Course Handout - Military Disasters
Copyright Notice: This material was
written and published in Wales by Derek J. Smith (Chartered Engineer). It forms
part of a multifile e-learning resource, and subject only to acknowledging
Derek J. Smith's rights under international copyright law to be identified as
author may be freely downloaded and printed off in single complete copies
solely for the purposes of private study and/or review. Commercial exploitation
rights are reserved. The remote hyperlinks have been selected for the academic
appropriacy of their contents; they were free of offensive and litigious
content when selected, and will be periodically checked to have remained so. Copyright © 2001-2018, Derek J. Smith.
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First published online 16:56 BST 8th May 2001,
Copyright Derek J. Smith (Chartered Engineer). This
version [2.0 - copyright] 09:00 BST 4th July 2018.
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The Battle of New Orleans, 1815: In this encounter on
8th January 1815 during the Anglo-American War of 1812-1814 (the apparent
contradiction in dates arises from the fact that the war had actually ended
two weeks before the battle took place, but the news had yet to reach
Louisiana), a British expeditionary force under Sir Edward Pakenham
(1778-1815), brother-in-law of the Duke of Wellington, attempted to capture
the city of New Orleans and thereby to deny the Americans free use of the
Mississippi River. Having landed from the Gulf of Mexico on 23rd-24th
December, the British marched (some have said a mite too cautiously) up the
east bank of the Mississippi, until they came up against a hastily
constructed defensive line behind the (dry) Bayou Rodrigues at Chalmette,
about 8 miles from the city. This was known as "Line Jackson",
after the commander of the defending troops, General (subsequently President)
Andrew Jackson. Here they began their build-up for a major attack by
constructing a number of breastworks for the artillery they were bringing up. Unfortunately for the British, Jackson was an
experienced campaigner, and had chosen his defensive position well. He had a
clear flat field of fire to his front, the Mississippi anchoring his right
flank, and an impracticable swamp anchoring his left. Along this 1000 yard
line, he had constructed a fortified rampart of earth and cotton bales, and
distributed about 4000 men (better than one man per foot). He had also turned
some brick kilns on the bank of the Mississippi into a forward strongpoint,
and had eight artillery batteries with a total of 14 guns supporting the
defences from behind. As if that were not enough, the Americans also had the
sloop USS Louisiana (18 guns, of which 16 heavy) on the river itself,
and General David B. Morgan had a further 1000 men and another 16 guns on the
far (west) bank of the river. For his part, Pakenham had nearly 7000 troops,
organised into two assault brigades, one on each wing, a headquarters brigade
in the centre, and a flanking brigade ready to be ferried across to the west
bank of the Mississippi to try and break Line Morgan and establish a line of
fire into the American rear. Here is the British order of battle:
The attack actually began during the night of the
7th January, because it was vital that Thornton's brigade be got across the
river by dawn on the 8th. However, this involved some rather substantial
field engineering on Bayou Villeré, another of the
dry irrigation ditches, some three miles away from Line Jackson
..... The Bayou Villeré
Works: When the British first landed, they had used the seaward end of
Bayou Villeré to bring up supplies, but they could
not navigate through to the Mississippi itself because the bayou had been
closed off from the river by a raised riverbank, or "levee". When
the attack on the west bank was proposed it made good sense to turn the first
few hundred feet of this bayou into a harbour of sorts, so that men and
equipment could be loaded into their boats without risk of being swept away
by the strong main stream current. 41 boats were duly assembled for this
purpose on the seaward side of the levee. Unfortunately, the engineering was
complicated by the fact that the water level in the bayou was lower than it
was in the river. Had the levee simply been dug through, the boats would have
been swept away into the swamp by the resulting surge. It was therefore
necessary to build up the banks of the bayou beforehand, and this task was
entrusted to the engineers on 3rd January. It was easier said than
done, however, because the surrounding land was naturally waterlogged and
there was a shortage of timber for shoring, so that when Packenham took time
out on the evening of 7th January to confirm that arrangements were going
according to plan, he could only be half heartedly assured by the engineer in
charge of the works that all was well. Sure enough, when the levee was
breached at 2100hr, the workings collapsed under the strain, and it took the
rest of the night to manhandle the boats over the levee. Thornton was
accordingly many hours behind schedule, and was still disembarking his forces
at dawn, 0730hr, when the signal rocket went up to start the attack. (See
under Taking Things for Granted (2) below). Things soon started to go wrong, despite the valuable
additional cover provided by the morning mists. There was particular
confusion on the right, where the 44th Regiment under newly promoted
Lieutenant-Colonel Thomas Mullins had been chosen to lead Gibbs' attack.
