All posts by Guest Author

Force Structure

Uncle Sam’s Canoe Club: Developing A Maritime Militia for the United States

4 Comments

By Jasper Campbell

Introduction

Much has been made about the threat of the People’s Armed Forces Maritime Militia (PAFMM) and its contributions to the burgeoning People’s Republic of China (PRC) maritime enterprise. However, the United States has an equally deep bench of maritime capacity in its troves of commercial and recreational mariners. The U.S. recreational boating community infamously entered the international zeitgeist ahead of the 2020 U.S. Presidential elections with the so-called “Trump Boat Parades.” In South Florida, hundreds of privately-owned civilian boats transited the Intracoastal Waterway to show their support for the one-time President. Similar protests in the Great Lakes and California followed suit. Many saw these demonstrations as political rancor manifest, however they illustrate latent maritime power within the United States. As the geopolitical tensions in the Indo-Pacific region coalesce into a fully-fledged maritime flashpoint, maritime capability across the conflict spectrum is exactly what the United States needs.

While the suggestion that 30-ft recreational center consoles with price tags upwards of a half-million dollars would form maritime militias might seem ridiculous, there is well-trodden historical precedent. There are myriad suitable missions suitable in a conflict or near conflict for such a force. Missions could range from the conventional: intelligence gathering or the insertion of special operations forces, to the novel: anti-submarine warfare (ASW) or even electronic warfare (EW). In South Florida, where many of these capable recreational and commercial mariners have extensive experience navigating the labyrinthine cays and reefs that comprise the Bahamian archipelago (just 50 miles away from the United States), the littorals of the Indo-Pacific would be familiar territory.

Thanks to the flexible statutory constraints of the U.S. Coast Guard Auxiliary and the surprisingly low threshold of converting commercial and private ships to armed combatants, it is clear is that with minimal effort, the United States can tap into a significant reservoir of maritime competence and capital to bring to bear in the Indo-Pacific. This piece is not intended to be prescriptive, but rather, in light of the prolific activities of the PAFMM in the South China Sea highlight that there is historical precedent for mobilizing its own unconventional maritime auxiliaries and highlight areas where such a force could be useful in the Indo-Pacific.

Historical Precedent

History is replete with examples of incorporating civilian vessels into naval operations from the celebrated to the obscure. Famously, in World War II during the evacuation at Dunkirk, thousands of “little ships” were called to action to evacuate Allied forces from the jaws of the Nazi war machine in continental Europe. Less prolific, but equally as substantive, the “Shetland Bus” saw Norwegian fisherman employed as smugglers for vital materiel from Scotland to Norway to aid resistance there throughout WWII.

At the same time across the Atlantic, writer Ernest Hemingway added another chapter to his larger-than-life persona by hunting German U-boats in the Straits of Florida from his custom sport fishing boat, Pilar. Armed with a radio, several rifles, and home-made depth charges, Hemingway trolled the Straits of Florida ostensibly fishing, while on the prowl for U-Boats.

This phenomenon extended to the rich, as well as the famous. In 1938, Vincent Astor used his 263-foot yacht, Nourmahal, to scout the Japanese defenses of the Marshall Islands under the guise of an oceanic expedition. He wrote a detailed report on yacht stationary and dispatched it to the White House to his friend President Roosevelt. By this time, President Roosevelt was no stranger to cloak and dagger activities by civilian mariners. At the precipice of American involvement in World War I, then Assistant Secretary of the Navy Roosevelt undertook a quiet campaign “procure seagoing yachts for immediate war duty.” He sought to convince his well-heeled New York society peers and was by all accounts successful; 90 members of the New York Yacht Club donated their yachts to the U.S. and British Royal Navy.

During the Falklands War, several United Kingdom commercial fishing trawlers were hastily converted to makeshift minesweepers under “Ships Taken Up From Trade” or STUFT. STUFT was the legal mechanism used by the Admiralty to acquire British flagged ships for government use during the conflict to move men, materiel, and stores. From luxury liners converted to troop carriers to fishing trawlers converted to sub-hunters, 47 British commercial vessels were activated at the behest of the First Sea Lord Admiral Sir Henry Leach who stated, “Man and support the Fleet. Money is no object.”

Modern Applications

There are numerous missions that a maritime militia force would be able to “plug in” and add instant value across the conflict spectrum. As luxury civilian small craft were once made with low-signature wood, today’s fiberglass vessels are also small and have a low-signature compared to most metal military vessels. By adding a simple towed array − especially the new generation of compact lightweight arrays like the thin line towed arrays − a civilian vessel could be leveraged as a remote sensor. Coupled with narcotics smuggling techniques such as tarping during daylight hours, maritime militia forces could be highly distributed, hard to find, and extremely useful, especially in a high-end conflict where a premium will be placed on capital assets.

Additionally, the low profiles, high maneuverability, and shallow drafts make militia forces well suited for special forces work. Here, vessels might be used to insert special forces with little to no modifications. While there are existing special forces delivery platforms that are meant to be clandestine, they tend to be overwhelmingly expensive. For a fraction of the budget, relatively low-profile fiberglass civilian vessels could undertake similar missions. 

In addition to more “traditional” uses of maritime militia forces, the advent of surveillance and electronic warfare technology is an area where militia forces might also excel. With minimal “missionizing,” by adding small but robust sensor packages, these small platforms could be a boon to intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance (ISR) work. Additionally, as electronic warfare grows more ubiquitous, the size of equipment is decreasing substantially, which may allow smaller platforms to perform similar missions, distributing risk and capability across less visible assets. Adding electronic warfare suites to small militia craft would be a game-changer when considered in concert with their ability to blend in in the “gray zone,” where they could deliver decisive blows to critical enemy systems. While militia forces may not directly match local small vessel traffic, by virtue of their size, they would blend in with the mass of smaller vessels in hot spots such as the Strait of Malacca. One need only consider the density of maritime traffic U.S. ships must navigate in the Indo-Pacific to appreciate the costs U.S. maritime militia assets could levy were they properly outfitted with offensive electronic warfare and ISR equipment.

The current Commandant of the Marine Corps, General David H. Berger, has presided over transformational changes to the U.S. Marine Corps operating model since his tenure began in 2019. He has a knack for making headlines every time he gives an interview or speech due to his penchant for innovation. One of the particularly interesting comments he made within the context of his signature “Expeditionary Advanced Basing Operations (EABO)” concept and the geography of the Indo-Pacific, was the need for “our forces to forage.” This notion has not been explored deeply, but a U.S. maritime militia force could present an interesting intersection with EABO. Theoretically, maritime militia forces would be drawn from highly competent civilian and commercial fishermen. They could act as “fleet foragers,” leveraging their existing fishing prowess to succor both stand-in forces or larger elements in the fleet. They could fish while simultaneously conducting sensor reliant reconnaissance or ASW missions, affording them a credible cover for plying the waters of the Indo-Pacific than as conspicuous combatants.

