Professional Notes

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Recent naval operations in the Persian Gulf have exposed U. S. forces to an old ^tactical situation with a new twist. Today ^a uiajor threat to Navy ships is attack by ^Srr>all, fast craft. Attacks may come from ^SrUall boats armed with guns and/or anti­^Surface missiles, or from boat-bombs, ^Sthall craft loaded with explosives that ^are sailed into their targets during kami­kaze-type missions.

Small craft are difficult targets to ac- ^Uire, and their quickness and maneuver- ubility can complicate fire-control solu- ^tlons, if not make them impossible. The ^s,nal 1-craft threat must be met with a ^suiall-craft defense; in short, the role of ^small craft in U. S. naval operations ^suould be reevaluated.

•n peacetime, the U. S. Navy has ^hown little interest in small combatants. ⁿ fact, the Navy retired most of its patrol G'aft after the end of the Vietnam War. be Naval Reserve operates most of hose remaining in service.¹

The fleet’s h'gh degree of technology ^Can pose an economic disadvantage in ^fending against small-boat attacks, hiall craft have the potential to sting, but he Navy cannot afford to expend its most Advanced weaponry against every such ^at[ack. A more cost-effective approach jy*^ay be to team small patrol craft with helicopters to protect the fleet in situa- hons such as those found in the Persian Gulf. Employing patrol craft would also decrease the number of flight hours and he amount of required maintenance for 'he helicopters now patrolling with frig­^ates in the area.²

With the exception of Bahrain, Persian Gulf nations do not want U. S. naval °^rces operating from their territories, because the facilities in Bahrain are too jhriall to support U. S. forces in the Gulf, he Navy uses barges for storing supplies ^ahd equipment. ³ A network of patrol boat P'ekets could provide the primary secu- ^r"y for these barges or for ships with lim­bed armament while they are in coastal h'sters. The patrol boats would free the ^r,gates now used in security roles for ^escort duty, the duty for which they were built.⁴ The fact that many Third World countries use small craft effectively for coastal defense is evidence that these boats are useful for fleet security.⁵

The firepower on a patrol boat could consist of . 50-caliber or 20-mm. guns along with mortars.⁶ Each boat would be assigned a sector to patrol. Using look­outs and possibly surface-search radar, these pickets would monitor all traffic in their sectors. Helicopter and ship-based radar could aid the pickets in detecting incoming threats and vector the patrol boats to attacking vessels. At night, the helicopters would play an even more vital role.⁷

Using the system of vector logic, a pa­trol boat could engage a threat and the

remaining pickets would rotate to fill the vacancy left by the engaging craft. If equipped with surface-search radar, the ship or platform being guarded could serve as the command post, tracking all of the pickets and directing them accord­ing to the situation. Patrol boats, helicop­ters, and the host ship could communi­cate using ultra-high frequency radio.

The picket boats should be relatively small, but still large enough to handle open water and rough seas, because draft restrictions may require the platform needing protection to remain far from shore. The pickets should be able to func­tion under worse conditions than the threat craft can handle. (If conditions are bad enough to affect the picket’s capabil­ities, they should be bad enough to pro-

This Navy Mk-III, patrolling in the Persian Gulf, may be the best defense against the major threat of Iranian gunboats (inset). But num­bers are a big factor: the Iranians have lots and the U. S. Navy doesn’t. In 1987, the Navy sent six Mk-IIIs to the Gulf.

hibit an attack.) Selecting larger pickets sacrifices some speed and maneuverabil­ity, but with enough pickets on station, using vector logic, this problem can be overcome.

The Navy already has some patrol craft

that are suited for this type of picket duty: ► Three PB Mk-IVs—These are slightly enlarged variants of the PB Mk-III series. Completed in 1986, they were intended for patrol operations in the Panama Canal Zone. The Mk-IVs are 68 feet long and have a speed of 26 knots. They are armed with one 25-mm. Mk-88 gun, one 20­mm. antiaircraft gun, one 81-mm. mortar/12.7-mm. machine gun, and two 40-mm. Mk-19 grenade launchers.

► 17 PB Mk-IIIs—These boats are 64

Suicidal Boat and Robot Craft Attacks

By Steven M. Shaker

Deliberately killing oneself while crashing a bomb-laden vehicle into an enemy target is a mode of warfare alien to U. S. doctrine and morality. In 1983, however, when a suicidal driver slammed his truck, carrying the equivalent of 12,000 pounds of TNT, into the Marine compound in Beirut, Americans learned that kamikaze-type tactics are still quite acceptable to others. More recently, the Iranians have made threats, broadcast over Tehran radio, that “martyrdom-seeking” volunteers have been practicing sui­cide missions on dummy enemy ships in their recent ma­neuvers, and that their naval forces are fully prepared to take action against the United States. Such threats have to be taken quite seriously.

The Iranians have already proved their ability to expend hundreds of thousands of lives in suicidal clashes on the Iraqi front. Iranian mullahs have used that country s youth to detonate minefields and to absorb, in mad charges, the initial shock of artillery and machine gun fire. In light of this, it is surprising to note that the Iranians also have shown considerable interest in robotic vehicles, including unmanned remotely piloted aircraft and naval craft.

In early August 1987, Iranian radio broadcasts on their “martyrdom” naval exercises described the rehearsal of attacks on U. S. naval ships with remote-controlled boats packed with explosives. One such unmanned boat was ac­tually rammed into a “dummy” hypothetical enemy tar­get. The United Arab Emirates’ newspaper Al Khaleej warned on 14 August 1987 that small, booby-trapped boats operated by remote control may be deployed in in­ternational waters outside the Strait of Hormuz. Such pro­nouncements raise the question: Why would a nation that willingly sacrifices hundreds of thousands of men in suici­dal assaults on the Iraqi front be interested in unmanned boats? Apparently, it would be easier to use a bomb-laden motorboat piloted by a Shiite seeking martyrdom, than to use a roootic vessel outfitted with sophisticated automatic navigation or remote-control apparatus. Either martyrdom is not as appealing as it once was, or else the Iranians believe that remote-controlled boats can perform certain missions more effectively than manned systems.

The Iranians are equipped with the necessary weapons and technology to pursue both suicidal and remote- controlled boat attacks. They have thousands of motor­boats ranging from Boston whalers to high-speed boats, including, perhaps, 40 Swedish-made Boghammer 12.8- meter craft. Boghammers can reach speeds up to 50 knots. They can carry 990 pounds of explosives, and their crews can launch attacks with recoilless rifles and RPG-7 rocket launchers.

There are two major manufacturers of remote-controlled motorboats. The Italian firm Meteor builds the Excalibur boat. The high-speed, 31.9-foot Meteor can travel at nearly 40 knots and can carry an explosive payload of 2,200 pounds. The British firm Flight Refueling Ltd. man­ufactures the 28-foot Seaflash Series 300 remote-controlle boat, capable of more than 30 knots. Both boats are rad'⁰ controlled. However, Meteor’s Aldebaron system ^a*^s° gives it a preprogrammed guidance and control capability- Iran may have purchased remote-controlled boats for ^usS as targets prior to the revolution. If the Iranians have not acquired Western-manufactured craft, they appear to have the technology to drone their own. Iran is reportedly mass-producing remotely piloted vehicles (RPVs) design by Isfahan University’s research center. The Iraqis claim that they downed an Iranian RPV near Basra last year. 1° October 1987, however, Moseyn Dehgan, Deputy Com­mander of the Iranian Guards Corps Air Force, stated in ^a radio interview that Iran began constructing reconnaissance

remotely piloted aircraft in 1986, and that they would enter service in the near future.

Whether or not the RPVs have been fielded, such tech­nology can also be adapted to boats. The Iranian officim news agency reported that a student recruit with the Is­lamic Revolutionary Guards Corps had developed a hoW zer, which—fired by remote control—is more accurate than a manned equivalent. The howitzer has been success fully tested in the southern sector of the Iranian front, an may soon go into mass production. The weapon can be remotely loaded, aimed, and fired. It can also be carried on a remote-controlled boat.

The appearance of suicidal and remote-controlled boats in the Persian Gulf is not a first. As early as the 1860s, the Austrians experimented with an unmanned explosive boat that was guided from a distance by lines attached to its rudder. During World War I, the Royal Italian Navy

*1/12-feet long and can make 26 knots. *^le'^r armament includes one 40-mm. ^antiaircraft Mk-3 gun or one 20-mm. or 'win 25-mm. antiaircraft Mk-88 gun, °^Ur machine guns, and one 81- or 60­^1111,1 ■ niortar. The Mk-IIIs can be rigged to carry mines, torpedoes, or minesweep­ing gear, and can be fitted with four Pen­guin surface-to-surface missiles.

► Two PB Mk-Is—The Mk-Is differ slightly from the Mk-III class. They are 65 feet long and can carry a twin .50- caliber machine gun, one 81-mm. mortar Mk-2/one .50-caliber M2 machine gun, and several .30-caliber machine guns. The Mk-Is have a speed of 26 knots.⁹

These three classes in the current Navy inventory include only 22 craft and re-

a squadron of manned explosive motorboats, from

proached at 50 to 100 yards to the rear, backing up the others. Once on target, the motorboats would drop depth charges on a four-second fuze as close as possible to the target ship’s most vulnerable areas: amidships, below the stacks, or at the stem to damage propellers and rudders. If time permitted, the motorboats would veer sharply away to prepare for another attack.

