Category Archives: Force Structure

Lost in the Small Surface Combatant Wilderness

By Kevin Eyer

Between January 13 and 15, the 38th Annual Surface Navy Symposium convened in Crystal City, Virginia, offering a detailed look at the state of the surface fleet. Senior leaders—from the Secretary of the Navy to the Chief of Naval Operations and the Commander of Fleet Forces Command—delivered formal presentations outlining priorities and challenges.

On the final morning, a closed session was held exclusively for active-duty and retired captains and commanders. The premise was clear: a room limited to officers who had commanded at sea would allow for a more candid, less scripted discussion. Four senior captains from the Office of the Chief of Naval Operations delivered brief, upbeat remarks before opening the floor.

Soon, a retired captain stepped to the microphone and asked:

“What is the difference between the Littoral Combat Ship and the ‘Future Frigate’ now under development?”

It was, upon consideration, a troubling question. The Littoral Combat Ship program has become, in many respects, a relic—originally planned for 55 ships, later reduced to 35, and widely viewed as misaligned with the Navy’s operational needs. The program endures largely through institutional momentum and the absence of ready alternatives.

By contrast, the Future Frigate—the FF(X) —is presented as the way ahead. A central element of President Trump’s “Golden Fleet” modernization initiative announced in December 2025, it is intended to contribute to a faster, more capable Navy and sustain maritime superiority. The frigate represents an effort to correct decades of uneven performance in designing smaller surface combatants and to expand a segment of the fleet long criticized as both undersized and underpowered—the Small Surface Combatant (SSC) element.

The relationship between the two ship classes had, in fact, been addressed earlier in the symposium by Rear Admiral Derek Trinque, Director of the Surface Warfare Division in the Office of the Chief of Naval Operations. He distinguished the Littoral Combat Ship’s mission-module concept from the frigate’s proposed approach. One of the Littoral Combat Ship’s program difficulties, he explained, was attempting to integrate systems that did not yet exist with a hull still under construction—an ambitious concept that proved harder in practice than in theory. The Future Frigate, by contrast, will incorporate existing systems packaged with defined interfaces to the ship’s combat system, allowing more reliable and rapid changes in capability.

In essence, according to Rear Admiral Trinque, the Future Frigate—like the Littoral Combat Ship—will rely to some extent on modular mission packages. The difference lies in execution: a more disciplined, technically mature integration model.

Yet the retired captain’s question reached beyond a simply question of architectural integration. The deeper issues he posed with his question remained unaddressed: What missions are assigned—or will ultimately be assigned to the Littoral Combat Ship? Will the Future Frigate assume those same roles? What is the envisioned division of labor between these two small surface combatants? What, if any, differences exist in their limitations—and how should those limits shape the missions they are given?

Perhaps most importantly, what can these ships do or not do?

The Future Frigate and the Golden Fleet

On 19 December 2025, Secretary of the Navy John C. Phelan stated: “To deliver at speed and scale, I’ve directed the acquisition of a new frigate class based on HII’s Legend-Class National Security Cutter design: a proven, American-built ship that has been protecting US interests at home and abroad. President Trump and the Secretary of Defense have signed off on this as part of the Golden Fleet. Our goal is clear: launch the first hull in the water in 2028. To expand capacity and production across our maritime industrial base, we will acquire these ships using a lead yard and competitive follow-on strategy for multi-yard construction. Shipyards will be measured against one outcome: delivering combat power to the Fleet as fast as possible.”

As part of the President’s recently advertised “Golden Fleet,” the Navy plans a “high/low” mix of ships, featuring several new classes in addition to combatant classes already in the fleet. On the “high” end, the Navy intends to maintain a Large Surface inventory, including a new guided missile battleship class, supported by both existing and planned Arleigh Burke-class guided missile destroyers, which have been and continue to be built in multiple “Flights.” According to Issues for Congress, the goal is to maintain approximately 87 large combatants. These large combatants are intended for assignment to complex mission sets, potentially involving multiple warfare areas in the most heavily contested waters. For example, an Arleigh Burke-class guided missile destroyer operating in the Red Sea is fully capable of simultaneously escorting merchant ships, providing on-call Tomahawk land-strike capability, and offering the most-sophisticated air defense umbrella for an entire region of the battlespace.

On the “low” end of the spectrum are Small Surface Combatants which include the Navy’s frigates, like the Future Frigate, and the Littoral Combat Ships, as well as mine warfare ships. With the retirement of the Avenger-class there are no more dedicated mine warfare ships in the Navy These ships are smaller, less expensive, manned by smaller crews, and less capable than Large Surface Combatants. While they can operate in conjunction with Large Surface Combatants and other Navy vessels, particularly in higher-threat environments, they are also designed to operate independently in lower-threat settings.

As specified at the Symposium, missions assigned to Small Surface Combatants – including both the LCS and the FF(X) – may include Anti-Surface Warfare (ASuW), Anti-Submarine Warfare (ASW) and Mine Countermeasure Operations (MCM). According to the briefings, these ships will enable a significant expansion of the Navy’s worldwide footprint while increasing fleet capacity in areas of active combat operations. To fill the ranks of these small combatants, the Navy plans to rely on a combination of existing Littoral Combat Ships and the now-planned Future Frigate class.

So, how many Small Surface Combatants does the Navy plan on fielding? 

The Navy’s Fiscal Year 2025 30-year shipbuilding plan calls for a future force of 381 manned battle force ships, including 73 Small Surface Combatants. Of these, 15 are Littoral Combat Ships capable of conducting mine warfare operations, while 58 are designated as guided missile frigates — meaning frigates built to either the original or a modified Flight II design. (A Flight II FFG was, until recently cancelled, the Constellation-class). Under its 2025 budget submission, the Navy proposed maintaining a force of 25 Littoral Combat Ships instead of 15. This adjustment would imply a total of 48 frigates, rather than 58.

However, the Navy has reportedly prepared a new ship force-level objective which will succeed the existing plan. This new objective is predicated upon the requirements outlined for the “Golden Fleet.” As of late December 2025, the force composition of this new objective had not been announced. Still, considering that multiple speakers at the Symposium firmly indicated the Navy intends to maintain 35 Littoral Combat Ships while building perhaps as many as 50 Future Frigates, one might sensibly suppose that the small and large combat fleets will be roughly equal in size – somewhere around 85 hulls for each.

Unclear Missions

It is curious that the Symposium suggested that the ships of the SSC classes may…may…contribute to ASuW, ASW, and MCM. While that seems worthy, RADM Trinque also outlined another, entirely more nebulous, role for the Future Frigate: That ship, he said, is explicitly intended to help alleviate the workload on Arleigh Burke-class destroyers. He framed this need within the perspective of Chief of Naval Operations, Admiral Daryl Caudle, as outlined in hisFighting Instructions.”

Published after the Symposium, on February 9, the Fighting Instructions introduce the “Hedge Strategy,” which calls for a balanced, scalable force mix rather than reliance solely on expensive, high-end formations like carrier strike groups. The strategy emphasizes tailored forces—combinations of ships, aircraft, unmanned systems, and other capabilities—that can be adapted for specific missions and crises, instead of a brittle model optimized only for high-end conflict but with capabilities underutilized in day-to-day operations.

Problematically, the Fighting Instructions are more strategic philosophy than technical manual. They do not prescribe specific weapons, sensors, or deployments, but rather articulate principles for how the fleet should organize, operate, and fight in a complex global environment. While the guidance supports a shift away from using Arleigh Burke-class destroyers as the default solution for every mission – favoring distributed, purpose-built packages – the Littoral Combat Ship and the Future Frigate are not mentioned as relieving the overburdened Burkes.

This raises a key question: where is the Future Frigate’s role—and particularly with regard to relieving the burden on Large Surface Combatants—explicitly defined? Where is this requirement laid down?

The answer is that it is not, which begs the question, what is the real purpose of the ship? Is it ASuW, ASW, or MCM? Is it there to relieve the Arleigh Burke-class? Of what? Or is it something else, as of yet unspecified?

Ambition Beyond Need?

The Navy appears to be aiming for roughly 85 small surface combatants. What is the origin of this number? More important, is that number the correct one to ease pressure on the Arleigh Burkes, and how will that relief be operationalized?

Determining deployable force size requires the application of the Navy’s standard availability model: at any given time, roughly one-third of ships are deployed, one-third are in training and certification cycles, and one-third are in maintenance or modernization

Applied to an 85-ship Small Surface Combatant fleet, that model would yield approximately 28 ships deployed at any given time. That is a striking figure. Some estimates put the total number of active destroyers in the future at 94. 

Ninety-four destroyers and 85 frigates would create an essentially one-for-one situation. Granted: such comparisons are inherently imprecise; however, the implication is notable and suggest a strategic ambition that goes well beyond merely alleviating pressure on the destroyer force.

And, while small combatants may be able to execute ASuW, ASW, and MCM, they are absolutely not a one-for-one replacement for a Large Surface Combatant.

So, what does the term “relief” actually mean, and how does that square with other mission sets mentioned for these ships at the Symposium? And why so many FF(X)s?

The Unexpected Future Frigate Mission

Curiously, at least one slide presented during the Captain/Commander session suggested that the Future Frigate might eventually assume “Anti-Air Warfare Mission Sets.” This raises a significant issue. Neither the Littoral Combat Ship nor the Future Frigate possesses—nor are planned to possess—an organic air defense capability beyond point defense.

Point defense protects only the ship itself. Area-air-defense, by contrast, protects groups of ships or an entire task force.

The proposed baseline armament for the Future Frigate includes a 57mm main gun, a 30mm auxiliary gun, and a Mk-49 launcher carrying 21 Rolling Airframe Missiles, supported by AN/SLQ-32(V)6 electronic warfare systems and Nulka decoy launchers. The ship is expected to carry an AN/SPS-77 air and surface search radar. Mission modules may include containerized weapons such as Naval Strike Missiles or Hellfire missiles installed in a stern payload space. As of now, no specific Combat Management System has been identified

This configuration essentially mirrors the air-defense capability of the Littoral Combat Ship: 21 Rolling Airframe Missiles, and a surveillance radar. It is important to note here that while Rolling Airframe Missiles provide effective self-defense, they cannot perform area air defense. The system is effective only at ranges out to 10km, and for threats below Mach 2. It is not, for example, capable against several classes of air threats, including ballistic missiles, Hypersonic Glide Vehicles, and high and medium altitude aircraft. Further, low magazine depth means that the system may be overwhelmed by saturation.

