By Commander Christopher Nelson, USN

I recently had the opportunity to correspond with Rear Admiral Mike Studeman (Ret.), who retired after over 35 years of distinguished service as a naval intelligence officer. He has authored a compelling book on leadership entitled, Might of the Chain: Forging Leaders of Iron Integrity. What stood out to me was how he skillfully wove personal experiences into his leadership lessons. The book not only offers valuable insights into leadership, but also provides a rare, humanizing glimpse into his personal journey. Our discussion explores both the practical advice and the personal stories that have shaped him, offering a deeper understanding of the leader behind the lessons.

Your book is rich with memorable quotes and epigrams. It is also full of short, interesting stories about past experiences. Why write this book, and do you journal? How do you capture in writing what matters to you for later use?  

Thank you for the positive feedback on my leadership book. I wrote the book out of concern for growing dysfunction in American society and the failures of some in positions of power to lead properly—in principled, enlightened, and inspiring ways grounded in character, accountability, and fundamental decency.

I have been writing in personal journals since I joined the Navy (so for over 35 years now), making entries once or twice a month to record something worth remembering about family or life’s adventures. I have also kept separate professional journals to capture the wisdom of the world as I encountered it, no matter what the source. I found that manually copying quotes or insightful intellectual tidbits into a separate journal served as a form of memory reinforcement. Keeping information all in one handy place also facilitated ease of retrieval. The payoff over the years has been awesome, and I am glad I stay disciplined in using this expansive journaling practice.

What is the most underrated leadership quality in your opinion? And what is the most overrated?

I think authenticity is the most underrated leadership trait. Hollywood has created an impression that ideal leaders are hard-charging, independent, charismatic, and fearless individuals. In fact, leaders come in all forms and shapes—each can be highly successful in using their own combination of strengths to inspire others and achieve amazing results. The best leaders are always learning from others, but they know that their journey is a honing, not a disowning process. They are comfortable in their own skins. Being authentic is being true to you, taking pride in your origin story, and using it as a source of supreme foundational strength for continuing growth and impact.

The most overrated leadership quality may be extroversion. Over the long haul, I have seen a greater number of more effective introverted leaders than extroverted ones. I think this might be because extroverts sometimes try too hard to be everything to everyone. Introverts usually tend to be truer to themselves, which ultimately earns more trust from followers.    

If your actions caused someone to lose trust in your leadership and you were aware of this, what steps would you take immediately to begin rebuilding that trust? What advice would you give to others in a similar situation? 

If a leader is acting at all times in an ethical, caring, open, and constructive way then the likelihood of losing people’s trust is substantially lower. Trust can erode for any number of reasons. If people suspect the leader may not be well-intentioned, if they are not given an opportunity to understand the “why” behind directed actions, if the method for achieving a given outcome is questionable, the list goes on.

If I encountered such a situation, I would seek to understand the grievance and address it forthrightly with the people concerned. Many trust issues can be nipped in the bud by a leader simply showing up to listen to their people face-to-face and demonstrating an ability to factor in their concerns. Ignoring subordinates’ concerns, viewing complaints as illegitimate, and cutting off opportunities for healthy dialogue is the quickest way to fall off the trust cliff.

How do you differentiate between intuition and bias in your decision-making process? 

I love this question. All experienced leaders intuit to some degree and grow to trust their instincts over time. However, this can be a double-edged sword as you imply. Leaders can grow overconfident, even arrogant, about what they think. The key to guarding against bias is subjecting ideas derived from individual intuition to the scrutiny of truthtellers in one’s circle of confidants, colleagues, and friends. The more diverse and widely experienced that circle, and the greater the willingness of a leader to take advice, the less likely bias will take root. At a minimum, a leader listening to the inputs of others will become more sensitized to second or third-order impacts and find themselves better equipped to anticipate dangers along any chosen path.

Can you share a time when your intuition proved right, but had to defend it against perceptions of bias? 

My intuition after the Tiananmen Square massacre in 1989 was that a China led by the CCP would be the next major dissatisfied, powerful, and globally revisionist nation-state challenge after the fall of the Soviet Union. That proved correct. During my career, I faced repeated perceptions of Indo-Pacific bias as I tried to articulate emerging dangers. It was hard to watch China’s rise remain largely unaddressed except by the excessively wishful thinkers in the engagement crowd while America remained embroiled in the Middle East. China used 20 years of American distraction in the Global War on Terror to gain incredible levels of power and global influence to undermine the West and the current international order.

What is the best book about leadership you have read – but it was not explicitly a leadership book?  

I am a fan of Alfred Lansing’s Endurance, describing Sir Ernest Shackleton’s trans-Antarctic expedition gone terribly wrong and the leadership he demonstrated to save his crew against incredible odds.

If you were a member of an interview panel, what is one question you would ask about someone’s leadership style that could lead to three distinct reactions: being immediately dissuaded from hiring them, feeling neutral or unimpressed, or being instantly impressed?

“Describe your greatest leadership success.” You can quickly tell by someone’s answer whether they focus on their individual efforts or a team’s. Do they make themselves the hero of their own story or do they humbly take pride in the collective contributions of a group and describe how acts of togetherness overcame a great challenge? You will get your answer in the first two sentences of the reply.

Senior executives in the private sector often work with leadership or skill coaches to refine their abilities. Atul Gawande, surgeon and writer for The New Yorker, wrote a compelling piece a few years ago about his experience using a retired surgeon as a coach. This coach observed him in the operating room—how he led his team, conducted surgeries, and interacted with nurses. DoD seniors do engage with “senior mentors” – retired flag officers, generals, and civilians. But this is often done in specific venues, not say, someone spending a week shadowing a senior. What are your thoughts on coaching and mentorship? 

I agree that quiet shadowing during a leader’s day-to-day activities over the course of many days can yield important insights into how someone operates. I say this with caution, however. Sometimes it can be misleading if a shadowing period occurs during a period of quiescence when the leader is not facing high-pressure moments or a crisis where a leader’s behavior might alter in significant ways. This is one of the reasons why retired senior coaching in the military is normally done during exercises, which induce stress and thorny situations that can be a better test of a leader’s full range of capabilities.

Superb leaders know that personalized coaching is a rare luxury and therefore encourage their personal staffs to provide unsolicited advice on their performance. If, as a leader, you can build psychological safety for those around you and encourage them to speak truth to power, they can create an omnipresence of collective coaching that can benefit everyone.   

You have been married to your wife for over 30 years and raised two boys. How do you think about being a husband and a father, and how leading at work might differ from how you think about leading – and following – at home? 

Lynne and I have been happily married for almost 33 years. We started dating in college when we were only 19. I trust her implicitly and she is the most caring and intelligent person I know. She was selected into the Phi Beta Kappa Honor Society at William & Mary—I was not. Because Lynne is also an incredible mother, I usually follow her lead on the home front. Her intuition and instincts are impressive and I continue to learn from her in how she employs her high emotional quotient to navigate a wide range of intra-family issues. What I learned through active followership at home, if you want to put it that way, I added to my kitbag of skills at work. I think fatherhood and marriage can make you a better leader if you remain mindful of continually learning from all those roles.

How do you think people best adopt leadership principles and tools that fit their style or personality?  

People should pay attention to the lessons of other leaders in their midst and experiment with techniques to see what works for them. Biographies of impressive leaders and books on leadership are helpful. In my book, I advise putting your own imprint on any borrowed advice. People should follow their instincts in this respect, but always pay particular attention to how their different approaches affect other people. Maintaining a sense of awareness of others and about yourself, without being overly self-conscious, can provide the right sensory inputs to enable fine tuning. Add your own stylistic stamp to anything you learn and apply, because in the end people still want your authenticity to shine through.

