The relentless march of technology has never been lost on the U.S. military and often has been the cause for dramatic revision and occasional wholesale scrapping of military doctrine. Students of military history enthusiastically debate which innovation has had the most profound effect on warfare. Was it the breech-loading rifle, which allowed a soldier to reload his weapon from the prone position? Or was it the machinegun, which eliminated the need for single-shot accuracy by providing a blistering volume of fire? It may even have been the helicopter, which required the development of new tactics for vertical assault because of its ability to shower the landing zone from above with combat-ready troops.
Someday in the distant future, however, historians may review the annals of conflict and conclude that the most resounding change to the manner in which war is waged was caused by that unimposing device sitting on your desk: the computer. Twenty years of hardware and software development have brought exponential growth in computer technology, and the military has done well to capitalize on that growth. In general, a computer does things faster, more efficiently, and with greater accuracy than does a human with a pencil, a slide rule, and a pocket protector. A computer doesn't sleep, doesn't eat, doesn't complain, and, for the most part, never forgets. Volumes of information can be stored in minimal space. A computer can nestle in the nose cone of a missile, guiding it with precision to a target as small as the third-story window of a specific building, and it can store the lift data of an entire corps in its memory banks.
The military has embraced, invested in, and, perhaps unwittingly, sold its soul to the computer. Blinded by amazement over the computer's miraculous capabilities, we often overlook a lingering question: Can we ever fight again without it?
Technological Trends
Awestruck logisticians may have been led down a tenuous path by the misapplication of developments and the misinterpretation of their benefits. As a result, I see three technological trends in today's combat service support (CSS) community, each one a natural, harmless thing in itself, but potentially destructive when combined.
First, we have replaced "manual logistics" with technology. Gone are the days of number crunching and bean counting; systems do this for us now, and they do it faster and better. Computers have automated the loading of ships and planes, the requisitioning of supplies and equipment, and the tracking of transportation assets across the globe. Information systems have even begun to quicken the materiel acquisition process. Logisticians can save valuable time and money by using accurate estimates based on sound data that have been integrated and manipulated by a computer. In the combat environment, a well-founded estimate virtually ensures the right support at the right time at the right place.
The second technological trend in today's CSS community is the tendency of staff officers and commanders to make operational decisions based on computer-generated information. Of all the technological innovations, the availability of real-time information has had the most dramatic effect on the decisionmaking process. Commanders and staff officers now are able to quantify many battlefield unknowns and incorporate these figures into immediate decisions and future plans. In his July-August 1995 Army Logistician article, "Pipeline Vision for Force XXI," Major General Thomas W. Robison, then commander of the Army Combined Arms Support Command, wrote that, "Digitization will provide each logistics echelon with situational awareness of the maneuver commander's location and logistics requirements. The logistics community will be able to forecast where logistics supply distribution points and CSS facilities need to be in 24 to 48 hours." Current, accessible, and accurate information at the fingertips of planners will enhance the precision and economy of CSS.
The third technological trend in the CSS community is a natural follow-on to its predecessors: The training environment focuses increasingly on the system operator's proficiency at his keyboard tasks. With every leap in software capabilities comes the need for complementary skills in personnel. A system without a qualified operator is useless. The military's training emphasis must be placed first on teaching operators basic computer literacy, competency in operation of a particular system, and skill at higher levels of data manipulation. This training must occur within the limits of shrinking budgets and diminishing school seats. Then the military's training focus should shift to teaching the logistician how to make an information system work for him and to take action based on the output of that system.
Computers, however, might not be the panacea we've built them up to be. They are sensitive, vulnerable machines, easily susceptible to incidental and battlefield damage. They require a substantial and constant power distribution system and a communications network capable of transmitting data from the fighting field, across the communications zone, to the continental United States. The whims of nature can disable an entire system with heat, cold, dust, or moisture. An advanced enemy may have the ability to embed viruses in a network, causing infections at every node.
Perhaps the most frustrating of all vulnerabilities, however, is the computer's reliance on human input. A computer system accepts bad information as readily as accurate information. Heavy reliance on computer technology in planning and execution can be exacerbated by a heightened training focus on logistics systems rather than logistics skills. This inevitably leads to a costly result: a vulnerable support network managed by a generation of staff officers and logistics commanders who lack a solid foundation in CSS principles and their execution in combat. Outside the sterile environment of battle labs and simulation exercises, undertrained logisticians may find themselves at the mercy of their computer screens. The heated cauldron of warfare is no place to scramble about in ignorance when those screens go blank.
