“What is the problem?”—Foch
AFTER THE clear-cut victories scored in the Coral Sea, near Midway, and repeatedly off the Solomon Islands, any discussion of unsolved problems or needed improvements might seem to be gratuitous fault-finding. And so it would, if our ships had faced their severest test; but even our campaign in the Solomons may be more accurately described as a holding operation. In the all-out offensives which must be carried through to win this war, our ships will face more severe attacks for longer periods, and those periods will have to be survived again and again. Under such intensified and prolonged stress, defects which now appear minor might prove fatal. Consequently, an analysis of all factors which, so far, have hampered the operations of our Navy is clearly in order
This discussion should not stop after reviewing these hampering conditions, and the steps necessary to reverse them; but should go on to discover the attitudes and tendencies through which this unfavorable situation was allowed to develop. A positive policy can then be formulated, one which should preclude not only the repetition of past mistakes but also the initiation of a series of new but related errors, not yet recognizable as such. Furthermore, that policy must be translated into terms of weapons, ships, and fleets which can function in the face of every form of attack which a resolute and resourceful enemy can throw against them. Finally, the practicability and scope of that policy should be tested by noting whether or not it would have prevented other mistakes not previously considered.
1 This paper is based upon only such information as has been released to the general public. It may, there-fore, advocate measures already completed or now under way. With this reservation it is submitted as a possible short-cut through the labyrinth ahead.
Errors of the past are usually regarded as water over the dam, and which had better be forgotten; but, if there is any possibility that a review of those mistakes might lead either to a shorter war or to fewer casualties, no trivial emotion should stand in the way. What, then, has chiefly hampered the free exercise of our sea power?
The answer is the vulnerability to air attack of all types of surface vessels. This has made some classes of naval operations very costly, and others utterly impracticable. The rapidly-growing range, number, and striking power of shore-based planes indicates, moreover, that this hampering effect may be felt with mounting intensity over ever widening areas of the sea. Is this trend to continue until surface fleets can venture out only under the continuous protection of fighter planes or for brief forays in thick weather?
If so, the network of air bases which Japan has taken and developed in the Western Pacific affords her a growing source of strength in that it enables her quickly to shift shore-based air forces to meet our offensive thrusts. This means that the farther our offensives proceed, the more nearly they will face the conditions which compelled the Japanese to turn back in the Coral Sea, at Midway, and off the Solomons.
The purpose here is not to revive the outgrown ships-versus-planes controversy, but to point out that the present vulnerability of surface vessels to air attack cripples us more than our enemies. This is so because their sea-borne communications lie almost wholly within a network of strong air bases, and because they have only to consolidate their conquests to score a tremendous victory; whereas we can win the war only through a long series of difficult offensives. In them, the continual attacks of shore-based planes must be faced not only by our warships but also by fleet auxiliaries, transports, and freighters. Cargo planes, however valuable they are for special purposes, offer only a partial solution to our staggering problem of transportation, for most of the vast stream of men and material to be sent overseas can be carried only in surface ships. Their vulnerability to air attack must, consequently, be remedied if our continued offensives are not to be dangerously costly, and if final victory is not to leave us utterly exhausted.
Under these circumstances it has been shocking to note radio commentators, editors, columnists, and magazine writers jubilantly proclaiming the death of the battleship, as if that were the best possible news. If that were really true, the cruiser, the destroyer, the aircraft carrier, the transport, the cargo vessel, and all other surface craft would also be finished; for the battleship is the least vulnerable of the lot. If all these were dead, with them would be buried our hopes of victory.
These same writers and speakers have also repeatedly announced that only a continuous umbrella of fighter planes will ever again enable any fleet to venture within range of enemy aircraft. Unfortunately they are right, so long as present conditions are allowed to continue; but they forget the words of Mark Twain. “We should be careful,” he wrote, “to get out of an experience only the wisdom that is in it—and stop there; lest we be like the cat that sits down on the hot stove lid. She will never sit down on a hot stove lid again—and that is well; but also she will never sit down on a cold one any more.” Like the cat, these commentators fail to realize that effective measures can be taken to cool the present admittedly hot situation, and that any attempt to base fixed conclusions on rapidly shifting conditions is likely to leave them out on a limb.
That is precisely where they have been left on at least two occasions this past year. They had, for example, just got through explaining to us how an army with inferior tanks was hopelessly handicapped, when the Japanese won smashing victories in Malaya and Burma with fewer and weaker tanks. These publicists had also vociferously reiterated that an army without air superiority could expect nothing but defeat; then Rommel scored his most dramatic African victory, despite a marked inferiority in the air. These examples constitute no denial of the importance of superiority either in tanks or in aircraft; but they do indicate that no statement need be regarded as coming straight from Mount Sinai, simply because it is insistently proclaimed in print and over the air.
