Winning Armageddon: Curtis LeMay and Strategic Air Command, 1948–1957

WINNING ARMAGEDDON

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and the Fall of Singapore

Flight Risk: The Coalition’s Air Advisory Mission

in Afghanistan, 2005–2015

The History of Military Aviation

Paul J. Springer, editor

This series is designed to explore previously ignored facets of the history of airpower. It includes a wide variety of disciplinary approaches, scholarly perspectives, and argumentative styles. Its fundamental goal is to analyze the past, present, and potential future utility of airpower and to enhance our understanding of the changing roles played by aerial assets in the formulation and execution of national military strategies. It encompasses the incredibly diverse roles played by airpower, which include but are not limited to efforts to achieve air superiority; strategic attack; intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance missions; airlift operations; close-air support; and more. Of course, airpower does not exist in a vacuum. There are myriad terrestrial support operations required to make airpower functional, and examinations of these missions is also a goal of this series.

In less than a century, airpower developed from flights measured in minutes to the ability to circumnavigate the globe without landing. Airpower has become the military tool of choice for rapid responses to enemy activity, the primary deterrent to aggression by peer competitors, and a key enabler to military missions on the land and sea. This series provides an opportunity to examine many of the key issues associated with its usage in the past and present, and to influence its development for the future.

WINNING ARMAGEDDON

CURTIS LEMAY AND

STRATEGIC AIR COMMAND,

1948–1957

TREVOR ALBERTSON

Naval Institute Press

Annapolis, Maryland

Naval Institute Press

291 Wood Road

Annapolis, MD 21402

© 2019 by Trevor Albertson

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Albertson, Trevor, date, author.

Title: Winning armageddon : Curtis LeMay and Strategic Air Command, 1948–1957 / Trevor Albertson.

Description: Annapolis, Maryland : Naval Institute Press, [2019] | Series: The history of military aviation | Includes bibliographical references and index.

Identifiers: LCCN 2018060112 (print) | LCCN 2019001252 (ebook) | ISBN 9781682474471 (epdf) | ISBN 9781682474228 (hardcover : alk. paper)

Subjects: LCSH: LeMay, Curtis E. | First strike (Nuclear strategy) | United States—Military policy. | Nuclear warfare—United States—History—20th century. | United States. Air Force. Strategic Air Command—History.

Classification: LCC UA923 (ebook) | LCC UA923 .A43 2019 (print) | DDC 355.02/17097309045—dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018060112

Print editions meet the requirements of ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992 (Permanence of Paper).

Printed in the United States of America.

27  26  25  24  23  22  21  20  19 9  8  7  6  5  4  3  2  1

First printing

For Belle, Buddy, and Tallulah; thanks, Beags.

Contents

Foreword by Conrad C. Crane

Preface

Acknowledgments

01    Reasons for Fear

02    When It Became Real

03    Pressing Ahead

04    Clarity in Expression

05    Strong until the End

Conclusion

Notes

Bibliography

Index

Foreword

My favorite elective to teach when I was a professor of history at West Point was entitled Generalship and the Art of Command. The course examined great captains such as Alexander and Napoleon but also focused on commanders classified as transformational leaders who turned losers into winners in tough circumstances. Examples included Philippe Petain, who rejuvenated the French army after the mutinies of 1917, and Matthew Ridgway, who restored the fighting spirit of the U.S. Eighth Army in Korea in early 1951 after the longest retreat in U.S. military history. The course also included an examination of selected naval and air leaders, including Curtis LeMay. No U.S. general better fits the definition of transformational leader. LeMay inspired outstanding performance in the units he commanded in the Eighth Air Force and the Twentieth Air Force during World War II and in the postwar Strategic Air Command. His unique operational expertise and leadership skills were well recognized by his superiors, who consistently gave him the hardest jobs in the most critical places. He was the most renowned problem solver in the Army Air Forces/U.S. Air Force. As Brig. Gen. Lauris Norstad, Twentieth Air Force chief of staff, remarked when LeMay was given command of all bombing operations against Japan out of the Mariana Islands in early 1945, LeMay is an operator, the rest of us are planners.