Thanks to poor staff work and lack of supervisory diligence (for which
Mullins was later court martialled), the 44th were unable, when they arrived
in the darkness at their jumping off positions, to find the assault materials
(ladders and bundles of wattle called "fascines") they had been
ordered to take with them. They therefore had to backtrack some 500 yards and
were still not in their proper positions when the signal rocket went up. As a
result, they not only baulked the advance of the 4th and 21st Regiments, but
interfered also with the covering fire being given by the skirmishers of the
95th. This, combined with a concentration of accurate enemy artillery fire
and poor discipline, brought general confusion to the field, although some of
the 21st and 95th began to establish a foothold on line Jackson at a point
known as the bastion. On the left, Keane's advance began more promisingly.
He had sent a mixed battalion of light infantry under Colonel Robert Rennie
along the bank of the river to attack the brick kiln redoubt, and these made
relatively good progress, taking the redoubt and disabling the three
artillery pieces they found there. This placed Keane momentarily in a
position of significant tactical advantage, because
from there the defence could easily have been "turned" (ie. outflanked and rolled up from one end). In the event,
however, Rennie was killed before he could issue the necessary orders and
Keane was too far away to take command personally. In one final attempt to save the day, Keane was now
instructed to divert the cream of his command - the 93rd Regiment under
Colonel Dale - diagonally from left to right across the front to support
Gibbs' attack on the bastion. Needless to say, they suffered high losses in
the ever improving light, and, just as they got into position to deal a possibly
decisive blow, both Gibbs and Dale were killed. This was followed shortly
afterwards by a "wavering" - a loss of stomach for the battle -
which resulted in the 4th, 21st, and 44th falling back in confusion (Burrows,
1923). On the west bank meanwhile ...... The West Bank Defences: The American defences
on the west bank of the Mississippi consisted of a number of artillery
batteries protected by two defensive lines of infantry. For maximum effect,
the batteries were situated directly across the river from the open ground in
front of Line Jackson. This allowed them to fire into the left flank of the
east bank assault units (a highly effective type of fire known technically as
"enfilade"). Line Morgan was immediately in front of the batteries, and the advanced guard half a mile or so
further towards Thornton's point of disembarkation. The Louisiana
fought at anchor throughout, more or less opposite the end of Line Jackson,
presenting her starboard battery of eight long 24-pounders. Her port guns had
been removed before the battle and included in the shore batteries. ..... Thornton was warming to his task. It had taken
him an hour after disembarking to move into position opposite the lightly
defended American advanced line, but knowing that the American artillery was
wreaking havoc on the flank of the main attack, he charged with the minimum
of preparation, forcing 300 Louisiana and Kentucky irregulars to fall back to
Line Morgan. Then, since it was already 0830hr and the main attack was
already in substantial disarray, he regrouped his forces and mounted another
all-out bayonet charge on Line Morgan, a miniature version of Line Jackson.
This, too, was an outright success, thanks to a decisive "left
hook" by the 85th Regiment under Lieutenant-Colonel Gubbins.
Unfortunately, though they captured the American shore batteries, there was
no longer any need to set up batteries of their own to enfilade Line Jackson
because the main attack had already collapsed. Lambert simply ordered
Thornton to disable the captured guns and then withdraw. British losses on the day were 291 killed, 1262 wounded, and 484 captured or missing, against American
losses of 13 killed, 39 wounded, and 19 missing (Hanger, 1999). As the song
has it, the British had come off "rather ignominiously" (Donegan, 1959). Here are some of the contributory factors:
For further
general detail click here,
for more from the museum of the 93rd Regiment, now the Argyll and Sutherland
Highlanders, click here,
for an oil painted glimpse of the Louisiana in action click here, for a battle
re-enactment society video click here,
for Harry Smith's biography click here, and finally, if you want to see if you can do any
better than Packenham, have a go at "Battle for the Bayous", by
Liberty Games, Aloha, Oregon - get Thornton across the river on time, and you
cannot lose! References Burrows, J.W.
(1923). The Essex Regiment (1st Battalion) 1741-1919. Southend:
Burrows. Donegan, Lonnie (1959). The Battle of New Orleans.
[To hear this Jimmy Driftwood ditty, click here.
Lonnie Donegan marketed the UK cover version in
1959, with additional lyric as quoted, and got to Number 2 in the British hit
parade.] Hanger, K.S.
(1999). A Medley of Cultures: Louisiana History at the Cabildo.
