Notes on Command for Commanding Officers: From a Brigade Commander

Abstract

The article gathers together a collection of thoughts on command from the perspective of a brigade commander. Most will not be new. They are aimed at commanding officers, though some will resonate with more junior commanders. The article has been derived from a speech delivered at the 2008 and 2009 pre-command courses in Canungra by the then Brigadier Stephen Day.

I worked with ten different commanding officers while I was a brigade commander. They were the ablest of soldiers. We learnt much in our service together. I have eight thoughts that I have distilled from those experiences, coupled with some of my own, for current and prospective commanding officers.

One. As a commander, you need to continually ask yourself: what are we trying to achieve? And you need to be able to articulate the answer clearly and concisely. This requires personal understanding and effort; something that your staff can help with, but not do for you. This is not easy, it takes time and intellect. Command is an intellectual endeavour. And if you cannot answer the question, you will need to go back and do some more work.

Some of you will be thinking about a command directive or the like, to issue to your new command. Something that outlines the shape you want for your unit. If you are about to take up a command appointment and are still thinking about a directive, then good. If you have written it, my advice is to think of it as an early draft, and put it aside until you arrive in your command. A command directive needs to be informed by the realities of the unit today; and you need to see them for yourself.

Colonel Harry Summers was a distinguished US Army strategic thinker, though was more famous for his conversation with a North Vietnamese officer during peace negotiations at the end of the war in Hanoi. Summers pointed out to his opponent ‘You know, you have never beaten us on the battlefield’, to which the North Vietnamese officer responded, ‘That is true, but also irrelevant’. So my first point is: continually ask yourself what you are trying to achieve.

Two. As you go about your business, implementing your plan, making decisions, don’t let process or policy dominate your humanity.

The old Greek philosopher, Aristotle, declared that being persuasive required you to address three things—logos (reason), pathos (emotion) and ethos (ethics—in this case to reflect credibility). The Army does the logos bit quite well, the ethos is fine enough, but the pathos is often wanting.

When I was a commanding officer in Townsville I got it wrong. A married soldier was the only support in the world for his long ill sister, who lived in South Australia. He was away on military business when he received word that his sister’s health had weakened and that she might not recover. Unable to return in a timely fashion, he asked that his compassionate travel entitlement be transferred to his wife, so that she could be by his sister’s side. I asked the chief clerk to check the policy and ‘not allowed’ was the advice. The soldier was so informed. He promptly responded that it would not cost the Army an additional cent to grant his request, in fact we would benefit, as he would still be at work and he asked me to reconsider. As I was doing that his sister died, alone. I wish I had that time over again.

The staff will generally give the policy line, the logos. You need to overlay it with the pathos and then make your decision. This may involve taking some risk, and I will talk about risk later on.

Three. You will need to have courage. Many of us are physically brave but morally weak. Yet I have never known a soldier with moral courage who did not own the other lesser attribute of physical bravery. Physical courage is important, but moral courage is more challenging and more important. Moral courage demands that you do and say what you know to be right, even though you will catch several different kinds of hell for doing or saying it. It requires you to take the harder right, not the easy wrong. Always act in accordance with what is morally right without fear of the consequence for you or your team.

Moral courage is required in ordinary day to day business. And to have it means not being afraid to be unpopular. You may have been confronted with some inattention from a soldier ... he didn’t salute when he should have. And you have been tempted to let it pass ... ‘perhaps he didn’t see me’, ‘he’s from another unit with low standards’, or ‘I will let the RSM deal with it’. Well, each time you let it pass you weaken your own moral courage. And each time you fortify yourself, and address the inattention, you strengthen your moral courage. And if you do it properly, you increase the respect the soldier has for you.

As a commander you have a duty to establish the atmospherics so that a free exchange of views can be had—so that moral courage can be exhibited. The rank you wear and the experience you have relative to your subordinates can intimidate, so you need to work at it. The RSM should be a reliable source to advise whether your team are telling you what they actually think, or whether they are giving you what they think you want to hear.

Four. And so to risk, about which there are three points that I wish to make.

