After offering their preeminent maxim of tactical success, Attack, the Robisons wrote, in amplification, “Prescribing an approach which enables an action to be opened with full firepower enforces the soundest of all tactical maxims.”* Every reader will feel comfortable with this, a solid deduction from historical research, an old shoe indeed, except perhaps that it eschews the notion of keeping a reserve. There are hints, however, from our examination of the air and surface battles in and after World War II, that something is amiss when the goal of concentrating offensive force is untempered.
To get at what has happened since the time of the Robisons, let us develop a new model of the dynamics of modern combat. I will not repudiate the concept of marshalling firepower—far from it. The wiser course is to go directly to the processes themselves and let the principle of concentration find its own expression.
First we recall the description of an aircraft carrier attack as a phenomenal pulse of striking power with which an air wing could possibly sink several carriers, but in the course of the Pacific war did not. Second we recall the night surface engagements in the Solomons and the shocking multiship destructiveness unleashed by a spread of torpedoes, analogous in power to a missile attack. It is apparent that a modern warship armed with ballistic or cruise missiles and supported with adequate scouting has the capacity to sink several warships, more than its weight of the enemy.
Trident-class submarines, if they could be targeted, would go down with 192 warheads, more than the number of nuclear weapons that would probably be expended to sink them. These huge submarines seem to have been designed on a cost-effective basis; economies of scale drove the concentration in each vessel of twenty-four missiles, each armed with eight MIRV warheads, without regard for the possibility that over their lifetime the submarines might be detectable someday. A calculation that admitted even a remote possibility of tracking these submarines or attacking them in port or at dispersed harbors would have resulted in the distribution of Trident missiles to more submarines, even though that is a less expedient way to deploy them.*
The most striking illustration of the concentration of warheads in the modern nuclear arsenal is the MX missile, which carries about ten. A natural but unforseen consequence of SALT I, which counted launchers rather than warheads, is that the land-based MX system is considered destabilizing because it offers the enemy an opportunity to destroy many warheads with one in a first strike.
Now, each of these weapon systems, being an indivisible massing of firepower, potentially vulnerable to some kind of successful enemy targeting and first strike, creates a tactical problem. Let us waive the particulars of each case and analyze the situation in more general terms, abandoning all preconceptions and leaving open all questions of massing, concentration, and the possibility of a reserve component. We will question one maxim in particular, namely, Always use superior force to attack a part of the enemy while forestalling him from doing the same.
A Salvo Model of Modern Missile Combat
Let us define the core characteristics of small missile ships typical of the warships for which we have combat data. We will apply them in a “salvo model” that takes the same form found in a naval research journal and a publication of the Military Operations Research Society.* We will assume two sides with numbers of ships, A and B, having the following characteristics:
—Staying power of a defender is the number of nominal ASCM hits (an Exocet could be the nominal missile) needed to put the ship out of action, denoted a1 and b1
—Salvo size of each attacker is the number of missiles that will be launched successfully, denoted a2 and b2. These numbers do not appear in the two salvo equations because only a fraction of the missiles will hit, denoted Ha and Hb.
—Striking power of each attacker is the number of accurate (“good”) ASCMs launched, denoted α and β. This is the number of missiles that will hit if there is no defense.
—Defensive power is the number of good shots that each defender will destroy or deflect when alert and ready to do so, denoted a3 and b3. (Survivability is the combined resistance of a ship due to both defensive power and staying power.)
—The equations give the number of enemy ships ΔA or ΔB, put out of action by a salvo.
The two equations are:
is the effect of A’s salvo in B’s ships put out of action.
is the effect of B’s salvo in A’s ships put out of action.†
Implicitly the missiles in the salvo are spread uniformly over the defender’s ships. A uniform distribution is not necessarily best, because if each defender extracts an equal number of good shots, the whole strike may be defeated, whereas an uneven distribution concentrated against only some targets would put at least those targets out of action. It is easy to calculate what the distribution ought to be to achieve the most damage. In the past the knowledge and control were never sufficient for optimal distribution of fire when targets were in plain view, and it is less likely that an optimal distribution of a salvo will be achieved in the future. The assumption of a uniform distribution is as good as any for explanatory computations.
Also implicit in the equations is that staying power is linear; if two hits put a ship out of action, one hit reduces its striking power and defensive power by half.
In the formula, defensive effectiveness ignores the existence of leakers: the aggregate defense is perfect until it is saturated with more missiles than it can defend against. It is not hard to introduce the effect of leakers mathematically. We will do that later in the section, “Massing for Defense.”
Having seen the way the simple models of battle-line gunfire and carrier striking power were developed and applied, the reader will understand the reasons to be the same now for similar simplicity—analysts call it transparency—to help explain the nature of salvo warfare in the missile age.
First we will put some purely hypothetical numbers in the model to show the basic character of salvo warfare when a ship has the firepower to take out more than its weight of the enemy. To illustrate the effects of great striking power in a small warship, let us say that one of B’s ships can launch eight missiles of which six are well aimed, in other words β = 6 good shots. Also say one hit will put an enemy ship out of action (OOA), so a1 = 1, and each defender can shoot down one but only one incoming missile with point defenses, so a3 = 1. Then one attacking B has the potential to put three of A out of action:
But all three enemy targets will only be killed if the circumstances are right, including first detection and tracking by B, perfect distribution of fire, and simultaneous attack with all targets within range. After allowing for imperfection, it is still evident that a massed force can be vulnerable to effective attack by a smaller force, because when one ship in a formation is tracked and subject to attack, all the rest are, too. In this example the defending ships have meager defensive power and staying power. The tactical effect when their defense is stronger is a consideration that we must examine later.
Table 11-1. First Strike Survivors (A/B)*
If we construct a table as we did our table of aircraft carrier pulsed power (table 4-1, page 101) but with the dramatic increase in striking power conjectured above, then it would show that B, even though outnumbered 1:3, can win against odds that look impossible in a static comparison. Table 11-1 shows some basic possibilities.
Implicitly I have described the tactics depicted in figure 11-1a, which has both sides’ forces massed. In the example, ships on both sides carry great firepower that is overexposed to enemy surprise attack. So a better tactic would be to spread the missile ships in the hope that not all would be detected and attacked simultaneously (figure 11-1b), or to commit missile ships one at a time in the hope that at least one out of three would get off a first attack (figure 11-1c). We earlier presumed that something like the tactics in figures 11-1b or 11-1c was embodied in the Japanese carrier battle plans in World War II, the Japanese intention being to deliver a highly destructive surprise attack with one undetected force while the other served as bait.
In the circumstances I have set up, the battle will be decided by scouting effectiveness and weapon range. Less obviously, the choice of tactics will also be governed by scouting effectiveness and weapon range. For the sake of discussion, assume that scouting is accomplished entirely by on-board sensors, and that each missile ship has its own independent chance to detect the enemy. If B now tries tactic 3, a sequential attack, and if his sensor is as good as any of A’s, so that he has an equal chance of detecting any one ship first (we omit the complicating possibility of passive targeting, to be taken up later), then B’s chance of detecting A’s force before his leading ship is detected by one of the enemy sensors is only one in eight. He will lose the advantage of surprise to A’s superior aggregation of scouting rather than to superior firepower.
In the same circumstances, let B try tactic 2. In a formal sense, tactic 2 has no advantage over tactic 1. It is more reasonable to assume, however, that if B’s units have an equal chance of detecting A first, A is confronted with the more difficult scouting problem of having to detect all of B’s ships individually first in order not to suffer the loss of three ships. While it is likely that some of B’s ships will be detected first and lost, if only one of his ships detects first, it will devastate all of A.
Next, suppose that A has longer-range missiles but that B has longer-range sensors. As in tactic 2, B should be disposed to try and get at least one ship within effective range. If he has good communications, one ship only should be radiating its sensors. Depending on the passive targeting potential of A, the radiating ship may be destroyed, but one of the others may be able to close and attack decisively. If one of B’s can track A while staying outside of A’s missile range, B’s tracking ship may be able to guide another ship quietly into range with a fire-control solution for a silent attack.
If one or both sides have offboard sensors—satellites, for example—the analysis is quite different. If A’s missiles outrange B’s, then in the circumstances, the battle is reduced to a contest where A alone is stalking. The outranged force B, if it must be committed to fight at all, would try tactic 2 and hope that A would make a mistake in the coordination and distribution of fire.
Perhaps A is predominantly land-based. Then sea-based side B has a simpler scouting problem against his immobile enemy (precise targeting may be something else). B should try to close covertly and attack undetected. But recall the Battle of Midway and the effect American air power located on the island had on Japanese plans: if A’s land-based force also has a small mobile sea-based force with potent offensive firepower, then his land base may draw enough of B’s attention to allow A’s sea-based component to attack with devastating effect.
