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Economics is almost always a factor in warfare; in the case of advanced air power it is an imperative. 100 million-dollar baby: An RAAF F-35A In the one hundred years since air power was first applied systematically, only a small number of countries have been able to construct balanced, high-quality air forces. Not the least of the reasons is that it is a very expensive business. It is no coincidence that advanced air power has been the province of first world nations such as the US, the UK, Germany, France, Australia, Japan, and so on, or of large command economies such as the USSR and China. Nor is it a coincidence that when third world nations or entities have managed to apply air power successfully their chosen models have been cheap, asymmetric, and specific (as opposed to balanced). During the French and American wars in Vietnam, for example, Viet Minh and Viet Cong forces regularly gained localized control of the air through the astute use of heavy machine guns and AAA, or by ambushing landing strips and helipads, or by attacking air bases. And on September 11, 2001, a handful of al-Qaeda operatives were able to assert control of the air overhead continental US through subterfuge and make one of the most stunning air strikes in history, having been trained to fly airliners to minimal standards and at minimal cost in simulators. But that “minimalist”, asymmetric approach is not broadly useful. The al-Qaeda model, for example, is unsustainable; and the Vietnam model was purpose-designed to counter an invading force that was not supported by the majority of the occupied nation. Both would have been useless in different, more general settings, such as World War II, Korea, and the Arab-Israeli wars. Taking the latter conflicts as an example, the development of the Israeli Air Force provides an instructive template against which to consider the economics of advanced air power. Israel was established as an independent nation in the former British mandate of Palestine in 1948, and by 1980 it had become a first world country. Unlike its Arab enemies (primarily Egypt, Syria, Jordan, Iraq, and the Palestine Liberation Organisation), Israel was a successful democracy with a strong economy, including impressive research and development and industrial sectors, and an extensive, high-quality education system. GDP/capita was $6095, compared to $545 in Egypt and $1695 in Syria; while the respective literacy rates were 92 per cent, 44 per cent, and 56 per cent. But having been in a continual state of war since its inception, Israel faced intense budgetary challenges. The Israeli Air Force evolved into a world-class organisation between 1960 and the early-1980s. Precisely how much of Israel’s GDP was spent on defence during that period is difficult to establish. Estimates can vary wildly depending on the parameters used; furthermore, defence spending is subject to more secrecy than most other government outlays. Thus, numbers cited for Israel can range from around five per cent of GDP to twenty per cent. But even though that is a big discrepancy, in the context of this discussion it does not matter. Regardless of which end of the spectrum is applied, both sums are immense, and both imply an unsustainable military posture in general and air power model in particular – unless there is external economic help. In Israel’s case, most of that help came from the US. Between 1973 and 1982, for example, the US gave Israel $6.05 billion in military grants and $7.88 billion in loans. Over the same period Israel’s average GNP was $13.78 billion, meaning that, in effect, the US contributed an additional 12 per cent to Israel’s annual national income, all of which was spent on defence. The significance of that amount can be placed in perspective when compared to a selection of defence spending as a percentage of GNP from other first world countries for the same period, as follows: France 2.2, UK 2.2, Australia 1.8, Germany 1.2, and Canada 1.0. In short, notwithstanding the exceptional quality of the IAF’s people, thinking and technology, without external economic aid it could not have achieved its level of excellence without placing extreme stress on other sectors of the Israeli economy. Plainly the same logic applies to Israel’s enemies, who in the same period received massive amounts of aid from the USSR. The general point being made here is not about Israel, or Egypt, or Syria, or any other particular country, it is about the cost of advanced air power, and it applies to almost everyone, including Australia. The RAAF is one of the world’s very best air forces, and Australia pays a fair price for everything it gets from the US. Nevertheless, ultimately, we are entirely reliant on the US’s peerless technology, research and development, logistics support, and, it has to be said, wealth. That’s not a criticism or a judgment, it’s a simple statement of fact. Economics is almost always a factor in warfare; in the case of advanced air power it is an imperative. This post draws on Alan Stephens, “Modeling Airpower: The Arab-Israeli Wars of the 20th Century”, in John Andreas Olsen (ed.), Airpower Applied: US, NATO and Israel (Washington: Naval Institute Press, forthcoming, May 2017). Dr Alan Stephens is a Fellow of the Sir Richard Williams Foundation #PLO #AirPower #technology #Israel #Australia #VietCong #economics #alQaeda

This week marks the 74th anniversary of the Battle of the Bismarck Sea, arguably the most significant action fought by Australians during World War II Between December 1941 and April 1942, Imperial Japanese forces shocked Australians with their victories over the United States at Pearl Harbor and in the Philippines; and over the British Commonwealth in Malaya, Singapore, the Dutch East Indies and Rabaul. When enemy forces occupied northern New Guinea, an invasion of Australia, with its unthinkable consequences, seemed possible. However, supported by their American and British allies, Australia’s service-men and -women regrouped and fought back. From mid-1942 onwards, Australian victories with American support at Milne Bay and Kokoda, and the triumph of American naval air power at Coral Sea and Midway, weakened Japan’s hold on New Guinea. Further allied successes on New Guinea’s northeast coast at Buna, Gona and Sanananda between November 1942 and January 1943 left the Japanese position substantially weakened. Then, intercepted radio messages revealed that an enemy convoy would sail from Rabaul with reinforcements for the vital Japanese garrison at Lae on the northeast coast of New Guinea in late-February. This was likely to be Japan’s last throw of the dice in New Guinea. If the convoy were stopped, then so too would be the likelihood of an invasion of Australia Allied Air Forces under the command of the American General George Kenney immediately began preparing for an all-out assault against the convoy. A critical factor was the brilliant plan largely conceived by the RAAF’s Group Captain William “Bull” Garing. Garing had already fought in Europe for two years with the RAAF’s No. 10 Squadron, and his experience of maritime warfare was to prove decisive. It was Garing who convinced General Kenney of the need for a massive, coordinated attack. Garing envisaged large numbers of aircraft striking the convoy from different directions and altitudes, with precise timing. Initially, the allies would rely on reconnaissance aircraft to detect the convoy, which would then be attacked by long-range USAAF bombers. Once the convoy was within range of the allies’ potent anti-shipping aircraft – RAAF Beaufighters, Bostons and Beauforts, and American Mitchells and Bostons – a coordinated attack would be mounted from medium, low, and very low altitudes. During the waiting period, crews practised their navigation, and honed their formation flying, bombing, and gunnery skills. 6400 Japanese troops embarked at Rabaul between 23 and 27 February 1943, and the convoy of eight merchant ships and eight destroyers sailed just before midnight on the 28th, planning to arrive at Lae on 3 March. Air cover was provided by about 100 fighters flying out of bases in New Ireland, New Britain and New Guinea. The enemy convoy initially was favoured by poor weather, which hampered allied reconnaissance. It wasn’t until mid-morning on 2 March that USAAF B-24 Liberators sighted the ships. General Kenney immediately launched eight B-17 Flying Fortress heavy bombers, followed shortly afterwards by another twenty. The B-17s attacked from an altitude of 2000 metres with 450-kilogram demolition bombs. Later in the day another strike was made by eleven B-17s whose crews reported that vessels were “burning and exploding … smoking and burning amidships” and “left sinking”. By nightfall, the enemy was only hours from Lae, which meant that in the morning it would be within range of the entire allied strike force. If the coordinated attack were to succeed, the precise location of the convoy had to be known at daybreak; consequently, throughout the night, it was tracked by an RAAF Catalina from No. 11 Squadron, which occasionally dropped bombs and flares to keep the Japanese soldiers in a state of anxiety. Also during the night, eight RAAF Beaufort torpedo bombers from No. 100 Squadron took-off from Milne Bay to try to use the darkness to their advantage. Heavy frontal weather made navigation hazardous and only two aircraft found the convoy. Neither scored a hit. The moment the Allied Air Forces had been waiting for came on the morning of 3 March 1943, when the Japanese convoy rounded the Huon Peninsula. For much of the time adverse weather had helped the enemy avoid detection, but now clear conditions favoured the allies. Over ninety aircraft took-off from Port Moresby and set heading for their rendezvous point. While the strike force was en route, RAAF Bostons from No. 22 Squadron bombed the enemy airfield at Lae. By 9:30 a.m. the AAF formations had assembled, and by 10:00 a.m. the Battle of the Bismarck Sea had begun. The allies attacked in three waves and from three levels, only seconds apart. First, thirteen USAAF B-17s bombed from medium altitude. In addition to the obvious objective of sinking ships, those attacks were intended to disperse the convoy by forcing vessels to break station to avoid being hit. Second, thirteen RAAF Beaufighters from No. 30 Squadron hit the enemy from very low level, lining up on their targets as the bombs from the B-17s were exploding. With four cannons in its nose and six machine guns in its wings, the Beaufighter was the most heavily armed fighter in the world. The Australians’ job was