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Dr Alan Stephens 'On Target: The Greatest Lost Battle on the German Side: The RAAF in Bomber Command' in Australian Aviation June 2018 p. 109 Street names at the Australian Defence Force Academy honour notable wartime actions. While every one of those actions was a matter of life or death for the men involved, when measured against the broader sweep of history some scarcely merit the description “battle”. It might seem curious, therefore, that three of the greatest battles in which Australians have fought are not acknowledged. Those three battles all took place in the skies over Germany during World War II and were fought by the men of the RAF’s Bomber Command, some 11,500 of whom were members of the RAAF. The first was the Battle of the Ruhr from March to July 1943, the second the Battle of Hamburg from 24 July to 3 August 1943, and the third the Battle of Berlin from November 1943 to March 1944. Statistics can never tell a story by themselves, but the figures from those three epic clashes reveal a fearful truth. No Bomber Command aircrew who fought in them could expect to survive. An operational tour on heavy bombers consisted of thirty missions. Crews were then rested for about six months, usually instructing at a training unit. (That ‘rest’ was, however, in name only, as more than 8000 men were killed in flying accidents at bomber conversion units.) They might then volunteer for, or be assigned to, a second operational tour of twenty missions. Over the course of the war the odds of surviving a first tour were exactly one-in-two – the classic toss of a coin. When the second tour was added the odds slipped further, to one-in-three. And during the battles of the Ruhr, Hamburg, and Berlin the figures became even more terrible, with the loss rates for each mission flown averaging 4.7 per cent, 2.8 per cent and 5.2 per cent respectively, making it statistically impossible to live through thirty missions. No other sustained campaign in which Australians have ever been involved can compare with the air war over Germany in terms of individual danger. The men of the RAAF who fought for Bomber Command amounted to less than 2 per cent of all Australians who enlisted in World War II, yet the 3486 who died accounted for almost 20 per cent of all deaths in combat. The RAAF’s most distinguished heavy bomber unit, No. 460 Squadron, alone lost 1018 aircrew, meaning that, in effect, the entire squadron was wiped out five times. It was far more dangerous to fight in Bomber Command than in the infantry. The argument is often made that the bombing of Germany was of limited military utility, and that it stiffened rather than undermined German morale. That argument is stronger in polemic than logic. According to the Nazis’ minister of war production, Albert Speer, following the Hamburg raids he “reported for the first time to the Fuehrer that if these serial attacks continued a rapid end of the war might be the consequence”. And the official United States Strategic Bombing Survey concluded in September 1945 that air power had been “decisive in the war in Western Europe ... It brought the [German] economy ... to virtual collapse”. As a direct result of allied bombing, during 1944, the Nazis’ production schedules for tanks, aircraft and trucks were reduced by 35 per cent, 31 per cent and 42 per cent respectively. Additionally, an enormous amount of resources which might have been used to equip front-line troops had to be diverted to air defence. By 1944, the anti-aircraft system was absorbing 20 per cent of all ammunition produced and between half to two-thirds of all radar and signals equipment. More than one million German troops were engaged in the air defence of the Reich, using about 74 per cent of all heavy weapons and 55 per cent of all automatic weapons. Physical destruction and the massive diversion of resources was accompanied by psychological demoralisation. Contrary to conventional wisdom that the bombing boosted morale, the sustained campaign had a crushing effect on people’s mental state. Post-war surveys found that workers became tired, highly-strung and listless. Absenteeism because of bombing reached 25 per cent in some factories in the Ruhr for the whole of 1944, a rate which drastically reduced output and undermined production schedules. When asked to identify the single most difficult thing they had to cope with during the war, 91 per cent of German civilians nominated bombing. The men of the RAAF who flew with Bomber Command made the major contribution of any Australians to the defeat of Germany and, therefore, to victory in World War II. They alone opened a second front in Germany, four years before D-Day; and they alone inflicted decisive damage on the German war economy. As Albert Speer later lamented, Bomber Command’s victory represented “the greatest lost battle on the German side”. Download pdf

Dr Alan Stephens 'On Target: Eighty to nil: Israel and the first networked air war' in Australian Aviation May 2018 p. 111 “Network-centric” warfare has become something of a cliché in advanced defence forces, especially for today’s “fifth-generation” era of capabilities. Put simply, the term implies knowledge dominance, real-time command and control, and the immediate provision of tactical information to the fighter who needs it now. The prototype was revealed by the Israeli Air Force overhead Syria’s Bekaa Valley during the First Lebanon War in 1982. The war started on 5/6 June when the Israel Defence Force invaded southern Lebanon. While the ground war was to end badly for all concerned, including the Israelis, the air war in the Bekaa Valley, site of the Damascus to Beirut highway, was a triumph for the Israeli Air Force. Network-centric operations were the key. As the aphorism has it, time spent on reconnaissance is never wasted. The IAF had been caught off-guard by its Egyptian and Syrian enemies in the October 1973 War, but this time it had done its homework. In addition to collecting information from fixed-wing reconnaissance flights and US satellite imagery, the