Modern area defense requires Standard Missiles, a vertical launch system, and a powerful radar integrated with a combat system such as Aegis and AN/SPY-6 radar. Without these elements, a ship cannot reliably counter the full range of modern aerial threats. These are the facts, and they are not in dispute.

Nor is such an upgrade feasible. The Littoral Combat Ship already operates near the limits of its stability, while the Future Frigate is derived from the Legend-class National Security Cutter, a design of roughly 4,500 tons displacement. By comparison, the now-canceled Constellation-class guided-missile frigate, the smallest modern Navy design intended to carry an area-air-defense system, displaced over 7,000 tons. The radar, launch systems, missiles, and supporting equipment required for area defense simply exceed the weight and space margins of a 3,500-ton Littoral Combat Ship or a roughly 4,700-ton Future Frigate.

This reality matters. In U.S. Navy classification, the “G” designation—as in guided missile destroyers or frigates—indicates a ship capable of guided-missile . Suggestion that the Future Frigate can perform Anti-Air warfare missions without such capability is therefore misleading.

Historically, frigates served as ocean escorts, but ships equipped only with point defense cannot safely escort other vessels where air attack is possible. They can defend themselves, but not the ships around them. For the Small Surface Combatants, this obviates escort of merchant shipping or amphibious forces. That mission must fall to the Large Surface Combatants—Arleigh Burkes.

The importance of this distinction—point and area defense capability—is growing as air and missile threats proliferate. A decade ago, it would have seemed implausible that the Houthis in Yemen could challenge shipping with anti-ship ballistic missiles—yet that has been reality since 2023. Meanwhile, advanced systems such as Russia’s Tsirkon and China’s DF-21D anti-ship missiles continue to expand the threat environment in genuinely

The conclusion is unavoidable: Small Surface Combatants cannot operate independently against peer adversaries in high air threat environments. As for missions like Anti-Submarine or Anti-Air Warfare, those missions can only be carried out under the area-air-defense umbrella provided by guided missile destroyers.

Which raises the central question, yet again: if Arleigh Burke destroyers remain the only ships capable of protecting the fleet from the air, what does it truly mean to “relieve the burden” on the destroyer force?

The One True Mission

A major problem for the Navy today is a reliance on sledgehammer solutions for problems that may only require a tack hammer. For example, in 2009, USS Bainbridge (DDG 96) was assigned to anti-piracy operations off Somalia. In March 2025, USS Gravely (DDG 107) was sent to the Gulf of Mexico for a maritime border mission under US Northern Command, helping to deter illegal sea crossings and drug trafficking. Simultaneously, USS Stockdale (DDG 106) deployed off the US–Mexico Pacific coast to support the same operation, with a Coast Guard detachment embarked.

It is troubling that these ships—the critical core of the Navy’s Large Surface Combatant power for the next 50 years—are being expended on missions more appropriately suited to smaller, lightly armed and manned ships. Ships can only accumulate so many operational miles; once Arleigh Burke-class guided missile destroyer miles are used for counter-drug or other low-end tasks, they cannot be reclaimed.

Rear Admiral Trinque touched upon this critical dynamic. According to Trinque, with destroyers focusing on “high-end” missions, there’s room for the Littoral Combat Ship to do the less involved work of countering narcotics trafficking, which has shot to the top of national security priorities in the past year. “If it’s defending the territorial integrity of the United States against illegal trafficking, counter-narcotics, if it’s controlling sea lanes in a lower threat environment, then a small surface combatant should be in your toolkit.”

Rear Admiral Trinque was referring to a mission set known as Maritime Interdiction Operations. However, today, and as noted above, maritime interdictions is not a mission exclusively assigned to Littoral Combat Ships

So, what specific missions should these Small Surface Combatants perform? How can they relieve the Arleigh Burke-class? The answer lies in straightforward yet fundamental Navy tasks that lie below the heavy combat requirements assigned to the destroyers:

Maritime Interdiction Operations: This includes interdiction of drugs, weapons, and human smuggling; enforcement of sanctions and embargoes; counter-piracy; interdiction of terrorist movements and logistics; and prevention of Weapons of Mass Destruction (WMD) proliferation.

Mine Countermeasure Operations: With the retirement of the Avenger-class, there are no purpose-built mine warfare ships in the fleet. For years, the Navy has relied on NATO to provide these capabilities. However, any fight in the Western Pacific cannot be assumed to be mine-free, nor can NATO be expected to supply mine warfare ships. Arleigh Burke-class guided missile destroyers have no such capability; this gap must be filled elsewhere to ensure access for operations such as the defense of Taiwan or Korea.

Multinational and Presence Operations: The Navy routinely operates with allied navies in exercises such as BALTOPS (Baltic), UNITAS (South Ameria), CUTLASS EXPRESS (East Africa/Western Indian Ocean), and FOAL EAGLE/FREEDOM SHIELD (Korean Peninsula). These missions involve dozens of ships annually. Assigning Arleigh Burke-class guided missile destroyers to such low-threat demonstrations is equivalent to sending a sledgehammer to perform tack-hammer work.

of these missions require sophisticated combat systems, larger size, or large and complex crews. Except for Mine Countermeasure Operations, none require operations in high-threat waters. Yet these missions remain core Navy responsibilities. This is not to say that the inclusion of a Large Surface Combatant would not have the value of sending a powerful message to both allies and adversary; however, that choice should be optional.

Three critical missions to ease the burden on the Large Surface Combatants. While these small ships can augment that force in combat areas, without area air capability, they absolutely cannot relieve a single Large Surface Combatant of its duties.

Is This About Shipbuilding?

What stands behind the Secretary of the Navy’s push get the first of very many Future Frigates into the water by 2028 – an extraordinary number since the shortest time recorded for a Littoral Combat to go from keel laying to commission was 36 months.

Is it the need for a significant small combatant force?

In truth, this rush may well be more connected to national shipbuilding concerns that it is to the specific force structure needs of the Navy. The president has repeatedly emphasized the need to revitalize US shipbuilding, which is critical to national security. During World War II, the US outbuilt adversaries and achieved naval dominance; today, fewer than two Arleigh Burke-class guided missile destroyers are delivered per year. The United States has arguably lost the ability to build ships in numbers, and that may tell in a war situation with a peer competitor, like China. 

This is not to say that an American ability to build ships and submarines in number is not a national imperative—it is. It is, in fact, a key element of the National Security Strategy. The published document makes clear that cultivating a strong American industrial base—including critical production capacity – is fundamental to national power and security. This implies that building the capacity to produce ships and other systems is part of national strategy, not just defense programs.

But is building the Future Frigate, at least in part, to stimulate this industrial imperative enough. It is not. The Navy needs to build the right ship, not just a ship. With respect to fleet needs, 85, point defense-equipped frigates is many more than required to either execute the destroyer-relieving missions of Presence, Mine Warfare, Maritime Interdiction, or even combat augmentation.

While building the Future Frigate may be an indispensable win for US shipbuilding, the cost —in money, resources, fleet coherence, and the opportunity to build the next, right warship —remains significant.

What are we Doing and Why?

The central point is this: the Future Frigate is being pursued less as a decisive warfighting innovation than as a means to stabilize a shipbuilding enterprise in distress. Its secondary purpose is to relieve the operational burden on the Arleigh Burke–class destroyers. Beyond that, it functions as a stopgap—bridging the gap until the Navy can define and build the “next” truly capable surface combatant. That ship is not the Future Frigate.

As for the cancelled Constellation-class, which the Secretary of the Navy deemed too expensive, too far behind schedule, and abutting the fleet space occupied by the Arleigh Burke-class guided missile destroyer, that ship most likely would have filled the need for a modern, area air defense capable frigate. The net result of the cancellation is a faster, cheaper solution which can be quickly built in numbers—the Future Frigate—even if that solution is far less capable than the Constellation. But then, this appears to be more about stimulating the industrial base than it is about the warfighting mission.

In the near term, the Navy should take practical steps to maximize the utility of its existing and planned Small Surface Combatants. This is not to argue against making these ships as capable as possible within clearly defined limits. The strategic environment is increasingly unpredictable; even a vessel assigned to counter-piracy could find itself drawn into a broader conflict. Small combatants can and must contribute meaningfully to high-end warfare—but only if their limitations are clearly understood and accepted.

With respect to the Littoral Combat Ship classes, two viable paths present themselves. First, the Independence-class should be rationalized into a single-mission platform focused on mine countermeasures. These ships should be forward-deployed to the Arabian Gulf and Western Pacific—Japan or Guam—along with the necessary shore infrastructure. There, they would provide a credible and responsive mine warfare capability in the theater of greatest risk. While the mine countermeasures module remains immature, the absence of alternative dedicated capability in the fleet makes these ships indispensable. Further, their large flight decks and speed also make them well suited to operate unmanned aerial systems, extending surveillance, reconnaissance, and limited strike capacity across the battlespace, albeit not concurrently with mine operations.

The Freedom-class, by contrast, should be based on the U.S. East Coast and tasked with maritime interdiction operations that currently consume high-end assets. These missions—ranging from counter-narcotics to presence operations—do not require robust air defense and are ill-suited to Arleigh Burke–class destroyers. In peacetime, the forward-deployed Independence-class could supplement these roles as needed. While both Littoral Combat Ship variants are more complex and manpower-intensive than ideal for such missions, they are available and sufficient.

As for the Future Frigate, the Navy must resist the temptation to expand its mission beyond its inherent limits. It will not be, and cannot be, a “pocket destroyer” capable of full-spectrum air warfare. That kind of mission creep—allowing requirements to exceed the physical and power constraints of the hull—was a central factor in the Littoral Combat Ship program’s difficulties.

