Tag Archive for: Australian Army

Back to the future for the Army’s force structure debate?

An Australian Army vehicle lays a protective mat over the beach at Sabina Point prior to other vehicles coming ashore from HMAS Choules in Shoalwater Bay, Queensland, as part of Exercise Talisman Saber 2013.

I read with great interest a recent article by Paul Dibb titled ‘How to plan for [an] ADF without [a] territorial threat’. I am of the 1986 Dibb Report and subsequent Beazley White Paper generation. At Staff College in the early 90’s we pawed over every comma and full stop in those documents looking for some divine guidance. And of course I served in an Army that was very much shaped by those policy tablets.

Professor Dibb’s judgment about Army is dismissively short—just one sentence: it (a maritime strategy) demands a change to Army, with more focus on our Region of direct strategic concern.’ I would have hoped for something better, even allowing for the demands of newspaper editors.

However, it seems in 2015 we are back to the future. Does one conclude from that single sentence that there’s a need for a policy shift or does it suggest that Army’s force structure has been in some way warped by the last 15 years of operations and as a consequence of this apparent retro shift to a maritime strategy needs an urgent re-shape? If so—what?

I thought most defence thinkers in Australia have been talking about a maritime strategy since the early 90’s. Or does it mean that a recalcitrant Army has again failed to digest the critical elements of a maritime strategy and continued to pursue, as I have previously written, some heretical ‘heavy’ armoured force.

Army’s thinking demonstrated in its writing and rhetoric over the last 20 years has been framed around a maritime strategy. What, for heaven’s sake, are the Canberra-class LHD ships about if not to operate within and support a maritime strategy?

I fear that Professor Dibb’s article may echo the thoughts of the writers of the White Paper. If that’s so—sadly those who have drafted the policy advice to Government and recommended the consequential force structure priorities have not learned a thing from the last decade or so.

One hopes that the Minister’s recent comments which seem to reinforce a ‘steady as we go’ approach to defence policy isn’t the end of the intellectual investment by the new ministers.

The fundamental question above all is: does the Army’s force structure resulting from the White Paper process align with the Government’s intent and vision for Australia and its role in the world? If the continuous shipbuilding strategy results in an uncritical bias in defence spending which over the forward estimates creates an inherent imbalance in the ADF’s force structure the forthcoming White Paper like the last two should be condemned.

It’s worth repeating that a balanced force should be a ruler against which policy and capability decisions can be tested. The current air package deployed to the Middle East is a wonderful example. It’s self-reliant, balanced and capable—and importantly, of a scale that meets Australia’s means. Self-reliant because it can see, sustain itself, and shoot. Balanced because it has the force elements necessary to prosecute the tasks given to it by government—and not limited just to either seeing, or sustaining or shooting.

It’s capable because as a package it’s not a liability to others in the coalition but gives government a range of policy options over time based on policy grounds not capability deficiencies.

Those investment decisions aren’t easy, but let’s be clear: the Army has really lived off the operational funding it has received over the last decade or so to put the real edge on its current capability. A capability that has delivered much for successive governments both close to home (Professor Dibb’s region of direct strategic concern) or further afield. That edge isn’t funded and will therefore decay quickly.

Yes, there’s been some spending on new capabilities, but this in overall terms has been a replacement strategy which has held the army steady in relative capability terms. The underlying force structure remains fundamentally a ‘fitted for but not with’ force. That’s like an Air Force without EW self-protection for its aircraft!  If Army’s  capability enhancements are being progressively pushed further and further beyond the current forward estimate period the capability gap created will be increasingly more difficult to close. The gap must be  recognised and explicitly acknowledged by Government and then closely managed.

As I have asked before, why do we continue to have these type of discussions around Army’s force structure?

The explanation lies in the policy tension that still exists between Australia’s role as a ‘middle power’ and our national security . Simply put, the policy schools of thought are either a set of priorities based on a more global role for the country in world affairs, or the more traditional thinking which says we need to return to a narrower set of priorities closer to home.

Why does that matter to Army? Because the potential force structure options are different in some policymakers eyes. Closer to home is perceived as ‘lower risk’ and as a consequence later phases of LAND 400 can be shifted further right and the number and type of vehicles can be open to semantic debate. Army’s size and its harder edge can also be ‘worked’ to create the fiscal head room for other capabilities and expenditure priorities.

That’s where the new White Paper needs to be crystal clear. A retro maritime strategy isn’t about an ADF with a land force as a one line afterthought.

The last decade or so has demonstrated the nature of the tasks that are likely to arise for the Army over the coming decades. If the Government now sees this period as an exception then it needs to clearly articulate why this is the case and not just echo the views put forward by its policy advisors.

Explaining how Army modernises its principal capability: the soldier

Exercise Pozieres 2015

The locus of the Australian Army’s combat capability is the soldier—male or female, combat or combat support. While it would be fair to say that large-scale equipment platforms such as ships, submarines and aircraft are central to maritime and air power, the nucleus of Army’s contribution to the joint force is the ‘human platform’.

Army has crafted a simple, deliberate, tailored and balanced approach to perpetually modernise its principal capability. It’s underpinned by four pillars of logic.

First, Army defines the capability of its combat soldier via the Soldier Combat System (SCS). The SCS comprises the following six dynamic, interlinked sub-systems:

  1. Lethality – enabling our soldiers to employ lethal and non-lethal force.
  2. Survivability – ensuring Army’s ‘human platform’ can survive physical and psychological attack, while also withstanding adverse environmental conditions.
  3. Mobility – enabling the soldier to move and remain agile, irrespective of geography.
  4. Situational awareness – allowing the soldier to know and act more quickly than potential adversaries.
  5. Sustainability – keeping our people effective on the battlefield at all times, no matter the exigencies of their situation.
  6. Education and Training – giving our soldiers the means to transform equipment into capability.

