Culture

The Curious Rise of Military Bullshit

Leave a comment

This article was originally published at The Cove, the Australian Army’s professional military education platform, and is republished with permission.

By Benjamin Gray

Clarity of purpose is a combat multiplier and central to mission command, yet anyone who has spent time in a large headquarters knows that language in the modern Army can sometimes resemble a map overlaid with too many graphics.1

Each symbol intended to clarify, but collectively obscuring the ground truth and making it harder to see what matters. We are using more words to say less, and sometimes nothing at all: orders, briefs, and discussions increasingly seek to synchronize effects, leverage partnerships, and optimize potential across a complex and challenging strategic environment while enabling teams to operate whenever, wherever, and with whomever required. The result is polished language that signals alignment and intellectual weight – but regularly obscures meaning. This paper offers a deliberately tongue-in-cheek look at that phenomenon: the proliferation of empty metaphors, inflated concepts, and managerial phrasing, and what it might mean for warfighting effectiveness.

The inspiration for this reflection comes in part from Harry Frankfurt’s 1988 essay On Bullshit, a short but rigorous philosophical treatment of a word not particularly common in academic journals.2 Frankfurt argues that bullshit is not the same as lying. He asserts that the liar remains tethered to the truth and deliberately departs from it, whereas the bullshitter is indifferent to whether statements are true or false; this indifference is the defining characteristic. In reading Frankfurt, it becomes difficult not to recognize echoes of his idea in contemporary military discourse, where the obligation to brief and conceptually frame problems can outpace genuine understanding. That realization provided the motivation and starting point for this paper.

One way to approach the issue is to develop a taxonomy of military bullshit. The first category is the empty metaphor.3 These are phrases that gesture toward complexity without offering testable meaning: operating in uncertainty, shaping conditions, or delivering effects at scale. Often, they combine convincingly with approved institutional language, producing formulations such as: ‘Army will leverage integrated partnerships to shape conditions across all domains in order to deliver decisive effects in an increasingly complex environment’. It is difficult to disagree with such statements, which is precisely the problem, as they are expansive, adaptable, and largely immune to disproof.4

The second category is concept inflation.5 This occurs when ideas are repeatedly repackaged and elevated through modifiers such as joint, integrated, partnered, and multi-domain. Army operates ‘on the land, from the land and onto the land, across all domains’ as part of the joint team, while Defense must continually adapt and evolve to meet a changing strategic environment. Yet when every activity is framed as integrated and adaptive, the terms risk becoming descriptive wallpaper rather than analytical tools.6 A plan quickly becomes an effort to ‘optimize capability across an integrated enterprise to enable outcomes’, suggesting transformation while describing little that is new.

A third category comprises hollow constructs.7 Terms like targeting, culture, and potential are central to institutional thinking and genuinely important and yet are often described or misapplied in ways that expand rather than clarify. Targeting must be both precise and adaptive across domains; culture must anchor behavior while simultaneously enabling change. In practice, these formulations tend to expand until they are capable of meaning almost anything, while specifying almost nothing about what is actually to be done differently in the next activity or task. When a concept can comfortably describe everything from barracks discipline to joint fires synchronization, it risks becoming less a guide to action than a reassuring slogan; one that sounds authoritative, travels well in briefs, and leaves just enough ambiguity for everyone to quietly interpret it in their own way. Yet such formulations often stop short of specifying how they translate into action. When a concept can accommodate anything and everything, it risks guiding nothing in particular.

Closely related is the overuse of tactical terminology for rhetorical effect. Words like decisive, synchronized, shaping, and effects once had precise analytical meaning (and doctrinally still do). When used liberally, they become verbal amplifiers. Army is a ‘versatile, decisive force’ that ‘integrates capabilities and delivers results’ through ‘teaming behaviors’. Entire passages can read like a synchronization matrix converted into prose, with each activity decisive and every effect coordinated. The reader is left reassured that something important is happening, without being entirely sure what.

Finally, there is the seepage of corporate and managerial language into military discourse. As one critique observes, jargon often emerges to make simple ideas sound sophisticated, spreading across organizations. Defense writing increasingly reflects this tendency: capability is leveraged, outcomes are delivered, and potential is optimized across the enterprise. The cumulative effect is to replace directness with abstraction. Tasks become outcomes, action becomes effect, and responsibility becomes diffused.

At its extreme, this produces a kind of linguistic symphony that is as impressive as it is incomprehensible. I recall, as a commanding officer, a briefing from a higher HQs that confidently stated something along the lines that we would ‘synchronize cross-domain effects by leveraging joint and partnered capabilities to shape the operational environment in advance of decisive activity, while simultaneously enabling adaptive team-based innovation across the enterprise’. I remember looking around the room, half expecting someone to translate. No one did, and we all nodded, which seemed the safest course of action.

On another occasion, a draft planning directive informed subordinate units that they were to ‘generate readiness by optimizing human capital to deliver capability outcomes aligned to evolving strategic objectives in a contested environment’. After a moment’s reflection, someone quietly asked whether this meant ‘train hard and be ready to deploy’. There was a sense that something important had just been lost in translation, possibly the entire paragraph. I would like to claim detached amusement at these moments, but the truth is less flattering… I have written versions of these sentences myself.

Now, it would be unfair to suggest that this problem exists only in conversation or informal briefings; it is also evident in some of our more formal strategy and concept documents. Consider the language of recent training and operational concepts, which describe the need to ‘unlock the full potential of our people’, ‘generate a qualitative edge’, and ‘synchronize multi-domain effects to create windows of advantage’. Each of these phrases is gesturing toward something important, yet none easily translates into a clear task for a junior commander. As previously mentioned, I have, on more than one occasion, been the author of sentences not entirely dissimilar. It is remarkably easy to be swept along by the current; by the newest concept, the latest popular phrasing, or the most compellingly branded idea. There is a professional gravity to phrases like integrated, multi-domain, or effects-based that is difficult to resist. They promise sophistication, alignment, and intellectual relevance. In reality, they often promise far more than they deliver. Recognizing the problem is one thing; avoiding it is another entirely.

One is left wondering what this might look like in battle. It is difficult to imagine a section commander in the midst of a fighting withdrawal or attack turning to their team and confidently announcing ‘righto, we’re now going to synchronize cross-domain effects to generate a window of local advantage’. More likely, they would default to something short, aggressive, and directive; clipped fire orders delivered at volume and punctuated with the kind of colorful language that leaves no ambiguity about either the task or the urgency. The underlying ideas in these documents are often sound, but the language used to express them frequently expands beyond the point of practical utility. The result is not nonsense, but a kind of polished abstraction that works perfectly on a slide or in a paper yet becomes noticeably less helpful when translated into action at the point where clarity matters most.

