This html article is produced from an uncorrected text file through optical character recognition. Prior to 1940 articles all text has been corrected, but from 1940 to the present most still remain uncorrected. Artifacts of the scans are misspellings, out-of-context footnotes and sidebars, and other inconsistencies. Adjacent to each text file is a PDF of the article, which accurately and fully conveys the content as it appeared in the issue. The uncorrected text files have been included to enhance the searchability of our content, on our site and in search engines, for our membership, the research community and media organizations. We are working now to provide clean text files for the entire collection.
reached a preset threshold and no longer offers adequate protection to a vessel, the Dagaie can renew the decoy by firing another one. Nevertheless, the processing of new threats always takes precedence over the renewal calculation function.
The operation of Dagaie does not interfere with other weapons on board, and its efficiency is not degraded by sea conditions. Normally fully loaded, the launcher can be easily reloaded with fresh ammunition “suitcases.” Each suitcase, either an electromagnetic decoy or infra-red decoy, weighs about 50 kilograms. They are easily locked into firing position and disposed of after use. A complete reloading takes less than five minutes.
The firing signal is transmitted through an electromagnetic process (without connector) insensitive to radar beams. In addition, through the base of a suitcase in position, type of decoy (EM or IR) and loading status are displayed on the supervisor unit. The Dagaie suitcase launches decoys distributed in space and time as a result of the flight parameters and payload dispersion structures of the 33 dual projectiles simultaneously fired by 33 predirected mortars located inside the suitcase.
Thus, the deployment of decoys at precise positions is achieved with a very large radar cross-section, located in the missile seeker resolution cell for the EM suitcase with a life span of about five minutes. An elaborate pyrotechnic process and the design of projectiles ensure that the initial action IR decoy, fired close to the vessel, will be continued by other projectiles, creating an apparent displacement of the decoy perpendicularly to the missile flight, with a life span of about 30 seconds.
Credibility was a priority goal in the development of Dagaie. While the EM decoy covers several radar frequencies, with appropriate dimensions (3,000, 5,000, or 10,000 square meters or more) and height, and a maximum useful radar cross-section (in direct relation with the ship’s own) in less than two seconds, the IR decoy has a high energetic brilliancy over the entire IR bandwidth at a credible height. Above all, it is colocated with the radar decoy, maintaining a short distance between the EM and IR clouds’ centers.
This sophisticated ammunition is also reliable, having been rigorously tested (heat, shock, humidity, fire, etc.). Dagaie ammunition has a guaranteed life of three years and a normal life of ten years! It can be optimized in relation to specific threats. This, added to the fact that it is tailor-made for each type of vessel, ensures the maximum efficiency of Dagaie.
Comparison of Dagaie with other current decoying systems leaves little doubt as to its lead in this field in terms of reaction time, credibility, and efficiency.
Commander Roullet joined the French Navy in 1961. His active service included a tour in the Algerian conflict, duty at Naval Headquarters, and assignments as a liaison officer with foreign navies. He is a member of the World Ship Society and the Australian Naval Institute.
Perim on the Red Sea: Geo-Strategic Flashpoint
By Alan M. Scham
If we try to ascribe a single characteristic to the countries situated where Africa and the Middle East meet around the southern entrance to the Red Sea—Ethiopia, the Republic of Djibouti, Somalia, the Yemen Arab Republic (North Yemen), and the People’s Democratic Republic of Yemen (South Yemen)—we cannot use the single word Muslim, Arab, or African, but we can apply the unifying adjective—unstable. It is indeed the intrinsic instability of this large strategic area which threatens world peace at the focal point of Perim. The Straits of Hormuz, for instance, are not the only areas of particular significance. Some oil and much mercantile and naval shipping still go through the Red Sea and the Suez Canal, and always will; such commercial shipping, for instance, is still vital to the economic interests of many countries, and certainly to the Egyptian economy. The Red Sea and Suez Canal access are also critical to the U. S. Navy’s ability to deploy forces rapidly between the Persian Gulf and the Mediterranean Sea.
Perim is the miniscule island which strategically straddles and controls shipping moving in and out of the southern end of the Red Sea. This rocky, but fairly flat, volcanic island is devoid of vegetation, and is 214 feet above the sea at its highest point, providing visibility of the sea-lanes for 20 miles. Perim has primitive harbor facilities, a small airstrip, and a weather and radio station. The Straits of Perim—the Bab al-Mandab—are divided into two channels by the island: the Small Strait—between Perim and North Yemen—which is 1.7 miles wide, with a maximum depth of 96 feet; the western or Large Strait, between Perim and the African coast, is 10.4 miles wide, with a depth of 1,611 feet. There are numerous shoals in these waters, and some difficult currents. Perim, formerly a coaling station for Great Britain, has been a part of South Yemen since 1967.
