data, Dupuy felt that his work was only the beginning of a proper investigation into the phenomenon.
During the periods of actual combat, the lower the level, the closer the loss rates will approach the theoretical lethalities of the weapons in the hands of the opposing combatants. But there will never be a very close relationship of such rates with the theoretical lethalities. War does not consist merely of a number of duels. Duels, in fact, are only a very small—though integral—part of combat. Combat is a complex process involving interaction over time of many men and numerous weapons combined in a great number of different, and differently organized, units. This process cannot be understood completely by considering the theoretical interactions of individual men and weapons. Complete understanding requires knowing how to structure such interactions and fit them together. Learning how to structure these interactions must be based on scientific analysis of real combat data.
In an article published by the Association of the U.S. Army last November that I missed on the first go around, U.S. Army Colonel Eric E. Aslakson and Lieutenant Colonel Richard T. Brown, (ret.) make the argument that “Staff colonels are the Army’s innovation center of gravity.”
The U.S. defense community has settled upon innovation as one of the key methods for overcoming the challenges posed by new technologies and strategies adapted by potential adversaries, as articulated in the Third Offset Strategy developed by the late Obama administration. It is becoming clear however, that a desire to innovate is not the same as actual innovation. Aslakson and Brown make the point that innovation is not simply technological development and identify what they believe is a crucial institutional component of military innovation in the U.S. Army.
Innovation is differentiated from other forms of change such as improvisation and adaptation by the scale, scope and impact of that value creation. Innovation is not about a new widget or process, but the decisive value created and the competitive advantage gained when that new widget or process is applied throughout the Army or joint force…
However, none of these inventions or activities can rise to the level of innovation unless there are skilled professionals within the Army who can convert these ideas into competitive advantage across the enterprise. That is the role of a colonel serving in a major command staff leadership assignment…
These leaders do not typically create the change. But they have the necessary institutional and operational expertise and experience, contacts, resources and risk tolerance to manage processes across the entire framework of doctrine, organization, training, materiel, leadership and education, personnel and facilities, converting invention into competitive advantage.
In his seminal book, The Evolution of Weapons and Warfare (Indianapolis, IN: The Bobbs-Merrill Company, Inc., 1980), Trevor Dupuy noted a pattern in the historical relationship between development of weapons of increasing lethality and their incorporation in warfare. He too noted that the crucial factor was not the technology itself, but the organizational approach to using it.
When a radically new weapon appears and is first adopted, it is inherently incongruous with existing weapons and doctrine. This is reflected in a number of ways; uncertainty and hesitation in coordination of the new weapon with earlier ones; inability to use it consistently, effectively, and flexibly in offensive action, which often leads to tactical stalemate; vulnerability of the weapon and of its users to hostile countermeasures; heavy losses incident to the employment of the new weapon, or in attempting to oppose it in combat. From this it is possible to establish the following criteria of assimilation:
Confident employment of the weapon in accordance with a doctrine that assures its coordination with other weapons in a manner compatible with the characteristics of each.
Consistently effective, flexible use of the weapon in offensive warfare, permitting full employment of the advantages of superior leadership and/or superior resources.
Capability of dealing effectively with anticipated and unanticipated countermeasures.
Sharp decline in casualties for those employing the weapon, often combined with a capability for inflicting disproportionately heavy losses on the enemy.
Based on his assessment of this historical pattern, Dupuy derived a set of preconditions necessary for a successful assimilation of new technology into warfare.
An imaginative, knowledgeable leadership focused on military affairs, supported by extensive knowledge of, and competence in, the nature and background of the existing military system.
Effective coordination of the nation’s economic, technological-scientific, and military resources.
There must exist industrial or developmental research institutions, basic research institutions, military staffs and their supporting institutions, together with administrative arrangements for linking these with one another and with top decision-making echelons of government.
These bodies must conduct their research, developmental, and testing activities according to mutually familiar methods so that their personnel can communicate, can be mutually supporting, and can evaluate each other’s results.
The efforts of these institutions—in related matters—must be directed toward a common goal.
Opportunity for battlefield experimentation as a basis for evaluation and analysis.
Does the U.S. defense establishment’s organizational and institutional approach to innovation meet these preconditions? Good question.
