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By Lieutenant Colonel J.J. Kratz, U.S. Marine Corps
The need for F/A-18s—or similar aircraft—in a Marine Corps that will rarely go it alone, is questionable. I submit that U.S. Navy or U.S. Air Force aircraft will always be available to support the Marine Corps during joint operations.
An aviation combat element (ACE) with AV-8Bs, helicopters and V-22s, KC-130s, and a limited number of two- seat variants of the F/A-18 for forward air controller, airborne [FAC (A)] missions, and night or all-weather attack, would give a Marine air-ground task force all the organic aviation capability it needs. It would be less expensive and would provide us with a rational, doctrinally acceptable method of extracting ourselves from the almost continuous fight over the control of Marine Corps tactical aviation and the accompanying debate over the proper functions of the Joint Force Air Component Commander (JFACC).
Capable but expensive aircraft with the F/A-18’s capabilities are sought after by
The Marines have had an air-ground package deal for many years—but times change. Would voluntarily giving up single-seat F/A-18s play into the hands of those who would dismantle Marine aviation, or would it benefit the Corps?
joint force commanders, who want them, of course, to conduct missions in support of their joint task force. If there is a U.S. Air Force component, the usual arrangement, there will invariably be pressure to designate a JFACC from the service with the preponderance of aviation, which will probably be the Air Force; which in turn may be counted on to push for as much autonomy and control as possible—to include operational control—over intheater tactical air assets.
This really does not have as much to do with simple service parochialism as it does with being true to one’s own service doctrine. Air Force doctrine advocates a single manager for air and something called centralized control and decentralized execution. Being equally true to their service doctrine, the naval services (the Marine Corps in particular) have been pugnacious, vociferous—and even, at times, eloquent—in defending their own doctrine, which regards aviation as one of several supporting arms in the combined arms packages the naval services call Marine air-ground task forces (MAGTFs) and battle groups.
While this is not an attempt to dictate the correct way to organize a JTF, the truth is that it remains a very serious point of contention every time Air Force and Marine Corps forces are part of a JTF-
A case in point: during the early stages of Desert Storm, F/A-18s conducted deep strike and deep interdiction missions for the joint force (JF). There was concern that when the ground war started and 1 Marine Expeditionary Force finally entered the fray as a MAGTF—with an expected quantum jump in close air support (CAS) requirements—those very capable but very expensive F/A-18s would remain under the control of the JFACC, never truly supporting the MAGTF commander. Perhaps because the ground war lasted only 100 hours, Marine Corps F/A- 18s flew only eight sorties per day for the JFACC and were available to I MEF the rest of the time.
From the Marine Corps viewpoint, there is scant logic in advertising itself as a combined arms force if what it really does is provide assets. The key, it would seem, is to maintain an aviation combat element that meets, but does not substantially exceed MAGTF requirements. This would do several things:
- Eliminate the burden of maintaining an aircraft that is costly in terms of both money and manpower but has little chance of operating as an integral part of a MAGTF.
- Allow the Marine Corps to concentrate on short takeoff/vertical landing (STOVL) aircraft like the AV-8B, designed to fly CAS and limited deep air support missions with an immediate impact on the ground battle, serving as true supporting arms for the commander.
- End the seemingly interminable battle for the control of Marine tactial aviation. The U.S. Air Force has rarely displayed any real interest in aircraft like the AV-8 because they cannot perform the missions the Air Force sees as its charter: air defense, offensive antiair warfare, deep air support, aerial reconnaissance, and electronic warfare. Let the Air Force—or the Navy—do those jobs for us; they will do so, with relish.
- Force the use of unmanned aerial vehicles for short-range reconnaissance at a fraction of the cost of a dedicated or
Wulti-mission aircraft.
' Reduce the requirement for Air Force inkers and a return to amphibious ship- f|ng and self-deployment, refueling from RC-130E/Fs, to ensure a naval capability to deploy a STOVL aviation combat element- The MV-22 would complete the Package, self-deploying along with the “*-8Bs, and getting a vertical-lift capacity into the fight quickly.
' Provide substantial savings in aviation C01T1mand and control manpower and Ct)uipment. Ground control intercept and other fighter, deep interdiction, and re- c°nnaissance-related aviation requirements could be deleted, j Reduce Marine Corps interest in JPACC issues. While the Marine Corps’s 'ondamental position on functionalism, and its opinion on the continuing parade of new “Joint Force XXXXX Commanders ’ for various military functions constantly being created by the drafters of Joint doctrine will probably never change, the decision makes much of the acrimony over JFACC moot.
A related but touchy subject, is to enSUre ourselves a CAS capability that is attuned to working with the ground combat element, knows how a MAGTF controls aviation in its own area of responsibility, and can deliver ordnance safely close to ground forces.
A sad example of what can happen if this is violated occurred during Desert Storm. Aircraft from other services were °Perating uncontrolled—at least by MAGTF agencies—and unsolicited, short of the MAGTF’s fire support coordination line (FSCL); eight Marines died and their light armored vehicle was destroyed when an aircraft fired on the vehicle by mistake.
For years, Marine Corps direct support artillery batteries have supported the same infantry battalions. The logic is that forking with the same people day-inday-out is the best way to operate efficiently and safely. While it may not be Practical to pair up ground units with supporting aircraft, it is both practical and essential that a MAGTF have its own CAS capability. We expect our CAS to he available upon demand; we do not expect to have to compete for our own aircraft via the apportionment process. We expect it to be able to deliver ordnance accurately and safely on the targets that the commander wants attacked.
In short, we expect the same good service from our aviation as we expect from our artillery. The Army realizes this and has attempted to develop a CAS capability of its own with attack helicopters.
Although I can hear the outraged bellows of the Marine Corps “Fighter
Mafia,” it is time to restructure our aviation for the future. We can no longer afford our infatuation with expensive aircraft whose capabilities exceed our requirements. The diehard proponents of Marine fighter-attack aircraft must acknowledge what the Marine Corps does: field combined arms units called MAGTFs.
We are not in the business of maintaining expensive, very capable multimission aircraft on the assumption that we will some day be in a war all by ourselves. Aviation is at its best as a beast of burden, as a long-range precision inter- dictor, as an air defender, and as a direct fire supporter of engaged troops. The Marine Corps needs aviation as a beast of burden and as a direct fire supporter of engaged troops. We can no longer justify maintaining aviation for other missions. Other services do it better and on a scale required to make it effective.
When the sand settles from Desert Storm and the budget ax finally falls, if we are not prepared to restructure Marine aviation in a rational and fiscally prudent budget form, the Defense Department and Congress will do it for us. Unfortunately, the lessons learned from Desert Storm may be used to exculpate flawed doctrine, excuse inappropriate force structures, and marshal support for someone’s idea of what we need in the way of new high-technology weapons.
The hard facts, however, will remain; the war in the Gulf is an anomaly. The vast majority of our conflicts in the future will not be fought in open desert with huge armor, artillery, and tank formations—and no air threat. They will be
operations that require a relatively small, tailored force—perhaps what the Marine Corps calls a Contingency MAGTF (CMAGTF)—built with the traditional elements of command, ground, air, and service support, but with the mission driving the relative sizes of the elements and the task-organization.
These MAGTFs will be able to deploy by aircraft, by amphibious shipping, by maritime prepositioning ships, from virtually any ship in the Navy inventory—or by any combination. Accordingly, Marine aviation must be flexible enough to
U S. NAVY (S. ALLEN)
Equipped with more powerful engines and fitted with radar and advanced air-to-air missiles— complementing the reliable Sidewinder—new versions of the AV-8B could fill Marine requirements for a STOVL fighter.
self-deploy, or operate from ships, while still retaining the ability to move ashore and operate from primitive expeditionary airfields.
Acceptance of the post-Desert Storm military world, and the sad deaths of those eight Marines, points the way for Marine aviation. We must make these decisions both for our survival as an independent combined arms force and to ensure that we can provide aviation support for our MAGTFs in the future.
Colonel Kratz is deputy assistant chief of staff for plans and policy, Fleet Marine Force Pacific. He is an F-4 radar intercept officer and was an air liaison officer with the 3d Marines.
The F-14D Can Do It All
By Lieutenant Steven E. Harfst, U.S. Naval Reserve
and killing him before he kills you. This capability the F-14D undeniably PoS' sesses—no other aircraft in the world can match it.
A fighter aircraft in the interceptor role must be able to detect aircraft that embody stealth technology. This is directly related to a given radar’s power-aperture product. The Hornet’s low power-aperture product, a limitation caused by i(s small radome, results in short detection ranges and a weak capability against stealth targets.
In contrast, the F-14D’s large-aperture, high-power-out radar gives it an excellent counter-stealth capability. The F-14D’s radar capability far exceeds that of the Hornet in both passive and active detection ranges, and a Tomcat will always have a first-shot advantage over a Hornet. The Tomcat’s long-range, multishot, first-shot kill capability is essential to the air defense of the carrier battle group.
The recent decision by the Office of the Secretary of Defense to cancel the F-14D program in favor of an updated version of the F/A-18 has caused a great deal of concern within the Navy’s fighter community. By opposing the Pentagon and voting to restore fiscal year 1991 F-14D funding, Congress is moving in the right direction.
Although it is obvious that a replacement is needed for the aging A-6 Intruder, our colleagues have been demonstrating daily that an A-6E in the hands of a well-trained and motivated aircrew still represents an invaluable asset to the battle group commander. They have also demonstrated that there is no substitute for a night and all-weather attack capability. With the cancellation of the A-12 and the apparent massive reduction in the scope of the F-14D Super Tomcat program, we are facing a major loss in the capability of the carrier air wing.
The proposed all F/A-18E/F air wing is not the answer to the problems of power projection in the future. The Hornet was designed to replace the A-7 Corsair II, and as such has greatly enhanced the capabilities of the air wing in the fair weather, light-attack mission—but that is as far as it goes.
The F/A-18 was to be the low end of a high-low cost mix of aircraft on the carrier, a mix that was to be not only cost- effective but tactically effective as well. The Hornet, however, will never be an adequate replacement for either the A-6 or the F-14, and falls considerably short of the mark as a replacement for both. To think that the Hornet can be a replacement is short-sighted and unrealistic.
