Historical Case Studies of Converging Cross-Domain 

Fires in Large-Scale Combat Operations

Edited by Thomas G. Bradbeer

LARGE-SCALE COMBAT

OPERATIONS SERIES

Army University Press
Cover image: Soldiers from the 4th Infantry Division’s 2nd Battalion, 77th 

Field Artillery Regiment, fire a test round downrange from a newly arrived 

M777A2 howitzer at Kandahar Airfield, Afghanistan. US Army photo by 

Specialist Ariel Solomon.

Original tear graphic: Designed by Layerace/Freepik, freepik.com 

Original paper texture: Created by Freepik, freepik.com

Composite cover design: Arin L. Burgess and Michael P. Serravo, Army 

University Press
 

This book is part of The US Army Large-Scale 

Combat Operations Series, which includes:

Weaving the Tangled Web: Military Deception 

in Large-Scale Combat Operations

Bringing Order to Chaos: Historical Case Studies 

of Combined Arms Maneuver in Large-Scale 

Combat Operations

Lethal and Non-Lethal Fires: Historical Case 

Studies of Converging Cross-Domain Fires 

in Large-Scale Combat Operations

The Long Haul: Historical Case Studies 

of Sustainment in Large-Scale Combat Operations

Deep Maneuver: Historical Case Studies 

of Maneuver in Large-Scale Combat Operations

Into the Breach: Historical Case Studies of Mobility 

Operations in Large-Scale Combat Operations

Perceptions Are Reality: Historical Case Studies 

of Information Operations 

in Large-Scale Combat Operations
 
Lethal and Non-Lethal Fires

Edited by

Thomas G. Bradbeer

Army University Press

Fort Leavenworth, Kansas

Historical Case Studies of 

Converging Cross-Domain 

Fires in Large-Scale 

Combat Operations
iv

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Bradbeer, Thomas G., 1957- editor. | Army University Press 

(U.S.), issuing body.

Title: Lethal and Non-Lethal Fires: Historical Case Studies of Converging Cross-Domain Fires in Large-Scale Combat Operations / edited by 

Thomas G. Bradbeer.

Other titles: Historical Case Studies of Converging Cross-Domain Fires 

in Large-Scale Combat Operations.

Description: First edition. | Fort Leavenworth, Kansas : Army University 

Press, 2018. | Series: US Army Large-Scale Combat Operations Series

Identifiers: LCCN 2018033942 (print) | LCCN 2018035484 (ebook) | 

ISBN 9781940804484 (ebook) ISBN 1940804485.

Subjects: LCSH: United States. Army--Artillery--Drill and tactics--Case 

studies. | Tactics--Case studies. | Military planning--United States--Decision making--Case studies. | Military doctrine--United States--Case 

studies. | Unified operations (Military science).

Classification: LCC UF160 (ebook) | LCC UF160 .L47 2018 (print) | 

DDC 355.4/22--dc23 | SUDOC D 110.20:3.

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018033942.

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2018

Editors

Diane R. Walker and Lynne M. Chandler Garcia
v

Foreword

Since the Soviet Union’s fall in 1989, the specter of large-scale ground 

combat against a peer adversary was remote. During the years following, 

the US Army found itself increasingly called upon to lead multinational operations in the lower to middle tiers of the range of military operations and 

conflict continuum. The events of 11 September 2001 led to more than 15 

years of intense focus on counterterrorism, counterinsurgency, and stability 

operations in Iraq and Afghanistan. An entire generation of Army leaders 

and Soldiers were culturally imprinted by this experience. We emerged as 

an Army more capable in limited contingency operations than at any time 

in our nation’s history, but the geopolitical landscape continues to shift and 

the risk of great power conflict is no longer a remote possibility.

While our Army focused on limited contingency operations in the 

Middle East and Southwest Asia, other regional and peer adversaries scrutinized US military processes and methods and adapted their own accordingly. As technology has proliferated and become accessible in even the 

most remote corners of the world, the US military’s competitive advantage 

is being challenged across all of the warfighting domains. In the last decade, we have witnessed an emergent China, a revanchist and aggressive 

Russia, a menacing North Korea, and a cavalier Iranian regime. Each of 

these adversaries seeks to change the world order in their favor and contest 

US strategic interests abroad. The chance for war against a peer or regional near-peer adversary has increased exponentially, and we must rapidly 

shift our focus to successfully compete in all domains and across the full 

range of military operations. 

Over the last two years, the US Army has rapidly shifted the focus of 

its doctrine, training, education, and leader development to increase readiness and capabilities to prevail in large-scale ground combat operations 

against peer and near-peer threats. Our new doctrine, Field Manual (FM) 

3-0, Operations, dictates that the Army provide the joint force four unique 

strategic roles: shaping the security environment, preventing conflict, prevailing in large-scale combat operations, and consolidating gains to make 

temporary success permanent.

To enable this shift of focus, the Army is now attempting to change 

its culture shaped by over 15 years of persistent limited-contingency operations. Leaders must recognize that the hard-won wisdom of the Iraq 

and Afghanistan wars is important to retain but does not fully square with 

the exponential lethality, hyperactive chaos, and accelerated tempo of the 

multi-domain battlefield when facing a peer or near-peer adversary.
To emphasize the importance of the Army’s continued preparation for 

large-scale combat operations, the US Army Combined Arms Center has 

published these volumes of The US Army Large-Scale Combat Operations 

Series book set. The intent is to expand the knowledge and understanding of the contemporary issues the US Army faces by tapping our organizational memory to illuminate the future. The reader should reflect on 

these case studies to analyze each situation, identify the doctrines at play, 

evaluate leaders’ actions, and determine what differentiated success from 

failure. Use them as a mechanism for discussion, debate, and intellectual 

examination of lessons of the past and their application to today’s doctrine, 

organization, and training to best prepare the Army for large-scale combat. 

Relevant answers and tangible reminders of what makes us the world’s 

greatest land power await in the stories of these volumes. 

Prepared for War!

Michael D. Lundy

Lieutenant General, US Army

Commanding General 

US Army Combined Arms Center

vi
vii

Contents

Foreword v

Introduction xi

Chapter 1—“In This Thing With Both Feet”: Eisenhower and 

Operation Overlord’s Airpower

by Joe R. Bailey 1

Chapter 2—Gunners at Cambrai, 1917: How the Royal Artillery 

Set the Conditions for the Successful Armored Assault

by Lieutenant Colonel (Retired) Thomas G. Bradbeer 21

Chapter 3—The Influence of Electronic Warfare on Operational Maneuver

by Major David M. Rodriguez 45

Chapter 4—Firepower and Breakthrough in the Meuse-Argonne: 

1 November 1918

by Lieutenant Colonel (USAF-Retired) Mark E. Grotelueschen 67

Chapter 5—The Division Artillery: Linking Strategy to Tactics 

in Operations Desert Shield/Storm

by Major Lincoln R. Ward 91

Chapter 6—The Kasserine Pass Battles: Learning to Employ Artillery 

Effectively in Large-Scale Combat Operations

by Major Jeffrey S. Wright 107

Chapter 7—Operational Artillery in the Korean War

by Major G. Kirk Alexander 119

Chapter 8—US Army Artillery in the Vietnam War

by Boyd L. Dastrup 143

Chapter 9—Close Air Support and Bombardment Theory: Operation Cobra

by Mark T. Calhoun 163

Chapter 10—Fires and Combined Arms Maneuver: 

The Battle of Vimy Ridge, 9 April 1917

by David Thuell and Thomas G. Bradbeer 183

Chapter 11—The Future of Fires: Dominating in Large-Scale 

Combat Operations

by Major General Wilson A. Shoffner and Colonel Christopher D. 

Compton 203

About the Authors 211

ix

Illustrations

Figure 1.1. General Dwight D. Eisenhower and key leaders 7

Figure 1.2. Map of Operation Overlord 11

Figure 1.3 US Air Force B-17s in support of Operation Overlord 15

Figure 2.1. British Mark IV tank moving through Arras, 1917 23

Figure 2.2. The Royal Artillery fire-plan for the Battle of Cambrai 27

Figure 2.3. Royal Artillery (RFA) 18-pounders in action 35

Figure 2.4. Royal Field Artillery (RFA) 18-pounder 39

Figure 4.1. Map of the Meuse-Argonne Offensive 69

Figure 4.2. Major General Charles P. Summerall 70

Figure 4.3. US Army 108th Field Artillery in action 77

Figure 5.1 Operation Desert Shield/Desert Storm 93

Figure 5.2. 1st Battalion, 9th Field Artillery conducting fire mission 97

Figure 5.3. US Field Artillery Multiple Launch Rocket System 100

Figure 6.1. Kasserine Pass Battles 111

Figure 6.2. A 105-mm howitzer during the Battle of Kasserine Pass 114

Figure 7.1. Gun crew fires howitzer on North Korean troops 121

Figure 7.2. United Nations operations, July–December 1950 123

Figure 7.3. US Army 105-mm howitzer in action 133

Figure 8.1. US Army CH-47 delivers ammunition 145

Figure 8.2. M107 175-mm gun firing during the Vietnam War 149

Figure 9.1. Major General Elwood R. “Pete” Quesada 169

Figure 9.2. “The Bocage Country” in Normandy, France, June 1944 171

Figure 9.3. General Lesley J. McNair 176

Figure 10.1. “The Taking of Vimy Ridge, Easter Monday 1917” 187

Figure 10.2. Lieutenant General Sir Julian Byng 189

Figure 10.3. Canadian MK V 8-inch howitzers in action, April 1917 193
 
xi

Introduction

Thomas G. Bradbeer

The Russian rocket attack on Ukrainian forces at Zelenopillya 

on 11 July 2014 was the first example of Russia’s contemporary 

reconnaissance-strike model on display. The strike targeted a 

large Ukrainian assembly area where Ukrainian forces were 

preparing to uncoil and conduct an offensive. At approximately 0400 on 11 July, drones were heard overhead; at around the 

same time, Ukrainian forces lost the ability to communicate over 

their tactical radio network. A few minutes later a bevy of rockets and artillery fell on the assembly area. The result was carnage—upwards of 30 Ukrainian soldiers were killed and dozens 

were severely wounded, while more than two battalions’ worth of 

combat power was destroyed.

1

—Majors Amos C. Fox and Andrew J. Rossow

According to Army doctrine, the word Fires describes the use of 

weapon systems to create a specific lethal or nonlethal effect on a target.2

Similarly, the Fires Warfighting function, which evolved from the Fire 

Support Battlefield Operating System less than a decade ago, specifically 

deals with the related tasks and systems that collectively provide coordinated use of Army indirect fires, air and missile defense (AMD), and 

joint fires through the targeting process. Army fires systems are tasked to 

deliver fires in support of offensive and defensive operations to create specific lethal and non-lethal effects. To accomplish this, the fires warfighting 

function must accomplish three critical tasks: 1) deliver fires; 2) integrate 

all forms of Army, joint, and multinational fires; and 3) conduct targeting.3

 Furthermore, fires assists operational forces in “seizing, retaining, 

and exploiting the initiative . . . and enhanc[ing] freedom of action and the 

movement and maneuver of ground forces.”4

From the evolution of artillery systems such as the catapult and ballista 

used by the Roman Legions to present-day cannons, missiles, and rockets, 

the purpose of fires has remained constant: to be the maneuver commander’s most responsive combat arm and by doing so assist the other arms 

in accomplishing their battlefield missions. As the Army prepares for the 

possibility of conducting large-scale ground combat operations (LSCO) 

against a peer or near-peer threat, it must confront the likelihood that US 

Army and joint fires—especially cannon, rocket, and missile artillery—

will be vastly outnumbered and outranged. Additionally, for the first time 
xii

in nearly 70 years, US and Allied air and naval forces may not have air 

superiority—let alone air supremacy—during the opening engagements 

and battles of the war. To ensure US and Allied forces do not suffer the 

same fate experienced by the Ukrainian army in July 2014, we must take 

advantage of our intellectual capital throughout the Army and our military 

to make up for our potential technological disadvantages in weapons systems if we are to be successful on tomorrow’s battlefields.

Precision and near-precision munitions with stand-off capability are 

at risk of losing effectiveness against adversaries that contest our hegemony in the space domain, across the electromagnetic spectrum (EMS), 

and through anti-access/area denial (A2/AD) capability.5

 Our ability to 

provide flexible response and deterrent options to combatant commanders 

rests in the aggregated efforts of the greater fires community across the 

land, air, and maritime components—with varying levels of buy-in from 

host nation, regional, and Allied partners. 

This volume is a collection of historical case studies involving lethal 

and non-lethal fires from the period 1917 through 1991 with lessons for 

military professionals who will be engaged in future large-scale combat 

operations. Though the chapters range from the First World War through 

Desert Shield/Desert Storm, they are not organized chronologically. This 

will allow the reader with time constraints to read and analyze those specific battles and operations that strike a specific interest or need. The concluding chapter written by the Commanding General, Fires Center of Excellence, reviews the future of fires and the requirements and expectations 

for lethal and non-lethal fires to accomplish the numerous and complex 

missions the warfighting function will be expected to successfully execute 

during the conduct of multi-domain operations. 

The authors were asked to provide a concise overview of an engagement, battle, or campaign that would be the centerpiece of their case study. 

They were to present the doctrine the organizations were using or attempting to use, the challenges the leaders encountered with the doctrine and 

the operational environment, as well as their actions and decisions during 

the conduct of the operation. Most importantly, they were to address the 

lessons learned by the leaders in these large-scale combat operations and 

how they were applied or ignored. Lastly, they were to identify how these 

lessons learned are applicable to US Army leaders today and in the future.

 Chapter 1 by Joe R. Bailey, the Assistant Command Historian for the 

US Army Combined Arms Center and Fort Leavenworth, examines the 

use of airpower during the planning and execution of Operation Over-
xiii

lord. The focus is on how General Eisenhower overcame parochial and 

competing interests between the different services and nations to ensure 

that airpower effectively supported the seaborne and ground assault. In 

Chapter 2, Lieutenant Colonel (Retired) Thomas G. Bradbeer, the Major 

General Fox Conner Chair of Leadership Studies for the US Army Command and General Staff College at Fort Leavenworth, provides a chapter 

on the November 1917 British offensive operation against Cambrai. He 

will argue that by using the latest scientific and technological advancements in gunnery, the British Royal Artillery was able to overwhelm the 

German defenders along the Hindenburg Line, enabling the successful 

armored assault which followed.

General David M. Rodriguez’ 1989 School of Advanced Military 

Studies (SAMS) monograph in Chapter 3 analyzes two mid-east wars—

the Sinai Campaign in 1973 and the Bekaa Valley Campaign in 1982—

to illustrate the impact of electronic warfare on operational maneuver. In 

Chapter 4, Lieutenant Colonel (Retired-USAF) Mark E. Grotelueschen, 

a professor in the US Air Force Academy’s Department of Military and 

Strategic Studies, discusses the US Army’s major offensive in 1918 into 

the Meuse-Argonne and examines how significant changes made at the 

army, corps, and division levels affected the way firepower was planned 

and employed during the battle, resulting in the most successful attack for 

the American Expeditionary Forces (AEF) during the war. Major Lincoln 

R. Ward, Joint Plans Officer, Combined Joint Task Force-Horn of Africa, describes how the division artillery can achieve the Army Chiefs of 

Staff objective of readiness using Operations Desert Shield and Storm as a 

case study to analyze preparations for deployment and the use of artillery 

during offensive operations against a near-peer threat in Chapter 5.

In Chapter 6, Major Jeffrey S. Wright, an instructor in the Department 

of Military Instruction, US Military Academy at West Point, analyzes 

the February 1943 Battle of Kasserine Pass, the first major engagement 

between American and Axis forces in Africa during the Second World 

War. He examines how both the maneuver and field artillery commanders 

learned from their initial mistakes and were able to set the conditions to 

mass, demonstrate flexibility, and effectively synchronize fires to defeat 

follow-on Axis attacks. Lieutenant Colonel G. Kirk Alexander is the battalion commander for 1st Battalion, 31st Field Artillery, Basic Combat 

Training at Fort Sill, Oklahoma. Using the Korean War as a case study in 

Chapter 7, he examines the principles of fire support in the defense: mass, 

unity of command, and security. He argues that operational success in the 

Korean War largely depended upon the US Army’s ability to provide ar-
xiv

tillery support at the decisive place and time to defeat the North Korean 

and Chinese offensive operations. He also discusses whether our current 

doctrine and organizations can execute these principles against a near-peer 

threat in large-scale combat operations. 

In Chapter 8, Boyd L. Dastrup, the US Army Field Artillery School 

Branch Historian, analyzes the performance of the US Army Field Artillery during the Vietnam War. First and foremost, he argues that the field 

artillery demonstrated adaptability and flexibility, most especially with its 

shift to incorporate airmobile operations in support of maneuver forces. 

He also identifies that the Army became too reliant on firepower to accomplish its missions and that this was not always the most effective way 

to conduct operations. In Chapter 9, Lieutenant Colonel (Retired) Mark T. 

Calhoun, an Associate Professor at the US Army School of Advanced Military Studies, examines the use of strategic bombers in close support of US 

ground troops using the Normandy campaign, and specifically Operation 

Cobra, as a case study. His chapter contrasts well with Bailey’s Chapter 1, 

ensuring that multiple perspectives are provided on the role and use of US 

and British airpower during the invasion of France in 1944. 

 David Thuell, a graduate student at the Norwich University, and 

Lieutenant Colonel (Retired) Thomas G. Bradbeer analyze how the Canadian Corps applied new doctrine in the employment of fires and maneuver 

to successfully capture the German-held Vimy Ridge during the Battle 

of Arras in April 1917 in Chapter 10. Five of the six tenets of today’s 

Unified Land Operations—flexibility, integration, lethality, adaptability, 

and synchronization—were displayed by the leaders and Soldiers of the 

Canadian Corps during the assault on Vimy Ridge. The concluding chapter by Major General Wilson A. Shoffner, Commanding General, Fires 

Center of Excellence and Fort Sill, Oklahoma, presents his vision of the 

future of lethal and non-lethal fires and the critical role they will serve in 

ensuring that the combined arms team will win the first battle of the next 

conflict against a near-peer opponent.

The volume provides three chapters focusing on battles from the First 

World War; three on battles and campaigns from the Second World War; 

and one each on the Korean War, Arab-Israeli Wars, and First Gulf War. 

The work analyzes the use of lethal and non-lethal fires conducted by US, 

British, Canadian, and Israeli forces from 1917 to 1991. The coverage is 

comprehensive and focuses heavily on the successful use of fires in largescale combat operations against near-peer threats.
xv

This work would not have been possible without the voluntary time 

and work of the authors; they are the experts. The authors are a mix of 

active (four) as well as retired officers and civilian scholars (seven). Several authors are current or past Army historians with a significant depth 

of expertise. Some are scholars who have devoted a lifetime of study to 

master the sources, understand the context, analyze the breadth and depth 

of the subject, and develop a skill for presenting each case study in a comprehensible format.

I owe special thanks to the staff of Army University Press for putting 

this volume into physical and electronic form as part of The US Army 

Large-Scale Combat Operations Series. Special thanks to Colonel Paul E. 

Berg, book series general editor; Donald P. Wright for production; Robin 

D. Kern for graphics; and Diane R. Walker and Lynne M. Chandler Garcia 

for copy editing and layout. Russell P. “Rusty” Rafferty, Chief, Classified 

Services, Ike Skelton Combined Arms Research Library, as well as Ken 

A. Turner and Lieutenant Colonel David M. Ward, Field Artillery—two 

instructors from the Department of Command and Leadership, US Army 

Command and General Staff School—deserve special praise for their willingness to locate photographs to support each of the chapters, as well as 

their cogent advice and recommendations. They have made this volume 

better for their contributions. As the general editor of this volume, I am 

responsible for any errors, omissions, or limitations of this work.
xvi

Notes

1. Amos C. Fox and Andrew J. Rossow, “Making Sense of Russian Hybrid 

Warfare: A Brief Assessment of the Russo-Ukrainian War,” Association of the 

United States Army Institute of Land Warfare, Land Warfare Paper No. 112, 

March 2017, 10. 

2. Department of the Army, Army Doctrine Reference Publication (ADRP) 

3-09, Fires (Washington DC: 31 August 2012), 1-1.

3. Department of the Army, ADRP 3-09, 1-1 and 1-2.

4. Department of the Army, Army Techniques Publication (ATP) 3-09.90, 

Division Artillery Operations and Fire Support for the Division (Washington 

DC: 12 October 2017), vii.

5. Headquarters, Combined Arms Center, CALL Handbook No. 18-28, Operating in a Denied, Degraded, and Disrupted Space Operational Environment,

(Fort Leavenworth, KS: Headquarters, Combined Arms Center, June 2018), 6.
1

Chapter 1

“In This Thing With Both Feet”: Eisenhower and 

Operation Overlord’s Airpower

Joe R. Bailey

Multi-Domain Battle requires the ability to maneuver and deliver 

effects across all domains in order to develop and exploit battlefield opportunities across a much larger operational framework. 

It must include whole-of-government approaches and solutions to 

military problems and address the use of multinational partner 

capabilities and capacities.1

—General David Perkins, Commanding General

US Army Training and Doctrine Command

In January 1944, General Dwight Eisenhower assumed his new post

as Supreme Commander of the Allied Expeditionary Force in Europe, 

the headquarters responsible for the cross-channel invasion of continental Europe, also known as Operation Overlord. Among the many problems Eisenhower encountered was the necessity of making airpower an 

asset for the coming invasion. This consumed enormous amounts of his 

time, particularly his effort to gain operational control of American and 

British strategic bombers. 

As the Army implements multi-domain operations into its doctrine, 

leaders should look to the ways in which Eisenhower skillfully maneuvered these choppy winds and made airpower a viable cross-domain fire 

that directly supported the cross-channel invasion. To achieve this, the 

new Supreme Commander fought to establish effective command arrangements and organization for the use of airpower. He not only overcame 

parochial and competing interests between different services but did so 

while establishing a complex, multi-national command. Eisenhower also 

negotiated a complex web of organizational, political, and ethical problems as the air support plan unfolded. 

Eisenhower knew that airpower would be a decisive component in the 

coming invasion. The first step in making it effective meant ensuring unity 

of command and bringing all air forces under his strategic and operational 

direction. In keeping with his background as an infantry officer, Eisenhower had concluded that Germany would ultimately have to be defeated on 

the ground. Thus, he argued that strategic bombers should directly support 

Overlord’s ground forces for a limited period before and after the invasion. 

He disagreed with strategic bombing advocates who argued the primary 
2

mission of airpower was to destroy Germany’s economic centers and defeat the military capacity of Germany to fight. He also disagreed that their 

use of strategic bombing would render an invasion of Europe unnecessary.2

Eisenhower clearly saw the joint nature of airpower. Although he believed that the first mission of airpower was support of ground troops, he 

never opposed the strategic bombing of Germany. To his thinking, strategic airpower could weaken Germany and achieve air superiority for his 

Allied ground forces. Time and again, however, Eisenhower called on 

strategic bombers for operational missions that diverted them from bombing Germany. In giving strategic bombers operational missions directly 

supporting the invasion, Eisenhower established that support of ground 

forces took precedence over the strategic bombing of Germany.

After the war, Eisenhower explained his belief in the dual role of airpower. He noted, 

Many ground soldiers belittled the potentialities of the airplane 

against ground formations. Curiously enough, quite a number 

of Air Force officers were also antagonistic to the idea, thinking 

they saw an attempt to shackle the air to the ground and therefore 

a failure to realize the full capabilities of air attack. It was patiently explained over and over again that, on the contrary, the results of coordination would constantly advance the air bases and 

would articulate strategic bombing effects with ground strategy, 

so that as the air constantly assisted the advance of the ground 

forces its long-range work would not only be facilitated but destruction of its selected targets would contribute more effectively 

and directly to Nazi defeat.3

Eisenhower and the Challenges of Unity of Command

Eisenhower’s problems with airpower organization and command 

structures that threatened unity of command began even before he assumed his position as Supreme Commander of the Allied Expeditionary 

Force. In 1943, British planners for Overlord urged the Combined Chiefs 

of Staff to decide the organization of tactical airpower for the invasion. 

In a message to Army Chief of Staff George C. Marshall on 31 December 1943, Eisenhower bitterly complained about those arrangements. He 

pleaded with Marshall, “I most earnestly request that you throw your full 

weight into opposing the tendency to organize in advance the sub-echelons 

of the Overlord operation in such a way as to tie the hands of the command 

and Allied staff.” Eisenhower also noted that he and many of his staff had 

learned the dangers of such arrangements during his tenure as Allied com-
3

mander during Operation Torch in North Africa, and he urged the Army 

Chief of Staff to let him apply that experience to Overlord’s organization.4

As he became familiar with the organization of the command he was 

about to assume, Eisenhower also found that Air Chief Marshal Arthur 

Tedder, a Royal Air Force officer with vast experience in the Mediterranean, had been assigned as his Deputy Supreme Commander, although 

this officer came “without portfolio [without definite responsibilities].” 

On the other hand, Air Chief Marshal Trafford Leigh-Mallory was given 

command of the tactical air forces although he styled himself as commander of all air forces for Overlord. These arrangements and divided authority troubled the Supreme Commander deeply. Eisenhower’s Chief of 

Staff, General Walter B. Smith, told him, “I personally believe that Tedder 

should be the real air commander and your advisor on air matters, which 

Mallory now considers himself. I don’t think there is a place for both of 

them.” Before assuming command in England, Eisenhower took a short 

leave back to the United States. After a few days of travel with his wife, 

Eisenhower arrived in Washington to meet with Marshall and Chief of 

Staff for the Army Air Forces, General Henry “Hap” Arnold. Eisenhower 

continued his protest of the air arrangements proposed by the Combined 

Chiefs of Staff and also voiced his displeasure at the controversy over 

Leigh-Mallory and Tedder.5

At the same meeting the new Supreme Commander argued that both 

American and British strategic bombing commands should come under 

his operational control for the invasion. Commanders of both strategic bombing forces, Air Chief Marshal Arthur Harris and General Carl 

Spaatz, however, wanted to continue their strategic bombing of Germany, 

insisting that this more effectively employed the bombers. Eisenhower 

referred to their opinions as “dangerous nonsense” and insisted that the 

most effective use of strategic air forces was to directly support Overlord.6

Eisenhower left Washington for his new command without a satisfactory 

solution to his airpower problems. The topic received much attention and 

debate over the next several months.

One of the many insights that Eisenhower gleaned from his time as the 

Allied commander in the Mediterranean regarding airpower came from the 

landing at Salerno. This bloody affair, where Allied forces landed on the 

Italian Peninsula and established a beachhead, cemented within the Supreme Commander’s mind that Soldiers on the ground needed responsive 

airpower at critical times. This experience shaped his future view of airpower organization for Overlord. Eisenhower later stated, “My insistence 

upon commanding these air forces at the time was further influenced by the 
4

lesson so conclusively demonstrated at Salerno: when a battle needs the 

last ounce of available force, the commander must not be in the position of 

depending upon request and negotiation to get it.” He added, “It was vital 

that the entire sum of our assault power, including the two Strategic Air 

Forces, be available for use during the critical stages of the attack.” 7

Very early, Eisenhower attempted to achieve some consensus on the 

consolidation of airpower for Overlord. In fact, the Supreme Commander 

began this implementation before he left Washington to take his new command. Trying to bring the American and British strategic bomber commands under his operational control consumed much of his time. On 5 

January 1944, he sent a message to Smith anticipating difficulty in making 

the necessary arrangements to integrate the tactical and strategic air forces 

according to his plan. He told Smith that Tedder should be sent to consult 

with Spaatz, head of US Strategic Air Forces, to begin planning for this integration. Eisenhower was already directing Tedder, his deputy commander without portfolio, in matters concerning airpower.8

On the same day, Lieutenant General Thomas Handy, the Army’s 

Chief of Staff for Operations, sent a message to Spaatz telling him that the 

Supreme Commander saw his strategic bombers and those of Air Chief 

Marshal Harris, his British counterpart, as the “big guns” for Overlord. 

Through Handy, Eisenhower asked Spaatz to operate in conjunction with 

Harris and his British Bomber Command. Eisenhower had also noted, 

“While the above conception has not been officially approved by all concerned, it offers the only chance of success, and therefore I am confident 

will be accepted by everyone shortly.”9

 Nothing, however, could have been 

further from the truth. Argument through diplomatic and military channels 

over airpower concerns continued for several months. This proved to be 

only the first in a long series of debates that emerged about the use and 

control of airpower in support of Overlord. 

The Supreme Commander, while uncompromising in his requirements 

for Overlord’s airpower needs, was willing to negotiate in order to achieve 

acceptance of his plan by the Americans and the British. In a message to 

Arnold, Eisenhower stated, “To get what I want, I am perfectly willing to 

avoid terms and language that may startle anyone. But there can be no evasion of the certainty that when the time comes, the Overlord Commander must have the full power to determine missions and priorities for all 

forces.” Eisenhower anticipated little trouble from British Prime Minister 

Winston Churchill but was prepared to present his case to the Combined 

Chiefs of Staff, if necessary.10
5

The Air Plan to Support Overlord

Eisenhower directed his staff, under the leadership of Tedder, to begin 

a plan that could be presented to the Combined Chiefs of Staff. On 9 February 1944, Eisenhower told Marshall that the air plan would be completed in the next few days. He stated, “This plan will not only lay out exactly 

what we have to do, with our priorities, but will also fix our recommended 

dates for the passage of command over Strategical Air Forces to this Headquarters. Before I present it to the Combined Chiefs of Staff, I am going to 

have a Commanders-in-Chief meeting on it so that thereafter it becomes 

‘doctrine’ so far as this Headquarters is concerned.”11

Eisenhower’s desire to bring American and British strategic bomber 

forces under his operational control during Overlord brought many objections from, not only the British government, but also from the strategic 

commanders Spaatz and Harris. One objection that British and American 

air commanders had was the appointment of Leigh-Mallory as the Commander in Chief for Air of the Allied Expeditionary Force. Both Spaatz and 

Harris remained reluctant to take orders from Leigh-Mallory, a commander 

whose experience was with tactical air forces and not strategic bombers. 

Eisenhower also experienced objections from Prime Minister Churchill.12

During this debate, Eisenhower told Marshall, “The Prime Minister was 

quite violent in his objections to considering Leigh-Mallory as the overall 

Air Commander-in Chief, although this was his definite assignment.”13

In order to gain Churchill’s approval and that of the Combined Chiefs 

of Staff, Eisenhower was willing to negotiate on parts of the air plan, but 

stood fast and refused to consent to losing operational control of the Allied 

strategic bomber commands. On 29 February 1944, Eisenhower told Tedder about Churchill’s objections to Leigh-Mallory’s command of the strategic bombers and urged Tedder to find solutions with Spaatz and Harris. If 

a solution could not be found, he warned, “the P.M. [Prime Minister] will 

be in this thing with both feet.” He explained his conceptual basis for operational control and told Tedder, “I’m quite prepared, if necessary, to issue 

an order saying I will exert direct supervision of all air forces—through 

you—and authorizing you to use headquarters facilities now existing to 

make your control effective. L.M.’s [Leigh-Mallory’s] position would not 

be changed so far as assigned forces are concerned but those attached for 

definite periods or definite jobs would not come under his command.”14

On 9 March 1944, Eisenhower solved some of these problems with 

airpower organization. A new directive gave Tedder overall command 

of the air forces for the invasion. Eisenhower would exercise control 
6

of these air forces through Tedder; Leigh-Mallory would command the 

tactical air forces that consisted of the US Ninth Air Force and the British 

Second Tactical Air Force. General Spaatz and Air Chief Marshal Harris 

directed their respective strategic bombing units under Tedder’s supervision. The turnover of Spaatz’s and Harris’s bombers to Eisenhower’s 

operational control would take place after the Supreme Commander and 

British Air Chief of Staff, Air Chief Marshal Charles Portal, agreed on 

an overall air plan for their use in Overlord. Eisenhower sent a message 

to Marshall telling him, “This morning it appears to me the air problems 

are at last in good order and will be presented officially to the Combined 

Chiefs of Staff quickly. All air forces here will be under Tedder’s supervision as my agent, and this prospect is particularly pleasing to Spaatz.” 

The Supreme Commander also messaged Arnold, “I think we have our 

Air Forces pretty well straightened out. As you can well imagine it has 

not been simple because of the independent status that so many of these 

Air Forces have heretofore enjoyed.”15

Feeling confident that his plans were moving forward, Eisenhower 

was surprised a week later when the British raised objections to the wording in the agreement with the Combined Chiefs of Staff regarding his control of the strategic bombing forces. Eisenhower’s frustration was evident 

when he observed that, “the air problem has been one requiring a great 

deal of patience and negotiation.” He recorded in his diary:

In the messages coming back and forth from Washington, a sudden argument developed over the use of the word “command.” 

The whole matter I had considered settled a week ago, after many 

weeks of argument. This did not seem important at the time the 

drafts were first drawn up, but as long as the question was raised 

I have recommended to General Marshall that a word be adopted that leaves no doubt in anybody’s mind of my authority and 

responsibility for controlling air operations of all three of these 

forces during the critical period of Overlord.16

The Supreme Commander made it clear that he would have the ability 

to give strategic bombers tactical missions in support of Overlord, or he 

would quit. Eisenhower was insuring that all military assets under his command would work to further the objectives of the all-important invasion. 

Eisenhower Threatens to Resign

Growing increasingly frustrated by the constant bickering of those 

objecting to his airpower plan, Eisenhower determined to wrestle control 

of the strategic bombers or to go home. He noted that he would have one 
7

more meeting with his air commanders to attempt implementation of his 

plan and wrote, “If a satisfactory answer is not reached, I am going to 

take drastic action and inform the Combined Chiefs of Staff that unless 

the matter is settled at once I will request relief from this command.” On 

6 March 1944, General George Patton walked into Eisenhower’s office in 

the middle of a telephone conversation between Tedder and the Supreme 

Commander. Patton arrived in time to hear Eisenhower say, “Now, listen, 

Arthur, I am tired of dealing with a lot of prima donnas. By God, you tell 

that bunch that if they can’t get together and stop quarreling like children, 

I will tell the Prime Minister to get someone else to run this damn war. 

I’ll quit.” Eisenhower also told Churchill that if he did not receive a total 

commitment of the bombers that he would “simply have to go home.”17

Evidently Eisenhower’s threats to resign did not fall on deaf ears. Churchill, eventually, agreed to the Supreme Commander’s arrangement to exercise operational control of the strategic bombers. After being informed of 

wording problems associated with his “command” of the strategic bombers 

and noting that he would resign short of a satisfactory solution, later that 

Figure 1.1. General Dwight D. Eisenhower and his key leaders meet to discuss 

planning for Operation Overlord. Front row (left to right): Air Chief Marshal 

Sir Arthur Tedder, Eisenhower, General Sir Bernard Montgomery; back row: 

Lieutenant General Omar N. Bradley, Admiral Sir Bertram Ramsay, Air Chief 

Marshal Sir Trafford Leigh-Mallory, Lieutenant General Walter Bedell Smith. 

Photo courtesy of Imperial War Museum, CH12110. 
8

day Eisenhower added a postscript to his diary stating that the chiefs-ofstaff found the word “direction” acceptable, and he expressed relief.18

Although Eisenhower won operational control of the strategic bombing commands under Spaatz and Harris, the Supreme Commander still 

experienced trouble attempting to perfect the new organization. Many 

British and American authorities remained confused about who would actually give the strategic bombers their instructions. They also remained 

confused about when Eisenhower’s direction of the bombers would begin. 

On 12 April 1944, he wrote Marshall telling him, “For the past two weeks 

all air operations have been under my general direction and although it 

takes a little time to get new operational lines completely sorted out where 

there have been so many independent voices and authorities, everything in 

that particular field is working satisfactorily.”19

The problems associated with organizing his air plan remained on Eisenhower’s mind for several months. On 22 May 1944, he mentioned these 

problems in his diary. He complained, “One of our most difficult problems 

here has been the setting up of a completely satisfactory air organization. 

This comes about because of the widely scattered interest of the air forces 

and the great strength of units that have been acting in almost an independent way. However, somewhere about 10 April, a special arrangement was 

worked out that gives the supreme commander all the authority necessary 

to secure full support from all the air forces in England.”20

While fighting to gain operational control of the strategic bombers, 

the Supreme Commander faced a concurrent argument about how to best 

employ strategic airpower to support the invasion once the bombers were 

under his direction. Initially, Eisenhower believed that the invasion’s success hinged on Allied air superiority. In his postwar report as Supreme 

Commander of the Allied Expeditionary Force, Eisenhower declared, “The 

Strategic Air Forces also would be given definite tactical responsibilities 

during critical periods [in preparing for the invasion], although their principal mission would be to continue their attacks on the industrial potential 

of Germany, with emphasis now placed on the facilities for aircraft production. They had also definite tactical responsibilities at critical periods of the 

battles.”21 Eisenhower told Marshall that the Strategic Air Forces of Spaatz 

were taking every opportunity to “force the Luftwaffe to fight, and noted that 

Spaatz’s operations were “taking a big toll of the enemy.”22

To Eisenhower, Allied air superiority was vital to Overlord’s success. 

Air superiority allowed freedom of action that enabled the stockpiling of 

men and equipment in England essential to the invasion. Secondly, estab-
9

lishing a firm beachhead in France necessitated the Luftwaffe be weakened 

to the point that they could not oppose the Allied landings. The Supreme 

Commander recalled, “Quite apart from the direct assistance these attacks 

lent to the success of our landings, they were essential also as a preliminary to the intensive bombing of German industry.” Eisenhower once 

again exhibited that he supported strategic missions so far as they assisted 

in the conduct of Overlord, but one could not mistake that the invasion was 

his priority for the use of strategic airpower.23

The Transportation Plan

Having largely achieved air superiority during Big Week, when the 

strategic air forces forced the Luftwaffe to fight and incur damaging losses 

in planes and pilots, Eisenhower focused on ways to more effectively employ airpower as part of the invasion. In his postwar report on operations 

of the Allied Expeditionary Force, the Supreme Commander conveyed his 

intent. He recalled, “Until January 1944, the view had been held that the 

heavy bombers of the Strategic Air Forces could make sufficient direct 

contribution to the assault in a period of about a fortnight before D-day. 

Further consideration, however, indicated the need to employ them for a 

much longer period—about three months—and a plan was finally adopted 

which aimed at the crippling of the French and Belgian railway systems 

and the consequent restriction of the enemy’s mobility.” This plan became 

known as the Transportation Plan, and it called for a large role to be played 

by both the tactical and strategic air forces.24

The Transportation Plan intended to deprive the Germans of the ability 

to concentrate troops rapidly in the invasion area. To do this, the Transportation Plan called for attacks by the tactical air forces against railroads, bridges, and communications centers beginning two months before the invasion. 

The Supreme Commander ultimately hoped that the plan would “hinder his 

[German] efforts to maintain an adequate flow of reinforcements and supplies, forcing him to move by road with resultant delay, increased wastage 

in road transport and fuel, and increased vulnerability to air attack.” In order 

to conceal the actual place of the invasion, however, Eisenhower’s planners 

had to avoid concentrating all of their attacks on the invasion area. Instead, 

they attacked targets in a wide area and, shortly before D-Day, they began 

concentrating their attacks on areas vital to Overlord.25

The Transportation Plan enjoyed support from Tedder, Leigh-Mallory, 

and most of the ground commanders. Like much of his entire air plan, however, Eisenhower’s Transportation Plan encountered resistance. Among 

those objecting to the plan were the commanders of the American and Brit-
10

ish strategic bombing forces, Prime Minister Winston Churchill, and the 

British War Cabinet. Allied predictions of the Transportation Plan noted 

that it would kill 10,000 to 15,000 French citizens if implemented. Churchill and the War Cabinet, considering the possible political ramification 

for postwar France, balked at this idea and urged Eisenhower to develop another plan. Churchill recommended that the air forces should engage 

“bases, troop concentrations, and dumps.” On 29 April 1944, Eisenhower 

told Marshall that Churchill’s recommendations were simply not practical. 

He noted, “The fact is that any large dumps are obviously located near marshalling yards while troop concentrations are by battalion in little villages. 

Any immediate attempt to bomb the German troop units throughout France 

would probably kill four Frenchmen for every German.” The Supreme 

Commander also noted that there was simply no other way the Allied Air 

Forces could help him in the period before Overlord commenced. Eisenhower argued for the necessity of the Transportation Plan.26

Eisenhower had previously told Churchill something very similar on 

5 April. He remarked, “After long study by our transportation experts 

as well as by our senor airmen, it was decided that the only preparatory 

field in which our air force could be profitably employed, other than its 

normal task of destroying the hostile air force, was against the enemy’s 

transportation system.” The Supreme Commander also told Churchill that 

he simply did not see any other way of effectively using airpower to aid 

Overlord, and noted that he thought the estimates of French casualties 

were “grossly exaggerated.”27

Eisenhower continued this discussion with Churchill on 2 May 1944. 

He told the Prime Minister that he had taken steps to reduce French civilian casualties during the conduct of the Transportation Plan. These steps 

included issuing warnings to the population before attacks occurred and 

waiting to attack large rail centers in close proximity to large civilian populations at the latest possible date. Eisenhower did, however, indicate that 

civilian casualties were inevitable in any operation using airpower and 

once again noted that the estimates of French lives that would be lost were 

likely overstated. On the other hand, Eisenhower argued that the bombing of rail centers would inflict very heavy casualties upon French railroad personnel. Finally, Eisenhower told Churchill that he had consulted 

with his staff and found no alternative to implementing the Transportation 

Plan, writing that he appreciated “the gravity of the issues raised,” but stated, “The ‘Overlord’ concept was based on the assumption that our overwhelming air power would be able to prepare the way for the assault. If its 

hands are to be tied, the perils of an already hazardous undertaking will be 
11

greatly enhanced.”28 He explained to the Prime Minister in no uncertain 

terms that he understood the political ramifications in a postwar world 

between France and the Allies if bombing killed large numbers of French 

civilians. Eisenhower argued, however, that the Transportation Plan was a 

vital component to the success of Overlord and must proceed regardless of 

the casualties it inflicted on French civilians.

While the British War Cabinet and Prime Minister opposed the Transportation Plan because of the projected casualties to French civilians and 

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12

the fear of resulting political ramifications, the Allied strategic air force 

commanders opposed the plan for other reasons. They thought that the strategic bombing campaign against Germany was of vital importance, and 

that it should not be discontinued for the more tactical role of preparing the 

French coastal areas for the invasion. Most strategic bombing advocates argued that the continuation of Operation Pointblank, the strategic air assault 

against Germany, would render the invasion of Normandy unnecessary. 

In early February 1944, General Carl Spaatz, commanding American 

strategic forces in Europe, and Air Chief Marshal Arthur Harris of Royal 

Air Force (RAF) Bomber Command objected to the Transportation Plan. 

Spaatz believed that targets under the Transportation Plan were of little 

value and jeopardized achieving air superiority before the invasion. Harris 

wanted to continue the area bombing of German cities. General James 

Doolittle, commanding the Eighth Air Force later noted that he thought 

“the Strategic Air Forces could render more effective aid to the war effort by denying the enemy the facilities he required than by giving direct 

support to our ground forces.” In other words, Doolittle thought that the 

continued strategic bombing of Germany was more effective than using 

strategic bombers as part of Eisenhower’s Transportation Plan.29

Eisenhower consistently attempted to convince strategic bombing 

advocates that he did not want to discontinue Operation Pointblank. The 

Supreme Commander had viewed the continued strategic bombing operations as a way of gaining air superiority by forcing the Luftwaffe to fight. 

Now that Eisenhower had gained the desired control of the air, he argued 

that strategic bombers would be most useful in helping achieve the goals 

of the Transportation Plan although he never wished to completely abandon Pointblank. During his fight to secure control of the strategic bombers, he told Tedder, “It is equally important that the plan recognize the 

tremendous advantages accruing to Overlord through current Pointblank 

operations and therefore be so developed that from the very beginning the 

air operations of Pointblank and Overlord are completely integrated.”30

Nevertheless, the objections by Spaatz and Harris continued. Before 

D-Day, Harris warned Eisenhower that a temporary stop of the strategic 

bombing to assist the invasion would allow Germany, within five months, 

to fully restore its war production.

31 Although Eisenhower made the decision to use strategic bombers as part of the Transportation Plan, he 

demonstrated again that he recognized the significance of Pointblank. In 

May 1944, he wrote Harris noting, “I have of course been familiar with 

the over-all strategic effort against Germany from the air, but since you 

showed me last night the photographs and charts portraying the extensive 
13

damage inflicted upon the enemy within the boundaries of his own country, I am more impressed than ever.”32 After the invasion gained a foothold, 

Harris reminded the Supreme Commander of his warning and urged that 

the Allies return to the strategic bombing of Germany as soon as possible. 

Eisenhower told the British air commander, “I hope I have never left any 

doubt as to my desire to return all the Strategic Air Forces to the bombing 

of Germany to the greatest extent at the earliest possible moment. I have 

been quite pleased, lately, to note the extent which Bomber Command and 

the Eighth and Fifteenth Air Forces have been hitting the centers of German production. Of course we always have the emergencies of the battle 

front, and, most of all, the necessity for beating down Crossbow.”33

Counter to the Transportation Plan: The Oil Plan

In March 1944, General Spaatz briefed a plan he thought was more 

effective than the Transportation Plan. Spaatz’s alternative became 

known as the Oil Plan because it called for the destruction of Germany’s 

oil production facilities and redefined Pointblank operational priorities. 

Spaatz argued that the Transportation Plan was not viable. In short, he 

believed that the plan included too many targets, and it would take too 

long to see any noticeable effects. The Oil Plan, however, would only require 15 days of visual bombing for the 8th Air Force and 10 by the 15th 

Air Force to reduce the German oil production to 80 percent. Advocates 

of the Transportation Plan, however, argued that the effects of the Oil 

Plan would not be timely enough to support the invasion. Tedder wrote 

after the war, “It was considered that, since the enemy would almost 

certainly be holding ample stocks of oil in France to meet the immediate 

emergency, attack on the oil industry was not likely to give the immediate assistance which the assault required. It was therefore decided that 

the primary target system for the Allied strategic bomber forces should 

be the transportation system upon which the movements of enemy reinforcements would depend.”34After protracted debate, Eisenhower settled 

on the Transportation Plan. Now, with his airpower plan complete, the 

strategic bombers came under his operational control and Ike settled his 

command arrangements with his air commanders. 

Airpower over Normandy

On 6 June 1944, Operation Overlord commenced, and both strategic 

and tactical air forces saw large-scale use. On that day alone, 8th Air Force 

and RAF Bomber Command flew 5,309 sorties and dropped 10,395 tons 

of bombs. The tactical air forces flew 5,276 sorties. Targets on D-Day re-
14

mained largely confined to enemy troop concentrations, defensive works, 

gun positions, and communications centers.35

Eisenhower and his staff continued contemplating the role of airpower 

after a lodgment was established. On 3 June 1944, Eisenhower wrote that 

he envisioned offensive operations moving forward in two distinct zones 

of advance, one British and the other American. At that time, he planned 

the establishment of a second army group commanded by General Omar 

Bradley, which would pursue this strategy. The Supreme Commander 

wanted each one of the groups to be supported by its own contingent of 

fighters and fighter-bombers. Eisenhower stated, “At that time a certain 

portion of the so-called ‘tactical’ air force, that is, medium bombers and 

possibly some of the long-range fighters, will remain under the commander in chief, AEF (Allied Expeditionary Force). This portion of the tactical 

air force will be available to assist either army group.”36

Eisenhower’s vision for a second army group came to fruition after 

the invasion gained a stable beachhead. In addition to the tactical air forces that supported each army group, Eisenhower continued using strategic 

bombers to support the ground campaign. Eisenhower wrote, “In addition to the strategic bombing of oil, aircraft, and communications targets, 

we were, during the campaign, to call upon the Strategic Air Forces for 

tactical support. At the time of the breakthrough in Normandy . . . strategic bombers were employed in strength to attack enemy positions, supply bases immediately supporting the enemy front, and strongpoints and 

communication centers within the battle area. In these instances of tactical assistance, the Strategic Air Forces aided immeasurably in turning the 

decision of battle in our favor.”37

One of Eisenhower’s more effective uses of airpower after the landings was its use in breaking up enemy troop concentrations. Before the invasion, he noted in a memorandum, “Because the enemy in great strength 

is occupying a country that is interlaced with a fine communication system, our attack can be looked upon as reasonable only if our tremendous 

air force is able to impede his concentrations against us and to help destroy 

the effectiveness of any of his counterattacks.” Five days later, after Allied 

troops had landed on the Normandy beaches, Eisenhower noted that the 

situation was fluid and that added to the difficulty of assigning targets to 

air assets. He was, however “confident that if weather permits our air will 

intervene effectively in any attempted counter attacks by the enemy.”38

Although tactical aircraft engaged enemy troops, equipment, and transportation, the Allied strategic bombers did not receive another substantial 
15

mission until the commencement of Operation Goodwood, an offensive 

operation planned in the British sector of Normandy. On 18 July 1944, approximately 1,700 bombers from RAF Bomber Command and the 8th Air 

Force, in addition to other bombers belonging to the 9th Air Force, dropped 

8,000 tons of bombs in advance of ground operations. In this operation, 

commanders learned from previous experience and avoided cratering the 

ground that ground forces would need to cross by only using fighter bombers in attack lanes established for armored divisions. They also ordered 

ground units to “attack immediately after the air strike in order to capitalize 

on the paralyzing effect of the bombardment on the Germans.”39

Operation Cobra, a breakout attempt in the American sector, included plans for massive air support preceding the offensive. The planners 

arranged target areas and bombing durations for the various types of participating bombers, timetables for the withdrawal of American Soldiers to 

a zone of safety, and made arrangements to mark the target areas for the 

aircraft. Tragically, despite the elaborate planning, the situation went awry 

almost immediately. On 24 July, the day the attack was to commence, Air 

Figure 1.3 US Air Force B-17s attack marshalling yards in support of Operation 

Overlord, 29 May 1944. Photo courtesy of Imperial War Museum, FRE11844.
16

Chief Marshal Leigh-Mallory was on the ground to observe it. Realizing 

that the sky was too overcast for the planned air support, Leigh-Mallory attempted to call the bombardment off but could not reach all of his 

aircraft. Some bombers reached their targets and subsequent accidents 

and miscalculations resulted in dropping bombs on positions occupied by 

American infantrymen. 40

Commanders halted the operation until the next day. Another bombardment commenced on 25 July 1944. Formations of heavy, medium, and 

fighter bombers dropped more than 4,150 tons of bombs in support of Operation Cobra. Despite further planning to prevent such occurrences, again, 

poor weather conditions and human error resulted in short drops that killed 

111 American Soldiers and wounded another 490. Among the dead was 

Lieutenant General Lesley McNair, commander of Army Ground Forces. 

Eisenhower subsequently told Bradley that he would never again use heavy 

bombers in support of ground forces, but later changed his mind.

41

Referring later to Goodwood, Eisenhower remarked, “Although only 

temporary in effect, the results of the bombing were decisive so far as the 

initial ground attack was concerned. Actual casualties to the enemy, in his 

foxholes, were comparatively few, but he was stunned by the weight of 

the bombing and a degree of confusion was caused which rendered the 

opposition to our advance negligible for some hours.” He also noted, “At 

the same time, the spectacle of our mighty air fleets roaring in over their 

heads to attack had a most heartening effect upon our own men.” The Supreme Commander said similar things about airpower in support of Cobra. 

While the bombardments did not inflict large numbers of German casualties, “the bewilderment of the enemy was such that some men unwittingly 

ran toward our lines and four uninjured tanks put up white flags before 

any ground attack was launched.” The Supreme Commander also lauded 

the success of airpower in other ways. He stated, “The closeness of the air 

support given in this operation, thanks to our recent experiences, was such 

as we should never have dared to attempt a year before. We had indeed 

made enormous strides forward in this respect.” He added that “from the 

two Caen operations we had learned the need for a quicker ground follow-up on the conclusion of the bombing, for the avoidance of cratering, 

and for attacks upon a wider range of targets to the rear and on the flanks 

of the main bombardment area.” Despite the setbacks, airpower proved 

valuable in these operations.42
17

Conclusion

Eisenhower faced similar challenges in organizing and coordinating 

airpower on the eve of the Normandy invasion in 1944. As today’s commanders work to implement cross-domain fires, they would do well to 

study Eisenhower’s airpower accomplishments in support of Overlord.

Airpower served as a valuable, albeit imperfect, cross-domain fire in 

the period before, during, and after Overlord. Although critical to the invasion, the effectiveness and success of airpower in Normandy was not 

inevitable. On the contrary, Eisenhower, in his role as Supreme Commander, engineered the attainment of effective airpower. Through the force of 

his personality and experience, Eisenhower achieved unity of command 

for airpower operations supporting Overlord and created an organization 

ensuring that all components worked toward the same goal. Additionally, 

Eisenhower overcame inner- and inter-service rivalries, differing international priorities, and political challenges while deftly and diplomatically 

orchestrating his own version of multi-domain battle. Today’s commanders 

face similar challenges while establishing cross-domain fires, in addition to 

establishing multi-domain organizational frameworks. For example, Field 

Manual (FM) 3-0, Operations, refers to the responsibilities of a theater 

army commander, noting, “These forces are either allocated or assigned to 

the combatant commander, who establishes command and support relationships with the theater army as required.” FM 3-0 also addresses the role of 

coordinating cross-domain fires. According to the manual, “Commanders 

ensure the coordinated use of indirect fires, AMD, and joint fires to create window of opportunity for maneuver and put the enemy in a position 

of disadvantage. This is accomplished through the operations process, fire 

support planning, and targeting. . . . Commanders use long-rang fires (rocket, naval, surface fire support, and rotary and fixed-wing air support) to engage the enemy throughout the depth of their AO [Area of Operations].”43
18

Notes

1. US Army Capabilities Integration Center, “Multi-Domain Battle: Evolution of Combined Arms for the 21st Century, 2025–2040,” December 2017. 

2. Stephen Ambrose, Eisenhower: Soldier and President (New York, NY: 

Simon and Schuster, 1990), 121. Lieutenant Colonel Michael J. Finnegan has 

also addressed Eisenhower’s effort to achieve unity of command in “General Eisenhower’s Battle for Control of the Strategic Bombers in Support of Operation 

Overlord: A Case Study in Unity of Command,” (US Army War College, 1999).

3. Dwight Eisenhower, Crusade in Europe (New York: Doubleday and 

Company, 1955), 47.

4. Eisenhower to General George Marshall, December 31, 1943, ed. Alfred 

D. Chandler, The Papers of Dwight David Eisenhower, The War Years 3 (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1970), 1648–49.

5. Walter Bedell Smith to Eisenhower. 30 December 1943. The Eisenhower 

Papers, 1648, n. 1.

6. Ambrose, Eisenhower: Soldier and President, 121.

7. Eisenhower, Crusade in Europe, 221–22.

8. Eisenhower to Smith, 5 January 1944. The Eisenhower Papers, 1651.

9. General Thomas T. Handy to General Carl Spaatz, 5 January 1944, The 

Eisenhower Papers, 1654. 

10. Eisenhower to Henry Arnold.23 January 1944, The Eisenhower Papers, 

1677. 

11. Eisenhower to Marshall, 9 February 1944, The Eisenhower Papers, 

1715. 

12. Eisenhower to Tedder, 29 February 1944, The Eisenhower Papers, 

1755–56; Arthur Tedder, With Prejudice (Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 

1966), 508–12; The Eisenhower Papers, 1756, n. 1.

13. Eisenhower to Marshall, 3 March 1944, The Eisenhower Papers, 1758.

14. Eisenhower to Tedder, 29 February 1944, The Eisenhower Papers, 

1755–56.

15. Dwight Eisenhower, Report of the Supreme Commander To The Combined Chiefs of Staff On the Operations In Europe of the Allied Expeditionary 

Force 6 June 1944–8 May 1945 (Washington, DC: Center of Military History, 1994), 9–10; Eisenhower Memorandum, 22 March 1944, The Eisenhower 

Papers, 1784; Eisenhower to Marshall, 10 March 1944, The Eisenhower Papers, 

1766–67; Eisenhower to Arnold, 15 March 1944, The Eisenhower Papers, 1768.

16. Eisenhower Memorandum, 22 March 1944, The Eisenhower Papers, 

1784–85. 

17. Eisenhower Memorandum, 1785; Ambrose, Eisenhower: Soldier and 

President, 126

18. Eisenhower Memorandum, 22 March 1944, The Eisenhower Papers, 

1784, 1786, n. 9. 

19. Eisenhower to Marshall, 12 April 1944, The Eisenhower Papers, 1817. 
19

20. Memorandum for Diary, 22 May 1944, The Eisenhower Papers, 

1880–81.

