Fix the Shipboard Air Intercept Controller Program
call sign of what is today known as the air intercept controller (AIC). AICs sit behind scopes and manipulate radars in order to identify air threats and maneuver fighters into advantageous attack positions. They are not to be confused with air traffic controllers (ATCs). ATCs keep things orderly; AICs create fireballs. Today’s shipboard AICs are selected from the ranks of operations specialists (OSs) at paygrades of E-5 and above.Many of the Vietnam-era Red Crown shipboard AICs were considered “exceptionally good” and were the controllers of choice for both Navy and Air Force fighters because they had significant work with Navy Fighter Weapon School (TopGun)-trained Navy pilots.1
After Vietnam, however, the quality of shipboard air intercept control seemed to deteriorate. The majority of shipboard AICs today is not what the naval-aviation community considers “trusted” controllers—that is, fighter pilots are often uncomfortable allowing them to control unless a supervisor is behind them who can make them parrot what needs to be said on the radio. Indeed, many of today’s shipboard AICs have a tendency to be very slow to respond to fighter requests or to properly communicate a “picture” to the fighters, and only a small percentage of skilled, forward-leaning OSs have kept pace with the latest tactics.
In our view, the OS shipboard AIC program is fundamentally broken. We attribute this to a lack of proximity to live training opportunities, the rise of increasingly advanced fighter and AIC tactics, and inadequate AIC schooling.
There is no question that an AIC—whether he or she is on a ship or an aircraft—is essential to a successful intercept. In 1975, air-to-air testing involving fighter aircraft and ground controllers demonstrated that effective air-intercept control always increased kill ratios. These tests also determined that when there is no AIC providing control, fighters were “completely ineffective.”2 Little has changed in this respect. Indeed, today’s fighter tactics require even more detailed AIC integration.
So what has changed since Vietnam? The sequence of words transmitted on the radio to achieve a good intercept became increasingly formal, with less use of “plain English,” while the number of words required tripled. In 1991, for example, one E-2C Hawkeye controller saved the day in Iraq by saying, “Bandits on your nose 15 miles!” Today, he would say, “Hammer one one, one two, target lead group threat ‘BRAA’ [bearing, range, altitude, azimuth] zero-one-zero, fifteen, fifteen thousand, flank southwest, hostile, MiG-21.” We went from three variables to nine variables in one radio transmission.
A Center for Naval Analyses (CNA) study in May 2002 examined how training opportunities suffered after Vietnam. First, the study noted that shipboard AICs were often not present for shore-based air-wing exercises early in the pre-deployment training cycle. Second, shipboard AICs did not get the opportunity to control during unit-level squadron training between major exercises. And third, these AICs, already behind for the first two reasons, were not always welcome to control when they were present because the aircrews perceive them as providing substandard control.3
Three other variables have contributed to the training proficiency problem. First, as noted here, learning the nuances of how to properly communicate on the radio—that is, the sequence and timing of words spoken during an intercept—is very difficult to learn. It is almost like speaking a new language. The words are in English, but the sentence structure is warped. It can take years to master a new language—certainly so without immersion.
Second, the number of timelines (based on the rapidly declining distance between bandits and friendlies) and the multiple caveats for when you can speak and when you cannot have increased three-fold over the past decade. This is a function of TopGun’s attempts to minimize the weaknesses of fighter aircraft systems and to counter an increasingly advanced enemy. It is well intentioned, but today’s controllers need to reference as many as three timelines during a single intercept. Moreover, the average training event consists of multiple intercepts occurring simultaneously.
Third, initial OS AIC training is not good. To illustrate this point, we can compare TopGun AIC student attrition across AIC communities (OS, E-2C, U.S. Air Force, and U.S. Marine Corps). OS AICs account for almost two thirds of all attrition. Less than half of OSs who enroll are able to graduate, and all show up less prepared than AICs from other communities.4 This can be attributed to either a lack of proficiency—air-intercept control is a perishable skill, after all—or poor initial training. It is probably both. Proficiency cannot be maintained if the junior AIC does not have all the prerequisite knowledge. The OS AIC Basic Course, for example, focuses training on the easiest fighter timelines and provides only ten simulator events for students to practice control. The curriculum is further stunted by a process that takes as many as 18 months to approve syllabus changes. What you get is a partially trained shipboard AIC referencing old tactics.
