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A Defense Strategy That Works
By Franklin C. Spinney
Politicians and defense intellectuals have complained for years that the Pentagon can not determine priorities because it has no strategy. In April 1989, the new defense secretary, Richard B. Cheney, acknowledged that he was cutting $65 billion from our five-year spending plan before the completion of the National Strategy Review. In a refreshingly candid response to a reporter’s question, Cheney said, “Given an ideal world, we’d have a nice, neat, orderly process. We’d do the strategy and then we’d come around and do the budget. This city doesn’t work that way.”
The Pentagon does indeed have an orderly, step-by-step planning process. First, we identify our national goals and the threats to these goals, then we shape a strategy to counter these threats.
We next identify the forces needed to execute the strategy, and finally we forge the budgets needed to build and maintain the required forces. This neat, logical process consumes millions of manhours of labor and tons of paper, and although its procedures are amazingly complex, it proceeds inexorably from goals to budgets. In theory, each event depends on the preceding event but is independent of subsequent events. Strategy is the key link in this chain; it ties our relations to the outside world (goals and threats) and to our internal conditions (forces and budgets). It is, or should be, the basis for setting priorities and making decisions.
Unfortunately, as Mr. Cheney’s comment suggests, this neat, logical process is constantly bypassed by the ever-changing, bewildering events of the real world. The truncation of last year’s strategy review is but the latest example. Our planning process does not work in the real world because the planners have disconnected strategy from the real world of budget politics.
The heart of the problem is the flawed notion that a strategy depends only on goals and threats, and that it must be defined before we consider the resource constraints that limit our actions. By ig-
If senior military leaders don’t step in and set their own budget priorities, they can fall victim to porkbarrel politics—always in play, but with a different agenda.
noring such limitations, the well-intentioned strategists in the Joint Staff spin off into an Alice-in-Wonderland world, where every imaginable threat must be countered. They have little incentive to generate priorities because money is, in effect, unlimited; without priorities, all requirements must be satisfied. This results in unconstrained wish lists, leading to a plan where the minimum-risk force needed to execute the defense strategy is so large that it is completely fanciful. By ignoring resource constraints, our strategic planners abdicate their responsibility for hard decisions, put the onus for these decisions on others, deal themselves out of the real decision-making process, and permit budgets and porkbarrel politics to shape strategy. Since this form of strategy making takes place in a world of secrecy, its pernicious effects are almost invisible to the public at large.
In January 1982, a leak to The Washington Post provided a rare glimpse into the secret Alice-in- Wonderland world of minimum-risk planning. That year, we were preparing a five- year spending plan projecting a defense budget that would rise from $274 billion in fiscal year 1984 to $425 billion in 1988. This plan was wildly optimistic— actual spending in 1988, for example, was “only” $287 billion or 68% of the planned amount. The Post reported, however, that this five- year plan underfunded the defense strategy by as yi-- much as $750 billion in constant 1983 dollars (a number which increases
to $903 billion when converted to constant 1989 dollars).
After taking out the effects of inflation and putting everything in terms of constant 1989 dollars, the following situation unfolded: The 1984-88 Five-Year Defense Plan (FYDP) envisioned spending $1.8 trillion, but an additional $903 billion was needed to carry out the defense strategy. Thus the total budget required to execute our strategy was $2.7 trillion. Actual appropriations between 1984 and 1988, however, were “only” $1.5 trillion or 56% of the strategic requirement, thus leaving a strategy-to-reality deficit of $1.2 trillion.
Only one conclusion is possible: decisions that are $1.2 trillion and 44% short of the strategy’s requirement are devoid of that strategy’s content. The budget constraints of the largest peacetime spending spree in U. S. history have actually severed the strategy from the defense program.
Budget politics continue to produce these decisions. In the 27 months between the publication of the FY 1988-92 FYDP in January 1987 and the publication of the amended FY 1990-94 FYDP in April 1989, the spending projections for 1989-92 were cut back by an additional $264 billion (in constant 1989 dollars) without a major strategy review.
Mr. Cheney is correct. Washington does not work the way the Pentagon would like it to work. Figure 1 compares the last eight five-year spending plans to the real world of appropriations. It compares what we want to what we get. Although these five-year plans underfunded the defense strategy, they grossly overestimated congressional appropriations. We shot ourselves in the foot every year.
When strategy is disconnected from budget plans, and budget plans are disconnected from reality, it should be no surprise that we start more programs than we can finish, that we create instability and waste, and that we open the door to political meddling. Bean counters, budgeteers, and porkbarrelers have different agendas. The recent vote by the House of Representatives to undo Mr. Cheney’s program terminations suggests the consequences—preservation of jobs is becoming the real goal of our nation’s defense “strategy.” As Pogo said, “We have met the enemy, and he is us.”
If we want a defense strategy that sets priorities and shapes actual decisions, our strategists must come down to earth and work within the reality of limited budgets. Strategy involves possibilities, and the availability of money determines what is possible.
Strategic planners also must acknowledge that the future is uncertain. Conditions change constantly, and the farther one looks into the future, the more uncertain things become. But, even if the planners cannot predict the future, they can still analyze current conditions and trends to identify a range of contingencies, going from best-case to worst-case scenarios. The folly of relying on best-case budget scenarios is evident in Figure 1.
Reform starts in the Pentagon. Strategists must consider the impact of fiscal constraints when they begin planning. Contingency analysis is common in war planning; there is no reason why it can not be done for budget planning.
Two steps are necessary to translate this idea into action. Step one cleans up the books; it is necessary because the current five-year plan contains three questionable accounting assumptions—
negative money, an above-guidance management reserve, and overly optimistic inflation estimates. These assumptions understate the spending requirements of the current five-year plan by almost $100 billion; some explanation is required.
Negative money was invented in 1988 to make the 1990-94 FYDP conform to the numbers in President Reagan’s final budget submission to Congress. Although the Defense Department slashed more than $200 billion from the budgets projected by the previous five-year plan, the cut was not big enough. The new five-year plan still exceeded by $45 billion the numbers contained in the president’s budget message to Congress. To make the books balance, now required by law, somebody invented a new budget line item—program estimates. It is known in the Pentagon as the “negative funding wedge,” and it simply subtracts the $45 billion from the program total to balance the books.
Charles A. Bowsher, Comptroller General of the U. S., told Congress that in the Pentagon’s view, the negative wedge is the net effect of two components: $22 billion represents unidentified procurement reductions that we intend to make in future years and $23 billion is an above-guidance management reserve entitled “Unanticipated Requirements.” These arguments are attempts to rationalize a bad situation.
