Category Archives: Capability Analysis

Analyzing Specific Naval and Maritime Platforms

Fighting DMO, Pt. 2: Anti-Ship Firepower and the Major Limits of the American Naval Arsenal

Read Part 1 on defining distributed maritime operations.

By Dmitry Filipoff

Introduction

As navies look to evolve during the missile age, much of their ability to threaten other fleets will come down to how well they can mass missile firepower. The ability to combine fires against warships heavily depends upon the traits of the weapons themselves. These traits offer a valuable framework for defining the aggregation potential of individual weapons and the broader force’s ability to mass fires.

In the following breakdowns of tactical dynamics and weapon capabilities, it should become clear that virtually all of the U.S. military’s current anti-ship missiles are lacking crucial traits that are essential for massing fires. The consequence is a force with few good options for sinking ships with missiles, and how this could remain the case through the next decade. But new game-changing weapons are on the way, and DMO is the concept that is poised to harness a major transformation in the U.S. Navy’s firepower.

How Mass Fires Define Limits of Distribution

There is a fundamental tension in looking to spread forces out yet still combine their firepower. The range of weaponry is a critical factor that limits the extent to which forces can distribute from another while still being able to combine their fires. This core tension between distribution and aggregation has a strong influence over the tactics and dispositions of a distributed force.

Longer-ranged weapons allow for the broader distribution of launch platforms, while shorter-ranged weapons will force greater concentration. This dynamic can be illustrated using range rings that show the area forces must reside within if they are to combine their fires against a shared target. Range rings are typically used to show the range of a weapon and are centered on the weapon’s launch platform. In this different method of using “reverse” range rings (for lack of a better term), the ring is centered on the target, and shows the area from where the target can be hit by a given weapon. In other words, to strike a target within the range of the Tomahawk missile, a launch platform must be within a 1,000-mile ring of the target.1 Other platforms using the same weapon must also be within this ringed area, highlighting the extent of distribution that is possible while still combining fires. By comparison, platforms using SM-6 or Harpoon have to distribute within much tighter spaces to combine fires (Figure 1).

Figure 1. Click to expand. Range rings centered on a target illustrate the scope of distribution that is possible with various weapons while still being able to combine fires. (Author graphic)

Launch platforms using different weapons with different ranges must have the rings overlap with one another, at least by the time their fires are combining over the target. These reverse range rings show how longer-range weapons allow for the broader distribution of launch platforms, and how shorter-range weapons, especially versions of the common Harpoon missile, force much tighter concentration around a target (Figure 2).

Figure 2. Click to expand. “Reverse” range rings featuring all U.S. anti-ship missiles. (Author graphic)

The specific ranges of missiles are strongly affected by their flight profiles and are not always a linear, set amount in practice. Missiles and aircraft that fly higher earn longer range, partly through the thinner air at higher altitudes.2 But this comes at the expense of being more detectable and potentially less survivable. Low altitude sea-skimming flight maximizes the element of surprise at a significant cost to range and fuel economy. Different flight profiles can be programmed into missiles depending on the tactical circumstances, and many anti-ship missiles can be programmed with non-linear flight paths and waypoints.3 It is often unclear in publicly available information what kind of flight profile is associated with the published range of the missile.

These factors make range rings more elastic than they appear. This variability of flight profiles adds another dimension of complexity to combining fires. For the sake of consistency in the graphics used here, it is assumed that all missiles of the same type are using the same flight profile in linear attacks. Another elastic factor is the maximum effective range of a weapon, which is not the same as the maximum flying range. The distance a missile can be effectively targeted can be less than how far the missile can travel. Maximum flying ranges are used here for consistency.

Having long-range weaponry is extremely valuable in modern naval warfare because weapon range helps shifts the burden of maneuver from the slower platform to the faster payload. This advantage is especially critical to navies because of the significant speed differential between ships and missiles. A warship with a short-ranged anti-ship missile would have to maneuver for hours and even days to strike multiple targets spread across an ocean. But a warship with a long-ranged weapon could hold all those same targets at risk simultaneously with no maneuver. A single warship with Tomahawk can hold targets near Luzon, Taiwan, and Okinawa at risk simultaneously, while a ship with SM-6 could only hold one of those areas at risk at a time. The warship with SM-6 would have to spend significant time maneuvering to eventually hold all of these areas at risk, and only in sequence (Figure 3).

Figure 3. Click to expand. Conventional range rings centered on the launch platform highlight the ability of longer-ranged weaponry to hold many more targets at risk simultaneously compared to shorter-ranged weaponry. (Author graphic)

This relationship between range and maneuver highlights the critical dynamic of how one force’s distribution can make the adversary’s stretched thin or concentrated. If one force package has shorter-ranged weapons than its adversary, it has less space it can distribute within and still combine fires. The short-ranged force package is more concentrated than its opposition, and may only be able to threaten one portion of the opposing distributed force at a time, if it can get in range. By comparison, many more elements of the distributed force can hold the shorter-ranged force at risk, and from safer standoff distances. Rings within rings can illustrate how the force with longer-ranged weapons can enjoy a broader distribution and mass firing advantage over a force with less range (Figures 4 and 5).

Figure 4. Click to expand. Reverse range rings centered on a REDFOR ship illustrate the extent of distribution for BLUFOR ships combining fires with SM-6, and the extent of distribution for REDFOR ships combining fires with YJ-18. The BLUFOR ships can only hold one REDFOR ship at risk at a time, if they can get within range, while all REDFOR ships can hold all BLUFOR ships at risk simultaneously. A majority of REDFOR ships can fire from standoff ranges. (Author graphic)
Figure 5. Click to expand. Reverse range rings centered on a BLUFOR ship illustrate the extent of distribution for BLUFOR ships combining fires with Tomahawk, and the extent of distribution for REDFOR ships combining fires with YJ-18. The REDFOR ships can only hold one BLUFOR ship at risk at a time, if they can get within range, while all BLUFOR ships can hold all REDFOR ships at risk simultaneously. A majority of BLUFOR ships can fire from standoff ranges. (Author graphic)

What can be defined as distributed, concentrated, or stretched thin is less a matter of a specific range or density of forces. Rather, it is better understood as a relationship between one’s own capabilities, and how that compares to the relationship between the capabilities of the adversary. A force that believes it is well-distributed could actually be heavily concentrated in the context of an adversary with much longer-ranged capability.

Anti-ship weapons that are specifically designed for multi-role aircraft are often much smaller than warship-based weapons that are fielded in large launch cells, which often causes these aircraft-based weapons to have lesser range. Aircraft can compensate for lesser weapons range with their faster platform maneuver, whereas warships can compensate for their slower platform maneuver with the longer range of their larger weapons. Understanding this relationship between platform maneuver and payload maneuver and how they can complement and compensate for one another is critical to assembling massed fires.

But range is only one critical variable for assessing the ability to mass fires. Other critical traits include launch cell compatibility, platform compatibility, number of weapons procured, and numbers of weapons fielded per platform. These traits combine to highlight the true extent of a navy’s offensive firepower.

Harpoon and the Perils of Carrier Strike

The Harpoon missile was the U.S. Navy’s first anti-ship missile and has remained its primary anti-ship weapon for more than 45 years.4 The way the U.S. Navy has continued to field this missile has created severe operational liabilities for U.S. sea control and the credibility of American security guarantees in the Indo-Pacific writ large. The Harpoon missile underscores a critical capability gap of major strategic significance by highlighting just how little anti-ship missile firepower the U.S. military has. The weapon’s shortcomings are emphasized by the especially risky tactics the U.S. would be forced to use in war to make much use of it.

The Harpoon missile’s greatest weakness comes through its combination of short range at 80 miles for the more common variants and the lack of meaningful inventory in all its compatible launch platforms save for one – aircraft carriers.5 The short range of this missile draws the U.S. Navy’s most expensive and least risk-worthy platform deeper into the battlespace, while funneling carrier air wings into exceedingly concentrated anti-ship attacks. But because the U.S. Navy has lagged for decades in fielding a meaningful replacement for Harpoon, the highly risky method of attacking ships with carrier air wings is the only tactic the U.S. military effectively has for sinking high-end warships at long range.

The Harpoon missile has the broadest platform compatibility of any U.S. anti-ship weapon, where it can be fielded by submarines, surface ships, bombers, land-based launchers (which the U.S. sells to partners but does not procure for itself), and carrier air wings. But despite the U.S. Navy having more than 9,000 vertical launch cells for missiles, the Harpoon is incompatible with these launchers.6 Instead, it has to be kept in torpedo racks or in launchers mounted topside, which are highly uneconomical methods that severely reduce the number of weapons that can be fielded per warship. U.S. Navy destroyers and cruisers only carry eight Harpoon missiles despite having around 100 launch cells per platform, and the number of torpedo tubes per submarine typically numbers in the single digits. What launch cells offer is significant magazine depth on both an individual platform and force-wide basis, making launch cell compatibility a crucial trait for massing fires.