Anti-Submarine Warfare capability remains particularly uncertain. Senior officials have suggested that more advanced Anti-Submarine Warfare systems may be deferred to later increments, leaving early ships reliant primarily on embarked helicopters. Proposed modular solutions—containerized towed arrays or unmanned systems—remain undefined. Given the cancellation of the Littoral Combat Ship Anti-Submarine module, following years of delay, expectations for a near-term frigate-based solution should be tempered

Consequently, the Future Frigate, with limited point-defense air warfare capability and no clearly defined organic Anti-Submarine Warfare suite, will not be suited to escort duties in contested environments. Missions such as convoy escort, amphibious protection, and area air defense will remain the responsibility of the destroyer force.

Instead, the Future Frigate should be designed to replace the Littoral Combat Ship fleet over time while sustaining the industrial base and maintaining hull numbers for low- to – medium intensity missions. Conceptually, it should resemble an enhanced Coast Guard cutter: equipped with a medium-caliber gun, point-defense missile systems, modest Anti-Submarine Warfare capability, and possibly an over-the-horizon strike weapon, but nothing more ambitious. These ships can augment deployed forces—but only under the protective umbrella of destroyer-provided air defense.

Ultimately, the restoration of U.S. shipbuilding capacity may itself justify the program, even if the resulting force structure exceeds the strict requirements of the Small Surface Combatant mission set. This industrial imperative likely explains the urgency behind the 2028 timeline, despite the lack of fully defined requirements.

The Navy’s enthusiasm for the broader fleet expansion, and for the Future Frigate in particular, appears driven in large part by the need to relieve the unsustainable operational tempo imposed on the Arleigh Burke force—tasked with everything from high-end combat to routine patrol duties.

In that sense, the current leadership has been charged with addressing the cumulative consequences of several troubled acquisition efforts, including the Littoral Combat Ship and the Zumwalt-class destroyer. Yet it is essential to recognize the Future Frigate for what it is: an interim solution, intended as much to sustain shipbuilding as to enhance combat capability.

The real challenge remains the development of the next-generation surface combatant—a ship with the size, power, and growth margin to accommodate future weapons and sensors. That search has eluded the Navy for decades. The Future Frigate is not that answer. Achieving it will require a clean-sheet design, sustained discipline, and a willingness to align ambition with technical reality. Until then, the frigate program represents not a destination, but a holding action.

Captain Kevin Eyer is a retired Surface Warfare Officer who served on active duty for 27 years. He deployed in seven cruisers and commanded three Aegis cruisers; USS Thomas S. Gates (CG 51), USS Shiloh (CG 67), and USS Chancellorsville (CG 62). Captain Eyer completed tours on both the Navy Staff and Joint Staff and attained a master’s from the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy at Tuft’s University. He was the US Naval Institute Proceedings Author of the Year in 2017, and three-time winner of the Surface Navy Literary Award.

Featured Image: PACIFIC OCEAN (Feb. 27, 2019) The Independence variant littoral combat ships USS Tulsa (LCS 16), right, USS Manchester (LCS 14), center, and USS Independence (LCS 2), left, sail in formation in the eastern Pacific. (U.S. Navy photo by Chief Mass Communication Specialist Shannon Renfroe/Released).

A Four-Ocean Navy: A Wrong Solution to the Right Problem

By Bruce Stubbs

I. Introduction

“Whether you build a Navy for high consequence, low probability or low consequence, high probability scenarios — in either case you’re left with an over or undersubscribed force that’s sub-optimized to address specific use cases which may never come to bear.” —Admiral Daryl Caudle, Chief of Naval Operations, 2026

Professor Derek Reveron’s March 2026 CIMSEC essay, “Why America Needs a Four-Ocean Navy,” is the kind of grand strategic thinking the naval profession needs more of — clear, historically grounded, and bracingly ambitious. His diagnosis of the Navy’s central problem is essentially correct: a globally dispersed force trying to do everything with a shrinking number of expensive multi-mission ships is a formula for strategic incoherence and operational exhaustion. On that point, there is little to dispute.

Reveron’s prescription is a two-part proposal: a command and control (C2) organizational redesign and a tailored forces program. On the organizational side, he proposes replacing the Navy’s current theater-oriented fleet structure with four ocean-based fleet commands — the Atlantic Ocean Fleet Command, Pacific Ocean Fleet Command, Arctic Ocean Fleet Command, and Indian Ocean Fleet Command — each with its own commander, budget, and procurement priorities. On the forces side, he proposes tailoring each fleet’s composition to its specific threat environment: frigates, destroyers, attack submarines, maritime patrol aircraft, small surface combatants, unmanned systems, and diesel-electric submarines sourced from allied yards for the Atlantic and Arctic; logistics ships, replenishment oilers, mobile bases, amphibious ships, destroyers, and patrol craft for the Indian Ocean Fleet Command; and the Navy’s most advanced combat-ready platforms — aircraft carriers, nuclear attack submarines, and Aegis-equipped destroyers interoperable with Japan and South Korea — for the Pacific Ocean Fleet Command. To authorize and fund this differentiated structure, he invokes the Two-Ocean Navy Act of 1940 as his legislative model, proposing a Four-Ocean Navy Act of 2026.

The organizational and forces logic is strategically intuitive. But both elements of Reveron’s proposal rest on a foundation that is missing its first and most essential element: a strategy that disciplines the demand for naval forces before it designs the force to meet that demand. Without that prior strategic work, force design becomes institutional preference rather than strategic requirement — and no organizational architecture survives contact with a political system that treats naval power as its primary instrument of coercive statecraft. Five arguments establish why. Before examining those arguments, however, it is worth establishing what Reveron gets right — because he gets a great deal right, and the critique that follows is stronger for acknowledging it.

II. What Reveron Gets Right — The Strategic Case for Differentiation

In World War II, the Navy that fought in the Pacific was structurally different from the Navy that fought in the Atlantic — not accidentally, but by deliberate strategic design. The Pacific Fleet was organized around fast carriers, submarines, and amphibious assault capability, sustained by a massive mobile logistics force — Service Squadron Ten and its predecessors — across the vast distances of the Pacific. The Atlantic Fleet was organized principally around escort destroyers, anti-submarine warfare vessels, and convoy protection against the German U-boat threat, though it also mounted major amphibious operations in North Africa, Sicily, Salerno, Southern France, and Normandy. One strategy and one force design did not fit both theaters.

It is worth being precise about what the Two-Ocean Navy Act of 1940 was and was not. Congress authorized an unprecedented industrial expansion to build enough warships for two oceans. It was the strategic situation — the fall of France, the prospect of fighting Germany and Japan simultaneously without European allies — and the Roosevelt administration’s Germany-first policy that determined the different force compositions each theater required. The Act was the industrial means to execute a prior strategic judgment; it was not the strategic judgment itself.

That historical lesson translates directly to Reveron’s present argument. In the Pacific, China’s navy — now the world’s largest by hull count — operates along interior lines within its near seas, supported by land-based anti-ship missiles, a sophisticated air defense envelope, and a clear strategic objective: controlling the first island chain and deterring or defeating American intervention over Taiwan. The tyranny of distance favors China in its own near seas; the United States must project power across thousands of miles of open ocean to contest it. In the Atlantic, Russia’s rebuilt and modernized submarine fleet represents the most capable undersea threat the NATO alliance has faced since the 1980s — and Russian submarines can also launch long-range precision cruise missiles against targets in Europe and against critical military infrastructure along the American eastern seaboard, raising important questions about whether the Atlantic Ocean Fleet Command’s operational concept should be containment in the Greenland-Iceland-United Kingdom (GIUK) Gap or forward operations in the Barents Sea. In the Indian Ocean, China’s port access agreements stretching from Sri Lanka to Djibouti and Iran’s threats to critical chokepoints create distinct maritime competition and security challenges. In the Western Hemisphere and Caribbean, the challenge is lower-end maritime security that demands small combatants and unmanned systems rather than Arleigh Burke-class destroyers.

CNO Caudle confirmed the operational consequence of failing to match force to threat at the Paris Naval Conference in February 2026: “What I find now is I end up having to use carrier strike groups and amphibious readiness groups in places where I believe I could tailor a force package and be more suited to the threat.” The structural mismatch Reveron identifies is real, and his geographic and threat analysis is sound. The question is not whether his diagnosis is correct. It is. The question is whether his C2 organizational redesign and tailored forces program can be built and sustained without the prior strategic work that makes force design accountable rather than aspirational.

III. Five Arguments Against the Prescription

1. A Strategy-Free Force Design

“While the right organization might not guarantee success, the wrong one will likely guarantee failure.”—President Dwight D. Eisenhower

Reveron’s proposal is a strategy-free force design. He identifies what each ocean fleet would do — anti-submarine warfare and escort in the Atlantic, sea lines of communication protection in the Indian Ocean, power projection in the Pacific. He does not identify what winning looks like against a named adversary, by when, under what theory of victory, or how his proposed C2 structure and tailored forces connect to a national strategy for prevailing. Without those answers, force design becomes preference rather than requirement.

The prime criteria for designing any C2 organization require a clearly defined mission and a stated objective before force design, geographic assignment, or threat analysis can follow. Reveron’s proposal begins with the latter and leaves the former unstated.

Consider the Atlantic Ocean Fleet Command. Reveron proposes diesel-electric submarines sourced from allied yards — a reasonable inference from the Russian submarine threat in the North Atlantic. But Russian submarines can also threaten Europe and the American eastern seaboard with precision cruise missiles. Does the Atlantic Ocean Fleet Command’s mission require containment in the GIUK Gap or offensive operations in the Barents Sea to threaten Russia’s submarine bastions, as the 1980s Maritime Strategy proposed? The answer determines whether the right submarine is a diesel-electric boat, a nuclear attack submarine, or both. Reveron’s proposal cannot answer this question because it has not asked it. The same gap exists in the Pacific: whether the objective is deterrence, denial, or decisive defeat of China’s naval forces determines fleet size, composition, and basing in ways his mission lists do not resolve.

Reveron’s Four-Ocean Navy Act invokes the legislative mechanism of the 1940 Two-Ocean Navy Act without supplying its prerequisite: the strategic assessment that determined what needed to be built and why. Without that assessment, the four constraints that follow cannot be resolved. They can only be compounded.

