Air University Review, May-June 1969
At 8A.M. on Friday, November 1, 1968, Washington time, the United States ended the bombing of North Vietnam. This measure was taken after we had reason to believe that the demilitarized zone would not be abused and attacks would not be launched against the major cities of South Vietnam. More important, we stopped the bombing as a step toward a mutual de-escalation of the war and toward the advancement of peace talks in which the government of South Vietnam could participate. It was clear in this critical negotiation, as it has been before, that air power was one of our principal bargaining counters; it can quickly be turned up, down, or off.
Although the events of Vietnam are still close upon us, it is not too early to reflect on the contributions of air power in that conflict. We should evaluate the assertions of the critics (who look at the war from various points of view): that the use of aircraft against guerrilla units is like swatting gnats with a sledgehammer, that air attack kills more friendly troops and civilians than it does enemy soldiers, that strategic bombing could have ended the war promptly if we had just struck the right targets, that interdiction attacks against enemy transportation have failed to achieve their objective. Most important, it should be possible to reach some tentative conclusions about how air power can help us fight any future limited war. We must judge what sort of air power we need to maintain, what we should and should not expect it to accomplish, and what kinds of operations should be authorized. My own evaluation leads me to the following major conclusions:
1. Air power has played a major role in defeating guerrilla warfare tactics through highly responsive firepower and airlift.
2. Strike aircraft are capable of very detailed discrimination between friends and foe.
3. The need to keep war limited in the nuclear age may often prevent the use of strategic bombing against the sources of supply.
4. Even when the sources of supply are not attacked, air interdiction of supply lines can destroy, disrupt, and delay the enemy’s resupply and replacements, forcing him to adjust his level of combat to fit his uncertain logistics and insuring his defeat in any attempted sustained combat.
5. Interdiction can also place a severe strain on the enemy’s economy, manpower supply, and political control system. This raises the cost of the war and makes a negotiated peace seem more desirable. But there is no one best level of interdiction. Our national leaders must weigh the probable effect on ground combat, the political effect on the enemy government, and the risk of expanded war.
6. Our Air Force requires—and is developing—new types of equipment and munitions for maximum effectiveness in limited war.
7. We must not gear our future planning too narrowly to our experience in Vietnam.
In 1964 Communist leaders in Hanoi launched the final phase of a campaign they had been working toward for many years. They had organized and trained Viet Cong units from platoon size to entire regiments and were sending in individual soldiers and whole battalions of the regular North Vietnamese army. At this point, the U.S. had no combat units in operation in Vietnam; we had only some 20,000 advisers with South Vietnamese forces. As the situation deteriorated in early 1965, the United States began air support operations to buy time for South Vietnam. We used A-I propeller-driven attack aircraft and F-100 fighter-bombers to break up attacks by enemy battalions and regiments. We also began air strikes against military installations and supply routes in North Vietnam in an effort to disrupt the flow of men and supplies. From its initial use, air power has allowed the U.S. to neutralize many of the advantages that the enemy gained from guerrilla warfare and jungle concealment. I judge that without it we could not have prevented South Vietnam from being overrun.
In an area of the world largely devoid of all but the simplest roads and trails, air power permitted Allied units to combat effectively the small but widespread enemy attacks on isolated camps and villages. Our ability to concentrate overwhelming firepower has allowed us to expend ammunition rather than additional lives.
The value of air support was dramatically shown during the Pleiku Campaign of late 1965. This series of battles was triggered by the Communist attack on the small Special Forces camp at Plei Me, close to both Cambodia and the Ia Drang River, which serves as a highway to Vietnam’s vital central highlands. The camp came under attack by a multibattalion force of Viet Cong guerrillas on the night of October 19. As the Viet Cong attempted to storm Plei Me, C-123 and C-47 transports dropped the first of thousands of flares, and fighter-bombers dove in to strike targets as close as 300 feet from the perimeter. Day after day the Viet Cong regrouped, and day after day they were dispersed by air attack. Our airmen brought in reinforcements to assist the besieged garrison. Finally, when the enemy attempted to retreat to his sanctuaries in the west, U.S. units began an immediate, relentless pursuit, relying primarily on aircraft-including everything from Army helicopters to Strategic Air Command B-52s.
As the combat spilled over from Plei Me to fierce engagements in the Ia Drang Valley, logistical aircraft eliminated “middleman” strips and flew supplies directly into the forward support locations. When necessary, fighter-bombers stayed on continuous air alert over the tactical area.