PACIFIC OCEAN (Feb. 18, 2008) Note the four Harpoon missile launchers in the background and the 64 vertical launch cells in the foreground. Original caption: Seaman Robert Paterson, of Norgo, Cal., stands watch next to the aft vertical launch missile platform on the fantail while underway on the guided-missile cruiser USS Lake Erie (CG 70). (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 2nd Class Michael Hight)

As a general rule of thumb, any alert and modern warship larger than a corvette should be able to hold its own against a salvo of only eight subsonic anti-ship missiles, or else the warship can hardly justify its cost. U.S. surface and submarine launch platforms are hardly able to muster enough volume of fire to credibly threaten most modern warships with their sparse inventories of Harpoon missiles. This shallow magazine depth creates a strong need for massing fires between multiple platforms to achieve enough volume of fire. But the extremely short range of Harpoon means this weapon has barely any potential for aggregation with other ship-launched Harpoon missiles, unless commanders are willing to concentrate numerous warships to an extreme degree.

This combination of launch cell incompatibility and short range in the Navy’s mainstay anti-ship weapon forces carrier aviation to shoulder most of the burden of massing enough volume of fire. Only the air wing can conceivably mass enough platforms to create enough volume of fire, while having a chance of getting those platforms close enough to a target warship to launch a strike. These factors make aircraft carriers the only platform that can muster a combat credible volume of Harpoon fire.

An F/A-18 Hornet can equip up to four Harpoon missiles, where only two of these aircraft can match the Harpoon firepower of a U.S. Navy cruiser or destroyer. But against high-end warships, achieving combat credible volumes of Harpoon fire requires massing large numbers of carrier aircraft. Overwhelming a single surface action group of several modern destroyers, each with dozens of anti-air weapons and several layers of hardkill and softkill defenses, could conceivably require the majority of an air wing. The remaining few aircraft would be thinly stretched between maintaining combat air patrols, providing tanking and jamming support to the striking squadrons, among other roles. By heavily concentrating the burden of massing volume of fire on air wings, those air wings are subsequently stretched thin across a multitude of other critical missions.

Attempting to mass fires with a missile that is very short-ranged creates severe tactical risks. The short range of Harpoon forces an extremely tight and dense concentration of carrier aircraft around the target to muster enough firepower to be overwhelming. Harpoon’s short range also makes it a weapon that cannot always be confidently fired from standoff distances beyond the range of modern air defenses, unlike many anti-ship missiles. Instead, Harpoon can force air wings to concentrate themselves well within the range of opposing shipboard air defenses. Warship air defense weapons, such as China’s HHQ-9B missiles, can approach and even exceed the short ranges of the Harpoon, putting adversaries into the more favorable position of being able to threaten archers before they can fire arrows (Figure 6).7

Figure 6. Click to expand. Harpoon and LRASM reverse range rings centered on a target illustrate the limits of distribution while massing fires. The center ring illustrates the range of the target’s longest-range air defense weapons, showing how Harpoon-equipped aircraft will have to enter within range of these air defense weapons to mass fires. (Author graphic)

Survivability concerns not only apply to carriers, but to their air wings as well. Air wings are highly sensitive to attrition, where losing even a few aircraft per sortie can quickly render certain missions unsustainable. This is especially true for anti-ship missions that require large numbers of aircraft to achieve sufficient volume of fire. The Navy’s air wings can be risking substantial losses by using a missile that is so short ranged that it can force them to send large and tightly concentrated aerial formations into the teeth of modern naval air defenses. The air wing’s ability to mass enough anti-ship firepower would be rendered impotent in a matter of days if not hours by suffering even minor losses on only a few of these risky strikes.

A visualization of aircraft attrition rates. (Graphic via slide deck of “Sharpening the Spear: The Carrier, the Joint Force, and High-End Conflict” by Seth Cropsey, Bryan G. McGrath, and Timothy A. Walton, Hudson Institute, October 2015.)

Carrier air wings may be resisted by far more than warship air defenses. The signature posed by a mass of carrier aircraft heading toward a target at high altitude could provide plenty of warning to vector opposing airpower into position to blunt the strike. Compared to the aircraft defending the airspace, anti-ship squadrons would likely be at a hardpoint and maneuverability disadvantage. Many of their hardpoints would be taken up by a combination of heavy anti-ship weapons and drop tanks, with potentially fewer anti-air weapons loaded compared to the opposing dogfighters. If the anti-ship aircraft are intercepted before they are within range of attacking warships, they may be forced to dogfight and evade missiles while having their maneuverability impacted by the heavy anti-ship weapon loadouts. Drop tanks, anti-air, and anti-ship weapons will compete for similar hardpoints on carrier aircraft, setting the stage for difficult tradeoffs between survivability, concentration, and mustering enough volume of cruise missile fires.

An F/A-18E flying with a varied weapons loadout. (Lockheed Martin photo)

Anti-ship strikes can be conducted near the limits of the air wing’s range to maximize standoff distance. But the short range of Harpoon combined with the relatively short range of current generation carrier aircraft (compared to past and future generations of air wings), forces the carrier deeper into the contested battlespace and potentially incurs more risk. Harpoon not only threatens the tight concentration of valuable carrier aircraft around targets, it threatens to pull the carrier itself deeper into riskier territory.

Extending the range of the air wing through drop tanks or tanking aircraft can help keep the carrier further out, but this will diminish the volume of firepower by devoting hardpoints and aircraft to fuel instead of weapons. This can benefit the survivability of the carriers more than the air wings, where adding range to the air wing can improve the carrier’s survivability by allowing it to launch strikes from further away. But this will do less for the air wing’s survivability because the short range of their anti-ship weapons will still force tight concentration around the target regardless.

When it comes to managing the signatures of aircraft carriers, not only does the signature of the carrier have to be taken into account, but the signature of the air wing as well. The signatures and footprints of air wing operations can contribute toward concealing or revealing the carrier’s location. Maximizing the standoff range of an air wing launching a massed anti-ship strike encourages a more linear flight path to and from the target, a denser concentration of aircraft throughout the flight path, and higher altitude flight that extends the range but increases the detectability of the aircraft. Even though it maximizes standoff distance, a linear flight path could more easily lead an adversary back to the carrier by virtue of predictability.

Shortening the carrier’s range to the target or devoting more hardpoints and aircraft to fueling can give the air wing more margin to increase the complexity of force presentation. It can allow the air wing to more widely distribute itself and take nonlinear paths to and from the target, which can help conceal the carrier’s location (Figure 7). However, ensuring a disaggregated air wing can effectively come together on time to mass fires poses more complex challenges for mission planning compared to a more linear strike, especially when combining fires with other types of platforms. And a distributed nonlinear flight profile may have to come at the cost of decreasing the overall striking range of the carrier and pull it deeper into the battlespace.

Figure 7. Click to expand. A visualization of carrier strike flight profiles, where each flight path is 500 miles from the carrier to the target. A concentrated linear strike has more overall range, but offers less complex force presentation in some respects than a distributed, nonlinear strike. Yet the distributed flight profile shortens the overall range of the carrier’s striking power. (Author graphic)

Overall, many of the survivability concerns and tradeoffs of using air wings and carriers in anti-ship roles are substantially worsened by the Harpoon missile’s traits. But the major advantage Harpoon has over all the other anti-ship weapons in the U.S. arsenal is its inventory numbers. While recent public information on current figures appears unavailable, data from the 1990s suggests an inventory of as many as 6,000 missiles.8 It is reasonable to assume that the figure today remains in the thousands, compared to most other U.S. anti-ship missiles which have been procured only in the hundreds or dozens. But the ability to leverage the depth of the Harpoon inventory is tightly bottlenecked by the shallowness of the individual platform magazines it is fielded in, given its launch cell incompatibility.

Due to the major risks air wings and carriers must take to effectively mass the very short-ranged Harpoon, maybe the Navy’s carriers would be better served by not using this weapon in a fleet-on-fleet fight. Doing so could enhance the survivability of carriers, air wings, and the surface ships that escort them. But it would mean coming to terms with how the vast majority of the U.S. Navy’s force structure and missile arsenal is hardly able to threaten modern naval formations with anti-ship firepower. Virtually all of the U.S. military’s anti-ship capability could then be narrowly confined to what the submarine force can accomplish with torpedoes alone.

One has to be careful about extrapolating specific tactics from basic weapon limits, given how shortcomings in capability can be compensated by creative operational design. Maybe the Navy is counting on the submarine force sinking the adversary’s high-end surface combatants to pave the way for carrier anti-ship strikes, but that will do little against the land-based airpower those carrier aircraft may still have to tangle with.

November 2015 – An F/A-18 armed with a Harpoon Block II+ missile during a free flight test at Point Mugu’s Sea Range in California. (U.S. Navy photo)

This design of having the entirety of the U.S. military’s long-range anti-ship capability completely concentrated in massive aircraft carriers, who must in turn heavily concentrate their valuable air wings to execute the tactic, is extremely contrary to the principle of distribution. What Harpoon tactics reveal is that after severely lagging in anti-ship missile development for more than half a century, the U.S. Navy has deprived itself of many critical options for fighting another great power navy.

