“U. S. Naval Ship Design: Platforms vs. Payloads”
(See R. Leopold, pp. 30-37 August 1975 Proceedings)
Captain Frank Buckley, U. S. Navy (Retired) Engineering Specialist, Litton Data Systems Division—Mr. Leopold’s article lends needed perspective to much of what has been written about the Spruance. Most such interest to date has centered on the basic ship, including the choices of hull and power plant. Mr. Leopold stresses the relationship of the basic ship to the installed combat weapon system, and recognizes that the reason for the platform’s existence is to haul the payload to a location where it can be used.
The Spruance successfully completed acceptance trials on 9 July and was delivered to the Navy. The USS Spruance (DD-963) was commissioned at Pascagoula in September. The payload, i.e., the combat weapon system, was subjected to a number of operational demonstrations of its basic functions during these sea trials.
Litton’s Data Systems Division (DSD) was subcontracted to the Ingalls Shipbuilding Division for the purpose of integrating the several subsystems of the combat weapon system with CIC and the software, including the Ship’s Operational Program (SOP) which controls them. This resulted in the construction of the Command and Control Shore Station (CCSS) at Culver City, California, and the Land Based Test Facility (LBTF) at Pascagoula—the latter within the new Ingalls series production shipyard. Each of these units contains a substantially complete CIC. The CCSS includes an SQS-53 sonar and an ASROC launcher. The initial use of this facility was for checking software. At the LBTF, shipboard consoles and other CIC equipment have been undergoing hardware tests before installation on board ship. The CCSS, however, has a broader capability.
Actual preparation of sea trials test procedures began in the late fall of 1973 in DSD’s DD Test and Evaluation Department. These were ready for dry runs at the CCSS and the LBTF by April of 1974. These procedures were laid out to demonstrate the basic functions of the respective subsystems in an operational sequence representative of a combat situation. They were run by personnel of the Systems Test and Trials Section of the DD Test and Evaluation Department.
Proofing of these procedures was necessary to confirm that the hardware and software would meet the contract specifications, and that the procedures would adequately demonstrate this. Visits to the CCSS centered on refining and debugging the procedures, incorporating additional features in them such as Link 11 capability, and developing a team capable of conducting operational demonstrations at sea. Hardware and software faults were also detected and brought to the attention of DSD’s Culver City and Mississippi personnel for correction. There were similar proofing opportunities at the LBTF, but use of the CCSS was mandatory to check out interfaces between sonar, the ASROC and torpedo launchers, and CIC until the Spruance was far enough along to permit significant system testing on board ship at dockside.
A significant step occurred in January of 1975 prior to sea trials when personnel of the Systems Test and Trials Section conducted a demonstration for Navy observers at Culver City, using the test procedures prepared for sea trials. This resulted in Navy concurrence that the procedure was ready to support sea trials.
Combat weapon system tests were conducted at sea on board the Spruance on three separate occasions, the last during acceptance trials. During these trials the CIC stations were manned and the tests conducted by personnel of the DD Test and Evaluation Department. An example of these tests is the ASW operational demonstration. This provided for the initial detection of a simulated enemy submarine at relatively long range. The ship then directed an ASW aircraft in a simulated attack. At closer range, an ASROC attack was simulated. Finally, an over-the-side torpedo attack was simulated. During these sequences, ASW data were transmitted to the LBTF, and from it to the Spruance. This test, and others, ran very well.
DSD’s participation will continue in post delivery reaction time and error budget tests to be conducted at down-range sites (including Atlantic Underwater Test and Evaluation Center [AUTEC] and Atlantic Fleet Range Support Facility [AFRSF]) when a well-trained Navy team will be manning the equipment under the direction of the ship’s commanding officer. A sort of graduation exercise for ship and crew will be conducted during the mission demonstration, when the combat system will be more highly stressed than during acceptance trials with a greater number and variety of threats.