- Taking credit for future cuts not yet made was a trick used by David Stockman when he was predicting that the supply-side tax cuts would balance the federal budget in the mid-1980s. The results speak for themselves.
- “Unanticipated Requirements” accounts for undefined programs that will materialize in the future. Placing it outside of the budget makes a mockery of
the idea of having a management reserve to cope with unforeseen events.
Mr. Bowsher also stated that the current five-year plan assumes that inflation will decline from 3.6% in 1990 to 1.7% in 1994. Most economic forecasters, including those in the Congressional Budget Office, assume inflation will be in excess of 4 percent in each of those five years. These higher projections suggest that the defense plan is underfunded by $48 billion.
Step one adds back the negative wedge and recalculates the remaining program using more probable inflation estimates of 4% a year through 1994. This housecleaning actually increases the five-year total by $93 billion. The revised program, now costing $1.7 trillion between 1990 and 1994, provides the baseline.
Step two is the heart of the Strategic Planning Review. It examines four progressively lower budgets and forecasts the effects of these changes on national security. Figure 2, which includes the effects of the 4% per year inflation assumption, places these budget scenarios in the context of appropriations since 1980. Note how the baseline program assumes that future appropriations will increase sharply. Step two is designed to deal with the more likely possibility that the baseline program will not materialize.
Budget scenarios one and three are referred to colloquially as the “constant dollar freeze” and the “current dollar freeze.” The constant dollar freeze reimburses the Pentagon for inflation only. Since the chart includes the effects of inflation, scenario one slopes upward at 4% per year. The constant dollar freeze has been the rough position of the U. S. Senate since about 1985; if projected into the future, this scenario would reduce the baseline program by $106 billion over the next five years.
The current dollar freeze, scenario three, has been the approximate position of the House of Representatives for about the-last four years. It freezes the budget at its current level, and the Pentagon must absorb the effects of inflation for the next five years. If this happens, the baseline program drops by $229 billion.
Budget scenario two is an approximation of the recent compromises between the House and the Senate. In true democratic spirit, it splits the difference between scenarios one and two. The budget grows at 2% a year in current dollars, which means the Pentagon absorbs half the inflation. It implies a five-year reduction of $169 billion from the baseline. In terms of recent appropriations, this is the most likely outcome.
Finally, scenario four reduces the bud-
get 2% per year in current dollars for the next five years. By 1994, the budget would be $273 billion compared to a 1990 budget of $296 billion, and the total reduction from the baseline program would be $287 billion. This is a pessimistic prediction, perhaps driven by the sequestering effects of the Gramm-Rudman deficit reduction law and a relaxation of tensions with the Soviet Union.
The strategic planners in the Joint Staff would do their best to construct the most effective defense program possible for each of these scenarios, striving to maximize strengths and minimize weaknesses in terms of our ability to achieve goals and neutralize threats. They would conclude their efforts by producing a comprehensive net assessment for each plan— including assumptions, deficiencies and limitations, impact on national security, and the best strategy for working around these limitations.
This exercise reveals the true cost of a particular program by forcing tradeoffs. If, for example, planners keep the Air Force’s B-2 stealth bomber in each scenario, more and more other programs— Navy carrier battle groups or Army divisions—must be eliminated as the budget decreases. Such tradeoffs tell us when the cost of the B-2 becomes prohibitive in terms of the sacrifices made elsewhere— information that permits us to anticipate problems, set priorities, and perhaps do things differently.
Two arguments will be raised against the idea of planning for multiple budget contingencies. Some will argue that this idea is merely a resurrection of the infamous zero-based budgeting (ZBB) concept used by the Carter administration. There are two reasons to reject this attack: First, ZBB did not involve the strategic planners in the JCS; and since it did not involve a strategic assessment, it degenerated into a bean-counting drill that was driven by budget politics. Second, ZBB’s procedures were so cumbersome that the participants became trapped in a maze of marginalia. The Strategic Planning Review is fundamentally different. It would be run by the JCS. Their direction would be simple: Produce the best possible force for each budget scenario and provide the Secretary of Defense with a comprehensive net assessment of how they would use that force to achieve our goals.
A more subtle and superficially persuasive argument is that we would be fools to put our cards on the table; that consideration of lower budgets will hurt national security because it will open the door to opportunistic budget-cutting by an irresponsible Congress. This argument plays well in the atmosphere of gaming and mistrust permeating the Pentagon and Congress, and unfortunately, there is some truth to it. But in the end, it must be rejected for logical as well as moral reasons: Logically, it implies we should continue producing irresponsible plans, because if we act responsibly, Congress will respond by acting irresponsibly. This thinking leads nowhere. Morally, it implies we should withhold information from Congress, that we can deliberately exaggerate our needs in the interests of making a deal, and in extremis, that we are justified in committing a crime—i.e., lying to Congress—because we are morally superior.
Strategy is not a game between the Pentagon and Congress; it is the art of the possible in a world where constraints force us to choose between unpleasant or imperfect alternatives. Strategy is not a separate event in an idealized sequence of discrete events; it is a way of thinking that neutralizes threats to our interests while remaining consistent with our financial, cultural, and physical limitations. If we want meaningful priorities, we must understand the tradeoffs they imply before we make commitments.
Mr. Spinney is a civilian program analyst in the Tactical Air division of the Pentagon’s Office of Program Analysis and Evaluation. A former U. S. Air Force officer, he has written widely on defense planning and decision making and has testified before Congress on numerous occasions.
NRF SSN(M)—Why Not?
By Lieutenant Commander Sankey L. Blanton, U, S. Naval Reserve
Class | Number | Status |
Lafayette (SSBN-616) | 3 | 2 stricken; 1 converted to static training platform (ARTB) |
Ethan Allen (SSBN-608) | 5 | 3 stricken; 2 converted to special operations transports |
George Washington (SSBN-598) | 5 | 5 stricken |
In a review of the events in the Persian Gulf during 1987, one fact stands out: The United States Navy found itself in a combat situation that it could not handle without the assistance of the Naval Reserve Force (NRF), specifically the minesweepers. A glance at the reserves and the active fleet reveals other missions that require total force participation; convoy escort and major amphibious operations, for example. But one critical capability is lacking in both fleets—that of a dedicated minelayer.
Despite this deficiency, 10 of the 13 nuclear-powered ballistic-missile submarines (SSBNs), decommissioned to meet the SALT II agreements have been scrapped.1 The breakdown:
The space that would be available when the ballistic missile tubes are removed from an SSBN is enough to accommodate a completely outfitted, mobile, mine assembly shop. This would give the submarine a variety of wartime capabilities, such as antisubmarine warfare, antisurface warfare, and commerce interdiction. Barrier minefields could be laid where the force commander desired using the precision navigation equipment already installed on the former SSBN. Mines have proved effective as political weapons (e.g., in Vietnam and the Persian Gulf), as well as tactical and strategic weapons. The covert capability of the minelaying submarine, designated SSN(M), coupled with delayed arming of the mines, would provide an alternative as effective as any naval blockade.
