"Let's Fix Retention Now"
(See M. Butler, pp. 28-30, February 1999 Proceedings)
Senior Chief Navy Counselor Paul Pierce, U.S. Navy—Some of Master Chief Butler's assumptions about the lack of satisfaction and self-esteem among "pushbutton" third-class petty officers are a bit simplistic.
To presume that our technicians lack satisfaction and self-esteem because their initial accomplishments are academic, high-tech rather than low-tech, and took place in school rather than on a ship, is simplistic. No one gives our high-tech graduates of "A" and "C" schools their third-class chevrons. They earn them by qualifying for and completing demanding schools. Schools, I might add, that many sailors do not even qualify to attend. When I received my third-class chevron by surviving 15 months of difficult electronics training that sent 60% of my original classmates to the fleet as "IBMs"—instant boatswain's mates—my self-esteem and satisfaction were reasonably pegged, as was my relief meter.
As Master Chief Butler mentions, the question of whether a sailor is satisfied depends on many factors. Assuming that all sailors have their basic needs met in equal proportions, then the decisive factors that determine retention are more likely to center around expectations and perceived opportunity.
The fact that our schooled technicians are much harder to grow than their "striker" shipmates isn't lost on the technicians or on the Navy. Truth drives our selective reenlistment bonus in much the same way that salaries in the free market economy are driven by supply and demand. While any electronics type can do any other jobs that any of his nontechnical shipmates can do (and as Master Chief Butler noted, they are doing), the converse is not true. No undesignated sailor or boatswain's mate can help augment the command effort by troubleshooting communications systems or local computer network when a shortfall of technicians exists.
A nondesignated sailor or boatswain's mate is not as likely to be as dissatisfied with his lot in life when he performs tasks more closely related to his skill level than a technician asked to perform the same types of work. Another factor is that—apples to apples—the wages and benefits for a "blue-collar worker" in the Navy are very generous compared to what is widely available to the civilian counterpart. The same is not true for their techie shipmate. These two reasons range of work performed and relative benefits—explain why a mess management specialist is more likely to be content with the Navy than an electronics technician.
I agree with Master Chief Butler that a sailor grown in deck division is almost certain to have better leadership skills than his techie shipmate, but both sailors are rewarded for achievements related to their aptitudes and abilities.
"The A-12 Legacy: It Wasn't an Airplane—It Was a Train Wreck"
(See H. Fenster, pp. 33-39, February 1999 Proceedings)
Vice Admiral Robert F. Dunn, U.S. Navy (Retired), former Deputy Chief of Naval Operations for Air Warfare—Contrary to the implications rife throughout the article, there was no vast conspiracy in the Navy to acquire the A-12. In fact, the concept for the aircraft responded to a set of requirements articulated by the unified commanders-in-chief and verified as attainable within a reasonable cost by a wide spectrum of experts in the field, both government and civilian. That neither the requirements nor the cost estimates were met is indeed a sad chapter in the history of naval aviation, but it was not for want of trying. Hindsight does show that mistakes were made and poor judgments were exercised along the way, but most of those mistakes and poor judgments were not in the category of things the instant article portrays.
Nor is the article on the mark when it discusses the effect of the A-12 on the future of naval aviation, then or now. While the author is on his home ground when it comes to discussing legal and procurement issues, he ventures far afield when he tries to analyze the aviation needs of the Navy. Unfortunately, he got it wrong.
In the first part of the article, several statements would lead one to the conclusion that a conspiracy was at work. For example, that the decision to develop the A-12 in the "black" world "would virtually eliminate any oversight from outside the department." Nothing could be further from the truth. The A-12 was in the "black" because it used technology classified in the "black" by the Office of the Secretary of Defense (OSD). In those days, even the shape of the outer mold line of a stealthy aircraft was "black," as was much of the rest of the aircraft and systems. As far as hiding from oversight, regular briefings were conducted for numerous cleared officials in the Navy, in OSD, and in Congress. While Navy and OSD staff generally were knowledgeable and interested and asked many hard questions, except for Senator John Glenn—a naval aviator—congressmen generally remained mute in meetings and briefings, seemingly mesmerized by the technology.
Contrary to the statement, "the technologies required were not yet available (something the Navy knew)," the technologies were being used in the B-2, a program that shared detailed information with the Navy. Likewise, F-117 information was shared. Unfortunately, the footnote associated with this passage has no seeming connection to what the Navy knew or didn't know.
Throughout the article, there is much discussion about the contractors being led astray by the Navy on matters of cost and risk. There always will be differences of opinion when it comes to cost and risk (and weight), but the bottom line is that some of the most vaunted giants in aerospace signed the contracts. Once signed, the Navy, OSD, Congress, and the public have a right to expect that they will perform.
