Tag Archives: militariana

Resurrected Weapons: RUM-125 Sea Lance

Submarines have been a serious threat to shipping since the Great War. Recently, the Russians are putting subs to sea like they did in the Cold War, ready to menace the shipping lanes once more. And submarines are more deadly then ever, with modern torpedoes like the Mk. 48 ADCAP having a range of upwards of twenty seven nautical miles. By detonating under the keel, they can split many ships in half. And, unlike antiship missiles, there aren’t many good ways to deal with torpedoes. You’re basically limited to a few decoy systems. So what’s a surface ship to do? Why, attack the sub, of course. This usually involves helicopters that can drop sonobuoys and dip sonars. They can also drop torpedoes if they find a sub.

What if the surface ship needs to engage a submarine directly? Suppose the helicopter isn’t nearby, or is out of torpedoes, or the surface ship detected the sub with her own sensors? Modern lightweight (read: anti-submarine) torpedoes have a range of anywhere from about five to about twelve nautical miles, depending on what speed setting they’re using. That’s a bit less than half of what the submarine’s torpedoes can do, giving him the shot long before you have it. What other options do we have for engaging?

We could use a rocket to get the torpedo closer before we drop it. If you have Mark 41 VLS cells, you could use the RUM-139 VL-ASROC, which puts a Mk. 46 torpedo about fifteen nautical miles from the launching ship. There are versions available with the more recent Mk. 54 lightweight torpedo, which has a much better seeker. Depending on speed settings, this gives us very nearly the range that the opposing sub has with his torpedo. Detente.

For those of you who’ve forgotten your high school French, or you uncultured swine who never had any, detente is a French word that means “you both get to die”. Yay. Personally, I’d rather not die, and would love to have the range for the first shot given a good sonobuoy contact and no torpedo-equipped helicopters nearby. For this, we come to another casualty of dwindling budgets in the ’90s, the RUM-125B Sea Lance.1

The Sea Lance has a bigger motor and a better inertial navigation system. It still fits in a regular Mk. 41 VLS cell. The RUM-125B was originally specced around the Mark 50 lightweight torpedo, but an enterprising designer could fit most any NATO lightweight torpedo in, since they’re all about the same size. The RUM-125B had a range of thirty five nautical miles, so if you see him first, you can shoot him first, helicopters or no. With a powerful weapon like this, it makes the surface ship a more active participant in the search for subs, rather than just a mothership to provide fuel.

But wait, there’s more. You may be wondering why the designation started with B. It didn’t. B is just the normal, conventional-warhead
model. Throw a torpedo, have it engage. When you really, really want range, when Ivan’s sub just absolutely, positively has got
to die, and when you want to really piss off greenpeace, there’s the RUM-125A. This missile variant can lob a 200 kiloton nuclear depth bomb out to a range of one hundred nautical miles. So you’re probably going to be safe from that blast. Maybe. It’s not very accurate, but then, it doesn’t have to be. This is the mother of all depth charges. Guaranteed to crush hulls, kill marine life, and cause an international incident, or your money back!

That’s not all. There were variants (designated UUM-125A and UUM-125B) that could be launched from submarines. These would get launched from the torpedo tubes in a buoyant capsule that would float to the surface and then launch the missile. It’s a great way to give attack subs a long range punch if they’re aware of a sub threat. Or just want to nuke the whales.

So go ahead, Captain Viktor Tupolev. Push your pissant Alfa-class boat as hard as you want. You’ll only die overheated.

Now, if only Sea Lance would work on those pesky land whales on Twitter.

Verdict: Approved by the Borgundy War Department Procurement Board

1.) Yes, this is a lower designation number. Trust me, it’s more advanced. Or don’t. More for me.
2.) This post is all in nautical miles, because we’re talking about things at sea. If you’re a communist, and prefer metric units, multiply all range figures above by 1.85.

It takes two to tango: why I like single-seat attack helos

Picture your favorite helicopter gunship. I can’t tell you much about it without knowing what it is, but I can tell you one thing: unless you’re a weirdo like me, it has two seats. I do not think this must be so. To explain why is going to take a little detour into the tactical thinking of helicopter pilots, and how that affects the way they’re employed on the battlefield.

Picture yourself as a fixed-wing pilot. You can easily fly above all but the most specialized of ground-based weapons systems. Compared to anything in the dirt, you are extremely fast, so fast that they may as well be standing still. Your bog-standard general purpose bomb is several times more explosive than the largest explosive projectiles commonly hurled by things on the ground. Your precision-guided weapons are more precise, your sensors are better, you can see further. You are as unto a god, or at least a hero of Greek or Norse myth, striking down your foes with the weight of inevitability behind you.

Got that image in your mind? Savor it for a minute. Now forget all about it, because that isn’t how flying a helicopter works at all.

Picture yourself as a helicopter pilot. If you fly high, a plane will shoot you down, or a long-range air defense system. If you fly low, things on the ground a plane would laugh at will shoot at you, and might shoot you down. You are fast, but you aren’t so fast that you can really use it to enhance your survivability. You do not generally carry especially heavy weapons, and your sensors are pretty good, but you aren’t high enough to see a long way. You are certainly not as unto a god. You’re scary, but it’s the kind of scary your adversaries can actually kill.

What does that mean for you, noble helo pilot? How does it shape your doctrine? If you’re looking for a metaphor, the right analogue for a helicopter is not an IFV or a tank. If you’re a helicopter pilot, your mindset is ‘sky infantry’. You keep out of sight, use natural cover, engage quickly before getting out of sight, and generally skulk around in the mud. Just like the infantryman has a pretty bum deal on the ground, the helo pilot has a pretty bum deal in the sky. The only difference is that the helo pilot has someone to look down on.

Why do attack helicopters generally feature two crew? Because there are three jobs in a helicopter, and one person can’t do all three at once. You need to fly the helicopter, which is a difficult task on its own; you need to use the weapons, which often requires going heads-down; you need to keep your eyes up to see threats visually, since a lot of the things that can shoot down a helicopter can only be detected by the Mark I Eyeball1. The pilot can fly and watch, if the gunner is working with the sensors or weapons systems, and the gunner can keep an eye out, if the flying gets especially hard on the pilot. Simply put, each crewman can do about one and a half things simultaneously, and each helicopter has three things you need to do. Perfect coverage.

Mathematically, it looks bad for the single-seat concept. One crewman can do one and a half things. The helicopter has three things that need to be done. Let’s work on bringing those numbers closer together.

