The Army have a story to tell

Inter-war thinking costs lives in the early stages of war, the (then) Chief of Army (the CA) reminds us at an Army Headquarters induction in February 2026. We’re listening in a large lecture-style theatre at Duntroon. The room is full. At the back entry to the theatre is a wall of slouch hats hung on hooks; it’s somehow quite moving. Perhaps knowing the hats belong to Australians who’ve entered into contracts of unlimited liability and all the violence, bravery, and loss that war brings with it, makes it so. The army slouch hat became standard issue headdress in 1903, and those worn by members of the Armoured Corps are dressed with emu plumes (a tradition born of the Queensland Mounted Infantry during the great shearers’ strike in 1891).

I’m on secondment to the Future Land Warfare Division at Australian Army Headquarters (AHQ). In being co-located with officers, I soon learn (in addition to seeming to favour early starts!), that the idea of a “scholar-soldier” is more of a reality than I had assumed.

Whatever image is conjured in our minds when we think about our Army, ultimately our defence forces are a product of our society and not separate from it. My colleagues play piano and guitar, teach scuba-diving, read philosophy, and the relationship of Army with the Australian people seems to be front of mind. They have multiple masters degrees and every time I think I have read a clever thought, they’ve already read it, questioned it, and read the counter-narrative. Many are viscerally alert to the consequences of the Inspector‐General of the Australian Defence Force Afghanistan Inquiry, and are thinking carefully about issues of accountability in command.

‘The siren’s song of ‘inter-war thinking’

In other speeches, the former CA spoke of “The siren’s song of inter-war thinking” and the risks of assuming “the next war will be quick, decisive, fought at increasing distance, and everywhere but on the land and among people.” The Australian people have mostly only known our army to fight so-called “wars of choice” in faraway places. In recent times, we have also seen our Army deployed to assist in floods, pandemic management, even in aged care. It’s easy to forget that the role of Army in protecting our country is actually one of state-sanctioned violence and that means loss of life. Inter-war thinking also risks assuming that technological advances will keep geopolitical tensions in some sort of “grey zone” and minimise loss of life. But as one officer muses to me, “It’s naive to think technology will replace human involvement. Warfighting is still warfighting; its character changes, but its nature doesn’t. It is still humans fighting. And it is humans who will die”.

The threat of war drawing closer to home may be a reality in the future. “And why do we think about the future? It’s because we want to shape it, not merely respond to it”, an officer muses to me in a hallway conversation.

The mandate of those who work in and adjacent to future land warfare is to think about the future of war operations and prepare our army to fight in the region. They develop and test scenarios to prepare for the demands of warfare – everything from technology, energy, enemies, the weather. The scenarios tend to focus on how to leverage advanced technology (such as robotics and autonomous systems, air defence, and strike-related capabilities) to gain a decisive battlefield advantage. The scenarios are “wargamed” both within Australian Army, but also in cooperation with allies such as ABCANZ, or as was the case in September last year, with Japan. “The value of connecting between national forces is not always appreciated, but it is fundamental”, a US marine observes. Put crudely, future war games with allies are the premiums we pay on a joint health insurance policy.

In particular, there is an imperative to better align strategic thinking with operational realities. After all, given the budgetary environment, the Army we will go to war with is the Army we have. In that context, the four “strategic priorities” of Army have been articulated as trust, readiness, thrift, and the telling of its story. This conscious focus on narrative, may explain – at least in part – 2026 survey results showing Australians still see the Army as the service most important to Australia’s defence. Many Australians have also seen the Army respond to disaster response and recovery, a visual imprint of sorts.

The Army we have

The Australian Army turns 125 this year. As at October 2025, the Australian Army is made up more than 43,000 soldiers present in 157 bases across the nation. There are over 50 PhDs. Given what we ask of our Army (and how climate change will continue to impact that), it’s worth bearing in mind that is less than half the capacity of the MCG. As at 2021, one in twenty (5.3 per cent) Australian households had at least one person who had served in the ADF. Army makes up 50 per cent of the Australian Defence Force (ADF) workforce. More than 7,000 personnel joined the permanent and reserve force in the 2024-25 financial year, the highest number in 15 years. As at 2026, 19.5 per cent of the ADF as a whole is female. In the Army, this translates to around 15%. While one commentator describes women as an “untapped strategic asset” for the ADF and this statistic has been described as a “self-imposed limitation”, there has also been broader acknowledgment that gender parity is unlikely in the near future. There may be genuine reasons women don’t want a miliary career, but there may also be “fixable” obstacles to their doing so: both can be true. Nonetheless, the ADF reportedly has more participation of women than United Kingdom, Canada, New Zealand, and the US. My own sense is that training up more women to assist in wargaming and red-teaming is achievable, though, and would be useful in leveraging diversity of thought.

Land power matters

At its simplest, the Army is central to land power. In Australia, “tyranny of distance” is no mere metaphor. The most isolated Australian offshore territory that the ADF might need to defend lies 4,000 kilometres southwest of our coast. As the CA has noted:

“The scale of these distances and the challenges of re-equipping, resupplying, and regenerating forces demands military versatility … and land forces are amongst the most versatile of forces available.”

Land forces “are survivable … able to disperse … hard to find and identify, and even harder to dislodge”. In short, land power will help the Australian Defence Force (ADF) persist on the sea, below the sea, and in the air.

Additionally, Army has a key and growing role in what is known as ‘littoral manoeuvre’. Littoral zones are, put simply, coastal zones – the parts of rivers, lakes and seas close to the land. As an island continent, Australia has a considerable interest in coastal zones. As at 2021, 87% of the Australian population lives within 50km of the coast. Littoral manoeuvre is about the Army’s role in influencing the maritime domain from land and sustaining force ashore. Defending against an attack in our coastal zone, or in neighbouring archipelagic zones, means planning and investing in technology, systems, and people.

As quoted in an Australian Army Research Centre publication, one of the older sayings on the creation of peace is Vegetius, Epitome of Military Science, from 1460:

(S)He who desires peace, let him prepare for war. He who wants victory, let him train soldiers diligently. He who wishes a successful outcome, let him fight with strategy, not at random.

The Future of Land Warfare division has an important role to play in ensuring Australia can both minimise the likelihood of future war in our region, but also be prepared to secure and defend the region if not. However, the Australian people need to be taken on that journey, and this means it’s time for a serious national conversation on preparedness and mobilisation. It’s time for Army to tell its broader story: for now and for the future.

It’s also time for the Australian government to have a clear, calm conversation with the public about preparedness.

I finish up my secondment with a day observing wargaming. As I go to leave, the team I’ve been working with gather to say kind words of farewell. In the manner of all Australians, affection arrives at the crossroads of earnest and jest. We meet there. They are the bodies on the line for us. I never did become a morning person, but I hope I’ve listened. The Army have a story to tell.