It would seem pertinent to consider whether an electrical or mechanical engineer is not just as qualified for the higher command of modern antiaircraft formations as any other type of soldier, and whether some of our arbitrary distinctions between combatant and noncombatant are not invalid. The value of these essential intellects is too grudgingly acknowledged since, despite the cataclysmic potentialities of modern weapons, man remains the true measure of military might—that is, the man who understands and controls the new media. Given the ethical purpose of the true soldier, the military technologist is the military man of our time, although he still requires the complementary presence of the combat soldier to fulfill his mission.

Personal Faith

God, King, and Country have long formed the basis of the military oath. To inquire deeply into the interrelationship of these profound loyalties and beliefs is a philosophical and psychological exercise beyond the present scope. The assumption that imminent personal victory is inseparable from the Divine Will often may appear to the impartial as an impertinence, if not a blasphemy.

Nevertheless, where the religious belief of the commander, high or low, is firm and clear, it is a stabilizing comfort. In the higher ranks it may vary in form from the clear extrovert professions of a Montgomery to the inner conviction of divine mission which appeared to characterize Haig, or the humble, frank resignation of General Dobbie, the successful evangelical commander of Malta.

These latter-day Christian soldiers contrast greatly with the seeming lack of strong religious belief in Napoleon and Wellington. Even that indomitable soldier John Nicholson, who was himself revered as a minor prophet among his Punjabi sect of Nikalsains, so lacked profound belief as to worry his pious mother.

There have been successful soldiers i history who were apparently devoid o religious belief. Probably Genghis Kha was one, and Frederick the Great appear to have been an agnostic in private lif The old Parliamentarian ideal is that the russet-coated officer who knows wh he fights and loves what he knows. In th fluctuating war of ideologies the posse sion of inner faith cannot but be of in mense advantage.

The Officer and the People

An army with a democratic recruitmen to all ranks and trades should be in natural state of rapport with the citizenry This state often is qualified by some ad verse political, historical, and social effect of bias. However strong the mutual ties they cannot be too strong for the purpos of sound leadership.

If the forces are militias with popula elected officers, or irregulars of any type the right to lead derives from consent of the led. In regular and para regular force there is an absence of direct consent du to the political and departmental channel of its application. This remoteness is bes countered by a sound understanding of the officer's status, and is dispelled utterly in the officer with a vocation.

He will recognize his status as publi servant and protector of the realm, aware of the national strengths and weaknesses which he must exploit or deny if the army is to succeed. He must be able to handle the voter, the worker, the landowner, poli tician, parent, and the taxpayer as well as he can handle their sons. Abroad he must embody the best characteristics of his people and army, for he is an ambassador without the benefits of protocol or precedence, the cynosure of the alien eye. In sum he must cultivate affection and respect for humanity, which, after all, is his primary raw material.

It certainly is appropriate in considering the attitude of the officer to the populace to mark the civilizing effects throughout

history of the good soldier. Our own culture is indebted heavily to the Roman soldier for the civilization which he brought, even for the propagation of our Christian religion throughout the known world of antiquity. The modern officer has an opportunity to become a great force for social good in his role of trainer of youth under National Service. The inculcation of manly ideals of service, the establishment of high standards of conduct, hygiene, and social cooperation, and helping in the assimilation of young trainees into the body politic is nation-building work. In the technical sphere the officer is a pioneer of professional "know-how," and often the sole arbiter in all military matters, whether dealing with the civilian layman or the earnest and enthusiastic citizen soldier. In all these tasks lies a worthwhile vocation.

The Officer and the Soldier

The true foundation of military comradeship lies as much in its freedom from mutual profit motives as in the solemn purpose which underlies the military organism. It is not the impending loss of barracks, weapons, manuals, or pay which makes the retiring old soldier downcast, but the fact that the purest form of mutual respect and affection-based on human worth, not cash-shortly will be removed from his daily life. This respect nourishes the sacrificial instinct of the true, born officer, particularly in free societies. It is the traditional give and take of the mess, the platoon, and the sports field which leads to the consolidation of the team in war. Cheap esteem has no part in it.

Although the superior form of officersoldier relationship is to be expected in democratic societies, it is not necessarily absent in more rigid and mercenary organizations. The Turkish Janissaries and the Praetorian Guard were effective military instruments of great force for many years despite their unpromising beginnings. They thrived as closed corpora

tions with a strong stimulus from privilege and, by a disciplined and Spartan regime, achieved considerable results until corrupted by power. The officers were protected persons, like the queen bee in the hive. In return they guaranteed power or loot to their soldiers. Thus could a Wallenstein recruit and lead his marauding condottiere the length and breath of Europe.

