“VSTOL: New Force for the Amphibious Task Force”
(See H. C. Boschen, Jr., pp. 46-51, July 1970 PROCEEDINGS)
Captain A. J. Carneghi, U.S. Navy—Although the author initially attempts to limit the V/STOL discussion solely to the Harrier in a close air support role, this stated restriction is immediately abandoned. The terms “close air support” and “air superiority” are either used interchangeably or in such a vague sense, that it is difficult to establish a clearness of definition or a sharpness of distinction as to which air mission role Commander Boschen really intends to discuss. In respect to the latter usage, the article states that “The use of a V/STOL close air support aircraft cannot necessarily bestow total air superiority. But local air superiority can be achieved over a specific objective for a limited period.” The author's distinction between “total” and “local” air superiority has no basis in fact, and is akin to the old story concerning pregnancy—the point being, a woman either is or she is not. The lack of. air superiority, in all probability, would not only preclude the capability to effectively use any aircraft in a close air support (CAS) role, but, more importantly, would also make highly questionable the capability to successfully conduct the assault itself. For by definition, as stated in the Dictionary of United States Military Terms for Joint Usage, Joint Chiefs of Staff (JCS) Publication 1:
Air superiority is that degree of dominance in the air battle of one force over another which permits the conduct of operations by the former and its related land, sea, and air forces at a given time and place without prohibitive interference by the opposing force.
If the case for V/STOL is meant to relate primarily to small operational task forces such as an amphibious ready group or an amphibious task unit (four to six ships), the author’s advocacy is beclouded by the indiscriminate use of such terms as Amphibious Task Force, (ATF) Landing Task Force, Amphibious Force, and Amphibious Striking Force. As an example, the term Amphibious Task Force applies to a force organized to land the assault echelon of a Marine Expeditionary Force (division/wing team) against determined opposition. Among other elements, the ATF includes support carrier, screening, transport, and mine warfare groups. Whereas the term Amphibious Task Force connotes operational capability, Amphibious Force does not. This latter term, in naval usage, refers to “. . . the administrative title of the amphibious-type command of a fleet.” (JCS Pub. 1)
Moreover, the author’s assertions that the Harrier will not normally take off in the vertical take-off (VTO) mode is highly conjectural from the standpoint of the limitations associated with the conduct of air operations on board assault ships. Take for example, the largest “strip” in the current amphibious ship force level—the amphibious assault ship (LPH). With a flight deck cleared of all helicopters and using the entire deck length, the Harrier would have a maximum theoretical takeoff run of about 200 yards. In respect to the amphibious transport, dock (LPD), the situation is aggravated; for practically speaking, the LPD represents a zero-yard “strip,” with no capability for generating wind-over-the-deck.
In view of these limitations, it is patently clear why the emphasis must be placed on the “V” in V/STOL, if the Navy is to assess realistically the resultant capability-degradation of the Harrier when embarked on board current amphibious assault ships. Even to an old patrol craft (VP) aviator with no claim to attack aircraft expertise, an average payload reduction in the neighborhood of 50% does not appear to be overly pessimistic. Using the author’s own statistic of a 2,000-pound payload for VTO, an LPD-embarked Harrier would have a payload degradation of 60% (2,000 pounds versus 5,000 pounds), and approximately the same percent reduction in combat radius.
The inference is made that both the Soviet Union and United Kingdom are overtaking the United States in the vertical assault technique. The evidence set forth to support this assessment is sparse indeed. The author predicates the Soviet capability upon: (1) the possession of two cruiser helicopter ships (Moskva and Leningrad); and (2), the statement that “The Soviet Union has been working most diligently in the development of a V/STOL aircraft . . .” Without belaboring the methodology whence the “leapfrogging” deduction is derived, a realistic appraisal of the Soviet capability should be tempered by the following factors:
(1) The Moskva class, air operationally, has V/STOL limitations similar to the LPD; namely, about 100 yards of flight deck and no capability for making wind-over-the-deck;
(2) A cursory examination of Moskva class characteristics (Jane’s Fighting Ships, 1969-1970) suggests that troop accommodations would be considerably less than an LPD, because of the below deck space requirements associated with her extensive armament and ASW equipment; and
(3) Embarkation of V/STOL crews and equipment would, of necessity, make further inroads on the space available for troops and equipment, including the supporting helicopter squadron.
With no slight intended to our brother British officers, the author’s cost-effectiveness analysis of the British commando carriers (Albion and Bulwark) is misleading in many respects. Inasmuch as I am not privy to cost data information, my comments are primarily confined to the “effectiveness” half of the analysis. Fundamental to making such an analysis is the requirement that the weapons systems being compared are capable of executing the same primary mission more or less within a prescribed performance envelope. Inspection of Commander Boschen’s analysis leads this reader to the conclusion that it is devoid of mission commonality. He states:
They [the British] have found that it is uneconomical to carry only 22 fixed-wing aircraft and eight helicopters in a ship with a complement of 2,400, when at reasonable cost, the same carrier could be converted to a commando carrier and in this form could carry a 700-Marine commando unit with 12 helicopters and 12 V/STOL Harriers.
