By now we all know the current entries on the Buzzword Bingo sheet: Full spectrum. Transformational. Net-centric ops. The good news is that at least one of the buzz-words is for real. Network-centric operations not only exist, they work. More specifically, network-centric intelligence works all the way to the tactical level. We did it in Carrier Group Three/Battle Force Fifth Fleet during Operation Enduring Freedom, and it worked like a charm.
If we use the RAND Corporation's definition of network-centric operations, "the linking of platforms into one shared awareness network in order to obtain information superiority, get inside the opponent's decision cycle, and end conflict quickly," then network-centric intelligence would entail using network-based technology and tools to provide persistent, interactive intelligence support and shared awareness to decision makers as a key part of that shared awareness network.
As the battle group intelligence officer for the Carl Vinson (CVN-70) Battle Group, my exposure to network-centric tools began when Commander, Carrier Group Three (CCG-3), got tapped to play the Commander, Joint Task Force Staff, in Global 2000 War Game at the Naval War College in August 2000, some six months prior to the Carl Vinson Battle Group's composite training unit exercise. During Global 2000 we got to use some of the latest technology and tools, notably the so-called knowledge wall. The wall was a home-built setup with a dozen small screens, each displaying a Web-based feed from an anchor desk, surrounding two large screens, which could show input from the Web or from tactical displays. Each warfighting and support function—strike, air defense, intelligence, meteorology—had an anchorperson feeding information from that functional area to her or his section of the wall. We used the intelligence anchor desk as an intelligence watch with the Web page on the wall as our reporting vehicle. As we got smarter in the use of the Web, we could link further details and references to the main intelligence page.
By the end of the war game, the CCG-3 team had a good idea of what our boss, Rear Admiral Thomas E. Zelibor, called "the art of the possible." The tools and procedures we used at Global 2000 would form the kernel of our procedures on cruise. And we would move intelligence on the Web.
The intelligence implications of working off the Web were huge. When we started workups for deployment in January 2001, our intelligence team was enthusiastic but inexperienced; those few who had made a cruise were used to sending daily intelligence summaries and spot reports by record message or e-mail, building daily PowerPoint intelligence briefings, and using voice networks to report all tactical activity. But all the staff intelligence personnel and several of the ship and air wing intelligence officers had played in Global 2000, and we began shifting to a network-centric model for providing intelligence to decision makers, training our team to live in Cyberspace.
The training ramp-up was significant. At first we had only a few people who could build and maintain Web pages, but between their efforts and some serious talent borrowed from our reserve unit, we brought our principal watch Standers up to speed by the composite training unit exercise, and kept pushing them from there. By the time we finished the cruise, our junior officers and sailors were so proficient that I had to clamp down on humorous posts to the live Web pages (the modern-day equivalent of midshipmen sky-larking in the rigging).
The equipment, on the other hand, was not a huge investment. Our battle group communications officer took the software used at Global 2000 and installed it on the Carl Vinson as our "front page" to give a common look and feel to the entire CCG-3 secret Internet protocol router network (SIPRNet) Web site. Further pages could be built under the front pages and linked to them. The knowledge wall of Global 2000 became the knowledge Web (KWeb) for CCG-3 and the Carl Vinson Battle Group. All our carrier battle group ships including the submarines had access to the SIPRNet and so could access the Web. Our intelligence team experimented with the information flow through the early part of workups, and by the joint task force exercise that concluded our workups, we had developed procedures for moving intelligence on the Web.
How It Worked
Philosophically, we wanted to move the most time-critical intelligence information the fastest and be certain it was received. Although every ship in our battle group was on SIPRNet, not every ship had the time, inclination, or bandwidth to surf the Web extensively. So the intel team looked for ways to tailor our information flow to get time-critical information to decision makers rapidly and make amplifying information available to those who wanted it. We used voice nets to pass the word about imminent threats, secure chat rooms to get time-sensitive intelligence to tactical action officers (TAOs), and Web pages to make analytical details available to all users.