Recently, the Deputy Chief of Army has warned that ‘managerial and advertising logic and double speak’ have ‘polluted the profession’, with jargon used to obscure ignorance and detach soldiers from war’s violent reality.8 He criticized euphemisms such as ‘deliver effects’, reminding us that the role of the Army is to ‘seek out, close with, kill, capture, seize, hold and repel attacks’.9 That contrast (between abstraction and reality) goes to the heart of the issue, and there is a larger professional risk. As one Army Journal article argues, unclear writing reflects unclear thinking, and in a military context, that has direct consequences for action.10 Orders must be simple enough to be understood immediately: who goes where, when, and what they are to do when they get there. If officers think in phrases such as ‘interoperability frameworks’ and ‘persistent optimization pathways’, the concern is not literary, it is operational. In many ways, this is also a sort of performative lexicon and informal acceptance of buzzword bingo, in which directors and staff ritualistically ‘circle back’ and ‘touch base’ and ‘pivot’ towards a ‘synergized paradigm shift’ to avoid direct expression. Such jargon serves less to clarify meaning than to signal competence, free up time, or obscure collective uncertainty. The humor and discomfort inherent in this mode of communication emerge most clearly when translated into plain English; for example, a directive to ‘strategically cascade the bandwidth to maximize blue-sky thinking’ is, in practice, an instruction to distribute loosely defined tasks in the hope that some marginally useful outcome eventuates.

Why does this flourish? Frankfurt suggests bullshit emerges when individuals are required to speak beyond what they know. This is a familiar condition in headquarters, where officers must brief complex issues under time pressure while projecting confidence. There is also a signaling function, as language demonstrates alignment and intellectual currency. To speak using the popular terms and phrases of the time signals membership in the institutional mainstream. Yet language fluency can be mistaken for depth of understanding. This matters because military language is operational. It is broadly acknowledged that culture, leadership, and behavior shape capability and performance outcomes. If the language underpinning those functions becomes vague or performative, it risks degrading shared understanding. Unlike a lie, which can be challenged, inflated language is difficult to contest because it is rarely specific enough to be wrong. Military doctrine affirms the requirement for meaningful human control in the use of violence, and this mustn’t become indistinct because terminology fails to specify how decisions are produced or who is accountable. Words decide who is responsible, who can act, and who is blamed when things go wrong.11 Unlike other institutional discourses, military discourse should be shaped by the demands of operational activity, where urgency, hierarchy, and consequence place a premium on clarity, efficiency, and the unambiguous exercise of authority.

A modest response to this issue is not to abandon higher-level concepts, but to impose discipline. There is an enduring story attributed to Napoleon, who would ask a corporal whether his plans made sense after briefing his commanders. If the corporal did not understand them, the plan was reworked. This works, and historical evidence is that if a plan cannot be understood by those expected to execute it, it is unlikely to succeed. If ‘leveraging integrated capability to deliver decisive kinetic and non-kinetic effects to achieve relative asymmetry in a complex environment’ cannot be translated into a clear direction for a junior leader, it may not be useful language at all.

Ultimately, the Army is not uniquely afflicted, but the consequences are uniquely serious. Warfare punishes ambiguity, as such, if we lose discipline in language (and I include myself squarely in that risk), we risk losing discipline in thinking. And in the profession of arms, reality has a way of cutting through language with remarkable efficiency.

Colonel Benjamin Gray is the Director of Training Futures and has served in a range of operations and training appointments within the Australian Army, including overseas service in the Solomon Islands and Afghanistan. He has a Bachelor of Arts, a Masters of Strategy and Security and a Masters of Military and Defense Studies.

Notes

1. ADF-P-0 Command, Edition 1, Commonwealth of Australia, 2024, 26-31

2. Frankfurt H, ‘On Bullshit’, Raritan Quarterly Review, 1986.

3. Empty Metaphor: A phrase that sounds meaningful but no longer explains anything, such that it signals meaning without substantively clarifying the concept it purports to describe.

4. Buckley R, ‘Fuzzy writing and fatalities’, Australian Army Journal, Vol 7 No. 2 Winter, 2010, 10.

5. Concept Inflation: Progressive expansion and rebranding of a concept’s scope beyond its original bounds, such that it loses precision and explanatory utility while appearing to encompass an ever-widening range of use.

6. Patrick A, ‘The military is losing the war again business jargon’, Financial Review, 25 Feb 2025 

7. Hollow Constructs: Term, phrases or concepts that appears meaningful but lacks clear definition, real grounding, or explanatory value, serving mainly as a verbal placeholder rather than a substantive idea.

8. Smith C, Keynote Presentation – Chief of Army’s History Conference, 19 Nov 2025.

9. Smith C, Keynote Presentation – Chief of Army’s History Conference, 19 Nov 2025.

10. Buckley R, ‘Fuzzy writing and fatalities’, Australian Army Journal, Vol 7 No. 2 Winter, 2010, 12-13. 

11. Annett E, Bitterman J, and Giordano J, ‘Precision in Words, Precision in Warfare: Terminology and Control in Military Discourse on Unmanned Systems’ Strategic Insights, Institute for National Strategic Studies, 11 Mar 2026.

Featured image: The Pentagon Press Briefing Room before Defense Secretary Dr. Mark T. Esper briefs the media about the department’s COVID-19 response, the Pentagon, Washington, D.C., March 17, 2020. (DoD photo by Lisa Ferdinando)

Antarctic, Arctic

Polar Primer: Arctic and Antarctic Governance

2 Comments

By Jake Brantley

As great power competition expands into new domains and climate change alters global geography, the Arctic and Antarctica have become central pieces of the national security conversation. However, the conversation around these strategic regions often lacks a nuanced understanding of the distinct governance frameworks that regulate each polar region. There is a frequent, yet flawed, tendency to view “the poles” as a single, uniform operational environment.

While both the Arctic and Antarctic regions are remote, extreme, and unforgiving maritime environments characterized by a history of cooperative scientific exploration, their legal, political, and geographic structures are fundamentally different. Navigating these regions requires more than just icebreakers and cold-weather gear; it requires a clear understanding of rules-based order that governs them.

This article provides a comprehensive yet concise overview of the primary governing mechanisms for both the Arctic and Antarctica, aiming to equip national security practitioners with the foundational knowledge necessary to operate within and strategize for these regions. For a deeper understanding, readers are encouraged to dig into the authoritative legal documents governing the Arctic, Antarctic and global maritime trade.

Why Governance Matters

Before analyzing the specific legal mechanisms, it is important to understand why these frameworks matter to the modern national security expert. Both polar regions are transitioning from peripheral zones of scientific curiosity to central arenas of geopolitical competition.