Tom Lea, “The 2,000 Yard Stare” 1944 [Oil on canvas, 36 x 28 Life Collection of Art WWII, U.S. Army Center of Military History, Fort Belvoir, Virginia]
That idea that fatigue is a human factor in combat seems relatively uncontroversial. Military history is replete with examples of how the limits of human physical and mental endurance have affected the character of fighting and the outcome of battles. Perhaps the most salient aspect of military training is preparing soldiers to deal with the rigors of warfare.
Trevor Dupuy was aware that fatigue has a degrading effect on the effectiveness of troops in combat, but he never was able to study the topic specifically himself. He was aware of other examinations of historical experience that were relevant to the issue.
An approximate value for the daily effect of fatigue upon the effectiveness of weapons employment emerged from a HERO study several years ago. There is no question that fatigue has a comparable degrading effect upon the ability of a force to advance. I know of no research to ascertain that effect. Until such research is performed, I have arbitrarily assumed that the degrading effect of fatigue upon advance rates is the same as its degrading effect upon weapons effectiveness. To those who might be shocked at such an assumption, my response is: We know there is an effect; it is better to use a crude approximation of that effect than to ignore it…
During World War II when Colonel S.L.A. Marshall was the Chief Historian of the US European Theater of Operations, he undertook a number of interviews of units just after they had been in combat. After the war, in his book Men Against Fire, Marshall asserted that his interviews revealed that only 15% of US infantry soldiers fired their small arms weapons in combat. This revelation created something of a sensation at the time.
It has since been demonstrated that Marshall did not really have solid, scientific data for his assertion. But those who criticize Marshall for unscholarly, unscientific work should realize that in private life he was an exceptionally good newspaper reporter. His conclusions, based upon his observations, may have been largely intuitive, but I am convinced that they were generally, if not specifically, sound…
One of the few examples of the use of military history in the West in recent years was an important study done at the British Defence Operational Analysis Establishment (DOAE) by David Rowland. An unclassified condensation of that study was published in the June 1986 issue of the Journal of the Royal United Services Institution (RUSI). The article, “Assessments of Combat Degradation,” demonstrates conclusively that, in historical combat, small arms weapons have had only one-seventh to one-tenth of their theoretical effectiveness. Rowland does not attempt to say why this is so, but it is interesting that his value of one-seventh is very close to the S. L. A. Marshall 15% figure. Both values translate into casualty effects very similar to those that have emerged from my own research.
The intent of this post is not to rehash the debate on Marshall. As Dupuy noted above, even if Marshall’s conclusions were not based on empirical evidence, his observations on combat were nevertheless on to something important. (Details on the Marshall debate can be easily found with a Google search. A brief discussion took place on the old TDI Forum in 2007.)
The exhaustion factor (ex) of a fresh unit is 1.0; this is the maximum ex value.
At the conclusion of an engagement, a new ex factor will be calculated for each side.
A unit in normal offensive or defensive combat has its ex factor reduced by .05 for each consecutive day of combat; the ex factor cannot be less than 0.5.
An attacking unit opposed by delaying tactics has its ex factor reduced by 0.05 per day.
A defending unit in delay posture neither loses nor gains in its ex factor.
A withdrawing unit, not seriously engaged, has its ex factor augmented at the rate of 0.05 per day.
An advancing unit in pursuit, and not seriously delayed, neither loses nor gains in its ex factor.
For a unit in reserve, or in non-active posture, an exhaustion factor of less than 1.0 is augmented at the rate of .1 per day.
When a unit in combat, or recently in combat, is reinforced by a unit at least half of its size (in numbers of men), it adopts the ex factor of the reinforcing unit or—if the ex factor of the reinforcing unit is the same or lower than that of the reinforced—both adopt an ex factor 0.1 higher than that of the reinforced unit at the time of reinforcement, save that an ex factor cannot be greater than 1.0.
When a unit in combat, or recently in combat, is reinforced by a unit less than half its size, but not less than one quarter its size, augmentations or modifications of ex factors will be 0.5 times those provided for in paragraph 9, above. When the reinforcing unit is less than one-quarter the size of the reinforced unit, but not less than one-tenth its size, augmentations or modifications of ex factors will be 0.25 times those provided for in paragraph 9, above.
* Approximate reflection of preliminary QJM assessment of effects of casualty and fatigue, WWII engagements. These rates are for division or smaller size; for corps and larger units exhaustion rates are calculated for component divisions and smaller separate units.