A Ready-Made Solution

Fortunately, the legal underpinnings for galvanizing a flexible volunteer maritime force capable of operating in distant waters and executing low-end missions in concert with the broader U.S. joint force are readily found in U.S. Code Article 14 Section 3902:

(a)In General. — The purpose of the Auxiliary is to assist the Coast Guard as authorized by the Commandant, in performing any Coast Guard function, power, duty, role, mission, or operation authorized by law.

(b)Limitation. —The Auxiliary may conduct a patrol of a waterway, or a portion thereof, only if—

(1) the Commandant has determined such waterway, or portion thereof, is navigable for purposes of the jurisdiction of the Coast Guard; or

(2) a State or other proper authority has requested such patrol pursuant to section 701 of this title or section 13109 of title 46.

While the Coast Guard Auxiliary is currently limited in its range of Commandant-approved missions and functions, its underlying authorities essentially allow it to mirror the capability of its Active Duty and Reserve counterparts, given the right training and resources. In short, a combatant or theater commander need but ask the Commandant of the Coast Guard, and the basic legal authorities and organizational structures already exist to quickly develop an operational maritime militia. Notably, this maritime militia would be capable of performing any Coast Guard function wherever operations were authorized by law.

The requirements for operating under a flag as a combatant are by no means beyond the administrative capability of any private citizen. Convention VII of the 1907 Hague Conference articulates six-point criteria for any private or merchant ship to serve as a flagged warship:

Article 1 – The converted ship must be placed under direct authority of the Flag State it represents.

Article 2 – The converted ship must bear the distinguishing marks of a warship.

Article 3 – The ship’s commander must be duly commissioned in service to the state and listed among fighting fleet officers.

Article 4 – Crew members must be subject to military discipline.

Article 5 – Ship operations must follow the laws and customs of war.

Article 6 – Belligerents must announce ship conversions in their official list of warships as soon as possible.

In the event of a crisis, these criteria, alongside the statutory authorities granted to the auxiliary by Federal Code, could streamline the conversion of any number of private vessel types for use by the United States. Current strategic guidance indicates that the 23,500-member auxiliary prioritizes the augmentation of under-served administrative and operational roles, such as operational boating safety, incident management, and cyber.

Despite this inherently domestic maritime focus, these forces could be readily augmented and redirected such that the Coast Guard Auxiliary could serve as a “break glass” maritime militia force. If prepared in advance, operational plans and administrative procedures would smooth the transition for operational forces that are ready to “plug in” to a joint task force or fleet architecture. Central to this, the important infrastructure – vessels, manpower, and most importantly, statutory authority to do so, are all prepared.

Wrap-Up

Obviously, a proposal for a maritime militia is likely to have numerous objections, chief among them:  

  • Why would the United States back such a fanciful proposal when there are plenty of maritime roles and responsibilities that will need filling in the advent of war?
  • Enemy combatant implications: Forces may be labeled as enemy combatants outright and therefore risk immediate destruction or capture.

Despite outward appearances, the historical record of using militia forces cleanly converges with modern needs in the Indo-Pacific region. To the first point, though there will undoubtedly be a need for maritime expertise in the advent of a conflict, the program outlined here would represent respectable savings in both time and money. A maritime militia force would leverage the existing expertise of patriotic mariners where they are, instead of forcing them into existing pipelines and structures, which would both cost money and take time. Essentially, they could function as a “ready-made” maritime force capable of filling gaps in the lower end of the conflict spectrum, which seems prescient, given the scheduled decommissioning of small surface combatants in the U.S. Navy.

To the second point, the designation of a maritime militia as enemy combatants is a possibility, though hard to gauge without understanding the character of the conflict. It is unlikely that an association with troop foraging would keep them out of the fight completely. However, if U.S. maritime militia forces were targeted, the People’s Republic of China assumes significant risk. Proportional responses will instantly place a target on their vast distant water fishing fleets and their less innocuous PAFMM. The decimation of their fishing fleet would exert intense pressure on the Chinese homeland which already struggles to meet growing protein demands, in conjunction with other domestic maladies.

Perhaps the counter to “why on earth would the United States undertake such a program?” is why would the United States not undertake such a program? Not making modest investments in such a program creates two significant risks. First, China is using their PAFMM to distinct advantage in gray zone operations. By neglecting to form similar capabilities, the U.S. loses the opportunity to meet PAFMM efforts and effects proportionally. Second, there are currently nearly twelve-million recreational motor vessels registered in the United States. While only a fraction of those vessels may be functionally useful within the envisioned context, if the robust size and capability of the U.S. Coast Guard Auxiliary is any indication, many hundreds, if not thousands of capable, motivated mariners and vessels could be rapidly acquired and fielded.

A U.S. maritime militia force in the Indo-Pacific will not win a war outright, but it does offer the low-cost ability to impact the balance of power at sea. As storm clouds brew in the Indo-Pacific and long-term planning within the U.S. defense establishment continues to be fraught, low cost, high yield maritime capacity of any stripe should not be left on the table.

Jasper Campbell served on active duty for six years in the afloat and C5I communities. He is the cofounder of simplevideo.io, a technology company that offers solutions for public safety and healthcare markets. He holds a bachelor’s degree in electrical engineering from the U.S. Coast Guard Academy.

Featured Image: Marina del Rey, California. (Photo by Pedro Szekely via Flickr.)

Capability Analysis

Adapting Navy Medicine for Future Warfighting: Scenario Thinking for Combat Casualty Care

Leave a comment

By Art Valeri, Jay Yelon, Juanita Hopkins, and Seamus Markey

In May 2018, the Chief of Naval Operations directed a comprehensive review of Navy Medicine’s ability to support Distributed Maritime Operations and Expeditionary Advanced Basing Operations across all warfighting domains.1 An effective strategy must anticipate the future environment. Although history shows that accurate forecasting is nearly impossible, scenario thinking can help prepare for multiple alternative futures.1, 4, Medical planning for future conflicts is a vital component of support of the National Security Strategy. Using lessons learned from past conflicts and predicting the needs of injured or ill service members are vital for planning. Although attention to conflict in the Pacific appears to be a priority, as it aligns with the national strategy, the Navy and Joint medical leadership must also prepare for various possibilities. Within our discussion, we will use scenario thinking as a framework to identify key questions for analysis.

We will approach our scenario thinking through a four-step process:

  • Identifying the driving forces
  • Identifying the critical uncertainties
  • Development of plausible scenarios
  • Discussion of implications and ways forward

Our discussion will focus on Navy Medicine fully understanding the limitations of this approach as the move towards a more joint approach is more effective and realistic. However, this same approach can serve equally effectively in joint discussions. In discussing implications and paths forward, we will utilize a framework of manning, training, and equipping our medical teams.

Identifying the Driving Forces

A common business approach to understanding the driving forces in a changing environment surveys political, economic, sociocultural, technological, legal and environmental (PESTLE) factors.5 It also applies to military healthcare and specifically to combat casualty care. Identification of legal and environmental forces is likely beyond the scope of this discussion, and as such will proceed with a PEST analysis.

