This article is about contemporary dismounted infantry tactics. It argues that the Australian Army should reconsider some aspects of its approach to manoeuvre and suppression in the close battle. The article does not argue for a particular solution. Rather, it highlights some apparent problems with our current doctrine and poses a challenge to innovate, and to debate the issues. The aim is to encourage professional debate about tactical innovation within infantry. Whether that debate takes place in the pages of this journal or within some other forum is immaterial. What is important is that we have the debate, reconsider our approach to suppression and manoeuvre in the close battle, and validate our tactics for 21st-century conditions.
Operational experience is more widespread among Australian infantry than at any time since the Vietnam War, yet actual combat experience remains rare. Therefore, tactical doctrine—the way we fight, and how we teach our junior commanders—is more important than ever. If we do not constantly develop our tactical thinking, there is a real danger that we will apply inappropriate tactical methods in future conflict—with disastrous consequences. This article will first describe some experiences that have led the author to question certain aspects of our tactics. It will then briefly examine some historical and scientific evidence before issuing a challenge to reconsider the basis of our infantry tactics.
Company Attacks in Urban Terrain
Between 1995 and 1997, I served as an exchange instructor on the British Army’s Platoon Commander’s Battle Course. During each course the students formed a company group and undertook several attacks in urban terrain, using simulation—similar to our Tactical Engagement Simulation System (TESS). These were two-sided exercises, conducted on instrumented ranges, with night-vision cameras and location systems that allowed us to ‘play back’ engagements and analyse them in detail. An extremely high degree of realism was achieved against an independent ‘free-play’ enemy.
During three years in Britain, I commanded twelve company attacks in the urban training facilities at Sennybridge in Wales and at Copehill Down on Salisbury Plain. Each attack was recorded and analysed, and tactics were changed over time in an effort to improve the company’s survival in the assault. The attacks were fought over the same terrain each time, against the same enemy, in the same scenario, with the same mission (‘capture’) and the same friendly forces. These exercises represented a significant body of experience in the urban assault. With high-fidelity simulation, it was possible to identify which friendly and enemy elements inflicted which casualties, at which point in the battle, and at what location.
The results were surprising. In the early attacks, an orthodox tactical approach was employed. The attack commenced with the establishment of suppressive fire, which enabled the assault platoon to break into the village and fight forward in order to secure key objectives. The reserve was then used to clear the remainder of the village. Held by a reinforced platoon in deliberate defence, the village would eventually fall. We would, however, always suffer heavy casualties, and it would take several hours to capture the village.
The problem seemed to be that of suppression. The company could establish sufficient fire superiority to ‘shoot in’ the assault platoon to the first houses but, as we attempted to manoeuvre, the assault troops would suffer casualties from depth positions that remained undetected and unsuppressed. By the time the objectives were taken, ammunition would be so low (and casualties so high) that we became extremely vulnerable to counterattack.
Watching the video ‘replay’ of these attacks and dissecting them in after-action reviews, I was often surprised by the behaviour and positioning of my troops in the assault. They did not advance by sections or fire teams, clearing house by house and establishing a neat ‘forward line of own troops’. Nor did they move in a straight line. Instead, their movement resembled that of a flock of birds—small independent groups working to a common purpose but without a fixed formation. They would move to a point from which to observe and suppress the next enemy position, then to a point from which the position could be cleared, then to a point from which to observe the next position, and so on. This cycle of observe-suppress-move-clear-observe was not based on lines of advance, forward lines of own or enemy troops, or indeed on anything linear at all. Instead it was based on ‘points’—points of observation, firing points, jumping-off points for assaults.
By the end of my time on the Battle Course, and through experimentation with tactics and formations, I had found a formula that worked. This formula involved employing almost three-quarters of the company in fire support, with only a small assault element comprising an overstrength section. This section was lightly equipped but carried engineering and demolition stores. A ‘reserve’ of firepower was also constituted, comprising several general-purpose machine-guns and light 51 mm mortars rather than a reserve of assault troops. The bulk of the company would suppress known enemy positions, inflicting casualties but manoeuvring only enough to achieve effective suppression. Enemy in depth would often reveal themselves by firing in support of forward positions, allowing depth positions to be targeted and destroyed. Because most of the company was in fire support, we could carry a heavier ammunition load, and hence sustain a heavy weight of fire for a long time. The assault element would be committed only after the enemy had cracked, and if possible from an unexpected direction. If necessary, the reserve would direct additional fire support to the most critical area once the assault group began to manoeuvre. The results were excellent: the village would fall much more quickly, with far fewer friendly casualties compared with the orthodox approach.
