Principled Warfare V: The Conclusion

Hello all, and sorry for the delay in getting to this final installment. It's been a busy two weeks, and as much as I enjoy writing these for you, you lost out to visiting my wife and kids for a few days. But, I'm back, and finally ahead enough in my classwork to get back to the topic of the Joint Operating Principles, and what we can learn from them when studying military history. A reminder, you can find the previous posts in this series here, here, here, and here. Read them and catch up if you haven't, as I am not going to rehash the details I've already covered.

Let me start by first responding to a comment received on installment 4, from Lasse:

A very interesting read.

However if anyone with anything to say in the military, had ever studied either Jomini or Clausewitz for other than mere amusement, we would never have experienced an Iraq invasion. I do not mention this example to make any political statement whatsoever, I am just giving words to the obvious and objective.

One can only conclude, that in our day and age wars are not waged by educated people. The soldiers and officers might be, but it doesnt matter, at the end of the day.

With this insight its even more interesting to read this article. Gives it more dimension and perspective. Makes one think. 

Thanks for the comment, Lasse. It certainly does make one think. You say you're not mentioning this example to make any political statement, but let's be honest--there's nothing NON-political about it. It's extremely political, and as an active-duty US Army officer with my name signed to this blog entry, I've got to be careful in how I respond. But it does deserve a response, and not just in the comments section where no one will read it. 

First of all, I can attest that people in the military study Jomini and Clausewitz, because I'm in a school (ILE) doing the very thing right now. This series of blogposts fulfills a class requirement, in fact. And from the looks of my classmates when we come into class in the morning after reading Clausewitz, I might be the only one who WOULD read it for amusement. Our entire military institution is founded on a combination of Clausewitz and Jomini; to this we add the experiences of the US Civil War, the Prussians, the World Wars, and everything since. The statement that "wars are not waged by educated people" is patently ridiculous, and highly insulting, considering one of those people is the person to which you are responding. It's a valiant effort to caveat it by saying "the soldiers and officers might be", but it falls short. Way to paint with a broad brush, and to say your statement isn't political is disingenuous, at best. It's extremely political, and there are much better ways to refine and express your viewpoint than calling the military a bunch of idiots. 

THAT SAID--and here's where I have to be careful, with government rules and all--it's perfectly valid to criticize the decision to go to war in Iraq as a failure to adhere to Clausewitzian thought. There were certainly plenty of people who raised doubts, chief among them Secretary of State Colin Powell. However, the biggest blunder, in my opinion, wasn't whether or not to go into Iraq--that's a different question, and is exactly the political discussion I'm not going to go into, because it's not the purpose of this blog. The biggest blunder was not understanding what our endstate should be, and what would be required to get there. In that, we failed to adhere to several Principles--most agregiously, Objective. Considering the 3 new Principles (Legitimacy, Restraint, and Perseverance) were added AFTER the Iraq and Afghanistan experiences, they're obviously the military's response to lessons learned from failures in those two campaigns. 

Guderian feels your pain, Lasse.

The problem with the decision to go into Iraq is not that military leaders did not study Clausewitz--they did, and many brought up the appropriate objections. But here's where Clausewitz really shows us what happened--because as he says, war is a continuation of policy by violent means. If the policy is bad, then it doesn't matter how well the warfare is conducted. And that is the root of the issue, and why this CANNOT be separated from politics. Ask the Wehrmacht in WWII, they know very well--great operational and tactical army that lost because it's political leader decided to fight on two fronts and meddle in plans. I am not comparing the US political leadership to Hitler, let's be clear--but simply using that as an easy example of misguided strategic objectives derailing capable military action from the get go. Bottom line--I have no idea if President Bush and SecDef Rumsfeld studied Clausewitz. I would bet that at some point they did. But no matter how much you study something, there's the possibility that you might make decisions that conflict with it.


Anyways, thanks for the comment, despite the jabs you may or may not have intended at me, Lasse. It's no coincidence that US Military doctrine has changed dramatically over the last decade since we began the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. If anything, I would hope that the fact that the new principles are now institutionalized and being taught in military education should give you some hope for the future.  

Back to the topic at hand, which is Japanese history and the Joint Operating Principles. I promised you a case study to try to tie them all together and demonstrate how they work in an analytical context. I also said you'd never guess what case study I'd choose...

....so if you predicted "Hideyoshi's invasion of Korea", give yourself a pat on the back. I'm guessing a grand total of ZERO podcast listeners and blog readers guessed that one. I was thinking about going with Nagashino, as that's my pet project and would be easiest for me. But there are rumors that people are tired of hearing about Nagashino...I know, how could that be, right? Still, I thought a change of pace might be nice, so here you go. 

  (CAVEAT: This isn't meant to be a detailed argumentation of the Imjin War, and I didn't do a ton of research to come up with this chart, so the facts are what I have in my head. That's not the point--the point is to demonstrate how this should be used, not to say one thing or the other about the Japanese invasion of Korea. Don't deluge me with comments on "oh, but Kato Kiyomasa's force did X, which is different than what you said in part Y". When I do this as an appendix to my book on Nagashino, you can pick it apart. For now, roll with it and appreciate the greater point. For more on the Imjin War, check out Obenjo's 2-part interview with author Samuel Hawley, here and here.) 

