In The Influence of Sea Power . . . , Mahan wrote movingly of the far-distant, storm-beaten Royal Navy ships, upon which France's Grand Army never looked, yet which stood between Napoleon and dominion of the world So, too, did the ships of the U. S. Sixth Fleet influence the outcome of the fourth Arab-Israeli War in 1973.
The shooting had not yet died along the banks of the Suez Canal and on the rocky wastes of the Golan Heights before analysts began to dissect and discuss the results of this, the fourth Arab-Israeli war. The October 1973 struggle called forth several questions about previously accepted military doctrine, and the so-called "lessons learned" were duly noted and published. Two of these revolved around the role of the modern foot-soldier. The accuracy and effectiveness of the portable Soviet-built Snapper and Sagger antitank missiles had restored something of a measure of equality to the infantry; thus, the prominent battlefield position which armor had occupied since the Wehrmacht devastated France in 1940 suddenly appeared much less unassailable. Similarly, the introduction of the highly mobile truck-mounted SA-6's and hand-held SA-7's demonstrated that air power can indeed be countered from the ground; ground forces now possess the capability not only to defend themselves against air attack but to greatly inhibit an enemy's employment of close-in tactical air support as well. On the other hand, proponents of air power could draw considerable comfort from the strong evidence confirming that a massive airlift capability remains a crucial weapon in a Great Power's national arsenal. The rapid resupply effort undertaken by the United States and the Soviet Union which nude it possible for the belligerents to continue fighting in the face of extremely heavy losses could not have been accomplished so quickly without aircraft. A final lesson (or, more correctly, a reassertion of a lesson from the past) was drawn from the apparent ease with which the Egyptian Army shattered the highly vaunted Bar-Lev line: static lines of defense remain extremely vulnerable.
The publicity and attention devoted to the above developments have created a tendency to sum up the entire October 1973 war solely in terms of them; from the strictly tactical/immediate theater of operations standpoint, it would not be totally incorrect to do so. If one considers the broader scope of the crisis, however, it becomes apparent that one major and extremely vital lesson has been overlooked in the headlong rush to discover the more novel and spectacular aspects of the conflict. The eventual outcome of the war, and the avoidance of direct Great Power participation in it, was brought about in part by the decisive and intelligent exercise of American sea power. Such action has been so natural in the past, so familiar and so commonplace, that no attention has been devoted to it at all. In a sense, this is entirely in keeping with historical tradition, for American disregard for sea power is not new: we have as a nation generally ignored the fact that the world’s oceans serve as platforms for national policy. For this reason, three-quarters of a century ago Mahan undertook to educate this country to the very real, yet unperceived, exercise of power by naval forces; today’s crises continue to provide further case studies which bear close scrutiny. In this regard, the October war may be seen as yet another chapter of an already bulging textbook.
To understand this latest chapter, the role played by the Sixth Fleet from mid-October 1973 to mid- December 1973 should be divided into three distinct phases. The first, best described as the "replenishment phase,” began on 15 October and continued until 25 October. Phase II, the actual crisis, was initiated by the change in LertCon status early that day, and lasted roughly until 15 November. The final, post-crisis period extended for an additional month after that, concluding about the second week of December.
At the time of the outbreak of hostilities, the Sixth Fleet’s striking force consisted of two carrier groups: the Athens-based Task Group 60.1, centered about the USS Independence (CVA-62), and Task Group 60.2, in the western Mediterranean, built around the USS Franklin D. Roosevelt (CVA-42). The first days of the war, during which the United States adopted a "wait and see” posture, saw both Arab and Israeli forces make initial advances which neither side was able to fully exploit; both sides were suffering extremely heavy materiel casualties in the fighting, especially in aircraft and armored vehicles. As the week progressed, however, and the Soviet Union undertook to replace the Arab losses with new equipment, it became apparent that without similar aid Israel would soon be fighting a tenuous campaign against steadily mounting numerical odds. Soviet four-engined turboprop transports were flying south in a constant stream, pausing only to refuel at Budapest or Prague before proceeding onward to Syria and Egypt. That weekend, the decision was made in Washington to provide Israel with the tools of war she needed to adequately defend herself. Speed was of the essence: if the American equipment was to have any effect on the outcome of the war, it was absolutely imperative that it be introduced immediately into the theater of operations. Thus U. S. Air Force C-5AS and C-l4ls would carry armor, ordnance, and repair parts directly from bases in the continental United States to Tel Aviv. To aid a beleaguered and hard-pressed Israeli Air Force, A-4s and F-4s were to be taken out of United States stock and flown to the war zone.
