Gazette Magazines - Marine Corps Association

Exquisite and Insufficient

The fires revolution the Marine Corps missed

One of the central premises of Marine Corps Force Design was the evolving relationship between precision and mass. The Marine Corps subscribed to the thesis that precision strike was rendering mass increasingly obsolete. While the Service correctly recognized the changing character of war, its diagnosis missed some critical points. Mass remains a crucial component of warfighting, albeit with changing characteristics. Precision alone is an insufficient counter for mass. Precision weapons must be employed at a scale that brings their own character of mass—the emerging trend of precision mass.1 The misdiagnosis has led the Service to focus on the wrong prescription. The Service has made significant investments in exquisite precision-strike capabilities. While these systems mark revolutionary change for the Marine Corps, they follow troubling trends in the DOD, focusing on exquisite, low-density acquisition projects. To be sure, these are highly lethal and capable systems, but they may be too low-density to contend with the mass that our pacing adversary will bring to a conflict. The Marine Corps must reckon with this emerging trend and undertake a course correction to embrace precision mass.

Strategic Context
This argument begins from a recognition that many aspects of the Service strategy are sound. Specifically, the focus on China as the pacing threat and the regional focus on countering China in the Western Pacific are sound. The focus aligns well with the strategic guidance in the 2018 National Defense Strategy and its subsequent updates. It also aligns with the strategy of denial, which has been espoused by top civilian policy leaders within the Pentagon—the strategy which states the United States’ primary objective is to deny China regional hegemony in Asia, and the best way to do so is to contest in the Indo-Pacific.2

In China’s pursuit of regional hegemony, Taiwan is the most significant prize—and the prize for which China would most likely resort to force and war with the United States and its allies to achieve. To that end, the Marine Corps developed concepts focused on securing and maintaining key maritime terrain within the first island chain, within China’s weapon engagement zone, of its highly capable precision-strike capabilities. These concepts envision Marines deployed across key maritime terrain in survivable and risk-tolerant formations—conducting sea-denial operations and extending the reach of the Joint Force through organic precision strike, target acquisition for joint prosecution, and disrupting the People’s Liberation Army’s (PLA) targeting cycle through reconnaissance and counterreconnaissance.

While this strategy is sound, the question is whether the Service has chosen the right tools. To implement this strategy effectively, the Marine Corps must possess a scalable form of precision fires.

The Emergence of Precision Mass
Despite the Marine Corps’ efforts to shift from mass to precision, evidence from recent conflicts suggests that mass has evolved rather than faded into irrelevance. Michael Horowitz described the trend of precision mass in Foreign Affairs3 and elsewhere as the ability of militaries to reintroduce mass to the battlefield, despite many predictions that precision was antithetical to the existence of mass on future battlefields.4 However, the return of mass is not mass as it was; heavy, armored vehicles and large formations still exist, but they are held at risk by low-cost, attritable, precision systems increasingly imbued with autonomy. Employed at scale, these systems demonstrate the evolution of mass.

Unmanned precision systems are nothing new. Perhaps the most compelling example of the capabilities of exquisite precision-strike systems against traditional mass is the incident referred to as the “Highway of Death,” the name describing the carnage unleashed on the Iraqi Army retreating from Kuwait in 1991. There are numerous additional examples from the long wars of the Middle East. Archives are full of drone footage of insurgents burying improvised explosive devices next to a road, only to be killed by a Hellfire missile. Precision strike was also a key component of the “by, with, and through” counter-ISIS campaign. The United States has also perfected a form of surgical precision, evidenced by events like the assassination of Qasem Soleimani, where MQ-9s conducted surveillance and delivered a bladed variant of a Hellfire meant to eliminate a specific target with minimal collateral damage. Other types of warheads can also be delivered with the same precision, making high-value targets such as armored vehicles and the concentration of traditional mass on the battlefield a liability. This type of precision led some to believe that mass was becoming a relic of the past.

This is far from the case. We have seen in recent conflicts that powerful state actors (namely Russia), seeking to pursue objectives through force, still utilize mass as an instrument. The war in Ukraine still features all the traditional features of mass, including sizable infantry formations and armored vehicles, but this mass must contend with the proliferation of precision. Both Ukraine and Russia have forms of exquisite precision weapons, but the true evolution is the increasing ubiquity of precision-mass systems.

This new type of precision weapon differs in key aspects from exquisite precision. In general, these systems lack the kind of surgical precision described above and are generally less capable compared to exquisite systems on a one-to-one basis. However, with less exquisite capability comes a cheaper price tag, and it is feasible to produce at a scale that keeps costs per system orders of magnitude cheaper. These precision mass systems are also often used as single-use munitions or one-way attacks rather than platforms that must be survivable.

Precision mass systems have been utilized at the tactical and operational levels. At the tactical level, first-person-view drones have become ubiquitous in recent conflicts, including the Ukrainian War, the Syrian Civil War, and the war in Gaza.

At the operational level, the Iranian-designed Shahed drone has become the poster child for the precision-mass movement trend. The Shahed 136 is a group 3 unmanned aerial system (UAS) designed for one-way attack missions, with open-source operational range estimates ranging from 1,000 to 2,000 miles.5 The Shahed 136, and its Russian-produced variant Geran-2, has become a favorite of the Russians to conduct long-range strikes on Ukrainian infrastructure, cities, and fixed military targets. The Russians heavily utilize them, despite their slow speed, loud noise, and relative ease of interception by various forms of air defense. The redeeming quality of this weapon is its cost and ease of manufacturing. At an estimated cost of $30,000 per unit and with a large initial supply from Iran, now supplemented by domestic Russian production, the Russian military has turned a seemingly crude tool into an effective operational capability.6

Data on the usage of Shaheds throughout the conflict demonstrates how the effectiveness of a weapon like the Shahed increases as it scales.7 In Figure 1, each point represents a Russian attack with Shahed-style drones, as shown by the date and the number of drones in the attack. The attack size has grown as the conflict continues, with a notable increase beginning in the summer of 2024.

*Figure 1. Size of Russian Shahed swarms over time. Data source: Petro Ivaniuk, “Massive Missile Attacks on Ukraine,”* Kaggle, n.d., https://www.kaggle.com/datasets/piterfm/massive-missile-attacks-on-ukraine. (Image source: Author.)

This increase in mass has come with an increase in effectiveness. Early in the war, when attack sizes were small, Ukrainian air defenses routinely achieved shootdown rates of 80 to 100 percent—a cumulative shootdown rate of 85.6 percent between September 2022 and September 2024. This changed when the attack sizes began to increase. In August 2024, Russia sharply increased the number of Shaheds in a single attack. The increase in attack volume resulted in a decline in the shootdown rate—Ukrainian air defenses could not keep up. Figure 2 shows that, as of this writing, the Ukrainians have been unable to catch up.

With shoot-down rates hovering around 60 percent, an attack of 150 Shaheds will see about 60 find their way through defenses to hit a target. This is not an impressive figure by the standards of exquisite precision systems. Still, due to the affordability and scalability of Shaheds, they remain a preferred weapon of the Russians and a powerful example of the utility of precision mass.8

In addition to the Russian use case, the Shahed and other systems like it have also been used in the Houthi campaign to disrupt shipping in the Red Sea. The Houthi campaign featured the weapons in a different context, but most notably, they did not employ the systems in large, massed attacks. For the most part, these systems have been used in small enough attack sizes that the surface combatants in the area have been able to defend against the threats.9 (As an aside, this does not mean the attacks are not having the desired effects, as global shipping has been massively disrupted.) However, U.S. ships have had to contend with these threats and expend air and missile defense capacity. In theory, if these one-way attack drones were employed in mass, they could overwhelm a ship’s defenses and begin to hit the target.10 Understanding this maritime use and the potential against surface targets is especially relevant for the Marine Corps.

*Figure 2. Monthly Shahed shootdown rate throughout the conflict. Data source: Petro Ivaniuk, “Massive Missile Attacks on Ukraine,”* Kaggle, n.d., https://www.kaggle.com/datasets/piterfm/massive-missile-attacks-on-ukraine.(Image source: Author.)

What the Marine Corps Missed
Marine Corps modernization was primarily built around the stand-in force in the Western Pacific. As previously stated, the scenario of gravest concern is China attempting to reunify with Taiwan by force. The operation would feature a massive amphibious invasion if Beijing pursued this goal militarily. Between the PLA Navy with its surface combatants, landing craft, support vessels, and Chinese maritime militia, the number of ships would be counted in thousands.

In response to this challenge, the Marine Corps designed its force around exquisite programs like Navy-Marine Expeditionary Ship Interdiction System, MQ-9A, and Long-Range Anti-Ship Missile (LRASM). This approach presumed the predominance of precision. However, precision in insufficient quantity cannot overcome mass. While highly capable, the Marine Corps’ focus on exquisite systems will be limited in number, expensive to field, and optimized for high-value targets. They are not well-suited to deal with the sheer volume of platforms that would be involved in a cross-strait invasion. While these weapons can credibly hold high-value targets at risk, when fielded in low density, they will not be sufficient. Moreover, the use of these exquisite systems represents a reliance on complex kill chains, which will be discussed in more detail below.

This is where the Marine Corps missed a critical opportunity. The Service failed to anticipate the emergence of precision mass—using large numbers of lower-cost, expendable, and increasingly autonomous munitions. The Marine Corps is ill-equipped to deal with the mass it would encounter in a Taiwan invasion scenario.

Missile Math: Salvo Analysis
A critical component to achieving mass is scalability and affordability. It is obvious that precision mass systems are cheaper on a one-to-one basis. However, to achieve these effects, they must be employed in mass. Do cost savings hold when considering employment in mass?

As a preliminary example, consider the engagement of a Luyang III-class destroyer. The cube root rule is often used to determine the amount of ordnance required to sink a ship.10 The rule says that the cube root of the ship’s total weight in thousands of tons is a good planning factor for the weight of explosives in thousand-pound bomb equivalent units required to sink it. In this example, the Luyang III weighs 7,500 tons, which, according to the cube root rule, would require approximately 1,957 pounds of explosive ordnance to sink. The table below shows the minimum number of hits required from several weapons to sink a Luyang III, along with the associated cost. Here, two anti-ship munitions are compared to the Shahed-136.

The Shahed requires many more hits to bring the minimum ordnance to the target, but it does so at a fraction of the cost. However, this does not account for the defensive capabilities of the targeted Luyang III. A Shahed or similar munition does not have the countermeasures to get past a ship’s multi-layered defense like the more exquisite systems do. Instead, they would rely on being employed in mass to overwhelm defenses and score enough hits to sink the ship or damage it past combat effectiveness.

To apply this to the Luyang case, we could expand our minimum salvo analysis by conservatively stating that a Luyang destroyer can comfortably intercept two well-aimed anti-ship missiles. This would mean the minimum salvo would have to be increased to 5 Naval Strike Missiles (NSM) at $9.5 million, or 4 LRASMs totaling $12.8 million. A Luyang and its layered defenses could easily handle small formations of Shahed-like attacks. The ship could likely handle swarms measured in scores. There will, however, be a saturation point, and at the cost of the NSM salvo at $9.5 million, this could buy 316 Shaheds, or in the $12.8 million LRASM case, this could buy 426 Shaheds. The saturation point of defenses involves some guesswork and would require testing and development of tactics. But for illustrative purposes, if the saturation point were 50 or 100 drones, you could effectively engage 6 or 3 ships, respectively, at the same cost of one NSM engagement.11

This imagined long-range one-way attack capability may also be utilized in other ways. It could be used as part of a complex attack, combining these low-cost munitions with high-end anti-ship missiles and non-kinetic munitions. It is also true that these systems are a better match for the many hundreds of landing vessels that would be present in a Taiwan invasion scenario. The Joint Force will not possess enough precision missiles to target every PLA Navy and maritime militia vessel involved in the invasion; therefore, precision alone will not be sufficient. In this case, mass must be countered with mass. One-way attack drones, deployed at scale, present a feasible option for doing so.

Designing the Kill Chain
Kill chains prosecuted by exquisite precision systems, such as the NSM, are often described by the sequence of discrete events: find, fix, track, target, engage, and assess (F2T2EA). This sequence is intuitive and straightforward, but the process can often involve multiple systems, significant data inputs, and a complex web of command relationships to ensure the kill chain functions properly. Much of the stand-in force’s warfighting role concerning the Joint Force is built around some aspect of the F2T2EA cycle. The initial focus on long-range, anti-ship fires heavily emphasized the engagement part of the chain. As the Service has learned and made evident in its subsequent updates, focusing solely on engagement is insufficient. As the Service was forced to reckon with this, the value proposition evolved to include reconnaissance and counterreconnaissance, and more recently, focused on serving as the joint terminal attack controller of the Joint Force.12 In short, the Service seeks to add value across the F2T2EA targeting cycle—doing jobs it is suitable for it based on its geographic placement.

The by-product of this focus has made the Service’s value proposition dependent on continuous connectivity with the Joint Force and intact command and control. A cursory search of contemporary Chinese military thought reveals that joint communication will undoubtedly be a target, and a conflict would likely involve periods of varying levels of communication and command and control degradation.13 Given this likelihood, the Marine Corps should evaluate its Service strategy and ensure its value proposition is not brittle in the face of likely enemy actions.

This is where precision mass enabled by autonomy offers an alternative. A kill chain designed around precision mass enabled by autonomy can compress the required steps and reduce reliance on fragile enabling components. Again, consider the use of a Shahed-like long-range, one-way-attack drone by Marine forces in a Taiwan invasion scenario. In this scenario, the PLA invasion fleet could only feasibly use a finite number of maritime routes. Utilizing pre-conflict indications and warnings, the routes may become more evident. To employ these one-way attack drones, the kill chain can be reduced to

Find or confirm the approach corridor, and have drones fly out to pre-designated kill boxes.
Targets are acquired by onboard computer vision or other appropriate AI models.
Targets are engaged autonomously.

This model reduces the kill chain to “find, target, engage,” thus eliminating the need for persistent tracking, human-in-the-loop decisions, and complex data fusion during execution. This approach also allows for massed fires, which are critical for achieving the desired effects of saturating air and missile defense systems. The C2 burden of the entire F2T2EA cycle would make it near impossible to accomplish these massed fires and would make fires impossible in the case of denied C2 communications.

This shift simplifies operations, allows for massed fires, and removes dependencies on the other systems that could make the kill chain brittle. This is especially prescient when some of the Service’s targeting platforms are far from survivable. Notably, MQ-9 shootdowns by Houthi rebels have become a routine event.14

Precision mass, in this context, is not just a cost-effective strike option—it is a way to diversify and harden the Joint Force’s approach to targeting, making it more resilient in a degraded communications environment. Ultimately, larger magazine depths of less expensive munitions and autonomy could enable the prosecution of more targets, adding efficiency to the cycle.

Implementation and Challenges
The Marine Corps’ failure to recognize and adopt precision mass can be symptomatic of larger DOD acquisition trends—a focus on exquisite acquisition projects led to a particular and limited view of what precision could be. Ironically, the course correction needed may also come from the larger DOD. The Office of the Secretary of Defense (OSD) Replicator initiative was created to help build this type of attritable precision mass systems. Part of the initiative signals to the U.S. defense industry that this capability is desired and needed. This is crucial, as industrial capacity has played a critical role in operationalizing these weapons at scale for both Ukraine and Russia.15 In this initiative, OSD has essentially taken the Field of Dreams approach: if they build it, the services will come. Replicator skipped the Services-led capability development process. Instead, OSD is buying systems, and it is up to the Services to turn them into a capability.

However, OSD alone will not save the Marine Corps. For these systems to become a capability, the Service must ultimately take action. Specifically, the Marine Corps must create organizational structure, develop concepts, define its own requirements, and take other actions across the DOTMLPF spectrum.

From an organizational structural perspective, this will be a challenge. Employing an operational capability, such as a long-range one-way attack, at scale will likely require an O-5-level command structure. However, this will likely mean considering further cuts to the existing structure beyond Force Design’s initial shuffle—a challenging proposition.

The existing use cases described in this article, along with the proposed compression of the kill chain with autonomy, offer a starting point for creating concepts to employ precision mass; however, they require detailed attention and refinement. These concepts can enable the Marine Corps to write requirements tailored to its specific needs.

It is essential to stress that discipline in the requirements process is crucial. Requirements creep is real, and it can undermine the value proposition of these systems. The value proposition of precision mass is highly contingent on affordability. Should this be done in an undisciplined manner, people in the process will see a group-3 UAS being developed and desire it to have a modular payload for every possible scenario, make it resilient to every form of adversary attack, and be able to operate in any imaginable environment. The result will be an overpriced Frankenstein, highly capable, unaffordable, and low-density—back to where we began.

Conclusion
The Marine Corps was bold in implementing Force Design. Its focus on the evolving interplay of precision and mass led to the bold move of shedding tanks and adopting precision fires. However, course correction is needed. In the Marine Corps’ most challenging warfighting scenarios on the horizon, it will have to contend with mass. Precision is a part of the answer in countering this mass, but it must scale. Embracing precision mass offers a viable way ahead.

>Maj Barlow is a Combat Engineer Officer. He most recently served as an Operations Research Analyst with the Operations Analysis Directorate, Combat Development & Integration. He is currently a student at the Maritime Advanced Warfighting School, U.S. Naval War College.

Notes

1. Machael Horowitz, “Battles of Precise Mass: Technology is remaking War—and America Must Adapt,” Foreign Affairs, October 22, 2024, https://www.foreignaffairs.com/world/battles-precise-mass-technology-war-horowitz.

2. Colby Elbridge, The Strategy of Denial: American Defense in an Age of Great Power Conflict (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2021).

3. Ibid.

4. Michael Horowitz and Joshua Schwartz, “Stealth and Scale: Quality, Quantity, and Modern Military Power,” War on the Rocks, December 18, 2024, https://warontherocks.
com/2024/12/stealth-and-scale-quality-quantity-and-modern-military-power.

5. Uzi Rubin, “Russia’s Iranian-Made UAVs: A Technical Profile,” RUSI, January 13, 2023, https://www.rusi.org/explore-our-research/publications/commentary/russias-iranian-made-uavs-technical-profile.

6. Ibid.

7. Data available in open source. Petro Ivaniuk, “Massive Missile Attacks on Ukraine,” Kaggle, n.d., https://www.kaggle.com/datasets/piterfm/massive-missile-attacks-on-ukraine. Note: data last updated on August 25, 2025. Data included in graphics up to July 31, 2025, to avoid truncating monthly numbers.

8. Many of these insights were originally shared in Patrick Reilly and Aaron Barlow, “Sustained Russian Shahed Swarms: The War of Precision Mass Continues,” War Quants, February 2025, https://www.warquants.com/p/sustained-russian-shahed-swarms-the.

9. Garrett Nada, “Timeline: Houthi Attacks,” Wilson Center, July 26, 2024, https://www.wilsoncenter.org/article/timeline-houthi-attacks.

10. Colton Buyers, “Carrier 2.0: The Drone Carrier Revolution,” War Quants, December 2024, https://www.warquants.com/p/carrier-20-the-drone-carrier-revolution.

11. Salvo analysis informed by the methods of Wayne Hughes. Wayne P. Hughes, Jr., “A Salvo Model of Warships in Missile Combat Used to Evaluate Their Staying Power,” Naval Research Logistics 42, No. 2 (1995), https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1002/1520-6750
(199503)42:2%3C267::AID-NAV3220420
209%3E3.0.CO;2-Y.

12. General Eric Smith, 39th Commandant’s Planning Guidance, August 2024, (Washington, DC: March 2025).

13. Relevant concepts: Informatized Local Wars and Systems Confrontation and Systems Destruction Warfare.

14. Luis Martinez, “Houthis Shoot Down Growing Number of US Drones,” ABC News, April 2025, https://abcnews.go.com/Politics/houthis-shoot-growing-number-us-drones/story?id=121099082.

15. Sean Harper, “Factory-to-Frontline: How Ukraine’s 2025 Drone Surge is Reshaping the Battlefield,” War Quants, March 2025, https://www.warquants.com/p/factory-to-frontline-pipeline.

Lessons from an Unlikely Enemy

What the Marine Corps can learn from the Houthis

The Uncomfortable Teacher
The Houthis are not the type of adversary the Marine Corps typically studies for operational inspiration. As a non-peer, non-state actor labeled a terrorist group, they lack the prestige, professionalism, or legitimacy usually associated with doctrinal case studies. Yet, over the past year, Houthi forces operating out of Yemen have managed to challenge the security of global shipping lanes, draw sustained U.S. naval and air power into a secondary theater, and impose billions of dollars in operational and economic costs, all without fielding a navy or an air force.1

This comes at a time when the Marine Corps is transforming through concepts like Expeditionary Advanced Base Operations and Stand-In Forces, emphasizing distributed, resilient operations in contested maritime environments. While their methods are often illegal and morally indefensible, the Houthis’ impact offers a unique opportunity for doctrinal reflection.
The Marine Corps should, by no means, admire the Houthis’ ideology. Rather, the Marine Corps must extract operational lessons from unlikely sources to adapt to future fights. The following sections will explore how the Houthis, through asymmetry, survivability, and adaptation, achieve outsized effects, and how those principles can inform the Marine Littoral Regiment (MLR) and broader force design for the modern era.2

While their methods are often illegal and morally indefensible, their effects are undeniable. If the Marine Corps is serious about fighting and winning in austere, distributed environments, it must be willing to study even the most unlikely sources. The Houthi case offers hard-earned lessons in survivability, asymmetry, and operational economy that should inform how the MLR and broader force structure evolves for the future fight.3

Strategic Asymmetry: Cost vs Consequence
Houthi forces have demonstrated a mature understanding of asymmetry. Rather than destroy U.S. naval assets outright, they use cheap munitions such as commercial drones, modified cruise missiles, and explosive-laden boats to impose strategic costs. Each intercepted missile or drone requires an expensive response, often in the form of a $1–4 million missile from a U.S. destroyer. In total, U.S. defensive operations in the Red Sea and surrounding areas have cost upward of $1 billion in munitions and operational expenses alone, with additional billions in indirect costs such as rerouted shipping and higher insurance premiums.4 By comparison, the cost of the Houthi weapons themselves, such as $10,000 drones or $100,000 cruise missiles, is negligible in scale.

Beyond economics, the Houthis use drone swarms and loitering munitions to saturate and deplete air defense systems before launching a follow-on strike. In January 2024, the Houthis struck the Marlin Luanda tanker in the Gulf of Aden, causing a significant fire and proving that these lower-end systems can achieve kinetic results.5 Their most notable success came in June 2024 when a Houthi explosive-laden unmanned surface vessel (USV) struck the MV Tutor, sinking the ship and killing one crew member.6 This layered threat model is tactically simple but strategically shrewd. The goal is not necessarily to achieve a kill; rather, it is to force the United States and its allies into a continuous, expensive, and unsustainable defensive posture.

The Marine Corps should take note. As future stand-in forces operate inside contested maritime zones, they will need ways to impose cost and uncertainty without relying solely on exquisite, high-end platforms. A modern application of asymmetry could involve pairing low-cost decoys, unmanned systems, and loitering munitions with more capable fires to overwhelm adversary defenses. In this way, even systems that fail to achieve kinetic effects can still achieve operational leverage by shaping enemy behavior.