The first step in a realistic approach to our problems is, therefore, to clear our minds by scrapping all the fixed rules laid down by those whose haste has led them into the error of over-simplification. The next step is to look back and see how we got where we are.
No man has to look long to see that the basic factor in producing the present disadvantageous vulnerability of surface vessels to air attack was the unbalanced program of research and development during the years of peace. Until 1939 our Navy, like others, devoted incomparably less time, thought, and material to the production of effective anti-aircraft batteries than to the improvement of the airplane. Although the energetic and skillful efforts of the past three years have done much to restore the balance between aircraft and anti-aircraft strength, the record shows that the inevitable price for those 20 years of one-sided development is still being exacted.
Battle experience also indicates that the extent of the changes required to fit warships for facing air attacks was only dimly realized in any navy before 1939. For example, pre-war designs failed to provide enough anti-aircraft guns, especially of the type required to deal with dive bombers and torpedo planes. Even these inadequate batteries had unnecessarily restricted arcs of fire and were usually mounted in the open with their crews and supplies of ready ammunition pitifully exposed to the greatly multiplied hazards of modern battle. These new hazards, moreover, called for changes in the protection of the hull, both above and below the waterline. Furthermore, the need for special protection for the propellers and rudder was ignored until the dramatic disablement of the Bismarck and the Prince of Wales brought it unforgettably to attention. Finally, hindsight discloses a lamentable Slowness in realizing that even the foregoing changes were not enough; that air attack was getting so far ahead of the defense as to necessitate special defensive types for the protection of outstandingly vulnerable ships, such as aircraft carriers, transports, and cargo vessels. In other words, the need for large numbers of antiaircraft cruisers and corvettes was not recognized until almost too late.
In justice to those responsible for our warship designs, it should be added that these mistakes were common to all navies; in fact, our technical experts were in many respects more alert to the need for changes than were our enemies. The significant fact, however, is not that these mistakes can be excused, but that they can be remedied; some in new designs, and others through alterations effected during the repair periods of our existing warships. More anti-aircraft guns can be mounted; all guns of both types can be grouped in turrets or gun houses; arcs of fire can be widened by improved locations, and by reductions in superstructure; thin armor can be added to the hull; and future ships can be built with tunnel sterns, whenever their size and designed speed permit it. In short, the vulnerability of existing types of warships to air attack can easily be halved, and the volume of their anti-aircraft gunfire can be more than doubled; while the improvements possible by building special defensive units, and through an intensive program of research and development, are limitless.
The fortunate aspect of these hampering conditions is not only that they can be reversed but also that no other navy is so well fitted to reverse them quickly.
The reversal of these conditions, although absolutely necessary, is only a negative and temporary measure; it is like treating the symptoms of a disease, when the basic need is to discover and eliminate the cause. That should prevent both future attacks of the same malady, and the development of other, yet related, ills which are not yet sufficiently far advanced to be diagnosed.
A key to these underlying causes is to be found in the naval literature of the past 30 years. Anyone who has read it must have detected a chronic peace-time tendency which paved the way for most of our recent losses. It was a distinct aversion to all defensive weapons and measures, apparently because of the idea that all thought and effort should be concentrated on the offensive. The motive was admirable, but the results were disastrous.
A further example of the practical results may be seen in the staggering losses inflicted by enemy submarines during the past year. The mistake of being so easily satisfied with the defensive measures developed in 1917-18 is now clear. Those sinkings have hampered naval operations, limited the flow of men and supplies overseas, and reduced imports of needed raw materials. Furthermore, the repair of vessels damaged by submarines has imposed an additional burden on our already overtaxed shipyards. Finally, the necessary anti-submarine campaign has required numbers of men, weapons, and small craft far greater than the enemy forces employed against us. In a word, the consequences of our failure to improve our defenses against the submarine have, so far, been even worse than the results of our failure to develop adequate defenses against air attack. The airplane, however, is still listed as the greater menace, because our lack of anti-aircraft strength will be felt more keenly when we undertake an all-out offensive. Other examples might be cited, but the foregoing probably illustrates sufficiently the terrible price paid for our chronic aversion to anything bearing the label defensive.
