В  рамках  НИОКР  по  созданию  лазерного оружия американская компания «Нортроп-Грумман»  провела  на  ракетном  полигоне Уайт-Сэндз  (штат  Нью-Мексико)  испытание лазерной  системы  (химический  лазер), предназначенной для защиты от ракет и минометных мин. Ее основное отличие состоит в  том,  что  предложена  новая  компоновка оборудования, которое монтируется в стандартных  транспортных  контейнерах  (ISO), обеспечивающих  определенные  преимущества.  Одним  из  недостатков  химических лазеров,  как  отмечают  западные  специалисты, является то, что они используют такое количество химических соединений, что для их  подвоза  требуется  несколько  грузовиков.  Поэтому  корпорация  «Нортроп-Грумман»  совместно  с фирмой UD работает над созданием мобильной системы на основе полупроводникового лазера, не имеющего такого недостатка.
На снимке показан макет одного из вариантов твердотельного лазерного тактического оружия, названного TALON(Tactical Laser Operational Needs). Вооружение планируется включить в состав боевой системы будущего – FCS-W (Future Combat System-Wheeled), которая должна монтироваться на колесном шасси.

В США активно проводятся НИОКР по созданию лазерного оружия различного назначения. Как ранее сообщали некоторые западные СМИ, уже прошел полевые испытания первый прототип  лазера, получивший  обозначение THEL (Tactical High Energy Laser) и предназначенный для борьбы с низколетящими воздушными целями, в том числе крылатыми ракетами. В настоящее время специалисты компании «Нортроп-Грумман» приступили к разработке высокоэнергетического твердотельного лазера, который планируется установить на боевую бронированную машину, создаваемую в рамках национальной программы «Боевая техника будущего». Программа создания его опытного испытательного образца энергетической мощностью 100 кВт рассчитана на три года, а стоимость работ в соответствии с подписанным контрактом составляет 85 млн долларов США. По мнению разработчиков, такие лазеры можно будет использовать в перспективных системах ПВО и ПРО в качестве их боевого элемента, а также для уничтожения оперативно-тактических и крылатых ракет, артиллерийских снарядов с увеличенной дальностью стрельбы и некоторых типов БЛА.

GLAADS USA—Early in 1976 trials started with a GLAADS at Fort Bliss, Texas. This consists of a XM701 MICV chassis with a new turret armed with tw'in 25mm guns. The system was developed under the direction of the United States Army Armament Command and the Rodman Laboratory at Rock Island, and Frankford Arsenal. Design work was carried out by Aeronutronic-Ford Corporation at Newport Beach. The twin 25mm guns are fed from two feed chutes (i.e. two per gun). The advanced fire control system includes a fully integrated and stabilized optical, infrared and laser sensors. The sensors feed data to a computer developed by Rockwell (Autonetics), and this computers the necessary lead and elevation angles.

[










или там все в одном альбоме https://imgur.com/a/uPffy

==13======
The $13 Billion Dud
by William Boly
California Magazine
February, 1983

One sun-filled afternoon last fall, I saw a Bradley Fighting Vehicle in action for the first time, my reward for skulking around the edges of FMC Corporation's sprawling 120-acre industrial complex on Coleman Avenue beside the San Jose Municipal Airport. Sporting an Afrika Korps-style paint job in tones of olive drab and tan, its turret bristling with the latest implements of destruction, the tanklike apparition came clattering out of the final assembly plant onto West Brokaw Road, intantly boxing in my Fiat 128 with its 25-ton bulk. FMC has a reputation for taking plant security seriously — uniformed guards patrol the various gates, and remote-control cameras scan its yards constantly — but this seemed like what the army calls an "overmatch". To my relief, the driver wheeled to the left and disappeared in the direction of the FMC test track. Appearances to the contrary, the Bradley is not a tank, but rather the latest and most rococo version yet devised of that once humble battlefield performer, the troop carrier. It is named after General Omar Bradley, commander of the European theater during World War II. Bradley was known as the "soldier's general" because of his concern for the welfare of his troops. This is a trait that the weapon named after him does not share. To the contrary, in combat the Bradley Fighting Vehicle will be a rolling death trap for the squad it carries. The vehicle's armor is made of aluminum, a metal whose chemical energy when oxidized is ten times greater than that of TNT. When hit by the right type of grenade, mortar
==14======
mine, or rocket, this aluminum can be counted on to kill the American soldiers whose lives it is supposed to protect. Both FMC and the army have conducted classified tests that show the murderous, explosion-amplifying effects of aluminum armor. And yet production of the Bradley continues.