Survivability by Simplicity
One of the most effective aspects of the Houthi model is its survivability. They maintain a distributed and mobile network of launch platforms that are often abandoned or hidden immediately after firing. Trucks are used as mobile launchers for cruise missiles and ballistic systems, often concealed in civilian areas, caves, or terrain features until moments before launch.7 Their use of emission control prevents early detection, and their units disaggregate immediately after firing. In February 2025, a Houthi launcher was observed firing a Quds-4 cruise missile and then being driven into a civilian market to avoid retribution.8
Communications are kept minimal or emission-controlled, and once an attack is executed, personnel disperse into civilian terrain or simply leave the launcher behind. This not only frustrates intelligence and targeting but also preserves the force for continued operations. The United States has not been able to consistently eliminate these systems pre-launch, despite a robust intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance (ISR) presence.9

The Marine Corps, particularly MLR units, should learn from this. Survivability in the modern fight is not just about armor or stealth. Survivability also consists of being hard to find, fast to fire, and quick to disappear. Doctrinal emphasis on mobility, concealment, and operational discipline can make U.S. forces just as elusive, without sacrificing accountability or legitimacy. The Houthis have proven that a force does not need to win the ISR battle to survive it.

Diverse, Attritable Toolkits: A Naval Combined-Arms Dilemma
The Houthis field a layered suite of weapons that presents a genuine combined-arms dilemma for naval forces. Their toolkits include anti-ship cruise missiles, land-attack cruise missiles, anti-ship ballistic missiles, USVs, and loitering drones. Quds-series missiles are estimated to have ranges exceeding 800 km, while their anti-ship ballistic missiles have struck ships as far as 450 km from shore.10
None of these systems individually outmatches U.S. capabilities, but together they generate a threat environment that is difficult to counter. Ships defending against USVs must stay close to the waterline, leaving themselves vulnerable to ballistic attack. Those focused on air threats may miss surface drones closing in below radar coverage. In one attack sequence, U.S. destroyers were forced to intercept multiple drones and missiles simultaneously, each requiring precision munitions worth millions of dollars.11

For the Marine Corps, this underscores the importance of fielding multi-domain fires within each littoral unit. A mix of kinetic systems from low-cost drones to mobile anti-ship missiles, combined with electronic warfare and ISR platforms, can multiply effects. The Houthis have shown that quantity and diversity, even at low quality, can complicate enemy decision making and slow their tempo. The MLR must adopt a similar mindset: present layered, redundant, and hard-to-counter threats that punch above their cost.

Civilian Integration and Spotting Networks
Another hallmark of Houthi operations is their use of civilian infrastructure and population networks for ISR. Fishing vessels double as spotters, visually identifying ships and relaying coordinates via handheld radios or encrypted apps. In multiple instances, commercial ships were identified in port or in transit by civilian spotters before being targeted by drones or cruise missiles.12 Civilian buildings conceal launchers and drone facilities. While this violates the Law of Armed Conflict, the tactical value is undeniable: their sensors are cheap, persistent, and embedded in the battlespace.
Without violating ethical norms, the Marine Corps could adopt a version of this approach. In the Pacific, partnerships with allied fishing cooperatives, coastal villages, or maritime agencies could form a “civilian sensor net” that extends ISR reach well beyond the line of contact. Training and equipping local partners with basic observation tools would enable persistent awareness without overcommitting precious ISR platforms.

Imposing Strategic Effects Without Strategic Assets
Perhaps the most sobering aspect of the Houthi model is its ability to impose global consequences without possessing any strategic assets. The Houthis have no navy, no air force, and no space capabilities. Yet, through irregular adaptation and operational imagination, they have shaped international shipping patterns, tied down two U.S. carrier strike groups, and forced NATO allies to reposition naval assets to the Red Sea.13 The sinking of the MV Tutor, the disruption of oil exports, and the rerouting of commercial traffic around the Cape of Good Hope all serve as examples of strategic effects generated by non-strategic means.

This should provoke introspection in the Marine Corps. Are we over-relying on exquisite platforms and strategic infrastructure to produce effects that could be achieved more flexibly? In an era of stand-in forces, cost-imposing tactics, and contested logistics, the ability to act imaginatively with limited means will define effectiveness. The Houthis’ methods show that operational leverage comes not just from capability but also from mindset. For the MLR, this means thinking more like an insurgent force embedded in a peer conflict: lethal, elusive, and unburdened by legacy systems.

Vignette: Luzon, 2028
Dawn broke over the western coast of Luzon as an MLR operated in near silence from a concealed position twelve kilometers inland. A Chinese Type 055 destroyer had been operating aggressively in the Bashi Channel, supported by drone swarms and long-range ISR aircraft. The MLR’s command node, decentralized and mobile, received a coded message from a local fishing cooperative. The vessel had tracked the destroyer visually for the past six hours and confirmed its current position within strike range.
A low-cost drone swarm was launched first with dozens of quadcopters flying erratically toward the Chinese ship, each carrying decoy electronics. As the destroyer activated its radar and fired interceptors to neutralize the swarm, the Marines triggered a coordinated release of loitering munitions from concealed positions along the coast. Simultaneously, a pair of unmanned surface vessels launched from a hidden estuary began their approach.

With enemy defenses saturated and distracted, two modified Naval Strike Missile platforms emerged from hardened terrain shelters, fired their payloads, and immediately shut down. Marines relocated the launch vehicles within minutes. By the time the Type 055 realized it was under real attack, it had less than 20 seconds to react. One missile struck amidships. The damage forced the People’s Liberation Army Navy to withdraw all major surface combatants from the Luzon Strait for the next 72 hours, effectively shutting down the corridor to Chinese naval operations and buying critical maneuver space for joint forces operating in the Philippine archipelago. The vessel lost propulsion and was forced to withdraw under tow.

The Marines never held terrain. They never used a tank. And they never engaged in a direct firefight. But by combining deception, distributed fires, local ISR, and low-cost saturation tactics, they accomplished what a billion-dollar ship could not: denying the sea to the enemy.

As the unit exfiltrated and reestablished a fallback position further south, a company gunnery sergeant remarked, “We never thought we’d borrow tactics from a Yemeni militia. But today? It worked.”

From Imitation to Innovation
While the Houthis present a unique and unlikely source of tactical insight, the goal is not imitation—it is transformation. The Marine Corps must examine what makes Houthi tactics effective, discard the illegal and unethical, and adapt the rest into a professional, scalable doctrine suited for great power competition. That means embracing low-cost, modular capabilities that degrade enemy systems. It means devolving initiative to the lowest levels so Marines can act fast and independently. It means integrating local partnerships to expand awareness in ways that satellites and drones cannot.
In short, it means embracing a mindset that values effectiveness over tradition. We cannot afford to wait for peer adversaries to teach us what the Houthis already have. The lessons are available now, but only if we have the humility to learn.

We Say, “More With Less”—They Live It
The Marine Corps often touts its ability to do more with less. But in the Houthis, we see a group doing exactly that and achieving strategic effects. They do not just stretch limited resources; they maximize them in ways that challenge even the most advanced militaries. We succeed against them today because of our economic and technological advantages, not because we out-innovate them. That luxury will not exist against a peer adversary.

Studying the Houthis does not require endorsing their ideology or unlawful tactics. It requires the humility to recognize that innovation often comes from the edges of the battlefield, not the center. If the Marine Corps is to remain a stand-in force capable of imposing cost, denying terrain, and surviving in a contested environment, it must look beyond tradition, even if that means learning from our enemies.

>Capt Gunn is the Camp Operations Officer for Camp Schwab, Okinawa. He is an Infantry Officer and will be attending Maneuver Captain’s Career Course in January 2026.

>Sponsored by The 1st Reconnaissance Battalion Association and the Marine Corps Association in honor of LtGen Trainor’s lifetime of exceptional military service and journalistic excellence.

Notes

1. David Lynch. “Houthi attacks are starting to reshape shipping flows,” The Washington Post, January 17, 2024, https://www.washingtonpost.com/business/2024/01/16/shipping-houthi-attack-energy-prices.

2. Headquarters Marine Corps, Force Design 2030 Annual Update (Washington, DC: 2023).

3. Ibid.

4. Ibid.

5. Kathryn Armstrong, “Oil Tanker damaged in Houthi Missile Strike,” BBC News, April 27, 2024, https://www.bbc.com/news/world-middle-east-68909912.

6. David Gritten, “Cargo Ship Tutor Believed to Have Sunk in Red Sea after Houthi Attack,” BBC News, June 20, 2024, https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/cqqqxx9lprpo.

7. UN Panel of Experts on Yemen, Final Report, January 2024.

8. CENTCOM Press Briefing, February 18, 2025.

9. Ibid.

10. Asa Fitch, “How Yemen’s Houthis Are Ramping Up Their Weapons Capability,” The Wall Street Journal, April 25, 2018, https://www.wsj.com/articles/how-yemens-houthis-are-ramping-up-their-weapons-capability-1524664569?ns=prod/accounts-wsj.

11. Jonathan Lehrfeld, “April Red Sea Recap: Fight Against Houthis Continues After Lull” Navy Times, May 1, 2024, https://www.navytimes.com/news/your-navy/2024/04/30/april-red-sea-recap-fight-against-houthis-continues-after-lull/#:~:text=By%20Jonathan%20Lehrfeld,no%20injuries%20or%20damages%20reported.

12. United Nations Security Council, “Letter Dated 11 October 2024 From the Panel of Experts on Yemen Addressed to the President of the Security Council,” October 11, 2024, https://docs.un.org/en/S/2024/731.

13. International Maritime Organization, “Communication from the Secretary-General of Member States’ Representatives,” November 25, 2024, https://wwwcdn.imo.org/localresources/en/MediaCentre/Documents/Red%20Sea%20Incidents%20MS%20version%2025-11-24%20-1-.pdf.

Non-Combat Attacks on the Marine Corps

No respect for the Marine Corps

Throughout its 250-year history, the Marine Corps, in the words of 1980s comedian Rodney Dangerfield, “Don’t get no respect.” Dangerfield’s line describes the treatment of the Marine Corps by four presidents, congressmen, the Army, and the Navy. Non-combat battles for Marines took place between the 1780s through the 1950s. Challenges included proposals to move the Marines into the Army, eliminate the Marines, reduce the size of the Marines, and pull Marines from ships.

After only eight years in operation, the United States disbanded the Marine Corps on 3 September 1783. That was the same day that Great Britain formally recognized the independence of the United States by the Treaty of Paris. President George Washington returned the Marines to action in 1789.

A major attack on the Marines came from President Andrew Jackson. On 8 December 1829, Jackson addressed Congress. He recommended merging the Marine Corps into the artillery or infantry, thus “curing the many defects in its organization.” The Marine Corps Commandant, LtCol Archibald Henderson, defended the existence of the Marine Corps. Henderson said, “As the commandant of the Corps, if I thought such a change necessary for the public interests, I should be among the first to recommend it. It is my fixed opinion that no such change will eventuate in the promotion of either economy or utility.” Henderson’s response led to Congress passing legislation placing the Marine Corps under the Secretary of the Navy in 1834. Jackson signed the bill, ending the placement of Marine functions into the Army.1

In 1864, during the Civil War, a resolution came before Congress to transfer the Marine Corps to the Army. The Marine Corps Commandant, Col Jacob Zeilen, once Henderson’s aide, gathered support from senior Navy officers. That resolution died in a House committee. Three years later, Zeilen faced a new challenge—legislation to abolish the Marine Corps. Again, Zeilen gathered the support of senior naval officers. That legislation failed to get out of committee.2

While the Army and Navy had four-star leaders since 1866, Gen Alexander A. Vandegrift, 18th Commandant of the Marine Corps, became the first Marine to earn a fourth star in 1945. That was 89 years after GEN Ulysses S. Grant and ADM David C. Farragut received their fourth stars.3

Between 1894 and 1908, the Marines faced a reduction in responsibility when naval officers wanted Marines off ships. Then, Assistant Secretary of the Navy Theodore Roosevelt agreed with those officers. In 1908, President Roosevelt acted by ordering Marines off the Navy’s ships. Roosevelt’s 9 November 1908 order came one day before the Marine Corps’ 133rd birthday. Under Roosevelt, the Marines were landbased only.4 Roosevelt’s successor, William Howard Taft, former Secretary of War under Roosevelt, reversed his predecessor’s decision on 26 March 1909.5

While researching generals in the Marine Corps, author Glenn M. Harned said, “Before 1916, the United States Marine Corps did not have a general officers corps. Five Marine officers served as Commandant in the grade of brigadier general or major general, but none of them advanced to the permanent grade above that of colonel.”6

In 1933, ADM William V. Pratt, chief of naval operations, called for “amalgamation of the Marine Corps into the Army.” Pratt explained that Marines were once needed to suppress mutinies by sailors in what was called the “Pratt Memo.” According to Pratt, “As the world became more settled and as colonization settled, the need for small expeditionary forces grew less.” Pratt said other nations abolished or reduced the size of their Marine units, while the United States built “a small Army” within the Navy. Pratt added, “The principal weapons of the larger proportion of the Marine Corps are the rifle, bayonet, and machine gun, exactly the same for the infantry of the Army.” Pratt’s argument suggested that cost savings would result. Pratt said, “Everything except the combat element of the Marine Corps could be eliminated,” adding that administration, training, and supply could be handled by the Army in existing facilities.7

Even during World War II, Gen Vandegrift had to defend the Corps when he spoke to the House Select Committee on Post War Policy on 11 May 1944, 34 days before Marines landed on Saipan. Vandegrift explained the Marine Corps had to fight for its existence throughout its history. Vandegrift reminded committee members of the 1867 proposal to abolish the Marine Corps and assign their responsibilities to the Army. That failed, Vandegrift added.8

Post World War II, the War Department reorganization into the Department of Defense nearly ended the Marine Corps. The 1947 reorganization created the United States Air Force from the Army Air Force. Leaders of the Army, Navy, and Air Force were named full members of the newly created Joint Chiefs of Staff (JCS). The Marines were not included. Gen Vandegrift battled to keep the Marine Corps a separate Service. On 6 May 1946, Vandegrift spoke before the Senate Naval Affairs Committee during a hearing on bill S. 2044 to place the responsibilities of the Marine Corps under the Army. Proponents of S. 2044 included President Harry S. Truman, War Department leaders, and Army Chief of Staff GEN Dwight D. Eisenhower. Vandegrift made his case to senators in what became known as the “bended knee” speech. Vandegrift spoke about the impact of S. 2044 on the Marine Corps. The general explained that the bill would “spell the extinction of the Marine Corps.” Vandegrift added, “For some time I have been aware that the very existence of the Marine Corps stood as a continued affront to the War Department general staff.” Pointing to the World War II victories in the Pacific, Vandegrift outlined the Marine Corps’ amphibious capabilities. Speaking from a historical point of view, Vandegrift explained the impact of the Marine Corps. The general said the Marine Corps forecasted a pattern of war with Japan in 1921. Vandegrift said:

In conjunction with the Navy, we provided the nation with a doctrine, technique, method, and equipment which became the standard pattern of amphibious warfare adopted not only by our own Army but by the armies and navies of eight United Nations as well. It proved to the key to victory in every major theater of the war.

With a backhand to the Army, Vandegrift described the Marines as a “skilled body of specialists” who received “world-wide professional prestige without benefit of West Point tradition or War Department direction.” Again, referencing the Pacific in World War II, Vandegrift explained the Marines are the nation’s “primary force of readiness.” He added that the operation at Guadalcanal could not have been launched by the Army, as that Service was not trained for an amphibious assault landing. Vandegrift explained the end of the Marine Corps would be offset by “the part-time assignment of Army troops for naval purposes.” He praised the Army’s ability to organize and prepare operations “with care and deliberation.” Vandegrift argued, those abilities did not “make up an effective mobile, amphibious force.” He added, “The Marines have always viewed the landing operations as a specialty—their specialty.” Continuing his case against the Army taking on amphibious operations, Vandegrift pointed to the Army’s Field Service Regulations. It had only eight of 1,084 paragraphs covering amphibious operations. In response to the War Department’s contention that Marines’ amphibious efforts “are an invasion of the Army’s sphere,” Vandegrift said, “The Army is not and never has been in the amphibious field.” The general also reminded the Senate Committee that Army troops who carried out amphibious landings used Marine Corps techniques, and in some cases were trained by Marines. Vandegrift concluded with an emotionally charged statement:

The bended knee is not a tradition of our Corps. If the Marine as a fighting man has not made a case for himself after 170 years of service, he must go. But, I think you will agree with me that he has earned the right to depart with dignity and honor, not by subjugation to the status of uselessness and servility planned for him asked by the War Department.9

Five days after Vandegrift’s Senate presentation, an Associated Press reporter asked GEN Eisenhower his take on Vandegrift’s statement. Eisenhower replied, “No one has paid more tribute to the Marines’ record,” than he (Eisenhower) did.10 Vandegrift’s speech paid off. Despite the War Department’s efforts, the Marine Corps stayed a separate Service. The Marines still did not have a position on the JCS.

With the unification of the Services finalized and the Marines still in business, the fight for the existence of the Corps continued. Alan Rems, writing in a June 2019 article for the magazine Naval History, described the post-World War II intra-Service efforts to minimize the role of the Marine Corps. For example, the Nation’s first Secretary of Defense, James V. Forrestal, held a meeting with the Service chiefs in Key West, FL, in March 1948. Forrestal did not include Gen Clifford B. Cates, Vandegrift’s successor. Truman wanted deeper defense cuts. Louis B. Johnson, Forrestal’s successor, advocated moving the Marines under the Army and placing Marine aviation with the Air Force. Legally, it was pointed out, Johnson could not do that. The battles among the Service chiefs led to hearings before the House Armed Services Committee in October 1949. The JCS Chairman, GEN Omar Bradley, told the committee that amphibious operations of the Navy and Marines would not be needed.11

While Vandegrift’s efforts helped keep the Marine Corps as a separate branch of the military, Pratt’s memo did not die due to retired Army GEN George Van Horn Moseley. Mosely served as GEN Douglas MacArthur’s Army’s vice chief of staff in the 1930s. In a 15 February 1949 letter to Eisenhower, Moseley mentioned Pratt’s memo. Moseley summarized the memo and added his view when he wrote:

The idea that Marines can be landed on the shores of a foreign nation without committing an international breach, is all baloney. It is perfectly absurd and entirely incongruous to maintain two armies. The continental existence of the Marine Corps adds greatly to duplication and expense. Why should the Marine Corps have a separate air force?

Moseley blamed the Marines’ Capitol Hill influence when he said, “This question would have been adjusted years ago.” Moseley took one more shot at the Marine Corps with this comment, “You (Eisenhower) accomplished all of your victories in Europe without a single Marine.” (Moseley’s comment was inaccurate, according the Royal Marines’ history that said, “While few in number and often forgotten, around 700 United States Marines were present on D Day either ashore [Omaha Beach] or as part of ships crews.” In addition, Marines served in London and Iceland. Other Marines were assigned to Navy ships.)12 Finally, Mosely mentioned he sent a copy of the “Pratt Memo” to former President Herbert Hoover, chairman of the Commission on the Organization of the Executive Branch. The former President thanked Moseley for his letter and expressed “appreciation for his views.”13

Letters between Van Horn Mossley and Eisenhower; Pratt Memos calling for amalgamation of Marine Corps with the Army. (Photos provided by author.)

On 19 February 1949, Eisenhower replied to Moseley. While not directly agreeing with Moseley’s view, Eisenhower offered insight into his feelings about the Marine Corps issue with this statement:

The whole trouble with this question of the Marines, the distortion with which it is treated when it is dragged out into the open. It becomes a subject to which is applied a great deal of emotionalism, prejudice and hysteria, but very little logic and good sense.14

Eisenhower’s 8 April 1950 answer to World War II Marine veteran Richard W. Courchaine took a different tone than his response to Moseley. Courchaine wrote Eisenhower in April about a Saturday Evening Post article, “The Marine Corps Fights for Its Life.” Courchaine said, “I was very surprised to find it (the article) that you were for it, such as regulating it (the Marine Corps) to a very small size.” Eisenhower replied that he had not read the Saturday Evening Post story. He said, “I have never in anyway advocated the abolishment of the Marine Corps. I tremendously admire the Marine Corps.”15

Before the Korean War, Secretary Johnson called for a reduction of the Corps to six battalions and six squadrons. The onset of the Korean War stopped Johnson’s plan.16 When the North Koreans crossed the 38th parallel into South Korea in June 1950, the Nation needed the Marine Corps. Cates offered Marine ground and air forces and obtained Truman’s authorization to activate Marine reserves.17

On 29 August 1950, California Republican Congressman Gordon L. McDonough wrote President Truman asking him to place the Commandant of the Marines on the JCS. McDonough stated, “The United States Marine Corps is entitled to full recognition as a major branch of the Armed Services of the U.S., and should have its representative on the Joint Chiefs of Staff in the Department of Defense.” President Truman angrily replied in a letter to Congressman McDonough. Truman said:

For your information, the Marine Corps is the navy’s police force and as long as I am President that is what it will remain. They have a propaganda machine that is about equal to Stalin.18

Marines in the field had a response to Truman’s propaganda comment. One example came from retired Marine Col Warren Wiedhan. Wiedhan, a private serving in Korea in 1950 before the Inchon Landing, said that Marines felt this way about Truman’s comment, “The Marine Corps propaganda machine is BETTER than Stalin’s.”19

On 6 September, nine days before the Inchon Landing in Korea, Truman issued a written apology and addressed the Marine Corps League’s national meeting in Washington, DC. Gen Cates told Marine Corps League members, “We in the Marine Corps appreciate courage, especially personal courage.” On the same day, Truman sent Cates a letter. Truman said, “I am profoundly aware of the magnificent history of the United States Marine Corps, and of the many heroic deeds of the Marines since the Corps was established in 1775. I personally learned of the splendid combat spirit of the Marines when the Fourth Marine Brigade of the Second Infantry Division fought in France in 1918.”20 While the president attacked the Marine Corps and then had to walk back his remarks, the Marines received high praise from a surprising source, GEN MacArthur, commander of the United Nations forces during the Korean War. MacArthur said this about the Marines in a statement confirmed by the MacArthur Memorial: “I have just returned from visiting the Marines at the front, and there is no finer fighting force in the world.”21

The Marine Corps hymn includes the words “We fight our country’s battles on air, on land, and sea.” Post-World War II Marines should have added five words to the hymn: in the halls of Congress. The battle to gain a seat on the JCS continued in the early 1950s. In 1951, two Marine veterans serving in Congress battled to add the Commandant to the JCS. Congressman Mike Mansfield, a Montana Democrat, and Illinois Democratic Senator Paul Douglas joined forces with the Marine Corps League. Mansfield served as a Marine Corps private in the early 1920s. Douglas enlisted in the Marine Corps at age 50, earned a commission, and served with the 1st MarDiv in the Pacific, earning the Bronze Star and receiving two Purple Heart Medals.