These illustrations can be made explicit in the salvo equations by attaching a term for scouting effectiveness (I use σ) as a component of the left member (e.g., αβB). The scouting term takes value from zero to one. Zero means no information about the enemy and no ability to hit any targets. Zero also means the targets, though detected and tracked, are beyond effective range. A value of One means all targets are within range and each is being tracked, so that every enemy ship may be fired at (given enough missiles, of course). To put a numerical estimate on σ it is necessary to run through a thought process as I have just done, so σ is a compact way to summarize a great deal of tactical thought. Another useful term is defender alertness (I use the symbol δ) to modify the right-hand expression (e.g., δb3B). Like σ, δ takes values from zero to one. Scouting effectiveness also affects δ, because full defensive potential is hard to achieve without an awareness of the enemy’s presence and location. Both σ and δ can represent human factors, too, such as states of training and readiness, always as a degradation from the full salvo potential (αA or βB) and defensive potential (a3A or b3B).
The above discussion is a paradigm of modern missile warfare. It pertains especially to nuclear warfare, in the sense that offensive firepower per ship is very destructive, the potential to mass defensive firepower in mutual support is difficult, and scouting and weapon ranges favor the offense in new and remarkable ways that encourage the distribution of striking power among smaller ships. Do these circumstances justify commitment of one unit after another because of the greater potential destructive power of small units of force against larger units? The answer hinges on the correlation of scouting potentialities.
Ballistic-and cruise-missile submarine deployments mimic many of the attributes of single-file weapon systems: awkward C2, virtually no defensive firepower, no capacity for mutual defense, and nearly total dependence on first detection and targeting for success.* The force-on-force tactical relationships of nuclear war have not been discussed in unclassified literature. Perhaps open discussion is not yet necessary and may never be particularly desirable. But SSBNs are always subject to search and attack in some restricted way. The ramifications are explored in D. C. Daniel’s ASW and Superpower Strategic Stability. His book and other less well-developed open studies however, are concerned with technology, strategy, and policy issues. The tactical side—how the battle would be fought in detail—is at least as significant.
In his detailed technical analysis Daniel shows that SSBNs at sea are very difficult to detect, track, and target, but are easily destroyed upon localization. This is the essence of the tactical situation under discussion. However, it is not only nuclear weapons that alter the classically correct tactics of massing. It is also the suddenness and destructive potential of the modern conventional missile strike. Use superior force is a maxim that by itself is misleading because a markedly smaller force may have adequate net striking power to win. The dual notions that govern modern tactics are (1) aggregating enough force and (2) using scouting and C2 to strike effectively first with it. As for “forestalling the enemy,” the traditional way of doing so, by maneuver or greater weapon range, has to be augmented with modern concepts of antiscouting.
Variations and Historical Numbers
Of course the numbers that go in the equations make all the difference. For example, if each B had twice as much staying power (b1= 2), then A’s potential against him would be cut in half:
But if B had twice as much defensive power (b3 = 2), then
Many relationships between the different warship attributes in the equations have been worked out, and some are quite interesting. To discuss all the mathematical relationships would imply an excessive faith in a model, especially when we have more basic things to cover in the chapter. Nevertheless, four conclusions from the aforementioned salvo model research paper are solid, important, general properties that do not depend on particular inputs:
—Unstable circumstances arise in salvo warfare. Stable means the persistence of victory by one side over the other in a variety of different combat situations. The instability is evident because small changes in the left- and right-hand terms of the numerator (striking power and defensive power) result in big swings in the number of ships lost.
—Weak staying power aggravates the observed instability. Staying power is weak when the denominator is small relative to the numerator. This is often the case because only one or two missiles will put most contemporary warships out of action (the same is true for torpedoes and mines).
—Staying power is the ship design element least affected by the particulars of a battle, including poor tactics. Good or bad readiness, scouting, equipment performance, and tactical coordination affect the outcome greatly and more or less unpredictably. A well-built ship with strong staying power (which makes a bigger denominator) acts as a hedge against tactical mistakes (which change the numerator).
—Numerical superiority is the force attribute that is consistently the most advantageous. For example, if A’s unit striking power, staying power, and defensive power are all twice that of B, nevertheless in an exchange of salvoes if B has twice as many ships it will achieve parity of outcome (the same fraction of its force will be put out of action). This is a mathematical consequence of the equations.
If one wanted to play around with the salvo equations to reach his own conclusions about missile combat, are there any real numbers to replace the ones used up to now? The answer is yes, with the important proviso that they apply to engagements between small combatants. Only one incident has occurred in which ASCMs fired at warships were defended by surface combatants with long range surface-to-air missiles. That was the attack on the USS Missouri by Iraqis with two Silkworms described in chapter 6. Otherwise nearly all the battles were between corvette-sized ships or fast-attack craft. John Schulte analyzed attacks totaling 222 ASCMs from 1967 to 1992—every one that his research could uncover in the unclassified literature.* The results are as follows:
—Against defenseless targets, mostly large commercial ships, 57½ hits were achieved by 63 ASCMs.† As a result, 12 ships were sunk and 42 put out of action. The probability of hit per shot against defenseless ships = .913.
—Against defendable targets, in other words warships capable of defending themselves that failed to do so such as the USS Stark and HMS Sheffield, 26 hits were achieved by 38 ASCMs. As a result 6 ships were sunk and 13 put out of action. The probability of hit against defendable warships = .684.*
—Against defended targets, in other words warships that attempted to defend themselves, 32 hits were achieved by 121 ASCMs, resulting in 13 ships sunk and 16 put out of action. The probability of hit against ships that defended themselves = .264.
An important number that must be inferred from the above data is the defender’s performance in defeating ASCMs, because some of the ASCMs that failed to hit a defended target would have missed had there been no defense. If we assume the same fraction of ASCM misses that occurred in attacks against defenseless and defendable targets, then the fraction of ASCMs leaking through the defense was .320, not .264. Thus, defender effectiveness in defeating well-aimed ASCMs is a probability of .68, or about two out of three. Schulte could find no instance in which active point defense was the certain cause of success, because passive defenses in the form of jamming or chaff were used in every successful defense. Be that as it may, soft-kill systems were the more important defensive measure.
Heretofore I have used simple combat models to help describe the nature of fleet actions with ships of the line, battleships, aircraft carriers, and now missile ships. The idea is to get beyond firepower scores and other indices, such as tonnage, number of guns, and weight of broadside, and into the dynamics of the battle. Some naval officers used similar simple methods to explore new equipment designs and better tactical doctrine. I am going to do so with the salvo equations now.
I well know that simulations and wargames are the choice du jour and are being constructed and applied at great expense and effort. Yet simulations and wargames attempt to incorporate more detail than can ever be known about past or future battles. The alternative is to seek artful simplicity that is not pretentious but describes the circumstances clearly and understandably, as I will try to do in the examples to follow.
There will be readers who are put off by numbers and equations. They can skip to “A Recapitulation” at the end of the chapter, which summarizes what the calculations imply, but with the warning that when an imaginary campaign is described in the next chapter, the reader may want to come back to the computations.
Thus far I have made this fundamental point: that modern missiles have brought into question and sometimes overturned the principle of massing forces. A small naval vessel heavily armed with missiles in some tactical circumstances can take down enemy ships out of all proportion to its size. Naval officers will want some other examples where the circumstances are less clear-cut and the situation is more competitive. Navy tacticians should be comfortable with quantitative thinking, because tactics and logistics have always required computations. Knowing how much, how far, how fast, and by whom is fundamental to the conduct of all actual military operations.
1. The Basic Case
The two mirror-image equations give identical results, thus:
In one exchange each side loses half its force.
2. Victory by Attacking First
If, however, B outscouts A and delivers a first effective attack, then A’s response with only five surviving ships will be inadequate and ineffective:
None of B’s ships are hit, with a five-shot defensive cushion as margin for error.
3. Victory with More Numbers
Change the size of B’s force to B = 15, with all other inputs as in the basic case. Now if as before A tries and succeeds in distributing his missiles uniformly, the effectiveness of A’s ten ships against B is:
B’s fifteen-ship fleet has this effect:
All ten of A are OOA, and B’s salvo has 2½ ships’ worth of offensive overkill as margin for error.
