Tag Archives: U.S. Navy

What We Can Learn from the Rickover Papers

By Claude Berube, PhD

With nearly a dozen biographies, countless articles, and word-of-mouth stories, Admiral Hyman G. Rickover may be the most written- or talked-about flag officer in US naval history. Can we still learn anything about the man, what he did, or why he did it? Beginning in the 1950s, many authors and publishers approached Rickover about a biography or autobiography – Simon & Schuster, Harper & Row, Naval Institute Press, etc. He rejected them all, wryly noting that “autobiography is only to be trusted when it reveals something disgraceful. A man who gives a good account of himself is probably lying, since life when viewed from the inside is simply a series of defeats.” Dr. Francis Duncan, a historian working for Atomic Energy Commission, eventually wrote two authorized biographies based on more than a decade with Rickover, as recorded in copious notes. Duncan also had the advantage of having access to the most substantive collection of Rickover papers. Rickover was a master of shaping his image; consequently, an authorized, contracted biography with Duncan offered the best opportunity for him to manage that story.

Historian Barbara Tuchman wrote that historians should use primary sources only because secondary sources have already been pre-selected and that one should read two or three versions of any episode to account for bias. Such is the case with every Rickover biography. When in 1983 a columnist from The Washington Post asked Rickover to write a biography, the Admiral explained that he had already compiled volumes of his thoughts and reflections on various subjects over the years and that he did not want to condense them into a book. However, he did allow that perhaps someone else may decide to do that someday. That was what Duncan had access to and is now finally available to researchers.

Retained in Rickover’s Arlington condominium until his second wife Eleonore’s passing in 2021, the collection was bequeathed by her to the US Naval Academy. They were then catalogued and made available in the Nimitz Library’s Special Collections and Archives. Rickover’s papers include personal correspondence, memoranda from meetings with journalists, congressmen, admirals, and presidents, as well as transcripts of telephone conversations and the famed interviews with applicants of the nuclear program. This totals approximately 250 archival boxes, arguably one of the largest collections of any U.S. naval officer.

Perhaps the most insightful and significant papers are the daily letters to and from his first wife Ruth in the decade leading up to the Second World War. This is the real education of Hyman G. Rickover – researchers will learn how he shaped himself and, more importantly, how he was influenced by Ruth.

Researchers will find plenty on the recommendations and behind-the-scenes decision-making of major programs throughout the Cold War, all thanks to Rickover who left such incredibly detailed records. The papers will confirm the mythology and stories about Rickover all these years; but it will also surprise many people. There are other aspects to the man and the officer.

He received thousands of fan mail letters from home and abroad. He was as likely to get a note of thanks from a teacher in Chicago, a student in San Francisco, or a young adult in Ghana, as he would from a member of the Senate Armed Services Committee or president of a major corporation. He was recognizable – he was, for example, one of the few Navy admirals to grace the cover of Time magazine after World War Two and television talk shows sought him out because of his outspokenness and appeal to the broader public.

Rickover’s wide-ranging contacts and interests are reflected in his Rolodex. Contact cards for influential economists John Galbraith (top left) and Milton Friedman (top right) are shown with an entry for the 1981 film Das Boot (bottom).

Rickover succeeded by his intellect. He was driven by curiosity and learning what he did not know. He was a voracious reader even on his early ships and submarines trying to understand the world around him. Among those literally thousands of works were Michael Ossorgin’s Quiet Street, Captain Robert Scott’s letters on his voyage of discovery to the South Pole, Boris Pilnyak’s The Volga Falls to the Caspian Sea, Karl Marx’s Das Capital, and Adolph Hitler’s Mein Kampf. Readers may be surprised that Rickover, a Polish-Jewish emigre, would read this notorious work, however the answer may lie in the fact that Rickover read articles and books not to agree with them but to understand the ideas shaping the world both negatively and positively. Another factor may have been understanding his first wife Ruth’s country of origin better and communicating with her as he saw her as not an intellectual equal but his intellectual superior. Rickover, never one to do anything by halves, taught himself German in order to translate a book on U-Boat tactics.

He faced personal challenges. He was self-aware enough as a junior officer that he could admit to his young wife Ruth his sudden fits of depression and despair and being tormented by the “slough of despond.” He later admitted to his official biographer that he suffered from an inferiority complex. Perhaps these were simply part of what drove him to succeed and surpass his peers in some ways.

Admiral Rickover meets with President Kennedy. (Photo via JFK presidential library and museum)

Rickover held integrity as one of the highest character traits. He could not be compromised. During a meeting with his friend the British Lord Mountbatten, Rickover was offered a knighthood in exchange for an agreement on submarine information, resulting in Rickover returning to the dining room his face “pale with anger.” On their way home, he told his second wife Eleanore the story and concluded with, “Can you believe he didn’t know me any better than this – that I would fall for a knighthood?” True to Eleonore’s nature, she responded, “But I’ll always be a Lady.”

He challenged elitism everywhere – the Navy, large defense contractors, economic classes – likely because he had risen from a childhood of such poverty that his mother could only afford an orange once a year in Poland. He was acutely aware of his role and his destiny in the Navy, not simply as Hyman Rickover, but as someone who had arrived in the United States with nothing and whose religious background might have been an impediment at the time. As he told his biographer and preserved in countless notes made by Duncan, “My job, as I saw it, was to struggle through to the greatest accomplishment of which I was capable, ignoring, as far as possible, my Jewishness. This is not to say that I denied it. What I denied was the power it had to limit self-development, to force me to act humbly, rather than arrogantly, to suffer.”

No factor contributed more to enabling Rickover’s successful career than Congress. A student of history, he realized that the Royal Navy’s Admiral Sir Jackie Fisher made political connections as a young officer and, consequently, it was easier for him to make reforms, a discussion that occurred between Rickover and his friend Lord Mountbatten. He knew how to cultivate support among members – by giving them the information they asked for and having a reputation for efficiency. He was idolized and befriended by members of Congress. Over the course of four decades, he testified before congressional committees more than two hundred times – a record likely unsurpassed by any military officer or civilian.

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Rickover spoke to them in hearings, and in personal conversations, in ways no other military officer could or would dare. He was honest, direct, and, yes, he could entertain them with his sharp wit even in a hearing that would never occur in the 21st century. They loved him for it. They respected his technical expertise, but they also expected and valued his candor. For some, he became their friend “Rick.” Rickover notes attending DC plays with Senator Scoop Jackson and their wives or dining at the home of House Appropriations Chairman Clarence Cannon who played the piano for him. Rickover’s influence, reputation, and relationships with senior congressional leaders was such that he would be called to answer off the record questions or when some members needed help. In one case, Congressman Charles Price wanted to see House Appropriations Chairman Cannon who was not seeing anyone. Price appealed to Rickover to intervene. Cannon, upon Rickover’s request, acceded and met with Price. And it was an intervention by Congress, not the Navy, which would promote him to flag rank.