New Orleans, LA: Louisiana State Museum. [Available online.] Pickles, T. (1993). New Orleans 1815. Oxford: Osprey. [To see the publisher's blurb, click here.] |
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The Charge of
the Light Brigade, 1854: In this encounter
on 25th October 1854, during the defence of Balaclava in the Crimean War, the
Light Brigade, one of the British Army's elite cavalry units, was cut to
pieces in an ultimately fruitless attack on a well-established and
numerically superior Russian position. The Commander-in-Chief on the day was
Lord Raglan, commander of all the forces at Balaclava, who 40 years
previously had lost an arm at the Battle of Waterloo (legend has it that he
called the surgeon back as he walked off with the severed limb, so that he
could take the rings off his fingers one last time). The commander of the
cavalry was Lieutenant-General the Earl of Lucan, and the commander of the
Light Brigade was Lieutenant-General the Earl of Cardigan (Lucan's
brother-in-law), who led the charge itself. It was Raglan
who first resolved that the Light Brigade should attack. A large Russian
force had mounted a surprise attack from the east, and had captured some
forts on the plain above Balaclava harbour, only to have their advance halted
by dogged defence of the 93rd Regiment (again) and by an enormously well
executed charge by Lucan's Heavy Brigade against a force more than three
times its own strength. At this juncture, the Russians began to withdraw, and
from his headquarters atop the plateau to the west (a vantage point described
by the war correspondent William Russell as like a box at a theatre) Raglan
worried that they would carry away with them the guns from the forts they had
captured. He decided that the best way to counter this threat was to commit
the remaining cavalry - the Light Brigade - to harrass
and hurry their retreat. The disposition of the forces at this moment can be
seen from the maps included on the Xenophon Group International website. Raglan therefore
sent down a written order, instructing Lucan as follows: "The
cavalry to advance and take advantage of any opportunity to recover the
heights. They will be supported by infantry, which has been ordered. Advance
on two fronts." [House of Lords transcripts, 19th March 1855, as
reported in The Times, 20th March 1855. Available online. By the term "the heights", Raglan was referring to the
range of small hills across the plain where the forts were situated, not to
the escarpment of the plateau to the west where he himself had his
headquarters, nor to the Fedukhine Heights to the
east where the Russians were.] Having just
committed his Heavy Brigade, and seeing little obvious activity on the
heights, Lucan did not respond immediately, and so 45 minutes later Raglan
impatiently sent down a second written order, as follows: "Lord
Raglan wishes the cavalry to advance rapidly to the front, follow the enemy,
and try to prevent the enemy carrying away the guns. Troop of Horse Artillery
may accompany. French cavalry is on your left. Immediate." (The Times,
2nd March 1855.) The orders were
conveyed to Lucan by one Captain Nolan, and Raglan was so irritated with the
delay that he explicitly directed Nolan to emphasise the need for Lucan to
act immediately. Lucan, however, was down on the valley floor, and
could see far less of the strategic situation than could Raglan. Confused as
to which "guns" the orders were referring to, he turned on Nolan ..... Lucan: "Attack, Sir!
Attack what, and where? Where is your enemy? What guns are these we are to
recover?" Nolan [pointing angrily]:
"There, my lord, is your enemy; there are your
guns." [House of Lords transcripts, 19th March 1855, as reported in The
Times, 20th March 1855. Available online. In the subsequent enquiry Lucan stated adamantly that Nolan pointed
not at the forts Raglan had in mind, but at the main Russian position at the
foot of the Fedukhine Heights to the east. However,
the mistake would be an easy one to make, because Woodward (1962) estimates
the difference between the correct and incorrect gestures at 20 degrees of
arc, or about 12 inches at arm's length.] Lucan then
summoned Cardigan and conveyed the order, and recently discovered papers indicate that Cardigan protested strongly that the
attack would be madness. Orders being orders, however, there was little Lucan
could do to countermand his commander in chief, especially when he was in a
better position to judge the totality of the situation. Cardigan was
accordingly instructed to get about the task he had been given, and the
advance began a few minutes later. The total strength of the five cavalry
squadrons involved was 672 men, with Cardigan riding alone in front of the
line. Nolan accompanied them for a short while, until killed in the early
Russian barrage, and some reports (but not Cardigan's) claim that just before
his death he began wildly waving his sword as if trying to gain Cardigan's
attention in an attempt to correct the mistake. Half an hour later 113 of his
men had been killed and 134 wounded. Lucan
subsequently described the event as "a most triumphant charge against a
very superior number of the enemy's cavalry, and an attack upon batteries
which, for daring and gallantry, could not be exceeded." Raglan, on the
other hand, wanted Lucan court martialled for failing to respond at all to
the first order, and responding incorrectly to the second. He insisted that
his orders had clearly been "to take advantage of any opportunity"
to reoccupy the heights and prevent the removal of the captured guns"
[Raglan's Report; The Times, 13th November 1854; Available online]. In his defence, Lucan argued that his discretionary powers as a
senior commander were on this occasion limited by Nolan's rather precise
interpretation of Raglan's intentions. "To take upon myself," he
wrote, "to disobey an order written by the Commander-in-Chief within a
few minutes of its delivery, and given from an elevated position commanding
an entire view of all the batteries and the position of the enemy would have
been nothing less than direct disobedience of orders" [letter from Lucan
to Raglan, 30th November 1854, published in The Times, 2nd March 1855.
