Naval communications are vital connecting nerves—among ships, squadrons, fleets, shore-to-sea and sea-to-shore, sea, air, and space—in times of peace, crisis, and war. Through the decades, Naval Institute authors have contributed to naval communications, their evolution, problems, and progress. Rear Admiral Stephen B. Luce was one of the first to raise the issue in Proceedings, discussing the use of flag signals in “On the Study of Naval History (Grand Tactics),” in April 1887.
There are, besides the order of battle, various other orders and movements—such as chasing an enemy’s fleet; escaping from a superior force; protecting a convoy; . . . etc., etc.
These several orders, or formations, . . . were laid down in the Signal Book; and the methods of changing from one order to another were fully prescribed, a diagram accompanying each evolutionary signal number, showing the positions and movements of each ship. Thus, when, in 1790, Admiral Lord Howe rearranged the Signal Book of the English Navy, he introduced “instructions for the conduct of the fleet in the execution of the principal evolutions. . . . Howe not only revised and greatly improved the Signal Book of the English Navy, including the Code of Tactical Signals, but [was] indefatigable in the exercising of the fleet under his command in tactical evolutions, and the transmitting of orders by signals.
By the end of the 18th century, the U.S. Navy had built its own signals system adapted from that of the British.
Twelve years later, Lieutenant Richard Wainwright authored “Naval Coast Signals,” highlighting the importance of communication in defense of the U.S. coasts.
With fortifications, we shall always need stations from which the movements of the enemy and the number and character of the vessels can be reported. And when we have a defending fleet, we shall need, in addition, to be able to convey such information to our fleet. . . .
An ideal system of transmitting intelligence coastwise and to seaward during a naval war would be one in which observation stations, connected by telegraph lines, were established at certain intervals along the coast: at each station, trained men with the necessary instruments for receiving and sending visual signals; at certain of these stations, pigeon-lofts for furnishing pigeons to lookout vessels and receiving from them reports, and also for dispatching birds with information to the outside stations of the fleet; also lofts at such stations as . . . to maintain communication when the lines are cut. . . . If the enemy’s fleet break up into detachments, the course of each will be known to the admiral commanding the defense, and he can oppose the enemy with similar detachments, or keep his fleet together and overwhelm the smaller bodies with his united force.
Naval Academy Assistant Professor Henri Marion demonstrated particular interest in the use of homing pigeons and contributed several pieces to Proceedings, including an April 1891 Professional Note, “Naval Messenger Pigeon Service,” on their use in foreign navies.
The recent maneuvers of the French squadron of evolution at Toulon have again demonstrated the great usefulness of homing pigeons as messengers for naval purposes. . . .
Every outgoing man-of-war is now provided with a number of “pigeons-voyageurs,” which are liberated at various distances according to the stage of their respective training. They return, with a few exceptions, to their home lofts, bearers of cipher dispatches attached to their wings or tails.
A cote has been established on board the artillery practice vessel St. Louis, and the pigeons have become thoroughly accustomed to the report and smoke of the guns, and follow the vessel on her cruise, never mistaking her for another. Their usefulness has been especially appreciated whenever the vessels of the squadron were beyond the range of the heliograph [a system that signals by flashes of sunlight reflected by a mirror], as they enabled the commander of the fleet to communicate with the shore at long distances when no other means of communication were available.
With the turn of the century, in parallel with the emergence of the steel and steam Navy and evolving technologies, Proceedings authors were weighing in on communications. In July 1902’s “The Signal Question Once More,” Lieutenant Commander A. P. Niblack began:
The Navy is again threatened with the periodic upheaval in signals, this time in the shape of a well-defined proposition to abolish everything we have and embark on an experimental code of 44 characters; with a green light added to our four-lamp electric night system; with a white star interjected into the red and green Very pistol code; with a winker light and a flashing searchlight for long distances by night; a semaphore by day; and finally a flag code of 53 flags using an alphabet instead of a numerical code.
This is a very poor time to be upsetting things even if our signal needs should happen to be pressing—which they are not. . . . We are on safe ground in signaling, I feel convinced. Let us stay there.
In “Single Display Tactical Signals” in March 1903, Lieutenant H. C. Mustin pressed for evolutionary change.