To borrow Aristotle’s axiom, the ‘holistic value’ of these SCS sub-systems ‘is greater than the sum of their individual parts.’ However, these systems are, at once, interdependent and in competition with each other. Enhancing one invariably compromises another. Achieving an optimal ’sum’ is as much a science as it is an art.

By example, let’s say Army decides to increase the survivability of soldiers by issuing them a heavier, larger and more robust ballistic plate system. By enhancing soldier survivability, Army has prejudiced their mobility and sustainability. This trade off may have additional implications for the soldier’s lethality and situational awareness as factors such as fatigue and resupply come into consideration.

Second, Army equips its soldiers according to their ‘Tier’, of which there are three. Broadly speaking, Tier 1 Combatants perform niche tasks, such as combat diving or military free fall parachuting. Tier 2 Combatants fight either on foot in the dismounted role or while mounted in Armoured Fighting Vehicles (AFVs). Tier 3 combatants provide general support to combined arms teams. This tiering approach has nothing to do with a soldier’s status; rather, it allows Army to tailor combat equipment to the specific needs of its combatants.

How does this manifest? Tier 2 Dismounted combatants are now issued, will be issued or are testing tailored load carriage equipment, weaponry, target acquisition ancillaries, night fighting equipment, signature reduction devices, surveillance devices, clothing, boots and small vehicles. This kit will make them more lethal, survivable, mobile, sustainable and situationally aware than ever. Tier 2 Mounted and Tier 3 Combatants are increasingly issued or evaluating combat equipment specifically designed to best enable them to perform their various, and often unique, roles and tasks.

Army is also working closely with industry to deliver a new large assault pack that will likely fit 95% of Army’s female combatants. How does this compare to the large field pack issued since around 1994? According to Defence Science and Technology Group anthropometric data, the legacy pack fits none of Army’s females. Tier 2 Combatant marksman, commanders, infantry, combat engineers, joint fire teams and AFV crews will be provisioned with the Enhanced F88 rifle of varying lengths, bipods, day sights, night sights, thermal sights and target acquisition ancillaries. Why? Because the EF88 configuration optimised for combat shooting by Tier 2 Dismounts may not fit in an AFV gun rack—nor be required by Tier 2 Mounted soldiers due to the nature of their role as operators of armoured vehicles in a combined arms team. All of these variations have been deliberately tailored to meet the requirements of combatants performing specific roles and functions.

The third pillar is that the realities of the commercial environment impact how Army modernises its core capability. Technological maturity, commercial reliability, manufacturing capacity, affordability and world-wide demand shape what Army can realistically achieve in a suitable timeframe.

A perennial, and often vexing, modernisation necessity is the quest for constant improvement and the avoidance of obsolescence. The rate of technology advancement means that cutting-edge capabilities delivered today invariably lose their technical advantage as soon as tomorrow dawns. This is the world we live in. As individuals, we confront the same reality when the personal fixed-contract smart phone we acquire is outsmarted by the latest device.

It’s unrealistic to expect Army to be able to update most capabilities as quickly as many of us progress to the latest smart phone. However, what Army must do is constantly seek ways and means to either improve or replace current capabilities. Doing so mitigates the inexorable loss in capability advantage over time.

To address this existential issue, Army has built, ‘adaptive acquisition’ features into many of its soldier modernisation initiatives. This is the fourth logic pillar underpinning Army’s continuous modernisation of its cardinal capability. This approach ensures that the leading load carriage equipment, weapons, ancillaries, radios and human performance initiatives Army delivers in 2015 are not obsolete in 2025.

Army is constantly seeking to enhance the equipping, or modernisation, of its central capability, the soldier. In recent times, it has crafted a simple, deliberate, tailored and balanced, approach for modernising this principal capability. It’s working with other services and groups within Defence, as well as industry, to realise this modernisation effect on an enduring basis.

The Australian EF88: the best general purpose assault rifle available

Australian Army soldier from 7th Brigade prepare to assault the urban operations training facility as part of Exercise Diamond Strike, conducted in the Shoalwater Bay training area, Queensland, from 20-30 June 2015.

Some recent contributors to The Strategist have championed the M4 over the EF88. Army is satisfied with the M4 for select Special Operations Command combatants. However, there’s no such a thing as the ‘perfect weapon’.

A recent article in the The Atlantic reported that the M4 as ‘the rifle that today’s infantry uses is little changed since the 1960s—and it is badly flawed.’ Every weapon has trade-offs—the M4 and EF88 included. Army has great confidence in the EF88 as the best general purpose weapon system available.

The new generation EF88 is substantially lighter that its predecessor. Ergonomically, it possesses a much better centre of gravity than the F88. By virtue of its cheek weld and ribbed butt-plate, it allows far better purchase when firing from the shoulder—with or without body armour and helmet.

Trials have indicated its revised trigger guard have made the weapon much easier to employ during both deliberate and combat shooting. The fluted barrel, revised gas plug and folding cocking handle have also enhanced the handling of the weapon.

The EF88’s grenade launcher is side opening and is one of the lightest available commercially. The extended rails on the top and side of the weapon allow several configuration options based on the mission and the operator’s preferences. As for length, the carbine version is shorter than the M4 by some 60 mm and the grenade launcher version is some 38 mm shorter than the M4A1 equipped with a grenade launcher.

Without revealing commercially sensitive information, extensive testing involving the firing of around half a million rounds has confirmed that the EF88 is a superior weapon in terms of reliability and maintainability—obvious essentials on the battlefield. Numerous trials have confirmed the EF88’s superior accuracy and lethality—two features which will be exponentially improved with the imminent roll out of new, state-of-the-art target acquisition equipment recently approved by Government.