The mission demonstration will be the moment-of-truth. The basic requirements have been complied with and remaining trial prospects look promising. Provision on board the Spruance for updating combat weapons system hardware will make this process less demanding of time and dollars than before, and it is an important point cited by Mr. Leopold. Tunnel vision prevents some experts from acknowledging its importance.
As these ships join the fleet in increasing numbers, their contribution to the Navy’s operational capability will become evident. Some of the criticism of this program has been justified. Some of it seems to stem from a bandwagon syndrome. Much of this will become recognized as chaff.
Progress Item—The 8-inch Gun
(See p. 126, August 1975 Proceedings)
Thomas C. Collier—I read with more than passing interest the announcement of the installation of an 8-inch/55 caliber Mk 71 gun on the USS Hull (DD-945). As the BuShips’ inventor of the 5-in./54 caliber lower stage hoists and ammunition drums, I couldn’t help wonder how much the new gun system costs. We were awarded $14.28 for each of six patents associated with my part of the 5-in./54 caliber gun system.
“The New Uniforms: Who Wants Them?”
(See C. R. Adams, p. 81, September 1975 Proceedings)
Robert McLaren—I have read without pleasure that the Navy has declared “bell bottoms” passé. Never having the privilege of wearing the “middy blouse and bells,” spending my sea time in the U. S. Merchant Marine where you did not know the captain from the wiper while in port and sometimes at sea, I feel that an injustice has been done to the entire Navy in the breaking of a well-established naval tradition. Trying to understand a supposed “update image” of the modern sailor for recruiting, rank will still have its privilege; advancement to higher rating and a change in uniform should go hand in hand.
“Should the Navy Design Its Own Ships?”
(See R. Leopold, pp. 150-173, May 1975 Proceedings, Naval Review Issue)
Captain Robert L. Evans, U. S. Navy (Retired), Marine and Rail Equipment Consultant—I read Mr. Leopold’s highly informative article with great interest. As “one of the few officers in the Bureau of Ships” mentioned in his article involved in ship design in the “old days,” I would offer a few comments on ship design procedure just prior to, during, and after World War II. During those periods I was actively involve the design of naval vessels.
My first comment must be on design procedure described in Figure 2a (page 165), which the supporting comment states “remained almost totally unchanged from 1939 to 1966.” From 1940—October, when I started in the business—until 1946, at least, the procedure was somewhat different from the one described by Mr. Leopold. At that time there was no Ships Characteristics Board (SCB), and prior to the outbreak of World War II, CNO’s “side of the house”, was organized somewhat differently. During this period ships’ characteristics were determined by the Navy’s General Board, a group of admirals acting in an advisory capacity to the CNO. In practice, although not formally structured, one member of the board had to be assigned the duty of the developing a ship’s characteristics with the aid of the interested Navy Department bureaus. When a firm set of characteristics had been reached by this informal means, the board held hearings at which the ship was discussed and sometimes modified. Subsequent to the hearings formal characteristics were issued after being “ratified” by the Genera [sic] Board and the CNO.
During World War II, and after the appointment of Admiral King as the CNO and Commander-in-Chief, U. S. Fleet, shortcuts were taken in the design procedures; but it could also be said that during this period the procedure was applied more to modifying existing ship classes than to creating new concepts. In the modification process the “few officers in the Bureau of Ships” worked with CNO types and their counterparts in the Navy Department bureaus to develop characteristics rather than with the General Board. These were mostly changes in armament (more small caliber AA guns and ammunition), bridge arrangements, and accommodations to make room for larger crews.
The Ships Characteristics Board was created after World War II. I am not sure of the exact date of its birth, but it did not operate effectively until after July, 1946.
In addition to organization, I would also like to comment on the length of time that ship design procedures take today, as well as the manpower absorbed by them. An interesting point of reference is to compare the time and manpower expended then and now.