IAF made skilful use of its new remotely piloted vehicles (RPV). In the months preceding the war, RPV flights into the Bekaa Valley were used to trigger Syrian air-defense radars, enabling the Israelis to plot the position of surface-to-air missile batteries and compile a library of electronic data from which countermeasures (such as jamming) could be constructed. Meticulous planning characterised every aspect of the IAF’s campaign. A pleasing feature for military strategists was the extensive use of deception. At around 2:00 pm on 9 June, Syrian radar operators detected large formations of enemy aircraft at various locations around Lebanon. Immediately, however, a blanket of electronic-countermeasures was thrown over Syria’s command and control network. More confusion was created by Israeli decoy RPVs, which panicked Syrian air defence operators into making wasted SAM launches. The opening strikes against Syria’s SAMs were made by some twenty-four F-4 Phantoms, launching television-guided high-explosive bombs from a range of thirty kilometres. With the Syrian system in disarray, the main IAF strike force of about forty aircraft arrived and attacked SAMs, AAA, radars, and headquarters buildings. Orbiting at a safe distance from the battlespace, E-2 Hawkeye AEW aircraft coordinated the many components of the IAF’s integrated force; while EW B-707s jammed command and control services. As soon as the attack had finished, the IAF flew battle-damage assessment missions to determine the results and, if necessary, redefine reference points for the next phase. The Syrians’ reaction was fascinating. Prior to the IAF strike, Syrian Arab Air Force fighters had been flying combat air patrols in the area. A customary response would have been to direct those pilots to engage the Israelis. Instead, they were ordered to withdraw, apparently with the intention of creating a free-fire zone in which Syria’s SAMs and AAA would be able to shoot at anything they saw without having to identify it. This decision indicated that the Syrian commanders either doubted their fighter pilots, or were confident in their ground-based air defences. If it were the latter then their confidence was misplaced. Within two hours, all SAM batteries had been either destroyed or badly damaged, and Syria’s strategy had been shattered. The question now was whether SyAAF fighters would be called-up to try to regain control of the air over the Bekaa Valley. Several factors indicated that they were likely to struggle. Israel’s fighter pilots were the equal of any in the world and were flying leading-edge F-15s and F-16s and very good Kfirs, armed with advanced air-to-air missiles. They were operating as one component of a networked system featuring centralised command and control, real-time battlespace management, ECM superiority, and information dominance. By contrast, the Syrians’ standards were modest, their MiG-21s and -23s were obsolescent, and they were effectively fighting blind because of the destruction of their early-warning radars and communications, and the inadequacies of their network. The air war was personally managed by the IAF’s chief, General David Ivri, from his command post in Tel Aviv, some 300 kilometres away. Although the IAF had about ninety aircraft committed to the fight, Ivri preferred to vector separate waves of four-ship formations into the combat zone, where engagements with courageous but confused Syrian pilots would generally last only a minute or two. While the battlespace may have been small, General Ivri and his staff managed an extremely complex situation with a degree of real-time control never before achieved in air warfare. Ivri later provided a neat musical analogy: rather than “playing” a set of individual instruments that more or less supported each other, he was “conducting” the full orchestra. By the end of the first day almost thirty SyAAF fighters had been shot-down for no IAF losses; by the time a cease-fire was called six days later, the ratio had increased to eighty to nil. The IAF had, among other things, shown air forces everywhere the power of networked warfare. Download pdf

The Requirements of High Intensity Warfare 22 March 2018 Final Report Dr Robbin Laird, Second Line of Defense, Final Report: The Strategic Shift from Counter-Insurgency and Stability Operations: High Tempo Ops, High Intensity Operations and Deterrence Since 2014, the Williams Foundation has held a series of seminars, which have looked at the nature of military transformation enabled by new platforms, new technologies and new approaches. Now, the Foundation is focusing on the new strategic context within which this force will operate and the kinds of further changes necessary for Australia and allied forces in facing the challenges posed by peer competitors. On March 22, 2018, the Williams Foundation hosted a seminar which began the process of examining these key questions. This report is based on that seminar. This enhanced version of the report includes the interviews conducted prior to, during and after the seminar. We have published on defense.info, a version with just the seminar report itself. A report overview can be viewed at Defense.info Download pdf