The cause of this tragic aversion may have been a failure to recognize the place of defensive weapons and measures in offensive strategy. At any rate, such a hypothesis is supported by the fact that our experts had no trouble in realizing that the big gun and the aircraft carrier were offensive weapons, and that our interests demanded their maximum development. It is no accident that our Navy has the most powerfully gunned battleships afloat; or that it has led the world in developing the aircraft carrier, the dive bomber, and the torpedo plane. Nor was American leadership in closing the gap in performance between carrier-based and land-based planes mere luck. All this was excellent; the trouble came through the failure to perceive, or at least to act upon, the fact that defensive weapons and measures were equally important to offensive strategy. This importance rested upon three factors.
In the first place, if we expected to drive through a sustained offensive against a capable and well-armed enemy, we clearly needed an adequate counter to every weapon which he might employ on the defensive; otherwise our offensive was bound to bog down through excessive casualties. In order to be sure of having adequate counters, we first had to know the maximum potentialities of each weapon; and we could not know this until we had actually possessed and tested the world’s best weapons, defensive as well as offensive.
In the second place, our unfortunate lack of interest in defensive weapons meant that we might be caught temporarily with no counter whatever either to some new weapon or to some sweeping improvement in an old weapon. We could avoid such jeopardy only by being the first to produce the new or improved weapon. Then we could also be the first to start work on a defense against it.
In the third place, we had to lead in developing defensive weapons, because we could seldom expect to take and keep the offensive at all points simultaneously. Before we could concentrate the forces necessary for a successful offensive at the critical spot, we would usually have to drop back to the defensive at other places. Consequently, the more effective our defensive weapons and measures were, the fewer men and the less material we would require for our defense, and the more we could concentrate for the offensive.
In a word, the ability to sustain the offensive depended, and still depends, just as much upon the intensive development of defensive strength as upon that of offensive strength. The Navy was absolutely right in aiming at the offensive, but this war has shown that the efforts to develop the material for executing it were regrettably one-sided.
As an example of what might have been accomplished by a balanced program, suppose that from 1919 on, just as good men and just as much research had been devoted to the development of anti-aircraft guns and instruments as actually were devoted to the development of the airplane. Suppose also that the Navy had made a distinct specialty of anti-aircraft gunnery, established a school, and trained officers in this new branch of gunnery just as carefully as it trained pilots. Finally, suppose that the changes in warship design now recognized as necessary had been made in peace time; and that anti-aircraft cruisers and corvettes had been laid down in quantity not later than 1936. Would not these measures have changed the whole aspect of this war?
Many of these things were not done because the necessary appropriations could not be obtained. The allocation of blame, however, is unimportant; all that matters now is a clear recognition of the potentialities of defensive development.
As a further example of those potentialities, suppose that about twenty years ago the Navy had done these things:
(1) Assigned adequate research facilities and personnel to the development of anti-submarine weapons and equipment.
(2) Established an anti-submarine school for the testing of material, the improvement of tactics, and the training of personnel.
(3) Made a distinct specialty of anti-submarine operations in order to obtain the concentrated and continuous efforts necessary for sustained and integrated progress, and in order to develop a nucleus of real experts in these vital operations.
(4) Built one of each of various types of anti-submarine craft every few years in order to have modern and thoroughly-tested designs always on hand ready to put into quantity production, and in order to give boat yards needed experience in such construction.
When some of these measures were belatedly taken, their outstanding value was an indication of what might have been accomplished if all of them could have been pushed consistently during the two decades of peace.
The foregoing will perhaps illustrate sufficiently the possibilities of a balanced program of research and development, one which would insure world leadership in all kinds of war material, defensive as well as offensive. Although further complication of our war effort is in general undesirable, this new need for widely expanded and intensified research is too fundamental to be ignored.
Such a program, moreover, is to our advantage in that the United States is better fitted to execute it than any other nation. Aside from our unequaled number of college graduates, we have received as exiles some of the best minds of Europe. Furthermore, the gratifying results achieved through research in aviation indicates that this advantage is not merely theoretical; and that corresponding attention to other weapons and to measures of defense should prove equally successful. When the Germans demonstrated so strikingly the tremendous importance of superior material, they then and there pointed out one of the means by which we can most quickly defeat them and their allies.
In view of our unique potentialities for research, why not carry this development policy a step farther? Instead of aiming merely at a reasonable superiority over all our enemies in every kind of weapon, and in every form of defense, why not aim at the maximum attainable development of each, so as to achieve an overwhelming superiority? In other words, if we are out to win a total war, why not deliberately adopt a policy of total development of offensive and defensive strength, so as to be able to deliver a rapid series of crushing blows and win that war as quickly as possible? Is not that what we really want to do?