The first design I will discuss, is the World War II LST. While I remember an article written about the LST design which appeared in a 1947 Saturday Evening Post, it, as well as any other article I ever remember reading, failed to mention the origin of the concept. Only a few people were involved in the work at that stage and almost all of those who were are not living today. By way of introduction, some British naval constructors, assigned to the Bureau of Ships during the summer of 1941, had brought with them some rough and incomplete sketches of a concept called a “Winnette”—a landing craft which could carry tanks across the English Channel. I was given this material in the summer of 1941 with the suggestion that I study it and see what might result. No priority emphasis was assigned to this task so not a great deal of work was done on it. We also had in the Preliminary Design Group most of the British tank landing craft design drawings.
One afternoon in October 1941, about 1400, Admiral (then Captain) E. L. Cochrane came into the Preliminary Design Section looking for Admiral (then Commander) Kniskern who was head of the section. Since Commander Kniskern was out, Captain Cochrane explained the project he had come to discuss to me, and then to John C. Niedermair, the civilian head of the section, with me present. The explanation was a simple one. Captain Cochrane said that the British wanted a ship to carry ten 50-ton tanks and their ancillary equipment across the Atlantic Ocean and land on a beach with a slope of one in 150. The landing would not be at the end of the voyage but would be after a staging stop. Speed was not essential. By 1630 that afternoon John Niedermair had sketched the profile of a ship, the result of our afternoon’s work, on a four by six-and-one-half inch sheet of notebook paper. It was very like the first LST I saw in being in Quincy, Massachusetts, at the Bethlehem Steel shipbuilding plant in 1943. John and I dug out the sketch from the preliminary design files in 1952; it still looked like an LST! The design met all of the stated requirements except the beach slope for landing. We had to use a beach slope of one in 50 to keep from getting a more ungainly ship than the one we had already arrived at.
Three weeks were spent in preliminary design verifying the calculations made that afternoon. No dimensional changes were needed. The design was, in fact, “ratified” by these studies. During those three weeks model tests were run to confirm power estimates; variations in the lines were investigated; a flat, instead of a formed bilge strake was tried in an attempt to make the ship easier for a small shipbuilder to build, but was discarded because of the increased resistance it caused. I don’t recall the length of time the Contract Design Section of the Bureau of Ships spent on the LST plans and specifications, but I do recall that upon the completion of its work, the papers were given to the Maritime Commission to determine its interest in producing it. The Maritime Commission returned the papers about 7 December 1941 professing no interest.
When the Preliminary Design Section finished its work the ship was called the Atlantic Tank Landing Craft (ATLC). Soon after the work on the ATLC was completed the proliferation of landing craft known by various names, such as tank landing craft, personnel landing craft, etc., became such a morass of acronyms that the CNO designated all of the craft as landing craft and gave them such designators as LSTs, LCI(L)s, LCUs, LCMs, LSMs, etc.
The total preliminary design manpower at this time was about 12 people, six of whom produced the LST design in the three weeks. Greater numbers of people were used in preparing the contract plans and specifications, but using my own contract design experience as a guage [sic], I would estimate that the number of people used by that section was no more than 20.
The second case of ship design I would comment on is pertinent to the time required just prior to World War II to complete a concept and write characteristics for a new ship design—the Midway-class aircraft carriers. There is a similarity between this design and the LST in that both were instituted by Captain Cochrane with some quite terse instructions. In the case of the Midway, Captain Cochrane came into the Preliminary Design Section after his return from London in late 1940 and asked us to look at an aircraft carrier design with an armored flight deck like the Illustrious-class ships of the Royal Navy. The ship was to have other characteristics, plane complement, armament, cruising radius, etc., the same as the Essex-class ships. The studies took about two months’ work on my part, after which the results were discussed with the General Board. There was a genuine interest shown by the board. Characteristics were developed, hearings were held, and the results (characteristics) were issued to the responsible Navy bureaus prior to 7 December 1941. I recollect that the preliminary design work on this ship class took about three months and involved the work of eight people.