This solution immediately presented two problems, one general in nature, and one quite particular. The former was that of command and control: the size and complexity of the contemplated operation (formidable in and of itself) was aggravated by the fact that the aerial supply pipeline running over the Mediterranean was parallel to several thousand miles of hostile Arab airspace, and thus subject to possible attack. This called for constant monitoring and precise command and control, extending to the highest national levels, of all aircraft transiting from the Straits of Gibraltar to Israel and back. The latter problem related specifically to the logistics of ferrying the fighter aircraft. Unlike the larger C-5s and C-141s which carried sufficient fuel to fly the distance with only one intermediate stop, the Skyhawks and Phantoms needed to refuel at least three times between the United States and their ultimate destination. The logical solution, using American bases in Europe, could not be employed to support the mission. As in the 1970 Jordanian crisis, some of our NATO allies, fearing Arab reprisal in the form of oil embargoes, did not make their airfields available for the United States to land aircraft which were destined for Israel. The presence of the Sixth Fleet, however, gave U. S. policymakers an option they would not have otherwise had: the answer to both problems was resting at anchor in the ports of Europe. Thus, the replenishment phase was inaugurated.
By the evening of 15 October, the Sixth Fleet was at sea. A floating and mobile chain of communications and support had been created which extended from the guided missile frigate Harry E. Yamell (DLG-17), neat the Straits of Gibraltar, to an area 100 miles southeast of Sicily, where the Roosevelt, accompanied by the escorts Trippe (DE-1075) and Joseph Hewes (DE-1078), had taken up station. Intermediary P1RAZ (positive identification and radar advisory zone) stations between the Yamell and the Roosevelt were occupied by the escort Edward McDonnell (DE-1043) and the guided missile ship Claude V. Ricketts (DDG-5). East of the Roosevelt, the USS Dewey (DLG-14), occupying another PIRAZ station, linked the above-listed ships of TG 60.2 with the Independence task group, which was maintaining a station south of Crete. Thus, in less than 24 hours, the command and control problem had all but disappeared. Extensive and secure communications facilities were available to pass and receive information to and from the transport aircraft. The possibility of surprise attack on the transports similarly had been eliminated, for, through the naval tactical data systems' (NTDs) Link 11 and Link 14 data links, the PIRAZ ships kept constant track of all aircraft in their vicinity, including any potentially hostile air contacts. And, should the need have arisen, the forces to defend the transports were always at hand, in the missile batteries and air intercept controllers of the ships. Thus, as the C-5s and C-141s approached Gibraltar they were picked up by the Yarnell, who handed them down the long line, each ship assuming responsibility in turn until they were safely on the ground at Ben-Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv. The logistical support problem for the Phantoms and Skyhawks had also been solved. The attack carriers, American airfields in the sea, were eminently well suited to act as supply platforms for the ferrying fighters. Initially, some of the A-4s were refueled on board the USS Kennedy (CVA-67) and the rest at the Azores. The F-4s were refueled in flight over the Azores (where the C-5s and C-141s had set down for their one refueling). After refueling, some of the A-4s continued to the Roosevelt, and Independence from which, after "touching down and gassing up,” they flew on to Tel Aviv. The stated mission of the Fleet, to act in support of U. S. policy and interests in the Mediterranean area, was therefore successfully accomplished.
It is important to note that the Sixth Fleet did more in furtherance of national policy during this period than merely monitor the replenishment operation. Indeed, through its very existence and presence, it made the policy of supplying aid to Israel possible: by virtue of its forward deployed status it provided Washington with a means of attaining a desired goal which, under other circumstances, might have had to be abandoned. Had a standing American naval force of sufficient size and strength not existed in the area, the policy options (and consequent results) would have been much more severely limited. Secondly, again due to its "on-station” nature, the Fleet allowed the policy option, once decided on, to be put into effect with an absolute minimum of delay. No weeks of staging and preparation, no time-consuming negotiations for overflight rights and other privileges had to occur: the orders were given, and, within a day, had been carried out. This, too, was crucial, for, given the circumstances, the alternative to prompt action was no action at all.
