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Rapid Force ProjectionConference Proceedings

DEFINING THE OPPORTUNITIES

© Commonwealth of Australia 2020

This work is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced by any process without prior written permission. Inquiries should be made to the publisher.

DisclaimerThe views expressed are those of the authors and conference participants, and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the Department of Defence, the Royal Australian Air Force or the Government of Australia, or the official policy or position of the respective armed forces or governments of the overseas participants. The Commonwealth of Australia will not be legally responsible in contract, tort or otherwise, for any statements made in this record of proceedings.

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ISBN: 9781925062465 9781925062472 (online PDF)

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Air Power Development Centre Department of Defence PO Box 7932 CANBERRA BC ACT 2610 AUSTRALIA

Telephone: + 61 2 6128 7051 Facsimile: + 61 2 6128 7053 Email: [email protected] Website: www.airforce.gov.au/airpower

A catalogue record for this book is available from the National Library of AustraliaA catalogue record for this book is available

from the National Library of Australia.

iv

Contents

Sea Power Centre–Australia ......................................................................................................viAustralian Army Research Centre ......................................................................................... viiAir Power Development Centre ..............................................................................................viii

Rapid Power Projection: An IntroductionDr Albert Palazzo ......................................................................................................................1

The Need for Speed: The Case of Operation PALLISERRichard Iron ................................................................................................................................7

The View From the PacificDr Transform Aqorau ........................................................................................................... 19

Logistic Readiness: How Much is Enough?Lieutenant Colonel Dave Beaumont ................................................................................. 25

The Australian Defence Force’s Growing Demand for Sea Lift Lieutenant Colonel Clarke Brown .................................................................................... 35

Op Quickstep Tonga: A Coy (-) 1 RAR Operations in Support of Tongan Defence Services 18 – 29 November 2006Colonel James Hammett ....................................................................................................... 41

Air Force’s Contribution to National Power ProjectionWing Commander Peter Hunter ........................................................................................ 49

Rapid Force Projection – Definition and OptionsCommander Alastair Cooper .............................................................................................. 57

East Timor - Was it Rapid Enough?Professor Craig Stockings ..................................................................................................... 63

ADF as a System - Opportunities for Rapid Power Projection Commander Kate Miller ....................................................................................................... 73

v

Seizing the Social Media High Ground: A framework for Digital Engagement to Enable Force Projection Operations Lieutenant Colonel Mick Cook .......................................................................................... 83

An Air Power View of Rapid Force ProjectionProfessor Sanu Kainikara ...................................................................................................... 97

Special Forces and Rapid Force ProjectionLieutenant Colonel Joel Packer .........................................................................................103

Notes on Contributors ........................................................................................................113

vi

Sea Power Centre–AustraliaThe Sea Power Centre–Australia (SPC–A) was established in the early 1990s to act as an autonomous research centre in order to foster and encourage development of maritime strategic thought by providing intellectual rigour to the public debate on maritime strategy and other maritime issues.

The mission of the SPC–A is:

• to promote understanding of sea power and its application to the security of Australia’s national interests;

• to manage the development of RAN doctrine and facilitate its incorporation into Australian Defence Force (ADF) joint doctrine;

• to contribute to regional engagement;• to contribute to the development of maritime strategic concepts,

strategies, and force structure decisions; and• to preserve, develop and promote Australian naval history.

The role of the SPC–A is to deliver maritime doctrine and concepts, historical studies and contemporary analysis in order to record the Navy’s past achievements, enhance the current Navy and shape the future maritime force. The SPC–A thus plays an important role in Navy’s capability development process.

In fulfilling its role the SPC–A undertakes the following tasks:

• production of the RAN’s capstone documents in concepts and doctrine;• management of the development and promotion of Australian maritime

doctrine:– ensuring it is consistent with ADF doctrine, and– providing educational briefings and presentations to internal and

external audiences as required;• management of the development of maritime concepts to assist in

the making of informed decisions about force structure, doctrine, organisation, training, command and control, personnel, facilities and policy;

• contributing to and coordinating Navy input to joint and other ADF doctrine and concepts;

• preservation, development and promotion of Australian naval history;• contributing to the broader Defence and public debate on maritime

strategy and contemporary maritime issues; and

• contributing to regional engagement through presentations to courses, conferences and other fora throughout the Indo-Pacific region on maritime strategic and naval issues as required.

vii

Australian Army Research CentreThe Australian Army Research Centre (AARC) was established in mid-2016 in accordance with the wishes of the then Chief of Army Lieutenant General Angus Campbell. It is the successor to the Land Warfare Studies Centre. It sits as a Directorate within the Army’s Future Land Warfare Branch in the Land Capability Division of Army Headquarters.

RoleThe AARC conducts research and analysis, fosters debate and advocates the value of the joint land force to Government, academia and the public.

CharterThe AARC is dedicated to improving the Army’s understanding of the profession of arms. Its purpose is to promote the contribution of the land force to joint operations in peace and war. The AARC conducts applied research on the employment and modernisation of Army with particular reference to Australia’s circumstances and interests. It raises the level of professional debate on war and its challenges within the Army, the nation and international audiences. The AARC enhances the professionalism, leadership and ethical awareness of Australian soldiers and officers.

To disseminate ideas and to promote debate, the AARC maintains a vibrant publication and seminar program. The AARC’s flagship publication is the Australian Army Journal, now in its fourteenth year. The AARC also publishes Occasional Papers and shorter works on its blog, the Land Power Forum. Fortnightly the AARC hosts a seminar series in the Ngunnawal Theatre in Russell. The AARC also hosts academic level conferences such as ‘Ethics under Fire’ and ‘On Ops’.

The AARC contributes to Army’s understanding of the future character of war and the advancement of land power through a number of initiatives. These include:

• organising and conducting the Chief of Army’s Land Forces Seminar as a part of the Land Forces;

• contributing to the development of strategic concepts, strategies, and force structure options;

• assisting in the development of Army doctrine and facilitating its incorporation into future Australian Defence Force joint doctrine;

• managing the Keogh Chair and the Staff Ride Programs;• managing the Army Research Scheme; and• mentoring the work of the CA Scholars and CA Honours Students.

The AARC’s website is at https://www.army.gov.au/our-future/aarc and you can join the conversation on Twitter at @AARCAusArmy

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Air Power Development CentreThe Air Power Development Centre provides practical and effective analysis and advice on the strategic development of air and space power to the Chief of Air Force, the Royal Australian Air Force and its partners.

MissionTo support strategic decision-making about the future of air and space power for Air Force and its partners.

Historical OverviewAir and space power is a cornerstone of Australia’s security, and Australia’s unique strategic geography means that will always be so. As the principal provider of Australia’s air and space power, the RAAF is tasked with the conduct of air and space operations in pursuit of the nation’s security and defence. As exponents of air and space power, all members of the RAAF have an inherent responsibility to be knowledgeable regarding the theory and doctrine of air and space power—Air Force members are to be professional masters. In recognition of this basic need, the then Chief of the Air Staff, Air Marshal Ray Funnell AC, ordered the formation of the RAAF Air Power Studies Centre in 1989 to develop and articulate air power doctrine.

The Centre produced the RAAF’s first Air Power Manual in 1990, which at that time was only the second of its type in the world. As well as establishing the strategic foundation for the application of air power in an Australian context, the Air Power Manual also brought international acclaim to the Centre and the RAAF. From those roots the development of strategic air and space power doctrine and the promotion of air and space power have remained the APDC’s primary goals.

Since 1991, the APDC has been responsible for the conduct of the Chief of Air Force Fellowship program in which selected members of the RAAF undertake research in key air and space power issues which have direct relevance and applicability to Air Force.

Currently, the APDC has responsibility for the following:

• strategic advice regarding air power;• development and review of air and space power doctrine;• air power education within the RAAF and the ADF, including the conduct

of CAF Fellowships and international conferences;• air and space power assessments; and• air and space power applied historical analysis, and Air Force historical

record keeping, through the Office of Air Force History.

1

Rapid Power Projection: An Introduction

Dr Albert Palazzo

When he was Chief of Army, General Angus Campbell, now the Chief of Defence Force (CDF), gave an insightful and predictive speech that we — that is Australia in particularly and humanity as whole — were entering a period of increased disruption. To his Australian Strategic Policy Institute’s listeners, the CDF explained that social, political, technological, climatic and economic trends all pointed to a future of ‘widening chaos and growing danger.’1 From the potential for state-on-state conflict to internal strife and terrorism, it is clear that strategic volatility and global instability is increasing, he observed. Moreover, most defence and security thinkers would suggest that the forces promoting instability will get worse before they get better.

For some events, such as climate change, the die is already cast. The beneficent and stable climate system that humanity evolved within has entered a period of worsening conditions and instability, to which individuals and states will need to respond and adapt if humanity is to survive.2 Great power politics has returned to the fore as the United States-dominated uni-polar moment comes to an end.3 China has risen, Russia is resurgent and North Korea is as unpredictable and dangerous as ever. The risk of direct military confrontation has seen a renewed focus on competition below the threshold of war with which Cold War old hands would be familiar. The race to militarise robotics, artificial intelligence, and a host of other advanced technologies has begun, although the ethical and moral underpinnings of their use is barely understood. All these challengers come at a time when Western Liberalism is undergoing a period of self-doubt and self-destruction as the existing favourable global order is under risk of unravelling.4

It is not just that Australia and the ADF will need to address disruption in one or two areas of human interaction. Rather, multiple challenges are coming fast and simultaneously creating a future operational environment of unprecedented complexity. Consequently, the Government may call upon the Australian Defence Force (ADF) to perform a variety of missions in numerous locations under greatly differing conditions and quite likely at the same time.

While Australian security planners cannot anticipate with any degree of certainty the exact form the future challenges the nation will face, it is reasonable to deduce that a more disruptive future will present Government with a greater number of opportunities to deploy the ADF, if it so desires. To encourage

Rapid Force Projection - Defining the Opportunities

2

consideration of this more active and demanding future, and to promote debate on the force’s capabilities and gaps, the ADF’s Service Study Centres came together in 2019 to host a joint conference titled Rapid Force Projection: Defining the Opportunities. The Sea Power Centre Australia, the Australian Army Research Centre and the Air Power Development Centre deliberately decided to focus on just one aspect of how to achieve success in the coming more disruptive future that the CDF described: the advantages obtained by being able to deploy, apply and sustain military force with speed. To this end, the Study Centres invited a number of academics, defence thinkers and military practitioners to examine the experiences and requirements of rapid operational deployment and in doing so, identify where there might be gaps in the ADF’s existing capability that might reduce Australia’s responsiveness to potentially acute situations. These proceedings are the first outcome of this discussion.

It is worth asking why the staff of the study centres believed that a focus on rapid force projection was of greater benefit to the ADF than perhaps other approaches. Moltke the Elder addressed this point in his writings stating that the ‘rapid conclusion of a war undoubtedly constitutes the greatest kindness.’5 Although Moltke wrote from the perspective of warfare, his words have applicability for any mission involving the use of military force. This is because for a state embarking on any military operation the goal should be the restoration of normality as rapidly as possible. By restoring normality, the inhabitants of the effected area can once again resume the regular currents of their lives. To do this with speed is beneficial because it minimises the ongoing harm and disruption and, importantly, reduces the risk that an already perilous situation may escalate into something worse. To delay, to move ponderously, risks a situation becoming graver as tension and emotions reduce the ability of local peoples to compromise while a lack access to resources inflames the situation. Without a swift response, the situation is likely to become more difficulty to contain and remediate. The ADF cannot begin its work until the deploying force arrives in its area or operations. Therefore, having the ability to project force quickly is a critical determinant to the speed with which the ADF can complete its mission.

Speed is also a force multiplier. By acting faster than your adversary acts one can effectively ‘steal a march’ on your opponent and thereby gain an advantage. The expression’ to steal a march’ dates to the early 18th Century, although its understanding is more distant. Napoleon certainly understood the benefit to be gained by moving faster than your enemy moves, as did Frederick the Great and other renowned commanders. Carl von Clausewitz captured the importance of speed in his principles of war. He wrote, ‘by this speed a hundred enemy measures are nipped in the bud, and public opinion is won most rapidly.’6 Writing considerably earlier, Sun Tzu also thought on the benefits of speed when he wrote, ‘When campaigning, be swift as the wind.’ 7

3

Introduction

Nor is it likely that the potential to gain an advantage through acting fast going to go away. If anything, the utility of speed in war has gained in importance. In the electronic age, information warfare is waged in minutes and the size of the territory subject to effect has massively increased in area. If scientists achieve a breakthrough in quantum computing the military decision cycle will accelerate even more.8 Therefore, having the ability to act with rapidity, which allows your forces to impose a quick resolution to a crisis, promises a return on investment that exceeds its cost to create.

The Conference’s presenters examined their topics from several points of view. Some brought to the Conference the analysis and deliberation of the academic while others offered observations derived from the personal experiences of the operator. The conference did not strive to cover all potentials, just those that the heads of the Study Centres thought the most pressing and relevant to the enhancement of the ADF’s force projection capability. There is no doubt that other areas of capability gap could benefit from similar examination.

The Conference’s keynote speaker was BRIG Richard Iron (ret), formally of the British Army. In using the Operation Palliser as a case study, BRIG Iron explored the benefits and challenges of reaching the operational area with upmost haste. Palliser was the British intervention in the Sierra Leone Civil War in 2000. Upon receiving the Government’s go order the British military insertion force transited nearly 7,000 kilometres in 48 hours and in doing so prevented the massacre of civilians by the advancing rebel Army. Among those civilians saved were numerous British and friendly country nationals whose future would have been uncertain if the operation had not taken place. For Iron, Sierra Leone demonstrates that rapid intervention can stabilise a situation before it deteriorates beyond the point of no return. In this case, moving quickly saved effort as it prevented the creation of an even direr situation in Sierra Leone that would have necessitated a longer and larger commitment of British forces.

Although not as far to deploy as Sierra Leone, Australia had its own experience with an urgent and life saving intervention. Professor Craig Stockings’s chapter offers a case study into the ADF’s deployment to East Timor in 1999. As Dili burned, the Australian Government ordered the ADF to intervene and restore order to the Indonesian province of East Timor, now Timor-Leste. Although Dili was only 700 kilometres from Darwin, the deployment taxed an unprepared ADF. As Stockings outlines, the intervention was a near run thing and its course confirmed enormous gaps in the ADF’s lift and logistic capabilities. How could such a short distance stretch the deploying force nearly to the breaking point and has Australia remediated the shortfall in capability for next time are questions that need to be asked? More worryingly, the intervention in East Timor was not a war-fighting mission. Instead, as we know, the mission was a less demanding peace stabilisation one and yet the ADF was woefully unprepared for its conduct so near to its shores.


4

Dr Transform Aqorau contributed to the Conference a view from the Pacific on the utility of rapid force projection. He considers several existential threats that might overwhelm the Pacific Island States and necessitate a rapid intervention. Tightening the focus on the Pacific Islands is COL James Hammett’s recollections of his service on Operation Quickstep –Tonga in 2006. Deploying on short notice, Hammett commanded the Australian contingent to Nuku Alofa, then in the midst of a rampage of violence and civil disorder. His task was to assist the Tongan Defence Services with restoration of law and order before the country suffered even greater damage.

Logistics is the essential prerequisite of any force projection and without sufficient support and lift availability, the deploying force cannot move, and even if it does arrive in theatre, it still needs to be sustained. General Archibald Wavell, one of the most erudite commanders of the Second World War professed that understanding administration of war — or logistics as we know it — was the first principle of being an effective leader.9 Unfortunately, logistics is a traditional area of underspend and under-thinking across the ADF. For this reason, the discussion of logistics featured considerably at the Rapid Force Projection Conference.

While airlift is fast, it cannot carry the quantities that a modern military deployment requires. The ADF must have access to sealift for any significant deployment and for its ongoing sustainment. However, the ADF does not possess a significant sealift capacity even after the acquisition of the RAN’s two LHDs (Canberra and Adelaide) and the smaller Choules. Commercial lift is essential if the ADF is to get to where it is needed and if it is to be sustained in theatre. The Subject of Lieutenant Colonel Clarke Brown’s essay is the arcane but vital practice of STUFT or Ships Taken Up From the Trade. Commercial Sea lift has been the foundation of ADF deployments, but Brown makes the case that such a reliance has become problematic, especially in the absence of a national flagged fleet. His thoughts have enormous ramifications for the deployment of the force in the future. Taken a wider lens, COL David Beaumont examines the ADF’s logistics from the perspective of readiness. The ADF’s tendency to emphasis operational readiness in lieu of logistic readiness threatens to undercut what the force can and cannot do.

Several authors examined their topics from the perspective of maximising effect through the optimisation of systems. CMDR Kate Miller offers ten prescriptions that she would implement if she were the VCDF for a day. Each offers an opportunity to reshape the ADF to a more useful instrument of national policy. LTCOL Mike Cook tackles the need for a framework for digital engagement. No one can argue that social media has gained in importance in the art of war. Cook argues for improvement in rapid digital projection to shape the environment in support of the physical deployment. CMDR Alastair Cooper examines the variations in form, range and conduct of rapid power projection and touches on the idea of mobility in mass and the implications it has for a relatively modest ADF.

5

Introduction

The fastest way to get to where you are needed is clearly by the air. While the RAAF has constructed a state-of-the-art 5th Generation air force, the possession of advanced technology need not equate to rapidity of action. Professor Sanu Kainikara contrasts the political and military realities of rapid force projection. The RAAF may excel at speed but he questions if it can also meet the Australian and host nation’s political requirements. Militarily, Kainidara, explains that while projection via the air is fast it cannot be sustained for long periods. Wing Commander Peter Hunter drills further into the political aspects of rapid fore projection. He sees a great need to reframe our national strategy because of the changes underway in the Indo Pacific, particularly the emergence of an environment of constant competition. Hunter highlights that the prerequisite for success in any future intervention is to recalibrate the ADF’s thinking on how to succeed without fighting. The other element of the ADF that has the ability to respond rapidly is the Special Forces. In his chapter, LTCOL Joel Packer explores the role of Special Forces in power projection. He discusses the suite of capabilities the Special Forces bring to the mission and the ongoing capabilities required to allow the Special Forces to act with speed.

In 1999, The Government called upon the ADF to intervene in East Timor to quell a growing humanitarian disaster. While successful, historians have issued damning assessments of the forces preparation. John Blaxland has concluded that the mission exposed ’persistent weaknesses in the enabling functions of force projection’.10 Bob Breen, in his study of self-reliance noted that Australia’s ‘challenge for the twenty-first century would be to reduce the level of difficulty the ADF was having with force projection in the final decades of the twentieth century.’11 Admittedly, in the years since 1999 the ADF’s capability has improved but progress has also been slow and much remains to be done. As I observed in a 2018 study on amphibious operations, with the arrival of the RAN’s two LHDs Australia has finally acquired the capability it first aspired to for Operation Morris Dance in 1987.12

The point is that while the ADF has accomplished much, much remains to be done. The reader should note that not all the gaps identified by these papers are in equipment. In fact, most relate to how the force thinks and organises for power projection and the systems it has for the making of decisions. The future is likely to mandate a more interventionist ADF due to the more disruptive future that the CDF has described. Not all the fixes needed to meet this challenge will require the ADF to invest in expensive equipment, but they all will require serious investment in thinking. The chapters in these conference proceedings are a step in that direction. I thank all the contributors for helping the ADF on this necessary journey.


6

Endnotes

1 Angus Campbell, Chief of Army’s Speech to ASPI National Security Dinner, 29 June 2017 at https://www.army.gov.au/our-work/speeches-and-transcripts/the-australian-ar-my-delivering-in-an-age-of-disruption-address-by (accessed 6 November 2019).

2 Michael E Mann and Lee R Kump, Dire Predictions: Understanding Climate Change, D K Publishing, New York, 2015.

3 Ali Wyne, ‘Can America Remain Number One?, National Interest, 18 February 2019, at https://nationalinterest.org/feature/can-america-remain-number-one-44627 (accessed 6 November 2019).

4 Allan Gyngell, ‘Gallipoli Memorial lecture: Fear of Abandonment – Australia’s Re-sponse to Changing Global Orders,’ RUSI, 29 June 2019, at https://rusi.org/event/gallipoli-memorial-lecture-fear-abandonment-australia%E2%80%99s-response-chang-ing-global-orders (accessed 6 November 2019).

5 Daniels J Hughes, ed., Moltke on the Art of War: Selected Writings, Presido Press, No-vato, 1995, p. 24.

6 Carl von Clausewitz, Principles of War, Hans W Gatzke, trans., The Military Service Publishing Company, Harrisburg, 1950, pp. 46-47.

7 Sun Tzu, The Art of War, Samuel B Griffith, trans., Oxford University Press, London, 1971, p. 106.

8 Sydney J Freedberg Jr, “‘The Golden 5 Minutes’ The Need for Speed in Information War,” Breaking Defence, 21 October 2019, at https://breakingdefense.com/2019/10/the-golden-five-minutes-the-need-for-speed-in-information-war/ (accessed 12 November 2019).

9 Archibald Wavell, Generals and Generalship, Penguin, Harmondsworth, 1951, p. 15.10 John Blaxland, The Australian Army from Whitlam to Howard, Cambridge University

Press, Melbourne, 2014, p. 163.11 Bob Breen, Struggling for Self-Reliance: For case studies of Australian Regional Force

Projection in the late 1980s and the 1990s,’ ANU E Press, Canberra, 2008, p. 163.12 Albert Palazzo, Pre-Landing Operations: Getting Old Tasks Done in an Age of Trans-

parency, Australian Army Research Centre, Canberra, 2018, p. 43.

7

The Need for Speed: The Case of Operation PALLISER

Richard Iron

Introduction

The British operation in Sierra Leone is a rare success for Western military intervention. In the popular narrative, British paratroopers deployed to Freetown over a weekend and ‘[saved] the UN from disaster and [hastened] the end of an exceptionally nasty war.’1

The reality was more complex. The British helped stabilise the situation in May 2000, when there appeared to be a risk of a Revolutionary United Front (RUF) attack on Freetown; and the continuing British presence contributed to ending the war. But there was a wealth of other circumstance that contributed to what remains a lasting peace.

Nevertheless, the British intervention was an extraordinary achievement. Although the UK deployed nearly 4,500 personnel into theatre, most of the success was achieved by 300-400 British troops in Sierra Leone at any time. The initial intervention involved deployment of a battalion group over 5000 kilometres, without warning, within 48 hours. During the subsequent two years of intervention in one of Africa’s bloodiest wars, there were two British fatalities, of which only one was in action.

The Sierra Leone Civil War

Sierra Leone is a bit larger than Tasmania and is largely jungle. At the outbreak of war in 1991, its population was about 5 million, divided into Creoles, well-educated, Christian and generally living on the coast, and inland tribes. Although many were Muslim, most were deeply steeped in traditional beliefs of the spirit world.

As with most wars, there was no single cause. The collapse of the resource-rich economy in the 1980s, largely caused by government corruption, led to widespread public dissatisfaction. What converted a difficult, but manageable, situation into violent civil war was Libya’s President Muammar Qaddafi. He


8

cultivated civil disorder in Sierra Leone and offered training at Libya’s World Revolutionary Centre, alongside a wide range of African, Asian and South American would-be revolutionaries.2

It was in Libya, in 1989, that the RUF was born and Foday Sankoh, an ex-signals corporal in the Sierra Leone Army, was chosen by Qaddafi to be its leader. Qaddafi went on to support the RUF with weapons and cash for several years.

Whilst in Libya, Sankoh befriended the Liberian Charles Taylor, who was creating his own revolutionary movement to seize power in Liberia. Taylor persuaded Sankoh that, for revolution in Sierra Leone to succeed, he should first help secure Liberia for Taylor; enabling a line of communication for the flow of Libyan arms to the RUF. It took eighteen months of fighting in Liberia before the border zone was secured; and the RUF invaded Sierra Leone on 27 March 1991, heavily supported by Charles Taylor’s Liberians.3

The next nine years of war, leading to British intervention in May 2000, were complex, with two military coups, three external interventions (two by the regional power, Nigeria), democratic elections which brought President Ahmed Tejan Kabbah to power, and creation of two new guerrilla groups: the anti-democratic Armed Forces Revolutionary Command (AFRC), which came from the Sierra Leone Army following one of the coups; and the pro-democratic Civil Defence Force (CDF), consisting of locally recruited self-defence units. All the while, the RUF was supplied from Liberia, exchanged for diamonds mined in east Sierra Leone. The war was also characterised by multiple attempts to end it, with four peace initiatives: in each case the RUF broke the terms of the agreement since there were no means of enforcing them.

The 1999 Lomé peace agreement set the scene for British intervention. A UN force, UNAMSIL, was to oversee Disarmament, Demobilisation and Reintegration (DDR) of all armed parties to the conflict, including the Army and CDF. Unfortunately, UNAMSIL had neither the numbers nor resolve to enforce Lomé and there was nothing to penalise the RUF if they failed to surrender to the DDR programme.

Perversely, DDR started in early 2000 with those who it was most easy to disarm – forces under government control – not the RUF. This left the RUF stronger, comparatively, than they had ever been in the war. So Lomé went the same way as the others: the RUF used the ceasefire to rebuild, while the government unilaterally disarmed and became relatively weaker against the rebels.

9


British Intervention

In 2000, Tony Blair was prime minister of Britain. This was a time when NATO had faced down Milosevic over Kosovo and when an Australian-led coalition had succeeded in East Timor. It seemed, before the 2003 invasion of Iraq, that military power, used wisely, could do good and bring peace. Tony Blair described this in what he called a Doctrine for the International Community, arguing for the use of force for moral, not utilitarian, purposes.4

This political will to intervene overseas was given expression in the Strategic Defence Review of 1998, which created a pool of high readiness units described as Joint Rapid Reaction Forces. It included a standing one-star deployable joint force headquarters to conduct operational level contingency planning, reconnaissance and preparation on an almost permanent basis.5 Its first commander was Brigadier David Richards and its first operation was as the national contingent headquarters for the East Timor operation.

