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The “SS-20” and the Erosion of U. S. Credibility in Asia
By K. Dunlop Scott
The U. S. role in the Pacific since 1945 has been to provide a framework of stability within which the nations of Asia were free to pursue their policies without interference from the Soviet Union. While China had been perceived for a considerable period to pose an extension of the Soviet threat in the Far East, U. S. policymakers have come to realize that, in the main, P.R.C. foreign policy objectives support stability throughout the region, particularly in Northeast Asia. Pursued with fits and starts and some mis- starts over the years, the U. S. objec-
tive of holding the Soviet Union in check was achieved by and large through the presence of strong conventional forces and the ever-present threat of strategic nuclear retaliation. The “nuclear umbrella” held sway in Asia during a time which saw virtually no Soviet naval presence in Asian waters, limited Soviet ground and air force deployments in Asia, and a very limited number of relatively unsophisticated Soviet tactical nuclear forces aimed at Asian targets. This was a result of the Soviets’ postwar European focus and its limited economic resources. At the same time, Soviet strategic nuclear forces were clearly inferior to U. S. forces.
The context in Asia has changed dramatically during the last decade as U. S. conventional forces have declined absolutely and relatively on every level—naval, air, and ground. Further, the U. S. tactical nuclear advantage has declined. On top of this conventional and tactical decay, Soviet central strategic systems have been significantly improved and are now at least equal to U. S. strategic forces, meaning that U. S. assurances of a strategic response in defense of regional targets are far less effective than just a decade ago.
Perhaps the single most important reason for the erosion of the U. S. nuclear umbrella in Asia has been the Soviet development and deployment of the “SS-20” intermediate-range ballistic missile system. This extremely powerful and accurate missile system gives the Soviet Union the ability to project force into a large portion of the world, and severely reduces the ability of the United States to ensure a stable political-military situation in the vast areas within the “SS-20’s” range. Ironically, while these missiles are capable of being targeted against most of the world’s major trouble spots, they are not considered “strategic” in the sense commonly used by arms negotiators, and therefore have not been subjected to any restraints on their deployment.
The missile has a range upwards of 4,400 kilometers (2,732 miles), perhaps as high as 6,000 kilometers (3,725 miles), and carries three separate 100- kiloton warheads. Completely mobile, it is launched from trucks designed to travel over normal roads, allowing the “SS-20” to be deployed virtually anywhere in the Soviet Union or Eastern Europe. Further, the missile transporter/erector/launcher (TEL) can be reloaded in about 20 minutes.
To put the “SS-20’s” payload in perspective, each warhead is about the size of the warhead used in the U. S. Poseidon submarine-launched ballistic missile. Although each “SS- 20 ’ carries only three warheads, compared with a Poseidon’s six, the "SS- 20’s' reload capability significantly increases its firepower potential. A submarine obviously would have to return to port to reload after expending her missiles. Moreover, the relatively low cost of the system means that a large number of “SS-20s” can be deployed for the price of one modern SSBN and her missiles.
The “SS-20’s” high mobility and relatively compact size make accurate verification—i.e., being accounted for by our satellites—next to impossible- “SS-20s” deployed within tall pine forests in Siberia, for example, could remain invisible for long periods since the minimal site preparation required can easily escape a satellite’s limited angle of view.
Defense Secretary Caspar Weinberger has stated that there are already more than 250 “SS-20s” deployed, and several brigades have been established in various regions of the Soviet Union. Since the missile is not covered by current arms limitation treaties or understandings, some ob-
The “SS-20” has been bin news in Europe for a long lime, but its implications to Asia promise to alter the East-West balance there.
servers expect substantially increased deployments of the “SS-20” by 1985.
While these technical attributes of foe “SS-20” are impressive, they are Overshadowed by the dramatic strategic political changes brought about by this missile. By taking full advantage of the vastness of their country, foe Soviets are now capable of Projecting force over a wide area of the world at a moment's notice. No '0nger must the Soviets endure the delays involved in the dispatch of ships, troops, or even aircraft. This tact takes on even greater importance since the Soviets can use or threaten to use the “SS-20” to intervene in crises without resorting to its central strategic systems, which would be reserved solely for use as a threat/ counterthreat on a global basis. In c°ntrast, in all areas but Europe, the United States must rely on slower, less accurate, and highly vulnerable Weapon systems for the delivery of tactical nuclear force into a region. Available U. S. systems are primarily carrier-based aircraft and, in a limited number of areas, ground-based delivery systems. None of these systems approaches the “SS-20's” range, pay- *°ad, speed, or accuracy, and therefore none poses an adequate counter t° the new Soviet system.
Particularly ominous for the Asian nations is the introduction of the “SS- into the Soviet Far East, extend- mg the “SS-20’s” reach throughout foe area. Previously, Asia had been rplatively immune to Soviet projec- *'ons of nuclear power below the strategic level, but now Japan, Korea, Uhina, and Southeast Asia, as well as key U. S. bases in the Philippines, fall "'ell within the range of the Soviet
“SS-20s.”
As a result of this increased Soviet ^capability in Asia, we are beginning to see the sort of heavy-handed Soviet saber rattling which the strategy of
DEPARTMENT OF DEFENSE
“flexible response” was designed and implemented to prevent in Western Europe. Every week Soviet military aircraft pass close enough to Japan to cause Japanese Self-Defense Force planes to scramble to intercept the Soviets. These flights have become so commonplace that they are leterred to as the “Tokyo Express” by the Japanese press. The Soviet naval presence in the region has grown significantly in absolute terms. This growth is even more dramatic in relative terms when one realizes that an already overextended Seventh Fleet has been further cannibalized to bolster a hastily assembled, major U. S. naval force in the Indian Ocean. Soviet ground forces in Asia have grown as the Soviets have fleshed out the previously skeletal divisions on the Chinese border. Soviet troop deployments in the Japanese Kurile Islands, occupied at the end ol World War II, have also increased significantly, giving serious pause to Japanese observers regarding Soviet intentions.
Much of the reason for this increased Soviet influence in Asia stems from the steady decline in the ability of the United States to respond to threats in like kind. In essence, flexible response is an option becoming less and less available to the United States in Asia. The advent ol the SS- 20” has meant that the United States is now incapable of meeting the Soviets at a very important level between that of the conventional/tactical situation and the strategic response. The result is to render highly suspect the U. S. nuclear umbrella as it relates to Japan and other Asian allies. The Soviet Union could conceivably use the “SS-20” to coerce Japan, knowing that all U. S. strategic forces were held in check by Soviet strategic missiles. The Soviets undoubtedly believe it unlikely that the United States would risk its limited strategic forces in a "local" crisis given the already dangerously low adequacy of U. S. strategic forces.
The “SS-20" was developed by the Soviets to exploit this gap between the tactical and the strategic levels, and it has had enormous influence on European politics. On the military level, the NATO nations have set about countering the “SS-20” threat in Europe by introducing the 1.000-kilometer (621-mile) range Pershing II and the ground-launched cruise missile to the theater. This move has had an important, yet highly divisive effect, as evidenced by the strong public opposition in certain European nations to these deployments. The Soviets have used the “SS-20” brilliantly to drive the wedge between the harsh military reality facing NATO and the popular perception. Unfortunately, little is being done to prevent the Soviets from driving this same wedge between the United States and its Asian allies.
