SOCOM has three psychological-operations groups (POGs),
each about the size of a brigade. Two of
these organizations, the 2nd, of Parma, Ohio, and the
7th, in San Francisco are made up of reservists.
The Army’s only full-time, regular psyops unit is the
4th POG. It consists of six battalions, including one
serving the needs of each of the European,
Pacific, Central and Southern Unified Commands, plus a
battalion for print, radio and TV services and another
one for loudspeaker operations.
There also is a unit of 58 highly educated, multilingual
civilians, who conduct research, analysis and planning
Activities for the group.
"No matter how you cut it," Ayers said, "there’s only
1,200 of us for the entire world, and that’s not very
many."
Most uniformed members of the 4th POG are trained
paratroopers, authorizing them to wear the maroon
airborne beret. "Our mission is to deploy anywhere in
the world on short notice," the group’s operations officer,
Lt. Col. Thomas Evans, told National Defense. "Some of our
support personnel never get around to going to airborne
school, but all of our operators,those who go on deployments,
have to be airborne qualified."
Members of the 4th POG often have to deploy quickly with
Special Forces and other airborne units and set up psyops
missions, Evans explained. Typically, he noted, they fly
out of Pope Air Force Base, which is only two miles away
from Fort Bragg and is home to the 43rd Airlift Wing and
two squadrons of C-130s. Once the psyops missions are well
established, members of the 4th POG often are replaced by
deployed reservists.
The role of psychological operations is to convey
"selected information" to foreign governments,
organizations, military personnel and civilians in such a
way as to influence their emotions, motives, objective
reasoning and ultimately their behavior, said Evans.
The 4th POG works out of a product-development center, a
group of low-slung, military offices at Fort Bragg that is
nicknamed "CNN Central," because it is the centerpiece of
the organization’s broadcast and print operations.
"We don’t work with the kind of instantaneous speed of Ted
Turner’s network," Evans admitted. But the center is
capable of producing daily radio and television broadcasts
anywhere in the world, he noted. Unlike CNN, Evans explained,
the center doesn’t broadcast worldwide, 24-hours a day.
Instead, broadcasts are targeted to specific regions with
crises involving U.S. interests, Evans said. Programs are
produced both at Fort Bragg and in the field and broadcast
by EC-130E Commando Solo aircraft flying in a circle above
targeted areas.
In Yugoslavia, for example, psyops developed a 60 to 90-minute
program entitled "Allied Voice Radio and Television," a mix of
news, music and features related to the conflict. Video and
audio programs focused on the atrocities being committed in
Kosovo. They were aimed at Serbian military personnel and
civilians, on the one side, and ethnic Albanians in Kosovo and
nearby refugee camps, on the other.
The broadcasts continued for weeks after the air campaign ended
in June of 1999, because NATO initially had no other means of
reActive Componenthing the populations in the area.
The programs painted an acurate picture of what was happening,
Evans said. "Everything we do is based on the truth," he said.
"We are most effective when we are credible. We can’t afford to
lose that."
Print facilities range from massive, four-color presses that
never leave Fort Bragg to lighter versions that are capable of
deployment on C-130s and operating in tents with diesel-powered
generators, said Evans. The presses are used to print posters,
handbills and leaflets by the hundreds of thousands, even millions.
During the 1999 NATO air war in Yugoslavia, for example, psyops
developed a series of leaflets urging Serb forces to "leave your
unit and your equipment and get out of Kosovo now."
During that campaign, more than 104.5 million of such leaflets-
packed into leaflet bombs or boxes rigged with static lines were
dropped from MC-130s, F-16s and B-52s.
Leaflets were dropped from as high as 20,000 feet, in order for
the aircraft to evade SAMs. Unfortunately, that made it difficult
to predict where they were going to fall, said Evans. "In some
cases, they didn’t even land in the right country," he said.
Enough of the leaflets, however, did hit their targets to do
their jobs, Evans said. One of the best indicators of leaflet
effectiveness, he said, is enemy counter-propaganda. "If they
didn’t notice," he asked, "they wouldn’t complain, right?" Serb
civil-defense headquarters put out warnings to avoid touching
the leaflets, claiming that they were booby trapped with bio-
chemical agents.
