Honor Bound: Guarding Detainees at Guantanamo Bay
(See T. Beall, pp. 54–56, December 2020)
Captain Beall’s description of detainees at Guantanamo—“Most were held on dubious pretexts under a detention regime of doubtful legality”—will ring familiar to many who served as guards at Abu Ghraib, Iraq, including this former soldier. The challenges faced by the soldiers and sailors in both places, as well as the ethical dilemmas and working conditions that exacerbated the difficulties of guarding prisoners in extreme environments, deserve additional attention from policy makers, expeditionary planners, and military lawyers.
Even before the scandal broke, many a night around fires of Abu Ghraib’s tent-city Ganci Compound (where between 600 and 800 detainees were housed)—and in between almost daily mortar and rocket attacks—our guard force discussions turned to how important it was to treat the detainees with dignity and respect. But that is not the commonly known legacy of Abu Ghraib.
Military police at Abu Ghraib were trained to work in prisoner-of-war (POW) camps subject to the Geneva Conventions. Soldiers at Abu Ghraib were confronted not with enemy POWs, but detainees whose status was unknown and could not be discerned. Leaders provided scant explanation of what rules applied. One night, a company commander climbed into my tower and commented, “You know, they’re subject to different rules than the Geneva Conventions.” When asked what those rules were, he responded, “We’re working on that.”
U.S. actions related to the capture and continued detention of nonstate actors demand more scrutiny. Many years after being a tower rat at Abu Ghraib, having since commissioned as a naval officer, I found myself once again dealing with questions of the camps’ legality and constitutionality as a special investigator for the Military Commission Defense Organization.
Even as the nation shifts its focus toward peer conflict, nonstate actors will likely continue to be captured and detained under a variety of circumstances. Ignoring a detainee’s human rights because the individual is not a lawful combatant will continue to concern many Americans, not to mention our partners around the world. Recall the knee-jerk detention of thousands of Americans of Japanese ancestry following Pearl Harbor.
Captain Beall’s article rightly calls attention to the difficulty of remaining honor bound as individuals, as a service, and as a nation when dealing with non-POW detainees, even those we view as abhorrent. To do otherwise is un-American.
—LCDR Joe Martin, USN (Ret.)
The Navy Needs Hybrid Crews for Warships
(See W. Heath, online, December 2020)
Mr. Heath’s concept of placing civilian merchant mariners on board Ticonderoga-class cruisers is substantially different from the current use of them on board auxiliary vessels or as part of hybrid crews on warships such as the Lewis B. Puller–class expeditionary sea bases. Merchant mariners are complementary to the Navy and not interchangeable with Navy sailors. They provide a specific function and have done so for decades.
In 1899, Secretary of the Navy John Long outfitted the collier USS Alexander with a civilian crew to deliver coal to the Philippines. By 1917, most of the Navy’s fuel ships had civilian crews. When the United States entered World War I, the Navy militarized the crews, as it did not want to deal with civilian mariners on ships with a direct fleet mission.
In 1942, Vice Chief of Naval Operations Admiral Frederick Horne attempted to have all merchant ships militarized and operate under the Navy, but President Franklin D. Roosevelt balked at that, instead creating the War Shipping Administration under Emory S. Land and the Maritime Commission. In 1949, the Navy fought against taking over the Army Transport Service and merging it with the Naval Transportation Service and civilian-run OP-422 Tanker and Petroleum Division to create the Military Sea Transportation Service, forerunner of Military Sealift Command (MSC).
The Navy initiated Charger Log in 1972 because the service had an issue with retention and personnel and needed to get crews on combatants. The hope was to free the crews on shuttle ships, such as the USS Taluga (AO-63), which shuttled fuel from bases to forward operating replenishment vessels. After Desert Shield, the Navy, MSC, and the Center for Naval Analyses did a study to determine whether to transfer all the auxiliaries to the Navy. A 1997 General Accounting Office report summarized these findings, and the transfer of auxiliaries to MSC began. (It was completed in 2010.) Now MSC operates direct fleet support and shuttle ships, without enough of either.
Concurrently, the end of the differential subsidies to shippers and the rise of open ship registries witnessed the decline of the U.S. Merchant Marine from 1,000 ships in 1965 to half that number in 1975, to half again in 2000, to only 183 ships today. At the same time, MSC mariners crew and operate 20 percent of the 300 ships in the Navy’s battle force but are not provided any role in leadership of the organization and are treated as second-class by the Navy—for proof, look up the “gangway up” COVID-19 order for MSC.