Dr Alan Stephens 'On Target: Powerful friends: Surviving high-intensity warfare' in Australian Aviation April 2018 p. 114 It was the 19th century British prime minister, Lord Palmerston, who famously remarked that in international relations there are “no eternal allies … only interests”. Palmerston’s hard-headed world view has particular relevance for small- and medium-nations that find themselves drawn into high-intensity warfare. The October 1973 war in the Middle East and the 1982 war in the Falklands illustrate the point. The 1973 war began on 6 October when Egypt and Syria launched a sudden attack against Israel. Over-confident Israeli commanders were shocked when their previously dominant air force found itself unprepared for the quality and tactical disposition of the Arabs’ ground-based air defence system. The IAF started the war with about 290 frontline F-4 and A-4 strike/fighters and within days some fifty had been shot-down. It was an unsustainable loss rate. A week later, as the war in the air began to turn and the Israelis started to assert their expected dominance, it was the Arabs’ turn to experience unsustainable losses. Now, both protagonists faced the same urgent problem: neither had the reserves nor the local capacity to rapidly reinforce their fighting units. There is a limit to how much a nation can spend on otherwise non-productive war industries and stockpiles. Governments have to make fine judgments regarding how many weapons – which represent stranded assets until they are used – they can afford to have parked on ramps or stored in warehouses against the possibility of a contingency that might never arise. That economic imperative is especially pronounced in the war in the air, in which platforms and weapons are exceedingly expensive. And in high-intensity fighting, extreme unit costs are accompanied by extreme loss and usage rates. Thus, during the nineteen days of the October War, the Israelis lost 102 strike/fighters and the Arabs 433, and the Arabs fired 9000 surface-to-air missiles. Those numbers alone amounted to thirty aircraft and $560 million per day. What that meant was that neither the Israelis nor the Arabs was capable of fighting a high-intensity air war for more than about a week without direct assistance from their American and Soviet sponsors. And that’s precisely what happened. On 9 October, the Soviets started a massive airlift to resupply the Egyptians and Syrians with missiles, ammunition, SAM components, radars, and much more; shortly afterwards, the US did the same for Israel. The US also made good the IAF’s aircraft losses by flying-in about 100 F-4s, A-4s and C-130s, some of which arrived still carrying USAF markings. Without that resupply, Israel and the Arab states could not have sustained such a high-intensity conflict. This point bears emphasis. Israel was far superior militarily to the Arab states, and its excellent indigenous industry enabled it to develop important capabilities (such as electronic warfare counter-measures) during the conflict. Nevertheless, it is not unreasonable to suggest that, had Egypt and Syria been resupplied and Israel had not, the war would have ended differently. Sustainment in the form of aid from an external source was again crucial during the 1982 Falklands War between the United Kingdom and Argentina. The UK’s armed forces are among the world’s very best, and the nation is one of the world’s wealthiest and most powerful. Argentina in 1982 was a dysfunctional, second-world nation led by an incompetent cabal of military dictators. Yet, according to both the key foreign affairs advisor to prime minister Margaret Thatcher, Lord Charles Powell, and the assistant US defense secretary, Richard Perle, “Britain probably would have lost the war without American assistance”. That assistance extended to providing vital intelligence, and to “stripping part of the frontline US air forces” of the latest version of the Sidewinder air-to-air missile. Argentina, by contrast, found itself the dismayed subject of Lord Palmerston’s unsentimental definition of alliances, when it was abandoned by two nations which, until the day the shooting started, it had believed were its friends. The first, the US, cut-off intelligence and diplomatic assistance; and the second, France, which had sold the Argentine Navy Super-Etendard strike fighters and Exocet missiles, withdrew the technical support needed to make that capability fully effective. In the event, the Argentines managed to fire five Exocets, sinking two ships from the British war convoy as it approached the Falklands, and severely damaging a third. It is feasible that, with better targeting information and only a half-dozen more operational missiles, the Argentines might have inflicted sufficient damage on the convoy to have compelled it to turn back before it got within 100 kilometres of the Falklands. Should Australia become involved in a high-intensity conflict in the next ten years, we can confidently expect that our air power would be well-trained and well-equipped. Those attributes would be insufficient in themselves, however, if they were not under-written by a strong and reliable alliance. Download pdf

Dr Alan Stephens 'On Target: Disrupting air supremacy: Emerging technologies threaten the West’s command of the air' in Australian Aviation, March 2018 p. 109 Air supremacy has been the essential start-point of every Western-led military campaign from the end of World War II up to today. The West’s politicians and generals have been safe in assuming that their armies and navies would be able to operate free from enemy air attack, and that their own air forces would exploit the skies to apply overwhelming force, gather information, rapidly resupply, and so on. The West’s model of air supremacy has been founded on the classic “dog-fighting” approach to aerial combat, in which superior pilots equipped with superior platforms, information, weapons, and command and control systems, have dominated their enemies. It seems possible, however, that a combination of emerging strike technologies and the spread of advanced ground-based air defence systems could disrupt that model. Emerging strike technologies include long-range threats, typified by North Korea’s nuclear-armed intercontinental missiles (whose speed of development has caught US analysts off-guard); while short-range threats are typified by swarms of hundreds of drones, whose inherent characteristics - cheap, minimal infrastructure, “pop-up” from anywhere, sheer numbers, variety of weapons, etc - will pose novel challenges to a model based on pilots who cost $10 million each to train and who fly strike/fighters that cost $100 million each to build. Turning to the spread of advanced GBAD, Russia reportedly is prepared to export its S-400 “Triumf” surface-to-air missile system, with Turkey and Saudi Arabia as potential customers; while Israel may sell its anti-rocket Iron Dome system to the Saudis. Tactical innovation will be critical