Winning Battles, Losing Wars

"Americans traditionally love to fight. All real Americans love the sting of battle."
- Gen. George S. Patton

Football game days were a huge deal at Texas A&M. As a member of the school’s Corps of Cadets, it was the closest we came to battle. Patriotic music would blare from the open doorways of upperclassmen’s rooms, pumping up the troops for “battle”. The opening monologue from the movie Patton was a favorite motivating tool; by the time we fell outside to form up for the pre-game March-in, our blood was boiling red, white, and blue. We were eager to give all we had for God and country. When Desert Storm broke out, I actually thought about enlisting just to get to the action quicker, but I was less than a year from graduation and commissioning as an officer, so I wisely stayed put.

Americans have always done well in battle. From our earliest experiences in the Revolutionary War to the deserts of Iraq and the lonely windswept peaks and valleys of Afghanistan, Americans have reveled on the field of battle. The names of the battlefields are etched in reverent memory: Bunker Hill, Lexington, New Orleans, Veracruz, Antietam, Gettysburg, San Juan Hill, St. Mihiel, the Argonne, Sicily, Normandy, the Bulge, Guadalcanal, New Guinea, Iwo Jima, Okinawa, Inchon, Khe Sanh, Desert Storm, Afghanistan, and Iraq. We rarely lose battles; we have perfected the American Way of Warfare – win big, win fast, and lose the fewest casualties. We like the newest weapons, lots of firepower, and we like to meet our adversaries in classic force-on-force battles. We often glorify battle, on the big screen and on Main Street. It is our national pastime, the gridiron classic taken to the next level.

In military circles, there is even a name for the infatuation with battle: operational art. Simply put, operational art is the use of military forces to obtain strategic goals through the planning and execution of battles and engagements into campaigns and major operations. There is really only one problem with the concept of operational art: it lacks a true strategic focus.

According to Webster’s Dictionary, strategy is defined as "the science and art of employing the political, economic, psychological, and military forces of a nation to afford the maximum support to adopted policies in peace or war" (Emphasis added). Operational art views military force in isolation from the other instruments of national power. The reality of warfare is that all instruments must be brought to bear against an adversary, not just the military one. The Prussian military theorist Carl von Clausewitz said that war is the continuation of politics by other means, meaning that when diplomacy fails to achieve a solution, the reins of power are handed over the military to enforce a solution. And Clausewitz has long been revered in American military circles.

The strategic link in American politics is broken. The military should never operate in isolation from the other instruments of power, even during open warfare. Diplomatic, financial, economic, and other tools should be used in concert with military action to terminate hostilities at the earliest possibility on terms favorable to the national security objectives. If we annihilate the enemy on the field of battle, as in Iraq, there will be nobody to negotiate the terms of peace. And if we have no post-conflict plan for reconstruction, as in Iraq, we must start from the ground up to transform a conquered nation into a stable, functioning member of the family of nations.

In Vietnam, as in Iraq, we won every battle. Yet in Vietnam, we lost the war. During an exchange with a Vietnamese officer long after the war, an American officer pointed out that we had never been beaten on the battlefield. The Viet Cong had ceased to exist as a functional fighting organization and the North Vietnamese Army had been beaten so badly that it took two years after our withdrawal for them to ride into Saigon triumphantly. The NVA officer replied, “That may be true. It is also irrelevant.”

It turns out that the military has never won a war. The military wins battles; national strategy wins wars, even the granddaddy of American wars, World War II. If we had not followed up hostilities in Germany and Japan with an appropriate political solution, such as the Marshall Plan in Europe, we may have met on the battlefield again. After all, the failure of politics to secure the peace after World War I led to a redo 20 years later. If we screw up the follow through, we lose the war. And we are in grave danger of seeing history repeat itself; Iraq and Afghanistan may imitate Vietnam if we do not put the wheels back on the cart.

We cannot afford to lose Iraq and Afghanistan. Any politician that advocates for a quick withdrawal are either grandstanding for their constituents or don’t really understand the nature of the conflict. (And despite campaign promises to withdraw, President Obama is in no rush to act on that pledge). If we pull out, both countries will fall into a downward spiral of chaos and strife leading to regional instability that will eventually draw its neighbors into the abyss as well. And we will get the blame for it. Think we got a hard time from the international community for invading Iraq in the first place? Just wait until it is hell on earth and see how we get treated. After all, we invaded a broken nation and made it worse.

