Editor’s note: This piece was written several weeks ago, so it is not in direct response to “Why Afghanistan Might Be Marines’ Last Fight,” which was linked by Ranger Up’s Facebook page, but rather an article making a similar argument over a month ago. We found it pertinent to post now, given the article from yesterday, and the fact that it addresses the same topic.

By Mr. Twisted

A recent article(1) in Foreign Policy magazine had a few interesting thoughts about the future of warfare and the role of certain specialties in it. The article, entitled “Can the Marines Survive?” focused on the Marine Corps and its infantry-dominated way of doing business and whether or not that will be applicable in the future, given our technological advancements in and around the battlefield.

I’m not going to parse the article by quoting from and then commenting on various portions of it because, let’s be honest, that’s not what we do here. If you want to read the article, you’re certainly welcome to do so. However, I would like to offer up a few thoughts on the future of the Infantry and, in the process, address why I think the author of said piece is perhaps a bit misguided.

The Infantry isn’t going anywhere. Or at least it shouldn’t. We have learned time and time again, in numerous wars (and with the cost of human lives), that “boots on the ground” cannot be substituted with anything else. Technological advancements have been touted as the answer to grunt work more than a few times in the last several decades. Reconnaissance aircraft of World War II eventually gave way to the advent of high altitude spy planes like the U-2 and the SR-71, which were eventually supplanted by orbiting satellites that could read license plates on cars, and now drone capability has added another dimension to that, as well. All of these are notable leaps forward in terms of martial capabilities, to be sure; but not one of them—or all in aggregate—can do what the Infantry does in a battle space.

When collecting data there is, ultimately, the question of “why.” A satellite or a drone can capture thousands of images of enemy activity and do so completely undetected, but they do not have the capability of finding out the motive behind that which they are witnessing. This is a task left to those brave souls who are willing to walk door to door, questioning people who may very well wish to cut off their heads or blow them up while handing out soccer balls to kids. The supersonic aircraft with the latest and greatest picture-taking technology may very well be able to provide beautifully detailed photographs of the battle space, yet they lack greatly in that all-important and priceless commodity known as HUMINT.

As most everyone here knows from first-hand experience already, we were successful in Iraq not because of leaps forward in technology but rather due to a better strategy. “The Surge” was a lot less about “more troops” than it was about Soldiers and Marines getting out into the streets and becoming a bigger patrolling presence; more walking and talking and less riding around in tanks, as it were. A sound counterinsurgency plan depends a great deal more on the Principles of Patrolling (and support for those doing the patrolling) than on how accurately a drone can fire a missile.

To ignore lessons such as these going into the future, then, would be more than slightly, well…ignorant. The argument that Army and Marine Infantry have become “largely irrelevant” is not only short-sided but also dangerously stupid.

While technology is constantly advancing and developing—faster every day, it would seem—the fundamentals of what makes a fighting force successful do not change. Success on the field of battle is still about one group enacting its will over another and occupying the space necessary to control a given area. To paraphrase Von Clausewitz, war is much like boxing on a grand scale. One side must control and/or subdue the other while physically owning a particular piece of real estate. This cannot now—nor has it ever been possible in the past—be accomplished by technology flying through the air, hundreds of feet above a desired area; it must be accomplished by the sweat and blood of people carrying heavy weights and placing themselves directly in danger to accomplish a goal.

The Lieutenant Colonel who wrote the article makes the claim that the methods of training used by both the Army and the Marine Corps are behind the curve being set by the Air Force and Navy because they are still training in infantry tactics that “would be recognizable to a World War II vet…” This is not necessarily a bad thing. The fundamentals that make an infantry unit successful are no less relevant in the mountains of the Hindu Kush than they were on the beaches of Normandy.

The details of the Situation, Mission, Execution, Service & Support, and Command & Signal may change, but the fact that they are all integral pieces of a battle plan does not. Fundamental components of martial tactics are just that—fundamental.

Ultimately, while LTC Freeman has a solid point that fighting forces need to adapt to new methods of fighting—this has been the case throughout the history of warfare—his argument hinges primarily on the assumption that technology A) will always be readily available, and B) always work. We all know that the latter is most certainly false and the former is a dangerous gamble to hang one’s hat on.

The simple fact is this: at the core of every successful unit—from the team on up—is the ability to shoot, move, and communicate well. Being able to accomplish those together with multiple weapon systems, multiple modes of transportation (including one’s own feet), and multiple communication devices is unquestionably ideal; but just being able to do them at all means starting with the basics—which starts with training people to be fighters who rely on one another long before they rely on technology.

LTC Freeman’s prediction that we will “never fight another war in the mud” is wishful thinking at best and ignores a stark reality: nations will always need warriors who can fight in the mud, wherever and whatever that mud may be. The rifleman will not be an antiquated term anytime soon, as he claims, because the warrior with his personal weapon does so much more than simply engage other warriors with their personal weapons. They have made up the heart and soul of armies for thousands of years—and they will continue to do so for a very long time to come.

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