in countering these disruptive threats. Although Western fighter pilots have shot-down a handful of unmanned aerial vehicles in the Middle East, it is early days in the fight against drones, and a great deal more thinking on the subject is required. GBAD systems, by contrast, have been around for over a century, ranging from the anti-aircraft batteries of World War I to the S-400 in Syria today. Some of the more interesting tactical thinking within this domain occurred during the October 1973 war between Egypt and Syria, and Israel. Arab air power had been utterly crushed by the Israeli Air force during the 1967 Six-Day War. Egyptian and Syrian planners consequently decided that in any future conflict they would try to fight the IAF on their terms, rather than the Israelis’. Specifically, this meant avoiding air-to-air engagements and instead relying on GBAD. In the interval between 1967 and 1973, the Egyptians constructed a radar-, missile- and gun-based defensive system along the Suez Canal-Cairo axis, while the Syrians did the same in the Golan Heights. Constructed with Soviet help and incorporating advanced SA-6 and -7 missiles and rapid-firing ZSU-23-4 AAA, those defensive barriers were as intense as any in the world. The war began on 6 October when Egypt and Syria launched a sudden attack against Israel, catching their over-confident enemy off-guard. Israeli commanders were shocked when their previously dominant Air Force found itself unprepared for the quality and tactical disposition of the Arabs’ GBAD. The IAF started the war with 290 frontline F-4 and A-4 strike/fighters; within days, some fifty had been shot-down. It was an unsustainable loss rate. Unable to breach the GBAD, the IAF was in serious trouble. Unexpectedly, the breakthrough in the critical battle to control the air overhead the Suez Canal came not from fighter pilots, but from tank crews and infantry. Prior to the war, Egypt’s generals had (sensibly) concluded that their ground forces should not move beyond the protective umbrella of their GBAD. However, excited by early success, they decided to extend their army’s advance. It was the worst tactical decision of the war. Lacking control of the air, the Egyptian Army was exposed to the classic Israeli combination of fast-moving armour, infantry, and attack aircraft, and rapidly lost the initiative. On 15 October, by-now charging Israeli armoured formations and paratroopers crossed the Suez Canal into Egypt, where they destroyed scores of SAM and AAA sites, thus opening-up a gap in the GBAD system through which the IAF could operate safely. In other words, the Israeli Army had established control of the air. The notion that land forces can win control of the air should not be surprising. In World War II, Allied armies did precisely that as they rolled-up scores of Luftwaffe air bases and air defence systems during their march from France and the USSR into Germany; while during the American war in Vietnam, Viet Cong soldiers (who never even had an air force) regularly asserted local control of the air for specific periods using heavy machine guns and medium AAA. The point to take away here is less about October 1973, and more about alternative thinking in the face of disruptive threats. Download pdf

On 21 March the Williams Foundation was proud to welcome Dr Robbin Laird as a Williams Foundation Fellow. The Board thanks Dr Laird for his continued contribution to the core goal of the Williams Foundation; to promote the development and effective implementation of national security and defense policies as they impact on Australia’s ability to generate air power appropriate to its unique geopolitical environment and values. The Board and members of the Foundation greatly value the support Dr Laird has provided in the past and looks forward to continuing your involvement in future Williams Foundation programs. For bios of our Research Fellows, AVM John Blackburn AO (Retd), Dr Alan Stephens and Dr Robbin Laird visit our webpage. Also see link Second Line of Defence

Welcome to 2018! As forecast in our 2017 wrap-up post, The Central Blue is collaborating with From Balloons to Drones on a series of posts on high intensity warfare, ahead of a Sir Richard Williams Foundation seminar on ‘The Requirements of High Intensity Warfare’ on 22 March 2018. Keen to get involved? Read on… Since the end of the Cold War, the West’s militaries have been engaged in a series of protracted and persistent low-intensity counterinsurgency campaigns. For air forces, this has broadly meant involvement in campaigns where there have been few serious challenges to control of the air and air dominance was assumed. However, as we move further into the twenty-first century, that scenario is likely to change with the likelihood of peer-on-peer high-intensity conflict increasing. In such conflicts, air dominance will have to be fought for, and maintained, to utilise the full spectrum of capabilities afforded by the exploitation of the air domain. As such, The Central Blue and From Balloons to Drones seeks to commission a series of articles that examine critical themes related to the challenge of preparing modern air forces for the possibility of high-intensity conflict as they transform into fifth-generation forces. As well as informing broader discussions on the future of conflict, these articles will provide the intellectual underpinnings for a Williams Foundation seminar on the subject of the requirements of high-intensity conflict to be held in Canberra, Australia in March 2018. The editors seek contributions that provide a variety of perspectives on the following key themes: Strategy and Theory | Future Roles | Emerging Threats Air Force Culture | Force Structure | Technology and Capabilities Ethical and Moral Challenges | Doctrinal Trends | Education | Training Articles can range from historical discussions of the above themes through to contemporary perspectives. Perspectives can also come from a number of related disciplines including history, strategic studies, international relations, law, and ethics. Articles framed around one of the above themes should be 1000-2000 words. Submissions should be submitted in Word format and emailed to the addresses below with ‘SUBMISSION – HIGH-INTENSITY WARFARE’ in the subject line. Also, please include a 50-100-word biography with your submission. Please be careful to explain any jargon. Publication will be entirely at the discretion of the editors. These articles will be published from mid-February and will appear on the websites of The Central Blue and From Balloons to Drones simultaneously. For more information, please contact Wing Commander Travis Hallen (Co-editor, The Central Blue – centralblue@williamsfoundation.org.au) or Dr Ross Mahoney (Editor, From Balloons to Drones – airpowerstudies@gmail.com). #futureconcepts #futurewarfare #AirPower #technology #highintensity #AirForce