In his early years as an admiral, the Navy brass and a Secretary of Defense tried to temper Rickover’s influence with Congress to no avail. As one admiral noted after a conference in Monterey of flag officers on the Rickover problem, “there isn’t a damn thing we can do to him or about him, because he’s got the Congress on his side, and we’d just better live with it.”

Most in the U.S. Navy’s submarine community have heard the stories of the famous Rickover interviews, where he would place the midshipmen in uncomfortable situations or berate them to determine how they could respond to adversity, but now aside from the experiences of those young midshipmen, we now have concrete evidence. Actual transcripts of many of those interviews exist in this collection. His reputation was cemented by the famed “interviews” of midshipmen applying – or in many cases told to apply – to the nuclear reactor program. Rickover required some candidates to have their parents or fiancées write letters on their behalf understanding why the midshipman would have to sacrifice time away from them (again, the letters of which are in this collection). Perhaps it was because the Navy had refused Rickover’s own request as a junior officer for a specific billet to accommodate Ruth in her career.

A partial transcript of an interview between Rickover and a nuclear power program candidate.

The interviews, as well as his speeches and memos, make it clear that though he was involved with and promoted technology, he placed a higher value on the humanities. As he questioned the midshipmen, he would discuss history, philosophy, religion, and management and not their technical skills. He writes that he can train anyone for the nuclear program but they had to be able to think and the humanities offered the best grounding for those future officers.

Rickover gave and wrote hundreds of speeches. His first known speech was in 1931 on the topic of the World Court to the Portsmouth, New Hampshire Kiwanis Club. Later that decade he spoke to technical organizations. His speech to a wider audience, “The Importance of Education in the Advancement of our National Resources,” occurred in 1953. Soon after, he was frequently invited to speak to a variety of organizations domestically and internationally. Rickover’s speeches were a breadth of practical, philosophical, and governmental issues: “Thoughts on Man’s Purpose in Life,” “Competency Based Education,” “The Decline of the Individual,” “An Effective National Defense,” “The Meaning of a University,” “Liberty, Science & the Law,” and “A Humanistic Technology” are just a few. On average, he gave at least one speech monthly. Education would be his obsession – in addition to the nuclear navy which he saw as inextricably intertwined.

Retired Vice Admiral Hyman G. Rickover prepares to enter the nuclear-powered attack submarine USS Hyman G. Rickover (SSN 709) for a tour at the conclusion of the ship’s commissioning ceremony. (Photo via U.S. National Archives)

He could be curt, rude, and abusive to officer candidates for the nuclear power program, to the point where the Chief of Naval Operations gently asked him to reconsider his methods. On the other hand, the papers show he could engender such loyalty from his technical and administrative staff that many stayed with him throughout his tenure as he fathered the nuclear navy for three decades. The internal office memos written by Rickover to his staff or his sharp wit to Senators and Members of Congress during congressional hearings are insightful.

People are often more complex than perceptions. The papers clearly demonstrate that Rickover had an unexpected compassionate streak. He helped his staff when they needed to move to a new assignment and would loan them money to purchase a new home; he voraciously wrote get well notes to people he knew, especially if they were children of friends. All the money he made from speeches, articles and books was donated to charities such as orphanages, disabled children societies, CARE, etc. In Shanghai as the Japanese invade China, Rickover stopped to tend to the poor and dying on the streets. One letter is from a young boy named Hyman from California taunted at school for his name and was told by his mother that there was an admiral with the same name. Rickover responded to him, explained to him the history of the name, and gave him advice. In all of this collection, Rickover only signed “H.G. Rickover,” except in this case where his empathy led him to sign his name, “Hyman Rickover.”

These papers represent a new era for understanding Rickover, the Navy, and the nation. These papers should eventually be made public so that Rickover might be known on his own terms and uncensored, even decades after his death. There is more work to be done, and I hope some historians will explore those papers. There are dozens of books to be written and, perhaps someday, a full transcription of all these papers will be completed.

Claude Berube, PhD, is a history professor at the US Naval Academy and former director of the Naval Academy Museum. He and archivist Samuel Limneos edited a volume of a portion of the Rickover papers, Rickover Uncensored, published in October 2023.

Featured Image: Admiral Hyman Rickover. (Photo via Naval History and Heritage Command)

What I Have Learned Teaching Ethics to Midshipmen

By Bill Bray

For nearly three years now, I have taught “Ethics and Moral Reasoning for the Naval Leader” to sophomore midshipmen (“youngsters”) at the U.S. Naval Academy, my alma mater. This is a core requirement for all midshipmen and course instruction is a collaborative effort. One of five philosophers on staff teach ethical theory on Mondays, and in the remaining two classes of each week active-duty or retired officers teach case studies and foster seminar-style discussions.

What I often wonder—and am often asked—is if this formal ethics course at least correlates to better ethical behavior and decision-making by midshipmen and Naval Academy graduates in the fleet. That is the Academy’s stated reason for the course: to “prepare future officers for the difficult moral decisions that they will have to make during their careers.” Otherwise, it would be hard to justify the course as core. Anyone can memorize ethical concepts and become casually familiar with the thinking of some of the greatest ethicists, ancient and modern. Just doing that will make one better at trivia, but it will not make him or her a more ethical leader.

The age-old question of whether virtue can be taught needs no reexamination here. Socrates believed as much, which is good enough for me. The more direct question concerns this course and if it, and similar college-level courses taught elsewhere, does, in the aggregate, produce more ethical leaders. This is not a question that can be definitively answered, given the multitude of factors for which any long-term analysis would have to control, never mind the challenges of collecting valid data. In fact, academic attempts to determine the efficacy of ethical instruction have not been encouraging, although some recent studies have shown some positive effect.

Many valid questions cannot be proven to empirical satisfaction. This is one of them, and merely claiming the course at least cannot hurt is insufficient. It should give these future officers some knowledge about the philosophical tradition of ethics and moral reasoning they did not already have and inspire reflection on how they would navigate ethically fraught situations—those in which the right decision is not immediately clear and require leaders to slow down and deliberately consider all aspects of the situation.

History of the Course

Ethics and Moral Reasoning for the Naval Leader was put into the service academies’ core curriculums following the December 1992 electrical engineering cheating scandal at the Naval Academy by members of the Class of 1994. West Point and the Air Force Academy teach the course to seniors, closer to their commissioning. The Naval Academy teaches it to sophomores on the premise that it is better for them to consider this material before they enter junior year and commit to the minimum service obligation after graduation (referred to as “two-for-seven night”, meaning they have served two years as midshipmen and are committing to seven more years of service—two more as midshipmen and at least five as a commissioned officer).

The 1992 cheating scandal forced some collective introspection among both Navy and Naval Academy military and civilian leaders. After several investigations, all outlined in a January 1994 Naval Inspector General report, ultimately 133 midshipmen were implicated (about 15 percent of the class). Nearly 30 were expelled. It remains the worst cheating scandal since the Academy adopted its Honor Code in 1951. In addition to implementing the Ethics course, following the scandal the Academy revised the Honor Code. Of note, in 2021 the Naval Academy experienced another cheating scandal, this time in Physics, that implicated 105 midshipmen, all sophomores (approximately half were taking the Ethics course at the time they cheated on the Physics final in December 2021; the other half took the course in spring 2022). Twenty-eight were separated.