Let’s rebuild the bridge between the military and the other national instruments of power and fix the quagmire before it gets worse. There are solutions out there that don't involve more troops and an untold pot of taxpayer money. But these solutions will take time. I’ll attempt to detail some possible solutions for both Iraq and Afghanistan over the next few postings.

Of War and Peace

I go to war roughly once a month. Sometimes not even that.

It all depends on the airflow when my crew lands in Germany. Sometimes we go to war. Sometimes we go home. If all the planes are heading west, we get 16 hours off and then we head home.

During my last trip, we went to war.

Our mission was bound for Afghanistan, with an aerial refueling on the way down. We had a full load of cargo and as much fuel as we could carry. But it would not be enough to make it back, so we'd need the tanker and even a little more fuel from the airbase in Afghanistan.

It was quite a heavyweight takeoff out of Germany and the flight was uneventful until we arrived at our air refueling track. There was weather in the area - clouds, turbulence, and even some thunderstorms - but we managed to break out of the weather just above minimums in order to save us from diverting to an en route airfield for additional fuel.

I closed in on the tanker with blue sheets of St. Elmo's Fire dancing across the windscreen in front of my face. Even as I crept to within 50 feet of the tanker, occasional flashes of raw white electricity arced across the windscreen. But then as I pulled to within 12 feet of the tanker, it stopped, leaving me free to refuel without distraction. Seconds later, the tanker's refueling boom clunked into the refueling receptacle on the top of the plane and fuel began flowing into our tanks.

With enough fuel to continue our flight, we parted ways with the tanker and continued to our destination. As we crossed the Afghanistan border, we armed our aircraft's defensive systems, put on our flak vests, and placed armor plating in our seats. It was still dark when we arrived, but our night vision goggles allowed us to visually acquire the snow covered peaks of Afghanistan as we descended, our darkened aircraft all but invisible to prying eyes in the early morning hours.

It was a textbook landing and we taxiied to the ramp where our cargo was quickly downloaded. They had outbound cargo for us, so we had to determine if a safe takeoff was possible. The airfield lies in a valley ringed with jagged peaks, so it is imperative to get the weight and balance calculation absolutely correct. As heavy as we were, if we lost an engine, we would have very little climb performance to make it over the peaks.

Dawn came, revealing the magnificence of the Afghan mountains adorned in their winter splendor. If Afghanistan could wean itself from tribal warfare and its opium-based economy, it would have a goldmine as an extreme skiing destination. The amount of untouched powder and untracked bowls left the skier in me saddened for the lost opportunity.

We safely made the takeoff and the climb over the snowy peaks was uneventful. Soon, the war was behind us for another month. As the flak vests and armor was put away, our minds turned to the peace waiting for us in Germany.

But what of the peace for the people of Afghanistan? Or in Iraq? Should it be fair that my war lasts but three hours once a month? How about the American men and women fighting extremism down there on a daily basis? How can peace be obtained by all?

I'll try to answer these questions over the next few days.

Why We Need the F-22 Raptor

It was a long flight from San Diego to Germany - slightly over 11 hours en route with an aerial refueling off the coast of Newfoundland. People do different things to stave off boredom; reading is a common pastime among C-17 pilots, at least at cruise altitude. During this flight, I picked up a back copy of Aviation Week Magazine from last December.

Among the many stimulating articles, one piece in particular caught my eye, especially in light of the pending Defense Department budget cuts under President Obama's upcoming budget proposal. It has long been rumored that the F-22 Raptor, our newest air superiority fighter, is on the chopping block. It is a very expensive airplane, coming in around $137 million apiece. Its critics say that it is chiefly a single-role fighter and that the multi-role F-35, which is still in production, is a much cheaper and more versatile fighter than the operational F-22. In addition, they point out that in the war on terrorism, Al Qaeda is not challenging air superiority, and as such, there is no need for such an expensive and single-purpose aircraft to fight terrorism.

The critics are absolutely correct.

However, there is one overriding reason why the F-22 Raptor is needed: there is no other airplane like it in the world. Its purpose is to penetrate enemy airspace with a first-look, first-kill capability against multiple targets. The F-22 is a low-observable, stealthy, and highly maneuverable airframe, with highly advanced avionics and superior aerodynamic performance. It will give the United States a decided advantage over any potential adversary for years to come. It doesn't matter that it isn't the most useful airplane in the war on terrorism. The F-22 will give our nation leverage in military conflicts against traditional states in the future, as well as bolster our diplomatic efforts through the mere threat of force.

