One hundred years ago the U.S. Navy bought its first submarine (the USS Holland [SS-1], pictured above at the U.S. Naval Academy) from one of my very distant relatives. The purchase was made over the objections of most of the Navy hierarchy and without help from the Navy's professional bureaucracy, For the first 15 years of the submarine's existence, its capability was minimal, and its value was denigrated. Submarine expenditures were viewed as detracting from the "proper" Navy—the battleships. Alfred Thayer Mahan still was alive, and his thesis that the role of the Navy was to drive the enemy fleet from the sea resounded in every professional forum.
Even the success of the German Navy's submarines in World War I did little to change the opinion of the U.S. Navy's leadership. During and after that Great War, submarines were viewed as commerce raiders—immoral in their methods and tactics—and robbers of funds from battleships and cruisers, Submarines themselves gradually improved technically, but they remained without a clear mission. Submarines were too slow and awkward to be employed with the fleet, and until construction of the large, long-range submarines began in the mid-1930s, they were difficult to maneuver, maintain, and manage. War games continued to concentrate on the battle line and tactical innovation centered on carrier aviation.
After Pearl Harbor, everything changed—the battle line was sunk or out of action. For two years—except for occasional forays—the only U.S. forces that could operate in the Western Pacific were submarines. Performing spectacularly, these submarines, manned by a minute fraction of the Navy's personnel, drove the Japanese merchant marine from the seas, even though hampered by torpedoes that rarely exploded. The submarines that performed this feat were not designed for this mission; they were designed for a mission only rarely assigned and haphazardly fulfilled—scouting for the battle line.
Covered with glory but left without a future at the end of World War 11 (lacking any potential enemy with a merchant marine), the submarine again was relegated to the sidelines. Within ten years, however, a potential enemy threatened to cut communications with our allies if war should occur, and again controlled the waters in which the surface and air navies would have to operate. Attempts to penetrate those waters would have been costly and difficult. Indeed. the whole Navy seemed relegated to convoy duty as once again the problem of operating in enemy-controlled areas brought those on the surface and in the air face to face with the difficulties of fighting on enemy turf. Submarines, however, had no such problems. The ability to operate where others could not made the submarine platform valuable.
Newly developed nuclear propulsion provided not only near-total invisibility but also undreamed-of endurance. With its World War 11 heritage of distant patrols, aggressive tactics, and a well-understood operational concept, the submarine force progressed from a poor relation. to an important tool, to the centerpiece of the Maritime Strategy. The potential enemy recognized his vulnerabilities and concentrated his forces in waters that in the classic Mahanian sense he could control. But the ability of a submarine to operate in ocean areas regardless of the odds against it meant that this concentration brought no guarantee of tactical superiority. "If the Russians come, we will clean their clock" was well understood by U.S. and British submariners—and eventually by their potential opponent as well.
After being the centerpiece of the Maritime Strategy, submarines once again are viewed as less than useful peripheral machines—with marginal contributions to "Forward ... From the Sea." Recent projections of the future of the submarine force have been laced with pessimism. Responding to theater commanders'-in-chief demands for forces, the submarine force commanders see inadequate numbers, excessive operating tempos, and inadequate maintenance. Builders face a paucity of orders, and the promise of increased numbers in the future is less and less likely to be kept. Submarine program managers experience repeated raids on their resources for objectives and activities that have nothing to do with submarines. Serving officers lament their excessive time at sea, with fewer opportunities to command. The retired community grumbles at the scrapping of their submarines before the end of their useful service lives.
The present picture is one of a force too small to do the tasks assigned to it, wearing out without prospect of relief or replacement, while at the same time regarded as of little importance by a Navy leadership that comes from other warfare specialties. In the long term, however, the view is drastically different. First, and most easily forgotten, is the submarine's role as the nation's primary strategic deterrent, operator and repository of the majority of the U.S, nuclear arsenal. While some nuclear-weapons-capable bombers still exist and a handful of land-based missiles continue to he operational, the prospect for their future existence is dim. But the continuity, necessity, and usefulness of the submarine as the foundation of our nuclear deterrent is unchallenged and will remain so. Total concealment ensures a second-strike capability—something no land-based force can hope to achieve. This strategic task will remain the Navy's for as long as there are nuclear weapons, and the submarine will be the base because of its stealth, security, and endurance.
But the nuclear submarine also has become the primary tactical maritime deterrent. The presence of a nuclear submarine in any part of the ocean translates into such complete dominance that no other ship can operate near it except by the submarine's sufferance. Almost 20 years ago, Richard Sharpe, editor of Jane's Fighting Ships, asserted that possession of a nuclear submarine was the mark of a first-class navy. No matter what else it might have, without a nuclear-powered submarine a navy could not contend for sea control. John Keegan first endorsed this view in an essay in Military History and then in his book, The Price of Admiralty. He foresaw that nuclear submarines would so dominate, that in wars of the future the surface of the sea would be empty until the submarines on one side were eliminated.