Political: The National Security Strategy orients politics for military leaders in developing approaches for potential future conflict. Although this provides the framework, many factors influence the direction of leadership as contingencies and plans are made. The major focus revolves around the complex relationship with China and the potential conflict with Russia. Additionally, there is always the threat of terrorism, non-state actors, the impact of pandemic diseases, cyber threats and other concerns. All these issues will frame strategy and medical planning, as will the formation of the Defense Health Agency (DHA) and the implications for individual services’ medical services. The issues of joint medical forces operating in environments that are not native to the service can potentially cause points of friction if DHA sees this as an imperative.

Economic: Although financial solvency is not typically discussed within the military healthcare framework, discussions regarding supply chain, procurement, and sustainment costs at military treatment facilities and Veterans Affairs healthcare facilities is a significant burden. Procuring medical materials, drugs, and technology in potentially austere environments will be a significant logistics evolution. Supply will be directly impacted by supply chain issues for products produced outside the United States. Demand for new maritime platforms to support the medical mission will need to be addressed and budgeted.

Sociocultural Issues: These can have an impact depending upon the area of operation in which medical care is being provided. Understanding cultural norms for land-based operations will be essential. Additionally, within the Navy medical community, it may be necessary to broaden one’s job description and skillset. Understanding how that will be socialized within the Navy will be vital to providing individuals with the appropriate support for optimal patient outcomes. Recruitment and retention of highly skilled service members is an ongoing issue in our all-volunteer military. Competition with civilian positions, especially within the medical corps, will need to be addressed in some meaningful way.

Technology: Improvements in medical technology, artificial intelligence, and machine learning will have a deep impact in allowing us to address far-forward resuscitative and surgical care. Improvements in blood banking technology and the advent of shelf-storable blood substitutes will probably have the biggest impact on providing resuscitative care close to the point of injury. Cybersecurity will be a limiting factor in utilizing advanced technology for medical care. Mitigation strategies will be necessary for both cybersecurity and, in the situation where communication is lost, for sustainability of ongoing patient care. Demand for technological development will originate from the requirements incurred by operating from atypical platforms and environments requiring advanced medical care. The other impact of technology would include the evolution of new weaponry with effects still to be understood.

Critical Uncertainties

Many variables can influence the direction of combat casualty care for the next conflict. Over the past twenty years, the U.S. military has provided state-of-the-art trauma care in a land-based conflict, resulting in the development of a highly functioning trauma system. The mandate from the Secretary of Defense requiring access to surgical care within 60 minutes (the Golden Hour) nurtured an environment requiring high numbers of tactically distributed medical providers and the necessary support to achieve this benchmark. The patient outcomes demonstrate the effectiveness in which there was an unprecedented 94 percent survival rate if a wounded service member made it to surgical care within an hour of injury. Limiting the U.S. strategy to similar scenarios would be shortsighted. The top two trends that would likely have the biggest impact would be location of conflict (land vs. sea-based) and illness type (trauma vs non-trauma). Graphically, this might be represented as follows:

Quad chart depicting types of combat casualty care: Trauma vs. Non-Trauma, and Land-Based vs. Sea-Based
Figure 1: Quad chart depicting types of combat casualty care.

Non-Trauma illness would include all pathologies that would not require initial surgical care as a life-saving measure. This could include infectious diseases, including pandemics, chemical and radiation exposures, and other illness that would impact the war-fighting effort. Trauma, including burns, are injuries caused by kinetic activity. Beyond the current thinking this would include injury caused by new weaponry including directed energy weapons and other advanced technologies. As for location, a sea-based conflict would be burdened by time and space, what is now termed distributed maritime operations. In these situations, there may be access to land-based resources but these may be limited by control of sea lanes and cooperation from foreign governments. As one moves from one quadrant to the next, the demands for medical care can change drastically. It will be necessary in the future to incorporate non-traditional approaches to providing medical care while maintain the highest standards for quality. This will require leaders to think strategically and outside-the-box to develop solutions for complex patient care and environmental issues.

Plausible Scenarios

Land-Based/Non-trauma: The illness complex in this scenario is potentially vast and has the potential to deal with illnesses that we know little or nothing about. A pandemic or other highly communicative disease intersecting with a land-based war would be challenging. In highly contagious diseases, the transmission rate could produce hundreds of patients in a short time. Additionally, if this is an unknown pathogen issue related to treatments and protection of healthcare providers is amplified. High patient volumes would preclude evacuation and would require prolonged care at the epicenter of the outbreak.

Similarly, in a chemical or radiation event, issues related to healthcare provider access and evacuation concerns would be paramount. In any disease state that would require critical care treatments, including mechanical ventilation, continuous infusion medications, or organ support technology (i.e., dialysis), equipment and supply issues would pose a logistics concern. Finally, ethical decisions regarding withholding care would be required to do the greatest good for the greatest number.

Land-Based/Trauma: This scenario is the most familiar to healthcare providers and leaders, as this represents a situation we have effectively dealt with over the past two decades in Afghanistan and Iraq. In that conflict, Navy Medicine was able to participate in a highly functional joint services trauma system that resembles CONUS civilian trauma system. Patient care was driven by evidence-based medicine, outcomes were tracked, and performance improvement was incorporated. The variable that permitted such a highly functioning system was air superiority. What if there was no control of the air? How would our approach to similar injuries differ? Evacuation times would be prolonged, and demands for prolonged care would be required at both role-2 and 3 facilities. The resupply of materials, including medications and blood, would be challenging. Specialized care, typically provided CONUS during the last conflict, would not be readily available because of extended evacuation times.

Sea-Based/Non-trauma: In a sea-based scenario, the issues of space and time become major influences in decision-making. Furthermore, if the disease process originates on a naval vessel, all levels of care are determined by the type of vessel and the organic medical capabilities. In the case of a carrier, the medical resources are limited for the population it serves. Although the carrier strike group has a more robust capability, evacuating critically ill patients may not be possible. In fact, evacuation may not be wise, as this may spread the disease across vessels. If the United States and its Allies are not in control of the sea lanes, then evacuation becomes even more complicated. The issues of patient volume, equipment, and ethics, as in the land-based scenario, are mirrored here but become complicated by time/space and control of the air and sea.

Sea-Based/Trauma: The U.S. Navy has not had to confront sustained mass casualties at sea since WWII. The complexity of dealing with a large volume of severely injured patients in a maritime setting is unique and amplified by the issues of time and distance. Shipboard capabilities vary by platform, and medical expertise may be limited or nonexistent. The challenges of limited supply, medications, and blood further complicate the care of the injured. The organic medical capabilities of the ship may be destroyed by the attack. The damage to the ship will influence holding and evacuation capabilities. Finally, control of sea line and air will greatly influence the delivery of care and the evacuation of the injured.