One of LeMay’s greatest attributes was his ingenuity. No airman in history has been more innovative. He did not just think outside of the box; to him, there was no box. He envisioned no restrictions beyond those imposed by technological limitations. During World War II in Europe, he came up with the optimal design of staggered bomber formations to increase defensive firepower, implemented the nonevasive action bomb run to improve targeting accuracy, and initiated the training of selected lead crews to specialize on each objective. He pioneered the use of after-action reviews and systems analysis. In the Pacific, he resorted to low-level night fire-bombing of Japanese cities that decimated industry there while killing hundreds of thousands of civilians—one of the key blows that prompted Japan’s surrender. After that devastating war, he became the main architect of the Berlin airlift, shifting easily from dumping incendiaries on Japanese children to dropping candy to German ones, and executing many extralegal actions to circumvent peacetime rules of European allies. And he transformed the postwar Strategic Air Command into the most competent and deadliest military force on the planet.

It is not surprising then, as Trevor Albertson so thoroughly reveals, that LeMay intensely analyzed the problem of winning the nuclear war he would have to fight. And again his solution was unique, shaped by his evaluation of the capabilities of the weapons at his disposal. His plan for a preemptive war was a counterforce strategy that would take away most of the enemy’s capability to fight back, leaving them with the decision of whether to expand the war into the countervalue realm of indiscriminately destroying cities. While often inaccurately compared to the character of Gen. Jack D. Ripper in the movie Dr. Strangelove, who launches his bombers at the Soviet Union without permission, LeMay more closely resembled the character of Gen. Buck Turgidson, with a plan to limit civilian casualties as much as possible when war became inevitable, depending on the breaks. Exhibiting great political sensitivity to the impact of his ideas, however, LeMay was very careful how he promulgated them. Albertson clearly explains their origin and logic.

In this era of increasing nuclear threats from rogue nations and terrorists, it may well be time to relook at LeMay’s thinking about the use of nuclear weapons. We do not need the Bulletin of Atomic Scientists moving the hands of their doomsday clock closer to midnight to remind us all that we are getting closer to seeing another nuclear explosion somewhere; there are plenty of other signs. It would behoove U.S. leaders and the public to rethink the possible utilization of such weapons of mass destruction; our enemies do. LeMay’s method of examining the problem can provide a model about how to structure such an analysis. The final answers will probably be different than his were, but the process will still require the same clear, realistic, and innovative thinking that Curtis LeMay demonstrated so well.

Conrad C. Crane

U.S. Army Heritage and Education Center

Preface

The completion of this manuscript and the beginning of Strategic Air Command (SAC)—at least as it was known under Curtis E. LeMay’s command and thereafter—occurred in the same location: above Tokyo. The process of editing the manuscript began on the thirty-sixth floor of a Tokyo hotel, where a realization struck, that LeMay’s bombing of the city led, at least in part, to the building of the modern world. For LeMay, his time at SAC also began over Tokyo, with his decision to firebomb the city. In so doing, LeMay built the modern concept of strategic bombardment; he also laid the groundwork of modernity through the destruction of Tokyo, allowing it to reemerge as the prototypical modern metropolis. It was a practical end to a practical concern. Through violence, LeMay forced a new beginning—though he simply wanted to force an end to World War II. The new creation, the concept of massive destruction in short order and on a scale never before seen, presaged what came later with atomic weapons and SAC. The command was the embodiment of the Cold War; it was also representative of the hopes and fears of the United States. Its rise signaled the Cold War’s start, and its demise was a harbinger of that conflict’s conclusion.

In a practical sense, LeMay’s tenure at SAC was the beginning of U.S. Cold War nuclear policy. LeMay’s time at the nuclear command predated many of the policy decisions that have been used as milestones to define the conflict—Harry S. Truman’s National Security Council Report 68, Dwight D. Eisenhower’s New Look, and John F. Kennedy’s Flexible Response were prime examples. The pragmatic foundation of those ideas, however, was LeMay’s efforts to build an effective defense against a new kind of war. He did it before the policy leaders made decisions to do so. As a result, LeMay’s efforts toward a workable defense highlighted his practical nature. Pragmatism drove LeMay, personally and professionally. LeMay wanted the solution to work—the first time.