The writer has been experimenting with various forms of semaphores since 1897 . . . and has always considered that an efficient semaphore must approach as nearly as possible the advantages of the Ardois light system, while exceeding it in range of visibility. . . . There are advantages in any semaphore over flags; a semaphore is not affected by the direction or lack of wind, nor by the position of the sun, and if constructed of a suitable size, exceeds the flags in range of visibility. Besides, it may be used at that period of time, dawn or twilight, when it is too dark to distinguish the colors in the flags and too light to see the lights of the Ardois. For word messages . . . flag signals are hopelessly slow.
Commander Bradley A. Fiske followed in September with “The Fiske Semaphore System.”
The system, after undergoing trial in service in the Kearsarge and Alabama for two years and four months, was finally approved; and sets were ordered to be installed in the Illinois, Massachusetts, Maine, Iowa, and Indiana on April 1, 1903. It was invented by the writer many years ago. But the Navy . . . was so contented with flag signals that [I] did not think it wise to present an absolute apparatus for test, until 1896, when [I] had an apparatus made and installed in the USS New York. . . .
The semaphore apparatus in the New York was, like the Ardois, operated from an electric keyboard; and after working very well for a few months, it got out of order from an easily reparable derangement—the burning out of a solenoid that moved one of the semaphore arms. Shortly afterward, it was put out of the ship, and progress in naval signaling was set back six years.
Navy communications continued to evolve with installation of wireless devices—as radio was first known—at shore stations, and, in 1902, on the first Navy ships. Proceedings authors would begin to discuss its importance, Navy errors, and the way ahead a few years later.
In October 1920, in “Radio Equipment on ‘NC’ Seaplanes,” Lieutenant Commander Robert A. Lavender wrote:
The prominent part taken by radio apparatus in the transatlantic flight of the NC seaplanes has emphasized the uses and needs of such radio apparatus during long flights along the coast and the absolute necessity of efficient apparatus within reasonable limits of weight for the commercial transatlantic airlines which will be organized in the future. . . . Pounds of weight and pounds of head resistance mean pounds of gasoline and oil. And pounds of gasoline and oil mean speed and endurance. But what good would extra pounds of gasoline and oil do if communications and navigation were made uncertain and the lives of crew and passengers jeopardized when lost during a fog or when drifting on the water with no means of communication? The 26 pounds of radio equipment (emergency transmitter) removed from the NC-3 at Trepassey Bay . . . would have been worth its weight in gold when the NC-3 came down on the water, a few hours later, 50 miles south of the Azores, with 160 gallons of gasoline, but with no means of communication.
In January 1921, a wide-ranging critique was offered in “What Is the Matter With Our Navy’s Radio?” by Lieutenant Bowen Washington, who served on radio duty ashore and at sea “in practically every class of fighting ship, including airplanes and submarines.”
If anyone doubts that we have dropped behind our proper place in this art, he need only make comparison with the “W/T” service of the Royal Navy. . . .
First let us take up the engineering situation as it seems today, which is, of course, the kernel of the whole matter, for without adequate apparatus adequate results cannot be expected. . . .
The theory that civilian experts should be employed undoubtedly has its sound points, but it is impossible to obtain really first class civilian experts at the salaries the Department is able to pay. . . . It does not seem to be thoroughly realized that there are not 20 first-class radio engineers in the country today. . . . This is a very new art, with very limited personnel.
There is also the objection that most of these civilians . . . have little or no idea of the practical difficulties encountered; the vibration which the apparatus has to sustain when installed over the screws of a destroyer; the whipping of topmasts and shock of gunfire; the corrosive effect of salt water and funnel gases; and above all the seemingly inevitable mistreatment to which the apparatus is subjected. . . .
Next the officers. We have a few officers—Naval Academy men—who have received a basic engineering training, and who have taken postgraduate courses in radio. These men have the right basis on which to build, but are they kept at radio? Rarely.
