The plan  seems to be this: bomb the snot out of the Libyan Army. The hard part done, rebels advance. Then we declare victory and go home.
Now, bombing the snot out of an entire country didn't work from 1943 - 1945: German industrial output increased right up until the Allies captured the actual buildings and put them out of business. Didn't work in 1950 when the mighty Air Force flew over millions of Chinese and flat out failed to see them. And so on. But it will be different this time. Wishing will make it so.
So - predictably - some stuff was blown up at great expense and a lot of soldiers were fried up like a a pig at roast. But we don't care about them because they're in the service of evil. Or maybe they just wanted to get out of Flyspeck, Libya, get a steady paycheck, wear a nice uniform and get laid. Whatever.
And so - because soldiers are tricky bastards - they adapted and improvised. They got their shit together. And because they're an army and the rebels are just some guys with high motivation but not much organization or discipline or logistics they're beating the rebels (aka Our Guys) like kettle drums.
So now what? The King done bought us a war. We're losing .
We got to either go big, send arms, send the cavalry, something. And we better do it in a pretty big hurry before Our Guys are flattened like bugs on a windshield.
Or we need to declare ourselves the winner and get out.
Neither choice is palatable.
 As much as there could be said to be a plan worthy of the name, which there isn't.
 This is not a current-events blog so this might be overtaken by events not long after being published.