The reader also sees the sensitivity of the results to the inputs and the instability represented by the equations: a moderate increase in B’s fleet size creates a big change in his favor. I think this is a real phenomenon, although it is probably no more important than other factors such as strike coordination and defense alertness by means of a tight command and control network. This can be seen when the reader tries for himself a degradation due to scouting deficiency on one side or the other (try σ = .7), or in defensive readiness of one side (try δ = .7).
4. Victory When Lesser Force Quality Is Offset by Greater Force Quantity
B’s advantage in example 3 depends on having a bigger force than A or deploying it more wisely. Now we give B a different fleet, which would cost about as much as the basic fleet. Change B’s characteristics as follows:
New fleet size: |
B = 20 (instead of 10) |
β = 2 (instead of 3) |
|
New staying power: |
b1 = 1 (instead of 2) |
New defensive power: |
b3 = 1½ (instead of 2) |
Again under the assumption that a commander succeeds in distributing his fire uniformly, the result for each side in an exchange of fire is:
This is a specific instance of the general truth about the salvo equations mentioned above. It is always the case that (insofar as the equations are concerned) a numerical advantage in ships is the most valuable attribute a fleet can have. Specifically if B is twice as numerous as A, then for parity in percentage losses each A must have twice the striking power, twice the defensive power, and twice the staying power of each B.
Salvo Equations for Impending Battle
Up to now I have restricted the use of models to illustrate combat dynamics of two sides in tactical action against each other. What about applying the salvo equations in real situations? Doing so depends on whether the contexts (the great variables) described in chapter 10 are sufficiently known. Uncertainties about coming combat events make it unlikely that a detailed simulation will offer much extra insight. In addition, a simulation usually takes time to prepare, make repeated runs, and analyze the results. Simulations may sometimes be useful for campaign planning when the pressure of time is less extreme. In 1991 and early 1992 the U.S. Army, Air Force, and Joint Staff used a variety of simulations and wargames to anticipate the operations against Iraq and study the relative worth of alternative employments.
For battle planning and execution at the tactical level, something like the salvo equations, which is easy to use and understand, will serve better. Because of the simplicity the tactical commander and his staff will understand that the results are not predictions. At the same time, the equations serve as a checkoff list of essential information. To apply the salvo equations the tactical commander and his staff must know the two fleets’ characteristics sufficiently to write the inputs. The inputs must be in accord with the tactical commander’s plan and staff judgment about enemy capabilities and plan. By “tactical plan” I mean the way scouts are deployed, the ships’ formation or disposition, the expected coordination by means of a communications network, and tactical decisions to achieve deconfliction (freedom of fire without severe fratricide). The plan affects σ and δ especially. Since a commander cannot be prepared to make tactical decisions without these inputs, it is not demanding too much to expect them from staff work.
Unlike the four previous examples, the composition of each force is usually a mixture of different classes of ship in a heterogeneous fleet. The model is exercised with aggregated task elements and the results are expressed as aggregate losses to the whole fleet. Let us see how the aggregation works when we use the equations to enlighten tactical circumstances and sharpen a commander’s battle plan.
For real planning one must have real numbers. My real ship characteristics and their effectiveness numbers will be taken from history: ship salvo sizes and hit probabilities, defense effectiveness, and ship staying power observed in battles involving missile ships.
For the example I am going to oppose two fleets of very different sizes. One fleet, called Small or S, comprises seven 800-ton missile corvettes. They are armed with a total of fifty-six missiles having Harpoon characteristics. The other towers over S in size and combat potential, so it is labeled T. It comprises twenty-five warships ranging in displacement from 400 to 3,000 tons. T is armed with 180 missiles having Penguin or Harpoon characteristics. Defenses consist of a variety of point-defense weapons, chaff, electronic jamming, and decoys. We will homogenize the characteristics of each side into the following inputs:
The Case of an Inferior, Heavily Outnumbered Force
If a grand melee ensues in which all ships participate, the size of the disaster for Small is computed to be:
T has the striking potential to put all of S out of action more than twelve times!
T has a generous defensive margin for error.
The defeat of S is no surprise: when all ships are able to shoot at all the enemy, all of S are put out of action and none of T are hit. Moreover, even if S surprises T and fires first, he fires ineffectively and does no damage. Perhaps the extent to which S is outclassed comes as a bit of a surprise? After all, he is inferior in firepower by only a little worse than 3:1. If he does the calculation, S would not wish to fight not just because he will lose the battle but also because he will lose all his ships with nothing to show for their sacrifice.
Thus far we have not given S a mission. Let us stipulate circumstances so grave that S must engage T. Although he is certain to lose, he should try to sell his fleet dearly and damage the enemy as much as possible. If the Small tactical commander sees the situation as we have exhibited it, then he can compute how much damage his fleet will do if it concentrates all fifty of its PGMs on part of the enemy. That may be hard to do—tactics are notoriously difficult to execute—so we will keep the tactical commands simple and executable. The intellectual part of the problem is to decide what fraction of the enemy to attack. Sometimes it is a tactical possibility to shoot just at the juicy targets. These would include the big ships, because they have not much more defense or staying power than the small ones.
The juicy targets would also include transports or amphibious ships if any were present. Recall the air attacks by Argentine fighter-bombers during the British landings in San Carlos Water in May 1982. The Argentine aircraft did not try to strike the amphibious ships. They behaved as if they thought they might gain ascendancy by wiping out the escorts, but that was too tough a task. The pilots said later that they merely followed their instincts to attack the ships that were shooting at them. If they had done some calculations in advance they would have realized their best contribution at the beachhead lay in hitting some of the ships carrying troops.
At the moment we are interested in allocating Small’s salvo against part of T, just to do some harm in an exchange. The Small commander sees that each of his seven corvettes can launch eight missiles, of which about four will be good shots. Each enemy ship’s survivability value is three shots (1.5 PGMs shot down and 1.5 hits to put a ship OOA). To keep the tactics simple, Small’s commander orders each ship to fire all eight of its missiles at one and only one enemy and in a compact pulse. The effect expected (or hoped for!) then would be that all Smalls together would take out seven of the enemy. Since (by assumption) all twenty-five of the enemy are expected to be in a single formation to concentrate fire, the chance of two S ships choosing the same target is small.
Here is an alternative tactic and computation. If S attacks only half of the enemy—say the left or right half—then the attack would be against about twelve ships. Applying the salvo model with the prior assumption that the PGMs will be spread uniformly over the twelve:
Either tactic by S would be far better than a general melee—seven or eight of T OOA as opposed to none—but one tactic or the other should be selected.
Readers may be interested in the mathematically best average result that S could achieve. Maximum performance is achieved by firing at exactly ten targets, in which case ΔT = 10. This is the sort of optimization calculations that we operations analysts love, but it is impractical. As a practical matter, it is very important for S to see, first, that his chances of winning are zero, and, second, that if compelled by his orders to fight he must work out special tactics such as the two above in order to do any damage whatsoever. It is unimportant for him to obtain the mathematically optimum solution, because there are too many unknowables that will mess up the distribution of fire, damage effects, and any neutral shipping present serving as false targets. These and other uncertainties are assumed away in mean value computations—or any other analysis, for that matter.
To conclude this exhibit of how the salvo equations could be used in real battle planning with real data and facts about the combat environment, it would be good form and a wise warning to remember that the enemy also has tactical choices. Let us assume that T’s tactical commander recognizes that S should try to attack only part of his force by using the same equations. He wants to attenuate the effect of S’s tactical choices. He knows he will win handily if he can concentrate the salvoes of enough ships and that salvoes from all twenty-five at once is excessive and wasteful and will expose too many of his ships to enemy attack. He understands that he may win without a loss if he outscouts S and attacks first, but his appraisal is that he will only gain first detection some of the time. Also, in the time it will take for tracking, attack coordination, and missile flight, the enemy may detect him and launch missiles at him before his own missiles arrive. He also acknowledges the possibility that S will outscout him and T could be the one to suffer a surprise attack.
Therefore, the T response is to partition his fleet into separate elements and attack in waves of one element at a time. He wishes each wave to be strong enough to take out all seven corvettes in the enemy fleet. The average striking power of each of his ships is:
He uses the equation for τ salvo effectiveness against S to solve for the number of T required to make ΔS = 7:
The solution is T = 5 ships in a wave. In practice the commander would worry about which ships to put in each wave—for instance, whether the smaller fast-attack craft with Penguins, the larger ones with Harpoons, or a mixture of both should be put in a wave. He would already have doctrine for formation spacing, but he would have to make many other battle-specific tactical decisions.