Implications and Paths

On review of the possible scenarios, several unifying themes start to emerge to address some of the current limitations for the United States. The recommendations allow leaders and front-line workers to consider the way forward for innovation. First, if one considers the issues of the inability to evacuate patients several nodes can be addressed to impact both. The U.S. military medical community needs to utilize providers, beyond physicians, outside their usual job descriptions. This would allow force multiplication to impact many patients in a wide geographic space. The magnitude and effectiveness of enlisted personnel provide a powerful, often under-utilized, workforce that would allow for the delivery of time sensitive, lifesaving interventions in a dispersed environment.

This can only be possible by leveraging technology to improve patient care. Technological innovation can address many of the areas of concern in this discussion. Specifically, telehealth capabilities need to be expanded and applied across the continuum of patient care. Integral to the exploitation of telehealth is to assure adequate cyber security. Although technology may allow the force multiplication is a dispersed environment, consideration for the potential negative effects must be considered. Issues related to the technology itself, such as latency or disconnect must be considered; and the potential issues with the end users, such as failure to recognize complications or the inability to continually monitor a patient following intervention. Some of these negative effects may be mitigated by investment in innovative diagnostic and therapeutic modalities will permit far-forward advanced patient care. These innovations must include artificial intelligence and machine learning to assist caregivers with diagnoses and decision-making. To address issues of resupply, investment in unmanned vehicles, both land, and sea-based, for the specific purpose of resupply and equipment delivery needs to be made. Exploring more capabilities of 3-D and advanced printing can also address some of the resupply concerns.

The issue of prolonged field care touches on all four quadrants of our scenario. Again, leveraging technology for telehealth, innovation in diagnostics and therapeutics, and artificial intelligence to assist caregivers are vital in assuring optimal outcomes. Congruently, novel ideas for patient transport will need to be addressed. New concepts of maritime-based vehicles allowing for transport while advanced and critical care is provided to patients will be necessary. Medically, we will need to explore ideas of “suspended animation” to allow time to be effectively slowed for the patient thereby mitigating the effects of delayed access to specialty care.

Finally, all the scenarios presented pose ethical concerns if we use the experience from our last conflict as our benchmark. For the past two decades, we achieved an unparalleled survival rate. This success may not be achieved in our next conflict. As such, we believe it will be necessary to address the ethics of these potential scenarios. We will need thought leaders to address concerns and provide guidance in limiting medical care. We will need to understand the “breakpoint” between patient salvage and provider safety and redefine the concepts of futility with large-scale illness or injury.

Conclusion

Navy Medicine is likely to face numerous challenges in future conflicts. The framework provided here should enable further discussion of planning for medical care for future conflicts beyond that of a near peer confrontation in the USINDOPACOM area of operations. Although many of the unifying features of all the scenarios are applicable to this focus, more opportunities arise from the discussion of non-trauma scenarios and conflicts without control of the air or sea. Benefits of exploring in this way include addressing potential blind spots by listening to and incorporating critical thinking and input from expertise outside medicine (engineering, economics, education, industrial psychology); this will be the necessary for the successful response of Navy Medicine and Joint Medical Forces to future conflicts.

Authors’ note: This article resulted from a group project for Naval Postgraduate School course GB3400: Critical Thinking for Strategic Leadership. The course is centered on students developing their critical and strategic thinking skills, and to better understand how to use critical thinking as a tool for strategic leadership in and of organizations and its importance for national security.

Commander (Dr.) Art Valeri is an Operative Dentist stationed at NMRTC Great Lakes serving as the Department Head/Chief, Dental Service of the Veterans and Military Staff Hospital Dental Clinic, Captain James A. Lovell Federal Health Care Center, North Chicago, IL.

Commander (Dr.) Jay Yelon is a US Navy Trauma Surgeon stationed at the Military-Civilian Partnership at the University of Pennsylvania. He is a Professor of Surgery at the Uniformed Services University of Health Sciences, F. Edward Hebert School of Medicine.

Lieutenant Commander Juanita Hopkins is Registered Nurse and resident student at the Naval Postgraduate School, Monterey, California.

Lieutenant Seamus Markey is a US Navy Human Resources Officer serving as the Human Performance Program Officer at Recruit Training Command, Great Lakes, IL.

References

1. Gillingham B, Dagher K. Letter in response to Joint Integrative Solutions for Combat Casualty Care in a Pacific War at Sea. JFQ 96, 1st Quarter; 2020.
2. National Defense Strategy 2022. defense.gov. Accessed September 14, 2022.
3. Kahn H. In Defense of Thinking. https://www.hudson.org/national-security-defense/in-defense-of-thinking. 2020.
4. Augier M, Barrett S. Cultivating Critical and Strategic Thinkers. Marine Corps Gazette. July 2019.
5. Walsh K, Bhagavatheeswaran L, Roma E. E-learning in healthcare professional education: an analysis of political, economic, social, technological, legal and environmental (PESTLE) factors. MedEdPublish; 2018, p 97.

Featured Image: PHILLIPINE SEA (April 20, 2022) Hospital Corpsman 2nd Class Anthony Castro, from Kissimmee, Fla., assigned to amphibious transport dock ship USS John P. Murtha (LPD 26) stabilizes the head and neck of a simulated casualty during a Mass Casualty Drill. (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 2nd Class Curtis D. Spencer)

Force Development

Incubators of Sea Power: Naval Combat Training in the PLA Surface Fleet

1 Comment

These republished selections originally featured in the report, “Incubators of Sea Power: Vessel Training Centers and the Modernization of the PLAN Surface Fleet,” published by the China Maritime Studies Institute of the U.S. Naval War College. These selections are republished with permission.

By Ryan D. Martinson

Basic training conducted at Vessel Training Centers (VTCs) is essential to PLAN preparations for high-end conflict in maritime East Asia, which is the primary focus of China’s current military strategy. The surface force, working in conjunction with PLAN aviation, submarines, and coastal defense missile batteries, plus relevant units from the PLA Air Force and PLA Rocket Forces, would be expected to vie for “command of the sea” (制海权) in key operational areas within the first island chain and contest U.S. operations in waters beyond. Yet very little is known about the VTCs charged with helping them prepare to do that. This report seeks to fill this knowledge gap by providing an overview of VTCs— who they are, what they do, and how they do it—and examining some of the main factors affecting their effectiveness.

In particular, this report tracks recent efforts by the PLAN’s VTCs to evolve to meet the requirements of a rapidly expanding and modernizing surface fleet. This expansion/modernization began in the early 2000s, with the development of new classes of destroyers, frigates, and fast attack craft, but has accelerated since Xi Jinping came to power in late 2012. In the last decade, the PLAN has invested massive resources into new construction of advanced surface combatants, from stealthy corvettes intended for “near seas” operations to amphibious assault ships designed to project Chinese naval power throughout the Indo-Pacific and beyond. The PLAN’s embrace of surface warfare has placed huge stresses on the VTCs—to train more ship crews, to keep pace with new technologies and mission sets, and to ensure that training quality matches Beijing’s aspirations for a “world-class” navy. This report argues that despite some enduring challenges, the PLAN’s VTCs have generally succeeded in adapting to these new requirements.