For refugees in Albania and Macedonia, psyops distributed 40,000
copies of a biweekly camp newspaper containing international news,
sports reports and other information directly concerning Kosovo
and Yugoslavia.
During the Persian Gulf War, psyops officers heard that Iraqi
soldiers carrying "safe-passage" leaflets encouraging them to
desert and seek refuge behind U.S. lines were being executed by
their commanders. So they designed full-color leaflets that
looked exactly like Iraqi currency on one side. The other side
contained detailed surrender instructions in the Iraqi language.
"Iraqi soldiers could hide the leaflets with their own money,
making it difficult for their officers to find," Evans said. As
a result of such ploys, hundreds of thousands of Iraqi soldiers
surrendered.
Sometimes, the 4th POG finds it more efficient to turn to outside
contractors, even when it could do the work itself. For example,
"We could produce comic books, if we had to," Evans said.
Instead, the group contracted with DC Comics to produce special
versions of Superman and Wonder Woman comic books in the languages
of the Balkans, Central America, Africa and Southeast Asia, among
others teActive Componenthing the dangers of land mines.
"It would have been difficult for us to match the drawing style of
the comics, not impossible, but difficult," Evans said.
In addition to radio and television programs and printed material,
psyops makes widespread use of loudspeakers. One battalion in the
4th POG has helicopter-mounted loudspeakers, with a range of two
to three miles; versions for HMMWVs (Humvees), with a range of
1,000 to 1,800 meters, and others that fit into backpacks, that
reach 700 to 1,000 meters.
Loudspeakers are used to broadcast messages into foxholes, trenches
and city streets, where radio and TV programs, for one reason or
another, cannot reach. "The loudspeakers help clear enemy soldiers
and civilians out of target areas," said Lt. Col. Brian Keeth,
psychological-operations branch chief at SOCOM in MActive ComponentDill.
Sometimes, they do it through the persuasiveness of messages, psyops
officers said. Other times, sheer noise helps do the job. For example,
they noted an operation in Panama in 1989, when they used several days
of loud rock music and bright flood lights to help persuade former
dictator Manuel Noriega to surrender.
Although he is proud of such successes, it would be a mistake to
become too concerned about technology, according to Evans. Some of
psyops’ greatest successes, such as use of minstrel shows and silk-
screen T-shirts in Thailand, involve very simple technology, he
insisted.
Many psyops missions, Evans said, involve sending personnel out to
distribute leaflets, handbills, newspapers and other products to
targeted audiences and to talk to them, face-to-face, in their own
languages.
In fact, Evans said, psyops personnel and language skills are key
concerns. Most psyops troops are non-commissioned officers and above,
he said. Many have at least some college education.
Too few, however, are fluent in a second language, he said. "No matter
how well you train a U.S. soldier in a foreign language, he or she is
never as good as a native speaker."
Every member of the 4th POG is supposed to be articulate in a second
language, Evans said. "But that’s very difficult to achieve."
The command tries to recruit native speakers, he noted. It has
succeeded in attracting many Hispanics, but it has had a hard time
finding recruits who are fluent in languages of many regions where
deployments are taking place, such as the Balkans, the Middle East and
Africa.
"Of all the U.S. personnel who deployed to Somalia, for example, only
two were native speakers," Evans said. "One of them turned out to be
the son of one of the warlords."
As a result of this shortage, psyops produced a brochure that "was
poorly translated" into Somali and had "a negative impact," Evans said.
Psyops also is having trouble recruiting talented broadcasters and
writers, explained Capt. John Donaldson, commander of the psyops
broadcast element. "I need people who are skilled at what they do," he
said. "I have about a third of the people that I need to man everything
that I’ve got."
It’s difficult to attract talented communicators into the Army as
enlisted personnel, he said, and once you train people to do the work,
"they can take that commodity into the outside market and make far more
money than the Army can pay them."
Another factor in the retention problem is the frequency of deployment,
said Capt. John Dzienny, commander of print operations. "When these guys
are good, they deploy a lot," he said. "But that gets old after a while.
Once they get married and have kids, they don’t want to do that anymore."