SM-6 and Diluting Capability Across Missions

The SM-6 is unique among the Navy’s anti-ship missiles. It is the only supersonic anti-ship weapon in the Navy’s arsenal, it can be used against both aerial and warship targets, and it has the highest production rate of the Navy’s latest generation of anti-ship weapons. Featuring 150 miles of range for the more common variants, it offers a modest improvement of range over the latest Harpoon variants.9 It is also the only Navy shipboard anti-air missile that may be used to aggregate defensive firepower at long range. However, some of the supposed strengths of SM-6 create drawbacks when it comes to massing firepower for anti-ship strikes.

The high speed of the SM-6, which is more than Mach 3, improves the survivability and lethality of the missile when it comes to breaking through warship defenses and striking the target at high speeds.10 However, the high speed of the missile complicates its ability to combine fires with the Navy’s other anti-ship weapons, which are all subsonic. If SM-6 is to combine with subsonic missiles, then it must either be fired near the end of a mass firing sequence to ensure timely overlap, or the platforms firing subsonic missiles must be much closer to the target than the warship firing SM-6. (This dynamic will be discussed more closely in Part 3.)

The multi-mission versatility of the weapon poses challenges for effective mass fires by complicating release authorities. If a distributed force is to combine anti-ship fires across multiple platforms, then the release authority for offensive anti-ship weapons may naturally reside at a higher echelon than the commander of an individual ship, who typically lacks the organic sensors to target these weapons against warships at long range. But the intense speed and lethality of missile attacks on warships means individual commanders should be afforded the authority to prosecute their local air defense missions with great initiative, especially to avoid defeat in detail. If a unit-level commander feels compelled to employ SM-6 for the sake of ship self-defense, then that may diminish a higher-echelon commander’s options for massing anti-ship fires.

The typical flight profile of long-range anti-air weapons poses another challenge to the effectiveness of SM-6 as an anti-ship weapon. While long-range anti-air weapons can certainly hit sea-level targets, their initial phase of flight typically involves a boost phase that takes them to higher altitude.11 Higher altitude makes it easier for the missile to achieve its maximum speed and range before it descends back down to hit lower-altitude threats. However, a higher altitude flight profile creates disadvantages when attacking warships. High-altitude flight broadens the area from which a missile can be detected and engaged from, possibly giving more warships the opportunity to engage the missile and with more time to take multiple shots. Sea-skimming flight by comparison can force air defense engagements into the immediate area of only the target warship. The SM-6 missile’s high speed is not so great that it effectively compensates for these risks of high-altitude flight. The boost phase of an SM-6 launch can give almost double the reaction time to a target warship’s radars compared to a slower subsonic missile that is only detected after it breaks over the target’s horizon.12

It is unclear if SM-6 can be fired on a flatter trajectory and maintain an end-to-end sea-skimming flight profile. Doing so would likely deprive it of a significant amount of range. It would also make it more difficult for the missile to apply the greatest source of its lethality against warships – its high speed. The warheads of anti-air weapons are much smaller than those of purpose-built anti-ship weapons, where the warhead of SM-6 is about only 15 percent of the size of an LRASM or Tomahawk warhead.13 SM-6 needs to reach high speeds to be at its most lethal against warships, but achieving those speeds is heavily dependent on higher-altitude flight profiles that make the missile less survivable.

The U.S. Navy Arleigh-Burke class guided-missile destroyer USS John Paul Jones (DDG-53) launches an SM-6 missile during a live-fire test of the ship’s Aegis weapons system in the Pacific Ocean. (U.S. Navy photo)

The range of SM-6 is not so long that its offensive anti-ship roles can be cleanly separated from its defensive anti-air roles. The concept of “standoff” fires implies that a valuable margin of survivability can be earned by outranging an opponent’s ability to strike back. But the range of many great power anti-ship missiles is great enough to where SM-6 cannot be comfortably used in a purely standoff role for attacking modern warships. If a warship is within range of attacking another high-end warship with SM-6, then it is also likely within range of anti-ship missile threats that could force the ship to expend SM-6 on defense instead. This effect becomes even more relevant when longer-ranged weapons like opposing anti-ship ballistic missiles can cast a long shadow over thousands of miles of ocean.14 Commanders may opt to reserve their most capable air defense weapon for protection against the adversary’s most capable anti-ship missiles.

Because modern anti-ship weapons tend to outrange most anti-air weapons, it is much more feasible to combine offensive firepower than defensive firepower from across distributed forces. SM-6 may mark an exception by using the unique NIFC-CA capability that allows it to be targeted beneath the radar horizon of the launching warship. The range of SM-6, its high speed relative to the subsonic anti-ship missiles it could be used against, and its ability to be retargeted beneath the horizon make the aggregation of defensive firepower possible.15 This is an especially unique capability, but adds more complexity to the command-and-control arrangements undergirding massed fires.

Compared to all of the Navy’s other modern anti-ship missiles (excluding the aging Harpoon), SM-6 has an advantage in being produced at consistent full-rate production for a number of years since being introduced in 2013, with more than 1,300 missiles in the inventory.16 By comparison, all of the Navy’s other latest generation of anti-ship weapons currently exist in very low numbers that make them hardly applicable to the large-scale salvo requirements of modern naval warfare.

However, most of the SM-6 production runs to date have been for earlier variants whose anti-ship ranges are only marginally better than the latest Harpoon variants.17 While longer-ranged versions of SM-6 are forthcoming, the vast majority of the current inventory will offer little improvement in broadening the extent to which warships can distribute and still be able to combine fires.

Even if longer-ranged versions of SM-6 quickly arrive in large numbers, much of the missile’s versatility could have to be set aside to fill the Navy’s critical anti-ship capability gap through the near term. SM-6 is currently the Navy’s only somewhat numerous, launch-cell compatible, and long-range anti-ship weapon. But its multi-mission capabilities threaten to dilute the inventory across diverse threats. The Navy may be forced to maintain SM-6 as its only viable modern anti-ship missile until other anti-ship weapons are produced in large enough numbers to make a real difference and free SM-6 to fulfill its air defense potential. But given how current production runs are trending, this could take at least 10-15 years to accomplish. If the Navy finds itself in a major naval conflict this decade, it may be forced to forego much of SM-6’s cutting edge air defense capability for the sake of retaining a modicum of long-range anti-ship firepower. 

Maritime Strike Tomahawk – The Foundational Enabler of Massed Fires

More than 40 years after an anti-ship Tomahawk first struck a seaborne target in testing, the Navy will be reintroducing an anti-ship variant of the missile.18 More so than any other U.S. anti-ship weapon to be fielded in the coming years, the Maritime Strike Tomahawk holds the greatest promise in fostering a major evolution in the Navy’s ability to distribute platforms and mass anti-ship fires.

Tomahawk’s great advantage is its combination of launch cell compatibility and very long range at more than 1,000 miles.19 Many platforms will be able to carry large numbers of an especially long-range weapon, creating a wide range of options for massing fires. Long range also gives the weapon more opportunity to vary its flight paths and use waypointing, which can be used to execute a variety of tactics and facilitate aggregation with other salvos.

By finally having an anti-ship missile that is both long-range and launch cell compatible, the Navy will be poised to drastically increase the amount of anti-ship firepower across a much greater distribution of platforms. Land-based Tomahawk launchers are also on the way for the U.S. Army and Marine Corps, which will significantly increase options for massing fires if those services procure the weapon in major numbers.20

U.S. Army Mid-Range Capability ground-based missile launcher program. (U.S. Army slide)

However, the Maritime Strike Tomahawk’s potential will not be fully realized until many years from now. It will not reach initial operating capability until 2024 and is currently in its early years of low-rate initial production and testing, with roughly 100 MST kits procured so far.21 The Navy is looking to upgrade all of its Block IV Tomahawks into Block V variants, and it is possible up to 300 recertification kits may be installed per year.22 But it is unclear if every recertification will also add the maritime strike capability through the specific Block Va configuration.23

At this rate, it could take 10 or more years before the Navy has enough inventory of the foundational missile that will allow it to truly make distributed and massed anti-ship fires a reality.

Jan. 27, 2015 – A Tomahawk cruise missile hits a moving maritime target after being launched from the USS Kidd (DDG-100) near San Nicolas Island in California. (U.S. Navy video)

LRASM – A Leap Forward Yet Still More of the Same

The Long-Range Anti-Ship Missile (LRASM) will mark an important upgrade to the Navy’s anti-ship firepower. Featuring a stealthy profile and an estimated range of around 350 miles, LRASM outranges all of the Navy’s other anti-ship weapons except for Tomahawk.24 Yet LRASM does little to enhance the Navy’s ability to mass fires from across distributed forces.