On a more positive note, in May 1925, Lieutenant Harry Breckel wrote in “Naval Radio Progress”:
Since the war we have had many advancements in the art, among them being the perfection of high-power transmitting vacuum tubes and circuits; long-range radio telephone transmitters such as are used in the now internationally popular art of “radio broadcasting”; efficient long-range aircraft radio apparatus; radio beacons for navigating aircraft, and many others too numerous to mention. . . . Realizing the importance of the radio communications branch of the service, the Navy Department has not only kept abreast of developments in the art of radio in general, but has vastly improved its radio systems.
As a case in point, the lieutenant noted that the “Navy has adopted a new type of vacuum tube transmitter to provide for communication over increased ranges” to give its longer-legged fleet greater cruising ability.
In July a year later, Navy Lieutenant Commanders W. S. Hogg and P. H. Tawresey reported in “Naval Communications and Governmental Reorganization” on an executive department reorganization and its impact on naval communications.
The Navy’s essential needs ashore during peace or war are the full control of:
a) A chain of high-power stations to ensure communications with the vessels of our fleets in any waters in which they may operate, and for communication with our outlying possessions;
b) A system of medium power stations for direct communication between ship and shore, and to link the fleet with (a);
c) A system of low-power stations for communication with small vessels, and for direct communication between ships and naval stations;
d) A system of radio compass stations for tracking of enemy vessels; and
e) At Navy Yards and stations: communication offices, telephone exchanges, telegraph offices, landwires, post offices, and pigeon stations. . . .
The Navy radio system is an integral part of the Navy, and its maintenance and operation in peace is of equal importance to the maintenance and operation of the surface, subsurface, and air vessels of the Navy.
After his tour as an early director of naval communications, Rear Admiral T. T. Craven offered his assessment in October 1928’s “Communications.”
Throughout all Europe, the means for a world-wide exchange of information is accepted as being as vital for defense as it is for prosperity. The home-loving United States . . . has but recently appreciated the fact that, when she became unavoidably entangled in international affairs, far-flung communications took on an importance equal to that of the domestic telegraph and telephone. . . .
A slight study of the subject will serve to emphasize the ease with which the owners of a carrier system can govern the source and character of information and thus largely control both commerce and public opinion.
After discussing the communication strategies of both sides during World War I and tactical lessons for fleet communications, the admiral cautioned:
In the daily peacetime exercises of all fleets, the regulation of every detail tends to become centralized in the fleet flagship, through a presumably infallible system of communications. Such a plan produces a better and more interesting drill and stresses routine, but its unsoundness in battle appears to have been made clear; for with units out of sight and spread over a wide area, and during the stress and interference of conflict, no single hand could minutely direct them all. . . .
The leader who undertakes to do all of the thinking for his juniors, a process which easy and reliable peacetime communication encourages, and deadening routine tends to promote, and of relegating to subordinates roles that are merely mechanical, will fail in the future as he has in the past.
Naval communications continued to evolve into its new high-power, global role in the 1930s and played a crucial role in World War II. Key messages and exchanges were recorded for history, but few achieved a higher profile than the Nimitz-to-Halsey message during the October 1944 Battle of Leyte Gulf. Halsey had pursued a Japanese force coming out through the San Bernardino Strait, which, as it turns out, was trying to draw him north away from the main battle. In his Naval Institute oral history, Vice Admiral Gerald Bogan, who was with Admiral William Halsey Jr. at the time, recalled:
About 1030 the next morning, after the second strike, when the thing was practically over, we had sunk all three carriers. The Commander in Chief, Pacific Fleet, Admiral Chester W. Nimitz sent this message to Halsey, “Where is Task Force 34, the world wonders?” And that just turned Halsey on his ear.
Nimitz’s message, in fact, was “Where is Task Force 34?” Nothing more, just a straightforward request for information. Navy communicators, in keeping with procedural practices at the time, added unrelated words at the beginning and end of the substantive text of such messages. In this instance, the communicator preparing Nimitz’s message had simply chosen “the world wonders” as three random words for the padding at the close.
A brief May 1952 article, “The Navy’s Super Antennae,” bylined as Staff, P.I.O., Department of Defense, described the scale of the communications work being done by the men at Naval Radio Station Haiku, Hawaii:
Theirs is the job of maintaining an antenna array which stretches 7,500 feet across a valley at a height on either end of 2,000 feet above the ground. No masts are needed to support the five radiators in the array. The Navy suspended the wires by simply anchoring them at either end on the tops of two mountains which form a mile-wide box canyon. . . .
