Professional Notes

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By Lieutenant Ross Wilhelm, U.S. Navy

An A-6E, laden with 1,000-pound bombs, roars across the desert. The crew, lead for an eight-plane strike, is fighting its way to the target, a heavily defended power plant.

From far ahead, an F-14 crewman from the escort calls “Leakers! Leakers heading north up the valley!”

“Rustler lead, bogey 15 miles north­east bull’s-eye, your four o’clock, hot aspect.” The report from the E-2C air­borne early warning aircraft indicates big trouble. Enemy fighters have eluded the escorts and are headed for the A-6s.

The bombardier/navigator (B/N) looks up from his radar and twists his neck to look for the enemy aircraft behind him. He spots a small aircraft silhouetted against the mountains, coming for them at high speed.

“Hard right, bogey 4 o’clock!” calls the B/N over the intercommunications system (ICS).

The pilot rolls into a hard turn toward the fighter.

“No joy!” calls the pilot over the ICS, straining to locate the bogey.

“Keep your turn in—he's five o’clock long, co-altitude.”

“Tally ho!”

“He’s overshot—looks like he’s going for our wingie!”

Keying the microphone switch, the B/N calls, “Zip, hard right, bogey right five!”

As the two A-6s turn into the threat, the bogey pulls off high and reverses his turn to search for some easier prey. Hav­ing successfully defeated the fighter, the two Intruders turn back to the target. The air is filled with transmissions from sup­porting aircraft reporting decoys and anti­radiation missiles streaking into the target to protect the strike package.

Returning to his radar, the B/N identi­fies the cluster of blips whose pattern identifies them as his target. Simultane­ously, his headset jangles with a warning from the electronic countermeasures equipment that the enemy has launched a surface-to-air missile (SAM). The g’s build as his pilot turns to counter the threat.

“I’ve got the SAM,” the pilot calls.

“Roger. Chaff program’s running.”

As the jet turns to evade the missile, a cloud of aluminum strips blossoms; the SAM streaks past the jet and the crew turns back to the task at hand.

“Got a lock on the target. Master arm’s coming on. Stepping into attack,” calls the B/N as he makes the final set­tings. “Cop looks good. Steering is sta­ble,” reports the pilot, indicating that the target is under the cross hairs of his gun- sight, and the computer is directing the pilot to the target.

“Roger. Good velocity correct. Good vertical-separation. Laser is firing. Got the target on the Flir [forward looking infrared system].”

The B/N makes a few adjustments to improve the bombing solution as the tar­get grows under the Flir cross hairs “Four miles,” reports the pilot. “Steer­ing’s jumping a little.”

“Roger. Handing off to the Flir.”

The Intruder is approaching the target at almost 500 knots; the 12 bombs ripple off and straddle the target.

“Complete light. G’s coming,” the pilot calls, yanking the airplane in all three dimensions as he fights his way off the target and attempts to avoid the anti­aircraft artillery (AAA) fire. Forty-five seconds later, the wingman's bombs det­onate on the target, and he turns to rejoin the lead while the rest of the strike speeds toward their targets.

A scene from Paramount Pictures forthcoming film, “Flight of the In­truder?”¹ Not quite—the scenes are being played out today in the desert sur­rounding Fallon, Nevada, as U.S. Navy carrier air wings practice the skills they will need should they ever have to go over the beach in earnest. The missiles may be just images on an electronic screen and the targets only plywood, but the tension and sweat are real as the ait- crews fight A-4s, F-5s, F-16Ns, and F/A- 18s while attacking targets defended by simulated defenses that mimic most of the threats they are liable to face.

The actual dramas of air wing training are played out on the stage of the Fallon

Tactical Aircrew Combat Training System-Electronic Warfare (TACTS/EW) range, which covers 6,000 square miles of desert. The TACTS system employs 23 receivers, dotted around the desert Boor, which receive inputs from telemetry pods

A-6Es can still carry heavy ordnance loads—up to 28 500-pounders— farther than any other U.S. carrier- based aircraft.

mounted on the aircraft. The pods contain transponders that transmit basic aircraft data—heading, altitude, airspeed, angle- of-attack, weapon release, etc.

Threat simulators on the range emit signals closely resembling those of real- world threats.

The emitters, along with small rockets that trail smoke to simulate SAMs, and machine guns firing along the ground to simulate AAA, create the semblance of combat. Data from the TACTS pods are coupled with firing data from the threat simulators and processed by high-speed computers at the Naval Strike Warfare Center located at Naval Air Station Fal­lon, Nevada. The results are displayed on large 6-foot x 6-foot video screens; ob-

servers and aircrews may view the scene from any angle, stop the action, or rerun selected portions as they review the de­tails of the mission.

The system has few limitations and can track the maneuvers of up to 36 aircraft down to 200 feet above the ground. It can assess the effect of any weapon employed on the range and score kills objectively; fighter pilots cannot claim a kill with a missile shot out of the envelope, and at­tack crews cannot claim they hit the target—when, in fact, they had already been destroyed a SAM. There is no other way to grasp the complex drama of even a small strike without losing the big pic­ture—short of using actual weapons or going to war.

For a typical air wing, the programmed scenario created by the Strike Warfare Center increases in complexity as the air wing fights the Battle of Dixie Valley— the actual location of the war.

The war for the Intruder squadrons begins with a series of unopposed and unescorted low-level missions culminat­ing in the delivery of live ordnance. Fol­lowing unit training, the air wing partici­pates in several minor skirmishes during overland air superiority training. During this phase of training, the Intruders are escorted by F-14s.

Escort techniques are usually not per­fected at this stage; nearing the target, the carefully orchestrated raid degenerates _v into a huge fur ball as aggressors evade the fighters and bounce the inbound strik­ers. The Intruders are not easy pickings; armed with AIM-9 Sidewinder air-to-air missiles in addition to their bombs, they present a formidable threat to an enemy. On this raid, the aggressors have their hands full with the F-14s, and the Intrud­ers kill two unwary F-16s with no losses to the strike group. As tensions mount, the air wing conducts a series of suppres­sion training missions using its full range of assets—E-2C airborne early warning aircraft, EA-6B electronic warfare air­craft, and S-3A tankers—in addition to the strike and air defense aircraft used in earlier raids. The Intruders are pitted against targets in Nevada, California, Idaho, and Utah, testing to the limits the air wing’s endurance, maintenance, and logistics.