The allegation that the Navy contractors could not meet the weight and cost goals is just not right. There are a number of different ways to estimate cost and weight for a "paper" airplane, which the A-12 was at that point. The government tends to go by historical experience; contractors try to claim all the benefits of new technologies and new materials. There is always disparity at the outset. One fact of doing business when building airplanes is for the government and the contractor to work together to close the differences between the two approaches to weight and cost estimation. That, by the way, is why, in 1988—before any metal had been cut or any composites had been laid—the Deputy Chief of Naval Operations for Air Warfare told the Commander of the Naval Air Systems Command to stick to the terms of the contract until closure had gone as far as it could.
As the A-12 program proceeded, albeit with increasing difficulty for a variety of reasons, the Berlin Wall came down and the Soviet Union went away. With them went the high priority that had once been accorded the requirement that the Navy have a stealthy, long-range, carrier-based strike aircraft. Instead, in an increasingly budget-constrained environment, the carrier aircraft focus was changed to aircraft that could gain and maintain air superiority and support friendly troops ashore. That was the combination of the upgraded F-14D and the F/A- 18. Long-range strike was accorded a lesser priority, and the numbers of A-12s went down. This, of course, raises the unit price and the aircraft indeed did become unaffordable, along with whatever other problems it had.
The author is correct that the deepstrike mission was the A-12's primary function. The unified commanders and the Navy continue to see deep strike from a carrier as a needed capability, but when the threat is stacked up, that mission doesn't stack as high as it once did. Instead, for long range, commanders will rely on land-based aircraft (when they can find bases for beddown), cruise missiles (as long as a sustained level of effort is not required), and air-refueled strike fighters. The F/A-18E/F will do even better.
Finally, when the author predicts that the answer to his own question about the future of naval aviation is "nothing," he fails Naval Aviation 101. There was and is only one primary mission for the aircraft carrier: To fly planes from.
The first mission of those airplanes is to gain and maintain air dominance over a given area. Once that is ensured, then other things can be done—from the air or from the sea. Other ships can launch cruise missiles and unoccupied air vehicles and communicate with satellites unimpeded by the enemy. Friendly forces can be supported with air-delivered weapons or with air-delivered supplies and surface ships and submarines can be kept at bay with airborne antiship and antisubmarine aircraft. All this can be done without reliance on bases in someone else's territory, and can be there and ready on short notice and stay as long as needed. Nothing on the horizon says this is going to change. The readers of Proceedings know this; too bad the author did not.
"The Reserves: Ready to Fight. . . World War I?"
(See J. Keegan, pp. 54-56, February 1999 Proceedings)
Lieutenant Commander Ed Ebinger, U.S. Navy—Kudos to Commander Keegan for his call for a complete overhaul of our reserve organization. His recognition that an antiquated and ill-designed structure is limiting the value of the guard and reserve and his call for major revision are long overdue.
But Commander Keegan fails to mention numerous innovations initiated within the reserve community over the past couple of years in an effort to better support the fleet. First, the dedication and professionalism of the members within the system, both temporary active reserve (TAR) and drilling reservists, should be recognized. Second, these initiatives support Commander Keegen's premise—that everybody involved recognizes its significant shortfalls. The debate should focus on whether it is better to improve the system or to replace the system. I am in the "replace the system" camp, and I hope that future debates and reviews come to the same conclusion.
While not a TAR myself, I am the commanding officer of Explosive Ordnance Disposal Mobile Unit Twelve, which is a naval reserve facility (NRF). After a full year in the billet, I not only still view the reserve system as daunting, but also as an extremely wasteful exercise in futility. I am the son of a retired Naval Reserve officer. My memories of his grumbling about the bureaucracy and inefficiency of the system have become my reality as I echo his sentiment.
As I write this, my staff is fighting two separate battles with the system. In both cases, we have a plan and we have the right reservist to execute it, but we have a system that is hindering us instead of helping us. As an NRF, we come the closest to the goal of full integration between actives and reserves on a routine basis. But my experience has shown, for many of the same reasons Commander Keegan states, that the organization and administration of the reserves present major hurdles to effective integration.
Reservists are tremendously valuable assets who need to be incorporated further into the warfighting missions of the Navy. Their ever-increasing contributions clearly demonstrate their motivation and dedication. As Commander Keegan recognizes, the problem is not with the people, it is with the system.