More effort, of course, was expended in the contract design work for this class of ships. Modifications to the preliminary design work resulted in an extensive series of model tests in order to maintain the characteristic speed with the machinery plant that was originally intended to have been a small modification to the plants being built and installed in the Iowa-class battleships. Even with modifications and the extensive model testing that resulted from them, the contract plans and specifications were in the builders hands by mid-1942—a period of less than two years.
The manpower and time needed to produce ship designs today seems to have expanded more than an order of magnitude since the end of World War II. One must hope that the technical excellence of the product has improved as much as the time and manpower has that is required to produce it.
“Shanghai Duty, 1937–1938: How Bittersweet It Was”
(See Pictorial, pp. 79-91, November 1974; C. T. Kirkman, p. 79, February 1975 Proceedings)
Bettis M. Frank—The old saying attributed to the Chinese that one picture equals 10,000 words does not necessarily always hold true, and especially so in the case of the picture in the pictorial on the top of page 90. Unless I am mistaken, the Marines shown in gas masks belonged to Company E, 2d Battalion, 4th Marines, commanded by Captain Wallace M. Greene, Jr. later 23d Commandant of the Marine Corps (1964–1967). To put this picture in proper perspective, it must be noted that the 4th Marines had been garrisoned in Shanghai since 1928 and its mission, until its departure for the Philippines in November 1941, had been pretty much the same—the protection of American lives and property in the International Settlement. Having stated this, we can proceed to the story behind the military formation in which Company E is poised in this picture and the historical precedent which this formation represents.
By August 1937, when the Sino-Japanese War had reached the outskirts of Shanghai, the 4th Marines were already in defensive positions in the Settlement and supporting the Municipal Police in guaranteeing and ensuring the neutrality of the International Settlement. Together with the other foreign military detachments stationed in the Settlement, the 4th Marines were prepared to meet all exigencies brought on by the war. Anticipated as a real threat was street rioting by Chinese refugees who had crowded into the Settlement in an attempt to escape the onsurging Japanese forces.
To counter the threat of riots, Captain Greene’s rifle company was organized into a “riot company” to make it a more flexible instrument in dealing with the riots and accompanying looting and other disorder. The heart of this unit was the four-man “fighting team,” in which may be seen the forerunner of the four-man fire team which proved to be such an effective Marine combat infantry formation in World War II, Korea, and Vietnam. Prior to the advent of the riot company and its fighting teams, the squad had been the lowest echelon over which control could be maintained and fire discipline supervised in a combat situation. The problem of control in combat has always plagued commanders—the more difficult the terrain over which a battle is fought, the more difficult it is to maintain control.
Marine experiences in jungle fighting and antibanditry activities in Central America in the early 1900s led to the conclusion that, among other factors, the employment of an additional number of automatic weapons in each squad proved to be the key to success in individual engagements. Essentially this meant a ratio of one automatic weapon (basically the Browning automatic rifle [BAR] or Thompson submachine gun) to every three or four men.
Captain Greene’s riot company reflected this reliance on the automatic rifle or Tommy gun, as the Thompson was sometimes called, as the base of fire and the nucleus of a small fire group. To begin with, each of the three platoons of the 90-Marine Company E was divided into six fighting teams of four men each. Each team was led by a senior private or junior NCO and prepared to act either independently or as an integral part of the riot company as a whole.
When called out to quell a riot, the company would advance to its objective in a column of platoons, each platoon deployed in a line of fighting teams. Each Marine in the 1st and 3d Platoons was equipped with a rifle, bayonet, cartridge belt stuffed with 100 rounds of ammunition, steel helmet, and gas mask. All of the company’s automatic weapons were assigned to the 2d Platoon, making it more heavily armed than the other two. The first and sixth fighting teams each had four men, two of whom were armed with the BAR, while the other two carried the Thompson (a total of four automatic rifles and four submachine guns in the platoon). Marines in the second and fifth teams were armed with rifles with bayonets fixed, while the third and fourth teams were comprised of rifle grenadiers, each with eight tear gas grenades.