The full story of the Bradley Fighting Vehicle's development is one of venality and bureaucratic inertia triumphing over common sense. In a time of unprecedented peacetime increases in weapons procurements, it is a cautionary tale about how the government provides for the common defense. The army expects to spend $13.4 billion over the next several years to acquire 6,882 of these machines. According to one munitions expert, each one could be knocked out with an M-42 grenade— price $2. There will always be arguments about how much to spend on defense. One thesis most everyone can agree on, however, is that those systems we do buy ought to work.
If you have never heard of the Bradley Fighting Vehicle before, you're in good company. At last year's appropriations hearing in the House Armed Services Committee, with $800 million in 1983 Bradley funds at stake, a subcommittee chairman interrupted the Pentagon briefing to demand a photograph. "Why don't you show us the vehicle here, General?" Congressman Samuel Stratton (Democrat, New York) asked "I would like to see what the thing looks like. What is it supposed to do? We don't just automatically rubber-stamp this stuff." But Congress went on to approve the purchase of 600 Bradleys this year, bringing the total ordered so far to 1,700. Next month the fighting vehicle is scheduled to begin its first tour of duty at Fort Hood in Texas, and by next September, to join the Seventh Army Training Center in Vilseck, West Germany. The Bradley is a perfect example of the dominant trend in defense spending — the tendency for simple, relatively cheap weaons systems to be replaced by exponentially more complex and expensive ones. The Bradley is destined to succeed the M-113 armored personnel carrier (APC), which is also built by FMC. The M-113 was a workhorse in the Vietnam War, noted for its mechanical reliability and (briefly, at least) for the fact that Prime Minister Ngo Dinh Diem was assassinated in the back of one. It looks like a metal box on tracks, carries eleven infantrymen, and has a machine gun mounted on top.
In its heyday, it cost around $80,000. (Since 1979, the price of an M-113 has gone to $179,000.) In 1970 the army rejected an early version of the Bradley, generically known as the infantry fighting vehicle (IFV), because it was not “austere” enough and because the price tag of $151,000 seemed too high. But with the end of the Vietnam War, the army got over its austerity bugaboo and in 1977 declared itself well pleased with an even fancier prototype projected to cost $338,000 per vehicle. That was a lot to pay for a troop carrier, but 14 army Lieutenant General Howard Cooksey assured a worried congres-
==15======
sional committee that the cost figure was firm. By 1982 the actual program cost per vehicle had turned out somewhat higher — $1,94 million a copy. Massive cost overruns such as that attract attention. The Military Reform Caucus in Congress had the Bradley on its hit list for this fiscal year. The Congressional Budget Office also proposed a cutback on the Bradley buy. When budget director David Stockman was still fighting Defense Secretary Caspar Weinberger's plan for across-the-board increases in 500 defense programs, he submitted a "slow growth" (7 percent per year in real terms) defense budget alternative for President Reagan's perusal. Stockman's secret proposal deleted only two major weapons systems. The Bradley was one of them. Luckily for FMC, Stockman's advice was ignored. Mainly on the strength of the Bradley, the company's San Jose division has quietly become one of the largest defense contractors in California, bigger in 1981 federal dollars than such notables as McDonnell Douglas, Litton Industries, Ford Aerospace and Communications, TRW, or Northrop. FMC has invested about $50 million in tooling up for Bradley production and employs about 5,500 workers to build it and an updated M-113 in San Jose. Every afternoon when the shift changes, Coleman Avenue becomes a monstrous tangle of cars waiting to be metered out onto the freeway. Having staked the future of its San Jose plant on a single weapons system, FMC is anxious to avoid controversy. A mid-September letter to the company's local director of communications, Paul Bush, explained this magazine's interest in the Bradley and requested a background interview. "Due to travel unavailability of key management people" a definitive answer was not forthcoming.