In the North, receding sea ice is opening new trans-polar shipping routes—such as the Northern Sea Route and the Northwest Passage — that drastically reduce transit times between Asia and Europe. Simultaneously, the region is rich in untapped hydrocarbons, critical minerals, and migrating fish stocks. Commercial shipping, resource extraction, and emerging military opportunities will shape the future Arctic geo-strategic environment. These factors have already prompted renewed militarization by Russia and the assertion of “Near-Arctic State” status by China, as both countries seek to secure economic and strategic advantages.

In the South, Antarctica remains a demilitarized global commons, but it is not immune to strategic competition. The proliferation of scientific research stations has raised concerns regarding “dual-use” technologies, where scientific infrastructure—such as satellite tracking facilities—may be leveraged for military intelligence and space operations. Furthermore, the increasing demand for marine resources has tested the limits of Antarctic fisheries management. Understanding how to counter malign behavior in Antarctica requires a firm grasp of the legal architecture that defines norms and acceptable state behavior.

Adding to complexity, revisionist state pressure to undermine the rules-based order is increasing while region-specific enforcement options remain geopolitically limiting. Physically, extreme weather, logistics, and remote geography limit access and response time for nations to protect their interests in both regions. Legally, the Arctic affords relatively broad enforcement choices rooted in sovereign maritime jurisdiction. Conversely, Antarctica’s strict demilitarization restricts enforcement options primarily to diplomatic means—deviations from which risk validating Russian and Chinese “salami-slicing” tactics. To effectively project presence and achieve strategic priorities, security practitioners must account for the tyranny of distance, global narrative control, and legal nuance.

The Arctic

Geographically, the Arctic is an ocean surrounded by the sovereign landmasses of eight nations (the United States, Canada, Russia, Norway, Denmark/Greenland, Iceland, Sweden, and Finland). Consequently, it is governed primarily by national sovereignty and a multi-layered framework of maritime law and executive agreements.

Given the region’s fundamental nature as a maritime domain, Arctic governance is dominated by the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS). UNCLOS dictates territorial seas, Exclusive Economic Zones, and the rules for defining the extended continental shelf (Article 76)—the mechanism by which many Arctic states lay claim to the seabed and its resources. While the United States has not formally ratified UNCLOS, it recognizes its navigational and maritime zone provisions as customary international law. Alongside UNCLOS, the International Convention for the Safety of Life at Sea (SOLAS) and the International Convention for the Prevention of Pollution from Ships (MARPOL)—including the specialized IMO Polar Code—are critical to regulating maritime traffic and safety.

At the policy level, the Arctic Council serves as the preeminent high-level intergovernmental forum. It promotes cooperation, coordination, and interaction among the eight Arctic states, six Indigenous Peoples’ organizations (Permanent Participants), and 38 non-Arctic observers. Notably, the 1996 Ottawa Declaration that established the Council explicitly excludes matters related to military security. Although the Council does not discuss military matters, there are no legally binding agreements to prohibit military activity. While the Council is highly influential in drafting policy and fostering diplomacy, it is not a regulatory body and does not supersede the authority of sovereign states or legally binding agreements.

The tangible governance of the Arctic is heavily reliant on three principal executive agreements negotiated under the auspices of the Arctic Council:

1. Agreement on Cooperation on Aeronautical and Maritime Search and Rescue (SAR) in the Arctic (2011): This 20-article agreement represents the first legally binding instrument negotiated among all eight Arctic states. The vast tyranny of distance and lack of infrastructure in the high north make SAR a daunting operational challenge. Key provisions establish specific regions of SAR responsibility, mandate the development of national capabilities and coordination centers, and provide vital guidelines for joint operations, information sharing, and cross-border assistance during mass-casualty events.

2. Agreement on Cooperation on Marine Oil Pollution Preparedness and Response in the Arctic (2013): As maritime traffic increases, so does the risk of environmental disaster. This 22-article agreement strengthens mutual assistance for oil spill preparedness and response. It requires parties to maintain a robust national response system, proactively notify other nations of pollution incidents, and provides operational guidance for joint response efforts, including the cross-border movement of cleanup assets.

3.  Agreement on Enhancing International Arctic Scientific Cooperation (2017): This agreement aims to facilitate the movement of researchers and equipment across borders. It protects intellectual property, ensures access to research infrastructure and data, and promotes the integration of traditional and local knowledge into scientific endeavors, ensuring that indigenous populations have a voice in the region’s future.

Antarctica

In contrast to the Arctic, Antarctica is a massive continent surrounded by the Southern Ocean. It is a global commons, governed by a single, comprehensive legal regime known as the Antarctic Treaty System (ATS).

Originally signed in 1959 at the height of the Cold War by twelve nations (including the US and the Soviet Union), the Antarctic Treaty was a masterclass in diplomatic pragmatism. Today, adhered to by 56 parties, the treaty establishes the legal framework for the entire continent. It is built upon three foundational principles:

1. The use of Antarctica for peaceful purposes only.

2. The absolute freedom of scientific investigation and cooperation.

3. The mandatory free exchange and availability of scientific observations and results.

The treaty consists of 14 articles. For the national security practitioner, the most consequential are:

Article 1: Explicitly prohibits any measures of a military nature, such as the establishment of military bases and fortifications, the carrying out of military maneuvers, as well as the testing of any type of weapons. (Note: It does allow for the use of military personnel or equipment for scientific research or for any other peaceful purpose, which is how militaries operate logistics in the region today).

Article 4: Freezes all historical territorial claims (asserted by seven nations) and prohibits the assertion of new ones while the treaty is in force.

Article 5: Prohibits nuclear explosions and the disposal of radioactive waste.

Article 7: Establishes a rigorous system of observation. It grants designated observers’ complete freedom of access to all areas, stations, installations, and equipment in Antarctica, as well as to all ships and aircraft discharging or embarking cargoes or personnel, ensuring compliance with the treaty’s demilitarization provisions.

The broader ATS includes subsequent additions that carry immense strategic weight. Most notable is the 1991 Protocol on Environmental Protection (The Madrid Protocol), which designates Antarctica as a “natural reserve, devoted to peace and science” and outright bans all commercial mining and mineral resource activity. Furthermore, the Convention on the Conservation of Antarctic Marine Living Resources governs the region’s fisheries, attempting to balance conservation with the growing global demand for marine resources, such as krill.

Conclusion

Effective planning requires a clear understanding of the operating environment. Without a foundational knowledge of polar legal governance, defense professionals will be unable to develop acceptable and fully informed strategies.