I won't go into the specifics of what I threw into each block in the chart, but as you can see, I broke the Japanese invasion of Korea (1592-1598) into the three Levels of War (Strategic, Operational, and Tactical) and looked at each Joint Operations Principle in those areas. I then rated the Japanese performance in each Principle based on my assessment of how it worked out for them. Red is obviously worst, Green best, and Yellow means there was good and bad. Looking at the charts, two things stand out to me. 

Hideyoshi studies the map with his generals. Was he the weak link?

1. If you look at the old 9 Principles of War, Japan did fairly well at the tactical level, and decently at the operational level, with only Unity of Effort really suffering from the rivalries between different field commanders (primarily Kato Kiyomasa and Konishi Yukinaga, though there were others). What really hurt them, if you stick to the original 9 Principles, was the strategic level--in other words, the Wehrmacht also sympathizes with Hideyoshi's field commanders. 4 of the 9 Principles (Maneuver, Objective, Security, and Surprise) get a red rating from me, and only 2 (Offensive and Unity of Effort) get greens--and those could be argued pretty easily. Much like Germany in WWII or France in the Iberian Campaign of the Napoleonic wars, Hideyoshi's army was superior to their Korean and Chinese foes at the tactical and operational levels, but failed miserably at the strategic level, setting his objectives way too large without really understanding the magnitude of what "subduing all of China and becoming the Chinese emperor" really entailed. Certainly some blame lies with his CIA chief. 

2. Looking at the 3 new Principles of Joint Operations (Legitimacy, Restraint, and Perseverance), these were red across the board for the most part. And considering we in the US military are just now making them a part of our doctrine, this isn't surprising. After all, it is not as if anywhere at this time saw the exercise of Restraint as part of it's official military posture. The violence of the Thirty Years War in Europe was testament to that on that side of the world. Legitimacy was important to Hideyoshi's domestic political power (as we discussed previously), but he didn't exactly need to justify himself to the Korean people in order to take over their country, at least not in the context of the day. 

Mimizuka in Kyoto, where the captured body parts of Koreans are buried

And yet...I can't help but wonder if some attention had been paid to these factors, perhaps Hideyoshi's road would have been a little easier. Rather than simply decide he wanted to invade China, and oh by the way Korea you're going to help me or we'll kill you first, what if he had legitimate reasons (abuses by Chinese government against Japanese traders, perhaps) to go to war with China? Korea might not have offered to serve as a highway for the Japanese, but the political response might have been different. What if, instead of collecting ears and noses from Korean prisoners to ship back to Japan as evidence of martial prowess, the Japanese commanders had, I don't know...shown some compassion and Restraint in their dealings with the local populace, perhaps even implementing favorable taxation and agricultural/economic reforms compared to their rule under the Korean court? Is it conceivable that the Korean peasantry and local land holders would have decided life under the Japanese was better than under their own king? Nationalism in most places was not a strong concept, so assuming loyalty to the Seoul court by Korean farmers in the Pusan area may not be accurate. Finally, what if Japan had the domestic will to Persevere in the Korean conflict and continue the fight after Hideyoshi died? The Japanese domestic political situation makes this highly unlikely, but had Hideyoshi had a strong succession instead of the boondoggle that occurred, it might have led to a Japanese/Korean version of the Hundred Year's War. Or not--but the point is that consideration of these factors, even though we don't expect to see them in 16th century warfare, is interesting--if only to highlight how different our ideas of warfare are today. 

Does this exercise tell us the exact reasons the Japanese invasion of Korea failed? No, not in detail--but it suggests places to look, and that's the point. Military professionals (systematically since the time of Clausewitz, Jomini, and the Prussian War Academy model was adopted by everyone in the late 1800's) study military history to identify trends and understand principles in order to better fight and win their nation's wars. As Lasse points out in his comment, sometimes we can do this better, and we have to learn from those times. As a historian, however, you can flip the model around and learn the weaknesses, strengths, and the why of success and failure in historical examples. The Principles of Joint Operations, even those Principles recently made part of the doctrine, are useful as an analytical tool not just in planning future military operations, but in examining those of the past. Let's face it, as my history professor here at ILE says constantly: history echoes and history rhymes. The operations in Iraq and Afghanistan are not the first time larger armies have had trouble with insurgencies: Vietnam, French Algeria, the Philippines at the turn of the 20th century, the US Civil War, the Iberian Campaign in the Napoleonic wars, the US Revolutionary War...and (relating back to Japanese history) the Ikko Ikki fighting Nobunaga, the campaigns of Kusunoki Masashige, and even the Bakumatsu period pro-Meiji revolution are all examples of successful and unsuccessful insurgencies. I'll join Lasse in his criticism of the military's study of history--there really shouldn't be anything "new" about Afghanistan or Iraq, because we've seen it all before. I won't be pretentious enough to say we've learned our lesson, because history shows that eventually we'll forget it again. However, the more we study it, the easier it will be to remember it when the time comes. 

