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^ar College Education and the Future
% Admiral Richard G. Colbert,
I' Navy, Commander-in-Chief,
ANied Forces, Southern Europe,
N Former President, Naval ar College
Many influential voices are currently Suestioning the need for war colleges.
a former Naval War College Prcsi- ent. Vice Admiral Richard Conolly, ■ S. Navy, said of a similar questioning t%0 decades ago: ", . . if this situation fallowed to continue uncorrected, the aracter of naval command will deterge, »
ing or planning. The brilliant levements and enduring reputation
Those words have lost none of their Validity, and they apply with equal rele- ^ance to all branches of the Service. Urrent challenges to war colleges de- a mutual recognition of the over- Qlng importance of common interests ^ problems. Now more than ever, the Jtary cannot afford parochialism in
ach;
J °ur sister colleges form a major re- rce of strength now, when we are challenged to justify our exist
Th,
s military lamentably bears the g s of occasional interservice rivalry. lr)Ul tBle War College atmosphere of free pTJ'fy. which will be explored in this ^sional Note, has almost always uninfected by parochial prejudice. ie spirit of untrammeled and un-
conventional thinking is directly in line with the war college tradition. That tradition is based on the need, identified by all Services everywhere, to protect and nurture intellectual vitality. War colleges represent the mind of the body military as clearly as the professional career man represents its heart. They are the national commitment to the ingenuity, imagination, and flexibility of the country’s strategy of defense, in peace and in war.
Napoleon recognized this truth in the establishment of his Ecole de Guerre. Clausewitz envisioned the same role for his Kriegschule, writing his classic, On War, during his years there as administrator. Nelson, too, and his "School of the Sea,” set an enduring common tradition for sailors and strategists for years to come. Trotsky, despairing of revolutionary equalitarianism in the military, ordered the creation of what became the Soviet War College.
And, finally, our own Naval War College, the oldest of its kind in the world, was created largely as a result of professional dissatisfaction with naval operations during the War between the States. It was founded to answer an
urgent requirement for careful analysis of strategic policy in the light of national goals. Comprehensive, sophisticated education of senior officers was clearly understood as essential to superior strategy and its effective execution.
The mandate, moreover, has been fulfilled manyfold in the decades since. A year at a war college has never been considered a sabbatical away from responsibility, either in Newport or in any other war college. The students are dedicated career military officers who look on it as an opportunity to learn, not relax. The formal curriculum provides the focus or beginning, but it is the student’s own will to learn which leads to the end result.
Student imagination and initiative have written the most glorious chapter of the Naval War College’s history. With only a very few exceptions, all of the top naval leaders of World War II were graduates of this institution. The same applies to war college graduates of our sister Services.
It was in Newport, not in Washington or on planning staffs, that many basic and original concepts in maritime
U. S. Naval Institute Proceedings, November 1973
strategy and tactics were developed. Through open inquiry, often unpopular, and through the foresight of dedicated staff members and students, this college has helped forge the principles of modern sea warfare.
It was Captain William McCarty Little who brought his pioneering naval adaptation of German Kriegspiel to Newport, and with it naval wargaming. From a primitive shuffling of ship models on the coffee mess floor, the concept progressed to the college’s Naval Electronic Warfare Simulator, soon, with its major expansion, to be known as the Warfare Analysis Research System.
It was at the Naval War College that the Pacific island campaigns of World War II were fought in the 1930s, leading to Admiral Chester Nimitz’s classic acknowledgment of debt to the college. Nothing he found in World War II Pacific campaigns surprised him, he said, save the kamikaze. Everything else had been gamed at the War College. And the accomplishments of innovation go far beyond this significant success. College war games, for instance, showed and documented the need for the Panama Canal.
Naval strategists in Newport, working with Marine Corps tacticians at Quantico, revolutionized U. S. amphibious doctrine in the 1930s—doctrine that proved so successful in World War II.
The basic task organizations that the Navy adopted just before World War II (task unit, task group, task force) were developed under the guidance of Rear Admiral Joseph K. Taussig, then the college chief of staff.
War College studies on the similarity of ship tactics and tank tactics were adapted by General George Patton, when he shaped the First Armored Corps.
Standard naval operation orders and the operation plan format were developed at the Naval War College.
Carrier task force organization and tactical doctrine were first tested in theory at the War College.
The naval aspects of the decisionmaking and planning process were perfected in Newport, later to be adopted in large measure by many American business strategists. The famous "Little Green Book” on sound military deci-
sions, produced in 1936, is still highly regarded by many in and out of the military.
Lest one think that all our accomplishments are relics of a faded past, many students in the last six years have had the satisfaction of seeing their group research projects disseminated and incorporated into policy and official thinking at the highest level.
The concepts of multinational standing naval forces, similar maritime on- call forces, and interlocking naval arrangements to protect the world sea lines of communication were developed in Newport during the past 17 years. These ideas were generated primarily in the Naval Command College and the International Seapower Symposia of 1969 and 1971.
As many of these examples illustrate, it is far from correct to assert that the War College prepares only for war. Let it be recalled that this college has singly done more for the preservation and furtherance of the Law of the Sea through its series of blue books on international law than any other comparable institu
tion in the United States.
This is a subject of rapidly increasing importance today. The unfortunate d|v pute between two of our close allies—Iceland and Great Britain-' hinges on issues of international 1**' These issues are properly a subject0 expert attention at the Naval ^ College.
Already, students and graduates 0 this institution have used this kno^' edge of international law to play a s1?- nificant role in the Soviet-American nC' gotiations on preventing incidents 31 sea. And at the International Conference on the law of the sea, soon to convene a lucid and knowledgeable presentst!011 of the U. S. maritime position will t* indispensable.
Nor is the Naval War College simpb a "think tank.” All of these accort1' plishments have been "spin-offs” ass°°' ated clearly with the educational process With these successes, of course, come some disappointments, and tl>c fortunes of war college influence ha'e experienced almost sine curve osciU1' tions, from the highest prestige to vi(‘ tually none.
Professional Notes 109
But throughout these vicissitudes, men like Mahan, Sims, Nimitz, Spru- ance, Sherman, and. Conolly—all closely associated with this college—labored to protect the great traditions of seapower and maritime strategy. It must be emphasized that these traditions have involved the maintenance and pursuit of peace every bit as much as the conduct of war.