By Kathleen T. Rhem
American Forces Press Service
WASHINGTON, Oct. 23, 2002 -- Army Capt. Britton London said
he's always loved children. But heading to Afghanistan in
May while his wife was at home and pregnant really made him
notice the circumstances Afghan children are living in.
London is a civil affairs team leader assigned to the 96th
Civil Affairs Battalion at Fort Bragg, N.C. He looks the
part of the career infantry officer that he is -- tall,
broad-shouldered, clean-shaven. But his insights into the
lives of children in Afghanistan -- and his honest
admissions of how they affected him -- may not be so
stereotypical.
"When I went over there, I didn't really know what to
expect," the 15-year veteran said. "But after I arrived,
the children of Afghanistan just stole my heart, especially
the young girls."
He said he was horrified at the oppression Afghan girls had
lived with under the now-deposed Taliban regime, and just
as heartened at their recent introduction to societal
freedoms and education.
"The girls had been oppressed for so many years, seeing
(them) start school was just an awesome experience," London
said in an interview during a recent Pentagon visit.
Spending time with the children of Afghanistan put his own
life in perspective, he said. Britton Jr. was born about a
month after London returned from Afghanistan. The new dad
said he plans to teach his son to "appreciate the things he
has and to help those who do not have so much."
He also said he hopes someday to have a daughter, so he can
"sit her down and tell her how blessed she is to grow up in
a society where women are equal."
London said any daughter of his will grow up appreciating
her freedoms and hearing that "if ever she has the
opportunity to help make that same situation anywhere else,
then she needs to jump onboard."
He admitted his reactions might have been colored by the
impending birth of his first child. "Just to see these kids
every day and to know I had one coming," he said, "I just
wanted to be able to provide as much as I could for them."
He's in the right job to do that. Military civil affairs
units work to build relationships with local populations
and help them improve their own lot. London said he's
grateful he was transferred from the infantry to civil
affairs, because this assignment gives him an opportunity
to help people in many ways. He also tries to spread the
message to the American people that this country's help is
needed in Afghanistan.
"I just try to convey to the people here that the people of
Afghanistan were victims," he said. "They were oppressed
for many years, and it's good that we're out there doing
the job to make it better for them."
But still, the discussion came back to the children. Not
quite to anyone in particular, he mused, "The children are
so beautiful."
By Kathleen T. Rhem
American Forces Press Service
WASHINGTON -- Sgt. 1st Class Victor Andersen
had never seen a donkey bite before. That's
why he couldn't identify the large crescent-
shaped wound on a young boy in Afghanistan.
In fact, the Special Forces medical sergeant
saw a lot ofbthings in Afghanistan that he
never expected to see.
Andersen, a member of the 96th Civil Affairs
Battalion from Fort Bragg, N.C., recently
returned from a seven-month stint in
Afghanistan. He shared some of his experiences
in an interview during a Pentagon visit in
October.
He came across the injured boy, believed to be
around 9 or 10 years old, on a routine trip in
the Orgun Valley region. "He had the strangest
laceration, a perfect horseshoe shape," Andersen
said.
He said it resembled a bite, "but it was way too
big to be from somebody's mouth." The wound was
clear through the boy's hand to the bone.
The wound was several hours old and had to be
scraped out and disinfected. Andersen wasn't
carrying anesthetics, but the boy didn't need any.
"These kids are tough as nails," he said. "He just
stood there as stoic as could be and just
appreciating the attention."
Only after someone arrived who could talk to the
boy did Andersen learn about the boy, his donkey
and the wound. "Then he rode off on the same
donkey," he said.
Civil affairs teams work with local governments and
civilian aid organizations to rebuild infrastructure
and build stability in an area. As a Special Forces
medic on a civil affairs team, Andersen has been
trained in all aspects of health care, including
general surgery, dentistry, obstetrics, and even
veterinary practices.
While he was able to help the boy with the donkey
bite, the career soldier said he saw many things in
Afghanistan that were beyond his abilities. He worked
closely with soldiers from the 947th Forward Surgical
Team, an Army Reserve medical unit from Connecticut.