This experience gave a clear indication that something was amiss with our doctrinal tactics. Doctrinally, we tend to organise groupings into neat thirds: assault, fire support, reserve. However, my personal experience indicated that this gave insufficient suppression, while making the assault element a bigger target and consequently increasing casualties. We tend to regard reserves as primarily manoeuvre forces; in the company assault, however, we learnt that, where the initial assault failed, more assault troops alone would not succeed. Australian doctrine tends to express tactics in terms of lines—lines of departure, axes of advance, limits of exploitation. My experience would tend to suggest that (certainly in complex terrain such as urban environments) what matter are not lines but points.
Most importantly, our doctrine asserts that tactical success in the close battle is founded on manoeuvre. Doctrinally, we suppress the enemy purely to create favourable conditions for manoeuvre, and then we manoeuvre to defeat the enemy. Experience at Sennybridge was quite different: tactical success for infantry in complex terrain seemed to be founded on suppression. We suppressed the enemy until they took such casualties that their fire began to slacken. This suppression tilted the force ratio sharply in the attacker’s favour, damaged enemy morale, but most importantly achieved ‘fire dominance’ over the enemy. Then, and only then, did we begin to manoeuvre, and often our manoeuvre simply consolidated a victory that we had already achieved through suppression. Indeed, sometimes the mere appearance of the assault element from an unexpected direction was sufficient to break the enemy’s resistance, provided that the suppression had been effective enough.
The fundamental importance of manoeuvre and the validity of a ‘manoeuvrist’ approach is not in question. Military lessons from the United Kingdom, however, indicated that manoeuvre was something that happened primarily before committing to the close battle. Effective manoeuvre allowed the company to commence the battle under the most advantageous circumstances possible, and this was clearly essential. Once actually engaged in close combat, however, suppression became the key.
Training Versus Reality
Returning to Australia in 1998 to command an infantry company, I had several concerns about our orthodox minor tactics. In Britain I had used a tactical methodology that worked for urban operations in a simulated environment, but doubt remained about its validity in the real world. For instance, my experience was limited to the execution of a full company attack only during training. More importantly, conditions in the United Kingdom were specific to the urban environment and were based on simulation; we had no way of replicating indirect fire, or the emotional and mental strain of combat. Like most infantry officers, I remained highly sceptical about conclusions drawn from simulation rather than from real-life combat.
Then reality came in the form of Australia’s deployment to East Timor in September 1999. My battalion was the first to land in Dili and deployed to the West Timor border within a few days. In the early period of INTERFET, operations on the border were primarily based on counterinsurgency rather than peace enforcement. After all, there was virtually no civilian population in many areas and there were frequent contacts with militia forces attempting to cross to West Timor. Elements of my company were involved in several contacts. I took part in a major firefight lasting about ninety minutes between a company tactical headquarters, two platoons and later an armoured personnel carrier section on our side, and an overstrength Indonesian Army platoon plus about twenty militia on the other. These contacts, and observation of the real-life combat experience of other soldiers, convinced me that there was a strong element of truth in the observations that I had derived earlier.
For example, it was evident that the lead element in a contact would often simply be pinned down, unable to manoeuvre and only able to return fire to protect itself and extract its forward scouts. Elements on the flank, out of the immediate contact, would be able to suppress, but would still be unable to manoeuvre except to achieve better suppression. These flanking elements—in one case, tactical company headquarters—would create casualties through suppression, and ultimately cause the enemy to falter. In these situations suppression was paramount. No manoeuvre would happen—or would be possible—until the enemy had already cracked and fire dominance had been achieved. Then and only then could sub-units manoeuvre. In one case, after the enemy had been comprehensively suppressed and casualties had been inflicted, the mere arrival of the quick-reaction force mounted in armoured vehicles caused the opposition to seek a cease-fire. 1
Similarly, linear manoeuvre was largely irrelevant. What mattered was not the position of our forward line, but getting to a point (or a series of points) from which the enemy could be identified and suppressed effectively. Once this was achieved, it was a matter of maintaining sufficient pressure through suppression to ‘win the firefight’. his would eventually suppress the enemy’s fire, allowing effective manoeuvre.
In summary, my personal experience and my observation of others’ experience in both simulated and actual close combat has led to the following conclusions. First, dismounted infantry combat in the close battle is about suppression more than manoeuvre, and it is about ‘points’, not ‘lines’. Second, the orthodox arrangement of a platoon in the assault, a platoon in fire support and a platoon in reserve does work, but it is costly in time and casualties. Third, an arrangement using a much higher proportion of the force in fire support, a reserve of firepower (rather than a manoeuvre reserve) and a small assault element works better in complex terrain. Fourth, infantry in the assault do not maintain fixed, linear formations. Trying to do so only increases casualties. Instead, they move from point to point on a cycle of observe-suppress-move-clear-observe.2
Again, I am not suggesting that manoeuvre is unimportant. What I am saying is that manoeuvre is something that happens before, after and around the flanks of the close battle. Manoeuvre transports one to the battle under the most favourable circumstances. Once committed, however, for infantry the close fight becomes primarily one of suppression rather than movement.