Brian Weston 'On Target 'Function over Geography: The End of Area Commands: Combat Power through Organisation – Part 2' in Australian Aviation November 2017 p.2 The October On Target column in Australian Aviation discussed the importance of organisation as a discriminating factor between the combat power of air forces and outlined the evolution of RAAF organisational policy up until the end of World War II. The column noted the introduction of the operational air group structure by the RAAF, in the South-West Pacific theatre, as a seminal step in the evolution of Australian air power. Following the conclusion of World War II, it was therefore not surprising the RAAF included the notion of an operational air group in its post-war plan; comprising a force of 16 squadrons organised into five “home defence” area commands and a “mobile air task force” comprising fighter, bomber and transport wings, a reconnaissance squadron, an operational wing headquarters and organic maintenance support. But with government prioritising a massive post-war demobilization which saw the RAAF downsize from 191,337 personnel in August 1945, to 7,897 personnel at the end of 1948, the RAAF had neither the resources nor personnel to implement its plans. The RAAF mobile air task force remained unfunded and the organisational concept of five area commands became the basis of post-war air force organisation. In 1952, the RAAF signalled a small departure from its RAF heritage by designating its “stations” as “bases”, stations being an RAF term. But subsequently, and perhaps with a touch of irony, it was an RAF officer who went on to implement fundamental change in RAAF post-war organisation. Air Marshal Sir Donald Hardman, an RAF officer of high regard, was appointed Chief of Air Staff of the RAAF following the 12 year tenure of Sir George Jones, and it was Hardman who set about organising the RAAF on a functional basis, rather than on a geographic basis; the change taking place on 1 October 1953. The changes, which coincided with the abolition of Air Force Headquarters and the establishment of the Department of Air ‒ a Department of State of the Commonwealth ‒ saw the five area commands folded into a Home Command under one commander. Two further functional commands were established: Training Command and Maintenance Command which were soon merged into a single command: Support Command. Later, Home Command was retitled Operational Command. But the organisational concept of the World War II operational air group had been lost as, at base level, the principle of functional command had not been adopted. On Operational Command bases the mobile wings and squadrons of the RAAF reported to the officers commanding of their respective bases. The RAAF attempted to remove any notion of a geographic restriction on commanders by titling the base officer commanding as a “Formation Officer Commanding”, such as “OC RAAF Williamtown” rather than as a “Base Officer Commanding”, such as “OC RAAF Base Williamtown”. But with fighter squadrons at Butterworth and Williamtown, and maritime squadrons at Townsville and Richmond, all reporting through their respective “formation officers commanding”, it was clear there was no single commander oversighting either the RAAF fighter force or the RAAF maritime force. A further command discontinuity occurred when a flying squadron deployed and the command chain varied from the officer commanding of the squadron’s home base to the officer commanding the squadron’s deployment base ‒ “chopped”, in the jargon of the day. For example, if No 1 Squadron deployed from Amberley to Darwin, CO 1SQN would report to AOC Operational Command through OC RAAF Darwin, not OC RAAF Amberley. This could result in CO 1SQN reporting through a commander who may not have flown a jet aircraft, let alone an F-111C. In an attempt to simplify command chains and save resources, the RAAF also disestablished its operational wings with commanding officers of flying squadrons reporting directly to a “formation OC”. But the group captain, who was previously an “OC Wing”, remained on the RAAF bases and morphed into the Air Staff Officer (ASO). But, now as a staff officer, although the ASO reported to the “formation OC”, the ASO had no command authority over the units the “Formation OC” commanded (staff officers are not commanders). The RAAF now had a “staff versus command” issue as ASOs, officers generally of group captain rank, were effectively interposed between the “formation OC” and the various “squadron COs”. ASOs and squadron COs worked through this “staff versus command” issue in various ways but it was often messy; especially as “formation OCs” often delegated differing degrees of authority to their respective ASOs. Clarity of command, and command accountability issues, at RAAF bases were not uncommon. The introduction of functional chains of command by Sir Donald Hardman was a seminal change in RAAF organisation although, the principle of functional command did not flow down to RAAF bases and their operational units thereon, until the concept of the “Force Element Group” was introduced. Next month, On Target will discuss the evolution of RAAF Bases into RAAF Force Element groups, introduced on a trial basis, on 1 February 1987. Air-Vice Marshal Brian Weston (Retd) was CO No 75 Squadron in 1980, CO Base Squadron Richmond in 1986, OC Base Support Wing Richmond in 1987, and CDR Tactical Fighter Group from July 1990 to July 1993. Brian is a Board Member of the Williams Foundation and this On Target article appears in Australian Aviation magazine. Download pdf