How much better will T do in reducing his own losses in an exchange? If he sends a wave of five, then S (who now outnumbers T’s wave!) will have an excess of firepower:
Fifteen is threefold overkill, so all five ships in T’s first wave must expect to be put out of action and win many posthumous medals. Nevertheless, loss of at most five ships is better than the alternative, which is loss of seven or eight ships on the average. T has cut the cloth very fine, because five ships are just sufficient mathematically to destroy S with no margin for error. T should expect a few enemy corvettes to survive undamaged. On the other hand, unless the Small fleet is remarkably skillful, it will have expended all its missiles at T’s first wave and must confront twenty remaining, fully armed ships.
We have illustrated a way to do some of the tactical planning when a battle is imminent and its context is known in part. When aircraft are present for scouting or attack many things change, but the salvo equation format can still be used. Some battle outcomes will be determined by outscouting or outranging the enemy. The U.S. Navy attacks on Libyan warships in the Gulf of Sidra in March 1986 are examples in which the former could achieve effective attacks because of superior scouting and striking range, and because the Libyan defenses and staying power were completely overwhelmed. Superior training, deception, and C2 can also be decisive. The sea battles in October 1973 between Israeli and Syrian or Egyptian combatants illustrate this, as well as the unstable tactical circumstances of missile warfare. Though nominally outranged, the Israeli ships suffered no hits while achieving a very high hit performance against their Syrian or Egyptian foes.
To develop scouting, deception, weapon range, and the role of aircraft more thoroughly than in this chapter is possible, but takes more information and a more complicated analytical form than salvo equations. An approach to these range-dependent calculations contained in the 1986 edition will be repeated at the end of this chapter.
The U.S. Navy has devoted much thought and energy to tactical networks. The latest approach, Network Centric Warfare, is broader than command and control.* It is broader than information warfare. NCW is a comprehensive approach that specifies three laterally connected grids. The first is a sensor grid to correlate acquired information; the second is a C2 grid in which all units exchange operation plans, tactical tasks, orders, and changes to plans, tasks, and orders as events unfold; the third is a shooter grid, which assigns targets and coordinates fire. The grids are linked vertically so that a stream of actions flows from sensors through decision makers to shooters. Although I have never seen counteractions specified in the concept, it is implicit in Network Centric Warfare that antiscouting, C2 countermeasures, and counterforce activities are included which degrade enemy tactical performance and interfere with his own grids.
The salvo equations assume the existence of the three linked networks. With the equations it doesn’t matter whether A is linking two ships, twenty, or two hundred. Insofar as the equations are concerned the linkages may be rudimentary and largely achieved by sound doctrine as a primary means of coordination, or they may be highly integrated and automated, which is the intention and expectation of the American system. To a very great extent the equations represent a system that is performing as if it was networked laterally and vertically.
There is no separate term for command and control in the equations because C2 is embedded in the existing terms. For instance, aA represents the best each warship can do to achieve hits multiplied by the number of warships. There is no allowance for two ships shooting at the same target or other waste and inefficiency in the fog of battle. The same is true of a3A. The coordination of defensive fire and soft-kill measures is implicit. In effect, the equations represent a networked force. One cannot expect a network centric warfare bonus that is better than the equations’ results. There can only be a penalty when the network is deficient or fails. That is why the mathematical range of σ and δ is from zero (terrible networking) to one (ideal networking).
Networking allows widely separated shooters to deliver a pulse of striking power—the dispersed fleet’s salvo—concentrated in location and time. But there can be no mutual defense by widely separated ships and they can be subject to defeat one at a time, in detail as the expression goes. A primary tactical characteristic of surface warships is the ability to operate in mutual defense. If ships of a fleet can protect each other by protecting themselves, then massing for mutual defense is beneficial. A fleet’s carrier aircraft used as CAP is such an “area defense” capability. SAMs, or surface-to-air missiles, with an effective engagement range beyond perhaps twenty miles will protect several ships in a formation, especially if they can deal with crossing targets—ASCMs homing on a nearby ship.
We have seen that the number of ships is the most valuable attribute a fleet can have. We also saw that many small ships offer more tactical flexibility. The smallest unit of disaggregation is a single ship. The U.S. Navy is composed of large, highly capable ships, many of which have an area defense capability. It was for defense more than for offense that the American navy sacrificed numbers for quality.* An American battle fleet has had to defeat any surprise attack that the enemy might hurl, using sea room and a layered defense in depth, first with F-14s, then SAMs, and finally point defenses. At one time strong staying power was another important component, but only rarely now.
The principle of massing for defense says that when major formations operating apart are subject to defeat one at a time then they should be combined in one or more formations strong enough to defeat an attack. This is so whether or not a strike can be concentrated by networking when they are apart. Even when one expects deficiencies in coordinating two or more major formations so that the combined defenses are less than additive, the advantage of mutual defensive support is still evident.
There is nothing new or surprising in this. It is a reminder that the decision to mass or disperse depends not on offensive but on defensive considerations, and has since aircraft carrier battle tactics were worked out in World War II. When defenses will be strong in mutual support, then the fleet should be massed the way the U.S. carrier fleets were concentrated in 1944. If, however, defenses are weak, as they were against attack from the air in 1942, then a dispersed force is indicated, as well as the urgent need to outscout the enemy and attack effectively first. If counterforce is weak and the C2 network is capable of achieving offensive concentration of firepower over great distances, then tactic 2 in figure 11-1b (a broad-front attack) is desirable.
The tactician should also remember the new possibility that tactic 3 (a sequential attack) may be superior. In contemporary situations the possibility is more likely to arise in littoral waters where the danger of surprise and swift destruction is ever present. It was such circumstances—a radar scouting advantage and the potency of a torpedo salvo—that led to Burke’s tactical one-two punch in 1943 during the Solomons campaign.
To see the principle of massing for defense in quantitative terms, think of an American Aegis cruiser as a self-contained, one-ship fleet.* No other warship comes as close to completeness, having the ability to scout with radar, helicopters, and satellite information, strike with missiles, and control its battlespace against air, undersea, and surface attacks. The mission for our one-ship fleet will be the classical fleet role: to control its sea space by defeating any nearby enemy fleet. The principle of massing for mutual defense says if one warship is not enough then we must have a two- or three-ship fleet, not necessarily all Aegis cruisers.
In effect the one-ship fleet is Force A in figure 11-1, except that the three dots are compacted into one. The Aegis cruiser was built big and powerful in order to mass a strong defense in a cost-effective way. The U.S. Navy did not wish to invest in its track-while-scan radar and luxurious C2 facilities (they cost about half of the ship’s total) without giving the ship massive defensive firepower. In due course the Aegis cruiser’s combat potential was completed by giving it offensive firepower, too.
When we explore the logic of fewer, larger ships for defense, we must face the absence of combat data. I do not think this is reason for gloom. Gunnery analysis in preparation for World War I was very helpful. While not very accurate (as always in peacetime it was too optimistic) the analysis of peacetime performance was successful in identifying the improvements needed for gunfire effectiveness: range-finding, range-keeping (target position prediction), tight spacing, and optimal formations. The following will be helpful for understanding, but I don’t want to imply precision in the numbers that I am going to use in the salvo equations.
Our Aegis-like cruiser will carry 32 SAMs for defense against air, surface, or land-launched ASCMs. If doctrine specifies that two SAMs will be fired at each enemy ASCM, then its defensive power is a3 = 16. To use the equations without modification we will assume that point defenses back up the SAMs perfectly so that there are no leakers. In addition, there is enough sea room and warning so that the cruiser is fully alert, hence δ = 1.0. For offense it has 32 missiles, each with a hit probability of H = .75, so its offensive power is close to α = 24. Its staying power, a1, is uncertain but within a range of from two to four ASCM hits to put it out of action. We give the enemy ships the same characteristics as in the example used to illustrate figure 11-1, namely striking power β = 6, defensive power b3 = 1, and staying power b1 = 1. The ships could be missile-carrying fast-attack craft or maritime patrol aircraft similar to a P-3C carrying eight Harpoons, of which six would hit.
How big a fleet of these characteristics can our cruiser put out of action? Solving for δB/B = 1, we find that it will put twelve enemy ships (or aircraft) out of action.
On the other hand if the cruiser is caught by an enemy surprise attack, how big must the B fleet be to put A out of action? Solving for δA/A = 1, we find that B needs only three or four of his small but heavily armed combatants. Caught in an exchange of salvoes with not more than four of the enemy, A will be out of action with many offense weapons unspent and wasted. Our one-ship fleet is overweighted with striking power, under the measure of effectiveness for littoral warfare of maximum delivered ordnance over the combat life of the ship.
If the enemy fleet is B = 10, then one corrective action for A would be to mass four identical ships for mutual defense: add enough cruisers to defeat the enemy attack. This would be desirable, though four times as expensive, if the 128-missile offensive capacity will be useful for, say, theater missile defense or Tomahawk-like strikes against strategic targets ashore.