There are two problems with the SSN(M) concept (SALT II verification is only a minor concern.). The first is to equip, pay for, and man them. The SSBNs, which have had the most generous maintenance budget, parts support, and repair availability in the fleet, have also had more sea time per year than any naval vessels since World War II. Many of the stricken SSBNs could not be made safe to operate within the budget limitations, and were decommissioned in the best interest of the service. On the other hand, the Lafayette class, however, has a sound main propulsion plant, but has possible stress problems with the hull. The SSN(M) mission would not require excessive depth capabilities, however.
The second consideration is the mines themselves. In the current U. S. Navy inventory, there are a limited number of Mk-57 and -67 mines. The Mk-57 is a 2,000-pound, moored mine with a magnetic trigger designed for deep-running, high-speed submarines. Containing only 340 pounds of HBX-3, it has a small kill radius and would be required in great numbers to form an effective barrier. The Mk-67 is a multiple-influence mine warhead attached to a modified Mk-37 torpedo body, best used in shallow, restricted shipping lanes or harbor entrances. The best ASW application for either weapon against a defended position would be a virtual suicide mission for the large, slow SSN(M). The Mk-60 Captor has a price tag that makes it a significant budget item. There may never be enough Captors to load as many as 250 on an SSN(M).
In order to justify their modification, the SSN(M)s must perform useful missions in peace as well as war, or else they will go the way of the USS Triton (SSN- 586)—the first submarine to circumnavigate the globe submerged, and one of the first nuclear vessels decommissioned for lack of a peacetime role. In fact, there are significant peacetime requirements for SSN(M)s on each coast:
- ASW training and support: When was the last time any task force commander heard the Submarine Operating Authority readily agree to a request for services?
- Dedicated research and development vessels: Submariners should welcome this even more than contractors.
- Training pipeline submarines: Operational units now support the total training pipeline while performing some of the most sensitive Navy missions. We don't qualify new aviators on deployed carriers. Why should a propulsion-capable training boat be hard to visualize?
► Total force preparedness: If we expect submarine-qualified reservists to maintain their high skill level, an operational submarine is a firm requirement.
Fleet exercises rarely last more than a two-week active duty training (AcDuTra) period. An SSN(M) could take on its assigned reserve augmentation unit for a week of concentrated pierside refresher training, then proceed to the exercise area to provide the dedicated ASW opposition that the surface fleet needs to hone its edge. Most research and development equipment could be installed by one AcDuTra team and taken to sea by another team for evaluation. Many contractor personnel are submarine-qualified reservists. The USS Sam Rayburn (SSBN-635) has already been welded to a pier to fulfill part of the third mission; this amounts to installing a nuclear reactor at a shore station. The cost of environmental protection and other safeguards make this an expensive training aid. Having a propulsion-capable training boat would improve on this concept.
The last two missions need extensive consideration. There has been a continuing shortage of submarine-qualified personnel. At first glance, the decommissioning of 10 SSBNs should free 20 full crews to man the new Trident boats. The status change from a Blue and Gold boat to a single crew manned by submarine qualified TAR (Training and Administration of Reserves) personnel at a reduced level also provides Trident manpower. Often overlooked is the benefit to the submarine community of having an additional career alternative to “underway or out.” The operational cycle for the NRF SSN(M) would not normally include long separations or emergency deployments. A submarine TAR program with handpicked reservists to fill the manpower needs should be a selling point.
If the NRF SSN(M) were part of the training pipeline, it would create a position for senior qualified personnel as instructors. This would enhance the seashore rotation on the shore side, and allow for an increase in the introductory pipeline. As a result, more and better- prepared personnel would be assigned to operational boats and could replace experienced senior personnel who would come ashore to become part of the ex-
paneled training program for even more first enlistment personnel (positive feedback). Reserve teams could assist in the routine maintenance and preservation efforts required to keep a school boat up to standards.
The NRF SSN(M) is a realistic alternative to scrapping otherwise functional SSBNs. As each new Trident SSBN is commissioned, the next excess SSBN to be decommissioned has less sea time. The boats of the George Washington- class may have been too old to rework, but the remaining Lafayette-class boats have plenty of service left in them. The option of converting the ballistic-missile bay into a mobile mine magazine and dispensing the weapons through the torpedo tubes appears to be the least costly. There are plenty of peacetime missions that a reserve SSN(M) could assume from an overburdened active force. The program would enhance fleet ASW readiness and, quite possibly, could be the turning point for the poor trend in submariner retention statistics.
Two Polaris SSBNs, the USS John Marshall (SSN-611) and the USS Sam Houston (SSN-609), were converted to transport special operations forces. The space available in these boats can accommodate either one-third of a sea-air-land (SEAL) team or a Marine reconnaissance platoon, with a limited amount of equipment. The personnel and equipment can be clandestinely inserted while the submarines are submerged from dry deck shelters (DDS), which have little impact on submarine performance. Both of these boats are more than 25 years old and are slated for retirement in the early 1990s.2 A well designed SSN(M) could be rapidly emptied of mine racks and utilized for special operations, adding yet another mission to the list. Those who would argue against a minelayer conversion because of SALT II verification problems must have forgotten about the Sam Houston and the John Marshall.
The wartime effectiveness of the minelaying submarine has been proved in every major conflict since the U. S. Civil War. Its first use dates to the American Revolutionary War when Sergeant Ezra Lee of the Continental Army took David Bushnell’s Turtle and tried to attach a mine to the hull of HMS Eagle, Lord Howe’s flagship, in the harbor of New York City. The American inventor, Robert Fulton, worked on the original Nautilus and tried to sell Napoleon on the idea of submarine-laid mines. The Confederate Davids caused havoc with the Union blockade and finally sank the USS Housatonic on 17 February 1864 in Charleston harbor.3
During World War I, the Germans used some of their U-boat fleet for minelaying in the North Sea. The German Type-UC boat could carry up to 34 mines externally without sacrificing torpedo capacity. The British converted 6 E-class subs to lay 32 mines from outboard saddle tanks and Russia built the first dedicated minelaying submarine, the Krab, in 1915. Based on these successes, the U. S. Navy commissioned the USS Argonaut (SS-166) in 1928. It was the largest boat in the fleet at the time, designed as a minelayer with an internal capacity of 60 moored mines. The Argonaut, before her loss, was never used as a minelayer, but joined the USS Nautilus (SS-168) in transporting intelligence and raider teams to enemy held islands.4 In 1930, the British started the Porpoise class of six sub-
The flag was at half-staff for President John F. Kennedy when the USS Nathan Hale (SSBN-623) commissioned on 23 November 1963. Decommissioned in 1986, the LaJ'ay- ette-dass submarine is now being stripped for parts. Maybe the Navy could do something more creative with the old SSBNs.
marine minelayers that had room for 50 mines in a non-watertight casing outside the pressure hull.5 British minelaying submarines also were used in World War II to run critical supplies to the isolated island fortress of Malta.