In World War II, merchant mariners served alongside sailors—and lost 733 ships and 9,500 mariners. They were promised to be treated as equals after the war but were denied veteran benefits until 1988. While there may be a role for mariners in assisting deck and engine certifications on board Navy ships, MSC mariners should not be replacements for sailors on board combatants. What happens when a ship is sunk or damaged? What happens to a mariner who is killed or wounded?
It sounds like more of a naval personnel issue than a mariner one.
—Salvatore R. Mercogliano
The author is entirely too dismissive of the moral questions inherent in his proposal. Military personnel are just that—military. A warship is a combat system; it does not perform as a disparate collection of morally separate operating functions, but instead achieves its missions via the cooperation of the whole.
The author tries to draw a distinction between “combat” and “noncombat” functions on board, but in any realistically considered moral sense, no such difference exists. Tasking civilians on warships with directly supporting the person pulling the trigger simply makes them mercenaries and, since they belong to no military service and have sworn no oath, part of an illegal militia committing murder. Manning a combatant is morally and qualitatively different from manning a noncombatant. In the latter case, the only military action likely to be undertaken would be defensive—shooting down an attacking aircraft, for example.
The author states that the civilians would be protected under the Geneva Conventions; saying this is so does not make it so in the eyes of other nations. Throughout history, civilians engaging in combat against organized military forces have been hanged as criminals, even by Western democracies, including the United States. A mixed crew lost in battle might see its civilian members hanged as pirates.
Maybe putting civilian mariners on board combatants would save money. I don’t know. What I do know is that it is immoral—we have a military for a reason.
—Nikki Burgess, USN 1981–91
Spies in our Midst
(See J. Landreth, pp. 30–35,
December 2020)
Lieutenant Commander Landreth’s treatment of the systems engineering needs for modeling and requirements development was great. It made this very old and retired systems engineer wish he were much younger and still practicing his civilian profession.
—LCDR John W. Fothergill Jr., USNR (Ret.)
Reflections on the Loss of the Thresher
(See J. Geurts, pp. 54–55, September 2020; N. Thunman, p. 9, November 2020;
B. Gabbert, p. 88, and N. Polmar, p. 88, December 2020)
My father, retired Captain
Arthur Gilmore, was on board the Trieste for two dives as a lieutenant commander in 1963, including the dive that recovered the pipe section that is in the Navy Museum. With the recent death of Captain George Martin, I believe my dad is the last living member of the Trieste divers of the USS Thresher (SSN-593) search team.
—Mike Gilmore
Embrace Cognitive Diversity
(See R. Foote, pp. 12–13, December 2020)
I strongly appreciate Lieutenant Commander Foote’s call for greater appreciation for cognitive diversity. She is certainly right that the Golden Rule, while well-intentioned, inhibits the ability to recruit people whose value is not always apparent.
The military would do well to follow her advice. However, as it does so, I hope it will take care not to be seen as lowering standards or compromising the ability of service members to do their jobs. If they can recruit a diverse (along many dimensions) pool of recruits without making public the fact that they are deliberately doing so, I believe military diversification efforts will face less skepticism and criticism. I believe much of the objection to diversification efforts in many parts of society comes not from diversity itself, but from organizations boasting about it.
—Michael D. Purzycki
The Tooth Shall Set You Free: Desaturate the Hospital Corpsman Rating
(See M. Clutter, pp. 24–25, September 2020)
Hospital Corpsman (HM) Clutter is exactly right about splitting dental technicians from the HM rate, except he does not go far enough.
The original merger process is illuminated by Force Master Chief Jacqueline DiRosa’s words: “Our most important consideration throughout this whole merger process is the professional development and career enhancement of each and every member of the Hospital Corps.”
I am a former infantryman as well as a registered nurse with more than 30 years’ experience. I submit that patient well-being is far more important than “career enhancement.” Career enhancement is important, though, and should be done better.
Dental is not the only specialty that should be split from the hospital corpsman. I cannot imagine being expected to be competent in everything from direct patient care to biomedical repair technician to operating room scrub tech. The Army uses 23 separate military occupational specialty (MOS) jobs within MOS 68, and these soldiers are well-qualified specialists.
The Navy could have a small common core of training but then improve specialist training. The Navy used to have three aviation metalsmith (AM) rates: AM(S) (structures), AM(H) (hydraulics), and AM(E) (safety equipment). Something similar could be done within health-care rates. Break them into related areas that allow better focus.