"DD-21's Fatal Flaw"
(See M. Fitzgerald, pp. 42-45, February 1999 Proceedings)
Rear Admiral J. A. Carnevale, Program Executive Officer for the 21st Century Destroyer (DD-21)—Those of us involved with the U.S. Navy's Land Attack Destroyer (DD-21) program appreciate the author's concern over the vitally important issue of damage-control (DC) readiness, which is indeed one of our top priorities. But it seems clear that he neither recognizes how DC operations on board DD-21 will represent a paradigm shift from previous ship-design efforts, nor understands the Navy's process for using off-the-shelf equipment on ships.
The ability of DD-21 to operate safely with fewer personnel on board is at the heart of the ship design process, where key decisions are focused on reducing or eliminating traditional, labor-intensive functions. Without speculating on specific technologies or systems that may be incorporated into the DD-21 system, many advanced technologies and reduced manning design concepts are under consideration by our industry design teams. For example, advanced propulsion, auxiliary, and damage-control concepts are being considered very early in the design process by DD-21 industries to capitalize on automated fire-containment methods and the obviation of conflagration.
We expect DD-21 to have dramatically improved remote sensing and interior communications capabilities to provide advanced warning and facilitate rapid automated localization of fire or flooding in various shipboard compartments, drastically reducing if not eliminating the need for investigators, firefighters, and messengers at the site of the damage. Fires in these spaces also will be more easily contained and controlled with innovative ship-design architectural improvements and the use of advanced firefighting agents. A blast-resistant hull structure will minimize the chance of a mass conflagration, while mitigating the adverse effects of such a major incident should one occur.
We also are learning from other fleet initiatives, such as the Navy's Smart Ship and Smart Squadron projects, which have introduced new technologies and procedures to control damage and regain full ship capability with optimum-sized crews in the minimum time possible. In short, DD-21 operational requirements promote the use of advanced design, materials, and "smart" systems that will lower the ship's vulnerability to major damage and, if struck, will improve its ability to recover and continue to fight.
"Private Ryan Educates a Nation"
(See T. Greenwood, pp. 74-75, October 1998; W. Parks, p. 10, November 1998; M. Asher, K. Rice, pp. 6-8, January 1999 Proceedings)
Corporal David Carter, Royal Yeomanry (Retired)—I read Colonel Parks's letter with some disappointment. My own impression of Saving Private Ryan was that it was antiwar rather than antimilitary. I cannot claim to be a combat veteran, but my own limited military experience taught me that even rehearsing for "the rainy day" was a pretty bloody horrible business, without the added bonus of a real enemy out there trying to blow off various parts of my anatomy. But like the vast majority of people who choose to serve their country militarily, I like to feel that had I been called upon to do so, I would have formed square defending the colors to the bitter end, believing that fighting for (in my case) Queen, country, and regiment was just. This does not mean I would expect it to be pleasant.
Perhaps it is the perception in some quarters of the military that anything antiwar is antimilitary that partially is responsible for the gulf between public opinion and the armed forces that we often see discussed in this magazine.
I think most veterans who proudly march behind the flag in memory of their fallen comrades earnestly pray that it never happens again, and as such would endorse any attempt to convey the horrors of war to the general public. Nevertheless, accusing them of endorsing the maltreatment of U.S. prisoners of war probably would result in at least one black eye.
"The Silence of the Admirals"
(See J. Webb, pp. 28-34, January 1999; K. Oliver, T. Marfiak, H. DuMond, pp. 6-8, February 1999 Proceedings)
Captain Lisalee Anne Wells, JAGC, U.S. Naval Reserve (Retired)—I commend Proceedings for publishing Mr. Webb's highly medicinal piece. The title evokes the visual image of our admirals—like the lambs—being led to slaughter. As our nation moves further away from the Cold War, the gap widens between what the military is designed to do and the impressions of the young people who staff our political superstructure.
At the same time, the armed forces are encouraged to promote fewer warriors and more administrators. While not deliberately calculated to do so, raising administration over warfare as the standard for superior naval skills results in a greater level of timidity amongst the higher ranks, which continue to reinforce themselves. This is the paradigm box out of which we need to step.
Commander A. Chris de Laurier, Medical Corps, U.S. Naval Reserve—While reading Mr. Webb's article I was reminded of a family friend, a retired Air Force colonel who became my erstwhile career adviser when I was a young Marine aviator in early 1968 on my way to fly more than 100 combat missions in Vietnam. The Colonel was commissioned in the U.S. Army during the 1930s and assigned to a cavalry unit. When the Army disbanded the cavalry, the Colonel requested transfer to the Army Air Corps, although he believed that the Army was abandoning 150 years of strategic and tactical knowledge in exchange for unproven mechanization.
