Applying new technological breakthroughs to military missions requires careful consideration and an incremental approach—in other words, an evolution, not a revolution. The best example of this is the successful CH-53E program.
We are about to experience a revolution in military affairs—or so we are told. A diverse group of futurists, academics, and technocrats are predicting that, in the coming century, the nation’s armed forces will perform their functions in radically different ways. Probably because we are approaching a new millennium, or perhaps because these pundits do have some special insights, there is a certain amount of excitement among defense intellectuals. Joseph Nye, dean of the John F. Kennedy School of Government at Harvard, and retired Admiral William Owens, former Vice Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, for example, see this revolution being driven by technological advances in C4I and something called “precision force.”' Because of technical breakthroughs in intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance, they assert that “knowledge, more than ever before, is power.”
In response to this activity in influential circles, each of the services is busily advertising itself as the most forward-looking, cost-effective component of a department anticipating the 21st century. The Army is promoting its Force XXI. The Air Force has Vision 21, and the Navy is looking Forward . . . From the Sea. The Marine Corps has labeled its particular collection of concepts Sea Dragon, for the “dragon of change” that must be ridden if we are to influence, or even to survive, the wave of the future.
But behind the advertising hype, a real battle of the budget is under way. Whatever the top line of the DoD budget turns out to be over the next few years, it likely will be significantly lower in real terms than it has been in the past. Within this smaller budget pie, the competition for program funding priority becomes ever more intense. As Nye and Owens tell it, the exploitation of intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance technologies will not be inexpensive, but because they promise such revolutionary results, they should receive higher priority than, say, more B-2 aircraft. This “victory through soft power” argument smacks of Billy Mitchell and other air-power enthusiasts of the 1920s.
What we actually have been experiencing throughout most of this century is a quite rapid advance in all branches of science and technology, with occasional revolutions in particular functional areas. Accordingly, members of the profession of arms must understand and keep track of these developments until their application to military and naval science becomes feasible. But even then, these professionals must make prudent judgments—based on careful consideration of assigned missions and the prevailing situation—as to specific applications of emerging technology. This suggests an incremental, trial-and-error approach to change rather than a leap to embrace what is new. In other words, it calls for an evolutionary rather than a revolutionary approach.
The CH-53E program provides a good example of this alternative way of looking at things. It represents a technology that was revolutionary 50 years ago and now—after a long, evolutionary development—probably is near the apex of its military potential. This particular aircraft was designed and continues to perform a wide variety of essential assault support tasks, most of which are not very glamorous and tend to be taken for granted. They are, however, like the miniaturized integrated circuitry that is invisible to the user but that lies at the heart of the revolution in electronic systems. The CH-53’s commonplace assault and logistic support capabilities enable the theoretical concepts of wide-ranging maneuver in an expanded battlespace to be implemented within the definitive and limiting physical dimensions of volume and time.
The CH-53E Super Stallion is not only the premier heavy-lift helicopter in the free world, but also a model for major DoD acquisition programs in a time of peace and great uncertainty about the future.
We are not, after all, inexperienced in military revolutions. More than six decades ago, a small group of Marines at Quantico was trying to divine the future. They were developing the operational concepts and associated material and training requirements needed to implement War Plan Orange, the color code for Japan in a series known as the Rainbow Plans. In the event of war, the fleet would need intermediate bases across the Pacific Ocean before it could attack the Japanese home islands directly. If these bases did not exist, they would have to be built. If they were in enemy hands, they would have to be seized. This need dictated the mission of the new Fleet Marine Force, and the planners of the period were busy filling in the details of tactics, techniques, and equipment required to accomplish this mission. But the concepts of the 1930s had to wait for the mobilization of the 1940s, when the Higgins boats and Roebling tractors needed to implement these concepts became available in quantity.
After the detonation of nuclear weapons in the closing days of World War II, there was general agreement that warfare would never be the same. A truly revolutionary development in ordnance technology had emerged. This sea change was not lost on military professionals. As the 1950s began, planners—again at Quantico—were busy determining how Marines could accomplish their missions, this time under threat of enemy nuclear weapons. But their work was interrupted by the beginning of the Cold War.
In the first campaign of this struggle, the movement of tactical units by helicopter over the rough terrain of Korea demonstrated another revolutionary development, this time in aircraft technology. In 1951 HMR-161 (15 HRS-1 helicopters) flew 65 sorties in four hours to move a company (224 troops, 17,800 pounds of cargo) to a hilltop position. The move would have taken 15 hours on foot, so it was a significant tactical breakthrough.
