sent to do, and, should he fail, to limit the cost. Furthermore, he came to realize
that strategy and tactics have no value in themselves; they can only have a value
relative to the strategy and tactics of an opponent.
Ug and other successful clan leaders learnt that strategic thought and planning
were a necessity if they and their people were to progress. While tactical excellence
was also imperative, it was important only in the event of battle. The strategic
plan was in operation before, during, and after the battle; it provided the context
for the choice of objectives, the allocation of resources, the approach to battle,
and the winning or losing of subsequent actions. Above all, it reduced the
probability of a tactical defeat bringing disaster upon the clan.
Ug and his fellow leaders did not think in terms of strategy and tactics as being
separate. Their thoughts were largely their own, and they did not need to put
them into compartments so as to explain to others or to teach them. In particular,
they did not need to explain how they thought about the linkage of their strategy
to their tactics. Indeed, because strategic and tactical leadership lay with the one
man, the thought process was more or less of a piece; I doubt there was any
formal recognition of the linkage. Nevertheless, if we see now, as we do, that
strategy and tactics are separate but related aspects of an endeavour, then we must
suppose there is a linkage between the two. And if we can analyse, as I have above,
the thought process of early man into strategy and tactics, then there too must
have been a linkage. Nowadays, we call this linking activity the ‘operational level
of war’ and the practice of commanders at this level ‘operational art’.
Ug did not discuss this particular aspect for another reason: success at achiev-
ing this linkage was the practical expression of his ‘magic’, of what made him the
winner and secure as the clan leader. The linkage, the essence of his magic as the
leader, was expressed in terms of originality of interpretation, the creativity in the
application of resource, the unexpected choice of effects, the economy of effort,
the timing, the balance, and the coherence of the whole. His ability to do this on
each occasion and to do something that was appropriate to that occasion meant
that he could usually compensate for tactical and strategic shortcomings relative
to the particular opponent, and still achieve his aim. He quickly came to realize
that because he faced an opponent with a will of his own, the execution of his
‘magic’ was dynamic: he must be able to rearrange the pattern to his advantage as
events unfolded. The strategy and tactics were relatively stable and took time to
adjust; it was at the point of linkage between the two that there was freedom for
dynamic creativity. He was in his time a great leader because of this ability. If this
knowledge and understanding were shared at all, it was only with his heir, and
then only as Ug’s powers were waning. Just as he drew pictures on his cave wall for
purposes we can only imagine and did not think of it as art, so he practised
operational art.
As man progressed from the cave to the city, so armies grew in size. Societies
were able to support the soldier or at least a warrior cast and the profession of
arms began to take a recognizable form. The profession’s attributes were fourfold:
skill at arms, the disciplined application of force en masse, fortification, and the
supply, maintenance, and movement of a force. All of these were essentially
Epilogue 227