The debate by U.S. historians over the end of the Cold War and the credit for its demise in many ways discounts the very history of the conflict. Whether Ronald Reagan, Mikhail Gorbachev, or a host of others in the 1980s and 1990s brought an end to the Cold War was less salient to the discourse than the role of the ideas, practices, policies, and actions of those in critical positions at its outset. Truman, George Kennan, Dean Acheson, Paul Nitze, LeMay, and Eisenhower had more to do with the end of the Cold War than those in power at its actual conclusion because they created the conditions that defined what the conflict meant—and the conditions to be met in order for it to be called off.

General Curtis E. LeMay was the second and most influential commander of SAC, and his tutelage gave teeth to the political-diplomatic edicts of the period. The command’s nuclear bomber force, through its ability to deliver such weapons against distant targets, gave the Cold War its early and ominous overtones. Bookending the conflict were LeMay’s arrival at SAC in 1948, and the stand-down of that organization’s nuclear bomber alert force in 1991 and the command as a whole in 1992. The existence of SAC gave as much reason for the conflict to begin as it did for it to end; no one wanted a nuclear war—especially one born of the military construct shaped by LeMay. But that was only part of the account. A story of greater importance revolved around preemption.

As SAC commander from fall 1948 until summer 1957, LeMay advocated for justified preemption of Soviet military forces. Preemption—military strikes undertaken in an effort to preclude an imminent enemy attack—differed from the notion of preventive war—a conflict undertaken with a conviction that while no imminent threat is present, delaying war would only increase the eventual danger from an enemy threat. Rather than arguing for preventive war, LeMay maintained support for preemptive strikes in response to an imminent Soviet attack against the United States. The story of LeMay’s argument for preemption paralleled the development of U.S. policy toward the Soviet Union. While national leaders talked deterrence, LeMay, sometimes quietly and at other times more forcefully, made his own case for something different. His staid argument, made repeatedly, gave life to a message that was not in step with the one preached by U.S. policy leaders. That dissonance called into question the nature of U.S. foreign policy during the early Cold War and the reasons the nation took the stance it did. At the same time, LeMay’s push for preemption did not alter the publicly declared U.S. policy of deterrence.

That LeMay sought first strikes does not automatically place him among the pantheon of historical warmongers. Rather, LeMay’s pursuit of preemption was a result of fear of a widespread nuclear war expanding into an all-consuming situation that killed millions of civilians, destroyed their cities, and leveled commerce in short order. LeMay believed that he could prevent that from happening for the United States and, in a subsidiary sense, for the Soviet Union as well. If the elimination of enemy strategic airpower before its employment but after a foe’s decision to go to war led to the capitulation of that enemy, then not only were targets in the United States saved, but there would also be no need to attack the opponent’s cities, people, and industry. It was an ambitious hope that spoke volumes for who LeMay was and how he viewed the world. This is the story of his advocacy.

Acknowledgments

First and foremost, I want to thank God for His grace in making this book happen. To my wife Katie goes much of the credit for getting my dissertation, the antecedent to this work, completed and this book to print. Her kindness, her gentleness, and her compassion over the years have reminded me constantly that I am a lucky man. I couldn’t have asked for a better wife.

I hope this book helps build a better world for my children than the one I grew up in. Although the Cold War is part of history, fear and the weapons that drove it are still with us. To my children: Don’t let fear govern your decisions and thoughts. Be understanding, but also be courageous and stand up for what you believe in. More than likely, as the Cold War informed us, the other side shares the same fears, hopes, and dreams—but do not sacrifice yours willingly.

My parents deserve a share of the credit for this project and for much of the success I have been blessed with in life. From an early age, they helped me to understand many lessons of history and the character of the Cold War. They put up with me when I was a tough kid to raise—thanks for not giving up on me. My grandparents were the best anyone could have wanted. They taught me the practice of taking the long view and thus made me a better historian. They showed me love for many years, and I miss them dearly.

Many thanks to Dr. Gregg Herken for his patience while serving as my doctoral and dissertation advisor. He helped me through many tough spots in research and writing. I wish for every graduate student an advisor with the wisdom, knowledge, humor, and forbearance that Gregg had with me. His friendship and advice since graduation have been equally appreciated.