twofold: to suppress anti-aircraft fire; and to kill ships’ captains and officers on their bridges. The Beaufighters initially approached at 150 metres above the sea in line astern formation. The pilots then descended even lower, to mast-level height, set full power on their engines, changed into line abreast formation, and approached their targets at 420 kilometres an hour. It seems that some of the Japanese captains thought the Beaufighters were going to make a torpedo attack because they altered course to meet the Australians head-on, to present a smaller profile. Instead, they made themselves better targets for strafing. With a slight alteration of heading the Beaufighters were now in an ideal position to rake the ships from bow to stern, which they did, subjecting the enemy to a withering storm of cannon and machine gun fire. RAAF Beaufighters strafing the enemy convoy. Credit: RAAF According to the official RAAF release, “enemy crews were slain beside their guns, deck cargo burst into flame, superstructures toppled and burned”. With the convoy now dispersed and in disarray, the third wave of attackers was able to concentrate on sinking ships. Thirteen American B-25 Mitchells made a medium level bombing strike while, simultaneously, a mast-level attack was made by twelve specially modified Mitchells, known as “commerce destroyers” because of their heavy armament. The commerce destroyers were devastating, claiming seventeen direct hits. Close behind the Mitchells, USAAF Bostons added more firepower. Following the coordinated onslaught, Beaufighters, Mitchells and Bostons intermingled as they swept back and forth over the convoy, strafing and bombing. Within minutes of the opening shots the battle had turned into a rout. At the end of the action “ships were listing and sinking, their superstructure smashed and blazing, and great clouds of dense black smoke [rose] into a sky where aircraft circled and dived over the confusion they had wrought among what, less than an hour earlier, had been an impressively orderly convoy”. Overhead the surface battle, twenty-eight USAAF P-38 Lightning fighters provided air defence for the strike force. In their combat with the Zeros which were attempting to protect the convoy, three of the Lightnings were shot down, but in turn the American pilots claimed twenty kills. Apart from those three P-38s, the only other allied aircraft lost was a single B-17, shot down by a Zero. With their armament expended the allied aircraft returned to Port Moresby. But there was to be no respite for the enemy. Throughout the afternoon the attacks continued. Again, B-17s struck from medium level, this time in cooperation with Mitchells and RAAF Bostons flying at very low level. (Incidentally, the Bostons were led by Squadron Leader Charles Learmonth, after whom the RAAF’s present-day base in northwest Australia is named.) At least twenty direct hits were claimed against the by-now devastated convoy. That was the last of the coordinated attacks. The victory had been won. For the loss of a handful of aircraft, the Allied Air Forces had sunk twelve ships – all eight of the troop transports and four of the eight destroyers – and had killed more than 3000 enemy soldiers. The brilliantly conceived and executed operation had smashed Japanese hopes of regaining the initiative in New Guinea, and had eliminated any possibility that Australia might be invaded. In the words of the supreme command of the Southwest Pacific Area, General Douglas MacArthur, the Battle of the Bismarck Sea was “the decisive aerial engagement” of the war in the Southwest Pacific. But there was still a terrible yet essential finale to come. For several days after the battle, allied aircrews patrolled the Huon Gulf, searching for and strafing barges and rafts crowded with survivors. It was grim and bloody work, but as one RAAF Beaufighter pilot said, every enemy soldier they prevented from getting ashore was one less for their Army colleagues to face. And after fifteen months of Japanese brutality, the great immorality, it seemed to them, would have been to have ignored the rights of their own soldiers. Japanese media never mentioned the battle, but in a macabre footnote, two weeks later, Tokyo announced that in future all Japanese soldiers were to be taught to swim. The Battle of the Bismarck Sea was a master-class in air power. The RAAF and the USAAF had smashed Japanese hopes of regaining the initiative in New Guinea; they had forced the enemy into a defensive posture from which ultimate victory was unlikely; and they had eliminated any possibility that Australia might be invaded. This was arguably Australia’s most important victory in World War II. Dr Alan Stephens is a Fellow of the Sir Richard Williams Foundation #RAAF #BismarckSea #Beaufighters #WorldWarII #USAAF

When it comes to prioritising jointness, Air Force’s history isn’t great. Perhaps it’s time for the RAAF to appreciate that, for its future combat capabilities to be fully effective, it must change. RAAF helicopters and Australian Army soldiers, Vietnam, c. 1967. Credit: RAAF In Air Force Strategy 2017-2027 Chief of Air Force, Air Marshal Leo Davies, states that Air Force will “promote a commitment to jointness in Air Force culture such that Air Force members recognise their own capabilities as operating primarily on behalf of the whole Australian Defence Force”. While it is not unusual for a chief of air force to mention a commitment to jointness within an Air Force strategy document, it is unusual to suggest that Air Force culture may need to change to achieve it. Quite rightly, many have asked why the sudden emphasise on jointness? The more cynical observer may suggest that because Air Force has spent the last five years winning the procurement wars on Russell Hill they can now afford to be magnanimous in their attitude to jointness. Perhaps more accurately, it’s because Air Force recognises that the nature of jointness is evolving. With a greater understanding that joint in the future is more about interdependence between the Services, rather than just coordination and cooperation, Air Force may realise that for its future capabilities to be fully combat effective it must embrace jointness as a priority. To be frank, Air Force’s history when it comes to prioritising joint capabilities isn’t great. To clarify that statement, when it comes to fighting together at the operational and tactical levels, the men and women of the Royal Australian Air Force show a true commitment to jointness. The same can be said for each of the Services: during periods of conflict they all work jointly to find practical solutions to complex operational issues. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said when, as an organisation, Air Force is required to find the money and people to properly resource joint capabilities. Obviously that’s not true of all joint capabilities, but the ones the Air Force seems to struggle with the most are those that live on the fringes between the Services. For example, capabilities such as air-land integration, forward air control, precision air-drop and unmanned aerial vehicles. These capabilities which fall into the gaps between the Services are only going to increase in size and importance because, as the RAND Corporation’s Carl Builder wrote more than twenty years ago, while the “point of the spear is getting sharper, the shaft of the spear is getting longer and more important as well”. While members of Navy and Army may believe this lack of joint focus is a coordinated RAAF plot, my belief is less Machiavellian in nature and stems from Robert Jervis’ explanation that observed behaviour is less likely to be planned and coordinated, and more likely to be a series of uncoordinated events. It is my hypothesis that Air Force doesn’t maintain the appropriate priority on jointness because externally, the politics of the Defence acquisition and funding processes don’t reward the Services for valuing joint, and internally, Air Force’s culture and promotion system teach the individual that thinking blue is more valued than thinking purple. I don’t believe that Air Force consistently and consciously chooses not to prioritise jointness, but the net effects of bureaucratic organisational behaviour and complex internal culture make it more likely that Air Force will unconsciously choose to prioritise independent Air Force activity. To be blunt, because of the way organisational behaviour and Air Force culture condition individual Air Force members to think and act, if a capability hasn’t got a set of wings attached to it, then you’ll struggle to hold Air Force’s resource-limited and operationally-distracted attention. I suspect that a similar phenomenon (minus the need for a set of wings) may also be found within Navy and Army, but because Air Force is in the unique position of having to provide air power to the other two Services to enable their core combat functions, Air Force transgressions away from jointness are more visible and tend to carry greater consequence. While jointness has always been a stated goal of the Australian Defence Force, to enable the organisation to take the next step in the evolution of jointness, in which the requirements for interdependence will ensure that working together will no longer be an option but rather a necessity, Air Force is going to have to choose to prioritise jointness. For this to occur, Air Force and each of the Services to varying degrees will need to remove the organisational behavioural and cultural roadblocks that continue to encourage individuals to unconsciously prioritise independent Service preferences over joint capabilities. RAAF Kittyhawk close attack fighter (background) landing during the Battle of Milne Bay, 1942. Credit: RAAF Unfortunately, I don’t have a ready answer on how Air Force will effect this change and comply with the Chief’s direction to promote a commitment to jointness. Perhaps we may see a change in organisational behaviour at the strategic level if the new capability life cycle teaches the Services that Defence values jointness over independent Service capabilities. Which in turn, may flow down through the individual Service headquarters as hard working staff officers are forced to apply a new level of joint compliance and justification to their capability submissions. In relation to organisational culture, everything I have read on the subject suggests that it is extremely difficult to change an entrenched and stable culture. As recent history within Air Force has already demonstrated, transformational change of that magnitude can only be achieved through determined leadership, continual reinforcement, and by demonstrating that Air Force rewards individuals who truly value jointness. Group Captain Stephen Edgeley is an RAAF/Williams Foundation doctoral candidate at UNSW Canberra #Army #Jointness #RAAF #serviceculture