I have worked with many good HMs. But, from the viewpoint of civilian employers, they know both too much and too little. They have been trained in many things, but they are not considered masters of any. HMs joining the Department of Veterans Affairs where I worked could qualify to work as nothing more than a civilian nursing assistant. Army MOS 68s hew much closer to civilian standards for their comparable jobs.
The Navy should look at its health care in totality, to improve patient care first, then to the training and futures of Navy personnel.
—LTC Dennis Morehouse, RN, USA (Ret.)
Joint Training for Air Operations in Maritime Surface Warfare
(See A. Willing, pp. 79–81, December 2020)
I share Lieutenant Commander Willing’s concerns for joint readiness against the Iranian fast-attack craft threat. I worry that the Navy as a whole is not taking this particular threat as seriously as it should. Although a solid plan exists to fight it and defend the Arabian Gulf, it requires constant training and trust between services. Joint leaders from the strategic to the tactical levels must understand the plan.
Current large-scale predeployment training seems to reflect what the Navy is currently doing in theater rather than what might be expected. If the Navy wants joint air power for maritime surface warfare, it must constantly demonstrate its ability to control and employ joint air assets. Bottom line—the Air Force is expecting the Navy to lead the surface fight, and it will execute the plan regardless of whether the Navy is prepared.
Furthermore, while the bulk of naval predeployment training rightly focuses on conflict with great powers in the Pacific, it often hand-waves about preparation for conflict in the Arabian Gulf. The Gulf is seen as a second-tier, junior varsity fight. Yet in the past five years in that theater, the Navy has experienced air-to-air combat, active missile defense, and detainment of its sailors.
I agree that “joint unit-level” training is the bottom-up approach required by our current state of readiness. If senior planners in theater think large exercises are the only way forward, the unit-level audience will never come close to the training or proficiency necessary. Leaders at the tactical level have vested interest in ensuring their own preparation and creative approaches. Joint planners and staffs just need to encourage and empower them.
Lieutenant Commander Willing seems to be looking for a way around operational-level bureaucracy. History is replete with examples where unity of effort had to come from cooperation at the lowest levels, rather than the highest.
—LCDR Matt Quintero, USN
Going to War with China? Ignore Corbett. Dust Off Mahan!
(See M. Suarez, pp. 48–53, December 2020, and J. O’Brasky, p. 9, January 2021)
First Lieutenant Suarez’s analysis is excellent. However, I caution against dismissing Sir Julian Corbett altogether. One of Corbett’s major contributions to naval history and strategy is the promotion of a process of using a critical eye to make logical, fact-driven decisions based on sound historical study. Corbett himself would likely advise you not to follow his specific strategic advice but instead to continue to study and develop the best possible strategy in today’s environment.
As a side note, I recommend the Naval Institute Press’s “21st Century Foundations” book series to all readers looking to dive deeper into this topic. It does a great job of compressing a variety of strategic leaders’ writings and has a book each on Corbett and Mahan.
—LCDR David S. Radin, USCG
(See C. Campbell, pp. 12–13, October 2020)
The Burden of a Black Naval Officer
(See D. Walker, online, June 2020)
Mr. Campbell’s article is a great report of historical accomplishments of the many black American trailblazers who have worn the uniform of naval officers and of his personal career. However, it attempts to take a gray issue—the pace and trend of diversity and inclusion in the military—and make it black and white.
Specifically: “Black officers do not carry a burden” misses the point. As he wrote, “What we have is a responsibility to honor the service of all warriors and, in particular, African Americans who have paid the high price for inclusion.” This actually is a good example of the burden.
Black naval officers—in 2020—still work harder for the same respect, out of necessity, not by choice. This is no different than in 1990, 1965, 1950, 1942, 1914, 1898, 1861, 1812, or 1775. A black American who seeks a commission in the armed forces carries the weight of a culturally shared experience of being black in the United States. They must act as if they are singularly responsible for how blacks will be perceived in the service in terms of the capacity, aptitude, and emotional restraint to perform, and regardless of their socioeconomic upbringing or childhood circumstances, the institution through which they commissioned, or the service designator they selected. That burden is why I wrote the article.
It may be true, in Mr. Campbell’s words, that the Navy is “less racist and sexist today,” but “less” is not an acceptable measure. In 2020, we should be at the point where we can say the Navy is not racist and not sexist. It’s not there yet. Is it better? An emphatic yes! That’s not up for debate. But just as our service demands the very best of us, we should be able to expect the very best of it.