Backing up the riot company and stationed in back of the 2d Platoon in the advance was a riot truck with a mounted machine gun. The truck also carried three machine gunners, a BAR, a submachine gun, extra magazines and ammunition for these as well as the other weapons in the company, together with extra gas and fragmentation grenades. As shown in the picture on page 90, in the vanguard of the company with the company commander was a runner carrying a banner on which a warning to disperse was written in large Chinese characters.
The four-man fighting team comprised the heart of the riot company. If the situation warranted, individual fighting teams could be detached for independent missions without destroying the integrity of the riot company or the basic antiriot formation. The riot company formation promised success because of its simple line formation, ease of control, and, primarily, flexibility with which the fighting teams could be employed.
As General Greene noted a number of years later,
“It is probable that one of the precursors of the fire team (of World War II) appeared in the organization and employment of the fighting teams of the special riot company. We certainly were headed in the right direction. The concept leading to the formation and deployment of the small independent units in Nicaragua was clearly paralleled and refined to reflect local requirements in Shanghai. The ability and willingness of Marines to study the experiences of the past and to adopt them to the needs of contemporary tactics continues the tradition of the Marine Corps as a true force-in-readiness.”
Robert J. Cressman—My interest in things Chinese or “Asiatic” began nearly four years ago, and it was at that time that I began a project on Admiral H. E. Yarnell that still continues. Your pictorial is a step in the right direction of finally providing coverage to an era so long neglected.
However, the picture at the top of page 86 is not part of Admiral Harry E. Yarnell’s inspection of the 4th Regiment, which occurred on 3–4June 1937. There is no mention (either in his diaries or letters) of having inspected the Marines at any other time dealing with the period mentioned in the pictorial. Yarnell’s inspection being conducted in June meant that whites were worn—the naval officer in the photo on page 86 is in blues, and is a commander. Yarnell commented on the two-day inspection:
“Briefly, they are a fine lot of officers and men as Marines usually are, well disciplined, living under conditions of housing in the middle of a crowded city which renders it a difficult matter to maintain a high state of morale. Drill grounds are limited in area. Range practice with service ammunition is difficult to obtain. The hospital, or dispensary, in a dilapidated house is especially bad. It is surprising that the medical personnel do so well under such discreditable housing conditions . . .” (Yarnell to CNO, Adm. W. D. Leahy, 5 June 1937)
When trouble broke out in a big way at Shanghai in 1937, Yarnell sent for additional Marines, which were, as noted, the 6th Regiment. Marine Corps Commandant General Thomas Holcomb noted with satisfaction that the Admiral wanted Marines from the West Coast and not Army from Manila. Yarnell gave his reason in a 23 September 1937 letter to Admiral Leahy very simply—the Army was a bunch of troublemakers and he didn’t want them around!
“Naval and Maritime Events January 1974–June 1974”
(See J. B. Finkelstein, p. 50, May 1975 Proceedings, Naval Review Issue)
James Gillespie—It is a shame that Commander J. B. Finkelstein chose the item he did regarding the U. S. Marine Band. I’m sure there were, and are, many positive activities he could have mentioned instead of the fining of the band’s leader, particularly since the band is one of the best public relations groups the service has. Perhaps you’ll find space for a favorable item concerning these Marines who receive little recognition for their service in the band.
During the Twenties and Thirties the Army, Navy, and Marine bands were regular weekly features on a Washington, D.C., radio station. As I remember they only went off the air because President Franklin D. Roosevelt ruled they were competing with civilian bandsmen. Since this occurred during the Depression, it was probably true because the service bands were musically very good, always on a good program, a pleasure to listen to, and uninterrupted by commercials!
My favorite was the U. S. Marine Band under the leadership of Captain Taylor Branson. It played a regular one-hour program every week, and its listeners formed a devoted legion. Each concert included music to suit all tastes and always featured a first-class soloist from the ranks of the band. Occasionally the band members would double on stringed instruments, and the result a very good symphony orchestra. Incidentally, the announcer for these radio broadcasts was a young man named Arthur Godfrey!
