REVIEW - Air Power Studies

AIR POWER 

REVIEW 

Volume 12 Number 1 Spring 2009 

France and the Development of British Military Aviation 

Air Vice-Marshal Peter Dye 

The Myths and Realities of Air Anti - Submarine Warfare 

during the Great War 

Col John Abbatiello 

Through a Glass Darkly: The Royal Air Force and 

the lessons of the Spanish Civil War 1936-1939 

Sqn Ldr Brian Armstrong 

British Thinking on Air Power - The Evolution of AP3000 

Gp Capt Christopher Finn 

The Quest for Relevant Air Power - Continental Europe 

Dr Christian Anrig 

Air Power and the Russian - Georgian Conflict of 2008: 

Lessons Learned and Russian Military Reforms 

Stéphane Lefebvre/Roger McDermont 

Letter from America 

Gp Capt Carl Scott 

Historic Book Review 

Air Cdre Neville Parton 

Book Reviews 

Viewpoint 

Sqn Ldr Andrew Wilson 

Centre for Air Power Studies 

ISSN 1463-6298

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AIR POWER REVIEW 

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Gp Capt N Meadows, DRAFD JSCSC 

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Dr C F Anrig, Dean RAFC 

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Print: 

No1 AIDU, RAF Northolt

1 

France and the Development of British 

Military Aviation 

Air Vice-Marshal Peter Dye 

14 

The Myths and Realities of Air Anti - 

Submarine Warfare during the 

Great War 

Col John Abbatiello 

32 

Through a Glass Darkly: The Royal Air 

Force and the lessons of the Spanish 

Civil War 1936-1939 

Sqn Ldr Brian Armstrong 

56 

British Thinking on Air Power - The 

Evolution of AP3000 

Gp Capt Christopher Finn 

68 

The Quest for Relevant Air Power - 

Continental Europe 

Dr Christian Anrig 

92 

Air Power and the Russian - Georgian 

Conflict of 2008: Lessons Learned and 

Russian Military Reforms 

Stéphane Lefebvre/Roger McDermont 

114 


Gp Capt Carl Scott 

124 


Air Cdre Neville Parton 

134 

Book Reviews 

140 

Viewpoint 

Sqn Ldr Andrew Wilson

Foreword 

This edition of Air Power Review 

covers a wide and eclectic range of 

topics, but all – even the apparently 

historical essays - are linked by their 

relevance to the current development 

of air power. For example, while 

Franco-British co-operation in the 

air is almost as old as aviation itself, 

recent initiatives to renew these 

links, particularly in the sharing of 

doctrinal and conceptual thinking, 

are very pertinent, given France’s 

aspiration to return to NATO as a full 

military partner. In this context, 

Peter Dye’s opening essay is 

particularly relevant in reminding us 

how critical the French contribution 

was to the development of British 

military aviation, an influence now 

largely forgotten. He examines the 

political, social and military aspects 

of the relationship between Britain 

and France to demonstrate how 

Trenchard’s vision for an independent 

air force and the enduring doctrine 

and ethos of the RAF were shaped 

by this interaction. As always with 

effective examples of co-operation, 

personalities were all-importantand 

the relationship between Trenchard 

and his French counterpart, 

Commandant Paul du Peuty, was key. 

Similarly, the recent focus on airland 

integration has tended to force 

the relationship between the air 

and maritime components into the 

background. John Abbateilo’s essay 

on the work of the Royal Naval Air 

Service and Royal Air Force in antisubmarine 

warfare in the First World 

War is, therefore, a timely reminder 

that the joint campaign may be airmaritime 

as well as air-land. He 

examines three categories of antisubmarine 

mission to argue that 

although bombing and patrolling 

contributed to the failure of the 

unrestricted U-boat campaign, 

convoys served as the ultimate 

antidote and their effectiveness 

was hugely enhanced by aviation. 

Abbateilo challenges some aspects 

of the accepted historical record 

and concludes that command and 

organizational constraints were the 

root cause of the inconsistencies 

that were so apparent in the 

employment of aircraft in the 

maritime environment. 

Brian Armstrong also challenges 

received wisdom in a fascinating 

study of the impact of the Spanish 

Civil War on British air power 

thinking. Although the RAF is 

generally perceived to have ignored 

the lessons of the Spanish Civil War, 

he uses detailed primary research to 

demonstrate that rigorous analysis 

was, in fact, conducted through the 

work of two special joint air war 

intelligence committees, and charts 

the influence of their findings on the 

RAF’s leadership as critical decisions 

were made in the late thirties about

omber, fighter, close-support and 

weapons policy. 

The development of doctrine may, 

on the face of it, be a dry topic, but 

Chris Finn’s article is also particularly 

timely in providing a historiography 

of the AP3000 series of strategic air 

doctrine; his article provides a very 

useful background to the genesis 

of the long awaited Fourth Edition 

of AP3000, which is just about to be 

published, and it should be noted 

that this has itself been heavily 

influenced by the thinking outlined 

by Air Commodore Paul Colley in 

his article ‘Soldiers are from Mars, 

Airmen are from Venus – Does Air 

Power do what it says on the Tin?’ in 

APR Volume 11, No 2. 

Russia’s use of air power in the rapid 

military victory over Georgia in 

August 2008 is clearly a topic of real 

contemporary interest for air power 

practioners. Despite her success 

in the South Caucasus, within two 

months of the end of hostilities, 

Russia had initiated an ambitious 

military reform and modernization 

agenda to reflect lessons learned from 

the campaign. Stéphane Lefebvre 

and Roger McDermott examine 

Russian airpower in the Georgia war 

in the context of this reform plan, 

and also consider its implications 

for Russia’s future use of air power; 

their analysis of the operational 

failings of Russian airpower and their 

critical examination of the underlying 

assumptions of the reform process 

are of particular interest. 

The inauguration of Barak Obama 

has, if anything, increased the 

rhetoric about the transatlantic air 

power capability gap and Europe’s 

contribution to current operations, 

particularly in support of NATO’s 

mission in Afghanistan. Christian 

Anrig’s essay regarding Europe’s 

‘Quest for Relevant Air Power’ is 

again very timely. He scrutinises 

the realities of European 

participation in deployed operations 

and examines European alliance 

frameworks, air power deficiencies 

and potential remedies to propose 

four potential guidelines for the 

development of relevant and flexible 

European air power. 

Finally, this edition of APR concludes 

with three regular features: 

Group Captain Carl Scott’s ‘Letter 

from America’, which provides a 

fascinating insight into deterrence 

in the contemporary world, Air 

Commodore Neville Parton’s historic 

book review of Lord Tedder’s famous 

1947 work, Air Power in War, an 

illuminating insight into the thinking 

of one of the prime architects of airland 

integration, and a provocative 

Viewpoint from Squadron Leader 

Andrew Wilson, who asserts that 

‘They Did It To Themselves.’ He 

bemoans the consequences stemming

from what he regards as the airmen’s 

tendency to over-promise and 

under-deliver; this is a controversial 

contention and APR would welcome 

an alternative perspective to continue 

this particular debate. 

Finally, the next edition of Air 

Power Review (summer 2009) will 

be another in the recent series of 

‘specials,’ themed around the topic 

of Space to celebrate the fortieth 

anniversary of the lunar landing and 

explore the increasing importance of 

space in current military operations. 

Articles on any air power-related 

themes are now welcome for the 

winter 2009 edition of APR, and 

potential contributors may also wish 

to be aware that as 2010 marks the 

twentieth anniversary of the RAF’s 

deployment to Iraq, the summer 

edition will be devoted to an analysis 

of the two decades of continuous air 

operations conducted in and over 

that state. As there must be few 

serving personnel who have been 

unaffected by Iraq there should 

be no shortage of contributions 

and viewpoints, which should be 

submitted in accordance with the 

guidance at the RAF Centre for Air 

Power Studies (RAF CAPS) website, 

www.airpowerstudies.co.uk. 

RAF CAPS Prizes 

The Air Power Review editorial board 

sat on 12 February 2009 to consider 

the award of prizes for 2008. The 

Gordon Shephard Memorial Prize is 

awarded annually to the best essay 

on an air power-related theme 

submitted to the RAF Centre for Air 

Power Studies (RAF CAPS); except 

for the war years, the competition 

has taken place annually since 1919, 

the prize money being provided from 

the income of a trust established in 

1918 by Sir Horatio Hale Shephard 

in memory of his son, Brigadier 

G F Shephard DSO MC RAF. The 

board determined that the Gordon 

Shephard Memorial Prize for 2007, 

worth £200, should be awarded to 

Wing Commander Rob O’Dell, 

for his article ‘Electronic Warfare 

and the Night Bomber Offensive’ 

published in APR Volume 10, Number 

1, Spring 2007. The prize for 2008 

was awarded to Wing Commander 

Simon Harper, for his article ‘What is 

Meant by Harmonisation and What 

are the Implications for the RAF?’, 

published in APR Volume 11, Number 

1, Spring 2008, and the subject of 

Wing Commander Harper’s excellent 

presentation at the Chief of the Air 

Staff’s Air Power Conference in 

November 2008. Second place in the 

Gordon Shephard Memorial Prize 

Competition is worth £175, and was 

awarded to Wing Commander Bryan 

Hunt for his timely and informative 

article in APR Volume 11, Number 

1, Spring 2008, ‘Air Power and 

Psychological Warfare Operations, 

Malaya 1948-1960.’ 

The Park Prize is awarded annually 

to the best essay on an air powerrelated 

theme submitted to the RAF 

Centre for Air Power Studies by 

a serving RAF junior officer, noncommissioned 

officer, airman or 

airwoman. The winner of the Park 

Prize for 2008 is Flight Lieutenant 

Kenny Fuchter for a well-researched 

and original essay ‘Air Power and 

China in the 21 st Century,’ published 

in APR Volume 11, Number 3, 

Winter 2008. Finally, The Salmond 

Prize is awarded to the best essay 

on an air power-related theme 

submitted by a civilian or non-RAF 

serviceman or servicewomen of

any service or nationality, and was 

awarded to Major Andrew Roe for a 

lively account of interwar counterinsurgency 

operations in APR Volume 

11, Number 2, ‘Friends in High 

Places: Air power on the North-West 

Frontier of India.’ 

The APR editorial board congratulates 

all prize-winners. Details of the prizes 

and awards may be found at the RAF 

CAPS website and the Gordon 

Shephard Memorial Prize Competition 

is covered by a separate DIN.

“Air Power and the Environment: 

The Ecological Implications of Modern Air Warfare” 

The Conference of: 

The Air Power Studies Division, 

King’s College London 

and 

The Royal Air Force 


K ING’S 

College 

LONDON 


Concordia res parvae crescent 

“Work together to accomplish more” 

Royal Air Force College Cranwell 

United Kingdom 

26 and 27 August 2009 

Environmental responsibility already lies at the forefront of our western world 

perspective and is constantly growing in importance. Ecological activism, which 

used to be a fringe movement, has now become mainstream. In 2007 Al Gore and 

the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change won the Nobel Peace Prize (and an 

Oscar!) for their efforts to raise environmental awareness. Greenpeace, which uses 

“non-violent, creative confrontation to expose global environmental problems,” alone 

has no fewer than 220,000 members in the UK and 2.8 million worldwide. Ecologists, 

environmentalists, activists, lobbyists and of course strategists are already turning 

their attention to ecological aspects of modern warfare, including land mines, cluster 

ordnance, erosion and soil damage, air pollution, deforestation, nuclear testing and 

proliferation, oil spillage and fires, DU contamination, the disposal of ordnance, and 

so forth. It seems likely that such concerns will also become increasingly mainstream.

As a consequence, governments and their armed forces will doubtless be paying more 

attention to the serious ecological ramifications of conflict. Some already are. The 

Global Strategic Trends paper published by the MOD’s Development, Concepts and 

Doctrine Centre (DCDC) illustrates the importance now being placed on these matters 

by cutting-edge British strategists. Balancing strategic and operational needs with both 

military and environmental ethics is certainly not impossible, and responsible armed 

forces, including the Royal Air Force, are already thinking deeply about how best to 

balance what superficially seem to be (but actually are not) competing imperatives. 

This highly innovative conference – the first on this topic in the United Kingdom – will 

touch on several broader security themes and topics but will focus especially on the 

concepts and practices of modern air power and their environmental implications. 

This conference will be held at the historic and prestigious Royal Air Force College, the 

spiritual home of the RAF. The cost to attendees is £95. This covers accommodation for 

the night of Wednesday 26 August, all food including a Conference Dinner in College 

Hall and basic refreshments for the duration of the Conference. 

Welcome and Closing: Air Marshal Stephen Dalton, CB BSc FRAeS FCMI RAF, Chief 

of the Air Staff (Designate), 

Conference Convenor: Dr Joel Hayward, Dean of the Royal Air Force College 

Keynote Addresses: Victor W Sidel, MD, “The Impact of War on the Environment, 

Public Health, and Natural Resources’ and Dr Phillip S Meilinger, “The Role of Air 

Power in Reducing Collateral Damage in War” 

Speakers (This programme may be subject to alteration): 

• Air University, Panel Discussion, “Air Power: Environmental Security for AFRICOM” 

• Heather Hrychuk, “The Canadian Air Force’s Environmental Evolution” 

• Peter Lee, “Just War and the Environment: Rethinking Proportionality” 

• Michael J and Sarah Masterson, “Fighting the Good (Green) Fight?” 

• Jim Morgan and Terry Yonkers, “Air Power and the Environment within Combat 

Threat Zones: A Mission Support Contractor’s Perspective” 

• Evelyn Krache Morris, “The Forest and the Trees: Aerial Herbicide Spraying and 

the Environment” 

• Mark A Olinger, US Army, “Air Power and the Targeting of a Nation’s Energy 

Based Sector” 

• Chris Rein, USAF, “The Environmental Impact of the US Army Air Force’s 

Production and Training Infrastructure on the Great Plains” 

• Sebastian Ritchie, “The flooding of Walcheren Island, October 1944” 

• Tara Smith, “Legal Obligations and Voluntary Commitments: Should the 

Weakness of Environmental Humanitarian Law be a Cause for Concern?” 

• Toby Thacker, “Environmental Considerations in the Planning for the British 

Strategic Bombing of Germany, 1939-1945” 

• Mr Siemon Wezeman, “Cluster Munitions and the Environment” 

• Mr Dimitrios Ziakkas, “Building Synthetic Training in the Air” 

For more details and Registration go to http://www.airpowerstudies.co.uk/ 

august09conference.htm

Notes on Contributors 

Air Vice-Marshal Peter Dye served for 36 years in the Royal Air Force. 

Commissioned in 1972, he served in a variety of engineering related 

appointments as well as training and personnel policy. He joined the 

Royal Air Force Museum in 2008, as Deputy Director General and Director 

Collections. Awarded a Portal Fellowship in 2007, he is currently researching 

the Royal Flying Corp’s Logistic Organisation on the Western Front. He has 

written numerous articles over recent years for Air Power Review, largely 

relating to logistics. 

Colonel John J. Abbatiello, USAF, completed his PhD in War Studies at 

King’s College London in 2004. He is the author of Anti-Submarine Warfare in 

World War I: British Naval Aviation and the Defeat of the U-Boats (Routledge, 

2006), and he specializes in airpower, naval, and Great War history. Abbatiello 

is a command pilot with over 3,500 flying hours; he flew EC/KC-135, T-37 and 

E-8C JSTARS aircraft during his 22-year career. He currently serves as Deputy 

Head, Department of History, USAF Academy, Colorado. 

Squadron Leader Brian Armstrong retired from the RAF in 1997 following 

an 18-year career navigating Victor tankers and Tornado in the strike, attack 

and reconnaissance roles. He joined AgustaWestland Helicopters in 1998 and 

is currently researching the RAF’s attempts to ascertain the progress made in 

aerial warfare during the Spanish Civil War 1936-39 for his doctoral thesis. 

Group Captain Christopher Finn was an RAF navigator and weapons 

specialist with over 3,200 flying hours, mostly on the Buccaneer, and was twice 

awarded a Queen’s Commendation for Valuable Service in the Air. He was 

the UK laser-guided weapons specialist in AHQ Riyadh during the 1991 Gulf 

War and subsequently commanded the Navigator & Airman Aircrew School. 

A graduate of the MPhil in International Relations course at Cambridge 

University, he became Director Defence Studies (RAF) in June 2002. Upon 

retirement from the RAF, in October 2005, he became the Senior Air Power 

Lecturer (Operations) in the King’s College London Department at the Royal 

Air Force College Cranwell.

Doctor Christian F. Anrig is a King’s College London lecturer in Air Power 

Studies at the Royal Air Force College, Cranwell. He started his professional 

career in Switzerland and was a researcher at the Centre for Security Studies, 

ETH Zurich, from January 2004 until March 2007. His research interests include 

air power strategy and European security and defence policy. 

Stéphane Lefebvre is Section Head Strategic Analysis at Defence R&D 

Canada’s Centre for Operational Research and Analysis (DRDC CORA). 

From 1995 to 2006, Mr. Lefebvre was an intelligence analyst with the Canadian 

Security Intelligence Service (CSIS). Prior to joining CSIS, he had worked as a 

Defence Scientist (strategic analysis) at the Department of National Defence, 

and briefly served at NATO Headquarters and the then North Atlantic 

Assembly. In 1992-1993, he was the Marcel Cadieux Policy Planning Fellow at 

the Canadian Department of Foreign Affairs and International Trade. He has 

also lectured for the Canadian Forces Military College, and served as an army 

reserve intelligence officer for 12 years. 

Roger N. McDermott is an Honorary Senior Research Fellow, Department 

of Politics and International Relations, University of Kent at Canterbury 

(UK) and Senior Fellow in Eurasian Military Studies, Jamestown Foundation, 

Washington DC. McDermott is on the editorial board of ‘Central Asia and the 

Caucasus’ (Sweden) and recently published a monograph on Kazakhstan’s 

armed forces, Kazakhstan’s Defence Policy, Strategic Studies Institute, U.S. 

Army War College, Carlisle Barracks, U.S. February 2009. He specializes in 

defence and security issues in the former Soviet Union and has published 

widely in scholarly journals. He co-edited (with Anne C. Aldis), Russian 

Military Reform 1992-2002, London 2003.

France and the Development of 

British Military Aviation 

By Air Vice-Marshal Peter Dye 

Prior to WW1 no European country embraced powered flight more 

enthusiastically than France. French aviators, aircraft and aero-engine 

manufacturers led the world. Inevitable it was a Frenchman, Louis Bleriot, who 

first flew the English Channel. Not for 3 years was British military aviation was 

formally established as the Royal Flying Corps (RFC). 

The RFC relied heavily on French industry for its aircraft and aero-engines 

and French experience for its doctrine and organisation; French flying schools 

trained many of its pilots. The relationship continued through the First World 

War. Many aircraft and engines were purchased in France to help expand the 

RFC and to supplement shortfalls in British production. The RFC’s doctrine 

was also influenced by French experience, particularly in the employment of 

air power at Verdun. This was underscored by the close personal relationship 

between General Hugh Trenchard and his French counterparts, notably 

Commandant Paul du Peuty. 

The French contribution to British military aviation in its first critical years 

whilst significant has now largely been forgotten. The French influence was 

vital to the development of the RFC and central to Trenchard’s vision for an 

independent air service. This paper explores the political, social and military 

aspects of this relationship, including French influence on British thinking 

about air power and on the enduring doctrine and ethos of the RAF.

Introduction 

There was no European country 

that embraced powered 

fl ight more enthusiastically 

than France. The Wright brothers’ 

achievements and particularly 

their visit to Europe in 1908, when 

they fl ew in front of huge crowds, 

inspired adventurers, entrepreneurs 

and industrialists alike. French 

aviators, aircraft and aero-engine 

manufacturers, soon led Europe 

– if not the world – in realising the 

potential of aviation. The names 

of these early pioneers became as 

familiar to the British public as those 

of American and Russian astronauts 

half a century later. France was also 

not slow to appreciate the military 

potential of aircraft and quickly 

established pre-eminence in the 

practical development of this new 

weapon. Britain, concerned by the 

growing power of Germany, could 

only look with admiration, and envy, 

at the innovation and energy of the 

French aircraft industry and their 

government’s willingness to invest 

in military aviation. Indeed, one 

British pioneer encouraged his fellow 

experimenters to follow his example 

and emigrate to France in order to 

escape the ridicule which greeted all 

attempts at fl ight in England. 

It was perhaps inevitable that it 

should be a Frenchman, Louis Bleriot, 

who fi rst crossed the English Channel 

by air, but it would be another three 

years before British military aviation 

was formally established; in the form 

of the Royal Flying Corps (RFC). In 

the years prior to the outbreak of 

the First World War, the RFC relied 

on French industry to provide the 

majority of its aircraft and aeroengines, 

while drawing heavily on 

French experience for its organisation 

and using French fl ying schools to 

train many of its pilots. This close 

relationship would continue, and 

even strengthen, during the First 

World War. Substantial quantities 

of aircraft and aero-engines were 

purchased in France to help expand 

the RFC and to make good shortfalls 

in British production. The RFC’s 

emerging doctrine was also greatly 

infl uenced by French wartime 

experience, particularly the 

contribution of air power in the 

defence of Verdun. This was 

underscored by the close personal 

relationship between Brigadier- 

General Hugh Trenchard, Head of 

the RFC on the Western Front, and 

his counterparts in the French Air 

Services, notably Colonel Paul du 

Peuty. Trenchard readily 

acknowledged the debt he owed 

these offi cers and their infl uence on 

his thinking and on the standards of 

the RFC. 

1

2 

The French contribution to British 

military aviation in its fi rst critical 

years was undoubtedly signifi cant, 

but is now largely forgotten. French 

ideas, experience, doctrine and 

equipment were vital to the 

development of the RFC and were 

central to Trenchard’s vision for an 

independent air service. The Anglo- 

American bomber offensive of the 

Second World War owed much to 

this legacy – a debt that can still be 

seen in the history and traditions of 

the Royal Air Force (RAF). This paper 

will explore the political, social and 

military aspects of this relationship, 

including French infl uence on British 

thinking about air power and on the 

enduring doctrine and ethos of 

the RAF. 

The Beginning 

The development of aviation in 

Edwardian Britain is a story of 

individual endeavour in the face of 

political and military indifference. 

For the visionaries, who had 

wholeheartedly embraced aviation, 

and instinctively understood its 

immense potential, the Government’s 

attitude was incomprehensible. But, 

for those tasked with running the 

Empire, aviation was seen as an 

expensive toy that offered little 

– particularly at a time when military 

budgets were under pressure from 

the cost of post-Victorian 

modernization. These factors weighed 

heavily in the political debate, as 

possibly did the view that, invented 

by the Americans, and enthusiastically 

taken up by the French, aviation was 

not something that should properly 

excite an Englishman. 

For the media, notably newspapers 

such as the Daily Mail owned by Lord 

Northcliffe, aviation generated 

considerable publicity and provided 

a stick to beat the Government. 

Nevertheless, of all the nations, 

Great Britain remained uniquely 

sceptical of the efforts of her own 

pioneers. 1 Little wonder that John 

Moore-Brabazon, holder of the fi rst 

British Pilot’s License, should write 

to the newly established Flight 

magazine that: 

‘I have known the diffi culties of 

constructing a machine in England, 

where everybody is so ready to 

discourage one, ridicule one and look 

upon one as an amiable idiot…My 

advice to anyone about to build a machine 

is to do it in France: there he will fi nd 

the enthusiasm without which it is so 

diffi cult to really make a machine fl y.’ 2 

It was not just Moore-Brabazon 

who looked across the Channel for 

inspiration. Aeronautical progress in 

France had attracted the military’s 

attention since the turn of the 

Century. Colonel Templar, Head of 

the Balloon Factory at Aldershot,

had been greatly impressed by 

the progress made by Santos- 

Dumont with navigable airships in 

1901. Later that year he visited his 

French opposite number, Colonel 

Reynard, to learn more, although 

he was denied access to the latter’s 

workshops at Chalais-Meudon. 

With the signing of the ‘Entente 

Cordiale’ in 1904, such barriers 

rapidly disappeared, leading to joint 

military talks as well as the sharing of 

technology – largely, it has to be said, 

to the benefi t of the British. 

German aeronautical progress was 

also of some considerable interest, 

particularly Count Zeppelin’s 

pioneering achievements, but this 

was overshadowed by long-standing 

concerns about Germany’s ambitions 

– further exacerbated by the Agadir 

Crisis. These two themes, ever closer 

working with France and the growing 

belief that war with Germany was 

inevitable, dominated the 

development of British military 

aviation in the decade before the 

outbreak of war. 

Interest in aviation was one thing, 

political support was another. The 

arrival of the Wright brothers in 

London, and the intense media 

interest they aroused, did little to 

move the Government. 

‘In May 1909 the Wright brothers arrived 

in London. They received a tremendous 

welcome. Wilbur and Orville Wright 

were living symbols of the new air age. 

Their British contemporaries were at this 

time distressed by the fact that Britain 

had fallen behind France and Germany 

in aeronautical achievement.’ 3 

On 25 July 1909, Louis Bleriot fl ew the 

Channel from Calais to Dover in 38 

minutes, in a small machine of his 

own design. For many aviation 

advocates this was a key turning point. 

‘When Monsieur Bleriot landed at Dover 

he opened a new chapter in the military 

history of the British Isles.’ 4 

Of course, the argument was not so 

easily won and aviation in Britain 

continued to be viewed with apathy, 

suspicion and even open hostility 

by naval and military authorities. 5 

Indeed, in April 1909, the War Offi ce 

had prohibited further experiments 

with aeroplanes as the costs were 

considered too high. 6 It was probably 

not helpful when it was pointed out 

that matters were different in France. 

‘I ask you to give publicity to the success 

of aviation as adapted to military 

purposes because it is high time that our 

authorities took some steps to follow the 

example of the French.’ 7 

Major General 

Frederick Sykes, 

Commander of 

the Military 

Wing, who 

modelled the 

organisation 

of the RFC 

on the French 

Air Services 

Gradually, however, the arguments 

and the lobbying began to bear fruit. 

In October 1911, Major (later Sir) 

Frederick Sykes was ordered by 

Brigadier Henry Wilson, Director 

Military Operations at the War Offi ce, 

to visit France and write a report on 

l’Aviation francaise. This he duly 

produced in November 1911. Titled 

‘Notes on Aviation in France’, Sykes 

3

4 

outlined the value of aeroplanes in 

war and the importance of strategic 

reconnaissance, raids against vital 

points and tactical reconnaissance, 

including finding targets for the 

artillery and facilitating 

intercommunication between forces. 8 

There is little doubt that Sykes’ tour 

of French military aviation 

establishments provided the 

organisational blueprint for the RFC. 9 

‘Before the war, France was the 

recognised world leader in flying and 

hence Sykes’ report from France could 

be considered one of the most important 

pre-war organisational influences on 

British aviation.’ 10 

Sykes, who was appointed Head of 

the RFC’s Military Wing, rapidly set 

about creating an effective air service, 

drawing heavily on French aviation 

practice. Many of these principles 

would later be incorporated in the 

RFC’s Training Manual, first 

published in 1915, that provided the 

foundation for all future British air 

power doctrine. 11 

Although much was achieved in the 

next few years, British aviation 

continued to lag behind both France 

and Germany. By the end of 1911, 

France had issued more than 500 

pilot’s certificates compared to just 

110 in Great Britain. On the outbreak 

of war, the five most important 

aviation records (including distance, 

duration, height and speed) were all 

held by either France or Germany. 

No British pilot held a world record 

of any sort. 

From the beginning, Britain’s 

aeronautical efforts were 

handicapped by the lack of reliable 

aero-engines of adequate power. 

This single problem effectively 

constrained the development of the 

British aviation industry, both before 

and during the war. In August 

1914, there was no aircraft or aeroengine 

industry to speak of, while a 

number of key components – such as 

magnetos – could only be obtained 

abroad. The pressure of war overcame 

most of these problems, but the 

supply of aero-engines continued to 

bedevil aviation planning right up to 

the Armistice. Part of the difficulty 

was that it was found easier to 

purchase engines in France than to 

develop British alternatives. 

‘The unreliability, coupled with 

the great weight, of contemporary 

engines drove the pioneers to despair. 

Monsieur Seguin produced the 

Gnome much as a conjurer might 

produce a rabbit from a hat.’ 12 

British aviation came to rely almost 

exclusively on French aero-engines 

and French aircraft. When the RFC 

was formed in April 1912, it was able 

to boast an establishment of just 

fewer than 200 personnel and 17 

machines with another 36 on order 

– half of these to be supplied by 

France and all powered by French 

engines. In comparison, French 

military aviation possessed at least 

100 aircraft and the German air 

services a similar number. 

‘The French authorities, who were 

naturally gifted with more imagination 

than our own politicians, had grasped 

the potentialities of aircraft very early in 

their development, and had spent large 

sums of money in order to encourage 

their experimenters. The results had 

far exceeded their expectations and the 

French pilots and constructors were far 

ahead of the rest of the world in every

anch of aviation.’ 13 

It was not just French aircraft and 

engines that dominated the 

development of British aviation. 

French aviators became as well 

known in England as they were in 

France. They inspired and entertained 

the public and, inevitably, excited 

professional jealousy. Popular, 

charismatic and embodying the spirit 

of adventure, they were fashionable 

in a way that their English 

counterparts were not. 

‘In September 1913, Pégoud fl ew his 

Bleriot monoplane above the Weybridge 

track in a manner which dumfounded the 

sceptics and silenced every accusation of 

chicanery. To say that British pilots were 

staggered would be inadequate to express 

the complete stupefaction which was 

felt by all who witnessed his beautiful 

exhibition of perfect control.’ 14 

For the military, there was no doubt 

where they should look for a role 

model. A steady stream of RFC 

offi cers visited France over the next 

few years, either to observe the Army 

Manoeuvres or to inspect factories 

and fl ying fi elds. 15 

‘In aeronautical matters France is 

without doubt far ahead of any other 

country, and we must therefore look 

to her for hints as to the manner in 

which we may best augment our own 

resources in this direction’ 16 

Materiel Contribution 

At the outbreak of war the RFC 

possessed just 50 frontline aircraft, 

compared to the 141 serving with 

l’Aéronautique Militaire and over 

200 with the German air services. As 

the full potential of military aviation 

became clearer, the RFC grew rapidly, 

but only because it was possible to 

procure additional aircraft and 

aero-engines in France. The French 

contribution to the British air effort 

was timely, substantial and essential. 

As the offi cial history of the Ministry 

of Munitions observes: 

‘French assistance was of peculiar value 

in that it was rendered in the fi rst months 

of the war, when home industry was 

incapable of supplying the Services with 

the necessary equipment. The French 

rotary engines alone enabled the two 

Services to carry on through the fi rst 

two years of the war, and such were the 

qualities of these engines that they were 

used in increasing quantities throughout 

the war. French aeroplanes were also 

invaluable during the fi rst two years of 

the war and the Maurice Farman was the 

standard training machine until nearly 

the end of 1917.’ 17 

A Bleriot monoplane supplied to the RFC in 

the early months of the First World War 

Britain did supply some aeronautical 

material to France, including aircraft, 

and machine guns, but this was a 

fraction of what was provided in 

return. 18 Entire RFC squadrons 

were equipped with French aircraft, 

serving in all theatres. French aircraft 

also provided a large proportion of 

the training machines needed to 

5

6 

supply pilots for the Western Front 

where the strength of the RFC 

increased from just fi ve squadrons in 

1914, to 29 by 1916, and nearly 100 by 

the Armistice. 

Although the direct procurement of 

aircraft from France became less 

important as the war progressed, the 

supply of aero-engines remained 

vital in powering British 

manufactured machines. The 

continued failure in British 

production, led the Government to 

encourage companies, such as Rolls 

Royce, to design and produce aeroengines 

rather than remaining 

solely automotive engine 

manufacturers. Even so, airframe 

production continued to outstrip 

aero-engine production. 

Supply of Aircraft and Aero-engines 

Table 1: 

British Aircraft Production, 1914 – 1918 

Table 2: 

British Aero-Engine Production, 1914 – 1918 

From both a qualitative and a 

quantitative perspective, French 

aeronautical materiel was hugely 

important in sustaining the growth of 

British military aviation. The scale 

of this contribution is only too evident 

if we look at the total British aircraft 

and aero-engine production during 

the war (Tables 1 and 2). In percentage 

terms, the supply of aircraft from 

overseas (largely France) represented 

some fi ve per cent of total wartime 

production but nearly 40 per cent 

in 1915. The supply of aero-engines 

from overseas (again largely France) 

represented some 40 per cent of total 

wartime production and over 50 per 

cent in 1915. 

The RFC benefi ted greatly from the supply of French 

aero-engines throughout the war 

Moral and Intellectual Contribution 

Although the provision of adequate 

quantities of aeronautical 

materiel, in the face of 

signifi cant wastage, was a major 

problem for the RFC, there 

were many other challenges to 

be met before military aviation 

could make an 

effective contribution to the 

war. The RFC and the Service 

Aéronautique were partners 

in the struggle to develop 

a conceptual model for military 

aviation and, just as importantly, 

to gain the understanding of army 

commanders and the support of 

politicians. In this process the 

RFC was not necessarily the junior 

partner, although it soon found that 

there was much to be learnt from the 

Service Aéronautique. Close contact 

with the French in the fi rst months 

of the war caused the RFC to rapidly 

reappraise its approach to aerial

photography and map making. 

By December 1914, the RFC’s 

photographic organisation had been 

re-modelled entirely along French 

lines and, when this was changed to 

a more decentralised arrangement in 

early 1916, the RFC followed suit. 19 In 

a similar way, the RFC’s procedures 

for army co-operation, notably the 

employment of contact patrols to 

support infantry attacks, was largely 

drawn from French practice. Although 

Lord Trenchard is commonly regarded 

as the father of the Royal Air Force, 

it is often overlooked that he initially 

resisted the idea of an independent 

air service. Moreover, his views on air 

power and the importance of strategic 

bombing only emerged over time, 

changing as the war progressed. 

Central to this process was his 

relationship with the Service 

Aéronautique and, in particular, its 

senior offi cers. 

Colonel Hugh Trenchard arrived in 

France in November 1914 to take 

command of the RFC’s Third Wing. 

In August 1915 he replaced General 

David Henderson as Head of the 

RFC in France, commanding the RFC 

through both the Somme and Third 

Ypres, before returning to London in 

January 1918 to become the RAF’s 

fi rst Chief of the Air Staff. He resigned 

after three months and later 

commanded the Independent Force, 

tasked with conducting a strategic 

bombing campaign against Germany. 

Commandant Paul du Peuty was a 

pre-war cavalry offi cer who joined 

the aviation service early in the war. 20 

He commanded Escadrille MS 48 

on its formation in March 1915 and 

subsequently a groupe de chasse and 

reconnaissance on the Artois front 

Commander 

of the French 

Air Services, a 

personal friend 

and staunch ally 

of Trenchard, 

Commandant 

Paul du Peuty 

before, in the autumn of 1915, being 

appointed to the French 10 th Army – at 

that time located between the British 

First and Third Armies. Following 

General Nivelle’s arrival as CinC in 

December 1916, du Peuty replaced 

Colonel Barès as Head of the Service 

Aéronautique at GQG. He resigned 

his post in August 1917 to return to 

the Army, being killed in action in 

March 1918. 

Both Trenchard’s personal papers, 

and the Offi cial History, describe the 

importance of his French opposite 

numbers, notably du Peuty, in the 

development of his thinking on 

operational and tactical matters. 

Neither airman was fl uent in the 

other’s language, but through 

Maurice Baring, Trenchard’s liaison 

offi cer, they were able to develop a 

shared view of how air power should 

be employed in support of the 

ground battle. 

All the evidence suggests that 

Trenchard and du Peuty had a 

warm professional and personal 

relationship. Although Trenchard 

was a few years older and had 

learnt to fl y before the war, du Peuty 

had been wounded in air combat 

while commanding a squadron 

7

8 

and had considerable operational 

experience. 21 It would also appear 

that Maurice Baring’s unique 

character and abilities made him the 

ideal go-between in the relationship 

and that both Trenchard and du Peuty 

valued him highly. 

In the autumn of 1915, Trenchard and 

du Peuty met to distil their collective 

experience into fundamental 

principles governing the employment 

of aircraft in war. The need to coordinate 

the 10 th Army’s air activities 

with adjacent RFC formations may 

have been the instigation for this 

debate, but there were matters of 

real substance to be addressed which 

would have long-lasting implications 

for British air power doctrine. 

‘This policy (the Strategic Offensive) 

was thrashed out in the autumn of 1915 

in many conversations between General 

Trenchard and Commandant du Peuty, 

talking and arguing over the experiences 

of the two air services.’ 22 

It has been suggested that the 

concept of the strategic offensive was 

uniquely Trenchard’s, not least by 

Trenchard’s biographer, and that in 

turn it shaped the French response to 

the German air effort at Verdun. 23 In 

my opinion, the evidence is far from 

conclusive. What seems more likely 

is that the two airmen contributed to 

a process in which theory, experience 

and analysis were woven into a new 

orthodoxy that employed aircraft 

as a weapon of attack rather than of 

defence. 24 Just as importantly, they 

both concluded that the effective 

employment of military aviation was 

only possible through centralised 

control and decentralised execution. 

With the move of the French 10 th 

Army, in early March, both Trenchard 

and Du Peuty were determined to 

establish liaison officers in the other’s 

headquarters to facilitate their 

continued communications. 25 Du 

Peuty was now based on the Verdun 

front from where he provided regular 

reports, willingly sharing his 

experience and reinforcing 

Trenchard’s views about the need for 

a continuous offensive in the air: 26 

‘The lessons that can be drawn with the 

greatest certainty from the experience of 

the Battle of Verdun are: 

- The necessity of grouping in each 

Army the fighting machines 

employed on offensive duties 

under a single commander. 

- The primary importance of 

the work done for the higher 

command. 

- The need for great adaptability 

in the organisation as well as 

the necessity of a high degree 

of training.’ 

These lessons were incorporated in 

the RFC’s planning for the Battle of 

the Somme, which saw the German 

air services severely handled, 

conceding air superiority to the 

British for several months. Indeed, 

such was the success of the RFC that 

it caused a major reorganisation of 

the German fighter force. 

An important step in the RFC’s 

preparations for the Somme, based 

on the French experience at Verdun, 

was Trenchard’s decision to withdraw 

the fighter aircraft provided to the 

corps (army co-operation) squadrons 

for self-defence and to organise them 

into dedicated fighter squadrons. 27 

Trenchard and du Peuty’s influence 

had wider implications when 

America joined the war in 1917.

Lacking both equipment and 

experience, several military missions 

were sent to Europe to address these 

shortfalls. One of those involved was 

Lieutenant Colonel William (Billy) 

Mitchell – later to command the air 

combat units of the United States Air 

Service (USAS) in France. Mitchell 

met Trenchard and du Peuty in the 

spring of 1917 and had extensive 

discussions with both. His views on 

air power were greatly influenced by 

these conversations. 28 

Du Peuty’s decision to resign his 

command, in September 1917, and 

return to the army was a great blow. 

Good relations between the RFC 

and Service Aéronautique continued 

under his successor, Colonel Marie 

Charles Duval, but du Peuty’s abilities 

were greatly missed. According to 

Maurice Baring, du Peuty had ‘proved 

himself to be the most daring of pilots 

and the soundest of flying officers and 

organisers.’ Du Peuty wrote a personal 

letter to Trenchard explaining his 

reasons for leaving. 

‘Dear General, I have been appointed 

into the 4 th Zouaves with the promise 

of being shortly given a battalion. In 

leaving the Flying Corps, I want to thank 

you for the very valuable help you have 

been kind enough to give me when I 

commanded the flying units of the 10 th 

Army and later when I was at GQG. 

I want to tell you how much I admire 

the British Flying Corps with which we 

have fought together and to which we 

are bound by ties of such affectionate 

comradeship. Lastly, thank you for the 

personal affection which you always 

showed me and which was the most 

valuable of stimulants for me. 

I need hardly tell you that if I am leaving 

the Flying Corps, to which I had given 

myself wholly, it is because I feel I have 

not only ceased to be of use to it but that I 

might do harm and be a source of trouble. 

Soon, from the trenches, I will applaud the 

services of our allied forces in the air.’ 29 

Trenchard and du Peuty were 

destined to meet just once more, 

in November 1917, when the 

General visited Epernay (enjoying 

an obligatory tour of the Moet et 

Chandon factory). Baring commented 

that with du Peuty’s death ‘the French 

lost a great soldier and an example 

of the finest type of man that France 

can produce. He had all the noblest 

qualities of the French nation, and as 

one of our pilots who knew him very 

well said to me: “It makes one feel a 

worm to be with him.”’ 30 

It should not be thought that 

Trenchard was without criticism of 

the Service Aéronautique. While he 

acknowledged their innovation and 

leadership, he felt that they lacked 

something in delivery: 

‘Generally speaking, I would say that the 

French Air Service excels in conception, 

but to a certain extent fails in execution. 

The development of aerial methods 

especially in the case of aerial fighting 

owes a very great deal to French thought 

and initiative and we have based our 

tactics largely on their teaching.’ 

‘Their organisation for making use of 

aerial information, studying photographs, 

reporting the result of bombardments, 

keeping the command in touch with 

the advance of their troops is extremely 

good. Its execution, in my opinion, 

leaves something to be desired and this 

is principally due I think to a lack of 

real discipline.’ 31 

In some ways I find this more 

nuanced view more encouraging, and 

9

10 

credible, suggesting that, in private, 

the interaction between the two air 

services was more robust and 

challenging than has so far been 

suggested. When Trenchard left 

France in 1918, there was no doubt 

about his public feelings: 

‘I would be grateful if you could express 

to all those involved with the French Air 

Services the heartfelt debt and gratitude 

that I feel towards them for all the 

assistance that they gave me whilst in 

command of the Air Services in France. 

I can state categorically that it was the 

example shown by the French aviators 

at Verdun and at other important battles 

that infl uenced me directly. I also wanted 

to learn from the French Air Service’s 

modus operandi; the perfection they 

demonstrated whist undertaking artillery 

and photographic missions were the 

benchmarks that I applied to our own 

artillery missions.’ 32 

The Legacy 

The French contribution to the 

development of British military 

aviation, although readily 

acknowledged in offi cial histories 

and individual memoirs, was rapidly 

forgotten in the diffi cult post-war 

years and any residual obligation 

was effectively swept away by the 

catastrophe that was 1940. More long 

lasting, and certainly as important, 

was the French contribution to the 

evolution of air power doctrine in 

both the RAF and the USAS. The 

Strategic Offensive, and the model 

of central control with decentralised 

execution, were integral to Trenchard’s 

vision of an independent air service 

and were echoed in the inter-war 

writings of American air power 

theorists. This doctrine, ultimately, 

would fi nd its expression in the 

Combined Bomber Offensive. 

How much of this is directly owed to 

du Peuty and his colleagues can only 

be guessed at. According to Maurice 

Baring, du Peuty’s personal 

contribution was incalculable. 33 The 

French view was equally positive. 

According to Ferriere, du Peuty’s 

liaison offi cer at Trenchard’s 

headquarters, effective collaboration 

between the respective air services 

could be traced directly to Verdun 

and the interplay of ideas between 

two men who implicitly trusted 

each other. 34 

There is, of course, another lasting 

legacy – one that is readily visible to 

this day. When the RFC arrived on 

the Western Front in August 1914 

its aircraft were without national 

markings – unlike French military 

aircraft that had featured a roundel

of blue, white and red since 1912. 35 

Indiscriminate fire by friendly forces 

led GHQ to instruct that all RFC 

aircraft should be marked with the 

Union Flag. It was soon discovered 

that this was easily confused with the 

German black cross. On 29 October 

1914, General David Henderson 

wrote to the Chef de Mission 

Francaise to the effect that ‘Many 

reports have recently been received 

from both French and British sources 

as to the difficulty of recognising 

British aeroplanes. It is therefore 

proposed to try a system similar to 

those on French machines which are 

more clearly visible. Have you any 

suggestions or remarks, please?’ 

The answer must have been positive 

as from December 1914 all British 

aircraft were marked with a red, 

white and blue roundel – a marking 

that continues to be used to this day 

– if only the Service Aéronautique 

had retained the licensing rights! 36 

Notes 

1 Driver, The Birth of Military Aviation 

(Woodbridge: The Royal Historical 

Society & The Boydell Press, 1997), p. 26. 

2 JTC Moore-Brabazon, Flight, 2 January 

1909. 

3 Alfred Gollin, The Impact of Air Power 

on the British People and their Government, 

1909-14 (London: Macmillan, 1989), p. 22. 

4 Colonel Charles Repington, Military 

Correspondent of The Times, Blackwoods 

Magazine, July 1910. 

5 Sykes, From Many Angles (London: 

George Harrap, 1942), p.88. 

6 Broke-Smith, The History of Early 

British Military Aeronautics (Bath: Library 

Association, 1968), p. 33. 

7 George Holt Thomas, Letter to the Daily 

Mail, 17 September 1910. 

8 Sykes Papers, RAF Museum MFC77/13. 

9 Sykes, Op cit, p.93-96. 

10 Ash, Sir Frederick Sykes and the Air 

Revolution 1912-1918 (London: Frank 

Cass, 1999), p.24-25. 

11 The Training Manual (Part 2), 

sometimes known as the War Book, 

described the functions of the RFC 

including its strategical and tactical 

employment. The Training Manual 

was conceived by Sykes in February 

1913 to provide guidance on how the 

Military Wing should operate in war. 

TNA AIR 1/785/204/4/565 refers. Neville 

Parton, ‘The Development of Early RAF 

Doctrine’, The Journal of Military History, 

Vol 72, No 4, October 2008, identifies the 

importance of the Training Manual in 

the development of British air power 

thinking. 

12 At the first British Aero Show held 

in March 1909 - Dallas Brett, History of 

British Aviation 1908-1914 (London: The 

Aviation Book Club, 1933), p.25. 

13 Dallas Brett, Op cit, p. 69-70. 

14 Ibid, p. 69-70. 

15 This included Major Herbert Musgrave, 

Assistant Commandant and Officer in 

charge of experiments who attended the 

Army Manoeuvres of 1912, expressing 

great admiration for all that he saw, 

and Major Robert Brooke-Popham who 

toured French aviation establishments in 

May 1914. TNA AIR1/783/204/4/515. 

16 Barrington-Kennett, Military 

Aeronautics in France, Royal United 

Services Institute Journal, February 1912, 

p.171-178. Barrington-Kennett was later 

the RFC’s first Adjutant. 

17 Ministry of Munitions, History of the 

Ministry of Munitions Vol 12 (London: 

HMSO, 1922), p.177 

18 At a meeting held between the 

French Aviation Service and the RFC 

held in London on 15 December 1915, 

it was agreed that the British would 

provide Sopwith 1 ½ Strutters, as well 

as hydrogen bottles and an example 

of the CFS Mk4 bombsight. TNA 

AIR1/625/17/11. 

19 Chasseaud, Artillery’s Astrologers (Naval 

11

12 

and Military Press: Uckfield, 1999), p. 26 

and p.52. 

20 Born on 6 July 1878, Paul Fernand du 

Peuty was an officer of the Spahis who 

came late to aviation. He commanded 

MS 48, equipped with Morane-Saulnier 

Parasol fighters, from 29 March – 8 

September 1915 (he was shot down and 

wounded in air combat on 1 July 1915), 

before taking over as Head of the Air 

Services at GQG on 21 February 1917. 

Evidently a talented man, he fell foul 

of politics and resigned when Petain 

appointed Colonel Marie Charles Duval, 

an infantry officer, over his head on 2 

August 1917. He joined the 4th Zouaves 

later that year and served with them as a 

battalion commander, being awarded the 

l’Ordre de l’Armée before his death in 

action at Orvilliers on 30 March 1918. 

21 Trenchard was born in 1873, making 

him five years older than du Peuty. 

22 Jones, The War in the Air, Vol 2 (Oxford: 

Clarendon Press, 1922), p.164-166. 

23 Boyle, Man of Vision (London: Collins, 

1962), p 166-168. 

24 Fighting In The Air, Issued by the 

General Staff, April 1918, p. 2. 

25 Lt Ferriere and Captain Cooper 

respectively. 

26 Conclusions of the report by 

Commandant du Peuty, forwarded to 

Brigadier-General Trenchard, The Working 

of Aviation in the Vaux-Douaumont Sector. 

27 Jones, Op cit, p.167-168. 

28 Mitchell, Memoirs of WW1 From Start 

to Finish of Our Greatest War (New York: 

Random House, 1960), p.21-25. 

29 Personal letter to General Trenchard 

from Colonel du Peuty dated 23 

September 1917. 

30 Baring, Flying Corps HQ 1914-1918 

(London: Bell & Sons, 1920), p.256-257. 

31 Secret Memorandum on the French Air 

Services, dated 28 August 1917. 

Trenchard Papers. 

32 Letter from Major-General Hugh 

Trenchard to Colonel Duval, Head 

French Air Services in the Field, dated 

January 1918. 