Available online]. The argument raged bitterly in the British press and parliament
throughout the winter of 1854/5, and even The Times judged it
"difficult to acquit" Lucan of "great slackness in the
discharge of his duty" [Editorial, The Times, 9th March 1855; Available online]. Here are the two
main object lessons:
For further
detail of the inquests and enquiries, we thoroughly recommend David
Kelsey's website. References Knightley, P.
(1982). The First Casualty: From the Crimea to Vietnam - The War
Correspondent as Hero, Propagandist, and Myth Maker (2nd Edition).
London: Quartet. Woodward, L. (1962). The Age of Reform 1815-1870 (2nd Edition). Oxford: Clarendon. |
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Little Big
Horn, 1876: In this encounter on
25th June 1876, General George A. Custer and five companies of the US 7th
Cavalry Regiment were surrounded by a superior force of Sioux and Cheyenne
Indians and massacred to a man in what has gone on to be referred to as
"Custer's Last Stand". The massacre came as part of the 1876 Indian
War, a bid to subdue Indian resistance in the high plains south of the
Yellowstone River. Geographical Note: The
Yellowstone rises on the eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains (in what is
now the Yellowstone National Park), and runs an average east-north-east until
it joins the River Missouri at Fort Buford, North Dakota, some 100 miles from
the Canadian border. The Big Horn, Rosebud, and Powder Rivers all run
northwards into the Yellowstone from the Big Horn Mountains, Wyoming; the
Little Big Horn arises between the Big Horn and the Rosebud, and joins the
Big Horn at a point some 30 miles away from the Yellowstone. [No e-map yet
available.] The campaign as
a whole was under the strategic command of General Philip H. Sheridan in
Chicago, and the June 1876 expedition under the local command of General
Alfred H. Terry. The Indians were under the strategic command of the Sitting
Bull, but usually fought under the field command of Crazy Horse. A
three-pronged advance had been envisaged, with columns converging into the
Big Horn Plains from the north west, the north east, and the south east.
Unfortunately, the southern column under General George Crook had already been
given a bloody nose at the Battle of the Rosebud on 17th June. They were
engaged by a large force of Sioux and Cheyenne led by Crazy Horse, and fell back to await reinforcements. Crazy Horse
returned to Sitting Bull's encampment somewhere in the Little Big Horn
valley, and it was this encampment which was now sought. It was therefore
decided to send the remaining two forces separately up the Rosebud and the
Big Horn, timing their advances so that they would arrive in the Little Big
Horn valley on the same day but from different directions, thus trapping the
Indians between them (a double encirclement manoeuvre often known as
"hammer and anvil"). At noon on 22nd
June, Custer's column, consisting of 12 companies of the 7th Cavalry
Regiment, separated from General Terry's column at the point where the
Rosebud joins the Yellowstone, and headed south. Terry's column, consisting
of five companies of the 7th Infantry Regiment and four companies of the 2nd
Cavalry Regiment, supported by three Gatling guns, was ferried 50 miles
further upstream to the confluence with the Big Horn. From there it, too,
headed south, making for the junction with the Little Big Horn. NB:
In fact Terry's column was commanded by General John Gibbon until 23rd June,
but he was taken ill and Terry assumed command in his stead. For the sake of
simplicity, we have referred to this force as "Terry's column"
throughout. In the event,
Custer's column moved too fast for its own good, and just after dawn on the
morning of the 25th, his scouts reported a large Indian encampment on the
south bank of the Little Big Horn some 15 miles further to the west.
Unfortunately the Indians also spotted him, thus threatening to rob him of
the element of surprise. This put Custer in a major dilemma, for he was at
least two days ahead of Terry's column. Should he attack at once, or should
he wait for support? Being Custer, he decided to attack, and now it was his
turn to divide his forces. Major Marcus A. Reno took three companies along
the south bank of the river, Captain Frederick W. Benteen
took three companies and swept out more widely through the hills to Reno's
left, and Custer retained five companies and set off along the high ground to
the north of the river [for map, click here].