As was recognized in the late 1950s, the policy of “massive retaliation” is one which carries very limited credibility—i.e.. no rational nation would respond on the strategic level to tactical moves by another. Yet. in Asia, it is precisely this policy that the United States is coming to embrace by allowing the Soviets to gain the military advantage on both the conventional and tactical nuclear levels.
The clear implication of the erosion of the U. S. nuclear umbrella over Asia is that flexible response must be applied in that region or Soviet influence in Asia will rise to dangerous levels. Now that Soviet forces are capable of threatening Asian stability at the conventional, tactical nuclear and strategic nuclear levels, strong efforts must be made to improve U. S. forces to make them capable of credibly countering a Soviet challenge at each of these levels. Particular attention must be paid to the mid-level nuclear threat posed by "SS-20” units deployed in range of Asian nations. Lacking a capable response to the “non-strategic” nuclear threats posed by the “SS-20,” Asian nations will find their ability to stand firm against
Soviet pressures seriously undercut. Without complementing efforts by the United States, the stable framework sought by the United States is in considerable danger of crumbling leaving Asian nations in serious doubt of U. S. resolve and acutely aware of Soviet capabilities. The ambiguities which are an integral part of reduced U. S. presence and capability can only force Asian nations to pay closer attention to Soviet forces stationed in the region, thereby increasing significantly Soviet influence throughout Asia.
The burden of reversing this trend on the nuclear level is on the United States. The only other allied nation with adequate economic resources, Japan, is constrained from ever possessing nuclear weapons. Fortunately, a quick and quite effective solution to the dilemma exists: Deploy sea-launched cruise missiles (SLCMs) on board U. S. naval vessels in the region. The technology exists; the missiles can be fitted in a relatively short time; and the cost of deployment is comparatively small. Most important, the effectiveness and virtual invulnerability of the cruise missile make it a formidable counter to the “SS-20.”
The U. S. Navy has submitted plans for deployment of the Tomahawk cruise missile on board its vessels, and every effort should be made to ensure that the missiles are indeed put into service at the earliest possible date. Seventh Fleet deployments of the SLCM, moreover, should be given particularly high priority so that a credible, effective U. S. counter to the “SS-20” threat in Asia is established. SLCMs would provide not only a clear signal to the Soviets that U. S. forces are adequate to respond at every level, but would also go a long way to restore among U. S. allies in Asia belief in the determination of the United States to continue to provide the framework of stability the United States has sought to ensure for so long.
Mr. Scott was a foreign service officer from 1975 to 1980, serving in Hong Kong, the Operations Center at the State Department, and in the Bureau of Politico-Military Affairs. He is now a member of an investment banking firm in New Jersey.
PHMs: Unique Ships, Unique Problems
By Lieutenant Commander Alan D. Zimm. U. S. Navy
Lieutenant Commander Linder’s September 1981 Proceedings article entitled “Pegasus: Winner or Also- ran?” discusses in a clear and workmanlike manner the limitations of the PHM—missile-armed patrol hydrofoil—as a weapons platform and the potential missions of the ship. While his arguments are valid and persuasive, they are not the issues that will make or break the hydrofoil program. The real issues are institutional, not conceptual. Can the Navy keep the PHM repaired? Can the Navy keep the PHM supplied? Can the Navy find the creativity and flexibility to use an effective PHM platform effectively?
So far the answers to these questions have been “no.” The bureaucracy designed for the big and multipurpose does not seem able to cope with the small and specialized. In spite of eight years of hydrofoil service, the U. S. Navy has no PHM doctrine or tactics; no proper PHM logistic foundation has been established; and a blizzard of bureaucratic paper has almost buried the PHM.
The Pegasus (PHM-1) was launched in 1974 as a part of the NATO hydrofoil program—a joint U. S., Italian, and West German program which eventually died. At one time, the U. S. program was also cancelled, only to be reestablished by Congress over the objections of President Jimmy Carter and his Secretary of Defense, Harold Brown. Thus were weed seeds planted in the crop.
The Pegasus remained fitted with European equipment. An Italian gun, Dutch fire control system, and German diesels and gyros are examples of the ship’s international diversity. In addition, the ship received other non-U. S. Navy standard equipment such as specialized ship service power units (SSPU), hydraulics, 400-hertz pumps, and lightweight experimental Harpoon missile installations.
Label the Pegasus “unique.”
The politics of the program were prominent. As befitting a program which was often on the brink of cancellation, the people involved with the program made every attempt to maintain a low profile. The “can-do” spirit managed to overcome problems, and it was the proud boast of the crew that, through to 1980, the Pegasus met every commitment assigned to her. The fact that quick fixes were often employed to avoid bad publicity was understandable in light of the tenuous position of the program.
No one really claimed responsibility for the Pegasus. While initially stationed on the West Coast, a move to the East Coast was always imminent. That move was delayed and rescheduled six times. It was not until June 1979 that the ship reached the fleet that was to be responsible for her development. Little had been accomplished on the West Coast, because there was a reluctance to spend money or make the hard decisions for a program that ultimately would become someone else’s asset.
One might reasonably expect that top priority would be given to developing the details of how to use this radically new platform. The Navy, however, has neither a conceptual PHM doctrine nor has it attempted PHM trials in a realistic combat environment. Why not?
First, with regard to doctrine, when the Pegasus arrived on the East Coast, the Surface Warfare Development Group (SWDG) was tasked to develop tactical memos (TacMemos) on PHM tactics. A lieutenant commander (passed over for advancement) was assigned the project. As a measure of this man’s enthusiasm f°r his assignment, he spent only about four hours during a two-day cruise on board the Pegasus working on PHM tactics. What little quality work did come out of SWDG relative to the PHM tactics was mainly the product of an outside contractor who, with ample coaching from the PHM offi' cers, managed to generate a few TacMemos. Unfortunately, the contract money ran out before any major contributions were realized.
Otherwise, progress on doctrine has been glacial. A totally inadequate over-the-horizon targeting TacMem0
has been published, mainly plagiar- >zed from submarine target motion analysis procedures and with little consideration of the unique capabilities and vulnerabilities of the PHM. A similarly derived battle group TacMemo concentrates on logistics and communications and has little to say on tactics. There is nothing on choke-point tactics, screening, PHMs operating together against individual ships or enemy surface action groups (SAGs), strategic employment, or any °f the other defined and identified PHM missions.
Although the Pegasus has participated in several fleet exercises which have included as a part of their objectives tactical trials, these have been little more than pulling out the cook- hook and chalking off the standard Battle “E” requirements. Simulated engagements between surface ships ape so limited in scope that the PHM has little opportunity to demonstrate the grand tactical advantages of superior speed. For example, in a major exercise in 1980, the engagement between two SAG groups was scheduled for all of six hours, and the forces started with a separation of only 40 nautical miles (within the Harpoon missile’s range).
We did not learn much. We discovered the need for electronic silence and to be flexible in emission policy, and that an inexperienced radar operator might mistake a PHM for a low- hying helicopter.
The PHM has participated as part °f a battle group several times and has shown capability in this area in spite of the inconvenience of daily replenishment and special communications. What have not been tried are fhe PHM’s bread-and-butter missions—choke-point operations, scout- lng, surveillance, SAG group tactics, and coordinated anti-SAG operations. To do so properly will require dedicated trials extending over several hays.