First off: we can install an advanced autopilot. We’ll go the Ka-50, the only single-seat attack helicopter ever to see combat service, as our example2. Taking its age into consideration, the Ka-50 has one of the most advanced autopilot systems ever installed in a helicopter. It’s fully capable of flying the helicopter through a noncombat mission from just after takeoff to just before landing, and can take control in nearly every combat situation that doesn’t involve immediate evasive action, or nap of the earth flying. This reduces our list of things to do to two, but we still only have one and a half tasks doable with our single crewman.

How can we fix that? Add a second crewman, but put him in a different airframe. Your helicopters fly in pairs. How many things will we need to do at once? Fly, but the autopilot takes care of that for us. Use weapons, yes, but that’s a shared task: only one helicopter needs to be engaging at a time. That’s one thing between us. Keep an eye out, yes: ideally, both of us should be keeping an eye out, but in a pinch, one pilot can keep an eye out for the whole team. That leaves us two crewman, who together can do three things, and two or three things to do between them (that is, weapons, eyes, eyes, or weapons, eyes).

That’s really all there is to the argument. Additional automation can help reduce the workload further. A fancy threat warning system helps reduce the need for constant lookout, and helps direct pilot attention during the few, emergency situations where the autopilot is insufficient. Better weapons and datalinks allow for off-board targeting, which can be used to move the weapons employment burden around between helicopters. Autopilots with more options yield further reductions in flying workload—a terrain-following radar or lidar, for instance, would give the Ka-50 the ability to fly nap of the earth at high speeds. Better sensors help reduce the time spent heads-down for weapons employment.

I’m nearing my target word count here, so I’ll wrap up with some quick pros and cons. I’ve made a decent argument that a single-seat attack helicopter is a reasonable choice, so why might you prefer one? To start, you have reduced aircrew requirements, and reduced aircrew losses—half of two airframes is one, and half of one airframe is zero. You have a great deal of large-scale tactical flexibility. Since the two-ship element is the basic unit of maneuver, you can choose to advance in bounding overwatch, for instance, or widely separate your eyes from your weapons. Your eyes helo might be just behind solid cover on a ridge outside of enemy engagement range, able to peek and feed coordinates to your weapons helicopter, which might be advancing in concealment much nearer the enemy. In separating eyes and weapons, terrain may sometimes allow a quick attack from two angles in rapid succession, or at entirely the same time. If you have a small number of helicopter pilots, single-seat airframes let you put more into the sky at once. It’s a setup optimized for tankbusting: large targets, relatively easily spotted and shared.

Why might you choose the standard two-seater? It’s better in moderately threat-heavy COIN situations, where the front lines are poorly defined and any territory may become enemy territory. Two-seat helicopters have better small-scale tactical flexibility, and a single two-seat helicopter swing between navigation, evasion, and counterattack much more quickly than a pair of single-seat airframes. For another, two-seaters are tried and tested. Nobody operates a single-seat attack helicopter in any real number today, not because it’s not a workable theory, but because the only modern example entered service well after its technology started down the hill toward obsolescence. Today, you’d have to build your own single-seater, or buy a bunch of Kamovs and refit them, while you can buy Havocs or Cobras or, for that matter, the Ka-52, basically off-the-shelf. Two-seat helicopters have better engagement speed: for a given number of helicopters and a given number of weapons, the two-seaters will distribute their arms faster, because each airframe is a self-contained targeting and shooting unit, not depending on another helicopter for overwatch or targeting data.

That’s about all I have. One of these days, I’ll take a look at the concept, and come up with some justifications for why Luchtburg might choose a single-seat helo.

1. Or the Mark II Eyeball, also known as the missile launch warning system.
2. The Ka-50 is outmoded in today’s market, but if you look at its competitors in late 80s, when it first appeared on the scene, it’s a much closer case, and depends mainly upon some tactical considerations I’ll get into later.

Milspec Challenge

Here’s one that came from Fishbreath. I’m a big AR-15 guy, and he suggested I spec one out as if I was going to issue it. So here goes. An issue AR-151, Parvusimperator-style.

We’ll start with the receivers. Both upper and lower receivers should be forged from 7075-T6 aluminum. Forged to keep it simple. The forging process is cheaper than the billet manufacturing process, and marginally stronger. Win-win. We’ll focus on the lower receiver and its components first.

The trigger group is a safe/semiautomatic/fully-automatic one. The AR-15 trigger group allows for a three-position selector without some serious modifications. The reader might wonder, ‘why not three round burst?’ My response is ‘why bother?’ The three round burst is the latest in a long line of devices designed at the urging of girly-man bean counters to force soldiers to not “waste ammo”. In the 1870s, the US Army didn’t issue the Winchester repeating rifles to the cavalry because the soldiers might waste ammo. Bolt action rifles around the turn of the 20th century had a magazine cut off, because soldiers might waste magazine after magazine of bullets. Both decisions were proven wrong. Discipline must be taught; it cannot be enforced by weapons. You might not always need ammunition, or fully automatic fire, but when you do, you really need it. So safe/semi/auto is the trigger group we’ll use. We’ll also specify an ambidextrous selector switch.

The receiver extension should be 1.14 inches in diameter, and should have six position detents on the underside. This part may also be called the “buffer tube” but it’s better to think of it as an extension to the receiver that gives more room for the bolt carrier to decelerate. It should be held in place by properly-staked castle nut. This will ensure that the castle nut will not back out on it’s own, but can be removed by an armorer if necessary. In terms of buffer internals, we’ll use chrome silicon wire springs (something like the Springco Blue model extra power spring) and an H32 weight buffer.

As for the stock, we’re going for the Crane3 SOCOM-pattern stock. This is heavier and sturdier than the standard collapsible stock, and comes with two waterproof storage compartments. These are perfect for storing batteries for the various issue electrics that will get attached to the carbine, as well as small bottles of lubricant to keep the gun running. It’s a convenient place to store some lubricant to make sure it’s available when needed.

There are a few other gubbins we need to specify. We’ll specify an ambi bolt catch and an ambi mag catch. Installing these in a convenient manner will take some reworking of the lower, but it can be done. Knight’s Armament and several of the fancy billet receiver companies have already done this. I’m not overly particular about most other small parts. Appropriate aluminum pins, etc. are fine. The one other thing to call out is the pistol grip. I hate the A2-type grip, so that’s right out. It’s too small and it has a pointless nubbin in a stupid place. Fortunately, there are lots of alternatives out there, and almost all of them are better. I’m a fan of the TangoDown BG-16 grip, as it fits the hand better and doesn’t have a stupid nubbin on the front in the wrong place, so let’s go with that.