Mansfield supported the Douglas-Mansfield Bill H.R. 2034 (S. 677-the Senate version) in his 24 January 1951, House speech. Mansfield said his proposal “would in unequivocal terms establish an organizational structure for the Marine Corps that would not be subject to the whims of the appropriations.” The bill called for establishing four combat divisions and four tactical air wings with a cap on total Marines at 400,000. Mansfield said that the 400,000 limit “is in this bill to emphasize that fact that we are not trying to develop a second army.” Speaking about Marine tactical air, Mansfield listed three reasons to establish four air wings. First, Marine aviation “originated dive bombing.” Second, Marine aviation developed “close air tactical air support. Third, helicopter use “from a tactical standpoint came about from Marine aviation. Referring to the Korean War, Mansfield said, “If this force had been in readiness, ready to move at the outbreak of the Korean incident, the situation might have been drastically altered in our favor.” In addition, Mansfield called for making the Commandant of the Marine Corps a permanent member of the JCS. While acknowledging that the Senate’s version of the bill had been amended to make the Commandant a JCS consultant “on all matters pertaining to the Marine Corps,” Mansfield argued for the House version. He posed this question, “Would not the commandant of the Marine Corps, a man thoroughly trained in ground, sea, and air war, fit into this group as a catalyst?” Mansfield added, “The commandant of the Marine Corps would add great experience and scope to these councils.”22

While Mansfield’s proposal had Congressional support, the JCS opposed adding the Commandant of the Marine Corps as a permanent JCS member. On 12 April 1951, Secretary of Defense George C. Marshall sent a letter to the Committee on Armed Services, Senate Chairman Senator Richard B. Russell, a Georgia Democrat. Marshall said the JCS unanimously opposed the proposal as “unnecessary, undesirable, and impracticable.” Secretary Marshall added that he concurred with the JCS. Marshall also explained,

In addition to the fact that full consideration is now given to the views of the commandant of the Marine Corps, the combat element of the Marine Corps are part of the operating force of the Navy and the headquarters of the Marine Corps is not staffed to consider all of the problems confront the Joint Chiefs of Staff.23

Also on 12 April 1951, Senator Douglas mentioned the letter he sent to his colleagues advocating adding the Commandant of the Marine Corps as a permanent JCS member. Douglas told fellow Senators that adding the Commandant “will place two voices trained in naval and amphibious matters in an organization which is now dominated by services that have little knowledge or interest in the problems of naval warfare.” Douglas highlighted the success of the Marines in the Korean War.24 Douglas pointed to the overwhelming Army influence within the JCS from Chairman, Army GEN Omar Bradley, and Army Chief of Staff GEN Joseph L. Collins. Air Force Chief of Staff Gen Hoyt Vandenberg graduated from West Point.25 Mansfield’s bill wound its way through the legislative sausage grinder. Truman signed the final bill, Public Law 416, on 28 June 1952. The law called for no less than three combat divisions and three air wings in the Marine Corps. Regarding the status of the Commandant of the Marine Corps, the amended Senate version won out. The Commandant “shall indicate to the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff any matter scheduled for consideration by the Joint Chiefs of Staff which directly concerns the United States Marine Corps.”26 For the Marine Corps, the new law was a step forward. The Marines remained a separate branch of the military and did get a larger force. The successes of Marines at Inchon, Seoul, and the Chosin Reservoir, along with World War II victories in the Pacific, earned the Marine Corps its new status. In addition, political winds were at the backs of the Marine Corps. Politically speaking, 800 Marine Corps League detachments worked with Douglas and Mansfield, demonstrating Marine influence with Congress. For Truman, then in his final months as a lame duck president, it was quite a change from his 1950 attitude about the Marine Corps. In the end, Truman’s intemperate remarks about the Marine Corps in 1950 likely helped the cause of the Marine Corps more than they hurt. 1952 was an election year and opposing the Douglas-Mansfield bill was not politically helpful.

In 1958, a new challenge to the existence of the Marine Corps arose. President Eisenhower and Secretary of Defense Neil H. McElroy, the former president of consumer-packaged goods giant Procter and Gamble, called for streamlining the DOD and boosting research efforts. One aspect of the change concerned the Marine Corps. That provision would allow McElroy to order the abolishment or transfer of combat functions. Gen Randolph M. Pate, Commandant of the Marine Corps, blasted the proposal when he said that an official could “rationalize the Marine Corps out of a job.”27 Pate, a veteran of World War II battles on Guadalcanal, Iwo Jima, and Okinawa, faced a bureaucratic war. House Armed Services Chairman Congressman Carl Vinson argued against giving the defense secretary that power. Vinson’s 51-year career in Congress included 14 years leading the Armed Services Committee. Pushing back against Eisenhower’s reorganization plan, Vinson changed the proposal to allow Services to appeal decisions to Congress. Vinson’s bill included this provision,

However, except as otherwise provided in this subsection, no functions which have been or are hereafter established by law to be performed by the Department of Defense, or any officer or agency thereof, shall be substantially transferred, reassigned, abolished, or consolidated until thirty days after a report to the Congress in regard to all pertinent details in each instance shall have been made by the Secretary of Defense.28

Getting A Permanent Seat at the JCS Table
When World War II Medal of Honor recipient Gen Louis (“Lou”) H. Wilson became the 26th Commandant of the Marine Corps in 1975, he called for Marines to be a full member of the JCS. To avoid giving the impression he wanted that for himself, Wilson waited until late in his term. “I was doing it for the Corps and my successors,” said Wilson. Wilson’s idea called for him to reach out to fellow Mississippian Senator John Stennis, chairman of the Senate Armed Services Committee, and a few friends in the House of Representatives. Gen Wilson’s objective was legislation making the Commandant of the Marine Corps a full member of the JCS. An action in May 1978 spurred Wilson to move forward earlier than planned. When a JCS meeting was about to take place with the chairman unavailable, the Army’s vice chief of staff was named acting chairman. Wilson, who outranked that general, was upset and wanted to know why he could not chair the meeting. The answer: no one who is not a member of the JCS could be acting chairman. Wilson said that was the “catalyst” that he needed. “I determined to pursue it (full member of the JCS) vigorously,” Wilson added.29

To start, Wilson contacted the House Armed Services Committee ranking minority leader, California Republican Congressman Bob Wilson. The congressman, no relation to the Commandant, offered this guidance. Congressman Wilson said the authorization bill to fund the DOD had passed the House of Representatives. The congressman suggested getting the Senate to add the clause making the Commandant of the Marine Corps a full member of the JCS. Congressman Wilson said he could get that provision passed in the House. Gen Wilson worked closely with his legislative aide, BGen Albert E. (Al) Brewster. In 2023, Frisco Lakes Lifestyle wrote a cover story about Gen Brewster, who recalled his role in getting the legislation passed.

General Wilson’s assignment to Al was to implement a change to make the commandant an equal full-time member of the JCS. Leveraging an existing relationship between General Wilson and Senator Stennis that dated back to World War II, Al requested a meeting with the Senator and Frank Sullivan, SASC staff director. That meeting with Stennis set the effort underway. As a result, Stennis instructed Sullivan to draft the changes.30

After Brewster’s meeting, Wilson contacted Oklahoma Republican Senator Dewey Bartlett to introduce the measure. Bartlett, a World War II Marine pilot in the South Pacific, was, according to Gen Wilson, “delighted to comply.” Bartlett won the support of Georgia Democratic Senator Sam Nunn, who agreed to co-sponsor the provision.31 On the House Armed Services Committee side, New York Democrat Sam Stratton, a World War II veteran and a retired Navy reserve captain, supported the provision. Stennis said he asked Bartlett to speak on behalf of Gen Wilson’s idea. One hitch developed when Gen Wilson realized Stennis appeared to have forgotten about their discussion. Wilson questioned the senator. Gen Wilson told Stennis that “this means very much to me and I would deeply appreciate it if you would do it, and I will be very disappointed if you do not do this.” Stennis said that he would “see about it.” In fact, Stennis did more than see about it when he made this statement on the Senate floor:

I recognize that it may not be germane, but nevertheless this the time to make the commandant a full member. The Marine Corps has not had the opportunity in the past to express themselves and I think this bill should be passed tonight.”32

Bartlett’s remarks supporting the Marine Corps cited recent JCS history when he said, “In the past two years, the commandant of the Marine Corps has participated in every decision made by the Joint Chiefs, and his participation in recent years has averaged over 99%.” Bartlett said the amendment “would simply remove an archaic legal distinction.” According to Bartlett, the Marines were the only Service with air, sea, and ground combat forces. Bartlett added that the Marine Corps Commandant understands soldiers, sailors, and airmen.33

Wilson did not discuss his proposal with anyone in the DOD except Navy Secretary William G. Claytor, Jr., something he did in confidence. After the amendment passed the Senate, Wilson heard from the JCS chairman, Air Force General David Jones. Jones was unhappy that the amendment had not been discussed with him. Wilson told Jones he could call Stennis and express his opposition. Jones told Wilson, “Why, you know I can’t do that. But you used your influence with Senator Stennis to get this through.” Wilson sensed that the Army also did not agree with the amendment. However, ADM Tom Hayward, chief of national operations, supported the effort, according to Wilson.34

This was the second time Wilson tapped into his relationship with Stennis to equalize the Marine Corps with the other Services. Until 1975, the Assistant Commandant of the Marine Corps held the rank of lieutenant general. The second-in-command of the other Services held the four-star rank. Both Stennis and Congressman Wilson supported that effort. During Wilson’s first year as Commandant in 1975, LtGen Sam Jaskilka became the Assistant Commandant and received a fourth star.

After the bill passed the Senate, media interest followed. Columnist Robert D. Heinl, Jr., a retired Marine colonel, praised Bartlett’s speech in support of making the Commandant of the Marine Corps a full JCS member when Heinl wrote Bartlett’s speech “represents a final act of loyalty to his old Corps.” Heinl added, “Don’t be surprised, one of these days when some future Marine becomes the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.”35 Ted Bell, a reporter for the Sacramento Bee, asked Gen Wilson about an opposition argument to the amendment offered by the Air Force and Army that meant the Navy would get two JCS votes. Wilson replied, “I don’t recognize that the Marine Corps is not a separate service.”36

The bill went back to the House of Representatives, then to the conference committee, and finally passed both the House and Senate. President Carter vetoed the bill due to the authorization of a nuclear carrier that Carter opposed. Wilson thought that the next bill might give opponents a chance to “dissect the bill.” That did not happen. The amendment remained in the revised bill. On 20 October 1978, President Carter signed the bill with the amendment so important to the Marine Corps. Responding to a question about the Carter administration’s role with that amendment, Gen Brewster said, “They were not involved in any way in the change.”37 Wilson served as a full JCS member until his retirement in 1979.

After the bill was signed into law, the Army found another law that might have kept a Marine off the JCS. That law pointed out that the senior members of the armed forces included only the chiefs of staff of the Army, the Air Force, and the Chief of Naval Operations. The Commandant of the Marine Corps was not listed and therefore could not be the chairman. Wilson asked for a ruling from Secretary of Defense Harold Brown regarding that issue. The Commandant threatened to go to Congress to get that resolved. Secretary Brown ruled in favor of the Marine Corps position. Finally, the Commandant was ruled a full-fledged JCS member.38 Wilson’s Washington success eventually paid short and long-term dividends to the Marine Corps.39 In April 1979, President Jimmy Carter nominated Gen Robert H. Barrow to serve as Commandant of the Marine Corps and the first Marine to serve on the JCS for four years. Two months before Wilson died in 2005, President George W. Bush nominated Gen Peter Pace to become the first Marine to serve as chairman of the JCS. From 2001–2005, Pace held the post of vice-chairman of the JCS. Pace was also the first Marine to serve in that role. President Bush also named Gen James L. Jones to serve as United States European Command and Supreme Allied Commander Europe. As of 2025, Gen Jones is the lone Marine to hold that position. By 1981, veterans of the Army, Navy, and Air Force served as president of the United States.40 No Marine was ever elected president or vice president until the 250th year of the Marine Corps, when Ohio Republican Senator JD Vance became the first Marine to serve as vice president.

>Mr. Mesches is the author of The Flying Grunt, the Story of Lieutenant General Richard E. Carey, United States Marine Corps, (Ret) and Major General James A. Ulio, How the Adjutant General of the U.S. Army Enabled Allied Victory. An Air Force veteran, he served as a Public Information Officer with the 4th Tactical Fighter Wing, Seymour Johnson Air Force Base, NC, between 1972 and 1975. He is a graduate of Grove City College and the Defense Information Officers School (now Public Affairs Qualification Course).

Notes

1. R.D. Heinl, “The Cat with More Than Nine Lives,” Proceedings 80, No. 6, (1954), https://www.usni.org/magazines/proceedings/1954/june/cat-more-nine-lives.

2. Ibid.

3. Rhapsodyinbooks, “July 25, 1866–Ulysses S. Grant Becomes the First Four-Star General in U.S. History,” Legal Legecy, July 25, 2017, https://legallegacy.wordpress.com/2017/07/25/july-25-1866-ulysses-s-grant-becomes-the-first-four-star-general-in-u-s-history; and Staff, “David Glasgow Farragut,” Naval History and Heritage Command, n.d., https://www.history.navy.mil/browse-by-topic/people/historical-figures/david-glasgow-farragut.html.

4. “The Cat with More Than Nine Lives.”

5. Staff, “President Taft Restores Marines on Board Ships,” Sacramento Daily Union, March 27, 1909.

6. Glenn M. Harned, Marine Corps Generals 1899–1936 (North Charleston: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, 2024).

7. Moseley Correspondence, DDEPre-l File Box 84, Moseley File.pdf, from the Eisenhower Presidential Library.

8. Staff, “The Marine Corps, An Essential, Integral Element of the Naval Service,’ Statement to the House Select Committee on Postwar Policy,” published in The Marine Corps Gazette 78, No. 6 (1994).

9. Alexander A. Vandegrift, “Bended Knee Speech,” (speech, Washington, DC, May 6, 1946).

10. Associated Press, “‘Ike See U.S. Pacific bases hinging on UN,” The Atlanta Journal, May 11, 1946.

11. Alan Rems, “A Propaganda Machine Like Stalin’s,” U.S. Naval Institute, June 2019, https://www.usni.org/magazines/naval-history-magazine/2019/june/propaganda-machine-stalins.

12. Si Biggs, “The USMC on D Day,” Royal Marines History, June 4, 2024, https://www.royalmarineshistory.com/post/usmc-on-d-day.

13. Moseley Correspondence, 31-hhpp-ic-b156-1 partial, pdf, Hoover Presidential Library.

14. Moseley Correspondence, DDEPre-l File Box 84, Moseley File.pdf, from the Eisenhower Presidential Library.

15. Courchaine Correspondence, DDEPre-File Box 19, Coury-Courtn. (Misc.) File. Pdf, Eisenhower Presidential Library.

16. Nathan Parker, “Congress and the Marine, an Enduring Partnership,” MCU Journal 8, No. 2 (2017).

17. “A Propaganda Machine Like Stalin’s.”

18. Staff, “Letters to the Commandant of the Marine Corps League and to the Commandant of the Marine Corps,” Harry S. Truman Library Museum, September 6, 1950, https://www.trumanlibrary.gov/library/public-papers/235/letters-commandant-marine-corps-league-and-commandant-marine-corps.

19. Email between author and Col Warren Wiedhan on August 17, 2024.

20. “Letters to the Commandant of the Marine Corps League and to the Commandant of the Marine Corps.”

21. Email between author and James Zobel, MacArthur Memorial, on March 5, 2025.

22. Statement of the Honorable Mike Mansfield,” Series 1, Box 11, Folder 3, Mike Mansfield Papers, Archives and Special Collections, Mansfield Library, University of Montana.

23. Marine Corps Personnel Strength Act of 1952: Hearings on S. 677, Days 1, 2, 3, Before the Subcomm. On Armed Services , 82nd Cong. (1951).

24. Ibid.

25. Ibid.

26. Marine Corps Personnel Strength Act of 1952, Pub. L. 461, 61 Stat. 502 (1952).

27. John Jarrell, “Ike To Get Less Than He Wants,” Omaha World Telegram, May 4, 1958.

28. Department of Defense Reorganization Act of 1958, H.R. 12541, 85th Cong. (1958).

29. Oral History Transcript, General Louis H. Wilson, United States Marine Corps (Ret), History Division, United States Marine Corps, Quantico, VA, 2008.

30. S. Sanderson and M. Yordy, “The Sky is Not the Limit for this Marine,” Frisco Lakes Lifestyle, July 2023.

31. Senator Sam Nunn was the great nephew of Representative Carl Vinson, long-time chairman of the House Armed Services Committee.

32. Oral History Transcript, General Louis H. Wilson, United States Marine Corps (Ret), History Division, United States Marine Corps, Quantico, VA, 2008.

33. Speeches, Defense, 1978, Dewey F. Bartlett Collection, CAC_CC_003_4_46_7_0000, Carl Albert Center Congressional and Political Collections, https://arc.ou.edu/repositories/3/archival_objects/5499.

34. Oral History Transcript, General Louis H. Wilson, United States Marine Corps (Ret), by Brigadier General Edwin Simmons, 1975, 1976, 1977, and 1978. History Division, United States Marine Corps, Quantico, VA. Accessed January 19, 2025.

35. Col Robert D. Heinl, Jr., “Marines March to the Top,” The Arizona Republic, August 11, 1978.

36. Ted Bell “Top Marine Pushes Attack Capability,” by The Sacramento Bee, August 1, 1978.

37. Email from Brigadier General Albert E. Brewster to the author, December 13, 2023.

38. Oral History Transcript, General Louis H. Wilson, United States Marine Corps (Ret), by Brigadier General Edwin Simmons, 1975, 1976, 1977, and 1978. History Division, United States Marine Corps, Quantico, VA. Accessed January 19, 2025.

39. Oral History Transcript, General Louis H. Wilson, United States Marine Corps (Ret), by Brigadier General Edwin Simmons, 1975, 1976, 1977, and 1978. History Division, United States Marine Corps, Quantico, VA. Accessed January 19, 2025.

40. Presidents by Service: Army—Presidents George Washington, Andrew Jackson, William Henry Harrison, John Tyler, Zachary Taylor, Andrew Johnson, Ulysses S. Grant, Rutherford B. Hayes, Benjamin Harrison, William McKinley,Theodore Roosevelt, Harry S. Truman, Dwight D. Eisenhower. Navy—Presidents John F. Kennedy, Lyndon B. Johnson, Richard M. Nixon, Gerald R. Ford, Jimmy Carter, and George H.W. Bush. Air Force—Ronald W. Reagan served in the Army Air Force, and George W. Bush served in the Air National Guard. These presidents served state militias: Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, James K. Polk, Millard Fillmore, James Buchanan, Abraham Lincoln, and Chester A. Arthur. Vice Presidents who served in the military and did not become president: Aaron Burr (Army), George Clinton (militia), Richard M. Johnson (militia), Henry Wilson (Army), Charles G. Dawes (Army), Spiro T. Agnew (Army), Walter Mondale (Army), Dan Quayle (National Guard), Al Gore (Army-only president or vice president to serve in Vietnam).

The Floating Forward Operating Base MEU

A blueprint for the Marine Corps of 2035

Executive Summary
The MEU of 2035 must evolve to remain relevant in the face of precision-strike threats, ubiquitous surveillance, and rapid technological change. This essay proposes the Floating Forward Operating Base MEU (F-FOB MEU), a modular, distributed, and adaptive force dispersed across a swarm of manned, unmanned, and hybrid platforms. The F-FOB MEU is survivable by dispersal, lethal by integration, and persistent by design. Leveraging autonomy, commercial innovation, and resilient command, the F-FOB MEU positions the Marine Corps for dominance in the contested maritime battlespace of 2035 and beyond.

Introduction
Since the end of the Cold War, the MEU embarked on a three-ship Amphibious Ready Group (ARG) has served as America’s forward-deployed, fast-response, flexible tool for power projection and crisis management. The Marine Corps’ adaptability, combined-arms prowess, and ability to kick down the door anywhere on earth have made it a global standard for expeditionary warfare.

Yet, as the United States faces new threats, peer competition, rapid technological change, and battlespaces saturated by unmanned systems and precision weapons, the traditional ARG/MEU may soon become too vulnerable, too predictable, and too limited to dominate future conflict. The 2035 security environment will demand a radical new approach: one that distributes risk, leverages autonomy, and exploits both commercial and military innovation.

This article presents a bold proposal: the FFOB MEU. This concept disperses Marine combat power, logistics, and command across a floating archipelago of manned, unmanned, and hybrid platforms. Persistent, unpredictable, and modular, the FFOB MEU is not merely an update of the old playbook but a blueprint for Marine relevance and dominance in the next era of maritime warfare.

The Imperative for Change
The Threat Environment of 2035
By 2035, America’s adversaries will have weaponized transparency and precision at sea. China, Russia, and even technologically advanced regional actors will field vast networks of satellites, over-the-horizon radars, persistent ISR drones, and long-range precision missiles. Massed anti-ship cruise and ballistic missiles, cybertools, and sophisticated electronic warfare will make any large, slow, and predictable naval force a target.

Peer competitors will pursue a strategy of high-end denial, making littoral and even blue water zones lethal to U.S. ships and aircraft. The old ARG model, with a big-deck amphibian LPD (Landing Platform, Deck), and a third connector vessel sailing in formation, will likely struggle to survive or operate with freedom of maneuver.

The Technology Revolution
Conversely, rapid advances in autonomy, artificial intelligence (AI), additive manufacturing (3D/4D printing), and commercial shipping are offering new tools for military adaptation. Swarms of unmanned vehicles, on, above, and below the water, can now deliver intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance (ISR), strike, deception,andlogistics. Commercial off-the-shelf (COTS) container ships and barges can be quickly converted into launch platforms, sensor nodes, or floating depots. Secure cloud networking and edge computing are making distributed command and control (C2) a reality.

The Marine Corps of 2035 must harness these tools, dispersing risk and reaping the benefits of autonomy, modularity, and resilience. The F-FOB MEU is the way forward.

The F-FOB MEU: Core Concept
Imagine a MEU not as three tightly grouped warships but as a distributed, adaptive floating archipelago spanning hundreds of miles at sea. This network is composed of a mix of manned, optionally-manned, and unmanned platforms, large unmanned surface vessels (LUSVs), Expeditionary Fast Transports, converted container ships, autonomous barges, and submersibles, each carrying a tailored package of Marines, sensors, weapons, and supplies.

The F-FOB MEU can rapidly regroup, disperse, or reconfigure, denying adversaries the ability to find and fix the force. It becomes a persistent, unpredictable presence, a living system that is survivable by distribution, lethal by integration, and sustainable by design.