Commander Linder has correctly Identified the PHM as part of the “low mix” of the spectrum of warships. As such, the PHM’s viability as a concept ls dependent upon minimizing the cost •° maintain the system. So far, the hydrofoil has a poor record in this area because of the inability of the shore establishment to do work cheaply and efficiently, inadequate support, and dumb decisions.
A few examples will serve to demonstrate the effects that the shore establishment has had on the PHM. When a forklift owned by the PHM Mobile Logistics Support Group (MLSG) went out of commission, a civilian firm submitted a bid to make the repairs for $600. Regulations, however, required that the shore establishment’s local repair facility be used. Three weeks and $3,000. later, the forklift was back in operation.
In preparation for a regular overhaul, estimators from a Navy shipyard met with the PHM shipboard personnel to price the work which needed to be done. A few examples are: to replace five 3-inch valves would require 131 man-days; to replace two 5-inch valves would require 66 man-days; and to clean and repair seven sea chests would require 200 man-days. The shipyard was charging about 28 man-days per valve! There was nothing unusual about the jobs to justify such high prices. As a cost-effective comparison, the sea chest job was eventually completed by a small civilian shipyard at a cost of about eight man-days, which included profit.
This problem is not limited to the PHM. In fact, the entire fleet has been forced to bear the cost of inefficiency and high bureaucratic overhead. While a multimillion dollar overhaul is an expected level of overhead lor a cruiser or destroyer, it spells disaster for a small program attempting tojustify its existence by cost savings.
Not only are the shore establishment’s prices high, but we are required to play by its rules. When the time came for the Pegasus to have an experimental high-speed collision avoidance and navigation system (HICANS) installed by the Norfolk- based contractor, it seemed logical to have the work done while the Pegasus was in the Norfolk Naval Shipyard (NNSY). NNSY, however, refused to allow the HICANS contractor’s technicians to do work in the shipyard on the grounds that it would take work away from the shipyard workers—in spite of the fact that NNSY did not have the people with the skills or expertise to do the installation. Instead, the Navy had to ship everything to Key West and pay the technicians’ travel expenses and premium time to install the system there.
Additional horror stories can be related about every ship intermediate maintenance activity that the Pegasus has tried to get any work out of and the “ten man-days of paperwork to get two man-days of labor” syndrome. The point is that while the fleet is accountable for its performance, there seems to be no accountability to the fleet for the shore establishment’s performance. We can complain and file our reports, but we cannot seem to get any improvements.
Proceedings / February 1982
91
One final example will suffice to make the point that we ought to be able to sue the shore establishment for non-support. The ship has one PHM- unique gyro on board, and the Navy has one in stock. Both the gyros had seen hard use and were long overdue for overhaul at the factory in Germany. Finally, the decision was made
to send the spare off for overhaul, hoping the installed unit would survive the two months needed to complete the work. Four months later, the installed gyro died. Had the spare finished its overhaul? Apparently, through minor paperwork neglect, the Ship's Parts Control Center (SPCC) forgot to ship the gyro to Germany.
The reality is that SPCC and the Navy Supply Shore Organization deal in big numbers and big units. They do not have the flexibility to handle the small inventories of special equipment which currently characterize the PHM community. Poor spares support has resulted in downtime and several periods, extending into weeks and months, when the ship was welded to the pier for lack of spares. The fact is that the ship's deployment to Europe was cancelled because of a lack of spares—and the need for these spares had been identified as early as 1975.
The examples of the “dumb decisions’’ department are also extensive, but just one will serve to illustrate the point. The Pegasus has only one fire control system, the Signaal-built Mk- 94. It is a good system, and the American version (Mk-92) is used extensively in the fleet. Unfortunately, the Mk-94 is not the Mk-92. Parts and training are not compatible. When the technical manuals are poorly translated, the modification instructions are in Dutch, and it takes a foreign technical representative to make the repairs at $10,000 a week, it is time to replace the Mk-94 with the Mk-92.
Unfortunately, there is a money problem. While there is plenty of money to fix the beast we have, there is not one sou for buying its replacement. It is all in who controls which pot of money, the Washington gurus tell us. So, in spite of a 1976 recommendation to replace the fire control system with a standard Navy installation, there is no replacement or fix.
This decision gave us a fire control system which worked for approximately 20% of the time over two-and- one-half years.
During this period, only 25 rounds could be fired by the gun. In a recent fleet exercise, the ship had all the military capability of a 235-ton portable radio. Supply contributed to the problem with a 3-month delay in obtaining parts which Signaal had ready for delivery. The real irony, of course, is that the estimated price of repairs and downtime far exceeded the cost to replace the system.
As with anything new attempting to gain acceptance in an established organization, it takes lots of time before the “establishment” understands and adapts to the needs of the new customer.
The case of the phantom radioman (RM) is an example of how the entrenched self-interest of the bureaucracy has handicapped the development of the PHM program. Fleet exercises determined that the Pegasus needed two RMs; after a few days of constant communications, the ship had to all but shut down communications to allow a comatose Sparkey some rest. The need for another RM was endorsed by the ship and each of the squadron and battle group commanders with whom the Pegasus worked.
So, using the proper OpNavInst and the manpower change allowance forms, we sent in our request for an additional radioman. A month later we were told that a decision might be made and implemented in about two years.
We then obtained a manpower review by the Manpower and Personnel Management Information System organization. The folks there plugged the descriptions of our watch stations and planned maintenance system requirements into their computer and generated the crew requirements to man a hydrofoil. As a result, we go1 extra billets for electronics technicians and fire control technicians—but no additional RM.
What happened to the RM? Well* the PHM's required operational capabilities (ROC) and projected operational environment (POE) documents say nothing about battle group ops or 24-hour communications. According to them, the PHM is supposed to get a tailored broadcast from the shore station. However, the shore station’s ROC and POE documents do not say anything about tailored broadcasts. The shore stations refuse to make the special broadcasts because they are not manned with the personnel required for them.
The logical solution would seem to be to cut the red tape and give the PHM the second RM. The Washington solution? Washington currently has the PHM’s ROC and POE documents “under revision.” So far, no additional RM.
1 could go on at length about other Paper wars with Washington, but the bottom line should be clear by now: without shore establishment support, the hydrofoil program will not succeed. The fate of a worthwhile program is in the balance.
Author’s Footnote: As the NATO boat, the Pegasus will remain unique and the only metric ship in the fleet.
The follow-on hydrofoils will he based on English-unit standards, and will have most, if not all, of the foreign equipment replaced with U. S. equivalents. Commander Linder points out that the Hercules (PHM-2) is currently scheduled to he a test vehicle. Thus, the PHM squadron will consist of four standard hydrofoils and the Pegasus. This means that the squadron will have two different sets of everything, from training to spares. The result will he four operational hydrofoils and one oddball, which cannot help but have reliability, maintenance, and spares problems. The proper decision would be to use the Pegasus as the test vehicle and have the Hercules join the operating forces, producing a fully homogeneous squadron.
Commander Zimm recently completed a tour as the executive officer of the USS Pegasus (PHM-1). He is currently attending the U. S. Naval Postgraduate School.
Journey to a Far Sea________
By Captain William D. O'Neil. U. S. Naval Reserve
In March 1981, the USS Fairfax County (LST-1193) left her home port °f Norfolk, Virginia, without her main battery of marines and amphibious assault equipment; instead, her tank deck held a variety of special scientific equipment, and some of her troop officer staterooms had been converted to laboratories. Her course took her n°t toward her accustomed deployment areas in the Mediterranean or Caribbean, but to Northern Europe.