That takes care of the lower. Onto the upper. We’re going to call for a 14.5″ barrel. Why 14.5″? Because it’s a military standard with lots of available data, and it’s shorter and handier than a 20″. This is a general issue carbine, so barrel length is going to be a compromise. Plus, that hot deathray M855A1 ammunition is designed around a 14.5″ barrel. It will have a 1:7 twist rate4 and a lightweight profile. Why a lightweight profile? Because I don’t see a point to anything heavier. A lightweight barrel was perfect for full-auto ambush drills in Vietnam. A lightweight barrel will take something like 900 rounds before it fails, and that’s if you reload as fast as you can and never stop firing. That’s about three times a basic ammo load for the average soldier. This is more than adequate for a select fire carbine. It’s not a support weapon built for sustained automatic fire. The barrel should be made of 4150 chrome molybdenum steel. And yes, Virginia, it will have a chrome lining.

The gas system should be a carbine-length one, or about seven inches from the receiver to the gas block. Again, this is the standard on a 14.5″ barreled gun. The gas block should be a low-profile unit held onto the barrel with a pair of taper pins. This is the most secure method of securing a gas block to a barrel. It should also have a bayonet lug at the front, since the length is right for a bayonet. And bayonet fighting teaches a lot of good things to troops, plus it’s occasionally very useful on the battlefield. Just ask the British. For they bayonet lug to work, the gas block has to be as long as a front sight block, but this isn’t hard to do.

For handguard, we actually want a 9″ long unit, even though our specified gas system is only 7″ long. This will cover most of our low profile gas block, giving us more room for a grip and accessories, but still let us access the bayonet lug. We want a quadrail handguard, because picatinny rails are the standard accessory mount. There are some alternatives out there, namely keymod and mlok, but they don’t totally replace the picatinny rail. We see no reason to adopt two mounting systems, so we’ll stick with the picatinny. I went back and forth quite a bit on which handguard design to call out here. I’m rather fond of the notion of a monolithic design, where the rail and upper are one continuous piece. However, this is generally heavy, and doesn’t let us change the handguard out at all. One of the joys of the AR design is just how modular it is. We’re using a very different handguard design than my father would have found on an AR-15, and we’d like our sons to be able to apply their own wisdom. So let’s skip the monolith, cool though it might be. We want a durable design though, and since we’re covering our gas block, we’ll need something tube-style, i.e. free float. No mall ninjas, we’re not getting a free floated barrel for accuracy benefits. It’s a service carbine. Don’t kid yourself–no one cares about tiny group improvements. We just need it to work with our gas block system. We’ll take the Daniel Defense DDM4 rail, in the 9″ length. This is an off the shelf product, just like everything else on our list. It’s lightweight, sturdy, and easy to install. It will still let us access the bayonet lug, but give us plenty of room for lights and lasers as needed. It also has quick detach sling swivel sockets built in, which is convenient. Saves us a part.

So far, so good. There are a few more notes that we’ll make for the upper. The muzzle device should be a three-pronged-style flash hider, since these seem to work the best. It should also be a suppressor adapter. Since we haven’t specified a suppressor, we won’t specify a muzzle device. But a good example would be the Surefire SF3P, which would work with Surefire’s excellent line of suppressors.

You may have guessed we’ll be using a “flat-top” or “A3-style” upper receiver, and you’d be right. That’s prime optic mounting real estate. And we’ll have the standard folding dust cover on there too. Yawn. Tell me something interesting, you say? Fine. We’re specifying our uppers to not have a forward assist. Why? Because it’s a stupid, useless, protruding, weight-adding piece of junk. Get rid of it. It makes the design simpler. It makes the design lighter. It’s how Stoner originally intended it to be. And stupid Army was wrong to insist on such a device. If you’re in a situation where you need to force the bolt closed, then your gun is FUBAR, and unsafe to use. Any case so screwy that you have to force it into the chamber because the buffer spring won’t do the job has no business in your gun. Yes, you can force a fucked-up, bulged case into an M1903, M1 Garand, or M14, but that doesn’t make it a good idea. Or even a military requirement. The M1918 BAR has no such capability, but troops loved the BAR all the same. Look, when both John Moses Browning and Gene M. Stoner don’t think it’s needed, it’s not needed.

Didn’t see that coming, did you?

Now for the guts of the rifle. But first, the charging handle. Surprise, the stock one is fine. It doesn’t need ambi anything. It’s already ambi. It’s on top of the freaking gun, for crying out loud. Fine as is.

Anyway, the guts. Or, more specifically, the bolt carrier group. We’re going to call out somewhat nonstandard parts here. No, we’re not going to retrofit a piston. There’s already one there. It’s inside the carrier, you dumb idiot. We’re going to use a specialty bolt carrier and bolt, specifically the Lewis Machine and Tool Enhanced Bolt Carrier and Enhanced Bolt. Why? Well, let’s take a look at our system, here. We have a shorter gas system length than Stoner originally specified, so we’re getting more gas pressure than Stoner originally designed around. The M193 ammunition that was originally used had an average chamber pressure of 52,000 psi. But we’re calling for something like M855A1, which takes advantage of more consistent modern powders to increase the average chamber pressure to 63,000 psi, which of course means more gas pressure for the system. Plus, we like suppressors, which means yet more gas pressure. What does all this gas pressure mean? Well, it means we’ve got more velocity on the bolt, which increases the likelihood that the bolt will try to unlock to early, which puts a shear and bending load on the bolt lugs. Surprise, this is bad for bolt life. The Enhanced Bolt Carrier has more vents and a revised cam path to reduce pressure and slow unlocking of the bolt. The revised bolt has a different extractor, using two springs instead of one, which is designed to give longer spring life. The lugs are redesigned for added strength as well. The end result is a longer-lasting system. Plus it’s a slightly not-stock part, so I’m not just picking a rifle off the rack here and calling it good.

So how is the rifle issued? Well, it comes with an issued optic, which we haven’t chosen yet. But there will be an optic. There will be a two-point, quick-adjust sling. More convenient than a standard carry strap type sling that your grandfather had on his M1 Garand. There are three rail panels issued. I prefer the Tango Down units, but the exact model isn’t very important. Just something so that the picatinny rail doesn’t cut your hands up after lots of campaigning. The rifle is also issued with a set of folding back up iron sights. Specifically the Troy industries M4-style front and their standard (non-dioptic) rear sight. The rear sight is “A1 style”, i.e. it’s has two apertures, but is not adjustable for elevation. Nor should it be. It should be durable and simple. It should be zeroed and kept safely in reserve. It should not be complicated. It is a backup sight on a carbine, not iron sights on a National Match rifle. Keep it simple.

The carbine is issued with iron sights and optic fitted and properly zeroed. Since we’re not dumb, our weapons racks are designed to hold the carbines with optics mounted, so soldiers can trust that the carbine they draw from storage has a good zero.