The continuing legacy of Service college contribution, then, is a very proud and precious one. Naval War College graduates of today take their place beside the custodians of that legacy in a line 90 years long. And in this historical perspective, the great thinkers and movers just mentioned had one crucial conviction in common. They all shared an ingrained belief in the urgent need for intellectual challenge and rigor in the professional education of career officers. They would argue that the security of the nation and the professional relevance of the officer corps depend on mental discipline and mental energy.
This is precisely the value of the atmosphere of free inquiry which so roany have worked so hard to nurture. If the Naval War College is to continue to be the fount of new ideas, new ideas must always be welcome. The candid exchange of dynamic thinking, the catharsis of intellectual dissent, the courageous exploration of the controversial, the ideological rejection of the school solution—herein lies the true and continuing merit of the institution. Only these ingredients can produce the mnovations of tomorrow. And for the military, only a war college can provide
these ingredients in synthesis.
This, of course, places the onus of msponsibility squarely on the Service college graduates. They are inevitably ’dentified as the product of the Service college environment. They rise or fall svtth that credential; and with them tls« or falls the reputation of their college.
Even more important in the long run ls 'he responsibility of graduates to con- [mue to provide the dynamic innovation 'hey have been trained to deliver. On 'he product of their imagination rests 'he quality of the Services they repre- Sent> their professional calling, and ence> in large part, the security of our nat<on itself.
An important aspect of this responsibility to go on thinking independently, of course, is the need to evaluate the war college experience itself. Graduates who have gone forth to the challenges of the profession are best equipped to analyze the worth of the education they have received.
And today, especially, the professional officer needs the most sophisticated possible intellectual tools if he is to cope with the bewildering complexity of an interdependent world society in this nuclear age. War colleges have always been the storehouses of the military arts. But nowadays they must also prepare officers to function outside the confines of purely operational expertise, in an era of transition, of apparent detente, of new structuring of international politics, amid crises of energy, ecology, and economics. This is more important now, because the reputation of government service, in all its branches, is at a remarkably low ebb.
The sad catalog of adverse events and influences which have contributed to the deterioration of our prestige is all too familiar: an unpopular war, budgetary embarrassments, the insurgence of social permissiveness and rejection of organizational discipline, disenchantment with some of the traditions of our nation’s past, and the conflicting priorities of social reform.
In this context, the modern military officer remains a narrow exponent of his Service only at his own grave risk. Experience confirms the distressing number of brilliant operators catapulted into major staff and planning positions only to find their careers shattered by their lack of war college education and an understanding of the broader influences of modern strategy.
Let me emphasize especially the international aspect of this requirement. The preparation provided at the Naval War College is every bit as important in its ramifications abroad as it is at home. The international alumni of the Naval Command College, and its recent junior complement, the Naval Staff Course, have a primary stake in the future of the college. The college, likewise, has a fundamental obligation to them.
Of some 450 graduates of the Naval Command College (NCC), some 175
have achieved flag rank. Of that number, 25 officers have already risen to become CNOs of their respective navies. Many, of course, do not yet have sufficient seniority to be eligible for flag rank. Statistics, however, indicate that out of each class, 60 to 70% of the graduates will become admirals.
Throughout the world, in the Far East, Latin America, Europe, Africa, the Middle East, and South Asia, the pattern of success is similar. Many NCC alumni, now leaders in their navies, are convinced that their year in Newport was the most important in their careers, and they are quick to say so.
Theirs is a record of pride and accomplishment which, in an environment made interdependent by technology, communication, and alliances, adds immeasurably to the security of the world at large. Their confidence in and understanding of each other and the firm friendships they acquire in their year of working closely together constitute vital factors underlying much of their ability and our ability to overcome narrow national viewpoints for the common good.
The delicate formula which is the NCC, has proved, over the years, to be extraordinarily successful. The careful maintenance of that formula is of crucial importance to the Naval War College’s contribution to peace and security. The test of time has proved the need to sustain undiluted the small, close, intimate nature of this unique community.
The Navy can justly take enormous satisfaction in the splendid new buildings at Newport and the promise they embody for the continuing development of the Naval War College. But no master plan for the future can have true meaning unless it includes a determination to accept only the very finest thinkers and performers as students and faculty.
For it is ultimately the quality of the individual students themselves which will determine the excellence of this institution. By definition, the war colleges should be the chief producers of future leaders in the highest ranks. No amount of brilliant education can succeed in this unless superlative standards for incoming students are maintained.
U. S. Naval Institute Proceedings, November 1973
no
OSVs: End of an Era
By Commander Neil F. O’Connor, U. S. Navy, Formerly on the Staff, Naval Weather Service Command
After a quarter of a century of fighting with and reporting on the vagaries of Mother Nature, the Coast Guard’s weather ships are coming home. In an attempt to reduce rising costs, the U. S. government has decided to abandon its role in the international ocean station vessel (OSV) program. It is estimated that approximately $24 million will be saved annually by this action.
The Atlantic stations manned by the United States that were affected included station "Delta,” (44°00'N, 4l°00'W). This was terminated on 30 June 1973. Station "Charlie,” (52°45'N, 35°30'W), will be vacated on 31 December 1973, while station "Bravo” (56°30'N, 51°00'W), is scheduled to be concluded on 30 June 1974. The single U. S. Pacific station, "November,” (30°00'N, 140°00'W), located halfway between San Francisco and Honolulu, will be abandoned on 30 June 1974. The withdrawal of the United States in the OSV program leaves five stations, manned by European nations, operating in the eastern portion of the North Atlantic. One Pacific station, manned by Canadians, will operate in the Gulf of Alaska.
The first U. S. ocean weather stations were established in January 1940, when President Franklin D. Roosevelt withdrew Coast Guard ships from the Neutrality Patrol and assigned them to duties as floating weather stations between Bermuda and the Azores. The ships provided navigational, communications, meteorological, and medical services to passing ships and aircraft. As the tempo of the Allied efforts increased in Africa and Europe during World War II, so did the military air traffic across the Atlantic. By 1943, eight weather stations were in operation, providing assistance and guidance to the aerial armada winging eastward overhead. The ships used ranged from frigates to con
verted yachts, trawlers, and corvettes. With the end of the war in Europe, U. S. personnel and aircraft swarmed home. During this period, as many as 20 ships were pressed into service as weather stations. It was the wartime value of the services provided by these ships that proved the desirability of having them available to support peacetime international commercial air travel.