After two weeks of raids, the conflict escalates to a full-scale war, pitting the entire carrier battle group against every­thing the Orange Empire of Dixie Valley can muster. The campaign lasts three days. The rules are strict; aircraft killed are lost for the rest of the campaign.

The battle opens at night; an ideal en­vironment for the A-6E’s unique low- altitude penetration capability. The In-

A VA-145 A-6E pulls hard off target after making a low-level attack; jinking is critical to defeating aimed AAA.

traders bomb an airfield, mine critical mountain passes, and destroy surface-to- air missile sites. Initial indications are that half the aircraft at the target airfield are destroyed, critically damaging the Orange air defense. The mining is suc­cessful; forces rushing to repair damaged sites are brought to a standstill when a mobile AAA unit is destroyed by a mine. Surprise is complete; the air wing suffers no losses.

A follow-up raid is flown the next morning. Intruders attack a headquarters building and continue to roll back the Orange air defense network with bombs and AGM-88 high speed antiradiation missiles, which are a recent addition to the A-6E’s ordnance capabilities. The air wing strikes again that night against air­fields, training facilities, , and missile storage and assembly areas. These strikes are successful but fatigue and the enemy defenses are beginning to catch up—in these two raids, the air wing loses five fighters and four Intruders to ground fire and MiGs.

The final strikes launch the next day and pit the Intruders against the most so­phisticated weapons in the world—or what is left of them. The last, and by far the most complex strike, is run at night. Thirty-six aircraft of all types fly against a well-controlled integrated air defense that employs fighters with look-down- shoot-down capability and surface-to-air missiles that can kill aircraft flying on the deck.

Underneath the overcast, it is dark as the Intruders fly through the mountains at 500 feet above ground level en route to their assigned target. High above, the battle rages as Tomcats try to keep the MiGs away from the strikers. In the cockpit, the crew barely hears the radio communications of the fight, so intent are they on the task at hand. At 450 knots the Intruder crew is less than 30 seconds from becoming part of the terrain in front of them. Although the weapons in this exercise are simulated, the terrain is real— and so is the cost of a mistake. The B/N watches the images that dance in front of him on his radar scope—the patterns of light and dark show him the mountains ahead.

“Clearance to 3 miles—looks like a pretty good ridge. We’ll have to climb.”

The pilot, concentrating on the three­dimensional image of the terrain dis­played on a video screen in the center of his instrument panel, can see the ridge building on the computer-generated dis­play of the radar returns.

“Got the ridge . . . climbing,” he says.

“Keep it coming. Okay, radar shad­ows filling in. Looks like we could level here. Clearance to ten,” says the B/N.

Gently, the pilot levels off, careful not to push back into the ridge under him that he sees only as a video cartoon on his screen.

Ahead, the bombardier sees another ridge, that ends slightly to the left of the aircraft—the target lies on the other side. The B/N elects to go around the ridge in order to conceal the aircraft’s approach as long as possible.

“Looks clear to descend. Got a ridge at five. Bring it left 20°—I’ll tell you when to steady up.”

“Descending, left 20. Fifteen miles to the target.”

“Roger. Steady there. We’ll pass the ridge in thirty seconds, then come to steering.”

Their radar warning gear lights up, indicating a lock-on by an enemy inter­ceptor. The pilot climbs and pulls hard into the threat, trying to break the lock, still intent on the terrain. Just as sud­denly, the warning stops.

“Okay, clear to ten,” reports the B/N. “Looks like we’re clear of that ridge. Bring it direct steering.”

The pilot banks gently back to the tar­get, his direction indicated by a video pathway on his screen.

“Right to steering. Ten miles to the target.”

“Roger. Got the target area on the radar. Good offsets. Good solution.” The B/N places his radar cursors squarely on the blips representing the tar­get, a headquarters area, and sets up the system for the attack.

“Master armament switch on. Step­ping into attack. Roiling out the Flir. Good laser. System looks tight.”

Precise targeting information is now available from the laser in the chin- mounted Flir turret. In the target area.

distracted by the high-altitude fight, the defenses are just awakening to the new, low-altitude threat. Ahead of the In­truder, the sky begins to light up with AAA.

“Look at those flares! What a show,” calls the pilot. “Mmph,” replies the B/N, concentrating on the targeting prob­lem. Ghostly red shapes on his Flir dis­play are defining the buildings of the tar­get area. He selects higher magnification and picks out the H-shaped plywood building of the headquarters. “Got it! Steering’s coming left,” the B/N reports as the moves the Flir reticle to the target.

“Damn! Missile lock!”

“Keep it coming. Almost there. Chaff’s coming.”

As the twelve practice bombs ripple off the Intruder, a simulated surface-to-air missile is fired at the airplane. As the paper rocket arcs through the sky, the pilot— free of his target responsibilities— yanks the airplane into a 5g-turn in an attempt to defeat the missile while the aircraft’s chaff dispenser pumps out clouds of aluminum chaff. When the warning stops, he continues to slam the airplane around to avoid the AAA Fire as he slips past the defenses and back into the sanctuary of the mountains where few aircraft can follow. It’s another night in the life of an Intruder. Despite the sophis­tication of the Orange Empire’s air de­fense system, the Intruder’s night-attack capabilities have been demonstrated once again, and all assigned targets have been hit.

It has been valuable training; next stop—the boat. The challenges never end but this air wing is ready for combat.

'Coonts, Stephen, Flight of the Intruder, (Annapolis: United States Naval Institute Press, 1986).

Lieutenant Wilhelm is an A-6E B/N with VA-145 at Naval Air Station Whidbey Island, Washington.

Tactical Submarine Weapons Require Testing

By Captain George L. Graveson, Jr., U.S. Navy (Retired)

Submarine wartime tactics should be based primarily on the characteristics of the weapons employed and secondarily on the platforms firing the weapons. The same applies to submarine strategies, with the qualification that strategies are also responsive to political and psycho­logical considerations.

Such statements might seem self­evident, but many years of peacetime submarine operations and exercises with, for the most part, only simulated weapon-firing, have led submariners to evaluate their tactics on the basis of opti­mum positioning of the submarine at the moment of weapon release. Once an opti­mum firing position has been attained, a hit is then assumed. On the few occasions when an actual weapon is fired by a sub­marine in peacetime exercises, it is rarely directed so as to hit a target, or, if it hits, to cause some destruction. Submariners, therefore, are likely to go to war using tactics unproved by the actual perfor­mance characteristics of their weapons.