Fixing the Problem
The 2002 CNA study noted that existing training opportunities are sufficient to train every operational shipboard AIC. From March 2012 to March 2013, Carrier Air Wing (CVW) 8 sought to validate this by inviting 19 OS AICs to control 180 supervised air-to-air events out of Naval Air Station (NAS) Oceana and NAS Key West. These 19 achieved several qualification upgrades, and many became recognized faces in fighter ready rooms. However, only four of the 19 reached the “trusted” level desired.
The OS AIC dilemma can only be solved through a holistic approach that addresses three core areas: 1) the baseline aptitude of a potential controller; 2) the day-to-day proficiency of the controller; and 3) the difficulty of the tactics.
To address aptitude, the Navy needs to overhaul the criteria to achieve the OS AIC Navy Enlisted Classification Code by raising testing and academic standards at the school houses, weeding out underachievers, and setting very high minimum Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery requirements.
A more radical option would be to eliminate OS AICs altogether in favor of commissioned officers. We need only look at the Royal Navy or Royal Australian Navy whose all-officer surface controllers have a reputation for excellence.
As for proficiency, one option is to locate pools of elite OS AICs at NAS Oceana and NAS Lemoore, the two key Navy fighter concentration bases. These two pools would have regular access to unit-level live training events and greater opportunities to brief and debrief with fighters. This option was simulated by CVW-8 (and produced mediocre results), but it is still much better than the present construct. These pools would also benefit independent deployers or forward-deployed ballistic-missile-defense ships that rarely participate in air-to-air events.
TopGun can also contribute by overhauling AIC tactics through the creation of a single air-to-air AIC timeline or by reducing the various caveats that determine when a controller can or cannot speak on the radio. It needs to be much easier. We acknowledge that “simplicity” is not a realistic principle in modern warfare, given the escalating capabilities of both enemy and friendly aircraft, but we feel that “simplification” is an ideal for which we should never stop striving.
The bottom line is that the Navy needs to experiment with creative solutions to the shipboard AIC dilemma. This is not just a naval aviation problem; it is a whole-Navy problem requiring cross-community cooperation at the highest levels. We need our shipboard AICs to speak confidently and accurately on the radio right now.
1. Marshall L. Michel III, Clashes: Air Combat over North Vietnam 1965-1972 (Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press, 1997).
2. Harold J. Brown, Integration of Ground Control Intercept Controller Training with Fighter Aircrew Air Combat Tactics Training, Air Command and Staff College Research Report, Maxwell Air Force Base, May 1976.
3. Ann Miller, “Tactical Experience, Supervision, Quality of Control, and Manning for Shipboard Air Intercept Controllers,” Center for Naval Analyses, May 2002.
4. Interview with LT Matthew Lukevics, TopGun instructor, 25 March 2013 and 23 July 2013.
Commander Dees is the executive officer of VAW-124.
Lieutenants Williams and Meyer are Hawkeye weapons and tactics instructors.
Considering the Olmsted Scholar Program
By Lieutenant J. D. Kristenson, and Lieutenant Commander Peter Mallory, U.S. Navy
At the end of World War II, Army Major General George Olmsted’s interactions with Chinese and Japanese officials left him concerned that American military leaders suffered from a lack of exposure and sensitivity to foreign cultures. This ultimately inspired him to establish the George Olmsted Foundation and the Olmsted Scholar Program. Since 1959, the George and Carol Olmsted Foundation has annually offered competitively selected career line officers from each branch of the military the chance to embark on a unique educational opportunity.
The Olmsted scholarship remains steadfast to its founding vision of broadening military line officers in preparation for senior leadership. The three main goals of the program have remained unchanged for over 50 years: obtain proficiency in a foreign language, immerse completely into the culture of a foreign country, and work toward a master’s degree from a foreign university. Today, more than 50 scholars are fully engaged abroad. The program starts with full-time language training, either at the Defense Language Institute or through one of an increasing number of in-country immersion language training options.
