by Bill Fawcett
To free up cash for the needed upgrades and properly maintain the bomber fleet, the Air Force decided to mothball 26 B-1s. With over 25 percent fewer planes, more remaining spare parts and maintenance personnel could then be committed to keeping the rest of the B-1s flight ready.
Upgrading Geek Warfare
So if it doesn’t do all you want, make it do more. This is called redefining the mission (or saving your stars). The B-1 was to receive a $2.75 billion conventional weapon upgrade to handle the new Joint Strike Weapon (JSOW) and the laser-guided and famously accurate Joint Direct Attack Munition (JDAM) by 2004. The Defensive Upgrade Program (DSUP) divided upgrade into five parts, lettering each set of upgrades from A through E, modifying portions of the ALQ-161 to improve jamming, threat determination, and emitter detection. The ALE-50 towed decoy array would also be added to augment the B-1’s limited ECM abilities.
The ALE-50 is a smallish cylinder with tail fins that is trailed out behind the plane on a tether. It emits a radar signal that will show up as a very large blip on an enemy radar screen, or better yet in the radar homing system of an incoming SAM. So long as the emitter is showing blip that is bigger than the plane, the missile is fooled into killing the decoy.
It was not until December 1998 that the B-1 finally proved itself by flying its first combat mission.
Operation Desert Fox was three nights of retaliatory air strikes against Iraq following Saddam Hussein’s expulsion of U.N. nuclear weapons inspectors. A pair of B-1s flew out of Oman to hit the Republican Guard barracks at Al Kut. The B-1s were not fitted out yet with the ALE-50 towed decoy and they still lacked the capability to drop Precision Guided Munitions or PGMs. The mission was a success, but the need for an ECM escort was a sad hint that the pre-modified B-1 could not operate in a high-threat environment without help. The Al Kut barracks was located in the heart of the “Super Missile Engagement Zone,” a dense cluster of Soviet-made SAMs and AA guns.
The bomber’s proponents pointed to the mission as proof that the B-1 could do its job. The critics noted that the plane was finally making its combat debut 12 years after entering service, compared to the six years that elapsed between introduction and combat for the F-117 Stealth fighter (really a strike aircraft).
Another war would only add to the argument.
Operation Allied Force, also known as the Kosovo War, saw the B-1 fly into action again. Serbia’s cultural identity was forged by its defeat at the hands of the Ottoman Turks at Kosovo in 1389, after which most Serbs migrated north. The area now had a majority Albanian population which Serbian strongman Slobodan Milosevic was trying to clear with his army. NATO intervened to prevent the ethnic cleansing campaign from going through. The resulting 78-day war was largely fought by U.S. airpower.
By the spring of 1999, only seven B-1s had undergone the Block D upgrade of the Defensive Upgrade Program (DSUP), which gave those planes the ability to drop smart bombs and operate the ALE-50 towed decoy. Four B-1s (and one spare aircraft) were sent to the RAF base at Fairford, U.K., with another four following later in the air campaign. The aircraft usually operated in pairs, coupled with a flight of B-52s. While the B-1 was JDAM-capable, the scarce smart bombs were saved for B-2 missions.
Again, dumb bombs would be dropped on dumb targets.
The ALE-50 proved its worth. Thirty SAMs were fired at B-1s during the air war, and 10 of those missiles had achieved lock-ons. The towed decoys were able to divert all incoming missiles.
(It should be noted that only one plane was lost during the war—an F-117 Stealth fighter that was downed by a very lucky SAM shot. The wreckage of the plane was promptly airlifted to Russia for technical analysis. Serbian anti-war protestors meanwhile sported signs saying “Sorry, we didn’t know the plane was invisible.”)
While the handful of B-1s dropped 20 percent of all bombs during Operation Allied Force, Air Force secretary James Roche was critical of the plane’s performance. Only Block D aircraft operated during the war, and even then it wasn’t until the war’s second week, after the bulk of Serbia’s air defenses had been suppressed. The Air Force was still trying to make the B-1 operable in a high-threat environment, without success.