The Germans developed a combined manned-unmanned attack technique that included two one-man explosive­carrying boats and a two-man control boat. The team would approach a target at night at slow speed to avoid detection, with the explosive-carrying boats in the lead. Several hundred yards from target, the craft increased to full speed. At 100 yards from target, the pilots of the ex­plosive-carrying boats tripped switches that turned over their craft to radio guidance by the control boat, and then jumped overboard. When the boats struck, a small charge blew off their bow, priming the fuze of the main, stem- mounted charge. As in the Italian tactic, the charge would explode several seconds later below the target’s bottom, where it would do the most damage.

The U. S. Navy’s response to such attacks can best be explained by quoting a Commander-in-Chief, Pacific- Commander-in-Chief Pacific Ocean Areas Bulletin 126-45, dated May 1945 and entitled, U. S. Navy Countermea­sures To Explosive Motorboats. It stated:

“Small boat attacks can be expected wherever there is enemy held territory nearby which can shelter and hide the craft. . . . Many attacks have occurred at night, especially between the hours of 2400 and 0400. Experience has demonstrated the wisdom of having vis­ual lookouts, searchlights, and machine gun batteries fully manned during these hours. . . . Limitations of train and depression of armament on most vessels have made it necessary to have patrols equipped with small arms for firing on approaching small craft. ... In pre­paring such defenses, however, it has been necessary to caution personnel against illuminating and shooting into friendly ships/boats. Battle experience has shown that suicide boats rarely are detected by radar, as a re­sult of their low freeboard and small size. There have been instances of a few being picked up by sound gear. ... The combination of a small blip on the radar and high-speed screws on the sound gear may, to­gether, foretell the approach of this craft.”

A careful look at past suicide and remote-controlled boats and the U. S. Navy tactics and weaponry directed against them may just help today’s Navy cope with its current operational situation in the Gulf.

Mr. Shaker is a defense consultant specializing in advanced weapon concepts and future warfare. He is a frequent contributor to National Defense magazine and the Journal of Defense and Diplomacy, among others. His first book, War Without Men, was published by Pergamon-Brassey’s International Defense Publish­ers in 1987.

^which the pilot and crew tried to bail out, often unsuc- ^cessfu 11y, prior to the explosive contact.

In this same period, the Germans built 17 electrically ^°ntrolled motorboats for coastal defense. These 42-foot ^ernlenkbootens (remote-controlled boats) or FL-7s were Peered through cables by operators situated in 100-foot ^0vvers located on the coastline. The FL-7s could reach ^Peeds of 30 knots and had enough fuel to travel for six . °^Urs, but were restricted by the operator’s limited visibil- "y. Eventually, the Germans used seaplanes to signal jy°re operators about maneuvering the FL-7s, thus dou- 'ⁿg their range. Each FL-7 carried up to 450 pounds of ^Plosives, which, in theory, detonated upon contact. The ^erman destroyer T-146 was eventually configured to han- ^e the boats by cable, thus eliminating the need for the ^sh°re stations.

Some German writers credit the remote-controlled boats sinking a number of Allied ships during World ,^ar E But official Allied reports only credit the FL-7s '^Vl'h destroying a shoreline British observation post and '^Vlth slightly damaging the British monitor Erebus.

During World War II, explosive-laden boats had a much j^ater impact. Japanese, German, and Italian suicide °^a's damaged or destroyed numerous naval and commer- p^lal ships. In March 1941, Italian motorboats at Suda Bay, ^re'e, rammed the British cruiser HMS York, holing the '''arship so badly that she had to be scuttled. In August ^y44, German motorboats crashed into the British mine- keeper HMS Gairsay and the U. S. landing craft LCG- ***• sinking both. In 1945, Japanese motorboats sank or . ^arnaged three U. S. destroyers, more than a dozen land- ^lrig craft, and numerous cargo vessels.

Historically, motorboat attacks have come singly, in k>all numbers, and in mass sorties. Individual boats may ⁰⁶ able to avoid detection best, but if the element of sur- H'se is lost, mass attack offers the greatest odds of sue- ^ssfully reaching a target. In World War II, for example, Italians would send a “boat bomb” on a collision ^c°urse with the target. The pilot, wearing a frogman’s ^Sl*it, would lock the rudder and throttle up to maximum ^sP^eed. At 100 yards, he would trip a lever ditching him ^lnt0 the water. When the boat struck the target vessel, a ^tall impact-fuzed charge set centrally around the motor- °^at’s hull broke the craft apart. The forepart of the boat k°uld sink to a pre-set depth, according to the estimated ^raft of the target ship, where hydrostatic pressure would ^r,gger the main charge.

The Japanese, on the other hand, often attacked in mass ^s°rtie formations, with squadrons of 40 to 50 boats. The ^S()Uadron commander and pilot, in the commander’s boat, ⁰¹¹ Id bring up the rear, observe the attacks, and help i°^ver with heavy machine gun fire. After his men at- ^acked, the Japanese commander would then direct his boat into the target. Another Japanese tactic involved ^t'^ree motorboats that would attack a target at about 20 ^ots, to its port and starboard sides, while a third ap­

had

fleet the current low level of interest the Navy now invests in this type of small combatant.

Another source of patrol boats is the Coast Guard, which uses several types of patrol craft for maritime law enforce­ment. The Coast Guard patrol boat’s mis­sion is similar to that of a picket vessel. Cutters, for example, chase and appre­hend drug smugglers, who often operate in small, fast boats. Therefore, not only Coast Guard boats but also experienced Coast Guard personnel could be valuable in countering the small-boat threat.

The Coast Guard has approximately 72 patrol craft suitable for patrol as picket boats:

►  Three Seabird-class surface effect ship cutters—The Seabirds are 110 feet long, are capable of 33 knots (while on cushion in sea state 0), and carry two .50-caliber machine guns.

►  16 Island-class cutters—The Coast Guard’s newest cutters are 109 feet long and can make about 26 knots. They carry one 20-mm. Mk-16, two .50-caliber M60 machine guns, and two 40-mm. Mk-19 grenade launchers. These cutters also have the SPS-64(V) surface search/ navigational radar. Additional hulls are being added at a rate of one every 45 days and will total 37 units.

►  53 Point-class cutters—These craft are 83 feet long and have a speed of about 23 knots. They are armed with two .50- caliber machine guns, and some carry two 40-mm. Mk-19 grenade launchers. These cutters also have the SPS-64(V) radar.¹⁰

Recently, the Defense Department considered sending Coast Guard patrol craft to the Persian Gulf. Despite support from the Coast Guard, however, the idea was rejected. The decision, though, does not rule out the possibility of the Coast Guard’s future participation in the Gulf.

A third source of picket craft could be found in dock landing ships (LSDs).¹¹ These ships transport smaller craft, like mechanized landing craft (LCMs). LCMs range from 56 to 74 feet in length.¹² They carry vehicles, cargo, and troops and do not have any weapons; however, provi­sions were made in their design for .50- caliber machine gun mounts. Mortars also could be placed on board the LCMs.¹³ LCMs are slow craft, capable of only 10-12 knots, a limitation that de­creases their usefulness for this mission significantly.¹⁴ But using the vector logic system and increasing the numbers used in an operation can make up for their lack of speed.

Depending upon the class, an LSD can handle from 9 to 21 LCMs. LSDs also have a helicopter landing deck capability and surface search radars, which can be used to locate dangerous craft.¹⁵ In addi­tion, the LSD’s docking well can be used to support and maintain the patrol craft, either LCMs or other patrol vessels. Some of the smaller patrol boats men­tioned earlier can be transported within an LSD’s docking well or lifted on deck by on-board cranes.¹⁶ There are also other amphibious ships that could be used to transport patrol boats over long dis­tances.

Unquestionably, the U. S. Navy ¹⁵ capable of projecting great amounts o power anywhere in the world. Yet. *n some scenarios, small-scale threats nugⁿ be handled more efficiently by down scaled U. S. forces, freeing the Navy* larger units to perform the tasks for whic they were designed. The potential role ⁰ coastal patrol craft for fleet security should be seriously considered, ^cSP^e dally in the Persian Gulf.

'Norman Polmar, The Ships and Aircraft of the U- * Fleet, 14th Edition (Annapolis, MD: Naval Instil" Press, 1987), pp. 216-17.

²Lt. Thomas W. Strothers, USN, personal intervte 10 and 13 November 1987, Annapolis, MD.

’John Kifner, “Navy Job in Gulf: A Difficult M¹ sion,” The New York Times, 7 October 198"-

A14.                                                                              a for

^JJohn Cushman, "Coast Guard Duty Planneu Gulf,” The New York Times, 7 October 198 - A14.              „ „ S.

⁵D. Simcox, “The Regional Coast Guards, ^u' ^ Naval Institute Proceedings, July 1985. pp- ⁴⁴' .■ ⁶R. K. Fickett. “A Defense Against Boat-Bom U. S. Naval Institute Proceedings, September 1

pp. 118-20.

⁷Lt. Strothers, interview.                                          m

⁸A. D. Baker, Combat Fleets of the World, 198 _ (Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press, 19 p. 748.

"Polmar, p. 228.

¹⁰Ibid., pp. 543-45.

"Lt. Strothers, interview.