By the time that the British deployed to Sierra Leone in May 2000, political will, doctrine and capability all aligned to make overseas intervention possible.

Operation PALLISER

Decision to deploy British intervention was triggered by a collapse in security after UNAMSIL

attempted to establish DDR centres in RUF-run territory. At this stage, the RUF ruled the entire eastern half of the country, including most of the diamond-producing areas.

UNAMSIL was not strong enough to confront the RUF and depended on RUF cooperation. That cooperation wasn’t there. Instead, many of the forces sent to establish DDR centres in RUF territory were taken hostage or placed under siege. One attempt to break the siege of a Kenyan Army company resulted in an entire Zambian battalion being captured by the RUF.6

In New York, the UN was at a loss as to what to do. Following a Security Council meeting on Thursday 4 May, the US and French Ambassadors met the British ambassador and emphasised Britain’s responsibilities to Sierra Leone as the ex-colonial power. The UN had done all it could: it was now up to Britain.7

Back in London, the Government was focused on the Balkans, not Africa. The solution had up to now been to ‘internationalise’ the problem: allow the UN to take the lead and UK provided support where it could. So, the next morning, officials were taken by surprise when they met to discuss the overnight telegram from New York.


10

Overnight, the Permanent Joint Headquarters (PJHQ), the UK’s operational level HQ, had developed options for evacuation of British entitled personnel from Sierra Leone, based on a special forces squadron, a parachute battalion, or a Royal Marine commando.

Friday morning’s meeting in the Cabinet Office kept all options open and decided to deploy an Operational Liaison and Reconnaissance Team (OLRT) from the UK’s standing deployable one-star joint headquarters into theatre immediately. They were to recommend what action, if any, the British Government should take.

So, that evening, within 24 hours of the UN Security Council meeting, Brigadier David Richards was in the air with a twelve-strong team en route to Freetown. Richards had commanded the one-star Joint Force Headquarters for eighteen months. During that time, he visited Sierra Leone three times. He knew President Kabbah well and understood better than most the capabilities of rebel and government troops. Although London was surprised by events in Sierra Leone, the person to command the operation was not.8

Forces prepare Simultaneously, PJHQ sent out warning orders. The SAS squadron readied

for direct deployment to theatre. 1st Battalion the Parachute Regiment (1 Para) convened a planning conference, including all its attachments, on Friday afternoon. Despite most of the battalion being on five days’ notice to move, with lead elements at 48 hours’ notice, the battalion was ordered to parade 15 hours later, at 0800 on Saturday and bussed to the Air Mounting Centre that morning. The battalion moved on nothing more than a warning order.9

Despite our doctrine, readiness is an attitude of mind. If you want to be ready, you can be. You don’t need five days.

The Marines were just as keen. The Amphibious Task Group was exercising in the Mediterranean. It was centred on 42 Commando on HMS Ocean, plus the frigate HMS Chatham and two Royal Fleet Auxiliaries. On Friday 5 May, 42 Commando had landed in southern France for land training. It took 24 hours to get everyone on board and readied for sea, so the Amphibious Task Group deployed from Marseilles on Sunday 7 May.10

The OLRT in Freetown The OLRT arrived in Freetown late morning on Saturday 6 May, setting up

in the British High Commission. David Richards that afternoon met President Kabbah, the UN Special Representative and the commander of UNAMSIL. The UN was in disarray and preparing to evacuate. He reassured UNAMSIL that the British would help defend Freetown’s airport at Lungi, as long as UNAMSIL stayed. This commitment was ahead of policy in London, but Richards thought it necessary to give confidence to a weak UN position.11

11


Richards was also told that the only thing that stood between the rebels and Freetown was a fragile UNAMSIL position at Waterloo, 30 kilometres from the city. Further north, the RUF had started to attack on a second axis towards Lungi airport. The team also witnessed panic in Freetown as people feared a re-run of the previous year’s attack.

So Richards reported to PJHQ late Saturday afternoon that the situation was getting worse and all three elements of the Joint Rapid Reaction Force should deploy: the SAS squadron; the parachute battalion; and the Amphibious Task Group. In particular, he asked that 1 Para should be deployed that night to a French base in Dakar, in nearby Senegal, so they could deploy to Sierra Leone more quickly.12

Other assets also started to move. Four Chinook helicopters self-ferried, arriving in Freetown on Monday morning. The carrier HMS Illustrious, carrying thirteen Harrier jets and a number of Sea King helicopters, was diverted from the eastern Mediterranean to West Africa to provide air support if needed. Operation PALLISER had begun.

NEO On Sunday, the High Commission in Freetown heard sustained firing nearby.

In the mid-afternoon, the High Commissioner judged the situation so bad that he formally requested Brigadier Richards to conduct a non-combatant evacuation operation (NEO) of all British and other entitled personnel from Sierra Leone.13

The NEO swung into action. On Monday the Paras deployed to Lungi, with a company forward in Freetown to assist the High Commission process all entitled personnel for evacuation. Over the next few days 428 people were evacuated.14

This was straightforward stuff, well-rehearsed and within the capability of company commanders and RAF movements personnel to handle. So David Richards and his command team focused their efforts on the more pressing problem posed by the RUF.

The problem facing Richards Brigadier Richards received written orders on Wednesday 10 May, four days

after the operation started. It was clear that London saw PALLISER as an economy of effort operation. The orders specified evacuation of entitled personnel and support to UNAMSIL, principally by helping secure Lungi Airport. They did not mention assisting Sierra Leone nor defeating the RUF.15 However, Richards believed that helping Sierra Leone’s forces was implied: UNAMSIL could not succeed without government forces fighting the RUF; so by assisting the Sierra Leoneans he was, he justified, supporting UNAMSIL.

As a result, he had already decided upon a campaign plan with two lines of operation:16


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1. Encourage UNAMSIL to fight, rather than focus on peacekeeping that made them vulnerable to attack.

2. Turn Sierra Leonean government forces into an effective fighting organisation, capable of defeating the RUF.

Brigadier Richards turned a blind eye to what was not in his orders and did what he considered was in the British Government’s best interests. British support to UNAMSIL went well beyond the security of Lungi airport: boosting planning capability and embedding liaison officers in all UN battalions. Developing Sierra Leone’s armed forces was more difficult. Scaled-down by Lomé, the Army numbered about 3000. This would later greatly increase but, in the meantime, the British organised them with a variety of loyal militias into three brigades of three battalions, each with embedded British officers and senior NCOs, totalling about 6000.

By the end of the first week of PALLISER, government forces, supported by their one Mi-24 attack helicopter, had pushed RUF forces about 10 kilometres further from Freetown.17

This was an important week. It started with 1 Para’s arrival and ended with the Amphibious Task Group in theatre. The NEO had largely been conducted. UNAMSIL had been stabilised and UN withdrawal halted. Most importantly, local Government forces had been organised and were now taking the offensive against the RUF.

The UK’s Chief of Defence Staff, General Sir Charles Guthrie, visited theatre at the end of the week. It was an important visit. Guthrie was trusted by Tony Blair and it was Richards’ opportunity to get the Government to accept his approach in helping the Sierra Leoneans. Fortunately, Guthrie agreed.18 The MOD endorsed a longer-term training mission to expand and professionalise the Sierra Leone Army, to become Operation BASILICA.

Relief in place After the Paras had been in theatre two weeks they were beginning to suffer

logistically. Most had only deployed with the clothes they wore and aircraft space had prioritised weapons and ammunition rather than personal kit. So, as the situation began to stabilise, it was time to replace 1 Para with 42 Commando, still offshore in HMS OCEAN. The handover took place on 24-25 May, the Paras returning home the same day.19

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Operation BASILICA

Despite continuing RUF attacks, the situation improved. Most UNAMSIL hostages were released at the end of May. Sierra Leonean forces appeared to be more effective. In the British view, PALLISER had been a success and, on 15 June, after six weeks, the Joint Task Force withdrew, and BASILICA began.

BASILICA’s main focus was a Short-Term Training Team (STTT), based on an infantry battalion, to train a further 3,000 men of the Sierra Leone Army; and a team to rebuild the Sierra Leonean ministry of defence.20 These were essential if Sierra Leone was ever going to secure itself; but it wasn’t enough. Without British leadership and coordination, the campaign against the RUF lost momentum. In particular, the fragile alliance between the pro-government militias broke down and the AFRC, restyling themselves the West Side Boys, set up a fiefdom in the Occra Hills, on the edge of the Freetown Peninsula.

It was this bunch that, on 25 August, high on drugs, took hostage Major Alan Marshall and eleven members of the Royal Irish Regiment, on a routine patrol. Over the next two weeks, the hostages were subject to violence by the increasingly erratic West Side Boys. Despite continuing negotiations, the British prepared for a rescue operation.

An SAS squadron and a parachute company were moved to Dakar. The decision to launch the rescue operation was made on 9 September by the Government in London. At dawn the following morning, D Squadron SAS abseiled from helicopters directly into the rebel camp where the hostages were held; and A Company 1 Para landed on the south of the river to assault and clear a second rebel camp.

It was not a clinical hostage rescue like some special force operations. It was a conventional military attack relying on surprise, firepower and rapid action. One SAS soldier was killed. Thirteen Paras were injured. But all hostages were released unharmed.

Afterwards, an analysis assessed the circumstances in which the patrol was taken hostage. BASILICA’s commander, Brigadier Gordon Hughes, was admonished for permitting British troops to be taken hostage.21 Although he bore ultimate responsibility, he did not have the resources to prevent it: his was a training, not operational, headquarters, and there wasn’t much he could have done differently with the organisation he had.

In the (later) words of the by-now Lord Richards: We replaced an operational HQ with a bunch of trainers. We attempted

transition too early. After we departed, the RUF regained confidence. By September 2000 the situation was again deteriorating ... We took a risk and failed.22

This was the birth of Operation SILKMAN.


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Operation SILKMAN

SILKMAN was the fourth British operation in Sierra Leone and most decisive. It forced the RUF to engage with the peace process and surrender to DDR. At this stage the RUF controlled over half the country and diamond-producing areas. Charles Taylor continued to provide weaponry in exchange for diamonds. The RUF showed no sign of returning to negotiation; indeed, they were expanding operations into Guinea.

Although British training of the Sierra Leone Army was bearing fruit, it was slow and there was no coordinating headquarters to defeat the RUF while building Sierra Leonean forces. So, the decision was taken to deploy a ‘joined-up’ long-term headquarters into theatre as soon as possible. While a permanent headquarters was being stood up, Brigadier Richards and the JFHQ returned to Freetown on 12 October, four months after PALLISER.

Lord Richards commented afterwards: ‘SILKMAN was all psychological’. His intent was to convince the RUF ‘of the inevitability of their defeat.’23 He exploited a second deployment of the Royal Marines to Sierra Leone for a week-long amphibious demonstration. He told local radio that the maritime deployment was to ‘remind the rebels that Britain meant business here. I think the imminent arrival of [the task group] ... probably was a factor in them coming to the peace table a little earlier than we’d anticipated.’24

Abuja The RUF did, indeed, sign another ceasefire agreement, on 10 November 2000,

in Abuja, Nigeria. This was the fourth international attempt to end the war. The British thought that their return to Sierra Leone persuaded the RUF to

negotiate. Actually, it was so the RUF could attack neighbouring Guinea; at the request of, and supported by, Charles Taylor. With a ceasefire in place and without fear of attack, the RUF could attack Guinea using Sierra Leone as a safe base.25 That is why they signed the Abuja Agreement; it had little to do with the arrival of the British.

Unfortunately, not only were the British mistaken about this, they were also deluded that it was the end of the war. David Richards, after handing over to the permanent headquarters, claimed the war had been won and the new commander just had to ‘take forward the peace process and implement longer term training and restructuring plans.’26

Alas, it was not to be. Like previous attempts at peace, the RUF ignored it. In this case they attacked Guinea, killing over 1,000. The Guinean Government was ruthless in its response: in January 2001 it started cross-border raids into Sierra Leone to destroy RUF bases, using armour, multiple launched rocket systems and attack helicopters. The RUF suffered badly and lost many of its most experienced commanders.27

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Sierra Leone takes to the offensiveMeanwhile, the RUF had no intention of disarming and retained control of

diamond-mining areas. They would need to be forced to surrender to DDR and it was up to the new British commander, Brigadier Jonathon Riley, to force them to do it. So, he developed a campaign plan for the Sierra Leoneans to implement, with British help. The focus was the RUF’s operational-level centre of gravity – the diamond fields in eastern Sierra Leone.28

By December 2000, the training regime was bearing fruit. The Sierra Leone Army now had four effective brigades. Against a much weakened RUF, still focused on Guinea, the Sierra Leoneans occupied areas that had not seen government control for years.

Buoyed by increasing capability of the Sierra Leone Army, a UNAMSIL that was now at its full authorised strength of 17,500, and a fatally weakened RUF, President Kabbah invited the RUF leadership back to Abuja to, in his words, ‘review the implementation of the November 2000 ceasefire agreement.’ These talks became known as Abuja 2.

The rebels realised that their military campaign was defeated; government forces were in the ascendancy; and the political deal on offer was as good as it ever would be. So, on the fifth attempt at a political settlement, the RUF caved in. DDR was relaunched in May 2001. Over the next eight months, 47,076 combatants were disarmed. By the end of February 2002, the bulk of the country was, for the first time in 11 years, under Government control. The war was over.

What was the British contribution to ending the war?

There’s no doubt that the British helped end the war, although they were just one of a number of factors. PALLISER stabilised a dangerous situation in May 2000 and prevented the collapse of the government and evacuation of UNAMSIL. It was important, but it didn’t end the war. The Nigerians had done the same thing twice before in more difficult circumstances.

BASILICA was a mistake: focusing solely on rebuilding Sierra Leone’s armed forces let the RUF regain the military initiative. The hostage rescue Operation BARRAS had little impact.

It was only during Operation SILKMAN that an enduring campaign plan to win the war was developed and implemented. In the end it was, of course, the Sierra Leoneans who won the war, not the British, but British support, training, mentoring and technical assistance was essential in giving the Sierra Leone Army such a tactical advantage over the RUF that, in the end, the RUF capitulated.


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The Key Lessons from the British Intervention

There are many lessons that can be drawn from the Sierra Leone operation. I highlight just three.

1. Rapid intervention can stabilise a situation before it deteriorates. It is unlikely to win the conflict, but it may prevent that conflict from being lost.

2. Readiness is a state of mind, not a physical restriction. It is usually better to act now, with 75% combat power, than wait a week to reach 100%.

3. Don’t be beguiled that your own narrative is the objective truth. It is tempting but dangerous.

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Endnotes

1 Stephen Ellis, Season of Rains: Africa in the World, Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2012.

2 Gibril Massaquoi, The Conflict, circa 2002, unpublished paper; also Witness to Truth: Report of the Sierra Leone Truth & Reconciliation Commission, Sierra Leone Truth and Reconciliation Commission. Accra, Ghana: GPL Press, 2004: Vol. 3A, 93.

3 Witness to Truth: Report of the Sierra Leone Truth & Reconciliation Commission: Vol. 3A, 103.

4 Tony Blair, Doctrine of the International Community, speech delivered at Chicago 24 April 1999, http://www.pbs.org/newshour/bb/international-jan-june99-blair_doc-trine4-23/ [accessed 25 May 2017].

5 Richard Connaughton, Organising British Joint Rapid Reaction Forces, Joint Force Quarterly, Autumn 2000: 90.

6 ‘Third Report of the Secretary-General of the United Nations Mission in Sierra Leone’ http://www.un.org/en/ga/search/view_doc.asp?symbol=S/2000/186 [accessed 28 Feb-ruary 2017].

7 Andrew Dorman, Blair’s Successful War: British Military Intervention in Sierra Leone. Farnham: Ashgate, 2009: 58.

8 Interview with Lord Richards, 15 September 2016.9 Interview with Major General Free, 16 January 2017.10 Interviews with Captain Hutton OBE, RAN, 25 October 2016, and Brigadier (retd)

Taylor, 24 November 2016.11 Richards Interview.12 ‘Operation PALLISER Chronology’, PJHQ Lessons Learnt Study, 2000.13 Ibid.14 Ibid.15 Permanent Joint Headquarters, Updated CJO Intent to JTFC, Operation PALLISER, 10

May 2000.16 David Richards, ‘Operation Palliser’, Royal Artillery Journal, Woolwich: Royal Artillery

Institution. CXXVII (2), October 2000: 10–15.17 Witness to Truth: Report of the Sierra Leone Truth & Reconciliation Commission: Vol.

3A, 458.18 ‘Operation PALLISER Chronology’.19 William Taylor, Operation PALLISER Diary, 2000.20 Mike Dent, Sierra Leone Background Brief, Sierra Leone Joint Support Command D/

JSC/COMD/1003, 24 July.21 Michael Smith, ‘Major to escape court martial over kidnap of jungle patrol’, Daily

Telegraph, 15 September 2000. http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/africaan-dindianocean/sierraleone/1355567/Major-to-escape-court-martial-over-kidnap-of-jungle-patrol.html [accessed 15 November 2016].

22 Richards Interview.


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23 Ibid.24 Sierra Leone Web News Archive November 2000, http://www.sierra-leone.org/Ar-

chives/slnews1100.html [accessed 12 April 2017].25 Alpha Sesay, ‘Taylor Did Not Order the RUF to Attack Guinea’, International Justice

Monitor, 2 September 2009, https://www.ijmonitor.org/2009/09/taylor-did-not-order-the-ruf-to-attack-guinea/ [accessed 17 May 2017].

26 Dent: 21.27 Jonathon Riley, ‘Operation SILKMAN’, unpublished paper.28 RSLAF OPLAN 1/01, ‘Campaign Plan for the Defeat of the RUF by Government Forc-

es in Sierra Leone’, Sierra Leone Defence Headquarters, Freetown, January 2001.

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The View From the Pacific

Dr Transform Aqorau

There are many different views of the Pacific depending on who you talk to, because we are not as people assume, a homogenous grouping of islands, with a shared national interest. Some assume we are challenged by the same interests and therefore can be treated as a single, seamless regime. This might be true when you look at environmental challenges like the impact of climate change that we are confronting. However, it is affecting the region in differential ways and therefore in finding solutions we have to be careful about how we approach the problems.

My view of the Pacific is defined by my immediate past and present exposure to the region and perhaps this has slanted the way in which I perceive the challenges that might define the opportunities for rapid force intervention. I am now living the in the village, at Rakutu in the island of New Georgia in the western part of Solomon Islands. I decided to trade off a life of comfort after an international career for the peace and tranquility of the village; to retire to the sounds of the birds and the moist cover in the mornings across the stream that runs through the valley at Rakutu. I gave away the comforts of a gas stove to depend on the forest for firewood and rain water to supply my water needs. I have like many peoples in the Pacific Islands gone back to the land and sea which we depend on to provide for our daily needs. However, I can still enjoy the best of both worlds; integrating myself back into my rural community while at the same time enjoying the freedom to work and travel overseas. This has allowed me to view our challenges that would perhaps be perceived differently by someone with a different experience and world view from my own.

I have been a diplomat serving my country and the region developing various international instruments to serve our interests, and an international fisheries expert struggling for the best part of the past 30 years to gain control of our tuna resources. We have the largest and healthiest tuna stocks in the world, more than all the other oceans put together. I helped put together the largest and most complex tuna fisheries management arrangement in the world, and over a period of six years as the pioneer head of this organisation was able to capitalize the value of the direct returns to the countries known as the Parties to the Nauru Agreement from US$60 million in 2010 when we started to US$470 million when I stepped down in August 2016. We use to be pawns in the power play between the rich and powerful nations when we had not yet fully developed the instrument known as the Vessel Day Scheme which has transformed our fisheries. I have dealt with the Chinese, the Americans, Japanese, Koreans, Taiwanese and the major fishing States who have been in this region for the best part of the past 30 years.


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So, my views about the opportunities and the challenges that we face have been influenced somewhat by the attitudes displayed by those that I have confronted over the past 25 years in our endeavours to secure the rights to, and control of our tuna fisheries.

I would like to preface my characterisation of the opportunities for rapid deployment by referencing my views and perceptions of the Pacific Islands region. I am not ashamed to gloat about our Blue Pacific, the idyllic islands, beautiful blue lagoons and happy smiling faces and I would rather live in the Islands than anywhere else, where our sense of community is still very strong, the family and social networks are an essential part of the social fabric of our communities, where sharing especially in the villages is still practiced, where you can hear singing and laughter, and where people greet you with a smile and hand shake. These are values and norms that money cannot buy and in spite of the limitations of resources and services that you find in the developed countries, I would rather be in the islands than to trade it for the comfort of more developed countries, but that is a personal choice that I have made and others perhaps with less inclination towards the values that some of us cherish, would rather enjoy the luxuries that you find in the more developed countries. I did say that sometimes, it would be a mistake to make sweeping generalizations about the islands but I sincerely believe that in one respect, we are have a common trait that underlies the way in which peoples live in the Pacific Islands and that is we are all challenged by the social and technological changes that are taking place at a very fast pace. We all share in common with other peoples around the world, the ability to communicate through mobile phones and social media which is having a hugely transformative effect on our societies.

While technology has certainly impacted on the way we communicate and socialise, there are certain things that have not changed and that is the fact the Pacific is still the largest geographic feature on the planet Earth; the islands may be scattered but they represent important trade routes between Asia and America’s, they host the largest tuna fisheries in the world; the Pacific ocean currents that influence the El Nino and La Nina climatic conditions have global impact on weather patterns; and the islands are geographically dispersed providing both opportunities and challenges for trade, the protection of unique flora and fauna, and the preservation to some degree of their unique languages and cultures. When I look at the Pacifical Islands region as a Pacific islander and one now living in the village, I see a peaceful region untainted by the conflicts that you see in the other parts of the world, but I am not insensitive however to the risks that are we exposed to and would therefore see the potential for a rapid response arising in respect of three areas that I break down into the following categories.

There are what I call the existential risks arising from the mere fact of history and geography, exacerbated by the presence of two, perhaps even more military bases in the northern Pacific that would inevitably draw the region into a conflict. We are not immune and would not be insulated from a conflict between say

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China, North Korea and the United States, God forbid if that were to ever happen, as we have already been the theatre of conflict during the second world war. Indeed, we have a dedicated unit in our Police Force that is wholly dedicated to detonating the ordnances left over from that conflict. I have bits and pieces that I collect from the war and indeed the trees around the area where I live have bullets stuck in them often causing the chain saw blades to be blunted. Such a conflict would obviously prompt a rapid response. As Pacific Islanders, we certainly do not want to see that and our Leaders have said as part of the Blue Pacific that we want a prosperous and peaceful region, but we are not going to pretend that we are not going to be impacted by what we see as these external conflicts that could draw our region into it by mere fact of geography. We continue to confront the legacy of the Second World War, and therefore it is incumbent upon us to strive to ensure that the world remains peaceful.

Perhaps, the likelihood of a rapid response will also be promoted as we have seen by internal conflicts, and even though we failed the Bougainvilleans, the Regional Assistance Mission to Solomon Islands (RAMSI) intervention in Solomon Islands illustrates that peace and tranquility cannot be taken for granted. I remember talking to an Australian journalist in early 1989 about how we would never be able to have a conflict like the unfolding clashes in Bougainville at the time because were such peaceful, and gentle people. I was so mistaken as gentleness and humility only lasts while there is space for it to exist, and as was the case in Solomon Islands, some of the most gentle and meek grouping of people reacted with violence when they were pushed too far. This can also be said of Bougainvilleans who before their conflict on average had the highest number of graduates per capita of any of the provinces in Papua New Guinea and were amongst the most peaceful. No one at that time would have ever thought that such mild-mannered people would then have a conflict that would last longer than the Second World War.

If there are lessons for us to learn it would be that, we can never underestimate the region and interpret what is happening by looking at the surface whilst not understanding the importance that Pacific Islands peoples place on land. With growing populations, tensions arising from the various conflicts that arise from the utilisation of land, the growing interests from the rich natural resources, land is one of the primary drivers that prompted people to violence and resulted in the deployment of the largest intervention force RAMSI - in the region.

The vulnerabilities of the region to natural disasters are of course important and the need to urgently provide logistical support to provide disaster relief are going to prompt a rapid deployment. I think from our perspective in the region the important thing is to coordinate these operations with the local authorities and ensure that the lines of communication are clear and do not result in confusion over who has authority. The last thing that government authorities would want to see is an intervention that assumes that those with the resources can simply make things happen because they happen to have the logistical


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support. That may be true but operating in rural, isolated areas where there are language and cultural sensitivities requires local knowledge and that is why coordination is important. For example, in some parts of the islands there are places where males are not allowed to go as there are separate areas reserved for males and females. These are not things that you can easily pick up, but you might be able to do so if there are locals who understand the vagaries of the local customs. It is important that these are recognised and also acknowledged. Often the presence of any form of military presence can be a subject of interest and curiosity amongst the Islanders, and in most cases, they will extend nothing but their hospitality that most, if not, all Pacific Islanders are well known for. I think that this cannot be taken for weakness as most of them would expect that outsiders also return their courtesy and respect as well. This is simply a mutual human virtue. As was the case with RAMSI, most Solomon Islanders welcomed the arrival of the military intervention with open arms because they were fed up with the controls that the militants had over the government. However, gradually, there were underlying tensions that arose from cultural insensitivities, and a feeling of perhaps some superiority because of the differences in resources. These interventions can also create a sense of inequity naturally arising from the differences in resource endowment, but these can always be mitigated through careful planning, coordination and above all consultation. It is safer to always ask, than to try and what can be viewed as bulldozing, and then inevitably have these cultural conflicts.

The resources of the Australian Military will increasingly be drawn into what are non-traditional military roles, and the vulnerabilities of the region to natural disasters is likely going to be the major theatre for this, but recently we also had the military support the elections last week in Solomon Islands. That may not have been a rapid deployment, but it also raises the same kinds of issues with regards to operating beyond areas that are quite isolated and less exposed to outsiders. It is unlikely that the Australian military will be drawn into an operation that involves different States in the region, but at the same time we cannot underestimate the possibility of tensions that could arise from the outcomes of the referendum in Bougainville in October 1999. Any conflict in Bougainville would draw the two western provinces of Solomon Islands into that space just as any conflict in Solomon Islands would draw, Bougainvilleans to the conflict because even though they are politically two different countries they are geographically, culturally and ethnically the same people.