Construction of the unique antenna system was begun early in 1942 when the Navy faced the need for a high-powered low-frequency transmitter to communicate with Navy raiders on their distant forays into Japanese home waters. . . .
In addition . . . the station served to augment the regular Navy communications to far-flung Pacific Fleet and island bases.
In August 1956, Harvard professor Robert Albion looked at the history of naval communications and their place in Navy connectivity and decision-making in “Communications and Remote Control.”
In 1858, the first Atlantic cable was laid; messages were exchanged for a few weeks and then it broke down, not to be replaced on a permanent basis until 1866. Then, in the course of the next decade, most of the major regions of the world, except for the mid-Pacific, were connected by cable. In more or less the same category, so far as naval communications went, telegraph connections were completed across the continent to San Francisco in 1861.
At last, the Navy Department had the opportunity to exercise remote control over its distant squadrons. . . .
In view of the constant opportunity for immediate remote control thereafter, the Department showed surprisingly little inclination to make “damned errand boys at the end of a telegraph wire” out of its distant commanders in chief. Part of that may have come from a laudable determination not to infringe on the initiative of the man on the spot, but economy seems also to have played its part—cablegrams cost almost five dollars a word at the very outset and were more than a dollar a word on the remote lines for some time to come.
Proceedings authors also were looking to the future. In their July 1962 “Navy Satellite Communications,” Lieutenant Commander Burton I. Edelson and Commander John J. Dougherty wrote:
One of the first big dividends from the U.S. space effort will occur in satellite communications. Of the many areas in which our national space program is engaged, none promises more in utility to mankind in general.
He described three parallel efforts at the Communications Satellite Relay Program of the Bureau of Ships:
1) Exploring usage of Passive Satellites—for high reliability.
2) Participation on Project Advent and SYNCOM—for high-capacity long-range military communications.
3) Development of VLF Satellite—for reliable communications with ships at sea. . . .
Each of these [satellite] types holds promising dividends for the Navy, and the exploitation of the techniques involved will be a most interesting development over the next few years.
In June 1963, Commander Edelson would give an update in “Ships and Satellites.”
The growth of the national space program will require many more range instrumentation ships with ever more sophisticated instrumentation suites. The day may not be far off when combatant ships, too, will carry range instrumentation equipment for tactical operations with military satellite systems as standard equipment.
All three military services and the National Aeronautics and Space Administration are working in the promising area of satellite communications. . . . We foresee the day when satellites will provide such useful services as direct, long-distance telephone dialing to every area of the world, intercontinental and ship-to-shore television, high-capacity, digital data links for computers separated by oceans, and many other services, all at an economical cost.
Picking up a thread in September 1965 from Proceedings authors decades before, Captain John R. Wadleigh addressed the status of “Naval Communicator—Specialist or Subspecialist.”
It is with the unrestricted line officers that our discussion will deal. Should these officers, as they become more senior, give up their unrestricted line status—and, thus, their right to succeed to command at sea—and serve as communications specialists? Or can these officers be both unrestricted line officers and communicators?
After much discussion, the captain concludes they must be both:
Those who plan for this voice of command must have a level of technical competence coupled with a full knowledge of the operational requirements to be satisfied. To obtain the latter, they must be operationally competent themselves, and for us in the Navy, this must include experience in command-at-sea. Only by having communicators who can aspire to command experience at sea can we have a naval communications organization fully responsive to the ever-changing needs of the fleet commanders.
By the turn of the 21st century, the advance of technology had increased exponentially—as had the service’s reliance on accurate and timely information. The Navy established the information professional restricted line community in 2001, tasked with the maintenance, operation, and security of naval networks around the globe to ensure communications capabilities.
In January 1974, Lieutenant D. J. Marshall looked at evolving issues related to “Communications and Command Prerogative.”
As we approach a technology that will permit an instantaneous exchange between our national leadership and all afloat commands, will the CO of the future discover that his previously sacrosanct authority has been eroded to the point that he exists as a mere automaton to execute the orders of others in the fighting of his ship? . . .