A boom in consumer drone sales has spawned a counter-industry of start-ups aiming to stop drones flying where they shouldn’t, by disabling them or knocking them out of the sky, report Jeremy Wagstaff and Swati Pandey of Reuters An eagle trained by the Netherlands police captures a drone inflight with its claws (photo credit Koen/Van/Weel/AFP/Getty Images) Drones Rule Dozens of start-up firms are developing techniques – from deploying birds of prey to firing gas through a bazooka – to take on UAVs that are being used to smuggle drugs, drop bombs, spy on enemy lines or buzz public spaces. The arms race is fed in part by the slow pace of government regulation for drones. In Australia, for example, different agencies regulate drones and counter-drone technologies. “There are potential privacy issues in operating remotely piloted aircraft, but the Civil Aviation Safety Authority’s role is restricted to safety. Privacy is not in our remit,” the CASA told Reuters. “There’s a bit of a fear factor here,” says Kyle Landry, an analyst at Lux Research. “The high volume of drones, plus regulations that can’t quite keep pace, equals a need for personal counter-drone technology.” The consumer drone market is expected to be worth $5 billion by 2021, according to market researcher Tractica, with the average drone in the United States costing more than $500 and packing a range of features from high-definition cameras to built-in GPS, predicts NPD Group, a consultancy. Australian authorities relaxed drone regulations in September, allowing anyone to fly drones weighing up to 2kg without training, insurance, registration or certification. Elsewhere, millions of consumers can fly high-end devices – and so can drug traffickers, criminal gangs and insurgents. Drones have been used to smuggle mobile phones, drugs and weapons into prisons, in one case triggering a riot. One US prison governor has converted a bookshelf into an impromptu display of drones his officers have confiscated. Armed groups in Iraq, Ukraine, Syria and Turkey are increasingly using off-the-shelf drones for reconnaissance or as improvised explosive devices, says Nic Jenzen-Jones, director of Armament Research Services, a consultancy on weapons. A booby-trapped drone launched by Islamic State militants killed two Kurdish Peshmerga fighters and wounded two French soldiers in October near Mosul. The use of drones by such groups is likely to spread, says Jenzen-Jones. “There’s an understanding that the threat can migrate beyond existing conflict zones,” he told Reuters. Anti-Drones This is feeding demand for increasingly advanced technology to bring down or disable unwanted drones. At one end of the scale, the Dutch national police recently bought several birds of prey from a start-up called Guard From Above to pluck unwanted drones from the sky, its CEO and founder Sjoerd Hoogendoorn said in an email. Other approaches focus on netting drones, either via bigger drones or by guns firing a net and a parachute via compressed gas. Some, like Germany’s DeDrone, take a less intrusive approach by using a combination of sensors – camera, acoustic, Wi-Fi signal detectors and radio frequency (RF) scanners – to passively monitor drones within designated areas. Newer start-ups, however, are focusing on cracking the radio wireless protocols used to control a drone’s direction and payload to then take it over and block its video transmission. Singapore’s TeleRadio Engineering uses RF signals in its SkyDroner device to track and control drones and a video feed to confirm targets visually. DroneVision Inc of Taiwan, meanwhile, says it is the first to anticipate the frequency hopping many drones use. Founder Kason Shih says his anti-drone gun – resembling a rifle with two oversized barrels, coupled with a backpack – blocks the drone’s GPS signals and video transmission, forcing it back to where it took off via the drone’s own failsafe features. Varied Clientele Clients, the start-up companies say, range from intelligence agencies to hotels. DroneVision, for example, helped local police down 40 drones flying around Taipei 101, one of the world’s tallest buildings and a magnet for drone users, in a single day. In the Middle East, upscale hotels are talking to at least two companies about blocking drones from taking shots of their celebrity guests longing poolside or in the privacy of their bathrooms. And even while the military, Jenzen-Jones says, may have the capability to bring down drones, demand is shifting to nimbler, more agile devices to cope with attacks using smaller off-the-shelf devices. “The key is looking for systems that are scalable, lightweight and easily deployable,” he said. DroneShield, an Australian-listed company, says it has sold its drone detection equipment to an Asian national security agency it declined to identify, and the Turkish prime minister’s office. Regulation The problem, such companies say, is that regulations on the use of drones – and about countering them – are still in their infancy. In countries like the United States and Australia, for example, drones are considered private property, and they can only be jammed by government agencies. “Mitigation capabilities,” says Jonathan Hunter, CEO of Department 13, “are therefore limited.” Oleg Vornik, chief financial officer of DroneShield, however, says: “This is expected to change shortly as governments start to recognise that critical infrastructure facilities such as airports need to be able to defend themselves against drones.” In the United States, the Federal Aviation Administration is testing various counter-drone technologies at several airports. Interest in the space will only grow. London will next year host the world’s first two conferences on counter-drone technologies, says Jenzen-Jones. But there will also likely be consolidation. DroneShield’s Vornik says the company has counted 100 counter-drone start-ups, and is talking to more than a dozen of them as potential acquisition targets. It’s too early, Vornik says, to see evidence of moves to get around anti-drone technology. But Amazon.com last month tested deliveries in the UK via drones, and published a patent describing how it might defend drones from threats, ranging from a bow and arrow to signal jammers. Jeremy Wagstaff and Swati Pandey are technology columnists for Reuters, who first posted this article in January 2017 #weapons #UAVs #drones #technology #Innovation #aviationregulations

Like the RAAF, the Royal Norwegian Air Force is currently undertaking a major modernisation program, including the acquisition of F-35As, P-8s, and the Joint Strike Missile. While the two air forces’ geopolitical circumstances are very different, the similarities of their organisational approach to managing change are noteworthy Dr Robbin Laird recently interviewed the RNoAF’s newly-appointed chief, Major General Tonje Skinnarland, and the head of the National Air Operations Center, Brigadier General Jan Ove Rygg. Major General Tonje Skinnarland. Credit: RNoAF Among other things, Major General Skinnarland emphasised the need to reshape concepts of operations, and to integrate C2 across the Norwegian defence structure. She noted that the F-35 will enable distributed operations, and that part of the challenge in reforming C2 will be to endorse the notion of “mission command”; that is, to give individual pilots greater tactical decision-making authority, instead of using an excessively centralised system. Dr Laird: “The RNoAF is in a period of significant transition. What are the main challenges and opportunities?” Major General Skinnarland: “We are modernising our platforms but we need to transform our force, our culture, and our processes as well. “The strategic decisions made in a long-term investment will make us, even though small, one of the most modern air forces in the world in some years to come. “At the same time, the security situation is challenging. After the annexation of Crimea and the build-up of Russian capabilities over the last years, we understand that we have to revitalise the concept of actually defending Norway in high intensity operations. “It is not just about adding new platforms; it is about shaping joint capabilities for the defence of Norway in a high intensity operational setting. “To achieve integrated defence and joint operations will not be easy and certainly will not happen simply by adding new platforms. “There are a lot of different tasks to be done, ranging from getting all the spare parts, logistics, the training and, of course, shaping the national defence plan. “As we get all these new systems, which will make us even more capable of handling the current situation and current threats together with other allies and partners, there is another [major] challenge: How best to manage the process of change. “A key challenge here will be on the human capital side. “How do we best train and task our people in shaping our new integrated force? For it will depend on them to actually bring such a force into being. “When it comes to the opportunities inherent in our new systems, particularly the F-35, the capability in the aircraft itself with weapons technology and networking will come. “But how do we make sure we are able to utilise these technologies fully and effectively? “We must shape the correct competencies, the correct concepts of operations, and develop and execute effective plans for joint operations as well.” Brigadier General Jan Ove Rygg: “If I address the same question, but from my perspective, the challenge is to get the joint processes in Norway to the point where we can do targeting efficiently. “We need to build an effective national command and control capability which seamlessly works with core allies who are crucial to defence operations in the High North. “What makes this particularly challenging is national coordination and C2 for national defence in ground, sea and air operations, which can work with key allies in extended defence operations.” Dr Laird: “Clearly, with core allies in the region operating similar platforms, notably the F-35 and P-8, there are significant opportunities for interoperability built in, but obviously these potentials need to become realities. How can you best ensure that happens?” Major General Skinnarland: “With the UK, the US, the Danes and the Dutch operating the same combat aircraft, there are clear opportunities to shape new common operational