Mr. Webb's article likewise looks to the past, not the future. Mr. Webb barely notes the changes that have taken place during the last half-century. These changes in governments, industry, finance, and technology are so comprehensive and extreme that today's processes would be unrecognizable to an observer who had slept through the last 50 years. To believe that equivalent changes in this nation's armed forces are not required is shortsighted.
Does political gamesmanship exist in the naval service? Absolutely. But the fundamental issues confronting the Navy today are not about political games as Mr. Webb contends. They are about changes in mission, tactics, force composition, allocation, and deployment. The requirements of national security and relative global stability remain consistent. The strategic and tactical processes to achieve these objectives, however, have changed radically.
At the end of my conversations with the Colonel, he often would qualify his musings by suggesting that the world had changed too fast and too much since he was a junior officer. So it has, Colonel. And so it has, Mr. Webb.
"Moving the Navy into the Information Age"
(See M. Loescher, pp. 40-44, January 1999 Proceedings)
Commander Bruce A. Cole, U.S. Navy, Pacific Fleet Deputy Public Affairs Officer—Commander Loescher seems to have a few bones to pick with a few of the Navy's professional communities. In particular, his assessment of Navy public affairs is baffling. Contrary to his assertion, the Navy has used technological advances adroitly to further its public and internal communication. Witness, for example, the use of digital photography and video imagery to illustrate quickly the Navy's involvement in strikes against Iraq. The technical community is trying to catch up with the Direct-to-Sailor TV vision. Stories and photos about sailors have been on the Web for years.
What is more amazing than his oversight of uses of information technology is his laying blame on the public affairs officers (PAOs) for Tailhook and the Naval Academy scandals. I suppose Commander Loescher bemoans the fact that PAOs can't hide the misconduct, errors in judgment, and self-destructive decisions of naval officers. There are potentially negative stories you never hear about because a PAO took the time and had the skill to give a story context and to demonstrate how perhaps it wasn't as newsworthy as it might initially appear. But lying and coverups aren't part of the job—there's this responsibility to the taxpayer thing. Regarding Admiral Boorda's suicide, were PAOs supposed to hide that somehow, too? An incredible assertion.
Because there are just fewer than 200 Navy PAOs, you don't gain much end strength if you "recapitalize the manpower for the tooth" as Commander Loescher suggests. He overplays his hand on what is gained by bringing in contract public relations specialists. While that can help on a case-by-case basis, you still need a link with the military knowledge to ensure that the input and output make sense. You also need professionals with a "passion for the product." To us, the Navy isn't just an other account. It's what we are and what we do.
I'm confident our leaders understand the value of a uniformed public affairs community. If not, however, I'm eligible for retirement in a couple of years. I'd be happy to come work for the Navy as a public relations contractor and bill you by the hour.
"The Last Days of Carrier Based Aviation?"
(See R. Arthur, p. 75, January 1999; J. Nathman, pp. 16-17, February 1999 Proceedings)
Lieutenant (junior grade) Ian Craig, Air Intelligence Officer, VF-154—Free exchange of professional ideas is one of the most important tenets of our Navy. It reflects our roots in a democratic society, allows juniors to pass unpopular ideas up the chain of command, and keeps our tactics and technology at the cutting edge. But it also gives rise to many theories of questionable validity. Lieutenant Arthur voiced one such theory.
The centerpiece of Lieutenant Arthur's commentary is that the combination of the Tomahawk missile and naval gunfire support (NGFS) will suffice for our power-projection needs. But carriers serve key roles in strike warfare, local air control, and electronic warfare and intelligence gathering that continue to be vital.
Lieutenant Arthur ignores the vital role that air support plays in amphibious operations. Carrier-based aircraft can establish early air superiority over landing areas (while Aegis ships and their "local air control" are still far out at sea with the amphibious group), gathering information about the assault area, reducing enemy positions, and interdicting reinforcements. As the Marine Corps moves closer to Operational Maneuver From the Sea, direct assaults from over the horizon will require precise support while NGFS platforms are of sight and range.
Furthermore, as surface combatants experience the same price and capabilities inflation earlier experienced by aircraft, will they become too valuable to risk in the inshore NGFS role? What amphibious group commander would risk a $800 million multirole DD-21 within range of the enemy coast, when low-cost mines and shore batteries easily could damage or destroy the vessel? Mines have been the bane of the post-World War II surface navy, while shore batteries—seemingly an anachronism in the days of the battleship—may have gained new life with the advent of unarmored destroyers and guided-missile destroyers.
