Tag Archive for: F-35

Projecting power with the F-35 (part 4): offshore bases

In previous pieces in this series I discussed the range limitations that are inherent in the design of tactical fighter aircraft. This includes the F-35A currently being acquired by Australia to constitute the core of its air combat force for a long time to come.

While aerial refuelling can increase a fighter’s time on station, there are limits on how much it can increase range. Even with tanker support the maximum achievable range for the F-35A is between 1,000 and 1,500 kilometres. Moreover, the number of F-35As that can be kept on station at those ranges is extremely small—sustaining just two fighters on station at 1,500 km would likely consume the Royal Australian Air Force’s current enabling capabilities.

One way to address these limitations would be to operate from airfields away from the Australian mainland. But it can’t be just any airfield. A minimum runway length of 8,000 feet, or almost 2.5 kilometres, is required to safely operate the F-35A. A shorter runway could be used, but then ordnance or fuel may need to be sacrificed to reduce the take-off weight and, as we have seen, fuel is crucial.

In addition, lots of pavement is required for the aircraft to stand on while they are maintained, refuelled and armed. A 2002 RAND Corporation study determined that a squadron of fighters required around 12,000 square metres of ramp space. Runway and pavement size requirements increase substantially if large aircraft like tankers and early-warning aircraft are also operating from the base, as does the required pavement strength. There’s also the need for substantial fuel reserves.

Gaining access to existing military airbases helps, as at least some of those things are already available. The risk with foreign airbases, of course, is that access is always at the owner’s discretion. Fortunately, Australia has a couple of airfields of its own that could help at Christmas Island and at the Cocos (Keeling) Islands. The latter has an 8,000-foot runway that supports the P-3 Orion maritime patrol aircraft, which has recently retired from RAAF service. According to Defence’s Integrated Investment Program, the runway is being upgraded to support the larger P-8A Poseidon maritime patrol aircraft. In June, Defence released a tender for works to strengthen and widen the runways, taxiways and aprons at an estimated cost of $200 million. No improvements to support fighter operations appear to be planned.

Figure 1: 1,500-kilometre range ring from the Cocos (Keeling) Islands

From the Cocos Islands, the F-35A could conduct strike operations in the vicinity of the strategic Sunda Strait between Java and Sumatra at its extreme range of 1,500 km, assuming it had access either to air-to-air refuellers (potentially operating out of a mainland base) and/or a long-range strike missile. But maintaining a sustained presence would not be possible. Any operations over the Malacca Strait would be improbable, and they would be impossible over the South China Sea.

To project further north, Australia would need to rely on bases like Malaysia’s Butterworth that Australia has access to through an arrangement with the Malaysian government.

Figure 2: 1,000-kilometre range ring from Butterworth, Malaysia, and 3,000-kilometre range ring from Hainan, China

Butterworth puts the entire Strait of Malacca inside the F-35A’s unrefuelled range. It doesn’t get the F-35A very far into the South China Sea, although extending its range to 1,500 km through air-to-air refuelling would help.

Of course, in a contingency Malaysia might not feel that hosting Australian air combat operations was in its interests. The other big disadvantage is that Butterworth is within range of Chinese intermediate-range ballistic missiles. A 2017 report by the US Center for a New American Security argued that such weapons have the ability to ‘devastate’ US forces in Asia and the Pacific as they are sufficiently precise to target runways, aircraft hardstands and fuel depots. Currently Australia has no ability to defeat such a threat.

And there’s the rub. The further north we operate, the further inside China’s anti-access/area-denial zone we get. Of course, it’s hard to imagine a scenario where Australia would be operating so far from home without being part of a coalition with the US. But even the US is facing the same challenge presented by Chinese capabilities—its fighters are out-ranged by Chinese missiles and its defences could be overwhelmed.

Airfields will be even more critical to any contingencies in the South Pacific. Just as operations in World War II in the Pacific were focused on gaining or denying access to airfields, so they will be in any future conflict. But runways 8000 feet long are in short supply in the South Pacific. Those that do exist are international airports, not military airbases.

While the US military built many airfields across the region during the war, they were made for the aircraft of that time. Consequently, they are only 5,000–6,000 feet (1.5–1.8 km) in length and have very limited pavement. Many are in poor condition.

Manus Island in Papua New Guinea shows the potential advantages and disadvantages of offshore airbases in the South Pacific. Australia is currently working with PNG to upgrade the naval base at Lombrum on Manus. There’s also an airport on Manus at Momote, originally established as a WWII airbase. As the figure below suggests, air combat operations from Momote would close the gap between PNG and the US forces based at Guam.

In a worst-case scenario in which US power in the western Pacific had been severely weakened and China sought to physically isolate Australia from the US (essentially a key element of Japanese strategy in WWII), airpower based at Momote could interdict any Chinese attempts to project force into the southwest Pacific. If China does have intentions to establish military bases in countries like Vanuatu, Momote would in turn isolate them from China.

Figure 3: 1,000-kilometre range ring from Manus Island, Papua New Guinea

However, the runway at Momote is only about 6,000 feet long. Upgrading air combat operations will take a lot of concrete for runway extensions and aprons as well as fuel and munitions storage, particularly if larger aircraft will be operating from there. If just strengthening and widening the Cocos runway is set to cost $200 million, upgrading Momote to support air combat operations will cost many times more.

While China has demonstrated its ability to lay a lot of concrete on islands quickly, it’s not something that the Australian Defence Force can do overnight. If it’s something we think is important, we’ll need to build it well in advance of any contingency. As with all offshore bases, partners’ interests and sensitivities need to be heeded at both the local and national levels.

