This month the CIMSEC Warfighting Flotilla will be focusing on China’s naval mine warfare capability and revamping the training administration of the U.S. Surface Navy. If you haven’t already, sign up through the form below to become a Flotilla member and receive the invites to our upcoming off-the-record June discussions. The full listings for these upcoming discussions are featured down below.
Feel free to visit the Flotilla homepage to learn more about this community, its activities, and what drives it.
______________________________________ Upcoming June Sessions ______________________________________
Addressing China’s Mine Warfare Advantage
China has built up a large and diverse arsenal of naval mines that could pose a major challenge in a Pacific conflict. The U.S. Navy has historically undervalued mine warfare compared to rival great powers, and heavily leans on allies to provide mine countermeasure capability. What are the implications of China’s naval mine arsenal and how can the U.S. better address the threat? Join us to discuss these questions and more as we consider the Pacific mine warfare challenge.
The U.S. Surface Navy’s training program is rife with administrative overhead. As these administrative requirements accumulate unchecked, they threaten to crowd out time for possibly more meaningful uses of warfighters’ time and attention. How can the Surface Navy better streamline its training administration? How well does this administration meet the spirit of its intent? Join us to discuss these questions and more as we consider the challenges of navigating the administrative culture and requirements of the U.S. Surface Navy.
This week CIMSEC will be running articles submitted in response to our call for articles on pitching novel capability ideas.
The technological landscape is offering more opportunity than ever before to innovate with disruptive new capabilities. As legacy systems wane in relevance, militaries must rigorously explore the art of the possible when it comes to developing new, game-changing tools. As new systems are developed and fielded, wide-ranging changes in the character of war may follow, with geopolitical advantage accruing to the states best positioned to leverage new forms of warfighting.
Below are the articles and authors being featured in this series, which may be updated with further submissions as Pitch Your Capability week unfolds.
Dmitry Filipoff is CIMSEC’s Director of Online Content. Contact him at Content@cimsec.org.
Featured Image: A U.S. Navy X-47B unmanned combat air system demonstrator aircraft prepares to launch from the flight deck of the aircraft carrier USS Theodore Roosevelt (CVN 71) Nov. 10, 2013, while underway in the Atlantic Ocean. (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist Seaman Kris Lindstrom/Released)
Read Part 1 on defining distributed maritime operations. Read Part 2 on anti-ship firepower and U.S. shortfalls. Read Part 3 on assembling massed fires and modern fleet tactics. Read Part 4 on weapons depletion and last-ditch salvo dynamics. Read Part 5 on missile salvo patterns and maximizing volume of fire. Read Part 6on platform advantages and combined arms roles. Read Part 7 on aircraft carrier roles in distributed warfighting. Read Part 8 on China’s anti-ship firepower and mass firing schemes. Read Part 9 on the force structure implications of DMO.
By Dmitry Filipoff
Introduction
Force development is the process of investigating the future of warfighting and aligning the preparations of a military along the lines of that investigation’s findings. If knowing how to fight could be described as knowing how to execute tactics, then force development is about how to get better at fighting.1 Yet force development is not just about creating viable tactics or proper crucibles for forging warfighting skill. It is about ensuring there is a high level of force-wide fluency on warfighting and a broad understanding of how to get better at fighting.
Force development serves a vital role in safeguarding a military from its own atrophy. A major symptom of institutional decay in militaries is when warfighters, especially those in the combat arms and unrestricted line communities, struggle to realize that their fundamental job is to be tacticians. If not consciously kept in check, creeping bureaucratic forces will gradually turn warfighters into administrators, maintainers, engineers, and other things that eventually eclipse their fundamental role of being tacticians, of being professionals that learn how to fight.
A prime imperative of force development is to preserve the fundamental principle that tactics are at the core of what any navy is and does, that tactics are the “soul of our profession,” as once described by Vice Admiral Art Cebrowski.2 Chief of Naval Operations Admiral Tom Hayward argued the same point in the introduction to the first edition of the seminal work Fleet Tactics by Captain Wayne Hughes, where he argued, “What is the naval profession about if not tactics, tactics, and more tactics?” A military service that loses sight of this fundamental principle of existence will have dysfunction radiate throughout its institutions. This is because tactics are not just mere details or minor actions, they are the ultimate logic that governs how fleets are destroyed in combat. Regardless of whether warfighters are aware of it, tactics are a central animating force behind much of what a navy does, whether it be strategy, force design, human resources, and many other efforts. So much of military policymaking is critically degraded when the warfighters do not have a good idea of what the fighting is going to look like, or of how to get better at fighting.
The force employment of a military will largely be a function of how good its force development can make it. A military’s ability to fully manifest a new warfighting concept will depend on how well its force development can take the abstract notions of the concept and convert them into genuine force-wide improvement in warfighting skill. As the U.S. Navy explores the future of distributed warfighting and naval salvo combat, it must be prepared to make major changes to how its force development institutions cultivate warfighting skill so the fleet can effectively evolve alongside the intensifying threat environment.
Force Development and the Major Engines of Change
Overarching warfighting concepts are often developed by specific groups such as fleet staffs, warfighting development centers, wargamers, and others. Compared to the broader fleet and the multitudes of deckplate warfighters, these groups are extremely niche staffs. Just because a warfighting concept has been developed by specialized groups and approved of by senior authorities is no guarantee that it will actually result in force-wide change. Major efforts have to be made to deliberately introduce the warfighting concept into the service’s primary engines of force development, and bridge the wide gap between the niche insight of the concept developer and the force-wide reality of the deckplate sailor.
The major engines of force development in a service are the primary mechanisms through which warfighting skill is developed on a force-wide level. These engines mainly include the exercise and certification regimes, training and readiness matrices and syllabi, schoolhouses, graduate education programs, and the tactical instructor programs of warfighting development centers. Tens of thousands of servicemembers are rotating through these mechanisms to learn about warfighting. If a warfighting concept generated by a niche staff is to stimulate genuine force-wide improvement, then the concept must be broken down into specific operational skills and challenges that are then administered through these major engines of force development. Syllabi must be revised, new certifications must replace older ones, and new scenarios should keep warfighting crucibles fresh and challenging.
The content of the warfighting concept must inform and align with the content of force development. Otherwise, the force will incur major risks in conflict when the content of its warfighting concepts and war plans are vastly different than what the force as a whole has actually been prepared to do.
This process of change has to be deliberate and measured. The aftereffects of introducing more tactics, doctrine, and capabilities into the major engines of force development are often not well appreciated, but these effects threaten to strangle progress. The downstream effects of introducing new things to force development are often more requirements, more administration, more maintenance, and myriad other burdens added to already stretched warfighters. The imperative to effectively master something new can be suffocated by the overflowing system of requirements and certifications, and where many of these requirements are a product of undisciplined bureaucratic accumulation.3 Failing to make deliberate tradeoffs will risk losing critical new warfighting imperatives amidst the crammed labyrinth that characterizes much of the U.S. Navy’s requirements and certification system. This overflowing system has forced combat training schedules to take the form of serialized one-off events, rather than focused series of multiple rounds that allow warfighters to flesh out specific skills and conduct extensive trial and error. The Navy needs to consolidate its overstretched focus so it can afford to go deeper in priority areas.
If the Navy is to seriously introduce the new force development efforts that are vital to making DMO and massed fires a reality, it will need to vigorously protect and guarantee time and focus for these efforts amidst the ocean of other demands that threaten to stifle these initiatives. Careful and deliberate tradeoffs must be made in defining what tactical skills and scenarios sailors should be prioritizing their time on, rather than simply adding to the system’s congestion.
One specific example of how force development tradeoffs can be made is in adjusting the amount of focus spent on building damage control skillsets versus air defense. Since it only takes one hit to kill a warship, if the offensive-defensive balance tilts even slightly in the attacker’s favor, then the result will be extreme overkill. This happens because naval salvo combat can consist of forces launching dozens of missiles at warships, so if a warship is going to take a hit, it is very unlikely to take only one. Damage control at that point will often be an exercise in futility. While sailors can certainly learn much about their systems through damage control practice, the force development implication of this brutal tactical reality is that much more preparation should be spent on preventing the ship from getting hit than learning how to save it.
That is one aspect of naval salvo combat that readily translates into deckplate-level force development implications. But the act of massing fires from across a distributed force is something that can happen on a theater-wide scale, which is a larger-scale scenario that can strain unit-level training methods, resources, and perspectives. While new studies and curricula are useful for teaching the broader picture, tactics are actions. The cultivation of tactical skill demands extensive hands-on application and learning-by-doing.
If mass fires are to become a mainstay tactic and skillset, then wargaming and Live, Virtual, and Constructive (LVC) events need to become a much more mainstream and higher fidelity experience for unit-level warfighters. Wargaming and LVC are key simulation tools that can help deckplate servicemembers experience warfighting on a much larger scale and understand how their piece of the fight contributes to broader success. Unit-level sailors can strive to understand how their long-range salvos will combine into a larger volume of fire against a distant target, and how the broader distribution or concentration of the force can be affected by their unit-level actions. They can learn to craft custom firing sequences and assemble massed fires against serious opposition in a variety of contexts. They can become more proficient in interpreting the situation presented in the broader common operating picture that goes beyond the scope of their organic sensors, which can also help them contemplate effective targets for last-ditch or standalone fires. They can develop a deeper understanding of how higher-echelon commanders think about naval salvo combat and assembling massed fires, which helps build a common doctrinal framework across the chain of command. By leveraging these tools, unit-level servicemembers can improve their fluency with these inherently large-scale warfighting methods.