What the author fails to state is that prior to conversion the primary mission of the Albion and the Bulwark was antisubmarine warfare. Since conversion, the primary mission of these ships is amphibious warfare. This lack of mission commonality between the weapons systems compared vitiates any meaningful conclusion as to capability assessment. A more appropriate analysis would have been a comparison of the commando carrier and the LPH. Effectivenesswise, such an analysis would reveal that the LPH can carry about three times as many troops and twice the number of comparable helicopters as the commando carrier. In terms of the ratio of troops lifted to ship’s company, which is germane to both cost and effectiveness, according to Jane’s, the LPH is 2,090:528 as compared to 900:1,035 for the Bulwark and 733:1,035 for the Albion.
As to capability assessment, probably the most exaggerative postulation is the writer’s proposed Indian Ocean force, composed of one tank landing ship (LST), one LPD, and one LPH with six to eight V/STOL aircraft and a like number of helicopters embarked. Commander Boschen would have the reader believe that this force would act as a credible deterrent “. . . to would-be governmental manipulators.” Based upon the composition of the force and upon the author’s estimate of troop size (2,000 to 5,000 men) for “small landings,” it would appear that the writer envisions embarking about 3,000 Marines. Troop-wise, this size force approximates a Marine Battalion Landing Team Helicopter (BLTH). In general, the primary mission of a BLTH is to participate as part of a larger force in amphibious operations. When operating independently, the BLTH organization is capable of offensive missions of limited scope and duration against small, lightly armed, and unsupported opposition. A typical mission for such a BLTH would be an amphibious raid involving swift incursion into an objective area, followed by a planned withdrawal. Because of its relatively small size, and the fact that its task organization does not include a follow-on support echelon, the BLTH is not structured for sustained combat. Even against an unsophisticated enemy with limited air capability, a larger force such as a Marine Expeditionary Brigade would be required if significant combat operations were anticipated. To attribute to this force the capability of projecting and protecting itself up to 200 miles inland reflects scant appreciation for the operational limitations involved. Whereas a BLTH normally operates with a full squadron of helicopters, Commander Boschen’s force, at best, would be limited to one third of a squadron as a result of V/STOL space encroachment. By itself, such a drastic reduction in helicopter lift would make problematical the ability to project more than a token force a minimal distance beyond a beachhead. When such a lift reduction is coupled with the time and distance factors of a landing zone 200 miles inland, it renders suspect the feasibility of attaining an effective and rapid build-up of combat power in the objective area. This is particularly true when one takes into account that the maximum combat radius of the CH-46 Marine helicopter is about 115 miles.
In respect to the force’s self-protection capability, discounting any surface or sub-surface threat, and the effective of the embarked Harriers, it is difficult to accept the proposition that six or eight V/STOL aircraft could be productively employed. Aircraft attrition (maintenance and combat) in conjunction with VTO radius of action limitations would, perforce, seriously degrade the Harrier’s contribution to either the CAS or AAW role.
Part of the reason for the author overstatement of V/STOL capability stems from an apparent naiveté concerning air operations in general. As an example, he states:
The V/STOL is only concerned with local weather since it is not involved in transits. If the local weather is acceptable, the aircraft can be launched, conduct its mission, and be landed. In the past, missions have had to be aborted because of weather at the carrier or en route.
Taken in its proper perspective, the same limitations concerning weather and transits are equally applicable to a Harrier on board an LPH or LPD as an A4D on board an attack carrier (CVA). A landing zone 100 or 200 miles inland involves considerable transit and will not, per se, have weather conditions similar to the LPH area of operations.
I would emphasize that the purpose of my comments is not to discount the desirability of incorporating V/STOL organic to amphibious assault ship aviation. Rather, it is to bring into focus the myriad problems associated with such a concept as applied to the current ship characteristics of the LPH and the LPD. Qualitatively and quantitatively, space configurations of the LPH and of the LPD were designed to accommodate specific embarkation requirements that did not include fixed-wing aircraft. Inclusion of the Harrier and its ancillary equipment in embarkation requirements would necessitate major ship alterations. Provisions would have to be made for intermediate level maintenance, refueling, and rearming on all LPHs and, to varying degrees, on all other amphibious assault ships which have a helicopter platform capability.
Assuming practicability, to embark V/STOL now means a trade-off in Marine embarkation requirements. Since shipboard space availability is essentially a fixed constraint, V/STOL embarkation would necessitate a reduction in the size of the Marine task elements to be embarked. This reduction would apply not only to troops, but also to vehicles, cargo, and helicopters—the wherewithal of combat power. It is this consideration that is of paramount importance and in which the danger lies. For the Navy would be prudent not to over-extend the trade-off to accommodate a supporting arm, tactical air, at the expense of amphibious assault’s raison d’être—the effective employment of the Marine trooper and his rifle ashore.
The Military Image
(See R. J. Hanks, pp. 22-29, March; pp. 97-101, June; pp. 89-96, July; pp. 95-96, August; p. 85, October; pp. 81-82, November; and pp. 79-82, December 1970 PROCEEDINGS)
Second Lieutenant Michael W. Symanski, U. S. Army—Having read the prize essay and the subsequent commentary in the Comment and Discussion section, I felt that something must be said about the image of the military on today’s college campus, because the university is often pictured as the focus of the anti-military movement. Moreover, the leaders of our society come from the university, so their concept of the military—which is a very important segment of any society—is crucial to military men. My qualifications for offering an estimate of this situation are four years at the University of Illinois (Urbana), which culminated in a commission in the U. S. Army through the ROTC program last June.
