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Preceding pages: Partly masked by the dust churned up by artnored personnel carriers, the massive fuselage and wings of a C-5A still manage to dominate the scene during one of several airlift exercises the Army and Air Force conduct each year. Just as all military and naval capabilities, airlift has its limits. But used properly—as it has been—it can pay the nation great dividends.
I believe that the mobility of our forces is extremely important. From the first day I walked into the Pentagon, I have been focusing on that subject. . . .
Secretary of Defense James R. Schlesinger
Congressional Testimony 1974
jL3eing able to fly infantry divisions across oceans is a possibility Admiral Mahan either did not foresee or considered too speculative for useful comment. If he were around today, one supposes he might praise it as a technical achievement that reflected the continuing inventive genius of the American people. But how would he, as a strategist, advise us to use this new military capability? Indeed, after acquainting himself with the many problems involved, would he recommend that we use it at all?
Not until the advent of large, long-range transport aircraft in the late 1960s and early 1970s did overseas deployment by air become a practical possibility. Long before this, however, the conception began to take shape of giving wings to large ground force units in order that they might go quickly on short notice to distant trouble spots where U. S. interests were threatened.
Events as well as people helped form this conception. One such event was the Berlin airlift of 1948-49. For 14 months the planes shuttled back and forth, day and night, in fair weather and foul, to carry a total of two and one-half million tons of supplies into that beleaguered city while Red Army troops idly watched the weeds grow around their useless roadblocks. This undertaking, with its drama, suspense, and final happy ending, served to impress two thoughts on the public mind: first, that with suitable planes and enough of them, there was virtually no limit to what could be transported by air; and second, that under certain circumstances, a large military airlift fleet could be enormously useful.
Another contributing event was the long-drawn-out buildup of U. S. forces in the Far East after North Korea’s surprise attack across the 38th parallel in June 1950. More than 55 days passed before the first division arrived from the United States. Meanwhile theater forces, thrown into the breach, were slowly compressed into the Pusan perimeter and seemed on the point of being driven into the sea when the bold amphibious assault at Inchon brought them an eleventh-hour reprieve. Yet it was a close call. Monday morning quarterbacks agreed that our lack of readiness had cost uS dearly but disagreed on what should be done about R
Korea, the first major conflict in the nuclear age> had been fought with the supposedly obsolete weapon* and tactics of World War II. The Air Force, firmly wedded to the concept of massive retaliation, viewed it as an unaccountable throwback not likely to recur- On the other hand, the Army, having little capability and still less enthusiasm for using nuclear weapons, took it as the probable pattern of future conflicts- Accordingly Army planners, under the leadership °f World War II paratrooper generals (most notably Matthew B. Ridgway and Maxwell D. Taylor, who both served as chief of staff, and James M. Gavin, chief of research and development), began to develop the doctrine and seek the means to deal with future crises cast in the Korean mold.
The new doctrine of "flexible response,” to use the name General Taylor gave it in his 1959 book, TF Uncertain Trumpet, called for rapid and discriminating (meaning nonnuclear) responses to limited conflagrations. Combat forces tailored to the particular task would move in quickly while the aggression was still in its incipient stages, and seize the initiative before the enemy had time to build up his strength. Hopefully the early arrival of such forces on the scene would have a stabilizing influence and prevent the outbreak of hostilities altogether.
The overriding emphasis was on speed, which meant—in most cases—deployment by air. Army planners soon discovered, however, that the available transport planes could neither lift the total tonnages required nor accommodate all the oversize pieces equipment such as tanks, artillery, and helicopters, tha' would have to accompany the troops.
A modernization of the airlift force, begun soon after the Berlin airlift, had been carried through t° completion after the Korean Armistice. But there was no move thereafter by the Department of Defense t°
k then
urther improve or enlarge it despite the Army’s expressed dissatisfaction. The Navy and Marine Corps, ^e'e naturally oriented toward sealift. Moreover, unlike e Army, they had some transport aircraft of their <nv'n- Hence, they needed comparatively little Defense 1 t support and, generally, were satisfied with the ^mount available. So too was the Air Force which, ■ ur'ng the 1950s, measured the adequacy of airlift by pS ahility to support the deployment of Strategic Air mrnand bombers in case of general war. This view prevailed within the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and the Army a e little headway in its campaign for more and larger P anes until, early in the 1960s, it gained two important and influential allies.
One was the newly-elected President, John F. Ken- y- He read General Taylor’s book, liked the ideas 1 exPressed, and made the ability to respond "flexibly”
ne °f the g0ajs 0p j^s administration
^ ne other was Congressman L. Mendel Rivers, chair- an of the special subcommittee on national military jlf! c esfablished by the House in January I960. In a g*s ative tour de force, Rivers provided the main im- akjUs and leadership in working out a program, accept- forC t0 thC executive branch as well as to Congress, an°ther modernization of military airlift. This pro- arn laid the foundation for the present Military Airlift je°rrirnanfl (mac) fleet of long-range C-141 and C-5A transports that, with few exceptions, can lift every ^n of equipment an Army division has. el k 3 t:H)tcal service briefing we would learn that "our 0j- a airHft capabilities now permit rapid deployment ready U. S. forces to any area of real or threatened lct. ’ While this is quite true in a general sense, US Stralifications and addenda are needed for an ^Ppreciation of what can be done in specific circum- ces- Let us look first at what has to be lifted, and at how the airlift is carried out.
e phrase, "U. S. forces,” may be taken to mean arijUn(a forces—divisions or smaller units of the Army Qr Marine Corps—with supporting tactical air. r °Und forces are divided into companies, battalions, in r?CntS’ and so on, but one usually thinks of deploy- tlie *n terms °f divisions. This is because normally and 1Vls*on ts the smallest unit that is self-sufficient sm i caPak*e °f operating independently. When a
Can b^ Un^’ a ^atta^on’ ‘s a^ tf'at ‘s neefle<f» it the r)C au§mented f°r independent operation. However the .lv*s‘on is a convenient unit of measure and, if so ai. 1 forces can move it, they can always move th ***** smaiier- How big then is a division? Like tyn ^Uestaon> "How big is a dog?,” it depends on the ^1e and whether you include the tail in the measure-
e Army has five types of divisions—infantry, armored, mechanized, airborne, and airmobile—and the Marine division, not precisely like any of these, would make six. The Army divisions all have around 17,000 men (except airborne which is slightly smaller) but they vary widely in weight of equipment from about 11,000 tons for airborne and airmobile to over 50,000 for armored. Depending on the type of division, there are between about 100 and 400 aircraft and between about 3,000 and 5,000 vehicles in each. But this is only the basic unit. Also to be considered is its logistic "tail.”