33 Baring, Op cit, p. 129. 

34 Boyle, Op cit, p. 171. 

35 The Inspection Permante de 

l’Aeronautique issued instructions to this 

effect on 26 July 1912. Robertson, WW1 

British Aeroplane Colours and Markings 

(Albatros Productions: Berkhampstead, 

1996), p.24. 

36 Op cit, p. 25-26.

14 

The Myths and Realities of Air Anti- 

Submarine Warfare during the 

Great War 

By Col John Abbatiello 

Although the historical record often got it wrong, the efforts of Royal Naval 

Air Service and Royal Air Force anti-submarine aviators met with varying 

degrees of success during the Great War. Anti-submarine missions fell into 

three categories: bombing German U-boat bases in Flanders, patrolling 

the sea lanes around Britain, and escorting convoys. Though bombing and 

patrolling certainly contributed to the failure of the unrestricted U-boat 

campaign, convoys served as the ultimate antidote and were made even more 

effective by the contribution of aircraft. First World War naval aviators did not 

enjoy guidance from existing doctrine; they invented it in the field. This essay 

highlights inaccuracies in the historical record and explains the challenges, 

successes, and failures of early air anti-submarine warfare (ASW). The author 

concludes that command and organizational constraints were the root cause of 

inconsistent employment techniques.

On 22 September 1917, a Royal 

Naval Air Service flying boat 

destroyed a small German Uboat 

in the English Channel. The 

Dunkirk-based flying boat despatched 

UB32 with two 230lb bombs, striking 

the submarine behind the conning 

tower as the U-boat tried to dive for 

safety. Flying boat crewmembers and 

escorting Sopwith pilots confirmed 

that a mass of oil and wreckage 

resulted from the explosions. 1 

This engagement was the only 

confirmed case during World War 

One of a U-boat being destroyed by 

a British aircraft on its own, that is 

without the aid of surface vessels. 

There were at least five, and perhaps 

six, additional instances where British 

aircraft working with destroyers or 

patrol boats sank U-boats. However, 

if one considers that the Germans 

lost 178 submarines to all causes 

during the Great War, it is obvious 

that aircraft played a minimal role in 

thwarting their operations. 2 At least, 

that is what much of the literature of 

World War One has led us to believe. 

In reality, aircraft served an important 

function in trade defence during 

World War One. Airplanes, seaplanes, 

and flying boats, as well as non-rigid 

airships and kite balloons, performed 

three anti-submarine roles during 

the Great War. First, RNAS and 

(from 1 April 1918) RAF bombers 

raided German U-boat bases in 

Belgium, damaging only a few Uboats, 

but forcing the Germans to 

invest heavily in defending their 

facilities and naval units from air 

attack. Secondly, aircraft patrolled 

the waters surrounding the British 

Isles, contributing to anti-submarine 

warfare by hunting and attacking 

U-boats and then using wireless, or 

other signalling techniques, to call 

in supporting naval forces. The third 

and final anti-submarine role for 

aircraft was convoy escort work. From 

the earliest days of convoy until the 

end of the First World War, U-boats 

were able to sink only five convoyed 

vessels when the convoy enjoyed 

both air and surface escort. In fact, Uboats 

did not attack an air-escorted 

convoy until December 1917, and 

there were only eight occasions 

when U-boats even attempted such 

attacks in home waters during the 

entire war. 3 

Since the end of the Great War, 

historians generally recognised this 

important contribution of aircraft 

to the U-boat war, but the details of 

this issue have remained clouded 

for a number of reasons. One of the 

primary causes is the simple fact that 

naval aviation did not fall neatly into 

aviation history on the one hand, or 

naval history on the other, meriting 

only secondary coverage in these 

sorts of studies. With the exception 

of the British and Canadian official 

air histories, pertinent details of 

the campaign are widely scattered 

across a range of texts. Air and naval 

general histories of the Great War 

see the campaign as only a minor 

issue in a greater conflict and offer 

only a few paragraphs, or at best a 

chapter, to explain it. 4 Likewise, the 

numerous extant surveys of naval 

aviation tend to view the RNAS’s air 

campaign against U-boats simply as 

a forerunner to operations in World 

War Two. These brief treatments do 

not adequately explain this campaign 

and over-generalise the key issues. 

This essay will examine some of the 

misunderstandings surrounding 

15

16 

these innovative roles – again, 

consisting of bombing U-boat bases, 

conducting over-water air patrols, 

and escorting convoys – for British 

naval aviation and will present the 

myths and realities behind each. 

This discussion will deal only with 

British maritime air operations in 

and around home waters, which 

arguably was the decisive theatre of 

the naval war. 

Bombing: Was it continuous? 

The establishment of German U-boat 

bases in the Belgian ports of 

Zeebrugge, Ostend, and Bruges 

in early 1915 provided the RNAS 

with an opportunity to use aircraft 

offensively, which they took on with 

vigour. Actually, the RNAS was 

ordered to Dunkirk in September 

1914 to aid Royal Marines hastily 

deployed to the Belgian coast. The 

projected force of 36 aircraft was 

meant to establish air superiority in 

Flanders ‘with a view to attacking any 

German airships on their way to 

England, and preventing any 

temporary airship base being 

established’ within a 100 mile radius 

from Dunkirk. 5 The initial bombing 

objectives were German Zeppelin 

sheds, but at the end of January 

1915, RNAS pilots fi rst spotted and 

attacked U-boats temporarily berthed 

at Zeebrugge. The combination 

of Germany’s fi rst unrestricted 

submarine campaign, beginning in 

February 1915, along with the obvious 

development of the Flanders ports 

into permanent U-boat bases soon 

after meant that RNAS squadrons 

operating in northern France and 

Belgium now had good reason to 

remain in the Dunkirk area. 

Attacks against enemy bases 

and sources of supply, or 

‘attacks at source,’ refl ected a 

long-standing tradition in the 

Royal Navy – going back to the 

wars with Spain, France, and 

America during the Age of Sail 

– and were especially useful 

when the enemy was diffi cult 

to locate once at sea. 6 

The RNAS establishment 

around Dunkirk fell under 

the overall operational command of 

the Vice-Admiral Dover Patrol, Sir 

Reginald Bacon. Bacon was deeply 

immersed in the new technology of 

the Fisher Era and was a proponent 

of submarines and airships. Wing 

Captain Charles L. Lambe, a torpedo 

specialist who had worked with 

Bacon previously in the Naval 

Ordnance Department, led the naval 

air forces themselves. Lambe was not 

a pilot, but had commanded the RN’s 

fi rst seaplane carrier, HMS Hermes, 

which was torpedoed and sunk by 

a German U-boat in the English 

Channel in October 1914. 

Under Lambe and Bacon, naval air 

power grew steadily in the Dunkirk 

area. In 1918, after the RAF had

absorbed the RNAS, the bombing 

campaign continued, still under 

Lambe, now a Brigadier General, 

RAF, and reached its peak in June 

of that year. By September 1918, the 

bombers around Dunkirk switched 

completely to supporting the advance 

of the northern Allied armies, and 

in October the Germans abandoned 

their Flanders bases. However, 

attempts to bomb Zeebrugge, Ostend, 

and Bruges had met with only limited 

success during the war. Although 

they were forced to adopt some 

drastic defensive measures, such as 

building large concrete shelters, 

relocating ammunition stores away 

from the harbours, and investing 

in large numbers of anti-aircraft 

batteries, the Germans continued to 

operate their U-boats from Flanders 

at a furious pace. And, only about a 

third of Germany’s U-boats operated 

there anyway; the rest were in bases 

in Germany, beyond the range of 

British bombers. 7 

There are a number of misperceptions 

associated with this campaign. The 

first was largely sparked by Sir John 

Jellicoe in his book The Crisis of the 

Naval War where he said that: 

‘During the year 1917 aerial bombing 

attacks were persistently carried out on 

the German naval bases in Belgium by 

the Royal Naval Air Force at Dunkirk, 

which came within the sphere of the 

Dover Command. These attacks had 

as their main object the destruction of 

enemy vessels lying in these bases, and 

of the means for their maintenance and 

repair. The attacks...were as incessant as 

our resources and the weather admitted, 

and our gallant and splendidly efficient 

airmen of the R.N.A.S. were veritable 

thorns in the sides of the Germans.’ 8 

Likewise, Admiralty and Air Ministry 

staff studies, stating that attacks 

against the bases were ‘frequent’ 

and ‘unremitting,’ helped to mislead 

other historians of the period. 9 Such 

descriptions steer the reader into 

thinking that these bombing raids 

were persistent. 10 This was not the 

case. In fact, the bombing campaign 

against the Flanders bases waxed and 

waned with the strategic situation. 

The establishment of multiple RNAS 

bomber squadrons during spring 

1916, and their subsequent assault 

on the Flanders U-boat bases, was 

largely a response to the second 

German submarine campaign of 

March and April 1916. By late May 

1916, Vice-Admiral Bacon was seeing 

some improvement in the antisubmarine 

war, which he thought 

to be the result of his new net and 

mine barrage installed off the Belgian 

Coast earlier in the month. Actually, 

the reduction in sinkings during this 

time was caused by the abandonment 

of the second submarine campaign 

after the Sussex Pledge and Scheer’s 

plans to use some of his U-boats 

in conjunction with the High Seas 

Fleet. 11 Nevertheless, in late May, 

Bacon ordered that all bombing raids 

against the Flanders bases were to be 

suspended, after a raid sent to bomb 

a nearby aerodrome could not see 

its target and instead unloaded its 

bombs on Ostend Docks. Bacon saw 

this type of raid as counterproductive 

to his overall scheme of operations. 12 

Two weeks later, in a report on air 

operations in Belgium, Bacon stated 

that his aviators were just starting 

to understand that air operations 

were to be subordinated to land 

and sea campaigns. He also warned 

17

18 

that these ‘indiscriminate bombing’ 

missions were ‘useless’ and even 

‘harmful to well thought-out 

military operations’ because they 

provoked enemy retaliation, caused 

a strengthening of German defences, 

and were ineffective unless massed. 13 

Instead, Bacon offered the services of 

his bomber squadrons to the British 

Expeditionary Force (BEF), which was 

preparing for the ill-fated Somme 

Offensive. The lack of a co-ordinating 

infrastructure and the relatively 

extended distances from Dunkirk to 

the Somme Front, meant that RNAS 

involvement with the offensive 

was limited to a few attacks against 

German aerodromes along the 

northern shoulder of the attack area. 

In late 1916 and early 1917, the 

Germans began to use the Flanders 

ports as staging bases for destroyer 

attacks against the Dover Patrol. 

Simultaneously, U-boat attacks 

against merchant shipping began to 

increase at a dramatic rate, which 

culminated in the new, fi nal, 

unrestricted submarine campaign 

that began in February 1917. The 

combination of these factors offered 

Charles Lambe a superb opportunity 

to argue for a renewed bombing 

campaign against the German bases. 

Bacon agreed. In November 1916, 

the RNAS launched six raids against 

Ostend and fi ve against Zeebrugge. 14 

These November raids were the 

heaviest of the year and, according 

to the Canadian offi cial air historian, 

succeeded in forcing the Germans 

to withdraw one of the raiding 

destroyer fl otillas back to Germany. 15 

Poor weather and extremely cold 

temperatures grounded the bombers 

through December and January 

thus limiting further attacks. Raids 

resumed in February 1917, but 

again weather prevented attacks in 

March. During this time the RNAS 

at Dunkirk took delivery of its fi rst 

fast DH-4 and massive Handley 

Page bombers, both aircraft bringing 

greater payloads and speeds to the 

bomber force. 

However, just as these newlyequipped 

squadrons became 

operational, Bacon offered them 

to the BEF to support the Ypres 

Offensive during the summer of 1917. 

Also, German Gotha raids against 

England necessitated RNAS attacks

against German aerodromes in 

Belgium. Gotha raids and the Ypres 

Offensive made aerodrome attacks 

a high priority, and RNAS bombers 

only occasionally flew against naval 

targets. The third quarter of 1917 

serves to highlight the trend. Out of 

137 bombing raids during the quarter, 

79 were aimed at aerodromes, 15 

at Bruges, 12 at Ostend, and 9 at 

Zeebrugge. The remaining two dozen 

attacks sought various military 

targets, including railway centres 

and ammunition dumps. 16 The end 

of the quarter serves to illustrate the 

new priorities clearly: during the 

last two weeks of September, Lambe 

sent only three raids to Zeebrugge 

with none against Bruges or Ostend. 

Twenty-one attacks were made 

against other targets. 17 

The lack of emphasis against the Uboat 

bases would continue until May 

1918, when a new Vice-Admiral Dover 

Patrol, Sir Roger Keyes, pushed the 

Admiralty and the Air Ministry to 

support air attacks in the aftermath 

of his Zeebrugge and Ostend raids. 

Now under the RAF, Lambe’s bomber 

forces would have the senior support 

required to carry out a proper 

bombing offensive against the U-boat 

bases. Attacks during the summer 

of 1918 increased dramatically in 

frequency and violence. In June 

alone, British aircraft bombed Bruges, 

Zeebrugge, or Ostend on 24 days of 

the month, some days seeing five or 

more attacks. 18 As mentioned above, 

September 1918 would see this 

campaign close as Lambe’s bombers 

supported the Allied advance in 

the north. In the end, Lambe really 

conducted three separate bombing 

campaigns during his three and a 

half year tenure at Dunkirk: one 

against military targets, one against 

aerodromes, and one against the Uboat 

bases. Of the more than 1,000 

tons of bombs expended against 

the enemy by Dunkirk-based naval 

bombers during the last 21 months 

of the war, only about half of them 

fell on naval targets – far from a 

persistent campaign mentioned in 

the literature. 19 

This first misperception leads to a 

second one: the official air historian 

later wrote in The War in the Air that 

the reason for such a disjointed 

bombing effort was that there was 

no independent air force to guide 

policy until very late in the war. In 

both Volumes IV and VI, H. A. Jones 

suggested that had there been a truly 

independent air force – that is, a 

force free from slavishly supporting 

either service and their constantly 

changing demands – it would have 

made these kinds of targeting 

decisions beforehand and been able 

to ‘formulate a real policy.’ 20 Such 

a focused assault on U-boat bases 

would have been highly unlikely 

under an independent air service had 

it been formed earlier. The Admiralty 

already had difficulty in acquiring 

the air support it needed in May 

1918, a time when there was actually 

a lull in the fighting on the Western 

Front. 21 Had a more bombing-minded 

Vice-Admiral Dover Patrol been in 

place from the start, such as Sir Roger 

Keyes, then the naval bomber forces 

may have been able to conduct a 

more focused campaign earlier. 

There were two underlying factors 

that caused the breakdown of the 

bombing effort against the Flanders 

bases. The first was the way in which 

the Admiralty controlled its air 

19

20 

forces. Except for a very brief period 

in 1915, the system was generally 

straightforward: the Board of 

Admiralty and Air Department in 

London provided personnel and 

aircraft to regional C-in-Cs and 

formulated policy regarding 

personnel and equipment. Regional 

C-in-Cs, even in home waters, were 

typically provided an air group, and 

they were in complete control of 

how those air forces were employed 

against the enemy. This system 

remained in effect even after the 

RAF took over on 1 April 1918. Just as 

before, RAF Naval Air Groups would 

work directly for regional C-in-Cs; 

there was no Coastal Command HQ 

during the First World War. Thus the 

system allowed Sir Reginald Bacon, 

who as he said himself ‘always gave 

the Army, during an advance, the 

prior call on our machines,’ to employ 

his forces on three different air 

campaigns, where Sir Roger Keyes 

focused on the U-boat bases. 

This command arrangement leads 

to the second factor. Naval aviation 

was brand new during the First 

World War; there was no historical 

experience to guide operational and 

organisational doctrine. Technique 

developed in the fi eld. The Admiralty 

was willing to provide only general 

guidance, such as what missions 

the aircraft were expected to carry 

out. 22 Thus, each regional air group 

struggled to work out the best ways 

to use its aircraft on its own. This 

phenomenon will become even 

more pronounced as we move to a 

discussion of patrols and escorts. 

Patrol: Was it useless? 

The second Great War role for aircraft 

in anti-submarine warfare was patrol. 

In general terms, there were three 

types of patrol a given aircraft could 

fl y. An aircraft might be sent out

to fly an assigned track or within a 

given block of airspace. Such area 

patrols normally remained within 

approximately 75 miles of the coast. 

The Spider Web and Southwest Air 

Group patrols, initiated in spring 

1917, are typical of such patrol 

systems and were designed to catch 

U-boats either hunting in these 

coastal areas or cruising to their 

patrol stations. 

An aircraft might also fly what was 

called an ‘emergency patrol.’ Here, 

aircraft would search a specific area 

where a U-boat had actually been 

spotted, had been identified through 

wireless direction-finding, or where a 

steamer had been torpedoed. Coastal 

air groups typically held aircraft on 

short-notice readiness for immediate 

launch. It is interesting to note that 

by 1918, and in some regions even 

earlier, a telephone system linked the 

Naval Intelligence Division at the 

Admiralty with regional C-in-Cs 

and their air groups in order to 

disseminate such intelligence. 

Finally, aircraft were at times 

assigned to patrols in conjunction 

with naval vessels. The Southwest Air 

Group led the way in this technique. 

For a given mission, flying boats or 

seaplanes were typically assigned a 

specific rendezvous time and location 

with local patrol flotillas. 

By summer 1917, the air patrol 

system around the coast of Britain 

had been firmly established. Patrol 

aircraft covered coastal waters from 

the Orkneys along the east coast of 

Scotland and England, to the Channel 

and around into the Irish Sea. The 

only gaps were the northwest coast 

of Scotland, where presumably traffic 

was too light and weather too rough 

to require the support of maritime 

aviation, and the coast of Ireland. 

Here, the C-in-C Queenstown, Vice- 

Admiral Sir Lewis Bayly, was initially 

sceptical about the use of seaplanes 

for patrol. On too many occasions in 

1916 his destroyers wasted precious 

patrol time towing seaplanes home 

to port after many would have to 

ditch from engine failure. By late 

1917, Bayly warmed to the idea of air 

patrols and by this time the US Navy 

had agreed to establish four seaplane 

bases and two kite balloon stations 

in Ireland. 

During the first two years of the 

war, coastal patrols were rather 

haphazard; the few naval aircraft 

available occasionally flew 

multipurpose reconnaissance patrols 

searching for enemy Zeppelins, 

enemy surface forces, and finally 

enemy submarines. But, there was 

no real system. By late 1916, four key 

developments made a new patrol 

system necessary. 

The first development defined the 

need: shipping losses to U-boats 

increased dramatically during the 

autumn of 1916 and the Admiralty 

recognised that something needed to 

be done. The start of the unrestricted 

submarine campaign in February 

1917 added impetus to these efforts. 

A second development soon followed 

in December 1916. Admiral Sir John 

Jellicoe, as the new First Sea Lord, 

established the Anti-Submarine 

Division under Rear-Admiral Sir 

Alexander Duff to coordinate all 

anti-submarine measures. One of 

the first memos that Duff wrote after 

arriving at the Admiralty was a call 

for a comprehensive air patrol system 

around the coast of Britain. This 

21

22 

memo planted the seed which grew 

into the system described earlier. 

Thirdly, in order to ensure adequate 

supplies of aircraft and trained 

personnel, the Admiralty needed 

a senior offi cer to oversee naval 

aviation. The Board appointed 

Commodore Sir Godfrey Paine as 5 th 

Sea Lord in January 1917 to fi ll this 

post. Paine had been the commander 

of the joint Central Flying School 

and later commanded the Naval Air 

Service’s training establishment at 

Cranwell. As 5 th Sea Lord, Paine also 

sat on the Cowdray Air Board, which 

Lloyd George had given control over 

all army and navy aircraft production. 

Paine nevertheless became the focal 

point for the expansion of naval air 

forces in home waters in 1917. 

Finally, none of this would have been 

possible without improved aircraft 

designs reaching full production in 

1917. The Large America fl ying boat, 

able to carry four 100lb bombs for 

a six-hour patrol, became available 

during the spring. Non-rigid airships, 

the brain-child of Sir John Fisher, 

were now being improved and were 

able to fl y missions of eight hours 

duration or more. Superior engine 

designs gave aircraft of all types 

better performance and hence more 

carrying capacity and endurance. 

Improved maintenance practices 

meant that more aircraft would be 

‘in-commission’ on a given day. 

This overview of the patrol system 

begs the question: how effective was 

it? Most historians have taken the 

view that schemes to use aircraft 

in the hunting patrol role were 

ineffective. Barley and Waters, in 

their famous Admiralty staff study 

Defeat of the Enemy Attack on Shipping, 

1939-1945, argue that air patrols were 

ineffective in destroying U-boats and 

the proper use of aircraft was in the 

convoy escort role. 23 Likewise, Arthur 

Marder, strongly infl uenced by 

Waters in writing From Dreadnought 

to Scapa Flow, goes a step further and 

referring to 1917 air patrols offers that 

‘All this busy work was singularly 

unproductive’ and for 1918 ‘As patrols 

they [aircraft] proved ineffective.’ 24 

Convoy escort was certainly the most 

important and most effective role for 

naval aircraft in the Great War; on 

the other hand, the claim that patrols 

were a waste of time is not supported 

by the evidence. Obviously, without 

the development of patrol aircraft 

and infrastructure, especially 

regarding the sheer growth of naval 

air stations at home, convoy escort 

would never have been as effective 

as it was. 

But there were other reasons as 

well. Air patrols were, in essence, 

a powerful contributor to an area 

denial strategy against the U-boats. 

The evidence strongly indicates 

that in certain areas, when weather 

conditions and adequate numbers 

of aircraft permitted, U-boats were 

literally forced to operate elsewhere

due to air patrols. In May 1917, six 

war cruises of Flanders U-boats 

accounted for only about 3,000 tons 

of shipping off the Dutch coast, 

a failure largely resulting from 

extensive air patrols originating from 

Dunkirk, Felixstowe (Spider Web), 

and Great Yarmouth. 25 Examples of 

aircraft patrols frustrating U-boat 

operations abound in the German 

sources from spring of 1917 onward, 

and wartime British commanders 

were aware of the contribution of 

aircraft from captured documents. 

One captured report confirmed that 

airship patrols off the Scottish coast 

‘were most unpleasantly active,’ 

‘repeatedly compelling the boat 

[UB35] to submerge for long periods.’ 

The commander of UB34 confessed 

in his war diary that the combination 

of three airships, calm seas, and clear 

weather forced him out of his patrol 

area, while UC77’s skipper explained 

that air-sea patrols north of the Firth 

of Forth ‘hampers our operations in 

the same way as the centralisation of 

ocean-going shipping [convoy] had 

done.’ 26 Spindler’s German official 

history of the U-boat war and Uboat 

command war diaries support 

this argument; air patrols frustrated 

U-boat operations often, especially 

during the summer months of 1917 

and 1918. 27 

There is one further point worthy of 

consideration regarding the positive 

impact of air patrols. The improved 

visibility afforded to aircraft by their 

height was not only an advantage 

in spotting submarines and their 

periscopes, but it also contributed to 

the ability to detect German mines. 

German mine-laying submarines, 

particularly the UC classes based 

in Flanders, had the potential to 

wreak havoc on busy shipping lanes 

by laying small fields unexpectedly 

along mercantile routes and at 

the entrances to harbours. The 

Admiralty recognised the usefulness 

of air patrols in spotting mines 

(albeit as a lower priority to enemy 

submarine and aircraft searches) 

as early as March 1916. 28 In 1917, 

mines accounted for 404,000 tons of 

British, Allied, and neutral shipping; 

the total losses to mines in 1918 was 

only about 60,000 tons, with only 

12 ships being lost in areas under 

British minesweeping responsibility. 29 

These figures demonstrate a clear 

defeat of the German mine-laying 

effort, but the question of how these 

mines were initially detected remains 

unexplained in the literature. The 

contribution of aircraft patrols may 

shed light on this issue. 

According to the Admiralty’s staff 

study on the minesweeping effort 

during the Great War, mines were 

located by three primary methods: 

through using the minesweepers 

themselves to sweep up unknown 

mines in suspected areas, such as 

the approaches to a port or in front 

of a convoy; by ‘scouting by means 

of aircraft or shallow draft craft at 

or near low water’; or simply by a 

vessel striking a mine or otherwise 

sighting it. Although aircraft could 

not spot submerged mines in 

clouded waters, such as those found 

around most coastal areas in eastern 

Britain, they were certainly useful in 

spotting these weapon systems when 

they appeared on the surface after 

breaking free of their moorings or at 

low water. Aircraft had the advantage 

of speed and safety over surface 

vessels which hunted for mines; the 

British alone lost 214 minesweepers 

23

24 

and small patrol craft to mines during 

the war—all but nine of those in 

home waters. 30 

Between June 1917 and October 

1918, airships detected 134 mines 

and destroyed 73 of them. 31 

Although this seems like a miniscule 

contribution, given that German 

submarines laid about 11,000 mines 

in 1,360 small minefields during 

the course of the war, sightings led 

to detection of further mines and 

their neutralisation. For example, air 

reconnaissance led directly to the 

sweeping of 215 mines in the Dover 

area alone ‘without accident’ in 1918. 32 

Seaplanes also made a significant 

contribution to mine detection, 

especially off the Thames Estuary and 

East Anglia coast. 

Overall, air patrols made an 

important contribution to antisubmarine 

warfare from mid-1917 

until the end of the war. A synergistic 

effect, leveraging the height and 

speed advantages of aircraft with the 

endurance and weaponry of surface 

vessels, developed dramatically 

during this period and denied the Uboats 

the ability to operate in certain 

areas. Between January 1917 and 

November 1918, aircraft sighted Uboats 

on 361 occasions, and followed 

with attacks on 237 of them, the vast 

majority resulting in the U-boat 

being forced to dive. 33 It is interesting 

to note that most of these air attacks 

occurred during area patrols and 

not while the aircraft were escorting 

convoys. This was hardly a wasted 

effort. A final comment from 

Admiral Sir William Jameson might 

help to conclude the patrol versus 

convoy debate: 

‘Convoy was by far the most important 

factor in robbing the U-boats of victory, 

but the fact that submarines were 

destroyed in large numbers was highly 

relevant, and most of them met their 

fate not whilst attacking convoys, but 

elsewhere. Without these casualties 

quality would not have fallen away, as it 

did from late 1917 onwards, and convoys 

would have been subjected to heavier 

and more skilful attacks. Convoys also 

relied for their protection on the A. S. 

weapons which had been developed; the 

depth charge, the hydrophone and, that 

very successful deterrent, the air.’ 34 

This leads us to the final role for 

Great War aircraft in anti-submarine 

warfare: convoy escort. 

Convoy: Were aircraft universally 

employed as escorts? 

In general, the overall tactical 

benefit of the convoy system was 

that it forced the U-boats to attack a 

relatively well-defended area. 35 The 

shipping, which formerly stretched 

out across the trade routes, was 

now concentrated in small groups, 

providing larger but fewer targets for 

submarine commanders. If a U-boat 

sighted a convoy, it would normally 

have to proceed on the surface at high 

speed in order to position itself for 

an attack. Even if the U-boat was able 

to gain an adequate firing position, 

it usually only had one attempt to 

fire a torpedo, since the escorts’ 

counterattack would normally be so 

powerful that a subsequent attack 

would be extremely difficult. 36 

Aircraft were a nearly perfect 

complement to the surface escorts 

of a convoy. Airships, seaplanes, 

and kite balloons brought increased 

visibility to the tactical picture. As one 

Admiralty technical history reported,

the track of a torpedo was easily seen 

from the air, even in a rough sea; the 

beginning of the track would deliver 

the position of the submerged U-boat 

to aircraft observers and pilots. 37 

The inability of aircraft to deliver 

more than a couple of depth bombs, 

however, was offset by the availability 

of dozens of heavier depth charges 

onboard the surface escorts. Finally, 

aircraft orbiting further away from 

the convoy – as a distant escort a few 

miles ahead, behind, or on the flank – 

would most likely be able to observe 

a surfaced U-boat manoeuvring to 

gain a firing position. Thus, as Arthur 

Marder neatly concludes, ‘air escorts 

deprived U-boats of their chief 

advantage – surprise attack after 

unobserved approach.’ 38 

There is, however, a common 

misperception about air escort during 

World War One. The Barley and 

Waters staff study, which heavily 

influenced Arthur Marder’s more 

well-known volumes, states that by 

the middle of 1918, anti-submarine 

air units ‘shifted from area patrol to 

convoy close and distant escort.’ 39 

Marder failed to recognise that 

much of the evidence provided in 

the Barley and Waters study came 

from one area: the north-east coast 

of England, an area that led the 

way in air escort, but by no means 

typified a widespread, accepted 

policy. 40 Likewise, John Morrow’s (air) 

and Paul Halpern’s (naval) surveys 

generalise the role of aircraft in 1918 

and imply that air units spent most 

of their time escorting as opposed 

to patrolling. 41 

In fact, using aircraft for convoy 

escort typically took second place 

to the patrol mission. Although the 

Admiralty generally supported the air 

escort of convoys, it refused to issue 

specific orders to district commanders 

regarding air policy in this role. A 

September 1917 Admiralty letter 

to all district commanders at home 

demonstrates this phenomenon 

clearly. The letter discussed methods 

for protecting convoys as they 

entered or departed a harbour, a 

vulnerable period for every convoy. 

Aircraft were considered valuable 

in this role, ‘in order to immobilize 

all submarines as far as possible 

and sight any submarine that may 

be unwise enough to remain on the 

surface,’ but no directives regarding 

their employment were issued. 42 In 

May 1918, the Admiralty strongly 

recommended the use of aircraft 

generally in the convoy escort role, 

which explains the overall statistical 

rise in air escorts during the summer 

of 1918. The Admiralty’s Air Division 

certainly supported this policy. 43 The 

Air Division’s role, however, was 

not to command, but was simply 

to advise the Admiralty on the use 

of aircraft and to liaise with the 

Air Ministry regarding naval air 

matters. The Director, Air Division, 

recommended doctrine, but could 

not enforce it across the commands. 

Except for cases of special projects, 

such as proposed air attacks on the 

High Seas Fleet, the Admiralty Board 

itself was hesitant to provide specific 

operational orders, instead allowing 

regional Senior Naval Officers 

(SNOs) to employ aircraft as they 

saw fit. 

The following statistical analysis will 

serve to summarise the differences 

between the home commands 

regarding the use of aircraft in the 

escort role. The three tables below 

25

26 

are based on information provided 

in the Air Division’s monthly Naval 

Air Operations Reports. 44 The ‘Patrols’ 

columns indicate the number of 

single-aircraft sorties fl own from the 

air stations within the designated 

operational area. The ‘Escorts’ 

columns represent the number of 

occasions when a single aircraft 

escorted a convoy; a single patrol may 

have escorted more than one convoy 

and this could have been logged as 

two or three ‘escorts’ in one ‘patrol.’ 45 

The ratio fi gure on the right of the 

table is a direct percentage of escorts 

relative to total patrol missions and 

must therefore be regarded as an 

approximate fi gure, valuable only 

for comparative purposes. Finally, 

the last fi ve to six months of active 

anti-submarine fl ying will serve 

to highlight the fact that the use of 

aircraft for convoy escort was not 

the predominant role by the end 

of the war. 46 

For fi xed-wing aircraft, including 

aeroplanes, fl oatplanes, and 

fl ying boats of all types, the 

following table demonstrates 

the sharp differences from area 

to area. 

Table 1. Aeroplane and seaplane 

patrols and escorts, May – October 1918. 

Note that No. 18 Group outpaced 

the other areas in using fi xedwing 

aircraft as escorts. The Coast 

of Scotland and Portsmouth 

Commands, both strong in seaplane 

complements, made efforts to fl y 

more escorts, but in no way can 

this work be considered a primary 

emphasis. Finally, the remaining 

fi ve coastal areas clearly preferred 

fi xed-wing aircraft for routine 

patrols, contact patrols, and 

‘emergency’ hunts. 

Airships appeared to produce a 

much more consistent rate of escorts 

across the commands. It is surprising, 

however, to observe that the number 

of escorts generally (except for No. 

18 Group) gave way to area patrols. 

Thus, the convoy escort role was not 

‘the principal use of the airships’ as 

John Terraine overstates in Business in 

Great Waters. 47 

Table 2. Airship patrols and escorts, 

May – October 1918. 

It is interesting to note the small 

number of airship escorts in 

the Portsmouth Group. Also, 

the three major airship stations 

serving the Irish Sea varied in 

their emphasis; Pembroke’s 

ratio was 18 per cent, Anglesey’s 

20 per cent, and Luce Bay’s a 

much greater 39 per cent. Thus, 

even within an area, the focus of 

missions was not consistent. 

Finally, the statistics regarding 

kite balloons appear to be the most 

surprising. This weapon system, 

perhaps perfectly suited for convoy

escort since it was physically attached 

to a convoy escort vessel, was 

employed in drastically different 

methods from area to area. The 

fi gures below demonstrate that 

Marder’s assertion that kite balloons 

were employed ‘frequently to provide 

air escort to convoys’ did not paint a 

complete picture. 48 

Table 3. Kite balloon patrols and escorts, 

June – October 1918. 49 

Three commands stand out as clear 

supporters of the kite balloon escort 

philosophy: East Coast of England, 

Plymouth and the Irish Sea. The 

Plymouth and Irish Sea kite balloon 

units supported inbound and 

outbound ocean convoys, a suitable 

role when protection at a greater 

distance from shore was required. 

The remaining commands obviously 

chose to employ their kite balloons 

in the hunting role with patrol 

fl otillas. Finally, between June and 

October 1918, kite balloons escorted 

convoys on only 96 occasions. Given 

a fi nite number of kite balloons 

available and with differing methods 

of employment from command to 

command, there were hundreds of 

daily convoys, as part of the oceangoing 

and coastal systems that did 

not benefi t from the protection of 

kite balloons. During the entire year 

of 1918, kite balloons made only 131 

escorts. 50 Thus, a relatively small 

proportion of convoys enjoyed this 

protection. 51 

The convoy system was the key 

innovation in the anti-submarine war 

and aircraft generally contributed 

to its success. Air escort of convoys 

was an effective means of employing 

aircraft, but the percentages of 

aircraft allocated to this mission 

differed from region to region 

– differences ignored in the works 

mentioned earlier. At least 37 

squadrons of naval cooperation 

aircraft – amounting to 285 

fl ying boats and fl oatplanes, 

272 landplanes, and 100 

airships – participated in trade 

protection in Britain by the end 

of the war. 52 But since tactical 

philosophies and operational 

requirements for the use of 

these resources differed from region 

to region, we fi nd that the majority of 

these aircraft were used for air patrols 

and not for convoy escort. Only 

in northeast England did airship, 

seaplane, and aeroplane escort 

missions outnumber other forms of 

patrol work and here only barely. The 

absence of a centralised organisation 

to command all naval air contingents 

operating in home waters, such as 

RAF Coastal Command of later years, 

led to a situation where the benefi ts 

of air escort would not be equally 

enjoyed in all regions. 

Conclusion 

When Barley and Waters wrote The 

Defeat of the Enemy Attack on Shipping 

in the mid-1950s, their purpose was 

to provide a convincing argument 

in favour of convoy as the antidote 

to enemy submarine attacks against 

British commerce. This assertion was 

27

28 

intended to highlight the Admiralty’s 

alleged poor preparedness for World 

War Two, after clear lessons from 

World War One, a trend that some 

saw as being repeated during the 

early Cold War. 53 Unfortunately, 

Barley and Waters’ discussion of 

the Great War experience of air 

anti-submarine warfare (ASW) 

was over-generalised and did not 

provide a clear picture of the real 

situation; later historians, such as 

Arthur Marder and John Terraine, 

quoted from the work directly since 

it apparently provided evidence to 

support their own contentions about 

the Admiralty in World War One. 

The real historical record of RNAS 

and RAF accomplishments in their 

campaign against German U-boats 

provided key lessons in other ways. 

The three air ASW missions of 

the Great War – bombing U-boat 

bases, patrolling the sea lanes, and 

providing air convoy escort – met 

with varying degrees of success. 

Bombing the Flanders U-boat 

bases forced the Germans to invest 

heavily in their defence, but failed to 

destroy or damage U-boats at a rate 

commensurate with the effort. That 

effort suffered from a lack of focus; 

loaning RNAS bombers to the army 

in support of ground offensives and 

the need to attack Gotha bases pulled 

missions away from naval targets. 

A persistent campaign against Uboat 

bases at Zeebrugge, Ostend, 

and Bruges may have forced the 

Germans to abandon these forward 

bases in favour of more secure 

dockyards in Germany. 

RNAS and RAF air patrols along 

Britain’s littoral waters became 

increasingly effective against U-boats 

as aircraft inventories grew and 

improved designs took to the air. 

German U-boat war diaries and 

flotilla records, recovered after 

World War Two, indicate anxiety over 

increased British air patrols above 

the sea lanes. Flooding the air with 

patrols – in order to deny U-boats 

their ability to move at speed on the 

surface – hindered German hunting 

operations. Air patrols may also have 

thwarted Germany’s mine-laying 

tactics by the last year of the war. 

Finally, the most effective use of 

aircraft in the ASW role was convoy 

escort. Aircraft of all types provided 

increased visibility and almost 

immediate detection of surfaced Uboats 

or torpedo wakes. The ability 

of aircraft to ‘force multiply’ surface 

escorts was a lesson employed 

with deadly effectiveness during 

the Second World War, but in 

the First it was not a widespread 

technique. Why not? We really do 

not know for certain. We do know 

that the use of aircraft in convoy 

was a recommended tactic that was 

publicized in monthly reporting. The 

command structure of naval aviation 

during the Great War might offer 

one explanation. 

As stated above, there was no single 

commander or headquarters 

responsible for naval air operations 

during World War One. Advised by 

his air group commander, each naval 

C-in-C was free to employ his air 

assets as he deemed necessary. The 

Admiralty’s Air Department, or later 

Air Division, could formulate and 

recommend naval air doctrine, but 

these organizations had no authority 

to force regional units in the field 

to employ it. Perhaps the most 

important lesson of the Great War

was the need for a single command 

to oversee such operations. RAF 

Coastal Command thus owes much 

of its success in World War Two to the 

experience of the Great War. 

Notes 

1 Crew of Seaplane 8695, Report of 

Bombing Submarine, RN Seaplane 

Station Dunkerque, 22 Sep 1917, TNA 

ADM 137/377, 311-12, Public Record 

Office, The National Archive [TNA], 

Kew; Report of Operations, Dunkerque 

Seaplane Station and Seaplane 

Defence Flight, 22 Sep 1917, TNA AIR 

1/1880/204/221/8; C. E. S. Lusk Logbook, 

22 Sep 1917 entry, Fleet Air Arm 

Museum, RNAS Yeovilton. 

2 Robert M. Grant, U-Boats Destroyed 

(London: Putnam, 1964), 159. There 

were an additional 14 U-boats scuttled, 

bringing the total lost to 192. 

3 RNAS Anti-Submarine Report, Dec 

1917, TNA AIR 1/2105/207/41/7, 15-23; 

Technical History Section, The Technical 

History and Index, Part 4: Aircraft vs. 

Submarine, Submarine Campaign, 1918, 

March 1919, Naval Historical Branch, UK, 

19 [Hereafter TH4]. 

4 For example, Paul G. Halpern, A Naval 

History of World War I (Annapolis: 

Naval Institute Press, 1995), 424-27; 

Dwight R. Messimer, Find and Destroy: 

Antisubmarine Warfare in World War 

I (Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 

2001), Chapter 15; Lee Kennett, The First 

Air War, 1914-1918 (New York: Free Press, 

1991), 189-97; John H. Morrow, Jr., The 

Great War in the Air: Military Aviation from 

1909 to 1921 (Washington: Smithsonian 

Institution Press, 1993), 245, 324-25. 

5 Air Department, Orders for Dunkirk, 12 

September 1914, TNA AIR 1/2301/212/2. 

The force also included 60 motorcars for 

reconnaissance purposes. 

6 Norman Friedman, Seapower as 

Strategy (Annapolis: Naval Institute 

Press, 2001), 83. 

7 Vice Admiral Sir Arthur Hezlet, Aircraft 

and Sea Power (London: Peter Davies, 

1970), 98. 

8 Admiral of the Fleet Sir John R. Jellicoe, 

Crisis of the Naval War (London: Cassell, 

1920), 203. 

9 Admiralty Historical Section, The Defeat 

of the Enemy Attack on Shipping, 1939- 

1945, edited by Eric Grove (Aldershot: 

Aldgate, 1997), 10; Air Ministry, Synopsis 

of British Air Effort during the War, 1 Jan 

1919, TNA AIR 8/13, 8. 

10 Robert D. Layman, Naval Aviation in 

the First World War (Annapolis, Naval 

Institute Press, 1996), 84-85. 

11 V. E. Tarrant, The U-Boat Offensive, 1914- 

1945 (London: Arms and Armour Press, 

1989), 30-31. 

12 Bacon to Admiralty, Cover Letter: 

Report of Attack on Mariakerke 

Aerodrome and Zeebrugge carried out 

on the 21st May 1916, 24 May 1916, TNA 

AIR 1/633/17/122/83. 

13 Bacon to Admiralty, Report: Air Service 

Operations in Belgium, 6 June 1916, TNA 

AIR 1/633/17/122/90. 

14 Air Department, ‘Bombing raids from 

Dunkirk Listed by Objective, 1916-17’, 

TNA AIR 1/296/15/226/145. 

15 S. F. Wise, Canadian Airmen and the First 

World War, The Official History of the RCAF, 

Vol I (Toronto: University of Toronto 

Press, 1980), 162. 

16 Dunkirk Résumé of Operations, 

July to Sep 1917 Summary, TNA AIR 

1/629/17/117/3. 

17 Dunkirk Résumé of Operations, 16-30 

September 1917, TNA AIR 1/629/17/117/5. 

18 Walther Gladisch, Der Krieg in der 

Nordsee, Vol VII (Frankfurt: E. S. Mittler, 

1965), 319. 

19 Report of the Aircraft Bombing 

Committee, March 1919, 68, TNA AIR 

1/2115/207/56/1. 

20 H. A. Jones, The War in the Air, IV: 107- 

08; and VI: 392-93. 

21 Halpern, 415-16. 

22 JWAC Memo AIR 4: Policy of the 

29

30 

RNAS, 3 Mar 1916, TNA AIR 

1/2319/226/26. 

23 Historical Section, Defeat, 6-10. 

24 Arthur J. Marder, 1917: The Year of Crisis, 

vol. IV of From Dreadnought to Scapa Flow: 

The Royal Navy in the Fisher Era, 1904- 

1919 (London: Oxford University Press, 

1969), 82; Marder, Victory and Aftermath 

(January 1918 - June 1919), vol. V of FDSF 

(London: Oxford University Press, 

1970), 91. In his preface to Vol. IV, Marder 

thanks Waters as well as RNAS veterans 

for their advice (vii). The anti-patrol 

arguments are repeated in Tarrant, U- 

Boat Offensive, 42-43, and elsewhere. 

25 Training and Staff Duties Division, 

Naval Staff Monograph No. 35 (Historical), 

Vol. XIX: Home Waters, Part IX, 1 May 1917 

to 31 July 1917, Aug 1939, NHB, 84-5. The 

Flanders-based boats were UC62, UC63, 

UC64, UB20, and two cruises of UC71. 

26 Naval Intelligence Division, ‘Extracts 

from German Secret Instructions for 

War Against Commerce, November 

1916 - June 1917’, Nov 1917, TNA ADM 

137/3886, 33-40. 

27 Messimer, Find and Destroy, 131. Also 

see John J. Abbatiello, Anti-Submarine 

Warfare in World War I: British Naval 

Aviation and the Defeat of the U-Boats 

(London: Routledge, 2006), Chapter 7. 

28 JWAC Memo AIR 4: Policy of 

the RNAS, 3 Mar 1916, TNA AIR 

1/2319/226/26. 

29 Marder, FDSF, V: 79. 

30 Training and Staff Duties Division, 

History of British Minesweeping in the War, 

Dec 1920, NHB, 123-28. 

31 Development of the Airship Service, 

Nov 1918, TNA AIR 1/2314/221/1, 22. 

32 Minesweeping, 76. 

33 TH4, 14. 

34 William Jameson, The Most Formidable 

Thing (London: Rupert Hart-Davis), 263. 

35 Historical Section, Defeat, 4; William S. 

Sims, The Victory at Sea (Annapolis: Naval 

Institute Press, 1984), 164. 

36 Messimer, Find and Destroy, 155. 

37 TH4, 12. 

38 Marder, FDSF, V: 93. 

39 Historical Section, Defeat, 8; Marder, 

FDSF, IV: vii. 

40 Marder, FDSF, V: 92; Historical Section, 

Defeat, 5-10. 

41 Morrow, GWA, 324-25; Halpern, Naval 

History, 426-27. 

42 Admiralty Memo M.011622/17, 12 Sep 

1917, TNA ADM 137/1323, 428-36. 

43 DAD, Statistics and Notes on Escorts 

by Aircraft, 25 Jun 1918, TNA Air 

1/284/15/226/136 Part I, AD2831. 

44 TNA AIR 1/626/17/59/1-7. 

45 Statistics and Notes on Escorts by 

Aircraft, TNA Air 1/284/15/226/136 Part I, 

AD2831. 

46 As inferred by Marder and Barley/ 

Waters. Marder, FDSF, V: 91; Historical 

Section, Defeat, 7, 355. 

47 Terraine, Business, 126. 

48 Marder, FDSF, Volume V, 92. This 

statement counters an assertion in 

the previous volume (IV:271) that 

kite balloons ‘were used mostly with 

destroyers for independent submarine 

hunting.’ This inconsistency probably led 

a recent study to conclude incorrectly 

that the Admiralty abandoned kite 

balloon use with convoys. Messimer, Find 

and Destroy, 134. 

49 The kite balloon figures for the Irish 

Sea include the bases at Lough Swilly 

(Rathmullen) as well as Milford Haven. 

Additionally, this chart is based on 

returns beginning in June 1918, since 

numbers of patrols were not reported by 

base prior to this month. 

50 TH4, 19. 

51 Layman, Naval Aviation, 124. 

52 Peyton-Ward, RAF in Maritime War, 

TNA AIR 41/45, I: 44; Halpern, Naval 

History, 425. 

53 Historical Section, Defeat, Ed.’s 

introduction.

32 

Through a Glass Darkly: The Royal 

Air Force and the Lessons of the 

Spanish Civil War 1936-1939 

By Sqn Ldr Brian Armstrong 

The Spanish Civil War (SCW) 1936-1939 saw participation by ‘volunteer’ air 

forces from Germany, Russia and Italy, in order to test out the new realities of 

aerial warfare. Although the RAF is generally believed to have ignored the SCW 

to concentrate on preparing for war against Germany, in fact between 1937- 

39, the British armed forces purposely studied the SCW through two special 

joint Air War intelligence committees. This paper provides a broad picture of 

the work of the Air War committees, exploring the influence of SCW air power 

lessons as applied by the RAF leadership to bomber, fighter, close-support, 

army co-operation and weapons policy.

‘For now we see through a glass 

darkly: but then face to face…’ 

I Corinthians 13, verse 12 

The Spanish Civil War of 1936- 

1939 saw direct participation by 

the air forces of Germany, the 

Soviet Union and Italy in the guise 

of volunteers, seemingly intent to 

test out the new realities of aerial 

warfare and to learn vital lessons. 

Yet, in Great Britain, the Royal Air 

Force – the very torchbearers of air 

power – apparently regarded Spain 

as little more than an alarming 

distraction from the urgent need to 

plan and prepare for war against 

Nazi Germany. One historian bluntly 

stated that ‘…the attitude of the 

RAF towards the events in Spain 

can be described as one of general 

indifference.’ 1 

It is difficult to believe that the RAF 

would choose to pay little heed 

to the first air war since 1918 and 

not seek to draw lessons from it, 

particularly when the stakes were 

so high. Some authorities claim that 

this decision created the ignorance 

of the developments that threatened 

to be Britain’s nemesis in France 

during 1940 – the blitzkrieg weapons 

of the tank and close air support. 2 

Instead, the RAF remained devoted 

to strategic bombing, their ‘matter of 

faith’, which was quickly shattered, 

in disastrous early raids on the 

German fleet. 3 An inevitable episode 

given one commentator’s belief that 

the RAF was prepared to ‘…blithely 

ignore the lessons of Spain about the 

vulnerability of bombers to modern 

fighters…’. 4 The question has to be 

asked: Why should such perceptions 

have arisen? 

Most studies of the interwar RAF have 

concentrated on the rise of strategic 

bombing as the central pillar of RAF 

strategy. 5 However, Air Ministry 

analysis of the Spanish Civil War 

resides in the Air Intelligence branch 

files, most of which were opened 

long after the release of most official 

documents. Many well-known works 

were written before the files were 

available and research naturally 

centred on better-known, more 

accessible sources. Furthermore, 

the picture was blurred by the 

ambivalent attitude of many RAF 

leaders, whose biographies often 

portrayed Spain as a dark cloud on 

the international horizon, not as a 

subject worthy of attention per se. 6 

Yet, clear indications that the RAF 

did take note of the lessons of the 

Spanish Civil War do exist. 