Australian infantry tactics have not been significantly updated since the early 1980s, and are based on experience from South-East Asian conflicts during and after World War II. Thus, our doctrine tends to assume the presence of jungle. For that reason, we assume comprehensive cover from view and hence the freedom to shake out into linear formations in order to maximise firepower to the front. Our doctrine then uses a fire support element—often deployed in extended line and ideally at 90 degrees to the axis (line) of assault—in order to assist an assault element (also usually in extended line) in pushing onto the enemy position, up to a linear limit of exploitation. These concepts are entirely linear and, as described, with modern weapons in complex terrain (where cover and space may not be available to shake out into linear formations), they do not appear to be particularly effective. Before we can generalise from these particular examples, there is a need to examine what historical and scientific analysis can tell us.
Supplementing Personal Experience: Historical and Scientific Evidence
Several serving infantry officers have commented that the idea of having a large fire-support element and a small assault group is nothing new, and that Field Marshal Erwin Rommel was doing it in World War I. That is certainly true, as Rommel’s own book Infantry Attacks demonstrates. Consider, for example, the German attack on Mt Matajur in October 1917. In mountainous terrain, Rommel’s detachment succeeded in infiltrating successive enemy defensive lines, capturing 9150 prisoners and eighty-one guns for the loss of only six killed and thirty wounded—an astounding casualty ratio for a battle in World War I.3 Rommel’s method was to employ ‘a supporting element, usually consisting of massed machine-guns, in position to suppress enemy forces while a small penetration element created and widened a gap and his exploitation element (which usually consisted of the bulk of his forces) passed through the gap and moved deep into enemy lines’.4
Clearly there are differences between Rommel’s method and the approach described earlier. There is, however, a similar emphasis on achieving fire dominance through massed suppression before committing a smaller assault element to manoeuvre. The concept is therefore not new. It does, however, beg the question, ‘If the idea is so well-established, why is it not in our doctrine and why do we still teach minor tactics based on linear manoeuvre instead of point suppression?’. Our young commanders still focus on manoeuvring to victory instead of winning the firefight.
The experience of Rommel is not the only historical precedent. In 1982, the 2nd Battalion, the Parachute Regiment, had a similar experience at Goose Green in the Falklands. When ‘A’ Company was pinned down on Darwin Hill by concealed Argentine positions, they attempted fruitlessly for several hours to overcome the defence using orthodox, linear manoeuvre. This assault cost the company several lives, including that of the Commanding Officer, Lieutenant Colonel ‘H’ Jones.
Finally, the position was taken as a result of effective suppression. This suppression included heavy weapons fire from companies in depth, establishing fire dominance and causing the enemy positions to collapse suddenly. Then—and only then—could a small manoeuvre element secure the position. 5
Sydney Jary—the only British officer to survive in command of a light infantry platoon all the way from Normandy to Berlin in 1944-45—once discussed company-level manoeuvre with my students in the United Kingdom. His view was that ‘at company level, you can manoeuvre as much as you want, but if you manoeuvre around one strongpoint, you will just strike the next strongpoint along. Eventually you must commit to the assault and when you do, you must rely on firepower’.6
Numerous other historical examples demonstrate that the idea of ‘winning the firefight’ through suppression and then manoeuvring to consolidate has been around for some time. For a variety of reasons, it seems that the contrasting idea of defeating the enemy ‘by manoeuvre’ (that is, by movement) and using suppression merely as a means to enable that movement, has come to dominate Australian tactical thinking. Because movement is easily described and controlled using linear concepts—axes, angles, lines of departure, and limits of exploitation—our thinking has, in turn, become quite linear. Unfortunately the battlefield is not linear, and arguably never has been.
Recent Defence Science and Technology Organisation (DSTO) studies support the notion that ‘suppression is paramount’ in the dismounted close battle. A study by D. K. Bowley, T. Castles and A. Ryan (2001) analysed the Restructuring the Army (RTA) trials to define the key mechanisms of close combat. The study focused on how troops in the close battle actually fight and win, as distinct from how they think they fight.