The force intelligence watch officer (FIWO) is the head of the battle group's all-source intelligence watch located in supplementary plot (Sup-Plot), close to the flag command center. The FIWO used the tactical voice circuit battle group command, copied by all ships' TAOs, to pass indications of an imminent threat, or any other information that required a warfare commander to make an immediate decision, to the carrier battle group. This was a significant departure from common practice, where nearly all intelligence information is passed via this circuit. When routine operational situation reports also were shifted from battle group command to secure chat rooms, the reduction in chatter on this key network was immediate and dramatic. As a consequence, when word was passed on battle group command, everyone listened up, since constant chatter no longer was part of the background noise.
Less time-critical intelligence information moved in chat rooms and on the Web pages. As a matter of policy, every ship in the battle group monitored the key chat rooms as part of her tactical watch. The FIWO and his or her SupPlot team "lived" in multiple chat rooms on both SIPRNet and the top-secret special compartmented information (SCI) network joint worldwide intelligence communication subsystem (JWICS). The main intelligence chat room, CTF (Commander Task Force) 50 Indications and Warning, which carried most intelligence information and discussions, was used by all the battle group intelligence watch slanders and frequently by ships' TAOs as well. The principal operational chat room, BF (Battle Force) 50 TAO Coordination, was populated by all the ships' TAOs, the flag TAO, and the FIWO. The FIWO entered intelligence advisories and quick-look analysis into the TAO chat room, where it was seen immediately by every ship's watch team. The FIWO's ability to chat in real time with every unit in the battle group meant we could move analysis to tactical users very rapidly.
The intelligence pages on KWeb were the rest of the story.
What Went on KWeb
Our battle group used KWeb for planning, briefing, and execution. From an intelligence perspective, this meant that we needed reference material on the Web, we needed current intelligence, and we needed to move fast-breaking information rapidly.
Our watch teams in the carrier intelligence center, SupPlot, and ship's signals exploitation space, already feeding intelligence into voice nets and chat rooms, were also the principal architects of the BF 50 intelligence Web site. We built an extensive series of pages showing current air, naval, and ground activity in Operation Enduring Freedom, as well as political and diplomatic developments. A given page might include graphics, analysis, photographs, maps, and links to further information.
We also built a reference library that gave tactical watch standers quick access to a wide range of intelligence reference data. Say you are, for instance, the TAO on the USS Princeton (CG-59) and see in the TAO chat room that a Pakistani Amazon frigate is under way. A few clicks on the carrier battle group intelligence pages will show you a photo of an Amazon, a line drawing, and her armament, sensor suite, and home base. Forgotten the range of its surface-to-air missile? Click the link, or whisper a quick question to the FIWO in chat, who whispers the answer back. You will know faster than you would from looking it up in a publication.
Several other running reference pages proved highly useful: a current situation report page, constantly updated to show what units were under way or airborne and from where, and a running indications and warning log of everything the FIWO had passed in the TAO room to quickly regain situational awareness for someone coming on watch. A popular reference page was the BF 50 battle damage assessment matrix, with key information for every strike sortie flown by BF 50 assets—aircraft and mission numbers, targets and aim points, pre- and poststrike imagery, and the big crowd pleaser, the weapon system video—all linked to the page. Had theater policy not required us to password-protect this site, we could have sold copies of it and retired off the proceeds.
One thing we did not do was build a lot of graphics. Other people were doing that in the theater headquarters, in their intelligence shops and joint intelligence centers, and in Washington. Instead, we searched out their best sites and linked them to our pages. An important part of our effort was to find useful, relevant information and tailor it for our team. Any graphics we used were converted to html (hypertext markup language, used on Web pages) format—a significant bandwidth saving—and stripped of logos and decorations before they were posted, so they could be pulled rapidly by ships that did not have the bandwidth available on the Carl Vinson.
Obviously, there was a wealth of information available on the Web. Intelligence may be the best example of how far one can take the Web pages, since we had strong, well-trained, and absurdly enthusiastic watch teams updating them around the clock, but all the warfare commanders and their staffs maintained robust sites as well. Information on status, on how we were doing, was available all the time to anyone who wanted it, in the battle group, in Bahrain, or in the United States. So the commander of the air wing, for example, did not need to use the morning meeting to tell the admiral that three jets were down for maintenance; the air wing maintenance officer had updated that section of his page several hours earlier, and the admiral had seen it online. The air wing commander could use the meeting to discuss what impact, if any, there would be to the air plan. I did not need to use the meeting to tell the warfare commanders that Mazar-e-Sharif had been taken; they already knew that from the Web pages, which SupPlot had updated as the information came in. I could click to the Mazare-Sharif section of our Web site during the morning meeting, highlight an activity of interest, and use the Web as a springboard to discuss the likely implications of our current operations, how the Taliban would react to the loss of Mazar-e-Sharif, and what to expect next. As a result, the admiral's briefs turned into tactical discussions and planning and guidance sessions—a relevant use of the formidable brain-power and experience assembled in the war room-versus a venue to disseminate information once a day.