John Terraine’s impressive ‘The Right 

of the Line’, does not ignore Spain, 

but makes several telling points 

about the influence, or lack of it, on 

the RAF. Terraine cites the Air Staff 

(AS) as having a tendency to learn 

the wrong lessons or to simply refuse 

to face the facts. To RAF eyes, the 

German Condor Legion ‘…gave the 

world a new lesson on the meaning 

of air power with the destruction of 

Guernica. Unfortunately, this lesson 

was so much taken to heart that 

equally important ones were discarded 

[author’s italics]’. 7 There was little 

mileage in seeking to identify 

Spanish Civil War lessons if such 

lessons were to be considered heresy: 

…the airmen could not see – let 

alone admit – that others might think 

differently [about strategic bombing]. 

Practical demonstrations did not convert 

them…the Madrid and Barcelona air 

raids…obscured the day-in and day-out 

activities of the air forces of both sides in 

33

34 

close support of ground operations. 8 

Although Hinsley’s classic work on 

the WWII British Intelligence effort 

was compiled from official sources 

before most intelligence files were 

opened, he offers definite evidence 

of an alternative approach to the 

Spanish Civil War. While detailing 

the pre-war intelligence organisation, 

he states that of the Joint Intelligence 

Committee’s activities ‘…the 

only one…which spawned subcommittees, 

was the attempt to discover 

what could be learned about air warfare 

by studying the available information 

on operations in Spain and China.’ 9 

He outlines the activities of two 

joint-service sub-committees that 

existed specifically to identify the 

Spanish Civil War lessons which 

the RAF is believed to have so 

‘blithely ignored’. In 1987, Wesley 

Wark, author of a perceptive history 

of British pre-WWII intelligence, 

illustrated the difficulties of learning 

lessons in peacetime by examining 

the RAF Air Intelligence Branch 1935 

– 1939. 10 Wark’s paper remains the 

only history of the Air War Spain 

and China Committees (AWSCC) 

between March 1937 and June 1939. 11 

In a complete rebuttal of the belief 

that the British armed forces ignored 

Spain, Wark concluded that Britain 

was the only country to make a directed 

effort to identify the military lessons of 

the Spanish Civil War. The decision 

to form joint committees was both 

original and highly innovative, and 

deserved success. Unfortunately, 

it was destined to fail. Although 

considered by the Chiefs and Deputy 

Chiefs of Staff (COS/DCOS): 

‘…a total of eight detailed reports 

on aspects of this small war failed to 

establish the right aperture for seeing the 

Spanish War…Both the CIGS 

and CAS responded…by perceiving them 

to contain threats to the doctrine and role 

of their services, based upon a failure, 

as they saw it, to understand the general 

irrelevance of the Spanish Civil War.’ 12 

Like St Paul in the opening quotation, 

the COS/DCOS peered through 

‘a glass darkly’. Straining through 

the mists of strategic orthodoxy, 

mirror-imaging and inadequate 

sources, they could only see ‘…the 

inappropriateness of taking Spain as 

any kind of a model for the conduct 

of war between first-class powers.’ 13 

They did not ignore Spain, it was 

examined in detail and its relevance 

discounted. The chance to learn 

germane lessons ‘face-to-face’ had to 

wait for WWII. 

Wark acknowledges that the closure 

of the detailed Air War Spain 

and China Committees records 

and papers at his time of writing 

rendered his picture incomplete. 

Consequently, he makes no attempt 

to examine other questions. Were 

the Air War Spain and China 

Committee’s findings accurate? 

Was the information disseminated 

appropriately? Should any lessons 

have influenced RAF policy and 

decision-making? 

This paper attempts a more holistic 

approach to the subject of the 

RAF and the Spanish Civil War. 

It draws upon extensive original 

research conducted in the UK 

National Archives, (TNA) and aims 

to provide a broad picture that goes 

beyond intelligence to address those 

intriguing, unanswered questions. 

It starts by examining the shape 

of pre-war Air Intelligence and 

the formation, work and findings

of the Air War Spain and China 

Committees. It explores the decisions 

taken by the COS/DCOS on the Air 

War Spain and China Committees 

reports and considers the influence 

of Spanish Civil War lessons on other 

great powers. Finally, it attempts to 

follow the influence of the Spanish 

Civil War as applied by the RAF 

leadership to the vital areas of 

bomber, fighter, close-support, army 

co-operation and weapons policy. 

The Evolution of Air Intelligence 

Williamson Murray wrote that 

although modern military budgets 

devote vast sums to the collection, 

analysis and dissemination of 

intelligence, intelligence in peacetime 

still plays an ambiguous role in 

the evolution of national security. 

The utility of intelligence is often 

undermined both by the influence of 

the political leader’s perceptions on 

the strategic analysis and the inability 

of analysts and decision-makers 

to view their opponents through 

anything other than a mirror image of 

their own courses of action and riskassessments. 

14 It is hardly surprising 

then, that the small, British interwar 

intelligence organisation found it 

difficult to evaluate the strategic 

situation and respond effectively. 15 To 

understand the development of the 

Air War Spain and China Committees 

reports and the COS/DCOS 

reactions, we must understand the 

evolution of RAF Air Intelligence. 

Like the army, the Air Staff 

embedded Air Intelligence in the 

Directorate of Operations and 

Intelligence (DOps & I). However, 

Hinsley writes that the higher levels 

of the military showed both antipathy 

and disinterest in intelligence, ‘... 

intelligence was thought of as a 

professional backwater, suitable 

only for officers with a knowledge 

of foreign languages and those not 

wanted for command’ 16 

Nevertheless, the RAF was aware of 

the need for increased intelligence. 

In 1935, the Air Ministry created a 

Group Captain Intelligence deputy to 

DOps & I, who would be appointed 

to Director status on declaration of 

war. Despite considerable Treasury 

opposition, an increase of staff was 

approved. 17 The Air Intelligence focus 

slowly shifted from the Middle East 

to Europe and Air Intelligence staffs 

were created at Home Command 

level. Air Intelligence’s structure 

was geographically based, with the 

German section – AI3b – becoming 

increasingly heavily employed. Each 

section had a technical officer who 

collected data rather than proactively 

studied the technical progress of 

potential enemies. 

Following a 1936 DCOS report on the 

central machinery for co-ordination 

of intelligence and discussions with 

the Secretary of the Committee of 

Imperial Defence (CID), two major 

revisions of British Intelligence 

occurred. The Committee of Imperial 

Defence’s Industrial Intelligence in 

Foreign Countries Sub-Committee 

(FCI) gained an Air Targets Sub- 

Committee, with responsibility for 

all target information including 

photographic intelligence. The 

creation of the COS Joint Intelligence 

Sub-Committee in July 1936 was 

intended to assist the Joint Planning 

Staff (JPS) to co-ordinate the work 

of the three services in planning 

and conducting operations. 18 The 

Joint Intelligence Committee was 

intended to improve the intelligence 

35

36 

flow by providing a conduit to supply 

the JPS with intelligence of a jointservice 

nature. 

By now, Air Intelligence staff were 

engaged in a constant battle to 

estimate the Luftwaffe’s changing 

front-line strength and ‘…already at 

loggerheads with the Foreign Office 

(FO) over intelligence assessments. 

Neither department prepared to 

trust the expertise or judgement of 

the other.’ 19 Worse still ‘…the Air 

Ministry’s assumptions as to how 

the Luftwaffe would be used were 

so much modelled on the RAF’s 

own plans that it not only neglected 

the available intelligence but also 

omitted to subject its acceptance of 

the prevailing opinion to technical 

study…’. 20 The 1936 move towards 

jointery should have increased the 

efficiency of the service intelligence 

departments, but the Joint 

Intelligence Committee: 

‘…remained a peripheral body; one 

which had considerable difficulty in 

developing a function to supplement 

those already being performed by the 

intelligence branches of the service 

departments, the Industrial Intelligence 

in Foreign Countries Sub-Committee 

and the Joint Planning Staff, for several 

reasons. The planners did not call for 

its views except on topics on which 

intelligence was either of a routine 

nature or hard to come by. Nor did the 

Joint Intelligence Committee show any 

initiative in volunteering appreciations 

on important questions…partly because 

Service opinion in Whitehall frowned 

on speculation.’ 21 

Wing Commander Goddard, AI3,led 

the German section. He commented 

bluntly: 22 

‘The Air Ministry founded a clandestine 

intelligence section section within 

Plans & Ops, CDS DQ – Is this 

correct or should it read Plans & 

Ops intelligence section? capable of 

giving air interpretations of the trend 

of military and economic potential 

in foreign countries in relation toAir 

Power [but even after 1936]…those 

highly responsible “policy proposers” 

preferred still to depend for intelligence 

chiefly upon their own two man 

illicit intelligence bureau…[who] had 

constituted themselves…as the 

filter through which all our advice 

was sieved…’ 23 

Thus, from 1936 – 1939, British 

Intelligence was a flawed structure 

operating under considerable 

pressure. Wark notes that their 

contribution was essentially negative 

because each service portrayed a 

‘worst-case’ scenario. This attitude 

caused the four JPS strategic 

appreciations produced between 

1936 and 1939 to present a seriously 

skewed picture of German strength. 24 

Despite clear successes in estimating 

the post-1936 Luftwaffe’s front-line 

strength, the quality of long-range 

prediction was poor. There was an 

overemphasis on Luftwaffe striking 

power evidenced by the exaggerated 

fear of the ‘knock-out blow’. 25 Official 

criticism of the likelihood of a knockout 

blow appears to have been 

actively discouraged. The ‘…operating 

factors governing Germany’s power 

to deliver a knock-out blow were not 

critically examined or the scale of 

attack questioned.’ 26 

The Formation of the Air War 

Spain Sub-Committee 

The Spanish Civil War not only 

posed a threat to international peace, 

but also offered the intelligence

community a potential laboratory in 

which to study the techniques and 

equipment of likely enemies. This was 

not lost on Air Intelligence. Within 

a month of the Spanish Civil War 

starting, Goddard had supplied the 

Deputy Chief of the Air Staff (DCAS) 

with details of aerial fi ghting and 

foreign participation. By October 

1936, he was counselling that reliable 

data would be hard to obtain. 27 He 

informed Air Plans that ‘The enclosed 

papers do not provide what you 

want…but you will see the nakedness 

of the hand of intelligence…’ 28 

However, by February 1937, a stream 

of intelligence had replaced ‘the 

nakedness’ and Air Intelligence 

were convinced of the importance of 

studying the Spanish Civil War: 

…The amount of information is already 

more than the section – AI3d – can 

deal with… certain foreign countries 

are employing their aircraft and war 

material…as a means of trying them 

out for fi tness for war, and since the 

tactics being employed by the air forces 

will undoubtedly have much to do with 

the tactics adopted in their respective 

countries, it is essential that a thorough 

investigation should be made… 29 

The Admiralty sought to persuade 

the Joint Intelligence Committee to 

formally study the Spanish Civil War. 

Surprisingly, Admiral S. H. Philips 

advocated a special sub-committee 

to study air warfare alone. He argued 

that the only information available on 

air warfare derived from 1914 – 1918 

and was both limited and potentially 

misleading when applied to modern 

war. In the fi rst use of a caveat that 

became much applied, he argued 

that ‘...this warfare may not be as 

intensive or as highly technical as 

that which may be visualised in a 

future war between fi rst-class European 

powers…’. 30 Instead of welcoming 

Admiralty support, the Air Ministry 

reacted with a mix of anger and 

suspicion. One offi cer minuted ‘…the 

Admiralty may be seeking support 

for a theory that the effect of bombing 

operations is exaggerated.’ 31 

In Joint Intelligence Committee 

debate, the Deputy Director of 

Intelligence (DDI), Group Captain 

Medhurst, was unyielding. He stated 

that three offi cers were already 

engaged in sifting and collating 

Spanish Civil War information; he 

couldn’t envisage ‘...what functions 

the Sub-Committee could usefully 

perform over and above the 

investigations now in progress in 

the Air Ministry.’ He was prepared 

to let the Sub-Committee look at the 

accumulated detail, but was certain 

that ‘…it was undesirable that this 

work should be side-tracked.’ 32 This 

is a clear example of ‘collegiality’- the 

practice of intelligence assessments 

being made on the unchallenged 

37

38 

assumption of the superiority of 

the professional judgement of each 

service in their individual sphere 

of warfare and which marred 

the fi rst three pre-war strategic 

appreciations. 33 The Deputy Director 

of Intelligence simply could not 

see what a joint committee could 

add to the Air Ministry’s expert 

assessments. However, he was 

not to have his way. In May 1937, 

Goddard was ordered to chair the 

Joint Intelligence Committee Sub- 

Committee on the Air War in Spain 

– Joint Intelligence Committee (S). 34 

The Joint Intelligence Committee 

Secretary instructed him ‘To examine 

all available information on air 

warfare in Spain…’, but reiterated the 

Admiralty’s view of the relevance of 

the Spanish Civil War ‘…since we are 

not dealing with the operations of the 

metropolitan air forces of fi rst-class 

powers [reports] should not include 

questions to which the air warfare of 

the Spanish Civil War cannot possibly 

provide the answers.’ 35 

Goddard had in fact already agreed 

this approach with the Deputy 

Director of Intelligence. He thought 

it necessary to ‘…show that Air 

Warfare as talked about nowadays, 

does not apply to the Spanish Civil 

War except in a minor degree.’ 36 This 

decision automatically reduced the 

likely impact of the Sub-Committee’s 

fi ndings by accepting that Spanish 

Civil War lessons would probably not 

be applicable to Britain, but Goddard 

briefed Joint Intelligence Committee 

(S) members not to merely list facts – as 

proposed by the Admiralty – they 

must draw conclusions and deductions, 

‘…otherwise the advantages of their 

combined expert knowledge would 

be lost.’ 37 

The Joint Intelligence Committee (S) 

agreed a framework of reports and a 

comprehensive data collection matrix. 

This data bank has not survived, but 

consisted of 18 main headings and 

103 separate sub-headings, covering 

everything from political background 

to bomb types. 38 Faced with the lack 

of sources in the country, the Joint 

Intelligence Committee (S) intended 

to use all data effectively. 

Sources 

The normal source of Spanish foreign 

and military intelligence was from 

diplomats and military attachés 

located at British embassies in Lisbon, 

Paris and Madrid. However, the 

embassy in Madrid soon evacuated to 

Hendaye, exiling the only air attaché 

in Spain, Flight Lieutenant Pearson, 

to Valencia. Goddard’s hopes for 

useable intelligence were dashed. He 

wrote to the Foreign Offi ce ‘…Pearson 

has done his best, but I think that the 

Government authorities…[believe] 

our attachés are probably informers 

for Franco...Our efforts to get in 

touch with authoritative opinion on 

Franco’s side have been abortive…’. 39 

Wark comments that Air Intelligence

attempted to make up for the loss 

by ‘...harrying these consuls [the 

British consuls in Madrid, Barcelona, 

Valencia and Cartagena]…for a 

volume of air raid reporting on the 

effects of air raids…’. 40 Certainly, 

Goddard was convinced that ‘…it is 

one thing to refrain from intervention 

but quite another to be ignorant of 

military developments in the air in 

which we cannot possibly afford to 

lag behind.’ 41 However, the results 

were very patchy. 42 

The many visitors to Spain offered 

alternative sources of information. 

These included MPs, retired officers 

and press representatives; the media 

was very active in debate about the 

Spanish Civil War. The disaster of 

Guernica, the bombing of Madrid 

and Barcelona, all attracted shocking 

newsreel footage which, when shown 

before popular film matinees, 

cemented the image of the ‘air 

menace’ and the ‘knock-out blow’ in 

the mind of the British populace. 43 

The poor quality of press reports 

meant that credence was usually only 

given to them when all other sources 

were unavailable. Visiting MPs had 

a double-edged effect on the Air 

Intelligence study. Those with 

previous military training were able 

to offer valid impressions of the 

fighting. 44 However, their visits 

sparked emotional debates in 

Westminster and some criticism of the 

British attitude to Spanish Civil War 

lessons. 45 Former officers included 

such luminaries as Major-General 

J. F. C. Fuller who made two visits to 

Nationalist Spain during 1937. 46 

There were to be no Secret 

Intelligence Service resources 

available to the Joint Intelligence 

Committee (S), although they 

considered they needed such 

assistance. 47 The final source of 

data came from actual combatants. 

Several British airmen served in the 

Spanish Civil War and the FO kept 

files on most of them. 48 Some were 

interviewed in Spain by air attaché 

Pearson and others debriefed in 

Britain. Some provided excellent 

material, but their true value seems to 

have gone unrecognised. 49 

Summaries of Information 

Contrary to Corum, Air Intelligence 

data on Spain was released to the 

RAF throughout 1936 – 1939. 50 A 

weekly summary of information was 

circulated to the Air Staff from July 

1936 and Spain invariably featured in 

Air Intelligence monthly summaries 

until July 1939. These were not highly 

classified, covered political, military 

and aerial activity and released 

revealing detail on such activity 

as bombing and ground attack, 

for widespread use. 51 From April 

to October 1937, Joint Intelligence 

Committee (S) activities were aimed 

at the production of detailed reports. 

The results were considered to be 

‘interim’, as more detailed data was 

arriving, and the Joint Intelligence 

Committee (S) sought future 

direction. 52 The three reports – ‘Anti- 

Aircraft Artillery Defence’, ‘Air attack 

on Fuel Oil Storage’ and ‘Low Flying 

Attack on Ground Forces’, were put 

to an extraordinary meeting of the 

COS in October 1937. 53 

The Joint Intelligence 

Committee (S) Reports 

Report No. 1 on Anti-Aircraft 

Artillery Defence evinced the 

difficulty of collecting data from 

Spain. This report was later to attract 

adverse criticism from the War 

39

40 

Office (WO). The Sub-Committee 

on Bombing and AA Gunfire 

Experiments reported that ‘...the 

practical value of the reports on 

air warfare in Spain was almost 

negligible as...records of the essential 

factors [speed, height of aircraft] were 

seldom ascertained…The essential 

factors were in fact...virtually 

unobtainable’. 54 However, despite 

noting that forces were ‘…badlytrained, 

poorly armed and deprived 

of essentials…’ it ignored the fact 

that ‘[they still]…managed to achieve 

important results and forced bombers 

to fly high with consequent lack of 

accuracy.’ 55 Comment was made on 

the excellence of the German AAA 

forces, the utility of their 88mm guns 

and the need for aerodrome defences. 

Yet by caveatting that the results 

‘…fell short of first-class powers…’ 

and not seizing upon the German 

performance as indicative of their 

potential in a wider war, the paper 

proffered mixed messages. 56 

Report No.2 on Air attack on Fuel 

Oil Storage stated that there was 

little to learn but for the apparently 

insignificant fact that fuel storage 

had been set alight by bombs, 

incendiary bombs and machine gun 

(MG) ammunition with equal facility. 

The RAF, unsure of its operational 

aims, did not realise that these 

results could help frame the future 

Bomber Command operational plans 

against Germany. 57 

The most important paper, No. 4 

detailed the impact of ‘Low Flying 

Attack upon Ground Forces’ and 

covered the bulk of air activity in 

Spain. In theory, it should have 

indicated that ground attack was 

now a vital element in warfare. It 

contained a ‘…combination of vivid 

but fragmentary detail, specific 

lessons and a general negative 

caveat about the relevance of the 

Spanish Civil War.’ 58 It made telling 

points about the vulnerability of 

undefended troops, lacking air-raid 

warning and camouflage, to air 

attack. It found that ‘…every report 

on mobile military ops stresses the 

positive effects of aircraft operating… 

with ground forces and…the 

demoralising effect of the absence 

of AAA and or aircraft.’ but stressed 

that ‘…tactics until latterly have not 

shown close ground-air co-operation.’ 

The scale of attack had been small 

and troops were poorly trained 

when compared to the ‘first-class 

powers’. Yet despite the ‘second-class’ 

slant, the most telling paragraphs 

concluded that ‘…the moral effect 

of air action against ground troops 

when aircraft are employed resolutely 

in conditions of undisputed air 

supremacy at the right time and place 

has been out of all proportion to the 

material results achieved. Furthermore, 

‘Material results have been considerable 

[author’s italics]…Low-flying attack 

with machine guns or bombs was 

undoubtedly more effective in battle 

than bombing, especially high level 

bombing, alone.’ 59 Although obscured 

by the many caveats, the importance 

of ground-attack aircraft in Spain 

and to future conflict was clearly 

identified in Report No. 4. (CDS 

DQ – Report 3?) 

The COS and the Joint 

Intelligence Committee (S) reports 

That the COS met specifically to 

consider the Joint Intelligence 

Committee (S) reports shows the 

value British forces placed on Spanish 

Civil War lessons. Unfortunately, 

the reports arrived during a period

of ‘détente’ between the RAF and 

the Luftwaffe. In January 1937, the 

DCAS, Air Vice-Marshal Courtney, 

visited Berlin with several officers 

including Goddard. The COS met 

on 19 October 1937 – the very week 

that Luftwaffe Generals Milch and Udet 

were in London on the reciprocal visit. 60 

The RAF viewed Spain in 1937 as 

an irrelevant conflict, but they were 

also convinced that they knew the 

Luftwaffe shared their viewpoint. 61 In 

addition, Deverell, the CIGS, was 

engaged in a parochial battle with 

Hore-Belisha, the Secretary of State 

for War, on the role of the Field 

Force (FF) and the relevance of the 

continental commitment. 62 He was 

not inclined to release resources to 

the RAF, which could further weaken 

the FF. The Joint Intelligence 

Committee (S) reports were reviewed 

by Newall (CAS), Deverell and 

Chatfield, the Chief of Naval Staff 

(CNS), accompanied by the 

Secretaries of State for War and Air, 

chaired by Sir Thomas Inskip, the 

Minister for Co-ordination of Defence. 

The minutes make it clear that 

the COS were disinclined to 

accept major lessons from Joint 

Intelligence Committee (S) reports. 

The CNS pointed out that ‘…it 

would be helpful to consider these 

reports…even though…no lessons of 

importance could be learned from them. 

It was possible that certain technical 

lessons could be learned from 

them.’ 63 The report on AAA Defence 

received considerable attention and 

emphasised that aerodrome defence 

needed further consideration. 

Deverell, conscious that the FF 

needed AAA resources, was 

adamant, ‘…the Report had been 

drawn up on meagre evidence…It 

was necessary to exercise care in 

the conclusions which should be 

drawn…’ Hankey ruled that the Air 

Ministry should review the defence 

arrangements for RAF aerodromes. 64 

CNS found the report on oil storage 

to be too limited to draw conclusions; 

another report would be needed. 

The vital paper on low-flying 

attack attracted the CAS’s only real 

intervention. When Hore-Belisha 

noted the use of aircraft in protecting 

ground forces, Newall interjected 

that ‘…this was a gross misuse of 

resources [apparently]…the Italians 

were so impressed with the results 

of low-flying attack that they had 

diverted 50 per cent of their aircraft 

to this role.’ 65 He was not about 

to follow their example. The COS 

concluded that the Joint Intelligence 

Committee (S) should report further, 

the RAF should examine aerodrome 

defences and any existing air defence 

organisation weakness was to be 

discussed interdepartmentally and 

reported to Hankey. 

Hinsley suggests that the reports had 

little influence because their lack of 

detail rendered them inconclusive. 66 

This was not true of the ground attack 

report, which contained considerable 

detail, particularly from victims of 

low-flying attacks. Sadly, the COS 

were not susceptible to suggestions 

that they should look for revelations. 

A ‘…highly conservative British 

approach to the tactical innovations… 

of the small wars…was established as 

a reflex action.’ 67 

The Joint Intelligence 

Committee (A) 

In April 1938, the Admiralty 

suggested, against opposition, that 

the Joint Intelligence Committee 

(S) should be expanded to consider 

41

42 

all air warfare. However, there was 

a strong counter-opinion that the 

Sino-Japanese conflict provided a 

fertile study ground and should be 

included alongside the completion 

of the Spanish Civil War work. Once 

again the Air Ministry seemed 

reluctant to work jointly. The Deputy 

Director of Intelligence stated that 

‘…Goddard could not be further 

deflected from his normal work.’ 68 

The Joint Intelligence Committee 

(S) continued to work, publishing a 

final report on the Spanish Civil War 

threat to the Straits of Gibraltar. 69 

Following adverse WO comment 

upon the value of the report on 

AAA Defence, the position of the 

Sub-Committee was reviewed, but 

the Joint Intelligence Committee 

finally decided to expand the Joint 

Intelligence Committee (S) to ‘… 

examine all available information on 

air war in Spain and the Far East…’ as 

the Joint Intelligence Committee Air 

War – Joint Intelligence Committee 

(A). 70 Goddard, though replaced as 

Chairman, retained responsibility for 

gathering intelligence. 

In July 1938, the Air Ministry was 

focused even more firmly on the 

growing German threat, but Spanish 

Civil War lessons could still be useful. 

Air Secretary of State Swinton wrote 

to Newall on the role of the RAF in 

national defence, stressing that ‘…the 

impression has been given, perhaps 

quite wrongly by events in Spain, that 

bombing is still an indiscriminate 

weapon which can cause considerable 

material damage but cannot as yet be 

directed with accuracy and effort…’. 71 

Swinton apparently wanted ‘to give 

a true and unbiased account not 

only of the tactics…but also the 

lessons which can be drawn…for 

a responsible people’ not realising 

how closely Britain’s bombing 

capability resembled that ‘wrong 

impression’. 72 Dutifully, Goddard 

struggled to obtain corroborating 

Joint Intelligence Committee (A) data 

from the FO. He wrote ‘I am sure that 

the British Minister and the military 

attaché [know we]…need information 

regarding the effects of bombing but 

in fact little authoritative information 

comes through.’ 73 

By November 1938, difficulties 

with Joint Intelligence Committee 

(A) resources were becoming 

apparent. The Munich Crisis led 

to the extensive revision of British 

war plans for war with Germany. 

Available manpower was at a 

premium and the Joint Intelligence 

Committee (A) members were 

needed for other duties. Home Office 

Air Raid Precaution support to the 

Joint Intelligence Committee (A) 

became problematic and important 

work on passive air defence was 

abandoned and ‘…attributed solely 

to the shortage of staff.’ 74 In February 

1939, four of eight planned reports 

had been completed and a proposal 

to dissolve the sub-committee 

was tabled. 75 While awaiting Joint 

Intelligence Committee approval, it 

was decided to complete a fifth report 

and provide an air tactics paper, but 

by March, Germany had occupied 

Prague and ‘The COS thought that if 

Germany were to attack Poland, the 

right course would be that we should 

declare war on Germany. 76 The COS 

were too preoccupied to consider 

the five completed Joint Intelligence 

Committee (A) reports, and they were 

passed to the DCOS. 77 

The DCOS and the Joint 

Intelligence Committee (A) reports 

On 10 July 1939, Goddard, now

Deputy Director of Intelligence, 

presented five Joint Intelligence 

Committee (A) reports to the DCOS: 

1. DCOS 100 – Air Attack on 

Sea Communications. 

2. DCOS 101 – Air Co-operation 

with Land Forces. 

3. DCOS 102 – Air attack 

on Industry. 

4. DCOS 103 – Effects of Air 

Warfare on Internal 

Communications. 

5. DCOS 104 – Active and 

Passive Defence. 

But the pattern of 1937 was set to 

be repeated. The DCOS vision of 

the forthcoming war could not be 

affected at this late stage. As Wark 

surmises, ‘…the Spanish Civil 

War could never have served as a 

substitute parable for war…[it was] 

too unusual a theatre of war for that 

with too marginal an employment 

of advanced technology.’ The reports 

were too disjointed with their mix of 

‘Close intelligence observation, with 

its technical details of equipment 

and events, [vying] for attention 

with possible lessons…from tactical 

innovations in that war.’ 78 

DCNS suggested that the reports 

should be widely circulated to 

ministers and commands, but 

inevitably it should be indicated 

‘…where the circumstances differed 

materially from those likely to obtain 

in a first-class war.’ 79 The report on 

air attack on sea communications 

reinforced the negative approach 

stating that ‘…neither side in 

Spain possesses equipment of the 

standard or on a scale that might 

be expected in a war between firstclass 

powers.’ 80 Although strictly 

true, Air Intelligence knew that very 

large-scale fighting was occurring. 

For the Battle of Brunete in July 1937, 

the Nationalists had assembled 

200 aircraft and the Republicans 

400 aircraft; air battles saw over 200 

aircraft in action simultaneously. 81 

The report identified ‘considerable’ 

Nationalist success against 

Republican shipping with a small 

force of aircraft from Majorca. Traffic 

had been immobilised and ports 

seriously damaged, yet the report 

merely commented that this could 

not be replicated on Britain without a 

significantly greater effort. 82 

The report on Air Co-operation with 

Land Forces posed a direct question 

about the validity of RAF air support 

policy, but it also ambivalently 

portrayed the use of low-flying 

attack as an expediency forced upon 

‘second-class powers’ in Spain. In unindustrialised 

Spain, ground forces 

presented the only worthwhile target. 

Nothing matched the target array 

required for the Air Staff’s vision of 

independent air action. 83 The report 

supported the British position on this 

‘exceptional’ use of ground-attack 

aircraft by quoting the German CAS’s 

opinion as ‘…aircraft should not be 

used in the bombardment of the 

front line but are better employed on 

attacking communications and targets 

in the forward areas.’ In addition, 

the ‘…general [ground-attack] 

employment of Italian units was 

largely at variance with Italian ideas 

on the use of air power in a major 

war. 84 However, the report recognised 

that ‘…the provision of aircraft for 

this purpose is undoubtedly receiving 

serious consideration by foreign 

powers…Italy, Germany, Japan and 

certainly Russia [sic]’. It also stated 

that the Luftwaffe ‘…has a specially 

43

44 

developed type of aircraft for close 

support and that the German Army 

is introducing special AA defensive 

organisation against such aircraft.’ 85 

Wark correctly wonders why ‘…a 

first-class power…should learn such 

lessons and develop such weapons… 

without comment by the Joint 

Intelligence Committee (A).’ 86 This 

did not occur to the DCOS. Tellingly, 

the report concluded that the case 

was proven ‘…if the full effectiveness 

of aircraft…in close support is to be 

obtained…there seems to be a prima 

facie case for a special design.’ 87 

The last major report considered 

active and passive air defence of cities 

and deployed forces. 88 ‘The special 

nature of [Spain]…encouraged an 

exceptional use of aircraft against 

ground troops’ but it also created a 

need for fighter escorts. 89 Both sides 

escorted bombers attacking inland 

towns and although Spain was a 

‘short-range’ war, the Italians were 

‘…devoting considerable attention 

to long-distance fighters. The Fiat CR 

25, with a range of 1550 miles was 

in production in 1938.’ 90 Groundattack 

aircraft were also escorted. 

‘The number of protective fighters 

was sometimes as many as twice 

the number of aircraft engaged in 

primary ground-attack.’ 91 The closing 

comment pointed clearly to the new 

reality of battlefield air attack: 

‘The power of the air weapon against 

troops in the field was impressive even 

when its influence was mitigated by 

moderate AA defences…The conclusion 

cannot be avoided that the threat of 

air attack, extending to great distances 

beyond the forward troops, makes 

necessary an ample provision for the 

active and passive defence of armies in 

the field.’ 92 

But the DCOS meeting closed 

without modifying the Committee’s 

view that there was ‘…any weakness 

in the potentialities of bombing, for 

if this had been the conclusion, the 

estimate of German capability to 

deliver a ‘knock-out’ blow against 

England would have been revised’. 93 

Instead, the accumulated intelligence 

of two years of study was: 

‘…taken to indicate that the airforces in 

Spain…had been inadequate to exploit 

the situation…Where opportunity did 

present itself of vindicating the power 

of the bomber, it had been lost by bad 

management. Regarded in this light, the 

main lessons to be learnt were negative. 

They were taken to indicate lines of 

policy that should not be adopted… 94 

Lessons of the other great powers 

Britain was not the only nation 

unable to clearly discern air power 

lessons from Spain; all interested 

nations struggled to do so. To Coox, 

the ‘Experiences of Ethiopia, Spain 

and China seemed irrelevant and 

atypical. The victorious allies of the 

WWI tended to regard their conduct 

of operations in that war to have 

been vindicated by ultimate victory.’ 95 

Without direct combat experience, 

France and the USA both found 

it difficult to identify relevant air 

warfare lessons from Spain. 

In France, the supremacy of defensive 

doctrine went relatively unchallenged 

by the Spanish Civil War. Failure 

in battle was thought a result of 

faulty defensive doctrine and poor 

weapon quality. The dominance of 

WWI tactics remained. France read 

the Spanish Civil War as negatively 

as Britain because her strategic 

orthodoxy was just as powerful.

The American Army Air Corps 

shared the vision of the primacy of 

the strategic bombing offensive with 

Britain and their study of the Spanish 

Civil War exhibited similar attitudes. 

Assistant Chief of the Air Corps, 

Brigadier-General ‘Hap’ Arnold: 

‘…commented briefly, dismissing it 

as irrelevant to modern warfare…He 

noted that strategic bombing had not 

been carried out because it was civil 

war. Air power in Spain had been 

used extensively in interdiction 

campaigns in support of ground 

forces…He advised against drawing 

lessons from Spain.’ 96 

Greer writes ‘It was argued that the 

light bomber had proved effective 

in Spain as a weapon of ground 

support [but the Air Corps]…tended 

to answer that attack planes should 

be designed for their proper purpose 

rather than for close support of 

ground units.’ 97 As a result, by 1941 ‘… 

no suitable type existed. It was stated 

that the discarding of attack aviation 

had resulted from observations of 

the Spanish Civil War, in which such 

aviation had been unsuccessful.’ 98 

In the Soviet Union, Italy and 

Germany, the powerful advantage 

of detailed feedback on operations 

and tactics was available, yet drawing 

the correct lessons proved to be 

almost as problematic as for Britain, 

France and America. The combatants 

incorporated Spanish Civil War 

lessons to formulate their approach 

to WWII. This ensured that they took 

advantage of valid innovations, but 

meant that acceptance of flawed 

lessons left a flawed doctrine for the 

WWII battles. 

The Soviet Union contributed 1,000 

personnel and 909 aircraft to the 

Republican cause. Their Spanish 

experience led to fundamental 

decisions about the validity of 

strategic bombing and close support 

of ground troops. Soviet Air Force 

General Lapchinsky, a pre-Spanish 

War advocate of Douhet, wrote that 

‘Strategic bombing could only be 

effective after the enemy’s military 

resistance had been broken [based 

on Madrid and Guernica] and…only 

possible after military resistance 

was broken because until then all 

available Airpower would have to 

be directed against the front.’ 99 The 

revised field service regulations 

of 1939 ‘…defined the air mission 

as being to reinforce the ground 

forces ‘in the direction of the main 

effort’ 100 Consequently, the Soviets 

disbanded the only European heavy 

bomber fleet. More positively, the 

success of the Soviet R.5/R.Z attack 

biplanes spurred the development of 

the IL-2 Sturhmovik, which became 

an essential part of post-1941 airground 

operations. 

Italian experience in Spain proved as 

confusing. Despite contributing its 

most modern aircraft in substantial 

45

46 

numbers, COS General Valle, 

considered that they learnt nothing 

from the Spanish Civil War. 101 

Before the war the Regia Aeronautica 

had been essentially Douhetian in 

approach, but the ground support 

operations advocated by Mecozzi 

proved effective in Spain. According 

to Sullivan the: 

‘Aviazione Legionara was left free to test 

both Douhet’s and Mecozzi’s concepts 

as Rome ordered. These experiments 

convinced Valle that ground support 

ops would defeat the Republic more 

quickly but Valle’s opponents forced 

him to continue terror bombing and 

Regia Aeronautica operational doctrine 

remained confused afterwards.’ 102 

In, particular, the failure to develop 

new fi ghter tactics had far-reaching 

effects. The predominance of 

Spanish Civil War veterans in the Air 

Ministry stifl ed tactical innovation 

and doctrine remained Spanish Civil 

War-based until 1941. Furthermore, 

the confusion over the validity of 

ground-attack prevented the Italians 

ever developing an effective close 

support aircraft. 103 

Early commentators argued that the 

Condor Legion experience dictated 

German air doctrine and forced the 

Luftwaffe to become ‘the handmaiden 

of the army’. 104 Corum insists that 

the Luftwaffe had a well-balanced 

air doctrine before the Spanish 

Civil War, which permitted both 

strategic bombing operations and 

army support. Spain allowed them 

to perfect ground-attack techniques 

to such an extent that COS Von 

Richtofen successfully advocated 

a specialised ground-attack force 

before WWII. 105 Spanish Civil War 

lessons heavily infl uenced fi ghter 

tactics and bombing doctrine, 

confi rming that fi ghter escort 

was needed for bombers and that 

‘…attacks on armies could lead to an 

earlier victory than the bombing of 

economic resources and armament 

factories.’ 106 Improvements were 

necessary in night and bad weather 

navigation while dive-bombing 

proved capable of being an effective 

substitute for horizontal bombing. 

But no improvement was made in 

bomber armament; Luftwaffe aircraft 

remained without armour protection 

and defended by single, freemounted 

machine guns. However, 

Proctor states that overall, ‘Many of 

the Germans who survived both wars 

are of the opinion that in the long 

range the negative outweighed the 

positive.’ 107 What the Spanish Civil 

War did provide was a core of 19,000 

combat veteran Luftwaffe personnel 

who were to play key roles in the 

forthcoming WWII. 108 

The Air Staff and the Lessons 

of Spain 

That the COS/DCOS did not reorient 

RAF doctrine as a result of the

Air War Spain and China Committees 

studies did not mean that their efforts 

were in vain. Perhaps the Spanish 

Civil War was too unusual a conflict 

to take as a model for future war; 

all the great powers experienced 

difficulties in identifying correct 

lessons from it. Yet, Air War Spain and 

China Committees reports contained 

extensive detail, which could have 

informed the RAF of the direction 

and pace of German technology 

and given an insight into emerging 

German doctrine and tactics. A study 

of Air Staff decision-making 1936 

– 1939 reveals that influential officers 

were well informed about Spain and 

made key decisions in the light of 

Spanish Civil War lessons. Spain 

stimulated important debate on 

tactics and weapons and influenced 

such vital discussions as air support 

for the Army in France. 

Armour and Weapons Policy 

The writer who thought that the 

RAF ‘…blithely ignored the lessons 

of Spain about the vulnerability of 

bombers to modern fighters…’ does 

not realise the efforts the RAF went 

to in 1936 – 1939. 109 Although an Air 

Staff officer wrote that: 

‘…admittedly, there have been pressing 

developments in the techniques of 

interception and fighter operations, 

[but]…the advantages conferred on the 

bomber by the amazing developments 

in speed are beyond dispute…we cannot 

rely on our close defences to save us…’ 110 

Air Commodore Slessor, Director 

of Plans (DPlans), was unimpressed 

and wrote ‘Experience in Spain by no 

means bears out that statement…we 

have so little knowledge of first-class 

warfare’ 111 While such optimism was 

being expounded, crash programmes 

to armour RAF aircraft and up-gun 

bombers were in progress. Jones 

states that the RAF ‘…formed the 

most accurate assessment of the 

hazards of daylight operations… 

bombers [needed]…powerful 

defensive armaments…in poweroperated 

turrets.’ 112 In 1936, the RAF 

issued two bomber specifications. The 

pilot was to have armour protection 

and all aircraft were to be heavilyarmed 

with powered machine gun 

turrets. 113 Air Chief Marshal (ACM) 

Dowding of Fighter Command was 

already concerned about the ability 

of his eight .303 machine gun-armed 

fighters to defeat armoured German 

bombers and cannon-armed fighters. 

Spain offered hope of establishing 

whether the RAF was lagging behind. 

The question was asked: 

‘…is armour being applied to the latest 

types of aircraft engaged in the Spanish 

war and if so what thickness…our 

present policy is to ask for a measure 

of protection for pilots of single seater 

fighters...[but] we accept the engine as 

being armour in itself.’ 114 

Air Intelligence knew the Germans 

had experimented successfully in 

combat with armour in Spain. 115 

Incendiary ammunition had been 

particularly successful and explosive 

ammunition had been used against 

International convention. Cannon 

had been reported on French and 

German aircraft as early as April 

1936. 116 Faced with the prospect of 

cannon-armed enemy fighters, an Air 

Fighting Committee (AFC) meeting 

concluded that the “…single engined 

fighter is invulnerable to .303 

[fire].” 117 ACM Ludlow-Hewitt wrote 

to the Air Ministry seeking action 

‘…Bomber Command cannot accept 

a state of complete helplessness 

47

48 

against the single-seater fi ghter’. 118 

The up-gunning of bombers, more 

ammunition and speedy provision of 

enhanced armour offered the 

only answer. 

Dowding also revised his position 

stating ‘…I consider that armour 

and bullet proof windscreens are 

fundamental requisites for modern 

fi ghters in view of the tactics, 

which they have to adopt [stern 

attacks].’ 119 Air Intelligence then 

confi rmed the use of armour in 

Spanish Civil War by Nationalist 

attack aircraft. They thought it likely 

that the Germans were considering 

protecting other aircraft, but later 

reports confi rmed that German 

aircraft were not generally fi tted with 

armour plating. 120 By October 1939, 

panic action on bomber armour was 

underway and the RAF was gaining 

the advantage; Sholto Douglas, 

the Assistant CAS (ACAS), wrote 

that all Hurricanes and 50 per cent 

of Spitfi res had received armour, 

with 20 Spitfi res being fi tted each 

week. 121 German aircraft remained 

unarmoured at the outbreak of war. 

The question of bomber armament 

vexed the Air Staff. One offi cer, 

fearing enemy fi ghters armed with 

20mm or larger calibre guns ‘…could 

not visualise the possibility of 

bombers being armed with an 

equivalent number of these weapons... 

[and] the bombers defence would 

therefore become inadequate...’ 122 The 

only option was larger guns further 

reducing speed and bomb load. 

An order for 20mm cannon turrets 

was placed in 1937, but crucially 

the bomber would have to be built 

around large gun turrets if it was 

to carry usable loads at speed. This 

was incorporated into the design 

of the B.1/39 bomber, but the .303 

machine gun would have to remain 

the standard for at least fi ve years. 123 

Unfortunately, Beaverbrook, the 

Minister for Aircraft Production, 

stopped all cannon-turret work 

in 1940 and none reached British 

bombers in wartime. 124 

The Spanish Civil War should have 

been able to offer advice on bomb 

requirements. The Air War Spain 

and China Committees had often 

attempted to equate bombing effect 

with the size of weapons used. Some 

graphic results from raids on Madrid 

were reported, but there was little 

technical examination. 125 In mid-1937, 

the RAF’s biggest bomb remained a 

500lb weapon but: 

reports from Spain indicated that the 

favourite bomb used against buildings 

was the 225 kilo [650lb] pound…The 

2,000lb bomb is twice the load capable 

of being carried on Battle and Blenheim 

aircraft…There would seem to be a 

need for the design and supply of a 

1,000lb bomb for attacks against heavy 

machinery targets. 126 

Production of a 1,000lb weapon was 

approved in 1938, but it was not 

available until June 1939. Ludlow-

Hewitt was anxious to use the 

weapon against transport targets. 127 

Spain offered relevant examples, 

some of which could infl uence 

plans ‘…it would appear that in 

the majority of attacks on railway 

lines, repairs have been possible 

with considerable rapidity. This 

indicates the desirability of harassing 

repair gangs by further carefully 

timed attacks if possible’. 128 Further 

evidence showed the potential 

vulnerability of the oil system ‘The 

lessons of the Spanish Civil War seem 

to show that undefended tanks can be 

destroyed by aircraft with the greatest 

of ease; passive defence measures… 

show no guarantee that installations 

may not be destroyed completely.’ 129 

Escorts 

Escorts for bombers had come to 

be regarded as a ‘hardy annual’ by 

the Air Staff, but numerous Spanish 

Civil War reports stating that large 

numbers of escort fi ghters were 

being used, prompted a vigorous 

Air Fighting Committee discussion 

in June 1937. 130 However, the Air 

Fighting Committee shared the 

reservations of the Air War Spain and 

China Committees. DCAS, infl uenced 

by his Luftwaffe visit, stated ‘I have 

no doubt…that the concept of fi ghter 

escorts is essentially defective.’ The 

Germans had told him that ‘…the 

circumstances of [Spain] were quite 

peculiar and very unlike…a war 

between two air powers.’ 131 Dowding, 

usually such a forward-thinker, 

dismissed the Spanish Civil War as 

irrelevant; the conditions would not 

obtain in a European war. Largescale 

use of escorts resulted because 

fi ghters were cheap, available and 

useful in a short-range war. Bombers 

were rare and expensive. 132 Fighters 

could be easily drawn off, leaving 

the bombers vulnerable. The Air 

Fighting Committee agreed that this 

ruled the single-seat fi ghter out as 

an escort but “...fi ghters with their 

fi repower mainly aft could be used 

to accompany the bombers...If multiseater 

fi ghters could be used in the 

formation...the aircraft in question 

would be virtually a converted 

bomber...’ 133 [The British tactical 

innovation resulting in the Defi ant 

being armed purely with four turretmounted 

machine guns proved a 

singular failure.] 134 The single-seater 

fi ghter could be discounted because 

it was thought Germany had no plans 

for long-range fi ghters. 

The question would not go away. 

Further Air Intelligence reports on 

escort fi ghters in Spain surfaced in 

1939. Sholto Douglas maintained ‘...It 

is true that the Germans sometimes 

escorted their bombers in Spain 

partly because their armament in 

German bombers is…weak and 

ineffective and they are therefore 

easy prey to enemy fi ghters.’ Details 

of the long-range Messerschmidt 

110 fi ghter were now known, but 

Douglas considered it an unsuitable 

49

50 

escort because it lacked enough 

rearward-firing guns. 135 What he 

wanted was ‘…a turret fighter with 

a fairly long endurance so that it 

could, if required, carry out offensive 

patrols over German territory.’ Plans 

agreed ‘…our big bomber policy will 

enable us to operate in future with 

small formations, or even with single 

aircraft, in which case escorts would 

not only be extremely uneconomical 

but would also tend to rob our tactics 

of flexibility.’ 136 

Air Support 

The Spanish Civil War should, at 

least, have spurred a re-evaluation of 

RAF support for the Army. Instead, 

Slessor (DPlans), who was ideally 

placed to influence policy, and had 

published a respected work on 

army-air co-operation in 1936, 137 

spent three years rebutting army 

demands for greater support. His 

view of the Spanish Civil War was not 

positive. Reviewing a proposed joint 

RAF-Army memorandum on FF AA 

defence, after the COS decision on 

the Joint Intelligence Committee (S) 

reports, he commented that ‘…these 

papers show an obsession on the part 

of the General Staff with the least 

probable form of land operations, 

namely a campaign in France’. He 

thought: 

...experiences in Spain…cannot be taken 

as…conditions which would obtain in 

modern warfare between two highly 

organised, fully equipped armies and air 

forces…Nevertheless, increased use of 

low flying aircraft against ground troops 

is undoubtedly a method of modern 

warfare, which the British organisation 

must take into account, [but] low flying 

attack is likely to be very costly... 138 

The RAF viewed ground-attack as a 

third or fourth priority task. Terraine 

quotes Maurice Dean as saying 

‘…between 1918-1939, the RAF forgot 

how to support the army.’ 139 The FF 

in France was to be supported by 

a small Air Component of fighters 

and reconnaissance aircraft with 

a group of Battle bombers (the 

AASF) operating independently. The 

bombers were not for direct support 

(DS) of troops. The Army produced 

demands for extra aircraft in 1939 

using supporting evidence from the 

Spanish Civil War. 140 Slessor refuted 

their demands: 

‘…the results obtained were usually 

disappointing compared with the losses 

sustained except under certain, special 

and infrequent circumstances. On 

nearly all occasions, much more 

favourable and important objectives 

could have been selected. Nevertheless, 

events in Spain have tended to raise a 

doubt about the view that the aircraft is 

not “ a battlefield weapon”…’ 141 

His view incorporated the 

experiences of 1914 – 18 and the 

Spanish Civil War and pointed 

inevitably to the same conclusions: 

a. Aircraft were not a substitute 

for artillery. 

b. Without artillery, the use of 

aircraft for attacking deployed 

troops in positions was 

limited; more effective targets 

could be found further back. 

c. Special and infrequent 

conditions were needed; local 

air superiority; enemy lack 

of small AA; a high degree 

of training and morale; careful 

orders, organisation and control. 

Not all RAF leaders agreed with him 

and some effort was made to identify 

a direct support bomber requirement

to appease army sensitivities. A twoseat, 

four machine gun turret-armed 

aircraft with a 1,000lb bombload was 

specified for direct support work 

but there would be no dive-bomber 

despite Army wishes. 142 Regrettably, 

the time had now come to learn the 

lessons ‘face-to-face’. Disaster in 

France occurred before any suitable 

aircraft could be identified. Despite 

undoubted bravery, appalling 

losses resulted when obsolete 

AASF Battles were thrown into 

direct support regardless of the 

air superiority situation. 

