Riding the Red Horse (53 page)

Look at the scheme for Leuctra, and mark the Theban's heavily reinforced left wing. Now observe that the smaller, thinner forces on the Theban right were non-Theban allies, somewhat reluctant, unreliable, and relatively weak.

How were the Thebans able to achieve that mass? They spread out the formations on their right, accepting increased risk there in order to gain the combat power sufficient to force a decision on the left. The intent there wasn’t to “allocate minimum essential power” to do anything particularly bellicose, but to allocate just enough force to look like a threat and prevent some of the weaker Spartan allies from trying to swing right into the Theban heavy column that faced the Spartan right.

So while the Thebans did allocate minimal force to the secondary mission, the secondary mission wasn’t intended to be an active one.

However, Mass takes on a different character when the theater and war are counter-insurgency, which is to say when the challenge is one of population and resource control. At that point, it might be better called “Density,” because it will not be the masses of tanks and tracks and troops running about the battlefield that count, but the ability of the troops to have eyes on everything, especially those things that cannot be seen by high tech means, and to provide precise and limited firepower, local intimidation of the enemy, and security for friends, allies, and neutrals.

Shape

Shape is concerned with physical relationships of forces and combatants, both friendly and enemy, to each other and to the ground, to weapons effects, and to time-space relationships as modified by transportation nets and obstacles. If it isn’t obvious, this also implies logistics. Weather, too, can affect Shape.

This is one of my own additions. It meets the requirements I gave above for something to be considered a Principle of War. It has always had effect, ever since Mog and Og came at Gog from two sides, or Mog hid on a ledge above a trail to bash Og’s brains in. I can think of no circumstance where Shape will not be of relevance in war. It has an impact from the lowest levels to the very highest. Does not a rifleman seek solid physical cover when under fire? Does he not look left and right to position himself between his comrades? Does he not build a berm in front of his defensive position to absorb fire coming from that direction? And at the other extreme, was it not presence of Iraqi formations in Kuwait, in 1990, and Kuwait’s proximity to Saudi oil fields, that led us to war against Iraq in 1991? Was not the closing of the gap in air coverage over the Atlantic that defeated the U-boat threat—a matter of supreme importance to the United Kingdom—also a matter of shape?

Now imagine Leuctra with a different shape. Imagine the battlefield with the weaker forces on the right in a horizontal line with the heavier left. What happens then? In that case, the Theban’s weaker forces are driven off by the Spartan left before the Theban left can achieve decisive effect. At that point, the massive column in the Theban right is quite vulnerable to a flank attack, and is quite possibly routed.

Thus, Shape merits inclusion as a Principle of War.

Operation Barbarossa: An example of Mass, Economy of Force, and Shape in action

Everyone, at least everyone of enlightened sensibilities, knows that Hitler was a military ignoramus, and that every bad idea that negatively affected the German armed forces in World War II was originally his. Meanwhile, it is commonly believed that every good decision was either made by the General Staff or the famous Desert Fox, Erwin Rommel. Very often, as evidence believed to arise to the level of absolute proof, something like the above map will be produced. It is an implicit argument that Hitler must have been incompetent, after all, see how he failed to designate, supply, and sustain a single primary point of effort, a Schwerpunkt. He gets an F for failure to produce Mass.

The problem is that it's just not true. To a really frightening extent—especially if, like me, you’re part-Jewish—many of the good ideas executed by the German military were Hitler’s, and many of the lousy ones belonged to the General Staff or even the sainted Rommel. A few examples include the invasion of Czechoslovakia, Eben-Emael, the Sichelschnitt through the Ardennes, the stand-fast order in Russia in 1941 that saved the German Army. All Hitler. Conversely, the unimaginative plan to redo Schlieffen in an expanded manner was the branchild of Halder of the General Staff. The first halt order before Dunkirk? Rundstedt asked for it. As for Rommel, he never understood his place in the war in North Africa nor what could and could not be provided to him.
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As for Kursk, Hitler thought it was such a bad idea that it made him ill, but he allowed the General Staff to talk him into it. Was it his responsibility? Yes, clearly, but it was not the result of his original lack of judgment.
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It is also not true that the plan for the invasion of the USSR was either ignorant or inept. It was actually the only sensible way to do it, due to the importance of Shape.

The shape of the German's invading front in this case is driven largely by the transportation net, or rather, the lack thereof. The German and Russian rail systems were incompatible, the Russian gauge, 1,524 millimeter, being wider than the standard German gauge of 1,435mm. Thus there could be no efficient throughput for the Germans until the Russian rails were narrowed to their standard. Moreover, to use the Russian rails at all prior to conversion would require the Germans to capture Russian locomotives and rolling stock, which was hardly something to be counted on given Russian proclivities for scorched-earth tactics.

As an alternative, there were the roads. They were few. They were crappy. They were expected to crumble quickly under the grinding weight of the war machine. Worse, Germany couldn’t produce enough wheels to supply more than a fraction of its army, even if the roads had been perfect autobahns. As it was, every German supply line was maxed out. No German axis of advance could have dealt with a substantial increase in forces without collapsing for lack of supply. It is questionable whether any of them could have supported even a token increase, so constrained was their supply situation.

