Introduction
Four airships, outfitted with the most advanced weaponry possible in key locations, maneuver against one another in a low altitude battle. Making use of what cover they can, the Captains of these vessels attempt to place themselves in the best possible position to lay effective fires on their enemies. This engagement may take several minutes to complete, or even longer, depending on the arrival of reinforcing craft, or the quality of engineering personnel on board each craft. The weapons will cycle, the engines will roar, and in the end an entire crew will lay scattered on the deck below, or amongst the waves.
Victorious, a crew celebrates their battle with elated cries.
Hours, or perhaps days later, a member of that same crew could be nearly incapacitated by anxiety at the sound of gunfire, the sight of an enemy ship, or the mere mention of enemy contact. Although the engagement went well, the enemy was destroyed and the skills of the crew have been validated through the fires of combat, the events that transpired during that brief encounter may well haunt the victors until the grave.
What is the determining factor in the resilience of successful combat teams? Why are some able to destroy an aggressor seemingly without consequence while others take their own lives over the events of a single battle? What follows is an explanation of the rigors of interpersonal violence and their effects on those few that call the skies their battleground.
Charon January 3
Member
Fear of Interpersonal Violence
In wars past (and still in some of the more unstable regions of our world), the use of ground troops to conduct warfare was extremely common. Earlier styles of warfare were particularly illogical by most modern standards, and involved standing tightly together in various formations, trading fire with enemy forces from a static position. With tightly controlled movements and maneuvers, these formations would employ basic large-unit strategies against one another: Flanking, large scale fire and movement (devoid of characteristic suppression and approach), and close combat were commonly employed. In this style of warfare, entire companies of men could levy fires upon one another. It would seem sensible, then, to assume that casualties were incredibly high and mortality even moreso.
Interestingly enough, firsthand accounts of these battles (while rare) give us incredible insight into the manner in which these battles were fought. Though discipline was strictly instilled in these large units, to include close-order drill and battle drills, the amount of individuals that would actually engage enemy forces with intent to kill were suprisingly low. An estimated 15-20 percent of individuals would actually fire their weapons at enemy forces, while the remaining personnel would presumably fire high, or even withhold fires completely. One out of every five combatants would seek the death of his enemy.
There is, within each of us, an innate fear of interpersonal violence. Only a select few may circumvent it naturally, and most require intense training to get past it.
As it applies to current aerial warfare, the percentage of enemy engagement has skyrocketed to nearly 90 percent. Most gunners will utilize their weaponry, regardless of the effecs they may have against their fellow man, without being told to do so. No supervision is commonly required, and in most cases, gunners will even transition across the deck of a moving ship to rapidly engage a target from another weapon with better azimuth on the enemy. Why has this number increased so drastically?
Or has it actually increased in the first place?
A closer look at the behavior of gunnery personnel sheds a bit of light on the topic. While in past and even current ground wars, the enemy was the profile of a human being, with a face, a name, a family, the current target is a large warship of iron and wood. These materials, even when assembled into something that we know to house human beings, represent a target that most gunners are able to view as somewhat inanimate: Some even go so far as to consider them only as silhouettes that require leading.
Despite this somewhat removed thought process, seemingly devoid of compassion for other human beings, it should be noted that the majority of gunners do not engage the positions of other gunners. This is especially true in the case of newly recruited personnel, who will generally target the larger, non-populated balloon of the ship (much to the frustration of any experienced crew members). Even in the case of Mercury Field Gunners, who can very easily utilize the mounted scope in order to lay precision fires on occupied stations, this remains true.
So, while the propensity for a gunner to engage a target has increased, we see that there remains a basic aversion to the taking of human life.
Training Methods
The training of a fresh crew is no simple undertaking, as any seasoned pilot can attest (particularly in the case of engineering personnel, in the absence of a master engineer). Many pilots are content to even allow crews to board their craft without any prior training, or validation of experience. For those who do choose to take on the difficult task of molding a crew, gunnery appears to be largely overlooked. While there may be a brief session regarding leading targets, or even loading specialized ammunition, guidance on where to strike an enemy vessel (of arguably greater importance) to cause the greatest damage is limited.
Currently available training grounds present static targets that fire weak training rounds, but present no simulated enemy positions on board. Regardless of this handicap, directing gunnery personnel to engage only the weaponry of enemy target craft could easily produce the desired effect in an actual force situation. Firing on unmanned enemy hardpoints could even increase the propensity of the gunner to engage populated stations without increasing the potential threat of traumatic stress.
Closing with and engaging the enemy can present its own challenges, as well. Closing the distance increases the probability of gunnery personnel seeing the enemy directly, and engaging in close quarters combat. To prepare your crew for the possibility of close quarters engagements, marksmanship training with crew-served weaponry as well as personal weaponry should be conducted using man-shaped silhouettes, in and out of targeting positions. This method has been proven to increase the likelihood of individual engagement, and has not appeared to singularly increase the effects of combat stress.
Demonization of enemy forces has proven ineffective by itself during past conflicts, and when applied can cause an increase combat stress (and extremely traumatic incidents) in close combat situations. Realization that the enemy is no different, biologically, from ourselves is a difficult concept to deal with.