Phone calls during the next two months established further that, because of the pressing workload at the plant, no one at FMC could be sprung loose to talk about cost programs of the Bradley Fighting Vehicle. "We're not trying to give you the runaround," Bush said in a phone conversation. "And I know that's probably what it looks like to you." In lieu of an interview, FMC forwarded a copy  of a narrated promo movie of the Bradley in action. The fifteen-minute videotape is titled Second to None! It shows the Bradley leaping ditches, climbing 60 percent grades, and barreling across the country to the upbeat strains of what sounds like Jethro Tull as arranged by John Philip Sousa. The Bradley's "awesome" 25-mm cannon blasts targets while on the move; its TOW (tube-launched, optically tracked, wire-guided) missile unerringly incinerates tanks at a range of two miles. Inside the turret, the gunner manipulates his "push-button controls" while the commander spots enemy positions using the integrated sight unit. This system, the narrator says, provides a "TV-quality image", day or night, through smoke, light fog, or brushy camouflage. There is also a sequence showing squad
==16======
members riding in the rear, firing their automatic rifles while peering through their custom-tailored viewing ports. They look like cowboys defending the fort, only the fort is moving through the Indians. The film's overall effect is to inspire a sense of well-being bordering on the invincible.
Unfortunately, the literature on the Bradley — notably the transcript of the fiscal year 1978 IFV hearings before the Senate Armed Services Committee — tends to dispel this Panglossian mood. There is the "too tall" problem. The army is abandoning production of the M-60 tank in favor of the low-riding M-1 supposedly because its height made it too easy to spot on the battlefield. But the Bradley, at ten feet, is just as tall as the"unacceptably" high M-60. "If it gets blown up because of sticking up there where everybody can see it, it doesn't make any difference how sophisticated its gun is, or anything else," argued Senator Sam Nunn (Democrat, Georgia). There is the "too fat" problem. In order to fit aboard a C-141 Starlifter, the mainstay of the military transport fleet, the Bradley's side armor must be unbolted and the vehicle chained down on its springs to make it shorter. Once that's done, it won't roll, so it has to be winched on board. The whole process takes more than an hour at either end — not a virtue in wartime. There is even a "too small" problem. All those high-priced weapons take up a lot of space. Aside from the commander, gunner, and driver who stay with the vehicle, there is only enough room for six soldiers — half a squad. It is the infantry fighting vehicle minus the infantry. At the senate hearings, the army shrugged off these complaints. The point, asserted General William DePuy, then commander of the army's Training and Doctrine Command, was that the army had a "very poor vehicle" as things stood. The M-113 was a mere battlefield taxi, capable of ferrying troops close to the fight but not much else. What the army needed was a real fighting vehicle, so that the infantry could keep pace with and cover for tanks. It was a question of tactics on the "modern, mechanized battlefield." Russia, Germany, the Netherlands, France, Yugoslavia — all had IFVs. "Almost every army you look at is ahead of us as far as taking care of our infantry," DePuy told the panel of senators. "I think that is a crime."
The truth was even worse than DePuy could manfully admit in open session: the Russians invented the IFV. They had unveiled their brainchild at a Red Square military parade in November of 1967. It had everything — room for a full squad, firing ports, an antitank missile, light armor-piercing cannon, night sight, and low, sleek lines. They called it bronevaya mashina pehotnaya— BMP for short. That's Russian for "infantry fighting vehicle."