Some of you may be wondering what I would do if you made me get an AR-15 that I couldn’t piece together as above. What if you had to buy something off a shelf, all-up, Parvusimperator? Simple. I’d call Knight’s Armament Corporation, and ask if they give a bulk discount on large carbine orders. So there. Smartass.

1.) I’ll be using AR-15 as the generic term here, so as not to sound like I’m specifying brand or model details. Also, the AR-15 designation came first.
2.) 5.6 oz weight.
3.) NSWC Crane designed, produced by LMT and B5 Systems.
4.) I.e. one complete rotation in seven inches of travel

Squad Support Weapons

Ack, the board has become overrun with Taflmen. Thanks a lot, Fishbreath. Fortunately for you, dear reader, I have just the solution:

Underneath our starry flag, Civilize ’em with a Krag!
And return us to our own beloved home.

Wait, no, wrong century. Krags are rather old fashioned. What about more modern weapons? Well, we’ve already opted for the kickass HK 416 for general issue carbine. Let’s look at what our soldiers have in terms of lightish support weapons.

We’ve established an eight man dismount squad, nominally comprised of two fireteams of four. Let’s talk basis of issue of some support weapons. We’ll also flesh out a few more choices.

We’ve established our choices of rocket launchers and anti-tank missiles in the Panzerfaust 3 and the FGM-148 Javelin, and will not repeat the reasoning here. In any case, we’ll call for one Javelin CLU and one PzF 3 computerized Dynarange sighting unit per squad. In general, we’d expect two Javelin missiles and two Panzerfaust 3 rockets, some combination of the PzF 3T anti-tank rocket and the PzF 3B demolition rocket. This is some of the joy of a mechanized force: the IFV can carry the weapons when you don’t need them.

We’ll also allocate each fireteam one underbarrel grenade launcher. This needn’t be carried all the time, but it’s a quick way to give the squad some indirect firepower. For underbarrel grenade launcher, we want something that needs nothing beyond a picatinny rail for a mounting solution. Our choice is the HK AG36. It’s a 40mm grenade launcher that is as modular as we need, plus it has a sideways-opening break action that lets it accomodate longer specialty 40mm rounds. And yes, it attaches to picatinny rails.

You’re probably waiting for the machine gun choice though. Every squad needs a machine gun. Or two. Or three, even. We’re going with two, one per fireteam. Again, nothing surprising here. Now we ought to choose a machine gun. There are many to choose from, but first we ought to determine the caliber. Nato-wise, we’ve got 7.62x51mm and 5.56x45mm. All of the advantages of the smaller, lighter round are apparent. Troops carry more, full stop. But this is a mechanized army, and this brings a wrinkle. The CV90, like nearly all other self-respecting IFVs, has a 7.62mm coaxial machine gun, and provision for several hundred rounds of 7.62mm ammunition in belts. The infantry, of course, have 5.56mm carbines, but those operate with “loose”1 5.56mm ammunition in magazines. So, with a 5.56mm squad automatic weapon, we have three kinds of small arms cartridges to ship, according to the logistics tables: 5.56mm magazines, 5.56mm link, and 7.62mm link. If we go with 7.62mm, we drop this down to two kinds, plus the infantry can share ammo with the coax. One big pool of reserve ammo. So we’ll go with this.

Now, the question becomes, which 7.62mm NATO machine gun to choose? Here, weight becomes an important factor. There are lots of excellent, big, heavy machine guns out there, built for lots of abuse and sustained fire. Chief among them is the excellent FN MAG 58.2 This is our coaxial- and pintle-mounted gun of choice, but it weighs 11.79 kg (about 26 lbs). Nicely accessorized with modern rails and a heat shield in the M240B variant brings us up to 12.5 kg (27.6 lbs). Both weights are unloaded and without optics, and we can see how it’s hard for a MAG gunner to move with his squadmates. He can’t assault positions very well. There is a lightened version available, the M240L, which uses expensive titanium parts to cut weight, and manages to get under 10 kg (21.8 lb) if you reduce the barrel length to about 20″ and use a collapsible stock.

Can we do better? Sure, provided we give up some durability for lots of sustained fire. And this is ok for our needs. Remember, this is for the squad automatic weapon. It’s not for sustained fire from a vehicle or a weighted tripod. It’s for support of the close attack. Fire and movement. Plus, the IFV is going to be a better base of fire anyway. The Russians have a superlight machine gun in the PKM, which comes in at a svelte 7.5 kg (16.5 lbs). But it’s in 7.62x54mm R. The R is for Rimmed, and while archaic, the brilliant Mikhail Kalashnikov used it to his advantage in the feeding mechanism. One might think to convert it to 7.62x51mm Nato, but then we gain wait. The Poles have done this in the UKM-2000, and that weighs almost a full kilo more, coming in at 8.4 kg (18.5 lbs). Oof. That’s still lighter than the M240L though.

We might think to try the M60, but that comes in around 10.5 kg as well. No better. But SOCOM has some ideas. They had FN scale up the Minimi/M249 light machine gun to take the 7.62mm Nato round. This is the FN Mk. 483, and it fits the bill for a reliable modern 7.62mm machine gun that’s lightweight. SOCOM approved! And it comes in at 8.2 kg (18.3 lbs). Not bad. Beats out the German HK121 as well.

So is that it? Have the Belgians taken the gold? Not quite. There’s still the Israelis to think about. And their Negev NG7 is another scaled-up 5.56mm machine gun. But it’s phenomenally light. Comes in at 7.6 kg. That’s almost PKM weight, and with rails and an adjustable stock to boot. We have our winner. Mazel tov, IWI.

Oh, and if you do have a song celebrating more modern weapons and using those to civilize terrorist scum, drop us an email. Or, write to us at:

c/o This song should have been at Fishbreath’s Wedding
1 Parvusimperator Way
Imalwaysright PA, 16046

1.) I.e. unbelted
2.) You may be more familiar with the American version, the M240.
3.) Not to be confused with the Mk 48 torpedo.

Mechanized Infantry Squads and Platoons

Let’s have a little fun with some military theory. How do we define a squad?

A squad can be thought of in a few ways. We tend to think of a squad as a basic combat unit, commanded by a single man. Working out span of command issues is a royal pain. Since we’re trying to keep this firmly academic, and since we don’t have a handy lab to test things, we’ll use a simple litmus test: the sports field. For example, American football tends to put eleven men on the field at a time per side. We’ll neatly sidestep any attempt to be dragged into discussions of a heap problem here, and simply check for a sport example as we work on numbers.