The Price of Technology
I believe that the CSS community's headlong rush to integrate computer technology into all potential aspects of support at the expense of developing skilled logisticians may leave us open to two dangerous possibilities.
First, we are threatened with timidity. Gone will be the courage to act boldly on an instinct that comes from a leader's close contact with the tempo of battle. The computer will select a course of action and tell us where to place our support and when to take action. If most of our faith is placed in the system and not in the skill, we will defer to the computer.
Consider, for example, the combat service support control system (CSSCS) discussed by Lieutenant Colonel Michael P. Kelley in his article, "CSSCS Proven in Support Operations," in the July-August 1995 issue of Army Logistician. With 17 CSSCS computers operating throughout the brigade, division support command, and division staff, this system is designed to process and disseminate critical logistics information from the brigade combat team all the way to echelons above corps. The CSSCS can maintain asset visibility, produce automated reports, manage transportation assets, and improve situational awareness. When fully functional, CSSCS will digitize the battlefield dramatically, and could "revolutionize" staff procedures and planning cycles.
But what would happen if those previously discussed vulnerabilities rendered the system ineffective, or a wily enemy capitalized on a breach in security? In the event that CSSCS goes down, even for a moment, logistics leaders must be capable of instantaneously shifting to an alternate means of maintaining seamless support to the combat commanders. Failure to do so would violate continuity, a vital logistics principle. The closer one gets to the fight, the more imperative continuous support becomes. If the logistician pins his hopes on a system, and that system crashes at the crucial hour, his only fallback will be his skills and those of his team members. Repeatedly taught, well-honed logistics skills will compensate for the loss of a system's capabilities. Fundamental, proven skills can combine with a deliberate understanding of the battle tempo to ensure continuity and uninterrupted support.
If leaders fail to teach, sharpen, and test such skills in peace, the skills will be tragically lacking in war. Creative logistics strategies and the strength of character to employ them will become things of the past. Tenacity, innovation, and the courage to take risks will fall victim to a blinking cursor. If logistics leaders do not develop strong, capable, and open minds in their subordinates, they will have discarded the finest weapon in our wartime arsenal.
The second potential hazard of imprudent integration of technology is a dwindling sense of leadership and accountability. If there is already a tendency to let the computer fight the battle and make critical decisions, then the computer has been given a disproportionate role in the hierarchy of command. If judgments are made based on information analyzed and manipulated by a system, it will be human nature also to blame that system for poor decisions or plans gone awry. A combat logistician who allows his tactical life to be dictated by a video display terminal has abdicated his responsibility as a leader. Instead of attempting the difficult or suggesting the unpopular, he can point to the computer and state with conviction that he acted in good faith and that the system let him and the unfortunate foot soldiers down.
The burdens of leadership and command must not be delegated to a system or a network. These responsibilities must be borne squarely on the shoulders of the leader. Accepting them involves the logistician in what is at stake, personalizes his recommendations to the commander, and makes him ultimately responsible for his words and deeds. There can be no compromise in this; warfare is far too deadly an endeavor for anything less than absolute leadership.
Judicious Integration of Technology
At this point, it may seem that my "technophobia" would dictate that the only acceptable weapon system for our arsenal is a smooth stone in a rawhide sling, but that is is not true. The benefits of technological innovations are undeniable. These innovations should be integrated wisely into military doctrine. But this integration must occur with respect for the skills it enhances, never at the price of replacing them. We teach hand-to-hand fighting in case the rifle jams; similarly, we must teach logistics skills in case the computer crashes. To neglect either of these fundamentals is to leave our people unprepared for combat, and that is a mortal injustice.
Technology must be incorporated with patience and wisdom. Its impact on the battlefield must be dissected and examined and its deficiencies exposed and overcome in peacetime. Personnel must be thoroughly versed in "the old way" of doing business before they can appreciate and benefit from a new system. Leaders must be developed in the most demanding and arduous of environments. Their hearts and minds must be molded and tempered for the brutal stresses combat will inflict upon them. Technology, no matter how amazing its capabilities, will never replace leadership, never outdate the rigid posture of command, and never replace the man who can think for himself. ALOG
Captain Stephen E. Reynolds, USMC, is the operations officer of the combat service support element of a special-purpose Marine air-ground task force which is experimenting with new concepts, tactics, and equipment. Captain Reynolds is a graduate of the Army Logistics Management College's Combined Logistics Officer Advanced Course.