Thanks all, hope you've enjoyed this series. Try looking for these Principles in other places--for instance, do you ever get tired of seeing the same commercial 15 times in the span of a 1 hour television show? That advertising agency is practicing MASS, betting that even though you are annoyed (or because of), you'll remember the product. I'll be back eventually with another series, I'm sure, but in the meantime feel free to comment (and Lasse, I'm just picking on you--seriously, I do appreciate the comment) and keep the discussion going, but keep it civil. 

And with that, mata ne!

The above comments represent the views of the author only, and should not be interpreted to represent the views or official position of the United States Army or the Department of Defense. 

MAJ Nate Ledbetter
Intermediate Level Education Class 12-002
Staff Group D
Fort Gordon, Georgia

Principled Warfare: Episode 3: The Three S's

Well, folks—sorry for the few day delay, but our series on the 12 Principles of Joint Operations is back with Episode 3: the Three “S”’s : Security, Surprise, and Simplicity. Somehow I get the feeling we’ll be talking a whole lot of Okehazama today…let’s get to it, shall we? The previous two installments can be found HERE (Objective, Offensive, and Mass) and HERE (Maneuver,Economy of Force, and Unity of Effort).

Security

(1) The purpose of security is to prevent the enemy from acquiring unexpected advantage.

(2) Security enhances freedom of action by reducing friendly vulnerability to hostile acts, influence, or surprise. Security results from the measures taken by commanders to protect their forces. Staff planning and an understanding of enemy strategy, tactics, and doctrine enhance security. Risk is inherent in military operations. Application of this principle includes prudent risk management, not undue caution.[1]

The need for security in military operations should be fairly evident. Surprises, especially those that shoot at you, are not good things on the battlefield (and that’s leading to the next principle, but we’ll get to that). As the first bullet says, security is about preventing the enemy from getting the drop on you. Sometimes, this is done through intelligence, i.e. finding out what the enemy is going to do before he does it, so you can counter it. Sometimes, it’s done through maneuver (see, they all flow together), putting yourself in position to take advantage of enemy weaknesses.

Yoshimoto never really liked rain anyways.

I’ll go more into security and its relationship with other principles in the final post in this series, but the simplest way to demonstrate it is to look once again at Okehazama. Imagine you’re Imagawa Yoshimoto in command of your 25,000-man army. You’ve got piddly little Oda Nobunaga in front of you with maybe 2,000 men, and your vanguard under this young Matsudaira Motoyasu kid has already taken some of Nobunaga’s forward fortifications. You’re going to blow through Owari pretty easily. It’s getting to be the middle of the day, and you’re kind of hungry. There’s no hurry, as Nobunaga’s probably just going to hide in his castle. The question is really will he die there or surrender to you? Anyways, it’s lunch time, so let’s just park the HQ here and start eating, shall we? And so you do, and a little while later a fight breaks out amongst some of your men…perhaps someone had a little sake with their lunch and things got out of hand…hey, why is that samurai running this way with his sword drawn? “You, there, stop!”…he’s not stopping…oh crap he’s an Oda samurai!!

We all know the basic story—Yoshimoto stops and is so confident he doesn’t really mount a guard force. Nobunaga’s much smaller force swoops in under the cover of a rainstorm and takes out Yoshimoto and his headquarters. Yoshimoto’s problem? No security—apparently he didn’t feel the need for a security perimeter of guards to give him early warning before Nobunaga’s attack.

Surprise

(1) The purpose of surprise is to strike at a time or place or in a manner for which the enemy is unprepared.

(2) Surprise can help the commander shift the balance of combat power and thus achieve success well out of proportion to the effort expended. Factors contributing to surprise include speed in decision-making, information sharing, and force movement; effective intelligence; deception; application of unexpected combat power; OPSEC; and variations in tactics and methods of operation.

This is another principle that should be fairly obvious to understand. Anyone kid armed with a water gun knows that you have to sneak up on the other side to get them before they get you. As the second bullet says, surprise can shift the balance of power—and it’s the other side of the coin when discussing security. Nobunaga, as we discussed just before, had a vastly inferior force to the Imagawa army that confronted him at Okehazama. However, he did what was unexpected, attacking instead of hiding in his castle, and took the Imagawa unaware.

We won’t go into too much detail, but all of the factors in bullet two played into Nobunaga’s favor. Nobunaga made a quick decision on how to react to Yoshimoto’s invasion; he gave orders on where to attack the enemy (shared info); moved his force through concealed routes; had a clearer picture of what was going on thanks to scouts and knowledge of the area; placed banners and flags at a dummy position and maneuvered without them (deception); appeared “out of nowhere” to attack Yoshimoto’s HQ; kept his plan concealed even from his closest commanders until the last second (OPSEC—Operational Security); and all of these are examples of tactics that deviated from the norm.

You know what else is a surprise? That all samurai generals apparently were members of a boy band.