A cadet or midshipman out of uniform is indistinguishable from his fellow students either in appearance or behavior. He is neither to the far right nor to the far left, but merely a citizen with his private convictions. When he dons the uniform, however, the cadet or midshipman becomes the pariah of the academic community. His civilian companions who drank with him the night before are suddenly convinced that he is “General Bullright”—a Commie-hating, flag waving, egotistical martinet, whose only ambition is to burn babies for the love of war. We once had to advise a visiting cadet from a military academy that it would be unwise for him to wear his uniform in the Illini Union. Why was this necessary?
The military projects its own worst possible image. Most professional military men appear to the student as inarticulate simpletons by today’s academic standards. The soldier rarely seems to have a logical explanation, by campus standards, for what he does or for what he is. The most common appeal for respect for the military is based on emotion and symbol identification—the soldier presents himself as the guardian of America, the protector of the flag, the shield of the Constitution, and the bulwark of the people. This is true, but it is not enough as a justification for his place in today’s United States (thinks the student), and it will certainly be almost meaningless as an explanation under the new set of broad social values now emerging from the campus. The military must be more than an instrument of community defense or foreign policy. The student regards any foreign policy that must be made by arms alone as insane, just as the existence of such a great reservoir of material and power as the peacetime military machine is considered useless and wasteful. The student expects every social institution to have an immediate and constructive value to the community, and the military does not seem to fulfill those requirements.
The university student wants his institutions to be flexible, and the “don’t make waves” philosophy connected with today’s military is antipodal to change and flexibility; hence, the “good German” image of Mr. Ponte’s observation. The military does not try very hard to publicize the realities of military life— the student has no conception of the true relationship of officer to enlisted man, or of the military to the society. The student concludes that the military is anachronistic.
The university student wants his institutions to be honest. The professional military man idealizes the life of honor, which is a traditional and correct martial trait. However, the military also believes in washing its dirty laundry in private. This is proper, but an exposure of certain types of quiet internal policing results in cries of “cover-up.” My Lai, the C-5A, and the F-111 are examples of incidents in which the military either did not correct its own mistakes, or foolishly did not admit them until someone could shout, “white-wash.” When an embarrassment is brought to light, the military is left red-faced, while its opposition leaps for joy and is able to say anything, no matter how false, about the Pentagon and be believed by the people. The student concludes that the military is dishonest.
The nature of war makes many of the practices of the military incompatible with civilian life by necessity. But instead of educating the public about the needs and conditions of the military, the soldier, as Commander Whitten pointed out, tends to withdraw within itself and grumble that it is misunderstood. In other words, the military man leaves the field of battle to his opponent. The student concludes that there is no justification for discipline.
So the best human material does not go into the military in any capacity where he can make himself truly useful. The top university graduate sees the military as an evil (not even a necessary evil, in most cases), and goes—if he goes at all—reluctantly and sullenly into it. The ROTC program does little to alleviate the situation, except where the local cadre takes the initiative to educate the students, as it did at the University of Illinois. The informal meeting between the ROTC people and the anti-militarists did—in my mind—make real progress toward a rapport between the two camps (both composed, ironically, of students who have the same basic beliefs). The formal program, however, does almost nothing to enhance the dignity or expectations of the future officer, especially during the all-important first two years which is the basic program. The cream of the ROTC basic crop often drop out of the program in disgust, and under pressure from their unenlightened non-ROTC colleagues.
Now is the time for the Mahans to come forward—men who would build the image of the cerebral soldier who is a part of a socially useful and efficient democratic institution. We have a most important job to do, but we are not doing it. We may soon find ourselves in a society which sees no need for military men.
“Naval Air Training: A Change Is Needed”
(See D. R. Wright, pp. 115-117, February; and p. 84, November 1970 PROCEEDINGS)
Lieutenant (j.g.) Thomas W. Perkins, U. S. Navy—I recently completed the “prop pipeline,” and am now in a patrol (VP) squadron. I should like to extend Lieutenant Wright’s line of thinking to the VP “pipeline.”
After pinning on his wings, the VP replacement pilot is sent to two months of navigation training, followed by a month-and-a-half of tactics and survival training, and then to the replacement squadron (RAG) where, after a layoff of four to six months, he is retaught how to fly. His last month in the RAG is spent learning to navigate in the P-3, where again there has been a layoff of up to four months between his school and its application to the P-3. He is then sent to his squadron as a pilot-navigator. Of course, the pilot would rather fly than navigate, but must wait his turn for a “right seat.” Even then, he still requires more flight training, because after eight to 12 months navigating, his proficiency is usually low.