The selection of the EF88 negates the requirement to requalify the ADF in a new weapon system. Instead, Army has been able to invest this training effort in enhancing its combat shooting capability with the EF88. The ADF’s supply, support arrangements and facilities will readily absorb the transition from F88 to EF88—as will its current and emerging vehicle, aviation and amphibious platforms.

Army has a long-standing collaborative relationship with Thales, which is offering a dynamic growth path to ‘future proof’ the rifle. Some of the features of this growth path include: a discrete attachment that will allow ambidextrous firing; a suppressor; reality based training ammunition, independent firing of the grenade launcher; and a central power unit.

Army identified a range of important considerations when selecting the ADF’s new assault rifle. The first of these was the need to avoid retraining the ADF in a new primary weapon system—unless the capability benefits offered by a new system clearly outweighed this cost. Avoiding such a penalty would allow Army to focus its weapon training on advanced marksmanship and combat shooting, as opposed to qualifying on a new system. Furthermore, it would negate having to retrain the ADF’s small arms maintainers in a new fleet.

Second, Army needed to ensure that its supply, support and storage of the new weapon system didn’t degrade its enduring readiness requirements—or those of the other services. Restocking the entire supply chain with new weapons, parts, specialist tooling, building new facilities and ranges, investing in new ammunition contracts, while disposing of legacy fleets, is a significant undertaking that could unhinge some of the ADF’s key readiness requirements.

Third, Army recognised that no capability acquisition occurs in isolation. Selecting a new weapon system could create numerous integration issues across existing/emerging vehicle, rotary/fixed wing and amphibious platforms. Indeed, an imprudent acquisition decision could produce myriad adverse capability ramifications for decades.

Finally Army sought a supplier who was commercially and technically reliable and who would collaborate with Army in ‘future-proofing’ the weapon throughout its life span. In Army’s experience, capability development is best served by cooperative and trusting relationships between capability manager and manufacturer. Finally, let’s not forget that successive governments have astutely designated small arms as one of our nation’s Priority Industry Capabilities.

The EF88 is the most robust and best general purpose assault rifle available. It delivers the ADF a lighter, more ergonomic, modular, reliable, accurate and lethal weapon.

The F90: the obvious alternative isn’t so obvious

Leading Seaman Boatswains Mate James Pendergast takes aim with the F88 Austeyr on the flight deck of HMAS Choules.

As a young soldier I had the opportunity to see the Australian Army’s transition between rifles, from the venerable 7.62 L1A1 SLR to the 5.56 F88 Austeyr. And during my Army service I carried both, as well as the M16 A1 and A2.

In the transition from SLR to the F88 I saw the basic accuracy of the average Australian soldier increase rapidly and the number of accidental discharges rise at an alarming rate. I also got to see first-hand how the reality of a weapon system’s capability could be so quickly undermined by rumors and cultural resistance.

Now working in a think tank, my days of carrying assault rifles on military exercises or operations are long past. Regardless, I was somewhat surprised by Deane-Peter Baker’s December 2014 Strategist contribution on the F90 (the latest version of the F88) and his more recent perspective that the selection of the F90 ‘defies the logic of military effectiveness’.

While I have no personal preference for either the F90 or the M4, I advocate that there’s no such thing as a perfect rifle and that Deane’s assessment of the Austeyr needs further expansion. So I think it’s appropriate to present an alternative perspective to the assertion that the AR-15/M4 family of rifles are the obvious alternative.

One of the long standing ‘golden rules’ of military rifle handling drills is that the operator should never remove their master hand from the pistol grip; doing so renders the operator unable to fire their rifle, if only for a few precious seconds—and all seconds are precious in combat. Unfortunately the design of the M4 and all M16/AR-15 family variants demands that when the rifle jams, the operator is required to remove the master hand to operate the cocking handle; the Austeyr does not.

The bullpup design of the Austeyr has the rifle’s ejection port toward the rear of the trigger, and the M4 toward the front. The Austeyr has its cocking handle on the side of the rifle, while the M4 has its on top of the rifle. When a jam occurs in the Austeyr’s mechanism, the operator is able to remedy it without moving out of cover making it a design more suitable than the M4 for modern combat.

The ergonomic F90 design, including its oversized trigger guard, provide both the large and small operator the opportunity to adopt a range of alternative handling positions. The M4’s cut down shape, whilst affording the operator an adjustable length of pull offers only limited alternative holding positions.

In both of his Strategist pieces Deane has provided an interesting commentary on shooting around cover from the operator’s non-dominant side. While the F90 addresses the functional ejection problems of doing this with a new case deflector, the practicalities remain extant. Very few people are ambidextrous and even fewer still are able to effectively employ a weapon from their non-dominant side. While having the utility to do so is a benefit it isn’t arguably a key factor for rejecting a weapon system.

My final point relates to the economic logic of selecting the AR-15/M4. The AR-15 was built in 1959 and the M16 entered service in 1963. It has been subject to numerous upgrades and developments since then. But there should be little surprise that the M4, the latest model, is reaching the end of its service life. It makes little economic sense for Australia to invest in a weapons system with a short service life. I would argue that the enhancement of the Austeyr in the medium term, until the next generation of assault rifles begins to enter service, makes perfect economic sense.

The use of the M4, and other weapons, by the Australian Special Forces highlights the pragmatic manner in which the Australian Defence Force approaches the capability requirements of various units. The M4 in some circumstances offers advantages for the Special Forces soldier especially in water based operations. But a good rifle for Special Forces doesn’t necessarily make a good rifle for conventional forces.