If the division went into action it would quickly need its "initial support increment”—another 18,000 men and 40,000 tons of equipment; and not long after that, if combat continued, its "sustaining support increment” which presumably would come by sea. On top of all this are the consumable supplies such as food, fuel, and ammunition, that would have to flow in a continuous stream to the deployed unit. Altogether a formidable array of personnel and materiel.
Movement of the troops themselves by air should present no problem. The commercial airlines have more than enough passenger capacity to support any foreseeable deployment. However the equipment is another matter. The air cargo industry is still small and, in any event, its planes are not designed for efficient handling of military equipment, especially vehicles. In fact, a large percentage of the Army’s items could not be carried by those airplanes at all. Hence the task of deploying division equipment would fall mainly on the MAC fleet.
The Military Airlift Command has 275 C-l4ls and 77 C-5As. Manufactured by Lockheed and delivered in 1965-69 and 1969-73 respectively, these jet cargo planes are relatively new. They were designed, in response to Army requirements, specifically for the rapid deployment mission. On a flight from the United States to Europe the C-141 could carry about 34 tons and the much larger C-5A over three times that amount. More significantly, the C-5A has a capacious cabin with almost seven and one-half times more cubic feet of storage space. This permits it to accommodate all but the very largest pieces of division equipment. The exceptions include such things as landing craft, paving machines, heavy cranes, and fixed-wing aircraft (which last can fly themselves overseas).
When the division is alerted for air deployment, its equipment must be broken down into planeload lots. The ideal load would be one filling the cargo compartment from floor to ceiling and, at the same time, weighing the maximum that the plane could lift. Such a balance is rarely achieved in practice. A capacity load by weight of heavy dense items like mortar shells would leave unused cabin space whereas a cabin full
only 63
per cent, or 38 per cent, of what it could
Pylon fuel tanks would be far under the allowable ght. The C-141 presents a particular problem in this pect because it tends to be space-limited on most a ^ employment missions. Studies have indicated, •p 0rding to testimony by the Air Force Director of **nsportation, "that the average C-141 payloads, c would be achieved in a deployment to Europe, ^rom 22 tons for an armored division to 13 tons pla 10 a*rm°kile division.” In other words the average e- even though fully loaded, would be carrying
actually hft.
c As a further complication, the maximum allowable le °° weight will vary a great deal according to the a fa ^ C^e This is because the weight of fuel,
of Ct°r little or no importance on cargo ships, is th rr>al0r Importance on cargo planes. For example, in had airlift to the Middle East, if the C-5s had the t0 ^ ooostop from the United States to Israel, 0p ^ could have carried no more than about 33.5 tons in ^a'^oacl Per trip. As it was however, by refueling ■7^ ^ C Azores, they were able to carry an average of of f t0ns—more than twice as much. Thus the weight c . consumed may well exceed the weight of cargo re1C<a' And the longer the flight, the greater the fuel juirement and the less the allowable cargo weight, fliff °nSidering tl16 vari°us types of divisions, their ^ ering support requirements, the complications of lastght an£l cube in loading aircraft, and the inevitable ttunute decisions on where the force is going and how it will get there, the logisticians have an unenviable task. However they have worked out tables, graphs, computer programs, and so on, to handle the mass of detail. And they, along with Army troops and Air Force air and ground personnel, have rehearsed procedures in many tests, exercises, and actual deployments over the last few years. So there is good reason to believe that, even under conditions of extreme urgency, the combat force can be loaded out and speeded on its way with order and efficiency.
When one hears that such and such infantry division is being rushed overseas by air to cope with some real or simulated emergency, the image may come to mind of an airfield jammed with huge transport planes parked wingtip to wingtip. Long columns of men, tanks, and guns are queued up behind the planes and move slowly
up the ramps into the cavernous interiors. Once all are aboard, the hatches are secured and engines started. The planes taxi out in column to the end of the runway, take off in quick succession, and assemble in loose formation as they head out over the ocean.
That indeed was the general pattern of the great airborne assaults of World War II in which tactical transport planes lifted airborne divisions en masse, flew them behind enemy lines, and delivered them via parachute or glider onto the battlefield. And it is still the pattern of many military air operations, including bombing raids and fighter sweeps as well as airborne assaults.
Strategic airlift, however, operates in a different fashion. Instead of sending aircraft off in groups, maximum efficiency is achieved by dispatching them singly at regular intervals. Frederick C. Thayer, author of Air Transport Policy and National Security/ has likened the process to a conveyor belt extending from point of departure to final destination with the transports spaced at more or less equal intervals along it. The rate of flow is regulated according to the capabilities of departure, enroute, and arrival airfields for parking and handling aircraft, loading and discharging cargo, refueling, and suchlike. If one conveyor belt, or "channel” to use the technical term, cannot produce the desired flow, others are established using different airfields along alternate routes.
Thus an airlift comprises more than just cargoes and the airplanes and flight crews to haul them. There must be a route structure made up of bases, ground personnel, maintenance and servicing facilities, and cargo handling equipment. Also navigation and landing aids, rescue facilities, and weather reporting and communications nets must exist. Fighter escorts might be necessary to prevent enemy interference with the airlift. If there is no existing route structure to support an emergency deployment, one must be quickly established. To be able to do this requires detailed planning ahead of time, extensive stocks of supplies and equipment, and—above all—an effective system of management.
