For more information about how Halldale can add value to your marketing and promotional campaigns or to discuss event exhibitor and sponsorship opportunities, contact our team to find out more
The Americas -
holly.foster@halldale.com
Rest of World -
jeremy@halldale.com

In part one of a two-part series, Special Correspondent Andy Fawkes speaks to Australian Army and defence industry veteran Pete Morrison to discover how titles like Doom and Operation Flashpoint evolved from a teenage pastime into the foundation of modern military simulation.
In 2001, a 22-year-old Australian Army lieutenant demonstrated a modified Czech computer game to the Chief of Army. That presentation marked the beginning of a revolution in how militaries train their soldiers. The lieutenant was Pete Morrison, and the game was Operation Flashpoint, the foundation of what would become Virtual Battlespace (VBS), now the most widely used military simulation across the world.
Morrison's path started in his childhood bedroom playing games such as Doom. Growing up in the 1990s, he was captivated by computers, from the Commodore 64 to early IBM PCs.
"My mother would urge me to get off the computer before my dad got home from work," he recalls. "My dad was a plumber. I don't think my parents understood the potential of these magic boxes."
At the Australian Defence Force Academy, Morrison studied computer science whilst also spending a lot of time playing computer games. "I was criticised for how many computer games I was playing," he admits, "but my grades were good enough, so they let it slide."
The breakthrough came in 2001 when Morrison discovered Operation Flashpoint, created by Czech brothers Marek and Ondřej Španěl. Unlike typical shooters, it was an open-world game with a mission editor. Having just completed infantry training, Morrison recognised the parallel immediately. "I had all the tools I needed in this computer game to create quite a realistic military scenario," he explains.
Morrison's insight was profound: while the Air Force and Navy had expensive simulators, infantry soldiers had nothing. They had to "run around in the mud" to train and computer games could fill that gap.
The proof came in 2005 when soldiers tested VBS during a mission rehearsal exercise for Iraq. "It was incredible," Morrison recalls. "All of a sudden we could put them in scenarios where they had to make critical decisions and then talk about the consequences of those decisions." The Australian Army immediately purchased an enterprise license.
In 2006, Morrison pitched VBS2 to the U.S. Marine Corps with a bold promise: "You don't need contractors to build training content. Your Marines can do this. You don't need anyone in the battle except Marines."
This was revolutionary as traditional military simulation required expensive contractors for every scenario. Morrison democratised the process, putting power directly in users' hands. The Marines believed him, bought enterprise licensing, and established battle simulation centres across their installations. Marines themselves built the training scenarios, most commonly convoy training, where drivers, gunners, and dismounts could practice tactics before executing them live.
Not all defence industry welcomed this disruption. "I remember being accosted on a trade show floor and told that what we're doing wasn't serious, 'you play games,'" Morrison recalls. "I found it hilarious because the potential was totally obvious."
Within militaries, the cultural barrier was simple: "Computer games are what my kids play." But pragmatic organisations, the Australian Army, Marine Corps, and Special Forces, saw the value and moved quickly. The U.S. Army followed in 2008-2009, and by 2012-2013, VBS was the Army's most widely used simulation.
Despite 20 years of success, Morrison believes militaries still undervalue simulation. "I'm blown away that simulation still seems secondary to live training," he says.
His vision involves embedding simulation directly into military equipment. "I would love to take my soldiers outdoors, and with my platoon there's a virtual adversary hiding behind the tree, so we can start practicing our tactics right there. Moving simulation into the physical world."
He sees artificial intelligence as transformative, creating scenarios on demand, monitoring performance in real-time, and adapting to ensure optimal learning. But he's deeply concerned about one specific threat: drones.
"Until we have answers about how to counter drones in doctrine and technology in soldiers' hands, I will continue to be worried," Morrison says. "I've watched too many videos out of Ukraine that leave me concerned about our soldiers' wellbeing. We need to be pursuing hunter-killer drones that are fully autonomous. Ten years from now, it won't be humans flying these drones."
Morrison's advice for defence innovators is clear: work from the bottom up. "Unless you can build demand for a product that solves a problem, you're not going to succeed," he says. "If you're struggling to articulate the problem you're solving, it's just not going to work."
After leaving OneArc (the rebranded Bohemia Interactive Simulations) in late 2024 following BAE Systems' acquisition, Morrison remains engaged with the industry. "Innovation comes through startups," he reflects. "We need more companies like Anduril who are well-funded and led by innovators. The military needs to not be afraid to take risks."
From a bedroom gamer criticised for playing too many video games, Morrison helped transform how the world's most powerful militaries train their forces. The journey from Doom to the battlefield proved that the best training tools might not look like traditional training tools at all. In an era where warfare is being redefined by AI and autonomous systems, that willingness to embrace disruption has never been more critical.