Our sports litmus test provides some nice options for us. Since this a mechanized squad, it’s important to think about the parent vehicle as well. Most IFVs hold six or seven men. We’ll take the lower figure, being cynical sorts. It’s also not especially clear what the CV9035’s capacity is; this tends to vary from six to eight based on configuration. Regardless, our first thought might be to take the squad as the sum of the dismounts of the vehicle and the crew needed by the vehicle, which gives us a size of nine or ten. This passes our sports litmus test. However, it’s been tried and rejected by several real-world armies. The issue seems to be that the dismount element is too small. We cannot guarantee that we’ll always have the vehicle to work with the dismount team, and given the realities of the battlefield (casualties, people on leave, casualties, people off on training assignments, casualties), the dismount team is likely to be quite a bit smaller in practice. We’d have to combine dismount teams across vehicles anyway, so we may as well formalize the organization and give the men practice at working together and rapidly forming up from the dismount.

With that settled, we come back to the question of how big the squad should be. Let’s look at some historical examples, bearing in mind we’ll have to fit them into to vehicles. The United States Marine Corps squad is probably the most successful, remaining a standard 13 men for over 70 years. This squad is comprised of three fireteams of four men plus one squad leader. This is also the largest squad that I’ve found good historical record of, so we’ll take it as a rough maximum. Give or take one or two is probably ok, since we’re trying to avoid stupid pedantry about heaps, but much bigger is probably a bad idea if we’re still going with the squad paradigm of a single commander. The US Army has had a couple squads since the Second World War. Until the late seventies, the US Army squad was eleven men: one squad leader plus two fireteams of five men each. Afterwards, the squad was revised downward to nine; the fireteams now consisted of four men. This reduction in size may have been to deal with reduced manpower in the wake of the end of conscription, or to better fight in vehicles.

Both the US Army and the USMC favored keeping the squad leader separate from the fireteams he commands, but not all armies saw it that way. Both the British and the Germans favored keeping the squad leader as an organic component of one of the fireteams. He functions as both squad leader and fireteam leader. The British Army of World War II featured a ten-man squad, though this was before they hammered out the four man fireteam concept. It has since been reduced to eight, again featuring two fireteams of four. During World War II, the Wehrmacht moved from a twelve man squad to a ten and eventually a nine man squad for reasons of dwindling manpower. They tended to feature an asymmetric, ad hoc grouping of machine gun(s) and assistant gunner(s) in one team and the riflemen in another. But we can note that most nations by now have moved to the four man fireteam, and then the squad is some multiple thereof. The Germans also use eight man squads now, usually.

Why the four man fireteam? Well, we might think about how small a team we can get in combat and be useful. One man is entirely too vulnerable. We can start with two, but we can quickly see that three men is a much more useful standard. More support, ability to work with the vast majority of crew served weapons, plus the ability to take a casualty and still be at least semi functional. Several forces have used the three man ‘cell’ as the basis of squad organization. The problem is that it doesn’t take casualties well, and will force frequent reorganization. Four men teams work better in terms of absorbing inevitable casualties, and this is borne out by the historical record. The Marine squad was originally a copy of the circa 1938 Chinese organization of a leader and three cells of three, but inevitable combat casualties forced them to add a fourth man to each team. More than four likely causes more difficulties for low-level, often improvised span-of-command, and doesn’t quite add enough to justify the trouble and logistical expense. The Rhodesian Light Infantry usually used four man squads, since this was all they could fit on their Alouette helicopters. They found this adequate for single taskings and tended not to remain in the field after multiple contacts, so the lack of casualty resistance wasn’t an issue. Fine for COIN, perhaps, but less than ideal for, say, Guadalcanal.

The question now becomes two or three fireteams, and whether we want the squad leader to be a part of a fireteam. We can see a generally downward trend in squad size, with the exception of the USMC squad. The USMC is still a light infantry force, which is to say they march to combat. Most other armies have to deal with some proportion of troops that have to fit in APCs or IFVs for their transport , and armored vehicle capacity isn’t very good, especially once you factor in all the equipment modern have and the body armor that they wear. So let’s return vehicle capacity.

We’ve opted for the CV9035. The CV90 family is highly configurable as we’ve seen. One of the choices is how you configure the interior. Depending on choices for internal layouts, seating arrangements of six, seven, or eight are available. We’ll make whatever internal stowage or secondary systems sacrifices are needed to have eight dismounts, which neatly dovetails with a pair of standard, four-man fireteams. Given that the CV90 is about as big as a PzKpfw VI Tiger I, I don’t see that too much would need to go to accommodate the seats. As we’ll soon see, this means we can have fewer vehicles per platoon, which is a nice win for cost and maintenance. We’ll settle for strapping things to the outside if we must.

Eight man squads also clearly pass our sports rule of thumb check. One fewer than the baseball grouping of nine is very good. From a bureaucratic/cohesion standpoint, we might want to count the IFV and vehicle crew as part of the squad, and expect the dismounts to help with maintenance. In this case, we have eleven men in the squad, which is the requisite men on the field for American football. We’re good regardless of how we break this down.

Accepting an eight-man (dismount) squad, with integrated squad leader, would let us have three squads in a platoon with only three vehicles, rather than the four that the US Army mechanized platoon has for its nine-man squads. We could conceivably go up to four squads, but that’s a more unwieldy platoon for the young lieutenant. As it is, he can opt to give each squad an IFV, or group the IFVs together in a sort of light tank platoon. Here, he has four elements to command, though he might also opt to reorganize the nominally eight man squads, perhaps into two twelve-man units. Squad organization is mostly bureaucratic anyway. Lieutenants are expected to be flexible and aggressive if nothing else.

Later we’ll get to platoon and squad level equipment tables.

Resurrected Weapons: 50mm Supershot

IFVs are great for adding firepower to infantry units. And the standard arms race between gunmakers and armormakers has the added complication that the IFV has to carry some infantry to actually do its job. So, unlike tanks, it gets progressively harder to increase the gun caliber in an IFV if you actually want to carry an appreciable number of shells. One such answer can be found with a little inspiration from wildcat cartridge makers. We can take our regular autocannon round, neck the cartridge out so that it’s a straight-walled cylinder, replace the barrel with a bigger one, and get a more powerful round without sacrificing ammo capacity. The most potent such example was proposed in the 80s, and is known as the 50mm Supershot.

The base round is the 35x228mm autocannon round used in the Bushmaster III chain gun. Figuring that one couldn’t go much larger without serious complications (cf. the CV9040 with the 40mm Bofors and its pitiful ready capacity of 24 rounds), ammo designers in the 80s decided to try to make the 35mm round bigger. Necking it out gives you a diameter of 50mm, so that’s the caliber they went with. The resulting round is somewhat longer though to get the power right, since the rounds are semi-telescoped (i.e. the propellant doesn’t totally surround the round). Way cool. The 50mm Supershot gives the same propellant capacity as the 40mm Bofors round, which is a big plus. It’d be a hard-hitting KE round, and would have the capability to launch a significant amount of high explosive.