2. The Demand Signal Is Politically Irresistible

“In case we don’t make a deal, we’ll need it.”— President Donald Trump, on ordering the USS ⁠Gerald R. Ford ⁠Carrier Strike Group to the Middle East, February 2026

Reveron’s organizational redesign assumes that assigning specific forces to specific ocean fleet commands will concentrate those forces on their assigned missions. This assumption has never survived contact with the actual source of naval demand. The demand signal for naval forces is not generated by fleet commanders or strategic plans. It is generated by a President who reaches for his most powerful coercive instrument when a crisis erupts, by combatant commanders who request forces with no incentive to be sparing and no accountability for the readiness costs their requests impose, and by secretaries of defense who approve those requests because the political cost of not having a carrier forward is always calculated as higher than the readiness cost of deploying one. The only person in the chain who understands what saying yes does to long-term readiness is the CNO — and the CNO has no authority to refuse.

Former Deputy Secretary of Defense Robert Work documented this pathology in a 2021 USNI Proceedings essay: after the Cold War, the Navy adopted forward presence as its strategic concept and its budget justification, combatant commanders began generating unconstrained demands the Navy felt compelled to satisfy, and the result was a shift from a readiness-centric to a deployment-centric culture and the beginning of a long, inexorable decline in material readiness. Work cited Mackenzie Eaglen’s finding that in 2015 the Navy met only 44 percent of combatant commander requests — and would have needed 150 more ships to satisfy all of them. The Center for Naval Analyses’ 2010 Tipping Point study documented that despite an 18 percent reduction in battle force ships between 1999 and 2009, the number of ships on deployment remained essentially constant, sustained by longer deployments and a doubling of the forward-deployed naval force. The consequence was not abstract: the relentless forward presence tempo contributed to four Seventh Fleet accidents in 2017 that claimed the lives of 17 sailors.

The current administration has demonstrated this dynamic with unusual clarity. The 2025 National Security Strategy explicitly warned against overcommitment and overextension, declaring that prior administrations had defined national interests too broadly. Within fifteen months of that declaration, President Trump had ordered major carrier strike group deployments to four contingencies: Operation Rough Rider against the Houthis in early 2025, at a cost exceeding $1 billion and the loss of two fighter aircraft at sea; Operation Southern Spear in the Caribbean, consuming 38 percent of available Navy warships; the Ford Carrier Strike Group pulled directly from the Caribbean to the Middle East for operations against Iran in February 2026; and as of this writing, a third carrier strike group ordered to enforce a presidential blockade of the Strait of Hormuz. That is the demand signal in its purest form — not a combatant commander’s request, not a strategic plan, but a president reaching for his most powerful coercive instrument because it is available and because the political cost of not having it forward is always higher than the readiness cost of deploying it.

Reveron’s Four-Ocean Navy gives each ocean fleet commander a theater, a headquarters, forces, and — inevitably — a stream of presence requirements with genuine strategic justification behind every one. It does not give the CNO the authority to say no to the combatant commander requests and presidential orders that consume fleet readiness. It does not constrain a president who views carriers as instruments of coercive diplomacy. The Navy today already has numbered fleet commanders generating competing presence demands — and still cannot satisfy them. Reveron’s Four-Ocean Navy replaces them with four ocean fleet commanders, each with broader geographic scope, deeper strategic justification, and stronger institutional standing to press their requirements. The demand does not decrease. Its strategic defensibility increases. As retired Navy Commander Phillip Pournelle documented in a 2017 War on the Rocks analysis, the average gap between consecutive U.S. Navy ship presence periods in the South China Sea ran between 95 and 105 days — and sometimes up to 164 days — illustrating that even in the Pacific, persistent global demand prevents the Navy from maintaining the continuous presence its own strategy requires. The pattern has not merely resisted organizational remedies. It has survived them, grown in spite of them, and exacted lethal costs in the process.

3. Optimization in Peace Creates Rigidity in War

“If the Navy hoped that reductions in the demand signal would give it breathing room to reset the force, its hopes have proved to be false.”— Center for Naval Analyses, The Navy at a Tipping Point, 2010.

Forces optimized for specific theaters in peacetime cannot be rapidly reallocated in general war. The Navy fights globally when it matters most, not theater by theater in neat sequence. Theater-bound forces reduce strategic flexibility precisely when that flexibility is most needed.

The World War II model Reveron invokes illustrates both sides of this argument. Theater differentiation worked because the industrial base produced ships in quantities sufficient to fully equip both fleets simultaneously and retain surplus for redeployment as the strategic situation evolved. The nation produced 1,051 destroyer escorts for the Battle of the Atlantic — enough to equip the U.S. Atlantic Fleet and transfer significant numbers to the U.S. Pacific Fleet as the German threat diminished. Both fleets, though differently optimized, were built to standards that allowed cross-theater redeployment when the strategic situation demanded.

Today, neither condition exists. The threats are no longer geographically bounded: China operates in the Pacific and the Indian Ocean simultaneously; Russia’s submarines operate in the North Atlantic, the Arctic, and the Mediterranean; Iran threatens the Indian Ocean and the Red Sea. A strategy that has thought through the redeployment problem — which theaters are primary, which are economy of force, how forces shift as the situation evolves — is the prerequisite for theater-specific optimization. Without it, optimization in peace becomes rigidity in war. Diesel-electric submarines, optimized for the acoustic conditions of the North Atlantic and the GIUK Gap, lack the range and endurance to sustain operations across the Indo-Pacific. If a Pacific Ocean Fleet Command crisis requires every available submarine, the Atlantic Ocean Fleet Command’s diesel boats contribute little. As August Cole and Peter Singer documented in a March 2026 Proceedings analysis, a Pacific conflict risks being lost in part because theater-specialized forces arrive too late, run short of fuel when allied port access is denied, and fail to simultaneously cover the GIUK Gap and surge to the Indo-Pacific. Reveron’s proposal institutionalizes exactly this rigidity. It is, in its operational reality, the Shrinking Status Quo with a new organizational framework — it does not add ships, money, or industrial capacity. It reorganizes existing and insufficient assets into four specialized formations, each weaker than a coherent two-theater strategy requires.

4. You Cannot Build the Fleet You Imagine

“When we run wargames, the red team goes for the Combat Logistics Force every single time.”—Admiral Samuel Paparo, Commander, U.S. Pacific Fleet, February 2024

The United States lacks the shipbuilding capacity, workforce, and sustained funding to build multiple differentiated fleets given that it is already unable to produce a single adequate one. This is not a marginal constraint. On current trajectories, it is the defining industrial reality of American naval power.

The Heritage Foundation’s 2026 Index of U.S. Military Strength found the Navy operating with more than $1.32 trillion in deferred investment, a fleet rated “weak,” and a force 110 ships below the 400-ship two-war standard. The International Institute for Strategic Studies December 2025 Strategic Comments found that 37 of the 45 battle-force ships under construction face delays, and in 2024 only 41 percent of surface-ship maintenance was completed on time. The GAO documents that despite nearly doubling its shipbuilding budget over two decades, the Navy has not increased its number of ships. Virginia-class submarine Block V production runs at 60 percent of its two-per-year goal. The Columbia-class first boat will be at least a year late. The Pentagon appointed its first-ever submarine “czar” — Vice Admiral Robert Gaucher — in February 2026 specifically to manage those delays. The Navy is managing an industrial crisis in its existing programs. Reveron’s proposal adds new ones.

In fiscal year 2023 the Navy delivered only 7 of the 13 ships required to maintain its annual force structure objective — a failure the GAO attributes to cost overruns, design changes during construction, and immature program baselines that have persisted across multiple ship classes and multiple administrations. The shipbuilding budget has nearly doubled over two decades; the fleet has not grown. Reveron’s Four-Ocean Navy requires adding new ship types on top of a procurement system that cannot deliver the ships it is already contracted to build.

Stephen Biddle and Eric Labs documented in Foreign Affairs in March 2025 that China’s shipbuilding capacity exceeds that of the United States by a factor of more than 200 — and that it now takes eleven years to build an aircraft carrier and nine years to build a nuclear attack submarine or destroyer in the United States. During World War II, an aircraft carrier could be built in just over a year and a submarine in a matter of months; the U.S. fleet grew more than twenty times during that war. Those conditions no longer exist. As Biddle and Labs concluded, if an aircraft carrier were lost in battle today, it may not be replaced for decades — or ever. China, by contrast, is now building carriers and nuclear submarines in roughly half the time American yards require. Reveron’s Four-Ocean Navy requires building new ship types — among them diesel-electric submarines not produced by an American yard since World War II — on top of a shipbuilding base already failing to meet existing commitments.

The industrial base needed to execute this program has been contracting, not expanding. Over the past fifty years, seventeen private shipyards that built ships for the defense industry have either closed or left the sector entirely — leaving the Navy dependent on a handful of yards at precisely the moment demand is rising. Reveron’s proposal requires standing up diesel-electric submarine production at an American yard for the first time since World War II. There is no yard equipped to stand up.

What his Four-Ocean Navy would require on top of this crisis is substantial and, in key respects, cannot realistically be delivered on any strategically relevant timeline. Arctic icebreakers remain Coast Guard multi-mission cutters, not Navy combat vessels, and the lead ship of that program is already six years behind schedule. No administration since President Ronald Reagan has sustained naval investment at the levels the Navy’s own planning documents require. A Four-Ocean Navy Act can be legislated. The appropriations to build it, in a nation that has not sustained naval investment for three decades and lacks a public strategy establishing clear priorities, cannot be assumed.

The Combat Logistics Force (CLF) compounds every other industrial constraint. Secretary Phelan stated the problem plainly in January 2026: “Logistics and auxiliaries form the backbone that sustains operations across distance. A world-class combat fleet without a modern auxiliary force is a fleet that cannot stay in the fight. The logistics tail wags the operational dog and right now our tail is too short for our ambitions.” The Heritage Foundation’s January 2026 Tidal Wave Project found that the entire CLF can sustain a maximum at-sea fuel delivery throughput of approximately 265,000 to 280,000 barrels per day to naval end-users in the Western Pacific — a figure that would degrade rapidly under sustained Chinese strikes.