RADM Mike Studeman, USN, retired in 2023 after 35 years in the Navy. He led thousands of intelligence professionals at sea and ashore. He commanded a Global Communications Center, the Cyber Intelligence Center, and the Office of Naval Intelligence. He was also Intelligence Director for the Indo-Pacific and South America regions. In 2005 he was presidentially appointed as a White House Fellow, the nation’s premier program for leadership and public service. He currently consults, speaks, and is a National Security Fellow for the MITRE Corporation. He and his college sweetheart, Lynne, have two sons and live in Virginia.

Commander Christopher Nelson, USN, is a career intelligence officer and a regular contributor to CIMSEC.

The questions and comments here are presented in a personal capacity and do not necessarily represent those of the Department of Defense or the U.S. Navy.

Featured Image: Rear Adm. Mike Studeman assumed command of the Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI), and directorship of the National Maritime Intelligence-Integration Office (NMIO), during a ceremony in Suitland, Md., Aug. 1. (U.S. Navy photo)

By CDR Christopher Nelson, USN

Author David Alan Johnson discusses his new book, Admiral Canaris: How Hitler’s Chief of Intelligence Betrayed the Nazis. It is a well-written synthesis of the life of Admiral Wilhelm Canaris, who served as the chief of military intelligence for Nazi Germany from 1935-1944. While Canaris might be less well-known than some of the more senior Nazi officials from World War II, his unique position and acts of sabotage make him among the most consequential resistance leaders during the war. Admiral Canaris’ excellent skills in deception, subterfuge, political infighting, along with his eventual distaste that turned into hatred of Hitler’s regime, make for a fascinating story.

To begin, provide us with a brief biographical sketch of Admiral Canaris. How do we place him in context among other Nazi and Wehrmacht leaders?

In common with the majority of German leaders during the Hitler era, both political and military, William Canaris had an excellent record as a junior officer during the First World War. He received commendation both as an active officer with the fleet and as an intelligence officer. He was presented with the Iron Cross 1^st Class by Kaiser Wilhelm. Most of the leaders of the German forces were also decorated veterans, including Adolf Hitler. Canaris hated the Weimar Republic and the Treaty of Versailles. To Canaris’ way of thinking, the Weimar Republic was a foreign administration that had been forced upon Germany by the Allied powers, and the Versailles Treaty severely limited the size of the German navy and prohibited the building of submarines – Canaris had been a submarine commander during the war. When Hitler became Führer during the 1930s, he promised to re-arm Germany which included rebuilding the German Navy. Along with all other high-ranking German officers at the time, Wilhelm Canaris was in complete agreement with Hitler and his plans for a New Germany. Adolf Hitler was a strong-willed German nationalist who planned to form a new government in Germany, abolish the Versailles Treaty, and create another German fleet, complete with submarines. As far as Canaris was concerned, Hitler was exactly what Germany needed.

What specifically led to Canaris taking charge of the Abwehr – German military intelligence?

Wilhelm Canaris had been the intelligence officer aboard the cruiser Dresden during the First World War, which gave him a working background in that field. But his first link with the Abwehr came in 1934, when he was captain of the battleship Schlesien. Captain Canaris did not get along with his immediate superior, Rear Admiral Max Bastian. In an effort to get rid of Captain Canaris, Admiral Bastian recommended that Canaris be assigned to an administrative post – possibly the Abwehr. But instead, the German admiralty sent Canaris to Fort Sweinemünde, a seaport on the Baltic Sea coast. This turned out to be a dead-end job; Canaris was not happy with this assignment.

But less than a month after reporting for duty at Fort Sweinemünde, Canaris became the beneficiary of a happy accident – the head of the Abwehr, Captain Conrad Patzig, resigned his position because he was not able to get along with the director of the newly-created Sicherheitsdienst (SD), the ambitious Reinhard Heydrich. Before leaving his position, Captain Patzig recommended that Wilhelm Canaris replace him as the Abwehr’s director. Canaris not only had the qualifications for the job but, just as important, he had been friends with Reinhard Heydrich back in 1923, when Heydrich had been a 19-year-old naval cadet aboard Canaris’ training ship. Wilhelm Canaris became the Abwehr chief because of several coincidences. He became the official head of the Abwehr on January 1, 1935.

What made Canaris an exceptional intelligence officer?

Captain Conrad Patzig, Wilhelm Canaris’ predecessor as head of the Abwehr, noted that he did not know of anyone else who had Canaris’ talent for deception and subterfuge – two vital attributes for an intelligence officer, especially in wartime. During the First World War, when he was intelligence officer of the cruiser Dresden, Lieutenant Canaris informed a radio station in Brazil that the Dresden would soon be returning to Germany. He knew that this message would be picked up by British Intelligence. But the Dresden did not go back to Germany; she continued to operate in the vicinity of Montevideo, Uruguay. British Intelligence did not discover the ruse until the Dresden sank two British merchantmen off the coast of Uruguay. The Dresden’s captain was happy to learn that his young intelligence officer had such a talent for duplicity. Canaris would go on to use this talent against Hitler and the Nazi regime in years to come.

How did Canaris balance the Abwehr’s intelligence work with the Nazi Gestapo and Security Service?

He did not “balance” his intelligence work with the other agencies. He basically set out to confuse Hitler and his generals by sending reports that invalidated information supplied by other agencies. This not only served to confuse the high command, but also led to Hitler losing faith in his intelligence services in general. His first opportunity to mislead Hitler came early on during the war, in September 1939. Admiral Canaris advised Hitler that French troops and artillery were gathering in the vicinity of Saarbrücken, which indicated that a French offensive would be taking place nearby. This news took Hither completely by surprise. He replied that he could not imagine a French attack anywhere near Saarbrücken. German defenses were particularly strong in that region, he said, and refused to believe the admiral.

Hitler’s opinion of Canaris would continue to deteriorate as the war went on and Canaris continued to make intelligence “mistakes.” He withheld information regarding “Operation Torch,” the Allied invasion of North Africa, which took place in November 1942. A task force of British and American warships and troop transports sailed right through the Straits of Gibraltar and landed on the North African beaches without the German High command knowing anything about the landings in advance. By the spring of 1943, all Axis forces had either surrendered or had been withdrawn from North Africa. A little over a year later, in January 1944, Admiral Canaris also contributed to the success of the landings at Anzio. He informed Feldmarschall Albert Kesselring that there was no need to fear an Allied invasion anytime in the near future. At that exact moment, about 250 British and American ships were approaching the town of Anzio on the western coast of Italy, carrying 50,000 men of the US Fifth Army and the British Fifteenth Army Group. Anzio was one of the largest amphibious operations of the war. Because of these apparent blunders, Hitler and his generals had lost all faith in the German intelligence services, not just in Admiral Canaris. Canaris had misled and misinformed them too many times.

Let’s dive into the reasons Canaris changed his mind about Hitler and began to subvert Nazi policies and goals. Canaris, initially it sounds, believed stridently in German nationalism and was a supporter of the Nazi regime. But he changed. What happened?