War at sea is actually better suited than is war on land to this swiftly decisive type of campaign; partly because a fleet has far greater strategic mobility than an army, and partly because the obstacles in naval warfare can be more accurately weighed in advance. Another irony of the present situation is that the originators of the lightning campaign on land temporarily lack the resources for executing it at sea, whereas we are supremely endowed with those resources. Even more fortunate is the fact that the conquests of our enemies, especially the Japanese, have spread their forces over so wide an area as to make them excellent targets for a Blitzkrieg zur See.
Our advantage, however, hinges upon the time element; for if our enemies are allowed to consolidate and reorganize their conquests, they can greatly increase their output of war material. The crucial importance of time is further accentuated by the need for rescuing the conquered peoples before they are starved to death. Finally, the stupendous cost of this war and the probable scope of the demand for help upon its conclusion require intensified efforts to win it quickly. In short, whether or not anyone believes in the practicability of a blitz at sea, he cannot deny the extreme urgency of producing material which will permit the utmost acceleration of the campaign. The possibilities of this policy of total development therefore merit unusually thoughtful consideration.
All this does not mean that nothing can be done until an entirely new fleet is built; on the contrary, the proposed policy merely indicates the objectives for new designs, and for alterations during repair periods of existing warships. Meanwhile the war goes on utilizing the new material as it becomes available.
The proposed policy can be illustrated by applying it to our oldest weapon, the gun. The only vessel in which such development is possible is the battleship. This type, accordingly, should mount the most powerful guns which can be built, and the largest number of them which can be effectively grouped on a single hull. Total development of defensive strength demands, moreover, that each battleship should be as nearly unsinkable as possible. It cannot be impregnable; but it can have enough armor to engage advantageously any rival at any range, and under any conditions; and it can have the protection and the defensive batteries needed to keep it in action in the face of every known form of attack. This policy clearly precludes the sacrifice of gun power for the sake of a high designed speed. Would not such a vessel be worth far more in a sustained offensive than one of the speedy hit-and-run type, of which pre-war designers were so fond? It would undeniably have been worth more at Jutland. Furthermore, the Hood-Bismarck and the Bismarck-Rodney duels of 1940 indicated that victory is still likely to go to the most powerful combination of guns and armor.
Although floating gun platforms or battleships have not yet been tested in a fleet engagement in this war, flying gun platforms or fighter planes have been tested so exhaustively that their design is no longer debatable. Consequently, the soundness of this policy may be further checked by applying it to them. If it had been in force this past ten years, would 1939 have found us building pursuit ships inferior in fire power and protection to those of our rivals?
The policy may also be illustrated by applying it to the torpedo. This weapon can be carried by the destroyer in the numbers required for annihilating attacks, only if all other characteristics are subordinated to the torpedo armament. Far from being accentuated, torpedoes were actually subordinated to both guns and designed speed in the destroyer designs of all navies. This weapon was so nearly forgotten that its true effectiveness, as recently demonstrated by torpedo planes, came as something of a surprise.
As an example of the possibilities of a real surface torpedo carrier, suppose that our brilliantly handled destroyers in the Straits of Macassar had carried three or four times as many torpedoes as they actually did. Might they not have wiped out that Japanese convoy, instead of merely crippling it? If the major aim is to win a total war, should not the battle aim of our flotillas be to hit their targets with so many torpedoes as to destroy them utterly and instantly? If so, fundamental changes in design are needed.
Total development of the torpedo also calls for maximum use of torpedo planes and motor torpedo boats. If such a policy had been in effect this past ten years, would not the need for more aircraft carriers and the unique possibilities of the motor torpedo boat have been realized more promptly?
Even in the development of defensive weapons and measures, our aim should be total. For example, instead of remaining content with what seemed to be fairly effective anti-submarine measures, the aim should have been to deliver such deadly attacks as to compel our enemies to abandon the use of submarines. Even if not wholly achieved, this total aim would have precluded those 20 years of peace-time coasting along with anti-submarine defenses which we now realize were pathetically inadequate. "In the long run," wrote Thoreau, "men hit only what they aim at. Therefore, though they should fail immediately, they had better aim at something high."
Our whole trouble boils down to this: Instead of aiming at the bull's-eye of a swiftly successful offensive campaign, we were aiming at only the right half of the target, striking power, and largely ignoring the left half, resisting power or defensive strength. Furthermore, we were aiming too low—at a reasonable superiority instead of at an overwhelming superiority. When we were off in both elevation and deflection, the wonder is that our score has, nevertheless, been better than that of our enemies. This may be ascribed to two causes: they made the same or worse mistakes, and their fighting men proved to be inferior to ours.
Continued reliance upon the superior quality of our operating personnel, however, imposes an unnecessary burden upon brave men. Justice to them and a realistic view of the difficulties of future campaigns demand that they be given ships which are better fitted to cope with modern conditions.