As with all training for violent situations, the exercise should mirror in as many ways as possible the actual experience of combat. From the hellish noise, to the fog-of-war inducing screaming of orders and, potentially, intense pain and terror. This may be a difficult approach for any pilot who continues to subscribe to the idea of chivalry on the aerial front. Enlistment of an experienced, even hardened trainer for each position could be a good investment.
Each position must have a minimum of training in the application of self aid, and buddy aid. Most ships do not bring along anyone with thorough experience in the field of medicine, but in future engagements, this will be a necessity (due to the present aversion most pilots and crews seem to have to boarding operations, it's only logical to assume that this is the future evolution of aerial combat within the next 20 years or so). Self application of cravat bandages (and the wearing of a cravat at all times) can save the lives of your crew members before anyone else has to.
Physiological Responses to Combat
The human body has a built in survival mechanism for the possibility of combat. This has been referred to in several ways, but here I will liken it to the easily observable behavior of domesticated animals. In particular, dogs.
When a dog is confronted by another dog, it generally responds in one of three ways.
Fight: The dog may choose to fight the other dog. If this does occur, it's likely that the initial hostile action will not be an attack, but a posture. If the animal intimidates the other through posturing, there may not need to be a fight in the first place.
Flight: The animal may choose to flee the scene, and preclude itself from the possibility of interpersonal violence.
Submission: The animal may choose to submit to the other animal, again through the use of posturing. This does not usually result in a conflict.
If two animals of the same species face the possibility of hostility toward one another, the three responses listed above are entirely possible. If the two animals are NOT of the same species, submission rarely occurs.
Be cognizant that your crew will be experiencing these reactions when you move them to the sound of the guns, and only their discipline and comraderie will hold them together when the flak starts to explode. If you're lacking in either, you're already in trouble. Only the most experienced pilots are able to pull together a brand new crew, and even the most experienced pilots have trouble with a self-assured, loose knit crew.
In addition to the reactions listed above, there are several other effects that combat may have on your crew, to include:
Tunnel vision: Engaging the enemy, or having focus drawn to a particular point can result in what is known as tunnel vision. An individual experiencing tunnel vision will focus intently on one thing (or, sometimes, nothing in particular) and find him/herself unable to notice anything outside of the scope of their focus. Techniques to break tunnel vision, such as calling targets, establishing a verbal connection with the individual in question, or training your crew to search for additional targets/problems following an engagement can reduce instances of tunnel vision.
Tachypsychia: The percieved slowing of time during high stress situations. The brain is assumed to slow the processing of information to such a level that incredible detail can be observed on small, fast moving objects. It is unknown whether this state can be induced, or controlled.
Auditory exclusion: "Selective hearing", as it's called, can set in during combat situations. During these situations, the discharge of one's own weapon may sound extremely light, or even distant, and commands may go entirely unheard.
Lost time: On occasion, individuals who have experienced combat first hand have described "losing time" during the fight. This is in reference to sections of time that they cannot remember, and will have to be told about sometime later. Bizarre behavior has been noted during these "Blackouts", to include preparation of meals during firefights, and misplaced affections.
Precognition: Some survivors of force situations describe precognition, or the feeling of "knowing" what is about to happen. It is assumed that the subconscious mind is processing information that the conscious mind is unaware of, which produces this feeling.
In addition to the aforementioned, it should be noted that the body releases a high level of adrenaline during high stress situations, which may affect the manual dexterity of any indiviudal, regardless of skill or prior combat experience. It should also be noted that the only way to ensure your crew will act the way you need them to under stress is to ensure that proper stress is applied during training operations. If you fail to reproduce this stress for your crew, you cannot be certain of their performance once the adrenaline hits.
These are only a few of the more well-known effects of combat on the human body.
The Aftermath
The smoke has cleared, the enemy was defeated. You've taken some damage, and perhaps a member of your crew is injured, or even dead. You're still alive, and most of your crew is with you. It's a good day.
Maybe you did everything right. Maybe that flamer pass was perfect, the suppression was absolute, the main-gun volleys on point. Maybe you'll be surprised, then, that when you release the weapon and turn to your comrades, the lump jumps through your throat and you're left wailing like a newborn baby. You might feel embarrassed, or even stupid for feeling the way you do, and it's possible that you didn't even know the member of your crew that lays nearly in two before you. None of it matters. What you're feeling is absolutely normal.
Directly following any force situation, especially any situation that produced friendly casualties, it's incredibly important to conduct an after-action debriefing with all personnel involved in combat actions. Get them to talk it through, as soon as it's safe to do so. Give them a moment to get some water, drop any cumbersome protective gear, and gather them at the same point every time if at all possible. Guide the discussion, and try to allow everyone to issue their version of what happened. This is instrumental in ensuring that some level of closure is available to each member of your crew. Don't allow it to degrade into a gripe session, nor a storm of blame. Instead, steer it toward constructively identifying learning points from the past engagement, so that the next engagement might be a bit less costly. Remember: Your team is literally all that's stopping you from becoming the poor bastard you just shot down. Maintain them with the same care that you devote to your ship.