LRASM’s potential for mass fires is heavily constrained by platform compatibility because it is not a launch cell compatible weapon. LRASM can only currently be fielded by bombers and carrier aircraft. Despite tests suggesting that LRASM can be fired from launch cells, the Navy continues to describe the program as “a key air launched component of the Navy’s overall Cruise Missile Strategy…”25 In 2021, industry partnered with an Australian firm to refine the development of a surface-launched variant of LRASM that has been termed “LRASM SL,” suggesting that launch cell compatible versions of this weapon are distinct from what the U.S. Navy is procuring for itself.26

A July 2016 test of the LRASM from a MK-41 launcher on the Navy’s Self Defense Test Ship. (Lockheed Martin photo)

Even though LRASM’s range makes it a much less risky missile for air wings to fire at targets compared to Harpoon, these strikes would still tie down a large portion of the air wing to mass enough firepower to be overwhelming. LRASM does not alleviate the need for large volume of fire, which strains the air wing’s ability to cover multiple other roles besides strike. Even with its advanced capabilities, LRASM will not change certain fundamental disadvantages of massing air wings to conduct long-range strikes against warships.

The amount of LRASM inventory is extremely low at about 250 missiles procured for the Navy so far.27 The Air Force’s inventory is even smaller and only numbers slightly less than 100.28 Although the Air Force’s bombers can equip Harpoon missiles, the short range of that weapon and their especially low procurement rate of LRASM may mean the U.S. military’s bombers will have barely any anti-ship firepower to contribute to U.S. sea control for the foreseeable future.

LRASM shares a production line with the much more numerous Joint Air-to-Surface Standoff Missile (JASSM) it is adapted from, and where more than 2,000 JASSM weapons have been procured by the U.S. Air Force so far, and where the Navy has begun to procure the weapon within the past two years.29 The newest forthcoming “extreme range” variants of the JASSM ground-attack missile will feature ranges of up to 1,000 miles, making it one of the first air-launched cruise missiles that can rival the ranges of Tomahawk.30 The JASSM production line is also the most robust of any of the missiles described thus far, with annual production runs numbering in the hundreds as opposed to the other missiles that are only being procured by the dozens.31

August 12, 2015 – A Long Range Anti-Ship Missile (LRASM). (Photo via Wikimedia Commons)
Sept. 13, 2018 – An inert AGM-158A Joint Air-to-Surface Standoff Munition (JASSM) being used in a training exercise on a B-1B Lancer at Al Udeid Air Base, Qatar. (U.S. Air Force photo by Tech. Sgt. Ted Nichols/Released)

The two anti-ship weapons that hold the most promise, LRASM and Maritime Strike Tomahawk, are adaptations of existing munitions that have been produced in far greater numbers – JASSM and the land-attack Tomahawk. Upgrading these existing weapons with anti-ship capabilities and seekers may be a more rapid and cost-effective way to ramp up the anti-ship weapon inventory of the U.S. military compared to building new weapons wholesale. If the forthcoming extended-range variants of JASSM can feature anti-ship capabilities, then the U.S. military will open up a vast array of new options for the distribution and aggregation of firepower between naval and air forces.

Naval Strike Missile – Only Slightly Better Than Harpoon

The Naval Strike Missile (NSM) features a stealthy profile and an advanced seeker, but it brings only a marginal improvement over Harpoon. Similar to Harpoon, NSM has relatively short range at 115 miles and it is not compatible with launch cells.32 It is mainly being fielded by the Navy’s Littoral Combat Ships with only eight weapons per ship, and the Marines are procuring a land-based version. Its short range and launch cell incompatibility make this weapon poorly suited for massing fires from distributed forces. Low procurement rates put the current inventory at slightly more than 110 missiles, hardly enough to make the weapon widely fielded and available for mass fires.33 The main utility of both Harpoon and NSM in a major naval conflict may be relegated to engagements against smaller and more isolated combatants, perhaps in secondary theaters and areas peripheral to larger salvo exchanges.

A Naval Strike Missile in flight. (Photo via U.S. Department of Defense DOT&E)

A Brittle Spear

The ability to mass fires is fundamentally enabled by fielding a large number of long-range missiles across a wide variety of platforms. In terms of numbers, range, and variety, the U.S. military falls woefully short. The U.S. military cannot execute the tactic of distributed massed fires against warships today because it simply does not have the weapons to make it possible. Its current anti-ship missile firepower is extremely concentrated in aircraft carriers and tightly stretched thin everywhere else.

None of the newer U.S. anti-ship missiles will do much to improve the Navy’s ability to distribute and still combine fires, except for Tomahawk. LRASM can somewhat broaden the scope of physical distribution of launch platforms, but it is still a heavily concentrating weapon due to its narrow platform compatibility. LRASM will do little to alleviate the carrier’s heavy burden of shouldering most of the U.S. Navy’s anti-ship capability.

The Maritime Strike Tomahawk strongly stands out as the weapon with the most transformational promise, and it is absolutely fundamental to manifesting DMO. Finally the U.S. Navy will have anti-ship weaponry that is both long-range and compatible with its launch cells, and finally the U.S. military will have more viable anti-ship missile platforms than just carriers. This stands in sharp contrast to great power competitors, who have already broadly distributed anti-ship firepower across their surface fleets, bombers, land-based forces, and submarines.34

A central risk factor is considering what proportion of the overall volume of fire each type of weapon may contribute. Based on these key traits, more risk is incurred the less suitable a weapon is for mass fires. Weapons such as Harpoon or the Naval Strike Missile can certainly add a fraction of the contributing fires, but the more these weapons make up mass fires, the more risk the force will have to assume. 

Click to expand. A table of U.S. anti-ship weapons and key weapon traits for massing fires. (Author graphic)

Among the weapon traits analyzed, the depth of inventory stands out as an especially critical constraint in the capital-intensive nature of modern naval salvo combat. Even if highly capable missiles are being procured, inventory depth is the key variable that will prevent the U.S. military from having enough modern anti-ship missile firepower through at least the rest of this decade. Current stocks of modern U.S. anti-ship missiles are not remotely close to satisfying the demands of a type of combat that can require more than a hundred missiles to overwhelm the defenses of only a few destroyers, where a decade’s worth of weapons procurement can easily be discharged in a matter of hours.

As it currently stands, most of the inventory of the Navy’s anti-ship missiles except for Harpoon could be spent in a handful of salvo engagements. The appropriate amount to meet great power naval threats is not dozens or even hundreds of weapons, but thousands – a figure that grossly exceeds the inventory of all of the U.S. military’s latest generation of anti-ship weapons. And even if procurement rates have substantially grown the inventory 15 years from now, competitors could have grown their own arsenals over the same period, such as by building out deep inventories of anti-ship ballistic missiles and hypersonics that sustain a critical margin of overmatch. 

It is unclear how exactly the U.S. military has chosen to distribute or concentrate its small but growing inventory of modern anti-ship weapons. A major crisis could force the U.S. military to scrounge across the force in a rush to assemble enough weapons to field an adequate volume of fire. If these rare weapons are spread across the east- and west coast-based fleets, the Navy may be forced to engage in an elaborate act of transcontinental crossdecking to concentrate enough credible firepower in crisis response units.

These pervasive capability gaps have created a major window of opportunity for great power challengers to capitalize on the strategic liability posed by the weakness of the American naval arsenal. Until new weapons are fielded in large enough numbers, the U.S. military may be forced to endanger its single most expensive platform to close the gap – aircraft carriers.

Part 3 will focus on assembling massed fires and modern fleet tactics.

Dmitry Filipoff is CIMSEC’s Director of Online Content and Community Manager of its naval professional society, the Flotilla. He is the author of the How the Fleet Forgot to Fight” series and coauthor of Learning to Win: Using Operational Innovation to Regain the Advantage at Sea against China.” Contact him at Content@Cimsec.org.

References 

1. “Tomahawk Cruise Missile,” U.S. Navy Fact File, last updated September 27, 2021, https://www.navy.mil/Resources/Fact-Files/Display-FactFiles/Article/2169229/tomahawk-cruise-missile/.

2. “Flight Operations Support & Line Assistance: Getting to Grips with Fuel Economy,” Airbus, Issue 4, pg. 36-40, October 2004, https://www.smartcockpit.com/docs/Getting_To_Grips_With_Fuel_Economy.pdf.

3. For variable flight profiles of anti-ship missiles, see:

Dr. Carlo Kopp, “Killing the Vampire,” Defence Today, 2008. http://www.ausairpower.net/SP/DT-Vampires-2008.pdf.

Dr. Carlo Kopp, “Evolving Naval Anti-Ship Weapons Threat,” Defence Today, 2010. http://www.ausairpower.net/SP/DT-ASBM-Dec-2009.pdf.

For Tomahawk waypointing capability, see:

“Tomahawk,” Naval Air Systems Command, https://www.navair.navy.mil/product/Tomahawk.