Admiral Canaris’ support of Adolf Hitler and the Nazi regime began to change during the early part of 1938. This change of heart was brought about by two separate incidents. The first incident involved the deliberate disgracing of Hitler’s highest-ranking general, Werner von Blomberg. General von Blomberg had recently married a much younger woman, Erna Gruhn. Because of von Blomberg’s position as Minister of Defense, the wedding was a leading social event; Adolf Hitler himself was one of the wedding guests. A short time after the wedding, Erna Gruhn was discovered to have quite a vivid police record – she was a convicted prostitute and had also been a model for pornographic photos. When Adolf Hitler was told of this, he was livid with anger, but he also realized that this incident created an opportunity for himself. He demanded von Blomberg’s resignation on the grounds that he had committed an immoral act by marrying a prostitute. After the general submitted his resignation, Hitler assumed his title of Defense Minister. Hitler had been looking for an excuse to solidify his control over the armed forces; the von Blomberg scandal gave him a ready-made excuse. General von Blomberg resigned in January 1938; Adolf Hitler immediately replaced him as supreme commander.

At the same time as the von Blomberg incident, the Wehrmacht’s commander-in-chief was removed from his post as the result of another scandal – this one was completely fabricated. General Werner von Fritsch did not agree with Hitler’s aggressive policy toward the Soviet Union. He was afraid that Hitler’s belligerence would lead to war with Russia, a war he knew Germany could not win. Hitler did not appreciate von Fritsch’s opposition, and decided that the general had to be dismissed from his post.

The method used to dispose of General von Fritsch was both simple and brutal. He was charged with having homosexual relationships, which was a criminal offense in Nazi Germany. A witness testified before both Adolf Hitler and Hermann Göring that von Fritsch had a homosexual affair with a young boy in Potsdam. General von Fritsch vehemently denied the charge, and was allowed to be tried by a court of honor. The trial acquitted him of all charges, but the scandal ruined his reputation and ended his career – just as Hitler had planned. The accusations had been a complete set-up. It had been a different Captain von Frisch who had the homosexual affair, not the General von Fritsch. Hitler and the Gestapo knew this, but allowed the charges to be filed just the same. In February 1938, General von Fritsch resigned his position in disgrace. Hitler had taken another step toward solidifying his complete control of all German armed forces.

News of the Blomberg-Fritsch scandal was the leading story throughout Germany, as well as in the international press. American correspondent William L. Shirer was in Vienna at the time and read all about it. “Today’s papers say that Blomberg and Fritsch, the two men who have built up the German army, are out,” he wrote in his diary. “Hitler himself becomes a sort of ‘Supreme War Lord,’ assuming the powers of Minister of Defense.”

Admiral Canaris was absolutely stunned by the news that Hitler had ruined the careers and lives of two of his most senior officers, all for the purpose of supreme command of German forces. Until the Blomberg-Fritsch incident, the admiral admired Hitler and considered him an honorable and patriotic head of state who had restored Germany’s economy and military power. But Canaris no longer trusted Adolf Hitler, that although Hitler made many stirring speeches about Germany, he only had his own self-interest at heart. “This was the time when Canaris began to turn from Hitler,” a friend recalled. “If you have to mark any one event as the crisis of loyalty between Canaris and Hitler, this is it.”

But the incident that decisively turned Canaris against Hitler was Kristallnacht, or the “Night of Broken Glass,” which took place on November 9, 1938. On this night, coordinated attacks were carried out against synagogues and Jewish-owned businesses throughout Germany. Hundreds of synagogues were vandalized, along with thousands of Jewish shops and businesses. Fragments of broken glass from smashed windows covered the streets and pavements. The light reflected by the shards reminded bystanders of crystal ornaments, which gave rise to the name “Crystal Night.” Over the years, the name has become synonymous with the barbarity of the Hitler regime.

Along with the Blomberg-Fritsch scandal, Kristallnacht destroyed Admiral Canaris’ faith in both Adolf Hitler and the Nazi Party. Hitler ruined the lives of two senior officers to promote his own ambition, and now he approved a night of vandalism and destruction that turned world opinion against Germany. Two days after Kristallnacht, the New York Times ran this front-page headline: “Nazis Smash, Loot and Burn Jewish Shops and Temples.” No one knew exactly what Hitler might do next, but Canaris decided that he could no longer allow himself to support Adolf Hitler.

But the admiral did not resign his position as head of the Abwehr to protest Kristallnacht. Instead, he used his rank and authority to smuggle hundreds of refugees out of the Third Reich by disguising them as Abwehr intelligence agents. In 1941, he smuggled 500 Jews out of Nazi-occupied Holland to neutral Spain and Portugal and across the Atlantic Ocean to South America, Mexico, Panama, and other countries. According to some accounts, Canaris’ refugees also entered the United States. All of these evacuees were disguised as Abwehr agents. Some were taught simple codes to make their cover stories more convincing. All passports and other documents were signed by Admiral Canaris himself. The admiral was also responsible for saving the lives of many other Jews and “undesirables” by arranging their escape from Nazi-occupied territory.

What role did Canaris play in the various plots to assassinate Hitler, particularly the July 20th Plot?

Admiral Canaris was well aware of most of the assassination plots against Hitler, but no evidence exists to show that he was directly involved with any of them. At least eight assassination attempts were made since the war began. The first took place on the night of November 8, 1939, at the Bürgerbraükeller in Munich. Hitler was scheduled to make a speech at the beer hall that night, and a bomb was placed behind the speaker’s rostrum by a former inmate of Dachau. Everyone expected Hitler to make one of his usual long-winded speeches, which usually lasted more than an hour but, to the surprise of the audience, he left the building much sooner than expected.  When the time bomb exploded at about 9.30 pm, Hitler had already finished speaking and had left the premises.

Hitler managed to escape all the other assassination attempts, as well, mostly because of what one writer called “the devil’s luck.” In June, 1940, a group of conspirators planned to shoot Hitler while he was attending a victory parade in Paris, but the plan came to nothing when the parade was canceled. A year later, another group of conspirators attempted to kill Hitler during a parade, yet once again, the parade was called off. In March 1943, a bomb was placed aboard Hitler’s airplane while he was traveling through Russia. The bomb featured an acid detonator, which had always proved to be very effective and efficient in the past. But the pilot was forced to climb to a higher altitude than planned to avoid turbulence, and the acid froze in the frigid upper atmosphere. The bomb failed to explode.

Hitler also managed to escape other bomb plots because of luck. One attempt failed when the bomb exploded prematurely. Another effort collapsed when Hitler left an exhibition after staying only a few minutes; he sensed that something was wrong and cut his visit short. Admiral Canaris did not have much faith in these schemes and “did not want to be too much in the picture,” according to one source. His plan for ending Hitler’s dictatorship was to do everything in his power to help make the impending Allied invasion a success. As far as he was concerned, everything else, including bomb plots and assassination attempts, was a complete waste of time and effort.

There were those in London and Washington who shared the admiral’s opinion. Many feared that killing Hitler would only turn him into a martyr, and would encourage right-wing militarists to begin preaching that Germany would have won the war if the Führer had not been murdered by traitors. If Hitler were assassinated, this line of thinking went, his followers would establish a new military dictatorship in 20 or 25 years, a Fourth Reich, and would start another war. This was exactly what Admiral Canaris did not want to happen. Losing the war, and dealing with Hitler and the Nazis after they had been overpowered by the Allied armies, was the only practical way of restoring a German government based on international law, according to Canaris’ point of view.

Canaris had a complex relationship with foreign intelligence services. How did he interact with British intelligence, and what impact did these interactions have on the war?

During the months leading up to D-Day, Admiral Canaris’ activities can be best described as hazy and mysterious. He managed to keep Allied intelligence well informed of reports concerning German defenses in Normandy. No one is exactly sure how he stayed in touch with his contacts in London, but it was probably through acquaintances in Spain. No matter how he accomplished it, the admiral sent a good many reports across to England, priceless information involving the German defense build-up on the coast of Normandy.