As I said at the start, I have no strong preference for either the F90 or the M4. But I don’t believe that ‘the M4 beats the F90 hands down’. Nor do I support Deane’s assertion that there’s no other alternative to the M4. Indeed from an economic and functionality purpose the ADF selection of the F90 seems to make perfect sense.

Sizing up military effectiveness

The first female Regimental Sergeant Major at the 1st Recruit Training Battalion Warrant Officer First Class Trudy Casey. Photo by: Lance Corporal Mark Doran Caption:Imagine you’ve joined the military, and are being issued your uniform and gear. The surly man behind the counter shoves a pile of stuff at you, including two pairs of boots, and tells you to move on. You see that the boots are not your size, so you object. ‘We treat everyone the same here,’ is the response. ‘Stop complaining and move on.’

That would be absurd, wouldn’t it? Giving everyone the same sized boots would just be daft, if for no other reason than it would undermine the effectiveness of the force. The military would never do something so silly, right? Wrong. The fact is that the ‘one size fits all’ approach is rife—admittedly not for boots, but for all sorts of equipment that matters.

The ‘we treat everyone the same’ justification is particularly common—and pernicious—in the case of female members of the military. The use of this supposed ‘standard of equality’ is often just not properly thought through, or else is a disguised way of saying ‘women don’t belong here, they don’t match up’. But the idea that having women in the military inevitably involves lowering standards confuses gender blindness for gender neutrality.

The military has been a male-dominated profession for so long that it’s sometimes difficult to see that what seem like neutral standards are in fact very much male-centric standards. Genuine gender neutrality starts by focusing on what military effectiveness actually entails and works backwards to equip and enable both men and women to achieve those outcomes, even if that means that in some respects men and women are equipped differently or even trained differently. (The current approach equips and trains in accordance with flawed proxies for military effectiveness that have come to be largely taken for granted.) And a more nuanced and sensitive approach shouldn’t end at gender lines: body size, body shape, and left or right handedness are just a few more of the differences that characterise human beings that ought to be taken into consideration in an ‘outcomes based’ approach to military equipment and training. What does that mean in practice? I’ll just mention three examples: backpacks, body armour and rifles.

It’s probably not escaped your attention that male and female bodies are shaped somewhat differently. Many backpack manufacturers offer packs designed to match female physiology, with shoulder straps designed to reflect women’s narrower shoulders, hip-belts curved to follow the shape of a woman’s hips, and so on. Yet military-issue backpacks, including those used in the ADF, are of a standard design and are issued regardless of the troop’s gender. Sure, they’re adjustable, but a woman isn’t simply a small-statured man! A pack that takes male physiology as its start and end point is unlikely to be an optimal fit for a female.

Likewise with body armour. Despite becoming a standard part of individual military equipment in the US for around four decades, it was only last year that the US Army became the first military force in the world to announce that body armour designed with the female form in mind would be introduced, as part of their new ‘Soldier Protection System’ (SPS). Decades late, but at least they got there, right? But wait; industry reports indicate that the revised requirements for the SPS have, in fact, dropped the requirement that a ‘female fit’ version of the body armour be produced. So once again we’re back to ‘we treat everyone the same here’. And again private industry is showing us what ought to be—Tyr Tactical has recently announced the launch of its new body armour system which is available in both male and female cuts.

One last example: rifles. I’ve addressed this issue previously, but it seems worth reiterating that the F88 Austeyr is a classic case of ‘we treat everyone the same here’. I recently observed some members of the ADF undergoing combat-focused firearms training. Among the 12 trainees under instruction there was one particularly tall male and one small-statured female, both of whom struggled to employ the F88 effectively due to the fact that the length of the rifle is not adjustable (unlike the AR-15/M4 family of rifles used by the US military and Australia’s special forces). I cringed at the awkwardness on display as the trainees practiced shooting around cover from their non-dominant side. This is difficult enough in general, without having to also deal with the F88’s propensity to eject scalding hot brass into the shooter’s face. The ‘enhanced’ version of the F88 now entering service goes some way to addressing this, though it’s a solution that remains less than ideal. But the length of pull issue has not been addressed, and indeed, given the basic design of the rifle, cannot be addressed. That Defence has continued to pour money into tweaking what is fundamentally a design unsuitable for modern combat defies the logic of military effectiveness. Given that the obvious alternative, the AR-15/M4 family of rifles, could be purchased for significantly less, it also defies economic logic. That’s a fact that hasn’t escaped our cousins across the Tasman Sea—the NZDF has announced that it’s joining the growing number of military forces which are ditching their Steyrs for AR-15 pattern rifles.

The ADF stands with most militaries in developed countries in its approach to dealing with difference among the men and women who serve in its ranks, but that’s nothing to be proud of. We should be doing better. One might hope that if the moral imperative to rethink this issue isn’t compelling to those who make the decisions, then at least the drive for military effectiveness might be.

Beyond 2017: Army’s amphibious destiny

HMAS Canberra

There is little to argue with in Beyond 2017: The Australian Defence Force and Amphibious Warfare by Ken Gleiman and Peter J Dean. It’s soundly thought out, well written, and concludes with a number of important recommendations, most of which the ADF would be wise to adopt. As a meal, it would fall into the category of comfort food—reassuring and familiar. That’s my problem with it.

I must admit that my first reading of Beyond 2017 did leave me replete, if I may be permitted one last culinary metaphor. Yet the more I thought about the paper the more dissatisfied I became. I concluded that this was because the option the authors recommended for Army’s amphibious development pathway—the Fourth Way—is simply a merger of proposals already under consideration. Gleiman and Dean have played it too safe.