capabilities. “It’s also crucial to shape a strong European F-35 sustainment base to ensure that we get the kind of sortie generation capabilities inherent in the aircraft, but you need the right kind of logistical support to achieve the outcomes you want. The RNoAF’s first F-35 taking-off at Luke AFB, Arizona. Credit: RNoAF “The P-8s operating from the UK, Iceland, and Norway can shape a maritime domain awareness data capability which can inform our forces effectively as well but, again, this requires work to share the data and to shape common concepts of operations. “A key will be to exercise often and effectively together. “To shape effective concepts of operations will require bringing the new equipment and the people together to share experience and to shape a common way ahead. “[We see international exercises] as especially important in shaping effective national C2 and working towards more integrated operations with allies coming to Norway for exercises. We should plug and play in terms of our new capabilities, but that will not happen by itself, by simply adding new equipment. It will be hard work. “We have regular exercises in Norway like the Arctic Challenge Exercise, which builds on the weekly trilateral fighter training between Finland, Sweden, and Norway. “In May/June 2017 this Invitex will see more than one hundred fighter aircraft from eight nations, including the UK and US, participating in high quality training in the Nordic countries. “You also have other national exercises which are important in shaping our concepts of operations. “We need to enhance engagement with core NATO allies, such as expanding our working relationship with allied airpower operating in Norway during exercises. “We would love to see a UK F-35B squadron and a USAF F-35A squadron deploy to Norway during an exercise and operate in the northern part of Norway under Norwegian command and control to see how we can get them to work together. “They might fly either from home bases with air-to-air tankers or stage from Norway, and work on how we effectively can integrate those squadrons during joint operations.” Brigadier General Rygg: “The C2 issue is really a strategic one. “We are very good at the tactical level in operating in a joint context with our C2; we need to be as capable at the strategic level. “With a fifth-generation force, you have capabilities to off-board weapons and to direct fire from sea or land as well as air. “When you try to do targeting and actually engage targets with different resources it is a challenge.” Dr Robbin Laird is a military and security analyst. He has taught at Columbia, Princeton, and Johns Hopkins universities #RNoAF #P8 #Russia #IntegratedOperations #Joint #JointStrikeMissile #Norway #F35

Western defence forces need to do more to counter the emerging threat of COTS drones A COTS drone being tested by the US Army Cyber Command In October last year two French soldiers were wounded and two Kurdish fighters were killed in Iraq by a weaponised commercial-off-the-shelf (COTS) drone. This event sent shock waves through Western defence forces, with many looking for an innovative means with which to provide a solution to the emerging threat of weaponised drones. A number of articles and solutions have recently been published on this issue but perhaps it is worth stepping back and taking a better look at the problem as a whole. There is no doubt that drones pose a serious threat to Western militaries. For some decades Western forces have focused on counter-insurgency warfare, fighting against forces that couldn’t come close to their technological advantage. In this environment other nations and the private sector have started to catch up in regards to the development and use of drones. Currently there are two main threats to Western forces from drones. The first is insurgent forces using COTS drones for surveillance and attack. The second, often forgotten, threat is the use of drones by near-peer militaries, as demonstrated by Russia in Ukraine. With the current fight against ISIS in Iraq-Syria the focus is heavily on the insurgent COTS threat. So what do we do? The obvious answer should be to develop a counter-drone system that will prevent the enemy using COTS drones to target our personnel on operations. Unfortunately it’s not going to be that simple. While there is undoubtedly a technical solution that will mitigate some of the threat, what is really needed is an adjustment to the way we fight. When we look for technical solutions we are hoping that we will not have to go through the long process of changing other behaviours. To place this in an historical context, it is like the emergence of the machine gun. Armies could not just look for a counter-machine gun system and hope that their training, practices and tactics could remain unchanged. The entire way armies fought had to change. While the COTS drone is not as disruptive a force as the emergence of the machine gun, it too will change how we fight. But how do we change the way we fight? This is not a problem that can simply be “arm-chaired”, we cannot put a collection of clever people in a room and have them come up with the solution. We need to get out into the field. We need to start providing our opposing forces on exercises with COTS drones to use for surveillance. It would be interesting to see how young platoon commanders responded to having their platoons buzzed by hostile drones. Out of these lessons we can start changing how we fight. We may have to improve how we camouflage vehicles and positions (a skill that has become less practised in recent years). We may find that platoons have to patrol differently, or that our own drones become more important in regards to controlling the airspace. Do we need to protect forward operating bases from drones or is it more important to protect patrols? The key thing is that the only way we can learn these lessons is through trial and error. We need brave leadership willing to risk failure on exercise to ensure victory on operations. The near-peer threat offers a whole host of challenges. Russia is currently using 16 different types of drones of varying sizes in Ukraine. Russia has used Ukraine as a laboratory of sorts in which to experiment with new ways of using drones. One of the most concerning tactics is the use of drones working in pairs: one drone flies low in order to attract enemy ground fire, and the information is then passed on to another drone flying at a higher altitude, which then feeds the information back to artillery. Ukrainian forces are keenly aware that the appearance of drones often will precede massive artillery strikes. One such a strike destroyed two armoured Ukrainian battalions in less than three minutes. This is something the West needs to pay attention to. We need to ensure that we do not solely focus on the issue of COTS drones being used by insurgents, but also look at what role drones will play in conventional conflicts against a near-peer aggressor. Instead of regarding drones as something new we need to see them for what they are, namely, surveillance systems. Drones are in essence no different to forward observers or helicopters; they have simply removed the user to a ‘safe’ distance. We need to focus on defeating the system behind the drones rather than becoming too focused on the drones themselves. Even in regards to the use of drones as offensive weapons, they are essentially ‘smart’ weapons. If we can attack the systems behind them then they will revert back to being ‘dumb’ weapons and the threat they pose will be reduced. There is no easy answer to the emerging drone threat but there is a road map to mitigating the problem. We need to start integrating COTS drones into our exercises, and commanders need to become used to their troops being harassed by drones. From this, counter-tactics will be developed. There is no doubt that science and technology will find some way to reduce the threat of drones, but invariably the enemy will find a way to adapt. Putting all of our faith in a technological solution is a strategically precarious option and will result in needless casualties. We need to step up and show our willingness to engage in innovation and experimentation in the tactics space, not just in technological areas. This is how we can use innovation to stay ahead of the enemy and ensure we are not left behind by this new technology. Tim Jones is the New Zealand Army’s Innovation, Business Improvement and Efficiency Manager. This post first appeared on the website “Grounded Curiosity” on 27 November 2016. #COTS #tactics #drones #technology #armies #counterinsurgency

General Robert Scales argues that it’s time for the West’s armies to face-up to the full implications of the irresistible rise of robots in warfare “In war, boots on the ground are necessary, but we can do much more to reduce the body count” Robert Scales, 8 March 2017 The Past Retired US Army general Robert Scales is one of the West’s most distinguished soldier-scholars. But his advice hasn’t always been welcomed by his colleagues. There seems to have been two main problems. The first has been an apparent reluctance by many senior Army commanders to accept that Clausewitzean-derived warfighting concepts such as mass (as in very large numbers), taking and holding ground as an end in itself, close engagement, and attrition, have a strictly limited application in the 21st century. (A notable exception to this recidivist mindset has been the leadership of Special Forces, whose application of precision, speed, minimising friendly casualties, and a fleeting footprint have been the antithesis of Clausewitz’s 19th century understanding of warfare.) The second problem, which is a corollary of the first, has been the wilful determination of the West’s generals to persist with the intellectually unsustainable notion of “counterinsurgency” warfare, typified by massed invasion, extended occupation, and hollow slogans such as “war amongst the people”, the “three-block war”, and “winning hearts and minds”. US soldiers in Afghanistan, 2003. Credit: US Army It took fifty years and five defeats (Vietnam, Iraq twice, Afghanistan twice) before the model was finally abandoned in Syria/Iraq, where most of the fighting on the ground has now properly been left to indigenous armies (mentored by Western specialists) who actually can fight amongst the (their) people. Fifteen years before the West’s generals finally accepted reality and quietly abandoned the fiction of counterinsurgency warfare, General Scales had proposed an alternative operational concept in an article titled “Checkmate by Operational Maneuver” (Armed