How the F-FOB MEU Works
The Platform Swarm

The back bone of the F-FOB MEU is its swarm of platforms:

Manned Nodes: A small number of warships and manned transports act as command hubs, C2 nodes, and staging areas for Marines and specialized equipment.
Unmanned Surface/Subsurface Vessels: LUSVs and unmanned underwater vehicles act as mobile launchers for missiles, decoys, ISR drones, and logistics containers.
Commercial Conversions: COTS cargo ships and tankers can be quickly fitted with modular containers for medical, engineering, supply, or fires roles.
Autonomous Barges/Submersibles: These pop up for resupply, then vanish below the surface or scatter to reduce vulnerability.

Each platform carries modular payload pods, missiles, loitering munitions, sensors, small unmanned aerial vehicles, or even additive manufacturing printers for on-demand parts.

Distributed Prepositioning and Pop-Up Basing
Rather than relying on vulnerable supply convoys, the F-FOB MEU prepositions critical supplies, munitions, and equipment across the platform swarm and in autonomous underwater or afloat storage modules. Marines can establish expeditionary advanced bases (EABs) ashore or afloat at the point of need, supplied by unmanned connectors and tiltrotor aircraft. When necessary, these EABs can relocate in hours, keeping the enemy off-balance.

Persistent ISR and Fires
Hundreds of expendables, networked drones, surface, subsurface, and aerial, provide continuous ISR, jamming, deception, and kinetic/non-kinetic fires. Marines access a digital fires grid, allowing them to cue effects from any platform across the archipelago. This persistent ISR/fires mesh creates a cloud of awareness and influence over the battlespace.

Distributed, Virtualized Command Element
The F-FOB MEU C2 is inherently distributed. The command element is split among afloat, ashore, and cloud-based nodes, each linked by quantum-secure, multi-redundant comms. Key functions, fires, logistics, and information operations can be provided by reach-back from CONUS or secure allied locations. This approach minimizes risk to senior leaders and ensures continuity of operations even if nodes are disrupted.

Civil-Military and Partner Integration
Because much of the F-FOB MEU relies on modular, commercial platforms, the force can scale up or down rapidly for humanitarian relief, embassy security, partner training, or major combat operations. Civilian-military hybrid ships, containerized hospitals, and modular engineering pods make the force truly versatile.

Operational Advantages
Resilience by Distribution
The F-FOB MEU has no golden goose. Losing a single node or even a handful of platforms is a tactical setback, not a strategic defeat. The distributed mesh is inherently robust; if one node is hit, others adapt, reposition, or take over its function.

Unpredictability and Adaptability
A constantly moving, modular archipelago confounds enemy targeting and tracking. The F-FOB MEU can have mass effects at a chosen point, disperse when under threat, or reposition to exploit gaps. Pop-up EABs, autonomous logistics nodes, and unmanned decoys further complicate the adversary’s decision making.

Lethality by Integration
By blending manned and unmanned assets, Marines can mass fires, ISR, and EW from any direction, overwhelming enemy defenses and enabling first-mover advantage. The ability to launch synchronized, multi-domain attacks, including kinetic, electronic, and informational, from a distributed force, is a game-changer.

Endurance and Sustainability
With additive manufacturing, distributed prepositioning, and autonomous resupply, the F-FOB MEU can operate for weeks or months in contested areas without major traditional supply lines. Persistent ISR and virtualized C2 further enable continuous around-the-clock operations.

Mission Essential Tasks for the F-FOB MEU
To meet the future, the F-FOB MEU must be proficient in:

All-Domain Distributed Operations: Coordinating, fighting, and sustaining in the maritime, littoral, air, space, and cyber domains.
Dynamic Expeditionary Basing: Rapidly establishing, relocating, and defending temporary bases afloat or ashore.
Persistent ISR and Precision Fires: Maintaining an integrated grid of sensors and shooters, leveraging AI for speed and mass.
Rapid Crisis Response: Agilely deploying for humanitarian, partner, embassy, or major combat operations at global speed.
Civil-Military Operations: Integrating with civilian, allied, and partner assets for logistics, sustainment, and influence.
Resilient C2 and Information Operations: Surviving, adapting, and fighting in the information domain, as well as the physical.

Risks, Mitigation, and Implementation
Risks

C2 Complexity: Managing distributed operations requires new comms tech, robust battle management AI, and flexible leaders.
Technology Vulnerability: Over-reliance on autonomy and networks must be balanced by hybrid manned-unmanned control and backup systems.
Logistics Disruption: Autonomous resupply and pop-up storage must be hardened against cyber, kinetic, and electronic attack.
Cultural Resistance: The F-FOB MEU demands new doctrine, training, and mindsets, embracing experimentation, failure, and innovation.

Mitigation

Redundant Mesh Networking: Quantum-secure, AI-managed comms keep C2 alive even under attack.
Hybrid Manning and Cross-Training: Manned nodes oversee critical functions; Marines train in unmanned ops, rapid adaptation, and cloud C2.
Incremental Fielding: Pilot units test and refine F-FOB MEU tactics, techniques, and procedures alongside legacy ARGs.
Wargaming and Exercises: Aggressively red-team and challenge the concept against peer threats, evolving the model continuously.

Implementation Path

Experimental Unit: Stand up a MEU detachment blending Navy, Marines, industry, and academic partners to prototype the F-FOB approach.
Leverage Commercial Innovation: Tap the private sector for COTS platforms, modular payloads, and cloud-based C2.
Rapid Iteration: Use lessons learned to scale the model, transitioning from pilot to fleet-wide adoption over a decade.

The Vision Realized
In 2035, the F-FOB MEU is not a fantasy, but a logical extension of current Marine innovation:

Unmanned systems and autonomous logistics are rapidly maturing.
Navy unmanned surface/subsurface vessels are being fielded now.
Expeditionary Advanced Base Operations, stand-in forces, and resilient distributed ops are part of the Corps’ emerging doctrine.
Additive manufacturing and containerized payloads are no longer science fiction.

A crisis erupts in the Indo-Pacific. The F-FOB MEU deploys as a living archipelago, hundreds of miles wide. ISR drones saturate the battlespace. Pop-up EABs enable Marines to surge at critical points, then melt away. Autonomous logistics keeps the force supplied. The enemy—overwhelmed by false signatures, networked fires, and unpredictable movement—is forced to react to the MEU’s tempo.

This is not just a new way of fighting, but a new way of thinking, one that marries Marine adaptability with the logic of networks, autonomy, and resilience.

Conclusion
The threats and opportunities of 2035 demand that the Marine Corps move beyond the classic three-ship ARG. The F-FOB MEU is a bold, feasible, and future-proof solution, maximizing survivability, adaptability, and lethality in the most contested maritime regions.

By embracing distributed, modular, and autonomous platforms, leveraging commercial technology, and fostering a culture of relentless innovation, the Marine Corps will remain America’s crisis response force; relevant, ready, and dominant, no matter how the world changes.

The F-FOB MEU is more than a concept. It is the next chapter in the storied legacy of the United States Marines.

>LtCol Papay was the Commanding Officer of VMFA(AW)-533, an F/A-18D Hornet squadron stationed at MCAS Beaufort, SC. His career as a Marine Aviator spanned almost 22 years, logging 198 combat missions and over 5,000 flight hours in the F-4 Phantom and F/A-18 Hornet.

A Message from the Commandant of the Marine Corps

A Message from the Commandant of the Marine Corps

10 November 2025

Two hundred and fifty years ago, before our Nation declared its independence, a small group of men gathered in Philadelphia and formed a Corps of Marines. From that moment, our story has been bound to the story of America itself. A quarter of a millennium later, Marines remain at the center of our Nation’s defense. Ready to fight, ready to win, and ready to uphold the trust placed in us since 1775.

Across centuries, Marines have fought on distant shores and in desperate battles, earning a reputation for discipline, toughness, and valor. From the Revolution to the World Wars, from Chapultepec to today’s operations across the globe, every generation has proven worthy of the title Marine. They secured liberty, defended allies, and carried forward the promise of a free Nation, and a free world. We are the heirs of that legacy, and we are its stewards.

This anniversary reminds us that our standards are the foundation of our Corps. Honor, Courage, and Commitment are not abstractions, but the code that binds us to one another and to all who went before. Every Marine, in every clime and place, must hold true to these values. The conflicts ahead will demand nothing less.

I could not be prouder of the Marines I see serving today. At home, at sea, and across the globe, you carry forward our proud traditions with skill and ferocity. It is your discipline, initiative, and fighting spirit that anchor our Corps. The battles of the next 250 years will challenge us in new ways, but I have no doubt we will prevail. Happy Birthday, Marines!

Semper Fidelis,

Eric M. Smith
General, U.S. Marine Corps
Commandant of the Marine Corps

Forward, Flexible, Formidable, and Relevant

Today’s Amphibious Ready Group/Marine Expeditionary Unit

Since its inception, the MEU has embarked on an Amphibious Ready Group (ARG) and continues to serve as the preeminent example of the contribution of the Navy-Marine Corps Team to national security. An inherently versatile, agile, and persistent formation, the ARG/MEU is the most responsive and flexible expeditionary power projection option the Navy and Marine Corps can provide the Joint Force. As the Nation’s premier forward-deployed crisis response force, ARG/MEUs provide scalable and rapidly responsive modern combat power in competition, crisis, and contingency, all from sovereign, afloat U.S. territory. As great-power competition, rapid technological change, and instability in the global littorals threaten U.S. interests at home and abroad, the ARG/MEU offers the right tool for the Joint Force during highly complex and dangerous times, following in the footsteps of its highly successful predecessors and bridging to future emerging capabilities as the character of war rapidly changes. This article explains how the current ARG/MEU contributes to homeland defense, deters Chinese coercion, and enables effective burden-sharing among our allies and partners.

The Strategic Environment
Today’s strategic environment poses multiple threats and demands a correspondingly diverse range of solutions for national leaders. Most acutely and for the foreseeable future, China presents a pervasive danger. The Chinese Communist Party’s military modernization, coercive behavior in Southeast Asia, and expansion of overseas military infrastructure threaten U.S., ally, and partner security and prosperity throughout the Indo-Pacific region. China also presents an increasingly global threat. Xi Jinping’s Belt and Road Initiative has laid the framework for China to project force not just throughout Asia but across the sea to Africa, the Middle East, and Europe. Such efforts are designed to challenge U.S. interests globally and at multiple levels. For example, China’s vast illegal fishing vessels operate throughout the Indo-Pacific and as far as South America and Africa, including recently engaging in violent confrontation with the Argentinian military. These gray-zone activities are used to influence and control vulnerable nations through coercion and demand a U.S. presence to counter.

As the United States addresses the Chinese Communist Party’s military ambitions, it cannot ignore other threats to U.S. security. Russia’s continued pursuit of its war of aggression in Ukraine underscores its willingness to recklessly undermine European security, including ignoring international borders and indiscriminately attacking civilians. North Korea remains a persistent threat to allies, partners, and the U.S. homeland. In the Middle East, Iranian support of terrorist organizations and proxy groups endangers freedom of commerce in global maritime chokepoints as well as the safety of our citizens and those of our allies and partners. Meanwhile, terrorist groups—some with the capability and intent to attack the United States—destabilize key terrain in multiple regions.

The proliferation of advanced weapons systems further complicates these regional threats, lowering the bar for entry into modern lethality. Long-range precision weapons, including unmanned systems, expose easily identifiable landbased facilities to new and frequently asymmetric dangers. Cyber and open-source data collection make it increasingly difficult to conceal forces or strike with impunity.

Agile, Responsive, and Modern
The MAGTF construct, with the organic maritime mobility and sustainment offered by amphibious warfare ships, and the increased lethality provided to our Marines by Force Design, meaningfully meets the demands of our challenging operating environment. Optimized for rapid operational maneuver, versatile employment, and self-sustainment, ARG/MEUs offer a balanced and scalable combined-arms formation that can easily integrate with or support other joint formations.

The Marine Corps has a Title 10 responsibility to man, train, and equip its forces to fulfill the requirements of combatant commanders. Consistent among these requirements has been the demand signal for continuous ARG/MEU presence. A 3.0 ARG/MEU—
defined as heel-to-toe deployments from the East and West Coast and regular patrols by forward-deployed Naval forces in Japan—is the first step toward meeting the combatant commanders registered, Joint Staff-validated requirements for a 5.0 presence.

The three-ship ARG provides the optimal structure for the full MEU mission set needed to meet these demands. Embarked on a three-ship ARG, a MEU is a self-sustaining MAGTF that provides the Joint Force with a formation that can conduct unilateral operations across the full range of military operations. Able to move rapidly to and loiter near theater hot spots, these inherently multi-domain formations offer national leadership a full array of sovereign options, including expeditionary strike, sea denial, seizure of advanced naval bases, raids, embassy reinforcement, and non-combatant evacuations. Unlike landbased or rapid-response formations reliant on strategic air mobility, an ARG/MEU operates with reduced requirements for logistical support and access, basing, and overflight.

The ARG/MEUs can also serve as a force multiplier or provide additional capacity for missions that have, in recent years, been tasked to special operations forces (SOF), including strikes, raids, and non-combatant evacuation. The ARG/MEUs possess the capability to handle conventional crisis response tasks, reducing the burden on SOF. Additionally, the ARG/MEU employs unique capabilities to enhance SOF operations, including long-range sensing and strike, all from an over-the-horizon platform not reliant on access, basing, and overflight.

Today’s ARG/MEUs benefit from recent modernization, deploying to the joint and combined battlefield with multi-domain sensing and reconnaissance, fifth-generation aircraft, long-range precision fires, and a range of unmanned and counter-unmanned systems. They enable Joint Force operations through advanced command and control and embedded intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance, and can conduct strikes into contested environments. A force always on patrol, they are experts at enabling the advanced joint systems and those of our most capable U.S. allies and partners, including nations in NATO, Australia, and East Asia. Such interoperability aligns with current strategic guidance stressing burden-sharing with allies and partners, a framework in which the United States will commit only critical but limited resources to lower-priority regions.

Most importantly, ARG/MEUs serve as the leading edge of larger MAGTFs. They can reach back to the growing lethality of their parent MEFs or laterally within the MAGTF to the unique capabilities of the Marine Littoral Regiments. So, although ARG/MEUs operate forward, they leverage the full weight of the MEFs as a crisis builds toward conflict. This combination takes a modern and aggressive approach to winning in the littorals. Linking its ship-to-shore capabilities, long-range sensing and fires, and organic aviation with other weapons and sensors designed for denial, the ARG/MEU can impose dilemmas on adversaries seeking to set the theater against the Joint Force or dominate the maritime commons and increase the resolve of allies and partners that can share regional security burdens. The ARG/MEU could enable Joint Force operations against lower-tier threats or steal a march on a peer threat escalating toward conflict and set the theater for larger, more strategic lift-dependent, decisive operations. In economic warfare, this could include controlling key maritime chokepoints, holding at risk adversary forces, and commerce. Overall, only the ARG/MEU can offer the Joint Force this same degree of mobility, sustainment, and range of capabilities.

The ARG/MEU in Action
In recent years, the ARG/MEU has demonstrated the relevance of its inherent advantages and new capabilities, most prominently in the Indo-Pacific. From the 31st MEU’s amphibious operations in the Solomon Islands to the 15th MEU’s use of the Amphibious Combat Vehicle and cooperation with the Australian Army, to the 13th MEU’s integration of sensing from expeditionary advanced bases in the Philippines, the MEU has implemented the logic of Force Design using existing platforms and capabilities. The 13th MEU also projected sensing expeditionary advanced bases on four occasions, demonstrating an enhanced MEU mission, born from Force Design.

The impact of the ARG/MEU in the Indo-Pacific has gone beyond modernization to include dramatic gains in interoperability with the Joint Force and key allies and partners. The ARG/MEUs in the Indo-Pacific regularly lead efforts to develop MAGTFs into a potent joint and combined enabler, detecting threats and passing targeting data from any sensor to any shooter, all while incorporating the capabilities of our allies and partners. During recent exercises like KAMANDAG, BALIKATAN, TALISMAN SABER, and IRON FIST, ARG/MEUs rehearsed coalition operations, clearly demonstrating the interoperability needed to deter aggression by China. In 2023, the USS America ARG and the 31st MEU participated in TALISMAN SABER, embarking troops from Australia, Germany, Indonesia, Japan, South Korea, and the UK before rapidly responding to a disaster relief mission after the eruption of Mount Bagana in Papua New Guinea. In 2024, the USS Boxer ARG and the 15th MEU exercised with the Republic of Korea, the Philippines, and Japan, on the doorstep of China’s anti-access/area- denial systems. This ARG/MEU also integrated the USS Miguel Keith Expeditionary Support Base into MEU exercises and assisted in the disaster response following Typhoon Krathon in the Philippines, providing aid to remote locations throughout the archipelago. This year, the 31st MEU is afloat again operating in the Coral Sea.

The impact of the ARG/MEU expands beyond the Indo-Pacific. During the Gaza and Iran contingencies, the 26th MEU provided crisis response options in the CENTCOM area of responsibility. Earlier, the 24th MEU supported Sixth Fleet maritime operations and was postured for non-combatant evacuation operations during the Israel-Lebanon conflict. In EUCOM, ARG/MEUs provide the fleet commander with a purpose-built capability designed to respond to crises across multiple combatant commands through maritime, multidomain reconnaissance constructs and activities. In 2022, Exercise NORTHERN VIKING integrated Marines and sailors from the USS Kearsarge ARG and 22nd MEU, the 22nd Naval Construction Regiment, and Navy P-8 Poseidon aircraft, with German, Norwegian, and French warships, United Kingdom Royal Marines, and the Icelandic Coast Guard into a coherent and capable unit. Exercises like these enable burden sharing by ensuring interoperability with our most willing and capable security partners.

The ARG/MEUs also provide key capabilities to the Joint Force during times of crisis. In 2017, the 11th MEU provided its artillery unit to support SOF in Syria during Operation INHERENT RESOLVE, firing more rounds in combat than any other U.S. artillery unit since the Vietnam War. In 2020 and 2021, the 15th MEU and the USS Makin Island ARG executed amphibious withdrawals to reposition U.S. forces around Somalia while maintaining pressure on violent extremists and enabling partnered forces as part of Operation OCTAVE QUARTZ. And as recently as August of this year, the 22nd MEU supported forward homeland defense operations in the SOUTHCOM area of responsibility, showing the significant operational flexibility of this formation. The ARG/MEUs afloat also provide multi-domain sensing operations in support of the Joint Force through its intelligence enablers and embarked reconnaissance capabilities which are frequently employed to capacity while underway. These examples not only demonstrate the agility and capability of the ARG/MEU but also its unique value proposition: a flexible forward-deployed force, operationally relevant, with multi-domain capabilities.

An Effective MEU Needs a Ready ARG
Today, a shortage of ready amphibious warfare ships precludes achieving the needed 3.0 ARG/MEU presence. In response, the Marine Corps has employed Special Purpose MAGTFs to fill the resulting gaps. While better than having no force available, this is a sub-optimal solution: lacking organic mobility and sustainment, and the flexibility of acting from a sovereign naval platform without the need for access, basing, or overflight permissions. This loss of mobility requires the MEU to use other Joint Force options and places additional stress on already limited strategic airlift assets. Finally, to be a true replacement for the MEU, an Special Purpose MAGTF requires additional resources to compensate for the loss of naval command and control systems—resources that are already in short supply and high demand for other military operations.

Both the Navy and the defense industrial base have struggled in recent years to maintain AWS readiness and capacity. Today, leaders from both the Executive and Legislative branches recognize the national security risk of our dilapidated domestic maritime industrial base. Congress continually recognizes the need for AWS construction, and the President’s Restoring America’s Maritime Dominance Executive Order seeks to address shortfalls in commercial and military shipbuilding. Additionally, the bipartisan SHIPS Act, currently working its way through Congress, seeks to address maritime shipping shortfalls. The issues affecting our Nation’s maritime industrial base and the Navy’s maintenance, repair, and overhaul enterprise will not be fixed overnight. Greater long-term investment in AWS, in terms of both new construction and maintenance, would expand leaders’ options for employing MEUs to advance national interests while providing a reinvigorated energy to the American manufacturing sector.

Ready in Hours—Not Days
An ARG/MEU on patrol around the world is the ultimate expression of the Navy/Marine Corps Team and the global reach of U.S. military power. When disaster strikes or conflict brews, Marines must mobilize within hours—not days. From humanitarian assistance in the Philippines, to contingency response in the Eastern Mediterranean, to homeland defense operations in the Caribbean, the ARG/MEU remains the Joint Force’s premier crisis response force: America’s 911 Force. Whether operating independently or as part of an integrated naval expeditionary force, the MEU provides our national leadership and combatant commanders with scalable, mission-tailored, and combat credible forces that are persistently on-scene and contribute to deterrence, crisis response, power projection, and combat operations.

Amphibious forces are multi-domain by nature. We organize at every level for combined arms, fully integrating capabilities in such a way that if the enemy attempts to counteract one, they leave themselves vulnerable to another. Because of their inherent and unique versatility, flexibility, and speed, wherever amphibious forces go, they introduce uncertainty into the calculus of our adversary. We must continue to invest in amphibious capability to ensure consistent deployment of ARG/MEUs, a time-tested asset vital to national security. In competition and conflict alike, the ARG/MEU on amphibious ships remains first to fight—because when the Nation needs a flexible, lethal force in readiness, there is no substitute.

Gendarmerie de Marjah

Success at ground level

Marjah, Afghanistan, was the financial base and perceived Taliban “heart of darkness” prior to Operation MOSHTARAK in early 2010.1 After a few months, the political perception of the progress of MOSHTARAK was that the reclaiming of Marjah for the Government of the Islamic Republic of Afghanistan (GIRoA) was moving too slow. The former Commander, International Security Assistance Force, GEN Stanley McChrystal, USA, even referred to Marjah as a “bleeding ulcer.”2 Marjah needed a turning point, and one manifested in the combined efforts of Marines, the Afghan National Security Forces (ANSF), and, most importantly, grassroots security initiatives. This article seeks to capture the value and success of grassroots security initiatives in Marjah district in early 2011.

The fledgling, unofficial district of Marjah is a heavily populated rural area estimated to be home to 150,000 to 200,000 people. The district is built around a network of irrigation canals constructed by the U.S. Agency for International Development in the 1950s and 1960s. The district was split into two battalion areas of operation (AOs). The southern area, known as “Marjah proper” or “South Marjah,” was organized in blocks created by the 1 by 3 kilometer cultivable tracts cut from the desert and traced by irrigation canals. Marjah proper was essentially already organized into 50 platoon-sized AOs. Following construction of the U.S. Agency for International Development project, Marjah became an American-style melting pot of many different Pashtun tribes that took advantage of government land offers, resulting in intermixed, heterogeneous villages. This tribal dynamic meant the people were accustomed to compromising between tribes to accomplish daily tasks such as division of water usage for their crops.