Until a long-term, cost-effective alternative to the A-12 can be found, and until the extent of the Navy’s involvement in the advanced tactical fighter program is decided, any return to a short-range, fair- weather-only attack aircraft with a limited air-to-air capability cannot be the answer. The best hope for the carrier air wing of the next 25 years exists today, but it is not the F/A-18E/F. It is the F-14D Super Tomcat.
The most sensible alternative is to continue F-14D production while developing advanced versions of the aircraft. An intelligent mix of F-14 variants to cover the medium-attack all-weather/night role and the all-weather fighter role, along with less expensive F/A-18 aircraft to cover the traditional day-attack and point defense fighter roles would be the most effective use of taxpayer dollars. It defies logic to wait for an aircraft that could be 50% more expensive than the F-14D— and still be less capable. The Super Tomcat is here today; it is not a proposal on a design sheet.
By exploiting the full air-to-ground potential of the Super Tomcat, the Navy could have—relatively quickly—a long- range, all-weather strike-fighter with capabilities comparable to those of the F-15E Strike Eagle that performed so well during Operation Desert Storm. F-14Ds can already carry high-speed antiradiation missiles, Harpoon, and a multitude of existing and new-generation air-to-ground weapons. By exploiting the current capabilities and the future growth potential of the F-14D, we can have the best solution to the problems of power projection into the 21st century—best of all, we will not have to give up any of the aircraft’s proved air-to-air capabilities.
Apparently there are forces at work in Washington that are against any future for the F-14. I do not believe it is a question of one aircraft over another, but of what mix of aircraft will allow superiority to be maintained in every tactical arena. The requirements set forth for the proposed F/A-18E/F are a reality today in the F-14D. Let us compare the capabilities of the F-14D with those of the Hornet.
First and foremost, the F/A-18 will never match the air-to-air capabilities of the Super Tomcat. Even with the addition of the advanced medium-range air-ta-air missile (AMRAAM), the limitations of the Hornet’s weapon system cannot match the performance that the Tomcat possesses today with its Phoenix missiles and powerful, large-aperture radar. While the Tomcat will carry AMRAAM when it becomes available, the Hornet will never carry the Phoenix missile, and is still waiting for a multishot capability. Surely the cost of research and development for the F/A-18E/F will far exceed that needed for upgrading the F-14D.
It is true that the F-14 has a large radar cross-section, but this is not a major tactical disadvantage. The radar cross-section of the F-14D is roughly equivalent to that of the Air Force F-15E, which has had combat success in the Persian Gulf. It would be difficult to make the Tomcat smaller, but it could benefit from new stealth technology. The key to success in aerial combat is locating and engaging the enemy—despite heavy electronic countermeasures and stealth technology—
Long-wave infrared search and track (IRST) systems can help defeat stealth technology and the IRST system currently on the F-14D is a quantum improvement over any other passive detection system in the world. This passive ; capability will be a crucial advantage in future aerial combat. Aircraft employing stealth technology cannot hide from the proved combination of the IRST and the APG-71 radar. With its powerplant and the inherent advantages of variable geometry wingsweep, the Super Tomcat clearly owns the engaged maneuvering 1 arena. The aircraft’s variable engine inlets give it the speed necessary for survival in combat and the size of the F-14’s engine nacelles will permit it to accept new engines, such as those designed for the advanced tactical fighter, and cruise j supersonically without afterburner.
On the other hand, the Hornet’s fixed inlets are a liability, denying it the flexibility to achieve higher airspeeds—and speed can be life.
Given similar loads, the Tomcat has about a 200-knot advantage over the Hornet—either going in to the target or j leaving. This recognized liability of the Hornet directly affects aircrew survivability. Clearly a larger Hornet, such as the Hornet 2000, would be seriously underpowered in many situations.
The Hornet has an acknowledged range problem. External fuel tanks may alleviate this problem, but they degrade many of the Hornet’s tactical advantages.
The F/A-18 cruise configuration—two VVlng-tanks plus a centerline tank—gives !he aircraft radically different maneuvering capabilities compared to a clean Hornet. Even with three tanks, the Hornet s range is still limited, the amount of ordnance it can carry is reduced, its air- to-air capabilities are limited, and it still requires extensive tanker support.
Planning around the Hornet’s range [imitations is a hindrance to the rest of the “attic group since the Hornets monopoly air wing tanking assets, and often require outside assistance. The F-14D has more than twice the range and significant advantages in on-station time, compared to the Hornet; and carrying external tanks does not degrade the aircraft’s ordnance CaPability.
The F-14 is the only air-wing aircraft to at can carry four 2,000-pound bombs, Plus air-to-air armament, and recover without expending its ordnance. The Hornet cannot even taxi with that kind of ordnance load. Once airborne, the Tomcat can carry a heavier payload twice as far, stay longer, and egress faster than the Hornet.
The size of the F-14 also equates to growth potential—its internal fuel capacity alone can be increased by 20%. Some point out that the Hornet’s relatively small size means more of them can be based on board carriers than can F-14s but this is not necessarily true. The Tomcat’s landing gear design permits it to be spotted with much of its fuselage overhanging the deck edge.
As brought out during recent testimony before congress, the Hornet requires major modifications—including fuselage plugs and larger wings—to perform its new mission. It will be a completely new aircraft, requiring extensive flight testing
Why should wc spend billions to upgrade the F/A-18 when the F-14D is ready today for the air-to-air mission—and with modest upgrades can become a superior air-to-ground attack aircraft?
before becoming operational.
The fleet needs an aircraft with advanced technology and capabilities today—not at some undetermined date in the future. Minor changes to the existing, proved F-14D would be cost-effective. Software developments adding the air-to- ground capability to the F-14D are already paid for and due for introduction in 1993. Why throw away a proved, carrier- capable aircraft that can meet the fighter and medium-attack requirements well into the 21st century?
Betting on the capabilities of any advanced tactical fighter (ATF) is risky. Will the ATF contract winner really be able to adapt the F-22/23 to the carrier? How long will we have to wait? And while we wait, how many antiquated aircraft will be forced to fly into combat? The Super Tomcat is here today.
Lieutenant Harfst flies F-14s with VF-111 in Carrier Air Wing-15. He graduated from the University of Washington, was commissioned via Aviation Officer Candidate School, and was designated a naval aviator in 1989.
Battleships 1991: An Assessment
By William R. Nichols, Jr.
ft
The contemporary media know three things about the Iowa (BB-61)-class battleships:
^ Firing the 16-inch gun is like throwing a small car twenty miles.
^ The ships’ armor is a foot thick.
^ The battleships were built for a naval era that ended with World War I.
This message is transmitted to a society that lives in times of rapid and dramatic technological advances. In this context, any hardware that is old—or at toast older than some of the people confined—is by definition obsolete, of dubious utility, and probably dangerous.
The decision has been made to retire all four battleships, a decision that appears to have been influenced by two factors:
► Lack of detailed knowledge. Few people are really familiar with the battleships. Few people understand their unique value.
► Emotion, driven by the Iowa (BB-61) accident. One answer to a perceived concern is to eliminate it. Then, the problem no longer exists.
But when it comes to power projection, the U.S. Navy has only two classes of ships that can destroy targets by measured, sustained delivery of major ordnance: the big-deck carrier and the battleship. Amphibious warfare ships have different missions; submarines operate in different worlds; and cruiser-destroyer capability is insignificant in the context of power projection. Admittedly, the battleship as configured today has two very significant limitations—main battery
weapon range and air defense capabilities. The battleship’s Tomahawk missiles, whose range—but not payload—is comparable to that of manned aircraft, have been excluded from the following discussion, which concentrates on the ship’s 16-inch batteries. The Tomahawks have in fact increased the ship’s long- range delivery capabilities, as evidenced by the recent air campaign against Iraq.
Range: The battleship’s guns are severely limited in range when compared to carrier aircraft. Its capabilities within these limitations, however, merit examination. There is a wealth of detail available on the success of battleship main batteries during World War II, Korea, Vietnam, and most recently in support of Desert Storm. Also, there have been numerous studies of battleship targeting in various scenarios. The very nature of warfare at the water’s edge creates targeting requirements.
Compare carrier and battleship capabilities against targets within range of the battleship’s 16-inch guns:
- Ammunition capacity. The 16-inch projectile capacity exceeds 1,200 projectiles—high-capacity 1,900-pounders and also armor-piercing versions that weigh 2,700 pounds. This weight of ordnance is equivalent to the offensive ordnance payloads of the big carriers, if you compare weights of destructive ordnance on target: bomb, warhead, projectile.
- Response time. The battleship can respond to calls for fire as quickly as an orbiting aircraft, and far faster than can an aircraft on strip alert.
Our fleet naval gunfire capabilities are rapidly being reduced from awesome to not-so-awesome. The 5-inch/ 54 caliber guns—(right) on the Arleigh Burke (DDG-51) and (inset) on the USS Fife (DD-991) practicing in the Persian Gulf—are poor substitutes for the USS Wisconsin’s (BB- 64) 16-inch main batteries (facing).
- Short-term sustained delivery. The 16- inch battery can deliver a greater weight of ordnance per unit of time than carrier- launched aircraft.
- Long-term sustained delivery. The battleship can maintain continuous fire for as long as required. Battleships have no time requirements analogous to those of the carrier to recover, service, re-arm, and launch aircraft on successive strikes.
- Equipment and personnel exposure. A projectile does not risk an airframe or flight crew, now that unmanned air vehicles are used to spot the fall of shot.
- All-weather capability. The 16-inch gun can be fired in wind conditions, sea states, and visibility that would preclude carrier flight operations. Weather may curtail airborne spotters. Call fire in close support of ground troops with ground spotters is available in all weather.
- Countermeasure susceptibility. The incoming projectile is on a ballistic flight path and is not susceptible to electronic or physical decoy countermeasures. A steel- cased projectile following a ballistic path is not readily shot down.
The elements of comparison noted above are not a matter of opinion. They have been quantified and tabulated at length over the years. Sixteen-inch gun range is presently limited to about 20 nautical miles but the weapons community has (or did have) a 13-inch sabot projectile under development that could extend the gun’s effective range out to 70,000 yards—about 35 nautical miles. By some definitions a “sub-munition,” this smaller projectile would still be larger than any other rifle projectile in the world—with the exception of its own 16- inch parent.
