Tag Archives: History

Book Review: Andrew Gordon’s The Rules of the Game

January 19, 2016 Guest Author 4 Comments

Gordon, Andrew. The Rules of the Game: Jutland and British Naval Command. Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 2013, reprint ed. 708pp. $34.95

By Captain Dale Rielage

There is always interest, and usually value, in reading what the boss is reading. Since General Al Gray established the Marine Corps reading list in the late 1980s, reading lists have proliferated across the military services. The Marine Corps Library website lists more than twenty. While the original Marine Corps reading list bore General Gray’s own unique stamp, today most military reading lists feel like the product of a committee – because most are – developed with an eye towards representing every facet and constituency in their institution. What has personally informed and moved a thoughtful warrior, however, is more interesting than the consensus of any committee…which is why, for example, Admiral Stavridis’s reading recommendations are always worth taking aboard. Earlier this month, one of my colleagues made reference to the classic work The Rules of the Game. His comment sent me back to my bookshelf. There, in the recent Naval Institute reprint edition, I noticed an epigraph that escaped my attention years ago:

This edition has been brought to publication with the generous assistance of VADM John M. Richardson, USN, Commander, Submarine Force, and VADM Peter H. Daly, USN (ret.) CEO, US Naval Institute, in the interest of helping put this book in the hands of current and future naval professionals.

It is one thing for a book to make an official reading list, but when the (then) future Chief of Naval Operations is willing to help a book to remain in print, it bears a second look. What any particular senior officer saw in this volume I can only speculate, but a couple lost weekends later, it is clear that Rules of the Game speaks to the most profound challenges facing the U.S. Navy.

On the surface, a 600-plus page (708 pages with notes and appendixes) book about the Battle of Jutland seems an unlikely means to examine the established order of U.S. Navy command and control. The fight between the British Royal Navy and the German High Sea Fleet in the North Sea on 31 May and 1 June 1916 was the largest naval battle of World War I. This epic clash of dreadnought battleships is widely regarded as a draw, with neither side achieving clear victory. Gordon, however, turns the Royal Navy at Jutland into a long case study of the role of doctrine, training, centralization, initiative, and institutions in naval warfare. He begins his analysis as the fleet engagement at Jutland is starting, with the Battle Fleet and the Battle Cruiser Fleet, the two key combat formations that comprised the Royal Navy’s Grand Fleet, getting underway from their respective homeports 200 miles from each other. So good was British naval intelligence in this era that the Grand Fleet weighed anchor in response to a planned German sortie more than four hours before the German High Sea Fleet reached the open sea.

As the narrative arrives at the moment enemy forces are in contact and key tactical decisions are being made, Gordon shifts his view back a century. In a 200 page excursion, he introduces the competing naval schools of thought and the resulting institutional habits and personal relationships that led to the British fleet acting as it did at Jutland.

Britain left the Napoleonic Wars with a navy second to none and a tradition of victory built on the aligned independence of Nelson’s band of brothers. Nelson’s famous flag hoist opening Trafalgar was the last he made during that battle – not because of his death, but because he needed no other. Shortly after the war, however, new visual signaling systems promised increasing control over the movements of forces in combat. In peacetime drills, these systems yielded reliable execution of complex maneuvers. However, the reality of how this signals system would work in combat was lost over decades. In the breach, smoke from engineering and gunnery, signal masts and halyards destroyed by gunfire, signalmen lost to shot and shell, and the sheer volume of communications in a fleet engagement would conspire to negate centralized command and control. The promise of centralized control and effective coordinated combat action, however, produced a deep influence on the Royal Navy.

In what Gordon memorably dubbed “the long lee of Trafalgar,” the Royal Navy continued to dominate the seas. Its officers retained the expectation of victory bequeathed them by their predecessors. That there had been no major fleet action in living memory was discussed, but rarely with concern. The French or Russian navies occasionally caused alarm, but no “peer competitor” called into question the fundamentals of the system – the rules of the game.

There was good reason for this comfort. By almost every metric, the Royal Navy in the second half of the nineteenth century was extraordinarily successful. Its officers were masters of seamanship and navigation and created the standard for contemporary and modern navies. Operating forward in defense of a worldwide empire, many Royal Navy officers had seen combat and had demonstrated personal courage and resourcefulness. Beatty, commander of the Battle Cruiser Fleet at Jutland, had earned distinction – and favorably impressed a young Winston Churchill – in littoral action using river gunboats to support ground forces in Egypt. Work to understand and incorporate new technologies proceeded apace, with a limited cadre of specialists articulating the new technology to the fleet at large. There were efforts to change operational culture, most prominently spearheaded by the driven and charismatic Admiral Sir George Tyron. Tyron advocated a looser form of control, emphasizing formations following the Commander’s intent as understood or expressed in the movements of his flagship. His untimely death in a collision at sea – ironically and unfairly blamed on his style of signaling – arrested reform efforts for decades.

Having allowed the German Fleet to avoid decisive battle and escape home, the Royal Navy left the field at Jutland with a sense of failure that grew as the war concluded. Denied the decisive fleet action they expected, senior British commanders engaged in decades of controversy over what signals were sent, received, intended, and expected. This controversy colors any discussion of the battle to this day. Gordon, however, seeks to move this discussion to a more profound level. While individual commanders executed the action at Jutland, their failure to exercise initiative at key moments was not truly an individual act. Indeed, Gordon asserts that the sudden exercise of tactical initiative would have been an unnatural rejection of the culture that had nurtured them through their entire professional lives.

In his final chapter, Gordon draws twenty-eight specific observations from the Jutland experience. They are directed toward the Royal Navy of the early 1990s, but will resonate with serving officers today. Gordon rails against command and control being driven by the tools of information processing. Absent deliberate restraint, every increase in the capacity to transmit information produces an increase in the amount of information transmitted – with the capacity of the senior to send information, rather than the capacity of the junior to assimilate information, driving the flow. The focus too easily becomes getting the mechanisms of communications right, believing that with that information dominance achieved, success in command and control ensues. Ready access to information and the ability to transmit orders raises the level of decision making further from the point of action. When these links fail – today from jamming, cyber attack, or destruction of communications satellites – it is folly to expect naval commanders in combat will suddenly be able to shed the culture in which they have been trained.