We see a choice between Frederick's Prussian grenadier, who fears his officer more than the enemy, and the Anglo-Saxon ranks in which the young subaltern contrives to evoke an amazing and protective affection. Both systems have been made to work. Respect and affection equally are valuable in the normal relationship of officer to soldier. Certainly no man can aspire to lead who does not feel genuine affection for his men, although, like the Iron Duke, he may not easily make a display of it. The lack of this quality does, in fact, eliminate some who already possess the physical and intellectual attributes of leadership; nevertheless, it is a quality which can be fostered in most normal gregarious humans.

Promotion and Integrity

It is sometimes to the detriment of our professional moves that we have evolved effective but mechanistic systems of military human engineering. Men have been replaced by gradings, intelligence quotient ratings, and collations of Hollerith symbols which are good servants but bad masters. The unique combinations of blood and intellect, of environment and heredity, recede from these methods.

The Golden Age when every battalion could cherish one dunderheaded lance corporal to serve as mail orderly, or even one bumbling but gallant major to keep the troops amused, gives place to a remorseless determinism. This inhibits natural competition and militates against the morale of the average officer, since the apparently less gifted are apprised early of their inadequacy. Here we require reas

surance of the fundamentally equal value of every good officer to the army.

When the British Army ran as an exclusive club the King's commission was the guarantee of social status, the regiment was an officer's home, and the accidents of promotion were the intruding incidents of destiny. Thus was a happy officer corps ensured. The race is now to the swift, that is the swift in the examination room and staff college. The slower, but perhaps more stalwart, tend to be depreciated accordingly.

The existing system of academic promotion examinations does not reassure the average officer. Some of the written examinations lack objectivity, many of the tests are prone to degenerate into inquisitions; and a system which examines officers in tactics in the written papers and concurrently demands attendance at qualifying tactics courses appears redundant. It is hard to realize that this dry pedantic slogging is the final rehearsal for what Foch called "the bloody and impassioned drama of war."

Overriding more solid attributes, it is increasingly common in this atomic age to find the commercial element of salesmanship obtruding into army life. There is a depressing incidence of opportunism inimical to a sound professional atmosphere. A common form it takes is of militarism rather than the true military ideal; obsolete military pomp and panoply, display without training, operational, or real morale value. To distinguish and avoid this evil requires a fine judgment, or perhaps taste. It is the vice which ruined the empire of Napoleon III. It is often allied with that dangerous type of ambivalence, in which professional competence is coupled with lack of moral courage, as was exemplified in the German General Staff under Hitler.

The battle for promotion often inhibits the latter sterling quality. At the mention of promotion the subject's conditioned reflexes stifle the voice of conscience. If we

are to have commanders with the marty courage of a Billy Mitchell, or even the singleness of purpose of a Trotsky, they must be found from men who put the pro fession first and themselves last, and they will be easier to produce if the process of elimination is convincingly fair and con tributes to the general dignity and self respect.

The Laborer and His Hire

It was cynically observed in the 1930' that "an Indian Army officer fights for his pay." The enemy was the paymaster. In perpetuation of his privilege, which was to grumble, the officer, or more frequently his wife, still grouses about pay. Yet he is privileged, with ministers of religion and professors, to be underpaid by accepted commercial standards; nor should pay be the main criterion of worth, although official opinions have varied.

It once was maintained that an officer should have private means, since it gave him some freedom of action and conscience. Conversely, it has been revealed that members of the British Army Council kept the pay of young officers low because it would be conducive to plain living and high thinking under the discipline of poverty.

The armed services since the last war have granted creeping appreciations in pay to attract more officers. This is based on the fallacy that good officers can be bought literally. Good officers, of course, are attracted primarily by the incentives of a good and satisfying professional life. although they must be sustained by adequate pay. Overemphasis on pay must attract and retain mere time servers. The reward of the good officer is the knowledge of work well done and public appreciation of that fact. Pay baits frequently are used, not to improve the lot of serving officers -who would often prefer better housing, leave, sport, travel, or superannuationbut to attract the raw and gullible wavering recruit.

These misconceptions often arise from misguided civilian attempts to "run the army as I run my business."

Unfortunately, armies have no regular annual balance, and the first major transaction may prove them bankrupt.

Conversely, there are some poor officers who succeed in business because they are motivated by gain and self and possess the necessary acquisitive aptitude. As the officer reflects his parent society, so this materialism bulks larger in his outlook. It must be contained and restricted to its proper limits. The world owes the good officer a decent living, but the moment he grabs for more he is no longer a good officer.