4. Ross R. Hatch, Joseph L. Luber, and James H. Walk, “Fifty Years Of Strike Warfare Research At The Applied Physics Laboratory,” Johns Hopkins APL Technical Digest, Volume 13, Number I, pg. 117, 1992, https://www.jhuapl.edu/Content/techdigest/pdf/V13-N01/13-01-Hatch.pdf.

Kenneth P. Werrell, “The Evolution of the Cruise Missile,” Air University Press, pg. 150, September 1985, https://media.defense.gov/2017/Apr/07/2001728474/-1/-1/0/B_0006_WERRELL_EVOLUTION_CRUISE_MISSILE.PDF.

5. For Harpoon range, see:

Alan Cummings, “A Thousand Splendid Guns: Chinese ASCMs in Competitive Control,” U.S. Naval War College Review, Autumn 2016, https://digital-commons.usnwc.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?referer=https://cimsec.org/?p=37357&preview_id=37357&preview_nonce=33a19394d2&post_format=standard&_thumbnail_id=37675&preview=true&httpsredir=1&article=1143&context=nwc-review.

“RGM-84 Harpoon Block II,” Royal Australian Navy, https://www.navy.gov.au/weapon/rgm-84-harpoon-block-ii.

“Harpoon Next Generation Backgrounder,” Boeing, https://www.boeing.co.kr/resources/ko_KR/Seoul-International/2015/Harpoon-Next-Generation.pdf.

For less common Harpoon Block II+ variant, see:

Kyle Mizokami, “Navy’s Harpoon Missile Misses Target During Test Fire,” Popular Mechanics, July 21, 2016, https://www.popularmechanics.com/military/weapons/news/a21979/navy-shoots-new-anti-ship-missile-misses/

6. “Report to Congress on the Annual Long-Range Plan for Construction of Naval Vessels for Fiscal Year 2023,” Office of the Chief of Naval Operations Deputy Chief of Naval Operations for Warfighting Requirements and Capabilities – OPNAV N9, pg. 9, April 2022, https://media.defense.gov/2022/Apr/20/2002980535/-1/-1/0/PB23%20SHIPBUILDING%20PLAN%2018%20APR%202022%20FINAL.PDF.

7. J. Michael Dahm, “A Survey of Technologies and Capabilities on China’s Military Outposts in the South China Sea,” South China Sea Military Capability Series, Johns Hopkins Applied Physics Laboratory, pg. 6, March 2021, https://apps.dtic.mil/sti/pdfs/AD1128637.pdf.

8. “Weapons Acquisition: Precision Guided Munitions in Inventory, Production, and Development,” General Accounting Office, pg. 14, June 1995, https://www.govinfo.gov/content/pkg/GAOREPORTS-NSIAD-95-95/pdf/GAOREPORTS-NSIAD-95-95.pdf.

9. For capabilities and production history, see:

“Standard Missile 6 (SM-6): December 2021 Selected Acquisition Report (SAR),” Department of the Navy, December 31, 2021, https://www.esd.whs.mil/Portals/54/Documents/FOID/Reading%20Room/Selected_Acquisition_Reports/FY_2021_SARS/22-F-0762_SM6_SAR_2021.pdf.

For weapon range, see:

“Options for Fielding Ground-Launched Long-Range Missiles,” Congressional Budget Office, pg. 24, 2020, https://www.cbo.gov/publication/56143.

10. Sam LaGrone, “SECDEF Carter Confirms Navy Developing Supersonic Anti-Ship Missile for Cruisers, Destroyers,” USNI News, February 9, 2016, https://news.usni.org/2016/02/04/secdef-carter-confirms-navy-developing-supersonic-anti-ship-missile-for-cruisers-destroyers.

11. Mark A. Landis, “Overview of the Fire Control Loop Process for Aegis LEAP Intercept,” Johns Hopkins APL Technical Digest, Volume 22, Number 4, pg. 439-440, 2001, https://www.jhuapl.edu/Content/techdigest/pdf/V22-N04/22-04-Landis.pdf.

12. This calculation was arrived at by dividing the range of the SM-6 (150 miles) using the SM-6’s Mach 3.5 speed (2,685 miles), adding about 30 seconds to account for acceleration to max speed from launch, and a radar horizon profile of a radar mounted 30ft. high and the SM-6 coming into view at about 7,000 feet of altitude, which corresponds to the 150 mile range of the weapon. This comes to about four minutes of warning to the target warship. The subsonic missile time is calculated at 550mph breaking over a horizon that is 20 miles, giving the target warship slightly more than two minutes of warning.

13. “Options for Fielding Ground-Launched Long-Range Missiles,” Congressional Budget Office, pg. 25, 2020, https://www.cbo.gov/publication/56143.

14. “Military and Security Developments Involving the People’s Republic of China 2022,” U.S. Department of Defense, pg. 64-65, 2022, https://media.defense.gov/2022/Nov/29/2003122279/-1/-1/1/2022-MILITARY-AND-SECURITY-DEVELOPMENTS-INVOLVING-THE-PEOPLES-REPUBLIC-OF-CHINA.PDF.

15. “Maritime Security Dialogue: The Aegis Approach with Rear Admiral Tom Druggan,” Center for International and Strategic Studies, November 21, 2021, https://www.csis.org/analysis/maritime-security-dialogue-aegis-approach-rear-admiral-tom-druggan.

16. For total SM-6 inventory figure, see:

“Department of Defense Fiscal Year (FY) 2023 Budget Estimates,” Navy Justification Book Volume 1 of 1 Weapons Procurement, Navy, Page 1 of 13 P-1 Line #6, (PDF pg. 137), April 2022, https://www.secnav.navy.mil/fmc/fmb/Documents/23pres/WPN_Book.pdf.

For full-rate production, see:

“Standard Missile-6 (SM-6,” December 2019 Select Acquisition Report, Department of Defense, pg. 7, December 2019, https://www.esd.whs.mil/Portals/54/Documents/FOID/Reading%20Room/Selected_Acquisition_Reports/FY_2019_SARS/20-F-0568_DOC_72_SM-6_SAR_Dec_2019_Full.pdf.

“Raytheon’s SM-6 moves from low-rate to full-rate production Milestone clears path for larger quantities, lower costs,” Raytheon Technologies, May 6, 2015, https://raytheon.mediaroom.com/2015-05-06-Raytheons-SM-6-moves-from-low-rate-to-full-rate-production.

Rich Abott, “Raytheon Wins $1 Billion Contract For SM-6 Full Rate Production,” Defense Daily, December 26, 2019, https://www.defensedaily.com/raytheon-wins-1-billion-contract-sm-6-full-rate-production/navy-usmc/.

17. For 2011-2016 procurement rates, see:

“Department of Defense Fiscal Year (FY) 2017 President’s Budget Submission,” Justification Book Volume 1 of 1 Weapons Procurement, Navy, Page 7 of 12 P-1 Line #7 (PDF pg. 137), February 2016, https://www.secnav.navy.mil/fmc/fmb/Documents/17pres/WPN_Book.pdf.

For 2017-2021 procurement rates, see:

Department of Defense Fiscal Year (FY) 2022 Budget Estimates, Justification Book Volume 1 of 1 Weapons Procurement, Navy, Page 6 of 11 P-1 Line #6 (PDF pg. 123), https://www.secnav.navy.mil/fmc/fmb/Documents/22pres/WPN_Book.pdf.

18. For 1982 test date: E. H. Corirow, G. K. Smith, A. A. Barboux, “The Joint Cruise Missiles Project: An Acquisition History, Appendixes,” RAND, pg. 46, August 1982, https://www.rand.org/pubs/notes/N1989.html.

19. “Tomahawk Cruise Missile,” U.S. Navy Fact File, last updated September 27, 2021, https://www.navy.mil/Resources/Fact-Files/Display-FactFiles/Article/2169229/tomahawk-cruise-missile/.

20. “Navy awards first ever multi-service contract for Tomahawk Weapons System,” Naval Air Systems Command, May 24, 2022, https://www.navair.navy.mil/news/Navy-awards-first-ever-multi-service-contract-Tomahawk-Weapons-System/Tue-05242022-1347.

21. For 2024 MST IOC, see:

Statement of Frederick J. Stefany, Principal Civilian Deputy, Assistant Secretary of the Navy (Research, Development and Acquisition), Performing the Duties of the Assistant Secretary of the Navy (Research, Development and Acquisition) and Vice Admiral Scott Conn, Deputy Chief of Naval Operations, Warfighting Requirements and Capabilities (OPNAV N9) and Lieutenant General Karsten S. Heckl, Deputy Commandant, Combat Development and Integration, Commanding General, Marine Corps Combat Development Command, before the Subcommittee on Seapower of the Senate Armed Services Committee on Department of the Navy Fiscal Year 2023 Budget Request for Seapower, PDF pages 31-32, April 26, 2022, https://www.armed-services.senate.gov/imo/media/doc/HS_26APR22_RDA_SASC_S_DON_PB23_Shipbuilding_Aviation_Ground_FINAL%20(2).PDF.