This was so in World War II, when the magnetic and contact exploders of U.S. torpedoes failed to function properly, when torpedoes ran deeper than set, and when the battery-driven Mk 18 torpedo ran at speeds other than those advertised.

Because in peacetime exercises a sub­marine’s weapon attack is usually simu­lated, or in rare circumstances involves Weapons that do not hit the target, the assumption that weapons will function as theorized becomes ingrained into tactical thinking. Thus, submariners who are able to gain a correct firing position are con­sidered to have done their job properly.

This has become such a foregone con­clusion—even though submariners have seen virtually no live conflict for many

“It is by no means enough ...” to achieve a good firing position; sub­marine skippers must fire their tor­pedoes to test them.

years—that nuclear submarine design and operational experts have come to term the nuclear attack submarine (SSN) the finest weapon in any navy. But a sub­marine is not a weapon. It is merely the platform for launching the weapon—a part of a weapon system. Further, the experts say that “tactical performance will be the amalgam of the tactical char­acteristics of the submarine and the oper­ational skill of the crew,” ignoring a cru­cial element in tactical performance—the submarine’s weapons.

This is unfortunate, and the result is that much is known about the perfor­mance of the submarines that carry the weapons while there is relatively little knowledge about how the weapons will perform in combat. Also, little seems to be known concerning the probable war­time performance of most submarine weapons of the world’s navies. Far more appears to be known, for example, about the Soviet’s Alfa-class submarine than about the weapons she will employ. Is her most likely antisubmarine warfare weapon a quiet, electric, smart torpedo with good passive homing?

One must assume a country that has introduced at least six new, highly so­phisticated submarine designs in recent years would have a parallel effort of equivalent magnitude dealing with new, complementing weapons—far advanced over the decades-old models reported in

S. KAUFMAN

The torpedo in the tube on this nuclear-powered fleet ballistic-missile submarine is a live “warshot.” Can we trust it to function as adver­tised—or should we test more often?

the press. Is it safe to assume that the Alfas will employ the SS-N-16 (a stand­off, missile-launched ASW torpedo) or an SS-N-21 torpedo-tube launched anti­ship cruise missile? And what are the likely characteristics of such weapons? This should be of importance to those devising wartime submarine strategies.

It appears that the characteristics of the missiles carried by submarines are better known than are those of the torpedoes. It is far easier to observe a missile in flight than a torpedo running underwater. In fact, only by recovering a torpedo can we learn enough to understand an advers­ary’s possible tactics—and develop counters. Without such a fortuitous wind­fall, assumptions are required.

The Soviets, for example, believe in quieting their torpedoes because they be­lieve that surprise is necessary for weapon success in today’s environment of rapidly generated electronic counter­actions against a weapon that has been detected. This is true particularly for tor­pedoes, which are relatively slow as compared to missiles. Torpedoes allow minutes—as opposed to seconds—for deliberate use of countermeasures. The Soviets must also believe that requiring a torpedo speed of 150% of maximum tar­get speed is no more than folklore— when such speed is likely to involve de­tectable noise at a considerable distance, eliminating the element of surprise in tor­pedo attack. This puts the torpedo in the position of trying to catch an alerted tar­get that can then efficiently avoid it.

Whereas security considerations pro­hibit an unclassified discussion of the role of weapons in assessing submarine sea power, the little that is publicly known about submarine weapons should still be described—along with educated guesses to help fill in the many gaps in evidence concerning today’s submarine weapons. To this end, the following summary of the world’s submarine weapons is pro­vided.

ASW Torpedoes: Submarines represent such a threat at sea that their destruction has become a first priority for most of the world’s navies. The primary weapon for destroying submarines—the ASW tor­pedo—should be discussed first. The heavyweight torpedoes are headed by the U.S. Navy’s Mk 48, which is now being superseded by the advanced capability (ADCAP) version—an upgrade of the Mk 48 that U.S. submariners believe is the best ASW torpedo in the world. It is a 55-knot, thermal-powered (Otto fuel, pump jet) wake-making (55% of its ejected gases are insoluble in water), 21- inch torpedo that weighs 3,500 pounds; Its range is about 20 nautical miles (n.m.) at high speed and 23 n.m. at low speed. It carries a 650-pound warhead, is wire- guided and has both active and passive homing. The active homing capability is believed to be more than 2,000 yards while the passive capability is degraded— perhaps nonexistent—at high speed. France has the L5, a silver-zinc battery- powered, quiet, wakeless ASW torpedo that weighs 2,800 pounds and has a 400- pound warhead. The 21-inch diameter L5 has a range of 8,000 yards and travels at 35 knots. It is wire-guided and has pas­sive and active terminal homing. Its pas­sive homing capability is likely to be good because of its relatively low speed.

The United Kingdom’s Tigerfish heavyweight torpedo is basically de­signed to attack surface ships but its sea­water-battery power, its wakeless propul­sion, 40-knot speed, 15-mile range, and dual wire-guidance with passive and ac­tive terminal homing make it a formida­ble ASW weapon—particularly for shal­low water operations.

The Japanese have a 70-knot, thermal- powered, long-range heavyweight ASW torpedo and Germany has the SUT 2,800-pound electric torpedo capable of 35 knots at a range of 16 n.m. It carries a large warhead and has wire guidance and both passive and active homing. Italy’s

Figure 1 Antisub and antiship torpedoes of the Western World

Whitehead A184 electric torpedo is also wire-guided with passive and active hom­ing.

The Soviets have heavyweight electric torpedoes as well as a thermal-powered, 50-n.m.-range, large warhead torpedo that is a wake-chaser; it appears to be a Poor ASW weapon but a very good anti­ship weapon. In fact, all of the heavy­weight torpedoes listed here are quite capable against surface ships.