21. Eisenhower, Report of the Supreme Commander, 9–10.

22. Eisenhower to Marshall, 12 April 1944, The Eisenhower Papers, 1817. 

23. Eisenhower, Report of the Supreme Commander, 9–10. 

24. Eisenhower, 10.

25. Eisenhower, 9–10. 

26. Eisenhower to Marshall, 29 April 1944, The Eisenhower Papers, 1838; Eisenhower to Churchill, 2 May 1944, The Eisenhower Papers, 1842–43, 1844, n. 1.

27. Eisenhower to Churchill, 5 April 1944, The Eisenhower Papers, 1808. 

28. Eisenhower to Churchill, 2 May 1944, The Eisenhower Papers, 1842–43. 

29. Wesley F. Craven and James L. Cates, eds. “Europe: Argument to V-E. 

Day,” The Army Air Forces in World War II, (Washington, DC: Office of Air 

Force History, 1983), 74–75; James. H. Doolittle, I Could Never Be So Lucky 

Again, (New York: Bantam Books, 1991), 387–88.

30. The Eisenhower Papers, 22 March 1944, 1784; Eisenhower to Tedder, 9 

March 1944, The Eisenhower Papers, 1765–66.

31. The Eisenhower Papers, 2033, n. 1.

32. Eisenhower to Harris, 25 May 1944, The Eisenhower Papers, 1888. 

33. Eisenhower to Harris, 27 July 1944, The Eisenhower Papers, 2033; 

Operation Crossbow was the Allied attacks against German long-range weapons 

facilities.

34. Craven, “Europe: Argument to V-E. Day,” 76–77; Richard Davis, Carl 

A. Spaatz and the Air War in Europe, (Washington, DC: Center for Air Force 

History, 1993), 345–46; Arthur Tedder, Air Power in War, (London: Hodder and 

Stoughton, 1947), 108. See also Richard Davis, Bombing the European Axis 

Powers: A Historical Digest of the Combined Bomber Offensive, 1939–1945, 

(Maxwell Air Force Base, AL: Air University Press, 2006).

35. Eisenhower, Report of the Supreme Commander, 19–20.

36. Eisenhower Memorandum, 3 June 1944, The Eisenhower Papers, 

1905–06. 

37. Eisenhower, Report of the Supreme Commander, 16.

38. Eisenhower Memorandum, 3 June 1944, The Eisenhower Papers, 1905; 

Eisenhower to the Combined Chiefs of Staff, 8 June 1944, The Eisenhower 

Papers, 1916. 

39. Martin Blumenson, Breakout and Pursuit, The United States Army in 

World War II: The European Theater of Operations, (Washington, DC: Center of 

Military History, 1984), 188–91.

40. Blumenson, 221–22, 228–29.

41. Blumenson, 233–36; Omar N. Bradley, A Soldier’s Story, 349.

42. Eisenhower, Report of the Supreme Commander, 35–37

43. Department of the Army, Field Manual (FM) 3-0, Operations (Washington, DC: October 2017), 2-3, 2-45.

21

Chapter 2

Gunners at Cambrai, 1917: How the Royal Artillery Set the 

Conditions for the Successful Armored Assault

Lieutenant Colonel (Retired) Thomas G. Bradbeer

At 0620 hours on 20 November 1917, 1,003 medium and heavy guns 

of the Royal Artillery opened fire on the German trenches southwest of 

the French town of Cambrai. This was the signal for 476 Mark IV tanks to 

begin the crossing of no-man’s land.1

 Six infantry divisions supported by 

nearly 300 aircraft of the Royal Flying Corps (RFC) were directly behind 

the tanks. Their objective: penetrate the Hindenburg Line (identified as the 

SiegfriedStellung or Siegfried Line by the Germans) and secure the high 

ground that was the Bourlon Ridge to the north and crossing over the St 

Quentin Canal in the south.2

 If the British could achieve their objective, 

they would capture Cambrai, a critical logistics and communications base, 

secure “the passages over the Sensee River, and cut off the troops holding 

the German front line.”3

Foregoing the days or weeks long artillery barrage that had signaled 

the start of all previous offensive operations, the British artillery barrage 

was synchronized to begin when the tanks and infantry began to cross noman’s land. The Germans, dug-in behind the Hindenburg Line, were taken by surprise and stunned by the overwhelming intensity of the barrage 

fire. The combined arms assault of artillery, tanks, infantry, and aircraft 

achieved greater results in one day than any previous British Army offensive operation on the Western Front in over three years of warfare. 

The artillery fire pinned the German defenders in their dugouts, allowing the tanks to crush the immense barbed-wire obstacles that had 

earned the Hindenburg Line its impregnable reputation, and to overrun 

the enemy trenches and strongpoints. The British captured numerous fortified villages and made an initial crossing over the St Quentin canal. In 

less than four hours of the first day, the British had “smashed” through the 

outpost line and two heavily fortified German trench systems, breeching 

the Hindenburg Line on a front of six miles to a depth of four miles. The 

British Third Army captured more than 4,200 prisoners and 100 artillery 

pieces at the cost of 4,000 casualties.4

 The German Supreme Command 

was so shocked by the British advance that they seriously considered ordering a withdrawal from the entire Hindenburg Line. If the British could 

exploit their gains achieved on the first day of the battle, it might signal 

the beginning of the end of the war.5
22

When the news of the successful attack reached London on 21 November, church bells rang out all over the country to signal a major victory 

on the Western Front. It was the first time the bells had rung since the start 

of the war in August 1914.6

Significance of Battle of Cambrai to Unified Land Operations

Today, military professionals remember the Battle of Cambrai as the 

first battle in which tanks were used en masse in an attempt to break the 

deadlock of trench warfare. More importantly, by synchronizing advances 

in military technology as well as organizations and doctrine to achieve 

combined arms maneuver in offensive operations, Cambrai initiated a 

revolution in military affairs (RMA) in 20th Century warfare.7 More importantly, is the critical influence that artillery had on shaping the initial 

success of the armored breakthrough. Using new techniques and tactics, 

in concert with detailed planning, coordination and synchronization, as 

well as the fire support provided by the Royal Artillery can be found in the 

fire support doctrine of today’s US Army contained in Field Manual 3-0, 

Operations as well as Field Manual 3-09, Artillery Operations. 

The use of indirect fires, such as that displayed at Cambrai, was the 

beginning of what would later be identified as a major component of the 

“modern style of warfare” or as noted artillery expert and historian Jonathan Bailey has stated, “the advent of three-dimensional conflict.”8

 The 

doctrine employed by the Royal Artillery at Cambrai would be used for 

the remainder of the war and during offensive operations of the British 

Army during the Second World War. Many of the tactics, techniques, and 

procedures first used at Cambrai remain an integral part of most artillery 

formations in the 21st Century.9

The Tank’s Baptism of Fire

The British first used tanks in September 1916 during the attack on 

Flers-Corcelette during the Battle of the Somme. Field Marshall Sir Douglas Haig, commander of the British Expeditionary Force (BEF), had requested 150 tanks be shipped to France in time for the start of the Battle 

of the Somme in July with the hopes that the new weapon would assist his 

force in achieving a breakthrough of the German positions. Only 60 Mark 1 

tanks arrived by early September under very tight security. When the attack 

commenced on 15 September, only 30 tanks were operational, and owing to 

insufficient doctrine, were used in small groups to support the infantry assault.10 The debut of the tank had mixed results. Several tanks did very well 

leading the infantry over the German trenches and capturing strongpoints 
23

to include the village of Flers. They also managed to induce panic amongst 

several German units, which resulted in surrender or pell-mell retreat.11

In the after-action review detailing the tanks performance in combat, Haig admitted that the tanks had not achieved his expectations but 

“had saved many lives and justified their existence.”12 He then requested delivery of an additional 100 Mark 1 tanks and placed an order for 

1,000 more tanks that were to be modified based on the lessons learned at 

Flers-Courcelette.13

Tanks were used throughout the remainder of the Battle of the Somme 

and again during the Battle of Arras (April 1917) and the Battle of Messines (June 1917). In each battle, the tanks provided valuable support to 

the infantry. Also in June 1917, Haig approved the creation of the Tank 

Corps with its own commander and staff. Lieutenant Colonel Hugh Elles, 

an engineer, was selected to be the commander and Major John Frederick 

Charles Fuller, an infantryman, was to be his chief of staff. 

It was during the Third Battle of Ypres (July–November 1917), fought 

on the flooded plains of Flanders, where the Tank Corps suffered its highest casualty rate and a major blow to its reputation. More than 200 tanks 

served in the five-month campaign and at the end of the fighting with the 

Figure 2.1. British Mark IV tank moving through Arras, 1917. Photo courtesy of 

Imperial War Museum Q6418.
24

British capture of Passchendaele ridge, the majority of the tanks had been 

destroyed by German artillery in the direct fire mode when they became 

bogged down in the mud forming a “tank graveyard” along the Menin 

Road.14 The Tank Corps received criticism and blame for the lack of its 

success in supporting the infantry and the subsequent heavy casualties the 

British infantry suffered. There were even rumors amongst the British senior leadership of dissolving the Tank Corps.

Salvation and a chance at redemption came from the BEF commander. 

Haig, more than most, knew the difficulties that the Tank Corps had faced 

in the trying conditions around the Ypres salient. In his official dispatch 

after the battle he provided both a rationale for their performance as well 

as a tribute to their efforts:

Although throughout the major part of the Ypres battle, and especially in its later stages, the condition of the ground made the 

use of tanks difficult or impossible, yet whenever circumstances 

were in any way favourable, and even when they were not, very 

gallant and valuable work has been accomplished by tank commanders and crews on a great number of occasions. Long before 

the conclusion of the Flanders offensive these new instruments 

had proved their worth, and amply justified the labour, material 

and personnel diverted to their construction and development.15

A Tank “Raid” or Surprise Attack?

A month into the Battle of Third Ypres, Elles and Fuller began to analyze the terrain along the Western Front in an attempt to find a location that 

could best support the capabilities of the new Mark IV tanks. They identified two critical factors required to support the cross-country capability of 

the tank. The first was an area that had seen little to no serious fighting and 

thus was not heavily cratered by near-constant artillery fire. This would 

allow better trafficability for the tanks, as well as the infantry and artillery. 

Second, the area must not have a low water table and must be absent of 

swampy or muddy ground. 

Both Haig and his staff had considered the possibilities for offensive 

action against the German positions west of Cambrai. For more than a 

year, both the British and the Germans had used the Cambrai sector as a 

location to allow their corps and divisions to rest and rebuild their strength 

after the intense fighting on the Somme, Arras, and Ypres during 1916 and 

1917. Cambrai was considered a quiet sector experiencing little fighting in 

the first three years of the war. 
25

After a detailed analysis, Elles and Fuller identified the ground just 

west of Cambrai as ideal for the use of tanks. The British Third Army, 

commanded by General Sir Julian Byng, was responsible for the Cambrai 

sector. Byng had commanded the Canadian Corps when it had captured 

the key terrain that was Vimy Ridge during the Battle of Arras in April 

1917, and he was considered a rising star for future high command. 

In early August 1917, Elles and Fuller submitted a plan to Third Army 

headquarters outlining a “tank raid” using 200 tanks whose objective was 

to destroy the German artillery behind the Hindenburg Line near Cambrai. 

The plan called for a “hit and run” attack that would last no more than 48 

hours. Nearly simultaneously, another plan for an attack on Cambrai arrived at Third Army headquarters that called for a “surprise attack” in the 

IV Corps sector, a subordinate unit of Third Army.

Though much of the historiography of the Battle of Cambrai gives 

Elles and Fuller credit for identifying the Cambrai sector as the location 

to conduct an offensive operation with tanks en masse, as well as devising 

the operational plan for the attack, it was in fact an artillery officer, Brigadier General Henry Hugh Tudor, the commander of the 9th (Scottish) 

Division’s artillery and a leading artillery tactician, who provided the critical elements of for what would become the operational plan for the attack 

against Cambrai in November 1917.16

Tudor’s divisional artillery supported the Third Army’s IV Corps. He 

proposed a surprise attack in which the artillery would not open fire until 

the tanks and infantry left their positions and began to cross no-man’s 

land. This was a new concept for the use of artillery in supporting a ground 

attack. In all previous offensive operations, British, French, and German 

artillery had conducted days or weeks long preparatory artillery barrages 

to destroy the enemy’s trenches and artillery while preventing reinforcing 

units from moving into the battle zone. These lengthy barrages prevented 

all efforts at surprising the enemy, and in fact did just the opposite, alerting 

the defenders to the impending assault. 

Tudor’s plan called for the tanks to be in the lead to cut lanes through 

the massive wire obstacles of the Hindenburg Line, some of which were 

hundreds of yards deep, while the artillery neutralized enemy artillery and 

forced the infantry to remain underground until the tanks were on top of 

their positions. The most critical factor of Tudor’s plan however, called 

for the artillery to forgo registration on enemy artillery batteries and other 

important targets and thus eliminate the requirement for a days or weeks 
26

long artillery bombardment. Instead they would use “silent registration” 

and “predicted fire” to achieve surprise. 

It was only because of the many technological and scientific advancements within the Royal Artillery between 1915–1917 that allowed Tudor 

to be so confident that a surprise attack against Cambrai was both feasible 

and realistic. He firmly believed that by applying the latest gunnery techniques and procedures, of which silent registration was but one new technique, the artillery would fire fewer shells but with greater precision and 

thus be far more effective than in previous offensive operations. Achieving 

precision and surprise would be the two most critical components of the 

Cambrai offensive. 

General Byng approved “The Tudor Plan” as it was known, on 13 October. Byng and his staff briefed the plan to Field Marshall Haig three days 

later. Recommendations from Elles and Fuller’s plan were also included. 

Realizing that the fighting in Flanders was turning into another battle of 

attrition, Haig approved the plan for an attack on Cambrai and directed 

that the Cavalry Corps with its five divisions be included into the order of 

battle with the intent of exploiting any breakthrough of the Hindenburg 

Line. When Byng briefed the plan to his corps and division commanders 

on 26 October, he stressed the importance of secrecy for the operation to 

achieve complete surprise. 

The preparation for the battle was immense. Six infantry and five cavalry divisions, along with three tank brigades consisting of three tank battalions each, had to be assembled and organized for what was to become 

one of the war’s first combined arms battles. Additionally, 14 squadrons 

from the Royal Flying Corps would observe and direct artillery fire as 

well as provide close support to the attacking armor and infantry units. A 

detailed training plan was developed that ensured every infantry battalion 

had at least two days to train with the tanks that would support them. One 

thousand and three artillery pieces were allocated to support the attack 

with many having to be transferred from the Ypres sector. More than 150 

new battery positions had to be prepared and massive amounts of ammunition, of a variety of calibers, had to be moved by train, truck, and mule 

to these new battery positions.17 In short, the logistics for the battle were 

herculean and all of it had to be done without providing any telltale signs 

to the Germans that an attack in the Cambrai sector was imminent. 

As training between the infantry and tanks took place from late October through mid-November, the artillery units began to occupy their po-
27

sitions during the hours of darkness. Haig provided additional guidance 

to Byng and the final plan code-named “Operation GY” was issued on 13 

November. In his briefing to his corps and division commanders, Byng 

identified three phases with multiple objectives within each phase:

Havrincourt

Wood

+

+







































 









Fire-plan for Battle of Cam

brai

20–23 November 1917

0 1 2 Miles

France

Fontaine

Line achieved at the

end of 20 Nov

III Corps

Couilly

Wood

Marcoing

Copse

Lateau

Wood

Bourlon

Wood

La Folle

Les Valióes

Cambrai

Rumilly

Noyelles

Crèvecoeuer

Lesdain

Les Rues

des Vignes

Les Rues Vertes

Masnieres

Ribécourt

Trescault

Beaucamp

Villers

Plouich

Havrincourt

Flesquires

Cantaing Graincourt

Anneux

Vaucelles

Banteux

Gonnelieu

Gouzeaucourt

Metz

VIII Corps

IV Corps 52nd Div

51st Div

6th Div

20th Div

55th Div

12th Div

36th Div

56th Div

Exploitation Position

16th Bde RHA

+

+

+

+

+

+

+

+

21 Nov

22 Nov

22 Nov

23 Nov

Exploitation

Position

17th Bde RHA







Marcoing

 

La Vacouerie





Demicourt Doignies

Boursies

Hermies

Beaumetz

La Pave

Farm

Pam

Farm

Bonavis

Farm

BANTEUX RAVINE

WELSHRDE

Moeuvres

Bourlon



Le Quennet

Farm

Bantaouzelle

+



+

Exploitation Position 15th Bde RHA

SPOIL

77th Bde RHA

Advance Positions

5th Bde RHIA

Advance Position

16th Bde RHA

First Advance Position

+

Attacks on 20 November

Attacks after 20 November

German Positions and Trenches

Railroad

Road

Smoke60-pounder gun

6-inch howitzer +

N

Louveral

Figure 2.2. The Royal Artillery fire-plan for the Battle of Cambrai, 20 November 

1917. Map recreated by Army University Press; reproduced by kind permission 

of the Royal Artillery Institution.
28

1). The breakthrough of the Hindenburg Position; the seizing of the 

canal crossings at Masnieres and Marcoing; and the capture of the Masnieres-Beaurevoir line (the German Second Position) beyond.

2). The advance of the cavalry, through the gap made, to isolate 

Cambrai and seize the crossings of the Sensee river; and the capture of 

Bourlon Wood.

3) The capture of Cambrai and the quadrilateral defined by Haig and 

the defeat of the German forces cut off.18

Haig realized that the attack required detailed synchronization among 

the tanks, infantry, cavalry, and the squadrons of the Royal Flying Corps. 

He also informed his subordinate commanders that he would call off the 

attack after 48 hours if the attack failed to attain the seven objectives identified in the plan. Haig believed that if a breakthrough did not occur in the 

first 48 hours, the Germans would have the necessary reinforcements in 

place to blunt any further advance in the Cambrai sector.19

For the combined arms attack against Cambrai to succeed, much 

depended on the ability of the British artillery to destroy, neutralize, or 

suppress critical targets while providing supporting fires to the advancing 

tanks and infantry as they crossed no-man’s land. It is therefore important 

to review the organization, capabilities, and doctrine of the Royal Artillery 

from the start of the war through November 1917.

The Royal Artillery: Organization, Capabilities, and Doctrine

When the war started the Royal Artillery consisted of three branches: 

the Royal Horse Artillery (RHA), the Royal Field Artillery (RFA) and the 

Royal Garrison Artillery (RGA). The RHA provided artillery support for 

cavalry units and was considered the corps d’elite within the Royal Artillery.20 The RFA provided support to infantry divisions. The RHA and RFA 

were equipped with the horse-drawn 18-pounder Quick Firing gun Mark 

I, the 13-pounder Quick Firing gun Mark I, and the 4.5-inch (114mm) 

Quick Firing howitzer.21 A well-trained crew could fire 20 rounds a minute 

to a maximum range of between 6,600 yards to 7,800 yards depending on 

which weapon they were equipped with. Divisional heavy batteries were 

equipped with the 60-pounder gun Mark I which had a maximum range of 

10,300 yards. The RGA Heavy artillery consisted of the obsolete 6-inch 

30-cwt howitzer with a maximum range of 5,200 yards. These would be 

replaced with the more improved 12-inch and 15-inch guns.22 The RGA 

was organized for use in coastal forts against enemy ships but also provided the army with mountain batteries of light guns and howitzers. As the 

war progressed the RGA attached a heavy battery to each infantry division 
29

within the BEF. By the start of the Cambrai offensive, the most numerous 

artillery pieces in the Royal Artillery were the 6 and 8-inch howitzers, the 

18-pounder gun, the 60-pounder gun, and the 9.2-inch siege howitzer.

23

At its lowest level, the organization of the Royal Artillery was the 

battery. By 1917 each RHA and RFA battery was equipped with six 

18-pounder field guns and all howitzer batteries had six 4.5-inch howitzers. A major commanded a battery with an additional four officers and 

about 200 men.24 The next echelon within the Royal Artillery was the artillery brigade, which was the equivalent of an artillery battalion in the 

US Army today and was commanded by a lieutenant colonel. Two RHA 

Brigades were attached to a cavalry division with each brigade having two 

batteries. By 1917 the divisional artilleries were reduced to two brigades 

but contained four batteries, with three 18-pounder field gun batteries and 

one 4.5-inch howitzer battery. Army field brigades were formed and were 

used by the army commander to provide reinforcing fires to artillery brigades supporting major offensive operations.25

The Royal Artillery did not have a corps artillery organization in its 

force structure when the war started. Within the corps headquarters the senior gunner was the Brigadier-General, Royal Artillery (BGRA). He was an 

advisor to the corps commander and not a commander. By the time of Cambrai, however, the BGRA was recognized as the corps artillery commander 

(GOCRA) though the position continued to be filled by brigadier generals.

At the divisional level, a Commander, Royal Artillery (CRA), also a 

brigadier general, commanded the artillery. The CRA was assigned a Brigade-Major Royal Artillery (BMRA) to assist with the coordination and 

synchronization of all artillery matters. Each of these positions was created shortly before the start of the war and had evolved from lessons learned 

from the British Army’s experiences in the Anglo-Boer War (1898–1902).

The major lesson learned from the Russo-Japanese War (1904–1905) 

by the Royal Artillery (as well as the artillery formations of the European nations and the United States) was the significant impact indirect fire 

had on the outcome of the land battle. At the Battle of Sha-ho (September 1904), the Japanese positioned their artillery on reverse slopes where 

the Russian artillery or their observers could not see them. From their 

concealed positions, they neutralized the Russian guns and devastated the 

Russian infantry. They also massed fires by controlling their artillery batteries using wireless telephones.26

Though the Royal Artillery revised its doctrine in 1906 to incorporate 

the lessons learned from the war in South Africa and the Russo-Japanese 
30

War, stressing the importance of indirect fire as the primary form of artillery fire, the RHA and RFA spent most of its time in the inter-war period 

training to conduct direct fire. Both branches of the Royal Artillery learned 

painful lessons in the opening battles of the First World War. Using direct fire tactics against the advancing German Army during the fighting 

at Mons and Le Cateau in August 1914, both the RHA and RFA suffered 

severe losses to their battery leadership and gun crews.27 The high casualty 

rate convinced senior British artillery commanders they had to incorporate 

indirect fire as the primary means of engaging the enemy.

With the evolution of artillery as a major weapon system on the battlefield in the late 19th Century, the increasing incorporation of scientific 

advancements and methodologies on artillery systems and procedures was 

not fully accepted within at least two of the three branches of the Royal Artillery. The RFA had earned a reputation of being resistant to change, most 

especially with the advancements that science was having on gunnery in 

the decade before the start of the First World War. The majority of leaders 

within the artillery branch thought that the use of artillery had more to do 

with art than science. It was believed that intuition and judgment were two 

critical attributes that were more important than scientific advancements 

in gunnery for artillery to be effective on the future battlefield.28

“The RFA did not practice temperature corrections, map shooting was 

unknown, and communications were by visual signal, sometimes by short 

telephone line, but more usually by megaphone.”29 The RGA, however, 

embraced the scientific advancements. When the war began it was using 

indirect fire as its primary method of engagement, using instruments to 

ensure all of its guns and howitzers were firing in a common direction and 

using calculated data to account for weather and maps to attain a more 

accurate firing solution. The RGA also incorporated techniques to include 

camouflage as a means to improve battery survivability.30

The Artillery-Aviation Team

After trench warfare set in along the Western Front in the Fall of 1914, 

the Royal Artillery as a whole recognized that it had to transition to use 

indirect fire as its primary modus operandi if it was to be of value in future 

offensive operations. As part of this learning curve, infantry and artillery 

commanders also began to recognize the valuable role aircraft could play 

to augment and enhance their own capabilities.

Within the first few days and weeks of the war in France and Belgium, 

the senior leadership of the British Army came to recognize that aircraft 

could be a force multiplier. On 22–23 August 1914, the RFC conducted 
31

almost continuous reconnaissance missions during daylight and identified 

that the advancing German Army was attempting to envelop the two British Corps near Mons Belgium. With these observation reports from the 

RFC, Sir John French, the BEF commander realized the danger to both 

of his flanks and ordered a retirement that would save the British Army.31

In September, reports provided by RFC aircrew, identified that the 

German commander, Field Marshal von Kluck, had left his right flank 

exposed. In what became known later as the “Miracle on the Marne,” the 

French were able to conduct a counter-attack that forced the Germans to 

retreat 40 miles to the River Aisne and dig-in. During the Allied counterattack on the Marne, the commander of the BEF, Field Marshal Sir John 

French, notified the Prime Minister and the War Cabinet:

I wish particularly to bring to your Lordship’s notice the admirable work done by the Royal Flying Corps under Sir David Henderson. Their skill, energy, and perseverance have been beyond 

all praise. They have furnished me with the most complete and 

accurate information, which has been of incalculable value in the 

conduct of operations. Fired at constantly both by friend and foe, 

and not hesitating to fly in every kind of weather, they have remained undaunted throughout.32

During the subsequent Battle of Aisne and the First Battle of Ypres, the 

evolution of aircraft continued as a weapon of war in support of the ground 

commander. The RFC began to experiment with aerial photography focusing on enemy dispositions and artillery emplacements. The end result was 

that by 1916, hundreds of thousands of photographs were taken along the 

entire Western Front, and in coordination with Field Survey Companies 

from the Royal Engineers, produced accurate and detailed maps that highlighted enemy trenches, unit locations and artillery emplacements. These 

maps enabled British artillery commanders to accurately fix the location 

of each of their batteries as well as the locations for enemy targets. Battery 

commanders were provided with a specially prepared map known as a 

“plotting table” or “Artillery Board.” From these maps, gunners in the Fire 

Direction Center applied mathematical calculations to determine the angle 

and elevation for their batteries.33

The RFC in coordination with the Royal Artillery also began to experiment with directing artillery fire from the air using wireless. By the Battle 

of Cambrai, the techniques for the conduct of aerial reconnaissance, aerial 

photography, and directing artillery fire had become established doctrine 

within both the RFC and the RA.34
32

Advancements in weapon systems and gunnery techniques

As the war entered its third year, advancements by the Royal Artillery 

greatly increased both the range and lethality of its guns and howitzers. In 

tandem with better artillery systems, there was a corresponding increase 

in the complexity of the ammunition fired by the guns. Shrapnel was used 

almost exclusively from 1914 through 1916 with good effect against personnel and barbed wire obstacles but the use of high explosive (HE) shells 

was often less effective due to the fact that the fuse often delayed detonation until after the shell buried itself in the ground, and the force of the 

explosion was primarily upward.35 By 1917 this problem was solved with 

the introduction of the No. 106 fuse, which enabled a HE shell to detonate 

before it hit the ground. The blast went horizontal rather than vertical and 

proved to be more effective than shrapnel at cutting barbed wire. Even 

better, by exploding above the ground the shell did not create deep craters 

that would impede the advance of infantry and tanks.36 A smoke shell was 

also developed to be fired by the 18-pounder.

This combination of improved weapon systems and ammunition, the 

18-pounder and 4.5-inch howitzer and smoke shell specifically, and the 

No. 106 fuse, with a plentiful supply of HE ammunition, made the artilleryman’s contribution to offensive operations much more effective than in 

the first three years of the war.37

Other scientific techniques used by the Royal Artillery to improve 

its lethality and effectiveness included “flash-spotting” and “sound-ranging” of enemy artillery batteries. The German artillery used these same 

techniques, but the British were much more committed in their development and application. Commanders such as Brigadier General Hugh Tudor stressed the importance of using new and experimental methodologies to locate and neutralize German artillery batteries and to ensure that 

these efforts were coordinated from brigade through army headquarters. 

Much of these efforts would be codified in evolving doctrine directed 

by the War Office when it issued a pamphlet titled “Artillery Notes No. 

4-Artillery in Offensive Operations.”38

By November 1917, the Royal Artillery had proven itself to be superior to its German counterpart, both tactically and technically.39 The use 

of sound-ranging and flash-spotting were so effective that the Germans 

feared them.40 The data produced from these two processes could determine a German artillery piece’s location to within 15 yards as well as accurately locate the fall of shot from British guns. By using these methods 

and by working with the RFC, the counter-battery units within each corps 
33

were able to win the artillery duels that took place during the battles of 

Arras (April 1917) and Messines (June 1917). The end result was that the 

RA now focused more heavily on neutralizing the German artillery and 

less on bombarding enemy tranches.41

Having started the war with a 19th Century mindset, the RA had made 

significant and lasting advancements in the development of its weapon 

systems and tactics. Under the visionary leadership of men like Major 

General Sir Herbert Uniacke, MGRA Fifth Army, Lieutenant General Sir 

Noel Birch, MGRA Fourth Army and Brigadier General Hugh Tudor, 

CGRA 9th Division Artillery, the RA had by the final planning stages for 

the Battle of Cambrai proved it was more than ready to assume a greater 

and more significant role in the coming combined arms battle.

Silent Registration

The final piece of the puzzle to convince the ground commanders (as 

well as some of the non-believing artillery commanders) that a surprise 

attack was feasible by not conducting the traditional days and or weeks 

long preparatory artillery barrage, was the introduction of a new method 

for calibrating artillery pieces. The proven technique had been to calibrate 

guns while conducting registration fire on enemy targets as part of the initial bombardment but this eliminated any chance of surprise.

Instead, Tudor proposed that every gun and howitzer involved in the 

Cambrai offensive be sent to ranges in the rear area before moving into 

the line prior to the start of the battle. At the range, crews would ascertain their piece’s muzzle velocity by conducting calibration of the gun 

or howitzer tube; this eliminated the requirement to calibrate the gun or 

howitzer by conducting live-fire and was termed “silent registration.” 

Once the guns occupied their positions behind the trenches, critical information for a target was taken from a map and then a gunnery solution 

was developed and recorded to be used when the barrage started. By 

doing this, Tudor argued, the element of surprise would be maintained up 

until the start of the attack.42

The Battle of Cambrai

With the mission of neutralizing enemy artillery batteries west of 

Cambrai in the opening attack, General Byng had 36 artillery brigades 

(battalions by modern standards) plus an additional 16 batteries of General 

Headquarters artillery units and 11 batteries from Third Army bringing the 

total to 1,003 guns and howitzers to support his six attacking divisions. 

Third Army Intelligence identified that the Germans had only nine bat-
34

teries, totaling 34 guns supporting the 20th Landwehr Division, the 9th 

Reserve Division and the 54th Division deployed between Havrincourt 

and La Vacquerie. The 54th had spent July and August fighting at Ypres 

and was in the process of reconstitution due to its heavy losses.43 The German artillery was thus the first priority on the high priority target list. The 

fire-plan directed all 60-pounders to fire gas on the German artillery units 

and then switch to known reserve assembly areas in the villages behind 

the front lines. The 6-inch guns were to continue the bombardment of the 

German artillery positions until directed otherwise.44

To prevent German observation of the attack, a smoke screen was to 

be fired and maintained by the British artillery on the Havrincourt-Flesquieres Ridge throughout the first two hours of the attack, weather permitting. 

The fire-plan also reminded all artillery commanders that there would be 

no pre-registration on targets and that all RA batteries would use a “lifting barrage,” from one objective to the next at timed intervals, instead 

of a “creeping barrage” that had been introduced during the Battle of the 

Somme the previous year. The 13- and 18-pounders were to fire one-third 

shrapnel, one-third high explosive and one-third smoke. Of the 1,003 artillery pieces providing fire support to the attacking tanks and infantry, the 

most predominant system was the 18-pounder of which there were 498 

at the start of the battle.45 The operations order also provided detailed instructions on the routes and timings to be followed for those artillery units 

who were to move forward as the battle progressed.46 Additionally, for 

the first time in the war, the British also developed a detailed air defense 

plan to support the attack. Twenty-eight anti-aircraft guns were deployed 

throughout the sector with most of them well forward to provide coverage 

up to 4,000 yards ahead of the British front-line trenches.47

The last batteries moved into their firing positions on the night of 

17–18th November. Haig and Byng were confident that the detailed plan 

to use tanks, infantry, artillery, cavalry, and aircraft as a combined arms 

force would rupture the Hindenburg Line east of Cambrai. The two commanders agreed that with limited reinforcements available to sustain the 

attack they had 48 hours to achieve their objectives. After that time, they 

realized the German commander at Cambrai would receive reinforcements and these units would most likely determine the ultimate success 

or failure of Operation GY. 

A thick mist appeared over the impending battlefield on the morning 

of 20 November, limiting visibility to less than 200 yards. At 0610 the 

tanks, the first echelon of the 476 that would take part in the battle, with 

infantry units behind them, moved forward along a front of 6 miles.48 Ten 
35

minutes later, at zero hour the British artillery opened fire, their shells 

landing 200 yards in front of the advancing tanks and lifting forward to the 

German trenches per the fire-plan.49

“The synchronization was excellent and it was a most impressive sight 

to see the hillsides burst into a perfect sheet of flame.” Major E.F. Norton, commanding D Battery, RHA stated.50 The British tanks and infantry 

crossed no-man’s land with their own artillery fire bursting all along the 

front with an accuracy that surprised both the infantry and the artillery 

commanders. The concept of “Predicted Fire” that Brigadier General Tudor had argued so hard for was vindicated in the first minutes of the assault. 

Haig and Byng had feared for weeks that if the element of secrecy was 

lost and the Germans learned of the impending attack against Cambrai, the 

advancing infantry would suffer heavy losses. In fact, all along the Hindenburg Line, the Germans were taken by surprise as the British tanks, in 

platoon and company formations, crushed the massive wire obstacles and 

breeched the German first line trenches within the first hour of the attack.

Field Marshal Paul von Hindenburg, German Army Chief of the General Staff, confirmed that at all levels, the German leadership had been 

caught by surprise with the attack against Cambrai. More importantly, he 

recognized that the British had changed their strategy by using a combined 

arms approach in an attempt to break-through what had been considered 

an impregnable defensive position.

On November 20 we were suddenly surprised by the [British] near 

Cambrai. The attack at this point was against a portion of the Siegfried 

Figure 2.3. Royal Artillery (RFA) 18-pounders in action. Photo courtesy of Imperial 

War Museum Q2017.
36

Line which was certainly very strong. . . . With the help of their tanks, 

the enemy broke through our series of obstacles and positions which had 

been [previously] entirely undamaged. . . . With the Battle of Cambrai the 

[British] High Command had departed from what I might call the routine 

methods which hitherto they had always followed.51

Though directed to neutralize the German artillery, the Royal Artillery 

destroyed many of the German batteries west of Cambrai. The accuracy 

of the massed British guns might have surprised the British commanders but shocked the German leadership who later would question how the 

Royal Artillery was able to achieve such effects without conducting their 

usual barrage to register their guns.52 The answer lay primarily with the 

“Flash-Spotting” and “Sound Ranging” units of the Royal Engineers and 

the herculean work the sappers had done to survey every British gun and 

howitzer location prior to the start of the battle. The RA was able to achieve 

a 90 percent accuracy rate in locating the German artillery positions.53 It 

was a combination of each of these three techniques that convinced Tudor 

that predicted fire based on “silent registration” was not only feasible but 

would ensure that a surprise attack against Cambrai would catch the Germans unawares and set the conditions for a success unlike anything the 

British had experienced on the Western Front up to that time.

A few of the German guns attempted to conduct counter-battery fire 

against the British batteries but the overall effort was negligible, and in turn, 

they were destroyed or neutralized by returning British artillery or by RFC 

aircraft searching for the German batteries to bomb or to call for fire on 

these high priority targets. A single example is noteworthy of the effort of 

the RFC that day. In poor weather with heavy fog, four DeHavilland five 

aircraft located and attacked German battery positions on the reverse slope 

of Flesquieres Ridge, which was at the extreme range of the British guns. 

Flying at less than 200 feet, the four pilots dropped their bombs and then 

strafed each gun position. An hour later a reconnaissance aircraft confirmed 

the German guns were neutralized with their crews dead around their guns.54

By mid-day it was evident that the British had achieved a major breech 

in the Hindenburg Line. Tanks and infantry were advancing on Graincourt 

and Bourlon Wood in the west, toward the villages of Marcoing and Masnieres in the center, and the St. Quentin Canal Crossing in the east while 

the massed batteries of the RFA and RHA continued to lay down fires on 

high priority targets west of Cambrai as part of the scheduled fire-plan. 

Assigned batteries began to move forward to better provide supporting 

fires as British units advanced closer to Cambrai. 
37

The lone German success on the first day of the battle occurred in the 

center in the fortified village of Flesquieres, which sat atop the Flesquieres 

Ridge and so looked down upon the advancing British tanks and infantry. 

Two battalions of German infantry, along with several batteries of artillery, which were dug-in on the reverse slope of the ridge, managed to put 

up a resolute defense, withstanding several intense artillery bombardments 

as well as numerous bombing and strafing attacks from RFC aircraft. Most 

significantly on the long-term outcome of the battle, the German units 

in Flesquieres successfully halted two British tank battalions, knocking 

out dozens of the slow-moving vehicles with 77-mm field guns in the direct-fire mode at close range as the tanks crossed over the ridgeline. Of 

concern to the British commanders was the fact that 179 tanks out of the 

378 tanks assigned a combat mission had been put out of action in the first 

day of the battle; a 47-percent attrition rate. More than 100 were lost due to 

mechanical failures or ditching in trenches with 65 having been destroyed 

by German artillery.55 The loss of these tanks would be a major reason for 

the subsequent loss of momentum the British experienced in the subsequent days of the battle.

Notwithstanding the German defense of Flesquieres, by the end of the 

first day of the attack the British III and IV Corps had advanced to a depth 

of 9,000 yards, captured numerous villages, crossed the St Quentin Canal, 

and taken more than 4,000 prisoners and 100 artillery pieces. British casualties had been light in comparison, soldier morale was extremely high, and 

a breakthrough of the Hindenburg Line seemed likely the following day. 

None of this would have been possible if it were not for the stalwart 

leadership of Brigadier General Tudor and the skill demonstrated by the 

officers and men of the Royal Artillery, the Royal Engineers, and the aircrew of the RFC. Tudor’s concept for the overall plan of attack against 

Cambrai and his insistence on using predicted fires to achieve the element 

of surprise, as well as the precision and accuracy of the guns and howitzers of the Royal Artillery, proved to be the critical factors that set the 

conditions for the success the tanks and infantry achieved on the first day 

of the attack at Cambrai.56

Conclusion

The British continued the attack toward Cambrai on 21–22 November 

believing that they had weakened the German forces to the point that a 

breakthrough into open country could be achieved with one more combined attack by the tanks and infantry. Then it would be the turn of the five 
38

cavalry divisions to exploit the breech. Unfortunately, for Field Marshal 

Haig and General Byng’s Third Army, the Germans proved once again that 

they might bend but they would not break.

After consulting Byng, Haig made the decision to continue the attack 

beyond the agreed upon 48 hours, with the aim of capturing the villages of Fontaine and Bourlon, two German strongpoints northwest of Cambrai. These attacks failed primarily due to a lack of reinforcements and 

exhaustion on the part of the attacking brigades. On 27 November, Haig 

was forced to use several of his cavalry divisions as dismounted infantry 

to repulse local German counter-attacks. Unknown to Haig and Byng and 

their staffs, German reinforcements had begun to arrive in the Cambrai 

area as the battle started, much sooner than the British commanders had 

anticipated. With casualties mounting by the day to unsustainable levels, 

Haig made the decision to consolidate the gains achieved and prepare the 

Flesquieres Ridge for defense. On 30 November, the Germans launched a 

counter-attack across the entire Cambrai sector, and in the course of a week 

recovered most of the ground they had lost on the first day of the battle. 

By the time the battle ended, the fighting at Cambrai had involved nearly 

20 British divisions, a quarter of the British forces on the Western Front.57

Within the military revolution that occurred during the First World 

War, Cambrai is considered to have been the genesis of a combined arms 

revolution in military affairs. More importantly from a fires perspective 

were the lessons learned that would become doctrine within the Royal 

Artillery and the British Army to ensure a complementary relationship between fires and maneuver through the conduct of detailed planning and 

synchronization for the integration of fires. The development of field artillery operations, as well as the organizational force structure required to 

ensure the maneuver force was adequately supported by fires, was also a 

major lesson learned from Cambrai that the Royal Artillery analyzed and 

assessed for application in future large-scale ground combat operations. 

In the first week of the battle the British had achieved a tactical success but they could not overcome the resilience of the German Army and 

its response, which prevented the British from achieving an operational victory. Not until August 1918, during the Second Battle of Amiens, 

were the British able to effectively apply the lessons learned from Cambrai and defeat the German Army in France and Belgium four months 

later. A significant factor which contributed to the final victory was the 

role of the artillery whose relationship with the maneuver forces had not 

changed but was redefined. No longer was the artillery’s primary purpose 

the destruction of enemy obstacles or machine guns; instead it was to 
39

destroy or neutralize enemy artillery. It could also focus more effort to 

the conduct of the deep battle.58

The use of predicted fires to neutralize, suppress, or destroy, what 

today is identified as high-payoff and high-value targets, as the attack 

begins ensures the element of surprise and that the initiative remains with 

the attacking maneuver force. The predicted fire technique developed by 

Tudor would become doctrine within the British, French, German, and 

American artilleries before the war ended. It survives today in artillery 

doctrine around the globe.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly to the conduct of present and 

future field artillery operations in large-scale combat operations, are the 

five requirements for accurate fire: 1) accurate target location and size; 

2) accurate firing unit location; 3) accurate weapons and munitions information; 4) accurate meteorological information; and 5) accurate computational (gunnery) procedures, all of which were developed and put into 

practice by the Royal Artillery during the Battle of Cambrai.59

The tasks and systems that are the foundation of the fires warfighting 

function in today’s US Army, specifically the delivery of fires, the integration of Army, joint and multinational fires, and the conduct of targeting can 

be traced to the lessons learned by the Royal Artillery during the Battle of 

Cambrai over 100 years ago. The doctrinal concepts of preparatory fires, 

counter-fire, suppression fires for gaining and maintaining fire superiority, 

as well as the inclusion of fixed wing air support as identified in Army 

Figure 2.4. Royal Field Artillery (RFA) 18-pounder setting up in new position, 

1917. Photo courtesy of Imperial War Museum, Q5171.
40

Doctrine Reference Publication (ADRP) 3-09, Fires, and Field Manual 

(FM) 3-0, Operations, also evolved from the techniques and tactics used 

by the British artillery at Cambrai.60 The lessons learned from a battle 

fought over 100 years ago provide many valuable lessons for today’s combined arms leaders as the Army prepares for large-scale combat operations 

in today’s operational environment.
41

Notes

1. Bryn Hammond, Cambrai 1917: The Myth of the First Great Tank Battle 

(London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 2008), 68–69. See also Gary Sheffield, 

Forgotten Victory: The First World War—Myths and Realities (Headline Book 

Publishing, 2001), 181.

2. Jack Sheldon, The German Army at Cambrai (London: Pen & Sword 

Books, Ltd. 2009), 1.

3. Alexander Turner, Cambrai 1917: The Birth of Armoured Warfare (Oxford: Osprey Publishing Company, 2007), 10.

4. Hammond, Cambrai 1917, 193. See also Wilfrid Miles, History of the 

Great War: Military Operations France and Belgium: The Battle of Cambrai 

(1948; repr., Nashville, TN: The Imperial War Museum and The Battery Press, 

1991), 88.

5. Bryan Cooper, The Battle of Cambrai (New York: Stein and Day Publishers, 1968), 14.

6. J.H. Johnson, Stalemate: The Real Story of Trench Warfare (London: 

Rigel Publications, 1995), 182. 

7. Drew Middleton, Cross-Roads of Modern Warfare: Sixteen Twentieth-century Battles that Shaped Contemporary History (New York: Doubleday 

& Company Inc., 1983), 51. On the debate between Military Revolutions and 

Revolutions in Military Affairs see Scott Stephenson, “The Revolution in Military Affairs: 12 Observations on an Out-of-Fashion Idea,” Military Review 90, 

no. 3, May–June 2010, 38–46; Michael J. Thompson, “Military Revolutions and 

Revolutions in Military Affairs: Accurate Descriptions of Change or Intellectual 

Constructs?” University of Ottawa, accessed 2 May 2018, http://artsites.uottawa.

ca/strata/doc/strata3_082-108.pdf; MacGregor Knox and Williamson Murray, 

eds., The Dynamics of Military Revolution, 1300–2050 (Cambridge: Cambridge 

University Press, 2001); and Jonathan A. Bailey, “The First World War and the 

Birth of the Modern Style of Warfare” in the Dynamics of Military Revolution, 

eds. Knox and Murray (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001), 132–53. 

8. Bailey, “The First World War and the Birth of the Modern Style of Warfare,” 132.

9. General Sir Martin Farndale, History of the Royal Regiment of Artillery, 

Western Front 1914–1918 (Dorchester, England: The Dorset Press, 1986), 258. 

Specifically, the five requirements for accurate fire identified by the US Army 

Field Artillery can be traced back to the Royal Artillery’s considerations of the 

use of artillery on the Western Front, 1914–1918: 1) Accurate target location 

and size; 2) Accurate firing unit location; 3) Accurate weapons and munitions 

information; 4) Accurate meteorological information; and 5) Accurate computational procedures. See Department of the Army, Field Manual (FM) 3-09, Field 

Artillery Operations (Washington, DC: 4 April 2014), 1-41. 

10. J.P. Harris, Men, Ideas and Tanks: British Military Thought and Armoured Forces, 1903–1939 (Manchester, UK: Manchester University Press, 

1995), 62–67. 
42

11. Kenneth Macksey, Tank versus Tank: The Illustrated Story of Armored 

Battlefield Conflict in the Twentieth Century (New York: Crescent Books, 

1991), 16.

12. Harris, Men, Ideas and Tanks, 67.

13. Harris, 66–67. See also Gary Sheffield and John Bourne, eds., Douglas 

Haig: War Diaries and Letters 1914–1918 (London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 

2005), 229–31.

14. Bryan Cooper, The Ironclads of Cambrai (New York: Stein and Day 

Publishers, 1968), 58.

15. Cooper, 60.

16. The most prominent exceptions include: Farndale, History of the Royal 

Regiment, 216; Harris, Men, Ideas and Tanks, 108; Turner, Cambrai 1917; Hammond, Cambrai 1917.

17. Hammond, Cambrai 1917, 66.

18. Hammond, 78.

19. Hammond, 78.

20. Dale Clarke, British Artillery 1914–19 (Oxford: Osprey Publishing, 

2004), 3–4.

21. The principle of Quick-Firing or QF meant that the artillery piece had 

a hydrostatic buffer and recuperator system that absorbed the recoil after the 

weapon fired. The piece returned to its original firing position while the carriage 

remained stationary and the gun remained aligned on its target. Just as important, Quick-Firing also enabled an increased rate of aimed fire because of the 

gun’s stability. The first artillery piece to possess this system was the French 

75-mm field gun introduced in 1897 that became the mainstay artillery weapon 

of the French Army in the First World War.

22. Farndale, History of the Royal Regiment, 1.

23. In the Royal Artillery, guns were identified by the weight of their projectile e.g. 18-pounder. Howitzers were identified by the diameter of their projectile 

in inches (4.5-inch). 

24. Clarke, British Artillery 1914–19, 8–9.

25. Clarke, British Artillery 1914–19, 9–10.

26. Shelford Bidwell and Dominick Graham, Fire Power: British Army 

Weapons and Theories of War 1904-1945 (London: George Allen & Unwin 

Publishers Ltd., 1982), 10. See also Boyd L. Dastrup, King of Battle: A Branch 

History of the US Army’s Field Artillery (Fort Monroe, VA: United States Army 

Training and Doctrine Command, 1993), 148.

27. Hammond, Cambrai 1917, 30. At Le Cateau the RHA and RFA had 38 

guns captured and most of these gun crews were killed, wounded, or captured. 

Noted Royal Artillery historian, General Sir Martin Farndale would state that 

“Le Cateau was an artillery battle fought with 20th Century weapons by men 

used to 19th Century methods.”

28. Paddy Griffith, ed., British Fighting Methods in the Great War (London: 

Frank Cass, 1996), 24.

29. Griffith, 24.
43

30. Griffith, 24.

31. Air Historical Branch, The Royal Air Force in the Great War (1936, 

Reprint, London: Department of Printed Books, The Imperial War Museum, 

1996), 25.

32. Air Historical Branch, 26

33. Hammond, Cambrai 1917, 34.

34. The BEF General Staff produced numerous pamphlets during the war 

that incorporated lessons learned from each battle. In December 1916, a month 

after the end of the Battle of the Somme, the General Staff issued “Co-Operation of Aircraft with Artillery.” The pamphlet addressed command and control 

issues as well as best practices for directing artillery from the air. The principles 

identified evolved into accepted doctrine by both the RFC and the RA for the 

remainder of the war.

35. Paddy Griffith, Battle Tactics of the Western Front: The British Army’s 

Art of Attack 1916–1918 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1994), 139–40.

36. Griffith, 139–40.

37. In 1915, the Royal Artillery suffered a major shortage of ammunition, 

which resulted in the “Shell Scandal” that nearly brought down the British government. 

38. Farndale, History of the Royal Regiment, 158.

39. Griffith, ed., British Fighting Methods, 35. See also Bidwell and Graham, Fire Power, 110. 

40. Bidwell and Graham, Fire Power, 110.

41. Bidwell and Graham, 110. 

42. Hammond, Cambrai 1917, 67–68.

43. Hammond, 105. See also Farndale, History of the Royal Regiment, 218.

44. Farndale, History of the Royal Regiment, 219.

45. Turner, Cambrai 1917, 29.

46. Hammond, Cambrai 1917, 216–21.

47. Farndale, History of the Royal Regiment, 219.

48. Of the 476 Mark IV tanks involved in the Battle of Cambrai, 378 were 

considered Fighting Tanks organized in nine battalions of 42 tanks each. Fifty-four tanks were to serve as supply tanks towing sledges with additional fuel 

and ammunition to resupply the fighting tanks. Thirty-two were given the mission 

of pulling the barbed-wire obstacles away after the lead echelon of tanks crushed 

the obstacle belts. An additional nine tanks were assigned as wireless communication vehicles to assist with command and control (one per tank battalion), and 

the remaining tank was assigned the task of carrying telephone cable from Third 

Army Headquarters to assist in keeping the higher headquarters informed of what 

was occurring on the front lines of the attack. Wilfrid Miles, The Official History 

of Military Operations in France and Belgium, 1917, Volume 3: The Battle of 

Cambrai (London, His Majesty’s Stationery Office, 1948), 28. 

49. Anthony Livesey, Great Battles of World War I (New York: MacMillan 

Publishing Company, 1989), 149.

50. Farndale, History of the Royal Regiment, 222.
44

51. Field Marshal von Hindenburg, The Great War, Charles Messenger, ed. 

(London: Greenhill Book, 2006), 156. See also Sheldon, The German Army at 

Cambrai, 303. Crown Prince Rupprecht, commander of Bavaria’s Army Group 

in the Cambrai sector stated “The [British] offensive achieved complete surprise. 

. . . Our forces discounted the imminence of a major offensive because there had 

not been any increase in artillery fire. . . . Without a heavy artillery bombardment it seemed that an attack could be ruled out completely.”

52. Sheldon, The German Army at Cambrai, 312. 

53. Farndale, History of the Royal Regiment, 222.

54. Hammond, Cambrai 1917, 124–25. 

55. Cooper, The Ironclads of Cambrai, 135.

56. John Pimlott, ed. The Hutchinson Atlas of Battle Plans: Before and After

(Oxford: Helicon Publishing, 1998), 56–57.

57. Pimlott, ed., 62.

58. Jonathan A. Bailey, “British Artillery in the Great War,” in British Fighting Methods in the Great War, 37–38.

59. Department of the Army, FM 3-09, 1-41–1-44.

60. Department of the Army, Field Manual (FM) 3-0, Operations (Washington DC: October 2017), 2-45–2-47.
45

Chapter 3

The Influence of Electronic Warfare on Operational Maneuver*

Major David M. Rodriguez

Editor’s Introduction: Field Manual (FM) 3-0, Operations (2017), 

is the capstone doctrine on unified land operations describing how Army 

forces—as part of a joint team—will shape operational environments, prevent conflict, conduct large-scale ground combat, and consolidate gains 

against a peer threat. Though then-Major Rodriguez wrote this monograph 

on the influence of electronic warfare on operational maneuver nearly 30 

years ago, the information is still relevant today and will be in the future 

as well. Technology and its applications for the conduct of warfighting is 

changing at an ever-expanding rate. The challenge that military professionals face for adapting to and incorporating emerging technologies has 

and will be difficult. Rodriguez’ analysis of how technological advancements in the area of electronic warfare influenced military operations in the 

1973 and 1982 mid-east wars between Israel and several near peer threats, 

provides us a historical case study on a critical topic for Army leaders to 

study and learn from. When the next conflict starts, the US Army may be at 

a disadvantage in the area of electronic warfare. Our adversaries will use 

cyberspace and electronic warfare to support their military operations. To 

mitigate this threat, the US Army will rely on both cyberspace and electronic warfare counter-measures as well as the best means to use our own 

offensive capabilities to assist in the defeat of a peer or near-peer threat.

Electronic warfare is a field where technology improves capabilities 

rapidly. Warfare in the electromagnetic spectrum began in World War I 

with rudimentary communication interceptions. It has progressed with 

such speed from then to now, that an argument can be made that the effect may be decisive. Chris Bellamy emphasizes that the 1982 Operation Peace for Galilee, “was not the first war in which electronic warfare featured prominently, but it demonstrated how electronic weaponry 

has become pivotal on the modern battlefield.”1 The dramatic increase 

in technological capability to influence war creates the current dynamic 

environment of electronic warfare.

The influence of electronic warfare is felt through the three levels of 

war: strategic, operational, and tactical. This chapter limits the analysis to 

the operational level of war, specifically, the influence of electronic warfare on operational maneuver. The purpose of the chapter is to determine 
46

how exploitation of electronic warfare capabilities support operational 

maneuver by ground forces to the operational depth of an opposing force.

The importance of the operational level of war in our doctrine was 

reintroduced in the 1982 Field Manual (FM) 100-5, Operations, and reaffirmed in the 1986 version. Operational maneuver is a major part of the 

operational level of war. Its purpose is to seek a decisive impact on the 

campaign by gaining advantage of position to exploit tactical success to 

achieve theater objectives.2

The Sinai Campaign in 1973 and the Bekaa Valley Campaign in 1982 

are historical experiences analyzed to illustrate the impact of electronic 

warfare technology on operational maneuver. These experiences in the 

Middle East indicate that electronic warfare significantly enhances the 

ability to execute operational maneuver. However, it is evident that the 

risk of conducting an operational deep attack with maneuver forces is considered high because of survivability and sustainability issues.

After evaluating these historical examples, this paper will analyze future operational concepts designed to win control of the electromagnetic 

spectrum. The impact these concepts have on the ability to execute deep 

maneuver will be examined. The increasing relevance of electronic warfare on future operations is included.

The Theory of Operational Maneuver and Its Relation 

to Current Doctrine

The theory and importance of operational maneuver can be traced to 

the military theorist, Antione-Henry Jomini. He defines two types of decisive points: geographical objective points and objective points of maneuver. Both points, if attained, can lead to operational results. Objective 

points of maneuver are the basis for operational maneuver.3

The geographic objective point may be defined as: “an important fortress, the line of a river, a front of operations which affords good lines of 

defense or good points of support for ulterior enterprises.”4 Jomini further 

states that during offensive action, the geographical objective point is terrain which, if possessed by the attacker, will compel the enemy to make 

peace.5 Compelling the enemy to make peace is one effect that can be 

attained by operational maneuver.

The other objective point is the objective point of maneuver. “Objective points of maneuver, in contradistinction to geographical points of maneuver, derive their importance from, and their positions depend upon, the 
47

situation of the hostile masses.”6 Jomini goes on to discuss the objective 

points of maneuver as points which relate to the destruction of the enemy 

army.7

 Thus, destruction of the enemy army is also an effect attained by 

operational maneuver.

The operational effects can therefore be defined as those that have a 

decisive impact on major operations or a campaign. According to Jomini, the two methods of attaining this are seizure of a piece of terrain that 

compels the enemy to make peace and destruction of the enemy army. 

The results therefore correspond to a given time and location relative to 

the enemy in terms of ability to force him to make peace due to positional 

disadvantage or loss of a major portion of its army.

Tracing Jomini’s concepts to FM 100-5 (1986 edition) will illustrate 

his influence on current and future doctrine. FM 100-5 states: “Operational 

maneuver seeks a decisive impact on the conduct of a campaign. It attempts 

to gain advantage of position before battle and to exploit tactical successes 

to achieve operational results.”8 The decisive impact and operational results equate with Jomini’s discussion relating to operational effects.