Vietnam offered classic examples of centralized decision-making. Decisions which formerly had been the prerogative of on-scene commanders were made at the very highest levels of government. Targeting, weaponry, and strike profiles were often spelled out in the most minute detail, leaving little in the way of flexibility or imagination for those tasked to carry out the assignments. . . .
Over the last 30 years, erosion of command authority has been a military fact of life. There is no reason to assume that this process will be reversed. On the contrary, current developments in communication technology and plans for the future give every indication of an even more rapid rate of erosion of the commander’s initiative.
In his December 1981 article “Communicating with the Silent Service,” Captain Robert J. Carlin looked at the evolution from sporadic, one-way communication with submarines in World War II to the new, nuclear-age era.
Modern submarine operations, however, generally include prolonged periods of intense operational involvement with few or no interruptions. At the same time, the nature of modern operations and missions introduces an even greater requirement for timely and accurate information on the part of the submarine commanding officers.
In the case of the fleet ballistic missile submarine the requirement for continuous one-way communications from the operational commander ashore to the submarine commander at sea is already mandatory. A similar requirement for attack submarines is rapidly developing. Therefore, the submarine force needs a system which will allow submarines to receive messages regardless of their speed, depth, or activities.
He identified 12 programs designed to address different facets of the communication challenge, including Clarinet TACAMO, “designed to provide a survivable communications relay to strategic (FBM) forces using an airborne very low frequency transmitter to supplement shore-to-ship systems.”
It is absolutely essential that each of the critical elements of the problem be examined not in isolation but as an integral part of a comprehensive “whole.” . . . Development of completely balanced submarine C3 systems must permit full exploitation of the flexibility of operations which is inherent in today’s modern submarine fleet while at the same time ensuring that positive command control of operational forces (especially nuclear-capable forces) is an inherent aspect of national policy today.
As the Sea Services’ reliance on ensured communications grew, so did the number of authors addressing what might happen—and how to continue operating—when comms are unreliable or go dark. In “Marines Don’t Need Broadband to Win” in October 2018, Marine Corps Captain Alfred B. Ruggles argued:
The Marine Corps, however, is too dependent on broadband terrestrial and satellite-based communications systems for command and control. These systems . . . have made Marine Corps’ staffs overly reliant on immense quantities of data to perform their duties. . . .
If the United States faces a near-peer adversary in the next war, most U.S. data systems, especially at the tactical and operational levels, could be compromised or destroyed in 24 to 48 hours. This is why the Marine Corps must be the force that can win battles with single-channel radio, and single-channel radio alone.
Advantage at Sea, the triservice maritime strategy released in 2020, challenged the naval services to better integrate to counter rising peer competitors. In “Equip Coast Guard Helicopters with Tactical Data Link” in January 2023, Coast Guard Lieutenant Commander Andrew N. Breen noted:
At present, the Coast Guard cannot fully integrate, as its helicopters are missing tactical data links (TDLs). TDLs can share information among helicopters, the cutters they support, and U.S. and NATO navy assets with whom the Coast Guard integrates. They are force multipliers, providing a joint maritime force accurate and timely maritime domain awareness information. . . .
As joint deployments increase and next-generation cutters come online, Coast Guard helicopters need to be able to fold into the operational picture seamlessly. Contacts detected by MH-65 and MH-60 helicopters must be immediately shareable among Coast Guard, Department of Defense, and NATO assets.
Proceedings authors have done a remarkable job since the 1870s documenting Navy communications’ birth and growth and speaking out on different communications issues. Ensured communication is today even more essential across the Navy and the Sea Services.
As Vice Admiral Ted Branch explained in July 2014 in “‘A New Era in Naval Warfare’”:
Sustaining our global primacy requires that we dominate the battlespace on, above, and below the surface of the sea, as well as outer space. However, successfully commanding, controlling, and fighting our forces in these areas requires dominance in the information domain. . . .
Our formal definition of information dominance is the operational advantage gained from fully integrating the Navy’s information functions, capabilities, and resources to optimize decision-making and maximize warfighting effects. In other words, it means delivering decision-quality information where it matters and when it matters.
In this new era, naval communications will be playing a crucial nonstop role.