While the 2021 scandal was disappointing, it did not receive the press coverage the 1994 scandal generated. Yet, it would be fair to ask how this could happen again, especially with midshipmen who were taking the Ethics course at the time. On the other hand, one of the biggest incongruities with the origin of the course and its stated goal (at least since I have taught it) is that it is not designed to prevent midshipmen from cheating on their exams. They should already know not to do this! While the course was borne of an academic cheating scandal, cheating is a clear right-vs.-wrong issue. As such, I do not think the 2021 Physics cheating scandal reflects directly on the course’s purpose or efficacy.

A better measure of the course would be how Naval Academy graduates since the late 1990s have fared in the complex and often ethical gray zones of military operations, particularly combat operations. To prepare midshipmen for the challenge of making the best ethical decisions in these situations, the course must assume midshipmen are not liars and cheaters. No such study exists, however, or probably could exist in the near future.

That leaves only the observations I and others who have taught the course can offer on how midshipmen perform in the course—how they receive and interact with the material, and what that may mean for their future as commissioned officers.

Course Structure

The course includes four blocks of instruction: Moral perception (two weeks), moral deliberation (five weeks), moral excellence (five weeks), and Just War Theory (three weeks). Moral perception concerns how to better recognize morally fraught situations, as they often are not clear initially. This section includes reading on how people from different cultures often view the same issue differently, as religion and culture shape moral perception differently.

During moral deliberation, midshipmen are instructed in a sequential process (roadmap) to navigate decision-making in morally complex situations, including those that include an ethical dilemma. They should consider the following factors in turn: moral constraints, consequences, character/virtue, and special obligations. They are introduced to, among other things, Immanuel Kant’s three formulations of the categorical imperative (moral laws or duties that bind all of us—the due respect, universalization, and mere means tests), common rationalization and socialization strategies people use to justify unethical behavior, Thomas Aquinas’ Doctrine of Double Effect to help determine if a decision with both good and bad consequences should be taken, the concepts of waiving and forfeiting rights, and justice and equity. Case studies include the Abu Ghraib prison scandal in Iraq, collateral damage estimations in bombing missions, and considerations of justice and equity in administering nonjudicial punishment.

Consequential reasoning is introduced next, with some cautionary reminders that even the best consequential outcomes cannot override clear moral constraints. Among the cases studied, the midshipmen read commentary on the mid-2000s U.S. debate surrounding the use of enhanced interrogation (torture) techniques on unlawful combatants (today’s midshipmen had barely been born yet). The special obligations discussion includes voluntary and involuntary special obligations and a reading on Constitutional ethics—what the oath really requires in terms of balancing one’s duty with personal views and beliefs. Critically, how an officer should resolve a conflict between his or her deeply held personal belief (conscience) if they find it in conflict with the requirement to follow a legal order.

Character and virtue deserve their own four-week block. When the scope of the 1992 cheating scandal became apparent, some contended the root of the problem rests with American society—it was producing less ethical midshipmen. This claim is unprovable, and always struck me as reactionary and a version of buck-passing. The bulk of this block focuses on how to cultivate virtue (for Aristotle virtue [excellence] involved knowledge and habit, with a heavy emphasis on habit—virtuous people repeatedly do virtuous things). The midshipmen are reminded that in considering how to make the best ethical decision in a difficult situation, they should think beyond just what is technically acceptable to how the decision will reflect on their character in the long term. How do they want to be remembered? No one thinks of virtue as a transactional or transitory trait. When we think of virtuous people to emulate, we do not think they are virtuous at certain times but not others, or in certain situations and not in others.

Just War Theory—what is commonly referred to now as the traditional theory—include the principles of Jus ad Bellum (justice of war) and Jus in Bello (justice in war). The history of U.S. warfare presents countless case studies for this section, both good and bad. This may seem rather elementary to a college philosophy major, but hardly any midshipmen were introduced to just war concepts in high school and moreover will be far more likely to put philosophical theory into professional practice.

Three Types of Ethics Students

In addition to being asked about the course, Naval Academy graduates from my generation (around my 1988 class) often ask my general impression of the midshipmen today. The question is often, though not always, freighted with generational bias, the implication being that today’s midshipmen are not as tough, not as patriotic, etc. I find no evidence of this, however. On the contrary, I find the quality as high as ever. These are some of the best and brightest young men and women the nation has to offer.

That said, while most of my students have been excellent as far as completing the coursework and writing good exams, they vary when it comes to what they bring to the class in terms of genuine interest and engagement. To broadly frame this variety, I can identify each student I have taught into one of three types: a cynic, a calculator, or a seeker.

Cynics comprise, thankfully, a small group, but I have had at least one in each section. Cynics believes the Ethics course is largely a waste of time. Ethical decision-making is mostly common sense, and midshipmen either have that or they do not. Cynics do the minimum amount of course reading and only superficially participate in class discussions. Cynics do not seem to appreciate the fact, demonstrated repeatedly in case studies, that good officers regularly fail to recognize ethical blind spots in making weighty decisions. They are convinced that will never be them.

Calculators form the next biggest group, although still slightly in the minority (again, thankfully). Calculators are transactional students—what do I need to do to get an A in this course? Calculators do more of the reading and participate more regularly in class discussions. But they tend to do so less out of a genuine interest in the material, and more in the interest of checking the boxes needed to get the highest grade possible. They want the discussion to give them the “right” answers to ethical dilemmas, so they can deliver them back on tests and papers. The process of working out the best decision in ethical gray areas is far less important than knowing what the right answer is. Calculators occasionally ask for their papers to be reviewed in draft form, to see if they are indeed “on the right track.” They prefer short, discrete exam questions to long essays that are scored heavily on how they apply what they have learned in thinking through the problem. They often give feedback that the course is graded too harshly. If they can get an A in an engineering class, there is no way they should get anything less in an Ethics course.

Seekers are the best students, although they do not always get the best grade. They are less concerned with their grade-point average and class standing and far more with the immense leadership challenges they will face in just a few short years. They read well. They bring great energy and curiosity to the class discussions. They are not afraid to speak their minds on sensitive topics. They are humble before the awesome responsibility that awaits them. They appreciate that Ethics is not a science. There is rarely certainty. There is almost always complexity and ambiguity. They recognize their chosen profession will demand nothing less than their best judgment.

I have enjoyed the privilege of teaching and knowing all my students, but the seekers keep me coming back. I cannot wait to get to class to hear their thoughts on a reading assignment or a video shown in class. Their papers are not pro forma—they often read as if the student is bearing the burden of the choice herself. Seekers are reflective and thoughtful. Many are deeply faithful. All respect different viewpoints and backgrounds, religious and secular. Much more than wanting to avoid mistakes, seekers want to be better.

