That Buzzing Sound is the Coming Swarm
“Hey Sir, you hear that?”
“Yeah, can you tell where it’s coming from?”
It’s a sound you've heard reports about in other areas of operation, but not in yours. Your rifle platoon is eight hours into a patrol, inching up the road on a steamy August afternoon. Everyone’s head is on a swivel. The buzzing sound has caught their attention, so now they are looking to you; for answers.
Maybe it’s nothing, but it doesn’t sound good. After a couple decades of development, you can barely hear US drones anymore, however that buzzing sound you hear in the sky is like a thousand miniature engines. You are executing an age-old mission, but this is a new danger.
The scene you’re walking into has been evolving slowly for centuries. There is much about how infantry platoons operate on this future afternoon that would be recognizable to a WWII Platoon Leader maneuvering block-by-block in the Battle for Brest, or even the 1842 Battle of Monterrey. Danger still lurks in every window, rooftop, and around every corner. In fact, even the methods have changed relatively little over time. Direct fire from snipers, hidden explosive devices, a tossed grenade or even a suicide vest are the hallmarks of the urban fight.
The danger you hear approaching is the next evolution in a long line of deadly devices designed to kill foot soldiers. “Improvised explosive devices” is a term developed in the 1970's to describe homemade bombs made by the Irish Republican Army, though explosive anti-personnel mines have been used in battle dating back at least to the 3rd century in the Kingdom of Shu. Placed along expected avenues of approach, these IEDs have taken countless lives, and limbs, over centuries of warfare. However, on this late August afternoon, there is a new threat approaching that sounds like a low-budget science-fiction movie.
Before deployment, your Battalion Commander talked in one of his leader professional developments about how his company in Afghanistan walked in a single file to sweep a clear path for IEDs with a mine detector. Thankfully, after over two decades of war against buried IEDs, you are now equipped with devices that can detect hidden IEDs about 25 meters out. This capability is not far enough out to avoid the blast of remote controlled devices, but the threat of victim-operated IEDs has been reduced.
When the Battalion Intelligence Officer told you about the reports of “aerial swarm IEDs” everybody in the room looked puzzled, just like your platoon is today; looking for answers. The swarm was not emplaced along (or buried under) an expected avenue of approach. This was different than anything you’d trained or read about. The enemy had adapted and the coming swarm was searching for you.
Game-changing technology in war had traditionally been the domain of states, but by 2015 a private citizen had purchased a remote-controlled drone and flew it onto the White House lawn, undetected by radar. Snowboarding teenagers regularly purchase autonomous drones that follow them and film every epic move.
Your Platoon has one of these autonomous drones following you about 100 meters above. The video feed goes directly to your battalion command post. In Vietnam there was the “command post in the sky” with higher echelon commanders circling above in their helicopters, and by Afghanistan those “eyes in the sky” were suspended above on blimps that could see for miles. You know they’re monitoring too, because on your last patrol you got a radio call from the Command Sergeant Major to “watch your spacing” and “tell your machine gunner to put his eye pro back on”. It’s an annoyance, but you’re still the ones on the ground and it hasn’t really changed your tactics.
“Swarm!! Two o’clock!”
It looks like a flock of birds flying over a rooftop to your front-right, but the buzzing gives it away. These aren’t birds. The swarm is approaching your platoon in the middle of a city with over a hundred thousand inhabitants. Women and children are in sight down the street, and anything you shoot into the air or above street level is likely to tear into homes with families.
“What are you thinking?” It doesn’t even matter; there are far too many drones to even attempt shooting them out of the sky. You read the after action reports last week: each one is packed with enough explosives and shrapnel to potentially kill anything within 10 feet of impact. That’s actually small, compared to most explosives, you thought. However, enemy mortars don’t land in packs of a thousand.
Killing any one drone has no effect on the others. Some of the more advanced swarms used by insurgents are designed to seek out radio frequencies. Your radio operator knows this and already hit the new “kill switch” on his radio, cutting off all radio signals in the platoon, but the coming swarm isn’t stopping.
Maybe the approaching swarm is controlled by a forward observer. But who? This is a city full of people, windows, rooftops, and phones. The controller would have been using an app on their phone, indistinguishable from every other person checking up on their favorite social media.
Some of the swarms are controlled from miles away, with a camera attached to a “Queen Bee” drone, somewhere in the swarm. Each drone was small enough to fit in the palm of your hand. Identifying which one had the camera was almost as impossible as shooting it out of the sky.
“Take Cover!”
Your First Squad Leader already announced that order seconds before you got the words out of your mouth. As you look around, you’re the last one diving for cover, paralyzed by your own thought process. The buzzing is louder now, 200 meters away and approaching fast. You notice that the swarm is starting to split into groups, like a flock of birds splitting in the sky, moving in multiple directions. It’s almost beautiful, if it weren’t so terrifyingly violent.
You realize they are spreading out toward each of your Soldiers’ positions, targeting each of you with more targets than you have ammunition.
The swarm is approaching fast: “Whatcha gonna do PL?”