At the beginning of World War II, convert submarine minelaying played an important role but this was later eclipsed by massive submarine successes in commerce interdiction and aviation minelaying operations.6 Nazi U-boats made a regular habit of slipping into British ports, before their defenses were fully organized, to leave magnetic mine calling cards.7 When the United States entered the war similarly unprepared, U-boat mining closed eight East Coast ports for a total of 40 days and sank or damaged 11 ships. The first submarine mining offensive against Japan began in late 1942. U. S. boats planted a total of 36 fields at strategic harbor entrances and choke points; these are known to have accounted for 27 ships sunk and 27 damaged. The success ratio was one ship for every 12 mines laid (one mission load); no U. S. submarines lost during the minelaying operations.
The current minelaying capacity of the United States Navy includes tactical air, patrol air, and the fast attack submarines that must sacrifice torpedo storage for the mines taken on board. Additionally, B-52G aircraft of the Strategic Air Command have a minclaying capacity, primarily with Destructor mine fuses in iron bombs. Surface craft of any description can be used as mine layers in an undefended ocean area if necessary but all of these assets count minelaying as a secondary mission. Lack of a dedicated asset is a guarantee that mines will not come into play until the United States has cycled through all other options, as it did in Vietnam.
The naval conflict of the 21st century is shaping up as an Arctic ocean ASW match.8 Such a battle will be almost entirely a submarine duel, and one in which the U. S. force is woefully outnumbered.9 In order to ensure victory, every possible force multiplier will be necessary.10 Minefields are a multiplier with a history of effectiveness. Aircraft and surface ships are unable to lay mines under
101
the ice that covers many of the Arctic- basin choke points during much of the year. Captor mines can be an advantage only if their exact location is known by all NATO boats. The best way to address all of these concerns is to use a SSN(M).
Like the NRF minesweepers that led the fleet in the Persian Gulf, an NRF SSN(M) has both a valid peacetime mission and a critical wartime application. There are a number of young Lafayette- class boats in line to become the first units of the Submarine Reserve Program. The time to review the full potential as the NRF SSN(M) concept is now.
'F.E. Armbruster, Jr., “Mines: A New Lease on SSBNs’ Lives?” U. S. Naval Institute Proceedings, June 1987, pp. 98-99.
2N. Polmar “SOF—The Navy’s Perspective,” U. S. Naval Institute Proceedings, August 1987, pp. 136—
138.
3G.K. Hartmann, Weapons that Wait (Annapolis, MD: U. S. Naval Institute, 1979).
4LCdr S.L. Blanton, USNR, “Let's Get KrakenV U. S. Naval Institute Proceedings, December 1985,
p. 111.
5Capt J.S. Cowie, RN, Mines, Minelayers, and Minelaying (London: Oxford University Press, 1949).
6R.C. Duncan, America's Use of Sea Mines (White Oak, MD: U. S. Naval Ordnance Laboratory, 1962). 7J. Brennecke, The Hunters and the Hunted (New York: W.W. Norton & Co., Inc., 1949).
8Capt L.A. LeSchack, USNR, “COMNAV-
FORARCTIC” U. S. Naval Institute Proceedings, September 1987, pp. 74-80.
9LCdr M.N. Pocalyko, USN, “Sinking Soviet SSBNs,” U. S. Naval Institute Proceedings, October 1987, pp. 24-36.
10LCdr J. Stavridis, USN, “Creating ASW Killing Zones,” U. S. Naval Institute Proceedings, October 1987, pp. 38-42.
Commander Blanton is the training officer for Naval Special Warfare Group Two, Reserve Detachment 106, in Norfolk, Virginia. While on active duty, he served on board the USS Vogelgesang (DD-862), the USS Mullinix (DD-944), and the USS Hoel (DDG- 13).
A Modest Proposal________________________________________________
By Commander James J. Murphy, U. S. Naval Reserve; Lieutenant Commander Rodney G. McFadden, U. S. Naval Reserve; and Commander Charles R. Havnen, U. S. Coast Guard (Retired)
Since 1947, the offshore oil exploration and exploitation industry has grown from an idea to a worldwide, technologically advanced monument to man’s ability to solve impossible problems. The industry has developed a multitude of both special and multi-purpose vessels— almost all of which could be part of a na
The Louis Tide, shown carrying a U. S. Air Force rescue boat, is one of many special and multi-purpose vessels available for Navy missions in war.
tional defense effort to help make up shortages caused by a decrease in U. S.- flagged and U. S.-controlled hulls since the end of World War II.
It is in the best (if not vital) interest of the United States to create a system by which offshore service vessels and other currently available commercial craft may be taken up from trade to perform military missions. Any attempt to bootstrap a system after the outbreak of hostilities will likely be too late.
The Department of Transportation’s Maritime Administration (MARAD) has statutory authority to requisition and operate commercial vessels on behalf of the government, authority not limited by type, service, or size of vessel.1 The Maritime Administration has a variety of vessels in custody, laid up as a result of defaults in payments to mortgage guarantee bondholders under the Title XI program. It plans to sell these vessels, although some have been placed in long-term lay up in reserve fleets.
Although the offshore industry has recruited numerous former Navy personnel, the majority of the existing labor pool comes from nonmilitary sources. Attempting to train boat crews in “the Navy Way” after mobilization would be ineffective. In order to train industry personnel prior to mobilization it may be preferable to use the Merchant Marine Reserve, Naval Reserve, or a bom-again U. S. Maritime Service. A recent change in the Coast Guard licensing regulations may have opened the Merchant Marine and Naval Reserve programs to civilian crews serving on vessels of less than 1,000 tons. In any event, a mechanism for allowing civilian crews to become eligible for training schools, correspondence courses, security clearances, etc., should be investigated.
Many who are unfamiliar with the design and capabilities of offshore service vessels have difficulty envisioning missions for them. Nevertheless, planners who have confronted the dearth of assets versus the plethora of missions for maritime defense have considered obtaining offshore service vessels for coastal defense—in effect, to act as surrogate patrol boats or corvettes. The Maritime Administration is the executive agent of the government for such acquisition but any attempt to define the number and type of vessels required is still at an early stage.