Another example of the operational effect of maneuver is the actual 

defeat of an enemy. Effective maneuver “continually poses new problems 

for the enemy, renders his reaction ineffective, and eventually leads to his 

defeat.”9

 This technique also illustrates a means of producing an operational effect. The ability to conduct operational maneuver on the modern 

battlefield demands tremendous coordination of effort. “Leaders combine maneuver, firepower, and protection capabilities available to them in 

countless combinations appropriate to the situation.”10

As situations become more complex due to the rapidly changing environment of modern war, the commander’s ability to conduct operation 

maneuver is critical. The importance of firepower to operational maneuver is clearly stated in FM 100-5. Firepower supports friendly operational 

maneuver by damaging key enemy forces or facilities, creating delays in 

enemy movement, complicating the enemy’s command and control, and 

degrading his artillery, air defense, and air support. At the operational level, firepower can also disrupt the movement, fire support, command and 

control, and sustainment of enemy forces.11

Offensive electronic warfare enhances the firepower effect by disrupting movement, fire support, command and control, and sustainment of 

enemy forces.12 Electronic warfare used in conjunction with firepower is 

a large contributor to the tremendous effects all firepower can have while 

•
48

supporting operational maneuver. Electronic warfare support to the firepower dynamic is increasing in importance on the modern battlefield and 

will continue to increase in the future.13

Protection is another dynamic of combat power that is integral to operational maneuver. FM 100-5 explains: “They (operational commanders) 

protect the force from operational level maneuver and concentrated air 

support. Air superiority operations, theater wide air defense systems and 

protection of air bases are important activities associated with maximizing 

combat power.”14

Electronic warfare is a major player in each of these areas. The increasing role of ground based missiles in air defense roles is becoming 

a technological battle for control of the electromagnetic spectrum. The 

rapidly changing technological capabilities of electronic warfare systems 

make this battle for protection of the maneuver force a question of who 

possesses the latest technology and can effectively employ it. The important role electronic warfare has in support of operational maneuver will be 

the framework for the remainder of the paper.

Electronic Warfare Doctrine

FM 100-5 clearly specifies the purpose of electronic warfare: “Electronic warfare uses the electronic spectrum to deceive the enemy, locate 

his units and facilities, intercept his communications, and disrupts his 

command, control, and target acquisition systems at critical moments.”15

FM 100-6 goes somewhat further by establishing the electromagnetic 

spectrum, “electronic warfare is military action to determine, exploit, reduce, or prevent hostile use of the electromagnetic spectrum.”16

The staff responsibility for the conduct of electronic warfare is assigned to the operations officer and the communications officer. FM 100-

5 declares: “The G-3 or S-3 has the overall responsibility for electronic 

warfare, but focuses his primary effort on offensive electronic warfare. 

The G-2 or S-2 develops targets for interception jamming or destruction. 

The communications electronics officer manages defensive electronic 

warfare.”17 This methodology divides responsibility between offensive 

and defensive missions among different staff sections. Electronic warfare 

directly supports the commander’s concept of the operation. FM 100-5 

states electronic warfare assets should be integrated by the commander into his concept of operation. FM 100-5 emphasizes: “Commanders 

should treat electronic warfare assets much as he treats artillery assets. 

Electronic warfare is conducted concurrently at both the operational and 

tactical levels, and these efforts must be synchronized with each other and 
49

with other activities—maneuver, fire, and air support to obtain maximum 

benefit.”18 Thus our doctrine places a heavy emphasis on electronic warfare as one of the elements of combat power.

The defensive application of electronic warfare includes electronic 

counter-countermeasures (ECCM) and electronic warfare countermeasures (ECM). ECCM are passive measures to protect command, control, 

and communications (C3) systems against enemy activities. ECM can be 

used to transmit through enemy jamming or jam enemy signal intelligence 

systems to screen and prevent enemy intercept.19

The offensive components of electronic warfare are electronic support measures (ESM) and active electronic countermeasures CECM). 

ESM provides information for jamming, deception, targeting, and tactical 

employment of combat forces. ECM is a nonlethal attack of the enemy’s 

command, control, and communication systems.20

Electronic warfare is an important player in deception activities: 

“Careful integration of electronic deception with visual, sonic, and olfactory actions is critical to the successful projection of a deception story.”21

Electronic deception uses either manipulative electronic deception (MED) 

or imitative electronic deception. MED is the passing of false data among 

friendly forces to deceive enemy signal intelligence capabilities. Imitative 

electronic deception is the imitation of the enemy’s own electromagnetic 

radiation to deceive or confuse them.22

Due to the distinctive mission, scarce equipment resources and training problems, an integrated concept for electronic warfare employment 

is difficult to implement. FM 100-5 puts electronic warfare concepts in 

the current perspective: “plans should reflect the relative scarcity of electronic warfare weapons, their limitations, and the transient nature of their 

effects.”23 This transient nature of effects may or may not be true when 

considered in an integrated concept. The transient effects can be turned 

into permanent effects when combined with maneuver, firepower, protection, and intelligence. Control of the electromagnetic spectrum is a new 

mission. The services are like any large organization when it comes to 

assimilating changes, so the changes come slowly. The scarce equipment 

resources make it difficult to train and learn the difficult art of coordinating 

the effects of electronic warfare systems.

Lessons from the 1973 Mideast War

The origins of the 1973 war can be traced to the 1967 war. The defeat 

of Egypt and subsequent occupation of the Sinai by Israel were unaccept-
50

able to the Egyptians. Egypt prepared to regain the lost territory as soon 

as possible.

During the time between the 1967 and 1973 wars, Egypt had to find 

an answer to the superiority of the Israeli Air Force. Contrastingly, the 

Israelis believed that: “Having learned the lessons of the 1967 war, the 

Egyptians would not embark upon a new war until they felt capable of 

striking at Israeli airfields and neutral using the Israeli air force.”24

However, assistance came from the Soviet Union in the form of modernized equipment. Modernization of Egyptian equipment began in 1970 

to offset the Israeli Air Force’s air superiority. The new equipment included more air superiority aircraft and, more importantly, surface to air 

missiles and electronic equipment: 

Through February and March (1970), in great secrecy their (Soviet) men and equipment began to arrive: 80 MIG-21 interceptors; 

27 battalions of surface to air missiles (SAMS); banks of electronic equipment to counter that carried aboard the enemy intruders 

(Israeli); four MIG-25 high-altitude reconnaissance aircraft and 

the crews to man them.25

This is the first time that air superiority was countered by anything but 

more aircraft. The Israeli Air Force was to be dealt with by the creation 

of one of the densest missile “walls” in the world, composed of a mixture 

of various types of Soviet ground to air missiles SAM-3, and SAM-6, 

in addition to conventional anti-aircraft weapons, which would provide 

an effective umbrella over the planned area of operations along the Suez 

Canal. This would to a very considerable degree neutralize the effects of 

Israeli air superiority over the immediate field of battle.26 The Egyptian 

ability to neutralize the Israeli Air Force was the goal for acquiring new 

equipment from 1970–1973.

Due to the equipment and the primary coverage area of the ADA umbrella, the Egyptian air defense system was defensively oriented:

For static defense they might prove adequate (though we still did 

not have SAM batteries to protect every target), but they could 

provide no air cover for an offensive operation especially over the 

open landscape of the Sinai.27

The Egyptians understood the defensive orientation but were limited in 

what they could resource. The important thing was to establish an area 

in which they possessed the freedom to move equipment, arms and men. 

This enabled them to concentrate forces prior to the battle with little to 
51

no interference by the Israelis. This also allowed them to achieve surprise 

when the attack commenced.

The ability to concentrate undetected enhances the ability of a force to 

execute operational maneuver. Though the Egyptians did not conduct an 

operational deep attack, they did establish a relatively safe area to mass:

We had guessed that they (Israelis) would try to knock out our 

SAM radars, which were set back some ten miles west of the canal 

by using strike air to ground missiles . . . we had devised electronic means of countering strike and were quite keen to test them . . 

. the missiles fell hopelessly short. Clearly we were beginning to 

establish a cordon sanitaire east of the canal too.28

This cordon sanitaire became a safe area in which to move, mass, and 

support major maneuver forces.

Engagements which subsequently occurred between the Egyptian air 

defense systems and the Israeli Air Force point out the effectiveness of 

modern electronic warfare. After the initial engagements it was becoming clear “that victory in any such conflict would go to whoever happened 

to have the more sophisticated electronic detection, jamming, and counter-jamming devices.”29 The level of sophistication and the new employment 

methods enabled the Egyptians to gain surprise and the early advantage.

The Israelis were basically caught unprepared the first day of the war:

Poor electronic intelligence before the war left the Israeli Air 

Force unprepared and it sustained heavy losses in the first few 

days. However, it then quickly managed to develop countermeasures to suppress the radar, which controlled most of the air defense systems.30

It was in the interim between the Israeli’s initial surprise and their counter-reaction that Egypt was able to tactically maneuver forces successfully.

The Egyptians, through the use of a missile umbrella supported with 

heavy electronic warfare assets, had established a limited zone of control where they could maneuver. Later, when the Egyptians attempted to 

maneuver outside of this zone, the Israeli Air Force and armored forces 

enjoyed success. “That they (Egyptians) had been justified in limiting 

themselves to the area covered by the missile umbrella was proved to 

them when the Israeli Air Force twice destroyed their advancing forces 

pushing southwards along the Gulf of Suez.”31 This example illustrates 

a strong link between air superiority operations and ability to maneuver. 
52

The Israeli Air Force was not the only beneficiary of the turning tide in 

the air and missile war:

On the west bank of the Suez Canal, an unusual example of mutual coordination emerged between the advance of ground-forces 

and the Israeli Air Force. As the armored forces on the west bank 

of the canal destroyed one surface-to-air missile battery after another, the Israeli Air Force gained a freer hand and became a major 

factor in supporting the advancing Israeli forces.32

In this example, which came after some initial successes by the Israeli Air 

Force that weakened the air defense umbrella, the ground forces directly 

supported then air superiority fight.

The relationship of air superiority to operational maneuver of heavy 

conventional forces is one of dependency. This was initially brought to 

light by Erwin Rommel from his experience against the Allies in North 

Africa. Rommel stated:

During the day, practically our entire traffic—on roads, tracks, 

and in open country—is pinned down by powerful fighter-bomber 

and bomber formations, with the result that the movement of our 

troops on the battlefield is almost completely paralyzed, while the 

enemy can maneuver freely.33

Future developments in equipment and doctrine are continuing to support this premise. With the arrival of the missile age, the battle for air superiority became a totally joint air-ground effort as illustrated in the 1973 

war. The electronic warfare impact on intelligence, protection, firepower, 

and leadership were enormous during the 1973 Mideast War. The impact 

was particularly important for Egyptian intelligence, due to the large influx of modern equipment:

The Soviets had reorganized the Egyptian intelligence system 

and had provided it with modern, sophisticated equipment for all 

forms of electronic warfare. Radio interception, electronic surveillance and locating equipment were all introduced and attained 

a satisfactory standard of operation . . . the Arabs also benefited 

from Soviet surveillance over Israel by means of electronic intelligence and satellites.34

This new equipment was instrumental in gaining an advantage over the 

Israelis. As the Egyptians trained and learned with this new equipment, 

they also improved their own doctrine.
53

As the capabilities of this equipment became understood, the Egyptians knew they would have to adjust their own doctrine to improve and 

better protect their force. Examples of this include employment of radar 

and variety of air defense systems employment ·techniques: “to prevent the 

Israelis acquiring the locations and number of air defense radars by electronic intelligence (ELINT), the radars deployed forward to cover the initial assault over the Suez Canal were kept silent until the assault began.”35

Examples of the air defense systems employment techniques included: use of different frequency bands which changed rapidly to minimize 

the effect of jamming; pulse; continuous wave and infrared homing radar 

to increase the difficulty of defeating both; and changes in radar positions 

to minimize the extent of Israeli ELINT.36 “Some of the radar tracking 

systems also had the ability to track optically so that operations could continue even in a high ECM environment.”37 The electro-optics option was a 

simple fix to the technological battle of electronic warfare. Unfortunately, 

there are limitations such as visibility and shorter ranges of electro-optics 

that decrease its effectiveness.

The impact of electronic warfare on the firepower dynamic of combat power during the 1973 war was also dramatic. The preponderance of 

SAMS was the most important. “Each of these weapons (SAMS) possessed different electronic guidance characteristics, which complicated 

the application of electronic countermeasures.”38 This electronic warfare 

advancement was specifically used to enhance the Egyptian air defense 

umbrella while degrading the Israeli air support. This led directly to the 

Israeli Air Force’s inability to support maneuver initially. The Egyptians 

capitalized on this and supported their initial attack by sound employment 

of SAMS. The Egyptian intent from the start was to cover their front line 

“in such a way that Israeli air intervention would have little or no effect 

on the initial stages of the attack, and would allow the Arab preponderance in artillery, troops, and armor to be concentrated fully at the point of 

attack.”39 This is a direct application of electronic enhanced firepower to 

support maneuver that was successful.

The impact on command and control was a race to integrate new technology. Lieutenant General Saad El Shazly, Egyptian Chief of Staff declared: “Our major innovations lay in training, technique, and determination; I was nevertheless constantly looking for any device that might help 

us.”40 The increased role of new technology as well as the development of 

training and techniques to improve combat capabilities is clearly evident 

from this example.
54

The major lessons learned with respect to electronic warfare in the 

1973 war were numerous. These include: the importance of missiles, the 

synergism between air defense and air superiority, the role electronic warfare plays in concentrating major forces, and the air-ground coordination 

required to win the air-superiority fight.

Electronic guidance systems and the tremendous number of SAMS 

the Egyptians were able to employ ushered in the complete arrival of the 

missile age. The importance of this will have effects on all future conflicts 

in air, land, and sea operations. This also points out the technological battle between opposing forces as each attempts to counter the effectiveness 

of their opponent’s weapons systems. The ranges of the missiles also increased significantly. The standoff capabilities of air, land, or sea based 

missiles increases the dependence on electronic means to provide early 

warning and tracking for destruction of these munitions prior to impact.

The link between air superiority and air defense was developed further. Ground based air defense systems are now more capable of directly 

influencing the air superiority battle than was ever imagined prior to this 

time. “The bulk of the Israeli losses (aircraft) were caused by missiles and 

conventional anti-aircraft fire, with honours roughly even between the two, 

particularly during close support missions.”41 This increasing effect of air 

defense systems requires a relook at the effect of air power in the future. 

The ability to gain air superiority will be degraded by the air defense systems and the pursuit of local air superiority will become more important.

The role electronic warfare plays in the ability to concentrate forces 

is extremely vital. The Egyptian plan to provide an electronic and air defense umbrella along its front lines is an excellent example. This umbrella 

helped them to move and to concentrate major forces while denying the 

Israelis the ability to observe. This provided the Egyptians with an opportunity to surprise the Israelis. The ability to protect concentrating forces at 

the point of attack is a key aspect of operational maneuver. The Egyptian 

success, though not used to launch a deep attack, is directly applicable to 

operational maneuver.

Air-ground cooperation to win the air superiority fight was also important. The Egyptians enjoyed success in the initial stages of the war because the umbrella was a combined air-ground effort. The Israeli response 

of aircraft was unsuccessful. After the Israelis recovered by upgrading 

their electronic countermeasures and coordinating closer with maneuver 

forces, the tide turned. The resultant air-ground coordination was effective 
55

against the Egyptian forces. Ground forces greatly assisted the fight for air 

superiority and the air forces assisted the maneuver of the ground forces.

Lessons from the 1982 Mideast War

The Bekaa Valley campaign in 1982 had a profound impact on the future of electronic warfare to support operational maneuver. The influence 

of air superiority and synchronized maneuver on the battle is important. 

The analysis will center on one day, 9 June 1982, during which electronic 

warfare played a prominent role. A general description of the events of 

that day follows:

Just an hour after the attack started, the defenders (Syria) knew 

they were in big trouble. It was June 1982, and Lebanon’s Bekaa 

Valley was a hornets nest of Soviet supplied surface-to-air missiles. They could, their Syrian operators thought, hurl up a lethal 

wall of firepower against any attacking aircraft. Instead, they hardly got off a shot. Radar seeking missiles honed in on 29 supposedly secret sites, blowing them away while gleeful Israeli officers 

sitting in situation rooms across the border watched the action on 

television. A masterstroke of warfare had left the skies controlled 

by the attackers, and Israel’s friends and enemies alike wondered 

how they’d done it.42

The results provided Israeli ground forces the freedom to maneuver to 

drive the Syrians out of the Bekaa Valley.

The Israeli preparations for the Bekaa Valley Campaign are key to 

understanding the results. Armed with the lessons of the 1973 war, the 

Israelis prepared for the next war. Their essential preparations included acquisition of new high technology equipment, extensive intelligence preparation of the battlefield, and the integration of battlefield requirements to 

win control of the electromagnetic spectrum.

Acquisition of new equipment kept Israel at the forward edge of technological development from 1973–1982. This new equipment included 

remote piloted vehicles (RPVs) that were used in surveillance, target designation, jamming, and monitoring roles.43

Another major acquisition was the EC-707 aircraft which can be configured for communications intelligence, electronic intelligence, and jamming roles.44 Anti-radiation and TV guided munitions both air and ground 

launched were particularly effective at attacking radar.45 Another important 

equipment upgrade was the state of the art electronic warfare equipment 

carried on Israeli aircraft. These include jammers, chaff/flare dispensers 
56

and threat warning systems.46 As shown, the Israelis were not going to be 

upstaged by not keeping abreast with technological advancements, especially in the realm of electronic warfare.

The Israeli intelligence preparation of the battlefield was a key to the 

successful operation. “They spent 12 months studying Syrian air defenses 

in the Bekaa Valley and along the Syrian/Lebanese border.”47 Information 

gained included electronic intelligence on SAM guidance radars, frequencies, and accurate locations of the majority of radar.48 This extensive effort 

was profitable for two reasons: Israeli technology and Syrian ineptness in 

employing the SAMS.

The Israeli emphasis on winning control of the electromagnetic spectrum was exceptional. This thorough preparation paid dividends on the 

afternoon of 9 June. The control and sequence of the operation indicates 

a tremendously synchronized operation that was executed flawlessly. The 

scale and coordination of effort for the raid were unparalleled in modern 

warfare. “The Bekaa missile raid was a textbook example of modern day 

electronic: warfare.”49

The Syrian preparation for the Bekaa Valley Campaign was a story of 

problems.The biggest problem, as with Egyptian use in the 1973 war, was 

the immobile layout of SAMS. “The Syrians used mobile missiles in a 

fixed configuration; they put the radars in the valley instead of the hills.”50

This enabled the Israelis to pinpoint their locations prior to the attack. The 

poor operational security of the Syrians made them susceptible to the vast 

Israeli collection efforts, most of which was electronic intelligence.

The Israeli operational plan to win the electronic warfare battle was 

an integrated concept from start to finish. First, RPVs were flown over the 

battlefield to stimulate the SAM radar sites. Following this, both RPVs 

and the EC-707 gathered information about the radars as they tracked the 

RPVs. Jamming began to blind the radars as well as the command and 

control nets. A coordinated attack occurred from air and ground launched 

anti-radiation missiles along with conventional artillery fires. Target assessment was accomplished by RPVs to include the first phase.51

The second phase followed as the Syrian Air Force began their defensive counter air operation. The Israelis jammed Syrian ground control radar and communications nets, preventing any coordinated attacks against 

the Israeli planes. The result was a loss of 24 aircraft on the Syrian side 

with no losses to the Israelis. Aerial dog fights continued the next day 

with similar results.52
57

Technology had enabled commanders to centralize control of the battle. As stated earlier, Israeli operations officers watched the Bekaa Valley 

raid on TV monitors. Though not much is written about the command and 

control of the operation, it is clear that it was a very high headquarters that 

provided the detailed plan and very centralized command:

The control and direction of such an operation, and the orchestration required for all elements involved, is highly complex, and 

thus despite the very sophistication of the equipment, the human 

element still remains a dominant one.53

The effect on operational maneuver by the electronic warfare dominated air battle was tremendous. “This new development (victory over 

the missiles) now enabled the Israeli forces to take advantage of Israel 

air power and to dominate the battle-field,”54 The Israeli Armored Forces 

were now able to maneuver under protection of the Israeli Air Force. BenGal’s corps broke through and was able to advance up the Bekaa Valley. 

The corps penetrated to the operational depth of the Syrian forces who 

committed their operational reserve, the Syrian 3rd Armored Division. 

The 3rd Armored Division was interdicted and became engaged directly 

by Ben-Gal’s corps on 11 June, when the Syrians agreed to a cease fire.55

The Israelis had maneuvered to a position that had afforded them the opportunity to destroy the Syrian force. In Jomini’s terms, they had reached 

the operational point of maneuver that motivated the Syrians to quit the 

field in the eastern area of operations.

The importance of the fight for air superiority and its relationship to 

operational maneuver were lessons learned from the 1973 war. The Israelis knew that they could concentrate forces under an air umbrella augmented by electronics. They also realized that the ability to maneuver large 

armored forces even in difficult terrain was dependent on air superiority. 

This knowledge was applied in the Bekaa Valley in 1982 to effectively 

conduct operational maneuver.

Electronic warfare had a marked impact on the 1982 war. The Israelis 

were able to gain real-time intelligence. Smart munitions and anti-radiation munitions contributed to firepower. Control of the air was coordinated 

by an advanced electronic warfare supported operation. This allowed armored forces to move freely and also protected them from Syrian maneuver. The exploitation of offensive electronic warfare paralyzed the Syrian 

command structure resulting in a loss of control and unresponsive actions 

to counter Israeli maneuver.
58

The use of drones gave Israeli commanders access to near realtime intelligence:

The field commanders benefited from almost instant intelligence, 

which facilitated their task of reaching immediate decisions. It 

is clear that the very effective development of reconnaissance 

drones, produced over recent years by Israeli industry, has played 

an important part in the success of battlefield intelligence.56

The use of electronic intelligence was important during both the intelligence preparation of the battlefield and during the Bekaa Valley operation. 

In both situations the Israelis gained such a relative advantage over the 

Syrians, that this played a significant role in their success.

The use of smart munitions and anti-radiation munitions enhanced the 

effect of firepower, as the batteries “were probably attacked with sophisticated air-launched ‘smart’ weapons. Such weapons are highly accurate 

and some can be launched from well beyond the reach of SAMS.”57 As 

noted in a July 1982 New Republic article:

These weapons are quite effective, but can be countered in part by 

turning off the radar. What the Israelis reportedly did was modify 

the guidance systems of these missiles so that even if the target 

radars are turned off, the missile will continue straight to the last 

source of radar pulses.58

The exploitation of the electromagnetic spectrum was effective in enhancing firepower as exemplified by the devastating effect of these munitions.

The protection required when moving heavy units around today’s lethal 

battlefield is an important requirement to support operational maneuver. 

Protection from opposing force maneuver is key and the Israeli Air Force 

accomplished this during the offensive maneuvers in the Bekaa Valley:

The Israeli Air Force was successful in interdicting and in preventing reinforcements from reaching the battlefield, as when a 

brigade of the Syrian 3rd Armored Division was caught in a narrow defile and badly mauled.59

The electronic warfare assets assisted in detecting this force and were the 

main reason air superiority over the Bekaa Valley could be maintained. 

The employment of offensive electronic warfare to disrupt Syrian 

command and control was highly successful: “Prior to and during the attack, the Syrians claim that their entire radar net was both decoyed and 

reconnoitered by RPVs and subject to extensive jamming generated by 

airborne Boeing 707 stand-off platforms, ground stations, and dedicated 

•
59

A-4 Skyhawk aircraft.”60 This paralyzed the Syrian command structure, 

which could offer no adequate response.

Another related effect on command and control was the result the 

Bekaa Valley attack had on the Syrian high command:

The destruction of this doctrinal theory, knocked the Syrian command off balance, as it was clear, as they threw air units desperately into battle, thus incurring additional heavy air losses that 

they were urgently seeking a reply to a situation for which they 

had not planned.61

The Syrian command lost the initiative midday on 9 June, and they were 

unable to recover it throughout the war. The shock that sent the Syrians 

reeling was reminiscent of the effect the blitzkrieg had on Germany’s Second World War opponents in 1939-1940.

Lessons learned in the 1982 Bekaa Valley Campaign are applicable 

to a wide range of electronic warfare, air superiority, and operational maneuver issues. The technological impact of electronic warfare is quickly 

changing employment concepts. The fight for the Bekaa Valley “was one 

between the complex technological systems, including the most modern 

and highly sophisticated air control and electronic communication equipment.”62 Acquiring new electronic warfare equipment and more importantly integrating improved operational concepts throughout the force occupies a critical role in the preparations for the next war.

Electronic warfare, when integrated with other warfighting systems, 

can be the decisive factor in enabling one to maneuver operationally. The 

success of the fight to defeat the SAMS and gain air superiority over the 

valley was the first step. After this, a combined air-ground operation actually carried out the maneuver, “the first move was to strike with heavy air 

attacks, the only major air action in nine days combined with artillery and 

armor.”63 This type of operation forced the Syrians to fight defensively and 

withdraw before they were destroyed.

The operational commander’s concept of operation must integrate electronic warfare. The entire operation on 9 June was dominated by the battle 

for the electromagnetic spectrum. This will not always be the most important factor in the future, but its potential effect cannot be downplayed. It 

seems evident from the 1982 war that if electronic warfare is not integrated 

into the concept of operation, the operational commander is inviting trouble.

The potential of unmanned vehicles in the future is limitless. The RPV’s 

capacity to be used as a platform for a wide range of capabilities is inviting. 
60

In addition to communications, intelligence, jamming, and radar decoy, the 

Israelis also used them as a weapons platform. “At least one SAM-8 was 

destroyed by a RPV configured with an ammunition payload.”64 The only 

limiting factor to employing RPVs seems to be lack of imagination.

The speed and lethality of modern combat was graphically illustrated 

over the Bekaa Valley. In less than an hour, the SAMS were destroyed. 

The fight for air superiority lasted less than two days. In 16 days the Israelis moved the Syrians to the northern entrance of the Bekaa Valley and 

destroyed significant aircraft, air defense systems and Syrian forces. The 

effect of this operational maneuver compelled the Syrians to make peace.

Conclusions: The Future Direction of Electronic Warfare 

to Enhance Operational Maneuver

Several conclusions that are critical to future large-scale combat operations can be drawn from experience in the mid-east wars. First, the battle 

for control of the electromagnetic spectrum must be won to effectively 

conduct operational maneuver. Second, military doctrine must keep pace 

with improving technologies. Third, near real-time intelligence increases 

the speed of the commander’s decision-making cycle. Technology is increasing the difficulty of effectively employing electronic warfare capabilities, and the risk of being caught short in electronic warfare capabilities 

can be decisive in future operations.

Coordination of the fight for control of the electromagnetic spectrum, 

air superiority, and operational maneuver are inseparable in the missile 

age. This has made air-ground cooperation an even more crucial link than 

in the past. Control of the electromagnetic spectrum which includes denial 

of the enemy’s free use of it, is critical to war now. Without control, our 

ability to gain air superiority for even limited periods of time is questionable. The side that wins the electronic warfare battle will possess advantages in the air superiority fight that will be nearly impossible to overcome.

Gaining air superiority is critical to maintaining the ability to execute 

operational maneuver. The ability to concentrate forces, maneuver forces 

freely, and adequately protect the force must be accomplished for successful operational maneuver to occur. Because air superiority depends 

on the ability to control the electromagnetic spectrum, these capabilities 

are interdependent.

The effectiveness of operational firepower depends in many ways on 

electronic warfare capabilities. Without effective offensive and defensive 

capabilities, the air force will be hard pressed to deliver operational fires. 
61

The increased dependence on electronically guided missiles also makes 

forces vulnerable. If these guided missiles are electronically defeated, numerous air, sea and ground launched long range missiles will contribute 

little to operational fires.

Protection of forces depends heavily on electronic warfare capabilities.The Egyptian umbrella in the 1973 war and the destruction of the 

Syrian umbrella in 1982 are perfect examples of the protection dynamic in 

war. The Egyptian defensive umbrella provided protection for their forces. 

As the umbrella was degraded, air support became the means of protection. In 1982, the Syrian air defense umbrella was quickly destroyed and 

Israeli air superiority again became the means of protection.

Operational leadership is becoming more and more dependent on 

intricate communications systems. Destruction of these means even for 

short periods of time could be critical. The effect one hour had on the Syrian high command on 9 June exemplifies this well. From this day forward, 

they were in a reactive mode and could not recover. Despite a fairly good 

showing at the tactical level, the Syrians could not regain the initiative 

operationally.

Military doctrine and operational concepts must keep pace with improving technologies. The risk of not doing this could be operational 

surprise.The emphasis in this area by the Russians can be seen in the 

following passage:

Hundreds of Russian experts and advisors rushed to Syria within 

days of the air battles, because once again as in 1969, in Egypt 

in the war of attrition, the system defending the Soviet empire 

had been tested by the Israeli Air Force and found wanting. The 

Soviets will inevitably provide a reply to Israel’s technological 

solutions, but the results of the air battles in the Bekaa Valley have 

given them much cause for concern.65

NATO, and the United States in particular, is as interested as the Russians. 

In future large-scale combat operations the cost of being upstaged by new 

technologies will be great. But it is not only the technology that provides 

input into the equation. Research and development cycles, and more importantly, training and preparation for employing new concepts are time 

consuming processes.

The impact of near real-time intelligence provided by electronic warfare has decreased the decision cycle in modern combat. This can have a 

dramatic effect on the speed of modern combat. Major General Doyle E. 

Larson in discussing one role of electronic warfare intelligence states: “The 
62

sensor information needed for C3CM [Command, Control, and Communications Countermeasures] execution must be available at the lowest level 

within 15 seconds of collection. This is a tough goal for us to reach, but one 

which is within our technological capability.”66

The technological impact is increasing the difficulty of effectively using electronic warfare capabilities. The cost of fielding this type of equipment is almost prohibitive. Budgetary constraints complicate the problem. 

The focus on physical destruction or “hard kill” weapons normally increases while “soft kill” electronic weapons take a back seat.67

The expertise necessary to operate and maintain new electronic warfare weapons is increasing. The impact on operational maneuver is tremendous. We must exploit the increasing capabilities of electronic warfare to 

successfully execute operational maneuver. The decisive effect of operational maneuver is within our grasp. A synchronized air-ground fight for 

control of the electromagnetic spectrum will be a major factor in the future.

Implications

Education of operational commanders is becoming more difficult due 

to the increasing complexity of electronic weaponry. Battle for control of 

the electronic spectrum has no service boundaries. It is truly a joint fight. 

The capabilities of each service must be understood to develop a coherent 

concept of operation or campaign plan. The many new electronic warfare 

capabilities in each service make attaining the required technical knowledge increasingly difficult.

The problem of developing new operational concepts for integrating 

electronic warfare into future doctrine is twofold. General William E. 

Depuy, with respect to the US Army, stated:

[They are] not yet comfortable with Electronic Warfare. The senior leaders have little firsthand experience and thus little confidence or skill in its use and tend to leave it, unintegrated, in 

the hands of specialists. The specialists, in turn, are faced with 

a tradition and structure of secrecy and compartmentalization—a 

hangover in part from the days of ULTRA.68

The ability to implement innovative uses of the technology is seen as limited to the “specialists” who are kept abreast of technological improvements. This is a dangerous situation that must be overcome.

Another implication related to electronic warfare is the mission command warfighting function enabling a commander to balance the art of 

command and the science of control in order to integrate the other war-
63

fighter functions. “There are real-time television monitors at division, 

corps, and territorial headquarters, which may indicate an inclination in 

the Israeli Army to centralize command at higher levels.”69 This could be 

critical to operational leadership in the future. Mission commands tends 

to lead initiative at lower levels of command. On the other hand, limited 

electronic warfare assets difficulty in employing them on the scale of the 

Israelis in the Bekaa Valley requires centralization.

The ability of mission command must be closely analyzed as future 

technological developments occur. The mission command issue and susceptibility to electronic warfare problem go hand in hand. Continual dependence on technology that increases centralization of command and 

control without regard to protective countermeasures would be disastrous. 

The balance is tenuous at best, and the opportunity for miscalculations is 

high, as history has so effectively demonstrated.

Electronic warfare is changing the environment of modern war. We 

must be prepared to adapt quickly as new technologies are developed. 

The electromagnetic spectrum is now as important as the air, land, and 

sea dimensions of battle. Control of this spectrum is essential to conduct 

effective operational maneuver. These case study examples of electronic 

warfare and the ever changing environment require further studies of our 

past to enable our large-scale combat operations in the future.
64

Notes

* Major David M. Rodriguez, “The Influence of Electronic Warfare on 

Operational Maneuver,” School of Advanced Military Studies Monograph, US 

Army Command and General Staff College, 22 May 1989.

1. Chris Bellamy, The Future of Land Warfare (New York: Croom Helm, 

1987), 31.

2. Department of the Army, Field Manual (FM) 3-0, Operations (Washington, DC: 2017), 12.

3. Baron De Jomini, The Art of War (Westport, CT: Praeger Publishers, 

1977), 88–89.

4. Jomini, 89.

5.. Jomini, 88.

6. Jomini, 88.

7. Jomini, 89.

8. Department of the Army, Field Manual (FM) 100-5, Operations

(Washington, DC: 1982), 12.

9. Department of the Army, FM 100-5, 12.

10. FM 100-5, 11.

11. FM 100-5, 13.

12. Department of the Army, Field Manual (FM) 34-1, Intelligence and 

Electronic Warfare Operations (Washington DC: 1987), 1-3.

13. David Bolton, editor, “The Challenge of Electronic Warfare.” Whitehall 

Paper No.1 (London: Her Majesty’s Stationary Office, 1986), 10.

14. Bolton, 13.

15. Bolton, 54.

16. Department of the Army, Field Manual (FM) 100-6, Large Unit 

Operations (Washington, DC: 1987), 3-12.

17. Department of the Army, FM 100-5, 54.

18. FM 100-5, 54.

19.. Department of the Army, FM 34-1, 1-3.

20. FM 34-1, 1-4.

21. Department of the Army, Field Manual (FM) 90-2, Tactical Deception (Washington, DC: 1978), 2-16.

22. FM 90-2, 2-16–2-17.

23. Department of the Army, FM 100-5, 54.

24. Chaim Herzog, The Arab-Israeli Wars (New York: Random House, 

1984), 227.

25. Lieutenant General Saad el Shazly, The Crossing of the Suez (San 

Francisco, CA: American Mideast Research, 1980), 13.

26. Herzog, The Arab-Israeli Wars, 227.

27. Shazly, The Crossing of the Suez, 21–22.

28. Shazly, 81.

29. Shazly, 15.

30. Bolton, The Whitehall Paper No. 1, 11.
65

31. Herzog, The Arab-Israeli War, 310.

32. Chaim Herzog, The War of Atonement (New York: Little Brown & 

Company, 1975), 274.

33. B.H. Liddell Hart, editor, The Rommel Papers (New York: Harcourt 

& Brace, 1953), 476–477.

34. Herzog, The War of Attonement, 274.

35. Bellamy, The Future of Land Warfare, 222–223.

36. Bellamy, 222–223.

37. Bellamy, 223.

38. Herzog, The Arab-Israeli Wars, 307.

39. Herzog, 307.

40. Shazly, The Crossing of the Suez, 76.

41. Herzog, The Arab-Israeli Wars, 311.

42. Jim Schefter, “Stealthy Robot Planes,” Popular Science, October 

1987, 64.

43. Martin Streetly, “The Israeli Experience: A Lesson in Electronic Air 

Combat,” Jane’s Defense Weekly, August 1985, 319.

44. Streetly, 316.

45. Streetly, 317.

46. Streetly, 317.

47. Bolton, Whitehall Paper No. 1, 11.

48. Bolton, 11.

49. Richard A. Gabriel, Operation Peace for Galilee (New York: Hill & 

Wang Publishers, 1984), 98.

50. Marshall Lee Miller, “The Soviet Air Force View of the Bekaa Valley Debacle,” Armed Forces Journal International, June 1987, 54.

51. Bolton, Whitehall Paper No. 1, 11.

52. Gabriel, Operation Peace for Galilee, 99.

53. Herzog, The Arab-Israeli Wars, 366.

54. Herzog, 348.

55. Herzog, 349.

56. Herzog, 364–365.

57. W. Seth Carus and Stephen P. Glick, “The Battle of Lebanon: The 

Aerial Assault,” The New Republic, July 1982, 16.

58. Carus and Glick, 16.

59. Herzog, The Arab-Israeli Wars, 366.

60. Streetly, “The Israeli Experience: A Lesson in Electronic Air Combat,” 317.

61. Herzog, The Arab-Israeli Wars, 365.

62. Herzog, 366.

63. Gabriel, Operation Peace for Galilee, 109.

64. Gabriel, 99.

65. Gabriel, 366.

66. Doyle E. Larson, “Controlling the Electromagnetic Spectrum,” The 

Marine Corps Gazette, October 1983, 49.

67. Bolton, Whitehall Paper No. 1, 35–36.
66

68.. Bellamy, The Future of Land Warfare, 240.

69. Gabriel, Operations for Galilee, 195.
67

Chapter 4

Firepower and Breakthrough in the Meuse-Argonne: 

1 November 1918

Lieutenant Colonel (USAF-Retired) Mark E. Grotelueschen

If we are to be economical with our men, we must be prodigal with 

guns and ammunition.1

—Major General Charles P. Summerall

Commanding General, V Corps

The first phase of the Meuse-Argonne campaign, which began on 26 

September 1918, was a demonstration of the modest initial success that 

could be achieved in a prepared large-scale assault. However, that offensive also clearly showed the problems and loss in efficiency that the attacking units experienced during subsequent assaults. Considering the tremendous strength of the German positions opposing his army, General John J. 

Pershing’s plans for his initial attack in the first phase of the offensive were 

exceptionally optimistic. The attack orders directed his forces to advance 

some 16 kilometers within two days and break through the enemy’s main 

line of resistance, the Kriemhilde Stellung of the Hindenburg line, at the 

far end of the deep two-day advance. While the attack on 26 September 

began well along much of the front, with the leading units of many divisions pushing forward as far as 7 kilometers on the first day, once the 

infantrymen advanced beyond the range of their supporting artillery the 

progress slowed, then stopped, and the casualties rose. In a few instances, 

most notably in the sector of the green 35th Division, over-extended and 

disorganized infantry battalions were unable to hold their advanced positions, and were thrown back by German counterattacks.2

 In every case, 

the attacking divisions soon proved unable to advance despite suffering 

serious losses in their efforts. Three divisions in the center of the line—

the 35th, 37th, and 79th—each had to be replaced after less than a week 

of fighting, but even then, the new divisions, including such experienced 

units as the 1st, 32nd, and 3rd, found progress slow, and the price high.3

Finally, on 14 October, after weeks of painfully slow, forward progress, 

the Army reached the initial objectives it had set for 27 September.4 While 

determined and skillful German resistance in terrifically challenging terrain explains much of the First Army’s difficulty, weaknesses with its own 

fire support effort also contributed.

The first phase of the First Army’s offensive in the Meuse-Argonne suffered from three major problems in its employment of artillery. First, plans 
68

called for the infantry to continue its initial attack all the way to distant objectives that were surely going to be beyond the range of the supporting artillery.5

 Pershing and his staff were clearly counting on their infantry being 

able to successfully carry those distant objectives with little or no artillery 

support. Second, the attacking corps and divisions attempted to make such 

a quick, deep penetration without using one of the most tactically decisive 

weapons of the German Army’s spring offensives—gas. Smothering the 

defending forces with tons of gases of all types was an integral part of 

each one of Germany’s spring offensives in 1918.6 Pershing also included 

a massive gas bombardment in his initial plan for the 26 September attack. 

Unfortunately, the American Expeditionary Forces (AEF) could not secure 

all the gas shells that it needed to fully carry out the plan. Additionally, the 

decision as to when, where, and how to use the gas that was available was 

left to the corps and division commanders. However, due to unfamiliarity 

with the weapon, these commanders had an almost inexplicable fear of 

enemy retaliation with gas—inexplicable because the commanders surely 

knew that the massive use of gas had become standard practice by the German Army in 1918. That fear, coupled in some inexperienced units with an 

inflated expectation of what the infantry could accomplish on its own, led 

many unit commanders to disregard Pershing’s ideas for employing gas.7

A third problem was that the army and corps artillery groups were not used 

to maximum effect in either counter-battery against the German guns, or in 

directly supporting the infantry advance with an additional rolling barrage. 

Due to the expectations of many high-ranking AEF officers that aggressive 

infantrymen would be able to make successful attacks without the support 

of heavy artillery, and the fear that the use of heavy guns in an infantry 

support role would lead to a rash of friendly fire incidents, the corps and 

army guns were prohibited from firing on positions close enough to the 

advancing infantry to be of any practical use to them.8

The Reorganization of First Army

However, from mid-October until the end of the month, the American First Army focused on preparing for its next massive assault, to take 

place on 1 November—an attack that would prove to be its final major 

offensive of the war. 

Lieutenant General Hunter Liggett, who replaced Pershing as commander of the First Army on 16 October, made changes tailored to solve 

the problems that had plagued the first two phases of the offensive. He 

also ensured that experienced units served to spearhead the attack, most 

notably, the 2nd Division, which had recently completed one of the most 

impressive offensive feats of the year when it seized Blanc Mont Ridge 
69

in early October while part of the French Fourth Army. By late October it 

was moving towards the front lines in the Meuse-Argonne, where it would 

join the 89th Division to form the V Corps.

Meanwhile, the 2nd Field Artillery (FA) Brigade, which had been supporting the 36th Division along the Aisne River, was finally recalled to rejoin the 2nd Division on 28 October, and it took up firing positions behind 

B

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Souilly Troyon-Sur-Meuse

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3 Nov

3 Oct

1 Nov

26 Sep

3 Oct

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VXVII XXX

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11 Nov

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The Meuse-Arg

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September–November 1918

0 5 10 15 20 Miles

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International Boundary

Elevation 200m

Elevation 300m

Elevation over 300m

Figure 4.1. Map of the Meuse-Argonne Offensive. Created by Army University Press.
70

its infantry brigades in the Meuse-Argonne sector two days later. By then 

plans for the attack on 1 November were almost finalized. Brigadier General Albert J. Bowley, the 2nd FA Brigade commander, left Colonel Joseph 

R. Davis from the 15th Field Artillery (FA) in command of the artillery 

brigade which was still with the 36th Division north of Blanc Mont, and 

had joined General Lejeune to aid him in the last stages of the planning 

effort.9

 As early as 25 October, the division had produced a “Tentative Plan 

of Attack,” and the infantry brigade, regimental, and battalion commanders were able to study the plan and reconnoiter the ground.10

General Liggett assigned the 2nd Division to Major General Charles 

P. Summerall’s V Corps which held the lines in the center of the American 

First Army. Unlike the previous attacks in this campaign, the plan of attack 

for 1 November did not call for all divisions in line to make as deep a penetration as possible. The V Corps was directed to make a 9-kilometer-deep 

penetration to seize the heights of Barricourt Ridge, while the other two 

corps, the I Corps on the left and the III Corps on the right, were to make 

supporting attacks only. The 2nd Division was to advance through two 

intermediate objectives, each followed by a-30 minute rest, before taking 

the final “First Day” objective. Subsequent attacks on following days by 

all three corps were to drive the enemy north of the Meuse River.

11

These plans, and 

the supporting artillery fire-plans, were 

developed in a series 

of conferences held at 

V Corps Headquarters 

which were attended 

by the corps and division commanders, 

their chiefs of staff, 

all chiefs of artillery, 

and the division machine-gun officers.12

While previous attacks 

often counted on the 

infantrymen to fight 

their way forward, 

this attack, more than 

any other large-scale Figure 4.2. Major General Charles P. Summerall. 

Photo courtesy of US Army Center of Military History.
71

AEF or 2nd Division attack of the war, put its faith in massive amounts of 

well-coordinated firepower. 

This was especially true in V Corps, where Summerall, an artilleryman and former artillery brigade commander, ordered that “fire superiority, rather than sheer man power be the driving force of the attack.”13 With 

the full support of General Liggett, army and corps planners addressed 

each of the three major artillery problems that had plagued the earlier 

phases of the campaign. First, the plans called for the supporting artillery 

to fully cover the attacking troops all the way through the first day’s final 

objectives. Of equal importance was the fact that all of the main lines of 

enemy resistance scheduled to be assaulted on the first day were within 

a few kilometers of the jump-off positions and were therefore well within range of all the supporting artillery.14 Second, unlike previous attacks, 

AEF artillery was to subject the enemy to a very heavy gas bombardment, 

in some places beginning as much as two days before the actual assault. 

The plan called for the use of gas, specifically persistent mustard gas, to 

systematically neutralize the large German artillery groups on each flank, 

so as to protect the main thrust of the V Corps from the crushing fire that 

had previously come from the enemy guns in those positions.15

Last, the heavy guns of the army and corps batteries were to be extensively involved in providing accompanying fire for the infantry. In 

previous attacks the use of heavy guns in the infantry support role had 

been confined to firing concentrations on known or “suspected” enemy 

positions, and always well ahead of the infantry they were supposed to 

be supporting. For the 1 November attack, Liggett removed this restriction and directed the “complete use of artillery.”16 His First Army planners 

therefore programmed the use of army and corps guns in an infantry support role, allowing them to fire their concentrations on a rolling barrage 

schedule that kept the fire always within 1,000 meters of the attacking 

infantry throughout their advance.17

The V Corps Fire Support Plan

In V Corps, Summerall divided the fire support plan into four periods: 

the time preceding the preliminary bombardment, the preliminary bombardment itself, the covering fire for the infantry’s initial assault, and the 

support of the infantry during “subsequent stages of the advance.” The 

first period covered several days and included the firing of gas, shrapnel, 

and high explosive shells by all calibers on “all enemy organizations, 

batteries, and routes of communication.” During this time, American gunners would fire short but intense artillery barrages from all guns two or 
72

three times a day, so that the defending German troops, who fully expected a continuation of the offensive, would not be sure when the real assault 

was starting and would be “trained” to respond more slowly when it did 

come. Additionally, AEF artillerymen would use this period to carry out 

a carefully scheduled and concealed registration of those artillery pieces 

already in their positions.18

The fire-plan called for the actual preliminary bombardment to last 

only two hours, but it was to be accomplished at the maximum rate of fire 

for each gun. According to the corps commander, the very short preparation was driven by the amount of available ammunition, “as ammunition 

could not be procured for a maximum rate of fire during a longer period,” 

and Summerall believed it “better to deliver fire at a maximum rate than to 

employ slow fire over a longer period.”19 This line of reasoning was right 

in step with much of the most current and effective artillery practices of 

war, such as the short German bombardments of the spring offensives and 

the “hurricane bombardments” of the British Expeditionary Force (BEF). 

As for targeting, batteries of 75-mm howitzers were to hit the enemy front 

lines and specifically identified German units. The 155s were to hit certain towns, woods, and all known and suspected machine-gun nests. Other 

corps and army guns were to neutralize enemy batteries.20 To add to the 

maelstrom, 255 machine guns would fire coordinated barrages into the 

German positions opposite the 2nd Division.21

One important innovation was made to this preparation. Some infantry attacks in previous phases of the offensive had been met immediately by heavy enemy machine-gun fire. Often this delayed the infantry’s 

advance so much that it caused them to lose contact with their rolling 

barrage. Research into the problem showed that German machine gunners 

had been noting the short limit of the artillery fire during the preparation and then moved into shell holes far enough into “No Man’s Land” 

to avoid the incoming shells. These troops were ready and waiting with 

their machine guns when the infantry assault finally came. To catch these 

forward machine gunners, prior to the initial infantry assault of 1 November, the gunners supporting the 2nd Division spent the last ten minutes 

of the preparatory bombardment firing a heavy standing barrage that was 

drawn back 200 yards from the previous short limit. During this barrage, 

the leading assault troops moved up as close to the standing barrage as 

possible, so that they could hit the first enemy positions within moments 

of the barrage’s first lift forward.22

After the start of the infantry attack the focus of nearly all the firepower in the corps was on covering the infantry attack. The rate of ad-
73

vance of the rolling barrage was tailored to match the type of terrain facing 

the infantry: 100 meters every four minutes on open ground, 100 meters 

every six minutes up steep slopes, and 100 meters every eight minutes 

through woods. Two batteries in each light battalion (75mm) were to shoot 

high explosive shells, and the third was to superimpose shrapnel fire on the 

whole battalion sector, firing 200 meters ahead of the batteries shooting the 

high explosive. Other guns were dedicated to fire smoke shells throughout 

the barrage. The 155s were directed to fire “a series of standing barrages, 

lifting as the infantry advances so as to fall at least 500 meters beyond the 

rolling barrage.”23 Following each infantry objective the rolling barrage 

was to halt, and the 155s were to shoot “heavy concentrations” on “all 

enemy organizations” within 2 kilometers of the new front line. Batteries 

of eight-inch howitzers were designated to further intensify this accompanying fire by adding another layer to the barrage, 500 meters ahead of the 

155s, when the barrage rolled through certain strong points and wooded 

areas. The order made it clear that those army and corps guns not assigned 

specific counter-battery missions were to continue supporting the infantry 

advance all the way through the third and final objective of the first day.

24

To accomplish this massive fire-plan, the 2nd Division received more 

artillery augmentation than in any previous attack. In addition to its own 

guns, it would have the support of two other divisional artillery brigades, 

the 1st FA Brigade of the 1st Division and the 67th FA Brigade of the 42nd 

Division (a total addition of four 75-mm regiments and two 155-mm regiments). The 2nd Division also received the dedicated support of 2 batteries 

of 8-inch howitzers and 3 batteries of 105-mm guns, and would share with 

the 82nd Division to their right some 17 batteries of 155-mm howitzers 

and 21 batteries of 155-mm guns from the corps and army artillery groups. 

All told, the infantrymen of the 2nd Division would be supported by more 

than 300 guns and howitzers.25

Command of the three brigades of divisional artillery was given to the 

ranking artillery commander, General George G. Gatley from the 67th FA 

Brigade. However, more than with any other attack by the 2nd Division, 

the plans issued by the Corps Chief of Artillery, in this case Brigadier General Dwight E. Aultman, had carefully scripted all artillery actions, even 

to the point of detailing exactly when each divisional artillery battalion 

would displace forward and to what position it was to move. Two hours 

after the infantry began their attack, the 2nd FA Brigade was to begin its 

movement forward by echelon, one battalion advancing at a time. The forward batteries were then to pick up the barrage, or otherwise support the 

infantry attack, after the first objective was reached. While exact forward 
74

positions were listed in the plan, the guiding principal was that “batteries 

were to be pushed as far forward as the tactical situation permits.” The 

plan also directed that “previous to ‘D’ day,” the 67th FA Brigade was to 

take up positions “as far advanced as compatible with conservation of the 

material and replenishment of ammunition,” so that it would be sure to 

have the capability of firing the entire barrage without advancing.26 In fact, 

General Gatley procured enough of the long distance 1917 Model “D” 

shell to enable both the 67th and 1st FA Brigades to fire the barrage all the 

way through the final objective without having to advance their batteries.27

The divisional plan also had an additional measure of flexibility in its 

rolling barrage, which was inserted to limit the damage that would result 

from one of the more common problems in previous American attacks. 

The attack order stated that “should the infantry at any time be unable to 

keep up with the barrage, the barrage may be recalled to some well established line, to rest there until the infantry lines are adjusted.”28 This was, of 

course, easier to write into an attack order than to accomplish in the midst 

of an attack that was, by definition, not going well, but it does represent an 

important attempt to solve an all too common problem.

As at the AEF’s previous offensive at St. Mihiel, the corps instructions 

called for accompanying guns to be used in the attack. Aultman directed 

that “batteries or single guns will be detailed, after consultation with Division and Infantry Brigade Commanders, to accompany the advance of 

the infantry, for the purpose of firing on Machine Gun nests.”29 In this 

regard, the divisional plan specified that one battalion each from the 12th 

and 15th FA Regiments were “to be prepared to move forward for close 

support of the infantry as soon as the advance of the infantry warranted 

it.”30 However, just as at St. Mihiel, the leadership of the 2nd Division 

had no intention of breaking up these battalions and assigning the pieces 

directly to individual infantry battalions. While still subject to requests 

for fire from any infantry unit, these battalions were to remain assigned to 

and under the control of their respective artillery battalion, regimental and 

brigade commanders.31

All told, it was the most comprehensive firepower employment plan 

that the 2nd Division, or any other AEF division, had ever seen. Everything was in place well in advance of the jump-off time, which was set 

for 0530 on 1 November. During the artillery preparation, which began 

promptly at 0330, all the guns assigned to the corps opened up on their 

German targets, namely batteries and those infantry positions that were 

able to deliver fire upon American infantry at their starting positions. 

Eighty gas projectors also fired lethal chemicals on known machine-gun 
75

nests, observation posts, and suspected enemy machine-gun positions in 

no-man’s land. Ten minutes before H hour (the designated time to start), 

the standing barrage was put down in front of the German forward positions, as was a thick smoke screen to hide the American infantry moving 

up to the barrage. At 0530 the barrage rolled forward, and the attacking 

infantry battalions of the 2nd Division began their advance, assisted by 

one company of 15 tanks.32

The Attack

Three regiments moved forward simultaneously, with the leading battalions of the 6th Marine, 5th Marine, and 23rd Infantry Regiments covering the 4-kilometer-wide divisional front. The 9th Regiment advanced in 

support. Reports from across the front agree that the first German positions 

“did not offer a great deal of resistance.” On the right, the 23rd Regiment 

“followed the barrage closely,” cleared out the enemy strong points in the 

Bois de Hazois, and reached the first objective at the scheduled time.33 At 

this point the divisional front narrowed, and the 23rd Regiment moved 

to the left and took a support position behind the two Marine regiments. 

After the 30 minute rest at the first objective, the Marines continued the 

advance, meeting only slight enemy resistance, and taking “one objective 

after another on scheduled time.” At the third and final objective the Marines consolidated their positions and sent patrols forward to the “exploitation line.”34 The 9th and 23rd Regiments dug in behind them for the night. 

The first day’s attack was an unequivocal success; the division had 

broken through the enemy’s main line of resistance, advanced 9 kilometers, and had suffered light casualties.35 It was another well-executed setpiece attack, like the 1st Division’s assault of Cantigny in May, the 2nd 

Division’s seizure of Vaux in July, and the initial phase of the First Army’s 

attack on the St. Mihiel salient in September. On 1 November, the 2nd 

Division took all of its assigned objectives without any serious difficulties. 

Strategically, the division had achieved one of the main objectives of the 

campaign, as the German Army’s critically important Metz-Sedan railroad 

line had been brought within range of heavy artillery fire. Regarding the 

one-day advance of his division, Lejeune proudly claimed that it fundamentally changed the remainder of the offensive. For the Germans, the 

attack changed their defensive plan from one of “stubborn resistance, in 

a prepared position, to one of a series of holding engagements.”36 For the 

Americans, the operation changed “from that of a prepared attack, with 

a defined objective, to one of exploitation of a success already gained.”37
76

For the second time in less than a month, the artillery had proven 

itself more than equal to the tasks assigned it in the initial attack. The 

infantry was even more impressed with the artillery support of the 1 November assault than they were for the support of the first attack at Blanc 

Mont. The acting commander of the 3rd Brigade, Colonel Robert O. Van 

Horn, claimed that the preliminary preparation “was the most intense and 

best executed of any preceding any attack of the brigade [sic].”38 Brigadier General Wendell C. Neville, commanding the 4th Brigade, credited 

the “thorough” preparation with causing the withdrawal of a portion of 

the German forces.39 The counter-battery effort also appears to have been 

successful, as some reports stated that the German artillery response was 

“weak” or “light,” and others did not even deem it worthy of mention.40

As for the artillery fire accompanying the assault, a commander in the 

3rd Brigade claimed that the “resistance of the enemy was shattered by the 

intensity and rapidity of the barrage fire” and that it was “most effective.” 

Colonel Stone of the 23rd Infantry Regiment reported that “the initial attack was marked by a brilliant coordination of arms, the artillery laying 

down an absolutely smothering barrage which the infantry followed closely. . . . Attention must again be called to the wonderful work of our artillery in the first fighting. Our troops have never advanced behind a more 

perfect barrage.”41 These reports are confirmed by the commander of the 

tank company that accompanied the initial assault. Captain C. H. Barnard 

reported that when his tanks advanced at “H” hour, they found that “the 

artillery work had been so thorough that there was very little wire to be cut 

and practically no machine gun resistance except for an isolated gun here 

and there which they destroyed.”42

The 2nd FA Brigade also appears to have been very successful in moving forward during the initial attack. As early as 0745, General Bowley 

reported to the corps headquarters that his first batteries were moving forward “as per the schedule.”43 By 1230, the advance battalions were in 

forward positions firing the rolling barrage, and the other light battalions 

had been in motion for hours. The first battalion of 155s was on the road 

forward at 1000, and the other two were advancing before 1700. Every 

gun in the brigade was therefore in a forward position in time to guard 

the day’s gains throughout the first night. While the 1st FA Brigade also 

moved forward that evening, the 2nd Division did lose the support of the 

67th FA Brigade, as that brigade was returned to its parent division.44 This 

meant that by the beginning of the first night of the offensive, the division 

had already lost one third of its divisional artillery strength.
77

On the night of 1 November, V Corps ordered the 2nd Division to prepare to change directions and advance due west, in order to make a flank 

attack on the German forces opposing the American division on its left. 