I fear that none of the four options for Army’s amphibious development discussed in Beyond 2017 will lead to the ADF’s possession of an effective capability. Rather, they will provide an illusion of progress without real achievement. Instead of the Fourth Way, I propose two additional options that can lead to an effective amphibious capability.

My Option Five calls for the raising of an Army-owned Marine Brigade. A brigade of Australian marine soldiers would provide the Government with a landing force that’s acclimatised to life afloat and optimised to conduct entry from the sea. The degree of commitment from the organisation, the amount of training from the marine force, and the specialist equipment required, shouldn’t be trivialised by accepting anything less. Amphibious operations are the most difficult mission a military force can undertake, tasks that will only become harder and riskier as modern anti-ship and sea denial weapons proliferate. If the Australian Government wants Army’s amphibious force to be able to operate across the ‘spectrum of contingencies’ only a dedicated force can achieve the required level of training and sophistication to be effective, as well as the necessary integration with supporting arms. Further, Army’s marine contingent must be brigade-sized at minimum if it’s to be sustainable and accommodated in Plan BEERSHEBA’s force generation cycle.

Admittedly, however, raising a Marine Brigade isn’t a trivial matter. It can’t be done within Army’s current force level of 30,000 plus soldiers. Nor is cannibalising one of the existing brigades wise as this would introduce unacceptable risks elsewhere in Army’s ability to meet and sustain Government-directed requirements. In the Australian Army, the establishment for a brigade is approximately 3,600 personnel, not including the essential enablers that are added for a mission. Even if Army was to roll 2 RAR, its amphibious-designate battalion, into the Marine Brigade, it would still be necessary to raise Army’s personnel ceiling by at least 10%. More enablers, including helicopters and other specialist equipment, would also need to be acquired and staffed. A Marine Brigade is a significant and expensive undertaking, but becoming amphibious can’t be done on the cheap.

If the Government recoils from the considerable cost of raising a Marine Brigade, I maintain that the next best option is to accept that the ADF can’t conduct amphibious operations across the full spectrum of conflict. Option Six would see the ADF’s amphibious ambitions narrowed to HADR or missions where the insertion of the land force is limited to a benign environment (lift and lodge). Of course, as is noted in Beyond 2017, those are the most likely missions anyhow.

If Army is unable to develop an amphibious assault capability, this shouldn’t be seen as an admission of failure. Instead, barring the building of a much larger and more robustly equipped land force, it’s an admission of reality. Accepting this would also allow Army to focus its limited resources on an achievable goal at which it could excel.

It would be interesting to explore how Army arrived at this difficult situation in the first place. When the ADF began the investigation into the replacement of Kanimbla and Manoora, the process started with the type of ship required, and we now have the much more capable Canberra and Adelaide. However, starting with the ships was a mistake. Although the term ‘amphibious operations’ may bring forth a vision of a ship, it’s the landing force that really matters. After all, the purpose of the ship is to manoeuvre the land force in the maritime space so that it can achieve the desired effect ashore. That’s the essence of maritime strategy, or to borrow Edward Grey’s words, ‘The…army should be a projectile to be fired by the…navy.’

The next time the ADF considers an amphibious assault capability, the starting point shouldn’t be the ships to be acquired but the size and type of land force required. Once the land force requirements are identified, and their funding provided, only then should the ADF decide upon the ships. The ship should be designed around the land force, not the other way around. This would be a different approach, but it would mean that the land force, the whole point of amphibious operations, wouldn’t be merely an afterthought.

Is the environment dangerous? Or is that the enemy?

An Afghan summer storm breaks over a 1st Mentoring and Reconstruction Task Force Bushmaster Protected Mobility Vehicle during operations in the Baluchi Valley, southern Afghanistan

At ASPI’s Army Future Force Structure Conference the week before last, one theme was particularly recurrent: the ‘operating environment’ that the army is now working in is increasingly dangerous. In particular, we frequently heard that lethal weapons such as improvised explosive devices (IEDs) and RPGs necessitated much higher levels of protection in the next generation of vehicles being procured under project LAND 400. After years of hard and dangerous work in Afghanistan and Iraq, this sounds hard to argue with. Especially if you think of those threats as part of the environment.

Therein lies the problem. If large IEDs and anti-armour RPGs are a permanent immutable character of the landscape like sand, hills, wind or rain, then they’re fundamentally inescapable, predictable and enduring, and we must withstand them. But in reality, they’re actually the tactics and technology of a determined enemy who we should be trying to defeat. If IEDs are part of the environment, rather than weapons of the enemy, you’re always going to favour protection over mobility and firepower. We’re basically saying it’s rainy outside, bring a raincoat. But we can’t fight the rain, or persuade it to desist, or cut of its supply, or remove it from its support base, or anything else we might hope to do to defeat insurgents or terrorists like the Taliban, IS or al Qaeda.

It’s sounds almost as though we’ve given up on winning, and hence resorted to tactics (and technology) of survival in a difficult environment, rather than victory over an enemy. Sadly, no amount of protection will ever be enough to ensure that we ‘survive the first hit’, as the objective was described last week. While rain and hail can be surprisingly heavy, we still have a comfortable upper-bound. Not so for IEDs, where a bigger bomb will always be possible—and ultimately lethal. Unlike sailing adventures or mountaineering, a survival narrative in warfare shouldn’t be enough on its own. It has to be part of a narrative that includes a possible victory. Allowing the enemy to blend into the environment conceptually as well as physically doesn’t help with that at all.