By the middle of the week of 21 October the momentum on the battlefields had gradually shifted in Israel’s favor. Finally at full mobilization strength, and bolstered by the influx of American materiel, Israeli forces were advancing on both fronts. In the north, the Syrians and their Iraqi allies were being pushed back along the road to Damascus; simultaneously, Israeli troops had crossed the Suez Canal, encircling and isolating the Egyptian Third Army. A short truce failed to materialize into a cessation of hostilities. With her clients’ position deteriorating, the Soviet Union belatedly took interest in a ceasefire. In response to an Egyptian initiative, the Russians proposed the creation of a buffer zone between the belligerents: the Israeli side was to be patrolled by American troops, and the Egyptian side, by the Soviets. Moscow’s plan was not a viable one. History records that regional conflicts are not settled by an imposed truce forced on the warring parties by more powerful external states. More important, the proposal was fraught with the peril of direct Great Power involvement in the hostilities: should the truce break down, the possibility existed that American and Soviet units might be drawn inexorably into combat, with the implicit threat of escalation of a global nature. Finally, there was considerable doubt, and much negative speculation, as to the integrity of the Soviet Union’s motives for seeking to introduce Russian combat forces into the war zone. The entire idea was therefore emphatically rejected by Washington. The fighting thus continued unabated, and along the canal the Third Army was facing the very real prospect of complete annihilation within days. By 24 October, Moscow began to signal its intention to implement its half of the ceasefire proposal unilaterally, i.e., land Russian troops in Egypt for the ostensible purpose of creating a demilitarized strip and bringing the fighting to a halt. According to Time magazine of 1 July 1974, at 2125 (Washington time), the Soviet ambassador in Washington, Anatoli Dobrynin, passed a message to Secretary of State Kissinger from Chairman Brezhnev; in it, the Soviet party leader is said to have warned that if the United States would not cooperate in bringing the fighting to an immediate halt, the Soviet Union "should be faced with the necessity urgently to consider the question of taking appropriate steps unilaterally.” The Russian statement reportedly was emphasized by Soviet amphibious ships which, carrying Russian troops, began to move south from the Dardenelles towards Egypt. Additionally, seven Soviet airborne divisions in eastern Europe apparently were placed in an alert status.
Washington necessarily regarded this Soviet action in an extremely grave light. The introduction of Soviet combat forces would completely disrupt the delicate balance of power that the Super Powers had theretofore maintained in the Middle East. There was no guarantee that, rather than acting as peacemakers, the Russian forces would not add their considerable weight to their client’s cause. (On the contrary, strong indications existed that the Soviets would do exactly that.) If and when Soviet forces were actually committed to battle against the Israelis, the United States would face the agonizing decision of either abandoning Israel to whatever fate the Russians intended for her or facing a major war with the Soviet Union. The need existed, therefore, to prevent the situation from deteriorating that far by thwarting the introduction of those Soviet forces into the war zone.