We stand at the cross roads; our resources, region, our islands and our fate seems to hang in the balance by the interest of others. Our desire however is to live peacefully, meaningful independent, and resourceful lives. Our destiny, however is in our hands and we can shape the future and region that we want but we cannot do it ourselves. No man is an island, just as no birds can fly without landing somewhere. As we see the increase in resources being dedicated to the islands because of the renewed interest in the islands, we ask that they be invested

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well so that we can use them to also become self-reliant and have a sense of independence and security; not security for and of others, but security in all its aspects; food and human security.


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25

Logistic Readiness: How Much is Enough?

Lieutenant Colonel Dave Beaumont

“Military writers are typically oriented toward the monumental rather than the mundane, drawn to the most sensational aspects of organised violence. Logistics, in contrast, has figured precisely as the residual and uncomplicated, even bureaucratic tasks that need doing once the sexy work of strategy is done.”

Deborah Cowen, The deadly life of logistics1

One of Martin Van Creveld’s most contentious, and subsequently debated, themes in Supplying War related to the persistent inability, if not unwillingness, of various armies to adequately structure and prepare themselves for the rigours of sustained combat.2 John Louth, writing in the British RUSI Journal more recently, saw this was a consequence of unrealistic expectations being made of logistics capability, the inability of logisticians to argue a case for investment, the general unwillingness of the organisation to accept their advice once offered, and the widespread misreading of the significance of lift and sustainment capabilities to numerous operational scenarios.3 Logistics is one of those topics where it easy to get lost in the magnitude of the problems that emerge with only a scan, but – as a Joint Force – we must delve into its dark recesses to better prepare the ADF for its future.

The ADF routinely encounters cross-roads where difficult decision regarding structure, posture and preparedness must be made. Some can be made ‘in-stride’ and are ultimately superficial in nature, or so internally focussed they are largely inconsequential to its capacity to respond to the crises before it. However, with respect to the capacity of the ADF to rapidly deploy and sustain the ‘joint force’, there are significant logistics readiness issues that have to be addressed if it is to be strategically relevant in the future.

Our partners, most notably the US, have been deeply investigating ‘logistics readiness’ and we should too. A major report to senior US Defence leadership cited significant shortfalls in the capacity of the US to project military power.4 This report recommended conducting realistic wargames and exercises to reflect threats and the capability of the ‘logistics enterprise’ to respond. Secondly, it advocated to ‘protect, modernise and leverage’ the mobility ‘triad’ of ‘surface, air and prepositioning’. Thirdly, it articulated the need to protect logistics data which


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is particularly vulnerable to espionage and manipulation. Finally, it recommended that the US must increase its funding to logistics programs to make anticipated future joint operating concepts viable. At present, they aren’t.

We are witnessing strategic competition and threats are ‘accelerating’ in scale and significance. Nations are jockeying for the freedom to move and act without contest. It is self-evident that militaries must be prepared for conflict, and responsive to crisis responses in environments not including the exchange of gunfire. But now, just as there was immediately after the Cold War ended, we really don’t know how much time we have to prepare ourselves for the next operation. In this lead-up to whatever comes the vast majority of our strategic problems are logistics in nature; the substance which really gives a combat force its form.

Logistics and preparedness

Logistics is not just a mere ‘enabler’, nor is it a collection of capabilities that is appropriately resourced and nurtured to assure that a military is ‘logistically ready’. The answer to our logistics problems could very well come from a greater allocation of Defence resources to some notable deficiencies we have in deployable logistics capabilities. But it’s also important to understand that this only addresses the simplest part of the problem. I view logistics as:

Logistics is a system of activities, capabilities and processes that connect the national economy to the battlefield; the outcome of this process is the establishment of a ‘well’ from which the force draws its combat potential or actual firepower.

Logistics is a consequence of many actions and many things. This complexity makes it difficult to find the right place to direct attention to, and what the nature of any reinvestment should be at any given point in time.

What, then, of ‘logistics readiness?’ Logistics readiness refers to the ability to undertake, to build up and thereafter to sustain, combat operations at the full combat potential of forces.5 It is the ‘water’ within the ‘well’ that is the logistics process.

Achieving a ‘logistically ready’ force is the sum effort of many activities undertaken in peace – from the efficacy of the modernisation program, the way in which materiel is managed and sustained, and the processes and policies set in place so that Defence commanders can control logistics. I’m sure you’ll agree that it is incredibly difficult to identify how much ‘logistics readiness’ is enough when – as the current CDF once said - the act of providing one bullet to the front-line might require one hundred logisticians and numerous capabilities on the path

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from the factory, through multiple Defence echelons over the course of weeks before it even gets into the unit magazine.

Nonetheless, ‘how much logistics readiness is enough?’ has been a question not too far from the lips of capability managers and commanders since war began. It has been a question asked because ‘logistics readiness’ is costly, and it takes resources from where we would really like to see them go. Therefore, it is important that we are efficient in how we establish the preconditions for readiness, but avoid the consequence of creating significant logistics risks that manifest in real problems on the battlefield. We can turn to history to show how difficult it is to ‘tread this particular line’.

Logistics and preparedness in action

Today’s story of logistics begins with industrialisation and the changing character of war.

Somewhere on the Eastern and Western Fronts of the First World War technology and logistics, hand in hand, buried heroic ideas of the soldier under spent ammunition cases, sacks of fodder, and equipment requisition orders. Industrialised, globalised warfare saw the supply lines increasingly become the ‘how’ which shaped the ‘what’. We remember the First World War for its ‘storm troops’, the guns, aircraft and tanks, and the doctrinal revolution which gave us early combined arms tactics and intellectual reform in some militaries. But it was also won by raw economic power transformed through military logistics processes into tangible combat potential and eventual military strength. Industry had always been inseparable from warfare, but now the importance of it being ready prior to war was blatant.

Supply continually occupied the minds of planners. Initially low levels of logistics readiness prevented strategic responses, despite the arms race that had preceded the war. This cost lives as it was much quicker to deploy soldiers into the field than it was to arm them properly. Initial ammunition shortages limited the ability of the British and allies to crack the German front-line; once mobilisation drove industry to full production two years later the problem shifted to one of available distribution capability. It took three years for the British to get in place before the ‘King of Battle’ could truly be unleashed.

Martin Van Creveld’s Supplying War describes that it was the mobility afforded by motorisation which brought logistics to the fore in war. The moment fuel was fed into an engine, the combined arms team became an arm of its logistics capability. Stalin reflected on the Second World War summing it up by stating ‘the war was decided by engines and octane.’6 Churchill exclaimed ‘above all, petrol governed every movement’. Fleet Admiral Ernest King, in 1946 to the US Secretary of the Navy, noted the Second World War as ‘variously termed as a


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war of production and a war of machines,’ but, ‘whatever else it is … it is a war of logistics.7

In a world of rockets and torpedoes, aircraft and submarines, where superpower interests went global, force posture, mobility and preparedness made the connection between war and logistics more obvious. Logistics readiness was reflected in the ability to move forces at transcontinental distances, or through well-supplied forward positions and propositioning fleets of ships. Manuel De Landa went so far to suggest logistics was leading rather than following strategy and tactics.8 Though De Landa might have been putting the ‘cart before the horse’, his statement was timely; this very year the US-led coalition took six months to deploy the US military’s strategic reserve to the Gulf region to ‘set’ an operation which could be won in 100 hours in motion.

Operation Desert Storm was won before the fighting began. We can talk of the importance of deception or the value of airpower, but it was seven million tons of supplies that made the ‘left hook’ of Operation Desert Storm reality. It was an operation made possible with lucky strategic timing; an operation conducted when American logistics resources were at their zenith and just prior to the US comprehensively drawing down its positions and supplies to fight a superpower war in Europe. General ‘Gus’ Pagonis, the US Army logistics architect, popularised this episode as ‘moving mountains’ in his best-selling book.9 The supply of refined fuels to Operation Desert Storm was so large, and the speed it was required so fast, it was highly unlikely that the operation could have occurred anywhere else in the world.

Treading into a time of strategic manoeuvre, Western militaries recognised that the real purpose of logistics was to bring as much power to bear as needed at any one point. The greater the level of logistics readiness, the easier it was to deliver a decisive outcome. Unfortunately, logistics readiness could no longer be based on the luxury of heightened resourcing and with the benefits of the forward positions the Cold War had provided. This made it made it crucial for Western militaries to be mobile and lean, capable of rapidly deploying with a sustainment infrastructure capable of impossible flexibility. Making a few assumptions along the way, these militaries of reducing size cut their logistics ‘tail’ with the aim of investing in better ‘teeth’ suited to this expeditionary age.

In the US a ‘revolution in military affairs’ not only set in but was matched by a ‘revolution of logistics’ which sought to replace mass with velocity, where the ‘iron mountains’ of Desert Storm were replaced by a belief that adaptive distribution systems could supply a force in the necessary time.10 The 1990s were a time where deregulation saw military organisations embracing organisational reform to reduce the cost of their ‘back of house’ functions. New business methods, outsourcing of organic capability, better professional skills and new technology characterised an approach to logistics that was believed to be cost efficient, but would also improve the mobility of the operational force. Rather than logistics readiness being underpinned by copious quantities of war-stocks, and sizeable

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support organisations, we really tried to design a logistics system that employed what we viewed as ‘best-business practice’ and delivered the right resources, to the right place, at the right time.

Ambition met reality south of Baghdad. In 2003 the US Army halted for an operational pause outside An Najaf. Though the advance faltered in a desert storm of ‘biblical proportions’, such a pause was patently necessary as the combat force simply outran their supply lines. A 2005 report by the RAND Corporation tells a story of tremendous logistics difficulties in Operation Iraqi Freedom.11 Some units lacked water, others food, certain commodities of ammunition had been all but consumed. There were insufficient vehicles to support the dispersed force, and the combination of a command desire to keep the force lean and a ‘just-in-time’ strategic approach to logistics flirted with disaster.12 The communications systems essential for command decision-making on the priority and allocation of logistics resources were incoherently spread throughout the force in an abortive modernisation program. The ability to project sustained military power over extended periods of time required quantities of the materiel of war that militaries had, ironically, fought so hard to keep from the theatre.

At the time this was happening, the ADF and Defence as a whole, was emerging from its own catharsis. In fact, the organisation was reforming itself about logistics and command problems which emerged in its own operational experiences. Operation Stabilise / Warden in East Timor in 1999 required a rapid response, but the logistics organisation to underpin the deployment had been incapable of anything other than operating in a state of permanent crisis. Twenty-year old assumptions about what constituted the readiness of the ADF’s logistics – assumptions that had driven force structure and preparedness choices right from the interface with industry to the tactical approach to logistics in the operational area – were challenged. The preceding two decades of force rationalisation saw many of the capabilities which enabled a rapid response reduced to woefully inadequate dimensions for the ADF’s largest operation since the Second World War. This year, two decades after this operation, I believe the ADF is still in remission and have not fully overcome some of the capability and logistics readiness gaps identified in the reviews and analysis conducted post-operation.

As much as these examples show that ‘logistics readiness’ is a partner to military effectiveness, they also reveal that context changes things. Logistics problems at one time, and in one area, might be meaningless in another. The logistics systems which support militaries at war are so vast and far-reaching that it can seem a miracle that they work at all!


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So, how much ‘logistics readiness’ is enough?

Logistics readiness refers to the ability to undertake, to build up and thereafter to sustain, combat operations at the full combat potential of forces.13

There are always problems in war and many of them relate to the level of interest we give to a particular area or topic, or the pattern in investment in Defence organisations. We could do much worse than imitating the findings of the US Defence Science Board report when addressing ADF logistics readiness deficiencies. Realistic expectations of the logistic system must be developed, mobility deficiencies overcome, logistics information systems developed and ‘logistics demand’ be reduced. In terms of our own Defence organisation, there are numerous reports already available which offer compelling cases to overcome specific logistics readiness deficiencies. Instead, I will focus upon a framework which could be of some use to us in our analysis of the problem, as well as in the development of solutions.

The first step towards improving logistics readiness is recognising that it is a product of routine and organisational behaviour, as much as it is about the appropriate allocation of resources to assigned strategic goals and the development of capabilities. This takes the matter well beyond basic preparedness requirements such as the identification of commonly used, but routinely compromised, preparedness metrics including ‘notices to move’ for logistics forces and capabilities. Logistics readiness is a function of total organisational performance and efficiency. A high standard of readiness is achieved by addressing six key factors that are applicable at all levels – from the strategic to the tactical.

Balance between logistics and combat resources and elements. You cannot escape a discussion on logistics capability without raising the concept of the ‘tooth to tail’. Defence organisations habitually compare combat forces to support forces, the latter of which are often considered ‘non-core’ to operational outcomes. It has featured in every review of Defence since the ADF was formed, and as the East Timor intervention showed, it’s very difficult to get a balance between logistics and combat forces right. In that operation the ADF was tremendously underdone, and barely sustainable. Force structure requirements can change with different ‘demand, dependency, duration and distance.’ Eccles argued that ‘no problem presents more difficulty than trying to determine in advance the most efficient balance of logistics resources and combat forces that will be needed for any campaign’.14 In reality, however, we don’t start with the right question in the first place. What we should be asking before we embark on any ‘tooth to tail’ discussion is ‘how do we deliver the most combat potential or firepower at the time and place of our choosing.’ Rather than a ‘tooth to tail’, perhaps we really have an ‘arm and a spear’.

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Logistics plans and policies. Assuming the ADF gets the force structure balance right, it must introduce the doctrine, plans and policies to use what is delivered appropriately. We must be serious about the possible wars of the future and start developing concepts and doctrine to suit. Governance and logistics reliability and assurance frameworks which ensure strategic and tactical concepts are viable depend on this analysis.15 We should devote time to understanding the changing nature of its workforce and the integration of its capabilities within the national economic infrastructure.

The ADF works well with partners, but a technology-centric future force will have to be better informed by good policies and doctrine that supports the flexible and scalable logistics support we require operationally. This effort shouldn’t be dismissed as bureaucracy, as it is the basis for accurate logistics planning – the quality of which determines exactly what resources will be needed and when. In the case of rapid force projection, there will simply not be the time to redesign logistics systems without severely disrupting the way in which the force will deploy. Sometimes adaptation will win us victory, other times it will do quite the opposite and create chaos at a time stability is required

Logistics organisation. Most large restructures of Defence organisations – such as the recent First Principles Review – are heavily influenced by the need to more efficiently and effectively organise logistics processes. In the wake of the First Principles Review, Defence has made progress in the way it modernises as a joint force.16 Defence and the ADF has adapted to operational needs over twenty years, and has a well-established ‘joint logistics enterprises’, a strategic ‘J4’ and ‘J07’ with articulated responsibilities, and Services which have accepted responsibility for the operational components of the joint force.

Time will tell how effective this organisation will be. In the meantime, we should study its strengths and weaknesses, and the how and why of its present design. This is because organisation influences the flow of information and will impact upon the quality and number of logistics staff devoted to the different tasks and efforts. Moreover, it will enable us to identify the right responsibilities for each component of the logistics process; given there is no one owner for logistics within Defence (save, perhaps, the Minister but even there responsibilities are shared), accountability and authority are incredibly important.

Materiel readiness. It may be self-evident, but the state of our equipment has as much an influence on preparedness as that of our people. Militaries ‘limp’ to war. The reason they do is what Dr Richard Betts describes as the ‘paradox of more is less.’17 The act of staying in a state of heightened readiness is not only expensive, but it can result in ‘evanescence and self-destruction.’ There comes a point where materiel and personnel become run down, supplies are exhausted and organisations are pushed to their limits. The ADF will need to carefully tread as it prepares itself for its challenging future to ensure that when the time comes, the technology it is so dependent on is available at the very moment it is required.


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This may require us to be inefficient and accept we must resource adequate stocks on our warehouse shelves or hold some of the ADF’s capability in reserve.

Logistics organisation must be tested. As mentioned earlier, the US Defence Science Board acknowledged the need for the logistics enterprise to be adequately exercised, and problems war-gamed. The ADF is no different to many other Western militaries, now or in the past, when it comes to the facilitation of realistic training for the logistics process and capabilities. In writing Logistics In the National Defense seventy years ago, and even after the lessons of the Second World War, Eccles described that ‘[t]oo seldom have the reports of these exercises included a realistic appraisal of the logistics problems and situations that would have been encountered under wartime conditions’.18

The best test of logistics readiness comes with exercises that begin out of routine business. In an interesting quirk of fate, Exercise Crocodile 1999 was supposed to be an assessment of the ADF’s capacity to raise from a position of minimum or present level of capability to its operational state. Logistics readiness was to be assessed; it certainly was, during a major intervention operation in September that year. While there are important outcomes to be delivered in the ADF’s present range of collective training events, as we consider what possibilities for war there may be on the horizon, it is worthwhile that we practice rapid deployment operations more often than we presently do.

Mutual Understanding and professional culture. Finally, and most importantly, logistics readiness is underpinned by the acceptance that it is a ‘shared problem’ that is only solvable through the mutual efforts of commanders and logisticians. Many documented problems experienced in ADF responses in the latter half of the 1990s and early 2000s came from conspicuous, self-admitted failures in the sharing of knowledge. Information and concerns become vital when managing risks, and managing risks is what military preparedness systems are fundamentally about. As we design our future ADF, or develop our operational concepts and plans, it will remain essential that conceptual problems are shared widely, and the concerns of all parties respected. An improved quality in the relationship between ‘combat commanders’ and logisticians must be strived for, as all of us will be critical if we are to win the war we next fight in.

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Conclusion

Specifics will change in war, but effective logistics readiness can make a combat force worth the organisational effort to raise or comprise its design entirely. Too many highly professional militaries have dismissed logistics readiness, and operations did not proceed as well as they might have had they not. There is always a temptation to focus attention inward and on what militaries such as our own do very well - preparing the elements at the forward edge of the operational area so that they may be as ready as practicable. Yet doing so risks compromises with respect to the preparedness of the logistics ‘system’ as a whole, or creates a logistics process that is inefficient or ineffective due to poor practices and inadequate discipline across the military. Either way, the ability of the ADF to rapidly respond to a crisis or threat will be constrained as a consequence.

There is a need for a much more detailed study of the ADF’s logistics readiness than this presentation offers. That being said, we are at a point where problems are already known. Actionable recommendations and actions must eventuate, posturing the ADF to better support operations in a strategic environment where threats are evolving in scale and magnitude. Effective logistics readiness finds its roots in a realistic appraisal of force structure, sensible operational concepts and doctrine, good policies and governance, and above all, an acceptance that our logistics problems require us all to work together to solve. It must be supported by adequate resourcing, an investment of technology that is sorely needed, and with a critical mind applied to practices that might have to change as the ADF faces the future.

Logistics readiness is for the professionally serious as it underpins much of what militaries can do operationally. It can influence the decision making of commanders. We may never know how many command decisions might have changed in Australia’s recent military campaigns had logistics constraints been better articulated and overcome prior to these operations beginning. In this regard, we start to venture into the realm of strategic decision making, where logistics truly becomes what Thomas Kane describes as the ‘arbiter of opportunity’, if not the arbiter of choice, and the true measure of whether a military is ready for combat.19


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Endnotes

1 Cowen. D., The deadly life of logistics: mapping violence in global trade, University of Minnesota Press, USA, 2014, p 3

2 Van Creveld., M., Supplying war, 2nd edition, Cambridge University Press, UK, 20043 Louth, J., ‘Logistics as a force enabler’ from RUSI Journal, June / July 2015, vol. 160, no.

3, Royal United Services Institute, UK, 2015, p 604 Defense Science Board, Task force on survivable logistics: executive summary, Depart-

ment of Defense, USA, November 2018, https://www.acq.osd.mil/dsb/reports/2010s/SurvLog_FinalReport_ExSumm.pdf [accessed 14 Mar 19]

5 Eccles, H., Logistics in the national defense, The Stackpole Company, USA, 1959, p 2906 Cowen, p 297 Ibid., p 298 De Landa, M., 1991, War in the age of intelligent machines, Zone, USA, pp 105-69 Pagonis, W. & Cruickshank, J., Moving Mountains: Lessons in Leadership and Logistics

from the Gulf War, Harvard Business Review Press, 199210 Maccagnan, V., Logistics transformation – resarting a stalled process, US Army War

College, https://apps.dtic.mil/dtic/tr/fulltext/u2/a424174.pdf, p 111 Peltz, E., Halliday J., Robbins, M & Girardini, K., Sustainment of Army forces in Op-

eration Iraqi Freedom, Rand Corporation, https://www.rand.org/pubs/monographs/MG344.html

12 Maccagnan Jr., V., Logistics transformation – restarting a stalled process, US Army War College, USA, 2005, https://ssi.armywarcollege.edu/pdffiles/PUB593.pdf [accessed 14 May 19], p 18

13 Eccles, p 29014 Eccles, p 29115 Eccles, p 29216 Department of Defence, First principles review of defence, Commonwealth of Austra-

lia, 2015, http://www.defence.gov.au/publications/reviews/firstprinciples/Docs/First-PrinciplesReviewB.pdf [ accessed 14 Mar 19]

17 Betts, R., Military readiness: concepts, choices, consequences., Brookings Institution Press, 1995

18 Eccles, p 30019 Kane, T., Military logistics and strategic performance, Routledge, UK, 2001, p 1

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The Australian Defence Force’s Growing Demand for Sea Lift

Lieutenant Colonel Clarke Brown

Introduction

The Australian Defence Force (ADF) has made significant improvements in its capacity to project force over the past 15 years. The acquisition of two Landing Helicopter Docks (LHD), a Landing Ship Dock (LSD) and eight C17s provide the ADF the ability to quickly mount and sustain expeditionary operations. These capabilities have proven highly effective in supporting operations in the Middle East and Humanitarian Assistance and Disaster Relief (HADR) closer to home. Today however, as the scope and scale of Australia’s Strategic Defence Objectives demand progressively more of the ADF, it is evident that the ADF will be challenged in generating sufficient lift to deploy and sustain the next force.

The challenge in accessing sufficient lift is not unique to the ADF. As like-minded nations survey their own security challenges, many have come to a similar realisation that their current platforms and supporting commercial arrangements are insufficient to meet their likely operational needs.1 Given Australia’s geography, a lack of sea lift is of special concern, restricting the ability to project force and generate influence through the region. This challenge is deserving of particular attention and is essential to ensure that the ADF’s high-end warfighting capabilities are not left geographically irrelevant in Australia’s time of need. Noting these challenges, I will examine three aspects of sea lift through this paper: first, a broad overview of the requirement for sea lift; second, a discussion to provide context around the shortcomings of commercial lift; and, finally, I will propose broad options to address capacity shortfalls.


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The requirement for sea lift

Despite modern technology delivering an exponential change in the character of war, the ability to mass more combat power than an adversary will likely continue to be a key determinant of success in war. This massing of combat power is considered a principle of war and is described as ‘concentration of force’.2 Given Australia’s preference to generate strategic depth through forward deployment, there is a clear requirement to mass this combat power in off shore locations. While air lift provides a means to deliver limited combat power, it is restricted by fixed infrastructure and given the size and weight of military equipment it is not feasible to generate mass by this means alone. Accordingly, sea lift remains the primary method to transport combat mass in support of expeditionary operations. The value of sea lift is reinforced through contemporary examples including United States operations in Iraq and British operations in the Falkland Islands; in both examples extensive sea lift was a key enabler of operational success.

In the ADF context there are three ships that have the capacity to generate military sea lift: two LHDs and the LSD, and these are the same three ships that provide the ADF amphibious capability and form the backbone of the Australian Amphibious Force (AAF). Of the scalable AAF, the Amphibious Ready Group (ARG) is the largest and most capable force package, structured around an Army Battle Group and embarked on the three amphibious vessels. The ARG is enabled to conduct an amphibious lodgement in a contested environment, with likely tasks to include securing an air or sea port to facilitate deployment of follow-on-forces. Importantly, the ARG is designed to be sustained from the amphibious vessels, which means that it is not feasible for these same vessels to be re-tasked in a sea lift role until follow-on-forces have arrived and the amphibious force relieved. With all military sea lift assets committed to the ARG, there is a gap in capacity to deploy follow-on forces, a force likely to be as a large as a combat brigade. Complicating the requirement to provide sea lift to a combat brigade is the introduction of larger and heavier logistics (Land 121) and armoured (Land 400) vehicles. These new capabilities will result in less vehicles being able to be embarked as part of the ARG and a corresponding increase in the requirement for follow-on sea lift.

Beyond the requirement to use the LHDs and LSD to support amphibious operations, the ADF has made significant use of these vessels to provide HADR in the region. Given the increasing frequency of this requirement, combined with Australia’s recent commitment to enhance engagement across the South West Pacific, there will likely be a greater ADF demand for sea lift. A common response to address both the follow-on-force and HADR requirement is to suggest the use of contracted commercial shipping. While this is a possibility, reliance on

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the commercial market in isolation generates a high degree of operational and reputational risk.

Commercial Sea Lift

As a collective there is far too much optimism that commercial ships will be available when called upon, with few understanding the challenges in accessing and mobilising commercial providers. The ADF presently accesses the commercial sea lift market through the Sea Lift Standing Offer Panel.3 While the panel provides a framework for access, the ability to contract suitable commercial shipping in an expedient manner is entirely a function of global markets. This ability has been complicated in recent decades with a commercial preference towards large bulk and crude carriers, at the expense of militarily useful medium sized general cargo carriers with integral lifting gear and Roll On–Roll Off (Ro-Ro) capability.4 Limited number of vessels of military utility now exist, very few of which are Australian flagged, which makes them more difficult and time consuming to secure.