After a brief port visit in Scotland, the LST headed north, into the Norwegian Sea. Passing the Norwegian North Cape, she moved eastward and entered the Barents Sea. Her mission was to conduct surveillance operations through the month of April.
For many years after World War II, U. S. warships rarely visited the remote and inhospitable Barents. In the mid-1970s, however, officers of the Atlantic Fleet (LantFlt) staff realized that the Barents represented an important part of LantFlt’s assigned area of responsibility about which they simply had too little knowledge. Of course, modern technical collection systems provide masses of information on climate, oceanography, and military operations in all major ocean areas, the Barents Sea among them. But real understanding of what all this means requires actual operational experience in the area.
The real trick lay not in recognizing the operational need, but in finding a feasible way to fill it in an era when Atlantic Fleet resources were being stretched to the limit simply to meet existing commitments. Ships needed to be sent to the Barents, but Cin- CLantFlt had neither the bases in the area nor the spare mobile logistic support forces to support a normal-type deployment to the area. A solution to the problem was found by exploiting the characteristics of the Newport (LST-1179)-class tank landing ships.
These 20-knot LSTs, with their distinctive bow "horns,” have good seakeeping qualities and, without troops on board, can carry provisions and spares for long voyages. Their spacious weather and tank decks provide ample room for any necessary special equipment, and there is adequate extra berthing for operators and observ-
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many of the ships were clearly maintained. For the most part, Soviet ships’ captains behaved in courteous and businesslike manner-
ers. But most important, perhaps, the Newports’ propulsion system—six diesel engines driving two shafts—is simple, rugged, and reliable. The loss of one or two engines is not critical to safe operations. It is also extremely fuel-efficient, especially at low speeds when half or more of the engines may be shut down, thus making these LSTs among the few nonnuclear warships with the endurance to spend a month on station in the Barents without replenishment.
The first LST expedition to the Barents was mounted in the spring of 1978, with one each year being conducted since then. Each voyage has brought some surprises, but preparations have become fairly routine. Special equipment is brought on board for making environmental and operational observations. Special communications equipment is needed, too, for such extended voyages so far from any support. For example, during her month in the Arctic, the Fairfax County was in continuous, real-time communications over special circuits with her operational commander in Norfolk. Additional personnel are assigned to the ship to operate and maintain the observation and communications gear.
Much extra effort is devoted to preparing the ship for her long sojourn in some of the coldest and most storm- lashed waters in the world. Everything which can be placed below deck is. Movable gear which must remain topside—including the ship’s boats —receives special lubrication and preservative treatment and is provided with extra-strength lashings and heavy canvas covers. All running rigging is greased. Special gear and supplies for snow and ice removal are issued, including a steam lance for attacking heavy ice. Extreme cold- weather clothing and extra space heaters are needed to protect the ship’s crew.
The Barents Sea lies near the Soviet Union’s Northern Fleet bases, and the U. S. LSTs which voyage there have had good opportunities to see the Soviet fleet at work. The Soviet Navy, by the same token, has proven to be equally interested in the activities of the U. S. LSTs. and has generally kept at least one ship assigned to the
U. S. ships throughout their stays if the Barents. In prior years, these duties had been assigned to minesweep' ers and "Petya”-class light frigates- but these small ships clearly experl' enced difficulties in staying with the big LSTs in their travels through these stormy waters. In 1981. the watchdog duties fell to two “Krivak”-class frig' ates, the Doblestnyy and the RezxyS' The Rezvyy wore pennant number 958, but her mate displayed the Soviet penchant for frequent pennant-nuni' ber changes: she carried number 9(L from 2-5 April, but had number 91- when she rejoined the LST for escorting duty from 14 to 23 April- * variety of other Soviet ships joined the Fairfax County for varying periods- but the two “Krivaks” were present almost constantly. .
The units observed by the Fairf“x County showed evidence of increasing levels of professionalism within the Soviet Navy. Many examples good seamanship were seen.
but there were some instances of sniall-minded and unprofessional harassment. On a few occasions, Soviet sbips maneuvered much too close to the LST—a ship class not noted for (be ability to make rapid course changes. The two “Krivaks,” in par- hcular, frequently ran down or picked UP U. S. bathythermobuoys used for environmental monitoring and shot at weather balloons.
Some previous U. S. Navy visitors to the Barents had encountered difficulties with icing, but the Fairfax County faced nothing worse than s°me moderately heavy snow. The skies were solidly overcast for 17 of (he ship’s 30 days in the area, with six-tenths or greater cloud cover for another 7 days. Snow or rain fell on '9 of the days, and there were 4 foggy days. Temperatures were generally below freezing, although they often r°se a little above freezing during midday. The lowest temperature recorded Was 18°F. Seas ran higher than 6 feet °n eight days, reaching 35 feet on 17 April, when the LST was off North Cape. Winds were predominantly Westerly and northerly; they blew harder than 20 knots for ten days and exceeded 55 knots on two days.
The Fairfax County weathered all this with no major damage and only minor discomfort to her crew. Indeed, on several occasions the accompanying “Krivaks” appeared to be enduring much more pitching than the LST. Things, however, were not easy or pleasant for the LST s crew. Topside personnel had to wear bulky cold- weather gear, and even with it, lookouts often could stand no more than 15 minutes without an excessive loss in efficiency. A special communications van had been set on the LST s fantail, and despite special heavy- weather lifelines, it was sometimes impossible to relieve the personnel on watch for hours on end.
Obviously, these conditions were hardly ideal for boat operations, let alone rubber raft operations! Yet a group of explosive ordnance disposal (EOD) personnel, picked for their expertise with rubber raft operations, conducted dozens of launches to examine and recover interesting objects found floating in the water. The skill, fortitude, and courage required for such operations in these conditions speak for themselves. Even more remarkable in its way was the swimmer recovery of a package of spare parts air-delivered to the ship in the storm- racked waters off the North Cape. The LST’s stern gate capability was invaluable in supporting these evolutions.
Special attention had to be paid to navigation. Overcast conditions ruled out reliance on celestial navigation for the most part. Omega system fixes proved generally reliable, and a satellite navigation receiver, brought on board for the voyage, was especially valuable in maintaining a handle on the ship’s position. The steep Murman Coast provided good radar fixes to ranges well beyond 20 nautical miles. Agreement between fixes and charted positions was generally good, and the ship had no difficulty in remaining well outside the territorial waters of the Soviet Union.
A collision at sea really can ruin your entire day, especially when you are a long way from home. Soviet naval operations generate a great deal of traffic in the Barents and visibility
The Fairfax County took along her own retriever—a Zodiac rubber boat with its EDO crew, pictured coming on board through the LST’s stern gate.
is often poor, so several special precautions were taken. An imaging infrared set was borrowed from the Army and modified for shipboard operation. Despite limitations inherent in the makeshift, it proved useful in picking out and identifying ships at night and in the frequently encountered hazy and foggy conditions.
A closed-circuit TV camera was mounted to look astern, with a display in the pilothouse. This enabled the officer of the deck to monitor goings- on off his stern without suiting up to go out on the bridge wings. The capability was particularly valuable because the shadowing “Krivaks” showed a fondness for trailing along astern of the Fairfax County.