In that same campaign we first used heavy bombers to increase the tactical firepower brought to bear against the enemy. Enemy forces had entrenched themselves in a formidable system of bunkers which were overlaid with a resistant, triple-tiered jungle canopy. Because an extremely heavy volume of fire was necessary to destroy these targets, our commanders decided to use B-52s carrying fifty-one 750-pound general-purpose bombs in each aircraft (a number since increased). These weapons penetrated the jungle canopy and released sufficient explosive force to destroy the bunker and trench system, even without scoring direct hits.
Today ground commanders can coordinate B-52 strikes with rapidly maneuvering ground forces. B-52s, already airborne, can be diverted from their preplanned targets to strike enemy concentrations as they are discovered.
The Pleiku Campaign became a model for air-ground cooperation in the years to follow. A U.S. Army officer described our air support of South Vietnamese Regional Force units and U.S. Special Forces at Loc Ninh in 1967 as follows:
If it hadn’t been for air, we would have lost this place. The air chopped them up at the wires. My men had about 30 rounds of ammunition left per man when the attackers were driven off, never having broken the perimeter. They came right down our perimeter with cannon, antipersonnel mines, and then when the enemy began pulling back, they hit them with high explosive stuff.
Perhaps the most decisive battle occurred slightly more than two years later, when the North Vietnamese massed their largest concentration of forces in the war around still another camp. This time it was Khe Sanh.* In that memorable confrontation the opposing ground elements stood in clear imbalance: 20,000 North Vietnamese regulars besieged 6000 U.S. Marines and South Vietnamese rangers. Despite those odds, however, there was no repeat of Dien Bien Phu.
*See “Khe Sanh: Keeping an Outpost Alive” by Major General Burl W. McLaughlin in Air University Review, XX, 1 (November-December 1968), 57-77.
Allied aircrews flew water, food, and ammunition to the ground forces. Airlift delivered a daily average of 150 tons of cargo to Khe Sanh. Had the outpost been approachable from the ground, this movement alone would have required a 60-truck convoy each day.
To complement this essentially defensive airlift effort, the U.S. brought in other forces. Our reconnaissance aircraft used sophisticated sensors to uncover enemy movements, while forward air controllers visually searched the ground. Allied strike and bomber aircraft hit at the North Vietnamese with more than 100,000 tons of bombs and 700,000 rounds of cannon and machine-gun fire during the siege. Ground-based radar controllers directed B-52s along precise bombing tracks and told them when to release their bombs. As the enemy moved closer to the perimeter of the outpost, so did the bombing.
Finally, the unceasing pressure forced General Giap, the North Vietnamese Defense Minister and architect of the campaign, to withdraw his troops. Prisoners estimated that over 75 percent of some enemy units were killed, and we counted nearly 1300 enemy dead left behind on the battlefield on just one sweep. Of the enemy, General William C. Westmoreland said: “His back was broken by air power.”
U.S. air strikes have been unprecedentedly responsive and precisely controlled everywhere in the Southeast Asia combat area. Discrimination between friend and foe, combatant and civilian, has been manyfold better than in any previous war. In South Vietnam there have been very few casualties to friendly forces or to the civilian population. Early in the war there was a problem in distinguishing enemy base camps from peasant villages, but this was solved by careful evaluation of each target area by both the local Vietnamese and American intelligence. Even in the case of known enemy base camps, warnings were given to permit the evacuation of the civilian population. And fortunately, most enemy units were based in heavy jungle areas where there was no civil population. So the truth is that most of the civilian casualties have been inflicted on the populace by the enemy, who seems to believe that terror attacks on civilians will help him win the war.
The consensus in both Allied reports and captured enemy documents is that the responsiveness of air power, together with its ability to concentrate firepower, has taken the initiative from the enemy, denied him freedom of movement, and kept him from grouping for attack.
Ironically, our success in Vietnam has been denigrated by critics who make a negative comparison with the results of strategic bombing in World War II. And the temptation to make such negative comparisons is not hard to understand. World War II clearly proved that properly conducted strategic bombing can end a war by destroying the source of the enemy’s strength, but World War II was quite a different kind of war from the present conflict in Southeast Asia.