An American colonel attached to General Eisenhower’s intelligence staff found out exactly how valuable Admiral Canaris had become to the Allied war effort. The officer in question was Colonel James O. Curtis, who was the only American intelligence evaluator on Eisenhower’s staff. The other three officers were British. The main job of an intelligence evaluator was to read and evaluate each and every report that was received – thousands of reports and pieces of intelligence arrived in London during the period leading up to D-Day – and to determine which were genuine and which were unreliable. Colonel Curtis was on very friendly terms with his British colleagues, but he had the feeling that they were not telling him everything – including details about the sources of the information.

Allied intelligence had its own system of grading information, a system that judged each report based on its credibility. The highest quality reports were graded A-1; the lowest were F-6. Colonel Curtis noticed that a surprising number of reports were being graded A-1. A great deal of A-1 material seemed too accurate and detailed to be true, at least to colonel Curtis’ way of thinking. He refused to believe that all the reports were as accurate as his British associates seemed to think. The three British officers were reluctant to divulge the source of the information until Colonel Curtis insisted. He refused to pass the reports along to American planners at Eisenhower’s headquarters until he knew something about their source.

The head of the department, Colonel E.J. Foord, finally decided to let the American in on their secret. He told Colonel Curtis that the source was Admiral Wilhelm Canaris, the head of the Abwehr, and went on to say that this disclosure was to be considered Top Secret: “The only reason that I am telling you this is that we want you to regard this information as being priceless and copper-bottomed.” Colonel Foord explained that only a very select few high-ranking individuals – President Roosevelt, Prime Minister Churchill, General Eisenhower – knew anything about Admiral Canaris’ activities. Colonel Curtis was taken completely by surprise by this revelation. “I was, at first, afraid to go to sleep in case I talked in my sleep,” he said.

Colonel Curtis wrote about Admiral Canaris’ accomplishments: “His most important service was to give us substantially the complete order of battle plans for the German Army, together with the plans they had worked out for coping with the invasion.” Receiving the Wehrmacht’s listing of divisions and regiments was an enormous asset for Allied intelligence. Piecing together that much information would have taken a great deal of time and effort, if the task could have been managed at all. Instead, intelligence agents were able to put that energy to work on other projects. Delivering the order of battle was one of Admiral Canaris’ major achievements. It gave Allied intelligence priceless information on enemy defenses in Normandy, and proved to be a major contribution toward helping Allied forces win the war.

What were the key reasons for Canaris’s eventual downfall, and how was he discovered to be working against the Nazi regime?

The failed assassination plot of July 20, 1944 made Hitler almost obsessively determined to round up everyone who had any connection at all with the plot, no matter how slight. The Gestapo carried out Hitler’s orders with brutal efficiency. Hundreds of German officers were arrested for complicity in the assassination attempt. About 20 percent of them were executed; many were tortured beforehand.

Admiral Canaris was not involved in the plot, but one of the officers taken into Gestapo custody named Canaris as one of the conspirators. Under the stress of Gestapo questioning, this officer, Colonel Georg Hansen, not only implicated the admiral as a member of the July 20 plot, but also identified him as one of the leaders of the anti-Nazi opposition. Colonel Hansen also said that Canaris was directly responsible for smuggling Jews and other “undesirables” out of German-occupied territory, a disclosure that took his interrogators completely by surprise. On the day after this interrogation, Admiral Canaris was arrested by the Gestapo.

While under arrest, Canaris was regularly questioned by Gestapo agents. Most of these interrogators were specialists in either tricking or intimidating their prisoners into telling them what they wanted to know. But the admiral always managed to avoid answering their questions. He sometimes pretended to be a stupid old man, acting as though he did not understand what the agents were asking him. Sometimes he just sidestepped the questions, or replied with an answer that did not make sense. For months, he frustrated the Gestapo with one ruse after another. But the interrogators never gave up. They always had more questions, and kept coming back.

Not all of the prisoners were as resourceful, or as devious, as Admiral Canaris. One of the suspected conspirators told the Gestapo about some files that were being kept in the town of Zossen, about 20 miles south of Berlin, files that were said to contain valuable information about the anti-Hitler movement. The Gestapo immediately went to Zossen, where they discovered several binders in a safe at the Wehrmacht headquarters building. The binders contained several diaries that recorded – in great detail, and in Admiral Canaris’ handwriting – the activities of the anti-Nazi movement since the 1930s. These diaries supplied the Gestapo with all the evidence they needed to hang Admiral Canaris.

No one knows exactly why Canaris kept such a detailed account for so many years. He gave names, dates, and particulars of just about all the activities of the anti-Hitler conspirators. Possibly it may have been to record events for future historians; maybe it was to keep an official record of the corruption of Hitler and the Nazis for a post-war tribunal. Whatever the reason, the diaries have been one of the great mysteries of Admiral Canaris’ enigmatic life.

Sometime during early April, probably April 4, the diaries were handed over to Adolf Hitler. After reading Admiral Canaris’ comments and observations, Hitler ordered the admiral to be given a quick trial and then hanged. Admiral Canaris had been moved to Flossenbürg concentration camp, about a mile from the Czech border, at the beginning of February. Arranging for a quick trial and execution at Flossenbürg was a routine matter.

What were Canaris’s personal relationships like with his family and close friends during the height of his double life? How did they perceive his actions?

During the war, Admiral Canaris’ closest friends and associates were members of the anti-Hitler movement. Colonel Hans Oster turned against Hitler in 1934, and was involved in Operation Agular. He would be hanged on the same day as Canaris. Hans von Dohnanyi was also disturbed and angered by the Blomberg-Fritsch incident, and took part in Operation Seven. Ulrich von Hassell had been the German ambassador to Italy; he shared Canaris’ thoughts regarding the persecution of Jews and other outcasts. He unsuccessfully attempted to involve the British government in a plot to overthrow Hitler. General Walter Schellenberg remained on friendly terms with the admiral even though he was a high-ranking officer in German intelligence. The two often went horseback riding together. Admiral Canaris’ relationship with friends can best be described as “cautions.” Every one of his friends and acquaintances realized that one misplaced word regarding the admiral might very well result in the arrest of Canaris and very possibly themselves. Not very much is known about the existence of Canaris’ wife and two daughters. They were apparently not involved in any of the admiral’s anti-Hitler activities and remained in the background of Wilhelm Canaris’ life throughout the war. Both daughters, as well as Canaris’ wife, lived for many years after the war ended.

Can you describe the circumstances of Canaris’s arrest, trial, and execution? What was his legacy following his death?

After Admiral Canaris’ diaries were discovered at the beginning of April 1945, which furnished unquestionable proof that he had been a leader in the anti-Nazi resistance for years, his execution followed very quickly. Adolf Hitler issued the order on April 5. By April 8, Canaris was tried, found guilty of treason, and sentenced to death. Following his trial, the admiral was given a brutal interrogation by his SS guards. The guards beat him with their fists, which left him badly bruised and with a broken nose, and returned him to his cell barely able to walk.

On the following morning, Admiral Canaris was hanged. According to another prisoner at Flossenbürg, he died slowly and horribly. He was actually hanged twice – once with an iron collar around his neck, with the noose placed over the collar. After several minutes, he was taken down while still alive. The iron collar was then removed and he was hanged again. This time, he was left hanging until he was dead. Four other prisoners were also hanged that day. The bodies of all five prisoners were burned on a huge bonfire. The wind blew the cremated remains of Admiral Canaris and the others through the bars of the nearby cell windows.