Despite the fierce character of naval salvo combat and the high stakes involved, a warfighting imperative is often not strong enough on its own to compel change when the imperative must be operationalized by a bureaucracy. The major engines of force development need to be infused with clear professional incentives for warfighters to develop specific tactical skills and distinguish themselves as above average tacticians. The incentives for competitive promotion and assessment are arguably some of the strongest levers for fomenting change in any organization, and this holds true for militaries as well.
The introduction of new tactics and methods requires commensurate new criteria for assessing proficiency and rewarding tactical skill. But the specific nature of launching anti-ship fires challenges the ability to craft stirring professional incentives for the tactical actions that are at the heart of massing fires.
There may be relatively few distinguishing factors when a unit is simply one platform out of many that is launching anti-ship missiles at distant targets. The act of launching fires at forces that are far beyond the limits of one’s organic sensors can substantially reduce the scope of decision-making and tactical skill to be exhibited and assessed at the unit level. Launching anti-ship fires may be far less tactically distinguishing or exciting than the scope of tactical skill a lone fighter pilot can display in a dogfight, or a submarine officer can exhibit in setting up a torpedo strike. Serving as a missile magazine to be cued by someone else’s firing decisions may hardly make for provocative debriefs or in-depth assessments of tactical skill at the unit level. These types of challenges can cause warfighting establishments to undervalue critical tactical tasks because they offer little opportunity for warfighters to distinguish themselves from their peers and challenge professional assessment mechanisms. As a result, military bureaucracy can limit the amount of time training and exercising these skills.4
Here is where wargaming and simulation can come together with assessment criteria and professional incentives. Because wargaming and LVC can allow deckplate-level warfighters to practice the large-scale tactics of massing fires, it can also provide a venue where warfighters can distinguish themselves professionally, and be assessed on more complex matters of tactical skill compared to simply launching contributing fires. Wargaming and LVC can also offer settings where Sailors can operate their individual platforms in simulated network-contested environments, where they can demonstrate how they would take the initiative, such as by assembling massed fires on a local basis or launching standalone attacks as an isolated unit.
The U.S. Navy will have to make major changes to its force development to promote more opportunity for warfighters to tactically distinguish themselves from their peers and spark their competitive spirit. But a system of certification that aims to train warfighters to the same baseline standard will struggle to provide this opportunity. The U.S. Navy’s ability to offer meaningful crucibles for warfighters to distinguish themselves is also severely challenged by its deeply ingrained habit of artificially guaranteeing victory in combat exercises and deliberately handicapping opposition forces.5These fundamental and far-reaching flaws will strongly constrain the Navy’s ability to discover and cultivate its best tacticians, as well as impair its ability to have a rigorous process of investigation undergirding its force development. These self-inflicted flaws have already rendered many prior Navy warfighting concepts into unrealized and underdeveloped aspirations. These flaws will continue to challenge the Navy’s ability to manifest any warfighting concept that can be durable enough to withstand the chaos of war.
Ultimately DMO should provide the impetus to reform not just the content of the Navy’s force development, but also its character.
New Force Packages for DMO
The U.S. Navy is attempting to manifest DMO with a relatively concentrated force structure of high-tonnage warships. It will need to revise its current force employment and force packaging to be more distributed in the near term. As the Navy transitions toward DMO, it needs to consider how it may reorganize its existing force structure to better manifest the concept.
The relationship between force structure and force employment is closely related to the standard force packages of a service and the warfighting concepts that animate them. In the case of the U.S. Navy, the Composite Warfare Commander (CWC) concept has animated its carrier strike groups and naval formations for years.6 Regardless of the many concepts that have been developed over time, the CWC concept is what the Navy has actually been putting into practice on a force-wide level, and it forms a major point of departure for naval force employment. Countless strike group staffs and wardrooms have had their visions of warfighting heavily shaped by this concept. Consistent application of CWC over the years has molded a critical form of operational muscle memory that pervades the U.S. Navy as an institution.
The introduction of DMO should warrant a deep examination of new formations, force packages, and tables of organization that will embody the new concept. Historically, militaries will modify these aspects of their organization in relation to changing perceptions of the future of warfare and force employment. When reforming for great power war, these changes have heavily focused on defining the proper echelon for integrating combined arms capability.7 This has often resulted in pushing the integration of multi-mission, combined arms capability down to lower-level units, while also being mindful of not overwhelming lower-level commanders with too much span of control. As they push combined arms integration downward, militaries have also gone upward in designating a larger-scale formation as the primary standard unit of control when emphasizing focus on great power war. For example, where artillery and anti-air fires may have been held at the brigade commander level, now the company commander can direct these fires; where the brigade was once the primary operational unit, now the division is the primary unit.
The Navy can consider similar changes to its organization. New force packages can encourage an accompanying revision of the command relationships and operating concepts that animate the formations. New force packages provide a valuable impetus and point of departure for initiating fresh force development efforts.
At first sight, DMO may encourage an amorphous vision of force packages, where units can flexibly plug-and-play at will across a dynamic battlespace. A distributed force will gain a significant amount of resilience if its lone units can seek one another out and dynamically come together to apply effects on a local basis, rather than be wholly dependent on higher-echelon commanders to organize them. But while this hypothetical flexibility is desirable, in reality it can lead to an undisciplined and unstructured vision for how a distributed force may actually be wielded. It may leave far too much to chance and assume too much about the ability of individual units to meaningfully integrate on the fly. Instead of a flexible and resilient force, the risk is the spontaneous creation of disorganized pickup teams that will have little time to build common understanding in the midst of a fight. That common understanding may prove crucial to success, especially for methods that require careful harmonization, including emissions control, air defense doctrines, and last-ditch firing protocols. One of the hard WWII lessons the U.S. Navy paid abundantly for in blood is that combined units need time to develop into genuinely integrated force packages before being sent into battle.8
As a potential new DMO force package, consider a force of two destroyers supported by a squadron of carrier aircraft. Half of the squadron remains in the local vicinity of the destroyers to defeat sea-skimming threats well before they break over the warships’ horizon, and to provide early warning such as for air defense and last-ditch fires. The other half of the squadron is far forward of the two destroyers, and conducts scouting, counter-scouting, and bomber interdiction. The forward element also helps cue warship salvos toward targets, inputs retargeting support to the salvos, defends the salvos from aviation threats, and assesses salvo effectiveness against the target. This forward aviation element is the primary actor in contesting aerial and information superiority in the critical space between opposing fleets. If those forward aviation units are under heavy threat by opposing aircraft, they can pull behind the surface warships and leverage their air defense capability. The roles conducted by the aircraft kept closer to the destroyers can be assigned to F/A-18s and an E-2D. The forward roles are ideally conducted by F-35s, with their longer range and robust sensor fusion capabilities.
This force package of two destroyers and a squadron could be termed a surface strike group (SSG) and be a standard unit of a distributed naval force (Figure 1). It represents the lowest level at which carrier aviation and surface warships could be fully integrated for combined arms naval warfighting. Through its warships, this force could conceivably field up to 80 anti-ship missiles in its launch cells. This makes for a considerable amount of magazine depth that could allow the force to steadily persist and preserve force distribution as it fires small but meaningful increments of contributing fires. If network links degrade or some other circumstance isolates the surface strike group from the broader force, it will have a decent amount of organic capability to fall back upon, it will have preserved vital combined arms relations, and it will retain significant magazine depth as a standalone unit.
Multiple CNOs have now called for a renewed emphasis on fleet-level warfare.9A renewed emphasis on fleet-level warfare requires a fleet-level force package. The parent force package of the Surface Strike Group could be the principal fleet-scale maneuver element, a hypothetical Fleet Strike Group (FSG) that would be larger than a carrier strike group. It could consist of the combined forces of about two carrier strike groups, divided into four surface strike groups with two destroyers each, and four destroyers assigned to escort the two carriers (Figure 2). The carriers are protected by roughly four squadrons of aircraft, with the other four squadrons assigned to the surface strike groups, which are the primary striking arms of the Fleet Strike Group for generating massed fires.
The surface strike groups may be oriented in various dispositions relative to the carriers, but must not exceed the ranges required to have confident aviation support, and not exceed ranges that would stretch them too thin to combine their fires against a shared target. A force package does not always imply a specific disposition, but it provides a clear point of departure for multiple arrangements of forces while maintaining a coherent command structure and concept of operations.
These force package concepts illustrate the critical constraints of organizing a distributed fleet. Warships can only disperse so far from one another before they are spread too thin to effectively combine fires. Surface warships will substantially increase their risk if they venture beyond the range of aviation support, and they would have more flexibility of maritime maneuver if that aviation support came from carriers instead of airfields. But carrier aviation can only travel so far and remain on station for so long. Carrier aviation must also maintain enough reach and capacity to strongly contest the aerial battlespace between opposing fleets, and secure the critical scouting and informational advantages that come with earning air superiority in this area. Yet carriers cannot be pulled too deep into the battlespace themselves, or else suffer increased risk.