Forces Journal International, October 2001). Drawing on his analyses of the successful US-led air campaigns in Iraq in 1991 and the former Republic of Yugoslavia in 1995 and 1999, Scales developed a plan for the employment of highly-mobile land forces defined by speed, precision, knowledge dominance, and a fleeting footprint. As Scales acknowledged, he wanted armies to replicate the characteristics of advanced air power. Scales concluded that, because of the dominance of Western air power, future opponents would be unlikely to fight in mass, which would leave them vulnerable to punishing air strikes, but would instead seek to follow the classic guerilla tactic of operating in small groups and making high-value, high-publicity, hit-and-run attacks against civilian as much as military targets. Consequently, land forces would need a different mindset and structure from those that had previously characterised armies. Against that background, Scales proposed a combined arms methodology in which armies “would not need to occupy key terrain or confront the mass of the enemy directly”. Implicit in his concept was the judgment that in many circumstances it would be preferable either to destroy an enemy’s assets, or to strike briefly but decisively against one vital point, rather than routinely try to occupy and seize his territory. Under Scales’ model, doctrinally and technologically advanced land forces would use fast-moving air and surface vehicles to make rapid and unexpected manoeuvre one of their primary characteristics. They would also work as an integrated whole with air strike forces, with the lead element at any one time being decided by the enemy’s disposition. Should the enemy concentrate he would be identified and attacked with precision weapons launched from air platforms operating at standoff distances. Should he disperse and go to ground, not only would he negate his own ability to concentrate force, but he also would leave himself vulnerable to attacks by numerically and qualitatively superior land forces exploiting their rapid manoeuvre capabilities. Prototypes of this kind of operation were evident on occasions during the American-led campaigns in Afghanistan in 2001-2 and Iraq in 2003. A crucial feature of Scales’ model was the brevity of the occupation and warfighting phases, noting that it has only been when Western armies have overstayed their (strictly limited) period of usefulness and tried to become something they are not that they started to experience serious problems in Iraq and Afghanistan. It is a matter for regret that General Scales’ prescient concept received little attention in Western military academies, where it seems to have been neither read nor debated. No reference to his article can be found, for example, in the professional journals of the US Army and the Australian Army from 2002 to 2016 (see Parameters, The US Army War College Quarterly; and the Australian Army Journal), both of which by contrast are replete with earnest discussions rationalising the continuing failures of counterinsurgency warfare. The Present Fast-forward sixteen years, and General Scales has presented another compelling analysis of contemporary warfare, this time in an op-ed piece in National Review, “What Ryan Owens Can Teach Us about Crushing ISIS” (March 8, 2017). Ryan Owens was a USN SEAL chief petty officer who was killed in Yemen in January 2017 while on his fifth combat tour. The key points made by General Scales are as follows: Own casualties have properly become a centre of gravity for the West Enemies like Daesh and al-Qaeda – and, indeed, the Viet Cong and North Vietnamese before them – are well aware of this In recent years, Western commanders have sensibly exploited their incontestable advantage in the air and in cyberspace to contain and then to inexorably degrade al-Qaeda and Daesh, and to minimise our land forces’ exposure to close-contact fighting That is, they have “saved lives by substituting firepower for manpower” And they have also, again properly, required their indigenous allies to accept prime responsibility for fighting on the ground But as Scales goes on to note, “killing from the air has limitations” and, as the war against Daesh moves into the urban settings of Mosul and Raqqa and the extremists adapt by hiding amongst civilians, dispersing, and digging in, those limitations will be exposed. Consequently, at some stage, more Western boots on the ground will be needed to advise and to fight alongside indigenous soldiers. And “as long as soldiers like Ryan Owens are compelled to ‘lead with their bodies’, they will continue to die in unacceptable numbers”. The Problem This leads to Scales’ key observation: “The only way to radically lessen the cost is to replace bodies with unmanned surrogates such as drones and robotic vehicles.” Thus, in General Scales’ opinion, the time has come for Western armies to fully embrace robotics in close combat. Two immediate applications were recommended. First, the West must “proliferate” armed drones, which will be controlled by forward combat elements and will fire missiles at the push of a cellphone button to kill enemy soldiers only metres away. And second, clusters of small, autonomous, machine-gun firing robots must be introduced to lead close-up assaults. “Just imagine”, Scales writes, “how differently Ryan Owens’s raid would have played out if … robots [had been] available to lead the assault.” A “Modular Advanced Armed Robotic System”. Credit: US Army General Scales concluded his article with a disturbing question: “If the greatest impediment to winning wars over the past many decades is the specter of dead Americans, why hasn’t the nation done more to keep alive those most likely to die?” The Point Thus far, the debate over the use of robotics in war has largely focused on RPVs/UAVs/drones, and on air power; and a fair case can be made that progress has not been as fast as it could have because of the reflexive resistance to unmanned aircraft of the pilots who run air forces. But if General Scales is right – and there’s every reason to believe he is, just as he was sixteen years ago when he challenged the-then predominant Army way of war – the point is arguably even more important for armies. The question then becomes: Given that the technology has existed for some years, why hasn’t more been done, sooner? Dr Alan Stephens is a Fellow of the Sir Richard Williams Foundation #Robotics #UAS #drones #armies #casualties #Daesh #Clausewitz #alQaeda #COIN

Given the recent appearance in Australia of F-22s and F-35s, it’s timely to revisit some observations on fifth-generation capabilities made by one of Australia’s first F-22 pilots Earlier this year, twelve USAF F-22s deployed from their home base in Alaska to Tindal and Townsville. It was the first ‘Enhanced Air Cooperation‘ activity in Australia involving the world’s best air-to-air combat aircraft and the RAAF. Two United States Air Force F-22 aircraft arrive at RAAF Base Tindal under grey skies and rain in the Northern Territory, ahead of the first Enhanced Air Cooperation activity in Australia. [Image credit: RAAF] At the same time, but on the other side of the world, in Nevada, the F-35 Joint Strike Fighter, which the RAAF is acquiring, made a highly successful debut in the USAF’s premier international air warfare exercise, Red Flag. Shortly afterwards, Australia’s first two F-35s appeared at the Avalon air show, following a trans-Pacific flight. The F-22 and the F-35 are the world’s only operational fifth-generation strike/fighters. Given the significance of these separate but complementary activities, it’s worthwhile revisiting some observations made about the Fifth-Generation capability by one of the RAAF’s first F-22 pilots, Wing Commander Matthew Harper, at a previous Williams Foundation seminar. Why fifth-generation is different The term fourth to fifth generation suggests a gradual step-change function, much like the evolution of airpower over the past 50 years. However, fifth-generation isn’t a step-change – it’s a leap into a whole new way of doing air combat and combat operations. This new way is so different that it actually requires Fourth generation pilots (in Harper’s case, the RAAF’s Super Hornet) to undergo an ‘unlearning’ process. The suggestion made by some commentators that the RAAF should have gone into an equipment ‘holding pattern’ and bought more fourth-generation aircraft would not have provided a path to the future: it would have left us stranded in a different, outdated historical epoch. It would’ve been comparable to cavalry charges with horses and Blitzkrieg warfare, something that didn’t work out very well for Poland in 1939. The systems in the F-22– which take an even greater leap forward in the F-35– provide the pilot with a decision-making role, not an overburdened ‘look at your screens and sort out what to do’ role. Three key experiences highlight the meaning of fifth-generation: First, within thirty minutes of sitting down in a simulator, pilots realise that in an F-22 they will dominate the air space. Second, their abilities are dramatically augmented.  One USAF pilot with only 350 hours total flight time flew an F-22 in Exercise Red Flag and dominated his airspace. This is impossible to imagine in any other aircraft. Third, a USAF F-15C pilot stated that, ‘I have more situational awareness with only 20 hours on the F-22A than I ever had in over 1500 hours on the F-15C’. Making Fifth-Generation Work The overarching point of Wing Commander Harper’s presentation was that the fifth-generation experience is about disruptive change, not evolution. Pilots need to fly F-22s and F-35s to comprehend the extent of that change, and to learn how to shape tactics and concepts of operations relevant to 21st century operations, rather than try to apply their 20th century piloting skills acquired from fourth-generation systems. Wing Commander Harper emphasised that the Super Hornet is in no way comparable to the F-22. The Super Hornet is limited by not having been built from the ground up as an information dominance aircraft; by comparison, the F-22 is a situational awareness and information dominance system for the 21st century battlespace, The Super Hornet is a significant upgrade from the classic Hornet, but it can never deliver fifth-generation capabilities; namely, integrated data fusion, and re-shaping the pilot and squadron roles in prosecuting air dominance and support to the joint force. In short, the leap ahead is crucial, and reworking the culture of the RAAF will be necessary to leverage the disruptive technology inherent in its emerging fifth-generation platforms.