The Arctic is a sovereign maritime domain bordered by the territory of eight nations. It is governed by a multi-layered framework of international maritime law and targeted executive agreements. Security and sovereignty are paramount, and the region is an active theater for great power competition. In contrast, Antarctica is a vast, unpopulated landmass governed by a single, comprehensive treaty system that explicitly prohibits military activity, freezes territorial claims, and bans resource extraction.

This distinction dictates operational legality, the rules of engagement, and informs the strategic approaches required to protect U.S. and Allied polar interests. Both regions demand highly specialized assets to project presence, conduct scientific research, and ensure safety of life at sea. However, presence alone is not enough.

You cannot secure a domain you do not fully understand. As the strategic environment evolves, a working understanding of these complex legal and political landscapes is no longer an academic luxury, but an operational prerequisite for the modern national security professional.

CDR Jake Brantley currently serves as Deputy Chief – Coast Guard Office of Future Plans and Operations (CG-35) at CG Headquarters where he develops CG solutions to global maritime missions. Prior to staff, he served as a CG rescue pilot, civil engineer, and ships officer throughout North America.

The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not reflect the official policy or position of the the U.S. Coast Guard or any other organization or official with which the author is affiliated.

Featured image: The U.S. Coast Guard Cutter Storis transits to Johns Hopkins Glacier in Glacier Bay National Park and Preserve.(U.S. Coast Guard photo by Petty Officer 3rd Class Ashly Murphy)

Human Capital

Toward a Navy Fatigue Management Program

1 Comment

By Dr. John P. Cordle, Captain, USN (Ret).

The first week of June 2026 marked a seminal event in the history of sleep and fatigue in the military. The Department of War (DOW) Fatigue Related Management Working Group hosted the first ever Sleep and Fatigue Summit with over 130 experts in the field from all military services, providing a huge burst of momentum in the area of fatigue management as an operational imperative for our warfighters. For the first time in years, there is hope that the military, and especially the Navy, is finally turning a corner in this critical arena.  But there remains much work to be done. 

My relationship with fatigue is a long and storied one. I joined the Navy in 1984 and grew up as a Surface Warfare Officer at a time when fatigue was seen as a badge of honor. Later serving as a Human Factors Engineer, I studied its impact on individual readiness as well as mental health and advocated for changes to Navy policy. As a veteran, I live with the effects of a lifetime of sleep deprivation and non-circadian watch rotations, hooking up to my Continuous Positive Airway Pressure (CPAP) machine every evening and dealing with obstructive sleep apnea and the onset of heart disease caused by atrial fibrillation (AFib). This is all tied to a Navy lifestyle and culture that ignored the known effects of fatigue, to the detriment of its sailors. 

I am gratified that there has been solid progress in the understanding and application of fatigue mitigation policies in various parts of the Navy. However, despite both DOD direction and concrete recommendations from many authoritative bodies, including the Government Accountability Office (GAO), National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB), and Department of War (DoW), the Navy has still failed to implement an overarching fatigue management program to include education, research, and policy. 

One of the last projects that I worked on as a Government Service (GS) Human Factors Engineer  prior to retirement last year was trying to define the Navy’s Fatigue Management program in a single document. As with any large organization, a change like this is likely to meet bureaucratic obstacles, obfuscation, and outright obstruction… and it did. The main challenge to this effort was that no one in the Navy felt compelled to step up and say “I own this problem,” an obstacle that has now been overcome with the designation of the Office of Warfighting Advantage (OWA) as the process owner. It would be a shame to unlearn the lessons of the ship collisions of the USS McCain and USS Fitzgerald, both of which occurred in 2017. The investigations for these separate incidents identified fatigue as a significant factor in the death of 17 Sailors.

Unfortunately, this was not the last collision for which sleep was a contributing factor. In 2025 the USS Harry S. Truman suffered a collision during her deployment to the Middle East. The investigation results cited fatigue as a major factor in the collision. While no one was killed, several sailors came within inches and seconds of losing their lives.  The below figures from the Navy investigation tell the story:

Figure 1. The Risk Management Brief specifically identified fatigue as a risk factor for senior leadership. They would not have been allowed to fly a plane in this condition but can drive a ship. The second figure shows the result.  Source: Navy Investigation of USS Harry S. Truman Collision.

Eerily, (Admiral) Whalen’s investigation stated that, “… fatigue as a human factor in the collision and cited department heads who described a ‘just get it done’ atmosphere aboard the carrier. Both sailors’ lack of sleep and pressure to perform tasks regardless of risk were crucial themes in the 2017 collisions.” The similarities with the 2017 collisions are impossible to miss. And yet, eight years later, little has changed within the U.S. Navy. 

 To be fair, there are policies in place in most of the major warfare areas, and the last two Carrier Strike Groups deployed with sleep monitoring devices on most sailors and a program to provide sleep data to inform individual Sailors, shipboard leaders, and Navy research efforts. Specifically, the Command Readiness, Endurance and Watchstanding (CREW) program shows huge promise in collecting sleep and other biometric data and providing feedback to individuals and leadership to inform operational decision making.  There is ongoing research to design more comfortable mattresses that meet material condition and fire safety requirements on board ships. My former colleagues continue to push hard for improvement in this area, but it is still largely a “bottom up” effort – they deserve full policy and financial support. 

To that end, I offer here the below document as a proposed road map, including the key references and directives that should drive two significant outcomes: 

First, the designation of a single entity, responsible for fatigue management in the Navy, to include resource sponsorship (funding) for research and technology. Of note, since the drafting of this article,  this recommendation has occurred. The Office of Warfighting Advantage (OWA) has been designated to do just this.

Second, a formal policy for fatigue management, which includes research, education, and operational guidance for commanders.

I present the below draft document  for consideration by the U.S. Navy to address this critical problem. It was the result of over one year’s collaborative effort between the Navy Sleep expert team, many of whom have moved on or retired without replacement, leaving many key billets that support sleep research and policy unfilled.

The below document represents an 80 percent solution and would provide a starting point. It is ready to download, print, and sign. But who will take that important step? I hope it does not take another deadly collision, with fatigue as a major factor, for someone in Navy leadership to stand up and say, “I will!”

OPNAVINST XXXX

Subj: United States Navy Crew Endurance and Fatigue Management Program 

Ref: (a) Department of Defense Instruction 1010.10, Health Promotion and Disease Prevention (Apr. 28, 2014) (incorporating change 3, effective May 16, 2022). 

(b) Department of Defense, Report to Congressional Armed Services Committees, Study on Effects of Sleep Deprivation on Readiness of Members of the Armed Forces, March 2021

(c) Secretary of Defense Memorandum, Next Steps on Suicide Prevention in the Military, March 2023

(d) GAO 24-105917 Military Readiness: Comprehensive Measures needed to Address Service Member Fatigue and Related Efforts. 