Surprise isn’t always this dramatic—it can be something much less spectacular than attacking out of the blue like at Okehazama. But surprise gives one side significant tactical advantage that can only be countered with due attention to security.

It also applies to the operational level of war—Akechi Mitsuhide counted on having some time after eliminating Oda Nobunaga at Honno-ji to consolidate his control. That Toyotomi Hideyoshi was able to disengage from the Mori, much less do so quickly enough to be back in the capital area and defeat Mitsuhide at Yamazaki less than 2 weeks later, is a good example of operational surprise.

Simplicity

(1) The purpose of simplicity is to increase the probability that plans and operations will be executed as intended by preparing clear, uncomplicated plans and concise orders.

(2) Simplicity contributes to successful operations. Simple plans and clear, concise orders minimize misunderstanding and confusion. When other factors are equal, the simplest plan is preferable. Simplicity in plans allows better understanding and execution planning at all echelons. Simplicity and clarity of expression greatly facilitate mission execution in the stress, fatigue, fog of war, and complexities of modern combat, and are especially critical to success in multinational operations.

Simplicity is the military version of Occam’s Razor, or, alternatively, the Keep It Simple, Stupid (KISS) Principle. Ultimately, no matter if you’re using swords, guns, or UAV’s, warfare is conducted by people (at least until 2020, when Rock’emSock’em Robots become the preferred method of settling international disputes). People make mistakes, especially under pressure—when what Clausewitz calls “friction”, or what we know now as “Murphy’s Law” happens. The more complicated your plan is, the more steps there are to make it work, the more things that can go wrong to derail it, and the more details there are for a subordinate to forget. The simplest solution is the best solution 9 times out of 10.

 

The 4^th Battle of Kawanakajima is a good example of simplicity done wrong. We’re all familiar with the Takeda’s genius plan “Operation Woodpecker”, supposedly concocted by either Yamamoto Kansuke, Baba Nobuharu, or the two of them together, in which the Takeda split their forces and attempted to maneuver around the Uesugi positions on hills to the north and attack them from behind with one force, forcing the Uesugi to run down the hill into the waiting spears of the other Takeda force. Great plan, but it was a tad bit too complicated to execute—especially the timing of it. Unfortunately for the Takeda, the Uesugi had designs of their own and moved off the hills while half the Takeda army was trying to go around them. The Takeda were faced with the entire Uesugi army charging down on them, with half of their own army actually moving away from the battle. Desperate fighting saved the Takeda from complete collapse before the detached force could arrive back on the battlefield, but the complicated plan opened an advantage that the Uesugi were able to exploit. Historians are divided on who (if anyone) “won” at 4^th Kawanakajima, but it’s fairly obvious that the Takeda took the worst of it, due in no small part to out-thinking themselves.

Well, that’s it for this installment. Next time, we’ll look at the three relatively new additions that the US military has added based on experiences in Iraq and Afghanistan, among others: Restraint, Perseverance, and Legitimacy. We’ll see whether or not these also fit in a Sengoku context. See you then!

The above comments represent the views of the author only, and should not be interpreted to represent the views or official position of the United States Army or the Department of Defense. 

MAJ Nate Ledbetter
Intermediate Level Education Class 12-002
Staff Group D
Fort Gordon, Georgia
 

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[1] Department of Defense. Joint Publication 3-0, “Joint Operations” Washington, D.C.: 11 August 2011. Pg. A-4.

Principled Warfare II: Samurai Combat Done Right (And Wrong)

Welcome to installment 2 of our 5 part series on the Joint Operating Principles and their application to pre-modern Japanese warfare. Go here for the Introduction and Part One of the series, where I examined the Principles of Objective, Offensive, and Mass. Today we’ll look at Maneuver, Economy of Force, and Unity of Command. Since I already did the explanation of what we’re doing in the first post, I’ll just jump into it today.

Maneuver

(1) The purpose of maneuver is to place the enemy in a position of disadvantage through the flexible application of combat power.

(2) Maneuver is the movement of forces in relation to the enemy to secure or retain positional advantage, usually in order to deliver—or threaten delivery of—the direct and indirect fires of the maneuvering force. Effective maneuver keeps the enemy off balance and thus also protects the friendly force. It contributes materially in exploiting successes, preserving freedom of action, and reducing vulnerability by continually posing new problems for the enemy. [1]

Every military commander wants to be in the best position to attack and destroy the enemy. Sometimes that means moving around to the side or rear and surprising him; sometimes it means getting to a certain place, like the defensible high ground, first before the enemy so you have the advantage that location gives you. The way this is done is through maneuver, which as the second bullet says is moving in relation to the enemy to gain the advantage. Like in a wrestling (or judo, or whatever) match, you want to pin your opponent and prevent them from escaping while at the same time being free yourself to move how you want.

The first example for maneuver that we’ll look at is the engagements between the Uesugi and Takeda at Kawanakajima. While everyone remembers the violent and bloody 4^th Battle of Kawanakajima in 1561, it is important to keep in mind that the two sides faced off at the same location three times before that (1553, 1555, 1557), and one time after (1564). In each of these other contests, the opposing armies withdrew after posturing and minimal combat. What was the difference between these four engagements and the 1561 battle? Maneuver...or rather, lack thereof.