Gordon also highlights the difficulty of integrating new concepts and technologies into a peacetime navy. In the Royal Navy of 1900, enthusiasts for new technologies drove the stated purpose and design of new weapons – much like our navy today. Their specialized focus ignored or obscured real operational challenges to their systems. Once a new system or platform arrived in the Fleet, however, its integration and employment became the business of fleet officers who were and are often working from different approaches than the cadre of experts who designed it. As practical naval officers, they rarely set a capability aside as too flawed for use, but rather would often “make the best of it,” sometimes using the ship for an entirely different purpose than intended. At Jutland, the Royal Navy Battle Cruiser Fleet consisted of ships designed to mount heavy guns but limited armor. Their superior speed was intended to allow them to manage their range to more heavily protected enemies. In actual combat, managing this thin envelope of safety proved too difficult. 3,300 British sailors died in these ships – ten percent of all the British sailors who participated in the battle – in what Gordon aptly calls “a costly rediscovery of the designer’s terms of reference.”

That insight brings us to Gordon’s overarching theme – how the Royal Navy dealt with a long peace, technological change, and an emerging German challenge to its comfortable dominance of the maritime domain. It is a short leap to ask to what extent the U.S. Navy remains, to paraphrase, in the long lee of Midway. It is a question the service must be comfortable asking, whether or not the answers are comfortable.

Aside from its impact and insight, The Rules of the Game is delightfully written. Gordon has a knack for memorable turns of phrase and admirable clarity (if not economy) of expression that makes the long journey through his thinking as enjoyable as it is intriguing. Every naval professional’s bookshelf should have a well-thumbed copy of this volume.

Captain Rielage serves as Director for Intelligence and Information Operations for U.S. Pacific Fleet, the headquarters where the Midway operation was commanded and controlled. He has served as 3rd Fleet N2, 7th Fleet Deputy N2, Senior Intelligence Officer for China at the Office of Naval Intelligence and Director of the Navy Asia Pacific Advisory Group. His opinions do not represent those of the U.S. Government, Department of Defense, or Department of the Navy.

Twenty-Eight Observations from The Rules of the Game
by Andrew Gordon

Lessons from the Battle of Jutland
31 May to 1 June 1916

1) In times of peace, empirical experience fades and rationalist theory takes its place.
2) The advent of new technology assists the discrediting of empirical doctrine.
3) The purveyors of new technology will be the most evangelizing rationalists.
4) Rationalism, unlike empiricism, tends to assume an accretion of vested interests.
5) The training establishment may try to ignore short bouts of empirical experience to preserve its ‘rationalist’ authority.
6) Military cultures impart doctrine by corporate ambience as much as by explicit teaching.
7) In long periods of peace, ‘ambient’ doctrine may be no more than the habits of years in which war has been forgotten.
8) If doctrine is not explicitly taught, vested interests will probably ensure that wrong doctrine is ambiently learned.
9) In peacetime, doctrine is vulnerable to commandeering by ‘systems lobbyists.’
10) Innovations adopted in accordance with peacetime doctrine may lock the Fleet into both systems and doctrine which will fail the empirical test of war.
11) Purveyors of technical systems will seek to define performance criteria and trials conditions.
12) A service which neglects to foster a conceptual grasp of specialized subjects will have too few warriors able to interrogate the specialists.
13) The volume of traffic expands to meet capacity.
14) Signals ‘capacity’ tends to be defined by how much the senior end can transmit rather than how much the junior end can conveniently assimilate.
15) Signal prioritizing mechanisms become dislocated in times of overload.
16) Incoming traffic can act as a brake on decision-making.
17) The more signals, the more the sun shines on signalers.
18) The ‘center’ must subject its own transmissions to the strictest self-denying ordinance.
19) Signaling promotes the centralization of authority.
20) There is an inverse law between robust doctrine and the need for signaling.
21) Heavy signaling, like copious orders, is symptomatic of doctrinal deficiency.
22) The promise of signaling fosters a neglect of doctrine.
23) War-fighting commanders may find themselves bereft of communications faculties on which they have become reliant in peacetime training.
24) Properly disseminated doctrine offers both the cheapest and the most secure command-and-control method yet devised by man.
25) Every proven military incompetent has previously displayed attributes which his superiors rewarded.
26) Peacetime highlights basic ‘primary’ skills to the neglect of more advanced, more lateral ‘secondary’ abilities, the former being easier to teach, easier to measure, and more agreeable to superiors.
27) The key to efficiency lies in the correct balance between organization and method.
28) Doctrine draws on the lessons of history.

Asia-Pacific, History, South Pacific/Oceania

History and the Sea: Interview with Sarah Ward, Marine Archaeologist

January 15, 2016 Guest Author 1 Comment

Interview performed by Alex Calvo

The sea is a vital venue for trade and national security, and also holds the key to understanding much of our past. From the dispute over the South China Sea, to the protection of sea graves such as HMS Prince of Wales and HMS Repulse, maritime archaeology matters. Sarah Ward, a maritime archaeologist, diver, and outreach specialist, who works for ArchaeoMar Australasia (a cultural heritage practice based in Sydney Australia) and has her own blog, has kindly agreed to tell CIMSEC a bit more about her work.

[otw_shortcode_button href=”https://cimsec.org/buying-cimsec-war-bonds/18115″ size=”medium” icon_position=”right” shape=”round” color_class=”otw-blue”]Donate to CIMSEC![/otw_shortcode_button]

CIMSEC: When did you decide to become a maritime archaeologist and why?

Ward: As a child I had a fascination with the sea. I grew up on my parent’s boat, diving and exploring the shipwrecks of Tangalooma Island (near Brisbane, Australia). I was obsessed with Jacques Cousteau and when not splashing about in the water, would spend hours poring over his books and films. Then having worked in finance for a number of years, and with an MBA under my belt, I decided that life was too short and it was time that I did what I loved. A water baby with a passion for the past, I eventually abandoned my desk job, took the plunge and proved that it is possible to turn your passion into a challenging and rewarding career.

CIMSEC: What kind of training is needed for this job? What are the main skills required?