Career-oriented officers will have an experience like no other as a scholarship recipient. As students daily interact in a different culture with diverse people in a foreign language, they also develop valuable leadership skills. Americans are often fortunate to be able to communicate freely in English while abroad. However, learning a foreign language will put one in the 9 percent of Americans who are bilingual. When one engages someone in his or her native language, it opens the doors to a culture and allows an opportunity for authentic relationships to form.
As an Olmsted scholar, officers get a different view of the Navy, our military, and our country through the eyes of our allies, friends, and potential adversaries. This feature was the foundation of Lieutenant Commander Peter Mallory’s experience.
“While attending the Institute for Advanced European Studies in Strasbourg, France, I was fortunate enough to be in a master’s program with students from throughout Europe,” he said. “Many of the students were headed for the upper echelons of French society, while some were born and raised behind the iron curtain or considered immigrants in a new host country. It was amazing to listen and absorb their ideas of international relations based on their view of the world, and we discussed it all in French. After my time in Strasbourg, it became clear that a global vision and an inclusive way to communicate are critical in addressing our security challenges.”
Lieutenant J. D. Kristenson had a similar experience in China. “During my Olmsted assignment, I was able to travel broadly and better understand the roles of both China and the United States in a changing world,” he said.
Instability in one part of the world threatens the security of another. With the inevitable financial-resource constraints on the capabilities and reach of our armed forces, we will increasingly have to rely on international cooperation to counter transnational threats. Just as retired Admiral James Stavridis, former Supreme Allied Commander Europe, describes NATO as a bridge that links the United States with Europe and beyond, the Olmsted scholar is another way to increase connections between the United States and our partner countries.
When sailors, Marines, soldiers, and airmen arrive on foreign soil, no matter the role, we do so as plenipotentiaries in the name of security for the United States and our allies. Representing the DOD abroad is a privilege and offers an exceptional avenue of professional development. The Olmsted scholar often becomes the unofficial link between the U.S. military and a foreign country because he or she is immersed in the culture, language, and daily life of the host nation. Lieutenant Commander Mallory’s experience in France, like those of other Olmsted scholars, offered him various opportunities to develop relationships. “Whether it was discussing campaign finance in a political science class or talking naval power with French flag and general officers during a NATO ceremony, I was continuously engaged on all levels,” he said. This savoir-faire broadens the perspectives of young officers and prepares them for significant roles in the Navy.
While dependent on location and availability, the master’s degree is designed to be oriented toward the fields of political science or international affairs. Nothing offers a better understanding of a country’s political, social, or security environment than undertaking graduate studies at a foreign university. The academic environment is perfect for an open exchange of ideas away from the influence of mass media. Additionally, Olmsted scholars will likely find themselves to be the first American military officer that his or her classmates will ever meet, and these peer-to-peer relationships are the foundation that undergirds the future of U.S. alliances. Through attending China’s top university, Lieutenant Kristenson was able to see firsthand the complexities, subtleties, and contradictions of an emerging China. Most important, in-country study at the graduate level allows military officers to understand their host countries’ historical views and contemporary approaches to international affairs.
The most rewarding aspect of the Olmsted Scholar Program is cultural immersion. Scholars are placed in challenging environments, have to live off the local economy, and must use their language skills daily to build relationships and deepen their understanding of their host country and region. This is best accomplished by traveling and meeting people in the country and greater region. While driving through France each summer with his wife, Lieutenant Commander Mallory immersed himself in the French way of life. “Visiting each unique corner of France showed us that their country is just as varied as ours. Each region has its own traditions, cuisines, historical interpretations, and, in some cases, even its own language. Experiencing this regional diversity enriched our cultural understanding of the country as a whole,” he said. Similarly, Lieutenant Kristenson and his wife were able to join three other Olmsted scholars in a Habitat for Humanity build in rural China. Experiences like these distinguish the Olmsted Scholar Program from other graduate education opportunities.