The remaining company was held back to guard the baggage train. The advance
began at 1212hr, and was within easy sight of the encampment by around
1500hr. Reno then drew his battalion up into battle order, and advanced on
the village. The Indians, however, stood their ground, and soon outnumbered
Reno. His men dismounted, becoming defenders rather than attackers, and fell
back across the Little Big Horn to dig in on a bluff - now Reno Hill -
overlooking the valley. Here they held out until relieved by Gibbon's
infantry on 27th. This defensive response cost Reno his good name until
exonerated posthumously by a Review Board in 1967. Custer meanwhile
had been advancing along the high ground to the north, and when he saw Reno
falling back in disorder he sent a rider to hasten Benteen's
battalion. Benteen arrived around 40 minutes later,
at around 1600hr, and skirmished for a while with the Indians who had been harrassing Reno's retreat. But numbers were not in their
favour, and by 1800hr they were forced to dig in alongside Reno and await
rescue. Having supported
Reno as best he could, Custer pressed on along the ridge, but encountered
fiercer Indian resistance all the time as the enemy organised their forces
and switched braves up from the Reno engagement. By 1720hr, the remnants of
his five companies had been pushed back onto a line of low knolls now known
as Custer Hill, Battle Ridge, and Calhoun Hill, and by 1800hr all 210 of his
command had been killed. Here are some of
the criticisms which have been levelled at this unsuccessful foray:
For further general information click here, for selected New York Times articles from that period click here, for the story of Major Reno click here, for the story of the Far West, the steamer which did the ferrying back and forth, click here, and for the full set of Sun Tzu's observations on the art of war click here. |
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Isandhlwana Hill,
1879: The British invasion of
Zululand began on 11th January 1879, with the strategic aim of clearing Zulu
strongholds west of the Buffalo River. The invasion force was prepared in
Natal, and consisted of three separate columns of advance, the centre column
of which was under the command of Lord Chelmsford. This column consisted of 5
companies of the 1st Battalion, 24th Regiment of Foot (hereafter 1/24th), 7
companies of the 2nd Battalion, 24th Regiment of Foot (hereafter 2/24th), 6
companies of the Natal Native Contingent (hereafter NNC), some Natal
Pioneers, some mounted irregulars, and a 6-gun battery of Royal Artillery. The first
challenge was to cross the river and climb up onto the Nqutu plateau beyond.
The crossing of the river began at a mission station called Rorke's Drift at 0430hr on 11th January, mounted troops
first. It took all day to get the column across, but they had to camp
straight away while the pioneers improved the primitive roadway on the far
side in readiness for the wagons. This proved to be a lengthy process, and
even by noon on 20th January the wagons had only advanced some 15 miles, to Isandhlwana Hill, a promontory jutting out from the line
of the Nqutu escarpment, and overlooking the valley below. Here, on a natural
shelf, still several hundred feet below the plateau, they formed a forward
supply camp. They omitted, however, to construct any defence works, contrary
to standing orders and despite several experienced officers of the 24th
expressing concern. Chelmsford,
meanwhile, had been patrolling ahead, trying to locate the main body of
Zulus, and when one of these patrols reported having engaged a large
concentration of Zulus he presumed that he had succeeded. At 0330hr on
Wednesday 22nd January he went to this patrol's assistance, taking with him
all bar one company of the 2/24th, some of the mounted irregulars, 4 of the 6
guns, and the Natal Pioneers. He left the base camp under the command of
Lieutenant-Colonel Henry Pulleine (1/24th), an
officer with 24 year's service but lacking significant combat experience.
