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Published Airpower Journal -
Spring 1990
It is hard to contemplate man's future in space without getting excited. Many military people feel a sense of urgency: what can my service do in space? How can I get involved? For Air Force people, the answer seems self-evident. The Air Force flies high and fast. A little higher and a little faster and--whoosh--you're in space. It seems like a natural step. And so it is--so far. The Air Force is the lead service in space and will keep that role for a few decades.
Eventually, however, an independent US space force will emerge to handle deep-space operations. At that point, the Air Force will be what it is today: an atmospheric force with only limited, ancillary space operations. Like Army aviation, the Air Force's space presence will be limited to activities that are essential to support its primary earthbound functions. This conclusion stems from two conditions that can be demonstrated in a fairly convincing manner: (1) We will always need an atmospheric, flying Air Force. That mission will prevent the Air Force from devoting itself exclusively to space and simply evolving into the US space force. (2) Space and air operations will differ so much that the two cannot reside in the same military household. They will demand different kinds of people, skills, and world views.
Logic and historical experience suggest that both these propositions are most likely to prove true. And, if they are true, the Air Force will always be deeply committed to air operations, and someone else will have to carry out missions in deep space. Yet (and this is important), that "someone" will grow out of today's Air Force, as a child grows out of its mother's womb. The Air Force will remain what it is, but it will give birth to the space force and nurture it through its childhood. If the Air Force handles its parental responsibilities wisely and generously, it will ensure a smoother, more efficient, less traumatic birth.
The persistence of air power follows logically from current conditions and the general lessons of military history. We can be sure that for many years to come, only a handful of powers will be capable of significant space operations. Space will be dominated by the same mature alliances of industrial nations that have managed the nuclear balance reasonably well, and they will probably maintain an effective deterrent balance that renders full-blown space war unlikely. This means that the world will continue much like today's--one in which nuclear and space power form a kind of containment structure that limits but does not eliminate conflict. Lesser nations will still seek to impose their wills through low-intensity warfare, and the great powers will mix in this process while avoiding open war with each other.
In this environment, the low visibility of the enemy will limit space observation, while world opinion and deterrence will shackle spaceborne weapons--much as nuclear power is rendered "powerless" in so many conflicts today. Thus, conventional air forces will remain vital for projection of national power, for low-intensity tactical operations against non-space-power foes, and for peacetime functions. Although this seems a pretty tame future for air power, it should not be underrated. It is, after all, precisely what air power has been doing since World War II.
In any event, the general lessons of military history strongly suggest that air power would play a vital role even if a superpower conflict involving full use of space power did break out. Granted, air power would have to adapt to changed battlefield conditions. Terrestrial combat against a foe with spaceborne observation/weapons would certainly be a tough chore, much more hectic and dangerous than anything known before. However, one great lesson of military history is mankind's genius for precisely that kind of adaptation.
Despite drastic changes in warfare over the ages, no major weapon category, no branch of the armed forces, and certainly no arena of conflict has ever been eliminated. Every prediction of obsolescence has proven false. To this day, edged weapons and animals have a role in war. Successful bayonet charges were mounted in World War II, Korea, Vietnam, and the Falklands. Animal transport proved as vital in Afghanistan as it did in the Italian mountains in World War II, and some of our North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) allies still have mule trains. One history of the l0th Armored Division in World War II contains a photo of US soldiers using a log battering ram in a German town. And there are reports of GIs using crude catapults to throw grenades in the French hedgerows. The machine gun did not render the foot soldier obsolete, the tank did not doom trenches and barbed wire, the bomber did not drive the battleship from the sea, the submarine did not eliminate surface vessels, and no "anti" weapon ever eliminated the thing it was "anti" to.
War becomes more complex as arsenals grow more sophisticated, and warriors seek the best combination for each war. Yet all arms find ways to adjust, albeit often in modified or reduced roles. Conclusion: no matter what happens in space, terrestrial (land, sea, and air) forces will always have vital roles.
To convince the doubters, one may find it helpful to examine why war manifests this odd blend of change and permanence. The reason is found in the tension between technological progress and human nature. War is a running battle between technology's propensity for rapid, radical change and human nature's obstinate refusal to change at all. Since war is above all a political and psychological process, human nature tends to win out over technology. As users of new weaponry, people rarely show the imagination, energy, and will to maximize its effectiveness. As the targets of new weaponry, the same people muster astounding amounts of imagination, energy, and will to frustrate the weapons and thereby ensure their own survival. Result: man's stubborn survival instinct always limits weapons to an effectiveness far below their theoretical potential.