Since he had become head of the Abwehr, Admiral Canaris managed to smuggle several hundred Jews and other outcasts out of Nazi-occupied territory, right past the Gestapo. He also sent valuable information to the Allies and did everything possible to prevent Adolf Hitler from winning the war. And with a great deal of cunning and an equal amount of good luck, he managed to avoid being discovered. But his luck ran out on July 20, 1944, when he was implicated in the failed Hitler assassination plot. Although he managed to get away with all of his anti-Nazi activities for many years, he was hanged because of a conspiracy in which he played no active part.

Exactly two weeks after Admiral Canaris was hanged, members of the 358^th and 359^th US infantry regiments arrived at Flossenbürg and liberated the camp. A week after Flossenbürg was liberated, and three weeks after the admiral was executed, Adolf Hitler committed suicide in his Berlin chancellery. He shot himself on April 30; his bride, Eva Braun, swallowed poison. Seven days later, during the early hours of May 7, Germany surrendered unconditionally to the Allied powers and the Third Reich ceased to exist. The end came too late to save thousands of inmates who died in the concentration camps, but the mass murders had finally ended. Admiral Canaris could be well satisfied that he had done his part in saving many political and religious prisoners from places like Flossenbürg.

David Alan Johnson is the author of fourteen books, including The Last Weeks of Abraham Lincoln and Decided on the Battlefield: Grant, Sherman, Lincoln, and the Election of 1864.

Commander Christopher Nelson, USN, is a career naval intelligence officer and a frequent contributor to CIMSEC. The questions and comments here are his own and not necessarily those endorsed by the Department of the Defense or the United States Navy.

Featured Image: Adolf Hitler and his entourage visiting the Eiffel Tower in Paris on June 23, 1940, following the occupation of France by the Nazis. (Photo via German Federal Archives)

By Dmitry Filipoff

Chris Hemler spoke with CIMSEC to discuss his book, Delivering Destruction: American Firepower and Amphibious Assault from Tarawa to Iwo Jima. In this book, Hemler examines the development of American amphibious fire support doctrine during WWII and offers insightful analysis on wartime organizational learning.

In this discussion, Hemler discusses the challenges of developing combined arms warfighting doctrine, key organizational constructs that facilitated flexible command-and-control of amphibious fire support, and the fundamental principles that fostered adaptation in war.

Why investigate this topic and publish a book on it?

The short answer is that I have always been fascinated by the Pacific War – the naval character of the conflict, the great distances involved, the incredible industrial production required, and many more captivating themes. In addition, my operational experience in the U.S. Marine Corps has given me a firsthand perspective on the difficulties and obstacles involved in amphibious operations. So when I combined my interests, my curiosity, and my experiences with a story that I felt was missing from the World War II scholarship, I had my project.

What role did triphibious fire support play in the American operational approach in the Pacific War?

First, maybe a note on semantics. I stumbled into the word “triphibious” during my research, and I’ll be honest, it wasn’t love at first sight. But over time, the word grew on me. And before long, it took on a dominant role in my project and eventually my book. It is an important word that allows us to look at the Pacific War with a different lens and it is the single most important word in Delivering Destruction. In order to seize the hardened islands of the Central and Western Pacific, American forces had to master triphibious fire support. And I think that is a very important storyline to cover when we discuss the war.

Triphibious fire support – the combined application of heavy firepower delivered by air, land, and sea to support amphibious invasion – was essential. It was an indispensable function for Nimitz’s Central Pacific campaign. While the ground units, air support, and naval gunfire elements have all received individual recognition before, it was truly the combination – the synergy – of these various capabilities that allowed the Americans to advance at the rate they did and triumph in the way they did. Triphibious fire support, and namely the combined arms coordination and integration of that support, was an essential ingredient of success in the Pacific War.

The traditional historiography of the war, and indeed the films and television series that cover the war, do an excellent job acknowledging the infantrymen, artillerymen, naval aviators, and others that enabled victory against Japan. But often lost in that narrative – a narrative typically defined by individual warfare communities and individual skills – is the synergy of those various communities. And that’s the storyline that Delivering Destruction provides.

You discuss the triphibious doctrinal innovation that occurred during the interwar period, and how it fell far short of what was needed in wartime. Why did the fleet exercises and doctrinal development of the interwar period not deliver an effective triphibious fire support system in time for the war?

That is a really important question, and one that I have taken very seriously in my work. I don’t want to be unfairly critical of the interwar Navy and Marine Corps, but it is essential that we learn from the success and the shortfalls of the interwar period. And while the interwar triumphs are well-cataloged, the failures are much less acknowledged. While the naval services spent a great deal of time and attention addressing their concerns over landing craft, logistics, and other amphibious matters, they did not dedicate sufficient attention to the coordination of triphibious firepower. Therefore they did not appreciate the full complexity and difficulty of the challenge they faced.

Planners of the 1920s and 30s thought an awful lot about how to get to the beach, but they did not adequately address staying on the beach. They did not acknowledge the firepower requirements, careful coordination, and mature tactics that would spell success. This left the interwar Fleet Landing Exercises (FLEXs) entirely unrealistic in the coordination and delivery of firepower. To preserve the safety of their troops, most landing forces trained on separate islands from the naval gunfire ships. Umpires used wooden targets ashore to represent enemy bunkers, and naval gunfire officers confirmed their misplaced confidence in “area bombing” methods, which were replaced by more rigorous precision bombing techniques developed during the war. These artificialities led one Marine pilot to label his FLEX as “little more realistic than a map problem.”

Some servicemembers did voice concerns, but they formed only a minority opinion, and their critique had little effect. The result left American naval forces unprepared for the full task that lay before them – effectively integrating and coordinating not only distinct forces, but distinct forms of firepower, during a contested seaborne assault.

Why was the triphibious experience at Tarawa so challenging yet so instructive?

Prior “ignorance” is one explanation. That is the word the accomplished naval historian Samuel Eliot Morison used in his study of the Tarawa attack. To be certain, the Marines knew that Betio Island, the Japanese stronghold of the atoll, was very well-defended. Japanese troops had more than 500 concrete bunkers and a frightening web of mines, barbed wire, and machine gun and mortar positions.

That intelligence aside, the Marines were quite confident as they rode ashore. Unchallenged confidence in the naval gun reigned supreme. The Americans’ three-hour naval bombardment prior to the landing was a stunning display. Three battleships, four heavy cruisers, and nearly two dozen destroyers delivered ordnance ranging in caliber from three inches to fourteen inches. As one admiral briefed his peers before the battle, “Gentlemen, we will not neutralize Betio Island. We will not destroy it. We will obliterate it.” Needless to say, that was far from what transpired, as Tarawa turned out to be a brutal experience for the Marines despite the preparatory bombardment.

Those hard experiences became cherished lessons that the U.S. Navy and Marine Corps integrated into their planning and preparation for the remainder of the war. Just as Guadalcanal had introduced them to the zeal and determination of their Japanese enemy, so Tarawa introduced them to the full challenge of the amphibious assault. By noting and then addressing their impractically rigid fire support timelines, unsuited communications gear, and deficiencies in coordination at the beachhead, it was the American response to the trauma of Tarawa that proved crucial to the subsequent campaigns of the war.

How would you describe the system of operational learning and the various feedback loops that matured this capability? How did they process lessons from major battles, anticipate challenges, and incorporate new doctrine and training into the force in the leadup to future battles?

In this case, the answer is twofold. Bottom-up adaptation drove much of the Americans’ progress throughout the war. In the book, I mention the names and post-battle efforts of junior and mid-level officers that are, almost exclusively, missing from the war’s narrative. These were the leaders on the front lines observing operations in real time, analyzing the Americans’ performance, and delivering professional critique to improve upon their methods. They constantly iterated on firing techniques, ship positioning, communications, and cross-unit culture. Men like Navy Lieutenant Charles Corben, Marine Lieutenant Colonel Donald Weller, and Marine Colonel Vernon Megee are not household names, but their contributions compel recognition. These men belong to Paul Kennedy’s “engineers of victory” – the individuals that fostered critical change and adaptation at the working level in wartime.