Another factor complicating the use of commercial vessels is the requirement to consider the implications of contracting foreign flagged vessels. While in recent history it has been common place for the ADF to contract foreign flagged vessels in support of sustainment and retrograde operations, relying on these vessels for operational deployment creates risk. It is possible that the ADF may participate in an operation that generates international sensitivities and may result in another nation precluding their sovereign flagged vessels from participating. Similarly, there may be sensitivities among the registered mariners of affected nations which could either prevent their support or generate ADF security concerns. In addition, the environmental risks associated with ADF operations are also worthy of consideration and may result in a reluctance of foreign commercial operators to place their ships in environments of threat.

Given the challenges and possible restriction in the use of foreign flagged vessels, there is often an argument made for greater ADF engagement and utilisation of Australian shipping. Unfortunately, in line with trends of other Western nations, Australia’s maritime industry is in relative decline, which has seen a steady reduction in the number of Australian flagged vessels. A review of the Australian Maritime Safety Authority Vessels Register indicates that there are presently 56 vessels of military utility that may be suitable to support military operations.5 Of these 56 vessels, there are only six with any extended seagoing capacity, including vessels such as the Spirit of Tasmania, with the remaining vessels of smaller class and only suitable for operations in the immediate Australian archipelagic region.


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Despite their scarcity, the benefit of Australian flagged vessels is that the Government has the ability to requisition them in a time of need. Under the Defence Act 1903, Part VI – Special powers in relation to defence, Australian flagged vessels can be directed to a specific port, with limited or no notice for the purposes of supporting a military operation.6 Despite the legislative provisions, there are challenges relating to the practical application of these powers, including the threshold at which the government would seek to employ them. Additionally, Part VI of the Act makes no reference to the crewing of requisitioned vessels; unless a ‘time of war’ is declared and the provisions of Part IV of the Act apply, upon requisition the ADF may be liable for their operation.

Addressing the Problem

Noting the requirements for increased sea lift capacity and giving consideration to the challenges of commercial sea lift, there is a clear need to further investigate options to deliver assured sea lift to the ADF. A range of options to deliver this lift exist, each with their own unique benefits and challenges. In considering these options the ADF has the opportunity to champion a whole-of-government or indeed whole-of-nation approach and should seek to use this opportunity to generate a sustainable, enduring and flexible capability.

The obvious solution to address a deficiency in ADF sea lift is to acquire additional military sea lift assets. These sea lift vessels could either be built or purchased second-hand to be brought onto inventory and operated by the Navy. While such an approach may appear relatively straight forward, it will be challenged by a number of enabling capabilities, notably workforce and infrastructure. Given existing Navy modernisation initiatives, there are already considerable workforce and infrastructure pressures and it may not be feasible to manage the introduction of even more operational vessels at this time.

Another option is to adopt a similar approach to that of the United States Maritime Administration with the maintenance of the Ready Reserve Force.7 Under this arrangement sea lift vessels could be acquired and berthed at commercial ports across Australia. The ships could be maintained by a contracted partner to a pre-determined readiness and upon activation be crewed by members of merchant marine. The challenge to this approach is maintaining sufficient qualified civilian mariners to operate the vessels in a time of crisis. This proposal would require considerable investment in civilian maritime training institutions, potentially without the capacity to employ the qualified personnel beyond periodic activation of the reserve vessels.

Perhaps the most attractive option, is to follow a similar approach to that taken by the United Kingdom (UK) Ministry of Defence (MoD) in the operation

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of the Point Class Ro-Ro vessels. Under this arrangement the MoD has entered into a long-term lease with a UK commercial shipping company to provide four sea lift vessels.8 The company uses the vessels to support commercial operations, while being compelled to provide a specific number of vessels and their crews (who are Royal Navy reservists) at a designated notice to the MoD. The ships regularly support exercise and regional engagement activities and are an integral part of the fleet activity schedule. The UK approach could be readily transferred to Australian application and offers a range of benefits for both the ADF and the broader Australian community. First, it delivers a flexible and scalable approach to meet the primary requirement to provide additional sea lift capacity to the ADF. Second, it increases the pool of Australian flagged vessels, introducing competition to the local market and helping to expand the economic opportunities of regional communities. Third, it provides an opportunity to increase the pool of qualified Australian mariners, providing employment, trade and other commercial opportunities. Finally, depending on the approach to the procurement and construction of the vessels, it has the potential for a further contribution to Australia’s sovereign ship building capabilities.

Conclusion

The growth of the ADF’s sea lift capacity over the past 15 years has been impressive. It has delivered a more capable and regionally relevant force, though there remains room for improvement. The requirements to support a follow-on force and the introduction of larger and heavier land vehicles will stretch the ADF sea lift capability further than ever before. This combined with the Government’s desire for greater regional engagement necessitates an expansion of the ADF sea lift capacity.

Given Australia’s current set of strategic circumstances, it is no longer acceptable to rely on commercial shipping to fill the void in ADF sea lift capacity. Commercial shipping will undoubtedly continue to have a role in sustainment and retrograde operations, however, relying on commercial shipping to respond at short notice to ADF operational demands presents too great a risk. Trusting a third party to allow projection of the ADF’s high-end warfighting capabilities at a time and place of our choosing is not in Australia’s interest.

Multiple options to expand the ADF’s sea lift capacity exist, three of which have been described in this paper. Each of these options presents unique benefits and challenges, each is worthy of further consideration in isolation, or indeed as a composite, to ensure the ADF remains a credible regional expeditionary force.


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Endnotes

1 Department of Defence, Defence Science Board, Task Force on Survivable Logistics, November 2018

2 Australian Army, Land Warfare Doctrine 1, The Fundamentals of Land Power 20173 http://drnet.defence.gov.au/JCG/JLC/SLB/Pages/Standing%20Offer%20Panels.aspx4 Department of Defence submission to the House of Representatives Standing Com-

mittee of Infrastructure, Transport, Regional Development and Local Government; Inquiry into Coastal Shipping Policy and Regulations 2008.

5 https://www.amsa.gov.au/vessels-operators/ship-registration/list-registered-ships6 Defence Act 1903, Part VI – Special powers in relation to Defence7 https://www.maritime.dot.gov/national-defense-reserve-fleet/ndrf/maritime-adminis-

tration%E2%80%99s-ready-reserve-force8 http://www.foreland-shipping.co.uk/

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Op Quickstep Tonga: A Coy (-) 1 RAR Operations in Support

of Tongan Defence Services 18 – 29 November 2006

Colonel James Hammett

Background

On the afternoon of Thursday 16 November 2006, a pro-democracy rally was held in Tonga’s capital city, Nuku’alofa, with the aim of encouraging the implementation of political reform measures prior to the formal closure of parliament for the year on 23 November. The rally rapidly escalated out of control into a rampage of violent public disorder that resulted in approximately 80% of Nuku’alofa’s commercial businesses being burned down.

At approximately 1900hrs that evening, A Coy 1 RAR (as the Ready Company Group [RCG]), BHQ 1 RAR, and a variety of external support elements were recalled and commenced battle procedure for a short notice deployment in order to provide the Tongan Defence Services (TDS) with the restoration of law and order.

The deploying contingent completed all preparatory measures and were at RAAF Townsville by 0900hrs on 17 November, awaiting the word to board the RAAF aircraft when the deployment was cancelled, all members returned to barracks and were stood down for the weekend.

At 1800hrs that evening elements of A Coy were recalled, as 1 RAR was to deploy 50 personnel to Nuku’alofa and marry up with a similar sized New Zealand (NZ) contingent.

Force Composition and readiness

Due to manning caps, only 50 personnel were permitted to deploy. Given the initial impression that more A Coy and 1 RAR personnel would deploy as follow on forces, the decision was made to initially deploy as many infantrymen as possible. The force composition was as follows:


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1. Company HQ TAC: 6 (OC, CSM, Medic, Signallers x 3)2. Brigade Signals Detachment: 33. ‘Support Section’ (an additional Rifle Section): 104. Public Affairs Officer: 1, and5. 1 x Rifle Platoon: 30.

Due to the means of deployment (RAAF 707), the contingent deployed with man-pack equipment only. In addition to standard load lists, additional radios, rations and water were carried on board to provide flexibility with tasks and provision for delayed resupply.

Readiness was not an issue in force preparation. Given A Coy’s recent return from another short notice deployment to Timor Leste, standing RCG status, recent preparation for other Op QUICKSTEP branches and the prior evening’s activities, the contingent was well postured for any contingency

Arrival in Tonga: Integration with NZ Contingent and securing the Airport

The Australian contingent landed at Fua’amotu international airport at approx 1830hrs M, shortly after the NZ contingent and initial AFP contingent had arrived (this lodgement being only 18 hours since recall). Immediate actions were to unload the plane, move to a TDS camp to the East of the Airport and establish liaison with the NZ Force Elements. The NZ contingent consisted of 1 x Platoon, approximately 20 National Command staff and approximately 10 logistic staff.

It was immediately apparent that there was a disconnect between the orders provided to both NZ and Australian missions. The NZ Commander was adamant that the Australian forces were assigned under the Operational Control of his HQ and were to be used to reinforce the NZ Rifle Platoon; to provide the NZ Company Commander with a near full strength Company, with the Australian non-Infantry members intended to perform ‘ADF Liaison Officer’ roles. This was in contradiction to what had been briefed to the Australian mission – that the conduct of ADF operations would be autonomous, but required to conform to the broad NZ-led operational framework.

In addition to command status complications, the NZ and Australian missions and mandates were markedly different. NZ forces were initially tasked only to secure the airport; and their mandate did not allow for wider support to TDS or operations beyond the vicinity of the airport. The Australian mission was to provide support to the TDS, with a broad range of tasks approved.

The difference in both mission statements and the execution of them was the cause of initial friction at National Command level; however, this was overcome amicably and with both nation’s interests being supported.

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Op Quickstep Tonga

The first 24 hours saw the Australian Platoon assisting with the provision of security to the airport; namely by providing an ‘outer cordon’ and securing approaches to the area. NZ forces provided immediate security to the terminal building.

This timeframe was used by the Australian command elements to liaise with Tongan Governmental figures (including the Prime Minister), the CDF of TDS, AFP, DFAT and the Australian High Commissioner. A course of action was developed to achieve the specified tasks of the deployment and was subsequently approved by Headquarters 1st Division (exercising overall operational command from Australia)

Simultaneously, logistical assets were procured to enable operational autonomy and avoid reliance on limited NZ assets. The local staff of the Australian ‘Defence Cooperation Program’ (DCP) were instrumental in the securing of vehicles, mobile telephones and potential basing locations in Nuku’alofa.

Security Operations in support of TDS, Nuku’alofa

Having established the preconditions for conducting operations in support of TDS, the Australian contingent moved to Nuku’alofa. 20 troops were located at TDS Headquarters, the remainder (including Company HQ) located at Maysfield Naval HQ.

The TDS had specifically requested support by way of respite, as their troops available to conduct a multitude of tasks were thinly stretched. The Australian support consisted of the provision of Vehicle Check Points, Vital Asset Protection, Key Point Security, Quick Reaction Forces and joint patrolling. The caveat was made to the Government of Tonga and TDS that support would only be provided if TDS personnel were co-located and retained primacy. Australian troops were directed to avoid direct action regarding arrests, crowd control and raids.

Given that the assessed threat to the contingent was low, the usual grouping for the conduct of operations was a four man team. This enabled support to be spread widely across the spectrum of TDS tasks, and was always accompanied by at least the same number of TDS personnel. The additional radios deployed into theatre ensured communications were maintained across the dispersed force, and a section strength reserve was always maintained.

The TDS was a professional organisation which displayed good levels of both training and discipline. It was assessed, however, that the mere presence of ADF in Nuku’alofa provided a greater deterrence to potential agitators than the measures enacted by the emergency powers law.

Several deliberately planned operations were conducted, the largest of which was security for the formal closure of parliament on 23 November. This operation involved significant co-operation with AFP and some involvement by


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Tongan Police Force. Whilst no incidents eventuated, these operations served as worthwhile activities in regards to multi-agency planning and co-operation.

Maintaining unity of effort

At the initial liaison meeting conducted on 19 November, it was agreed that all agencies (ADF, AFP, High Commission staff, DCP and several other interested organisations) would make every attempt to ensure all efforts were mutually supporting and aimed at achieving the immediate tactical goal, namely the restoration of law and order within Nuku’alofa, with Tongan authorities postured to reduce their emergency powers.

The key to achieving unity of effort lay in regular liaison and joint planning. A meeting was held daily to allow all agencies to provide a summary of their previous 24 hours, offer feedback regarding respective agency activities and intent, and a forecast of future operations. These meetings were valuable in that they provided all parties with good visibility across all lines of operation, and input from less ‘traditional’ sectors (DCP, DFAT, etc) ensured a well-developed picture of progress and developments.

Co-operation and interoperability between ADF and AFP achieved very high levels during the deployment. Joint training and rehearsals occurred regularly, and both organisations routinely provided support to each other in order to enhance capability gaps. This interaction resulted in well-established drills, including tactical SOPs, command primacy of incidents, casualty evacuation, reaction to incidents and passage of information.

Public Affairs

The inclusion of a Public Affairs Officer (PAO) to the contingent, coincidentally coupled with the fact that one of the 1 RAR soldiers was of Tongan origin (with extended family resident in Nuku’alofa), paid dividends in supporting the Australian mission. A regular media presence (television and radio) was rapidly negotiated and secured by the PAO across Tonga’s media spectrum; and with the Tongan Australian soldier presenting as the ‘public face’ of the Australian contingent, key messages (such as the enduring primacy of Tongan authorities; the multinational forces playing supporting roles only; and the legitimacy of the deployment) were rapidly spread and accepted by the community at large.

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Op Quickstep Tonga

Logistics

No ADF vehicles were initially deployed due to the means of transportation. Sufficient rations, water and batteries were carried into theatre to equate to 5 days of stocks. The sustainment flights from Australia and ‘push’ resupply method rapidly ensured a build-up that achieved 16 days of stocks. While NZ was required to supply general stores, there was little requirement for this as the rapid resupply from Australia ensured logistical independence. Had the deployment been longer, resupply would have migrated to the NZ chain; this procedure was planned in detail with NZ staff and few problems were foreseen.

There was initial significant confusion regarding the administrative status of deployed AFP. Whilst they were able to procure accommodation and a limited fresh ration plan, they did not secure a robust supply of drinking water and were unable to access a myriad of expense items. The ADF contingent was more than happy to provide such items to the AFP, however this aspect of joint operations needs to be a consideration in all inter-agency operations.

Transport

Given that the NZ contingent had deployed with limited numbers of ‘Pinzgauer’ Light Operational Vehicles (and was governed by a restrictive mandate), the Australian troops were initially limited in operational capability. Administrative moves were provided by TDS assets (trucks and bus); however, the procurement of 4 x hired 4WD vehicles provided organic transport, means of casualty evacuation and mobility for quick reaction forces.

A specialist communications Land Rover was subsequently delivered from Australia via charter flight; this provided additional flexibility as well as assured communications across the area of operations.

Medical

The Australian contingent deployed with one Sergeant Medic; and the NZ contingent with a resuscitation team (less doctor). NZ was to provide strategic Aeromedical Evacuation capability; however, the aircraft was deployed out of theatre at short notice – to the surprise of the Australian contingent.

The potential for casualty treatment and subsequent evacuation was a cause of concern. Whilst Nuku’alofa hospital was assessed as ‘reasonable’, the availability of suitable personnel to provide treatment was a matter of chance. Only one surgeon worked at the hospital – however, he was also the Deputy Prime Minister and


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Minister of Health. Of the island’s two doctors, generally only one was in country at any time.

Communications

Rear link back to Australia was provided by the 3 Brigade Signals detachment, which enabled secure voice and data communications. The provision of the ‘communications’ Land Rover enabled constant, secure communications across the island of Tongatapu and was mission essential equipment.

National Command Element issues

The deployed contingent was not manned nor configured to perform the role of a National Command HQ, given the belief that further forces would be deploying to Op QUICKSTEP.

The major manning deficiency was lack of a ‘watchkeeper’ capability; as, due to the tempo of operations and requirement for continuous liaison, commander’s immediate direct communications back to Australia were not able to occur until late at night. This function was traditionally provided by an Infantry Company’s Second in Command and Mortar Fire Controller; however, these personnel were unable to deploy due to the manning cap. Furthermore, specialist logistic staff were also omitted from the deployment for the same reason – this resulted in challenges regarding the oversight of complex materiel accounting and financial issues (such as local purchase requirements).

Tactical SOPs, doctrine and TTP

There were no major deviations from doctrine or SOPs that eventuated during Op QUICKSTEP. A Coy’s recent experience in Timor Leste meant that all troops were familiar and practiced in the full spectrum of security operations.

Redeployment to Australia

Few issues were encountered with the contingent’s return to Australia. This is attributable to regular communications regarding the ‘RTA’ plan and superior support from Headquarters 1st Division.

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Op Quickstep Tonga

Conclusion

Op QUICKSTEP (Tonga) was a unique deployment with a mission that was arguably at the lower end of the spectrum of military operations. Despite this, the ADF deployment achieved its specified tasks, with the Tongan authorities postured to commence the final phases of their emergency powers when RTA occurred. All Australian and multi-national agencies involved worked towards a common goal and supported each other’s efforts, the results being the return of law and order to Nuku’alofa.


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49

Air Force’s Contribution to National Power Projection

Wing Commander Peter Hunter

Earlier this year, Heather Venable published a noteworthy piece on the War on the Rocks blog, arguing for a re-conceptualisation of the US Air Force’s approach to air power. In “More Than Planes and Pickle Buttons: Updating the Air Force’s Core Missions for the 21st Century”, she made some tough observations that are entirely germane to our thinking about force projection.

First, she suggested that only a more holistic approach to air power can push the US Air Force beyond its limiting, platform-centric mentality. Second, she suggested that the focus should shift from missions and platforms, to enablers and effects. And more generally, she helpfully underscores the need for us to ask some tough-minded questions around how we conceive of air power in the context of changing geopolitical circumstances.

This is a great starting point for thinking about rapid power projection opportunities, and the relevance of air power to that. On face value, that might seem to be all about the various technologies Air Force has acquired that will enable networked combat power to contribute to the joint force, and that this will be important in dealing with the challenges of power projection in the face of advancing “anti-access” technologies.

But since there’s already a whole school of thought that surrounds the 5th generation Air Force, rather than repeat those technical themes, this paper considers things from another angle, in light of the changes we’re seeing in our regional security environment.

The core issue to explore here is that the development of first-rate combat power is a necessary – but not sufficient – condition for an Australian strategic response to those changes. Or, to put it another way, that instead of focusing on the traditional military concept of force projection, the real opportunity is to look at the idea of national power projection.

This is an Opportunity to Re-Frame Our Strategy

Given the major changes underway in the Indo Pacific security environment, it its helpful to start with a few themes from the wide body of literature now available concerning those challenges.


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First is the idea that we’ve entered an age of constant competition, where power and influence are abiding themes. The need for military power and alliances isn’t going away.

Second, there are some like-minded regional powers who wish to sustain the rules-based-global order, but there are also revisionist powers who want to re-write those rules to their own advantage.

And third, those revisionist powers are applying the methods of political warfare and coercive diplomacy – including what’s variously described as the grey zone – to win without fighting. That is, to achieve their strategic objectives below the threshold of military conflict.

Winning Without Fighting is the Most Important Theme

In terms of how this all relates to military power and our concern with force projection, a key theme to highlight is the notion of “winning without fighting”. This is one of the fundamental tenets of the political warfare methods being pursued by revisionist powers like the Chinese state. This theme bears close examination, as it of profound consequence to our strategies for air power, and for the joint force, and force projection, and ultimately for national security.

So what is winning without fighting? In essence, its purpose is to achieve the rival power’s strategic interests below the threshold of outside intervention. Recognising the costs and risks of engaging in direct military confrontation–particularly with a major power like the US – the idea is to impose influence and coercion on such a scale as to not provoke a military reaction.

By skirting the trigger points that might provoke responses that are counter to its interests, the Chinese state incrementally advances its’ desired changes to the status quo while avoiding crises or outright conflict – literally winning without fighting.

Not only is this effective in the short term, its corrosive effect is a major contributor the long-term goal of irreversibly changing the status quo. With each transgression that goes unpunished, the rival power gains confidence that there will be no response to its next step. And while Beijing doesn’t hesitate to threaten the use of military force, at the same time, Xi’s China seeks to render our military capabilities irrelevant by achieving its goals below the threshold of warfighting.

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If We’re Not Deterring Them, Why Do We Keep Doing What We’re Doing?

It is important to emphasise here just how successful the Chinese state has become in achieving its strategic goals in spite of whatever deterrent effect we might think our military forces generate.

Whereas the west’s traditional conception of conventional deterrence tends to equate the possession of superior military force with the ability to deter undesirable national security outcomes, this just doesn’t seem to be working against the comprehensive coercion model we’re seeing at play in the Indo Pacific.

That is, although we persist in focussing on ideas like overmatch and ‘maintaining a capability edge’, as though they will continue to buy us the strategic outcomes we want, in the context of grey zone coercive diplomacy, it seems that in reality they do not appear to be having the desired effect at all.

So what is to be done? What might we do to address what one writer has called our ‘conceptual unpreparedness’?

We Need New Strategies Urgently

In ideal circumstances, we would have a clear national-level theory of victory – what might be called a grand strategy – that would address these issues and spell out what we are to do, in service of the immutable goals of protecting and advancing our national security and prosperity.

And for as long as such an over-arching narrative is unavailable, this leaves us to answer essential questions about how we use our National Power in response to the prevalent ‘winning without fighting’ model at play in the Indo Pacific.

In that context, Chinese and Russian publications are noteworthy for their strong emphasis on taking a comprehensive, holistic approach to wielding national influence. One of the more important Chinese works on this in recent years is called “Unrestricted Warfare”. It suggests an approach which:

“breaks down the dividing lines between civilian and military affairs and between peace and war… Non-military tools are equally prominent and useful for the achievement of previously military objectives. Cyber-attacks, financial weapons, informational attacks – all of these taken together constitute the future of warfare. In this model, the essence of unrestricted warfare is that the “battlefield is everywhere”.

It is only once we fully appreciate what this implies that it becomes clear why our own military capabilities – including those for force projection – are a necessary but not sufficient response. This is what is meant in the literature about our ‘conceptual unpreparedness’.


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So we Need to Recalibrate Our Peace-War Dichotomy. This Means we’ll Shift to an Era of Constant OPs to

Deal with Constant Competition

If the political warfare models being pursued by the revisionist powers so deliberately blur the distinction between war and peace, then perhaps we are not doing ourselves any favours by sustaining that distinction – including via our “phases of conflict” model. Instead, we need to move to a mode where we are ‘competing constantly’.

That is, we need to recalibrate out thinking so that our military forces become a tool of national power that is constantly operating. Not just in outright conflict scenarios, but all the time, for national influence. Of course, the nature of the operations will be variable, according to circumstance. But the underlying ethos needs to be that constant operations are the necessary condition for constant competition.

Unless we consciously seek to employ all the elements of our national power in pursuing our interests, Australia will struggle to compete with the tightly coordinated mechanisms being deployed by authoritarian regimes. And so we should explore options for the coordinated application of the elements of our national power in an effects-oriented strategy.

An Effects Oriented Strategy

US military doctrine has defined influence operations as:The coordinated, integrated and synchronised application of national,

diplomatic, informational, military, economic and other capabilities in peacetime, crisis, conflict and post-conflict to foster attitudes, behaviours, or decisions by foreign target audiences that further US interests and objectives.

In light of the coercive influences at play in the Indo Pacific, such an influence-oriented approach seems a helpful lens for defence’s contribution to national power in Australia, including through such effects as deterrence, counter-coercion, and denial.

For the purposes of this discussion, it is prudent that we concern ourselves with sovereign requirements – or what has sometimes been thought of as self-reliance. The capacity to rely on ourselves and to not be held hostage to external support or provisions should inform all our thinking around the kinds of effects it is realistic for us to aspire to.

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This is Contingent on Sound Analysis of what we can and Cannot Achieve

For such an effects oriented strategy to be plausible, we need to be starkly realistic about what it is that we are capable of achieving. This just means acting within our means. History is replete with examples of strategic failure due to over-reach.

Particularly for a regional power like Australia, with the national-power resources we have, our decision making needs to be firmly grounded in a clear-eyed understanding of our limits. To use the Australian vernacular, we can’t have champagne security goals on a beer budget. So the presentation earlier today on logistics is an excellent example. We have to be careful not to aspire to things we just don’t have the resources or reach to do.

We also need to conduct a rigorous analysis of how our rivals, competitors, and partners might respond to our efforts. Again, realism is the key. This will require assessments from our intelligence agencies about how our adversaries might respond to any given initiative or action, and any unintended consequences that might arise. To what extent might any influence or counter-influence activity actually achieve its intended purpose?

These kinds of analyses will be essential if we are to refine our thinking on these effects into the kinds of actions or outputs that we can ask our military forces to deliver.

More of the Same not the Answer

If our current model which equates military superiority with deterrence doesn’t seem to be working in grey zone scenarios, this begs questions around why we persist in the belief that it does.

Here it is important to underscore what’s been called the “fatal attraction” of air power. The core argument, according to that school of thought, is that through the latter part of the 20th century, air power (and special forces) have come to be regarded by western governments as an instrument of first choice. This is also sometimes called the “western way of war”.

This is because the accuracy and speed of these measures seem to offer very attractive options to politicians and decision-makers:

• They can be applied quickly: it is good to be seen to be doing something;

• They minimise the risk of putting our own people into harm’s way: jets and special forces teams appeal to decision-makers as speedy, small-footprint and deadly. The risk of friendly casualties appears much less.

• At the same time, they appear to reduce the political risk of collateral


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damage. That is, because they deliver violence with discretion and accuracy, the risk of associated knock-on political consequences is reduced.

So, since these options give the appearance of being low-cost, and low-risk, they have come to be regarded not only as indispensable, but as tools-of-first choice. And, lacking either the time, or the historical knowledge to fully explore whether the application of force will deliver the desired political outcomes, decision makers are prone to reach for them as attractive, readily applied solutions.

But given the winning-without-fighting ethos being used by the Chinese state, then this logic around ‘tools of first choice’ needs careful reconsideration. We may need to push back on the thinking which effectively says “air power is the answer, now what was the question?” Instead we ought to be getting after the right questions, and only then considering the tools for the job.