For MST low-rate initial production, see:

Department of Defense Fiscal Year (FY) 2022 Budget Estimates, Justification Book Volume 1 of 1 Weapons Procurement, Navy, Page 11 of 11 P-1 Line #18 (PDF pg. 269), https://www.secnav.navy.mil/fmc/fmb/Documents/22pres/WPN_Book.pdf.

For current MST production quantity, see:

“Department of Defense Fiscal Year (FY) 2023 Budget Estimates,” Navy Justification Book Volume 1 of 1 Weapons Procurement, Navy, Page 3 of 14 P-1 Line #18, (PDF pg. 283), April 2022, https://www.secnav.navy.mil/fmc/fmb/Documents/23pres/WPN_Book.pdf.

22. For plans to recertify all Block IV Tomahawks into Block V variants, see:

“Navy completes first delivery of Block V Tomahawk Missile,” Naval Air Systems Command, March 25, 2021, https://www.navair.navy.mil/news/Navy-completes-first-delivery-Block-V-Tomahawk-Missile/Wed-03242021-1700.

For possibility of 300 Block V recertification kits per year, see:

Department of Defense Fiscal Year (FY) 2022 Budget Estimates, Justification Book Volume 1 of 1 Weapons Procurement, Navy, Page 3 of 11 P-1 Line #18 (PDF pg. 261), https://www.secnav.navy.mil/fmc/fmb/Documents/22pres/WPN_Book.pdf.

23. For different Block V subvariants, see:

“Tomahawk Cruise Missile,” Raytheon Missiles and Defense, https://www.raytheonmissilesanddefense.com/what-we-do/naval-warfare/advanced-strike-weapons/tomahawk-cruise-missile.

24. The LRASM range of 350 miles is a rough estimate deduced from the JASSM missile it is derived from, see:

“Options for Fielding Ground-Launched Long-Range Missiles,” Congressional Budget Office, pg. 2, 2020, https://www.cbo.gov/publication/56143.

25. For Navy description of LRASM, see:

“Department of Defense Fiscal Year (FY) 2023 Budget Estimates,” Navy Justification Book Volume 1 of 1 Weapons Procurement, Navy, Page 1 of 10 P-1 Line #16, (PDF pg. 261), April 2022, https://www.secnav.navy.mil/fmc/fmb/Documents/23pres/WPN_Book.pdf.

For industry testing of launch cell compatible LRASM, see:

Sam LaGrone, “LRASM Scores in Navy Test Ship Launch,” USNI News, July 20, 2016, https://news.usni.org/2016/07/20/lrasm-scores-ship-launch-test.

26. “Lockheed Martin And Thales Australia Finalize Teaming Agreement To Develop Sovereign Weapons Manufacturing Capabilities In Australia,” Lockheed Martin, April 21, 2021, https://news.lockheedmartin.com/lockheed-martin-and-thales-australia-finalize-teaming-agreement.

27. “Department of Defense Fiscal Year (FY) 2023 Budget Estimates,” Navy Justification Book Volume 1 of 1 Weapons Procurement, Navy, Page 7 of 10 P-1 Line #16, (PDF pg. 267), April 2022, https://www.secnav.navy.mil/fmc/fmb/Documents/23pres/WPN_Book.pdf.

28. “Department of Defense Fiscal Year (FY) 2023 Budget Estimates,” Navy Justification Book Volume 1 of 1 Weapons Procurement, Navy, Page 1 of 10 P-1 Line #16, (PDF pg. 261), April 2022, https://www.secnav.navy.mil/fmc/fmb/Documents/23pres/WPN_Book.pdf.

29. For JASSM and LRASM commonality, see:

Sandra I. Irin, “Pentagon Accelerates Acquisitions of Ship-Killing Missiles,” National Defense Magazine, December 15, 2016, https://www.nationaldefensemagazine.org/articles/2016/12/15/pentagon-accelerates-acquisitions-of-ship-killing-missiles.

For JASSM inventory: “Department of Defense Fiscal Year (FY) 2023 Budget Estimates,” Air Force Justification Book Volume 1 of 1 Missile Procurement, Air Force, Page 4 of 12 P-1 Line #7 (PDF pg. 68), April 2022, https://www.saffm.hq.af.mil/Portals/84/documents/FY23/PROCUREMENT_/FY23%20Air%20Force%20Missile%20Procurement.pdf?ver=QeRLpOSY7vcLmsKbr3C-Qw%3D%3D.

For U.S. Navy first procurement batch of JASSM, see:

Richard R. Burgess, “Navy Plans to Arm F/A-18E/F, F-35C with Air Force’s JASSM-ER Cruise Missile,” Seapower Magazine, June 15, 2021, https://seapowermagazine.org/navy-plans-to-arm-f-a-18e-f-f-35c-with-air-forces-jassm-er-cruise-missile/

30. Brian A. Everstine, “USAF to Start Buying ‘Extreme Range’ JASSMs in 2021, Air & Space Forces Magazine, February 14, 2020, https://www.airandspaceforces.com/usaf-to-start-buying-extreme-range-jassms-in-2021/.

31. “Department of Defense Fiscal Year (FY) 2023 Budget Estimates,” Air Force Justification Book Volume 1 of 1 Missile Procurement, Air Force, Page 5 of 12 P-1 Line #7, (PDF pg. 69), April 2022, https://www.saffm.hq.af.mil/Portals/84/documents/FY23/PROCUREMENT_/FY23%20Air%20Force%20Missile%20Procurement.pdf?ver=QeRLpOSY7vcLmsKbr3C-Qw%3D%3D.

32. “NSM™ Naval Strike Missile (NSM),” Kongsberg, https://www.kongsberg.com/kda/what-we-do/defence-and-security/missile-systems/nsm-naval-strike-missile-nsm/.

33. “Department of Defense Fiscal Year (FY) 2023 Budget Estimates,” Navy Justification Book Volume 1 of 1 Weapons Procurement, Navy, Page 1 of 10 P-1 Line #17, (PDF pg. 271), April 2022, https://www.secnav.navy.mil/fmc/fmb/Documents/23pres/WPN_Book.pdf.

34. For Chinese anti-ship weapons and force structure, see:

Dr. Sam Goldsmith, “VAMPIRE VAMPIRE VAMPIRE The PLA’s anti-ship cruise missile threat to Australian and allied naval operations,” Australian Strategic Policy Institute, April 2022, https://ad-aspi.s3.ap-southeast-2.amazonaws.com/2022-04/Vampire%20Vampire%20Vampire_0.pdf?VersionId=tHAbNzJSXJHskd9VppGNRcTFC4hW7UqD.

For Russian anti-ship weapons and force structure, see:

“The Russian Navy: A Historic Transition,” Office of Naval Intelligence, December 2015, https://www.oni.navy.mil/Portals/12/Intel%20agencies/russia/Russia%202015screen.pdf?ver=2015-12-14-082028-313.

Featured Image: PHILIPPINE SEA (Oct. 1, 2019) Independence-variant littoral combat ship USS Gabrielle Giffords (LCS 10) launches a Naval Strike Missile (NSM) during exercise Pacific Griffin. (U.S. Navy Photo by Mass Communication Specialist 3rd Class Josiah J. Kunkle)

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

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

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

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

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

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

Identifying the Driving Forces

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

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

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

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

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

Critical Uncertainties

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

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

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

Plausible Scenarios

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

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

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

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

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

Implications and Paths

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

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

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

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

Conclusion

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

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

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

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

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

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

References

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

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

From Eyes Above: Information Architectures for Striking Maritime Targets

By Richard Mosier

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

Maritime Targeting Factors

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

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

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

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

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

Maritime Strike Targeting Alternatives 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Way Ahead

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

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

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

References

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

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

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

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

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

Kamikazes: The Legacy of Soviet Naval Aviation, Pt. 2

The following selections are derived from an article originally published in the Naval War College Review under the title, “Kamikazes: The Soviet Legacy.” Read it in its original form here.

Read Part One here.

By Maksim Y. Tokarev

As it was, the crews of the field-parked Backfires, in the best aviation tradition, had to accept the primary flight data during briefings in the regiments’ ready rooms. Of course, they had the preliminary plans and knew roughly the location of the incoming air-sea battle and the abilities of the enemy—the task force’s air defenses. In fact, the sorties were carefully planned, going in. But planning was very general for the way out. The following conversation in the ready room of the MRA ’s 183rd Air Regiment, Pacific Fleet NAF, which occurred in the mid-1980s, shows this very honestly. A young second lieutenant, a Backfire WSO fresh from the air college, asked the senior navigator of the regiment, an old major: “Sir, tell me why we have a detailed flight plan to the target over the vast ocean, but only a rough dot-and-dash line across Hokkaido Island on way back?” “Son,” answered the major calmly, “if your crew manages to get the plane back out of the sky over the carrier by any means, on half a wing broken by a Phoenix and a screaming prayer, no matter whether it’s somewhere over Hokkaido or directly through the moon, it’ll be the greatest possible thing in your entire life!” There may have been silent laughter from the shade of a kamikaze in the corner of the room at that moment.