Together, the civil affairs team and Reserve unit built
a hospital for the Orgun Valley, provided routine care
to civilians in the region, responded to emergencies and
trained local care providers in modern standards.
Most local doctors had been trained in Pakistan decades
before and had received no updated training since.
Andersen said the most common medical treatment before
the Americans' arrival was egg yolk and tobacco spit.
"They would rub this into any wound," he said. He spoke
of a man the team saw who had a dislocated wrist. Here's
how local hospital's doctors treated him: "Egg yolk and
tobacco spit," Andersen said. "This was their cure for
everything."
Andersen said he saw "a hundred years' worth of change"
during his stay in terms of medical care available to
the local civilian population.
"They're so accustomed to no help being available that
when someone reaches a condition (of a certain level of
seriousness), they expect the person to die," he said.
The sergeant noted the Afghans' average life span is 44,
"and most don't make it that far."
Andersen said most Afghans seem fairly healthy, but
added with some bitterness that's because the ones who
aren't healthy die. He said he believes the American
soldiers' caring for the people and improving the skills
of local care providers have begun to change the sense
of fatalism held by most Afghan civilians he came to know.
The Afghans saw what the Americans were willing to do to
help -- the care, the importance placed on timely
treatment, and the fact the Americans would send
helicopters to medevac their injured and sick children
and anyone else who was sick. "The value we put on human
life was just amazing to them," Andersen said.
One area he said he didn't see much progress in was
medical care for women. He never delivered a baby in
Afghanistan and only once saw women as patients, during a
medical capabilities exercise in a local village. And even
then, he didn't really "see" them.
"They would cover up one eye, and I could check that eye.
Then they'd cover up that eye, and I could check the other.
Then they'd cover their eyes, and I could look in their
mouths," Andersen said in describing his frustration in
dealing with local cultural taboos. "They thought they
were cooperating, but they're just not ready for an actual
exam."
Andersen and the other medical workers carried "well-
stocked" aid bags wherever they went. People would often
approach team members to seek treatment for minor
injuries and illnesses.
"The people would know that we had the capability for
medical care, so they would come up to us and show us
every cut, scrape, rash, and old gunshot wound," Andersen
said. "They thought we could fix about everything."
The team members also made house calls. "We would have
people bring us notes. Some were translated into English,
some weren't. Others would bring us information on
families who needed help," Andersen said, noting the
soldiers never refused anyone care.
Some cases were more harrowing than others. He recalled
the time three young brothers, ages 4, 7 and 9, were
playing with machine-gun ammunition that exploded and
critically injured all three. "They were covered in blood,"
he said. "Two of them we weren't sure if we were going to
be able to save or not." One child ended up with his
spleen removed, another had a hand amputated, and the third
had a punctured lung. Members of the 947th operated on --
and saved -- all three. "We were able to return them home
alive," Andersen said, with a noticeable sense of
satisfaction. "The people who brought them didn't think
that was possible."
That story ended happily, but not all of his doing.
Andersen recalled another boy he treated who'd been
grievously wounded while playing with unexploded ordnance.
The 5-year-old was trying to dismantle a 107 mm rocket
when it exploded, he recounted. The boy lost his left foot,
right hand, all but two fingers on his left hand, and his
spleen. He had a punctured lung and a pierced bowel, and
he was blinded in the explosion.
"We saved him," Andersen said. And to people who think the
boy would have been better off dead, he simply says that
wasn't their call.
"We don't care what their injuries are. We don't care what
they're going back to," he said. "If they're hurt, we do
what we can."
Unfortunately, the child's parents didn't feel that way.
They later sent a message that they didn't have the means
to care for him and would rather he die.
"That, to me, is pathetic," Andersen said in undisguised
pain. "They've gotten so used to having no value on human
life that they weren't willing to take care of him. That
will stick in my memory."
The medical team Andersen worked with performed 107
surgeries while he was there and lost only one patient.
Andersen remembers that as a traumatic day.
A suicide bomber brought a grenade into a crowd of police
officers. Four officers were wounded; two required
lifesaving surgery. Shrapnel pierced the bomber's heart,
and he died in surgery.