The Air Force recognises that diversity in the workplace will both increase the pool of potential recruits, and improve the quality of decision-making in the organisation. In this post ‘Social Experimentation and Political Correctness Gone Mad: Moving past the Capability Argument for an Inclusive Military‘, Wing Commander Jarrod Pendlebury advocates for the need to move beyond these capability arguments to a more fundamental examination of the role of armed forces within a society, and their obligation to reflect that society. Much of the rhetoric supporting a drive for a diverse or inclusive military rests on what can be described as a capability argument. At its core, this argument implies that inclusiveness represents a good because of what it can bring us. While there is much evidence to suggest that harnessing a variety of viewpoints and experiences can result in beneficial performance outcomes, there are more compelling reasons to work towards an air force that is demographically representative of Australian society. In On War, Carl von Clausewitz articulates the nexus between military action and politics by describing war as ‘the continuation of politics by other means.’ By extension therefore, I argue that the values espoused by a particular government should be demonstrated and reflected in and by the military. In a western liberal democracy, the operations of the military are continually – and necessarily – bounded. International Humanitarian Law enshrines key principles for the conduct of war that resonate with western values; notably, proportionality of response and a broad requirement to minimise suffering. For example, reflecting the Australian Government’s codification of various Humanitarian Law instruments, the Australian Defence Force (ADF) does not operate to a default setting of total war. Aside from its gross disproportionality, such a strategy would also run contrary to many Australian values; values with which our elected government has signified our agreement by signing various international instruments and conventions on our – the citizens’ – behalf. The Defence Force is part of the community, and must reflect community values [Image credit: Defence] To me, this reveals limitations to the capability argument. To illustrate, I suggest the military might of a western, liberal democracy might be viewed as resulting from a confluence of three factors: requirements, resources and values. Government’s problem, then, is to maximise the value of all three factors while simultaneously minimising the impact of each on the others. To do otherwise (that is, to seek a maximal outcome of one or two at the remainder’s expense) is problematic. Take ‘requirements’ for instance. An air force equipped with a vast array of aircraft, each capable of executing one specific mission type might be the most effective way to prepare for any contingency but would likely drain a nation’s resources to the point that it was unable to fund other, non-military, obligations. So in this case, the effort to maximise the capability requirements of an air force would come at the direct expense of available resources. Conversely, very low levels of funding would significantly limit military capability. My argument thus far follows a traditional path: careful capability planning and budgeting is necessary to avoid costly military mistakes. Apart from quibbling over the size of the Defence budget, I suspect there would be few who dispute that a dialogical relationship exists between available funds and capability requirements, thus necessitating compromise. However it is evident from public discourse, that concessions in support of values-based considerations are with met with much greater resistance and suspicion than those supporting a resources or requirements argument. A common narrative decries the ‘weakening’ of our military through the corrosive introduction (variably described through colourful phrases such as ‘social experimentation’ or ‘political correctness gone mad’) of non-traditional members into culturally homogenous specialisations. Such an argument contends that the ADF is becoming soft (and therefore presumably ineffective in combat) by lowering the standards that have become normalised over years of male-only participation. Hyperbole aside, the nub of this argument reflects the proponent’s position on the relative weight that should be applied to the capability and values arm of the triangle. At its simplest, this argument suggests that capability should necessarily trump values. But we already make decisions to circumscribe our capability in order to better reflect our national values. For instance, the deployment of anti-personnel landmines might be an effective method by which to deny access to parts of the battlespace, but their indiscriminate effects conflict with broader Australian values to the extent that the ADF prohibits their use. To some extent, this example muddies the waters, since there is unequivocal evidence indicating the harm presented by anti-personnel land mines. Less obvious, is any conclusive evidence that the risk (if any) presented by a more demographically reflective military is worth compromising our national values that celebrate the opportunity for all Australians to fully participate in public life. In my view, basing the argument for a diverse military on the potential capability benefits risks marginalising what I see as a far more compelling reason to identify and remove unreasonable barriers to more equal participation in the ADF. To my mind, the imperative to build inclusive cultures within the ADF is simpler; to do so would reflect how we view ourselves as Australians. Seeking ways to better harness the skills of half of the Australian population (in the case of women) is not ‘social experimentation’; it represents a pragmatic approach to valuing and respecting the Australian value of a fair go for everyone. Instead of first looking at what we can gain from an inclusive military, we should recognise that aspiring to such an organization is a good in and of itself and moreover, is the right thing to do. Wing Commander Jarrod Pendlebury is the commanding officer of No. 35 Squadron, and an RAAF/Williams Foundation Scholar. The opinions expressed are his alone and do not reflect those of the Royal Australian Air Force, the Australian Defence Force, or the Australian Government. #AirForce #CIVMILRelations #Culture #Society

Talk of innovation and the need for cross-pollination to break down stove-pipes is widespread in today’s Air Force, but it is sometimes difficult for those in the field to see beyond the strategic messaging to embrace the operational importance of these concepts. In this review of The Hunter Killers: The Extraordinary Story of the First Wild Weasels, the Mavericks Who Flew the Most Dangerous Missions of the Vietnam War, Squadron Leader Jimmy draws our attention to the reality of wartime innovation and how a blending of the tribes laid the foundation for a defining capability of modern air power. Wild Weasel concept was first explained to him. “You want me to fly in the back of a little tiny fighter aircraft with a crazy fighter pilot who thinks he’s invincible, home in on a SAM site in North Vietnam, and shoot it before it shoots me?” Bottom line up front; those that seek to understand the pressures and realities of fast jet air combat, gain a practical insight into electronic warfare (EW) or understand Suppression of Enemy Air Defences (SEAD) should read this book. The Hunter Killers is a collection of gritty fast jet air combat vignettes woven together through a deep knowledge of the subject matter to produce an engaging narrative that is full of rich and relevant lessons for any air power professional. The Hunter Killers is the story of the USAF ‘Wild Weasel’ program from inception as a response to the radar Surface to Air Missile (SAM) threat in 1965, through operations and ongoing development throughout the Vietnam War. This book covers a broad swathe of issues that pose excellent signposts for a modern Air Force. Junior members will gain a tremendous insight into the excitement, frictions, brutal realities and the complex science that goes into the application of modern air power in a high threat environment. The explanation of the SA-2 GUIDELINE system, and description of the engagement process for that system in the book’s Prologue is simply one of the best threat lessons available for the uninitiated. Later chapters describe the iterative developments and counter-developments in the cat and mouse game of SAMs vs SEAD; these lessons remain critically relevant in the contemporary and anticipated operating environments. North Vietnamese SAM crew in front of SA-2 launcher. (Image Credit: U.S. Air Force) The ‘Wild Weasel’ program is described in illustrative detail and provides a useful model of agile organizational and technical innovation. The Weasel program is a useful reference for practitioners in contemporary defence innovation; ultimately it delivered a credible, unprecedented initial capability into theatre in a very tight timeline. Operators were engaged with industry partners early in the system integration phase of a rapid capability development and procurement process. Operator and trials feedback influenced a broad swathe of details from ergonomics to antenna types and locations; and it worked. The Hunter Killers tells us that operators were rapidly integrated in a trials and development program before deploying to theatre as a formed body; B-52 Electronic Warfare Officers, amongst others, were teamed with ‘crazy fighter pilots who think they’re invincible.’ The narrative describes, in revealing detail, the frictions brought about by the unceremonious fusion of these diverse tribes into a crew concept. It highlights the risks of poor crew integration and the subsequent benefits of working as a truly integrated crew in combat. The narrative offers a warning on capability development without effective integration of threat intelligence and tactics development. The initial ‘combat evaluation’ in Vietnam reflects the attritional impact of the subsequent ‘trial by fire’; half of the crews of the first two Wild Weasel programs were Killed in Action. The author of the book, LTCOL (Retd) Dan ‘2Dogs’ Hampton, was an F-16 ‘Viper’ Wild Weasel. He is a graduate of both the USAF and USN weapons schools and weaseled in Kosovo and both Gulf Wars. Hampton has 21 kills on SAM sites, four DFCs with Valour and a Purple Heart. In short, he knows his stuff when it comes to combat aviation and killing SAMs, and this lends real authenticity to the narrative. However, his writing style does detract from the quality of his narrative; his manner and tone towards anyone that isn’t a fighter pilot is often dismissive. Suffice to say that of the ‘humble, approachable, credible’ qualities of a weapons officer, he may have underperformed on the ‘humble’ aspect but he has certainly nailed ‘credible’. The book is based on extensive interviews and engagement with Wild Weasel veterans and reference to a broad range of primary sources, so it is certainly a credible retelling of the Weasel story. In order to provide context to the Weasel story the author takes a couple of chapters within the book to provide the geo-strategic and political context of US operations in Vietnam. The facts are informative in these sections, but the opinions and views of the author are certainly not objective and should be treated with caution. I thoroughly recommend this book to anyone with an interest in the history of air power, the Vietnam War, or innovation in conflict.  It is essential reading for junior intelligence officers and anyone else likely to find themselves in the kill chain. Squadron Leader Jimmy is a current serving RAAF Intelligence Officer. He has a background in fast-jet strike and EW, ISR and Air-Land Integration. The opinions expressed are his alone and do not reflect those of the Royal Australian Air Force, the Australian Defence Force, or the Australian Government. #AirPower #EW #Innovation #VietnamWar