The expedition delivered huge quantities of data on the Barents Sea, and those who participated gained a greater understanding of the area. Some of the meteorological data have already been summarized. Many bathythermograph casts were made to improve knowledge of the sound conditions, showing these waters to be generally isothermal with a temperature just above 0°C. Much information was gathered on radio and sonar propagation.
Soviet naval operations in the LST’s vicinity were observed with interest. The Northern Fleet clearly was carrying out a vigorous program of exercises, warming up after the rigors of an arctic winter. There were many Soviet naval exercises, including weapons firings. At one point, a cruiser conducted such a realistic fire drill that the Fairfax County's crew thought at first that it must be the real thing, and dashed over to the Soviet ship to lend assistance! Another day. the LST’s crew had a ringside seat for what seemed to be a major convoy exercise, with 20 or more amphibious ships and escorts apparently beating off submarine attacks.
Like previous LSTs voyaging to the Barents, the Fairfax County successfully accomplished her mission of extending and demonstrating the U. S. Navy’s global reach. U. S. men-of- war can be expected back in the Barents, and throughout the high seas, as often as needs dictate and resources permit.
Authors Note: This article was pH" pared with the cooperation oj the Commander in Chief U. S. Atlantic Fleet, and his staff, who graciously arranged the interviews and provided the official reports upon which it lS based. The views expressed and the interpretations made here are those of the author, however, and should not be taken as official.
A Ready Reservist assigned to CinCLantFlt Naval Reserve Detachment 206 in Washing10”' D.C.. Captain O'Neil is Director of Naval Warfare in the Office of the Under Secretary of De' fense for Research and Engineering. He has written widely on naval warfare and technology:/1 series of his articles is currently appearing 111 Military Science ami Technology.
Taking a Cue from Q-charts___________
By Lieutenant Commander Ronald Fraser. U.S. Coast Guard Reserve
Traditional organization charts, those time-honored road maps as dear to maritime managers as the mercator projection is to the naval navigator, are both widely applied, yet under utilized. Every naval unit has at least one. But. with their equal-sized boxes (the commanding officer sometimes rates a slightly larger box), existing organization charts can only show lines of authority and hierarchical relationships among look-alike subunits.
It is possible, however, to convert the traditional organization chart into a versatile management and analytical tool by simply replacing the look-alike boxes with ones reflecting each subunit’s relative size. Practically any data can be used—from billet assignments to reenlistment rates per subunit to budget figures—depending on the manager’s needs. And a series of charts can be prepared for study or display in reports and briefings.
While traditional charts provide only a primitive skeletal framework, quantitative organization charts (Q- charts) can add another dimension by portraying the often lopsided distribution of resources within a particular organization.
For example, Q-charts were used by the head of the Fifth Coast Guard District’s Reserve Division in planning a recent realignment of reserve forces in the Baltimore, Maryland, area. Q-charts helped him to visually assess proposed shifts in enlisted and officer manpower resources, and to compare proposed subunit missions with available personnel.
One objective of the reserve realignment was to create an organization more closely paralleling the regular Coast Guard’s structure, with
Detachment Detachment
Cove Point Potomac Rivet
which the reservists most frequently train and work. This called for shift* in structure and personnel, and as the plans evolved, the Q-charts readily recorded these changes.
sions among subunits required further study. (See Figure 2.)
On the two-dimensional chart, the vertical axis of each subunit measures the number of officers, and the horizontal axis measures the number of enlisted members assigned.
The regular Coast Guard’s custom °f placing a relatively large number of operating functions and people within •ts Marine Safety Offices is reflected •n the massive reserve group staff in Figure 2. Following further consideration of the structure that would best serve the program’s needs, the more traditional staff and line organization used throughout most of the service was factored into the organization plan. This change is represented in Figure 3, the final organization plan. A third Marine Safety Detachment was created to take over most of the operating tasks and assigned technical personnel originally slated for the group staff. The slimmed-down group staff retained the administrative and coordination functions usually associated with a staff unit, in addition to a few small operating tasks.
This experience demonstrates how Q-charts can make better use of existing information by placing that information into the familiar organization chart framework.
Looking to the future, this innovative technique can be put to good use anywhere in the maritime community.
A few well-targeted Q-charts can give progressive managers, from shipboard division heads to fleet commanders, a new, sometimes surprising, perspective of his or her own organizational terrain. Why not give it a try the next time you are called upon to brief your boss on what is going on in your work unit? Chances are it will permanently change the way you and your boss look at organization charts and your organization.
Commander Fraser is currently on active duty as a planner in the Military Readiness Division at Coast Guard Headquarters.
The U.S.S.R. Polar Fleet—Recent Acquisitions
By Rear Admiral N. C. Venzke, U. S. Coast Guard
In recent years, considerable attention has been focused on the Soviet Union’s naval and merchant marine shipbuilding programs. However, one category of the latter, that of icebreakers and other specialized polar vessels, seems to have been neglected. The numbers of ships in this category and the modern technology used in them have had an impact on the Soviet Union’s overall building programs and should be examined for what they could mean to the Soviet Union and the West.
From 1974 to 1982, 18 icebreakers, 5 ice-strengthened salvage vessels, and 1 ice-strengthened research vessel were built for the Soviets for operations along the Northern Sea route and in the Soviet Union’s harbors and rivers. Two of the icebreakers, the nuclear-powered Arctica and Siberia, along with the research vessel (name unknown), were built in the Soviet Union. The remainder of the ships were built in Finland by the Oy Wart- sila Ab Helsinki and Turku ship yards.
The acquisition of these ships continues. On 3 April 1980, the Soviet Union ordered three more icebreakers from Wartsila. These are reportedly of an entirely new type, designed for operations in the Barents Sea, the Sea of Okhotsk, and the Baltic. They will be propelled by a geared diesel plant driving twin controllable-pitch propellers (CPP). The use of CPP in these new ships is a departure from previous Wartsila icebreaker designs which only used diesel electric plants driving fixed-pitch propellers.