I would like to see the navigation training at Patrol Squadron (VT)-29 eliminated and the new pilots sent directly to the RAG for flight training in the P-3. They would receive all the navigation training at the RAG. While at first it seems as though it would again involve a layoff from flying, consider that some of the navigation training taught at VT-29 does not apply to the P-3 and could be eliminated. The new navigator would also learn in the P-3 (an aircraft with which they would already be familiar) vice the T-39. The time between schools would be eliminated by reducing the number of school changes. The tactics now taught at separate schools could be integrated into the navigation syllabus, making them more meaningful by actually flying them instead of just reading about buoy patterns and magnetic anomaly detection (MAD) circles. The survival training could be handled on the squadron level, by sending the man on temporary additional duty for a few weeks at a time, thus not seriously hurting his proficiency or slowing down his arrival at the squadron where he is more of an asset.
While this program does not eliminate the time spent navigating in the squadron by the new pilot, it does get him to the squadron faster. The slack time after receiving his wings to when he first starts to fly the P-3 is eliminated. It would help the morale of these new aviators by keeping them in the air and not at some ground school, where there is little relevance to his ultimate goal of patrol plane commander.
“Combat Readiness Training”
(See J. B. Kusewitt and W. A. Speer, pp. 45-49, March; pp. 96-97, July; and pp. 83-84, November 1970 PROCEEDINGS)
Lieutenant (j.g.) W. E. Stevens, U. S. Navy—I graduated from the U. S. Naval Academy with the Class of 1968, and received my wings in December 1969 at the Naval Air Station, Kingsville, Texas. After 18 months of flight training, I was assigned to a desk job at the Fleet Computer Programming Center, Atlantic, at Dam Neck, Virginia Beach, Virginia.
This is a two-year assignment in a non-aviation billet. Therefore, it was with great interest that I read Commander White’s comments dealing with the Navy’s current combat readiness training (CRT) program. I respectfully submit, assuming Commander White is a naval aviator (he fails to say in his comment), that his verbal survey of 30 officers from lieutenant to captain omits from consideration and the new breed of CRT pilot, the newly-designated aviator, usually a lieutenant (j.g.).
A growing number of pilots fresh from the Naval Air Advanced Training Command are receiving orders to various CRT billets. There exists within this group, of which I am a member, a high motivation and desire to fly. The disappointment and disillusionment which an initial two-year tour at a desk provides for a newly-designated aviator are at least somewhat alleviated by the current CRT program.
The new aviator reporting to a desk for his first tour of duty has, on the average, less than 300 hours of total pilot time; a goodly portion of which was acquired in the company of an instructor. This is probably a factor contributing to the Chief of Naval Operations lifting the maximum time limitations for all newly-designated CRT aviators. Aviators, reporting to CRT billets after a first tour with an operational squadron, should have acquired in the vicinity of 1,000+ hours of flight time. These aviators are better experienced and can more safely adapt to CRT aviation. Perhaps these experienced veterans have no motivation or desire to fly and would passively accept classification as Category III aviators; for them perhaps Commander White’s suggestions are valid, but not for the “nugget” CRT pilot.
The current CRT program should be revamped and modernized. True, the newly-designated jet aviator is often lost and bewildered in the front seat of a T-28 or the left seat of an S-2. These aircraft are inadequate for maintaining the level of training achieved in the training command. The fact that most jet students never see a low altitude chart, or never use some of the navigation equipment in propeller aircraft, coupled with the totally inadequate preparation provided for CRT propeller transition, only add to the problem. However, to place newly-designated jet pilots in a Category III classification is not the answer. Propeller aircraft, although not providing optimum benefits, do, at least, allow new aviators to gain experience other than that acquired in the training command. Additionally, instrument qualifications can be maintained at an acceptable level in propeller aircraft.
The CRT jet inventory of T-1A and/or T-33B aircraft is retained at only a few locations and is in the process of being cut further. There are no CRT T-2, TF-9, or T-A4 aircraft, planes which are flown in the jet training pipeline. The CRT inventory of S-2 and T-28 aircraft, which are flown in the prop training pipeline, must suffice for both the propeller and jet pilots alike.
Although the active duty CRT aviator would be the first to be assigned to operational aviation units in time of a crisis (e.g., Berlin, Cuba, Vietnam), his now-active duty, Naval Air Reserve counterpart is often better trained, acquiring more flight hours and maintaining a higher proficiency level. The Reserve pilot is definitely flying a more modern plane. Jet Reserve squadrons are currently flying A-4, F-8, and F-4 high performance aircraft. Propeller squadrons are flying P-2 and S-2 aircraft. The need for these “weekend warriors” is, in my opinion, unquestionable. However, should not a first tour aviator be allowed the opportunity to be as well-trained and fly aircraft as modern as those flown by the Naval Air Reserve?
The establishment of programs providing for weekday use of Naval Air Reserve facilities and aircraft, with suitable training, could provide a degree of proficiency training desirable for a first-tour designated.
I ask Commander White how a newly-designated aviator with 300 total flight hours would fare in an F-4 or -14 replacement air group (RAG) after two years as a Category III aviator?
“Effective Writing, Navy or Civilian”
(See C. Blair, pp. 131-134, July; and p. 110, December 1968; pp. 116-117, February; pp. 113-114, April; and pp. 105-106, July 1969; and p. 89, February 1970 PROCEEDINGS)
Captain Carvel Blair, U. S. Navy—With hope renewed by Commander Taylor’s rally to the cause of effective writing, this crusader is picking up his lance to answer, belatedly, Lieutenant Commander Corey’s challenge.