But it wasn’t all grassroots adaptation. The V Amphibious Corps also exercised a healthy dose of bureaucracy in the form of patient and persistent administrative work. Following each individual campaign, staff representatives produced after-action tomes averaging more than 1,000 pages. After the battle for Iwo Jima, their report ran to an astonishing 1,600 pages. In these organizational reflections, the V Corps commented on everything from manning arrangements to communications to ammunition projections. Coupled with the ad hoc evolution of their units and more junior leaders, these efforts fed a continuous feedback loop that helped the Navy and Marines improve at each and every juncture. 

You trace the development of the JASCO coordination teams that were central to managing triphibious fires. What role did these specialized teams serve and how did they evolve throughout the war?

They JASCOs were critical to the Americans’ ability to seize – and more importantly hold – a defended beach. The Joint Assault Signal Company construct emerged in late 1943, fueled in part by the costly lessons of the attack on Tarawa. They were designed to bring the disparate components of the task force together, help blend the distinct cultures of the triphibious arms, and provide an administrative headquarters for the fielding, training, planning, and integration of fire support.

By virtue of their mandate, the JASCOs became the most important actor in both managing and improving triphibious fires throughout the war. Over time – and through proven battlefield performances – they built a remarkable reputation. They embedded themselves within the landing forces they served, and they also built strong relationships with other representatives of the naval task force, often through personal liaison, shipboard conferences, and enduring relationships. The JASCOs matured from “suspicious stranger” in the early days of the war to a trusted teammate by 1945. They became the human network and organizational construct that enabled effective fire support across the V Amphibious Corps.

The development of this capability was hampered by differences in culture and operating practices, including between communities and between services. What differences had to be managed to mature these combined arms teams and capabilities?

American forces had to overcome several cultural hurdles in order to achieve their fullest potential as a naval combined arms force in the Pacific. Many of these hurdles flowed not from willful obstinance, but from divergent understandings and perspectives on operational priorities, risk tolerance, and more. In most cases, U.S. Sailors and Marines were not trying to thwart coordination, but their distinct assumptions and tactical concerns occasionally clashed, thereby splintering the cohesion and combat effectiveness of the force.

Throughout the interwar years, and into the early campaigns of the conflict, many senior Navy officers remained opposed to amphibious warfare, in spirit if not in word. From their perspective, any prioritization of or preference for amphibious operations compromised the proper identity of the fleet, anchored in conventional surface forces and decisive engagements at sea. Furthermore, the mobility constraints of supporting a landing force in a particular place for an extended period invited foolish risk upon the naval task force, which prided itself on constant mobility.

Troops encountered cultural friction at the tactical level as well. In the Gilbert and Marshall Islands offensives, American aviators encouraged their counterparts on the ground to accord greater respect to prearranged timelines and support agreements. In a pilot’s mind, the timeline was supreme. From their earliest indoctrination in aviation culture, pilots were directed to monitor precise metrics such as launch schedules, altitude readings, and fuel levels that yielded timelines for aviation operations. Such precise data dictated the support that a naval pilot could provide to the infantrymen below.

On the other hand, the ground units making their way ashore against tides, headwinds, and problematic coral reefs – to say nothing of the enemy forces firing projectiles at them – were taught to anticipate chaos and uncertainty. Valuing flexibility, adaptability, and resourcefulness, the culture of the landing force provided a stark contrast to the aviator’s preference for methodical action.

The story of the V Amphibious Corps in the Central Pacific is very much a story of these cultures learning to coexist. And learning to not only acknowledge but appreciate the values and perspectives of adjacent units and communities. Neither tribe was incorrect. The real-time application of triphibious fires required aspects of both mindsets, according to the circumstances, requirements, and resources at hand. Only in the tailored combination of these cultures and of these fires did the V Amphibious Corps find ultimate victory.

Triphibious fire support consists of the fires delivered by naval and air forces, as well as the organic artillery of the amphibious landing force. How do these different types of fires and delivery systems cover each other’s weaknesses and form a combined arms system?

Delivering Destruction is not meant to be a highly technical study nor a deep comparison of the nuances inherent to each delivery system. But without a doubt, the book introduces the reader to the general capabilities and constraints of the various platforms and the synergy they create when employed together.

The campaigns of the Central Pacific certainly revealed the complementary strengths and weaknesses of naval, air, and field artillery fires. Naval gunfire provided consistent and sustained coverage during landing operations, and its capacity for high-volume fire support made it the backbone of the Americans’ island assaults. In particular, as naval gunfire officers learned from and improved upon their early experiences in the Gilbert and Marshall Islands, naval gunfire ships positioned themselves closer and closer to shore in order to provide the most precise and destructive fires possible to the forces fighting ashore. This is how the admiral and naval gunfire advocate Richard “Close-In” Conolly got his fantastic nickname.

For their part, American aviators provided a more mobile platform capable of striking much deeper into enemy territory. Although most of the V Corps’ objectives were not large enough to make distance a significant consideration, air support proved particularly valuable against reverse-slope targets, which often presented a challenge for naval gunners (from the attacker’s perspective, reverse-slope targets lay on the far slope of a hill or mountain, making them more difficult both to identify and strike).

Environmental conditions presented different challenges to air and naval forces, meaning that one or the other might enjoy a particular advantage on a particular day. While aircraft could be grounded on account of visibility or cloud cover, ships were most often disrupted by poor sea states driven by wave activity, swells, and wind. In general, naval gunfire proved much more resilient in the face of poor weather, but performance could be more nuanced according to the local conditions of a specific location or operation.

Field artillery provided yet its own combination of strengths and weaknesses, whereby it could provide sustained, high-tempo fire support so long as its ammunition allowed. Mobility was certainly more challenging for the field artillerymen, especially in the constrained beacheads of most Pacific War battles, where maneuver space was limited and terrain often problematic. 

You point to how triphibious fire support was fundamentally a human endeavor, something that could not be mastered through a formulaic approach alone. How was the human element critical for maturing this capability, and how should formulaic aspects compliment the human element?

The technology and the mathematics have to work, they are essential. Shell-fuze combinations, aircraft payloads, and firing solutions are all critical matters. And they are quite scientific. But those formulaic aspects must provide for tailored application and adaptation to the battlefield of human combat that is inherently marked by uncertainty, disorder, and friction. The battle is far from over just because you mastered your math homework. In combined arms, formulas are necessary but insufficient.

The human teamwork and artful execution behind triphibious firepower was decisive in the Pacific. The way that U.S. Sailors and Marines brought these capabilities together, experimented and iterated on new tactics from 1943 to 1945, and combined their weapons and their expertise to achieve creative solutions on the battlefield was quite remarkable. The evolution of air support control and authority during the war, the amalgamation of service branch cultures and priorities over three years, and the careful synchronization of a “rolling” naval barrage during the assault on Iwo Jima are but a few examples of the creative firepower achievements in the war. And those achievements point to the primacy of the human, not the scientific, element.

How could these lessons apply to the main contingency many are considering today, a Taiwan invasion? Both in terms of the joint fires that could support the invasion, and those that could stop it?