Both cruise missiles and NGFS require substantial inorganic targeting support. For example, attempting to target cruise missiles against a mobile surface-to-air missile (SAM) battery is an exercise in futility. A daily shift in position can throw off the missile's targeting information while still allowing the battery to cover the same piece of sky. Assigning the same target to carrier-based tactical aircraft allows the planes to find the battery with their on-board forward-looking infrared (FLIR) radar systems, and then employ a wide range of ordnance against it. These same FLIR systems provide rapid assessment of mission success, permitting shifting of assets to other targets.
This brings up another argument for retention of the carriers—mission flexibility. An F-14 or F/A-18 (and, presumably, a Joint Strike Fighter) can land after a successful strike mission and be rearmed and refueled for a counter-air mission. Once a vertical-launching system (VLS) ship leaves port with its mix of missiles, its mission capabilities are set until its next extended port visit. The mix of one-shot missiles that would enable an escort flotilla to protect an amphibious group from air and surface attack, conduct prolonged deep-strike warfare against enemy lines of communication, and provide continuous tactical support to engaged ground forces is too large to be cost-effective.
Calling on Marine aviation to fill a carrier gap is also a dead end. A six- to eight-plane AV-8B detachment cannot simultaneously provide visual identification of air threats to the battle group, tactical support, and deep-strike capability—the missions that Lieutenant Arthur would have them assume. Despite the promise of drones, carrier aircraft are far superior at carrying out the mission of forward air controller (airborne), tying together air and artillery assets to support the decisive ground battle.
Lieutenant Arthur would have us settle for Aegis-based "Local Air Control"—when we have carrier-based battlespace dominance. The surveillance capabilities of the carrier air wing (the E-2 and S-3 platforms), combined with weapon capabilities beyond the range of a ship-based Harpoon or SM-2, enable complete control over the air and sea space in which a carrier operates. The case for carrierbased subsurface dominance is tougher to make; the brown-shoe navy has done itself no favors by removing antisubmarine warfare from the S-3.
The Navy leadership also has shot itself in the foot with the decommissioning of the ES-3, taking away the carrier's organic signal intelligence aircraft. But Lieutenant Arthur's argument that these missions can be accomplished by other means can be refuted. Satellites have limited time over each area of the earth, and classification issues and simple logistics hinder the flow of information to the warfighter. As for those "highflying reconnaissance aircraft" (i.e., the U-2), they have been vulnerable for nearly 40 years to the SA-2—still the most widely deployed SAM in the world. U-2s require a substantial "package" of support to ensure mission success.
The very concept of our Navy is one of expeditionary warfare. Do we want our warfighters to depend on land-based air power for support and protection? This assumes that we always will have the necessary allies and basing rights.
Lieutenant Arthur closes by commenting negatively on preliminary designs for the next generation of carriers. Stealth features and manpower reductions aside, future designs should not alter the basic purpose of the carrier—in war, to take the fight to enemy; in peace, to demonstrate U.S. dominance at sea; and at all times, to support the Navy-Marine Corps team and our national security strategy.
"‘Mariner-Class': A New Merchant Marine Officer"
(See J. McNulty, pp. 68-70, January 1999; R. Allee, p. 18, February 1999 Proceedings)
Lieutenant Commander John K. Hafner, U.S. Naval Reserve, Master Mariner—Rear Admiral McNulty suggests that there is some correlation between the accelerated rate of technological advancement in the shipping industry and the need to cross-train merchant marine officer cadets. This sounds suspiciously like the idea of someone with a naval background in shipping.
Although the rate of technological advancement has increased, Admiral McNulty is incorrect in assuming that cross-training officers somehow will benefit the shipping industry.
Quite the opposite is true. What is required in this highly technical field is an officer who can report on board ship with in-depth knowledge of the equipment and machinery with which he will be working, not some "jack of all trades" that this type of program would produce.
Indeed, one of the strengths in the organization of a merchant vessel is the fact there are dedicated engineers and deck officers. I am aware of no seagoing organization, other than the U.S. Navy, that is not organized in this manner. This is one of the reasons that a merchant vessel can operate with such small crews.
There always is room for improvement in education and training; however, cross training seems irrelevant to technological advancement.
"We Don't Need an IW Commander"
(See E. Dahl, pp. 48-49, January 1999 Proceedings)
Lieutenant Commander Bill Hamblet, Intelligence Officer, Carrier Air Wing Seven—My interest in information warfare was piqued by a post-deployment debrief by the Eisenhower (CVN-69) Battle Group's information warfare commander (IWC). IWCs are writing doctrine to justify their command of command, control, communications, and intelligence.
As a Navy and as a military, we are still in the early stages of developing doctrine, terminology, and structures for information warfare (IW). The debate is heating up, and the debate is a healthy sign that smart people from all warfare areas are engaging in an area of considerable importance. The IWC said several times during his presentation that the organization they built on the Eisenhower was just their idea and it worked for them, but it may not be the right answer. There is room for experimentation.