Ward: To become a maritime archaeologist, you would generally need to complete an undergraduate degree in archaeology, followed by a masters degree in maritime archaeology. You might also like to complete studies in the time period or geographic region you are interested in e.g. Roman History or Asian studies, and, if you wish to teach at tertiary level, a relevant PhD. If you wish to work underwater (which not all maritime archaeologists do), this will need to be topped off with commercial diving certification (e.g. from the HSE in the UK or ADAS in Australia).

With regard to the core skills of a maritime archaeologist, these fall into three main areas: intellectual, practical, and administrative.

Intellectual skills include (but aren’t limited to):
- an understanding of the history, languages, and culture of the period and area/site in which you work;
- an understanding of the theory and concepts of archaeological practice, such as sequence, relation, association, chronology, observation, synthesis, interrogation, and interpretation;
- a sound understanding of the ethical considerations and applications and an ability to understand and respond to the context in which archaeological work is conducted.
Practical or technical skills include:
- diving (for those working under water);
- diving supervision (for those leading work under water);
- an understanding of geophysical and other prospection methods;
- data collection and retrieval, such as survey, recording, excavation, and pre-excavation and post-excavation data analysis;
- historical, archival, and topic-based research;
- first aid for finds and a basic understanding of preliminary conservation;
- an understanding of a broader scientific methods.
Administrative/managerial skills are standard across any business or project management, including:
- remote area logistics (field & diving);
- financial and information management.

If you would like more details on the skills required, I led a study on benchmarking competency in maritime archaeology for the NAS a number of years ago; the study is online here.

CIMSEC: How does maritime archaeology differ from the more traditional, land-based variety?

Ward: The intellectual requirements are the same, however there are two key differences: the theme of study (human relationship with the sea); and the environment in which we work (intertidal zone or underwater). The environment brings its own challenges as the the tools, techniques, equipment and training required when working underwater, for example, can vary substantially to that employed on land.

CIMSEC: Which project are you currently working on? Could you tell us a bit about it?

Ward: My current research work is focused on the maritime archaeology of China, the maritime silk route and the early Ming Navy, notably the voyages of Zheng He and the resulting connections with Africa. I’m currently investigating evidence suggesting that one of the Zheng He fleet wrecked on the East African coast. This is significant as it could be the first vessel relating to the voyages that has been found. If so, it would give us an incredible insight into the expansionist Ming maritime policy and today’s parallels.

Nanhai1 excavation. Maritime Silk Road Museum of Guangdong and the Peoples Republic of China.

CIMSEC: What is your favorite past project and why?

Ward: Asking me to chose a favourite project would be like asking a mother to chose her favourite child! That said I have been fortunate enough to work on some incredible projects, with some incredible people. Present research excluded, here are a few of my favourites:

Excavation of the a settlement on Gask Ridge, Scotland’s Roman Frontier, with Drs Brigitta Hoffman and David Woolliscroft of the Roman Gask Project – the information gained from the dig changed our understanding of the history of Roman Scotland;
Excavation of King Henry VIII’s Tudor flagship the Mary Rose, when the sternpost and anchor was lifted;
remote sensing survey of the Late Bronze Age, early Iron Age settlement at High Past Cave, on the Isle of Skye;
Excavation of Kizilburun Roman Column Wreck on the Aegean Coast of Turkey with the Institute of Nautical Archaeology; and
Excavation of the Scottish settlement of the Isthmus of Panama, the failure of which lead to the Union of the Crown in 1707.

CIMSEC: The dispute over the South China Sea has seen some claimants use archaeological evidence to support their claims. Is there a danger of the discipline being politicized? Could this result in restrictions on archaeological work?

Ward: The South China Sea dispute is an interesting situation. China claims sovereignty over almost 90% of the South China Sea, and has done since ancient times. To an extent, this claim is made on the basis that way back in China’s first dynasty, the Xia (c. 2070 – c. 1600 BC), China was apparently the first state to discover, name, explore, and exploit the contested Spratly (Nansha) and Paracel (Xisha) Islands. This claim is based more on historical, rather than legal grounds, and China is looking to the past to create a future – to the Han ceramics found on Taiping Island, Nanhai 1 off Hainan 20 nm off Dongping, the 200 submerged prehistoric sites identified between the Spratly and Paracel Islands, and to early maps and documents which support historic Chinese ownership.

Coins from Nanhai 1. Maritime Silk Road Museum of Guangdong and the Peoples Republic of China.

For China, this is a nation-building exercise. It’s also not the first time archaeology has been put to overt political use. In 1914, Leonard Woolley and Thomas (TE) Lawrence provided archaeological camouflage for a British military survey of the Turkish-controlled Sinai Peninsula. During World War I, Sylvanus Morley used his investigations of Mayan sites in the Yucatán as a cover to negotiate with rebel Mayan leaders for their support of U.S. interests.

Archaeology often reveals a contested space, a battleground for struggles over economic gain, heritage, and identity, and its practice often carries with it profound political implication. In China’s case, it can and has resulted in restrictions on archaeological work, such as when a French team working on a Chinese shipwreck off the Philippine coast was turned back by the Chinese on the basis of their sovereign claims.

CIMSEC: On the other hand, could international cooperation in maritime archaeology be part of confidence-building measures in disputed sea areas?

Ward: Absolutely. Confidence is the result of a dynamic process, based on past experiences, present perceptions, and future expectations, and affected by a multitude of elements. As confidence is especially sensitive to the behaviour of States, cooperation in maritime archaeology, which is a tenant of the UNESCO 2001 Convention, would be an excellent confidence-building measure.

China, Vietnam, Taiwan, Philippines, and Malaysia have a mutual, shared maritime heritage and our appreciation of the past determines how we shape our future. A shared heritage not only reminds us of our collective identity and cultural diversity, it also nurtures social belonging, promotes economies amongst local communities, and it deepens mutual understanding of each other’s values, histories, and traditions.

CIMSEC: Do you use unmanned submarines in your work? Do they offer the potential to radically transform our understanding of the maritime past?

