Aviation Documents
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Army Aviation and Firepower
By LTC Carle E. Dunn, USA-Ret. Editors note: LTC Dunn wrote this office a note and couldn't believe that I had never heard of Guns-A-Go-Go. Being a missile-orientated historian, I explained that when ATCOM moved to Redstone, no records were received. LTC Dunn was kind enough to write this piece about his experiences with Guns-A-Go-Go. The views expressed are his own and do not reflect the opinions of the U.S. Army, the Army Materiel Command, the U.S. Army Aviation and Missile Command, or this office. That said, here's his fascinating story. I changed all of 5 words... great job, Carle! - Claus Martel, May 2000. Prologue What you read here are memories. Most are events as I know them. At times this writing will appear autobiographical. I’m sorry. This is not a research paper. The vertical pronoun will frequently appear. Others may have different perspectives. Nonetheless, I will make clear those incidents personally observed. Furthermore, there are authoritative sources who were in positions to know details. I will use their memories. Other information will come from attended gatherings. These are the ones where pilots gesture wildly depicting craft in flight. Their hands follow each other through great arcs as social lubricant unleashes inhibitions. These are the best pictures. It is some hellish waste for them to be lost. To understand a picture, it helps to know about the device used to record it. There are factors to consider. Important ones are focus, depth of field, shutter speed and lens. Time changed these for me. Early years saw little focus and absolutely no depth of field. Yet, the shutter speed was fast and the lens clear. The scenes are still vivid. Background The post World War II (WWII) decision to dissolve the Army Air Corps was tactically traumatic. While the new United States Air Force met a definite need, close air support control by ground commanders was to become almost nonexistent Nonetheless, this did not become readily apparent until the Korean Conflict. Ground commanders, in combat, first tasted results of having their air arm wrested from direct control. Leaders, at the tactical level, had to deal with sorties (one aircraft out and back) that were often doled by inexperienced staff officers and frequently, politicians. Fire Support Coordinators (FSC) could allocate artillery resources in consonance with ground commanders’ needs and/or desires. When it came to air power, the FSC dealt with Air Force personnel. Frequently, Air Force priorities were different from ground commanders’ needs. And, the FSC could do little about it. Do not misunderstand; the newly formed United States Air Force was a major participant in the Korean conflict. B-29s projected destructive force to the aggressor’s homeland. And, ever present, was the nuclear force threat. This capability definitely heightened concerns. North Korea, Communist China and the Soviet Union had to consider this capability. It was real. They knew the United States Commander-In-Chief, President Truman, was capable of using it. Furthermore, Air Force tactical aircraft, with superbly trained pilots, depleted opposing fighters with kill ratios of as much as 12 to one. Additionally, these adept pilots delivered ordnance on opposing ground forces with devastating effect. Trains, truck convoys, rail yards and shipping were typical targets. Additionally, Marine Corps forces benefited greatly from air support. Naval Aviation kept pressure on opposing forces, much of it in close support of Marine Corps ground forces. However, this scenario was distinctly different from the Air Force and Army situation. Even so, the Marine Corps ultimately developed their own aerial fire support. One person, General Douglas MacArthur, held the various services together as a cohesive fighting force. MacArthur’s leadership brought to bear, by sheer force of will, the strength necessary to see that ground commanders received as much aerial fire support as possible. It was not enough. Two aircraft drew Army ground commanders’ attention. They could not help but notice the Sikorsky S-55 and Bell’s Sioux Scout helicopters. The S-55, better known as the CH-19, was the Army’s first true attempt at developing a helicopter with a real lift capability. It saved thousands of lives through medical evacuations. It also delivered much needed supplies. Though underpowered and overweight, this reciprocating engine driven “whirly bird” earned respect. And the Sioux Scout (H-13) did more than its share. Many a soldier owes his life to pilots who flew these aircraft. Without their ability to deliver wounded to medical facilities swiftly, surely many more would have died. Who decided to first arm these aircraft? I don’t know but I can speculate. It is a most uncomfortable situation to have shots fired at you. These aircraft drew fire. You can bet crew members returned it. These actions were self-defense measures. The Army had no aerial offensive capability. And, it hurt. One thing is sure. Commanders saw the potential for fire support from the “whirly birds.” Various Army Combat Arms began attaching weapons. Much of the effort was, “not official” and a lot of the equipment scrounged. The Air Force kept a close watch on the Army’s endeavors. A concept referred to as, “roles and missions” was in play. The Air Force was not going to allow the Army to tread on its turf. It was at this juncture that I became personally involved. My first duty tour, after being graduated from the Field Artillery Basic Officers Course, was Fort Sill, Oklahoma. This was where artillerymen learned, “To add dignity to what would otherwise be a vulgar brawl.” And, it is where I first savored firepower. When I was to be graduated from the course, I had orders to Korea. Fate struck. My orders changed. I was to remain at Sill as a Gunnery Instructor. . . Whoa! Hey, those guys were gods! For six weeks they taught neophyte artillery officers to become firepower managers. We learned to hurl six-hundred pound chucks of steel through space. We directed them to land with thunderous devastation. And, these guys showed us how. They were going to let me sit at their table. Surely, I had been blessed. Most gunnery instructors were senior captains. Many had commanded field artillery batteries. Some were Marine Corps officers. Since the Marines had no artillery school, they drew upon Fort Sill’s resources. Me? I was a Second Lieutenant walking among Thor’s minions. It was necessary that I learn every facet of firing battery operations, forward observer procedures and fire direction computations. What these officers taught me laid a foundation for my future. And, my future was Army Aviation. My two-year, active duty tour would end in a few months. I was anticipating a better living standard in the civilian sector. A Second Lieutenant’s pay wasn’t much. Trying to support a wife and child was tough. Nonetheless, I liked the military. And then a friend asked, “Have you ever considered flight school?” I had not but flight pay sounded good. Since I had four years enlisted time, I would draw maximum pay. The only problem was that the demand for Army pilots was low. Entrance standards were high and the “wash out” rate exceeded 60 percent. It was 1961 and these washout statistics would change in a few years. After primary training at Camp Wolters, Texas, the remnants of our class reported to Fort Rucker, Alabama. We were to transition into aircraft other than the Hiller OH-23. This Light Observation Helicopters (LOH) was the training craft used at Wolters. My instructor was Chief Warrant Officer (CWO) Gene Purdom. He would teach me to fly the CH-19. As we walked toward one at Hancby Army Airfield, I saw my first Bell UH-1 Iroquois. My envy showed as I pondered why some classmates were to fly this new, turbine-powered machine. To say the H-19 was underpowered was a gross understatement. Rucker, lovingly known among aviators as “Mother Rucker,” is a hot place in July. High temperatures and humidity are detriments to helicopter operational capabilities. For the H-19, it meant mastering an aircraft that did not want to fly. An instructor pilot, two students and a crew chief were more than it could handle. Hovering this leviathan was a momentary experience. Once a three-foot altitude was gained, the H-19 settled back to earth. Mr. Purdom taught us to fly. Our H-23 experience taught us basics. With the H-19, we had to use engine torque, wind and other “secrets” Mr. Purdom demonstrated to get off the ground. This required a gentle touch, finesse and skill. Takeoffs and landings were much like a fixed wing Vertical ascent? Forget it. After graduating from Mother Rucker, I departed for Korea aboard a ship. In mid-Pacific, we received notice to be prepared to go to a different port. We sweated the Cuban Missile Crisis at sea. We probably could