Depending on the threat, many other assets would need to be deployed to protect the airbase, such as ground-based air defence and other land forces. This would bring Defence’s amphibious capabilities into play. Fuel may need to be delivered by the navy’s tankers. Protection and supply elements could need more F-35As and the navy’s major surface ships to protect them en route.

While offshore airbases could help project Australian power further forward, they would likely require substantial infrastructure investment well in advance of their military use and, potentially, the deployment of a substantial joint force to sustain and protect them.

Projecting power with the F-35 (part 3): operational implications

I argued in parts 1 and 2 that ultimately it doesn’t really matter how many F-35s and aerial refuelling tankers Australia buys; there are hard limits on how far we can project and sustain airpower based on operating from Australian airbases. If Australia is willing to invest heavily in more enablers like the KC-30A tanker, we could probably project airpower out to around 1,500 kilometres from one mainland base, but we probably couldn’t sustain a presence much beyond 1,000 km. And, due to the number of aircraft the Royal Australian Air Force possesses, we could likely only do it in one place at a time.

If you’re a member of the school of strategic thought that believes the Australian Defence Force should be operating beyond our continent itself and out in the region, then this analysis shows how difficult it would be to provide air support for a deployed task force, for either air defence or close air support for troops engaged on the ground.

What this means is that if the RAAF devoted its entire effort to the task, deployed forces could hope for two F-35As providing sustained combat air patrols over Timor-Leste or mainland Papua New Guinea.

Sustaining airpower over Christmas Island (around 1,600 km from the nearest airbase) would be challenging, as it would over a near neighbour such as New Caledonia (1,500 km) or the planned joint naval base on Manus Island (1,300 km). Sustaining any presence over key chokepoints such as the Sunda Strait (1,900 km) is probably not achievable.

Certainly, the task becomes easier if the commander is willing to accept more risk and if it’s decided that air support doesn’t have to continuous. But that means it may not be there when needed. And reaching relatively near neighbours like Fiji (2,700 km) can’t be done at all from mainland Australia.

Those who subscribe to the ‘defence of Australia’ school of strategic thought might argue that these scenarios are irrelevant because we shouldn’t be deploying task forces, particularly amphibious ones, in the first place. They would say our key missions will be either air defence of key mainland sites or strikes on bases our adversary is trying to establish in our near region or on maritime forces approaching Australia. They’d argue that with situational awareness and accurate predictions of the enemy’s movements, we should be able to fly missions only when we need to or at times of our choosing, and therefore we don’t need to keep aircraft constantly in the air a long way from their bases.

However, the problem with waiting behind a moat on the mainland was highlighted recently by Richard Dunley: ‘For the [defensive sea denial] strategy to work, the denying force needs to be stronger than its enemy everywhere (within the region of operations) all of the time. It’s no good being able to defend half of your coastline, or to do so whenever your forces are deployable.’

As explained in part 1, flying from mainland airbases to defend Australian cities, key infrastructure or potential enemy landing zones could still require ranges of well over 1,000 km. Because of the size of our continent, conducting operations within Australia is essentially a form of expeditionary warfare that could require the same enablers as projecting power from Australia. From a pilot’s perspective, the Australian mainland is no different from the South Pacific—airbases are simply tiny islands in a vast brown continent rather than a blue one. And, theoretically, you’d need to defend all of it all of the time. That means providing for the defence of Australia is at least as big a resource problem as the scenario outlined in part 2.

If, however, we see the defence of Australia as essentially an anti-access/area-denial task aimed at striking the enemy as far from Australia as possible, the problem is somewhat different.

Conducting strike missions allows the commander to prioritise range over endurance. If the commander is willing to take some risk (it is the defence of the homeland after all) and has a lot of tankers, they could push the range of the strike package out to 1,500 km. A future F-35A-launched strike missile could potentially add around 500 km to that range, making the strike radius ring pretty big (see Figure 1). It includes most of the island chain to our northeast and key choke points through the archipelago to our northwest.

Figure 1: 2,000-kilometre range rings from northern Australian bases

But even in this role, the F-35A itself is just the tip of the iceberg. The RAAF can assemble a potent strike force including Wedgetail early-warning aircraft for battlespace awareness and Growlers to jam enemy air-defence radars—and will soon have Peregrine aircraft to map the electronic warfare landscape. But all of those assets are limited in number, so we could probably only conduct that task in one place at one time.

The most important element of a fifth-generation air force is highly capable intelligence, surveillance and reconnaissance assets. For Australia that means the yet-to-be-deployed Triton long-range drones, the Jindalee over-the-horizon radar network, and space-based capabilities to locate the enemy far from our shores, as well as the ‘hidden’ targeting infrastructure necessary to support long-range strike capabilities.

Such a capability would complicate an adversary’s plans to establish forward operating bases or to conduct operations directly against Australia. That means they’ll be doing everything possible to strike our airbases before our aircraft take off. Granted, if an adversary was using fighters, they would themselves face the same challenges we’ve been looking at. But a major power would have a lot of other assets at its disposal, such as bombers, medium-range ballistic missiles, and submarine-launched cruise missiles, all of which outrange the F-35A. So, building a resilient strike system around that jet still requires the rest of the iceberg outlined in part 2, including ground-based air defence and redundant fuel storage.

The starting point of this series was the concern that we will not be able to rely as heavily on US military power in the future and consequently we will need to be more self-reliant in some contingencies. Using the example of air combat power, this series has argued that greater self-reliance requires not simply additional F-35As but a broad range of expensive enabling capabilities. Even then there are critical points of failure.

Even if one assesses that a self-reliant defence-of-Australia scenario is an extremely remote possibility in any credible future and that the most likely task for the ADF is to continue to deploy in US-led coalitions, the problem of limited fighter range in the vast Indo-Pacific is a pervasive one. There’s also the challenge that the US itself is grappling with of how to operate in the western Pacific when its fighters are substantially outranged by Chinese missiles. That means the issues raised here are relevant not just for a defence-of-Australia situation. Virtually any operations in the Indo-Pacific will face the same challenges.