Using statistical modelling, historical studies, and computer wargames, DSTO attempted to define the nature of close combat. There were three key findings from their research. First, in open terrain, close combat is dominated by aimed fire and attrition. Second, in restricted terrain, close combat is dominated by area fire and suppression.7 Third, the effectiveness of infantry weapons in the attack in close country (that is, restricted or complex terrain) is their ability to suppress the defence.8
An earlier DSTO study conducted by D. K. Bowley and J. A. Millikan in 1997 found that direct fire support ‘has a huge impact on the conduct of the battle ... about 40 per cent of all casualties were caused by fire support. In addition to the outright casualties, the fire support suppresses the defence. This allows the assaulting force to manoeuvre with a reduced probability of engagement’.9 Fire support inflicts casualties and suppresses the enemy, and only when this is achieved can the assault element manoeuvre to close with the enemy. Fire support has its greatest impact early in the battle, and hence provides a basis for later manoeuvre.
Scientific analysis is always subject to caveats based on methodology and experimental design. There is nevertheless a pattern here: simulation, real-life combat experience, historical precedent and scientific modelling all seem to indicate that suppression and fire superiority (‘winning the firefight’) have a much greater impact on battlefield success than is reflected in our doctrinal tactics.
The Challenge of Innovation
Some infantrymen would consider it premature to revise Australian tactics on the basis of simulation, scientific modelling and a few fairly light contacts in East Timor. They may be right, and it is certainly not the case that we should abandon our tactical doctrine, distilled from combat experience in nine wars, just because of new insights.
On the other hand, it needs to be appreciated that, in modern conflict—with casualty-averse governments and constant media presence—a few casualties in a small contact can have enormous consequences. Events at the tactical level can now have strategic and political consequences. If a few minor engagements had gone slightly wrong in the early days in Timor, the entire campaign might have turned out differently. TESS simulation, historical evidence, scientific analysis and recent real-life combat experience demonstrate that there is merit in reconsidering some aspects of our doctrinal minor tactics.
Australians are justifiably proud of our combat record. The character of warfare is constantly changing, however, and if we are arrogant about our past without taking account of current conditions, we place ourselves in a dangerous situation. History has shown that regular armies are slower to innovate than unconventional forces, and successful regular armies are slowest of all.10 We now face unconventional, innovative opponents that pose a serious asymmetric threat against 20th-century armies. If we rest on our laurels, and keep doing what we have always done, there is a danger that we will suffer a significant defeat under the new conditions of 21st-century warfare.
Anyone who has ever participated in close combat, or debriefed troops after a contact, knows the conundrum that hampers our understanding of battle: ‘If you weren’t there, you don’t know what happened. If you were there, you probably can’t remember clearly’. Close combat in complex terrain is so confusing and fast moving that even people a few dozen metres away do not know exactly what is happening. Meanwhile, those who are on the spot are subject to the psychology of crisis. Like those of people in a car accident, their sensory perceptions are influenced by the expectation of imminent death or injury and the enormous shock of combat. For this reason, everyone remembers a particular engagement differently. This of course is not new, as this description from the battle of Waterloo demonstrates:
Afterwards, nobody in the Infantry ... had a clear consecutive memory of what happened. They only remembered isolated moments, glimpses through the battle smoke, sudden piercing expressions of sound or smell or sight: the rest was a daze of fear, excitement or horror.11
In close combat, personal experience alone is an unreliable basis for changing infantry tactics. Nonetheless, as shown above, there is a clear imperative to continually update and revalidate our tactics in order to ensure that they are appropriate for changing conditions. How then should infantry commanders seek to validate and improve their tactics? Methods include using simulation, observer-controllers, after-action reviews, and experimentation.
With reference to simulation, TESS—particularly when used on the new, instrumented ranges being developed around Australia—can be an extremely effective tool in analysing how we fight and in developing better approaches to close combat. As the Combat Training Centre (Live) develops further, it should ultimately be possible to provide high-fidelity battle simulation data that can be used to generate new tactical ideas and evaluate them. TESS remains in short supply for many units, but its benefits for training and experimentation are significant. If simulation is not available, the use of observer-controllers—who are able to observe tactical performance and facilitate unbiased feedback (as distinct from ‘assessment’ or grading)—can provide similar data that can be used to generate new ideas.
Too often, lack of time or resources lead us to conduct each serial of a tactical exercise only once, as a set-piece activity. The battalion dawn attack as a ‘finale’ to a battalion exercise is a good example of this approach. There is also value in conducting the same attack several times, aided each time by analysis and after-action reviews, and attempting to improve tactical performance. Clearly, such exercises only make sense if there is a degree of openness and trust between commanders at all levels.