In 1944 President Roosevelt commissioned the much-quoted (and often misquoted) Strategic Bombing Survey, a careful analysis of bombing results by hundreds of highly qualified military and civilian personnel. What the Survey concluded is perhaps not generally realized, even by those who refer to it in commenting on air power. With respect to Germany, it found Allied air power to be “ . . . decisive in the war in western Europe.” Air power won the battle in the air, assisted in the elimination of the U-boat threat, helped turn the tide overwhelmingly in favor of Allied ground forces, and brought the German economy to virtual collapse. “The German experience suggests that even a first-class military power—rugged and resilient as Germany was—cannot live long under full-scale and free exploitation of air weapons over the heart of her territory.” In Japan, the findings showed that even before the atomic bomb was employed, “one of the important factors inducing Japan’s leaders to accept unconditional surrender was a realization that the Japanese armed forces had lost their ability to protect the people and that under the impact of direct air attack . . . their confidence in victory and determination to continue the war were rapidly declining.”
But it was not the bombing of population centers that led to decisive results. City bombing did not seem to affect the war effort greatly, whether because of the patriotism and heroism of the people—as was certainly the case in the London blitz—or because of police-state controls, or a combination of the two. The Survey found that:
Under ruthless Nazi control [the people] showed surprising resistance to the terror and hardships of repeated air attack, to the destruction of their homes and belongings, and to the conditions under which they were reduced to live. Their morale . . . declined, but they continued to work efficiently as long as the physical means of production remained. The power of a police state over its people cannot be underestimated.
Against Japan, population attacks may have had a greater effect on morale. Sixty-four percent of the people indicated that prior to surrender they had reached a point where they felt personally unable to go on with the war. But the Survey found that until the end of World War II “national traditions of obedience and conformity, reinforced by police organization, remained effective in controlling the behavior of the population.”
Even in that all-out war, the Survey concluded that to destroy the enemy capability to continue the war required not general attacks on cities but “sustained and accurate attack against carefully selected targets.” (Italics mine.) Even general attacks against munitions factories were disappointing. Air operations became decisive only when concentrated against certain vulnerable basic industries, especially oil production and the transportation network. (The contrast with North Vietnam, which has none of the former and comparatively much less need for the latter, is obvious.) During 1944, production of aviation fuel in Germany and its occupied territories dropped 85 percent and motor fuel some 75 percent. With the shortage of aviation fuel, the enemy was forced to leave combat aircraft sitting on the ground and was unable to train replacement pilots. Attacks against railroads could not prevent military movements but began to strangle the economy by the end of 1944. Coal deliveries dropped to one-third of minimum industrial requirements and were often insufficient to provide even the fuel needed for locomotives. Thus, although many munitions factories remained intact and total production continued to increase until the end of 1944, quite suddenly their products could not be delivered and their production lines could not continue in operation.
The Survey concluded that “even if the final military victories that carried the Allied armies across the Rhine and Oder Rivers had not taken place. . . the indications are convincing that the German armies, completely bereft of ammunition and motive power, would have had to cease fighting within a few months.”
In Japan, and again I quote the Survey:
We underestimated the ability of our air attack on her home islands, coupled as it was with blockade and previous military defeats, to achieve unconditional surrender without invasion. By July 1945, [though] the weight of our air attack had as yet reached only a fraction of its planned proportion, Japan’s industrial potential had been fatally reduced . . . and her leaders, convinced of the inevitability of defeat, were preparing to accept surrender.
The memory of the German and Japanese economies grinding to a halt left some people with the naive hope that bombing would be able to terminate any war. However, this sort of optimism ignored the realities of today’s weapons and today’s political alignments. For the Enola Gay not only destroyed Hiroshima; it irrevocably forced constraint upon might and underlined the inseparability of war and politics. In today’s nuclear age, even the smallest conflict involving one of the major powers has within it the potential threat of a larger and possibly total war.
Since we sought to accomplish our objectives in South Vietnam through a limited rather than a world war, air power could not play the same role it played in World War II. The source of enemy munitions was not North Vietnam but the Soviet Union and Communist China, both outside the war zone.
In Vietnam, there was no sophisticated industrial system. There were no transportation jugulars, such as oil refineries, whose destruction would immobilize the North Vietnamese economy. There was no complex mechanized military force awaiting vast amounts of supplies at the far end of an intricate logistical network.