The Soviets, on the other hand, had the use of their rail system until the Germans seized it. Their rolling stock fit the tracks. Their locomotives could deal with the relative paucity of water towers. They could literally supply any conceivable army anywhere in Western Russia, given a rail line and minimal unloading facilities. Imagine if Hitler had actually tried to create a mass of numbers and thrown everything into a drive on Moscow. What happens then? That mass of troops starves. It simply cannot be supplied over lines that are already insufficient for a much smaller number. Any offensive effort of this type is doomed to collapse. Even worse, such an effort would relieve the Russians of the threats to their north and south. Unlike the Germans they can supply pretty much everyone, everywhere. They can also redeploy the troops by rail to blunt German breakthroughs, and in fact did so, although with less success than the French in World War I.

In light of that, let's look back at the
2008 FM 3-0
mandate on Economy of Force: “Allocate minimum essential combat power to secondary missions.” Did Army Group North and Army Group South succeed in fixing or destroying large blocks of otherwise redeployable Red Army combat power? The answer is clearly yes. Did they do it so handily that we can claim they had excess combat power at their disposal? I don’t think so. Ergo, this was a successful application of Economy of Force.

And as for Mass, recall what I wrote above about quality. Did the Germans mass enough quality to continue their advance consistent with their logistic capabilities. The answer there, too, is in the affirmative, up to the point where wear and tear, simple exhaustion, and Generals Winter and Zhukov, put an end to the great offensive.

Therefore, given the Shape of the Russian theater and especially to the transportation aspect, the much maligned plan for Operation Barbarossa begins to look considerably more sensible, does it not?

Objective

To a large extent, what is actually implicated in the discussion of Operation Barbarossa is another Principle of War: Objective. FM 3-0s directive states, “Direct every military operation toward a clearly defined, decisive, and attainable objective.” That’s another poor phrasing of a principle that can mislead and misguide. I don’t mean that it isn’t a valid phrasing, however, what I mean is that not everything directed toward a goal will be obviously directed toward that goal, nor does everything that seems to be directed toward that goal actually help achieve it. That’s another part of the common misunderstanding of Barbarossa. Even though Army Groups North and South were not aimed at Moscow, they were still actively aiding in the German attempt to capture Moscow. Abraham Lincoln showed a commendable understanding of Objective when General Grant’s overall scheme was explained during the Civil War, and he responded, “Those not skinning can hold a leg.”

However, it does not follow from that principle that any and every operation necessarily contributes to the objective. One wonders, for example, how much of the money pegged for reconstruction and democracy-building
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that disappeared ultimately went to fund the enemy instead of supporting the war effort in Iraq and Afghanistan.

There are different goals for different times and different levels. Was the goal for the invasion of Iraq in 2003 to “build democracy” or to “topple the regime and defang its armed forces”? Or was it a case of multiple goals? If so, were those goals compatible? Did the desire to eventually build democracy in either Iraq or Afghanistan interfere with toppling the regimes there? Probably not. Did the manner of our toppling the regimes interfere with the goal of building democracy? Almost certainly.

It should be kept in mind, therefore, that objectives are usually sequential. For example, what was the goal of our operations in Europe in WW II? It was something on the order of, “Defeat Nazi Germany and extinguish the Nazi regime.” What goal preceded that? “Force a crossing of the Rhine.” What goal preceded that? “Liberate France.” Were there any caveats to that latter goal? Yes, the objective was to liberate France without destroying the infrastructure. Was there a goal before that? “Breakout from Normandy.” And before that? “Force a landing in France.” Each objective was decisive in itself. But was “liberate the port of Antwerp” a decisive objective or was it merely desirable? That’s the wrong question. The liberation of Antwerp, a necessary port, was a prerequisite “directed toward” the ultimate objective, “Extinguish the Nazi regime.”

On the other hand, were operations in the Mediterranean, North Africa, Italy, the Balkans and Southern France actually directed toward a decisive goal or were they mere distracting sideshows that proved to be wastes of power, blood, and treasure? Although I am not a fanatic on this matter, I am inclined to think they were more or less wasteful distractions that were neither necessary nor genuinely directed toward the ultimate objective.

True or not, asking such questions is an important part of learning to use the Principles to study war. It behooves one to learn where they have been violated, and what the costs of those violations were.

Finally, it should be noted that that we in the West tend to see objectives in physical terms. Capture this city, establish a lodgment on that side of the river or sea, destroy that factory, kill those men, or—to go back deeply into our earliest military origins—“retrieve that woman”. This can be difficult to recognize since our early experiences of serious battle were almost entirely concerned with morale, and even today we still try to attack the enemy’s morale. Regardless, the East still tends to look more to non-physical objectives than do we. For example, in Vietnam, the communist objective concerned breaking the morale of our home front while preserving his own. Just about everything they did was geared to that goal and, it must be admitted, they achieved that goal and won the war because of it. It is extremely unclear that we ever understood that our physically oriented approach to both South Vietnam and the air war over the north, tended to better serve the enemy's goals than our own.