I disagree with the charge that Ensign McNulty’s, Fowler’s, or Strunk and White’s “few rules” eliminate warmth and conviction. Prose written within the rules of good style ranges from the Gettysburg Address to the Twenty-third Psalm to Macbeth. Few critics would recognize Lincoln, David, or Shakespeare as “. . . victims of the word or phrase syndrome” (whatever that means). Even fewer would consider that those writers had sacrified [sic] “individual expression” at the “altar of conformity.” Good style is like a good set of carpenter’s tools. Both allow their user to build what he wants, and to build it with warmth, conviction, and expression, be it an order or an ode, a whatnot or a whaleboat. The better the style, the smoother the channel between the author’s feelings and the reader’s comprehension.
My second complaint is more parochial. Lieutenant Commander Corey prefers to write “This command notes” or “It has come to the attention of this command. . . .’’He objects that the more direct “I see” implies the commander’s personal awareness. It is a weak commander indeed who abjures the first person singular in an effort to avoid personal knowledge and hence, responsibility. The principle L’état, c’est moi applies to commanders as well as kings. No semantical dodge will allow him to escape accountability for his actions—as another article in the July PROCEEDINGS points out.
“Exotic or vogue words often convey a much more precise meaning than a common word.” Not so; the common four-letter Anglo-Saxon words are among the strongest and most precise in our vocabulary.
With one statement I agree, that Lieutenant Commander Corey will “. . . be damned if . . .” he will . revere the simple English declarative sentence.” After reading his letter, one wonders if he would even recognize it.
“Professionalism and Writing”
(See D. W. Brezina, pp. 108-109, November 1969; pp. 95-97, April; p. 101, August; and p. 98, September 1970 PROCEEDINGS)
Commander Wayne P. Hughes, Jr., U. S. Navy—Lieutenant Brezina deplored the lack of writing on strategic issues by young naval officers. He attributes this intellectual vacuum in part to the counsel of veterans against writing until “. . . you get your scrambled eggs. . . .” Here is one veteran who says do not wait—write. Of my four essays in the PROCEEDINGS, one was devoted to naval strategy and two were involved with strategic or tactical questions.
Regarding the first, “Missiles and Missions,” I blush now at the flamboyant style, but the substance is, if anything, more true today. The other two I still read with satisfaction, and my two or three other pieces that have appeared in print do not seem less wise now. In fact, there are several others gathering dust that I rather wish I had, contrary to advice, submitted for publication. And, there was also one lemon which the Naval Institute perceptively rejected.
Of course you always risk painting yourself into the kind of corner that a Supreme Court candidate found himself in because of some ill-advised words of his “youth.” But if you write from the heart, without motives of expediency; and if you solicit the review of a few wise heads (admittedly not always easy to find); and, if you publish in the PROCEEDINGS rather than the nearest newspaper or magazine of modem yellow journalism, then your risks are small.
The good news is that if your idea has merit, and is expressed persuasively, it will almost surely be given an upcheck by the Naval Institute Board of Control. After publication, it may not get the attention it deserves, especially the attention you think it deserves. The Navy, ponderous as an elephant, has to be delivered a stunning blow to react quickly. But good ideas have a way of fermenting, and our 1970 naval leadership is, at least, more receptive than the barnacled sea dogs who ignored and all but buried Mahan before his writings got due recognition.
Carl H. Amme, Jr., Stanford Research Institute—Lieutenant Commander Loftus sets forth the basic reasons why young officers do not write. He cites the preoccupation of the young officer with learning his trade at sea and the time required in apprenticeship, before the budding author can acquire the background, knowledge, and experience to dash off a publishable essay. Occasionally, a few young officers do write articles, and they are to be encouraged. Of the other hand, if the reputation for professionalism of the PROCEEDINGS is to be maintained, it is important that these articles be subject to the same criticism as those of more experienced writers. Ensign Berkman’s article “The Road to Wisdom” is a case in point.
The underlying proposition of Ensign Berkman with which I take issue, is that “career historians” as individuals and as a group can give better advice than others. Moreover, they have a responsibility to do so.
Like all disciplines, history is bound by strictures and limitations. First, there is the limitation of material on the one hand and a surplus of material on the other. Sometimes the historians must proceed from mere shreds of information and data that only imagination and guesswork could reconstruct. At other times, the fund of knowledge is so massive that the historian must limit his energy and study to a particular area, country, or period. The historian is both researcher and artist. He must pass judgment on what is reliable and what is not. The collection and ordering of information and their interpretation and recording require imagination. The historian, by nature, views the present as a consequence of what has gone before.
What Ensign Berkman proposes is an activist historian. “As individuals and as a professional group, they (historians) are guilty of accepting and playing an irrelevant role. Historians should use their historical training and knowledge to analyze the relevant problems of today; they must leave their ivory towers and discard the habit of avoiding responsibility.”