Conclusion 

Seventy years of hindsight leads 

many to suggest that the RAF should 

have been better prepared for war 

against the ‘Ultimate Enemy’ of Nazi 

Germany. Webster and Frankland 

certainly found it ‘…a strange result 

after twenty years of devoted work.’ 143 

Corum suggests that the RAF was 

actually ‘…the air force that was least 

capable of learning and adapting…an 

intellectually shallow service – a sort 

of gentlemen pilots club.’ 144 This short 

paper has attempted to give the lie to 

such views. 

The Interwar RAF did not continually 

and effectively assimilate the fastchanging 

pace of aerial technology. 

But it was not alone. Ferris writes 

‘One would think the RAF to be 

the only air force on earth to make 

mistakes, and the worst at procuring 

new equipment and in preparing for 

strategic bombing and air defence; 

and each of these thoughts would be 

wrong.’ 145 All nations struggled to find 

their way in air warfare, the Spanish 

Civil War potentially offered to all 

an example of what modern aerial 

warfare could be. 

This paper has sought to show that, 

although a little publicised fact, the 

RAF never ignored the Spanish Civil 

War. The British forces made an 

innovative and rare decision to act 

jointly to study Spain and air warfare. 

Two years of effort was expended 

by 20 per cent of available Air 

Intelligence resources. The results 

were widely promulgated and eight 

highly-detailed reports presented 

to the highest levels of the politicomilitary 

command structure. Senior 

RAF leaders discussed and debated 

Spanish Civil War lessons when 

making decisions on vital questions 

of fighter, bomber and close support 

policy. Regrettably, the effort failed to 

produce far-reaching results. 

Wark accurately sums up this failure 

as the norm for intelligence services 

in peacetime and this paper has 

illustrated how even the Spanish 

Civil War combatant nations found 

it difficult to identify valid lessons. 

The intelligence services could 

not easily make allowances for the 

discontinuities between past, present 

and future when applied to a period 

of rapid technological change. 146 

Military leaders could not reconcile 

the small, distant, civil war with its 

mix of highly modern technology and 

small forces with their WWI-based 

concept of a future massive clash 

between highly trained air forces. 

St. Paul’s ‘glass’ was simply too dark 

for them. Goddard later wrote ‘…the 

English have a dangerous tendency 

to confuse beliefs with facts and 

where facts conflict with traditional 

thinking, to reject them. Thus we 

come to right action by a very hard 

route.” 147 The route was hard indeed; 

almost six years on the ‘Road to 

Damascus’ and final victory. 

51

52 

Notes 

1 James S. Corum, ‘The Spanish Civil 

War: Lessons Learned and Not Learned 

by the Great Powers’, Journal of Military 

History 62 (April 1998), 315. Such attitudes 

are closely examined in my forthcoming 

doctoral thesis on ‘The RAF and the 

Lessons of the Spanish Civil War’. 

2 Charles Messenger, The Art of Blitzkrieg, 

(London: Ian Allan, 1976), 105-114 and 

134-156. 

3 MRAF Sir John Slessor, The Central 

Blue (London: Cassell, 1956), 204. Also 

Scot Robertson, The Development of RAF 

Strategic Bombing Doctrine 1919-1939 

(Westport Ct: Praeger, 1995). Introduction 

and 165. 

4 Corum – ‘Lessons Learned’, 331. 

5 Typically, Neville Jones, The Beginnings 

of Strategic Air Power – A History of the 

British Bomber Force 1923-1939, (London: 

Frank Cass, 1987). 

6 Slessor, Central Blue, 150 and 194-5. 

Also MRAF Bomber Harris, Air Offensive 

(London: Greenhill Books, 1990). 

7 John Terraine, The Right of the Line 

– The RAF in the European War 1939-1945, 

(London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1985), 46. 

8 Terraine, Right of Line, 64. 

9 F. H. Hinsley, British Intelligence in the 

Second World War, (London: HMSO, 1979), 

Vol. I, 37-39. 

10 Wesley K. Wark, The Ultimate Enemy - 

British Intelligence and Nazi Germany 1933- 

1939, (London: I. B. Taurus, 1985). 

11 Wesley K. Wark, ‘British Intelligence 

and Small Wars in the 1930s’, Intelligence 

and National Security, October 1987, 67-87. 

12 Wark, ‘Small Wars’, 77. 


14 Williamson Murray, ‘Appeasement and 

Intelligence’, Intelligence and National 

Security, October 1987, 47-67. 

15 Murray, ‘Appeasement and 

Intelligence’, 48. 

16 Hinsley, British Intelligence, 8-10. 

17 The UK National Archive [TNA] 

–AIR/2/1688, DDI Branch Staff 

Requirements. 

18 The JPS consisted of the heads of the 

three service plans sections. See Hinsley, 

British Intelligence, 32. 


20 Hinsley, British Intelligence, 78. 

21 Hinsley, British Intelligence, 37. 

22 Later Air Marshal Sir Victor Goddard 

– See The Times, Obituary, 23 January 

1987. 

23 Air Marshal Sir Victor Goddard, Epic 

Violet, unpublished manuscript in Liddell 

Hart Military Archives, Kings College, 

London, 30-37. 

24 Wark, Ultimate Enemy, 236-240. 

25 The knock-out blow was the belief that 

the Luftwaffe would direct a potentially 

decisive bomber strike against London 

in the opening days of a war. See Uri 

Bialer, The Shadow of the Bomber- the Fear 

of Air Attack and British Politics 1932-1939, 

(London: Royal Historical Society, 1980). 

26 Hinsley, British Intelligence, 38. Goddard 

comments in Epic Violet, ‘I will cite the 

belief, which I never held, that the war 

would begin with the devastation of 

London from the air. During 1938-39 I 

used to give a monthly lecture...at the 

CD College…I was required to lecture, 

not upon the probable employment of 

the GAF in war, but the…effects of a 

pre-supposed policy of employing the 

GAF exclusively upon the destruction of 

London…For I was debarred from giving 

any other option as more likely.’ 

27 See TNA-AIR//40/221 – 15 August 1936 

and 20-21 August 1936. 

28 TNA-AIR/40/219 – 1 August 1936. 

29 TNA-AIR/2/1688 – 23 February 1937. 

30 TNA-AIR/2/2022 – 17 March 1937. 

31 TNA-AIR/2/2022 – 22 March 1937. 

32 TNA-CAB/56/1- Minutes, 26 April 1937. 


34 The Sub-Committee was to consist 

of Admiralty, War Office, Foreign 

Office and Air Raid Precautions (Home 

Office) members under Air Ministry 

Chairmanship.

35 TNA-AIR/2/2022 - Joint Intelligence 

Committee (JIC) to AI3 20 May 1937 and 

TNA-CAB/56/5 – JIC Minutes, 3 March 

1937. 

36 TNA-AIR/2/2022 - Minute 13, 27 May 

1937. 

37 TNA-CAB/56/5 – JIC (S) Minutes 17 


38 TNA-CAB/56/5 – JIC (S) Minutes 17 


39 TNA-AIR/40/1487 – 8 November 1937 

40 See Jill Edwards The British Government 

& The Spanish Civil War 1936-1939, 

(London: Macmillan, 1979), 220-22 and 

AD Harvey, ‘The Spanish Civil War as 

seen by British Officers’, Royal United 

Services Institute Journal, Vol. 141, No.4, 

(1996), 65-67 and Wark, ‘Small Wars’, 73. 

41 TNA-AIR/40/1487 – 8 November 1937. 

42 TNA-AIR/40/1487-10 August 1938 and 

TNA-CAB 56/6 – 14 October 1938. 

43 See Wark, ‘Small Wars’, 67 and Bialer, 

Fear of the Bomber. 

44 TNA-WO/106/1587 - Notes on 

Nationalist Aragon Front by Wg Cdr A. 

James MP. 

45 th TNA-CAB/53/8 COS 219 Meeting, 1. 

46 TNA-WO 106/1578 & 1579 detail 

Fuller’s reports. Harvey, Spanish Civil 

War by British Officers, 65-67, covers many 

such visits. 

47 Wark, ‘Small Wars’, 72 and TNA-CAB 

56/1 JIC(S) 8 July 1938. 

48 Brian Bridgeman, The Flyers, (Swindon: 

Brian Bridgeman, 1989). 

49 TNA-AIR/40/224 – 16 February 1937 

– Report on service with Franco’s air 

force by Mr W. D. Winterbotham. It 

contains highly accurate detail on Italian 

and German aircraft and weapons. The 

acting DDI comments, ‘Any use to us? If 

not destroy’. 

50 Corum, ‘Lessons Learned’, 21. This 

suggests that little data on Spain was 

made available to the RAF. 

51 TNA-AIR/8/210, 219 and 252. 

52 th TNA-CAB/56/1 JIC 15 Meeting 

Minutes – 25 April 1938. 

53 TNA-CAB/53/33 JIC 622 (1), JIC 623 (2) 

and JIC 624 (4). 


Minutes – 15 June 1938. 


Minutes– 6 October 1937. 

56 TNA-CAB/53/33 JIC 622. 

57 TNA-CAB/53/33 JIC 623. 

58 Wark, Small Wars, 75. 

59 TNA-CAB/53/33 JIC 624. 

60 TNA-AIR/40/218 – German Visit to RAF 

October 1937. 

61 TNA-AIR/2/2797 Goddard to DCAS 

– 15 April 1937. ‘General Wenniger, the 

German Air Attaché, informed me that 

as a result of the air warfare in Spain 

which had largely been in co-operation 

with the Armies on both sides, German 

Army authorities have represented to 

the German Air Ministry (RLM), that air 

warfare in Spain has not developed along 

the lines they supposed it would in the 

next war. Although…there were obvious 

reasons for this, the RLM felt compelled 

to keep the Army quiet by allocating an 

increased number of reconnaissance 

squadrons to the Army.’ 

62 Brian Bond, British Military Policy 

between the Two World Wars (Oxford: 

Oxford University Press, 1980), 255-258. 

63 TNA-CAB/53/8 COS Committee 

– Minutes of 219th Meeting of COS Sub- 

Committee of CID, 1. 

64 TNA-CAB/53/8 COS Committee, 6. 

65 TNA-CAB/53/8 COS Committee, 13. 

This is often misquoted. Newall was 

commenting upon the use of fighters 

to defend troops from ground-attack 

aircraft. 

66 Hinsley, British Intelligence, 37-38. 



Minutes – 25 April 1938. 

69 TNA-CAB/JIC/66 – 3 June 1938. 


Minutes – 21 July 1938. The JIC(A) sat 

under Wg Cdr L. O. Brown. 

71 TNA-AIR/8/243 – 28 July 1938. 

53

54 

72 TNA-AIR/8/243 – 28 July 1938. 

73 TNA-AIR/40/1487 – AI3 to FO – 10 

October 1938. 

74 th TNA-CAB/56/6 – JIC(A), 6 Meeting 

Minutes, 17 February 1939. 

75 Wark, Ultimate Enemy, 218-219. 

76 Wark, Ultimate Enemy, 220. 

77 Slessor, Central Blue, 210. ‘…the rather 

spasmodic incursions of the DCOS… 

tended to be a bit of a fifth wheel 

on the coach…it tended to produce 

insufficiently considered solutions…’. 


79 th TNA-CAB/54/2 DCOS 40 Meeting 

Minutes – 19 July 1939. 

80 TNA-CAB/54/6 DCOS 100, 4. 

81 Karl Ries and Hans Ring, The Legion 

Condor (West Chester, Pa.: Schiffer 

Publishing, 1992), 68. TNA-CAB 54/6 

DCOS 104, Air Defence, 18, states that 

‘In the Aragon offensive of March-April 

1938, at least 500 aircraft and probably 

more, were employed by the Nationalists 

in operations lasting five weeks.’ 

82 TNA-CAB/54/6 DCOS 100, 21-23. 


84 TNA-CAB/54/6 DCOS 101, 26. 

85 TNA-CAB/54/6 DCOS 101, 27. 


87 TNA-CAB/54/6 DCOS 101,28. 

88 TNA-CAB/54/6 DCOS 104. 

89 TNA-CAB/54/6 DCOS 101, 28. 

90 TNA-CAB/54/6 DCOS 101, 10. 

91 TNA-CAB/54/6 DCOS 101, 21. 

92 TNA-CAB/54/6 DCOS 101, 31. 

93 TNA-AIR/41/39-AHB Narrative on 

Bombing Offensive Versus Germany, Part 1: 

Preparation 1917-38, 339-340. 

94 TNA-AIR/41/39, 340. 

95 Alvin D. Coox, ‘Military Effectiveness 

of Armed Forces in the Interwar Period 

1919-1941, in Allan R. Millett and 

Williamson Murray, Military Effectiveness, 

Vol. II: The Interwar Period (Winchester, 

Mass.: Allen and Unwin, 1988), 261-262. 

96 Corum, ‘Lessons Learned’, 318. 

97 Thomas H. Greer, The Development of 

Air Doctrine in Army Air Arm, (Maxwell 

AFB, Alabama: Air University, 1955), 87. 

98 Greer, Air Doctrine, 122. 

99 Earl F. Ziemke, ‘The Soviet Armed 

Forces in the Interwar Period’, in Allan R. 

Millett and Williamson Murray, Military 

Effectiveness, Vol. II: The Interwar Period 

(Winchester, Mass: Allen and Unwin, 

1988), 16. 

100 Ziemke, ‘Military Effectiveness’, 17. 

101 John F. Coverdale, Italian Intervention 

in the Spanish Civil War (New Jersey: 

Princeton University Press, 1975), 

410. Over 1,435 pilots and 764 aircraft 

served in Spain. 

102 Brian R. Sullivan, ‘Fascist Italy’s 

Military Involvement in the Spanish Civil 

War’, Journal of Military History, Vol. 59, 

No. 4, Oct 1995, 724. 

103 Sullivan, ‘Military Involvement’, 

720-721. 

104 James S. Corum, The Luftwaffe: 

Creating the Operational Air War 1918-1940 

(Kansas: University Press of Kansas, 

1997), 219-223. 

105 Corum, ‘Lessons Learned’, 326-327. 

106 Manfred Messerschmidt, ‘German 

Military Effectiveness 1918-1939’, in 

Allan R. Millett and Williamson Murray, 

Military Effectiveness, Vol. II: The Interwar 

Period (Winchester, Mass.: Allen and 

Unwin, 1988), 247. 

107 Richard L. Proctor, Hitler’s Luftwaffe 

in the Spanish Civil War, (Westport Ct.: 

Greenwood Press, 1983), 259. 

108 Proctor, Hitler’s Luftwaffe, 261-263. 


110 TNA-AIR/8/243 – 11 August 1938. 

111 TNA-AIR/8/243 – 11 August 1938. 

112 Jones, Beginnings, 170. 

113 TNA-AIR/ 16/680 – The specifications 

created the Manchester, Lancaster, 

Stirling and Halifax. 

114 TNA-AIR/ 2/3233. 

115 TNA-AIR/8/243 - AI3-2 December 1937. 

116 TNA-AIR/16/832 – AI Report. 

117 th TNA-AIR/2/3341 - AFC 13 Meeting 

– 2 January 1938. 

118 TNA-AIR/2/3341 – 25 January 1938.

119 TNA-AIR/2/3345 – 14 October 1938. 

120 TNA-AIR/2/3233 – 2 January 1939. Me 

109s received field-modified armour in 

August 1940. 

121 TNA-AIR/2/3345 – 9 October 1939. 

122 TNA-AIR/2/2073 – 9 June 1937. 

123 R. Wallace Clarke, British Aircraft 

Armament, Vol.1: RAF Gun Turrets from 

1914 to the Present Day (London: Patrick 

Stephens, London), 61-62. See also TNA- 

AIR/14/380-9 August 1938. 

124 Clarke, Aircraft Armament, Vol.1, 61. 

125 TNA-AIR/8/210 – December 1936, 

22-24. 

126 TNA-AIR/14/383 –22 April 1938. 

127 TNA-AIR/9/92 –22 July 1938. 

128 TNA-AIR/2/3043 – October 1939. 

129 TNA-AIR/9/79 – 20 March 1940. 

130 TNA-AIR/2/2073 – 9 June 1937. 


132 TNA-AIR/2/2073 – 9 June 1937. 

133 TNA-AIR/2/2073 – 9 June 1937, 3. 

134 Peter Lewis, The British Fighter since 

1914 (London: Putnam, 1979), 62. 

135 TNA-AIR/2/2613 – 13 April 1939 

and 25 June 1938. Only Dowding was 

sceptical about turret fighters. 

136 TNA-AIR/9/97–21 December 1938. 

137 Wing Commander J. C. Slessor, 

Air Power and Armies (Oxford: Oxford 

University Press, 1936). 


139 Terraine, Right of Line, 383. 

140 General Staff (Research) – Report for 

DCIGS No. 7, ‘Considerations from the 

Wars in Spain and China with Regard to 

Certain Aspects of Army Policy’ (Minley 

Manor: 31 March 1939). 

141 TNA-AIR/2/4130 – 6 June 1939. 

142 TNA-AIR/2/4229 – 2 December 1939. 

143 Sir Charles Webster and Noble 

Frankland, The Strategic Air Offensive 

against Germany: Preparation (London: 

HMSO, 1976), Vol. I, 125. 


145 John R. Ferris, ‘The Air Force Brat’s 

View of History’, International History 

Review, Vol. XX, No. 1: March 1998, 126. 


147 Goddard, Epic Violet, 36. 

55

56 

British Thinking on Air Power 

- The Evolution of AP3000 

By Gp Capt Christopher Finn 

This article traces the contemporary development of British air power doctrine 

from 1977 to the present day. By the late 1970s the published doctrine of 

WWII and the early Cold War had become stultified. The RAF had become 

focused upon the tactical aspect of the Central Region in particular and had 

developed further its anti-intellectual tendencies. The creation of the post of 

Director Defence Studies (RAF) allowed a series of individuals to challenge 

the orthodoxies of their times and, in their own ways,to stimulate a broader 

debate on the value of air power. The article suggests that while the context and 

personalities changed with time, there was a coherent line of thought about 

the reasons for articulating air power doctrine. And, more importantly, the 

principles stated were remarkably consistent and enduring ones.

“They [the USAF Doctrine Center] 

are the guys who build the box we are 

all exhorted to think outside.” 

USAF officer to author,Maxwell 

Air Force Base, 2002 

The opening quotation highlights 

the perennial problem of the 

doctrine writer; the delivery of 

a product that is not only relevant, 

but is perceived to be relevant and 

will therefore be used by those at 

whom it is aimed. In exploring the 

development of contemporary British 

air power thinking, it is perhaps 

useful to briefly examine the RAF’s 

earlier doctrine. The July 1928 edition 

of AP1300 1 stated that ‘the aim of a 

nation at war is to compel the enemy 

as quickly and economically as 

possible to conform to its purpose 

or will, thus the ultimate aim of all 

armed forces is identical although 

the means to achieve that aim 

may differ.’ Later, in the chapter 

on air bombardment, 2 it said ‘the 

bombardment of the most vital and 

vulnerable of these centres may be 

more effective and decisive than the 

direct attack on naval and military 

forces.’ The former quotation chimes 

well with both the manoeuvrist 

approach and current effects-based 

thinking, and the latter both reflects 

and anticipates the work of the 

strategic bombing theorists. The 

second edition of AP1300 3 , published 

in 1940, dealt with the context of 

war at the strategic level in terms 

of the main roles of air warfare: the 

strategic air offensive; the strategic 

air defensive; and operations in 

support of the Navy and Army. It also 

addressed the protection of air forces 

on the ground, the role of intelligence 

and operations in austere and 

undeveloped areas. It is of interest 

that this edition of AP1300 devoted 

33 pages to appreciations, the military 

planning process that is now termed 

the Estimate. 

The formal RAF air power doctrine 

of the early Cold War period was 

codified in the fourth edition of 

AP1300 4 . The introductory note by 

the Chief of the Air Staff, Air Chief 

Marshal Sir Dermott Boyle, 

stated that: 

‘Providing the great deterrent is the 

primary function of air power today 5 . 

The responsibility for providing the 

United Kingdom’s contribution to the 

deterrent rests with the Royal Air 

Force. This is our major task. And it 

must not be overlooked that the air 

defence of this country is inextricably 

part of the deterrent since it not only 

defends the bases from which our 

V-Bombers operate but also raises 

doubt in the mind of the enemy as to 

the degree of success he is likely to 

achieve in knocking out our bombers 

and consequently the degree of 

punishment which he must expect 

in return.’ 

The Manual’s approach to the other 

facets of air power was virtually 

unchanged from the wartime version. 

AP1300 did not explain doctrine 

per se, but it is implicit throughout, 

particularly in the application of 

the principles of war. Yet the role of 

the manual was clear from the final 

paragraph of the introductory note: 6 

‘Success in the military field, whether 

in the preliminary planning or in the 

actual conduct of operations, is largely 

a matter of judgement. Judgement, 

though partly intuitive, is mainly 

based on knowledge. All officers should 

therefore strive continually to increase 

their professional knowledge so that their 

57

58 

judgement may be soundly based.’ 7 

The target audience for the manual 

was primarily junior officers and 

particularly aircrew; while the 

fourth edition was printed in March 

1957, reprinted in September 1964, 

and amended in 1968, despite its 

withdrawal in the early 1970s, it was 

still used as a ‘C’ promotion exam 

(from flight lieutenant to squadron 

leader) primer as late as 1977. 

With this doctrinal background 

as a starting point, this paper will 

consider how and why current Royal 

Air Force air power doctrine has 

developed, in the form of the AP3000 

series, from 1988 to the present day, 

identifying whether the changes have 

been conceptual or contextual. In this 

story, successive Directors of Defence 

Studies (RAF) (DDS) have played a 

key role. 

The post of DDS was created in 1977 

by the CAS, Air Chief Marshal Sir 

Neil Cameron, to ‘be responsible 

for reviving and maintaining an 

interest in the study of present and 

future uses of air power in its various 

military applications’. 8 The DDS had 

direct right of access to CAS and 

his work was not to be constrained 

by current MOD thinking. 

Consequently, the first incumbent 

had no hesitation in drawing 

CAS’s attention to the fact that ‘no 

authoritative publication on air power 

concepts has been issued since the 

now defunct AP1300 of March 1957, 

last revised in 1968’. 9 Subsequent 

DDS’ expressed concern that the 

RAF’s ‘sense of unity and common 

purpose was being weakened as 

each specialist force pursued its own 

route to professional excellence’ 10 and 

proposed the formation of a single 

directorate of air power doctrine at 

the RAF Staff College, Bracknell. 

In 1988, steps were taken on an 

unofficial basis to produce a new 

RAF doctrine manual. 11 This faced 

two major hurdles. The first was the 

inherent scepticism and suspicion 

within the RAF towards a written 

doctrine, although this was perhaps 

borne of ignorance about its purpose. 

The second was the view expressed 

by several very senior officers that 

this would somehow conflict with 

NATO doctrine and thus detract from 

Alliance solidarity. However, NATO 

air power doctrine was described in 

Allied Tactical Publication 33B, and 

this was definitively ‘tactical’ rather 

than elaborating the fundamental 

principles or philosophy that would 

guide a broader thinking about the 

uses of air power within the RAF. 

Furthermore, numerous bureaucratic 

obstacles, not least the lack of a 

budget for producing the document, 

were all exploited by the project’s 

opponents. While the aspiration was 

to produce a comprehensive strategic 

manual, comprising a summary 

document, essays which elaborated 

on the key principles and references 

to permit further research, it was 

more than the market could bear 

at the time. Fortunately, there were 

also some key supporters, including 

the ACAS, Air Vice-Marshal John 

Thompson. With his approval, 

AP3000 – purposefully renumbered 

to draw a clear distinction between 

it and its predecessor, AP1300 – was 

produced on a trial basis, with a 

limited print run. It was intended that 

the trial would provoke wider and 

more mature comment, to help the 

Air Force Board assess whether the 

new air publication was necessary. 

A second edition would then be 

produced if required, incorporating

comment and with a far wider 

distribution. 

AP3000 Edition 1 was, by design, 

short and pithy and, in that sense, 

was similar to AP1300. However, in 

addition to presentational differences, 

such as the use of pictures and 

diagrams, it differed primarily in 

treating air power holistically, rather 

than separating it into individual 

roles. The purpose of doctrine as 

a statement of the fundamental 

principles for the employment of 

air power was clearly explained and 

it described three air campaigns 

– counter-air, anti-surface force and 

the strategic air offensive – plus 

two essential supporting activities, 

combat support air operations and 

ground combat support. The CAS, 

Air Chief Marshal Sir Peter Harding, 

made the target audience for AP3000 

clear in his foreword. 12 . In terms of air 

power education, the first category 

was the RAF itself. The second 

category was the UK’s allies, through 

the contribution to Alliance doctrine, 

and the last category comprised 

the RAF’s sister services, the Civil 

Service, Parliament and the general 

public, to increase the understanding 

of air power more widely. Within the 

RAF, AP3000 was aimed squarely at 

the officer cadre. 

AP3000 Edition 1 was initiated in the 

year that the CGS, General Sir Nigel 

Bagnell, directed the publication of 

the Design for Military Operations, a 

recognition that the Army had also 

been in a doctrinal lacuna for many 

years. The Heads of Defence Studies 

from the Army and the Royal Navy 

were involved in the drafting process 

for AP3000 Edition 1 and considerable 

effort went into achieving as much 

commonality as possible between the 

different environmental approaches 

and, subsequently, the first edition 

of BR1806 British Maritime Doctrine 

was published in 1995. In 1991, a first 

draft of a new, second edition was 

completed, following consultation 

and comment on the first edition. 

Apart from a very short annex on the 

allocation of resources for the armed 

services and the incorporation of 

more detailed examples and lessons 

from the 1991 Gulf War, few changes 

were considered necessary and the 

stated target audiences remained 

the same, with the exception that all 

ranks were encouraged to read the 

book rather than just officers. 

The development of RAF air 

power doctrine was not limited to 

AP3000. It was felt that the MOD 

had deliberately played down the 

role of air power in the Gulf War 

because of the impact it would have 

had on procurement processes and 

future inter-service relations. 13 So, 

to explain what air power could 

offer over other forms of warfare, an 

Air Power Working Group (APWG) 

was formed by DDS (RAF), initially 

comprising senior civilian academics, 

but later expanded to include not 

only academe, but the other services, 

the USAF and the Department of 

Air Warfare. 14 The intention was not 

only to gather a group of thinkers 

to address Air Power’s role in the 

post-Gulf War world, but also for the 

members to act as advocates of the 

British view of air power within the 

UK and with the USAF and RAAF as 

well. The Dean of SAAS was invited 

to participate, as was the Director 

of the RAAF’s Air Power Study 

Centre. The inaugural meeting in 

1994 brought together a group of Air 

Power sceptics; the challenge was to 

turn them into apostles. 

59

60 

The result was the publication of The 

Dynamics of Air Power 15 . This consisted 

of two parts. The first, ‘Evolving 

Theory’, looked at the distinctive 

characteristics of air power, the 

counter-air context, synergy in 

operations, air power force and 

coercion and air power and the role of 

the media. The second part looked at 

air power in peace support operations 

with the common thread being the 

primacy of the supporting elements 

of air power in those operations. 

While the overt target audience for 

the book was not particularly clear, as 

it was commended ‘to theorists and 

practitioners alike, 16 the intention was 

‘to get the decision makers to think’ 17 

and to further understanding of the 

issues, rather than just providing 

a simple explanation through an 

oblique look at the fundamentals. 

This was to be the first of a series of 

analyses of the efficacy of modern air 

power and, together with subsequent 

books, would provide the intellectual 

springboard for air operations and 

future versions of AP3000. However, 

the debate was not to be confined 

solely to the deliberations of the 

APWG and it was important to set 

military force in a post-Cold War and 

post-Gulf War context. In the first 

instance, a Tri-Service Conference 

established the strategic direction, 

and this was followed by a joint 

RAF/USAF Air Power Conference, 

held in 1996. Apart from making 

sister services think how each would 

contribute to the air battle of the 

future, it provided an opportunity 

for members of the APWG to 

expose their thoughts to scrutiny. 

The audience was drawn not only 

from the defence establishment, but 

included the Vice Chief of the USAF 

and senior members of other NATO 

forces, as well as politicians of all 

three main parties. An unstated aim 

was to influence any defence review 

following the 1997 election. 

In parallel, the APWG re-examined 

the validity of the concepts and 

doctrines of the Cold War era to 

ensure that the RAF was not being 

seduced by its expectations of 

technology and the resulting book, 

Perspectives on Air Power18 , examined 

the political, technological and 

military context of air power in the 

post-Cold War era. 

Concurrently, the publication of 

the first edition of British Defence 

Doctrine 19 and the UK Doctrine for Joint 

and Multinational Operations (JWP 

0-10) 20 marked a move towards joint, 

as opposed to single, service doctrine, 

embodying concepts such as the 

manoeuvrist approach and the three 

components – conceptual, moral and 

physical – of fighting power. 

In 1996, it was determined that a 

new version of AP3000 was needed, 

although this was to be ‘evolutionary, 

not revolutionary’. 21 Air Chief 

Marshal Sir Richard Johns was 

to remain CAS until April 2000, a 

month after the eventual publication 

of the new, AP3000 Edition 3, 22 and 

although he was initially sceptical of 

the need for it, his view changed 23 as 

he became convinced that the RAF’s 

doctrine must take full account of the 

changes in the strategic environment 

following the end of the Cold War, 

including the move towards 

‘jointery,’ a perspective reinforced 

by the emphasis on joint structures 

in the 1998 Strategic Defence 

Review. 24 He also felt very strongly 

that the final document needed to 

be endorsed by the other services, 

to recognise their contribution to

the generation of national air power. 

Consequently, Edition 3 was the fi rst 

to carry a joint imprimatur and was 

launched publicly at the RUSI by 

CAS and senior representatives of 

the RN and the Army. 

CAS’s views were borne of his own 

experience as Director of Operations 

during the Gulf War of 1990/91, when 

it became clear to him that the RAF’s 

operational focus on Central Europe 

had constrained its thinking and left 

it tactically infl exible. As an ex-Senior 

Air Staff Offi cer in RAF Germany and 

at HQ Strike Command, he felt that 

he had to bear his own share of the 

responsibility for the RAF’s fi xation 

with the Central Region 25 . He was 

determined that doctrine should 

not become dogma, so his aim was 

to educate his people so that they 

could develop a sound and deep 

understanding of both the strengths 

and weaknesses of air power, to 

inform the application of military 

judgement. Unsurprisingly, Air Chief 

Marshal Johns took a keen personal 

interest in the drafting process. 

The themes of Edition 3 were initially 

aired in the leading article of the 

fi rst Air Power Review, published in 

the summer of 1998. The three air 

campaigns were replaced by the core 

capabilities of air power: control of 

the air, strategic effect, joint force 

employment, combat support air 

operations and force protection. 

A slightly revised version of this 

paper was later presented, adding 

‘information exploitation’ to the 

core capabilities. However, these 

ideas were not universally wellreceived, 

with attempts being made 

by some factions within the Air 

War Centre and the dying embers 

of the RAF Staff College to kill off 

AP3000 through the drafting of an 

‘Air Operations’ chapter for the UK 

Operations Document. This was seen 

off by an alliance of CAS, ACAS, the 

Air Staff and the staff of the new 

Joint Services Command and Staff 

College, along with the three heads 

of defence studies. 26 

AP3000 Edition 3 was very different 

from its predecessors. Its contents 

could now be summarised as: 

principles of war; air power doctrine, 

comprising the core capabilities; a 

command and control philosophy of 

centralised command, decentralised 

execution and mission command; 

and, an operational philosophy 

comprising the manoeuvrist 

approach and an initial look at 

effects-based warfare. Together, 

these elements linked ends, ways 

and means. Finally, there was an 

overall statement of air strategy 

comprising emerging ideas of 

effects-based warfare, the more 

conventional campaign planning 

61

62 

methodologies and the new effectsbased 

methodology of strategy-totask. 

The core capabilities were now: 

information exploitation; control of 

the air; strategic effect of air power; 

Joint Force Employment 1 – indirect 

and direct air operations; Joint Force 

Employment 2 – combat support air 

operations; Joint Force Employment 3 

– force protection; and sustainability. 

Edition 3 was longer than its 

predecessors and was also more 

explanatory, using historical 

examples set in text boxes. The 

concept of air component command 

was implicit in Editions 1 and 2, but 

explicitly covered in Edition 3. In line 

with CAS’s direction, the primary 

purpose of Edition 3 was to explain 

the use of air power in the post-Cold 

War world from the perspective of 

a single environment in an era of 

increasing jointery. It reflected the 

SDR and lessons from the Bosnia 

campaign of 1995, but not Kosovo in 

1999. It also reflected the procedural 

and doctrinal aspects of the first 

edition of British Defence Doctrine. 

The inclusion of the language of the 

manoeuvrist approach made it more 

acceptable to the Army and it was 

now entitled British Air Power Doctrine 

to reflect its joint endorsement. The 

underlying thrust of the document 

was that airmen needed to be 

able to properly understand and 

articulate air power doctrine and 

concepts. Edition 3 aimed at a higher 

intellectual plane than previous 

editions, with the aim of enhancing 

understanding rather than providing 

simple explanations, and it increased 

the use of references and included an 

extensive bibliography. 

It was to be ten years before a new 

edition of AP3000 Edition was drafted. 

In the interim, CAS’s Air Power 

Workshop produced Air Power 21, 27 

which considered the dichotomy 

between governments taking the 

peace dividend while operational 

tempo, particularly in intervention 

operations, increased, addressing 

issues such as expeditionary 

warfare, the revolution in military 

affairs, command and control and, 

interestingly, in view of what was 

to happen in Operation IRAQI 

FREEDOM, an article on the landair 

interface, which at this time was 

a neglected area. CAS’s Air Power 

Workshop also produced British Air 

Power 28 which, inter alia, addressed 

evolving views on effects-based 

warfare, particularly with regards 

to the strategic effect of air power 

and the challenges of the age of 

transformation. However, it was 

becoming increasingly clear that 

AP3000 would again require revision, 

as Edition 3 had been finalised 

before the Kosovo campaign, and 

subsequent events, such as 9/11 

and the consequent SDR New 

Chapter and Operation ENDURING 

FREEDOM in Afghanistan, required 

consideration. Furthermore, effectsbased 

operations and net centric 

warfare had become significant 

conceptual topics. 

However, at an early stage of drafting 

in 2003, Operation IRAQI FREEDOM 

intervened and the process was put 

on hold, both to enable the doctrinal 

lessons of the conflict to be identified 

and because many of the key players 

in the process were personally 

involved in the conflict. Subsequently, 

to inform initial thinking on the 

development of AP3000 Edition 4, 29 

a joint conference, organised by the 

three Heads of Defence Studies, 

was held to examine effects-based

warfare with the aim of exploring 

what was becoming a common 

doctrinal language, despite having 

no basis in explanation or common 

understanding. Additionally, a 

conference was held to capture 

the air power lessons of Operation 

IRAQI FREEDOM in May 2004, 

including the CAS (Air Chief Marshal 

Sir Jock Stirrup), General ‘Buzz’ 

Moseley USAF (JFACC), Air Chief 

Marshal Sir Brian Burridge (UK 

National Contingent Commander) 

and Air Marshal Glen Torpy (UK 

Air Component Commander). This 

established the facts of the air war 

and also addressed themes such as 

technology, legality and ethics and 

their doctrinal implications. 

Despite this groundwork, the 

gestation of Edition 4 proved to be far 

more protracted than was originally 

foreseen. Edition 3 predated much 

of the plethora of contemporary UK 

joint doctrine that now exists and, 

consequently, included material 

that was generic across defence 

rather than being peculiar to the air 

environment; concepts such as the 

principles of war and the components 

of fighting power, for example, are 

now covered entirely adequately 

in British Defence Doctrine. This 

prompted a debate about the purpose 

of AP3000 as distinct single-service 

doctrine, and its position, within the 

hierarchy of extant joint doctrine. This 

was finally resolved at a workshop 

convened by DDS in September 2008, 

and a new draft was submitted for 

approval by the Air Staff in January 

2009, with the aim of publishing 

and distributing it in time to inform 

preparation for the next Advanced 

Command and Staff Course, which 

sits at the Joint Services Command 

and Staff College in September 2009. 

The purpose of AP3000 Edition 4 is 

to distil the essence of air and space 

power into a concise and easily 

digestible format that complements 

joint doctrine, rather than replicates 

it, so it will be shorter and generic, 

and non-air power specific concepts 

have been removed. British Defence 

Doctrine Edition 3 provides the cue, 

when it refers to the discrete 

doctrine publications of the 

maritime, land and air environments 

‘that guide the single services and 

provide the necessary familiarity 

and broad basis of understanding for 

joint and component commanders, 

formations and units to operate 

effectively across environmental 

boundaries’. 30 Accordingly, Edition 

4 has two aims: first, to provide 

authoritative conceptual direction 

on the employment of air and space 

power to airmen; and second, to 

explain as clearly as possible its 

utility to soldiers, sailors and all 

of the other actors who, as part 

of a Comprehensive Approach to 

ordering crises, are influenced by, 

or influence air and space power. 

Just as British Defence Doctrine 

‘provides the broad philosophy 

and principles underpinning the 

employment of the British armed 

forces’ 31 , so AP3000 Edition 4 aims to 

do the same for the air component, 

by describing what air and space 

power does in broad terms; thedetail 

of how it is delivered is provided 

elsewhere in the AP3000 series. The 

content is conceptual, rather than 

providing a practioners’ guide, and 

the target audience is predominantly 

at the staff training establishments; 

in particular, at squadron leader 

or wing commander level, or other 

service or civilian equivalent, at the 

Joint Services Command and Staff 

63

64 

College, and at squadron leaderlevel 

for the new Intermediate Command 

and Staff Course and at the Higher 

Air Warfare Course. However, 

AP3000 will also act as the capstone 

document to guide and inform the 

lower level, single service, doctrine 

publications that will provide the 

core syllabi for the training schools 

and new junior officer and airmen 

through-life training courses. It 

can be regarded as strategic doctrine, 

explaining the what and why of air 

power, while tactical doctrine will 

be provided in the form of AP3001, 

Air Power Essentials, giving more 

detail on the fundamentals of air 

power, and AP3002, Air Operations, 

which will explain the how of air 

power application. 

Edition 4 is sub-titled British Air and 

Space Doctrine to reflect the increasing 

importance of space to all military 

operations. It explains how British 

air and space power can be 

applied in a complex world, where 

expeditionary warfare is as likely 

to be enduring as interventionist, 

but where success in contemporary 

counter-insurgency operations, 

conducted within a framework 

of joint action, must be balanced 

against the retention of a contingent, 

full spectrum capability, able to 

deliver national security objectives 

whatever the crisis situation. The 

doctrinal heart of the publication is 

the distillation of air power into four 

core roles: control of the air, mobility 

and lift, intelligence and situational 

awareness and attack, both kinetic 

and non-kinetic. A new definition of 

air and space power is proposed, to 

reflect its importance in influencing 

events and changing behaviours, 

and its application is considered in 

terms of coercion theory. AP3000 

Edition 4 is set in the context of the 

Comprehensive Approach, adopted 

by the UK in the realisation that the 

best method of achieving militarily 

and politically favourable outcomes 

in complex crisis situations is to use 

all of the available levers of power, 

in a cross-governmental and interagency 

approach. Although some 

of the enthusiasm for an effectsbased 

approach to operations has 

abated in the decade since Edition 

3 was published, the UK’s military 

contribution to the Comprehensive 

Approach will still be expressed 

through the campaigning process, 

where the achievement of desired 

outcomes is produced by 

synchronised activities delivering 

required effects. 32 It also reflects 

the renewed emphasis on air-land 

integration, and the development of 

Networked Enabled Capability. 

It has been suggested that the 

development of AP3000 from 1988 

to the present follows a route from 

doctrinal famine to feast. Perhaps the 

RAF has observed Michael Howard’s 

dictum that doctrine should be 

subject to ‘constant and critical 

interrogation,’ although it could 

equally be accused of falling into 

the trap outlined by Richard Overy, 

where doctrine becomes an end in 

itself and will ‘solidify like a slowly 

moving lava flow.’ Be that as it may, 

analysis of the development of British 

air power doctrine over the last 20 

years reveals four enduring themes. 

The first theme is the importance 

of the contextual environment, and 

there are two key events. The first 

is the end of the Cold War, which 

exposed the lack of any publicly 

articulated understanding of how air 

power could be employed beyond

the constraints of the Central Region 

and its flanks. Subsequent pressure 

on government to take the ‘peace 

dividend’ while fighting the UK’s 

first major expeditionary war since 

Suez was the manifestation of the 

end of the Cold War and clearly 

influenced the development of 

doctrine. The second key event was 

the Strategic Defence Review and the 

subsequent ‘New Chapter.’ 33 These 

dictated increasing ‘jointery’ in the 

employment of UK Armed Forces 

and in their structures, training 

and doctrine. 

The second theme is the importance 

of personalities. The role of successive 

DDS’ (RAF) has been key in ‘leading 

the development of air power 

thinking and doctrine within the 

military and academic communities’ 34 

while the intervention of particular 

Chiefs of the Air Staff and other 

senior officers has often been critical 

in the direction of the development of 

air power doctrine. 

The next theme is the reasons 

that emerge as drivers for the 

development or amendment of 

doctrine, often linked again to 

personalities responding to events 

as they transpire. For example, one 

DDS was prompted to ‘raise RAF 

official doctrinal development from a 

near-death hibernation’ 35 as a result 

of his perception of the corporate 

approach of the contemporaneous 

RAF hierarchy, while ever-increasing 

jointery has forced AP3000 to 

articulate a coherent environmental 

air power doctrine. 

The last theme is that of the doctrine 

itself, but before examining this, 

it is necessary to define doctrine 

and its purposes in this context. 

While AP3000 has been described 

as strategic air power doctrine, the 

description of its contents through 

successive iterations in this paper 

demonstrates that it is primarily 

aimed at the operational level. 

Indeed, the core capabilities of air 

power can be seen as the operational 

level effects which air power can 

achieve; tactical level missions are 

the statements of the available 

mechanisms with which those effects 

may be achieved. 

On the other hand, the work of 

CAS’s Air Power Workshops does 

address the impact of the strategic 

level of war upon air power, and 

vice versa. It would therefore appear 

that there are two manifestations of 

doctrine present – implicit doctrine, 

described in the publications of Air 

Power Workshop and indeed in the 

proceedings of conferences, and 

explicit doctrine, codified in formal 

doctrinal publications. It is also clear 

from the content of AP3000 that at 

this level, doctrine is concerned with 

what air power can achieve and why, 

rather than how it is procedurally 

and technically employed; in 

short, what the Army describe 

as philosophy and principles. In 

this light, the various editions of 

AP3000 are remarkably consistent 

in their approach. Each describes 

the overarching philosophy of the 

British application of armed force; the 

principles of war extended latterly 

by the manoeuvrist approach. They 

all describe the operational effects of 

air power, initially expressed as the 

three air campaigns and more latterly 

as the core components, or the four 

fundamental roles in the draft Edition 

4. They all describe the enabling 

capabilities that are required to 

achieve those operational effects, and 

the command and control philosophy, 

65

66 

starting with the Cold War construct 

of centralised command and 

decentralised execution, through to 

network enabled capability and its 

impact upon the earlier philosophies. 

Finally, all discuss how these 

operational effects are crafted into 

air elements of the joint campaign, 

the joint campaign itself and the 

achievement of the desired strategic 

end state. This was firstly expressed in 

terms of an air strategy, but it is now 

encapsulated within the effects-based 

approach and the concept of strategyto-task 

or ‘joint action’ within Edition 

4. Indeed, as a way of explaining this 

level of doctrine, clear parallels can 

be drawn with the interwar, wartime 

and post-war editions of AP1300. 

The development of British air power 

doctrine from 1988 to the present 

day can be characterised in terms 

of consistency and change. The 

consistencies are apparent in the 

overall framework and approach, 

the philosophy and principles of the 

application of air power. Change 

is visible in the context, in terms 

of political changes such as the 

withdrawal of the airborne nuclear 

deterrent, or geopolitical in terms 

of the move to expeditionary air 

warfare, and also in technological 

developments. The first technological 

change has been the advent of 

relatively cheap and highly accurate 

precision-guided weapons. The 

effect of this, even over so short a 

time-span as the last 18 years, has 

been to vastly increase the ability of 

air power to deliver the offensivebased 

operational effects such as 

control of the air and strategic effect 

to support the other environmental 

commanders. But perhaps the more 

important development has been 

that of information technology in its 

broadest sense which, when coupled 

with stealth technology and precision 

weapons, enable increasingly more 

flexible and focused operational 

effects. So it would appear that while 

air power has developed hugely in 

the means for its employment, the 

principles for its application, which 

were well known at the time of the 

formation of the RAF on 1 April 1918, 

have not really changed at all: indeed, 

if they were to change regularly, 

they would not be the fundamental 

principles that British air power 

doctrine has constantly sought 

to identify and explain, from the 

publication of AP1300 through to the 

AP3000 series. 

Notes 

1 AP1300 – Royal Air Force Manual - 

Operations, Ministry of Defence, July 1928, 

Chapter I, para 3. 

2 Ibid, Chapter VIII, para 4. 

3 AP3000 – Royal Air Force Manual - 

Operations, Second Edition, Ministry of 

Defence, February 1940. 

4 AP1300 – Royal Air Force Manual 

- Operations, Fourth Edition, Ministry 

of Defence, March 1957 (reprinted 

September 1964). 

5 Ibid, p viii. 

6 Ibid, p viii. 

7 Ibid, p 4, para 20. 

8 Annex A to CAS/91111 dated 2 Nov 76. 

9 Annex A to CST/40/DDS dated 13 Sep 78. 

10 ‘Air Power Doctrine’, Air Clues, Vol 42, 

No 5, May 1988. 

11 A detailed exposé of the aims and 

problems inherent in the AP3000 project 

are contained in a letter from AVM A. G. 

B. Vallance to the author dated 5 March 

2004, summarised in the subsequent 

paragraphs. 

12 AP3000 – British Air Power Doctrine, 

Ministry of Defence, 1991, p v. 

13 Letter from Neil Taylor to author, 10

October 2002. 

14 Correspondence between Air Cdre A. 

Lambert and author. 

15 The Dynamics of Air Power, Group 

Captain Andrew Lambert and Arthur 

C. Williamson (Eds), RAF Staff College 

Bracknell, 1996. 

16 Ibid, p iv. 

17 Interview Air Commodore Lambert 

and author, October 2002. 

18 Perspectives on Air Power – Air Power 

in its Widest Context, Stuart Peach 

(Ed), Joint Services Command and Staff 

College, Bracknell, 1998. 

19 British Defence Doctrine. JWP 0-01, 

MOD London, 1996. 

20 UK Doctrine for Joint and Multi-national 

Operations, JWP 0-10, PJHQ Northwood, 

circa 1996. 

21 Correspondence Group Captain Steve 

Abbott to author, 12 November 2002. 

22 AP3000, British Air Power Doctrine 

Edition 3, HMSO 1999, p 1.2.12 – p 1.2.17. 

23 Letter Air Chief Marshal Sir Richard 

Johns to author, 7 May 2004. 

24 The Strategic Defence Review, CM399, 

London, July 1998. 

25 Letter Air Chief Marshal Sir Richard 

Johns to author, 7 May 2004. 

26 Correspondence between Stuart Peach 

and author. 

27 Air Power 21 – Challenges for the New 

Century, Peter W. Gray (Ed), Ministry of 

Defence, London, 2000. 

28 British Air Power, Defence Studies 

(Royal Air Force), Shrivenham, 2003. 

29 Effects-Based Warfare, Christopher Finn 

(Ed), Defence Studies (Royal Air Force), 

Shrivenham, 2003, Chapters 

5 and 6. 

30 rd British Defence Doctrine, 3 Edition, p. 

4-4. 

31 Ibid, p. 5. 

32 Ibid, p. 5. 

33 The Strategic Defence Review: A New 

Chapter, CM 5566 Volume 1, Ministry of 

Defence, July 2002. 

34 D Def S (RAF) TORs, 21 Aug 02. 

35 Correspondence between A. G. B. 

Vallance and author. 

67

68 

The Quest for Relevant Air Power 

- Continental Europe 

By Dr Christian Anrig 

Due to limited resources, no single European air force has been able to acquire 

the full spectrum of air power. Against the backdrop of American air power 

dominance, this situation led to a transatlantic air power capability gap. While 

much has been said about this capability gap and continental European 

reluctance to make meaningful contributions to allied military operations, the 

actual achievements and distinct features of continental European air forces 

have been neglected. This article attempts to address this neglect by scrutinising 

continental European contributions to deployed operations, by examining 

European alliance frameworks, and by analysing air power deficiencies and 

remedies. In its conclusion, the article highlights four potential guidelines for 

the development of relevant and flexible European air power.