Most of the functions that the IWC talked about were traditional intelligence functions. He spoke about information dominance and understanding the battle space and potential enemies. He described in detail how the IWC team formulated a collection plan for the Adriatic—a function usually performed by the N2. When he described the people who worked under the IWC umbrella, most of them were intelligence or cryptologic personnel, with electronic warfare (EW) people and communicators. As carrier battle groups are configured and manned, it is hard to argue that we have an information warfare capability. We have a robust intelligence and cryptologic capability, but I'm not sure intelligence equals information warfare. Our EWs are tasked with electronic defense of the battle group, but I'm not sure that fits the description of information warfare. The air wing's EA-6B Prowlers have an electronic-attack capability, but they work for the strike warfare commander and generally operate in support of offensive strike warfare. Navy battle groups possess no experts in psychological operations (PsyOps) and lack the expertise and access to perform true cyberwar. If an enemy's computer networks are going to be attacked, it is more likely that such an attack could be launched from a black program office than from a carrier or cruiser operating in the enemy's littoral.
During the USS John C. Stennis (CVN-74) deployment to the Persian Gulf last year, I saw that tactical units do not play a prominent role in selecting targets to fulfill the guidance and objectives of a campaign plan. The planning and target selection that led up to Operation Desert Fox, including any IW targets, was performed mostly at the joint task force, regional commander-in-chief, and Joint Chiefs levels. Local tactical commanders, including the carrier battle group, worked on the execution-level planning and raised their particular concerns in the "racking and stacking" of targets. But the campaign plan was not driven by the carrier battle group, and the IW part of the campaign certainly was not heavily influenced by the carrier battle group IWC.
If the carrier battle group possesses little expertise and only minor mission tasking in IW, do we really need an IWC? The battle group's lack of IW capability supports Commander Dahl's position that we don't. Intelligence has to support all the warfare commanders. PsyOps are handled at the joint task force level. Physical destruction, deception, operational security, and electronic warfare are the responsibility of every warfare commander. Managing communication systems without which the battle group cannot function seems to be a job for the N6. Until an IW requirement can be logically stated and validated, any effort to build a battle group IWC seems to be only an exercise in renaming intelligence and communications.
"Where Surface Warfare Is Headed-and Why"
(See M. Mullen. pp. 76-79, October 1998; J. Pollin, p. 6, January 1999 Proceedings)
Captain P. M. Grant III, U.S. Navy, Program Manager, Navy Theater Wide—Commander Pollin points out that the Navy Theater Wide program has not yet been baselined—but that is an administrative matter. True, the program is funding constrained, as are all of the ballistic missile defense programs. If funded, an initial Navy Theater Wide (NTW) Block I capability could be engineered in the fleet as soon as 2005. But to state that it is a paper program is misleading. The program has been working since 1996, with an active program manager and staff. It is developing the demonstration weapon system that will begin intercept flight testing on an Aegis cruiser of the exoatmospheric SM-3 guided missile in 1999. The demonstration program is known as Aegis Leap Intercept (ALI), and its engineering is transportable to the next and final phase.
In November 1998, the ALI target ballistic missile was tested successfully at Pacific Missile Range Facility, Barking Sand, Kauai, Hawaii. During that test, the Aegis cruisers Lake Erie (CG-70) and Port Royal (CG-73), fitted with the Area Linebacker computer programs, tracked the target and successfully completed simulated area theater ballistic missile defense (TBMD) engagements. At the same time, the Boeing Airborne Surveillance Testbed aircraft, fitted with the SM-3 Kinetic Warhead Infrared Seeker Captive Carry system, successfully tracked the target. Real-time radio frequency and infrared data were uplinked to the NTW system testbed site at Raytheon Tucson, where a simulated Aegis Leap Intercept was accomplished with SM-3 flight components on our Hardware-in-the-Loop facility. The NTW program is on track to prove the capability of Aegis with Standard missiles to defeat medium- and long-range theater ballistic missiles over their entire exoatmospheric flight path.
Because NTW is an acquisition of an evolving new capability that builds on Aegis and the Area TBMD program, we are not working from a blank sheet of paper. In fact, the Navy has an integrated combat system (Aegis) with more than 20 years of operational experience, and deployed to the fleet in more than 50 ships and in two (soon to be three) nations (United States and Japan; Spain is just starting its Aegis shipbuilding program). The Aegis radar (AN/SPY-1) and companion Mk 41 vertical launch system are proven in-service components of the Aegis combat system. The SM-3 guided missile evolved from the in-service Standard missile, while its kinetic warhead evolved form the Ballistic Missile Defense Organization-developed lightweight exoatmospheric projectile.