This year’s opening article revisits the F-35B debate sparked by Jenna Higgins’ post from December 2016. Steve George’s response addresses the key issues. Back in November 2014, I wrote a piece for the Australian Strategic Policy Institute on potential F-35B operations from the new RAN LHDs (LHD and F-35B: The Debate Opens Up). It received a mention in a recent piece here on The Central Blue by Flight Lieutenant Jenna Higgins (Is ‘A’ really better than ‘B’?), which set off a spirited discussion. As a result, I’ve been asked by The Central Blue team to provide a stand-alone piece to update my original article and touch on some of the main issues raised. My aim, however, hasn’t changed – to stimulate informed and objective debate on how the Australian Defence Force (ADF) could best deploy its F-35 force capability. FLTLT Higgins referred to ‘a heated debate’ on the F-35B/LHD question. It’s worth noting that discussions about naval (or maritime) air power often seem to get ‘heated’, particularly when the word ‘carrier’ appears, or when it appears to compete with land based air power. Sadly, it’s my experience that much of the heat doesn’t shed any light, and the recent discussion thread on The Central Blue had some examples of the genre, which I’ll address. I’ll also update my assessment of the technical issues surrounding F-35B/LHD integration. Strike Capability I believe that the core issues can be simply framed.  How much air strike effect does the ADF want to be able to apply at long ranges from Australia? Can it (and should it) rely on Host Nation Support (HNS)? Would F-35Bs on LHDs provide a useful capability, and would it be cost effective? Any debate on the use of air power should recognise the iron laws of distance, time and speed that affect all air operations. Increasing the distance from base to objective reduces the amount of air power (time over the target) and the weight of ordnance that a force of aircraft can deliver in a given time frame. This isn’t a criticism of land-based air power, it’s a simple statement of physical fact. The further you have to fly, the longer the time spent in transit. Time spent in transit (both ways) is time you can’t spend delivering combat effect. If you want the same combat effect, you need more aircraft. This leads to my key conclusion. Proximity equals capability. Or, closer is better. This is why the US and the French have committed carriers to the current campaign in Syria and Iraq, located in the Eastern Mediterranean around 50 to 100 miles off the coast of Syria. It’s also why the Russians took the risk of basing their strike force on land in Syria. While I’m not arguing that Russian air strike tactics are a model for anyone in the West, their choice of a nearby land base has allowed them to deliver concentrated and devastatingly effective aerial bombardments. Naval air power in the Mediterranean: French Navy Rafales from the aircraft carrier FS Charles de Gaulle fly in formation above the flight deck of the aircraft carrier USS Dwight D. Eisenhower. [Image Credit: US Navy] Meanwhile, the ADF’s HNS for Operation OKRA (Iraq and Syria) is located in the UAE, well over 1000 miles away. Surely, no one could argue that this is the optimal location for medium range aircraft such as the F/A-18. Proponents of land-based air power solutions will point to AAR technology and the ability of their aircrew to conduct very long-range missions as the solution. It is, if your solution is simply to be seen to contribute. But if you want to materially influence events on the ground in a reasonable time frame, you need maximum time on task and weight of effort. If you have to fly over 1000 miles to get to the target, that’s millions of gallons of fuel burned and hours of flying time spent not delivering weapons. (The ADF’s own figures from their website http://www.defence.gov.au/Operations/Okra/atg.asp) show average F/A-18 sortie durations of around 7.6 hours). They simply can’t deliver much ‘air power’ time over the target at that range, as nearly all of their flying hours are being spent getting there and getting back. Nor can they deliver much weight of bombs. Their own figures show that less than one weapon has been dropped per (long) sortie. This isn’t an isolated example, and history demonstrates that HNS is very often not available where you really want it.  However, proponents of land based air power solutions sometimes simply deny that the problem exists. Back in 2014, the ASPI argued that: …the ADF would reasonably expect to be able to operate land-based aircraft from the country whose own defensive efforts Australia would be supporting, or with whom we could come under common attack… it’s prudent to assume that the [RAAF] would have access to land bases … to make a contribution to a future coalition air campaign… Two years on, we might conclude that while the ADF certainly has access to land bases, they certainly aren’t in the right place. Other arguments are deployed in an attempt to make the HNS issue go away. One recent post asked  ‘how often (would) the Australian government … want to bomb countries that the neighbours of that country do not wish to be bombed’? With respect, that’s a good example of ‘situating the appreciation’ – asking the question you want to answer. The question could be framed as:  ‘why might countries deny us HNS?’ and there’s a long list of answers to that one.  The first is the obvious one – they don’t want us to bomb their next-door neighbour. (Or their co-religionist.) But history provides us with lots of examples why a country might want a neighbouring country to be bombed, but might still refuse HNS. They might not want to be seen to be involved. They might not want it bombed by you, because they disagree with you over something else. They might have an election coming, and they might have an issue with a certain segment of their population that shares certain cultural values with the country you want to bomb. They might offer HNS, but with strings, such as only for only for AAR sorties, not actual strike missions. Countries that you don’t even want HNS from may deny you overflight. In my view, any debate over the utility of carrier-based aviation should look at the evidence offered by history. The ability to forgo HNS issues and locate a meaningful force of aircraft at a time and place of a country’s own choosing is precious and useful.  Maritime nations that possess such capabilities use them, all the time, all over the world. (Every enemy aircraft shot down in air combat by the UK since the end of WW2 has fallen to a carrier-based aircraft.) I suggest that Australia, by reason of basic geography, is a ‘maritime nation’. Of course, others may differ. The Cost So, what about the cost aspect? Nobody suggests that putting F-35Bs on to LHDs would be a cost-free exercise. Various improbable figures have been put forward, many resting on an assertion that this would be a risky technical enterprise, with many unanswered questions. The USMC’s recent successful trial of their ‘Lightning Carrier’ concept on board USS America, as noted by FLTLT Higgins, must surely lay many of these concerns to rest. The Canberra-class LHD was designed to accommodate 12 F-35Bs. That ski jump is a valuable (and currently unused) asset.  Perhaps the costs of putting the F-35B to sea should be re-examined. An F-35B takes off from the flight deck of USS America during the Lightning Carrier Proof of Concept Demonstration. [Image Credit: US Marine Corps] Some argue that any additional expenditure within the current national defence budget must by definition displace an existing capability. Not necessarily. If you have a fixed budget and want to do so something additional, you can increase the budget, or you can stop doing something that you’re already doing. Or, you can do something you’re already doing in a different way. Strategy, priorities and politics drive the choices. Of course, once a service (for example the RAAF) has its desired equipment programme (a substantial F-35A buy), it’s easy to argue that anything else is unaffordable. But if we are to talk costs it might be interesting to get better visibility of the actual costs of the ADF’s current long-distance air support operations. Spending around 10 hours in the air for each weapon dropped (from ADF figures) to ‘take out’ a pick up truck fitted with a cannon cannot, in my view, be an economically sustainable form of war. AAR tankers deliver huge amounts of fuel – but they also consume large amounts themselves, and frequently have to dump unused fuel to land back at base. Apart from the colossal fuel bill, these flying hours are generating huge aircraft support costs in manpower, parts and repairs. They will also be consuming the (fixed) service lives of the aircraft. Have these sums been done? A counter-argument recently advanced is that the ‘substantial’ additional cost to the RAAF of getting pilots trained to fly at sea (described as a ‘non-combat’ skill) could only be met by losing or degrading an existing RAAF aircrew ‘combat skill’.  