Brian Weston 'On Target 'Structuring Air Power: Combat Power through Organisation – Part 1' in Australian Aviation' October 2017 p.2 Recent On Target columns in Australian Aviation have focused on the aeroplane and its evolution from airborne platforms to airborne weapons systems, an evolution which has seen lessening incremental gains in platform performance but huge leaps in weapons system capabilities. Unsurprisingly, these advances in the combat capability of airborne platforms have become the focus of much interest, and often debate. But there is much more to air combat power than just airborne platforms and systems, with even the seemingly mundane subject of organisation becoming a discriminating combat factor between air forces. As one of the world’s oldest air forces, the RAAF has some interesting history in how it has organised its elements of air power. Initially, as a very small air force developing within the sphere of influence of the British Empire, the RAAF simply took what was RAF organisational policy and adopted it as RAAF policy. It was a practical option, especially in its first 20 years when the fledgling air force was under-resourced and struggling for institutional survival. It also allowed Sir Richard Williams, the founding father of the RAAF, to allocate the scarce resources he could secure from government, to the building of several stations – as the RAF called its bases – upon which Australia’s small air force could consolidate and develop. What a shrewd move that was, for when World War II came the RAAF was able to use its combination of “area commands” and “stations” as the foundation upon which it could execute its prodigious expansion; not so much as a combat air force but as a training air force, a role determined by government which fed Australian airmen into RAF combat organisations in Britain and North Africa. When the Japanese entered World War II, with ferocity and success, the RAAF had to evolve its organisational model into something more appropriate for combat operations in the vast theatre of the South-West Pacific. But the speed of events in the Pacific war quickly overtook the capacity of the RAAF to respond and, given Australia’s dire military situation, the Curtin government soon handed over the command of all Australian combat operations in the South-West Pacific to General Douglas MacArthur, with RAAF combat units falling under the operational command of General George Kenney, US Army Air Forces (USAAF). RAAF combat units were grouped into a command called RAAF Command, commanded by Air Vice-Marshal William Bostock who reported to General Kenney, Commander, 5th Air Force USAAF. But Kenney had underlying concerns about the organisation of units within RAAF Command, especially their leadership, mobility, coordination, flexibility and effectiveness. Largely in response to Kenney’s concerns, the RAAF established No 9 Operational Group on 15 June 1943. The group, then located on Goodenough Island, was re-organized on a functional basis comprising two operational wings, one works wing, and one radio location (radar) wing. Air Commodore Joe Hewitt was appointed commander of No 9 Operational Group with a charter to better coordinate and concentrate the assets of the group to meet the demands of the theatre. It was noteworthy the change substantially reflected USAAF practice. A second operational group, No 10 Operational Group, under the command of Air Commodore Scherger, was soon formed. In November 1943, No 10 Operational Group evolved into the RAAF First Tactical Air Force; an operational entity still smaller than a USAAF “numbered air force”, but nevertheless a large, powerful and mobile fighting air force. These seemingly minor World War II organisational changes were significant changes in RAAF organisational policy for three reasons. First, the South-West Pacific theatre provided the main opportunities for senior RAAF officers to command large operational entities as, in the European and North African theatres where RAAF personnel were dispersed among RAF operational entities, few senior RAAF officers were granted command at levels higher than that of a squadron commanding officer – a tactical level command. Second, the South‒West Pacific theatre exposed senior RAAF officers to the functional operational command model employed by the USAAF. Third, the performance of RAAF commanders in the South-West Pacific generally demonstrated the RAAF had, within its ranks, officers with the ability to command large aggregate groupings of operational units. Given General MacArthur generally chose not to use Australian operational units in his advance to the Philippines, the RAAF did not have too many more opportunities to gain further experience at the operational level of war. Hence, the decision to structure RAAF tactical units into operational groups in the South-West Pacific, was a significant milestone in RAAF organisational policy in that it added to the depth of experience the RAAF was gaining as it matured into a more credible and more powerful air force. The question was; how would the air force translate this operational experience into the post-World War II air force? Air-Vice Marshal Brian Weston (Retd) was CO No 75 Squadron in 1980, CO Base Squadron Richmond in 1986, OC Base Support Wing Richmond in 1987, and CDR Tactical Fighter Group from July 1990 to July 1993. Brian is a Board Member of the Williams Foundation and this On Target article appears in Australian Aviation magazine. Download pdf