VTCs serve two core missions. The first is to provide “basic training” to crews of newly commissioned surface vessels and older surface vessels that have completed major repairs, upgrades, or extended maintenance and need to be prepared to return to active status. Most classes of PLAN surface ships receive basic training at VTCs. This ranges from fast attack craft to hospital ships, corvettes to cruisers. VTCs are not responsible for training the crews of aircraft carriers. Ships enter VTCs as “Class 2” (二类) vessels (nondeployable) and, assuming they meet all requirements and pass all tests, depart for their operational units as deployable assets (“Class 1,” 一类). The VTCs second core mission is to conduct formal “evaluations” (考核) to ensure that the ship as a whole meets basic standards of readiness and that individual sailors meet the training requirements for their respective posts. These evaluations occur over the course of basic training. Basic training also culminates in a final “comprehensive training evaluation” (全训合格考核) that determines whether or not the ship can be certified for deployment.

The basic training conducted at VTCs is comparable to “Basic Phase” training done by the U.S. Navy’s surface force. VTCs themselves are analogues of the U.S. Navy’s Afloat Training Groups. Like with the U.S. Navy, basic training received at VTCs lays a tactical and technical foundation for the crews of individual ships to conduct more advanced training in conjunction with other ships (“surface action groups,” or ship “formations” in PLAN parlance), other arms of the navy (air, submarine, etc.), and the joint force…

…Ships are “stationed” (驻训) at VTCs for the duration of basic training. This allows the crew to focus entirely on the task at hand and use the dedicated training equipment and facilities available at the VTC. There is no explicit timeline within which basic training must be completed, but in practice it typically takes 6-12 months for a newly-commissioned ship to pass the comprehensive training evaluation. This differs from the U.S. Navy’s basic phase training, which is intended to last precisely 24 weeks (5.5 months).

While each VTC has some latitude to decide how it fulfills its training and evaluation missions, all must strictly adhere to a set of “Outlines on Military Training and Evaluation” (军事训练与考核大 纲, OMTE). The PLA issues a general, military-wide OMTE containing key principles that inform the development of a narrower set of OMTEs for each service.

To date, the PLA has issued three military-wide OMTEs. The first was issued in 2001, going into effect on January 1, 2002. Among other aims, the 2002 OMTE sought to ensure that training evaluations were true assessments of capabilities instead of “theatrical performance.” The 2009 update sought to increase the quantity of combined arms training, focus more on operations in complex electromagnetic environments, augment use of simulators, expand training for non-war military operations, increase “confrontation” (i.e., blue/red) training, and raise standards for basic training. These new requirements directly impacted the policies and approaches of the VTCs. Very little is known about the 2018 OMTE, as the PLA did not allow any media commentary about its contents. Four years later, key themes contained within it remain largely unknown. Each military-wide OMTE begets a separate set of service-specific OMTEs. These documents, in turn, inform the development of OMTEs for different service arms, and in the case of the PLAN surface force, OMTEs for each ship class. VTC instructors adhere to existing OMTEs for ships they are training, and they also help develop OMTEs for new classes of ships.

… Over time, the focus of at-sea training transitions from basic proficiency to handling complex scenarios under stressful situations. The experience of the Type 052D destroyer Qiqiha’er is a case in point. In October 2020, just two months after her commissioning, the Northern Theater Command Navy VTC took the Qiqiha’er out for seven days of training in the Yellow Sea. The training involved 20+ subjects, including firing the ship’s main gun against a surface target (an “enemy frigate”), missile defense (by simulating the firing of the ship’s surface to air missiles and actual firing of its close-in weapons systems—CIWS), man overboard recovery, and underway replenishment.

Basic training at VTCs involves use of live ordnance. Surface combatants fire their main guns against surface targets or targets ashore, CIWS against target drones, rocket-propelled depth charges, and surface-to-air and anti-ship missiles. Ships engaged in at-sea training also use onboard combat systems to simulate the firing of missiles and torpedoes.

Though the focus of basic training is on developing the technical and tactical capabilities of individual ships, VTCs will organize two or more ships to train together at sea, often for several days at a time. For example, in February 2021 the North Sea Fleet VTC took out eight ships for five days of at-sea training in the Yellow Sea. Participants included the Type 056A corvette Zhangjiakou; the Type 052D destroyers Huai’nan, Qiqiha’er, and Tangshan; and the auxiliary Beilan 770.

The composition of training groups changes over time, as some ships complete their training/evaluations and return to the fleet and new ships arrive. For example, in July 2021 the Type 052D destroyer Huai’nan that participated in the February 2021 training event (described in the previous paragraph), departed with another group of ships for six days of training in the Yellow Sea: the Dongpinghu (Type-903A), Kaifeng (052D), Xinji (056A), and Dongying (056A)…

A ship undergoing basic training at the Northern Theater Command Navy VTC fires a surface-to-air missile. (Photo via People’s Navy)

… Despite going out as a group, the focus remains on individual ships. But in some cases, two or more ships in the group will operate together to fulfill training requirements. For example, the preferred PLAN approach to ASW requires multiple ships, aircraft, and other platforms working in close concert. Therefore, ASW training will sometimes involve two or more ships in the group, plus embarked helicopters… 

…In at least some, perhaps all, cases, ships engaged in basic training at VTCs conduct more advanced “formation training” (编队训练). This involves members of a task force operating together as a surface action group, synergizing their efforts to complete tasking. For example, in October 2021 the Northern Theater Command Navy VTC took out two Type 052D destroyers (the Huai’nan and the Kaifeng) and three Type 056A corvettes for five days of formation training in the Yellow Sea. While at sea, the five ships practiced joint air defense involving simulated attacks against enemy aircraft, joint fires strikes against enemy-held islands, mine countermeasures, and surveillance and countersurveillance. Video footage of the training shows the ships operating in conjunction with at least one China Coast Guard vessel, demonstrating the ability of VTCs to enlist forces from other services to support training goals. By contrast, the U.S. Navy defers task force and combined arms training until after Basic Phase training is complete.

At-sea training organized by VTCs is designed to be “realistic” (实战化), i.e., to approximate real combat situations. This involves bringing a ship (or small group of ships) to sea and forcing crews to demonstrate mastery of the training subject in unpredictable circumstances. Ships receive orders to leave port to respond to a particular crisis—e.g. the menacing presence of an enemy warship—and must be prepared to cope with threats almost immediately upon departure. Inevitably, the crisis will escalate and the Chinese ship will be ordered to simulate an attack on the enemy combatant. The ship’s crew might also be forced to fend off attack from an enemy aircraft or evade an enemy missile. The purpose of at-sea training is to place crew members under stress to improve their ability to apply skills developed ashore (in simulators) to real world circumstances. These combat scenarios are created by VTC staff members, who also observe and critique the crew’s responses to them.