Creative Thinking About Effects

To more fully develop options and modalities for achieving strategic effects like influence and counter-influence, there is a great opportunity to recalibrate our thinking about how we use the platforms at our disposal. We need to look for ways to ensure our warfighting tool-chest is applicable not just to high-intensity near-peer conflict scenarios, but also to the more likely, more prevalent winning-without-fighting, grey zone scenarios we’ll consistently see in the Indo Pacific.

If, for example, we determine that we want to be able to achieve counter-influence effects in a particular geographic region, how might our sophisticated platforms and talented people contribute to those effects in a whole of government construct? Let us say, for example, we decided we wanted to do information operations that created a particular outcome: is it possible that we could creatively apply our newly acquired platforms to do unconventional Intelligence Surveillance and Reconnaissance (ISR) activities that are part of cost-imposing methods?

Some of the Things We Might do to Give Substance to Our Strategies

To give substance to these suggestions about an effects oriented strategy, it will be fundamentally important for strategic policymakers to engage in close dialogue with practitioners. It’s no good to set unachievable targets. Rather, we

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need constant, close interaction between strategists and operators so that there’s a symbiotic relationship between ends, ways and means.

Similarly, it will be essential to engage in detailed, frank dialogue at the multi-agency level. Only then can we rigorously understand how military capabilities might generate new, innovative options.

How we go about this is an open question. There are many modalities which can offer value – whether it be war-gaming, modelling and simulation, workshops, or commercial models like design thinking. The actual mechanism is less important than achieving the benefits that will come of innovative ideation.

Limitations and Difficulties

None of this will be easy. We’ll face many challenges, including from the transient advantage of technology, from the difficulty of finding and keeping the right people, and on to difficulties with institutional inertia, and with logistics and enablers.

Nevertheless, the bottom line is that if we are to succeed in an environment of constant competition, first and foremost we need to recalibrate our thinking about the applicability of military forces to ‘winning without fighting’ scenarios. As I mentioned earlier, I think it is essential that we recognise that military preparedness is a necessary-but-not-sufficient condition for meeting our goals. The real opportunity resides in the concept of national power projection.


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57

Rapid Force Projection – Definition and Options

Commander Alastair Cooper

Rapid Force Projection is an attractive concept; it provides a simple qualitative description to which most military organisations aspire. However if it is to be of use in the Australian Defence Force, it requires precision in its definition or, at the very least, some greater description of the context or purpose for which it might be applicable. Without this the term could have a wide variety of meanings, each with merit in different contexts. The purpose of this paper is to make a contribution to that through discussion of historical examples, posing questions which should be answered in understanding what rapid force projection is or what its purpose might be, and making some suggestions that should be considered to improve the utility of the term for the Australian Defence Force.

Rapid Force Projection has previously been defined in the Royal Australian Air Force’s Doctrine: up to the 1998 3rd edition of the Air Power Manual, it was a core air power capability and defined as:

“… the deployment of military power to locations in or near an area where the government wishes to increase significantly its strategic influence on the basis of force. It is an end and a means.”1

Subsequently, the most recent 6th edition does not mention it.2 Nor is there a definition in the current Australian Defence Force, Navy or Army capstone doctrinal publications.3

Notwithstanding the current lack of a working definition, there are many examples of what might be termed rapid force projection in Australian military history. In 1914, the Australian Naval and Military Expeditionary Force commenced recruiting on 10 August, deployed from Sydney on 19 August and was in action at Rabaul on 11 September, successfully taking control of the German-held territory and radio communication facilities.4 In late 1941 Australia deployed forces rapidly to the significant locations of Ambon, Rabaul and Koepang; Gull, Lark and Sparrow Forces.5 These were not as successful, being defeated by the Japanese in January and February 1942, although elements of Sparrow Force remained active on Timor into 1943.6

Japanese actions in 1941 and 1942 could also be described as rapid force projection. One of many examples is the Kido Butai, the Imperial Japanese Navy’s carrier-based task force, which conducted operations from Pearl Harbour in Hawaii in December 1941, to Darwin in Australia in February 1942, to Ceylon in April 1942 and the Coral Sea in May 1942.7 The distances covered were


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truly hemispheric, covering between 16 and 20 thousand nautical miles in six months, and largely successful operations.8 The Battle of the Coral Sea was the one instance which was not wholly successful; while the action was tactically inconclusive, without assured sea control, the Japanese decided not to attempt a maritime assault on Port Moresby. This inability to project power led to the decision to attempt to take Port Moresby via the overland route of the Kokoda Track. Similarly, during the First World War, the British inability to rapidly project force through the Dardanelles led to the 1915 Gallipoli campaign. It is worthwhile noting, then, that the ability to prevent rapid force projection can be as important as the ability to project force.

Rapid Force Projection can be seen in quite different forms. On numerous occasions Australian naval vessels have conducted varying forms of humanitarian assistance and disaster relief in the Southern Ocean.9 These included a wide variety of constabulary operations such as medical evacuations, emergency resupply, rescues at sea and arrest of illegal fishing vessels. One particularly noteworthy example was in January 1979 when HMAS Hobart was dispatched from Sydney to Macquarie Island, over 1200 nautical miles to the south, to evacuate a badly injured Australian Antarctic Division scientist. Notified on January the 4th, the ship sailed out of a leave and refit period on the 5th, setting her main propulsion to work as she departed Sydney. On the passage south a temporary helicopter deck was built on the ship’s quarter deck to receive the small helicopter from the island. The scientist was embarked, using the helicopter and temporary deck on January the 8th and then disembarked in Hobart, a 900 nautical mile passage in 39 hours, on the night of the 9th and 10th.10

HMAS Kanimbla’s humanitarian and disaster relief (HADR) work following the Nias earthquake in March 2005 is another example of rapid force projection.11 Already in the region as a result of a previous HADR operation to assist following the 2004 Boxing Day tsunami, Kanimbla was able to rapidly respond to the further emergency, illustrating the value of consistent regional presence.

These examples demonstrate that rapid power projection can vary widely in form, range and conduct. For the Australian Defence Force to use the term in anything more than a descriptive sense, several questions must be answered.

The first and most important is under what circumstances does the Australian Government require the Australian Defence Force to be able to respond rapidly? Implicit in this are further questions of where and at what range must the rapid power projection occur and, perhaps most significantly, how is it to occur. Small scale HADR operations in permissive environments involving only one unit should always be possible, reflecting a mind-set and culture that enables achievement (taking calculated and practiced risks, with an understanding of the engineering maintenance and logistics implications). However, stabilisation, non-combatant evacuation operations or military power projection operations are likely to be much larger in scale, requiring mobility in mass which is much

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more difficult to achieve, particularly if it must be sustained at any distance from Australia’s national support base.

It is also worth noting that movement around Australia already involves movement over significant distances. Figure 1 below shows some indicative distances. Simply to move around Australia involves travelling distances which enable power projection from Australia. The chart also demonstrates that being deployed routinely in the Indo-Pacific region and engaging with neighbours and partners can reduce the distances required to respond. In this way, rapid power projection is enabled by partnerships and trust just as much as it is by the range, speed and endurance of the units involved. This is a function of routine and enduring diplomatic engagement; while it is focussed on naval forces, the book You Cannot Surge Trust encapsulates this idea of cooperation in ordinary times to enable cooperation in extraordinary times.12

Figure 1 – Some indicative distances around Australia and the region

It is also worth questioning whether rapid force projection will necessarily continue to be done exclusively by the means it has in the past. The examples discussed in this paper all involve the physical deployment and movement of Australian military forces. Pervasive communications, internet connected critical infrastructure and the virtualisation of many activities might enable projection of force at the speed of light.


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A working definition of rapid force projection should therefore have at least four components.

1. A basis in Australian interests, including under what circumstances, to what ends, how far and by what means.

2. An understanding that mobility in mass is likely to be the most difficult task in a military or warfighting sense.

3. An appreciation that prevention of rapid force projection might be necessary.

4. Consideration that rapid force projection might be possible through non-traditional means such as information operations or cyber networks.

It is possible that rapid force projection might not be able to be defined in a way that enables incorporation into Australian Defence Force doctrine, and that it remains a headmark to the manner in which the Australian military responds to Australian Government direction; that it is a reflection of culture as much as it is physical capability.

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Endnotes

1 AAP1000, Royal Australian Air Force, The Air Power Manual 3rd edition (Air Power Studies Centre, Canberra, 1998), paragraph 4.32, p40.

2 AAP1000-D, The Air Power Manual 6th edition (Royal Australian Air Force, Canberra, May 2014)

3 Foundations of Australian Military Doctrine 3rd edition, ADDP-D (Defence Publish-ing Service, Canberra, 2012); Australian Maritime Doctrine; RAN Doctrine 1, 2010 (Sea Power Centre – Australia, Canberra, 2010); and Land Warfare Doctrine 1; The Fundamentals of Land Power 2017 (Australian Army, Canberra, 2017).

4 https://www.awm.gov.au/articles/encyclopedia/anmef retrieved 21 Apr 20195 https://www.awm.gov.au/articles/blog/1942-timor retrieved 21 Apr 20196 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sparrow_Force retrieved 21 Apr 20197 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1st_Air_Fleet_(Imperial_Japanese_Navy) retrieved 21

Apr 19.8 The distances covered are a very rough calculation of the straight-line distances from

Japan to Hawaii to Darwin to Sri Lanka and then to the Solomon Islands. The actual track taken by the task force ships varied significantly and was probably a greater dis-tance. See https://sea-distances.org/ for a general calculator.

9 Semaphore (Sea Power Centre Australia, Canberra, October 2006) at www.navy.gov.au/media-room/publications/semaphore-october-2006 retrieved 21 Apr 2019.

10 http://www.navy.gov.au/history/feature-histories/naval-ingenuity-case-study retrieved on 22 Apr 2019.

11 http://www.navy.gov.au/hmas-kanimbla-ii retrieved on 22 Apr 2019.12 Gary E. Weir and Sandra J. Doyle (ed), You Cannot Surge Trust; Combined Naval Op-

erations of the Royal Australian Navy, Canadian Navy, Royal Navy and United States Navy, 1991-2003 (Department of the Navy, Washington, 2013).


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East Timor - Was it Rapid Enough?

Professor Craig Stockings

I have been asked today, in the context of a conference centred on the idea of Rapid Power Projection, to speak to you about the International Force East Timor, or INTERFET, deployment to East Timor on 20 September 1999. Specifically, the question on the table is: was that deployment—that ‘projection of power’, if you will—rapid enough?

Before I begin to craft an answer, it is well to cast our minds back some 20 years now and remember the critical political and strategic circumstances of INTERFET. At its peak the INTERFET coalition deployed to East Timor was made up of contributions from 23 countries and numbered close to 11,000 military personnel, all under the leadership of an Australian commander—the then Major General Peter Cosgrove—and what equated, more or less, to an Australian headquarters. The ADF provided more than 9300 personnel to this coalition, with as many as 5500 in East Timor at any given moment. It was the single largest deployment of ADF personnel since the Second World War, larger than the commitment to the Vietnam War at its peak in 1967. Critically, it was also one that was not nestled within a larger or lead nation’s logistics and administrative infrastructure. It was also the first time Australia had led such a large multi-national force: and all from a standing start. In short, INTERFET was the most complex strategic challenge Australia had faced, at least since the 1940s. Moreover, the operation proved to be one of the most successful United Nations (UN)-sanctioned peacemaking missions ever seen.

For all that has happened since, I can tell you that politicians and ADF officers at the very highest levels in 1999 worried more about what might unfold as INTERFET deployed to Dili than over any other issue at any other time in their careers beforehand, or afterwards. This was our backyard, and it involved our most important northern neighbour. It was also our show. If it all went badly—and this was perceived at the time as a real risk—the consequences were potentially disastrous.

Now back to the question. Given the nature of this conference and this audience let me do something a little different for an academic: let me avoid mealy-mouthed language and indefinite qualifications. The ADF deployment to East Timor in 1999 was indeed rapid enough in the narrow sense that troops arrived in accordance with the political, diplomatic and strategic deadlines set. But the word ‘arrived’ is the key here. I suspect you are not interested in ‘arrivals’; these are often nothing more than compilations of passenger manifests and flight plans. If the question is instead rephrased into: ‘Was the ADF able to muster,


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sustain, and project—ready for high-tempo operations—significant combat power into East Timor at short notice in 1999 to achieve a decisive coercive or military effect?’, then the answer is a categorical ‘No’. We arrived. We did not ‘project force’ into this theatre in any sensible understanding of the term. We fell over the line. We stumbled into a benign environment where we acknowledged we might need to fight. We were in no position to conduct sustained combat operations, the outbreak of which was beyond Australia’s ability to control.

I would go further and suggest that the ADF as a whole was simply incapable of projecting power on any significant scale at this time. This was no fault of the troops. Most combat units, even if they crashed through their notice-to-move requirements, were ready, if largely ignorant of what they might face. But the idea of a projection of force in its fullest connotation means much more than the tip of the spear - it means the whole spear and spear throwing system. We ought not to let the overall success of the INTERFET deployment mask its essential and inherent weaknesses.

With my position clear, let me spend the rest of my presentation explaining and justifying this conclusion. Please note at this stage that this presentation in unclassified, and is necessarily missing some of the technicalities and the references that would be included in a classified paper. You will also notice that I have refrained from giving names. These are simply not required for the points I wish to make.

True ‘force projection’ to East Timor did not occur—and, in fact, could not occur given that nature and state of the ADF in 1999—more on account of command and control and enabling, than combat functions. The natural place to begin in this context, then, is at the top: at the critical level of strategic and operational planning. Two central factors significantly affected high-level planning for INTERFET, making an already difficult task that much harder. The first was the way in which the very strong imperative towards secrecy connected to any and all whole-of-government consideration of a potential ADF operation in East Timor, hamstrung the military planning process throughout the first eight months of 1999. Decisions taken to enforce the strict close-hold of information went beyond typical need-to-know principles. Choosing not to brief units, commanders and staffs who had a clear ‘need’ into the East Timor ‘compartment’ certainly helped preserve secrecy, but it also deprived the ADF at an operational and tactical level of the ability to undertake prudent and efficient planning and preparations. The net result was a desperate scramble in September to put together the plan at every level, with consequential gaps, duplications of effort and a lack of coherence.

In 1999 the ADF certainly had a doctrinal conception of how it might plan, mount and conduct a large-scale military operation. Though flexible in its application, the basic theoretical design blueprint was to begin with the creation of a Military-Strategic Estimate (MSE) that turned political directions and intent received from the National Security Committee of Cabinet into a clearly articulated set of objectives with relation to a particular issue or crisis.

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This estimate was important because it would provide overarching guidance to senior ADF headquarters as to why the Australian government was considering the military option, what it hoped to achieve through the use of the ADF, and the limitations on the use of that force.

After the MSE was drafted, approved and disseminated, the CDF, advised by the Strategic Command Group (SCG), would issue orders for Headquarters Australian Theatre (HQAST), an antecedent of Headquarters Joint Operations Command, to develop a theatre concept of operations (Conops). This document would take the intent promulgated in the MSE and match it with capability to produce a broad outline of how the ADF would operate to achieve the political goals set. Once approved by CDF, this theatre-level CONOPS would itself then be provided to the designated conducting headquarters for the operation; in the case of the Timor crisis, this was the Deployable Joint Force Headquarters, DJFHQ. This headquarters in turn would repeat the process, initially crafting an operational/tactical CONOPS of its own. Meanwhile, ‘component commanders’ from across the three services would be assigned to DJFHQ, along with force elements as the plan matured. With DJFHQ’s CONOPS agreed, detailed operational planning would then commence through those ‘components’. Specialist expertise would be drawn from across the ADF as required. All the while developing plans would be briefed back up the chain to ensure the final product was militarily practical, and in alignment with government intent.

While this process was dynamic, it was nonetheless meant to be hierarchical: intent was promulgated from political leadership through a series of layers to the tactical level. The process was also meant to be ‘joint’, relying on input from air, sea, Special Forces and land components at DJFHQ and tri-service staff at both HQAST and ADHQ. This would be particularly important in the context of a deployment such as INTERFET, which relied entirely on the RAN and RAAF to move, sustain and protect the land forces.

This ideal process did not happen for INTERFET. It was rendered unworkable by the strict compartmentalisation imposed and driven very explicitly by the not unreasonable belief within senior levels of Dfat and PM&C that public knowledge of contingency planning, either through leaks or the visible prepositioning of troops and material, could harm the relationship with Indonesia and the attempts to resolve the situation in East Timor peacefully. While a level of compartmentalisation was standard ADF protocol, the degree of secrecy regarding East Timor was a significant deviation from doctrine and from practiced staff procedures. The diplomats knew their line and seemed to care little for any resultant difficulties or inconvenience for Defence. Yet ADHQ, too, demanded the compartments remain in place, determined not to put colour or motion into planning until the last possible minute on the grounds that public knowledge would lead to debate, political pressure and wasted staff energy.

The immediate and most severe consequence of such decisions was the evaporation of the planning process itself. A deployment of the size and scope of


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INTERFET demanded careful, informed and intensive planning. Denied this by the demands of secrecy, when overt preparations were finally permitted in early September, crisis and hurried planning by necessity took the place of a broader, more considered and deliberate process. The absence of strategic guidance from ADHQ was often viewed at subordinate headquarters as a lack of leadership. While there was plenty of dialogue, there was no real articulation of an Australian strategy downwards early enough for it to make a difference. Hurried emails thus replaced formal and endorsed planning media, with a commensurate lack of visibility and accountability. The result was a reverse planning sequence where the tactical and operational levels were forced to plan with limited formal guidance. All levels of subordinate command felt insufficient direction was given in a timely manner, and each blundered on, exposed, in the semi-darkness, as best they could and in the direction they thought most appropriate. Indeed, the need to provide INTERFET with thorough strategic and policy guidance was still under discussion by Secretary’s Committee for National Security in mid-October, more than three weeks after the operation had actually launched.

In many cases the most obvious and dramatic consequences manifested themselves at a unit and sub-unit level. Units which were unable to prepare beforehand were forced to deploy in timeframes well short of their notice-to-move timings. After the fact, Australian INTERFET Commanding Officers spoke with one voice in this regard. Short lead-times for training, marshalling equipment and personal administration subsequently left the force with serious capability deficiencies. This was true even within high-readiness units. The rapid changeover from its Services Assisted Evacuation responsibilities to those of the INTERFET’s Special Forces component, for example, left the SAS poorly structured and ready for deployment - imbalances not corrected until October. Problems were also evident within 3 Brigade units, from which the bulk of the INTERFET force was drawn, despite the fact that most of these were already poised on very short notice-to-move timings compared with most of the rest of the ADF, and had been quite deliberately better resourced than any other formation for years. Despite having elements on up to 28 days’ notice to deploy, most of the 3 Brigade Group was deployed within 11 days of confirmation it was to leave Australian shores; and this included substantial preliminary moves by some units to a mounting base in Darwin. There was no useful time for subordinate elements to conduct detailed planning or anticipatory action.

The result was increased risk. Time for mission-specific training (including instruction on East Timorese history, language and culture) and equipment preparation was limited. Crucially, opportunities for training associated with ‘rules of engagement’ (ROE) were also severely curtailed. The fact these rules were issued just 72 hours before the launch of the operation was a universal concern for tactical commanders. In an absence of higher direction, 3 Brigade’s Legal Officer had no alternative but to conduct ROE training in Townsville prior to its official release based on what he felt the real ROE might look like. The picture of what

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awaited them in Dili and beyond also remained obscured at a unit-level; 2RAR could not even secure a sufficient quantity of maps and was forced to photocopy the limited stocks on hand. As late as 16 September, with 3RAR forward-deployed to Darwin, its Commanding Officer was frustrated that the tactical information being provided to him felt shallow and inadequate, and was left wondering why the ADF still seemed to not want to allow key commanders access to relevant information.

A wider context to INTERFET’s planning frictions and difficulties was a distinct lack of real ‘tri-service-ness’ within the ADF in 1999. Certainly the organisation had the trappings of service integration and cooperation, best embodied by the theatre concept itself. Form, however, did not equal substance. The large Kangaroo Exercises of the 1980s had failed to bring the three services under effective joint command or to prioritise or establish efficient joint movements or sustainment arrangements, and little had been done since to test high- level ‘jointness’ in anything other than an administrative environment. Under pressure the organisation reverted to what it knew, and with what it was comfortable. This did not always equate with ‘jointery’. Rather, without deep cultural acceptance, the veneer of tri-service was maintained - until it mattered.

A useful case study in this regard was Cosgrove’s own headquarters. In many ways DJFHQ was a model concept, with theories about how it would come together in a crisis, but it had not practised beforehand in anything more than restricted, ‘tabletop’ ways. Comprehensive and robust joint planning, joint doctrine and joint procedures were lacking, as was a joint perspective. In August and September 1999 DJFHQ was essentially an army headquarters, labelled ‘joint’, and fitted for (but not adequately staffed with) the other two services. There was no substantive or dedicated joint staff other than single RAN and RAAF liaison officers. When air and sea component staffs eventually arrived to supplement the headquarters late in the INTERFET planning process, it proved difficult even to provide office space, communications, and computers to them. Nor had Cosgrove previously worked with either his air or maritime component commanders.

Neither was the culture at DJFHQ, by instinct, inclusive. When he arrived at DJFHQ the naval component commander realised quickly that the headquarters planning staff had been meeting largely without RAN or RAAF representation. He was forced to knock on a door and ask to be included in their briefings. Unsurprisingly in this context initial directives from DJFHQ were possessed of a land-centric flavour which did not always seem to consider, or understand, maritime issues. From a RAAF perspective, the air component commander recalled on his own arrival at DJFHQ that he felt strange at first—a deployable joint headquarters that was really an army headquarters. The nuances of a whole new environment had to be learned on the run. Certainly at the top DJFHQ was welcoming, but the newcomers did not always get that impression at a lower level. Army planners seemed unaccustomed to the other two services questioning what they might be doing, and why they were doing it.


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Problematic tri-service relationships were of course not a unique characteristic of DJFHQ but a feature of the ADF as a whole in 1999. There was a lack of confidence within segments of the ADF’s leadership in joint planning procedures rather than single-service processes, and strong feelings that professional mastery was only to be found in a single service environment.

On the logistic front, poor joint planning resulted from inadequate joint logistics doctrine and procedures, a lack of a joint logistics perspective, and poorly practised and imbalanced joint logistics staffs at the operational level. Moreover, logistic planning, such as it was, was marked by a clear tendency for the ADF to fall back on its traditional single service processes. The RAN and RAAF were both well practised and very capable in supporting their deployed logistics capabilities. They owned the transport assets and routinely operated independent supply chains to satisfy their single-service needs. Despite the existence of the tri-service Support Command - Australia (SCA), all three services attempted to exercise de facto ownership of their single-service logistic components. SCA thus came very late into the logistics planning loop, and in the vacuum ad hoc arrangements dominated. The bottom line was that during the INTERFET planning period the ADF was disturbingly ill-prepared to do anything that required joint tri-service coordination.

As a consequence of the factors I have described, perhaps the most worrying of all INTERFET’s planning problems was the logistics conundrum. Across the board, requests for strategic-level logistic information from a range of ADF logistics headquarters were simply never met. As a result there was effectively no pre-deployment effort to identify and articulate workable stock scaling and line items to be held in East Timor, particularly at a force-level. The result was a failure to empower high-level logistic commanders, much wasted staff effort, and missed opportunities for effective logistics staff planning before the operation was finally launched. Indeed, there is little evidence that a logistic ‘Military Appreciation Process’ was applied at the strategic, theatre and operational levels of command at any point.

Compounding the problems of secrecy at the highest levels was, perhaps, a wider failure to understand the importance of logistics and logisticians within planning processes themselves in favour of a preoccupation with operations and tactics. Nor was there any institutional framework to demand appropriate high-level attention be paid to logistics. In 1999 there was an absence of any broad and appropriately detailed joint logistic doctrine that dealt with planning, organising, directing, coordinating, and controlling the flow of materiel and services from industry through the logistic pipeline to deployed joint forces.

At a tactical level, specific problems arose out of the fact that the operational plan for the INTERFET lodgment had come out of a 3 Brigade concept of operations for a ‘light footprint’ short-term Services-Assisted or Services-Protected evacuation, with extremely limited logistic assets, and with little need for operational-level logistic support. When the plan was hastily transformed into

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a larger lodgment, it remained focused on 3 Brigade—a formation-level, not a force-level—affair. Naturally, given the plan’s origin, there was virtually no initial logistics input above the BASB (unit)-level. The LOGCC was not brought into the planning loop until after operational planning was completed, forcing him to plan retrospectively to meet the requirements and structures which had already been established. The absence of close engagement between operational planners with the logistics planners earlier in the planning cycle resulted in hurried and incomplete work.

Less than optimal logistics ‘solutions’ at a force level were the result. At one stage, for example, the initial sustainment water plan involved sourcing from the low water table in East Timor. The initial sewerage plan, however, was to deposit waste in the same low water table. In an ideal logistics planning scenario, supply issues might have shaped the INTERFET plan; but instead it was expected that logisticians could catch up, or that operations once in East Timor could be constrained, if needed, by logistics shortcomings. Combat troops on the ground were the priority; the rest would have to take care of itself.

On another level, problems associated with logistic preparations for the INTERFET deployment went much deeper. Existing ADF logistics structures simply could not cope with the need to ramp up for the INTERFET deployment within the space of a fortnight. Any capability to do so had been fundamentally eroded in the preceding decade as a consequence of the recommendations of a series of reviews aimed at ‘efficiency’, which all too often simply meant cost-cutting. Many of these initiatives had a direct and significant impact on the ADF’s ability to provide logistics support to a significant offshore operation. The prevailing logistics philosophy throughout the late 1980s and 1990s was aligned with a strategic outlook set in place by the Defence White Paper of 1987 that placed a primacy on operations in the defence of Australia rather than projecting force elsewhere, and a focus on the operational ‘sharp end’, rather than the logistics ‘blunt end’ of the Defence organisation. As such, a bare minimum of logistics specialists could be held as a cadre in Australia, not to be deployed, to be supplemented from civilian sources if required. The ADF, in the words of one senior officer, had ‘cut the guts out the logistics organisation’, and ought not to have been surprised that the chickens were coming home to roost.