On 25 September 1946, the International Civil Aviation Organization (ICAO) met, under the auspices of the United Nations, to consider the safety of the increasing numbers of transatlantic commercial passenger flights. Nine nations signed an international accord to establish 13 stations in the Atlantic along the principal air routes between Europe and North America. Of the five nations that agreed to provide ships, the United States offered to man seven-and-a-half stations; it required two
to three ships to man one station, which accounts for the fraction. The nations involved in this cooperative effort included the United Kingdom, Canada, Ireland, France, Belgium, the Netherlands, Norway, Sweden, and the United States. By 1948, a small flotilla of weather ships was on station across the North Atlantic.
While on station, ships broadcast navigational data around the clock, pass current ships weather, relay messages, and provide medical advice to passing ships and aircraft. During the 24-hour day, eight detailed synoptic surface weather observations are taken and encoded into a standard international code. These reports include visual observations of the sky, sea conditions, and visibility. The instrument portion of the observations include barometric pressure readings, wind direction and force, and temperature. In addition, 600-gran1
111
Professional Notes
weather balloons, which when inflated with helium expand to about six feet in diameter, are launched twice daily to probe the atmosphere up to and often beyond 60,000 feet. The upper air observations, called rawinsondes, provide accurate measurements of temperature, humidity, and pressure, as well as wind direction and velocity. The launching of these vulnerable, cumbersome balloons ls difficult on board the spacious flight deck of an aircraft carrier, but it is a major feat on board a rolling cutter, both the surface and upper air observa- tions are transmitted to regional meteorological communications centers for delusion in weather collectives which are exchanged internationally.
Meteorological data from ocean sta- tton vessels are highly prized by weathermen throughout the world, for they rt'present a maritime observation that can be absolutely relied upon with respect to quality and location. Using the 0sv reports as reference points, the observations from all other transient ships can be compared for accuracy. In es- Scnce, observations taken from weather ships are like having a non-moving is- brid weather station in the middle of a sparse data area.
The wisdom of the ICAO members to establish the ocean station program was Pr°ven shortly after its inauguration, because the 327-foot Coast Guard cutter was on station in October 1947, what could have been the worst air tragedy in Atlantic history was narrowly jetted. The incident began late in the J 'ernoon of 13 October, when the Ber- ^da Sky Queen, one of five Boeing °Ur-engine flying boats lifted off the hannon River at Foynes, Ireland. The umbering craft was on the second leg 0 a charter flight destined for Balti- rn°rc, Maryland. The flight, which orig- lnated at Poole, England, carried 62 stngers and a crew of eight, with a °rmer U. S. Navy pilot as the plane ^mrnander. The Bermuda Sky Queen ^ been built by Boeing in 1941 at t. t(k, and had been operated briefly as C ^ape Town Clipper by Pan Ameri- rUn °n '^C ^Cw 'r°rk t0 Belgian Congo talc ^ear* harbor, the seaplane was ^ etl over by the Navy until the end of v;;ar, when it was declared surplus and jn the War Assets Administration ^46. The plane was reconditioned
and all the luxury fittings that had been removed for wartime duty were reinstalled. While Pan American operated the craft, it was licensed to carry 89 passengers, but apparently never carried more than half that number on the westbound flights.
The Bermuda Sky Queen’s westbound flight plan for the 1,710-mile journey between Ireland and Newfoundland provided for the seaplane to arrive at Gander by daylight. With the planes normal cruising speed rated at 188 m.p.h., it should have passed over ocean station "Charlie,” manned by the Bibb, about midnight. Strong southwesterly winds aloft along the route, however, reduced the estimated air speed to less than 130 m.p.h. With increased fuel consumption brought on by the headwinds, the plane commander realized when he was 100 miles from the weather ship, that he had reached a point of no return. Rather than taking a chance that the remaining fuel would be sufficient to carry the plane the remaining 760 miles to Newfoundland, the plane commander elected to land his craft alongside the Bibb. At 0804 ship’s time, the Bermuda Sky Queen was skillfully eased into the trough of a sea, estimated to be running as high as 30 to 35 feet. Crewmen of the Bibb immediately attempted to secure a line to the Bermuda Sky Queen, but the heavy seas and bobbing of the aircraft thwarted the attempt. The skipper of the Bibb was reluctant to get too close lest a brush with the flying boat could quickly destroy the plane’s watertight integrity. With the plane riding out the seas without any structural problems, the day was spent determining the best way to solve the problem.
With darkness coming on rapidly, a transfer of passengers had to be made. By late afternoon, the first attempt was made. A rubber raft was launched from the plane, but burst before it could be used. Meanwhile, the Bibb, in spite of the heavy seas, got over a self-bailing motor surf boat and a 20-man life raft. The runs between the ship and the Bermuda Sky Queen were slow, difficult, and dangerous. After several successful trips, however, both the boat and the raft were swamped, but quick action by the crew of the Bibb saved all that were in them, although both the boat and
the raft were lost. Volunteers from the Bibb continued the work of retrieving passengers with eight men pulling a Monomoy lifeboat. By nightfall, 44 passengers had been taken off the downed seaplane, but the remaining 25 passengers and crew rode out the night on board the plane. At first light on 15 October, the Coast Guard cutter crew retrieved the last of the passengers and crew.
The Bermuda Sky Queen was necessarily destroyed as a hazard to navigation, and after the Bibb was relieved "on-station,” she returned to the United States with the plane’s passengers and crew on 19 October. Thus, one of the most spectacular and dramatic search and rescue (SAR) operations ever undertaken by an ocean vessel concluded in a most auspicious fashion, and it was to be almost ten years before an OSV would be involved in a similar drama.
The Pacific Ocean was next to claim a commercial airliner. The SAR incident, which involved the Coast Guard cutter Pontchartrain, occurred on 16 October 1956. At 2130 on 15 October, Pan American Flight No. 943 departed Ohau on what was normally a routine night flight to the mainland. The Boeing Stratocruiser, called the Sovereign of the Sky, carried 24 passengers and a crew of seven. At about 0330 on 16 October, two of the plane’s four engines suddenly failed. Down below, only a few miles away, the Coast Guard cutter Pontchartrain was cruising in ocean station "November,” located midway between San Francisco and Honolulu, approximately 1,150 miles from the U. S. mainland.
