Day: November 15, 2025

• US Army soldiers are working with developers to refine the service’s new command and control system in real time.
• NGC2 is a software-driven command-and-control system now being tested through a series of Army exercises.
• Soldiers are getting fixes overnight rather than in six months, officials said.

The US Army is rushing to close the dangerous gap between how fast technology evolves and how slowly the military usually moves.

The service’s Next Generation Command and Control (NGC2) system is being developed with soldiers and developers fixing problems in real time instead of waiting months for upgrades, Army officials said.

It’s a different, faster approach to developing weapons than the service is used to; it’s a process officials said is essential for preparing the Army for a potential high-intensity future conflict.

NGC2, has been a leading new development in the Army’s broader transformation initiative that’s focused on new weapons and technologies like uncrewed capabilities and artificial intelligence, and the service is leaning hard on soldier feedback for faster development.

“What soldiers are really enjoying is having the ability to talk to the developers,” Maj. Gen. Patrick Ellis, commanding general of the Army’s 4th Infantry Division, told reporters at a recent media roundtable.

Ellis said that while industry likes this setup, the soldiers really like it because it’s not the usual “I’ve offered my opinion, and six months later another engineering release comes out.”

“It’s much more a case of, ‘I’ve offered my opinion, and tomorrow, what I asked you to fix has now been fixed,'” he said.

Ellis said soldiers and developers have been in constant conversation about how to use this new technology during the Army’s Ivy Sting exercises at Fort Carson, Colorado. The Army has completed two rounds of testing so far, with a third set for next month and a larger event next year that will pit NGC2 against simulated cyber and electronic warfare threats.

Each Ivy Sting has seen incremental upgrades to NGC2, including the number of Howitzers connected, the use of drones to provide intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance feeds, AI models for identifying targets, and more diversified systems for commanders to make decisions.

NGC2 marks a major shift from the command and control technologies the Army has long relied on. It’s a more centralized system relying on open architecture, data, and software. The development team behind it, including Anduril, Palantir, and other companies, has been working with the Army on its specific capabilities.

Ellis said that the Army is staying deeply involved in the project from start to finish, rather than serving as a temporary stop for contractors who build something and move on.

Army leadership has been emphasizing the need for a new approach to buying, developing, and fielding weapons, as well as more collaborative relationships with industry partners. They’re prioritizing agile and adaptive development of new systems, a more Silicon Valley approach.

Joe Welch, the Army executive overseeing the NGC2 program, said the system is one example of a “totally different relationship with industry than what we have previously been doing within our historic acquisitions,” noting the service’s goal to avoid past pitfalls and build technology that can be updated and improved quickly.

Getting input from soldiers into the development of new technologies isn’t new, but there’s an effort to move faster as warfare evolves. For instance, that feedback has been useful in the swift development of the Army’s Mid-Range Capability, or Typhon, missile system.

During an exercise in the Philippines earlier last year, soldiers tweaked Typhon in the field, reducing reload time and stress on its components. User input was collected during and after the deployment in the region.

In a report earlier this year, the Government Accountability Office, a congressional watchdog agency, said the Army’s MRC program reflected “an iterative product development approach” with flexible requirements and regular user feedback. The focus was getting a “minimum viable product” into the hands of soldiers and letting that drive iterative development.

The iterative design approach has been a growing interest for the Army and is present in work on NGC2 as well. What the Army’s doing with NGC2, Welch said, “is really changing how the institutional Army behaves.”

“It’s showing we can move not just in acquisition more quickly, but in all the aspects of what we do,” he said.

• My grieving aunt moved in with us after my uncle died, and we thought we were helping her heal.
• Instead, she became the loving, steady presence who held our young family together.
• Looking back, her influence didn’t just comfort us — it shaped who we are today.

When my uncle died suddenly after 35 years of marriage, the loss was earth-shattering. My aunt and uncle had one of those rare, lifelong love stories: they met, fell in love instantly, and were engaged within six weeks. They created a life together in the Seattle area and eventually built their dream home in the foothills of Mt. Rainer. And then, without warning, he was gone.

My aunt was devastated. The life she had built — her routines, her community, even the view from her kitchen window — became unbearable reminders of what she’d lost. At the time, I was in the thick of motherhood with a 4-month-old daughter and a 2-year-old son. My husband and I were doing our best, but we were exhausted and overwhelmed, trying to build our careers while keeping our heads above water.

So when my aunt told us she was selling the house and needed to leave Washington, we didn’t hesitate. “Come stay with us,” we said. “For as long as you need.”

Her arrival changed our home in ways we never expected

We thought we were helping her. We thought our home would be a loving place for her to begin healing. Instead, her arrival changed the entire fabric of our family.

She moved in with her suitcases, her broken heart, and her natural instinct to nurture. My aunt was always the “fun one” in our family — the loudest laugh, the best storyteller, the one who finds joy in everything she does. But she also had decades of experience running a daycare out of her home, a gift I hadn’t fully appreciated until she stepped into our daily life.

Very quickly, she became more than just a guest. We hired her as our live-in nanny, and it felt like the most natural decision in the world. Each morning, I went to work knowing my kids were in the care of someone who adored them — and whom they adored right back.

She cared for our kids and supported me in ways I didn’t expect

She didn’t just fill the hours. She filled their hearts.

She got down on the floor and played. She taught them silly songs, built elaborate blanket forts, and read their favorite books with the kind of dramatic flair that made every page come alive. She gave them her full attention — something that felt impossible for me when I was juggling work deadlines, sleepless nights, and mountains of dirty clothes. And she supported me in quieter ways too, the kinds of gestures I didn’t even realize I needed. I’d walk into the laundry room and find fresh, neatly folded stacks waiting for me.

She had a term for it from her childhood in Germany. “Einselmenchen,” she’d say with a smile, explaining that her grandmother used it to describe the little fairies who slipped in to do something kind when you weren’t looking. That was exactly what she became for our family: the gentle magic behind the scenes, making life a little easier without ever asking for credit.

She said my kids saved her — but looking back, she saved us too

She said my kids saved her. In many ways, that was true. They gave her purpose during the darkest chapter of her life. They gave her routine, connection, and moments of pure, uncomplicated love.

But the older I get, the more clearly I see the reverse: she saved us, too.

Her presence brought a calm we didn’t realize we were missing. Her wisdom helped me through the early years of parenting. Her laughter filled our house when we desperately needed lightness. And her relationship with my children — deep, tender, and rooted in unconditional love — helped shape who they are today.

Her time with us reshaped our family long after she moved out

She left our home after two years, once she felt strong enough to start her next chapter. But the imprint she left on us never faded.

We thought we were opening our door to help her heal. What we didn’t expect was that she’d be the one who made us stronger.