Potential missions for the offshore service vessels include: coastal convoy early warning, minehunting and minelaying, helicopter support, offshore petroleum discharge system support (in forward operating areas), coastal naval control and protection of shipping (although the
- 16 knot top speed of most offshore service vessels could be a problem), salvage support, and towing arrays. (Seismic vessels are in that business every day.)
Two tug supply vessels, chosen primarily because of their cable-control gear, were fitted with mechanical mines- weep gear in the Persian Gulf. Although some viewed the boats as a security blanket, they were the proper public gesture and they performed effectively against the known threat. Their service demonstrated the real mobilization value of the offshore service vessel—a quick, low- tech fix that provides specialized capabilities. For example, the time required to sweep an area for mines is directly proportional to navigational accuracy. Seismic vessels come equipped with precise navigational capabilities.
The framework for developing a vessel and crew to perform the many missions required in the Exclusive Economic Zones has been discussed extensively by Captain R. D. Bland in the Naval War College Review} According to Bland, the offshore service vessels require additional equipment for fleet operations. For a few extra dollars, the oil patch do- whatever-it-takes mindset would allow the placement of weapons on board to be a real force multiplier. Suggestions for appropriate features include: gun tubs, automatic weapons, mortars, stands, signalling lamps, searchlights, towed arrays, forward-looking variable depth and sidescan sonar, air search radar, helicopter emergency support equipment, and a
- ton-capacity crane (with some underdeck stiffening) to launch and recover remotely operated vehicles for minesweeping. Command, control, communications, and intelligence systems are being developed for Maritime Defense
Zones.3 The vessels require communications equipment to make them interoperable with Coast Guard and Navy ships.
How the national defense features are to be installed and funded must be answered on a case-by-case basis; joint Maritime Administration and Navy funding is possible. Drydocking would not be required for the outfitting since installation can be accomplished, after the declaration of a national emergency, by the vessel crew and an embarked military team using skid-mounted defense features and carry-on communications gear. Some items can be obtained off the shelf while others would need some lead-time to be procured. The Maritime Administration could take custody of the items under the newly installed Ready Reserve Force spare parts inventory system. Presumably, the Maritime Administration would supervise the national-defense feature installation as it does for larger ships. War-risk insurance eligibility, in return for national-defense feature installation, must also be factored into planning, for these vessels would be operating in areas where they would be at risk.
The number and types of vessels that will be needed for national-emergency offshore oil exploration and production support must be determined. According to the Minerals Management Service, maximizing offshore oil and gas production will become a very high priority in a national emergency. Offshore production would not be brought to maximum until additional equipment could be mobilized but the Strategic Petroleum Reserve should allow two to three months for additional production capacity to be brought on line. Maximum-rate production might require a 50% increase in the number of support vessels. Therefore, not all offshore support vessels could be requisitioned since offshore oil production would have to continue.
Should funding for full implementation of this proposal not be available, a cadre of naval reservists might be created to go on board offshore support vessels to help carry out the coastal defense missions. A notional detachment might include: one officer, two gunners mates, an operations clerk, radioman, signalman, sonar technician, and yeoman. This might make manpower, training, and cost more manageable. The Naval Embarked Amphibious Teams are a precedent for this approach. The detachments could bring some equipment on board with them while other equipment could be taken from storage for fitting out prior to deployment.
The administration should develop a standby contract for enrollment of vessels into naval auxiliary service in time of national emergency. Also, the administration should:
- Initiate the enrollment of industry senior personnel into the National Defense Executive Reserve.
- Design offshore service vessels with national defense features (e.g. increase the capacity of ship service electrical system, specialized securing mechanisms for skid mounts, etc.)
- Commence development of a boat manager contract.
- Review coastal defense missions for completeness and clarity.
- Commence negotiations to determine how to fund program.
- When funding sources are identified, commence procurement of defense features and open training pipelines for personnel.
- Commence study of enrolling offshore service vessels in the War Risk Insurance Program.
'See 46 CFR 340.
2Capt R.D. Bland USCG, “Controlling the EEZ- Implications for Naval Force Planning,” Naval War College Review, July-August 1984, pp. 23-30. 3RAdm A.P. Manning USCG, “Maritime Defense Zone Pacific C3I Issues,” SIGNAL, January 1987, p. 77.
Commander Murphy is responsible for ports, domestic shipping, and emergency planning in the Maritime Administration Centra! Region. Lieutenant Commander McFadden is the Merchant Marine Reserve Program Manager with the Naval Surface Reserve Force. Commander Havncn is vice-president of the Offshore Marine Service Association.
A New Approach
By Captain Kenneth P. Weinberg, U. S. Navy
I have spent several months reflecting upon my tour as commanding officer (CO) of a Knox (FF-1052)-class frigate. Looking back, 1 feel a deep sense of satisfaction and reward. But there are things
for SWOS
I would have done differently or changed, were I able. One of those was the preparedness of my department heads when they reported on board.
During my two-year command tour I had seven different line department
heads. Their motivation and ability to lead were outstanding. However, they all had definite shortcomings at the beginning of their tours. I believe the weaknesses resulted from their lack of exposure and experience as division officers.
The Navy must provide experiential learning in four major areas to officers before they report to their ships as line department heads. SWOS training should move out to sea—or at least to simulators.
Fighting the Ship. My line department heads came on board with only sketchy ideas of how to fight the ship. Their tactical knowledge was deficient in the following areas:
- Tactical Action Officer (TAO) Training: For most of my department heads, the TAO training they received during Surface Warfare Officer School (SWOS) was forgotten by the time they reported for duty. One of my operations officers said, “I learned what I had to [in SWOS] knowing that after the test 1 had to dump stores in order to make room for new- material.” Unfortunately, this was echoed by all my department heads. Several claimed that after TAO training, their TAO knowledge was seldom challenged. All stated that regular exercises reinforcing their TAO knowledge and tactical decision-making skills would have been beneficial.
- Standard commands: My new department heads knew only the commands to the helm and lee helm. None had a working knowledge of how to engage or search for a target using standard commands. They did know weapon parameters, such as maximum and minimum ranges and firing rates. These are important, but are only a few of the parameters that make up the tactical decision-making equation.
- Weapon and sensor employment: Their general lack of knowledge about overall weapon and sensor employment included types of ammunition versus specific targets, close-in weapon system capabilities and limitations (one tried in earnest to convince me that we should fudge with maximum hitting ranges to save ammunition), chaff employment, sonar capabilities and limitations, target search procedures for fire control radars, etc. Two of my three operations officers did not know what a fade chart was or where to find one. All were unfamiliar with the FF-1052 combat system doctrine that addresses these areas, and only one had an adequate working knowledge of the tactical memos covering the tactical towed array sonar (TACTAS).