In December 1980, a contract was signed in Moscow between V/O Su- doimport and Wartsila for seven river icebreakers to be delivered during 1983-84. These icebreakers will have extremely shallow drafts and are designed for operations in Siberia. They are expected to extend significantly the present four- to six-month operating season. They will have a diesel electric AC/DC plant. Also, the Soviet Union has ordered six icebreaking multipurpose ships from Wartsila and three from Valmet, another Finnish shipyard, for delivery in 1982-83- These are not icebreakers per se; instead, they will be employed for transporting general cargo, rolling cargo, containers, grain, coal, or ore. Re' portedly, they will be built to the highest ice-class standards under Soviet Union rules and will be capable of in'
Icebreakers!Ice-Reinforced Ships Ordered from Wartsila by the Soviet Union Since 1974
Name | Length feet | Beam feet | Draft feet | Propulsion! SHP (Shaft Horsepower) | Type | Date of Delivery^ |
Ermak | 442.9 | 85.3 | 36.1 | de/36,000 | Polar | 1974 |
Admiral Makarov | n | II | n | ll | ll | 1975 |
Krasin | it | II | " | II | " | 1976 |
Kapitan M. Izmaylov | 185.4 | 52.5 | 13.8 | de/3,400 | Harbor | 1976 |
Kapitan Kosolapov | II | " | " | " | ll | 1976 |
Kapitan A. Radzhabov | II | II | " | " | ll | 1976 |
Kapitan Chechkin | 254.6 | 53.5 | 10.7 | de/4,490 | River | 1977 |
Kapitan Plahin | II | " | II | II | II | 1977 |
Kapitan Chadaev | II | n | II | II | " | 1978 |
Kapitan Krutov | II | " | II | " | ll | 1978 |
Kapitan Bukaev | II | " | II | II | II | 1978 |
Kapitan Zarubin | II | II | II | ll | ll | 1978 |
Kapitan Sorokin | 432.8 | 86.9 | 27.9 | de/22,000 | Polar | 1977 |
Kapitan Nikolaev | " | " | II | " | " | 1978 |
Kapitan Dranitsyn | II | " | It | II | ll | 1980 |
Kapitan Khlebnikov | II | II | II | n | ll | 1981 |
Stroptivy | 238.5 | 59.1 | 21.3 | gd/CPP/7,600 | Salvage | 1979 |
Spravedlivy | II | II | II | II | 1980 | |
Stakhanovets | " | II | " | " | " | 1980 |
Suvorovets | " | " | II | II | « | 1980 |
Sibirskty | II | II | " | " | " | 1980 |
6 Multipurpose Vessels' | 510.9 | 80.4 | 29.5 | gd/CPP/2 | Cargo | 1982-83 |
3 Icebreaker series ordered 3 April 1980 | 283.5 | 68.2 | 19.7 | gd/CPP/10,000 | Baltic | 1982-83 |
7 Icebreaker series ordered December 1980 | 252.0 | 54.5 | 8.2 | de/5,170 | River | 1983-84 |
Notes: de = diesel electric; gd/CPP = geared diesel/controllable-pitch propeller; 'three ships of the same class have been ordered fron1 Valmet; ’21,000 engine horsepower.
dependent operations in Arctic ice. This series will be propelled by a dieSel plant driving one CPP through a hydraulic coupling and gear system.
V/O Sudoimport has ordered nine a'r-cushion vehicles (ACVs) from Wartsila for delivery in 1982-1983. They will be used in conjunction with the nine multipurpose vessels for cargo transfer in the Arctic. Each ACV has a load capacity of 38 tons.
Forty-eight icebreakers and ice- reinforced ships were built by Wart- S|la for domestic service in Finland or were purchased by the Soviet Union, Argentina, the Federal Republic of Germany, and Sweden during the period 1954 to 1981. Basic details of the Finnish-built Soviet ships addressed here, with the exception of the research ship and the nuclear-powered •cebreakers, are listed in Table I.
. I had the opportunity to observe Rebreaking operations while on board the Finnish Baltic icebreaker Ur ho on the Gulf of Bothnia and in the lake icebreaker Ale on Lake Vattern Sweden. Both of these icebreakers, built by Wartsila, incorporated many of the features of icebreakers ordered by the Soviet Union. In addition, 1 embarked in the Kapitan Nikolaev during her two-day sea trials in light ice prior to her delivery to the Soviet Union, and
I visited Kapitan Chechkin while dockside. I concluded that the quantity of the U.S.S.R. polar fleet expansion is matched by the high quality of its acquisitions.
Admiral Venzke. the first commanding officer of the USCGC Polar Star (WAGB-IO), is the Commander of the Second Coast Guard District.
The BB(V)___________
Joseph C. Antoniotti
In recent months, a great deal of Publicity has been given to the reactivation of the four /owa-class battleships. It appears now that at least two battleships (New Jersey [BB-62] and Iowa [BB-61D will return to active service, and the prospects for the °ther two (Missouri [BB-63] and Wisconsin [BB-64]) coming back seem good.
When the first two BBs return they will look very much like the way they Aid when they were decommissioned. When they return from their first modernization after recommissioning, they might look and be quite different. A series of proposed design modifi- entions could eventually change all Ihe low as into BB(V)s (battleship, WSTOL landing support).
Using this concept, the lowas w°uld be more than battleships; they could be the ideal combination of naval gun and missile firepower with the best attributes of a V/STOL ship all enclosed in the most survivable hull design yet built.
There were three primary reasons for the demise of the battleships as a class of operational vessels in the post-World War II era.
► The main armament was inadequate
against aircraft and missiles. I he battleships could not bring their guns to bear against ships or shore targets at long enough ranges.
► The ships lacked sufficient onboard antiaircraft firepower and had no real long-range antiair capability. They were difficult to defend and contributed little in the way of offensive punch.
► The crew sizes required to man the ships were considered excessive for
vessels with their “limited” utility.
Another contributor to the battleships’ fall from favor was the impressive performance of carrier-borne aircraft both in World War II and during the Korean conflict as compared with the perceived limited utility of the battleships.
Using the New Jersey as she existed during htir last activation (1968-69) as a starting point, OP-03 has proposed a two-phase concept for the reactivation of the lowas. Phase I (which was described by S. L. Morison’s August 1981 Proceedings feature, “The Facts Behind the Thunder,” pages 98-101) will significantly upgrade the first two ships (New Jersey and Iowa). The addition of Tomahawk missiles gives the battleships offensive reach. The Harpoon missiles provide the BBs with additional antiship
capability. And the ships’ 16-inch guns remain impressive weapons for engagement of both ship and shore targets. Improvements to the ammunition available for these guns may allow the range of the 16-inch round to be greater than 30 nautical miles and simultaneously provide it with a significant increase in gunnery system utility and lethality.
If approved for reactivation, the two remaining /owa-class ships, the Wisconsin and the Missouri, could be converted directly into the BB(V) configuration during their precommissioning yard work. The Iowa and the New Jersey could be converted during their first overhauls, after several years at sea. The Phase II conversion would encompass a radical redesign of the after portion of the ship.
The modifications which could be included in this work are:
► Removal of the #3 16-inch turret, including barbettes and handling machinery
► Addition of an elevated A-shaped ski-jump V/STOL flight deck with hangar facilities and as many as three elevators
► Installation of vertical launching system (VLS) magazine with up to 320 VLS cells
► The replacement of the remaining 5 in./38 cal. mounts with 5 in./54 cal. Mk-45 mounts capable of firing the 5- inch semiactive laser-guided projectile
► An Aegis-type combat system.
The addition of the ski-jump flight
platform and the VLS magazine will remove the factors which limited the usefulness of the post-World War II battleship. Long-range antiair capability will be available and manpowerintensive weapons will be replaced.
Early figures indicate that the weight and balance condition of the original Iowas will essentially remain unchanged. Additional weight required for aviation-related hardware (oxygen and nitrogen generators, aviation fuel storage, etc.) will keep the ships’ total displacement at the before-conversion total.
The VLS will be capable of firing many different types of missiles, including: Standard Missile, ASROC, Harpoon, Tomahawk, and probably design variants of the Army’s Patriot air defense missile. Aside from the versatility this weapon mix provides, the BB(V) has a VLS 320-cell capacity, more than the Ticonderoga (CG- 47)-class cruiser, which is programmed to be the Navy’s principal missile-carrying ship.
In addition to the reconfiguration work already described, a significant amount of analysis should be conducted to determine what less-visible improvements are necessary to increase the ships’ probability of survival in actual combat. Technology recently developed for new weapon systems may be readily adaptable to battleship applications. While updating each of the ships’ systems to today’s technology may not be possible, areas such as gunnery fire direction and damage control may benefit significantly from today’s systems.