The Military Airlift Command, with headquarters at Scott Air Force Base, Illinois, not far from St. Louis, is responsible for organizing and operating a worldwide airlift system and for providing airlift service to all agencies of the Department of Defense. Befitting its global mission, mac divided the world into two parts, giving half to each of its two major subordinate commands. The 21st Air Force at McGuire AFB in New Jersey got everything east of a north-south line near Kansas City, Missouri; and the 22nd at Travis AFB, California, everything west of that line. On the far side of the globe, the dividing line is in the vicinity Karachi, Pakistan. Within their respective hemisphere* these two commands manage the existing routes, use*[1] primarily for air logistic support of Defense activities in various parts of the world, and stand prepared t° establish and operate new routes as and when the situation requires. The airplanes and flight crews tbs* move passengers and cargo along these far-flung route* can come from a variety of sources.
First there is mac’s own fleet, previously mentioned' comprising four squadrons of C-5As and 13 0 C-l4ls—352 aircraft altogether, including spares. Thee there is the Civil Reserve Air Fleet (craf), mac’s pdn' cipal source of augmentation in peace and war. Established in 1952, it provides specifically designated aircraft from the civil airlines as backup airlift in emergencie* and national crises.
Planes committed to the craf program are, for th£ most part, the latest types in commercial use. Numb#* vary somewhat from month to month but, as a genet* indication of size and composition, there were on September 1974 a total of 247 long-range aircraft. The*3 included 90 passenger, 72 cargo, and 85 convertib^ types, the latter being a passenger plane designed quick removal of seats and conversion (say in 36 hou** or less) into a cargo carrier. The purely passeng'" types are mostly wide-bodied jets whereas the major* v of cargo and convertible types are much smaller n*3' chines. However, below the main passenger deck 0 the big jets is a low-ceilinged but otherwise caverno^ compartment that can handle the palletized load of30 average air freighter. Yet despite its substantial carg° lift capacity, the craf fleet is ill-suited, as we shall sce’ for hauling ground force equipment.
Another possible source of augmentation is *bc Airlift Command’s fleet of C-130 aircraft with over 23'- in regular squadrons and some 200 more in Resell and Air National Guard units. The C-130, also buft1 by Lockheed, bears a family resemblance to the C-l^ and C-5 though it is smaller and slower, being equippe“ with turboprop instead of jet engines. This very sUc' cessful plane, used by air forces around the world af® still in production after 19 years, was designed as 5 tactical transport. However it can lift up to 20 to*1 and the later models have enough range for use 00 international routes. Consequently, long-range fligb1’ were commonly made by C-130s in the early 19$ before the jet transports came along. Despite all th*Sl mac planners probably could not count on gettin£ many of these aircraft in time of emergency becau*3 presumably, they would be otherwise occupied, eithe! in theater airlift tasks or in helping with the overset deployment of tactical air units. Indeed, until Dece**1 ber 1974 most of them were in the Tactical Air Co*11
mand. Now all are in mac.
^or strategic airlift reserves, there are 17 Air Force b ^serve Associate Squadrons, so-called because they Ve no aircraft of their own but share the same loca- th n ^ MAC s regular C-5 and C-141 squadrons and use j Same e4u'Pment- This arrangement enables reserv- to operate first-line aircraft and give immediate ^ I port in emergencies that require increased flying °Ur rates- The Air National Guard, which elected to
retain its
own transport aircraft, is now mostly con-
verted r > ^ w
^ o to C-130s. Until recently it operated a few
k ^s- These prop-driven strategic transports, dating
the t0 ear^ 1950s, were once the workhorses of
Mac fleet. Now all have been retired to desert
an/ge, to be used only if needed. Even though slow
theWearT they can still lug some heavy loads across
SoJust t0 complete our look at long-range airlift re- rces, let us note that there are a few others around
c°uld be used in emergencies. For example, the
. A 1 *- ( ' mm n n/ ' 1 2 J
1 tankers—Strategic Air Command KC-135s and
por ^orPs l^C-130s, and the Navy’s C-9B jet transit S recently acquired for fleet logistic support. The e Will Rogers was asked many years ago what he
thought of a proposal to make Oklahoma’s Red River navigable. He replied that it would be cheaper to pave it. In similar vein, one suspects MAC could build new planes sooner than it could borrow these. Be that as it may, there is still a lot of available airlift. But is it enough? What determines the amount needed?
Compared with estimating requirements for bombers to interdict a supply line or for fighters to gain air superiority, it is a simple matter to figure the number of transports needed to move passengers and cargo at a given rate from point A to point B. A junior logistician could make a rough estimate on the way to his coffee break. But the rub is, of course, that troop movements involve questions of strategy as well as logistics. What, precisely, has to be lifted? To where? And in what length of time? While subordinates may assemble facts, prepare analyses, and conduct war games, the answers ultimately rest on the assumptions and judgments of political and military leaders at the highest levels of government.
The Department of Defense’s approach, outlined by Secretary Schlesinger in his annual report for Fiscal Year 1975, was to base airlift requirements on the most demanding contingency likely to arise—namely, an attack on nato by nations of the Warsaw pact, led by the USSR. These requirements, he said, were then checked against lesser contingencies "to see whether what can lick the cat can also lick the kitten.”
While current NATO strategy does not rule out the early use of tactical nuclear weapons, it does retain the option of offering a conventional defense, at least initially, against a conventional attack by the Warsaw Pact. The forces deployed on the crucial central front comprise 29x/3 NATO divisions facing 58 Warsaw Pact divisions. In terms of manpower the disparity is not as great as these figures would indicate, with NATO having 777,000 men in its forces compared to the Warsaw Pact’s 925,000. An assessment of the comparative advantages in such things as the quality and quantity of tactical aircraft, tanks, and other weapons, and the cohesion and political reliability of the constituent national forces, suggests an approximate military balance in deployed forces. Hence, a key factor in all calculations is the question of how rapidly each side can bring up reinforcements.