These critical factors of mutual support bind the extent of distribution and help define the divide between what is usefully distributable versus what is unfavorably stretched thin. Standardized force packages capture these critical relationships and constraints, and provide a framework to work within them.
These force packages formalize other essentials of DMO. They formalize a closer tactical relationship between aviation and surface platforms, who will need a tight-knit doctrinal relationship at a level below the traditional strike group. It establishes a new fleet-scale unit that is larger than a carrier strike group, both in terms of the number of platforms and in the scope of its applications. It also establishes a subordinate lower-echelon unit that is credible enough to pose a threat on its own even if the force fractures or disaggregates. These fundamentals can provide an enduring basis for designing force packages regardless of their specific composition.
Standard force packages provide a valuable frame of reference for what forces can coalesce or disaggregate into, which is a vital part of DMO. If a distributed force fractures into individual units and force concentrations, many units may naturally seek each other out to pool their capability and broaden their awareness in a bid for local overmatch. But as standalone units gather themselves, they may unwittingly create a force that is overly concentrated. Standard force packages can provide a valuable frame of reference by defining a ceiling of tolerable concentration or dispersal. Forces may use this frame of reference to independently distribute or converge if they believe they have overly concentrated or stretched themselves. It is critical that effective concentration and distribution is not just something imposed on a force by higher-echelon command, but something that lower-echelon units can effectively self-organize into through shared doctrinal understanding.
The frame of reference offered by a force package can also encourage isolated units to prioritize the regeneration of combined arms capability. In the case of distributed warfighting, isolated aircraft would know to seek out warships to leverage their magazine depth, and warships would seek out aircraft to leverage their greater situational awareness. As isolated forces seek out one another and combine into force packages, they can not only have a sense for judging appropriate concentration, but also a sense of judging proportion between the combined arms.
This frame of reference also makes hard tradeoffs more doctrinally acceptable. A core defensive goal of distribution is to minimize losses when they are taken. A core offensive goal is to manipulate this concern to compel opposing forces to stretch themselves thin. The threat of accurate firepower can force units to sacrifice their ability to provide mutual support as they widen their distribution to try to minimize potential losses. If a force package is judged too concentrated and must distribute, the diminishing availability of combined support will be better understood as a deliberate tradeoff rather than a reckless omission.
As much as an assortment of smaller units attempting to integrate across a battlespace can confuse an adversary, it can also confuse a force’s own commanders. The desire for open-ended flexibility must be balanced against the need for coherence, and standardized force packages are a critical mechanism for creating coherence of forces. But the organizational coherence that force packages offer can certainly be a liability. The predictability of organization for oneself also makes it more predictable to the adversary. This predictability can lend itself toward the speedier massing of fires, both from a force and against it. There can be a direct connection between using organization to reduce the command-and-control challenge of wielding a distributed force, and reducing the challenge to the enemy’s decision-making. Commanders must weigh the benefit of coherence along these lines.
New force packages can serve a critical organizational function in moving force development forward and strongly emphasize a service’s commitment to transformation. In the case of the U.S. Marine Corps, the new Marine Littoral Regiments are a major embodiment of that service’s concrete commitment to new operating concepts.10 By creating this new force package, certain combinations of capability and cross-community relations were formalized and obligated. These relationships were then cultivated through shared force development and put into practice in exercises and elsewhere.11
If the U.S. Navy wants to make DMO a reality, one of the most powerful steps it can take is to commit to new force packages. This can send an especially strong signal to its competitors and its own organization that real transformation is coming.
Developing Doctrine for DMO and Massed Fires
At first glance, the tactics of massing fires could easily lend themselves to heavily scripted methods, preset responses, and automated decision aids. Algorithms and playbooks will surely serve an important role in speeding the coordination of available firepower into salvos against shared targets. But the fundamental importance of subjective human judgement cannot be eclipsed by these factors. Naval force development on DMO must focus heavily on cultivating the human skills and decision-making that undergird mass fires. Developing a common doctrinal understanding will be vital toward employing this form of warfighting that depends so much upon shared awareness and coordination.
Doctrine does not only consist of official publications or standard responses. Doctrine is best understood as the implicit and subjective visions of how to fight that warfighters subscribe to.12Doctrinal development should principally focus on creating shared expectations in the minds of warfighters of how massed fires function and why.
The doctrine of massed fires will need to carefully govern how release authorities control the employment of various weapons. These mainly concern the circumstances under which offensive and defensive weapons are to be retained, delegated, or seized by various authorities. For massed fires to work, the release authority for anti-ship weapons cannot often be in the hands of the unit-level commanders of individual platforms except in highly specific and threatening situations. A higher-echelon commander or a commander with a higher degree of situational awareness will need to have the authority to reach into the magazines of various assets to assemble a volume of fire from the available options.
Because of this, there are few concepts that have as much potential to undermine massed fires than that of mission command and the initiative of the subordinate. Mission command has been defined as “the conduct of military operations through decentralized execution based upon mission-type orders…Successful mission command demands that subordinate leaders at all echelons exercise disciplined initiative and act aggressively and independently…”13 If each individual platform decides to launch its fires independently, then the force will often fail to muster enough volume of fire to overwhelm targets and it will suffer disproportionate weapons depletion across its units. The evolving distribution and concentration of the broader force will pitch and roll without much consideration for larger consequences, and many higher-order designs and intentions will be at the mercy of spontaneous, local-level developments. It is unclear if a distributed force that grants wide-ranging independence to its many individual units can be meaningfully wielded as a coherent “fleet.”
The principles of mission command and the initiative of the subordinate are often couched in terms of seizing fleeting targets of opportunity.14 But the ability to fire quickly on independent initiative should be tempered by the challenging requirement of assembling enough volume of fire. Totally delegated release authority can lead to premature and ineffective attacks, where it may be of little use to have an individual unit fire on a target of opportunity if it ends up wasting missiles because it cannot muster enough volume of fire. The requirement to achieve enough volume of fire to hit a densely defended naval formation changes the definition of what actually makes for a viable target of opportunity.
Relying on individual initiative and mission command can certainly result in a higher tempo of decisions and unit-level actions, but this is not an inherent advantage if those decisions and actions are not operationally effective. Having a higher tempo of decision-making does not always guarantee a higher quality of decision-making. A force that patiently musters its missile firepower for a single strong blow against a naval formation may often prove to be much more effective than a force launching numerous individual blows that are too weak on their own to overwhelm the adversary. Initiative of the subordinate can enable self-defeating impulses in a form of warfare that demands a significant measure of coordination to muster a minimally viable amount of striking power. Given the requirement to build enough volume of fire, many unit-level leaders will have to exercise tense patience rather than sharp initiative, even if they have all the targeting information they need to take their personal shot at the target.
The concept of delegating authority for the sake of taking advantage of fleeting opportunity in the battlespace cannot be blindly advocated as an enduring theoretical good. The successful application of this principle depends on specific tactical context, and it can clearly be self-defeating in many situations. Having a wide variety of distributed units prosecuting their local engagements with great independence assumes a theory of success where broader victory is the product of accumulating many smaller wins. But it is unclear how well this construct applies to the unique nature of high-end naval warfare, which has historically tended toward highly centralized tactical decision-making, large-scale pulses of fleet-destroying firepower, and extremely dense concentrations of capability. To unconsciously apply these principles without operational context is to strip away many of the potential benefits of massed fires.
Therefore higher-echelon commanders will naturally need to maintain some sort of doctrinal grip on the offensive anti-ship loadouts of many units if they are to harness their potential for massed fires. The same can hardly be true for defensive doctrine. The sudden nature of defending against anti-ship salvos or submarine attacks involves highly time-sensitive decisions. Doctrine statements that are pre-programmed into combat systems need to be able to automatically engage defenses to give warships a fighting chance of survival against incoming salvos. Therefore the release authority for defensive capability will have to naturally reside at a much lower level of command.
But unit-level commanders will still need some authority to independently launch their offensive missiles in certain situations. The potential of last-ditch fires means commanders need to exercise subjective judgement about their tactical situation and know when it warrants them firing off their weapons without higher-level approval. Commanders who perceive they are on the verge of detection or destruction will need to be afforded the discretion to do what they can under extreme circumstances. A similar logic applies to operating within degraded network environments. If adversaries have effectively damaged trust in networks and communications, then commanders may hesitate to believe what the networks are telling them. If commanders are unsure if their higher-echelon leadership can reach them to issue firing orders, they may feel compelled to take the initiative in launching fires themselves.
The doctrinal implications of who exactly organizes massed fires in what operational context deserve serious emphasis in force development. Joint commands, fleet staffs, and warfighting development centers need to design doctrinal schemes of release authorities for massed fires on both force-wide and unit-level scales. Commanders at all levels need to understand the distribution of these release authorities for various weapons and how the scope of these authorities can change with specific circumstances, such as heavily degraded networks or low-emission postures. Certain circumstances that make it challenging to mass fires from widely distributed assets can trigger fallback schemes that delegate release authorities to individual units and force concentrations.