Air defense: The U.S. battleships are almost entirely dependent upon escorts for air defense—they carry only the short-range Phalanx 20-mm. close-in weapon system, and the five-inch guns are of limited utility against today’s high- performance aircraft. This could change. The ships are fitted with eight armored box launchers that carry 32 Tomahawks, although vertical launch systems are much more economical in terms of deck space and internal volume. Discounting
adjacent access and service areas, the foot-print and door-swing area of the eight box launchers is just slightly more than the deck area of three Mk 41 vertical launch magazines. Installation of two Mk 41 vertical launch systems would give the battleship a missile battery equal to that of any cruiser.
More to the point, the vertical launch system can accommodate both the Tomahawk and the SM-2 Standard missile— for air defense. The Tomahawk weapon control system is already in-place in the battleships, while adding the standard missiles would require weapon control systems and directors. If the armored box launchers and their below-decks support equipment are removed, however, adding the missiles would pose no real-estate or weight-moment burden on the battleship.
With a Standard missile capability, suitable weapon control data links would provide control of ships’ missiles by other ships in the task force, which would be a tremendous defensive force multiplier and provide redundant capability. The World War II battleship was not originally intended to be an antiair platform, but it became the most effective antiair ship in the fleet. The potential to achieve that same status exists today—the hardware is there.
This state-of-the-art antiair capability can be achieved without reducing the number of 16-inch guns. There have been several proposals to modify the battleships by removing one or more 16-inch turrets to provide space and weight for some other capability. But the 16-inch capability is unique, while all the proposed alternatives exist on board other ships in the fleet. Giving up this capability to gain a little more of something already commonly available, would not survive any rigorous trade-off analysis.
Almost everyone concedes that the battleships can absorb punishment; they are survivable. Conventional wisdom attributes this to compartmentation and heavy armor; while this is true as far as it
BATH IRON WORKS (INSET/G. MATHIESO^)
goes, it is not the whole story. The ships have a layered protection system—the principal horizontal and vertical systems are three and four layers deep—and the heavy armor is inside the ship, usually at the second or third layer.
The ship is subdivided internally with protective bulkheads fitted with ballistic doors. Armored trunks and ducts are provided for vital services. Ballistic compensation is provided for vital services such as combustion air that must transit armor boundaries when the ship is otherwise closed up for action. Most of the passive protection system in both mass and detail cannot be seen.
The ships were built to the concept of equivalent protection, which translates to being able to take whatever you can dish out—in this case, a 16-inch armor-piercing projectile. But there is no conventional antiship missile, air- or surface- launched, in any navy today that approaches the destructive impact of the 16-inch projectile. The ships were built to take multiple hits and continue to fight.
Redundancy is built in; the main battery computer and fire control plots are completely redundant, with two separate systems located inside the main armor. They are separated by the entire main machinery plant and are more than 250 feet apart. Redundancy, separation, and protection are provided to ensure survivability for every system required to operate the ship. One-shot soft-kill or mission-kill hits do not apply to battleships. Once again, the ships were built to absorb multiple hits and continue to fight.
Critics point out the size of the crew as a disadvantage. The reply should be— compared with what? Table 1 compares crew size and offensive capability between battleships and the guided-missile cruisers. The battleship has a manning requirement of three to four times that of a cruiser but she is orders-of-magnitude more powerful in offensive capability.
Compare the battleship with the big- deck carrier. The battleship has equiva-
Offensive weapons | Table 1 Guided-Missile Cruiser crew 400-500 | Battleship crew 1,500 |
5-inch gun | None, or 1, or 2 | 12 |
Major caliber gun | None | 9 16-inch |
Harpoon missile | 8 | 16 |
Tomahawk missile | Varies* | 32 |
*Most cruisers are not fitted for Tomahawk. Vertical launch ships can carry Tomahawk missiles. | ||
Total magazine capacity | is limited and shared with the Standard Missile for antiair warfare and | |
vertical-launch ASROC for ASW. The four Virginia (CGN-38)-class and all Aegis | cruisers are | |
“tted for Tomahawks. |
|
|
That is one objective of this discussion. ► The policy makers. Good decisions require good information, which has been lacking to date. Between the operating level and the policy level there is an interesting dichotomy. At the planning, policy, and funding level, the relationship between the aviation community and the battleship community is adversarial and competitive, since each must obtain support and funding from the same limited resources. At the operational level, some experienced aviators recognize the battleship as their best friend. As the saying goes, “Never hazard a manned aircraft
lent offensive capacity, and the particular attributes noted, but is limited in weapon range. Crew size is not difficult to compare. The battleship crew is one-fourth lhe size of the carrier crew and embarked air wing, which total about 6,000 men. The battleship is really a very economical Weapon delivery system.
The turret explosion on board the USS !°wa (BB-61) focused much adverse attention on the battleships. This discussion does not comment on the nature of the casualty nor the investigations. It did happen and 47 men were killed. What follows is an attempt to put this in perfective, relative to other accidents in the fleet.
Consider:
^ Aircraft. Fixed-wing aircraft and helicopters crash regularly. Loss of life can he high when carrying troops or passengers, and yet there is no suggestion that aircraft are too dangerous, or should be removed from the inventory.
^ Aircraft carriers. The flight deck can be dangerous. Accidents have cost lives. Accidents have forced carriers to suspend operations until the casualty was restored by ship’s force, or until extensive yard repair was accomplished. A flight-deck load of fueled and armed aircraft is an extremely hazardous environment. An operational casualty can threaten ship survival. There have been no suggestions that aircraft carriers are too dangerous and should be retired and replaced.
- Submarines. Two U.S. Navy nuclear- powered submarines and all their crew have been lost, but there has been no suggestion to disband the submarine forces.
- Battleships. A turret explosion places the entire program in jeopardy. Obviously the ships are dangerous antiques and should be retired. This initial reaction is emotional. In some quarters, however, it has been the final reaction, too.
But the decision has been made to retire the ships. Why belabor the point? There are three reasons:
- The professional Navy. In the long absence of the battleships from the fleet, knowledge of the ships simply disappeared. The battleship disappeared from familiarization and indoctrination training, publications, tactical studies, course syllabi, etc. The USS Wisconsin (BB- 64), last in the active fleet at the time, was decommissioned in March 1958. The USS New Jersey (BB-62) was recommissioned for the Vietnam War, then retired after less than two years service. With this exception, the U.S. Navy did not operate battleships for 24 years—ample time for virtually every professional to experience a full career without ever seeing a battleship. It seems reasonable that the professional Navy’s interest in warships would lead to a study of these ships.
when a projectile will do the job.”
► The future. Battleships have the following capabilities: major-caliber, long- range, relatively inexpensive weapons; rapid and sustained all-weather response; relatively invulnerable to countermeasures; and can either outrange counterbattery fire or accept counterbattery damage and continue to fight. The requirement for these capabilities will not go away— but the battleships will. In 2000 the ships will be almost 60 years old. The answer to an immediate gunfire problem then will not be available in the reserve fleet— a 45-year-old habit that will be hard to break.
Where is the successor with these capabilities? The lead time from definition of requirements to delivery of a major combatant ship is about ten years. The surface warfare successors to the battleship should be under serious, active, funded development now for employment in the next century.
William Nichols was Ingalls Shipbuilding’s program design manager for the reactivation and modernization of the USS Iowa (BB-61) and the USS Wisconsin (BB-64). While on active duty as an officer in the Navy from 1949 until 1953, he served on board the USS Wiseman (DE-667) and the USS Samuel N. Moore (DD-747). He is a previous Proceedings contributor.
Saying No in the Caribbean
By Lieutenant Paul D. Jewell, U.S. Coast Guard
One of the major centers of the world’s illegal narcotics trade is the Caribbean basin. Its nations, because of their location, are all involved in what United Nations Secretary General Javier Perez De Cuellar describes as “this wicked and widespread international conspiracy.”1
The Caribbean Sea is a geography student’s nightmare. The waters are subject to a wide variety of claims by the numerous states. The ever-shrinking extent of the high seas is interspersed with territorial claims, international straits, archipelagic waters, exclusive economic zones, and internal waters. This jumbled patchwork makes the enforcement of narcotics laws in the area difficult and complicated, and the varied claims have provided the smuggler with a certain amount of protection from U.S. Coast Guard interdiction efforts. Independent countries are highly protective of their sovereign rights and are reluctant to forfeit any that apply to their maritime interests.
Some Caribbean states, though, have been willing to allow the United States to impinge on their internationally recognized maritime rights in the attempt to stem or slow the flow of narcotics; and some non-Caribbean states have also participated in combating the problem. Overall, however, the united front professed by the United Nations General Assembly has been much less than the rhetoric would have us believe.
Narcotics use and trafficking have been of concern to the international community at least since 1912, the year the International Opium Convention entered into force. A number of other instruments followed over the next half century, until the Single Convention on Narcotic Drugs of 30 March 1961 superseded and replaced the original Opium Convention and seven additional agreements. The Single Convention has been amended since that. It and the 1971 Convention on Psycotrophic Substances are today the primary multilateral treaties concerned with stemming illegal narcotics trafficking. These two agreements commit the parties’ nations to “take effective measures to control all scheduled drugs.”2 As a result of growing international concern over the narcotics problem, rhetoric has intensified and joint declarations and high-level meetings have steadily increased. Recent significant international gatherings include the 1988 U.N.- sponsored Vienna Conference, Mrs.
Reagan’s 1985 “First Ladies” conference, the 1985 economic summit, and the Quito summit. Typically these gatherings result in general statements that, as in the case of the Quito Declaration, boldly proclaim that “Narcotics trafficking should be considered a crime against humanity”;
they then propose broad action such as the “establishment of an international fund to combat and remedy the problem.”3
To those familiar with international diplomacy, it is no surprise that these agreements and joint communiques rarely provide the ammunition with which to fight specific battles. In the Caribbean area, the real progress has come about through specific bilateral agreements and memoranda of understanding between concerned governments. It should also come as no surprise that these agreements and understandings are not cheap— almost all have had a price tag attached. Regardless of the professed international unity in this common effort against drugs, the cost has been borne disproportionately by the Caribbean nations and in particular by the United States.