The insufficiency of our defenses against aircraft may also be traced back to inadequate aims. Instead of jogging along with what seemed to be a reasonable defense against air attack, the aim should have been the delivery of so withering a blast of anti-aircraft gunfire from our fleet that only the boldest of enemy pilots would dare approach it.
This aim is not so visionary as one might think. After all, it is far simpler than the objective achieved by the German General Staff when they succeeded in reversing the conditions which had made the offensive all but disastrous in 1914-17. This reversal was so complete that they were able in 1939-40 to execute the most swiftly successful offensives in military history.
The vessels sunk by the different forms of air attack point unmistakably to the weak spots in present defenses. To begin with, dive bombers and torpedo planes have caused most of our losses. Both types of planes attack at such short range that their destruction is merely a matter of mounting enough guns of the right sort in the right places, and of manning them with specially trained crews. Even against the inadequate batteries of today, losses have been heavy only when the attacks of both types of planes were synchronized; in other words, when there were not enough guns to cope with both forms of attack simultaneously.
War experience has also shown that the menace of the high level bomber is not alarming for ships of high maneuverability, reasonable speed, stout protection, and plenty of 5-inch guns. Means by which the battle effectiveness of these guns, and of the ships on which they are mounted, can be improved, have already been discussed.
The outstanding unsolved problem is the defense of aircraft carriers. Excessive losses in such craft by all navies indicate not only the urgency of the problem but also the futility of copying the solutions tried in other fleets. This urgency is rendered acute by the fact that there can be no sustained offensive until an adequate solution is provided. The problem is one of supplying not only greater anti-aircraft strength but also an intensified antisubmarine screen, and of doing it with a minimum expenditure of men and tonnage.
Fortunately the large increase in the number of carriers and other craft which should soon be available for major missions, renders possible an epoch-making change—one which enables the anti-aircraft strength and the anti-submarine screens of the entire fleet to be employed most effectively in defense of the carriers during the crucial phase of the air battle, and until a definite mastery of the air is achieved. This air battle will normally be fought out while the opposing fleet is at such distance that our formation need be based upon countering attacks by only aircraft and submarines. In addition, a special carrier guard of anti-aircraft cruisers and corvettes is provided. This guard always remains with the carriers and takes over their defense after the main body has deployed for battle. By that time the hostile air force should be capable of only sporadic attacks which can easily be countered by the reduced force.
All this is to be accomplished by adopting the protected area system of guarding carriers. This system was clearly impracticable when only two or three carriers were operating together. The protected area resembles an elongated race track, around which the carriers steam. The anti-aircraft cruisers afford overhead protection from their positions inside the “track,” while the corvettes are disposed primarily as an anti-submarine screen, and secondarily as a defense against dive bombers and torpedo planes.
During a fleet engagement it may be advisable to keep this protected area fairly close to the unengaged beam of the battle line. In order to enable the carriers to steam directly into the wind while the whole protected area is advancing parallel to, and at the same speed as, the battleships, the shape and direction of the “track” must be changed to conform with varying directions of the wind. On the opposite page are diagrams which illustrate the changes when the wind is ahead, abeam, or astern, relative to the course of the main body and the protected area. The battle line is assumed to be off the page to the right, with the enemy’s fleet still farther in the same direction. The whole area is moving toward the top of the page at 18 knots, while the carriers are circling the “track” at 30 knots. In all cases the flying lane is laid out to permit the carriers to steam directly into the wind for 20 uninterrupted minutes.
The one disadvantage of this system is immediately apparent—the restrictions imposed on the movements of carriers. As may be seen from the diagrams, the carriers can fly planes on or off 67 per cent of the time when the wind is ahead, 30 per cent when it is abeam, and 19 per cent when it is astern, relative to the course of the main body and the protected area. In the latter two cases this disadvantage is so serious that it might condemn the plan, if it were necessary to employ either of them during the crucial phase of the air battle. Fortunately, the question of mastery of the air will usually be decided while the opposing fleets are at such distance that our entire fleet can be headed directly into the wind to permit the employment of Case 1 until the hostile carriers and airdromes have been put out of action. Our carriers can then be employed with maximum efficiency. The principles of economy of force and of concentration demand the employment of an approach formation which will enable every antiaircraft gun to be employed with maximum effect during the crucial phase of the air battle. We know that upon those carriers is based the only striking force we can employ during most of the approach, and that this same striking force will profoundly influence the course of the subsequent fleet engagement. When the protection of those carriers is vital to the success of the campaign, can any system which adds so tremendously to their safety be condemned, merely because it is more complicated than the present escort system?