Ward: Yes, quite often. In the past, for example, I’ve worked with the Australian Centre for Field Robotics at the University of Sydney to carry out a high-resolution shipwreck survey in deep water using Sirius, an autonomous underwater vehicle (AUV). The submersible is equipped with a full suite of oceanographic instruments, including a high-resolution stereo camera pair and strobes, a multibeam sonar, depth and conductivity/temperature sensors, Doppler Velocity Log (DVL) including a compass with integrated roll and pitch sensors, Ultra Short Baseline Acoustic Positioning System (USBL), and forward looking obstacle avoidance sonar. The result is effectively a 3D map of the shipwreck site to millimetric accuracy.

Nanhai-Shipwreck. Maritime Silk Road Museum of Guangdong and the Peoples Republic of China.

This technology allows us to locate, identify and survey submerged sites with greater accuracy than ever before, in smaller timeframes, in deep water and other environments not previously accessible to divers. The result is high quality, often real time data that can be used for interpretation, education, dissemination, and site monitoring in new and exciting ways.

CIMSEC: What is the best approach to protect sea graves? How to combine our thirst for knowledge about our past with the necessary respect for those who fell at sea?

Ward.- War graves at sea is a very sensitive issue, and one on which an international consensus has not been reached – in spite of the Geneva Conventions, their additional protocols, and international humanitarian law. The treatment of human remains in maritime museums was discussed at the ICMM in Hong Kong recently and there were as many opinions on what is appropriate, as there were people in the room.

The same diversity of opinion applies to war graves at sea. In the UK for example, the Protection of Military Remains Act 1986 protects human remains associated with the remains of military aircraft and vessels that have crashed, sunk or been stranded, from unauthorised interference. Australia on the other hand, has no such legislation.

Personally, I believe that the best approach is protection via the UNESCO Convention on the Protection of Underwater Cultural Heritage 2001. Underwater cultural heritage means all traces of human existence (including human remains) having a cultural, historical or archaeological character, which have been partially or totally under water, periodically or continuously, for at least 100 years.

The Convention sets out basic principles for the protection of underwater cultural heritage:

an obligation to preserve underwater cultural heritage;
in situ preservation as first option (note first, not best option; this allows for recovery in certain situations);
no commercial exploitation;
training and information sharing.

It also provides a detailed State cooperation system; widely recognized practical rules for the treatment and research of underwater cultural heritage; and for public access to sites up to the point where it becomes detrimental to the site.

With regard to war graves, first and foremost, the personal dignity of the deceased must be safeguarded, as must the relatives’ right to know the fate of their next of kin. Mechanisms must also be established for relatives to access the burial place and for their interest in recovering the dead to be registered.

Lifting items from Nanhai 1. Maritime Silk Road Museum of Guangdong and the Peoples Republic of China.

CIMSEC: You have recently attended the International Congress of Maritime Museums (ICMM) in Hong Kong, could you tell us about the work of this organization? What were the highlights of the congress?

Ward.- ICMM was an absolutely fantastic event an one which I thoroughly enjoyed.

To give you some background, ICMM is a biennial congress attended by maritime archaeologists, maritime museum directors, and related maritime professionals from around the world. The aim of the congress is for delegates to network, share expertise and resources, and to learn about the international best practices in the capacity of maritime museum operations and management, and it certainly achieved that.

This was both the first ICMM in Asia and quite possibly the best conference I have ever attended. Our friends at the Hong Kong Maritime Museum really know how to put on a good show!

The two keynotes − Lincoln Paine, author of the acclaimed Sea and Civilization, and Fred Kenny, Director External and Legal Affairs at the IMO − were excellent. As were the presentations by my old friends and mentors, Fred Hocker, Director of Research at the Vasa Museum, and Christopher Dobbs, Head of Maritime Archaeology and Interpretation at the Mary Rose Museum. The excursions to The Peak, Tai O, Jao Tsung-I Academy, Hong Kong Museum of History, and Macau Maritime Museum were all enlightening, but for me the real treat was meeting new friends from China, and to hear about the incredible work being undertaken at both the China Maritime Museum and visiting the Nanhai 1 Song Dynasty shipwreck at the Maritime Silk Road Museum of Guandgong. Fascinating!

Sarah Ward is a maritime archaeologist, diver, and outreach specialist. She works for ArchaeoMar Australasia (a cultural heritage practice based in Sydney Australia) and is a regular blogger and tweeter.

Alex Calvo is a guest professor at Nagoya University (Japan) focusing on security and defence policy, international law, and military history in the Indian-Pacific Ocean. Region. A member of the Center for International Maritime Security (CIMSEC) and Taiwan’s South China Sea Think-Tank, he is currently writing a book about Asia’s role and contribution to the Allied victory in the Great War. He tweets @Alex__Calvo and his work can be found here..

Capability Analysis, History

Four Carrier Crises, but yet No Funeral for the Large Flattop

January 11, 2016 Guest Author 15 Comments

By Steven Wills

The arguments deployed in the latest debate over the aircraft carrier’s place in the U.S. Navy’s force structure have a familiar ring. That is perhaps because they have been very similar criticisms in every carrier debate going back to the 1920’s. While every weapon system undergoes re-evaluation and criticism over its service life, the large aircraft carrier has been the subject of four significant debates in the 20^th and 21^st century. Each has involved questions of the large carrier’s cost relative to the capability it delivers; the range of the carrier’s embarked air wing; and the vulnerability of the carrier itself to threats. In each case, the carrier and its embarked air wing have proved reliable, cost effective ordnance delivery systems in comparison with other naval weapon systems. The carrier’s air wing has at times been deficient in range and/or combat capability, but has upgraded to meet threats. The carrier has always been a very vulnerable type of warship due to the nature of its mission. Decision-makers have repeatedly accepted this vulnerability as an acceptable price for the capabilities the large deck flattop delivers. The present carrier debate has all of these same components, and while not all solutions to the present round of carrier criticisms are not in place, they are in sight and can be achieved. The aircraft carrier replaced the battleship as the principal capital ship of the world’s navies because, “It was far more capable than the battleship of inflicting damage on the enemy.”[1] Some other naval weapon system will eventually replace the aircraft carrier, but that platform and payload combination has yet to manifest its presence on, above or beneath the world’s oceans.