The United States has four and one-third divisions in Europe along with enough prepositioned equipment for at least two and two-thirds more divisions. In the continental United States are three and two-thirds active divisions that could be committed to Europe and four more regular divisions, plus several reserve brigades, that could be sent later. Proportionate numbers of tactical fighter squadrons would have to accompany these divisions as the buildup progressed. The weight of men, equipment, and supplies in the part of the force to be airlifted comes to about half a million tons. Planes on the Berlin Airlift carried five times that tonnage but it took them 13 months to do so ovd a very much shorter distance. How soon do our reinforcements for NATO have to be delivered?
"Almost everyone in Europe,” reported Senator Sara Nunn of Georgia after his February 1974 visit, "write5 off the usefulness of forces that . . . would take mote than 10-20 days to arrive.”2 While American military authorities generally take a more optimistic view ot NATO prospects than do their European counterpart5’ they agree that the United States must be able to reinforce NATO quickly by air. Questions on such mat’ ters hardly admit to precise answers, though they tenc to get them anyway in Pentagon planning—and ke£p them.
One objective, dating back at least to the mid-19<a®s' and recently reaffirmed, is to be able to fly an arm) division to Europe in seven days, an average figurC since, as we have seen, divisions differ widely in sizc and weight. With present airlift resources, that task is said to take about 19 days. In case the reader geli a different answer, using data previously given, ,[ should be pointed out that there are additional factor* involved. For example, other urgent tasks would havC to be carried out concurrently; the possible one-hal' war of the one and one-half war strategy would requiff consideration; and the percentage of outsize equipmeP1 rather than total tonnage would be the pacing facto1 in deployment times.
During the FY 1975 budget hearings, the SecretaP of Defense recommended three steps to cut the average division deployment time from 19 to 7 days. NoP£ involved the purchase of new planes. Whether or no1 one agrees on the need for more airlift, these proposal are of interest for the additional light they shed the nature of airlift systems.
The first proposal was to get more airlift out of existing mac fleet by increasing the wartime utilization rate. "Aircraft utilization” may be defined as the avef' age number of hours flown daily by a single airplaP£| It is a basic management tool, widely employed in air operations but especially useful for measuring productivity of airlift operating on the conveyor b^1 principle. The higher the utilization rate, the less titPc the airplanes will spend on the ground and the mof£ cargo it will deliver on the conveyor belt. Groups time is required for such purposes as taking on aP^ discharging cargo, refueling, and making any necessaO
2U. S. Congress. Senate Committee on Armed Services. Policy, Troops, the NATO Alliance (Report of Senator Sam Nunn), Washington, GPU' 1974, p. 8.
repairs; also for crew rest when another flight crew is unavailable to take the plane on to the next stop.
It follows that some of the ways to reduce ground ,lmc are t0 acquire more flight crews and mechanics, 1 a up stocks of spare parts, expand maintenance C1 ltles, introduce more efficient cargo-handling Methods, and establish alternate routes to avoid base juration with attendant pile-ups of aircraft. Also, for . lte<a periods during emergencies, it is possible to 'Ucrease flying hours between crew rests, defer aircraft a,ntenance not directly related to safety, and go to ^Slx" or seven-day work week. Such actions, if prepared r In advance, enable a military airlift system to operate a low utilization rate in peacetime but to "surge” a much higher rate immediately upon the outbreak
With a low peacetime utilization rate of its own P anes of around four or five hours a day, mac can c cne commercial airlines a reasonable share of de- se airlift business and, at the same time, conserve win military equipment, especially the C-5A whose l^ng fatigue problems still curtail its expected service P C' emergencies this aircraft, according to Air . °rce officials, can and will be flown without restric-
P°ns ) F°r some years past, mac’s planned wartime rates an^ ^Cen tCn k°urs on initial surge (for up to 45 days) ^ eight hours for sustained operations thereafter. It on ^roPoscd to increase these rates to twelve and je^e ^alf and ten hours respectively, thus providing—at • ln theory—a 25 per cent increase in airlift capabil- s ‘ he estimated price of the additional personnel and of j1CS’ while not cheap, was obviously less than that a ditional transports. But how far can we push such P C°ncept? In a hostile environment, when planes are lng shot down, extra planes might be a lot handier
TheXtfa SUrSC'
fu l C SCCOn^ proposal was to lengthen the C-141 tent ^ some 23 feet in order to provide 30 per use 0101:0 cahin space. This would allow more efficient jj che airplane which is, as previously noted, space- in i 00 army deployment missions. The remedy and ^ maior surgery-i.e., cutting the fuselage fore Se^. °f the wing and grafting in two new tubular air °fS ^ots may cringe at the thought, but other
lw 3 C have survived like operations and been the ctter for it
Tt
e third proposal was aimed at building up the F cargo capability. About 110 wide-bodied corns'131 aircraft (Boeing 747s or the somewhat iOu ^ ^lcI-)onnell'k)ouglas DC-10 and Lockheed ftorri would be transformed at government expense in i Passenger to convertible types. The changes would Part C Strengtf|ening rhe floor of the passenger com- nient> installing a nose door or a large side door aft of the wing, and providing cargo-handling kits. Thus modified, the planes could be shifted quickly from passenger to cargo service and, on army deployment missions, they could accommodate about a third of the outsize equipment which now will fit only in the C-5A.
It remains to be seen whether all or any of these actions will be taken to provide more airlift. But even with the existing capability, which is substantial, the question arises of what to do with it while it is not engaged in deploying ground units. Of course airlift can be used in the logistic support of U. S. forces overseas—perhaps even on the seas if some means of delivery is devised. But to view air logistics in the proper context, one must first recognize the essential role of sealift in deploying as well as in supporting military power.