Surely, the United States should not bear the brunt of this cost, given the amount of narcotics consumed here—but Europe is certainly not free from the plague. According to one source, “Europeans are essentially getting a free ride on U.S. anti-narcotic efforts . . . Europe may now be consuming 30 to 50 tons of cocaine per year, yet the Europeans have given virtually no support to U.S. efforts to combat trafficking in the region.”4
This may be, but it does not apply to the United Kingdom. Because of Great Britain’s history as a sea power, it is somewhat surprising that it has granted the United States broad enforcement powers over British nationals and vessels in the vicinity of the Caribbean Sea. The United States and the United Kingdom entered into an agreement on 13 November 1981, providing that:
- The U.K. will not object to the boarding by the U.S. of British vessels that the U.S. reasonably believes may have a cargo of drugs for import to the United States.
- If upon boarding evidence is found indicating such cargo may be aboard, the U.K. will not object to a search of the vessel.
- If narcotics are found, the U.K, will not object to the seizure of the vessel.
- The U.K. may object to a boarding after 14 days of the vessel’s entry into port if the boarding is prolonged with negative results.
- The U.K. may object to prosecution of any U.K. national within 30 days of seizure.
- The U.S. will promptly inform the U.K. of any boarding.
- Any loss or injury occurring as a result of that boarding will he promptly redressed by the U.S.
- The agreement will be subject to periodic review.5
This agreement is specifically limited to the Gulf of Mexico, the Caribbean Sea, and the Atlantic Ocean south of 30° north latitude and west of 055° west longitude—essentially all ocean areas within 150 miles of the Atlantic Coast of the United States.
It has facilitated U.S. interdiction efforts, which can be hindered by conventional international law guaranteeing freedom of navigation on the high seas and prohibiting boardings on the high seas by other states. In recent years notable exceptions have been made to this rule. When the U.S. Coast Guard encounters a foreign-registered vessel on the high seas it must, in lieu of the consent to board by that vessel’s master, petition the foreign government through diplomatic channels for a “statement of no objection" to board the vessel. A similar petitioning mechanism is used to request the flag state’s permission to seize the vessel if drugs are found during the boarding. The whole process can be cumbersome and time consuming.
This diplomatic process has been reduced dramatically in cases involving British vessels. What makes the agreement especially unusual is that there is no quid pro quo expressly stated. However, the “United Kingdom does not consider this agreement as setting a precedent for the conclusion of any further agreement
a Acting the freedom of passage of Brit- lsn ships on the high seas.”6 * he British stand alone in the Euro- ^an community with this agreement. rancc and the United States do have a jj'mor agreement related to narcotics traf- lc*'ng> but it is primarily a device to demote intelligence-sharing.
The Netherlands Antilles—Curasao, °naire, Aruba, St. Barts, St. Eustatius, and St. Maarten—are all of varying importance to the interdiction effort in the aribbean. The U.S. State Department as expressed doubts about their level of anti-smuggling commitment: a spokesman stated in 1987 that they have inher- 'ted “inadequate narcotic laws from a tstorically lax Dutch government,” al- h°ugh he conceded that those laws “are enforced.”7
The countries in the Caribbean basin nave demonstrated varying levels of c°mmitment to the interdiction effort.
spect, yet even it commonly consents to boardings of its ships by the U.S. Coast Guard.
Even Cuba has expressed an interest in cooperating with the international antidrug effort. Although the Cuban government has provided no further elaboration, it is certainly difficult to envision U.S. Coast Guard boardings of Cuban-flagged ships or U.S. patrols in Cuban territorial waters with the consent of the Castro government. There remains considerable
the drug trade. The economic fallout from the narcotics trade in the Bahamas, a major transit country in close proximity to U.S. borders, has had widespread repercussions. Allegedly, even the prime minister has received five million dollars of drug money. Yet the Bahamas has repeatedly shown extraordinary and unusual cooperation with the United Slates in the interdiction effort; a U.S. State Department representative testified that Bahamian “cooperation remains excel-
D WILLIAMS
Not coincidentally, it is often propor- ’■onal to the level of monetary or other support received either directly from the United States or through the United Nations Fund for Drug Abuse Control. Government involvement in drug trafficking *s commonly reported, while at the same time the governments actively participate in the anti-narcotics effort. Panama is certainly the most notorious in this reProceedings / June 1991
doubt as to the sincerity of Castro’s stated intentions; many believe that he is simply trying to distance himself from trafficking scandals that involved a number of his high-ranking military officers.
A particularly graphic example of a country seemingly involved in both ends of the drug war is the Bahamas. With the exception of Colombia, perhaps no other country has been as deeply affected by
The government of the Bahamas has been very receptive to U.S. initiatives aimed at stemming the drug traffic in the Caribbean. U.S. Coast Guard HH-3F helicopters assisted Bahamian police during Operation BAT (Bahamas and Turks) within Bahamian and Turks and Caicos sovereign territory.
lent.”
No other countiy has granted the United States such far-reaching enforcement powers, not only in its territorial waters but also, to a limited extent, ashore. The United States and the Bahamian governments have undertaken a number of joint enforcement efforts. U.S. Coast Guard cutters often patrol with Bahamian officers on board to eliminate jurisdictional conflicts. Other diplomatic initiatives have resulted in such highly visible operations as Operation Blue Lightning, in which the Bahamas allowed U.S. Coast Guard and Navy vessels into their territorial waters while Bahamian police made sweeps of certain islands in an effort to roust those involved in smuggling; and Operation BAT (Bahamas and Turks), in which the Bahamian government and the government of Turks and Caicos Islands permitted U.S. law- enforcement activities in and around their countries.
The Bahamas also allow a U.S.- controlled aerostat balloon on one of their islands, to provide intelligence to the United States on ship movements in and around Bahamian waters. The country has not only agreed to these initiatives but has aggressively sought additional U.S. cooperation in the interdiction effort. They have offered more opportunities than the United States seems able to afford. For example, the Bahamian government proposed that the United States use six Navy frigates to patrol Bahamian territorial waters and adjacent high seas. It also requested that the U.S. Coast Guard reactivate two icebreakers for Bahamian patrol and that all Coast Guard medium- and high-endurance cutters be equipped with air-search radars prior to patrolling Bahamian waters in order to increase their effectiveness. This prompted L. J. Smith (D-FL) to quip that future interdiction efforts in the Bahamas were likely to cost “a small navy.”
There have also been missed opportunities. One such instance occurred when the United States failed to submit a multilateral assistance treaty to the Senate for ratification until a year after diplomatic negotiations had concluded.
There are a number of agreements with smaller island countries in which they pledge “support” of the U.S. interdiction effort. This support is not always defined, but it may equate to statements of no objections issued on request, or perhaps overflight rights for surveillance aircraft. Belize and the United States have an agreement that entitles the United States to support in return for jeeps and money. Honduras has allowed the U.S. Coast Guard to conduct four 10-day patrols with Honduran officials in their territorial waters—but there remains some question as the effectiveness of these patrols. The Dominican Republic has provided two radar sites to enable the United States to monitor offshore activity. Venezuela has promised “cooperation” in the narcotics effort.
The government of Haiti provides more extensive and specific support to U.S. interdiction efforts, as detailed in the bilateral agreement of 28 August 1981. This agreement has been renewed repeatedly and contains provisions of a more concrete nature. In exchange for money, fuel, and maintenance assistance of Haitian naval vessels, the Haitians have promised to patrol the Windward Passage and “locate and report to the U.S. Coast Guard the location, direction of travel, and description of vessels suspected of narcotics trafficking.”8 In addition, the agreement allows the U.S. Coast Guard to determine which Haitian vessels will patrol, where, and when. Recently, Haitian cooperation took the form of OpBAT Haiti, an operation patterned after the successful effort in the Bahamas.
The governments of Jamaica and Mexico have also entered into bilateral agreements with the United States. Jamaica has promised to help reduce the flow of marijuana and cocaine by at least 45%, but details are not specified. Mexico’s government has a plethora of agreements, extensions, and memoranda of understanding with the United States, but none address specific maritime interdiction issues. Most are related to aerial support and eradication efforts. In spite of this great wealth of signed agreements, Mexican cooperation in narcotics interdiction effort has been described as “terrible.”9
Finally, Colombia’s contribution has been significant. In light of the fact that the Colombian government’s efforts against the drug trade are fraught with individual peril, it is no small feat what the United States and that country have been able to cooperate. In return for this cooperation, the United States pays millions of dollars to supply and maintain equipment used exclusively for interdicting drug traffic. Although Colombia’s efforts are not limited to maritime operations, specific instances can be mentioned. In 1984, during Operation Hat Trick, and in various operations afterward, Colombian officials were embarked on board U.S. Coast Guard cutters “to facilitate boardings of Colombian vessels on the high seas and to expedite entry into Colombian waters.”10 During that same operation, Colombia permitted the United States to blockade the Colombian coast while Colombian defense forces destroyed stockpiles ashore. Colombia has also been relatively forthcoming with statements of110 objection when requested by the U.S Coast Guard.
There is little question that international efforts to stem the flow of drugs through the Caribbean have been hampered by corruption, government complicity, and lack of commitment. Many countries have seen the narcotics problem primarily as a North American concern- That attitude may be slowly changing’ however.
Former Attorney General Ed Meese proposed a multinational force organized under the auspices of the United Nations or the Organization of American States to alleviate some enforcement problems perpetuated by questions of territoriality and sovereignty. The United Nations Declaration on the Control of Drug Trafficking pronounces that the problem should be combated by “all moral, legal, and institutional means at the national, regional, and international levels.”1 Now the talk needs to become action- '“Urgent Action to Combat Drug Traffic Called f°r by General Assembly,” 21 UN Monthly Chronicle. no. 10-11, 1984, p. 13.
2Op. Cit., p. 62.
3Op. Cit., p. 64.
4Report to the Committee on Foreign Affairs U.S' House of representatives, “U.S. Narcotics Control Program in Peru, Bolivia, Colombia, and Mexico, an Update: Report of a Staff Study Mission to Peru, Bolivia, Colombia, and Mexico from November 19 to December 18, 1988,” Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office, February 1989, p. 4. U.S./U K, Agreement of 13 November 1981. TIAS 10296.