However, early the next morning the corps changed its mind and directed 

the division to continue advancing to the north. Due to these changes in orders, the division made no advance until that night.45 After passing through 

the 4th Brigade, the 3rd Brigade formed its regiments in one long column 

of twos, with advance and flank guards, and made a bold advance under 

cover of darkness and rain some 3 kilometers to the “exploitation line” 

given in the first day’s orders. The night march took the regiments through 

the Bois de Folie, which was still laced with German soldiers performing 

a rear-guard mission. By 0600, 3 November, the brigade was on its objective and was ready to continue the attack. Six hours later it had advanced 

another 4 kilometers, and found itself facing a German defensive position 

that was supported by artillery and Minenwerfers (trench mortars), at the 

south edge of the Bois de Belval.46

Although the supporting batteries from Colonel Davis’s 15th FA had 

just moved to more advanced positions that day, the 3rd Brigade had no 

trouble arranging for fire to be brought on the German positions. Colonel 

Van Horn reported that the supporting guns from the 15th FA “shot up the 

resistance with good effectiveness.”47 After blasting the edge of the woods, 

the artillery fired a rolling barrage of sorts that advanced along a road 

Figure 4.3. US Army 108th Field Artillery in action during the Meuse-Argonne 

campaign, October–November 1918. Photo courtesy of US Army Center of 

Military History.
78

through the woods, concentrating its fire to cover just 200 yards on each 

side of the road. That evening the 9th and 23rd Regiments again formed 

into columns of two and followed an advance guard through the woods, 

advancing some 6 kilometers that night. By midnight on 3 November, 

the leading elements of the division were some 8 kilometers ahead of the 

divisions on their flanks. The success of the night march also proved the 

disorganization rampant in the forward German units at that time. Whole 

groups of German officers and soldiers were captured while sitting in welllit farm houses, or while asleep in the woods, all totally unaware of the 

depth of the American advance.48

Finally, on the morning of 4 November, the Germans were able to 

piece together a strong line of resistance with well-organized machine-gun 

nests, 2 kilometers south of the town of Beaumont. When Colonel James 

C. Rhea, the new commander of the 3rd Brigade, realized his forces were 

up against a formidable enemy position, on difficult ground, with both 

flanks exposed, he reported the situation to General Lejeune, who ordered 

the brigade to continue the advance. Rhea claimed that he had just one battalion from the 15th FA in position to support the attack. While the attack 

succeeded in breaking the German line and in continuing the advance for 

about a kilometer, Rhea said it was only accomplished “at the expense of 

heavy casualties, the losses being in the neighborhood of 1,000 casualties, 

with a high percentage killed.”49

Why was there so little artillery support available for this particular attack? The division was in its fourth day of continuous operations, 

during which it had by this time advanced more than 20 kilometers. The 

division was straining its logistical elements to the limit, and the constant 

rain made that strain much worse. Rhea stated that the roads in his sector 

“were at first almost impassable, and after November 3rd were entirely 

impassable.”50 The artillery, and all of its ammunition, had to make its 

way forward either cross-country or by using the congested roads in other 

divisional sectors. A divisional inspector reported that all roads in the 2nd 

Division’s sector were “axle deep in mud,” and that he had personally witnessed a team of “22 horses hitched to one gun and they could just move 

it in the mud.”51

A second factor contributing to the lack of artillery support was that 

on 4 November the 4th Brigade moved out of its support role to advance 

into the divisional sector not covered by the 3rd Brigade’s night marches. 

Therefore, the Marine brigade was using the batteries of Lieutenant Colonel John A. Holabird’s 12th FA to support that movement.52 The 1st FA 

Brigade had been returned to its parent division that day as well, which 
79

meant that while the leading infantry battalions for the 1 November attack 

had the dedicated support of more than three whole artillery brigades, just 

three days later the assaulting infantry units were reduced to scraping together as many guns as they could get from their one supporting regiment 

of light guns and half of the 17th FA.

To make matters worse, division inspectors had reported to the Inspector General of the AEF, and through him to Major General Summerall, that 

the 2nd Division did not properly employ “accompanying guns” during the 

initial assault, as per the corps order. Pressured to rectify this irregularity, 

General Lejeune ordered that as of 3 November, accompanying artillery 

was to be detailed to the infantry, with two guns going to each battalion in 

the front line.53 Therefore, those guns were probably not available to the 

regimental artillery commander at a time when he was called on to provide 

the greatest possible concentration of fire. 

On 4 and 5 November, both infantry brigades pressed towards the 

Meuse River, and the German forces opposing them fought rear-guard 

actions to enable the greatest number of German troops and materiel to 

get behind their new line of resistance across the river. From 6 to 10 November, the infantry brigades improved their positions on the west bank 

of the Meuse, all the while being subjected to heavy German artillery fire 

from across the river. The artillery brigade also established gun positions 

in preparation for supporting an eventual crossing of the river.54

Finally, late on 9 November, General Lejeune complied with corps directives and ordered his troops to cross the Meuse in two places on the following night. General Neville was ordered to command a crossing force 

composed of troops from two V Corps divisions, the 2nd and 89th Divisions. Neville requested that the orders be changed to allow for a daytime 

crossing at just one location, since he was convinced of the strength of the 

German positions on the east bank and because he had “little artillery with 

which to support even one crossing.” The requests were denied.55 The 12th 

FA and four batteries of the 17th FA were to support the northern crossing 

near Mouzon, which was thought of as the main effort. The 15th FA, along 

with the other two batteries of 155s, were assigned to the southern crossing near Letanne. The crossings were attempted at 2130, preceded by an 

hour-long artillery preparation. At Mouzon, the responding German fire 

was so strong that the engineers and infantrymen could not even get the 

temporary bridges across. At Letanne, the German gunners were slower in 

identifying the crossing point and three battalions from the two attacking 

divisions were able to fight their way across the foot bridges and establish 

positions east of the river. However, the casualties sustained in these “sur-
80

prise” attacks were heavy; General Summerall even called them “excessive.”56 Within hours of the crossing the armistice took effect, and the war 

was over. The 2nd FA Brigade had fired its last shell of the war.57

The attack of the 2nd Division in the third phase of the Meuse-Argonne 

campaign was viewed by many in the AEF as being the most successful 

American attack of the entire war. In eleven days it advanced some 29 kilometers, captured more than 1,700 prisoners and 105 artillery pieces, and 

suffered 3,299 casualties.58 However, just as with the previous offensives, 

an operational analysis demonstrates that the division, the V Corps, and 

the First Army, showed both its strengths and its weaknesses at different 

parts of the campaign.

There can be no doubt that the preliminary bombardment was effective, as noted above. The decision to pull back the barrage for the last 

ten minutes of the preparation demonstrated an ability to adapt to the 

changing tactics of the enemy, and may have been an important measure 

of the success of the initial assault.59 Another factor crucial to the success 

of the attack was the use of massive quantities of gas in the preparatory bombardment to neutralize both German batteries and infantry strong 

points. Rexmond Cochrane, in his analysis on the American use of gas in 

the Meuse-Argonne, asserted that “the gas plan for the final assault [on 1 

November] was the best that could have been devised, and it succeeded 

exactly as planned.”60

Despite these achievements, probably the most significant innovation 

made in the final attack was the massive, overpowering rolling barrage that 

incorporated both heavy and light artillery throughout its execution. While 

the 2nd Division, and the AEF in general, had previously used heavy guns 

to fire in concentrations in advance of the 75-mm rolling barrage, the goal of 

that fire had always been to “soften-up” known or suspected obstacles that 

the infantry was eventually going to meet. The attack on 1 November was 

the first to incorporate the heavy guns into a comprehensive infantry support fire-plan that had as its goal the neutralization of “only those positions 

from which fire could be delivered upon our infantry at that moment.”61 The 

use of this “thick” barrage was the result of a victory by those in the AEF 

who were convinced that, regardless of what General Pershing thought the 

infantryman could accomplish with just his rifle and bayonet, “the assault 

battalions must be covered by artillery and machine gun fire in all stages of 

the advance.”62 The results achieved by the 2nd Division and the entire V 

Corps on 1 November attest to the effectiveness of that principle. 
81

Of course, covering the infantry attack with fire was much easier to 

arrange on the first day of the attack, and the 2nd Division proved the 

necessity for overwhelming fire-power again in the later stages of the attack by demonstrating the costs of not being able to provide it. Just as at 

Blanc Mont in early October, the number of guns assigned to the division became smaller and smaller as the attack progressed. When situations 

arose in which the attacking infantry needed strong, concentrated artillery 

support, as occurred with the 3rd Brigade on 4 November and to the 4th 

Marine Brigade in its attempt to cross the Meuse, the divisional artillery 

brigade was often unable to provide adequate support on its own. This 

insufficient artillery support was not caused solely by a reduction in available firepower, but also by the compression in the amount of time allowed 

to properly prepare and coordinate the firepower that was assigned. For the 

Meuse crossings, senior officers in the division attempted to secure the use 

of allied aircraft to get updated photographs of the new German defenses 

so that the fire-plan for the attack would adequately suppress enemy fire. 

Colonel Dan Moore, who replaced Bowley as commander of the artillery 

brigade, asserted that “if photos had been available for the preparation of 

the attack for the crossing of the Meuse, a much more intelligent bombardment of the enemy’s machine gun and battery positions might have 

been undertaken, and the crossing probably would have been a success at 

Mouzon.”63 The lack of time and resources available to adequately support 

infantry attacks in the “exploitation” phase were factors that caused the 

2nd Division trouble throughout the war. 

The use of “accompanying guns” was one innovative attempt to provide artillery support to the infantry attacking in the “exploitation” phase. 

However, when General Aultman, the Chief of Artillery for V Corps, reported that the 2nd Division could only make “little use” of its accompanying guns and that “they were of no value to the artillery” during the period 

they were parceled out to the infantry, it was an all too common description 

of the use of accompanying guns by American units.64 Clearly, Lejeune and 

Bowley shared a dislike for accompanying guns and were convinced that 

despite the problems of attempting to employ masses of artillery after the 

initial assault, it was better to maintain a system that enabled the possibility 

of concentrating a “more effective volume of fire . . . on any point desired” 

than to break up the guns and hope that they would be used to provide 

some support at critical points in the attack.65 Colonel Moore, Bowley’s replacement, closed his operations report for the Meuse-Argonne campaign 

by asserting that attacking divisions get the “best results from artillery by 

placing artillery support in the hands of the artillery regiment and battal-
82

ion commanders, who follow the advance closely and solve the problems 

of enemy resistance through direct liaison with the infantry.”66 However, 

keeping all the guns “close” and the liaison “direct” was easier said than 

done, and the division never fully met either challenge.

The infantry regiments of the 2nd Division made much better use of 

a different innovation to reduce their susceptibility to enemy firepower 

in the “exploitation” phase of the attack. The night marches were clearly 

an attempt by the attacking infantry to continue to make aggressive advances in the midst of the enemy, without having to measure their own 

firepower against that of the enemy. It was a brilliant and bold tactic, and 

each maneuver surely saved many lives and much hard fighting. However, 

it is also clear that such a tactic would have been suicidal just one month 

earlier had it been tried at Blanc Mont, or just about anywhere else on the 

Western Front. From 3 November on, the German forces in the Meuse-Argonne were disorganized and frantically attempting to withdraw to a position east of the river, and that is what allowed the night marches to be such 

a success.67 It is important to realize that even though the German forces 

were in the midst of a rather disorganized withdrawal, they still were able 

on two occasions to confront the advancing forces of the 2nd Division and 

inflict heavy casualties on them.

Nevertheless, the German forces that were hurled back some 9 kilometers during the initial assault on 1 November were, while tired and depleted, 

neither disorganized nor seriously considering a withdrawal. Those forces 

were resoundingly defeated by a 2nd Division force that proved, once again, 

that it could deliver an extremely effective set-piece attack. It was only in 

the later stages of the “exploitation” that the 2nd Division showed that it still 

was battling the troubles caused by a doctrine that was ill-suited to its area 

of expertise. Even at the end of the war, Pershing’s query from 8 August 

was still very pertinent to AEF operations in the “exploitation” phase of 

any attack--perhaps they were still “losing too many men,” and perhaps the 

doctrine Pershing relied on deserved a share of the blame.68

In its three final attacks, at St. Mihiel, Blanc Mont, and the Meuse-Argonne, the 2nd Division positively demonstrated what it had given strong 

hints of at Vaux and Soissons—that it could execute limited, set-piece attacks with great success. It succeeded against determined defenders who 

were in strong defensive positions, and did so without suffering excessive 

casualties. It even proved capable of successfully executing these attacks 

despite being given insufficient time to prepare (e.g. at Blanc Mont) and 

having the divisions on its flanks make unimpressive supporting advances 
83

(e.g. Blanc Mont and Meuse-Argonne). What also emerged, most notably 

in the final two offensives, was a desire on the part of the senior divisional 

officers to break from official AEF doctrine and fight for limited objectives 

by maximizing the use of artillery. On the negative side, the division struggled to make successful attacks after the initial assault. Though the division 

may have been inclined to hold its new lines and make preparations for additional artillery-centered, set-piece attacks, the French and American high 

commands each compelled it to press ahead. These follow-on attacks nearly always led to excessive casualties, while yielding unimpressive gains.

Conclusion

What are the lessons to be gained from this case-study of large-scale 

combat operations waged a hundred years ago? First, combat doctrine, and 

the operational plans based on it, must match the capabilities of the units 

that will have to conduct the operations. Whether there are, as General 

Pershing believed, unchanging “essential principles of war” or not, a mismatch between unit capabilities and official doctrine can be disastrous.69

However, when operational plans properly consider the actual capabilities of the combat units that are expected to carry out the attacks, even 

relatively inexperienced units—and in the fall of 1918, nearly all AEF 

units were relatively inexperienced by modern standards—can achieve 

remarkable results. Second, unit commanders, at all levels, must be willing to innovate and adapt in order to succeed on the modern battlefield, 

even if that means choosing what works best over doctrinal orthodoxy. 

Third, despite the desire to keep the pressure on the enemy and drive 

forward until his forces collapse, sometimes it may be wiser to pause and 

allow one’s own forces to regroup. 

During his time as First Army commander, General Pershing attempted to push the enemy to the breaking point by conducting three weeks of 

nearly non-stop attacks. By mid-October, his forces were bloodied, worn 

out, disorganized, and unable to conduct large-scale combat operations 

efficiently. While the defending Germans were hard-pressed, the frontline American forces lacked the power to conduct even attritional warfare 

effectively, much less force a breakthrough. Lieutenant General Liggett 

wisely chose to stop these inefficient attacks and give his forces time to 

refit and reorganize. The remarkable success of the First Army’s attack on 

1 November shows that Liggett chose wisely, and that certain AEF units, 

such as the 2nd Division and the V Corps, had learned how to succeed on 

the modern battlefield.
84

Notes

1. Major General Charles P. Summerall, “Comments by the Corps Commander upon the Operations of the Fifth Army Corps,” in V Corps Historical 

File, Entry 1118, RG 120, NA.

2. This chapter includes excerpts from Mark E. Grotelueschen, Doctrine 

Under Trial: American Artillery Employment in World War I (Westport, CT: 

Greenwood Press, 2001). For a detailed study on the case of the 35th Division, 

see Robert Ferrell, Collapse at Meuse-Argonne: The Failure of the Missouri-Kansas Division (Columbia, MO: University of Missouri Press, 2004).

3. Of the initial nine divisions that attacked on 26 September, three had 

to replaced within the first week, and four lasted just eight days. Casualties 

for these divisions were: 35th: 6,006 in six days; 91st: 4,768 in eight days, 

37th: 3,060 in five days, 79th: 3,529 in five days. American Battle Monuments 

Commission, American Armies and Battlefields in Europe (Washington, DC: US 

GPO, 1992), 327–28. 

4. David F. Trask, The AEF and Coalition Warmaking, (Lawrence, KS: 

University Press of Kansas, 1993), 122–23, 149.

5. Allan R. Millett, The General (Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1975), 

399.

6. The German Army used gas extensively in the 1918 spring offensives to 

neutralize both enemy infantry and artillery. In the Chemin des Dames offensive, 

50 percent of the three million artillery rounds fired on the first day were gas 

rounds. See David T. Zabecki, The German 1918 Offensives: A Case Study in 

The Operational Level of War (Routledge, 2006).

7. “The failure to use gas in the Argonne and on the 5th Corps front in the 

opening assault were therefore major blunders,” according to Rexmond Cochrane, The Use of Gas in the Meuse-Argonne Campaign, September-November 

1918, Study #10, US Army Chemical Corps Historical Studies: Gas Warfare 

in World War I (Army Chemical Center, Maryland, 1958), 90. While Cochrane 

asserted that there was no sign of any shortage of gas shells for the First Army, 

Colonel Conrad Lanza, the Chief of Operations for the First Army Artillery 

during the campaign, claimed that plans to use great quantities of gas shell “had 

to be abandoned due to the fact that nothing like the amount of gas shell asked 

for could be had.” See Conrad H. Lanza, The Army Artillery, First Army (United 

States, s.n., no date), ii. This undated typescript unit history was commissioned 

by the War Department, and is held at the U.S. Army Military History Institute, 

Carlisle Barracks, PA. The testimony of General Charles P. Summerall, a division and corps commander in the campaign, supports Lanza’s claim. He stated 

that “the Corps was at all times anxious to fire large quantities of non-persistent 

gas and the amount of gas so fired was only limited by the supply that could be 

obtained.” See Major General Charles P. Summerall, “Comments by the Corps 

Commander upon the Operations of the Fifth Army Corps,” 4, V Corps Historical File, Entry 1118, RG 120 NA.
85

8. Conrad H. Lanza, “The Artillery Support of the Infantry in the A.E.F” 

Field Artillery Journal (January–March, 1936): 70–71. 

9. “Report of Operations During the Period Nov. 1st to Nov. 11th,” HQ 2nd 

FA Brigade, 26 December 1918, Folder 15, 2nd Division files, G-3 Reports, 

AEF/GHQ, Entry 270, RG 120, NA; Lieutenant William D. Bickham and Major 

William Burr, “Second Field Artillery Brigade History,” 22, undated typescript, 

2nd FA Brigade Historical File, Entry 1246-11.4, RG 120, NA. 

10. The division received the first drafts of the First Army and V Corps 

plans on 24 October, Oliver Spaulding and John W. Wright, The Second Division: American Expeditionary Force in France, 1917–1919 (New York: The 

Hillman Press, 1937), 198; “Report of Operations, 3rd Brigade from October 17, 

1918 to 2nd Nov, 1918,” Folder 50, 2nd Division files, G-3 Reports, AEF/GHQ, 

Entry 270, RG 120, NA.

11. Field Orders No. 88, First Army, AEF, 27 October, 1918, in Department 

of the Army, United States Army in the World War 9 (Washington, DC: GPO, 

1948), 333–49 (hereafter USAWW).

12. Major General Charles P. Summerall lecture, “Recent Operations from 

the Standpoint of Employment of Artillery with Particular Reference to Co-operation between the Infantry and the Artillery,” 5, to the ACAS, on 16 December 

1918, in Folder 14, ACAS Files, Entry 371, RG 120, NA.

13. Field Order No. 101, V Corps, 28 October, 1918, in US Army, 2nd Division, Records of the Second Division (Regular) 1 (Washington DC: Army War 

College, 1924), (hereafter RSD).

14. The farthest main line of resistance (south of the Meuse) for the Germans 

was the Freya Stellung, which was within 6 kilometers of the 2nd Division’s 

jump-off position and as close as 4 kilometers to the 89th Division’s front lines.

15. Cochrane, The Use of Gas, 4.

16. Lanza, “Artillery Support,” 75.

17. Lanza, 75.

18. Major General Charles P. Summerall lecture, “Recent Operations from 

the Standpoint of Employment of Artillery with Particular Reference to Co-operation between the Infantry and the Artillery,” 1-2, to the ACAS, on 16 December 

1918, in Folder 14, ACAS Files, Entry 371, RG 120, NA. 

19. See Summerall lecture, “Recent Operations from the Standpoint of 

Employment of Artillery with Particular Reference to Co-operation between the 

Infantry and the Artillery,” 1–2, to the ACAS, on 16 December 1918, in Folder 

14, ACAS Files, Entry 371, RG 120, NA.

20. Operations Order No. 5, “Plan of Attack,” Artillery HQ, V Corps, 29 

October, 1918, V Corps Historical File, Entry 1118, RG 120, NA. 

21. This number comes from General Lejeune. How many machines guns 

were involved throughout the whole of V Corps front is not known. John A. Lejeune, The Reminiscences of a Marine (Philadelphia, PA: Dorrance, 1930), 384. 

22. Spaulding and Wright, The Second Division, 199–200.

23. Operations Order No. 5, “Plan of Attack,” Artillery HQ, V Corps, 29 

October 1918, V Corps Historical File, Entry 1118, RG 120, NA.
86

24. Operations Order No. 5, “Plan of Attack,” Artillery HQ, V Corps, 29 

October, 1918, V Corps Historical File, Entry 1118, RG 120, NA.

25. Summerall stated that the 2nd Division had 236 divisional guns, the 

89th Division had 208 guns, and that they shared 152 corps guns, including the 

dedicated army groups that were put under corps direction. This was spread on 

an eight kilometer front, giving the corps an artillery density of one 75-mm gun 

for each 29 meters, a 155-mm or 8 howitzer for every 39 meters, and a 105-mm 

or 155-mm gun for every 69 meters of front. The division also had a battery (12) 

of six-inch Newton Mortars, and a number of gas projectors. Memo, Summerall 

to Deputy Chief of Staff, AEF, 5 January 1919, V Corps Historical File, Entry 

1118, RG 120, NA; Operations Order No. 5, “Plan of Attack,” Artillery HQ, V 

Corps, 29 October, 1918, V Corps Historical File, Entry 1118, RG 120, NA.

26. Operations Order No. 5, “Plan of Attack,” Artillery HQ, V Corps, 29 

October, 1918, V Corps Historical File, Entry 1118, RG 120, NA.

27. Spaulding and Wright, The Second Division, 200.

28. Field Order No. 49, HQ the 2nd Division, 0700, 31 October 1918, 2nd 

Division Historical File, Entry 1241-32.1, RG 120, NA.

29. Operations Order No. 5, “Plan of Attack,” Artillery HQ, V Corps, 29 

October, 1918, V Corps Historical File, Entry 1118, RG 120, NA.

30. “Report of Operations, 2nd FA Brigade,” Folder 15, 2nd Division files, 

G-3 Reports, AEF/GHQ, Entry 270, RG 120, NA.

31. “Report of Operations, 2nd FA Brigade,” Folder 15, 2nd Division files, 

G-3 Reports, AEF/GHQ, Entry 270, RG 120, NA.

32. Each battery in the first battalion of the 12th FA fired 400 rounds at 

enemy strong points and forward positions. “Report on advance of 1st Btn, 12 

FA, Nov. 1,” Folder 9, 2nd Division files, G-3 Reports, AEF/GHQ, Entry 270, 

RG 120, NA; Summerall lecture, “Recent Operations from the Standpoint of 

Employment of Artillery with Particular Reference to Co-operation between the 

Infantry and the Artillery,” 1–2, to the ACAS, on 16 December 1918, in Folder 

14, ACAS Files, Entry 371, RG 120, NA; “Report of Operations from Sept. 26th 

to Nov. 8th, 1918,” HQ V Corps-Artillery, 14 November, 1918, V Corps Historical File, Entry 1118, RG 120, NA; Memo, “Projected Use of Gas Troops,” 

26 October 1918, 2d Battalion, First Gas Regiment, to V Corps Commander, 

Folder 14, 2nd Division files, G-3 Reports, AEF/GHQ, Entry 270, RG 120, NA; 

Spaulding and Wright, The Second Division, 200.

33. “Report of Operations, 3rd Brigade from 17 Oct. 1918 to 2 Nov. 1918,” 

Folder 50, 2nd Division files, G-3 Reports, AEF/GHQ, Entry 270, RG 120, NA.

34. “Operations Report, 4th Brigade, Marines, 24 Oct.–11 Nov.,” Folder 87, 

2nd Division files, G-3 Reports, AEF/GHQ, Entry 270, RG 120, NA.

35. General Neville, whose Marine battalions served as the assault troops for 

all three first day objectives, estimated that his brigade suffered casualties of just 

five percent of the forces engaged on that day. Lejeune reported that “the prisoners 

taken exceeded the losses sustained on that day.” “Operations Report, 4th Brigade, 

Marines, 24 Oct.–11 Nov.,” Folder 87, 2nd Division files, G-3 Reports, AEF/

GHQ, Entry 270, RG 120, NA; “Report of Operations, 3rd Brigade from Oct. 17, 
87

1918 to 2 Nov. 1918,” Folder 50, 2nd Division files, G-3 Reports, AEF/GHQ, 

Entry 270, RG 120, NA; “Operations Report of the 2d Division,” RSD, vol. 1. 

36. “Operations Report of the 2d Division.”

37. “Operations Report of the 2d Division.”

38. “Report of Operations, 3rd Brigade from Oct. 17, 1918 to 2 Nov. 1918,” 

Folder 50, 2nd Division files, G-3 Reports, AEF/GHQ, Entry 270, RG 120, NA.

39. “Operations Report, 4th Brigade, Marines, 24 Oct.–11 Nov.,” Folder 87, 

2nd Division files, G-3 Reports, AEF/GHQ, Entry 270, RG 120, NA.

40. No unit in the 3rd Brigade even mentioned German artillery fire during 

this attack. “Records of Telephone Messages Sent and Received, Nov. 1st to 

Nov. 11th, inclusive,” V Corps Historical File, Entry 1118, RG 120, NA; “Operations Report, 4th Brigade, Marines, 24 Oct.–11 Nov,” Folder 87, 2nd Division 

files, G-3 Reports, AEF/GHQ, Entry 270, RG 120, NA.

41. “Report of Operations,” 3rd Brigade, Nov. 2–11 and “Report of Operations, Nov. 1–11, 23d Infantry,” 27 November 1918, found in “Report of Units 

of 2nd Division, Meuse-Argonne Offensive, No. 1-11, 1918,” Folder 15, 2nd 

Division files, G-3 Reports, AEF/GHQ, Entry 270, RG 120, NA.

42. Of the 15 tanks that started with the 2nd Division, only six reached even 

the first objective. The rest either broke down, or were “hung up” in tank traps, 

ditches, or deep shell holes. The 4th Brigade said they were “ably supported by 

the tanks” while the 23rd Infantry claimed that the “tanks failed to keep up and 

were of little assistance.” See “Report of Operations, 1st Provisional Tank Company, 1st Brigade Tanks,” 1 November 1918, in 2nd Division Historical Files, 

Entry 1241-33.0, RG 120, NA; “Operations Report, 4th Brigade, Marines, 24 

Oct.–11 Nov,” Folder 87, 2nd Division files, G-3 Reports, AEF/GHQ, Entry 270, 

RG 120, NA; “Report of Operations, Nov. 1–11, 23d Infantry,” 27 November 

1918, found in “Report of Units of 2nd Division, Meuse-Argonne Offensive, No. 

1-11, 1918,” Folder 15, 2nd Division files, G-3 Reports, AEF/GHQ, Entry 270, 

RG 120, NA.

43. “Records of Telephone Messages Sent and Received, Nov. 1st to Nov. 

11th, inclusive,” V Corps Historical File, Entry 1118, RG 120, NA.

44. “Records of Telephone Messages Sent and Received, Nov. 1st to Nov. 11th 

inclusive,” V Corps Historical File, Entry 1118, RG 120, NA; “Report of Operations during the Period Nov. 1st to Nov. 11th,” HQ 2d FA Brigade, Dec. 26, 1918, 

Folder 15, 2nd Division files, G-3 Reports, AEF/GHQ, Entry 270, RG 120, NA.

45. “Operations Report,” 2nd Division, RSD, vol. 1.

46. “Report of Operations,” 3rd Brigade, Nov. 2–11, in “Report of Units 

of 2nd Division, Meuse-Argonne Offensive, No. 1-11, 1918,” Folder 15, 2nd 

Division files, G-3 Reports, AEF/GHQ, Entry 270, RG 120, NA; Spaulding and 

Wright, The Second Division, 208, 210.

47. One battalion from the 17th FA had been assigned to the 15th FA for 

advanced operations on this day and took part in the shelling of the German positions in the woods. “Report of Operations, Nov. 1–11, 9th Infantry Regiment,” 

29 November 1918, Folder 15, 2nd Division files, G-3 Reports, AEF/GHQ, 

Entry 270, RG 120, NA; Spaulding and Wright, The Second Division, 208–09.
88

48. “Report of Operations,” 3rd Brigade, Nov. 2–11, in “Report of Units 

of 2nd Division, Meuse-Argonne Offensive, No. 1-11, 1918,” Folder 15, 2nd 

Division files, G-3 Reports, AEF/GHQ, Entry 270, RG 120, NA; “Operations 

Report,” 2d Division, RSD, vol. 1.

49. “Report of Operations,” 3rd Brigade, Nov. 2–11, in “Report of Units 

of 2nd Division, Meuse-Argonne Offensive, No. 1-11, 1918,” Folder 15, 2nd 

Division files, G-3 Reports, AEF/GHQ, Entry 270, RG 120, NA.

50. “Report of Operations,” 3rd Brigade, Nov. 2–11, in “Report of Units 

of 2nd Division, Meuse-Argonne Offensive, No. 1-11, 1918,” Folder 15, 2nd 

Division files, G-3 Reports, AEF/GHQ, Entry 270, RG 120, NA.

51. “Report of Operations,” 3rd Brigade, Nov. 2–11, in “Report of Units 

of 2nd Division, Meuse-Argonne Offensive, No. 1-11, 1918,” Folder 15, 2nd 

Division files, G-3 Reports, AEF/GHQ, Entry 270, RG 120, NA; Report of 14 

November 1918, in Inspection Reports of Armies, Divisions and Corps, Entry 

590, RG 120, NA.

52. “Operations Report, 4th Brigade, Marines, 24 Oct.–11 Nov,” Folder 87, 

2nd Division files, G-3 Reports, AEF/GHQ, Entry 270, RG 120, NA.

53. “Report of Operations from Sept. 26th to Nov. 8th, 1918,” HQ V 

Corps-Artillery, 14 November, 1918, V Corps Historical File, Entry 1118, RG 

120, NA; Report of Colonel J. C. Johnson, Inspector General, “Operations and 

Conditions, 2d and 89th Divisions, V Corps, 1–3 Nov. 1918,” and Memo, Major 

General A. W. Brewster, AEF Inspector General to V Corps Commander, subject: 

“Use of Artillery 2nd Division,” both in Artillery folder, Entry 590, RG 120, NA.

54. “Report of Operations during the Period Nov. 1st to Nov. 11th,” HQ 2d 

FA Brigade, Dec. 26, 1918, Folder 15, 2nd Division files, G-3 Reports, AEF/

GHQ, Entry 270, RG 120, NA; “Report of Operations,” 3rd Brigade, Nov. 

2–11, in “Report of Units of 2nd Division, Meuse-Argonne Offensive, No. 1-11, 

1918,” Folder 15, 2nd Division files, G-3 Reports, AEF/GHQ, Entry 270, RG 

120, NA; “Operations Report, 4th Brigade, Marines, 24 Oct.–11 Nov,” Folder 

87, 2nd Division files, G-3 Reports, AEF/GHQ, Entry 270, RG 120, NA.

55. “Operations Report,” 2d Division, RSD, vol. 1; “Operations Report, 4th 

Brigade, Marines, 24 Oct.–11 Nov,” Folder 87, 2nd Division files, G-3 Reports, 

AEF/GHQ, Entry 270, RG 120, NA; Spaulding and Wright, The Second Division, 219–20. 

56. Memo, Summerall to Deputy Chief of Staff, AEF, 5 January 1919, 6, V 

Corps Historical File, Entry 1118, RG 120, NA.

57. “Operations Report, 4th Brigade, Marines, 24 Oct. –11 Nov,” Folder 87, 

2nd Division files, G-3 Reports, AEF/GHQ, Entry 270, RG 120, NA; Spaulding 

and Wright, The Second Division, 219–20. 

58. Again, the ABMC total for casualties is slightly lower, 3282; the figure 

in the text is taken from the report of 2nd Division Commander (Major General 

John A. Lejeune), to Assistant Chief of Staff, G-3, GHQ, AEF, Subject: “Operations Information,” 30 December 1918, in Reports and Other Records Regarding 

the History of AEF Units, Divisional Skeleton Histories, Entry 443, RG 120, NA.
89

59. The US 80th Division, on the left flank of the 2nd Division on 1 November, was stopped immediately by machine guns that had slipped beyond the 

artillery preparation and rolling barrage. The division inspector who investigated 

the poor first day showing of that division reported that they should have done 

just what their neighbors to the right did. Memo for Inspector General, AEF, 

titled “Observations with 1st and 5th Corps,” 8 November 1918, in “Inspection 

Reports of Armies, Divisions, and Corps,” Entry 590, RG 120, NA. 

60. Cochrane, The Use of Gas, 91.

61. Summerall, “Recent Operations from the Standpoint of Employment of 

Artillery with Particular Reference to Co-operation between the Infantry and the 

Artillery,” lecture to the ACAS on 16 December 1918 in Folder 14, ACAS Files, 

Entry 371, RG 120, NA, 2–4.

62. Summerall, 2–4.

63. Colonel Moore replaced General Bowley on 3 November, as the latter 

was promoted to be the Chief of Artillery for VI Corps; “Report of Operations 

during the Period Nov. 1st to Nov. 11th,” HQ 2d FA Brigade, 26 December 1918, 

Folder 15, 2nd Division files, G-3 Reports, AEF/GHQ, Entry 270, RG 120, NA.

64. General Lejeune said much the same thing when he asserted that “no 

material advantage was gained” by his employment of accompanying guns. He 

was convinced that “more satisfactory results are obtained when all of the artillery remains under the control of the Artillery Commander and the 37mm. and 

Stokes mortars are used to best advantage by the infantry.” Memo for Inspector 

General (IG), AEF, 8 November 1918, subject: “Observations with First and 

Fifth Corps with respect to Artillery in recent operations,” Entry 590, RG 120, 

NA; “Report of Operations,” “Report of Operations from Sept. 26th to Nov. 

8th, 1918,” HQ V Corps-Artillery, 14 November 1918, V Corps Historical File, 

Entry 1118, RG 120, NA. 

65. General Bowley told an Inspector General official that he “did not 

believe in this use of accompanying guns.” Report of Colonel J. C. Johnson, 

Inspector General, “Operations and Conditions, 2d and 89th Divisions, V Corps, 

1–3 Nov. 1918,” and Memo, Major General A. W. Brewster, AEF Inspector 

General to V Corps Commander, subject: “Use of Artillery 2nd Division,” both 

in Artillery folder, Entry 590, RG 120, NA.

66. “Report of Operations during the Period Nov. 1st to Nov. 11th,” HQ 

2d FA Brigade, 26 December 1918, Folder 15, 2nd Division files, G-3 Reports, 

AEF/GHQ, Entry 270, RG 120, NA.

67. Spaulding and Wright, The Second Division, 210.

68. Pershing is quoted in James W. Rainey, “Ambivalent Warfare: The Tactical Doctrine of the AEF in World War I,” Parameters, Journal of the US Army 

War College, September 1983, 41.

69. Pershing issued official documents during the war stating that “the essential principles of war have not changed,” and that “the fundamental principles 

governing the conduct of fire for field artillery remain essentially unchanged.” 

See USAWW, 3: 316–17, 326. 
 
91

Chapter 5

The Division Artillery: Linking Strategy to Tactics in 

Operations Desert Shield/Storm

Major Lincoln R. Ward

In 2016, with his initial message to the force, Chief of Staff of the 

Army General Mark Milley established readiness as the top priority for 

the US Army. Within the field artillery branch, the implication was how 

to achieve the highest level of readiness, while also preparing for ground 

combat against a near peer competitor. Additionally, the deterioration of 

the field artillery in the 12 years of persistent low-intensity conflict created 

a sense of urgency within the Army that spawned the reestablishment of 

the division artillery. 

This chapter will identify how the division artillery can achieve the 

Chief of Staff’s strategic guidance, specifically the objective of readiness 

“through the arrangement of tactical actions in time, space, and purpose.”1

Operations Desert Shield and Storm, show the evolution of doctrine, organization, and employment of field artillery against a near peer competitor. The conduct of these operations demonstrated several of the tenets of 

unified land operations, which “describes the Army’s approach to generating and applying combat power in campaigns and operations.”2

 Specifically, the elements displayed were flexibility, lethality, adaptability, and 

synchronization. The division artillery acts as an operational artist, while 

within modularity, there is no advocate for ensuring that subordinate field 

artillery units are getting the manning, training, and employment that prepares them for future conflict.

In April 2014, the Army re-established the division artillery, a brigade 

level field artillery headquarters. Its stated mission, not yet codified in doctrine but outlined in a Fires Center of Excellence white paper, is to “fight 

fires for the division” and to “provide training certification standardization 

of all field artillery units in the division.”3

 This is further outlined in the US 

Forces Command (FORSCOM) Division Artillery implementation order 

addressing declining proficiency levels, the ability to mass and synchronize 

since the advent of modularity in 2003, and the decline of artillery skills as 

a result of “in lieu of” missions in support of the Global War on Terror.4

 In 

2015, the Army suspended the phased reestablishment of the division artillery. This decision has caused uncertainty and confusion about the role of 

the division artillery. Research findings and historical context demonstrate 
92

that the role of the division artillery will continue to be the link connecting 

the Chief of Staff of the Army’s strategic guidance to tactical action.5

Division Artillery’s Role in Large-Scale Combat Operations

In draft US Army doctrine, the role of the division artillery is to facilitate the training, manning, and equipping of field artillery battalions, as 

well as ensure the professional development of field artillery Soldiers and 

leaders.6

 In future conflict, specifically in large-scale combat operations 

against a near peer adversary, the division artillery will be vital in synchronizing and delivering accurate and timely fires.

Historical case studies illustrate the role and effectiveness of division 

artilleries in both large-scale combat operations and as a part of stability 

operations. Operation Desert Shield and Operation Desert Storm provide 

an invaluable case study in the train up, organization, and employment of 

fires in support of large-scale combat operations. An analysis of the AirLand Battle doctrine used during these two operations is also integrated 

with the case study. This framework shows how the division artillery can 

take the strategic guidance from the Chief of Staff of the Army and translate the guidance to tactical action, improving readiness and effectively 

preparing for future combat operations. 

The historical case studies also demonstrate the evolution of doctrine, 

organization, and employment of field artillery against a near peer competitor. This is the framework in which General Milley has framed his 

strategic guidance to the Army to be prepared for ground combat with a 

near peer competitor.7 The Battles of Operation Desert Shield and Storm 

demonstrated several of the tenets of unified land operations, which “describes the Army’s approach to generating and applying combat power 

in campaigns and operations.”8

 Specifically, the elements displayed were 

flexibility, lethality, adaptability, and synchronization. Flexibility is defined as employment of a versatile mix of capabilities, formations, and 

equipment for conducting operations.9 The employment of field artillery 

in Operation Desert Storm displayed lethality, which in this context “is 

the capacity for physical destruction, which is fundamental to all other 

military capabilities.”10 Adaptability in this case refers to “a willingness 

to accept prudent risk in unfamiliar or rapidly changing situations, and an 

ability to adjust based on continuous assessment.”11 Finally, both operations displayed synchronization or “the arrangement of military actions in 

time, space, and purpose to produce maximum relative combat power at a 

decisive place and time.”12
93

A review of current trends is necessary to tie the historical case study 

to the current state of the field artillery. Current refers to that time since the 

beginning of operations in Afghanistan, the 2003 invasion of Iraq, and the 

advent of the modular Brigade Combat Team in 2003.13 The deterioration 

of the field artillery in the 12 years of persistent low intensity conflict between 2004 and the present has created a sense of urgency within the Army 

that spawned the reestablishment of the division artillery as a brigade level 

headquarters. The conclusion and recommendations will demonstrate how 

The Liberation of Kuwait

The Allied Ground Attack

24–28 February 1991 0 25 50 Miles

XX

US 24

XX

UK 1

XX

US 1

US 1 CAV

XX

XX

SY 9

III

US 3

XX

FR 6

XX

SA 82

XX

US Y 24

TA

52

26

45

10

ME

ALF

ADN

 Iran Samawah











Basra

An Nasiriyah

Nisab

Kuwait

City

Hafar-al-Batin

Iraq

Saudi Arabia

Kuwait

XVIII

XXXX

VII

282000 FEB

260800 FEB

282000 FEB

282000 FEB

250800 FEB

G-Day 24 Feb

H-Hr 0400

As Salman

Tallil

Jalibah

Republic Guard Division

ADN Adnan

ALF Al Faw

HA Hammurabi

ME Medina

NEB Nebuchadnezzer

Average Republican Guard Division

Strength on G-Day: 68%

Iraqi Divisions in KTC: 41

USAF Assets

F-15 C/D 120

F-15E 48

F-16 249

F-117A 45

F-111 E/F 84

B-52G 80

A-10A 144

EF-111A 18

F-4G 48

RF-4C 18

E-8A 2

Tankers 302

USN/USMC Air

F-14 100

F/A-18 172

A-6E 115

A-7E 24

EA-6B 41

S-3 50

AV-8B 60

OV-10 24

Tankers 24

Major Allied Air Forces

Saudi Arabia 165

United Kingdom 82

France 66

Canada 29

COALITION Strength

620,000

37 Nations

COALITION Naval Forces

United States Greece

United Kingdom Italy

Argentina Kuwait

Australia Netherlands

Belgium Norway

Canada Poland

Denmark Portugal

France Spain

International Boundary

Road

Oilfield

Airfield

Al Jaber

101

XX

US Y

AO EAGLE

FOB VIPER

FOB COBRA

XX

EG

NEB

HA

12

XX

US 3

XX

US 1

III

US 2

X

KU

XX

SA 2

XX

GCC

260800 FEB XX

Marines US 1

XX

X US 2

SA 2

N

Figure 5.1 Operation Desert Shield/Desert Storm. Map courtesy of US Military 

Academy, West Point/created by Army University Press.
94

the division artillery will achieve the Chief of Staff’s strategic guidance, 

specifically the objective of readiness “through the arrangement of tactical 

actions in time, space, and purpose.”14 The division artillery is the operational artist, whereas within modularity, there is no advocate for ensuring 

that subordinate field artillery units are getting the manning, training, and 

employment that prepares them for future conflict.15

Analysis of the role of artillery during Operations Desert Shield and 

Desert Storm is separated into three sections. The analysis highlights 

the preparation for deployment, the use of artillery in preparation for the 

ground offensive, and finally for the attack of Iraq itself. Each phase is examined in terms of the elements of operational art, unified land operations, 

and the AirLand Battle doctrine. Using this context demonstrates how the 

division artillery headquarters conducted operational art. This case study 

is being used for several reasons: to examine the successful employment 

of field artillery against a near peer competitor, to identify the factors that 

enabled the linking of tactical actions to operational and strategic objectives, and to pull forward best practices for how to best train, prepare, and 

employ field artillery in the future.

Training and Organizing for Desert Shield/Desert Storm 

Operation Desert Shield, the preparation and buildup of forces in the 

Saudi Arabian desert, followed by Operation Desert Storm, which began 

with the offensive into Iraq, were the result of the August 1990 Iraqi invasion of its southern neighbor Kuwait. At the time, Iraq had the fourth largest military in the world, numbering over one million men. Its organization 

and doctrine reflected its ties to the British Empire as well as with its main 

supplier of arms, Russia, and was formed into seven corps-sized elements, 

with four of the corps oriented to the south, toward Saudi Arabia and in 

Kuwait.16 Each mechanized corps not only had a robust armored force, but 

also contained a substantial indirect fire capability. Each corps contained 

a brigade of artillery, numbering between 70 and 140 medium artillery 

pieces. The overall numerical artillery advantage was exacerbated by the 

generally overall greater ranges possessed by the Iraqi artillery systems.17

Overall strength of direct support artillery was some 3,300 pieces along 

with some 300 more longer ranging multiple launch rocket systems. Complicating matters was the capability for the Iraqi army to employ chemical 

munitions with its artillery assets.18

The threat of the use of chemical weapons and the large number of 

Iraqi artillery drove training and emphasized the importance of US artillery. Across the deploying force, division artilleries led training of all 
95

subordinate artillery battalions, which created a familiarity between the 

subordinate units and facilitated interoperability within the units. Firing, 

logistical, and communications operations were all standardized within the 

subordinate artillery units within a given division artillery.19 By standardizing operations, subordinate artillery units would later be able to provide 

flexible support to any of the maneuver units based on the enemy threat or 

friendly mission. For maneuver commanders, the level of support could 

be counted on, regardless of artillery unit. This, in effect, reduced some of 

the fog and friction that Clausewitz famously points out happens in war.

20

One example to indicate commonality across the force stems from 

the 3rd Armored Division Artillery, who would later help spearhead the 

VII Corps attack into Iraq. By focusing on command post exercises with 

its subordinate battalions, it was able to create a shared understanding of 

the processes and procedures needed to provide accurate and timely fires 

in support of the division. The division artillery commander noted that 

the “training exercises proved highly invaluable in getting all available 

artillery assigned to the force field artillery headquarters working together 

prior to deployment.”21 The common training and familiarity greatly aided 

in employment the of the division artillery which was “responsible for 

recommending the fires organization for combat and positioning all units 

organic to, assigned to, and supporting the maneuver force commander.”22

This would prove fortuitous once operations began in facilitating flexibility, mass, and tempo that led to the overwhelming success of US forces. This training can arguably be traced back to the way of thinking seen 

in Brigadier General Leslie McNair as a division artillery commander in 

1937, and guidance from McNair as Army Ground Forces commander in 

1943. Almost 50 years later, the doctrine had become firmly ingrained.

The first tenet of unified land operations that was met during the division artillery training and preparation for deployment was flexibility.23 This 

common understanding and familiarity enabled commanders at each level 

to tailor their force, specifically field artillery units, to achieve the mission, 

weight the main effort, and have the confidence that they would receive 

the lethal effects to face a severely reduced enemy. This flexibility, which 

could be translated to the AirLand Battle imperative of agility, was defined 

as “the ability of friendly forces to act faster than the enemy, [which] is the 

first prerequisite for seizing and holding the initiative. Such greater quickness permits the rapid concentration of friendly strength against enemy 

vulnerabilities.”24 Achieving the AirLand Battle imperatives would have 

been considered critical considering the nature of the enemy that coalition 

forces were preparing to face during Operation Desert Shield. 
96

Preparations

As the overall war plans developed, the US Army portion of the coalition would attack with two corps abreast, conducting a flanking maneuver on the Iraqi defenses into Iraq.25 Additionally, a corps sized coalition 

led by the First Marine Expeditionary Force (1MEF) was to attack into 

Kuwait itself.26 To reduce the Iraqi forces and mitigate some of the risk 

of being overmatched by sheer numbers of armored forces and artillery, 

the coalition waged an extensive air campaign. The air campaign was extremely effective at reducing and demoralizing Iraqi forces and engaging 

strategically important targets deep within Iraq. Artillery, along with rotary wing support, was used for setting the conditions for the close fight, 

specifically the initial breach of the Iraq border defensive belt. An effective 

tactic used to prepare for the ground offensive was the artillery raid. Overall, the organization, training, and finally the execution would demonstrate 

that the division artillery was the level of command that would link strategy to tactical action. 

Artillery raids were employed to reduce enemy artillery, mitigating 

the threat of both conventional and chemical munitions. Each division 

artillery demonstrated its proficiency prior to the invasion by facilitating 

the numerous artillery raid operations along the Iraq international border. 

The artillery raid involved sending artillery units forward, into range of 

their known targets and massing fires. Prior to execution, the division 

artillery facilitated these raids by deconflicting airspace with Army aviation and other air assets. In order to prevent being engaged by enemy 

artillery, US artillery would displace after every barrage was fired. Division artillery radar and dedicated firing units stood by, ready detect to 

engage Iraqi artillery counter-fire. These artillery raids had devastating 

effects on the enemy, one report stating that 97 of 100 howitzers within 

an Iraqi division had been destroyed by massed fires.27 On 13 February, the 1st Cavalry Division Artillery massed an entire attached multiple 

launch rocket system battalion, destroying 24 Iraqi targets with more 

than 300 rockets, all in less than five minutes.28

The tremendous effects of this tactic would not have been possible 

without the organization of the artillery within the division artillery. As 

outlined previously, the fires force headquarters, doctrinally, had the responsibility for ensuring the training and readiness of all artillery organizations as well as “recommending the fires organization for combat and 

positioning all units organic to, assigned to, and supporting the maneuver 

force commander.”29 The effectiveness of the artillery raid is also indicative of extending operational reach prior to conducting the ground offen-
97

sive.”30 To achieve the desired surprise with the artillery raid, a significant amount of synchronization was required. The division artillery set 

the conditions for successful artillery raids through standardized training. 

During planning and execution, the division artillery managed the movement, observation, target observation and sustainment capabilities of the 

subordinate battalions.

Additionally, by reducing the enemy forces prior to the invasion, the 

tactical actions facilitated the attainment of an operational level decisive 

point.31 In this case, Army Central planners had “assumed that the proper 

level of attrition was roughly 50 percent of the Iraqi armor and artillery, 

including 90 percent of the tanks and guns at the breach sites.”32 Thus, 

the critical factor was the destruction of enemy forces prior to commencing the ground offensive. Prior to the invasion, the 3rd Army intelligence 

cell assessed that 53 percent of Iraqi artillery and 42 percent of the Iraqi 

armor had been lost.33

Finally, the artillery raids demonstrated phasing and transitions. This 

usually “involves a change of mission, task organization, or rules of engagement. Phasing helps in planning and controlling and may be indicated 

by time, distance, terrain or an event.”34 In this case, artillery units disFigure 5.2. 1st Battalion, 9th Field Artillery conducting fire mission in Iraq, February 1991. Photo courtesy of Lieutenant Colonel Bill Pitts.
98

played their flexibility as they transitioned between massing fires on Iraqi 

forces prior to the ground offensive to providing direct support to maneuver units. The ability to organize quickly into a mobile artillery task force, 

maneuver within range of enemy targets, synchronize massed artillery fire 

to destroy the enemy, and quickly return to the supported maneuver formation is a testament to the collective training, communication, and standardization prior to deploying. 

The artillery raids conducted by coalition forces prior to the ground 

attack exemplify the AirLand Battle Doctrine during Operations Desert 

Shield and Storm. Specifically, when planning for or conducting offensive operations “firepower exploits maneuver by neutralizing the enemy’s 

tactical forces and destroying his ability and will to fight. Firepower may 

also be used independent of maneuver to destroy, delay, or disrupt uncommitted enemy forces.”35 Additionally, the artillery raids conducted prior to 

the invasion exemplify the doctrinal imperative that “engagements must 

be violent to shock, paralyze, and overwhelm the enemy force quickly. 

They must be terminated rapidly to allow the force to disperse and avoid 

effective enemy counterstrikes.”36

The Attack

Actions once US forces crossed into the Iraqi defensive zone once 

again demonstrated that the training, organization, and execution of the 

division artillery was the tactical headquarters which could link strategy to 

tactics. Once the attack into Iraq began early on the morning of 23 February 1991, field artillery continued to play a significant role in the success 

of the US forces. Units displayed the skill they had gained in training and 

continually demonstrated flexibility as the offensive proceeded. The offensive began as the 2nd Armored Cavalry Regiment (2nd ACR) entered 

Iraq as a covering force for the two corps which were the main effort. 

As the spearhead for offensive into Iraq, the 2nd ACR depended heavily 

on artillery to mitigate the superior numbers of Iraqi forces. Intelligence 

reports indicated 2nd ACR would encounter the elite Republican Guard, 

which possessed its most formidable weapon, the T-72 tank.37 To mitigate 

the risk of facing the Republican Guard, the regiment, in addition to considerable air support, was augmented with an entire field artillery brigade. 

This flexibility enabled the 2nd ACR to conduct 30 minutes of preparation 

fires with an entire brigade to “suppress or destroy Iraqi observation posts 

located in several bunkers and observation towers.”38 The 30-minute artillery barrage on the Iraqi positions along the border crushed enemy morale. 
99

Three separate division artilleries coordinated targeting of numerous Iraqi command and control, artillery, and sustainment nodes in order to eliminate the possibility of enemy forces disrupting the offensive. 

The 3rd Army battle damage estimate reported that all 100 Iraqi artillery 

pieces that 2nd ACR initially faced were indeed destroyed.39 Throughout the entire operation, the 30 minutes of artillery preparation involved 

more than 350 artillery pieces. Three field artillery brigades supported 

breaching operations, firing more than 11,000 rounds and 414 rockets. 

This massed fire destroyed more than 50 Iraqi tanks, 139 other armored 

vehicles, and 152 artillery pieces.40

As the 2nd ACR maneuvered, its supporting division artillery tailored artillery support based on the enemy situation template, which was 

surprisingly accurate. After the initial breach of the Iraqi defense, 2nd 

ACR received light contact throughout its 64-kilometer movement on the 

first day of the ground offensive. When the regiment did receive enemy 

contact, it was quickly suppressed and neutralized by responsive field 

artillery support.41 The support on the first day of the offensive enabled 

and exemplified the AirLand Battle dynamic of maneuver in that actions 

demonstrated “the means of concentrating forces at the critical point to 

achieve the surprise, psychological shock, physical momentum, and moral dominance which enable smaller forces to defeat larger ones.”42 As 

demonstrated with the artillery raids, the execution of the artillery units 

in support of 2nd ACR also displayed the fundamentals of firepower as 

described in AirLand Battle, by facilitating “maneuver by suppressing the 

enemy’s fires and disrupting the movement of his forces. Firepower exploits maneuver by neutralizing the enemy’s tactical forces and destroying his ability and will to fight.”43 This was clear as enemy infantry, in 

entrenched positions, were engaged with US artillery, resulting in “numerous enemy prisoners of war surrendering.”44

Into the second day of the ground offensive, the weather took a turn for 

the worse with poor visibility due to dust and haze, severely restricting the 

employment of close air support. This made the role of the field artillery 

even more critical as 2nd ACR continued its movement toward the Iraqi 

premier force, its Republican Guard. Again, the division artillery seamlessly increased artillery support to lead elements is the regiment approached 

the elite Iraqi unit. AirLand Battle prescribed that “priority of support 

should change automatically when the commander shifts his main effort.”45

This not only demonstrated flexibility, but also the AirLand Battle imperative of depth. The doctrine stated, “through the use of depth, a commander obtains the necessary space to maneuver effectively; the necessary 
100

time to plan, arrange, and execute operations; and the necessary resources 

to win.”46 Despite the challenges presented with the poor weather and corresponding reduction in air support, once the Republican Guard was engaged, field artillery fires had a devastating effect. According to the battle 

damage assessments over a brigade’s worth of enemy armored vehicles 

were destroyed. This is remarkable given the supposed maneuverability 

of Iraqi armored forces, and the general inability for field artillery to have 

effects on moving targets.47

While the 2nd ACR saw the majority of the action during the initial 

48 hours of the invasion of Iraq, the remaining two corps followed and 

prepared to become the main effort of the operation. Field artillery units 

were continuing to demonstrate their agility as the corps maneuvered in 

division columns. Artillery commanders continually reallocated forces to 

weight the main effort within the division columns, in this case the elements most likely to make contact with enemy forces.48 Despite minimal 

enemy contact the agility prepared the divisions “for the rapid concentration of friendly strength against enemy vulnerabilities.”49

Figure 5.3. US Field Artillery Multiple Launch Rocket System (MLRS) conducting 

fire mission. Photo courtesy of Morris Swett Digital Collections & Archives, Fires 

Center of Excellence, Fort Sill, Oklahoma.
101

Analysis and Conclusion 

Intelligence reported that 43 Iraqi divisions prepared to defend along 

its border, organized into four corps. Despite their overwhelming numerical superiority, the Iraqi army was woefully overmatched and defeated 

soundly in a little more than four days of ground combat. The coalition 

force was prepared to face a much more determined enemy.50 Specifically, 

the field artillery exemplified the tenets and imperatives of the current doctrine, AirLand Battle. The field artillery heeded “integrating fire support 

into operations, the most important considerations are adequacy, flexibility, 

and continuity.”51 They carried out their doctrinal imperatives due to the 

integrated training led by each division artillery, which had begun long 

before being notified of deploying. Notification of the deployment focused 

their training, creating a sense of urgency that enhanced unit cohesion.52

Upon arriving in theater and preparing for ground combat, fires facilitated by the division artillery displayed flexibility by reducing enemy 

defenses with numerous artillery raids. This satisfied the imperative that 

“engagements must be violent to shock, paralyze, and overwhelm the enemy force quickly. They must be terminated rapidly to allow the force to 

disperse and avoid effective enemy counterstrikes.”53 The artillery raids 

completely neutralized the threat of artillery delivered chemical munitions 

during the initial attack into Iraq and vastly reduced the conventional artillery threat. This undoubtedly had a huge psychological benefit to the coalition forces as one of had neutralized one of the enemy’s most dangerous 

tools. Finally, the division artilleries continually adjusted the task organization of their subordinate units to provide the maximum available support 

to maneuver elements in contact or probable contact with the enemy. The 

AirLand Battle imperative which states “priority of support should change 

automatically when the commander shifts his main effort,” though simply 

stated, takes quite a bit of foresight, common training and understanding, 

and effective communication.54 This is exemplified as at one point on the 

third day of the advance through Iraq, when the 3rd Armored Division Artillery massed fires from three artillery battalions to destroy both an enemy 

bunker system and the supporting artillery that was a part of the bunker’s 

defense.55 By the end of the ground offensive, American field artillery had 

fired more than 58,000 rounds, helping to drive Iraq out of Kuwait.56

Overall, the performance of the field artillery was a testament to the 

training, habitual relationships within each division artillery, their subordinate units, and the comprehension and application of their current doctrine. 

