Train Like You Fight

The Captain set the message down after reading it to the officers assembled in the wardroom.  Setting aside all the navalese language, it directed him and his Burke class destroyer to divert from their current assignment, take aboard some observers, which they had already done, and transit to the Navy’s new live fire training area located well off the west coast of the United States and engage with live weapons – he had read that part to his officers with an incredulous voice - any valid target detected.  The Captain and his ship were about to be subjected to the Navy’s newest training exercise.  His would be only the second ship to undergo the training and he knew nothing about it;  scuttlebutt was non-existent.  Still, one Navy training exercise was like the next, he was sure.  He assumed he would be given detailed instructions – Navy training exercises were nothing if not highly scripted.  Oddly, though, he had been directed to choose his own course, time and speed to enter the training area and been told only to enter the area by a certain date/time and remain in the area until specifically notified that training was over.  He had no idea how long the training would last.  He assumed that it would be a few hours based on previous exercises.
 
“All right, gentlemen, here’s what we’re going to do.  We’ll be entering the training area in about one hour.  I want to complete this exercise in a timely fashion and set the standard for the ships that follow.  We’ll go to General Quarters when we enter the area.  I expect we’ll receive detailed instructions at that point.  Let’s make sure all our systems are ready and let’s have our best people in place. Questions?”
 
“Captain, that’s not a lot of time to run system checks,” the XO pointed out.
 
“I know it, XO.  Make it happen anyway!”
 
Acknowledging the Captain, the XO grimaced inwardly.  No amount of desire or enthusiasm was going to get some of those Aegis computer system spare parts installed that the ship didn’t have on board and had been on order for almost six months.  Similarly, the CIWS which had been spontaneously resetting on occasion during checks wasn’t going to be miraculously fixed in the next hour.  Still, he’d do everything he could.
 
Unnoticed, or rather ignored, the observer in the back of the room made a quick note on his clipboard of documents.  The Captain thought the training exercise wouldn’t begin for another hour but it had actually begun the moment he had received the notification message and, so far, the Captain wasn’t doing well.
 
An hour later, the ship entered the training area.  The ship was at GQ and the best sailors were in place at each critical post.  The Captain waited impatiently in CIC for his instructions.  The observer simply stood quietly in the background, making an occasional note.  As time passed with no additional instructions forthcoming, the Captain’s impatience grew.  After an hour, the Captain radioed for instructions.  The reply was short and succinct – “continue training”.  What training, the Captain wondered sarcastically?
 
All right, the Captain thought, someone is trying to screw with the normal training procedures.  Well, he wasn’t about to be caught flatfooted.
 
“Listen up, people.  We’re going to stay at GQ until whoever’s running this exercise gets their act together.  We’re not going to relax and get caught by surprise.  Let’s stay on top of things.”
 
Nine hours later, the Captain and crew were exhausted and frustrated by the complete lack of activity.  Nothing had happened.  True, sonar had generated their usual litany of non-specific contacts that had been aggressively pursued only to vanish – biologics, probably.  The ship’s helo was now down for maintenance after spending the last several hours chasing spurious contact reports.  Utterly disgusted at the wasted time, the Captain finally decided to call it quits for the day.  Whoever was running this exercise had obviously screwed up badly and he’d attempt to sort things out tomorrow.  With that, the ship secured from General Quarters. 
 
“XO”, the Captain called out, “get that CIWS torn down tonight and figure out what’s wrong before we try this exercise again tomorrow.”
 
Again, unseen, the observer’s mouth twitched in what might have been a small grin.
 
Three hours later, with most of the crew having just settled in for some much needed rest and with the ‘third string’ manning the watch stations, the ship was ripped awake by the sound of the General Quarters call.  Staggering to his feet, the Captain ran to CIC.
 
“Report,” he yelled as he entered.
 
“We’ve got an unidentified contact inbound bearing 265 relative, 20 miles out, speed Mach 1.3.  It’s right down on the waves.  Collision course.  Impact in just over 1 minute.”
 