To further bolster realism, VTCs will sometimes enlist the help of other PLAN units to serve as adversary (i.e., “blue”) forces. For example, while conducting basic training in 2013, the Type 056 corvette Bengbu trained with a PLAN submarine. In December 2015, the Type 052D destroyer Changsha conducted “confrontation” training with PLAN submarines, aircraft, and other ships. The PLAN’s emphasis on “realism” differs from the U.S. Navy’s Basic Phase training, the focus of which is to ensure that crew members develop the technical skills to perform their jobs. While creating “realistic” scenarios is cited as a U.S. Navy training aim, it clearly does not reach the same degree of priority as in the PLAN. In fact, unit-level combat scenarios designed to stress the whole crew only occur during the “Final Battle Problem”—a 2-3 day event at the end of the Basic Phase. Moreover, unlike the PLAN the U.S. Navy does not generally involve real aircraft or submarines to serve as adversary (“red”) forces in the Basic Phase…

Improving Training Quality

At the same time that VTCs have strived to expand capacity, they have also sought to improve the quality of the training they provide. This has not been easy. At the core of this effort has been the development and improvement of a system of “training supervision” (训练监察). Initially, in the early 2000s, this involved the creation of a Training Supervision Department in each VTC, which later evolved into a set of committees charged with the task of monitoring training quality, providing feedback, and (as discussed below) ensuring the integrity of evaluations. Training “supervisors” ( 监察员) point out problems/failings of individual crew members and weaknesses in the performance of the ship as a whole. They record these problems in dossiers, which can be reviewed by the training staff and officers aboard the ship undergoing training so that adjustments can be made. For example, Eastern Theater Command Navy VTC training supervisor Liu Zhiwan (刘志皖) noted eleven specific problems during a 2017 ASW training event. Among these, “the ship CO’s tactical awareness was not strong, the sonar operator lacked a clear mastery of the [tactical] situation, and the towed array was deployed at the wrong time.”

VTCs’ pedagogy has evolved over time to foster better training outcomes. For years, VTCs employed what was called a “nanny style” (保姆式) approach. That meant that VTC instructors did the bulk of actual teaching. This approach resulted in passivity among ship officers and “weakened the initiative” of ship COs. In 2010, the East Sea Fleet VTC, taking its cues from new OMTE requirements, revised its approach by empowering COs to take greater responsibility in organizing training for their ships. This reportedly increased the agency and creativity of the COs. Henceforth, they were responsible for organizing training for “ordinary” training subjects. The CO took the lead, with VTC staff providing assistance. They were also allowed a greater role in the organization of more important training subjects. The new approach, called a “guiding style” (指导式), “fully mobilized the initiative and creativity” of ship COs….

….VTCs have taken steps to ensure a highly-motivated training staff. By 2013, the leaders of the North Sea Fleet VTC, for example, had concluded that the attitudes of instructors assigned there were too lax. The problem was that the job was too “stable,” so that some of them “lacked enterprising spirit.” To stimulate greater zeal for their work, the North Sea Fleet VTC instituted an “incentive mechanism” and began providing extra compensation for high-performing training captains, trainers, and mission area experts.

VTCs have also instituted mechanisms that allow sailors receiving training to provide feedback on particular instructors or instructional practices. For example, the South Sea Fleet VTC invited sailors to complete appraisals of their instructors and mission area experts. Staff members with negative appraisals were reprimanded for their failings. Students dissatisfied with the quality of instruction can also provide feedback directly to training supervisors at the VTC.

A Northern Theater Command VTC staff member observes at-sea training. (via CCTV)

Evaluation: Making Sure the Ship is Ready to Fight

Evaluations are the method by which the PLAN ensures that desired levels of technical and tactical training proficiency are reached for all training subjects. They are also seen as an instrument—in their words, a “command stick” (指挥棒)—to force units to train hard and well…

…After the ship passes all subject evaluations, it can proceed to the comprehensive training evaluation. Taking place at sea over the course of two or more days, the comprehensive training evaluation is both a judgment of the competence of the ship’s commanding officer (and other senior officers) and the competence of the ship as a whole. The core focus is on “integrated offense/defense” (综合攻防), i.e. engaging multiple threats from all three domains (air, surface, and subsurface). PLA media coverage of these events often shows footage of the CO and XO in the ship’s CIC, issuing orders to neutralize (or avoid) enemy threats. Behind them stand members of the “evaluation group” (考核组), who judge the correctness of their words and actions given the situations that they face. Other members of the evaluation group are likely dispersed around the ship, observing the performance of other crew members.

During comprehensive training evaluations, surface combatants will live-fire weapons systems including main guns, CIWS, and rocket-propelled depth charges. When engaging aerial threats, they will launch decoys. When engaging enemy submarines, they will simulate the firing of torpedoes.

To mimic real combat conditions, comprehensive training evaluations are unscripted. Ships put to sea without any knowledge of the challenges they will face. Therefore, these events are naturally very stressful for the CO and the crew. PLAN officers often describe the years of preparation and the culminating event as “more difficult than getting a PhD.”

To further increase realism, VTCs will involve outside units to serve as “blue” aggressor forces. For example, in December 2021 the Northern Theater Command Navy VTC organized three ships—the destroyer Harbin and corvettes Xinji and Songyuan—to participate in a 72-hour comprehensive training evaluation. VTC staff members responsible for organizing the evaluation enlisted the participation of other PLAN surface vessels, at least one PLAN submarine, PLAN early warning and strike aircraft, PLAN observation and communications stations, and electronic warfare forces.

Chief of Staff of the Eastern Theater Command Navy VTC, CAPT Zhang Jinjun, discusses the importance of “realism” during comprehensive training evaluations. CAPT Zhang’s red badge identifies him as the head of the evaluation group for this particular evaluation. (via CCTV)

Ensuring the Integrity of Evaluations

… The PLAN does not release its OMTEs, so little is known about its standards of proficiency. But it does openly discuss its struggle to ensure rigorous enforcement of its evaluation standards, which has been long and not completely successful.

The first challenge to the integrity of evaluations is institutional. Specifically, groups and individuals who have an interest in high success rates for evaluations have been allowed to play key roles in the evaluation process. Through the 1990s, the task of evaluating training proficiency was the job of VTC staff members in charge of training. In PLAN parlance, “whoever organized training did the evaluations” (谁组训谁考核). This practice was later recognized as hugely problematic, since trainers had a professional interest in seeing high pass rates because it reflected well on them. As a result, “training was not realistic and evaluations lacked rigor” (训练不实、考核不严), and ships judged certified sometimes fell short when conducting real-world operations.

The VTCs took steps to mitigate this problem in the early 2000s. Responsibility for evaluating crew performance was stripped from training staff and assigned to training supervisors (discussed above). Supervisory organizations evolved over time, but the principle remained the same: namely, to “separate training from evaluations” (训考分离). But assigning training and evaluation to different staff members within the same organization is also problematic, since the organization has a strong interest in passing ships that received training there. High success rates reflect well on the training organization. In theory, VTCs have rules preventing senior leaders from directly interfering in evaluation results. However, that has not always stopped them from trying to exert influence. Moreover, members of the evaluation group no doubt feel indirect pressure to act for the benefit of the organization to which they belong.