Yet it would be incorrect to blame the ADF’s poor logistic positioning for East Timor in 1999 solely on the strategic footing adopted by the government in 1987. There was a pervading view among ADF logisticians that operational logistics had not been regarded as a necessary part of the strategic command process, and both unit and force logistics stocks and personnel had been decimated accordingly. Logistics in 1999 remained a poor cousin to the focus within the ADF on operational capability and new equipment. As part of a range of military logistics functions subsequently contracted to commercial operators (and therefore of no use for a deployment to East Timor) the ADF had made substantial cuts to specialist personnel in areas such as movements, stevedoring, water transport,


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fuel operations, postal and amenities services. Meanwhile, perpetual shortfalls (like a strategic logistics lift capacity) remained problematic. In a decade’s worth of rationalisation and reform the army had shed around 2000 specialist logistics personnel. Stocking levels were low under a principle of ‘just-in-time’ purchasing from commercial sources. Buzz phrases like ‘lean is right’ and ‘surge industry’ abounded. Contracting was touted as a panacea to all ills. The consequences were stark.

Unsurprisingly, the hollowing out of the wider ADF logistics system in the 1990s had also had a deep impact at the unit level. By 1999 key LSF sub-units such as 30 Terminal Squadron had less than a troop of terminal operators, while 176 Air Despatch Squadron had fewer than a troop of despatchers, and 26 Transport Squadron (which had an authorised strength of four troops of 70 soldiers each) consisted of only two understrength troops. On the eve of its crucial deployment to Darwin, Headquarters 9FSB had no Operations Officer, and only half of its operations staff. The unit deployed with 500 instead of its complement of 700 soldiers, and 150 of those 500 were reservists. Its sister battalion, 10FSB, was a little better manned, but not greatly. The three largest units from which the LSF had been formed—a terminal regiment, a transport regiment, and a field supply battalion—had lost around 40 per cent of total manning from 1992. What remained was concentrated in logistics units within brigades, but even these were too small for their tasks. This was doubly so given the numbers authorised to deploy from 3BASB were slashed from a full complement of around 500 troops to about 200 on the eve of the deployment to keep within manpower ceilings. As a result 3BASB went from five companies to a single composite company group. A general indication of individual soldiers’ faith in the logistic system was provided as the deployment grew close, in that supermarkets in Townsville were stripped of personal items, swags and ‘camelback’ water bladders. ‘I knew we were an army that couldn’t sustain itself ’, remarked one cavalry sub-unit commander, ‘I felt I couldn’t rely on the system.’

Difficulties in this regard transcended numbers. 10FSB, for example, was a direct command and supposedly deployable unit of the LSF, yet with no other logistics unit available for the role it was dual-hatted to maintain a range of base support functions in North Queensland. When the unit was warned to deploy this meant that it needed to split itself in half in order to maintain this ‘home’ function. This sub-optimal organisation was never remedied. Nor was an effective use of civil industry networks ever achieved, despite deliberate planning and past exercises. SCA had a regional office in Darwin and access to commercial networks in the Northern Territory that INTERFET planners failed to use. At one point an offer was made by local industry to the Defence Material Organisation (DMO) to hold generator stocks in Darwin until the ADF required them. The offer was declined by NORCOM. A short time later the same generators were desperately sought by 9FSB, but insufficient numbers remained locally and these had to be sourced from afar.

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From a ‘non-operational’ perspective, but nonetheless of fundamental importance, was the lack of specialist consultation and detailed planning for the administrative aspects of the INTERFET deployment. A theatre financial management instruction was not issued by HQAST until a week after INTERFET arrived in East Timor, due primarily to a lack of expertise - especially with respect to UN processes, particularly contracting and local purchase procedures. This was not a harmless omission. Troops deployed unsure of procedures and financial authority. There were no policies for cost-recovery, and no ability within the ADF to actually supply costing data. The result was no one could estimate how much INTERFET would cost, and when attempts were made no agency could come up with the same answer twice. Problems of costings and accounting did nothing to inspire confidence in Australia’s ability to manage a coalition. Moreover, the wider INTERFET ‘Administration Instruction’ was not issued by Headquarters INTERFET until 29 October 1999, more than a month after the operation had been launched. It was only then that the administrative roles and responsibilities of all parties were advised. More worrying still, there was no mortuary affairs policy for the handling of deceased INTERFET personnel at the beginning of the operation. Such arrangements were only established over the period between mid-October and mid-November 1999. Not even an INTERFET postal address could be given in advance for families of soldiers once deployed.

If all of the multi-faceted frictions, problems and difficulties inherent in the INTERFET planning period demonstrated one thing clearly, it was that the ADF was severely out of its frame of experience as personnel bound for Dili crammed aboard ships and planes on 19 September. More precisely, the planning systems and structures within the organisation could not cope with what was asked of them. This was due, in a large measure, to the secrecy expected by government, and enforced strictly within the ADF, concerning any active preparations for operations in East Timor throughout 1999. It was also based on an absence of comprehensive strategic and government-level coordination (including the provision of a clear, desired end state), uncertainty over responsibilities within departments, and a largely untested national security structure. This was predictable, given Australia did not expect to lead and had never before led such a multinational mission of this size. Yet the ADF’s planning problems were as much its own as they were the product of external pressures and decisions. Confused command chains and divergent cultural expectations and practices were Defence’s business. Existing command and control principles and procedures were not adhered to. Unity of command was absent. Ad hoc-ery took its place—so much so that in February 2000 the CDF ordered a review of strategic command doctrine. So, too, responsibility for the serious logistics weaknesses within the ADF in 1999 lay as much with Defence as with successive governments determined to find defence ‘efficiencies’ at every turn throughout the 1990s.

In retrospect, the ADF in 1999 was an organisation firmly conditioned for peace. The Defence organisation and the wider Australian security apparatus had


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not been tested under the stress of a large-scale, real-world problem—with real political involvement and all the associated complications—for decades. Certainly, the planning requirements for INTERFET were well beyond anything ever practised or rehearsed by the ADF in anything other than stage-managed ways; a deployment of such size and complexity was well beyond the scenarios considered even remotely possible at DJFHQ before mid-1999. There is no question that the tireless work and professional commitment of a multitude of individuals pushed the INTERFET ‘plan’ to a point where it could be mounted. Yet, such men and women struggled against a range of structures, processes and cultures, which presented as significant barriers every step of the way. Their achievement was all the more remarkable for this fact.

In light of all I have said, I cannot describe the ADF deployment to East Timor in 1999 as an exercise of ‘force projection’ by any sensible definition of the term. If the tenets of the term are to include characteristics like responsiveness, flexibility, autonomy of action, balance, and an innate ability to escalate level of violence as required - then these were absent. A capacity for anything other than the lightest tempo of combat was wanting, largely due to problematic enablers more than combat units themselves. Those deployed got by - just - in an all but uncontested environment about as close to Australian shores as might be conceived. Since 1999 the enabling function for a larger than brigade-sized expeditionary force mounted and led by the ADF, and reliant upon ADF sustainment, have not been operationally tested. My question to you, then, is how much has really changed in the last 20 years? There is no question that subsequent experiences in the Middle East have provided the ADF with considerable operational experience - but working under someone else’s conceptual, strategic and logistics umbrella is not the same thing. How would INTERFET Mark II go in 2019? What if the Americans were busy somewhere else? How would it go if someone serious was shooting back? Would we be ‘rapid-enough’ for a more testing replay?

In this spirit let me leave you with a quote from the late and great US soldier-scholar Major General I.B. Holley who said: ‘Experience is a wonderful thing...it helps us recognise our mistakes when we repeat them’.

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ADF as a System - Opportunities for Rapid Power Projection

Commander Kate Miller

The ADF has experienced a revolution in capability development with the inception and implementation of the First Principles Review. New mechanisms permit a more coherent evaluation of capability proposals to determine how they fit with current and future forces in an effort to gain relative advantage against other modernising defence forces. Deliberate investments in particular capabilities are prioritised against the relative merits of other investment decisions. For the first time, decision makers are presented with a genuine choice about whether to optimise capabilities for particular tasks, or whether to obtain a better return on investment for the ADF as a whole. Given Australia’s geography, rapid power projection is a necessary ability of the ADF: to fight with sufficient combat power offshore, at the time of our choosing, with the right sustainment to be survivable.

Exploiting opportunities to rapidly project power requires a coherent, integrated approach to

designing the ADF as a whole, because consideration of force protection and sustainment improves ADF

survivability.

There are some disconnects in the current force between service elements, their basing and disposition, repair facilities, geographic challenges, and strategic lift available within the ADF. These disconnects introduce significant risk to the ability to rapidly deploy. Put simply, it is hard for the ADF to rapidly deploy a force with sufficient combat power, because in the current paradigm it takes an extended period to decide what effect is desired, what forces might produce that effect, what support that force would require, and how it could be moved; all preceding the operational execution. Not having a coherent, end-to-end force design process, where dependencies between force elements are accounted for, has impacted the ability to rapidly project, and subsequently protect and sustain the deploying force.

Connecting service elements through a common standard or mechanism in the current force design paradigm is difficult. Commonalities, or interoperable characteristics, often no longer exist as new equipment replaces old. The material


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glue that makes the ADF truly joint has not been specified in the acquisition. Some force elements are too big or heavy, some have insufficient lift capacity, and some elements cannot be transported with others. There is opportunity in the future force to make conscious design choices encompassing all three services’ requirements that could enhance the ADF ability to rapidly deploy and meet operational requirements. Such effects might be a force element, or a missile, or it could be an information operation.

Strategy – connecting ends ways and means

What investment choices could the ADF make about the critical requirements (means) that enable rapid power projection (ways) to better assure mission success (ends)? What is the ADF centre of gravity in this context?

It is the people who conceive the operation; the people who operate the means; the people who devise the way platforms interact. If the people in the ADF ‘think joint’ in their use of the networked, compatible, survivable capabilities available to them, the ADF has a better chance of assuring mission success in a contested, congested environment. It is then possible to remain at a strategic level about what the mission actually is, or even if there are multiple missions that must be achieved concurrently. Easy to say – harder to do.

The ADF is seeking to avoid compromised outcomes at the joint strategic level, so to that end the people must devise a strategy (ends / ways / means) to think about ADF as a whole, within an overall design. Choices made in isolation at the individual platform or service level impact the strategic level, which can result in tactical failure, jeopardising mission success.

In fact, the whole ADF is our System of System of Interest. The ADF seeks to leverage capabilities used in one domain to strengthen advantages in others. Figuring out where these synergies, or emergent behaviours lie, is important because it is investment in those areas that gives the best return across all the major projects – sometimes solving problems that traditional Systems Engineering has not been able to do.

What could the ADF do or buy to obtain a rapid power projection outcome?

I have used this hip pocket guide (see figure below) from the US Army because it shows power projection processes on one page. If the ADF intends to rapidly power project, following the same process, then determining exactly what part of the power projection process has to be rapid is essential. Knowing where to invest and subsequently attain advantage from being able to rapidly project, informs

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ADF as a System

design choices for the ADF as a whole, and clarifies choices at the platform procurement level.

This slide situates the discussion about which specific capabilities to buy or divest through the context of what the ADF as a whole has to achieve, if it is to be optimised for speed.

Adopting streamlined command and control structures might enable faster deployment decision making, which would decrease overall preparation time, and get the right force ‘on task’ sooner. Pre-determining the amounts of food, fuel, water, ammunition and spare parts for an indicative force could permit prepositioned, modular caches in key locations, making supplies deployable by air or sea with little notice. Co-locating air and sea nodes with key transport and mounting infrastructure would permit more streamlined departure processes thereby sequencing the force and its sustainment to be ‘on task’ faster, and able to stay there longer.

Different combinations of forces can expedite deployment, as demonstrated in a RAND study that compared different ratios of CH-47 (Chinook helicopters) to MV22 (Osprey helicopters) to deliver a land force from sea to shore.1 Combining different systems into networks can provide advantages in range and persistence, and improvements in survivability. It is at this point that force structure choices about platforms – light, deployable (within and from Australia) need to be made. Considerations of future estimated deployment distances, the means by which those platforms might deploy and whether there are other options such as forward


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basing, pre-positioning caches or sea basing, that might make a force rapidly deployable must be made with reference to the current force.

We could have a whole discussion about particular platform choices, but what is more important is how the choices add up to be an integrated joint force capable of meshing in with partners, to conduct multi-domain operations against a variety of evolving threats. To achieve relative advantage, there are synergies from combining systems (networking if you like) that add up to more than the sum of the parts. This is what the ADF of the future will need. The hard thing is to predict how those synergies will play out, and how to encourage them by selecting the right combinations.

Considering the ADF as a Whole

What does rapid power projection mean for the ADF as a whole? Australia has a particular challenge due to geography; deploying within Australia to the mounting point is sometimes harder than deploying overseas. Additionally, there are cultural norms, legislative requirements and industry practices that all combine to create a unique set of circumstances about what the ADF can do, and what capabilities it might comprise of.

There is a relationship between the ability to force project, and at the same time, ensure that force remains protected. This doesn’t necessarily mean by the heaviest or hardest armour. It can be through networking sensors to improve battlespace awareness, using the complimentary attributes of a task group, or employing tactics and procedures within a given force. For example, keeping an air, surface and sub-surface piquet at sea, while another ship conducts a resupply. The outcome is that no ship need go alongside for sustainment, so it becomes a hard target.

If forces project faster, then sustainment needs similar speed and protection to keep the force operational. Successfully resupplying deployed forces that are highly protected, over long distances is an increasingly difficult problem. It is solvable, but requires force protection from other supporting units so that those being resupplied can access the food, fuel and ammunition in relative safety. If the forces being projected move rapidly, they are likely to seek greater sustainment in a shorter time frame, which comes with another set of problems. In a combined arms context, you can only work as fast as the slowest element of the taskforce without sacrificing capability.

Combining force elements that have differing levels of readiness is another significant challenge when optimising for rapid deployment. Sometimes forces have a degree of organic support, but will require additional or follow on sustainment via tanker (air or sea) dependent on how far and how long the force is to be projected or deployed. Queueing sustainment to ensure the right stuff

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at the right time is in the right place is an art form. Doing it faster stresses the system, requiring both capacity and responsiveness in the national support base. If force projection becomes rapid, so must force protection, sustainment, and the responsiveness of the national support base to support forces projected.

Defining Opportunities

All of the choices to power project more rapidly are trade-offs and need to be war gamed to fully understand the extent to which changing one aspect impacts the ADF as a whole. If, for arguments’ sake, there was a push to optimise for rapid power projection, trade-offs to get lighter and more mobile will mean satisficing other needs, such as having a concentrated critical mass of force elements. Potentially there may be choices to not exploit other critical requirements (means) that could provide a capability edge, where those synergies (where the sum of the parts is more than the individual parts) are never realised. Within the infinite number of choices and force combinations, it is critical that conscious decisions to make the ADF integrated and interoperable, and perhaps more rapidly deployable, also provide flexible and scalable options for the future.

The paper is getting pretty dry at this point, so to liven it up, I would like to demonstrate how some of the principles I have discussed might be applied to benefit the ADF as a whole. I have devised a list of 10 things I would do if I was VCDF for a day to improve rapid power projection.

Applying the theory - ten things that might make the ADF rapidly deployable

1. The first thing I would do is buy time to think. These are really complex and complicated problems and possibly some don’t have solutions. Einstein said that ‘If I had an hour to solve a problem I’d spend 55 minutes thinking about the problem and 5 minutes thinking about solutions.’

2. I would invest more in the junior people’s joint education, earlier in their careers. These early joint planning experiences shape how our people work together for years to come. Teaching people to ‘think joint’ and think about what systems of systems are will enable them to make choices, identify gaps and opportunities. I would give the really hard problems to the people that have to live with the outcomes. The problems to be solved are not the problems of my generation. Figuring optimal reload location, systems, and processes for guided weapons into the future frigate in a contested environment is something I would give to junior people so that they


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have time to think. I would also set up a junior advisory group to seek a different view on priorities for gaps and opportunities, so they understand and contribute to the design of the force they have to operate.

3. I would be a champion of better mental health. It is hard to be a cohesive, disciplined and effective fighting force when people are struggling with stress, depression, anxiety, trauma, and any number of combinations of those things that impact sound decision making and leadership. The good news is that, with help, people do recover and can do the most amazing things in the right environment.

4. The ADF cannot, in the words of Einstein, ‘simultaneously prevent and prepare for war.’ It took only two years for China to build a military installation on Fiery Cross Reef, opened as a maritime rescue centre announced in Jan 19.2 While it is reported that 16 people and two ships have been rescued over 8 operations, the installation of air defence guns, radars, fuel installations, the airstrip and helipads lends a different spin to the rescue centre. The RAND study War with China: Thinking through the Unthinkable is highly recommended reading.3 While a bit dated now, the study provides an excellent frame for making choices about rapid power projection capabilities, and why.

5. The next thing I would do is take advice and read history again. In the words of The Princess Bride movie ‘You fool! You fell victim to one of the classic blunders – the most famous of which is never get involved in a land war in Asia’. I would be wary of getting involved in a maritime war in Asia too. I concluded that to defeat a land power you must defeat their sea power first, and to do that, you need to have a degree of air dominance. As a logistician I wouldn’t advocate building advance bases from reefs, but clearly someone did. The rate of progress indicates a detailed deliberate plan nested in a broader strategy, broken down by phase. If necessity were to ever call, defeating the unsinkable (but also immobile) aircraft carrier would take an overwhelming rapid power projection that also requires rapid force protection, sustainment effort, and responsiveness from the national support base.

6. Establish force projection hubs. The ADF could make it easy to rapidly project by aligning basing and disposition of the force with departure locations and facilities. Connecting military bases, storage areas, maintenance facilities, mounting bases and staging areas to airbases and sea ports via road, rail, and material handling equipment would significantly improve capacity to support rapid deployment. For example ‘by June 1940, the Works Progress Administration alone has spent $432M in co-operation with civilian and military sponsors on …airports, highways, bridges, rail lines, harbours and Navy Yards.’4 The ADF

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could work with other government and industry partners to find those infrastructure sponsors and plan for rapid power projection.

7. Shift risk from Chief of Joint Operations (operator of current force) to force design and integration (future force) faster. Set assessable timeframes to take lessons from exercises and operations and implement changes within two years, about one posting cycle. I would revive the Rapid Prototyping Development and Evaluation (RPDE) initiative, and recommence the ‘quicklook’ process. These mechanisms permitted rapid assessment of choices, and grew collaboration between Defence and industry. The ideal is to innovate at the tactical level, within a two year period to fix problems in the current force within a posting cycle. The US Navy bought 20,094 Higgins amphibious craft during World War Two, with an initial production run of nine boats in fourteen days, because the designer had a better idea than the Navy’s requirements.5 Defence might need to change the way it buys equipment, even if that means changing the procurement legislation.

8. I would implement a strategy to practice getting the right forces in the right place at the right time with the right capacity, in four main ways:

• Revise and align preparedness settings of platforms and systems that need to deploy together

• Improve availability of current platforms by increasing the sustainment budget, buying more spare parts, and investing in integrated logistic support

• Making decisions to pre-package forces, along with their associated logistic support to keep them deployed

• Change exercise objectives to test sustainment, particularly connections between initial force deployment and sending in the ‘follow on force.’

9. I would prioritise purchase of any capability that improves battlespace awareness, communications between platforms and logistics support for the ADF. There are some good opportunities to combine sensors with more strategic lift. Helicopters are especially versatile and effective in the Indo-Pacific. In the event that capabilities are unaffordable, agreements to borrow capabilities from other nations may be a solution. Partners and allies all have items on their wish list like dedicated aeromedical evacuation aircraft, submarine rescue equipment, and joint personnel recovery capabilities. Challenging the idea that everything in the order of battle must be a sovereign capability could open up options not previously considered.


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10. Finally, I would to take the opportunity to divest. Marie Kondo, the tidying expert advises that when it comes to toys, often there is an emotional attachment and all toys spark joy. The solution is to only put out the ones that are used often. There are some parallels with the ADF order of battle – if we can’t let it go, and it doesn’t fit into the operational concepts, then it is time to mothball and keep in reserve. Alternatively, if everything ‘sparks joy’, discipline and restraint in selecting what we need to buy is necessary. If I was VCDF, I would definitely sell or rehome the force elements that do not in combination with others achieve the synergies that give a relative advantage. I would apply this approach to the ADF as a whole to see whether future purchases do provide relative advantage.

That ladies and gentlemen, was a brief overview of systems of systems engineering as applied to achieving rapid power projection in the ADF.

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Endnotes

1 Button, Robert Warren, John Gordon IV, Jessie Riposo, Irv Blickstein, and Peter A. Wilson, Warfighting and Logistic Support of Joint Forces from the Joint Sea Base. Santa Monica, CA: RAND Corporation, 2007. https://www.rand.org/pubs/monographs/MG649.html.

2 https://www.maritime-executive.com/article/china-establishes-south-china-sea-res-cue-center

3 Gompert, David C., Astrid Stuth Cevallos, and Cristina L. Garafola, War with China: Thinking Through the Unthinkable. Santa Monica, CA: RAND Corporation, 2016. https://www.rand.org/pubs/research_reports/RR1140.html. Also available in print form.

4 Gropman, Alan (ed), The Big ‘L’ American Logistics in World War II. Washington, DC: National Defense University Press, 1997. p. 201

5 Gropman, Alan(ed), The Big ‘L’ American Logistics in World War II, p. 110


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Seizing the Social Media High Ground: A framework for Digital Engagement

to Enable Force Projection Operations

Lieutenant Colonel Mick Cook

Introduction

Dominating the digital environment will support the achievement of mission objectives during force projection operations. The digital environment is made up of digital habitats that rely on the passage of information through digital engagement. This engagement influences the perspectives of people; people who live in, and affect, an operational environment. It is, therefore, vital for military strategists to understand that force projection operations need to include digital habitats as key terrain. This key digital terrain can be seized, held, and defended through the building and exploitation of social capital using digital engagement processes during force projection operations. This chapter will first define digital habitats and outline a simplified digital engagement process, before demonstrating how digital engagement can be, and has been, used to build social capital. The next section of this chapter will provide examples of how digital engagement has been used to build and exploit social capital for force projection operations. This chapter will conclude by outlining a framework for digital engagement that will build and exploit social capital in support of force projection operations.

Defining digital habitats.

A digital habitat is a community in which its inhabitants connect with each other and information through digital communication technology. Many of these connections allow the inhabitants to interact with information and individuals that would be inaccessible without the use of digital technology. The interaction between individuals within digital habitats through multiple pieces of digital technology, or digital platforms, makes these habitats complex. Figure 1 shows the interaction of 1318 users on 725 different Facebook pages; this is a good example


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of the complexity of the digital environment1. Each circle, or node, highlights an individual Facebook page. The size of the node corresponds with its number of interactions compared to the other nodes within the network. The lines between nodes are the connections made by users who are interacting with the pages. Each line, therefore, represents a user common to the nodes it connects. This data was derived through an analysis of Facebook users who were using the social media platform to view professional military education content. It is a small sample that highlights the connectivity and complexity of a digital habitat.

Figure 1: A digital habitat comprising of a network of Facebook pages and users connected by a common interest in Professional Military Education.

Communication technology designed to share content creates the connectivity, and increases the complexity, of digital habitats. The example given above demonstrates the use of digital communication technology, a social media platform, to explore and interact with content. The content-driven, communication-based nature of a digital habitat is formed through the interaction of multiple components. These components include the collective groups of individuals interacting with the digital environment, known as the audience or target audiences. Non-human components include the digital platforms, such as social media platforms, messaging services, and digital devices used to access the

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Seizing the Social Media High Ground

environment. The interaction of the components forms the digital habitats2. These digital habitats are often concurrent with physical habitats made up of culturally and linguistically compatible individuals and groups. The concurrence of a digital habitat with a physical area of operations provides the military commander with an opportunity to support the achievement of their operational objectives through digital engagement.

A simplified digital engagement process.

A force that engages with a target audience through a digital platform is conducting digital engagement. Digital engagement enables a projecting force to communicate with their target audiences within their areas of operation and interest. Figure 2 outlines a simplified digital engagement process. The simplified digital engagement process focuses on the core principles of any communication or engagement process.

Figure 2: A simplified digital engagement process.

The projecting force must understand the messages they will deliver to the target audiences. This understanding needs to be underpinned by the overall mission, commander’s intent, and planned objectives. Planned messages must be


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underpinned by the objectives of projecting force. Developing an understanding of the preferred messages during the mission analysis and planning stages is essential. A rapid force projection may occur before the release of strategic communications guidance from the higher headquarters; therefore, an ability to understand what messages are appropriate at the operational level for the projecting force is crucial. Once a projecting force understands the message it wants to deliver, it needs to understand to whom it wants to deliver the message.

Experienced targeting staff have an understanding of the effects their weapon systems will have against an intended target. This understanding is based on knowledge about both the weapon system and the target type. Digital engagement with target audiences is no different. An experienced strategic communicator will know how a message is likely to be received based on their understanding of both the message and, critically, the audience receiving it. This understanding is gained through target audience analysis. Analysing the inhabitants of a digital habitat within a projecting force’s area of operations is an essential step in the digital engagement process. This analysis will ensure the strategic communicators within a projecting force will better understand how to frame the message they are to deliver, and by what means they should deliver it, to achieve the commander’s intent. The means, in the case of digital engagement, refers to a relevant digital platform.