Even the plane’s readiness rate became an issue—again. During Operation Allied Force, B-1 mission capability rates (MCRs) averaged around 90 percent. Wartime ignores costs in favor of maintaining capabilities, even if that means throwing lots of expensive spare parts at problematic airframes. After the war, MCRs fell back to between 51 and 62 percent—still well below the USAF’s requirement of 75 percent mission readiness.
The B-1 saw service again in the Afghanistan War (Operation Enduring Freedom), which followed the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks.
The eight B-1s used flew only five percent of the missions, dropping 40 percent of the bombs. But Afghanistan had a minimal air force and air defense network, easily destroyed on the first night of fighting. The B-1, equipped with PGMs, now filled in as a “bomb truck,” available for on-call air strikes to support U.S. Special Forces and local Northern Alliance militias.
While this helped win the war, it was proof that the B-1 worked best over enemy nations that could not contest its presence. Afghanistan could not even mount a low-level threat to stop the B-1 or any other plane. It was Star Wars versus dirt-poor riflemen. The only B-1 that was lost went down in the Indian Ocean due to multiple technical malfunctions. The B-52 also served in Afghanistan as a “bomb truck.” And it was a cheaper, older, less troublesome airplane, too.
By the time of the Iraq War in 2003, the B-1 had become even more of a high-tech bomb truck, able to drop JDAMs on demand. Air Force generals raved about the Bone, likening it to a “roving linebacker,” as its long range translated into long loitering time over the battle area. The plane flew only one percent of all sorties during Operation Iraqi Freedom, running from March to May in 2003. About 43 percent of all JDAMs dropped were carried by the B-1. But it should be noted that the B-1 flew its missions around 20,000 feet above the battlefield, well above SAM and flak range. The Iraqi air force never put up a fight. Iraq’s degraded air defense system was no longer a threat.
By day two of the war, a single B-1 flew over Baghdad, the center of the Super Missile Engagement Zone, albeit with EA-6Bs for jamming escort. The Iraqis fired a salvo of SAMs. None hit. The lone Bone dropped 23 of 24 JDAMs to eliminate six antenna towers that were jamming the Global Positioning System radio signals that U.S. forces relied on for accurate navigation and targeting.
The B-1 finally got its star moment on April 7, when Seek and Destroy got word that Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein and his sons Uday and Qusay were meeting at a restaurant in Baghdad’s Mansour district. It took 47 minutes for the intelligence tip to wend its way through the chain of command to “bombs away.” (The B-1 dropped its load 12 minutes after getting the order.) Unfortunately, Saddam and his sons were not having lunch at the restaurant when the bombs hit.
Throughout the war, B-1 crews got targeting information en route or on station. The plane was “on call” with a load of 24 JDAMs, each one able to hit its target accurately. Mission readiness rates were well above 90 percent, as the Air Force threw lots of spare parts and maintenance people at the 10 B-1s deployed for Operation Iraqi Freedom. But the same could be said about the B-52, F-15, F-16, and F-18. Each one was cheaper to own and operate than the B-1, and could drop GPS- or laser-guided bombs just as accurately.
Money, Money, Money
The Air Force did its best to get the most out of its B-1 investment. The plane’s awkward status as a “middle child” between the B-52 and B-2 did not help much as the Air Force planned the near future of its bomber fleet.
Northrop Grumman smelled an opportunity, offering to restart the B-2 line, planning 40 aircraft to be built over 10 years for only $29.5 billion. The offer got no takers at the Pentagon or on Capitol Hill.
Retired Air Force General Richard Hawley testified before Congress that the B-1 and the B-52 should be grounded. “The b
omber force ought to have one bomber,” Hawley said, while the Air Force was supporting three different planes at greater expense.
In the end, the Air Force did nothing daring. It trimmed the B-1 fleet by a third to concentrate its remaining maintenance dollars to improve readiness.