Lest I be drawn into accusing the Army of choosing big and heavy armoured vehicles on the basis of a defeatist ‘survival’ strategy, it’s worth pointing out another force at play in vehicle acquisitions. Several officers at the conference pointed out that much of our armoured vehicle fleet, particularly the M113, was designed over half a century ago. The other services have had several generations of ships and planes in this time, and the Army is increasingly desperate for anything that’s better than what they currently have. They’ve done the bulk of the operations, so why should they have the fewest capital upgrades? As one put it, the answer to any LAND 400 question is yes. Tracks? Yes. Wheels? Yes. 20 tonnes? Yes. 30 tonnes? Yes. 30mm cannon? Yes. 25mm cannon? Yes. No-one is willing to say no to anything for fear of appearing difficult to please, and winding up left for even longer with what they already have.

But that doesn’t diminish the probability that we’ll wind up with something sub-optimal. We’re still likely to end up with a vehicle optimised to withstand a specific common attack, and not optimised to win a campaign as a whole. Mobility has been sacrificed. Major General Gus McLachlan acknowledged that the new CRVs wouldn’t be ‘C130 transportable’, and wouldn’t be able to swim as the ASLAVs do.

Size is increasing too; one officer lamented to me that all the Combat Reconnaissance Vehicle (CRV) choices on offer were bigger in profile (hence easier to target) than most of the Main Battle Tanks of WWII. He’d rather have a good chance that the first shot misses and return fire before the second comes than present an easy target and survive the hit. My feeling is that the environmentalisation of the threats has possibly trumped concerns like these. If the environment is rainy, you need a raincoat first. Other tools for the job come second.

Overall, the preponderance of the ‘survival’ narrative in a dangerous ‘environment’ is probably a good cause to question the nature of the tasks we ask the Army to perform. As was frequently repeated at the conference, the Army seeks to provide ‘options to government’. But shouldn’t those options always include victory? If we intend to put soldiers in harm’s way, they ought to be equipped to operate in their environment and defeat their enemy. Those two are different. If the enemy is now the same as the environment, we’re close to admitting we never intend to defeat them in the first place. Simply being present to endure the attacks of an enemy we aren’t willing or able to defeat isn’t an ‘option to government’ that the army should optimise its structure to provide.

Army: slouch hat plus jointery

Slouch Hat

The Australian Army has to do more than fight. It must carry a legend and serve the slouch hat mystique.

The mythology’s a century old and is as much a part of the Army as its iconic hat.

As WWI ended in 1918, C.E.W. Bean, promised a ‘history to crystallise for all time the greatest incident in Australian history – the first revelation of the Australian character.’ Bean delivered; his history of Gallipoli, Ken Inglis declared, was the Australian Iliad.

Sixty years later, T.B. Millar’s magisterial Australia in Peace and War could judge that the Army’s performance in WWI ‘saw Australia grow and gain coherence and confidence as a nation, acquiring myths and traditions which are part of the equipment of nationhood.’ That war and the conflicts which followed, Millar wrote, ’emphasised both dependence and independence in Australia’s international relationships: dependence based on habit and fear, independence based on brashness or self-reliance, all four qualities being part of the Australian make-up.’

In his pioneering Australia’s Defence, published in 1965, Millar found the diggers immortalised by Bean still marching: ‘In two world wars and the Korean War, Australia’s soldiers carried a reputation not so distinctly bestowed on her sailors and airman, and broadly but not wholly deserved – a reputation for independence, for initiative, for poor discipline and hard drinking off duty, for determined and skilful fighting in battle.’

We ask a lot of our Army. They are to be military professionals able to match a template of the national character. Today’s soldiers are to be well-trained regulars who honour the character traits of earlier civilian volunteers—the profession of arms with a larrikin pedigree. This is the mix the chief of Army, Angus Campbell, is reaching for to build ‘a great Army, worthy of its ANZAC heritage, suited for the demands of current and future operations.’ And the Prime Minister, Tony Abbott, hits the same note: ‘It’s a very different armed force today, but with the same values at its core.’

Both were speaking at ASPI’s conference on the Army’s future. So history is agreed, now to write the future. (This is a reversal of the old Soviet Union joke: The future is certain, comrade, it is only the past that is unpredictable.)

Part of the dissonance in crystal-balling for the Army is that those khaki definers of the national character aren’t actually in the front line in defending the continent. Oz strategy since Vietnam has decreed that the Navy and Air Force do that job. The eternal cycle of argument about Australia’s expeditionary tradition versus the defence-of-Oz strategy is more than Army wrangling over resources and alliance commitments. It’s also about where legend sits amid today’s defence planning.

As Michael Clifford observes, there’s a policy tension ‘between Australia’s role as a “middle power” and our perceived national security priorities. The current Government seems to favour a more expansive global role for Australia’s defence force compared with a narrow, more traditional regional focus.’

The Prime Minister set some new security priorities by making his big ‘announceable’ at the Army conference a commitment to Oz shipbuilding. A lot of dollars will flow from the promise for ‘a continuous build of major surface warships here in Australia to avoid the unproductive on-again, off-again cycle that has done this industry so much damage.’

The Abbott Government might have been at the wheel when the Oz car industry crashed, but it’s leaping to the budget pumps to keep the ship industry afloat.

In the perpetual Canberra contest to decide winners and losers, mark this a significant moment for what a Labor government would call ‘industry policy.’ It may be 30 to 40% more expensive to build naval ships in Oz, but the Coalition can embrace it as defence policy. Continuous build means continuous cash; more ships and a younger fleet for the Navy.

But, what is Army talking up as it surveys the future? What’s the message of the moment and what’s falling off the page?

Turning the Army into Marines seems to be a fading meme. The Australian Army’s heart is just not in that marine force stuff. But the old favourite Jointery (joint operations by Army, Navy and Air Force) made a strong showing.