The first U.S. carrier controversy dates to the decades of the 1920’s and 1930’s when the carrier first entered the world’s navies in its present recognizable form and in numbers beyond mere experiment. The main concern was that the carrier’s air wing was too weak and short-ranged to prevent an attack by a powerful surface force. A force of battleships and cruisers might travel a distance longer than the range of the carrier’s aircraft under the cover of darkness when carrier aircraft could not then operate.

There were also concerns that the first two significant carriers, USS Lexington (CV 2), and USS Saratoga (CV 3), were too large, too expensive (at $45 million dollars a unit without aircraft), and placed too much of the fleet’s air strength in too few platforms. The concept of a hybrid “flying deck cruiser” with cruiser size guns and an airwing optimized for scouting was proposed as an augment to the carrier fleet to counter these concerns.[2]

These concerns, however, evaporated with technological advances. The range of carrier aircraft increased over the 1930’s and that change eliminated the threat from surface forces approaching in hours of darkness. New U.S. carriers of the Yorktown class were much less expensive at $19 million a copy, but still supported air wings in size and capability approaching the larger, previous Lexington class. House Naval Affairs Committee Chairman Carl Vinson confirmed the carrier as the fleet’s new capital ship even before Pearl Harbor in the signing statement of the $8.5 billion dollar Two Ocean Navy Act of July 1940. He stated, “The modern development of aircraft has demonstrated conclusively that the backbone of the Navy today is the aircraft carrier. The carrier, with destroyers, cruisers and submarines grouped around it is the spearhead of all modern naval task forces.”[3]

The second carrier controversy began in the immediate aftermath of the carrier’s greatest triumph. The end of the Second World War and with it the navies of the fascist powers caused many to question the need for carrier aviation in what appeared to be a new age of predominately atomic warfare. Notable Army Air Corps (now Air Force) and Army officers dismissed the aircraft carrier as unnecessary in an age of intercontinental aircraft like the B-36 bomber. Army Chief of Staff General Omar Bradley dismissed the “super” (large) carrier as the Navy’s tool to employ long-range bombers, a role already covered by the Air Force.[4] Air Force Chief of Staff General Hoyt Vandenberg said the carrier was of “low military value” and that “land based air power was of far greater military usefulness.”[5] Defense Secretary Louis Johnson, with the strong support of President Harry Truman, cancelled the first postwar “supercarrier” in May 1949 based largely on these Army and Air Force opinions. Attempts by Navy Department civilians to discredit the B-36 before Congressional hearings further damaged the Navy’s case for the aircraft carrier in the emerging Cold War.

The carrier survived its second controversy thanks to the Korean War. The conflict on the Korean peninsula demanded close air support for ground troops desperately in need of firepower to drive back larger North Korean formations. This was a mission that the Air Force had generally ignored and allowed to degrade in the aftermath of World War 2. The Navy was used to providing air support to Marine units from aircraft carriers and quickly demonstrated its ability to step up for post-World War 2 “small wars.” Naval strikes from carriers were crucial in repelling the initial North Korean attack and carrier-based Navy and Marine Corps aviators eventually flew 41% of all air combat missions in the Korean War.[6] The carrier would go on to similar strike missions in the Vietnam War and in other U.S. power projection efforts. Even President Truman came around to the carrier’s combat potential and endorsed the Forrestal class super carriers with the first commissioning in 1954.[7]

A drawing of CVA 58 the proposed USS United States which was later cancelled. — A depiction of the proposed CVA 58, USS United States, which was later cancelled.

The most recent carrier controversy had its roots in post-Vietnam war budget cuts and a misunderstanding of the operational design for the emerging Soviet Navy of the early 1970’s. The projected $2 billion dollar price tag of the fifth nuclear-powered carrier (the eventual USS Theodore Roosevelt) made the Carter administration reluctant to authorize such an expensive vessel.[8] The Congressional Budget Office produced documents suggesting that the carrier was not “survivable” in a modern battle, which further suggested that a $2 billion dollar price tag for a failed weapon system was the wrong choice.[9] Finally, NATO advocates in the Carter administration such as Robert Komer wanted the U.S. for focus the bulk of its defense expenditures on the defense of the Fulda gap against the possibility of Soviet invasion. The Navy’s chief task in this mission was sea control and protection of the vital supply lines between North America and Europe. Komer believed large carrier battle groups were unneeded for this mission and the large outlays required for their construction were better spent on land warfare equipment.[10] Some former officers including former USS Nimitz commander Admiral Eugene Carroll, and CIA director and naval strategist Admiral Stansfield Turner joined the chorus of carrier doubters. Politicians such as Colorado Senator Gary Hart, who in his book America Can Win and in other writings proclaimed, “like the battleship the carrier replaced, its magnificence cannot nullify basic changes in the nature of war at sea.”

Ironically, this carrier controversy disappeared more rapidly than the previous two. Significant analysis from disparate sources appeared in defense of the large flattop and its capabilities. Future Chief of Naval Operations Admiral Carlisle Trost in conjunction with the CNA Corporation produced the 1978 Sea Based Air Platform Study at the behest of Congressional Committees, “at loggerheads over whether the next carrier would have a nuclear or conventional power plant.”[11] Large nuclear and smaller conventional carriers designed to operate vertical take off and landing (VSTOL) aircraft were studied. While all three types of carrier had positive attributes identified by the study, the 30 year life cycle cost of the nuclear carrier was only slightly more than that of its conventional equal. Both carried significantly more aircraft than the smaller VSTOL ship. Based on this, according to naval tactics expert (then executive assistant to Under Secretary of the Navy James Woolsey), Captain Wayne Hughes, “With total ownership costs so close, it was reasonable to let the Navy’s preference be decisive. The next year Congress authorized a CVN!”[12]

sea control ship — The proposed Sea Control Ship (SCS) which was later cancelled.