Let me explain that in a little more detail. We currently face no discernable aerial threats. The entire world has seen how quickly our air force dominates aerial combat. Nobody wants to go head-to-head with our air force - today. Who knows what threats we'll face in the next 10-20 years? At the end of World War I, we were allied with Japan. Twenty-three years later, we were on opposite sides of World War II. In twenty years, we had better have the weapon systems to counter the potential threats that another nation could pose to our way of life. If we send the F-22 to the Boneyard, we are effectively playing into the hands of our enemies - even if they aren't our enemies right now.

Which brings me back to the December Aviation Week article, Raising the Ante. The article states that Iran is buying the SS-20 air defense system from Russia to protect its fledgling nuclear sites. The SS-20 presents a deadly challenge to traditional fighters and bombers, such as the F-15 and B-1. Its range will keep most of our aircraft inventory more than 100 miles from any target protected by the surface-to-air system.

However, the F-22, with its all-aspect stealth capability, can safely operate within the engagement envelope of the SS-20 and its pending variant, the SS-21. But the cheaper and more versatile F-35 does not possess all-aspect stealth capability; it is vulnerable in its rear aspect, especially its engine exhaust region. The B-2 stealth bomber is also at risk, since, over time, small signature clues will eventually offer a firing solution for the SS-20.

If we jettison the F-22, then we will lose what little diplomatic coercion we currently have to hinder the Iranians' nuclear ambitions. Without the threat of force, diplomacy often fails. They will build their reactors and their weapons processing ability all under the protective envelope of the SS-20. We will have no means to counter nuclear proliferation in the region without a weapon system like the F-22, which is more than capable of performing a SEAD role - suppression of enemy air defenses - so more traditional platforms like the F-15, B-1, and other aircraft could effectively destroy the target.

I'm not arguing for war with the Iranians. But we need the threat of force to keep them in check. Modern defensive systems that deny us strategic and operational options in pursuit of our national objectives are a threat to the free world. Any nation that employs these air defensive systems can effectively thumb their noses at the world while continuing atrocities such as ethnic cleansing without interference. Syria is already expressing interest in the SS-20. It won't be long before Sudan and other repressive regimes follow suit.

Can we really put a price tag on our national security? We absolutely need the F-22.

Two Tales of a City

When I first heard that my planned 11-day trip would involve an overnight crew rest in San Diego, I was excited. San Diego is one of my favorite cities in the nation, if not the world. I have been there plenty of times over the years, and I was looking forward to a nice evening of dinner and drinks in the Gaslamp Quarter and a restful evening at a downtown hotel before our direct flight to Germany the next day.

Our departure out of our Seattle-area airbase was uneventful, despite some light icing encountered during our nighttime climb to our cruising altitude. Two and a half hours later, we landed at the North Island Naval Base, across the bay from downtown San Diego. While the loadmasters began loading the cargo for the next day's flight, the pilots went to base operations to figure out where we'd stay for the evening.

I started calling area hotels, but it was soon obvious that there was no room at the inn for us downtown; every hotel near the Gaslamp Quarter was booked. Realizing that we'd miss a nice evening downtown, we looked into staying on the navy base. However, it appeared that they were full as well, at least initially. They eventually offered us three rooms for the six members of my crew - meaning we'd have to share a double bed. We took a stand, and they soon found enough rooms for all of us - in a nearly empty building.

As I walked to my room, I saw the shimmering skyline just across the bay - so close, yet so far away. Who knew when I'd have another chance as a crew rest in San Diego?

The next day, we flew the long flight directly to Germany, where we sat for five days before we flew again. After an out and back flight to the Sandbox, we sat another five days in Germany, waiting for a mission going home. We were well over our planned 11-day trip - it was just a matter of time before we lined up with a jet bound for Seattle.

When our alert call finally came, we were in for a surprise: after a fuel stop in eastern Canada, we would land in San Diego for another crew rest before heading home the next day. After a long flight, we landed in San Diego just after sunset. But this time, we were ready. Somewhere over Canada, I had made a call on the airplane's satellite phone and booked six rooms at the Marriott in the Gaslamp Quarter.

Our second night in San Diego was 180 degrees from our first night. My hotel room overlooked Petco Park, home of the Padres. We walked the bustling streets of the Gaslamp Quarter, found a Mexican restaurant for a late dinner and margaritas, and ended our evening at a local watering hole. I had a nice rest, and even woke up early enough for a quick run and a coffee before our alert.

My faith had been renewed.