At the U.S. Naval Station San Diego, Pier 6, an Arleigh Burke-class guided-missile destroyer moors under normal conditions—flood tide about two-tenths of a knot and wind from the northwest gusting to eight knots—a frequent and normal event with no other ships at the 1,100-foot-long and 650-foot-wide pier. It's another great day in sunny San Diego. What may attract the attention of Navy veterans would be that this highly capable warship has two V-drive tugs made up and the red and white "Code Hotel" flags are hanging limp from the port yardarm, signifying that a harbor pilot is on board to assist with the landing. Needless to say, the landing would go very well and surely the deck log would reflect a successful evolution. The conditions are normal for today's fewer-than-300-ship Navy and another example of "valet parking" as described in Captain Stuart Landersman's article "Where Have All the Shiphandlers Gone?" in Proceedings' August 2006 issue. Valet parking—a term that is right on the mark. At this same pier 30 years ago a different picture would have been painted. The U.S. Navy then had more than 700 ships and steam power still reigned as gas turbines were just being introduced. The Spruance-class destroyers and Aegis cruisers were every surface line officer's dream commands. San Diego piers were filled with destroyers and cruisers and pier availability required that ships of similar hull design be nested to ensure that they could be at a pier. This included the 963-class destroyers. Tugs were few and used primarily for large service and amphibious ships, so cruisers and destroyers were on their own to get underway or moor. This made shiphandling a major training priority and junior officers were expected to perform as qualified sea detail officers of the deck and be capable of doing pier work unassisted.
Truly Professional Training
This did not happen by chance as the Navy had a well-defined training progression that guaranteed extensive learning opportunities. Line officers had time to "drive ships" and lieutenants were screened based on their abilities with some of the most promising assigned to command minesweepers, a two-year tour providing command and small-ship handling experience. Lieutenant commanders were screened to command destroyer escorts and were further evaluated for destroyer command. Command opportunity was high and, for those who qualified, the desire for command was even higher.
All training was not at sea. The destroyer force had learned from the aviation and submarine communities that intensive platform skill training for junior officers was needed as a prerequisite for career success. Thus, a special school for destroyer-oriented officers was established.
Destroyer School was an intense, six-month training program designed to support the destroyer force with highly qualified department heads who, later in their careers, would command the ships. The school was molded along the lines of flight school and submarine school for officers. All school department heads were post-command destroyer officers and two ships were assigned as training platforms. The results were superb. Graduates could be assigned to any class destroyer fully qualified to be the weapons, operations, or engineering officer. After completing the destroyer tours, the officer could be assigned as a department head in the more sophisticated cruisers.
Classroom work did not cover general topics, but was specific to the operation of all equipment in the three major departments on board ship and how the equipment related to the ship's operation and warfighting ability. After classroom work on Monday, Tuesday would find students on the school ship for hands-on instruction. How does this relate to shiphandling skills? The answer is simple. The student learned the ship's characteristics and capabilities, an absolute must for any ship handler. "Rules of the Road" and reading flashing light at six words-per-minute minimum, both regularly tested self-study requirements, were designed to mold a more competent mariner.
After completing a rigorous five months of class work, the two school ships put to sea for a one-month cruise with instructors and students for a final review. Students were required to stand every enlisted watch of the three major departments. Shiphandling was an important part of the schedule and every officer had to perform basic ship-handling including leap frogs, mooring and getting under way from a pier, anchoring, dual-ship ASW, mooring to a buoy, and tactical maneuvering including flashing light, signal flags, and punching the signal book. At the cruise's end was ship selection and graduation.
Selecting the student's next ship for duty was a simple process based on class standing. A class of 60 students had 60 sets of orders prepared with number one in the class having first pick and so on until number 60 took the final offering. If a student wanted destroyer duty in a specific homeport or a particular job in a destroyer, he had better be in the top 50 percent of the class. This made for high motivation to do well at Destroyer School.
So Good, It Had to Go
The school was so successful that success brought its demise. The surface Navy had three sub-communities based on ship classes; destroyers, service, and amphibious. The latter two did not have an equivalent pipeline to that of the destroyers and their leaders felt slighted by the loss of the most highly motivated and qualified young officers. This led to split-tour department head assignments that detailed Destroyer School graduates to different type ships for follow-on tours. These split tours initially met with resistance from the destroyer force, but once the force commands combined to form surface force, what had been Destroyer School became Department Head School for all ship types.
The specialization of Destroyer School was lost. Department Head School became general in nature and the school ship concept evaporated. The surface community gradually lost its footing as a highly specialized professional group. General line officers became true generalists. The Navy lost sight of what is required to be a professional surface line officer, what it takes to be a capable mariner, and what it means to have command of a ship at sea.
The aviation community never lost this perspective and pilots are trained to be highly specialized in type. A fighter jock follows a tailhook career and a helo pilot has his path; each will train and then train again in type. They, like their counterparts in the submarine community, continually strive for excellence in performance and are tested on their professional skills to ensure their ability to perform in high stress environments. They have intensive training in simulators and aircraft not assigned to Fleet operational units.
Give the SWO Badge Meaning
In the surface community, officers are given only limited at-sea bridge time because of fuel restrictions and limited hours per year of shore-based simulator time. Each ship is only authorized 40 hours total simulator time per year, which restricts an individual's total training time in ship type. After earning the SWO badge an officer may never again drive a ship during that tour. The new SWO must step aside so others can get minimal bridge time to also qualify. This often results in deterioration of newly acquired seamanship skills.
The surface-line qualification program is poorly defined and open to individual command interpretation. An aviator must complete a well-established, clearly defined program of schooling, simulator, and flying to earn the wings of gold, and a submariner goes through intensive training and testing to earn dolphins including extensive prototype training taking several years.
Newly commissioned surface officers go directly to ships and are placed in on-the-job training directed at earning the Surface Warfare Officer badge in programs that are locally defined. As a result, there is no basic standard to measure the quality of a SWO who wears the pin. Personal Qualification Standards are supposed to be the quality assurance measurement, but this program is only as good as the effort that the command puts into it. It is time to step back and reevaluate surface-line training to determine if the SWO badge has any meaning.
The age of steam propulsion is over as gas turbine powerplants drive most of our 300-ship Navy. Civilians under the Military Sea Lift Command run logistic support ships. Cruisers and destroyers are all high-tech gas-turbine propelled vessels, costing hundreds of million of dollars each and demanding the skills of highly trained officers.
The LM 2500 gas turbine engine is used in all of the type platforms so that engineering training can be in one basic system, be it a simulator or a school ship. Combat systems are similar as sensors follow the Aegis design and the gun systems are based on the 5-inch/54-caliber weapon. These areas create a natural need for a school ship training environment. The Navy may have to give up some operational ship employment time for dedicated training services but the gain is enhanced training and a valid measure of training evaluation. The student is taught, shown how it works, and is tested by doing. This is a proven method of training with the return on investment being a combat-ready officer and capable mariner.
The use of an actual platform supplemented by a realistic shiphandling simulator as part of a specialized, highly concentrated school program will raise the professionalism bar of the Surface Warfare Officer. It is time to re-learn the lessons of the aviation and submarine communities. The Destroyer School concept must be re-established to train Surface Warfare Officers to be type specialists for on-board systems, to be highly trained, capable mariners, and to make the Surface Warfare Officer badge a symbol of pride and professionalism.
Captain Kaiss has had five afloat commands including a destroyer, cruiser, and the battleship Missouri (BB-63). He is an instructor at the San Diego shiphandling simulator facility.