The best lightweight ASW torpedoes in use are:

► The French L4—an electrically-

powered, 35-knot, active homing, rela­tively short-range weapons with a 450- pound warhead

•  The Italian   A244—electrically- powered, 30-knot, short-range, active homing weapons; known for its built-in countermeasures
• The West German Seeschlange— electrically-powered, 35-knot, 6-n.m.- range, wire-guided torpedo
• The U.S. Mk 37—electrically- powered, 42-knot, 6-n.m.-range, wire- guided, torpedo with passive and active homing and a 350-pound warhead
• The ubiquitous U.S. Mk 46 (widely used around the world)—a 550-pound torpedo with a 96-pound warhead, capa­ble of 45 knots, range of about 6 n.m. Some Mk 46s are mounted on ASROC missiles to extend their range. The follow-on to the Mk 46 is the Neartip lightweight torpedo which is more effec­tive in shallow waters.

The Soviets have an SS-N-16 missile- launched ASW torpedo similar to the Mk 46 and an SS-N-15 missile-launched nu­clear depth charge of low kilotonnage. Both of these submarine-launched ASW weapons have a range of about 30 miles. Little is known of other Soviet light­weight ASW torpedoes but they undoubt­edly exist in some form.

In general, the warheads of these light­weight weapons, even with shaped charges, appear to have insufficient de­structive power to cause serious pressure- hull damage—particularly against double-hull submarines.

The foregoing does not discount the many advantages of nuclear-powered at­tack submarines, especially when firing short-range weapons. It must be noted that the British submarine HMS Con­queror sank the Argentinian cruiser Gen­eral Belgrano using obsolete, short-range Mk VIII 45-knot, steam torpedoes; the Conqueror was able to close to 700 yards and got two hits, having used her superior speed and maneuverability to gain an ideal firing position. The point is—the Mk VIIIs worked.

Antiship Cruise Missiles: The Har­poon is the most widely-used submarine- launched antiship cruise missile. It is a 1470-pound, sea-skimmer with 70-mile range and a 570-pound warhead with a contact and an active terminal homing capability. It flies at high subsonic speeds and has a low initial trajectory to mini­mize detection after it pierces the ocean's surface. Its warhead can cause major damage to warships but a single weapon is not likely to sink one. At least 12 na­vies have Harpoons. The French MM39 Exocet is well-known for its contribution to the sinking of the British destroyer HMS Sheffield in the Falklands Conflict. The submarine-launched version is simi­lar to the one that hit the Sheffield after launch from an Argentinian Super Eten- dard. It has a 363-pound warhead, 30- mile range, flies at Mach .93, and cruises between 2 and 3 meters above the water. Its propulsion is a two-stage solid propel­lant rocket motor that burns for 105 sec­onds. It homes terminally with active radar. The Exocet that hit the Sheffield failed to explode, but its burning rocket motor caused so much heat and smoke that damage control teams were unable to contain the damage.

The U.S. Tomahawk cruise missile has an antiship version with a 1.000-pound shaped-charge warhead and delayed im­pact fuse. It flies as a sea skimmer a few meters above the ocean and actively homes with a terminal sweep of about 20 miles. It is launched from vertical tubes as well as torpedo tubes.

The Soviet answer to the Tomahawk is the SS-N-21, which is just coming into inventory. It has a range of 1,200 miles and is carried by Akula-class submarines. Far more numerous, however, is the SS- N-12, which has been backfitted in the Echo-class submarines. It is a Mach 2.5 weapon with a range of 350 n.m. and a 2,200-pound warhead designed to defeat aircraft carriers; it has a wide-sweep radar and an infrared homing device. The weapon’s unexpended fuel, which will explode on impact, will cause severe fires from the great heat generated by the

burning fuel. Both weapons are launched from surfaced submarines and can be de­livered in a rapid salvo from the eight deck-mounted launchers. The Oscar- class submarines carry 24 SS-N-19s and an improved version of the SS-N-12.

The Soviet’s 35-mile range SS-N-7 and SS-N-9 antiship cruise missiles are fired from Charlie-class submarines— also from deck-mounted tubes. They are sea skimmers and have 1,100-pound war­heads; unexpended fuel contributes to their effectiveness. Significantly, the an­tiship cruise missiles can be configured with low-kiloton tactical nuclear war­heads.

Antiair Missiles: British submarines carry a battery of six Blowpipes, antiair heat-seeking missiles with a range of about 3 n.m. They are optically guided through a television tracker and are car­ried to defeat ASW aircraft. Soviet Tango-class diesel-powered submarines / have been observed with twin launchers on the bridge; the Soviet Gaskin missile in use has a slightly greater range—about 4 n.m. The effects of these missiles have been well documented.

Many weapons are currently available to submarines throughout the world but their wartime effectiveness is really un­known in many cases. Simply maneuver­ing the firing platform into what is con­strued to be an optimum attack position is not enough—actual weapon testing is required or we may find ourselves, like our submariners in the early days of | World War II, with great boats and unre­liable weapons.

Captain Graveson commanded two diesel submarines while on active duty and served on the staff of Com­mander, Submarines Atlantic. He spent three tours in NATO and was on the nuclear planning group staff at NATO headquarters in Brussels, Belgium. He was commissioned in 1953 via the NROTC program at Yale University.      1

Simpler Might Be Better_________________________

By Captain Jeffrey N. Punches, U.S. Naval Reserve and Captain William S. McMurry, U.S. Naval Reserve

The ARES (Agile Responsive Effec­tive Support) aircraft is a privately funded effort by Scaled Composites, Inc. It is designed to avoid the currently perceived necessity for complexity and the associ­ated high expense of designing and pro­ducing one or more aircraft configura­tions to meet offensive mission requirements such as close air support (CAS), anti-hclicoptcr combat, and other special missions such as drug interdiction or special operations. The aircraft can be sized for a number of mission profiles. The aircraft’s primary mission when this effort began about two years ago was CAS. As the design matured, other mis­sion requirements appeared achievable as the vehicle’s performance became more definitive. Burt Rutan, company presi­dent. believes that the most likely near­term customer might be a foreign nation or the U.S. Customs Service—who might employ the aircraft as a drug inter- dictor. He stresses, however, that the air­craft is not being marketed yet.