¹²Polmar, pp. 215-16. ^l3Lt. Strothers, interview. ^uPolmar, pp. 215-16.

‘-'Ibid.

¹⁶Lt. Strothers, interview.

Midshipman Darlak will graduate from the U- ^ Naval Academy in 1990. He is studying mecln®^ engineering and plans to select nuclear power serve in the submarine force.

Ops Analysis: Just ‘Quantitative Common Sense’

By Commander Bruce R. Linder, U. S. Navy

On 24 July 1987, a thunderous explo­sion rumbled across the placid water of the sultry Persian Gulf, as an ancient mine blew a ten-by-five-foot hole in the hull of the reflagged tanker, the Bridge­ton. The 401,382 deadweight-ton ship shuddered, yawed sharply, and then drunkenly swung back again. The Bridgeton's three naval escorts sprinted in behind her, buying some time to assess the damage and the immediate threat. The convoy reported its situation, and flash-precedence radio messages began to provide additional details to naval com­mand centers worldwide and, soon after, to the National Command Authorities.

The immediate crisis passed quickly, but shockwaves from the incident contin­ued to travel through the Navy’s infra­structure. What minesweeping capability

should the U. S. Navy maintain? Can or should the United States depend on its allies in future minesweeping situations? What options exist to reenergize the sur­face minesweeping force in the near or long term? And what are the costs in­volved?

These and other questions flooded the Navy decision-making apparatus in Washington and at field headquarters sites. Decision makers sought clear, criti­cal information to help formulate opera­tional alternatives, as they sorted through many proposals and counterproposals.

At the vortex of the controversy, Navy operations analysts—active-duty naval officers trained in the operations analysis (OA) subspecialty—on major headquar­ters staffs provided proposals, options, and recommendations based both on ana-

lid

lytical studies and on information cu from the Navy’s minesweeping and N

operations experts. Using the tools ot ^

ops analysis trade, Navy leaders ^c°^u . focus quickly and intently on the situate at hand. The result: a major turning P⁰¹ in U. S. Navy policy.   f

The Navy’s OA subspecialty is one the most important shapers of day-t°' . naval policy at the highest levels of d^e^ sion making. It also ranks among ¹ . least understood of the mainstream r"¹'¹ officer subspecialty disciplines. Ev^£ ^ one knows what an ASW subspecialis*

Litim⁶

the Navy does. Most officers can out

what oceanography subspecialists

do-

But when it comes to OA, or “operatt¹

research” or “systems analysis,"

ol>^s

many

probably draw a blank—or worse

conclude only that it has something to

do

ship or fleet operations. In fact, OA °^es have something to do with fleet op- cations, but the in-depth analysis of nose operations is but one of a myriad of •sciplines under its umbrella.

A textbook definition of systems anal­^ysis might read: “tne application of the ^Sc'entific method to problems of choice 'a order to create an objective, open, ex- Mcit, verifiable, and self-correcting Process.”¹ Former Defense Secretary °bert McNamara offered a more down- a~earth explanation of systems analysis: Quantitative common sense.” The naval ^ar>alyst must blend the scientific method ^lnt° the decision-making process both for ^saccessful military operations and effi- ^C|ent military acquisition.²

Naval ops analysts serve on virtually ^eVery major naval staff and hold increas- ‘ⁿgly important positions in Navy pro­C^am planning, joint staff planning, and ^efense acquisition. Daily decisions ^ased on the results of OA investigations °^r reviews affect today’s naval operations are shaping the U. S. Navy of the '990s.

The OA Community: The Office of pj^avy Program Planning (OP-08) on the /fice of the Chief of Naval Operation’s ,'UpNav’s) staff has three divisions, each ^6aded by a rear admiral: the General

Planning and Programming Division (OP-80); the Program Resource Ap­praisal Division (OP-81); and the Fiscal Management Division (OP-82). OP-08, headed by a vice admiral, has primary responsibility for integrating planning, programming, budgeting, and appraisal within OpNav, and for ensuring adequate program development to support Navy plans. With the help of systems analysis, OP-08 tackles one of the toughest prob­lems in defense planning—maintaining the proper balance between the resource requirements of Navy force structure, modernization plans, combat readiness, and warfare sustainability. OP-08 also manages the development and execution of the Navy’s budget, produces the Navy’s Five-Year Plan, and focuses on extended Navy planning options for the next decade. The office answers ques­tions about program affordability, mili­tary usefulness, and cost effectiveness and, ultimately, paints much of the land­scape required to fit diverse projects into the overall Navy program.

Weapon system effectiveness and the broad scope of naval war-fighting capa­bility concern another major group of ops analysts on the OpNav staff that works for the Deputy Chief of Naval Opera­tions, Naval Warfare (OP-07), a vice admiral. The primary responsibility of

U. S. NAVY (J. ELLIOTT)

Explosive situations like those in the Persian Gulf can flood Navy decision makers in a sea of options, with both immediate and long-term effects. Operations analysts work the puzzle to pull acquisitions, operations, and policies together.

OP-07 is to coordinate planning and re­quirements for fleet readiness, moderni­zation, and force levels needed to con­duct tactical warfare. Individual divisions within OP-07 are devoted to ASW, anti­air warfare, electronic warfare, strike and amphibious warfare, and tactical readi­ness and force-level plans.

War-gaming, always an important tool in warfare analysis, is taking on an in­creasingly influential role in decision making. Using advances in computer- supported war-gaming, analysts test cur­rent plans and new concepts under multi­ple combat scenarios. In addition to gauging fighting proficiency, the games also account for real-world factors that may constrain or shape any potential con­flict, such as ordnance expenditure rates, logistic logjams, and system “up time.”

Individual ops analyst billets can be found in most of the other major OpNav staff offices, most notably in areas in­volving weapon system evaluation, pro­gram development, or program budget­ing. Throughout the Navy, approxi­mately 300 subspecialty-coded officer billets require OA education or experi­ence. Of this number:

► 43% are located in the Washington, D. C., area, concentrated in OP-08, OP- 07, and the Deputy Chief of Naval Oper­ations for Plans, Policy, and Operations [OP-06]; at the Center for Naval Analy­ses [CNA]; in the Office of the Secretary of the Navy; in the Organization of the Joint Chiefs of Staff; in the Office of the Secretary of Defense; and at the Navy Center for Cost Analysis.

► 28% are fleet/operational staff billets (including carrier, submarine, and cruiser-destroyer groups, and destroyer squadrons as well as type commander, fleet and Commander-in-Chief headquar­ters staffs). These billets are generally >ⁿ support of operations and plans require^­ments or are specifically identified as tac­tical or readiness analyst positions.

►  20% are field activity billets.

►  9% are teaching billets.

CNA, a privately run but federally funded “think tank,” studies current Navy and Marine Corps issues and injects important recommendations and advice

Naval Analysis Through the Years

—Commander Bruce R. Linder, U. S. Navy

tems (in other words, “cost-effectiveness”).

Formalizing and managing these new innovations brought to national notoriety a large number of competent specialists in mathematics, operations research, and sys­tems analysis. Using their new analytical techniques, these McNamara “Whiz Kids” began to dominate the manage­ment of defense acquisition programs from the Office of the Secretary of Defense (OSD). Their impact was pro­found and long lasting, and the purveyor of the powerful tool of system analysis was propelled dramatically into the limelight.

To respond appropriately to this changing environment within the Defense Department, the Navy also turned to systems analysis to help structure its programs. In 1966, the Navy established the Systems Analysis Division (OP- 96) in the Office of the Chief of Naval Operations (OpNav). OP-96 and OP-90 (a new office formed to deal with the Navy’s budget within the PPBS system) quickly centralized the Navy’s in-house analytic capability and al­lowed the Navy to match the evolving analysis process within OSD.

OP-96’s first director was Rear Admiral Elmo Zumwalt- Admiral Zumwalt described the essence of his position on the OpNav headquarters staff as “carefully weighing the probable effectiveness of various kinds of ships and weap­ons against their costs and the time it would take to de­velop, build, and deploy them . . . and then deciding which ones to invest in.”³ Even today, no more concise description exists of the primary actions of OA within the Pentagon decision-making apparatus.

Under Admiral Zumwalt, OP-96 initiated studies that eventually led to the USS Spruance (DD-963)-class de­stroyer, the Harpoon antiship missile, and the Trident sub­marine, and, to a large extent, carved out the place in the OpNav organization that systems analysis now fills.

OP-96 (now renamed the Program Resource Appraisal Division, OP-81) can boast two Chiefs of Naval Opera­tions among its list of former directors that, in addition to Admiral Zumwalt, has included Admiral Carlisle A. H. Trost, Admiral Harry Train, and Admiral Stansfield Turner. OP-81 continues to serve as one of the leading centers of OA advocacy within the Navy.

*Cdr. Bradley A. Fiske, USN, “The Naval Profession,” The Proceedings of the U. S. Naval Institute, June 1907, pp. 475-578.

²Bill Lindsay, “WWII Operations Research Recalled,” Phalanx, February 1981, p. 10.