Early on the morning of 25 October (Alfa time zone), the Sixth Fleet received word that Washington had placed the American Defense Establishment m DEFCON III. In the continental United States, first-line units were taking steps to insure maximum readiness, instituting recall bills, and loading and packing equipment. Much closer to the scene of action that was not necessary. The Fleet was already in peak condition; as soon as their orders were received, American naval forces in the Mediterranean were reacting to the crisis- The ships of TG 60.2 turned east at flank speed, heading for rendezvous with TG 60.1 off Crete. The Sixth Fleer flagship Little Rock (CLG-4), with Vice Admiral Daniel J. Murphy, ComSixthFleet, on board, was already in the eastern Mediterranean. A task group that had four weeks earlier been relieved as TG 60.2 was conducting an exercise in northern European waters prior to returning to the United States. Immediately redesignated as Task Group 60.3, this force, consisting of the carrier John F. Kennedy and her escorts the Dale (DLG-19), Connyngham (DDG-32), Byrd (DDG-23), Elmer Montgomery (DE-1082), Glennon (DD-840), and Sarsfield (DD-837) also turned east and passed through the Straits of Gibraltar en route to rendezvous with the other carrier groups. Having departed her East Coast home port several days earlier when the crisis began building, the helicopter carrier Iwo Jima (LPH-2), with her Marine Amphibious Unit embarked, entered the Mediterranean hard on the heels of the Kennedy group- Task Force 61, the Sixth Fleet’s amphibious arm, consisting of the command ship Mount Whitney (LCC-20), Guadalcanal (LPH-7), Austin (LPD-4), Nashville (LPD-1), Fort Snelling (LsD-30), Pensacola (LSD-38), Manitowoc (LST -1180), Sumter (LsT-1181), and Harlan County (LST-1196), sortied from Greek and Cretan harbors to form up with the rest of the Sixth Fleet, their Marine detachments on board. Thirty-six hours later and in Sea State 9 (so rough that Soviet tattletale units had to drop their pursuit of TG 60.2), the Sixth Fleet was maintaining a combat ready station south of Crete, prepared to carry out any assigned mission and, by its location, in position to interpose itself between the Soviet amphibs and the combat theater.
It would do well at this point to examine the composition and capabilities of this force so rapidly gathered off of Crete. With the bare minimum of staging time that is the hallmark of deployed naval forces, the U. S. Navy had assembled the single most potent and powerful force in the immediate area of the war zone. Its primary strike element lay in the air wings of the Independence, Roosevelt, and Kennedy, with their balanced mix of fighter and attack aircraft. Closely linked to this air superiority was the unmatched capability to intervene inland to fulfill a wide range of functions ranging from the evacuation of American citizens to whatever direct participation might be required. The ships of Task Force 61 held about 6,000 combat-ready Marines with their supporting equipment; they had the option of being placed ashore either by direct assault, via the landing craft carried in the well-decks of the LPDs, LSDs, and LSTs, or by the tactic of vertical envelopment, using the Marine CH-46 and CH-53 helicopters on board the Iwo Jima and Guadalcanal. Escort ships, all qualified in naval gunfire support procedures, were present to provide backup firepower should the need to project
Power ashore become necessary.
Primary force antiair and antiship missile defense was furnished by Combat Air Patrol (CAP) from the carriers; secondary protection was afforded by the Talos missile-equipped Little Rock, and by the medium-range Terriers of the DLGs. Localized defense capability lay in the Tartar-firing DDGs, and in the Standards and close-in Sea Sparrows of 1052-class DEs. Protection against the subsurface threat was particularly strong. All of the destroyers carried ASROC and ASW homing torpedoes; the majority of the escorts were specifically designed as antisubmarine warfare platforms, and possessed the long-range SQS-26 sonar. This capability was greatly enhanced by the SH-2 LAMPS detachments on board the McDonnell and the W. S. Sims (DE-1059), which were invaluable in over-the-horizon classification and prosecution. Additional support was furnished by Navy P-3 Orion patrol aircraft. The surface warfare aspect was more than adequately covered by the surface CAP of the carriers, the six-inch guns and Talos of the cruiser, and the Terriers, ISSMs, and five-inch guns of the missile frigates and destroyers. The essential ability to remain on station continuously was achieved through the dedicated efforts of the Sixth Fleet’s Service Force, Task Force 63. Twenty-year-old oilers worked around the clock in the time-honored routine of the underway replenishment, flanked by spanking new fast stores ships which were demonstrating their immense versatility by using their helicopters to vertically replenish food stores and supply items. In short, this was a well-balanced, multipurpose, self-sufficient force capable of fulfilling a wide range of missions, and it thus gave the U. S. government the latitude of choosing any action from a simple showing of the flag to graduated intervention.