In the course of operation 

Desert Storm, the dominance of 

American air power manifested 

itself in a way that could not have 

been anticipated. Against this 

backdrop, a prominent British air 

power scholar and practitioner 

coined the term ‘differential air 

power’, referring to a transatlantic 

air power capability gap. 1 In addition 

to this gap, American airmen began 

to consider continental Europe, 

particularly France, as obstacles to 

the ‘proper’ application of American 

air power. In a hearing of the Senate 

Committee on Armed Services in 

October 1999, the American Air 

Component Commander of Allied 

Force, Lieutenant General Michael 

Short, argued that France should 

not have been allowed to restrict 

American aviators, who had borne 

70 per cent of the air campaign over 

Serbia and Kosovo. 2 The Iraq crisis in 

early 2003 reinforced this negative 

image of ‘Old Europe’. 

While much has been said about a 

transatlantic air power capability gap 

and continental European reluctance 

to make meaningful contributions 

to allied military operations, the 

actual achievements and distinct 

features of continental European air 

forces have been neglected. Seeking 

to address this neglect, this article 

will scrutinise the contributions of 

continental European air powers to 

deployed operations. It will continue 

to examine European alliance 

frameworks and their repercussions 

for air power. Thereafter, the need 

to develop European air power, 

deficiencies in air power capabilities, 

and remedies will be examined. The 

article will conclude by highlighting 

four potential guidelines for 

developing relevant and flexible 

European air power. 

Deployed operations 

The title The Quest for Relevant Air 

Power implies that the purpose of 

European air power first has to 

be established. Air power, like all 

forms of military power, in essence 

is subservient to politics. The 

relationship between the military 

and politics is best expressed by Carl 

von Clausewitz’s famous dictum: 

‘War is merely the continuation 

of policy by other means.’ 3 Hence, 

despite the fact that air power came 

to the fore almost a century after 

Clausewitz’s statement, the relevance 

of modern air power still has to be 

assessed in Clausewitzian terms. 

Since the demise of the bipolar 

ideological and nuclear confrontation 

between the West and the East, and 

since operation Desert Storm, the 

successful liberation of Kuwait in 

early 1991, continental European 

air power has generally served two 

purposes in deployed operations 

– humanitarian relief and combating 

terrorism. Operations conducted 

for humanitarian purposes and air 

operations against the backdrop of 

the ‘War on Terror’ form the basis 

for critically examining European 

air power. 

Balkan air campaigns 

In the first half of the 1990s, the 

United States and Europe were 

confronted with internal, ethnically 

motivated conflicts in the Balkans and 

elsewhere. The most predominant 

of these was the Bosnian Civil War, 

lasting from 1992 to 1995. As a 

response to this conflict, the West 

launched a UN operation on the 

ground, and in the air, NATO 

conducted its first air campaign, 

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70 

operation Deny Flight. 

Deny Flight started on 12 April 1993. 

It was first supposed to enforce a 

declared no-fly zone over Bosnia by 

means of round-the-clock combat 

air patrols. 4 In the months that 

immediately followed, the mission 

spectrum was extended to include 

air-to-ground strikes. 5 Due to the 

narrow rules of engagement, the civil 

war parties could execute air space 

violations with near impunity, 6 and 

a total of only four CAS (close air 

support) missions were authorised in 

the course of two years. 7 

Only in the second half of 1995 did 

consensus for a more vigorous air 

campaign began to build. The 

massacre of Srebrenica in July 

1995 certainly contributed to 

sucha change in attitude. Yet the 

immediate event that triggered a 

more robust air campaign, operation 

Deliberate Force, was the shelling 

of a marketplace in Sarajevo on 28 

August 1995. Early on 30 August 

1995, NATO aircraft took off to strike 

targets in Bosnia. 8 The campaign itself 

was halted twice for negotiations. 

After these faltered, the bombing 

was resumed. 9 On 14 September, 

the Serbs agreed upon UN terms, 

which caused offensive operations 

to be suspended. 10 The avoidance of 

collateral damage was considered 

to be of strategic importance by the 

American air component commander, 

Lieutenant General Ryan. The target 

set was restricted to purely military 

targets, such as ammunition depots 

and artillery sites. 11 

The Alliance air forces, 12 flew 3,515 

sorties, including 750 strike sorties, 

and slightly more than 1,000 air-toground 

munitions were released. 13 

A total of up to 300 aircraft were 

assigned for operation Deliberate 

Force, among these approximately 

20 air-to-air refuelling aircraft. 14 In 

terms of sorties, the US services 

accomplished by far the most (66 

per cent), followed by the UK (ten 

per cent) and France (eight per 

cent), with Dutch, German, Italian, 

Spanish, and Turkish aircraft flying 

the remainder. 15 

The air campaign was part of a 

larger package, finally producing 

the November 1995 Dayton Accords 

– bringing peace to Bosnia and 

Herzegovina. The international 

sanctions started to have an effect, 

and the Bosnian-Muslims and 

Croats launched a ground offensive 

alongside the air campaign. 16 

Moreover, Deliberate Force included 

a heavy ground component. A French, 

British, and Dutch multinational 

brigade was deployed to Bosnia in 

mid-1995. According to the French 

general commanding the brigade, 

artillery fire paralysed Serb military 

movements around Sarajevo and 

produced synergies with air power. 17

Between 24 March and 9 June 1999, 

NATO embarked upon the largest 

air campaign over the Balkans, the 

goal being to stop the suppression 

of the Albanian majority in Kosovo. 18 

Why Milosevic gave in is still a 

controversial issue. A bundle of 

factors was identified, with air 

power underpinning all the other 

factors – declining support from 

Russia, NATO’s cohesion as an 

alliance, diplomatic interventions, 

and the increasing threat of a NATO 

ground intervention. 19 

In its destructive effect, Allied 

Force was much larger than its 

predecessors. Approximately 23,000 

bombs and missiles were used, 

of which 35 per cent were precisionguided, 

including 329 cruise 

missiles. 20 Unlike operation 

Deliberate Force, these munitions 

were not exclusively aimed at purely 

military target sets. Allied Force went 

beyond the immediate battlefield 

and laid waste to large parts of the 

Serbian infrastructure, including oil 

refineries along the Danube. 21 

Characteristics of the Balkan air 

campaigns 

The Balkan air campaigns had 

typical characteristics, which are 

largely related to the highly sensitive 

political environment in which the 

operations were conducted. 

Throughout the 1990s, continental 

European constituencies in general 

were not at ease with the use 

of military power for achieving 

foreign political goals. Force could 

only be applied for an evident 

humanitarian purpose. Consequently, 

the Balkan air campaigns were 

only gradually escalated. Unlike 

Desert Storm, where several target 

sets were attacked simultaneously 

– in a so-called parallel warfare 

mode, operations Deny Flight, 

Deliberate Force and Allied Force 

were gradualist, taking account of 

the brittle political environment. 

European politicians and militaries 

were reluctant to get dragged into 

an all-out war. The situation in 

Germany, and to a lesser degree in 

the Netherlands, aptly highlights 

the reality of this politically fragile 

environment. On the first night of 

operation Allied Force, a Dutch F-16 

downed one of three Serb MiG-29s 

destroyed by the Alliance. Indicating 

the sensitivity of this incident, the 

Dutch Chief of Defence, Admiral 

Lukas Kroon, expressed concerns 

about too much publicity to General 

Wesley Clark. 22 

On 30 June 1995, the German 

parliament voted in favour of a more 

robust military commitment in the 

context of the Bosnian civil war – so 

far, the Federal Republic has only 

provided AWACS personnel. The 

core of the German contribution 

encompassed eight Tornado ECR, 

specifically dedicated for SEAD 

(suppression of enemy air defences) 

missions, and six reconnaissance 

Tornado aircraft. 23 Yet nationally 

imposed rules of engagement 

provided a very narrow margin 

for German aircraft to operate. 

Their employment was restricted 

to supporting defensive actions 

of the multinational brigade. As 

a consequence, German Tornado 

aircraft were not entitled to directly 

participate in the UN mandated air 

campaign Deliberate Force. 24 While 

the Alliance could not directly draw 

upon German SEAD aircraft for 

operation Deliberate Force, the mere 

presence of German Tornado ECR 

71

72 

aircraft inhibited hostile SAM activity. 

Given Europe’s fragile political 

environment for the use of military 

force, a genuine European air power 

doctrine would have to embrace 

the realities of European politics. 

Accordingly, European air power 

doctrine also has to conceptualise 

the gradualist approach, even if this 

runs contrary to the widely accepted 

US view on air power doctrine, which 

places an emphasis on striking hard 

and swift. 

Yet gradualism and political restraints 

are not negative things per se. 

Deliberate Force is an example of 

how a gradualist joint campaign 

effectively achieved its goals, through 

concentration on the battlefield – the 

target set consisted exclusively of 

military targets – and in conjunction 

with the other tools of grand strategy. 

Secondly, against the backdrop of 

operation Allied Force, it is generally 

agreed upon that Russian diplomacy 

played a role in convincing Milosevic 

to agree to a G8 plan, in order to stop 

NATO’s air campaign against Serbia. 

It is doubtful whether the Russians 

would have been willing to exert 

pressure on the Serbs, if NATO would 

have embarked upon an all-out air 

campaign from the very beginning. 

In essence, the object in war is to 

attain a better peace. Accordingly, 

the British strategist Liddell Hart 

argued: ‘…it is essential to conduct 

war with constant regard to the peace 

you desire.’ 25 This dictum pertinently 

applies to campaigns conducted for 

humanitarian purposes. From such a 

vantage point, Deliberate Force – with 

its emphasis upon avoiding collateral 

damage and upon gradualism, can be 

regarded as a very successful military 

operation. In general, Europeans feel 

more at ease with operations, which 

clearly focus upon the battlefield in 

the narrow and traditional sense. 

Continental European air powers and 

the ‘War on Terror’ 

Despite alliance frictions in the 

course of Allied Force in 1999, 

the French Air Force was the first 

European air force to engage 

targets in Afghanistan by means of 

fighter-bombers. This kinetic phase 

was preceded by a reconnaissance 

phase, in order to provide French 

decision-makers with autonomous 

intelligence. Regarding the 

deployment of attack aircraft, the 

French approach was two-pronged. 

On the one hand, French Super 

Etendards from the aircraft carrier 

Charles de Gaulle had been flying 

missions over Afghanistan since 

December 2001. Together with 

Italian Navy Harriers operating off 

the carrier Garibaldi, these aircraft 

supported US Navy fighter-bombers 

orbiting over Kandahar and Tora 

Bora. On the other hand, six Mirage 

2000D together with two tanker 

aircraft were deployed over 6,000 

kilometers from France to Manas,

Kyrgyzstan, on 27 February 2002. On 

2 March, these aircraft, alongside 

16 French Navy Super Etendards, 

took part in operation Anaconda. 26 

The American Air Component 

Commander, General Moseley, 

argued that, given the ferocity 

of the fi ghting on the ground, he 

immediately had to engage the 

French Mirage aircraft, without 

giving them time to acclimatize. The 

French detachment, consisting of 

fi ghter-bombers and tanker aircraft, 

was the fi rst to be based at Manas, 

and General Moseley acknowledged 

France’s role in establishing a new 

front for operations over Afghanistan. 

He considered it particularly 

important to complement air power 

projected from aircraft carriers by a 

land-based approach. In June 2002, 

the French Mirage aircraft in Manas 

were joined by USMC F/A-18D 

Hornets. Both in the air and on the 

ground, co-operation between the 

two contingents was very tight. Up 

to autumn 2002, the American and 

French air forces were the only ones 

among the 12 coalition countries 

that patrolled over Afghanistan day 

and night. Missions lasted between 

four to seven hours. 27 Within seven 

months, French Mirages logged 

4,500 fl ying hours and 900 sorties, 

destroying or neutralizing 32 

targets. 28 Over a protracted period of 

time, French aircrews covered vast 

distances in each sortie. 

In the fi rst half of 2007, the French Air 

Force deployed its Rafales for the fi rst 

time to Central Asia. Their missions 

encompassed tactical reconnaissance, 

low-level passes to deter and disperse 

enemy forces or to provide close air 

support. On 1 April 2007, for instance, 

French Air Force fi ghter-bombers 

responded to a call by US troops for 

air strikes against insurgents 200 

kilometers east of Kabul. The request 

was picked up and executed by a 

Rafale and a Mirage 2000D. French 

Navy Rafales operating from the 

Charles de Gaulle also contributed to 

the fi ghting on the ground. 29 

The successful rapid integration 

of French air assets in the initial 

stages of operations Enduring 

Freedom was partly the result of 

signifi cant defence restructuring. 

Shortfalls, as experienced during 

operation Desert Storm, triggered a 

far-reaching defence reform under 

President Jacques Chirac in the 

mid-1990s, putting an emphasis 

upon modernising the conventional 

component of France’s defence 

architecture. 30 

European co-operation is highlighted 

by the fact that, on 1 October 2002, 

the French Mirage 2000D aircraft 

based in Manas were replaced by a 

European F-16 detachment. 31 This 

combined detachment consisted 

of eighteen F-16s from Denmark, 

the Netherlands, and Norway 

supported by a Dutch KDC-10 tanker 

aircraft. It is interesting to point out 

that during this transition period, 

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74 

European transport and air-to-air 

refuelling aircraft were co-ordinated 

by a common European Airlift Coordination 

Cell (EACC) based in 

the Netherlands. 32 EACC was part 

of an evolutionary process that has 

been leading to a common European 

air transport command, as will be 

elaborated further below. 

Within one year of operations, the 

Dutch fighter-bombers alone logged 

804 sorties and 4,640 flying hours, 

regularly providing close air support 

to ground troops. 33 The combined 

European F-16 detachment finally led 

to the establishment of a European 

F-16 expeditionary air wing, known 

under the acronym EPAF EAW 

(European Participating Air Forces’ 

Expeditionary Air Wing). 

The multinational F-16 deployment 

to Manas was effective despite some 

legal and procedural obstacles. In 

order to further improve co-operation 

between the European F-16 users, 

General Berlijn, then Commanderin-Chief 

Royal Netherlands Air 

Force, took the initiative to approach 

his Belgian, Danish, Norwegian and 

Polish Air Force counterparts to ask 

for their view upon establishing a 

European expeditionary F-16 wing. 

The EPAF EAW memorandum of 

understanding was finally signed by 

the defence ministers of Belgium, 

Denmark, the Netherlands, Norway, 

and Portugal during the NATO 

summit in Istanbul on 28 June 

2004. 34 The participating air forces 

intend to make optimum use of 

available and complementary assets 

in out-of-area operations, in order 

to increase efficiency. EPAF EAW 

allows for deployments involving 

two or more air forces, depending 

on the particular circumstances. 

Through this approach, national 

sovereignty is respected, with each 

participating nation defining its 

level of commitment. 35 The essential 

benefit of the EPAF EAW concept 

is synergy. Through their combined 

commitment, EPAF nations as a 

group can deliver more robust and 

sustainable force packages than 

autonomous national efforts would 

allow for. Currently, European F- 

16s under the EPAF EAW banner 

continue to support ISAF operations 

in Afghanistan. 

Rapid reaction interventions in Africa 

Military operations that have 

increasingly taken place in the post- 

Cold War era, but have attracted scant 

attention, are so-called rapid reaction 

interventions. The British and French 

armed forces have accumulated 

most experience in these operations, 

and it is basically their experience, 

which served as an example for the 

EU Battle Group concept. These are 

highly integrated operations, with 

air power playing an important force 

enabling role. Operation Palliser 

was the most prominent British 

rapid reaction operation in Africa 

of the post-Cold War era. In 2000, 

the operation decisively helped to 

stabilise civil war-torn Sierra Leone 

with minimal, but rapid, use of force. 

This article turns to an examination of 

the French experience. 

When rapidly deploying forces to 

Central Asia in early 2002, against 

the backdrop of operation Enduring 

Freedom, the French Air Force 

could draw upon a vast experience 

in small-scale deployments to 

Africa since the late 1960s. 36 These 

operations provided the French Air 

Force with the necessary expertise to

open a new front for air operations 

over Afghanistan. 

French operations in Africa have 

traditionally been autonomous 

national operations. After the Cold 

War, French forces have on many 

occasions intervened in order to 

temporarily stabilize hotspots or to 

evacuate Western citizens. As these 

operations have required quick 

reaction, power projection by air has 

proved indispensable for missionsuccess. 

Besides airlift, the French 

Air Force has often provided combat 

aircraft, giving the lean, French, 

ground force deployments a decisive 

edge in firepower. For instance, 

operation Turquoise, lasting from 22 

June until 22 August 1994, was aimed 

at stopping genocide in Rwanda 

and establishing a safe haven. Since 

Rwanda is a land-locked country 

and more than 8,000 kilometers 

away from France, rapid deployment 

could only be executed by airlift. 

The air-bridge was considerably 

augmented by chartered Russian 

wide-body transport aircraft. A total 

of 3,000 personnel and 700 vehicles 

and additional cargo were moved 

during the operation. Firepower 

was delivered by 1,200 French 

frontline troops supported by 12 

combat aircraft. 37 Further major joint 

interventions were conducted in 

Central Africa (1996), in the Congo 

(1997), and in Ivory Coast, beginning 

in late 2002. Forward deployed bases 

and troops proved to be an essential 

key to success. 

Developments in creating a common 

European security and defence policy 

have also had corollaries for French 

overseas interventions, implying 

a shift from autonomous national 

towards multi-lateral operations. One 

of the most prominent operations 

took place in the southern provinces 

of the Democratic Republic of 

Congo in mid-2003. The operation 

was a response to the killing of 

approximately 400 civilians in the city 

of Bunia by civil war factions. There 

had already been 700 lightly armed 

UN peacekeepers in place – yet they 

had not been capable of providing 

adequate security. The French 

President’s positive response to 

the UN Secretary General’s call for 

assistance in order to stabilise the 

crisis in the Ituri district paved the 

way for the EU’s first autonomous 

military operation outside Europe, 

lasting from 6 June to 1 September 

2003. Out of 1,860 troops, France 

provided 1,660 for operation 

Artemis. 38 The main combat element 

consisted of 150 French and 

approximately 75 Swedish special 

operation forces. The deployment of 

these Swedish forces is an interesting 

aspect, particularly against the 

backdrop of the country’s legacy of 

neutrality. During the operation, 

French Mirage aircraft provided close 

air support and reconnaissance. 39 

Again, inter- and intra-airlift, as 

well as forward deployed French 

bases, proved indispensable for 

the timely management of this 

humanitarian crisis. 

British and French experience in 

rapidly deploying joint contingents 

to hotspots led to the EU Battle 

Group concept; basically a joint force 

with a core of approximately 1,500 

infantry troops. At the Franco-British 

summit in Le Touquet on 4 February 

2003, the concept was raised for the 

first time. 40 After the experience of 

prolonged interventions in Bosnia 

and elsewhere, the EU Battle Group 

concept represents a thrust towards 

75

76 

more robust, but timely limited, 

operations, primarily based on 

Chapter VII of the UN Charter, which 

does not require the consent of the 

warring parties. 

For smaller European countries, the 

EU Battle Group concept represents 

a major challenge and accelerates 

their force transformation process. 

At the Council of Defence Ministers 

in Brussels on 22 November 2004, it 

was declared that Sweden, Finland, 

Norway, and Estonia intended to 

establish a multinational battle 

group, with Sweden being the lead 

nation. Out of 1,500 troops, Sweden 

contributes approximately 1,100. The 

Nordic Battle Group’s first standby 

period lasted from 1 January to 30 

June 2008. 41 Though being a landcentric 

concept, the Nordic Battle 

Group had a significant impact 

upon the Swedish Air Force’s thrust 

towards deployed operations. During 

the standby period, eight NATO 

interoperable JAS-39 C Gripen 

combat aircraft provided part of an 

air component. 42 This rapid reaction 

Gripen unit is a preliminary point 

of culmination in a considerable 

shift from an air force that was 

almost exclusively geared towards 

autonomous territorial defence 

to an air force that is getting ready 

to take on its share on the 

international stage. 

Division of labour - NATO 

and the EU 

In this section, the alliance 

frameworks, which have provided 

the political framework for various 

military operations, are examined. 

The American-led Balkan air 

campaigns, under a NATO banner 

and partly on behalf of the UN, were 

in many ways a formative experience, 

as they represented for a majority 

of European air forces the first real 

combat operations since World War 

II. These days, European nations 

engage primarily in two types of 

operations, NATO or EU operations. 

Accordingly, a division of labour 

is gradually becoming apparent 

between the two co-operative 

security bodies. While NATO’s ISAF 

operation in Afghanistan constitutes 

a support operation against the 

backdrop of the ‘War on Terror’, the 

EU focuses, besides stabilisation 

operations in the developing world 

and in the Balkans, on small-scale 

rapid-reaction interventions. 

Whereas deterrence and collective 

defence had provided the fulcrum 

during the Cold War era and have 

continued to be a central NATO 

Alliance issue, the emphasis de facto 

shifted towards peace support and 

crisis management operations after 

the Cold War. 43 Despite this shift, 

NATO remains the sole instrument 

for collective defence. It is also 

important to point out that in the 

post-Cold War era, there have been 

several initiatives to strengthen the 

European pillar in the alliance in 

order to achieve a more balanced 

transatlantic burden sharing, such 

as the ESDI (European Security and 

Defence Identity) of the early 1990s. 44 

In parallel to NATO’s re-orientation, 

EU members agreed on the 

development of a Common Foreign 

and Security Policy (CFSP) in 1992. 

Implicitly, the prospect of a future 

common defence was held out. With 

the ratification of the Amsterdam 

Treaty in June 1997, the European 

Council incorporated the Western 

European Union’s Petersberg tasks

into the EU’s CFSP. 45 These include 

humanitarian and rescue tasks, 

peace-keeping tasks, and 

peace-enforcement. 46 

Yet despite the declaration of broad 

political intentions, no concrete 

action plan for common defence 

matters was decided upon. Moreover, 

Europe’s difficulties in dealing with 

the crisis in the Balkans seriously put 

into question the effectiveness of 

the CFSP. It was essential to improve 

European military capabilities if the 

EU wanted to take on strategic 

responsibilities. This realisation led 

the UK and France, the two critical 

European military actors, to take 

action, resulting in the bilateral 

Franco-British Saint-Malo declaration 

of late 1998. 47 France and the UK 

jointly declared that ‘the Union must 

have the capacity for autonomous 

action, backed up by credible 

military forces, the means to decide 

to use them, and a readiness to 

do so, in order to respond to 

international crises.’ 48 

In the ensuing years, a rapid 

Europeanisation of the Saint-Malo 

declaration took place. Particularly, 

the EU summit in Cologne, in June 

1999, was an important milestone 

towards a European Security and 

Defence Policy (ESDP) as an integral 

part of the EU’s CFSP. In particular, 

the apparent European shortfalls 

during the Kosovo air campaign were 

a catalyst for making swift progress in 

common European defence matters. 49 

NATO and the ESDP complement 

each other. The former guarantees a 

strong transatlantic link and provides 

for collective defence, a particularly 

important aspect for the Eastern 

European members. The latter is 

particularly suited to respond to 

active requests by the UN Secretary 

General against the backdrop of 

crises in the developing world. In 

many cases, the ESDP is the natural 

choice for the conduct of non-Article 

5 crisis management scenarios. 

ESDP-led operations are, in certain 

theatres, seen as more benign than 

potential NATO operations. This 

specific reality was underlined by a 

French Air Force officer with ample 

experience in the African theatre 

at a recent NATO conference. 50 

Yet while the ESDP provides a 

suitable framework for peace 

support operations, it is less likely to 

provide an adequate framework for 

conventional high-intensity warfare 

in deployed operations. 

Critics might argue that in the field 

of defence, the EU is producing 

irrelevant redundancies in 

relation to NATO. These supposed 

redundancies, however, are of 

almost exclusively conceptual and 

not physical nature. There are no 

separate EU troops. Both NATO and 

the EU largely draw on the same 

troops – hence, there is a single set 

of forces for both institutions. There 

are some redundancies regarding 

command and control, such as a 

Civil Military Planning Cell within 

the European Union Military Staff. 

Yet these redundancies come at a 

minimal cost and are necessary. In 

order to secure political freedom of 

action, particularly in the light of 

Europe’s fragile political environment 

for military interventions, a host 

of potential options needs to be 

generated. The current environment 

is characterised by the formula ‘the 

mission defines the coalition’, as 

expressed by the former Secretary of 

77

78 

Defense, Donald Rumsfeld. 

The need to develop European 

air power 

Co-operation in the field of air power 

was already, during the days of the 

Cold War era, of pivotal importance 

– particularly given the short warning 

times in case of a Soviet surprise 

attack. Hence, NATO’s integrated 

air defence played a vital role. Yet in 

the post-Cold War era, the necessity 

to generate common approaches 

has become even more urgent. Four 

reasons for this can be identified: 

- Shift from a threat-based to 

a capability-based paradigm 

for defence planning. 

- Shift from ‘fighting in place’ 

to deployed operations. 

- Shift from deterrence postures 

to real operations. 

- Costs for advanced air power 

technology combined with 

European reluctance to keep 

defence spending on a Cold 

War level. 

The Cold War, with its clearly defined 

threats, provided governments and 

militaries alike with a more or less 

reliable framework for planning, 

force structuring, and procurement. 

This certainty ceased to exist. Instead, 

Western armed forces had to shift 

from a threat-based to a capabilitybased 

approach. The threat-based 

approach basically meant that forces 

were tailored according to a relatively 

clear Warsaw Pact threat. With the 

end of the Cold War, these clearly 

defined threats ceased to exist. As a 

consequence, it has been attempted 

to structure armed forces along 

a number of defined capabilities, 

in order to be able to respond to a 

number of scenarios, ranging from 

alliance defence to peace support and 

humanitarian operations. 

In the post-Cold War era, the 

challenge of a sensible force mix 

concerns both larger and smaller 

European actors. For the smaller 

nations, the particular question is 

what particular capabilities they 

should provide, in order to contribute 

to a sensible force mix on a supranational 

level. These capabilities 

include offensive aspects such as 

precision-strike, defensive aspects such 

as theatre ballistic missile defence, or 

force enabling aspects such as air-toair 

refuelling. They underpin the four 

core air power roles – control of the 

air, mobility and lift, intelligence and 

situational awareness, and attack, both 

kinetic and non-kinetic. In the current 

environment of deployed operations, 

a fully autonomous force must be able to 

meet all these roles. Yet achieving 

full effectiveness in all areas is, and 

will almost certainly remain, beyond 

the affordable reach of a single 

European nation. 

The second reason identified to 

generate common approaches to 

air power is the shift from ‘fighting 

in place’ to deployed operations. 

Deployed operations actually 

require more roles to be covered 

than traditional territorial alliance 

defence. This particularly concerns 

the areas of mobility, sustainability 

and force protection. 

Thirdly, the shift from deterrence 

postures to real operations revealed 

significant shortfalls in European 

force structures. Unlike the Cold War 

deterrence postures, real operations 

are unforgiving in exposing shortfalls.

Capabilities not only have to exist 

on paper, but they must be robust, 

deployable and usable at short 

notice. Moreover, real operations are 

challenging and demanding in terms 

of interoperability issues. 

Finally, costs for advanced air power 

technology, combined with European 

reluctance to keep defence spending 

on a Cold War level, are major 

challenges in generating modern 

air power. In sum, political, fi nancial 

and technological constraints 

and trends have prevented most 

European nations from acquiring 

air power capabilities comparable 

to those of the United States. 51 As 

a consequence, the transatlantic 

air power capability gap continued 

to widen in the 1990s, as operation 

Allied Force clearly demonstrated. 

Defi ciencies in European 

air power 

Allied Force is referred to as 

a benchmark for highlighting 

defi ciencies in European air power 

and for examining developments 

that have taken place since 1999. 

In the course of Allied Force, the 

United States was shouldering 

by far the largest burden. While 

some European allies were able to 

make valuable SEAD contributions 

or to deliver precision-guided 

munitions, many European allies 

lacked the capabilities to operate 

effectively with the US services, 52 

which contributed 59 per cent of 

all allied aircraft involved in the air 

campaign and released over 80 per 

cent of the expended munitions. 53 

Approximately 23,000 bombs and 

missiles were used, of which 35 per 

cent were precision-guided, including 

329 cruise missiles. 54 

Examining NATO’s air campaign 

as a model for possible future 

European military operations, a 

British defence expert argued in 

2000 that the approximately 500 allweather 

bombers that the UK, France, 

Germany and Italy could fi eld at 

the time needed to be increased by 

about 50 per cent. 55 Furthermore,the 

transatlantic capability gap became 

visible in the fi elds of AAR (air-toair 

refuelling) and airborne standoff 

jamming. As regards the latter, 

NATO’s air campaign hinged entirely 

upon US capabilities. In the domain 

of AAR, approximately 90 per cent 

of the sorties were fl own by American 

aircraft. 56 

Air mobility 

The post-Cold War era revealed 

signifi cant gaps in European strategic 

airlift. This problem is related to 

the fact that during the Cold War, 

Western European armed forces were 

supposed to fi ght ‘in place’. 

As a consequence, with a signifi cant 

increase in out-of-area operations, 

European air forces have suffered 

from a shortage in strategic airlift 

capacities. Even at the end of the 

79

80 

1990s, Western Europe did not own a 

single military wide-body transport 

aircraft capable of lifting a main 

battle tank. 57 In 2001, the RAF was 

the first European air force to bridge 

this gap by leasing four C-17s from 

Boeing with the option to buy at the 

end of the lease period. The aircraft 

were finally procured and the fleet 

was extended to six aircraft by early 

July 2008. 58 

Yet it would be wrong to conclude 

that strategic mobility just depends 

on transport aircraft. Deployable 

ground infrastructure represents a 

major shortcoming in European air 

power, too. Against the backdrop 

of the NATO Response Force air 

component, the Royal Air Force 

and the French Air Force have so 

far been the only air forces to 

provide deployable air bases on a 

national basis. 59 

AAR – a specific element of air 

mobility – is one of the foremost 

European shortcomings in deployed 

operations. Whereas the USAF, 

the USN and the USMC together 

operated more than 650 tanker 

aircraft of various types in 2006, the 

air forces of France, Germany, Italy, 

the Netherlands, Spain, Sweden, and 

the United Kingdom could muster 

approximately seventy aircraft, with 

the UK and France providing the 

bulk of the European tanker fleet. 60 

This gap is likely to remain so. 

The UK and France, operating the 

largest European tanker fleets, plan 

to replace their aging fleets by 14 

Airbus multi-role tanker transport 

aircraft each. 61 As a consequence, 

there is likely to remain a significant 

imbalance between the shaft and the 

spear, between force enablers and 

offensive air power. 

Precision strike 

The shortfalls in kinetic air power 

have been addressed more vigorously 

than the issue of force enablers. 

Accordingly, European air forces 

went to great lengths in the wake 

of Allied Force at improving their 

precision strike capabilities. During 

operation Allied Force, when 

American forces and the Royal Navy 

released a total of 329 cruise missiles, 

the continental Europeans were not 

in a position to contribute to the 

cruise missile campaign. Since then, 

the Germans and French have been 

acquiring over one thousand missiles 

combined, 62 and France has been 

pursuing an innovative approach 

through the AASM (armament air sol 

modulaire), basically a rocket boosted 

precision-guided bomb which can 

function as a cheap substitute for 

cruise missiles or which can be used 

to engage targets of opportunities, 

depending on the homing device. 63 

Technological advancements since 

Allied Force have also significantly 

enhanced firepower per aircraft. 

The Rafale or Eurofighter Typhoon 

for instance are capable of releasing 

a standard air-to-ground weapons 

load of four to six precision-guided 

munitions, whereas in Allied Force, 

strike aircraft, such as the Tornado, 

the Mirage 2000D or the F-16, carried 

a standard weapon load of only two 

laser-guided bombs. Such an increase 

in firepower puts the above argument 

by a British commentator, that 

Europe would have to increase its 500 

all-weather bombers by 50 per cent, 

into a different perspective. While 

the lack in precision firepower has 

been addressed quite effectively, the 

imbalance between the shaft and the

spear still remains problematic. 

Remedies 

Improvements in European defence 

are often presented as inextricably 

linked to limited defence budgets 

and to a lack of investment in 

research and development. Yet cooperative 

approaches to European 

air power might offer more value 

for money, as has already been 

highlighted by the development 

of the European F-16 wing against 

the backdrop of operations in 

Afghanistan. Further alternatives 

include role specialisation as well as 

doctrinal and operational responses. 

Moreover, command and control 

gained a new emphasis in the post- 

Cold War era, in order to effectively 

employ air power assets. 

European airlift co-operation 

In the wake of the Kosovo air 

campaign, Lord Garden argued that 

the support area, especially airlift, 

offered opportunities for pooling 

and rationalisation without too many 

issues of national sovereignty. 64 In the 

meantime, European air forces have 

indeed been active in this field, and a 

number of complementary initiatives 

can be identified. 

Since 2001, European Air Group air 

forces 65 have commonly co-ordinated 

their airlift assets first through 

the European Airlift Coordination 

Cell (EACC) based in Eindhoven, 

which was further evolved into the 

European Airlift Centre (EAC) in 

mid-2004. 66 The rotation of the 

French Mirage detachment in Manas 

with the European F-16 component 

was facilitated by EACC. Moreover, 

Europeans have started both to 

commonly charter and to commonly 

procure wide-body/long-range 

transport aircraft. These days, there 

are basically two complementary 

initiatives. The first initiative is the 

so-called Strategic Airlift Interim 

Solution (SALIS), under which 

a multinational consortium of 

16 countries, led by Germany, is 

chartering Antonov An-124-100 

transport aircraft. SALIS has been 

operational since March 2006. The 

SALIS initiative contributes to 

bridging the European capability 

gap in strategic airlift until the 

commissioning of the European 

A400M military transport aircraft. 

SALIS is equally available to 

both NATO and EU operations, 

underlining the strategic 

partnership between the two 

alliance frameworks. 67 

NATO’s Strategic Airlift Capability 

initiative for its part is an example 

of shared ownership. Ten NATO 

countries plus two Partnership for 

Peace (PfP) nations, Finland and 

Sweden, signed a memorandum 

of understanding confirming their 

participation in commonly acquiring 

and sustaining three C-17 strategic 

transport aircraft. Based at Papa 

81

82 

airbase in Hungary, the aircraft, 

scheduled for 2009, will be flown and 

maintained by multinational crews. 68 

The most far-reaching project is the 

European Air Transport Command 

(EATC) initiative. At the Franco- 

German summit in November 1999, 

France and Germany declared 

their intention to transform their 

co-operation in the field of military 

airlift into a common transport 

command. 69 In May 2007, finally, 

an agreement between Germany, 

France, Belgium, and the Netherlands 

was signed for establishing EATC, 

which is supposed to reach initial 

operational capability in early 2009. 70 

This multi-lateral approach will 

provide each of these countries with 

an unprecedented surge capability, as 

EATC will pool more than 100 Airbus 

A400Ms from Germany, France, and 

Belgium. 71 Against the backdrop of 

sustained out-of-area operations 

or rapid reaction operations, cooperation 

in the field of military 

airlift will enhance European power 

projection capabilities significantly. 

Role specialisation 

Unlike the pooling of assets, role 

specialisation has been politically 

more sensitive. As a consequence, 

role specialisation has been taking 

place by default – due to lack 

of resources – rather than by a 

deliberate policy. Role specialisation 

is perceived to supposedly limit 

national freedom of action. In 

particular, nations are reluctant to 

become reliant on other allies for 

particular capabilities. 

Yet small nations in any case have 

to limit themselves to a very narrow 

band-with of roles. Very often these 

are primarily relegated to quick 

reaction alert, air policing, a tactical 

precision-strike and reconnaissance 

capability, tactical mobility and a very 

limited inter-theatre airlift capability 

to re-supply up to battalion-sized 

contingents in deployed operations. It 

would be beneficial for small nations 

to explore the potential of role 

specialisation more systematically 

and to acquire subject matter 

expertise in certain key areas, which 

would allow them to gain leverage 

within an alliance or a coalition. 

Reluctance to go down the path of 

role specialisation also contributes to 

the European imbalance between the 

shaft and the spear. Particularly small 

countries, which have to make hard 

choices due to constrained defence 

resources, emphasise so-called 

kinetic air power capabilities over 

force enabling capabilities. Kinetic 

assets are still seen as providing 

for a country’s defence, whereas an 

overemphasis on force enablers is 

seen as excessive role specialisation. 

This attitude exacerbates the teethto-tail 

ratio on a supra-national level. 

Despite the fact that the potential 

procurement of a limited number 

of C-17s in the late 1990s by a 

medium-sized European state would 

have generated an international 

leverage out of proportion to the 

costs involved, this option has not 

been pursued. Instead, the 

emphasis has been placed on the 

acquisition of offensive assets, such 

as combat helicopters. 

A particular example that shows 

the benefits of role specialisation is 

electronic warfare. Airborne standoff 

jamming represents a significant 

European shortfall. In the meantime, 

there are projects in Germany and 

France to remedy this gap. 72 Yet

it seems to be unnoticed that the 

Swedish Air Force has retained 

an expertise in airborne stand-off 

jamming for most of the post-Cold 

War era. In the late 1990s for 

instance, ten two-seat Viggens were 

modifi ed into dedicated electronic 

warfare platforms. These so-called 

SK-37E Viggens were phased out in 

mid-2007. As a next step, the JAS-39 

D Gripen might be further developed 

into an electronic warfare platform. 

Yet the project does not have the 

highest priority within the Swedish 

Air Force. 73 The Swedish Air Force 

ought to place a particular 

emphasis on retaining and 

improving this capability, as it 

would give Sweden a sought-after 

niche capability and hence leverage 

in composite air operations. This 

capability could be put at the 

disposal of the EU, and Sweden is 

also seeking active co-operation 

with NATO and involvement in 

NATO’s Response Force. 

Doctrinal and operational responses 

Doctrinal and operational responses 

can function as force multipliers, 

as they allow European air forces 

to rely more on human-centric 

approaches than on hardware and 

software. Examples are standoff 

jamming and SEAD. They are 

considered capabilities that have 

become indispensable for composite 

air operations. Yet, real operations 

have proven that there are ways to 

operate effectively without these 

specifi c capabilities under certain 

circumstances. In the course of 

operation Deny Flight, the American 

Air Component Commander 

announced that all missions had to 

be escorted by SEAD aircraft. Some 

European allies, however, expressed 

their doubts about this far from 

fl exible way of operating. 74 Instead 

of over-reliance on SEAD and standoff 

jamming assets, Dutch pilots 

preferred to make their fl ight patterns 

as unpredictable as possible. 75 It was 

basically an argument on whether 

to rely on rigid force packages with 

stand-off jammers and dedicated 

SEAD assets or to draw upon air 

power’s fl exibility. 

The Royal Netherlands Air Force 

(RNLAF) displayed distinct national 

approaches to air power in the air 

campaigns over Bosnia. Since the 

mid-1980s, the RNLAF had been 

pioneering the so-called swing-role 

concept. In contrast, other European 

F-16 users were employing the 

aircraft in fi xed roles only. 76 All Dutch 

F-16 pilots are trained in both the 

air-to-air and air-to-ground role. 77 

Due to this concept and its inherent 

fl exibility, Dutch F-16s could be retasked 

from an air defence to an 

attack mission while in the air. This 

gave the combined air operations 

centre at Vicenza some extra 

leeway. 78 Since swing-role not only 

requires multi-role capable combat 

aircraft, but also versatile aircrews, 

83

84 

the RNLAF is willing to meet the 

demands of a very intensive and 

costly training programme. 79 

Not primarily a matter of size 

To draw the conclusion that 

proficiency in the application of 

air power is primarily a matter of 

size or that size is proportional 

to effectiveness is wrong. In fact, 

size has not so much mattered in 

generating European air power. 

For operation Allied Force, the 

German contingent contained ten 

dedicated SEAD Tornados and four 

reconnaissance Tornados. 80 They 

accounted for approximately 1.4 

per cent of the allied aircraft fleet, 

which in the course of the 

campaign was increased to slightly 

more than 1,000 assets. 81 Yet the 

small German Tornado contingent 

released a significant number 

of high-speed, anti-radiation 

missiles, 236 out of a total of 743 

expended throughout the entire 

campaign, 82 which corresponded to 

approximately a third. 

Likewise, the Dutch detachment 

consisting of a total of 20 F-16s and 

two KDC-10 tanker aircraft proved 

very efficient. Throughout operation 

Allied Force, Dutch F-16s flew 700 

air-to-air, approximately 450 airto-ground 

and 50 reconnaissance 

sorties over Yugoslavia. The RNLAF 

delivered more than 850 air-toground 

weapons, including 246 

laser-guided bombs and 32 Maverick 

missiles. Given these figures, the 

RNLAF played a substantial role 

in operation Allied Force and 

provided, according to Dutch sources, 

approximately 7.5 per cent of the 

offensive NATO sorties. 83 To put 

the number of expended precision- 

guided munitions into context, the 

RNLAF accounted for approximately 

3.5 per cent of the total number 

employed during the campaign and 

released slightly more than the RAF, 

which employed 244 laser-guided 

bombs and six ALARM anti-radiation 

missiles. 84 Accordingly, the RNLAF 

lived up to its motto Parvus Numero 

Magnus Merito. 

Command and control 

In general, a shift from a particular 

emphasis upon airframes to a 

balanced approach, giving more 

consideration to air power software, 

has taken place. In fact, air power 

software gained unprecedented 

importance at the outset of the 

post-Cold War era. In the wake of 

operation Desert Storm, Martin 

van Creveld argued: ‘No other 

country possesses the hardware, 

much less the ‘software’, needed 

for mounting an air campaign 

that will even remotely compare 

with US capabilities in this field.’ 85 

Yet in the meantime, the RAF, the 

French Air Force, and the German 

Air Force have been building up 

computerised command and control 

systems, essential for the conduct of 

autonomous European air operations. 

The SCCOA system (système de 

commandement et de conduite des 

opérations aériennes) has become of 

pivotal importance in France’s thrust 

towards enhanced and interoperable 

conventional forces. The deployable 

component of SCCOA can support a 

combined Joint Force Air Component 

Command (JFACC) Headquarters 

in deployed operations. 86 Enhanced 

interoperability on a technical 

level has enabled the French Air 

Force to take on a lead role on the 

international scene. As such, the

French Air Force was in charge of the 

NATO Response Force (NRF) JFACC 

during the second half of 2005. 

Despite France’s non-integration 

into NATO’s integrated military 

command structure, the French Air 

Force was the first European air force 

to provide such a capability on a 

national basis to the NRF. 87 

The German Air Force has also made 

significant steps in improving its 

command and control capabilities. 

During the Cold War era, the 

German Air Force had no means at 

its disposal to conduct air combat 

operations above the wing level 

and fully hinged upon NATO 

command and control structures. 

In the post-Cold War era, with an 

increasing German commitment to 

out-of-area operations, a national 

capacity for the planning, conduct, 

and command of air combat 

operations became necessary. In 

late 2001, the German Air Force 

established its Air Operations 

Command – Kommando Operative 

Führung Luftstreitkräfte. For the first 

time in its history, the German Air 

Force received an autonomous 

capacity for tactical and operational 

planning of air operations. The Air 

Operations Command was primarily 

designed as a national nucleus for 

a multinational Air Component 

Command Headquarters against 

the backdrop of NATO or EU 

operations. 88 As such, the Air 

Operations Command will enable 

Germany to act as the lead nation 

AIR in multinational operations. 89 

EU operations 

European countries do not have 

to be capable of autonomously 

dealing with major contingencies, 

such as a future conflict involving 

China. In these circumstances, it 

is ‘inconceivable that European 

governments would act 

independently of the US.’ 90 However, 

the EU needs to be capable of 

autonomously undertaking peace 

support operations across the 

spectrum of military force, with a 

particular focus upon battle group 

sized early-entry operations in failed 

states. After severe disagreements 

over Iraq in early 2003, it is, for 

instance, difficult to imagine that 

the EU could have drawn easily 

upon NATO resources – meaning 

American assets – for operation 

Artemis in mid-2003. 

Rapid intervention operations 

in failed states require solid 

strategic airlift, ISTAR (intelligence, 

surveillance, target-acquisition, 

and reconnaissance), and close 

air support capabilities, the latter 

providing escalation dominance. 

While a NATO C-17 airlift fleet might 

prove very useful in these scenarios, 

it will finally always require US 

consent – a right the Americans have 

put a premium upon in order to 

secure their influence upon European 

security. 91 In contrast, co-operative 

arrangements that can be made 

equally available to NATO and EU 

operations, such as the European Air 

Transport Command, offer assured 

availability for European operations. 

In the field of satellite reconnaissance 

and surveillance, both France and 

Germany have taken significant 

steps in recent years. Next to the 

French-led Helios II project, Germany 

launched the first of five SAR-Lupe 

(Synthetic Aperture Radar) satellites 

in late 2006. It is planned to secure 

satellite data exchange between 

Germany and France. 92 Once a robust 

85

86 

number of A400M aircraft has been 

delivered to European air forces, 

combined with various European 

satellite programmes and other 

ISTAR assets, rapid intervention 

operations on behalf of the UN 

should no longer represent a major 

challenge for Europe in terms of 

military capabilities. 

Concluding thoughts 

The rapid deployment and the 

sustained presence of European air 

power detachments in Afghanistan 

and elsewhere show that Europe 

can make relevant contributions to 

current operations. In this process, 

European co-operation is key to 

creating relevant air power. By 

overcoming fragmented approaches 

to air power, it draws upon the 

synergies of the various air forces. 

In accordance with this, the article 

concludes by highlighting four 

potential guiding principles for 

the future development of European 

air power. 

According to the principle ‘primacy 

of politics’, co-operative ventures 

and supra-national pooling of assets 

have to take into account the political 

dimension. Today’s operations are 

primarily conducted by NATO, 

the EU, or ad hoc coalitions. As 

established above, NATO and the 

EU’s Security and Defence Policy 

(ESDP) complement each other. 

While NATO guarantees a strong 

transatlantic link and provides 

for collective defence, the ESDP 

is particularly suited for rapid 

interventions in the framework 

of humanitarian operations. 

Accordingly, a natural division of 

labour between the two organisations 

is shaping up. Hence, in order to 

guarantee political freedom of action, 

co-operative ventures should be 

equally available to both NATO and 

the ESDP. This flexibility is important 

in a politically fragile environment, 

when it comes to the projection of 

military power. 

Secondly, if we mean serious 

European co-operation, we have 

to go beyond the pooling of assets 

to role specialisation – not only a 

challenge, but also an opportunity for 

the smaller European air forces. Role 

specialisation would help to address 

the imbalance between offensive 

air power and force enablers. While 

there are disadvantages regarding 

national discretion, role specialisation 

could offer small nations significant 

leverage within a coalition or alliance, 

by providing a sought after-niche 

capability. European air power suffers 

from significant shortages in the force 

enabling areas, including deployable 

air base infrastructure or air-to-air 

refuelling assets. 

Co-operation among the larger 

European air forces, which maintain 

balanced force structures, is also 

gaining in importance. The Royal 

Air Force, the French Air Force, and 

the German Air Force together – or 

any of these two combined – are 

likely to cover a significant range 

of aerospace power capabilities in 

the medium-term. These include 

airborne early warning, wide area 

air-to-ground surveillance, standoff 

jamming, suppression of enemy 

air defences, theatre ballistic 

missile defence, high-altitude longendurance 

unmanned aerial vehicles, 

deployable air operations centres, 

combat search and rescue, air-toair 

refuelling, strategic airlift, and 

deployable air bases. This core of

capabilities will be coherent and will 

allow smaller European air forces 

to plug in and play. By providing 

niche capabilities, they can reinforce 

existing capabilities of these larger 

air forces and thereby contribute to 

more robust and sustainable force 

packages. While it makes sense for 

larger European nations to retain 

balanced force structures, smaller 

nations should give thought to partial 

role specialisation. Role specialisation 

should not happen by default, as is 

currently the case owing to limited 

resources, but as a result of a 

deliberate and focused policy. 

While it cannot be expected that 

all alliance partners, be it in the 

framework of NATO or the ESDP, 

will contribute to a particular 

operation, it is realistic to assume 

that any two of the larger European 

air forces combined with a number 

of smaller air forces will commit 

themselves. If defence resources 

are appropriately spent, such a 

combination of air forces is likely to 

cover a balanced range of capabilities 

in order to conduct effective and 

sustained air operations. 

Thirdly, effective European air power 

is not primarily a matter of size and 

resources – it is rather a question of 

balanced, interoperable, and usable 

capabilities. Moreover, it is a question 

of political will. Are countries willing 

to make a meaningful contribution? 

Likewise, it is a question of an 

air force’s qualities regarding 

professionalism, training, education, 

and attitude. 

Finally, are we conceptually 

embracing certain distinct European 

characteristics? European air power 

is likely to operate in very fragile 

political environments. Popular 

support for air campaigns that might 

seem too offensive is likely to remain 

brittle. Hence, gradualist approaches 

might often be the only options. 

Do European doctrines reflect those 

political realities, in order to meet 

genuine European interests? ‘No 

major proposal required for war’, 

Clausewitz accurately proclaimed, 

‘can be worked out in ignorance 

of political factors; and when 

people talk, as they often do, about 

harmful political influence on the 

management of war, they are not 

really saying what they mean.’ 93 

Air power is and will remain a 

tool of politics. 