Our army, its budget tied up in Vietnam, could only watch in envy and dismay as the Soviets stamped out thousands of BMPs. In 1980, when Congress faced the production go-ahead decision on the Bradley, Forbes
==17======
ran a piece on the "IFV gap," bitterly complaining about Soviet BMPs "racing down the highways of Afghanistan" while our version languished on the drawing boards. Shades of Neville Chamberlain's umbrella. Were we, or were we not, a superpower? The FMC promo movie provides the answer: with the Bradley, we can once again think of ourselves as second to none. Just past the guardhouse, as you approach the Aberdeen Proving Grounds northeast of Baltimore, a fascinating display appears along the roadway's center divider. One by one, an elephant's boneyard of armored vehicles from two world wars rolls by: vintage halftracks, howitzers, and field artillery. There are tanks of every nationality and design: British Mark IVs, German Tigers, Russian T-30s, American Shermans. The ghostly column stretches out for more than a mile, mute testimony to mankind's diligence in the art of making war. For the last six months on its thousands of acres of lowland meadows and forests beside Chesapeake Bay, the army has been testing the Bradley Fighting Vehicle. FMC has its own testing grounds in California, of course, but since the company had placed my request to see the real thing on indefinite hold, I had prevailed upon the army for an up-close look. Major Wayne Heringer, my host for a tour "behind the fence" at Aberdeen, had already explained the program. Several Bradleys hot off the assembly line are being driven cross-country 6,000 miles on the grounds and their weapons periodically fired to make sure they perform according to contract specifications. This morning, the test engineers are preparing Bradley Fighting Vehicle 027 for a trial of its most complex and lethal weapon, the tank-killing TOW precision guided missile. From atop a reinforced concrete blockhouse, Heringer squints into the morning sunlight and surveys the firing range. "That's our target," he says, pointing down an aisle of brilliant viny maple and birch to a shimmering patch of white, almost two miles distant. As he gestures, a deer picks its way across the prospective line of fire, ears alert, before slipping into the woods. If all goes according to plan, the TOW will pop out of its twin-pack tube alongside the turret and sprout fins. Trailing wires that allow the gunner to guide it from inside, it will cruise off on a ground-hugging course that should put it through the bull's-eye twenty seconds later. The system's creator, Hughes Aircraft of El Segundo, advertises that the TOW accomplishes its mission more than 93 percent of the time. The Bradley also has an expensive built-in electronic test circuit to warn of any latent bugs. Still, Heringer is plainly a little on edge about the outcome. "Let's get it right," he shouts over to the technicians. "We got the press here today, gentlemen." A siren sounds and an oddly soft-spoken voice comes on over the loudspeaker, notifying all personnel to take cover. As the countdown begins, Heringer claps his hands over his ears and warns me to watch out
==18-20======
for gravel from the back blast.