► Information correlation: Only a third of my department heads could correlate information in the combat information center. Those who could not stated that they had never been required to do so.
These weaknesses were corrected through an aggressive weekly training program, using the overall combat systems operational test (OCSOT) and by holding TAO/CIC officer seminars and postmortems on the decision-making processes immediately after the OCSOT. My department heads were eager to learn and proved capable when given the information and practice. But teaching new department heads skills they already should have mastered was disconcerting.
Checking the Reference. Few of my new department heads had a firm working knowledge of the tactical publications that are essential to the ship’s operations. No one knew the importance of reading the general equipment descriptions in their technical manuals, and everyone had to be reminded to review basic publications and instructions, and not rely on folklore passed down from predecessors or the chief.
Training. Only three of my seven line department heads could establish and execute a realistic training program. It is surprising to me that the Navy does not spend more time training the trainers how to train. It is interesting to note that instructors at the Naval Education and Training Center are being qualified as master trainers, yet we in the fleet have assumed that all SWOS graduates, by virtue of their course completion, are master trainers. This simply is not the case. I believe the fleet needs training on setting up and presenting stimulating lectures and demonstrations, meshing training requirements with operational schedules, and, most important, time management.
ROEs and OpTasks. My new department heads had not adequately studied the rules of engagement and were uncomfortable with the gamut of operational tasks (OpTasks). They were not prepared to cope with the frequent changes often encountered during actual fleet operations and exercises.
Questioning, Sampling, and Inspecting. Some of the most important tasks of being a naval officer are to question, sample, and inspect. These skills do not appear to be reinforced during initial tours as division officers or during SWOS training. Posing questions keeps everyone sharp, eliminates misunderstandings, and serves as a basis for quality control. Many of my junior officers failed to ask questions that would have given them the opportunity to gain valuable insight about their equipment and personnel.
Quality cannot be accomplished by fiat: It is absolutely necessary to sample and train subordinates to sample. It is also necessary to depend on subordinates and place confidence in their abilities. However, as former President Ronald Reagan said, “Trust is fine, but verify.” No matter how dedicated and energetic the subordinate, there are times when things fall through the cracks, or when subordinates need help. To prevent embarrassment and to conduct continual training it is important for seniors and supervisors to set sampling priorities and perform quality control checks at regular intervals. The frequency of such checks is at the discretion of the supervisor.
Conducting a proper inspection borders on being an art form. Zone inspections should take place continually. Examinations for safety hazards, improper procedures, administration problems, security violations, damage control discrepancies, adherence to the preventative maintenance system (PMS), and the daily search for dirt and disorderly spaces
should be part of every sailor’s duties.
Damage Control. I believe every individual reporting on board ship should be convinced that damage control knowledge and participation is key to the ship’s ability to survive in combat. That is not the case. My new department heads perceived their involvement in the damage control program as having to supply a damage control petty officer (DCPO) on a regular basis—nothing more, nothing less. Upon reporting, my department heads were weak in damage control both, in terms of general knowledge, and the essentials of a successful DCPO program. Subsequently, each become an expert in damage control.
Information Management. The pundits say we are living in an information age. Considering the hemorrhage of message traffic, publications, letters, and instructions a ship receives on a weekly basis, few could refute this assertion. Our department heads, COs, and executive officers (XOs) must learn how to deal with a deluge of documents and extract what is needed to run a successful operation and combat-ready ship.
To remedy some of the training shortfalls discussed, I submit the following recommendations:
Experiential Learning. The thrust of SWOS training must change from a classroom orientation to one of experiential learning. As suggested in the Confu- cian maxim “1 hear and 1 forget; I see and I remember; 1 do and I understand,” students must put into practice what they have learned.
It is difficult to experience everything during a three-year division officer tour, and impossible to condense what should have been learned into six months of SWOS department head training. Therefore, I recommend that a significant part of SWOS training be conducted at sea and/or in a trainer to provide prospective department heads with practice in realistic conditions. My chief engineers performed well because of their “hands-on” training at Great Lakes and in the simulator in Newport. Similar exposure is necessary for all department heads. Training should include:
- Standing round-the-clock watches as TAOs
- Formulating and using OpTasks
- Researching operations and requirements using applicable publications and instructions
- Building training plans, and knowing how to train the trainers
- Conducting effective inspections (Time spent with Inspection and Survey inspectors during an INSURV would be time well spent.)
- Learning damage control theory, equipment operation, and equipment maintenance
Watchstanding. New emphasis on watchstanding is needed at SWOS. If officers received insufficient watch training experience during their tours as division officers, how can they be expected to conduct safe, effective watches as new department heads, or train the junior watch personnel who support them? What about the junior officer who spent a lot of time in the yard as a division officer, or the new operations officer reporting to a frigate after three years on board a dock landing ship? Limited manpower requirements coupled with the duty and obligation of the ship’s CO to train and qualify his officers for future challenging positions make it imperative that the CO qualify as many officers as possible. Nevertheless, when a new department head reports on board, the CO should expect a competent watchstander. Since SWOS is a training ground, why not train and reinforce the principles of strong watchstanding, both on the bridge and in CIC? This could be accomplished in two phases in repeated watches under the supervision of a SWOS master trainer:
- Phase One. Basic watchstanding: Students rotate through all positions in the CIC, including that of the TAO. Each should plan searches and direct an actual engagement. Their actions would be subject to review by instructors.
- Phase Two. Advanced watchstanding: Members of the class stand intensive round-the-clock watches in various conditions of readiness. They receive Op- Tasks, schedule changes and handle message traffic. During any given watch, they may or may not be exposed to a threat. Eventually everyone will have to react to a contact. Watch teams will work under current rules of engagement and ship’s battle orders, and live with degraded equipment performance, including imposed casualties, to simulate wartime operations. The watches should be realistic, subjecting the student to stress and sharpening his leadership skills by forcing him to make decisions and direct his subordinates. The department head candidate should demonstrate competence in these watchstanding skills as a requirement for graduation.
Shipboard Training. The SWOS should teach these junior officers how to train others. Each student should be required to:
- Set up a skeleton training program for his or her shipboard departments.
- Plan and conduct a supervised training session under the supervision of a SWOS master trainer.
- Formulate a training philosophy to carry back to the fleet.
The Navy should think about creating a shipboard billet in frigates and destroyers for a full-time training officer—a certified master trainer who could fulfill many functions now handled by the XO. This billet would ensure that training milestones are properly scheduled and executed; keep track of all training documentation; and, most important, train the wardroom and crew how to conduct training.