North Yemen, whose only important port is Hudaydah, is an extremely weak country politically and economically, though it is bolstered by Saudi Arabia. South Yemen, with the excellent harbor of Aden, is a traditional enemy of its northern namesake, and is squarely in the Soviet camp. On the other side of the Straits of Perim, Ethiopia, with thousands of Cubans and Soviets inside its borders, is also pro-Soviet. Ethiopia, once staunchly pro-Western during the days of Emperor Haile Selassie, has changed sides, and Somalia, which had previously afforded military facilities to the Soviets, is now leaning in a more Westerly direction. Finally, Djibouti, which gained its independence from France in 1977, remains strongly allied with France. Although Djibouti is a small country (only one-tenth the size of South Yemen), which cannot even provide its own water requirements, much less those of its 3,000- man army, it has an excellent harbor. These generalities must be understood to realize just how unstable this region is, and from which countries the United States and the Soviet Union may or may not anticipate local support. Presently, the U. S. Navy has access to the former Soviet facilities at Berbera, Somalia, facing the
entrance to the Red Sea, and is negotiating for permanent naval facilities to the south, as well as to the north, including Egypt’s Ras Banas.
A naval base along Egypt's or the Sudan's Red Sea coast would, at first, appear to be of interest to the United States, offering a seemingly sheltered central location between the Mediterranean and the Indian Ocean. There are three drawbacks to this area, however. Both Egypt and the Sudan are vulnerable to sudden, volatile political changes, especially to religious fundamentalism, which has expressed vehement anti-American views. The United States could find itself forced out of either country as unexpectedly as it was out of Iran. Another factor involves limited maneuverability for large ships along the shores of Egypt and the Sudan because of a network of islands stretching for hundreds of miles. Finally, should an “enemy” close the southern entrance to the Red Sea, U. S. naval forces based in the Red Sea would, at best, be incapable of gaining access to the Indian Ocean.
A more favorable strategically situated port from the U. S. Navy’s viewpoint is Djibouti. And France has announced plans to extend and modernize its naval facilities there. In an interview in the October 1980 Agence France Presse News Bulletin, however, Djibouti's President Hassan Gouled said:
“International rivalry in the Red Sea and the Bab al-Mandab is the cause of the dangers threatening this region of the world . . . That is why Djibouti refuses to accord
military facilities to the United States, and calls for the foreign powers not to interfere in the internal affairs of the countries of this region.”
Although it is understandable that a country such as Djibouti wants to avoid military commitments to. and domination by, a major world power, it is also imperative that the United States be in a position to support international peace in this region: Djibouti, with a population of 350,000, is hardly in a position to do so.
South Yemen and Ethiopia, on the other hand, are in positions to close the Red Sea to all shipping. Obviously, such a narrow channel of navigation could be mined easily or patrolled rather effectively by a few armed naval craft. Even something as simple as a gun emplacement or missile battery on Perim could disrupt shipping in and out of the Red Sea.
T he problem then is, how does one cope with such a threat? For example, if the politicians in South Yemen decided to close the entrance to the Red Sea to all shipping servicing North Yemen, with whom South Yemen has been fighting for centuries, what would happen? Saudi Arabia is North Yemen's ally, while the Soviet Union is South Yemen’s ally. The United States, of course, is Saudi Arabia’s ally. Such an incident is hardly likely, but when emotions enter into warfare or politics anything can happen. What happens if a religious fundamentalist gets behind a gun on Perim and opens fire on a U. S. frigate sailing through these waters? The captain of that ship would have the right to return fire to protect his men and his flag. Or what if Ethiopia or South Yemen threatened shipping destined for Djibouti? The French then would be involved, and the Soviets would likely also be drawn into the equation. Or what if one of the littoral states in the vicinity of Perim simply wanted to threaten another nation by stating that it would close the Red Sea? These are just a few of the possibilities.
But let us turn from hypotheses to historical fact. In August 1981, the U. S. Navy shot down two Libyan fighters, at a time when Colonel Qad- dafi of Libya was signing a treaty of friendship and cooperation with Ethiopia’s Mengitsu Haile Mariam and South Yemen’s Ali Nasir Muhammad Al-Hassani. One of the first comments by the signatories of this pact was that they might close the Straits of Perim in retaliation. Fortunately for the West, the threat was not backed by action.