“ESM indicates it’s a Russian SS-N-22 Sunburn.”
 
A target drone, the Captain assumed.  “Put the CIWS on it,” he shouted.
 
“CIWS is down for repairs per your orders, sir.”
 
“Well, get it back up”, the Captain yelled, frantically!
 
Unfortunately, there was no time.  The missile was approaching at over 16 miles per minute and impact was now less than 30 seconds.
 
“What’s going on?”, the Captain yelled to no one in particular.  “This is supposed to be training but that thing is going to hit us!”
 
At that moment, 1 mile out, the drone missile pulled up, angled just over the top of the destroyer, and passed overhead with a shattering boom.  The CIC watchstanders were shaken while cups, papers, tools, and other items were knocked onto the deck.
 
“What the hell was that?”, the Captain again asked of no one.  “That wasn’t training.  That was a reckless safety violation!  Someone’s going to pay for that.”
 
The Captain immediately sent out an urgent message demanding to know who had screwed up a simple training exercise.  The instant reply was, “Continue training.”
 
The Captain had no time to wonder before his thoughts were again rudely interrupted.
 
“Multiple airborne contacts bearing 135 relative, 78 miles, speed 480 kts.  They’ll pass about 10 miles off our starboard side if they continue on course.  No emissions but they’re squawking civilian.”
 
“Let ‘em come”, the Captain replied.  “This is a test and I’m not going to Vincennes them.”
 
The Captain was all too aware of the Vincennes incident where an Aegis cruiser had badly misinterpreted its sensor data and shot down a civilian airliner in the belief that it was an attacking aircraft.  That incident had become part of Navy institutional memory and it was ingrained in every Captain never to repeat that event.
 
In the background, the observer frowned slightly and made more notes.
 
Minutes passed as the aircraft got closer and then came the half-expected announcement.
 
“Surface contact, bearing 334 relative, 21 miles, speed 24 kts.  Contact is coming straight at us.”
 
“There”, the Captain said, a note of triumph in his voice, “That’s the real target.  They were hoping we’d focus on the aircraft and miss the real threat coming from the surface.”
 
“Weapons, put a couple SM-6 missiles on that surface ship.”
 
Lacking Harpoons or the recently canceled LRASM, Standard missiles were the only anti-ship weapon available.
 
“Captain, we don’t have a positive ID on the target, yet.  There are no emissions and we don’t have a visual.”
 
“It’s the real threat”, the Captain answered. “They tried to fool us.  Designate and launch.”
 
Unprepared for the command, inexperienced, and inadequately trained, the ‘third string’ operators took over two minutes to designate the target, prep the launch cycle, and execute the launch.  Moments after the two missiles launched, the EO sensor operator announced that he had a visual on the target.
 
“Sir, it appears to be a civilian yacht of some sort!”
 
The Captain blanched.  Had he just executed a Vincennes on a civilian yacht that had wandered into the training area?
 
“Direct hit.  The target is gone.”
 
“Stand down”, the Captain frantically yelled.  “Secure all weapons.”
 
The observer shook his head minutely and made another note.
 
Suddenly, the Captain heard another announcement. 
 
“New targets inbound.  Bearing 110 degrees relative, speed Mach 0.8, altitude 20 meters.  They appear to be missiles launched from the civilian aircraft.”
 
The Captain was dumbfounded and froze.  He had been certain the aircraft were civilian, trying to fool him into doing a Vincennes.  Instead, it appeared that they were the real threat and had been from the start.  All the ship’s weapons were in standby and there was nothing available to defend.
 
Even more stunning, the incoming missiles (target drones, he assumed) did not turn away.  Instead, at the last moment, each elevated slightly, separated a small, inert, frangible ‘warhead’, and passed closely directly over the ship.  As they did, he felt several thuds as the inert ‘warheads’ impacted the ship. 
 
“What was that?”, he called frantically.  “Did we just get hit by a target drone?”
 
Before he could get an answer, another contact report came.
 