In the first three engagements, both sides arrived at Kawanakajima (a plain in northern Shinano province, which now is the location of Nagano City) and took up defensive positions on high ground on either side of the plain. The terrain is such that neither side could venture into the center without exposing itself to attack, and neither side could determine a way to maneuver around the enemy’s flank without abandoning its defensive position. Consequently, after sitting for a while and watching each other, both Kenshin and Shingen would realize the other wasn’t going to make a mistake and move, and so they would retreat to conduct operations elsewhere.

Takeda Forces Maneuver Across the River at Kawanakajima

4^th Kawanakajima, however, is different, because at the 1561 contest, one side concocted a scheme to tactically maneuver and gain an advantage. It’s interesting to note that the sides in this engagement were quite larger (20,000 Takeda vs 12,000 Uesugi, about 40% more on each side) than previous battles. Why is this important? Because with 20,000 troops, Takeda Shingen had enough that he felt he could split his force in two, maintaining some defense on the hills to the south of the Kawanakajima plain while maneuvering a force around the hills the Uesugi occupied to the north, attacking them from the rear and catching them between his two forces. He understood he needed to move his forces, or maneuver, to put them in a position of advantage relative to the Uesugi. 

Unfortunately for Shingen, Uesugi Kenshin saw what he was doing, and also maneuvered his force to take advantage of the situation. Kenshin moved under the cover of darkness from his positions on the high ground down to the valley below and attacked Shingen’s weakened position, almost overrunning it before the detached force that was supposed to surprise the Uesugi arrived to salvage what was becoming a Takeda defeat. Historians debate who was the victor in this battle (for the record, the Uesugi clearly won a tactical victory in my eyes, as they destroyed a higher percentage of the Takeda force than they lost, and defeated Shingen’s tactical plan), ultimately it doesn’t matter as the end operational and strategic result was the same as the previous battles—both sides retreated with no strategic or operational gain. The 1564 battle was a return to the previous pattern, with both sides setting up defensive positions, observing the other side, and eventually withdrawing. I guess Shingen and Kenshin had learned their lesson three years previously.

Fighting at Yamazaki, 1582

Another example of maneuver (among other things) winning a battle is the 1582 Battle of Yamazaki between Hashiba (later Toyotomi) Hideyoshi and Akechi Mitsuhide. If you’ll recall, Mitsuhide had just assassinated Oda Nobunaga, hegemon of central Japan, 13 days earlier and effectively controlled the capital of Kyoto. No rivals were in position to stop his takeover, as they were all engaged fighting Nobunaga’s campaigns in other theaters. Hideyoshi completed a hasty peace with the Mori, whom he was beating pretty badly at this point, and rushed his forces back to the capital region to engage the Akechi. While we can travers his route from the Okayama area to Kyoto now in an hour or two on the bullet train these days, for him to end fighting, negotiate a peace settlement, and turn his 20,000 man army around and march them all the way to Yamazaki to encounter Mitsuhide’s force is staggeringly impressive. His ability to maneuver completely took Mitsuhide by surprise and gave him considerable advantage.

At the tactical level, maneuver played a huge part at Yamazaki as well. The battle began as a race to the promontory of a mountain, as each side recognized that holding the high ground would be key to deciding the battle. Without going into too much detail, forces under Hideyoshi got their first, claiming the terrain and putting the Akechi forces at a distinct tactical advantage.

Economy of Force

(1) The purpose of economy of force is to expend minimum essential combat power on secondary efforts in order to allocate the maximum possible combat power on primary efforts.

(2) Economy of force is the judicious employment and distribution of forces. It is the measured allocation of available combat power to such tasks as limited attacks, defense, delays, deception, or even retrograde operations to achieve mass elsewhere at the decisive point and time.

This Principle boils down to using the bulk of your resources to accomplish those key tasks necessary for victory, and not on things that have little or no effect on the success or failure of the operation. To do otherwise is wasting your efforts. Consider attacking an enemy castle: if you have good security and are not worried about enemy forces coming from elsewhere to attack you from the rear, you would not leave half of your force to guard your supply train. A few soldiers left behind to raise any warning necessary and watch your horses would suffice, while the bulk of your army attacks the castle, to put the necessary mass (see, they all relate) in position (i.e., maneuver) to exploit the weak points in the enemy’s defenses. 

Ueda Castle, where Tokugawa Hidetada wasted time and did not practice Economy of Force!