The usual mechanisms for tempering a new weapon's impact include
All these factors will apply to space forces and keep land, sea, and air forces effective in the future--albeit under new pressures.
Additionally, two other nontactical factors often limit the effect of new weapons and may especially affect space forces. First, the tremendous cost of space forces, especially manned platforms, will limit their numbers for the foreseeable future. Given the enormity of the world's size and population, these numerical limits will hobble even sophisticated space forces' potential. Second, the human factor is not limited to tactical behavior. Man's survival instinct also affects political leaders and the general public and inspires changes in politico-military strategy. Homefolks and politicians will impose rules on war to protect themselves.
The limiting factor in the "fightability" of war is not so much the effects of weapons but the human tolerance of those effects. When one side or both decide the stress is too high, it (or they) will act to reduce the level of stress. This may mean ending the fighting by surrender, limitation, or truce (either formal or tacit). Or it may mean a change of strategy, such as gearing down to a lower-intensity form of combat (e,g., guerrilla resistance, in which high-tech forces are less effective).
We may expect all these techniques to be used to mitigate the impact of space operations on terrestrial conflict. We will use many of them ourselves. Much of the rest of this article discusses how we will use them to preserve the efficacy of air power. The bottom line is that every measure has a countermeasure and every countermeasure has a counter-countermeasure. War will rarely be a high-tech walkover and will never stay that way for long. It will always be a complex pattern of struggle, risk, and chance, in which victory depends on a complicated interaction of technology, numbers, leadership, training, morale, and strategic/tactical ideas.
In war, challenge is the flip side of opportunity. Whoever gets on top of a technical, tactical, or political development can meet the challenge and seize the opportunity. Whoever does this best wins.1 Today, in the infancy of space operations, we are mainly reaping the benefits of being a space power. Such operations increase the precision and reliability of our command-and-control infrastructure for military action on land, sea, and air (e.g., communications, reconnaissance, meteorology, navigation, etc.). These improvements do not change our enduring principles of organization, strategy, and tactics. They do improve the execution of those principles, reducing the "fog and friction" of war. They confer similar benefits on our most sophisticated rivals. However, we feel little pain because (1) we aren't actually fighting them and don't expect to and (2) at this stage, space would only make the familiar threat a little more efficient, not transform it into anything shockingly new.
However, as space surveillance improves--especially if and when earth-attack weapons are introduced into space--we and our foes will start to feel a cramp in our terrestrial (land, sea, and air) combat styles. We will have to start routinely adapting our terrestrial operations to the reality of observation and perhaps attack from the new "high ground" in space. This can be done, but it will be demanding and unpleasant. Life on the battlefield will become more hectic; we will have to make decisions and take action much faster. People doing the fighting will suffer more or less the same kinds of hardships and hazards as always, but the intensity and frequency of unpleasentries will be higher, and they will be much harder to escape from.
The kind of chaos that used to assail frontline combatants sporadically and rear-area forces only rarely may become a steady diet for all, if weapons are placed in space. It will become as easy for a space-power foe to destroy a truck being loaded onto a ship in Boston as to destroy it after its arrival in theater. Some may find this prospect unbearably frightening. However, by smart planning and training, we can prepare for this threat and operate successfully in such an environment.
As space surveillance improves, achieving strategic (global, long-term) surprise will become increasingly difficult unless we use methods that do not require massing of military forces. Catching a foe off guard will demand imaginative strokes that cannot be detected from space (e.g., subtle nonmilitary actions--political, economic, social, cultural, and psychological) to dislocate the enemy's posture and plans. Small military forces whose presence or intentions can be concealed will usually be more effective than much larger forces that cannot be hidden. Chemical, biological, weather-control, terror, and other "invisible" weapons will appeal to belligerents lacking scruples. To preserve the option of large-scale action, military forces will need radically improved camouflage/stealth measures. Old ideas will reappear on a grander scale: underground and underwater bases, facilities disguised as civilian activities, and so forth. Most such measures will lag behind space surveillance a long time, partly due to cost. In short, strategic surprise will depend on deceiving the foe.