This three-tiered classification is hardly rigorous and certainly not set in cement. Some students display characteristics of a seeker and a calculator. Many will (hopefully) grow, and with maturity become seekers. Some will experience an ethical “close call” as a young officer and find in it an epiphany they take to heart in becoming seekers. Regardless of the journeys these midshipmen take, all will face difficult ethical choices as officers. Some will be of the life-and-death variety. Many will be immensely consequential, especially for those who choose to make the Navy or Marine Corps a career and ascend to command.

Whether better studies someday shed more light on the efficacy of ethics instruction, I believe the Naval Academy’s Ethics course reinforces the seekers and plants seeds for growth in the other students. Someday, in the crucible, these future officers will have to rely on their knowledge and character to make the best decision in an agonizing situation. When that moment comes, they are on their own.

Bill Bray is a retired Navy captain. He is an adjunct professor at the U.S. Naval Academy.

Featured Image: ANNAPOLIS, Md. (May 18, 2020) The United States Naval Academy holds the fourth swearing-in event for the Class of 2020. (U.S. Navy photo by Kenneth D. Aston Jr/Released)

Depth from Above: Reinventing Carrier ASW

By Ben DiDonato

With the return of great power competition, the threat posed by hostile submarines has garnered renewed attention. Russia’s submarine fleet in particular has been regarded as a serious threat for decades and its latest SSNs are reportedly nearly as quiet as their American counterparts. Similarly, while China’s nuclear submarines have yet to reach this level, China’s access to Russian technology, rapid improvements in other areas, and capacity for mass production suggest it is likely to become a serious threat in the relatively near future. Furthermore, while SSNs are obviously the most serious threat due to their range and speed, diesel submarines cannot be overlooked, with many highly lethal designs widely distributed across the globe. In order to compete effectively against near-peer states armed with these submarines, the United States Navy must have the ability to find, track, and sink them.

As in the Cold War, anti-submarine warfare (ASW) is a challenging area of operations, requiring close cooperation between a wide variety of assets to win what would inevitably be a worldwide campaign. This problem was thoroughly studied and, at least in broad strokes, solved by the end of the Cold War, so this strategy provides a useful guide. That review immediately reveals a critical weakness in current American force structure. Submarines and maritime patrol aircraft are still available for independent hunting, surface combatants for close screening, and helicopters for prosecuting targets, but since the retirement of the S-3 Viking, the U.S. Navy has lacked an organic aircraft for initial detection of submarines approaching the aircraft carrier.

The current stopgap solution is pressing the land-based P-8 Poseidon into this role, but that is far from ideal. Tying P-8s to carriers largely squanders their capabilities, preventing the limited supply of these aircraft from doing their real job of patrolling broad stretches of ocean and protecting other ships. Furthermore, relying on land-based support imposes serious constraints on the carrier strike group, which must operate within range of the P-8 and would almost certainly suffer from periods of vulnerability.

This means the current lack of fixed-wing carrier-based ASW capability should be addressed to provide the required coverage without distracting the P-8 force. While there has been some discussion of reactivating the S-3 Viking to restore this capability, that can only ever be a stopgap measure due to the age of the airframes. A long-term solution is needed to restore fixed-wing ASW capability, and fiscal reality demands this solution be flexible and affordable. Rather than build a new dedicated ASW aircraft, it may be better to instead develop a series of ASW pods and a more flexible aircraft suitable for both ground attack and ASW since either type of store can be carried on the pylons with equal ease.

Podded ASW Systems

A minimum of four specialized systems are required to support fixed-wing ASW: a Magnetic Anomaly Detector (MAD), a sonobuoy dispenser, a sonobuoy receiver, and an air-droppable lightweight torpedo. The Mk 54 torpedo already meets the offensive needs on other aircraft, so it should not require substantial modification to fill this role. Similarly, a sonobuoy dispenser is such a simple system that it does not require explanation beyond pointing out that it would ideally come in a variety of sizes for different aircraft/pylons and have variants which incorporate a sonobuoy receiver to minimize pylon consumption.

Therefore, the only system which requires major development is the MAD pod. To enable normal aircraft operation, particularly safe takeoff and landing, this pod would almost certainly need to use a towed MAD rather than the more common boom-mounted system. This would allow the sensor to be trailed a sufficient distance behind the aircraft when needed and retracted when not in use.

Of course, this podded approach is also ideally suited to incorporating future systems as they become available. A wide variety of unmanned systems and new weapons are in development or have been proposed, and all of them could easily be integrated as additional pods. Whether new payloads for sonobuoy dispensers, a single large UAV/UUV on a pylon, some new cluster system, or a novel idea not yet conceived, stuffing it in a pod and hanging it from an existing aircraft will always be faster and cheaper than trying to cram it into an existing airframe, assuming that is even possible. Therefore, while this approach provides an easy path for incorporating future technologies, the four proven systems discussed above can be immediately developed into an effective ASW capability and should be the short-term priority.

In order to provide an affordable near-term capability and maximize long-term utility, both the MAD and sonobuoy pods should be compatible with the new MQ-25 Stingray UAV. In conjunction with the current MH-60R, this would provide a limited standoff detection, prosecution, and engagement capability to the carrier which could be further supplemented by F/A-18s carrying torpedoes, MAD pods, and additional sonobuoys to engage submarines if needed. While this combination is certainly suboptimal, especially considering the problems caused by using F/A-18s as tankers, the MQ-25 would truly come into its own as an ASW platform once the new fixed-wing aircraft proposed below enters service and can use it as a loyal wingman to greatly improve coverage or direct MQ-25 wolfpacks to aggressively prosecute contacts.

A Pod-Carrying Aircraft

Unfortunately, this pod-based approach to ASW is fundamentally incompatible with the S-3 airframe. It cannot carry the number and variety of pods or ground attack weapons required on its two underwing hardpoints, especially when we consider future podded systems. Although its weapons bays contain another four hardpoints, their internal placement would likely interfere with the operation of most pods. Remediating this deficiency by adding new pylons in a major refit is likely impractical due to interference from the under-wing engines. The integrated nature of the S-3’s ASW systems also prevents it from using much of its payload capacity for non-ASW missions. It is simply not possible to replace these fixed systems with ground attack or anti-ship weapons when using the aircraft in other roles, leaving it limited to only six weapons hardpoints for these missions.

Shifting to the budgetary side, integrated systems are generally more expensive to maintain and upgrade than podded systems. Furthermore, the Navy presumably lacks the resources to operate both integrated and podded systems, likely costing the carrier air wing the flexibility to task non-ASW aircraft with ASW missions. Budgetary pressures also make this alternate role critical because the S-3 probably would have survived the global war on terror if it doubled as a low-cost ground attack platform. Therefore, long-term use of the S-3 would be costly and inflexible, so a new solution is needed.