Another correction is to change A’s balance of firepower on board. If A carries about 16 instead of 32 offensive missiles, its striking power is reduced to α = 12 and it can put six of B out. Now A can carry 48 instead of 32 defensive missiles capable of defending against four attackers.
The third corrective possibility is to outscout and outrange the enemy unfailingly. By attacking first, with ideal distribution of fire and α = 24, each of A can deal with twelve of B. The expensiveness of this solution depends on the means of scouting and attacking selected. A convenient, available aircraft carrier is an inexpensive way. Purchasing a new carrier and its aircraft is an expensive way.
The principle abides: a fleet that cannot reliably attack first must mass for effective defense. If its defense cannot be made effective, then it must fight dispersed and win by outscouting the enemy so as to avoid all attacks.
Some of the problems of a large ship can be eased by building more staying power into it. This is best shown by including the possibility of leakers, which until now we have disregarded.
We have shown data on the leakage rate in the history of missile warfare at sea: one missile in three has gotten through the defenses on the average. But the average is not helpful because the tendency was for the defender to be very successful or very unsuccessful in stopping an attack. Leakage through an Aegis ship’s defenses is speculative and debatable because there is no combat data; we have only its test range performance. When the leakage rate is known then the consequences and the desirability of great staying power are easy to show. If only one missile in ten gets through the defenses (a 90% defensive effectiveness), then the cruiser must expect to be hit on the average by one missile while defending against ten. Thus only two of B, firing a total of 12 good ASCMs, would expect to hit A once. If the ship can continue fighting, perhaps at reduced effectiveness, after taking two, or three, or even four hits, then the enemy will have to expend far more missiles in his attack. When leakage is a real threat, as I believe it is, then a balanced warship design should have increased staying power.
A special concern for inshore warfare is a greater risk of catching a single ship napping because of the cluttered environment and the reduced battle space. I have yet to find a rationale for sending large, expensive, and highly capable warships into contested coastal waters unless they can take several hits and continue fighting without missing a beat after suffering a first attack by the enemy. It is better to fight fire with fire using expendable, missile-carrying aircraft or small surface craft. In fact, ever since the introduction of numerous torpedo boats, coastal submarines, and minefields early in this century, contested coastal waters have been taboo for capital ships and the nearly exclusive province of flotillas of small, swift, lethal fast-attack craft.
Despite this edition’s new emphasis on fighting on the littorals and the addition of new material to help understand missile warfare as it has been observed over the past thirty years, this recapitulation has been altered only in a few details. The reader should, however, appreciate that a substantial part of a coastal fleet may be land-based. Inshore operations might even be said to be missile combat in which naval vessels participate and the very epitome of joint warfare.
A warcraft with great offensive firepower and little means of defense is very vulnerable and creates a highly unstable tactical situation. It depends for effectiveness on a first strike—a stealthy attack or a better scouting-weapon range combination. A warcraft with such a mix of attributes is an anomaly. Why is such a “mistake” built? Ostensibly because it is cost-effective to put many good shots (aircraft or missiles) in each craft when the measure of effectiveness is simple firepower, α or β, which ignores the force-on-force nature of battle. A better measure of effectiveness is “deliverable firepower over its combat life,” which is a combination of offensive firepower and counterforce.
A proper analysis of deliverable firepower would still sometimes argue for massing offensive power in single platforms, simply because of the economies of scale and the low cost of adding missiles on the margin. Nevertheless, instability is a consequence of massing, and the above discussion suggests the need for both (1) technological measures (more defensive force, derived from such features as point defenses or chaff, as well as greater hull survivability), and (2) tactical measures (such as plans to attack either sequentially or from many directions to confound the enemy’s scouting and fire control). These measures would give a naval force the temporizing ability to permit its offense to act.
The first question to answer regarding tactical configuration is how much striking power would be sufficient to eliminate the enemy threat at one blow. If your firepower is concentrated from one or more platforms at one or more locations to meet this standard of offensive sufficiency, there is no purpose in adding more for effective attack.
The second question concerns the massing of forces, and that is answered by an analysis of defensive capabilities. Together, concentration for the offense and the possibility of massing for the defense determine the tactical disposition. However, these calculations are not made simply by a correlation of weight and range of firepower. Networking determines whether dispersed firepower can be concentrated offensively. Scouting networks (one’s own and the enemy’s, on board and off board), range and search plans, and, especially in littoral waters, the clutter of false targets and electronic emissions, affect both offensive and defensive effectiveness. Antiscouting potential such as stealthiness also affects the final correlation.
One of the practical problems is that the correlation of force cannot be finely honed. As we have seen, there is a propensity in peacetime to overestimate one’s own striking power. Some extra firepower (overkill) should be added when planning offensive and defensive combinations.
A tactical reserve must in fact be a safe reserve. Withholding part of one’s missile capacity for a second strike presumes the survival of the ships with that capacity until they are needed. On the other hand, to be completely safe a reserve may have to be located so far to the rear that it cannot influence the battle, in which case it is not a tactical reserve at all. Attacking in successive waves is not withholding a reserve but a mode of offense.
A major consequence of massing for defense is the certainty that the enemy will be aware of the fleet and its general location. Then, electronic-warfare tactics should be designed not to mask the presence of the fleet, which is impossible, but to complicate the enemy’s efforts to track and target the key units carrying out the fleet’s mission—in a word, its striking power. In particular, no great sacrifice of fleet defensive firepower should be made to avoid detection and tracking. Active jamming and radiating decoys are the principal tools with which to inhibit targeting during this kind of overt operation. If the estimate is that the fleet cannot be safeguarded by its active defense long enough for it to attack effectively, then the whole operation should be reevaluated. What could be worse than a plan that calls for the massing of defense and then destroys the effectiveness of the defense by an overly strict search and fire-control radiation policy? Powerful defensive warships such as Aegis cruisers are an electronic liability unless the force is powerful enough to attack overtly.
In the future, battles between moving forces will be fought at closer ranges than we expect because of scouting inadequacies and antiscouting effectiveness. Other battles will be fought with Arleigh Burke’s metaphoric cutlasses, for missile magazines sometimes will have been emptied in panicky attacks.
Coastal combat is war at short range. Geography of land and ocean floor modify the general truth that there are no flanks to attack or high ground to defend at sea. The naval forces based ashore create unique tactical combinations of sensors, missiles, and other weapons, all networked by doctrine, training, and communications. Additional possibilities for covertness and surprise out of the clutter add to the hazards. Defense is harder, and all ships and aircraft are proportionately more at risk.
Is there a way for a tactical commander and his staff to think through the exceedingly messy tactical problems of modern littoral combat? I offer the structure in the following section as a guide. It emphasizes scouting, C2, and weapon range in a two-sided battle for ocean domination when a land power has the ability not merely to defend his immediate coastline but to reach far out over the ocean.
A Range-Dependent Model of Modern Naval Combat
Let us first establish the purpose of the model: to help a tactician relate the scouting and weapon effectiveness of his force to that of the enemy so that the net deliverable striking power of the two sides may be compared. The model indicates the circumstances that govern which side will be able to attack effectively first.
Models in the text that compared firepower effects alone no longer suffice. Sensor-search effectiveness must be regarded as equally important. Emission control (EmCon) policies, which govern the extent of sensor radiation, are deeply involved. So are the distances between friendly and enemy forces.
These additions complicate the analysis but they are unavoidable, for effective scouting and sensor employment decisions are of paramount tactical importance. Still, the model is an endeavor to display only the most significant ingredients of modern naval combat, and in the simplest way possible.
Model Description
1. Two forces, Blue and Red, each have respective striking powers that are described, for all ranges in any direction, as good shots per strike, and a striking potential that includes good shots in magazines. We will use the same definition of good shots but refine it, saying that the number of good shots is range-dependent. Red and Blue forces may be massed, or divided and distributed in units as small as individual ships.
2. Each force has defensive power in its soft- and hard-kill defenses (interceptors, AAW missiles, chaff, etc.). Taken together, the defenses will be thought of simply as a filter that subtracts incoming weapons, leaving a net number of good shots that hit.
3. Neither side can deliver weapons or be fully ready to defend against the enemy’s weapons without scouting information provided by reconnaissance, surveillance, ECM intercept, or other information-gathering systems. The weight of striking power, a function of range, and the defensive power filter will both depend on the amount of scouting information.
4. Scouting information to Red and Blue may come from active search or from passive intercept of the enemy’s signals. Passive information is generally received at a longer range than active search information and has different tactical content.