"Five, four, three," the voice intones, "two, one," followed by ... nothing at all. Hands lower warily. Birds chirp. "Man, that sumbitch if faaast," somebody cracks, breaking the tension. Word filters back that we will try it again. "Five, four, three, two, one," the voice repeats, and this time a terrific boom punctuates the count, followed by a lesser explosion. Some 300 yards down the course, 1.8 miles short of the target, black smoke billows skyward. "Looks like we dug a hole," says the chagrined major. Two Hughes engineers begin checking the strip chart, a paper record of the system's vital signs. The TOW flubbed its signal plainly enough. But why? In the afternoon we visit the trench warfare range to watch the 25-mm chain gun in action. The cannon flawlessly reels off its full load of 300 rounds, each the size of a fat Havana cigar. After the exercise the guts of the cannon are removed, and Heringer takes advantage of the opportunity to show off its workings. "Fantastic," he whistles, in honest admiration. "We've traditionally been on our ass in this country on this type of thing, compared to the Belgians and Germans and Israelis. This shows what an American company can do." The mechanism is then placed in the back of a pickup truck to be returned to the Aberdeen arms room for safekeeping. Apparently, the Bradley is putting in all those miles with its chain gun locked up in storage. "Is that a good test of the gun's reliability in combat conditions?" I ask. "No, it's not," says test director Jeff Pierson. "Our security people are a little stringent." "This stuff is just too pilferable," adds Heringer. "You lose that, it's a career ruiner." Next up is the 7.62-mm machine gun. "I wouldn't want to be downrange with that little hummer shootin'," Heringer says. The idea is to reel off about 2,400 rounds. However, the ammunition doesn't feed properly. The gun is barking in bursts of five, then seven, then two, with long pauses in between. Finally, the ammo "hangs up" completely. "Ah, shit," says Heringer. "Let's go see the maintenance shops." The next morning we drive out to the Ferryman test area with Buck Kelly, a turret test engineer, to take a ride in a Bradley. Kelly was born and raised in Aberdeen, and his father worked on the base before him. As we move along, he points out some of the landmarks — where the train full of munitions blew up during World War II, for instance. The site is marked with NO HUNTING signs. "You could never clean it all up," Kelly says. Aboard the Bradley everyone wears a helmet, both for protection and to communicate over the internal headsets. My speaker is out of order, but I am mainly listening, anyway. As we get under way, with Kelly in the commander's seat and me in the gunner's, the dominant sensation is that of traveling blind. The armor provides protection at the expense of your field of view. The integrated sight unit, a telescopic affair with a padded forehead-rest to steady yourself against, gives a fine rifle's-eye view but no panorama. As with all armored vehicles, when the Bradley's hatch is down, locating targets will not be easy.
We switch on the infrared night-sight unit and attempt to track a two-and-a-half-ton truck. The system has a glitch, however — three red static bars run across the lower part of the image, blocking it out. Kelly puts the turret into its "stabilized" mode. As the Bradley swivels around corners beneath us, we stay trained in the same direction like the needle on a compass. This provides a mild vertiginous thrill. According to the army, it also enables the gunner to shoot accurately on the move. Once he has found his target, of course.
Army spokesmen admit that the rifle-firing ports in back have more psychological than combat value, and a short ride in the rear compartment demonstrates why. Over cross-country terrain, the periscope viewing ports pitch from sky to earth and back again. The soldiers are seated at right angles to their rifles, which are mounted a couple of feet below the ports. Very much of this treatment, I suspect, and the average sharpshooter will be concentrating on keeping his breakfast down.
The real fun aboard the Bradley is in the driving. The Perryman course is sculpted like a mogul field at Tahoe, but the Bradley's 500 horses push it through the wallows and over hillocks with pace to spare. Remember Elvis Presley chasing rabbits with his tank in West Germany? Now I understand the temptation. When you're in a tank, who is going to stop you? Overall, Aberdeen left me with the impression that, so far, the Bradley can deliver on most of its promises only part of the time. Buck Kelly put it this way: "This program is a little bit rushed. The government wants it yesterday, and they are getting it with some bugs still in it." With a machine this intricate, there is an awful lot that can go wrong. But even if the Bradley were to perform as designed, questions about its military value would remain.