The home fields of MRA units were usually no more than 300 kilometers from the nearest shoreline (usually much less). Each air regiment had at least two airstrips, each no less than 2,000 meters long, preferably concrete ones, and the Engineering Airfield Service could support three fully loaded sorties of the entire regiment in 36 hours. The efforts of shore maintenance were important, as all the missiles, routinely stored in ordnance installations, had to be quickly fueled and prepared for attachment to the planes before takeoff.

The takeoff of the regiment usually took about half an hour. While in the air, the planes established the cruise formation, maintaining strict radio silence. Each crew had the targeting data that had been available at the moment of takeoff and kept the receivers of the targeting apparatus ready to get detailed targeting, either from the air reconnaissance by voice radio or from surface ships or submarines. The latter targeting came by high-frequency (HF) radio, a channel known as KTS Chayka (the Seagull short-message targeting communication system) that was usually filled with targeting data from the MRSC Uspekh (the Success maritime reconnaissance targeting system), built around the efforts of Tu-95RC reconnaissance planes. The Legenda (Legend) satellite targeting system receiver was turned on also, though not all planes had this device. The Backfire’s own ECM equipment and radar-warning receivers had to be in service too. With two to four targeting channels on each plane, none of them radiating on electromagnetic wave bands, the crowd of the Backfires ran through the dark skies to the carrier task force.

Where Are Those Mad Russians?

Generally, detailed data concerning the U.S. air defense organization were not available to Soviet naval planners. What they knew was that F-4, and later F-14 planes could be directed from three kinds of control points: the Carrier Air Traffic Control Center on the carrier itself, an E-2 aloft, or the Air Defense Combat Center of one of the Aegis cruisers in formation. Eavesdropping on the fighter-direction VHF and ultra high-frequency radio circuits by reconnaissance vessels and planes gave Soviet analysts in 1973–74 roughly the same results as were subsequently noted by late Vice Admiral Arthur Cebrowski: “Exercise data indicated that sometimes a squadron of F-14s operating without a central air controller was more effective in intercepting and destroying attackers than what the algorithms said centralized control could provide.”

SNAF planners found that interceptor crews were quite dependent on the opinions of air controllers or FDOs, even in essence psychologically subordinate to them. So the task of the attackers could be boiled down to finding a way to fool those officers—either to overload their sensors or, to some degree, relax their sense of danger by posing what were to their minds easily recognizable decoys, which were in reality full, combat-ready strikes. By doing so the planners expected to slow the reactions of the whole air defense system, directly producing the “golden time” needed to launch the missiles. Contrary to widespread opinion, no considerable belief was placed in the ability of launched missiles to resist ECM efforts, but the solid and partially armored airframe of the Kh-22 could sustain a significant number of the 20mm shells of Close-In Weapon System (CIWS) guns. (Given the even more rigid airframe of the submarine-launched missiles of the Granit family —what NATO called the SS-N-19 Shipwreck—it would have been much better for the U.S. Navy to use a CIWS of at least 30mm caliber.)

1984 – A U.S. Navy Grumman F-14A Tomcat of Fighter Squadron VF-1 “Wolfpack” escorting two Soviet Tupolev Tu-16 aircraft (NATO reporting “Badger”). (Photo via Wikimedia Commons)

Things could become even worse for the carriers. In some plans, a whole VVS fighter air regiment of Su-15TM long-range interceptors would have escorted the MRA division, so that the F-14s over the task force might have been overwhelmed and crowded out by similar Soviet birds. Though the main targets for the Sukhois, which as pure interceptors were barely capable of dogfighting, were the E-2 Hawkeyes, it is possible that some F-14s could have become targets for their long-range air-to-air missiles with active radar seeker (such as R-33, similar to the AIM-54). Sure enough, no Sukhoi crews had been expected to return, mainly because of their relatively limited range and the fact that they, mostly unfamiliar with long flights over the high seas, depended on the bomber crews’ navigation skills.

Long before reaching the target, at a “split” position approximately 500 kilometers from the carrier task force, and if the target’s current position had been somehow roughly confirmed, the air division’s two regimental formations would divide into two or three parts each. The WSO of each plane adopted his own battle course and altitude and a flight plan for each of his missiles. As we have seen, the early versions of Kh-22 had to acquire the target while on the plane’s hardpoints, making this a terrible job very close to that of a World War II kamikaze, because between initial targeting of the carrier by the plane’s radar and missile launch the Backfire itself was no more than a supersonic target for AIM-54s.

The more Phoenixes that could be carried by a single interceptor, the more Backfires that could be smashed from the sky prior to the launch of their Kh-22s. So if the Backfires were the only real danger to U.S. carriers up to the fall of the USSR , it would have been much better for the U.S. Navy to use the F-111B [carrier-based interceptor], a realization of the TFX (Tactical Fighter Experimental) concept, than the F-14. A Tomcat could evidently carry the same six Phoenixes as an F-111B, but there were the data that the “Turkey” could not bring all six back to the carrier, owing to landing-weight limitations. Imagine a fully loaded Tomcat with six AIM-54s reaching its “bingo point” (limit of fuel endurance) while on barrier CAP station, with air refueling unavailable. The plane has to land on the carrier, and two of its six missiles have to be jettisoned. Given the alternating sorts of approaches by Backfire waves, reducing the overall number of long-range missiles by dropping them into the sea to land F-14s safely seems silly. Admiral Thomas Connolly’s claims in the 1960s that killed the F-111B in favor of the F-14 (“There isn’t enough power in all Christendom to make that airplane what we want!”) could quite possibly have cost the U.S. Navy a pair of carriers sunk.

A General Dynamics F-111B (BuNo 151970) in flight over Long Island, New York (USA), in 1965. (Photo via Wikimedia Commons)

The transition of the U.S. Navy from the F-14 to the F/A-18 made the anti-Backfire matter worse. Yes, the Hornet, at least the “legacy” (early) Hornet, is very pleasant to fly and easy to maintain, but from the point of view of range and payload it is a far cry from the F-111B. How could it be otherwise for a jet fighter that grew directly from the lightweight F-5? Flying and maintaining naval airplanes are not always just for fun; sometimes it takes long hours of hard work to achieve good results, and it had always been at least to some degree harder for naval flyers than for their shore-based air force brethren doing the same thing. Enjoying the Hornet’s flying qualities at the expense of the Phoenix’s long-range kill abilities is not a good tradeoff. Also, the Hornet (strike fighter) community evidently has generally replaced its old fighter ethos with something similar to the “light attack,” “earthmover” philosophy of the Vietnam-era A-4 (and later A-7) “day attack” squadrons; all the wars and battle operations since 1990 seem to prove it. It is really good for the present situation that the ethos of F/A-18 strike fighter pilots is not the self-confident bravado of the F-14 crews but comes out of more realistic views. Yet for the defense of carrier task forces, it was not clever to abandon the fast, heavy interceptor, able to launch long-range air-to-air missiles—at least to abandon it completely.

To fool the FDOs, the incoming Backfires had to be able to saturate the air with chaff. Moreover, knowing the position of the carrier task force is not the same as knowing the position of the carrier itself. There were at least two cases when in the center of the formation there was, instead of the carrier, a large fleet oiler or replenishment vessel with an enhanced radar signature (making it look as large on the Backfires’ radar screens as a carrier) and a radiating tactical air navigation system. The carrier itself, contrary to routine procedures, was steaming completely alone, not even trailing the formation.

To know for sure the carrier’s position, it was desirable to observe it visually. To do that, a special recce-attack group (razvedyvatel’no-udarnaya gruppa, RUG) could be detached from the MRA division formation. The RUG consisted of a pair of the Tu-16R reconnaissance Badgers and a squadron of Tu-22M Backfires. The former flew ahead of the latter and extremely low (not higher than 200 meters, for as long as 300–350 kilometers) to penetrate the radar screen field of the carrier task force, while the latter were as high as possible, launching several missiles from maximum range, even without proper targeting, just to catch the attention of AEW crews and barrier CAP fighters. Meanwhile, those two reconnaissance Badgers, presumably undetected, made the dash into the center of the task force formation and found the carrier visually, their only task to send its exact position to the entire division by radio. Of course, nobody in those Badgers’ crews (six or seven officers and men per plane) counted on returning; it was 100 percent a suicide job.

After the RUG sent the position of the carrier and was shattered to debris, the main attack group (UG, udarnaya gruppa) launched the main missile salvo. The UG consisted of a demonstration group, an ECM group armed with anti-radar missiles of the K-11 model, two to three strike groups, and a post-strike reconnaissance group. Different groups approached from different directions and at different altitudes, but the main salvo had to be made simultaneously by all of the strike groups’ planes. The prescribed time slot for the entire salvo was just one minute for best results, no more than two minutes for satisfactory ones. If the timing became wider in an exercise, the entire main attack was considered unsuccessful.