5. The content of scouting information will be treated in three categories:
a) Detection: knowledge of enemy presence, enough to alert defenses but not to attack.
b) Tracking: incomplete knowledge of the enemy’s location and disposition, sufficient to launch an attack, but at a reduced level of offensive weapon delivery effectiveness.
c) Targeting: knowledge of enemy force composition in such detail that individual units may be targeted and the best possible number of good shots can be delivered as efficiently as possible for the range in question.
6. Scouting performance, in terms of bearing and range of detection, localization, and targeting, is a function of the electronic emission control of the active side. Such EmCon may be:
EmCon A: restricted (minimum or no) search
EmCon B: curtailed (some) search
EmCon C: unrestricted (maximum) search
For some active scouting systems, performance is given in sweep rate, that is, in area swept per unit time. For other systems, performance is given as a probability or frequency of detection per unit time in a searched region. For the composite search, the probability density throughout the searched region is dependent on time and governed by the search pattern. When either the tracking or the targeting of a detected force is also required to attack, either additional time or scouting effort may be needed. In all cases, the information (on the existence of an enemy force; on its location, course, and speed; or on the details of its disposition) must be reported, so the relevant scouting time includes the time required to place the information before the tactical commander. Scouting effort is neither easy to conceptualize nor easy to manage, but whatever way it is portrayed, its effectiveness will boil down to the amount of area swept, the accuracy of the results, and the time it takes to report.*
7. Passive scouting performance, also given in terms of detection range, localization, and targeting, is a function of enemy EmCon policy choices. EmCon B resembles a tactical plan to deny the enemy good targeting information against primary targets (notably aircraft carriers or flagships) through passive scouting.
8. Net delivered firepower as a function of range (effective striking power minus defensive power) reduces the defender’s offensive and defensive combat capability after the attack is delivered. In effect, the defender’s prior fighting power (offensive and defensive firepower and staying power) and his active scouting capacity will be reduced according to the number of hits suffered in the attack.
9. Each Blue or Red unit that is mobile may move, carrying along its firepower potential.
10. On-board sensors move, too. Other sensors may be in motion (e.g., satellites) or fixed (e.g., land-based radar). Each force’s scouting capacity may be thought of as an ability to cover an amount of area. Coverage is the detection, tracking, or targeting of an enemy in successively smaller areas, which are, respectively, the region of interest, of influence, and of control.† The model stresses the simultaneity of scouting decisions on both sides and the tradeoff between radiating sensors, which give both sides information, and those that do not radiate, which keep information from both. The model is concerned in the most fundamental way with scouting resources and their deployment. The battle outcome rests on information collected and denied before the first weapons are fired.
11. Once enough scouting information is thought to be in hand, an attack is ordered. Mounting and delivering it takes time, which is measured in hours. An enemy attack may arrive before the order is executed, rendering it null, or the enemy’s attack may arrive too late, in which case both sides will suffer.
Fig. 11-2. Scenario of a Modern Naval Battle
12. Surviving forces may reattack after accounting for:
a) Damage from hits
b) Aircraft lost in an attack
c) Missiles expended
Envision a naval force (Blue) attempting to close and attack a land-based complex of scouting and firepower (Red), as depicted in figure 11-2. Red also has two missile submarines at sea whose mission it is to attack Blue forces before they are within effective range of Red’s base complex. To concentrate attention on the scouting duel and simplify the discussion, we will assume Blue’s force is strong defensively and so appropriately massed in one unit. Although some off-board strategic scouting has established the enemy order of battle and disposition ashore, Blue must use on-board sensors for battle scouting. Red’s scouting resources will be introduced later.
In this example an American carrier battle force conducts an attack with missiles and aircraft against an enemy with land-based aircraft and missiles. The carrier force’s mission is to attack as part of a campaign for sea control—that is, to suppress or eliminate a threat to American maritime activities. Red’s mission is to destroy Blue so that it can continue air and submarine attacks on the shipping of Blue’s allies. These forces and missions are consistent with one another in the context of conventional warfare. If nuclear weapons were involved, the forces, missions, and tactical plans would be very different.
Blue starts beyond weapon range, at 1,800 nautical miles from Red’s airfield/missile-base complex. Red’s two missile submarines are required by their defensive mission to stay at least 500 or 600 miles from Red’s base, because Blue’s striking power is very strong inside of 500 miles.
Blue’s striking power (BB) against land targets, in good shots (called shots hereafter) per strike, is represented in figure 11-3a. In this instance, the fifty shots that reach 1,000 miles are missiles. They may be fired once and are irreplaceable. The remainder of the Blue strike profile represents escorted attack aircraft that can strike repeatedly unless lost during the action. The full 150 shots by aircraft may be delivered out to 300 miles; beyond that, carrying capacity (and fighter escort strength) diminishes linearly to zero at 600 miles.
Red’s land-based striking power of missile-armed aircraft is represented in figure 11-3b. Red can deliver 150 shots at short range, and his striking power decreases to zero at 1,500 miles. Red outranges Blue, but as we will see, he is not strong enough to attack effectively at his extreme range. Red may also strike again with any aircraft not lost in an attack.
Blue believes that when his defenses are alerted, his defensive firepower can eliminate forty of Red’s shots. Therefore when he is outside of 1,100 miles he can defeat any Red attack, provided his defenses are given full tactical warning. Inside 1,100 miles some Red attackers will always penetrate Blue’s defense and make hits. Blue estimates that Red’s defenses, when fully alert, are able to take out the first twenty shots of his attack. Thus anytime Blue succeeds in launching his missiles inside of 1,000 miles, he is capable of doing some damage to Red. But—and this is key—a missile attack alone is not adequate, so Blue must close the range to, say, 500 miles and use his attack aircraft for a combined weight of attack, which at that range is one hundred shots, or eighty hits after Red’s defense is accounted for. After that, Blue can reduce the submarine base and support facilities without significantly risking his fleet to Red’s air base. For a conclusive attack, then, Blue may launch a coordinated missile and air attack from 500 miles, provided his estimates are correct and he has sustained no loss of striking power in the meantime, for he has no extra margin at that range.
What of Blue’s ability to survive a Red attack? He estimates that his force can survive one hundred hits from a Red air and missile attack. Thus at the range at which he can deliver a decisive attack he himself is subject to a crippling attack: at 500 miles Red can deliver one hundred shots, of which Blue’s defenses can handle at most only forty. His force will suffer sixty hits and be reduced to 40 percent effectiveness. If Blue is attacked first by Red with Red’s full strength at the critical range of 500 miles, his remaining striking power will be reduced to only forty shots, of which Red may be expected to defeat half. Twenty hits by Blue will not do Red enough harm to gain air supremacy for Blue, nor will it whittle down Red’s next attack very much. Here is a summary of Blue’s estimates:
But a battle is dynamic competition, and we have not established Blue’s maneuver potential. A reasonable sprint speed for his force is twenty-five knots. After he is attacked with Red’s full strength at 500 miles, he may have six hours’ grace before Red can mount another concentrated attack, in which case he may be able to close the range to 350 miles with his survivors and conduct a strike. At that short range his attack is 60 percent more powerful than at 500 miles; formally, his surviving strike capacity at that range is seventy shots. After Red defenses take out twenty of those, the fifty hits achieved on Red will eliminate five-eighths—more than 60 percent—of Red’s follow-up attack potential, giving Blue some modest hope of handling Red’s now-reduced strike capacity. Not very promising? Consider the alternative, an attempt to withdraw. Blue flees as he is able, and Red reattacks at 650 miles at full strength. Blue faces an attack worth eighty-five shots. With only 40 percent of his defenses remaining, Blue’s defenses take out only sixteen shots, and he is defeated by sixty-nine hits against a residual staying power of only forty. Blue’s situation is impossible if he tries to escape a reattack. Somewhere around 750 miles, Blue crossed the Rubicon.
What do Blue planners conclude? Nothing, until they have assessed the scouting capabilities of both sides. After all, much of Blue’s tactical strength lies in his ability to move and in Red’s lack of maneuverability. We will also see that Blue has a better way to combine maneuver and firepower—by winning the scouting duel—if he can offset Red’s advantage in weapon reach.
Blue’s EmCon plan must exploit the fact that Red’s position, except for his two submarines, is fixed. Since Blue is a mobile threat, Red must search for him, and Blue’s tactics involve the exploitation of Red’s necessarily active search. If Red has enough satellite surveillance (or surveillance from any other scouting system that can covertly track and report Blue) to launch an effective large-scale land attack first, Blue will have to mass additional defensive firepower* (his offensive punch we know by now to be adequate) and radiate in EmCon B sufficiently for his full defenses to play. Blue’s only alternative, barring a reckless hope that Red is less strong or more inept than intelligence estimates, is to abandon his plan to mass and try to attack in dispersed units—not a promising prospect, given the circumstances.