Talking about the US military achieving an enduring presence west of the international dateline, the commanding general of the US Army, Pacific, General Vincent K. Brooks, highlighted the multiple benefits of getting ‘a joint force with multiple options.’

Amen, says the Australian Army. The Chief of Army got quite passionate in expressing ‘profound commitment’ to the value, indeed, necessity of Jointery. General Campbell predicted that historians will look at this decade as a ‘tipping point in building joint forces.’

The ADF has been chanting about Jointery a long time. It became the official religion in the first Defence White Paper in 1976, with its opening pronouncements on Australia’s defence requirements; ‘…we believe that any operations are much more likely to be in our neighbourhood than in some distant or forward theatre, and that our Armed Services would be conducting joint operations as the Australian Defence Force.’ In the Jointery hunt for nearly 40 years yet the Chief of Army thinks we’re only now nearing a cresting moment. As the voice says from the back seat, ‘Are we there yet?’

Australian military Jointery is short of being able to pass the Hartzog test of connectivity and coordination: the ability to get one rifle bullet, one artillery shell, and one Hellfire missile to all hit the same moving target simultaneously.

The blunt answer on Jointery is that there are many miles still to go, Army has a battle-management system that speaks Hebrew, and Army has spent seven years teaching its French-speaking helicopters to respond to Anglais d’Oz.

And Army’s head of Modernisation and Strategic Planning, Major General Gus McLachlan, told the conference that having two battle management systems is less than perfect. But looking on the bright side, it certainly offers added redundancy. Little wonder General McLachlan said the motto for buying the digital future is ‘open architecture’, so all our military kit can actually communicate.

On the jointery and networked quest, the Army says it’s on a route march from being an analogue force to a digital player. More history to make. More tipping points to come.

The future of Australian land operations

LTGEN Angus Campbell

In my role to lead and prepare an Army to serve its nation, my career experience has developed in me a profound commitment to the value, indeed the necessity, of joint, inter-agency, coalition and allied operations, as the best and most sustainable way to pursue our nation’s interests.

This is because of the extraordinary skills, and potential for greatness, resident within our people, especially when we team across the boundaries of a diverse national and regional community.

The Army has an important contribution to make to this team, bringing many unique and useful capabilities. Important, although not always preeminent; context is all.

Unsurprisingly, as a Chief of Army, I am not an adherent to the false god of ‘high tech war’, that declares armies redundant, so banal is this analysis. Lieutenant General HR McMaster speaks in his usual compelling manner on this topic in his recent essay, Change and Continuity: the Nature of Future Armed Conflict.

Like all of you I dread war, and would welcome quick, clean, bloodless, decisive clashes, but when Shakespeare wrote, ‘Cry Havoc! And let slip the dogs of war’, he reminded us that these dogs, elsewhere alluded to as Famine, Sword and Fire, have a will of their own.

A war started is not necessarily a war ended; home by Christmas an illusion. War can slip readily out of the control of any of its belligerents. On land, at sea or in the air, cyber and space domains, war can all too easily spill over the convenient boundaries and timelines we so desire of it. An adversary on the defensive is an adversary looking for another domain in which to attack. This violent clash of wills doesn’t necessarily end when or how we choose.

In the deeply human and political tragedy that is war, in the last resort, violence often comes to a dramatic, exhausted or lingering close on land, because that is where we live.

However, this is no easy pass, the Australian Army should always be able to explain to the government and the people its role and utility, within a wider team effort, in defence of our nation and its interests.

Army’s priorities are:

  • support to operations: because it’s why we exist;
  • support to our wounded, injured and ill: because it’s the right thing to do and it rebuilds lives and human potential, for Army and Australia;
  • modernisation of the Army: because I want to ensure our people have the best chance of coming home; and
  • cultural renewal: because ethical soldiers working as a team are our most powerful weapon.

Today, I am going to concentrate on the third priority, modernisation. But before I do, let me make a few comments about the others.

Support to operations is obvious but has many deep implications. We fight joint, certify and deploy joint, command and control joint, increasingly employ joint doctrine and many of the most powerful asymmetric effects we can apply are uniquely joint. And these joint forces team with interagency, coalition and allied partners.

Recent adjustments to organisational and command arrangements within the ADF, announced in the First Principles Review, reflect the importance of strengthening the centre and enabling next steps in our joint development. I am very excited by the possibilities for the ADF of these changes and suspect historians will look back on this decade as the ‘tipping period’ in building joint forces characterised by deep environmental expertise.

The Australian Army’s 2014 Future Land Warfare Report, identified five trends that will likely shape future war: crowded, connected, lethal, collective, and constrained, these trends are also converging. These are not simply big or pervasive changes—they broadly outline our future operating environment and will transform the ways we think, operate, cooperate and contribute as an army.

The Army doesn’t and shouldn’t have the luxury of choosing the type of war or security operation in which we might become involved. That is a decision for government. But we have to structure for and be competent in land joint war fighting, our unique contribution to national capability. Everything else we might be called upon to do is less difficult.

Today we see terrorism, intra-state conflict, great power positioning, state instability, humanitarian assistance and disaster relief all at play and all affecting Australia or its interests.

Because of life’s inherent uncertainties, I want the joint force to be as capable as we can afford, and I’m delighted at the quality of the air and naval forces Australia is building. We will always be stronger working together.

Our modernisation effort supports Army’s contribution to a broad range of operations. The following are three examples of issues we might consider in how Army does so:

First, the Army contributes to developing Australia’s key international security relationships, building confidence, and promoting common strategic understanding and interests. The Defence White Paper is likely to reinforce the importance of this ADF role and I look forward to working with our partners throughout the Indo Pacific Region, to align effort, build capacity and enhance cooperation.