As we have slowly learned through the security challenges of the 21st century, each country is fundamentally different and has its own political and security goals. The key to building relationships, strengthening our partnerships abroad, and addressing our own security challenges is through informed engagement with a foreign culture. The knowledge, skills, and experiences provided by the Olmsted Scholar Program prepare promising officers to make informed decisions as senior leaders that will enhance U.S. security relationships around the world. The Olmsted Foundation is clear in its objective, desiring for “scholars to get back into their operational track and leverage the experience to become better commanders and leaders.”
The Olmsted Scholar Program is a truly life-changing and valuable opportunity. It has been of immeasurable benefit to the authors, and we encourage interested applicants to visit the website. Additionally, senior commanders should be aware of this program when counseling junior officers on their career options.
Lieutenant Kristenson is a surface warfare officer and 2009 Olmsted scholar (Beijing, China—Tsinghua University). He is the operations officer on USS Forrest Sherman (DDG-98).
The Boundaries of Chaplain Confidentiality
“A woman was in the room of her sick child when she was visited by a civilian hospital chaplain. She told the chaplain a number of things about herself and her family, including the fact that she was pregnant. The following day she was taken aback when a nurse approached her and inquired about her pregnancy. It turned out that much of what she had discussed with the chaplain had been written down in her child’s medical chart . . . .”1
Historically, members of the clergy have had a moral obligation to maintain the confidentiality of their congregants. In recent years, however, an increased number of lawsuits have been filed against pastors for invasion of privacy arising out of the disclosure of confidential information. The result of these suits has brought recognition that the obligation to maintain confidentiality is not only a moral issue, but also often a legal one.2
If civilians expect their conversations with clergy to be confidential, this presumption is even greater within the military community, where practices like mandatory drug testing and gate vehicle searches contribute to a greater sensitivity toward privacy. While religious denominations have their own regulations that guide their clergy in regard to information shared under different circumstances, various instructions, regulations, and the Manual for Courts-Martial contain statutes that protect the confidentiality of communications with military chaplains.
Protecting Our Privileged Position
The legal protection offered by civilian legal systems and the military system differs considerably. Although military members as citizens of the United States are both subject to and benefit from federal and state laws, they are also subject to the Uniform Code of Military Justice and other specific regulations. In certain instances involving communications, military laws and regulations take precedence over civilian laws.
According to the Military Rules of Evidence 503(b) (2), in order for a communication to be considered privileged, three criteria must be met:
• It must be made “either as a formal act of religion or a matter of conscience.”
• The communication must be made to a chaplain in his or her role as chaplain or to his/her assistant in an official capacity.
• It is the intent of the communicator that the information be confidential.
It is clear that it is the intent of the person making the communication and not that of the chaplain that is important. It is also clear that the applicability of the privilege—that is, whether or not the communication is to be considered confidential—is determined by the intention of the party and not the place where the communication takes place (e.g., chaplain’s office, hospital room, on board ship, or in the field).
Despite clear policies and regulations upholding confidentiality on the part of military chaplains, in a recent 2013 poll of naval personnel, 63 percent of 5,049 respondents did not believe their communications with chaplains were confidential, and 65 percent of 2,895 respondents erroneously believed that Navy chaplains were required to report certain matters to the command.3
Historical Perspective
Before looking specifically at the practice of military chaplains making entries into patients’ medical records, it would be helpful to look at how this practice has evolved in recent history.
Hospital chaplaincy as a distinct profession in the United States over the past 20 to 30 years has assumed a more proactive stance toward patients, healthcare professionals, and healthcare facilities. Unlike in the past, when patients generally received pastoral visits from clergy representing specific faith groups, today there is a professional cadre of certified hospital chaplains who are members of the healthcare team complete. These chaplains have access to patients’ medical records in order to gather information and make notations of their own.
While strides have been made to integrate chaplains more fully into the healthcare system, some medical ethicists consider charting (making notations in patients’ medical records) accessible to others by this specialized chaplaincy as “disquieting” and suggest a need to reassess professional commitments “to respect and protect the bio-psycho-social integrity of patients.”4 The evolution of hospital chaplaincy as a profession distinct from congregational-based ministry has also raised concern among some members of the clergy who view practices like charting as a threat to confidentiality that has been a cornerstone of their ministry.