After making contact with the Pontchartrain, the plane circled overhead making "dry runs” in preparation for ditching of the plane at daylight. There would be only one chance for a successful ditch. During these agonizingly long hours, the passengers made brave attempts at nonchalance, as the Stratocruiser limped through the sky at a retarded 140 m.p.h. The prop of number four engine was feathered, but that on number one windmilled uncontrolled. All the while, preparations were being carefully made on board the Pontchartrain. With seas of less than five feet, and only eight knots of wind, conditions were near optimum, as the cutter laid out a two-mile-long swath of foam
walked away from U’hat could have been a
for the plane to land on.
At 0814, with passengers briefed for the final time, rigged in their yellow life jackets, and securely lodged in the center section of the aircraft, the Sovereign of the Sky slammed into the gentle Pacific. The sea came alive under the impact. The tail section of the plane was immediately sheared from the main body. Seats from the wrecked portion of the plane broke loose and were flung skyward through the ruptured shell. The main section of the Stratoliner’s fuselage slowly began to take on water, as the passengers swiftly, but carefully, exited the aircraft as they had been briefed. Two 26-foot motor craft, a gig, and a whaleboat raced toward the sinking airliner, as the crew of the plane inflated and got aboard their own life rafts. With most passengers already safe, a Coast Guards-
cold, watery grave. ”
man and the plane commander made a careful final check, wading through knee- deep waters inside the plane, looking for anyone who might have been overlooked, or perhaps injured during the evacuation. Finding no one, they clambered on board a waiting boat and returned to the Pontchartrain. The once proud Sovereign of the Sky sank in less than 20 minutes after it had been ditched. Because a ship was on station, however, 19 men, nine women, and three children, literally walked away from what could have been a cold, watery grave. The story ended on 19 October, when the Coast Guard cutter Pontchartrain returned the survivors to a happy reunion with friends and relatives on a San Francisco pier.
In general, the search and rescue efforts of the ocean station vessels are
a little simpler and much more routine. Take, for example, the 6 September 1970 case of the lost boat and tow incident involving the American yacht, LeTiger. The owner, who had made four previous safe crossings in his 23-foot, New York-registered sailboat, became lost in heavy weather. The U. S. Coast Guard cutter, Duane, which had been manning station "Delta,” intercepted the plea for assistance. Two days later, the Duane came alongside and took the LeTiger in tow, and returned to station. Less than 24 hours later, a British ship offered assistance, and took the LeTiger on board for the westbound trip to New York. Incidents such as these take the weather ships off station on an average of about twice a year. In most situations, the actual event has only a limited news value, but for the individuals involved, like those on the Bermuda Sky Queen and the Sovereign of the Sky, it is a matter of life and death, and assistance means survival on a hostile sea.
W. SIMPSON. CS2, USCG
"At 0814 ■ . ■ the sea came alive under the impact. The tail section of the plane was immediately sheared from the main body. . . . The main section of the Stratoliner's fuselage slowly began to take on water, as the passengers swiftly, but carefully exited the aircraft as they had been briefed. . . . The once proud Sovereign of the Sky sank in less than 20 minutes after it had been ditched. . . . Because a ship [VSCGC Pontchartrain] was on station, however. 19 men, nine women, and three children . . .
Medical assistance is another of the ancillary services provided passing ships and aircraft. Trained medical personnel on board the ocean station vessels stand ready to accept any call for medical assistance. An average of three to four incidents occur each year, where the OSV is called upon to provide aid. The service also includes passing medical advice by radio. In 1970, ocean station "Charlie” located in the middle of the Atlantic, gave medical guidance to passing aircraft on four different occasions, and at least 16 times to transiting ships. During the same year, cutters manning OSV "Delta” advised two aircraft and 22 ships of the proper medical procedures.
Scientific observations by the ocean stations are not limited to meteorology, but also include oceanographic observations. These observations include taking bathythermographs, surface current measurements, whale and porpoise sightings, sea water samples for the World Health Organization, and on occasion, the towing of plankton recorders. The on-station OSVs also participate in a pollution-monitoring program conducted under the joint auspices of the World Meteorological Organization (WMO), and the Intergovernmental Oceanographic Commission (IOC). There are 115 member states in the WMO and 65 member nations in the
Professional Notes 113
IOC, which gives an idea of the magnitude of international cooperation in these scientific areas.
Although the United States manned all ocean stations at one time as agreed upon at the 1946 London ICAO conference, by 1954 it was necessary for the United States to man only four, as other member nations of ICAO assumed more responsibility.
Although the termination of the U. S. portion of the OSV program will be felt, the increased use of both communications and meteorological satellites will partially offset the loss of the OSV capability. Perhaps the greatest impact will be upon the meteorological community, which over the last 25 years has grown dependent upon the highly
accurate and timely weather reports. For example, Naval Weather Service Command activities have long used the OSV reports in the preparation of the widely used Optimum Track Ship Routing (OTSR), which is available to any Navy ship making a long transit. Upper air reports from the OSVs have been and are being used among other things, as maritime ground truth points in refining meteorological sensor data. The loss of these reports could delay progress in this field. The absence of the oceanographic observations made by the weather ships will be particularly felt by the Naval Weather Service Command, which is responsible for the preparation of the Navy’s operational ASW forecasts. And although there is no specific naval avia-
tion program that requires OSVs, their potential use as navigational check points for transiting aircraft will no longer be available. Finally, from the standpoint of ecology, the world community will have to rely principally upon transient merchant and naval shipping to report incidents such as oil spills or major oil slicks that might be found on the high seas.
Those countries that continue to operate the remaining OSVs have yet to announce their intention of remaining in the program. With the termination of the U. S. program, however, an era ends. No longer will there be that vigil at sea for ships and aircraft that pass in the night.
