Department of the Navy “blue” dollars that fund some Marine Corps programs have a distressing tendency to suffer from a blue- green split that too often resembles a horse-and-rabbit stew: one horse and one rabbit. It’s time for a change.
Unique in the U.S. defense structure, the Department of Navy is responsible for two separate Services. For more than 200 years, this singular organization has provided the United States both with ships and sailors to control the sea and with soldiers who specialize in coming from the sea to shape events ashore. Together, we comprise the Navy-Marine Corps team. This remarkable relationship has enabled the Department of the Navy to provide to our maritime nation the most useful combination of military instruments in our national arsenal for day-to-day influence, deterrence, crisis response, and—ultimately—warfighting. This Departmental team has evolved over time by combining sea-land-air capabilities with doctrine, training, and equipment in order to meet a broad range of operational requirements.
Over the past few years, the Navy and Marine Corps, as much as any time in our history, have been developing a common vision. Previously, during the long years of the Cold War, the Navy properly focused on nuclear deterrence and sea control, with an eye to keeping the vital sea-lanes to Europe open in a global war. Amphibious capabilities were sustained materially, but received a lower priority. On the other hand, Marines focused on general- purpose capabilities in the littorals of the world.
Times have changed. The capabilities needed during the Cold War—arguably, the capabilities that won the Cold War, including a blue-water Navy built and oriented to win a large-scale clash at sea with the Soviets—now have lesser utility than capabilities oriented toward the land.
Our strategy—and thus, our requirements—have changed. Hand-in-hand with this shift from blue water to green water is the growing importance of expeditionary forces: Marines, amphibious ships, and naval expeditionary forces—the general-purpose naval forces designed to operate in the world’s littorals.
Recognizing this shift required a remarkable conceptual reexamination by the Navy. The change was less dramatic for Marines; the end of the Cold War had marked a return to national security requirements that highlighted the traditional strengths of the Corps. The 1992 Navy- Marine Corps White Paper “. . . From the Sea” publicly announced this change. We refined our vision in 1994 with “Forward . . . from the Sea.” This Department of the Navy strategic vision should—if followed through— focus thinking and resources on expeditionary warfare as never before.
Perhaps even more significant was the “team” approach in which this new strategy was drafted and coordinated. Unlike other times in our Departmental history, “. . . From the Sea, ” and “Forward . . . from the Sea,” resulted from thinking and conceptual efforts of both the Navy and Marine Corps. The two Service staffs developed the drafts together, two Chiefs of Naval Operations and I polished them, and two of our Secretaries of the Navy joined with us in promulgating the strategies.
Another public symbol of common purpose was the initial development in 1992 of an integrated Department of the Navy Posture Statement, presented jointly to Congress by the Secretary, the Chief of Naval Operations, and the Commandant of the Marine Corps. This effort has become the norm and has been completed each successive year with greater cooperation and confidence. The creation of a Naval Doctrine Command (NDC) was recognition of the fact that there was need for a formalized, overarching, integrated naval force doctrine development process. NDC will shape the doctrine and concepts for the employment of naval expeditionary forces, the centerpiece for Navy and Marine Corps warfighting in the future. And, finally, over the past four years, the Navy-Marine Corps team has taken a number of strides in developing a closer working relationship at the top. I was privileged to serve during that period with two remarkable CNOs, some truly team-oriented senior Navy leaders, and three dedicated Secretaries. As it has been for 38 years, it was my privilege to call myself a naval officer; a member of a truly great national security team.
The Navy and Marine Corps are, perhaps, at a high point in the “team” relationship so often ascribed to us, and in the potential for being even more cohesive in the future. That said, there remain two significant problems that must be reconciled: determining “team” requirements; and equitably allocating and managing “team” resources to meet those requirements.
The critical issue of requirements determination has been the source of a great deal of pain between Sailors and Marines over the years. It has affected relationships and teamwork, and created cleavages both at the operating level and at the highest management levels of the Department of the Navy. The major cause of friction in this issue is that Marines often are not the final uniformed arbiters in Department in deciding their warfighting requirements.
An operational example of this cleavage can be drawn from as long ago as the team’s execution of the bloodiest battle in Marine Corps history, at Tarawa, a half century ago. Although personal history accounts are cloudy, the Marine major general Landing Force Commander’s repeatedly stated operational requirement for more Marine amphibious tractors that could negotiate the reef at Tarawa was repeatedly disapproved by his Navy counterpart until a senior Marine commander stated stormily to the Fleet Commander, “No amtracs, no operation!” Additional vehicles were approved, but still in fewer numbers than the Landing Force Commander required.
The scope of this decision was redeemed by the courage of Marines wading ashore from 800 yards out in the lagoon where the conventional landing craft ground to a halt on the reef. The cardinal flaw, however, was that Navy officers, however proficient in their own specialties—but not experienced in making landing force judgments—were empowered to make decisions on matters of Marine Corps expertise, overruling the judgment of Marines.