Development of the 50mm Supershot stopped with the end of the cold war. That hasn’t stopped us before though. What’s a bigger problem here is actually market forces. First, 35mm is not a very popular cannon round, which means there’s a much smaller pool of potential users to pool development costs and production runs amongst. 35mm is a big round, so those who favor the suppression fires type armaments are going to look elsewhere. Where the CV9030 holds 160 ready rounds of 30x173mm, the CV9035 holds only 70 ready rounds of 35mm. Even those nations who have gone with the 35mm (e.g. the Dutch) are likely to accept that as sufficient for the foreseeable future; the Dutch chose the 35mm as a hedge against uparmored BMP-3s which haven’t materialized, so why would they upgrade further?

The second problem is rival rounds, specifically the 40x255mm CTA. This round is fully telescoped, so the actual cartridge size is 65x220mm. That said, it’s remarkably compact and can be fit efficiently into ammo storage spaces. Because of the shortness of the round and the alternative feed system, you can fit more 40mm CTA rounds than 35mm rounds into a given volume. Plus, the 40mm CTA holds as much propellant as the 50mm Supershot, so you’re not giving up anything in the way of launching power. If we wanted firepower, the 40mm CTA is the way to go. When converting the Bradley to use the 40mm CTA, designers were able to fit 105 ready rounds, which is pretty impressive. If the designers worked with a purpose-designed turret, they could almost certainly fit somewhat more. Finally, the CTA round has already been developed and is entering production and service now, whereas the 50mm Supershot would need some time and money to complete development. On the other hand, we currently field 35mm guns, and more firepower on our IFVs is always a win.

Verdict: Referred to the Borgundy Army Ordnance Board for testing and development

Duncan Sandys: Idiot or Cylon Infiltrator?

The casual student of history might be forgiven for wondering what happened to the British aircraft industry. During the Second World War (which they won) the British gave us the Spitfire, the Avro Lancaster, the Hawker Tempest, the De Havilland Mosquito, and many other great airplanes. Now, they can barely collaborate with Germany, Spain, and Italy to produce an overpriced, overdue, tactical fighter that fails to win orders or live up to its own ad copy. But hey, at least the Eurofighter can beat a Bugatti an a drag race. So what happened?

Two words: Duncan. Sandys.

In 1957 he took the British aircraft industry out back behind the shed and shot1 it.

He wrote a white paper on defense2 that made two points. First, the British aircraft industry had to reorganize in big conglomerates, and only those conglomerates would get future contracts. Goodbye all of the companies that competed with each other, hello giant companies that are slow moving and risk averse. Also, the contraction in number of companies means there are fewer design-level engineering positions to go around. One big company needs fewer designers than two small ones. Nothing like encouraging all of that war-won design expertise to seek other work.

But wait, it got worse. Sandys posited that manned military aircraft were obsolete. Missiles were the way of the future. Missiles were all that was needed to win wars. Missiles could intercept bombers, so they didn’t need to build fighters or interceptors. Missiles could deliver big nuclear warheads, so bombers weren’t needed to deliver nukes. And everyone3 knew the massive power of nuclear bombs had made conventional weapons obsolete. On the off chance such things were needed, missiles could deliver conventional warheads too. Missiles could do it all, and do it cheaper than aircraft without risk to aircrews. Sounds great! And Britain had basically no money after the war. They stuck with rationing well into the fifties, and that fancy empire had fallen apart. Goodbye aircraft, goodbye aircraft industry, hello missiles and big savings!

Of course, history had other ideas. Nobody wanted to blow the world to tiny bits, since that means they’d die too, so nobody ended up using all of their big ICBMs. Or their big bad atomic bombs4 for that matter. Time and again, nations turned to conventional bombs, and yes Virginia, manned aircraft to deliver them. In the Linebacker and Linebacker II campaigns, the USAF showed that B-52Ds could bring the pain to Hanoi like their fathers in the Mighty Eighth. If you were ever wondering what heavy bombers can do that tactical fighters can’t, it starts with carrying one hundred and eight 500 pound bombs, and it ends with blowing the living daylights out of everything in a box about five eighths of a mile wide and two miles long. Yes, manned heavy bombers were darned useful in Vietnam. And this even during the Christmas Bombing of Hanoi, flying into the teeth of a massive air defense network supplied with the latest in Soviet-made hardware.

But it was not just the USAF that enjoyed success with manned aircraft. The Israeli air force has enjoyed great success with their fighters. In 1967, they executed a surprise attack that destroyed both the Syrian air force and the bigger Egyptian air force on the ground. Guderian may have been the first master of blitzkrieg, but he never did it as well as Rabin. In 1973, the Israelis had to deal with brand new SA-6 SAMs during the Yom Kippur war, and this reminded everyone that pilots, and by extension their manned aircraft are adaptable. Despite significant early losses, they managed to adapt and overcome, proving highly successful once again. Again in 1981, the Israelis succeeded in destroying the Osirak reactor in Iraq, despite the Iraqi air defense network.

Of course, Saddam’s embarrassment at this led him to beef up his air defenses again, but it would not stop (mostly) American airpower in 1991. Once again, B-52s were a big part of the strike package. Versatile manned aircraft carried improvised GBU-28 “Deep Throat” bombs to destroy heavily protected Iraqi aircraft shelters and command bunkers. And despite the large number of cruise missiles used, the opening blows were struck by Apache helicopters trashing an early warning radar, and only the stealthy F-117 was to operate over Baghdad.

Want more? Well, even England found a use for their old “obsolete” Vulcan bombers in the Falklands war. Operation Black Buck was a record setting 12,600 km bombing raid where Vulcans flew from Ascension Island to neutralize the runway on the Falkland islands and deny its use to the Argentinians. And during this time period, no Polaris missiles were used in anger.

It’s the versatility of manned aircraft during this time that has ensured their longevity. Lest you think other bombers are obsolete, all B-52Gs were destroyed as part of the START treaty. Even though they’ve been adapted for conventional missions and even close air support, they’re still an important enough strategic weapon to affect the nuclear calculus.

Of course, now people are at it again. Now drones are the future! Yay networking issues. Needless to say, keep pilots in the cockpit where they belong. Or else those terrorist Cylon bastards will win.

The only real Viper is a manned Viper. So say we all!