The upgrade program took the next budget hit. “The tough decision to terminate the DSUP was made because we can really no longer sacrifice capability in pursuit of a post-2010 defense system plagued by escalating problems with cost and schedule,” explained Major General John Curley, director of the Air Force global power program. The DSUP suffered three “re-base-linings” and two “cost breaches” from its start in 1997 to its sooner-than-expected demise in 2003.
The cost savings would be used to fund development of Lockheed’s AGM-158 Joint Air to Surface Standoff Missile (JASSM). This weapon would allow the B-1 to hit targets from 200 to 500 nautical miles away. In effect, the B-1 would be assuming the standoff bombing mission that the cheaper B-52 performed for decades.
The technology of air defense is still evolving, but the Bone’s ALQ-161 ECM suite will not keep pace. The B-1 will still need an electronic warfare escort to compensate for its ECM shortcomings. Even if the DSUP program were completed, the B-1 would not be able to handle a “non-permissive high-threat environment.” That job would still go to the stealthy B-2s and F-117s, or better yet cruise missiles or UAVs.
Another update will be the “sniper pod,” which would allow B-1 crews to get a visual on ground targets slated for close air support. During the Iraq and Afghan wars, escorting F-16s had to visually confirm targets before B-1s could paste them with bombs. But the Lockheed “sniper pod” is also slated for installation on the F-15, F-16, A-10, and B-52—all cheaper aircraft that will perform the same mission.
As the B-1 gets older, it will become more expensive to operate, requiring more maintenance hours per hour of flight time. Some day it will have to be replaced, hopefully by a better plane that won’t be plagued by budget overruns, a lengthy development time, and balky technology.
Hope is cheap.
The replacement will probably be expensive.
“We can lick gravity, but paperwork is a bit harder.”
—Werner Von Braun
Faster Than a Speeding Bullet
Michelle Poche
What’s faster than a speeding bullet and more expensive than the crown jewels? Answer: the super jet called the Concorde. The first civilian aircraft designed for supersonic transport, the Concorde traveled faster than any other civilian aircraft and at more than twice the speed of sound. The jet was widely considered to be one of the greatest engineering accomplishments of the twentieth century. Yet, for all the awe it inspired, it had equal numbers of detractors that reviled the machine which skimmed the boundaries of space and time.
The sleek, sexy jet was expected to be the crowning glory of Anglo-French ingenuity. It could transport passengers across the Atlantic twice as quickly as a Boeing 747 was able to, while serving up gourmet meals, silk pajamas, and travel gifts, all without a cocktail peanut in sight. A flight from London to New York took only three hours and fifteen minutes, instead of the usual seven plus, and was a luxurious experience from start to finish. With Dom Perignon flowing, Maine lobster, caviar, and truffles served on white china dishes, passengers pressed back into plush seats upon takeoff to be whisked to the skies with speeds in excess of 1400 miles per hour. Passengers aboard the Concorde could view the curvature of the earth as they climbed into the stratosphere, a privilege once held exclusively by astronauts or test pilots. And at eleven miles above the earth, the thinner atmosphere revealed the aurora in its full glory. If the departure schedule permitted, one could even watch the sun rise in London and again upon arriving in New York. After such aviation decadence, subsonic commercial airline travel had about as much appeal as a cramped bus ride across the country with the in-laws.
In the mid 1950s, super sonic transport, or SST, seemed poised to be a practical and profitable means of air travel. Developers held dreams of commercial success that would transform passenger aviation and herald a new era of high-speed travel. They believed the increased speed economy would offset the huge amount of fuel needed for supersonic travel. One SST plane could replace three existing planes, creating further savings on maintenance costs. The plane was designed with transatlantic flights in mind, especially the lucrative New York to London route. The developers dreamed of stratospheric profits, but initially, the only thing hitting the stratosphere was the cost of the jet itself.
In 1962, hoping to offset those escalating costs, French and British designers, Bristol and Sud, merged their efforts, in an attempt to co-produce the world’s first civilian SST plane. This development triggered panic in the U.S. aviation industry. Fear that this new supersonic transport would outpace the more traditional long-range designs prompted Congress to approve funding for SST development. Congress selected the Lockheed L-2000 and the Boeing 2707, hoping to engineer an even more advanced aircraft that would be capable of outpacing their European rivals. The promise of national prestige brought the Soviets into this technological competition against the West with their own SST creation, the TU-144. The race was officially on.