They call themselves "cheap hawks." They are a loose-knit network of combat tacticians and military thinkers mainly based in the nation's capital, iconoclasts in the temple of the military-industrial complex. Some work above ground; others, often with excellent lines into the Pentagon, act as moles, leaking key bits of information to marshal public opinion. They have in common a skepticism of a weapons procurement process skewed toward gee-whiz gimcrackery at the expense of simple, workable systems. Unwise defense spending, they say, is actually weakening our military preparedness. Their world view was decisively promulgated in James Fallow's widely read treatise, National Defense (Random House, 1981). Paul Hoven, a self-described cheap hawk of the broad daylight variety and a partner in Summit Simulations, Inc., a military consulting firm based in Minnesota, is a coauthor of the most extensive critique extant of the Bradley Fighting Vehicle. A helicopter pilot in Vietnam, Hoven came by his suspicion of high-tech warfare the hard way. He remembers going on "sniffer patrol" in Vietnam — flying low-level nighttime missions, following a grid pattern with a machine designed to detect the presence of urea. "Lots of signals, and you put the infantry in on them," he recalls. "That lasted about a month, until Charlie figured out all he had to do was pee in a can and leave it lying around. We kept inserting on the cans." Summit Simulations' 92-page study traces the history of armored troop transports, and its conclusions don't flatter the Bradley. "What they've done is design a fighter, bomber, cargo plane," Hoven says. "It's called an infantry fighting vehicle, except it carries only half a squad. Take a light tank, which is what this thing really is, fill it with soldiers and put it on the offensive the way the army is talking, and all I see is a lot of dead people." Hoven considers the concept of an IFV basically misguided. If the army insists on the idea, however, his report recommends the Armored Infantry Fighting Vehicle (AIFV), a souped-up version of the old M-113. The Dutch and Belgian armies have bought more than 1,000 of them from FMC. "There's no such thing as a wunderweapon in conventional war," Hoven says. "If you run out of tanks, or infantry, or artillery, you lose. The key thing is you can buy four AIFVs for the price of one Bradley."
"That's an idea whose time for raising has come and gone," rebuts Justice White ("Jud" to his friends), staff member of the House Armed Services Cimmittee. White pads cheerfully about his roomy Rayburn building office in fire-engine red slippers, his vest opened a comfortable apres-lunch notch or two. "We've got the Bradley in production," he says. "Now's not the time to inject risk into the program." Jud White is an ardent supporter of the Bradley and a battle-wise bureaucrat grown impatient with cheap-hawk complaints. "That bunch of troglodytes," he scoffs. "The field marshal-types over on the Senate side? Well, they didn't know how to fight, did they? We just lined up and got the votes and shot it through." White is referring to the Bradley's political moment of truth in 1978, when negative reports from both the General Accounting Office and Office of Management and Budget led President Carter to "zero it out"of the 1979 budget. "Basically, we saved it in the House," White recalls. The trick was a time-honored Washington gambit: slip in enough money to keep it alive for the fiscal year, then hope for a brighter day. The Ayatollah Khomeini and President Reagan took care of the rest. White blames the recurrent criticism of the Bradley on the "old wounded-duck syndrome" — the tendency to go after a program that has been criticized in the past. "You don't see any of these dilettantes taking on the Navy," he says, warming to the argument. "They spend more on spare parts for their jets than this whole program costs. The army lost a decade to Vietnam. They're facing wholesale obsolescence of their 20 equipment. You think the Bradley cost overrun is bad?" he says, taking
==21======
out a sheet of the latest Department of Defense procurement estimates. "Look at this!" It shows figures for the Navy's F-14 and F-18 fighter jets and for the Trident submarine, each tens of billions of dollars over their original estimates. "Let's face it," White says, "If there's a war with the Soviet Union, the Navy's gonna play a secondary role. I mean, the Sovs are an Asian land power. The war's gonna be fought on land. And we're the only major army in the world that doesn't have an infantry fighting vehicle. Russia, Germany, France, Poland, you name it."
"Israel?"
"Except Israel."
Our session has run a bit long, and the next visitor is waiting at the door as we part. "Well," says White, "here's a man you oughta meet," and makes a quick introduction. It's John Mullett, FMC's top military affairs lobbyist. Over the phone, Mullett has already declined to be interviewed on the subject of the Bradley's political history. He seems taken aback at this chance encounter but recovers with the natural elasticity of a salesman. “I've spoken with our people in San Jose," he says. “I’m sure they can answer all your questions. Bill."