These units displayed their readiness as a key part of the coalition force 
102

as it closed with, destroyed, and achieved a decisive victory over the Iraqi 

forces. When looked at through the lens of operational art, the division artilleries which participated in Operations Desert Shield and Desert Storm 

were the organizations that ensured that artillery was the decisive arm, 

“enabling the achievement of operational and strategic objectives through 

tactical action in time space and purpose.”57 This will become important to 

remember as the US Army shifts its focus from counterinsurgency operations to multi-domain operations and an operational environment where 

the US Army may be challenged by a near peer threat with superior technological capabilities. Using historical case studies as a guidepost, such as 

Operations Desert Shield/Desert Storm, the US Army Field Artillery must 

be organized, equipped and trained to demonstrate flexibility, adaptability, 

synchronization, and lethality if it is to successfully accomplish cross-domain fires in future large-scale ground combat operations.
103

Notes

1. Mark Milley, 39th Chief of Staff of the Army, “Initial Message to the 

Army,” August 2015, accessed 7 July 2016, https://www.army.mil/e2/rv5_downloads/leaders/csa/Initial_Message_39th_CSA.pdf. 

2. Milley.

3. US Army Fires Center of Excellence, DIVARTY White Paper, May 2014, 

14. 

4. US Army Forces Command, US Army Forces Command Division Artillery Implementation Order, 9 April 2014, 2.

5. Historically known as “non-divisional units,” or what are now known 

as Field Artillery Brigades, will not be discussed. They generally consist of 

Multiple Launch Rocket System (MLRS) battalions and High Mobility Artillery 

Rocket System (HIMARS) battalions. Field Artillery Brigades generally support 

a corps or field army. The principal missions of non-divisional artillery were the 

neutralization or destruction of hostile artillery (counterbattery fire), destruction 

of hostile defenses, long-range interdiction fire, and reinforcement of division 

artillery fires. This mission has generally remained unchanged between World 

War II and today.

6. Fires Center of Excellence, DIVARTY White Paper, 32. 

7. Mark Milley, “Initial Message to the Army.”

8. Department of the Army, Army Doctrine Publication (ADP) 3-0, Operations (Washington, DC: 2016), 7.

9. ADP 3-0, 8.

10. Army Doctrine Reference Publication (ADRP) 3-0, Operations (Washington, DC: 2016), 1-11.

11. ADRP 3-0, 3-10.

12. ADRP 3-0, 3-15.

13. With the modular Brigade Combat Team came the reduction of several 

brigade level headquarters historically associated with a US division, including 

the division support command and the division artillery. The intent was to, as 

the name implies, make brigades modular, self-contained organizations. While 

the Brigade Combat Team performed well when conducting stability/counterinsurgency operations, the unintended consequence of the deactivation of division 

artilleries across the army resulted in the atrophy of skills and proficiency of 

artillerymen and artillery units to perform their military occupational skills and 

mission essential tasks.

14. Department of the Army, ADRP 3-0, 2-1.

15. “Who we are” United States Army Field Artillery School,” accessed 16 

October 2016, http://sill-www.army.mil/USAFAS/who-we-are.html. The Field 

Artillery Branch and the Field Artillery School, headquartered at Fort Sill, Oklahoma, have the shared responsibility for basic and mid-level training for Field 

Artillery Soldiers. Within the scope of the division artillery, they also contribute 

to generating and revising field artillery doctrine and gather and disseminate 

lessons learned from across the force. 
104

16. Theresa Kraus and Frank Schubert, The Whirlwind War: The United 

States Army in Operations Desert Shield and Desert Storm, (Washington, DC: 

US Army Center of Military History, 1995), 133–34. 

17. Kraus and Schubert, 135–36. Iraqi tube artillery consisted of at least 

six different variants, ranging from 100-mm to 160-mm caliber rounds. For 

context, artillery less than 100-mm is considered light, 100-mm to 210-mm 

is medium-caliber, and greater than 210-mm is considered heavy artillery. A 

common Iraqi artillery piece was the G5, with a range of 39 kilometers. This 

range exceeded the 30-kilometer maximum range of the M109A2 self-propelled 

“Paladin”, the most common howitzer within the US armored divisions.

18. Kraus and Schubert, The Whirlwind War, 135; Kevin M. Woods and 

Michael R. Pease, The Mother of All Battles: Saddam Hussein’s Strategic Plan 

for the Persian Gulf War (New York, NY: Naval Institute Press, 2008), 60. 

19. US Army, Third Armored Division Artillery Historical Summary, 1991, 

2. 

20. Carl von Clausewitz, On War, ed. Michael Howard and Peter Paret 

(Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1984), 101.

21. Third Armored Division Artillery, Historical Summary, 2. 

22. Department of the Army, Field Manual (FM) 3-09, Field Artillery Operations and Fire Support (Washington, DC: 2014), 1-6; Fires Center of Excellence, DIVARTY White Paper, 32.

23. Department of the Army, Army Doctrine Publication (ADP) 3-0, Operations, 7. Flexibility is “the ability to employ a versatile mix of capabilities, 

formations, and equipment for conducting operations.” 

24. Department of the Army, Field Manual (FM) 100-5, Operations (Washington, DC: 1986), 16. 

25. Robert Scales, Certain Victory: The US Army in the Gulf War (Fort 

Leavenworth, KS: US Army Command and General Staff College Press, 1994), 

132. 

26. Woods and Pease, The Mother of All Battles, 6. 

27. Kraus and Schubert, The Whirlwind War, 165.

28. US Army Field Artillery School (USAFAS), “Redleg Update,” USAFAS 

PAO, 2017, 22. 

29. Department of the Army, FM 3-09, 1-6; Fires Center of Excellence, 

DIVARTY White Paper, 32.

30. Department of the Army, Joint Publication (JP) 3-0, Operations, 4-5. 

Operational reach is “the distance and duration across which a joint force can 

successfully employ military capabilities.”

31. Department of the Army, ADRP 3-0, 4-4. Decisive point is “a geographic place, specific key event, critical factor, or function that, when acted upon, 

allows commanders to gain a marked advantage over an adversary or contribute 

materially to achieving success.”

32. Kraus and Schubert, The Whirlwind War, 167.

33. Richard M. Swain, Lucky War: Third Army in Desert Storm (Fort Leavenworth, KS: US Army Command and General Staff College Press, 1994), 204.
105

34. Department of the Army, ADRP 3-0, 4-7.

35. Department of the Army, FM 100-5, 12.

36. FM 100-5, 24.

37. Scales, Certain Victory, 223.

38. 210th Field Artillery Brigade, Summary of Significant Events: Operation 

Desert Storm (New York, NY: Department of the Army, March 1991), 2.

39. Scales, Certain Victory, 226.

40. USAFAS, “Redleg Update,” 22.

41. 210th Field Artillery Brigade, Summary of Significant Events, 3.

42. Department of the Army, FM 100-5, 12.

43. FM 100-5, 12.

44. 210th Field Artillery Brigade, Summary of Significant Events, 2.

45. Department of the Army, FM 100-5, 44. 

46. FM 100-5, 16.

47. 210th Field Artillery Brigade, Summary of Significant Events, 1-3.

48. Third Armored Division Artillery, Historical Summary, 10.

49. Department of the Army, FM 100-5, 16.

50. Kraus and Schubert, The Whirlwind War, 133–135.

51. Department of the Army, FM 100-5, 44.

52. Third Armored Division Artillery, Historical Summary, 2. 

53. Department of the Army, FM 100-5, 24.

54. FM 100-5, 44.

55. Third Armored Division Artillery, Historical Summary, 13.

56. USAFAS, “Redleg Update,” 22. 

57. Department of the Army, ADRP 3-0, 4-4.

107

Chapter 6

The Kasserine Pass Battles: Learning to Employ Artillery 

Effectively in Large-Scale Combat Operations

Major Jeffrey S. Wright

The US Army and the field artillery, following the conclusion of major 

combat operations in Iraq and Afghanistan in 2003, shifted focus to counterinsurgency and stability operations. While the wisdom gained remains 

important, leaders within the US Army acknowledge that it does not adequately prepare units for peer and near-peer threats. Some leaders even 

raised concerns that the artillery’s focus on non-standard missions created 

an atrophy of traditional fires core competencies, reducing the ability to 

integrate with maneuver forces to meet future threats.1 To combat this, the 

US Army and field artillery instituted several corrective actions, to include 

focusing combat training center rotations on decisive action and the re-establishment of the division artillery (DIVARTY) concept.2

 While improving training concepts and organizational structures remain important, it is 

critical that leaders reflect on historical examples that highlight challenges 

and successes in large-scale combat operations.

The Kasserine Pass battles in February 1943, the first major engagement between American and Axis forces in Africa during World War II, 

provide an opportunity to assess the US Army and artillery’s ability to operate in large-scale combat operations. During such operations, commanders “conduct decisive action to seize, retain, and exploit the initiative” 

through multiple synchronized and simultaneous tasks.3

 Unable to seize 

and retain the initiative during the initial Axis offensive, American and 

Allied forces found success when they synchronized efforts “across the 

breadth and depth of their assigned AOs.”4 The successive defeats suffered 

in the initial battles resulted from fundamental flaws in Allied dispositions. These included artillery units—and the larger force as a whole—

isolated on djebels (hills), dispersed too widely to provide mutual support, and generally unprepared for an attack by Axis forces. The success 

of the Allied defense in Kasserine Pass, in contrast, resulted from effective 

leadership, the establishment of a combined arms defense in depth, and a 

concentration of artillery linked by a fire direction center (FDC) and enabled by forward observers to disrupt the attack with rapid, accurate, and 

devastating massed fires.

A synthesis of joint and US Army doctrine provides a way to analyze 

the field artillery’s effectiveness during the battles. These tools include 
108

two Principles of Joint Operations and two tenets of Unified Land Operations. Mass entails concentrating combat power effects “at the most 

advantageous place and time to produce decisive results,” and requires 

“maximum massed fires when and where they are required.”5 Maneuver

involves the “employment of forces in the operational area through movement in combination with fires to achieve a position of advantage,” and 

requires artillery to “displace rapidly, keep pace with the supported force 

. . . and position as needed to support future operations.”6 Flexibility requires leaders to “adapt to conditions as they change and employ forces in 

a variety of ways” based on an accurate understanding of their operational 

environment, equipment, and unit.7

 Finally, the synchronization of the artillery with the rest of the combined arms team in time, space, and purpose 

allows “maximum relative combat power at a decisive place and time.”8

The Road to the Kasserine Pass Battles

On 13 February 1943, the Allies in North Africa occupied dispersed 

positions along the Eastern Dorsal of the Atlas Mountains in Central Tunisia. Divided into three sections along a 250-mile front from the north Tunisian coast to El Guettar, the British First Army under Lieutenant General 

Sir Kenneth Anderson consisted of the British V Corps in the north, the 

French XIX Corps in the center, and the American II Corps under Major 

General Lloyd Fredendall in the south.9 Allied Forces commander General 

Dwight Eisenhower told Anderson and Fredendall the day before the Axis 

offensive that he considered the Allied dispositions “as good as could be 

made pending the development of an actual attack and in view of the great 

value of holding the forward regions.”10 Despite Eisenhower’s optimism, 

the Allies had struggled since their successful North African arrival.

After landing successfully in North Africa in November 1942, the Allies attempted to defeat Axis forces quickly in Tunisia and capture Tunis. 

Unfortunately, Axis forces prevented this due to their greater concentration 

of forces, better air cover, and shorter supply lines.11 Failing to seize Tunis quickly in late 1942, the original aim of trapping Field Marshall Erwin 

Rommel’s Afrika Korps in northern Libya between the First Army and General Sir Bernard Montgomery’s Eighth Army could not occur. With General Juergen von Arnim’s Fifth Panzer Army well positioned in northern 

Tunisia, Allied leaders recognized that Montgomery would need to drive 

Rommel west of Tripoli and into Tunisia.12 Not content to remain idle in 

Tunisia while Montgomery attacked, Eisenhower planned an attack by II 

Corps against Rommel’s western flank to inflict casualties on his forces, 

keeping them off balance while ideally breaking the Axis line of communication.13 However, the scheduled date of attack (late January 1943) coin-
109

cided with Montgomery’s planned arrival in Tripoli, and fears of a German 

counterattack against the Americans while the First Army fixed the Fifth 

Panzer Army led Eisenhower to cancel the operation.14 Rommel and his 

Afrika Korps, along with Fifth Panzer Army, seized the opportunity to strike 

in central Tunisia as Montgomery slowly advanced and the Allies gradually 

built up combat power.15

Multiple operations described as struggles “for the advantages of position and initiative” between Fifth Panzer Army and the Allies, specifically 

the possession of major passes in the Eastern Dorsal took place in January 

1942.16 Already in control of a corridor along the eastern Tunisian coast, 

the Germans conducted operations to capture additional passes to block 

future Allied advances and to threaten their lines of communication and 

supply bases.17 The Fifth Panzer Army attacked the French XIX Corps 

successfully on three separate occasions, with poorly trained and equipped 

French soldiers receiving little support from nearby forces.18 Throughout 

these operations, the Allies took several actions that set the stage for the 

Kasserine Pass battles.

Beginning in late January, Eisenhower instructed Anderson to keep 

the II Corps on the defensive and to hold the 1st Armored Division as a 

concentrated, mobile reserve pending Montgomery’s arrival in Tunisia.19

However, Eisenhower acquiesced to Fredendall’s plan to conduct several 

raids with II Corps along the Allied southern flank.20 Wanting to test newly 

arrived units of the 1st Armored Division, Fredendall instructed the division commander, Major General Orlando Ward, to establish three more 

combat commands in addition to Combat Command B (CCB) to perform 

various missions.21 While a standard capability of the American triangular 

division at the time, the formation of combat commands offered great flexibility at the cost of increased complexity and reduced cohesion—significant risk during a division’s first experience of combat. Ward soon found 

his division widely dispersed, with CCB supporting the French XIX Corps 

and Combat Commands A (CCA), C (CCC), and D (CCD) conducting 

unsuccessful operations between 24–30 January to seize Maknassy Pass 

and retain Faid Pass from Axis forces.22 Instead of potentially controlling 

two key passes, the Allies held neither. With the 1st Armored Division instructed to “hold as much as possible of the forward areas” in preparation 

for a March offensive, II Corps found itself ill prepared to hold areas east 

of the Western Dorsal should the Germans attack—a dangerous situation 

with the arrival of Rommel’s Afrika Korps in Tunisia on 4 February.23 As 

Eisenhower received a briefing on 13 February, Brigadier General Paul 
110

Robinett, commander of CCB, recommended that Eisenhower withdraw 

these II Corps units to better defensive positions as soon as possible.24 

Artillery Integration at the Kasserine Pass Battles

As elements of the Fifth Panzer Army attacked Sidi Bou Zid in the 

early morning of 14 February, they confronted dispersed and isolated II 

Corps units. CCA, reinforced by the 168th Infantry Regiment of the 34th 

Infantry Division, occupied positions in and around Sidi Bou Zid that prevented artillery units from massing fires. Two artillery battalions—the 91st 

Field Artillery and 2nd Battalion, 17th Field Artillery—occupied exposed 

positions in the open plain east of Sidi Bou Zid, with two batteries of the 

91st isolated from its parent battalion.25 As Von Arnim’s forces attacked 

from the Faid and Maizila Passes, they encircled II Corps units on two isolated hills and attempted to envelop Allied forces around Sidi Bou Zid.26

While two of the three firing batteries of the 91st withdrew under pressure 

in support of CCA, the third outlying battery failed to displace in time and 

succumbed to German forces.27 The 2nd Battalion, 17th Field Artillery 

no longer existed as a functioning combat unit after the initial encounter, 

losing every artillery piece in a German air attack after failing to displace 

in time.28 Any hope of II Corps stopping the Axis assault would require a 

strong counterattack force.

The II Corps counterattack force sent to destroy the German attackers 

near Sidi Bou Zid and aid in the withdrawal of CCA on 15 February did 

not possess the artillery or maneuver strength to accomplish its mission. 

The Allies counterattacked with a weaker force, made up of CCC and only 

one armor battalion of CCB from the French XIX Corps sector.29 Anderson 

refused to release all of CCB to Ward because he still expected the Axis 

main effort to attack farther to the north.30 Only the understrength 68th 

Field Artillery battalion supported the counterattack force. Although not 

nearly enough artillery to support the operation, the 68th maneuvered and 

remained flexible by adapting to different forms of support well, providing 

counterbattery fires, close support fires directed by observers against enemy tanks, and even direct fire.31 Despite valiant Allied efforts, Axis forces 

defeated the counterattack and forced II Corps to withdraw under pressure 

to the Western Dorsal.32 With elements of the 5th Panzer Army seizing 

Sbeitla and the Afrika Korps seizing Gafsa and Feriana by 17 February, 

Axis forces positioned themselves for a final attack through the Western 

Dorsal passes and into the Allied rear areas of Central Tunisia.33

As II Corps and the French XIX Corps withdrew and reconsolidated 

along the Western Dorsal, Rommel received a directive to attack toward 
111

Le Kef in the Allied rear areas.34 To accomplish this task, Rommel sent 

the 21st Panzer Division north of Sbeitla to penetrate the Allied line at 

Sbiba as the Afrika Korps prepared to attempt a similar penetration via 

the Kasserine Pass to the southwest. Rommel positioned the 10th Panzer 

Division in a central position near Sbeitla to exploit success wherever the 

opportunity appeared.35 As the Axis forces prepared their operations on 19 

February, the Allies hurriedly massed infantry and artillery to defend the 

Sbiba and Kasserine Passes. Eight infantry battalions with three field artillery battalions in support prepared for the defensive operation in Sbiba 

Thala

Kasserine

Gafsa

El Guettar

Aïn Bou Driès

Sbiba

N

18 Feb

Night

14‒15 Feb

Early 14 Feb

Night

17‒18 Feb

16 Feb

17 Feb

19 Feb

15‒16 Feb

17 Feb

16‒17 Feb

14 Feb

17 Feb

18 Feb

21 Feb

17 Feb

21‒22 Feb

21‒22 Feb

from Fondouk

20 Feb

20 Feb

1(-)

XX

(22 Feb) 9(-)

XX

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III E

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1

X

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XX 1

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X

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34(-)

III

Br.

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15 Feb

10(-)

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10(-)

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21(-)

XX

10(-)

XX

21(-)

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15 Feb

10(+)

XX

(Part)

XXXX

FIFTH

ARNIM

(Part)

XXXX

ROMMEL

AFRICA

Axis forces started withdrawing through Kasserine

Pass 22 February, reaching

line Hadjeb El Aioun–Sbeitla‒

Feriana by 26 February.

Algeria

Tunisia

Tebessa

Youks les Bains

El Abiod

Ousseltia Maktar

Fondouk

Pichon

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Maknassy

Sened

Battle of Kasserine Pass

Operations, 14–22 February 1943

0 100 200 300 Miles

Thelepte

Ferlana

Fakl

Sidi Bou

Z

II

id

I

168 RCT

(Part)

III

168 RCT

(Part)

1

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Sbeitla

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19‒20 Feb

Dernl

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ln

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TF WELVERT

28 Feb

DJ ABIO

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DJ KSARA

DJ SSOUD

Figure 6.1. Kasserine Pass Battles. Map created by Army University Press.
112

Pass.36 Concurrently, Colonel Alexander Stark situated his “Stark Force” 

of an infantry battalion, an artillery battalion, and an engineer regiment in 

defensive positions at the opening of the Kasserine Pass.37 Success for the 

Allies would depend on how long they could delay the Axis offensive and 

how many units could arrive in time to serve as reinforcements.

As the 21st Panzer attacked Sbiba Pass, it confronted three well-prepared artillery battalions with more than 100 pre-planned targets along 

the likely attack route and multiple observers to adjust indirect fires.38 As 

the attack on Sbiba failed to penetrate this defensive position of massed 

and synchronized fires, Rommel ordered the 10th Panzer to reinforce the 

Afrika Korps as it attacked the much smaller Stark Force in the Kasserine 

Pass.39 As Stark’s defense of the Kasserine Pass went into a second day on 

20 February, Rommel ordered the 10th Panzer and Afrika Korps to conduct a “side-by-side attack,” which finally enabled him to gain control of 

the pass on the evening of 20 February.40 Allied senior commanders anticipated their inability to hold and repositioned units in defensive positions 

on either side of the Bahiret Foussana Valley, west of Kasserine Pass, to 

limit any Axis exploitation. 

Anderson ordered the 16th Infantry Regiment and 7th Field Artillery 

Battalion of the 1st Infantry Division to block the Axis attack vicinity Bou 

Chebka on the northwest side of the valley.41 Meanwhile, the British 26th

Armored Brigade established defenses along Highway 17 on the northeast 

side of the valley while CCB established defensive positions at Djebel el 

Hamra, covering the passes to the Allied rear areas of Tebessa and Haidra.42 The arrival of Allied reinforcements and commanders that knew how 

to employ them as part of a combined arms defense—Robinett and 1st Infantry Division commander Major General Terry Allen—meant that Rommel’s forces would face solid defenses on 21–22 February.43

As Rommel’s forces moved into the Bahiret Foussana Valley, Allied 

forces blocked their advance and prevented any attempt to exploit victory in the Kasserine Pass. Four artillery battalions supporting CCB and 

elements of the 1st Infantry Division delivered massed fires that contributed significantly to the defeat of Axis attempts to penetrate at Djebel el 

Hamra and Bou Chebka. Supporting CCB, the 27th Field Artillery alone 

fired over 2,000 rounds, while Colonel Clift Andrus—the 1st Infantry DIVARTY commander—synchronized counterattacks with fires from the 7th 

and 33rd Field Artillery battalions.44

On the northeast side of the valley, the 10th Panzer advanced toward 

Thala against the British 26th Armored Brigade. Possessing two batteries of 
113

artillery, the brigade withdrew twice to subsequent defensive positions before taking final defensive positions just south of Thala.45 These retrograde 

operations provided time for the 9th DIVARTY under Brigadier General S. 

LeRoy Irwin to arrive, establish mutually supporting positions, and assist 

the British in defeating the German attack. Bringing with him three artillery 

battalions and two cannon companies, Irwin established a “three-mile arc” 

to deliver massed fires.46 Rommel believed that the arrival of this additional 

artillery portended an impending counterattack and ordered all Axis units to 

withdraw from the Kasserine Pass on the night of 22 February.47

Analyzing Field Artillery Employment

While American artillery failed to mass fires effectively at the beginning of the Kasserine Pass battles due to poor unit dispositions preventing 

mutual support, II Corps weighted the main effort sufficiently with artillery during the defensive battles at Sbiba, Djebel el Hamra, Bou Chebka, 

and Thala. The failure to weight either the forces in vicinity of Sidi Bou 

Zid or the counterattack force caused one senior leader to write, “the concentration of artillery fire is a prerequisite of success.”48 The ineffective 

combat command structure of the 1st Armored Division contributed to the 

initial inability of supporting artillery to deliver massed fires. Excessively dispersed artillery units could not provide mutual support, particularly 

because the 1st Armored Division created two additional ad hoc combat 

commands, CCC and CCD.49 Artillery battalions had the tools to mass, 

but senior leaders following the campaign recommended keeping the three 

division artillery battalions in mutual support, to employ artillery “as a 

battalion and not as separate batteries,” and to maintain centralized control 

at the division-level in order to mass fires at the decisive point.50

Maneuverability can enable artillery to avoid counterbattery fire, enhance survivability, and ensure guns stay in supporting range of ground 

combat units. Senior artillery leaders participating in the battles stressed 

at the conclusion of the Tunisian Campaign the need for artillery units to 

improve survivability in order to support future combat operations effectively. Topics of discussion included multiple avenues of displacement, 

anti-tank operations, tube dispersion, and local security.51 Some artillery 

units, like the 91st and 2nd Battalion, 17th Artillery, failed in this regard 

during the Battle of Sidi Bou Zid. Others, such as the 68th, effectively 

supported their maneuver brethren while maintaining survivability due to 

effective leadership and solid training.52

The Allies initially failed to demonstrate flexibility by refusing to 

withdraw the First Army from the Eastern Dorsal to better defensive posi-
114

tions and await favorable weather and additional combat power. Flexible 

and adaptive leaders must possess “comfort with ambiguity and uncertainty,” and an “ability to rapidly adjust while continuously assessing the situation.”53 Eisenhower acknowledged his unwillingness to change the plan 

based on knowledge of the operational environment after the war, “had I 

been willing at the end of November to admit temporary failure and pass 

to the defensive, no attack against us could have achieved even temporary 

success.”54 Such a willingness to change could have prevented the positioning of dispersed artillery units in non-mutually supportive positions 

before the Axis attack on 14 February. Only until successive defeats on 

14–15 February did Anderson acknowledge the precariousness of the situation and order a withdrawal to the Western Dorsal. As the field artillery 

battalions reconsolidated and moved within mutual supporting distance, 

senior artillery leaders recognized they could employ their units according 

to doctrine to mass fires through FDCs and observed fires.

Finally, effective synchronization of artillery with other combat arms 

did not take place until the battles of Sbiba, Djebel el Hamra, Bou ChebFigure 6.2. A 105-mm howitzer and crew from B Battery, 33rd Field Artillery Battalion, prepare to fire at advancing German infantry during the Battle of Kasserine Pass, February 1943. Photo courtesy of US Army Center of Military History.
115

ka, and Thala largely because senior leaders familiar with synchronizing 

artillery with maneuver were not present to coordinate such actions. Two 

weeks before the Axis attack on Sidi Bou Zid, the 1st Armored DIVARTY 

commander took command of the improvised CCD, depriving the division 

of a senior artillery commander and his staff to synchronize fires effectively.55 As senior artillery commanders (like Colonel Andrus of the 1st Infantry 

DIVARTY and Brigadier General Irwin of the 9th DIVARTY) arrived to coordinate artillery fires with maneuver forces around Bou Chebka and Thala, 

Allied forces exercised effective synchronization to defeat Axis attacks.

Conclusion

Initial employment of artillery in the Kasserine Pass battles suffered 

from the same problems as the larger Allied force. As Major General Ernest Harmon—the new 1st Armored Division commander following the 

battles—summarized in his Tunisian Campaign report, the division “was 

never employed as a unit except in the final phase . . . the division had 

arrived piecemeal and had been used piecemeal.”56 As commanders and 

leaders conduct decisive action during large-scale combat operations to 

seize, retain, and exploit the initiative, fires weight the decisive operation 

or main effort to ensure mission success. This remains particularly important at the commencement of large-scale combat operations, as there is a 

high probability that US Army forces will need to defend against an enemy with locally superior capabilities.57 During future large-scale combat 

operations, successful employment of American field artillery requires an 

array of forces that sets the conditions to mass, flexibility by adapting to 

conditions as they change in the operational environment, maneuverability 

to gain an advantage, and synchronized action with maneuver forces to 

achieve greater effects. The initial attacks by Axis forces during the Kasserine Pass battles caught the II Corps unprepared to employ its excellent 

fire support system developed from sound, practical doctrine and procedures. As the operation progressed, II Corps learned from its mistakes and 

employed artillery to enable Allied victory.
116

Notes

1. Sean MacFarland, Michael Shields, and Jeffrey Snow, “White Paper: The 

King and I: The Impending Crisis in Field Artillery’s Ability to Provide Fire 

Support to Maneuver Commander,” White Paper, United States Army, 2007, 1.

2. Dennis Steele, “Decisive-Action Training Rotations: ‘Old School Without 

Going Back in Time,’” Army (February 2013): 28-32; Scott R. Gourley “Return of 

Division Artillery Stokes the Fires,” Fires, November–December 2014, accessed 

18 May 2018, http://sill-www.army.mil/firesbulletin/current/06_Gourley.html.

3. Department of the Army, Field Manual (FM) 3-0, Operations (Washington, DC: 2017) 5-3.

4. FM 3-0, 5-5.

5. Joint Chiefs of Staff, Joint Publication (JP) 3-0, Joint Operations (Washington, DC: 2017) A-2; Department of the Army, Army Doctrine Reference 

Publication (ADRP) 3-09, Fires (Washington, DC: 2012) 1–9

6. Joint Chiefs of Staff, JP 3-0, GL-12; Department of the Army, ADRP 

3-09, 1–9.

7. Department of the Army, Army Doctrine Publication (ADP) 3-0, Operations (Washington, DC: 2017) 10; Department of the Army, ADRP 3-09, 1–5.

8. Department of the Army, ADRP 3-09, 1–5.

9. Omar Bradley, A Soldier’s Story (New York: Henry Holt and Company, 

1951), 24.

10. George F. Howe, Northwest Africa: Seizing the Initiative in the West, 

United States Army in World War II: The Mediterranean Theater of Operations 

(Washington, DC: Office of the Chief of Military History, 1957), 405.

11. Carlo D’Este, World War II in the Mediterranean (Chapel Hill: Algonquin 

Books of Chapel Hill, 1990), 7–10; Gerhard Weinberg, A World at Arms: A Global 

History of World War II (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1994), 435.

12. Howe, Northwest Africa, 347; D’Este, World War II in the Mediterranean, 8, 12.

13. Howe, 349–50.

14. Howe, 353; US Military Academy, The War in North Africa, Part 2 

(The Allied Invasion) (West Point: United States Military Academy AG Press, 

1947), 24.

15. Weinberg, A World at Arms, 441–42, Howe, Northwest Africa, 349.

16. Howe, 386.

17. US Military Academy, The War in North Africa, Part 2, 23; Howe, 386; 

Orr Kelly, Meeting the Fox (New York: John Wiley and Sons, 2002), 149.

18. Kelly, 154; US Military Academy, 25–26; Rick Atkinson, An Army at 

Dawn (New York, NY: Henry Holt and Company, 2002), 308.

19. Howe, Northwest Africa, 384; Atkinson, An Army at Dawn, 305.

20. Atkinson, 305.

21. Kelly, Meeting the Fox, 155–56.

22. Atkinson, An Army at Dawn, 305–07, 310–12; Howe, Northwest Africa, 392.
117

23. Howe, Northwest Africa, 399; US Military Academy, The War in North 

Africa, 27–28.

24. Kelly, Meeting the Fox, 175.

25. Howe, Northwest Africa, 411; George F. Howe, The Battle History of 

the 1st Armored Division (Washington, DC: Combat Forces Press, 1954), 145; 

Kelly, 176–77.

26. Atkinson, An Army at Dawn, 340, 342; Bradley, A Soldier’s Story, 25.

27. Howe, The Battle History of the 1st Armored Division, 146, 149.

28. Kelly, Meeting the Fox, 187–88; Atkinson, An Army at Dawn, 340; 

Howe, Northwest Africa, 412.

29. Atkinson, An Army at Dawn, 349; Howe, Northwest Africa, 418–19.

30. Howe, 416; Atkinson, 349.

31. Howe, The Battle History of the 1st Armored Division, 155–63.

32. Atkinson, An Army at Dawn, 352–53; Howe, Northwest Africa, 423–24.

33. Howe, 426–27.

34. Howe, 440–41.

35. Atkinson, An Army at Dawn, 369.

36. Howe, Northwest Africa, 442–43.

37. Howe, 442–443; Atkinson, An Army at Dawn, 366–67.

38. Howe, 452–53; Kelly, Meeting the Fox, 234; Atkinson, 378.

39. Atkinson, 378; Howe, 459.

40. Howe, 459; Atkinson, 372.

41. “A Factual Summary of the Combat Operations of the 1st Infantry Division in North Africa and Sicily During World War II (Extract),” in Kasserine 

Pass Battles: Readings I, Part 2, ed. Harold W. Nelson, Roger Cirillo (Washington, DC: US Army Center of Military History, 1993), 15–16.

42. Howe, Northwest Africa, 457–58.

43. Paul M. Robinett, “Combat Command B, 1st Armored Division, Operations Report, Bahiret Foussana Valley, 20–25 February 1943,” in Kasserine Pass 

Battles: Readings I, Part 2, 2; Atkinson, An Army at Dawn, 379; Howe, Northwest Africa, 462–63.

44. Robinett, “Combat Command B,” 2; Terry Allen, “1st Infantry Division, Summary of Activities, January–March 1943, and Division Commander’s 

Notes,” in Kasserine Pass Battles: Readings I, Part 2, 3.

45. Howe, Northwest Africa, 464–66.

46. Robert C. Baldridge, “How Artillery Beat Rommel After Kasserine,” Field Artillery, May–August 2002, 49–50; Atkinson, An Army at Dawn, 385.

47. Atkinson, 385–87.

48. Headquarters, Thirteenth Armored Regiment to Commanding General, 

1st Armored Division, 8 July 1943, Dwight D. Eisenhower Presidential Library, 

US Army: Unit Records, 1917–1950, 1st Armored Division, 1940–1946, Box 

16, 1st Armored Division Misc. Staff Section Battle Lessons 1943.

49. D’Este, World War II in the Mediterranean, 10, 18; Kelly, Meeting the 

Fox, 155–56.
118

50. Headquarters, 27th Armored Field Artillery Battalion to Commanding 

General, 1st Armored Division, 16 July 1943, Dwight D. Eisenhower Presidential Library, US Army: Unit Records, 1917–1950, 1st Armored Division, 

1940–1946, Box 16, 1st Armored Division Misc. Staff Section Battle Lessons 

1943; Headquarters, 91st Armored Field Artillery Battalion to G3, 1st Armored 

Division, 10 July 1943, Dwight D. Eisenhower Presidential Library, US Army: 

Unit Records, 1917–1950, 1st Armored Division, 1940–1946, Box 16, 1st 

Armored Division Misc. Staff Section Battle Lessons 1943; “Lessons from Tunisian Campaign, 1943,” in Kasserine Pass Battles: Readings II, Part 3, ed. Harold W. Nelson and Roger Cirillo (Washington, DC: US Army Center of Military 

History, 1993), 28; Boyd L. Dastrup, King of Battle: A Branch History of the US 

Army’s Field Artillery (Fort Monroe: United States Army Training and Doctrine 

Command, Office of the Command Historian, 1992), 210–11.

51. 27th Armored Field Artillery; Headquarters, 1st Infantry Division to 

Commanding General, Allied Force Headquarters, 9 July 1943, Dwight D. Eisenhower Presidential Library, US Army: Unit Records, 1917–1950, 1st Infantry 

Division, 1942–1945, Box 756, 1st Infantry Division Reports on Combat Experience and Battle Lessons for Training Purposes; Headquarters, 68th Armored 

Field Artillery Battalion to Commanding General, 1st Armored Division, 10 

July 1943, Dwight D. Eisenhower Presidential Library, US Army: Unit Records, 

1917–1950, 1st Armored Division, 1940–1946, Box 16, 1st Armored Division 

Misc. Staff Section Battle Lessons 1943.

52. Howe, The Battle History of the 1st Armored Division, 162–65.

53. Department of the Army, Army Doctrine Reference Publication (ADRP) 

3-0, Operations (Washington, DC: 2017), 3–9.

54. Atkinson, An Army at Dawn, 391.

55. Atkinson, 347.

56. Headquarters, First Armored Division to Commanding General, Allied 

Force Headquarters, 13 July 1943, Dwight D. Eisenhower Presidential Library, 

US Army: Unit Records, 1917–1950, 1st Armored Division, 1940–1946, Box 

16, 1st Armored Division Misc. Staff Section Battle Lessons 1943.

57. Department of the Army, FM 3-0, 5-5.
119

Chapter 7

Operational Artillery in the Korean War

Major G. Kirk Alexander

Exhausted American Soldiers lined the Naktong River in a series of 

observation posts to provide early warning and to direct and adjust artillery fire missions to disrupt the next enemy attack. Mindful of every noise, 

no one could be sure where or when the North Koreans would attempt 

another attack the fragile Pusan Perimeter, the final effort to buy time to 

allow the United Nations (UN) to build up forces in Korea. The summer 

months and lack of rain had decreased the river depth to three feet in several areas, almost negating the river as a defensive obstacle. The Naktong 

River defenders were aware of these conditions and anticipated a largescale North Korean attack. As expected, incoming artillery rained in on the 

men and broke the silence, a standard precursor to a North Korean attack. 

According to plan, fire support officers executed designated artillery and 

air targets on likely enemy crossing points to increase their responsiveness. The plan did not account for every aspect of the enemy’s attack.

Forward observers, observation battalions and observation aircraft 

were all refining targets and adjusting calls for fire to compensate for this 

lack of predictability. Requests for indirect artillery support funneled into 

the fire support net monitored by the corps artillery headquarters. They 

maintained centralized control of all artillery units not under the control of 

the division to permit maximum integration of all available assets on the 

targets. Meanwhile, the artillerymen were at work slamming rounds into 

their howitzers and guns in an attempt to keep up with enemy offensive. 

The harsh Korean terrain thwarted any attempt to reposition the howitzers. 

Regardless, they delivered massive amounts of artillery at an alarming 

rate, sometimes exceeding the howitzer’s physical capacity resulting in 

damage to the tubes. North Korean soldiers struggled to maintain their 

formations and crossing sites, immediately noting the accuracy and effectiveness of the volleys. Additionally, the North Koreans found their own 

artillery under intense bombardment, which limited their ability to continue to the attack. As the North Koreans began to disperse and retreat from 

the Naktong, they presented the UN’s artillery forward observers with additional targets of opportunity. Divisional artillery battalions and close air 

support attempted to finish the rest of the enemy forces. Unfortunately, 

just as the artillerymen were about to deliver another destructive volley, 

their position was attacked by an infiltration force that had slipped through 
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the line. Transitioning to direct fire mode, the artillerymen attempted to 

depress the tubes to engage dismounted enemy breaching the defensive 

wire. As enemy armor, artillery, and machine gun fire increased, the artillerymen abandoned their howitzers to take up defensive positions in nearby buildings. Ultimately, it was a lost cause. Forced to evacuate the firing 

point, the artillerymen left the howitzers to the North Koreans.1

This depiction is representative of a number of the conflicts that took 

place along the Pusan defensive line between 1 August 1950 and 1 September 1950. Primarily, it describes the employment of artillery in the defense 

against an enemy with seemingly limitless manpower. United States artillery in the Korean War was a mix of towed and self-propelled howitzers and 

guns that delivered projectiles up to 15 miles away upon designated targets.2

The ability to employ these weapons at the most basic level hinged on the 

interaction of the three components of the artillery team: the observer that 

locates the target, the fire direction center that computes the data to engage 

the target, and the actual howitzer or gun team that executes the mission. 

Massed fires were concentrating the effects of more than one howitzer or 

gun on a single target. Artillery battalions of up to 18 howitzers could coordinate these effects on a single target internally. However, on a larger 

scale, synchronizing multiple battalions in this way added another level 

of complexity. These massed effects did not simply happen in the Korean 

War; extensive target planning, adequate command and control structures 

to coordinate efforts, and the flexibility to engage targets of opportunity 

with divisional and non-divisional artillery made them possible. Centralized 

control at the battalion and corps levels permitted the controlling authority 

to determine the most lucrative targets to engage with the full complement 

of artillery and close air support.3 Additionally, the survivability of artillery battalions was critical to ensure the availability of all battalions at any 

time. Security of artillery forces was lacking in the beginning of the conflict. 

During the Pusan defense, North Korean forces overran the UN’s artillery 

positions several times, but UN forces fought to regain lost ground with the 

infantry. By 1951, the artillery battalions corrected or mitigated the majority 

of the security concerns.4 Despite the security shortfalls of the artillery in 

support of the Pusan Perimeter, operational artillery remained highly effective at repelling the human wave attacks of North Korean forces.

5 

The Korean War provides a unique window to examine the effective 

use of artillery in large-scale combat operations because of the unprecedented amount of artillery rounds fired per gun during the conflict.6

 At 

times, the US Army artillery fired five times the daily expenditure rates of 

World War II.7 This heavy rate of fire was necessary because of a number 
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of factors. The nature of defensive fires in protection of dispersed outposts, particularly against the sheer number of North Korean and Chinese 

militants, forced the UN forces to make up for their lack of artillery units 

through increased rates of fire for long durations. Additionally, in order for 

the UN’s counter-fire to be effective against heavily fortified static North 

Korean and Chinese artillery positions, it resorted to precision fires that 

used high volumes of artillery to destroy these positions.8

 Therefore, the 

UN forces had to evaluate their current methods for providing effective 

artillery support in response to these threats. During this process, leaders 

drew upon lessons from World War II, recommendations during the interwar period, and adaptations during the Korean War conflict. In 2013, as 

the US Army reorganizes after ten years of counter insurgency warfare and 

looks at conducting multi-domain operations, it is time to reevaluate our 

current ability to provide massed artillery against a near peer threat during 

large-scale combat operations.

The Korean War: A Brief Synopsis

On 25 June 1950, North Korea launched an invasion across the 38th 

Parallel. US President Harry S. Truman almost immediately responded 

Figure 7.1. Gun crew of B Battery, 61st Field Artillery Battalion, 1st Cavalry 

Division fire their 105-mm howitzer across the Naktong River on North Korean 

troops, 7 August 1950. Photo courtesy of US Army Center of Military History.
122

with the commitment of air and naval forces to support the Republic of Korea’s defense. Two days later, the UN Security Council passed a resolution 

to aid in the defense of South Korea and President Truman (without consulting Congress) approved the deployment of two Army divisions from 

Japan to Korea. He failed to get a congressional declaration of war though 

Congress did little to stop the intervention. The North Korean assault continued and by 28 June, Kim Il Sung’s forces seized Seoul, the capital of 

South Korea. General Douglas MacArthur, nominated as commander of 

UN military forces in Korea, committed Task Force Smith, an unprepared 

force of approximately 500 men to delay the North Koreans while a larger 

force deployed to Pusan. In the ensuing battle with North Korean forces, 

Task Force Smith lost half of its combat force and withdrew under pressure. Fortunately, the UN’s air superiority provided a marked advantage 

to delay the north, but it became clear that a larger ground force would be 

required to stop the North Korean People’s Army. The UN committed additional US divisions to reinforce the delaying action, but they were forced 

east of the Naktong River into the Pusan defensive perimeter.9

Holding firm within the Pusan Perimeter, UN forces under General 

MacArthur initiated an amphibious landing at Inchon on 15 September 

1950 to regain Seoul and cut the supply lines of the North Korean forces 

in the south. This allowed the UN’s forces to launch an offensive that 

eventually pushed North Korean forces back to the 38th Parallel. After 

crossing the 38th Parallel and conducting amphibious landings in the 

east, UN forces decimated remaining North Korean forces and reunited 

the peninsula. This prompted Chinese intervention, which launched three 

massive offensives against the UN forces and eventually recaptured Seoul 

in early January 1951.10

Over the next month, UN forces withdrew south of Wonju to Line D, 

approximately the 37th Parallel. Able to hold this line, the UN conducted 

several counteroffensives and stopped the Chinese Fourth Offensive in 

mid-February. Capitalizing on their momentum, the UN forces conducted two more offensives that recaptured Seoul on 14 March 1951 and 

re-established the UN front along the 38th Parallel. Two more offensive 

operations allowed the UN forces to move 30 miles north of the 38th 

Parallel to establish a defensive line along Phase Line Kansas to prepare 

for another Chinese offensive.11 

The Chinese began their Fifth Offensive on 22 April 1951, resulting in 

some of the most extreme fighting of the Korean War. The offensive forced 

the UN forces back to No Name Line, but ultimately they held there. On 

16 May 1951, the Battle of the Soyang River and other battles along the 
123

U.S.S.R.

Korea

Bay



Tongchon

Sea of

Japan

Yellow

Sea

Korean Archipelago

Cheju-do

Tsushima

(Japan)

China

Japan

South

Korea

United Nations Operations

in Korea

June–December 1950

0 25 50 75 100 Miles

N

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Mokpo

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Yanji

Tumen

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Chongjin

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Kanggye

Rashin

Kilchu

Hyesan

Wonsan

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Iwon

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Chonson-up

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Pyongyang

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Anju

Kansong

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Nampo

Chongju

Chungju

Kwangju Masan

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Pusan Yosu

Chonju

Taegu

Kyongju

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Koje-do

26 Oct

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7 Oct

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Pusan Perimeter

15 Sep

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US Forces from Japan

1 Jul–Sep

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Onsong

Vladivostok

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Korea 

Sukchon

 Panmunjom 

Munsan

Seoul

Suwon

Osan

Chonan

MacArthur & X Corps

15 Sep

Diversionary assaults

preceding the landing

at Inchon

Figure 7.2. United Nations operations, July–December 1950. Map recreated 

by Army University Press, courtesy of the US Military Academy, West Point.
124

No Name Line forced the Chinese and North Korean forces to withdraw 

to the 38th Parallel by mid-May 1951. UN forces began a final summer 

offensive that pushed the Chinese and North Koreans back to beyond the 

Wyoming-Kansas Line where UN forces held on 22 June 1951. Negotiations for an armistice began at Kaesong, but took two years to complete. 

The final armistice signaled the end of active hostilities on 27 July 1953.12 

The Fundamental Principles of using Artillery in the Defense

This section examines the factors of operational artillery during the 

defense of the Pusan Perimeter, the defense along Soyang River in May 

1951, and along the 38th Parallel during the negotiations up to the armistice.13 The lessons from the Second World War validated the importance 

of artillery in modern conflict and presented a number of recommendations for improving its effects on the battlefield. The structure of the force 

and doctrine after World War II centered on the concept of unlimited warfare using overwhelming firepower of nuclear weapons.14 Artillery officers 

recommended increasing the number of artillery pieces in the organic division artillery formations, reestablishing the corps artillery headquarters as 

the command and control element for synchronizing fires, and pushing for 

more self-propelled artillery.15 However, the drawdown of the US Army, 

the lack of training associated with the drain of experienced leaders, and 

overreliance on atomic weapons during the period before the Korean War 

hampered the implementation of these lessons.16 Additionally, equipment 

and ammunition shortages compounded the problem. American military 

forces became accustomed with trading firepower for maneuver, preferring to remain static in the defense.17 In some cases, the US Army would 

have to relearn the lessons of World War II to take advantage of the Army 

at hand. Operational leaders utilized artillery most effectively by massing divisional and non-divisional artillery forces to support the maneuver 

battalions, establishing unity of command to facilitate massed fires and 

ensuring artillery survivability. The fundamental principles of defensive 

artillery fire support as employed by large unit commanders in the Korean 

War were mass, unity of command, and security.

Using Artillery in the Defense: Mass

On 16 May 1951, amidst the North Korean and Chinese Second 

Spring Offensive, the US X Corps along with two Republic of Korea 

(ROK) Corps found themselves nose-to-nose along the Soyang River 

with a numerically superior force consisting of two Chinese Army Groups 

and two North Korean Corps.18 The UN forces had just regained Seoul in 

March and repelled a communist attack against the South Korean capi-
125

tal in April. The X Corps occupied defensive positions along No Name 

Line and communist forces focused their attacks against them with over 

15 divisions. General James Van Fleet, then commander of the Eighth 

Army, allocated an additional three battalions of corps artillery to General Ned Almond’s X Corps giving him ten divisional artillery battalions, 

six battalions of corps artillery, and five additional reinforcing artillery 

battalions. Van Fleet increased the daily rate of fire enabling some of the 

battalions to fire in excess of 10,000 rounds during a single engagement. 

An excess of 1,000 sorties of close air support complemented these fires, 

all coordinated to maximize effects.19 As thousands of Chinese troops 

flooded the X Corps’ sector, a barrage of massed artillery fires and close 

air support stopped the offensive cold in its tracks.

During the Battle of the Soyang River, heavy concentrations of massed 

fires stopped a numerically superior enemy on the offensive. Commanders 

were no longer limited to directed ammunition restrictions and could finally maximize the number of rounds that the artillery fired.20 The combination of more rounds to fire and accurately concentrated artillery proved extremely lethal. At the time of the Korean War, the 1949 Army Field Manual 

100-5, Operations codified the concept of mass as a recognized principle of 

war. It defined mass as “the concentration of superior forces, on the ground, 

at sea, and in the air, at the decisive place and time, and their employment 

in a decisive direction” to create the conditions essential to victory.21 

Applied to artillery, the concentration of effects from multiple artillery 

battalions as well as air support assets at the decisive place and time to 

provide an advantage over the enemy equaled massed fires. In order to 

concentrate and synchronize the effects of artillery and air support required 

detailed integrated fire planning, overlapping observation platforms and 

artillery mobility facilitated the defense. Behind the scenes of the UN’s response was a honed artillery machine forged from their experiences from 

the past year’s conflict and grounded in tested World War II doctrine.

At the time of the Korean War, there was no doctrinal definition of 

massed fires, but the clarification of the term emerged throughout the doctrine of the period.22 The 1953 War Department Field Manual (FM) 6-20, 

Artillery Tactics and Technics described the use of artillery with respect 

to mass as a principle of employment: “The proper tactical and technical employment of artillery fire power exploits the principles of mass and 

maneuver. Artillery weapons and units are not physically massed in the 

manner implied for ground gaining arms; rather artillery is so employed as 

to provide the maximum capability for massing its fires when and where 

required to support the action of the ground gaining arms.”23 Essentially, 
126

the artillery should concentrate as many artillery weapons as possible on 

targets that are decisive to the maneuver element. 

The relative lack of artillery in comparison to World War II led Army 

leaders to increase the amount of artillery rounds fired from each system. 

Comparatively, hardly any other modern war had higher rates of fire to 

compensate for this shortfall.24 These two elements of concentrated effects 

and increased firing rates directly led to the successes of the defensive 

battles of August and September 1950 of the Pusan Perimeter and later at 

the Soyang River.25

Fire planning in the Korean War was not much different from that used 

in World War II. A fire plan was “the tactical plan for using the weapons of 

a unit so that their fire missions will be coordinated.”26 Doctrinally, coordinating fire missions were essential to concentrated fires because it synthesized the current targeting intelligence, prioritized the engagement of 

these targets, forecasted the logistical requirements, and synchronized the 

available artillery formations.27 This process involved every member of 

the artillery team. The observers within the maneuver battalions nominated and refined targets synchronized with maneuver for execution while the 

unit artillery headquarters took these targets and determined the best way 

to support their execution through positioning of unit formations, type of 

missions required to achieve the desired effects, and the logistical support 

plan. These plans occurred at all levels with the subordinate plans feeding 

the higher operational picture.

One of the essential elements of fire planning was prearranged fires, 

“planned fire which is to be delivered at a specified time or for which 

a need for rapid delivery can be anticipated and for which firing data 

are prepared in advance and kept current.”28 Essentially, these fires were 

pre-determined targets that were on call from the supported unit. To develop these targets, artilleryman analyzed aerial photos or actually observed the terrain, determined the most likely enemy avenue of approach, 

and pre-coordinated the targets with maneuver.29 This pre- coordination 

allowed for faster responsiveness and clearance of fires. In the defense, 

especially in Korea, prearranged fires on likely enemy avenues of approach delayed and reduced the effectiveness of enemy offensive operations against an established perimeter.30

Ultimately, pre-planned artillery could not completely account for every place that the artillery units planned to engage the enemy. Often artillery targets emerged that were absent from the initial fire plan and required 

a certain amount of flexibility to engage. Artillery planners attempted to 
127

build this type of flexibility into the fire plan. Planners would designate 

supporting artillery units to provide fires specifically for targets of opportunity while others would provide prearranged fires.31 Engaging targets of 

opportunity required an extensive communication network that linked the 

observers with the firing unit.32 While these fires were more difficult to 

coordinate and less responsive, they provided the much needed flexibility 

to engage an ever-elusive target set.

Underpinning the execution of fire planning was the ability to acquire 

targets for both prearranged fires and targets of opportunity. The integration of forward observers at the tactical level and the observation battalions and observation aircraft at higher levels was essential to providing 

integrated targeting and accurate target locations for execution. Each of 

these elements played a unique role in synchronizing effective massed 

fire and providing accurate target data throughout the defenses in Korea. 

During the Korean conflict, forward observers were resident to the artillery formations with a section in the divisional artillery for each maneuver 

battalion.33 Representing their maneuver elements, they refined and nominated targets for preplanned artillery fires and effectively integrated them 

into the defensive plans. These observers were skilled in calling fires for 

targets of opportunity as well as directing close air support. They served as 

a direct link between the maneuver battalions and the direct support artillery headquarters. Whereas the observers were the link with direct support 

artillery headquarters, the Observation Battalion was the link with non-divisional and corps artillery headquarters.

Observation battalions provided additional observation capabilities 

beyond what the forward observers provided. During World War II, the 

corps observation battalions provided limited coverage due to the wide 

frontages and robust corps zones. Post-war organization increased the 

number of observation batteries in the battalions from two to three as well 

as provided a counter-mortar radar platoon to each battery to better meet 

the requirements for wide front.34 Observation battalions were responsible for six principle missions: Location of hostile artillery, registration 

and adjustment of friendly artillery, collection of information, conduct 

and coordination of corps artillery survey operations, comparative calibration of friendly artillery, and provision of ballistic meteorological 

data for friendly artillery and for sound ranging.35 Unfortunately, the First 

Field Artillery Observation Battalion would be the only one available in 

theater until 1953.36 This left the forward observers and observation aircraft to do most of the observation.
128

The Korean topography was not ideal for quickly moving artillery 

units and supplies throughout the battlefield. The harsh landscape, inadequate improved roads, and extreme weather conditions restricted maneuver and limited logistical support.37 The ability to quickly mass fires 

and protect the artillery laid in the flexibility of the artillery formations to 

meet the challenges posed by the terrain. Tactical mobility was the ability of the artillery formations to keep up with maneuver and traverse the 

terrain to maintain direct support artillery fires for maneuver.38 Strategic 

mobility was the ability to quickly reposition artillery formations throughout the theater of operations to support the decisive operation, as well 

as providing the logistical train associated with drastically repositioning 

forces.39 Strategic and tactical mobility in the Korean War required a mix 

of self-propelled and towed systems. Self-propelled artillery was a huge 

advantage for tactical mobility in the Korean War because of its ability 

to traverse rough terrain over the large fronts.40 However, towed systems 

were lighter, easier to emplace and conceal, and were generally perceived 

as more strategically mobile.41 The static nature of the defense in Korea 

coupled with the rugged terrain led to relying on the tactical mobility of 

the self-propelled systems that only existed in the non-divisional artillery 

formations. This allowed the corps the flexibility and mobility to quickly 

reinforce and augment divisional massed fires throughout the conflict. The 

mobility and range of self-propelled artillery made it possible to engage 

targets from greater distances and then quickly withdraw before coming 

into direct contact with the enemy.42 Unfortunately, these systems were in 

short supply during the Korean War.

Up to April 1951, ammunition shortages restricted the number of 

rounds that artillery units could fire daily. The Army lifted this restriction 

just prior to the Battle of the Soyang River in May 1951 which enabled 

the artillery to finally operate at full capacity. Artillery Fire Support Officers planned prearranged fires for known concentrations of enemy forces, likely avenues of approach, and bridges across the Soyang. Artillery 

headquarters selected artillery units for execution of these fires in accordance with the plan. When the Chinese attacked on 12 May, the artillery 

units targeted enemy groups of 200 to 500 men with concentrated fires and 

achieved tremendous effects. 

During the preparation of the defense of the Soyang River, the vast 

area between the main defensive line and the concentration of Chinese 

forces during the defense required combat patrols to operate well ahead of 

the defensive line to maintain contact with the enemy. The artillery battalions established advanced positions outside of the defensive lines in order 
129

to support these patrols. These positions necessitated the tactical mobility 

of the battalions to occupy and withdraw quickly in support of the maneuver formations. Ultimately, these conditions led to many lessons learned in 

the employment of massed fire.43

The Battle of Soyang River reinforced the lessons of massed fires 

learned throughout the Korean War. One of the keys to the success of UN 

forces in Korea was their ability to mass fires on targets of opportunity. 