“Attack Carriers: The Human Equation”
(See T. C. Schelin, pp. 26-32, February 1975; M. E. Eastwood, p. 84, June 1975; N. J. and D. M. Norton, pp. 88-90, August 1975 Proceedings)
Commander J. Alden, U. S. Navy (Retired)—Lieutenant Commander Norton’s comment on work management existing on our aircraft carriers indicates how little some things changed in our Navy. It took me back 25 years to the time when I was transferred from submarine duty to be electronic repair officer in a CVE. It was the practice on return to port for liberty to be declared at the discretion of department heads, whereupon all non-duty personnel, except for those in the engineering department, promptly left the ship for the weekend or whatever. My division was under the operations department, but my problems were those of the engineering department. While we were at sea, practically all the electronic gear was in constant operation, so we couldn’t perform much preventive maintenance. The only time an electronics technician (ET) could get near the equipment was when a break-down needed to be repaired, and then the objective was to get it back in operation as quickly as possible. A few qualified technicians were able to handle these requirements, so the bulk of the gang had little to do except sit around while we were at sea. In port, however, all hands had to turn to in order to complete the maintenance, upkeep, and repair of all equipment before going to sea again. Yet, whenever we were in port the men were also called on to do their share of the routine ship-keeping and watchstanding, loading of stores, and attending various short courses. The division of labor was obviously wrong.
My suggested solution was to schedule school time, leave, etc. for as many of the ETs as could be spared while the ship was at sea so they would be available when they were needed—during the in-port periods and, in particular, during overhaul and upkeep periods. You would have thought I wanted to turn the world upside down! Such a thing was never heard of! Fortunately, the operations officer, although an “airdale,” was a reasonable and considerate man, and I finally persuaded him to let me leave a few men ashore during an operating period. I left the ship shortly thereafter so I don’t know whether the policy was continued, but I doubt it.
The problem never arose in submarines because we couldn’t afford to have separate divisions for equipment operation who did no maintenance, and for maintenance and repair who didn’t operate the gear.
An Act of Piracy
Lieutenant Commander Brent Baker, U. S. Navy—It is not beyond the realm of possibility that, on 21 October 1985, we might pick up our morning newspapers with the headline “American Ship Seized—Still No U. S. Response” and read: There was still no official White House clarification of possible military action three days after last Saturday’s seizure of an American “floating college” ship by gunboats of the People’s Democratic Republic of Indo-China (PDRIC) in international waters.
The captured ship, SS College Explorer, is a five-year-old oceanographic studies ship operated by the California Ocean Resources University at Palo Alto. The ship with 45 students and 30 faculty and crew members on board was on a four-month semester cruise when it was boarded by armed troops about 60 miles southeast of the tiny South China Sea Paracel Islands. Shortly after the seizure, the ship’s radio operator reported the ship was being forced to anchor near one of the PDRIC’s floating oil rigs. The ship’s radio then went dead, and there was no further word on the fate of the young college students or the faculty and crew.
Unfortunately, the U. S. intelligence community was unable to confirm either the fact that the ship had been captured or the present location of the ship. A foreign intelligence “blackout” was imposed on the CIA and other U. S. intelligence gathering agencies after the famous mid-1970 publicity exposures. Foreign intelligence sources have completely dried up and formerly reliable sources have refused to exchange information with the U. S. intelligence community for fear of security leaks and accompanying publicity.
PDRIC radio broadcasts claim that the SS College Explorer had been boarded “within the 200-mile sovereign economic sea territory” and that the American “spy ship” had entered the area, without prior permission, to spy on undersea oil and mineral mining operations. The White House and Ocean Resources University officials strongly deny the spy ship charge. Officials note that the ship was part of a government subsidized ocean resources educational program; however, that is the only government connection, and the university had complete authority over the operation of the floating college ship.