"A Naval Concepts-Based Vision for Space"
(See R. Bowdish, B. Woodyard, pp. 50-53, January 1999; J. Morsello, p. 13, February 1998 Proceedings)
Kenneth Roy—We start down the wrong path when we begin thinking of space in terms of a particular service. We need to address the special problems and opportunities of space technology from a national perspective.
The first concept—warfighter support—proposed by Commanders Bowdish and Woodyard is acceptable, but the U.S. Navy should not allow ships, communications, or weapon systems to depend totally on space-based assets. Doing so creates a weakness that will invite attack. It is important to maintain the old skills used before the space age. Satellites are fragile things in predictable orbits. It doesn't take much of a space launch capability to put a cloud of gravel into space. If a satellite ran through such a cloud at orbital speeds, assuredly it would suffer damage—probably serious.
The concept of space control also is fine, as far as it goes. But proper execution will require a national effort involving all the services, all our intelligence organizations, and careful coordination with our closest allies. But it skirts a much more important issue. "Space control" is analogous to "ocean control." Ocean control requires sea power, which requires military forces to operate with the ability to destroy any adversary who seeks to operate in that same environment. It is dangerous to push an analogy too far, but eventually the same will be said of space control and power.
The third concept—force on demand—is faulty. Nondeployment of a spacebased weapon system is not so much national policy as the recognition that we do not possess the ability to do so . . . yet. My discussions with Glenn H. Reynolds, coauthor of Outer Space—Problems of Law and Policy (Westview Press, 1997), indicate that no known treaty or agreement would be broken if a nation deployed earth-built weapons into space (as long as they were not weapons of mass destruction). But small precision weapons put within a few feet of the target are just as useful and far more acceptable than large (thousands of tons of TNT equivalent) weapons tossed at the general area of a target. What kind of threat would we need to deploy a space-to-ground weapon system to counter? We can hit almost anything we need to with existing weapon systems. What would be more useful is a space-to-space weapon system that would take out the other guy's space-to-ground weapon system.
The promise of space technology to control vast material and energy and to project power onto the surface of the earth is simply too great. Space is a place where military forces will operate. We must accept this fact and begin to work it into our vision of the future, from both national and naval perspectives.
"Military Virtue & the Future of the Naval Service"
(See M. Dunaway, pp. 76-79, December 1998; J. Callaway, J. Hayek, D. Adams, pp. 10-12, February 1999 Proceedings)
Chief Gunner's Mate Allen J. Mclean Jr., U.S. Navy—Captain Dunaway's article was not only disjointed and unfocused, but self-serving. Implying any semblance of similarity between the author's situation and that of the former Chief of Naval Operations while saying that he believes that Admiral Boorda didn't give him a fair shake is disingenuous at the least; it borders on being dishonorable.
The erstwhile commanding officer should admit that he violated Article 134 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice by jumping from a ship. Everyone knows what happens when "man overboard" is called away; flank speed ahead and hard rudder. People can be injured by missile hazards or by being tossed about.
The other issue is his appalling bad judgment. Commanding officers do not jump off of their ships to prove how much they trust their crews. They do it in other, more sane ways. What if he were still in command and had someone launch a cruise missile at his ship to prove how much he trusted his crew?
Where was the virtue in what he did? How can he not realize what he did wrong and what his bad judgment was? What he did would have seen an enlisted at non-judicial punishment and a psychological evaluation at the least. But Captain Dunaway was promoted. We don't need immature people in the service, especially not in command.
Lieutenant Edwin Carl Oyer, U.S. Navy (Retired)—Captain Dunaway acted as a set-by-example leader to prove his crew was ready. I agree; you never should ask of anyone that which you would not do. Realism arouses the desires to survive and succeed. Was Captain Dunaway wrong? Not in my eyes; I'd follow him to hell and back. The "yes" men won again, and leadership took a hit.
"Listen to the JOs—Why Retention is a Problem"
(See J. Natter, A. Lopez, and D. Hodges, pp. 58-62, October 1998; J. Crosley, J. Byron, p. 10, November 1998; P. Hall, pp. 17-20, December 1998; D. Schildge, J. Hayward, pp. 20-22, January 1999; C. Schuster, p. 15, February 1999 Proceedings)
Mark S. Myers—Extended deployments, noncompetitive pay/benefits, decreasing assets, and the increasing demand for military presence throughout the world are factors that undeniably affect retention and should be addressed and resolved.