Historically, the great bulk of military tonnages have gone overseas in ships—an estimated 98 per cent in World War II and, despite the intervening growth of airlift, about 95 per cent in the Vietnam War. And in future wars there seems little reason to expect any major change in these percentages. Cargo airlift may continue to grow, but surface shipping itself is on the increase with the recent development of fast container- ships and intermodal transport systems.
Many people continue to look upon air and sealift as competitive and to extol the advantages of one over the other. However both are needed and they are so markedly different in the services they provide that
most of the usual comparisons seem irrelevant. Like cost, for example. The question is not whether air transport costs more (which generally it does, though not always), but whether it is worth its cost. The answer will depend on matters such as the sort of items being shipped, where they are going, and how soon they must get there.
A transport plane has two unique characteristics. One is speed. The other, an ability to pass unhindered over surface obstacles. Hence airlift is used when it is important to save time or, regardless of time, when no other means of transport is feasible. People fly to save time. So do orchids and electronic parts. On the other hand, in the Second World War, drums of fuel flew "over the hump” of the Himalayas into China simply because they had no other way to get there. And in 1948-49, sacks of coal flew into Berlin for the same reason.
Supplies in the military logistic system are normally airlifted to save time and, despite the higher cost for shipping by air, the saving of time can often result in the saving of money. There is the familiar case of the idle machine or weapon system awaiting a part from the factory. Less obvious is the opportunity to eliminate thousands of items for which there is infrequent demand from the shelves of military warehouses and storerooms around the world. If the air transportation service is fast, frequent, and reliable, these local stocks—sometimes entire depots—can be dispensed with. Items can be ordered only when they are needed, for they will arrive within a few days from a central source in the United States. And longer range aircraft flying polar routes now make it possible for any U. S. aerial port to serve any overseas destination without the necessity of transshipment.
Another aspect of air logistics is the "backhaul”— which is to say, the return trip to the United States. In wartime, the sick and wounded routinely are evacuated, and so are prisoners of war. Captured enemy equipment may be rushed back for study and analysis by technical experts. And in peace and war, the return of reparables offers potential savings not yet fully realized. Some years ago a joint logistics task group estimated that repair, as a source of resupply for reparable items, would produce from 30 to 75 per cent of all
C-47s are unloaded at Tempelhof Airdrome during the Berlin Airlift in 1949■ The goods sent to Berlin went the greater distances by sea and land and only a short way by air. But by air was the only way the journey could be completed.
resupply requirements, depending on the particub1 commodity. Aerial evacuation of reparables permits3 reduction of maintenance facilities in forward ares* with resultant savings in skilled technicians, precision machinery, and stocks of spare parts—all usually 1(1 short supply, especially in wartime.
The mac fleet, geared for the massive lift require' ments of the rapid deployment mission, probably coul“ satisfy the needs of all the Services for peacetime log15' tic support. Why not use this fleet then to the fulle51 extent—which is to say, at or near the wartime utiliz3' tion rate? The Defense Department could thus capi^' ize on its investment in aircraft and perhaps achiev£ even further economies by using any excess lift capacif' to bring still more items into the air logistic system This beguiling thought raises two interrelated queS' tions.
First, what would happen to air logistic supp°fI when military transports are pulled off to carry out $ emergency deployment? Should it slacken or stop, °r' ganizations might find their flow of supplies disrupt at the very moment of greatest need, assuming the)' too had to increase readiness in the emergency. Mof£' over, the problem would be especially acute for tho-3£ organizations that had reduced their inventories, an3 closed their maintenance facilities in order to deri',£ maximum benefit from the air resupply system. Thc planned course of action, and the one taken with ap
3 Nrkel 55.
p.
Parent success when mac planes have previously been verted from channel traffic to other purposes, is to ca 1 on craf to take up the slack.
This leads to the second question: Will craf always fesP°nd to the call? Participating airlines will doubtless „°nor their contractual obligations. But until craf is activated” by an official declaration of emergency, jfiember contributions are voluntary. There never has en any such activation so far, despite several crises . udlng a major war, so there may be none in future r>ses. Naturally the airlines will volunteer equipment en they have idle capacity as they did, for example, guthe tame °f the airlift to Israel in the fall of 1973. ut what of a crisis that comes inconsiderately when an farms are bulging with jet fuel at reduced prices, urist travel is at a peak, and the long-heralded boom ^n air freight is finally upon us? Would, indeed, should,
. members switch their patrons to nonparticipating nes, including foreign carriers, and thereby lose a 0repetitive advantage?
The problem resembles that faced by the Military sh* * ■ ^ornrnan<f (MSC) when there is insufficient idle Ppmg to meet the requirements of some lesser emer- 8ency- But msc, having few ships of its own, must Retract for most peacetime sealift requirements. The j *tary Airlift Command, on the other hand, with its est^ 2*r transPort Aeet, faces a serious conflict of inter- ln deciding how much Defense airlift business to J the civil airlines and how much to keep for itself. ^ s we have seen, the commercial operators in the program have substantial capacity not only to ry passengers but also containerized and palletized 6°- Such cargo, according to industry spokesmen, Presents about 90 per cent of the military logistic PP°tt requirement.3 Since the civil airlines constitute Valuable wartime asset, it is in the interest of the er*se Department to foster their growth and devel- ^ ent by giving them as much business as possible.