Second, the Army contributes to deterring, and if required, defeating coercion of, or attacks on, Australia and its interests, particularly access to trade and commerce, the lifeblood of an island continent. This includes denying an enemy the freedom to operate within our extended approaches.

The ability of our Army to contribute to a strategic deterrence effect as part of our maritime strategy will increase with the development of an amphibious capability centered on two Landing Helicopter Dock ships. How Army, as part of a broader team, might support a maritime posture and the potential for the Army to contribute to access and area denial in the approaches to Australia needs also to be carefully considered.

Third, the Army makes a substantial contribution to the headquarters that might be expected to lead operations aimed at assisting or maintaining the stability of states within our extended approaches.

In the next 10 years, the Army will see substantial investment in protection and mobility, with projects focused on mission command systems, the introduction of protection from blast for our fleet of light, medium and heavy trucks and the replacement of our combat reconnaissance vehicle and armoured personnel carrier.

These projects combine to deliver vehicles that are more than replacements for their predecessors—they provide protected weapon systems, which are also a hub for communications, information, sustainment and fire support, enhancing the capacity of a ground force to absorb surprise and achieve tactical success in an era of democratised lethality.

Understanding the broad parameters of future land warfare environments, and the operating concepts applicable to them, can produce valuable insights to focus our development and enhance the Army’s strategic utility and tactical effectiveness in the defence of our nation and its interests.

This post is an edited version of the speech Lieutenant General Angus Campbell delivered at the ASPI Army’s Future Force Structure Options Conference on 25 June 2015.

Russia’s Victory Day Parade and LAND 400

An Abrams M1A1 Tank provides intensive fire support while assaulting an enemy position during Exercise Chong Ju.

The thunder of armour heralded the march of the Immortal Regiment on 9 May in a gratuitous display of Soviet-esque pomp and power. For international audiences, the Victory Day message was clear:  Russia stands unbowed by current sanctions, international opinion and volatile oil prices, and continues to plough money into military modernisation.

Back in Australia, the LAND 400 team in the Department of Defence watched the official unveiling of the Armata universal combat platform during the march with great interest. Armata has been an ambitious and expensive Russian project to deliver a common chassis platform to replace their aging armoured vehicle fleet. Given its shared Armata chassis design, the T-15 Infantry Fighting Vehicle is expected to tip the scales at a hefty 40 tonnes. It’ll offer a level of protection unmatched by current infantry fighting vehicles thanks to its mass and advanced armour design.

The impetus for the replacement of Russia’s vehicles was not to conduct sweeping tank battles across Europe but to plug the capability gap identified at the hands of Chechen guerrillas in the 90s. The Kremlin have been forced to learn some hard lessons in the design and employment of armour. The First Battle for Grozny in 1994 and and the second in 1996 demonstrated the vulnerabilities of unsupported armour in an urban environment. The engagements crystallised the Russian understanding of what’s needed to compete in a contemporary operating environment: protection first, mobility next and lethality last.

The short-range antiarmour weapons that wreaked havoc on armoured convoys in Grozny is touted to have been countered with the development of Active Protection suites such as the Afghanit and Malakhit Explosive Reactive Armour which protect vehicles by disrupting or destroying munitions before they penetrate. Crew survivability has been addressed by a radical design change in placing the engine forward to provide additional protection on the frontal arc. The 30mm cannon is the same weapon system found on the Kurganets-25, however, there’s a clear future growth path to the developing AU-220M remote controlled 57mm cannon. The T-15 also carries four of the capable Kornet anti-tank guided missiles. Another significant variation to standard design is the inclusion of a completely unmanned turret which reduces the crew requirement from three to two.

For LAND 400, the unveiling of the T-15 means that the bar for protection and mobility has been set—and set high. Phase 3 of LAND 400 (Mounted Close Combat Capability) will acquire Infantry Fighting Vehicles and Manoeuvre Support Vehicles. Infantry Fighting Vehicles lift infantry soldiers and support the M1A1 Main Battle Tank as a part of the combined arms team that conducts sustained joint LAND combat. Grozny demonstrated that groups of small, relatively unsophisticated non-state actors have the ability to inflict significant damage on ill-prepared and ill-equipped conventional forces. The ADF must be prepared to operate in an urban context, on continental Australia and within our region. The Army must have the ability to survive and defeat the threat posed by short-range, anti-armour weapons, or face the prospect of unacceptable losses of personnel and material.

From about 2025, LAND 400 Phase 3 will replace Army’s current M113 AS4 armoured personal carrier fleet; a fleet that neither meets the capabilities of Plan Beersheba nor the requirements listed in the 2013 Defence White Paper. Acquiring a platform that can be deployed by air and sea and operate successfully in a crowded, connected and lethal environment will be a challenge. There are many excellent Military Off the Shelf (MOTS) vehicles on the market that have a proven operational record and the potential to accommodate future capability improvements. It will require a significant investment by government to realise a vehicle that provides the necessary protection, firepower and mobility for our soldiers to operate as part of a joint or coalition military force. But it will be an essential investment for a defence force required to offer viable military options where government identifies Australia’s interests are at stake in an increasingly uncertain region.

Australia finds itself in an unenviable position, balancing fiscal realities and competing budget pressures against the requirement to replace our aging armoured vehicles fleets, while being prepared for a number of contingencies and strategic futures likely to unfold with little or no warning. In such a tight financial environment, it’s easy to lose sight of the potential costs in manpower and risk of mission failure of financial conservatism. Ahead of ASPI’s Future Force Structure Options Conference, it’s prudent to ask, ‘What’s the right armoured fighting vehicle mix for the Australian Army?’ And once we’ve asked that question, we should be willing to look to, and learn from, international experiences with similar platforms.