While twenty John Lewis-class replacement oilers were planned, only four had been delivered as of late 2024 at unit costs exceeding $900 million each. Reveron adds logistics ships as a line item for the Indian Ocean Fleet Command. He does not address the systemic CLF recapitalization that must precede any serious differentiated fleet strategy. As Rear Admiral L.D. McCormick observed in 1944, “Logistics is all of war-making except shooting the guns, releasing the bombs, and firing the torpedoes.” China already knows where that seam is — and in Admiral Paparo’s wargames, they exploit it every time.

5. The Navy Will Over-Specify the Fleet You Design

“We are first and foremost a fighting, sea-going service.”—Admiral Mike Mullen, Chief of Naval Operations, CNO Guidance for 2006.

The Navy’s institutional culture drives every platform toward high-end, multi-mission capability. This dynamic has defeated similar efforts repeatedly — the Littoral Combat Ship (LCS), the Constellation-class frigate — and it will override any Four-Ocean construct. The reason is worth stating precisely: the Navy pursues exquisite capabilities because it — not Congress, not the Secretary — carries the operational risk when its ships prove inadequate in combat. That logic is not irrational. It is, however, incompatible with the affordable, differentiated fleet Reveron envisions.

The documented pattern is consistent. The LCS was conceived as fast, agile, and modular — affordable in quantity and flexible in mission. Its mission modules never matured, its survivability was questioned, and procurement was truncated. The Constellation-class was based on the proven Fregata Europea Multi-Missione hull — already built, already proven, already affordable. Five years of Navy-driven requirement additions produced a ship with only approximately 15 percent commonality with its predecessor, approaching destroyer cost. It was cancelled in November 2025. Secretary Phelan’s selection of the Legend-class FF(X) — a hull that already exists, from yards that already build it — represents the most honest acknowledgment in a generation that the Navy must accept what the industrial base can produce rather than specify what strategists wish it could. As Phelan stated at the Reagan National Defense Forum: “We are going to take our warfighters’ requirements, translate them into stable, producible designs, and stick with them once they’re set.”

Reveron’s four ocean fleet structures would each face a real and distinct threat environment providing genuine strategic justification for the most capable ships available. The Pacific Ocean Fleet Command faces China’s advanced surface combatants and submarines. The Atlantic Ocean Fleet Command faces Russia’s modernized submarine force. Unlike the Constellation-class, where the strategic justification was always somewhat arguable, each ocean fleet’s requirement growth would be strategically defensible — which makes it harder to stop, not easier.

What stopped it with the Constellation-class was not a change in institutional culture. It was a Secretary of the Navy who intervened personally, cancelled the program, selected the Legend-class, named it a “low-end workhorse” without apology, and reserved Fridays at 5:00 p.m. for change-order accountability. That kind of top-down override is the only thing that has ever worked. It is difficult with one procurement pipeline. With four ocean fleet pipelines — each backed by genuine strategic requirements and championed by a fleet commander carrying real operational risk — it becomes structurally improbable.

The arithmetic is unsparing: U.S. surface combatants currently field roughly 1,344 vertical launch system cells against China’s Type 055 cruisers and Type 052D destroyers alone, which provide approximately 2,944 — a ratio of better than two-to-one before counting PLA Rocket Force land-based anti-ship missiles. Four ocean fleets do not solve this firepower disadvantage. They distribute an already insufficient force across four commands, each demanding the most capable platforms available, none able to close the gap.

IV. Conclusion

Professor Reveron has identified a genuine strategic problem and proposed a historically grounded solution. His geographic differentiation is the correct starting point for the analysis the nation needs. The problem is that he skips that analysis and proceeds directly to organizational and industrial solutions — giving us the Four-Ocean Navy Act before the strategy that would justify it.

The historical model he invokes teaches a different lesson than he draws from it. The Two-Ocean Navy Act of 1940 did not create the strategy. It funded one. The Roosevelt administration’s Germany-first decision, the fall of France, and the prospect of simultaneous war against Germany and Japan — those were the prior strategic judgments that determined what each theater needed and what could move between them. The Act was the industrial means to execute that judgment. Four decades later, the Reagan-era Maritime Strategy worked the same way: it named the adversary, defined a theory of victory — taking the fight to Soviet home waters, threatening Soviet ballistic missile submarines, collapsing the Soviet defensive perimeter — and derived the force requirements from that analysis. The 600-ship Navy followed the strategy. Reveron wants to reverse the sequence. He proposes a Four-Ocean Navy Act first and leaves the strategy that would justify it for later. It has never worked in that order.

Reveron is solving the wrong problem at the wrong level. His diagnosis is correct: a globally dispersed force trying to do everything with a shrinking number of expensive multi-mission ships cannot be sustained — but his organizational and industrial prescription does not address why it is being asked to. The causation is a political system in which no President, no Secretary of Defense, and no combatant commander wants to carry the risk of not having a carrier strike group available when a crisis erupts — and in which the CNO, the one person who understands what saying yes does to long-term readiness, has no authority to say no. No force design has ever solved a demand problem where the demand is generated by actors with no incentive to restrain themselves and no accountability for the costs they impose.

The right answer is to first do the strategic work the Maritime Strategy did: name the adversaries in priority order, define the end states in each theater, state the theory of victory, and derive force requirements from that analysis. Until that work is done, no fleet architecture — two oceans or four — can be evaluated as right or wrong. It can only be attempted. And no force design, however well-organized and however well-funded, has ever survived contact with a political system that treats naval power as its primary coercive instrument without first establishing the strategic discipline to govern its use.

Prior to his full retirement as a member of the U.S. senior executive service, Bruce Stubbs had assignments on the staffs of the Secretary of the Navy and the Chief of Naval Operations from 2009 to 2022. He was a former director of Strategy and Strategic Concepts in the OPNAV N3N5 and N7 directorates. As a career U.S. Coast Guard officer, he had a posting as the Assistant Commandant for Capability (current title) in Headquarters, served on the staff of the National Security Council, taught at the Naval War College, commanded a major cutter, and served a combat tour with the U.S. Navy in Vietnam during the 1972 Easter Offensive.

Featured Image: PHILIPPINE SEA (June 23, 2020) The Theodore Roosevelt Carrier Strike Group transits in formation with the Nimitz Carrier Strike Group while conducting dual carrier and airwing operations in the Philippine Sea. (U.S. Navy photo)

Mass Drones to Save Missiles: A High–Low Mix for the Pacific

By Connor Keating

 The future of conflict in the Western Pacific will hinge on sustaining firepower over vast distances with finite magazines and vulnerable logistics. The Russia‑Ukraine war and much of history show that victory has never relied on a small inventory of exquisite, high‑cost weapons.1 Instead, success increasingly rests on combining massed, affordable drones with a more limited stock of precision‑guided munitions—a munitions‑centric high–low mix. To deter and, if necessary, defeat aggression, the U.S. should build a mix of long‑range, payload-modular drones. This approach is about designing an economically favorable, attrition‑resilient strike architecture that forces an adversary into unfavorable cost‑exchange ratios.

Originally a Cold War concept that paired high‑ and low‑end manned platforms against the Soviet Union, the high–low mix has re-emerged in a new form centered on munitions rather than platforms. A munitions‑centric high–low mix forces adversaries to choose between defending against slow, numerous drones or conserving interceptors for higher‑end threats, thereby creating gaps in their air defenses.2 In a theater defined by extended supply lines and constrained magazines, such a mix will be essential to sustaining combat power and imposing escalating costs on the People’s Liberation Army.

Lessons from Ukraine

At the onset of the war, Russia relied heavily on conventional combined arms but quickly transitioned—much as Ukraine did earlier—to a new toolset of drones to contest the land, sea, and air domains. Two lessons stand out for U.S. planners preparing for a conflict in the Pacific.

First, Ukraine has effectively combined maritime drones with traditional missiles and employed “mothership” drones to extend range at sea. The integration of sea drones with missile air defense systems significantly degraded Russia’s presence in the Black Sea by simultaneously threatening ships and their helicopter escorts.3, 4 The operations in the Black Sea demonstrate how relatively inexpensive unmanned systems, when integrated with existing traditional weapons, can constrain an adversary’s freedom of action and impose enduring costs.

Second, and most importantly, both sides utilized one‑way attack drones in conjunction with precision munitions to saturate and exhaust air defenses. Russia pummeled Ukraine with long-range drones, depleting valuable interceptors and straining Ukrainian air defense.5, 6 This pattern would likely repeat in any high‑intensity air and maritime campaign in the Western Pacific. Therefore, the grinding stalemate in Ukraine is less a model to emulate than a warning of the nature of future war.

Requirements for a Pacific High-Low Mix

In the Pacific, drones will require operational ranges approaching 2,000 nautical miles to be meaningful, with a minimum of 100 nautical miles for tactical systems if basing rights near key terrain can be established. Longer‑range systems provide greater operational leverage but will substantially increase costs and reduce temporal fires volume (the weight of effects delivered per unit of time). With these facts in mind, three key requirements emerge.

First, missiles and drones must be deployable from land, sea, and air. Cross‑domain employment or launch-system interchangeability reduces platform-specific dependencies and mitigates the need for extreme‑range systems that may arise in a contested single domain. Interchangeability will streamline supply chains and logistics, as a munition can be fired from multiple platforms with minimal modification, usually with a simple software update.7 The Harpoon anti-ship missile illustrates this principle by being employable from surface, subsurface, and airborne platforms. A surface launch from a ship or ground launcher achieves greater than 70 nautical miles. From an aircraft, the effective range is boosted by the aircraft’s range, often over 500 nautical miles, and can be extended via aerial refueling.8 The same logic should guide the integration of drones against integrated air defense systems.

The risk posed by Chinese long‑range ballistic missiles will likely push the effective denial boundary for surface forces greater than 1,000 nautical miles.9 The U.S. faces a shortfall in strategic sealift capacity, and any Pacific campaign will expose sustainment ships and aircraft to long‑range strike.10 To reduce risk, sustainment forces may be pushed even further from the fight. To sustain combat power, mass must be delivered efficiently and quickly at acceptable risk levels. Taken together, these constraints imply that the U.S requires families of drones binned by range: shorter‑range systems that exploit forward bases near key terrain and longer‑range systems that can operate from well outside threat weapons’ reach.