Dr. Paul Springer has been one of the best supporters I have known, and this book would not have happened without him. Dr. John Terino has been a great department chair, personal cheerleader, and supporter who helped make this work a reality. Dr. James Forsyth, dean of the Air Command and Staff College, changed the trajectory of my career. One of the sharpest minds I have ever had the chance to probe is that of Dr. Edwin Redman. His counsel, humor, and insights were instrumental in making this book a better product than it otherwise would have been. Dr. Sebastian Lukasik has been a wise colleague and good friend while also serving as a cheerful writing partner. Dr. Jordan Hayworth is someone I will be able to say I knew before he was a big-name scholar. Jordan, you were a huge help. Dr. S. Michael Pavelec is a wonderful scholar and friend who shepherded me to a successful conclusion. You are a good man, Mike. To the entire Department of Airpower, thank you! You are fantastic colleagues to have. Thanks for letting me join the flying circus.

My life in academia started with Dr. Willard Hardman, to whom I owe much; thanks for all the advice over the years. At the University of California, Merced, Dr. Robin DeLugan, Dr. Ruth Mostern, and Dr. Christopher Viney all were the best dissertation committee members I could have asked for. Their advice—academic, professional, and personal—was valuable, and I wish I had been a better listener. Donald Barclay and Eric Scott at the UC Merced library were also instrumental to my success as a student and growth as a scholar. Dr. Sean Malloy afforded me a grounded understanding of the canon of airpower history that few others would have been able to provide. Dr. James Ortez was a good friend and mentor. Dr. Sam Traina helped immeasurably with numerous administrative decisions as the dean of graduate studies. Dr. Keith Alley was a friendly face when I needed a smile. Dr. Bradford Johnston and Dr. Richard Ravalli were good friends among the graduate student ranks, and I owe them both so much for their advice, support, and companionship.

To the staff of the Library of Congress, I owe a word of thanks. You were the kind of archivists every researcher deserves and few will get. The Library of Congress Manuscript Division is an amazing public resource that deserves more funding, staff, and support than it receives. Because of you all, the nation’s story can be told and truth spoken to power.

If not for the folks at the Air Force Historical Research Agency (AFHRA), this work would be less complete. Barry Spink, Dr. Dan Haulman, Tammy Horton, and Dr. Charles O’Connell: you all made a big difference, and I really appreciate it. Although the Air Force at times had a troubled past, it also had its share of true heroics. History should remember the totality of the Air Force experience, and AFHRA makes examinations of that history possible.

To my Norwich classmates of 2002: do not give up the fight! You are amazing folks who make a real difference in the world. I am proud to have stood at attention in formation with you. I also owe a great debt of gratitude to the faculty at Norwich: Dr. Gary Lord, Dr. Christine McCann, Dr. Reina Pennington, Dr. Thomas Taylor, Dr. Mark Byrnes, and everyone else. To the deputy commandant, Col. Eric Braman, USA: I guess those tours finally took hold. Lastly, to Christopher Hoover, USMC: I get it now. The discipline you instilled in me was a constant refrain throughout this and many other trying events in my life: Don’t quit. Thanks, Drill Sergeant Hoover.

The staff of the Naval Institute Press deserves special credit, particularly Paul Merzlak. Thank you for your guidance and direct advice. A special thanks to my editor, Lisa Yambrick. She was patient with me and my writing.

Thanks as well to Col. Joseph Batman Battaglia, Col. Douglas Drakeley, and Col. Carl Magnusson. Dr. Jerome Martin and Dr. Vince Giroux were larger than life in my personal growth as a historian. Thank you for investing so much in me so early on. It has made a real difference, and you infused me with an expansive interest in airpower history.

Finally, I offer a note of appreciation to Dr. Conrad Crane, an impressive scholar and now a good friend. He helped guide my efforts at the earliest stages of this work and provided critical feedback throughout.

I know there are other friends and colleagues that deserve mention. Please accept my apologies for failing to acknowledge your contributions; your absence is not intended as a slight. Know that your positive influence on me is written across the better pages of this manuscript. Any errors are my own.