Dr Robbin Laird, Second Line of Defense The Future of Electronic Warfare 23 August 2017 Final Report Dr Robbin Laird, Second Line of Defense The Future of Electonic Warfare Final Report: A New Approach and Attitude to Electronic Warfare in Australia, 15 September 2017 In this report, the major presentations at the Williams Foundation seminar on the evolution of electronic warfare, notably from the standpoint of shaping an integrated force, are outlined and discussed. The seminar was held on August 23, 2017 in Canberra, Australia. Additional materials provided during interviews prior to or during the seminar are included as well as relevant background and analytical materials building out key themes introduced and discussed in the seminar. Download Pdf 08/26/2017 Robbin Laird The Williams Foundation Seminar on Electronic Warfare

Brian Weston 'On Target 'Fourth to Fifth Generation: Enter the F-35A Lightning II' in Australian Aviation' August 2017 p.25 Following the earlier RAAF fighter transitions from CAC Sabre to Dassault Mirage IIIO, then to the McDonnell Douglas F/A-18A, the RAAF, as evidenced by the deployment of its first two F-35A fighters across the Pacific for the 2017 Avalon Airshow, has already commenced its transition from a fourth generation to a fifth generation fighter capability. Like the two previous fighter transitions, each with their unique characteristics and challenges, the introduction of the F-35A will pose some new problems especially given the large step-up in capability. Like previous transitions, this change will also require the RAAF to maintain a credible level of combat capability throughout the change, and possibly require it to sustain concurrent operational deployments. But aside from this, most of the issues arising from the transition can be categorized as related to either the management of the increased resources and personnel needed for the transition, or to the introduction of significantly increased levels of technology and capability. Previous transitions certainly have stressed both resources and personnel during the phase out of the preceding fighter, the phase in of the new fighter, and during the period of overlapping operations and sustainment of the two types. However, unlike earlier fighter transitions, the RAAF now can exploit the availability of overseas F-35A training, rather than conduct all of the transitional activities in Australia. No 3 Squadron (3SQN) will be the first RAAF unit to convert to the F-35A with some personnel already in the US for training. This progressively expanding group will further consolidate their F-35A training by remaining in the US for some time, with some pilots gaining further experience as instructional pilots (IPs in USAF jargon) in the USAF F-35A training unit. Soon after, personnel earmarked for future Australian-based F-35A fighter instructional duties will join 3SQN personnel in the US. As this cohort of Australian F-35A instructional staff builds in the US, No 2 Operational Conversion Unit (2OCU), the RAAF’s dedicated fighter training unit, will cease F/A-18A operational training. Once 3SQN has built to a critical mass it will return to Australia where it will mature into Australia’s first operational F-35A unit. Shortly after, the cadre of instructional staff that had also been building in the US, will return to Australia to reconstitute 2OCU as the dedicated Australian F-35A training unit. From this US-trained cadre, 2OCU will build its F-35A training capacity and expertise, at a measured rate, until the unit takes on the responsibility for converting pilots from the remaining two F/A-18A squadrons onto the F-35A; as well as commencing the training of pilots direct from the RAAF Lead-in Fighter Program. With the phase out of the F/A-18A, and with No 6 Squadron (6SQN) becoming an EA-18G unit, there also will be consequences for the training of RAAF EA-18G aircrew and RAAF F/A-18F aircrew at No 1 Squadron (1SQN). As the option of establishing a training organization for F/A-18F and EA-18G aircrew would come at the cost of eroding the operational capabilities of the squadrons, a decision to train future Australian F/A-18F and EA-18G aircrew in the US has been made ‒ with ‘C’ Flight of 1SQN being tasked only with the conduct of RAAF F/A-18F refresher and standardization activities. Apart from managing the personnel and resource aspects of the transition, the RAAF must also manage the technological advances which are core to the operational effectiveness of the F-35A. Stealth, sensors, sensor fusion and connectivity, all involve technological leaps which will be periodically advanced through software and hardware upgrades. These evolving technologies will generate substantial changes in roles, operational doctrine, tactics, and procedures which will impinge on not just other air force capabilities, but also on army and navy capabilities. The evolutionary expansion of the unparalleled connectivity of the F-35A to other ADF capabilities will presage an expansion of F-35A roles well beyond the roles traditionally espoused for combat systems with an ‘F’ designation. So the air force seems well-placed in its transition to a new air combat capability, which is not surprising given Australia’s long and deep involvement with the JSF program as a Level 2 Partner Nation, as was evident by the presence of the two Australian F-35A aircraft, and their RAAF pilots, at Avalon. The transition from F/A-18A Hornet to the F-35A Lightning II is well underway, with the RAAF on the verge of a new operational era, with its combat force of three F-35A squadrons, an F-35A operational conversion unit, one squadron of F/A-18F Super Hornets and one squadron of EA-18G Growlers. It would seem to be a good time to be a junior air force Australian Defence Force Academy cadet, with the prospect of earning wings on the spirited Pilatus PC-21, followed by lead-in fighter training on the capable Hawk, and then converting directly to the F-35A. Air-Vice Marshal Brian Weston (Retd) flew Sabre, Mirage and Hornet fighters during his air force career. Brian is a Board Member of the Williams Foundation and this On Target article appears in Australian Aviation magazine. Download pdf