not have been in a safer place. This gave me little comfort since my wife, daughter and soon-to-be born son were facing a nuclear holocaust at home. My Korean experience accrued benefits from Mr. Purdom’s teachings. I spent the year flying for the 38th Air Defense Brigade. Our destinations were mostly high-altitude, missile sites. The landing pads were small, the wind currents unpredictable and the H-13E models underpowered. With three people aboard, there was no room for error. The “school solution” of a steep descent angle would not work. We flew straight at the high altitude sites and made mini-running landings. I left the Far East with a Regular Army Commission, a shiny First Lieutenant’s bar and orders to the Field Artillery Career Course at Fort Sill. Once again Sill would be the locale to savor firepower. However, this time it would be from an airborne platform, the CH-34 helicopter. Aerial Rocket Artillery (ARA) was in its birth throes. I was a snowbird. Some benevolent soul at the Pentagon assigned me to a class that did not start for 45 days. Having been a Gunnery Instructor, I was temporarily assigned to the Department of Instruction (DOl). Initially, my primary duty was to monitor classes and submit reports to the director. However, I beard something about firing 4.5-inch rockets from CH-34s. My desires let known, I was put in a position to assist in the evaluation of this “conceptual undertaking.” The CH-34 was the most powerful, single reciprocating engine helicopter in the Army. Its lift capabilities far exceeded others. Also, it had an ideal capability for the project underway. The rotors could be disengaged while the engine remained operating. Why was this important? When firing rockets in an indirect fire mode, it’s best that the rotor blades be stationary. The situation encountered was this. Rocket pods were mounted on each side of an H-34. The pods held 4.5-inch rockets -- 48 of them. The concept was to fire from the ground in an indirect fire mode, i.e., the same as regular artillery. A forward observer (FO) would locate a target and initiate a fire mission. Adjusting rounds would be fired into the desired impact area. The FO would adjust fire onto the target. Then a salvo would be unleashed to fire for effect. This was standard artillery procedure. However, the weapon system was anything but standard. And, some methods used were truly innovative. Moreover, some super-scrounging took place. The Navy had 12 railroad boxcar loads of 4.5-inch rockets. They intended to dump these missiles in the ocean. Someone at Sill convinced the Navy to ship them to the Artillery Center. They were quite pleased to present the Army with these vintage projectiles. Field artillery employment doctrine defined tactical procedures for the H-34 test. To illustrate, imagine a planned offensive. Two H-34s are on station (in flight) in direct support of a ground unit. The FO contacts Fire Direction Center (FDC) personnel aboard one of the 34s. He calls for a fire mission. A key element, in any field artillery mission, is direction of fire. In the evaluation scenario, initial direction of fire is laid using the Radio Magnetic Indicators aboard the 34s. The pilots land their craft pointed in this general direction. This is just as effective as many an artillery mission where the direction of fire comes from a magnetic compass. FDC personnel know where the FO is. They also know the target’s location. And, they have a direction of fire. The next objective is to get rounds on the way for the FO to adjust. Upon landing, two individuals rush to the 34’s tail wheel. They place a fabricated set of rollers beneath it. The rollers are about the size of roller skate wheels. They are held together in a semicircular frame. This enhances the ability to easily move the aft pylon while pointing the craft for direction. Meanwhile, an artilleryman adjusts the rocket pods for elevation. He does this using a common lug wrench, similar to one used to remove lug nuts from a car’s wheel. To assure correct elevation, he places a gunner’s quadrant atop each pod. The elevation on the quadrant is determined by the FDC. When the gunner sees the quadrant’s bubble center, the pods are at the correct elevation. Once set, two rockets are fired. The bursting radius of a 4.5-inch rocket is about the same as a 105-mm howitzer projectile. If the FO can get two rounds within 50 meters of the target, the subsequent rocket salvo from both aircraft should be effective. These missions took place. I watched. Moreover, I helped evaluate data from the “tests.” There was controversy within the artillery community. The Infantry school, at Fort Benning, Georgia, provided their input. These idea exchanges, comments and opinions were healthy. They were helping mold future development. A heated debate arose over which rocket to use. There were avid supporters of only using 2.75-inch rockets and restricting their use to a direct fire mode. The Infantry School stood firm on this issue. The smaller missile, with its fin stabilization, was absolutely useless as an indirect fire projectile. This particular rocket bad enough problems in a direct fire role. Its tendency to “weather vane,” i.e., turn into the wind, caused its Circular Probable Error (CPE) to be quite large in a crosswind. One comment beard at a meeting was, “Hell, there’s no telling where the damn thing will go. Its CPE is already something like a 100 meters in a 1000. That’s dangerous shooting close to troops!” Those words would ring in my ears during my first Vietnam tour. Test reports from the CH-34 evaluation showed it to be almost as accurate as a 105-mm projectile when fired indirectly. The 34s also fired these rockets in a direct mode. They had similar problems as the 2.75 but not nearly as bad. A civilian defense contractor, I think it was Lockheed, had an impressive solution. The 4.5-inch, because of its larger size, could be fitted with a stabilization device. They wanted to rig the missile with a pyrotechnic gyro. I personally attended a briefing by two representatives explaining how this device worked. Upon firing, a powder train ignited which caused a gyro to “spin-up” in 1/10th of a second. No wind, crosswinds, whatever. . . where that thing was pointed when it fired is where it went. Stated CPE was 1 meter in a one thousand. With a bursting radius of 35 to 50 meters, that’s deadly at 3000 meters (9 feet approx.). To my knowledge the Army never tried this arrangement. One evaluation consideration was aircraft vulnerability. A particularly worrisome part was when they were on the ground during a fire mission. Someone asked the question, “Why do they have to land to fire?” This question raised some interesting observations. The most obvious were the rockets hitting the rotor blades after a launch. Some reflection brought to mind that machine guns had been firing through turning propellers since World War I (WWI). Simply link the firing mechanism to the transmission in such a way that rockets would go between the turning blades. This idea gave me goose bumps. Furthermore, there was having to determine a firing solution while in flight. The firing battery would be on the move. The aircraft-target relationship would constantly change. No big deal, the Navy had been doing this for more than half a century. When I was really getting involved with the CH-34 effort, my advance class started. I beard no more of this undertaking. Nevertheless, I do know that it had to play a part in the ultimate mating of firepower with Army aircraft. Idea exchange, if nothing else, advanced the process. The Air Force was still watching. There were 40 Army Aviators in the Field Artillery Officers Career Course in 1963-64. We were kindred spirits with a mutual bond. It was only natural for us to become a social group unto ourselves. My place in the group was “go-fer.” As the junior officer, my duties were many. I didn’t mind because I was just proud to be one of those guys wearing silver wings. Our training focus was artillery. Nonetheless, with the situation in Vietnam getting worse, we did have some training in antiterrorist tactics. I don’t recall the use of Army Aviation being mentioned. Nonetheless, efforts were underway to put Army Aviation into the fray. Their role as a vertical envelopment tool was being actively promoted. In addition, there were proponents for merging firepower with Army aircraft. It was only a matter of time. Of the class, a large portion of the aviators received orders to good old, Mother Rucker. Our arrival there placed us at the heart of the action. Big things were afoot and we were part of it. My assignment was teaching artillery adjustment procedures. Aerial artillery adjustment is slightly different from methods used by ground FOs. Unfortunately, we had to use a terrain model rather than live fire. The terrain model was known as a Puff Board. An individual beneath the model made