The obvious solution is a completely new aircraft. While this is certainly an option and would presumably produce an excellent aircraft with plenty of capacity, numerous pylons, and a low operating cost, there are two major problems with it. The first is that going through the full development and adoption cycle would take a very long time, likely more than could realistically be covered by a stopgap S-3 reactivation. The second is that major projects like this are politically challenging, with a serious risk of cancelation – assuming they get started at all. While it may be possible to overcome these issues, they are serious enough to merit an examination of alternative options.

The most obvious alternative is to adapt an existing carrier aircraft to take on the role. Within the current carrier air wing, there are two possible airframes, the E-2/C-2, and the V-22.

The E-2/C-2 would obviously make an excellent mono-mission platform since it is already configured to carry a large support crew. However, that same large crew would limit its payload and make risking it in other roles like ground attack unappealing. The only other role it could realistically take on is general airborne drone control, but this can already be performed by the E-2 and fighters so there seems to be little value here, especially since these aircraft can also relay drone datalinks to surface ships. While none of this detracts from an E-2/C-2 derivative’s ability to take on the mission, it does mean it fails to realize the additional flexibility promised by this podded approach, so a different platform is preferable.

The V-22, or more accurately the CMV-22B, may be a better candidate. The ability to transition to helicopter mode would be useful for prosecuting targets, and its unsuitability to ground attack is less of an issue since it is already a cargo aircraft, although the flipside of that is that is that there is less leeway to retask between these two missions than between ASW and ground attack. Unfortunately, payload integration may be an issue, both due to questions about retrofitting pylons on the rotating wing assembly and its more limited digital backbone, and overall external stores capacity would likely be limited after the necessary upgrades based on published payload and range figures. Therefore, while it is certainly worth performing a more detailed study to better understand the true costs, capabilities, and limitations of an ASW V-22 variant, it also seems suboptimal for this pod-based approach.

The final alternative is adapting a land-based aircraft for naval service. While there have certainly been serious problems adapting aircraft in the past, there have also been notable successes like the YF-17’s evolution into the F/A-18 family and the SH-60 family’s decent from the Army’s UH-60. Furthermore, the C-130 famously proved able to operate from the USS Forrestal without modification, and based on a recent interview with the pilot, the flying seems to have been fairly straightforward. While the C-130 itself is obviously too big for regular deck handling, this success strongly implies any aircraft designed to operate from short/rough airfields would be an excellent candidate for marinization, especially with a Super Hornet-style redesign.

There are too many aircraft to go through individually, but desired capabilities narrow the field to a smaller slate. The ideal aircraft would be small enough to operate from a carrier, have short/rough field capability, good payload, plenty of pylons, good fuel efficiency, low maintenance requirements, and excellent handling at low speed and altitude. While most aircraft cannot meet this challenging set of desires, there is one candidate suitable for adaptation into a pod-based multirole ASW aircraft. Not only does this aircraft meet all these desires, but it also has an exceptional ground attack record, proven flexibility in other roles like counter-Fast Attack Craft/Fast Inshore Attack Craft (counter-FAC/FIAC) and combat search and rescue support, and, most importantly, very strong political support to carry the program through budget battles. This aircraft is, of course, the A-10.

The SA-10D Seahog

With an A-10 variant identified as the best option for carrying ASW pods, considering both capability and timeline, we now turn our attention to a brief discussion of what that would look like. The most likely approach is a redesign comparable to the Hornet’s “upgrade” to the Super Hornet because that allows any necessary changes to be incorporated relatively easily. That said, the A-10’s unusually simple airframe may allow boneyard aircraft to be modified for service, even if only as prototypes or a wartime contingency, so that possibility will be discussed here as well. Of course, the program office is not obligated to pick just one option. They could develop both a modification package and a new-build design to improve the competition and provide maximum value to the taxpayer.

Since this aircraft will be largely optimized for affordably hauling underwing stores as a byproduct of this pod-based approach to ASW, that payload can be used in a variety of other roles beyond the obvious close air support. This could entail utility duties like backup tanking, combat support roles like standoff missile carrier, and majority Air Force missions like laying Quickstrike sea mines to further support the rest of the air wing, increase the carrier’s flexibility, and improve the lethality of the joint force.

One other intriguing advantage of using the A-10 as a baseline for the ASW pod carrier is that its short/rough field performance suggests it may be possible to fly it from smaller, simpler ships like amphibs, especially if thrust reversers are added. This would give the joint force the ability to rapidly build new ASW hunter-killer groups if needed and could give the Marines an alternate air support option for amphibious operations if desired. Similarly, this would allow commercial ships to be converted into useful escort carriers in wartime, freeing purpose-built carriers for frontline duties. Finally, this would open up the ability to fly from smaller dedicated aircraft carriers and, while it seems unlikely the United States would build any, a number of its allies operate CVLs and may be interested in acquiring these SA-10Ds to provide organic ASW capability and additional strike capacity to their own carriers.

From a programmatic standpoint, using a few minimally modified A-10A’s from the boneyard could serve to reduce risk and accelerate introduction by entering flight testing prior to delivery of the first full prototype, although this is obviously not required. Most usefully, up to three aircraft could be modified to add a second seat for the ASW systems operator and at least simulated electronics to demonstrate operational effectiveness and begin developing tactics and procedures for the fleet ahead of delivery. The other, less important, conversion would validate performance and carrier suitability by adding a new launch bar and a strengthened arresting hook to a single aircraft.

Naturally, the subject of airframe modification entices interest, so we will now move into a brief exploration of the most interesting changes and options, although basics like more modern engines will be omitted. That said, it is critical to bear in mind that this SA-10D concept is fully dependent on the previously discussed podded systems for ASW operations, so those systems are more important than anything discussed here even though this section will likely generate more discussion.

First and most importantly, the aircraft must have a second seat like the old YA-10B prototype. Modern computers should allow a single person to manage all the ASW equipment instead of the multiple operators required on the S-3, as well as direct any supporting drones, but there is no way the pilot would be able to handle that workload on top of flying the aircraft. It should also be noted that this second crewmember can be swapped for another specialist such as a forward air controller when required for the mission at hand, further improving the air wing’s flexibility. Therefore, whether this is a conversion of old airframes or a new build, a single seat is simply unworkable for the mission.

Closely related to this is electronics. To reduce development costs and streamline maintenance, it is strongly recommended that the F-35’s electronics be reused as close to wholesale as possible. The A-10’s simple airframe should make it relatively easy to integrate these systems, especially if it is a new-build variant, and the commonality would bring new capability and simplify future upgrades. Beyond providing a digital backbone to host the ASW systems, this would make the SA-10D a potent networked shooter by hauling large numbers of long-range missiles and seamlessly communicating with F-35Cs further forwards. This could be further exploited by a new-build aircraft which would likely be larger to further increase capacity and could add dedicated AIM-9X sidewinder rails to provide defensive fire against hostile aircraft.