The clear leaders of this aviation match-up were the British and French team that secured 200 initial orders for the Concorde, years before it was flight ready. But things got stalled long before takeoff. The environmental movement was on the rise, and as awareness grew, so did concern over the SST’s powerful turbo jet engines which produced high levels of nitrogen compounds thought to damage the ozone layer. Additionally, increasing worry over the noise pollution created by the sonic boom from the planes prompted U.S. lawmakers to withdraw funding on SST development, effectively taking the U.S. out of the race for supersonic supremacy.
But the heavily-invested Europeans continued development. By 1975, one by one the world’s airlines started withdrawing their options to purchase the Concorde. In the end, only 20 were actually built, and all of them were purchased by Air France and British Airways.
In 1976, those airlines began Concorde flights to the U.S. Although the Concorde seemed to epitomize elegance and luxury for the sophisticated traveler, its glamour could not muffle the noise from the gas-guzzling four engines. The fastest civilian aircraft on earth had earned the distinction of being the loudest plane ever built. On one trip to India, the sound alone caused many windows in the Delhi ATC Tower to shatter. With outcry from residents on both sides of the Atlantic, the Concorde was quickly forbidden from flying supersonically, faster than sound, first over urban areas, and eventually it was restricted to supersonic travel only over the water. Those restrictions caused the web of planned routes to disappear overnight.
In spite of the new restrictions in place, the Concorde continued to be loathed by both environmentalists and local residents in its flight path. It proved to be highly inefficient at low speeds. Merely taxiing down the runway could cost the jet two tons of fuel. One Concorde pilot actually lost his job when he emptied the fuel tanks just taxiing to his gate upon landing. Besides the strikes caused by the noise and expense, the big plane even managed to alienate animal lovers when speculation arose blaming the Concorde for the disappearance of thousands of racing pigeons. A geophysicist in California found evidence that shock waves from supersonic aircrafts destroyed the homing pigeons’ ability to hear low-frequency sounds that assisted them on their return flights home.
For years, residents living near New York’s JFK airport fought to have noise restrictions placed on the Concorde. While federal laws enacted during that time required other airlines to produce quieter engines, the Concorde was exempt because the engineers could not find a way to make the SST plane any quieter. Even flying sub-sonically, the Concorde and its massive turbo jet engines generated tremendous noise: car alarms screeched, windows shook, and telephone conversation became impossible near the ear-piercing roar of the Concorde taking flight.
With its mass
ive appetite for fuel, its dwindling number of viable routes, and its sparsely populated flights, the Concorde became a financial nightmare.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, Air France flight 4590 crashed outside Paris on July 25, 2000, killing everyone on board. The cause? Debris on the runway from a previous, poorly maintained Continental flight shredded a tire. Shrapnel from the tire impacted the Concorde, severing an electrical line and causing a fuel tank to catch fire. The crew tried to compensate by shutting down one engine and using the other to climb out of danger but the damaged landing gear would not retract and the remaining engine surged erratically, causing the plane to pitch, roll, and slam into a nearby hotel. The resulting public relations nightmare heralded the beginning of the end for the already troubled plane. Continental was cited for the poor maintenance that caused pieces to fall from their plane, but it was Concorde and its passengers who paid the price.
Engineers made major improvements to the aircraft, and it made a brief comeback. However, with passenger revenue falling while the costs of maintaining the aging jets continued to rise, it was a losing battle. After the 9/11 attacks drastically decreased air traffic, it became a rout. In 2003 the Concorde was permanently retired. For many, the cost of speed was just too high a price to pay.
“The reason the American Army does so well in wartime, is that war is chaos, and the American Army practices it on a daily basis.”
—from a postwar debriefing of a German General
When the Chopper Gets Chopped