"Ibid.
Report to the U.S. House of Representatives Committee on Foreign Affairs, “U.S. Narcotics Control Efforts in the Caribbean Report of a Staff Study Mission to the Caribbean, August 23-September 6. 1987,” Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office, December 1987, p. 14.
“U.S./Haiti bilateral agreement of 28 August 1981. TIAS 10597, extended periodically and most recently in August 1988.
9U.S. House of Representatives, “Review of the 1989 International Narcotics Control Strategy Report,” Washington, D.C., U.S. Government Printing Office, March 14, 1989, p. 166.
'“Report prepared for the U.S. House of Representatives Committee on Foreign Affairs, Compilation of Narcotics Laws, Treaties, and Executive Documents, Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1986, p. 562.
"“Urgent Action to Combat Drug Traffic Called for by General Assembly,” 21 UN Monthly Chronicle, no. 10-11, 1984, p. 62.
Lieutenant Jewell is at the University of Rhode Island working on a Master of Public Administration degree. From 1986 to 1989 he served as Commanding Officer, U.S. Coast Guard Group, Duluth, Minnesota. Also during that time he served as a law- enforcement detachment O in C during Caribbean winter patrols on board the USS Hoist (ARS-40), Gemini (PHM-6), and Sampson (DDG-10).
Australia’s Type 471 Submarine
By Stephen J. Sharp
Australia’s 1987 Defense White Paper directed the Royal Australian Navy support operations in the Indian and acific oceans and the new Type 471 sub- uiarines reflect the requirement for extended operations.
The aging British-designed and -built Oberon-class diesel-electric submarines are being replaced with a version of the diesel-electric Kockums Type 471. Eight submarines will be built, and the final tw° will be equipped with a Stirling- engine air-independent propulsion system. The Collins, lead ship in the class, is uamed for Admiral John Collins, the first Australian-born admiral in the Royal Australian Navy.
. The specifications called for a conven- honally powered submarine with range ?®d speed superior to the Oberon class.
* ne specifications also called for a very d'gh level of automated control, to an extent initially thought impracticable by •he designer. The requirement for automated control stemmed from the Navy’s teaditional difficulties in manning its submarines; significant reductions have in fact been achieved via automation.
The Australian Submarine Corporation has adopted a modular method of construction, which permits construction to he parcelled out among several of the six Australian states. The submarine’s seven modules can be fabricated at various remote sites and brought together for assembly; two of the modules are being huilt in Malmo, Sweden, for the first submarine.
Within Australia, there was considerable lobbying among the states concem- mg the location of the central assembly site. Port Adelaide in South Australia was •he winner. The new submarine training facility will be located in West Australia at Cockburn Sound, and the bulk of the high-technology combat system activity Will go to the state of New South Wales °n the eastern seaboard.
The new submarine is significantly different from the 1960s Oberon class, with greater displacement and beam to accommodate the technological advances of the 1980s. Kockums evolved the Type 471 Using its Nacken class as a baseline.
Given the risk inherent in meeting the requirement for Australian industry involvement, the Navy will be required to conduct the production, test, and evaluation phases carefully to reach a high standard in the product baseline. The Swedish Navy’s Nacken class is somewhat smaller, and has less range and endurance compared with the Type 471, even though many of the Swedish design features carry over.
Design features that distinguish the Type 471 from the Oberon class are:
- Single-propeller shaft driven by a large, axially-mounted direct-current (DC) motor with a liquid cooling labyrinth in its stator
- Alternating-current (AC)-powered machinery in many ship systems, which requires DC to AC solid-state inverters
- Less reliance on U.S. military specifications and more on Royal Swedish Navy standards, a practice new to Royal Australian Navy traditional engineering methodology
- Rubber mountings between the equipment skids and the submarine pressure hull, which eliminates the requirement to shock-mount each piece of equipment individually. The rubber used in the mountings has unique elastic properties and is produced by a vulcanizing process proprietary to Trellaborg AB of Sweden.
- Combat system features a triple-redundant local area network Ethernet bus linking sensors to fire-control equipment. It also uses distributed, parallel processing.
- All systems are remotely controlled; advanced technology enables three crewmen to conn the submarine.
Australia has experience with huge natural resource projects such as the North West Shelf Gas Project and resource value added projects such as the Tomago Aluminum Refinery and Port
Kembla Steel Mills, but its experience with large, complex shipbuilding projects lapsed with the closing of BHP’s Whyalla Shipbuilding Yards in South Australia. The Australian Department of Defense between 1970 and 1985 conducted large— but less complex—shipbuilding projects such as HMAS Success, the Oliver Hazard Perry (FFG-7)-class frigates, and the LST Tobruk.
As an island continent, Australia obviously should foster an efficient shipbuilding industry and the Type 471 project lends itself ideally to this enterprise. Massive shiplifts that eliminate the need for costly dry docks and graving docks, computerized construction alignment techniques using electronic spirit levels, and fast-track construction methods using statistical analysis have all been recently
Australia’s Collins-class submarines will be 246 feet long, with a beam of 25.5 feet and a draft of 22.3 feet.
The last two will be longer to accommodate air-independent propulsion.
engaged by the Australian Shipbuilding Industry.
The long-standing Australia-New Zealand-United States (ANZUS) Treaty always required Australia to provide a stabilizing force in the Western Pacific and Indian Ocean. Now, New Zealand’s withdrawal from the treaty has forced Australia to contribute considerably more resources to compensate for the loss of New Zealand’s strategic location in the resource-rich South Pacific Basin. The new Collins class—in conjunction with the U.S. nuclear-powered submarines— will be the only submarine force in the South Pacific.
In addition, few Asian nations north of Australia have submarine fleets; they depend on Australia to provide submarines to train their fleets in antisubmarine warfare.
The island states of the South Pacific have relied on Australia for a continued friendly naval presence. Criticism of both Australian and New Zealand inaction has been expressed at regular intervals since the 1987 coup in Fiji, when the Fijian military took power and dismissed the duly elected government. The racial conflict that ensued between native Fijians and Indian immigrants was such that some thought the Indian Navy might be drawn into the conflict to safeguard the Indian population in Fiji.
There are strong links between the U.S. and Australian submarine forces. The North West Cape very-low- frequency communications facility provides long-haul subsurface communications for both the Australian and U.S. submarine fleets and is manned by U.S. and Australian Navy personnel, although the Royal Australian Navy transfer is scheduled to assume full operational responsibility in 1992. The base has fostered a good working relationship, manifested in the various Kangaroo exercises.
Australian foreign policy objectives set the course for the Navy in protecting national sovereignty and contributing to world security. With detente the flavor of the month in the northern hemisphere, the Pacific will be patrolled less and less by U.S. vessels. This will require greater liaison between the Royal New Zealand and the Royal Australian Navies; perhaps a complementary operational role should be fostered rather than independent roles, as seems to be the case presently.
Both Indonesia and India maintain a submarine force and the Indian Navy is : large compared to the Royal Australia11 Navy. With the commissioning of th6 new Collins-c\ass submarines and the Australia-New Zealand defense cooperation (ANZAC) frigates, the Royal Australian Navy will become a naval force ol some size, capable of patrolling effectively the outer precincts of the Indian Ocean and the South Pacific—areas that have been the domain of the U.S. Navy- The Royal Australian Navy will also j be affected by any changes in the U.S- presence in the Philippines. If the U.S- abandons its facilities at Subic Bay, the Royal Australian and Royal New Zealand navies will be required to provide a higher profile over a larger patrol area. Failure to do so will accelerate the al- ready-visible overtures of other nations , toward claiming resource ownership of vast areas of the South Pacific and the Indian Ocean.
Stephen Sharp is Engineering Manager at Australian j Warship Systems, Ltd., the controlling tender for the : ANZAC frigate program. He has served as a project j engineer with the Australian Submarine Corporation and as a systems engineer on the Oberon-class ; submarines.
The Weakest Link
By Charles Dana Gibson
Of all the lessons from Desert Shield, the most significant one may be that the United States lacks adequate sealift. Put into the most elementary terms, this country clearly does not have the necessary elements, either in cargo ships or in the crews to man them, to move by sea any large military force unless, of course, as was the case with Desert Shield, we have time on our side and a static enemy force that offers us no initial opposition.
Whether or not sealift gets more attention, and regardless of whether we acquire more ships, a significant problem lies latent within our sealift potential, specifically with those privately owned merchant ships under time charter to the Military Sealift Command (MSC). There is a disturbing possibility that the crews of these ships, when called upon under the present system, may fail to perform the required military mission.
Under the terms of any MSC time charter, the private ship owner provides the crew and pays for the crew’s upkeep, the vessel’s fuel, and ordinary maintenance and repair. The majority of U. S.- flag merchant crews are members of an assortment of maritime unions, all of which are affiliated under the banner of the American Federation of Labor- Congress of Industrial Organizations. These unions maintain contractual arrangements with the ship owners, such contracts being periodically renewable through ordinary negotiation.
In the fall of 1984, the Masters, Mates and Pilots—a deck officers’ union— reached an impasse while negotiating with Moore-McCormack, a company then doing considerable business with the Navy. Upon failing to reach agreement with the company, MM&P called a strike. At the time of the strike, one of Moore-McCormack’s ships, a water tanker named the Mormacstar, was moored at Diego Garcia. She was there under time charter to the Navy and had been assigned as part of the Navy’s NearTerm Prepositioned Force—the predecessor of the Maritime Prepositioning Ship Squadrons that supported Desert Shield/Storm.
On 3 October 1984, Paul J. Giachetti, the tanker’s master and a member of MM&P, got a telephone call from the union’s president informing him that negotiations with Moore-McCormack had
broken off and that all masters and mates employed on Moore-McCormack ships were to cease work immediately. Apparently there was at that time some question whether the shutdown would affect ships on MSC charter.
On 6 October, Giachetti was informed by the union that the stop-work order included those vessels under charter to MSC at Diego Garcia and Subic Bay in the Philippines. The Navy meanwhile had ordered Giachetti to ready his vessel for sea as part of a deployment exercise. Giachetti chose to honor the union’s edict and accordingly refused both the Navy’s and Moore-McCormack’s orders to sail the vessel. Giachetti did tell the Navy that, although he would not sail on the exercise, he would see to the safety of the ship and would sail if an emergency affecting national security should arise.