Oreover, the prospect of receiving such business is the °* t*'C ma’n inducements for airlines to participate in CRaf program. Yet the practical effect of awarding tracts to the airlines is to idle the MAC fleet which . ' ttself be exercised to stay in readiness for emergen- Therein lies the dilemma.
q he course now taken is to operate the C-5As and ls at a low utilization rate (rather than park them fo SOrne a*rTne spokesmen have urged) and contract some 90 per cent of passenger lift but use military is LSPorts P°r most air cargo traffic. If neither party nappy wjtj1 tp£ arranaement, perhaps that is how U sh°uld be.
e>’ Rice, The C-5A Scandal, Boston, Houghton Mifflin Co., 1971,
Actually the airlines are helped indirectly in other ways. U. S. world leadership in commercial aircraft production is due in no small measure to Defense support of the airplane manufacturing industry. The new family of wide-bodied jets—Boeing’s 747, McDonnell-Douglas’s DC-10, and Lockheed’s
L-1011—could not have come along when they did without the mass of design data these companies developed largely at Defense Department expense during competition for the C-5 contract. True, the surge of passenger traffic, which made them so attractive in the mid-1960s, has since abated, leaving some airlines with excess capacity and dampened enthusiasm for the wide-bodies. Nevertheless these aircraft, along with the C-5A, represent a major advance in aviation technology that will inevitably pay off in one way or another.
During the procurement of the C-5A some of its critics charged that the 747 was cheaper, faster and could carry a heavier payload. Why, they asked, wasn’t it being bought instead? For one thing, the cargo versions then offered could accommodate only 34 per cent of the equipment (by weight) of an armored division. But, in a broader sense, the two aircraft simply illustrate the differing needs of military and commercial interests.
To the airline industry, whose air cargo business is so much smaller than its passenger business, the simplest and cheapest approach is to adapt the same basic airplane to both purposes. Thus all commercial long- range jet cargo planes now in use are modifications of aircraft originally designed for passenger service. Such planes, if not ideal, are at least acceptable for transporting the pallets and containers that make up most of the air cargo business.
On the other hand, for deploying a military unit with its large number of heavy bulky vehicles, the converted passenger plane has two conspicuously bad features. One is the side door entry which means that everything has to turn a corner on its way in and out. The other is the location of the cabin on top of the wing which puts the main cargo deck high above the ground—about 16 feet in the case of the 747, DC-10, and L-1011. For scheduled air cargo service, special high-lift ground handling equipment can be stationed at regular stops to load and unload pallets and containers. However for an emergency force deployment, such equipment might have to be brought in before the airlift could start. And, in any event, to muscle a 50-ton M-60 tank out through a side hatch and lower it some 16 feet to the ground would be a challenge with even the best of equipment.
To obviate such problems, military planners wanted the main cargo deck close to the ground—at truck-bed height—and the access door at the end of the compart-
ment instead of at the side. Cargo could then be unloaded directly onto ordinary commercial trucks, and vehicles could be driven straight out down the airplane’s own built-in ramps. This is the configuration of current military transports. The C-141 has rear access doors and the C-5 has front access as well to permit loading and unloading at both ends.
In airplane design, almost every advantage has a corresponding disadvantage. The convenience of rear access carried the penalty of a steeply swept-up tail with a less efficient aerodynamic shape that increased drag and reduced speed. The truck-bed-height floor required a high-wing design that added structural weight and decreased payload. (The extra weight comes largely from having to beef up the fuselage which carries the landing gear and must therefore support the weight of the plane. On the usual low-wing passenger plane, the landing gear is secured directly to the massive wing structure and the fuselage, resting on top of the wing, needs only to support its own weight.)
The military transports found no buyers among the airlines who felt the added convenience in cargo handling was not worth the sacrifice in speed and payload. Moreover the planes had other features that added much to their cost and little to their commercial utility. The average airline operator, for example, rarely has occasion to refuel planes in the air, deliver passengers and freight by parachute, or go into short rough fields that lack navigation and landing aids. So the search continues for a large-capacity "uncompromised” cargo plane that can serve military purposes, yet be profitable in commercial use. With fleets of such aircraft, the air carriers might some day take over most of the present peacetime airlift functions of MAC. But the comparatively slow growth of the air cargo industry and the unknown implications of the energy crisis make the outlook uncertain.
We have discussed the size and general nature of airlift systems and of the ground forces they must deploy. Beyond these known factors in the equation are various unknowns—questions that can have no answers until a real-life crisis supplies them. For example, will friendly nations permit our aircraft to overfly their territories and perhaps use their bases for enroute stops? Will overseas fuel supplies be adequate for sustained operations? And will hostile nations try to stop the airlift by the use of force?
A denial of overflight privileges might necessitate wide detours, as in the 1958 Lebanon crisis when troops dispatched to that country from West Germany had to be flown around west of the Alps instead of directly over them. Without overflight rights, no aid could be flown to a landlocked state like Laos unless perhaps, in a very grave situation, the government should consider it necessary to send the transports in anyway However, states that border on the sea, as most could receive aid from planes approaching over intern^ tional waters.
A shortage of enroute bases might require Ion? nonstop flights with resultant payload reductions, a! in the 1973 airlift to Israel. Aerial refueling now offc1* a promising means not only of extending range N1 also of increasing payload, since a plane can carry monweight in level flight than it can lift off the groun on takeoff. The C-5 can be refueled in flight and, aI present writing, its flight crews are being qualified i" this technique.
At the outset of a crisis there might be no fuel * the destination. Or the threat of enemy action migb1 require a quick turnaround without servicing, as forward airfields in South Vietnam in the spring 0 1972. In such cases the planes would have to land wid1 enough fuel to return to the nearest recovery base i11 the area. Here, too, the problem is largely a matT1 of extending range.
But what would happen, one must ask, if all ovC flight was denied, no enroute or recovery bases w£ft available, every destination airfield was knocked out»! enemy bombers, and none of our resupply tankC could run the submarine gauntlet?