Because of the ranges involved, purpose‑built drones for the Pacific theater will be more expensive than those used in Europe or the Middle East. In Ukraine, Shahed or Geran drones, with ranges of up to roughly 1,600 nautical miles, provide Russia with coverage of the entire battlespace with multiple routing options, offering significant operational flexibility at relatively low cost.11 By comparison, a similar drone launched from Guam would be on a straight-line attack, approaching its maximum range.

Long-range drones typically use small reciprocating engines and thus avoid some of the solid‑rocket‑motor supply‑chain constraints that affect missiles, as well as the technical complexity associated with gas turbines.12 LUCAS, a new one‑way attack drone reportedly based on the Iranian Shahed‑136, has an estimated range of approximately 1,500 nautical miles and may be among the most promising near‑term options.13 Other candidates include systems such as Altius and Barracuda, with ranges from roughly 100 to over 500 nautical miles.14, 15, 16 While the exact design line between drones and cruise missiles may be blurred, their ability to carry multiple payloads and operate autonomously places them conceptually within the drone portion of the high–low mix. Forcing an adversary to divert resources or believe that one effort is more important than another can have far-reaching strategic effects.

For example, expending large numbers of expensive interceptors against relatively cheap drones increases an adversary’s defensive missile expenditures and creates temporary windows when their air defenses are saturated. During those windows, U.S. forces can employ exquisite missiles against high‑value targets at lower risk, as already seen in Ukraine.17 This tactic increases the effectiveness of individual exquisite munitions and, over time, reduces the cost per target of the combined effect. It also forces adversaries into persistently unfavorable spending patterns and increasing long‑term operational costs. This may potentially force a shift in money or production away from other key weapon systems to fill gaps in air defenses.

For example, the conflict between Israel and Iran following the October 7th attacks. Across three major engagements in October 2024, April 2025, and June 2025, Iran employed more than 1,000 drones and 500 missiles.18 By the end of the exchange, reports indicated that Israel was running critically low on interceptors, and the U.S. had significant shortages of THAAD missiles, while Iran was assessed to still have thousands of missiles and drones remaining in its inventory.19, 20

Moreover, Iranian attacks became increasingly effective over time. By the final round of strikes, more than 60 missiles were impacting Israeli territory—over twice the number that got through in the initial October attack.21 The most consequential aspect of this campaign was not the tactical success but the operational effects Iran achieved. The time and cost required for Israel to repair infrastructure and replenish high-end interceptors are many times greater than the expense of the relatively low-cost, improvised missiles and drones that Iran employed. Iran consumed valuable maintenance hours and sortie-generation capacity that would otherwise support offensive strike missions. If Iran possessed a more capable air force, this kind of coercive, resource‑draining approach could be decisive in shifting the operational balance in its favor by steadily degrading Israel’s ability to generate credible offensive power.

The core operational lesson is that a sustained high–low mix can impose continuous defensive burdens, consume precious economic capital, and erode an opponent’s ability to sustain offensive operations. For the Indo‑Pacific, U.S. and allied forces must be prepared to wage a drawn‑out contest in which the key question is not who fields the most exquisite platforms on day one, but who can afford to keep firing on day one hundred.

The U.S. fields broad capabilities but limited depth in its weapons inventory. A perfect example is the U.S. pursuit of hypersonic weapons since the early 2000s, with little advancement in programs’ operational numbers despite Russia and China likely now fielding operational systems at scale.22 The simple fact regarding U.S. weapons is this: specialized but less scalable than many of their potential adversaries. That creates limits and risks for the platforms that provide the “punch” in potential conflict. To remain competitive, U.S. planners should prioritize modular, cross‑domain-capable drone and missile platforms that can be field-modified and mass‑produced, with an emphasis on range, speed, and flexibility.

Sustainment and Modularity for the High-Low Mix

Modern war is a voracious consumer of munitions. Therefore, the ability to conduct sustainment at scale is critical. Containerization for transport and employment should be the baseline requirement for any drone adopted into U.S. military service. Standardized launch containers can be dispersed on ships, barges, trucks, and austere airstrips across the theater. This distribution complicates adversary targeting, reduces the risk of preemptive strikes on centralized depots, and eases movement into the theater, potentially allowing contracted non-traditional shipping to carry containerized drones and freeing dedicated military sealift for other cargo. The CONSOL concept, in which fuel from civilian tankers is delivered to U.S. Navy oilers and warships, could serve as a model for sustaining containerized drones with minor modifications.23 In practice, this would allow containerized drones to move through commercial and military logistics channels much like fuel or standard cargo, enabling surge munitions flows into the theater without overexposing scarce sealift and major logistics hubs.

The final key enabler is the use of modular drone payloads. A common airframe that can be configured as a jammer, decoy, sensor, or one‑way attack munition allows commanders to tailor each salvo to the mission. Existing systems already demonstrate this potential, carrying payloads ranging from electronic‑attack packages to surveillance sensors.24, 25, 26, 27 Modularity achieves two ends. First, it reduces sustainment risk by minimizing the number of unique systems or components that must be transported into the theater. Second, it increases the probability of a salvo’s success by integrating jammers, decoys, and attack drones into a single, coordinated attack. Determining the optimal drone-to-missile mix requires experimentation to identify force packages that achieve the desired outcomes at minimal cost. Modularity also improves cost‑exchange performance by allowing commanders to reconfigure existing airframes for new tasks rather than fielding separate, specialized systems for each mission set.

Drone-from-Drone and Mothership Concepts

Recent testing of a Switchblade 600 one‑way attack drone launched from a larger MQ‑9A Reaper, the same drones synonymous with the War on Terror, illustrates how drone‑from‑drone concepts can extend the reach and responsiveness of unmanned systems.28 Because the MQ‑9 has roughly twice the speed and greater range than a LUCAS‑type drone, this approach could increase engagement options and compress timelines.29

A more resilient system would include theater‑range modular drones and a dedicated mothership, such as the MQ-9 or other long-range drone, which would carry shorter‑range attack drones. Modular theater drones conduct missions requiring greater payload and power, such as jamming. This nested architecture reduces dependence on manned, high‑value platforms and provides additional means to generate the force mass required to penetrate layered defenses.

Mothership concepts introduce additional command‑and‑control and deconfliction challenges that will require rigorous experimentation and wargaming before adoption at scale. Yet if implemented effectively, they would confront adversary commanders with overlapping dilemmas: theater‑range modular drones launched from ground, sea, or air; shorter‑range munitions deployed from motherships; and exquisite missiles capable of rapid, penetrating strikes. Together, these elements complicate air defense planning and increase the likelihood that some portion of each salvo reaches its targets. Crucially, the U.S. must not lose sight of the fact that China is also experimenting in this field. To maintain its edge, the U.S. must begin rapid live‑fire experimentation to formalize doctrine, create feedback loops for software, and refine command‑and‑control architectures for the inevitable drone‑on‑drone fights.

Conclusion

A future war in the Western Pacific will not be decided by which side fields the most exquisite platforms on the opening day of combat, but by which side can afford to keep firing on day one hundred. The U.S. is currently organized around a force-and-munitions paradigm that assumes short, decisive campaigns that do not exist in reality. Against a peer with a large, industrialized economy and an asymmetric approach designed to circumvent U.S. short-range precision strike, the result is likely paralysis if not outright defeat.

This is not a call for more technology for its own sake, but for different economics in how we design and employ firepower. Containerized, cross‑domain‑launchable drones; modular payloads that can be rapidly reconfigured between jamming, sensing, decoy, and strike; and drone‑from‑drone or mothership concepts that multiply the reach of each sortie—all are tools for building a strike architecture that can absorb attrition and generate effects at scale.

If the U.S. fails to make this shift, it risks entering a Pacific conflict on China’s terms: overextended logistics, shallow magazines, and a force trapped in a defensive, interceptor-driven pattern of expenditure. But if senior leaders move now and implement the suggested changes, the balance changes.

The choice, then, is straightforward. The U.S. can continue to organize its Pacific posture around a shrinking set of exquisite platforms and munitions and hope they survive long enough to matter. Or it can accept that the defining contest of a Western Pacific war will be industrial and economic output at scale. The window to make that choice is closing fast.

Lieutenant Connor Keating commissioned from the Virginia Tech NROTC and served aboard a forward-deployed destroyer in Yokosuka, Japan. On shore duty, he was a protocol action officer to the Chairman and Vice Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. He is an integrated air-and-missile defense warfare tactics instructor and participated in the Naval War College’s Halsey Alfa Advanced Research Project as a resident student.

References

1. Trevor Phillips-Levine, Andrew Tenbusch, and Walker D Miles. “Gilded Capability: Overinvestment and the Survivability Paradox.” War on the Rocks, February 12, 2026. https://warontherocks.com/2026/02/gilded-capability-overinvestment-and-the-survivability-paradox/.

2. Trevor Phillips-Levine. “Return of the Gunfighters.” Behind The Front, August 15, 2024. https://behindthefront.substack.com/p/return-of-the-gunfighters.

3. Mark Temnycky. “Ukraine Has Innovated Naval Warfare – Center for Maritime Strategy.” Center for Maritime Strategy – Center for Maritime Strategy, July 25, 2025. https://centerformaritimestrategy.org/publications/ukraine-has-innovated-naval-warfare/.

4. Stefano D’Urso and Andrea Daolio. “Ukrainian Surface Drone Equipped with R-73 Air-to-Air Missiles Shot down Russian MI-8 Helicopter.” The Aviationist, January 1, 2025. https://theaviationist.com/2024/12/31/ukrainian-magura-usv-r-73-vs-mi-8-helicopter/.

5. Matthew Bint and Fabian Hinz. “Russia Doubles down on the Shahed.” The international institute for strategic studies, April 14, 2025. https://www.iiss.org/online-analysis/military-balance/2025/04/russia-doubles-down-on-the-shahed/.

6. Vytis Andreika. “Russia’s Changes in the Conduct of War Based on Lessons from Ukraine Adapting Technology, Force Structures, and the Defense Industry.” Military Review, 5, 105, no. September-October 2025 (September 2025): 109–24. https://doi.org/Professional Bulletin 100-25-09/10.