Economy of force is perhaps best described through an example where it failed. During the 1600 Sekigahara campaign, Tokugawa Ieyasu charged ahead west with his main force to confront Ishida Mitsunari’s coalition in central Japan, meeting them in battle at Sekigahara in Mino province. Ieyasu’s son, Tokugawa Hidetada, was sent along a different route with 38,000 men to meet his father at the battlefield; together they would have had overwhelming force against the enemy. However, along the way Hidetada passed Ueda Castle, held by the Sanada family who opposed the Tokugawa, and he decided to attack it despite orders from his father to bypass it and hurry along to the main battlefield. Even though he only spent a short amount of time trying to take Ueda before he gave up and moved on, it was enough of a delay that Hidetada’s force missed the Battle of Sekigahara completely. Thankfully for the Tokugawa, due to other Principles we will discuss in a bit, the Tokugawa won the day and went on to rule Japan for over 250 years. However, Hidetada’s 38,000 troops were completely wasted, and could have been the difference between victory and defeat. You better believe Tokugawa Ieyasu let his son know this! 

Unity of Command

(1) The purpose of unity of command is to ensure unity of effort under one responsible commander for every objective.

(2) Unity of command means that all forces operate under a single commander with the requisite authority to direct all forces employed in pursuit of a common purpose. During multinational operations and interagency coordination, unity of command may not be possible, but the requirement for unity of effort becomes paramount. Unity of effort—the coordination and cooperation toward common objectives, even if the participants are not necessarily part of the same command or organization—is the product of successful unified action.

You’ve no doubt heard the phrases “Too many cooks spoil the batter” or “too many chiefs, not enough Indians”. These both allude to the fact that systems work best with one person in charge giving one vision for the rest to follow. This is why the military is not a democracy. Operations simply do not work if everyone involved gets to do their own thing. There must be one commander, and everyone has to work towards his objective for things to succeed.

Let’s return to Sekigahara for a perfect example of Unity of Command in action. On one side, you had Tokugawa Ieyasu, a clear leader. Respected by all, even his enemies, there was no doubt who was in charge of the eastern forces. Daimyo that chose to side with the eastern side were choosing to be led by Tokugawa Ieyasu; there was no challenge to his leadership.

On the western side, you had…well, you had a loose coalition. There were a variety of motivating factors for daimyo to choose the western side: loyalty to Toyotomi Hideyoshi’s memory, fear of Tokugawa Ieyasu, a vague sense of how things should be. One thing that wasn’t a motivation was strong coalition leadership. Ishida Mitsunari, the de facto head of the anti-Tokugawa, pro-Toyotomi forces, was generally disliked by most of the daimyo in the coalition. He was not seen as a strong leader, and was not even seen as an equal by many of the daimyo in the western coalition. Several prominent daimyo chose to join the Tokugawa, motivated by their hatred of Mitsunari (Kato Kiyomasa is the most notable example); changing the political leadership of the country was preferable to having to work with “that guy”. Though in command, Mitsunari wasn’t even the “head” of the western coalition; that fell to Mori Terumoto, who wasn’t present at Sekigahara, and who was a representative of Toyotomi Hideyori, the seven year old heir of the late Hideyoshi.

Shimazu Yoshihiro, as seen at Sekigahara Warland Theme Park

This lack of unity of command for the western forces seriously hampered their efforts. Several daimyo delayed their movement east towards the campaign; some, tasked to besiege and take Tokugawa held castles west of Kyoto, took their time to do so. Shimazu Yoshihiro didn’t see Ishida Mitsunari as a leader at all, and took umbrage with being gruffly ordered around. This caused Yoshihiro to sit on the battlefield and brood, waiting until after combat had been taking place for a while before committing his forces. Even more detrimental were the defections of several leading Western daimyo, most notably Kobayakawa Hideaki and Kikkawa Hiroie, whose combined 18,000 men falling on the flank of the Western force they were supposedly a part of (their actions encouraged by Tokugawa Ieyasu, of course) turned a close battle into a rout. (Edited note: this is not a blow-by-blow of tactical action at Sekigahara, which was obviously much more nuanced. I'm illustrating a point, that is all. Don't get bent out of shape because I simplify things.)

Had the western army had any unity of command, Japanese history would likely be very different. They had a number of tactical advantages (better terrain, more troops) that could have resulted in coalition victory, had there been any unity of command or unity of effort. Even a coalition can be very successful if the coalition members all strive towards the same goal. However, that didn’t happen, and the strongly-led Tokugawa forces took advantage of it.

Well, there you have it. Next time we’ll look at the Three S’s: Security, Surprise, and Simplicity. See you then!

The above comments represent the views of the author only, and should not be interpreted to represent the views or official position of the United States Army or the Department of Defense. 

MAJ Nate Ledbetter
Intermediate Level Education Class 12-002
Staff Group D
Fort Gordon, Georgia

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[1] Department of Defense. Joint Publication 3-0, “Joint Operations” Washington, D.C.: 11 August 2011. Pg. A-2.

Principled Warfare: Samurai Combat Done Right (And Wrong)

Greetings once again, Samurai Archives fans! It’s me, ltdomer98, or Nate, as those of you who listen to our podcast know me. Of course, a blogpost from me means there’s military history to discuss, so get ready for a 5 (yes FIVE) part series of posts.

Yes, I know it’s been a long time since I blogged on military concepts—most of you probably don’t remember this post from 2010 about the Levels of War concept. That’s okay. I promise this will fill that desperate ache for US military doctrine applied to Sengoku Japanese warfare.