smoke puffs appear based upon student input. It was inexpensive but could not replace the real thing. However, live firing was coming and it would be soon. A major effort was to participate in a “lessons learned” program. We soon learned that fixed wing pilots in Vietnam did not know how to adjust artillery. The Commandant, General John Tolson directed the development of a Program of Instruction (P0I) for training fixed-wing students. It would include live firing. My task was to prepare the P0I. I briefed General Tolson and Assistant Commandant, Colonel George Putnam, on the POI. Satisfied, General Tolson asked, “Dunn, when will you teach the first class?” I explained that I was not fixed wing rated and would not be teaching the course. General Tolson responded, “You will damn soon be and you will teach the course!” There’s only one response, “Yes Sir.” I was in hot water. During my tenure at Rucker, I had plagued the Chief of Staff for permission to get a “local fixed wing checkout.” This amounted to an instructor pilot (IP) teaching on an informal basis. It was not a regular course of instruction. When the IP thought a person qualified, he would have a check ride given by a qualified aviator. If the ride went well, the student got the fixed wing rating. The Chief of Staff had rejected every application I had made. And, there had been many. Figuring that I had gone over his head, the Chief of Staff would most definitely be upset. I never knew. The only indication I had was that I would attend a regular course. There would be no “local checkout.” The man never mentioned the situation to me. Never would I mention it to him. It was late 1964. Army Aviators were astir. An entire aviation division was being formed at Fort Benning. It was the 11th Air Assault and there had never been such a unit in Army history. There were clandestine trips to Benning. Aerial photos of Vietnam’s Central Highlands received close study. Additionally, there would be a new ARA unit as part of division artillery. This was to be the official mating of UH-1 helicopters and offensive firepower in an organized, combat division. Moreover, we knew where the baptism of fire would be. We didn’t know when and none of us had ever heard of the Gulf of Tonkin before now. The ARA ships were mounted with 2.75-inch rockets. Who made the decision to use this particular missile? I have no idea. Nevertheless, its use would come into question among some aviators. It would be matter of discussion among many pilots. Moreover, ground units were not always endeared to support from the ARA. The forever plaguing accuracy problem would cause support for another craft being developed, the Armed/Armored CH-47 Chinooks. And, I would soon be developing my own opinion. Flying a CH-47 never entered my mind during 1965 and 1966. My task was to train aviators, particularly fixed pilots, to use conventional, field artillery firepower. An artillery unit at Fort Rucker provided fire support. We were given the flight time asked for in the POI to do live-firing exercises. Classroom work on the Puff Board preceded actual flight missions. I loved it. It was my monopoly. There were no others to teach the classes or to oversee the live-firing. Things could not have been much better for a “Redleg” with wings. It would end too soon. The end’s precursor was an order to attend a Helicopter Pilots’ Instrument Training Course. Rotary Wing students did not receive an instrument rating while attending initial flight training. It was necessary to attend a rather difficult school to receive an instrument rating. Graduation endowed an aviator with the ability to fly into weather conditions considerably worse than those associated with Visual Flight Rules (VFR). Moreover, it qualified an aviator to attend the CH-47 Transition Course. I never saw it coming. My first contact with an Armed/Armored CH-47 took place in Vietnam. Assigned to the 228th Aviation Battalion (ASHB), 1st Cavalry Division at An Khe, I arrived in February 1967. My first trip to the flight line, to get my local checkout started, I saw A/ACH-47 #64-13154 nicknamed “Birth Control.” I was awestruck. It bristled with weaponry. There was a 50-cal., machine gun mounted on the transom. Two more protruded from firing portals on each side. Also, on each side, there was a 20-mm canon. In the immediate vicinity of these, there were 2.75-inch rocket pods. To add to the arsenal, a 40-mm grenade launcher protruded from its position beneath the craft’s nose. Reluctant to leave, I went with my aircraft commander to our assigned ship. Throughout the day’s flight I pestered him for details about the A/ACH-47s. Furthermore, I felt quite naked with only two M-60 machine guns for protection. Subsequent investigation revealed that the “Go-Go” unit was originally dubbed the 53rd Aviation Detachment. Configured in the States, four were built. The Hook’s payload capacity made possible special armor plate and hard points for weapon systems. Three ships, 64-13149 (Easy Money), 64-13151 (Stump Jumper) and 64-13154 (Birth Control) comprised the 53rd Detachment. This unit went to Vietnam in 1966 for a six-month evaluation. The first ship built, 64-13145, remained at Edwards Air Force Base for further testing. According to historical records, the test was to be for six months. The unit was sent for temporary duty (TDY) at Vung Tau for three months and then An Khe for three more. Records state, “During their evaluation period, the ACH-47s destroyed every assigned target they engaged. It was during this evaluation period, on 05 Aug. 66, that ‘Stump Jumper’ was involved in a freak accident.” There was a ground collision destroying the ship. The ACH-47 at Edwards was immediately sent to replace “Stump Jumper.” Designated 1st Aviation Detachment (Provisional), the ACH-47 unit was attached to the 22th Aviation Battalion, 1st Cavalry Division at An Khe. ACH-47 64-13145 joined her sister ships in December 1966. These “Go-Go” birds would remain much longer than three months. Moreover, they would become quite controversial. And, like the CH-34 unit, I was there to watch the melding of Army Aviation and Fire Power. Furthermore, General John Tolson and Colonel George Putnam would come to the 1st Cavalry Division. Tolson was the Division Commander and Putnam commanded division artillery that linked directly to the ARA. Additionally, there were many others from “The Mother Rucker” group. One close friend, Major Dick Mills, was in the ARA. I later learned, I was supposed to be in the ARA. Colonel Putnam spotted me while on a visit to the 228th. He questioned my being in the unit and demanded an explanation as to why I wasn’t with the 2/20th ARA. My explanation was simple. “Orders, Sir.” Unknowingly, I had slipped through the Tolson team sweep of Rucker personnel to accompany him and Putnam to the 1st Cavalry Division. Frankly, I was quite pleased with my current assignment but did not relate that to Putnam. Much of what I am going to relate next comes from hearsay. Described events come from recollections of conversations with “Go-Go” pilots, 228th Operations personnel and other sources. It also comes from events that took place as personnel actions during the period I served as the 228th S-1 Officer. Time clouds some “remembrances.” Nonetheless, I am comfortable telling them. Resentment existed having the “Go-Go” unit attached to the 228th. They were a drain on CH-47 resources. Personnel to fly and maintain these aircraft came from the 228th. This happened at a time when there was an extensive pilot shortage. Personnel matters were not as Secretary of Defense McNamara stated. He said “…there is not a shortage of pilots in Vietnam. There is an overage of aircraft.” Aviators in the 228th flew 14 to 16 hour days. That’s in the seat, flying missions time. Before the 10th of each month, pilots exceeded recommended safety limits for crew flying time. This required a visit to the Flight Surgeon for permission to stay on flight status. Flight time extensions were routine because the missions dictated it. Fortunately, there were opportunities to “nap” en route from one point to another. Supplying pilots to “Go-Go” crews worsened the situation. I, like my peers, appreciated the “Go-Go” ships. They were our best defensive weapons. The enemy dearly loved shooting at Hooks. The target was large, frequently carried many people and supplies, and lacked sufficient firepower for defense. When we moved to a new operational area, it seemed anyone that could hold a weapon shot at us. However, tuck a couple of ACH-47s in a flight, and the firing soon stopped. From a distance, it was difficult for even Hook drivers to distinguish the “Go-Go” ship from the standard model. And, it became obvious that the enemy couldn’t be either. It only took a couple of flights with two ACH-47s in our midst and the enemy soon learned. It was a joy to watch. Some jerk would be standing in the open