Tactical (local, short-term) surprise can be achieved another way--as long as space observation data must be relayed to earth for analysis before it can be acted on. The detection-analysis-decision cycle creates a significant time lag, which can be exploited for tactical action. Instead of fooling the satellites, one need only act so fast that the enemy cannot react in time. However, this "window" will narrow when terrestrial commanders get direct, real-time access to space intelligence. This may be through direct field links to unmanned satellites, as their number and technical sophistication grow; or through manned space stations, which will exercise intelligent initiative in alerting commanders. It may be decades before this becomes a major factor, but it will happen and will begin to hamper tactical surprise.
Tactics will be hampered much more if and when space platforms graduate from tattling to shooting.2 Missiles, lasers, particle beams, and hypervelocity guns might all be fired from space against terrestrial targets. "Hampering" does not mean eliminating, however. Besides the inherent limits imposed on space observation/weaponry by cost and the earth's size, terrestrial forces can take passive and active countermeasures to protect themselves.
First, as mentioned, one can hide better. This means not only improved camouflage/stealth technology, but also broader technical and tactical evolution to make forces easier to camouflage. For the Air Force, this means reducing reliance on highly visible bases and logistics support by using vertical-takeoff aircraft and concealed bases. Other passive technology options include armor to shield aircraft against beam weapons and hypervelocity guns, and electronic countermeasures to "jam" the space weapons or the observation-and-computation gear that directs them.
Some tactical countermeasures also suggest themselves. One is expanded reliance on standoff attack, even at extreme ranges. Instead of long approaches to the target, vertical takeoff and landing (VTOL) aircraft would make brief hovers over their own hidden and/or fortified bases. They would offer the foe only fleeting targets, getting back into their ground shelters--mission accomplished--before return fire could arrive from space or ground weapons. (While ground-launched standoff weapons can do similar things, hovering aircraft offer some target-acquisition and lock-on ;advantages and can displace rapidly to new bases. Also, air-launched systems may be legal in cases where ground ones are banned by arms-control treaties. Finally, standoff missions are a way to use aircraft when conditions preclude conventional employment, just as unemployed tanks sometimes work as artillery.) Standoff action helps preserve surprise by letting us concentrate weapons on the target without concentrating the aircraft that launch them. Widely dispersed aircraft could attack the same target, and the foe would not know it was under attack until too late.
Another tactic is to exploit aircraft and pilot agility to evade fire. Any aircraft making extended flights w ill need to use ground-hugging tactics such is those that helicopters already use (to evade space-directed ground fire) and violent changes in speed and direction such as those that dogfighters use (to frustrate the aim of spaceborne gunners or dodge their fire). In short, against a foe with significant space forces, there will be little chance for straight-and level flying--not even for transport missions behind the lines. Virtually all aircraft will have to be high-performance, high-agility machines that spend most of their time very close to the ground. (This will demand quantum leaps in air traffic control and tactical air control, too, of course.)
A potentially controversial countermeasure would be to disguise air operations as civil aviation. Despite the moral and legal question marks, this is a gambit we may encounter even if we don't use it. A legal form of disguise would be to use decoy aircraft-remotely piloted vehicles (RPVS) or robot-piloted vehicles designed to simulate the sensor images of the real things--to provide cover for the real craft in their midst. In many cases, the "real" planes could be dispensed with altogether, and harder-to-kill, cheaper-to-lose RPVs would carry out the missions. Despite RPV nimbleness, losses could be high in a space war. That means we will need large numbers and the cost will be high, despite their relative cheapness per airframe. Nonetheless, it beats risking pilots and even more costly manned aircraft, so we can expect a big role for RPVS. Finally, air commanders may often have to use extremely small forces, which are easier to hide than big masses of aircraft.
Taken together, all these factors may substantially reduce the significance of traditional air superiority operations. As the space threat forces aircraft to adopt extremely low profiles, there won't be many accessible targets for our fighters and little chance for them to survive the chase anyway.
Using aircraft (manned or unmanned) under these conditions demands revolutionizing ground as well as air mobility. Aircraft and their support forces must master rapid, concealed ground movement between hidden, unprepared bases inside buildings, forests, caves, and so forth. Aviation must become like artillery: "shoot and scoot." Timing of exposed movement will become a critical skill, with units adjusting both to the foe on the ground and to the complex orbit schedules of satellites and space stations. Despite all, terrestrial forces will continue operating and will remain decisive, since the people who make war's all-important political decisions reside on the earth. In the end, a private with a bayonet in your parlor is more persuasive than a ray gun circling many miles above.