³Adm. Elmo R. Zumwalt, USN, On Watch (New York: Quadrangle,

1976), p. 65.                    -

U. S. naval analysis can be traced, some say, to Admi­ral Bradley A. Fiske, a distinguished and revolutionary naval officer of the pre-World War I period. In voluminous writings, Fiske introduced mathematical rigor and the ana­lytical approach to a host of naval tactical scenarios. His analysis of possible fleet engagements included the innova­tive step of adjusting various battle variables (such as ship speed, armor, battle range, and gun caliber) in his calcu­lations to study optimum ship placement in the battle line.¹

The father of the modern-day style of military opera­tional analysis was the British Nobel Prize winner and physicist P. M. S. Blackett. In the early days of World War II, Blackett headed an elite group of scientists, brought together at the Royal Air Force Fighter Command to help the military make the best use of new technolo­gies, including radar.

Following Blackett's lead, U. S. wartime operations re­search soon combined, for the first time, civilian academic expertise with the operational experience of the military professional in a “think tank” environment. This injection of talent and scientific method produced significant accom­plishments, which included the successful introduction of aircraft into ASW missions, the optimization of the con­voy escort force, and the creation of the first operational test and evaluation group.

One wartime recommendation, for example, changed settings for depth charges to a more shallow depth, in­creasing the damage to enemy submarines by a factor of three. Another OA investigation discovered that Japanese antiaircraft fire was relatively ineffective at 9,000 to 10,000 feet, and the resulting change in tactics reduced U. S. aircraft losses significantly.² The important suc­cesses of OA in the heady days of World War II laid the foundation of today’s analytic community and defined the broad areas of naval analysis that dominate the profession today: weapon system effectiveness, force/tactical use, and operational testing.

Military operations analysis received its next big boost in the 1960s. During the Kennedy administration, Secre­tary of Defense Robert McNamara brought to Washington a new management and analysis rigor founded on systems analysis techniques and, in the process, reformed the De­fense Department’s acquisition and budgeting process.

Chief among his innovations were the introduction of the Planning-Programming-Budgeting System (PPBS), which linked near- and long-term military programs with the reality of corresponding available resources; and the injection of systems analysis into the evaluation of weapon system effectiveness. This process would balance the mili­tary effectiveness of any weapon system against both its cost and the comparative effectiveness of alternative sys­

■fectly into the Washington policy­making apparatus. CNA also serves as ’ne central “headquarters” for more than 0 civilian analysts assigned as field rep­^resentatives to Navy commands world- ^w'de, providing fleet commanders timely ^0r>-scene analytic resources.

OA billets are distributed among the ,^Various officer career specialties as fol­lows:

* Generalist—31%

' Surface line—20% f Aviation communities—18%

' Submarine—4%

► Supply---- 5%

r Restricted line—4%

I’ Any warfare—18% f these billet requirements, command- hold 40%, lieutenant commanders captains 13%, and lieutenants 8%. As with most Navy subspecialties, the A community requires either a graduate Jjegree or a significant level of experience ^0r formal designation as an OA subspe- m'alist. Undergraduate exposure to OA is ■tnited with few OA majors offered at American universities. Although the ■ S. Naval Academy does provide some ^‘^ementary OA instruction, it does not ^ave an OA major, identifying OA sim- ?v ^as an elective concentration area for ^lts mathematics major.³

The Naval Postgraduate School in ^onterey, California, however, has long ^een a national leader in postgraduate Operations analysis studies, offering an A curriculum since 1951. The Post­graduate School shares with Columbia diversity the distinction of being the ^lrst school in the country to institute ^graduate OA academic programs.

The two-year Naval Postgraduate ^chool degree program leads to a fully Credited master of science degree in operations research and formal designa- !°ⁿ as a Navy OA subspecialist. The cur- hculum is interdisciplinary, consisting of ^eourse work in statistics, mathematics, Physical science, economics, human en­tering, and computer science. It has Produced for the Navy a steady flow of Voung, educated military ops analysts, J^ho have gone directly into operational Piets, technical management assign­ments, and policy-making support posi- hons.⁴

. OA in Operation: Among the most "Pportant attributes of professional naval °P^S analysts are their abilities to focus Sickly on the objectives of the question * hand, select the prime criteria for mea- ^Surernent, and identify competitive alter­atives. But systems analysis theory must ^e viewed in perspective and should not ^e seen as an end in itself. It has its weak-

nesses and limitations.

The most critical—and, perhaps, least understood—limitation in OA is the frag­ile connection between the highly quanti­fiable factors (governed by mathematical rigor and formula) and the resoundingly unquantifiable multitude of factors, which taken together are necessary to make that “right” decision. For every potential decision, the match between the quantifiable and unquantifiable is differ­ent; and for every project, the analyst must come to grips with this bridge be­tween the qualitative and the intangible.

It is possible to reduce many of the fac­tors in military operations to numerical values. Doing so formulates problems that can have definite solutions. Further­more, many decisions do swing on the critical injection of conclusions founded on statistics, cost profiles, or historic trends. But not all decisions can be han­dled like this—perhaps not even most.

Much more common is a decision­making environment shrouded in uncer­tainty, in which an elegant statistical analysis may be only one of several fac­tors that must be weighed in order to ar­rive at a valid “bottom-line” recommen­dation. Knowledge of the limitations of analysis and the location of analytical “blind spots” or compromises are as val­uable in this environment as any other factor. OA cannot be seen as an Oracle at Delphi, for it almost always operates in the gray world of differing perceptions and opinions.

The degree of operational experience and technical competence of both the analyst and his audience are the most important additional elements in the ops analysis equation. Such experience guides the analyst in his choice of study criteria, which ensures that his product is operationally meaningful and factually based. In other words, operational expe­rience provides the proper “perspective” for analysis.

The decision maker’s level of opera­tional experience, which enables him to understand the validity of the different recommendations or options posed by the analyst, is also a key item in an analysis project. In the truest sense, the proper function of OA is not to present ready­made decisions, but to lay out the essen­tial factors of the problem. It is the pre­rogative and responsibility of the decision maker to use his experience and judg­ment, bom of years of study and, per­haps, derived from the practical experi­ence of war, to arrive at the best decision.⁵

This basic tenet of OA—that analysis provides the foundation upon which sound decisions can be made only if it is used in conjunction with large doses of professional experience and judgment— has been one of the first principles ig­nored by those who would like everyone to believe that important truths somehow flow spontaneously from the mere pres­ence of a study. All too often, shallow analysis—grounded in questionable as­sumptions or shabby models but cloaked in the systems analysis mantle—has been used as a means to condemn the judgment of defense planners. Self-professed “ex­perts” with limited operational experi­ence then provide persuasive “analysis” at odds, many times, with reasoned, bal­anced defense decisions.

The result, frequently, is a complicated drama—often played out in the media— where one “study” is pitted against an­other, each advocating different paths to be followed and each brandishing “im­peccable” systems analysis credentials. The lay person can be faced with an ago­nizing choice of whom to believe. The resolution: look first for operational ex­perience. In most cases, the lack of valid operational experience on the part of the analysis team is the litmus test to identify less-worthy analysis.

If there is one primary feature in effec­tive naval ops analysis today it is this synergistic combination of OA theory with appropriate military experience and judgment. Naval officers who have both analysis and professional credentials are the ones providing those studies that have the greatest impact. Ops analysis can do—and is doing—much to put the Navy on the best possible footing to face any future challenge. It helps the Navy to adopt better weapon systems, organize its available forces, plan better tactics, make best use of its manpower, support re­quirements, and eliminate obsolescences. More than any other comparable “com­munity,” naval ops analysts are at the Navy’s most important “decision flow points”—day in and day out.

‘Samuel F. Tucker, A Modern Design for Defense Decision: A McNamara-Hitch-Enthoven Anthology (Washington, DC: Industrial College of the Armed Forces Press, 1966), p. 139.

²C. H. Waddington, OR in World War II (London: Elek Press, 1973), p. i.

³W- Charles Mylander, “Operations Analysis at the U. S. Naval Academy,” Phalanx, June 1987, pp. 4-

Curriculum guides. Operations Analysis, Naval Postgraduate School.

⁵Naval Operations Analysis, p. 4.

Commander Linder, a frequent contributor to the Proceedings, is a surface warfare officer with experi­ence in Pacific Fleet cruisers, destroyers, and frig­ates. He is currently serving as the Navy’s Federal Executive Fellow at the Brookings Institution in Washington, DC.

By Lieutenant Commander Gary A. Peterson, U. S, Navy

The Viking’s Destiny?

accurately, but it can return to the with discrete latitude and longitudes each mine. Unfortunately, with its

The Lockheed S-3A Viking, conceived as the antisubmarine warfare replacement for the venerable Grumman S-2 Tracker, has blossomed in its ability to conduct multiple carrier missions, and with this unique versatility has become indispensa­ble to effective battle group operations. But what about the future? Will the Vi­king be replaced by a different generation aircraft? Will it suffer operational degra­dation because of insufficient airframes, or will the Viking and its derivatives con­tinue to be vital players during the transi­tion period to new-technology carrier air­craft? The S-3 Viking and the carrier air wing are passing a crossroads where a decision is being made for its future em­ployment, whether or not it is intentional.