Friendly forces in Marjah consisted of 2 reinforced Marine infantry battalions (2d Battalion, 9th Marines (2/9), to be replaced by 2/8 and 3/9, to be replaced by 3/6), 2 Afghan National Army (ANA) kandaks (battalions), 2 Afghan National Civil Order Police (ANCOP) kandaks, and 1 large district Afghan Uniformed Police (AUP) force. In the fall of 2010, 2/6 (3/9’s predecessor in South Marjah), under Regimental Combat Team 7 (RCT–7), then RCT–1, began the Interim Security for Critical Infrastructure (ISCI) program. ISCI was modeled after the Combined Forces Special Operations Component Command-Afghanistan (CFSOCC-A) program known as Afghan Local Police (ALP), which was unveiled earlier in 2010. ALP, exclusively partnered with special operations forces, was a GIRoA-sanctioned grassroots security initiative. It centered on locals defending their neighborhoods against the insurgency. Before ALP could operate in a district, the site had to be approved by International Security Assistance Force Joint Command, CFSOCC-A, and the Afghan Ministry of Interior (MoI), which could take months. The authorization and approval for conventional Marine forces to wield ALP in Marjah was uncertain. ISCI was created to provide Marjah the immediate benefits of a grassroots security program. ISCI was to be a transient program until an MoI alternative could replace it. At the time of 3/9’s arrival, 2/6 had recruited and trained between 200 and 300 ISCI members. In North Marjah, 2/9 recruited and trained between 40 and 50 members.

Fight fire with fire. (Photo by author.)

Coalition support of policing in Marjah was distributed across several parties. The primary advisor to the District Chief of Police (DCOP) was an RCT–1 officer assigned to the district government center where the DCOP lived but did not work. In addition to the DCOP’s primary advisor, there was the South Marjah Police Advisor Team (South Marjah PAT) platoon commander based at the Marjah District Police Headquarters (Marjah DPHQ). The platoon commander also worked with the DCOP daily and was primarily concerned with AUP issues in South Marjah. The battalion in North Marjah also had a PAT platoon commander who operated from his battalion CP several kilometers to the north. He was primarily concerned with AUP, ISCI, and ANCOP issues in North Marjah. ISCI issues in South Marjah were run by that battalion’s S–3A (assistant operations officer). Amidst these distributed duties, the DCOP remained the sole Afghan official responsible for all AUP, ISCI, and ALP within the district.

Mission
The Marines of Marjah saw the counterinsurgency fight as a numbers game where we sought to achieve the highest ratio of counterinsurgent to population; however, with Marjah’s large population and threat, we could not secure it quickly with the forces provided. We decided to grow our own combat power. The mission was to recruit, man, train, equip, finance, and advise a battalion-sized element to secure the population and link it to GIRoA.

Instructors levied Afghan leaders as troop handlers and, in many instances, assistant instructors. (Photo by author.)

We outfitted ISCI with uniforms to integrate supporting arms into their operations. (Photo by author.)

Execution
Coalition and ANSF units needed specific roles so we could develop a “combined arms” approach to securing Marjah. Marines and ANA, capable of operating in austere environments, would expand the bubble of security from the center of Marjah to the desert outskirts. ANCOP, comprised of literate former AUP NCOs, were the most developed force and were logistically independent, capable, and reliable enough to accomplish basic tactical tasks. ANCOP served as a highway patrol that secured key lines of communications. The AUP were positioned around key population centers within the security bubble. Coalition forces and ANSF units formed a series of concentric circles centered on the district government center (see Figure 1). The perimeter, key population centers, and routes were secured, but a gap existed: In the bubble, there were still huge tracts of land and small villages lacking significant presence. Grassroots security initiatives were the answer to filling this gap.

The concept was to develop a large police force of local men and then train and professionalize them so they could defend their blocks and augment security forces. The relationship between ALP, ISCI, and AUP was modeled from a typical American county in which there are municipal police, highway patrol, and a county sheriff’s office working within the same AO with different powers. For example, Los Angeles County has the California Highway Patrol, Los Angeles Police Department, and Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department, where all forces operate side by side and work closely together on a daily basis.

To realize our concept, we first had to reorganize our advising effort to efficiently develop the Afghans. Advisors are most effective when side by side with their partners 24/7. Marjah’s DCOP spent the preponderance of his time (daily from approximately 0600 to 2200) at his District Police Headquarters (DPHQ). He slept at the district center compound where his advisor resided. Day-to-day business was conducted at DPHQ, yet his advisor did not possess a workspace or consistent transportation to advise the DCOP during daily operations. In addition to the DCOP’s advisor, the South Marjah PAT, S–3A, and North Marjah PAT all influenced parts of the DCOP’s force. The DCOP had four different Marine officer advisors who pulled him in different directions. Most importantly, not one Marine advisor was in a position to appreciate the full responsibilities of the DCOP. The distributed advisors caused confusion and frustration on both sides of the partnership. We had success in consolidating the management of policing under the PAT. The South Marjah PAT, under the command of an RCT–1 officer, assumed control of advising the DCOP, manning, training, and equipping AUP, ISCI, and ALP. There still existed a potential fissure between the North and South Marjah PATs, but the South Marjah PAT provided a considerable amount of legwork in contracting (facilitating weapons and equipment procurement through Afghan processes) so that the relationship between PATs was mutually beneficial. As a result, the DCOP had a dedicated partner who shared the gravity of his responsibilities and became a single source for support. Afghan confusion and frustration decreased and coalition understanding of police capabilities and limitations increased. The good relationship and unity of effort between North and South Marjah PATs reinforced the AUP chain of command and forced the centralization of logistical and administrative support at the district level.

PAT organization. PAT organization was simple. The officer in charge handled engagement and advising with key Afghan leaders and issued commander’s intent. The executive officer ran the day-to-day operations of the various sections and developed courses of action for accomplishing the officer in charge’s intent. A training cell managed five training centers and issued guidance to cadres. A finance cell managed the drafting, processing, and organization of multiple contracts to finance ISCI salaries, uniforms, radios, and equipment. Administration of funding streams required several certified paying agents, purchasing officers, and project managers. An administrative cell partnered with AUP finance and personnel officers to ensure police were paid. Each member on the team held at least one collateral duty in addition to his primary mission.

We then organized the battlespace for efficiency. The PAT assisted the DCOP in dividing Marjah into four precincts. ANA, U.S. Marine Corps, ANCOP, AUP, and ALP headquarters were collocated to ease coordination and communication by key leaders.

Man. The recruiting effort was multipronged. The battalion commander down to platoon commanders saturated their conversations with ISCI recruiting messages; however, the DCOP was the pivotal recruiter, as he was crucial in recruiting block leaders. The first core group of ISCI leaders, or “White Kings,” energized recruiting by their example. A newly recruited block leader had to secure approval of his elders, which the DCOP and PAT recorded. The PAT would enter each approved member into the BAT (biometric automated toolset) system and issue an ISCI or ALP identification card. If a recruit was flagged on BAT, the DCOP and ISCI/ALP leadership would determine if he was eligible to serve. The Afghans had the final say. To build combat power fast, the PAT supported mobile registration of ISCI members and held regular registration hours at DPHQ. Within a few months we recruited over 1000 members.

Train. The PAT established and operated 5 training centers to support a 21-day MoI period of instruction for ALP. Cadres were small and included a lead instructor, translator, and an occasional assistant for practical application. Instructors levied Afghan leaders as troop handlers and in many instances, assistant instructors. Each day trainees exercised and recited a pledge of allegiance to GIRoA. Training days began early and concluded before noon so as not to disrupt farming and household business. White boards, tents, and chairs were purchased. Chairs were an important luxury; when a trainee received a chair, he felt that what he was doing was special.

Equip. We concentrated on facilitating the procurement of weapons, ammunition, uniforms, and equipment to the Marjah police. Weapons and ammunition were the most critical. An unarmed policeman was useless. Coalition forces were legally restricted from providing weapons to the police and we never violated those rules. We used the numerous weapons cache finds to our advantage. It became policy to turn over all AK–47 caliber (and below) weapons and ammunition to the DCOP. Once the DCOP possessed reclaimed weapons and ammunition, he could distribute them as he saw fit. The DCOP chose to outfit ISCI members with these weapons. The benefits of arming an ISCI member outweighed the alternative of sending caches away to be exploited as evidence. The PAT also assisted the AUP in pulling on its own supply chains to pick up weapons and ammunition from the provincial supply point in Lashkar Gah.

The PAT assisted the DCOP in dividing Marjah into four precincts aligned to ANA, U.S. Marine Corps, ANCOP, AUP, and ALP. (Photo by author.)

The PAT became experts at wielding the multiple funding streams present on the battlefield. Initially ISCI wore a yellow armband purchased via the Commander’s Emergency Response Program (CERP), but it was hard to see. ISCI and ALP on the battlefield meant limited use of supporting arms since they were difficult to identify, so we outfitted them with uniforms in order to integrate supporting arms into their operations. CERP was used to purchase each member a full uniform, complete with blouse, trousers, belt, beret, boots, chest rigs, and unit patches. The DCOP designed the uniforms based on a prototype ALP uniform. The PAT used local contractors to produce and deliver all 1,200 sets of uniforms. We went to great lengths to transport the uniforms (which were made in Kabul) using both local ground and military air transportation. The PAT installed a tailor shop at DPHQ that produced 700 tactical vests on-site.

ISCI members were dependent on mobile phones for communication. Only one carrier, Afghan Wireless Communication Company, serviced Marjah. Local Afghan Wireless Communication Company towers would shut down daily at approximately 1600 to 1700, leaving no reliable means of communication until the next morning. The PAT set out to purchase GP360 Motorola VHF radios, ultimately delivering over 250 of them and working with the police to devise a basic communications plan. We laid the groundwork for the establishment of radio repeater towers to ensure reliable radio communications throughout the district. We also programmed our PRC–152 radios to talk to police radios. The improved network accelerated reaction times to enemy activity and increased command and control for the DCOP. Alerts could be transmitted quickly to tighten the noose on fleeing insurgents. Once in police hands, the radios and the communications plan took on lives of their own, and soon each leader had a call sign and a series of code words.

Finance. The most challenging task was ISCI’s financial management. CERP rules and regulations became a focal point of the PAT. A finance cell within the PAT, comprised of an officer and NCO, was solely dedicated to mastering CERP. The PAT did not receive training on USFOR-A Publication 1–06, Money as a Weapon System Afghanistan (MAAWS-A) (U.S. Forces, Afghanistan, December 2009), or the CERP, save a few classes once in theater. The cell managed the 40 to 50 simultaneous contracts as the program grew in popularity. Each contract contained roughly 16 to 20 pages of documentation. Afghan currency exchange rates would frequently fluctuate, causing on-hand cash shortages right before payday. Fluid timing for approval of new ISCI contracts would always cause instability and frustration for ISCI members. ISCI members relied on their first payday to reimburse the fuel and equipment costs accrued after weeks of standing up against the Taliban. To the enemy, a future ISCI leader waiting for contract approval was no different than an active ISCI leader. Changing interpretations of CERP rules as the scope of the ISCI program grew caused major delays.

Advising. Upon introduction to the DCOP, we met a small, frail, and quiet man in charge of a ragtag band of police. First impressions failed to reveal that the DCOP was an exceptional leader and his police had their priorities straight to fight an insurgency. The PAT advised the DCOP based on his strengths and weaknesses. As a former Mujahedeen fighter, the DCOP was a war hero. His reputation forged strong, effective relationships with key elders. The DCOP, however, was a terrible manager and lacked organization skills, a considerable problem since his responsibilities were those of a battalion commander. The DCOP would be successful if he was paired with an organized and loyal deputy. The PAT identified one of his talented, experienced officers, but the challenge was to get the DCOP to use him, as the concept of delegation in Pashtun culture equates to giving away power. The PAT persisted and began to see the DCOP delegate. The DCOP was an excellent public figure. Like an American county sheriff, he was more politician than law enforcement officer. He had the ability to recruit and mediate problems and disagreements. The PAT advised the DCOP to hold weekly ISCI meetings with district community council members and the district governor. His efforts in holding the police force together with peaceful mediation continually undermined insurgent efforts to divide ANSF in Marjah.

Considering the conditions, the police weren’t bad. Police weapons and ammunition were clean and uniforms were kept in surprisingly good condition. In fact, in some areas, the Afghans were superior to coalition forces. At the platoon level, Afghans were far faster than Marines. The Afghans were lightly armed and equipped, producing short response times. Marines—subject to their many rules and requirements to utilize complex technologies such as electronic countermeasures, radios, MRAPs, mine rollers, and optics—were very safe yet very slow when a required moving part reliably broke or malfunctioned. The police could rally and deploy a platoon-sized outfit within 20 minutes or less. In another few minutes, they could surge and completely saturate an area, which was a formidable capability from the enemy’s perspective.

Transition to ALP. The ISCI program coupled well with ALP. It could be started quickly and did not rely on slow-responding MoI institutions to finance and equip. ISCI whet the public’s appetite for grassroots security programs, but it lacked the authenticity of an MoI institution. ALP was one step closer toward the Afghan government. Once CFSOCC-A and MoI approved Marjah for ALP, we were ready to transition ISCI into ALP.

CFSOCC-A served as the executive agency of the ALP program in Afghanistan, and provided guidance on its shaping. While ALP is an armed police force, it is first and foremost a vehicle to link the people to their government. ALP must be rooted in the shura (meeting) or traditional Afghan council of elders. An ALP site first requires a village stability platform (VSP). In Marjah’s case, the VSP was the district community council.

After a validation shura in which MoI officials approved Marjah’s request for ALP, the district was approved for a 300-man tashkiel (table of organization and table of equipment). The tashkiel included 289 patrolmen, 10 platoon commanders, 1 district leader, 20 Ford Rangers, 30 Icom radios, and 300 AK–47s. The PAT recommended to the DCOP that the 300-man tashkiel be separated into three 100-man companies each to be commanded by an ALP company commander (Marjah would later receive an increase of another 100-man company and would increase to four 100-man precincts). ISCI membership was not a prerequisite to becoming an ALP officer, but the elders preferred to select ALP officers from the large existing pool of ISCI members. Each candidate had to complete the 3-week ALP period of instruction, a biometric scan, a drug test, a yearlong contract, and a taskera. A “taskera” is the Afghan national identification card proving citizenship. The PAT went through great lengths to arrange the most convenient means for ISCI members to receive a taskera. Marjah, as an unofficial district, was a special case since it lacked standard government services (specifically a district taskera office and official). The PAT had to arrange for a taskera official and the provincial recruiting officer to travel to Marjah on several occasions to issue taskera applications. While the PAT continued to train candidates as ALP officers, an MoI/CFSOCC-A in-processing team administered biometric enrollment and drug tests. Candidates were disqualified for opium use only. Marijuana use was common in Marjah. Candidates discovered using marijuana were disciplined by the DCOP and in most cases retained. Multiple infractions brought more severe punishment and severance. Once the candidates were official ALP officers, MoI supplied weapons, ammunition, uniforms, vehicles, radios, and, most important, salaries. We continued to pay ALP an ISCI salary until the government salary (which we also assisted the police with administering) kicked in. The PAT assisted the police with multiple trips to the provincial capital in Lashkar Gah to engage provincial AUP staff officers to requisition and transport ALP supplies.

Marjah’s employment of ALP differed from special operations forces–partnered ALP sites. CFSOCC-A advertised that outlying district areas were to be secured by ALP with other ANSF units securing population centers. In Marjah, outlying areas were enemy-held. The enemy was well armed and not subject to caliber restrictions on weapons as was ALP. MoI supplied ALP with 1 AK–47 and 2 magazines with 30 rounds each. They received no heavier weapons such as rocket-propelled grenades, PKMs (Kalashnikov machineguns), or 25mm grenades. We pursued caliber waivers for ALP, but, even if approved, delivery would have been subject to a slow and corrupt MoI supply system. Instead we (DCOP and Marines) employed ALP in the security bubble, in the gaps existing within the concentric circles of ANSF and coalition forces. ALP operated the same way as ISCI; their policing allowed Marines and ANA to clear and hold outlying areas.

There were many problems with the police but they all could be solved or mitigated. Rivalry between ANSF units was an early problem that took solid partnership from the entire battalion to overcome. We made it clear that the alternative to cooperation was defeat. Conflicts never completely disappeared but were seriously reduced as each ANSF unit settled into solid working relationships. ISCI and ALP were not immune to corruption, but they didn’t break any records either. The corruption levels in ISCI and ALP mirrored those of any other ANSF institutions. ISCI and ALP would break rules and need constant education on their limits of power and responsibility, but that’s precisely why we as advisors were there. Perhaps most of all was the tremendous fear of having a large armed group that would face unemployment once the insurgency was defeated. “Off-ramp” plans for ISCI and ALP involved vocational/technical schools and funneling former members into other ANSF units; however, the PAT noticed a trend of ISCI members voluntarily leaving the ranks to seek employment in the developing bazaars. ISCI was part-time work. Members provided invaluable service as local police officers, but continued to farm and earn income elsewhere. The salary for ISCI may have initially seemed like a draw, but the $150 a month wasn’t that much considering a good AK–47 (a job requirement) cost $800 to $1,000. Most ISCI members would dissolve into the emerging economy and the agricultural life they never left. It was a risky endeavor that had its fair share of problems. Arming a group of folks that didn’t always get along, with agendas that sometimes ran contrary to GIRoA, posed a challenge, but the risks never outweighed the gains.

An Mol/CFSOCC-A in-processing team administered biometric enrollment and drug tests. (Photo by author.)

The failure of previous grassroots security initiatives in Afghanistan, such as the Afghan National Police Auxiliary and later the Afghan Public Protection Force Program, and the memory of complications with the Sons of Iraq program, caused apprehension and, in some cases, opposition to the ISCI program. Opponents saw the program for what it seemed to be on paper: hired U.S. Government security contractors blindly selected and managed by Americans willing to pay anyone to improve security. The design and management of ISCI contained three key principles that set it apart from previous programs:

• First, the ISCI program was Afghan-led. Each block appointed its own leader along traditional lines in which elders selected and approved a man, and that leader reported to Marjah’s DCOP.

• Second, local Afghans managed the ISCI program. Afghan elders and block leaders selected each man chosen for duty in the ISCI program—no man was selected by coalition forces. The DCOP and district governor approved all block leaders and their units.

• Third, the ISCI program provided a critical link for the people to their government. ISCI leaders became elected district community council members. ISCI membership was not a prerequisite for election, but those involved in ISCI already possessed a natural inclination for community and government involvement. ISCI began to fulfill ALP objectives even before a Marjah ALP site was approved.

What Did They Bring to the Fight?
Cost effectiveness. The ISCI and ALP programs could accomplish the same tasks with a few scantly equipped men, whereas coalition forces would be forced to use expensive intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance; large vehicles; fuel; and the support structure it takes to put a Marine on the ground. These brave Afghan men were not chaff, but if you look at their results compared to what it costs them to operate, it’s a very convincing argument in times of looming budget cuts.

Credibility. Of specific importance was the credibility of GIRoA’s cause to the local population. There are cultural and religious obstacles that need to be overcome for a fence-sitting local Marjah man to side with a bunch of Americans or ANA or AUP from a different province. It is easier for that same man to side with a neighbor involved in a grassroots security program.

Unique knowledge of physical and social landscapes. Local knowledge from ISCI was used to refine operations whether it was a recommendation on a safe, trafficable route or how a certain neighborhood may respond to a company helo raid in their backyard. ISCI and ALP were consistently included in operational planning. No matter what the tactical yield of the operation, if it was a scheme of maneuver endorsed by the public, it was a victory for the people and for GIRoA. Any instance where the peoples’ will could be manifested in a GIRoA operation was a critical blow to the insurgency. The people want an instrument to provide their needs and will use any instrument available, whether insurgent or legitimate government. It is imperative that the government be the most accessible and easy instrument to provide the needs of the people.

Symmetrical approach to the enemy. Fight fire with fire. The insurgents enjoyed fighting coalition forces asymmetrically. They benefitted from typical insurgent advantages: concealment and logistical support from the population. ISCI and ALP denied insurgent access to the population. An ISCI or ALP member was a “human biometric machine” who could identify insurgent members and supporters. ISCI and ALP turned the tables on the insurgents. The population was teeming with ISCI and ALP. The insurgency was now surrounded uncertainty and danger. The psychological impact was tremendous, as confirmed by reports of Taliban leadership being frustrated by the success of the ISCI and ALP. We learned that the Taliban bounty for ISCI and ALP members surpassed the price tag for an American officer.

Conclusion
The measures of effectiveness of ISCI and ALP were simple: Wherever ISCI and ALP were active, there were no significant enemy actions or events. Perhaps the most glaring measure of effectiveness came when we received reports of insurgent leaders issuing calls to prayer in Quetta, Pakistan, specifically against Marjah’s ISCI. The enemy justified the value of grassroots security initiatives. At the risk of seeming like a self-licking ice cream cone, it is important that this story be told. What we ended up building was one of the largest police forces in Afghanistan. Growing our own Afghan-owned and -operated combat power linked to GIRoA was the turning point Marjah needed. Our work was similar to that of Smedley Butler and Chesty Puller and their experiences in the Gendarmerie de Haiti. The efforts of RCT–7, RCT–1, 2/9, 2/6, 3/9, and 2/8 were in keeping with the Marine Corps’ small-wars tradition.

Notes

1. Staff, “British soldier makes ‘ultimate sacrifice’ as he dies in Afghanistan on first day of Operation Moshtarak,” Daily Mail, 13 February 2010, available at www.dailymail.co.uk.

2. Nissenbaum, Dion, “McChrystal calls Marjah a ‘bleeding ulcer’ in Afghan campaign,” McClatchy Newspapers, 24 May 2010, available at www.mcclatchydc.com.

>Originally published in the Marine Corps Gazette, February 2014. The author’s biography is available in the original edition.

Bulldozers to Baghdad

Marine Corps combat D9 dozers in the Iraq War

Marines have always emphasized high-speed mobility. We place a premium on acquiring equipment that is lighter and faster. But sometimes, particularly during military operations on urbanized terrain (MOUT), a “low-speed, high-drag” and “bigger is better” approach makes the best combat sense. Marine infantry need all the assault breaching support they can get. In preparation for the March 2003 drive on Baghdad, I MEF G–3 engineers anticipated and planned for the worst. Sustained MAGTF operations demanded a robust, armored bulldozer capability for congested towns, such as An Nasiriyah, Highway 7, Al Kut, the Diyala River approach, Baghdad, and later Najaf and Fallujah. Known affectionately as the “Teddy Bear” by Israeli and American forces, the Caterpillar D9 (made in the United States, modified in Israel) clearly fit the bill. It provided the Marine Corps and the U.S. Army with a superb 65-ton armored urban assault breaching machine.

During the battle for Fallujah in November 2004, a Marine infantry platoon is pinned down, taking heavy fire from a three-story, cinderblock construction warehouse across the broad street in front of them. An 8-foot wall with heavy iron doors is in front of the structure. Most of the enemy fire is from the roof. The lieutenant quickly ponders how best to get across this killing zone and reduce a tough obstacle and enemy position.