But massed fires may be unworkable if the joint fires targeting process is too bureaucratic and rigid to be applied in a chaotic warfighting environment.15 While there are certainly many considerations that deserve to be factored into mass fires, the joint fires process should be prepared to expedite procedure for the sake of speeding decision. In a combat environment that is being heavily shaped by naval salvo warfare, custom firing sequences will need to be quickly designed to meet emerging needs. This is especially critical for the time-sensitive methods that help a force preserve its capability while under heavy fire, methods such as interruptive strikes against the adversary’s active firing sequences, or adding fires to the last-ditch salvos of dying units. Speed of decision is vital to winning in naval salvo combat, but an overly bureaucratic joint fires targeting process could easily confer major decision-making advantage to the adversary.
Lone units may not care much for official procedure when they are facing imminent destruction at the hands of incoming salvos. Unit-level commanders need to know how to craft an effective last-ditch firing protocol and have the subjective judgement to know when to trigger it. Commanders need to know how to assess the signature of an inbound volume of fire, judge the offensive-defensive balance, and decide if they are unlikely to survive. They must also have the skill and nerve to know when not to launch last-ditch salvos, or otherwise risk being provoked into wasteful fires.
Effectively practicing last-ditch fires will be less a matter of preventing unit destruction and more about having commanders smartly deploy a custom last-ditch firing protocol in the context of what information they had at the time. Scripted solutions and automated decision aids will not be enough to forge the prudence needed in this crucial battle of nerves. The U.S. Surface Warfare community in particular must cultivate this judgement in its warfighters through exercises and simulations that impose the last-ditch firing dilemma, but where warfighters do not know in advance whether they are expected to survive.
Developing doctrine for last-ditch fires is critical for ensuring archers are not destroyed before they can discharge their offensive firepower, and ensuring that valuable weapons inventory is not lost before it can make some contribution to the fight. Otherwise a force under fire will lose its weapons as it loses its platforms, and crews will be deprived of their chance to offer a final parting shot to the adversary. The extreme circumstances that surround last-ditch choices create a demand for extensive doctrinal development so that warfighters can be ready to make the most of what may be their final moments.
The Joint Element and the Role of Fleet Commanders
The act of massing fires is an inherently large-scale, combined arms, cross-service function. The joint contours of this capability are already becoming apparent, with all of the services now procuring anti-ship missiles and getting into the mission of sinking warships.16 While it will take at least another decade for them to procure enough weapons to be able to truly mass fires, all of the services must focus more force development on the anti-ship mission. The extent to which service kill chains can be effectively linked in a contested battlespace can determine the true extent to which massed fires can be brought together from across the joint force. Otherwise operational methods may default to standalone fires from service-specific forces. The force development of massed fires must occur through critical joint and service command structures, and the nature of these structures puts fleet commanders in a prime position to refine these concepts.
While war plans are meant to be executable today with current capability, service warfighting concepts tend to have a longer time horizon to guide the development of capability in a purposeful direction. But ideally at some point the timeframes overlap, and the content of the warfighting concept should begin to inform the content of war plans. The DMO concept as it stands today is more of a service-specific concept for the Navy rather than an overarching concept for the joint force, although DMO could serve as the Navy’s pillar to the Joint Warfighting Concept (JWC).17 But it remains unclear if there is a deliberately structured relationship for how the warfighting concept of a service informs the war plan (OPLAN) of a combatant command. A warfighting concept can represent how a service would like to fight and how it believes it could make its best contribution to the broader joint force. But ultimately the employment of forces falls under the authority of the combatant commands, who may have different force employment concepts than a service.
Therefore a critical role of service-specific force development is not only generating improved operational methods, but also socializing these methods with the combatant commands and joint organizations that would ultimately be charged with employing these methods. The more the content of a service’s warfighting concept is reflected in the content of the war plans, the more successful the concept may have been in earning joint buy-in. Given how all the services are now procuring anti-ship weapons and the sea control mission is growing in importance, the Navy can take a leading role in shaping how the joint force envisions massing fires against warships.
The act of massing fires is not only a joint endeavor, it is an expression of combined arms warfighting. The Navy itself is a joint force with its separate communities. But most of the Navy’s force development is heavily siloed within the type commands who manage the force development for their respective communities. This siloed character is reinforced by how most of the Navy’s workup cycle focuses on unit- and squadron-specific force development, with only a few weeks of truly integrated, cross-community exercising toward the end.18 This relative lack of deep cross-community integration has also been reinforced by the disaggregated operations of recent decades.19 The Navy does not appear to have a singular overarching mechanism or higher-echelon command that purposefully integrates the force development agendas of the type commands around a common framework, whether it be a war plan, DMO, or other concepts. The heavily siloed nature of the Navy’s force development strongly impairs its ability to deepen vital combined arms relations and manifest new warfighting concepts, especially ones as cross-cutting as DMO and massed fires.
Fleet commanders are needed to fill these gaps and serve these two vital functions – deepening the force development integration between the navy’s communities, and socializing service-specific warfighting concepts with joint commands.
The purview of fleet commanders sits a step higher than that of the type commands and allows them to integrate the multiple communities in operational context. As Vice Admiral Hank Mustin once noted, the type commanders “stayed within their own little pookas until somebody mixed them all. That’s the role of the fleet commander.”20 Fleet commanders could ensure that each community-specific force development agenda is organized around common frameworks. This could take the form of ensuring the content of the war plans is reflected in the training certifications and syllabi of the various communities, or that warfighting development centers are collaborating on combined arms doctrine. The fleet commander’s position as the lead naval component commander within a combatant command also allows them to more readily access their fellow component commanders from the other services. They are in a prime position to socialize DMO and naval massed fires into joint partners and command structures.
Aside from influencing the force development of lower echelons and joint partners, fleet commands will need to be heavily subjected to force development themselves. A renewed emphasis on fleet-level operations demands more warfighting practice for fleet-level staffs. As CNO Gilday has emphasized, “If we’re going to fight as a fleet – and we moved away from fighting just as singular ARGs, as singular strike groups, to fighting as a fleet under a fleet commander as the lead – we have to be able to train that way”21 [Emphasis added]. Fleet-level staffs should engage in frequent wargaming to exercise the command of naval massed fires and fleet-scale force packages.
Because fleet commanders reside within the operational chain of command, their primary focus is operations, not force development. Historical experience has often shown that when significant force development and operational responsibilities are combined under one administrative structure, the latter tends to eclipse the former.22 Guarding against this tendency is the Department of Defense’s bifurcation into the distinct spheres of operations, and train/man/equip. But unlike the Navy, the other services have vital mechanisms that ensure service-retained control of large ready units for the purposes of force development, where combined arms relations can be consistently exercised and evolved without being constrained by an imminent need to deploy. But to its severe detriment, the structure of the Navy has caused most of its opportunity for live cross-community force development to fall under the operational command structure.
The Navy’s integration between its own communities is not nearly as well developed as it needs to be to make DMO and massed fires a reality. The fleet commands must take an active role in deepening cross-community integration and force development, as well as refining joint methods for massing fires against warships. But their operational responsibilities will hardly abate, and decades of habit will make it challenging to introduce major new force development imperatives to what are fundamentally operational commands. Even if they can take on these efforts, the variety of multiple fleet commands may not translate into a coherent set of enduring requirements for integrating the force development agendas of the type commands around a common framework like DMO.
If the fleet commands cannot take sufficient ownership of coordinating these force development functions, then these functions may have to be centralized on the OPNAV staff. This responsibility would fit best within the OPNAV N7 Warfighting Development Directorate, but N7 seems to lack the critical authorities that would allow it to issue firm directives to the type commands and integrate their force development agendas in any major way.23 OPNAV also has very little in the way of service-retained ready forces under its control, challenging its ability to manage much of the vital force development that would need to happen through the active operating forces.
The Navy’s organizational structures and operating patterns already heavily impair its ability to implement major force development reform. The needs of DMO and massed fires demand more than just changing the content of existing practices or agendas, these warfighting methods demand significant changes to how the Navy organizes its force development in general. Hopefully DMO can provide the impetus for much-needed reform.
Series Conclusion
“Peacetime commanders are the professional anscestors of men who fight…Peacetime leaders forget that their first responsibility is to keep doctrine current and train to it. Working machinery, full supply bins, and reenlistments matter, too, but since they are more tangible than combat readiness they tend to divert attention from it….peace should be a time for renewing tactics and doctrine.” –Captain Wayne P. Hughes, Jr.24
The Navy must not become so invested in the concepts of DMO or massed fires that it artificially guarantees their success, whether that be in its warfighting crucibles and experiments, or in its internal politics and programming. These are not concepts to be haphazardly “validated,” they are concepts to be ruthlessly interrogated.