About four hours after the ship’s capture, the President, according to his White House spokesman, declared the seizure “an illegal act of piracy” and “demanded the immediate release of the ship and the Americans on board.” This strong language echoed the words that another American President had uttered 10 years ago when the American merchant ship Mayaguez was seized by the Cambodian armed forces. Unlike that 1975 incident, which led to swift U. S. military action, the past three days have been filled with official “no comment” and diplomatically worded appeals for the immediate release of the ship, crew, and students.
Administration sources report that the “strained silence” is related to the fact that the President’s military options in the Western Pacific have dwindled considerably since the 1975 Mayaguez incident. Sources report that the four emergency National Security Council meetings called by the President over the past three days have ranged from discussions about military options available in 1975 to the present situation with only a few options open.
Observers note that the past decade has seen the Western Pacific nations turning to regional alliances and disengaging from U. S. commitments following the fall of American-supported South Vietnam and Cambodia. The final erosion of American Western Pacific military presence began, oddly enough, after the recapture of the Mayaguez and release of her crew had proven the value of such ready forward-based U. S. military forces. In June 1975, the withdrawal of U. S. Air Force B-52 and F-111 bombers from Thailand signaled the beginning of the American Western Pacific disengagement.
By 1979, the Association of Western Pacific Asian Nations (AWPAN), which included Japan and the Philippines as members, signed a “Peace Zone” ban on the introduction of foreign military forces in the Western Pacific-Asian area. Shortly thereafter, the Philippines, Japan, Taiwan, and South Korea separately announced a second reassessment of their military agreements with the United States. No longer was the United States to have unlimited access to bases in the Western Pacific-Asia area.
By 1980, with the exception of a limited number of U. S. Seventh Fleet warships and shipboard Marines, the last American combat forces were withdrawn from Western Pacific bases. With the 1980 signing of the joint Japanese-South Korean “Mutual Self-defense and Neutrality Treaty,” all U. S. combat units, including the 2nd Infantry Division, South Korea (now located at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri) and the 3rd Marine Division, Japan (now located at the huge U. S. military base at Tinian in the Marianas Islands), were withdrawn from the Western Pacific. Clark Air Force Base in the Philippines was also closed in 1980.
With this background in mind, knowledgeable sources state that present crisis planning for the use of Marines is hindered by the “new realities” of the limited U. S. military posture in that area of the world. The problem is finding a forward staging base in the Western Pacific where the Marines can be landed to carry out their rescue mission. All the governments in the area require prior approval before landing any U. S. combat troops. The nearest bases are in the Philippines, but there appears to be little chance of getting permission to land there. Both Subic Bay Maritime Facility (now a joint Philippine-American contractor-operated facility) and the former Clark Air Force Base (now known as Western Pacific International Air Express Terminal) still seem to be the best possibilities. However, as each day passes, the possibility of landing Marines at either facility appears to dwindle. The Government of the Philippines has offered to attempt a negotiated release of the ship through an AWPAN-sponsored effort.
Reliable administration sources report that the “new realities” preclude any quick decisive military response. With reduced numbers of ships and their “at sea” time cut, the Seventh Fleet has no warships in the immediate area of the seizure. Furthermore, with only a meager foothold and limited access to the remaining Western Pacific facilities (Subic Bay and the joint Japanese-American Naval Facility at Yokosuka), getting ships underway from these ports to assist in the rescue operation most likely would bring down the final curtain on any U. S. military presence in the Western Pacific.
In short, the unilateral options open to the President of the United States seem to be limited to either B-1 punitive raids launched from Guam and Tinian or the slow deployment of Navy amphibious ships loaded with Marines from the West Coast. Neither of these options seem to be warmly embraced by the Administration.
And so, the sound of frustration and sobs of military and civilian officials alike is apparent as they think about the good old 1970s when they had the capability for a more flexible response. These officials note that the Mayaguez crew was safe on board their recaptured ship within three days. Surely the words of the Mayaguez’s captain, “Let me tell you one thing. If it wasn’t for our Air Force, Navy, and Marines, I don’t think this crew would be standing before you today,” are heavy on their minds.