firing. Suddenly, two of the birds broke formation and headed for the would-be hook-killer. The word spread fast —don’t shoot at Hooks. By the time “Guns-A-Go-Go” joined the 228th their operational procedures were deadly. There were tales that, when the unit first came to ‘Nam, flight personnel thought they had an invulnerable, flying pillbox. However, they soon learned that teamwork was an absolute necessity for mission success. And their teamwork maximized their craft’s ability to take down tough targets. An example related to me explains how. One of the enemy’s air-defense weapons was a radar controlled, quad .51 caliber weapon. The pilot explained that an indication of being radar tracked was a distinctive sound heard from their FM radio. A certain indication of target acquisition was blue-green tracers streaming skyward in their direction. One ACH-47 would take the attacking weapon under fire with 20-mm canons. This weapon out-gunned the .51 calibers in range and firepower. As the craft approached the Czech-made weapon’s position, their explosive rounds tore into it while the .51 tracers fell short of the ACH-47. When within range, the aircraft fired its 2.75-inch rockets. Meanwhile, the other “Go-Go” had its 20-mm fire upon the target. The lead ship’s .50-caliber machine guns rained steel into the enemy’s position. By this time, the other ship was firing rockets and the lead bird pummeled the position with 40-mm grenades and began its break left or right. The transom mounted .50-caliber brought fire on the target. The two ships worked this “daisy chain” attack procedure to perfection. No one would ever think that this effective firepower would lead to their demise. There are those who firmly believe that it did. Tragically, on 5 May 1967, “Easy Money,” and its crew was lost. During an attack, an elevation retention pin on a 20-mm vibrated loose. This allowed the weapon to elevate too far. The shells tore into the forward blades resulting in the craft’s destruction. Only two ACH-47s remained. Furthermore, the unit needed new personnel. The operation officer’s position was being vacated. I asked to fill that position. There was a quite evident “Let’s wait and see attitude” exuding from Division headquarters. Nevertheless, I began flying training missions with the “Go-Go” team. After the hundreds of hours transporting cargo, moving artillery units, recovering downed aircraft and other such missions, I was finally in a position to see direct results of my contribution to destroying the enemy. During this time, I learned of previous events that, I believe, had a significant impact upon “Guns-A-Go-Go.” One instance was a response to a support request to provide fire support for a ground unit in trouble. This particular unit was receiving heavy automatic weapons’ fire from a village. These troops were pinned and unable to maneuver. The ground commander designated a “hooch” target. The ACH-47s promptly dispatched the building. Firing from the village continued. Responding to the commander’s fire requests, the “Go-Go” team continued their attack. Soon enemy firing ceased. The village lay in ruins. The ground commander expressed his thanks and released the Hooks. At An Khe, all hell broke loose! The attacked (and destroyed) village was the commanding general’s “Hearts and Minds” showplace. “Hearts and Minds” was a phrase used to describe a nationwide, allied effort to assist Vietnam’s population. Great effort went into providing security, medical supplies, educational programs and other assistance to destroy the Viet Cong’s roots, the Vietnamese population itself. The destroyed village was the place used to show visiting media, inspectors and celebrities how well the program was working. Evidently “Charlie” took advantage and used the place from which to operate. To my knowledge no direct repercussions befell the ACH-47 unit’s leaders and personnel. Oh, there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth. I’m sure there was a detailed investigation. No information became available regarding the ground commander’s fate. A certainty is that the ACH-47s did not endear themselves in the hearts of senior echelon personnel in, and out of, the division. In addition, there was more to come. The 1/9th Cay, sought the enemy with reconnaissance units. Light observation helicopters swept low trying to draw fire. Their goal? Seek “Charlie” and bring force to bear resulting in his destruction. They were good at their job -- and, sometimes, the enemy was in force. This required fire support. Conventional artillery was a typical fire support option. However, if not within range, the ARA brought their firepower to bear. One of “Charley’s” basic tactics was to hold close to their enemy. This reduced fire support effectiveness because they were too close to friendly forces. The CPE of the 2.75-inch rocket immediately caused problems. Too many hit within friendly positions. Beleaguered ground units started calling for “Guns-A-Go-Go” by name. The ACH-47’s varied weapon complement proved excellent for attacking positions close to friendly units. The crews were most adept at placing heavy machine gun and 20-mm fires on target. Add to this the 40-mm grenades and the “Go-Go” teams could reserve their rockets for targets away from friendly positions. This proved an embarrassment to the ARA leaders and supporters of the ARA concept. The ACH-47 unit was in trouble. Instructions came from Division to disband the 1st Aviation Detachment. I was still flying training missions and not yet transferred. Any hope of joining the unit ended. The unit’s six-month evaluation period was a longtime over and, it seemed, the test complete. “Go-Go” pilots would transfer to the 228th. Army aviators need little excuse to party. We organized a “Stand Down Party.” This event was to celebrate what we considered a successful endeavor by the heroic pilots. Also, it was a wake. We would no longer have these wonderful aircraft for protection. “Charley” could blast at us and not expect any retaliation. We hated to see it end and were well on our way to getting smashed over the whole mess. Then, matters reversed. Someone announced at the party that the 1st Aviation Detachment would remain with the 228th. There would be no “stand down.” Hearsay was that a higher headquarters had rescinded the Division order. The “word” was that MACV had told the 1st Cavalry Division it did not have authority to detach the unit. It was staying where it was and would remain until proper authority said otherwise. Now, we really had a reason to party! About this same time, the 228th got a new commander. He would not support my transfer. Since, I had been S-I for more than six months, I was able to return to my original unit, C Company, 228th as a Platoon Commander. Never, during this stand-down incident, did I ever see an authoritative document relating to any of it. I should have as S-1. There were no orders through my office relating to personnel transfers. It’s still a mystery to me as to the actual details. I know this. My comfort level was high flying Hook missions because I knew the “Go-Go” team remained. My tour ended and I left country two days before the 1968 Tet Offensive. Shortly after my departure, “Birth Control” fell to enemy fire. The ship was providing fire support to recapture Hue. Severe hits caused the crew to land in a dry rice patty. “Easy Money” recovered the downed crew. Subsequent mortar fire destroyed “Birth Control.” The “Go” odyssey ended that day. Epilogue It is important to understand that incidents and/or events cited in these remembrances in no way adversely reflect upon those involved. Instead, it is intended to show the people and processes, of a small part of merging firepower and Army Aviation. ARA units were manned with true heroes. The leadership of the 1st Cavalry Division (Airmobile) took a concept and molded it into a functioning, effective reality. Without these people, Army Aviation could well be a small, neglected part of our Army. A key event in the Army’s evolution of Aviation firepower was the settlement of the “Roles and Missions” dispute between the Army and the Air Force. Essentially, this agreement resulted in the Army giving up its fixed-wing aircraft that could play a firepower role. The Army transferred its Caribou and Mohawk ships. The Army kept administrative type fixed wing. The Air Force agreed to not interfere with Army efforts to develop and field armed helicopters. Today the Army has an Aviation Branch. It had one for many years but it was de facto. Anytime there were so many personnel involved in a like effort, such as Army Aviation, an Aviation Branch existed. Fortunately, the facade is gone. Photos
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Conventional CH-47 placing phone and electric utility poles to the top of Hong Kong Mountain at An Khe. The CH-47’s versatility proved a strong asset to Army Aviation.