Aside from the superior defense afforded the carriers and all other surface vessels by this concentration, the resultant hurricane of anti-aircraft gunfire will free our own fighter planes from any defensive responsibility for surface vessels and enable our whole force of fighters to accompany our torpedo planes and dive bombers on offensive missions. In other words, this system adds to offensive strength as well as to defensive strength.
If, at any time, the relative direction of the wind imposes too much of a handicap upon the operation of our carriers, the protected area can be left far astern and headed in a more favorable direction. The chief disadvantage of lengthening the distance to the main body is that the carriers and their guard may not be able to rejoin before dark, and it would manifestly be desirable to put the carriers in the center of the fleet formation where they could be afforded maximum protection during the night.
The second great advantage of the protected area system of guarding carriers is that it permits sharp cuts in the designed speeds of anti-aircraft cruisers and corvettes. These reductions are possible because the speeds of the carrier guard are based upon that of the battle line, rather than that of the carriers. For example, suppose that we have 21-knot battleships, an 18-knot battle speed for the fleet as a whole, and a 30-knot battle speed for the carriers. Suppose also that we allow the anti-aircraft cruisers a 20 per cent margin of speed relative to the battle line in the protected area system, and relative to the carriers in the individual escort system. This margin would enable the protected area to be moved relative to the battle line, or the cruisers to move relative to the carriers, whenever a shift in wind or a change in course by the battleships or the carriers necessitates such a move. The following table then represents the comparative speeds required for the individual escort system and the proposed protected area system.
The lower designed speeds permitted by the protected area system with the resultant saving in men and tonnage for each unit should result in from 60 per cent to 100 per cent more units of each type from any given allowance of men and tonnage. Furthermore, the concentration of all carrier guards in a limited area should more than double their effectiveness. A threefold or fourfold increase in the carrier’s defense against aircraft and submarines is not to be lightly dismissed. Incidentally, the defense against dive bombers and torpedo planes could be improved an additional 50 per cent or more, if the corvettes were armed with small automatic guns instead of with 3-inch or 4-inch guns.
The foregoing increases, moreover, apply to the least favorable period when the carrier guard is on its own, and when only desultory attacks may be expected. During the approach, when the heavy attacks may be expected, this protected area is kept in the center of the fleet formation and given from 10 to 20 times as effective a defense as any carriers have yet received. Here, then, is real protection for the Achilles’ heel of our present system of waging offensive war.
There are also two minor advantages. One is the reduced risk of collision, due to the use of a clearly defined “track” with one-way traffic for the carriers. The other is that the units of the carrier guard will have improved chances of survival, resulting from their presenting smaller targets of higher maneuverability.
Suppose, then, that the fleet is armed With enough small automatic guns to put up impenetrable barrages against dive bombers and torpedo planes; that the number of 5-inch guns is doubled; that the arcs of fire of both types of guns are widened; that the vulnerability of existing classes of warships is halved; that an adequate defense is provided for aircraft carriers; and that building programs make available not only the needed defensive vessels but also the additional numbers in other types of warships, so as to permit the concentration of overwhelming force at the decisive spot. In addition, great and varied improvements might be expected from the intensified and balanced program of research and development; but, since they cannot be gauged in advance, they are excluded from our calculations. Nevertheless, when the foregoing things have been done, and when these tremendous forces are guided with the skill resulting only from continued experience in actual war, enemy aircraft will face a blast of gunfire incomparably more deadly than any they have ever before encountered over either land or sea. Then our fleet air force can forget its hampering tasks of defense, and concentrate on its proper tasks of offense; then our fleet will be able to go where it wants to go, and to do what it wants to do; and then our sea power will begin to function with an effectiveness unapproached in history.
Most significant of all, our fleet will be able to keep driving in so as eventually to force a decisive battle upon the enemy. The offensive thrusts of the Japanese in the Coral Sea, at Midway, and off the Solomons were repeatedly turned back, because they lacked the anti-aircraft strength to withstand our preliminary air attacks. Such retreat is practicable up to the point at which it involves the sacrifice of something which they feel they cannot afford to lose. Then they are compelled to throw in everything they have left in a final effort to halt our fleet. They will have to do this, even though they have meanwhile lost most of their air force. Then will come the decisive fleet engagement, despite repeated announcements to the contrary. Can any thinking man seriously believe that as resolute and as desperate an enemy as the Japanese would yield a vital point without putting in their last ship and their last man?