Space weapons will not be omnipotent, space surveillance alone even less so. Consider tanks: they are powerful beasts, yet there is still a role for infantry on the battlefield. There will always be targets that space stations cannot see, hit, or damage, due to camouflage, motion, or armor. An old-fashioned airplane will be able to handle some of these targets better, due to its shorter reaction time (including the short flight time of its weapons), closer vision, or better angle of attack. No space station can shoot into a horizontal cave, for example, but an aircraft can. Also, there's combat economics. With a multitude of possible targets on a major battlefield, it takes thousands of weapons to do the job. Since no one can afford so many space weapons, space forces will be precious resources that commanders reserve for special targets.
Even with the most sophisticated sensors and weapons, space forces are unlikely ever to totally overcome the protection earth targets get from terrain, vegetation, sea, and atmospheric effects. Even nuclear-weapon effects are attenuated by these factors, and space-weapon effects will be too. Deep surface features will provide cover against all except direct overhead fire, and caves can defeat even that. By exploiting such features, advanced air forces can survive and fight in space-war conditions. Battles are outrageously complex transactions, with niches for every conceivable weapon. By learning what the niches are and how to exploit them, we can ensure that aircraft remain powerful actors on future battlefields, even against space powers.
All of the foregoing, however, is about passive countermeasures. We've saved the best for last: active interference. Confederate cavalry leader Nathan Bedford Forrest reputedly got a message once from a desperate officer who was surrounded on all sides by overwhelming enemy forces. What should he do? Forrest's answer was "Fight em!" Simplistic as it sounds, that idea is the secret to the complexity of the battlefield--the continued value of traditional weapons and methods, and warfare's stubborn refusal to succumb to one supposed wonder weapon after another. War is a struggle of contending wills, not machinery. Man's obstinate, creative, even desperate will always seems to find ways to frustrate the wonder weapons. And the best way of all is to "fight 'em."
Even wonder weapons must be controlled by human minds and hands, and a burst of hot steel close to those minds and hands has a truly wonderful power to degrade the effectiveness of those weapons. It's called suppression. It works against machine guns, antiaircraft guns, tanks, and aircraft. It will work against space platforms. Weapons that can shoot down through the atmosphere to hit targets on earth can also be directed upwards, to hit targets in space. In fact, the guy on earth has some advantages: less concern about weapon weight, lower costs (permitting more weapons), a stable firing platform, the predictable motion3 and visibility/vulnerability of orbiting targets, and the use of terrain for cover/concealment. However, if antiaircraft experience is any indication, the effectiveness of ground-to-space fire won't satisfy the people ducking space-to-ground fire. Soon space powers will do what aviation powers started doing early in World War I-going after their harassers with manned combat craft.
If space war were preceded by a period of armed space peace, we could see the development of "watchdog" spacecraft. As permanently orbiting platforms or shuttles operating in shifts, they would shadow the armed platforms of potential foes to deter the firing of weapons and retaliate immediately against any hostile action. Besides the outrageous expense of such a system, it could lead to perilous harassment tactics like the "chicken" games the Soviet navy has sometimes precipitated. Nevertheless, the watchdog concept might be a useful counter to exceptionally threatening space platforms (e.g., those armed to attack strategic civilian targets).
Actual space combat may take two different forms and will probably take both. One is long-range exchanges of fire between permanently orbiting stations; the other involves fighter craft using speed and maneuver to attack from relatively close ranges (for reasons given below, those ranges may in fact be quite long). Fighters may be developed that can be launched from earth to penetrate space for a short time. However, the obvious limitations of such operations dictate that true space fighters--based on orbiting space stations--would eventually emerge for both attack and defense. Spacebased fighters would be essential for deep-space operations against high-orbit platforms. Some fighters could be operated by remote control or piloted by robots, but commanders will want the flexibility, adaptability, and initiative of human crews.
So far, it is easy to see space operations as a natural extension of the Air Force mission. The service already primarily responsible for providing overhead cover for our forces will just fly a little higher and a little faster to provide space cover as well. However, the deeper we move into space and the more extensive our space operations become, the harder this connection will be to maintain. Fighting in space will not simply be a case of flying higher and faster. It will be drastically different from air combat on earth. As the differences become ever clearer and more important, the need for an independent space force will arise.