One of the inherent beauties of naval power however, so well-illustrated throughout modern history (especially by the U. S. Navy in the Cold War era) is that, unlike any other form of military power, it can remain at a distance, unengaged, and nevertheless have a profound effect on the development of an international crisis. Essentially, this is possible due to what may be termed its "representative” role or function. A naval task force is a highly mobile symbol, an indication of the resolve and determination of a nation in its foreign policy and a clear and present expression of its willingness to exercise power to support that policy should the need arise. Following from this, it can be seen that in October 1973 the Sixth Fleet was exerting influence in two separate but inter-related planes. On the global level, the Fleet was the on-scene representative of the entire American defense establishment, the visible element of the power which, at every American installation throughout the world, was at that moment being readied to act. As such, the force off Crete was a symbol of the awesome potential of the world’s most powerful nation. On a secondary scale, the ships and men of Task Forces 60, 61, 62, 63, and 67 were symbolic of their own power and of their own position as the single most powerful military factor in the Mediterranean area. It should be noted here that the Sixth Fleet was by no means the only naval force present: some 50 to 60 units of the Soviet Navy were similarly on station in the eastern Mediterranean basin. The effectiveness of the Russian ships was, however, severely limited by the very nature of their role: the primary and overriding raison d’être of the Soviet Navy is to deny control of the seas to the Western maritime powers, specifically, the United States. It is, by virtue of its lack of aircraft carriers and their attendant tactical air support, necessarily a first-strike force, whose mission is to launch a surprise attack on an unsuspecting and unready Sixth Fleet with the intention of sinking the American CVAs; this would enable the Russians to destroy the superior strike capability of the U. S. forces before the latter are able to react. Soviet ships are good platforms for carrying out this role, but they are ill- equipped to perform the many other functions traditionally ascribed to naval forces. And, with the ships and aircraft of the Sixth Fleet operating in Condition III readiness, the possibility of a successful surprise attack and quick victory had been so substantially reduced (if not virtually eliminated) as to effectively blunt the presence of the Soviet ships.
This, then, was the situation confronting Kremlin policymakers in the wake of the American alert. It was as impossible for the Soviet leaders to disregard the seaborne signal of American resolve as it was unthinkable for their generals to further contemplate inserting forces in Egypt with the Sixth Fleet sitting firmly astride the sea and air lanes running from the eastern European staging areas to the theater of operations. The stakes had suddenly risen enormously, far exceeding those risks deemed justifiable in light of the limited gains Moscow could hope to make. Thus, the insistence on a ceasefire involving the active participation of Soviet forces was dropped, the amphibious ships halted their southerly passage, the airborne divisions remained in eastern Europe, and the door was opened for the creation of a United Nations peacekeeping force which excluded the two super powers.
The lowering of the level of Soviet-American tensions and the uneasy but effective ceasefire between the Arab states and Israel which followed several days later did not signal an end to the Sixth Fleet’s role in the Middle East crisis. Because the truce was an uneasy one which, given the all-too-volatile political climate of the Holy Land, could on short notice degenerate into renewed hostilities, the Sixth Fleet remained on station in the area, fulfilling the same basic mission which caused its sortie from European ports two weeks earlier: providing the U. S. government with the means, and therefore the ability, to implement a wide range of graduated policy options. Thus, while other American units had resumed a normal DEFCON IV status by the end of October, the Sixth Fleet continued to steam and operate at Condition III in the eastern Mediterranean.
By mid-November, with the ceasefire remaining intact and in effect, the situation in the Middle East presented all the appearances of becoming stabilized- Accordingly, Condition IV watchstanding was resumed, and the presence of TG 60.3 was no longer deemed necessary; it was dissolved, and its ships, accompanied by those elements of TF 61 due for rotation, departed the Mediterranean en route to their East Coast home ports. With the return to two on-station carriers and peacetime steaming, the crisis phase concluded. Stabilization, however, by no means insured that a real defusing process had begun and, as before, the requirement existed to have a continuous on-scene force-inbeing to cope with contingencies. This need was satisfied by maintaining one carrier task group in the vicinity of Crete at all times; a rotational cycle was set up so that while one task group was at sea, the other would be in port for a much needed rest. This arrangement endured until the second week of December, at which time Washington determined that the cease-fire was proving viable enough to permit the Sixth Fleet to return to its status quo ante bellum. The Roosevelt and her escorts thus returned to the western Mediterranean, a move which marked the end of the post-crisis phase of the Sixth Fleet’s involvement.