In future pieces, I’ll look at the benefits and risks of other options to extend Australia’s combat power, ranging from overseas bases to submarines, cyber capabilities and strategic bombers.

Projecting power with the F-35 (part 2): going further

In part 1, I examined the hard limits on the F-35A’s unrefuelled range. Air-to-air refuelling can certainly help extend it.

Tankers can substantially increase fighters’ time on station (that is, how long they can stay out). But they can’t extend the jets’ combat range indefinitely. There are several reasons for this. The first is that generally pilots want to have enough fuel on board to get home alone, just in case the tanker they were planning to refuel from isn’t there (due to mechanical problems, being shot down or driven off station by enemy aircraft, or just running dry).

In a region like the Middle East, this risk can be mitigated by having fallback airfields to divert to in an emergency, but in the Pacific (and indeed in Australia itself) there are very few fallback options, particularly ones that you can safely land a conventional fighter on.

That means once an F-35A flies out roughly 1,000 kilometres, it needs to tank before it can go any further. But that load of fuel only allows it to go a further 500 km because at that point it will still need to have 1,500 km of fuel reserves on board to get home. And that doesn’t give any time on station or give it fuel to fight. So, it would need to tank again to stay on station. But, theoretically, a combat range of around 1,500 km is achievable. That would look something like the red ring in Figure 1.

Figure 1: 1,500-kilometre combat radius from Darwin

I’ve included only one ring, and that’s because of the second reason that tankers can’t extend a fighter’s range indefinitely—air-to-air refuelling to keep fighters on station is very resource intensive.

If a commander wanted to keep F-35As on station around 1,500 km out from mainland airbases (potentially protecting an amphibious task force, a lodged land force, or a naval task force patrolling choke points), planners would likely need to set up two refuelling circuits—one to enable the fighters to reach their station, and then one a few hundred kilometres behind the fighters’ station so they can pull back, refuel and return to station with fuel to fight.

In that scenario, keeping just two F-35As on station would take at least eight F-35As in the air at one time around the clock (two heading out, four cycling between their station and the refueller, and two heading home). Each of them would need to fly an eight-hour mission, potentially tanking four or five times. Taking aircraft maintenance and unserviceability into account (which will increase as the operation continues), that would potentially require at least 12 to 16 aircraft to sustain. But since pilots can fly that mission only once per day, the cycle needs a minimum of 24 pilots (and more to account for ‘unserviceability’ of pilots as the operation grinds into the future).

But more is needed. The whole concept of a fifth-generation air force relies on superior situational awareness, so to fully exploit the F-35A’s capabilities the package would need to include an E-7A Wedgetail early warning and control aircraft flying a circuit a hundred kilometres or so behind the fighters to detect enemy aircraft. The RAAF has six, and fewer than that will be available for operations, and fewer again serviceable for missions. Therefore, sustaining that one combat air patrol will likely require all the Wedgetails. Keeping them on station will likely draw on some of the tankers’ fuel.

But the biggest stressor on the viability of the mission is tanker capacity. The air force now has seven KC-30A air-to-air refuellers after recently acquiring an additional two. It’s hard to see more than five being available, and fewer will be serviceable on any given day. One tanker, engaged in continuously refuelling fighters on the combat air patrol, can’t stay on station for more than four to six hours before needing to refuel.

Sustaining two refuelling stations (one to get the fighters out to the patrol area and one to sustain them on station) with a force of only four or five tankers would likely exceed any responsible commander’s risk tolerance by creating a single catastrophic point of failure. One unserviceable tanker, accident or combat loss would cause the entire cycle to collapse, potentially with pilots and aircraft unable to make it home.

Keeping the fuel flowing to the tankers would also be challenging. Even exercises such as Pitch Black have taxed fuel supplies at permanent bases. The kind of scenario outlined here would require well in excess of 500 tonnes of fuel per day (visualise around 20 semi-trailers, or over the course of a month something roughly commensurate with the Northern Territory’s total average monthly aviation fuel consumption). Getting that reliably to remote bare bases such as RAAF Scherger on Cape York would be a demanding task, although the challenge could be mitigated by flying the tankers out of permanent air bases.

A 1,500 km sustained presence over a hypothetical task force in the Bismarck Sea would look something like the smaller of the two rings in Figure 2. That would consume all of the RAAF’s enabling capabilities. It’s possible that enough fighter pilots and jets would be left over to conduct air defence of one other location (indicated here by the ring based on Darwin), but they’d be doing it without early warning aircraft or tankers.

Figure 2: F-35A combat air patrol at 1,500 kilometres

Pulling the patrol back into 1,000 km would destress the cycle, potentially by allowing the commander to manage with just one air-to-air refuelling circuit, thereby requiring fewer KC-30As. But that gets us back to our starting point—air-to-air refuelling doesn’t help that much with increasing the F-35A’s combat range.

Would more of the same help? The short answer is, it can’t extend range much beyond 1,500 km as that limit derives from the nature of the F-35A. But more enablers would make the system robust. Andrew Davies recently gave a concise list of what these would be, ranging from greater fuel storage to tankers.

People are key—not just pilots, but also maintainers, ordnance handlers, and air combat officers in the back of Wedgetails, to name a few essential categories—but all will be taxed in a scenario of sustained operations. Even mundane things like concrete hard stands would be in high demand, because the limited space of the bare bases would quickly be overwhelmed. In short, the F-35As themselves are just the tip of the iceberg.