(e) USFF Comprehensive Review of Surface Incidents, October 2019. 

Encl. (1) Tables of Requirements and Recommendations 

1. This instruction establishes overarching guidance IAW references (a) through (e) for the implementation of Crew Endurance and Fatigue Management practices to improve warfighting effectiveness across the Navy operational domain. It is intended as a framework based on scientific and operational principles to be tailored by instruction for individual communities based on specific needs of their operators.

2. Background. As described in reference (a) and (b), sleep is considered a protective factor against combat operational stress, and sleep restriction is considered a risk factor for symptoms of combat operational stress. The DOD requires that all commanders consider circadian rhythm—the body’s internal resting or wakefulness schedule over the course of a day—when creating policy related to sleep. For example, watchbills are schedules for when Sailors stand watch for fixed periods of time. Circadian rhythm watchbills are designed so that Sailors stand watch and sleep at the same time each day, allowing the body to follow its natural biological processes on a 24-hour cycle. The Suicide Prevention and Response Independent Review Committee (ref c) also made recommendations related to sleep. For example, it recommended that duty schedules allow for eight hours of sleep and minimize the frequency of shift changes, and that the department provide education in healthy sleep habits during training and unit formations. The report clearly shows the connection between sleep deprivation and fatigue as contributing factors to stress, anxiety, and even suicidal thoughts and actions. 

3. Extensive research over the past decade has shown the importance of crew endurance and fatigue management to individual readiness and war fighting capability. Research has shown that cognitive ability degrades at a consistent rate as sleep deprivation progresses, with a major impact on decision making, which can prove fatal in battle. Performance starts to degrade after as little as 18 hours of wakefulness, and 24 hours without sleep can have similar impacts on performance to a blood alcohol level of 0.08 percent. While operational commitments and manning shortages may challenge leaders to provide their crew with sufficient sleep, every effort must be made through planning, education, and risk management to plan for, account for, and mitigate excessive fatigue in the fleet. This policy supports Operation Total Force and is foundational to Warrior Toughness, Operational Stress Control, and other Culture of Excellence initiatives.

4. Enclosure (1) Tables 1-3 provide a summary of DOD requirements and recommendations.  They were used to produce the required actions in this instruction and are provided here for easy reference.

5. Action. This instruction does not dictate a particular watchbill or schedule but is designed to provide a set of guiding principles upon which to build a policy and tailored instruction at the Echelon III level. Collaboration is encouraged. While primarily applicable to ships, aircraft carriers, and submarines, the basic tenets apply to other teams such as staffs, guard forces and watch floors. The following precepts will be incorporation into each Type Commander’s instructions:

a. Focus on alert watch standers.

b. Implement a circadian watchbill based on a 24-hour schedule (i.e., watch, work and sleep periods occur at the same time each day).

c. Promote a sleep environment that considers complete darkness, good ventilation, ambient temperature control, and low noise levels.

d. Adjust working hours, meal hours, and daily routines to support watch standers and maintenance personnel at sea and ashore.

e. Establish periods of protected sleep to equal at least eight hours in every 24.

f. Consider individual fatigue as a risk factor for all evolutions, including go/no-go criteria for both operations and maintenance.

g. Allow additional sleep during ramp up to mission and recovery times following periods of extreme sleep deprivation or during period of high operational tempo.

h. Establish metrics and measures to track implementation of this policy at the unit level. Wearable technology is encouraged to support this effort.

i. Establish go/no-go criteria to stop or delay evolutions when fatigue poses an unacceptable risk.

j. Implement sleep and crew endurance education and training in all levels of officer and enlisted pipeline training for each community.

k. Assign one individual per unit as a sleep expert for training and support of sleep-related policies. 

l. Promote good nutrition and moderation in caffeine and energy drinks into programs like Warrior Toughness, Basic Training, and command training programs.

m. Establish policies and procedures to incorporate wearable sleep monitoring technology, data collection, analysis and display commensurate with security requirements.

n. Develop guidelines for training programs which may include periods of intentional sleep deprivation to prevent inflicting harm on personnel in a training environment.

o. Develop and maintain an online repository of sleep related research and best practices. 

p. One size does not fit all – Commanders should obtain analysis of watch rotations and schedules from experts such as the Naval Postgraduate School and Naval Health Research Laboratory.

6. Nothing in this instruction precludes a Commander from executing the mission assigned. Conflict with a peer competitor may be characterized by a long duration of high stress operations; the ability of Sailors and Marines to continue to operate at peak performance over long periods is critical. It is imperative that everyone from the Commanding Officer to the most junior watch stander be capable of sustaining peak performance, and sleep is a necessary prerequisite for that requirement.

Enclosure (1) Tables of DOD Requirements and Recommendations 

Table 1. Military Service Responsibilities set forth in ref (a), DOD Instruction 1010.10 Table 2. Recommendations from Reference (b), DOD Study of Fatigue in the Military.

Table 3. Sleep Policy Recommendations from the DOD Suicide Prevention and Response Review Committee Report (2022).

The recommendations in the above instruction are grounded in existing documents; they are clear, actionable, and they will save lives. Most can be implemented with minimal cost. All it needs is a signature. But whose? 

We now have an answer. The Office of Warfighting Advantage has been designated as the process owner for Fatigue Management in the Navy. They can now take ownership of the process from policy, instructions (like the above) to research and (importantly) as a budget priority. The current CNO and VCNO have well-established records of advocacy for Sailor Wellness and of recognizing the importance of sleep to mental health, physical fitness, and warfighter readiness. CNO Caudle even added Dr. Matthew Walker’s excellent book Why We Sleep to his 2026 Reading List! This is a perfect opportunity for the CNO to put his “stamp” on this service-wide safety and performance issue by demanding action – and accountability – across the force with a formal policy; maybe even a “CNOte” titled “Sleep as a Weapon!”

Certainly there are obstacles to implementing such an instruction, such as manning shortages and excessive OPTEMPO. But like rust, fatigue doesn’t care how important or busy you are; it eats away at the foundation of readiness and, if unchecked, will eventually lead to failure. The instruction above must be accompanied by strong institutional resolve; it must come with education, funding, and a culture of learning to address the “get ‘er done” and excessive “can do” attitude that contributed to both the 2017 and 2024 collisions. This instruction must be more than “checking a block”; it needs to come with a strong commitment to drive real change.

Dr. John Cordle is a retired Navy surface warfare officer (nuclear). He commanded the destroyer USS Oscar Austin and the cruiser USS San Jacinto during his 30-year military career and was recognized with the U.S. Navy League John Paul Jones Award for Inspirational Leadership.