The first and foremost principle is preserving a rigorous standard of warfighting resilience. Whatever the methods, they must be able to withstand the chaos of war. It is the duty of force development to uphold this standard, and to ensure that visions are grounded in practical reality, rather than be entranced by grandiose concepts. While something may seem conceptually elegant on paper or in models, this may obscure the fact that the deckplate-level warfighter will have to do the painstaking work of ironing out myriad critical details of implementation to manifest these things in a meaningful way. And during that process, the deckplate warfighter may unearth flaws and liabilities that could render a warfighting concept unworkable. No service should ignore the possibility that it can be better served by ruling out a warfighting concept than by moving forward with it. If the Navy must reject the idea of massed fires or DMO after rigorous trial and error suggests these elaborate methods cannot withstand the chaos of war, then the Navy will have been all the better for it.
Ultimately this series has been an exercise in exploring what DMO can be, not what it actually is in the eyes of the U.S. Navy. By investigating the critical leverage points of naval salvo warfare, it hoped to carve more definition into this concept, and illuminate what modern naval warfare may encompass. Whether this adequately aligns with the U.S. Navy’s own vision of DMO is an open question. But concepts and visions aside, many of the discussed fundamentals of naval salvo warfare will remain enduring regardless of whatever vision of future war is under consideration. And despite the heavily kinetic focus on massed fires and salvo combat, there are many non-kinetic factors and theories of victory that deserve deeper investigation.
The future of naval warfare has never been more uncertain. The destructive potential of high-end battle fleets is growing ever more ghastly and awe-inspiring. While the precise nature of modern naval warfare and all its many interactions remains deeply uncertain, its potential to change the course of history in an afternoon is not. As the world’s oceans become a major arena for great power competition, navies have little choice but to set course for the hazy horizon.
1. This is the author’s own definition of force development, not drawn from an official source.
2. This quote appears in the foreword to the second edition of Fleet Tactics and Coastal Combat by Captain Wayne P. Hughes, Jr., Naval Institute Press, 1999.
4. According to the author’s conversations with naval aviators in the strike fighter community, the relative lack of tactical skill in massed ASUW fires may be a major reason why this community has limited its ASUW training curricula and assessment criteria.
12. Captain Wayne P. Hughs Jr. and RADM Robert P. Girrier, Fleet Tactics and Naval Operations, Third Edition, U.S. Naval Institute Press, pg. 20-24, 2019.
16. Relatively new anti-ship missiles include: Maritime Strike Tomahawk (MST), Long-range Anti-Surface Missile (LRASM), Naval Strike Missile (NSM), and Standard Missile 6 (SM-6). The Army, Air Force, and Marines are each procuring some of these weapons.
22. Michael Hunzeker, Dying to Learn: Wartime Lessons from the Western Front, Cornell University Press, July 2021.
23. This assertion is based on multiple conversations the author has had with personnel who have served on the staff of OPNAV N7.
24. Captain Wayne P. Hughs Jr. and RADM Robert P. Girrier, Fleet Tactics and Naval Operations, Third Edition, U.S. Naval Institute Press, pg. 229, 2019.
Featured Image: MEDITERRANEAN SEA (June 28, 2016) Sailors prepare to load ordnance onto an F/A-18E Super Hornet assigned to the Sidewinders of Strike Fighter Squadron (VFA) 86 on the flight deck of the aircraft carrier USS Dwight D. Eisenhower (CVN 69). (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 3rd Class Anderson W. Branch/Released)
Read Part 1 on defining distributed maritime operations. Read Part 2 on anti-ship firepower and U.S. shortfalls. Read Part 3 on assembling massed fires and modern fleet tactics. Read Part 4 on weapons depletion and last-ditch salvo dynamics. Read Part 5 on salvo patterns and maximizing volume of fire. Read Part 6 on platform advantages and combined arms roles. Read Part 7 on aircraft carrier roles in distributed warfighting. Read Part 8 on China’s anti-ship firepower and mass firing schemes.
By Dmitry Filipoff
Introduction
Militaries are left with little choice but to design their forces regardless of how well they understand the details of future warfighting. Force design is an exercise in placing educated bets on the future relevance of current and emerging capability. Many of these bets are far-reaching and irreversible, setting in stone much of what will be a service’s capability for decades. But the services must be prepared to make radical changes if the future of warfare heralds decisive new methods.
Distributed naval warfighting and massed fires offer a practical operational context for valuing the combat power of force structure. The broad fundamentals of these warfighting dynamics could provide an enduring basis for force design. By establishing criteria and frameworks based on lasting operational considerations, navies can preserve their relevance.
Critical Traits for Valuing Distributed Naval Force Structure
The factors that make forces concentrated, distributed, or stretched thin are closely tied to how those forces are packaged and postured. In physical terms, these different aspects can describe the density of capability in individual platforms, the way density is spread across a fleet, and how forces are spread across a battlespace. The concepts of force structure, force posture, and force packaging are intrinsically linked and come together to define an overall state of distribution. Consider how force density manifests differently across the following fleet configurations:
Concentrated force structure in concentrated formations, such as the main battlefleets of WWII, with large battleships and fleet carriers often massed together.
Concentrated force structure in distributed formations, such as spread-out surface action groups, with each consisting of a few large surface combatants.
Distributed force structure in concentrated formations, such as dense clusters of small surface combatants.
Distributed force structure in distributed formations, such as widely separated small surface combatants.
These configurations provide a frame of reference for the different shapes of fleets and how they could interact and compete. The distribution of one’s force structure should threaten to make the adversary’s force structure more concentrated or stretched thin by comparison. These disparities then allow the better distributed force to capitalize on its advantage by inflicting steep sudden losses against the more concentrated opponent, or inflicting cumulative defeat in detail against one who is stretched thin.
The fundamentals of mass fires and distributed naval operations translate into a set of traits for valuing the combat power of naval force structure. The fleet that exhibits a superior combination of these traits will offer better options for force employment and operational design.
Information and Decision Advantage. The informational and decision-making implications of force structure are more difficult to perceive and measure than physical manifestations of capability. But a distributed force’s ability to mass fires and strike effectively first is dependent on securing information advantage.
The physical structure of forces has a major influence over their methods of command-and-control, and how they challenge the command-and-control of the adversary. Force design should be mindful of the limits of command-and-control and the potential of force structure to overwhelm its own commanders. A distributed force structure may be of little use if the added complexity of wielding a wider distribution overwhelms commanders and corrodes the intended operational design.
Much of the decision-making challenge of attempting to mass fires stems from the burdens of sourcing firepower from across one’s own forces, and deciding how to apply that firepower across the forces of the adversary. A distributed force structure should strive to provide superior options for sourcing firepower, while making it more challenging for the adversary to apply their own fires across the breadth of one’s forces. Ideally distributed force structure sets the stage for mass fires to come together more quickly, with greater volume, and at longer ranges than the adversary.
It is not enough for a distributed force to field longer-range firepower, it must be able to out-scout and counter-scout the opposition. Much of a force structure’s ability to offer information and decision advantage will derive from its ability to field platforms with superior sensing, networking, and battle management functions. Each of these functions is critical in being able to find targets, cue fires against them, and maneuver those fires through retargeting functions and other methods. Aircraft in particular, such as high-endurance drones and 5th generation airframes, can do much to enhance to enhance these functions.
Having a superior ability to collect information is not the same as having a superior ability to decide on it. Ultimately much of the information and decision-making advantage will derive from the human element, and how warfighting procedure has been structured to support human choice. One of the more difficult challenges of force design is in perceiving how it will influence the human aspect.
Complexity of Threat Presentation. Distribution is meant to directly challenge the adversary’s ability to secure information and decision advantage, especially by complicating their ability to prioritize fires and interpret the battlespace. Complex threat presentation helps inflict paralysis by analysis, where an adversary’s decision-making is heavily consumed by making sense of the situation, and how the ensuing doubt slows their decision-making. It is a momentous operational decision to launch a large volume of fire and be willing to suffer the resulting weapons depletion. Complex threat presentation makes it more difficult to firmly commit to such irreversible choices.
Each type of platform and payload offers a specific form of threat presentation through its signatures, behaviors, and attributes that create demands for information and interpretation. The state of advantage can change depending on how assets come across on an adversary’s sensors and how easily they can be understood. Aircraft can employ fast maneuver, highly variable loadouts, and quick reload speeds to raise complexity. The steep magazine depth of surface warships can obscure a wide variety of potential weapon loadouts that may only be well-understood well after they launch fires. Submarines are aloof and hard to detect, forcing an adversary to scour for undersea contacts across wide ocean areas. Missiles with robust multimodal seekers and autonomous targeting logic can make it challenging to grasp their behaviors and devise real-time countermeasures. These many capabilities can integrate and overlap, creating interactions that are more difficult to understand than their standalone elements.
The complexity of one’s own force can also be self-defeating. There can be an assumption that a commander will have a better grasp of the complexity of their own forces in the battlespace compared to the adversary. But distribution and a fluid battlespace can challenge a commander’s ability to stay on top of how the complexity is evolving. Force complexity can also challenge units if a lack of familiarity with dissimilar forces hampers their ability to form combined arms relationships. There can also be an assumption that one’s understanding of the opposition’s complexity must be highly sophisticated to devise effective counters, but strong capability and effective tactics can compensate for lack of precise understanding.
There is a fundamental tension between presenting complex threats to the adversary and posing a simpler command-and-control challenge to one’s own forces, and force design must be mindful of striking a deliberate balance.