I am far from an expert on emerging weapon systems or the potential scenarios in the Western Pacific today. But what I can reflect on are a few principles that helped the V Amphibious Corps fight its way across the Pacific in the 1940s. And these principles are not just fire support principles – I am convinced they are fundamental principles of collaboration. Whether military units or civilian organizations, joint service operations or multinational alliances, island assaults or shipbuilding challenges, these are principles that help divergent groups come together to solve complex, high-stakes problems:

Nothing teaches like experience. The Navy and Marine Corps made laudable progress during the interwar period. They experimented with important concepts and advanced several important platforms that would play a role in their success against Japan. But in the realm of supporting arms coordination, their theories were proven incomplete. Their training scenarios left much to be desired. Namely, they failed to interrogate their firepower integration efforts, the communication networks that would allow for success, and the troops that would bring aerial, naval, and ground-based fires together. Part failure of imagination and part insufficient self-critique, the Americans began the war with confident theories but little practical experience. Interwar shadow boxing didn’t do the trick, and the opening bouts of the war laid bare the United States’ deficiencies. In the case of triphibious firepower, nothing taught like actual experience.

Awareness feeds decision-making. Arguably the greatest contribution that the Joint Assault Signal Companies (JASCOs) made to the success of the V Amphibious Corps was an increased awareness of the battlefield throughout the assault. By connecting front-line spotters, offshore gunners, overhead pilots, and battlefield commanders (read, decision-makers), the JASCOs delivered unprecedented awareness to American forces. This awareness allowed staff officers and commanders to make informed judgments in real time and refine their command-and-control. It allowed them to triage the most pressing situations in the battle. This awareness then allowed commanders to apply the most appropriate (or most available) fire support solution to the given situation. Great leaders – and great teams – must have a strong sense of awareness throughout their environment, whether that’s a battlefield, a basketball court, or a dynamic industry.

Familiarity strengthens outcomes. Over time, the awareness that helped to shape better targeting in triphibious fire support also increased the familiarity and shared knowledge between the specialized troops of the V Corps. And that familiarity bred a stronger fire support cycle from start to finish. As infantrymen gained a better understanding of the capabilities and limitations of naval gunfire support or close air support, they became more informed users of that firepower. They learned which targets, terrain, distances, and conditions made for a better (or worse) fire support mission. Through the same shared experiences, naval officers, pilots, and artillerymen increased their familiarity with infantry tactics, needs, and challenges. As the V Corps troops evolved in their understanding of and appreciation for their fellow troops – whoever they were – the team got better.

Redundancy is essential. This combined arms principle is ancient, but that makes it no less critical. Improving the efficiency and integration of triphibious firepower allowed the V Corps to build organic redundancy into its firepower solutions. No matter the circumstantial challenges –enemy reinforcements, hardened positions, defenses-in-depth, coral reef impediments, problematic weather – the Americans had not only sufficient but redundant fires. If an artilleryman could not reach a target, then a pilot could. And that translated to a tremendous advantage for the Americans, particularly by late 1944 and 1945. Redundant fire support could overcome a variety of mistakes or weaknesses on the battlefield, just as redundant skills and effective cross-training can help any team through a tough season or unanticipated challenge.

It is through these principles that triphibious fire support matured and eventually contributed to ultimate victory in the Pacific.

Dr. Chris Hemler spent ten years on active duty in the U.S. Marine Corps, holding posts with the 24th Marine Expeditionary Unit, 2d Marine Aircraft Wing, and U.S. Naval Academy Marine Detachment. He holds a PhD in military history from Texas A&M University and is the author of Delivering Destruction: American Firepower and Amphibious Assault from Tarawa to Iwo Jima(Naval Institute Press, 2023). Chris currently serves as a Professor of Naval Studies at the U.S. Naval Community College and a Marine reservist with the Marine Corps History Division. He resides in Annapolis, Maryland with his wife and two children.

Dmitry Filipoff is CIMSEC’s Director of Online Content. Contact him at [email protected].

Featured Image: April 1, 1945 – The battleship USS Tennessee bombards Okinawa with her 14/50 main battery guns as LVTs in the foreground carry troops to the invasion beaches. (U.S. Naval History and Heritage Command Photograph)

By Dmitry Filipoff

Tom Wildenberg spoke with CIMSEC about his new book, Fighting in the Electromagnetic Spectrum – U.S. Navy and Marine Corps Electronic Warfare Aircraft, Operations, and Equipment. In this book, Wilbenberg traces the development of naval airborne electronic warfare back through WWII, and captures the various innovations, tactics, and controversies of these unique platforms and capabilities. 

In this conversation, Wildenberg discusses the value of electronic warfare capability, deadly shootdown incidents involving electronic reconnaissance aircraft, and how the Joint Force came to rely so heavily on the Navy for airborne EW.

Electronic warfare is an especially complex and technical form of capability. Broadly speaking, how can we understand the value of EW capability and its various applications?

Electronic Warfare (EW) can be either active or passive. Passive EW involves signal intelligence (SIGINT), also known as communications intelligence (COMINT), and electronic intelligence (ELINT). The former allows one to listen in on the enemy’s communications, which can be an important intelligence asset. The latter is used to collect data on the performance characteristics of the enemy’s electronic devices, such as radar, and is also used to establish the enemy’s electronic order of battle.

There are two primary methods of active EW. Jamming is the one that most people are familiar with. It uses high-power electromagnetic energy to disrupt or blind the enemy’s radars, or to prevent the use of communication by filling his communication channels with noise. More sophisticated methods are used to spoof, capture, or insert false information into the enemy’s radars (search or fire control) or communication systems, disrupting their use or effectiveness.

Aerial electronic warfare missions tend to fall into two broad categories – tactical support to operational forces and national-level intelligence collection missions. How can we characterize these two mission areas, and how did they create tensions over limited EW assets?

Strategic SIGINT and ELINT missions are conducted under the auspices of the National Security Agency, which authorizes, plans, and funds these missions, which are conducted using aircraft and personnel from highly secret Air Force and Navy units that are specially established for this purpose. Since these highly secret missions are funded via the so-called “Black Budget,” their funds are separate from the operating forces that employ EW on the tactical level.

During past conflicts, such as the war in Vietnam, the limited distribution of intelligence gathered by the NSA caused conflicts with both the local and theater commanders who believed that withholding this information was detrimental to in-theater operations.

The Vietnam War and Operation Desert Storm both featured numerous U.S. aircraft battling complex integrated air defense systems. How did electronic warfare feature in these air campaigns? 

The United States military was unprepared when the North Vietnamese began fielding their Russian-supplied SA-2 anti-aircraft missiles. Quick responses by industry, Air Force, and Navy EW specialists enabled both services to field effective countermeasures and tactics that were generally effective in defeating the anti-aircraft missiles. However, the North Vietnamese were constantly developing methods to defeat the American countermeasures, requiring constant re-adjustment by American forces. To avoid these missiles, U.S. aircraft were required to fly at low altitudes during the approach and egress from their target areas, subjecting them to the danger of intense gunfire from hundreds of anti-aircraft weapons. The vast majority of U.S. aircraft losses in Vietnam were downed by these easily deployed weapons.

One significant revolution in military affairs that emerged from the air war over Vietnam was the need to suppress enemy air defenses (SEAD) and the creation of units and tactics designed specifically for this purpose. This concept was used very effectively during Operation Desert Storm to virtually eliminate Iraq’s air defense system.

You note that virtually all electronic warfare aircraft in the U.S. military were a product of reconfigured airframe designs. You highlight the EA-6B Prowler as a possible exception. What was unique about this aircraft and how potent was its EW capability? 

The origins of the EA-6B Prowler can be traced to the Marine Corps requirement to replace its aging F3D-2Q Skynight for a carrier-capable aircraft filling the EW attack mission. The Marine Corps provided funding to modify one of the original A-6A Intruders for this purpose. The success of Grumman’s protype led to a production contract for 12 two-seat EA-6A carrier-based EW aircraft.