This conflict of interest was not just a problem in the PLAN. Early in Xi Jinping’s tenure, the PLA recognized that organizations responsible for conducting training should not also be responsible for evaluating training outcomes. Doing so resulted in a lack of focused training, obsession with safety, exercises that were highly scripted (演习念稿子), formalism (形式主义; i.e., focus on image, not substance), and a tendency to fake results (弄虚作假). To remedy this problem, in 2014 the PLA as a whole began embracing principles of training supervision that relied on evaluators external to the organization undertaking training.

For its part, the PLAN took steps to create “third parties” responsible for supervising comprehensive training evaluations. By 2016, the East Sea Fleet, for example, was organizing third party “joint evaluation groups” (联合考核组) to evaluate officers for ship command. This resulted in more objective evaluations and much higher failure rates. By 2018, the Eastern Theater Command Navy Staff Department had begun sending teams to supervise evaluations of ships that had received training at the VTC. As a result, according to the VTC Deputy Director, Wu Guoyu (吴国瑜), “judgments had become more objective and accurate, and some problems with training had been exposed more prominently.” These accounts suggest that the involvement of the Fleet (now Theater Command Navy) Staff Department has strengthened the integrity of comprehensive training evaluations and improved overall training quality….

….What is clear is that institutional and cultural problems have undermined the PLAN’s efforts to ensure that ship crews actually meet all the training standards outlined in the OMTEs. This is done through formal evaluations over the course of basic training and a final, multi-day comprehensive training evaluation held after basic training is complete. VTCs have strong incentives to give passing marks to all ships/crews that they train, because doing so reflects well on them. However, in recent years the PLAN—following guidance from above—has implemented a system that involves “third party” entities in the evaluation process. These teams of experts from the Theater Command Navy Staff Department are more insulated from institutional pressures to achieve high success rates. By some accounts, this new system is yielding more objective assessments….

…Despite similar timelines, PLAN basic training appears to cover more content than U.S. Navy Basic Phase training. After completing basic training and passing all evaluations, PLAN vessels are expected to be ready for almost immediate deployment, as single ships or as members of “ship formations” (i.e., surface action groups). Therefore, basic training includes subjects such as joint ASW, joint air defense, and joint search and rescue, which the U.S. Navy leaves for later phases in the training process. Moreover, PLAN basic training concludes with a multi-day comprehensive training evaluation that certifies that a ship and its CO are ready for action. The U.S. Navy’s Basic Phase does not.

Lastly, PLAN basic training places much heavier emphasis on training ship crews under “realistic” combat conditions. The aim is to force sailors to demonstrate competence in unpredictable circumstances, under stress, and against “blue” aggressor forces enlisted for the purpose. Except for a 2-3 day capstone Final Battle Problem, reserved until the end of Basic Phase training, the U.S. Navy does not prioritize training under realistic conditions until months later, during follow-on training phases.

Ryan D. Martinson is a researcher in the China Maritime Studies Institute at the Naval War College. He holds a master’s degree from the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy at Tufts University and a bachelor’s of science from Union College. Martinson has also studied at Fudan University, the Beijing Language and Culture University, and the Hopkins-Nanjing Center.

Featured Image: The guided-missile frigate Xuchang (Hull 536) attached to a destroyer flotilla with the navy under the PLA Southern Theater Command fires its close-in weapon system at mock sea targets during a maritime training exercise in waters of the South China Sea in late March, 2020. (eng.chinamil.com.cn/Photo by Li Hongming and Li Wei)

Capability Analysis

From Eyes Above: Information Architectures for Striking Maritime Targets

2 Comments

By Richard Mosier

One of the six force design imperatives in the CNO’s NAVPLAN 2022 is, “Expand Distance: Long-range precision fires across all domains and platforms with greater reach to enable naval forces to strike hostile targets while increasing our own survivability.”1 This design imperative has been partially achieved with the fielding of LRASM, Naval Strike Missile (NSM), Harpoon, SM-6, and forthcoming Maritime Strike Tomahawk, all designed to strike maritime targets at long ranges. However, the effective employment of these weapons against moving ships depends upon timely target location data for targeting, strike mission planning, and target location updates to strike aircraft and missiles enroute to the target. As the Navy expands the scope of its anti-ship arsenal, it needs to consider a concurrent expansion of the information architecture that is needed to employ these weapons at range.

Maritime Targeting Factors

Ships are moving targets, though only at the relatively slow speed of 30 knots. Even at that speed, the area of uncertainty of a target location expands rapidly as time accrues from the original launch of the weapon to the missile’s terminal acquisition of the target. A target location circle estimate of probability (CEP) of three square nautical miles at time of launch increases dramatically, as shown in Figure 1.

Figure 1. Growing area of probability based on 30knot speed of target. (Author graphic)

The size of the target location probability area is a function of the potential speed of the moving target and the time accrued from sensor data collect, to the tactical decision to launch the strike mission, and the availability of target location updates to the in-flight weapons and launch platforms. As with all engagements of moving targets, the attacking platform or weapon has to arrive in a target probability area that is small enough for their organic sensors to successfully acquire the target. Maintaining timely target location data is the critical factor in effectively cueing missiles and launch aircraft toward a point where they can then acquire the target with organic sensors. The acceptable target probability area varies based on the performance characteristics of the launch aircraft and missiles with respect to range, velocity, terminal target acquisition sensor performance, and capability for in-flight updates. The launch platforms and missile themselves often lack the organic sensor capability to secure much of this information themselves, especially when striking targets that could be hundreds of miles away. This creates a dependence on nonorganic sources for targeting and cueing information, which often take the form of highly specialized sensing platforms and capability architectures.

The time from last sensing to receipt of the target location update by the launch platform or the in-flight missile is the key determinant in the size of the target probability area, and the probability of striking the intended target. But this time can be considerable given the steps involved. The maritime strike process involves the following sequential steps: search, detect, locate, classify/identify, target (assign mission), track, plan mission, satisfy ROE, launch missile, provide target location updates, acquire intended target, strike target, and assess damage. The time it takes to satisfy the needs of this process increases the demand for timely information as the steps are being executed.

Rules of Engagement are promulgated to tactical echelons by the operational commander. One of the key constraints is to not strike non-belligerents. This constraint is a major driver of the anti-ship missile launch decision, and the launch decision-maker is responsible for assuring the missile strikes the target and not a non-belligerent. In-flight target updates provided by the decision-maker have to address not only the target ship, but also nearby non-belligerent shipping, which can substantially congest the area of uncertainty around a target. Multi-modal seeker capabilities, such as electro-optical, infrared, and passive receiver capabilities can also be used by the missile itself to help discriminate and validate targets.

Maritime Strike Targeting Alternatives 

The capabilities required to track and satisfy ROE are unique for striking moving warships. Airborne assets are often considered to bring considerable information capability for facilitating maritime strike. Yet airborne assets have vulnerabilities in a contest with a peer such as China or Russia. Both countries have operational counter-air and fleet air defense capabilities that constitute a formidable threat to non-stealthy airborne surveillance and reconnaissance platforms. While these capabilities can make a substantial contribution prior to the first missile exchanges, they will be high-priority targets whose endurance in conflict is questionable. This suggests these legacy platforms will have to operate from protected airspace, and the calculation of risk will have to be balanced between survivability versus collecting information through greater proximity to the adversary. It also suggests the need to consider a transition from these legacy systems to stealthy airborne platforms or to relying more on space-based assets.