Jomini, looking very happy

Over the next few days, we’re going to discuss another US military concept: the Principles of Joint Operations, as found in US Joint Publication 3-0, Joint Operations, published 11 August 2011. Some of you students of military history may be familiar with the Principles of War, 9 principles used by militaries to describe and focus action. Originally conceived by Antoine Henri Jomini, a veteran of Napoleon’s army, in the 1800’s, the Principles of War were: Objective, Offensive, Mass, Maneuver, Economy of Force, Unity of Command, Security, Surprise, and Simplicity. As a lieutenant way back at the dawn of time (or the late 1990’s), I was taught them by means of the acronym “MOOSEMUSS”, since no one in the Army can possibly learn anything without a catchy acronym. 

The world is a different place now than it was back then, and the Army (and US military as a whole) is a different Army. We’ve learned lots of things from Iraq and Afghanistan, through failure as much or more than success. With that in mind, the doctrine writers have been busy the last few years. Many of the Army publications I used just last year as the doctrinal basis for my analysis of Nagashino are now out of date; the information and concepts are not necessarily out of use, but much has been updated and streamlined, and eventually I will have to go back through and determine what changes I need to make in my papers. But, that’s for a different time. 

The point of all this is that, in addition the 9 Principles of War listed above, the US military has added three more principles to make a list of “Principles of Joint Operations.” These new principles—Restraint, Perseverance, and Legitimacy—reflect the lessons of the Counterinsurgency (COIN) concepts now being used by Coalition forces in Afghanistan and Iraq. 

So, if they’re new, they don’t apply to 16^th century Japan, right? Well, I’m going to show you that they do. These concepts, while newly codified into Joint doctrine, aren’t new at all, and in fact played just a prominent a part in warfare in the Sengoku period as any of the original Principles of War.

I will discuss three principles per post, defining them and using examples from (mostly) Sengoku warfare to illustrate the concepts. The final post, I’ll use them collectively to analyze commander actions at a battle in Japanese history. Those of you who know me can guess which one I might use. 

With that, let’s start with the first Principle. 

Objective

(1) The purpose of specifying the objective is to direct every military operation toward a clearly defined, decisive, and achievable goal.

(2) The purpose of military operations is to achieve the military objectives that support attainment of the overall political goals of the conflict. This frequently involves the destruction of the enemy armed forces’ capabilities and their will to fight. The objective of joint operations not involving this destruction might be more difficult to define; nonetheless, it too must be clear from the beginning. Objectives must directly, quickly, and economically contribute to the purpose of the operation. Each operation must contribute to strategic objectives. [Commanders] should avoid actions that do not contribute directly to achieving the objective(s).

(3) Additionally, changes to the military objectives may occur because political and military leaders gain a better understanding of the situation, or they may occur because the situation itself changes. The [Commander] should anticipate these shifts in political goals necessitating changes in the military objectives. The changes may be very subtle, but if not made, achievement of the military objectives may no longer support the political goals, legitimacy may be undermined, and force security may be compromised.[1]

Let’s start with the first point (because where else would we start?). Every military option should have a clearly defined and achievable goal, or objective. For some of you, this may seem like the most obvious thing ever. Why go in to battle, or start a war, unless you know why you are doing it? However, this isn’t as obvious as you might think. Many historical examples show that sometimes military commanders really aren’t sure what they were trying to do, or weren’t exactly sure how they were going to do it. This is at the root of all the contemporary debates about “exit strategy” in Iraq and Afghanistan. A commander has to identify what it is he is trying to accomplish, both to identify the means to do so and to know when he is done.

Some failures come from lack of a coherent objective at all. The difference between the vague goal of “conquer more territory” and the specific, yet similar goal of “conquer enemies and attain supremacy over all of Japan” is the difference between a local warlord who probably didn’t last long and an Oda Nobunaga, who had the vision to map out a path to that strategic objective. 

Other failures come from setting objectives that are unrealistic: Toyotomi Hideyoshi’s invasion of the Asian mainland failed in part because it was way too ambitious to believe he could invade China and conquer the entire landmass; Hideyoshi had no concept of the scale of operation that objective would require. 

Astute readers may recognize concepts from the Levels of War at work in the second point. “Each operation must contribute to strategic objectives.” Otherwise, you’re wasting your time and energy. More on that when we get to other concepts. 

The third point means that circumstances can change that either accomplish your objective, or render it irrelevant, in which case you need to readjust and pursue a new objective. Tokugawa Ieyasu’s objective as the advance guard for Imagawa Yoshimoto’s army in 1560 was to secure the forward fortifications at Marune and Washizu in order to secure Yoshimoto’s passage with the main force; the objective was rendered obsolete when Oda Nobunaga destroyed Yoshimoto’s headquarters and killed him, so Ieyasu retreated to preserve himself and his force. His objective changed from support to Yoshimoto’s army to self-preservation and independence as he split from the weakened Imagawa. 