The flexibility of massing fires on targets of opportunity provided the UN 

forces with a marked advantage in this respect. While neither MacArthur 

nor Ridgeway would ever receive all the artillery that they requested for the 

theater, they would make the best use of what they had.44 Artillery leaders 

accomplished the effects of massed fires through preplanned and synchronized targeting at the divisional and non-divisional levels; the flexibility to 

mass fires on targets of opportunity through accurate target locating and 

mobility to position artillery forces to achieve those devastating effects.

Using Artillery in the Defense: Unity of Command 

Non-divisional artillery battalions were in high demand throughout 

the duration of the Korean conflict because of the need to reinforce existing divisional artillery battalions and provide flexibility for the corps.45

As the Army scrambled to fulfill this need, what became noticeable was 

the lack of continuity in the command and control of the non-divisional 

elements. In July 1950, the 92nd Armored Field Artillery Battalion left its 

parent unit, the 2nd Armored Division, to deploy as a separate battalion of 

the 5th Field Artillery Group, the only acting corps artillery headquarters 

in Korea at the time. For the remainer of the year, the 92nd Field Artillery 

Battalion participated in the Inchon amphibious assault, the Iwon amphibious landing, and the X Corps’ defense in the northeastern sector of the 

peninsula after the Chinese intervention. The battalion’s missions ranged 

from serving under direct centralized control by the 5th Field Artillery 

Group to an artillery reinforcement for the divisions under decentralized 

control. The battalion never maintained a habitual relationship with one 

command for longer than a month. This was the normal life of a non-divisional artillery battalion in Korea.46

During the Korean War, Field Manual 100-5 defined unity of command 

as “that unity of effort which is essential to the decisive application of the 

full combat power of the available forces.”47 Additionally, “unity of effort 

is furthered by full cooperation between the elements of command.”48 The 

first definition linked the ability to mass fires on the battlefield to the control of the artillery commander and the second with the ability of artillery 
130

and maneuver commanders to synchronize these effects. Artillery in Korea 

required an organizational command structure that allowed artillerymen to 

synchronize efforts and mass fires within their span of control while also 

meeting the needs of maneuver. To support the maneuver requirements, artillery commanders assigned specific roles or missions to the artillery units 

that explained the relationship of their support to the maneuver unit.49 Another aspect of unity of command was the command relationships between 

artillery commanders and their supported unit commanders.50 Organizationally, the Army classified artillery battalions as divisional battalions and 

non-divisional battalions. Divisional artillery battalions were “organic, assigned, or attached to the division.”51 Non-divisional artillery units formed 

a pool of battalions that the Army combined and centrally controlled by a 

group or corps headquarters or decentrally controlled by assigning them 

supporting roles within a division. This required non-divisional artillery 

battalions to move throughout the Korean theater, being assigned to different corps or groups in direct support, general support and reinforcing 

roles for all echelons from corps to battalion. These roles helped ensure a 

mutual understanding of responsibility of artillery commanders and their 

supporting relationship with the maneuver commanders. While this provided flexibility for allocating artillery resources, what was missing was 

a lasting relationship between non-divisional artillery battalions and their 

higher headquarters as well as their supported maneuver headquarters.52

Prior to the Korean War, artillery officers recommended creating an 

artillery division to organize non-divisional battalions that had their own 

organic artillery divided into groups and regiments that allowed the corps 

the flexibility to reallocate groups without losing continuity. However, 

when the Army implemented the reforms, they assigned organic artillery 

battalions to the group, but only semi-permanently attached the group to 

corps. The corps could then attach the group to a division in a supporting 

role. Ultimately, the Army assigned non-divisional battalions permanently 

for continuity and decreased fluctuation, while retaining flexibility within 

the corps. This was the only change to the organization of non-divisional 

artillery; the group remained the primary organizational method of employing non-divisional artillery.53

Aside from organizational changes, a key part of unity of command 

in the Korean War was the command responsibilities of the artillery commanders. Generally, in armies, corps, divisions, and task forces, the senior 

artilleryman was the commander of the organically assigned artillery units 

as well as the artillery officer on the special staff of the supported unit to 

advise the commander and staff on artillery matters and fire support coor-
131

dination.54 Doctrinally, artillery commanders only had command authority 

over the battalions that were organic to their headquarters. With the new 

group concept, this meant that corps artillery commanders did not have 

direct command over the group artillery and the groups did not have direct 

command over the divisional artillery.55 This did not alleviate the artillery 

commander’s responsibility to synchronize the effects of artillery within 

their maneuver headquarters, regardless of the echelon. One of the major 

developments during the interwar period to assist in this synchronization 

was the fire support coordination center.

Doctrine required army, corps, and division and task force artillery 

commanders at each level to “establish and supervise the fire support coordination center as fire support coordinator for the command.”56 Therefore, 

during the Korean War, artilleryman established formal fire support coordination centers at all corps and division fire direction centers, and subordinate artilleryman carried the concept to the infantry regimental and battalion 

levels.57 In the fire support coordination center, artilleryman planned and 

synchronized air support, naval gunfire and artillery, and responded to targets of opportunity with the available means. This allowed units to de-conflict close air support and artillery fires and integrated the artillery observer 

into the process of determining the best asset to engage a given target.58

During the “Pusan Perimeter” defense, the only available artillery 

units were divisional artillery units.59 Even as non-divisional artillery battalions entered the theater, they were attached as general support or reinforcing units for the divisions, only adding to the span of control for the 

division artillery commander. Artillerymen could only mass fires at the 

division level due to the absence of a corps artillery headquarters and the 

lack of non-divisional artillery battalions and often, due to the wide dispersion of units, this was difficult to accomplish. Each corps was authorized 

an artillery officer and small staff, but they had no command authority or 

capability to adequately synchronize fires across the corps.60

Initially, the X Corps utilized the 5th Field Artillery Group as its corps 

artillery headquarters due to the lack of a corps artillery staff. During the 

initial phases of the Korean War, the 5th Field Artillery Group served as 

the best example of employing and controlling non-divisional battalions. 

They controlled their two organic battalions directly as well as synchronized the artillery efforts within X Corps. During the push to the Chinese 

border in October and November 1950, they decentralized artillery employment to the divisions in order to keep up with the offense. As the Chinese launched offenses to push the X Corps back to the 38th Parallel, the 

5th Field Artillery Group centralized the control of artillery to maximize 
132

the effectiveness of the withdrawal.61 I Corps Artillery was the first official 

corps artillery headquarters to arrive in theater in February 1951 and by 

March, IX Corps Artillery arrived.62 As more non-divisional battalions entered the theater, corps artillery commanders and their staffs could better 

reallocate and control how the attached units would support the overall 

corps fire plans. As the nature of the war transitioned to more of a static 

defense, artillery commanders placed even more emphasis on centrally coordinating and allocating non-divisional artillery to best disrupt the communist attacks.63

Unity of command of artillery forces in Korea centered on the flexible organizational structure of the groups, the command authorities and 

responsibilities of the artillery commanders, and the mission roles of 

the individual artillery battalions. Organizationally, the artillery group 

concept worked because it provided some continuity in command to the 

non-divisional artillery battalions while retaining the flexibility to move 

non-divisional units between corps and divisions. The concept still required a corps artillery headquarters to nest the non-divisional and divisional fire plans within the maneuver fire planning. Synchronization 

of artillery forces across the theater of operations required fire support 

coordination centers at all levels to coordinate artillery and integrate air 

support across a wide front. These centers served as the medium for more 

effective command and control.

Using Artillery in the Defense: Security

By September 1950, the North Koreans had confined the UN forces to the Pusan Perimeter and were pressing to disrupt the defense along 

the Naktong River. The 35th Infantry Regiment of the 25th Infantry Division was the division’s right flank and the division was responsible for the 

southwestern portion of the Pusan Perimeter. On 3 September 1950, North 

Korean Forces launched an attack against the 35th Infantry line. The 64th 

Field Artillery Battalion was in direct support of the 35th Infantry and had 

established localized defenses around each of the battery position areas 

because they were keenly aware that they were responsible for their own 

defenses given the likelihood of enemy infiltration. Early that morning, the 

first sergeant of A Battery, 64th Field Artillery noticed a small element of 

men moving toward their position.

Before he could identify the element, they opened machine gun fire on 

the American position. Additional fires from all directions accompanied 

the initial attack. Before the men of A Battery could respond, the enemy 

killed five men, wounded one and destroyed the battery communications 
133

switchboard. At this point, A Battery’s howitzers stopped all fire missions 

as the machine gun fire turned on their positions. By the time that A Battery returned machine gun fire, they realized that it was too late; the North 

Koreans had completely infiltrated its position. Some of the howitzers responded with direct fire against the infiltrators, but to no avail. The howitzers were lost until recovered later that morning.64

Figure 7.3. US Army 105-mm howitzer in action west of Yongsan, Korea, on 

1 September 1950. Photo courtesy of US Army Center of Military History.
134

This example was not the first time that the enemy overran an American 

artillery formation in the war. The 63rd Field Artillery Battalion experienced the same type of event in July 1950, south of the Kum River.65 In 

fact, artillery units were overrun close to a dozen times during the first nine 

months of the war.66 With the limited amount of artillery deployed to theater, 

this became an operational level problem. The impact of the linear nature of 

World War II conditioned artillery units to rely on the safety of the contiguous front. This left artillery units unprepared to defend against the threat 

of North Koreans and Chinese infiltration that required mutually supporting 

defensive positions.67 By the end of the Korean War, the US Army artillery 

units learned valuable lessons in protecting their vulnerable formations.

At the beginning of the Korean War, doctrine developed during World 

War II favored the offensive nature of warfare to annihilate the enemy. 

This did not fit well within the defensive nature of the limited war in Korea.68 By 1953, artillery doctrine described the defense of an artillery position in terms of the batteries responsibility to protect their position. “All 

units prepare their positions for defense against enemy ground attack with 

particular attention to antitank defense. Units must be prepared to counter 

airborne attacks, guerrilla action, and infiltration.” Additionally, the manual advocated training artillery units in infantry tactics and delivery of artillery direct fire in support of the battery defense, though it was only specific 

to airborne operations.69 Ultimately, the defense of the battery position was 

the responsibility of the artillerymen. Artillery commanders understood 

the need to develop mutually supporting battery positions and integrating 

them with maneuver, but the lack of training in this respect during the interwar period made this difficult to accomplish.70

As the war progressed, North Korean and Chinese infiltration tactics 

exploited the weakness of artillery defenses and the breadth of the American’s defense.71 “Infiltrating enemy units frequently occupied positions 

to the Americans’ rear, striking command posts, support units or artillery 

positions.”72 Later, the United States built more depth into their defenses and integrated the artillery position defense with maneuver forces. By 

the end of the conflict, the vulnerability of artillery formations was much 

improved. The Army learned two major lessons: batteries must be able 

to defend themselves, and the battalion must integrate a mutually supporting defense plan with maneuver. General Almond expanded on these 

areas adding, “Automatic weapons within artillery units must be ready 

at all times to defend their positions whether on the move or in position. 

Destruction of artillery units is a primary enemy objective. All units must 
135

stress defense against infiltration tactics, train for anti-guerrilla measures 

and be prepared for all-around defense.”73

Conclusion 

The elements of mass, unity of effort and security characterized effective defensive operational artillery employment during the Korean War. 

The ability to synchronize the effects of multiple divisional and non-divisional artillery battalions within the corps, groups, and divisions required 

a command and control relationship structure that facilitated a coordinated 

artillery defense. Faced with an enemy that favored infiltration tactics and 

the overall nature of defensive operations, the American and UN commanders recognized the importance of adequately securing artillery positions. Today, applying these same characteristics to the Army’s current 

ability to provide adequate fire support in large-scale combat operations 

provides key insight into its preparation for future wars.

The concept of massed fires was not new to the Korean conflict. However, technological advances in the interwar period contributed to improved methods of target acquisition and communication between observers and the guns. The necessity to compensate for the lack of artillery units 

with concentrated fires honed the artillery system to prioritize prearrangement of targets in the defense. Target acquisition improvements allowed 

UN forces to engage targets of opportunity more readily. Additionally, the 

need to reallocate and redistribute non-divisional artillery battalions required strategic and tactical mobility to respond to the Communist threat. 

Ultimately, the UN’s advantage over North Korean and Chinese forces 

was their ability to mass fires on targets of opportunity.

Unity of command for artillery units during the Korean War reflected the desire to combine the flexibility of the group concept of World 

War II while providing continuity for non-divisional battalions within the 

groups. The corps centralized control during static defensive operations 

and decentralized control to the divisions during offensive maneuver. 

During the defensive, centralized control allowed commanders to better 

synchronize the effects of massed fires and allowed the corps flexibility to 

respond to the largest threats. These concepts will be essential to coordinating artillery units in the future especially without an artillery headquarters above the brigade level.

Security of artillery units in the beginning of the Korean War was 

woefully inadequate. In the beginning of the conflict, artillerymen expected conflict to be similar to the linear battle during World War II. However, 
136

due to the enemy tactics of infiltration, they quickly realized that the artillery battalions had to defend themselves. Integrated battery defense plans 

nested within the maneuver defense improved throughout the conflict. 

Ultimately, by the end of the conflict, artillery battalions adjusted their 

methods to respond to security challenges.

Today, artillery doctrine still addresses each of these critical areas. The 

characterizations of mass are increased lethality, longer ranges, better target 

acquisition technology, and precision munitions. It could be said that advent of precision guiding munitions has somewhat changed the concept of 

massed fires by reducing the reliance on multiple artillery units to achieve 

desired effects. Regardless, the army’s current artillery organization lacks 

the ability to integrate multiple battalions at the division level and higher. 

The fact that contemporary doctrine addresses the aspects of mass, 

unity of command and security does not mean that the artillery units can 

actually perform the concepts well. Much like during the start of the Korean War, the current US Army’s ability to execute all doctrinal artillery 

tasks such as massed fires is lacking. This is not necessarily for the same 

reasons as during the Korean War. Sound written doctrine does not necessarily mean that the army’s artillery units can actually execute it. The last 

decade of counterinsurgency operations have certainly influenced the artillery’s ability to mass fires above the battalion level. Today, an argument 

can be made that the artillery is unprepared to mass fires against a near 

peer army during large-scale combat operations. The degradation in the artillery’s ability to mass fires and secure itself is due to the last ten years of 

conflict but adequate training can fix it. The aspect of unity of command, 

however, is a completely different problem.

Effective unity of command for artillery units must be able to accomplish a number of functions. Commanders must be able to control subordinate artillery elements and the artillery must be organized to effectively 

integrate with maneuver and synchronize the concentration of artillery 

throughout the entire theater of operations. The major change in unity of 

command since the Korean War for divisional artillery is the elimination 

of the division artillery headquarters from the current army structure. In 

fact, there is no command headquarters for artillery units above the brigade level. The Army eliminated the division artillery and transferred the 

role of synchronizing divisional artillery fires to the Chief of Field Artillery in the division headquarters and above. However, the Chief of Field 

Artillery has no command authority over any artillery battalions.
137

The US Army Field Artillery made great contributions to the overall 

success achieved by UN forces in the Korean War. The doctrinal concepts 

of mass, unity of command, and security evolved during the three years 

of conflict, and these concepts will continue to evolve as the Army shifts 

its focus to the conduct of large-scale combat operations against a nearpeer threat. Artillerymen must ask themselves if they are prepared to execute these functions in a similar situation such as Korea. Has the artillery 

trained enough at massing fires above the battalion level? Is the Army’s 

current unity of command adequate to synchronize the artillery of multiple divisions? And, do artillery battalions know how to adequately secure 

their formations during the conduct of large-scale combat operations?
138

Notes

1. Bevin Alexander, Korea: The First War We Lost (New York: Hippocrene 

Books, 1993), 135–36, 140–42; Roy E. Appleman, South to the Naktong, North 

to the Yalu (Washington, DC: US Government Printing, 1961), 248, 282–83, 

343.

2. Janice E. McKenney, Organizational History of Field Artillery 1775–

2003 (Washington, DC: United States Army Center of Military History, 2007), 

201. 

3. US Department of the Army, Field Manual (FM) 6-20, Artillery Tactics 

and Techniques (Washington, DC: 1953), 35.

4. US Army, Conference on Battle Employment of Artillery in Korea (Fort 

Sill, OK: Artillery Center, 11 February 1952), 9.

5. US Army, Conference on Battle Employment of Artillery in Korea, 9.

6. Stanford Research Institute, Operational Data for Selected Field Artillery Units During World War II and The Korean War (Stanford, CA: Stanford 

Research Institute, 1954), 1.

7.Peter J. Lane, “Steel for Bodies: Ammunition Readiness during the Korean War” (Master’s thesis, Command and General Staff College, 2003), 27. 

8. William Glenn Robertson, “The Korean War: The United Nations’ Response to Heavy Bombardment,” in CSI Report No. 13: Tactical Responses to 

Concentrated Artillery, by Combat Studies Institute (Fort Leavenworth, KS: US 

Army Command and General Staff College, n.d.), 109–11.

9. Appleman, South to the Naktong, 241–249; George C. Herring, From 

Colony to Superpower: US Foreign Relations since 1776 (New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2008), 639–641.

10. Allan R. Millett, The War for Korea, 1950–1951: They Came From 

the North (Lawrence, KS: University Press of Kansas, 2010), 240; Walter G. 

Hermes, Truce Tent and Fighting Front (Washington, DC: Office of the Chief of 

Military History, United States Army, 1966), 10–14. 

11. Millett, 384–387, 390–403, 411–16; Herring, From Colony to Superpower, 642.

12. Millett, 384–387, 390–403, 411–16; Herring, 642.

13. Operational artillery is the employment of non-divisional artillery assets 

to support the arrangement of tactical actions in time, space and purpose to 

achieve the operational or strategic objective.

14. Walter E. Kretchik, US Army Doctrine: From the American Revolution 

to the War on Terror (Lawrence, KS: University of Kansas Press, 2011), 164.

15. Boyd L. Dastrup, The Field Artillery: History and Sourcebook (Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1994), 243.

16. John D. Dill, Fire Support in the Pusan Perimeter (Fort Leavenworth, 

KS: US Army Command and General Staff College, 2000), 3.

17. Robert A. Doughty, The Evolution of US Army Tactical Doctrine, 

1946–76 (Fort Leavenworth, KS: Combat Studies Institute, US Army Command 

and General Staff College, 1979), 7–12.
139

18. A Chinese Army Group consisted of three divisions and approximately 

30,000 soldiers. A North Korean Corps consisted of three to four understrength 

divisions and approximately 17,000 soldiers.

19. Millett, The War for Korea, 443–445; Russell A. Gugeler, Army Historical Series: Combat Actions in Korea, (Washington DC: US Army Center of 

Military History, 1987), 167; X Corps Artillery Report, “Battle of the Soyang 

River: An Analysis of Artillery Support, X Corps Sector, 1 May–29 May 1951.”

20. Early ammunition restrictions were based on World War II expenditure rates and modified to compensate for the lack of available ammunition in 

theater. As more ammunition became available, UN forces were able to increase 

these rates.

21. Department of the Army, Field Manual (FM) 100-5, Operations (Washington, DC: 1949), 22.

22. A doctrinal definition is a commonly understood and agreed upon description of a term or concept that appears in a military manual.

23. Although published in 1953 as doctrine, the technique of massed fires 

was in use throughout the Korean War; Department of the Army, Field Manual 

(FM) 6-20, Artillery Tactics and Techniques (Washington, DC: 1953), 33.

24. Thomas S. Grodecki, “From Powder River to Soyang: The 300th Armored Field Artillery in Korea,” (Washington, DC: Center of Military History), 

71.

25. D.M. Giangreco, Korean War Anthology: Artillery in Korea: Massing 

Fires and Reinventing the Wheel (Fort Leavenworth, KS: US Government Printing Office, 2003), 7.

26. Department of the Army, FM 6-20, 136.

27. FM 6-20, 136.

28. FM 6-20, 138.

29. McKenney, Organizational History, 206. 

30. US Army, Conference on the Battle Employment of the Artillery 

1950–1951 (1952), 4.

31. Department of the Army, FM 6-20, 140–41.

32. Dastrup, The Field Artillery, 253.

33. McKenney, Organizational History, 190. 

34. McKenney, 194.

35. Department of the Army, Field Manual (FM) 6-120, The Field Artillery 

Observation Battalion and Batteries (Washington, DC: 1951), 1-3.

36. McKenney, Organizational History, 200. 

37. James F. Schnabel, Policy and Direction: The First Year (Washington, 

DC: US Government Printing Office, 1973), 1.

38. A.C. Bole Jr., “Towed Versus Self-Propelled Artillery in the Period 

Prior to 1955: An Historical Investigation of the Argument in the United States 

Army,” (Fort Leavenworth: Command and General Staff College, 1966), 14.

39. While A.C. Bole uses the terms tactical and strategic mobility to define 

the characteristics of artillery mobility at the time, strategic mobility can also 

be understood as operational maneuver today. A.C. Bole Jr., “Towed Versus 
140

Self-Propelled Artillery in the Period Prior to 1955: An Historical Investigation 

of the Argument in the United States Army,” 15.

40. Bole, “Towed Versus Self-Propelled,” 54–55.

41. Bole, 49.

42. Grodecki, “From Powder River to Soyang,” 67–68.

43. US Army, “Conference on the Battle Employment of the Artillery 

1950–1951.” 1952, 2–3.

44. Robertson, “The Korean War,” 107–17.

45. Millett, The War for Korea, 153–54.

46. Millett, 153–154.

47. Department of the Army, FM 100-5, 22.

48. FM 100-5, 22.

49. “Direct support artillery has the mission of supporting a specific unit of 

a command . . . is not attached to the supported unit, it remains under the command of the higher artillery commander, but its fires are not taken away from 

the supported unit except by the authority of the division or force commander. . 

. . General support artillery has the mission of supporting the force as a whole. 

Units with such a mission are held under the command of the artillery commander thus making immediately available to the force commander a reserve 

of fire with which to influence the action... A reinforcing mission requires the 

reinforcing artillery unit to augment the fires of the reinforced artillery unit on 

call.” Department of the Army, FM 6-20, 37.

50. “When the artillery is assigned or attached to the force (supported unit), 

the artillery officer is both a subordinate command and a special staff officer 

of the force (supported unit) commander. When artillery is neither assigned 

nor attached to the force but is supporting the force, the artillery commander’s 

relationship to the force commander is both that of an advisor and that of an 

independent commander obliged to render continuous effective fire support in 

accordance with his assigned mission.” Department of the Army, FM 6-20, 10.

51. Department of the Army, FM 6-20, 8.

52. Grodecki, “From Powder River to Soyang,” 72–74, 90.

53. McKenney, Organizational History, 195.

54. Department of the Army, FM 6-20, 10.

55. FM 6-20, 10.

56. FM 6-20, 13.

57. McKenney, Organizational History, 205.

58. Dastrup, The Field Artillery: History and Sourcebook, 259; Russell Wallace Jr., “For Battlefield Teamwork: Fire Support Coordination Center,” Combat 

Forces Journal, May 1953, 24–26; Carl W. Schaad, “Fire Support Coordination,” Combat Forces Journal, September 1952, 39–41; Eighth Army, “A Study 

of the Employment and Effectiveness of the Artillery with the Eighth Army 

during the period, October 1951–July 1953,” 1954, 7–8.

59. Russell A. Weathersby, “The Field Artillery Group in Support of the 

Corps and Field Army, 1942–1953,” Thesis, US Army Command and General 
141

Staff College, 1966, 126; McKenney, Organizational History, 196–97; Schnabel, 

Policy and Direction, 90–92.

60. Russell A. Weathersby, “The Field Artillery Group in Support of the 

Corps and Field Army, 1942–1953,” 126–127; Department of the Army, The 

Artillery School, ”Report of the Artillery School Representative, AFF Observer 

team No. 2 Concerning Korean Campaign, September to October 1950, Inclusive, “27 November 1950, 134–41.

61. Russell A. Weathersby, “The Field Artillery Group in Support of the 

Corps and Field Army, 1942–953,” 130.

62. Weathersby, 133.

63. Weathersby, 133–35.

64. Gugeler, Army Historical Series, 31–38.

65. Appleman, South to the Naktong, 126–28; Giangreco, Korean War 

Anthology, 3–5. 

66. Giangreco, Korean War Anthology, 1.

67. Giangreco, 1, 5; Dastrup, The Field Artillery, 228–29, 242–43, 247, 25; 

Edward T. Klett Jr., “Solving the 6400-mil Nemesis,” Combat Forces Journal,

July 1951, 34.

68. Walter E. Kretchik, US Army Doctrine: From the American Revolution 

to the War on Terror, (Lawrence, KS: University Press of Kansas, 2011), 158; 

Scott R. McMeen, “Field Artillery Doctrine Development 1917–1945,” Command and General Staff College, 1991, 48.

69. Department of the Army, FM 6-20, 93.

70. Giangreco, Korean War Anthology, 5.

71. Dastrup, The Field Artillery, 255; Giangreco, Korean War Anthology, 3.

72. Doughty, The Evolution of US Army Tactical Doctrine, 7–8.

73. US Army, Conference on the Battle Employment of the Artillery 

1950–1951, 1952, 9.

143

Chapter 8

US Army Artillery in the Vietnam War

Boyd L. Dastrup

After eight years of fighting to preserve its colonial empire, France 

finally suffered defeat at the hands of Ho Chi Minh, an ardent Vietnamese 

nationalist and communist, when Dien Bien Phu fell in March 1954. This 

along with communist rhetoric about picking up the banner of nationalism 

by supporting wars of liberation influenced the United States to consider 

sending troops. Provisional agreements reached at Geneva, Switzerland, 

prevented this, divided the country at the seventeenth parallel, and scheduled reunification to come through a general election in July 1956.1

Fearing that the communists would eventually gain power, the 

United States began pouring in economic and military aid to buttress 

South Vietnam against subversion by the Viet Cong, a contraction of 

Vietnamese Communists, and the threat of invasion by North Vietnam. 

Although the Army had been sending advisors to Vietnam since the 

early 1950s, President John F. Kennedy’s decision in the spring of 1961 

to increase the American commitment greatly expanded the Army’s 

advisory effort. As quickly as the Army could train advisory teams, it 

dispatched them to South Vietnam. Each field artillery advisory team 

included an officer, generally a captain, and a senior noncommissioned 

officer that was assigned to an artillery battalion in South Vietnamese 

divisions and corps. While the officer provided guidance to improve 

overall unit effectiveness, the noncommissioned officer assisted the 

battalion operations officer and operations noncommissioned officer 

in training firing batteries and gun sections. In the meantime, an American artillery officer, normally a major, was assigned to each corps and 

division to counsel senior South Vietnamese commanders on artillery 

matters and coordinated the efforts of the advisory teams in subordinate battalions. Although the Americans faced soldiers with a different 

set of values, they produced a better led and trained South Vietnamese 

artillery by 1965 than the one encountered in 1961.2

In the meantime, North Vietnam built a military force to gain control of Vietnam. By the early 1960s North Vietnam had a formidable army 

that had been organized, equipped, and trained along Chinese lines and 

that relied upon stealth and foot mobility. North Vietnamese divisions had 

around ten thousand lightly armed and equipped men with a ready reserve 

of approximately 500,000 men. To compensate for the lack of firepower 
144

the North Vietnamese stressed rigorous discipline, tactical superiority, and 

careful preparation. The Viet Cong gave the North Vietnamese another tool 

to bring down the South Vietnamese government by infiltrating South Vietnam and conducting sabotage, terrorist, and propaganda campaigns.3

Encouraged by the deaths of Ngo Dinh Diem, the premier of South 

Vietnam, and President Kennedy, North Vietnam intensified its political 

and military offensive against South Vietnam in 1964.4

 To meet the external threat the Army abandoned its defensive strategy for aggressive 

offensive actions.5 After a series of limited offensives, General William 

Westmoreland, Commander, US Military Assistance Command, Vietnam, 

opened a campaign to counter North Vietnamese moves to cut South Vietnam in half. After an attack on a Special Forces camp at Plei Me in October 

1965, he sent the 1st Air Cavalry Division (Airmobile) under Major General Harry W.O. Kinnard to destroy the retreating North Vietnamese units 

responsible for the assault.6

The Battle of the Ia Drang Valley

Late in October 1965, the 1st Cavalry Division moved into the Ia 

Drang Valley. After several days of searching, the 1-9 Cavalry bumped 

into the enemy on 1 November. As the fighting grew hotter, the 1st Cavalry quickly concentrated by using the helicopter’s mobility, defeated the 

North Vietnamese, and forced them to retreat. That same day, 1-9 Cavalry’s airborne scouts spotted a battalion-size enemy force advancing 

towards the recent fight. The scouts fired on the North Vietnamese. 

Without any artillery support the 1-9 Cavalry along with reinforcements 

airlifted into the battle area repeatedly repulsed enemy assaults. The 

enemy’s proximity to American troops precluded aerial artillery from 

being employed, while tube artillery was out of range. On 3 November 

the 1-9 Cavalry squadron began conducting a reconnaissance-in-force 

along the Cambodian border. After establishing a patrol base, it staked 

out ambushes to catch North Vietnamese units fleeing to safety. That 

night the North Vietnamese ferociously hit the 1-9 Cavalry. Aerial artillery and a dogged defense turned back many enemy attacks. Outside of 

aerial artillery, the 1st Cavalry’s field artillery provided minimal support. The short, intense battles fought at distances beyond towed artillery’s range simply precluded any help.7

During the second week of November, both sides opened offensives 

to gain control of the Ia Drang Valley. On 14 November, CH47 Chinook 

helicopter airlifts placed two batteries at Landing Zone Falcon to support 

the 1-7 Cavalry’s offensive at Landing Zone X-Ray. Gun crews concentrat-
145

ed their fire around the landing zone. As tube artillery lifted its fire, aerial 

artillery blasted the area to allow the infantry to land. This action totally 

disrupted North Vietnamese plans to attack Plei Me and put them on the 

defensive. Even though they were surprised, the North Vietnamese slugged 

the Americans viciously with small arms, rocket, and mortar fire. To repel 

the assaults the Americans airlifted in reinforcements throughout the day 

under the cover of artillery fire from landing Zone Falcon. These bombardments along with small arms fire broke up several attacks during the 

day. Throughout the night the North Vietnamese continued their attempt to 

defeat the Americans, but intensive fire from the two batteries at Landing 

Zone Falcon and aggressive fighting by the cavalry repulsed the charges.8

The battle at X-Ray carried on over the next two days. On the fifteenth the North Vietnamese repeatedly assaulted the Americans, Small 

arms fire became so intense that the forward observer from the most 

hard-pressed American company was pinned down and could not call 

in artillery fire. Fortunately, the artillery officer located back at 1-7’s 

command post could see the fighting, adjusted artillery fire, and directed aerial artillery attacks and tactical air strikes. Despite effective air 

Figure 8.1. US Army CH-47 delivers ammunition to a combined 105-mm and 155-

mm howitzer battery in Vietnam. Photo courtesy of The Center of Military History.
146

and artillery support, the enemy closed in on the perimeter and assailed 

it from all directions. Using colored smoke rounds to identify the precise outline of his perimeter, Lieutenant Colonel Harold G. Moore, 

the 1-7 Infantry battalion commander, called for additional artillery 

support. Heavily armed helicopter gunships entered the fray, while the 

two batteries at Landing Zone Falcon and two at Landing Zone Columbus laid down a devastating shield of iron. This combination broke the 

enemy’s attacks for the day. The following day, the North Vietnamese 

renewed their assaults but ran into a curtain of artillery rounds. Using 

this as protection, the Americans then pushed towards the North Vietnamese, who retreated.9

On 17 November, the 2-7 Cavalry and the 2-5 Cavalry, which had 

joined Moore’s command on the 15th at X-Ray, moved on a sweep 

north to cut off North Vietnamese elements moving towards Columbus 

and Falcon. The 2-5 Cavalry arrived at Columbus without contacting 

the enemy, but the 2-7 Cavalry were ambushed en-route to Landing 

Zone Albany by several North Vietnamese units. The engagement 

quickly deteriorated into a wild melee. Unable to distinguish between

friend and foe, gun crews from Landing Zone Columbus and airmen 

waited patiently four hours before they could respond. In mid-afternoon aerial and tube artillery and tactical air support joined the fight. 

Although the enemy applied pressure into the evening, a continuous 

ring of artillery shells and tactical air strikes prevented the Vietnamese 

from further penetrations of the perimeters. Unable to take such punishment, the North Vietnamese finally abandoned their drive to destroy 

the artillery that had been so destructive at X-Ray. The North Vietnamese hit Columbus with mortar and machine gun fire on 18 November 

and battled the Americans at several other locations, but the fighting at 

Albany marked the last of major combat in the Ia Drang.10

Lessons Learned from the Ia Drang

After the Battle of Ia Drang, General Kinnard had nothing but

praise for his field artillery. “Using Chinooks, we had been able to position 

tube artillery in the midst of a literally trackless jungle where it provided 

close support to our infantry and gave them a vital measure of superiority,” 

Kinnard wrote in Army in 1967.11 Besides lauding tube artillery, he boasted 

that aerial artillery had matured in the Ia Drang by supplementing tube artillery and in some cases providing the only firepower. Taking his argument 

even further, Kinnard insisted that the 1st Cavalry lured the enemy into 

battle by teasing it with a “seemingly unprotected airmobile infantry bat-
147

talion.”12 Once the enemy struck, the 1st Cavalry hit it hard with “massive 

artillery support.”13 Simply stated, the battles of Ia Drang vindicated the 

airmobile concept and showed the field artillery’s capacity to provide close 

support in difficult terrain.14

Lieutenant Colonel Lloyd J. Picou of the 1st Cavalry’s artillery responded with the same enthusiasm. Writing in Artillery Trends in August 1967, Picou explained that airmobile artillery proved its versatility 

and mobility, its ability to displace quickly, and its mastery of airmobile 

artillery techniques.15 The following year, Picou explained in Military Review,“From the division artillery viewpoint, the most significant outcome 

of this campaign [Ia Drang] was the use of aerial artillery.”16 Aerial artillery gunships flew to the scene and were able to locate and attack enemy 

forces. Pilots contacted ground units and then adjusted tube artillery on 

the fringes of the battlefield. As his article indicated, he believed that the 

field artillery had made a significant breakthrough with aerial artillery 

because it provided effective support to airmobile units.17

The Army and 1st Cavalry Division drew two more conclusions. Both 

pointed out that operations in the Ia Drang revealed the importance of having mutually supporting field artillery positions. Towed 105-mm howitzers 

could not be used in a direct fire role on a landing zone surrounded by dense vegetation without causing extensive casualties to the security force. To protect one 

landing zone and its batteries, the field artillery had to site at least two batteries within range of each other. Because of guerrilla warfare, commanders 

simply could not position their field artillery without adequate protection.18

In their efforts to justify airmobile operations, Kinnard and other officers overlooked an important weakness. During the short but intensive battles on 1–3 November between small forces, tube artillery failed to furnish 

any support because it was out of range of the fights whereas aerial artillery rushed quickly forward to hit enemy units. Even though it was transported by helicopter, tube artillery lacked sufficient mobility to respond 

to fast-moving situations. This meant that the infantry and cavalry would 

have to fight alone on the enemy’s terms unless they were under a protective umbrella of fire support. Likewise, firepower succeeded only because 

the North Vietnamese stood and fought. Although firepower was a decisive 

factor, it had limitations. Late in 1965, it could not be applied at will.

Because the Ia Drang acquainted the enemy with American firepower 

and influenced it to avoid such encounters in the future, the Army had to 

inaugurate search-and-destroy operations in 1965-66 to ferret out the enemy.19 For example, covered by 105-mm and 155-mm howitzer batteries 
148

positioned in the mountains bordering the Bong Son River, assaults by the 

3rd Brigade, 1st Cavalry, landed south of the river on 28 January 1966 to 

deceive the enemy, attacked northward over the river with the Vietnamese 

Airborne Brigade, and destroyed two enemy battalions. On 6 February as a 

battalion of Marines sealed off the north end of the An Loa Valley to prevent the enemy from escaping, the division’s 2nd Brigade air assaulted into 

An Lao Valley. As the 2nd Brigade opened a thrust south down the valley, 

the rest of the division pushed rapidly southwest of Bong Son.20

This rapid sweep taxed the 1st Cavalry’s artillery’s ability to support 

the maneuver elements. Even though field artillery officers tried to minimize 

displacements, the speed of the ground troops and the size of the area compelled them to make over 160 displacements, which strained the division’s 

air resources. When the pieces were moved by helicopter, field artillerymen 

generally transported ammunition and guns separately. To economize and 

speed up displacements they devised a system of using one helicopter to 

carry both. They suspended the ammunition and the howitzer beneath the 

helicopter by means of a double-sling system to allow the transportation of 

a complete firing section. By doing this, field artillerymen reduced the time 

required to occupy a position and dispelled fears about the field artillery’s inability to keep up with the other combat arms on a highly mobile battlefield.21

Even though 1st Cavalry field artillerymen could maneuver their 

105-mm howitzers around, they wanted still more firepower. Without 

suitable roads 155-mm howitzers could not occupy positions within 

range of the objective. To resolve that shortcoming field artillerymen airlifted the howitzers. Using CH-54 Flying Cranes and CH-47 Chinook 

helicopters and reducing the weight of the 155-mm howitzer by eliminating unnecessary equipment, the 1st Cavalry flew a four-gun battery a 

distance of 15 miles in approximately two hours to provide fire support 

for the ground forces. This movement set an important precedent as it 

indicated that medium guns could be air lifted and therefore possess the 

same mobility as lighter pieces had.22

During those early days of 1966, field artillerymen in the 1st Cavalry also developed new tactics for aerial artillery. While tube artillery 

was adjusted on a target, aerial artillery orbited as near as possible. If any 

enemy tried to escape, aerial gunners fired on them. Whenever possible 

or appropriate, the pilots adjusted tube artillery to flush personnel into 

the open and then attacked. The ability to airlift towed 105-mm and 155-

mm howitzers and the rapid response of aerial artillery signified important 

changes in tactics. The 1st Cavalry had the capability to maneuver their 

artillery aggressively on the battlefield to destroy the enemy and refused 
149

to allow difficult terrain to hinder delivering huge amounts of firepower 

upon enemy positions.23

The war concurrently forced the field artillery to refine certain gunnery techniques. In past wars field artillerymen could predict the enemy’s 

moves because they were primarily confined to a sector and could be plotted on a map with some degree of accuracy. Vietnam changed this. Because of the North Vietnamese and Viet Cong practice of hitting from any 

direction at any time, gun crews had to respond quickly and deliver fire 

in a full circle.24 Realizing that existing procedures were inadequate, gun 

crews improvised their own to furnish fire in a complete circle. This created varying ways. To eliminate confusion, The Artillery and Missile School 

devised a method to fire in a complete circle in 1966 and disseminated it 

throughout the Army.25 Moreover, the school increased its instruction time 

on firing in a complete circle (6400-mils) to prepare graduates better for 

combat in Vietnam.26

As important as technique was, suitable field pieces facilitated firing 

in a complete circle. The M108, Ml09, and M102 howitzers had the capability of traversing 360 degrees with ease, offset the limited traverses of 

Figure 8.2. M107 175-mm gun firing during the Vietnam War. Photo courtesy of 

The Center of Military History.
150

other field guns, such as the 8-inch howitzer and 175-mm gun, and complemented the revised 6400-mil firing chart.27

Although search-and-destroy operations of late 1965 and early 1966 

were successful, the Army still had difficulties protecting the countryside. 

To ensure that the maximum area was defended by available troops, the 

Army assigned an area of operations to each unit from the highest to the 

lowest. This dispersed the Army throughout the countryside. Because of 

the size of the brigade’s area and range limitation, the division artillery 

commander attached a battery to a particular battalion to provide the maximum coverage. Consequently, an artillery battalion no longer supported 

an entire brigade as it had done in previous wars. This habitual association 

decentralized fire direction from the battalion to the battery and frequently 

isolated the battery from the rest of its battalion. Addressing this development, Brigadier General James G. Kalergis, Commander, I Field Force 

Vietnam Artillery, explained in 1967 that field artillery batteries normally 

performed as if they were battalions and that battalions acted as if they 

were division artillery or group head quarters. This transferred the authority to make key decisions from the battalion commander or higher 

to the battery commander. For example, Operation Fitchburg of late 

1966 and early 1967 in Tay Ninh Province gave the battery commander 

“an excellent opportunity to exercise command and control independent of the artillery battalion” because one 105-mm. howitzer battery 

was placed in direct support of each maneuver element.28

Commanders permitted batteries to operate independently because 

the war was basically a small unit conflict and was being fought over a 

large area. Although commanders preferred to keep fire direction under 

the battalion’s control, batteries had to be able to direct their own fire 

since they were often employed piecemeal into battle. In some cases, 

batteries fragmented operations even more by assigning part of their 

guns for base camp defense and the other for tactical employment.29

Because of operations over vast areas, numerous displacements, 

short, violent actions, and an undefinable front and rear in 1965–66, the 

field artillery found the battery-battalion arrangement to be logical and to 

provide fast, accurate fire. As a result, the enemy feared American field 

artillery and made batteries prime targets for infiltration or full-scale attacks. Unable to perform their missions and protect themselves simultaneously, field artillerymen created fire support bases by positioning their 

pieces with the command post of a maneuver battalion. From these positions located so that any point in the area of operations could be reached 

by at least one battery and usually two or more, the maneuver commander 
151

conducted offensive operations, while field artillery, ranging from 105-

mm howitzers to 175-mm guns, furnished fire support and helped defend 

other fire bases as required. This arrangement guaranteed a rapid response 

by the artillery when called upon, simplified furnishing fire support in 

guerrilla warfare, and saved lives. The base along with the availability of 

naval gunfire and tactical air gave the Army the capacity to rain deadly 

fire and reinforced the growing trend of relying upon firepower rather 

than maneuver for defeating the enemy.30

Most commanders concluded that the overriding lesson of 1965–

66 was the importance of firepower. As the battles indicated, American ground forces were vulnerable when they lacked fire support. 

Because of that, many commanders reluctantly operated beyond their 

artillery or tactical air support and refused to fight on equal terms with 

the enemy.31 Commenting on this, Brigadier General Willard Pearson, 

Commander, 1st Brigade, 101st Airborne Division, wrote in December 

1966 that his unit’s motto was “Save Lives, Not Ammunition.”32 Given 

this, he wrote in December 1966 that the ground forces’ main task involved finding the enemy. Artillery and air power had the responsibility of defeating, routing, or destroying the enemy. In December 1966 

he admitted, “Our airmobile operations and fire support then become 

the mainstay of our offensive.”33 Along with other commanders, Pearson insisted that massive artillery and air fire were the most effective 

ways to crumble enemy resistance. Although some officers opposed 

such a tactic, most commanders valued firepower because it preserved 

lives. A memorandum for General Kalergis pointed out “There is not 

[a] price tag in [on] the life of a US soldier; massive use of artillery, air 

and naval support will save US lives.”34

The war in 1965–66, therefore, forced the field artillery to modify tactics and organization. Without a front line gun crews did not 

have the luxury of establishing positions in the rear areas, had to fire 

in a complete circle, had to defend themselves from infiltrators, had to 

airlift their pieces into remote areas, and had to decentralize their batteries through habitual association to provide support in many cases. 

Even though habitual association created fierce loyalties between the 

infantry and field artillery, it made massing battalion and division fire 

difficult and elevated the importance of the battery fire direction center. 

Despite these adaptations during the heat of combat, the field artillery 

gave prompt, reliable support. Along with the pressure from public 

opinion to preserve lives, by 1966 the Army made field artillery, naval, 

and air firepower more important than maneuver since infantry, armor, 
152

and cavalry units would not conduct operations unless they were under 

the protective umbrella of fire support.

Operations Cedar Falls and Junction City

Battles in 1967 and 1968 also reflected this preoccupation with firepower. Despite the success of the search-and-destroy operations in 1966, 

hostile bastions still dotted South Vietnam. Carefully situated in hard-toreach areas-jungles, mountains, and swamps and provided with escape 

routes, the bastions furnished the enemy excellent bases from which they 

assaulted South Vietnam. Since the Iron Triangle was a formidable arrow 

tip pointing straight at Saigon, the Army decided late in 1966 to destroy 

that preserve even though previous attempts had failed. Early in January 1967, the 1st Infantry Division, the 25th Infantry Division, the 173rd 

Airborne Brigade, the 11th Armored Cavalry Regiment, and separate battalions of the Army of the Republic of Vietnam opened Operation Cedar 

Falls. The units moved into pre-arranged positions around the Triangle to 

seal it off and attacked.35 As expected, main force Viet Cong units dispersed as the Americans and South Vietnamese pushed into the bastion. 

Although enemy resistance was light, the field artillery fired missions 

from bases ringing the area of operations to seal off escape routes or reduce small points of resistance and fiercely shelled landing zones. Nevertheless, division artillery commanders had difficulty locating moving 

units and coordinating supporting fires. Because of this, the 1st Division’s 

artillery commander delegated fire control to commanders of direct support battalions, who helped convert the Iron Triangle from a haven into a 

no man’s land by the end of January.36

Shortly thereafter, the Army launched another multi-division operation called Junction City. For years the insurgents had a major stronghold 

along the Cambodian border from which they had hit the South Vietnamese. Late in February, the Americans surrounded the area with 18 battalions and 13 mutually supporting fire bases and conducted search-and-destroy operations over the next three weeks.37

Junction City culminated with the battles of Ap Bau Bang II, Suoi Tre, 

and Ap Gu. In each case Viet Cong forces attacked American fire bases 

with mortar rounds, rifle grenades, rockets, and recoilless rifle fire. To fight 

off the assaults the Americans employed small arms fire, field artillery, and 

air strikes. According to Brigadier General David E. Ott, Commander, 25th 

Division’s artillery, the most significant artillery action occurred around 

Fire Support Base Gold during the Battle of Suoi Tre. As infantry patrols 

swept around the base on 21 March, they bumped into a Viet Cong force 
153

that was preparing to assail the base. The accidental confrontation prematurely triggered a violent enemy attack. To defend themselves American 

gun crews levelled their tubes and spewed beehive rounds (canister rounds 

filled with hundreds of metal darts) into the Viet Cong. At point-blank 

range round after round hit the assaulting force as batteries from other 

bases threw up a continuous wall of shells around the perimeter and as air 

strikes pounded the attackers. This demonstration of firepower along with 

small arms fire compelled the Viet Cong to withdraw.38

As Lieutenant General Bernard W. Rogers, who was the assistant division commander of the 1st Infantry Division in 1967, recalled in 1974, 

Cedar Falls/Junction City operations confirmed the importance of field 

artillery and air power. They verified the need to get as much firepower on 

the enemy as quickly as possible and to use artillery and air strikes simultaneously. Equally important, these operations reemphasized the value of 

105-mm howitzers because of their rapidfire capabilities and strengthened 

the requirement for mutually supporting bases.39

In Summons of the Trumpet: US-Vietnam Perspective (1978), 

David R. Palmer, an advisor to the Vietnamese Military Academy and 

Vietnamese armor units during the Vietnam War, caught the essence of 

the transformation-of Army tactics caused by the drive for fire support. 

By 1967 only a foolhardy or a desperate commander would ever engage 

the enemy by any means other than firepower. Early drifts towards this 

mentality started in la Orang and culminated in 1967. Even though Army 

doctrine still called for fire and maneuver, practice in Vietnam differed 

considerably. Commanders located the enemy with infantry and then attacked with field artillery and air strikes. After leaving Vietnam, General 

Westmoreland criticized this routine vigorously when he admitted that artillery and air power had produced a firebase psychosis.40

The Tet Offensive and the Vietnamization of the War

In 1968, the North Vietnamese abandoned their strategy of a protracted 

war. Within 24 hours after the beginning of Tet, on 30 January 1968, Hanoi 

launched a series of attacks from the demilitarized zone to the southern 

tip of Vietnam. The Viet Cong and North Vietnamese struck six major 

cities, 64 district capitals, and 50 hamlets and caught the Americans and 

South Vietnamese off guard. In Saigon the Americans and South Vietnamese repulsed the initial assaults and cleared the city within several days. A 

similar pattern emerged in other places with the exception of Hue. After 

three weeks of heavy bombing and intensive artillery fire, the Americans 

and South Vietnamese finally liberated the city.41
154

Generally, post-Tet operations reflected past counter-guerrilla operations. Enemy tactics compelled the resumption of small unit actions, ranging from squad- to company-size. As the other combat arms scoured the 

countryside, gun crews supplied close support by shelling enemy positions. 

As a means to extend offensive operations, the Army conducted artillery 

raids from fire bases into remote areas by displacing artillery to supplementary positions and quickly withdrawing. Normally, a raid included one 105-

mm howitzer battery, one understrength 155-mm howitzer battery (three 

howitzers), one rifle company for security, aerial observers from division 

artillery, and air cavalry for target acquisition and damage assessment when 

it was available. Equally important, American field artillerymen created a 

fourth firing battery in direct support battalions because of the clamor for 

more firepower and because of a surplus of guns and ammunition and increased the use of the Field Artillery Digital Automatic Computer (FADAC) that had been introduced in Vietnam in 1966–67. In fact, FADAC had 

become the primary means of computing firing data by 1969.42

Although FADAC did not eliminate the need for manual computation 

for backup capability, it greatly altered the field artillery’s performance in 

Vietnam. It reduced fatigue and the resulting errors of fire direction center 

personnel. By doing this FADAC greatly increased accuracy, decreased 

response time, and allowed gun crews to fire longer missions and hit more 

targets with less ammunition. For the field artillery these capabilities were 

critical because the North Vietnamese and Viet Cong were elusive, used 

hit-and-run tactics, and engaged the Americans and their allies at close 

distance with the idea of negating their superiority in artillery, helicopter, 

and tactical air support.43

The war assumed a new dimension following Tet. Even though the 

North Vietnamese did not achieve their objective, their ability to initiate 

such an offensive stimulated a great debate in the United States. For many 

Americans the offensive symbolized the senseless destruction of the war. 

For the military Tet presented a golden opportunity to crush the Viet Cong 

and North Vietnamese because they were weakened by that great effort. 

Seeking to take advantage of the enemy’s condition, Westmoreland proposed a two-fisted offensive, a ground attack against sanctuaries in Laos 

and Cambodia and an intensive bombing campaign. In contrast, Pentagon 

civilians urged shifting from search-and destroy operations to population 

security by deploying the bulk of the military forces along the demographic frontier, a line just north of the major population centers. From here 

the military would defend against a major North Vietnamese thrust and 

engage in limited offensive operations to keep the enemy off balance. Pen-
155

tagon civilians also wanted the South Vietnamese to assume more responsibility for their own defense and hoped to end the war through negotiation 

rather than a resounding military victory. Even though the military bitterly 

denounced this position and warned that it would produce certain disaster, 

President Lyndon B. Johnson’s administration accepted it in March 1968, 

an election year. Because of his opposition to expanding the war, President 

Johnson cut back bombing, informed the South Vietnamese that they had 

to shoulder more of the burden for defending themselves, and launched a 

peace initiative to create an independent, non-communist South Vietnam.44

Although the Army continued fighting into 1973, Vietnamization 

changed the field artillery’s primary mission. Beginning early in 1969, 

the Americans upgraded assistance programs to improve South Vietnamese artillery operations, allowed the South Vietnamese to function independently, and launched equipment modernization and training programs. 

Despite these efforts and those that strengthened the South Vietnamese 

army as a whole, South Vietnam finally collapsed in 1975 in the face of a 

determined North Vietnamese onslaught.45

Even though the Vietnam War demonstrated the Army’s flexibility to 

move from its preoccupation with nuclear war to unconventional war, it 

also revealed the Army’s growing reliance upon firepower. Exploiting improved artillery systems coming off production lines, using FADAC to assist with 

automated gunnery procedures and dusting off forgotten tactics and techniques, 

field artillerymen delivered unprecedented accurate fire to shatter enemy 

attacks and seal off the battlefield and showed their ability to furnish huge 

quantities of fire. Ironically, the Army’s past conditioned soldiers to see 

firepower-artillery, naval guns, and tactical air-as the preferable solution.

The Artillery Branch Study

Additionally, the Vietnam War highlighted the inherent shortcomings 

of consolidating the field and coast artillery. Following the closing of the 

Seacoast Artillery School in 1950 and disbanding coast artillery units or 

converting them to field or antiaircraft artillery that same year, only field 

and antiaircraft artillery (called air defense artillery after 1957) existed as 

part of the Army’s artillery. Because of the growing divergence of techniques, tactics, doctrine, equipment, and materiel for the two artilleries, 

the Continental Army Command outlined a plan in 1955 to develop basic 

courses in field artillery and antiaircraft artillery for new officers. Integrated basic and advanced officer courses, which had been initiated in 1947, 

had failed to provide officers with adequate preparation to serve effectively in either artillery.46 With support from the Army’s Assistant Chief of 
156

Staff for Training, the Continental Army Command created basic courses 

for the two artilleries in 1957 but reintegrated basic officer training in 1958 

through 1961 because of the lack of officers and money.47 In the meantime, 

the Continental Army Command retained the integrated artillery advanced 

course for officers with five to eight years of experience because of pressure to maintain flexibility in officer assignments.48

The pressure to end integrated training and form field artillery and air 

defense artillery as two distinct combat arms branches mounted. Based 

upon the report of the Army Officer Education and Review Board of 1958, 

the Continental Army Command reintroduced separate basic officer courses in 1962 because of the need for specialized training for new officers. 

Because the Army wanted flexibility to shift experienced artillery officers 

easily between field and air defense artillery units, the command retained 

the integrated advanced course. As a part of the advanced course, student 

officers received instruction at the Artillery and Guided Missile School 

and the Air Defense School at Fort Bliss, Texas. In a student thesis at the 

Army War College in 1963, Colonel William F. Brand pointed out that 

integrated training provided an inadequate amount of time for detailed 

instruction on all artillery weapons, which meant that officers left the advanced course without mastering any of the weapons. As a result, Colonel 

Brand urged separate training for field artillery and air defense artillery. At 

the direction of the Commanding General, Continental Army Command, 

the Artillery and Guided Missile School and the Air Defense School explored the desirability of dividing the artillery into two branches. In 1963 

the schools recommended separation because of the difficulty of cross 

training and the growing difference between the two artilleries. In line 

with this, the authors of “The Artillery Branch Study” of 1966 wrote that 

integrated training ‘spawned mediocrity.’”49

In 1965–1967 the demand for field artillery officers with highly professional skills in the Vietnam War finally caused the Army and the Continental Army Command to reorganize the artillery. Because of the one-year 

tour that left little time for on the-job training, combat in Vietnam required 

the officer to arrive as a proficient field artilleryman and not a hybrid field 

and air defense artilleryman. Army commanders in Vietnam simply did 

not have the time to train an air defense artilleryman to be competent in 

field artillery and upgrade the skills of a field artillery man, who had had 

insufficient training in the basic techniques.50 Viewing the past years of 

integration and its detrimental impact on field and air defense artillery and 

the need for qualified officers in both artilleries, authors of “The Artillery 
157

Branch Study’ urged ceasing the practice of cross training and forming two 

separate branches of artillery.51

The Army concurred with the recommendations and split the 

field artillery and air defense artillery into two distinct combat arms 

with their own training programs in 1968. This freed field artillerymen to concentrate on field artillery subjects. Yet, separating the 

two artilleries had little impact upon the Artillery and Guided Missile School, which was renamed the Field Artillery School, because 

it was already focusing its energies on field artillery.

Conclusion

The Vietnam War had a profound impact on the field artillery. After 

years of debate over the validity of consolidating field and air defense artillery, the war prompted the Army to recognize the existence of two artilleries and to make them independent of each other. Also, the war compelled 

the field artillery to adapt to fight a small-unit war, but it never abandoned 

its faith in massing fire or being to fight large-scale combat operations 

against a near peer threat. The operational environment imposed many 

challenges on artilleryman that they had not trained for nor experienced 

since conducting operations during the Pacific campaign in the Second 

World War. In the end, US Army artillery proved once again that it could 

provide fire support to maneuver forces when and where it was needed. 

More importantly, artilleryman demonstrated flexibility, adaptability and 

ingenuity in accomplishing whatever mission was assigned them. Lessons 

learned from the Vietnam War would be put into practice 15 years later 

in the deserts of Kuwait and Iraq during the First Iraq War, 1990 to 1991. 

This time however, artilleryman found themselves operating in an operational environment they had trained for thanks in part to the many unit 

rotations conducted at the National Training Center (NTC) and elsewhere. 

Though methods of the employment of fires, both lethal and non-lethal, have changed since the end of the Vietnam War, it is vitally important that Field Artillerymen today continue to focus on developing the 

necessary skills and abilities to provide “collective and coordinated use 

of Army indirect fires . . . in support of offensive and defensive tasks to 

create specific lethal and nonlethal effects” against a near-peer threat in 

large-scale combat operations.52
158

Notes

1. Report on the War in Vietnam. Admiral U.S.G. Sharp, Commander in Chief 

Pacific and General W.C. Westmoreland, Commander, US Military Assistance 

Command, Vietnam, 30 June 1968 (Morris Swett Library hereafter MSL), 98.

