PARALYZED BY AN ALL-IRAQ, all-war, all-the-time fever (not to mention a desperate opposition to the possibility of said war), the media managed to miss one of the central stories of President Bush's Crawford vacation: the administration's emerging plan to remake the structure of U.S. military forces.

Yes, defense "transformation" is about to rise from the grave, revitalized by the sweeping changes in American and international politics caused by the events of last September 11. And what appears to be a normal turning of the bureaucratic wheel--the preparation of the 2004 defense budget request--stands every chance of heralding a profound reengineering of the Pentagon and the armed services. The meeting at the Crawford ranch was to rehearse the scope of defense program and budgetary changes, and the political storm that might result.

This is a complete reversal of the situation one year ago, before September 11. Back then, Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld's mission to transform the U.S. military to exploit the "revolution in military affairs"--particularly the effects of information technologies on the art and science of warfare--had ground to an inglorious halt. The military services had successfully dominated the 2001 Quadrennial Defense Review process. This had the effect of sharply limiting the prospects for reform; the service chiefs could rightly point out that preparing for the future was at odds with preserving the peace today. The defense budget could not support all the programs needed for a smooth transition. And Rumsfeld was widely expected to be the first cabinet casualty of the Bush administration.

But the wartime urgency generated in the wake of the September 11 attacks shattered the status quo. Rumsfeld emerged as a dynamic "secretary of war"--a charismatic figure in a time of crisis--and he now has an opportunity to be a great secretary of defense, to reshape the military establishment. And it appears he has learned the lessons of his initial failure.

First, Rumsfeld has seized the bureaucratic initiative, making subtle but key personnel changes. He hasn't fired any generals, but he has shifted some of those most opposed to change. For example, he has all but named Gen. John Keane as the next Army chief of staff. Keane is a paratrooper by trade (who at a transformation conference this past week declared that the Army had bought its last main battle tank), and Keane knows he will be judged by his ability to change his army. Similarly, retired Vice Admiral Arthur Cebrowski, whose idea of a smaller "streetfighter" warship has now been enshrined as the Navy's Littoral Combat Ship program, has returned to lead the Pentagon-wide "office of force transformation."

Perhaps even more important, Rumsfeld has made Dr. Steven Cambone the head of analysis and evaluation, bringing him directly into the budgeting and programming process. Fairly or not, Cambone has long been viewed as Rumsfeld's henchman, almost universally loathed--but more important, feared--by the services. The message is that, this time, Rumsfeld will get what he wants.

Rumsfeld has also learned from his success in terminating the Crusader howitzer program that the political price of change is far less than originally feared. The vaunted array of Crusader supporters in the Army and on Capitol Hill collapsed rapidly and completely once the decision was reached. In a time of war, congressional resistance to executive energy on national defense issues proved--surprise!--difficult to build or sustain.

The services are thus bracing themselves for big changes to come. Over the next few weeks, decisions on a wide variety of programs will be made as the process of budget preparation nears its conclusion. While the figures are still to be reckoned and rationalized, it's clear that lots of major weapons projects are in jeopardy, from the Army's Comanche helicopter to the Navy's F/A-18 Hornet, the Air Force's F-22, and the Marines' V-22 Osprey. Even if none is cancelled outright, the number of each to be bought would be severely limited. As one insider puts it, "Rumsfeld is determined to clear away some tall timber to allow for new growth."

Also on the plate are personnel cuts. Through the summer, the defense trade press has been filled with predictions of dramatic force cuts in the Army. While the actual numbers may be smaller, it does look as though there will be real reductions: In his cover letter transmitting the Navy's budget memo to Rumsfeld, Navy Secretary Gordon England proposes a cut of 8,500 active-duty sailors in 2004 and promises more to come in future budget years.