Notes 

1 Tony Mason, Air Power: A Centennial 

Appraisal, rev. ed. (London, Brassey’s, 

2002), 236-238. 

2 Hearing of the Senate Committee on 

Armed Services, ‘Lessons Learned from 

Military Operations and Relief Efforts in 

Kosovo’ (Washington D.C., 21 October 

1999). 

3 Carl von Clausewitz, On War, Book I, 

Chapter 1, Paragraph 24. 

4 Benjamin S. Lambeth, The 

Transformation of American Air Power 

(Ithaca/London, Cornell University Press, 

2000), 178. 

5 Robert C. Owen, ‘Summary’ in Robert 

C. Owen (Ed.), Deliberate Force – A Case 

Study in Effective Air Campaigning: Final 

Report of the Air University Balkans Air 

Campaign Study (Maxwell, Air University 

Press, January 2000), 461. 

6 Mason, Air Power, 173. 

7 Lambeth, American Air Power, 178. 

8 Owen, ‘Summary’, 483-484. 

9 John A. Tirpak, ‘Deliberate Force’, Air 

Force – Journal of the Air Force Association, 

Vol. 80, No. 10 (October 1997) in online 

copy at http://www.afa.org, accessed 27 

October 2004. 

10 Owen, ‘Summary’, pp. 493-494. 

87

88 

11 Ibid., 491, 502. 

12 Lambeth, American Air Power, 176. 

13 Richard L. Sargent, ‘Aircraft used in 

Deliberate Force’ in Robert C. Owen 

(Ed.), Deliberate Force – A Case Study in 

Effective Air Campaigning: Final Report of 

the Air University Balkans Air Campaign 

Study (Maxwell, Air University Press, 

January 2000), 199. 

14 Ibid., 204, 220-222. 

15 Richard L. Sargent, ‘Deliberate Force 

Combat Air Assessments’ in Robert C. Owen 

(Ed.), Deliberate Force – A Case Study in 

Effective Air Campaigning: Final Report of 

the Air University Balkans Air Campaign 

Study (Maxwell, Air University Press, 

January 2000), 332. 

16 John Stone, ‘Air-Power, Land-Power 

and the Challenge of Ethnic Conflict’, 

Civil Wars, Vol. 2., No. 3 (Autumn 1999), 

29-30. 

17 André Soubirou, ‘The Account 

of Lieutenant General (Ret) André 

Soubirou, Former Commanding General 

of the RRF Multinational Brigade in 

Bosnia from July to October 1995’, 

Doctrine Special Issue (February 2007), 

24-28, in online copy at http://www. 

cdef.terre.defense.gouv.fr, accessed 22 

November 2007. 

18 Benjamin S. Lambeth, NATO’s Air 

War for Kosovo: A Strategic and Operational 

Assessment (Santa Monica, RAND, 

2001), xiii. 

19 Ivo H. Daalder and Michael E. 

O’Hanlon, Winning Ugly: NATO’s War to 

save Kosovo (Washington D.C., Brookings 

Institution Press, 2000), 5, 184, 199- 

200; Lambeth, NATO’s Air War, 67-86; 

Benjamin S. Lambeth, ‘Operation Allied 

Force: A Strategic Appraisal’, in John 

Andreas Olsen (Ed.), A Second Aerospace 

Century: Choices for the Smaller Nations 

(Trondheim, The Royal Norwegian Air 

Force Academy, 2001), 103-109. 

20 Anthony H. Cordesman, The Lessons 

and Non-Lessons of the Air and Missile 

War in Kosovo, rev. ed. (Washington D.C., 

Center for Strategic and International 

Studies CSIS, 20 July 1999), 4-5. 

21 See: Tony Mason, ‘Rethinking the 

Conceptual Framework’, in Peter W. Gray 

(Ed.), Air Power 21: Challenges for the New 

Century (London, The Stationery Office, 

2000), 217. 

22 Wesley K. Clark, Waging Modern War 

(Oxford, PublicAffairs, 2001), 197-198. 

23 Walter Jertz, ‘Einsätze der Luftwaffe 

über Bosnien’, in Peter Goebel (Ed.), Von 

Kambodscha bis Kosovo: Auslandeinsätze 

der Bundeswehr (Frankfurt am Main/ 

Bonn, Report Verlag, 2000), 140. 

24 Franz-Josef Meiers, Zu neuen 

Ufern? Die deutsche Sicherheits- und 

Verteidigungspolitik in einer Welt 

des Wandels 1990-2000 (Paderborn, 

Ferdinand Schöningh, 2006), 283-284. 

25 B. H. Liddell Hart, Strategy, 2nd rev. 

ed. (First Meridian Printing, 1991 – 

Copyright: London, Faber & Faber, 1954, 

1967) 353. 

26 Gen. Patrice Klein, ‘Bilan et 

enseignements des opérations Héraclès 

et Ammonite’ in Pierre Pascallon (Ed.), 

L’Armée de l’Air: Les armées françaises à 

l’aube du XXIe siècle (Paris, L’Harmattan, 

2003), 203-204; Benjamin S. Lambeth, 

American Carrier Air Power at the Dawn 

of a New Century (Santa Monica, RAND, 

2005), 17, 19. 

27 Frédéric Castel, ‘Sept mois de 

coopération exemplaire entre la France 

et les États-Unis’, Air Actualités, No. 556 

(November 2002), 30-32. 

28 Eugénie Baldes, ‘Les Mirages français 

passent le relais’, Air Actualités, No. 556 

(November 2002), 34-35; Ministère de la 

Défense, Defence against Terrorism: a Top- 

Priority of the Ministry of Defence (Paris, 

DICoD, April 2006), 24. 

29 Pierre Tran, ‘Rafale F2 makes its 

Combat Debut over Afghanistan’, 

Defense News (2007), in online copy at 

http://www.defensenews.com, accessed 

14 August 2007. 

30 Une Défense Nouvelle 1997-2015, Armées

d’aujourd’hui, No. 208 hors série (Paris, 

Service d’informations et de relations 

publiques des armées, March 1996). 

31 Castel, ‘Sept mois de coopération’, 30. 

32 Latest News of the Ministry of Defence, 

News Summaries July-September 2002, 

26 September 2002, http://www.defensie. 

nl, accessed 14 June 2004; Baldes, ‘Les 

Mirages français passent le relais’, 34-36. 

33 Latest News of the Ministry of Defence, 

Current News Summaries, 6 October 

2003, http://www.defensie.nl, accessed 

14 June 2004. 

34 Interview, Headquarters Royal 

Netherlands Air Force, The Hague, 23 

June 2004. 

35 Memorandum of Understanding 

concerning the Establishment of the 

European Participating Air Forces’ 

Expeditionary Air Wing (Istanbul, 28 

June 2004). 

36 Mark A. Lorell, ‘Lessons from the 

French Experience in Low Intensity 

Conflicts’ in Andrew Vallance (Ed.), 

Air Power: Collected Essays on Doctrine 

(London, HMSO, 1990), 75-76. 

37 Admiral Jacques Lanxade, ‘L’opération 

Turqoise’, Défense nationale (February 

1995), 9-11. 

38 United Nations, Peacekeeping Best 

Practices Unit, Military Division, 

Operation Artemis: The Lessons of the 

Interim Emergency Multinational Force 

(UN, October 2004), 3-4, in online copy 

at http://pbpu.unlb.org, accessed 26 

November 2005; Marc Joulaud, Avis 

présenté au nom de la commission de la 

défense nationale et des forces armées, 

sur le projet de loi de finances rectificative 

pour 2003, No. 1267 (Paris, Assemblée 

Nationale, 2003), 20, in online copy at 

http://www.assemblee-nationale.fr, 21 

July 2006. 

39 United Nations, Operation Artemis, 12. 

40 Gerrard Quille, ‘Battle Groups 

to strengthen EU Military Crisis 

Management?’, European Security Review, 

No. 22 (ISIS Europe, April 2003), in online 

copy at http://www.forum-europe.com, 

accessed 24 July 2006. 

41 Annual Exchange of Information on 

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1999 (Stockholm, The Kingdom of 

Sweden, March 2005), 9; Jan Joel 

Andersson, Armed and Ready? The 

EU Battlegroup Concept and the Nordic 

Battlegroup, Report, No. 2 (Stockholm, 

Swedish Institute for European Policy 

Studies, March 2006), 39. 

42 Jan Jorgensen, ‘Battle Group Gripens’, 

Air Forces Monthly (August 2007), 42-46. 

43 NATO Handbook (Brussels, NATO 

Office of Information and Press, 2001), 

47-48. 

44 NATO, Declaration of the Heads of 

State and Government, Press Communiqué 

M-1(94)3 Meeting of the North Atlantic 

Council (Brussels, NATO Headquarters, 

11 January 1994), § 4-6, in online copy 

at http://www.nato.int, accessed 25 

February 2007. 

45 Meiers, Die deutsche Sicherheits- und 

Verteidigungspolitik, 143. 

46 Europa Glossary, http://europa.eu, 

accessed 26 February 2007. 

47 Jean-Yves Haine, ESDP: An Overview 

(Paris, European Union Institute for 

Security Studies ISS), in online copy at 

http://www.iss-eu.org, accessed 14 May 

2005. 

48 Saint-Malo Declaration (December 

1998), paragraph 2. 



50 Chirstophe Taesch at the conference 

Europe, NATO and Air Power (Ramstein 

Air Base, 7 October 2008). 

51 David Gates, ‘Air Power: The 

Instrument of Choice?’, in Peter W. Gray 

(Ed.), Air Power 21: Challenges for the New 

Century (London, The Stationery Office, 

2000), 26. 

52 John E. Peters, Stuart E. Johnson, 

Nora Bensahel, Timothy Liston, and 

Traci Williams, European Contributions 

to Operation Allied Force: Implications for 

89

90 

Transatlantic Cooperation (Santa Monica, 

RAND, 2001), 52. 

53 Lambeth, NATO’s Air War for Kosovo, 

33, 66. 

54 Cordesman, The Lessons and Non- 

Lessons, 4-5. 

55 Timothy Garden, ‘European Air Power’, 

in Peter W. Gray (Ed.), Air Power 21: 

Challenges for the New Century (London, 

The Stationery Office, 2000), 144. 

56 Peters et al., European Contributions, 

20-24. 

57 Hans-Christian Hagman, European 

Crisis Management and Defence: The Search 

for Capabilities, Adelphi Paper, No. 353 

(Oxford, Oxford University Press for IISS, 

2002), 22. 

58 ‘Sixth C-17 swoops into Britain’, 

Defence News (3 July 2008), online copy 

at http://www.mod.uk, accessed 24 


59 ‘NRF: The French Air Force in 

Control’, Air Actualités, No. 583 (July/ 

August 2005), 43. 

60 Michael J. Gething and Bill Sweetman, 

‘Air-to-air refuelling provides a force 

multiplier for expeditionary warfare’, 

Jane’s International Defence Review, Vol./ 

No. 39 (February 2006), 45. 

61 Défense Nationale (Paris, La 

Documentation française, June 2008) 

228; ‘A330-200 Future Strategic Tanker 

Aircraft (FSTA) – Multi-Role Tanker 

Transporter (MRTT), Europe’, Airforce 

Technology, online copy at www.airforcetechnology.com, 

accessed 2 January 2009. 

62 Loi de programmation militaire 2003-2008 

– la politique de défense (Paris, Journaux 

officiels, May 2003), 28; Lt. Gen. Walter 

Jertz, ‘Unser Schwerpunkt ist der Einsatz: 

Das Luftwaffenführungskommando auf 

dem Weg in die Zukunft’, Strategie & 

Technik (March 2006), 22. 

63 ‘Armament Air-Sol Modulaire’, Defense 

Update (updated 19/12/2006), online copy 

at http://www.defense-update.com, 

accessed 7 March 2007. 

64 Garden, ‘European Air Power’, 119. 

65 The following air forces are members 

of the European Air Group: RAF, French 

AF, Italian AF, Belgian AF, German AF, 

Netherlands AF, Spanish AF. 

66 EAG, European Airlift Centre (EAC), 

http://www.euroairgroup.org, accessed 2 

March 2007. 

67 Bundesministerium der Verteidigung, 

Verlässlicher Zugriff auf “fliegende 

Güterzüge” (Leipzig, 23 March 2006), 

http://www.bmvg.de, accessed 9 

August 2006; EU Council Secretariat, 

Development of European Military 

Capabilities: The Force Catalogue 2006 

(Brussels, November 2006), 3, online copy 

at http://www.consilium.europe.eu, 

accessed 6 February 2007. 

68 NATO, Strategic Airlift Capability: A Key 

Capability for the Alliance (last updated 27 

November 2008), www.nato.int, accessed 

2 January 2009. 

69 Interview, Ministry of Defence, Bonn, 

26 April 2006. 

70 ‘European Air Transport Command 

Agreement Signed’, Defense Industry 

Daily (25 May 2007), online copy at 

http://www.defenseindustrydaily.com, 

accessed 2 August 2007. 

71 Airbus Military, www.airbusmilitary. 

com, accessed 17 August 2007. 

72 Loi de programmation militaire 2003- 

2008, 28, 40; Interview, Ministry of 

Defence, Bonn, 27 April 2006. 

73 Lars-Ake Siggelin, ‘Electric Saabs’, Air 

Forces Monthly (October 2007), 40-41. 

74 Wim H. Lutgert and Rolf de Winter, 

Check the Horizon: De Koninklijke 

Luchtmacht en het conflict in voormalig 

Joegoslavië 1991-1995 (The Hague, Sectie 

Luchtmachthistorie van de Staf van de 

Bevelhebber der Luchtstrijdkrachten, 

2001), 511. 

75 Interview, Headquarters Royal 

Netherlands Air Force, The Hague, 22 

June 2004. 

76 Lt. Gen. Dirk Starink, Commanderin-Chief 

Royal Netherlands Air Force, 

briefing at the Shephard Air Power

Conference 2005 (London, 25-27 January 

2005). 

77 Lt. Gen. B. A. C. Droste, Commanderin-Chief 

Royal Netherlands Air Force, 

‘Decisive Air Power Private: The Role of 

the Royal Netherlands Air Force in the 

Kosovo Conflict’, NATO’s Nations and 

Partners for Peace, Issue 2 (1999), 129. 

78 Lutgert and de Winter, Check the 

Horizon, 508-510. 

79 Droste, ‘Decisive Air Power Private’, 

128-129. 

80 Hans-Werner Jarosch, Immer im Einsatz: 

50 Jahre Luftwaffe (Hamburg/Berlin/Bonn, 

E.S. Mittler & Sohn, 2005), 141. 



82 Jarosch, 50 Jahre Luftwaffe, 145; 

Lambeth, NATO’s Air War, 110. 

83 Droste, ‘Decisive Air Power Private’, 

127-128; interview, Air Historical Branch 

Royal Netherlands Air Force, The Hague, 

24 June 2004. 

84 Kosovo: Lessons from the Crisis (London, 

The Stationery Office, 2000), annex f; 

calculation of percentage is based upon 

figures from: Cordesman, The Lessons and 

Non-Lessons, 4. 

85 Martin van Creveld, Steven L. Canby, 

and Kenneth S. Brower, Air Power and 

Maneuver Warfare (Honolulu, University 

Press of the Pacific, 2002, reprinted from 

the 1994 ed.), xiv. 

86 Gen. François Bourdilleau, ‘Evolution 

de l’Armée de l’Air vers le modèle Air 

2015’ in Pierre Pascallon (Ed.), L’Armée 

de l’Air: Les Armées françaises à l’aube du 

XXIe siècle – Tome II (Paris, L’Harmattan, 

2003), 248. 

87 ‘NRF: The French Air Force in Control’, 

43. 

88 ‘Das Kommando Operative Führung 

Luftstreitkräfte’, CPM Forum - Luftwaffe 

2004 (Sankt Augustin, CPM, 2004), 56-57. 

89 Bundeswehr Luftwaffe, DasKommando 

Operative Führung Luftstreitkräfte, 

http://www.luftwaffe.de, accessed 15 

March 2007. 

90 Lawrence Freedman, ‘Can the EU 

develop an Effective Military Doctrine?’ 

in Steven Everts, Lawrence Freedman, 

Charles Grant, François Heisbourg, 

Daniel Keohane, and Michael O’Hanlon 

(Eds.), A European Way of War (London, 

Centre for European Reform, 2004), 23. 

91 Nicole Gnesotto (Chair), Jean-Yves 

Haine (Rapporteur), André Dumoulin, 

Jan Foghelin, François Heisbourg, 

William Hopkinson, Marc Otte, Tomas 

Ries, Lothar Rühl, Stefano Silvestri; 

Hans-Bernhard Weisserth, and Rob de 

Wijk, European Defence – a Proposal for a 

White Paper: Report of an Independent Task 

Force (Paris, European Union Institute for 

Security Studies ISS, May 2004), 49. 

92 Interview, Ministry of Defence, Bonn, 

27 April 2006. 

93 Carl von Clausewitz, On War, Book VIII, 

Chapter 6B. 

91

92 

Air Power and the Russian- 

Georgian conflict of 2008: 

lessons learned and 

Russian military reforms 

By Stéphane Lefebvre and Roger McDermott 

Russia’s short war with Georgia, in August 2008, resulted in a rapid military 

victory, which surprised many observers and experts. Russia’s use of airpower 

proved a significant factor in achieving its operational goals in what the 

Russian government described as its ‘peace enforcement operation,’ including 

driving Georgia’s armed forces from South Ossetia and simultaneously 

securing Abkhazia. Nevertheless, within only two months Russia had 

elaborated a far reaching and ambitious military reform and modernization 

agenda partly reflecting its ‘lessons learned’ from the campaign in the South 

Caucasus. The authors examine Russian airpower in the Georgia war in 

the context of reform plans that also have implications for Russia’s future 

use of airpower in conflict. It highlights some of the operational failings of 

Russian airpower, what air force commanders identified as the most pressing 

priorities in enhancing air capabilities, and questions some of the underlying 

assumptions in this reform process.

The August 2008 military conflict 

between Russia and Georgia 

over Georgia’s breakaway 

republics of South Ossetia and 

Abkhazia marked Russia’s first largescale 

military operation outside its 

boundaries since the dissolution of 

the Soviet Union in December 1991. 

The operation involved the 

deployment and effective use of 

naval, land and air assets, each 

playing an important role in Russia’s 

resounding defeat of the Georgian 

military. Air power, by crushing 

Georgian air assets and installations 

and other key targets, assured Russia 

control of the land battle. This article 

discusses the use of air power by 

Russia, the lessons it has learned 

from its conflict with Georgia, and 

the way ahead for Russian military 

reform as it impacts on the air force. 

The use of air power prior to 

August 2008 

Russia’s alleged first use of air power 

against Georgia dates back to 1992, 

when the conflict between Georgia 

and its breakaway republic of 

Abkhazia erupted. While the use 

of air power was negligible and 

indecisive throughout the 13-month 

conflict, the few Su-25 and Su-27 

combat aircraft which flew caused a 

stir because they were believed, by 

Georgia, to belong to the Russian 

Air Force (Voyenno-Vozdushnyye Sily 

– VVS) or at least to be piloted by 

Russian pilots. Abkhazia’s Gudauta 

air base was then assumed to be 

under the control of Russia, just 

as it was assumed in August 2008 

despite a Conventional Treaty in 

Europe (CFE) commitment to have it 

closed by 2001. 1 On 19 August 1993, a 

Georgian SA-2 surface-to-air missile 

brought down a Russian Su-27 fighter 

aircraft near Gudauta. 2 

After the cease-fires in South Ossetia 

and Abkhazia of the early 1990s, and 

the deployment of Commonwealth 

of Independent States (CIS) 

Collective Peacekeeping Forces 

(mainly Russian) in the Georgian- 

Abkhaz conflict zone, and Russian, 

Georgian and Ossetian Joint 

Peacekeeping Forces in South 

Ossetia, sporadic skirmishes and 

incidents continued, but few of 

them involved the use of air power. 

Between 1999 and 2004, however, 

the Organization for Security and 

Cooperation in Europe (OSCE) 

observed and corroborated a 

number of Russian aerial incursions 

over Georgia’s territory. In September 

2002, Russia even took the step of 

reinforcing its fleet of fighter aircraft 

and bombers in the North Caucasus 

Military District base of Mozdok as 

a brief show of force and a threat of 

intervention against Chechens in 

Georgia’s then uncontrolled Pankisi 

Gorge region. 3 Equally controversial 

and alarming, in August 2007 a 

Russian aircraft was believed to have 

dropped an air-to-surface anti-radar 

missile from an Su-24 ground-attack 

93

94 

aircraft, which the United States 

believed was targeted at a Georgian 

radar station. Russia disagreed with 

this interpretation, noting a lack of 

evidence. 4 

2008 proved to be a turning point in 

the use of air power. Russia, certainly 

dissatisfi ed with the prospects of 

Georgia one day joining NATO, 

independence being granted to 

Kosovo, and an increased level of 

Georgian bellicosity toward Russia, 

used air power in a manner that led 

to a build up of tension between 

Georgia and Russia. Georgia, intent 

on regaining its full and complete 

sovereignty and control over its two 

breakaway republics, also increased 

its military pressure on Abkhaz 

and South Ossetian military and 

paramilitary forces through the use 

of air power. Aerial incursions, for 

example, were reported by both 

sides. On 5 April, two Georgian 

Su-25 ground-attack aircraft, 

observed by the United Nations 

Observer Mission in Georgia 

(UNIMOG), fl ew over the Abkhazcontrolled 

zone. Local Abkhaz 

observers reported other aircraft 

sightings to UNIMOG on 13, 16 

and 20 April, and 17 May. On 8 July, 

four Russian fi ghter aircraft briefl y 

overfl ew South Ossetia in an effort, 

the Russian Foreign Affairs Ministry 

stated, to “cool heads in Tbilisi and 

to prevent a military scenario from 

unfolding.” Prior to the overfl ight, 

Georgian President Mikheil 

Saakashvili had issued an ultimatum 

to Russia asking for its release of 

four Georgian soldiers of the Joint 

Peacekeeping Forces, to which Russia 

acquiesced. Georgia interpreted 

the overfl ight, which coincided with 

a visit to Tbilisi by U.S. Secretary 

of State Condoleezza Rice, as a 

violation of its territorial integrity, 

and recalled its ambassador to 

Russia for consultations. 5 The United 

States agreed with Georgia, calling 

Russia’s action a threat “to stability 

throughout the entire region.” 6 

Georgian unmanned aerial vehicles 

(UAVs) conducting reconnaissance 

missions over the confl ict zones, 

Abkhazia or South Ossetia were 

also a serious point of contention 

between Georgia, Russia and local 

separatist authorities. Between 

August 2007 and June 2008, the local 

Abkhaz authorities reported several 

instances of UAVs fl ying over the 

territory under their effective control, 

and claimed to have shot down up 

to seven Georgian UAVs. UNIMOG 

confi rmed that, in 2008, Georgia fl ew 

UAVs on 18 March, 20 April, 4, 8 and 

12 May, and that three of the UAVs 

– Israeli-made Hermes 450, were 

shot down, the second one either 

by a Russian MiG-29 or an Su-27 

aircraft using a Vympel R-73 air-toair 

missile on 20 April. The Georgian 

reconnaissance missions and the 

Abkhaz and Russian air defence 

actions were both considered by the 

United Nations to be violations of the

ceasefi re regime in place. 7 

Adding to the tension build up, 

in July Russia carried out exercise 

Caucasus 2008, which featured 

Russian land, sea and air forces 

counterattacking unnamed forces that 

had attacked Abkhazia and South 

Ossetia, a very useful rehearsal for 

what was to follow if there ever was 

one. As a matter of course, Georgia 

thought the scenario provocative 

and threatening. 8 On 6 August, six 

of Georgia’s military aircraft (Su-25s 

and perhaps a couple of L-39 Albatros 

jet trainers) fl ew a reconnaissance 

mission over South Ossetia, which 

was seen by the de facto South 

Ossetian leadership as a prelude to 

a Georgian military offensive against 

the breakaway region. 9 

The use of air power during the 

fi ve-day confl ict 

From 8 to 12 August, the Russian 

air force carried out a few hundred 

offensive sorties over Georgia 

(including both breakaway republics) 

using mainly three types of aircraft: 

Su-24M frontal bombers, Su-25 

ground-attack aircraft, and Tu-22M3 

long-range bombers. Targets were 

carefully selected to avoid 

unnecessary damage to Georgia’s 

critical infrastructure, transport, 

communications and civilian 

industry; 10 however, collateral 

damage and civilian casualties were 

caused by aerial bombing. Georgia, 

which was fi rst to use air power, was 

severely limited in what it could do 

due to the small size of its air force 

and the overwhelming superiority, 

in comparative terms, of the 

Russian air force. 

Georgia’s Su-25s (not much more 

than a handful) bombed the South 

Ossetian capital of Tskhinvali at 

the very beginning of hostilities. At 

0800 on 8 August, they bombed the 

Russian peacekeeping force building 

in Yuzni, close to Tbilisi, 

where they reportedly 

killed up to 15 Russian 

servicemen. At around 

1230, they hit Dzhava, 

a small South Ossetian 

village where notable 

South Ossetian offi cials 

were believed to be. The 

following day, at around 

1330, they attempted to 

bomb the strategically 

important Roki tunnel, 

which links Georgia (South 

Ossetia) to Russia (North 

Ossetia), but failed and 

lost a second Su-25 since the confl ict 

started. They tried to hit the Roki 

tunnel again on the 11th, but without 

any success and this resulted in 

the loss of an additional Su-25. 

These, incidentally, were the major 

aerial engagements of the Georgian 

air force throughout the fi ve-day 

confl ict. 11 As Mark Geleotti later 

observed, “Russia’s rapid assertion of 

complete air superiority prevented 

95

96 

manned reconnaissance flights and 

also constrained [Georgia’s] use of 

drones.” 12 Russia, however, did not 

achieve air dominance, as its losses (it 

officially admitted to the loss of four 

military aircraft, whereas Georgia 

claims to have shot down ten or 

more) adequately attest. 13 

In the absence of any interceptor 

aircraft, Georgia was heavily 

dependent on its air defence forces 

to prevent the Russian air force 

from achieving air dominance. Thus, 

air defence had been Georgia’s 

major preoccupation since 1999, 

when Russian aerial incursions 

really picked up. 14 In 2003, it started 

acquiring new air defence systems 

and modernizing its current 

capabilities. Ukraine was the key 

provider on both fronts, providing 

Georgia with at least one Kolchuga- 

M passive electronic monitoring 

radar system, new mobile 3-D air 

surveillance 36D6-M radars (which 

Georgia deployed in Tbilisi and 

Savshevebi, near Gori), upgraded 

four P-18 Spoon Rest air surveillance 

radars to the 2-D P-180U version 

(which Georgia deployed in 

Alekseyevka, near Tbilisi, Marneuli, 

Poti, and Batumi), and SA-8 mobile 

surface-to-air missile (SAM) systems 

to supplement its ageing Soviet-era 

systems. Ukraine also modernized 

Georgia’s SA-3 surface-to-air 

missiles that were deployed in Tbilisi, 

Poti and elsewhere, and later sold 

Georgia sufficient Buk-M1 (SA-11) 

low- to high-altitude self-propelled 

SAM systems – along with 48 9М38М1 

missiles – to equip a battalion of 

three batteries, each with two selfpropelled 

launcher mounts and one 

self-propelled loader-launcher. The 

SA-11s, along with Osa-AK (SA- 

8B) low-altitude SAM systems and 

associated launchers (two batteries’ 

worth) also acquired from Ukraine, 

were positioned by the Georgian air 

force in Gori, Senaki, and Kutaisi. 

Georgia’s 2006 setting up in Tbilisi 

of an Air Sovereignty Operations 

Centre linking its Kolchuga-M and 

four civilian air-traffic-control radar 

networks into a single early warning 

and command and control tactical 

system was greatly facilitated by 

Ukraine’s Aerotekhnika company. 

At the start of the conflict, Georgia 

also had in its inventory a variety of 

short-range systems in the forms of 

shoulder-fired missiles (e.g., SA-16) 

and anti-aircraft guns (e.g., ZU-23- 

2M and ZSU-23-4 23mm guns), and 

a few systems believed by Russia to 

have been provided by Israel (the 

Spyder-SR short-range self-propelled 

SAM system) and Turkey (Skywatcher 

army air-defence early-warning 

and command and control tactical 

system). Taken together, Georgia’s 

effort at developing an effective air 

defence system were taken seriously 

by Russia and Georgia’s air defence 

assets were targeted accordingly 

throughout the conflict. During the 

conflict itself, in the absence of full

spectrum air defences Georgian 

personnel may have been switching 

off radars, to avoid detection by 

Russian aircraft, replicating a tactic 

first seen in the Balkans in the 

1990s. As Said Aminov aptly noted, 

however, in Moscow Defense Brief 

after the conflict, ‘the air-defence 

system of Georgian attack groups 

was about the equivalent of a best 

frontline Soviet divisions during the 

late 1980s - early 1990s.’ 15 

Russian air missions started on the 

morning of 8 August, and involved 

units of the 4th Army of Air Forces 

and Air Defence, including the 559th 

Bomber Aviation (Su-24-equipped), 

959th Bomber Aviation (Su-24), 

368th Assault Aviation (Su-25), 461st 

Assault Aviation (Su-25), 960th 

Assault Aviation (Su-25), as well as 

3rd Fighter Aviation (Su-27), 19th 

Fighter Aviation (MiG-29) and 31st 

Fighter Aviation (MiG-29) regiments. 

The 55th (Mi-8, Mi-24) and 487th 

(Mi-8, Mi-24) Helicopter Regiments 

also took part in operations. 16 At 0945, 

Russian aircraft dropped five guided 

bombs on a Georgian military radar 

near Shavshebi, north west of Gori 

(which it attacked again on the 10th 

at 1145, and the 11th at 0030), and at 

1057 three more guided bombs on 

Georgian military-related facilities, 

again not far from Gori. At around 

1030, Su-24M tactical bombers struck 

at Georgian ground troops to prevent 

them from reaching and blocking 

the Roki tunnel linking Russia to 

Georgia’s South Ossetia breakaway 

region. 17 Russian aircraft also targeted 

airfields used by the Georgian air 

force. On the 8th, they hit Vaziana at 

1515, 1700 and yet again at 1730, and 

Marneuli and Bolnisi, near Tbilisi, at 

1630, resulting in the destruction of 

three Georgian An-2 light transport 

aircraft and two L-39 Albatros jet 

trainers. On the 9th at 1022, they 

hit Gori, where several helicopters 

were destroyed, five individuals 

killed and 26 injured, and, between 

1630 and 1730, Marneuli and Bolsini 

again. Military-related installations 

in Gori were hit on the 10th at 1000, 

and so was Vaziani at 0500, where 

nine individuals lost their lives, and 

military installations at Gardabani. 

That day at 0545, and again at 1910, 

the JSC Tbilaviamsherni aircraft final 

assembly plant (for the Su-25) in 

Tbilisi was hit by three aerial bombs. 18 

On the 9th at 0012 and 0100, aerial 

bombings were reported in Poti on 

the Black Sea coast, causing damage 

to several naval platforms. The Vaziani 

(at 0020) and Senaki (at 0017) bases 

were hit too, causing the death of 

six individuals and injuries to 30 

others in the attack against the latter. 

Gatchiani, located near the Baku- 

Tbilisi-Ceyhan pipeline, was hit as 

well by Russian aircraft. The following 

day, the Russian air force revisited 

Gori, Poti and Senaki with more 

aerial bombings. 19 Early on the 

morning of the 11th, Russian aircraft 

hit several targets, including several 

deep inside Georgian territory. At 

0305 and 0430, they hit several targets 

in Batumi, on the Black Sea coast, 

including Georgia’s air command 

centre, and at 0312 the Georgian 

military base at Khelvachauri, near 

the Turkish border. Air attacks were 

also conducted against a civilian 

radar near Leninisi at 0437, the 

Shiraki base at 0500, Georgian tanks 

in Gori at 0610, the Senaki base at 

0715, and the radar at Tbilisi airport 

and military targets in Gori, the 

Kodori Gorge and Poti from 0955 on. 

On 12 August, the last day of open 

engagements, only Ruisi, a village 

97

98 

to the north west of Gori where 

Georgian troops were located, was 

being targeted by Russian aircraft. 20 

In the final phase of combat 

operations in South Ossetia, the 

Russian air force supported ground 

forces who made effective use of 

the Uragan MLRS and the Tochka- 

U missiles and also, possibly, 

the Smerch MLRS for attacks on 

Georgian positions in South Ossetia. 

This operational synergy inflicted 

sufficient losses on the Georgian 

troops to bring about their rapid 

“demoralization and retreat.” 21 

Russia’s General Staff commended 

the 76 th Pskov airborne personnel 

operating in South Ossetia, and are 

consequently promoting the further 

strengthening of air assault battalions 

and considering giving the airborne 

troops their own aviation. 22 In fact, 

to fully equip, transport, and coordinate 

the deployment and 

integration of these troops into 

combat operations alongside the 

58th Army units represented a 

demonstration of not only longrange 

airlift capability involving over 

100 airlift sorties, it also revealed 

improved command and staff 

arrangements, which had often 

challenged Russia’s armed forces 

during the conflicts of the 1990s. 23 

In Abkhazia, where Russia 

unexpectedly opened a second front, 

air power played a much smaller 

role, specifically in the capture of the 

Georgian-controlled Kodori Gorge 

by Abkhazian and Russian forces. 

On the early afternoon of 9 August, 

Russian aircraft provided support to 

the Abkhaz forces making their way 

to the Kodori Gorge; they bombed 

Georgian positions in two villages, 

Sakeni and Bas-Kvaptchana, in the 

Upper Kodori Valley. 24 On the 10th, at 

0740 and 0845, the Russian Air Force 

reportedly hit a Georgian signals unit 

in the village of Urta, and several 

targets in the Zugdidi district. 25 The 

Kodori Gorge itself was bombed on 

the 10th and 11th as well. 26 

In the judgment of the International 

Crisis Group, Russia’s bombing 

activities, which caused the 

collateral deaths of innocent 

civilians, ‘went well beyond the 

necessary minimum.’ 27 One obvious 

problem was Russia’s use of cluster 

munitions. 28 A non-signatory of 

the recently adopted Convention 

on Cluster Munitions, Russia 

did not refrain from using such 

munitions against Georgia; so did 

Georgia, also a non-signatory. While 

Georgia acknowledged using Israeli 

bomblets, Russia denied using cluster 

munitions of any kind. Human 

Rights Watch investigators, however, 

found several Russian air-launched 

AO-2.5 RTM bomblets in Georgian 

villages. 29 To add further credibility 

to Human Rights Watch’s findings, 

the Netherlands Ministry of Foreign 

Affairs officially reported that Gori 

had been targeted by at least two SS- 

26 Iskander tactical ballistic missiles, 

each armed with a cluster warhead 

containing ten sub-munitions. 30 

Damage caused by the conflict in 

Georgia is estimated to exceed 

US$1 billion. Georgia lost control 

over the Upper Kodori Valley and 

suffered severe military losses, 

including about a quarter of its 

main battle tanks, up to 15 naval 

vessels, a significant portion of its 

air force assets (Russia claimed to 

have shot down three of Georgia’s 

Su-25s) including the bulk of its 

military and civilian radars, and

186 military personnel, although it 

is not clear which assets and lives 

were specifically lost to air attacks 

and bombardment. 31 According 

to most accounts, the major oil 

(the Baku-Tbilisi-Ceyhan and the 

Baku-Tbilisi-Supsa) and gas (the 

Baku-Tbilisi-Erzurum) pipelines 

transiting Georgia were not hit 

during the conflict, although there 

were voluntary and precautionary 

shutdowns. Georgia, however, 

reported direct air attacks against the 

Baku-Tbilisi-Ceyhan pipeline, which 

could not be proven. The vulnerability 

of the pipelines transiting Georgia, 

and Russia’s opposition, is likely to 

affect plans to add new pipelines. 32 

Damage to Russia was limited to 

the military forces engaged in the 

conflict. Georgia’s acquisition of 

new air defence systems and the 

modernization of older ones proved 

its worth – and were perhaps 

underestimated by Russia – even 

though Georgian systems could 

not adequately and entirely cover 

the country’s airspace. 33 Georgian 

military changes since 2003, however, 

proved sufficient to deny Russia 

full air dominance over Georgia. 

Officially, Russia admitted to the 

loss of four military aircraft, three 

Su-25s and one Tu-22M3R, most 

likely to surface-to-air missiles. 34 

Details are sketchy: 

• On 9 August, an Su-25 piloted 

by Colonel Sergey Kobylash, 

a regiment commander, was 

shot down by a Georgian air 

defence missile. Kobylash 

ejected safely. 

• The same day a Georgian 

SA-11 radar-guided surface-toair 

missile brought down a 

Tu-22M3R Backfire bomber 

that was being used for 

reconnaissance purposes 

near Gori. 35 The navigator was 

killed, but the pilot, Colonel 

Igor Zinov, survived and was 

shown in his hospital bed by 

the Georgian media. 

Reportedly, all crew members 

were instructors from the 

Valery Chkalov main flighttest 

center at Akhtubinsk, 

recruited due to a shortage 

of ready and qualified pilots. 36 

Zinov and other Russian 

servicemen were eventually 

exchanged for 15 Georgian 

soldiers. 

• The last two Su-25s were shot 

down on 11 August, probably 

by surface-to-air missiles. 

The overall number of aircraft Russia 

lost has been challenged by Georgia, 

which claimed to have shot down 

between a dozen to over a hundred, 

depending on the source consulted. 

Mikhail Barabanov, writing in 

Moscow Defense Brief, and perhaps a 

more credible source than Georgian 

officials, argues that Russia 

effectively lost seven aircraft: one 

Tu-22M3 long-range bomber, one 

Su-24M Fencer frontal bomber, one 

Su-24MR Fencer E reconnaissance 

aircraft, and four Su-25 attack 

planes. 37 Part of Georgia’s success 

at eliminating Russian aircraft from 

the sky, according to Barabanov, 

can be attributed to its effective use 

of its Kolchuga-M passive radar 

systems and sound tactical use of its 

Buk-M1 and Osa-AK SAM systems 

(this is certainly in contrast to the 

poor performance of its land forces). 

Buk-M1 SAMs may indeed have 

succeeded in taking out no less than 

three Su-25s and the Tu-22M3, and 

99

100 

the Osa-AK the two Su-24s (Russian 

officials think that the Buk-M1 was 

responsible for the acknowledged 

loss of its four aircraft) – while the 

fourth Su-25s could have been hit 

by a Russian shoulder-fired missile 

by mistake. 38 

That Georgian air defence systems 

played such a significant role in 

the conflict before, for all intent 

and purposes, being taken out of 

commission can be explained by 

the fact that it was Russia’s first 

experience in fighting against new 

generations, modern, CDS DQ – Is 

this correct? If it relates to the SAM 

systems it may be better to say 

‘…fighting against so many new 

generation, modern SAM systems 

at once.’ and so many SAM systems 

at once. 39 Even if Russia had had 

very experienced and accomplished 

combat pilots at hand, and the 

most modern and technologically 

advanced aircraft, aerial losses would 

still be expected. It remains, though, 

that poorly skilled pilots, bad tactics 

and old aircraft may have helped 

Georgian air defence scoring the 

successes it had. 40 

Lessons learned and Russian 

military reforms 

Russia’s President, Dmitry Medvedev, 

despite the country’s success in 

its military conflict with Georgia, 

met with senior Russian officers at 

the Dongus test ground, Orenburg 

Region, on 26 September 2008 and 

requested a “precise plan of action for 

the immediate future” by December 

2008. He then set out five key areas 

for improvement: 

1. All combat formations and 

troop units must be brought to 

permanent readiness status. 

2. The effectiveness of command 

and control systems must 

be ‘raised’. 

3. The system of officer training 

and education and military 

science must be improved. 

4. The armed forces must be 

equipped with ‘the most 

modern weapons’ with 

special attention focused on 

precision munitions. 

5. Pay, housing and the social 

amenities for military 

personnel must be improved. 41 

Thus, on 14 October 2008, Russia’s 

Minister of Defence, Anatoliy 

Serdyukov, announced the beginning 

of a ‘new stage’ in military reform. 

These reforms are so systemic, far 

reaching and ambitious that they 

arguably constitute the most radical 

reform of the Russian armed forces 

since 1945. Serdyukov’s military 

reform will impact on the whole 

functional basis of the Russian 

military, ranging from the command 

and control bodies to the officers 

training system and personnel 

numbers. In short, Russia aims to 

create a professional, permanent 

combat-ready army, designed for 

intervention in local conflicts rather 

than large-scale conventional 

operations. In doing this, it will 

move away from its traditional 

divisional-regimental structure to 

a brigade-based organization. This 

will be most apparent in abandoning 

its four-link command and control 

system (military district, army, 

division, regiment) to a new threelink 

structure (military district, 

operational command, brigade). 

These proposed changes, to take 

effect by 2012, are intended to 

enhance efficiency by streamlining

the multi-tiered system. Moreover, 

these reforms also envisage drastic 

officer cuts. By 2012, Russia’s armed 

forces will be cut to one million 

servicemen, with around 150,000 

serving officers. 42 

Serdyukov’s military reform plan 

foresees abolishing non-fully manned 

(cadre) units and switching instead 

to permanent-readiness units. Thus, 

the Russian armed forces will ceaseto 

be a mobilization-based organization. 

A key factor in these initiatives will be 

the streamlining of the officer caste 

and the strengthening of Russia’s 

conventional military capabilities 

on the basis of rapid reaction forces 

within each of its six military 

districts. Although these plans were 

clearly under consideration before 

August 2008, the war in Georgia has 

had an impact on the precise nature 

of these military reform priorities. 

Russian combat operations in South 

Ossetia witnessed the use of five 

regimental tactical groups (that is, 

reinforced motorized-rifle regiments) 

from the 19th (North Ossetia) and 

42nd (Chechnya) Motorized-Rifle 

Divisions. The command and control 

of this grouping was not carried 

out by divisional staffs or even by 

the staff of the 58th Army 

(Vladikavkaz), but directly by the staff 

of the North Caucasus MD using a 

specially formed group. Therefore, 

the three-link command and control 

structure announced as part of 

Serdyukov’s military reforms appears 

to be a formalization of the scheme 

used in Georgia. 43 

Many of these changes will have 

implications for future Russian air 

power, as well as revealing some 

of the weaknesses identified by 

the Russian planning staffs in the 

performance of the VVS during the 

war in Georgia. Although rapid 

reaction forces continue to be a vital 

part of the future structure of the 

Russian armed forces, Serdyukov 

decided against forming independent 

rapid reaction forces, preferring 

instead to transform existing units. 

These units are the Airborne 

Troops (Vozdushno Desantnye Voiska 

– VDV), which ‘acquitted themselves 

sufficiently effectively during the 

repelling of Georgian aggression 

in South Ossetia. It is another 

thing to strengthen such units: a 

VDV brigade will appear in every 

military district to carry out urgent 

missions and action in unpredictable 

circumstances,’ Serdyukov confirmed. 

Thus, all four existing air-assault 

divisions in the VDV will survive the 

reforms, but will be redistributed 

among all six military districts. 44 

Despite Russia’s military leadership 

assessing the combat performance 

of its airborne forces highly during 

the war in Georgia, in August 

2008, the MoD pressed for pushing 

through structural reforms that will 

see an airborne brigade placed in 

all six military districts; this will 

constitute Russia’s future rapid 

reaction forces. Implementation of 

this reform involves disbanding one 

of the airborne divisions, the 106 th in 

Tula, and distributing its regiments 

and subunits among the military 

districts, thus forming the nucleus of 

future airborne brigades. Therefore, 

although the 106 th will be dissolved in 

2009, this will not affect the manning 

levels of Russia’s airborne troops, 

at around 25,000. Their unreformed 

structure in 2008 consisted of two 

airborne divisions (the 106th and 

98th), the 76th Air Assault Division, 

the 31st Separate Air Assault Brigade, 

101

102 

and the 7th Mountain Division in 

the Airborne Troops’ composition. 

The Tula Airborne Division consists 

of three regiments (including an 

artillery regiment), an air defence 

missile battery, and support units 

and subunits, with a total personnel 

strength of over 5,000 servicemen. 

Army General Nikolay Makarov, 

Chief of the General Staff (CGS), 

addressing foreign defence attachés 

at the Military Academy of the 

General Staff in Moscow on 10 

December 2008, suggested the VDV 

may be ‘cushioned’ from this reform, 

allowing their traditional battalions 

and regiments to be preserved. 

Makarov said Army Aviation units 

will continue in their subordination 

to the Air Force, though this could 

change as a result of further 

alterations to reform plans, though he 

expressed his personal view that VDV 

should be transferred to the ground 

forces. 45 However, it is not clear where 

these newly formed brigades will be 

based, what their operational axis will 

cover, nor have the potential future 

sources of threat been clarified to 

merit this change in structuring. Until 

2008, prior to initiating these changes, 

Russia’s rapid reaction forces were 

based in European Russia, though 

in future they will be present even 

in the Siberian and Far East MDs to 

protect against unspecified threats. 

The MoD justify such plans in terms 

of ‘optimizing’ and forming a ‘new 

look’ Russian military. 46 

Manning changes 

Consistent with President 

Medvedev’s reform agenda, in 

November 2008, the VVS announced 

its plans to eliminate all its divisions 

and regiments, replacing these with 

airbases on the basis of squadrons 

and reducing its officer staff by 50,000 

over a three-year period. By 2012, the 

VVS will eliminate the rank of ensign, 

while converting other management 

posts to civilian status. These changes 

came into effect on 1 December 

2008, indicating the seriousness with 

which Russia’s Defence Minister, 

Anatoliy Serdyukov, intends to 

push through such reforms. If 

implemented successfully, by 2012 

the VVS will consist of a strategictactical 

command, strategic air 

command armed with nuclear 

weapons, military-transport air 

command and four air defence and 

antimissile commands. The existing 

340 VVS units and formations will 

be cut to 180. 47 Corps and divisions 

of the Air Defence Forces (Voiska 

Protivo-vosdushnoy Oborony – PVO) 

will be reorganized into air-andspace 

defence brigades and the 

anti-aircraft missile brigades will 

also be reorganized into anti-aircraft 

missile regiments. These reforms 

will be augmented by reforming 

the supporting structures used to 

transport supplies to the forces, 

replacing the existing nine vehicular 

brigades with 20 battalions serving 

on constant alert. Although the 

overall nature of Medvedev’s military 

reform programme is radical and 

far reaching, the VVS and VDV 

will arguably be the least affected. 

However, there are elements of 

the officer cuts and structural 

reorganization that will present 

problems if the reforms are to 

enhance the future combat readiness 

of Russia’s Air Force. These range 

from the elimination of key officer 

and middle ranking posts, whether 

the MoD can adequately manage 

the transition to more efficient force 

structures and the State can afford

to invest in new procurement plans 

coupled with the social policies 

and career development that will 

support professionalising the various 

structures involved in Russia’s air 

power capabilities. 48 

Plans to eliminate warrant officers 

(praporshchik) from the Russian 

armed forces, in an attempt to 

streamline and reduce what Defence 

Minister Serdyukov describes as a 

management system resembling 

an egg with too many Lieutenant 

Colonels and Colonels in the 

middle layer, has provoked ongoing 

controversy within Russia, from both 

serving and retired officers alike. 

This is a particularly crucial reform 

affecting the VVS, since practically 

all aircraft technicians, for fighters, 

ground attack aircraft, and bombers, 

including strategic platforms, hold 

the rank of warrant officers. They 

have also comprised the main 

personnel of aviation’s TECh (aircraft 

maintenance units). According to the 

military reform programme more 

than 100,000 warrant officer posts 

will be abolished, gradually 

introducing ‘professional’ sergeants 

to fulfil their duties. Opponents 

of the reform question whether 

the Russian state has either the 

funds, specialists or the even a well 

developed programme in place to 

achieve this transition successfully. 

In October 2008, when these radical 

changes were publicly announced, 

there was no Federal programme yet 

in place to facilitate the conversion 

of all sergeants and petty officers to a 

contract manning system. 49 

Education 

Russia’s military reform programme 

will also have an impact on the 

extensive and sprawling educational 

and training establishments used by 

the VVS. In an effort to streamline 

these establishments, Colonel- 

General Aleksandr Zelin, VVS 

Commander in Chief has said that 

in future all training and research for 

the VVS will be carried out by a single 

centre. On 4 November 2008, during 

a visit to the Krasnodar-based Air 

Force School, Colonel-General Zelin 

envisaged that in several years time it 

will be the only academy in Russia to 

train air force pilots. Zelin said: 

“A single research centre will be 

created to comprise all other 

educational establishments and 

research institutes, which will 

advance research and train 

personnel for the Air Force.” 50 

Education and training reform will 

therefore, concentrate on eliminating 

duplication, designed to serve a 

new and ‘optimized’ air force, but 

it will face challenges in managing 

and designing adequate training 

programmes for the new generation 

of ‘professional sergeants’ planned to 

replace the existing warrant officers. 