ARAPAHO—Emergency Helo Cover for Merchantmen
By Lieutenant James J. Mulquin, U. S. Naval Reserve (Retired), Support Systems Manager, Naval Air Systems Command
For the past several decades, too little attention has been focused on merchant ship defense in time of emergency. Although significant progress is evident in sea control—aircraft, ships, sensors and weapons systems—the problem of furnishing modern, effective protection to the merchant ship, transiting alone or in small convoys, has been singularly unresolved. In previous periods of actual or impending sea conflict, the principal ASW weapons were regularly supplied to every type of logistic ship. This was the case in both world wars. The 5-inch/ 38-calibcr deck gun, immortalized in the capable hands of armed guard detachments was installed in nearly everything afloat. In World War II, when the need for fighter cover arose, the British employed catapults on board selected merchantmen. When threatened, these ships launched their "Hurricane” aircraft on one-time missions against German bombers and reconnaissance aircraft that would otherwise have enjoyed virtual immunity. Depth charges, certain experimental sensors, and other Weaponry were not only supplied to •\avy escorts, but to the escorted as well.
and the idea certainly made sense. The concept of indigenous protection of cargo ships is hardly novel and enjoys wide precedent. What does seem challenging, however, is the notion that current weaponry and sensor installations, with their 1972 sophistication, can be successfully deployed on board likely target vessels. There has developed an assumption that despite generally- accepted need for such defensive capability, the merchantman is destined to sail with little, if any, serious protection against a nuclear submarine threat.
There are arguments for and against such a thesis. The cost, complexity, security, training, and maintenance requirements of many advanced ASW and antisubmarine missile defense (ASMD) systems make installation on board other than Navy ships and/or aircraft impractical. At the same time, the effort to derive some effective compromise-some means of extending modern protection beyond the decks of escort craft and making it compatible with merchant shipping—has been sadly insufficient.
In recent months, quiet inquiry has
been made as to the feasibility of bettering the merchantman’s chances in a sea war. Many weapons systems and surveillance means have been nominated for consideration. One specific question concerned the feasibility of helicopter- basing on board ships of opportunity as a projection of sea control. It has been recognized, of course, that helos can successfully operate from almost any deck surface. The matter of long-term support for the aircraft, its systems, flight and maintenance personnel, fuel provision, and other ancillary considerations, however, is quite another matter. Further compounding the issue is the difficulty in procuring and supporting the rather exotic sensor suites that modern ASW/ASMD helo operations require. The full conversion of various merchant ship classes for helo operation, while possible, has notable drawbacks: a 10-to-30% payload degradation, a lengthy period of shipyard conversion, considerable cost, and the probability of ship addition to the active inventory, where her cargo capacity may neither be needed nor desirable in peacetime. While true that such capability can be
designed into new ship construction, there is so little being undertaken in this country that the capability would hardly be of value. The conclusion, developed after consideration of many alternatives, has been that if such a capability is to be practical, it must take the form of mobile, adaptable modules that can be installed and removed easily from ships without permanent alteration or payload compromise.
One promising concept, presently under Navy scrutiny, is the ARAPAHO plan. Briefly, this proposes development of an array of containers—standard cargo vans—modified to support helo operations, and designed for quick delivery to appropriate ships for "instant” ASW/ASMD protection. Insiders assert that the name ARAPAHO, despite the temptation to decipher it, is not an acronym. Selected by a Navy engineer purely for convenience, it identifies a firm schedule and cost plan for the design of suitable modular units, their fabrication and trial installation on board one or more host merchantmen, and their use during simulated ASW operations.
ARAPAHO offers, perhaps for the first time, a sound means of quickly and inexpensively providing emergency helo
cover to a ship that is not a combatant, not under regular Navy control, and practically without defense against the nuclear submarine and cruise missile. The concept has not been developed and is, at present, in advance of a firm requirement by the Navy.
ARAPAHO is a product of growing concern for the survivability of merchant shipping under direct threat from nuclear-powered submarines and the types of air/surface launched missiles presently in service here and abroad. The plan concentrates on eventual perfection of a system that combines wartime effectiveness with peacetime fiscal compatibility. The plan also proposes a workable alternative that has a very simple basis—use of existing resources.
Some preliminary assumptions, most common to the sea control problem, have to be recognized: first, the emergence of a limited, non-nuclear crisis, where a threat to international sea lanes quickly materializes and where freedom of passage is a primary concern to the United States and its allies; and second, a period of about three to five days is required to muster and deploy reaction forces against an integrated nuclear submarine/cruise missile threat. Under conditions noted, it is probable that
despite limited inventories, more AS*1 helos could be deployed in those fits' few days than ships would be available to support them. Hence, it is conceivable that a potent reactive presence could be generated and maintained if
ships of opportunity—merchantmen,
naval auxiliaries, non-aviation combatants—could be quickly adapted to sup port ASW helo operations. The time, the manpower, and the facilities for met- chant ship alteration in a shipyat'' would obviously be inadequate in this situation. Resources must be directed toward a fast response, flexible force5 and, of course, the defense funding f°re' cast for the mid-to-late 1970s.
This author's sketch depicts SH-2F LAMPS helicopter operations from the deck of a modern, high-performance containership, equipped with the ARAPAHO aviation facility. Cargo ship speeds in excess of 32 knots and tanker displacements of over 500,000 tons add new possibilities to the conventional means of sealane control.
■i
thc>f
containers have not only proven
ristf
tM
os**1;
uth
to deploy an ASW helo squadron £ its aircraft, organizational and intCf^ diate level maintenance, sensor people, and fuel supply packaged for ^
cifl
be converted almost overnight to a
co*1'
Modern technology, as practiced jj) the marketplace, has provided an °r‘ the-shelf solution that we are only stare ing to appreciate. The standard freigb' container, properly outfitted for aviati°n support, and employed on board c0" tainer ships, offers a potential in ten115 of efficiency, economy, and speed th*j can revolutionize the dimension 3<] power of sea control. Self-containc' self-sustaining modular units have ready been demonstrated at sea, un the environmental conditions charaC teristic of open-ocean warfare. In retfnt Navy demonstrations, inexpensive caf?°
ability to support aircraft units on sin111 lated combat misssions, but also 'lJ
established the means of elimina'
entirely the classic dependence on ^
host ship. Clean, air-conditioned 111 ^
ules, produced at a fraction of 1
equivalent cost for conventional sh*
board compartments, have Pr0^[(
adaptable to a variety of aviationsupP^(
functions with different types of aifC
and classes of ships.