Perhaps the outstanding lesson to be drawn from the battles in the Pacific is that the speed of aircraft is so incomparably greater than that of surface vessels, that the difference in mobility between the fastest and the slowest warship is strategically insignificant; whereas the improvements in anti-aircraft strength which can be effected by drastically reducing the designed speeds of all units of the fleet are absolutely vital to its future usefulness.
The building of warships for most tasks requiring extreme speed represents a wasteful duplication of effort, for we know that those things can be done more efficiently by aircraft. The missions for which surface vessels are superior to aircraft are, in general, those which require sustained striking power and sustained mobility. If we believe that our air and surface forces should complement, rather than compete with, one another, should not our warships be designed for only those tasks at which they excel aircraft? If so, emphasis in warship designs should be transferred from speed to striking and resisting power. Now we firmly believe in the co-ordination of air and surface forces. Should not this eminently sound principle apply in the sphere of design as well as of command?
A final problem is the speedy repair of damaged vessels. In a sustained offensive our forces in the zone of operations must expect almost incessant air attacks. The resultant frequency of casualties and the enormous distances to our main bases demand that repairs be made on the spot whenever possible. Although our Navy is to be congratulated on having had the foresight to develop fleet repair facilities to an extent probably unapproached in any other navy, the seriousness of the problem suggests an additional step.
Could not a floating, self-propelled dry dock be developed? Very little power would be needed to drive one faster than it could be towed. The ending of all trouble with tow lines would be a distinct advantage. The power plant, moreover, could be used to pump out the dock. Furthermore, the absence of masts, aerials, and bridges would permit unequaled arcs of fire for anti-aircraft batteries. If enough guns were mounted, such a dock would be a genuine addition to the anti-aircraft defenses of an advanced base, and so could be kept much closer to the zone of operations than an ordinary floating dock.
One interesting possibility of this proposed dock is that of going out to meet badly damaged ships and of docking them at sea. This would now be practicable only under ideal conditions; but as experience was gained, material and methods could be improved, so that conditions would not have to be ideal. Even if some damage resulted to both the ship and the dock that would still be preferable to letting the ship sink. In any case, a self-propelled dry dock with enough anti-aircraft guns to permit its remaining close to the scene of action would offer much the same advantages which the proximity of repair shops offers to armored and motorized divisions in land warfare.
The steps preliminary to the waging of a swiftly successful campaign may be summarized: First, provide sufficient anti-aircraft strength to permit the untrammelled movement of a fleet of, for example, a dozen battleships, a dozen aircraft carriers, and corresponding numbers of cruisers, destroyers, and other craft. Next, see that those ships have that overwhelming superiority in striking and resisting power which is necessary to annihilate the opposing fleet. Then make sure that our ships carry enough ammunition to stand up to all the air attacks which can be thrown against them for a week, besides fighting a full dress naval battle at any time during that week. Finally, improve their mobile repair facilities by developing floating self-propelled dry docks with powerful antiaircraft batteries. The potentialities of such a fleet would open a new chapter in the history of naval warfare.
It could, for example, move into an enemy area, bombard all shore installations within reach of its guns, and use its air force to destroy those beyond gun range. Furthermore, it could do this without first establishing near-by air bases on shore. In other words, it would eliminate the necessity for an island-by-island advance. The strategic short cuts made possible by such freedom of movement will bear some thought.
Or, if used for the seizure of an advanced base, such a fleet can cover a landing with a far greater volume of supporting gunfire, and then afford an invaluable sustained support afterward. Instead of scurrying immediately back beyond range of air attack, this fleet can remain in the area to lend aircraft and anti-aircraft support until air fields have been repaired and antiaircraft batteries have been established ashore, until all desired reinforcements and supplies have been landed, and until an adequate force of motor torpedo boats with their base facilities have been moved in.
In view of many recent sarcastic references to battleships, it may be worth while to point out that during the crucial approach phase when mastery of the air is being decided, a well-designed battleship will add more to the anti-aircraft strength of the fleet than any single vessel of any other type. During the final decisive battle between the surface fleets, the battleship will, as always, contribute more sustained striking power than any other unit. It can still deliver a more devastating bombardment of any shore position within range of its guns. Finally, nothing has been found to take its place for the protection of convoys subject to attack by the enemy's heavy ships.
The battleship has no more been rendered obsolete by the aircraft carrier than it was rendered so by the battle cruiser; in fact, there is a striking parallel between the part played by battle cruisers in World War I and that played by aircraft carriers in World War II. A generation ago the battle cruisers made the contacts and did the fighting in the opening phase, just as the planes of the aircraft carriers have made the contacts and have done the fighting in recent battles which did not get beyond the initial phase. We would have an exact parallel to the present situation if the battle cruiser fleets of World War I had been so lacking in defensive strength as to be unable to complete the first phase. The point is that when an adequate defense has been provided for aircraft carriers and other surface vessels, they will be able to complete the first phase and to bring on the fleet engagement.