John Lehman’s 1978 Aircraft Carriers, The Real Choices came to similar conclusions. Lehman examined seven basic points concerning sea-based aviation including: (1) what should sea-based aviation do?; (2) what can land-based air do better?; (3) how vulnerable are carriers?; (4) how many carriers are needed and what do they cost?; (5) how essential is nuclear propulsion for carriers?; (6) what are the practical options for size of future carriers?; and (7) how will VSTOL technologies affect future air power at sea? [13] Lehman found that sea-based aviation was a useful companion to its land based equivalent in that carrier aviation allowed the US greater geographic freedom to strike targets out of range of land-based air. Larger carriers were less vulnerable (historically) than their smaller cousins. The examples of large carriers surviving significant accidents (USS Forrestal and USS Enterprise) was important to this determination. Enterprise survived the equivalent of six Soviet SSN-3 cruise missile hits but resumed flight operations several hours later.[14]

Lehman was also an analyst who contributed to the Sea Plan 2000 analysis that first recommended 15 aircraft carriers as the minimum number needed by the US for both peacetime presence and minimal wartime operations against the Soviet Union. His suggestion for carrier strength of 13-17 carriers as the right number was in keeping with the general Navy assumptions of the time. Lehman, like the analysts who completed the Sea-Based Air Platform study found that nuclear carrier costs over the lifespan of the ship were within 2.5% to 3% those of a large conventional carrier and worth the Navy’s investment.[15] Lehman’s analysis determined a number of significant problems associated with small carriers. Accident rates were significant in smaller ships. Over a 10 year period the smaller Midway class carrier suffered 10% greater flight deck accidents than did the larger flattops.[16] Larger carriers with 4 catapults could also put more aircraft in the air at a faster rate; a capability crucial to defense of the flattop against surprise air attack. Lehman also suggested that VSTOL aircraft held little promise of further advance and while many could be carried on a smaller aircraft carrier, their utility in high end warfare was limited.

Finally, naval intelligence efforts in the late 1970’s and early 1980’s determined that the Soviet Navy likely had no plans to significantly interdict NATO convoys to Europe in the event of a major war. U.S. taps on Soviet naval communications pods revealed that the Soviets most important fleet mission was defense of their ballistic missile submarines based in “bastions” within the Barents Sea. This intelligence confirmed what analysts like Robert Herrick and CNA’s James McConnell had said throughout the 1970’s; that the Soviet’s had a generally defensive naval strategy.[17] This revelation gave further support to the idea that an offensive naval strategy was the best choice for naval conflict with the USSR. An offensive war concept was better suited to large carrier operations than the small flattops conceived to fight antisubmarine and anti-surface battles in defense of NATO resupply convoys. Together the analysis and intelligence work of the late 1970’s and early 1980’s effectively ended the third carrier crisis of the 20^th century.

The present carrier “crisis” contains many elements of these past examples. As in the 1920’s, the current carrier air wing is too small and lacks the range necessary to effectively strike opponents without facing a significant response. Many assumptions in the wake of the First Gulf War of 1991 suggested that future conflicts would be joint and combined air/ground task force operations against rouge states and non-state actors around the Eurasian littoral. Land-based air support would always be nearby and plentiful. These assumptions, however, should be discarded in a new age where peer competitors and non-state actors exist side by side and carrier-based aviation may be the only component in the air component commander’s arsenal.

The budget is again tight as it was after the Second World War and in the late 1970’s. The nation cannot sustain another military buildup funded on debt and no miracle growth in the economy appears certain on the horizon. The other services will fight with equal vigor to keep their own assets and popular social spending programs are hard to curtail, let alone eliminate. The Navy will need creative ways to get more out of the carriers it has. The carrier force must be re-balanced with some regions getting more than others dependent on the availability of land-based aviation. Some carriers could be placed in reserve status in order to ensure that those that remain are fully capable of high-end warfare against peer competitors.

The range and strike capability of current carrier-based aircraft is substantially diminished in comparison with its late Cold War incarnation. Today’s carrier air wing boasts 62 aircraft as compared with the 80-90 aircraft wing of the Cold War.[18] The carrier air wing will need to be increased with longer range, manned or unmanned aircraft to return it to the capability of the late 1980’s/early 1990’s.

Despite these problems, no one weapon system appears poised to relieve the carrier as the primary U.S. naval offensive component. A mass of missile-shooting ships and submarines is required to achieve the same level of consistent ordnance delivery provided by a large carrier. Surface ship missile shooters may be affected by adverse weather conditions. An increase in the percentage of U.S. strike capability concentrated in submarines could result in equally rapid opponent advances in antisubmarine warfare. It is very difficult to retain technological advantages given the global diffusion of knowledge enabled by the information age. Future naval victories are more likely to depend on superior operational and tactical employment of existing platforms and payloads rather than technological superiority.

The carrier remains a flexible, re-configurable platform with significant potential going into the 21^st century. The U.S. may have to reduce the overall number of large carriers it actively employs and tailor that presence to specific geographic areas where carrier-based airpower is an advantage. There has not yet been an active demonstration of a superior strike platform/system as there was in the war games of the 1920’s and 1930’s. The large U.S. aircraft carrier will likely survive this fourth challenge to its place atop the naval hierarchy, but it must increase the range and capability of its attendant air wing to achieve this goal.

Steve Wills is a retired surface warfare officer and a PhD student in military history at Ohio University. His focus areas are modern U.S. naval and military reorganization efforts and British naval strategy and policy from 1889-1941.

[1] David K. Brown, Nelson to Vanguard, Warship Design and Development, 1923-1945, Annapolis, Md, Naval Institute Press, 2000, p. 39.

[2] John Kuehn, Agents of Innovation, The General Board and the Design of the Fleet that Defeated the Japanese Navy, Annapolis, Md, The Naval Institute Press, 2008, pp. 102, 103.

[3] 8 1/2 BILLION IS VOTED FOR 1,500 WARSHIPS; House Passes Bill for Great Carrier Force and Escorts, With Battleships Left Out, New York Times, June 18, 1942.

[4] Jeffrey Barlow, From Hot War to Cold, The U.S. Navy and National Security Affairs, 1945-1954, Standford, CA, Stanford University Press, 2009, p. 212.

[5] Ibid.

[6] George W. Baer, One Hundred Years of Seapower, Stanford, CA, Stanford University press, 1994, p. 328.

[7] Paul B. Ryan, First Line of Defense, The U.S. Navy Since 1945, Stanford, CA, The Hoover Institute Press, 1981, p. 14.

[8] Ryan, p. 104.