ACH-47 in Flight: This “Go-Go” ship is “Birth Control.” It is on an attack mission subsequent to an “Arc Light.” An Arc Light mission is a high-altitude B-52 carpet-bombing mission. Using radar, massive amounts of conventional bombs rain through clouds and essentially devastate a target area. The attack CH-47 would fly into the impact area to seek targets suffering from stun effects of the B-52’s payload.
ACH-47 attacking ground position Note white spots on left side of picture... 2.75-inch rockets had just been fired.
The Problems of Supply Management in Aircraft Logistics
By BG William B. Bunker, 29 January 1957, Paper #40 These remarks are the personal observations of the author, and do not represent doctrine nor policy of the Transportation Corps, the U.S. Army Aviation and Missile Command, nor the Department of the Army. I have been asked to come down here today to discuss with you some of the aspects of aircraft logistics. In St. Louis, I have the responsibility for exercising the Chief of Transportation's operational requirement to furnish logistical support to the Army aviation program. In fulfilling this responsibility, I find I am frequently called upon to try to reconcile the special problems of aircraft with normal Army procedures. I thought that this might be an interesting phase of the problem to discuss with you. Somehow in the aviation business, everything tends to become unique and special. Part of the initial friction between the Army and its fliers back in the Billy Mitchell days arose from the penchant that the aviators have for insisting on special considerations and their many reasons for feeling that they have to deviate from most of the old, time-hallowed Army customs and procedures. Generally, those outside of the flying fraternity have tended to regard this accent on the special nature of birdmen and their machines as over-emphasized and unnecessary. While I don't subscribe to the current concept of the Billy Mitchell affair that we were all blind to the problems and the future of aviation and aviators, nor do I believe that an aviator can only cure his headache if the aspirin has wings on it, there are many specific problems in the aviation business not found in other Army operations which have to be considered if we are to handle this mission successfully. Today, we are witnessing an increase of what might be termed a "second growth" aviation in the Army and we seem to be making strong efforts in all aspects of the program to prove that our aviation is no different than any of the other functions of the Army nor aircraft any different than any of our other equipment. Accent is on conformity and standardization with traditional Army policies and procedures and little effort is being made by the Army, both within and outside of the flying organizations, to accent the peculiarities of the aviation business. Our high command has repeatedly emphasized that we have no desire nor necessity to reestablish a separate Army Air Corps to handle our increased aviation program but can fit it into our existing structures. In the logistic side of the business, too, the accent has been on conformity. Army Regulations designed for the mass problems of Ordnance and Quartermaster logistics are being applied directly and without exception to the problems of aircraft. In general, I can't but agree that it is necessary for the aircraft to become a commonplace piece of Army equipment if it is in fact to perform as an integral part of all Army operations as is so enthusiastically forecast by our leaders. Army Regulations and Army procedures are generally completely applicable to the problems of aircraft and aviation operations and we, in the TC at least, have repeatedly taken the position that there was little necessity for special procedures and policies to handle aviation and aircraft problems. As a matter of fact, we find some of the limited special treatment now accorded aviation matters tends to interfere with an orderly and effective handling of the problems. We in the Transportation Corps generally find ourselves pleading to have aircraft problems handled in the normal technical service procedures. Since, however, after your weeks of study here at this School, you are probably better versed in the details of the standard procedures of Army supply management and procurement than I am, I thought that it might be worthwhile to spend this short period this morning to discuss with you some of the places in which the aircraft, and hence, aircraft logistics are decidedly and necessarily different from the logistics of other pieces of Army equipment. I hope that you will accept the premise that I am not seeking to establish a special set of regulations, a special technical service or special code of operations for the aircraft business. On the other hand, I think it is essential that everyone in the supply management business understand that there are certain essential differences between aircraft and the normal pieces of Army equipment and that these differences must be recognized and must be accounted for in establishing policies and procedures for logistics management. These differences between aircraft and other pieces of Army equipment seem to me to arise primarily from three general factors. First, is the difference between the military design and engineering responsibility for aircraft as opposed to that normal in other pieces of Army equipment. Next, is the difference between the aircraft industry and the industries on which we rely to produce most of the rest of our equipment. The third is the exaggerated difference in emphasis in aircraft on such factors as weight, speed, strength and performance which result in a tremendous difference in price for aircraft quality items versus similar items used in other fields of activity. I will assume that you are well aware of the often exaggerated fact that an aircraft operates off the ground. To discuss these problems in the order in which I have outlined them, I would like first to take up the question of responsibility for design. Generally, Army equipment falls into two broad categories. First, are those items of purely military application which are designed by our technical services in their Research and Development organizations or by contract with professional design organizations and are then constructed by private industry following the detailed plans and specifications furnished by the military. Secondly, are those items of more or less standard commercial design which, with or without modification, are usually procured from the normal manufacturers of similar civil items. In the first category of items, our own engineers, frequently among the best in the particular field concerned, carefully design and develop items of equipment and prepare the necessary detailed specifications and drawings to meet our military characteristics or other general statement of operating requirements. These, of course, are generally those items of limited civil use and market like weapons, uniforms and tactical vehicles. In this manner the Ordnance, for example, designs tanks and weapons, the Engineers design portable bridging equipment and camouflage materiel, the Signal Corps designs military electronic and radio gear and we in the Transportation Corps design harbor vessels and our multigauge railway equipment. In the second category are found the vast majority of military support items ranging from Medical Corps aspirin to Quartermaster warehouse trucks. While, from time to time, commercial industry or individuals have developed certain weapons and special items of equipment which they have then tried to sell to the Army, in general military equipment has been designed by engineers in our employ. Usually we are pretty unenthusiastic about the man who brings in an unsolicited idea for a new tank or gun; we have too often found that the is unaware of our basic operational requirements. In the aircraft field, however, this is not true. The Military services generally do not have the competence nor the personnel to design a complex aircraft system such as a B-52 or an F9F Navy Fighter or even a small Army H-13 or L-19 aircraft. These aircraft are the products of long periods of development, research and detailed engineering on the part of the large engineering staffs of various manufacturers. For example, the Aircraft Industries Association tells us that the B-52 contains four million man-hours of engineering effort on the part of Boeing; the little H-13 represents probably several hundred thousand man-hours effort on the part of the engineers at the Bell Helicopter Corporation. While we usually supply a statement of our requirements and require that the manufacturer follow a handbook giving detailed standards to be met in the design of various components of military aircraft and, additionally, spend many hours in a meticulous review of details of design on the part of the manufacturer, it is highly debatable, at least in my own mind, that we in anyway add anything to the technical assemblage that goes to make a complete aircraft. As a consequence, while we assume the responsibility for the satisfactory design of an Army aircraft, it is in the final analysis, Sikorsky's or Bell's or Cessna's airplane and we have merely decided that the assemblage which they have designed is as near satisfactory for our purpose as we can expect to get. In the Army today the fact that our aircraft are the products of industry can be illustrated by reviewing our present, so-called standards: Our observation airplane was completely designed and built by Cessna and submitted for evaluation. Our utility airplane is a commercial bush pilot's