The ARES program’s near-term objec­tives are to verify the concept in terms of capability and performance. The com­pany then will develop the concept for customers whose mission requirements can be met with this type of simple, ma­neuverable airframe. The program also will determine the aircraft’s effectiveness in various hostile environments and against varying threats. Rutan’s goal is to test the performance of the ARES in all

Turn Rate, Thrust Limited deg/sec □ G @ Thrust-limited turn rate

flight and weapons regimes and then specify the potential missions that could be performed by the vehicle. Only after extensive testing would he identify real potential customers for its use. Although not specified, the series of events occur­ring in Eastern Europe may have changed the mission emphasis and requirements during the design and construction period for the ARES prototype; they probably have influenced the potential market for the aircraft.

Rutan has achieved worldwide atten­tion with his past designs, which have included the Long-Eze series of experi­mental aircraft and the world-circling Voyager aircraft. His designs have al­ways been innovative and on the leading edge of technology. While it might be tempting to reject the ARES concept out- of-hand, Rutan’s reputation for techno­logical advances and successful innova­tive designs makes the ARES a program to watch. Although his prototype may not meet many military mission requirements in its present configuration, the technol­ogy derived from the vehicle could be used in follow-on aircraft that might be designed using some of the ARES con­cepts. Obviously this fact was not lost on the executives of major aircraft manufac­turers. All had representatives in atten­dance at the roll-out last February.

The ARES concept demonstrates what can be done with current technology to address the problems of overly complex, prohibitively expensive alternatives for a large variety of requirements. The ARES proof-of-concept demonstrator, to be equipped with a General Electric GAU- 12/U cannon, is sized for the anti-heli­copter mission. The design embodies built-in potential for two seats and the carriage of additional armament. The overall impression of those who wit­nessed the rollout is that the prototype aircraft is small. The aircraft is 29 feet in length and has a wing span of 35 feet. It weighs 6,500 pounds dry, 8,700 pounds Wet, and has a thrust of 2,900 pounds.

The aircraft visually resembles a mix of an A-4 and an F-16 in the nose area, although it has canards mounted next to the pilot. The similarity between the ARES and any other aircraft, however, ends just aft of the cockpit. The aircraft has a single intake located on the upper left fuselage above the wing. Despite the asymmetric intake, the aircraft retains centerline thrust. The wing is cranked forward and has no flaps. The vertical stabilizers are mounted on booms that extend aft from the trailing edge of the wing. The cockpit is designed to permit maximum visibility in all quadrants. The canopy looks much like an F-16 canopy and has few visual obstructions. The ARES aircraft appears to have similar visibility.

The aircraft is designed to function almost without hydraulics, although hy­draulics are now used for the landing gear and the speed brake. The 25-mm. gun is driven electrically. All control surfaces are powered by conventional manual cable-pushrod assemblies. Because of ARES’ limited size, there is little space for avionics and weapons carriage. The armament for the anti-helicopter mission would be the GAU-12/U with 220 rounds of ammunition, two AIM-9L Sidewind­ers, and 4 Stinger missiles. Given the size of the aircraft and its relatively low thrust-to-weight ratio, the weight and drag of this ordnance might handicap its performance.

The impression is that the aircraft is envisioned as primarily a gun platform. The ARES prototype is designed to carry the 25-mm. gun, although Rutan stated that with a modest increase in size and weight it could carry a 30-mm. gun. The aircraft is designed to use the recoil of the gun to offset any coupling force placed on the aircraft by the gun blast, according to General Electric. If this concept works, the aircraft should be a simple and

SCALED COMF>OSITES. INC.

The asymmetric engine mounting and gun location distinguish the ARES. The aircraft offers exceptional turn rates.

stable gun platform. The authors believe that this is a very elementary hypothesis, and that total gun stability could be achieved only at certain flight conditions; and could not be achieved throughout the Bight envelope without further design.

The aircraft is capable of a maximum of 400 knots true air speed at a maximum altitude of 35,000 feet. With the baseline engine, the Pratt and Whitney Canada JT15D-5, 2,900 pound-thrust turbofan, the turn performance of the aircraft ap­pears limited. The aircraft is capable of an instantaneous eight-G turn, and of generating 35 degree-per-second turn rates. Such high rates, however, appear to induce considerable airspeed bleed-off because of the rapid flight envelope shrinkage for increasingly high G-load- ing. This fact would seem to limit the ARES applicability to missions requiring good sustained-G performance. The ARES prototype does have impressive turn performance at low altitudes, which

The ARES aircraft has large canards and a bubble canopy; the clean design can accommodate a tandem cockpit.

might be useful when fighting helicop­ters.

With its internal fuel load of 2,200 pounds, it would have a maximum radius of action of 300 miles, Rutan said.

One intriguing aspect of the design and one Rutan uses in virtually all his designs is natural stall resistance. The aircraft is maneuvered in the pitch axis using canards designed to stall prior to the wings. This allows the pilot to use as _v much aft stick as he wishes without risk­ing stalling the aircraft, a definite asset for anti-helicopter maneuvering because it allows the pilot to devote his total at­tention to the world outside the cockpit. SCI’s test pilot said that the aircraft is simple to fly and very comfortable in all llight regimes tested to date.

True to its claim, the aircraft appears to be quite simple. Control cables for the manual controls are visible, and the cock­pit is conventional. Skin surface disconti­nuities that might be attributed to rivets, fasteners, or composite skin lay-ups are faired and painted over. Even though fuel, fully loaded, comprises more than 33% of the takeoff gross weight, tanks are limited to wet wings. This allows room for a large 92-inch-long payload compartment aft of the cockpit. The 25­mm. gun, currently baselined as the Gen­eral Electric GAU-12/U five-barrel Gat­ling gun, is mounted in a faired recess on the lower forward right-hand side of the fuselage; the fairing can be removed, al­lowing access to the gun. The entire gun can be removed and replaced with an­other fairing that covers the gun recess area completely.

The airframe is asymmetrical; the most startling manifestation of this principle is

SCALED COMPOSITES, INC.

the engine intake. It was designed to meet two requirements: First, the aircraft is intended for rough-field landings. This required the elevation of the intake to preclude foreign object damage during landing and takeoff roll; second, the de­sign team was concerned about the poten­tial for engine ingestion of gun exhaust and muzzle gases during gun firing. They realized that these gases, venting aft from the right side, have the potential to inter­fere with engine intake air and degrade engine performance, perhaps inducing compressor stalls. The solution is to mount the engine inlet on the upper left fuselage. The centerline of the intake and engine shaft are canted 8° to the left of the aircraft centerline. The lower inlet lip rests approximately half the distance of the wing span from the leading edge aft, and is joined to the wing and the fuselage at the intersection of the wing root and the left fuselage (payload compartment) wall. Aft of the engine turbine, an “S”- duct is installed so that exhaust gases generate centerline thrust, even though the engine horizontal axis is oriented off centerline. Looking back at the aircraft from an elevated forward position can cause an optical illusion.

