Isegoria

In his preface to The Soldier’s Load and the Mobilty of a Nation, Brig. Gen. USAR-Ret. S.L.A. Marshall argues that fear is exhausting — and exhaustion can lead to fear:

In July, 1918, I marched with my Regiment to the front on a balmy, starlit night and was astonished to see the strong men around me virtually collapse under the weight of their packs when we got to the fire zone after an 11-mile approach _on a good road. They had been conditioned to go 20 miles under the same weight in a broiling sun. Then some days later, after our bath of fire and burials were done, we shouldered the same packs, marched rearward 32 miles in one day and got to our billets with no sweat, feeling light as a feather.

I should have seen the lesson then. But to my juvenile mind the experience signified only that it is a lot easier to move away from a battle than to go into one, which any fool knows

[…]

Then in the Pacific War in early 1944, Major General Archibald V. Arnold gave me a tactical problem to solve. He wished to know why it was that in the atoll operations, if troops were checked three times by fire, even though they took no losses and had moved not more than a mile, their energy was spent and they could not assault.

[…]

After a wearing approach march and entrenching, two rifle companies went into perimeter on adjoining ridges. They were the same strength; the positions were about equal. Both units were dog tired. One commander ordered a 100-percent alert. The other put his men in the sacks and with a few of his NCOs kept watch. Thirty minutes later the Chinese attacked. The first company was routed and driven from its hill immediately. The second bounded from its sleeping bags, fought like tigers and held the position until finally ordered by battalion to withdraw.

Another incident is described in detail in The River and the Gauntlet. One company of the Wolf-hound Regiment was flattened when overrun by a Chinese brigade. The unit looked utterly spent. The brigade charged on to take position atop a ridge blocking the route of withdrawal for the regiment. The stricken company, after one hour in the sacks, was ordered to take the ridge. Even before the ascent started, every company officer was felled by fire. Without a break the survivors swept the slope and carried the crest.

If these episodes mean what they say, then some ofour security procedures when in the presence of the enemy need to he re-examined. Worn out men cannot fight or think. It is folly to press them beyond endurance when just a little rest will work a miracle of recovery.

[…]

Over a weekend I was with the Sixth Fleet off Sicily. On Monday, there was to proceed a two-battalion exercise, an attack by Marines on Sardinia, with the Navy doing its part. That Sunday morning, we gathered on the flagship and with Admirals Walter F. Boone and Charles R. (Cat) Brown present, the full-dress briefing prior to attack perforce went as smoothly as a Broadway musical in its second year.

At the end, Admiral Boone asked: “Any questions, General Marshall?”

I said: “Yes, one question. As I get it, the battalion attacking just after dawn gets in landing craft four miles out. The beach is defended at the waterline by about two companies, working heavy mortars and machine guns, along with small arms. Their bunker line is along that low-lying ridge 700 yards inland. The battalion will take that by mid-morning. It will then go on to that first high range, marked 1,500 meters, where the enemy artillery is based. By sunset these same men are supposed to assemble on the range beyond that one where they meet the battalion coming up from the west coast. Now have you told the troops that if this were war they would be doing well if that first line of low ridges were theirs by the end of the day?”

Boone was startled. He said to the two Marine commanders: “Is this true?”

They withdrew to consider the question, then returned to say: “We agree with him.”

Boone asked: “Then why are we doing it this way?”

Someone replied: “Any smaller plan wouldn’t give forces enough of a workout.”

I said: “Fair enough. But you have not answered my question. Have you told troops, staff and everyone else that the plan is far over-extended, that operations would not have this much reach if men were fighting?”

The answer was “No.”

I said: “That’s the hell of it. No one ever does. Out of such plans and exercises in peacetime, when no precautionary words are spoken, we recreate our own myths about the potential of our human forces. Then when war comes again, men who discovered the bitter truth the hard way are all gone. Voila, we’ve got to learn all over again.”

Posted in Fitness, War | 4 Comments »