 An aerial view of the U.S. Navy Battle Group Echo underway in formation in the northern Arabian Sea on 1 November 1987. (Photo via U.S. National Archives)

Moreover, in plans, three to five planes in each regimental strike had to carry missiles with nuclear warheads. It was calculated that up to twelve hits by missiles with regular warheads would be needed to sink a carrier; by contrast, a single nuclear-armed missile hit could produce the same result. In any case, almost all Soviet anti-carrier submarine assets had nuclear-armed anti-carrier missiles and torpedoes on board for routine patrols.

Having launched their missiles, it was up to the crews, as has been noted above, to find their way back. Because of the possibility of heavy battle damage, it was reasonable to consider the use of intermediate airfields and strips for emergency or crash landings, mainly on the distant islands, even inhabited ones, in the Soviet or Warsaw Pact exclusive economic zones. The concept of using the Arctic ice fields for this purpose was adopted, by not only the MRA but the VVS (interceptors of the Su-15, Tu-128, and MiG-25/31 varieties) too. Though the concept of maintaining such temporary icing strips had been accepted, with the thought that planes could be refueled, rearmed, and even moderately repaired in such a setting, it was not a big feature of war plans. The VVS as a whole was eager to use captured airfields, particularly ones in northern Norway, but the MRA paid little attention to this possibility, because the complexity of aerodrome maintenance of its large planes, with their intricate weapons and systems, was considered unrealistic at hostile bases, which would quite possibly be severely damaged before or during their capture.

All in all, the expected loss rate was 50 percent of a full strike—meaning that the equivalent of an entire MRA air regiment could be lost in action to a carrier task force’s air defenses, independent of the strike’s outcome.

An Umi Yukaba for the Surface and Submarine Communities

Although the first massive missile strikes on carrier task forces had to be performed by SNAF/DA forces, there were at least two other kinds of missile carriers in the Soviet Navy. The first were guided-missile ships, mostly in the form of cruisers (CGs), those of Project 58 (the NATO Kynda class), Project 1144 (Kirov class), and Project 1164 (Slava class). Moreover, all the “aircraft-carrying cruisers” of Project 1143 (the Kiev class, generally thought of as aircraft carriers in the West) had the same anti-ship cruise missiles as the CGs of Project 1164. Also, the destroyers of Project 956 (Sovremenny class) could be used in this role, as well as all the ships (the NATO Kresta and Kara classes) armed with ASW missiles of the Type 85R/RU/RUS (Rastrub/Metel, or Socket/Snowstorm) family, which could be used in an anti-ship mode. The main form of employment of guided missile ships was the task force (operativnoye soedinenie, in Russian), as well as the above-noted direct-tracking ship or small tactical groups of ships with the same job (KNS or GKNS, respectively, in Russian).

The other anti-carrier missile carriers were nuclear-powered guided-missile submarines (SSGNs), in a vast number of projects and types, using either surface or submerged launch. The most deadly of these were the Project 949A boats (NATO Oscar IIs), with P-700 Granit missiles. (The SSGN Kursk, recently lost to uncertain causes, was one of them.) The operational organization for the submarine forces performing the anti-carrier mission was the PAD (protivo-avianosnaya divisiya, anticarrier division), which included the SSGNs, two for each target carrier, and nuclear-powered attack submarines for support. In sum, up to fifteen nuclear submarines would deploy into the deep oceans to attack carrier task forces. One PAD was ready to be formed from the submarine units of the Northern Fleet, and one, similarly, was ready to assemble in the Pacific Fleet.

1986 – An elevated port side view of the forward section of a Soviet Oscar-class nuclear-powered attack submarine. (Photo via U.S. National Archives)

A detailed description of the tactics and technologies of all those various assets is beyond the aim of this article, but one needs an idea of how it worked as a whole. The core of national anti-carrier doctrine was cooperative usage of all those reconnaissance and launch platforms. While they understood this fact, the staffs of the Soviet Navy had no definite order, manual, or handbook for planning anti-carrier actions except the “Tactical Guidance for Task Forces” (known as TR OS-79), issued in 1979 and devoted mainly to operational questions of surface actions, until 1993, when “Tactical Guidance for Joint Multitype Forces” entered staff service. The latter document was the first and ultimate guidance for the combined efforts of the MRA , surface task forces, and submerged PADs, stating as the overall goal the sinking of the designated target carriers at sea with a probability of 85 percent.

It is no secret that the officers of the surface community who served on the guided-missile ships counted on surviving a battle against a U.S. Navy carrier air wing for twenty or thirty minutes and no more. In reality, the abilities of the surface-to-air missiles (SAMs) installed on the ships were far less impressive than the fear they drew from U.S. experts. For example, the bow launcher of the Storm SAM on the Kresta– and Kara-class ASW destroyers shared a fire-control system with the Metel ASW missile. It would be quite possible for U.S. aircraft to drop a false sound target (imitating a submarine) ahead of the Soviet formation to be sure that the bow fire-control radars would be busy with the guidance of ASW missiles for a while. The bow SAM launchers of the destroyers of these classes would be useless all this time, allowing air attacks from ahead. Even “iron” bombs could mark the targets.

SSGNs were evidently considered in the West to be the safest asset of the Soviet Navy during an attack, but it was not the case. The problem was hiding in the radio communications required: two hours prior to the launch, all the submarines of the PAD were forced to hold periscope depth and lift their high frequency-radio and satellite communication antennas up into the air, just to get the detailed targeting data from reconnaissance assets directly (not via the staffs ashore or afloat); targeting via low- or very-low-frequency cable antennas took too much time and necessarily involved shore transmitting installations, which could be destroyed at any moment. There was little attention paid to buoy communication systems (because of the considerable time under Arctic ice usual for Soviet submarines). Thus the telescoping antennas in a row with the periscopes at the top of the conning tower were the submarine’s only communication means with the proper radio bandwidth. Having all ten or fifteen boats in a PAD at shallow depth long before the salvo was not the best way to keep them secure. Also, the salvo itself had to be carried out in close coordination with the surface fleet and MRA divisions.

However, the main problem was not the intricacy of coordination but targeting —that is, how to find the carrier task forces at sea and to maintain a solid, constant track of their current positions. Despite the existence of air reconnaissance systems such as Uspekh, satellite systems like Legenda, and other forms of intelligence and observation, the most reliable source of targeting of carriers at sea was the direct-tracking ship. Indeed, if you see a carrier in plain sight, the only problem to solve is how to radio reliably the reports and targeting data against the U.S. electronic countermeasures. Ironically, since the time lag of Soviet military communication systems compared to the NATO ones is quite clear, the old Morse wireless telegraph used by the Soviet ships was the long-established way to solve that problem. With properly trained operators, Morse keying is the only method able to resist active jamming in the HF band. For example, the Soviet diesel-electric, Whiskey-class submarine S-363, aground in the vicinity of the Swedish naval base at Karlskrona in 1981, managed to communicate with its staff solely by Morse, despite a Swedish ECM station in the line of sight. All the other radio channels were effectively jammed and suppressed. While obsolete, strictly speaking, and very limited in information flow, Morse wireless communication was long the most serviceable for the Soviet Navy, owing to its simplicity and reliability.

But the direct tracker was definitely no more than another kind of kamikaze. It was extremely clear that if a war started, these ships would be sent to the bottom immediately. Given that, the commanding officer of each had orders to behave like a rat caught in a corner: at the moment of war declaration or when specifically ordered, after sending the carrier’s position by radio, he would shell the carrier’s flight deck with gunfire, just to break up the takeoff of prepared strikes, fresh CAP patrols, or anything else. Being usually within the arming zone of his own anti-ship missiles and having no time to prepare a proper torpedo salvo, the “D-tracker’s” captain had to consider his ship’s guns and rocket-propelled depth charges to be the best possible ways to interfere with flight deck activity. He could even ram the carrier, and some trained their ship’s companies to do so; the image of a “near miss,” of the bow of a Soviet destroyer passing just clear of their own ship’s quarter is deeply impressed in the memory of some people who served on board U.S. aircraft carriers in those years.

Lieutenant Commander Tokarev joined the Soviet Navy in 1988, graduating from the Kaliningrad Naval College as a communications officer. In 1994 he transferred to the Russian Coast Guard. His last active-duty service was on the staff of the 4th Coast Guard Division, in the Baltic Sea. He was qualified as (in U.S. equivalents) a Surface Warfare Officer/Cutterman and a Naval Information Warfare/Cryptologic Security Officer. After retirement in 1998 he established several logistics companies, working in the transport and logistics areas in both Europe and the Commonwealth of Independent States.

Featured Image: March 3, 1986 – A left underside view of a Soviet Tu-22 Backfire aircraft in flight. (Photo via U.S. National Archives)