Jaeger—versatile, creative, crafty, opportunistic, aggressive, smarter than his prey. A Jaeger aviator, employing maneuver warfare in three dimensions, fighting in a future so much different from anything we’ve imagined, will need these character traits.
Eritrea, 2018. Mike Dozier sat in the sun-baked cockpit of his two-seat Pucara II running through his preflight checks, when Billy Bucheski, his back-seater, came up on the intercom. A barrel-chested former SEAL, Bucheski had transitioned into the regiment along with the rest of Mike’s original company years before. In the air, he was flight observer, communications technician, and gunner; on the ground, he was the regimental medical officer.
They had flown to the base—245 miles inland—with the rest of the 1st Company of the Jaeger Regiment to support a U.N.-backed government against a rebel uprising. Government forces, supported by several multinational corporations and the resurgent Pan-European Christian Reconstructionist Movement, consisted of small infantry units, a scattering of armored vehicles—and no air power.
Mike’s aircraft was heavily armed, with many hard points under the wings and a chin-mounted 30- mm cannon, directed by helmet-mounted sights worn by the pilot or the gunner. With its high-technology, lightweight reactive armor lining the fuselage and critical component areas, the aircraft was built to take punishment. There were always limits, however—and they had lost some friends along the way.
The rebels were armed with automatic weapons, artillery, man-portable air-defense systems, and— reportedly—a dozen light tanks. The guerrillas were sponsored by competing multinational corporations who had joined conveniently with an ethnically-motivated global society opposed to the Eritreans’ attempts to run their own country.
Ten minutes to takeoff—it reminded him of Fallon on a hot August afternoon. . . .
Naval Air Station Fallon, Nevada, 1998. A young and idealistic Mike Dozier reported to the hangar along with 78 other applicants for the newly-forming 4th Company of the Jaeger Regiment. They were what was left of hundreds of applicants culled by written and oral examination, military reputations, and interviews (the Jaeger selection board eschewed U.S. military fitness reports, which had become so politicized as to be useless in determining character).
Just about every branch of service was represented: Navy, Marine Corps, Army, and Air Force aviators, air crews, Special Forces troops, infantry and armor officers—plus applicants from other allied nations. Surface warfare officers competed for the few liaison billets. The Regiment was the first U.S. armed service organization to cross such boundaries.
Those who made it would stay together throughout their ten-year tour. Camaraderie beckoned. Officers he trusted told him that the Regiment was the best thing going for someone who saw the military as a calling—not just a job.
Final selection started with examinations that tested the applicants’ knowledge of military history, their grasp of professional military topics, awareness of current and future technologies, creative abilities, and their ability to solve difficult military and non-military problems. The phrase coup d’oeil swirled in his head. Then came the war games. They fought with and against each other. The games ranged from the old box games with cardboard counters to virtual reality simulators. When they weren’t wargaming, they went through endless case studies of historic battles—and hypothetical ones created by the instructors. The critiques were wide-open, non-confrontational affairs. They went out in the field and hunted each other; Mike rarely ended up second-best.
The group thinned by 50% and he made the cut; those remaining moved into their specialty areas— for Mike, aviation. As in most professions, a few aviators excel, a few never should have make it through flight school—and most are pretty much the same regarding pure ability to maneuver an aircraft. What sets one aviator apart from another, even the best ones, is inherent aggressiveness: does the aviator live to fly ... or does he fly to fight? The stick-and-throttle guys are a dime a dozen; the warriors are harder to find. The Jaegers were looking for the warriors.
They taught him to fly a simple, propeller-driven aircraft and then sent him out on missions ranging from nap-of-the-earth flight to air-to-air combat against helicopters. He learned to be an airborne forward air controller, keeping many variables in his head while monitoring—and sometimes directing—artillery fire and the movement of ground troops in addition to identifying opposing ground forces and watching out for aggressor aircraft.
The Regiment maintained a few well-armored, capable helicopters—with crews to match—as its own combat search-and-rescue force. Supported by fixed-wing Jaegers, it was a formidable presence.
Camp Lejeune, North Carolina, 1999. Twenty-six were named to the 4th Company—and they all went to an infantry battalion for a year. He met Bucheski there. Mike’s interest in medical things complemented Billy’s interest in things that flew. During their year on the ground they formed an unbeatable team. Billy had the instinctive knowledge of unconventional warfare, and Mike the familiarity with the way air assets worked. The Regiment recognized no distinctions between the air war and the ground war.
There was little down time that year. From Lee’s Lieutenants to Martin van Creveld’s books on military history to Erwin Rommel, they immersed themselves in what the masters had to say about tactics and maneuver warfare. Regular discussions with older hands during weekly seminars brought out the key points and kept the lessons fresh. The senior Jaeger officers monitoring the company took pains to ensure that the battalion’s infantry officers understood what Jaeger aviation could do for them. The infantrymen, living in the field with the young Jaegers, day in and day out, rain or shine, grew to understand the commitment involved.
Naval Air Station Oceana, Virginia, 2000. After the year with the infantry battalion, they picked up their aircraft—ten cheap-to-operate fixed-wing aircraft. During their first three-year flying tour, Mike and Billy flew in four regional conflicts and one outright war. They had no collateral duties—others handled these tasks. They fought.
Beirut, Lebanon, 2003. After their first flying tour, the company members went to various international military ground units for a year’s training. Dozier and Bucheski, both single, managed to get themselves assigned to a group in the Pan-Islamic Fundamentalist Society who, though a little on the fringe, nonetheless were still members in the United Nations and had some very radical ideas on urban warfare. Arabic was tough, but they became reasonably fluent.
Interlude—Bangkok, Thailand After that year, the company—minus six lost in action—gathered overseas to compare and synthesize their experiences. With such input, the regiment was as well informed as any modem combat unit.
NAS Oceana, 2006. They began a five-year flying tour. Certain individual talents naturally emerged. Leaders, regardless of the quality level of the group, will inevitably surface. The company selected its own commanding officer by vote and then did the same for the other leadership positions.
During their ground time during this tour, they focused on the operational level of war. Their case studies, battle problems, and war games continued, but the scale shifted from tactical issues to theater and campaign concerns. They read Clausewitz, Sun Tzu, Summers, and Asprey. The discussion groups continued.
Mike and Billy saw more combat; they were shot down twice. A hidden shotgun, Mike’s shooting, Billy’s unconventional warfare experience, and their Arabic helped them survive.
NAS Oceana, 2011. The five years ended and they had a big decision. Take their combat experience and expertise back to their parent service . . . and take their chances on promotion—or stay where they were, serving in advisory positions for follow-on Jaeger companies, providing expertise to other units— and possibly, some day, commanding the Regiment.
Most, including Mike and Billy, stayed; others, for personal or career reasons, decided to leave. It all worked out.
Eritrea, 2018. Cleared for takeoff, Mike pushed up the power. The Regimental commander and his old friend had troops to support, an enemy to hunt ....
Commander Gattuso, a naval aviator, is the requirements officer and liaison to the acquisition community at the Naval Strike Warfare Center, NAS Fallon, Nevada. He flew A-7Es and F/A-18s prior to his selection as an Aerospace Engineering Duty Officer.