1.) Fun fact, people in England used to be able to own guns. Yes, real guns!
2.) He misspelled the topic, actually. One more thing he couldn’t get right.
3.) USAF included on this point. At least until Vietnam and “limited response”
4.) Singer Fred Kirby called them Hell Bombs in a 1950 song. Best name for them ever.

A Very Russian Thanksgiving Special

Fishbreath is away, so I thought I’d run something extra midweek. A Thanksgiving Special, if you will.

You may have noticed that I’m a pretty typical NATO guy. I quote STANAGs, and I like things that are made in America and Germany. Tactically, I’m usually more on the NATO side of things too. But today I’m going to talk Russian stuff. Specifically, I’m going to run down 10 Russian things that I actually like. I’m a lazy guy, so these are in no particular order, but I will call out things that I find more or less important.

And no, I’m not going to count them down, either.

1. Pecheneg Machine Gun
This is sort of a curious gun, but I like the concept. It’s a light machine gun in 7.62x54mm, i.e. a full-power rifle cartridge. Not only did the Russians make it very light, but they went to a lot of trouble to make sure that it’s operable by a single man. So it has a big heavy barrel with air-cooling fins rather than a quick change barrel. It is still belt fed, as is right and proper for a machine gun, because large drums are awkward and dumb. The bipod is not made to be removed easily. I like this because it’s a really nice weapon that’s focused on the use in smaller units. It doesn’t have a bunch of compromises to also work on a vehicle pintle or a tripod.

2. RPO-A Shmel
Another neat little weapon that comes from a love of fire and extensive experience in urban warfare. The RPO-A is a single-shot, disposable-tube 93mm rocket launcher that fires a rocket with a thermobaric warhead. This gets you a bunch of roasted enemies, plus a nasty pressure wave and the air sucked out of an enclosed space. Perfect for clearing caves or structures. It’s a little heavy at 11 kg, but it’s exactly the kind of emplacement-wrecker that would be useful to be stowed in your IFV. Range is significantly better than a traditional flamethrower, and it’s a lot safer for the user. This Thanksgiving, roast your turkey with a Shmel!

3. TOS-1 Buratino
Continuing in the theme of fire and thermobaric warheads, we come to the TOS-1. This is some serious artillery. It consists of a thirty round box launcher for 220mm rockets mounted on a converted T-72 chassis. The T-72 lacks a conventional turret, but maintains much of its armor. This is good, as the Buratino has rather short range (3.5 km for the standard version, 6 km for the improved version). The use case here is smashing fortifications or pockets of resistance. And it excels in that, since each rocket brings the same kind of firey overpressure death as the shmel in a much larger package. First combat use was demolishing Grozny. With a T-72 chassis, these can be reasonably expected to keep up with a fast-moving advance too.

4. 2S4 Tyulpan
The Russians love their artillery, and the Russians love their mortars. The Tyulpan is a super mortar. It may be slow, and it may take a crew of 9 with an awkward and slow reload process, but it lobs a big 240mm shell to smash fortifications. It has seen combat service in Afghanistan and Chechnya, and has proven very good at its job. This is an ideal weapon for blasting fixed emplacements into rubble. While airstrikes could do the job as well, the Russians recognize that airpower may be diverted to higher priority targets, and air superiority is not assured. Tyulpan can also do the smashing.

5. Su-27 Family
I’m using ‘family’ here because I’m lumping all of the heavily modified derivatives together. The Su-27 was originally supposed to be the “hi” part of a hi/lo mix, and two MiG-29s were supposed to be bought for every Su-27. But then the Soviet Union collapsed, and the Su-27’s range and carrying capacity made it an export success. The Sukhoi design bureau worked tirelessly to keep the Su-27 up to date, with the fanciest (imported) avionics and newer engines. They also made an excellent two seat version (the Su-30) and a dedicated bomber version (the Su-34). It’s a really amazing bit of upgrade and derivative success.

6. 9K330 Tor (SA-15 GAUNTLET)
This is the short range SAM system I wanted for the IADS write up, but Fishbreath wouldn’t let me have. It’s an all weather point-defense missile system, designed to shoot down small, low-RCS targets like cruise missiles. It has excellent range for a SHORAD, reaching out to 12 km and up to 6 km. Reaction time on the latest models is seven seconds, and it comes with a very good radar system. Plus, it’s mounted on a tank chassis, so it can go anywhere and accompany armored forces.

7. 3M-54 Klub (SS-N-27 SIZZLER)
Back in the day, the Soviets made up for their lack of carrier-borne naval aviation with antiship missiles. They were the first to develop these in a modern format, and they have continued to refine the concept. Where we in America are stuck with the lame Harpoon, the Russians have worked out the fantastic Klub. It’s got a range of over 600 km and has a subsonic cruise for better range performance plus a supersonic terminal attack profile. They’re designed to reach Mach 2.9 in the final stages of flight, plus perform aggressive maneuvers to make them harder to target. These are probably the most formidable antiship missiles at present, taking the title from another Russian missile, the P-270 Moskit (SS-N-22 SUNBURN).

8. Kh-101 (AS-15 KENT)
The Russians were very impressed with the Tomahawk cruise missile and the AGM-86 ALCM. Imitation being the sincerest form of flattery, they made their own ‘Tomahawkski’ in the Kh-55. Like the Tomahawk, the Kh-55 has a range of about 2,500 km and comes in nuclear and conventional flavors. They’ve also improved the guidance system, with the latest versions reporting a CEP of 6-9 m. Unlike the west, the Russians did two good things with Tomahawkski. First, they standardized on it for their long-range land attack use across sea, air, and land platforms. The Tomahawk is strictly for naval use. B-52s, B-1s, and B-2s, drop the AGM-86, which is a completely different design, even though it has roughly the same characteristics. Second, the Russians super-sized it into the Kh-101, which is 7.45 m long, weighs 2,300 kg at launch, and has a range of 3,500 km. More range is good.

9. Tukhachevsky’s Echelons
This is a strategic one. I’m giving credit to Mikhail Tukachevsky, a brilliant operational theorist and victim of Stalin’s purges, even though his idea really only was workable much later. The idea was to group your forces in waves, with the first wave fixing the enemy in place and establishing weak points in the enemy’s lines, and the second wave smashing through the weak points and surging deep into the rear area with the help of the reserve as needed. War games figured that if nobody in NATO called out the tactical nuclear weapons, the Soviets could get to the Rhinei in about seven days. NATO had a lot of advanced weapon system designs in the late 80s built around defeating exactly this kind of fearsome armored attack.