S-3 A Mission Effectiveness: In its pri­mary warfare area of ASW, the S-3A,

• using a quantum leap in technology ac­quired during a time when submarine development was experiencing a similar growth, demonstrates consistently that it can provide offensive ASW to the carrier battle group for the type of submarine threat that it was designed to strike. With the OL-82 computer processor, a crew of four can use the latest software and acoustic algorithms to detect and track increasingly quieter submarines. With its improved computerized radar and elec­tronic support measure (ESM) suites, the S-3A can readily detect surfaced and snorkeling submarines even during mini­mum exposed-mast cycles or adverse sea states. It can loiter many hours on station at great distances from the carrier and can exploit its multiple sensors to detect, track, and strike enemy submarines be­fore they penetrate the battle group’s outer ASW screen. The S-3A’s current vulnerabilities against the newest classes of submarines do not lie in aircraft range or in on-station time, but rather in exist­ing acoustic processor limitations. The aircraft remains well suited to its ASW mission.

In the antisurface warfare (ASUW) theater, where accurate targeting is the most difficult tactical problem to solve, the S-3A plays a supporting role. During peacetime and initial periods of hostili­ties, it is an optimum platform for obtain­ing a real-time surface picture and visual identification of contacts through the use of its radar, ESM, and forward looking infrared radar (FLIR) system. Its long- range Navy tactical data system and Link-4 capabilities make the S-3A a per­fect choice to work passively with the E-2C Hawkeye. However, one of the S-3A’s liabilities resides in its inability to classify hostile contacts while outside the threat envelope. It cannot receive any ESM threat warning of fire-control radar lock-c i and does not possess any means to defend itself against antiaircraft artil- lery/surface-to-air missile (SAM) weap­ons while in that environment.

The S-3A plays a critical role in the antiair warfare (AAW) mission through its use as a picket platform while sta­tioned on the threat axis. It can remain on station indefinitely, and can provide ESM locating data to the airborne or shipboard controller. But the S-3A is limited in a hostile air environment because it has no defensive or offensive air-to-air weapon system capability and cannot exploit the vertical fight while engaged in defensive combat maneuvering. If the Viking is air­borne during a major air engagement where hostile fighters are escorting the

strike aircraft, the S-3A would req^ul another platform to protect it.

The S-3A is a “non-player” *ⁿ .^c°_s ventional power-projection miss'⁰ which include mining, unless the eⁿ ronment is relatively benign. Too³/ strikes are planned around the ifiQ**¹ ment for “zero losses.” Aircraft strik¹ ^ a target or mining a harbor must p^osse the offensive and defensive capabih not only to achieve the required proba^ ity of kill, but to minimize exposure ^ the threat envelope. Where high ^a'^rsf’^<j_o0 is essential for survival, the S-3A *^s slow by about 100 knots. Where mane. verability is required, the S-3A is li⁰¹¹ to plus 3.5 Gs. Where a defensive cap^ bility is essential for survival, the S- doesn’t carry chaff, jammers, or A⁸*

In a mining operation, the S-3A P forms well: it not only can place ¹¹⁰

for

vlll'

inabilities in a threat envelope, the deci- ^s'°n to employ S-3As would require ei- ^er a completely benign environment or ^a case where no other option was avail­able.

^plications of S-3 Variants: The S-3A ^airframe, having proved its versatility in ? wide variety of missions, currently is ^e'ⁿ8 modified for different uses. As a ^result, however, remaining fleet S-3As be less effective, because of the re­gion in the number of available

^a,rframes.

The first variant of the S-3 A is the S'3A carrier on-board delivery (COD) aircraft. Converted from S-3A airframes, ^ese six COD aircraft operated by VRC- ^ provide essential long-range logistic ^SuPport in the Pacific and Indian oceans. ^Ll§hter than a fleet S-3A, the COD can ^Carry up to five passengers, cargo, and ^a'l while routinely servicing a battle ®^r°up at distances of more than 1,800 ^nautical miles.

The second variant of the S-3A aircraft ^{s l}he forthcoming ES-3A, the airborne {■ornponent of the battle group passive ^Ofizon extension system. Program re­quirements call for 16 modified S-3 As to P*^ace the retired EA-3B Sky warrior, Uh the first ES-3A delivery expected in ^ id-1990. Still configured to carry a ^rew of four, this aircraft will surpass the bipB's ^e*^ectron‘^c reconnaissance capa­. Withdrawing the variant aircraft from ^e basic fleet S-3A squadrons will po- ^eutialiy cause a decline in the Viking’s ..'lily to be effectively employed. The ^lrnination of 22 operating airframes, ^llh the remaining 147 airframes spread ^aUiong the 11 active fleet squadrons and ⁰ fleet readiness squadrons, leaves no ^argin for attrition or out-of-service peri­^s during scheduled major rework cy- , ^es- At this current inventory level, the ^verag_e number of aircraft per squadron ^llher must be reduced or each fleet quadron must resort to transferring air- ^raft from one squadron to another to ^aintain adequate numbers for deployed ₍.quadrons. A recent Air Wing Composi- > Study, reported by the Office of the '^ef of Naval Operations (OpNav), ^^ated that the minimum number of S-3As Uiaintain optimum performance in pri- ^aary mission areas could not be set lower ^an ten aircraft per fleet squadron. Yet Uh the addition of future active and re- _f^erve air wings needed to sustain 15 car­^er battle groups, an active inventory ^0rtfall of aircraft will be felt within two ^ears. Forecasts predict that even with ,^e already extended service life of ’000 hours from the earlier estimate of fatigue life, the S-3 inventory, as aircraft retire, will become critical starting in fis­cal year 2003. Even if a reprocurement decision is made as early as fiscal year 1990, the average number of aircraft per squadron could drop to as low as seven.

S-3B Capabilities: The upgrade to the S-3A, incorporated in the S-3B, will vastly improve the outer-zone ASW ca­pability and will make the Viking the pre­mier carrier-based ASUW platform. Sig­nificant improvements in the acoustic sensor system are centered on the ad­vanced signal processor, using the UYS-1 Proteus processor. Coupled with this common-core acoustic processor (also found in the SH-60B LAMPS-III and the P-3C Orion Update III) and soft­ware is the ARR-78, a 99-channel sono- buoy receiver, a new sonobuoy reference system (ARS-4), and the AQH-4 analog tape recorder. This acoustic suite en­hances the Viking’s capability to detect the latest generation of deployed Soviet submarines, eliminating the current vul­nerabilities experienced in the S-3 A.

The improvements in the non-acoustic sensors include the APS-137 inverse syn­thetic aperture radar (ISAR), which uses a demonstrated classification mode to identify ship type and class while remain­ing beyond hostile missile envelopes. The new ALR-76 ESM system provides increased frequency coverage, advanced computer processing, improved bearing accuracy as well as the ability to warn the aircrew of threats. The S-3B’s new ALE- 39 electronic countermeasures system, which uses three dispensing banks to eject (automatically or manually) chaff, jammers, or flares, dramatically im­proves aircraft survivability. Lastly, its AGM-84 Harpoon air-to-surface missile weapon system makes the S-3B a com­plete stand-alone ASUW platform, able to locate, classify, and target enemy combatants while remaining beyond SAM range.

As the first S-3Bs join the fleet in late 1988, the aircraft will receive several additional modifications that will greatly enhance its mission effectiveness. Add­ing the aerial refueling store modification to the aircraft’s left pylon will allow the S-3 to carry the D-704 refueling package. Beginning in October 1988—at a rate of two aircraft per month, per site (NAS North Island and NAS Cecil Field)—the S-3 will provide tanker support to meet increasing air wing requirements. The increased capacity auxiliary power units, which have been installed at a rate of three aircraft per month since January 1987, will make the S-3 completely self­sufficient and independent of most flight deck support requirements. The units provide adequate electrical power and air-conditioning to operate all weapon systems without heat damage to compo­nents. Reliability and maintainability updates to many component systems, ranging from the new series FLIR (OR- 263) to the communications control group and the universal display generator will further enhance lull-mission-capable rates, as new systems and connectors re­place obsolete contract components.

Finally, though currently not funded for retrofit, the S-3 airframe has demon­strated its compatibility to employ the AIM-9L Sidewinder air-to-air missile. Mounted on each pylon, Sidewinders could give the Viking a critical, albeit limited, self-defense capability when operating at extended ranges beyond air­borne combat air patrol cover.

Battle Group Requirements versus S-3B Effectiveness: With the composition of the carrier air wing changing over the next five years and the requirement in­creasing for long-range, multimission aircraft, the S-3B Viking becomes the platform of choice for the carrier. The S-3B’s improved capabilities will allow it to play a greater role in every warfare area. Its ability to loiter and engage the enemy at long range can and will rewrite current war-at-sea doctrine.

The S-3B will continue to be perfectly suited for the ASW mission. New tech­nology will enable it to detect quieter submarines more quickly, hold contact at longer ranges, and generate attack criteria for a higher percentage of the time. It will still be able to maintain the same hours on station while at a 300-nautical-mile ra­dius from the carrier. By using a common tanking platform for today’s long-range ASW missions, mission tanking profiles would be optimized for both tankers and ASW strike aircraft, providing savings in fuel, which could be converted into addi­tional range or time on station.

In the ASUW mission area, as already discussed, the S-3B will emerge as the lead aircraft for all future war-at-sea strikes because of its ability to classify and target hostile enemy contacts accu­rately. First, in the conventional concept, the S-3B will operate as pathfinder, con­ducting long-range surface reconnais­sance while remaining on station for more than four hours, 300 nautical miles from the battle group. During this period, it will effectively search a 450-square- nautical-mile area and, with its ISAR. classify these contacts down to ship class. Through data link procedures, the S-3B can covertly update the surface action group’s position, course, and speed; dis-

capability to lead effectively or figh*

the

ASW

to ASUW to AAW. While variants to

S-3 are looming on the horizon, the Na^v!

nn .

nal

should take advantage of this opportun'¹'

play force disposition; and prioritize tar­gets for attack to the S-3B strike lead. The strike leader can then direct an EMCON (electromagnetic radiation con­trol) strike group to the initial position, where unique air wing tactical procedures can be employed.