If the enemy has long-range standoff strike weapons or special forces that can destroy fuel farms, that’s another point of failure, as is a strike that craters the runway and shuts down operations. A favourite special forces tactic in exercises is to sneak in at night and ‘kill’ all the pilots. So ‘more of the same’ would also need to include defensive capabilities such as ground-based air defence missiles, air defence guards, and maybe even a combat air patrol over the base itself (requiring more F-35As, more pilots and more fuel).

More fighters could allow the RAAF to operate simultaneously from multiple airbases, partially mitigating the risk posed by an enemy strike on any individual base, but those bases would also need the rest of the logistics chain.

With the sticker price just for tankers around $300 million each, building robustness is a very expensive proposition.

In part 3 of this series, we’ll look at what this means for operations.

Projecting power with the F-35 (part 1): How far can it go?

One of the ironies of the current debate about how Australia should adjust its military strategy in light of the changing great-power balance in the Indo-Pacific is that many of the participants—regardless of their views on the future of US military power—make similar recommendations, namely, that Australia should seek greater defence self-reliance.

This would be achieved by capability solutions based largely on ‘more of the same’. That is, to meet an increasingly uncertain strategic environment, our future force structure should be built around more of the things we already have, or are getting, such as F-35A joint strike fighters and submarines (even if some advocate different submarines from the ones we’ll eventually get under the current plan).

So it’s important to understand those systems and their limitations to see what additional capability more of them would provide. Since Australia and its region are geographically far-flung, and we have only a small number of military assets, we’ll focus on their ability to maintain a presence over large distances. The key question is, to what extent do the capabilities the Australian Defence Force is acquiring enable Australia to project power and what would further enhance that power projection?

We’ll start with the F-35A. Defence is in the process of acquiring 72, with potentially some more down the track. The F-35A is now a very capable aircraft, but it still faces the old problem that, no matter how good a military platform is, it can’t be in two places at once. And due to the inherent limitations of fighter aircraft, there are a lot of places they can’t be at any time.

Most Australians’ experience of aviation involves getting on a passenger jet in a major Australian airport and getting off on another continent, say in Los Angeles, Dubai or Tokyo. But those kinds of ranges are vastly greater than what modern fighter aircraft can achieve. This is a characteristic of all fighters; the F-35A has pretty good range in comparison to its peers.

The air force’s website lists the F-35A range at 2,200 kilometres, which is how far it can fly in a straight line. That doesn’t get the aircraft from the RAAF’s main fighter base at Williamtown in NSW to Perth (3,363 km) or Darwin (3,108 km). But since you want the pilot and aircraft to get home from the mission, its combat radius of 1,093 km is a more meaningful number than range.

There are three radii that are useful to consider in the context of the F-35A: they are (roughly) 500 km, 1,000 km and 1,500 km. The one that is most appropriate depends on the mission and how many resources Defence is able to apply to achieve it.

The ‘owner’s manual’ radius of the F-35A is essentially 1,000 km with a little margin built in to take into account real-world factors. What does that look like in the vast distances of the Indo-Pacific or the blue continent of the South Pacific? The map below is based on one developed by my ASPI colleague Malcolm Davis. The red rings represent the F-35A’s combat radius operating from the six mainland airbases in Australia’s north: Darwin, Townsville, Amberley, the bare bases at Curtin and Learmonth in Western Australia, and Scherger on Queensland’s Cape York Peninsula.

Figure 1: 1,000-kilometre combat radius from northern Australian bases

So, 1,000 km doesn’t project very far out into the vast distances of the Indo-Pacific. It doesn’t even get very far out into our South Pacific backyard. At least from our northern bases we can cover our immediate approaches. However, the RAAF couldn’t operate all those rings simultaneously with the three squadrons on order (and a fourth made up of the Super Hornet, or whatever replaces it).

But 1,000 km doesn’t include fuel to stay on station, so while it may be helpful for understanding range for a strike mission (fly out, launch ordnance, fly home), it’s not a useful number for missions where the aircraft have to loiter—for example, protecting a deployed maritime or amphibious task force, or providing close air support to land forces. The more time on station, the less range.

Moreover 1,000 km isn’t necessarily a representative number for air-to-air combat in which fuel consumption increases exponentially as the aircraft accelerates to combat speed or uses afterburners. In short, an F-35A that flies out 1,000 km and fights enemy aircraft probably isn’t going to make it home, so a 500 km combat radius might be more accurate when it comes to an air defence role or one that requires some time on station.

Figure 2: 500-kilometre combat radius from northern Australian bases

That makes a big difference. There are now gaps between the red rings, even if we could operate in each of those rings simultaneously. And the longer you want the aircraft to loiter on station, the smaller that radius becomes.

Moreover, it’s difficult for the F-35A to sustain a continuous presence over any land mass outside of the continent, which means a maritime task force could only be protected if it was operating very close to the Australian mainland, or, in the case of an amphibious task force, if it was seeking to deploy its land component actually on Australian soil.

Of course, this analysis doesn’t take air-to-air refuelling into account. In part 2, I’ll examine how tankers change the picture.

The five-domains update

Sea state

A video of a near collision between a Russian destroyer and US Navy cruiser has been released by the US Navy. It’s unclear where the incident occurred. Russia says the encounter happened in the East China Sea, but the US says the two ships were in the Philippine Sea. While Russia claims the US warship was responsible for the near collision, a picture taken by a US military aircraft analysed by ASPI’s Malcolm Davis shows that the Russian destroyer Admiral Viongradov deliberately manoeuvred towards USS Chancersville.

Brazil has agreed to transfer its four German-made Tupi-class submarines to Argentina. Brazil is modernising its fleet of submarines and has plans to start building its first nuclear-powered submarine in the mid-2020s. The transfer of Brazilian submarines is a positive development for the Argentine Navy, which lost 44 submariners in a deadly accident in 2017. But safety concerns are likely to resurface as the four Brazilian submarines are not operational and will need to be repaired and refurbished before entering Argentine service.