Note what Samuel Eliot Morison had to say about the role of the historian:
So much has been written in recent years about these limitations on “scientific” objectivity as to obscure the plain, outstanding principle that the historian’s basic task is one of presenting a corpus of ascertained fact. This is the hardest thing to get across to students today, especially to those who have been to the so-called progressive schools. Somewhere along the assembly-line of their education, these students have had inserted in them a bolt called “points of view,” secured with a nut called “trends,” and they imagine that the historian’s problem is simply to compare points of view and describe trends. It is not. The fundamental question is, “What actually happened, and why?”
Certainly, no one disputes the importance of the knowledge of history in high level decision-making. No one would discount the contributions made to decision-making by such accomplished historians as Professors Henry Kissinger, George Kennan, Charles Burton Marshall, and the late Arnold Wolfers. But then, no one would discount the contributions made by Albert Wohlstetter (mathematician), Edward Teller (physicist), Arthur Burns (economist), or Robert S. McNamara (industrialist).
The truth of the matter is that historians have no more unique qualifications for giving advice to decision-makers than professionals in any other social science field. At an historical society convention some time ago, a proposition, similar to Ensign Berkman’s, was advanced that “. . . historians have a better insight into history-in-the-making.” Professor Charles Burton Marshall, himself an accomplished historian, broke up the conference by voicing the opinion that this proposition was equivalent to holding that gynecologists make the best lovers.
“The Naval Medical Officer; The Worst of Both Worlds”
(See F. E. Dully, Jr., pp. 60-66, January; pp. 101-104, June; pp. 97-99, July; pp. 100-101, August; and pp. 86-87, November 1970 PROCEEDINGS)
Lieutenant Commander Joseph W. Sokolowski, Jr., Medical Corps, U. S. Navy—With increasing concern relevant to the problems of retention expressed by our senior officers, the difficulties currently being experienced in providing medical care for dependents should receive major emphasis. Which is more comforting to an individual—a few extra dollars of “sea pay” or the assurance that his family has available, if the need arises, the best possible medical care?
How many resignations have been submitted by career medical officers who can no longer accept the position of providing medical care in an environment of outmoded facilities and equipment, limitations in numbers and experience of required paramedical personnel, and an attitude that the situation is justified by “the needs of the Service?”
Modernization of the Navy requires not only the introduction of new weapons systems, but also a revitalization of the medical department. Modern methods of personnel management, health delivery systems, and hospital administration must be introduced. With the impending demise of the physician draft and the Berry Plan, greater numbers of physicians must be trained by the Navy in the specialty areas of medicine. Once trained, they must be provided with the necessary equipment and technical assistance to practice their particular specialty. If not, they will use their training in more receptive areas of the civilian community.
These innovations will require additional expenditures in a period of increasing budgetary restrictions. Yet, will they not contribute to the goal of increased retention, not only in the line but also in the medical department?
“Retention: The High Cost of Leaving”
(See J. R. Fredland, pp. 44-47, January; pp. 106-109, June; p. 109, July; pp. 106-108, August; and pp. 93-94, September 1970 PROCEEDINGS)
Lieutenant Commander Douglas M. Johnston, Jr., U. S. Navy—I must take exception with Professor Fredland’s statement that a serious reassessment of leave policy could quite conceivably result in they not contribute to the goal of increased retention, not only in the line but also in the medical department?
Polaris submarine duty where the leave policy leaves little, if anything, to be desired, and where officer and enlisted retention rates are comparable to other branches of the Service, I can conclude that leave policy reassessment could yield little other than meager results insofar as retention is concerned. In countless discussions with contemporaries who have left or who are soon to leave the Service, not once has leave policy been mentioned as an issue for consideration.
Insofar as the sabbatical leave concept is concerned, it does not necessarily follow that an officer who is given the opportunity to really compare military and civilian pursuit, is going to elect the former over the latter.
The fundamental causes underlying retention problems in the Navy can be grouped into three basic categories: separation, status, and job satisfaction.
It might be said that the prolonged periods of separation from family and friends, attendant with a naval career, are a hazard of the occupation. As long as there is a Navy, there will be ships; ships go to sea and they have to be manned. If the Navy provides its officers and enlisted men with career patterns oriented toward achievement of an optimum rotation between shore and sea duty, little more can be asked. However manning levels should be maintained as necessary to ensure that a minimum acceptable standard is adhered to for all.
Insofar as status is concerned, recognition and reward have to be considered as fundamental to any solution. A liberal policy of recognition within the Navy such as that which prevails in the other Services would go far toward convincing the individual that his efforts are both recognized and appreciated. Reward in the form of increased pay and allowances would serve to elevate the social position of the military man. Some gains have recently been achieved in this area, but there is still much to be desired, especially in the lower pay grades where enlisted men still qualify as welfare recipients in some parts of the country, and in the higher pay grades where pay is not commensurate with responsibility. In the case of the latter, the military often loses some of its best men just at that point in their careers where they have become most valuable. After tasting the heady nectar of military command the senior officer, in many cases, receives orders to staff duty in Washington, where he finds himself concerned with Joint Chiefs of Staff word-definitions and the like, and facing an abnormally high cost of living on a relatively inadequate salary while trying to support a family with children in college. In the case of the submarine officer, the loss of submarine pay represents a substantial decrease in financial status. Small wonder that so many capable officers leave the military after 20 years of service.