In February 2006 while serving in Iraq we had a problem. The issue centred on a place called Spaghetti Junction in Baghdad. Lawlessness was keeping other than the unsuspecting away from there. Contractors would not traverse the area. Attacks against coalition and Iraqi security forces were launched from there. An Iraqi Division commander was killed by a sniper nearby. And a week after the Samara Mosque bombing the local population, a mix of Sunni and Shia, started to kill each other. The Force Commander, General George Casey, wanted Spaghetti Junction made quiescent; he wanted a brigade of tanks to be deployed to the area overnight and for operations to commence at dawn.

Now his staff, including me, thought this was unwise. Firstly, the tank commanders would not have time to reconnoitre the area properly and would be vulnerable to the enemy who had been ensconced there for some time. Secondly, we would have to uncover one of our vital supply routes by taking a tank battalion from a route security mission. Thirdly, we would be sending confusing messages; we had just finished telling governments and the press how well things were going and that we were reducing our profile—it is difficult to hide a brigade of tanks. Lastly, it was unnecessary; a combination of ISR, attack helicopters and infantry who knew the area were available and could do the job.

I thought we had a good case. The commander accepted our points, and told us to get the tanks there anyway. Within 48 hours the enemy had been silenced, the locals calmed down and the press were congratulating us. This was a bold and successful decision, one that demonstrated the commander’s willpower; no one on staff had said that his idea was a good one. In fact, all of us who spoke suggested it was not.

A week earlier the Golden Mosque had been destroyed. This was the most confronting and inflammatory attack against the Shia since the war started—and we knew it. We, the operations staff, recommended immediate measures be put in place to protect against the likely Shia retaliation. We proposed an immediate vehicle ban, a curfew from last light, and increased security forces in mixed areas in Baghdad. A decision was taken to move cautiously with any emergency measures. The population was tiring of them and we risked losing further popular support. The decision was made to wait 24 hours to see how things went. Overnight there were over one hundred people killed in reprisals in Baghdad and forty-seven were kidnapped, never to be seen again. We had been too cautious, too risk averse.

Now I suppose I could find some examples where being cautious paid off, but I have none where we were bold and wish we had not been. My first, and most important message about risk is that, in war, if you have a choice, take the bold option.

Point two. When you present your plans for endorsement to your boss you will probably include the risks associated with the proposed course of action. This is a good thing. But I have found it to be just as necessary to include the risks associated with not taking up the proposal; such an inclusion is helpful to keep otherwise cautious decision-makers moving forward.

In August 2005, again in Iraq, we prepared a plan, known as the ‘outside Baghdad strategy’. It was a good plan. General Casey tasked us with briefing it to senior Iraqi generals. The brief was taken by an elegant and well spoken three-star. He had served as a major general under Saddam Hussein. Early in the briefing we moved onto our assumptions. After the first one was explained he interrupted:

Ah yes, assumptions. It is particularly important to get these correct. I learnt this the hard way. When we were planning for the invasion of Kuwait, we established a set of assumptions. One of these was that Saudi Arabia would not permit foreign troops to be based on their soil... this was not a good assumption!

My final point on risk is to be careful about writing it off in your planning.

I offer these observations because in barracks, back home here, there is pressure on us to reduce risk, to be cautious, to be predictable. This is necessary in peace. We must always minimise the chance of injury to those whom we have the good fortune to command; few soldiers would be happy to follow the lead of a commander who did not. But the best way to minimise risk to you and your command when you go from peace to war, is to switch from cautious to bold.

Five. Resources are a commander’s business. Ask for what you need with conviction. But you need to do your homework before you put your case. In 2008 the commanding officer of the gun regiment, in my brigade, started to realise that if APEP went the way he was hearing then he was going to struggle with ... well a bunch of things. And that was the problem; he had not put sufficient intellectual energy into the challenge and so could not clearly explain what he needed addressed and why. When he saw that he was not getting any traction, he thought about things a bit harder. ‘If you do not give me fifteen more gunners, then I can guarantee only one gun next year. And if that is all I can provide, then I cannot train the JOSC for MRTF3 and will not be able to accept Excalibur into the regiment next year.’ Now he got attention—and most of the human resources he needed.

You also need to get personally involved in the allocation of resources to subordinates. There is a tendency amongst staff to ‘nickel and dime’ resources when there is not enough to go around—you need to place weight on the main effort. And you will need to look up as well, to ensure that the higher headquarters staff do the same for you.