Medical Records and Confidentiality
Although Navy Bureau of Medicine and Surgery (BUMED) Instruction 1730.2A attempts to balance the hospital’s need for clinical information and the patient’s need for confidential care, paragraph 12b of the Instruction reads: “Patients should be advised that certain information communicated to the chaplain may be shared with other members of the treatment team or in a clinical supervisory session unless the patient specifically requests that such information remain in confidence with the chaplain.”
If military patients presume that what they discuss with hospital chaplains “may be shared” with others unless they “specifically request that such information remain in confidence,” might these same service members be misled to believe that this also applies to what they share with chaplains outside of medical facilities? Might these same service men and women be led to question that what they discuss with their unit chaplains might be shared with their command unless they “specifically request that such information remain in confidence?”
Rather than telling patients their communications with chaplains may be shared with others unless they “specifically” request that such information remain confidential, it would be more in keeping with Secretary of the Navy Instruction (SECNAVINST) 1730.9 (“Confidential Communications to Chaplains”) to revise the BUMED Instruction to read, “Information shared with chaplains is presumed confidential unless the patient specifically requests the chaplain share certain information with other members of the medical team.”
The fact that many patients may be suffering from excessive physical or emotional pain may affect not only their ability to make informed decisions regarding disclosure, but also their capacity “to distinguish confidential communications from general pastoral care interventions” as noted in the current BUMED instruction.
Hospital Spiritual Assessments
A number of military hospital chaplains today are attempting to make spiritual assessments of a patient’s cultural and religious beliefs or practices, the results of which are often recorded in the patient’s medical record. Such a practice can be problematic in the military where the privacy of personnel and their family members is protected as in the case of SECNAVINST 1730.9, paragraph 4 (h):
Records or notes compiled by a chaplain in his/her counseling duties are considered “work product” and confidential. As such, chaplains must safeguard any such records, in whatever medium or format, containing confidential communication. When no longer needed, these work products will be destroyed.
Unlike the “notes” a chaplain may take in his/her office that are later destroyed, the notes a hospital chaplain may chart in the process of undertaking a spiritual assessment remain a part of the patient’s medical record even after the patient is discharged. Chaplains who are compelled by supervisors or hospital administrators to justify their role or “competency” by charting spiritual assessments may potentially weaken the trust that needs to exist between clergy and the people to whom they minister. Those who also use the system of charting for professional validation, credentialing, or to justify employment, potentially redefine the pastoral visit from selfless to self-serving. Furthermore, it has yet to be established if medical healthcare teams significantly benefit from such a highly subjective intake that is primarily helpful to the patient.
One also might note that spiritual care by the chaplain is not so much an “intervention” (as noted in BUMEDINST 1730.2A, paragraph 13a), or something to “fix,” but more of a relational mode of being. The spiritual life is a relational life involving how the patient relates to others and how she or he understands their current circumstances in the context of a personal belief system. Because hospital chaplains rarely have long-term relationships with patients who either are discharged or die, these assessments and interventions may not prove to be the truest reflection of the individual in question.
The role a chaplain plays in the healthcare community cannot be underestimated. While metrics are increasingly utilized within medical institutions as a method for assessing the value and necessity of professional positions and the number of billets, there are a host of intangible benefits a chaplain brings to patient visitation that can never be measured by practices like charting alone.
Service members and their families deserve the highest assurance that their conversations will be honored and guarded. Military chaplains must vigilantly insure their charting practices do not “cross the line” lest they surrender this sacred role that has been entrusted to them for over two centuries of U.S. naval history.
1. Jami Briton, “Hospital Chaplains Not Required to Keep Information Private,” KCRG-TV9 News Report (15 April 2010).
2. David O. Middlebrook, “Pastoral Confidentiality: An Ethical and Legal Responsibility,” Enrichment Journal (Spring 2010).
3. Lifelink Newsletter, Vol. 2, Issue 6, OPNAV N171, June 2013.
4. Roberta Springer Loewy and Erich H. Loewy, “Healthcare and the Hospital Chaplain,” Medscape General Medicine (14 March 2007).