The outcome of that engagement will, of course, be decided largely by superiority in the air; for the side which gains such superiority will be able to employ airplane spotting, and to direct air attacks against any desired portion of the opposing fleet, regardless of its position or speed. However, the point missed by most commentators is that air superiority, in turn, depends almost as much upon the antiaircraft strength of the fleet, and the resultant protection afforded our carriers as it does upon the number of our carriers.
All this is no detraction from the value of the aircraft carrier, or the importance of air superiority. The fact that the carrier’s planes have longer striking range than the battleship’s guns does not make the battleship obsolete any more than the fact that the battleship’s guns can strike farther than the cruiser’s guns makes the cruiser obsolete. A well-rounded fleet requires them all. Now the Navy knows, even if its civilian critics do not know, the value of the battleship. The Navy knows also the time required to build one, the difficulty of determining exactly how many of them our enemies are building, and the consequences of a failure to retain superiority in this classification. In view of the rapid remedying of our lack of aircraft carriers by current building programs, should not the next vacant ways be used to resume the building of battleships—tough, hard-hitting units, designed from the keel up to face the severe conditions of today, and the still more severe conditions of tomorrow?
The great Foch used to bring the discussions of his staff to a focus by asking them the question, “What is the problem?” His method brings to light the following:
- The time element in this war is unusually pressing.
- The limiting factors in our war effort are man power and raw materials. The more the Navy’s demands for these are minimized, the more of them will be left for other phases of the war effort, equally essential.
- The Navy’s problem is, therefore, to win its part of the war in the least possible time, and with the minimum expenditure of men and materials.
- The campaign in the Pacific has probably been retarded more by the frequency of casualties than by any other cause.
- Attrition is bound to be far higher when real offensive operations begin. It might become high enough to halt the offensive, unless defenses are improved.
- Obtaining defensive strength at the expense of offensive weapons would reduce the effectiveness of the fleet and prolong the war.
- Improvements in defensive strength through increases either in displacement or in numbers necessitate more men and material, prolong the war, and partially defeat themselves by the resultant loss of maneuverability, and increase in either size or number of targets.
- Consequently, the necessary improvement in defensive strength can be obtained without prolonging the war only by reductions in the designed speeds of all classes of warships.
In view of these conditions the widespread idea that air power has made 21-knot battleships obsolete is hard to account for. The only possible basis for such a belief is the value of a fast battleship for accompanying a task force on a raid. Raids, however, will never win a war; they are merely the closest approach to a true offensive which a weaker navy can make. A dominant navy employs raids only to divert attention from the objectives of its real offensives. Our Navy already has enough fast battleships, built or building, for such purposes. The serious business of winning the war will be done by a slow fleet having the anti-aircraft strength, the anti-submarine strength, the sustained striking power, and the sustained mobility to perform its tasks under modern conditions. Slowness, in itself, is no virtue; but the qualities which can be obtained by sacrificing high designed speeds are essential to any sustained acceleration of our campaigns. Never was such acceleration so desperately needed. If we take too long in winning the war, there may be very few left to celebrate the victory with us.
Here, then, are the steps necessary to check our present severe losses, and to permit the acceleration of our campaigns:
- Modernize our existing warships as rapidly as possible.
- Reduce sinkings and shorten repair periods by building floating, self-propelled dry docks equipped with powerful anti-aircraft batteries.
- Balance and intensify our program of research and development.
- Exploit fully our unequaled capacity for research, and for the rapid production of war material by aiming at an over-whelming superiority in both striking and resisting power.
- Minimize naval requirements for men and material by reducing the designed speed of all future warships to the bare amount necessary to execute their respective functions.
The last three steps constitute a new naval development policy which eliminates the underlying cause of our past mistakes. It thereby not only precludes their repetition but also reduces the likelihood of making future mistakes, not yet recognizable as such. Furthermore, it gives due consideration to the unprecedented demand for lend-lease aid, and for men and material by other branches of the service. In addition, it extends the principle of coordination of surface and air forces from the sphere of command into the equally important sphere of design. It is based, moreover, not on any ready-made and artificial theory of war, but upon the common-sense requirement of producing the kind of warships which actual experience has shown to be necessary for carrying through a vigorous and swiftly moving offensive. Above all, it is based upon the overwhelming importance of the time element. In short, far from being a warmed- over version of the policy of some other navy, this solution is purely American in that it meets our distinctive requirements by exploiting our unique potentialities.