In North Vietnam itself, factories accounted for only 10 percent of the gross national product. There was only one steel plant and one cement plant (both were badly damaged by air strikes). There were fewer than a dozen power plants, which collectively generated less power than is used by a U.S. city of some 200,000 people (and most of these plants were badly damaged by air strikes). Since there was little industry, a small number of trains, together with limited truck and barge traffic, could handle essential transportation requirements-as opposed to the thousands of trains needed by our enemies in World War II.
Our purpose in initiating the bombing of North Vietnam was not to destroy a primitive country but to make its leaders realize that the costs of aggression were high. This could not be strategic bombing, since most of the strategic targets were not in Vietnam. We took as our objective neither total victory nor foreign conquest. We rejected a Munich, but sought less than the unconditional surrender of World War II. All we sought was to stop the forward pressure of an aggressive movement and allow the South Vietnamese to select their own government. And in this respect it may be said we have largely achieved our goal. External aggression has been blocked in Vietnam, and the South Vietnamese now have before them the opportunity to forge a viable nation, a task which only they can do for themselves. The 250 million people in Southeast Asia surely recognize these facts, as do the 150 million in South Korea, Japan, and Taiwan. Their chances of being dominated by China are much less today as a result of our stand in Vietnam.
With the industrial support of North Vietnam coming from abroad, many of the lessons learned from the World War II Bombing Survey were inapplicable. The situation more closely resembles the Korean War. There, too, we fought a limited war where the main sources of supply were outside the zone of conflict. There, too, we could not fully apply air power against production centers and supporting industries because they were not in North Korea at all. Instead, we could only try to block the movement of supplies by interdicting them.
In Korea, we found that interdiction could reduce the enemy’s supply levels and limit his military operations. Under the circumstances then prevailing, however, we were unable to end that war by cutting off supplies, even though the enemy used a conventional army with large ammunition requirements and even though there were no restrictions on bombing within the limits of North Korea. We learned that supplies for a stabilized front could be moved on the backs of men if necessary. But bombing inflicted heavy costs on such operations and helped influence the enemy to accept a reasonable peace.
In the present war, no responsible U.S. government official has ever suggested that the flow of supplies from North Vietnam could be restricted to the point that the enemy would not be able to continue guerrilla warfare. Since enemy forces could continue this sort of warfare by fighting only an average of two or three days a month, they would need a total of only some 100 tons per day of externally supplied food, weapons, and ammunition, compared to the 3200 tons per day used by the Chinese and North Koreans in the Korean War and the 2400 tons per day of explosives alone used by the Germans in World War II. In Germany, when thousands of trains required large classification yards and fairly regular schedules, air power restricted traffic by destroying yards and cutting bridges. But in Vietnam trains are more independent of yards, and the much smaller quantities of supplies can be carried on the backs of porters around breaks in the rail line or across rivers on small ferry craft.
Many bulk supplies come in through the port of Haiphong, but the rail lines from China are also capable of handling this material. In addition to the rail lines, trucks and porters from China could handle the Haiphong imports. Lighters could also be used to unload ships at points other than Haiphong. Concentrated attacks against both Haiphong and the rail and road networks from China could have restricted the flow and greatly raised the costs to the Communists, but this had to be weighed against the risk of widening the war.
Although interdiction could not cut off all supplies, it could prevent high levels of sustained enemy operations in the South. Clearly, operations such as the artillery attacks on our positions in the demilitarized zone, and particularly the siege of Khe Sanh, could not be maintained for long periods of time. Even if the 20,000 enemy troops around Khe Sanh had used the estimated average logistic support of the entire war effort in the South-some 100 tons per day-they could not have matched the firepower of our 6000 defenders. The latter received over 150 tons of supplies per day by airlift and were supported by more than 1500 tons per day of munitions delivered on enemy targets by bomber and fighter aircraft.
Air strikes against military installations, roads, railroads, and watercraft in North Vietnam slowed troop movements and destroyed or delayed many supplies on the way to the South. As a result, enemy units in the South often were short of personnel and munitions. They could not rely upon regular resupply and instead had to depend upon hidden caches, which often were discovered by the Allies before they could be used.
Eventually, our bombing placed practical restraints on the buildup of enemy troops by draining manpower-we believe some 600,000 men-into additional transportation tasks, road and railroad repairs, and antiaircraft defenses. This undoubtedly contributed to the gradual decline in age level and training of the troops infiltrating to the South.