In the “shoot-wait-shoot” tactic, the

When the Lockheed crews finish their surgery, 16 ES-3As will greatly extend the battle group’s passive electronic reconnaissance capability, but the resulting shortfall of S-3As promises to degrade fleet operations within two years.

Viking pathfinder will provide a damage assessment between strikes, whether using its ISAR or perhaps by deploying remotely piloted vehicles. This concept will permit the strike aircraft to concen­trate weapons on the major surface-to- surface missile shooters rather than dis­persing weapons throughout the surface action group. It will obviate the require­ment for close-in surveillance and will minimize the need for multiple control platforms.

But what about the S-3B’s effective­ness in a more unconventional scenario? An air wing commander, for example, could launch a four-plane S-3B strike (each aircraft configured with one Aero- 1D tank and one Harpoon missile) while the enemy surface action group was at long range (600-800 nautical miles), using a complete EMCON launch and recovery, which could enable the battle group to remain covert. The Vikings could be launched without tanker support and could accurately target the surface- to-surface missile “shooter” while re­maining beyond the SAM envelope. If engaged, the S-3Bs defensive capability would include chaff, jammers, and flares and, perhaps, two AIM-9Ls per aircraft to counter any AAW threat. The potential to conduct war at sea out to 1,500 nauti­cal miles would require only a couple of accompanying S-3B tankers, and is a plausible scenario that must be exploited.

In the power projection mission, what would an air wing commander say about a weapons platform that could stand off and shoot with the defensive capabilities stated previously? How critical could an S-3B become to the mission’s success once it is certified to carry HARM and the latest land-attack missile version of Harpoon, SLAM? Perhaps for the S-3B, the adage “speed is life!” could be changed to “accurate stand-off targeting capability is life!”

The departure of the A-7E Corsair II from the fleet removes, among other important factors, critical tanker support for the air wing, just as the airborne tank­ing requirement continues to increase and must be provided by organic assets or by U. S. Air Force or other service support. If the carrier is going to preserve its capa­bility to operate free from land-based support and maintain its ability to con­duct open-ocean war-at-sea strikes, addi­tional organic tanker assets are an obvi­ous requirement. The use of the S-3B in ^a tanking role will solve this dilemma.

With this ability as stated, what show the appropriate mix of S-3Bs be for the air wing in the foreseeable future? If m^e OpNav study addressed earlier is const ered accurate and ten aircraft are requite for the S-3’s primary mission, how man) S-3Bs (with their great potential to con duct long-range, stand-off war-at-sea ASW, and long-range inflight refuelin? does the battle group commander real j need in the air wing? Is the number more like 14 to 15 S-3Bs? With routine sched­uled maintenance and a proportionate share of flight deck spots, having l^esS than ten aircraft per squadron will reduce a squadron’s capability to operate eff^eC^ tively in all these mission areas. Today ¹ the battle group, warfare commanders demand for scarce S-3 assets necessitates mission prioritization. Yet with increase S-3B capabilities, the requirement W grow for S-3B assets.

The S-3B Viking is a highly effect^ low-cost solution when compared ^W1 the tremendous costs associated with ^|fl traducing a new aircraft. With impr°^vj' ments in G capability and engine gr^ovVt ’ the Viking will be more capable of op^e ating in all warfare environments. Fisc savings attributable to airframe cornm⁰^ ality as originally envisioned can still ¹ realized. The economies of scale are eve more evident during these austere V^{0 gram budget times and must be exploit ■ The go-ahead in aircraft procuremc should be made now to minimize coming drop in platform numbers.

For one of the first times in naval avw tion, an air platform can demonstrate

practically every warfare area from to exploit this platform through additi°ⁿ procurement. A non-decision, the ^c°^u on which the Navy is currently ^e barked, could become a negative decis* for the conventional battle group of¹ foreseeable future.

Commander Peterson received a bachelor of ar* . _a gree from the University of Washington in 1975 * ^ Master of science degree from the Universt Southern California in 1983. He earned his P^, wings in November 1976 and has since made dep ^ ments on board the USS Saratoga (CV-60), L¹ . ,n]. dependence (CV-62), and USS Enterprise ( _a. 65). Commander Peterson served in Air ^Antisli[_aval rine Squadron 21, and is currently assigned to ^ Military Personnel Command, Washington, •

It’S Time for CSETT

Commander Cornelius F. O’Leary, U. S. Navy

In an earlier professional note, “ Corn­et Systems Team, Train Thyself!” (see December 1987 Proceedings, p. 124), I ^suggested that the surface warfare com­munity needs a more disciplined ap- P^f°ach to combat systems team training ^at sea. The note also recommended that ?™Ps develop an in-house training capa­city in order to maintain acceptable profi- ^Clency levels after refresher training. The Question left unanswered was “how?” The answer lies in developing a com- pt systems evaluation and training team 'CSETT). The CSETT would conduct ^cornbat systems training and evaluation °ⁿ a continuing basis, using shipboard Personnel. In addition, the CSETT would Provide a method for quality assurance in j j^mbat system operations. It would not ^e maintenance oriented, although the ^ship’s best technicians are likely to serve °ⁿ the team in an operator (not a techni- ^C|an) training role.

A useful analogy can be drawn from ^ae engineering and damage control ^w°rld. The engineering casualty control Valuation and training team (ECCETT) ^and the damage control evaluation and 'mining team (DCETT) are formalized ^requirements and well-regarded means of Providing watch station and repair locker mining on a continuing basis. In both

cases, these teams are evaluated in their roles as trainers (ECCETT by the Propul­sion Examining Board, and DCETT by the Fleet Training Group). This training organization can be extended to a CSETT concept in combat systems, where the doctrine is much less stable and the need is more critical.

The CSETT would be designated by the commanding officer and its members drawn from senior, experienced, watch- station-qualified personnel, who have the expertise to train and evaluate either a particular individual position or a sub­team. The team’s objective is Condition III watch team training, and it should be structured to cover Condition III evolu­tions. In many instances, it may not be necessary to use all of the team’s mem­bers, and assignments could be modified to meet particular training requirements.

Actual training could be conducted using existing fleet/type-commander ex­ercises and ship-drafted training scenar­ios, employing disclosure sheets inte­grated with applicable on-board training devices and simulators. Pre-briefs would be conducted as in engineering casualty control evaluation and training. Equip­ment setup and operating modes under varying circumstances, including casu­alty operations, would be discussed.

Combat system status as specified by bat­tle orders and doctrine should be verified and should include necessary modifica­tions in the form of training simulations (for example, simulate weapons loading).

When participants are ready, CSETT would conduct the exercise in a manner similar to fleet training group training/ evaluation procedures. Disclosures would be limited to actual data or infor­mation the operators would expect to hear in a real-world scenario, but within safety constraints. When training is completed, CSETT would hold a debrief and critique of the exercise.

Such a formalized shipboard training team in combat systems—one that is not maintenance oriented—is long overdue. Every ship seems to have its own ap­proach to combat systems on-board train­ing, and most would profit from some guidance in this area. A CSETT concept is an approach worth considering. Fleet training groups could evaluate the CSETT in action during refresher train­ing, and, in essence, train the trainers.

Commander O’Leary has held several combat system related training assignments, including the combat systems division head at Fleet Training Group, San Diego, California. He is currently commanding offi­cer, Fleet Combat Systems Training Unit, Pacific, in San Diego.

ftig Guns are Back—and Getting Better!

Thomas H. Antoniuk and Lieutenant Commander Richard W. White, U. S. Navy

The air cushion landing craft (LCAC) ^at,d the coming MV-22A Osprey will ^enable the Navy and Marine Corps to ^c°nduct an amphibious assault in multi- Pje ways—including over-the-horizon |OTH) launch—and with far greater flex- •oility and versatility. Recent amphibious Warfare developments have kindled an 'nterest in naval surface fire support NSFS)—a term that generally has re­placed the older naval gunfire support NGFS)—of amphibious operations.

.' bunker-type shore defenses—

"^mobile forces incapable of rapid de­ployment. During a large-scale conven- 'onal war today, an assaulting ^atI)phibious force could expect to en- ^c°Unter at least one motorized rifle divi- ^s>°n (MRD) either during the landing or ^s°°n thereafter. An MRD nominally con­sists of 13,000 personnel, 220 tanks, 575 light armored vehicles, and 125 artillery pieces of various calibers. The MRD would be distributed throughout its area of responsibility to optimize the fire­power of its combat elements. In addi­tion, the MRD reserve force could consist of three or four MRDs, which may be expected to force march to the amphibi­ous objective area (AOA) and immedi­ately counterattack. Consequently, the target environment is rich with highly mobile area targets and possesses rela­tively few point targets.

In July 1984, the Navy formulated a tentative operational requirement, based on a 1984 Center for Naval Analyses re­port, to address the issue of improved NSFS. In November 1985, a develop­ment options paper was completed. It examined specific system options that would meet the operational requirements, taking into account feasibility, cost, and system-level effectiveness. The 16-inch Naval Gunfire Improvement Project Op­erational Requirement, based on the NSFS options paper, was approved in May 1986.