References

1. Captain John Cordle, U.S. Navy and Dr. Nita Shattuck, “A Sea Change in Standing Watch,” USNI Proceedings, January 2013, https://www.usni.org/magazines/proceedings/2013/january/sea-change-standing-watch

2. Captain John P. Cordle, U.S. Navy (ret.), “Fatigue is the Navy’s Black Lung Disease,” USNI Proceedings, January 2020,  https://www.usni.org/magazines/proceedings/2020/january/fatigue-navys-black-lung-disease

3. Captain John P. Cordle, U.S. Navy (ret.), “Go Circadian Now!”, USNI Blog, September 2017,  https://blog.usni.org/posts/2017/09/22/go-circadian-now

4. Captain John P. Cordle, U.S. Navy (ret.), “Improve Sleep-Disorder Treatment for Service Members and Veterans,” USNI Proceedings, September 2022, https://www.usni.org/magazines/proceedings/2022/september/improve-sleep-disorder-treatment-service-members-and-veterans

5. Captain John P. Cordle, U.S. Navy (ret.), “Make Crew Endurance an Operational Warfighting Imperative,” CIMSEC, 23 September 2019,  https://cimsec.org/make-crew-endurance-an-operational-warfighting-imperative/

Featured image: Red lights glow from the primary flight control room aboard the USS Ronald Reagan during a darken ship period. (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 3rd Class Ryan McFarlane)

Infrastructure

Guam’s Logistics Capacity Must Be Increased

2 Comments

By Crispinus Lee and Joe Schwartzstein

Guam is the westernmost territory of the United States in the Pacific region. The Congressional Research Service notes that Guam is closer to Beijing than Hawaii, making it vital to the United States’ national defense for air and naval operations in the Indo-Pacific region.1 The Port of Guam is designated as one of eighteen National Port Readiness Network commercial seaports. Military and civilian logistical experts believe that Guam will be a critical logistical hub for any conflict in the Asia-Pacific.2 Despite the geographic importance of the island, Guam’s logistical capacity is far below the needs of the United States in the event of a conflict in the Indo-Pacific region.

Peacetime Capacity

The island’s only deep-water port, the Port of Guam, handles almost 90 percent of all the island’s imports and serves over 500,000 residents of Guam and Micronesia. The port moves approximately 85,000 containers annually and maintains 40.5 acres for storage. There are three 40-year-old rail-mounted gantry cranes with a spreader of 120-foot reach and a maximum reach height of 85 feet, seven top lifters, two 20-ton heavy-lift forklifts, and 32 tractors.

Berthing consists of four piers with a 2,700-foot linear wharf space dredged to between 28 and 35 feet and 40.5 acres of storage. Fishing vessels and tenants utilize pier F-3; container ships general cargo, and cruise ships utilize piers F-4 through F-6.  The port also has 858 chassis-mounted container stalls and 124 refrigerated container stalls. The port plans to develop a new F-7 pier, adding 900 feet of additional space.3

Cargo Capacity in Wartime Conditions

Would this be enough to support military operations? For comparison, the Gulf War and Operation Iraqi Freedom provide insight into the scale of logistical movement that would have to occur during a conventional war. To combat Iraq, the United States had to move 400,000 tons of ammunition for conventional fires, 117,000 wheeled vehicles, and 12,000 tanks and armored vehicles to ports in Saudi Arabia where its forces were deployed.4 To move these materials, the United States employed 385 vessels (foreign-flagged vessels carried 22.6 percent of all dry cargo), averaging 4,200 tons of cargo daily.

While the Gulf War ended in a victory for the U.S. led coalition, this military success overshadowed logistics being strained in a primarily land-based war. Foreign-flagged ships made 17 shiploads of ammunition delivery, an amount equal to the deliveries by the ready reserve force and three times more than that made by US-flagged shipping.5 Then Commander-in-Chief of U.S. Transportation Command (TRANSCOM) General Johnson stated, “Our ability to lift more than ten million tons of material by sea in seven months of operations to the Persian Gulf region has … depended heavily on the contributions of organic, allied, and friendly shippers. In the future, however, we may find ourselves in a contingency that may require us to accomplish a deployment by relying on a mix of U.S. sealift resources. One of our greatest concerns, then, is the state of the U.S. maritime industry.”6

Almost a decade later, the United States initiated Operation Iraqi Freedom (OIF). From 2002 to 2011, vessels enrolled in the maritime security program moved an astronomical 18,540,965 containers over 9 years. This was done to combat a primarily land-based foe whose capacity for war was largely destroyed within the first year of conflict. In both cases, Iraq had virtually no control over its air and sea lanes of communication. With an average 1,545,080 containers moved a year during the Gulf War and Operation Iraqi Freedom, the wartime need for a deployed American force during that conflict alone dwarfs Guam’s average annual capacity. Even if the Port of Guam modified its activity to handle more cargo volume by tenfold, it would not be able to handle what the United States moved in a year during the two wars in Iraq. 7

In a contested maritime environment, logistics face the additional challenge of protecting isolated sea lines of communication that span vast distances. While the wars against Iraq had multiple developed allied ports on the European mainland, the Pacific is a vast stretch of ocean with a scattering of small islands.

The Falklands War provides more insight into this particular challenge. Argentina, with a formidable Air Force and Navy, faced a significantly diminished Royal Navy. The United Kingdom was forced to tackle an 8,000-nautical mile supply chain.  During the conflict, the British utilized 50 merchant marine ships to support 30,000 marines, sailors, airmen, and mariners. Ascension Island, sitting 4,000 nautical miles from Britain, served as the only possible forward support base. With no port except for a small jetty and an anchorage, Ascension Island served as a key hub for strategic airlift. The British military conducted 10,600 helicopter flights and 2,500 fixed-wing flights, airlifting more than 7,000 tons of ammunition, vehicles, and other cargo. In addition, the island base flew over 6,500 personnel.8 During that time, the British military moved one million ration packs, 12 million meals, 10,000 tons of ammunition, 1,260 tons of fuel, 3,880 tons of ordnance, and more than 38,000 tons of equipment.9 The loss of one ship, the MV Atlantic Conveyor, severely impacted British logistical efforts. On board were six Wessex helicopters, three CH47 helicopters, and equipment for 10,000 service members – only a single CH47 helicopter survived.10 The British successfully fought a war over 8,000 nautical miles from home, supporting over 30,000 service members, but the war required a significant logistical footprint.