In the following months, the movement and resupply of battalion-sized units by helicopter became almost routine. Although early helicopters were not very capable, their use presaged the wholesale employment of vertical-takeoff-and-landing aircraft in the next campaign of the Cold War, in Southeast Asia. By the late 1960s, after two decades of development and five years in Southeast Asia, the requirement for a heavy-lift helicopter to recover downed aircraft was established. The desired payload was set at 18 tons, significantly more than the 5,000 pounds established in 1947. (See table 1.)
Because under DoD acquisition regulations product-improvement programs are faster and less expensive than new program initiatives, this was the acquisition strategy chosen for the heavy-lift helo. The CH-53E Super Stallion, designed and tested in the 1970s to meet a specific requirement, joined the fleet in the early 1980s. It could lift a payload of 16 tons over a combat radius of 50 nautical miles at an average speed of 140 knots. Even as this quantum leap in capability was becoming available, the requirement that it was designed to meet was changing.
In the 1980s, Marine Corps ground-combat elements were adding new, improved items to their tables of equipment. A new howitzer (15,500 pounds), a new family of five-ton trucks (23,000 pounds), and a light armored vehicle (28,000 pounds) added to the demand for heavy-lift assault support. The Navy also sought to exploit this increased capability, employing the CH-53E for underway vertical replenishment and the MH-53E for airborne mine countermeasures. The Super Stallion could handle these heavier payloads, but more of these versatile aircraft were needed than previously thought.
Because aircraft with large payloads are themselves large (and relatively expensive) and because some aircraft inevitably are lost to enemy action, the idea of a mix evolved: large, heavy-lift helicopters to maximize the productivity of the force combined with smaller aircraft, for assaults into high-threat areas. The loss of a smaller aircraft would not carry with it the same loss of personnel or quantity of high-value cargo.
It is noteworthy that the first Marine Corps study of this mix strategy in 1955 recommended a heavy-to-light mix of 4 to 1. When the first heavy-lift helicopter, the HR2S, joined the fleet in 1956 but failed to live up to its promises, the mix was reversed in a clear-eyed recognition of a technological setback. The force planning goal of five medium to one heavy helicopter was the mix in effect at the beginning of the conflict in Southeast Asia. Later, as problems developed with the new CH-46 medium-lift helicopter and the need for more light helicopters and gunships was recognized, the mix changed again, this time to a four- to-two medium-to-heavy ratio. The lesson here is that paper studies in peacetime are, at best, educated guesses that may assist in establishing guidelines for long-term programs. But it is from the application of real technological capabilities in actual operational situations that hard military requirements are derived.
Throughout the 1980s and into the 1990s, the CH-53E built on its reputation. Even though it was not designed for special operations, the long legs of the Marines’ cargo version proved useful in performing tasks that stretched the envelope of their assault-support mission. In January 1991, when the U.S. Embassy in Mogadishu was threatened by violent mobs during a civil war in Somalia, two CH-53Es carrying a 60-man security force were launched from the Guam (LPH-9) 466 nautical miles from Mogadishu. After two in-flight refuelings from KC-130s, the helicopters arrived in the embassy compound in the dark, just as looters were climbing the walls. Though it did not involve the destruction of a well-defined fixed target, this operation certainly qualifies as an application of “precision force.” In April 1994, when a dangerous situation developed in Rwanda, four KC-130s and three CH-53Es from the Peleliu (LHA-5) flew 330 Marines to neighboring Burundi (700 miles from the nearest blue water) to provide security for the evacuation of U.S. and U.N. personnel. Finally, CH-53Es from the Kearsarge (LHD-3) played the key role in the operation that rescued Lieutenant Scott O’Grady from Bosnia last year.
These performances made headlines, but the day-to-day performance of this workhorse is much less glamorous. Whether the task is to help unload maritime prepositioning ships in the stream, to lift heavy equipment over natural or manmade obstacles inland, or to provide sustaining resupply to maneuver elements on an extended battlefield, the CH-53E’s strong suit is productivity (ton miles per hour). For example, in a hypothetical situation similar to Desert Storm, the night resupply of one day’s fuel and ammo for a force of 40 armored combat vehicles (a tank company plus two rifle companies in amphibious assault vehicles) at a forward arming and refueling point would require the movement of some 40 tons of cargo. If performed by land vehicles from a supply point 50 miles to the rear, this task would take eight five-ton trucks almost three hours to accomplish. Four CH-53E sorties could accomplish the same task in about a half-hour. Flying from a mobile base at sea, 100 miles from the resupply point, the task could be accomplished in less than an hour.