Reasons for Fear

Events from late 1948 to mid-1950 gave many in the U.S. military and government, including Curtis LeMay, plenty of cause for fear. Ever since the first confrontation with the Soviet Union over Berlin in early 1948, events had been creating a sense of coming conflict that overshadowed U.S. efforts at stabilizing its place in the postwar world. This fear was magnified by the sense of the unknown that pervaded the era. The Cold War represented a wholly new challenge for the United States and its fledgling Air Force. The nation was not interested in fighting another war, no matter how ideologically opposed the U.S. and Soviet systems appeared; but the United States had no desire to abdicate the international role it had gained as a result of World War II. Striking a delicate balance between the two was a problem left to the Air Force and, specifically, Strategic Air Command.

For LeMay, the period was one of problems and surprises. In the late 1940s and early 1950s, SAC was hardly able to meet the mission with which it had been charged. It was also an era that stressed—but did not break—LeMay’s concept of the purpose of the Air Force in general and SAC in particular.¹ Getting to know his command, LeMay was given other reasons to be fearful of what the future held. When LeMay took command from Gen. George Kenney in October 1948, SAC was not in a position to do much of anything; The downward spiral that had gripped SAC since its inception had never been arrested.² Kenney’s roughly two years leading SAC were uneventful. The impetus for LeMay’s selection as SAC’s new commander began in mid-1948 at a meeting of high-level service leaders, including Kenney, that was called by Secretary of Defense James Forrestal.³ After Kenney gave a substandard presentation to the attendees, Lauris Norstad, who directed Air Force operations, insisted that Vandenberg [Chief of Staff Hoyt Vandenberg] name a new SAC commander.⁴ Vandenberg asked Norstad for his recommendation for the position. Norstad responded with a question: ‘Who would you want in command of SAC if war broke out tomorrow?’ … The chief of staff quickly replied: ‘LeMay.’⁵ Late in August 1948 Vandenberg and Secretary of the Air Force Stuart Symington traveled to Europe and met with General LeMay.⁶ The visit took place during the aerial resupply of the besieged city of Berlin and amid the rapidly escalating tensions between the Americans and Soviets. Vandenberg and Symington found [LeMay’s] organization, USAFE [U.S. Air Forces in Europe], ready for the emergency facing them in Germany.⁷

In the eyes of senior Air Force leadership, LeMay was the perfect person for the job of building SAC. In the early years of the Cold War, the Air Force controlled the most realistic means of delivering the U.S. nuclear arsenal against Soviet targets. It needed a sharp commander to ensure its force was capable of carrying out that mission. During World War II in Europe and the Pacific, and then during the postwar period of growing international tensions, LeMay had shown a talent for achieving rapid results. He would need to do the same at SAC.

Getting to Know SAC

LeMay arrived on October 19 and wasted little time in assessing his new command to determine what changes needed to be made.⁸ Not all of the changes were directly related to combat capability. In late 1948 LeMay made an inspection tour of various SAC bases, including living conditions on them. This initiative was an early indication of his style of leadership at SAC and his enduring interest in the welfare of the people serving under him. The records from such visits are rich with the details of LeMay’s concerns and specific curiosities. They also provide some insight into life in SAC in the late 1940s, and they offer a touchstone against which the changes initiated by LeMay during his command were measured.

On December 10, 1948, LeMay made a stop at Topeka Air Force Base in Kansas. He appeared just as interested in the living conditions for those stationed there as he was in the base’s combat readiness. In the notes from his trip, LeMay commented on several issues, chief among them being concerns about quality of life issues. LeMay noted that in the base mess hall, arrangement is poor. Drainage and new food are too close together. Should be separated. Mess Hall needs improving. With regard to the status of housing, the base commander reported to LeMay that a project was begun last September. I tried to contact civilian contractors, sign about 250 men to buy homes, work on houses after duty. It would cost about $100 down payment plus labor. Rental about $45 a month. 2 or 3 bedrooms. I tried to contact Air Installations Officer and get his assistance. Air Installations and FHA [Federal Housing Administration] cannot get together.⁹ Nonetheless, LeMay’s airmen needed places to live.

Three days later, LeMay visited Kearney Air Force Base in Nebraska and repeated his query as to progress on housing: When are they going to start and finish? The