In the first place, carrier deck training isn’t a ‘non-combat skill’. Ships and their air groups go into combat. Such training delivers a combat capability – delivery of high tempo operations from a mobile sovereign base. Describing it as a ‘non-combat‘ skill illustrates a profound misunderstanding of how maritime air power is generated. But automatically assuming that learning to operate from a ship would result in a ‘loss in combat-related training across the RAAF’s air combat capability’ or a ‘decrease in proficiency’ is, in my view, another example of ‘situating the appreciation’. I’m sure that RAAF pilot training constantly gets adjusted to meet changing requirements and to field new equipment. If the Government decided to go for F-35B, the training would be part of the cost. How big might that cost be? It would be substantial if the objective were a full ‘cat and trap’ or ‘STOBAR’ capability, where getting aircraft back on board takes high-end pilot skill levels, and executing a high tempo flying programme from a small deck area requires a well trained and thoroughly worked up ship. However, F-35B has been specifically designed to provide low workload launch and recovery to small flight decks. F-35B operations will require a much (much) smaller training ‘delta’ for aircrew than either ‘cat and trap’ or legacy STOVL aircraft. The LHDs will already have to work up a core capability to operate their current complement of aircraft – F-35B ops would be another small ‘delta’. Survivability of the ADF Fleet There is also the issue of defending a deployed ADF fleet. With China and India fielding capable ship-based combat aircraft, the issue of how to defend the fleet against air attack must be considered. F-35B would offer a hugely capable air defence capability in addition to its strike role, but the idea has attracted some passionate opposition. One (somewhat novel) argument put forward against the F-35 in this role is that that putting a potent air defence capability on the LHDs would invite an air attack on the LHD that otherwise wouldn’t happen. It’s further argued that it would be less risky to rely on missile defences to provide ‘air denial’ immediately around the fleet, relying on the new Air Warfare Destroyer (AWD). (Strangely, an AWD would apparently not attract attack in the same way that an F-35B equipped LHD would.) Actually, this is a hugely risky strategy. It’s been tried and it usually fails. In my view, this is wholly flawed thinking. What if the foe wants to shadow your fleet at or beyond your missile range? Or wants to attack a fleet asset other than the LHD? Or wants to attack the LHD because it’s already your capital ship, and the biggest (easiest) target? Or wants to attack you because you have no defences? I’m no expert on air power terminology, but aiming for basic air denial over the airspace immediately above your own fleet looks to be rather a long way down the capability scale – it’s only just above ‘air incapability’. I think you’d probably want at least air parity over the whole fleet, but I’m happy to be corrected. (I note that air power proponents have no difficulty in making the case for land-based air defence aircraft to provide air supremacy for land-based operations.) I’d be interested to know how the ADF plans to use land based F-35As to provide air defence for the surface fleet. Those iron laws of distance and time haven’t changed since the UK’s Royal Navy was supposed to be defended by RAF Phantoms in the 1970s. It didn’t work then and it’s unlikely to work now, unless the RAN is planning on staying very close to the mainland. Technical Issues Two years on from my previous assessment, it’s clear to any impartial observer that the US has put a massive effort into getting the F-35B cleared and capable from decks and ships that are comparable in size and capability to the RAN’s LHDs. Along the way, many myths and misconceptions have been laid to rest. The flight decks don’t melt. The gear around the flight deck doesn’t fall apart under jet blast. People don’t get blown away by the jet blast. The aircraft can happily perform ski jump launches. It can be supported at sea, and can safely take off and land from small decks. The aircraft software works, although there’s still much to do. In a nutshell, there are now very few issues with the F-35B that aren’t shared by the F-35A and which aren’t being solved. The capability of the aircraft is clearly a huge step on from first-generation STOVL aircraft such as Harrier. In combat evaluation, the aircraft is showing what its massive situational awareness, and data collection and handling capability can bring to the fight. Imagine what such a platform could do when linked up with modern ship mounted radars and sensors to build a truly integrated intelligence, air defence and strike system. Conclusion Countries’ defence plans are always changing in response to circumstances and external developments. In my view, the ADF’s intended area of operations, which is largely maritime in nature, will become a far less certain place in the years to come. Again, just my view, but previous assumptions on the availability of HNS will have to be reviewed along with existing plans for deployments of a purely land-based F-35A force. The F-35 will deliver a ‘game changing’ capability for the ADF. Surely, as F-35B equipped US LHAs and LHDs (and possibly the UK’s Queen Elizabeth-class carriers) become increasingly common visitors to the China/Pacific region, the ADF will have to look again at how it might develop an ability to more freely deploy its main striking force at long range. Or how it might protect its surface forces against developing air threats. When those reviews take place, it is to be hoped that objective and honest analysis prevails over single service interests. There’s too much at stake. Steve George was an air engineer officer in the Royal Navy for 28 years, and served in HMS Invincible during the 1982 Falklands operation. During his career, he was closely involved with the Sea Harrier, and also with joint RN/RAF Harrier operations. Retiring from the RN as a commander, he joined the JSF programme to work on F-35B ship suitability. He is now an engineering consultant. #strikeoperations #aircraftcarriers #AirPower #HostNationSupport #OKRA #F35B #LHD

Australia’s 2016 Defence White Paper detailed the government’s intention to acquire armed unmanned aircraft within the next decade. A paper titled A New Direction for Australian Air Power: Armed Unmanned Aircraft, commissioned by the chief of air force, Air Marshal Leo Davies, and written by Dr Peter Layton, examines the key issues surrounding this often contentious issue. The essay’s centrepiece is its “Ten Propositions Concerning Armed UAVs”. UAVs have been around for decades, but it was only after their innovative use during the Israeli Air Force’s brilliant campaign in the Bekaa Valley in 1982 that their potential began to be taken seriously by many defence forces. Since then, their rise has been both spectacular and irresistible. Today, they are an indispensable element of any advanced defence force’s information gathering and dissemination capability, for tactical, operational, and strategic purposes. Equally as significant but far more controversial has been the rapid growth of armed UAVs. In the current war against Islamic State, for example, more than one-third of the US Air Force’s land strike missions are being conducted by armed unmanned aircraft. This trend, which will only increase, represents nothing less than a radical change in how military organisations apply force in general and air power in particular. The use of armed UAVs has generated widespread concerns over the apparent removal of people from the field of combat, the so-called “rise of the robots”, and ethical and legal matters. Dr Layton’s informed and measured analysis addresses these concerns, and succeeds admirably in his objective of dispelling myths and resolving confusion. As noted, the essay is structured around its “ten propositions”. This approach, previously employed by the distinguished American air power scholar Dr Phillip Meilinger in his booklet 10 Propositions Regarding Air Power (Air Force History and Museums Program: Washington, 1995), facilitates a clear and accessible presentation. In the context of the current debate over the use of armed UAVs, three of the propositions seem especially important to this reviewer. The first is that armed UAVs can be employed ethically. Layton examines the character of war as it is “traditionally understood”, that understanding having been strongly influenced by the work of the 19th century Prussian soldier-scholar, Carl von Clausewitz. Abstract notions such as what war is or is not, honour in war, and the nature of risk, are all discussed. Perhaps Layton’s most telling observation is that “seeking to share risk in some even-handed manner unethically imperils one’s own forces … there is no morally compelling reason to make one’s own forces as vulnerable as an opponent’s”. To paraphrase the British man of letters Hilaire Belloc: Whatever happens, we have got [Armed UAVs], and they have not The second key proposition is that armed UAVs have been developed to meet the law of armed conflict. Some of the criticism of UAVs has bordered on the irrational because, as Layton points out, the law of armed conflict governs their use just as much as it does any battlefield weapon system. The fact is, UAV technology has evolved in a manner that is entirely compatible with the four core LoAC principles of discrimination, military necessity, (avoiding) unnecessary suffering, and proportionality. Indeed, UAVs’ long loiter times, high resolution sensors and precision weapons, and the access their operators have to real-time intelligence and legal advice arguably enable a superior compliance with LoAC than is the case for most other weapons systems. Third and last, Dr Layton argues that while the platforms may be unmanned, they are (remotely) controlled by a large distributed crew with diverse skills. That crew can include pilots, sensor operators, intelligence analysts, legal advisors, ethicists, weapons specialists, and so on. As he states, “an armed UAV mission represents an operations-intelligence fusion that manned aircraft cannot easily match”. His comparison could be extended to just about any other weapons system, “manned” or otherwise. The remaining seven propositions are as follows: that UAVs bring greater persistence to the application of air power; are one part of a much larger system; offer new ways of providing close air attack to ground forces; offer new ways of conducting interdiction operations; provide unsurpassed deployment options; are best suited for operations in areas where defences are limited or suppressed; and are a complement to manned aircraft. In a sense, the question over the future of armed UAVs has been answered. Their continuing and rapid growth within the inventories of advanced defence forces is evidence that the jury is in. At the same time, it is essential that political and military leaders who wish to exploit this technology in the interests of national security should bring their wider communities forward with them. They could do no better than to inform themselves and their constituencies with this intelligent, well-written booklet. See Dr Peter Layton, A New Direction for Australian Air Power: Armed Unmanned Aircraft (Air Power Development Centre: Canberra, 2016, 40 pp). Dr Alan Stephens is a fellow of the Sir Richard Williams Foundation #RAAF #ArmedUAVs #LawofArmedConflict #Decapitation #UAV #2016DefenceWhitePaper