"If he had hugged a grenade in an emergency room in
Washington, D.C., no surgeon could have done a better job
than what we tried to do," Andersen said.
All four injured police officers recovered from their
wounds. "They were all back working by the time I left,"
Andersen said. He added that those memories are the ones
he prefers to focus on.
"The only person we lost was that suicide bomber," he said.
"Other than that, it was all miracles. It was good to be a
part of it."
by Spc. Kyle J. Cosner
FORT BRAGG, N.C. (Army News Service, Aug. 28, 2002)
Nearly 50 soldiers from the 96th Civil Affairs Battalion
(Airborne) recently garnered a variety of awards for their
efforts as part of Operation Enduring Eagle. The awards
were presented in a ceremony at Fort Bragg's "Bull" Simons
Plaza Aug. 26. "We're here today to recognize and to
celebrate the service, valor, bravery and dedication of
these fine officers and noncommissioned officers," said Maj.
Gen. Herbert L. Altshuler, commander of the U.S. Army Civil
Affairs and Psychological Operations Command (Airborne).
Altshuler presided over the ceremony and presented the awards.
Presented honors included the Bronze Star Medal, Army
Commendation Medal with "V" device, Combat Infantryman Badge,
Combat Medical Badge, Navy and Marine Corps Achievement Medal
and the Army Achievement Medal. The 49 civil affairs soldiers
receiving the awards had been deployed to either Afghanistan
or the Philippines, assisting those nations with the task of
eliminating terrorism and rebuilding infrastructure. The civil
affairs soldiers also provided food and technical assistance
to local populations. "The awards being made here today are
more than a bit of colored cloth," Altshuler said. "They are
universally recognized throughout our armed forces as symbols
of meritorious service, selfless dedication and heroism in the
face of, and in contact with, an armed force." Capt. Curtis
Anderson, a 96th team leader and Bronze Star recipient, said
his award was a validation of his team's hard work. "It means
all the work my team did in Afghanistan paid off," Anderson
said. "It is not so much a personal award as it was a team
effort." Other recipients echoed Anderson's feelings about
the teamwork found within their battalion. "(Getting these
awards) is a great honor, but it was even nicer to be
recognized with my fellow soldiers," said Sgt. 1st Class Byron
R. Shrader, a 96th team medic. Shrader received both the Army
Commendation Medal with "V" device and the Combat Medical Badge.
"We went there as a group, and all that we do...is a team
concept, and I am just one of the members of a team," Shrader
said. "Certainly, this recognition is not solely for me, but for
all those that have helped me on this particular mission and
during my career in the Army." Lt. Col. Michael J. Warmack,
commander of the 96th Civil Affairs Battalion (Airborne), said
that although he was glad to see his soldiers recognized for
their achievements, he was happier just to see them come home in
one piece. "We're getting a lot of awards, but none of them are
Purple Hearts," Warmack said. "That's a good thing." Altshuler
thanked the awardees for doing their duties without fanfare or
loss of life. "Congratulations -- you have acquitted yourselves
with honor in the crucible of armed conflict," he said. "You have
won the battle, and with it our gratitude and our respect. Thank
you for your service, for your sacrifices and your continued
dedication to being quiet professionals. "All of us here, and all
Americans everywhere, can be justifiably proud of these brave men.
I certainly am."
(Editor's note: Spc. Kyle J. Cosner is assigned
to the USASOC Public Affairs Office.)
By Linda D. Kozaryn
American Forces Press Service
BAGRAM AIR BASE, Afghanistan, May 30, 2002 -- As veteran
civil affairs specialists, it's up to Army Reserve Capt.
Steven McAlpin and Sgt. 1st Class Juan Morales to bridge
the gap between U.S. and coalition forces here and their
Afghan hosts.
On a typical morning, the civil affairs team is in a
sparsely furnished office just inside the main gate at this
Afghan air base. McAlpin has just returned from a meeting,
and Morales is fielding calls and walk-in visitors when an
Afghan officer comes in with an interpreter.
Col. Mir Dirwish, who heads Northern Alliance security
forces at the base, is concerned about a security issue. He
says Pakistani drivers without proper identification or
credentials are delivering fuel to the base.