Giachetti’s statement that he would react should he recognize a condition of i national security leaves one somewhat ; incredulous that a civilian master of a ; supply ship would deem himself competent to make such a judgment. In fact, it soon became apparent that the Navy’s view of what constituted a national secu-
ft
Jl(y requirement differed substantially rom Giachetti’s. The Mormacstar was he only water carrier available to the i ear Term Prepositioned Force in the 'ndian Ocean, and as such, was an essen- hal part of that force. At the outset of the 'jMke, Vice Admiral W. H. Rowden, Commander, MSC, had wired all ship- P'ng companies affected by the MM&P strike, stating that the labor action •••impacts adversely on our national Security and reflects adversely on the capabilities of the U.S. Merchant Marine to support the Armed Forces.” Giachetti 'v^s aware of that message. As a result of Ciachetti’s refusal to obey the ship owner and the Navy, the U.S. Coast Guard, 'vhich under civil law is responsible for [he discipline of merchant mariners, br°ught him up on administrative review. As a result of that review, a Coast Guard Administrative Law judge on 13 November 1985 ruled Giachetti guilty of barra- hy. having committed an illegal job action in wrongfully refusing to sail his ['essel as ordered by the ship’s owner and by the Navy. Giachetti’s license as master was then revoked by the Coast Guard.
. Subsequent to the Administrative Law judge’s ruling, Giachetti filed an appeal "dth the Commandant of the Coast Guard. On 23 August 1988, Vice Admiral Clyde T. Lusk, Jr., then acting Commandant, overturned the Administrative Law judge’s ruling.1
Lusk said in his decision, “It has been 'he Coast Guard’s policy to avoid the appearance of partisanship in maritime tabor controversies.” Citing previous cases by way of substantiation, Lusk took 'he further position that Giachetti had not v>olated any criminal statute and concluded that under 46 CFR 5.71, “It is the °bject of this regulation to prevent this statutory machinery from becoming a foil lr> the hands of either side of a maritime tabor controversy under any circumstances.”
The Coast Guard’s position in the Giachetti case provides an excellent illustration of the changes that have transpired since World War II. During that war, the uiilitary exercised control over merchant uiarine masters and ships’ crews.
The Navy in 1937 said it needed that authority as a standby measure to be invoked during time of war, if required. Out of a declared need that such control "'as necessary, the Navy in 1942 instituted this right of discipline over civilian crews whenever a merchant ship was Within a theater of active military operations. At the time, the Navy had declared all waters beyond U.S. territorial seas to be theaters of war.
The Navy’s authority to exercise this control changed during the 1950s and early 1960s, when a series of civil appeal court rulings—citing the Fifth Amendment—determined that the military could not impose discipline on civilians, even though they might be accompanying the armed forces overseas within active zones of war.
The Supreme Court, in certiorari, agreed with the lower courts. In none of the cases, however, did the courts address circumstances involving civilians actually in the employ of the government, who were at the time operating in direct support of military operations. In fact, in at least one of the cases, the inference was made by the court that such a direct support role would properly justify military jurisdiction.2
Given the legal situation since the 1950s and 1960s, the dependability of the U.S. Merchant Marine as a fourth arm of the nation’s defense is open to question. The Giachetti case is proof positive that corrective action must be taken. Clearly, the civilians who man MSC-chartered ships should be subject to the same discipline as armed forces personnel. Fortunately, we already have a law that provides a framework for change, with a minimum of legislative restructuring. The tool at hand is section 7113 of Chapter 46 of the U.S. Code. Amendments to this statute would produce the desired result.
Section 7113 is a recodified 1896 statute that was originally designed to provide a pool of merchant marine officers to man the Navy’s auxiliaries at a time when war with Spain seemed imminent. The statute, despite its many recodifications, has drifted along within the U.S. Code, virtually ignored since the turn of the
In 1984, the skipper of the Mormacstar (here on builder’s trials in San Diego in 1975) refused to get underway for a deployment exercise, even though his ship was then chartered to the Military Sealift Command. Sounds like mutiny? Guess again—his union was on strike.
century. As written, it provides for mobilizing merchant marine officers into merchant marine service by, in effect, drafting them, although the wording is vague concerning implementation of the draft.
While serving, they would receive the same benefits as members of the armed forces if they were wounded or killed. The seamen affected would remain entitled to the same wages prevalent within the merchant marine. What section 7113 needs to make it applicable to today’s sealift requirements, is provisions for bringing merchant marine personnel under the same disciplinary code as the armed forces.
Following are recommendations for revising section 7113 to bring it in line with the 1990s. Legislation aimed toward a more responsive and reliable fourth arm of defense, will help eliminate the specter of another Giachetti case occurring at the wrong time and in the wrong place.
The suggested additional language is in italics.
- A licensed officer, a holder of a certificate of registry, or a holder of a merchant mariner’s document, whenever actively serving on an oceangoing vessel subject to Part B of this subtitle, during time of declared war or of a Presidentially proclaimed emergency affecting
danger to shipping, is not liable to draft except for performing duties authorized by his or her license, certificate of registry, or merchant mariner’s document.
- Whenever any vessel subject to Part B of this subtitle is under charter to, or otherwise in service with or accompanying the Armed Forces, the officers and crews when actually serving aboard such vessels during time of war or during time of Presidentially proclaimed national emergencies or emergencies affecting the public safety, shall become immediately subject to all those provisions of the Uniform Code of Military Justice applicable to civilians serving with the armed forces in the field [Section 802, Title 10, U.S.- Code],
- When performing service with or accompanying the armed forces, such licensed officers, holders of Certificates of Registry or holders of merchant mariner’s documents are entitled to the same rates of wages paid in the merchant marine of the United States for similar services.
- When in performance of crewmember duties aboard vessels under charter to or otherwise accompanying the Armed Forces, such licensed officers, holders of certificates of registry, or holders of merchant mariner documents are killed or disabled or taken prisoner by the enemy, they and their heirs are to be entitled to all the benefits and privileges afforded to those killed, disabled, or prisoners of war under those laws as administered by the Department of Veterans’ Affairs as are provided to members of the Armed Forces [Title 38, U.S. Code].
- Paragraph 4 of this act shall not
apply to those whose service with or accompanying the Armed Forces was performed prior to the date of the enactment of this amendment.
My research indicates authority to subject civilians to the uniform Code of Military Justice, as suggested in paragraph 2 of the proposed amendment, is not in conflict with any of the standing case law regarding the imposition of military law over civilians. The seamen who would be covered under this suggestion clearly leave the civilian population once they have joined the crews of vessels that have become ships under charter to a naval or military force.
Ships serving with or accompanying the armed forces in the field become naval auxiliaries, as defined by the Department of Navy’s law of Naval Warfare (Naval Warfare Publication [NWP]-9, paragraph 2.1.2.3, as revised in 1989).’ This definition can bring the crews of these ships within the disciplinary authority of the military, which is allowed by the 5th Amendment to the Constitution.
The proposal’s inclusion of the phrasing “national emergencies, or emergencies affecting the public safety,” which is to be established only upon “Presidential proclamation,” and the further wording, “when actively serving,” would seem to satisfy all the strictures of the 5th Amendment. Such conditions of employment, as they are stated in paragraph 2 of the suggested revision to section 7113, were not applicable in any of the cases of the 1950s or 1960s in which the federal civil courts overturned military convictions of civilians.
My suggested revision would create a militarization of the merchant marine during times of emergency, hardly aI1 unusual circumstance. Under extant statutes, there is precedent whereby personnel so affected have already been subjected to the Uniform Code of Military Justice. I point specifically to personnel of the U.S. Public Health Service and those of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration officer corps who, when assigned to duty with the military, become subject to the code. The practicality of depending on sealift from a “business as usual” industry to support the military during times of emergency is a near suicidal policy.
If the merchant marine is to be considered truly a part of our defense team, then it and its personnel must be integrated into the overall defense organization: This requires authority to control and discipline crews. If the maritime industry refuses to accept such a premise, then the total responsibility for sealift should shift to the Department of Defense. The matter of sealift is far too important to allow any other political considerations to hold sway over it.
'The appeal number was 2470.
2Latneyv. Ignatius 416 F 2d, 821, 135 U.S. App Dc 65],
Mr. Gibson wrote Merchantman? or Ship of War. which deals with the legal status of merchant ships and seamen in wartime. A civilian seaman in the Army Transport Service during World War II, he served as a deck officer with the Military Sea Transport Service during the Korean War.
Maritime Prepositioning Enters the 1990s
By Lieutenant Colonel Paul S. Graham, U.S. Marine Corps
A decade has passed since the creation of the Maritime Prepositioning Ship (MPS) program that combined the rapid airlift of troops with the maritime prepositioning of supplies and equipment. Because of events in the Persian Gulf, maritime prepositioning has emerged from being a relatively unheralded strategic mobility asset to a highly acclaimed deployment capability.
The Marine Corps’s swift response in moving combat-capable units to defend Saudi Arabia after the invasion of Kuwait on 2 August 1990 presented indisputable evidence that the MPS program is vital to our nation’s maritime military strategy. Commitment of the Maritime Prepositioning Force (MPF) set in motion a complex joint service operation involving a concept never fully implemented before.
The strategic airlift that joined two Marine Expeditionary Brigades (MEBs) with their maritime prepositioned equipment, complemented by the arrival of fixed-wing supporting aircraft that deployed using aerial refueling, was a major achievement.
Capitalizing on the recognition achieved by introducing the first credible fighting force during the early buildup of forces in Operation Desert Shield, the Marine Corps expanded the role for MPS. Selected ships were released after their initial unloading in the Gulf to embark additional equipment for possible contingencies. These ships afforded various commanders the flexibility of a variety of deployment alternatives. Other ships served as sea-based logistics platforms to support anticipated operations in the Persian Gulf.
Such alternatives had been addressed— though not formally validated in the current MPF Operational Handbook 1-5. The crisis in the Gulf, however, accelerated the validation process, broadening the concept of maritime prepositioning and the utility of the MPF.