But one does not have to go back far to see what might have happened. Such a threat was made to the north at the Straits of Tiran, which control the entrance to the Gulf of Aqaba, bordered by Egypt, Israel, Jordan, and Saudi Arabia. In 1956, just before war broke out between Israel and Egypt, Egypt’s Colonel Nasser closed all shipping to Israel through the Suez Canal and the Straits of Tiran. The International Convention of 1888 provided that “the Suez Maritime Canal shall be free and open, in time of war as in time of peace, to every vessel of commerce or of war, without distinction of flag.” Naturally, in time of war a nation is not going to keep a major canal open to enemy shipping. Unfortunately for Israel, when the Straits of Tiran were also closed to any ship wishing to proceed to Eilath, the Israeli port in the Gulf of Aqaba, nearly half of that country’s supplies —including oil—were threatened. Of course, war ensued for that and other reasons. Before the 1956 war broke out, nearly 20 nations stated that the Straits of Tiran and all international waterways must be kept open, but when it came time to act, after Colonel Nasser had closed the Straits, only four nations remained behind their original pronouncement, and they did nothing.
On 22 May 1967, President Nasser again announced his intention of blockading the Straits of Tiran. On 23 May, Israel’s Prime Minister, Levi Eshkol, declared in parliament: “The Knesset knows that any interference with freedom of shipping in the Gulf [of Aqaba] and the Straits [of Tiran] constitutes a flagrant violation of international law. ... It constitutes an act of aggression against Israel.” Aqaba was a veritable lifeline for Israel. On the same day, President Lyndon Johnson said, “The United States considers the Gulf [of Aqaba] to be an international waterway and feels that a blockade of Israeli shipping is illegal and potentially disastrous to the cause of peace. The right of free, innocent passage of the international waterway is a vital interest of the international community.” But the United States did not send in ships, and war broke out on 5 June.
If South Yemen, as Moscow’s surrogate, wishes to close the Red Sea entrance at Perim, if only to shipping intended for one or two nations, such as Israel or Egypt, war no doubt could erupt without warning. Israeli intolerance of such violations of international law is well recorded in recent history. It is not clear what the United States would do in the event that its flag were barred from this waterway.
It is in the best interests of every nation to support the United Nations- sponsored Law of the Sea which the United States has not yet signed. This international treaty is not enough, however, although it does provide the necessary legal basis for condemning unilateral closure of an international waterway. But long-term economic sanctions, for instance, which might result from such a condemnation, are no answer for crises which require immediate resolution. Swift actions—within a matter of days at the most—must sometimes be taken, if hostilities are to be avoided. Warning nations not to break the law—international maritime law, in this case—is not enough. The resolve, the strength, and the tactical plans must be ready before a flare-up occurs.
The United States has not warned the countries surrounding the Straits of Perim that it will not tolerate threats or acts to close the Red Sea. The United States must do so. The United States must develop plans to act quickly in concert with other world naval powers to meet such a contingency.
Dr. Scham received a Ph.D. in French Colonial History from Durham University in England. He is writing a book about the French in Africa.
The Brazilian Naval Modernization Program
By Eduardo Italo Pesce
The Brazilian Navy’s shipbuilding program for the 1980s has received presidential approval, indicating that the naval modernization effort will proceed, regardless of inflation and the price of oil imports in Brazil. So far, a new training ship based on the Vosper-Thornycroft Mk-10 Niterdi- class frigate design has been ordered; four of 12 locally designed corvettes and one of three submarines of German design have been authorized for construction in Rio de Janeiro. Additional ships—including a new carrier of unspecified type—will be ordered later in the decade.
Brazil has the second largest merchant shipbuilding industry in the world, and many of its commercial shipyards can also build naval auxiliaries and small combatants. Major warships can be built at the Rio de Janeiro Navy Yard, and the Bureau of Naval Engineering is developing a local naval ship design capability.
The Brazilian Navy’s main task is the protection of shipping lanes, reflecting the role it played in the Battle of the Atlantic during World War II. This mission has led to an emphasis in antisubmarine warfare (ASW), while antiair warfare (AAW), antisurface warfare (ASUW), and projection of naval power ashore have received less attention.
The present fleet composition is suited to a classical “escort” role, with an ASW carrier, ASW and general purpose frigates, and World War II-vintage destroyers, as well as submarines, mine warfare ships, and auxiliaries. Concentration in convoy and ASW tactics was encouraged by the now-defunct U. S. Naval Mission after the war, the only exception being the development of a modest amphibious lift capability. The current modernization program will help to correct some deficiencies of equipment, but the basic mission remains the same.
In a likely war scenario, submarines would still present the primary threat to South Atlantic sea-lanes, on which most of the Middle East oil supplies pass. However, in another Battle of the Atlantic, cruise missiles—not torpedoes—would be the main antiship weapons, rendering classical convoy tactics obsolete.
Against the threat of antiship cruise