[9] Congressional Budget Office, The U.S. Sea Control Mission: Forces, Capabilities, and Requirements, June 1977.

[10] Frank Leith Jones, Blowtorch, Robert Komer, Vietnam and American Cold War Strategy, Annapolis, Md, Naval Institute Press, 2013, pp. 251, 252.

[11] Wayne P. Hughes, Jr., (2002) Navy Operations Research. Operations Research. p. 7.

[12] Ibid.

[13] John F. Lehman, Aircraft Carriers, The Real Choices, Washington D.C., Center for International and Strategic Studies, Georgetown University, 1978, p. 11.

[14] Ibid, p. 41.

[15] Ibid, p. 52.

[16] Ibid, p. 57.

[17] Christopher Ford and David Rosenberg, The Admiral’s Advantage, U.S. Navy Operational Intelligence in World War 2 and the Cold War, Annapolis, MD, Naval Institute Press, 2005, p. 79.

[18] Jerry Hendrix. “The Future of the Aircraft Carrier looks Dim,” War on the Rocks, October 21, 2015.

Book Review, History, Theory

God and The Great Naval Theorist

November 9, 2015 Guest Author 3 Comments

God and Seapower: The Influence of Religion on Alfred Thayer Mahan by Suzanne Geissler. USNI Press, October 15, 2015. 280pp. $39.95.

For many of us, Alfred Thayer Mahan is certainly no stranger. His theories and writings have been talked about and analyzed for years. They have been savored by everyone from the President of the United States, the lowly Naval War College graduate, and many others around the world. Thus, it is always refreshing to read something new and interesting about this well-known and often talked about historical figure. Suzanne Geissler has done just that. Professor Geissler has delivered some fresh insights and probably stirred some debate with her new book, God and Seapower. The book is a fascinating look into Mahan’s life by focusing on his religious beliefs. At 280 pages this book is a nice size; something that can be read in a week and yet she still manages to cover ATM’s life, from childhood to wise naval theorist, quite nicely. Recently I had the opportunity to interview Professor Geissler about her new book. What follows is the transcript of our interview which was conducted over e-mail.

Why Mahan and Religion? Why did you want to write this book?

My specialty is American religious history, but I have always been interested in military and naval history, more as a hobby than a professional specialization. Many years ago – I don’t remember why or in what context – I read that Mahan was an Episcopalian. I’m an Episcopalian, too, so I just filed that away as an interesting factoid, but didn’t think much more about it. Then some years later I read Robert Seager II’s biography of Mahan and came away disappointed in the book, but intrigued further about Mahan’s religious involvement. I did a little digging and discovered that he wrote extensively about religion and church issues. There was tons of stuff out there that no one had ever looked at in a serious way. I thought there had to be a significant story here.

The book, in part, is a counter argument to one of Mahan’s most well-known biographers, Robert Seager II. Readers will quickly realize that you disagree with many of Seager’s opinions. Who was Seager and why do you disagree with him so strongly?

Seager was a former merchant mariner who had become an academic historian. A few years prior to his biography coming out he, along with Doris Maguire, had co-edited Mahan’s papers. He used that as the raw material for his biography of him. The problem with the book, as I think is readily apparent after only reading a few pages, is that Seager thoroughly disliked Mahan. Now I’m not saying that a biographer has to like his subject, but there needs to be at least an attempt to be fair and look at the sources in an impartial manner. But Seager so disliked Mahan – as though he knew him personally and couldn’t stand the guy – that it colored the entire book. Everything Mahan did throughout his whole life, from the trivial to the monumental, is presented in the worst possible light. Also, the whole book is written in a sarcastic tone – what today we would call snarky – that becomes really tiresome after a while. My biggest beef with Seager is that he loathes – and I don’t think that’s too strong a word – Mahan’s religious devotion and piety and thinks it is the root of all that makes Mahan so – and these are Seager’s words – arrogant, egotistical, racist, to name a few. Seager is entitled to his own opinion, of course, but the more I got into the sources, Mahan’s own letters and writings, the more I saw that Seager had no interest in being fair or even attempting to understand Mahan in the context of his own time. My other complaint about Seager is that on numerous occasions he either disregarded what a source clearly said or twisted it out of context in order to present Mahan in a bad light.

On what points do you agree with Seager on Mahan?

The only thing I agree with Seager on is his statement that Mahan wrote the most influential book by an American in the nineteenth century.

You mention Mahan’s father and uncle were two of the biggest religious influences in his life. How so?

Mahan’s father, Dennis Hart Mahan, was a former Army officer and professor of engineering at West Point for almost fifty years. He was a monumental figure at West Point and in the Army officer corps. In those days the field of military engineering included strategy, tactics, and military history. So Alfred had a role model of exceptional brilliance whom Army officers – including people such as Grant and Sherman – held in awe. Alfred got his introduction to military history through his father. But Dennis was also a devout Christian and Episcopalian who modeled those attributes to his son. Dennis epitomized the 19^th– century ideal of a “Christian gentleman” but in a way that was genuine, not superficial. Milo Mahan, Dennis’s younger half-brother, was an Episcopal priest and professor of church history at General Theological Seminary, the Episcopal seminary in New York City. Alfred lived with him for two years (when Alfred was fourteen – fifteen and attending Columbia University), a period which imbued him with Milo’s High Church piety. For the next fourteen years or so, Milo was Alfred’s main theological mentor. They had an extensive correspondence and Milo provided Alfred with reading lists of theological works which Alfred read on long sea voyages. As Alfred told his fiancée, Milo was the man he went to with any biblical or theological questions. All that reading, under Milo’s guidance, in effect gave Alfred the equivalent of a seminary education.

Mahan’s father, I didn’t realize, was well-known in political and military circles in the 19th century. When did Mahan step out of his father’s shadow?

One of my favorite anecdotes occurs in the waning days of the Civil War. Alfred is on Admiral Dahlgren’s staff stationed off Savannah when the victorious General William Tecumseh Sherman arrives in the city. Alfred goes ashore to see Sherman bearing a congratulatory telegram from his father. Sherman greets him by saying “What, the son of old Dennis?” Certainly, for more than half of his active duty career Alfred was best known for being Dennis’s son. He doesn’t really emerge from his father’s shadow until the publication of his first book The Gulf and Inland Waters in 1883 when he’s forty-three. This book leads to his appointment at the Naval War College which in turn leads to the publication of his lectures as The Influence of Sea Power Upon History.