Politics and the Officer

From Caesar to Peron, history is replete with accounts of unsatisfactory soldierpoliticians. Cromwell's long shadow embarrassed even the eclectic Marlborough in his political designs. Ulysses S. Grant lost as President the reputation he had acquired on the battlefield, and Wellington as Prime Minister had to suffer the stoning of his house by the outraged Chartists. We must sincerely hope that General Eisenhower is the exception to prove the rule.

The rare soldier-political scientists have not been without effect, as witness Mikhail Bukanin, the former Czarist officer who, in revolt against his profession, launched the anarchosyndicalists upon the world. Political aspirations form no legitimate part of an officer's equipment, particularly in the Anglo-Saxon world.

Nevertheless, times have changed to this extent that an understanding of politics and of his political responsibilities is necessary to the modern officer. The German command ultimately suffered because it chose to ignore certain obvious political duties in order to preserve its military fabric, and the German nation was dragged into ruin.

In the wars of ideologies nobody can be neutral, and the officer must lead in the political indoctrination of the soldier, provided he keeps to the basic political credo and abjures party polemics. This delicate operation alone calls for good judgment. Political ignorance in the officer, however, is dangerous. As a responsible leader he must know where we stand internally and internationally. A sound education will enable him to put the army and national policy into perspective. He must be versed in politics, but, at all costs, not a political soldier.

Conclusion

The attributes required of the good officer may vary greatly according to the task and the times, but the need for a sustaining sense of dedication increases. Unfortunately, not every officer can be divinely inspired, but given integrity, intelligence, and energy, good officers can be made. The techniques of war become more complex and exacting, but human leadership is still the controlling force.

It is an essential for the well-being of the officer cadre that the public should recognize its own obligation fully. The officer is practically powerless to intervene on his own behalf, and the better he is, the less likely to intervene. Unless he is reinforced by the intellectual and moral certainty of his professional convictions he will prove worthless. Unless he is developed professionally, and is free of unnecessary domestic distraction, he cannot give his best.

In the evanescent worlds of global and atomic war the civil population looks to the army officer for stability to prevent any unfavorable violent change. It is, therefore, axiomatic that his freedom and security to develop should be guaranteed to him in this uneasy peace. The transformation from mercenary to missionary then will be completed and the officer will flourish in rewarded dedication.

IN NORTHERN Europe the great blocs of power are meshed together in a remarkable way. While Finland is militarily bound to the USSR, Norway is part of NATO. The Norwegian province of Finnmark lies like a cover over Finnish Lapland. This NATO territory approaches close to the Russian long-range bomber bases around and south of Murmansk and on the Kola Peninsula.

The terrain of Europe's upper extremity is, on the whole, passable only with difficulty, largely destitute of roads, and unsuited for land warfare. This fact was experienced by German infantry and mountain divisions during World War II in their approach to the Murmansk Railway. In such wildernesses as Karelia and Lapland limitations are placed on technique by nature.

The forest wildernesses abound in swamps, lakes, and water courses. Except for the few paths and roads the rocky Tundras are hostile to everything. In World War II even formations marching on foot and which were well-provided with pack animals, were able to operate, march, maneuver, and fight off the roads to a limited degree only.

The few existing roads were the axes of military action. They showed the troops the direction and objective of movement and combat. Where no roads existed there were no important military operations, as every terrain-bound unit needs roads if it is to utilize heavier weapons and matériel. Even local (transwoods and transtundra) movements require ad hoc road construction in order to provide fire support by weapons heavier than those which can be hand carried. Otherwise such local undertakings must be based solely on

maneuver.

An adversary who is watchful and on

the alert to prevent outflanking and en circling movements, able to fight in a mobile manner, and organized in depth will be susceptible to neither frontal at tacks nor encirclements in trackless and normally impassable terrain. Encirclements are the order of the day in smallscale mobile combat in woods. But the surrounding of major units which may not tenaciously defend themselves in place is seldom successful.

In the winter rivers and lakes become frozen highways and marshes become passable and may even be traveled with sleds. Units which are mobile under winter conditions (especially ski units) are able to move with relative speed off the roads, and the long nights facilitate troop movements. There is no longer any scarcity of roads. The snow blanket smooths the course, and winter vastly increases the capabilities for movement.

During the summer, operations must be conducted over the few passable routes available. Every ground operation and action requires many vehicles for the transport of heavy weapons, ammunition, and supplies of all kinds.

To how great a degree the few passable roads determine both direction and objective of military operations is shown by a glance at the military events in the northern part of Europe from 1939 to 1945. In the summer of 1941 the allied Finnish and German units worked their way eastward along the same routes on which the Russians made their incursion in the winter war of 1939-40, between Lake Ladoga and the Arctic Ocean.

And again, after the capitulation of the Finns in the fall of 1944, operations were conducted over the old rails through the primeval forest and the Tundra when the Russians set out to attack and anni