plane of a Canadian manufacturer. Our command airplane is a private or business light twin engine built for commercial market accepted after an evaluation by our CONARC Board. Our reconnaissance helicopters were both built for commercial sale extensively modified to meet our informal comments and formal change notices. Our utility helicopter was likewise a commercial venture. Our light cargo helicopter was designed for Air Force arctic rescue work. Our medium cargo helicopter was designed for use in Marine assault missions (the only function at least approximating our expected use). Our new utility helicopter, the XH-40 which we will start getting next year is the first production machine to be built to our requirements. Even this aircraft, however, is a Bell design which we have merely monitored. This dependence on the manufacturers' design has certain important ramifications elsewhere in the logistics picture; if we are not competent to design the aircraft, certainly we are likewise not competent to fully evaluate the effect of a change or modification on the successful functioning of the whole machine. We are pretty much at the mercy of the contractor in determining the desirability or necessity for a change in this or that component to meet an operating problem or eliminate a deficiency. We are not particularly able to apply the broad principles of maintenance engineering which requires that supply and maintenance technicians participate freely in the development stage of a piece of equipment to insure the incorporation of ease of maintenance concepts into the design. Similarly, we are not particularly able to implement programs of standardization. If, for example, we desire that the manufacturer use the same aircraft engine in the H-23 as we do in the H-13, our purpose is fully defeated the minute his engineers say that the H-23 will not work satisfactorily with precisely the same engine. A little story here might serve better to illustrate this point. Sitting in a commercial airliner, you will frequently notice the crewmen opening little trap doors in the wings to fill the gas tanks and that these little doors are fastened by a quick lock device turned by a screwdriver or a key or some other sort of gadget. There are some four or five hundred different designs of these fasteners used on aircraft although they usually travel under the common denominator of "Zus" fastener much as most cameras can travel under the name "Kodak" without being manufactured in Rochester, New York. Some time ago, following our standardization concepts, the Air Force, after spending a great deal of money to design a new, non-patented standardized fastener, directed that all of their new aircraft would use such a fastener. The repercussions from this directive were violent indeed. Practically every aircraft designer objected to having his detailed engineering dictated in advance, not to mention the manufacturers of fasteners feelings about being put out of business and the whole project had to be dropped. We in the Army have another difficulty in this area since we are not authorized to contract directly with the aircraft manufacturers for our equipment. Our helicopters and planes are secured by placing our requirements on the Air Force or the Navy, therefore, the military representatives in the plants are from the procuring service. As a result we have an even harder time insuring that our ideas and desires are reflected in the day-to-day engineering that goes into our aircraft. Since we use Air Force and Navy contract documents we have a difficult time incorporating design features which meet our particular problems. In other words, this problem can be summarized in that about the only way we can accomplish many of the sound objectives of supply economy and logistics management that you have studied here such as standardization, interchangeability, etc., as well as ease of maintenance concepts and other programs into the engineering design of Army aircraft is to ask the manufacturers to do their best to bear these projects in mind during the development of their aircraft. To expect that we in the military can directly influence the designer in the application of these principles without the technical competence to undertake the design ourselves is indeed misleading. The current approach to this problem in the Air Force is to adopt the "weapons system management" theory. Under this concept a prime manufacturer is given full responsibility to develop and produce a complete aircraft including all the engines, electronics, instruments, accessories, etc., which have heretofore normally been developed and supplied by the Air Force. Thus, they have tended to contract the engineering aspects of supply management responsibilities, especially those like standardization, ease of maintenance and such which have to be implemented on a day-to-day basis in design and production to the manufacturer. The second area of peculiarity between aircraft and other items of military equipment lies in the position of the industry itself. In the last couple of years, the aircraft industry has assumed the position of the largest industry in America. (Although, as has been pointed out, it still is a poor second to the automotive industry lethality). Together with its supporting industries, manufacturing its accessories, power plants and electronics, the aircraft industry today employs as many people as there are in the whole Army. The giants of the industry like Douglas, Lockheed and Convair far exceed the industrial giants in the automotive and other industries. Although, however, the aircraft industry in numbers of workers or in dollar volume of output exceeds that of any other endeavor, measured in numbers of end items produced, the production remains rather small. Certainly there is no other industry producing end items with a unit price of six or seven million dollars. The major point of difference between the aircraft industry and other manufacturing enterprises, however, lies in the fact that this industry is completely dependent on those items which it produces for the Government. While, obviously, our whole military production program relies on the productive capacity of the ship-building, automotive, locomotive and other heavy industry of the country, all of these industries have a broad base of commercial production on which they have been established. The aircraft industry on the other hand, produces some 70 or 80% of its output directly for the United States Government and its commercial sales amount to practically a sideline business. Further, most of the industrial facilities engaged in the production of aircraft are in major proportion, owned by the Government. Even those factories which have been put up by private capital are equipped with tools and other facilities supplied by the Government. The annual sales of an aircraft company represent many times the value of private capital invested in the business; the aircraft industry generally produces something over four to ten times its net worth per year compared to one third or less in normal production enterprises. The result of the fact that the aircraft industry is in effect a socialized operation, is manifold. In the first place, it becomes, to some degree at least, the responsibility of the Government to keep the factories running or to determine whether any particular factory shall continue in production or be shut down. A decision to buy from one manufacturer as against another is largely influenced by the backlog of Government work distributed between the two manufacturers and some effort must be made to balance the workload if the production base is to be maintained. When this Government ownership and responsibility for the plant is coupled with the fact that it is generally accepted that the total aircraft productive capacity of the country is far less than that which would be required under mobilization conditions, the necessity for distributing the work among the various manufacturers becomes apparent. Thus, for example, if Convair managed to produce the best fighter for all military services it would not be to the best interests of the Government to order all its fighters from Convair and consequently close down the facilities of McDonnell, Lockheed, North American and others. In our small program, for example, this problem results in our continuing to procure small two place helicopters from both Bell and Hiller in spite of our policies and programs of standardization. Our stake in the present industry has a restrictive influence on new designers and producers, too. If, for example, we decide that Ford or General Electric has a more promising design for a new cargo helicopter than our current producers, we would still be reluctant to change contractors. The aircraft industry being what it is, this decision would probably have to be implemented by closing down Sikorsky's or Vertol's Government financed plant and creating a new Government facility for the new contractor. Therefore, except in times of expanding procurement like that of six years ago, we seldom see new producers entering into the aircraft business. There are many areas in which proper recognition of this aspect of the aviation logistics picture is required. One of these, of course, is in scheduling replacement aircraft. Generally, we tend in the Army to buy our full requirement of a new design and then to wait a considerable period of time before buying a replacement. In the aircraft business, it is much sounder to place in procurement a limited quantity of each generation of aircraft in spite of the effect which this has on the parts management problems. Also, due