Longevity of Distribution. A distributed force should ideally maintain a high degree of distribution throughout the duration of the fight and ensure the distributed posture is enduring. It does not suffer from episodic fluctuations that sharply concentrate or stretch thin the force. Longevity of distribution is promoted by effective defensive firepower, deep inventories of weapons, higher numbers of long-endurance platforms, and robust logistical sustainment. It is also a factor of sustainable force generation practices and readiness cycles.
Longevity of distribution in a high-end battlespace will function differently than peacetime naval operations, where forces are continuously rotated to maintain a specific level of presence in the forward environment. The history of fleet-on-fleet combat strongly suggests there is little use for tactical reserves, unlike in land warfare.1 Rather, the fleet that can more quickly surge and concentrate greater forces and then deliver superior firepower first will be far more likely to succeed.
The longevity of distribution for an engaged fleet will be less a matter of devising a sustainable tempo of rotating forces through the battlespace, although that will still be an important function. Rather, longevity of distribution can be achieved by surging large numbers of forces and being able to maintain them for longer in the battlespace. Larger numbers increases the collective magazine depth of the distributed force, which allows the individual platforms to launch smaller increments of contributing fires, allowing them to persist for longer and contribute to a more enduring distributed posture on a force-wide level.
Inventory Breadth and Depth. A distributed force garners significant advantage by having a broader and deeper weapons inventory than its opponents. Inventory breadth is achieved by having a wide variety of numerous platforms that are compatible with long-range weapons. Inventory depth is achieved by having large numbers of weapons, both in the magazines within platforms and in weapons stocks that can be readily accessed for reloading. Deeper magazines allow commanders to diminish uncertainty by erring on the side of firing larger volumes of fire. Deeper weapon stocks reduce the major doubts and constraints that stem from concerns over depleting limited weapons inventory.
Firepower and Payloads. Information and decision advantage may count for little if they cannot be capitalized on with firepower. A distributed force aims to have superior options for massing fires by fielding missiles that have an edge in critical capabilities. These capabilities include long range, low time-to-strike, robust seekers, and waypointing and retargeting capability. Advanced networking and autonomous targeting logic is especially important for enabling missiles to optimize their own searches, defeat softkill measures, and leverage complex attack patterns during their terminal approach. These specific capabilities enhance the ability of weapons to combine into larger volumes of fire, preserve their lethality, and reduce the length of a firing sequence, even if they are fired from widely separated forces.
Much of force structure’s combat value is derived from its ability to deliver and withstand highly lethal payloads, making it vital to understand how different combinations of force structure result in different options for handling massed fires.
Scalable and Proportionate Combined Arms. Force structure must preserve the viability of combined arms relationships across the scope of its distribution. The force structure of a navy’s individual components should all ideally evolve in tandem and in proportion to one another to preserve their combined arms relations. If one dimension of a fleet’s force structure becomes more distributed while another remains relatively concentrated, combined arms relationships may not be as forthcoming.
As one example, the U.S. Navy would already be very hard-pressed to sustainably overlay carrier aviation’s critical enablers over multiple surface action groups that are widely distributed at a distance away from the carrier. If the force structure of the surface fleet becomes more distributed, but the carrier force does not, then many of those more distributed and smaller combatants may be well beyond the reach of naval aviation’s critical enablers. This then puts them and their salvos at greater risk of defeat in detail.
Uneven distribution across force structure can also increase risk to a force’s critical logistical enablers. Smaller ships typically have shorter range than larger ships, which makes them more dependent on logistical support vessels for regular refueling when operating over large oceanic expanses.2 The need to support small warships in a forward operating environment could drive critical support ships deeper into the contested battlespace and put them at higher risk. Or smaller ships would have to remove themselves far and away from the battlespace to meet up with support ships, which comes at the cost of diminishing force distribution.
A force design that plans on introducing large numbers of smaller combatants also demands a commensurate fleet of smaller support ships. Otherwise, the mismatch between the risk-worthiness of the small combatant and the large support ship could substantially increase the risk to critical enablers and force distribution.
Resilient degradation. The attributes that create advantage for a distributed force on a force-wide level should be able to gracefully scale downward if the distributed force fractures into isolated units, rather than allow an adversary to secure outsized leverage by severing links. If the cohesion of a distributed force fractures into standalone units and force concentrations, those isolated elements should still be able to muster substantial volume of fire independently, or be able to form enough proximate connections with nearby forces to mass enough volume on a local basis. Vital combined arms relationships should also be able to withstand force fracturing, or be quickly regenerated by isolated forces seeking each other out.
Last-Ditch Resilience and Effectiveness. Ideally the various elements of a distributed force cannot be easily manipulated into launching wasteful last-ditch fires that needlessly deplete inventory. This instability is minimized by information advantage and by having superior defensive capability at the local level. If elements of a distributed force must fire last-ditch salvos, those salvos are accurate, within reach of viable targets, and can be bolstered by well-controlled contributing fires. Units do not feel compelled to impulsively launch contributing fires to bolster a last-ditch salvo, either because the last-ditch salvo features considerable volume on its own, or due to adequate doctrine and command-and-control.
Critical Tactics and Methods. Aside from more general attributes and traits, specific tactics can create enduring requirements for dedicated force structure. Because sea-skimming salvos should be attrited well before they break over the horizon view of defending warships, the major tactical blindspot imposed by the horizon creates a strong force structure requirement for naval aviation. The desirability of using torpedo attacks to sink warships at far less cost compared to large missile salvos creates a strong requirement for submarines. Certain tactics offer outsized leverage in the battlespace and are deserving of specific force structure. Force structure ultimately exists to manifest the preeminent tactics of the day.
Debating Force Structure Through Small versus Large Surface Combatants
While force design encompasses the whole of the naval enterprise, offering a comprehensive rundown of specific force levels and platform requirements is not the intent of the analysis here. Part 6 assessed the various strengths and weaknesses of major naval platform types, and Part 7 examined the vital enabling roles of naval aviation. Major force structure implications can derive from those factors.
A more focused look at the variability of surface forces can yield broad takeaways for naval force structure. A critical aspect of considering naval force design is in debating the tradeoffs between small and large surface warships in the tactical context of distributed warfighting and massed fires. The comparisons offered here are mainly centered on the magazine depth of surface warships, which is perhaps the core factor in their ability for generating and withstanding mass fires. The average magazine depth of the individual surface force package can have outsized influence over the larger dynamics of mass fires and have cascading effects across combined arms relations.
Small surface warships can be understood as corvettes, fast attack missile boats, and surface warships with a magazine depth of 20 or less vertical launch cells. Large surface warships can be defined as warships with 60 or more vertical launch cells. Useful conclusions about force structure and force packaging can be drawn from how the tactical dynamics of mass fires shift in relation to these two widely separate degrees of magazine depth. A fleet that is more distributed and fields a lower average launch cell count per force package could face very different options and risks when massing fires.
Offense, Defense, and the Unstable Firing Sequence
Small combatants have tended to field smaller missiles with shorter ranges, such as 100 miles or less, and with relatively few missiles per platform.3 This stems from how many of these warships are too small to fit vertical launch cells into their hulls and accommodate the larger and longer-range missiles that would accompany these deeper launchers. Small combatants have instead often had box launchers mounted topside, which imposes major limits on magazine capacity and missile capability. This combination of low magazine depth and shorter-range weapons forces smaller combatants to closely concentrate around a target in larger numbers to achieve enough volume of fire to defeat warship defenses.
The shorter range of box-launched weapons makes it more likely small warships will have to withstand waves of fires if they are to eventually find themselves in a position to launch their own offensive firepower. But when it comes to defensive capability, many small warships that are confined to box launchers also tend to lack the magazine depth and hull space to mount the larger sensors and weapons that facilitate long-range air defense and early warning. Whatever organic air defense capability they field tends to be especially limited, potentially driving small warships toward concentration by the need for denser air defenses. And more warships firing defensive weapons at the same time within the same formation can mean more inefficient weapons depletion, unless those forces are tightly networked and integrated.
If small surface warships are to feature in massed fires, their force structure ideally should equip vertical launch cells at a minimum. Otherwise, a force will incur severe risks by attempting to mass firepower from short-range platforms carrying only a handful of short-range weapons. And even if those platforms do feature vertical launch cells, lower average magazine depth across force packages can have a major effect on the overall character of a mass firing sequence, especially with regard to susceptibility to last-ditch firing pressures, the distribution of timing across a firing sequence, and defensibility. Many of the same disadvantages that derive from box-launched weapons can also be incurred by the increased risk-worthiness of small combatants, where more risk-worthiness implies a capacity for more aggressive posturing in the battlespace.
Small combatants may be heavily dependent on larger warships to provide an enduring measure of air defense coverage. But the isolating effect of the horizon on naval defense tightly compresses the amount of space a warship of any size can defend. A destroyer protecting smaller combatants would only be able to offer meaningful defensive coverage to a relative handful of warships that are very proximate to the destroyer. If a larger number of small combatants want air defense coverage, the more tightly they will have to concentrate around larger combatants, and to perhaps very extreme degrees of concentration. This can create a denser and more distinct mass of signatures an opponent could exploit.
