THE American division is shrinking in

units and manpower to fit new concepts. Some of the deleted units, rooted out of a comparatively protected home within a division, are standing around rather nakedly as nondivisional units. It may be that these units sense a peculiar vulnerability in their status, a status which is based only partly on wartime experience. However, the fact that these units are now nondivisional in no way detracts from their importance to the combat structure of the division or the Army. Their status, in fact, represents an interesting compromise between peacetime and wartime considerations.

One of the official results of the Army's study of World War II was a form of centralization on a relatively grand scale, applied to the organizational structure of the division. The postwar tendency was to put everything into the division but a bidet, against the possibility that the division might have to fight in any of a wide variety of situations: hot, cold, or sopping wet weather; practically alone, or teamed with small-weaponed allies, or part of a 100-division juggernaut; airlifted, beach landed, or what have you the possible variety of situations outnumbers Heinz' famous 57. Might the division need tanks besides those in the regiments? Well, yes, better put in a tank battalion. Will the division need antiaircraft protection? Yes, better throw in a battalion of AAA, too. Might anything else be needed? Whatever

it is, put at least one in the division's basic structure. Even if you, as a commander, never have to use it, it will be comforting to have it under your hand.

The Pendulum Swings

Inevitably, for the conflict in viewpoint underlying these theories is an age-old conflict in organizational philosophy, reaction set in. Especially in response to our experience in Korea, it became clear that we had placed too much in the division structure, that some of the division's organization and equipment was superfluous, or irrelevant, or at least partially maladjusted to the problem at that time and place. The pendulum was criticized for having swung too far, and was invited to swing back.

In time, the countervirtue of pooling support units came to be stressed as an overriding virtue. If a division needs certain types of support units in one theater, they would be made available; they would be added to the units sent to support the divisions in that area. If not needed, however, they would not be present and in the way, idle and using up spaces in theater combat support strength that would be much more profitably devoted to other types of units.

This is basically sound organizational planning. It is economical, and husbands the dwindling strength of the Army. To be sure, it takes a risk that the forces sent immediately to a danger area may be un

of

lanced, that not all the special-purpose pport units would be available. But alost any solution takes a risk, and the sk in this instance, so long as it is recogzed and accepted, can remain a normal

e.

The ease with which this could become abnormal risk is, however, an aspect at does not readily meet the eye, for it largely a hidden risk, like a sharpothed coral reef under the smooth waves the future.

Division Measuring Stick

The American Army, like most modern mies, is keyed to the division structure. fact, throughout the modern world the vision in many respects is the universal asuring stick for comparing the size d strength of ground forces. The "divi-n slice" is a widely used term to express tain measures of military strength. evertheless, around the world, what goes to the composition of a division varies om very little to very much; the differces may be significant, even crucial. In the United States Army structure e power of the American division is incricably interwoven with its backup, its pporting structure. In fact, its total wer is dependent largely upon its suprt-its fire support in the form of artilLieutenant Colonel Anthony L. Werth was graduated from the United ates Military Academy in 1940, and ds a Master of Arts degree from Combia University. A frequent contributor the MILITARY REVIEW, his military servincludes duty as battalion commander

G3 of the Southern Landing Force on ska Island; instructor and assistant ofessor of English at West Point; Headarters, USAREUR, and Headquarters, ropean Command; Assistant Secretary neral Staff, Office of the Chief of Staff, partment of the Army; Plans Division, Fice of the Assistant Chief of Staff, G3; d command of the 2d Battle Group, th Cavalry, in Korea. After his return m Korea, he held an interim assignnt in Washington and now is a student the U. S. Army War College.

lery, tanks, aircraft, and other weapons, and its highly efficient logistic support of supply, engineers, trucks, and airlift. This support is provided in units that may be set up on a sliding scale of availability, or in a flexible system of ready attachment and detachment under certain conditions.

Undoubtedly, some ratio eventually will be worked out carefully by the Army planners, to the effect that so much of certain kinds of power must remain in units organic to the division, while certain degrees of the same or other kinds of power must be formed only in nondivisional units which, in turn, will be assigned to support divisions only in special circumstances.

Nondivisional Units Essential

The point is that whatever the figures turn out to be which justify taking power out of the division and keeping it flexible but handy, that detached power still is essential to the division's total power. Whether it happens to be assigned inside or outside the division structure in normal uncommitted circumstances, the power must arrive on the battlefield when the division is committed to that type of situation.

As the division gets smaller and smaller, and as more and more of its power is taken out and put into backup units, there is a danger that it eventually will become less apparent that the part of the division's power kept outside the division still is an indispensable part of its strength. Even nonmilitary agencies and officials do not agree lightly to cut divisions. But when cuts in Army strength impend, it will be easier for the uninformed to assume that it is feasible to cut nondivisional strength without harming the Army. Particularly when there recur those familiar admonitions to extract a higher ratio of "combat strength" to total strength, it may appear expedient to cut nondivisional units and simultaneously to cry, "But see! We have not cut divisions! It follows that we

GER

ERMANY, in the fall of 1943, was adly in the need of a morale stimulant. [er armies were falling back on all fronts, nd mounting Allied strength portended he end of Adolph Hitler's Reich. Sudenly, against this somber background here occurred an exploit that rekindled e pride of every German. A small force f parachutists, led by Captain Otto Skoreny, dramatically liberated Benito Musɔlini from his captors high atop a virtully impregnable mountain, and delivered im to safety in Germany. Friend and foe like applauded the bold concept and darng execution of the deed. The Nazi propaanda chief, Dr. Paul Goebbels, trumpeted o the world:

The liberation of the Duce has caused , great sensation at home and abroad. Even upon the enemy the effect of this nelodramatic deliverance has been enornous. .. There has hardly been a miliary event during the entire war that has o deeply stirred the emotions. . . . We re able to celebrate a first class moral rictory.