Mahan loved his dog, Jomini. And as you quote, Mahan believed his dog would go to heaven when he died. Was this belief, that a dog’s soul goes to heaven, abnormal for an Episcopalian at this time?

Mahan never expounds on the reasons that he believes his dogs, Jomini and Rovie, went to heaven, so I have to extrapolate based on what I know about this issue and Mahan’s own beliefs.

Alfred Thayer Mahan's dog, Jomini. Courtesy of USNI Press. — Alfred Thayer Mahan’s dog, Jomini. Courtesy of USNI Press.

As I understand it, the Roman Catholic Church teaches that animals don’t go to heaven because they don’t have souls. Most Protestants, though, considered the “soul” issue irrelevant and based their view – that we will see our beloved pets in heaven – on the fact that animals clearly are part of creation and God has promised that all creation will be redeemed (Romans 8:21). Mahan knew his Bible thoroughly so I’m willing to bet that he would have based his view on this scripture rather than abstract speculation on whether animals have souls or not.

One of your more, shall we say, contentious statements, is that Mahan’s The Influence of Sea Power Upon History was inspired by God. Could you expand on this?

Well, I don’t claim that, but Mahan certainly did. In his autobiography, From Sail to Steam, he made reference to his “special call” to be a naval historian, or, more specifically, to be the expositor of the importance of sea power on the course of history. He never claimed that he discovered the concept. He was always generous in crediting previous historians whose thought influenced his. But he claimed that “in the fullness of time” – a biblical expression — the call was given to him to be the one who explained it and drew the correct implications from it.

What did Mahan think of Catholics? Other Christians? Other religions?

I’m simplifying a lot here, but, basically, Mahan had a kind of layered view of religious categories. Christianity was better than other, i.e. non-Christian, religions (though Judaism was in a special category as Christianity’s older brother, so to speak). Within Christianity, Protestantism was best, and within Protestantism, Anglicanism was best. Having said that, I should point out that the groupings within Christianity related mainly to polity (types of church governance), liturgy (forms of worship), and history. Mahan clearly had his preferences, but he never claimed that, for example, there was only one true church. For him the most important thing was to be a Christian. If you loved Jesus and accepted him as Lord and Savior, it did not matter what denomination you belonged to. In a similar vein, Mahan once stated that he would cooperate with any Christian group in evangelistic or missions work as long as such a group did not include Unitarians. He did not consider them Christians since they did not recognize the divinity of Jesus. One of the things that makes Mahan so fascinating to me is that he’s not easily pigeon-holed into conventional religious categories. On the one hand he’s very much a High Church Episcopalian, but he’s also very much a born-again evangelical.

Was Mahan able to separate his writing? That is, did he keep naval theory separate from his religious writing? It seems like he was able to live in two different worlds on the page, yet his religious life infused everything he did.

Mahan was actually quite sophisticated in his historical methodology. He understood that history and theology were two different fields, each with its own ways of interpreting events. As a Christian he believed that God was the sovereign creator and ruler of the universe and God’s decrees always came to pass. However, he understood that God operated through what theologians called “secondary causes,” that is the choices made by human beings and their resultant actions. A historian deals with secondary causes. It was extremely rare for Mahan to speculate on God’s purposes in his naval history writings.

US Naval Academy Chapel circa 1850s. Courtesy of USNI Press.

For those readers that wish to read a book on Mahan after they read your book, what do you recommend?

I recommend Jon T. Sumida’s Inventing Grand Strategy and Teaching Command: The Classic Works of Alfred Thayer Mahan Reconsidered. This is a fascinating book full of original insights on Mahan.

Are there other historians working today that do not have a theology background, yet pay serious consideration to their subject’s religious belief? Specifically, military biographies?

This is difficult for me to answer since I don’t really know who is working on what topics, especially in military biography. But the two naval historians who were most helpful and encouraging to me when I undertook this project, Jon Sumida and John Hattendorf, are both very interested in religion and the role it plays in people’s lives. And they both have a positive view of it rather than a negative one. Hattendorf, particularly, is very knowledgeable about the Episcopal Church. In his editing of the writings of Admiral Stephen B. Luce he does incorporate a discussion of Luce’s piety.

Why do you think religion so often takes a back seat when we discuss historical figures — past or present? Or does it?

As I mentioned, my field is religious history, so for most of the people I read and study about, by definition, religion is important. However, you’re right, in other historical sub-fields religion is usually ignored or misunderstood. For example, Martin Luther King, Jr. comes to mind. Even in a case such as that, where you would think the religious angle would be obvious – his being a clergyman and pastor — there are some writers who have downplayed that and made his story one of “social justice” and politics, completely ignoring the biblical roots of his thought, not to mention his dramatic conversion experience. I don’t like to generalize about historians, but in order to answer your question, I’ll do it anyway! Most present day historians are either indifferent or hostile to religion, especially the notion of an individual having a personal encounter with God, or believing that God has called that person to a specific task in life. Some writers see this sort of thing as just an eccentricity, not necessarily bad, but of no real significance. Others take a more negative view and see religious faith as a personality defect that could have pernicious consequences. One thinks of all the historians who have blamed the defects of the Versailles Treaty on Woodrow Wilson’s Presbyterian piety.

Suzanne Geissler received her Ph.D. in history from Syracuse University’s Maxwell School of Citizenship and Public Affairs. She also holds a Master of Theological Studies degree in church history from Drew University. She is professor of history at William Paterson University in Wayne, NJ. Her previous books include Jonathan Edwards to Aaron Burr Jr., Lutheranism and Anglicanism in Colonial New Jersey, and “A Widening Sphere of Usefulness”: Newark Academy 1774-1993.

Lieutenant Commander Christopher Nelson is a US naval intelligence officer and recent graduate of the US Naval War College and the Maritime Advanced Warfighting School in Newport, Rhode Island. The opinions above do not necessarily reflect those of the US Department of Defense or the US Navy.

Fostering the Discussion on Securing the Seas.