The Falklands/Malvinas War, in which one nuclear submarine drove the opposing navy back to port, was the talisman for this future. Regardless of need or ability, surface warships are and will remain essentially useless facing nuclear-powered submarines. The effects of long-range reconnaissance and satellite-based surveillance have made submarines even more deadly since the early 1980s. When linked directly to the submarine platform, they make the surface of the ocean uninhabitable for enemies of the U.S. Navy. The net result is that the submarine force deters the construction of an oceangoing surface navy by any power anticipating a conflict with the United States. Surface warships other than coastal craft exist only rarely in the navies of potential enemies, with fewer and fewer being built. Should war break out, those that do exist are likely to meet an early end from the nuclear submarines that will enter enemy waters and "prepare the battlefield."
This view of the surface ship as a sea-control platform can be seen in many of the present designs for such ships around the world. Surface warships have many purposes—but maritime dominance is not one of them. No longer is there even a pretense that surface warships are being designed or prepared to fight other surface warships. In an ocean dominated by submarines, any surface ship versus surface ship encounter will be purely accidental. This in turn translates into an immense freedom of action and design for the rest of the U.S. Navy. In the past 25 years, the odds have become so heavily weighted in favor of the submarine that many surface warfare specialists declare the problem as too hard or too rare, and turn their attention elsewhere. So powerful is this train of thought that those surface ships being built are often given only minimal antisubmarine warfare capabilities, and some of that is stripped away by anxious captains who want to use the space or people for "important things." They enjoy such freedom only because the submarines on their side dominate the space they expect to occupy without a fight from enemy submarines.
Presently, a potential enemy's maritime threat is not a consideration for the U.S. Navy, which counts on its submarines to scout, protect its operating areas from enemy submarines, and interdict any enemy ship—surface or submarine—that is foolish enough to leave port. This disregard, at least in the littorals, is not likely to survive long into the next century. While the development by other countries of wide-area satellite-based surveillance is unlikely, long-range reconnaissance using high frequency radars, bottom-mounted sensors, and commercial photography promise to make the littorals increasingly transparent. When coupled with shore-based long-range cruise and ballistic missiles featuring precision-guided weapons, the littorals will become not just inhospitable for surface ships—but downright dangerous. Operations on the surface of these waters will grow difficult—if not impossible—until the removal or reduction of the threats from submarines, mines, and future coastal missile batteries. Submarines will remain uninhibited by such threats, because they have both the stealth to avoid detection, and the endurance required to handle them in their own good time. As the surface becomes more untenable inshore, the submarine will grow in importance if the strategy of "Forward ... From the Sea" is to have any relevance.
The two limitations on submarine utility today—magazine capacity and communications capability—will yield to technical improvements that already are in progress and promise to continue unabated into the next century. Magazine size is unlikely to increase—space limitations being rather fixed, But the physical dimensions of munitions are shrinking drastically—5-inch diameter decoys already are flying—allowing the submarine to carry many more. The ability to target these will continue to improve as well. While the instant, ever-present view featured in such recent movies as Enemy of the State is unlikely ever to become reality, the intelligence services are constantly improving their ability to discover targets and locate them accurately. These developments, taken together, reduce the size of the arsenal required to gain decisive results, making it possible for small ships with modem weapons to achieve results that surpass the huge expenditures of ammunition characteristic of classic shore bombardment.
The advent of MILSTAR service worldwide will provide the communications capacity necessary to allow the submarine to enter the major command networks, participate in operational planning, and receive timely intelligence from all sources. Equally important, the ability to compress information to fit available bandwidth is growing exponentially. Together, these developments will bring submarines—and other users restricted to small antennae—into circuits supporting network-centric warfare. A submarine will never have the communications capability available to those surface ships with large antenna arrays, but as technology advances and as more on-scene commanders gain experience with submarine operations, communications problems can be expected to diminish.
Over the 100 years of its existence, the submarine has progressed from a role in harbor defense, to commerce raiding, to what Mahan declared to be the primary function of a Navy—driving the enemy's fleet from the ocean. The submarine has accomplished this last role today even without conflict. For now, submarines will maintain their roles as scouts and reconnaissance vehicles, concealed bases for strategic and tactical weapons, and deterrents of enemy navies. Future missions are less clear. Concentration on those characteristics that are unique to submarines and that have been valuable in the past—i.e., stealth, endurance, and firepower—are more likely 10 return the investment rather than trying to meet some requirement created to gain support in budget negotiations or policy white papers.
In the future, the size of the Navy's submarine force will be less important than its technical prowess. Enough submarines are needed to form a critical mass that allows for the development of doctrine and tactics and maintaining operational expertise. Staying at the front edge of the applicable technologies cannot be left to civil enterprise. The investment in submarines requires more than research and development, and enough ships must be built to maintain the engineering and craft talents related to them. These are the ingredients for any navy that expects to be useful in 100 years—because the only warship type operating today that is certain still to be operating in 2101 is the submarine.
Rear Admiral Holland spent most of his 32 years of active duty in submarines or related billets.