...

Today, measured against the entire fabic of the war, the rescue of Mussolini Issumes its true perspective. Certainly it lid not alter the course of history, for, as ven the exuberant Herr Goebbels would have admitted, moral victories do not win vars. It would be a mistake, however, for nilitary students to overlook the lessons ind implications of this type operation,

since its use in future warfare may be extensive.

The Situation

The collapse of the Axis forces in Africa in May 1943 was the death knell to Italian colonial aspirations. The fall of Sicily three months later completed the series of military disasters that spread defeatism throughout Italy. In vain the Italian Dictator Mussolini made political and military changes hoping to stem off the growing antagonism that made him "the most hated man in Italy." The climax came on 25 July with a vote of "no confidence" by the Fascist Grand Council. Mussolini was deposed and placed in protective custody by Marshal Badaglio.

As might be expected, Hitler's reaction to the fall of his Axis partner was explosive. He saw in the sudden turn of events no ordinary government crisis, but a complete reversal of policy that could result in the ending of the war on unfavorable terms. Additionally, he held Mussolini in warm personal regard as the personification of the last of the Roman Caesars. Several courses of action were suggested by the German High Command, but all were subordinated to Hitler's wish to rescue Mussolini by any means available. It is interesting to note that not all of Hitler's generals shared his enthusiasm for the liberation of Mussolini. General Kesselring called it a "harebrained scheme," and Marshal Rommel stated in his diary

that he hoped "the job will not be put on my plate. I can see no good in it."

Six highly qualified officers were summoned to Hitler's field headquarters at once. After personally interviewing each officer, Hitler selected Captain Otto Skorzeny and gave him this assignment:

I have a mission of the highest importance for you. Yesterday Mussolini, my friend and our loyal partner in the struggle, was betrayed by his King and arrested by his compatriots. Now I cannot and will not abandon the greatest of Italians in his hour of peril. . . . Mussolini must be rescued, and speedily, otherwise they will deliver him up to the Allies. I therefore entrust you with this mission; its successful outcome will be of incalculable bearing on the development of future military operations.

The Plans

Captain Skorzeny was uniquely fitted for the task ahead. A huge, athletic man with a characteristic Prussian dueling scar on his check, he thrived on excitement and danger. Quite by chance he was selected to head the first German Commando Battalion. This organization was patterned very closely on similar British units. Every man was a parachutist and trained thoroughly as an infantryman and

Major Burton F. Hood was graduated from the United States Military Academy in 1943. He served with the 377th Infantry, 95th Infantry Division, in the European theater during 1944-45. From 1946 to 1949 he was with the 16th Infantry, 1st Infantry Division, in Europe. He received a Master's degree from the University of Alabama in 1953 and subsequently was assigned to Headquarters, The Infantry Center, for three years. He served as advisor, Airborne Group, Military Assistance Advisory Group, in Vietnam, and completed the Regular Course of the U. S. Army Command and General Staff College in 1958. He now is assigned to the Office of the Deputy Chief of Staff for Operations, Department of the Army, Washing

ton.

engineer with a working knowledge of demolitions, weapons, vehicles, and the customs and languages of his enemies. The unit was untested in battle, but chafing for action.

Now kidnapping is not one of the standard military operations described in the training manuals of any army. Consequently, Skorzeny could not rely on prece dent for guidance in accomplishing his mission. He lost no time in jumping into the operation, however, realizing that time was precious and working against him. He wired immediately to his executive officer to fly 50 picked men, equipped for any contingency, to meet him in Rome. The following day he assembled his unit outside of Rome and briefed them only to the extent that they were going on an important raid.

If Mussolini were to be rescued, he first had to be located. Fantastic rumors of his suicide, abduction, and confinement in a sanitarium flooded Rome. Each had to be investigated and disproved. Official sources were closemouthed, and even the highly regarded secret service could not locate the Duce. Three frustrating weeks were spent with no trace or indication of where Badaglio had locked up the former head of the Fascist Government.

Finally, chance favored them with a casual remark of a naval officer who boasted that his cruiser had transferred the Duce to the port of La Spezia. Before plans could be perfected to abduct Mussolini from this town, however, he wa once again transferred. More time was lost until it was determined that the Duce was interned in the naval fortress d Santa-Maddalena. Plans were immediately advanced for a sea-air-land raid on this prison. Again, frustration; Mussolini was transferred only a few hours before the plan was to have been put into execution Finally, all indications pointed to the in carceration of the Duce in a hotel resort at the foot of the Gran Sasso peak eastern-central Italy.