Folding wings would not ordinarily merit separate discussion because it is obvious a new-build aircraft would include them and that the A-10’s straight wings will allow a dramatic width reduction, but the modification of existing airframes is unusual enough to merit special attention. Unlike most aircraft, the A-10 only carries fuel in its inner wing and is designed with very simple, robust structures with extensive left/right interchangeability. This means the A-10 is in the unusual situation of being able to easily accept folding wings in an upgrade, so modified boneyard aircraft are a feasible option even though they were never intended to operate from carriers.

Of course, any time the A-10 comes up, its gun is a major discussion point so it must be addressed here even if it is not relevant to ASW. Unfortunately, while the GAU-8 has given excellent service, it would almost certainly have to be abandoned for marinization in favor of the F-35’s 25mm GAU-22. While the resulting commonality would streamline shipboard logistics, this change is primarily driven by the fact that the GAU-8’s mounting forces the nose wheel off-center on the A-10, which is unacceptable for catapult launch and results in asymmetric turning circles which may complicate deck handling. One potential upside to this change is that it allows an increase in total stowed ammunition and possibly even the installation of a second gun if desired. This could extend the effective range of the weapon by firing enough explosive rounds to effectively saturate the larger dispersion area, potentially allowing the gun(s) to be effective in the counter-FAC/FIAC role from beyond the range of any man-portable air defense systems they may carry.

The A-10’s armor is similarly a regular point of discussion, although in this case there is no clear answer to be had. If old -A models were to be modified for this new role, it would likely prove more practical to simply leave the armor in place even if it is not particularly useful for the aircraft’s new role since it is integrated into the load-bearing structure. Of course, a new build would not face this restriction, so the armor would almost certainly be omitted to save weight. However, modern materials could allow some level of protection to be retained without much of a weight penalty if desired. Ultimately, the details would have to be worked out between the contractors and the program office, so a definitive answer cannot be given here.

One final exotic option for a new-build aircraft is to integrate a laser weapon to shoot down incoming missiles, or at least provide room for one to be added in the future. The technical risks and costs of this are obvious, but with laser weapons entering service and rapidly maturing, it should at least be considered.

Conclusion

As has been shown, the critical vulnerability left by the retirement of the S-3 can be rapidly and affordably filled to ensure the carrier’s survivability against submarines, and by extension its relevance in great power competition or war. A series of podded sensors would allow the MQ-25 and current aircraft to provide some ASW capacity, while a new SA-10D Seahog can be rapidly developed to fully fill the ASW gap using those podded systems and improve the flexibility of the carrier air wing.

Ben DiDonato is a volunteer member of the NRP-funded LMACC team lead by Dr. Shelley Gallup. He originally created what would become the armament for LMACC’s baseline Shrike variant in collaboration with the Naval Postgraduate School in a prior role as a contract engineer for Lockheed Martin Missiles and Fire Control. He has provided systems and mechanical engineering support to organizations across the defense industry from the U.S. Army Communications-Electronics Research, Development and Engineering Center (CERDEC) to Spirit Aerosystems, working on projects for all branches of the armed forces.

Featured Image: An air-to-air front view of three S-3A Viking aircraft from Air Anti-submarine Squadron 31 (VS-31) as they pass over the USS DWIGHT D. EISENHOWER (CVN-69) (Photo by PH3 Houser, via U.S. National Archives)

A New DESRON Staff – Beyond the Composite Warfare Commander Concept

By Bill Shafley

A destroyer squadron (DESRON) staff’s employment as a Sea Combat Commander in the Composite Warfare Commander (CWC) construct is unnecessarily narrow and prevents a more lethal and agile strike group. Tomorrow’s fight requires multiple manned, trained, and certified command elements. These elements should be capable of maneuvering and employing combat power. This combat power is required to support area-denial operations, assure the defense of a high-value unit, or conduct domain-coordinated advance force operations to sanitize an operating area in advance of the main body. This ability to diffuse command and control, disperse combat power, and contribute to sea control operations is imperative to fully realize the Distributed Maritime Operations (DMO) concept.

The Fight

The carrier battle groups (CVBGs) of the Cold War evolved into the carrier strike groups (CSG) of today. The components of the CWC organization did as well. The CWC organization evolved into managed defense of a high-value unit to preserve the capability of the carrier air wing (CVW). A destroyer squadron staff embarked on a Spruance-class destroyer managed multiple surface action groups (SAGs) and search and attack units (SAUs). They managed a kill chain designed to prevent submarines and surface ships equipped with anti-ship cruise missiles from ever entering their weapons release lines. As the anti-submarine warfare commander, they also managed the up-close defense of the carrier through assigning screening units and maneuvering the force as necessary to defend the ship and the air wing.

As the CVBG evolved into the CSG of today, the offensive and defensive missions were merged into one. The DESRON Staff was employed as the sea combat commander. The staff left the ships and embarked on the carrier. As maritime forces operated in support of land campaigns with precision fires far afield in mostly benign waters, defense of the CVN as a sortie generation machine became a primary mission. The carrier defense problem could be managed with one or two multi-mission cruisers or destroyers because the mission was generally limited to confined strait transits, managing a layered defense against fast attack craft, and establishing airspace control. The remainder of cruiser and destroyer offensive capability was chopped about between in-theater task force commanders to meet additional missions of interest, namely maritime interdiction and critical maritime infrastructure defense, and support to security cooperation plans. Near the conclusion of deployment, the strike group elements rejoined and went home together. This evolution has been fit for purpose over the last 25 years, but no longer.

The fight of tomorrow looks more like the fight planned for during the Cold War, with one major difference. China’s blue water fleet is quickly becoming more capable than the Soviet fleet ever was. Consequently, the wartime employment of tomorrow’s CSG must focus more on offensive employment in sea control operations while also facing greater threats. These operations are uniquely maritime as they are focused on the destruction of an enemy fleet and its components that may impact the United States Navy’s ability to operate with superiority. Commanders in this environment manage scarce resources (see fig 1) to establish and maintain a kill chain while assuring adequate defense. A CSG must fight into an environment, survive, exploit sea control, and be prepared to move and establish it again; perhaps multiple times. Each CSG, with the CVN, its air wing, the fires resident in the VLS tubes of the DDGs, needs to be preserved as a fighting unit in order to generate the combat power necessary to achieve sea control while assuring its survivability through subsequent engagements.

The defense of the carrier must now be balanced with the work necessary to survive as a complete task-organized force. The greater the demand for sea control in time and space, and the greater the enemy force contesting sea control, the more offensive firepower will be required to neutralize the enemy and establish sea control. At the same time, this enemy force may also out-range many of the CSG’s weapons, might shoot first, and will shoot back. This threat environment increases the requirement for defensive firepower. This is a conundrum for the traditional approach. As the DMO concept suggests, disaggregation of the CSG is driven now by lethality and survivability.