Guam’s Shortfalls

 A war in the Pacific would far outstrip the British experience, with Taiwan playing the role of the Falklands and Guam the role of the Ascension Islands. The difference is that Chinese conventional and nuclear missiles are capable of striking both Taiwan and Guam, among several other facilities across the Pacific. The distance from one friendly port to another, such as San Diego to Honolulu, is 2,607 miles, and another 3,800 miles from there to Guam. This eye-watering distance would be strung together by a fleet of 44 ready reserve vessels, assuming prospective allies or friendly states during this contest would be willing to risk their assets.11

It is essential to understand the Port of Guam’s supply chain limitations compared to recent military logistical operations requirements. In 2023, the Port of Guam handled 86,000 containers, 215,000 tons of non-containerized/breakbulk cargo, and 6,821 roll-on/roll-off cargo.12 These cargo figures may seem impressive in a vacuum, but they must be compared to recent annual military logistical operations. U.S. Central Command handled 1,124,612 tons of breakbulk and Roll-on/Roll-off (RORO) and 2,428,616 tons of containerized cargo in 2011.13 Now, imagine a war in the Indo-Pacific region requiring full military mobilization. During the Gulf War, U.S. sealift moved 945,000 pieces of equipment, totaling almost 32.7 million square feet, covering the equivalent of 681 football fields or 898 acres.14 Finally, utilizing the Port of Guam  for wartime operations would effectively shut down all civilian operations, leaving the population without the necessary supplies, food, and items for daily living. If it was not painfully evident yet, to say that the Port of Guam is incapable of meeting Indo-Pacific sealift logistical requirements is an understatement.

All this is compounded by the fact that the Port of Guam is in range of Chinese strike assets. Facilities may be damaged by missile and drone attacks, aerial bombardment, and sabotage. There will be degradation to the Port of Guam’s expected operational capabilities.

Currently, the federal government plans to expand the port to accommodate four Ultra Large Container Vessels (ULCVs), at least four ROROs, and 3 product tankers simultaneously. This would involve a 500-acre expansion for ROROs and 250 acres for container storage to meet the minimum for sealift operations. Additionally, sufficient petroleum storage is available to handle military operations. To support large-scale operations, the port will require sufficient capacity for both military and commercial operations, as well as large-scale storage and robust infrastructure to meet national security requirements.

Prepositioning Stocks in Guam

The abysmal port capacity is even more concerning when considering the use of Guam as a base to use for prepositioning forces. The Department of Defense maintains prepositioned military essential stocks around the globe for rapid deployment for national contingencies. These prepositioned stocks provide enough equipment and supplies to allow the DOD to quickly deploy forces around the globe, rather than waiting the weeks necessary to ship supplies and equipment to the theater. This essential policy enhances U.S. global military readiness of any combatant commander to meet any national security challenge.  Could Guam support a force that may require deployment for 30 days? The answer is a resounding no.

The Department of Defense, in its report to Congress, noted that Guam requires significant investment to upgrade its deteriorating infrastructure to support future military expansion and meet U.S. national strategy in the Indo-Pacific region.16 Prepositioning stocks require significant infrastructural support for both the equipment and personnel.

Leghorn Army Depot in Livorno, Italy, is a typical example of a base that maintains prepositioned supplies.  It consists of “60 maintenance bays in 16 warehouses with over 749,000 square feet of humidity-controlled storage.”17 Guam falls short yet again in almost every category. Currently, the U.S. military utilizes about 20 percent of the island’s electrical power. Guam’s Power Authority concluded that the island faces challenges in “keeping its aging, owned plants reliable and in good working condition.”18 Any adhoc expansion could cause rolling blackouts on the island. Prepositioned stocks also require a significant investment in personnel to manage and monitor stock readiness, which in turn requires major reworks to water treatment and wastewater removal. Guam Waterworks Authority (GWA) recently settled with the EPA over violations of the Clean Water Act, which included untreated sewage, and its poor condition sanitary sewer system.  Even something as basic as roads are lacking. The DOD report highlighted several issues, including inadequate bridges, road flooding, tight corners, and poor roads.19 The military would face significant challenges in moving equipment, supplies, personnel, and associated waste without infrastructure improvements.

Finally, returning to the Port of Guam itself, afloat prepositioning stocks require either pier space or anchorages. The Port of Guam does not have the pier space to berth prepositioning ships. Apra Harbor would need to be enlarged and deepened to accommodate afloat prepositioning ships. Commercial ships require access to the port’s anchorage that prepositioning ships would take up. Further, the port would require the construction of piers and dredging.  Naval Base Guam supports over 30 tenant commands in support of Pacific Command. Prepositioning ships would take up vital pier space or anchorages required for the U.S. Pacific Fleet, Seventh Fleet, and Fifth Fleet. Unfortunately, Guam would not be able to host DOD prepositioning stocks, either shoreside or shipboard, without a significant financial and physical investment.

Why Prioritize Guam?

While it would be advantageous for the military to rely on non-U.S. ports for logistic support, assuming that these ports would be available for U.S. use during an Indo-Pacific conflict could prove disastrous. China holds considerable economic and military influence in the Asia-Pacific region that can be leveraged to exclude the United States from ports and supply chain hubs. Aside from the fact that most major ports in the Indo-Pacific lie closer in range to Chinese military assets, most Asian Pacific ports operate at capacity to supply some of the largest import-oriented economies in the world. This configuration would force the DOD to compete for port access, berthing, cargo operations, storage, and transportation of containers, rolling stock, and break-bulk materials.

Further complicating the supply chain is the spread of the DOD’s logistical footprint across multiple ports. Diversifying across multiple ports complicates the DOD’s logistical footprint and supply chain, making the military’s supply chain vulnerable to disruptions. There is no guarantee that a port can meet TRANSCOM’s sealift requirements.

Port cybersecurity vulnerabilities are another area to contend with in ports in the Pacific theater. China’s dominance in port infrastructure across the Pacific region places cybersecurity at the top of defense concerns.

There is also concern about Anti-Access/Area Denial (A2/AD) vulnerabilities at allied and non-allied ports. Asian-Pacific ports are vulnerable to Chinese missile attacks, submarines, and subsea cable infrastructure attacks. It is unlikely that the United States would be able to prevent attacks on foreign ports by an adversary seeking to disrupt U.S. sealift, particularly for the number of U.S. assets over the largest maritime theater on Earth.

Guam serves as Maritime Prepositioning Stock Squadron 3’s center. This makes it the center of America’s military Pacific posture for sustainment and a vital intermodal conduit for U.S. forces. As such, the Port of Guam must be the priority for upgrades to support U.S. power projection in the Indo-Pacific. This requires extensive infrastructure upgrades and the acquisition of land for container and RORO stockyards aligning with most continental U.S. strategic seaports.

To these ends, the container berths require massive expansions and upgrades. At a minimum, the Port of Guam should be able to handle four ULCVs with four to six cranes capable of working each ship. The berths must be dredged to a depth of forty-five feet. The container yard should be expanded to accommodate marshaling and storage of wartime logistical needs, with a minimum of 250-300 acres and sufficient Rubber-Tired Gantry Cranes (RTGs) to facilitate container movements.