Six. The higher you get, the more the keys to success lay outside your organisation. You need to identify these and then get out and meet them. Tell them what your plans are, remembering the need to be able to tell it simply and concisely. And talk to them, don’t tell them, about how they can assist you.

Some of the key ones for commanding officers will be the Defence Support Group—the supporting third line health facility, especially with mental health as an increasing challenge for us—the Defence Community Organisation and the Defence Housing Authority. You will find these folks very receptive to a visit by you into their space early on in your tenure. Do your best to start on a positive note. Even if you have had a demoralising experience with Defence Housing Authority during your move, keep it separate from your introductory meeting. Identify your point of contact in the unit for normal business, but let them know that they can call you if the matter warrants it.

You need also to consider the relationship with your boss. And this is my seventh point.

Seven. The more senior you get the more you have to think about your look up duties. We are taught, for most of our professional careers, about our responsibilities to our soldiers and we receive some very decent education in how to do this. The look up piece is usually dealt with by the need to be loyal both ways—up and down. For most this is not an issue—you usually work pretty close to your boss and see him very regularly; in a unit it is just about every day, so communication is frequent and personal. But as a commanding officer things will be quite different. Your brigade commander will not be just down the corridor and you will not see him daily; once a fortnight is more usual. Much happens in two weeks, some of which will be important to your boss.

What I suggest you do when you first call on your commander is to seek direction about his wake-up criteria: what are those things that you will need to tell him quickly and personally, and what can be left to standard reporting. You should also have a chat about how you will routinely communicate with each other: by email, SMS, phone or in-person meetings. A mix is the most practical, but difficult matters should be dealt with in-person or over the phone. And if nothing has happened worthy of discussion for a few weeks, then give the boss a call anyway. Tell him you are still on the end of the k-phone and all is well—he will appreciate it. I think a reasonable rule of thumb for commanding officers is to spend 60 per cent of your time looking down in your unit, 30 per cent looking out and across and 10 per cent looking up.

Eight. Take care of yourself, mentally, physically and emotionally. Read, sleep, think and exercise.

I read every night, sometimes not for long. I usually get about ten pages in before I doze off. This serves two purposes. It helps build my knowledge; I read military history and a little philosophy. And it helps me wind down at the end of the day. Reading history can also be consoling.

In the first half of the 1990s there was much melancholy about as Defence adopted a policy of reducing numbers in uniform and contracting out services. Around this time I read an account of Napoleon’s 1796 invasion of Italy and his post operation report. Though the campaign was an extraordinary success, he had a complaint. Hitherto, the horses drawing his artillery had been ridden by soldiers, but now, on direction from Paris, they were operated by contractors. And these were less robust, worked shorter hours and were fussy about their food. So outsourcing and the military is not new; the challenge was, and remains, to outsource the right things. I, at least, felt less troubled about the concept.

Sleep depravation is a significant hindrance to effective decision-making. Sleep is personal; so if you need four hours then take four, if you need seven hours then take seven.

You need to find time to reflect and think as command is an intellectual endeavour. Schedule thinking time in your diary for an hour, two or three times a week; do it just before lunch so that you can combine both periods to give you a couple of hours by yourself.

Of course physical exercise is part of the job. And despite the demands on your time you must find time to do it. Apart from the obvious health benefits you will find that exercise is a good opportunity to think and reflect. So doing it on your own, or with the RSM, is sensible—though physical training tests and combat fitness assessments are best done with the soldiers.

However you go about your command, never forget that there is no greater privilege than to be given command, lawful authority and responsibility of your fellow citizens.

About the Author

Major General Stephen Day was born into a military family, with his father and both grandfathers having served with the Australian Army. He was commissioned in 1982 and served in a variety of engineer units including as Commanding Officer of the 3rd Combat Engineer Regiment. Operational service has included deployments to Namibia, Timor-Leste and Iraq. He has instructed at the Royal Military College, Duntroon; been a Staff Officer to the Chief of Defence Force; and attended Defence Colleges in Australia and Malaysia. His most recent appointment was as Commander 7th Brigade.