The critical differences about the space environment are twofold: (1) the sheer nakedness of the place and (2) the unlimited three-dimensional quality of space flight, much more than just "altitude plus." We will not achieve a Buck Rogers performance--hiding behind the moon, zipping out to fire, then dodging behind some asteroid belt. For the foreseeable future, deep space will offer no place to hide. There will be nothing like clouds or mountains to shelter combat vehicles. Astronomical phenomena will be too distant or too thin to hide behind, though man-made objects may offer some limited hide-and-seek options in earth orbit.
This suggests that battles will be long-range affairs--cruising fights in which intervisibility will be continuous and relative motion leisurely. Spacecraft will be in sight of each other's sensors and human eyes for long periods. Closure rates and changes in relative position (i.e., angular changes in aim point) will be slow in terms of computer-aided reaction time, however rapid they may be in absolute terms.
The nakedness of space and deadliness of long-range weapons will make it hard to close with the enemy, so true maneuvering combat (i.e., anything resembling a dogfight) will be rare at best. Combat will resemble long-range interceptor missions or surface naval actions more than dogfights. Agility will still count, as a way to dodge weapons or baffle the aim of weapon operators. However, effective combat will revolve mainly around the sophistication of high-tech weapons and electronic-warfare equipment and skill in their use.
The likelihood of frequent hits in such no-concealment, no-cover combat will put a premium on armor, antimissile defenses (guns, beams, or antimissile missiles), systems redundancy, and damage control. Those requirements suggest larger vessels and crews. Yet the risk of catastrophic hits also suggests a "more-and-smaller-baskets" approach--large numbers of smaller craft to complicate enemy targeting and preserve the force despite losses. Study and experience will reveal how to balance those conflicting imperatives.
Add the demands of three-dimensional navigation/maneuvering on a grand scale, and it's clear that deep-space combat will be a radically new experience for which air combat provides no particularly relevant preparation. If anything, naval surface combat with its relatively slow, almost pure-geometry maneuvering might be a more relevant example for space fighters (albeit totally lacking the third dimension). No traditional terrestrial force is suited for this mission. A new kind of warrior, with different training and a different kind of military vision, is needed.
These people will be very much technical warriors. Their survival and success will depend on mastery of extremely sophisticated equipment, more than on anything else. Soldiers, sailors, and airmen must be as attuned to their environment as they are to their equipment. Space warriors, however, will be almost exclusively machine-oriented people, since their environment will offer little of tactical value. Tactically, they will operate in a purely geometrical arena. The ability to visualize constantly changing, almost infinitely variable angles and speeds in three dimensions (plus time) will be the soul of tactics.
Such war may be a grim, inelegant process of attrition, in which subtle differences in technical quality and skill will be multiplied by time into the decisive difference between winners and losers. There will be few Inchons in space, but there may be all too many Hamburger Hills. Poker may be a better metaphor for space war than chess.
Just as the Wright brothers had to invent not only the airplane itself but also a new kind of human being--the aviator--so will deep space demand development of true "spacemen." We can begin now to analyze what kind of people these will be. People who have flown in space can help us lay an orderly basis for their identification and training. But one way or another, they will emerge.4 And when they do, why can't the Air Force control them? Even if they aren't interchangeable with aviators, why shouldn't they fall under the Air Force umbrella? One might as well ask why the Air Force cannot fit under the Army umbrella.
The medium always dictates the profoundest and most insuperable boundaries between services. What is more set in concrete than the distinction between land, sea, and air? Even when operational requirements or history results in combining land, sea, and air forces in one service, the boundaries of the medium are never really overcome. There is more than a little evidence that Marines understand soldiers and Navy pilots understand Air Force flyers better than either group understands sailors. It's an example one could repeat in all the services.
Put a mixed bag of service people, in one room, stir for a while, then sit back and watch professional chemistry sort them out. The final discussion groups will be defined more by their media of conflict than the color of their uniforms. The fighter jocks will talk to fighter jocks--Air Force, Navy, and Marines (with perhaps some Army helicopter pilots trying to butt in). Marine grunts will talk to Army grunts (and Air Force parachutists). Seamen will swap tales with Army engineer boat operators and riverine-warfare veterans.