EXAMPLES OF APPLICATION
A division in continuous offensive combat for five days stays in the line in inactive posture for two days, then resumes the offensive:
Combat exhaustion effect: 1 – (5 x .05) = 0.75;
Recuperation effect: 75 + (2 x .l) = 0.95.
A division in defensive posture for fifteen days is ordered to undertake a counterattack:
Combat exhaustion effect: 1 – (15 x .05) =0.25; this is below the minimum ex factor, which therefore applies: 0.5;
Recuperation effect: None; ex factor is 0.5.
A division in offensive posture for three days is reinforced by two fresh brigades:
Combat exhaustion effect: 1 – (3 x .05) = 0.85;
Reinforcement effect: Augmentation from 0.85 to 1.0.
A division in offensive posture for three days is reinforced by one fresh brigade:
Combat exhaustion effect: 1 – (3 x .05) = 0.85;
Reinforcement effect: 0.5 x augmentation from 0.85 to 1 = 0.93.
Battle of Spotsylvania by Thure de Thulstrup (1886) [Library of Congress]
Trevor Dupuy considered intensity to be another combat phenomena influenced by human factors. The variation in the intensity of combat is an aspect of battle that is widely acknowledged but little studied.
No one who has paid any attention at all to historical combat statistics can have failed to notice that some battles have been very bloody and hard-fought, while others—often under circumstances superficially similar—have reached a conclusion with relatively light casualties on one or both sides. I don’t believe that it is terribly important to find a quantitative reason for such differences, mainly because I don’t think there is any quantitative reason. The differences are usually due to such things as the general circumstances existing when the battles are fought, the personalities of the commanders, and the natures of the missions or objectives of one or both of the hostile forces, and the interactions of these personalities and missions.
From my standpoint the principal reason for trying to quantify the intensity of a battle is for purposes of comparative analysis. Just because casualties are relatively low on one or both sides does not necessarily mean that the battle was not intensive. And if the casualty rates are misinterpreted, then the analysis of the outcome can be distorted. For instance, a battle fought on a flat plain between two military forces will almost invariably have higher casualty rates for both sides than will a battle between those same two forces in mountainous terrain. A battle between those two forces in a heavy downpour, or in cold, wintry weather, will have lower casualties than when the forces are opposed to each other, under otherwise identical circumstances, in good weather. Casualty rates for small forces in a given set of circumstances are invariably higher than the rates for larger forces under otherwise identical circumstances.
If all of these things are taken into consideration, then it is possible to assess combat intensity fairly consistently. The formula I use is as follows:
CI = CR / (sz’ x rc x hc)
When: CI = Combat Intensity Measure
CR = Casualty rate in percent per day
sz’ = Square root of sz, a factor reflecting the effect of size upon casualty rates, derived from historical experience
rc = The effect of terrain on casualty rates, derived from historical experience
hc = The effect of weather on casualty rates, derived from historical experience
I then (somewhat arbitrarily) identify seven levels of intensity:
0.00 to 0.49 Very low intensity (1)
0.50 to 0.99 Low intensity (56)
1.00 to 1.99 Normal intensity (213)
2.00 to 2.99 High intensity (101)
3.00 to 3.99 Very high intensity (30)
4.00 to 5.00 Extremely high intensity (17)
Over 5.00 Catastrophic outcome (20)
The numbers in parentheses show the distribution of intensity on each side in 219 battles in DMSi’s QJM data base. The catastrophic battles include: the Russians in the Battles of Tannenberg and Gorlice Tarnow on the Eastern Front in World War I; the Russians on the first day of the Battle of Kursk in July 1943; a British defeat in Malaya in December, 1941; and 16 Japanese defeats on Okinawa. Each of these catastrophic instances, quantitatively identified, is consistent with a qualitative assessment of the outcome.
[UPDATE]
As Clinton Reilly pointed out in the comments, this works better when the equation variables are provided. These are from Trevor N. Dupuy, Attrition Forecasting Battle Casualties and Equipment Losses in Modern War (Fall Church, VA: NOVA Publications, 1995), pp. 146, 147, 149.
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.
[The] lack of strategic education has produced a United States military adrift. A cottage industry of shallow military thought attached itself to the Department of Defense like a parasite, selling “new” concepts that ranged from the specious (such as the RMA and effects-based operations), to the banal (like “hybrid” and “asymmetric” warfare), to the nonsensical (like 4th Generation Warfare and Gray Zone/Wars). An American officer corps, bereft of a solid understanding of strategic theory, seizes on concept after concept, seeking the next shiny silver bullet that it can fire to kill the specter of strategic disarray.