Even in these dire circumstances, troops and supply might still be delivered overseas by air though, 0 course, on a greatly reduced scale. However, not every thing will go against us. Experience tells us to expe£l a mixed bag. Some friends will cooperate. OthC won’t. Some enemy attacks, if they come at all, W*1' succeed, while others will fail. A strategic airlift is tk same in this respect as any other military venture, land, or sea, or in the air. Historically, airlift, aide” by all the services, has managed to solve its own pecu' liar problems and deliver its cargoes. On this basis, ^ have reason to believe, paraphrasing a remark by Stank! Baldwin, a British prime minister of the 1930s, tha[-
"th
e transport plane (like the bomber) will always get through.”4
Strategic airlift has another application closely related t0 the rapid deployment of combat forces and possibly t'valing it in importance. This is what might be called °gtstic quick reaction—the ability, as the phrase sug- Sests, to rush military supplies and equipment to any Part of the world in support of U. S. interests. It offers new °Pportunities to mitigate the consequences of tactical defeats, to retrieve some of the blunders and oversights that inevitably occur in any military opera- tj°n, and to adjust to technological surprises such as th^ enemy's introduction of a lethal new weapon. On e other side of the coin, the opportunity to exploit unexpected success should not be lost while awaiting ^Pplies. Logistic quick reaction can help friends and
• es as well as our own forces. The Middle East crisis n the fall of 1973 provides a recent illustration of how
• SU(^en emergency may arise and what can be done ln response to it.
In this instance the United States was seeking to an<JSCrVe 211 aPProx‘mate military balance between Israel the Arab states while endeavoring, on the diplo- ,atic front, to find some basis for a peaceful settlement aft fitter and long-standing conflict. Early in the £ rn°on of 6 October, Israel was attacked on two j;0nts—by Syria in the Golan Heights area, and by across t^le Suez Canal. The attackers, using new vtet antiaircraft and anti-tank weapons with deadly ct, took Israel by surprise. Her armed forces fell back 'ally with heavy casualties and much loss of equip- ntl However, they rallied and succeeded in stopping e Arab advance. Then, on 10 October, they counter- cked. Still the military balance seemed tipped gainst Israel, the more so as the USSR that day began Passive air and sealift operation to resupply the Syrian
and Egyptian forces.
Also on the 10th, as a precautionary measure, the U. S. Joint Chiefs of Staff directed the Military Traffic Management and Terminal Service (mtmts)—later redesignated the Military Traffic Management Command (mtmc)—to begin moving items quickly to airfields and ocean terminals in the United States. As a result, when the President authorized an emergency U. S. air and sealift three days later, on the 13th, operations could begin at once. Within nine hours, the first mac plane, a C-5 loaded with 96.5 tons of cargo, was airborne and headed east toward Tel Aviv.
C-l4ls and C-5s followed at regular intervals and, within the first three days, the airlift built up to almost 1,000 tons a day. Because of political sensitivities over the Arab oil embargo, the only available refueling stop was in the Azores. Lajes Field, a key air base used by American forces since World War II, had been bypassed in recent years by most of the longer range jets. Now came a sudden surge in air traffic—not only a procession of big transports but also of F-4 fighters and A-4 attack planes being ferried to Israel. The smaller aircraft either landed for service or were refueled in flight by KC-135 tankers based on the field.
All the unaccustomed activity at Lajes began to draw down its fuel reserves which brought a hurry-up call to CinCLant for replenishment. In due course a tanker arrived and operations continued without interruption. The Commander Sixth Fleet also assisted the air movement by stationing two carriers along the flight path of the planes as they threaded their way the length
Three super-size commercial airliners with potential as airlift auxiliaries: The Boeing 747, the McDonnell Douglas DC-10, and the Lockheed L-1011.
A
of the Mediterranean, remaining at all times well offshore from the countries bordering it. The carriers could have provided search and rescue service, aids to navigation and communication, and—more importantly—fighter escort had such been necessary.
On November 2nd, about a week after the cease-fire, a truce was agreed upon. Also, on that date, the first ship arrived with military supplies from the United States. The airlift continued for a few days more at a reduced rate. Then, on the 14th, a C-5 discharged the last plane load at Lod Airport, near Tel Aviv, and the airlift was over. Meanwhile, sealift was beginning to bring in its massive cargoes which ultimately exceeded airlift tonnages by more than three to one.
Yet airlift had been first, if not with the most, with what was urgently needed during the battle—items ranging from 50-ton M-60 tanks and CH-53 "Super Jolly Green Giant” helicopters to tents, blankets, and helmets. And beyond any material aid, the airlift and follow-on sealift had important psychological effects, lifting the spirits of the hard-pressed Israelis and giving Arab leaders, perhaps, some sober second thoughts after their initial successes. Thus, by taking this means to correct an apparent imbalance, the United States may have helped both sides toward a clearer recognition of the futility of their long-continued struggle.
The flight paths of the U. S. and USSR airlifts crossed in the eastern Mediterranean and some mac crews occasionally heard radio transmissions by their Soviet counterparts. However there was no reported interference by either side with the operations of the other. The Soviets flew into Damascus and Cairo from bases averaging about 1,700 miles away. Their planes were of two types: the An-12, a four-engine turboprop roughly comparable to the C-130 tactical air transport; and the An-22, also a turboprop, at one time the world’s largest plane, but somewhat smaller than the C-5A. The An-22 is capable of hauling outsize military cargo. In comparing the two airlifts, the Secretary of the Air Force said, with obvious satisfaction: "The C-l4ls and C-5s moved half-again as much cargo, over three and one-half times the distance, on little more than half the missions, in a week’s less time.”
Even so the Soviet airlift, and accompanying sealift, represented a substantial effort. Why was the task undertaken? Because of a perceived opportunity, perhaps, to exploit an unexpected success, a breakthrough. Knowing the United States could ultimately "out- logistic” them, they tried for the quick grab, the fait accompli, before superior American resources could be brought to bear. If this was the objective, their failure to attain it must be attributed primarily to Israel’s ability to recover from an initial setback. But undoubtedly the speed and weight of the U. S. response was also a factor. In any event, whatever the real or assume^ shortcomings of the Soviet air and sealift operation, it is not to be dismissed lightly. As the first major projection of military power beyond their contiguous land borders, one must ask what it portends for the future.
Drew Middleton, New York Times military corespondent, writing on "The Next War” in the November 1973 Atlantic, said: "Containment... is dead. The expansion of the Soviet fleet and, equally important, of Soviet air transport has relegated it to the history books.”
