Thoughts on Pre-Command Course

Part 1: The USAR

I just finished the Reserve portion of the Battalion Pre-Command Course. (It’s officially known as the Chief of Staff of the Army Core Course, but no one calls it that.) The course, in toto, allows newly selected battalion commanders from all three components to come together and both learn from and with one another. Senior leaders from the Army (we’re talking three and four-star generals) brief us on expectations, concerns, and stressors of battalion command as well as current operational requirements. There are also break-out sessions concerning physical health, mental health, sleep, executive coaching, etc. It’s a great course.

Reserve officers report four days early because we receive a specific USAR course. That is what I just completed. The course was in parts illuminating and in parts dull. First, the illuminating.

The course opened with a brief from the Deputy Commanding General (DCG) of the Army Reserve. Man, that guy can motivate the dead. He discussed the Chief of the Army Reserve’s (CAR) training guidance as well as his philosophy. I was not emotionally prepared for it. As many of you have probably heard from our current Secretary of Defense, the Army is focused on lethality. It’s focused on combat training. It’s focused on near-peer threats with an eye on the Pacific. This includes the Reserve. I’ve had a hard time trying to figure out what lethality means to me and my battalion. We are a logistics battalion. Our job is to ensure that commodities get to those who need them in theater. I assumed that lethality had to mean something different to me than it does to an infantry battalion. However, listening to these briefs, I’m convinced I was wrong. Lethality = lethality. My job is to ensure that my soldiers can accomplish their mission; they must be able to plan, coordinate, and synchronize the delivery of commodities to the warfighter; however, above all, they must be lethal. They must survive in Large Scale Combat Operations (LSCO). They cannot do their mission if they cannot survive. I need to re-evaluate my training guidance.

I’d be a liar if I told you that I’m prepared for this. I grew up in the Global War on Terror (GWOT). This means that I’m used to large forward operating bases (FOBs). I’m used to static command posts. I’m used to relative safety and security knowing that we are dominant in any battle space. Furthermore, I’m trained as a personnel officer. I knew that I could see combat, but I never expected to; and, blessedly, I never have. Unfortunately, we live in interesting times. I need to get comfortable with the fact that our next war will be existential. First contact will lead to thousands and thousands of deaths. Not casualties. Deaths. My soldiers deserve training that gives them a fighting chance at survival immediately. This means they must be able to shoot, move, communicate, medicate, and decontaminate before they can deliver their classes of supply. If they cannot do the former, then they will not be able to do the latter. This is a paradigm shift for me. And it’s scary.

Senior leaders in the Reserve also discussed the United States as contested space. The Ukrainians and the Israelis have demonstrated that distance does not protect you in modern warfare. Otto Von Bismarck is supposed to have said (I’ve seen numerous variations of it on the internet, and I couldn’t pin down a source) “The Americans are truly a lucky people. They are bordered to the north and south by weak neighbors and to the east and west by fish.” This is no longer true. LSCO will bring war to the United States either from ballistic missiles or sleeper cells, or drones. Mysterious drones appear over military bases adjacent to swaths of farmland owned by Chinese interests. We can no longer assume that soldiers can train, mobilize, and deploy safely within the United States. We must incorporate protection plans into our training.

We learned a lot about the minutia of command as it pertains to the Reserve. Our separation policies, legal policies, medical policies, pretty much any policy that is directed by the DOD affects and is implemented differently in the Reserve. Those were the dull classes. They were essential (and I can only obliquely reference here that the class on command-directed mental health became real to me via a phone call from my XO earlier tonight), but they were boring.

The highlight of the weekend is that Christina came! She was able to attend the spouses’ course, where she learned about the roles and challenges of being the wife of a battalion commander. This led to wonderful conversations between us. It was the first time in a long time that she was able to immerse herself in the military culture, and she got to be a part of it. I was so happy that she was able to join me and learn from experts who have lived the life of a commander’s spouse.

I plan on updating you all this upcoming week as I learn more. I’m excited. I’m nervous. It sounds incredibly stupid, but for the first time in my 17 years as a commissioned officer, I am planning for and training for war. That’s a disconcerting feeling.