Without the patrols or Chelmsford, Pulleine had at
his disposal the 5 companies of the 1/24th, "G" Company (and the
cooks and quartermasters) of the 2/24th, some of the mounted irregulars, the
NNC, and the remaining two guns. At around 1100hr they were reinforced
by a rocket battery and 550 more native troops, of whom 250 were the mounted
Natal Native Horse (NNH). These latter were commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel
Anthony Durnford, and were stationed on the right
(eastern end) of Pulleine's defensive arc. Above
and in front of them, on the edge of the plateau but free to fall back if
pressed, was an inner screen of infantry outposts (provided by "G"
Company, 2/24th) and an outer screen of mounted irregulars. But the Zulus
Chelmsford had gone off to engage were not the main Zulu army. That - around
20,000 men - had spent the night of the 21st hidden in a ravine some 6 miles
distant. It had not been their intention to fight on the 22nd because it was
the full moon, and that was deemed unlucky; but around mid-morning a British
scout chanced upon them Wishing to retain the element of surprise, the Zulus
immediately formed up into their regiments, advanced at the run, and were on
the ridge above the British base camp at around midday. There followed
an hour or so of active engagement, with the British more or less holding
their own despite the lack of fortifications. Then ammunition began to run
low, and because the companies were still well forward it took valuable time
restocking them. As a result, the intensity of the musketry slackened and the
Zulus began to make progress. Their breakthrough cam
a few minutes later when the NNC companies at the centre of the defensive arc
broke and ran. This allowed the Zulus to flood through the gap and fan out
behind the remaining British, who were then quickly surrounded and massacred
almost to the man. Only 55 Europeans survived the day. Here are some of the
criticisms which have been levelled at this unsuccessful foray:
For further
general details click here, and for a history of the Natal native units click
here. References Morris, D.R. (1965/1989). The Washing of the Spears (Revised Ed.). London: Random House. [To see the publisher's blurb, click here.] |
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Slapton Sands,
1944: In April 1944, in the run up
to the Normandy Invasions, many training exercises were staged along the
south coast of England. One of the largest of these was called Operation
Tiger, and involved the main units destined to land on Utah Beach,
Normandy, in the real invasion. Start Bay, south of Dartmouth, Devon, was
chosen because its beaches were very similar to Utah Beach. In all, 25000 men
and 2750 vehicles were involved. Two incidents of interest then took
place, one during the mock assault landings on the 27th and another in the
lead up to the mock second wave landings on the 28th. The first
incident is rumoured (but not officially acknowledged) to have occurred as US
mock defenders took on assault forces from the US 4th Infantry Division and
1st Engineers Special Brigade. Because this was an attempt to provide
lifelike combat experience, these troops had been expressly authorised by
General Eisenhower to use live ammunition. The optional rumours are then (a)
that the US defenders had not realised they had been issued with live
ammunition, and instead of firing over the heads of the attackers were aiming
directly at them, and/or (b) that Royal Navy units out at sea giving
"lifelike" covering fire were in fact firing short, killing mock
defenders and mock attackers alike. Alternatively, there was just general
battlefield confusion in which it is the nature of things that people get
hurt. Rumours aside,
worse was to happen that night as the mock second wave set off to practice a
reinforcing landing. In this officially acknowledged incident in the early
hours of 28th April 1944, a convoy of eight fully loaded and very slow LSTs
("landing ships, tank", rather like small reverse-in-roll-off car
ferries; also known - not entirely affectionately - as large slow targets),
escorted by a single Royal Navy corvette, was ambushed by a squadron of nine
German E-Boats (light and fast patrol boats). This second wave contained
engineers and quartermaster unit troops. These were not scheduled to perform
a beach assault as such, but to practise beach clearing and the offloading of
stores and transport vehicles. In the ensuing night action, three of the LSTs
were torpedoed, two sinking quickly and one making it home. Most reports
state that 198 US sailors and 551 US soldiers were killed. The incident was
not officially acknowledged until June 1954. Numerous
contributory errors have been identified, including:
The most telling
statistic of all is that roughly four men died practising for the Utah Beach
landings for every one killed on the day itself. Ultimately, however, the
point of staging the exercises in the first place was to identify precisely
this sort of teething problem while there was still time to do something
about them, and, given the eventual success of the Normandy invasion, the
exercises clearly fulfilled this purpose. [For a detailed official history click here,
and to see a picture of an LST click
here] References Murch , M., Murch, D., & Fairweather,
L. (1984). The American Forces at Salcombe and Slapton during World War Two. Plymouth, PDS. Regan, G.
(2001). SNAFU. E-Book.
