‘So Much We Don’t Know’
(See D. Rumsfeld interview, pp. 22–25, March 2011 Proceedings)
Commander James Coogan, U.S. Navy Reserve (Retired)—Former Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld got off easy in the recent Proceedings interview. Rumsfeld used five versions of “I don’t know” during the short Q&A. He downplayed any suggestion that “speaking truth to power” had negative consequences for those who questioned the administration’s move toward war. And yet analysis shows that numerous senior military planners sent dissenting opinions and never even received a response. Some, like General Hugh Shelton, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, retired in disgust after Rumsfeld repeatedly ignored his advice.
Rumsfeld’s assessment of his relationship with General Eric Shinseki, chief of the U.S. Army, also doesn’t jibe with reality. When Paul Wolfowitz, Rumsfeld’s deputy, publicly rebuked the general’s assessment of the need for several hundred thousand troops to occupy postwar Iraq as “wildly off the mark,” the words undoubtedly came from the top. And Shinseki knew it. Despite the fact that the assessment was probably one of the few accurate predictions about how the war would go, Shinseki was subsequently marginalized by the Secretary of Defense as not being a team player.
Rumsfeld’s pattern of avoiding responsibility for anything that went wrong in Iraq (“It was the Turks,” “I warned there might not be any WMDs,” “the media got it wrong,” etc.) appeared as self-serving as was the convenient timing of the interview to boost his new book, Known and Unknown. It’s pretty clear the truth about Rumsfeld’s tenure at DOD will never be known unless he someday has to answer tougher questions.
Square Peg in a Round Hole
(See J. Murphy, p. 14, March 2011 Proceedings)
Captain James G. Burritt, U.S. Navy (Retired)—I particularly like Senior Chief Murphy’s column. He seems to be unaffected by the political correctness that engulfs much of the military these days. I can relate to his March article. I fought the ideal-weight issue with every physical. Fortunately, in my time, medical officers had the option of determining an “ideal weight” based on frame size and other characteristics. So I was able to complete a 24-year career. But others were not so fortunate. I recall an article some years ago about a young Marine, a bodybuilder, who was cashiered from the Corps because “his weight was not in proportion to his height.” Huh?
I can think of nothing more contrary to good order and discipline than for a service member to be tossed out because his or her particular physique does not fit some norm. It is even more egregious if the service member is performing well and looks good.
The only exception I take to Senior Chief Murphy’s thoughts on the subject is his suggestion that a waiver be granted by a flag officer. I reread Article 820 of Navy Regulations, and if I understand it, this seems to be an issue well within the purview of a commanding officer. Let the CO grant the waiver, if a waiver there must be.
We may be enjoying a favorable recruiting environment. But it hasn’t always been that way, and if history is any predictor, it won’t last forever. The current practice is not only unfair—it will hurt the Navy in the long run.
Chief Warrant Officer Chuck Berlemann, U.S. Navy (Retired)—Kudos to Senior Chief Murphy for a well-written article on a program that is harmful to Navy members and unit readiness. His description of how the Body Composition Assessment (BCA) discriminates against those who don’t fit the preferred body type is accurate. However, what bothers me most is that the program treats BCA failures exactly the same way we treated substance abusers when drug-testing was introduced in the 1980s. This is irrational!
I personally feel that the BCA program is being used to easily discard people because of the fact that we have a shrinking Navy. That is bad policy. If we need to eliminate people, the best solution is via quality-review boards using evaluations as guides. I have seen many high performers leave the Navy as a result of their Physical Fitness Assessment (PFA) tests. If their job requirements actually demanded low BCA or high PFA marks, they obviously wouldn’t have been high performers. The reason the testing and documentation requirements have become so draconian is that in the early years of the program, commanding officers tended to overlook their high performers who had trouble passing the tests. The COs simply didn’t want to lose the dependable personnel they relied on to make their units effective.
I would love to see someone at the Naval Postgraduate School do a study of the ill effects the Navy has actually felt as a result of personnel who have higher-than-allowable BCA. Then compare that to the cost of the loss of personnel whom we have taken the time and expense to train and who are, in all other respects, performing well.