Flight path

The US has given Turkey until July to cancel its order of the Russian S-400 missile defence system. Failure to do so will see Turkey removed from the F-35 program and Turkish suppliers will be replaced by other companies by 2020. Turkey’s exit from the program is likely to delay F-35 deliveries. In April, Vice Admiral Mat Winter told Congress that the removal of Turkey would put more stress on F-35 production lines.

Spatial disorientation has been blamed for the crash of a Japanese Air Self-Defense Force F-35A in April.  The report from Japanese officials comes just days after the pilot’s remains were recovered off the coast of northeastern Japan. The aircraft itself hasn’t been found, but the search for it has been called off. There are reports that Russia and China could try to locate the missing aircraft for intelligence purposes.

For the first time, two Vietnamese pilots have finished the aviation leadership program in the US, a one-year course run by the US Air Force. Defence ties between Vietnam and the US have increased significantly since US President Barack Obama’s visit to Hanoi in 2016. Vietnam is expected to take delivery of several Boeing ScanEagle drones and Beechcraft T-6 Texan II trainer aircraft by 2022.

Rapid fire

Brigadier General Laura Yeager will become the first woman to command a US Army infantry division when she takes command of the 40th Infantry Division on 29 June. Yeager will move from her current position as the commander of the Joint Task Force North, US Northern Command. She has previously served as a UH-60 Black Hawk pilot and was deputy commander of the California National Guard’s 40th Combat Aviation Brigade during her deployment in Iraq. ‘As a female, I have found the military to provide opportunities and benefits unmatched by any profession’, Yeager said.

As Britain prepared to commemorate the 75th anniversary of D-Day last week, its chief of general staff warned that the British military risks becoming ‘irrelevant’ in future warfare if it fails to modernise. General Sir Mark Carleton-Smith said the outcomes of warfare will be increasingly determined by ‘software and artificial intelligence’ rather than ‘hardware’ and that an ‘urgent reappraisal of how, with what and by whom war is waged in the future’ is needed. The comments were made at the annual RUSI Land Warfare Conference in London.

Final frontier

NASA has released a commercialisation strategy for the International Space Station. Commercial activities must be connected to NASA’s mission, promote the sustainable advancement of the low-earth orbit economy or make use of the ISS’s unique microgravity environment. The strategy includes a commercial use policy which provides a pricing schedule for transporting cargo to and from the station and services at the station. Part of the plan will allow companies to use a docking port to attach commercial modules. The strategy, including policies and pricing, is open for industry feedback.

United Technologies and Raytheon plan to merge to create an ‘aerospace and defense giant’ worth US$121 billion. The new conglomerate would span aerospace and commercial aviation and defence procurement to create an ‘aerospace powerhouse’. US President Donald Trump has criticised the planned merger, which could raise the cost of US military procurement. The plan will come under scrutiny from American antitrust regulators.

Wired watchtower

The New South Wales auditor-general says universities in the state are highly vulnerable to cyberattacks. The report comes less than a week after it was found hackers stole the personal information of thousands of students and staff at the Australian National University. The report calls for significant improvements in security policies and IT controls, and notes that universities have been slow to implement key recommendations outlined in previous audits. Charles Sturt University was found to be at high risk of having sensitive data stolen, though the university disputes the report’s finding.

The US National Security Agency has issued an advisory warning Microsoft Windows users of a flaw that could make them vulnerable to cyberattacks. Operating systems including Windows 7 are at higher risk of automated attacks and malware that can give hackers complete control of a computer system. While the advisory is not linked to any specific threat, Microsoft has told users to update their software immediately.

Buddy, can you spare some spares? Sustainment challenges for the F-35

The big news in Australia’s joint strike fighter project in the past year was the arrival of the first two F-35s at RAAF Williamtown in December. Australian-owned aircraft have been operating for several years in the United States, but they’ve never been based here in Australia before.

The international picture is also positive. All three US services, each operating a different variant of the F-35, have declared initial operating capability. The US Marine Corps and Air Force have deployed squadrons overseas. US military leaders have testified that the JSF has achieved kill ratios of over 20 to 1 in exercises and completed missions that were well beyond the ability of fourth-generation aircraft.

It’s been a long journey, starting in Australia’s case with the government’s decision in 2002 to identify the JSF as the preferred future air combat capability. Along the way the program has overcome many hurdles, but there’s still a long way to go until Australia achieves full operational capability in late 2023.

Many military capabilities have entered service with their sustainment systems underdone, and it appears the F-35 will be no exception. In this regard, a report by the US Government Accountability Office makes for sobering reading. Like auditors worldwide, the GAO’s tend to be glass-half-empty people, but their analysis can’t simply be ignored.

The JSF program office is responsible for meeting the sustainment requirements of all participants in the multinational program, and Lockheed Martin is responsible for managing the supply chain. The global JSF support concept is essentially a military analogy of the modern Amazon-style just-in-time logistics concept that we’ve all become used to in our daily lives.

In principle, this approach has benefits. Why shoulder the cost of having a warehouse at Williamtown full of expensive spares like radars when the ADF may on average need only a handful each year? If you can get one at short notice whenever you need it from a warehouse in Guam or Belgium or Turkey, being part of a pooled approach saves money and makes financial sense.

But for it to make operational sense, the system has to work with the speed and reliability we have come to expect from Amazon and similar providers. And that’s where the JSF program is falling down.

The GAO highlights a number of areas in which major improvements are needed.

