Arguments over the organizational ownership of air observers going into World War II dated back to the previous war:
The artillery had taken the position that its own officers should serve in this role. When not in the air they would be with their regiment and thus up to date on the location of friendly and enemy forces and the ground commander’s scheme of maneuver. Aviators took the stance that any individual assigned to man an aircraft in any capacity had to be trained by and belong to the aviation force. The latter view prevailed in the War Department and persisted as settled policy until 1942 despite the efforts of senior artillerymen to reverse it.
The two branches also had more fundamental disagreements regarding overall warfighting doctrine. In seeking to more effectively integrate its operations with the infantry, the field artillery was pursuing a combined arms approach. Only by knitting together the efforts of all the arms, argued proponents, could the Army achieve victory, because the combat power generated by the integrated whole was greater than the sum produced by its various parts. The Air Corps, on the other hand, was seeking to distance itself from the remainder of the Army. Many air power advocates asserted that long-range bombardment, operating independently of ground forces, could deliver a knockout blow against government centers and industry, thus making it impossible for an opponent to continue the war. Centralized control of air assets under the command of an experienced aviation officer would permit their efficient employment against these strategic targets. Parceling out aircraft to support ground force commanders, as was common in World War I, would merely divert precious resources from the main aerial campaign. In this intellectual environment, aviation officers devoted their energy and enthusiasm to bombardment, and observation became a backwater.
Technological development created a third discontinuity between the aviation and artillery communities. By 1938 the Air Corps was well along in the transition from biplanes to high-speed monoplanes. Since observation aircraft needed to carry an observer and a heavy camera in addition to a pilot and machine guns, they were at a competitive disadvantage against single-seat fighter aircraft. In World War I the latter type had enjoyed a speed advantage of 10–20 miles per hour over observation craft. By the late 1930s the disparity was almost 100 miles per hour. If there was one lesson that aviators drew from World War I, it was that speed saved their lives. The new chief of the Air Corps, Maj. Gen. Henry H. Arnold, frankly doubted whether modern observation planes could survive over the battlefield. In 1939 he substituted light bombers in place of observation craft for long-range reconnaissance, and later he proposed using heavier bombers in this role. Arnold and many of his subordinates, however, were still thinking of the ground battle in terms of the slow tempo of 1918, for which preplanned fires based on aerial photographs would suffice. The combination of long-range reconnaissance relying on aerial photography also conveniently fit with the Air Corps’ doctrinal interest in the fixed targets of a strategic bombing campaign. Artillerymen, on the other hand, believed that modern combat required an observer who could identify targets and control tactical fire while he was in the air.
Artillery officers also were dissatisfied with available observation aircraft for a different but related reason. They wanted a rugged plane that could operate out of forward locations, which would facilitate cooperation with the firing battalions, provide longer loiter time over the front, and decrease the significance of an aircraft’s maximum range. In addition, from an artillery point of view, a slower plane was much more conducive to scrutinizing activity on the ground. The Air Corps emphasis on acquiring the fastest and most capable aircraft worked at cross purposes. The resulting observation planes were large, heavy, complicated machines that required sophisticated maintenance and a well-developed airfield, characteristics that mandated they be based well to the rear.
So, the artillery units finally got their L-4 light aircraft and lived happily ever after:
On 9 November 1942 three L–4s took off from the aircraft carrier Ranger to support the invasion of North Africa. Friendly fire caused the first to crash on the beach, while enemy antiaircraft fire brought down the second. The third plane reached its destination, an improvised landing field at a racetrack, but when the pilot took off on an observation mission, more friendly fire forced him to return. The Army had rushed the aircraft into the invasion force without the opportunity to train with the ground troops, who were prone to shoot first at any strange plane that might be a threat. Over the next several months intensive air-ground training solved that problem, but the next commitment of air observation posts to combat in southern Tunisia produced an even more disturbing result. During the entire campaign, artillery battalions conducted only one observed-fire mission using an L–4. Soldiers on the ground understood the reasons. The terrain—isolated hills rising from a flat plain—was ideal for ground observers, while the pop-up tactics taught at Fort Sill proved singularly unsuited in these circumstances. Only the forceful support of McCloy prevented the termination of the program at this point.
OK, after some reforms — they junked pop-up tactics in favor of extended aerial patrols — the program proved invaluable.