The gunny takes one look at the lieutenant and both nod, thinking and exclaiming the same thing, “Time for Teddy Bears and tanks. Engineers up!” With that, their closest squad leader calls back to one of his NCOs, who further signals behind them down a neighboring alley to their attached combat engineers. A huge Detroit diesel clears its throat, and a friendly, familiar belch of black smoke signals the move forward. As Shakespeare said in King Henry V, “Once more unto the breach.” Sixty-five tons of Caterpillar D9 dozer, reinforced with its thick Israeli armor kit and other combat modifications, moves forward. A second D9 is not far behind, and their operators call for their flank security of two outboard M1 Abrams tanks. Yes, thinks the senior dozer operator, and he says into his radio, “It’s all about supporting Marine infantry ‘at the tip of the spear.’ Without the grunts, we supporting arms are unemployed.”

As the lieutenant feels the ground tremble and vibrate, he sees the huge, familiar dozer silhouette come around the corner. He breathes a sigh of relief, saying confidently to the gunny, “Now that’s assault breaching support.” Like primordial beasts, the dozers lurch forward confidently into the open crossfire. They are focused on the obstacles ahead and the proven Marine Corps version of the old childhood game, “Knock, knock. Who’s there?” Enemy bullets bounce off the D9s as they close the distance. Several rocket propelled grenades (RPGs) prematurely detonate against the field expedient steel mesh barrier encasing the dozer cabs. The M1 tanks on their outboard flanks are faithfully suppressing enemy fire. The Marine infantry add to their own fire with war whoops and hollers of “Go baby,” “Get some,” and “Take that muj” (mujahideen). With momentum and tons of cold steel, the dozers crush their way through the ineffective gated walls and proceed with demolishing the building. Punching out the main load-bearing support columns, the large structure collapses upon itself. Stunned enemy are easily eliminated. Grinning from ear to ear, the gunny turns to the lieutenant and sums up what they’ve just witnessed, “No wonder Israeli grunts call that machine ‘The Zionist Monster.’”

Marines improvise RPG defensive HESCO screens on USMC D9 dozers, Camp Fallujah, October 2004. (Photo by author.)

Since 1902, when Benjamin Holt invented the first bulldozer in Stockton, CA, it has been a distinctive symbol of our “can do” American nature. And this cultural icon applied to our wars. Reflecting on lessons from World War II, Marine Gen Holland M. “Howlin Mad” Smith, the indomitable architect of American amphibious operations, focused on this machine. In his classic 1948 memoir, Coral and Brass (Charles Scribners & Sons, 1949) he stated:

Often, the bulldozer was well ahead of the combat troops, and developed a rugged personality all its own. The roar of the bulldozer as it tore up palm trees and dug out rocks was as familiar as the noise of gunfire. The bulldozer became a symbol of American efficiency.

Dozers continued to contribute to American war efforts in Korea and Vietnam, and no one paid closer attention to these combat mobility lessons than the Israel Defence Force (IDF).

In spring 1984, LTC Eitan Lidor, of the IDF’s Hadassah Kravit (Combat Engineer Corps), visited 1st Combat Engineer Battalion (1st CEB), 1st MarDiv. A battalion commander and combat veteran (1973 Yom Kippur War and 1982 Operation PEACE FOR GALILEE), Lidor spent time observing and critiquing Marine Corps mechanized assault obstacle breaching exercises by 1st, 5th, and 7th Marines, reinforced by 1st CEB, 1st Tank, and 1st Assault Amphibious Vehicle Battalion. This led to further contacts and friendships. Other liaison exchanges followed. In 1987 I participated in combat exercises at the IDF engineer base at Ado Reem, in the Judean Desert near Hebron. In 1990 Marine Corps reps from Quantico visited Tel Aviv, where now-GEN Lidor (commander of the IDF Engineer Corps) greased the skids for Marine acquisition of Israeli assault breaching gear. By 1991 this equipment was in high demand by U.S. coalition forces in Saudi Arabia focused on liberating Kuwait. The results spoke for themselves when GEN Norman Schwarzkopf made his famous post-DESERT STORM speech praising Marine Corps assault breaching prowess.

USMC grunts with D9, toward end of Fallujah battle, November 2004. (Photo by author.)

A new piece of gear entered the IDF table of organization in the 1990s. Quantities of U.S. commercial Caterpillar D9 bulldozers rolled off the assembly line in Peoria, IL, and were transferred to Tel Aviv for significant modifications by Israel Aircraft Industry’s Ramta Division. Added to the original 50-ton dozer were 15 tons of armor, ballistic glass, machineguns, smoke grenade dischargers, radios, and a two-man crew configuration. To IDF combat engineers, the D9 became something special. First referred to in Hebrew as “Dov” (Bear), this morphed into the more affectionate nickname “Dubi” (Teddy Bear). This would be the same term of endearment used by Marines in Operation IRAQI FREEDOM.

By summer 2002, I MEF held its MEF exercise, focusing on the situation in Iraq. The Marine mission was to “head up the middle” between the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers from Kuwait to Baghdad, some 500 kilometers up the historic Mesopotamian plain. Main concern to the MEF G–3 engineers was the terrain—lots of rivers (Euphrates, Saddam Canal, Tigris, and Diyala) and congested urban areas. The MEF needed some special capabilities. The MEF’s Engineer Equipment Shortfall Board was familiar with and recommended the D9. The MEF commanding general (CG) (then-LtGen James T. Conway) agreed. Thus the Marine Corps again turned to the IDF for unique assault breaching combat engineer gear. The U.S. Army also identified a similar need. Efforts to obtain IDF D9s were consolidated, resulting in the delivery of nine vehicles to Kuwait in February 2003. Four of these, together with Army heavy equipment transporters (HETs), were delivered to 1st MarDiv’s CEB (combined 1st and 2d CEBs, commanded by then-LtCol Mike Micucci). For ease of tracking and because of their special nature, the four Marine Corps D9s were named “Golda” (for Israel’s historic prime minister), “Ziva” (after the wife of GEN Lidor, who had graciously hosted Marine engineers in Israel), “Matilda” (from the song of 1st MarDiv), and “Natasha” (John Wayne’s World War II dozer in The Fighting Seabees and a tribute to the I MEG’s SeaBees).

Coiled like a cobra on the northern Kuwait border facing Iraq, the Americans and British were ready. The Navy SeaBees of the MEG gathered an unprecedented 54 bulldozers just north of 1st MarDiv’s Camp Matilda. Their primary focus was crossing the line of departure on 20 March 2003. Their mission was breaching operations and rapid mobility. Mounted on sturdy Army HETs that could handle rough terrain, the four Marine Corps D9s had a definite mobility advantage. The MEG’s 54 SeaBee dozers, together with 12 Marine D7s, would, in the weeks to come, provide essential combat and combat service support to 1st MarDiv and Task Force (TF) Tarawa. But it was the four D9s that were continuously at the tip of the spear. It was TF Tarawa that first put a D9 to the real test at the battle of Nasiriyah in late March 2003. Then-MajGen James N. Mattis (CG, 1st MarDiv) loaned Matilda to BGen Richard F. Natonski (CG, TF Tarawa) under one condition, “That you use her to crush as many of these worst excuses for men and SOBs as possible.” This Matilda proceeded to do so under enemy fire as she cleared obstacles all over Nasiriyah. Natonski recognized her exemplary performance over evening video teleconferences, as Matilda provided crucial support to TF Tarawa all the way north up Highway 7 to Al Kut. The three D9s with 1st MarDiv rapidly advanced northwest up Highway 1 to the Numaniyah crossing of the Tigris River. In early April at the final Baghdad river obstacle on the Diyala River, enemy engineers blew key bridges. The D9s were brought up under enemy fire to cut approaches for the 8th Engineer Support Battalion assault bridging units of 1st MarDiv.

The D9s proved their worth to both the Marine Corps and the U.S. Army in the drive on Baghdad. LtCol Micucci stated, “The D9 was my ‘go to’ piece of heavy equipment. It was always there with the faithful HETs, ready and waiting to make things happen.” The U.S. Army agreed and ordered seven more D9s from Israel. They arrived during fall 2003, making a total of 16 coalition D9s in Iraq. All would later be needed.

By 2004 some valuable lessons learned from prior employment of D9s had been lost. Newly arrived staff officers within the coalition simply looked at the assault breaching Teddy Bear as “just another bulldozer.” D9s were scattered “out west” all over Al Anbar Province to the Syrian and Jordanian borders. Little maintenance was done on them, and specialized operator training was nil. The D9 needs a combat operator, not just a driver! This changed in August 2004 with the return rotation of the original I MEF G–3 engineers. By late summer, all Marine Corps D9s were being consolidated at Camp Fallujah. Israeli-based MOUT tactics, techniques, and procedures (TTP) were developed. D9 lessons were also learned during the September 2004 battle for Najaf.

In preparation for the upcoming battle of Fallujah, new assault breach training became a priority. High-intensity combat was coming. The D9 was not a simple dozer or surgical instrument. It was a big sledgehammer meant for a combined arms team. More D9s and HETs were needed, so the Marines asked the theater Army engineers for assistance. This was graciously provided by the Army 420th, and later, 20th Engineer Brigades out of Camp Victory, Baghdad.

Maintenance and repair of the D9 dozers, which were not in the regular U.S. inventory, was a challenge. Caterpillar repair technicians and links with Israeli friends were essential. In combat conditions, “selective interchange” of parts (i.e., cannibalization) took place between D9s.

The real Achilles’ heel of the D9 dozer was transportation. Without dedicated Army HET tractors, trailers, and operators, the Teddy Bears could not be moved. Getting these behemoths into the fight at Najaf took far too long. As MAJ Richard S. Takishita, the Army Multinational Coalition Forces-Iraq (MNC-I) C–7 (engineer plans) officer noted, “What should have been a twelve hour shuttle operation to Najaf took six days. Satisfying the call ‘engineers up’ had to be measured in minutes, not hours or days.” These mistakes could not be repeated at Fallujah.

The buildup for the long anticipated second battle for Fallujah had begun. Fallujah was roughly the size of Tampa, FL. Four Marine D9s were simply not enough. The senior Marine combat engineer colonel in Baghdad thus made his best case to the senior Army engineer general in Iraq. The Marines asked that 12 D9s be consolidated at Camp Fallujah, the main staging area for the upcoming battle. This meant giving up Army D9s to the Marines. This was a tough call for the Army, as their division major subordinate commanders did not want to relinquish this capability. But the Army C–7 engineer at Camp Victory, BG Robert A. Pollmann, backed by his Deputy, COL Joseph E. Chesnut, did the right thing. They even went a step further by offering the Marine Corps all of the 16 D9s in the Iraq theater. The senior Australian engineer at Camp Victory, COL Phillip Van Der Moezel, reminded the C–7 staff of the brutal lessons of Stalingrad in World War II, Hue City in 1968, and Grozny in 1994, 1996, and 2000. Pollmann added, “I’m giving you Marines all the D9s because I know you will use them to win.” With this outstanding support from the Army community, 12 D9s were consolidated at Camp Fallujah, while 4 reserve D9s were prepositioned on HETs at Camp Victory. On the eve of battle, heavy maintenance was performed on the D9s. Pollmann and Chesnut served notice throughout coalition forces that these D9s were no longer “bulldozers” but “urban assault breaching machines.” All other theater engineer bulldozer missions were assigned to standard D7s and D8s.

USMC D9 during battle of Fallujah, November 2004. (Photo by author.)

Extensive coordination took place as the MEF engineer at Camp Victory, Baghdad, channeled these D9s from all over Iraq to Camp Fallujah. It was not simply the challenge of obtaining the D9s but also of coordinating the HETs, maintenance, convoy protection, and operational security. At MNC-I Headquarters, LTC Art Free, U.S. Army engineers, and his Australian engineer deputy MAJ Joel Dooley, made sure this happened. Senior coalition headquarters in Baghdad did not want all of the theater D9s tipping off the enemy by descending at once upon Fallujah. They were brought in one and two at a time, where the MEF G–3 engineers established what became known as the I MEF “Assault Breaching Heavy Equipment School.”

In organizing for combat, the D9s followed closely the TTP shared by the IDF. Each D9 had a two-man crew; both qualified as operators, but with the second Marine focused as an assistant driver, communicator, and gunner. The dozers were to be employed in teams of two with flanking support from a section of M1 Abrams tanks; Marine infantry covered both. Combined arms support teams, breaching teams, and assault teams repeatedly exercised together. Engineers, tankers, and infantry continuously rehearsed together. A “combat town” area (including buildings to be demolished) was established near Camp Fallujah. Specific techniques in collapsing buildings were rehearsed, as were recovery operations by other D9s, M1 tanks, and M88 recovery vehicles. Field expedient improvements were implemented regarding communications, survivability, and mobility. Brilliantly customized 4-inch series square HESCO (Highland Exchange Service Cooperative of Britain) bastion steel cages were added to an angle iron frame around the cab of each D–9. With its standoff distance, this predetonated enemy RPGs. This innovative idea came from two Marine engineer SNCOs from Company C, 2d CEB, GySgt Earl W. Buckles of Sunbury, PA, and SSgt Ronald S. Gillaspie of Crown Point, IN. It worked in combat. Despite multiple enemy RPG hits during the battle of Fallujah, not one D9 operator was lost or one cab penetrated.

Each D9 was given a Marine combat name. To the original Golda, Ziva, Matilda, and Natasha were added a dozen more. Most were given roguish names by their Marine crews—“Lurch,” “Critter,” “Homewrecker,” “Gladiator,” “Scarface,” “Blitzkrieg,” “Apocalypse,” “Wolverine,” and “Earth Pig.” The four “ladies” in the Marine D9 reserve were “Julie,” “Joyce,” “Lynn,” and “Malinda.”

Capt James L. Zepko, the 1st MarDiv engineer, published a concise operational combat engineer plan for the infantry covering D9 tactical use. This was coordinated with pre-Fallujah Operation GRIZZLY and Operation QUEENS FEINT, devised to shape the battlefield by drawing the enemy prematurely into aerial and artillery kill zones. These worked as planned.

On the eve of the battle for Fallujah, two young D9 Marine operators exemplified the pride and motivation they had being Teddy Bear operators. When asked how they felt about taking the D9 into combat, LCpl James Denby, 2d CEB, of Rock Hill, SC, stated, “It feels pretty good. There’s not much that can stop it.” LCpl Daniel B. Gadd III, 2d CEB, shared this, “If anything gets in the way, my D9 will destroy it.” These Marines were primed.

The initial signal for the D9s to move out and attack south into Fallujah was initiated by mine-clearing line charges and joint direct attack munitions—big bangs. The intense tactical pattern over the next month of combat would be the same. Marine infantry moved forward identifying and engaging the enemy. Tanks and D9s were called up to deal with specific enemy strongpoints. Time and again D9s burst through walls to allow infantry the opportunity to safely enter a building at a point of Marine choosing. Enemy improvised explosive devices (IEDs) and most boobytraps were thus avoided, and the enemy within the structure was caught off guard. In one case a D9 penetrated a building and was directly confronted by the enemy. The dozer crushed them while the assistant driver hit them with automatic weapons fire. An enemy RPG detonated harmlessly against the D9.

Unmanned aircraft systems, such as the ScanEagle, documented the precision of these 1st MarDiv combat operations. As the two regimental combat teams (RCTs) (RCT–1 in the west and RCT–7 in the east) fought their way south, photos showed that D9s and M1 tanks stuck together in their predesignated sections and helped Marine infantry reduce Fallujah one block at a time. Throughout this methodical move southward, both of the RCT engineers, Capt Frederick W. Russell III, (Company B, 2d CEB, RCT–1) and Capt Georges T. Egli, (Company C, 2d CEB, RCT–7), did a masterful job of coordinating D9 assets where most needed. As Capt Russell later stated, “We had the D9s everywhere in the city.”

The tank company commander in RCT–1 was Capt Robert J. Bodisch, Company C, 2d Tank Battalion. His tanks were attached to 3d Battalion, 5th Marines (3/5) and 3/1. He stated that without question the D9 became the engineer equipment of choice over the armored D7 and M9 armored combat excavator. The infantry preferred the D9s for support because they could reduce the largest enemy structures in the shortest time and withstand small arms fire. This was particularly appreciated in the area known to Marines as “Queens,” where Capt Bodisch stated that the D9 was the only equipment capable of leveling enemy reinforced concrete structures.

The D9 Scarface saw a lot of action similar to other D9s. Detonating a “daisy chain” series of IEDs as it cleared a breach for RCT–7, the call from the supported platoon commander was repeated, “Scarface, are you okay? Are you okay? I saw you disappear in the explosion, and I thought you were wasted.” Chuckling, the crew calmly responded, “Sir, we are fine. Things are good.” Later in the battle, Scarface got the call from 1/8, “We need a hole in that wall!” Two Marines were casualties inside a building, and their squad was attempting to get them out. Scarface opened up the front of the building, and the Marines were successfully extricated. As the grunts pulled out, the squad leader told Scarface, “Make it a parking lot!” Scarface tore through to the far side of the building, collapsing it. This forced the enemy to flee outside where they were cut down by Marine infantry.

By the conclusion of the battle for Fallujah, many D9s were “down” mechanically (at least 7 of the 12 committed to action) due to the simple fact that the supply system could not get replacement fan belts. Iraqi debris ate fan belts. As one mechanic from Company C, 2d CEB stated, “There are not many places in Iraq that carry 106-inch fan belts and deliver to a frontline battlefield. And once your fan belt goes out, you are left with a 65-ton D9 paperweight.” Through Herculean efforts, Marine Corps mechanics were able to keep at least the remaining seven D9s running. Multiple tight strands of communications wire served as expedient fan belts. This was crucial, as infantry units were constantly requesting the Teddy Bears.

The D9 proved itself to be a robust piece of combat gear. Despite extensive use in horrible combat conditions with minimal maintenance, the Teddy Bears and their crews did their job. They faithfully responded to their fellow infantry and tank brethren who repeatedly called for them, “Engineers up.”

In January 2005, following the battle for Fallujah, MajGen Natonski, a D9 fan since he commanded TF Tarawa in 2003, stated:

The D9 dozer was a critical asset during the battle for Fallujah. Often at the point of our armored maneuver elements, it breached railroad berms, minefields, IEDs, cleared other obstacles, and collapsed countless buildings containing enemy insurgent positions. The D9 helped facilitate our attack and save the lives of our Marines and soldiers on the Fallujah urban battlefield.

The future of the D9 Teddy Bear dozer is uncertain in the Marine Corps. Those infantry, tankers, and combat engineers who have seen it in action love it. But its future will be up to others. As Marine operations focus increasingly on urban/MOUT environments, there will be a corresponding need for an urban assault breaching machine. Much like the M1 tank, when Marine infantry need a D9 dozer, nothing else will do. Col William F. Hatton, the I MEF engineer, reflected in January 2005:

Toward the end of the battle of Fallu-jah, there was considerable interest at high levels to get into the city and start reconstruction. Focus was on cleaning up and removing large amounts of debris. During one MEF staff meeting, the question was asked by the commanding general as to why the mighty D9 bulldozers could not be directed to this huge task of rubble removal. Without hesitating, LtCol Todd Kaminski, the G–3 engineer operations officer stated, ‘Sir, the D9s are not clearing rear area rubble because they are still involved in forward combat operations creating rubble.’

A toast to the venerable combat D9 Teddy Bear armored bulldozer. God bless our Marine infantry and the combat engineers who support them.

Decision-Advantage

The case for Marine Corps ISR enterprise transformation

The Marine Corps stands at a pivotal crossroads, a moment of profound transformation that will define its relevance and effectiveness in the 21st century. As the Service reorients to its naval roots, this shift is not driven by nostalgia but by the pressing demands of a changing strategic landscape. The challenge of great-power competition, particularly in the vast and dynamic Indo-Pacific region, necessitates a Marine Corps that is agile, lethal, and capable of thriving in contested environments. Through the foundational concepts of Force Design and Expeditionary Advanced Base Operations, the Marine Corps envisions stand-in forces that are maneuverable, low-signature, and persistently positioned within an adversary’s weapons engagement zone. These forces are not expeditionary in the traditional sense; they are designed to operate as the Nation’s premier crisis response force in the most contested environments on Earth.

These stand-in forces will serve as the linchpin for the Joint Force, providing a forward-deployed, combat-credible presence that creates opportunities for sea control and sea denial. By imposing dilemmas on adversaries, they will shape the operational environment before conflict begins. However, this ambitious strategy hinges on one essential capability: decision advantage.

In the fast-paced, information-saturated environment of modern warfare, the ability to out-see, out-think, and out-maneuver an adversary is decisive. To achieve this, the Commandant of the Marine Corps has set a bold vision: the Marine Corps will become the “JTAC [Joint Terminal Attack Controller] of the Joint Force.” This transformation positions the Service as a distributed, all-domain sensor network capable of finding, fixing, and enabling the targeting of enemy forces across vast distances. Imagine a small team of Marines dispersed across a remote island chain, detecting an enemy surface group and relaying targeting data to a submerged Navy Virginia-class submarine, enabling a stealthy, long-range Tomahawk missile strike. Picture another Marine element identifying a critical enemy command and control node, then cueing a cyber operator to conduct a non-kinetic attack. This is the future of combined arms—a seamlessly integrated joint force capable of delivering effects from any domain, at any time, in any place.

Success in this expanded role is not optional; it is essential for the survival of Marine Corps forces and the Joint Force’s ability to prevail. Achieving decision advantage requires a fundamental shift in the Service’s institutional mindset. Intelligence must evolve from a supporting effort to a prioritized warfighting function, driving operations and decisions at every level. The Marine Corps Intelligence, Surveillance, and Reconnaissance Enterprise (MCISRE) must lead this transformation, transitioning from a provider of information to the enabler of decision advantage. This is not merely a call for incremental improvement or bureaucratic reshuffling; it is a mandate for aggressive and decisive change.

Part I: The Unforgiving Battlefield
The era of uncontested American military dominance is over. For decades, adversaries have studied U.S. methods, identifying vulnerabilities, and designing their forces to exploit them. They aim not to meet the United States head-on in a symmetric fight but to dismantle the American way of war by targeting its reliance on information, extended logistics, and decision-making processes.

Modern battlefields are global and multi-domain, with no front lines or secure rear areas. Adversaries will wage persistent campaigns to induce paralysis and confusion, achieving their objectives before U.S. combat power can be effectively employed. This strategy, an all-domain ambush, attacks U.S. forces across every vector.

In the space domain, adversaries have demonstrated their ability to disrupt U.S. capabilities. China’s 2007 anti-satellite weapon test highlighted the vulnerability of GPS satellites, which underpin U.S. precision navigation and munitions. Adversaries are developing counter-space capabilities, including directed energy weapons and co-orbital jammers, to blind U.S. forces at critical moments.

In the cyber and electromagnetic domains, adversaries will target networks and infrastructure to disrupt deployments and logistics. The war in Ukraine has underscored the contested nature of the electromagnetic spectrum, with both sides adapting tactics and technologies to survive and operate. Rapidly closing kill chains by fusing intelligence from multiple sources has proven decisive.

In the information environment, adversaries are waging sophisticated disinformation campaigns to manipulate public opinion and undermine political will. These efforts exploit societal divisions, creating friction that can derail operations.