In the same manner, it is also p°ss‘‘u • • - - ■ -
on board a variety of ships or advaf1 base sites. With this system, a ship
counter-measures base, an ASV? f
mand/control center, or many f.
uses, all at a fraction of the cost ^ mally incurred in such a transit^ Covert projection of aviation units ^ related assets from the United Stat^j foreign locations is obviously enha
Professional Notes 115
with the adoption of the container principle. The basic ARAPAHO array accommodates a range of alternative applications without the burden of permanent ship alteration, advance commitment to a specific type and model of aircraft or long-term obligation to the purchase, upkeep, staffing, insuring, and general impediment of the ship.
Often described as an "advanced concept,” the idea hardly carries the sophistication and complexity this connotes. Actually, the ARAPAHO system is already designed and virtually functional today. Tests units have already been used by the Navy on board ship. Similar units have been deployed in the past at many shore bases, air stations, and remote sites to support construction or interim operational needs. The major challenges so often associated with new development just do not exist today. Large numbers of suitable commercial ships, many under U. S.-flag, are now available in tegular commercial service around the world. Container handling equipment is common in most major ports. The ASW
helicopters are in the current Navy inventory. Even the aviation fuel tanks, suspended in container frames and using identical handling equipment, are already designed and in production. For these reasons, it has been estimated that the first system prototype could be completely engineered, assembled, tested, and delivered for operation within about a year.
Although new applications are being suggested constantly, the primary ARAPAHO emphasis is on the emergency activation of a commercial ship for a limited period, her use as a protected cargo carrier in hostile waters, and her eventual return to the original operator and resumption of normal service. At no time would the ship be compelled to enter a shipyard or undergo modification of any substantial kind. She would serve as a badly-needed supplement to other forms of sea control—the fully-commissioned sea control ship, the various classes of surface escort, and land-based and carrier-based air. In no sense would she duplicate the capability
of the dedicated sea control ship or even offer a comparable alternative, since the ARAPAHO is designed to retain the basic logistic mission of the host ship. Although her temporary use as an offensive submarine hunter has been mentioned, the size and capacity of poten tial ARAPAHO candidates is such that their value as cargo carriers would almost certainly outweigh any other commitment.
The ARAPAHO plan provides complete support capability—aircraft maintenance, "hotel” accommodation, and fuel supply—to an ASW helo squadron, perhaps one of the four Naval Air Reserve units presently equipped and operating the SH-3A model. If exercised, maintained, and tested regularly by the unit, the installation would offer the same mobility as the aircraft themselves. Rather than continued dependence upon fixed, static aviation support from a limited number of ships, the aviation squadron would enjoy the advantage of nearly total freedom of deployment, both ashore or afloat. Little-used maintenance and repair facilities would become a thing of the past. The heavy dollar outlay associated with a Navy ship, and such problems as facilities and training incidental to her operation, would automatically be eliminated. Until actual deployment of ARAPAHO, all costs, labor negotiation, and matters of repair and replacement are the owner’s responsibility. Upon termination of use, the ship is quickly restored to her former configuration, the ARAPAHO units removed at a pier of convenience, and the ship returned to her operator. ARAPAHO supposes that host ships would be manned by their regular master and civilian ship’s company, an identical situation to that experienced in both world wars. With some exceptions such as the "knockdown” flight deck and hangar, the selected host ship handles and maintains ARAPAHO modules exactly as regular cargo containers.
Basically then, the ARAPAHO baseline system contains the following component elements: host ship and crew, ASW aircraft, Navy flight and support personnel, and the ARAPAHO support vans. The host ships would include all the large, ocean-going containerships and many of the tankers now in commercial service. Certain Navy auxiliaries and
amphibious types might also be examined.
For baseline purposes, an air group consisting of six SH-3A helicopters has been selected. Obviously, the system is no better than its components, and with the possible development of an improved SH-3 or the eventual introduction of a rotary-wing early warning capability, general performance upgrading would occur. The new SH-3H, for example, would be a logical candidate. Should there be a decision to employ the LAMPS aircraft, equivalent support could be provided for that system. Aircraft would be used to provide continuing surveillance in the area around the ARAPAHO ship and possibly her convoy. As improved capabilities reach the Fleet, better ASMD protection, more efficient sensors, more proficient weapons systems, and longer duration helos will further assure the security of critical sealanes. Working in conjunction with the most advanced sensor systems available, the ARAPAHO would make it considerably more hazardous for a hostile submarine to close the range sufficiently to positively identify a potential high-value target.
The flight crews and mainte- nance/support personnel would be drawn from either the regular Navy or especially-trained Naval Air Reserve squadrons. With the inherent flexibility provided, the unit would have the option of deployment on board merchantmen, a CVS, as part of a CV (integrated strike-ASW wing) designated attack carrier, or from a shore-base. Between 100 and 150 Navy personnel might be required, in addition to the ship’s civilian crew.
The ARAPAHO containers, numbering between 50 and 100 depending on the specific ship and her available support facilities, would be divided between aviation maintenance and supply support (20%), Navy berthing/messing/facilities (50%), and fuel supply (30%). Included would be repair and checkout facilities, spare parts, ordnance items, a power generator, fresh water evaporators and supply tanks, chemical heads, and JP-5 fuel storage.
Each container would be fully compatible with the dimensions and facilities of the host ship. Vans would probably be the more-or-less-standard 8 X 8 X 20-foot size, already success
fully used on board the USS Wasp (CVS-18), the interim sea control ship USS Guam (lph-9), and a few other Fleet units. The majority of vans in squadron custody, would actually go on board ship at the time of deployment. Some would contain components of the flight deck and aircraft hangar, and remain on the pier once these structures were erected. Several options are available in flight/hangar deck design, including a proposal to employ the lightweight aluminum panels used in Vietnam with the Short Airfield for Tactical Support (SATS) concept of mobile airfield construction. Since freight containers are normally tiered three-to-five units high on a ship’s main deck, it is possible to distribute loading to the corner posts. The total weight of the ARAPAHO package is far below the containers regularly carried in commerical operation and, as a result, sufficient strength exists for larger helicopter types, including the CH-47 and the CH-53. Plans obviously envision eventual development and use of more advanced ASW/ASMD aircraft, perhaps using tilt wings, rotating power plants, and the like.