Each target audience within a digital habitat will have a preferred digital platform that they use to interact with different types of information in the digital environment. The projecting force needs to engage with its target audiences on digital platforms that best support message transmission, reach, understanding, and impact. Often, this means a compromise is required when selecting a digital platform. Understanding the differences between platforms is important, and it is vital that the projecting force does not assume that all platforms are similar. A common misconception is that social media platforms, such as Facebook and Twitter, are similar to each other and, therefore, the same content can be posted on both platforms with little-to-no platform-specific tailoring; this comparison is similar to saying a tabloid newspaper is the same a broadsheet newspaper. However, the reality is that digital inhabitants interact with Facebook and Twitter in very different ways, and therefore a better example from traditional media is that one is a tabloid newspaper, while the other is a television program. Table 1 lists popular social media platforms in countries within the South East Asian and Pacific regions, as well as the typical interactions on these platforms. This table highlights that the digital habitats that make up the global digital environment are diverse in the same way that different countries and ethnicities are diverse. A projecting force must understand the diversity of platform choice and interaction within the digital habitats in which they seek to engage. The choice of a platform, therefore, needs to be based not just on the understanding of the message and the audience, but an understanding of how the target audience will interact with the message in the digital environment. This understanding should also inform the

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tailoring of content to ensure that the digital inhabitants interact with the message on the appropriate platform in a way that will achieve the projecting force’s strategic communication objectives.

Platform Country Interaction Type

Facebook (including Messenger)

Australia, New Zealand, Papua New Guinea, Indonesia, Fiji, Philippines, Malaysia

Used for maintaining relationships between individuals who have a connection in the physical environment, i.e. family and friends Individuals share and interact with audio-visual content that includes media reporting, entertainment media, retail brands, sports organisations and local community activities.

Twitter Australia, New Zealand, Papua New Guinea, Indonesia, Philippines, Malaysia

Used for interacting with individuals and organisations that may be, but predominantly are not, connected with the individual in the physical environment, ie strangers, like-minded professionals, celebrities.Users share and interact with audio-visual content that includes professional development content, academic material, media reporting, entertainment media, retail brands, sports organisations and local community activities.

Rappler Indonesi3a, Philippines

Individuals interact with content from journalists, citizen journalists, and media corporations.

WhatsApp Australia, New Zealand Indonesia, Philippines, Malaysia

Used for communicating with individuals or groups privately. Point to point communication between individuals is encrypted, whereas point to group communication (individuals to a collective of individuals in a group chat) is not.

Instagram Australia, New Zealand, Papua New Guinea, Indonesia, Fiji, Philippines, Malaysia

Used to interact with primarily visual content from other users or corporations. The majority of the content focuses on the lifestyles of individuals.

Snapchat Australia, New Zealand, Indonesia, Philippines, Malaysia

Used by individuals to send image or video based messages to individuals or groups. The majority of the content focuses on life events and interactions within the physical world.

Table 1: Social media platform use by some nations within the South East Asia-Pacific region4


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Content must be suitable to convey the message in a manner that is suitable for the audience, appropriate for the platform, and achieves the aims of the message. The development of suitable content will ensure that the digital engagement process does not fail before interaction with the target audience has become beneficial. Elements of suitable content include cultural and linguistic features of target audiences, appropriate audio-visual material, and desired interactions. The importance of providing the message in the audience’s target language is critical to message understanding and impact. There have been several examples of where digital engagement has been unsuccessful based on a failure to adequately engage with a target audience in a culturally and linguistically sophisticated manner. Once such example is the Australian Defence Force’s Fight Daesh Twitter- based messaging campaign. The faults in the direct translations sourced from Google Translate are an excellent example of a simple digital engagement process that failed to account for the cultural and linguistic nuances of the target audience5. The failure to understand that a direct translation between English and Arabic would not contain the nuances of metaphor that are prevalent in the target language undermined the message with the target audience. This example highlights the risks of conducting digital engagement without understanding the target audience during content development. The projecting force needs to develop appropriate content that conveys the message, is suitable for the platform being used, and is likely to drive engagement by the target audience.

The final step in content development relates to designed interactions. Designed interactions refer to the expected response by the target audience upon receiving the message in the digital environment. By incorporating the desired interactions into the design and development of content, the strategic communicators of a projected force will be able to quickly assess the success of a message once it is transmitted to the target audience. For example, desired interactions for content being delivered to an Australian audience on Facebook could focus on generating ‘likes’ (displays of positive sentiment) or comments (identifiable written posts about the content).

The delivery of content within the digital environment should maximise message impact and audience interaction. Many digital platforms provide users with data about the most advantageous types of content and times for posting. This data is commonly referred to as analytics. By understanding the analytics of a proposed platform, a strategic communicator can deliver the content to a target audience at a time that maximises the impact of the message and creates further opportunities for digital engagement between the force and the target audience. The delivery of a message during digital engagement can be likened to many other operations on the battlefield, where timing is as important as understanding the terrain, enemy, and weapon systems. Delivering a message at the optimal time with content that resonates with the target audience increases the likelihood of success in generating interactions that lead to positive digital engagement;

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however, it is worth noting that message delivery based on an understanding of the platform does not exclude unexpected interactions from occurring.

In May 2016 the author posted a video on the Australian Army Facebook page that generated a significant amount of unexpected interactions6. The content was a short video clip, approximately a minute long, of the trial of a prototype piece of equipment in use at a firing range7. The content was posted on Facebook at a time when the majority of the demographic viewing the Australian Army Facebook page were high school students. The desired interaction for this content was ‘likes’ and comments on innovation within the Australian Army. The reaction from the target audience was limited; however, other audiences viewing the video made significant interactions with the content. The majority of the reactions were displays of negative sentiment about the prototype equipment, highlighting the perceived impracticality of it. Figure 3 is a snapshot of the video post and shows the number of interactions with the content, such as comments, views and sentiment indicators. While interactions by audiences other than the target audience were expected, the volume of these interactions and the overwhelmingly negative sentiment concerning the prototype equipment was not. Further analysis of the interactions highlighted to the project team sponsoring the equipment that there were a significant portion of the Australian Army Facebook page’s audience that was interested in innovation within the Australian Army. By understanding the interactions of this audience group, future content could be tailored to generate further discussion for innovative practices and equipment design. This example does not relate specifically to rapid force projection operations, but does highlight the impact tailored content can have upon audiences in the digital environment. It also demonstrates that a simple broadcast mentality in the digital environment will not be sufficient to meet the expectations of the audience and understand the impact of a force’s messaging.


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Figure 3: A snapshot of the Advanced Accuracy Solutions Reaper weapon system trial video through the Facebook for Mobile application. This video resulted in a large unexpected interactions that were negative in sentiment

but achieved the engagement objectives.

The final step in the simplified digital engagement process focuses on engaging with the target audience within the digital environment. This step requires an understanding of the impact of the first five steps before beginning the process again. This step in the process can be used to exploit the target audience for intelligence, provide specific information on compliance with the projected force’s direction, or conduct shaping operations before physical operations commence. Often, the final part of engaging with the target audience is seen as a fait accompli, and the process is repeated without understanding the gains or losses that have occurred within the engagement process. This is due to the legacy of broadcast systems for engagement with target audiences in the information domain. The point of difference in digital environments is that target audiences not only receive the information being broadcast to them, but they also interact with it, often broadcasting it within digital habitats. A broadcast mentality in the digital environment fails to capitalise on the benefits of the socially interactive nature of digital habitats and their inhabitants.

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Building and exploiting social capital.

A projecting force can build social capital with target audiences during force projection operations into an area of operations through digital engagement. Social Capital is a group of entities with commonalities consisting of social structures that facilitate the actions of actors8. This includes individuals or groups of individuals within created structures. Social Capital can be divided into two components; Civic Engagement and Social Contact. Both of these components can be related to the digital environment, where the use of digital platforms by individuals within a digital habitat is done to participate in Civic Engagement or maintaining Social Contact. Civic Engagement in a digital environment relates specifically to the use of digital platforms to become involved within a community, either actively or passively. Examples of Civic Engagement in the digital environment include using social media to coordinate community events such as sports games, political protests, and hacktivism (using digital tools for activism motivated actions). Social Contact is more straightforward and refers to the use of digital platforms to maintain social connections between individuals. Understanding how Social Capital is generated in the digital environment is key to understanding how digital engagement can aid the projecting force.

The Islamic State was able to use digital engagement to build Social Capital, which enables force projection operations that captured both terrain and populations. The projection into, and through, the digital environment by the Islamic State was documented by Charlie Winter in his report, Documenting the Virtual Caliphate9. Winter focuses on the public, propaganda-based efforts of the Islamic State to generate effects on the battlefield and recruit foreign fighters. Their successes include the capture of Mosul enabled by a large scale digital propaganda effort that led many from the Iraqi Army to abandon their defensive positions prior to Islamic State forces’ assault on the city10. This target propaganda campaign used an understanding of how the digital habitat could be manipulated to build Social Capital that could be exploited during force projection operations. The Islamic State used digital engagement as a primary method of enabling the physical force projection of combat forces during offensive operations. However, when used to generate and exploit Social Capital, digital engagement can be used for more than generating enabling effects on the battlefield, it can be the main effort in a force projection operation.

The Islamic State was able to exploit the Social Capital generated through digital engagement and project force into the digital habitats of Europe, North America, and Australia. This force projection through digital engagement was more than mere messaging; it was an invasion of the digital habitats that were inhabited by individuals that were, in the majority, from a culturally antithetical background to the Islamic State and its ideals. The narrative, or message, that underpinned the digital engagement of the Islamic State focused on ideals based


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on community and belonging that could be broadly appealing to disenfranchised individuals, whether they were of Arabic heritage with Salafist ideals or from a middle-class Belgian family that attended church every Sunday11. The content that supported the narrative of the Islamic State was appropriate for the audience; this included messaging the audience of the soccer world cup on Twitter, long-form videos on YouTube, and private communication with potential recruits on messaging platforms such as Skype12. French Journalist Anna Erelle’s harrowing account of her ‘recruitment’ during her investigation into the recruitment of European women by the Islamic State highlights the influence that can be generated over individuals through the establishment of Social Contact in the digital environment. Specifically, this is successful when it is exploited to generate a Civic Engagement effect; in Erelle’s case, it was to convince her to move to Syria and marry an Islamic Fighter. The psychological effect of the digital engagement on Erelle, who was an undercover journalist during the experience, highlights the potential of using digital engagement for force projection when used to generate Social Capital and exploit it. Figure 4 demonstrates the building of Social Capital through its two components in a digital engagement process. The examples of the battle of Mosul and the targeting of foreign recruits highlights the potential utility of digital engagement for the military commander when used to generate and exploit Social Capital.

Figure 4: Components of Social Capital in relation to a simplified digital engagement process.

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A framework for building and exploiting Social Capital

A military commander can use digital engagement to build and exploit Social Capital during force projection operations to achieve their objectives. The simplified digital engagement process discussed throughout this chapter needs to be adapted to account for the building and exploitation of Social Capital. Figure 5 articulates the adapted process. The additional steps of building Social Capital and exploiting during force projection ensure that the military commander can benefit from digital engagement and achieve their operational objectives. The building of Social Capital has been explained previously in this chapter; however, the exploitation of it has not. The examples provided by the Islamic State highlight the types of successes that can be achieved by exploiting Social Capital through a digital engagement process. The exploitation of the components of Social Capital will depend on the objectives of the military commander. Some operations, such as offensive force projection operations, may focus on establishing Social Contact with individuals to provide intelligence, support special forces operations, or influence adversary decision making processes.

Conversely, a commander may chose to focus on encouraging Civic Engagement through a digital engagement process during Humanitarian Assistance and Disaster Relief operations. Most operations, particularly force projection operations, would benefit from developing and exploiting both components of Social Capital through digital engagement; an analysis of the process against desired outcomes, or operational objectives would determine which areas of Social Capital should be further developed or exploited throughout the phases of an operation. This assessment is the final step in the adapted process for enabling force projection operations through digital engagement.


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Figure 5: A framework for building and exploiting social capital through digital engagement to support of force projection operations

Conclusion

A military commander is unlikely to force project into an area of operations that does not have corresponding digital habitats. Social capital, consisting of Social Contact and Civic Engagement, can be built and exploited amongst the inhabitants of these digital habitats. An understanding of how to build and exploit Social Capital through engagement with the digital environment will assist the commander during force projection operations. Examples of forces exploiting Social Capital through digital engagement demonstrate its utility as a main or supporting effort, enabling battlefield successes. It is also clear from these examples that the digital environment is key terrain, and seizing this high ground within this environment is crucial for success in force projection operations.

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Endnotes

1 The data collected to map this network was collected on 8 February 2018. The appli-cation to collect the data was Netvizz (https://tools.digitalmethods.net/netvizz/face-book/netvizz/) and the application Gephi (https://gephi.org/) was used to analyse the data and create the graphical representation. The colouring of the nodes and connec-tions is used to highlight the network density. The data was collected within the terms and conditions of the social media platform being analysed and no personal informa-tion of users was collected or analysed.

2 Wenger, E et al, (2009) Digital Habitats, CPSquare : Portland, pg 6 .3 Rappler Website last accessed 1 July 2019 - https://www.rappler.com/about-rappler/

about-us/385-about-rappler4 Hootsuite, Digital 2019, dated January 2019, last accessed 1 July 2019 - https://

wearesocial.com/au/blog/2019/02/digital-report-australia5 Murphy, J ‘All your ISIS are belong to us: we’re fighting terrorism with bad Google

translations’ Crikey, dated 23 September 2015, last accessed 1 July 2019 https://www.crikey.com.au/2015/09/23/all-your-isis-are-belong-to-us-were-fighting-terrorism-with-bad-google-translations/?wpmp_switcher=desktop

6 In 2016 the author of this chapter was the Australian army’s Social Media and Online Engagement manager.

7 Australian Army, ‘Advanced Accuracy Solutions Reaper weapon system trial video’ Facebook, dated 5 May 2016, last accessed 1 July 2019 - https://www.facebook.com/AustralianArmy/videos/10153924852496195?s=639116320&sfns=mo

8 Quan-Haase, A and Wellman, B (2004) ‘How does the internet affect social capital?’ in Social Capital and Information Technology, ed Huysman, M and Wulf, V, The MIT Press: Cambridge, Massachusetts .

9 Winter, C (2015), Documenting the Virtual Caliphate, Quillam Foundation .10 Singer, PW and Emerson, TB (2018) Likewar, Hought Mifflin Harcourt: New York pp

4-11.11 Singer, PW and Emerson, TB (2018) Likewar, Hought Mifflin Harcourt: New York pg

170; Winter, C (2015), Documenting the Virtual Caliphate, Quillam Foundation pg 19.12 Stern, J and Berger, JM , (2015) ISIS: The State of Terror, Ecco: pg 147, 164; Erelle, A

(2015) In the skin of a Jihadist, Harper Collins: Great Britain.


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An Air Power View of Rapid Force Projection

Professor Sanu Kainikara

Introduction

The concept of Rapid Force Projection (RFP) could be very different in the perspective of the separate domain-centric force projection capabilities. In this context, an air power, and therefore an air force, view of RFP would perhaps be radically different to the perceptions of either the navy or the army. This distinction has to be kept in mind while considering the points being put forward in this short paper.

Another caveat for understanding an air power view of RFP is that, in this paper, air power has been considered as a holistic power projection capability without making a distinction for air forces that do not possess the complete suite of air power capabilities. In fact, a large number of air forces around the world do not have all air power capabilities vested in them. Further, a nation’s air force will always function within a set of constraints that will impinge on all aspects of the development of the force. National security imperatives take precedence in creating the force structure and the development of extant capabilities. Since air power capabilities need long lead times to develop, mature and introduce into service, the overall stature and competence of an air force is almost hostage to the national capability development cycle and availability of resources at the strategic politico-military level of control. From an air power point of view, RFP capabilities would have to be developed within these constraints.

This short paper endeavours to provide a succinct, but holistic air power view of the concept of RFP. There are two aspects to realising RFP capabilities, which must be examined separately although they are interlinked and mutually influence each other—political aspects and military realities.


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Political Aspects

There are a number of political factors that impinge on the development and sustainment of RFP capabilities. Some of these factors are common to all RFP capabilities and not unique to a particular domain. There are two major political factors that would influence all RFP capabilities irrespective of the operating domain.

The first stems from the one of the fundamental principles of war—the selection and maintenance of aim. There needs to be absolute and articulated political clarity regarding the basic objective to be achieved through the proposed force projection endeavour. This necessity becomes even more important and critical when the demand is for ‘rapid’ force projection, which would entail decisions made with minimal time available for detailed calculations and considerations of possible repercussions. Under all circumstances the balance between ends, ways and means must be maintained. The second political factor is the need to have an unequivocal positive answer to one fundamental question that must be aske before embarking of RFP. The question is, ‘Does the RFP directly contribute to or improve the status of national security?’ If the answer to this essential question is ‘No’, for whatever reason, then the RFP initiative needs to be reassessed.

There are other political factors that are unique to RFP through the employment of air power, which also need to be considered. These also have their genesis in more recent geo-political developments across the world. The first political factor that is unique to air power stems from the fact that, in modern times, the more stable and mature democracies feel a political obligation to respond in order to stabilise the regions that are volatile. This prompting need to ‘do something’ could be driven for a number of reasons, including altruistic thinking aimed at bettering the status of the less developed areas of the world. The reasons to respond to emerging crises and security challenges that erupt across the world may also be the fear of the instability spanning across regions that would affect the peace and prosperity of the more tranquil regions in an interconnected world, as well as the threat of displaced diaspora. In such a scenario, two fundamental attributes of air power make it the ‘first-choice’ capability to be used for intervention.

The first is air power’s inherent ability to rapidly project force, relatively much faster than military forces functioning in the other two domains. In politically charged modern times, there is the additional advantage of being able to project force without creating a long and vulnerable logistics ‘tail’ or an intrusive foot-print in the host country. A heavy and lengthy foot-print during an intervention invariably becomes a liability over time and is an undesirable trend in combating insurgent and irregular forces. The second is air power’s ability to be flexible in its reaction, even when the need is for rapid response. This integral characteristic

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of air power in turn increases the options available to the government, providing a multiplicity of alternatives to choose from, even in the face of immediate challenge. From a political perspective, these two primary attributes of air power make it an attractive choice, at least for the start of an intervention. The international political trend is to shy away from ‘boots-on-the-ground’ intervention with its accompanying probability of own casualties, the possibility of souring public opinion and the risk of mission creep by becoming embroiled in the domestic affairs of a country.

The second political factor unique to air in the RFP mode is the availability of forward basing facilities. The acceptance of foreign combat assets to be based in a country is purely political and would depend on a number of domestic factors. In terms of air power it is relatively easier to get permission to base non-combat assets such as transport aircraft at a foreign base. This constraint will have direct repercussions on the ability of a nation to intervene in any meaningful manner in a rapidly escalating challenge or deteriorating security scenario. The politico-strategic influence of the intervening nation and the prevailing domestic political situation of the host nation will combine to either permit or prohibit the basing of combat assets within operational range of the trouble spot or region.

Military Aspects of RFP – The Air Power Factor

From a military perspective, RFP could either be in a benign condition or for the lethal application of force.

Benign Force ProjectionRPF in a benign manner would normally take place in providing humanitarian

aid and disaster relief (HADR). The political aspects of a nation’s capability to provide aid is extraneous to the discussion in this paper and therefore is not being discussed. However, the requirement to provide HADR is more likely to arise without much notice and would require a rapid response. Therefore the provision of immediate HADR in response to a catastrophe would be almost completely reliant on air power capabilities. In turn, such a rapid response would create soft-power influence in the host nation that could be leveraged to create better relationships and even alliances. Since the provision of HADR is a benign activity, although it is also in the sphere of RFP, it is relatively easier to overcome political reluctance from the host country as well as the region that is affected.

Even though the provision of HADR would normally be welcomed by the recipient nation, it still needs political clarity of purpose for the providing nation in terms of the amount to be provided and laying down the norms that are acceptable to the nations involved. Further, it requires clear rules of engagement in terms of delineating the responsibilities of each participant; the command and


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control arrangements of the deployed assets and the accepted responsibilities of the coordinating agency. Since HADR activities are more likely to be undertaken by a very loosely created coalition, united by purpose, the role of the coordination agency should be assumed by the nation providing the maximum assets to ensure that command and control activities are streamlined. It must also be noted that HADR activities may also be undertaken by non-military non-government agencies, which may not be conversant with common military command and control protocols, making it necessary for the coordinating agency to be a combination of civil-military aviation agencies.

RFP – The Application of ForceAir power has inherent strategic global reach and power projection capabilities,

based on its core characteristics. In most cases RFP would be the indication of a nation’s intent to herald a larger military intervention, if the situation cannot be contained by RFP alone. In the cycle of strategies RFP would start with the strategy of deterrence and then move onto coercion and intimidation through punitive actions. The application of any of the strategies would have to take into account the prevailing and changing political circumstances.

The fundamental requirement to conduct RFP is to establish an adequate level of control of the air. This is all the more important in situations where RFP may have to be conducted in contested airspace at least in the start of the campaign. The ‘adequacy’ of control of the air would depend on the potency of the expected air opposition.

Control of the AirSince control of the air is the first prerequisite for the success of any RFP, it

needs to be analysed in some detail. There are two prevalent misunderstandings within the Western military forces regarding control of the air. The first is that air power theorists and strategists harp on the importance of control of the air as a prerequisite for success in military operations only to ensure increased importance of air forces in the broader planning sequence of a joint or combined military campaign. The second is the belief, outside of professional air power discussion circles, that control of the air would always be available for Western military operations whenever they are employed. In other words, the belief that it will be delivered on request.

In an Australian perspective this belief of invulnerability could have roots in historical precedents. The last Australian soldier killed by enemy air action was on 25 October 1943, in Papua New Guinea by a Japanese attack aircraft; the last Royal Australian Naval ship to be attacked by enemy air was on 9 January 1945, when HMAS Australia was attacked off the Philippines by Japanese Kamikaze aircraft; and the last Royal Australian Air Force aircraft shot down in air-to-air

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combat was on 1 December 1951, when three Meteor fighter jets were lost to MiG-15s over Korea.

Two facts are indisputable. One, the threat of air attacks has not receded over the years; two, when the adversary is a near-peer power, control of the air will be contested and would have to be fought over to gain and maintain. These paradigms, rather than the belief that control of the air can be taken for granted, is the lesson to be derived from the historical precedents. The corollary to the situation where a dedicated campaign to obtain, and thereafter maintain, control of the air has to be mounted is that the air power resource requirements to meet all the tasks will increase dramatically. Under these circumstances RPF can only be carried out after control of the air has been assured, which might mean that the force projection may not be as ‘rapid’ as required.

Another aspect of control of the air relates to the current trend of the proliferation of air defence capabilities. In recent times air denial capabilities have become more effective and relatively cheaper, making them accessible to irregular or insurgent groups. The employment of air denial assets makes vital areas and centres of gravity out of reach of offensive strike capabilities. The ability of a military force to carryout RPF would depend on its ability to neutralise air denial systems. Control of the air therefore becomes a prerequisite for any kind of force projection activity.

After establishing effective control of the air, the other core roles of air power—air mobility, strike and intelligence, surveillance and reconnaissance (ISR)—can be utilised to play important parts in the effectiveness of RFP. For purposes of brevity, the description/discussion of these three core roles will be brief.

Air MobilityEffective RFP capabilities require the force to have full spectrum air mobility

capabilities. Air mobility needs to be employed within the classic concept of ‘hub and spoke’ airlift capabilities to ensure that it can access even remote parts of the area of operations. In this context, the inherent flexibility of rotary wing capabilities are particularly important. There is no doubt that air power has global reach; however, it can only be optimally leveraged if appropriate concepts of operations are employed. The insertion, sustainment and extraction of Special Force elements are not being covered as the topic is the subject of another presentation. However, air mobility platforms remain vulnerable in contested airspace.

StrikeIn the process of enacting RFP, circumstances might arise when punitive

actions need to be initiated. These could be delivered in the guise of air strikes, since they have the inherent characteristics of precision, proportionality and discrimination. Air strikes also have the distinct advantage of pursuing any of


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the strategies that are selected—starting from deterrence and moving forward to coercion and, if necessary, destruction. A single capability delivering the entire gamut of strategies will obviously be highly prized. Air strikes can also be used to adopt gradual escalation, if it becomes necessary. Additionally, air strikes can completely avoid the necessity to have a foot-print on the ground in adversary territories, which in recent years have become politically unacceptable in most cases. Further, by adopting air strikes as the choice there are lesser chances of own casualties being inflicted in the course of the conflict.

Since the need in RFP is for immediate action, the clear distinction between strategic and tactical strikes become blurred in most cases. Air strikes, therefore, could be sub-divided in the context of RFP, as those that are done for independent targeting, as opposed to strikes that provide support to surface forces in contact with the adversary. However, if surface forces are not being employed in the RFP endeavour, then air strikes could be of a generic nature, and classified according to the effects that are to be achieved.

ISRISR is critical to the success of RFP as a common and detailed situational

awareness is key to its success. Adequate ISR capabilities, resident within the force, are indispensable and must be assured before RFP campaigns are undertaken.

Conclusion

A nation might decide to project force rapidly in the pursuit of its national interests. In such circumstances, air power is the first-choice capability that governments rely on to carry out the necessary actions because of its inherent characteristics of flexibility, rapid response and the ability to escalate and de-escalate the engagement at will. However, in RFP cases, air power is not geared for extended involvement and therefore must be employed with caution and a clear follow-on plan for containment in the long-term. On the other hand, air power is critical for the success of any RFP operation. The success of air power will depend on the veracity of the concept of operations employed, the assets used and the objectives to be achieved—in other words ensuring that the ways and means are matched correctly to achieve the desired end-state.

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Special Forces and Rapid Force Projection

Lieutenant Colonel Joel Packer

The role for Australian Special Forces (SF) in responding rapidly to an “event” within the region – to project force – appears to be a very simple topic. And while not trying to turn the apparent and accepted into a complex art, the topic does bear continuing discussion once you reflect on the current and future capabilities of the Australian Defence Force.

In this paper I am going to touch on the rapid response timelines and capabilities required of an enabled Joint Special Operations Task Force to deliver rapid force projection capabilities. However, I am also going to stress some of the considerations which must be made in order to foster early engagement to allow “warm starts”, and pre-conditions which enable the rapid response and force projection of SF and ADF, in this reactionary context.