Fig. 1: Establishing and maintaining sea control is a balance between resources and time. Planning for and employing forces in this environment requires new thinking. See the author’s piece at: https://cimsec.org/new-forms-of-naval-operational-planning-for-earning-command-of-the-seas/

 As the above graphic notes, this tactical problem is far more complex than one of classic CVBG defense. Establishing sea control requires an optimized balance between offense and defense. This dilemma poses interesting questions. How much of the combat power of a CSG is left behind in defense? How much of it is committed to strike hard and win the war at sea? How is the offense commanded and controlled? Is there adequate command element (CE) depth to manage the CWC defense in one area and hunt/kill in another? What is the nature of the CE for these missions? Where should the CE be embarked for greatest effectiveness? How robust is it? What is the duration of the mission? The DMO concept requires command elements that, through the use of mission command can control all facets of sea control operations (to include logistics), in communications denied environments and at scale.

Today’s CSG commander lacks command and control options to address these questions. A differently manned, trained, and employed DESRON staff could provide this flexibility. This staff is at its core a command element. It could be ashore working for the numbered fleet commander as a combined task force (CTF) commander one week, embarked on a command platform the next week, and on the carrier the week after that. It might even be dispersed to all of those at once and with multiple units under tactical control (TACON). This flexibility gives higher echelon commanders multiple employment options as they consider how to delegate their command and control to meet mission needs. However, the DESRON of today is not manned, trained, or certified to be employed in this manner.

Manning Concept

The proposed command element would require watch standers and planners, including enough subject matter experts to plug into multiple battle rhythm events. The command element would have cells for current operations (COPS), future operations and plans (FOPS), information warfare (IW), and readiness. It would be manned to provide a six-section watchbill, a distinct and separate planning team, an IW cell and readiness monitoring team that would coordinate with fleet logistics and maintenance support for assigned ships. The six-section watchbill requirement would afford the staff enough personnel to split and establish command and control in two different locations for missions as assigned. This staff size is roughly equivalent to current DESRON manpower levels (40-45 personnel). Its makeup in terms of subject matter expertise is more tailored to the Sea Control mission set.

This new DESRON staff would be manned as follows:

Fig. 2: Staff Manning Construct reflects subject matter expertise for planning and watchstanding functions

Training Concept

This command element should be educated and trained to apply joint warfighting functions with multi-domain maritime resources to establish, execute, and maintain a kill chain in an assigned geographic area. This is a robust capability that can be brought to bear in defense of high value units, in intelligence preparation of the battlefield, in surveillance and counter surveillance, or in direct action against enemy surface and subsurface units.

This organization is led by a major command selected captain (O6) surface warfare officer. This officer should have significant tactical experience in command as a commander (O5), have received a Warfare Tactics Instructor certification, and/or graduated from an advanced in-residence planner course (Maritime Advanced Warfighting School, School of Advanced Air and Space Studies, School of Advanced Warfighting, School of Advanced Military Studies). Experience on squadron, strike group, or fleet staffs would also be beneficial. The chief staff officer would be an O5, post-command officer of similar qualification. Service as the chief staff officer should be viewed as a career enhancing opportunity in the 5 years between O5 command and O6 major command. The leadership of this team would be rounded out by a billeted and selected command master chief.

Officers assigned to the staff should be proven shipboard operators in the all the major warfare areas. They should be qualified as ASW Evaluators and Shipboard Tactical Action Officers. Four post-department surface warfare officers would be assigned to the staff. They would serve as lead officers for current operation (COPs), future operations and plans (FOPs), training, and readiness, and serve staggered 24 month tours. Officers would follow an assignment track within these billets to afford experience in all four jobs, culminating as COPs or FOPs. These leaders should be post-department head officers eligible and competitive for command at sea.

There would be four post-division officer tour officers assigned to this staff structure. These would be qualified as surface warfare officers and served as an Anti-Submarine Warfare Officers/Evaluators, Tomahawk Engagement Control Officers, and/or hold Warfare Coordinator Qualification. These officers would be selected for department head and due course, that is, competitive for further advancement. All of these officers would attend the Staff Watch Officer, Joint Maritime Tactics Course, Maritime Staff Officer’s Course, and specialty schools as necessary. Officer who trained with foreign navies at their principal warfare officer courses and planning courses would also be sought after to bring Coalition Integration to bear.

There would be 3 senior chiefs and 8 chief petty officers permanently assigned to this staff. The senior chief petty officers (SCPOs) would be from the ratings of Sonar Technicians, Operations Specialists, and Information Systems Technicians each would have successfully completed shipboard leading chief petty officer (LCPO) tours. They should respectively hold advanced Navy Enlisted Classifications in the ASW field, achieved senior-level air controller qualifications, and hold Communication Watch Officer and associated computer network management credentials. Assigned LCPOs in rates depicted would provide technical and watchstanding expertise in their rate. All SCPO and CPOs would complete the STWO/JMTC course work and additional rate specific training. The remaining enlisted sailors would be first or second class petty officers (E6/E5), and trained as watchstanders to support the 6 section watchbill and planning cell.

This staff would include support from additional warfare communities. The IW cell would be comprised of a lieutenant commander (O4) maritime space officer and a lieutenant (O3) intelligence officer. The IW community would provide a lieutenant commander (O4) Information Professional officer to manage communications requirements for this rapidly-deployable team. The team would be rounded out with the addition of two aviators: an MH-60R pilot and a P-8A naval flight officer. Their experience would be crucial in planning and for watchstander assistance during training and operations.

Certification Process

The proposed DESRON staff would be assigned to the Carrier Strike Group commander for administrative purposes. The DESRON staff would follow the Carrier Strike Group’s optimized fleet response plan (OFRP) progression (i.e., maintenance phase, basic phase, advanced phase, integrated phase, deployment, and sustainment phase). The staff would be deployable from deployment through the end of sustainment phase, and its qualifications would lapse as the CSG entered the maintenance phase.

Over the course of the OFRP maintenance phase, the staff would go through a personnel turnover period, to include key leadership. The primary purpose of this phase would be to establish the staff’s training plan. The WTIs would tailor the staff training plan based upon lessons learned from previous employment and potential future assignments. This training plan would incorporate the latest in tactical developments and experimentation. Furthermore, participation in table top exercises, Naval Warfare Development Command wargames, and Fleet 360 programs would be included. This training plan would be approved by the Surface and Mine Warfighting Development Center (SMWDC) and enacted by the appropriate tactical training group (Atlantic or Pacific), the Naval War College, and various warfare development commands.

The staff’s basic phase would mirror a ship’s in length and complexity by field. Staff WTIs, along with the appropriate tactical training group, would craft scenarios that build in complexity and the amount of integration with the individual cells. The staff would benefit from staff rides to all of the warfare development centers, and significant time at the tactical training group to learn cutting edge tactics, techniques, and procedures and capabilities and limitations. Through the use of live, virtual, and constructive training tools, the staff would train to the Plan, Brief, Execute, De-brief (PBED) standard in stand-alone work before gradually integrating the staff. The DESRON commander would focus on crafting intent, planning guidance, and risk assessment. The IW Cell would conduct Intelligence Preparation of the Operating Environment, the planners learn the effective use of base plans, branches, and sequels, and the watch standers would execute these in scenario work. The basic phase would culminate with the entire staff certifying over a week long exercise where the team operates in a higher headquarters battle-rhythm driven environment and is certified to a basic standard by Tactical Training Group Atlantic or Pacific (TTGL/P).