A fundamental area is simple management. Under the support concept, all spares in the global pool are owned by the US Department of Defense. But the state of the department’s logistics systems means that it doesn’t know what spares it needs, what spares it has, where the spares are, what individual spares cost, or what it is paying overall for sustainment. Despite one of the main selling points of the JSF being its autonomic logistics information system (ALIS), which promised to integrate mission planning, support and supply chain management, much of the JSF’s sustainment is still conducted through traditional, manual paperwork. It’s a far cry from Amazon.

At the moment, there’s no way for individual nations to get around this by stockpiling their own spares. The US Defense Department assigns spares to participants according to priority, and highest priority is given to units that are in combat or on operations. That makes sense, but even that is working far from perfectly. Packages of spares to support deployments have to be ordered two to three years in advance and, based on recent US Marine Corps deployments, 44% of the spares taken on deployment turned out to be incompatible with the aircraft they were meant to go on.

The target date for military depots to have the ability to repair parts has moved from 2016 to 2024. Until then, they need to go back to the original supplier for repair. Similarly, the distribution network to move parts between users around the world also won’t be fully up and running until 2024.

What does this mean in terms of capability? The F-35A, which Australia is acquiring, is the best performing of the jet’s three variants. But it’s still not great. From May to November 2018, the F-35A achieved a 47% air vehicle availability rate, a metric ‘that measures the percentage of time during which aircraft are safe to fly, available for use by units, and able to perform at least one tasked mission’.

But it has only achieved a 34% full mission capable rate, which measures the percentage of time that aircraft with units ‘are fully capable of accomplishing all tasked missions’. The targets for the two metrics are 75% and 60%, respectively. While parts shortages aren’t the only reason aircraft are unable to fly, it’s the reason 30% of the time. The target is 10%.

Incidentally, for those (like me) who think that Australia should acquire at least some F-35Bs (the short take-off and vertical landing variant), note that they have only achieved a 16% full mission capable rate. (Although that hasn’t stopped the US Marines from declaring initial operating capability.)

What does this mean for Australia? The table below presents the increase in flying hours in Australia’s program. Each year to date, the program has fallen short of the target. That’s typical for new capabilities being introduced into service, and it hasn’t necessarily been by much, so that’s not too worrying. But on the steep ramp up to full operational capability, there will need to be a sixfold increase over the four years from 2018–19 to 2022–23.

 

With Defence pumping nearly $2.5 billion a year (page 109) into acquisition of aircraft, it seems likely it will get its 72 F-35As on schedule. But if it has to compete with militaries across the world for spares provided by a supply chain that’s still a long way from functioning like a well-oiled machine, it seems reasonable to ask whether the air force will be able to fly those aircraft as much as necessary to convert pilots en masse from the Hornet.

If the supply chain and ALIS aren’t working well in peacetime, they’ll have to get a lot better to be robust enough to function in wartime. Not only will they become a prime target for cyberattacks, but consumption of spares will soar, putting greater pressure on the system. If the US, by far the biggest consortium member, is fighting a war, spares for our air force could become very sparse indeed.

Lightnings over Delamere

One of Australia’s greatest but least known military assets is the Delamere weapons range in the Northern Territory. It’s a large range located around 120 kilometres south of Katherine and RAAF Base Tindal. As the main air weapons range used by the RAAF, and with little or no civilian presence nearby, it’s the ideal playground for fighter pilots flying fast jets who want to ‘feel the need for speed’ and practise dropping live ordnance.

Delamere is not just used by the RAAF but is open to Australia’s close allies. And it’s not just a place for fast jets, but is also visited by heavy bomber platforms from the US Air Force like the B-52 and the B-1B. It plays a vital role in airpower exercises such as the biennial Pitch Black and Arnhem Thunder.

Its use should be significantly expanded as the F-35 Lightning comes into service with the RAAF and allied air forces.

The facility was described by a RAAF range safety officer:

Delamere is undoubtedly the premier air weapons range in Australia; all Aussie aircrew as well as visiting ones acknowledge that. The fact that we can provide the facilities we do and have virtually unrestricted airspace provides terrific training value for them.

The absence of human settlement over a vast area means that live ordnance—like freefall and guided bombs, aircraft cannon and rocket pods—can be used, including against fake townships (known as ‘Tac Town’ and made up of shipping containers). USAF bomber crews can train under realistic conditions; the missions they’ve conducted have included flying non-stop from Guam to strike at targets in Delamere, and then returning to base, with in-flight refuelling en route both ways.

One of the most important aspects of the Delamere range is that it’s also fully instrumented, which enhances range safety during missions. The instrumented range means that bombing can be monitored for accuracy and effectiveness against a variety of targets, and post-attack analysis can be done in high fidelity to consider how to improve tactical capability.

In addition, simulated threats can be exercised. For example, the fire control radar emissions of various adversary fixed and mobile ground-based air defence systems can be simulated, increasing the realism of training. This obviously has benefits for operational experience, as well as allowing planned missions to be practised before they’re flown. Testing models of systems in a real-world environment also contributes to greater understanding of red-force capability.

Delamere remains a well-kept defence secret, and one wonders if this is deliberately so. It will take federal government leadership to grasp the alliance and regional security value that will come from making these training facilities the hub of Asia–Pacific F-35 operational excellence. We should grab this opportunity.

With that in mind, how do we make better use of facilities like Delamere?

The introduction of the F-35A Lightning II joint strike fighter into RAAF service from late 2018, with full operational capability of all 72 aircraft due by 2024, adds a new opportunity for developing Delamere for greater cooperative training with key allies in the Indo-Pacific region and beyond.

Practising similar and dissimilar air combat training operations—for example, our F-35s flying alongside F-35s from the Japanese Air Self-Defense Force, the Republic of Korea Air Force, and the US Navy and US Marine Corps, as well as the USAF—under realistic conditions would be a valuable operational boost for all partners. It could also help strengthen defence cooperation between partners such as South Korea and Japan. For other F-35 operators, like the UK and Singapore, that lack adequate weapons ranges and must operate in constrained airspace, the wide-openness of the Northern Territory would have real appeal.