These are the kinds of situations under consideration in Sea Dragon: relatively small, semi-independent maneuver elements operating over much greater distances than before, on a greatly expanded battlefield. In such scenarios, the assault support mission of Marine aviation becomes even more important, especially in regions where the terrain is more challenging than the flat expanses of the Arabian Desert. The CH-53E represents proven technology, available today, and less than halfway into what can reasonably be expected to be a 40-year service life. But the aircraft needs another product improvement program, and the fleet needs more of them.
Designed to be a heavy lifter in a benign environment, the CH-53E is today performing the medium-lift assault mission in an interim role. This will be the case until the next generation of aircraft technology—the tilt-rotor V-22—arrives. This leads to the conclusion that the CH-53E needs a midlife upgrade to improve its survivability, night and all-weather flight capabilities, and power plant. Improvements in reliability, availability, and maintainability also would be cost-effective.
Table 1: Evolution of USMC Helicopter Requirements/Capabilities | |
1947 | Statement of requirement for helicopter with 5,000 pound payload |
1948 | First two helicopters delivered (H03S); payload: 750 pounds/three passengers |
1951 | First employment of helicopters for tactical mobility (HRS-1 payload: 1,500 pounds/six passengers) |
1955 | First mix study (heavy-to-light ratio = 4:1) |
1956 | Initial operational capability of HR2S (CH-37) (payload: 5,000 pounds/20 passengers) |
1957 | Initial operational capability of HUS (UH-34) medium-lift (payload: 3,000 pounds/8 passengers) |
1958 | Reversal of helicopter force mix (new mix: medium-to-heavy ratio = 5:1) |
1962 | Medium Helicopter Squadron (HMM)-362 (24 HUS) deployed to RVN |
1964 | Initial operational capability of CH-46A medium- lift replacement (payload: 4,000 pounds/16 passengers) |
1966 | Initial operational capability of CH-53A heavy-lift replacement (payload: 8,000 pounds/32 passengers) |
1967 | Helicopter mix changed (medium-to-heavy ratio = 4:2) |
1968 | Requirement established for heavy-lift helicopter with 18-ton payload |
1975 | Evacuations of Phnom Penh and Saigon |
1981 | Initial operational capability of CH-53E heavy-lift (payload: 32,000 pounds) |
Since Desert Storm, the assault support tasks most often generated by actual contingencies have been those that place a premium on heavy lift and long range. Older helicopters, still occupying space on board forward-deployed LHAs and LHDS, are not able to contribute much in these situations. These older aircraft (CH-46s and CH-53Ds) should be retired more rapidly, and more CH-53Es should be procured. Forward-deployed ready groups and Marine expeditionary units need to be equipped with the aircraft that can best support their most likely missions.
Both of these suggestions will cost money and have personnel implications. But the situation that places the CH-53E in competition for scarce resources with the B-2, the joint strike fighter, and other high-visibility, high- tech programs illustrates an important point. Research, experimentation, and development efforts are important, especially in peacetime, but it is more important to maintain a balanced set of modernized combat capabilities in the face of an uncertain future—even if it means a smaller total force.
Whether it is in the area of electronics, ordnance and missiles, or land, sea, air, and space vehicles, we can expect to be surprised regularly and tempted to label as revolutionary each new breakthrough in science and technology. But applying these advances to military and naval tasks, especially in a period of peace and very limited resources, calls for great prudence.
As long as the primary mission of our nation’s armed forces continues to be to “locate, close with, and destroy” an enemy in war, the applications of technology that contribute most to overall combat power deserve priority. Applications that assist different elements of an integrated whole to perform their missions effectively are preferable to narrowly focused applications, especially when these require large expenditures of scarce resources. The goal should be that, when combined with human ingenuity, the capability of the whole will be greater than the sum of its parts. Applied to the Marine Corps, this principle suggests that combat service support is as important as air and ground combat capabilities. Within aviation, assault support, along with reconnaissance and electronic warfare, should receive the same attention as antiair warfare and offensive air operations.
Each new generation must “ride the dragon” in its own time and those who bet on “futures” need to hedge their bets. This time around the Corps has a powerful and versatile assault support capability available to ease the transition to the next generation of aircraft technology. As bets are placed, we would do well to recall the old saying, “A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.”
1 See "America’s Information Edge." Foreign Affairs, March/April 1996.
Colonel Grace, a retired Marine, served in Korea and Vietnam in infantry and reconnaissance units and in the First Marine Brigade in Hawaii. He also served in a variety of billets in program and evaluation in Washington, D.C.