Cataloging Information. Tactical information has to be cataloged at shipboard level so users can pull out relevant material. The goal of this cataloging effort should be to get a major subject (for example, antisubmarine warfare) in one file—or, when this is not possible, at least to cross-reference the material. Since students use these publications daily as part of the learning process, and the SWOS staff makes them available as part of the training experience, SWOS should spearhead the effort. A fleet-wide system must be developed and implemented.
Damage Control. Every department head on board ship is a potential damage control officer. Therefore, repeated and intensive training in all aspects of damage control theory, equipment operation, equipment maintenance, and the damage control petty officer program must be part of the curriculum. Department heads must expect at least the same level of knowledge from their subordinates.
When new department heads report on board, they should have been exposed to many of the experiences they will face in their department. Department heads come from a variety of backgrounds, and many will anchor departments in which they have had no experience. Therefore it is imperative that they be completely prepared for duty by SWOS. It is time to try an approach to department head training that emphasizes “doing” rather than classroom listening. The costs incurred in revamping the curriculum will be offset by the dividends paid in increased department head efficiency and departmental readiness.
Captain Weinberg is a Federal Executive Fellow at The Senior Seminar, Department of State Foreign Service Institute. Previously he was commanding officer of the USS Connole (FF-1056).
The CVs Are Not Enough
By Rear Admiral Martin D. Carmody, U. S. Navy (Retired)
“The most important task from the very outset of war will be to destroy enemy carrier-based units. ... We must strive to annihilate the carriers before they come within launching range; we must destroy their protective forces and supply sections; and we must destroy regions where they are based. ... An effective means of combatting the carriers and other surface ships are rocket carrying nuclear submarines. . . . Carriers can be successfully combatted with long range naval aircraft armed with air-to- surface rockets; these planes can strike without coming into range of the carrier units’ air defense system.’’
These excerpts are direct quotes from Soviet doctrine.
Soviet strategy employs missile-carrying submarines and long-range aircraft as offensive weapons against U. S. naval forces and sea lines of communication (SLOC). This raises serious questions about the composition of a battle group and its ability to conduct simultaneous antisubmarine warfare, antiair warfare, and strike warfare on a sustained basis.
The strategy depends on air bases in client countries in Africa, the Middle East, Central America, and the Pacific Basin to support long-range bombers interdicting sea lines of communication worldwide. Seaports in those countries will support Soviet nuclear submarines, enabling them to intercept, track, and attack battle groups or convoys with impunity.
A glance at a map reveals the vulnerability of sea lanes vital to U. S. and allied forces. Equally disturbing is the Soviets’ well-rehearsed tactical coordination between their missile-launching submarines and the long-range aircraft that provides continuous tracking and terminal guidance for missiles.
Dangerously implicit in the national decision to field 14 carrier battle groups with one carrier each is the inference that they will be adequate to discharge the Navy’s primary responsibility for sea control in designated theaters around the world. The notion that a total of 14 carriers can provide the requisite air support requires a critical evaluation. In the first place, we are ignoring the lessons from carrier combat operations in World War II. It is highly questionable that a single carrier battle group can function effectively, on a sustained basis, when confronted with a continuous air and submarine threat. Even in peacetime, a single carrier battle group deployed to a crisis area invites another Stark (FFG-31) incident.
During World War H, the Korean War, the Vietnam War and recent Mediterranean operations, no combat action was undertaken without at least two carriers. During the last real war-at-sea engagements in the Pacific theater in 1944-45, Task Force 38/58 rarely ventured into combat with less than 12 carriers. Those task forces were composed of three task groups, each with two Essex-class carriers (CV) and two light carriers (CVL). Each Essex-class carrier carried a complement of 90 aircraft, while the light carrier’s complement was 38. This number provided each group with 256 aircraft which, in turn, gave Task Force 38/58 more than 768 fighter and attack aircraft to conduct strikes against land and sea targets, support amphibious operations, conduct ASW, and simultaneously defend the force involved. Of equal importance, Task Force 38/58 was supported by a significant logistics train, protected by 10-15 escort carriers (CVE). Thus, it took more than 20 carriers (CV, CVL, CVE) to achieve victory at sea in just one theater of operations.
The Navy’s current and future responsibilities in multiple theaters of operations are infinitely more demanding than World War II operations. Battle groups will be confronted with around-the-clock, around-the-compass threats from aircraft and submarines. They will seldom, if ever, enjoy the advantage of defending along a single threat axis. Worse, the nature of the threats—from nuclear submarines and long-range aircraft armed with missiles with ranges of 100-300 miles— will require additional carrier decks in the battle groups to provide the numbers and types of aircraft needed to cope with these threats. This need will be particularly critical during simultaneous campaigns in widely scattered theaters, where the transfer of forces cannot be readily achieved. Each battle force must have the self-sufficiency required to wage continuous war at sea. Historic precedent indicates that the Navy should have at least eight to twelve carriers available to insert into any theater of operations.
It is important to note that the current inventory of 14 carriers has fewer total aircraft available for strike operations than were embarked in Task Force 38/58. Furthermore, only 60% of the aircraft in
today’s carrier air wing have attack and fighter capability, while the balance of the aircraft are in general support or ASW roles. This further substantiates the case for additional carrier decks: arguably, at least double the number now planned.
Unquestionably, the budget will drive decisions, and the inevitable reaction will be “we can’t afford it.” Such outcries notwithstanding, the nature and severity of the threat cannot be ignored and the Navy must continue to look for ways out of the dilemma. For example, is there any way that the Navy could double its present carrier capability without doubling or tripling the investment?
We should reexamine the CVL concept that contributed so much to strike warfare and task force defense during World War II. A CVL built on a fast container-ship hull could potentially increase the present battle group air capability by more than 60%—at less than one-fourth the cost of a large deck. A CVL in each battle group would provide additional deck space for antiair warfare, attack, ASW, airborne early warning and electronic warfare aircraft, plus vital in-flight refuelers. The power of the World War II task group with its two large CVs and two CVLs could be our goal.
I am suggesting neither a low threat sea control ship nor a CVL to replace any of the 14 CVs. Neither is there any intent to diminish the vital role of surface ships and submarines in a battle group. What I advocate is an alternative concept that would increase the Navy’s ability to sail in contested waters. The key is an economically acceptable way of increasing carrier decks and deployable aircraft in order to ensure sea control in designated areas. The addition of one or more CVLs in each battle group would provide flexibility and staying power without an attendant increase in escorts or any other increase in the number or size of the force.