Satellites have their vulnerabilities as well. China and Russia surely have electronic and kinetic capabilities to attack satellites in orbit and threaten their complex worldwide ground infrastructure. The threat to satellites in orbit appears to be partially offset by the rapid proliferation of commercial satellites and the DoD strategy of orbiting hundreds of small, interlinked satellites that will be more resilient to wartime disruption. Yet the satellite, land, and undersea cable communications infrastructure that support satellite operations are also vulnerable to disruption from physical, cyber, and electronic attack.2

The architecture for providing airborne or satellite support to maritime strike in a great power conflict has to be designed for wartime resilience and assured minimum essential support for the effective employment of anti-ship weapons. This suggests some level of sensor system autonomy so they can provide support when their infrastructures are disrupted. It also suggests a link from the air and space sensor systems directly to the operational and tactical echelons that perform the maritime strike targeting functions.

To achieve the required track continuity, one option is a multi-mode sensor system that combines on the same platform the near-continuous wide-area search capability with another capability or mode for classifying detected contacts. Airborne systems such as JSTARS, U2, GLOBAL HAWK, P-8, and TRITON are examples. They provide integrated multi-sensor capabilities on a single platform, thereby avoiding the complexities and time delays inherent in coordinating various elements of collection by separate platforms. In most cases, they also provide datalinks for the dissemination of data directly to operational and tactical echelons. Yet these airborne systems may have challenges with survivability and endurance in a heavily contested battlespace, which encourages the development of ISR architecture in other domains.

One option for providing the critical data is a constellation of a large number of reconnaissance satellites that can provide the wartime resilience, frequency of coverage, and multiple sensor types that combine wide-area search with target classification capability. Ideally they would be able to pass this information directly to in-flight missiles and warfighters with launch authorities. But so far as these capabilities cannot currently be integrated onto a single satellite, the next best solution is a tightly integrated cluster of different types of satellites in the same orbital plane. This integration into clusters is required to avoid the complexities, vulnerabilities, and large time delays associated with orchestrating multiple, separately managed space systems.

The technology for satellite clusters exists, including onboard data processing, satellite-to-satellite crosslinks, and direct downlink of information and data to deployed land and ship tactical systems. As an example, BAE is developing an integrated cluster of reconnaissance satellites that has been described as:

“Azalea is planned as a cluster of three multi-sensor satellites from BAE Systems and one satellite with Iceye synthetic aperture radar (SAR) technology. Together, the satellites will collect optical, radar, and radio frequency (RF) data. The satellites will also be equipped with edge processors to analyze data while in orbit. BAE Systems announced the cluster on Sept. 7, with intent to launch in 2024.”3

If fielded in sufficient numbers, integrated clusters of reconnaissance satellites such as these offer the prospect of reduced dependence on vulnerable supporting infrastructures, minimal dependence on a cumbersome requirements and collection management structure, and the near real-time direct reporting of target information to tactical forces that can satisfy maritime strike requirements.

The Space Force and Space Development Agency’s seven-layered National Defense Space Architecture has been renamed the Proliferated Warfighter Space Architecture (PWSA), a decision taken to more clearly reflect the mission, and to avoid confusion with other DoD satellite constellations in orbit or planned.4 From the tactical perspective, the architecture will have to provide target location updates from offboard air and space ISR systems via LINK 16, the Integrated Broadcast Service (IBS), or the direct downlink of sensor data to systems in direct support of the strike and in pursuit of moving targets.

A representation of what the National Defense Space Architecture will look like. (Space Development Agency graphic)

The PWSA, which addresses these interfaces, is more than a vision. The first 24 satellites in the transport layer are scheduled for launch in March 2023; an additional 128 in 2024; leading to a planned constellation of 300 to 500 satellites in low earth orbit. This architecture includes optical satellite-to-satellite cross links, satellite-to-aircraft cross links, satellite downlinks to air, land, and ship entities, and LINK 16 and Integrated Broadcast Service message interfaces with tactical terminals. Although not confirmed, logic would suggest this architecture also applies to satellite reconnaissance capabilities required for targeting ships, and could stand to substantially increase maritime strike capability.

A breakdown of commercial satellite capability and numbers. (Author graphic)

The Way Ahead

From the technical perspective, satellite solutions are feasible and uniquely capable of offering the performance required for the employment of long-range anti-ship missiles against moving targets. The next step is for the Navy and Air Force to define the performance requirements and conduct the analysis of space and non-space alternatives. If the analysis supports a decision for a satellite reconnaissance solution for this mission need, JROC approval would force, or at least speed, the resolution of any remaining policy issues regarding the architecture, the acquisition, and in particular, the tasking and operation of satellite reconnaissance capabilities that are integral components of the force structure upon which maritime strike depends.

Progress is being made in the realization of the CNO’s imperative of expanding long-range strike capability. Long-range anti-ship weapons are being fielded in increasing numbers. The Navy has demonstrated and fully funded the fielding of Maritime Targeting Cells for installations ashore, afloat, and for expeditionary forces. DoD and commercial satellite technologies are advancing at a rapid pace, and the commercial sector is evolving large satellite constellations. The combined capabilities of airborne and space capabilities open the possibility of near-continuous ISR coverage and could provide forces with the targeting capability that is the lynchpin for successful attack against maritime targets.

Richard Mosier is a retired defense contractor systems engineer; Naval Flight Officer; OPNAV N2 civilian analyst; and OSD SES 4 responsible for oversight of tactical intelligence systems and leadership of major defense analyses on UAVs, signals intelligence, and C4ISR.

References

1. CNO NAVPLAN 2022 https://media.defense.gov/2022/Jul/26/2003042389/-1/-1/1/NAVIGATION%20PLAN%202022_SIGNED.PDF

2. The Threat to World’s Communications Backbone – the Vulnerability of Undersea cables https://www.navylookout.com/the-threat-to-worlds-communications-backbone-the-vulnerability-of-undersea-cables/ 

3. Rachel Jewett, BAE Systems Announces Multi-Sensor Azalea Satellite Cluster, Via Satellite, September 7, 2022 Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8tMDysRb-ny

4. Hitchens, T. (2023 01 23) Space Development Agency’s satellite plan gets new name, but focus on speed stays, Breaking Defense https://breakingdefense.com/2023/01/space-development-agencys-satellite-plan-gets-new-name-but-focus-on-speed-stays/

Featured Image: GULF OF ADEN (Oct. 8, 2012) An E-2C Hawkeye assigned to Carrier Air Wing (CVW) 1 sits on the flight deck of USS Enterprise (CVN 65) at night. (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 2nd Class Brooks B. Patton Jr./Released)