During my tenure as Commandant, 50 years after the battle, as Marines pursued the replacement of their present, aging successor to the amtracs at Tarawa, senior Navy voices continued to argue against this Marine Corps top ground mobility warfighting priority in the highest decision-making echelons of DoD.
Nowhere, however, is the cleavage between the two naval services wider than in the determination of aviation requirements. The tortuous history of the V-22 Osprey aircraft provides a bellwether example. This clear-cut and forward-thinking operational requirement of Marines has been jeopardized more than once, by some who are not best experienced to make judgments about Marine concepts and requirements. Although the Osprey program was advocated strongly by the Marine Corps, the final advice given to a former Secretary of Defense considering whether or not the program should go forward was a recommendation given by a Navy officer, not a Marine. The Osprey was terminated. Fortunately, this vital program was sustained by the will of Congress, but the statement from a senior admiral that, “For the narrow mission of ferrying Marines from ship to shore, the Osprey is not needed,” was hauntingly reminiscent of the Navy insistence on boats over amphibious tractors at Tarawa. Six years later, in one of the last decision meetings before the V-22 tilt-rotor aircraft was officially approved, another senior Navy officer, faced with the argument that the V-22 was stated to be the Corps’ top aviation priority by four consecutive Commandants, rendered in open forum the opinion that “four Commandants could be wrong.” This was judgment offered by an officer who never had served closely with Marines or in the amphibious forces.
The foregoing are harsh, but accurate revelations of past events, but it is time to move on. More specifically, if “Forward ... from the Sea” is to become a reality, we must move beyond such one-way, authoritative power on the part of only one element of the team. The current Departmental system continues to constrain the Marine Corps’ ability to determine requirements, and grants implied, if not actual, veto power to Navy officers who most often do not have the experience—and should not have the authority—to make such judgments or offer such counter-persuasions. The determination of equipment and other warfighting requirements needed by Marines must be made by the Marines, and supported—not vetoed—by the Navy if the “team” is to succeed and flourish.
To do this moves us to the second critical problem: the alteration of a generally held perception that Department of the Navy resources are fundamentally “blue,” and that the costs of the Marine Corps are borne at the expense of the Navy. It is on this point—often extended to debates at the DoD level—that the Navy and Marine Corps clash, with reverberations that impact upon the philosophical cohesion of the entire team.
Over our mutual history, the Navy has, in effect, controlled the Department of the Navy. The Secretary’s staff, his advisers, and the mechanisms used to analyze and allocate resources have been Navy. Marines have been subordinate to Navy commands, and Navy officers. Although the Goldwater-Nichols Act provided a basis for change at the operating force level, and implicitly, at administrative levels as well, to a practical degree, the situation remains unchanged in Departmental echelons today. Marine resource allocation decisions are still viewed as costs incurred by the Navy—not the Department—to support the Marine Corps. “The Marines cost the Navy too much!” is a familiar utterance on the third deck of the E-Ring in the Pentagon.
The amount of money spent on Sailors and Marines in the Department has many gray areas. For example, about 9,000 Sailors are assigned to jobs that directly support Marines; but about 7,800 Marines are similarly assigned to the Navy. Marines are treated at naval medical facilities, and train at naval bases and schools. The Naval Aviation Systems Command manages the development and procurement of aviation weapons and aircraft for both of the Naval services—the Navy and the Marine Corps—and the Deputy Commander and 60 other officers in that command are Marines. Some suggest that amphibious ships should be chargeable to the Corps because Marines serve as the main batteries of these ships. Whatever, the “chargeable” nature of such expenses, the fact is that dollars are appropriated to the Department of the Navy to support both Sailors and Marines. If there were no Marines, there would be no dollars appropriated to the Department to support them. Costs might be less, but so would resources, and there would be fewer ships and fewer Sailors in the Navy, and an irreplaceable loss of our maritime nation’s most versatile general- purpose capability. The key point is that general support resources allocated to, and within, the Department are just that: Departmental—and they support both services.
Whatever the accuracy of the apportioned cost between the two services of the Department, the reality is that Marines exercise control over only about two-thirds of the dollars allocated or perceived to be allocated to support them. These are called “green dollars,” and pay generally for the cost of the Marines themselves and for the procurement of ground equipment. All naval aviation appropriations are managed by the Navy and are considered by the Navy to be “blue” Navy dollars. Less the pilot’s salary and housing, for example, the cost of the machine itself and all costs associated with the operation and maintenance of a Marine helicopter or fixed-wing aircraft are funded with resources categorized in the Department as blue dollars. All Departmental Research and Development funds are managed in a single blue-dollar account. Thus, the funds for research and development of a Marine Corps truck, howitzer, rifle or aircraft are categorized “blue dollars in support of green programs,” even when those dollars have been justified and appropriated to the Department based on Marine requirements. While Marines can lobby, argue and negotiate for funding of these programs, allocation to and decrements against them are decisions effected, principally, by Navy managers and Navy advisers to the Secretary.