Towards the end of 1965, as the Marines were beginning to deploy the EA-6A, the Navy needed to replace its aging EKA-3Bs and issued a requirement for a carrier aircraft having a state-of-the art countermeasures suite to support tactical strike aircraft by denying the enemy (the North Vietnamese) the effective use of their defenses and radio communications. Grumman was already at work on an improved version of the EA-6A based around the ALQ-99 tactical jamming system then under development. Since the new ALQ-99 system could not be handled by one electronic countermeasures operator (ECMO), the crew was increased to four – a pilot and three ECMOs.

The EA-6B as originally delivered had an extremely comprehensive electronic warfare suite (internally mounted) that included four defensive jammers, three offensive tactical jammers (covering three radar bands), an integration receiver, and a surveillance system. In addition, the aircraft had seven external stores stations to hold a 300-gallon fuel tank, two more tactical jammers, and up to four weapons.

Electronic intelligence missions can be risky, even if there is no outright conflict. What are some of the more notable close calls and shootdown incidents that happened in peacetime and how did they influence subsequent operations? 

During the first decade of the Cold War, the Joint Chiefs of Staff authorized the Special Electronic Search Project utilizing personnel from the Naval Security Group, who specialized in ELINT and cryptology, to conduct “ferret” missions around the Soviet Union and communist states. Theses missions were extremely hazardous for the Navy crews flying them. Between December 1950 and June 1959, 18 Navy planes were attacked. Six were shot down or forced to ditch, killing and wounding a number of Navy personnel.

In November 1968, the Navy began conducting scheduled ELINT missions off the coast of North Korea using piston engine EC-121Ms that had been derived from the Lockheed Constellation. On April 15, 1969, an EC-121M using the call sign Deep Sea 129 was flying on a routine mission over the northwest corner of the Sea of Japan when it was intercepted and shot down by two North Korean MiG-21s – despite the fact the Air Force radars in Korea had detected two North Korean MiGs flying toward the unarmed EC-121M. The U.S. Air Force Security Service listening post at Osan, South Korea, which was eavesdropping on North Korean voice and Morse air defense radio traffic, was also tracking the path of the EC-121M, as well as the intercept course of the North Korean fighters. The naval security group listening post at Kamiseya in Japan was also intercepting Soviet PVO radar tracking of the EC-121M. Both of these sources provided NSA with real-time information about the flight path of Deep Sea 129 and the MiGs attempting to intercept, but did not provide sufficient warning to Deep Sea 129’s crew.

In the weeks following the shootdown, the command-and-control aspect of the EC-121M incident was examined by two official executive office study groups. One was a CINCPAC board of evaluation, the other a JCS ad hoc fact-finding group. The consensus of these studies was the need to improve command and control communications during such missions and that protection for reconnaissance flights into sensitive areas required more coordination between the SIGINT community and the Air Force operational commands that had protective responsibility. A specific recommendation called for integrating SIGINT information with operational information at command-and-control centers where decisions could be made based on all-source information. A naval board of inquiry into the loss of the EC-121M was also convened. One of the recommendations made by this board was for the procurement of higher-performance aircraft to replace the obsolete EC-121M, leading to the development and procurement of the EP-3B ARIES.

Regardless of the danger faced by the crews flying electronic reconnaissance missions, they continued to be flown and were frequently harassed. On April 1, 2001, a Chinese F-8 on one of these harassing missions accidently struck an EP-3E ARIES flying off the coast of China, forcing the severely damaged aircraft to land on China’s Hainan Island. Although the crew used the short time before landing to destroy as much of the sensitive equipment as possible, what information obtained by the Chinese was never revealed. The crew was eventually released after the U.S. government delivered a letter “expressing sorrow,” but not apologizing for the incident.

Despite EW’s importance, the Navy found itself in the position of being the sole provider of aerial electronic warfare capability to the joint force. How did this situation arise and how did it result in unconventional arrangements for these high-demand assets? 

In November 1994, recommendations made by the congressionally-mandated Commission on Roles and Missions of the Armed Forces, established to eliminate redundancy and waste in DOD, led to increased funding for the EA-6B Prowler and a cut in funding for the Air Force’s EF-111A. This effectively established the Prowler as the sole source of Joint Suppression of Enemy Air Defenses (JSEAD) support.

A number of factors contributed to the decision to retire the EF-111A in favor of the EA-6B. First and foremost was the issue of operating expenses. Although the EF-111s made up nine percent of the aircraft in the Air Force’s Tactical Air Command, they consumed 25 percent of the command’s maintenance budget. While both aircraft needed new ECM equipment to counter the next generation of SAM systems, the EA-6B’s ICAP-II weapons system had a better tactical jamming capability. The EA-6B’s four-man crew provided additional operational advantages over the EF-111A’s two-man crew. The EA-6B was also equipped to fire the AGM-88 HARM, which the EF-111A was not. Lastly, and not insignificantly, the Air Force was promoting a concept that stealth aircraft required no outside electronic warfare support to perform their mission.

After the EF-111As were retired, the EA-6B became the Joint Force’s only airborne tactical jamming platform. To support the JSEAD mission, the Navy created non-carrier based expeditionary squadrons that deployed to overseas bases to support U.S. land-based air assets.

A modern high-end conflict is expected to feature a heavily contested electromagnetic spectrum. What are some key lessons from the history of electronic warfare that can inform preparations for modern high-end combat? 

Although electronic warfare has played an important role in every major aerial campaign since World War II began, interest in its continued support and development has often waned during the peaceful interlude that inevitably follows such conflicts. This phenomenon can be attributed to a number of factors concerning the nature of electronic warfare. First is the secrecy surrounding its operations and equipment, which limits the dissemination of EW information to the public and within the military itself. Since the mission of such aircraft is to collect information or suppress enemy air defenses, it lacks the glamour associated with missions flown by attacking aircraft. This discrepancy is reflected in the attitude and elan of the pilots in the attack community who have great influence over what type of aircraft need to be procured or developed. In the past as budgets tightened, the leadership within the aviation community preferred to spend their limited resources on obtaining more fighter, bomber, or attack aircraft, only to discover during the next major conflict that it had to rely on a limited number of somewhat obsolete EW assets to support its mission objectives.

This attitude is no longer as prominent, as evidenced by the latest EW suites being developed for the F-35 and the newest versions of the F-18. The reasons for this are twofold. First is how air power in today’s military operations has to overcome the proliferation of sophisticated air defense systems and enemy fighters armed with air-to-air missiles, which can only be overcome via robust SEAD capability. This concept is well-understood within the aviation community and the upper echelons of the U.S. military. Second, are the extraordinary advances in software and digitization that have enabled the development of state-of the-art EW suites that are lighter and smaller than legacy systems. These new systems are also engineered for autonomous operation. Autonomous operation eliminates the need for additional crew members, and the size and weight reductions allow very sophisticated EW suites to be installed in the latest generation of single-seat fighters without affecting aircraft performance. Whether such systems eliminate the need for dedicated EW attack aircraft remains to be seen.

Thomas Wildenberg is an award-winning scholar with special interests in aviators, naval aviation, and technological innovation in the military. He is the author of a number of books on a variety on naval topics, as well as biographies of Joseph Mason Reeves, Billy Mitchell, and Charles Stark Draper.

Dmitry Filipoff is CIMSEC’s Director of Online Content. Contact him at [email protected].

Featured Image: A Marine Corps EA-6B Prowler departs after receiving fuel from a U.S. Air Force KC-135 Stratotanker. (Staff Sgt. Trevor T. McBride/Air Force Photo)