In general, and with only a few significant exceptions, until very recently American military theorists have shown little interest in the concept of a comprehensive theory or science of combat. While most Americans who think about such things are strong believers in the application of science to war, they seem not to believe, paradoxically, that waging war can be scientific, but that it is an art rather than a science. Even scientists concerned with and involved in military affairs, who perhaps overemphasize the role of science in war, also tend to believe that war is a random process conducted by unpredictable human beings, and thus not capable of being fitted into a scientific theoretical structure. [p. 51]
Like Friedman, Dupuy placed a good deal of the blame for this on the way U.S. military officers are instructed. He saw a distinct difference in the approach taken in the U.S. versus the way it was used by the (then) Soviet Union. In a 1989 conference paper, he contended that:
The United States Armed Forces pay lip service to the importance of military history. Officers are urged to read military history, but given little guidance on how military history can be really useful to them. The fundamental difference between the Soviet approach and the American approach, as I see it, is that the American officer is invited (but not really encouraged) to be a military history dilettante. The Soviets seriously study, and use military history. Figure 1 summarizes the differences in approaches of the U.S. and the Soviet armed forces to military history analysis.
Dupuy devoted an entire chapter of Understanding War to the Soviet scientific approach to the study and application of warfare. There was a time when the mention of Soviet/Russian military theory would have produced patronizing smirks from American commentators. In truth, Russian military theorizing has a long and robust tradition; much deeper than its American counterpart. Given the recent success Russia has had in leveraging its national security capabilities to influence favorable geopolitical outcomes, it might be that those theories are useful after all. One need not subscribe to the Soviet scientific approach to warfare to acknowledge the value of a scientific approach to studying warfare.
Soldiers with Battery C, 1st Battalion, 82nd Field Artillery Regiment, 1st Brigade Combat Team, 1st Cavalry Division maneuver their Paladins through Hohenfels Training Area, Oct. 26. Photo Credit: Capt. John Farmer, 1st Brigade Combat Team, 1st Cav
Last autumn, U.S. Army Chief of Staff General Mark Milley asserted that “we are on the cusp of a fundamental change in the character of warfare, and specifically ground warfare. It will be highly lethal, very highly lethal, unlike anything our Army has experienced, at least since World War II.” He made these comments while describing the Army’s evolving Multi-Domain Battle concept for waging future combat against peer or near-peer adversaries.
It is possible that ground combat attrition in the future between peer or near-peer combatants may be comparable to the U.S. experience in World War II (although there were considerable differences between the experiences of the various belligerents). Combat losses could be heavier. It certainly seems likely that they would be higher than those experienced by U.S. forces in recent counterinsurgency operations.
Dupuy documented a clear relationship over time between increasing weapon lethality, greater battlefield dispersion, and declining casualty rates in conventional combat. Even as weapons became more lethal, greater dispersal in frontage and depth among ground forces led daily personnel loss rates in battle to decrease.
The average daily battle casualty rate in combat has been declining since 1600 as a consequence. Since battlefield weapons continue to increase in lethality and troops continue to disperse in response, it seems logical to presume the trend in loss rates continues to decline, although this may not necessarily be the case. There were two instances in the 19th century where daily battle casualty rates increased—during the Napoleonic Wars and the American Civil War—before declining again. Dupuy noted that combat casualty rates in the 1973 Arab-Israeli War remained roughly the same as those in World War II (1939-45), almost thirty years earlier. Further research is needed to determine if average daily personnel loss rates have indeed continued to decrease into the 21st century.
Dupuy also discovered that, as with battle outcomes, casualty rates are influenced by the circumstantial variables of combat. Posture, weather, terrain, season, time of day, surprise, fatigue, level of fortification, and “all out” efforts affect loss rates. (The combat loss rates of armored vehicles, artillery, and other other weapons systems are directly related to personnel loss rates, and are affected by many of the same factors.) Consequently, yet counterintuitively, he could find no direct relationship between numerical force ratios and combat casualty rates. Combat power ratios which take into account the circumstances of combat do affect casualty rates; forces with greater combat power inflict higher rates of casualties than less powerful forces do.