But as important and complex as these issues are, retention ultimately will hinge on the military's ability to produce and field quality leadership throughout the organization. This is just as applicable in the civilian work environment, and logic dictates its application in the military arena. Quality leaders, supervisors, and managers are key in determining unit and organizational success. Offering people a solid, rational, and fair work environment that is—at the same time—responsive to individual or group concerns often helps to alleviate more complex issues (lower-than-desired pay scales, extended family separations, etc.). Providing an atmosphere where unit members can develop skills while learning from their mistakes—without fear of compromising their career—also is necessary for retaining valuable personnel.
Inadequate leaders are an unfortunate reality. Those examples, however, are easy to identify. Morale and effectiveness speak volumes about quality of leadership. Staff retention also should serve as a reliable gauge in identifying undesirable leadership in certain circumstances.
A unit or organization's decline as a result of ineffective leadership should be considered unacceptable. Top management within the services must be aware this fact and should act swiftly to resolve it as an issue affecting junior officer (JO) retention. They should be listening closely to JO commentary, via Proceedings and other forums, and be quick to reach appropriate, feasible solutions. If they do anything less, they are doing their military branch a great disservice. It would be simplistic to presume that good leadership alone will cure low retention, but eliminating poor leaders as a factor in the equation should be fairly straightforward. Leaving inadequate leaders in influential positions will further erode retention. Any job can, and should, be a positive experience. The military offers some of the best opportunities for responsible, career-building type jobs. Given proper leadership, the incentive to remain within the military may be greater for one of its most valuable assets: the JOs. Without them, the future will be bleak.
"Where Is Courage?"
(See K. Lunday, pp. 37-39, December 1998 Proceedings)
Commodore Edward G. Neale Jr., Chief, Department of Public Affairs, U.S. Coast Guard Auxiliary—A brief mention in this article on leadership is the only discussion of the Coast Guard's other "reserve force"—the U.S. Coast Guard Auxiliary—in the December Coast Guard focus issue. Founded in June 1939 as the Coast Guard Reserve (the name was changed to Auxiliary as war clouds made evident the need for a military reserve), this year the Coast Guard Auxiliary is celebrating its 60th year of service to its parent service. As it does, the Auxiliary is undergoing a major growth in its responsibilities to assist a Coast Guard that has seen its manpower diminish while its list of missions grows.
The Auxiliary was founded to provide boating safety training to recreational boaters and to assist in aerial and surface search and rescue. During World War II, thousands of Auxiliarists—those who didn't serve in the military outright—volunteered for mobilization as Temporary Reservists (TRs), serving part-time, usually without pay, to man the Coastal Picket Patrol guarding U.S. shores against enemy submarines, mostly German Uboats on the Eastern Seaboard.
After the war, Auxiliarists returned to their basic missions of boating safety education, boat safety equipment checks, and search and rescue. In 1997, for instance, Auxiliarists instructed 250,000 boaters in boating safety, performed courtesy marine examinations on 175,000 recreational boats and personal watercraft, conducted 460,000 hours of waterway patrols, and saved 481 lives and more than $500 million in property.
When federal budget cuts began eating away at Coast Guard manpower earlier this decade, the service once again turned to the Auxiliary. As Auxiliarists assumed more "nontraditional" duties such as watch standing at active-duty Coast Guard units, the Coast Guard lobbied Congress for a change in the Auxilialy authorization legislation that would allow for a greater role for our force of 35,000 volunteers. In 1996, Congress approved a change in law that authorized the Commandant to use volunteer Auxiliarists in any way necessary short of direct involvement in law-enforcement or combat operations.
Today, Auxiliarists are fully integrated members of Team Coast Guard. Hundreds are serving part time—and some even full time—without pay at Coast Guard facilities across the nation.
At Coast Guard Activities San Diego, for example, 15 Auxiliarists are working at the local marine safety office, four are regular watchstanders at the operations center, and three are crew on 41foot rescue boats. Those who augment active-duty units undergo the same training and tests as active-duty personnel.
During last year's flooding along North Dakota's Red River, Auxiliarists provided mobile VHF communications in areas where the Coast Guard had no radio coverage. Auxiliary aircraft also transported supplies and provided aerial reconnaissance of flooded areas. As a result, Auxiliary Division 89, Eighth CG District, Western Rivers Region has become a formal part of the Coast Guard flood response planning for the region.
The Coast Guard Auxiliary is one-of-a-kind. No other U.S. armed force has such a reserve force of civilian volunteers. Membership is open to anyone 17 and older. Nearly 35,000 U.S. citizens find Auxiliary membership not only an excellent way to give something back to their communities, but also a way to be an active, contributing member of the world's premier maritime lifesaving service—the U.S. Coast Guard.