Having aviation provide air defense coverage could allow a wider distribution of small combatants compared to larger warships that are tightly confined by the horizon limit. But aerial assets tend to have more episodic presence compared to warships unless commanders are willing to pay the logistical price of maintaining constant aerial presence. A distributed formation of small combatants may have to hedge against the uncertain persistence of friendly air cover by remaining near larger friendly warships, which comes at the cost of more concentrated force packages.
While steady aviation support can offer more distribution space for small combatants, those warships can still constrain aviation’s maneuver space. In the combined arms relationship between aviation and surface warships, there is a dynamic where the range of the warship’s anti-ship firepower shapes the amount of maneuver space the supporting aviation can leverage in defending the warship and escorting its salvos toward targets. The typically short range of box launcher weapons considerably tightens the amount of space a friendly aircraft can maneuver within between two opposing naval formations. If aviation is to interpose itself in the small space between a formation of friendly small combatants and an opposing large surface warship, then the ranges involved are more likely to put the friendly aircraft within range of the large warship’s air defenses. The range is tight enough to where the aircraft will likely have to worry about its own survivability while also protecting the survivability of the small surface ships and their salvos. And if that target warship launches a last-ditch salvo against the small combatants, the aircraft will be sorely needed to reduce the volume of fire as it is only minutes away from threatening the small warships.
By comparison, vertical launch cells afford supporting aircraft much more maneuver space by virtue of fielding offensive weapons of much longer range. Aircraft that are helping secure warships that are firing on one another hundreds of miles apart will have to worry far less about encountering warship air defenses while shooting down warship-launched anti-ship missiles. The limits of box-launched anti-ship weapons considerably increase the risk to supporting aircraft in this respect.
Shifting toward a more distributed force structure tends to mean a lower average launch cell count per force package, but more force packages overall. Yet this supposed promise of small combatants – fielding more forces across wider distributions – can be in tension with the limits of combined arms relationships. Vertical launch cells can offer small warships more space to distribute and still combine fires, but this increase in spacing and risk-worthiness may take them well beyond the range of friendly aviation support.
It is unclear how willingly small warships would want to venture beyond the umbrella of friendly air coverage, which would already be highly risky for even large warships. Their relatively little long-range air defense capability and the risk of being deprived of friendly aviation support makes widely distributed small warships more susceptible to being stalked, surveilled, and jammed by opposing aircraft. This can put these warships at critical informational disadvantages and make it much easier for the adversary to fire effectively first. If a force is unwilling to risk sending numerous small warships beyond the reach of supporting aviation, then the resulting force posture of those force packages may become more concentrated than what the force design had intended.
Distribution does not only describe the physical aspect of force density, but also the timing aspect of how launches are spread across a firing sequence. It is important to consider where small combatants may fit into a mass firing sequence and how this affects the risk posed to the platform and the firing sequence.
The short range of box-launched missiles typically gives them relatively low time-to-strike, which will likely place their launch platforms far later in a firing sequence, especially one that also includes plenty of Tomahawks. But a small combatant that plans to fire much later in a firing sequence may very well be the first warship to be destroyed by the enemy’s reaction. The longer a warship has to wait to launch during an active firing sequence, the more opportunity the adversary has to launch interruptive strikes against waiting archers. In the case of a small combatant waiting to fire Harpoons or Naval Strike Missiles, it could be forced to wait tens of minutes and even an hour or more while waiting a relatively short distance from the threatened adversary.
Small payloads typically translate into low time-to-strike, which can translate into launching later in a firing sequence, which then converts into more opportunity for a threatened adversary to launch interruptive strikes against the waiting archer. Even if they field longer-range weapons, these effects can also be suffered if the added risk-worthiness of small combatants translates into them being sent deeper into the battlespace and closer to the adversary.
Shortening the firing sequence for the sake of lowering the risk of interruptive strikes against small combatants would come at a steep price. A shorter firing sequence could be obtained by massing enough small combatants so their concentrated formation can launch a standalone salvo of sufficient volume of fire. A shorter firing sequence could also be achieved by combining fires from other domains and platform types, such as aviation, submarines, or stand-in forces that can earn enough proximity to the adversary. But it is debatable how much risk these platforms should assume to help the contributing fires of small combatants become more viable.
Small combatants that do not feature vertical launch cells that can accommodate larger weapons may struggle to put themselves into a more survivable place, both spatially within the battlespace, and temporally within the timeline of a firing sequence. Many of the risks of employing small combatants in mass fires will be mitigated by fielding vertical launch cells that allow them to hold the same long-range weapons that large surface warships can carry, even if their cell count is lower. However, fielding a lower launch cell count per force package still invites some risks with respect to salvo instability.
The relatively weak nature of small combatant defenses makes them highly unstable in a naval missile exchange. A major contributor to this instability is their higher susceptibility to last-ditch firing pressures, which adds instability to the broader mass firing scheme. A warship that can only shoot down a few anti-ship missiles before it is overwhelmed and destroyed may very well be operating on a hair trigger in a major war at sea. If it takes a very low volume of fire for a small warship to feel existentially threatened, then it may take relatively little to provoke these warships into wasting their weapons in last-ditch fires.
And a small volume of fire may not even be needed to be sufficiently threatening. A small warship may have so little defensive capability that methods of active sensing, jamming, posturing, and other actions that could be interpreted as a prelude to an attack could trigger a last-ditch salvo. These methods would allow an adversary to potentially trigger wasteful fires without having to expend any volume of fire of their own. By comparison, larger warships can hold their offensive firepower in reserve while being sensed or even while under active attack, because the incoming fires can have little chance of overwhelming their defenses without enough volume.
A small combatant’s higher susceptibility to last-ditch firing pressures could unravel the effectiveness of a force and its mass firing schemes more rapidly than that of a more concentrated force structure or force posture. In many circumstances a last-ditch salvo will struggle to achieve enough volume of fire, which puts pressure on other platforms to add fires. Because small combatants have smaller magazines, their last-ditch salvos are far less likely to reach meaningful volume without outside support. If small combatants are pressured to discharge last-ditch salvos, then other platforms may also feel strongly pressured to launch contributing fires to give those smaller last-ditch salvos enough volume. If the small warships are close to an adversary or are firing box launcher weapons, then the low time-to-strike would minimize the ability of outside forces to offer contributing fires. This adds further pressure on nearby small warships to launch contributing fires in support of the last-ditch salvos, and makes the firing scheme more unstable. These susceptibility and instability challenges are further exacerbated by the aforementioned difficulties in providing persistent air defense coverage to small combatants.
Larger platforms are less susceptible to last-ditch firing dilemmas by virtue of having denser defenses. It takes more firepower for them to feel existentially threatened, where larger warships are better able to defeat volumes of fire without having their decision-making forced into making irreversible actions. If they must fire a last-ditch salvo, their magazines are deep enough to where they may be able to launch a large enough volume of fire on their own, reducing the pressure on other platforms to contribute fires on short notice, and offering more stability to a mass firing scheme.
When it comes to preserving the longevity of distribution, small combatants can make a force more concentrated through inventory depletion dynamics. Small combatants typically field so few offensive missiles they may have to function like aircraft by firing most if not all of their entire offensive loadout in a single salvo to offer contributing fires. In this sense they combine the disadvantages of both air and surface platforms – the quick depletion of firepower of a small aircraft with the long reload time of a warship.
This can cause small combatants to have a profound influence on the longevity of force distribution in a battlespace. Small combatants could use their numbers to help maximize distribution in the early stages of a fight, but may sharply reduce a force’s distribution shortly after the initial salvos. The shallow nature of small combatant magazines can make their contribution to force distribution more episodic and transient.
After the first few rounds of massed fires, a force may become much more concentrated as its small combatants leave the fight to reload. The ensuing reduction in force distribution makes the remaining warships more vulnerable, and the small combatants may have fewer surviving forces to come back to when they reenter the fight. If a force is counting on a short, sharp war of intense salvo exchanges, small combatants may help frontload the distribution of the force, but then substantially diminish and fluctuate distribution later on.
With respect to complexity of threat presentation, the smaller the magazine, the easier it is for an adversary to ascertain a platform’s missile loadout and tell when it is out of firepower. Many small missile combatants only field one type of offensive missile at a time in their box launchers, simplifying the adversary’s challenge of tracking expenditures and reducing the complexity of threat presentation. Longer-ranged weapons that are fired and waypointed from standoff distances make it more challenging for an adversary to associate specific weapon expenditures with specific force packages. But the typically shorter weapons range and more risk-worthy nature of small combatants can draw them deeper into the battlespace and within easier view of the adversary. If a small combatant depletes itself and then remains in a forward area to maintain a degree of force distribution, it will be easier for the adversary to call the bluff.
Much of the comparison between large and small warships is contingent on specific tactical context. While large combatants have certain advantages over small combatants, it is a broader question of whether a certain force posture or operational design draws more enemy attention toward the larger or smaller combatants of a fleet. Many of the disadvantages of smaller combatants may not be incurred if an enemy believes the larger combatants are more deserving of their massed fires. Much of the drive toward distribution is also fueled by a concern that great power competitors will not struggle to muster overwhelming volumes of fire no matter how dense the naval target. But what is critical to understand is that smaller warships have certain drawbacks that can encourage them to concentrate among themselves and also form force packages with larger warships. And a large group of small ships is still a concentrated formation that can become a priority target for an adversary.