As Jud White grudgingly admitted, the Israeli Defense Force, the leading exponent of maneuver warfare in the world, does not field an infantry fighting vehicle. Israel's opponents in the 1973 Yom Kippur War, Egypt and Syria, had the Russian BMP at their disposal. Since the BMP set off the worldwide IFV fad, the question arises: How did the BMP perform in battle? "Basically, it was a disaster," says Paul Hoven. "In the Golan, the Syrians tried to maneuver them. If you look at battlefield pictures, you see a whole bunch of BMPs with their turrets blown off." Hoven may sound like a biased source, but his study reflects the findings of the Russians themselves. Following the Yom Kippur War, the Soviets convened a military science conference at the Malinovsky Tank Academy in November of 1974, and another in January of 1975, to discuss the BMP problem. Subsequently, according to an article by Phillip Karber in a defense journal, more than 50 analytic articles have appeared in Soviet military journals expressing a consensus that the BMP was the weakest link in its armed forces. Several writers proposed simply abandoning it in favor of having troops ride into battle on the backs of tank, as they had in World War II. The problem with the BMP was straightforward: it was vulnerable to practically everything on the battlefield. By comparison, a dug-in squadron of foot soldiers presents a formidable military threat. They are difficult to spot and, particularly with the new generation of hand-held antitank rockets, have the firepower to knock out heavy armor. Put the same soldiers inside a fighting vehicle, though, and they become a much more prominent target and a lot easier to destroy. Apparently, the Israelis appreciate this fact. Following the recent
==22======
Israeli victory in Lebanon, Paul Hoven called to alert me to an interview of General Israel Tal in the International Defense Review, a Swiss military trade journal. When the interview came around to armored personnel carriers, Tal, who directed Israel's devastating armored attack in the 1967 Six-Day War, unleashed quote a salvo. The popular trend toward the infantry fighting vehicle begun by the Russian BMP was "based on a complete fallacy," Tal said. The job of the APC was to "carry the infantry to the start line for their dismounted assault," not function as a rolling fort. As a species, fighting vehicles were little more than "second-rate tanks," he declared. "The best APC in the world is the worst tank, just as the best tank in the world is the worst APC." Tal called the attempt to hybridize the two "a great mistake." "Don't listen to me," Hoven said after quoting these excerpts. "This guy's only won four wars, you know." Obviously, the relative vulnerability of the Bradley's armor will help determine its battlefield effectiveness. Are we building another BMP? On this score, a cheap hawk of the sub rosa school furnished some distressing information.

Once you sign in the logbook and insert a magnetically coded security card in the proper slot, the door to the inner precincts swings open. A ritual of our times is about to unfold: the "on background" interview. The phrase has a particular meaning in the news business. The speaker may be quoted but not identified except in a general way. No telling physical or biographical details may be divulged. So, for protocol's sake, we are in the offices of a nationally prominent defense think tank in Washington, D.C.; the speaker is an engineer whose experience inside the Pentagon spans two decades and includes a study of the M-113. In measured tones, he outlines his argument. Since the 1960s, he says, FMC has manufactured all of America's track-mounted troop carriers — the M-113, the Marine Corps' amphibious landing vehicles, and now the Bradley. Among the troop carriers of the world, ours are virtually the only ones made out of aluminum. But, my informant asserts, aluminum armor when hit will help kill the soldiers it is supposed to protect. "In Vietnam, the Yom Kippur War, and Lebanon, commanders have been absolutely unable to make their troops ride inside M-113s," he says. "You see them in photos — always on the roof or, at most, standing in a hatch. These soldiers are trying to tell us something." Namely, that inside is not a healthy place to be. There is the danger from mines (hitting your head on the roof can be fatal), but with aluminum there is the added danger from the "shaped charge," or high explosive antitank (HEAT) round, carried by the modern foot soldier. As the defense analyst explains it, the problem is that aluminum is a reactive metal. In powdered form, it is used in rocket fuel. When a HEAT round such as the Russian-made RPG-7 hits armor, it works like a blowtorch, its superheated gases boring a hole through the metal. With
==23======
steel, which is basically inert, those few ounces of material become "spall"— fragments that injure or kill in a well-defined cone of destruction on the other side of the wall. With aluminum, the displaced metal forms spall at the edges but vaporizes in the center. This vapor literally becomes chemical fuel for the explosion, intensifying the deadly effects of the blast.