Desert Shield: The decision to execute Operation Desert Shield on 7 August 1990 initiated the deployment of two Maritime Prepositioning Squadrons, located in the Pacific and Indian Oceans; the squadrons were directed to proceed to
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Southwest Asia to support the anticipated employment of their assigned Marine brigades. On 8 August, the Commander-inChief, Pacific Fleet (CinCPacFlt) as- S|gned Commander Amphibious Group Three as the Commander United States MPF (ComUSMPF) in Southwest Asia.
This in turn started the coordination between the commander and the elements within the MPF organization: the 1st and Tlh Marine Expeditionary Brigades; MPS Squadrons-2 and -3; and the Navy SupPort Element (NSE). The command structure was temporary, since the two Marine brigades were slated to become Part of the I Marine Expeditionary Force Under the overall Commander-in-Chief, Central Command (CentCom).
Operational planning centered on security, not only for the prepositioning ships as they entered the theater of operation, hut security at the port of A1 Jabayl in Saudi Arabia for unloading. This modern facility, with its large staging area and numerous berthing spaces, is an ideal site. Saudi government officials and civilian contractors provided the necessary Port services and logistical support to MPF personnel prior to commencement °f the operation. Advanced elements of the MPF effected liaison with the Saudis to resolve conflicts.
The early stages of the operation were characterized by uncertainty. The strategic importance of the A1 Jabayl port facility—about 90 miles south of Kuwait— and the threat of an Iraqi attack influenced 7th MEB’s decision to give priority to combat rather than support personnel during the initial airlift. This prevented the early establishment of a support organization staffed to manage the receipt and distribution of equipment from the port. As a result, a number of temporary agencies provided the initial support.
The Brigade Service Support Group provided Marines for the arrival and assembly operations group in the interim; it was absorbed back into its parent unit when the expeditionary brigade had been outfitted. The Navy support element and the Saudis provided augmentation.
On the other hand, the excellent port facilities freed some of the NSE personnel for other tasks. The Saudis provided personnel and equipment from the port facility at A1 Jabayl. The Saudi government also used Indian contract longshoremen to compensate for shortages in material handling equipment and drivers.
Although this combined effort provided the necessary force to unload the 7th MEB’s equipment, the absence of an organized method of vehicle and equipment distribution did present problems; some units were issued too many vehicles and too much equipment while some came up short initially. A report embodying first impressions of the evolution emphasized the importance of the arrival and assembly group in MPF operations and recommended that containerized supplies distribution be used in future MPF exercises. In addition, the Brigade Service Support Group was a nucleus staff only, not a fully-staffed unit. This limitation precluded an adequate MPF training program, which added to the difficulties in distribution and accountability of equipment and supplies.
Difficulties in getting the off-load preparation party to the ships before they docked also caused some problems. The off-load party, a temporary task organization of nearly 400 personnel, was to board the ships while under way to prepare the brigade’s vehicles, equipment, and ship’s off-load systems prior to arrival at A1 Jabayl. The party was unable to board the ships of MPS-2 during the transit. As a partial solution, the civilian maintenance teams on board each ship did as much as they could to get the gear ready. This improved readiness, but the
By all accounts, the Maritime Prepositioning Ship squadrons (here unloading in Saudi Arabia) performed as advertised during Desert Shield. We were fortunate to have a port like Al Jabayl.
teams were unable to complete all the tasks, and this delayed unloading until debarkation teams located at Al Jabayl could finish the job after the ships docked. This confirmed the critical requirement to position the off-load preparation party on board the ships at least 96 hours prior to commencement of unloading.
Initial arrangements with the Saudi government provided JP-5 jet fuel from local refinery stores. The refinery was considered an early target in the event of hostilities, however, and an alternate source was necessary. On 21 August, the decision was made to establish a tactical aviation fuel dispensing system using JP-5 stored on the ships. Plans called for the NSE to transfer approximately 600,000 gallons of JP-5—of the 1.4 million gallons on board a single ship—to an established bulk fuel system ashore. Normally the fuel would be transferred using the organic amphibious assault bulk fuel system on each ship in the squadron. The system consists of a 5,000-foot long, 6-inch-diameter hose that can transfer fuel at a rate of 700 gallons per minute.
The shallow Gulf beach-gradient prevented the ship from approaching closer than 18,000 feet from the shore. Consequently, a detachment from the Amphibious Construction Battalion, assisted by Marines, joined multiple systems and installed two intermediate pumping stations to maintain pressure over the long distance. The fuel supply was ready on 24 August and the next day the 7th Marine Expeditionary Brigade was established ashore as the first credible fighting force in Saudi Arabia.
As the 7th Brigade was unloading, preparations were under way for the offload of MPS-3, carrying the 1st Brigade’s equipment, at Al Jabayl. This proved less difficult as the successful off-load of MPS-2 had paved the way. Port facilities were adapting to the demands of the debarkation operation, combat service support personnel and equipment were now available, the off-load preparation party was able to board the ships prior to their arrival in the Gulf, and the threat of attack was no longer imminent.
Unloading commenced on 27 August under improved off-load conditions at the port—equipment preparation time was reduced from from 17 to 4 hours—and the distribution system was better organized. The 1st Brigade was established ashore by 2 September and became part of the I Marine Expeditionary Force.
ComUSMPF was dissolved on 12 September. By then, selected MPS squadron vessels had been directed to remain in the theater of operations, providing secure sea-based logistics platforms for future operations. The remaining ships, once released by ComUSMPF, were either returned to the Military Sealift Command’s (MSC) common-user sealift pool or designated for contingency Marine air ground task force deployment.
Crisis action modules'. The Commandant of the Marine Corps in late 1989 had directed the Commanding General, Fleet Marine Force, Pacific to develop ways to shorten deployment times for various task forces and various MPS squadron configurations. Proposals to modify the existing MPF concept were refined as events in Southwest Asia realigned our maritime assets. This new direction focused on flexible force modules to support the deployment of Marine air ground task forces for a wide range of stability operations.
Such operations are conducted to assist friendly or allied governments in maintaining internal stability and public welfare. The use of force, while always available for self-defense, is not contemplated. Air ground task forces assigned to stability operations might be directed to execute any of several types of operations:
- Presence—Joint or combined exercises and shows of force
- Humanitarian assistance—Response to natural disasters, as a product of deliberate bilateral agreement, and as civic [1][2] action projects within combined exercises
- Mobile training teams—Provide hosts with a self-training capability
- Peacekeeping—Operate in a potentially hostile situation as part of a joint or combined force with orders to contain any further outbreak of violence
- Security—Protect U.S. lives and property; protect a friendly government’s integrity; preserve treaty rights.
- Counterinsurgency—Provide support in improving the local environment and protecting resources from insurgents
- Countemarcotics—Provide military skills training and operational planning assistance to interagency task forces, and prepare for more active missions as directed.
The focus on stability operations was reflected by FMFPac in a force closure study, published in February 1990, which shaped the MPF concept into a mixture of force modules to support existing operational plans. The result was the creation of crisis action modules that contained illustrative scenarios to facilitate planning. These reflected strategic lift requirements, sustainment criteria, and deployment options ranging in force composition from a contingency air ground task force to a Marine Expeditionary Force.
This approach called for MPS squadrons to deploy partially, the number of ships to be dictated by the level and type of commitment. Selection of the MPF as the deployment option, compared with those involving amphibious shipping or airlift, reflected the reduction in the strategic airlift sortie requirement and offered extended sustainment above other deployment alternatives. This approach requires that some specific issues be 2(1- dressed, namely:
- Equipment selection to support various stability operations
- Sustainability levels of materials and consumables
- Off-load selection of ammunition by type
- Special equipment augmentation (105mm. howitzers, or unmanned air vehi' cles, for example)
- Priority off-load of equipment-suppl>eS for those mobile loaded vehicles and containers required to provide an initial operational capability
- Reorganization of arrival and assembly operations groups and Navy support elements to support a partial off-load.
The goal has been partially achieved: a single-ship crisis action module has been developed to support the deployment of a contingency Marine air ground task force in the Pacific.
The success of the 1st and 7th Brigades’ deployment during Operation Desert Shield, and the subsequent introduction of a single ship module, has demonstrated the importance and the versatility of the MPS program. Today, maritime prepositioning can no longer be considered a theoretical concept represented only by data compiled from a list of orchestrated exercises. It is now an established deployment option proved in the most serious international crisis our military has faced in nearly three decades-
Colonel Graham is the assistant director, staff planning school, Landing Force Training Command, Pacific, at the Naval Amphibious Base, Coronado, California.
Undeceivable Versus the Undetectable
By Second Lieutenant Christopher M. Shank, U.S. Air Force
ft would be the match of the decade. Aegis against stealth in mock battle could identify weaknesses in each and improve both technologies.
An intriguing challenge was raised on The New York Times editorial Page. Stanley Weiss, founder and president of the Business Executives for National Security, proposed an interservice scrimmage between the Air force and Navy in order to test the contradictory claims of the Air Force’s “undetectable” stealth aircraft and the Navy’s “undeceivable” Aegis system.1
Both stealth technology and the Aegis system are currently undergoing tests in their latest versions, the Arleigh Burke (DDG-51)-class Aegis destroyer and the B-2 Stealth bomber. Both systems should prove the validity of their services’ contradictory claims and justify their expense. The latest Aegis destroyer is more agile with less firepower and modified sensors, while the B-2 is appropriate for strategic bombing missions. In response to Stanley Weiss’s challenge. I will compare the tactics and technology of the already operational versions, the Ticonderoga (CG-47)-class Aegis guided-missile cruiser and the F-l 17A Nighthawk/ Stealth fighter, pitting the Aegis system’s antiair warfare (AAW) selfdefense capabilities against the Stealth aircraft’s offensive penetrability.
In this scenario, the Aegis cruiser will deploy independently of a battle group or surface action group in open water, and both adversaries will be on guard against each other in order to eliminate the element of surprise. The Nighthawk is, needless to say, the aggressor in this situation because of its mobility, but it should be noted that the Aegis cruiser in a battle group commonly directs the air assets to defend against such attacks. The Night- hawk is unaccustomed to antiship offense, as its primary mission is as a low-altitude penetrator.