The advanced phase would begin with the DESRON staff executing Surface Warfare Advanced Tactics and Training (SWATT) at-sea with SMWDC mentors with live ships, submarines, and aircraft. This exercise mimics the training conducted during the basic phase. In this program, the staff embarks a platform and integrates with the assigned ships and operates at-sea introducing frictions not seen in the live, virtual, or constructive environment. Watch sections and planning teams would be assessed again in-situ and performance assessed to assure continued development. The SMWDC senior mentor would then recommend advanced certification to the certifying authority. If practical, the staff should embark aboard the CVN with the CSG for Group Sail (GRUSL) for additional training opportunity prior to the pre-deployment Composite Training Unit Exercise (COMPTUEX, or C2X).

The COMPTUEX would remain the final hurdle in integrated training leading to deployment certification. Over the course of the 6 weeks at-sea, the staff would have to demonstrate its capability in integrating into the CSG battle rhythm and demonstrate watch stander acumen in increasingly complex live exercise (LIVEX) evolutions.

During the COMPTUEX, the DESRON Staff would have to demonstrate its capability to act as a CTF commander afloat, both on the CVN and embarked in a smaller unit with assigned units. It must demonstrate the capability to conduct “split-staff” operations at a remote site ashore. In each of these instances, the staff must demonstrate its capability to establish C2 of assigned units for mission effect, control operations effectively, and integrate into a higher headquarters battle-rhythm.

Satisfactorily assessed in these areas, the staff would be certified to deploy. During deployment, it would be employed flexibly and with optionality based upon the tactical situation and the desired effects from commanders at-echelon. As the CSG heads over the horizon, the DESRON staff could participate in fleet battle problems (FBP) and coalition-led exercises to test and validate a whole range of new tactics, techniques, procedures, doctrine, and interoperability. As FBPs continue to develop and live, virtual and constructive training tools come on line, the chance to “fail fast” in this space only increases.

Employment Concept

The proposed tactical DESRON could be employed across a wide range of operations supporting Carrier Strike Groups, Amphibious Ready Groups, and fleet commanders. Mission and associated tasks drive span of control in terms of assigned ships, aircraft, and additional resources. As a task organized, employed, and expeditionary staff, its main value prospect would be its flexibility.

Manned, trained, and certified during the intermediate and advance training phases, the command element’s normal mode of operation would be embarked aboard a command ship. Employed to protect a command ship, it would be capable of exercising warfare commander duties in a strike group/CWC environment with up to five assigned ships. While its primary missions would remain anti-surface and anti-submarine warfare, it could augment or establish additional warfare area support (Integrated Air and Missile Defense or Information Warfare) in any surface combatant. Employed as a scouting force further afield in the assigned operating areas, a portion of the staff may embark detached assets to afford command control and transition scouting missions into local maritime superiority missions. Employed as a task force commander, it may disperse further and move ashore with a local fleet commander to oversee operations over a broader area. Though this employment method would be more taxing on the staff, it might be required for short durations of high operational tempo. With basic manning and training levels achieved, the command element could be employed to C2 joint exercises or lead TSC missions ashore with partner nations as part of its further development.

The sustainment phase would be the most important of all for this staff because it would be key to force-wide improvement. Over the course of a deployment, the DESRON staff would have participated in various operations and exercises. Based on these experiences, the staff training officer would lead a robust program of lessons learned. The assigned WTIs would also compile and prepare various tactical notes and after action reports to share amongst other DESRON staffs and units alike. As the staff transitioned into its maintenance phase, it would go “on the road” to debrief its lessons learned, new tactical and doctrinal proposals with the goal of driving organizational learning for future operations. The habitual relationships with War College and its various research groups, the warfare development commands, and SMWDC WTI community makes for an amazing opportunity to share experiences, connect subject matter experts and further development efforts across the fleet.

Conclusion

This concept is aspirational and developed without respect to resources. There are numerous additional details necessary to bring a capability like this to fruition, but none of these details require new thinking to manage. Commitment, purposeful planning, and some smart staff work would be adequate to address each on in turn. A capability like this could be developed within the 5-year Future Year Defense Program/Program Objective Memorandum cycle. The staff’s full capability will be realized over time as new business rules for assignment are enacted. The certification criteria would be amended and in some cases completely developed. But much of this infrastructure, the school houses, the courseware, and training systems already exists.

This model makes no mention of permanently assigned surface ships to the DESRON. This work presupposes that ships assigned to the squadron arrive manned, trained, equipped and certified at the basic level. Ships change operational control to the DESRON for employment via formal tasking order. Readiness oversight functions of this staff are limited across the board. This staff retains a strong working relationship with the various type commands and local maintenance centers to assure in-situ readiness issues can be resolved.

The deployment and sustainment phases of the OFRP are vital to successful maintenance and basic phases for the next set of employment. The DESRON staff responsibility in this work is to assure that the events prescribed by the Surface Force Readiness Manual are scheduled, are thoroughly completed by assigned units, and that long-term readiness risks are endorsed. Once sustainment phase is complete, the assigned ships are returned via “chop” in the same official manner. Readiness oversight success in this environment means that ships have true and complete self-assessments with ample transparency of emergent and voyage work necessary to maintain assigned readiness conditions.

The proposal for a tactical DESRON represents an opportunity to leap ahead of the competition and bring the elements of speed, synchronization, and surprise to the employment of naval forces. The CSG and ARG as units of employment have been disaggregated for most of the last 20 years in an effort to get the most out of assigned theater maritime resources. Forces have been chopped up and moved about amongst standing fleet task forces, leaving the strike group staff in most instances over-billeted in terms of staff capability. This has left DESRON staffs as the under-employed adjuncts of CSG staffs and merely augmenting the battle-rhythm. This proposal to invest in the DESRON staff and reorient it towards looming challenges would correct these trends and yield a more lethal force for employment within the Distributed Maritime Operations concept.

Captain Bill Shafley is a career Surface Warfare Officer who has written extensively on strike group operations, mission command, and sea control in this forum and others. He has served on both coasts and overseas in Asia and Europe. He is a graduate of the Naval War College’s Advanced Strategy Program and a designated Naval Strategist. These views are presented in a personal capacity.

Featured Image: PHILIPPINE SEA (June 18, 2022) Sailors aboard Arleigh Burke-class guided-missile destroyer USS Spruance (DDG 111) handle lines during a replenishment-at-sea with Nimitz-class aircraft carrier USS Abraham Lincoln (CVN 72). Abraham Lincoln Strike Group is on a scheduled deployment in U.S. 7th Fleet to enhance interoperability through alliances and partnerships while serving as a ready-response force in support of a free and open Indo-Pacific region. (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 3rd Class Taylor Crenshaw)