Since the gun is mounted on the lower right fuselage, there is justifiable concern about discharging rounds generating an aircraft moment that, when combined with the drag signature produced by the unique intake mounting, could lead to degradation of weapon-delivery accuracy or even airframe instability during high- performance flight conditions. The solu­tion to this potential problem is to offset the forward fuselage mounting three inches to the left of the aircraft’s center­line. Figure 1 shows this asymmetric fu­selage mounting quite clearly. Rutan did not mention any wind tunnel testing, so it is assumed that the placement of the en­gine, fuselage, and gun was optimized by analytical predictions.

The control system is a simple, straight-forward stick-rudder pedal- cable-bellcrank to surface configuration. No flaps are installed. Hydraulic systems are used only for landing gear and speed brake operation. The aircraft appeared to be very responsive during the demonstra­tion flight even though the gear was ex­tended. No asymmetrical risks to stability have developed to date.

The aircraft is constructed almost com­pletely of composites. Portions of the wing and canard leading edge were formed using composite materials and repairs to the aircraft’s composite struc­ture can be performed in the field without the use of an autoclave, Rutan said. The aircraft is 35% carbon fiber; the remain­der is fiberglass, epoxy, and a small amount of Kevlar. Contributing to the aircraft’s high fuel-to-gross-weight ratio is the use of the aircraft’s skin as the ac­tual support structure. The wings and strake tanks are wet; the resultant slosh loading and fuel feed paths during hard maneuvering were not addressed during the rollout event.

The mounting of a relatively large 270- pound gun on the small ARES airframe poses some design challenges. Coupling effects are in part addressed by the air­frame, as discussed earlier. The design permits a net couple-cancellation effect around the gun’s center-of-gravity; the muzzle-discharge energy is offset by breach-gas interaction. The gun was not mounted on the demonstration aircraft, so it was difficult to assess the adequacy of the gun-to-fuselage interface. This left some open questions about structural adequacy and aerodynamic effects of in­duced drag combined with aircraft ma­neuvering during gun discharge. SCI lit­erature did state that “blast pressures from the gun muzzle are reacted locally by thick, composite sandwich structure”; and that “fuselage structural integrity has been proven during actual ground gun fir­ing tests.” In addition, the mounting of the gun on the lower right forward fuse­lage protects the canopy from gun blast loads. With the missions identified for the aircraft, the gun interface and resul­tant performance as a part of the ARES platform, will clearly be the predominant element of any test and evaluation pro­gram.

Aerodynamically, the aircraft has a delta wing, augmented by large strakes. Canards are mounted just aft of the cock­pit but possible aerodynamic interference caused by gun gas interaction with the right canard’s boundary layer is not con­sidered to be a design issue. The canards, wings, and rudders feature aft-pointing, tailored trailing-edge tips. These are used

I

on the horizontal surfaces to enhance vor­tex generation and boundary-layer sepa­ration characteristics of those airfoils. The aft-pointed vertical stabilizer tips are mostly aesthetic. The canards provide for natural stall resistance and recovery. Full and immediate aft-stick deflections will be available to the pilot to enhance ag­gressive maneuvering.

As for overall risks, the placement of the canard on the left side of the fuselage might cause engine intake blanking dur­ing high angle-of-attack maneuvers. The effects of the asymmetrical aspects need to be defined with test data for the de­manding, agile maneuvers required by the aircraft’s intended missions. The complex dynamic inputs from the gun’s size and placement compound these is­sues. For example, if the ARES mission is anti-helicopter warfare, the aircraft must be able to fulfill its predicted perfor­mance with full or near full aft-stick in­puts, provide a stable gun tracking solu­tion and firing, then allow for recovery without vectored thrust and without fol­lowing a flight path predictable enough to become a target itself.

The anti-helicopter mission is a de­manding and dangerous one for a fixed- wing aircraft. Fixed-wing pilots who have flown this mission state that usually only one opportunity to kill a helicopter materializes if the helicopter is equipped with air-to-air weapons. The helicopter’s capability to turn at high angular rates— greater than 45° per second—with little or no forward motion, enables lethal fir­ing against fixed-wing aircraft pulling out from an unsuccessful attack. A fixed- wing aircraft, therefore, must be properly armed to kill the helicopter on the first pass. Many Marine Corps pilots believe that the best way to kill a helicopter is with conventional bombs—the spreading fragment pattern will engulf the helicop­ter.

The ARES concept possesses several performance capabilities which could be of great use. First, the aircraft is agile, and capable of the high-G turns and turn rates mentioned earlier. The natural anti­stall characteristics would be an advan­tage since the pilot could maintain visual contact with the helicopter without hav­ing to look inside the cockpit. The ARES is small, so it might be difficult for heli­copter pilots to acquire visually and bring weapons to bear. The combination of Sidewinder and Stinger missiles and a 25-mm. gun could give the ARES a first- pass kill capability. The proper use of missiles and guns in the anti-helicopter mission requires a very stable platform, Plus avionics that help the pilot acquire the helicopter, lock the seekers onto the target, and aim the gun accurately. State- of-the-art avionics for this are not heavy, but if ARES also carries the types of self­protection electronic countermeasures, chaff and flare dispensers, and other de­fensive equipment today’s low altitude combat environment demand, the net weight and volume requirements could critically impact present ARES space al­location or performance.

The ARES prototype has insufficient hard points on the wings. For that Marine pilot who prefers bombs, the wing-to- ground distance doesn’t appear to be suit­able for a load-out effective enough to blow helicopters out of the air. Bombs on an ARES would not be much help to its performance, either. Ground fire would pose a threat.