Offensive

(1) The purpose of an offensive action is to seize, retain, and exploit the initiative.

(2) Offensive action is the most effective and decisive way to achieve a clearly defined objective. Offensive operations are the means by which a military force seizes and holds the initiative while maintaining freedom of action and achieving decisive results. The importance of offensive action is fundamentally true across all levels of war.

(3) Commanders adopt the defensive only as a temporary expedient and must seek every opportunity to seize or regain the initiative. An offensive spirit must be inherent in the conduct of all defensive operations.

There are two ways to succinctly explain this Principle. The first is through sports: you can have the best defense in the world, but you still have to score at least one more point than your opponent to win. The second is Newton’s first law of motion: objects in motion stay in motion, and objects at rest  stay at rest, unless an outside force acts upon it. I have just simultaneously appealed to both the jock crowd and the science nerds—we’re all about bringing everyone together in the name of Japanese history. 

In warfare, the side initiating action is said to be on the offensive, and generally is the side forcing the other side to react to it. You can deter an enemy through defensive action, but you cannot defeat them without taking the fight to them. As point 3 states, defense is temporary: commanders go on the defensive to take advantage of terrain or other circumstances to defeat the opponent’s attack or to buy time and build combat power until they can take the offensive themselves. Defeating your opponent’s attack, only to let them retreat and rebuild by not taking the offensive yourself, accomplishes only temporary goals. 

Nobunaga’s campaigns are a good example of Offensive operations. Nobunaga was truly the first samurai commander to divide his operations into theaters, with Hideyoshi commanding his forces in western Japan, Shibata Katsuie commanding Oda forces in the north, Sakuma Nobumori leading forces against the Ishiyama Honganji in central Japan, and Tokugawa Ieyasu (as a subordinate ally) in charge in the Tokai region to the east. Nobunaga never ceased being on the offensive—he would move between theaters with his main army to exploit offensive opportunities created by his subordinate commanders. When an objective (see, these all tie together) in one area was reached he would shift focus to the next offensive opportunity—for instance, when the surrender of the Ishiyama Honganji was finalized, he shifted focus to the final destruction of the Takeda in Shinano and Kai.

Mass

(1) The purpose of mass is to concentrate the effects of combat power at the most advantageous place and time to produce decisive results.

(2) In order to achieve mass, appropriate joint force capabilities are integrated and synchronized where they will have a decisive effect in a short period of time. Mass often must be sustained to have the desired effect. Massing effects of combat power, rather than concentrating forces, can enable even numerically inferior forces to produce decisive results and minimize human losses and waste of resources.

Mass isn’t very hard to understand: as Napoleon supposedly said, “God is on the side of the big battalions.” But it’s not as simple as having more troops—allegedly, Voltaire’s retort was “God is not on the side of the big battalions, but on the side of those who shoot best.” Voltaire highlights an important point: it’s not the numbers, but the massed effects that matter.

Imagawa Yoshimoto meets his end at Okehazama

The best example I can use is Okehazama again. We all (well, most of us) know the story: Oda Nobunaga, with a force of a few thousand, defeated the much larger Imagawa army under Yoshimoto with somewhere between 25,000-30,000 troops by sneaking in under the cover a rain storm to attack Yoshimoto’s lightly defended headquarters. As Nobunaga rode from Kiyosu to the battlefield, he gathered up smaller parties of warriors along the way, and other small contingents met him closer to where the Imagawa were encamped. Nobunaga didn’t match up with the Imagawa army soldier for soldier—in a field battle of force vs. force, he surely would have been annihilated by sheer weight of numbers. The mass of the Imagawa would have overwhelmed Nobunaga, and Japanese history would be very different today.

However, the Imagawa were dispersed over much of the countryside, as my example above with Ieyasu’s vanguard already noted. The headquarters at Dengakuhazama was in full non-tactical mode because they assumed the rest of their army was sweeping aside Oda resistance ahead of them. They were napping, eating, and having a sip of sake or two (or three). Meanwhile Arriving at the battlefield by various covered and concealed routes, Nobunaga’s force massed at the decisive tactical point to overwhelm the enemy:  hitting the Imagawa from several sides and overwhelming them, taking the commander Yoshimoto’s head in the process and defeating the invasion of Oda territory at the outset.

So, there you have it: Objective, Offensive, and Mass. Next time we’ll cover three more Principles of Joint Operations: Maneuver, Economy of Force, and Unity of Command. Stay tuned!

Lastly, some housekeeping: I am writing this, actually, for an assignment in my Command and General Staff College—Intermediate Level Education school. As such, I must throw out the following disclaimer:

The above comments represent the views of the author only, and should not be interpreted to represent the views or official position of the United States Army or the Department of Defense. 

MAJ Nate Ledbetter
Intermediate Level Education Class 12-002
Staff Group D
Fort Gordon, Georgia
 

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[1] Department of Defense. Joint Publication 3-0, “Joint Operations” Washington, D.C.: 11 August 2011. Pg. A-1through A-2 is the source for all quoted JP 3-0 definitions of Principles.