In our army, the objective of training must be to maximize the competency and proficiency of every individual and unit.
To that end, a commander must be personally involved in the development and structuring of his unit's training program. This must be based on a detailed analysis of the unit's mission requirements. From this is derived the Mission Essential Task List (METL); and then from this METL, all subordinate units at every level develop a METL of their own.
Next comes an analysis to determine the specific tasks inherent in the METL for successfully accomplishing their respective mission, and under what 'conditions' and to what 'standards' each must be performed successfully.
These critical elements, 'METL, tasks, conditions, and standards,' are the 'core' element of the training program. This is the Army system, and 1 know of no better system in any army in the world.
Once the training program has been determined, we must turn to the way training is conducted.
I, myself, have always enjoyed tough, realistic training, and have made it my number-one priority in all the units I have commanded. Of course, 'taking care of your people' ranks equally; the two are inseparable and synonymous. I have never had a soldier complain about too much tough, realistic training. Soldiers understand its value when it comes time to lay their life on the line.
Each soldier, therefore, should be required
Realistic scenarios developed from unit war plans and other contingency requirements should serve as the basis for all training. Training should then always be conducted under the most demanding and realistic conditions possible — simulating nothing except for the safety of the participants. In other words, all training, particularly at the small-unit and combined-arms levels (battalion and below), should be live fire, and conducted at night. If this is not possible, then MILES devices, which are lasers, accompanied by receiving devices on each soldier, should be used to let soldiers know when they have screwed up and been hit.
Here are a few training principles that I have tried to live by:
• A commander should always have his unit ready to go to war,
• A commander must be in the field personally supervising and evaluating training. Otherwise, he will never know the true status of the training readiness of his unit, and how to structure future training for correcting both unit and individual weaknesses.Neither can a commander make an honest judgment on what his unit can or cannot do unless he knows the unit's training readiness — inside and out.
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• If a unit fails to meet the standard for a given training event, then the commander should adjust the schedule to keep the unit in the field until they get it right — no matter how long it takes. Don't ever say, 'We'll correct the deficiency next time out.' There may not be a next time before they are committed to battle.
• The responsible commander (brigade, battalion) should never be satisfied with 'just' meeting the standard. He should keep 'raising the bar,' with an ultimate goal of maximizing the technical and tactical proficiency of every individual. For example: Every soldier in an infantry squad should qualify for the Expert infantry Badge, every medic should qualify for the Expert Field Medical Badge, every mortar crew member as Master Gunner, and so on. A great ancillary benefit also comes from this — unit pride, cohesion, and individual early promotions.
• Cross-training between skills is also very important, especially within crews of crew-served weapons that are vital to unit effectiveness in combat. Replacements are not always readily available on the battlefield.
Nothing I have said is new to any successful commander. We have lived by these principles and tenets in fulfilling our responsibilities for preparing those entrusted to us — the cream of America's youth — for success in battle. This responsibility is a sacred trust, directed not only toward success in battle, but also to the lives of the men and women we command. This includes bringing them safely back to their families, and having them feel good about themselves for what they have done for our nation.
Soldiers will unhesitatingly lay their lives on the line because of this trust in their commander and their fellow soldiers. They have no one else to look to.
This means, finally, that a commander's unit, no matter what kind it is, will be only as good as he is, a direct reflection of his principles and values, and of his dedication, his motivation, and his love and respect for his troops. A commander must therefore give it whatever it takes. No one else will do it for him.
During most of my Army career, I have been fortunate to serve in combat units where training and preparedness for no-notice contingency operations were an imperative — and for having had this opportunity I indeed feel privileged.
V
FEW ARE CALLED, FEWER ARE CHOSEN
Army posts are predictable places. Most of the time, you know what to expect — reveille in the morning, taps at night, squads, companies, battalions, PT, drills, marches, orders, regulations, tightly scheduled intense training, 'sirs' and salutes — and wildlife management.
Most Army bases in the United States have game-conservation programs. On selected fields and training areas, corn, millet, sunflower, winter wheat, and other feeds arc planted so that doves, quail, grouse, turkeys, deer, and all manner of other wild creatures can mature and receive cover and protection from predators. As an added benefit, these same fields offer soldiers who like hunting splendid sites for game shooting. Every Saturday in season, you can find soldier-hunters out on some wildlife conservation area.
This particular Saturday, Captain Carl Stiner was at Fort Jackson, where he'd been assigned after completing the Advanced Infantry Course at Fort Benning, Georgia. He had served there for sixteen months. It was bright and warm, a fine day for dove hunting. Suddenly, out of the blue, a jeep came roaring up, blasting its horn and making a god-awful mess of the shooting. A pair of MPs leaped out and headed right for Stiner.
'Sir,' the senior MP said, hustling up with urgency in his voice, 'you have orders, sir, for reassignment, and you need to get back in to look at them. Right now, sir. You're going to have to move this weekend.'
That was very unusual, so Stiner asked, 'What's the nature of the orders?'
'We don't know, sir. We were told they're classified, and you need to come back in.'