“Torpedoes inbound.  Range one mile.  Speed 55 kts.”
 
“What?!  How did torpedoes get so close without being detected?”, he yelled.
 
The third string sonar operator, who was still trying to get qualified, was unable to answer before more reports started flooding in.
 
“Damage Control reports several fires.  Smoke spreading throughout the ship.”
 
The various observers scattered throughout the ship had designated areas as hit and on fire and, in addition, had ignited multiple smoke bombs.  They couldn’t start actual fires but they could replicate the smoke that would be filling the ship if this had been real.
 
“Aircraft are turning and re-engaging.”
 
“Turn to unmask the CIWS”, the Captain yelled, forgetting that the CIWS was down and coughing as smoke from an adjoining compartment began filling the space.
 
The ship began to turn to bring the single CIWS to bear on the aircraft’s threat vector but part way through the turn the Captain corrected himself.
 
“No, wait.  We need to run from the torpedoes.  They’re the bigger threat!  Put us on the same course as the torpedoes.”
 
Part way through the turn, the Captain again corrected himself.  “Wait, it’s too late.  We can’t outrun the torpedoes.  They’re already too close.  Unmask the CIWS!”, he yelled, his voice rising in pitch.  It was too much.  He was being overwhelmed with information and threats.
 
Moments later he felt the impact as four inert torpedoes slammed into the hull.
 
“Radar is down.”  An observer had directed the operator to shut down the radar to simulate damage.
 
“Damage Control reports at least four underwater impacts and one leak from a cracked hull plate.”
 
The leak was substantial and real.  The torpedo warheads were inert but the lightly built Burkes could not absorb even an inert warhead impacting at 55 kts.  The damage control reports were confused, panicked, inaccurate, and real.
 
With that, the power flickered and cut out.  One emergency light came on and two others did not.  An observer had disabled them prior to the exercise to see if anyone could repair them.  As it turned out, no one even tried.
 
And so the exercise continued with the ship’s condition and the crew’s performance rapidly deteriorating.  The scheduled debrief was going to be brutal.  The Admiral in charge of this training program had directed the observers to be unfailingly objective and to spare no feelings.  No one had expected the exercise to go well but this was poor even by that standard.  Still, considering that the Navy had not conducted realistic training for decades, it wasn’t surprising. 
 
The ship now had several dents from the various inert ‘warhead’ impacts and a handful of minor damage to repair but that was an acceptable part of achieving combat readiness and the forced drydocking would be used to accomplish various equipment undates and long deferred maintenance.
 
Painful as it might be, this was the first step in returning the Navy to an actual warfighting organization.
 
Forty eight hours later, after a continuing series of very realistic events and with an exhausted crew staggering through actual damage control efforts, the exercise concluded and the lead observer completed his final on-board paperwork;  a full report would come later.  The last two questions on his checklist were the most important.  The first concerned the ship’s combat readiness, which the observer unhesitatingly checked as ‘Not Ready’.  The second asked for his recommendation on the Captain’s fitness for continued command.  The observer sadly shook his head slightly and checked ‘Unfit’.  The current Captain would take the ship into drydock but someone else would be taking it back out.  As much as this exercise had been a training and readiness test, it had also been a combat mentality assessment of the Captain and he had failed, badly.
 
 
 
Discussion Points
 
-We need to allow a mild degree of risk and physical damage In our training through the use of inert or frangible warheads.  Military service does not come with a guarantee of safety.  As a point of historical interest, pre-WWII training saw the use of bags of flour dropped on ships as surrogates for bombs.  Once upon a time, Infantry training used live machine gun fire as an incentive to keep one’s head down.
 
-Training needs to be unscripted.
 
-Training needs to be continuous and prolonged.
 
-Training needs to be realistic.
 
-There needs to be negative consequences for poor performance in training while recognizing that training is the time to make mistakes and must be consequence free.  In other words, we need to distinguish between correctable mistakes and uncorrectable poor performance (lack of combat mentality).