That means dealing with the inclusion and diversity “gray zone.” In there sits the “underlying culture of the United States,” from which we unwittingly recruit to fill a portion of our ranks with those who have not progressed.
Black officers accept the responsibility and burden to serve and honor those who have come before us. But how much longer must we put our heads down, work harder, and hope success and achievement will happen simply because of our character and performance?
—CDR Desmond Walker, USN
The Revolt of the Admirals and Today’s Battle Over the Defense Budget
(See C. Nelson, pp. 68–71, September 2020)
Commander Nelson rightly points out that 1949’s so-called Revolt of the Admirals has contemporary relevance. However, interpretations of events have become distorted. Naval history cannot be viewed in a vacuum, nor 1949 in isolation. The problem with today’s interpretation lies in the “revolting” name itself.
Media consultants hired by the Department of the Air Force created the phrase to attempt to convince civilian leaders that the Department of the Navy was misleading the public and decision-makers about the capabilities of naval aviation. Army and Air Force proponents agreed that naval aviation and the Marine Corps were integral to U.S. sea power, legally defined in the National Security Act of 1947.
The actions of Captain Arleigh Burke and the naval staff in 1949 were in response not just to debates over military aviation but more fundamental questions that were designed to usurp the Navy’s role within national defense. Their actions and the events that followed were entirely in keeping with U.S. traditions of civilian oversight, where final arbitration and responsibility for scrutinizing planning for national defense lies with Congress. Accusations that Captain Burke acted inappropriately should be rejected.
After 1945, Secretary of the Navy James Forrestal, Chief of Naval Operations Ernest King, and Burke—among others—believed the Navy needed a “dose of reality” over the challenges to the Navy’s postwar existence. Their concerns were proved correct in 1949.
The 1949 events shaped Burke’s tenure as Chief of Naval Operations between 1955 and 1961, as he sought to embed into the culture that sea power was not a given and a continental nation chooses it—a pertinent point to this day. Burke helped reform a defense organization by arguing that it was not “revolt or heresy” to communicate the naval message when questioned during civilian oversight.
Use of the term “revolt” remains damaging and misleading, embraces a narrow narrative based on propaganda, and discourages understanding of the facts of the events. The fight in 1949 should be understood for what it was: part of the broader transformative defense unification process, which remains unfinished business.
—James W. E. Smith, Ph.D. candidate, Department of War Studies, King’s College London
(See A. Cheng, pp. 34–37, November 2020)
I would make one recommendation regarding Sergeant Cheng’s suggested improvements to enlisted professional military education in the area of academics. In addition to the courses he has already listed, at least one course in the field of international relations should be added. Given the arena in which the Sea Services find themselves operating, it would be quite useful for enlisted leaders at all levels to possess a high-level understanding of how nations interact.
My advanced degree is in this field, and the course materials have been quite useful to understanding the application of naval power.
—SCPO Paul H. Sayles, USN (Ret.)
(See E. Limpacher and W. Mills, pp. 29–33, November 2020, and R. Estrada, p. 9, January 2021)
Logistical support for Marine Corps operations now depends on the Navy’s fleet of large (and expensive) L-class amphibious ships that would “not survive in a peer fight” and, like all our ships, must remain hundreds of miles off any contested shore because of the danger of antiship missiles.
The article calls for a clandestine logistics capability that would allow the United States to sustain forces operating inside an adversary’s weapons engagement zone (WEZ). It then suggests systems that would be “clandestine”: large amphibious aircraft (which cannot carry much cargo and can hardly remain clandestine) and small boats, such as the Mk VI patrol boat, which would link with fleet logistics ships outside of the WEZ. These, however, would be at least 100 miles from shore, and patrol boats could not carry much cargo or be seaworthy enough to be reliable connectors with bluewater ships. Finally, the authors suggest low-profile vessels, semisubmerged with only a cockpit and snorkel above water. These, however, would be quite visible from the air and would present a very large, slow target for any submarine’s sonar.
The solution is an expeditionary ship, protected by extensive top-quality armor plate and other defenses, so as to render it virtually unsinkable. It would be built within a supertanker hull, with an enormous cargo and fuel capacity. It could, for example, store up to 145,000 tons of fuel and logistic support items for expeditionary bases. It could bring Marines safely to shore in a contested area and then remain to provide air, gunfire, medical, and logistical support. Since its construction would begin on an already built hull, it should take far less time than a ship built from the keel up.
—William L. Stearman, author, An American Adventure from Early Aviation through Three Wars to the White House (Naval Institute Press, 2012)