to the fact that getting a new design of aircraft into the production stage requires approximately five years, some program whereby the producer of an aircraft is also assigned responsibility for the design of its replacement should be encouraged. All of these things, of course, mitigate against competition and normal procurement practices and necessitate some sort of managed sole source operation. The degree to which we seek to retreat behind an impersonal competitive attitude towards the industry directly affects our ability to maintain an adequate production complex. This aspect of the aviation business is also tied into the first point I mentioned since if our aircraft are in fact designed by the manufacturers it is essential that the producers be kept in business in order to insure the continuity of the developing team. Thus, if we stop ordering Bell's current production machine and allow the factory to close we cannot expect that their engineering office will produce a satisfactory 1960 model helicopter when we need it. Similarly, if we decide to produce Sikorsky types in Bell and Vertol facilities we will correspondingly reduce the breadth of our engineering base. As a consequence of this aspect of the aviation business the procurement of aircraft tends to become more of a joint military-industry partnership than does the procurement of other military equipment. We are quite concerned that our manufacturers are developing new and improved products to sell us, that they do not increase to a size we cannot support or decrease to the point of uneconomical production. We are as thoroughly enmeshed in the day-to-day problem of management as is their own board of directors. The third major area of difference lies in the nature of the equipment itself. While we frequently call attention to the obvious fact that a mechanical failure in an aircraft usually leads to more disastrous results to the equipment as a whole as well as the operator than would a similar failure in other types of equipment, I am really thinking of differences a little less charged with emotion. Fundamentally, these differences arise from the fact that since the aircraft must defy the laws of gravity, weight becomes an all controlling factor. While we have, as a standard element of Army military characteristics, the requirement that our equipment should be as lightweight as possible and of late have placed increasing emphasis on this characteristic, generally these weight-reduction programs have been conspicuous by their lack of progress. In the aviation field, however, weight is an all controlling factor. Every pound of extra weight in the aircraft is directly responsible for one pound less of useful load which the aircraft can carry to accomplish its mission. It is also further influenced by the so-called "growth factor" by which one extra pound placed, for example, in an engine or transmission results in an eight or nine pound increase in the overall empty weight of the aircraft itself by the time the extra supporting members, extra power and fuel, etc., are place in the aircraft, to keep its performance constant. The direct result of this importance of weight in aircraft is the fact that aircraft components are customarily designed to a very narrow margin of safety. Where a safety factor of six, or a six-fold excess of allowable stress over that imposed, is normal in civil engineering and a factor of four or so is normal in mechanical engineering, aeronautical engineering customarily reduces their safety factors as close as possible to unity. When this problem is further aggravated by the fact that many of the more complex stresses in aircraft structures and particularly in helicopters are not well known, the frequent occurrence of unforeseen failures of various components, particularly in new designs, is not surprising. In a further effort to reduce weight, elaborate and sophisticated means of metal working and shop practices such as heat-treating, shot-peening, cold-working, etc., are used on what might be considered very minor components. This is what makes a quarter-inch aircraft quality bolt cost $1.50 while the same size bolt used in a truck or tank can be procured for ten or twelve cents. It leads to the requirement for special wrenches and tools to work in the restricted accesses and close quarters customary in aircraft; it leads to the use of expensive materials such as titanium, in order to further reduce the weight of the structures. The combination of these results makes aircraft components inordinately expensive, a two hundred horsepower engine which would cost in the order of two or three hundred dollars for a tank or a truck will customarily cost several thousand dollars for an aircraft and we can seriously consider the investment of thirty or forty thousand dollars to achieve the same two hundred horsepower at still less weight by the use of a gas turbine. This high cost of components results in the necessity in our supply management operations for even more stringent control on their use and distribution. This aspect of aircraft design leads to very close tolerances and fits and the requirement for skilled mechanics to perform operations which in comparable maintenance operations on other pieces of equipment would require only average skill. Our pleas for highly skilled mechanics to properly maintain our aviation equipment do not entirely represent an over-concern for our own problems but the fact that the mechanics must be sympathetic with the high precision which the designing engineers expect to be maintained in their aircraft. As an example, while modern automotive engine design specifies the torque of the cylinder head bolts, a reasonable approximation of this requirement by a normal backyard mechanic is sufficient to insure that the engine will operate successfully and safely. On the other hand, a similar degree of carelessness in torquing the bolts on an aircraft engine could well result in an unforeseen failure and an embarrassing situation. While all of us have been able, from time to time, to overhaul the rear-end of a truck in the field using normal soldier mechanics, to endeavor to overhaul the transmission of a helicopter, which employs roughly the same mechanical principles, without special care to run Zyglo and Magnaflux inspections of all the components and to reassemble under ideal conditions of cleanliness and care, can only result in a lost of a nine or ten thousand dollar assembly, and perhaps the entire aircraft. In our research and development effort and in our production engineering, we make every effort to impress upon the aircraft manufacturers the necessity for designing their equipment as ruggedly as possible and to stress the ease of maintenance characteristics essential for military equipment. On the other hand, it is very easy to design a helicopter transmission that will last almost indefinitely but which no known rotor system can lift off the ground and our objectives in these areas must always be tempered by the fact that we can only afford so much reliability and ruggedness and still achieve a machine which will fly. A delicate compromise exists between the strength which we would like to see in our components in order to insure maximum usability in the Army and at the same time, secure a reasonable amount of performance for the money invested. Our biggest problem remains in this area since due to the infancy of helicopter design and indeed aeronautics as a whole, it is extraordinarily difficult to balance out what is the ideal proportion of weight to devote to the various components of a flying machine. There are many other detailed differences between aircraft and other items of equipment as far as their design and resultant logistic support requirements are concerned. Among these are the fact that aircraft components are normally removed before difficulties in operation are experienced on the basis of engineering analysis of their expected trouble-free life. For example, the engine on an L-19 observation aircraft, if operating successfully, is removed after one thousand hours of use and sent to an overhaul facility. Similarly, the transmission on an H-19 helicopter is removed after four hundred and fifty hours and replaced by a new or rebuilt transmission. These changes, known as "time change components" are made in order to insure that the aircraft is safe to operate for its full mission and to obviate failures in flight. These time allowances are established at the original design stage by the aircraft manufacturer's engineers assisted by engineers from the Air Force or the Navy. Based on experience gained in the tests of new aircraft, these times are gradually extended as it becomes apparent that within the scheduled time, no difficulties are encountered. Thus, for example the time service life of certain aircraft engines have been known to gradually improve until they were authorized for operation for over two thousand hours. Unfortunately, in order to extend these times it is necessary to have complete information on how successfully the components are reaching their currently scheduled time, an extraordinarily difficult program to implement in our widely dispersed aircraft fleet. These time change components are, of course, very expensive and we must have a liberal supply of them in order to have them overhauled and reconditioned independently of the airframe. For example, we buy as many as one hundred percent extra transmissions for our cargo helicopters or even fifty percent extra engines for a light airplane. This would compare with a requirement for less than one percent spare engines in a truck procurement