McAlpin and Morales know tensions are high between Afghans
and Pakistanis at the air base. A week or two earlier, the
civil affairs team was asked to intervene when a Pakistani
driver came on base with no identification. McAlpin said he
told the driver he was lucky he hadn't been killed.
"It was like throwing a piece of meat into a pool of
piranhas," Morales noted later.
McAlpin and Morales invite Dirwish and the interpreter to
have a seat and for the next 30 minutes or so, listen
intently as the colonel talks through the interpreter about
force protection issues. McAlpin assures the Afghan officer
that U.S. and coalition military officials at the base are
working to establish a fuel transfer point.
Appearing less tense than when he arrived, the Afghan
officer rises to leave, places his hand over his heart, an
Afghan gesture of thanks, and bows slightly to the
Americans. After a few more parting remarks on both sides,
Dirwish grasps each American's shoulders in a hug and then
departs.
"He's a very intelligent, very strong-willed person with a
good intent. He wants to help Afghanistan," McAlpin says of
the Northern Alliance soldier.
The colonel's visit is just one example of daily reserve
civil affairs team business. It's far different from what
team members do back home in civilian life.
McAlpin, a 24-year reservist from Rochester, N.Y., is a
special education teacher in civilian life. He served as an
enlisted carpenter for 12 years before becoming an infantry
officer and civil affairs specialist.
Morales, a 19-year reservist, also from Rochester, works as
a state corrections officer in Albion, N.Y. He served on
active duty for three years with the 82nd Airborne Division
at Fort Bragg, N.C., before joining the Army Reserve.
The men arrived in Afghanistan in January and their
deployment is pretty much open-ended. They expect they'll
remain for close to a year. It's their second overseas
deployment. Both served in Bosnia, McAlpin in 1996, and
Morales in 1997.
"It's funny, because I never went anywhere as active duty,"
Morales said. "I join the reserve and I've been deployed
twice."
They were sent to serve as liaisons between the Joint
Coalition Military Operation Task Force and host-nation
officials. Their job has evolved in many directions.
"We've got the best job on base," McAlpin said. "The Afghan
generals and the colonel -- there are very few people on
base that hug these guys or hold their hands walking down
the stairs."
"They have done it to us, and it's a sign that you're
'in,'" Morales explained. "That means that you have their
trust." Among the Afghans, a man's word is important, he
added. "There are no contracts; it's all word of mouth."
Rank doesn't mean anything to the Afghan people, McAlpin
said. It's the relationship that counts.
"We've bent over backward to help him out, and he's bent
over bActive Componentkward to help us out," he said. "If you appeal to a
person's honor here, it's like butter on your bread. It's
genuine. It's from the heart.
"We have never made a promise that we couldn't keep, or if
we were unable to keep it, we'd explain exactly why we
couldn't do it," the captain continued.
Since setting up shop, McAlpin and Morales have dealt with
everything from shots being fired by a drunken Afghan
soldier at a Northern Alliance general's house to helping
restore a local school. The local school administration
wasn't supporting the school because girls attended,
McAlpin said, so U.S. engineers on base decided they would.
"We delivered 208 desks that the 92nd Engineers made to
kids who had nothing," Morales said. "They were sitting on
the floor."
The team also lined up a school bus for the students, did
some volunteer teaching and started a program where Spanish
coalition soldiers are helping to build a school. They also
helped restore relations between coalition leaders and an
Afghan general after military police searched his car.
McAlpin said the general was so insulted he turned around
and left and vowed not to return to the base. The civil
affairs team employed their reconciliation skills to get
the general back on base.
"We did our homework on him and learned he was the only one
who defended this land when everybody else left while the
fight was going on," McAlpin said.
The civil affairs work extends beyond the confines of the
office. The team visits villages and dines with local
officials. After exchanging pleasantries and family news,
the men get down to the business at hand. Both said they
studied on their own before deploying to be aware of Afghan
cultural traditions and sensitivities.
Their job is key to helping the military avoid cultural
roadblocks and resolving problems that arise. "We get
involved in bringing the people together to put out any
fires that develop," McAlpin said.
"People say we're the buffers," Morales concluded. "We're
the mediators."