The deletion of a large number of manpower-intensive weapons from the vessel allows the crew size to be significantly reduced. During World War II, the New Jersey required a crew of 117 officers and 1,804 enlisted men. During her Vietnam deployment, this total was reduced to 70 officers and 1,556 enlisted men because of reduced operational requirements and the absence of light air-defense weapons and floatplanes. In the Phase II BB(V) configuration, the crew size may be as low as 70 officers and 1,200 enlisted men, with an additional 350- 400 officers and enlisted men for aviation crew and maintenance. Space on board is also available for 200 flag and staff personnel and, when required, a Marine Corps landing force of about 500.
If the ships are reactivated, more or less in pairs, it would be possible to schedule the activation dates of the Wisconsin and the Missouri to coincide with the first yard overhauls of the New Jersey and the Iowa. In this way, the crews from the two ships about to undergo refits could be transferred, as units, to man the two Phase II ships ready for commissioning. By using this manning scheme, it would be possible to hold the manpower requirements of the BBs to less than 3,000 personnel for at least five years- By that time, the manpower crisis of today may well be solved.
With this two-phase introduction of the renovated Iowas, the fleet would have the benefit of additional capital ships long before new construction could be available. The four BB(V)s could be available prior to 1990, thus permitting the Navy to reduce the workload now placed on the carriers- In areas of the world where a carrief is not an absolute requirement, a BB(V) could well serve as the capital ship in a surface action group or as the primary support for amphibious warfare operations. These ships would also play an important role if areas where the United States must show the flag. The day of the battle' ship is not yet past.
A U. S. Army veteran. Mr. Antoniotti has served as an officer in many field artillery assignments and has been a military operations research analyst for the Directorate of Combat Developments at the U. S. Army's Field Artillery School- He is specializing in systems analysis of precision-guided munitions and command-and-con- trol systems.
Shiphandling and Piloting Training Ohio Style
By Captain Theodore F. Davis, U. S. Navy (Retired)
“All stop! Right 25° rudder! All back one-third!” With just three more commands, maybe only two, the Ohio (SSBN-726) would be safely alongside her assigned pier in Groton, Connecticut. It would not be that easy a landing for officers with little or no experience in this size ship, or for those involved in many months of shipbuilding.
Add to rusty shiphandling and piloting skills the fact that no one had eyer handled the O/u'o-class subma- r'ne before, and the obvious need for training emerges. Trident systems management personnel recognized that sea trials were not the time or Place to hold bumper drills, so they contracted with the Maritime Administration for the use of its Computer Aided Operational Research Facility (CAORF) at the U. S. Merchant Marine Academy, Kings Point, New 'fork, for shiphandling and piloting training of Ohio crews.
The U. S. Navy provided the Oliio- olass ship characteristics for use in the CAORF computer. Ship Analytics of hlorth Stonington, Connecticut, provided the Thames River to Fisher Island geometry, topography, and nav- •gational aid locations which allowed cAORF’s computer to generate the imagery duplicating what Ohio crews '''ill experience on their first voyage.
Ship Analytics then wrote a detailed training program that gave Ohio coning officers the opportunity to maneuver the ship at sea and in the chan- neb and to make landings at Electric ®°at Company or the Naval Underwater Systems Center (NUSC) across the Thames River. The program described each training scenario with diagrams. It discussed shiphandling, single-screw behavior, and the predicted peculiarities of the Ohio class as derived from model trials. Advance, transfer, stopping distances at various speeds, and casualty procedures were covered. Comparisons of turning responses in deep and shallow Water provided an appreciation of bot- t°m effect. Bank suction and bow Wave became vital factors to consider when transiting a narrow channel.
. Among the many handouts included m the training program book were:
Piloting Considerations for Conning Officers,” “Accuracy of Radar
Fixes,” “Interpretation of the Radar Picture,” “Rules for Mental Calculations for the Closest Point of Approach,” "Use of the Radian Rule,” and “Speed, Time, and Distance Thumb Rules.” Such information is easily forgotten while building a ship, but once under way in restricted waters and close to other ships, these skills must be razor sharp.
CAORF provided the training as research to determine training device design characteristics.
Upon arrival at the Kings Point Research Facility, the participants were briefed on the training program and facility features. The training book described in detail each scenario. The first run had the conning officer approach and enter a 600-foot wide channel with buoys marking the entrance. Approaches were made from different angles and at varying speeds. Once the Ohio was steadied in the channel, the officer of the deck was required to make a 40° course change to the right at the second set of buoys. These runs were designed to give the conning officers an appreciation of the ship’s size, momentum, and turning characteristics. Even though initial speeds were 8, 10, or 12 knots, there were no smooth turns on the first lew attempts, and the participants gained an early appreciation for controlling their new hull.
Next, each officer made a slalom run avoiding six different types of ships which were dead in the water and 1,000 yards apart. The final ship was taken to starboard as the Ohio entered the Thames River Channel. The scenario took place from Race Rock to the channel entrance. Whereas the first scenario was conducted with only six buoys as references, this scenario included all landmarks and navigational aids, plus the six ships. Despite this complete picture, it was difficult to weave smoothly through the line of contacts and to enter the channel. As in skiing, one poor maneuver affected the entire run. The Ohio's hull stability became evident. It took at least 15° rudder to get the ship swinging smartly. When the rudder was placed amidships, the bow steadied immediately. When not shiphandling, observers acted as helmsmen and engine order telegraph operators and attended slide presentations on the rules of the road and radar plotting.
The piloting team, which consisted of three senior quartermasters and three operations specialists, was identifying the landmarks and navigational aids, both visually and on radar. They took bearings, plotted fixes, organized procedures, and became familiar with their surroundings.
The next step of the training was to
conduct a smooth landing alongside a pier. Each officer was to make a starboard-side landing at Electric Boat Company and then get under way, followed by a portside landing at NUSC and getting under way from NUSC. Tugs were used. The Electric Boat Company landing entailed a course change of about 60°; NUSC required a 90° turn.
With a channel width of 200 feet and a ship's length of nearly 600 feet, the stern bears close scrutiny at all times. A situation display in CAORF’s pilothouse provided this information to the navigator who, in turn, advised the bridge. A smooth turn from the center of the channel kept the stern clear of piers and shallow water. By the end of the training the landings were smooth and well controlled.
The tugs provided good tug control experience but at the expense of ship control practice. Future courses will stress ship control with tugs reserved for emergencies or for getting under way. Tug-handling procedures and signals were included in the program material.
The second day started with some repeat shiphandling runs and soon shifted to scenarios which exercised the conning officers’ shiphandling in emergency situations while close to other ships. The first run was under conditions of unrestricted visibility and involved losing and restoring propulsion in the channel while coping with the Orient Point ferry and a fishing boat. The conning officer continued on and moored at NUSC.
The second run began in the channel in haze, with a visibility of about 2,000 yards, diminishing to 1,500 yards. The ferry, instead of overtaking, presented a head-to-head situation. Jammed rudder casualties while navigating with radar gave the conning officers and piloting team their first real workouts. The third run of this scenario began east of Race Rock and proceeded to New London in one- mile visibility with a containership, ferry, and fishing boat complicating the picture. These runs provided experience in evaluating traffic situations and handling emergencies. They also provided a good warm-up for the piloting runs to come. Decreased visibility created some confusion; the piloting team members discovered that they were in for a thorough workout.