Let me say that last bit again for the benefit of fellow intelligence officers who have spent long hours on the midwatch building slides for the morning brief: In six months of cruise, we never built a single PowerPoint Intel brief. I briefed from the live Web every day, as did all the battle group warfare commanders. An unanticipated benefit from my point of view was that I got my assistant back. With my lieutenant commander assistant relieved of the midwatch brief-building grind, usually the assistant N2's main job, he was free to spend his time in SupPlot, training watch slanders and standing watch himself during the busiest part of the day. Since he also was one of our most capable Webmasters, his expertise was doubly valuable in training the junior watch slanders.
Why It Matters
Network-centric operations are where the Navy is heading, so network-centric intelligence, linked inextricably with operations, is the logical future of intelligence. The extensive use of SIPRNet chat rooms both mirrored and furthered the functionality of the SCI chat rooms that have been in operation for several years on SCI JWICS. These planet-wide chat rooms have enabled real-time sharing of indications and warning information among the SCI watch centers on deployed ships (SupPlot, strike plot in the carrier intelligence center, and the signals exploitation space), theater staffs, intelligence and cryptologic analysts in the theater joint intelligence centers, and national watch centers. The expertise of the community's most experienced analysts is thus available to the operating forces afloat within minutes.
We found this capability particularly valuable in the hectic days after 11 September 2001, when the exponential growth of terrorist-related threat reporting made rapid coordination and deconfliction essential. The FIWO and his watch team, who monitored or participated in multiple chat rooms on JWICS, sanitized the SCI threat warning information for dissemination to the battle force; they also fed organically derived intelligence information back to the national intelligence community on JWICS chat.
The effort to move intelligence more rapidly and seamlessly to the consumer has been under way for a long time. The big joint intelligence centers have been using the classified Web for several years to move products and analysis at the theater level. What we did afloat was to bring the tools and concepts of network-centric intelligence from the theater level to the tactical level, extend the effort laterally to the operators, and increase the timeliness of the flow, bringing a faster and more tightly tailored intelligence feed to the war fighters.
Several of my peers have asked me how I sold my boss on this idea, how I persuaded him to try using these network-centric tools. That was not a problem we had to deal with. Admiral Zelibor, the battle group commander, had seen and used the network-centric tools in the Global 2000 War Game, and wanted them implemented throughout the battle group—for operations, for intelligence, for everything. (As far as I know, no one has asked him how he sold his subordinates on the idea.) But this brings up an important point: you can only go so far with innovation from the bottom up. If the boss still insists on PowerPoint status briefs every morning, you still will be in the PowerPoint business. If the intelligence team wants to maintain Web pages as well, you will have to do the work twice, and the PowerPoint will be out of synch with the live Web 20 seconds after it is made. If your senior decision makers are not receptive to innovative use of technology and tools, you have a challenging sales job ahead of you.
The Results
The Web facilitated moving info to other commands. Commander, Fifth Fleet's staff routinely mined the battle damage assessment matrix for details of air strikes and used the information in our Web site to preempt questions from further up the chain. Many commands of which we were completely unaware pulled info from our pages for their own use. But the main benefit to moving to a network-centric info flow was the dramatic increase in shared awareness throughout the battle group: everyone knew what was going on. Information was available all the time, not just in the morning meeting, and to everyone who wanted it, not just to those who attended the morning meeting. Instead of a once-a-day briefing or intelligence summary, we made current, relevant intelligence available to our team around the clock. In short, we provided persistent intel support.
Captain MacKrell recently completed a tour as assistant chief of staff for intelligence on the staff of Commander, Carrier Group Three, where she served as the intelligence officer for the USS Carl Vinson (CVN-70) Battle Group during Operation Enduring Freedom. She is the officer in charge of the Office of Naval Intelligence Detachment at the Naval War College in Newport, Rhode Island.