Why, in the wake of World War I, did the relationship between the US Army Air Service and the US Navy go so bad so quickly? Thomas Wildenberg's
Billy Mitchell's War with the Navy: The Interwar Rivalry Over Air Power chronicles the conflict between aviation enthusiasts (personified and led by William Mitchell) and the establishment Navy during the interwar period. With control over aviation assets at stake, the sides argued over the effectiveness of airpower against warships and shipping. Mitchell and his acolytes took a maximalist position, holding the air forces had effectively rendered surface navies obsolete, and that the United States government should redirect money away from battleships and aircraft carriers and towards heavy bombers. Fighting the Navy couldn't win Mitchell organizational independence, but it did hold the opportunity for gaining control of the immense resources that an independent air force would require.
The Navy and the Air Service fought for high stakes. In the United Kingdom, the Royal Air Force was stitched together from the Royal Flying Corps and the Royal Naval Air Service, putting all military aviation assets under one banner. The USN wanted to avoid this outcome at all costs, while Billy Mitchell wanted to create a similar arrangement in the US. In context of severe defense cuts at the end of the World War I, everything seemed to be on the table.
Wildenberg devotes considerable attention to the exercises that led to the
sinking of the SMS Ostfriesland and several other old warships. With respect to the sinking of Ostfriesland, both sides had legitimate points to score. Ostfriesland was older than most of the American battleships of the day, but not all, and not much older. If bombers could sink her, then they could likely sink all but the most modern of the American standard type battleships. Three other issues made the exercise problematic, however. First, Ostfriesland was stationary, considerably simplifying the problem of bombing. In one of his more absurd moments, Mitchell explained this away in a passage that likely sets some sort of record for military dishonesty:
It does not make very much difference because we employ a massed attack. A ship on the surface of the water in motion is much easier to hit than an object at rest because the relative speed between the airplane and the object being fired at is the thing that makes it difficult to secure hits. If a water vessel could be moving at the same rate as an airplane there would be absolutely no trouble whatever hitting it because all you would have to do would be to get over the object and drop the bomb and as both the airplane and its taget would be going at the same speed you would be certain to get a hit. Therefore the faster that a water vessel goes the easier it is to hit from the air. This is not understood at all by people unfamiliar with bombing. As to turning and zigzagging, the turns of surface vessels of any kind are so slow as to be almost negligible from the air.
Second, Ostfriesland was in poor shape, and lacked a crew. German battleships were well-known for their thorough compartmentalization and their watertight integrity, but looters and poor maintenance had made sealing Ostfriesland impossible. The battleship was already taking on water before the bombing began. More importantly, with no damage control teams on board, even relatively minor damage could prove lethal.
Finally (and in the only point that supports Mitchell) Ostfriesland had no munitions aboard. This rendered the battleship effectively immune to loss through catastrophic explosion, although the ability of the bombs used by the Army Air Service to penetrate Ostfriesland's magazines is in considerable question.
Mitchell did violate the rules of the exercise, but not to the extent that it made much of a difference to the outcome.
The Army Air Service sank Ostfriesland and a variety of other old American and German vessels, helping both services to learn a great deal about targeting and bomb damage. Mitchell's interest was in propaganda, however; he used the sinking of the old battleship to argue that surface vessels of any kind were effectively obsolete in the face of determined air attack. It bears note that Mitchell was not
predicting that surface ships
would become vulnerable at some point in the future; he made clear his belief that the USN was already obsolete as of the early 1920s.
It's fair to say that Wildenberg is not impressed by Billy Mitchell, and that he generally tilts towards the Navy's side of the conflict. Wildenberg lands clear punches, demonstrating that while Mitchell was an effective organizational commander and an excellent propagandist, he had severe shortcomings as a strategist. The subject is complicated, because while planes can't sink battleships as easily as Mitchell suggested, they surely can sink them. Mitchell's claims for the capacity of aircraft to sink warships were wildly overstated, and were wrong in many of the particulars. But it's less clear that they were so wrong as to be unproductive. The extent to which the battleship was obsolete prior to 1939 has been (in part because of Mitchell and his partisans) strongly overstated, but then most major powers either curtailed battleship construction or ended it entirely once World War II began. It also bears note that Mitchell was quite right about the pointlessness of lighter-than-air aviation, and about many aspects of the interwar military aviation complex.