The Aegis guided-missile cruiser defense capabilities stress flexibility and rapid response to counter a wide array of threats from all dimensions— antisubmarine, antisurface, and antiair warfare—while operating at sea. The heart of the Aegis weapons system is the computer-controlled SPY-1 phased- array radar; this organ of the system supplies information to the UYK.-7 computer brains in the combat information center (C1C). The SPY’s four octagonal fixed arrays send out electromagnetic beams in all directions simultaneously as opposed to conventional radars that only pick up targets during each 360° rotation. Thus, the
radar operator maintains a “full” picture when searching and tracking hundreds of air targets. The SPY radar can survey air traffic at extended ranges.2 Its sensitivity is renowned, but often claims do not necessarily match performance when analyzing sensors. Radars are limited in their searches by the enemy aircraft’s distance and altitude. Since the F-117A will fly almost level with the seatop, the SPY radar does not have a favorable aspect angle in detecting it. The “undeceivable” argument begins when the Aegis radar must differentiate the F-117A radar signature from wavetops, clouds, and birds. As the Nighthawk draws closer within range to fire antiship missiles, it touches on the crux of these tests between stealth and the Aegis SPY radar.
The F-117A is not invisible to radar, but its radar cross section (RCS) is believed to be between one square centimeter to one millimeter because of its unique shape and radar-absorbent/ deflecting materials.3 The plane’s vertical surface, made of aluminum and composite materials, angles outward to reflect and diffuse enemy radar. But those who claim to have tactics that render stealth aircraft detectable have criticized this technology. For example, an AWACS aircraft working in conjunction with the Aegis cruiser would be more likely to detect reflected radar signals. The Navy does not wholly discount the defensive need for stealth technology. The new line of Arleigh Burke Aegis destroyers, for instance, have undergone major design changes to reduce RCS, the most notable being that none of the outer structure, not even the jackstaff, forms 90° angles.
Another method of detection is infrared (IR) signature. The F-117A will simply locate the Aegis warship though its downward-looking IR camera, which the Aegis warship has no means to either counter or perceive. The heat from the gas turbines that propel the ship will stand out like a beacon against the cold ocean background. Infrared detection of the F-117A’s engines is not as easy, however, since heat emission is muffled by wide, thin exhaust outlets and gridded engine inlet. In order to maintain its stealth character in the IR spectrum, the F-1I7A sacrifices sonic and supersonic speeds common among other tactical aircraft. This limitation leaves it open to attack from the air assets the Aegis controls and leaves it unable to maneuver against high-speed missiles should enemy aircraft and missiles find it. The
Nighthawk need only fear IR detection from other planes protecting the Aegis cruiser, since the Aegis sensor suite unfortunately does not include infrared detection.
This battle between plane and ship not only depends on detection and evasion, but on the armaments that each platform has available. The F-117A contains a fully internal carriage to maintain its stealth properties. The Air Force has not revealed the variety of armament that the F-117A can deliver. For the sake of this exercise, however, it will use two operational antiship missiles—the AGM-84A Harpoon or AGM-65G Maverick—with the assumption that the internal carriage can be modified.
The Harpoon is a sea-skimming cruise missile with active radar terminal homing and a range of more than 57 miles, while the short-range, launch- and-leave Maverick missile employs an imaging infrared seeker. This seeker forces the Aegis weapon system to rely only on the SPY radar tracking the Maverick’s RCS. Both missiles are highly accurate, but the Aegis system has several means at its disposal to counter incoming missiles. The F-117A may also deliver highly precise bombs, but using bombs would draw the Nighthawk dangerously close to the Aegis ship.4
Using the SPY radar and the ship’s Mk-99 fire control system, the Aegis ship guides its rapid-reaction, vertically launched Standard missiles (SMs) to counter both the aircraft and its antiship missiles.5 For SM-2s to eliminate the F-l 17A, the radar must track the aircraft for the ship’s target-illuminating radar. Glimmers of the stealth fighter’s RCS will not be enough for the Standard missile to lock onto its target. The SM-2s can counter the incoming Harpoon missiles, but the Harpoon’s low altitude makes this difficult.
The F-117A would need to launch the Maverick at such close range against the ship that it would be difficult for the ship to react with SM-2s.
For this reason, the Aegis is equipped with a thin layer of close-in defense.
The Phalanx Close-In Weapon System with its Gatling gun provides a layer for short-range defense against Harpoon and Maverick missiles with its computer-guided target and firing system. When the weapon system is in fully automated mode and firing 4,500 rounds per minute, these antiair defenses could react in time to counter an incoming missile or the F-117A at short range to the Aegis target.
A nonballistic counter to the Maverick threat is hot burning chaff to “throw the scent” of the IR missile bloodhound. Another means to knock out missiles for which the Aegis is well-suited is electronic countermeasures, frying the missile’s guidance with the SLQ-32 Electronic Warfare Suite. The survivability factor also plays into the missile resistance equation. The Aegis cruiser can withstand damage from a strike and continue the fight, a capability fighter aircraft lack.
This exercise demands rapid decision-making in the Aegis CIC. Normally, only the commanding officer can authorize the launch of Standard missiles. To even out the challenges of surprise in these tests, however, the operating doctrine for the Aegis system should be left under computer control in order to guarantee the fastest reaction possible. This demand of the Aegis versus Stealth test would provoke the strongest reaction.
A traditional advantage that warships maintain over land-based planes, such as the F-117A, is their ability to function free of fixed locations near enemy shores, providing both an intimidating physical presence and an as-needed response. Though the Nighthawk’s refueled range reaches as far as the pilot’s ability to fly under the added constraint of high subsonic speed, the Navy can claim victory if either system were called to respond rapidly to a situation. This victory is contingent on continuing the strategy of forwarddeploying ships to the world’s hot spots, such as the Persian Gulf. If constrained funds or national will were to change this full forward defense, then the United States would need long- range aircraft for a timely response. Planes based far from unfriendly shores, however, would never provide the intimidation factor of warships parked offshore. This question of presence is often raised in comparing these systems.
During this period of constricted military spending, service members have bickered against each other’s programs in order to stave the axe from their own pet projects, and the Aegis versus Stealth debate has been vociferous in this respect. The Navy argues that its system provides “more-bang-for-the- buck” when comparing the cost of ship versus plane and do-all flexibility of Aegis warships to the stealth aircraft’s dubious, single-mission capabilities. Air Force zoomies claim “tactical advantage” in penetration, survivability, and nuclear capability.
The cost of building a multimission feigh Burke Aegis guided-missile destroyer is roughly $700 million, and e Ticonderoga class costs more than ' ' billion. A single stealth fighter costs r°ughly $110 million, and the average P°st Per plane for 60 B-2s is $450 mil- j°n- Stealth detractors also un- 'Ploniatically point to the added crash costs” for aircraft. In turn,
^egis detractors underline operational exPenses for these ships.
Being a stealth proponent does not Necessarily require one to be an Aegis etractor; both systems have separate did distinct missions, which overlap in contradictory pro and con claims of radar detectability. The tight budgetary environment, unfortunately, has left the tw° services at odds. The simple anSWer is to test one against the other, even without the armaments mentioned earlier. A test of radar detectability and deceivability is direct. Cooperation between services at this level is the real tumbling block.
The idea of pitting our weapon sys- tettis, such as stealth aircraft and Aegis Suided-missile destroyers/cruisers, against each other is both abhorrent and 'Nhiguing. Perhaps more important than 'be comparison between these two sys- tClT|s is the reluctance for joint compe- btions between services in arenas other than football stadiums. On one hand, one service might face humiliation and interservice ridicule. For stealth proponents, the call for a test between the B-2 and Aegis destroyer came at a sensitive time in negotiating defense budget appropriations and in proving the B-2’s stealth capability in a series of tests that will not be completed until 1993. Also, for Aegis proponents who unveiled the new Arleigh Burke destroyers, this is the time to show the need for a new, smaller Aegis platform. The top item in Department of Defense appropriations for 1991 was the B-2 program, and the new Aegis was third. The Air Force and Navy can endure each other’s criticism, but not that of Congress and the public.
A series of tests such as this would provide valuable insight in how to improve tactics and technology. The variety of outcomes offered in these trials could change antiair and antiship warfare thinking and philosophy. Such tests would provide valuable experience and a chance for military planners to appreciate the sea/air tactics and mediums in which each service operates. Even if either stealth technology or the Aegis system lost in these tests, it could be redesigned, developed, and improved. This makes an even stronger case for conducting a series of mock attacks without armaments, between stealth fighters and Aegis cruisers. If the United States can claim both the world’s finest Navy and Air Force, then either or both services could endure the criticism of losing the un- deceivable versus undetectable debate without jeapordizing national security.
'Stanley Weiss, The New York Times, 3 July 1990, p. A17.
2Combat Fleets of the World 1990/91, (Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press, 1990).
3SPY-1 Phased Array Radar information provided by public literature from the USS Monterey (CG- 61).
4Michael Domheim, “AF F-117A Moves Out of the Black,” Aviation Week & Space Technology, 9 April 1990, p. 36. The facts of these articles are purported by engineers familiar with stealth technology and not information provided by the Air Force or DoD.
5Missile info, provided by Air Force Magazine, May 1990, “Gallery of USAF Weapons.”
6Aegis Weapons System information provided by public literature from the USS Monterey, and Jane’s Defence Weekly.
7Excerpts from Congressional Record.
Lieutenant Shank is a 1990 graduate of the University of Notre Dame, awaiting active duty in Space Operations.
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Your Attention, Please . . .
Entering a classroom at the Yuma (Arizona) Marine Corps Air Station, the female Marine captain encountered a clearly apathetic audience. She was scheduled to provide a full hour’s instruction in Iraqi electronic warfare capabilities to 150 Marine aviators, who showed by their body laneuaae deep skepticism about her ability to teach warfighting skills to an all-male class.
She began by noting that her voice had just been tested to see if it was suitable for some new cockpit recorder messages for Marine aircraft. Unfortunately, she had not been selected to be the new Bitchin Betty. ’ ’ It was only fair to warn the audience, however, that an analysis of her voice pattern revealed that her voice had a tendency to lull to sleep any male homosexual within earshot
[2] he assembled officers shot upright in their chairs; 150 sets of eyes were wide open and locked on her—and stayed that way for the rest of the class.
Colonel W. Hays Parks, U.S. Marine Corps Reserve