While the reform of the officer caste 

throughout the armed forces will 

present organizational challenges, 

little thought or planning currently 

exists on how to recalibrate the 

development of a new mindset and 

military culture among the junior 

ranks; the manning systems used 

within NATO professional armed 

forces encourage problem solving 

and initiative further down the 

chain of command. In short, duties 

and responsibilities carried out by 

lower ranks within western models 

were being fulfilled by officers in 

the Russian model of personnel 

management. These changes will 

present operational difficulties 

103

104 

during the transition period, while 

Russian Ministry of Defence (MoD) 

officials may have underestimated 

the potential impact these reforms 

may have on the combat capabilities 

of the Russian military in the shortmedium 

term, as such radical 

manning transformations usually 

demand a gradual introduction over 

a longer period of time. 

Such plans to drastically reduce 

and streamline the VVS educational 

and training establishments are in 

stark contrast to the fortunes of the 

VDV, who appear to have gained 

more leniencies from the MoD as 

a result of the war in Georgia. The 

Ryazan Higher Airborne Troops 

Command School, celebrating its 

90th anniversary in 2008, also admits 

cadets from throughout the former 

Soviet Union, China and Africa. 

Colonel Vladimir Lugovoy, head of 

the military school, confirmed in 

November 2008 that the rumoured 

relocation of the command school 

from Ryazan to Novosibirsk has been 

abandoned. This appears linked to 

the performance of the VDV in the 

Georgia war, when these troops 

were again so heavily relied upon 

by Moscow. 51 Airborne Troops 

Commander, Lieutenant General 

Valeriy Yevtukhovich, reported to an 

extended meeting the VDV military 

council in Moscow on 18 November 

2008, stating that formations and units 

of Airborne Troops have performed 

over 160,000 parachute drops in 

2008. Colonel Aleksandr Cherednik, 

head of the VDV information and 

public relations service, singled out 

the 76th Airborne Assault Division 

headquartered in Pskov (commander 

– Major-General Aleksandr 

Kolpachenko) as the best formation 

of Airborne Troops (professionalized 

manning), and in particular the 

division’s 104th Airborne Assault 

Regiment (commander – Hero of 

Russia, Colonel Gennadiy Anashkin) 

as the best unit. According to him, 

the commander’s report highlighted 

combat tasks performed by soldiers 

from formations and units of the 

VDV during the operation to ‘repel 

Georgia’s aggression in South 

Ossetia’. As Cherednik stressed: 

‘The Airborne Troops Commander 

particularly noted the courage 

and heroism of airborne troopers 

who were among the first to arrive in 

Tskhinvali to help Russian peacekeepers, 

their humane treatment of the Georgian 

population as well as of Georgian 

prisoners of war.’ 52 

Russia’s VVS on the eve of conflict 

with Georgia 

Russian military authorities, perhaps 

in support of such ambitious reform 

programmes, have been much 

more openly critical of deep social 

problems existing within the VVS. 

As many as one in four conscripts 

who reported for service in the Air 

Force in autumn 2008 were raised 

in a single-parent family, while one 

in 10 had used drugs before service, 

according to Lieutenant Colonel 

Vladimir Drik, aide to the Air Force 

commander-in-chief. These issues 

were used to explain the alarmingly 

high proportion of suicidal conscripts 

serving in the Rostov Force and Air 

Defence Large Strategic Formation. 

“According to a survey conducted 

in the Rostov Air Force and Air 

Defence Large Strategic Formation, 

around 25 per cent of the conscripts 

are liable to commit suicide, or, as 

psychiatrists say, are at high risk of 

suicide,” said Drik. 53 He said about a 

quarter of these conscripts grew up

without a father or a mother, while 

10 per cent had used drugs and 

abused alcohol before service and 

an undisclosed number had criminal 

convictions. While only serving as 

one illustration of such problems 

that could be limited to the locality, 

Drik underscored that this is being 

witnessed within the wider force 

structures. He said that, “problems 

concerning the conscripts in the 

Rostov Large Strategic Formation, 

as seen by psychiatrists, exist in other 

Air Force combined units as well.” 54 As 

troubling as these statistics are for the 

Russian armed forces, they accurately 

reflect wider social problems that are 

well documented in Russia, which 

are inadvertently subsumed into the 

military by conscription: the longer 

term solution lies in professionalizing 

the VVS and VDV. 

The Russian Air Force faces a 

continued shortage of funds for 

conducting repairs and purchasing 

spare parts, consequently the 

technical condition of the Air Force 

aircraft fleet remains low, also 

affected by the significant age of the 

aircraft. Reportedly, the quantity of 

combat-ready aircraft in an aviation 

regiment varies from 40 up to 60, 

though it may be lower in some 

cases. In fact, the central problem 

facing the Russian Air Force is the 

technical condition of its aircraft fleet. 

Pilots having insufficient flight hours 

results from a lack of spare parts 

and the declining length of service 

life of its aircraft. 55 General Makarov 

described the low levels of combat 

readiness within the VVS, during 

a speech delivered to the Russian 

Academy of Military Sciences in 

Moscow on 16 December 2008, he 

explained: “Of those 150 regiments in 

our air forces, there are only five ones 

(sic) permanently combat-ready and 

capable of fulfilling all tasks set, albeit 

with limited numbers – operating just 

24 aircraft instead of 36.” 56 

Frontal aviation (tactical combat 

aircraft, frontal bombers, ground 

attack aircraft, fighters and 

reconnaissance aircraft) accounts for 

around 1,400 aircraft, of which 900 are 

reportedly in storage. Modernization 

programmes for frontal aviation 

aircraft are being conducted slowly 

owing to a shortage of resources. 

The state armaments programme 

for 2007-2015, foresees a total of 408 

frontal aviation aircraft undergoing 

modernization, as well as introducing 

116 new aircraft. This will mainly 

involve purchasing some new Su-35 

fighters and Su-54 frontal bombers, 

though manufacturing delays have 

been encountered in both cases. 57 

Should a complete fulfilment of the 

state armaments programme be 

achieved by 2015, only four of the 39 

currently available frontal aviation 

regiments will be armed with the 

newest aircraft, and only a maximum 

of 18 with modernized aircraft. 

Moreover, Russia’s frontal aviation 

lags behind the air forces of western 

105

106 

countries in being equipped with 

modern precision weaponry. The VVS 

has only recently completed trials 

using guided munitions with satellite 

correction, while Russian fighters are 

not armed with ‘over-the-horizon’ 

air-to-air missiles with active radar 

homing heads. It is expected that a 

new generation of armaments will 

reach the VVS no earlier than 2010. 58 

Colonel General Vladimir Popovkin, 

Russia’s Armed Forces chief of 

armament and deputy minister of 

defence, outlined the priorities for 

the VVS following the war in Georgia, 

confirming that enhancing the future 

night-fighting capabilities of Russian 

air power will be a key part of 

Moscow’s military reform agenda: 

‘The priorities here are as follows: 

developing and producing the PAK FA 

[future frontline aviation system], 

modernizing the Su-24, Su-25, and 

Su-27 aircraft, and purchasing new 

aircraft – the oft-mentioned Su-34. It is 

very important that we will be buying 

all aircraft equipment as a package – 

that is, aircraft together with the 

ordnance for them. When talking about 

the modernization of relatively old 

machines, we mean primarily replacing 

their avionics. This is so that they can all 

“see” at night, so the crew can operate on 

a “fire and forget” basis, and so forth.’ 59 

Russia’s armed forces are also behind 

in global developments and use of 

UAVs. The VVS currently has at its 

disposal outdated reconnaissance 

UAVs like the Tu-141, Tu-143 and Tu- 

243, though it is reportedly working 

on modernizing the Tu-143. 60 In an 

effort to address this deficiency in 

the longer term, work is underway 

in several Russian design bureaus 

simultaneously on the development 

of a broad spectrum of various UAVs 

(mainly for reconnaissance), with 

assistance from Israeli companies. 

In this regard, Russia has reportedly 

ordered the Ryabinsk-based Lutch 

Design Bureau’s Tipchak UAV system 

for deployment in conflict zones. 

The Tipchak system consists of six 

50kg drones, transport and launch 

vehicles, and a guidance and control 

centre, and the delivery of the first 

system was expected by the end of 

2008. 61 RSK MiG, under a contract 

with the VVS, is currently working 

on the creation of the Skat stealth 

unmanned combat aerial vehicle 

(UCAV), which was demonstrated in 

2007, and flight testing is expected 

to begin in 2009. 62 This may partly 

explain the apparently odd decision 

to deploy a Tu-22M3 bomber on a 

reconnaissance mission over South 

Ossetia, which was lost early on in 

the air campaign. 

Fighting ‘blind’ 

Russia’s experiences with Georgia’s 

air defence systems will force the 

Russian air force to devote a lot 

more attention to ‘the suppression 

of enemy air defences (SEAD), 

including the renewal of tactics, 

electronic weapons and increased 

military training in this area.’ 63 The 

shooting down of the Tu-22M3, 

which had entered service in 1983, 

has highlighted several needs 

for improvement, including ‘new 

navigation equipment, cockpit 

upgrades, new electronic warfare 

equipment, self-defensive aids, 

[and] GPS-guided weapons,’ if the 

aircraft is to remain a viable asset 

to the Russian Air Force for the 

foreseeable future. 64 

Night vision capability was also 

critically lacking as the following 

story pointedly illustrates.

Lieutenant-General Anatoliy Khrulev, 

Commander of the 58th Army, was 

rescued by a helicopter piloted with 

the aid of third-generation night 

vision glasses. It was only possible to 

evacuate the army commander safely 

by helicopter and only at night. This 

operation, a standard occurrence 

in a NATO force, was successful 

thanks to a fortunate confluence of 

circumstances and the flight skills of 

the pilot of a Mi-8MTKO, Lieutenant 

Colonel Ivan Gnetetskiy. Prior to his 

tour of duty in the North Caucasus, 

he was given GEO-ONV1-01 night 

vision glasses to test, allowing him to 

take off from a helicopter pad near 

Dzhava in night conditions despite 

Georgian rockets being fired, flying in 

mountainous terrain, avoiding hightension 

electric lines, and delivering 

the wounded commander to Beslan, 

North Ossetia. Yet, despite the 

positive publicity generated by this 

rescue mission, the use of night vision 

equipment by the VVS and VDV was 

woefully inadequate. 65 

In 1998, several experimental 

type-Mi-8 and type Mi-24 ‘night’ 

helicopters were introduced 

for a number of Russia’s 

security departments. The VVS 

conducted testing of army aircraft, 

which confirmed their unique 

characteristics. And the Federal 

Security Service (FSB) Interior 

Ministry (MVD) later sent their 

‘night hawks’ into battle in Chechnya. 

The VDV only allotted one purely 

reconnaissance helicopter for largescale 

counter-terrorist operations. 

During the second Chechen 

campaign, which began in 1999, there 

were helicopter sorties conducted 

using night-fighting capabilities, 

during which rebel bases, ‘bandit 

groups’ passing through the 

mountains, fire points, weapons 

caches, and many other targets were 

discovered. As much as two-thirds of 

the targets discovered were destroyed 

by FSB flown ‘night helicopters’. 

Neither the VVS nor VDV were able 

to use night fighting Mi-24VK’s and 

Mi-24PK’s adapted to night-time 

battle while conducting the antiterrorist 

operation. Consequently, 

they were put almost directly into 

reserve, and now they are getting 

ready to decommission them 

altogether. A squadron of Mi-24’s 

were modernized according to the 

PN configuration, night cannon, 

using tank infra-red sights installed 

on the helicopters, failing to utilize 

the experience of working with the 

Mi-24VK and Mi-24PK. Naturally, the 

Mi-24PN was simply unable to fight 

at night. These were not deployed 

in South Ossetia. However, the 

State Arms Programme plans the 

procurement of thousands of various 

night vision systems based on thirdgeneration 

technology. 66 

These deficiencies in Russia’s 

night-fighting capabilities are being 

addressed in military reform plans, 

which seem invigorated by Russia’s 

operational experience in Georgia. 

VVS Commander-in-Chief, Colonel- 

General Aleksandr Zelin, confirmed 

in December 2008 that the VVS had 

received its first deliveries of the Mi- 

28N (Night Hunter) helicopter. The 

Military helicopter factory, Vertolety 

Rossii, also reported that its tests of 

the Mi-28N were to be completed 

in December 2008, and that it had 

supplied around 15 of these platforms 

to the VVS, with more to follow. The 

Mi-28N Night Hunter is designed for 

destroying tanks, armoured hardware 

and low-speed air targets. It has a 

30-mm-calibre gun, the Ataka-B 

107

108 

anti-tank missile system, air-to-air 

missiles and other armaments. 67 

Colonel-General Vladimir Popovkin, 

chief of armament and deputy 

minister of defence, noted the 

problems of introducing GPS devices 

into Russia’s military inventory: 

‘I would first note that the GPS system 

has never been part of our armoury, 

although a certain number of such 

navigation devices were purchased 

during the first Chechnya campaign. 

On the whole the development of the 

devices that will utilize the global 

navigation system is complete. It is now 

a matter of augmenting the satellite 

grouping and a matter for industry, 

whose potential determines the timeline 

within which these devices will be 

produced in the requisite quantity. 

And the third component is the ability 

of commanding officers to organize 

the instruction of service personnel in 

working with these devices. Like with 

mobile telephones, people need to be 

made familiar with them so they become 

a routine weapon, just like a submachine 

gun, and so they use them naturally, not 

when they are forced to. We are buying 

more than 3,000 such devices a year, 

and today – at the least on the southern 

borders users have no navigation 

equipment problems.’ 68 

Conclusion 

In the months and years to come, 

Georgia intends to enlarge its air 

force and improve its air defence 

system to cover the whole country, 

hopefully with the assistance it 

expects to receive from friendly 

countries. 69 This is important to 

Georgia as the strategic vulnerability 

of its energy infrastructures became 

obviously apparent during the August 

conflict. 70 Georgia’s challenge, given 

its losses, is enormous and will cost a 

lot to remedy. Russia’s challenges, in 

contrast, are much more manageable 

and have a reasonable chance to be 

met. Should they be fully carried 

out as described in this article, they 

would result in a much improved 

and capable armed forces. The VVS 

still has much to learn from its recent 

experience facing modern air defence 

systems, but any improvement in its 

performance will depend on more 

than technological fixes. Education, 

training, the retention of its best, 

most experienced pilots, and the 

development and validation of new 

techniques, tactics and procedures in 

SEAD activities will continue to play 

an important role in the ability of the 

VVS to perform its mission. 

Notes 

1 Dodge Billingsley, ‘Georgian-Abkhazian 

Security Issues’, Jane’s Intelligence 

Review, Vol. 8, No. 2, February 1996, pp. 

65-68; Pavel Felgenhauer, ‘Russia Offers 

Georgia a Stick and a Carrot’, Eurasia 

Daily Monitor, Vol. 5, Issue 78, 24 April 

2008; Vladimir Socor, ‘The West Can 

Respond More Effectively To Russia’s 

Assault on Georgia: Part III’, Eurasia 

Daily Monitor, Vol. 5, Issue 89, 9 May 2008; 

Vladimir Socor, ‘UN Mission Confirms 

Georgian, Rejects Russian Version of Air 

Clash’, Eurasia Daily Monitor, Vol. 5, Issue 

100, 27 May 2008. 

2 Said Aminov, “Georgia’s Air Defence 

in the War with South Ossetia,” Moscow 

Defense Brief, No. 3(13) 2008, accessed at 

http://mdb.cast.ru/mdb/3-2008/item3/ 

article3/. 

3 Dmitry Zaks, ‘Russia Sends Jets to 

Georgia Border, War of Words Heats 

Up’, Agence France Presse, 19 September 

2002; Pavel Felgenhauer, ‘Georgia Calls 

Putin’s Bluff’, The Moscow Times, 19 

September 2002.

4 ‘Georgia: Sliding Towards 

Authoritarianism?’ Europe Report, No. 189 

(Brussels: International Crisis Group, 19 

December 2007), p. 9; Daniel Fried, U.S. 

Assistant Secretary of State for European 

and Eurasian Affairs, ‘The Current 

Situation in Georgia and Implications 

for U.S. Policy’, Testimony before the 

Senate Committee on Armed Forces 

(Washington, D.C., 9 September 2008); C. 

J. Chivers, ‘Georgia Seeks U.N. Security 

Council Session About Missile’, The New 

York Times, 9 August 2007. 

5 ‘Russia vs. Georgia: The Fallout’, Europe 

Report, No. 195 (Brussels: International 

Crisis Group, 22 August 2008), p. 1; Jim 

Nichol, ‘Russia-Georgia Conflict in South 

Ossetia: Context and Implications for 

U.S. Interests’, CRS Report for Congress, 

Order Code RL34618 (Washington, D.C.: 

Library of Congress, Congressional 

Research Service, 29 August 2008), p. 4; 

Fried, ‘The Current Situation in Georgia 

and Implications for U.S. Policy’. 

6 ‘Georgia: Escalation of Violence in 

South Ossetia and Abkhazia’, Press 

Statement 2008/575 (Washington, D.C.: 

U.S. Department of State, 14 July 2008). 

7 Report of the Secretary-General on the 

Situation in Abkhazia, Georgia, document 

S/2008/480 (New York: United Nations, 

Security Council, 23 July 2008), pp. 3- 

4; Report of the Secretary-General on the 

Situation in Abkhazia, Georgia, document 

S/2008/219 (New York: United Nations, 

Security Council, 2 April 2008), pp. 5-6; 

Felgenhauer, ‘Russia Offers Georgia a 

Stick and a Carrot’; Vladimir Socor, ‘UN 

Mission Confirms Georgian, Rejects 

Russian Version of Air Clash’. 

8 Nichol, ‘Russia-Georgia Conflict in 

South Ossetia’, p. 3. 

9 ‘La guerre en Géorgie...une nouvelle 

fable de La Fontaine’, Navires & Histoire, 

No. 50, October/November 2008, p. 8. 

10 Mikhail Barabanov, ‘The August War 

between Russia and Georgia’, Moscow 

Defense Brief, No. 3(13), 2008, accessed at 

http://mdb.cast.ru/mdb/3-2008/item3/ 

article1/. 

11 ‘La guerre en Géorgie...’, pp. 11-13, 

15; ‘Russia vs. Georgia: The Fallout’, p. 2; 

C. J. Chivers and Thom Shanker, ‘ 

Georgia Eager to Rebuild Its Defeated 

Armed Forces’, The New York Times, 3 


12 Mark Galeotti, ‘The Intelligence War 

over South Ossetia’, author’s blog entry 

dated 29 August 2008 accessed at http:// 

inmoscowsshadows.wordpress.com. 

13 Jon Lake, ‘Air War Over Georgia’, 

Combat Aircraft, Vol. 9, No. 5, October/ 

November 2008, p. 19. 

14 ‘Georgia-Air Force’, Jane’s World Air 

Forces, updated 14 August 2008. 

15 Aminov, ‘Georgia’s Air Defence in the 

War with South Ossetia’. 

16 Spiegel Staff, ‘The West Begins to 

Doubt Georgian Leader’, Der Spiegel, 

15 September 2008, accessed at 

http://www.spiegel.de/international/ 

world/0,1518,578273,00.html; Peter Finn, 

‘Russian Air, Ground Forces Strike 

Georgia’, The Washington Post, 9 August 

2008; ‘La guerre en Géorgie...’, p. 13; Lake, 

‘Air War Over Georgia’, p. 19. According 

to Mikhail Barabanov, ‘Russian 

helicopters had a hard time flying over 

the Caucasus passes, and thus extensive 

use of helicopters by Russia began only 

after August 10-11, once a temporary 

landing/take-off strip was set up in 

South Ossetia.’ Barabanov, ‘The August 

War between Russia and Georgia.’ A 

detailed organization chart of the 4 Army 

of Air Forces and Air Defence is available 

at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:4th_ 

Air_ Army_(Russia).png. 

17 ‘La guerre en Géorgie...’, p. 11. 

18 ‘Russia vs. Georgia: The Fallout’, p. 3; ‘A 

Chronology of the Crisis’, IISS Strategic 

Comments, Vol. 14, Issue 7, September 

2008; Finn, ‘Russian Air, Ground Forces 

Strike Georgia.’ The aerial bombings in 

Gori reportedly caused ‘heavy civilian 

casualties.’ Oksana Antonenko, ‘A War 

with No Winners’, Survival, Vol. 50, No. 5, 

October-November 2008, p. 25; ‘La guerre 

109

110 

en Géorgie...’, pp. 13-14. 

19 ‘La guerre en Géorgie...’, pp. 13-14. 


21 Colonel-General Anatoliy Nogovitsyn, 

Deputy Chief of the Russian General 

Staff, Interfax, 12 August 2008. 

22 See: Politkom.ru, 19 September 2008. 

23 ‘Russia’s Troops to Liberate Tskhinvali’, 

Kommersant, August 8, 2008; ‘Russian 

Paratroopers in Abkhazia’, InfoRos, 11 

August 2008; ‘Paratroopers from Pskov, 

Ivanovo Brought in to Tskhinvali’, 

Kommersant, 9 August 2008. 

24 Nichol, ‘Russia-Georgia Conflict in 

South Ossetia’, p. 6; ‘Seeking Peace in the 

South Caucasus’, IISS Strategic Comments, 

Vol. 14, Issue 9, November 2008; ‘Russia 

vs. Georgia: The Fallout’, p. 3; Report of 

the Secretary-General on the Situation in 

Abkhazia, Georgia, document S/2008/631 

(New York: United Nations, Security 

Council, 3 October 2008), p. 2; ‘La guerre 

en Géorgie...’, p. 13. 

25 Report of the Secretary-General on 

the Situation in Abkhazia, Georgia, 

S/2008/631, p. 6; ‘La guerre en Géorgie...’, 

p. 14. 


27 ‘Russia vs. Georgia: The Fallout’, p. 29. 

The U.S. Congressional Research Service 

noted that Russia’s military campaign 

had been seemingly disproportionate. 

Nichol, ‘Russia-Georgia Conflict in 

South Ossetia’, p. 10. In his statement 

to the Organisation for Security and 

Co-operation in Europe on 1 October 

2008, U.S. Under Secretary of Defence 

for Policy Eric Edelman qualified 

Russia’s response as ‘significantly 

disproportionate.’ See OSCE document 

FSC.JOUR/564, Annex 6 Attachment, 1 

October 2008. 

28 For descriptions of the harm caused by 

cluster munitions, visit the webpage of 

the Cluster Munition Coalition at http:// 

www.stopclustermunitions.org/theproblem/history-harm/. 

29 Michael Schwirtz, ‘Georgia Fired 

More Cluster Bombs Than Thought, 

Killing Civilians, Report Finds’, The New 

York Times, 6 November 2008; ‘Georgia/ 

Russia: Use of Rocket Systems Can 

Harm Civilians’, Human Rights Watch, 

12 August 2008, accessed at http://www. 

hrw.org; Andrew E. Kramer and Clifford 

J. Levy, ‘Rice, in Georgia, Calls on Russia 

to Pull Out Now’, The New York Times, 16 

August 2008. 

30 Hans de Vreij, ‘Russia Used ‘Iskander’ 

Missiles in Georgia Conflict, Report 

Says’, Jane’s Defence Weekly, Vol. 45, No. 

44, 29 October 2008, p. 5. 

31 ‘Georgia: The Risks of Winter’, Europe 

Briefing, No. 51 (Brussels: International 

Crisis Group, 26 November 2008), 

p. 9. The US$1 billion figure is from 

Antonenko, ‘A War with No Winners’, 

p. 25; Felix K. Chang, ‘Russia Resurgent: 

An Initial Look at Russian Military 

Performance in Georgia’, FPRI E-Notes, 13 

August 2008. 

32 ‘Europe’s Energy Dependence’, IISS 

Strategic Comments, Vol. 14, Issue 7, 

September 2008; Ed Blanche, ‘Oil’s 

Troubled Waters’, The Middle East, 

November 2008, pp. 42-44. Alleged 

attempts to bomb the Baku-Tbilisi- 

Ceyhan pipeline were also noted by the 

U.S. Congressional Research Service. 

Nichol, ‘Russia-Georgia Conflict in South 

Ossetia’, p. 16. 

33 Between 2004 and 2006, Ukraine 

provided Georgia with two 36-D6-M 

radars capable to detect, identify and 

track aerial targets. ‘Statement by the 

Delegation of the Russian Federation’ at 

the 558th Penary Meeting of the Forum 

for Security Cooperation, Organization 

for Security and Cooperation in Europe, 

FSC.JOUR/564, Annex 1, 1 October 2008. 

34 Craig Hoyle, ‘Air Power in Demand’, 

Flight International, Vol. 174, No. 5164, 11- 

17 November 2008, p. 48; Nichol, ‘Russia- 

Georgia Conflict in South Ossetia’, p. 

11; Chang, ‘Russia Resurgent: An Initial 

Look at Russian Military Performance 

in Georgia’.

35 Twelve Tu-22M3R are believed to have 

been converted to a reconnaissance 

role, thus the ‘R’ designation. Jamie 

Hunter, ‘Loss of ‘Backfire’ Over Georgia 

Highlights Aircraft’s Deficiencies’, Jane’s 

International Defence Review, Vol. 41, 


36 Vladimir Karnozov, ‘Lessons of the 

Five-Day War’, Flight International, Vol. 

174, No. 5155, 9-15 September 2008, p. 22; 

Lake, ‘Air War Over Georgia’, p. 19. To 

fly its aircraft, the Air Force apparently 

offered pilots bonuses, which in some 

cases were turned down. Reuben F. 

Johnson, ‘Tennis Shoes and Stolen 

Toilets’, The Weekly Standard, Vol. 14, Issue 

10, 24 November 2008; 

37 Barabanov, ‘The August War between 

Russia and Georgia’. 





40 Vladimir Karnozov and Niall O’Keefe, 

‘Conflict May Trigger Russian Upgrde’, 

Flight International, Vol. 174, No. 5152, 19- 

25 August 2008, p. 9. 

41 Speech accessed at: President.kremlin. 

ru, 26 September 2008. 

42 Mikhail Barabanov, ‘Reform of the 

Combat Spirit’, Kommersant-Vlast 

(Moscow), 20 October 2008. 

43 Barabanov, ‘Reform of the Combat 

Spirit’. 

44 Barabanov, ‘Reform of the Combat 

Spirit’. See also Denis Telmanov, 

‘Divisions to be Cut into Pieces: The 

Ministry of Defence is Continuing the 

Reformation of the Organization and 

Staff Structure of Divisions’, Gazeta 

(Moscow), 28 October 2008. 

45 Nikolay Poroskov, ‘Russian CGS Briefs 

Foreign Attaches on Military Reform’, 

Vremya Novostey (Moscow), 11 December 

2008. 

46 See: Viktor Litovkin, ‘In the Armed 

Forces: Troops Without Colour-Bearers’, 

Nezavisimaya Gazeta, 27 October 2008; 

Viktor Baranets, ‘The Airborne Troops 

Have Been Hit by Reform: The Airborne 

Troops Tula Division May Be Disbanded’, 

Komsomolskaya Pravda, 25 October 2008. 

47 ‘Russian Air Force Head Optimistic 

About Force’s Future’, ITAR-TASS, 

Moscow, 19 December 2008. 

48 ‘Russian Air Force Cuts 50,000 

Officers’, Kommersant (Moscow), 21 

November 2008, accessed at: http://www. 

kommersant.com/p-13628/military_ 

reform_Air_Force/. 

49 In combined-arms units they are 

company and battery first sergeants, 

platoon commanders, crew chiefs of 

high-frequency mobile communications 

systems and of field artillery nonvisual 

target acquisition, training unit 

instructors, and battalion paramedics, 

etc. Litovkin, ‘Troops Without Colour- 

Bearers’. 

50 ‘Russia: Commander Outlines Air 

Force Training Reform’, Zvezda TV 

(Moscow), 4 November 2008. 

51 ‘Russian TV Profiles Ryazan Airborne 

Troops Academy’, Rossiya TV (Moscow), 

15 November 2008. 

52 ‘Russian Airborne Troops Commander 

Reports to Military Council’, Interfax 


53 ‘Russian Air Force Spokesman Says 

Quarter of Conscripts Suicidal’, Interfax 


54 Authors’ emphasis; ‘Russian Air Force 

Spokesman Says Quarter of Conscripts 

Suicidal’. 

55 ‘The Russian Air Force Recovering’, 

RIA Novosti, 14 August 2008. 

56 Dmitry Solovyov, ‘Russian Army Not 

Fit for Modern War: Top General’, Reuters, 

16 December 2008. 

57 Colonel-General Aleksandr Zelin, 

Commander-in-Chief of the VVS, said 

that Su-35 is essentially an export version 

of the Su-27. It has fifth-generation 

technology widely used on it; its new 

engine, 117S, allows it to fly at supersonic 

speed without afterburner use. It also 

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112 

has vectored-thrust engine nozzles. Its 

other systems are identified as the Irbis- 

E phased-array radar, two MFI-35 colour 

LCDs, a multi-function module with 

a built-in display processor, IKSh-1M 

head-up display and a control module. 

The fifth-generation fighter aircraft will 

begin to enter service from 2015-2017 at 

the earliest. Currently there is just one 

Su-35, with two more ‘to be completed 

soon’ with service deliveries of the Su-35 

planned around 2010-2011. ‘Russian TV 

Adds Detail on Su-35 Fighter Aircraft’, 

NTV Mir, Moscow, 14 September 2008. 

58 V.M. Burenok, ‘The State Armaments 

Programme: Development 

Methodology’, Military Thought, March- 

April, 2004; ‘Russian Armed Forces Chief 

of Armaments Interviewed’, Krasnaya 

Zvezda, 2 October 2008. 

59 ‘Russian Armed Forces’ Chief of 

Armament Interviewed,” Krasnaya 


60 “Russia to Modernize Tu-143 

Reconnaissance Drone’, Interfax, 


61 Reuben F. Johnson, ‘Georgia 

Experience Sparks Russian UAV Order’, 

Jane’s International Defence Review, Vol. 41, 


62 Mikhail Lukin and Vladimir Savin, ‘All 

Russian Aviation’, Kommersant-Vlast, 25 

August 2008. 

63 Aminov, ‘Georgia’s Air Defence in the 

War with South Ossetia’. 

64 Jamie Hunter, ‘Loss of ‘Backfire’ 

Over Georgia Highlights Aircraft’s 

Deficiencies’, Jane’s International Defence 

Review, Vol. 41, November 2008, p. 25. 

65 Sergey Ptichkin, ‘Visible-Invisible’, 

Rossiyskaya Gazeta, (Moscow), 11 


66 Ptichkin, ‘Visible-Invisible’. 

67 ‘Russia to Complete ‘State Trials’ 

of Mi-28N Night Hunter Helicopter 

in December’, Interfax (Moscow), 1 

December 2008. 

68 ‘Russian Armed Forces’ Chief of 

Armament Interviewed’, Krasnaya 


69 Denise Hammick, ‘Russia Withdraws 

from Georgian Buffer Zones’, Jane’s 

Defence Weekly, Vol. 45, No. 42, 15 

October 2008, p. 6; ‘Georgia: The Risks 

of Winter’, p. 9. 

70 Brooks Tigner, ‘Georgian Crisis 

Sparks Energy Security Debate’, Jane’s 

Defence Weekly, Vol. 45, No. 43, 22 

October 2008, p. 28.

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By Gp Capt Carl Scott

On October 29 2008, the 

New York Times reported 

Defence Secretary Robert 

Gates comments before the Carnegie 

Endowment for International Peace 

that the United States would hold 

“fully accountable” any country 

or group that helped terrorists to 

acquire or use nuclear, chemical or 

biological weapons. The statement 

was intended to articulate a 

reinvigorated vision of deterrence, 

going beyond the cold war notion 

that a president could respond 

with overwhelming force against 

a country that directly attacked 

the United States or its allies with 

unconventional weapons. Gates 

went on to say: 

“Today we also make clear that 

the United States will hold any 

state, terrorist group or other 

non-state actor or individual fully 

accountable for supporting or 

enabling terrorist efforts to obtain 

or use weapons of mass destruction 

— whether by facilitating, financing 

or providing expertise or safe 

haven for such efforts,” 

He said it was important to 

modernise the nation’s nuclear 

arsenal as a hedge against what he 

described as “rising and resurgent 

powers” like Russia or China, as well 

as “rogue nations” like Iran or North 

Korea and international terrorists. By 

declaring that those who facilitated a 

terrorist attack would be held “fully 

accountable,” Mr. Gates left the door 

open to diplomatic and economic 

responses as well as military ones. 

And, to be sure, the United States 

has acted forcefully before against 

those who sheltered terrorists, with 

the invasion of Afghanistan to oust 

Al Qaeda and its Taliban government 

supporters after the attacks of 

September 11 th 2001. 

In the wake of a series of attacks by 

US air and ground forces in 

Pakistan, senior officials also 

sought to justify an attack against a 

suspected Iraqi insurgent leader in 

Syria on 25 th October by saying that 

the administration was operating 

under an expansive new definition 

of self-defence. The policy, officials 

said, provided a rationale for 

conventional strikes on militant 

targets in a sovereign nation without 

its consent - if that nation were 

unable or unwilling to halt the 

threat on its own. 

This could represent a dangerous 

escalation in US preparedness to 

use force, potentially outside of 

the bounds of international law 

and accepted practice, further 

destabilising marginal states and 

isolating the US from its putative 

allies, or as the basis for a new 

dialogue with potential adversaries: 

strategic coercion. 

Deterrence in the 

contemporary world 

‘The best victory is when the opponent 

surrenders of its own accord before 

there are any actual hostilities. It is 

best to win without fighting… …There 

has never been a protracted war from 

which a country has benefited.’ 

Sun Tzu 

There can be no doubt, that deterring 

conflict, as a strategy, is infinitely 

superior to committing forces to the 

field. From Sun Tzu to the present, 

by way of the great clashes of the 

twentieth century, it has been noted 

that once committed, no side wins, 

resources are consumed, moral and 

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116 

political capital expended. Empires 

fall at the point of victory, unable to 

absorb the costs of peace. The map 

of Europe in 1900, resplendent with 

Imperial Eagles and preening martial 

pride, bears little resemblance to that 

of 2000. The victors and vanquished 

alike have disappeared from the 

global stage. A few pale shadows 

linger; a post-industrial, postimperial 

Britain bears the name of 

its Imperial antecedent, though none 

of the influence. The Saxe-Coburg- 

Gothas are mute alongside the 

Hapsburgs and Romanovs. History 

is littered with the bones of great 

Emperors and their loyal Generals. 

Great bellicose leviathons have 

consumed decades of cultural growth, 

the lives of millions of innocents and 

the product of years of industry, then 

lapsed into deserved obscurity. 

Now, in turn, the modest liberal 

democracies, founded on sound 

principles of freedom and 

empowerment of the common man, 

are following the parade of ancestors 

into imperial overstretch, deluded 

by a neo-conservative fantasy of 

unbounded power. 

‘…alarm bells are ringing throughout 

the US Defense community as the 

realization sinks in that the Defense 

Department is facing the makings of 

a ‘perfect storm’. Runaway operations 

and maintenance costs due to the wars 

in Iraq and Afghanistan; soaring 

personnel obligations; enormous reset, 

recapitalization and modernization 

needs; intentional growth in the size of 

the Army and Marine Corps and the 

eventual decline of wartime supplemental 

spending will all combine to require the 

Pentagon and Congress to make some 

very difficult choices.’ 1 

The costs are manifold. The direct 

financial cost of warfare is staggering, 

but the lost economic opportunities 

border on the inconceivable; the 

diversion of industrial capacity, 

the focus of the many creative 

attributes of a developed state on the 

technology of force; the destruction 

of lives, besides those merely 

wasted; the consumption of political 

capital, both internally with the rise 

of dissent and fragmentation of 

society as the vacuum of propaganda 

replaces intellectual curiosity and 

diversity, and externally with the loss 

of trading partners and the cultural 

enrichment of engagement. The 

failure of diplomacy that leads to 

conflict also leads to power balancing 

behaviours amongst both opponents 

and uncommitted states. In short: 

Primacy in the international system is 

actively consumed by violent action. 

Strength is respected, by man and 

state, but aggression, the casual resort 

to lethal violence, is not. Friends 

waver and distance themselves, it 

engenders fear in those that may be 

considered enemies. And should the 

war be lost, then the game, the future 

credibility of the belligerent, is lost. 

All is gambled, at great expense, on 

an uncertain outcome. 

It is central to our future, therefore, 

in the United Kingdom and in the 

United States, that we find a means 

of deterring conflict, of coercing 

opponents and assuring friends. 

The alternative is that we continue 

to grind away our own societies and 

our credibility on the global stage in 

sustaining fielded armies in remote 

desert provinces, the ground of our 

enemies choosing, in conflicts that 

are discretionary, but once begun, 

increasingly demanding of blood and 

treasure.

‘We need a new model for deterrence 

theory, and we need it now. Time is 

not on our side. This model must 

possess three particular attributes. 

First, it should espouse the highest 

standards of nuclear preparedness... 

Secondly the model must be credible... 

Lastly any model of deterrence needs 

to address the challenges posed by 

extremists and ideologues…How do we 

deter an idea or a movement?’ 

Adm Michael Mullen, US Navy, 

Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff 

A decade or more ago we moved 

away from the strategy of deterrence 

that had served us well in containing 

the conflict between those favouring 

capitalism and those who held 

greater faith in human nature. It 

was a flawed kind of deterrence, that 

gradually fell into disuse. It was a 

simple thing. You threatened your 

opponent with catastrophic force if 

he acted against you. If he started 

something, you ‘cleaned his clock’ 

as one Chairman of the Joint Chiefs 

of Staff so succinctly put it 2 . This 

glorious simplicity was, of course, 

far from a complete solution to 

the pressures in the international 

system. It offered little, in isolation, 

of reconciliation or recognition of 

cause. Maintaining credibility of the 

threat was challenging. At times it 

demanded studied ‘irrationality’ on 

the part of leaders to add credibility 

to the threat of nuclear war 3 . It forced 

opponents into alternate strategies, 

proxy wars in South East Asia, 

Africa and the Middle-East and the 

exercise of ‘soft power’, diplomatic 

and economic manoeuvring, and 

the sponsoring of deniable actions 

by sub-state groups. It spawned 

decapitation strategies, assassinations 

and the sponsorship of corrupt 

and brutal regimes. All of these 

alternates, flawed as they were, 

offered less damaging alternatives to 

open confrontation between heavily 

armed nation states. But in the 

current environment we have lost 

our appetite for deterrence. The 

damage caused by terrorist attacks, 

frequently insignificant compared 

to the carnage ensuing the clash 

of armies, have been deemed 

sufficiently important to warrant the 

deployment of armies to foreign soil 

and, ultimately, far greater cost and 

loss of life to all the protagonists. 

The banal enthusiasm with which 

neoconservative politicians in the 

United States over-estimated the 

ability of armed force to resolve 

complex issues, has paled as they 

were driven from office. In their 

wake, the Nation faces a greater 

challenge. If operations in Iraq and 

Afghanistan are curtailed, without 

conspicuous success, then the 

deterrent effect of their power is 

weakened further. If the struggle is 

continued indefinitely, the costs in 

blood and treasure grossly outweigh 

any potential benefit. Therefore, the 

need now is to develop a theory of 

deterrence that meets the challenge 

of the current environment. 

There is a residue of deterrence 

theory available, though much may 

need to be refreshed and much 

discarded. Dealing with existential 

threats posed by accountable, 

identifiable nation states remains a 

relatively simple transaction. Nuclear 

weapons deter such threats. It may 

be the only utility they hold, but it 

should not be undervalued. The work 

undertaken by Gen Elder and the US 

8th Air Force, is addressing many of 

the challenges. The model he offers 

for nuclear deterrence is familiar: 

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118 

Deterrence Operations 

The fundamental challenge is to 

provide a credible threat that 

deters a course of action by making 

the costs outweigh the benefits. 

That is dependent on displaying 

capability and the will to employ 

it, a capability which is sufficiently 

nuanced that its use would be 

legitimate, deliverable and 

damaging to the opponent. The 

messaging element is a dialogue to 

define the bounds of tolerable 

behaviour, with a clear 

understanding of the ramifications 

of crossing that line. A defensive 

element of the strategy is to ensure 

the benefits of hostile action are 

largely denied to the opponent, whilst 

our offensive action would impose 

unacceptable costs. The difficulties 

of messaging and interpreting the 

decision-making personalities and 

processes of the target state are 

managed by a cadre of culturally 

aware intelligence specialists, 

trained in language, history and 

politics of the target state. The same 

model is used by the nascent USAF 

24 th Air Force to provide a basis for 

cyber deterrence. 

The defensive and aggressive 

elements of the deterrent process 

are direct equivalents of the nuclear 

scenario, mission assurance to deny 

the access required by the cyber 

attacker, and the identification 

and response to attacks to impose 

costs. A useful beginning, 

but only a beginning. The 

underlying assumption is that the 

dialogue occurs between single, 

hierarchical entities, which have 

managed exchange of red lines 

and signalling. But how do you 

deter unilateral, unsponsored 

‘proxy’ action, or non-state actors 

without identifiable sponsor states, 

disrupting through cyber attack? 

Cyber Detterence 

The same questions are compounded 

when considering kinetic action by 

non state actors. How do you deter 

an opponent, one who feels his core 

values are sufficiently challenged 

that he is prepared to seek 

martyrdom as a desirable outcome? 

How indeed, do you deter an idea? 

These are the challenges of the 

next few years: To understand the 

nature of the challengers, to identify 

the decision-making processes 

that inform their actions, to 

understand the demographic they 

represent, their aspirations and 

values, and address the cost and 

benefit calculus that will encourage, 

or inhibit their behaviours.

It is not that it is difficult, therefore 

cannot be done. The alternate 

is unacceptable because it is 

unsustainable and is reducing our 

own power and the quality of life 

in our own societies. It is difficult, 

but it is essential. Issues of identity, 

accountability, anonymity, deniability 

need to be addressed. The decision 

making processes of our challengers 

can be understood. They are rational. 

A dialogue with such entities can 

be achieved. It may not require the 

traditional channels of diplomacy to 

reach them, but then these channels 

themselves are a transient product 

of a particular European system for 

exchange between monarchs. They 

are neither timeless nor immutable. 

How do we begin to construct a 

doctrine for ‘non state’ deterrence? 

One might suggest that it has always 

existed. It exists within states, where 

recourse to lethal force is reserved 

for the state, where laws exist and 

are enforced. When the Khans built 

pyramids of skulls, city states fell 

into compliance. In Hama in Syria, 

when an assassination attempt on 

a minister signalled the beginning 

of Islamic unrest, a great tract of the 

city was levelled. In the wake of the 

troops, the buildings were bulldozed 

and the population driven into exile. 

There was no further internal dissent. 

Whilst superficially effective, 

suchactions are not sustainable 

on the global stage, or by liberal 

democracies, accountable to the 

aspirations of their populations, 

allies and international law. It 

may, therefore, be necessary to 

consider some guidelines for the 

emergent doctrine. 

The 8th Air Force, again, have 

identified a number of ‘lost arts’ of 

deterrence. Aspects of the calculus 

that have been neglected, which offer 

an immediate path to ensure state 

to state ‘peer’ deterrence, but also 

offer road signs, pointing toward the 

demands of more complex dialogue. 

• Adversary analysis. It is 

necessary to understand, in 

intimate detail, the culture, 

psychology and history of an 

opponent. To predict the 

outcomes of our signals and 

to anticipate the calculus, 

the values, he will employ. To 

understand the processes 

by which decisions are made 

and enacted. 

• Mission Assurance. The ability 

to safeguard a capability and 

deliver, with confidence, the 

required effect. 

• Escalation control. The 

dialogue is central to ensuring 

that both antagonists are able 

to understand the level of 

force their behaviours will 

precipitate, without automatic 

recourse to mutually 

ensured destruction. 

• Managing ambiguity 

(‘redlines’). Actors, be they 

states, organisations or 

individuals, behave with a 

least two levels of policy. 

Declaratory policy and 

operational policy. The 

dialogue may be wildly 

threatening, seemingly 

unpredictable, to give 

credence to a threat or 

comfort to the constituency. 

This ambiguity is central to 

the negotiation, but must be 

understood as such. 

• Conventional and non-alert 

deterrence forces. The level 

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120 

and nature of forces deployable 

in the event of a crisis are 

many, all of which contribute to 

a spectrum of potential 

responses and serve to signal 

will and intent. 

• Assure allies. The ramifications 

of action, or even threatened 

action, can resonate through 

friendly and neutral entities. 

• Credibility as function 

of capability and will. The 

will to commit force is central 

to its credibility. The capability 

and the will must be evident to 

an opponent. Our own 

democratic decision making 

constrain and shape the 

nature of activity governments 

can undertake. Illegal, immoral 

or irrational actions generally 

result in a change of 

government, not in a change 

of behaviour in an opponent. 

• Military to military 

engagement as an element of 

deterrence. A keen 

understanding of capability 

and shared understanding of 

objectives shapes thinking 

and advice offered in crisis. 

In the cold war, our opponents 

were very easy to find and 

understand, but difficult to destroy. 

The reverse is true in the current 

operating environment. Our 

opponents, or challengers, are 

dispersed and frequently anonymous. 

They may act in support of the 

interests of a nation state or theology, 

but are not under control of any 

central authority. They are frequently 

post-modern syndicated entities, 

virtual, but with a logic, comparable 

to a franchise, branded but largely 

self-employed. This suggests that 

the most immediate challenge is not 

to destroy the opponent, we have 

more than enough strike capability 

to reach out globally and destroy, but 

to find, to analyse and understand 

his motivation, his decisionmaking 

process and values. Each 

challenger, economic, theological 

or cultural entity, trans or sub-state, 

has a rationale, an identity, and a 

demographic on which they draw 

and a constituency on whose behalf 

they act. For each these must be 

clearly understood and articulated 

to inform the levers which might 

influence behaviour. Pressure may 

then be applied, through potential or 

actual actions, which will coerce in a 

predictable and measurable manner. 

Unconventional Deterrence 

At the core of that challenge is 

the need to identify an opponent. 

The identity, the self-image, that 

motivates him to act, not the 

shorthand language of outrage we 

employ in the press and in politics 

which serves no purpose other to fuel 

righteous indignation. No-one is a 

terrorist, or an extremist. People act 

for a reason. They have a putative 

cause, declaratory and operational 

policy. Understand the nature of 

that identity and that reasoning, 

determine what he holds dear, that

we might hold at risk. It is very rarely 

his life. Determine who holds him 

to account. Who can restrain him, 

and how might we influence them 

to encourage that restraint. Most 

people act on behalf of a constituency, 

it may be a physical, ideological or 

elective community, but they act in 

accord with the logic and values of 

that constituency. 

The next challenge is to ensure 

credibility of the threatened action. 

We know significant force will only 

be employable, in democratic or 

rational states, against an existential 

threat. The pin-prick of small scale 

disruption, designed to cultivate 

fear and pressure social or legal 

changes, to draw resources or 

draw recognition to causes and 

communities may be most effectively 

addressed through dialogue. It 

may require the application of 

pressure to shape that dialogue. That 

pressure may be drawn from any or 

all aspects of state power, but must 

be acceptable to the constituency 

of democratic governments and 

the international community, or it 

will not be deliverable, sustainable 

or effective. A state that assumes 

it may act beyond the law, outside 

the accepted practices of the 

international system, is likely to 

find unanticipated consequences, 

diminution of power and powerbalancing 

behaviours amongst those 

that feel threatened. The lesson 

of Guantanamo Bay is that action 

taken outside of the law diminishes 

us and serves the interest of our 

opponents. It was as true when 

Grotius formulated legal guidance for 

the conduct of War 4 as it was when 

President George W Bush assumed 

the helm of the global superpower. 

A further problem arises in 

considering this coercive dialogue. 

How do you define victory and 

disengage from a conflict, when the 

outcomes, successes and failures, 

are largely unseen and perceptions 

shaped by media? There are no 

parades through Paris, no flags on the 

Reichstag. It is not in our collective 

nature to draw back from a challenge, 

lest we be considered weak, and other 

opponents are encouraged to act. 

‘The British nation can be counted 

upon to carry through to victory any 

struggle that it once enters upon no 

matter how long such a struggle 

may last or however great the sacrifices 

that may be necessary or whatever 

the means that have to be employed; 

and all this even though the actual 

military equipment at hand may be 

utterly inadequate when compared 

with that of other nations.’ 

Adolf Hitler in Mein Kampf 

It may be unwise to exercise the 

national characteristics identified by 

Adolf Hitler, in expressing his wish 

to avoid conflict with Great Britain 

from his Bavarian prison cell. It is a 

recipe for ‘imperial overstretch’ when 

exercised by powerful nations and a 

recipe for disaster when conducted 

by a declining economic power with 

finite resources and significant legacy 

opponents from its age of greatness. 