I will also argue that an SF value statement is necessary in this context, and assert an underlying operational theory which supports future rapid force projection operational design, and lastly, then close with the question – who comes next?

The SF Value Statement.

The Australian Army, and indeed the entire Australian Defence Force, cannot continue to resource the Fundamental Inputs to Capability (FIC) which generate and sustain operational capabilities that are the “same-same, but different”. In other words, planning filters such as Feasible, Acceptable, Suitable and Distinguishable should be applied to determine what value SF can offer that the rest of the ADF does not. This paper will argue that the answer to that question is:

As the Army modernises under “Accelerated Warfare”, becoming more Connected, Protected, Enabled and Lethal, Australia’s Competitors and Adversaries will study this and raise their own capabilities. Some will match ours, and then there are those that do not seek match ours by design. Call it asymmetric or unconventional operations, this is the emerging threat for the future. And it remains SOCOMD’s mission to provide the ADF with capabilities that offset the main force’s strengths, countering asymmetry while providing own niche and asymmetric capabilities to Government and the ADF.


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A Theory for Special Operations

In 1993, as his postgraduate thesis at the US Naval Post Graduate School, then COMD William H. McRaven wrote The Theory of Special Operations. Published in later years, it became mandatory reading for generations of SF officers and soldiers as a critical exemplar of how special operations succeed. How they defy the conventional wisdom of a numerically inferior aggressor attacking a fortified enemy in defence – and winning. His theory, known as “Relative Superiority”, describes the condition which exists when a smaller force gains a brief temporal decisive advantage over a larger or well defended enemy, seen in Fig 1 below. Importantly, this resonated with Coalition SF around the world during the years of Decisive Action and Counter Terrorism raids in Afghanistan and other countries. Indeed, the theory itself in application appears tailor made for the short period of time that an SF unit conducting a raid would have the initiative, before the enemy is able to muster sufficient armed forces to either overrun an SF unit, or threaten their extraction. In short, the enemy regaining the initiative is detrimental to friendly force missions.

Fig 1. William H. McRaven, The Theory of Special Operations, Naval Postgraduate School, Monterey CA, 1993 p. 16 & p. 10 (Slide presented

at the Rapid force Projection Conference 2019)

Since returning from operations in Afghanistan, Australian Special Operations Command (SOCOMD) has re-emphasised the importance and growth of two other SF mission sets; Special Reconnaissance (SR) and Special Warfare (SW). SR operations include environmental, offensive and close target reconnaissance, and battle damage assessment (BDA); and SW operations undertaken by, with

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and through indigenous (Host Nation) forces to support WoG efforts to stabilise a friendly nation or coerce a hostile force as primary mission objectives. This has led some people to assume that SF need a new theory; however, I would argue that that theory of Relative Superiority can still be applied across all SF mission sets, despite its almost exclusive past application to raids and Decisive Action.

For a raid, a friendly force’s Centre of Gravity may have been its “ability to achieve surprise and extract before the enemy can respond”. However, during Special Reconnaissance missions the SF achieves relative superiority by remaining below the detection threshold for the duration. Similarly, Special Warfare missions could define their relative superiority as the access and influence they have with Host Nations in the face of Competition for an extended period of time. The requirement to lengthen and extend periods of relative superiority in SF operations warrants further discussion.

In 1995, another postgraduate student at the US Naval postgraduate School by the name of LEUT James O. Johnson expanded on Relative Superiority with his thesis entitled Beyond Surprise: A cybernetic approach to Special Operations. In it, he noted that an SF unit, or indeed any force, may not always have the benefit of surprise, as outlined by William McRaven as articulated in his six principles, Simplicity, Security, Repetition, Surprise, Speed and Purpose (See Fig 1.McRaven, Theory of Special Operations p.16).

If this is the case, then how does the force achieve and maintain Relative Superiority over a much greater period of time? The answer to this is not new as it lies in operational strategy, planning and sequencing. Johnson identified that Relative Superiority could be regained, and maintained over a much longer period of time through a series of sequential actions or even stand-alone operations targeting “Critical Nodes of Vulnerability” (Fig 2). In the context of a raid, these actions are going to be based on the assimilation, decision and communications cycle of the commanders – how they out-think and out-manoeuvre their adversary. For longer duration missions, in the plainest language, this model talks to phasing, sequencing and synchronisation to achieve maximum value.


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Fig 2. James O. Johnson, Beyond surprise: a cybernetic approach to special operations Naval Postgraduate School, Monterey CA, 1995, p224 (Slide

presented at the Rapid force Projection Conference 2019)

In the context of the ADF and its current ability to rapidly project force in response to an event, the best case situation is that some of these actions must be started well before the “event”. Phase Zero, or Grey Zone Operations, are encapsulated under the language of “Persistent Engagement” as those actions which enhance the likelihood of success through early intervention, prior to conventional or Joint Force engagement post event. Rapid reaction and response through Grey Zone outcomes can be utilised when the element of surprise is lost and the initiative needs to be regained.

Contextually a cost / benefit analysis should be applied as to whether SO can support and enable the conventional or Joint Force entry through early intervention methods, or vice versa, though the adoption of a supporting role to conventional or Joint Forces where the presence of specialist SF asset or effect within theatre is designed to achieve a particular objective. This represents the value that SOCOMD can bring to the conventional and Joint Force through a support / supporting modelled relationship by using SF as a low signature or rapidly deployable asset to aid achievement of relative superiority.

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The right force for the job

As unexpected as this may seem, an unpredicted event within our region necessitating rapid projection of force may not always trigger the physical projection or insertion of SF into the Joint Force Area of Operation. While the analysis and planning that goes into this should not be undervalued, for the purpose of this paper it is synthesized under the Five W’s below:

Who. Who is the best force to respond? In 2019, the Special Operations Commander Australia (SOCAUST) gave the four major units a renewed focus under the label of “Modernisation Vectors” to achieve a holistic approach to multi-domain manoeuvre. The four Modernisation vectors are:

1. Special Reconnaissance delivered by Special Air Service Regiment2. Special Warfare delivered by 1st Commando Regiment3. Decisive Action delivered by 2nd Commando Regiment; and4. Counter Weapons of Mass Effect delivered by Special Operations

Engineering Regiment.

In doing so, SO Units have been enabled and directed to pursue best practice, and provide complimentary capabilities and effects that aid in the task-tailoring of all JSOTFs to generate specialist effects for the supported Commander.

What. What specialist effect/s are needed by the Commander and what is the mission for the JSOTF? Specifically, what specialist effects can SO generate in support of the Joint Force, and what will be generated by conventional and Joint Forces to enable specialist SF missions?

Where. Where is the SF to be located and where are they to generate the effects in support of the Joint Force? Is it within the Joint Force Area of Operation, or are they to generate effects at the Theatre level, externally or remotely?

When. Using Johnson’s language when should the actions, aimed at those critical nodes of vulnerability, commence IOT set the preconditions for the SF and Joint Force? Most relevant to this topic is answering the question when and which force is appropriate to set the intervention? When will the Follow on / supporting Force arrive? SF should be utilised as a critical capability and as an interlocutor to predicate entry or provide specialist expertise; offering characteristics such as stealth, lethality, speed, low signature operations, and/or indigenous capacity building, and at lesser cost to deliver rapid effects to a follow on force before or during longer term intervention. It is worth stating that a central characteristic of SF is that while they can be deployed well forward, they do so with limited


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sustainment and limited duration. Non-traditional sustainment can go a long way to extending this period. But a key takeaway from the initial planning is the identification of who is coming in next, and what Joint, strategic platforms are required to do this.

Why. This question seems obvious, and often the answer is. SF is trained for immediate deployment through reinforcement cycles and remains in a ready state. SF may be utilised as a preferential option because a mission requires the skills, characteristics or attributes organic to the command, or with a smaller footprint, or SF early intervention may be preferable because of political and strategic risk to conventional forces, or viewed as a preferable choice as a result of SF having forged critical relationships within Areas of Operation after several years of Persistent Engagement.

Or perhaps this may highlight that the mission at hand is well within the remit of the conventional force and there is no requirement for SF at all.

Fig 3. Persistent Engagement facilitating the warm start to the Rapid Projection. (Slide presented at the Rapid force Projection Conference 2019)

In the event SF rapid force projection is required, SF can leverage activities and events which target critical nodes of vulnerability, impacting the adversarial commander’s ability to effectively employ his force; SF can find themselves in the position where they have overcome the loss of surprise, regained relative superiority (Fig 3), and are planning the rapid projection.

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A (brief) discussion on the capabilities needed for SF rapid projection.

Through the lens of having to rapidly force project a SF element in the region, there are some critical Enterprise, Joint and SO capabilities that bear highlighting. At this level of classification, this is not going to going to be an exhaustive list of Fundamental Inputs or Joint Capability Effects, nor will it go much below the wave-top levels of discussion. While each of these domain based capabilities are discussed on their own below, the generation of a JSOTF requires habitual interoperability, and seamless integration across the whole of the ADF.

Space. Currently within the ADF, this domain and associated capabilities have captured a significant amount of attention. For the purpose of this paper, SOCOMD is rapidly developing its understanding of how the ADF plans to use Space to facilitate all aspects and phases of its operations. SOCOMD is also continuing to build its understanding of how its competitors and adversaries are looking to use it.

Information Warfare. While not a new consideration for military planners, the importance of all lines of Information Warfare in the modern world cannot be understated. Whether it is through niche and tactical application of offensive or defensive capabilities, or through the deliberate actions that may have started before an event occurs and especially while the forces are recalled, it may be irrelevant which nation or force physically responds and arrives in the area of operations first. If we cannot respond in the information domain and have not established a dominant narrative that supports the mission of the ADF and Australian Government, vide our competitors or adversaries, then our ability to generate mission success is questionable.

Air Projection and Tactical Mobility. When the mission calls for the rapid deployment of forces, it is almost an inevitable conclusion that this involves air projection and insertion. SF continue to hold and refine multiple insertion techniques that support the projection of the force by fixed and rotary wing platforms. However, this, like all profiles, is not without its own second and third order effects. The prioritisation of assets to SF, to support SF profiles may well lead to significant concurrency challenges with the strategic assets. It could also lead to delays in the deployment of the Follow on Force. Another consideration is that the ADF may not own the airspace; or the ADF may need to consider the actions of Third Party Nations, who may not be physically present in the area of operations, but have an interest in the outcome that is at odds with ours. Furthermore, the projection of the force by air into the theatre may require SF to kinetically or non-kinetically dis-integrate an adversary’s A2AD network first, utilising access and effects generated in prior operations.

Maritime Projection and Sea Basing. Maritime projection and / or sea basing for the SF is critical to SO Rapid Force Projection. Whether it is through


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judicial prior deployment based off indicators and warnings, or the fortuitous location of a maritime platform near to the area of operation, RAN platforms are critical components of any operation within our primary operating environment. Furthermore, if SF re-define “rapid” to mean “as soon as possible” instead of “now”, their utility becomes even more apparent as there are characteristics of these platforms which support the clandestine projection, albeit deliberate SF deployment, into an area of operation. This projection may be the mission, but it equally may be in support of the mission.

Land Tactical Mobility. Getting to the area of operation rapidly starts to become less important if the force is limited to the range tactical patrols can reach on foot. For SF, having a family of light to medium sized, unprotected and protected, armed and unarmed, attributable and other vehicles that are used to conduct the missions at hand, is essential. Looking solely at attributable SF vehicles, as in those that are immediately obvious as military, SF need a vehicle that strikes the balance between project-ability, mobility, force protection (armour) and force application (weapons systems). If this capability has a weakness then it is the sustainability of the fleet. If the mission and requirements call for bespoke, then this should be an outlier. However, the efficiencies gained by modifying General Service vehicles cannot be understated. This is not blind advocacy for a new Long Range Patrol Vehicle or Special Patrol Vehicle based on nostalgic operations of days gone by. However, if contemporary requirements exist, then SF would be short sighted to consider otherwise. In that same vein, if the requirement is for something different altogether, then it should be considered as a one off.

SF Combat Service Support. It was highlighted earlier that a characteristic of SF is the ability to deploy with limited sustainment with a relatively short operational endurance before sustainment and replenishment is required. While some of this is mitigated though local procurement and non-traditional means, it must be said that there is no point rapidly projecting a force if you cannot sustain and support them. For SF, and the wider ADF, there remains the opportunity for the force to fall back on caches created during previous operations and activities; alternatively, they can be sustained in the field using Precision Air Drop and Mass Drop. Finally, perhaps one of the more under-communicated capabilities within the force is that of “soft power”. Specifically, elements of a Special Operations Task Force, which are not traditionally seen as SF, yet are effect-multipliers through activities such as provision of medical and veterinarian clinics.

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Conclusion

By their very nature, unforeseen events requiring the rapid projection of forces indicate that the element of surprise is lost, and most likely, that the ADF needs to regain the initiative. As a critical part of the response architecture, SF offer our Leadership and Government a comprehensive suite of response options across the spectrum of Competition to Conflict. This paper offers an alternative perspective to the utility of SF in the Future of Rapid Force Projection to enable a “warm start” through preceding years of Persistent Engagement. SF will remain ready to provide sequenced, synchronised no-notice operations – into permissive and non-permissive regions – which are Supporting the Joint Force, not just Supported by.


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Notes on Contributors

Transform AqorauTransform Aqorau is a Solomon Islands national. He was pioneer and

inaugural CEO of the PNA Office in Majuro, Marshall Islands. The PNA countries’ waters account for about 70-80% of the tuna caught in the Western and Central Pacific region, and about 35-40% of the raw material for the world’s canned tuna. They have been driving innovative management and conservation measures in the Pacific including pushing for High Seas Closures, FAD closures, instituting 100% Observer coverage on purse seiners, FAD tracking and monitoring, and developing an integrated Fisheries Information Management system (FIMS). As CEO of the PNA, he was Administrator of the Longline and Purse Seine Vessel Day Scheme. The latter is one of the most complex and largest fisheries management systems in the world. He was previously Deputy Director and Legal Counsel of the Pacific Islands Forum Fisheries, Legal Adviser and Acting Deputy Secretary of the Ministry of Foreign affairs of the Solomon Islands, and Legal Adviser of the Pacific Islands Forum Fisheries Agency. He is now CEO of iTuna Intel, a Solomon Islands based Consultancy and Research Firm on international fisheries. He is also Director of Pacific Catalyst, a research consortium made up of Duke University, University of the South Pacific, University of Wollongong, the Environmental Defense Fund (EDF) and iTuna Intel. He is currently on a 3 Month Fellowship with the ANU Department of Pacific Affairs. He holds a PhD in law from the Centre for Natural Resources and Policy at the University of Wollongong, Australia, and is a Senior Visiting Fellow of the Australian National Centre for Oceans, Resources and Security, and Adjunct Visiting Fellow at the School of Government, Development and International Affairs at USP.

Lieutenant Colonel David BeaumontLieutenant Colonel Beaumont’s professional history includes a wide range

of Army and Joint appointments, from tactical units to strategic headquarters. His core fields of expertise include mobility planning and ‘theatre’ logistics support, and he has been actively involved in Army concept development and modernisation throughout the last decade. He has seen operational service in East Timor, Iraq and Afghanistan at various stages of his career. In 2017 he was selected to undertake doctoral research regarding logistics and preparedness at the Strategic and Defence Studies Centre, Australian National University, as a Chief of Army Scholar and as a Military Fellow. This was followed by his selection as Commanding Officer / Chief Instructor at the Army School of Logistics Operations commencing 2018.


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Lieutenant Colonel Beaumont advocates for an improved understanding of logistics issues and consequences within the military, academic and national-security communities. He has written extensively on topics ranging from strategy, strategic competition, preparedness, organisational design and force structure, policy to operational logistics. He publishes regularly at ‘Logistics in War’ (www.logisticsinwar. com) and has authored numerous other articles and papers. His last major published work was a comprehensive examination of Army’s logistics in ‘Transforming Australian Army Logistics to support the Joint Land Force’. This paper considered the imperatives for change, and proposed a way forward to better prepare Army for future operational challenges.

Lieutenant Colonel Clarke BrownLieutenant Colonel Clarke Brown is a logistics officer with a background in

operational movements. Lieutenant Colonel Brown is currently posted to Joint Logistics Command and has a particular interest in mobilisation and the ability of industry to respond to Defence’s operational requirements.

Lieutenant Colonel Michael CookMick Cook is an Australian writer and digital content producer. Mick’s writing

and digital content focuses on war, warfare, and professional development of military professionals and public servants. He is passionate about strategic communications and enabling discourse on public issues. He is a non-resident fellow at the Modern War Institute at West Point. He is a professional staff member at the Defence Research Institute at the University of New South Wales and a sessional academic in the School of Arts and Communication at the University of Canberra. Mick spent 18 years as an Artillery Officer in the Australian Regular Army before transferring to reserve service. He is currently posted to the Australian Army Research Centre as Staff Officer Grade 1 Research and Projects.

Commander Alastair CooperCommander Alastair Cooper is a Maritime Warfare Officer and has served

at sea and ashore. Prior to joining the Sea Power Centre as Deputy Director, he served in Navy Capability Division 2017-18 and was the Research Officer to Chief of Navy in 2012-15.

In his civilian career, he was Director Critical Infrastructure Resilience Strategy and Director Physical Security Risk in the Commonwealth Attorney-General’s Department, an Adviser in the Department of the Prime Minister and Cabinet and an analyst for the Defence Intelligence Organisation.

An ADFA graduate with an honours degree in History, he has contributed to several books and is the author of several journal articles on Australian naval history and maritime affairs.

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Colonel Jim HammettFollowing a period of service as an Infantry soldier and junior Non

Commissioned Officer between 1988 and 1994, Colonel Jim Hammett graduated from Royal Military College Duntroon in 1996. Returning back to the Infantry Corps, he has performed Regimental duties with four of the Royal Australian Regiment’s Infantry Battalions, and also with 1st Bn Scots Guards as exchange officer.

He has performed a variety of unit, formation and Army level staff roles, and has held instructional appointments at the Royal Military College and the School of Infantry.

He has commanded, on operations, at every level from rifle section through to unit. He has seen operational service in Somalia, East Timor (thrice), Iraq (twice), Tonga and Afghanistan. Colonel Hammett commanded the 8th/9th Battalion of the Royal Australian Regiment from 2014 to 2016, and in early 2017 assumed the role of Director, Recruiting and Retention Army.

Wing Commander Peter HunterPeter is Director of Air Force Strategy in Air Force headquarters.He has over 25 years’ experience in national security agencies in the Australian

Government, having worked across multiple government departments in the foreign and strategic policy communities. He also has substantial experience of the National Intelligence Community.

He has served as adviser to the Minister for Defence, and undertaken postings to Papua New Guinea and Kenya with the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade, having commenced his career as an officer in the RAAF. He is married with two children, and speaks Japanese, French and Melanesian Pidgin.

He is completing a research PhD on Australian air power strategy.

Richard Iron CMG OBERichard Iron was educated at the King’s School, Canterbury and the University

of Cambridge. He served for 37 years in the British Army, largely spent on operations in Northern Ireland (eight tours), the Sultanate of Oman, the Falkland Islands, the Balkans and Iraq.

He commanded an armoured infantry battalion in Bosnia and in Kosovo. He led a UK/US planning team in Kuwait for the 2003 invasion of Iraq. He was also responsible for the British Army’s subsequent analysis of the Iraq War.

In addition, he was an expert military witness for the prosecution in the Sierra Leone War Crimes trials, where he worked with ex-members of various guerrilla groups.

He was the Chief Mentor to the Iraqi commander in southern Iraq, planning and implementing the 2008 operation to free Basra from Iranian-backed Shi’a militias. Later, he was Defence Fellow at the University of Oxford and worked for


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the UK’s Chief of Defence Staff on developing the UK MOD’s capacity to think and work strategically.

After leaving the Army in 2012, he led the operation to provide security to the remaining US presence in Iraq. As a consultant he wrote and delivered the end of course strategic exercises for Royal College of Defence Studies and the Omani National Defence College. He was also a visiting fellow at the University of Oxford Changing Character of War programme.

He was Chief Operating Officer of Equilibrium-Global, an international strategic consultancy based in London, chaired by Lord David Richards. Major projects included advising the Kingdom of Bahrain on how to survive in the post-hydrocarbon age and working with the King of Jordan to roll back radical Islam in the Horn of Africa.

He moved to Melbourne in early 2016. He continues to write and lecture widely on doctrine, military history and counter-insurgency. His current research topics are radical Islam in the Middle East and warfare in Africa. He was lead editor of British Generals in Blair’s Wars and is writing a history of the Sierra Leone war from an African perspective. He is a Council Member of the Australian Institute of International Affairs in Victoria, where he hosts a series of conversations with interesting and influential people.

Professor Sanu KainikaraSanu Kainikara is the Air Power Strategist at the RAAF’s Air Power

Development Centre. He is an Adjunct Professor at the University of New South Wales and the inaugural Distinguished Fellow at the Institute for Regional Security. He is the author of numerous papers on international politics, national security issues, and security strategy in reputed international journals; and has also presented papers, on invitation, in a number of International Conferences around the world.

Professor Kainikara is a former fighter pilot of the Indian Air Force. During his service career he was flown nearly 4000 hours on a number of front-line fighter aircraft and has held various command and staff appointments. He is a recipient of the Air Force Cross. He is a Qualified Flying Instructor, and a graduate of the Fighter Weapons School, the Defence Services Staff College, as well as the College of Air Warfare.

Sanu is the author of 11 books dealing with national security, military strategy and air power. He is a keen student of Indian history and is in the process of writing the history of India in a series of books titled From Indus to Independence: A Trek through Indian History. The first five volumes of the series have been published and the sixth volume is being written. In addition, he has also published three collections of political essays.

Professor Kainikara holds two Bachelor degrees, A Master of Arts in Defence and Strategic Studies from the University of Madras and his PhD in International Politics was awarded by the University of Adelaide.

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Commander Kate Elizabeth MillerCommander Kate Miller joined the Royal Australian Navy in 1994 and

graduated from the Australian Defence Force Academy in 1996. From 1997 - 2002 she served at sea in HMA Ships Torrens, Brisbane and Newcastle, participating in border protection duties and active service in the North Arabian Gulf in 2002 conducting maritime interception operations. Commander Miller served in a variety of logistic and personnel shore postings in Navy Headquarters, returning to HMAS Newcastle as the Maritime Logistics Officer in 2005, where her department was awarded the Supply Excellence Award in 2006. Duties included Task Group Logistic Commander for multi-national and bi-lateral exercises, further border protection duties and Operation Quickstep (Fiji) where Newcastle provided logistic support after the helicopter accident that occurred in HMAS Kanimbla.

Commander Miller’s breadth of shore postings include Fleet Headquarters staff and policy positions, specialist logistic information systems positions and Navy Headquarters logistics, capability and infrastructure positions. Commander Miller also has joint capability experience gained in Force Integration Division, resolving integration and interoperability issues. Further career highlights include participating in Talisman Sabre and RIMPAC coalition exercises in the Maritime Component Command, following her passion for delivering well executed logistic plans aligned with operational and strategic level intent. Commander Miller is presently the Commander Logistics embarked in HMAS Adelaide.

Commander Miller is a graduate of Australian Command and Staff College (pscj 2014) and holds a Master’s degree in Defence and Strategic Studies.

Lieutenant Colonel Joel PackerLieutenant Colonel Joel Packer is a career Infantry officer with an interest

in Special Forces. He has commanded at the Platoon and Sub-unit level. He has served in East Timor and Timor Leste, Iraq, Afghanistan and on domestic counter terrorism duties. He has filled Staff and Capability and Development appointments at the Regimental and Headquarters level.

Dr. Albert PalazzoDr. Albert Palazzo is the Director of War Studies in the Australian Army

Research Centre, a part of the Land Warfare Branch. Originally from New York City he migrated to Australia in 1996 and took up employment at the Australian Defence Force Academy. In 2006 he joined the Australian Army as a researcher in the Land Warfare Studies Centre. His Ph.D. is from The Ohio State University where he studied with Professors Allan Millett and Williamson Murray. His thesis was published as Seeking Victory on The Western Front: The British Army & Chemical Warfare in World War I. He has published widely on the history of the Australian Army and the contemporary character of war. His major works


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include The Australian Army: A History of its Organisation, 1901-2001; Moltke to bin Laden: The Relevance of Doctrine in Contemporary Military Environment, The Australian Army in Vietnam, The Future of War Debate in Australia, and Forging Australian Land Power, A Primer. His current research is on climate change and the emergence of a modern 2,000 kilometre-killing zone. He has also published widely on Multi-Domain Operations.

Professor Craig StockingsProfessor Craig Stockings is the Official Historian of Australian Operations

in Iraq, Afghanistan and East Timor. Craig is a graduate of both the Australian Defence Force Academy, and the Royal Military College, Duntroon. As an infantry officer he served in a range of regimental appointments within the 3rd Battalion, Royal Australian Regiment. As a junior officer he served during the INTERFET deployment to East Timor in 1999-2000, followed by an appointment as the Aide-de-Camp to the Governor-General of the Commonwealth of Australia. Craig holds a First Class Honours Degree in History, Masters qualifications in International Relations and Education, and a PhD in History. Prior to his appointment as Official Historian, Craig was a Professor of History at the University of New South Wales (Canberra). His areas of academic interest concern general and Australian military history and operational analysis.

He has published a wide range of scholarly articles, book chapters and books in the field. Most notably these include: a history of the army cadet movement in Australia entitled The Torch and the Sword; a study of the First Libyan Campaign in North Africa 1940-41 entitled Bardia: Myth, Reality and the Heirs of Anzac; a re- interpretation of the German invasion of Greece in 1941 entitled Swastika over the Acropolis (with Associate Professor Eleanor Hancock); and, most recently, Britannia’s Shield: Lieutenant-General Sir Edward Hutton and Late Victorian Imperial Defence.

He has also edited a number of books including Zombie Myths of Australian Military History, Anzac’s Dirty Dozen: 12 Myths of Australian Military History, Before the Anzac Dawn (with Dr John Connor), and a forthcoming work entitled The Shadow Men: the leaders who shaped the Australian Army from the Veldt to Vietnam.

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