The pacing threat, China, is constructing a military meticulously designed to deny U.S. forces access to the fight and achieve its objectives without resorting to a traditional conflict. Their doctrine of Systems Destruction Warfare is a blueprint for inducing strategic paralysis. The goal is not just to sink a ship; it is to make a U.S. Navy admiral hesitate even to enter a contested sea. This doctrine is backed by a vast and multi-layered anti-access/area-denial network, an arsenal of long-range ballistic and cruise missiles, hypersonic weapons, and sophisticated sensors, all networked to contest and threaten U.S. ships, aircraft, and bases at unprecedented ranges. This military expansion is supercharged by a national strategy of Military-Civil Fusion, which creates a technological development cycle that threatens to outpace America’s innovation cycle. This hard power is coupled with a gray-zone strategy of coercion, using their maritime militia to enforce illegal territorial claims through persistent, aggressive action that stops just short of conventional war.

Meanwhile, the persistent threat, Russia, continues to refine its playbook of New Generation Warfare, a doctrine for creating chaos and dismantling a state from within. We witnessed its brutal application in the seizure of Crimea and see its continued evolution in the ongoing war in Ukraine. They skillfully combine electronic warfare, cyberattacks, deniable special forces, and political subversion to create a state of perpetual instability. Russia, guided by Chekist principles, considers the United States as the “main enemy” and is determined to undermine American influence globally. Russia has elevated the art of weaponizing confusion, significantly expanding the opaque fog of war.

Part II: An Honest Self-Assessment
A warfighting organization’s greatest strength lies not in its technology or doctrine, but in its ability to adapt swiftly to the changing character of war. The MCISRE is staffed by dedicated, intelligent, and patriotic Marines who are committed to the mission. However, they are constrained by a structure, culture, and set of processes that were designed for a different era. To achieve decision advantage and maintain operational relevance, the Marine Corps must critically examine itself and address four interconnected challenges with clarity and resolve.

The first challenge is the Marine Corps’ ability to sense in close and mid-range environments. To fulfill their role as the JTAC of the Joint Force, Marines must first understand their targets—their strengths, vulnerabilities, and the environment in which they operate. The current sensor architecture lacks the extended range, resilience, and persistence required for contested environments. The reliance on a limited number of high-demand, low-density ISR platforms has created vulnerabilities, as evidenced by the recently acknowledged “drone gap.” The divestment of organic platforms, such as the RQ-21 Blackjack, has left tactical units with critical ISR shortfalls, forcing them to rely on contractor-operated systems—a dependency that adversaries could exploit during a crisis. Stand-in forces, the centerpiece of the Marine Corps’ future warfighting concept, must be equipped with organic, low-signature tools to sense their environment without becoming electronic beacons for enemy targeting systems.

The second challenge is the MCISRE’s ability to transform data into actionable intelligence. On the modern battlefield, opportunities are fleeting. A mobile missile launcher may only be vulnerable for minutes. If the Processing, Exploitation, and Dissemination cycle takes hours, the opportunity is lost. This is not merely an intelligence shortfall; it is a mission failure for the Joint Force. Currently, analysts are forced to manually sift through vast amounts of data on disconnected, outdated systems, which limits their ability to produce timely insights. The MCISRE must modernize its tools and processes to turn raw data into actionable intelligence at the speed of relevance. Data that does not inform a decision is merely noise, and in combat, noise creates confusion and risks lives. Expanding efforts to integrate intelligence capabilities globally and equipping analysts with tools that can aggregate and correlate disparate data will be essential to producing opportunities for decisive action against adversaries.

The third challenge is the Marine Corps’ reliance on industrial-age training and manpower practices while trying to prepare for information-age warfare. This persistence reflects some of the Service’s most valued traits—loyalty and resistance to compromise—but also highlights vulnerabilities as the Corps reorients toward great-power competition. The mind of a Marine is the Corps’ greatest weapon. Yet, the deeply ingrained Taylorism of the personnel system impedes the growth and retention of top talent. Intelligence Marines are not interchangeable parts, and a loss of an experienced analyst cannot be offset by a recruit fresh from training. When a tech company offers a brilliant young corporal triple the salary to do the work he loves, the Corps loses not just a Marine but a critical warfighting capability that cannot be easily replaced. The Marine Corps’ Talent Management 2030 initiative acknowledges that the system is overdue for a fundamental redesign. Recognizing the evolving role of technical specialists is vital. In the 21st century, the Marine operating a keyboard to counter enemy networks in cyberspace plays a role as critical to mission success as the Marine on the front lines. Cultivating career paths and talent management processes that reward and retain our intelligence experts will ensure they feel as valued as proven combat leaders.

The fourth and final challenge is a modernization gap that places Marine forces at risk. The MCISRE has a key role in ensuring that our force development process equips Marines with capabilities required to meet the challenges of future conflicts, rather than focusing solely on incremental improvements to legacy systems. This raises an important question: Is the Marine Corps building the force for the war it will face, or is it polishing a relic of the past? Institutional processes for developing warfighting concepts must be continuously informed by intelligence about adversary capabilities. Without this, the Marine Corps risks designing solutions for yesterday’s problems. Additionally, assumptions about future conflict must be rigorously tested. New systems should be validated against thinking, uncooperative red teams that employ tactics and technologies reflective of real-world adversaries. A reactive approach to modernization, where countermeasures are developed only after adversaries exploit vulnerabilities, locks the Marine Corps in a perpetual cycle of playing catch-up. A force that fails to modernize based on a clear-eyed assessment of the threat is not modernizing at all—it is preparing for defeat.

A Call to Action: Forging a Decision-Centric Culture
The history of the Marine Corps is one of adaptation and triumph in the face of overwhelming odds. From the island-hopping campaigns of World War II to the counterinsurgency operations of the 21st century, the Marine Corps has consistently demonstrated its ability to evolve and overcome. Today, the transformation of the intelligence enterprise is not merely a bureaucratic initiative—it is a strategic imperative that will define the Marine Corps’ ability to prevail in future conflicts. This transformation is not the responsibility of a distant headquarters or a faceless bureaucracy; it is a collective effort that begins now, with every Marine.

To overcome the challenges outlined in this article, the MCISRE must lead the charge with bold and decisive action. Addressing the sensing dilemma requires the development of a resilient, multi-layered architecture of organic and national sensors that stand-in forces can employ with a low signature. These sensors must be capable of operating persistently in contested environments, providing Marines with the situational awareness they need to survive and thrive. This effort will require not only technological innovation but also a cultural shift that prioritizes sensing as a core warfighting capability.

Achieving sense-making at the speed of relevance demands equipping analysts with modern, AI-enabled tools that automate data processing and enable predictive intelligence. These tools must be designed to integrate seamlessly with existing systems, allowing analysts to focus on producing actionable insights rather than wrestling with outdated technology. The Marine Corps must also invest in training programs that prepare intelligence professionals to effectively leverage these tools, ensuring they are equipped to meet the demands of information-age warfare.

Winning the war for talent necessitates a fundamental rethinking of the Marine Corps’ approach to personnel management. Intelligence Marines are not interchangeable parts; their expertise is a critical warfighting capability that must be cultivated and retained. The Marine Corps must establish viable career paths for intelligence professionals, providing them with opportunities for advancement and recognition that reflect the significance of their contributions. This effort must be supported by a broader cultural shift that values technical specialists as integral members of the warfighting team, on par with proven combat leaders.

Closing the modernization gap requires embedding intelligence professionals and a red-teaming mindset at every stage of the force development process. New capabilities must be designed from the start to overmatch the threats Marines will face, rather than being validated against static requirements. This approach will require a willingness to challenge assumptions and embrace innovation, ensuring the Marine Corps remains one step ahead of its adversaries.

The stakes could not be higher. The character of war has changed, and the Marine Corps must adapt more intelligently and aggressively than its adversaries. The race for decision advantage has already begun, and it is a contest the Marine Corps cannot afford to lose. This transformation will not happen overnight, nor will it be easy. But with the dedication, ingenuity, and fighting spirit that have defined the Marine Corps for generations, it is a contest the Marine Corps will win.

>Ms. Schwendeman is an Intelligence Specialist in the Intelligence Integration Branch, Intelligence Division, under the Deputy Commandant for Information at Headquarters Marine Corps. She has supported the Marine Corps since 2010, first as a contractor and now as a civilian Marine. Before joining the Marine Corps, she served as an Intelligence Analyst in the Army from 2003 to 2010, where she supported operations in Iraq. She holds a Master’s Degree in Intelligence Studies.

Sensing in the Shadows

Integrating autonomous and human intelligence for decision superiority in the Pacific

Modernizing Intelligence for Distributed Littoral Operations
In April 2023, in response to former U.S. Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi’s 24-hour visit to Taiwan on 2 August 2022, the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) conducted a large multi-domain military exercise near Taiwan, simulating a “joint firepower strike campaign” that integrated long-range rocket artillery, unmanned aerial vehicle reconnaissance, electronic warfare, and space-based intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance (ISR). Chinese military officials emphasized compressing the sensor-to-shooter timeline to neutralize the enemy’s response before maneuver. The exercise revealed more than strategic signaling; the drills demonstrated a maturing strike architecture designed for contested littoral terrain. Without faster detection, assessment, and action, Marine Corps units operating forward risk being neutralized before engagement.1

To maintain forward presence and decision advantage in such an environment, intelligence professionals must reassess how they support maneuver forces. Force Design 2030 compels Marine Corps intelligence professionals to reconsider operational methods in the Indo-Pacific’s maritime battlespace. The environment—defined by long-range precision fires, persistent ISR coverage, and a rapidly evolving adversary kill chain—has rendered legacy intelligence models obsolete. Decision superiority requires integrating autonomous ISR platforms and human-derived reporting within a low-signature, real-time network optimized for distributed maritime operations.2

Adversary Targeting and the Operational Mandate
China’s PLA has developed a reconnaissance-strike complex rooted in the concept of “informatized warfare,” which prioritizes identifying, fixing, and engaging targets more quickly than adversaries can respond.3 The PLA employs space-based sensors, coastal radar arrays, cyber and electronic warfare units, and unmanned systems across all domains. Each capability reinforces a doctrine designed to paralyze opponents through persistent surveillance and precision engagement, rather than attrition.4

Marine forces operating within the first and second island chains now face a threat that challenges traditional maneuver. Force Design 2030 directs Marines to persist in contested maritime spaces and to sense, assess, and act in real-time while minimizing exposure to detection.5 Intelligence structures that rely on slow processing, hierarchical workflows, or bandwidth-heavy systems no longer provide a responsive or survivable foundation for operational decision-making.

Fusion at the Tactical Edge
Autonomous ISR platforms—such as long-endurance drones, loitering munitions, and seabed sensors—now deliver capabilities once reserved for national-level assets. Many operate with onboard AI, autonomously detecting, classifying, and prioritizing maritime targets. Intelligence Marines at the tactical edge fuse machine-generated data with human-sourced inputs—such as coastal reconnaissance updates or partner force reporting—and augment them with open-source intelligence. Commercial tools like synthetic aperture radar and Automatic Identification System vessel tracking enable Marines to monitor maritime activity without relying on national tasking cycles or bandwidth-intensive systems. Chinese analysts have tracked U.S. Navy surface combatants using free satellite imagery and wake analysis alone.6 Open-source Automatic Identification System feeds have also revealed the Chinese research vessel Zhu Hai Yun operating within 24 nautical miles of Taiwan’s east coast.7 In contested littoral environments where Marines often operate without persistent SATCOM or responsive access to classified systems, fusing autonomous sensors with open-source intelligence allows forward units to build decision-quality situational awareness and act independently within the commander’s intent.

For example, a Marine littoral regiment conducting island-based surveillance in Luzon might integrate commercial satellite imagery, signals intercepts from unmanned surface vessels, and local reporting from partner forces to develop a near-real-time maritime picture. The resulting fused intelligence can cue fires or prompt asset repositioning—all without higher headquarters intervention.

The war in Ukraine provides instructive evidence. Ukrainian forces used commercial drones, open-source tools, and mobile apps to close the sensor-to-shooter loop.8 Improvisation and decentralization enabled responsive targeting against a more heavily resourced opponent. Pre-dating Ukraine, Azerbaijani forces in the 2020 Nagorno-Karabakh conflict similarly leveraged ISR and loitering munitions to dismantle conventional formations, demonstrating that technological asymmetry, when paired with adaptive operators and mission command, can offset material inferiority. 9

Marine littoral regiments, as envisioned under Force Design 2030, require the fusion of autonomous ISR data with human-derived reporting to generate timely, actionable intelligence at the tactical edge. Tactical survivability and effectiveness in the Indo-Pacific depend on operating as semi-autonomous nodes within an integrated sensing and fires network. Intelligence sections must synthesize inputs from unmanned platforms, signal intercepts, and field observations into immediate tactical insight, independent of higher headquarters. Commanders must train Marines at the lowest echelons to operate as autonomous intelligence cells—fully empowered to support fires and maneuver without delay or dependency.

Signature Management as a Condition of Operations
Detection provides little advantage if it compromises the sensor’s survivability or cannot be acted upon rapidly and securely. A Concept for Stand-In Forces emphasizes that forward elements must extend the Joint Force’s reach while avoiding detection and classification.10 To remain survivable and effective in contested environments, intelligence elements must adopt low-signature sensing, passive collection, burst-transmission protocols, and electronic deception as routine features of the collection cycle.

Intelligence planners must design and employ autonomous systems with electromagnetic discipline. Operational value depends not only on what a platform can detect, but on whether it can do so without emitting a detectable signature or degrading friendly operations. Collection teams must train for communications-denied environments by mastering concealment, terrain masking, route selection, and sensor camouflage. Electromagnetic silence must become the tactical default—not the exception. Intelligence frameworks must abandon assumptions of persistent, high-bandwidth network access and instead prioritize survivability, latency management, and deception.

From Innovation to Doctrine
Marine Corps modernization must link technological development with doctrinal reform. While Force Design 2030 and the Stand-In Forces concept both emphasize decentralized execution and forward ISR capability, the current doctrine does not yet fully account for sensor saturation, cognitive overload, or the role of artificial intelligence in shaping battlefield awareness. Marine Corps doctrine affirms that intelligence is inseparable from operations—not subordinate—but functioning as a coequal warfighting function.11 Modernization must redefine intelligence’s role in maneuver and operational decision making—not merely focus on acquiring ISR systems. Intelligence must maneuver—not in isolation but as a fully integrated force enabler capable of shaping tempo, anticipatory action, and lethal fires.

Modernizing intelligence requires pushing ISR capabilities below the battalion level and training Marines across all occupational fields to collect information, conduct basic analysis, and report in support of maneuver. Intelligence responsibilities must become standard battlefield functions rather than duties confined to the intelligence community. Without an updated doctrine that reflects decentralized execution, new ISR platforms and analytic tools risk being misused or sidelined. When operational concepts lag behind available capabilities, tactical units lack the structure for effective employment. Gaining and maintaining advantage in contested maritime environments demands a doctrine that treats ISR as integral to maneuver—a core combat function, not a supporting task.

Conclusion: Intelligence as Maneuver
Marine Corps intelligence modernization must reflect the operational realities of the Pacific theater—prolonged exposure to peer ISR, contested littorals, and degraded communications. Gaining decision advantage requires integrating autonomous platforms with human-derived reporting in ways optimized for speed, dispersion, and electromagnetic discipline. Procuring ISR systems without adjusting doctrine, force structure, or training pipelines will yield technical capacity without tactical consequence. Intelligence overmatch depends on institutional commitment to treating intelligence as maneuver—training Marines to collect, assess, and act at the tactical edge, with the doctrinal authority to do so at the point of need.

>Sgt McCue is an Intelligence Analyst in the Executive Support Section, Information Intelligence Division, Office of the Deputy Commandant for Information. He has supported operations in the CENTCOM and INDOPACOM theaters, including deployments with SPMAGTF-CR-CC 19.2, the 31st MEU, and a Joint Task Force in Iraq. He is currently completing a Bachelor of Science in Legal Studies.

Notes

1. Kevin Kusumoto, “China Concludes Its Largest Military Drills Near Taiwan,” TRADOC G-2, October 10, 2024, https://oe.tradoc.army.mil/product/china-concludes-its-largest-military-drills-near-taiwan; and James E. Fanell, “China: Growing and Going to Sea,” Proceedings 149, No. 5 (2023), https://www.usni.org/magazines/proceedings/2023/may/china-growing-and-going-sea.

3. Gen. David H. Berger, Force Design 2030 Annual Update (Washington, DC: 2023), https://www.marines.mil/Portals/1/Docs/Force_Design_2030_Annual_Update_June_2023.pdf.

4. Kitsch Liao, “Informatized Wars: How China Thinks About Cyber,” American Enterprise Institute, March 15, 2022, https://www.aei.org/articles/informatized-wars-how-china-thinks-about-cyber/.

5. J. Michael Dahm, China C4ISR and Counter Intervention (Arlington: Mitchell Institute for Aerospace Studies, March 2024), https://www.uscc.gov/sites/default/files/2024-03/J.Michael_Dahm_Testimony.pdf.

6. Force Design 2030 Annual Update.

7. Christopher McFadden, “China Can Track U.S. Navy with Public Satellite Imagery,” Interesting Engineering, July 16, 2024, https://interestingengineering.com/military/china-tracks-us-navy-via-free-satellite-images.

8. Christina Lu, “Chinese research ships increase activity near Taiwan,” Financial Times, August 30, 2023, https://www.ft.com/content/0dfb94d7-e140-4d6c-97b9-18ec410d6a7c.

9. Harry Halem, “Ukraine’s Lessons for Future Combat: Unmanned Aerial Systems and Deep Strike,” Parameters 53, No. 4 (Winter 2023–24), https://press.armywarcollege.edu/parameters/vol53/iss4/4/.

10. Shaan Shaikh and Wes Rumbaugh, “The Nagorno-Karabakh Conflict: Lessons for Future Warfare,” CSIS, December 8, 2020, https://www.csis.org/analysis/air-and-missile-war-nagorno-karabakh-lessons-future-strike-and-defense.

11. Headquarters Marine Corps, A Concept for Stand-In Forces (Washington, DC: 2021), cited in Force Design 2030 Annual Update.

12. Headquarters Marine Corps, MCDP 2, Intelligence (Washington, DC: April 2023). (Foreword by Gen. Charles C. Krulak, USMC (Ret.), dated June 7, 1997).

DESERT SHIELD/ DESERT STORM— Ten Years Later

On 1 March the Marine Corps Association sponsored a PME session on the role of the Marine Corps in the Gulf War. The Association assembled a team of officers that had held key billets at the theater, division, wing, force service support group, and amphibious brigade levels. This article records their observations and compares them to the way I MEF does business today.

>Originally published in the Marine Corps Gazette, May 2001. The authors biography is available in the original edition.

Manning
In 1990, the I Marine Expeditionary Force (MEF) staff was not manned, trained, or equipped to be a warfighting staff. The 1st Division was clearly seen as the main effort of the MEF, and 3d Marine Aircraft Wing (MAW) and 1st Force Service Support Group (FSSG) were seen as simply supporting them. Until August 1990, the division commander was also the MEF commander and the component commander. It was only after the changes of command on 8 August 1990 that the MEF and division had separate commanders. Unfortunately, the MEF commander was dual-hatted also as the base commanding general (CG).

The MEF staff was relatively small and not configured to man the current operations, future operations, and plans cells that are standard in today’s MEFs. In fact, there were only six officers in the G-3 shop.

The professional military education (PME) highlighted three points that summarize the MEF’s lack of preparation to be a warfighting headquarters.

• First, the G-2 was not prepared to deal with a battlespace the size that a MEF has to fight. In fact, the G-2 had never heard of intelligence preparation of the battlespace. A team of Army officers came over to train the MEF—while they were on the ground in Saudi.

• Second, the MEF had no fires cell. They had to build one—mostly by taking Marines from the 2d MAW staff.

• Third, the MEF had never fought with a joint force air component commander (JFACC) running the air war for the commander in chief (CinC). All involved had to learn the procedures for getting the MEF aviation into the fight.

Corps Troops
A U.S. Army Corps has “corps troops” that provide the essential command and support functions necessary to fight at the corps level. They include a signals brigade, intelligence brigade, military police (MP) brigade, corps artillery headquarters (for counterfire role), corps support command, and other assets essential in multidivision operations.

In 1990, I MEF had only a single communications battalion, a radio battalion, an intelligence company, no MPs, no force artillery headquarters, and an FSSG that was really configured to provide direct support for the division rather than general support for a corps.

Today, Marines understand the need for corps-level troops and have planned accordingly. However, we have not bought significantly more structure. We can only get the number and type of corps units needed by drawing from all three Active MEFs, Marine Forces Reserve (MarForRes), and the Navy and Army Reserve/Guard units. To execute our operation plans (OPlans):

• MEF-level communications requires both 9th Communications Battalion and 6th Communications Battalion.

• The MEF requires assets from all active intelligence battalions, the radio battalions, Active and Reserve force reconnaissance, unmanned aerial vehicles, and the intelligence elements of MarForRes. Yet, a MEF has significantly fewer intelligence assets than an Army Corps or Numbered Air Force.

• I MEF is working with the Navy to establish a I MEF engineering group led by commander, 3d Naval Construction Brigade (NCB– Seabees). 3d NCB is composed mostly of Reserve battalions with an active duty nucleus. It provides the two star commander and staff necessary to deal with the extensive general support engineering assets (a division-sized organization) the MEF requires.

• The MEF force artillery headquarters is 14th Marines. Although currently configured as a divisional artillery regiment, it is working through the challenges of being the force fires headquarters for I MEF.

• MPs remain in short supply. Although II MEF is testing the concept of forming a single “functional” battalion by consolidating the MPs from the entire MEF, this represents a very small capability compared to the MP brigade assigned to an Army corps.

• The I MEF Augmentation Command Element provides Reserve staff augmentation, liaison teams, and a deployment support group to fill out the MEF staff. In addition, they provide the tactical headquarters for the rear area operations group that fights the MEF rear area battle.

Compositing
Compositing was one of the key issues identified by every speaker except the CinC staff member. (Compositing is defined as merging several organizations to make a single command. Task organization is defined as attaching and detaching complete organizations to existing headquarters.) All speakers agreed that in 1990 no doctrine or plan existed for compositing the Marine expeditionary brigades (MEBs). At that time, the Corps thought in terms of fighting MEBs and had full-time MEB staffs that were nearly as large as the very small MEF staff. An even greater problem was that while everyone knew you cannot fight multiple MEBs, they also knew that compositing meant entire units went away. The Marines of each MEB, like all Marines, had become very attached to their organizations. If the MEBs composited, organizational flags had to go away. General officers who had worked an entire career to command at this level were not anxious to see their commands go away just as the war started.

Since there was no plan, Marine commanders and staff were exploring options on the fly. One option, which was actually discussed, was to build a composite Marine division “Saudi Arabia” out of the 3d Marines (Hawaii maritime prepositioning shipping (MPS)) and 7th Marines (Pendleton MPS) with the division staff a combination of the elements of the brigade staffs and augments. In other words, rather than using the existing, organized 1st Marine Division staff, we actually considered building a new staff from scratch. Under such a plan, it is unclear how we would create a headquarters and service battalion and all its elements—communications company, motor transport company, MP company, reconnaissance company, and headquarters company. Fortunately, wiser heads prevailed and the division headquarters was brought over, intact, to conduct the fight.