Fortunately the United Kingdom 

has an alternate history of managing 

perceptions to its advantage. It would 

be difficult, for example, to find cause 

for celebration in the British handling 

of affairs, military and political, in 

Palestine, Cyprus, Northern Ireland, 

Mesopotamia, Kenya, India, Southern 

Africa and the Americas. And yet we 

pride ourselves on a reputation for 

the conduct of counter insurgency 

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operations. Clearly it can be done. 

Success is a matter of perception. 

We might summarise these 

considerations for coercion and 

deterrence in the contemporary 

environment as: Analyse, identify, 

understand, influence. 

• Understand the nature of 

Identity, address real actors, 

not ghosts, pre-conceptions 

or clichés. The military 

cannot afford the luxury of 

indolence afforded politicians 

and the media. 

• Legality and international 

norms of behaviour are 

non discretionary. 

• Understand the nature of 

power and the limits of 

military force. Attraction is 

greater than repulsion in 

shaping behaviour. 

• Acknowledging legitimacy 

in cause. The roots of 

conflict resolution lie in the 

cause and conduct of the 

operation. Address root 

causes, not symptoms. 

• Manage Perceptions. A 

critical element, speaking 

to your own constituency, 

your allies and that of your 

opponent. Defining and 

communicating success. 

These are a few faltering steps 

toward the challenges we must 

address. When politicians speak 

without wit or wisdom, when 

international relations are governed 

by sound-bites masquerading 

as policy, it is for the military to 

understand what might be 

achieved, what might be delivered 

and that which cannot. To draw 

our Nations into unwinnable, 

unsustainable conflicts is, at best, 

negligent, and at worst vainglorious 

and self-destructive. 

The final words in this piece are 

drawn from Grotius, writing in 

the 17 th century, quoting in turn 

from Tacitus in the first. There are 

constants in our historical tradition, 

which we ignore at our peril. 

‘One cannot but admire the character, 

which Tacitus has drawn of the Chauci, 

a noble and high-spirited people of 

Germany, who, he says, “were desirous 

of maintaining their greatness by justice, 

rather than by acts of ungovernable 

rapacity and ambition — provoking no 

wars, invading no countries, spoiling no 

neighbours to aggrandize themselves, 

— yet, when necessity prompted, able to 

raise men with arms in their hands at a 

moment’s warning — a great population 

with a numerous breed of horses to 

form a well mounted cavalry-and, with 

all these advantages, upholding their 

reputation in the midst of peace.” ‘ 

Hugo Grotius (1583-1645) 

‘On the Law of War and Peace’ 

Chapter 22: On the Unjust Causes of War. 

‘Upholding their reputation in the 

midst of peace’… the very essence 

of deterrence. 

The author is grateful to: 

Gen Schwartz, COSAF, for his address 

at the AFA Conference in Washington 

DC and the RAF US conference in the 

same city. 

Lt Gen Elder (Commander USAF 8 th Air 

force) for his addresses at the ‘Cyber 

Awareness Conference’ Shreveport 

Louisiana, and the RAF US Conference 

in Washington DC, both in October 08. 

Maj Gen Lord (AF Cyber transition) 

USAF for his address at the same 

conference in Shreveport Louisiana.

Gen (ret’d) Hayden (Director CIA) for 

his address at the AFA Conference in 

Washington DC. 

Professor Yezid Sayigh, KCL. 

Joint Force Quarterly, 4 th Quarter, 2008. 

‘It’s Time For a New Deterrence Model’ 

Michael Mullen, Admiral US Navy, 

Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. 

Boston Globe, September 30, 2008. 

‘Avoiding the Choices of 1914 and !938’. 

HDS Greenaway, reporting the views of 

Secretary Gates. 

New York Times, October 29, 2008 

‘Gates Gives Rationale For Expanded 

Deterrence’ Thom Shanker. 

For an engaging perspective on the 

nature and role of identity, see Amin 

Maalouf, ‘In the name of identity: 

Violence and the Need to Belong’ (2003). 

Dated, but valuable studies of coercion in 

diplomacy: 

‘The Limits of Coercive Diplomacy’ by 

Alexander L., David K. Hall, and William 

E. Simons George (1971) 

‘Strategic Coercion: Concepts and Cases’ 

by Lawrence Freedman (1998) 

Notes 

1 Michele A Flourney and Shawn 

Brimley, Centre for New American 

Security, September 2008. 

2 General John Vessey, CJCS 1982-5 

3 President JFK was keenly aware, 

during the Cuban Missile Crisis that 

he had to appear unreasonable, less 

the Soviet Union call his bluff on 

nuclear options. 

4 Hugo Grotius, On the Law of War 

and Peace ‘De Jure Belli ac Pacis’ 

Translated by A. C. Campbell London, 

1814 

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‘I am utterly convinced that the 

outstanding and vital lesson of the last 

war is that air power is the dominant 

factor in this modern world and that, 

though the methods of exercising it will 

change, it will remain the dominant 

factor so long as power determines the 

fate of nations.’ 1 

Air Power in War 

Lord Tedder 

Publisher: Hodder and Stoughton, London (1947) 

This bold and confident 

statement comes from another 

of the very few books to be 

written by an individual who would 

go on to reach the senior-most 

position within the Royal Air Force, 

and who has subsequently been 

described as ‘…an unusual officer, 

far outside the normal mould for 

senior military figures.’ 2 Perhaps best 

known as the architect of air/land 

integration in North Africa in 1942, 

he also acted as Eisenhower’s Deputy 

in the Supreme Commander role, 

and ended his Service career as CAS, 

succeeding Portal in the post in 1946. 

He was atypical of his generation 

inasmuch as he was one of the few 

wartime officers from the First World 

War to reach senior rank without 

having been decorated for gallantry, 

although he had a considerable 

period of active service at the front. 

As with theother reviews in this 

series, an overview of Lord Tedder’s 

life is provided before considering 

the publication itself; in this case 

however, as Tedder’s wartime career 

is well known to most students of air 

Reviewed by Air Cdre Neville Parton 

power, the synopsis will concentrate 

on those aspects of his life that are 

perhaps less recognized. 

So let us begin by considering the 

man himself. Arthur William Tedder 

was born on 11 July 1890 at Glenguin 

(now Glengoyne), a distillery near 

Stirling in Scotland, where his 

father was stationed as a member 

of the Inland Revenue. He attended 

Whitgift School from 1902 to 1909, 

and was a particularly keen member 

of the Officer Training Corps, as well 

as a cross-country runner and first 

XV member for two years. Here he 

became fascinated by astronomy, 

and also developed an enthusiasm 

for theatre, both as an actor and 

organiser. From school he proceeded 

to read for a history degree at 

Magdelene College, Cambridge, 

between 1909 and 1912, where again 

he was an enthusiastic member 

of the OTC, and also maintained 

his interests in cross-country 

running and astronomy. 3 Although 

a teetotaller throughout these early 

years, he was given to student pranks 

through his time at Cambridge, but 

still managed a creditable 2 nd -class 

Honours (Division 2) in history, and 

stayed on for a further year to carry 

out a research project. The latter 

resulted in his winning the Prince 

Consort Prize, with the thesis work 

being published by the Cambridge 

University Press in 1916. 4 Despite his

clear academic aptitude, and liberal 

leanings, he decided, much to his 

family’s surprise, to make a career 

for himself within the Colonial 

Office, and was accepted as a cadet 

for initial service in Fiji, leaving in 

February 1914. Within six months 

though the outbreak of war prompted 

Tedder to return to Britain, where 

he was offered a commission in 

the Dorsetshire Regiment with 

antedated seniority (a reflection 

on his successful OTC service). 

However, a knee injury resulted in 

a posting not to the front line, but 

to a depot at Calais. Having heard 

of another individual who became 

an airman after damaging his knee, 

Tedder applied to the Royal Flying 

Corps (RFC) for a transfer, and was 

(eventually) successful, being posted 

for pilot training in January 1916. 5 

He made rapid progress in training 

and left for France in June 1916, to 

join No 25 Squadron, operating the 

FE 2b aircraft. By August he had 

become a flight commander, and by 

December 1916 had some 323 hours 

under his belt, covering a range 

of bombing and reconnaissance 

missions. However, in January 1917 

he was posted as the Commanding 

Officer of No 70 Squadron, on 

promotion to major. Forbidden to fly 

over enemy territory, as was standard 

for squadron COs at the time, he 

was still able to demonstrate that he 

was an efficient and capable leader, 

and certainly caught Trenchard’s 

eye in a favourable manner. In July 

1917 he was returned to the UK 

to command a training squadron, 

but in March 1918 was selected for 

service in Egypt. The journey out 

was eventful – his ship having been 

torpedoed on the second day of the 

journey – but he arrived in mid-May 

and took over a training wing. He 

was not a particularly keen pilot, but 

ran the training organisation again in 

a quietly efficient manner, and was 

promoted to lieutenant colonel. 

Returning to the UK in 1919, 

Tedder was fortunate to be offered 

a permanent commission as a 

squadron leader, and had two 

squadron commands in quick 

succession, before being charged 

to take No 207 Squadron, operating 

DH 9a aircraft, out to Constantinople 

as a result of the Chanak crisis 

– during which he managed to fall 

foul of Hugh Dowding. 6 Subsequent 

appointments included the Royal 

Naval Staff College at Greenwich in 

1923, and then, on promotion to wing 

commander, a flying training school 

at Digby the following year. A brief 

interlude in the Air Ministry began 

in late 1926, working for Dowding, 

but the following year he was 

selected to attend the Imperial 

Defence College, commencing in 

January 1928, before moving on tobe 

an instructor at the RAF Staff College 

in 1929, where he would spend three 

happy years. Promoted to group 

captain in 1931, he became the 

deputy commandant for a short while 

before moving to the Armament 

and Gunnery School at Eastchurch, 

where he brought a much-needed 

sense of realism and operational 

efficiency – even monitoring the 

aerial exercises from his own aircraft. 

He had obviously continued to 

impress the RAF hierarchy, as he 

left Eastchurch to return to the Air 

Ministry as Director of Training in 

1934, in the rank of air commodore. 

Tours of overseas training bases 

followed, as well as reviews of 

training methods and equipment; 

unsurprisingly, Tedder was the 

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individual responsible for the initial 

procurement of Link Trainers for the 

RAF. Finally, in 1936, Tedder gained 

his first operational command since 

the war, as Air Officer Commanding 

RAF Far East, based at Singapore. 

This was to be a hectic posting, with 

a command that reflected all the 

problems of both the lack of interservice 

co-operation and inadequate 

(in fact, antiquated!) assets, as well 

as a growing realisation of the 

difficulties of defending Singapore 

from any modern enemy. 7 However, 

he was promoted to air vice-marshal 

during the tour, and made a number 

of recommendations to improve the 

capability of what little air power 

existed, as well as allowing for 

rapid reinforcement. 

In 1938, Tedder was summonsed 

back to the Air Ministry by one 

of his patrons, Air Marshal Sir 

Wilfred Freeman, to join him in 

the Directorate of Research and 

Development, where he was to 

become involved with the desperate 

rush to not only expand the RAF, 

but also to re-arm it with modern 

and capable aircraft and weapons. 

He performed well in this role, 

which included moving the entire 

department to Harrogate at short 

notice, at least until the arrival of 

Lord Beaverbrook, with whom 

there was a considerable amount of 

mutual antipathy. After a degree of 

political interference, and a fortunate 

break, Tedder was appointed as the 

Deputy to Air Chief Marshal Sir 

Arthur Longmore at Middle East 

Air Command in November 1940. 8 

He would spend three years in the 

Middle East, taking over as the 

Air Officer Commanding-in-Chief 

in May 1941 when Longmore was 

removed from post, and during 

this period successfully forged 

– or perhaps re-developed – the 

principals of effective integration of 

air and land forces. As has already 

been stated, the rest of Tedder’s 

wartime career will not be covered 

here, but it is worth noting that he 

was not a natural choice as a wartime 

commander: Churchill was initially 

concerned by his lack of command 

and operational experience during 

the inter-war years, where he had 

spent a considerable amount of time 

in either the training or procurement 

worlds. The ‘outstanding national 

and allied commander’ appeared 

from a background that did little to 

suggest his tremendous capacity for 

inspirational leadership and driving 

inter-service co-operation. 

His post-Air Force career, reflecting 

his breadth of interests, spanned a 

variety of areas. Having taken up 

an appointment as one of six BBC 

governors on departing the Service 

at the end of 1949, he was surprised 

to be asked to accept a one-year 

appointment within three months 

as the head of joint-services in 

Washington, and then as Britain’s first 

representative on a newly formed 

NATO executive committee. A year 

later, in June 1951, he was installed 

as the Chancellor of Cambridge 

University, a position which gave him 

a tremendous degree of personal 

pleasure, second only to becoming 

President of Surrey County Cricket 

Club in 1953. Tedder also became 

involved in business, as a director 

and chairmen of the Standard 

Motor Company (later to become 

Standard Triumph International). He 

maintained a life-long friendship 

and close correspondence with 

Eisenhower, and also stayed close to 

the issue of facilities for other ranks

in the form of the Malcolm Clubs, 

which he and his second wife, Toppy, 

fought hard to maintain even as his 

health began to fail. In many ways 

he had a life that was oft-touched 

with sadness: both his first and 

second wives pre-deceased him, 

and he lost both a son and step-son 

in RAF service. 9 Yet throughout his 

life, and even while battling against 

Parkinson’s disease at the end, he 

remained full of both humour and 

enthusiasm. Any readers who wish 

to gain a deeper understanding of 

Tedder are strongly recommended 

to read Vincent Orange’s biography, 

Tedder: Quietly in Command, as well as 

With Prejudice, his war-time memoirs. 

Having thus learnt something of 

Tedder as an individual, we now 

need to turn to Air Power in War. The 

book itself was based upon a series 

of four lectures given by Tedder at 

Cambridge in 1947, who had been 

invited to give the annual Lees 

Knowles lectures in military science 

that year. 10 An official version was 

produced by His Majesty’s Stationary 

Office, as well as the publiclyavailable 

publication from Hodder 

and Stoughton upon which this 

review is based – although there is 

very little difference between them. 

Given its origin, it will perhaps not 

come as a surprise that it is organised 

into only four chapters – based upon 

the lectures – nor that it is quite short, 

running only to 124 pages, and is 

eminently readable. The four chapter 

headings covered The Unities of War, 

Air Superiority, Air Power in Relation 

to Sea Power, and The Exercise of Air 

Power, and each chapter was longer 

than its predecessor, with the final 

chapter coming in at two-and-a-half 

times the length of the first – from 

which it is possible to gain a first 

impression as to where Tedder placed 

the main emphasis of his work. 

The first short chapter, on the unities 

of war, clearly lays out Tedder’s stall. 

Using sources ranging from Sun 

Tzu to Bacon and Liddell-Hart, it 

elegantly introduces one of his key 

themes – that of preparedness for 

whatever conflicts the future might 

bring. He begins with a highly cogent 

quote from Mahan: 

‘It behoves countries whose people, 

like all free peoples, object to paying 

for large military establishments, 

to see to it that they are at least 

strong enough to gain the time to 

turn the spirit and capacity of their 

subjects into the new activities 

which war calls for.’ 11 

The importance of being able to ‘gain 

the time’ to prepare for a conflict was 

then contrasted with the traditional 

British approach of relying on her 

naval forces for security, and having 

an army only for Imperial policing, 

becoming involved in Europe as little 

or as much as we desired. However, 

all that had changed in 1914, when we 

became a de facto continental power, 

and were faced with the challenge 

– now in three very different 

environments – of being ready to 

buy time in the event of a crisis. 

A slight diversion was provided by 

mention of the introduction of atomic 

weapons onto the scene, and after 

commenting on the coining of the 

phrase ‘weapon of mass destruction’, 

Tedder went on to outline his own 

thoughts in this area: 

‘I do hope we shall not dress up our 

attitude towards atomic warfare in any 

similar camouflage of morality 

[referring to the denigration of 

gunpowder by knights in the Middle 

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128 

Ages]…let us face up frankly to the hard 

fact that the use of this new weapon is 

not a question of morality, but is simply 

and crudely a threat to the very existence 

of civilisation.’ 12 

It was clear that he saw expediency 

rather than morality as the best 

defence, in that it would be too 

‘awful’ to be used, which was 

perhaps a trifle naïve given the 

destruction wrought by conventional 

bombers during the war which he 

had been so intimately involved with. 

However, he returned to his main 

theme by considering what lessons 

we should draw from the war that 

had justbeen fought, and sounded a 

particularly cautionary note: 

‘Sometimes I feel we have a tendency 

to concentrate too much on our 

successes and our enemies’ failures and 

consequently to draw our lessons too 

much from the final stages of the war. 

I suggest there is a danger in this… 

Surely it is the problems of the early 

stages of the war which we should 

study…Here is the real and vital test 

of our defence policies.’ 

The ‘real and vital test’ was then 

linked to the Munich crisis, where it 

was clear that Britain was not ready, 

and desperately needed both the year 

which Chamberlain bought as well 

as the eight months of the ‘phoney 

war’. However, having come close 

on two previous occasions (i.e. the 

World Wars), Tedder’s clear concern 

was that we should not end up in 

such a position again. His belief was 

that any future war would be both 

total and world-wide, and that this 

would require a different approach to 

‘economy’ in peace-time, with the aim 

of having united and efficient armed 

forces, able to work co-operatively 

rather than in competition, and 

thereby ready to act swiftly as ‘one of 

the world’s policemen.’ 

The second chapter, covering air 

superiority, was also relatively short, 

and considered the subject from a 

particularly practical perspective. 

Air power was defined as the ability 

to use the available air space as you 

wished, while denying its use to the 

enemy. However, in order to exercise 

air power, air superiority had to be 

achieved – and indeed the same held 

true at sea even from relatively early 

on in the war – in that sea power 

could not be exercised without 

sufficient air superiority. The fight 

for air superiority though had to be 

regarded as a campaign rather than 

a battle, with the added problem that 

those being supported on the surface 

often did not feel secure unless they 

could see the Air Force over them. 

The Germans were perceived to have 

had a simple approach to this in the 

early days of the war, using all-out 

surprise attacks to destroy any air 

opposition, followed by destruction 

of aircraft factories to prevent the 

force being re-equipped or rebuilt. 

However, in the Battle of Britain they 

were not able to gain air superiority 

from the outset, and then moved 

to stages in their campaign which 

required such superiority in order to 

be a success. 

A strong case was made for the fact 

that comparisons of relative strengths 

of opposing air forces were not as 

simple a guide to likely superiority as 

was the case with land or sea forces: 

‘There is in fact no rule-of-thumb 

solution to the problem of securing air 

superiority, no simple formula…it is not 

capable of any precise or mathematical 

assessment. Orders of battle may be a 

very misleading criteria…I could only

say I “thought” and “felt” that the air 

situation would be all right…’ 13 

Tedder then identified that the prewar 

RAF belief in the importance 

of the offensive was correct by 

considering what happened as the 

Germans diverted more and more of 

their effort onto defensive measures, 

in that while their ability to produce 

aircraft, and in particular fighters, 

steadily increased throughout the 

war, they were not able to make 

use of them. He cogently pointed 

out that in the third quarter of 1944, 

German monthly fighter production 

was higher than that of the British 

and American aircraft industries 

combined, and yet at this time 

the Allies had almost absolute air 

superiority, which, as Speer pointed 

out, was simply because as soon as 

the aircraft were produced the Allies 

destroyed them. In Tedder’s words: 

‘I emphasise this point because it is a 

principle fundamental to any 

understanding of air power. An air 

force composed of fighters alone is 

not an air force, and is not a defence…’ 14 

From this perspective, the strategic 

air offensive forced the Luftwaffe to 

fight for air superiority over its own 

‘vital living space’ by day and night 

which, in conjunction with events 

on the Eastern front, effectively led 

to the organisation being bled dry 

of experienced aircrew. A keen fan 

of General Smuts, Tedder concluded 

by quoting his comments from the 

First World War regarding the need 

to secure ‘air predominance’, before 

finishing with his own thoughts: 

‘One sometimes hears it said that the 

air battle must be won first, before 

land or sea operations can take place; 

that can be misleading: air superiority 

must be established, and the greater the 

degree of that superiority the better, but 

the air battle is continuous, and when it 

is won the war is all but won.’ 

Chapter three concentrated on the 

relationship between air power 

and sea power, and the differences 

that had become evident in terms 

of traditional understandings of 

how sea power operated. Although 

longer than the previous chapters, 

it did contain a considerable degree 

of repetition. Taking examples from 

the Norwegian and Mediterranean 

campaigns, the case was strongly 

made that sea power could no longer 

operate unless it had sufficient 

air superiority, with losses of 

significant capital ships an inevitable 

consequence of operating within 

an area where the enemy had clear 

control of the air. Operations around 

Crete were examined in some detail, 

with Tedder’s deduction that: 

‘The price in surface ships was three 

cruisers and six destroyers sunk; one 

battleship, one aircraft carrier, three 

cruisers and one destroyer seriously 

damaged; and one battleship, four 

cruisers and six destroyers in need of 

extensive repairs…[once again] 

magnificent, but not war…to operate 

surface ships under an enemy air 

superiority… which was unchallengeable 

– this was clearly no longer an operation 

of war.’ 

The successful action at Dunkirk, 

where a barely-sufficient level of air 

superiority enabled the evacuation 

flotilla to operate with a tolerable 

level of losses, was contrasted with 

Tunis in 1943, where clear Allied air 

superiority combined with sea power 

resulted in the capture of 248,000 

German and Italian servicemen due 

to a complete inability of the enemy 

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130 

to evacuate by sea or air. Positive 

examples were also cited, such as 

the official attribution of shipping 

losses in the Baltic and North-West 

European sea-board North of the 

Straits of Dover, which concluded 

that 88 per cent of the 2,471 enemy 

ships sunk or damaged were due to 

aircraft action. 

Consideration was also given to the 

Pacific and U-boat campaigns. The 

former was considered to be a special 

case due to the great ranges involved, 

which made the use of carrier 

aviation a prerequisite. However, 

the continued advantage in terms of 

performance of land-based aircraft 

was also noted. Examination of the 

U-boat problem culminated with a 

graph which showed the increasing 

proportion of U-boat casualties 

caused by air compared with surface 

vessels, where, from 1943 onwards, 

aircraft scored the majority of 

successes in every year. 15 This element 

ended with a short exposition on the 

‘fleet in being’ and its likely future 

influence, given that the majority 

of capital ships on all sides had 

fallen prey to aircraft or submarines 

– with of course a significant number 

coming to ignominious ends in ‘safe’ 

harbours or anchorages. No final 

conclusion was reached, other than 

that the lessons of the war needed 

to be carefully considered alongside 

scientific assessments of impending 

possibilities, with the emphasis on 

being ready for the future. 

The final chapter pulled all of the 

preceding elements together, and 

made the case for air power in a 

compelling manner, perhaps being 

one of the first publications after 

the Second World War to include a 

considerable degree of factual detail 

regarding the actual impact on the 

German war effort produced by the 

Allied Air Forces. Although Tedder 

began by making clear that he did 

not believe that air power by itself 

could win wars, and that it was the 

balance between the three arms of 

defence which was important, the 

bulk of the chapter was spent in 

determining how much air power 

could contribute towards winning 

a war. The extreme flexibility of air 

power was identified as one of its 

‘dominant characteristics’, which in 

conjunction with centralised control 

allowed a power of concentration 

that was ‘unequalled’ by any other 

form of warfare. The changing 

approach towards the bomber 

over the course of the war from 

the other services and government 

perspectives was noted, moving from 

what was initially perceived as an 

extravagance to become an essential 

element in almost all campaign 

plans – and the consequent danger 

of dispersal and waste of effort due 

to too many calls upon the force. As 

Tedder put it himself: 

‘Air warfare cannot be separated into 

little packets; it knows no boundaries 

on land or sea other than those 

imposed by the radius of action of 

the aircraft; it is a unity and demands 

unity of command.’ 16 

The idea of the Air Force going off 

to fight some form of private war, 

somehow removed from that of the 

rest of the forces, was also addressed 

– and firmly rebutted, with a clear 

exposition of just how much advice, 

guidance and control was provided 

by other military and government 

leaders via a range of committees. 

Perhaps the only slightly discordant 

note was an exposition on the value

of an air force in counter-insurgency 

operations, although this was 

relatively brief. 

An overview of the Allied bomber 

offensive against Germany was 

provided, which formed the 

largest part of the chapter – and 

was introduced, with perhaps a 

wry smile on Tedder’s face as he 

delivered the words, by comparing 

the first directive issued to Bomber 

Command in 1940 after the German 

invasion of the West (i.e. France), 

with the last directive issued to the 

Anglo-American strategic bomber 

forces – both giving oil and lines 

of communication as the priority 

targets. His point was that bombing 

policy had swung through a huge 

circle. The differing types of target 

sets were considered, together 

with the impact of night operations 

– and the rationale underpinning 

the ‘area’ attacks against German 

towns. Mention was made of the 

forces diverted to air defence by 

Germany; where nearly 900,000 

people were employed on the antiaircraft 

defences by 1944, which 

was very close to the peak strength 

of the entire RAF during the war. 

The growth in tonnage of weapons 

delivery onto German targets was 

contrasted with the decline of that 

on England, and particular attention 

was paid to the effects produced on 

the railway system in France prior to 

D-Day, where traffic was reduced to 

a third of its normal level, and with 

wider consequences for the rest of 

the German rail system, which was 

unable to provide raw materials to 

the war industries due to the loss 

of rolling stock. 17 The consequences 

of targeting oil production at the 

same time were also considered. 

Tedder’s closing summary was quite 

simple: at the start of the war, air 

power, in the form of the RAF, had 

been just strong enough to hold the 

enemy back from the heart of Great 

Britain’s war effort, and provided that 

essential element of time to allow all 

three armed forces to be built up to 

enable a fight for victory, as opposed 

to survival, to commence. Air power 

had also provided the only means to 

continue the fight against Germany 

itself, for at least four years of the war, 

and had contributed significantly 

towards enabling victory both at land 

and sea. Looking to the future, while 

it was accepted that sea power was 

still vital to the nation’s security, in 

Tedder’s mind it was air power that in 

any future conflict would inevitably 

determine the end result. 

So how should we regard Tedder’s 

book today? The world has obviously 

changed a great deal, especially 

with regard to societal values and 

the norms of international relations, 

as well as the type of conflict that 

we are currently engaged in. From 

our perspective, perhaps the most 

important elements are those that 

relate to the need for preparedness, 

and understanding the impact of 

changes in technology on future 

warfare. The concept of the size of 

standing armed forces in a democracy 

being determined by the need to be 

capable of withstanding an initial 

onslaught, and thus allowing the 

nation to bring itself onto a war 

footing in order to succeed in an 

all-out conflict possibly seems dated 

today, although the analysis that 

identifies technology as a potential 

way out of the conundrum was highly 

prescient. 18 Furthermore, his advice 

to look at learning the lessons from 

the beginning of a conflict, not just 

the end, is well worth bearing in 

131

132 

mind. The analysis of the impact of 

the Combined Bomber Offensive also 

still stands as an excellent summary 

of this area of the war, and a powerful 

argument for the effects that air 

power can create in a major conflict. 

And although our futureologists at 

present predict more of the same, 

applying some careful thought to 

the less-likely end of the conflict 

spectrum through Tedder’s eyes 

might make for some uncomfortable 

thoughts. Notwithstanding any of 

the above, while his memoirs make 

for excellent reading, Air Power in War 

stands as a testament to an individual 

who knew a great deal about the 

application of air power in a joint 

environment, and from which 

present and future generations of 

airmen will always be able to draw 

something of value. 

Orange, Vincent. Tedder: Quietly in 

Command. Edited by Sebastian Cox, 

Studies in Air Power. London: Frank 

Cass, 2004. 

Peden, G.C. Arms, Economics and British 

Strategy. Cambridge: Cambridge 

University Press, 2007. 

Tedder, Lord. Air Power in War. First ed. 

London: Hodder and Staughton, 1947. 

Notes 

1 Lord Tedder, Air Power in War, First ed. 

(London: Hodder and Staughton, 1947), 

p 123. 

2 Series Editor’s Preface to: Vincent 

Orange, Tedder : Quietly in Command, 

ed. Sebastian Cox, Studies in Air Power 

(London: Frank Cass, 2004), p xiii. 

3 Air Chief Marshal, Trafford Leigh- 

Mallory, was also a member of 

Magdelene College, and although he and 

Tedder were students at the same time, 

they were never particularly friendly. 

In fact, Tedder had prickly relationships 

with a number of future RAF senior 

officers, including (as will be seen), 

Dowding and Slessor. 

4 The precise title of his thesis was The 

Navy of the Restoration from the Death of 

Cromwell to the Treaty of Breda: its Work, 

Growth and Influence. 

5 His first application was made in March 

1915, which appeared to have foundered 

in a sea of red tape, and he was advised 

to re-apply in December 1915. 

6 Dowding sought disciplinary action 

against Tedder for having taken more 

spares than he should have done. The 

request for action was overturned by 

Trenchard, but Tedder never forgave 

Dowding, and considered him unfit for 

high command. Orange, Tedder: Quietly in 

Command. 

7 All biplane types, consisting of Short 

Singapore IIIs, Vickers Vildebeest and 

Hawker Audax – no fighter types at all. 

8 The man originally proposed for the 

job, Air Vice-Marshal Owen Boyd, had 

been landed at Sicily instead of Malta on 

the outward journey, and as a result had 

been captured. 

9 His son was killed in action in 1940 on 

a daylight bombing raid over France, 

whilst his stepson died in a training 

accident in 1946. 

10 

11 Tedder, Air Power in War, p 15. 

12 Ibid., p 19. 

13 Ibid., p 39-40. 

14 Ibid., p 44. 

15 Ibid., Opposite p 82. 

16 Ibid., p 91. 

17 A number of the graphs used by 

Tedder to illustrate his points are 

reproduced at Annex A. 

18 For more on this concept see G. C. 

Peden, Arms, Economics and British 

Strategy (Cambridge: Cambridge 

University Press, 2007).

133

134 

Book Review 

The Past as Prologue: The Importance of History 

to the Military Professional 

Edited by Williamson Murray and Richard Hart Sinnreich 

In the summer of 2003, the British 

Army’s Directorate of Ground 

Development and Doctrine (now 

part of the Development, Concepts 

and Doctrine Centre) sponsored 

a conference on ‘Past Futures‘; the 

same conference was subsequently 

repeated in almost its entirety at 

the US Marine Corps University at 

Quantico that autumn. This book 

comes from that conference – and 

what an excellent book it is. If any 

reader of Air Power Review had any 

doubts of the need as professional air 

power advocates to read extensively 

military history (and I would hope 

that that is not the case) then this 

book will persuade. It is 265 pages 

of high-protein, well-written prose 

that explores many different aspects 

of the past as the prologue for the 

future, and there is not a weak 

chapter in the book. 

The book is split into three unequal 

parts. The first element, the 

introduction, is dominated by an 

essay (based on his opening 

address at the conference) by the 

incomparable Sir Michael Howard. 

Those familiar with his early 1990s 

work ‘The Lessons of History’ will not 

be surprised by the direction of 

this essay in which he argues that 

while the academic study of war has 

expanded to consider far broader 

societal effects and impacts, at the 

core of the study of military history 

Reviewed by Gp Capt Ian Shields 

must lie the study of the central 

activity of armed forces, that is, 

fighting. A timely reminder in the 

present environment, when we are 

as much or more concerned about 

society as we are about straight 

forward military undertakings. 

The seventy pages comprising Part 

One that follow consist of four, 

loosely linked essays. General Sir 

John Kiszely (the recently retired 

Director of the Defence Academy) 

sets out, from the British viewpoint, 

the relevance of history to the military 

profession. Understandably written 

from an Army viewpoint, General 

Kiszely charts the rise of interest in 

professional military, and particularly 

military history, in the British armed 

forces, ending with the assertion that 

we need inspirational instructors, 

since most of such history will have 

to be self-taught, a sentiment with 

which I fully concur. There follows 

an even more personal essay written 

by Paul Van Ripper on the same 

subject, but from his viewpoint as 

an American Marine. This, quite 

humbling, chapter shows how one 

man chose to tackle the study of 

military history, but very much from 

a self-taught viewpoint. Finally, 

in Part One, each of the editors 

contributes a think-piece. Richard 

Sinnreich reviews the formal teaching 

of military history (again, primarily 

from a Land perspective) and is far

from complimentary. There are broad 

parallels here for our own teaching, 

and this chapter sounds a timely 

warning about an over-reliance on 

technology rather than thinking. 

Finally, Williamson Murray offers 

some personal insights on military 

history and the profession of arms. 

He warns against seeking prediction 

from history, but urges that history, 

properly studied and understood, be 

used as a tool with which to unpick 

seemingly intractable problems. 

The remaining two-thirds of the book 

is gathered under the collective title 

of ‘The Past as Illuminator of the 

Future’ and comprises eight essays 

arranged roughly according to the 

period they are discussing. This 

Part two of the book is a veritable 

cornucopia of outstanding essays. 

Each is of a length that it is easy to 

read and understand in a single 

sitting, but short enough that your 

mind does not wander. Each of the 

authors is clearly writing on subjects 

that they have studied in depth, and 

their enthusiasm and knowledge 

shine from the pages. While it would 

be legitimate to criticise Part One 

for overlap and repetition, there is 

no such danger in the broad sweep 

that is the majority of this book. 

Paul Rahe starts off by arguing that 

Thucydides, in his defining history 

of the Peloponnesian War, should be 

treated as an educator and that his 

book should teach, not just be read. 

Colin Gray continues with a robust 

defence of Clausewitz, contending 

that he is as relevant today and 

into the future as he has been in 

the past. John Gooch follows with 

an examination of history and the 

nature of strategy, suggesting that 

reading histories will not, in itself, 

offer insight, only by reading good 

histories and thinking deeply will 

this be achieved. There follow two 

vignettes looking at lessons to be 

learned, mainly from a maritime 

perspective, from the Royal Navy’s 

transformation during the long era of 

peace it enjoyed throughout Queen 

Victoria’s reign (by Andrew Gordon 

from the Joint Services Command 

and Staff College, drawing on his 

excellent book ‘Rules of the Game’), 

and a case-study of the Russo- 

Japanese War of 1904 (by Jonathon 

Bailey). Both argue that lessons can 

be learned by studying theseperiods 

and, by extrapolation, that the study 

of history aids us in identifying 

lessons more generally. The historic 

theme continues with Paul Harris’ 

review of the resistance to change in 

the British Army between 1918 and 

1939 (in stark contrast to the far more 

effective analysis by the Germans 

and their willingness to adapt, 

including copying some of the better 

ideas the British came up with). 

This chapter is particularly 

commendable for a very well 

balanced section headed ‘The 

Reckoning’ where he shows that 

there are two sides to every argument 

– a point some historians who 

write with the benefit of hindsight 

can forget. The book closes with 

two essays touching on very 

contemporary issues: Christopher 

Harmon asks what history suggests 

about terrorism and its future (and 

answers that it is very much here to 

stay); finally, Francis Hoffman looks 

at the history and then the future of 

civil-military relations. 

It would be unfair to single out 

any one chapter as being better or 

weaker in this consistently excellent 

book. Best tackled by reading the 

Introduction and Part One in their 

135

136 

totality, Part Two lends itself to 

reading individual chapters. The 

book is thought-provoking and 

instructive throughout, well 

presented with a plethora of 

footnotes. Personally, I would have 

liked to have seen a concluding 

chapter by the two editors, drawing 

the work together, and a consolidated 

bibliography of the numerous works 

cited by the individual authors. The 

index too is perhaps a little sparse. 

However, these are common 

thoughts on books of this kind, 

essentially an anthology of the papers 

delivered to a conference, so perhaps 

I am being over-harsh. Although 

this book makes little more than 

occasional reference to air power, 

for anyone not yet convinced that 

they should read and study military 

history, this book will convince you. 

For those already convinced by the 

argument put forward in the book’s 

title, this volume will offer new 

insights and afford new avenues of 

study that will amply reward the 

effort of reading. A first class book 

that I strongly recommend.

‘…and with the dangers of infiltration 

ever present, the need is for 

constant vigilance.’ 

Operations Record Book, 

1307 Wing HQ, RAF Regiment, 

South-East Asia, October 1945. 

Constant Vigilance concerns the 

RAF Regiment’s operational 

history in South-East Asia 

Command (SEAC) drawing on the 

Operational Record Books, diaries 

and recollections of the men who 

fought in this forgotten theatre. It 

describes the humble beginnings of 

the RAF Regiment and how it became 

a specialist ground force capable 

of defending the critical air bridge 

into Burma. The success of SEAC, 

under the Supreme Command of 

Lord Mountbatten, featuring the 14 th 

Army’s General Slim and 3 rd Tactical 

Air Force Commander Air Marshall 

Sir John Baldwin, was largely as a 

result ofthe most effective air/land 

co-operative effort ever seen. This 

could only have been achieved with 

the support of the RAF’s transport, 

fighter and bomber squadrons 

and, without the RAF Regiment’s 

diligence, tenacity, persistence and 

professionalism in the defence of 

these assets, the RAF would not 

have been able to operate from 

the forward bases so vital for the 

provision of close air and logistic 

support, reinforcement, aero-medical 

evacuation, as well as fighter cover 

Book Review 

Constant Vigilance 

By Nigel W. M. Warwick 

Pen and Sword, Barnsley, 2007 

Reviewed by Sqn Ldr David Williams 

and the interdiction of the enemy’s 

supply lines. 

At first sight, Nigel Warwick has an 

unusual background for a military 

historian. A university lecturer and 

qualified Doctor in Plant Biology he 

lives in New South Wales, Australia. 

Despite his profession, Warwick is 

in fact an ardent military historian 

and it was his late father’s (ex-5 th 

Grenadier Guards) interest in the 

Burma campaign that led him to the 

trail of the RAF’s youngest fighting 

arm – the RAF Regiment. As the 

book’s Forward suggests, Warwick’s 

focus is not on Grand Strategy or 

High Command. Instead, he seeks 

to capture the atmosphere and 

attitudes of the men serving in the 

RAF Regiment in South East Asia 

at that time. The author manages to 

pack in an amazing amount of detail 

of unit dispositions, numbering 

and movements that gives his work 

enormous historical credibility and 

builds a detailed understanding of 

the RAF Regiment’s development 

including the three major 

reorganisations that the Corps was 

subjected to. At the same time he 

has managed to maintain the overall 

strategic and operational context 

and, thus, it is easy to see where the 

RAF Regiment’s contribution fitted 

in to the bigger picture. Warwick 

has also successfully incorporated 

the human element into his book 

137

138 

by placing carefully selected diary 

and interview accounts into the 

narrative, supported by an excellent 

collection of photographs, prints, 

maps and sketches. The sheer 

depth of research is impressive 

and it is hard to imagine that 

any relevant sources have been 

overlooked. Warwick’s writing style 

is effective, but his particular skill 

is in his ability to weave his sources 

together into a compelling account 

of this part of the RAF Regiment’s 

history. These accounts remain 

relevant to contemporary air and 

land operations, from the harsh 

environment and dangers of endemic 

disease and enemy action that 

the airmen and soldiers endured, 

through the sacrifices made to 

successfully prosecute the mission, 

to the critical close air and logistics 

support provided to land operations. 

Of course they differ in terms of the 

length of detachment; three years for 

married men and four years for those 

that were single. 

The book’s early chapters describe 

the formation of the RAF Regiment. 

Personnel selected to become 

members of this new Corps did 

not realise what an outstanding 

organisation it was to become in such 

a short period of time. Warwick tells 

of the boredom of early mustering 

and training, and the fact that RAF 

Regiment Gunners learnt morse-code 

in their spare time in the vain hope 

that such a skill would improve their 

chances of changing to another trade! 

However, these reluctant transferees 

and recruits rapidly began to bond, a 

process that led to an intense esprit 

de corps and ‘jealous-like’ pride in 

which the RAF Regiment Squadrons 

took in their own service. Many of 

these bonds were formed through the 

harsh working and living conditions 

endured and the rigorous training 

undertaken. For instance, in Chapter 

I, the RAF Regiment’s first Depot 

assault course, at Secunderabad in 

India, is described in great detail. 

Considered the hardest in this 

particular theatre it was responsible 

for a significant number of casualties 

in its own right. Warwick manages 

to balance the severity of the 

situation with the humour that 

abounded, exemplified by anecdotes 

and stories such as how unarmed 

combat at the same Depot was called 

‘Karoti’ because this was how the 

Geordie physical training instructor 

pronounced Karate! Anyone who 

has read any of Spike Milligan’s 

classic WWII memoirs, ‘Monty: His 

Part in My Victory’ for instance, will 

recognise a similar, if more subtle, 

form of ‘we’re all in the same boat’ 

British military humour. 

The narrative builds to a crescendo 

in the middle of the book during the 

thrust for, and capture of, Meiktila 

and the subsequent defence of its 

airfield – the landing site for the 

critical air bridge activities sustaining 

the 14 th Army’s push to re-take Burma 

and the RAF’s associated Close Air 

Support. The exploits of 1307 Wing 

and its four constituent Squadrons 

are remarkable even for the time. 

Commanded by Wing Commander 

Bill Lander, a larger than life 

character, the Wing were responsible 

for holding the airfield. As Warwick 

explains, however, this could not be 

done on a permanent basis as there 

were insufficient troops to occupy it 

at night so involved a daily fight to 

clear the Japanese from the strip and 

its surroundings in order to allow 

aircraft to take off and land – perhaps 

best described in a quote taken from

the book: 

‘At each sunset the force withdrew to 

the protection of its barbed-wire Box; 

the Japanese, knowing the airfield was 

left undefended, stubbornly returned 

to it. With first light, an attack was 

put in to clear them out. As soon as 

the airfield was reported to be back 

in British hands, 17 Squadron flew 

in. Invariably they had to help in 

removing enemy corpses from the 

runway. The RAF Regt won bloody 

renown in the fierce fighting for 

repossession of the landing ground 

every humid morning.’ 

CO 17 (F) Squadron RAF, 

Squadron Leader ‘Ginger’ Lacey 

Lander was eventually killed leading 

his men into action to clear the 

airfield’s operating surfaces. The 

situation was so dire it was four 

days before his body and that of his 

runner could be recovered. 

The final two chapters of the book 

describe the RAF Regiment’s 

involvement in peacekeeping and 

stabilisation throughout the region, 

including the recapture of Malaya 

and Singapore. In the penultimate 

chapter, Warwick describes a 

particularly touching moment during 

the signing of the Instrument of 

Surrender, by the Japanese, at the 

Municipal Building in Singapore. 

When Lord Mountbatten noticed 

that there was no RAF Regiment 

representative a request was sent 

out to the CO of 2896 Field Squadron 

for an airman to come in to witness 

the signing. Corporal W Vance, the 

smartest airman on parade, was 

sent in and captured on camera in 

the well-known official photograph 

of the signing. Such anecdotes 

are indicative of the high regard 

in which the RAF Regiment was 

held by senior commanders who 

recognised the contribution and 

sacrifices its members had made. The 

book concludes with the draw-down 

of forces and the mixed personal 

feelings of the men involved. It 

also describes the physical effects 

of years of fighting in such a harsh 

environment. 

While reading Constant Vigilance 

several thoughts struck me. Firstly, 

what a challenge writing a first book 

like this must be – in this case the 

fruit of 10 years of research – and 

how successful the author had 

been in capturing this moment in 

history. Secondly, having attended 

the book release and met a few 

of the remaining SEAC veterans, 

it was significant how animated 

the contributors to the book were. 

The founding President of the RAF 

Regiment SEAC Association, Mr 

Henry Kirk MBE, and a former 

colleague were eventually cajoled 

into standing up and talking about 

their experiences displaying heartfelt 

warmth towards the author for finally 

telling their story. The list price of 

£25 seems insignificant when you 

consider the sacrifice that the cast 

of this amazing story made and 

the quality of Warwick’s research 

and writing. Although particularly 

relevant to past and present serving 

members of the RAF Regiment, this 

record of events in South–East Asia 

displays the challenges, fledgling 

solutions and ingenuity of the period 

and will touch and inform civilians 

and servicemen and women of all 

three services alike. 

139

140 

We did it to ourselves... 

I 

listened recently to a relatively 

senior officer bemoaning the 

fact that the RAF had seen 

significantly more cuts than the 

Army over recent years. He was 

right. In 2006, the “strength of the 

UK Regular Armed Forces has 

fallen by just over a third since 1990, 

with the Royal Air Force falling the 

most (46%) and the Army the least 

(30%)” 1 . He asked how this could be 

fair or appropriate, given the unique 

capabilities of air power and its vital 

role in the contemporary operating 

environment. My answer to him: we 

did it to ourselves. 

While the Army has been steadily on 

message that they need more boots 

on the ground to meet the challenges 

of the contemporary operating 

environment and that the Regimental 

system was, if intangibly so, vital 

to esprit de corps, the RAF has been 

equally steadfast in its assertion that 

it can efficiently deliver increasingly 

decisive effect at increasing longer 

ranges in increasingly shorter [sic] 

periods of time, as long as we can 

access the appropriate technological 

solutions – technology underpinning 

our e-spirit dot corps. Faced with such 

assertions, why wouldn’t our friends 

in the Treasury take us at our word? 

We did it to ourselves. 

Viewpoint 

By Sqn Ldr Andrew Wilson 

Underpinning these assertions of the 

salience of technological supremacy 

in modern warfare was the 

Revolution in Military Affairs (RMA), 

which was vigorously embraced by 

the US in the early 1990s and went 

on, many have argued, to define 

their – and the Western – way of 

warfare as the century turned. 

Incidents such as the killing of 

Al Zarqawi in June 2006 by an 

air strike, which saw aircraft on a 

surveillance mission re-rolled, refuelled 

and retasked while still in 

the air to deliver the ‘decisive’ 

strike, were held up by air power 

advocates 2 as examples of how air 

power exemplified the post-RMA, 

networked, innovative form of 

warfare that was the envy of the 

world and the future of conflict. But, 

biplanes over the trenches of WWI 

were able to conduct both of these 

missions – admittedly, and by any 

measure, not as well, but nonetheless 

they observed and they bombed. I 

see improvement in the use of air 

power, but little innovation and no 

revolution; 9/11 on the other hand... 

Moreover, faced with this new form 

of warfare, our adversaries decided 

to evolve themselves, their RMA 

creating what some term a fourth 

generation of warfare (4GW) 3 , which 

removed our operational superiority 

by removing the operational level,

and saw years of research, and 

millions of pounds of investment, 

wiped out by a 14 year old in flip 

flops with a mobile phone, internet 

access and an axe to grind. Where is 

airpower’s decisive effect in the face 

of these threats? We hit the target on 

time, at range and with immaculate 

precision, but in doing so miss the 

point entirely. 

Perceiving air power as anything 

other than another tool of the trade of 

warfare – albeit a remarkably 

adaptable and capable tool – does it 

an injustice and has the potential to 

undermine its particular strengths 

and capabilities in the eyes of 

decision makers and our colleagues 

on the ground. Every man who 

has tried to use a knife instead of a 

screwdriver to fix a plug, a chair 

instead of a stepladder to reach the 

attic, or a conventionally orbatted and 

doctrined military to fight an 

insurgency, will know that even the 

best tools can lead to failure when 

applied to the wrong task. 

Advocating air power is one thing, 

but spinning its strengths, its 

potential and genuine contributions 

as something other than as a useful 

tool to be used as part of a broader, 

joined up operational/strategic plan 

is a dangerous fallacy; one that has 

the potential to undermine the hard 

won operational relevance air power 

has secured in its 100ish years. Just 

as economic sanctions became an 

‘attractive compromise between 

doing nothing and sending in the 

Marines’ 4 and our ‘statesmens’ 

affection for [them] has not been 

matched by a similar interest in 

analysis’ 5 , there is a danger that air 

power advocates will see it deployed 

as a Blood and Treasure-lite option 

inappropriately and ineffectively 

as, some might argue, NATO did in 

Kosovo, and continued to do 

so in Afghanistan and Iraq 6 . 

Air power is a marvellous tool that 

brings a plethora of advantages for 

war fighters and policy makers, but 

its advocates must be cautious in 

their claims and must ensure that 

air power research and publications 

such as this, place air power in the 

broader context of war, strategy and 

international relations. 

Notes 

1 Viewed relatively, these cuts are even 

greater. UK Defence Statistics 2006 – 

http://www.dasa.mod.uk/natstats/ 

ukds/2006/c2/table27.html 

2 General Mosely, then head of the 

United States Air Force (USAF), used this 

example during CAS Air power 

Conference in summer 2006. 

3 There is much debate on the nature, 

relevance and, even, existence of 4GW, 

which is the subject of other research by 

the author. 

4 Haass R – Sanctions – With Care - 

Washington Post 27 July 1997 

5 Forland T – The History of Economic War 

- Journal of Peace Research Vol 30 

No 2 1993. 

6 Yes, air power’s contribution to the 

initial operational battles was impressive, 

even decisive, but not so in the broader 

strategic campaign, where the West, as a 

whole, has been unable to act decisively. 

141

142 

Notes

Notes 

143

144 

Notes

Notes 

145

146 

Notes

Notes 

147

148 

Notes


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