The three runs that followed were designed to exercise the piloting team’s ability to navigate accurately in restricted waters at night and in fog while beset with currents and contacts. The first run started in the channel in good visibility with three contacts, and proceeded toward Race Rock. The following two runs began east of Race Rock in poor visibility and included three or four contacts as the Ohio proceeded to Groton.
Two crews, blue and gold, commanding officers, executive officers, and navigators, in addition to six conning officers and one piloting team were trained in two days. This schedule did not permit enough hands-on training. The consensus of the participants was that it would be better to have two days’ training for each crew of six officers and the piloting team-
All training scenarios were realistic and uncomplicated. There were no surprises. All contact movements, casualties, and currents were prebriefed. Training for the Ohio was based on a set of specific objectives to achieve the level of confidence required by the Navy to operate a new class ship on her first critical sea trials. The newly trained Ohio crews departed with greater confidence in their shiphandling and piloting capabilities.
Gains for future operation of Navy shiphandling training were realized through the use of the CAORF data base which was established during the conduct of these training exercises. This data base will be used in the definition of the design characteristics of future shiphandling simulators for commercial and Navy applications.
Captain Davis retired from the Navy in 1975. He is a consultant for shiphandling and piloting training for CAORF and private industry.
Castro and the Soviets: Pals to What End?
By Lynn-Darrell Bender
The Soviet Union has not been blind to Cuba’s potential for the furtherance of Soviet foreign policy and military objectives. Cuban territory is now available to the Soviets for docking facilities, satellite-tracking stations, electronic intelligence-gathering installations, the refueling of reconnaissance flights, and the servicing of submarines at Cienfuegos. Moreover, it provides a geographic location from which the Soviets can counter the U. S. forward base strategy in other areas of the globe by challenging the hitherto absolute supremacy of the United States in the Caribbean.
The issue of Cuba’s willingness to lend its territory to the Soviet Union for strategic purposes was supposedly settled in the aftermath of the Missile
Crisis of 1962. It ended with a Soviet pledge not to reintroduce any offensive weapon systems into Cuba. However, the Soviets were not about to sit still. In 1969, they made their first naval visit to Cuba, which was followed periodically by others. The gradual buildup was clearly a maneuver to calm U. S. anxiety about Soviet inroads into the strategically sensitive Cuban basin. A crucial juncture was reached in 1970 when the United States later uncovered evidence of Soviet naval base construction in the vicinity of Cienfuegos on Cuba’s southern coast. At this point, the United States finally insisted upon talks with the Soviets to clarify the meaning of the 1962 accord. In hindsight. however, it appears that the alleged new “understandings” between the two countries only served as a convenient pretext for U. S. inaction- In reality, there has never been any clearly understood agreement between the United States and the Soviet Union regarding Cuban and Soviet strategic purposes in the Caribbean—a dangerous situation indeed- The nub of the problem centers upon defining exactly what is meant by “offensive weapons system.” The definition changes with time, usually through a unilateral declaration by the United States in response to some Soviet initiative. Therefore, it is not certain that both countries know the limits beyond which the Soviet Union’s use of Cuba might provoke another grave confrontation. This has given the Soviets ample freedom to probe—i.e., make naval visits every
Every now and again, Fidel Castro goes to Moscow on a friendly visit, as he did in February 1981, and every now and again, a squadron of Soviet warships makes a friendly visit to Havana harbor.
6 months (20 in the last decade), use Cienfuegos, supply front-line MiG-23 aircraft to the Cuban Air Force, and station on a permanent basis a combat brigade and thousands of military ad- yisers in Cuba. The United States obJects, but in every case has backed down or tacitly accepted Soviet actions. The Soviet naval and military Presence in the Caribbean is now a fQit accompli.
However, it may well be very prudent not to exaggerate the potential °f this threat, for Fidel Castro’s control of Cuban politics has placed a definite limit on the Soviet Union’s ability to use Cuba strictly for its own Purposes. Castro has long recognized fhat his personal power and author- 'ty—-as well as Cuba’s independence—depend largely upon the opportunities open to him for uutonomous action. He has thus far managed to achieve this autonomy by combining his own unmatched power base with a talent for modifying Cuban support of the Soviet Union on given ideological, tactical, and party issues to suit Cuban interests. Even so, in lbe past few years, the two countries have, by mutual consent, established their closest association ever, and it seems reasonable to assume that the Soviets now enjoy even greater influence and leverage over Cuba’s behavior. The risk for Castro in the growing Cuban-Soviet intimacy is the possibility of losing his ability to maneuver.
Meanwhile, there is no question that Cuba has become the Soviet Union's most loyal friend in the de- yeloping world—a friend that almost without reservation supports the So- yiet position in international affairs. Certainly, President Ronald Reagan seems to think so, judging by his direct references to Cuban-Soviet support for insurgency in Central America and the Caribbean as prime examples of an “international terrorism” that must be resisted at all costs. Therefore, whatever benefits there might be for the United States to move toward some type of rapprochement with Cuba are once again buried under the sands of shifting political events. It also means little hope for any major change in the familiar adversary pattern of U. S.-Cuban relations that has existed practically since the advent of the Castro regime.
Cuba’s ideological and material support for struggles of national liberation has been a consistent goal of Castro’s foreign policy. What makes it more worrisome now are changes in the international environment and the Soviet Union’s willingness to assist in some of Cuba’s major exploits. True, Cuba’s efforts to exert more influence in the immediate Caribbean area are severely limited by the proximity of U. S. power. However, Cuba can pass Soviet-supplied arms to insurgent groups or “progressive governments in the region under the banner of socialist internationalism.
This has encouraged the Reagan Administration to view Castro as the Soviet Union’s puppet by allowing Cuba to become a Soviet proxy in overseas adventures. Even so, as long as many in the Third World are prepared to see Castro’s support of national liberation movements as a legitimate and worthy enterprise, the Reagan Administration will make little headway in attempting to discredit him as merely a Soviet stooge. Such accusations may well enlist support in the United States, but will have little effect on Cuba’s capacity or will to persist in its endeavors overseas. Unless the United States is prepared to take military action against Cuba under the risk of Soviet intervention, there is little the Reagan Administration can do to prevent Cuba from adopting policies that coincidentally promote Soviet strategic interests.
It is not beyond the realm of possibility, however, that Castro may soon realize that accommodation with the United States is his only alternative for retaining Cuba’s true independence. It would also enhance his reputation as a Third World leader. Thus, whatever qualms the Reagan Administration might have about contributing to Castro’s respectability, any specific Cuban actions must be assessed against the risks involved in waiting to deal with some other person or government in Cuba. After all, Castro is probably the only Cuban who could conceivably come to some agreement with the United States without seeming to betray his people’s revolution. A turn toward the United States would not automatically trigger Cuba’s desovietization. Such a result, however, could become a more realistic hope once the process begins.
Like all new beginnings in politics, there must be encouragement and the political will to disengage from prior attitudes and policies. This means that no change will take place until the United States chooses to adopt some alternative to a policy of unmitigated hostility toward Cuba. Without it, there is little to impede Cuba from slipping even further under the Soviet boot.
Dr. Bender is a professor of political science at the Inter American University, San Juan. Puerto Rico. His most recent book is entitled Cnbn v.v. U. S.: The Politics of Hostility (San Juan, Puerto Rico: Inter American University Press. 1981).