The net effect is that the Commandant has only limited authority to manage the resources allocated to the Corps. For example, a trade-off between Marine aviation and ground programs, if one were desirable, is not a choice the Commandant can make unilaterally. The Chiefs of Staff of the Army and Air Force, and the CNO can, but the Commandant cannot. Such a trade-off requires Navy approval or concurrence because of the blue-dollar syndrome. Similarly, a funding reduction to the Department generally results in a tax, or “bogie” which is applied proportionately. While the larger, billion-dollar accounts of the Navy can more readily absorb a tax of a few hundred millions, Marine Corps direct-funded accounts—dramatically smaller in size and generally lacking flexibility—cannot.
In a recent DoD Readiness Oversight Council briefing on the subject of the difficulties in recruiting, the Secretary of Defense asked if all services had reprogrammed resources to shore up recruit advertising and operating expenses. Three service chiefs nodded affirmatively, but one—the Commandant—could not because he lacked the flexibility and depth of resources to redirect the necessary funds.
To ensure that the Navy-Marine Corps team partnership will continue to grow, this situation must be corrected. A way must be found within the Department to allocate sufficient resources to each service equitably, to give both the flexibility that presently exists only in one. Major programs always will be in competition, with funding often swinging dramatically toward one service or the other. However, support of programs, even those managed in a single Departmental account, must be balanced to meet the requirements of both services on a more even-handed basis, without the visceral argument that Navy dollars (instead of Departmental dollars) are paying Marine Corps bills.
The V-22 tilt-rotor program mentioned earlier also illustrates of the dichotomy between the two fundamental issues: Marine determination of Marine requirements, and the equitable split of resources. For the past decade the top aviation priority of the Marine Corps has been the V-22. It will replace the oldest helicopter in the U.S. inventory still in operation. Procurement will begin in 1997, but the Department is currently programmed to procure it at a rate of only 9 to 12 aircraft per year over a 25-year period, under a funding cap on the program. Correspondingly, the top aviation requirement for the Navy, the F/A-18E/F—identified only three years ago—is planned to be procured at a rate three to six times that of the V-22, and will replace state-of-the-art F/A-18C/D aircraft still being introduced into the fleet today. Few voices at the highest levels of the Navy have questioned whether the Department can afford to buy 1,000 F/A-18E/Fs at a cost of $60-70 million each. Many, however, question the affordability of the Marine Corps’ top aviation warfighting priority—even though the total V-22 requirement is for less than half that number at half that price for each. A new F-18 might be fundamentally important to the Navy, but no more than the V-22 is to the Marines. A statement by a Navy spokesman that “. . . the V-22 may not be affordable by the Navy . . .” is as inflammatory and as wrongly-conceived as would be a public statement by a Marine that the F/A-18E/F is neither needed by, or affordable for, the Navy—and ye, that is at least as valid a thesis for debate. But the fundamental flaws are that a Navy voice is passing unilateral judgment on a Marine requirement at all, and that a Departmentally funded requirement of that scope can be unarguably based on blue votes alone, while an arguably more critical green program is arbitrarily subject to blue votes—if not blue veto— as well. Meanwhile, the scope and size of the F/A-18E/F program, with which a third of naval aviation (Marines) may not agree, gets funded at three to six times the acquisition and introduction rate of the Marine Corps’ decade-old, top aviation requirement.
Whatever the merits of either argument, the critical points to address are the organizational structure, process, and decision authority that enable crucial decisions of this magnitude to be implemented by so one-sided a management relationship. Philosophically and practically, it is fundamentally wrong.
And so, if the cohesion and common focus of “Forward... From the Sea” is to continue to move toward reality, these two problems must be resolved. Progress has been made, and the potential—not just for increased harmony, but, far more important, for balance and equality between the two services that make up the Navy-Marine Corps team—is, in my judgment, at a high point. But that potential will not blossom if requirements determination, and resource allocation and management are controlled essentially by the blue shirts, while the green shirts are called upon to carry the ball on the post-Cold War playing field, as one of the most decisive teams in the national—or international—league with little say or flexibility in the support required or apportioned to execute their part of the game plan.
I began my tour four years ago with a thesis that the Golden Age of America’s naval forces is upon us. Sailors and Marines will be this nation’s force of choice for the foreseeable future. We are on the way to achieving an unprecedented focus and capability as a team that will win international Superbowls for years to come; but to do that demands as equal partnership. That condition cannot exist in a requirements-and-resource allocation and management-team relationship in which “NAVY” is all caps, and “marine corps” always is lower case.
The team is on the right track. And in spite of some harsh realities just described, the personalities, the leadership relationships, and the realities of the post-Cold War world order are in place perhaps better than ever before to enable the team to become the Superbowl champions—but there is still a way to go in perfecting the playbook.
A 1957 graduate of Auburn University, General Mundy retired this year as the 30th Commandant of the Marine Corps, culminating 38 years of distinguished service.