It follows, then, that while interdiction could not end the war by completely eliminating essential supplies, it could make a major contribution to the combined war effort being waged by ground, sea, and air forces throughout Vietnam, and it did. Interdiction could consume enemy materiel, personnel, and vital energy, and it did. It could disrupt and delay supplies and replacements, hindering enemy combat operations in the South, and it did. It could provide a key lever in our effort to bring the enemy to accept negotiations, and it has done that, too. There seems no doubt that the American and Allied lives saved in Southeast Asia as a result of the interdiction campaign and the move toward a negotiated peace have been worth the cost of aircraft lost and even the casualties—thankfully relatively low—in our air operations over North Vietnam.
Though our bombing of North Vietnam was essential to disrupt infiltration and supply schedules, raise the costs of aggression, and give hope to the South Vietnamese, this left unanswered such questions as what kind of bombing and how much.
It was clear that we should not engage in massive attacks against the civilian population. Unlike World War II, this was not an unlimited war. Furthermore, even if population attacks could have been justified, their military value was uncertain. As noted in the Strategic Bombing Survey, population attacks were ineffective against Germany and seemed to affect Japan only after her industry was paralyzed and her allies gone.
Since our intention in Vietnam was to influence North Vietnam to end its aggression in the South and since the level of this aggression could have increased manyfold had China entered the war, the U.S. government tried to avoid an extreme counter action. Initial bombing was limited to military installations and transportation systems in the southernmost part of North Vietnam. The Administration felt that this course would provide the best chance of influencing the North Vietnamese to accept a political solution rather than enlarge the military engagement.
Unfortunately, Hanoi and its allies were ready to pay a high price for military victory, since they considered the war a critical test of a new strategy. General Giap, North Vietnam’s Defense Minister, asserted: “South Vietnam is the model of the national liberation movement of our time . . . . If the special warfare that the U.S. imperialists are testing . . . is overcome, then it can be defeated everywhere in the world.”
As the flow of supplies and infiltration continued, our air attacks increased. Some critics have found fault with the gradualism of the U.S. bombing policy. Even some of those who favored a graduated bombing campaign felt that a more rapid buildup of attacks on the significant targets in North Vietnam would have been more effective than the policy followed. Their argument stems from the classical military doctrine which emphasizes surprise and concentration of force. It now seems likely that more extensive initial strikes against military installations and supply routes and a more rapid expansion of interdiction might have had a greater impact in driving home to the enemy the probable high costs of the war. We will never know for sure whether the increased pressure of such strikes would have brought us closer to peace.
A slow expansion of interdiction is probably not the best tactic, since it allows time for the enemy to become conditioned to the slowly rising costs. However, immediate unlimited interdiction in North Vietnam would have meant an increased risk of expanded war, which we preferred to avoid. In 1950 the risk of expanded war had been misjudged—and underestimated—when Chinese armies responded to our advance into North Korea, even though at that time we had a near monopoly on nuclear weapons and were acting as part of a United Nations force.
Even today there is no certain answer to the question of exactly what level of interdiction we should have chosen in Southeast Asia. All that can be said is that our air attacks were planned with the hope of achieving optimum political-military effect. We increased the bombing-and on occasion decreased it-in ways thought most likely to both handicap enemy military operations and influence the North Vietnamese to seek a negotiated settlement. Changes in the pattern were sometimes gradual, sometimes abrupt, but always aimed at the advancement of our ultimate goal.
By the time air operations began in Southeast Asia we had made considerable progress toward improving our conventional war capabilities. Nevertheless, our conventional munitions and equipment had not been designed specifically for the type of warfare we encountered in Vietnam, partly because it takes so long for policy changes to be supported by hardware changes and partly from the immobility of large organizations. Wars at higher levels of intensity, in other environments, pose the highest risks for the U.S., and thus most of our Air Force was oriented toward those circumstances.
We have been fighting two air wars in Vietnam, distinguished by the types of targets and the extent of air defense.
In the north, the F-4 and F-IO5 aircraft have had to suppress missile and gun emplacements in order to reach their targets. The antiaircraft fire has been the most concentrated in the history of warfare. To deal with these obstacles, we developed tactics and new electronic equipment to defeat the enemy surface-to-air missiles and the radars directing enemy defensive fire. This has virtually neutralized the North Vietnamese surface-to-air missile threat. To further suppress antiaircraft fire, we perfected packages of bomblets that were very effective against gun crews. New glide bombs, using a variety of guidance systems, increased bombing accuracy and reduced aircrew exposure to target defenses.