Force packages of large warships can certainly invite catastrophic levels destruction if even a handful of salvos land their blows. Each successful enemy salvo would result in especially steep losses in capability, and where it could easily take 20 or more years of shipbuilding to regenerate major losses. Given the already tightly stretched nature of the U.S. Navy in meeting its existing peacetime commitments, if a single large naval formation falls prey to a salvo, then it could radically reshape the global force posture of the U.S. Navy for the foreseeable future.
A more distributed force structure may be perceived as being able to degrade more gracefully under fire than a more concentrated force structure. But a force that takes distribution to an extreme will be stretched thin, and it may be difficult to perceive the overextension until it is too late. Being stretched thin, whether as a matter of force structure or force posture, invites defeat in detail while making it more difficult for a force to combine its fires. Rather than suffer catastrophic destruction in one fell swoop like a more concentrated force, a force that is stretched thin could suffer rapid cumulative destruction as distributed elements are picked off through defeat in detail.
It is important to be mindful of how small combatants may figure into fleet-on-fleet massed fires, and consider what risks may come with mass firing options whose dependencies could often stem from small combatant disadvantages.
Network Degradation and Fracturing Distributed Forces
Network reliability has a tremendous effect on the extent to which forces and capabilities can be distributed and concentrated in combat. But the distribution and concentration of capability is also what force structure seeks to optimize. A fleet that is built on a vision of a well-functioning network could have a vastly different composition compared to a fleet that expects to mostly fight in the dark.4
Concepts of force employment and force design are heavily influenced by perceptions about the offensive-defensive balance and the hider-finder competition. These beliefs have trended in the direction that the finders and the attackers have been gaining the advantage as sensors and offensive weapons have grown more capable in relation to their counters. It is easier to be found, and once found, it is easier to be destroyed.
Regardless of the overall trends, these balances and competitions are still dependent on specific operational context. The state of advantage is markedly different when a fight is characterized by low emissions, probing scouts, and massed fires held at the ready, versus when the fight has erupted into a cacophony of signatures, networks are degraded or overwhelmed, and widely distributed forces are consumed with their local battles. The ability of a force to mass fires will degrade in combat, especially when command-and-control struggles to keep pace with the rapidly evolving situation.
Force design and force employment must account for how operations may take on a widely different character in these contexts, and how the state of advantage may change. It is especially critical to envision how a collection of widely distributed forces that were meant to combine fires can instead fracture into individual force concentrations that attempt standalone attacks, and what this could imply for designing resilient force structure.
When a network degrades and a distributed force fractures into smaller concentrations, defensive capability rises in relative strength against offensive capability. This is because the act of massing fires across forces is inherently more dependent on networks compared to warship self-defense. While degraded networks could challenge the ability of ships to leverage aviation for missile defense, the radar horizon has an isolating effect on warship defense regardless of the health of the network. An attacking volume of fire can be drawn from a variety of widely separated forces, but the defending volume of fire can be mainly limited to what the targeted warships can muster through their organic capability. A degraded network makes it harder for a ship to make use of its offensive firepower, but the ship’s organic defensive capacity is left relatively untouched. Because of this, the offensive requirement for massing enough volume of fire remains intact, but the ability to meet that requirement becomes much more difficult.
This can shift the character of naval salvo combat when the ability to mass fires is degraded. Standalone force concentrations that are isolated from the broader network may be compelled to seek out other isolated forces in a bid to pool enough capability so they can muster enough volume of fire. But the act of having to seek out and combine with other forces can cause isolated units to release emissions, travel beyond the familiar local battlespace, form denser force concentrations, and engage in other behaviors that increase their targetability.
Because their ability to muster enough volume of fire is more doubtful, isolated forces would also be more pressured to deplete much larger shares of their magazine depth per salvo. Their uncertainty would be especially worsened if they are unable to assess the effectiveness of their attacks against distant targets or track adversary weapons expenditure. This knowledge is valuable for calibrating weapons expenditure, and uncertainty would encourage a force to expend larger volumes of fire to err on the side of risking more overkill to ensure lethal effect. These isolated forces would then suffer quicker depletion than if they could combine their fires in smaller increments with broader forces. As isolated forces form ad-hoc force packages and improvise standalone fires, the distributed posture of the overall force would degrade as isolated units quickly deplete themselves in piecemeal fashion.
Isolated forces that retain a significant amount of capacity, such as larger warships or force concentrations, will be less likely to face these pressures. Larger warships will have deeper magazines, more robust sensors, and organic aviation detachments, where each helps preserve a warship’s ability to gather information and muster enough volume of fire when isolated.
Isolated small combatants that are severed from the network will be less likely to launch enough volume of fire on their own. They will be more dependent on seeking out other forces to pool enough magazine capacity, and where the search for other isolated forces could invite more risk. And even if coherence is preserved, the dependence on outside forces and functioning networks is still greater overall for small combatants. A force that primarily fights as a collection of broadly distributed small combatants is a force that is fundamentally more dependent on network resilience.
Distribution of Fire Across Force Structure
Distribution is often described as a force multiplier through challenging command-and-control, especially by making targeting priorities less clear.5 But steep command-and-control burdens can also come with sourcing firepower from one’s own forces, organizing that firepower into a timely mass firing sequence, committing to seeing it through, and assessing the effects. The density of the opponent’s defenses can increase these command-and-control burdens. While a denser concentration of capability can add clarity to target prioritization, it can also add ambiguity by creating doubts about whether many different kill chains can be effectively harmonized into generating the necessary volume of fire on time. This allows dense defensive capability to also impose challenges on adversary decision-making, but through different mechanisms than force distribution.
When assembling massed fires, commanders have to make decisions about distribution in two key respects. Commanders have to decide how they will source firepower from across their force structure, and decide how to distribute that firepower across the force structure of the adversary. Different force designs will affect the distribution of how firepower is sourced and applied.
A commander who is assembling massed fires will have two primary options for growing the volume of fire. One option is to pull deeper from larger magazines, and another is to add more platforms to the firing sequence. With respect to the command-and-control burden, it should generally be easier to pull deeper from a larger platform’s magazine then it will be to add more platforms to the firing sequence. If a commander decides they need to quickly add more volume of fire to an imminent firing sequence, it may be easier to ask a large warship to fire 30 more missiles than originally planned, rather than source the same firepower by adding multiple new platforms and force packages to the firing sequence on short notice.
Each new platform and force package that is added to a firing sequence will make that sequence subject to more sources of friction, such as by hoping each unit’s local operational circumstances are favorable enough for it to launch fires on time. The more distributed platforms that are added, the more the firing sequence may incur interruptions, delays, and other challenges. A firing sequence that features many small and widely separated combatants and force packages will have more variability. A force that is mainly composed of small combatants is more likely to grow a volume of fire by adding more platforms to the firing sequence rather than taking deeper pulls on magazines.
By comparison, there is less command-and-control friction and less variability when asking a large surface warship, or a denser concentration of forces, to simply fire a larger volume of fire. This is not to suggest that one method of adding fires will always tend to be superior, but it demonstrates how the concentration of capability can simplify command-and-control in valuable respects, especially in a form of warfighting where a speedier ability to marshal volume of fire can be decisive in firing effectively first.
Choosing to organize and launch a large volume of fire against a naval formation is a momentous operational decision and inflection point. But the weight of decision may shift depending on the scale of the target formation and the volume of fire required to overwhelm it. The prospect of incurring substantial weapons depletion in a single firing sequence, while operating with an imprecise grasp of the offensive-defensive balance of naval salvo combat, may weigh more heavily on the minds of commanders when tasked with destroying denser naval formations compared to smaller, more distributed elements.
Conclusion
Decades of naval capability trends have encouraged high-end fleet design to focus on being able to generate and withstand massive volumes of missile firepower. While great power rivalry has set the stage for this incredibly resource-intensive form of combat to escalate, it has also set the stage for asymmetric counters and offsets that could radically reshape naval force structure. A squadron of small quadcopters could render a destroyer impotent where an anti-ship missile salvo could not, or microwave weapons could one day negate salvos that could not be stopped by advanced defensive missiles. Asymmetric counters are appearing on the horizon, but their long-term consequences for naval force structure are difficult to perceive.
The truth of what ultimately makes for superior naval force structure and weapon interactions is a moving target, something that is evolving rapidly and imperceptibly as technology changes and humanity’s ability to grasp the implications ebbs and flows. Much of this truth will remain unseen until it is violently unmasked by high-end warfare.
Part 10 will focus on force development efforts for manifesting DMO.
2. For reference, a 9,500-ton Arleigh Burke-class destroyer can travel 4,400 nautical miles at 20 knots on a full load of fuel, while a 3,500-ton Littoral Combat Ship can travel 3,500 nautical miles at 14 knots on a full fuel load.
Featured Image: PACIFIC OCEAN (April 9, 2022) – Guided-missile destroyer USS Zumwalt (DDG 1000) steams behind amphibious assault ship USS Tripoli (LHA 7), April 9, 2022. (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 1st Class Peter Burghart)