The wing tried a different approach to compositing. The wing commander decided to beef up his first deployers, the Marine aircraft group (MAG) staff that deployed as part of 7th MEB. Then when the wing CG deployed, he brought only a small staff element with him and fell in on the MAG staff. Unfortunately, by the time the wing CG arrived with only 10 staff members, the augments he had sent ahead with MAG–70 had become critical members of the MAG staff and were fully employed running the MAG. The wing staff had to be rebuilt in theater.

In contrast, task organizing was not as difficult for the squadrons and groups due to Marine Aviation Weapons and Tactics Squadron One (MAWTS–1). MAWTS–1, as the lead trainer and developer of aviation tactics, had developed and taught standing operating procedures (SOPs) and tactics to each class. These standards had spread throughout the Corps. Therefore, it was much easier to composite squadrons into groups and groups into the wing than it was to rebuild the wing staff and headquarters.

The FSSG faced a somewhat different problem. Since they do not fight in their peacetime battalion structure, they must always composite. However, in peacetime, they usually composite from units in their own FSSG to support exercises such as the Combined Arms Exercise.

In Saudi, 1st FSSG had to initially composite from 1st Brigade Service Support Group (BSSG) from Hawaii, 7th BSSG from southern California, and 31st Marine Expeditionary Unit’s (MEU’s) service support group from Okinawa. To smooth the process, the FSSG CG went around and talked to each unit. He knew no one would like compositing, so he thought it was important that he explain the reasons for it. He then had to do it again when 2d FSSG showed up and had to be composited. At that time, 2d FSSG took on the role of general support while 1st FSSG took on the role of direct support to the divisions—obviously the assets had to be redistributed.

The 4th and 5th MEBs, being amphibious, faced even greater problems. They decided that compositing at sea would not work. In the future, Marine forces will have to composite before embarkation or download in theater, composite, and reload. Keep in mind that this will require concurrence from the Navy so that we have parallel Navy commands. This has significant implications for expeditionary maneuver warfare concepts.

A final caution was given for commanders and staff officers involved in a compositing process. Ensure you do not offend the commanders and staff members of the organizations being absorbed. You will have to work with them in their new jobs, and they may well end up on the staff of your next higher headquarters.

The consensus clearly was that compositing did not go smoothly and is not likely to do so in the future.

Today, with the advent of the embedded MEB staff, we do not really composite at the MEF level. Since the MEB is embedded in the MEF, when the MEF moves forward to reinforce the MEB, the MEB headquarters is simply reabsorbed into the MEF. All staff officers return to their regular MEF staff jobs, and the MEB CG becomes deputy CG of the MEF. Just as important, the key elements of communications, intelligence, etc. are reabsorbed into their parent units.

There are still two issues of concern for the MEF headquarters. First, the staff will require extensive augmentation which must be sourced worldwide. Therefore, at the same time the MEF is dealing with deploying and employing forces, it must absorb and train new staff members. In addition to staff augmentation, the Marine Corps will have to provide significant staffing to the JFACC, joint force land component commander, joint force maritime component commander, and the various coordinating boards run at those levels. Fortunately, we train for this during major exercises and have worked out the basic procedures.

Second, given that the MEF lacks sufficient “corps troops,” these elements will have to absorb forces of similar types from the other MEFs, MarForRes, Navy, and even Army Reserve and Guard forces. We practice this selectively in exercises but, unfortunately, we cannot afford to exercise entire units.

Like the MEF, the major subordinate commands will also have to absorb additional staff members to bring their staffs to wartime strength.

For the wing, MAWTS-1 continues to provide a common base to assist with the integration of squadrons and groups. At the wing headquarters level, regular participation in MEF-level exercises identifies the augmentation required. Often these requirements can be filled by Reserves during exercise. However, the regular augmentation normally comes out of the wing units. In wartime, these Marines will deploy with their units, and the billets they fill in exercises will have to be filled by active duty Marines from all over the Corps.

For division and FSSG, task organization remains a challenge. Current strategic lift limitations mean that the division and FSSG will be composed of elements from all four of the divisions and FSSGs in the Corps. The division and FSSG headquarters will flow intact but must be heavily augmented from worldwide sources. In addition, the regiments and battalions working for them will have to task organize based on the forces provided in the force flow.

Amphibious compositing remains a challenge. However, the OPlans designate the headquarters and forces for each plan. Thus we should not embark extra headquarters. The regiments, groups, and logistics elements know who they will be working for in the OPlans and can embark accordingly.

No Deliberate Plan or TPFDD
At the time the war started there was no written plan. The CinC had conducted an INTERNAL LOOK exercise early in the summer, but most of the Marines who had participated in that exercise departed in the course of the normal summer rotations. This, combined with the turnover of key commanders, meant the MEF had virtually no one with a good grasp of the plan or the theater.

The lack of a plan meant there was no bed down plan, no force modules, and no time-phased force and deployment data (TPFDD). This created a number of problems. Some are very obvious, such as Marine aviation elements being sent to Saudi with no idea where they would bed down. Others are not so obvious, such as sending too many “gunfighters” and not enough sustainers. Since the forces were not in “packages” that flowed combat forces with their combat support and service support, we had Marines who were thirsty, hungry, and out of gas. In fact, since the CinC stated he wanted gunfighters first, the MPS ships had to supply not only the Marines but the 82d Airborne, elements of the 24th Mechanized, and the 101st Air Assault Divisions until early October. In addition, the Air Force had not planned to provide tanker support for Marine self-deploying aircraft. This created a long delay in the deployment of Marine aviation.

The FSSG commander, who was in-country early, wanted force modules so that the forces arriving could be sustained as they fought, but with the Worldwide Military Command and Control System, it was not possible.

Today we have mature TPFDDs for all current OPlans. Even more important, the forces in the TPFDD can be divided into force modules so, in the event of an unplanned crisis, we can send a balanced, sustainable force immediately.

Operational Planning
Once the forces were deployed, the planning process created different challenges for the MEF. The war was being planned in three places—the Secretary of Defense’s office, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs office, and in theater. Complicating the overlapping efforts, the final plan could not be written until November when the National Command Authority finally added VII Corps out of Europe.

Despite extensive planning effort, the divergent philosophies of the air planners and the ground planners resulted in different approaches to the fight. The air campaign was tasked to set conditions for the ground campaign. However, the Air Force planners were working under Col Worden’s “Concept of Five Rings.” Therefore, the Air Force focused on the inner rings with intent to win the war with airpower. It was only Army and Marine complaints that gave birth to the Joint Targeting Coordination Board so that all components got their voice in targeting and the deputy CinC made decisions for CinC, not for JFACC.

The consensus of the participants in the PME was that there probably should have been a ground component commander with Marine and Army staffing to coordinate the ground campaign.

A major deficiency from the Corps’ point of view was a lack of Marine planners at the CinC level. GEN Norman H. Schwarzkopf brought in a team of U.S. Army School of Advanced War‑
fighting graduates to plan the ground campaign. The Air Force brought in a plans cell to plan the air war. There were no Marine planners in either cell.

Today, there are Marine planners on the CinC staffs. In addition, the component and the MEF send liaison teams to the next higher headquarters. Finally, the joint community has come a long way in both planning and execution with future operations cells, plans cells, and joint boards for targeting and intelligence collection.

Component Lessons
In 1990, the MEF commander was dual-hatted also as the component commander; however, the Corps had no doctrine, tables of organization or equipment for a component commander. Quite frankly, we did not know exactly how a component should function.

Early on, the Marine Corps had no representative at the CinC’s forward headquarters in Riyadh. Unfortunately, key decisions were made during this period. One of the outcomes was that I MEF had no battlespace assigned. It had a strip of land 12 kilometers wide along the coast of Saudi Arabia but did not own the airspace above it. In addition, host-nation support was divvied up before Marines had a significant say in the process with the obvious results. The MEF would spend the rest of the time in Southwest Asia trying to recover from this early oversight.

Even when I MEF did send a team to the CinC’s headquarters, it consisted of a single brigadier general, his aide, his driver, and one Arabic speaking major. Due to the culture of the other Services, the MEF still could not participate in the key decisions because all key decisions were made at the three star level. In the other Services, it is rank not billet that gets one into key discussions. Both the Army and Air Force had three star generals to attend. I MEF could not get to the three star table until LtGen Walter E. Boomer arrived in country.

Fortunately, we have come a long way in learning what componency entails. CG, Marine Forces Pacific (MarForPac)/Marine Forces Central Command (MarForCent) is the Marine component commander for the current major theater war OPlans. This will give us a three star officer and his staff at the component level from the very beginning of any conflict. Further, this staff participates in peacetime exercises and as a result knows their counterparts at MEF and the CinC staffs.

Unfortunately, the MarForPac/MarForCent staff remains a very small staff with very limited assets for such a major task. They will require extensive augmentation to execute both their deployment functions (working for CinCPac) and employment functions (working for CinC United Nations Command [Korea] or CinCCentCom).

One major improvement came as a direct result of the Marine Air-Ground Task Force Staff Training Program (MSTP) and the evolution of the MEF as a warfighter. Staff officers at the component and MEF level understand the MEF requirements for battlespace, logistics support, communications assets, etc., and are prepared to engage the CinC staff from the very beginning of any crisis.

FSSG Lessons
One of our deficiencies prior to the Gulf War was the lack of recognition of the requirement for two levels of logistics—tactical and operational. Prewar, Marines focused on tactical logistics—direct support to the division and wing. Unfortunately, we had not considered the operational-level requirement to coordinate and execute logistics across the theater.

During DESERT SHIELD, the FSSG worked it out on the ground by developing direct support and general support organizations. Since the war, this concept has been refined with the designation of a Marine Logistics Command (MLC) for each OPlan. The MLC will work directly for the component commander and be responsible for Marine logistics up to the MEF rear boundary. While planning and preparation are light years ahead of 1990, creating an MLC still requires taking an FSSG structured for tactical logistics and reorganizing it for operational-level logistics.

Compounding the FSSG’s problems in 1990 was the fact that our supply system simply did not work. The Supported Activities Supply System (SASSY) was a demand-based system and drew its information from peacetime databases. Clearly, demand changed entirely during the high-tempo training of DESERT SHIELD and the short but intense operations of DESERT STORM.

Today, the Corps is attempting to resolve the supply problems with the introduction of the Asset Tracking Logistics and Supply System II+, commonly known as ATLASS II+. Unfortunately, the system is currently funded only for II MEF. In addition, we have not resolved the problems of interfacing with the Marine Integrated Maintenance Management System and SASSY. The Corps hopes to solve these problems by transitioning to a web-based system.

The MPS concept proved brilliant in providing sustainment stocks immediately. Unfortunately, the concept was not executed well. We had no asset visibility for the stocks offloaded. It was taking one full manday to pull an item from the stocks. Marines literally had to open containers and find out what was in them. As a result, FSSG had to shut down supply operations for 10 days to rewarehouse the material from the containers to warehouses.

Even worse, the supply system was not credible to the Marines of the MEF. No one trusted it, therefore, everyone created their own parts block. When MPS units left southern California, they took most of the SL–3 components, tools, sets, and chests because they didn’t believe they would be there when they arrived. This not only greatly increased the lift footprint but also gutted the remain-behind equipment (RBE) that is an essential part of mobilization. Once in country, the hoarding continued. This resulted in shipping in more of everything because each unit kept extensive unit-level stocks.

Another point stressed during the PME was that there are things we do in garrison that we cannot do in the field. In combat, the FSSG must focus on getting fuel, water, ammo, and chow forward. We did not do as well on services such as post exchange (very important to tobacco users) and mail (up to 130 tons a day that would not have been delivered without the 60 doctors and nurses from Fleet Hospital who volunteered to help sort mail). Commanders must be ready for this deficiency.

A critical shortage was line haul transportation. While inter-Service agreements state the Army will provide this support, they are short of transportation assets themselves. Fortunately, the FSSG was able to contract “Saudi Motors” to fill this deficiency.

PME participants thought we should never do a major rebuild in the field—it creates too many problems. Instead, we must evacuate the component from the forward area to a support area with permanent buildings and rebuild it there. This will actually be faster and more reliable. The key requirement to execute such a plan is the availability of intratheater air.

The final comment was that we had too much equipment, too many echelons of maintenance, and too much stuff automatically delivered to the theater via the prepositioned war reserve program. To reduce these problems, we need to first reduce the number of echelons of maintenance. Next, we need to develop better logistics command and control in FSSG so we can see what we need, request only the needed material, and then track it in transit.

Today, the MLC remains one of the biggest unresolved questions in our OPlans. The functions it provides are vital, yet it is an additional duty to an already overtasked FSSG. We have developed the concept but are just beginning to test it in exercises.

Wing Lessons
In 1990, the 3d MAW was very good at deploying squadrons in support of the special operations capable MEU, or MEU(SOC), and unit deployment programs (UDPs). This was the wing’s mission, and they focused on it. Frankly, the wing did not train as a wing. At the time, the wing staff did not practice operating out of the tactical air command center (TACC). In fact, the wing G–3 stated that only the 7200s understood the TACC and what went on inside. Upon arrival in theater, the wing had to levy a tax of two officers per squadron to man the TACC. The DESERT SHIELD period provided absolutely essential time for the wing to train to fight as a wing.

The wing deployed with no intention of using an air tasking order (ATO). Quite simply, no one had used a theater ATO to run a war plan up to this point. Needless to say, the CinC’s decision to use the JFACC as his executive agent for the air war and the ATO as the primary tool caused some significant friction between the JFACC staff and the wing staff.

Some of the friction arose from the simple fact the Marine Corps had neither the manning to participate in the JFACC process nor the equipment to receive the ATO in digital form. 3d MAW developed work arounds to both problems but, again, the long preparation period prior to the war was essential.

One of the key inter-Service disagreements was how to measure success in use of aviation assets. The Air Force tends to measure efficiency and expresses it in terms of number of sorties generated. The Marine Corps measures effectiveness in terms of targets eliminated and sorties executed in support of the MEF. During the war, this created friction when the Air Force planners complained that the Marine sorties scheduled for close air support (CAS) but not flown should have been declared excess to the JFACC. The Air Force planners did not accept the idea that keeping aviation available for immediate response to the maneuver commander’s needs may be the most effective use of aviation.

A partial solution was the use of a CAS stack over each division. Aircraft moved to the CAS stack and loitered until employed. If not employed, they waited until relieved by the next section of CAS. They then moved forward to the “kill box manager,” who was fighting part of the MEF deep battle. While the Air Force agreed with the kill box concept, they did not like the idea of a kill box manager. They saw this as a diversion of aviation assets since the aircraft were controlling rather than striking. In contrast, 3d MAW saw the kill box managers as a very efficient and effective use of the sorties. The F/A-18D crews maintained situational awareness over the battlefield where they could quickly guide other Marine aircraft onto targets.

As mentioned in the section on componency, airspace was apportioned before I MEF arrived in theater. Therefore, I MEF did not own airspace over the divisions. To ensure Marine aviators were still able to respond quickly to Marines on the ground, 3d MAW kept aircraft airborne just off the coast. This was clearly a point of pride for Marine aviators.

Some other anomalies that created problems for the wing were:

• Separate rules of engagement (ROE) for over land and over water. The CinC never established a single theater ROE for aviation.

• A high-density airspace control zone was created to give Marines airspace over the divisions. However, JFACC would change it arbitrarily—3d MAW operators had to look at the special instructions each day to find out exactly what the altitude was.

• The “green” computers did not work. Since they were much slower, more expensive, and used proprietary software, they were not used in garrison. Therefore, they couldn’t be used in the war. Fortunately, the “white” computers worked very well. Bottom line recommendation was that when you deploy, use the gear you use in garrison.

• Best dressed, first out! Those squadrons with the most capable aircraft were requested first in the flow.

• The TAVB (aviation logistics support ship) is a great capability but was poorly used. Again, a lack of planning and exercising at the MEF level reduced the effectiveness of this exceptional asset.

• Since this was pre-MSTP, the Corps had not developed the single battle manager concept. As a result, many in the wing had the genuine feelingly that the MEF was “meddling in the fight.”

Division Lessons
The 1st Marine Division had a change of command on 8 August—6 days after the invasion of Kuwait. The heavy summer turnover also transferred almost all key staff members that had participated in INTERNAL LOOK.

Complicating the division’s deployment was the lack of a plan, lack of a TPFDD, the departure of the old MEF CG (which meant there was no base CG to supervise the absolutely critical base deployment support functions), and the uncertainty of whether the division was even going to deploy.

Like the wing, the division was also skilled in deploying battalions and detachments in support of the MEU(SOC) and UDP programs. They had not planned or trained to deploy the whole division. In the haste to get out of town, the division left the RBE in bad shape. Unfortunately, stripping the RBE slowed the deployment of the Reserve elements which had to draw the RBE as their “going to war” gear.

One thing the division discovered quickly was that Marine and Navy wives were critical to solving problems. Many Marines left their families without cars, driver’s licenses, paychecks, etc. The fact that there were no disgruntled Marine wives on TV complaining about the lack of support was due to efforts of other wives.

Upon arrival, the 1st Marine Division was given time to train in the desert. While the division headquarters finally deployed as a unit, the regiments had to task organize. Tanks, assault amphibious vehicles, light armored infantry (LAI), and engineers had to be integrated into regimental-sized tactical organizations. In addition, most infantry regiments had battalions from other regiments assigned to them. Each organization had to refine its SOPs and ensure that those battalions/companies joining from outside the regiment were familiar with them. The 51/2 months of training made the forces very tight. In fact, the relationship between LAI and the Cobras saved the lst Marine Division’s headquarters the night of the counterattack.

One tool the division commander used to smooth the integration of battalions into other regiments was a task force name. While the Marines from 1/5 might not think of themselves as part of 7th Marines, they did think of themselves as part of Task Force Ripper.

The divisions had to work out SOPs and procedures for tactical evolutions not addressed in peace-time training such as a regimental-level breach of an obstacle belt. Even the mechanics of terrain management for force lay down had to be worked out—for both sides of the breach.

The panelists cautioned today’s commanders to make sure they have air/naval gunfire liaison company (ANGLICO)-type units with any coalition forces next to them. In 1990, Special Forces provided liaison teams to the Saudis but were suddenly pulled out for “higher priority” missions. Fortunately, ANGLICO teams were with the Saudis the entire time so there was no break in communications between the Saudis and us.

Other items the presenters felt might be helpful to future commanders were:

• The use of artillery raids covered by Marine air, conditioned the Iraqis to be afraid of Marine air.

• The biggest problem in-country was communications. 1st Marine Division was spread out over 100km from nose to tail during the fight. 3d MAW provided a C–130 for communications relay. In addition, the division put a lieutenant colonel from division staff, who was intimately familiar with the plan, in the aircraft and invited the C-130 crew to all division sand table briefs.

• Commands must practice mobile command post (CP) operations. 2d Marine Division needed 2 trucks and 38 other vehicles for their forward CP.

• Once the fight started, 3d MAW provided the only reliable information from outside division concerning what was in front of the divisions.

• Do not bypass company-sized units, they caused too much disruption for CPs and logistics units following. Bypass platoon and below.

• Artillery units can not lift basic allowance (BA) of artillery ammunition with the designated ammunition trucks. The batteries had to take everything else out of every vehicle to move the BA.

• Personalities count! Don’t create friction by the people you place in key roles.

• The best intelligence the divisions received prior to the start of the war was a brief by LtGen Bernard E. Trainor, USMC(Ret). It was based on his observations of Iraqi forces as a journalist during the Iraq-Iran War. The key observation was that Iraqi units will fight if you attack from the front. They would not fight if you attack their flank or rear. Combat engineers were the Iraqis best combat arm. Artillery was the next best. Iraqi tactics called for building obstacles to keep the enemy in a fire sack then destroying them with artillery. The divisions used this information to develop their plans.

From left to right: LtGen Trainor, Gen Dake, LtGen Brabham, MajGen Jenkins, MajGen Myatt, LtGen Keys, and Gen Neal.

Amphibious Forces
The presenter noted that only 13 amphibious ships were provided per MEB. This is the same number for a MEB in today’s OPlans. As a result, each MEB needed an additional five foreign roll-on/roll-off ships to load the assault follow-on echelon. Then, since they had no instream offload capability, the MEB had to download in Jubayl and reload on MPS ships that had been withheld from the common user pool. This process took 6 weeks.

To simplify operations, big deck amphibs were designated for specific aircraft types—Harriers, CH–53s, CH–46s, and AH/UH–1s. This greatly improved both operations and maintenance.

The full MEB and amphibious group headquarters would not fit on an LPH or LHA. As a result, they had to create alpha and bravo command groups on different ships.

The MEBs never received an initiating directive or establishing directive. They were just told to load and go. They could not be combat loaded because they didn’t have a mission. Further complicating the planning was the fact that 4th MEB had to transit in three different groups because only four ships at a time could load at Morehead City, NC. Finally, the commanders could not communicate between groups as they crossed the ocean.

Command relations created additional problems. 4th MEB, 5th MEB, and 13th MEU had to work for the naval component (Fifth Fleet). Unfortunately Fleet staffs have very few amphibious sailors or Marines on the staff. The planning process simply did not go smoothly until the Marine Corps put a general officer and six-man staff at Navy Central Command (NavForCent) headquarters. Even this did not solve all of the problems since that general and his very small staff were also the liaison between MarForCent and NavForCent.

Summary
Since 1990, the concept of the MEF as the warfighter has matured in our Corps. The combination of the MSTP and major exercises such as ULCHI FOCUS LENS and INTERNAL LOOK have taught our MEFs to function as single battle managers. The same factors have driven the learning and growth of our Marine components. Out of necessity, I MEF has integrated the Reserves into all major MEF exercises and is a better warfighter because of it. Finally, the Corps is now a full player in the deliberate planning process and ensures Marine forces have the lift to get to the fight and the battlespace to fight as a MAGTF when they get there.

Clearly our doctrine is good and getting better. Our training has improved dramatically. Yet this PME reminds us that we still have areas that need work. Our Corps has solved many of the problems I MEF encountered in 1990 but not all of them. The speakers at the PME provided the guidance and the challenge, it’s up to today’s Marines to accept it.

>At the conclusion of the PME, LtGen Trainor, as moderator, asked each presenter to provide a single piece of advice to Marines who may have to fight a MEF in the future. This is what they said.

• Gen Richard I. Neal: Be doctrinally sound but not bound. Flexible and adaptable. Know doctrine of guys on right and left.

• LtGen William M. Keyes: Small unit leadership remains heart of Corps. NEVER think we will get another fight with so few casualties.

• MajGen James M. Myatt: Study your profession. Don’t try to do other guy’s job. Trust each other.

• MajGen Harry W Jenkins: Teach Navy brothers.

• LtGen James A. Brabhams: Relationships between commanders are more important than command relations.

• Gen Terrance R. Dake: It’s come as you are. Be ready for it.