2. David E. Ott, Field Artillery: 1954–1973 (Washington DC: Department 

of the Army, 1975), 22–37.

3. George C. Herring. “The 1st Cavalry and the Ia Drang Valley, 18 October–24 November 1965,” in Charles E. Heller and William A. Stofft, eds., America’s First Battles, 1776–1965 (Lawrence, KS: University Press of Kansas, 

1986), 300–01; Allan R. Millet and Peter Maslowski, For the Common Defense, 

(New York: The Free Press, 1984), 547.

4. Report on the War in Vietnam. Admiral U.S.G. Sharp, Commander in Chief 

Pacific: and General W.C. Westmoreland, Commander, US Military Assistance 

Command, Vietnam, 30 June 1968 (MSL), 98.

5. Artillery Trends, January 1967, 1; I.etter, HQ 2nd Battalion, 32nd Artillery, 

to CG, US Army Artillery and Missile School, “Heavy Artillery in the Guerrilla 

Warfare Environment,” 24 January 1966, in Correspondence Received from Vietnam File, MSL; Herring, “The 1st Cavalry and the Ia Drang Valley,” 306.

6. George C. Herring, America’s Longest War: The United States in Vietnam, 1950–1975 (New York: John Wiley and Sons, 1979), 151; George C. 

Herring. “The 1st Cavalry and the Ia Drang Valley, 303–304; Robert H. Scales, 

“Firepower and Maneuver in the Second Indochina War,” Field Artillery Journal, September–October, 1986, 48; Harry W.O. Kinnard, “A Victory in the Ia 

Drang: Triumph of a Concept,” Army, September 1967, 77.

7. Kinnard, “A Victory in the Ia Drang,” 78–83; After Action Report, 1st 

Cavalry Division, 23 October–26 November 1965, 45, 51, 54, MSL.

8. Kinnard, “A Victory in the Ia Drang,” 84–86; Scales, “Firepower and Maneuver in the Second Indochina War,” 49–50; After Action Report. 1st Cavalry 

Division, 23 October–26 November 1965, 84; Report, CG, 1-7th Cavalry, 1st 

Cavalry Division (Airmobile), “After Action Report, Ia Drang Valley Operation, 

1st Battalion, 7th Cavalry,” 14–16 November 1965, 3–11. 

9. After Action Report, 1st Cavalry Division, 23 October–26 November 

1965, 87; Herring, “The 1st Cavalry and the Ia Drang Valley,” 319; Kinnard, “ A 

Victory in the Ia Drang,” 86–87; Scales, “Firepower and Maneuver in the Second 

Indochina War,” 50; Report, CO, 1-7th Cavalry, lst Cavalry Division (Airmobile), 

“After Action Report, Ia Drang Valley Operation, 1st Battalion, 7th Cavalry,” 

14–16 November 1965, 13–15.

10. After Action Report, 1st Cavalry, 23 October–26 November 1965, 

93–94, MSL; Herring. “The 1st Cavalry and the Ia Drang Valley, 18 October–24 

November 1965,” 320; Kinnard, “A Victory in the Ia Drang,” 88–89; Ott, Field 

Artillery, 94–95.

11. Kinnard, “A Victory in the Ia Drang,” 85.

12. Kinnard, 85.
159

13. After Action Report, 1st Cavalry, 23 October–26 November 1965, Forward, MSL.

14. After Action Report, 1st Cavalry, 23 October–26 November 1965, Forward, MSL.

15. Lloyd J. Picou, “Airmobile Artillery in Combat,” Artillery Trends, August 1967, 20. Artillery Trends was a small journal published by the Artillery and 

Guided Missile School during the late 1950s through early 1970s. During those 

years the journal went by several different names: The Artillery Quarterly, Trends 

in Artillery for Instruction, and The Field Artilleryman. Basically, the journal was 

designed for in-house use by instructors at Fort Sill and for wide distribution.

16. Lloyd J. Picou, “Artillery Support for the Airmobile Division,” Artillery 

Trends, October 1968, 7.

17. Picou, 7.

18. After Action Report, 1st Cavalry, 23 October–26 November 1965, 

127; Report, US Army Vietnam, “Battlefield Report: A Summary of Lessons 

Learned,” n.d., 52–55, MSL.

19. Report on the War in Vietnam, 30 June 1968, 114, MSL.

20. Lloyd J. Picou, “The Day the Artillery Sprouted Wings,” Army Information Digest, November 1966, 24–25; Ott, Field Artillery, 100–101; Report, 

1st Air Cavalry Artillery, “Operation Masher and White Wing (Eagle Claw),” 14 

March 1966, 49; 1st Air Cavalry: Memoirs of the First team, Vietnam, August 

1965–December 1966 (Tokyo: Dia Nippon Printing Company, Ltd, n.d.), 30–32.

21. Ott, Field Artillery, 105–106. After Action Report, 1st Air Cavalry Division Artillery, 16 May 1966, 10, MSL.

22. Lloyd J. Picou, “Artillery Support for the Airmobile Division,” Military 

Review, (October, 1968), 9–10.

23. Picou, “Artillery Support for the Airmobile Division,” 11; Report, 

1st Air Cavalry Artillery, “Operation Masher/White Wing (Eagle Claw),” 14 

March 1966, 5.

24. Picou, “Artillery Support for the Airmobile Division,” 11; Report, 1st 

Air Cavalry Artillery, “Operation Masher/White Wing (Eagle Claw),” 14 March 

1966, 5, MSL.

25. Letter, 3rd Battalion, 18th Field Artillery to US Army Artillery and 

Missile School, “Artillery Employment,” 8 August 1966, in Lessons Learned, 

18th Field Artillery File, Morris Swett Library; Report US Army, Vietnam, “A 

Summary of Lessons Learned,” 30 August 1965, II-I, MSL; report, US Army, 

Vietnam, “A Summary of Lessons Learned,” n.d., 55, MSL. 

26. “Simple Solutions to 6400-mil Charts, Artillery Trends, January 1967, 11.

27. Report , Major General Charles P. Brown, Commandant, The Artillery 

and Missile School, 11–24 September 1967, MSL; “Field Artillery Equipment,” 

Artillery Trends, July 1966, 3–11 

28. After Action Report, 196th Light Infantry Brigade, 25 November 1966–

68, April 1967, 3; Picou, “Airmobile Artillery in Combat,” 12–14; Memorandum 

for Commanding General, I Field Force V Artillery, 5 December 1967, in letter, 
160

HQ I Field Force V, to Brigadier General John J. Kenney, Assistant Commandant, Artillery and Missile School, 4 January 1968, MSL.

29. Memorandum for Commanding General, I Field Force V Artillery, 5 

December 1967; DF, “Observations of Artillery Operations in Vietnam,” 14 May 

1968, TAB A, MSL.

30. Bruce R. Palmer, Jr., The 25 Year War: America’s Military Role in 

Vietnam (Lexington, KY: The University Press of Kentucky, 1984), 158; Report 

on the War in Vietnam, 30 June 1968, 120; Letter, Headquarters 3rd Battalion, 

319th Field Artillery to Commandant, US Army Artillery and Missile School, 15 

January 1966, in Correspondence Received from Vietnam File, MSL; Ott, Field 

Artillery, 42–45; Piccou, “Airmobile Artillery in Combat,” 12–18; Captain F.H. 

Hemphill Jr., “Defence of the Artillery Battery.” Artillery Trends, January 1967, 

27–32; Colonel R.E. Cavazos, et al., Analysis of Fire and Maneuver in Vietnam, 

June 1966–June 1968 (Carlisle Barracks, PA: US Army War College, 1969), 

II-16–25; Captain Gary J. Pieringer, “Counting the Sappers,” Field Artillery, 

August 1988, 6; Ott, Field Artillery, 55–58, 238.

31. Robert A. Doughty, The Evolution of US Army Tactical Doctrine, 1946–

1976 (Fort Leavenworth, KS: Combat Studies Institute, US Army Command and 

General Staff College, 1976), 36–38.

32. Willard Pearson, “Find ’em, Fix ’em, Finish ’em,” Army Information 

Digest, December 1966, 19.

33. Pearson, “Find ’em, Fix ’em, Finish ’em,” 19.

34. Memorandum for Commanding General, I Field Force V, 5 December 

1967, MSL; Scales, “Firepower and Maneuver in the Second Indochina War,” 53.

35. Ott, Field Artillery, 110; David R. Palmer, Summons of the Trumpet: 

US-Vietnam in Perspective (San Francisco, CA: Presidio Press, 1978), 134–137; 

Bernard W. Rogers, Cedar Falls-Junction City: A Turning Point (Washington 

DC: Department of the Army, 1974), 16–217. 

36. After Action Report, 173rd Airborne Brigade, 25 February 1967, 3–4, 

MSL; After Action Report, 1st Division, 13 March 1967, Annex F, MSL; Rogers, 24–43, 75–76.

37. Rogers, Cedar Falls-Junction City, 83, 103, 107, 110. 

38. Rogers, 129–140; Ott, Field Artillery, 113–118. 

39. Rogers, 156. 

40. Palmer, Summons of the Trumpet, 140–146.

41. Herring, America’s Longest War, 185–187.

42. Ott, Field Artillery, 157–169, 184–185; Major Robert E. Gilbert, “FADAC,” Artillery Trends, May, 1968, 45; Major Martell D. Fritz, “Revised Programs for FADAC, Artillery Trends, April 1969, 36; Lieutenant General Richard 

G. Stilwell, “Evolution in Tactics: The Vietnam Experience,” Army, February 

1970, 21; Lieutenant General Frank T. Mildren, “From Mekong to DMZ: A 

Fighting Year for the US Army’s Best,” Army, November 1968, 88.

43. Lieutenant Colonel Matthew J. Ringer and Major Martell D. Fritz, “FADAC Computations versus Manual Computations,” Artillery Trends, April 1969, 

40; Mildren, “From Mekong to DMZ,” 88.
161

44. Herring, America’s Longest War, 189–197, 204–205.

45. Herring, 189–197, 227–252.

46. Letter, Headquarters, Continental Army Command to Assistant Chief 

of Staff, G3, 9 February 1955, The Artillery Center, Integration of the Artillery 

Schools, MSL; “The Artillery Branch Study,” 35, 36, 41 MSL; Disposition of 

Enclosures, “Integration of the Artillery,” n.d., The Artillery Center, “Consolidation of the Artillery School;” “Army Reorganization,” Antiaircraft Journal, 

July–August 1950, 27.

47. “The Artillery Branch Study,” 61. 

48. “The Artillery Branch Study,” 41; Acting Assistant Chief of Staff, G3, 

to Commanding General, Continental Army Command, “Training and Assignment of Artillery Officers,” 11 June 1955, The Artillery Center, Integration of the 

Artillery School; Letter, de Shazo to Commanding General, Continental Army 

Command, “Integration of the Artillery,” 16 May 1956, US Army Artillery Center, Integration of the Artillery Schools, MSL. 

49. “The Artillery Branch Study,” 45, 46, 93; William F. Brand, “A Re-examination of the Integration of the Artillerists,” Thesis, US Army War College, 

1963, 31–32.

50. William F. Brand, “A Re-examination of the Integration of the Artillerists,” Thesis, US Army War College, 1963, 118–119. 

51. “Two Career Fields Formed for Artillery,” The Journal of the Armed 

Forces, 15 June 1968, 29; “Air, Ground Artillery Split,” Army Times, 19 June 

1968, 1; William F. Brand, “A Re-examination of the Integration of the Artillerists,” 24; “The Artillery Branch Study,” 52–53.

52. Department of the Army, Army Doctrine Reference Publication (ADRP 

3-0), Operations (Washington, DC: 16 August 2017), 5-4.

163

Chapter 9

Close Air Support and Bombardment Theory: Operation Cobra

Mark T. Calhoun 

After more than two decades of US Army involvement in counterinsurgency, counterterrorism, and stability operations, today’s senior leaders have expressed concern about the Army’s preparedness to engage in 

large-scale combat operations (LSCO) against peer and near-peer threats.1

While most of today’s Army personnel have participated in limited wars, 

few have experienced LSCO. This begs the question how the Army should 

prepare for multi-domain battle (MDB) in the anticipated future operational environment.2

In On War, Carl von Clausewitz described practice through maneuvers that include elements of friction and physical exertion, like those experienced in combat, as the next-best thing to actual combat experience.3

In addition to realistic maneuvers, Clausewitz advocated critical thinking, 

a means of testing military theory through objective analysis of history, as 

another way to prepare for war, arguing that “The influence of theoretical 

truths on practical life is always exerted more through critical analysis 

than through doctrine.”4

Operation Cobra, the American breakout from Normandy in late July, 

1944 illustrates the validity of Clausewitz’s assertions. Cobra serves today 

as a testament not only to the US Army’s maturation through the interwar 

years, but also to the harmful effects of branch parochialism. This resulted 

in both the most effective and the most tragic use of strategic bombers in 

close support of US ground troops during World War II (WWII).

Theoretical debates plagued air-ground cooperation before and during 

WWII, and have continued to do so ever since. In his study of Close Air 

Support (CAS) doctrine and capability, US Air Force Major Russell Fette 

described this pattern as an “ebb and flow” of American air-ground cooperation.5

 Fette argued that CAS competency requires good relationships 

between the air and ground arms, which enables the cooperation needed to 

develop sound doctrine, tactics, and training. He found that over the past 

century, the US military’s air-ground relationship has atrophied during 

peacetime as services competed for higher budgets and new equipment. 

The relationship tends to recover in combat, when a common enemy motivates land and air forces to rebuild relationships that enable development 

of effective CAS tactics, techniques, and procedures (TTP), but this takes 

place slowly, resulting in poor CAS in the early phases of conflict that 
164

gradually improves over time.6 In the interwar years, branch parochialism outweighed critical analysis as strategic bombardment theory came 

to dominate Army Air Corps (AAC) doctrine, education, training, and aircraft development.

The Development of a Strategic Bombing Theory

The airpower debate began in earnest soon after World War I (WWI), 

when AAC leaders embraced independent strategic bombing theory, advocated by Italian theorist Giulio Douhet and later by American pilots like 

William “Billy” Mitchell.7

 Rapid advances in bomber range, payload, and 

self-defense capability seemed to promise victory in future wars without 

the need for ground combat. Further, many pilots saw bombardment theory as the means to achieve their longstanding goal of independence from 

ground forces’ control, given the theory’s central premise that airpower 

had a unique, strategic mission.8 By contrast, non-flying Army leaders 

argued that airpower could not win wars alone, emphasizing combined 

arms fighting and the need for close air-ground cooperation. Still, strategic 

bombing, while purely theoretical, took an increasingly central role in US 

Army Air Corps (AAC) doctrine.

Bombardment theory soon dominated the curriculum at the Air Corps 

Tactical School (ACTS), the AAC’s highest educational institution and 

doctrinal center during the interwar period. Major Harold George, a senior 

instructor at the ACTS, emerged after Billy Mitchell’s court martial and 

dismissal from the Army as one of the AAC’s most influential proponents 

of the bombardment theory. As noted by historian Thomas Hughes, “Harold George, more than anyone else, provided the intellectual groundwork 

for what became a fully-articulated independent-strategic-air theory.” 9

Most of the other instructors soon shared George’s views on the future of 

airpower, and together they emphasized bombardment theory at the expense of instruction on the use of tactical airpower.

Rapidly increasing bomber technology led to the appearance in 1936 

of the B-17 “Flying Fortress,” the first heavy bomber designed to provide 

its own self-defense, thereby making fighter escorts obsolete. With President Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s support, the AAC budget grew rapidly, 

with most of the additional funding spent on bomber development and 

production. In the 1930s alone, three new bombers left American assembly lines, including the B-10 in 1931, the B-12 in 1932, and the B-17 in 

1936. By contrast, the US Army did not begin production of the P-40 Mustang—the first significant development in American fighter technology in 

ten years—until 1940.10
165

Most Army pilots embraced bombardment theory, including AAC war 

planners who, under the direction of General Henry “Hap” Arnold, based 

their concept of airpower employment on the theory’s central tenets. An 

absence of critical thinking took hold as bombardment theory increasingly 

dominated AAC doctrine. With a major war brewing on the horizon, not 

only pilots in the AAC and the Royal Air Force (RAF), but also many 

American and British senior military and national leaders accepted the theory as dogma. Some of the interwar period’s most influential bombardment 

theory advocates later acknowledged the imbalance its adoption created in 

the air arm’s combined arms capability. Haywood Hansell, another ACTS 

instructor and bombardment theory proponent during the interwar years, 

reflected after the war, “I think we got carried away so far on this strategic 

thing . . . that we have decimated, we’ve emasculated our own force.”11

Despite these challenges, some Army pilots before WWII remained 

open to the idea of tactical air-to-ground support. In this contentious environment, a young pilot named Pete Quesada emerged as an agent of 

change, retaining his enthusiasm for CAS despite the AAC’s focus on strategic bombing theory. Quesada attended the Command and General Staff 

College (CGSC) after the ACTS, where he developed close relationships 

with many non-flying Army officers and often discussed with them the value of tactical air support to ground combat troops. The perspective Quesada gained at CGSC deepened his conviction that the AAC needed a powerful tactical air capability to complement the strategic bombing mission.12

Still, this remained a minority view, and Quesada lacked the rank or 

influence to change minds already fixed on bombardment theory. He did, 

however, have an excellent reputation among both flying and non-flying 

officers. He served throughout the interwar period as an aide to many senior leaders, including three months working for Colonel George C. Marshall during his tenure as commandant of the Infantry School at Fort Benning, Georgia. Marshall liked to fly and spent many hours with Quesada in 

a small observation aircraft, developing a very favorable opinion of him.13

He also made a good impression on Hap Arnold, who brought Quesada to the War Department in 1942 to serve on Arnold’s newly-designated, 

independent Army Air Forces (AAF) staff. A few months later Arnold, 

with Quesada in tow, traveled to London in the aftermath of the Battle of 

Britain. Both Arnold and the leaders of Britain’s Royal Air Force (RAF) 

saw the devastation of London as validation of bombardment theory. 

Ironically, even though it was RAF fighter pilots who finally drove the 

Germans out of British skies, the Battle of Britain seemingly ushered in 

the age of the strategic bomber. Men like Hap Arnold believed that the 
166

Germans would have won the Battle of Britain if only they had possessed 

advanced bombers like the B-17.14

When Arnold returned to the War Department he created the Air War 

Planning Division (AWPD). Manned exclusively by AAF pilots committed to the independent strategic bombing concept, the AWPD developed 

war plans that reflected this view. As Quesada put it in a post-war interview, “they allowed their doctrine to become their strategy.”15 This strategy would soon be put to the test. As Hughes wrote, “Now these men had 

to justify spending billions of dollars, and the use of almost a third of the 

Army’s manpower on independent air power. To do so, they created a war 

plan that mirrored their beliefs and hopes.”16

Quesada emerged from this period with his views on tactical airpower 

intact, but he lacked the ability to influence war planning. Still, the young 

major possessed the talent and drive that Army Chief of Staff General 

George C. Marshall valued when selecting young officers to replace the 

Army’s aging senior leaders and mobilize newly formed units for combat. 

By the fall of 1942, Marshall had arranged for Quesada’s rapid promotion 

from major to brigadier general, and Arnold selected him to command the 

First Air Defense Wing. Quesada soon received orders to join the Allied 

task force in Tunisia, only two months after Operation Torch, the amphibious assault of North Africa.17

The Air War in North Africa

Quesada arrived in Tunisia on 27 January 1943, where he soon learned 

of British military leaders’ disappointment in the Americans’ combat performance. If the Western Desert Forces, commanded by Lieutenant General Dwight D. Eisenhower, had secured Tunis before weather forced the 

Allies to cease operations, they would have trapped Field Marshal Erwin 

Rommel’s Afrika Korps between the British Eighth Army to the south and 

Eisenhower’s forces to the north and northwest. Instead, the Germans won 

the “race for Tunis” and still controlled this vital communications node, 

enabling arrival by sea of supplies and reinforcements.18

During the weather-induced pause in combat, Eisenhower reflected 

on the performance of his Western Desert Forces during their first two 

months in combat. Many participants and observers saw the Allies’ failure 

to seize the port city of Tunis before the rainy season in December 1942 as 

a failure of American leadership and evidence of the US Army’s poor state 

of readiness. This led to angst among the British and American Allies that 

exacerbated an already bad situation.19
167

Concerned about the AAF’s poor performance in November and December of 1942, Eisenhower concluded that much of the problem resulted 

from the air planners’ focus on bombardment strategy, and their neglect of 

basic and predictable factors like weather, terrain, and disease. Challenges 

created by poor planning and difficulties coordinating air support between 

the British Eastern Air Command and the US Twelfth Air Force—separated both by distance and nationality—convinced Eisenhower that he must 

consolidate all airpower in the theater under a single command. On 5 January 1943, the Combined Chiefs of Staff approved creation of the Allied 

Air Force. While this umbrella organization centralized control over all 

air forces in the Mediterranean, it lacked the integration needed at lower 

levels to improve air-ground coordination.20

In February, Eisenhower again reorganized his air forces, creating the 

Mediterranean Air Command. This headquarters commanded the newly-designated Northwest African Air Forces, which further subdivided 

into five organizations, consolidating American and British air forces by 

function—an unprecedented move, but one that most air and ground commanders supported in hopes of improving airpower’s effectiveness.21

Significantly, the primary air effort throughout the Tunisian campaign 

remained interdiction of enemy shipping. While this mission provided no 

visible benefit to ground combat units, it significantly hindered delivery 

by sea of logistics materiel and reinforcements to Axis forces. By contrast, tactical air support, although it often provided a morale boost to the 

ground forces, remained in a rudimentary stage of development. Fighter pilots slowly worked out basic air-to-ground procedures while facing 

many challenges, including faulty radar and communication systems, difficulty distinguishing friend from foe, lack of established air-to-ground 

coordination procedures, and slow response to air support requests.22

Still, German air superiority remained the most significant problem 

for Allied airpower in North Africa. High-altitude bombers rarely experienced attacks by the Luftwaffe, but many dogfights took place between 

Allied and German fighters. While AAF pilots generally performed well 

in these air-to-air engagements, German control of the air often diverted 

scarce tactical aircraft from assigned CAS missions, leaving ground forces 

vulnerable to Stuka dive bombers. The Allies finally achieved air superiority in North Africa in April 1943—just one month before the last German 

units evacuated Tunis by sea. Hap Arnold, commanding the independent 

Army Air Forces (AAF), sent an observer to the Mediterranean in the summer of 1943 “to capitalize on the practical field experience . . . which may 

be at variance to more established theories of air warfare.”23
168

Eisenhower remained in Tunisia after the Allied victory to oversee 

planning for upcoming operations in the Mediterranean Theater. At three 

conferences held in November and December 1943, Allied military and national leaders met to forge agreements related to matters of coalition strategy. During the first Cairo Conference, from 22–26 November, Roosevelt 

and Churchill met with Chiang Kai-Shek and his wife to discuss China’s 

role in the Far Eastern Theater. Roosevelt and Churchill then traveled to 

Tehran where, from 27 November to 2 December, they met with Joseph 

Stalin to discuss the Allied invasion of Western Europe. Stalin insisted that 

the invasion take place no later than May 1944, to take pressure off the Red 

Army on the Eastern Front. Churchill and Roosevelt traveled directly back 

to Cairo from Tehran, meeting with the Combined Chiefs of Staff from 2 to 

7 December, 1943 to discuss final plans for the invasion of Normandy. One 

important decision remained in flux until 6 December, when Roosevelt finally announced that he had selected Eisenhower to serve as the Supreme 

Commander, Allied Expeditionary Forces for Operation Overlord.24

The Role of Air Support in Operation Overlord

Eisenhower and his staff had much to do, with D-Day of Operation 

Overlord only five months away. Reflecting on his experience in North 

Africa, Eisenhower knew that he must once again consolidate all ground 

forces and airpower in theater under a single command structure. In this 

case, however, planning for command arrangements began well before 

execution of the amphibious assault in Normandy, giving senior leaders 

time to prepare for their new roles in Western Europe.25

Eisenhower expressed his concept of ground command arrangements 

in a cable to Marshall on 23 December 1943.26 While this concept worked 

effectively throughout the campaign in Western Europe, the air organization still suffered from the divisive effects of bombardment theory. Significant differences in air leaders’ views on strategic versus tactical employment of airpower created friction both among air leaders and between 

air and ground commanders. Despite several changes of command before 

D-Day, this friction remained problematic throughout the war.27

Eisenhower found these disputes and leadership changes especially 

frustrating during the final planning for Operation Overlord, when they 

disrupted efforts to develop a detailed air support plan for the operation. 

One of the main disputes involved the use of heavy bombers in a ground 

support role. Eisenhower intended to use this method in support of Overlord even though many senior pilots remained opposed to it. On 22 March, 

Eisenhower expressed his frustration in a memorandum for record, which 
169

he instructed his aide to handle personally to keep his remarks secret: “The 

actual air preparatory plan is to be the subject of a formal meeting on this 

coming Saturday, March 25. . . . If a satisfactory answer is not reached I 

am going to . . . request relief from this Command.”28 Fortunately, one 

critical position remained unchanged throughout operations in Western 

Europe. While his peers bickered over appropriate use of strategic bombers, Pete Quesada, Promoted to Major General in April 1944, commanded the IX Fighter Command, composed of the IX and XIX Tactical Air 

Commands. In this role, Quesada finally had both the opportunity and the 

authority to develop CAS TTPs in preparation for the Normandy invasion 

and follow-on operations in Western Europe.29

In Quesada, Eisenhower had exactly what he wanted—an experienced 

and respected combat air leader who remained a staunch advocate of CAS. 

Quesada’s experience gave him a clear view of the halting advances in the 

use of tactical airpower in Tunisia and the Mediterranean, and the remaining 

challenges that needed solutions. In dealing with these challenges, Quesada—now an empowered agent of 

change—worked 

closely with ground 

commanders to improve mission coordination and develop CAS TTPs that 

proved essential in 

the coming campaigns.30

Quesada worked 

relentlessly preparing his pilots for their 

tactical support mission. He sent newly 

arrived pilots to the 

Mediterranean to 

learn from tactical air 

units operating there 

and share their new 

knowledge with their 

peers. He led training 

events in which his 

Figure 9.1. Major General Elwood R. “Pete” Quesada, 

Commander, IX Fighter Command. Photo courtesy of 

US Army Center of Military History.
170

pilots practiced bombing and strafing techniques, essentially creating optimal 

procedures from scratch. In the weeks before Operation Cobra, Quesada’s 

pilots roamed the skies over France daily, attacking troop concentrations, 

strong points, and troop transports. By co-locating his advance Command 

Post (CP) with Bradley’s, Quesada worked with supported units to develop 

new procedures for CAS. To resolve communication problems with ground 

units, he had VHF radios installed in tanks, operated by a pilot serving in the 

tank crew. These tanks led columns in the advance, with the air liaison providing target information to fighter-bomber escorts. Referred to as armored 

column cover, this method greatly enhanced the speed and effectiveness of 

armored advances. Similarly, he provided VHF radios to ground unit CPs, 

enabling tactical aircraft to provide area cover for advancing units, directed by 

a reconnaissance aircraft in communication with ground forces. These methods, employed by the IX Tactical Air Command throughout the campaigns in 

Western Europe, enabled the most effective CAS US Army ground units had 

ever received, greatly enhancing their offensive power.31

By June 1944 Operation Pointblank, the strategic bombing campaign against Germany’s industrial centers, had damaged German morale 

and production capacity—but not to the degree anticipated by Arnold’s 

AWPD. However, in defending Germany from air attacks, the Luftwaffe 

lost aircraft and crews at an unsustainable rate. Tactical air support both 

before and after D-Day focused on the destruction of airfields, supply depots, and transportation infrastructure, while high-altitude heavy bombers 

and fighter-bombers crippled the road, railroad, and communication networks, effectively isolating Normandy and preventing much-needed reinforcements and materiel arriving from Germany.32

These preparatory operations also compelled the Luftwaffe to fight, 

enabling the Allies to establish control of the skies over France before 

D-Day. The Western Allies enjoyed air superiority for the rest of the war 

in Europe (although anti-aircraft artillery remained a threat, particularly to 

low-flying aircraft). Eisenhower later wrote that the Western Allies’ success in the critical early stages of the Normandy invasion depended in 

large measure on Allied dominance of the air.33

The Anglo-American Allies advanced slowly after the initial invasion 

and establishment of beachheads in Normandy. To the east, Lieutenant 

General Miles C. Dempsey’s British Second Army had not yet secured the 

city of Caen, an objective that Field Marshal Sir Bernard L. Montgomery, 

21st Army Group and overall land forces commander, had planned to capture on D-Day. German control of Caen left a vital crossroads in enemy 
171

hands and offered a route for a German counterattack that could potentially endanger the Allied beachheads. Further, Caen’s road network controlled movement to the open terrain east and southeast of the city. Most 

significantly, the protracted battle to secure Caen served as a daily reminder of the Allies’ slow progress, damaging morale up and down the chain 

of command. Historian Martin Blumenson described the failure to capture 

Caen by 1 July as “the greatest single disappointment of the invasion.”34

To the west, Lieutenant General Omar Bradley’s American First Army 

remained bogged down in the bocage, terrain that Eisenhower described 

in a letter to Army Chief of Staff General George C. Marshall on 5 July 

1944: “Our whole attack has to fight its way out of very narrow bottlenecks 

First US

XXXX

Second Br.

The Bocage Country

2 July 1944

0 5 10 15 20 Miles

N

France



Le Havre

 



















Allied Front

2 July 1944

Caen

Falaise

Argentan





Cherbourg

Corenton

Lessay

St. Lo

Coumont

St. Malo Avranches

Mayenne

Alençon

Bocage

Marsh

English Channel

Gulf of St. Malo

Normandy

Fougères

Maine

Brittany

Figure 9.2. “The Bocage Country” in Normandy, France, June 1944. Map created 

by Army University Press, courtesy of the US Army Center of Military History.
172

flanked by marshes and against an enemy who has a double hedgerow 

and an intervening ditch almost every fifty yards as ready-made strong 

points.”35 This network of sunken ditches covered by dense hedgerows 

made a checkerboard of the Norman countryside, providing excellent cover and concealment for German defenses in depth. While fighting in the 

bocage, the First Army measured its daily progress in yards, at the cost of 

28,346 casualties through 22 June.36

A lack of port facilities further delayed the Allied advance as the front 

moved away from the beachhead, lengthening supply lines. The original 

invasion plan called for the liberation of Cherbourg, the port nearest to 

the invasion beaches, as quickly as possible after securing the beachhead. 

This would clear the way for Lieutenant General George S. Patton’s Third 

Army to occupy the American right flank and clear Brittany of German 

forces before turning east toward Germany.37

By mid-June 1944, both Bradley and Montgomery, worried that the 

front might devolve into a WWI-style stalemate, began planning breakthrough operations. After nearly three weeks of struggling through the 

bocage, the Allies needed to reach open terrain where their armored and 

mechanized divisions could take advantage of their mobility and force the 

determined German defenders to retreat.38

Eisenhower’s chief of staff, Brigadier General Walter “Beetle” Smith 

assessed the situation:

On June 24th, when the Supreme Commander visited Bradley, it 

was plain that we would soon have Cherbourg, and the need for 

elbow room was becoming very important. The Supreme Commander had already made up his mind that the full weight of US 

strength should be used to break out into the open on our right. 

By June 30th the British Army had not captured Caen, and now 

Montgomery issued his first directive that showed an intention of 

holding on the left and breaking through on the right. He directed 

the British to contain the greatest possible part of the enemy forces [in support of American breakthrough operations]. . . . However, as late as July 7th, Montgomery, in a letter to the Supreme 

Commander, was uncertain at which point our main effort would 

have to be made.39

This uncertainty did not bode well for the success of a future breakthrough attempt. With combined operations about to commence on both 

sides of a boundary between Allied armies, Montgomery, as overall commander of Allied land forces, should have made his intent clear both up 
173

and down the chain of command. Instead, planning continued in the British Second Army and the American First Army headquarters in parallel, 

with minimal integration of effort or information sharing.40

In early July, Dempsey’s Second Army gained Montgomery’s approval to conduct Operation Goodwood, intended to finally secure Caen and 

occupy the open terrain southeast of the city. Having seemingly developed 

high hopes for a British breakout, Montgomery assured Eisenhower that 

his “whole eastern flank” would “burst into flames,” although the details 

of his plan remained unclear to both Eisenhower and First US Army.41

To open the way for a penetration by British armored columns, Montgomery requested (and received) maximum air support to conduct preparatory bombing throughout the attack corridor. To avoid cratering along 

the maneuver corridor, heavy bombers carpeted the area in and around 

Cain that remained in German control while medium- and fighter-bombers engaged enemy positions with 100-pound bombs and strafing attacks. 

Still, as the bombing ended and Dempsey’s troops crossed the line of departure, many of the German troops emerged from foxholes and trenches 

to occupy well-constructed strongpoints, forming a powerful defense in 

depth. Dempsey’s attack stalled after several hours, at which point Montgomery reverted to a defensive posture. Despite its failed attempt at a 

breakthrough, Goodwood accomplished its secondary objective of tying 

down most German panzer units in the area. This left the line in front of 

Bradley’s First Army relatively strong, but lacking in depth and still short 

on armored support.42

Operation Cobra 

Meanwhile, Bradley and his subordinate air and ground commanders 

made final preparations for Operation Cobra as the fighting in the Cherbourg Peninsula continued. With Cherbourg finally captured in late June, 

Bradley ordered his forces on the peninsula to leave behind just enough 

troops to retain control of the city and redeploy the rest to the south to 

rejoin the First Army’s front line. In early July, Bradley ordered VII Corps 

to continue the offensive in the south, in hopes of reaching the eastern 

edge of bocage country in preparation for a breakthrough attempt. After several days of fighting, elements of VII Corps captured the city of 

St. Lô on 18 July, weakening the German line on both sides of the city. 

Bradley’s forces—now in control of key terrain that served as a gateway 

to the open ground east of the hedgerows—consolidated and awaited the 

breakthrough operation scheduled for 21 July (bad weather forced Bradley 

to postpone Cobra until 24 July).43
174

Bradley planned to conduct the breakthrough at a weakly defended 

point just west of St. Lô, where Major General Joe Collins’ reinforced 

VII Corps would penetrate the German lines after an intense preparatory 

bombardment. Upon achieving a breakthrough, Collins would expand and 

hold the gap open with infantry divisions while armored and mechanized 

divisions poured through the opening, bypassing strong points and enveloping or pursuing retreating units. The plan for Operation Cobra included 

a massive preparatory bombing that American medium and heavy strategic bombers, along with fighter-bombers of the American IX Tactical Air 

Force, would carry out.44

During the planning for Cobra, Bradley and Collins—whose VII 

Corps would lead the breakthrough attempt—met with the senior leaders 

of the American air organizations scheduled to support the attack. Historian Steve Ossad has described this fateful meeting in detail. The exact 

origins of the preparatory bombing plan remain unclear, although Major 

General Quesada recommended to Bradley as early as 18 June that any 

breakthrough attempt should begin with a massive bombardment using 

heavy, medium, and fighter bombers. Whatever the original source of the 

idea, Bradley maintained throughout the planning for Cobra that success 

would rely on a massive preparatory bombardment.45

Bradley met with the senior air commanders who would support this 

operation on 19 July, hoping to ensure complete understanding of the plan 

and gain their support. At this meeting, Bradley described the air support plan developed by his planners and air liaison officers from Quesada’s IX and XIX Tactical Air Forces. Bradley intended to exploit the 

effects of a massive preparatory air bombardment of a 7,000-yard-wide by 

2,500-yard-deep rectangular area directly in front of First Army’s position, 

just south of a straight road running northwest to southeast towards St. 

Lô. Bradley noted that this road would serve as a useful navigation aid for 

pilots, who could simply follow the road to the target area, flying parallel 

to the long northern edge of the rectangular objective.46

Although Bradley left the meeting believing that he had gained 

concurrence on the use of a parallel flight path, leaders from bomber 

command believed that they had argued successfully against a parallel 

approach. Ultimately, air planners adjusted the approach to run perpendicular, not parallel to the northern long edge of the target area, since 

only a perpendicular approach would enable more than 2,000 bombers to 

strike the target area in the one hour allotted. Still, the air planners never 

communicated this change to First Army.47
175

Another topic of debate involved how far away from the target area 

front line troops would wait during the preparatory bombing. If units did 

not withdraw far enough they risked casualties caused by errant bombs; if 

they withdrew too far, they risked giving the enemy too much time to recover from the bombing’s effects before engagement by ground maneuver 

units. While a Ninth Air Force report on CAS during operations to clear 

Cherbourg noted the importance of “Immediate Follow-Up,” its claim that 

careful planning could allow ground troops to remain within 500 yards of 

the bomb line seems overly optimistic.48 Bradley initially proposed withdrawing front line units only 800 yards, while a senior liaison officer representing the US Eighth Air Force argued for a minimum distance of 3,000 

yards. After some debate, Bradley and the air commanders agreed to 1,500 

yards, although this distance had proven inadequate in previous missions.49

After days of waiting for the weather to clear, 24 July looked promising; but after more than 2,000 bombers departed air bases in England, low 

clouds over the objective led to a weather recall. About half the bombers 

received the recall order and complied, but the rest, already beyond radio 

range, continued to the target area. As Collins’ reinforced VII Corps waited to attack, waves of medium and fighter-bombers arrived over the target 

area as Bradley and his personal staff watched from an advance CP a few 

thousand yards away. Everything seemed to be going well until the heavy 

bombers began to arrive over the objective via a perpendicular approach, 

dropping thousands of tons of bombs—some in the target area, and many 

others south of it, on top of US troops. Confusion and chaos set in as 

the “short drops” caused 156 casualties, including 25 killed. Bradley cancelled the operation as his staff tried to sort out the extent of the damage.50

Despite frustration over the perpendicular bomb line and the friendly 

casualties, Bradley approved another attempt for the next day, 25 July. This 

time weather did not interfere, so the full complement of bombers—the 

largest tactical ground support bombardment to date—approached the target 

area with the heavy bombers once again making a perpendicular approach. 

Massive clouds of dust quickly obscured the road and dispersed smoke intended to mark the objective, and once again bombs began to fall on American troops, this time resulting in 601 casualties, including 111 killed.51

General Lesley J. McNair, selected by Eisenhower to replace Patton 

as the commander of the fictional First US Army Group (FUSAG), visited 

the front in Normandy enroute to his new assignment in England, where 

the highly successful Operation Fortitude continued to tie up German forces awaiting another amphibious assault in the Pas de Calais region. While 

his presence at the front was intended to make his replacement of Pat-
176

ton more plausible, it also led to 

his death. After experiencing a 

close call on the morning of the 

24th, McNair promised not to 

observe the next day’s barrage 

from the front lines. However, after Soldiers told him how 

much they appreciated his presence at the front, McNair once 

again occupied a slit trench dangerously close to the objective 

area on the 25th, where an errant 

bomb struck a direct hit, throwing McNair’s body many yards. 

Hearing rumors of the death of 

a three-star general at the front, 

McNair’s aides rushed forward 

after the bombing ended. They 

managed only to find his West 

Point class ring and the threestar insignia from his uniform. 

The loss of the highly respected 

and capable McNair added to the grief of the American forces—particularly the senior leaders.52

Several factors coalesced to create the conditions that led to the tragic 

events of 24 and 25 July 1944—events that nearly ended Operation Cobra before the ground forces could strike. Only the initiative of perceptive 

corps and division commanders—who shook off the effects of the second 

morning in a row of casualties caused by errant bombs—enabled the Americans to finally break through the German line west of St. Lô on the night of 

25 July. Despite the determined enemy resistance, Collins observed signs 

that indicated serious trouble in the German defenses. “Noting a lack of 

coordination in the German reaction, particularly in their failure to launch 

prompt counterattacks, I sensed that their communications and command 

structure had been damaged more than our front-line troops realized.” 53

Collins and his division commanders planned to exploit their success.

Bradley approved Collins’ request to continue the attack the next day, 

when his mechanized forces pushed even farther behind the shattered 

enemy lines, converting a planned breakthrough into a highly successful breakout operation. Benefiting greatly from the vast improvements in 

Figure 9.3. General Lesley J. McNair, 

Commander, Army Forces Command. 

Photo courtesy of the US Army Center of 

Military History.
177

American tactical air support since the campaign in Tunisia, VII Corps 

penetrated enemy lines on 26 July, routing the shaken German defenders 

and setting conditions for exploitation over the coming days. Indicating 

the extent of the German collapse, the commander of the Panzer Lehr

division reported his unit “finally annihilated” on 27 July.54

Perhaps most significantly, the air-tank team concept worked brilliantly, as air liaisons operating from tanks directed fighter-bombers 

over enemy strong points and armored columns, clearing the way for the 

ground troops’ rapid advance. Months of practice perfecting new TTPs 

before Operation Cobra resulted in the most effective tactical CAS the US 

Army had received to date.55

While the preparatory bombing for Operation Cobra enabled the conversion of Bradley’s breakthrough operation into a true breakout, the high 

cost in friendly casualties left many senior leaders disheartened. Eisenhower declared that he would never again use heavy bombers for CAS, although time would ease his frustration. As the Anglo-American Allies continued the advance toward Germany, strategic bombers remained a source 

of cross-domain firepower during major operations. Never again, however, 

did they achieve the level of success enjoyed during Operation Cobra.

By contrast, the development of new TTPs for tactical CAS—largely 

a result of Quesada’s tireless efforts—helped make Eisenhower’s goal of 

effective CAS a reality. Throughout the remaining operations in Western 

Europe, Quesada’s IX Tactical Air Force continued to provide highly responsive and effective CAS to American troops, while bombardment theory advocates stubbornly continued to pursue strategic victory from the air.

Conclusion

The post-war Air Force drew surprising conclusions from the employment of airpower during WWII. The use of atomic bombs over Hiroshima 

and Nagasaki in 1945 gave airpower theorists a new weapon around which 

they could justify a resurgence of strategic bombing theory as an independent, war-winning option. Air-ground relationships ebbed once again, hindering critical thinking about the future of combined arms and relegating 

development of cross-domain tactical fires once again to a low-priority 

mission. In later wars, CAS improved slowly as the threat of a common 

enemy led to improved air-ground relationships and, eventually, well-established CAS procedures.56

Today’s US military can learn much from Operation Cobra that would 

ensure better preparation for America’s next war against a peer- or nearpeer enemy. The AAC’s strong embrace of strategic bombardment theory 
178

during the interwar years impeded critical thinking about the future role of 

aircraft as part of the combined arms team. This led to the degradation of 

tactical airpower doctrine, equipment, training, and technology, severely 

limiting the effectiveness of cross-domain, air-to-ground fires as the US 

Army entered WWII. While modern technology and new TTPs have improved the overall effectiveness of CAS in counterinsurgency and stability 

operations over the past 17 years, the combined arms principle of close 

multi-domain cooperation remains a matter of debate.57

To avoid poor cross-domain coordination in future conflicts, the services must prioritize combined-arms effectiveness higher than the pursuit 

of service-specific theories or dogma. During the interwar period, the 

Army Air Force’s dogged determination to achieve independence from 

Army Ground Forces led not only to development of an incompatible theory of air operations, but also to minimal participation in pre-war maneuvers, depriving air and ground personnel of the opportunity to develop 

effective CAS TTPs in training.

As Clausewitz argued, critical thinking about military theory requires 

objective analysis of relevant historical case studies. Only this sort of unbiased critical analysis, combined with realistic and arduous training, can 

enable the conversion of theory into sound, well-tested doctrine. Without 

this critical thinking and effective combined arms training, the US military 

remains at risk of relearning the same difficult lessons about the use of 

airpower in the next large-scale combat operation.

Additionally, friction among coalition partners can further degrade 

the combat readiness of an allied force. This challenge, caused by many 

factors including differing cultural perspectives and operational concepts, plagued the Anglo-American Allies throughout WWII, leading to 

disagreements over the proper use of airpower and difficulty reaching a 

common understanding, much less consensus, when planning air support 

for major operations.

Finally, senior leaders must look for and enable change agents, much 

like Marshall and Arnold did for Pete Quesada. While he could do little to effect bombardment theory’s stranglehold over interwar airpower 

concepts, Quesada acted as an agent of change in the employment of 

tactical air support of ground troops. His close cooperation with ground 

commanders, careful observation and development of cross-domain TTPs, 

and passionate leadership of the IX Tactical Air Force kept tactical air-toground support alive despite the hostile climate created by the embrace 

of bombardment theory and the cultural and theoretical differences that 
179

created friction among the Anglo-American Allies. Quesada’s efforts as 

an agent of change emerged as one of WWII’s most significant contingent 

events. Today’s senior military leaders must empower such change agents 

to overcome the deleterious effects of decades of air-ground animosity and 

doctrinal inconsistency—a challenge that remains operative to this day.

Although today’s US Air Force has supported ground troops with 

CAS during 16 years of combat in Afghanistan and Iraq, its pilots have not 

flown CAS in contested airspace or against a near-peer threat. As the US 

Army shifts its focus to large-scale combat operations, Army-Air Force 

relationships must form and doctrine must develop in an objective, collaborative manner to avoid another instance of learning in combat what the 

services could have practiced in pre-war training.
180

Notes

1. Rick Maze, “Radical Change Is Coming: Gen. Mark A. Milley Not 

Talking About Just Tinkering around the Edges,” 13 December 2016, accessed 

18 May 2018, https://www.ausa.org/articles/ radical-change-coming-gen-markmilley-not-talking-about-just-tinkering-around-edges; Lieutenant General 

Michael D. Lundy, Commander, US Army Combined Arms Center reinforced 

these concerns in his foreword to the Army’s most recent operational doctrine. 

See Department of the Army, Field Manual (FM) 3-0, Operations (Washington, 

DC: 2017).

2. US Army Capabilities Integration Center, “Multi-Domain Battle: Evolution of Combined Arms for the 21st Century, 2025–2040,” December 2017.

3. Carl von Clausewitz, On War, ed. Michael Howard and Peter Paret, trans. 

Michael Howard and Peter Paret (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 

1984), 122.

4. von Clausewitz, 156.

5. Russell B. Fette, “Ebb and Flow: Maintaining the Close Air Support Relationship through History” (master’s thesis, US Army School of Advanced Military 

Studies, 2016). The term “close air support” was not yet in use during World War 

II; both air and ground personnel typically referred to “direct support to ground 

forces” or simply “air support.” For consistency, CAS is used throughout.

6. Fette, 82–84.

7. Giulio Douhet, “The Command of the Air,” in Roots of Strategy: Book 

4, ed. David Jablonsky (Mechanicsburg, PA: Stackpole Books, 1999), 260–407; 

William Mitchell, “Winged Defense,” in Roots of Strategy: Book 4, 408–515; for 

more detail on the historical context in which strategic bombing theory developed, see Azar Gat, “Futurism, Proto-Fascist Italian Culture, and the Sources of 

Douhetism,” in A History of Military Thought: From the Enlightenment to the 

Cold War (New York: Oxford University Press, 2001), 561–597.

8. Thomas A. Hughes, Overlord: General Pete Quesada and the Triumph of 

Tactical Airpower in World War II (New York: The Free Press, 1995), 54.

9. Hughes, 52–55.

10. David M. Kennedy, Freedom from Fear: The American People in 

Depression and War, 1929–1945 (New York: Oxford University Press, 2001), 

615–19; Hughes, Overlord: General Pete Quesada, 53–54, 79.

11. Quoted in Hughes, Overlord: General Pete Quesada, 55.

12. For more on agents of change, see Kirk C. Dorr, “Developing Agents of 

Change” (master’s thesis, School of Advanced Military Studies, 2003), accessed 

3 June 2018, http://cgsc.cdmhost.com /u?/p4013coll3,17; Hughes, Overlord, 

59–63.

13. Hughes, Overlord, 47–49.

14. Hughes, 47–49, 75.

15. Hughes, 82.

16. Hughes, 82.

17. Hughes, 79–81.
181

18. Hughes, Overlord, 84–86; For a description of the Americans’ first tank 

battle with German forces, see Freeland A. Daubin, “The Battle of Happy Valley” (Monograph, The Armored School, 1948).

19. Eisenhower to Churchill, “The Papers of Dwight David Eisenhower,” 

Johns Hopkins University Press, accessed 17 April 2018, https://eisenhower.

press.jhu.edu, 741; Hughes, Overlord, 86–87.

20. Eisenhower to Arnold, “Eisenhower Papers,” 654; Eisenhower to Combined Chiefs of Staff and British Chiefs of Staff, “Eisenhower Papers,” 747.

21. Eisenhower to Arnold,19 January 1943 “Eisenhower Papers,” 778; 

Eisenhower to Marshall, 8 February 1943, “Eisenhower Papers,” 810n1.

22. Daniel R. Mortensen, A Pattern for Joint Operations: World War II 

Close Air Support, North Africa (Washington, DC: Office of Air Force History 

and US Army Center of Military History, 1987), 84–88.

23. Quoted in Hughes, Overlord, 109; for more on the War Department reorganization in March, 1942, see Forrest C. Pogue, George C. Marshall: Ordeal 

and Hope, 1939–1942 (New York: Viking Press, 1966), 289–297; Mortensen, A 

Pattern for Joint Operations, 86.

24. “Foreign Relations of the United States” (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 2010), accessed 3 June 2018, https://history.state.gov/

historicaldocuments/frus1943Cairo Tehran; Eisenhower Memorandum for Diary, 

6 December 1943, “Eisenhower Papers,” 1408; Eisenhower to Marshall, 17 

December 1943, “Eisenhower Papers,” 1423.

25. Eisenhower to Marshall, 17 December 1943, 1423.

26. Eisenhower to Marshall, 23 December 1943, 1426; Eisenhower to Marshall, 26 December 1943, 1439.

27. Eisenhower to Marshall, 25 December 1943, 1428; Hughes, Overlord, 

111–114. 

28. Eisenhower Memorandum (for the record), 22 March 1944, “Eisenhower Papers,” 1601.

29. Hughes, Overlord, 121.

30. Dorr, “Developing Agents of Change,” accessed 3 June 2018, http://

cgsc.cdmhost.com/u?/p4013coll3, 17; Hughes, Overlord, 126.

31. Martin Blumenson, Breakout and Pursuit, US Army in World War II: 

European Theater of Operations (Washington, DC: US Army Center of Military 

History, 1961; repr., 2005), 207–208; Steven L. Ossad, Omar Nelson Bradley: 

America’s GI General, 1893–1981 (Columbia: University of Missouri Press, 

2017), 210–211; Hughes, Overlord, 129, 159–169; Michael D. Doubler, Closing 

with the Enemy: How the GIs Fought the War in Europe, 1944–1945, Modern 

War Studies (Lawrence, KS: University Press of Kansas, 1994), 63–86. 

32. Army Air Forces Historical Studies No. 36, “Ninth Air Force, April to 

Nov 1944, 140–170.

33. Dwight D. Eisenhower, “Report by the Supreme Commander to the 

Combined Chiefs of Staff on the Operations in Europe of the Allied Expeditionary Force, 6 June 1944 to 8 May 1945” (Washington, DC: Center of Military 

History, 1994), 28.
182

34. Blumenson, Breakout and Pursuit, 13–15.

35. Eisenhower to Marshall, “The Eisenhower Papers,” 1796.

36. Blumenson, Breakout and Pursuit, 10–13; William C. Sylvan and Francis G. Smith Jr., Normandy to Victory: The War Diary of General Courney H. 

Hodges & the First US Army, ed. John T. Greenwood (Lexington, KY: University Press of Kentucky, 2008), 30, 55; Steven L. Ossad, America’s GI General, 

197; Doubler, Closing with the Enemy, 31–62.

37. Blumenson, Breakout and Pursuit, 209–10.

38. Eisenhower to Bradley, 8 July 1944, 1810.

39. Eisenhower to Bradley, 1 July 1944, 1794 (emphasis in the original).

40. Eisenhower to Bradley, 1 July 1944, 1794.

41. Quoted in Blumenson, Breakout and Pursuit, 190; Eisenhower to Bradley, 1 July 1944, 1794.

42. Blumenson, Breakout and Pursuit, 188–196

43. Blumenson, 172–82.

44. Blumenson, 220–21.

45. Ossad, America’s GI General, 205.

46. Ossad, 212–20.

47. Ossad, 220–23.

48. “9th Air Force Operations, 1–30 June, 1944, With Special Study of 

Close Support in the Assault on Cherbourg.”

49. Ossad, America’s GI General, 217–21; “9th Air Force Operations, 1–30 

June 1944, With Special Study of Close Support in the Assault on Cherbourg.”

50. Blumenson, Breakout and Pursuit, 228–29.

51. Blumenson, 231–36.

52. Mark T. Calhoun, General Lesley J. McNair: Unsung Architect of the 

US Army (Lawrence, KS: University Press of Kansas, 2015), 320–26; Smith to 

Marshall, “Eisenhower Papers,” 1803.

53. Quoted in Ossad, America’s GI General, 225.

54. Blumenson, Breakout and Pursuit, 273.

55. Mark J. Reardon, Victory at Mortain: Stopping Hitler’s Panzer Counteroffensive (Lawrence, KS: University Press of Kansas, 2002), 12, 294–95; 

Doubler, Closing with the Enemy, 63–86; Hughes, Overlord, 163–91; 228.

56. Fette, “Ebb and Flow,” 80.

57. Fette, 82–84.
183

Chapter 10

Fires and Combined Arms Maneuver: The Battle 

of Vimy Ridge, 9 April 1917

David Thuell and Thomas G. Bradbeer

Throughout the period of trench warfare, the objective of all the 

combatants on the Western front was the restoration of mobility to 

the battle. While a visualisation of the battlefield would suggest 

that its static nature was due to the rows of trenches and belts of 

barbed wire, it was essentially, the superiority of defensive firepower of that of the offensive which led to both the struggle’s indecisiveness and its appalling levels of bloodshed. The principal 

source of this firepower was the artillery; manoeuvre in the face 

of unsuppressed modern ordnance proved an extremely hazardous 

and costly operation.1

—Albert Palazzo

The Industrial Revolution of the 19th Century, brought about a technical revolution in the development of weapons. This revolution increased 

the efficiencies of the weapons to the point where, by 1914, they completely dominated the battlefield. The battlefield being comprised of three 

key elements—firepower, mobility, and protection. At the start of the First 

World War, firepower was the dominant element, and the main source of 

firepower during the war was artillery. It is estimated that 60 percent of all 

casualties during the war were inflicted by artillery fire.2

 This dominance 

is the reason why all large-scale offensive operations failed to achieve 

their objectives on the Western Front until April 1917.

On 9 April 1917, the Canadian Corps as part of the British First Army, 

launched a well-coordinated and synchronized attack against three German divisions of the German Sixth Army defending Vimy Ridge just 

north of Arras, France. At the same time the British Third Army, under the 

command of Sir Edmund Allenby, attacked along the Scarpe River toward 

Arras. The Canadian Corps attack was significant in that it was the first 

time the four Canadian divisions, totaling 97,184 men, operated in combat 

together.3

 The British 5th Infantry Division was attached to the Canadian 

Corps for this operation. Attacking on a four mile front, the Canadians 

pushed the entrenched German divisions off of Vimy Ridge in a four day 

battle. Vimy Ridge would prove to be one of the greatest tactical successes 

for the British Expeditionary Force (BEF) during the entire war.4

 More importantly “For Canadians, Vimy Ridge was a nation-building experience. 
184

For some, then and later, it symbolized the fact that the Great War was also 

Canada’s war of independence.”5

The Canadians were able to overcome the superiority of firepower 

over the offensive and achieve all of their objectives assigned to the Corps 

by capturing the ridge that rose 480 feet above the Douai plain. Since October 1914 the Germans had defended the ridge against the French Army 

and fought off two major attacks, in May and September 1915 respectively, and inflicting more than 150,000 French casualties.6

 The ridge was significant in that it enabled the German defenders to possess a commanding 

view of the allied lines for many miles in three directions. 

The Canadians were able to capture Vimy Ridge for a number of reasons. First and foremost, the soldiers were well led, well trained, and adequately equipped.7

 They were also, for the most part, combat veterans, having fought on the Western Front since their introduction to combat during 

the Battle of Second Ypres in April 1915. They gained even more experience during the Battle of the Somme in 1916. By early 1917 the Canadian 

soldier had earned a reputation of being among the best soldiers in the BEF.8

Significant to the performance of the Canadian Corps during the battle 

of Vimy Ridge was the fact that the Canadians applied three significant 

changes to their doctrine in the months before the operation. The first two 

changes involved the use of artillery; the third change had to do with the 

employment of infantry during offensive operations.