If, however, Blue has the ability to evade Red’s long-range surveillance, he will be able to start his run in without having been located. In this case, let us assume that Red has two active scouting threats.† The first is an over-the-horizon (OTH) radar, a surveillance system that blankets the ocean, giving a high probability of detection to a range of 800 miles. Blue must assume that the radar is active and that at an 800-mile range he will be detected, tracked at once, continually targeted, and subject to land-based or submarine attack within an hour or two. The second scouting system is a set of long-range “Grizzly” reconnaissance aircraft. The Grizzly reconnaissance effort can reach as far as 2,000 miles, but the longer the range, the narrower or thinner the search.
As Blue starts to close the range he will stay electronically silent, relying on his passive detection of the Grizzly’s radar to give an attack warning in time so that he can shift to EmCon B, which allows his defenses to work at full effectiveness while still denying Red’s scouting its full targeting potential. What will the probability of detection by the Grizzlies be? Both sides should perform extensive calculations, realizing that the range and breadth of the search are important variables under Red’s control. Blue estimates that Red intends to attack inside of 1,000 miles (when a Red attack will achieve some hits) and beyond 600 (at which range Blue’s threat to Red begins to mount precipitously). A Red attack at more than 1,000 miles may actually appeal to Blue, and one plan (which we will not pursue further) would be for Blue to stay at long range in hopes of inducing Red to attack where Blue has an advantage. Running in silently and swiftly, Blue will try to pick an approach bearing that reduces the chances of detection, and he may also use radiating deception units to divert the Grizzly search. Now, a reasonable estimate is that the Grizzlies will search out to a maximum range of 1,500 miles. It will take Blue twenty-four hours at twenty-five knots to close from 1,500 to 900 miles, and another sixteen hours to close to 600. Even in this simple example, the scouting situation is complicated enough to call for the diagram in figure 11-4.
By the time Blue is first able to attack—at 1,000 miles—he has a 50 percent chance of being undetected. At 900 miles the chances of his remaining so are less than 40 percent. At 800 miles detection (by OTH radar) is certain. Blue has, however, certain advantages. If he is detected by a Grizzly outside of 1,000 miles, he will know it and can prepare to defend effectively against Red’s attack, or if he does not have faith in his defensive power, he can safely cancel or defer his attack. If he is detected inside of 1,000 miles, he will also know when, and will have about two to four hours to launch his own attack before the arrival of the Red attack. The resulting exchange of attacks will do heavy damage to both Red and Blue, the details of which it is not uninstructive for the interested reader to work out for himself.
Fig. 11-4. Diagram of Red’s Composite Scouting Effectiveness
There is another possibility. To see it, refer to figures 11-5a and 11-5b. Figure 11-5a depicts Blue’s remaining striking power after a maximum Red attack from three distances, 500, 700, or 1,000 miles and farther. Obviously, Blue’s residual striking power is much reduced after Red mounts an attack from the shorter ranges. The region above the crosshatching indicates the number of hits Blue could hope to achieve after Red defenses have defeated the first twenty shots. Figure 11-5b is a similar curve for Red. It shows Red’s remaining striking power after a successful Blue attack, from anywhere between 600 and 1,000 miles. This figure indicates that although Red’s hitting capacity is not destroyed by the Blue long-range attack, Red will be depleted enough that the Blue defenses can handle a Red counterattack adequately to about a 400-mile range, as the next few paragraphs explain.
Fig. 11-5b. Remaining Red Striking Power after a Blue Attack from Anywhere between 600 and 1,000 NM
Thus, although a Blue attack from a range greater than 500 miles does not destroy Red’s fighting power, an attack from anywhere inside of 1,000 miles is effective: it reduces Red’s offense to near impotence. Therein lies the clue to Blue’s best tactics for the combination of Red and Blue weapon and scouting capacities given in the example.
Blue should try to close to 1,000 miles undetected. As soon as he is within range, he should launch all his missiles. They will be an effective first attack. In fact, if he remains undetected during the two-hour transit by the missiles (it is assumed they are cruise missiles, with what would have to be, for conventional weapons, very precise terminal homing), Red will be taken by surprise. It is reasonable, then, to expect that nearly all of Blue’s fifty missiles will be hits. But even if Red is alerted and the effective number of Blue hits is only thirty, three-eighths of Red’s striking capacity is still knocked out. Had we not foreseen the effect of Blue’s defensive firepower, the remaining five-eighths of Red’s striking capacity would have appeared to be a serious threat to Blue.
Next Blue must close the range to about 400 or 450 miles. The reason is that, his missiles all being expended, he must get within his aircrafts’ range. At that range he can launch a final, conclusive attack. During Blue’s run in, Red will have counterattacked (he had twenty-four hours to do so). But Blue’s defensive firepower is at full strength because of the tactical choice to mass his force, and because he will now be radiating all his systems overtly in EmCon C. Even if Red times his attack well and strikes at 500 miles, his reduced striking power will be only about sixty shots, of which Blue’s defense will eliminate forty. Blue, with a survival capacity of one hundred Red hits, will be at 80 percent strength for his air strike and capable of completely dominating Red as the end game to this example is played out.
So far little has been said about the two Red missile submarines. Submarines are usually thought of in their strike role. In this scenario Red places them at 500 to 600 miles, far enough out to attack and chip away at Blue before Blue’s full striking power can be effective. The closer in they are positioned, the greater the possibility they will be able to attack. Now, we have never specified their striking power. If either one is able to target a carrier or Aegis AAW ship, its missiles might do enough damage to decisively undermine Blue’s fighting power. Even a partially successful missile attack aimed against the force without complete targeting information might be enough to tip the balance in later engagements, when outcomes are poised on a knife’s edge. However, Red’s submarine tactics and their effect on the battle depend on submarine attacks made before Blue’s main air attacks, a situation not unlike that in which Blue’s best tactical plan is to launch his own early missile attack on Red’s base.
Blue’s need to make a twenty-five-knot approach enhances the Red SSGN’s effectiveness. At high speeds ASW is difficult and surface-ship formations themselves are vulnerable to long-range (50–100 miles) sonar detections and submarine missile attacks. But a Blue decision to strike with missiles at 1,000 miles preempts Red’s submarine tactics. The SSGNs cannot attack before Blue’s missiles have struck, and after that they probably cannot cripple Blue enough to redress Red’s disadvantage.
There is, however, another tactical employment for Red’s two submarines namely, as covert scouts. Blue’s plan hinges on being able to approach in EmCon A (minimum radiation) and counterdetect the active radar search of Red Grizzlies in ample time to shift to EmCon B, permitting the use of fully effective defensive firepower. If Red puts his two submarines out to 1,100 or 1,200 miles as pickets, then Blue has to face a possibility that he will be detected and tracked passively, and that a long-range surprise attack might descend on him before his defenses are up. The numbers are intolerable to Blue. At 1,100 miles a Red air strike can deliver forty shots. Blue has counted on taking out the first forty shots with his defenses; it is for that very reason that he has massed his force. If he sustains forty hits because he is surprised, he has lost too much of his force to continue the battle.
The possibility of Blue’s being tracked and targeted without his knowing it is a serious matter when Blue depends on Red’s overt search to alert his defenses. If he must radiate for defensive reasons he cannot conceal his location, and yet his tactical plan to mass is based on a strong defense. How serious is the threat of two submarine pickets detecting a battle fleet running in at twenty-five knots? At 1,200 miles, the probability of one or the other submarine detecting is perhaps one in four or five. In addition, the submarines must have the means to report a contact undetected. All in all, the odds of a Red covert scouting success are not high, but still Blue cannot escape the possibility of that success, which would lead to a devastating Red attack.
The biggest problem for Blue would arise if Red’s major striking power was afloat and mobile. Blue’s battle plan depends on knowing that Red can neither move toward him, which would rapidly make Red’s threat intolerably stronger, nor away, which would render Blue’s plan to launch missiles at maximum range ineffective. In the case of a maneuvering Red, Blue must establish his own active scouting plan, which changes everything. All elements now come into full play. Both fleets maneuver on a battlefield of grand dimensions. Two tactical foes struggle to devise scouting plans to find an enemy in motion and frustrate the enemy’s plan. The fleets’ striking powers are two coiled springs ready to snap into action when, for better or worse, either commander decides he has enough information and makes his fateful attempt to attack effectively first.