Dr Alan Stephens 'Meteor versus MiG: Challenging the Myth' in Australian Aviation' July 2017 A story board in the Korean War display at the Australian War Memorial asserts that, “after the first encounter between [RAAF] Meteors and [Chinese] MiGs … it was clear that the MiGs outclassed the Meteors in nearly every way”, a judgment that has become received wisdom. It is, however, inconsistent with the facts. For the first five months of the Korean War, the RAAF’s No 77 Squadron, flying P-51 Mustangs, made a vital contribution in the ground attack role. However, in November 1950, the appearance of Chinese Air Force MiG-15s indicated that the air war had entered a new and more dangerous phase. The MiG-15 was an advanced technology fighter, its swept-wing aerodynamics and 2470-kilogram thrust engine giving it an excellent rate-of-climb, service ceiling and maximum speed. The RAAF decided to replace its Mustangs with jets as soon as possible. Because the United States’ best fighter, the swept-wing F-86 Sabre, was unavailable, the twin-engine, straight-wing British Gloster Meteor Mk VIII was chosen. In the circumstances the Meteor was the best the RAAF could do. The question was whether that “best” would be good enough. The Meteor had been designed to intercept high-flying bombers under the guidance of ground radar. Air combat in Korea, however, involved the classic “dog-fight”, in which speed, manoeuvrability and acceleration were the critical qualities. Doubts about the Meteor’s ability to compete against faster swept-wing aircraft were eased when it performed reasonably well against a USAF F-86 during trials in Japan. In particular, the Meteor demonstrated a better rate-of-climb and a tighter turning radius at altitudes below 7600 metres. After six months training in Japan, in July 1951, No 77 Squadron deployed twenty-two Meteors to Kimpo airfield northwest of Seoul. The Americans had only two squadrons of Sabres in Korea, so the arrival of a third squadron of jet fighters was keenly anticipated. The RAAF was confident the Meteor would be effective as an air-to-air fighter: the challenge would be to employ tactics which maximised its advantages and minimised the MiG-15s. On 29 July, sixteen Meteors conducted the RAAF’s first jet fighter mission, a sweep up to the Yalu River (nicknamed “MiG Alley”). Given the findings of the trials in Japan, it was curious that the Australians patrolled between 9150 and 10,700 metres, flying top-cover for USAF F-86s at 6100 to 7600 metres. The reverse would have made more sense. The first combat occurred on 29 August, when eight Meteors and sixteen F-86s clashed with twelve MiGs at 10,700 metres. One Meteor was shot-down and another sustained major damage. A week later the second clash took place, with one Meteor being badly damaged while the enemy escaped unscathed. The inference was immediately drawn that the results “proved” the Meteor’s inferiority, and No. 77 Squadron was restricted to operations away from MiG Alley. A number of RAAF pilots considered the decision hasty believing that with a little more experience, tactics would have been developed to maximise the Meteor’s positive qualities, and that unrestricted air combat operations could have been successful. Then-pilot officer, later air vice-marshal, Bill Simmonds (who subsequently shot-down a MiG-15) believed the Meteor was much underrated, and that the Australians’ problems were related primarily to inadequate training and poor tactics. Simmonds’ opinion was shared by the RAF, who privately criticised the RAAF for making its decision after only two “short sharp ... inconclusive engagements”. A senior RAF pilot attached to No 77 Squadron argued that no Meteor pilot should ever be shot-down by a MiG-15 below 9150 metres unless he made a mistake, because the Meteor was more manoeuvrable. And the commander of the USAF in Korea considered the British aircraft’s “good rate-of-turn ... excellent climb and excellent armament” had not been used to full effect by the Australians. No 77 Squadron was taken off fighter sweeps and was tasked with protecting bombers and ground attack aircraft. The squadron generally flew at an altitude of 7000 to 7620 metres. If attacked, pilots immediately descended to their optimum fighting altitude of 5500 metres and jettisoned external stores. At that height and in a clean configuration, the inferior thrust of the Meteor’s engines was less pronounced and its superior turning qualities were enhanced. Nevertheless, there was a limit to the Meteor’s competitiveness, which was determined by the speed differential. The MiG-15 was capable of Mach 0.9 in level flight, compared to the Meteor’s Mach 0.82. That differential almost invariably allowed enemy pilots to decide when a dogfight would start and when it would end, a critical tactical advantage. RAAF and USAF pilots were almost invariably outnumbered. On 24 October, eight B-29 bombers attacking a railway bridge south of MiG Alley were escorted by sixteen Meteors and ten USAF F-84 Thunderjets. The formation was “relentlessly” assailed by sixty MiG-15s. Three days later, sixteen Meteors and thirty-two F-84s flying cover for eight B-29s were “overwhelmed” by ninety-five MiGs. Notwithstanding the intensity of those attacks, one of No 77 Squadron’s senior pilots reported that the protective screen established by the Meteors was never penetrated. On 1 December, fifty MiGs made a “vicious” attack on fourteen Meteors, shooting-down three. But in turn, No 77 Squadron shot-down two MiGs, a highly creditable performance given the numerical disparity. However, the following day, the squadron was told that it would no longer fly air combat sorties over North Korea; and, for the rest of the war, the Meteors were used in the ground-attack role. Yet in total, only four Meteors were ever shot-down by MiG-15s; by contrast, the Australians scored five confirmed MiG kills. There is no question that most air combat pilots would prefer the MiG-15 to the Meteor. But the belief that the MiG-15 “outclassed the Meteor in nearly every way” is inconsistent with the facts. Dr Alan Stephens is a Research fellow of the Williams Foundation and a visiting fellow at UNSW Canberra. On Target is published as a regular column in the Australian Defence Business Review. Download pdf