The distribution of the ARAPAHO to selected Naval Air Reserve units would carry distinct advantages, according to sources familiar with that organization and its mobilization potential. First, the Air Reserve is a completely different, far more responsive force than was the case during the Berlin "call-up.” Carrier- qualified, fully-manned, and with modern aircraft assigned, the units would benefit by assignment of mobilization responsibility at sea, in a combat role with relative independence from conventional forces. It is in such an environment that Reserve aviation squadrons might then exercise their full potential. The ability to mobilize full- strength ARAPAHO detachments within the times suggested here, is well within the acceptable margins. By continually exercising with ARAPAHO throughout the year, and actually deploying at sea during periods of active duty training, the equipment, facilities, and techniques would be maintained at peak readiness and not merely stockpiled against a future contingency.
The clear trend in current maritime construction is toward even more con- tainerships. The new Sea-Land SU7 de
sign, with its 22,000 dwt. and 33-knot sustained cruise capability is representative of modern performance levels. These ships are, depending on the estimate taken, replacing conventional break-bulk ships at a rate of between eight and 17:1. The single, high-value target of today may easily be the equivalent of a dozen cargo ship kills in World War II. With an active merchant marine of under 600 ships, the potential attrition in an open sea conflict could quickly reach catastrophic proportions.
The ARAPAHO "game plan” anticipates a quickly-declared sea emergenq' in which all resources available are hurriedly mustered and sent to sea. A designated ARAPAHO squadron, based for example at the Naval Air Station, Lakehurst, New Jersey, would receive orders to commence deployment to a specified port. A quick determination of the nearest, most appropriate merchant ship would have been made, then relayed to the unit and, moving overnight by interstate highway, the majority of vans could arrive at their destination—Bayonne, for example—in just a few hours. Once at pierside, they would be loaded along with the ship’s cargo containers. With modern containerships able to completely cycle cargo in two days, estimates are that an ARAPAHO installation could be completed within four days and possibly sooner. The squadron aircraft would join the ship once facilities were assembled. At the option of the tactical commander, such a ship could sail alone, or become par1 of a high-performance convoy, with the ARAPAHO protection extended to adjacent units. Some accompanying ship5 might be equipped with a simple High' deck and minimum aircraft support to complement the fuller maintenance, repair, and replenishment capacity of the primary host.
By maintaining one or more aircraft airborne at all times, the ARAPAHO system provides a very valuable range services: submarine detection and evasion; advanced warning of hostile re' connaissance aircraft; identification off shipping missile hazard; and the ability to actively survey wide ocean areas without compromising the host ship °r convoy.
The ARAPAHO accommodates die strong desire to reduce major defend
Professional Notes 117
e>tpenditures while still maintaining responsibilities of the Nixon Doctrine. It emphasizes the use of existing, as opposed to new resources. By employing ships already available in time of emergency or local crisis, it neatly sidesteps the continuing requirement for equivalent new construction. It employs ASW helo assets already at hand. True, helo assets are diminished and the problem is becoming crucial. The ARAPAHO, however, does not carry it to the brink. The matter of new rotary-wing aircraft acquisition is a critical issue with or without the ARAPAHO. By providing a feasible means of basing these aircraft at sea, the Navy can exercise their capability in the manner intended, in a deepwater environment where their qualities ate so badly needed.
The development of the idea is one °f the curious by-products of austerity, where use of merchantmen in an offen
sive situation would hardly receive recognition were it not for the crisis in defense funding. As more and more ASW/ASMD functions become airborne vice seaborne, and as ship procurement costs continue to soar, the merchant ship becomes that much more attractive as an aviation platform. This is especially true, since even with a complete ARAPAHO installation on board and operational, the ship sacrifices no more than 5 to 10% of her payload. With host ships of 20,000 dwt. and over, carrying 1,200 containers and more, the addition of the ARAPAHO becomes more than reasonable. In the case of tankers, such as the 326,000 dwt. bulk carriers of the Universe Ireland type, the ARAPAHO can be fitted with no compromise to payload whatsoever. Numbers of aircraft carried, their type, size of detachments, amount of support equipment, personnel, length of deployment and other factors are
totally negotiable because of the implicit growth potential of the host ships. The basic ARAPAHO plan calls for 30-day operation at sea without underway replenishment, more than enough to satisfy most emergency service requirements.
It has been suggested to Navy planners, that ARAPAHO might be an effective means of projecting sea forces without the politically-questionable, permanent hull alteration that could result in facility denial in many Third- World ports. Another projection is the introduction of the ARAPAHO into NATO, enabling smaller nations with a modern merchant marine, but limited warship construction funding, to assume a much larger "share of the action” in their home waters. Although the concept is far from a complete answer, it does offer attractive possibilities at very reasonable cost, with a high probability of successful payoff.
The Effect of Sea Pay °n Retention
% Commander D. H. Gress, U. S. Navy, A'aval Reserve Officer Training Corps Tnit, Iowa State University
Admiral John S. McCain, U. S. Navy (Retired), has written:
Life at sea is a constant conflict of man against the elements. Endless struggle with winds, tides, currents, and storms at sea is everyday routine to the seaman. At sea, a man’s entire mode of living changes. A ship is a world unto itself.
Working hours are subject to all of the ''agarics of life at sea, such as weather, enemy action, navigation, operation of machinery, and many other factors. Life « a never-ending round of drills, watches, work routines, meals, reveille, and taps that occupy 24 hours of every day, seven days a week.
While the amount of time spent at Sea has not been substantially reduced, 'l'e amount of sea pay has been severely teduced. Before 1949, an officer at sea Reived a 10% addition to his base pay *nd an enlisted man received 20%. To- the same enlisted man on board ship receives a few dollars of sea pay, "'hich varies from $8.00 to $22.50 a
month depending on the individual’s pay grade; officers do not receive sea pay.
This small sum hardly compensates for the long hours in cramped living conditions and uncomfortable working spaces with limited recreation, inadequate or non-existent medical or dental facilities on board small ships, and long deployments at sea. These conditions combined with prolonged absences from one’s family are cited as a primary reason for officers and enlisted personnel leaving the Navy. During the Vietnam conflict, the U. S. Army publicized the return of men for a second tour, but the Navy men are rotated to the Western Pacific continuously. Personnel who served in Vietnam for 12 or 13 months were often reassigned to a ship after their leave period and served an additional nine months operating off the coast of Vietnam.