In South Vietnam a more permissive environment allowed us to increase firepower and concentrate less on aircraft survivability.
In supporting outposts and garrisons we needed highly accurate and heavy firepower available for long periods of time, day or night. Transports, such as the imperishable C-47 and later the C-119, were converted to gunships carrying several fast-firing machine guns and thousands of rounds of ammunition. The guns were mounted to fire from the side of the aircraft so that the pilot could keep up a continuous stream of withering fire while circling the target. Larger C-130 gunships were equipped with a variety of sensors that could find the enemy hidden in the jungle and also deprive him of the protection of darkness. Whenever it became necessary to interdict large enemy storage and collection areas and infiltration routes, the B-52 carpetbombed in a tactical support role.
We have made considerable progress toward overcoming darkness and poor visibility with airborne floodlight illumination and sophisticated optical devices. Moreover, ground-based radar has helped to solve the problem of poor visibility by directing aircraft to bomb-release points. However, we cannot assert that we have developed all of the needed capabilities. With one eye on Southeast Asia and another on possible future tactical demands elsewhere, we are still working hard to improve both interdiction and close air support of ground troops under night and bad weather conditions.
Many nations have discovered that effectiveness in one war can easily lead to ineffectiveness in a subsequent war if its planners spend too much time looking confidently backward. To be sure, lessons can be drawn from the past. But it is doubtful that we should plan on the basis of the same historical or geographical conditions recurring. Possibly the worst approach we could take to the challenge of improving our air capabilities would be to narrow our point of view to the problems of Vietnam. It is highly unlikely that the same political and military conditions will face our nation in any future conflict. In a war with an enemy lacking access to outside support, bombing the sources of supply should be decisive as it was in World War II. Similarly, interdiction could be quite different when related to a mobile conventional battle, as in the Normandy campaign.
Moreover, in some future war we might have to fight for air superiority, whereas in Vietnam we achieved it almost by default. Therefore, we must have the capability to defeat enemy air forces in air-to-air combat in future conflicts. Winning the air battle may win the war; losing the air battle will almost surely forfeit the chance for military success.
Although the most likely future conflicts probably will be fought in physical environments different from Vietnam and could be at very different levels of intensity, they are still likely to be fought under similarly stringent political controls. Therefore, the Air Force must be flexible enough to adjust its operations quickly to conform to both the political and military requirements of particular conflicts. Air power has again shown itself to be uniquely versatile. It can be quickly and precisely applied against aggression, in a variety of ways and at a rapidly varying intensity—for military purposes, as a political signal, or in complex military-political negotiations. If we fail to understand, perfect, and make use of these characteristics, we are blunting or discarding one of our most valuable means of defense.
Washington, D.C.
In a sense this article constitutes Dr. Harold Brown’s valedictory as Secretary of the Air Force, for it was written during his final days in that office. In February of this year Dr. Brown took up his new duties as President of the California Institute of Technology at Pasadena.
The Editor
Dr. Harold Brown (PH.D., Columbia University) was Secretary of the Air Force from October 1965 to February 1969, when he became President of California Institute of Technology. He was Director of Defense Research and Engineering, Department of Defense, 1961-65. Between 1947 and 1950 he lectured in physics at Columbia University and Stevens Institute of Technology and then joined the University of California Radiation Laboratory as research scientist. In 1952 Dr. Brown joined the staff of Lawrence Radiation Laboratory and in 1960 became its Director. He was a consultant to the Air Force Scientific Advisory Board, 1956-57, and a member of that board, 1958-61. He was a member of the Polaris Steering Committee, 1956-58. He was Senior Scientific Advisor to the U.S. Delegation, Conference on Discontinuance of Nuclear Weapons Test, 1958-59, and a member of the Scientific Advisory Committee on Ballistic Missiles to the Secretary of Defense, 1958-61. After serving as consultant to several panels of the President’s Science Advisory Committee, 1958-60, he was appointed a member of the committee in 1961.
Disclaimer
The conclusions and opinions expressed in this document are those of the author cultivated in the freedom of expression, academic environment of Air University. They do not reflect the official position of the U.S. Government, Department of Defense, the United States Air Force or the Air University.
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