[The acronym SNAFU is US military slang for "situation normal - all
f***** up". Geoffrey Regan is a specialist in the analysis of military
blunders.] Small, K. (1988). The Forgotten Dead. London: Bloomsbury. [To see the publisher's blurb, click here. Ken Small is the amateur historian who refreshed interest in the incident in the 1980s and worked for the creation of the official memorial which now overlooks the site.] |
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USS
Vincennes Air Disaster,
1988: In this incident on 3rd July
1988, during the 1980-1988 Iran-Iraq War, an Iran Air Airbus A300 en route across the Persian Gulf was mistakenly
identified as a hostile warplane, and shot down by a ship-to-air missile from
the US cruiser, USS Vincennes. 16 crew and 274 passengers lost their
lives. One good source of e-material is the book by Gene Rochlin
of the University of California at Berkeley (Rochlin,
1997; available online). Parallel accounts are given by Cushman (1988), Barry and Charles
(1992), and Evans (1993; available online). Here is a composite timeline distilled from these various sources,
and incorporating the harsher accusations in some of them. Precise times are
not always available because published testimony is often conflicting,
suffers from a deal of "improving hindsight" and political position
taking, and the full report remains classified. We have therefore had to show
many of the timings as contentious. It may also help to refer to the map of the area before proceeding. NB: Timings are given in Bahrain time, using the format BCnnnn if from Barry and Charles (1992) or EVnnnn if from Evans (1993). Rochlin
uses Bandar Abbas time, and needs to be adjusted downwards by 90 minutes to
give the equivalent Bahrain time. Cushman uses Omani time and needs to be
adjusted downwards by 60 minutes.
[AEGIS was conceived during the 1960s, developed in the 1970s,
entered operations in the 1980s, and remains under phased development to this
day. The system requires a large superstructure of AN/SPY-1 radar dishes, and
is controlled from a windowless Command Information Centre (CIC), looking not
unlike a "luxury video arcade" (Barry and Charles, 1982). The
information provided by the individual equipment operators is collated and
interpreted by a suite of computer software and the overall tactical
situation displayed upon a large scenario display board for consideration by
the Captain and his senior officers. They, together with the equipment
operators and the individual weapons systems controllers, are linked by a
voice communication network (more on which later). Another network, the Link
11 system, communicates electronically with other ships in the vicinity,
providing they are similarly equipped. AEGIS itself was named after the
shield of Zeus in the Greek myths, and was claimed to be able to track and
destroy in prioritised sequence as many as 100 simultaneously approaching
targets, in all weathers, on, above, or under the sea, and out to a range of
300 miles. Be that as it may, on its first time in combat it shot down a
civilian airliner. In the wake of the Hainan Island Incident (see below,
April 2001) there are as yet (and perhaps fortunately) no plans to sell the
system to Taiwan (Reuters, 20th April 2001). For a fuller technical history
of the system, including photographs, click here.]
RESEARCH
ISSUE: The captain,
his key officers, and the equipment operators, are constantly linked by
headphones so it is not always easy to identify who is currently speaking.
Indeed, the entire arrangement - many separate minds, all interlinked -
raises some interesting psychological issues. One such issue is the
relationship between the two cerebral hemispheres at such a moment. Normally,
our auditory world (largely left hemisphere) and our visual world (largely
right hemisphere) are comparatively easy to integrate one with the other,
because normally what we hear are the sounds of the world we are looking at,
not the sounds of the world someone else is looking at. This allows us to
maintain a single coherent mental model of the world. Little is known,
however, about how the cognitive system might apportion its resources when
faced with the clamour of a command and control system such as that
described. Indeed, in direct comparison to AEGIS, the human command and
control system - ie. the
brain - fails abysmally, having evolved to be able to track and destroy in
prioritised sequence perhaps three simultaneously approaching targets, in
most weathers, preferably on the flat, and out to a range of 300 feet!
Our own analysis of the psychological processes involved in military signalling
is set out in Smith (1997).
[The Sides was under the command of Captain David Carlson, and
over the years he and the military establishment (including Captain Rogers)
have violently disagreed over many critical facts and timings. The bulk of
the Internet material follows one or other of the two captains' accounts. The
fact remains, however, that Vincennes and Sides were linked by
the Link 11 system, so that each had exactly the same information available
to it, yet fatally different conclusions were drawn from that information.
Task Force Command on the Coronado was not on the Link 11
system, and so had no alternative but to rely blindly on the judgement of the
two ships on the spot (Evans, 1993).]
This incident
provoked international outrage and a personal apology by President Reagan,
brought about the payment of $131.8 million reparations, and has become a
major case study for students of human decision making, in particular as an
instance of a phenomenon known as cognitive framing. This is what
happens when preconceptions are allowed to distort subsequent perceptions.
The official enquiry - the Fogarty Report (Fogarty, 1988) - remains
classified. Numerous
contributory errors have been identified, including:
For further
general information on this incident click here, for the history
of naval automation in general (including fire control systems) click here, for a briefing
on the Ticonderoga class guided missile cruisers click here,
for a scorching attack on the iniquities of "Fort Pinocchio" (ie. the Pentagon) click here,
for an update on the progress being made at testing AEGIS's ability to
control the new Standard-3 missile click here,
and for details of a recent experiment in serene decision making - in the
newly fitted out "Disney Room" aboard USS Coronado - click here. References Barry, J. &
Charles, R. (1992). Sea of lies. Newsweek, 13th July 1992. Bennett, S.