7. Trevor Phillips-Levine and Andrew Tenbusch. “Allied Arsenal: Building Strength through Shared Production.” War on the Rocks, July 22, 2025. https://warontherocks.com/2025/07/allied-arsenal-building-strength-through-shared-production/.

8. No author. “AGM UGM RGM-84 Harpoon Anti Ship Missile SSM SLAM-ER.” n.d. www.seaforces.org.https://www.seaforces.org/wpnsys/SURFACE/RGM-84-Harpoon.htm.

9. No author. “Missiles of China | Missile Threat.” 2018. Missile Threat. 2018. https://missilethreat.csis.org/country/china/.

10. Andrew Rolander. “The Dangerous Collapse of US Strategic Sealift Capacity | the Strategist.” The Strategist. March 25, 2025. https://www.aspistrategist.org.au/the-dangerous-collapse-of-us-strategic-sealift-capacity/.

11. Joe Emmett, Trevor Ball, and N.R. Jenzen-Jones. n.d. Review of Shahed-131 & -136 UAVs: A Visual Guide. Open Source Munitions Portal. Open Source Munitions Portal. Accessed February 12, 2026. https://osmp.ngo/collection/shahed-131-136-uavs-a-visual-guide/.

12. Theresa Hitchens, “With the Boom for Solid Rocket Motors for Missiles, a Perilous Crunch in the Supply Chain,” Breaking Defense, January 12, 2026, https://breakingdefense.com/2026/01/with-the-boom-for-solid-rocket-motors-for-missiles-a-perilous-crunch-in-the-supply-chain.

13. No author. “US Develops Lucas Kamikaze Drone to Surpass Iranian Shahed as Loitering Munitions Become Core to Future Warfare.” US develops LUCAS kamikaze drone to surpass Iranian Shahed-136 as loitering munitions become core to future warfare, July 18, 2025. https://armyrecognition.com/news/army-news/2025/us-develops-lucas-kamikaze-drone-to-surpass-iranian-shahed-136-as-loitering-munitions-become-core-to-future-warfare.

14. Shield AI, “V-Bat,” accessed January 26, 2026, https://shield.ai/v-bat.

15. Anduril Industries, “Altius,” accessed January 26, 2026, https://www.anduril.com/altius.

16. Anduril Industries, “Barracuda,” accessed January 26, 2026, https://www.anduril.com/barracuda.

17. Hugo Bachega, “Russian Air Strikes Get Deadlier and Bigger, Hitting Ukraine’s Very Heart,” BBC News, September 9, 2025, https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/cgrqwpee05ro.

18. Sam Lair. “Shallow Ramparts: Air and Missile Defenses in the June 2025 Israel-Iran War – Foreign Policy Research Institute.” Foreign Policy Research Institute, October 17, 2025. https://www.fpri.org/article/2025/10/shallow-ramparts-air-and-missile-defenses-in-the-june-2025-israel-iran-war/.

19. Ibid.

20. Rising, David, and Sam Metz. “Iran’s Military Degraded by 12-Day War with Israel, but Still Has Significant Capabilities.” AP News, February 13, 2026. https://apnews.com/article/iran-israel-us-trump-military-carrier-war-931c25411eeef7d8cee679b3544b792a.

21. Sam Lair. “Shallow Ramparts: Air and Missile Defenses in the June 2025 Israel-Iran War – Foreign Policy Research Institute.” Foreign Policy Research Institute, October 17, 2025. https://www.fpri.org/article/2025/10/shallow-ramparts-air-and-missile-defenses-in-the-june-2025-israel-iran-war/.

22. No author. “Hypersonic Weapons: Background and Issues for Congress.” February 20, 2026. https://www.congress.gov/crs-product/R45811.

23. Sarah Burford. Review of Tanker Ships Deliver Fuel to MSC Ships via CONSOL in Support of RIMPAC 2022. U.S. Navy. U.S. Navy. July 25, 2022. https://www.navy.mil/Press-Office/News-Stories/Article/3103496/tanker-ships-deliver-fuel-to-msc-ships-via-consol-in-support-of-rimpac-2022/.

24. No author. “US Develops Lucas Kamikaze Drone to Surpass Iranian Shahed as Loitering Munitions Become Core to Future Warfare.” US develops LUCAS kamikaze drone to surpass Iranian Shahed-136 as loitering munitions become core to future warfare, July 18, 2025. https://armyrecognition.com/news/army-news/2025/us-develops-lucas-kamikaze-drone-to-surpass-iranian-shahed-136-as-loitering-munitions-become-core-to-future-warfare.

25. Shield AI, “V-Bat,” accessed January 26, 2026, https://shield.ai/v-bat.

26. Anduril Industries, “Altius,” accessed January 26, 2026, https://www.anduril.com/altius.

27. Anduril Industries, “Barracuda,” accessed January 26, 2026, https://www.anduril.com/barracuda.

28. No author. “AV Switchblade 600 Loitering Munition System Achieves Pivotal Milestone with First-Ever Air Launch from MQ-9A.” AeroVironment, Inc., September 10, 2025. https://www.avinc.com/resources/press-releases/view/av-switchblade-600-loitering-munition-system-achieves-pivotal-milestone-with-first-ever-air-launch-from-mq-9a.

29. No author. “MQ-9 Reaper.” Air Force, January 2025. https://www.af.mil/About-Us/Fact-Sheets/Display/Article/104470/mq-9-reaper/.

Featured Photo: A U.S. LUCAS drone on a tarmac in the U.S. Central Command area of responsibility. (Photo via Wikimedia Commons)

A Concept of Operations for Achieving a Navy Fleet of 500 Ships

By Captain George Galdorisi

The U. S. Navy stands at the precipice of a new era of technology advancement. In an address at a military-industry conference, the then-U.S. Chief of Naval Operations, Admiral Michael Gilday, revealed the Navy’s goal to grow to 500 ships, to include 350 crewed ships and 150 uncrewed maritime vessels. This plan has been dubbed the “hybrid fleet.” In an address at the Reagan National Defense Forum, his successor, Admiral Lisa Franchetti, cited the work of the Navy’s Unmanned Task Force, as well numerous exercises, experiments and demonstrations where uncrewed surface vessels were put in the hands of Sailors and Marines, all designed to advance the journey to achieve the Navy’s hybrid fleet.

More recently, other speeches and interviews addressing the number of uncrewed surface vessels the Navy intends to field culminated in the issuance of the Chief of Naval Operations Force Design 2045, and subsequently the Chief of Naval Operations Navigation Plan for America’s Warfighting Navy, both of which call for 350 crewed ships and 150 large uncrewed maritime vessels. These documents provide the clearest indication yet of the Navy’s plans for a future fleet populated by large numbers of uncrewed surface vessels (USVs).

The reason for this commitment to uncrewed maritime vessels is clear. During the height of the Reagan Defense Buildup in the mid-1980s, the U.S. Navy evolved a strategy to build a “600-ship Navy.” That effort resulted in a total number of Navy ships that reached 594 in 1987. That number has declined steadily during the past three-and-one-half decades, and today the Navy has less than half the number of ships than it had then. However, the rapid growth of the technologies that make uncrewed surface vessels increasingly capable and affordable has provided the Navy with a potential way to put more hulls in the water.

However, the U.S. Congress has been reluctant to authorize the Navy’s planned investment of billions of dollars in USVs until the Service can come up with a concept-of-operations (CONOPS) for using them. Congress has a point. The Navy has announced plans to procure large numbers of uncrewed systems—especially large and medium uncrewed surface vessels—but a CONOPS, in even the most basic form, has not yet emerged. Additionally, while the composition of the future Navy’s crewed vessels is relatively well understood—based on ships being built and being planned—what those uncrewed maritime vessels will look like, let alone what they will do, has yet to be fully determined.

That said, the Navy has taken several actions to define what uncrewed maritime vessels will do and thus accelerate the journey to have uncrewed platforms populate the fleet. These include publishing an Unmanned Campaign Framework, standing up an Unmanned Task Force, establishing Surface Development Squadron One in San Diego and Surface Vessel Division One in Port Hueneme, CA, and conducting a wide range of exercises, experiments and demonstrations where operators have had the opportunity to evaluate uncrewed maritime vessels.

All these initiatives will serve the Navy well in evolving a convincing CONOPS to describe how these innovative platforms can be leveraged to achieve a hybrid fleet and gain a warfighting advantage over high-end adversaries. Fleshing out how this is to be done will require that the Navy describe how these platforms will get to the operating area where they are needed, as well as what missions they will perform once they arrive there.

A key part of this evolving CONOPS will involve integrating crewed ships and uncrewed maritime vessels. This means that both will need to operate as a synergistic fighting force, not all merely steaming together to perform a mission. This will require leveraging emerging technologies that can connect these platforms in a fashion now called man-machine teaming.

U.S. Navy’s Commitment to Uncrewed Maritime Vessels

 It is beyond the scope of this article to attempt to detail the reasons for the precipitous decline in the number of crewed ships. Indeed, the most recent Navy Long-Range Shipbuilding Plan details 19 ship decommissionings during this fiscal year, more than the number of ships being commissioned. Many—especially the U.S. Congress—have encouraged the Navy to increase the number of ships it fields. Add to this such factors as the increasing cost to build ships, and especially the cost to man these vessels (Seventy percent of the total ownership costs of surface ships is the cost of personnel to operate these vessels over their lifecycle), and the fact that the Navy is literally wearing these ships out more rapidly than anticipated in order to meet the increasing demands of U.S. Combatant Commanders, and it is easy to see why the Navy has difficulty growing the number of crewed surface vessels. 

The rapid growth of the technologies that make uncrewed surface vessels increasingly capable and affordable has provided the Navy with a potential way to put more hulls in the water. To support these goals regarding large numbers of uncrewed maritime platforms populating the Fleet, the Navy established an Unmanned Task Force to provide stewardship for Navy-wide efforts to accelerate efforts regarding uncrewed systems. From all indications, it seems that for the U.S. Navy, the intent is to go all-in on uncrewed maritime vessels and field a hybrid force of crewed ships and uncrewed maritime systems. Importantly, the intent is to have these uncrewed systems work in conjunction with manned platforms and achieve the goal of manned-unmanned teaming.