Perhaps the single factor which exerts the greatest influence in any decision between a military and a nonmilitary career is that of job satisfaction. Assignment rotation in itself generally renders a career in the Service anything but boring. With the ever-increasing emphasis on specialization, however, a trend is developing toward external dictation of all facets of professional performance. Not only is equipment operation prescribed in stringent detail, but it is also getting to the point where personnel management is being similarly prescribed. The argument for uniformity has merit up to a point; but beyond that point, such an approach can become stifling as it increasingly deprives the individual of room to maneuver in expressing personal initiative and creativity. Indeed, it can be overdone to the point where the hard-charging individual feels a genuine sense of frustration and boredom as he experiences constraints in so many areas. The follow-on argument for tighter control from above on the basis that it is needed to compensate for decreasing experience level as more and more people leave the Service is self-defeating. It merely serves to aggravate the problem by driving even more well-qualified people out, thereby decreasing the experience level further.
Yet another aspect of the emphasis on specialization which bears on job satisfaction and ultimately upon personnel retention is that of the inspection procedures employed in determining the adequacy of an activity to perform its assigned function. Here again a trend has also developed, one oriented toward establishing a criterion of either satisfactory or unsatisfactory. One fallout of this method is an emphasis on the negative and a playing down of the positive as being irrelevant to the purpose of the inspection. This may prove useful to high level authority as a convenient tool for gauging the performance of subordinate activities; but could not the same end be served by appealing to the competitive spirit of these same activities, acknowledging the positive as well as the negative, using these same inspections not only as a gauge of performance on a go, no-go basis, but also as a means for competing for recognition? For instance, the established inspections given to Polaris submarines could very easily be used as yardsticks in competing for a squadron efficiency award. Given the exigencies of bias and other elements which enter into any inspection, it would still represent a step forward in emphasizing the positive. The aura associated with the present inspection process is anything but pleasant. And after all, what is more fundamental to job satisfaction than enjoyment of what one is doing to the maximum extent possible? One thing the Navy or the military in general, will never be lacking in, is an avid spirit of competition. Why not tap this veritably inexhaustible resource in addressing the problem of retention?
Although the recommendations cited in the areas of separation and reward would require action at Congressional levels, those associated with recognition and job satisfaction are readily achievable within the framework of the Service itself. Reassessment in these areas is, in my opinion, critical to the retention of high-caliber personnel. Addressing symptoms is not enough. If the exodus is to be arrested, it must be done through directly attacking the causes in the most candid manner possible.
“The Objective Was a Volunteer Army”
(See J. Alger, pp. 62-68, February; and p. 107, July 1970 PROCEEDINGS)
First Lieutenant D. M. Bishop, U. S. Air Force—Certain of Major Alger’s comments, about how times have changed since the good old days make all his arguments suspect.
His remark about the new supply school graduate, who edifies the company supply sergeant on “. . . the latest theories on supply procedure . . .” does not withstand even a cursory reflection. Logistics in modern war have become too important and sophisticated to be handled by personnel trained on the job. In general, I know of no Air Force noncommissioned officer who would prefer a direct duty assignee for on the job training over a technical school graduate.
It is my experience in handling Congressional correspondence, that no commander ever has to fear an inquiry as long as his policies and practices adhere to the standards and guidelines set by his Service. In this respect, Congressional correspondence, no matter how pesky it becomes at the operational level, is nothing more than a check on the military, as intended.
Finally, Major Alger’s criticism of the Uniform Code of Military Justice is unfounded. The code fulfills its disciplinary function in providing commanders with sufficient punitive strength to maintain discipline. It is just and efficient, and, at the same time adequately protects the rights of the Serviceman. I think, perhaps, that dissatisfaction with the Code comes from commanders who must deal through young non-career staff judge advocates, who are not personally dedicated to the maintenance of discipline. This, however, is a personnel problem within the legal career field, not the fault of the Code as enacted by Congress.
The big gripe I have about the article is that through it runs the tired old theme of how much better things were in the days when men were men, and the like. Well, the old days are gone. We have a Uniform Code, and the Articles of War cannot be wished back. The military Services must operate in an environment of greater sophistication and complexity, and must draw their support from a society which appears to be becoming less and less favorable to the Services. Constructive criticism within the Service should concentrate, therefore, on how to best operate within the political and social parameters that exist, and not constantly bemoan the way things are.
The Individual Approach in Career Counselling
Commander John T. Gelke, U. S. Navy—The old seafaring expression, “Different ships—different long splices,” is as true today as it has been through the ages. Just as different ships have different ways, so do the men who sail in them. The recognition of this statement is fundamental in the pursuit of an effective retention program.
The Navy has conducted many studies in the past in an attempt to identify variables which could be related to enlisted and officer retention. These studies have generally reinforced the importance of the present Navy policy of individual attention being directed at each man as he approaches his career decision-making point. We have found that first term enlisted men are a heterogeneous group by nature, and that general policy changes do not have dramatic effects on retention. Individual counselling and attention is the key. This may seem so basic that the reader may say, “Why is he telling me something I already know?” Unfortunately, I feel, we are not practicing what we preach. We build beautiful paper organizations on board ship, dedicated to the career counselling program, but do we actually carry them out? Individual counselling of officers and men is an important requisite to a successful career retention program. It is a time-consuming process, however, and generally gets the axe first when weekly schedules get tight.