It’s Not All About the Littorals
(See J. C. Moses, p. 10, February 2011 Proceedings)
Douglas Pauly—What a great article. The truth it speaks to is undeniable. It’s amazing how thoroughly words and terms—from “soccer moms” to “Where’s the Beef?”—become catchphrases ingrained in our collective psyche. Some go even further, acquiring a life of their own. They become not only buzzwords, but literally the only means for getting something accomplished, so long as they are invoked. The word “littorals” seems to have become the be-all/end-all for Navy acquisition and strategy purposes. If it doesn’t apply to the littorals, it must be obsolete, and thus, unworthy.
Remember a few years back when Six-Sigma was all the rage? Businesses (and the military) became awash in Six-Sigma “experts.” It was the latest greatest thing, and quite a few folks were able to toss their hats into that ring and become the go-to guys for the organizations involved. So how’d that all work out? How did those companies fare when the economy tanked? Did Six-Sigma save them from the ravages of the downturn? How about the military? Did Six-Sigma truly provide the techniques, management strategy, and metrics to maximize all aspects of military activity, in spite of things like, say, political realities? I think we all know the answer.
I can recall situations where a request to replace obsolete equipment, such as office computers, would be routinely rejected, but if one was successful in getting the tag “Six-Sigma project” applied, then the upgrade became a done deal.
This seems to be going on when it comes to the new surface ships the Navy wants. Calling them destroyers or cruisers or frigates doesn’t rate anymore, but imposing terms like “littorals-optimized” might result in the checkbooks having a better chance of popping open.
The Navy shouldn’t fall into that trap. The present Littoral Combat Ship designs represent truly awesome capabilities, but are they really necessary? Do they offer a leap in capability and potential relevant to the undeniably high cost? Do the missions really require such designs? And are these ships so specialized as to not be of much use in other warfare applications and scenarios, such as blue-water contingencies?
The high-low mix of the Navy during the later years of the Cold War served the nation quite well. The ships that accompanied and comprised the battle groups had both common and specialized missions. On the high end, Aegis-equipped cruisers and destroyers resulted in a tremendous leap in battle-management capabilities. Non-Aegis combat ships represented the low end. Such a mix permitted sufficient numbers of ships for the Navy’s tasking.
Those Cold War–era platforms were built for extended combat in potentially contaminated environments against a capable foe, and spread across the entire face of the world’s oceans. They were intended to go long distances and to carry large quantities of weapons and supplies.
So when it comes to addressing those missions and tasks that might entail “the littorals,” why reinvent the wheel? Ships still have to be able to get to a location and stay there if required, and do so while possibly fighting. Variants of those Cold War designs might serve the Navy’s purposes better than dedicated designs of limited utility.
How Are the Mighty Fallen
(See K. Eyer, pp. 20–24, January 2011; D. Dean, T. G. Martin, D. L. Rausch, and R. F. Dunn, pp. 6–7, 82, February 2011; and T. J. Klitgaard, D. Iskra, P. Gormley, and R. J. Brown, pp. 6–7, 84–86, March 2011 Proceedings)
Don McElfresh—Normally I read and enjoy Proceedings and move on. However, Commander Iskra’s letter to the editor raises a question. She states that “the Navy could not crew the ships without women.” Currently, the Navy has a reported personnel strength (active and reserve) of 430,400 men and women. This is approximately 0.14 percent of the U.S. population of 320 million. During World War II, with a U.S. population of around 100 million, Navy strength was 3,380,817, or 3.38 percent of the population. I know that number included WAVES, but the Fleet (a very large Fleet) was crewed entirely by males. What is the problem? Aren’t men signing up for the Navy anymore?
I have no ax to grind regarding women in the Fleet, but I do have a problem with the accuracy of questionable comments.
Fit to Fight!
(See M. R. Graham and S. Samimi, pp. 36–40, January 2011 Proceedings)
Master Chief Petty Officer Scott A. Laplante, U.S. Navy (Retired)—Captain Graham’s and Mr. Samini’s article was excellent. My first assignment upon graduating from “A” school in 1984 was to be a member of the commissioning crew of the USS Whidbey Island (LSD-41). I can tell you with firsthand knowledge that, being a completely new design from the keel up, the Whidbey Island underwent a lot of “growing pains” those first two years. The Navy had built a fine ship, but like any project of that magnitude, there are bound to be systems and processes that aren’t right the first go-around.