In a presentation at a Center for Strategic and International Studies/U.S. Naval Institute forum, Vice Admiral Jimmy Pitts, deputy chief of naval operations for warfighting requirements and capabilities (N9), put the focus on uncrewed maritime systems in these terms: “We are leading the way with unmanned systems. We are leveraging the success of the Navy’s unmanned task force as well as the disruptive capabilities office. Our goal is to get unmanned surface system solutions to the Fleet within the next two years.” Admiral Pitts went on to ask the questions: “What will unmanned systems do operationally? How will they get to the war at sea and littoral operating areas? How will they stay in those areas and remain ready for conflict?”

In an article in U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings, the U.S. Indo-Pacific Commander, Admiral Samuel Paparo, put the emphasis on scaling robotic and autonomous systems in an operational context, noting:

The CNO is focusing on rapidly developing, fielding, and integrating UxSs. These systems will augment the multi-mission conventional force to increase lethality, sensing, and survivability. Project 33 [part of the Navigation Plan] will allow the Navy to operate in more areas with greater capability. Unmanned systems provide the ability to project fires and effects dynamically, at any time, from multiple axes, and with mass.

Recognizing that the United States is in an “AI arms-race” with our peer adversaries, a report by the Navy’s Science and Technology Board: The Path Forward on Unmanned Systems, advises the Navy to fully leverage AI-technologies, noting: “As they design, develop and acquire new systems, DON will want to take advantage of rapidly changing technology such as AI and autonomy.” This builds on the Navy’s desire to lower total operating costs by moving beyond the current “one UxS, multiple joysticks, multiple operators” paradigm module that exists today.

A Concept of Operations for Getting Uncrewed Surface Vessels to the Fight

The concept of operations proposed is to marry various size surface, subsurface and aerial uncrewed vehicles to perform missions that the U.S. Navy has—and will continue to have—as the Hybrid Fleet evolves. The Navy can use evolving large uncrewed surface vessels as a “truck” to move smaller USVs, UUVs and UAVs into the battle space in the increasingly contested littoral environment. The Navy has several alternatives for this platform:

  • The Navy’s program of record LUSV. The Navy envisions these LUSVs as being 200 feet to 300 feet in length and having full load displacements of 1,000 tons to 2,000 tons, which would make them the size of a corvette.
  • Unmanned Surface Vessel Division One (USVDIV-1) has stewardship for two surrogates for LUSVs, the Ranger and Nomad, as well as two MUSV prototypes, Sea Hunter and Seahawk. The Navy was sufficiently confident in the operation of its LUSV and MUSV prototypes to deploy them to a recent international Rim of the Pacific (RIMPAC) exercise.
  • The MARTAC T82 Leviathan, a scaled-up version of the T38 Devil Ray, is an MUSV capable of either carrying an approximately 35,000-pound payload or, alternatively, carrying smaller craft and launching them toward the objective area.

While there are a plethora of important Navy missions this integrated combination of uncrewed platforms can accomplish, this article will focus on two: intelligence surveillance and reconnaissance (ISR) and mine countermeasures (MCM). There are many large, medium, small and ultra-small uncrewed systems that can be adopted for these missions. The technical challenge remains that they must be designed to ensure that the multiple sized UxSs associated with these missions can be adapted to work together in a common mission goal. 

Rather than speaking in hypotheticals as to how uncrewed vessels might be employed for these two missions, this article will offer concrete examples, using COTS uncrewed systems that have been employed in recent Navy and Marine Corps events. In each case, these systems not only demonstrated mission accomplishment, but also the hull, mechanical and electrical (HME) attributes and maturity that Congress is demanding.

While there are a wide range of medium uncrewed surface vessels (MUSVs) that can potentially meet the U.S. Navy’s needs, there are three that are furthest along in the development cycle. These MUSVs cover a range of sizes, hull types and capabilities. They are:

  • The Leidos Sea Hunter is the largest of the three. The Sea Hunter is a 132-foot-long trimaran (a central hull with two outriggers). 
  • The Textron monohull Common Unmanned Surface Vessel (CUSV), now renamed MCM-USV, features a modular, open architecture design.
  • The Maritime Tactical Systems Inc. (MARTAC), catamaran hull uncrewed surface vessels (USV) include the Devil Ray T24 and T38 craft. The two Devil Ray USVs, along with their smaller MANTAS T12 USV, all feature a modular and open architecture design. 

All of these MUSVs are viable candidates to be part of an integrated uncrewed solution CONOPS. I will use the MANTAS, Devil Ray and Leviathan craft for a number of reasons. First, they come in different sizes with the same HME attributes. Second, the Sea Hunter is simply too large to fit into the LUSVs the Navy is currently considering. Third, the MCM-USV is the MUSV of choice for the Littoral Combat Ship (LCS) Mine-Countermeasures Mission Package, and all MCM-USVs scheduled to be procured are committed to this program.

If the U.S. Navy wants to keep its multi-billion-dollar capital ships out of harm’s way, it will need to surge uncrewed maritime vessels into the contested battlespace while its crewed ships stay out of range of adversary anti-access (A2/AD) systems. This will require robust command and control systems,

Depending on the size that is ultimately procured, the LUSV can carry several T38 Devil Ray uncrewed surface vessels and deliver them, largely covertly, to a point near the intended area of operations. The T38 can then be sent independently to perform the ISR mission, or alternatively, can launch one or more T12 MANTAS USVs to perform that mission. Building on work conducted by the Navy laboratory community and sponsored by the Office of Naval Research, the T38 or T12 will have the ability to launch unmanned aerial vessels to conduct overhead ISR. 

For the MCM mission, the LUSV can deliver several T38s equipped with mine-hunting and mine-clearing systems (all of which are COTS platforms tested extensively in Navy exercises). These vessels can then undertake the “dull, dirty and dangerous” work previously conducted by Sailors who had to operate in the minefield. Given the large mine inventory of peer and near-peer adversaries, this methodology may well be the only way to clear mines safely.

Operational Scenario for an Integrated Crewed-Uncrewed Mission

This scenario and CONOPS are built around an Expeditionary Strike Group (ESG) that is underway in the Western Pacific. The ESG is on routine patrol five hundred nautical miles from the nearest landfall. An incident occurs in their operating area and the strike group is requested to (1) obtain reconnaissance of a near-shore littoral area, and (2) determine if the entrance to a specific bay has been mined to prevent ingress. The littoral coastline covers two hundred nautical miles. This area must be reconnoitered within twenty-four hours without the use of air assets.

Command staff decides to dispatch the three LUSVs for the mission. Two LUSVs are each configured with four T38-ISR craft and the third LUSV is configured with four T38-MCM vessels. The single supervisory control station for the three LUSVs is manned in the mothership.

The three LUSV depart the strike group steaming together in a preset autonomous pattern for two hundred and fifty nautical miles to a waypoint that is central to the two hundred nautical mile ISR scan area, two hundred and fifty nautical miles from the shore. At this waypoint, the LUSV will stop and dispatch the smaller T38 craft and then wait at this location for their return. Steaming at a cruise speed of twenty-five knots, the waypoint is reached in about ten hours.

  • Two T38-ISR craft are launched from each of the two LUSVs. The autonomous mission previously downloaded specifies a waypoint location along the coast for each of the four craft. These waypoints are fifty nautical miles apart from each other, indicating that each of the four T38 craft will have an ISR mission of fifty nautical miles to cover.
  • Two T38-MCM craft are launched from the third LUSV. The autonomous mission previously downloaded has them transit independently along different routes to two independent waypoints just offshore of the suspected mine presence area where they will commence mine-like object detection operations.
  • In this manner, each of the six craft will transit independently and autonomously to their next waypoint which will be their mission execution starting point.
  • Transit from the LUSV launch point, depending on route, will be about two hundred and fifty to three hundred nautical miles to their near-shore waypoints. Transit will be at seventy to eighty knots to their mission start waypoint near the coast. Transit time is between four and five hours.
  • The plan is for each of the T38-ISR craft to complete their ISR scan in four to five hours each and for the two T38-MCM craft to jointly scan the bottom and the water column for the presence of mine-like objects in four to five hours at a scan speed of six to eight knots.

The MANTAS and Devil Ray craft transit to the objective area and conduct their ISR and MCM missions. The timeline for the entire mission is as follows:

  • LUSV detach strike group to T38 launch point and launch six T38: – 10-12 hours.
  • T38 transit from launch point to mission ISR/MCM start waypoints: – 4-5 hours.
  • ISR Mission and MCM mission time from start to complete: – 4-5 hours.
  • T38 transit from mission completion point back to LUSV for recovery: – 4-5 hours.
  • LUSV recover T38s and return to strike group formation – 10-12 hours.

Even with the ESG five hundred nautical miles from shore, the strike group commander has the results of the ISR and MCM scan of the shoreline littoral area within approximately twenty-four hours after the departure of the LUSVs from the strike group. 

A Bright Future for Uncrewed Surface Vessels

This is not a platform-specific solution, but rather a concept. When Navy operators see a capability with different size uncrewed COTS platforms in the water successfully performing the missions presented in this article, they will likely press industry to produce even more-capable platforms to perform these tasks. This, in turn, will enable the Navy to field a capable Hybrid Fleet that will be the Navy’s Future Force.

While evolutionary in nature, this disruptive capability delivered using emerging technologies can provide the U.S. Navy with near-term solutions to vexing operational challenges, while demonstrating to a skeptical Congress that the Navy does have a concept-of-operations for the uncrewed systems it wants to procure. 

Captain George Galdorisi (U.S. Navy – retired) is a career naval aviator and national security professional. During his 30-year career he had four tours in command and served as a carrier strike group chief of staff for five years. Additionally, he led the U.S. delegation for military-to-military talks with the Chinese Navy. He is the Emeritus Director of Strategic Assessments and Technical Futures at the Naval Information Warfare Center Pacific. He is the author of seventeen books, including four New York Times bestsellers. His most recent novel, Fire and Ice, was eerily prescient as it foresaw Russia’s invasion of Ukraine.

Featured Image: T38 Devil Ray USV (Martac photo)