During the winter of 1916–1917, the British and Canadian artillery 

changed its tactical doctrine from conducting artillery barrages aimed at 

destroying enemy targets and instead implemented barrages that would 

neutralize the target. The second change in artillery doctrine involved the 

creation of the Counter-Battery Staff Office (CBSO). This was done to 

increase the effectiveness of the British artillery against its German counterpart. The third doctrinal change took place in the area of small unit tactics, empowering platoon commanders to use their initiative and to make 

decisions that would normally be done by their company or battalion commanders. “Regardless of how much planning preceded an attack, lone soldiers or small parties were often the only means of overcoming stubborn 

resistance on the Great War battlefields.”9

Artillery in the Great War

The application of British Artillery in First World War went through 

four distinct phases between 1914 and 1918. The first phase was “Inadequacy,” where the artillery was ill-prepared for the many challenges they 

would experience, most especially in the areas of fire-planning, massing 
185

guns, and concentrating fires where it would influence the battle. In 1915 

the second phase evolved into “Experimentation and Build up,” with more 

advanced guns and howitzers being developed, along with better and larger supplies of ammunition, to include the use of gas. Tactically, the artillery formations learned that if an infantry assault was to be successful they 

had to produce a barrage that would better protect the attacking infantry. 

The result was the “lifting” barrage.10

By 1916 the third phase, “Destruction,” became the focus, most especially on the Western Front. The “lifting barrage” was still used but 

evolved into the “rolling barrage,” and British leaders decided that the 

only way to defeat an entrenched enemy was to conduct a massive days 

or weeks long bombardment that would “crush” all resistance. Within the 

British Army, the Royal Artillery was “tasked to restore infantry mobility 

by winning the firefight at the cost of surprise.”11 Massing and concentrating fires was evolving, and the inclusion of an artillery commander 

in every British corps headquarter, greatly improved both command and 

control of resources but also improved combined arms coordination. The 

close battle remained the focus. During the BEF’s major offensive operation on the Western Front in 1916, the Battle of the Somme, the Royal Artillery divided its fire support plan into three phases: the preliminary bombardment (which was planned to last seven days), the protective barrage 

(as the infantry walked across no-man’s land), and the exploitation and 

consolidation phase (if and when the German lines were breeched).12 A 

major consideration for the use of “destruction” fires was the vast amount 

of logistics support required, primarily the amount of artillery ammunition. It took weeks to transport and stockpile the enormous amounts of 

ammunition required for a two or three day barrage prior to the star of an 

offensive operation. No matter how many guns were available to support 

an attack, if there was not enough ammunition to sustain a high rate of fire, 

both before and during the attack, British and French commanders would 

reduce the scale of the operations and narrow the sector of attack based on 

the density of fire available.13

By early 1917 the Royal Artillery began to focus on “Neutralization,” 

the fourth and final phase.14 The artillery’s primary purpose was no longer 

to aid the infantry by destroying machine guns and obstacles, such as dense 

belts of barbed wire but instead shifted to neutralizing enemy artillery.

The Canadian Corps attack on Vimy Ridge represented a half way 

point between destruction and neutralization, as the preparatory artillery 

barrage was to be destructive, but the creeping barrage that was to be fired 

during the actual attack was to neutralize the enemy artillery. “The Brit-
186

ish First Army’s Artillery Plan for the attack on Vimy Ridge in February 

1917 identified that . . . at the opening of the Infantry attack the policy of 

destruction must give way to neutralization.”15

The creeping barrage, the use of heavy machine guns, the firing of 

smoke, and gas barrages all represented fundamental changes in the use of 

artillery. While three of these types of artillery barrages could be lethal to 

exposed infantry, they were not intended to be destructive. They were all 

intended to neutralize the Germans entrenched in their defensive positions. 

The creeping barrage that was fired by the artillery in support of the 

Canadian Corps attack on Vimy Ridge was in fact a neutralizing barrage. 

“The concentrated drumfire from artillery and machine guns keeps the enemy in his deep dugouts. When the barrage lifts he hasn’t time to come out 

of his subterranean galleries to work his machine guns before our infantry 

are on top of him.”16 By forcing the Germans to remain under cover, the 

creeping barrage provided the attacking infantry with the protection they 

needed to close with the enemy. 

As Lieutenant Colonel Chalmers Johnston, Commander of the 2nd 

Canadian Mounted Rifle Battalion, noted about his battalions advance on 

the day of the attack. “Owing to the rapid advance behind our curtain 

fire, enemy machine guns had no time to get into action.”17 There was no 

advantage to be gained by spending additional time and ammunition in 

trying to destroy the enemy’s dugouts, when the creeping barrage would 

prevent the Germans from firing on the advancing Canadians.

The Use of Smoke and Gas Barrages

Before launching their attack on Vimy Ridge, the infantry brigade 

commanders from the 4th Canadian Division requested that their artillery 

support include a smoke barrage to conceal the infantry’s advance from 

the German defenders on Hill 145 (the highest point of the ridge) and the 

knoll even further north of the ridge known as “The Pimple.”18 The 4th 

Canadian Division’s senior artillery commander agreed that “the most efficient plan was to neutralize [The Pimple] with smoke.”19

At 0530 on Easter Monday, 9 April, the Canadian artillery began to 

fire a creeping barrage as the infantry left their trenches. Though the artillery fired a smoke barrage throughout the morning on Hill 145 and The 

Pimple, the wintry weather conditions gradually opened major gaps in the 

smoke screen and the greatest fears of Major General David Watson, the 

commanding general of the 4th Division, came true. The Germans entrenched on the Pimple poured a murderous fire into the attacking Canadian infantry as they crossed no-man’s land toward Hill 145. The Canadians 
187

also included a heavy machine gun barrage to help minimize the enfilade 

fire coming from the Pimple, but regardless of the smoke screen and machine gun fire, the 4th Division suffered heavy casualties with several battalions sustaining more than 50 percent casualties.20 By the end of the first 

day of the battle, Hill 145 and the Pimple remained under German control. 

It would be another 24 hours before the Canadians captured these two key 

terrain features. The untested 85th Infantry Battalion from Nova Scotia 

captured Hill 145 after a dusk attack on 10 April, amazingly without an 

artillery barrage to support them.21

Gas artillery shells began to arrive in the Canadian Corps sector in 

March 1917. Lieutenant Colonel Andrew McNaughton, as Canadian 

Counter-Battery Officer (CCBO,) took a page from a French Army officer, Lieutenant Colonel Pascal Lucas who wrote, “the neutralization of 

personnel [by gas] could supplement the always incomplete destruction 

of defensive organizations.”22 As a result the Canadian Corps artillery began using gas shells primarily against German artillery positions. At this 

point in the war, both sides had effective anti-gas drills in place and suffered relatively few casualties from gas. The British and Canadians used 

gas primarily as a harassing agent at this point of the war. By firing it at 

the German artillery positions, it would force the gun crews to wear their 

gas masks while they tried to fire their guns, effectively reducing their rate 

of fire by nearly half.23

Figure 10.1. “The Taking of Vimy Ridge, Easter Monday 1917.” Courtesy of the 

Canadian War Museum.
188

Firing a neutralizing gas barrage did not require the same level of accuracy as attempting to fire a destructive, high explosive barrage. The gas 

shells could actually miss the German batteries but still be close enough that 

the crews would be forced to wear their protective masks, decreasing their 

efficiency. On the actual day of the attack gas barrages were fired on most 

of the German artillery batteries. Hauptmann Behrmann, Reserve Infantry 

Regiment 261, noted the results. “Many of the guns were swiftly overrun. 

Hundreds of horses were killed in the initial gas attack, so there was no 

means of dragging them to the rear when they were threatened.”24 By killing 

the horses in the initial gas barrage, the artillery actually immobilized the 

German artillery batteries, allowing the attacking Canadian infantry to capture 63 German artillery pieces during the battle of Vimy Ridge.25

The Use of Machine Guns for Neutralizing Fires

In February of 1917, the Canadian Corps began using heavy machine 

guns to assist the Field and Heavy artillery with their barrages. From 4 

February 1917, the War Diaries of the 2nd Canadian Infantry Brigade, 

provide a list of some of the targets assigned to the heavy machine guns: 

“Brigade machine guns carried out programme of indirect fire against German trench railways, Roads, X Roads, Hqrs & Field Kitchens.”26 The 4th 

Canadian Division noted that in the nights leading up to the attack, its 

machine guns fired “on average 15,000 rounds a night, spread out over the 

whole German rear area, communications and overland tracks.”27

The effect of these nightly machine gun barrages on the Germans ability to resupply their front lines was noted in a 4th Canadian Division after 

battle report. “Prisoners stated definitely that the only way they got their 

rations was by each relief bringing up sufficient rations for its stay in the 

trenches.”28 Heavy machine guns were an appropriate weapon to engage 

all of these targets as neutralizing them was just as effective as destroying 

them, and significantly more efficient.

The heavy machine guns also fired creeping barrages in support of 

the infantry’s advance during the attack on the ridge. On 9 April, the 

opening day of the attack, 2nd Canadian Infantry Brigade noted that 

upon advancing into the former German rear area “that many of the German dead were killed by Machine gun fire, indicating that Machine Gun 

barrage . . . was [very] effective.”29

The Counter Battery Staff Officer

During the planning for the attack on Vimy Ridge, Lieutenant General 

Sir Julian Byng, General Officer Commanding (GOC), Canadian Corps, 
189

identified four priorities for his artillery commanders: counter-battery 

fire, destruction of the German fighting positions, destruction of the German barbed-wire obstacles, and interdiction of enemy re-supply efforts.30

During this same period, the British Royal Artillery identified the requirement for a counter-battery expert to serve on division and corps staffs who 

was “free to devote their whole time, energy and brains to the one end of 

defeating enemy guns.”31 Thus, the Counter Battery Staff Officer (CBSO) 

was created to deal specifically with the task of locating, destroying or 

neutralizing the German artillery within their respective corps and division areas of operations:

The British recognition of the necessity for an artillery intelligence organisation enhanced their capabilities in target identification and selection, ordnance utilisation, and munition allocation. 

Figure 10.2. Lieutenant General Sir Julian Byng, General Officer Commanding 

(GOC) Canadian Corps. Photo courtesy of the Imperial War Museum CO 1370.
190

The overall product of these intellectual improvements was an 

enormous increase in effective firepower and a higher degree of 

success in counter-battery fire.32

The primary objective for the CBSO “was to have such effective 

knowledge of the enemy’s artillery dispositions that his batteries could be 

swamped, harassed and hampered by a deluge of accurately aimed H.E. 

[high explosives] and gas shells just before the critical moment of the assault and while it continued.”33

The CBSO would consist of a senior artillery field-grade officer (Lieutenant Colonel or Colonel) as well as a small “centralized staff of artillery 

personnel dedicated to the suppression of the enemy’s batteries through 

the analysis and tactical application of intelligence.”34 They would be attached to all army corps and divisions within the BEF operating in France 

and Belgium. The CBSO continually sought to gain and maintain an advantage in artillery firepower over the Germans, by any means possible.

In turn, the Canadian Corps established the Canadian Counter-Battery Officer (CCBO) on 27 January 1917 when General Byng appointed 

31-year-old Lieutenant Colonel Andrew G. L. McNaughton to be the first 

CCBO in the Canadian Corps.35 McNaughton had joined the Canadian 

Militia in 1909 and was commanding an artillery battery when the war 

began. He had been wounded twice and done much to advance gunnery 

techniques as the war progressed. During the Battle of the Somme he commanded the 11th (Howitzer) Brigade.36 Prior to the war McNaughton was 

a professor of engineering at McGill University in Montreal and brought 

a scientist’s enquiring mind to every problem he faced.37 He had an excellent reputation within the artillery community and was instrumental in 

convincing infantry commanders of the necessity for the synchronization 

of the artillery fire-plan with the maneuver plan prior to any offensive 

operation. He was well liked by the soldiers who served in his units and 

highly respected by his senior leaders for both his expertise as well as his 

critical thinking abilities.38

One of McNaughton’s specified tasks was “to gather enemy intelligence so as to harass enemy operations and destroy opposing artillery 

forces.”39 Under McNaughton’s leadership, the CCBO staff would gather 

intelligence from any and all sources to include aerial observation, aerial photographs, sound-ranging, flash spotting, forward artillery observers, prisoners, signalers intercepting German transmissions, night patrols, 

trench raids, and even snipers who, “passed along information seen through 

their telescopes.” 40 These sources were to be exploited by the CCBO to 
191

assist in developing detailed target analysis against the German artillery. 

Without the CCBO there would have been no possible way to combine 

and interpret all of the different sources of information, from all of the different branches of the army. Since ever division and corps in the BEF had 

a counter-battery officer, they were able to share tactics, techniques and 

procedures and eventually develop doctrine for the use of counter-battery 

fires which in turn greatly improved the overall effectiveness of the British 

Army’s counter-battery fire in the last year and a half of the war.41

Prior to the attack on Vimy Ridge, McNaughton visited with his 

French and British counterparts to discuss the lessons they had learned on 

the application of artillery during the Battles of Verdun and the Somme, 

respectively.42 From the British he learned much about a variety of techniques used with flash-spotting and sound ranging and would incorporate 

these techniques into his planning for the counter-battery fight against the 

German artillery behind Vimy Ridge.43 Under McNaughton’s leadership, 

Canadian artillerymen using sound-ranging techniques were able to calculate the position of the enemy gun within an accuracy of 25 yards. They 

were also able to identify its type, caliber, and the target it was registered 

on, all in less than three minutes under good weather conditions.44

The Artillery Plan for Vimy Ridge

The preliminary bombardment in support of the attack on Vimy Ridge 

began on 20 March and consisted of five phases. Phase One began in early 

March and consisted of the pre-positioning of artillery batteries and the 

stockpiling of artillery ammunition. This proved to be a logistics miracle 

in itself. In all, more than 1,000 guns and howitzers had to be moved into 

their firing positions to support the attack with one howitzer to every 20 

yards of front and one field gun for every ten yards.45 1,005,000 rounds of 

18-pdr gun ammunition would be issued to the 480 18-pounder guns that 

would take part in the preliminary bombardment.46 Phase Two was the 

start of the preliminary barrage that was planned to last from 20 March 

through 2 April. Phase Three was the final week of the preliminary barrage 

from 3–9 April. Phase Four was the bombardment to support the initial 

attack and phase five identified contingencies for the consolidation and 

exploitation of the ground captured.47

During Phase One the command relationships and coordination between the Major General Royal Artillery (MAGRA), First Army, Major 

General H. F. Mercer and the Brigadier General Royal Artillery (BGRA) 

E.W.B. Morrison, commander of the Canadian Corps artillery, was finalized. Fourteen heavy artillery brigades, consisting of 114 60-pounder 
192

guns, 144 6-inch howitzers, 56 9.2-inch howitzers, 40 8-inch howitzers, 

and numerous other smaller caliber guns and howitzers would support the 

three week preparatory barrage. Added to this list of artillery firepower 

were the guns and howitzers of the divisional artillery units belonging to 

the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Canadian Divisions as well as the division artillery’s 

of the 5th, 31st, and 63rd (RN) British divisions. The British 5th and 11th 

Brigades, Royal Field Artillery (RFA) served as the divisional artillery for 

the 4th Canadian Division with a further eight brigades of artillery providing reinforcing fires to the Canadian Corps once the attack began. In total, 

these units provided an additional 480 18-pounders and 138 4.5-inch howitzers to support the assault on Vimy Ridge. Finally, six brigades of Heavy 

Artillery were assigned the specific task of conducting counter-battery fire 

prior to and during the assault.48 During phase one nearly all of the field 

guns were moved forward during the hours of darkness to occupy firing 

positions only 500 yards behind the Canadian forward trenches. These 

guns conducted registration on German targets at the start of the preparatory barrage and then fell silent for the next two and a half weeks so as to 

not be located by German observers.49

In addition to the artillery, 150 of the 358 Vickers heavy machine guns 

in the Canadian Corps were allocated to support the preliminary bombardment. The Canadians would use the Vickers as an indirect fire system very 

effectively in the assault on Vimy Ridge.50

When Phase Two began on 20 March, General Byng directed that 

only half of the artillery would participate, primarily to conserve ammunition and to preserve the barrel life of the guns.51 Counter-battery fires 

during this phase concentrated on located German artillery batteries via 

aerial observers or by flash-spotting and sound ranging. When the location of the enemy batteries were confirmed, they were added to the fireplan list and would not be fired upon until the last few days of phase three, 

just before the attack started. 

“The Symphony of Hell”

When all of the available British and Canadian artillery opened fire at 

the start of Phase Three on 2 April, the effects of the barrage could be felt 

12 miles away, breaking windows in the French city of Douai.52 The bombardment went on non-stop for 23 hours a day for six days allowing little 

respite to the three German divisions dug-in and along Vimy Ridge. The 

guns fell silent for one hour each day to allow the aircraft of Number 16 

Squadron, Royal Flying Corps (RFC) the chance to conduct battle damage 

assessment. The aircrews of 16 Squadron made a major contribution to 
193

Lieutenant Colonel McNaughton’s counter battery operations by providing aerial photographs as well as directing artillery fire both before and 

during the attack on Vimy Ridge.53

In what the Germans would later state was “The Symphony of Hell” 

or “the Week of Suffering,” the German positions were pounded with high 

explosives and gas for six days preventing reinforcements and supplies 

from reaching the forward units on Vimy Ridge.54 With each passing day, 

the British and Canadian artillery increased their rates of fire incrementally with 90,000 rounds being fired on 5 April alone.55 The bombardment 

destroyed several German trench systems and obliterated huge segments 

of the barbed-wire obstacles in front of the German trenches. To make 

matters worse the German artillery experienced a shortage of ammunition 

as their logistics system began to break down due to the effects of the British and Canadian long range fires.

At 0530 on Easter Monday, 9 April 1917, the attack on Vimy Ridge began when 21 infantry battalions from the four Canadian divisions left their 

trenches and began the trek across no-man’s land. With a thunderous roar 

that deafened friend and foe alike “the most concentrated and powerful bombardment of the war thundered into the German Lines on Vimy Ridge.”56

A freak snowstorm with pounding snow and sleet fell on the advancing infantry in the pre-dawn light. Even in the poor visibility German opposition 

began to stiffen the closer the Canadians came to the enemy trenches. 

As the Canadian infantry moved forward, they hugged the creeping barrage in front of them which advanced 100 yards every three minutes. SimulFigure 10.3. Canadian MK V 8-inch howitzers in action, April 1917. Photo 

courtesy of the Canadian War Museum.
194

taneously, the standing barrage moved forward 150 yards of the creeping 

barrage, bombarding the objectives along the “Black Line” while 300 yards 

further on the heavy artillery pounded the rear slopes of the ridge and McNaughton’s counter-battery brigades silenced nearly 85 percent of the German guns still in action.57 Of the more than 400 7.7.cm field guns available 

to the German Army Group commander defending Vimy Ridge, the majority were destroyed and those that were not were effectively neutralized.58

By the end of the first day, three of the four Canadian divisions had 

captured all of their objectives. Only the 4th Division was unable to capture 

Hill 145 and The Pimple; these critical positions were captured the following day. By 12 April the Canadians had achieved a success unparalleled 

in the war to that time. The success achieved by the Canadian Corps was 

due to many reasons. First and foremost it started with General Byng and 

his infantry and artillery commanders. Their focus on synchronization and 

planning, as well as the development and execution of an intense training 

plan prior to the battle, proved to be combat multipliers that enabled the 

successful assault on Vimy Ridge. Just as important, platoon commanders 

and section leaders were given the authority to use their judgment as they 

saw fit to maintain the initiative during the attack. In doing so this also enabled small units to accomplish their assigned missions. It was this combination of “mission command” with a well-planned and executed artillery 

fire-plan that led to the defeat of the Germans on Vimy Ridge. 

As for the success of the CCBO, it can be summarized in this brief 

report sent by Brigadier General E.W.B. Morrison 60 minutes after the 

start of the attack. “C.B.S.O.—Everything going splendidly. All our troops 

on the RIDGE. . . . Practically no hostile barrage.”59 Another measure of 

the success of the CCBO was that, “By all available means the Canadian 

counter-battery staff discovered 176 of the estimated 212 guns the Germans had available to defend themselves.”60 This severely diminished the 

firepower the attacking infantry faced when they assaulted the ridge. 

The change from destructive artillery barrages to neutralizing barrages, which began in April 1917, would become doctrine within both the 

British and Canadian artillery until the end of the war. Creeping barrages 

which included smoke and gas shells, and heavy machine gun fire, would 

all continue to play significant roles in offensive operations conducted by 

the BEF. Given the importance of artillery in support of offensive operations on the Western Front, the creation of the CBSO by the British Army 

in the winter of 1917, may be one of the most important doctrinal changes 

of the war. Interestingly enough, the Germans were never able to duplicate 

the CBSO within their armies.61
195

Changes in Infantry Doctrine prior to Vimy Ridge

Shortly after the conclusion of the Battle of the Somme, BEF General 

Headquarters issued several directives that would incorporate numerous 

lessons learned from that five month campaign. The two that impacted 

the infantry most directly were SS143—Instructions for the Training of 

Platoons for Offensive Action and SS144—The Normal Formation for 

the Attack.

These new tactics represented a major change in infantry doctrine 

within the British Army, placing greater responsibility at the lowest echelon—the platoon commander. This pushed the actual command of offensive operations down to the platoon level. There were two primary reasons 

for this change: the lack of communications between battalion headquarters and the advancing platoons once the companies and platoons left their 

trenches and began crossing no-man’s land, and additional firepower being allocated to the infantry platoons to make them more lethal. The addition of grenade launchers attached to the infantryman’s Lee-Enfield rifles 

as well as providing more of the very effective Lewis light machine guns 

increased the lethality of the infantry platoon.62

The battalion commander of the 22nd Battalion noted, “Once the attack 

is launched the Battalion Commander is practically impotent . . . company 

and platoons were cut off from higher headquarters.”63 When the company 

or platoon ran into a German strong-point, such as a machine gun post, they 

would stop and call for support from the artillery. They would remain stationary until support arrived. Communications between advancing infantry 

and the headquarters was almost impossible, and when possible could take 

hours. This would effectively stop the advance of the infantry, thereby losing initiative and thus jeopardizing the whole offensive operation. 

In the months prior to the attack on Vimy Ridge, General Byng had directed his staff to conduct a detailed analysis of small unit tactics and training. When the British General Staff issued SS143 and SS144 in February 

1917, it directed that one of the infantry platoons in each company transition 

into three sections consisting of bombers (hand grenades), rifle-bombers 

(rifle grenades) and Lewis machine gun teams to assist the infantry company with suppressing or neutralizing enemy strongpoints. The increase in 

firepower at the platoon level was a major lesson learned from the Battle of 

the Somme. It was believed that this change to the infantry structure would 

combine to provide the companies and platoons with enough firepower to 

deal with almost any defensive obstacle missed by the artillery. General 
196

Byng directed that SS143 and SS144 be incorporated immediately into the 

revised training plan for every soldier in the Canadian Corps.64

In order for the new tactics and weapons to be successful at overcoming the superiority of defensive firepower, the infantry needed extensive 

training on how to operate these weapons, and then on how to carry out the 

new tactics. Light machine gunners, bombers, and rifle grenadiers had to 

learn how to operate their individual weapons but more importantly, they 

needed to learn how to operate together as a team. A 4th Division weekly 

report published just five days before the attack on Vimy Ridge, stated that 

146 men completed courses of instruction on use of the Lewis Gun, the 

Mills Bomb (grenade) and Rifle Grenade.65

As part of the revised training program, General Byng directed that 

in the coming battle every platoon would be given a specific objective. 

More importantly, he provided the time for every company and platoon to 

conduct rehearsals in the rear area so that they could develop battle drills. 

A scale model of Vimy Ridge was built near First Army headquarters and 

every soldier was to understand his role as well as the man alongside him. 

Byng also provided 45,000 maps so that every platoon commander, platoon sergeant and section commanders had a map and knew how to use it 

to assist them in achieving their objectives.66

Once the individual soldiers had completed training on their new weapons, they would return to their platoons and begin, “training under the Brigade and Battalion arrangements in the new organization of Platoons etc.”67

For the four Canadian divisions, this training continued right up until the 

day before the attack on Vimy Ridge. This intense training regime provided 

the attacking infantrymen the knowledge they needed to successfully deal 

with and overcome the German strongpoints they would encounter. 

Now with the new tactics, weapons, and training, when the artillery 

barrages failed to neutralize a German strong point, the platoon would 

be able to effectively deal with these positions and continue advancing 

toward their objectives.

After the Canadian Corps’s successful assault and capture of Vimy 

Ridge, Major General Henry E. Burstall, commander of the 2nd Canadian 

Division, reflected on the two directives and their impact on his platoons:

The platoon organization has fully justified its introduction. 

Whenever preparations for an attack have been complete, i.e. 

wire properly cut and trench destruction thoroughly carried out, 

the Infantry have been able to advance with comparatively small 
197

casualties as the new organization has enabled them to overcome 

opposition with the weapons at their own disposal.68

The Canadian Corps was able to apply these changes to infantry doctrine because of an intense training program which contributed greatly to 

capturing Vimy Ridge from an entrenched, well-led, disciplined and motivated enemy, proving the soundness and effectiveness of the new doctrine. 

Major General Sir Arthur Currie, commander of the 1st Canadian Division 

at Vimy Ridge and future commander of the Canadian Corps, stated “There 

is no use in waiting until the end of the war to make necessary changes.”69

Conclusion

On 12 April 1917, German resistance ended and with it the Battle of 

Vimy Ridge. The four Canadian divisions were positioned on the high 

ground along a six mile front. The German Sixth Army, having sustained 

more than 20,000 casualties, including 4,000 soldiers who became prisoners of war, retreated more than four miles eastwards across the Plains of 

Douai and took up defensive positions where they prepared for the next 

Allied attack.70 The Canadian Corps suffered 10,602 over the four day 

battle with 3,598 soldiers killed and 7,004 were wounded. It would prove 

to be the highest casualty rate every suffered by the Canadians in their 

history. Despite the casualties, the British and Canadians considered Vimy 

Ridge an overwhelming success. General Byng would be promoted to 

command Third Army and Major General Currie received a knighthood 

from King George V on the battlefield and then assumed command of the 

Canadian Corps where he would prove to be one of the most capable corps 

commanders on either side during the entire war.71 Shortly after the battle, 

the Canadians received perhaps the greatest tribute when the French Army 

General Staff sent a group of senior officers to meet with the leaders of 

the Canadian Corps to analyze how and why the Canadians had been so 

successful at Vimy Ridge. “One of the greatest armies in the world was not 

too proud to learn from an army of citizen soldiers.”72

By implementing neutralizing and destructive artillery barrages across 

BEF, creating the position of counter-battery staff officer at the corps and 

division level, and incorporating new tactics at the infantry platoon level, 

the Canadian Corps was able to overcome the superiority of defensive 

firepower, and achieve a major tactical victory during the Battle of Vimy 

Ridge. This successful large-scale combat operation demonstrated that by 

conducting detailed planning at all levels—from Army to platoon—and 

by synchronizing fires with maneuver, well-trained and well-led soldiers 
198

could defeat a near-peer enemy defending key terrain under extreme environmental conditions.

One of the greatest strengths of the Canadian Corps prior to the Battle 

of Vimy Ridge (and for the remainder of the war), was its highly integrated and flexible organization. The Canadian Corps staff, under the exceptional leadership of General Byng, effectively planned and coordinated 

the employment of all multi-domain capabilities across the operational 

framework. This is just one of the many lessons that the Battle of Vimy 

Ridge offers present day military professionals. As the US Army reorients 

its doctrine toward the conduct of large-scale combat operations to prevent peer and near-peer adversaries from gaining positions of strategic advantage, it is highly recommended that military professionals of all ranks 

study and analyze how the Canadian Corps, operating as a small national 

army, prepared for and successfully accomplished its assigned mission of 

capturing Vimy Ridge in 1917.
199

Notes

1. Albert Palazzo, “The British Army’s Counter-Battery Staff Office and 

Control of the Enemy in World War I,” Journal of Military History 63, Issue 1, 

1999, 55–74.

2. Tim Cook, “The Gunners at Vimy,” in Vimy Ridge: A Canadian Reassessment, eds. Geoffrey Hayes, Andrew Iarocci, and Mike Bechthold, (Waterloo, 

Canada: Laurier Centre for Military Strategic and Disarmament Studies and 

Wilfrid Laurier University Press, 2007), 110.

3. David T. Zabecki, “Vimy Ridge, France,” Military History Magazine 27, 

no. 2, July 2010, 76.

4. Tim Cook, Vimy: The Battle and the Legend, (Toronto: Penguin Random 

House Canada Limited, 2018), 147–149. See also Mike Chappell, The Canadian 

Army at War (Oxford, UK: Osprey Publishing Ltd., 1985), 14–15; Brenda Ralph 

Lewis, “Vimy Ridge 1917,” War Monthly 19, September 1975, 26–33.

5. Desmond Morton, as quoted in Edward Humphreys Great Canadian 

Battles: Heroism and Courage through the Years, (London: Arcturus Publishing 

Limited, 2008), 304.

6. Zabecki, “Vimy Ridge, France,” 76.

7. Alexander Turner, Vimy Ridge 1917: Byng’s Canadians Triumph at Arras

(Oxford: Osprey Publishing Ltd., 2005), 24–25.

8. Alexander Turner, Vimy Ridge 1917: Byng’s Canadians, 24–25.

9. Andrew Iarocci, in Vimy Ridge: A Canadian Reassessment, 159.

10. Paddy Griffith, ed. British Fighting Methods in the Great War (London: 

Frank Cass & Co. Ltd., 1996), 29.

11. Griffith, 31–35.

12. Griffith, 31–35.

13. Griffith, 34.

14. David T. Zabecki, Steel Wind: Colonel Georg Bruchmuller and the Birth 

of Modern Artillery (Westport, CT: Praeger Publishers, 1994), 6.

15. Zabecki, 115.

16. Cook, “The Gunners at Vimy,” 109.

17. Geoffrey Hayes, “3rd Canadian Division,” in Vimy Ridge: A Canadian 

Reassessment, 201.

18. Bill Rawlings, Surviving Trench Warfare: Technology and the Canadian 

Corps, 1914–1918 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1992), 120.

19. Library and Archives Canada, War Diaries, RG9-III-D-3, volume 4862, 

file number 168, “War Diaries—4th Canadian Division, General Staff,” 144, 

accessed 9 March 2018.

20. Tim Cook, No Place to Run: The Canadian Corps and Gas Warfare in 

the First World War (Vancouver: UBC Press, 1999), 109. See also Alexander 

McKee, The Battle of Vimy Ridge, (Toronto: The Ryerson Press, 1966), 137. 

21. Alexander Turner, Vimy Ridge 1917: Byng’s Canadians, 79–80.

22. Cook, No Place to Run: The Canadian Corps and Gas Warfare in the 

First World War, 112.
200

23. Cook, 112.

24. Jack Sheldon, The German Army on Vimy Ridge 1914–1917 (London: 

Pen & Sword Books Ltd., 2008), 299.

25. Michael Krawchuk, Wall of Fire: The Battle of Vimy Ridge (Calgary: 

Detselig Enterprises Ltd.), 330.

26. Library and Archives Canada, War Diaries, RG9-III-D-3, volume 4871, 

file number 206, “War Diaries, 2nd Canadian Infantry Brigade,” 5, accessed 9 

March 2018.

27. Library and Archives Canada, War Diaries, RG9-III-D-3, volume 4862, 

file number 168, “War Diaries - 4th Canadian Division, General Staff,” 143, 

accessed 10 March 2018.

28. Library and Archives Canada, War Diaries, RG9-III-D-3, volume 4862, 

file number 168, “War Diaries - 4th Canadian Division, General Staff,” 143, 

accessed 10 March 2018.

29. Library and Archives Canada, War Diaries, RG9-III-D-3, volume 4871, 

file number 206, “War Diaries, 2nd Canadian Infantry Brigade,” pg155, accessed 

10 March 2018.

30. Turner, Vimy Ridge 1917: Byng’s Canadians, 36.

31. General Sir Martin Farndale, History of the Royal Regiment of Artillery: 

Western Front 1914-18, (Dorchester, UK: The Dorset Press, 1986), 186. 

32. Palazzo, “The British Army’s Counter-Battery Staff,” 55–74.

33.. McKee, The Battle of Vimy Ridge, 79.

34. Palazzo, “The British Army’s Counter-Battery Staff,” 55–74.

35. Pierre Berton, Vimy (Toronto: McClelland and Stewart Limited, 1986), 

109–11. 

36. Michael Krawchuk, Wall of Fire: The Battle of Vimy Ridge (Calgary: 

Detselig Enterprises Ltd., 2009), 220. 

37. Cook, Vimy: The Battle and the Legend, 45.

38. Lieutenant Colonel Andrew G.L. McNaughton was an advocate for the 

development of advanced gunnery techniques within the Canadian Field Artillery (CFA) throughout the war. He analyzed the wear on gun barrels, muzzle velocity, the effects of weather on artillery rounds once they left the tube and was a 

major advocate for sound-ranging and flash spotting of enemy artillery. According to Pierre Berton, one of Canada’s most renowned historians, McNaughton 

was considered by the British, French and German’s as the best artillery officer 

in the BEF. In the Second World War he commanded the 1st Canadian Division, 1939-1940; the Canadian Corps, 1940–1942 and the First Canadian Army, 

1942–1943.

39. Cook, “The Gunners at Vimy,” 111.

40. Bill Rawlings, Surviving Trench Warfare, 111.

41. Palazzo, “The British Army’s Counter-Battery Staff,” 55–74.

42. Berton, Vimy, 110–11. 

43. Berton, 110–11. 

44. Berton, 165–66.

45. McKee, The Battle of Vimy Ridge, 53.
201

46. Farndale, History of the Royal Regiment of Artillery, 175.

47. Turner, Vimy Ridge 1917: Byng’s Canadians, 44–45.

48. Farndale, History of the Royal Regiment of Artillery, 175.

49. Farndale, 175.

50. Turner, Vimy Ridge 1917: Byng’s Canadians, 46.

51. Turner, 47.

52. Turner, 48.

53. Turner, 42–43.

54. Berton, Vimy, 183.

55. Lewis, “Vimy Ridge 1917,” 28.

56. Farndale, History of the Royal Regiment of Artillery, 175.

57. Farndale, 175–76. See also Stephen Bull, Canadian Corps Soldier 

versus Royal Bavarian Soldier: Vimy Ridge to Passchendaele, 1917 (Oxford: 

Osprey Publishing, 2017), 33. 

58. Turner, Vimy Ridge 1917: Byng’s Canadians, 47.

59. Library and Archives Canada, War Diaries, RG9-III-D-3, volume 4957, 

file number 503, “War Diaries, General Officer Commanding, Royal Artillery, 

Canadian Corps,” 169, accessed 11 March 2018.

60. Rawlings, Surviving Trench Warfare, 111.

61. Palazzo, “The British Army’s Counter-Battery Staff,” 55–74.

62. Bull, Canadian Corps Soldier versus Royal Bavarian Soldier, 13–18. 

By 1916 each infantry battalion had 16 Lewis guns, with one Lewis in each 

platoon. By 1918 each battalion would have 36, two per platoon plus four held 

at battalion headquarters to serve in the anti-aircraft role. 

63. Rawlings, Surviving Trench Warfare, 81.

64. Turner, Vimy Ridge 1917: Byng’s Canadians, 37–38.

65.Library and Archives Canada, War Diaries, RG9-III-D-3, volume 4862, 

file number 168, “War Diaries—4th Canadian Division, General Staff,” 140, 

accessed 12 March 2018.

66. Turner, Vimy Ridge 1917: Byng’s Canadians, 39.

67. Library and Archives Canada, War Diaries, RG9-III-D-3, volume 5070, 

“War Diaries, 5th Division-Miscellaneous,” 23, accessed 12 March 2018.

68. David Campbell, “The 2nd Canadian Division,” in Vimy Ridge: A Canadian Reassessment, 184.

69. Rene Chartrand, The Canadian Corps in World War I (Oxford: Osprey 

Publishing Ltd., 2007), 20.

70. Humphreys, Great Canadian Battles, 310–11.

71. Humphreys, 311. See also Cook, Vimy: The Battle and the Legend, 123.

72. Mike Chappell, The Canadian Army at War (Oxford, UK: Osprey Publishing Ltd., 1985), 15. 

203

Chapter 11

The Future of Fires: Dominating in Large-Scale Combat 

Operations

Major General Wilson A. Shoffner and 

Colonel Christopher D. Compton

Success in large-scale combat operations (LSCO) is dependent on the 

Army’s ability to fight with fires. The Army’s long and storied past provides rich examples—several of which are highlighted in this volume—of 

the successful application of fires in LSCO. As the Army prepares to defeat technologically advanced peer and near-peer threats capable of challenging US forces in all domains, the ability to fight with fires will be just 

as critical to success in the future as it was in previous conflicts. Army 

fires must be organized and equipped in a way that maximizes the timely, 

accurate integration and employment of cross-domain fires throughout the 

depth of an increasingly lethal, expanded battlespace. 

As history has shown, fighting with fires is inextricably linked to maneuver. The ability to integrate fires and maneuver is essential to success in 

future large-scale combat; we will not dominate our adversaries if we only 

do one and not the other. The Army’s recently published “Functional Concept for Fires 2020-2040” (TRADOC Pamphlet 525-3-4) is a foundational 

document for developing future fires capabilities. The concept addresses 

this relationship in the opening lines of the document: “The principle role of 

fires is to enable freedom of maneuver, while maneuver forces compel the 

enemy to concentrate when they place something of value at risk.”1

 Over the 

past two decades, potential adversaries have invested heavily in long-range 

fires and integrated air defense systems (IADS)—making it even more critical that the US Army possess the ability to maneuver and deliver fires in 

depth. Solving this dilemma requires building a fires force capable of penetrating the enemy’s Integrated Air Defenses and destroying the fires-strike 

complex from standoff ranges. To that end, land-based fires must be capable 

of power projection across all domains, achieve overmatch for Army forces 

in close combat, and ensure joint force freedom of maneuver.2

Required Capabilities for the Future

Creating a fires force with the capacity, range, and lethality to achieve 

overmatch in multi-domain operations (formerly multi-domain battle) requires a shift in current fires force organization, capability, and employment. 

Peer adversaries already employ a fires-strike complex with long-range fires 
204

as well as integrated sensor networks along with counter-rocket, artillery, 

mortar and air defense systems designed to offset the maneuver and technological advantages of US forces. To face the increasingly lethal threats of 

today and tomorrow, the Army requires a formidable fires complex capable 

of delivering precise, responsive, effective, and multifunctional fires against 

targets in all domains (land, air, maritime, space, cyberspace) and at all 

echelons (tactical, operational, strategic). This requires both reinvesting in 

and developing new ground-based fires capabilities as well as reorganizing 

Army fires forces, especially in echelons above brigade (EAB). 

The newly formed Cross-Functional Teams (CFTs) for long-range 

precision fires (LRPF) and air missile defense (AMD) will increase both 

range and lethality in fires platforms and munitions. The main role of 

the CFTs is to accelerate the development of the most critical capabilities needed for the future and get those capabilities into the hands of the 

warfighter as soon as possible. But material solutions only solve part of 

the problem. Equally important is the force structure required to integrate 

and employ those capabilities on the battlefield. Analysis to determine the 

optimal fires force structure is occurring through the development of Operational and Organizational (O&O) concepts that merge future material 

solutions with robust mission command for integrating and employing 

cross-domain fires at echelon. 

How We Got Here: AirLand Battle to Modularity

The starting point for this modernization effort involves at least a cursory review of the past. Historically, the great strength of Army fires was 

the ability to deliver timely and accurate massed fires with Field Artillery 

(FA) and provide protection of critical assets with Air Defense Artillery 

(ADA) throughout the depth of the battlefield to enable maneuver and 

set conditions for victory. Army fires units assigned to formations at all 

echelons—supported by joint enablers—formed the necessary structure to 

fight with fires and win. Success depended upon the right capability and 

the right organizations.

The fires force from World War II through Operation Desert Storm 

was organized to fight and win against peer and near-peer adversaries. 

The Army invested heavily in FA and ADA in the 1970s through 1990s to 

optimize for large-scale combat. The Army had tactical, operational, and 

strategic fires capability that ranged the depth of the battlefield to counter 

peer adversary air and ground capabilities. The Army organized effectively at echelon to deliver accurate massed fires as well as create integrated 
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layers and redundancies of air defense to maximize capability and lethality 

against a threat with superior numbers.

The post-Cold War operational environment drove the Army to its current structure, characterized by the term modularity. Today’s army maximizes the readiness and lethality of the brigade combat team (BCT) along 

with interoperable, rapidly deployable division and corps headquarters 

capable of providing mission command of multiple BCTs and supporting 

units or serving as a joint task force for a range of military operations. While 

this transition meant an overall reduction in fires capacity—especially at 

echelons above BCT—advancements in target acquisition and precision 

munitions coupled with significant improvements in joint integration have 

made today’s fires force a lethal and highly effective arm of the US Army. 

Fires in MDO: Optimizing for the Future Fight

While the past provides a useful reference point for determining the 

right capability and organizations, re-optimizing for LSCO today requires 

adapting to an operational environment (OE) where the US military will 

be contested in all domains as well as in the information environment. 

This emerging OE is the driving force behind the Army’s Multi-Domain 

Operations (MDO) concept and is redefining how the Army will employ 

fires on the future battlefield. 

Threat anti-access/area denial strategies (A2AD) capabilities may 

challenge our ability to maintain air and maritime dominance throughout 

all phases of conflict, creating the need to establish temporary windows 

of advantage across multiple domains in time and space to enable joint 

force operations. To that end, Army fires forces must be structured to employ effective cross-domain fires, that is, capable of employing lethal and 

non-lethal effects across all domains to create multiple dilemmas for an 

adversary and enable joint Force operations.

The seamless integration and synchronization of cross-domain fires 

throughout the depth of an expanded and contested battlefield will require 

tailored fires capacity at each echelon with the right mix of capability and 

leadership to provide precise and responsive fires. While echelon requirements are different, each requires certain organic lethal and non-lethal delivery capability, enhanced sensor-to-shooter linkages, and the ability to 

conduct cross-domain targeting and fire control using an integrated fire 

control network. The following analysis examines how the Army that is 

optimized for LSCO could employ cross-domain fires capability at the 

tactical, operational, and strategic levels.
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Tactical Cross-Domain Fires: Supporting the Close Fight

The BCT continues to be the primary ground maneuver force designed 

to close with and destroy enemy forces, largely enabled by cross-domain 

fires. Lethal fires delivered by an assigned FA battalion equipped with the 

soon-to-be-fielded extended-range cannon artillery (ERCA) and ShortRange Air Defense (SHORAD) will provide the BCT the ability to shape 

the close fight and protect maneuver forces while maneuvering in the close 

area. The brigade fires cell must have the ability to provide the BCT commander with timely access to both see and strike in all domains, including 

space and cyberspace. While the BCT must be able to internally integrate 

cross-domain fires, success in LSCO will depend heavily on effective 

shaping operations from EAB formations.

In order to shape for BCTs, divisions must be capable of integrating 

and employing cross-domain fires beyond the range of the BCT’s cannon 

artillery. To optimize for LSCO, the division requires a fires organization 

that can plan for and employ deep shaping fires as well as protect the division’s maneuver forces and critical command and control (C2) nodes. 

In addition to integrating fires, this organization should have the ability to 

provide mission command of assigned long-range rockets, SHORAD, and 

other fires capability that provide the division with increased flexibility 

and lethality to support BCT operations in the close area and provide the 

division commander options for weighting the main effort. 

The division must retain the advantages of the current Joint Air-Ground 

Integration Center (JAGIC), but must expand this proven capability to 

be fully cross-domain by incorporating cyber electro-magnetic activities 

(CEMA), air defense and air management (ADAM), and information operations (IO). Additionally, given the division’s increased long-range fires 

capability coupled with a growing demand for engaging targets at greater 

ranges, a division will require improved ISR that is capable of both accurately locating and rapidly engaging targets in the division’s deep area. 

Operational Fires: Shaping the Deep Area

The employment of ground-based operational fires is perhaps the most 

critical requirement for the Army to optimize for LSCO because it directly 

counters the enemy’s strength—the long-range fires and IADS complex. 

At the corps level, effective multi-domain convergence includes employing the lethal fires capability of FA rockets and missiles and protective 

air missile defense capability along with non-lethal fires capability from 

intelligence, cyberspace, electronic-warfare, and space (ICEWS). These 

capabilities allow a Corps to be fully capable of executing core opera-
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tional fires requirements such as Joint Suppression of Enemy Air Defense 

(J-SEAD), operational strike, and shore-to-ship fires through enhance sensor-to-shooter linkages over an integrated fires network.

Like the division, fires at this level must be well-integrated and synchronized through operational targeting and fire planning. To support the 

Corps as a joint task force (JTF), fires formations must be organized to 

maximize interoperability with Joint, Interagency, and Multi-National 

(JIM) partners. Conceptually, these capabilities give a corps headquarters 

what it does not have today—a force fires headquarters with the ability 

to engage the enemy beyond the fire support coordination line (FSCL) 

at ranges well beyond current rocket and missile capabilities. The robust 

cross-domain fires capability, including the integrating functions residing 

within the headquarters, will provide a corps or JTF commander with true 

operational reach to strike peer adversaries attempting to engage US forces from standoff ranges.

Strategic Land-Based Fires: Enabling the Theater Army

The Army requires a strategic ground-based fires capability as well as 

a Theater Fires Command capable of integrating cross-domain fires at the 

theater or regional combatant command level. Expanding the Army Air 

Missile Defense Command (AAMDC) and the Battlefield Coordination 

Detachment (BCD) force structure into a single theater enabling command 

with strategic attack capability would help optimize the Army for LSCO 

and provide significant shaping capability for the joint force commander. 

The most notable addition to this concept is the inclusion of strategic 

surface-to-surface fires capable of striking targets beyond operational distances. Conceptually, this unit could be equipped with munitions capable 

of providing additional support to corps/JTF operations or striking targets 

in support of the joint force with long-range precision strike capability. 

This deep strike capability—coupled with air and missile defense units 

equipped with THAAD and Patriot launchers to provide protection for 

strategic nodes in the theater—the Theater Army would have fully integrated surface-to-surface and surface-to-air capability.

Another unique capability that has both strategic and operational implications is the development of the multi-domain task force (MDTF). 

This formation is designed specifically to counter threat A2AD strategies by opening windows of advantage for joint force exploitation. The 

MDTF’s ability to position forward in theater during the competition 

period and protect critical nodes early in operational phases of conflict 

provides increased decision space for the joint force commander, flexibil-
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ity to address emerging threats with massed cross-domain fires, and the 

capability required to prevent sequential threat escalation activities. The 

MDTF’s ability to employ cross-domain fires to disrupt and destroy threat 

formations prior to their interdiction of the joint force sets the conditions 

for follow-on operations and campaigns. In addition, the MDTF provides 

the Army with the ability to experiment with different concepts in the employment of ICEWS capabilities.

Conclusion

Optimizing for LSCO against emerging peer and near-peer threats requires a force capable of employing precise, responsive, and multi-functional cross-domain fires throughout the depth of the battlefield. The Army 

is no stranger to LSCO and has—throughout its history—risen to meet the 

challenges posed by peer and near-peer threats of the past. As the Army 

adapts to the current and future operational environment, developing a 

capable fires force that meets the challenging demands of our most capable adversaries is a critical component to the solution. By building on our 

knowledge of the past, expanding on the advancements in the current fires 

force, and adapting to the changing demands of the emerging operational 

environment, the Army can once again regain the technological and organizational advantage required to fight and win in LSCO. 

Fighting with fires on the future battlefield is not an option. As such, 

the Army must not only continue its pursuit of material solutions in longrange fires and air defense to improve range and lethality but must also 

build the right force structure at each echelon to integrate and employ 

cross-domain fires throughout the depth of the battlefield. Future largescale combat requires the return of the Fires to a position of dominance on 

the battlefield, but it must be coupled with the integration of multi-domain 

capability that creates multiple dilemmas for the enemy and enable friendly freedom of maneuver.
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Notes

1. Department of the Army, TRADOC Pamphlet 525-3-4, “The US Army 

Functional Concept for Fires 2020-2040,” February 2017, iii.

2.Department of the Army, TRADOC Pamphlet 525-3-4, iii.

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About the Authors

G. Kirk Alexander

Lieutenant Colonel G. Kirk Alexander is an active-duty field artillery officer and serves as the Battalion Commander for 1st Battalion, 31st 

Field Artillery, Basic Combat Training at Fort Sill, Oklahoma. He earned 

an MA from Webster University and a Master’s in Military Art and Science from the US Army Command and General Staff College’s School 

of Advanced Military Studies. His assignments include three combat deployments to the Middle East while supporting Operation Enduring Freedom and Operation Iraqi Freedom.

Joe R. Bailey

Joe R. Bailey is the Assistant Command Historian for the US Army 

Combined Arms Center and Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. He earned a BS 

in History, an MA in Military History from Austin Peay State University, and a PhD in American History from Kansas State University. He is 

the co-general editor of Essential to Success: Historical Case Studies in 

the Art of Command at Echelons Above Brigade (Fort Leavenworth, KS: 

Army University Press, 2017). His research areas include American Military History and History and Memory.

Thomas G. Bradbeer

Lieutenant Colonel (Retired) Thomas G. Bradbeer is the Major General Fox Conner Chair of Leadership Studies for the US Army Command 

and General Staff College at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. He earned a BA 

in History from the University of Akron, Master’s in Adult Education from 

the University of Saint Mary and in Military Art and Science from the US 

Army Command and General Staff College, and a PhD in History from 

the University of Kansas. His chapter on General Matthew B. Ridgway 

appeared in The Art of Command: Military Leadership from George Washington to Colin Powell, 2nd ed. (Lexington, KY: University of Kentucky 

Press, 2017) and his Spring 2010 Army History article “General Cota and 

the Battle of the Hurtgen Forest: A Failure of Battle Command?” received 

the Army Historical Foundation Distinguished Writing Award in 2010. 

His research areas include Air Warfare—specifically the First and Second 

World Wars, the British Army in the 20th Century, and the Korean War. 

Mark T. Calhoun

Lieutenant Colonel (Retired) Mark T. Calhoun is an Associate Professor at the US Army School of Advanced Military Studies at Fort Leaven-
212

worth, Kansas. He earned a BS in Chemistry from the University of Louisiana at Lafayette; a Master’s in Military Art and Science from the US 

Army Command and General Staff College’s School of Advanced Military 

Studies and a PhD in History from the University of Kansas in 2012. His 

published works include Lesley J. McNair: Unsung Architect of the U.S. 

Army (Lawrence, KS: University Press of Kansas, 2015), the first comprehensive biography of General Lesley J. McNair. He also wrote a chapter in 

Unifying Themes in Complex Systems, Volume V (New York City: Springer 

Press, 2011), “Clausewitz and Jomini: Contrasting Intellectual Traditions in 

Military Theory” in the Summer 2011 Army History, and various encyclopedia entries and book reviews. His research centers on the US Army during 

the interwar period and World War II.

Christopher D. Compton

Colonel Christopher D. Compton is the Chief of Concepts Development Division, Fires Center of Excellence at Fort Sill, Oklahoma. He has 

Master’s degrees in Public Administration from the University of Oklahoma, in Strategic Studies from the Army War College, and in National 

Security and Strategic Studies from the Naval War College. He had two 

combat deployments in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom. His recent 

assignments include Deputy Chief of Staff, US Army Central; Chief of 

Fires, 25th Infantry Division; and Commander of 2nd Battalion, 2nd Field 

Artillery. He is co-author of “The Fires Complex: Organizing to Win in 

Large-Scale Combat Operations,” Fires Journal, May 2018; “Confronting 

Conflict in the Gray Zone,” Breaking Defense, June 2016; “Gray Zone: 

Why We’re Losing the New Era of National Security,” Defense One, June 

2016, and “Outplayed: Regaining Strategic Initiative in the Gray Zone,” 

Strategic Studies Institute, June 2016.

Boyd L. Dastrup

Boyd L. Dastrup received his PhD from Kansas State University in 

1980 and is currently the US Army Field Artillery School Historian. He 

is the author of numerous books, including The U.S. Army Command and 

General Staff College: A Centennial History (1982), Crusade in Nuremberg: Military Occupation, 1945–1949 (1985), King of Battle: A Branch 

History of the U.S. Army’s Field Artillery (1992, 1993), Modernizing the 

King of Battle: 1973–1991 (1994, 2003), The Field Artillery: History and 

Sourcebook (1994), Cedat Fortuna Peritis: A History of the Field Artillery 

School (2011), and Artillery Strong: Modernizing the Field Artillery for 

the 21st Century (2018). He has also served as a subject matter expert 
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for the History Channel on “Dangerous Missions: Forward Observation” 

(2001) and for the Discovery Channel on “Artillery Strikes” (2005).

Mark E. Grotelueschen

A 1991 graduate of the US Air Force Academy (USAFA), Lieutenant 

Colonel (USAF-Retired) Mark E. Grotelueschen teaches in the Academy’s Department of Military and Strategic Studies. He previously served 

as Professor of History at USAFA. He received an MA from the University of Calgary and a PhD from Texas A&M University. He is the author 

of Doctrine Under Trial: American Artillery Employment in World War I

(2000); The AEF Way of War: The American Army and Combat in World 

War I (2007), which has been named repeatedly to the US Army Chief 

of Staff’s Professional Reading List; and Into the Fight: April–June 1918

(2018), a volume in the US Army Center of Military History’s World War 

I commemoration series.

David M. Rodriguez

General (Retired) David M. “Rod” Rodriguez is a 1976 graduate 

of the United States Military Academy at West Point. In his last assignment, he was Commander, Joint Task Force-82 in Afghanistan. His most 

recent commands included Commander of the US Africa Command 

(2013–2016); Commanding General of the US Army Forces Command 

(2011–2013); Commander, International Security Assistance Force Joint 

Command (IJC), and Deputy Commander, US Forces–Afghanistan (USFOR-A) from 2009–2011. He also commanded the 82nd Airborne Division; the 2nd Brigade, 82nd Airborne Division; and the 2d Battalion, 

502nd Infantry Regiment, 101st Airborne Division. Rodriguez’s extensive 

combat experience included G-3 Planner, XVIII Airborne Corps, Operation Just Cause, 1989–1990; Operations Officer, 1st Battalion, 505th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 82nd Airborne Division, Desert Shield/Desert 

Storm, 1990–1991; Assistant Division Commander, 4th Infantry Division 

(Mechanized), 2002– 2003; Commander, Multi-National Division–Northwest, 2005; Special Assistant to the Commander, Multi-National Corps–

Iraq, 2006. He received a Master of Arts in National Security and Strategic 

Studies from the US Naval War College and a Master’s of Military Art and 

Science from the US Army Command and General Staff College’s School 

of Advanced Military Studies in 1989.

Wilson A. “Al” Shoffner

Major General Wilson A. Shoffner is a 1988 graduate of the US Military Academy at West Point, where he earned a Bachelor of Science degree 
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in International Relations. Major General Shoffner’s command experience 

includes B Battery, 3rd Battalion, 319th Field Artillery Regiment, 2d Battalion, 319th Airborne Field Artillery Regiment, and the 18th Fires Brigade. 

Operational deployments include Saudi Arabia and Iraq during Operation 

Desert Shield and Desert Storm, and Afghanistan in 2003 as the Chief of 

Plans, 82nd Airborne Division during Operation Enduring Freedom. From 

2003–05, Major General Shoffner served as the Deputy Chief of Plans for 

the NATO Allied Rapid Reaction Corps. Prior to assuming command of 

Fort Sill and the Fires Center of Excellence in November 2017, he served 

on the Army Staff in the Pentagon as Director, Army Talent Management 

Task Force, and Director of Operations, Army Rapid Capabilities Office. 

He earned a Master of Military Art and Science from the US Army Command and General Staff College’s School of Advanced Military Studies and 

a Master of Arts in National Security and Strategic Studies from the Naval 

War College. 

David Thuell

David Thuell earned a BA in Economics from Carleton University in 

1996. He has worked in the telecommunications industry and is pursuing 

a Master’s degree in History at Norwich University. His primary area of 

research is the Western Front, First World War. 

Lincoln R. Ward

Major Lincoln R. Ward recently completed a tour of duty as a Joint 

Plans Officer, Combined Joint Task Force–Horn of Africa, in Djibouti. He 

earned a BA in History from Washington State University, a Master’s of 

Education from Western Kentucky University, and a Master’s in Military 

Art and Science from the US Army Command and General Staff College’s School of Advanced Military Studies. He is a field artillery officer 

and has served with infantry, heavy, and Stryker brigade combat teams in 

Korea, Iraq, and Afghanistan. 

Jeffrey S. Wright

Major Jeffrey S. Wright is assigned to the Department of Military Instruction, US Military Academy. Previously he was Operations Officer 

for 3-16th Field Artillery, 2d Armored Brigade Combat Team, 1st Cavalry Division. He earned a BS in European History from the US Military 

Academy, an MA in International Relations from Webster University, and 

a Master’s in Military Art and Science from the US Army Command and 

General Staff College’s School of Advanced Military Studies.
 
 
U.S. Army Combined Arms Center