I feel that we have the needed tools already laid out before us. Much time and effort has been expended, from the Secretary of the Navy down, in the preparation of sound career counselling guidance. What we have to do is execute the plans and carry out the programs that already are in existence. One initial step, at the command level, might be to take a hard honest look at the existing unit program. Questions should be asked, such as: Are we using as counsellors people who are interested and well-informed? Have we set the right climate? Can the men trust us to do all we can for them with regard to duty preference, and the like? Are we counselling our men as individuals? Are we sincerely interested in our program, or is it just another paper tiger?
We have the tools and the guidance, but it is up to us to make career counselling a viable program. Men, like ships, are individuals, each of distinct character and personality. The watch phrase of career guidance should be “Different ships—different long splices.”
“The Low Cost of Freedom”
(See V. H. Krulak, pp. 68-72, July; and p. 82, December 1970 PROCEEDINGS)
Neil L. Albert—The General and I agree that “What is wrong with the United States of America . . . is a passive unwillingness . . . of our people . . . to fight what is wrong.”
Racial injustice is wrong. Pollution is wrong. The death of the students at Kent State is wrong. Arbitrary police practices that deny the young and the poor of their equal rights are wrong. But on none of these does General Krulak care to comment. His rhetoric is reserved for attacking the doubters, skeptics, and cynics, forgetting that this country was founded by just such men, and has been maintained in that tradition.
America is far more threatened by men like Captain Hanks than by the rise or fall of a nickel-and-dime dictatorship halfway around the world. The greatness of America is in our capacity to tolerate dissent, to be constantly capable of meaningful dialogue between factions of society, and to determine policy on the basis of an enlightened electorate, rather than by a clique of specialists, be they scientific, military or political.
“1974”
(See W. H. Bagley, pp. 18-25, February; and pp. 99-101, July 1970 PROCEEDINGS)
Captain H. H. Smith-Hutton, U. S. Navy (Retired)—Rear Admiral Bagley may be correct in his predictions, but his reasoning and his unsupported statements are not convincing, and are pure fiction. His crystal ball may be very clouded.
On the other hand, it is quite clear what he is trying to tell us. We know that our government will neither start nor precipitate a war, but that it will be started by a foreign aggressor at the time, place, and in the manner that the aggressor desires. We all know that within the past several years the Soviet Union has built a formidable navy and that our own has become relatively weaker in comparison. Rear Admiral Bagley wants to dramatize this complicated political-military situation. He wants us to strengthen and modernize our Navy, and this is indeed praiseworthy.
“Battle: No Longer the Pay-off?”
(See S. T. Possony, pp. 32-37, August 1970 PROCEEDINGS)
Robert W. Sharer—While reading Doctor Possony’s stimulating article, I was curious as to why he did not mention, at least briefly, the Siege of Dien Bien Phu as a modern example of a battle of annihilation. It was certainly one in which “. . . the mistakes of the vanquished [were] among the chief causes of their perdition . . . .” The French command, hoping to lure the Viet Minh insurgents into fighting a conventional battle, placed their forces in an exposed position. In a move that is out of character for insurgents, the Viet Minh accepted the challenge and won decisively. The French had overestimated the capabilities of their Air Force to provide close air support, to interdict the enemy flow of supplies, and to supply the besieged garrison at Dien Bien Phu. They also underestimated the supply capability of the Viet Minh.
I feel that Doctor Possony could have included in his outline of the stages in insurgency warfare the idea that the guerrilla force may reach a state of development in which it can be organized to undertake conventional battles as the Viet Minh did at Dien Bien Phu. It is extremely risky for the insurgent to do so. Doctor Possony might argue that it is also unnecessary, that the insurgent can achieve control of the nation by avoiding contact except in ambush and by concentrating on extending his control over the people. Yet, the Viet Minh did choose to fight a conventional battle and succeeded not only in winning the battle, but also in forcing the French to withdraw from Indochina.
While a conventional battle may not have a regular place in the guerrilla’s plan of operations, “doing the unexpected” does. It is to the credit of the Viet Minh command, and General Vo Nguyen Giap in particular, that they were able to read the situation at Dien Bien Phu and do the unexpected.
“Image of Command”
(See S. H. Edwards, pp. 36-39, February; pp. 102-104, July; and p. 98, September 1970 PROCEEDINGS)
Lieutenant Commander Frederick T. Daly, U. S. Navy—Command at sea is, and always will be, an officer’s unequaled responsibility—the opportunity to stand or fall on one’s ability, courage, and imagination.
The image of command is best demonstrated by those commanding officers who truly and enthusiastically enjoy command, who relish all the major and minor rewards, and who calmly and competently accept the reverses, dangers, and frustrations. The image of command comes from within the commander. In turn, he has the respect and admiration of the members of his command, and of his counterparts in other commands. When this is the case, his image is secure enough, and should be sufficient motivation for junior officers seeking goals in the Navy.