The CVL should be an austere carrier that would be strictly an adjunct to the CV. Its primary (if not sole) purpose would be to provide additional aircraft for strike support, ASW, and antiair warfare. The “L” in the CVL would denote the limited capability of the ship, which would be completely dependent on the CV or other command ships for the command and control of aircraft operations. This would eliminate the necessity for an expensive electronic command-and- control suite. Shipboard electronics
I
would be limited to navigation radar, electronic countermeasures, expendable deceptive devices and a carrier landing system. It should have an emission- secure communications system for the exchange of information within the force, and long-haul communications. Installed weaponry should be limited to close-in defense systems.
The CVL prototype could be one of a family of fast, turbine-driven container ships with a ship-length deck and an angled deck. It should include two lightweight catapults in the bow and four cross-deck arresting pendants. The island structure should be eliminated to reduce profile and to increase deck parking space. Wind breaks, similar to blast deflectors, could be installed to provide topside wind protection where needed. A system for maneuvering the ship from below-decks remote control stations should be provided. If an air control station is deemed necessary, a single telescoping shaft to house primary flight operations could be installed on the starboard side. This same enclosure could be used for underway replenishment and docking.
All air wing support spaces should be prefabricated ashore and built to portable container dimensions. Dependent on the tailoring of the embarked air wing, appropriate modules would be hoisted aboard, installed in predetermined locations, and plugged into ship’s power. The prefabrication of other ship’s spaces such as ready rooms, communications, intermediate maintenance, etc., should be examined. This modular-capability concept could reduce basic ship construction costs and facilitate squadron rotation and equipment changes, as well.
The weapons storage spaces should be designed to handle only self-defense, ASW, and antiair warfare weapons, thus eliminating the need for heavy ammunition elevators. The CVL should have the capability to launch and recover every aircraft in the air wing plus a large C-130-type logistics aircraft, and unmanned air vehicles.
The carrier should have the capacity and capability to house, maintain and operate any combination of ASW (fixed and rotary wing), airborne early warning, electronic countermeasures, and tanker aircraft. The aircraft complement might also include special electronic warfare reconnaissance aircraft, at least two divisions of F-14s and F/A-18s, a four- to six-plane air-sea rescue unit, and a complete unmanned air vehicle detachment.
Thus constructed and outfitted, every CVL would have the capacity to add 5060 sorely needed aircraft to whatever battle group assigned.
Fourteen CVs will not be sufficient to provide around-the-clock, sea control in those world sea lanes of vital importance to national security. To remain a viable force in the defense of the nation, the
Light carriers, such as the USS Cabot (CVL-28), augmented the strike, ASW, and antiair capabilities of World War II task forces built around Essex-class carriers. Modern light carriers, such as those advocated by the author, could perform a similar mission today.
Navy must give priority attention to providing sufficient air power at sea. To this end, the CVL concept should be fully explored.
The oft-quoted words of Alfred T. Mahan are not lost on the Soviets:
“It is not the taking of individual ships or convoys, be they few or many, that strikes down the money power of a nation, it is the possession of that overbearing power on the sea which drives the enemy’s flag from it, or allows it to appear only as fugitive; and which by controlling the great common, closes the highways by which commerce moves to and from the enemy’s shores.”
Rear Admiral Carmody’s carrier experience encompasses 36 years and three wars. During World War 11, he flew SBDs from the USS Enterprise (CV-6) and SB2Cs from the USS Bunker Hill (CV-17); during the Korean War, he commanded VF-124 (F-4Us) on board the USS Oriskany (CVA-34); and during the Vietnam War he commanded the USS Kitty Hawk (CV-63) and Carrier Division One. From 19711974, he was Commander, Operational Test and Evaluation Force.
Golden Oldies
Compiled and edited by Clay Barrow
Just as there is no statute of limitations on laughter, there is no such thing as an old sea story to one who has never heard it before. All of the anecdotes—short, nautical narratives of interesting, amusing, or biographical incidents—that will appear in this space in the months and years ahead will have withstood the passing of at least 30 years since their first publication in Proceedings.
__________________ Unflappable on the Implacable------------------------------------
Several years ago, the Commander-in-Chief of the British Home Fleet arrived on the quarterdeck of HMS Implacable. It was his habit to initiate some sort of practice emergency drill immediately on coming on board one of the aircraft carriers. Looking at the duty lieutenant commander, he took off his hat, threw it on the deck, and said, “All right. That’s an incendiary bomb. What are you going to do about it?” The duty lieutenant commander promptly kicked the hat over the side.
R. S. Blake
_______________ Aye, Tear The Tattered Ensign Down---------------------------------
A newly commissioned ensign on board his first ship was having a rather rough time of it, being inexperienced in the ways of the sea. His confidence began to increase, however, when he discovered that many of the crew members were referring to him as “Tackline.” Although not quite sure of the meaning of this term, the ensign was pleased that the old hands had tagged him with a salty
nickname. .
One day he came upon a book about the origins of sea terms, which defined tackline as a divider of light line between flags on a signal hoist.” Puzzled as to how this could apply to him, he asked the chief signalman if he knew the modern meaning of the word.
“Sir,” the chief replied, “A tackline is six feet of nothing.”
J. S. Hayes
_______________________ No Comment--------------------------------------------
The Chief of Naval Operations was holding a news conference in Canada. He was asked what he had to say about the kidnapping of American sailors at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. "Nothing,” he answered, “that’s international business and I’ve got to stay out of that.
“But,” persisted the reporter, “the Commander-in-Chief of the Atlantic Fleet said something about it, didn’t he?”
“No,” answered the CNO. “He just said ‘nothing’ in more words.”
H. E. Padgett
__________________________________ High and Dry------ --------------------- -- -- -- ----------
Two Naval Academy classmates chanced to find themselves in the Norfolk Naval Shipyard, where their respective commands were undergoing overhauls before the 1907 round-the-world cruise. They had not seen each other for 20 years, so a luncheon on board ship was immediately arranged. In those days, it was possible to serve sherry and the luncheon was convivial, with one reminiscence after another until finally it was time for the guest to leave.
“Have one more,” urged the host, “and I’ll send you back in my gig ” He rang for his orderly and told him to have the officer-of-the-deck (OOD) call away the gig. Nothing happened for ten minutes and, after another small libation, the orderly was sent to the quarterdeck again.
After another wait, the skipper himself boiled up on deck, called the OOD, and roared, “Send for your relief! You’re in hack for ten days!”
“Aye, aye, sir,” answered the OOD. He called his relief, turned the deck over to him, and
started below. .
“Young man,” said the skipper, “I am astonished at your behavior. You failed to carry out my orders and humiliated me before my guest. Why didn’t you get my gig alongside when I ordered
it?” .
The OOD saluted. “Captain, we’re in drydock,” he said, as he disappeared down the hatch.
A. M. Charlton