The Merits of the Example: A Summary
Now we must put the example in perspective. First, assume for a moment that the data were in fact not imaginary but as real and accurate as analytical methods can make them and as complete as circumstances permit, and that, in addition, all important variations or tactical options open to either side were explored. In other words, assume that what we have is the genuine, complete tactical analysis that feeds into a real battle plan. With all that given, the first enjoinder to every commander and his staff is nevertheless to ask where the uncertainties lie and what the margins for error are. For example, they should worry about Bernotti’s grim observation concerning the effective range of torpedoes. What if Blue’s missiles, fired at key targets on the ground at their maximum range of 1,000 miles, do not prepare the way for the air attack but merely alert the enemy? Until the strike with missiles is carried out, we are certain of nothing concerning their accuracy and effectiveness. A model of battle, especially a realistic-looking computer simulation, can beguile users into believing that it is more than any model can ever be. No one who knows naval operations is likely to make that mistake with the model I have used. But the danger is real that a complicated U.S. Navy decision aid, or any final, issued operation order, will be mistaken for a prediction. If the plan is sound it will work, but it may contain so many distortions as to be almost unrecognizable after the battle. Remember Nelson’s simple-looking, tightly drawn battle plans for the Nile and Trafalgar and the wild, patternless appearance of the actual executions. Combat analysis does not aim to predict the future any more than a battle plan aims to represent the reality of the battle. Their objective is to help plan and win a victory. Analysis and plan are not sufficient, but they are necessary.
Our example does not portray real capabilities. It is intended to lay out, realistically, the special advantages warship mobility and maneuverability bestow on naval forces. These are precious assets when used shrewdly against an immobile enemy. It is obvious that if Red had been mobile, Blue’s tactics, and especially his EmCon plans, would have disintegrated. If Red had had a force at sea larger than two submarines, so that Blue would have had to operate more sensors, the latter’s whole plan of attack might have collapsed. The example also shows the real advantage of defensive massing. It does not show—though not much thought is needed to see—that against the scouting resources at Red’s disposal Blue would have little to gain by dispersing his forces and much to lose. Successful scouting on Red’s part would result in loss of concentrated attack for Blue and his vulnerability to sequential Red attack in detail.
A noteworthy shortcoming of the model is the way it distributes Blue’s striking power and defensive force homogeneously among the unspecified number of ships in his fleet. Modern American firepower tends to be clumped together, striking power in a few aircraft carriers, defensive firepower in AAW missile cruisers and in the fighter aircraft aboard carriers. Such power is not reduced as gracefully as Blue’s in the model. With two carriers in a battle force, a model result showing a 50 percent residual aircraft striking capacity may conceal the fact that there is a 25 percent probability that the force has no air striking capability (both carriers out of action) and a 25 percent probability that the force still has most of it (both carriers operational).
“A ship’s a fool to fight a fort” runs the fifth cornerstone of tactics. The example affirms why it is an abiding truth. The relative survivability of Red’s land-based force and Blue’s sea-based force, and the likelihood of their being reconstituted, is a difficult but vital assessment. Since the land/sea equation comes up repeatedly in American naval planning, even planning oriented toward sea control and protection of American maritime interests, survivability relationships must be handled with the expertise that comes from hard study.
By far the most important purpose of this example is to illustrate the processes—the dynamics—of modern naval combat. Even the most elemental analysis cannot avoid the messy scouting process. In the historical chapters we were comfortable describing the essence of naval combat with simple force-on-force attrition models. They helped demonstrate the structure of tactics and the correlations of force. They showed, especially, the decisiveness of a relatively small force advantage. By the time we came to World War II, however, long-range weapons were complicating our simple focus on attrition. Scouting had to be embedded in the attrition model. Offensive striking power looked more like a pulse than a continuing flow of destructive force. Staying power was more than ship survivability, and active defenses became important. So much for simplicity.
This, in summary, is the way to think of modern battle:
—Two sides have offensive weapons, the potential of which is a function of range.
—Two sides have defensive potential.
—Each side has scouting systems, which must at least detect and often track and target the enemy for an effective attack.
—Each side’s scouting activities may give away information that the other side will exploit to attack the enemy and defend himself.
—Each side has the potential to slow the enemy’s scouting process by using cover and deception, inducing him not to use his sensors, or by taking other antiscouting steps, including attacks against off-board sensors.
—Finally, each side may interfere with the enemy’s C2 by either direct attack on the flagship or confounding his communications.
Ultimately the opposing C2 processes govern all. Each commander’s aim is to concentrate his firepower to achieve mission success. Concentration means the effective compression of the attack in time as well as its localization in space. Concentration is a focused pulse of destruction unleashed at the vital place.
As important as concentration is the timing of the attack. Throughout history, the genius of winning sea battles has not so much been knowing what to do as when to do it. This is still true. The crux of naval command is knowing when to commit the available attack potential.
Concerning weapon fire, modern naval battles will be fast, destructive, and decisive. Most often the outcome will be decided before the first shot is fired.
It is wrong for the tactician merely to maintain an offensive frame of mind, thinking of nothing more than getting in the first attack. Naval forces must execute the first effective attack—the one after which the enemy can neither recover nor counterpunch successfully.
Because modern battle fleets comprise relatively few units, the commander has the potential (not always the ability) to maintain tight control of his forces and, more so than the ground-force commander, to unleash the coordinated attack from widely dispersed positions. His tools for translating potential into ability are doctrine, training, a stable team, a compact system of signals, and a few commands signaled at the right time during the operation.
Each commander, faced with decisions based almost always on incomplete information, must decide how he can attack effectively before the enemy does. If one side, by all odds, is subject to effective enemy first attack, there is something wrong with its strategy, tactics, or weapons. You don’t send a pikeman against an archer in an open field at noonday. But it is wrong to think of weapon range apart from scouting capacity; the two are wedded. Send your pikeman at midnight under a new moon. Any sound tactical plan must view the gathering of information on the enemy and the protection of one’s own information as integral to the battle.
If the enemy’s scouting and weapon ranges are both superior, then one’s fighting strength, especially defensive firepower, must be vastly superior.
A naval commander may have to commit weapons in advance of a concentrated attack to open up the way for it. He also needs some short-range weapons for follow-up. A battle whose outcome is decided is not over. The mop-up—it may be conducted by either side—will be a scene of great confusion at shorter ranges.
* Robison and Robison, p. 896.
* Besides the cost premium of wider distribution, there is the issue of control: more submarines create more control problems and hazards.
* See Hughes (1995). The article includes 38 references for further study.
† The equations could be used to model the results of the air strikes in the Battle of the Philippine Sea. When the units are in aircraft carriers, and a carrier’s salvo is its air wing, the values for α, β, a1, and b1 all equal one and a3 and b3 are ½ and 
for the United States and Japan respectively.
* Many imagine nuclear war to be a matter of the pretargeting of fixed sites and the early release of weapons in a general exchange. This is a flawed image on many counts, and in any case our intention is to keep the discussion more general.
* Schulte.
† The half is a near miss by an Egyptian Styx missile that sank the Israeli Orit in 1970.
* It is reasonable to ask for the source of the drop in hit probability when a defendable warship was the target. One certain reason is that defenseless targets were larger and easier to hit than the warships. A second, conjectural reason is that the attacker was free to take his time and attack the defenseless merchant vessels more boldly.
* The term was coined by Vice Admiral Arthur Cebrowski. The description of it is my interpretation of his still-evolving concept.
* Another reason is because of economies of scale. A large ship with three times the displacement of a small one will have three or more times the payload and probably cost only twice as much. Sometimes the ship must be big to carry and operate its payload; modern carrier aircraft illustrate. A large ship is also more comfortable for long cruises in many kinds of weather.
* I am on record that the smallest tactical unit of warships should be a pair of mutually reinforcing types, but that need not detract from this thought-experiment.
* For an introduction—unfortunately not simple—to scouting methods, see Koopman.
† A more accurate model in some respects might define scouting capacity as coverage over a single amount of area, but with successively longer periods of time to detect, track, or target within it. The reader may judge for himself which approach is more appealing after studying the example that follows.
* The fraction of scouting and firepower destroyed by enemy attack is the number of hits received divided by the staying power of the force.
* How much additional defensive firepower? Within the context of this paragraph, doubling his defensive firepower to destroy eighty hits per attack, perhaps less, would be adequate.
† A third, picket submarines, is not considered now, on the assumption that Red wishes to keep his two SSGNs closer in for missile attack. The possibility of submarine reconnaissance by Red can lead down many paths, one of which we will explore in due course.