Many personnel in the Navy serve repeated tours at sea. During the submarine bonus hearings held by the
Armed Services Committee in 1969, Navy witnesses testified that several naval officers had spent over 14 years at sea without being assigned to shore duty. This may have been standard operating procedure in the past, but younger personnel of today look with dismay at spending a decade at sea prior to their first shore duty assignment.
Admiral Thomas H. Moorer, U. S. Navy, while Chief of Naval Operations, stated in May 1970, that it was urgent for the tempo of operations to be eased and for sea duty to be made more attractive. "Unless we do,” Admiral Moorer said, "little progress will be possible towards the goal of a higher quality professional Navy.”
Can the sailor of the future expect to spend more time in his homeport? Hardly! The number of ships in the U. S. Navy has been greatly reduced through decommissionings. Peace in Vietnam, notwithstanding, it appears that our commitments abroad will con-
tinuc and have to be carried out with a reduced force. A commanding officer of a destroyer with the U. S. Seventh Fleet recently stated, "It would appear that with the wind down in Vietnam the tempo of operations would be reduced, but we are busier than ever.”
Our present sea pay arrangement has discriminating characteristics and does not take into consideration the rating structure in the Navy. A boatswain’s mate, quartermaster, boiler technician, or signalman will spend a longer tour at sea than will a dental technician, personnelman, or hospital corpsman.
Presently, an E-5 boatswain’s mate with ten years at sea receives the same amount of sea pay that the hospital corpsman receives who has two years at sea and eight years ashore. If the man at sea needs additional money to keep up on his bills, he cannot "moonlight” as an Army or Air Force enlisted man can, since they are stationed at shore bases. Because of the intricacy of certain jobs performed by certain naval rates and the lack of shore duty billets, more time is spent at sea by certain ratings (job occupations) than others. According to BuPers Notice 1306 of January 1973, projected sea tours (PST) for certain ratings are as follows: A boatswain’s mate second class (E-5) will have to spend six ygars at sea prior to shore duty, a boiler technician second class six years, and a yeoman second class three years. Time spent at sea is presently not equitable among the Navy ratings; therefore, certain personnel spend more time on shore assignments, during which time they can hold down a second job, while those at sea cannot.
There have been substantial base pay compensation increases for the enlisted men in the lower pay grades. The most recent increase resulted from the passage of P.L. 92-129 in September 1971. Enlisted personnel in grades E l through E--1 were the primary recipients of basic pay increases. Some increases were very impressive, but compensation for sea duty was not changed!
Pay is a factor that concerns both officers and enlisted personnel. His pay is dependent upon his grade, and whether or not he is married. Pay generally remains the same whether he is ashore or at sea. He may receive a family separation allowance of $30.00, if an E-4
or above with four years of service, but he will not receive this allowance during the time the ship is operating in and out of homeport for short periods of time. The only compensation he receives for his daily long hours of work plus continuous watches is the small amount of sea pay. If the married enlisted man is receiving commuted rations, he actually will take a pay cut by being assigned to sea duty under such conditions.
d
There is no question that with the Navy now an all-volunteer force, we may continue to have a retention problem. The Navy’s retention problem cannot justly be equated with those of the Army and Air Force. It appears that since the establishment of the Department of Defense in 1947, that Servicemen have been wedded to uniformity in compensation despite the varying conditions of duty. Over the years, special rewards for men going to sea, including early retirement, have been discontinued. Until the family separation allowance was instituted in 1963, a married enlisted man, assigned to sea duty, took a pay cut because he lost the amount of money he would have been receiving for commuted rations. Considering the many restrictions on separation allowance eligibility, the inability to "moonlight,” and not being available to assist his family, the man loses, financially, by going to sea. This financial disparity does not exist in the other Services.
listed men. As we proceed in the
to retention. We need to compere those personnel from whom we are
sate
de-
tir$
One of the answers to our dilemma is just compensation for work done. A bill introduced in Congress by the late Chairman L. Mendel Rivers, of the House Armed Services Committee, would have been a big step in assisting the Navy in its problem of retention. It is unfortunate that this bill did not pass. The bill would have authorized payment of $15.00 a month for an officer or enlisted man who had less than two years of sea duty; up to and including, $105.00 a month for anyone with more than 12 years’ sea time. The pay would have been based on the amount of time each recipient had spent at sea and would have been equal for officers and enlisted men. Studies indicated that the amount of money required to put this program in effect would not have been excessive. The cost for Fiscal Year 1971 would have been just over $93 million.
An alternate solution could be to tie sea pay to a percentage of a man’s base pay similar to the procedure used prior to 1949. Extra pay for serving at sea could be considered "arduous pay.” A percentage multiple could be tied to the number of years served at sea. A man having served up to ten years at sea would receive an additional 10%, 10 to 15 years an additional 20%, and 15 to 20 years an additional 25%. Presently, the U. S. Civil Service Commission, as well as industry, uses an additional percentage based on salary for employees assigned to hardship areas. Civil Service personnel assigned to certain arduous areas receive an additional 25% of their base salary. Duty on board ships at sea can most certainly be considered as arduous duty.
The Navy spends a great amount of money training enlisted personnel assigned to technical ratings during their first enlistment. It is common sense economics that we receive a better return on this large investment. Sea pa)' would be an incentive pay that would fill a present void in today’s Navy’s p3)’ system. Presently, we are losing some ot our trained technicians after their second enlistment. In the past, we consid- ered that a man who finished his second tour of duty was a careerist. Industry ha-s found such personnel very desirable an1 has been recruiting them.
If the retention rate for first tern’ personnel can be raised, "sea pay” wou)d then justify itself and may possibly ate a savings, since it would reduce tra*n' ing requirements for new person^ to replace those who have returned tL> lucrative civilian employment. ^c Navy’s "Career Motivation Confff enccs” have recommended that acti°d be taken on sea j>ay for officers 3l\ enlisted men with the amounts on cumulative years at sea.
Life at sea is especially inconvenk*1'
and arduous. Such a life requires c*[ti
compensation for both officers and
• jlh
_
volunteer Navy, we need to consider t amount of sea pay and its correlat’°fl
manding almost wartime operat schedules in peacetime, sacrifices 3fl beyond the devotion to duty.