In July 2010 I had the pleasure of boarding the ship for first time since I had transferred in 1986. Knowing she had completed her mid-life modernization, I was very interested in seeing what improvements had been made.
Several of the ship’s officers and senior enlisted personnel were eager to compare notes once they found out I was a Plankowner. I spent about two hours talking with members of the engineering, deck, and combat-systems departments. I had brought pictures and drawings of the ship from the construction phase. Many comments along the lines of “that’s what used to be there” or “we didn’t know you had those problems” were heard. To be honest, my expectations of the material condition of ship were not very high, considering her years of service and the constant battle for working capital and spare parts. I take my hat off to the crew, the engineers, and yard personnel who have managed to maintain this quarter-century-old ship in such fine condition. If this is an indication of how the mid-life modernization program is going to go for the rest of the ships in the LSD-41/49 class, then the Navy will be able to chalk this up as one of its highly successful programs.
Tonkin: Setting the Record Straight
(See L. R. Vasey, pp. 66–71, August 2010; and R. R. McDonald, D. M. Showers, and C. E. McDowell, pp. 81–82, January 2011; L. R. Vasey, p. 85, February 2011; and T. Hayward, p. 87, March 2011 Proceedings)
Jim Treanor—As an officer at General Quarters in the USS Turner Joy’s (DD-951) combat information center on the night of 4 August 1964, I disagree with the critiques of Admiral Vasey’s August 2010 article by Admirals Showers and McDowell and Captain McDonald on the weight that should be accorded to the expressed doubts of Desoto Patrol Task Group commander Captain John J. Herrick, to the testimony of support aircraft pilots who didn’t see any PT boats, and to the reported absence of signal intercepts indicating North Vietnamese planning or execution of a 4 August attack on the destroyers Turner Joy and Maddox (DD-731).
While much has been made of Captain Herrick’s expressed 5 August uncertainty “about what had or had not happened the previous night,” what he stated in an official 7 August memorandum is unequivocal: “However, it is my opinion that certainly a PT boat action did take place.” “Certainly” is an unambiguous adverb. In a ship-to-ship communication shortly after the patrol exited the Tonkin Gulf, Herrick said directly to the Turner Joy’s captain, Commander Robert C. Barnhart Jr., “Thanks, Bob, you saved my ass out there!”—an equally unequivocal from-the-gut expression of certainty. He also recommended Barnhart for the Silver Star for the 4 August action.
Reports by air-support pilots that they didn’t see PTs in the gulf that night aren’t persuasive, either. In subsequent exercises pitting shipboard-controlled combat air patrol against Danang-based fast patrol craft, pilots quite frequently were unable to locate the targets in the dark, even when vectored directly overhead. Even with “the best seat in the house,” there was no guarantee a pilot could see a PT in the darkness.
National Security Administration historian Robert J. Hanyok’s declassified article on signals intercepts and the 4 August incident is not as conclusive as Admiral Vasey’s critics contend. Hanyok terms North Vietnamese tracking of the patrol “sporadic,” based on a 3 September 1964 NSA assessment characterizing North Vietnamese activity that day as “the virtual absence of trackings.” Apart from the incomprehensibility of North Vietnam’s apparent lack of interest in two U.S. destroyers—including one it had engaged in combat two days earlier—patrolling near its coastline, that assessment conflicts with the noted presence of shadowing Swatow-class patrol boats and the Turner Joy’s passive electronic-countermeasures intercepts of North Vietnamese radar emissions, including fire control lock-ons, that day. Whatever the external signals-intercept “evidence” on 4 August, it was obvious to those of us in CIC that we were being tracked.
Contending that “it’s time to consider this ‘case closed,’” Admiral Showers cites research conducted by the late NSA Deputy Director Lou Tordella as substantiating the “no-attack” finding. Contrast that with the December 2005 memo of Louis Giles, the NSA’s Director of Policy and Records: “Nevertheless, while Mr. Hanyok’s analysis of the available COMINT [communications intelligence] evidence is convincing on its own, the COMINT does not prove that an attack did or did not occur. Unlike the 2 August COMINT where an actual attack message was intercepted, circumstantial evidence and the absence of a 4 August COMINT attack message cannot conclusively prove there was not an attack.”
Giles’ cautionary note is well taken. It should also be seen as a clear indication that the Tonkin Gulf Incident case is far from closed.