It is naive to think that space will be an exception to this rule. Space is at least as different from air as land and sea are, both tactically and in terms of human experience. In addition to the tactical differences discussed above, the mechanics of motion, propulsion systems, controls, and life-support systems are different. The physical and psychological demands and sensations are alien. Space vehicles will demand a quite different set of engineering, maintenance, supply, and in-flight expertise.
All these differences will lead to challenges against Air Force control of military deep-space operations. The challenge will not come from any existing service. Such challenges do not grow out of theory: they evolve from existing missions, hardware, and experience. They do not come from people who claim they could do it better: they come from people who are already doing it and want more freedom to exercise their own judgment. In other words, the challenge will come from within. It will resemble the Air Force's own struggle for independence from the Army. It will come from Air Force space people, who will insist that the old-fogey -airplane drivers de not understand space operations, are crippling them with old-fashioned aviation ideas, and cannot provide the leadership our space force needs.
The Air Force must begin now to prepare for this challenge. That does not mean girding for bureaucratic battle to protect its turf. It means preparing mentally to respect the spacemen's views and do what is best for the nation. It means planning ahead for a smooth, orderly, friendly emergence of an independent space force at just the right stage of development, as soon as it is ready to function on its own but not before.
If the Air Force tried to fight the inevitable, it would fail. Eventually, the space force will become independent. Fighting the inevitable would only distract from more important work and create bitterness in an arena where cooperation is essential (because the Air Force will operate under the space umbrella and because space and air operations will overlap in the transatmospheric regime). The lessons of the Air Force's own birth should make it sensitive to the need to avoid such a struggle.
A struggle would damage air power as much as it would space power. The air mission could get lost in a space-dominated organization. How? As space developed into a high-visibility, high-cost, "glamorous" military specialty, politics and public opinion could force Air Force leaders to favor the fair-haired space boys. Air operations could be neglected, even orphaned. Better that aviation should have its own "independent" Air Force to look after it. The Air Force must be careful not to become the dog that gets wagged by the space tail. The way to avoid that is to turn the space force loose before it gets too big for the doghouse.
This does not mean that the Air Force will have no role in space. It will continue to operate in shallow space, up to the point where the earth ceases to be the operational point of reference. The Air Force will launch and service satellites supporting terrestrial operations (though it may not monopolize this mission). Air Force shuttle astronauts will do in-space repairs. The Air Force will also man low-orbit military space stations (along with Army and Navy astronauts) to support terrestrial operations. The Air Force will also fight to defend these operations, with transatmospheric fighters or space fighters based on low-orbit stations.
Just as the Army operates a large force of aircraft working closely with its primary ground mission while leaving major air operations to the Air Force, so will the Air Force operate on the fringes of space to support its terrestrial mission while leaving deep space to the independent space force. Meanwhile, the Air Force will be adapting its equipment, training, and tactics to carry on effective air operations--down where it really counts, on earth, the home of those who ultimately decide the outcome of all conflict: civilian society.
Space war would make conflict much more harrowing for civilian society. They would find space weapons even harder to hide from than bombers in past wars. Perhaps the threat of this no-place-to-hide kind of war will create a powerful deterrent effect, rendering all-out space war as nearly unthinkable as nuclear war has proven to be. If so, the Air Force will be the proud parent of the forces that create that peace-preserving effect. In any case, beneath the space umbrella, the Air Force will continue to play a vital deterrent role in the medium it has mastered so well, where it has defended American liberty for so long: the air.
Notes
Harry F. Noyes III (BA, University of the South; MA, University of Hawaii) served four years of active duty in the Air Force after his ROTC commissioning in 1967. He was an information officer at Norton AFB, California, and Yokota AB, Japan, and a film researcher/scenarist at Tan Son Nhut AB, South Vietnam. Presently a civilian public affairs specialist at Headquarters US Army Health Services Command, Fort Sam Houston, Texas, he has been editor of the joint Army-Air Force Wiesbaden Post, Wiesbaden Military Community, West Germany, and a reporter covering military affairs at Fort Head, Texas, for the Killeen Daily Herald. He has written articles for a variety of publications.
Disclaimer
The conclusions and opinions expressed in this document are those of the author cultivated in the freedom of expression, academic environment of Air University. They do not reflect the official position of the U.S. Government, Department of Defense, the United States Air Force or the Air University.
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