Delamere, together with Bradshaw Field, and the Woomera test range further south, should be seen as key capabilities for defence diplomacy as Australia seeks to strengthen defence partnerships with its Five Eyes allies, and other key partners such as Japan, Singapore and Indonesia.

Australia does conduct major international exercises such as Pitch Black and Talisman Sabre on an annual or biennial basis, but it’s time to go beyond that approach and develop a more regular drumbeat of exercises that make full use of Delamere.

We could conduct regular multinational exercises similar to the USAF’s ‘Red Flag’ exercises, with Delamere and Bradshaw Field the focus of air operations. The Red Flag exercises are run over two weeks several times a year. An Australian equivalent run out of RAAF Tindal and Darwin, focusing on F-35 operators, and practising fifth-generation airpower and multi-domain network-centric air operations, would link well with the recently announced arrangements for F-35 maintenance and sustainment.

Additional exercises could practise ‘fifth to fourth’ operations between the F-35, F-22 and fourth-generation platforms like the F/A-18F and E/A-18G as well as regional partner platforms such as the F-16.

With the announcement of an Australian development of the ‘Loyal Wingman’ unmanned combat air vehicle, it’s easy to see the Delamere range and others like it being the ideal testing ground for practising manned–unmanned teaming and developing UCAV capabilities for the RAAF, and potentially for export.

Finally, the employment of ‘aggressor’ capability designed to fly and fight in a manner similar to possible future adversaries, notably China, should be part of such exercises. The US operates them, as do Japan and the UK. If we want to expand the use of our weapons ranges, operating in a contested airspace, including with aggressor squadrons in the air, is a vital aspect of training.

Too often when we debate the current state, or the future evolution, of defence capability, we focus on platforms—sometimes at the expense of the more intangible command and control aspects. Australia’s vast and sparsely populated outback terrain is an asset in itself that we can promote as we seek to strengthen our defence relations with our key partners, given that we all confront a more dangerous and unpredictable strategic outlook.

Policy, Guns and Money: Avalon Airshow special

This special edition of Policy, Guns and Money is brought to you from the Australian International Airshow at Avalon, Victoria. Avalon is the biggest airshow in the southern hemisphere and is a chance for major aircraft manufacturers and operators to showcase their latest kit.

In this episode, we report on the launch of the Boeing Loyal Wingman project, we talk all things F-35 with the RAAF, we kick the tyres of a RAAF P8 Poseidon, and we hear from Lockheed Martin about the F-35 and Australia in space.

The F-35 and future submarines are smart choices that need better explaining

Columnist Robert Gottliebsen’s frequent articles about the supposed deficiencies of our future combat aircraft and submarines and the implication that this has for our position in the region are often wildly inaccurate.

Take the proposition that Indonesia will have ‘air superiority over northern Australia’ in coming years because they are ‘buying even more lethal Russian aircraft’.

Here’s the reality: the Indonesian Air Force struggles to get its combat aircraft off the ground. Poor-quality purchases mean that Indonesia has fewer than a dozen each of American F-5 and F-16 fighter aircraft along with British Hawk, South Korean T-50 and Russian Su-27 aircraft in fighter and ground attack roles and the Brazilian Super Tucano aircraft in a ground attack role.

That’s six aircraft types from five different countries—a disastrous logistic support recipe for a country with a defence budget one-quarter of Australia’s.

Indonesia is now buying 11 Russian Su-35 Flanker multirole fighter aircraft, which will add further to the burden of maintaining a mixed fleet of aircraft with separate supply lines, different weapons and different sensors.

The Indonesians also have no air-to-air refuelling aircraft and no airborne early warning and control aircraft that coordinate the fighting capabilities of multiple aircraft.

This is a far cry from dominating northern Australian airspace. In fact, the Indonesian Air Force is struggling to maintain a capacity to move troops around its own archipelago, which is why Australia has assisted Jakarta with airframes and maintenance for its C-130 Hercules transport aircraft.

Most Southeast Asian countries that have bought Russian fighter aircraft find that the only long-term use for them is to put them up on sticks in front of bases. No rational decision-making process focused on designing a sensible air force would go Russian.

It seems that there is no story more enjoyable to an Australian audience than to be told that our defence equipment purchases are all duds. Mostly the criticisms are just nonsense, such as the statement from an American general that Gottliebsen is fond of quoting: ‘The F-35 is not built as an air superiority platform. It needs the F-22.’

Contrary to the dogfight scenes in Top Gun, the F-35 will never be looping the loop overhead chasing Russian jets. It’s not designed for that. The F-35 is a stealth platform designed to fight as part of a joint military force bringing multiple capabilities to the scene. Most of the F-35’s ‘kills’ in a future war will never know they were targeted. The aircraft’s stealth capacity is 10 to 15 years ahead of that of the Chinese and Russian jets.

It should be a relief to Australians that successive governments and ministers and the defence establishments of the US, UK, Israel, Japan, South Korea and many others have concluded that the F-35 is far superior to any potential competitor.

Against that evidence, Gottliebsen arrays a persistent group of F-35 critics whose phone calls most journalists have learned not to take. Yes, there have been delays and cost increases as there are in any complex equipment project, but the F-35 is emerging as a superb aircraft.

And now to the submarines. Gottliebsen is impressed that Indonesia is buying three 1,400-tonne Type 209 Chang Bogo-class submarines from South Korea. Since the early 1980s, Indonesia has struggled to keep any of its three small submarines operational. At best, the Indonesian Navy has managed very short deployments.