In recapitulating, it should be stressed, first and foremost, that the success of American policy was neither accidental nor fortuitous. It was rather the result of the intelligent exercise of naval power in precisely the manner in which naval forces should be employed. As such, it was the product of the combination of the high degree of professionalism of the U. S. Navy (itself the reward of intensive training and an easy, longstanding familiarity with the task at hand) and the keen appreciation on the part of America’s leadership of the many and varied roles which the Navy is capable of playing. In passing, it is worth noting that this last-mentioned factor is far too often taken for granted: national leaders, even in maritime states, are not always cognizant of the proper employment of naval power in the furtherance of foreign policy.
A second important lesson of the crisis is the reaffirmation of the tremendous value of maintaining regularly deployed naval forces. As was brought out rime and time again during the crisis, the forward- deployed nature and on station presence of the Sixth Fleet first created, and then preserved, a full range of policy options for Washington and, in the case of the replenishment phase, actually made a policy choice viable. Had there not been a Sixth Fleet present, the outcome might have been quite different, and far less favorable for America. It is nothing short of imperative, therefore, if the United States is going to preserve this freedom of action, this ability to be flexible in choosing among a wide range of potential courses, that a strong and consistent American naval presence be maintained m the Mediterranean and in other areas of possible international crisis.
An adjunct to the above, somewhat tangential, centers about the continued role of the aircraft carrier. The past several years have seen much controversy generated on this subject, with a fair amount having been written on the "obsolescence” of those ships. The October 1973 experience, however, starkly underscored the very real arid tangible need for the carriers. It cannot be forgotten or overlooked that so-called friendly airfields in allied countries are not always available, that twice in the past four years some airfields have been unavailable precisely when they were needed most—in a crisis situation. The United States must retain the ability to be self-reliant in the Mediterranean theater in situations short of general war, and this calls for the continued presence of aircraft carriers in the Sixth Fleet to provide both landing platforms and air support. Secondly, it was the aircraft carrier which, more than any other single factor, tipped the naval balance of power in the eastern Mediterranean in the Sixth Fleet’s favor. Their unmatched ability to establish local air superiority, conduct long-range strikes, and project power ashore was the actual vital difference between the American and Soviet fleets. Had no U. S. carriers been present, the results, again, would have been vastly different.
The above discussion of the relative strengths of the U. S. and Soviet Navies points to the final lesson of the conflict, one which is perhaps best stated as a caveat. American control of the seas can no longer be taken for granted in international affairs. The ability of the United States to act in a manner similar to last October’s may be seriously diminished in the future as Soviet naval capability continues to grow. This is especially true in light of the launching of the first Soviet aircraft carrier—which must be seen as their primary step in the development of a full-fledged Fleet Air Wing. As was noted at the outset, the modern American citizen has, by and large, remained blissfully ignorant of the importance of sea power. It was extremely fortunate for him in that ignorance that the world’s oceans were dominated first by the friendly forces of the Royal Navy, and, more recently, by our own. Except for tanker torpedoings off the East Coast and momentary invasion scares in the Pacific states in 1942, the United States has never felt the effects of a denial of the use of the seas. But the Pax Americana which reigned over the oceans beginning in 1945 is over—and a serious contender with interests antithetical to our own is mounting a powerful challenge to our ability to "go anywhere, anytime.” The American citizen and his elected representatives need to develop an increased sense of awareness on the crucial importance of this subject. If we are to continue to exercise the freedom of action of the type demonstrated 16 months ago, we must maintain a naval establishment which is literally "second to none.” Should we fail to do so, the day will inevitably come when the United States will be unable to respond adequately to a crisis, and will be forced to suffer the consequences.
Lieutenant (junior grade) Miller is a 1972 Phi Beta Kappa graduate of Williams College, where he received honors in History and highest honors in Political Science. Designated a Distinguished Naval Graduate at Officer Candidate School, he reported upon commissioning to the USS Joseph Hewes (DE-1078), and served as Communications Officer for 15 months before assuming his present duties as Antisubmarine Warfare Officer of the Hewes.