(2000). Tools of Deconstruction. Leicester: University of Leicester. Cushman, J.H.
(1988). 11 minutes to downing of an airliner. New York Times, 20th
August 1988. Evans, D.
(1993). Vincennes: A Case Study. US Naval Institute Proceedings,
August 1993. [Available online.] Fogarty, W.M.
(1988). USN Report 28th July 1988. Rochlin, G.I. (1997). Trapped in the Net: The
Unanticipated Consequences of Computerisation. Princeton, NJ: Princeton
University Press. [Available online.] Smith, D.J. (1997). Chunking and Cognitive Efficiency: Some Lessons from the History of Military Signalling. Cardiff: UWIC. [ISBN: 1900666065] [Transcript of paper presented 27th March 1997 to the 11th Annual Conference of the History and Philosophy of Psychology Section of the BPS, York.] |
|
USS
Greeneville Submarine
Disaster, 2001: In this incident on
10th February 2001, the US submarine USS Greeneville was practising
surfacing in an emergency. This is something of a "show off"
manoeuvre, in which 6000 tons of submarine leaps out of the sea at 30mph much
like a dolphin. Unfortunately, the presence of a Japanese fisheries training
ship had not been detected, and she was fatally holed as the submarine
surfaced beneath her. Three crew, two teachers, and four students died. In the
subsequent Navy Court of Enquiry, Rear Admiral Konetzni
was very clear where the responsibility lay: "The commanding
officer," he said, "has the absolute obligation to make sure the
area is free". The Greeneville's fire control technician had had
signals that a ship was close, but had presumed that they were spurious when
a periscope scan had seen nothing. He had been prevented from raising the
matter explicitly due to the presence of 16 civilian guests in the control
room. [When civilians are included on a training mission, it becomes known as
a "tiger cruise".] He had also allowed to lapse into disuse the
standing order requiring a manual plot be maintained of surface ships in the
area of operation. There has been conflicting testimony as to whether one of
these civilians was actually at the helm at the time of the collision. (Associated
Press, 12th-19th March 2001.) The Court's judgement was made public on 20th April 2001, and required both the commanding officer and the fire control technician to be dismissed the service for unprofessional conduct, but not court martialled for criminal negligence (Reuters, 20th April 2001). The presiding admirals had already commented that the captain had allowed an atmosphere of sloppiness and lack of discipline to prevail within his command (CNN, 20th March 2001). |
|
Kuwait Friendly Fire Incident, 2001: In this incident on 12th March 2001, a US Navy F18 from the aircraft carrier USS Harry S. Truman mistakenly dropped a bomb on friendly forces while practising close air support, killing six soldiers. Investigations are under way, and will concentrate on the ground-to-air communications involved in targetting such missions. It has already been suggested, however, that the fault lies with the ground end of that link, and not with the pilot, David O. Zimmerman. Another possibility is that faulty data had been entered into the F18's computer systems prior to take-off. The forward air controller, Timothy B. Crusing, was injured in but survived the incident, and will be interviewed when fit to give evidence. (Associated Press, 12th and 15th March 2001) |
|
Hainan Island
Mid-Air Collision, 2001: In this
incident on 1st April 2001, a US Navy EP-3E spy plane, on patrol along the
fringes of Chinese airspace off Hainan Island, collided with a Chinese jet
fighter sent up to monitor it. The fighter crashed, killing its pilot, and
the EP-3E was forced to execute an emergency landing at a Chinese military
airfield. Both countries are holding the others to blame for the aerial
jostling which brought about the collision, but appear to agree that the
incident took place in international airspace. The aircrew were released
after sustained diplomacy on 12th April 2001. There is also an
emerging story of what might be an prolonged
confrontation. Former US Defence Secretary William Cohen reported since the
incident that the US had complained to the Chinese in January 2001 at the
unnecessarily aggressive tactics of its fighters. This earlier complaint was
lodged after Chinese aircraft came "within a matter of feet" of a
surveillance aircraft, and another source reports that the pilot who died was
"known for his aggressive tactics" (CNN, 5th April 2001). Details
of these daily confrontations are, of course, classified. The US will not be
giving up its surveillance flights (Reuters, 12th April 2001). Unless and until details emerge, this case will contain little of direct value to the study of human error, save as an illustration of Finagle's Law, namely that if something can go wrong it usually will do, given enough time. |
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