Australia has an interest in helping Indonesia to develop a capacity to successfully operate submarines in the South China Sea. Three new submarines will help Jakarta police its sovereign interests. It only benefits Australia if Indonesia can control its sea and airspace, knowing what ships and aircraft are moving around the archipelago.

Australia, however, has no use for small, coastal submarines capable of staying underwater for a few days with basic weapons and sensors.

Australia’s future submarines are mind-blowingly expensive and will take a long time to deliver, but claims that the designs are disastrously flawed are just hot air. Nor will Australia face a gap in submarine capability as Gottliebsen claims. The Collins subs, which are formidable weapons, will be upgraded as long planned.

It’s beyond understanding why an Australian Defence Department that’s able to make such sensible decisions on equipment is so chronically unable to explain them. It’s not sustainable to treat Australia’s biggest ever defence investments like secret projects never to be discussed or explained.

In the absence of those explanations, we will continue to be subjected to an endless stream of critical commentary about the F-35 and future submarines that ranges from the mildly plausible to unhinged conspiracy theories. Left unchallenged, this damages our long-term defence and strategic interests.

The story of the Collins submarines offers an important lesson. The boats could never escape the false reputation that they were duds. Defence shouldn’t let a failure to explain its business create the same problems for the F-35 and the future submarines.

The F-35 at sea—not quite déjà vu

The recent revisiting on The Strategist of the arguments around taking the F-35 to sea cast my mind back to the bitter carrier debate of the 1970s and early 1980s. The current discussion certainly doesn’t appear to bring with it the same level of interservice acrimony, political manoeuvring or sheer dirty-trickery that took place back then. Nevertheless, the isolated and zero-sum nature of some of the arguments and counterarguments seems familiar, and it occurs to me that—despite the great strides we’ve made in jointery—the one-dimensional character of our strategic capability planning really hasn’t changed all that much.

The back and forth over combat ranges, weapons loads, sortie rates and the many other comparisons between the different F-35 variants really misses the point. Unless we know what we’ll need our military to do, and precisely what kind of environment it will need to do it in, a comparison of these indicators is pretty academic.

If all we’ll ever want the LHDs to do are flag-waving exercises or moving an amphibious force around within about 400 miles of an established airbase, or in a permissive environment with established sea control, then modifying the LHDs and procuring some F-35B short take-off and vertical landing variants in place of some F-35As probably isn’t worth it. But I don’t know anyone with that level of strategic certainty.

As we enter this new reality of strategic competition, move within the so-called warning time we’ve relied on for so long, and face a strategic environment that is less and less certain, surely flexibility and integration should be the hallmarks of our military capability, especially given our limited force size.

Rather than maintaining a pair of amphibious ships that are good for a very limited number of wartime tasks, we should look to maximise their potential and give future decision-makers a range of options for a variety of circumstances—not to mention helping to complicate the operational environment for any adversary.

Using the ships for a different purpose would of course affect their ability to simultaneously achieve their core amphibious role, but that isn’t a reason to deny ourselves the option. A flexible platform capable of configuration for local air defence, trade protection, strike, close air support, extended ISR (intelligence, surveillance and reconnaissance), massed airborne anti-submarine warfare, and/or amphibious operations is surely better than the one-trick pony we have.

The ability to mix and balance the operational potential of the platforms—limited though they may be—to meet the needs of the day, in a decreasingly predictable environment, would give us an exponentially stronger and more flexible capability over the long term. But despite having (or being about to have) almost all the component parts, or variants thereof, this is not the capability we’ve ended up with. Not even close.

So how did we get here? Despite the procurement of two large and complex LHDs, joint strike fighters and a whole host of other potential force multipliers over the years, we somehow managed to avoid bringing them together in anything resembling a deliberately coordinated capability. It’s tempting to imagine a reality in which our armed reconnaissance helicopters were marinised for LHD operations, our multirole helicopters equipped with automatic folding rotor blades, our tanks capable of being embarked without sinking their landing craft, our new fighters capable of being launched and recovered, and a flight deck with the necessary heat resistance. But, alas, we have none of those things.

Unhappily, although the concept of jointery has progressed significantly since the last carrier debate, our strategic approach to capability remains very much one-dimensional and platform-centric. A key factor here is that our strategic guidance remains broad enough to allow the different services to take their own individual perspective on capability, especially in view of the inherently differing nature of the three strategic defence objectives. As a former chief of navy once said of such guidance, ‘It’s main use was to give each of the services a peg upon which to hang their requests of manpower and equipment, and the language of the document was such that a peg could be found for almost any request.’

So while the professional acrimony that existed between Pritchett, Synnot, Willis, Dunstan, McNamara and others during the debates of the early 1980s is thankfully behind us, the differing strategic beliefs and desires of the services are not. That disjointedness is reflected most starkly in the RAN’s increasing focus on power projection and sea control, while the RAAF remains anchored in its traditional defence of Australia and sea denial doctrine.

And while these differing approaches can all be aligned to the same guidance, the net result is a set of platforms and systems which—while seemingly justified in isolation—don’t provide us with a mutually reinforcing capability beyond the sum of their parts. That’s not to say that they’re not interoperable in the strict sense of the word: many different platforms can communicate and share sensor data, for instance; they’re just not designed to achieve the same strategic objectives.

In the passive regional strategic environment of recent years, we’ve had the luxury of being able to fall back on warning time, the ‘core force’, ‘for but not with’ and other resource-saving measures, and we’ve been able to accommodate this lack of integrated capability. The flip side of that approach, obviously, is that a changed environment requires a more integrated, larger and more potent maritime force.

We should start by examining the force we have, and making the changes needed to transform an assortment of existing but largely disparate systems into the potent power-projection capabilities they should be. And at the capability-planning level, it’s time to step up, set a clear direction and pull some pegs out of the wall.