Close air support on today’s battlefield is a dangerous mission requiring sophisti­cated avionics, high aerodynamic perfor­mance, and versatile weapons-carriage capability. Today’s CAS mission requires an aircraft that can ingress to the target at high speeds, acquire its target electroni­cally, execute an attack in a pop-up mode with a variety of weapons, be able to de­fend against local air threats, and then exit the target area at high speeds. CAS combat pilots will use night vision de­vices, target locator systems, and bea­cons to locate friendly troop positions. The ARES concept needs improvement for this, namely: more avionics space; higher thrust-to-weight ratio allowing quick acceleration and shoulder-held SAM avoidance; higher “top end” speeds; and more ordnance-carriage ca­pability. The ARES concept does have some capabilities in its favor, however. Long legs and endurance permit it to remain on station for long periods, await­ing a CAS assignment. Second, the air­craft is small and very agile. This en­hances survivability in high-threat environments. Third, the aircraft is cheap compared to the proposed A-16 CAS air­craft and there may be a place for the cheap “throw-away” aircraft.

The third mission is Forward Air Con­trol (FAC). The FAC mission requires an aircraft with excellent visibility, high maneuverability, good communications, and a modest ordnance carriage payload. There are really two types of FAC mis­sions: the FAC mission performed in a relatively low-threat environment, such as a Third-World scenario; and the FAC mission flown in high-threat environ­ments. The ARES concept would be an excellent aircraft for the low-threat envi­ronment and could be flown in higher threat environments than can existing FAC aircraft. The cost of the ARES air­craft may be higher than some of the al­ternatives for the low-threat scenario. In the high-threat environment, the question regarding the ARES is again its surviv­ability because of low airspeed and low thrust-to-weight ratio.

Reconnaissance is another possible mission. Most photographic reconnais­sance flight profiles require a high-speed, low-altitude penetration of defenses, and a dense avionics and sensor suite. ARES does not appear to have the necessary volume in the present configuration.

Border patrol and drug interdiction missions are possible. The ARES could certainly fit very well into the arsenal of the Drug Enforcement Agency. It has the endurance and airspeed to intercept and chase down low fliers used for drug transport. The aircraft has excellent visi­bility and could employ a variety of vis­ual sensors and avionics. The DEA cur­rently uses many aircraft with air intercept radars and sensors designed to allow for intercept and interdiction of drug aircraft and ships. We believe that ARES could easily be equipped with a simple radar intercept capability and sen­sors, and yet maintain necessary perfor­mance specifications. It might be a good follow-on aircraft to the business jets cur­rently in use. Equipping the aircraft with a gun might be an effective defense against aggressive drug importers, but the DEA will need some convincing to adopt that mode of operations.

Weapons training is another potential use for the aircraft. The Navy intends to use the T-45 aircraft for undergraduate pilot weapons training. A simpler, less expensive alternative to the T-45 might be attractive. Should the Air Force resur­rect its “Lead-In” program as an aug­ment to the planned Specialized Under­graduate Pilot Training Program, Rutan’s ARES might be an inexpensive and easily maintained vehicle that could fill that requirement. It might also interest a num­ber of enterprises that are considering ab initio undergraduate pilot training for for­eign nationals.

The last mission is special operations. Special operations tend to be avionics­intensive missions and ARES has ord­nance and avionics volume limits for this requirement.

Third World air forces, however, might find uses for the aircraft. They do not require high performance aircraft to counter their relatively low threats. The ARES concept of an aircraft designed to one aerodynamic baseline that can be scaled up, would prove useful to replace the aging jet and propeller aircraft cur­rently being used. If the final production aircraft can be priced within their bud­gets, these air forces could be a large market.

The ARES concept of designing a flex­ible aircraft family around a reasonably priced, largely composite aircraft is inter­esting. The ARES aircraft as configured for the roll-out is probably not of much interest for the U.S. military, because it does not have the performance, avionics, and ordnance capability needed to com­plete missions and survive in most U.S. military environments. A large aircraft would be of more utility but its low accel­eration and dash speeds would continue to handicap it. The aircraft appears to offer the Drug Enforcement Agency a viable alternative to its business-jet inter­ceptor fleet. Long endurance combined with its reasonably high-speed dash could augment the DEA’s aircraft assets. Al­though Rutan declined to comment on costs, we believe that the aircraft could be produced at a reasonable price and could also represent a potential savings in operations and maintenance. Sounds like more bang for the buck.

Captain Punches is the president of Victory Inte­grated Systems, Inc., a training analysis and weapons system engineering company in Carlsbad, California. He is a naval aviator and is currently commanding officer of NAS 0194. He is a combat veteran and was a fighter pilot for most of his career.

Captain McMurry is an engineering manager at Gen­eral Dynamics Space Systems Division in San Diego. California. He is a naval aviator and is the command­ing officer of the Naval Air Systems Command unit at NAS North Island. California.

Coast Guard Rescue Swimmers: Filling the Void

By Lieutenant Commander Tom Beard, U.S. Coast Guard (Retired)

When the Marine Electric sank during a storm off the mid-Atlantic coast in 1983, a Coast Guard rescue helicopter from Elizabeth City, North Carolina ar­rived in time to assist the freighter's crew, struggling in the water. Because of

Aviation survivalmen must tackle the additional role of rescue swimmer now that the Coast Guard has no amphibious helicopters.

the heavy sea condition, however, the boat-hulled helicopter was unable to land on the surface and pull in survivors. Nei­ther could the sailors lift themselves into the rescue basket that was lowered from the helicopter. The Coast Guard crew could only watch helplessly as many in the ship’s company perished. It was too late for most of the seamen when the Navy later arrived with rescue swimmers.

For almost 70 years, the Coast Guard has flown aircraft capable of landing on water, but soon, for the first time in its flying history, the Coast Guard will be unable to land aircraft on the water during rescue operations. The non-amphibious helicopter, HH-65 Dolphin, is replacing the aging HH-52A Sea Guard amphibian helicopters (in service since 1963). The Coast Guard also plans to replace its HH-3 Pelican amphibian (in service since 1969) with the new conventional-bodied HH-60 sometime around July 1991.

Petty officer A. J. Ratliff is an aviation survivalman first class (ASM1). The new job of “rescue swimmer” was assigned to his rate without warning 25 February 1985. He had to learn to swim and condi­tion his body to meet the rigors of his new rate. He also had to qualify as an emer­gency medical technician (EMT).

Years ago, personnel in the ASM rate were parachute riggers and qualified par­achutists. But today, they do not have to make the qualifying jumps of earlier gen­erations. They now go the short distance from the aircraft to the water, or boat, or land by free fall or cable.