Winning forces suffer lower rates of combat losses than losing forces do, whether attacking or defending. (It should be noted that there is a difference between combat loss rates and numbers of losses. Depending on the circumstances, Dupuy found that the numerical losses of the winning and losing forces may often be similar, even if the winner’s casualty rate is lower.)
Dupuy’s research confirmed the fact that the combat loss rates of smaller forces is higher than that of larger forces. This is in part due to the fact that smaller forces have a larger proportion of their troops exposed to enemy weapons; combat casualties tend to concentrated in the forward-deployed combat and combat support elements. Dupuy also surmised that Prussian military theorist Carl von Clausewitz’s concept of friction plays a role in this. The complexity of interactions between increasing numbers of troops and weapons simply diminishes the lethal effects of weapons systems on real world battlefields.
Somewhat unsurprisingly, higher quality forces (that better manage the ambient effects of friction in combat) inflict casualties at higher rates than those with less effectiveness. This can be seen clearly in the disparities in casualties between German and Soviet forces during World War II, Israeli and Arab combatants in 1973, and U.S. and coalition forces and the Iraqis in 1991 and 2003.
Combat Loss Rates on Future Battlefields
What do Dupuy’s combat attrition verities imply about casualties in future battles? As a baseline, he found that the average daily combat casualty rate in Western Europe during World War II for divisional-level engagements was 1-2% for winning forces and 2-3% for losing ones. For a divisional slice of 15,000 personnel, this meant daily combat losses of 150-450 troops, concentrated in the maneuver battalions (The ratio of wounded to killed in modern combat has been found to be consistently about 4:1. 20% are killed in action; the other 80% include mortally wounded/wounded in action, missing, and captured).
It seems reasonable to conclude that future battlefields will be less densely occupied. Brigades, battalions, and companies will be fighting in spaces formerly filled with armies, corps, and divisions. Fewer troops mean fewer overall casualties, but the daily casualty rates of individual smaller units may well exceed those of WWII divisions. Smaller forces experience significant variation in daily casualties, but Dupuy established average daily rates for them as shown below.
For example, based on Dupuy’s methodology, the average daily loss rate unmodified by combat variables for brigade combat teams would be 1.8% per day, battalions would be 8% per day, and companies 21% per day. For a brigade of 4,500, that would result in 81 battle casualties per day, a battalion of 800 would suffer 64 casualties, and a company of 120 would lose 27 troops. These rates would then be modified by the circumstances of each particular engagement.
Several factors could push daily casualty rates down. Milley envisions that U.S. units engaged in an anti-access/area denial environment will be constantly moving. A low density, highly mobile battlefield with fluid lines would be expected to reduce casualty rates for all sides. High mobility might also limit opportunities for infantry assaults and close quarters combat. The high operational tempo will be exhausting, according to Milley. This could also lower loss rates, as the casualty inflicting capabilities of combat units decline with each successive day in battle.
It is not immediately clear how cyberwarfare and information operations might influence casualty rates. One combat variable they might directly impact would be surprise. Dupuy identified surprise as one of the most potent combat power multipliers. A surprised force suffers a higher casualty rate and surprisers enjoy lower loss rates. Russian combat doctrine emphasizes using cyber and information operations to achieve it and forces with degraded situational awareness are highly susceptible to it. As Zelenopillya demonstrated, surprise attacks with modern weapons can be devastating.
Some factors could push combat loss rates up. Long-range precision weapons could expose greater numbers of troops to enemy fires, which would drive casualties up among combat support and combat service support elements. Casualty rates historically drop during night time hours, although modern night-vision technology and persistent drone reconnaissance might will likely enable continuous night and day battle, which could result in higher losses.
Drawing solid conclusions is difficult but the question of future battlefield attrition is far too important not to be studied with greater urgency. Current policy debates over whether or not the draft should be reinstated and the proper size and distribution of manpower in active and reserve components of the Army hinge on getting this right. The trend away from mass on the battlefield means that there may not be a large margin of error should future combat forces suffer higher combat casualties than expected.
The Prussian military philosopher Carl von Clausewitz identified the concept of friction in warfare in his book On War, published in 1832.
After looking at World War II combat casualty data to calculate the effect of friction on combat, Dupuy looked at casualty rates from earlier eras and found a steady correlation, which he believed further validated his hypothesis.
Despite the consistent fit of the data, Dupuy felt that his work was only the beginning of a proper investigation into the phenomenon.