The Naval Sea Systems Command (SEA-62Y), as program manager, will direct the development of 16-inch ex­tended-range ammunition and an im­proved gunfire control system (GFCS) to support this ammunition. The Naval Sur­face Weapons Center (NSWC), Dahl- gren, Virginia, is designated as the 16- inch Extended-Range Improvement Proj­ect Technical Direction Agent. NSWC will direct the technical development and application of these weapon system com­ponents in the 16-in/50-cal gun weapon system of the Iowa (BB-61)-class battle­ships.

Extended-range ammunition is re-

developed the requirement for an graded GFCS, which will enhance battleship’s capability in two primary

and bat- will

mission areas: amphibious warfare antisurface warfare. Only the main

Extending the range of 16-inch pro­jectiles, such as these staged for off­loading from the Iowa (BB-61), and improving the 16-inch gun fire con­trol system will expand the amphibi­ous objective area for amphibious operations.

quired to support future amphibious as­sault capabilities. This ammunition will provide effective firepower in support of the Marines during the ship-to-shore movement, and especially during inshore operations. The GFCS improvement will increase the flexibility, supportability, and effectiveness of the battleship gun weapon system.

Two requirements are driving the ex­tended-range program development ef­fort. The first is to reduce development risk and the second is to increase both the maximum range and effectiveness of the projectile. In order to satisfy the first re­quirement, common technology will be used as much as possible. Using a sub­caliber projectile containing submuni­, tions will meet the second.

The 16-inch Improved Conventional Munition Projectile has evolved from an ongoing project improvement program for 16-inch ammunition, conducted by NSWC. Obsolete M43 submunitions in the Mk-144 Improved Conventional Munition has been replaced by the newer U. S. Army M46 Dual-Purpose Sub­munition. The new projectile, designated the EX 146 (Mk-146 upon fleet introduc­tion), uses an electronic time fuze. The expulsion charge, when ignited by the fuze, moves a pusher plate, expelling the submunition cargo. The centrifugal force caused by the spin of the projectile dis­penses the grenades over a ground area that is roughly equivalent to six football fields. The M46 submunition contains a shaped charge in addition to a fragment­ing steel grenade body. This gives the battleships the capability to engage troops (as with the M43) and lightly armored vehicles.

Figure 1 depicts an initial design con­cept of the extended-range projectile, EX148. This projectile replicates the Mk- 146’s interior design, thereby reducing some technical risk, but differs drasti­cally in its exterior design. The extended- range projectile is designed to be a subcaliber round. (That is, the diameter of the bullet is less than the 16-inch bore diameter.) The round is made compatible with the 16-inch gun by means of a light­weight “sleeve” or sabot.

The in-bore weight is considerably less than a conventional 16-inch projectile. As a result, the extended-range projectile will have a significantly higher muzzle

velocity. The sabot is designed to sepa­rate from the projectile upon exit from the muzzle, allowing the projectile to con­tinue in its trajectory with minimum drag. The projectile’s new exterior shape sig­nificantly reduces aerodynamic drag, as well. This drag reduction, coupled with a

higher muzzle velocity, extends the weapon’s maximum range dramatically, and reduces the ballistic dispersion of the round.

A second payload, which uses the U. S. Army’s search-and-destroy armor (SADARM) submunition in combination with the M46, may be developed to com­plement the first M46 submunition cargo. This new munition will allow the battle­ship to engage armored targets. SADARM, when expelled from the base of the projectile, is suspended in the air- stream by a parachute and uses its sensor system to search for a target. Upon lock- on and engagement, SADARM fires a self-forging fragment onto the top of the target, the weakest point in most armored vehicles. This increased capability would significantly enhance the battleship’s support of amphibious operations. .

The existing Mk-38 GFCS on the bat­tleships is incapable of supporting the extended-range projectile. The Naval Ordnance Station, Louisville, Kentucky,

S. NAVY (J-

up'

the

tery GFCS on board the battleships be improved.         ,

The GFCS is composed of the ship ^s sensors and the gun computing ^sy^ste!?’ designated in the battleship as the M 160 Mod 5 (similar to the fire contm system of the Arleigh Burke [DDG-5 U class guided-missile destroyer Mk-1 Mod 4). The Mk-160 Mod 5 configure tion maximizes current battleship director and radar performance, emphasizes mo ular architecture, and uses Navy standaf console and computer equipment. *^ru' system design also allows for future im provements, such as the Global Position ing System and the AN/SPS-67, to ^e added.

The design is simple, flexible, mod^u lar, and survivable. Computers will p^r°

. vide the capability to pair any directo sensor with any turret. Retaining the ^cur rent fire-control switchboard ^an introducing redundant data transmissN lines and computers will allow the battl ship to keep its inherent flexibility ^an redundancy. Major equipment in the up grade include a Navy standard AN/U * U 21 console, AN/UYK-44 compute¹^’ gun-engagement consoles and compu ers, an RD-358 tape unit and a USH" cartridge unit, and a AN/SPG-53F rad^aI^

Extending the range of a ballistic p^r° jectile always raises the question of accu racy. As discussed, projectile design ^vV1 reduce some of the errors (primarily ba listic) associated with this weapon. Sab design will minimize sabot-induced d^|S persion errors. The Naval Ordnance St^a tion, Indian Head, Maryland, evaluate the existing 16-in/45-cal propellant in ^a effort to minimize variations in muz^z velocity.

One of the major improvements in ^a

^CUracy will result from integrating ^yelocimeters and an SPG-53F radar. The ^Velocimeters allow the fire-control com­puter to predict the velocity of the next Projectile out of a specific gun barrel with ^at accuracy. The SPG-53F radar will used to track outgoing projectiles, •his tracking process compares numeri­cally the predicted trajectory with the ac- Ual trajectory. By this comparison, the H^Un computing system will correct gun ^0rders for subsequent firings. The net Jesuit is that, even at maximum ranges, a urge number of rounds can be accurately Placed on target. Based on the 16-inch weapon system rate-of-fire from three turrets, a single battleship will be able to place more than two tons of sub­munitions on target within 60 seconds!

The U. S. Navy needs to take signifi­cant initiatives to satisfy the operational requirement, and to support the Marine Corps amphibious operations in the 1990s and beyond. Upgrading the battle­ship, its ammunition, and its gunfire con­trol systems will be a cost-effective means to this end.

Mr. Antoniuk is employed at the Naval Surface War­fare Center, Dahlgren, Virginia. He is the systems engineer for the 16-inch extended-range projectile development effort. A reserve engineering duty offi­cer, he previously has analyzed the capabilities of the Soviet 100-mm. and 130-mm. gun systems. Mr. An­toniuk has also studied the feasibility of using a velo- cimeter on the 76-mm. gun mount for the Mk-92 Fire Control System.

Commander White holds a bachelor of science de­gree in Naval Architecture from the U. S. Naval Academy (Class of 1977), and a master’s in mechani­cal engineering from the Naval Postgraduate School. An engineering duty officer and a weapon system subspecialist, Commander White served as the proj­ect manager for the Battleship Improvement Program and as a 16-inch Ammunition Technical Direction Agent at the Naval Surface Weapons Center, Dahlgren, Virginia. He is currently teaching mechan­ical engineering at the Naval Academy.

Will Our Subs Have a Fighting Chance?

Captain T. F. Davis, U. S. Navy (Retired)

was

as the world’s fastest submarine. , role was to test and prove the new ^UH design and learn how best to control ,,^er submerged. She was delivered with a ^s'ngle-stick” capability, but the in- called World War II -era instrumentation JJjahe single-stick control impossible, ats type of design deficiency is alarming

Her

Having been the “pilot” of the experi­mental submarine Albacore (AGSS-569), ^ln 1955, I have watched submarine ship ^c°ntrol progress with keen interest and ‘jctive participation and have followed the ■alogue about how submarines are de­igned and how they are best controlled "'hen submerged. Great strides have been ^de in quieting, weaponry, and sonar,

.^ut other areas, such as ship control and ^formation processing and display, have ^a8ged seriously behind.

. The Pilot Concept: Today’s subma- dHe, albeit sophisticated, uses ship con- /°1 procedures akin to those used in orld War II fleet boats—something like ^av*ng the pilot of an aircraft tell un­^rained crew members what altitude, j^Urse, and speed to maintain while not ^ching the controls himself. In the Al- ^acore, a well-trained pilot successfully ^trolled the ship single-handedly.

. hy, then, don’t our nuclear subs use the Phot concept?

One young Navy lieutenant, Mark r'Orenflo, explained in the October 1987 ^ut>marine Review that officers are “gen- jP'alists,” expected to grasp the big pic- ^Ufe and not get involved in hands-on ®^yolutions. He is right—that is expected. However, if he were trained as a pilot, “doming confident through experience, ^e Would probably be a better submariner ^a,)d serve in safer submarines.

The Albacore was commissioned in >953

and dangerous.

In order to use the pilot concept and single-stick control in the Albacore, the combined instrument panel (CIP) was developed. It was a cluster of gauges and indicators arranged so the pilot could quickly scan them while maintaining or changing course and depth. Included were rate-of-tum and rate-of-dive indica­tors, then came automatic depth and course control.