The Port of Guam should also have sufficient RORO berthing to handle four ROROs dredged to a depth of thirty-seven feet. TRANSCOM RORO marshaling and storage footprint will require between 500 and almost 900 acres. In comparison, during the Gulf War, TRANSCOM moved enough equipment and supplies to cover 680 football fields, about 897.6 acres.20 

Further, the Port must have sufficient tanker berthing and storage to perform cargo operations on at least two to four tankers at any time, dredged to thirty-seven feet,  and storage capacity for one week to handle DOD’s requirements of 12.6 million gallons of fuel per day.21 The Port of Guam will require sufficient break-bulk berthing to accommodate two to four ships dredged to a depth of forty-one feet. Ports require tugs to facilitate vessel movements. Assisting in the ships in the port requires enough tugs to handle multiple ship moves per day. An average U.S. port could have between six to eight tractor tugs in the range of 60 to 80 bollard tons. The Department of Defense should also consider six azimuth stern drive (ASD) tugs for port operations.

Finally, to ensure the vessel movement in the Port, the DOD must provide familiarization training to all members of the U.S. Navy Reserve’s Strategic Sealift Officer Force Harbor Pilot Detachment, a group of highly trained and skilled civilian harbor pilots whose sole responsibility would be to facilitate the movement of sealift vessels within the port.

The Port of Guam serves as the key strategic sealift port in the Indo-Pacific region and, with the proper investment, can fulfill its potential as the critical supply chain strong point for the department.

Crispinus “Cris” Lee is a Surface Warfare Officer and Lieutenant in the U.S. Navy Reserve. He works as a Program Management Specialist for Booze Allen Hamilton. Prior to this, he served as an Assistant Operations Officer onboard USS Cole and as Weapons Officer aboard USS Gladiator. 

Joe Schwartzstein is a Commander in the U.S. Navy Reserve Strategic Sealift Officer Force and serves as a Maryland State Pilot. A dual-licensed graduate of the U.S. Merchant Marine Academy at Kings Point, he holds master’s degrees from the California State University Maritime Academy and the U.S. Air Force Air Command and Staff College. Commander Schwartzstein is also a U.S. Coast Guard licensed First-Class Pilot, Master of Oceans, Unlimited Tonnage, and First Assistant Engineer of Steam, Motor, and Gas Turbine Vessels.

Notes

1. Andres Tilghman, “Guam: Defense Infrastructure and Readiness,” published August 3, 2023, https://www.congress.gov/crs-product/R47643, 2.

2. Clara Fong and Diana Roy, “Guam’s Strategic Importance in the Indo-Pacific,” published September 6, 2024, https://www.cfr.org/articles/guams-strategic-importance-indo-pacific.

3. Port of Guam. “Equipment, Berthing, and Facilities,” accessed March 9, 2026, https://www.portofguam.com/about-us/maritime-operation/facilities-and-services/equipment-berthing-and-facilities.

4. William G. Pagonis and Michael D. Krause, No. 13, Land Warfare Papers (Arlington, VA: Institute of Land Warfare 1992), 11-13;  Keith M. Wilkinson, “The Logistics Lessons of the Gulf War: A Snowball in the Desert,” June 18, paper prepared for  Naval War College, Newport, RI [DTIC AD-A264 145], https://apps.dtic.mil/sti/pdfs/ADA264145.pdf. 15.

5. James K. Matthews, and Cora J. Holt, So Many, So Much, So Far, So Fast: United States Transportation Command and Strategic Deployment for Operation Desert Shield/ Desert Storm (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office 1996), 115.

6. Wilkinson, The Logistics Lessons of the Gulf War, 12.

7. Albert Joseph Herberger, Kenneth C. Gaulden, and Rolf Marshall, Global Reach: Revolutionizing the Use of Commercial Vessels and Intermodal Systems for Military Sealift, 1990-2012 (Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press, 2015), 417.

8. Peter Dye, “Logistics in the Falklands Campaign,” Royal Air Force Historical Society Journal, 54, (2003): 96

9. Kenneth L. Privratsky and Julian Thompson, Logistics in the Falklands War: A Case Study in Expeditionary Warfare (Barnsley, UK: Pen & Sword Military, 2019), 37.

10. Ibid. 127.

11. MARAD, The Ready Reserve Force (RRF), accessed March 9, 2026, https://www.maritime.dot.gov/national-defense-reserve-fleet/ndrf/maritime-administration%E2%80%99s-ready-reserve-force#:~:text=The%20Ready%20Reserve%20Force%20(RRF)%20is%20a%20subset%20of%20vessels,deployment%20of%20U.S.%20military%20forces.

12. Port Authority of Guam, Financial Statements, Required Supplementary Information, and Supplementary and Other Information, Tamuning, Guam, 2023, 11-13.

13. Vice Admiral A.J. Herberger, U.S.N. (ret), Kenneth C. Gaulden, Commander Rolf Marshall, U.S.N. (ret). Global Reach, Revolutionizing the Use of Commercial Vessels and Intermodal Systems for Military Sealift, 1900-2012, (Annapolis MD, 2015) 437-439.

14. Matthews and Holt, So Many, So Much, So Far, So Fast, 112.

15. Chief Warrant Officer 2 Kenneth Hudak, “Lengthening the Tether of Fuel in Afghanistan,” Army Sustainment Magazine March-April 2013, https://www.army.mil/article/97879/lengthening_the_tether_of_fuel_in_afghanistan.

16. Tilghman, “Guam: Defense Infrastructure and Readiness,” 30.

17. U.S. Army Europe and Africa Public Affairs Office, “Fact Sheet: Army Prepositioned Stocks,” June 27, 2024,  APS_Fact_Sheet_27062024.pdfhttps://www.europeafrica.army.mil/Portals/19/documents/Fact%20Sheets/APS_Fact_Sheet_27062024.pdf.

18. Tilghman, “Guam: Defense Infrastructure and Readiness,” 23.

19. Guam and CNMI Military Relocation, Volume 6: Related Actions – Utilities and Roadway Projects (Guam) Final EIS (July 2010), I-5,

20. Matthews and Holt, So Many, So Much, So Far, So Fast,  115.

21. Colonel Gregory J. Lengyel, USAF, “Department of Defense Energy Strategy Teaching an Old Dog New Tricks,” Maxwell Air Force Base, AL: Air University, Air War College, April 2007, 14, https://apps.dtic.mil/sti/tr/pdf/ADA476848.pdf.

Featured image: The Port of Guam as seen from the air in June 2021. (U.S. Coast Guard photo)

Fostering the Discussion on Securing the Seas.