But does he not overstate the case? While an expanded Soviet fleet has indeed ventured far afield, 11 has done so unopposed. What it might do against the active opposition of U. S. and allied naval forces >* another matter. And air transport is not, of itself, military power. If it was, Liberia with its large registry' of merchant vessels would, by the same reasoning, he the world’s foremost naval power. Transport planes helpless if attacked. They can operate only by sufferan^ or behind the protective shield of superior air and nav^ power. Therefore, in war the USSR cannot use transport aircraft, or cargo ships, to project power oversea* unless it has the means to protect them.
All this sounds fine, at least in terms of traditions1 strategy. But now, being 30 years into the nuclear age- we are not so sure.
Many things have changed since 1945. True, we hav£ continued to have wars—a good many in fact. But thef have been peculiar wars. Hostilities have begun without declarations of war and ended without peace treaties’ Cease-fires have brought continued firing. Uneasy truce* have satisfied no one. American warplanes have flowu thousands of bombing sorties from land bases an1 carriers that rarely, if ever, have been bombed themselves. Nor have cargo ships and transport planes bee*1 attacked as they brought in equipment and supple to help sustain the war effort on both sides. Though possessed of overwhelming air and naval superiority' throughout most of the period, the United States ha* seldom used it in any decisive way. Lucrative target* have been avoided, opposing forces granted sanctuaries, and war goods allowed into enemy ports. Will waf* ever again be fought in the classic style?
Vice-Admiral Sir Peter Gretton, in his book, Mat1' time Strategy, lists as one of six wartime principles: "2# need to strike at enemy sea communications in orde* both to damage his economy and to prevent him usin# the sea for military purposes.” The principle seem* eminently sound and surely most naval strategist* would agree with it. And yet, in light of recent events, we must ask ourselves: Who will fire the first shot’
When and under what circumstances will Washing'
t0n order the first Soviet cargo ship sunk or air transport shot down in international waters; and when will oscow order our ships and planes attacked?
Upon the outbreak of general nuclear war?— Undoubtedly.
Following a large-scale conventional attack on Nato?—yery probably.
In other contingencies?—As one goes down the
^ale, a wait-and-see attitude becomes increasingly likely.
This is not meant to suggest that we can reduce e readiness of our naval forces. Their readiness may WeH be the reason we have had no major fleet engage- nicnts in the nuclear age. What it does suggest, °ugh, is that limited war planners should make a
ear distinction between two very different types of
war: (i)
one in which the use of the high seas is c°ntested, and (2) one in which it is not.
In the first type of war, the USSR would have little 'hty to project military power overseas without first establishing naval supremacy; however in the second |ype, which now seems more probable, she could use substantial air and sealift forces to cause all sorts trouble in the most distant quarters of the globe. agme the already familiar scenario, for example, in lc“ hostilities are confined to the land, territorial Waters> and superadjacent airspace of the opposing states. Each adversary is sustained by a flow of supplies aCross the seas. The war becomes something of a contest 'n l°gistic prowess between the United States and the Vlet Union to see who can send in the most military distance in the shortest time. The winner of that c°ntest may decide the issue. Or perhaps war may be averted altogether if one side’s arsenal grows conspicu-
°Usly digger than the other’s before the shooting begins. 6
In view of the constraints imposed on warfare by world’s nuclear stockpiles, British military historian ^ichael Howard suggests the possibility that land war- are between the nuclear powers may become more a ?atter of posturing and maneuvering than of actual ^ghting, as in the days of pre-Napoleonic strategy. ^aP°leon’s 18th century predecessors were, as Professor °Wafd describes them, "men who had much to lose little to gain from war, who fearfully committed eir forces to battle and maneuvered them cautiously; H^n with limited resources and often a divided public fP’nion within their domains.”5 Their similarities to ners in the nuclear age, if not exact, are close— °ugh for entirely different reasons.
Should posturing become a substitute for fighting, ttiuch the better. The U. S. Marines are masters of
Michael Howard, "Relevance of Traditional Strategy,” Foreign Affairs, January i973j p 26,
both. Their fighting prowess has been amply demonstrated in every war the country has engaged in. Their deterrent effect on the wars that might have been is less easily proven. But in Lebanon in 1958, the Cuban missile crisis of 1962, the recurrent eruptions in the eastern Mediterranean, the continuing strife in Southeast Asia—embarked in amphibious ships and keeping close to the scene of action—they have provided an effective military presence that could not be ignored. Now garrison troops at Fort Campbell, Kentucky, though thousands of miles away, can also become a stabilizing influence in situations like these. So too, in its way, can a line of parked M-48 tanks at a depot in Anniston, Alabama, for airlift has changed the accustomed relationship between distance and time.
Going from 20 knots to 400 is no mere "advance” in mobility but a telescoping of time, a discontinuity with the past that offers commanders much wider flexibility in making decisions and seems to cry out for new approaches to military planning. While jet transports are fast, they do not, in themselves, assure that a movement by air will be either rapid or productive. If troops or equipment fail to load and unload quickly, they might as well go by ship. The longer they take, at any rate, the less their advantage in going by air. To capitalize fully on an air transport fleet, a suitable military stance is required. Designated troops on alert, of course, and supplies packed for shipment— but a great deal more, besides, for wars rarely go according to plan and the unexpected emergency does not announce its specific needs in advance.
The administrative and logistic machinery of the Department of Defense, including all the Services, should be geared to the speed of jets in identifying the people and things actually required, locating them, and moving them to aerial and water ports of embarkation; meanwhile marshaling the air transports and arranging secure flight paths to the point of delivery; and, with no less urgency, assembling the follow-on sealift and making plans to expedite and protect its passage.
Such a stance is difficult to assume and costly to maintain. But if we do adopt it, our strategists and tacticians, and those of our adversaries as well, will have a new range of possibilities to ponder over.