But then Mitchell's advocacy was surely unproductive in terms of the details of how aircraft could be used for coastal defense. Heavy, level bombers were nearly useless in World War II for attacks against naval vessels, as warships proved far too fast, maneuverable, and heavily armed to succumb to high altitude level bombing. In a prediction that didn't pan out, Mitchell suggested:
If the same method of battleship construction is continued, in the future no crw will stay on a battleship when aircraft comein sight. The captian will have to stick at his post and will probably send for a bottle of torpedo fluid to help him, and everyone else will immediately jump overboard. When the alarm of airplanes in sight is given, the crew will immediately put on gas masks, kapok coats in order to float in the water, asbestos shoes and gloves so as to be able to touch the hot metal, and parachutes so that they will be able to open them and come down alright when blown into the air.
Hyperbole yes, but not particularly helpful hyperbole. Dedicated dive and torpedo bombers, usually (although not always) developed by navies, would sink the vast majority of warships during the war. Level bombers did better against civilian shipping, but this was not envisioned to be a serious operational task in the early inter-war period. And Mitchell was egregiously wrong about the effectiveness of carriers and carrier aircraft, which he believed would always be at a disadvantage against land-based air. Granting that Mitchell had a point with respect to aircraft sinking warships also requires appreciating that he got the details entirely wrong, and that he advocated policies that would have produced tactical and organizational disaster.
But Wildenberg probably goes too far when he draws Mitchell's personal history into the dispute. He illustrates his narrative with passages from Mitchell's life, stories that generally do not reflect well on the aviator. These passages add color to the account (he probably shot his first wife, for example), but also tend to obscure the argument by portraying Mitchell more cartoonishly than is strictly necessary. There were undoubtedly a significant number of officers on each side of the three way argument between the Army, the Air Service, and the Navy who suffered from alcoholism, who liked the ponies a bit overmuch, and who wildly overspent their means. Detailing these characteristics primarily for Mitchell and not for the other antagonists leaves a lopsided story that is, if anything, unfair to Mitchell.
Wildenberg doesn't present much in the way of a general theory of inter-service conflict, but it's not hard to develop one. Essentially, inter-service tension in the interwar period precluded the development not only of good cooperative procedures in areas of common interest, but also of the development of knowledge. Mitchell had a sincere interest in the bombing exercises, but his goals were mainly political, rather than the development of tactics, techniques, and technologies for using air and naval assets together. Mitchell wanted to prove that aircraft could kill specific battleships in order to kill the
idea of battleships. The Navy appreciated that someone would try to sink its ships with aircraft, and even if it believed that Mitchell overstated the air threat, it did need a technical understanding of how bomb damage affected warships. The question was under what conditions, and what factors could either enhance the ability of friendly aircraft to sink enemy ships, or prevent the sinking of friendly ships by enemy aircraft. But faced with the political threat posed by Mitchell and his enthusiasts, the Navy grew understandably reluctant to put even its older ships at the service of the Army.
In the long run, this dynamic would hurt the Army Air Corps more than the Navy. Navy exercises and planning in the 1930s demonstrated the potential effectiveness of dive and torpedo bombers, even if it took some time in practice to develop effective anti-aircraft techniques. The Air Corps entered the war with an excess of optimism about the role that B-17s could play in coastal defense, while simultaneously lacking any understanding of how heavy bombers might support the anti-submarine effort (although obviously the Navy hardly covered itself with glory on this score in the first year of the war). Threatening the Navy forced it to circle the (battle) wagons, which limited the extent to which the Air Service could prepare for the next war. Everybody likes aggressive, enthusiastic activism than threatens entrenched interests, but those interests may respond in generally unproductive ways.
This is an interesting book, and if it had come out earlier I would have found it useful in my own work. The research appears sound, and the argument is largely correct. I can't help feel, however, that the case could have been made more carefully. The book could also have been organized more clearly, as some of the early chapter are much longer than their later counterparts (this may be my own pet peeve). Nevertheless, it's a good one volume account of how bitterly the Navy and the Air Service fought for prominence in the interwar period.
Cross-posted at LGM.
The Navy is bureaucratically trying to kill a carrier it believes it can no longer afford. It is proposing long term lay-up of eleven cruisers as a fall-back force structure preservation measure. It is truncating its small surface combatant program (under pressure) in search of additional lethality and survivabilty, injecting unwelcome churn into a program that has finally begun to hit reasonable unit production costs, while likely creating a hole in its shipbuilding plan. It is reducing its buy of fifth generation fighters. It is closing down the production line of one of is most successful weapons--the Tomahawk Land Attack Missile--without an identified replacement and several years until that replacement is in production. It is struggling to afford two attack submarines a year even as its highest priority acquisition program--the follow-on ballistic missile submarine--looms on the horizon with its cost likely to consume nearly half the shipbuilding budget for ten years. And its shipbuilding plan--the one now aiming at 308 ships--is underfunded to the tune of nearly $4B a year when compared to historical levels of spending, realistically pointing toward a fleet at least 20% smaller than is planned.