At this time in her experimental life, the Albacore had what was called a cruci­form stem; the control surfaces of the stem planes and rudder were aft of the monstrous propeller. The screw wash against these control surfaces provided the ultimate in maneuverability. She could out-dive hedgehogs, out-run de­stroyers, and was a thrill to fly. Even admirals Arleigh Burke and Lord Louis Mountbatten had their turns at the con­trols one fun-filled day in Key West, Florida. Much had been accomplished, but further improvements in instrumenta­tion were needed to reach the goals of simplicity and safety.

CONALOG: In 1960, the Norden Cor­poration, under contract to the Bureau of Ships (BuShips), produced CONALOG (contact analog) for submarine sub­merged control. This radically new ap­proach to instrumentation was designed to replace the multitude of gauges and dials with a pictorial representation of the underwater world. CONALOG presented in three parallel planes: the surface of the ocean; the ocean bottom; and the road­way, which was positioned at ordered depth and course. The surface and bottom of the ocean were uniform grids, 300 feet square. The roadway was 29 feet wide and 11 feet below the ship when she was at ordered depth. Tar strips on the road­way were 300 feet apart, and a bright area represented the submarine traveling at ordered speed.

When changes in depth and course were inserted, the roadway would reposi­tion up or down and curve toward the new heading. As the pilot repositioned the sub on the roadway, and assumed a new heading, the roadway would straighten. Pitch and roll were obvious.

CONALOG was designed to relieve the pilot from having to anticipate “char­acteristic” movements of the submarine. This was made possible through “quick­ening” or “anticipatory” circuits, which, employed in rate-of-dive and rate-of-tum indicators, are what make an “autopilot” perform so well. Most major merchant ships rely on rate-of-tum indicators for precise steering in restricted waters. In a matter of minutes, a recruit with a driv­er’s license could leam to maneuver a submerged submarine with ease, single- handedly. With the addition of automa­tion, which was an inherent part of CON­ALOG, the single pilot concept was a natural means of control, consolidating the roles of the diving officer, helmsman, bow planesman, and sternplanesman into a single role.

CONALOG and a similar system soon became the victims of disuse, however, and the submerged ship control method returned to World War II-era state-of- the-art. Installation of the CIP was the only real improvement. The Albacore's and BuShip’s efforts were almost for naught—a terrible mistake caused by personalities and philosophies in conflict. In those days, the submarine was a vehi­cle for nuclear propulsion. Automation was a dirty word in submarines, yet by

ogy can provide. That is why there seen¹* to be a newly formed chorus skeptical o the SSN-21. U. S. designers (including all the people involved in design ^an ’

most of all, the uniformed leaders ot¹

'uced

they

ship

ial

and

. Iⁿ

. dked CON' de- the

ital not

ority in hardware, but not in smarts the 1950s, industrial psychologists taj of “putting the man in the loop.” ALOG and SUBIC were systems signed to do just that, and then close loop. When they were discarded, ¹⁰¹

In 1956, Lieutenant W. J. Herndon piloted the Albacore as one would a blind aircraft through cloud cover. With her cruciform stern and single­stick control, the Albacore demon­strated the ultimate in low-speed maneuverability. Resurrecting some of yesterday’s concepts may give tomorrow’s subs their Fighting chance.

using the same contact analog system, helicopter pilots, who were not instru­ment qualified, were hovering their air­craft after ten minutes of practice, a feat far more difficult than controlling a sub­marine. The aircraft industry has gone on to make great strides in instrumentation while the submarine force retains old- fashioned equipment and methods. Try­ing to help is like being called in to treat a patient who refuses to admit he’s sick— and this hasn’t changed in some 25 years.

SUBIC: Around 1960, Electric Boat Company completed a submarine inte­grated control (SUBIC) study. Its objec­tive was to process and display all perti­nent ship control information. SUBIC display screens combined the information from various sources, and, by use of ana­log computers, it gave the operator the same picture he was trying to form in his mind based on information gleaned from gauges, dials, and sound-powered tele­phone talkers. In the stress of battle, and during emergencies, SUBIC could pro­vide a redundancy in computers so that the operator could select partial degrada­tion and virtually eliminate the chance of total failure. Television screens could be incorporated to display emergencies and damage control procedures in progress, as well as weapon loading and the status of readiness. Unfortunately, however, SUBIC was bom at the wrong time and never got off the drawing board.

Seawolf: The Seawolf (SSN-21)-class submarine is nearing the end of its drawing-board stage, with a 100-foot battery-propelled,                         computer-controlled

model already undergoing test and evalu­ation. As with other new submarine classes, there is controversy. Is the de­sign radically advanced enough to be classed as a new member of the underwa­ter world, or is it an update of the Los Angeles (SSN-688) class? One thing is certain, its underwater foes, the Soviet Sierra-, Oscar-, Akula-, and Victor Ill- class submarines are formidable—and in prevailing numbers.

Today’s submarine commanding offi­cers have never faced being out of weap­ons at a Critical moment thousands of miles from a renewal source. And let’s face it, in numbers of opponents, the odds are against us. The United States needs superiority in every area technol-

have neglected critical areas such as control, maneuverability, informal processing, instrumentation, and train mg.                       .

Tactics: The October 1987 spe^c issue of Proceedings, “Submarines ASW,” was most refreshing. Its auth°^ gave the impression that “tactics” is ⁿ° an accepted language in submarines, pa¹ ticularly in the front end. Our submab ners are brilliant, dedicated people w are fully aware of their dwindling sup^erl

control resulted in a series of loops very well coordinated.       .

The three main loops in submab^ control are engineering, fire control, a ^ ship control. The “decision maker removed from the engineering and s control loops when he is engaged in fire-control party solution. He can t ^s firsthand the picture at main engine c° trol or the diving station. Modem ., puters of great capacity and high relia ity can comfortably install the co manding officer in a “show-all" n)^a loop that includes all functions ^re9^u.^lf_eS to fight his submarine. The big loop g^lV

him the truly “big picture” and he can become a “generalist.” No offense to Lieutenant Gorenflo—he can be the Pilot, in the loop, and part of the big pic- tore all at the same time.

In the Navy’s enthusiasm for acquiring high-speed, deep-diving submarines, it °verlooked low-speed maneuverability. Many operators today claim that our at- tock subs have far more maneuverability toan is needed. They preach from an 18- bnot pulpit. The Albacore's bow planes "'ere removed as unnecessary append­^ages. Her cruciform stem was replaced, ^and the control surfaces were mounted on •he hull, forward of the propeller. This ^configuration provides greater stability at high speeds but no maneuverability at ^slow speeds.

The SSN-21 must have a maneuvering ^c3pability at slow speeds and still remain "ery quiet. Replacing the bow planes is °ne probability; however, as the old ship handler’s adage goes, the rudder moves toe stem, and the movement of the stem ^changes the heading. That fact applies "'hen submerged as well as in the vertical Plane. Kort nozzles on the stem planes ^and rudders are another possibility, toaybe both. Predators depend upon ^sPeed and maneuverability one minute, health and cunning the next; two items on a survival menu. Hopefully, the Seawolf will be able to “dog fight,” and provide for weapon snap-shots by the pilot.

World War II produced heroes based on tonnage sunk. Since then, the U. S. Navy’s submariners have not fired a weapon in anger. They and their weapon system (the entire ship), are due for a re­alistic “fighting” evaluation.

Simulators: Many very sophisticated evolutions are investigated before accep­tance with the help of simulators. The Army Corps of Engineers studied the problems and alternatives to dredging Hampton Roads, Virginia, by simulation of the area long before final cost and time recommendations were made. Trident program managers required detailed sim­ulator studies, employing docking pilots, to determine the tug requirements for dead-stick handling of Trident subma­rines in Kings Bay, Georgia. Trident sub­marine crews are simulator-trained in shiphandling and piloting before they ever go to sea. More than one year of simulator studies preceded a decision about how wide to make the Panama Canal’s Galliard Cut. Considering these precedents, the Navy might also benefit from using simulators to study new con­cepts in submarine control and tactics— and then use the simulator to train sub­mariners in how to get the most out of their new class of submarine. Indeed, there are training devices, part task train­ers and, probably by now, part task simu­lators. However, there are no provisions for a full-blown simulator to evaluate or train now or in the future.

The bottom line is this: untrained peo­ple will not use new concepts; they will revert to old-fashioned methods with which they are familiar. New concepts in submarines are hard to sell because they are unfamiliar. If tried in simulators, however, they could be evaluated prop­erly at an insignificant cost. But the lead­ership must say, “Do it!” and allow sim­ulators to lead the way in keeping the Navy from repeating the mistakes of the 1960s as it presses into the 1990s.

Captain Davis is a 1947 graduate of the U. S. Naval Academy. He was pilot/executive officer of the Al­bacore and managed the Submarine Under-Ice Pro­gram for the Bureau of Ships, 1960-1963. Captain Davis commanded the submarine Grenadier (SS- 525), which received the Jerauld Wright Award; Sub­marine Division 72; and the fleet oiler Neosho (AO- 143). Since 1980, he has been active in the shiphand­ling training of prospective commanding officers and Trident submarine crews, using computer-generated image simulators. Captain Davis has been a consult­ant to the Navy and the Maritime Administration in simulation studies and shiphandling training since 1980.