program. Most other aircraft parts are required on an extremely random basis and the fact that we have issued a part is no criteria that we will ever require such a part again nor, contrariwise, is the fact that we have not issued the part is any true criteria that we will not require it. This is due to the fact that the vast majority of the line items comprising an aircraft are subject to random failures due to mishandling of the aircraft, mistakes or accidents by ground crews and mechanics, random failures due to fatigue or other unknown stress accumulations and similar unpatterned demands. As an example, in an evaluation of the parts required to support an entire wing of B-47's, the Rand Corporation discovered that well over forth thousand items were required but one in a "wing-year" of flight time. Nevertheless, the unavailability of any one of these parts would have resulted in the grounding of these expensive pieces of equipment. Similarly, there is thus no regular pattern of demand which can be constructed on the basis of past requirements. The Army supply system as a whole is based on an assumption that if we required ten parts in one hundred and eighty days, we would require five in ninety days or twenty in a year and that the stock level can be computed on the basis of a linear equation. Experience, to date, seems to indicate, however, that this pattern does not hold for the vast majority of line items making up aircraft support and that we must determine not only the average monthly demand but the maximum, minimum and median one-time demand and use sophisticated probability computations in order to determine appropriate stock levels. Another problem of aircraft logistics arises from the rapidly changing components that go to make up an aircraft. While we have long standardized on the L-19 as the observation aircraft of the Army, and to all intents and purposes have but one aircraft to support, when you get down to the spare parts level, you discover that the L-19 is actually made up of some four or five thousand stocked line items and fifteen or twenty thousand items which are not stocked and that all of these items are rapidly changing either to secure a slightly higher degree of performance, to reduce still further the empty weight, to correct a deficiency which has developed in operating experience or for some other reason. The consequence of this is that we are constantly engaged in evaluating the affectivity of the parts in our supply system to determine whether they are usable on current aircraft and similar property management aspects of this problem. Frequently we have found that we have had to void for obsolescence as much as thirty percent of the items procured to support a new aircraft. Before you leap to the immediate conclusion that the way to stop this is to fire all the engineers in the aircraft factories, I think we must take recognition of the fact that if an aircraft is not allowed to improve it can then be only made useful by retrogression and that the result of any freeze of design of the detailed components of which I am now speaking could result only in the procurement of unsatisfactory and obsolete equipment. The only progress in the development of newer aircraft has been through experience gained in building and operating earlier designs. We have arrived at the DC7 by way of its six predecessors and it could not have started as a full grown man without going through all these growing pains. More directly our current H-13H is the result of our experience and mistakes on the H-13B, C, D, and G and other models. Particularly, in the helicopter field, which we must remember is still only some fifteen or twenty years old, it is vitally necessary that changes of this type, however difficult to manage in the parts business, be encouraged rather than discouraged if we are to develop successive generations of increasingly more satisfactory and economical aircraft to fulfill our mission. Another major problem area in aircraft logistics lies in the extended lead-time that is required to secure an aircraft or a major component. The design and production time of a new aircraft runs between four and six years. In a "standardized" aircraft, this time is reduced to the order of two or two and one half years but still remains far in excess of that for most other Army equipment. In view of the fact that each increment of aircraft to our system, even of a type already in use, results in a necessity to increase our stock of spare engines, transmissions, propellers or rotor blades, etc., it is necessary that we introduce into the system at the same time an added increment of these components. Frequently, too, these components are of a new and improved design to go with the new model aircraft since very seldom are successive contracts for identical aircraft. Thus, our current procurement of the H-13, for example, is the H-13H which represents the seventh major model change in this aircraft since we started buying them about ten years ago. These new requirements for special parts and the assemblages required for time compliance changes are normally secured at a so-called provisioning conference. This provisioning conference, held at the manufacturer's plant, consists of a group of people from my organization, the using units in the field and the manufacturer who go over the aircraft, drawing by drawing (some thirty or forty thousand drawings being required for a normal Army aircraft) to determine how many of the parts will be in our supply system and if any parts currently on hand can be used. Based on these determinations and the programmed flying hours published by DCS/OPS, we determine the quantities of each part to be procured to support the aircraft as it is introduced into the system. This sounds like an orderly procedure until you realize that it is normally held some six months after the contract is signed for the aircraft and consequently a year to a year and a half before it is ever flyable and therefore purely on the basis of the engineers' best estimates on how the things are going to work out. As if this were not enough, frequently after the design conference, the engineers at the manufacturer's establishment decide that the particular engine, transmission or what have you, under discussion, is not the best for the new aircraft and therefore they desire to design another one. This, of course, may have a drastic effect not only on what we buy but how many we will require to support our new aircraft. It is this process that frequently results in our having to cancel and get rid of parts which were never applicable to any aircraft that was actually produced. At the same time, of course, we cannot take the obvious solution that we will not procure any aircraft or parts until a firm decision has been made as to what aircraft or parts will be most acceptable and then freeze our production design. This information is only obtainable by actual use of the aircraft and discovering its deficiencies. In a "trial and error" system, which this business often is, you are committed to do the trials and make the errors in order to progress. As a consequence of this problem, we have several hundred million dollars worth of parts on order for a year and a half or two years at a time without any knowledge as to whether the parts will, in fact, be usable on our equipment and precisely at what rate they will be required. I think the Army's system of supply management is a good one and the more time I spend working with the major industries of this country, the more I am convinced that our supply system and our supply management principles are far more precise and rigorous than those employed in the commercial world. I think that our procedures of supply control and stock management reduce to the minimum the chances for mistakes and inadvertent errors. Our endeavor in the management of aircraft spares is to apply these principles and policies to the maximum. The general policies of maintenance and ease of maintenance required for complex mechanical equipment in the modern Army are likewise sound and we will endeavor to do our best to apply these to the aviation field. It is apparent to all of us that our ability to exploit all the new devices being made available to our modern Army is entirely dependent on our being able to maintain them in the field. As far as procurement is concerned, most procurement regulations reflect the basic policy of our country that Government business is the peoples' business, that everyone has an equal opportunity to share in it and that the function of the Government contracting agency is to secure a satisfactory product for the least expense without necessarily seeking either the best or the most logical solution which might be available in the commercial world. These principles, too, we seek, the best we know how, to apply to the aviation field. I hope, however, in this brief discussion of some of the peculiarities of the aviation business, I have called your attention to the fact that the aircraft and its industry is in many respects a peculiar beast; that in many respects our relationship with our manufacturers is considerably different than our relationships with our other contractors and that the requirements of the aircraft, itself, are in many respects quite different from those of normal Army equipment. Our function is to integrate the best aspects of Army logistics, the requirements of the law and the management principles of the Department of the Army into the idiosyncrasies of the aviation business. This is a difficult and at times frustrating job but offers an increasing and intensive challenge to the imagination.