10. The Kremlin
While the Kremlin is a pretty cool looking complex of buildings, I don’t mean this in the strictly literal sense. More in “The Kremlin” as in the overall leadership. While the Russians have a highly centralized control scheme, which I don’t always approve of, they play for keeps. Their rules of engagement generally make good tactical sense and they support their people. They do not throw their servicemen or their allies under the nearest bus to appease the fickle world opinion. I am indifferent as to the fate of al-Assad, but I like how Russia is supporting their ally in tough times. That is the point of an alliance is it not? To help each other when it is needed, not merely when it is convenient or popular to do so. They commit or don’t; there are no half-measures like the nonsense in Benghazi. And I’m very fond of their solution to the problem of urban warfare.

There you go. Ten Russian things I like. Have a happy Thanksgiving, eat plenty of turkey, drink lots of vodka, and watch hockey.

i) The exercise only ever looked to get to the Rhine, not beyond. Tactical nuclear weapons in Germany were American, and therefore under American control, and there was always the question if Americans would launch the nukes and trigger armageddon over Germany if the Soviets kept things conventional. To the west of the Rhine, however, lies France, who had her own nuclear arsenal in submarines, on Dassault bombers, and on le Plateau d’Albion. There was no doubt in the Pentagon, at Rand, or in the Kremlin that the French would play spoiler and use their nuclear weapons to induce armageddon rather than lose. So the tank armies always stopped at the Rhine.

Terminated Weapons: Eryx

It’s no secret that I’m a big armor guy. I like tanks and armored warfare, which means I spend a lot of time thinking about how best to kill enemy tanks, which means analyzing antitank missiles. Time to tear one apart: the Franco-Canadian Eryx. It’s not very good. I don’t see the niche that it fills as being all that useful, and it doesn’t fill it well.

Eryx was designed to replace the short range LRAC F1 rocket launcher. The LRAC F1 is a light, reusable rocket launcher, and as such, is unguided. This means that it’s cheap and cheerful, and can be used against bunkers and other emplacements. But it’s range limited, since it’s really hard to engage a moving vehicle at any kind of distance. And it’s old, and since the rocket must be fully contained in the launch tube, it’s penetration is somewhat limited too.1 So the French wanted something new, with more range and armor penetrating power. They enlisted the Canadians to increase the orders and defer costs. The result is a weapon that fills an odd niche.

The Eryx is decidedly range limited: it’s only good to 600 meters. Compared to the Milan, which is older, the Eryx comes up short. Milan has a range of 2,000 meters, and an extended range variant is available that pushes the range to 3,000 meters. Milan penetrates more armor than Eryx, and has a better sighting system as well. Both Milan and Eryx are Saclos-guided, but Milan just does it better. And Eryx really doesn’t offer much in the way of weight savings, which leaves me confused. Why bother bringing it along? Why not just issue more Milans to your anti-tank teams? Unlike the LRAC F1, it’s not light enough to issue to the average infantry squat, unless they’re mechanized and have weight to spare, in which case the Milan is the better choice.

Of course, we have better missile systems than the Milan now, like the Javelin and the NLAW. Both of these come in around the same weight as Eryx, and are top attack, so they’re stupidly more effective. Javelin and NLAW are both fire and forget weapons too, which means the operators can leave the launch site after launching, since the launch signature of any antitank weapon insures it will be counterattacked immediately.

It might not seem fair to compare the SACLOS Eryx to the fancy new Javelin, but the Eryx was introduced in 1994, and Javelin was introduced in 1996. Unlike Milan, Eryx is not an old legacy system that we have significant warstocks of. It hasn’t been produced in large numbers. I’m not sure why France and Canada didn’t wait a little more and focus on getting a modern fire and forget ATGM system that was top-attack capable. It’s time to kill one of the few things the Peace Dividend failed to get rid of.

1.) A decent first order approximation for HEAT warhead penetration is that it’s proportional to the diameter of the warhead. This serves as a pretty good comparison metric, provided that we’re comparing warheads of the same generation/sophistication.

Four of the oldest warships in active service, as of November 2015

I read earlier today that the US Navy’s new SSBN class is expected to serve until the 2080s. I wondered whether that was even remotely plausible. As American ships go, USS Kitty Hawk had a good run of it, hitting almost 50 years. I couldn’t find any American examples with a longer service life than that in commission and in active service today, but it turns out there are some out there. Here are four of the oldest warships in active service, by original commissioning date.

#3 – BAP Almirante Grau, formerly De Ruyter, Dutch-built cruiser in Peruvian service, November 18, 1953
Almirante Grau was laid down in 1939 by the Dutch, and launched in 1941 by the Nazis, so by that standard, she is indeed the oldest actual warship on this list. She’s also the most functional: a major refit between 1985 and 1988 gave her then-modern sensors and decoys, Otomat AShMs, and OTO Melara rapid-fire guns in place of her old Bofors mounts.

#2 – ROCS Hai Shih, formerly USS Cutlass, Tench-class submarine in Taiwanese service, March 17, 1945
Deserving of extra acclaim because she’s apparently still a reliably-submersible submarine built in the closing stages of the Second World War, she saw an actual war patrol in her days as Cutlass. She was transferred to the Taiwanese Navy in 1973, and has been in active service since. Her sister ship, ROCS Hai Pao, was commissioned in 1946 and transferred in 1976. They serve primarily as training ships and aggressors, and, incredibly, are still cleared to submerge 70 years after their commissioning.

#1 – BRP Raja Humabon, formerly USS Atherton, Cannon-class destroyer escort in Philippine service, July 26, 1943
The Philippine Navy is the oldest navy, on average, in the world; seven members of the Rizal and Miguel Malvar classes also date to before Hai Shih, and the Philippine Navy had two more Cannon-class ships before storms and whatnot sank them. Rajah Humabon is rather light on capabilities these days. Her ASW fit was removed due to lack of spare parts for Second World War-era sonars and depth charges; her gun director is no longer present; her weapons fit is exactly the same otherwise as in 1943.

Honorable Mention – U17 Parnaíba, Brazilian river monitor, March 9, 1938
After a brief huddle with parvusimperator, we decided that a river monitor is not a real warship, and doesn’t count. That said, Parnaíba is the oldest armed ship I was able to find in service with a navy, and deserves a spot on the list. She was commissioned before the next-oldest ship on the list, Almirante Grau, was laid down. She’s also definitively the oldest warship in service built by a yard in the country in which she currently serves, likely by at least two decades.

There you have it. A 65-year service life, as the Navy is proposing for the SSBN(X)-class, isn’t impossible, but it does seem highly suspect. All of these vessels were state of the art on their construction; the only one I wouldn’t instantly designate for scrapping is the Almirante Grau, and even with its modernizations, it probably isn’t worth the upkeep. 65 years from now, will the Navy’s new boomer be any different?