When the additional duty of rescue swimmer was assigned, most ASMs had to train to stay in their rating. Most elected to stay. The retention rate is al­most 100%. About 100 more personnel have been added, to meet the duty-stand­ing schedule. At present, the Coast Guard has 229 rescue swimmers.

Early training, for all grades through first class petty officer, consists of physi­cal conditioning. Preliminary training is held at Elizabeth City, followed by the month-long rescue swimmers school con­ducted by the U.S. Navy at Pensacola, Florida. Final and recurrent training is done at the Coast Guard stations where swimmers are ultimately assigned.

Three times a week, rescue swimmers complete one hour of calisthenics plus swimming or running—not jogging— one mile. In addition, each week they must swim one-half mile in less than 20 minutes—with mask, fins, and snorkel; swim 200 yards on their backs—using legs only; swim 25 yards underwater— four times; and tow a “victim” 100 yards.

Monthly they train with rescue equip­ment, conduct lifesaving drills, deploy from the helicopter, and practice emer­gency medical procedures.

And they still have a full schedule of regular duties. ASMs are a part of the air­craft maintenance crews that keep the helicopters flying. At least once every four days, as well, they stand a 24-hour duty alert, ready to fly away on emer­gency calls.

Since the program began in 1985 at the Coast Guard Air Station, Elizabeth City, North Carolina, 92 lives have been saved and 166 others have been assisted by res­cue swimmers from Coast Guard helicop­ters. No count has been made of medical assistance or aid rendered in saving flooding boats with dewatering pumps. In all, 17 air stations now operate with res­cue swimmers.

Cryptic Coast Guard summaries de­scribe highlights of significant cases. They do not record the hours of fa­tiguing—physical and emotional—time spent in searching for the forever lost. These reports, in terse government lan­guage, also fail to account for time spent helping excitable seamen who have me­chanical or physical problems. Nowhere do they express how a 21-year-old sud­denly matures while trying to resuscitate someone near death.

Finally, the official reports fail to high­light the drama, sacrifice, personal suf­fering, and the emotional impact encoun­tered by Coast Guard helicopter crews struggling in life-saving (and life-threat­ening) episodes that receive little public notice.

All conditions of weather and seas can­not be anticipated or covered in training. For example, a 26-foot fishing boat sink­ing in a December storm off Sitka, Alaska, forced a father and his 6-year-old son into the water. Visibility was poor in blowing snow. Winds were steady 35 knots with gusts to 70. The seas were 25­30 feet.

The "... hoist attempt failed because the father’s (survival) suit [was] filling with water and his son [was] strapped to his chest. After two failed hoist attempts, the rescue swimmer (entering the water) was successful in placing the survivors together in the basket for recovery. Dur­ing the difficult . . . recovery ... the helo encountered heavy wind gusts which caused the rescue swimmer to be dragged through a wave that [knocked off his] mask and snorkel and bruised [his] back.”

As qualified emergency medical tech­nicians, rescue swimmers sometimes exercise more than just swimming abil­

ity. For example one crew member on a 33-foot sailboat off the California coast suffered a blow to the head from the boom. The passenger was seasick and could not sail. The vessel was also dis­abled with a broken rudder. The rescue swimmer could not be lowered to the boat because of the sailboat's rigging, so he entered the water 100 feet away and swam to the boat. He provided medical evaluation via a radio to the flight sur­geon. who decided that a Medevac was too risky. The patient was stabilized on board. The sailboat was towed into port by a Coast Guard utility boat seven and one-half hours later and survivors were taken ashore to a waiting ambulance.

Not all cases involve boats. Once, a young man was trapped 25 feet above the crashing surf, near the base of a high cliff. Rescuers were unable to pull him to the top and helicopters could not reach the victim. Subsequently, a rescue swim­mer entered the 45° water, swam through the surf and assisted the victim down the cliff. Both of them entered the water and swam to a nearby beach and safety.

Rescue swimmers might seem the stars of rescue attempts but they are quick to point out that they arc only a part of a team. The fact that they are the focus of attention is not making celebrities of them. “The little bit of resentment we feel from the hangar [crew] is slowly turning to mutual respect ’cause they re­alize we have a job to do and we have to be highly trained. Yet we have to remem­ber we’re not the only ones out there in that helicopter—they |also] have their job to do. We rely on them to be highly professional. We’re not here to be prima donnas. We’re here to do a job. just like anybody else. It is a job we were thrust into—we don’t do it to be visible; we do it to get the job done.”

Lieutenant Commander Tom Beard, U.S. Coast Guard (Retired) is a former naval aviator with more than 7,000 flight hours in 30 different aircraft. He holds his master rating in the Coast Guard and is also search-and-rcscue qualified.

Time To Take a Flying Jump

By Vice Admiral Robert F. Dunn, U.S. Navy (Retired)

For 67 years the U.S. Navy has oper­ated conventional take-off-and-landing (CTOL) aircraft from aircraft carriers. From Langley to Abraham Lincoln their performance has been near impeccable and, since early in World War II, carriers and the CTOL planes that fly from them

MCDONNELL DOUGLAS

have been essential to virtually every U.S. and many allied naval efforts. Pro­cedures for arming, launching, recover­ing, and maintaining ever more sophisti­cated aircraft from larger and ever more capable aircraft carriers have been honed to a fine art. Yet, it now appears that the

pinnacle of such art may have been reached.

The requirement to perform in increas­ingly complex combat environments has led to the development of ever larger air­craft which, in turn, has led to require­ments for longer (or more powerful) cata­pults and landing run outs. Both requirements mean larger ships. Yet, car­riers cannot be made larger without also making them deeper and wider, which then brings ship handling, navigation, dry docking, and cost problems. It is a paradox with no immediately apparent resolution, save one: powered lift.

Powered lift, vectored thrust to provide vertical/short take-off and landing (VSTOL) capabilities for high-speed and high-performance aircraft has been used for more than twenty years now. So far, such powered-lift aircraft have been infe­rior to their CTOL contemporaries in range, endurance, and load-carrying prowess. That gap is narrowing quickly, however. With new engines and modern flight controls and avionics, it will not

A 1970s artist envisioned VSTOL aircraft on the Navy’s as-yet- unnamed CVN-76, which may be in service bv 2000. The carrier might make that date—but what about the aircraft?