The ‘debrief’ after tactical exercises all too often consists of commanders seeking to justify their mistakes. Troops are often harangued in order to improve what the commander perceives as tactical weaknesses. Instead, we should be moving towards a formal, standardised after-action review process, where independent and impartial observers discuss the unit’s performance. Every soldier’s opinion should be considered, and the primary objective should be to understand what happened in order that performance can be improved.
If the experiences described in this article suggest anything, they underline the reality that there is no universal, ‘one best way’ to conduct the close battle. Changes in technology, environment and organisation mean that the conditions under which combat occurs are constantly changing. Therefore we should be seeking to experiment constantly, with different formations, organisations and methods, in order to find appropriate methods of dealing with new conditions as they arise. Clearly, this will often lead to tactical mistakes, but we should be encouraging our junior commanders to experiment and make their mistakes in training, rather than waiting until real defeats force change on us.
Conclusion
In summary, this article has argued—using personal experience, historical evidence and scientific analysis—that there is a need to rethink some aspects of our approach to the close battle. In particular, we should consider the relationship between firepower and movement, the need to achieve ‘fire dominance’ before attempting to manoeuvre, the use of a ‘reserve of fire’ rather than solely a manoeuvre reserve, and the notion that suppression rather than manoeuvre leads to victory in close combat. Manoeuvre is still critically important, but it happens before, after and around the flanks of the close battle; in the close battle itself, suppression is the key to success.
Some readers of this journal may disagree with this point of view. The Infantry corps is, at times, the most conventional and traditional of corps. Yet, as this article has sought to demonstrate, such orthodoxy is highly dangerous, particularly under current circumstances. It is time to debate the effectiveness of our infantry tactics. We have the opportunity to ensure that we are well positioned to face the conflicts that will inevitably confront us in this new century. The challenge of innovation is staring the Australian Army in the face. Whatever one’s views on the nature of the military profession, every soldier has the opportunity to rise to that challenge.
Endnotes
1 This article is about innovation in Infantry tactics and, therefore, there is no space here to address armour directly. Nevertheless, it is clear that armour provides an enormous advantage in the close battle. On two occasions in the United Kingdom, my company had a troop of Challenger tanks under command for an urban assault, and on both occasions the village was taken very rapidly with greatly reduced casualties. Simulation and combat experience alike support the conclusion that tanks save infantry lives, and no sane infantry commander would ever commit to battle without armour were it available. Unfortunately, because tanks are a scarce asset in the Australian Army, few infantry commanders ever see the great benefits they bestow, and hence tend to underrate their value. This is a major mistake.
2 Again, it is worth noting here that, whereas infantry can only do one of these functions at a time, armour can do all of them—except clear—simultaneously. This is one of the key advantages of armour in the close battle. Of course, infantry are still needed to clear positions and to protect the tanks from a variety of close-range threats, while both infantry and armour rely heavily on engineers and artillery for their survival—a classic combined arms situation.
3 Erwin Rommel, Infantry Attacks, Greenhill Books, London, 1990, pp. 202-23 (first published 1937 as Infanterie greift an).
4 David A. Grossman, ‘Maneuver Warfare in the Light Infantry: The Rommel Model’ in Richard D. Hooker (ed.), Maneuver Warfare—An Anthology, Presidio Press, Novato, CA, 1993.
5 S. Fitz-Gibbon, Not Mentioned in Despatches ... The History and Mythology of the Battle of Goose Green, Lutterworth Press, Cambridge, 1995, pp. 123-33.
6 Sydney Jary, discussion with PCBC students, August 1996. See Sydney Jary, 18 Platoon, 3rd edn, Sydney Jary Ltd., Clifton, Bristol, United Kingdom, 1994.
7 The study defined ‘restricted terrain’ as ‘terrain where likely detection ranges are shorter than effective weapon ranges’; in other words, by the time troops detect the enemy, they are already within weapon range. Conversely, open terrain is terrain where detection ranges are longer than weapon ranges.
8 D. K. Bowley, T. Castles, T. and A. Ryan, Attrition and Suppression: Defining the Nature of Close Combat, Australian Army Land Warfare Conference, Adelaide, 2001.
9 D. K. Bowley, D. K. and J. A. Millikan, Analysis of the Attack, Defence and Ambush Operational Situations, paper presented to the 23rd meeting of ABCA QWG AOR, Canada, February 1997.
10 See, for example, Williamson Murray and Barry Watts, Military Innovation in Peacetime, later published in Alan Millet (ed.), Military Innovations During the Interwar Years, Cambridge University Press, 2000.
11 D. Howarth, Waterloo: A Near Run Thing, Windrush Press, Gloucestershire, 1998, p. 93.