"The British have conducted the best study of the action of a HEAT round on steel and aluminum armor," he says, brandishing a copy. "This work was done at the Chemical Defense Establishment Laboratory in Porton Downs. You're welcome to have a copy. "The study, published in 1980, claims that, beyond the spall danger presented by all metals, aluminum armor helps kill soldiers three ways. First, blast overpressure from an antitank-size round is twice as high behind aluminum as it is behind steel, reaching levels that would be expected to kill a man by rupturing his lungs. Second, a fireball develops with an associated blinding flux of light (the equivalent of several hundred flashbulbs), causing localized third-degree burns. Third, the extreme temperatures and pressures inside the chamber produce concentrations of oxides of nitrogen thousands of times higher than those encountered during a Los Angeles smog alert. "The Israelis keep very good track of their casualties," the analyst continues. "In the Yom Kippur War, they deployed troops mainly in steel-armored half-tracks, but they also had 500 [aluminum] M-113s. When you look at the casualty figures, you find that an Israeli infantryman in that war had a fourfold higher chance of being wounded or killed in action in his M-113 than in the old half-tracks. "Our army and FMC both know they have a problem with aluminum. They've known that at least since Vietnam. FMC has done shaped-charge testing against the M-113 in California. I've read the reports. They were trying to find a liner that would suppress the vaporific effects, and they did — they found a perfectly practical one made of Kevlar [a synthetic fiber manufactured by DuPont]. But the army doesn't want to ask for money to fix up the M-113 because they're afraid that might draw attention to the aluminum problem. They're afraid Congress will start asking. What about the Bradley? "Here's where it gets very interesting. The Bradley has thicker armor than the M-113, probably about twice as thick. But that just makes HEAT that much more lethal to the soldiers inside it. This is important. If you're going through twice the depth with a HEAT round, you're going to vaporize more aluminum. You're adding fuel to the blast. The army doesn't want to admit that, so they've contrived not to find it out. They've tested the Bradley armor against machine guns, mines, and artillery, but they will not fire a shaped charge into it. I think they've decided that's too fraught with danger to the whole program." The HEAT round is ubiquitous on the modern battlefield. Literally millions of antitank rockets have been manufactured and are out there. We know from the Middle East wars what this has
==24======
done for the infantry. Half the Israeli tanks lost on the Golan Heights in 1973 were knocked out by infantry carrying hand-held RPG-7s. For the army to ignore this threat in the Bradley's armor design is totally asinine and totally irresponsible."
The Pentagon consultant escorts me back out through the security maze to the elevator. Just before the doors close between us, he gives one last piece of advice. "Remember, they're perfectly capable of lying to you," he says. "Don't listen to the bar talk. Ask them to show you their evidence."
Officially, the army claims that the vehicle's armor "can defeat 91 percent of all weapons likely to be encountered in battle." At the army's Tank Automotive Command (TACOM) in Detroit, spokesman Captain Joe Yakovac was unable to locate a study supporting this claim. Deputy project manager Charles Salter denied that Bradley politics had aborted the decision to put Kevlar into the M-113. "That's just not true," he said. "If the army saw the need for it, they would put it in." However, Walt Storrs, mechanical engineer at TACOM with primary responsibility for the Bradley armor, did confirm the main assertion of of my Pentagon source: the army has not tested the Bradley armor against the HEAT round, nor does it have any immediate plans to do so. "Are we curious? Yes, we're curious," Storrs says. "But it costs money to satisfy your curiosity, and we just haven't got it to spend." The aluminum issue surfaced in the press briefly a year ago. Although he was not aware of the British evidence, Paul Hoven mentioned the generic problem in his Bradley study, and a military procurement journal, Defense Week, picked it up from there and ran a brief item. The Pentagon issued a rebuttal, calling the vaporific effect "secondary" to spall as a cause of crew casualties. Like every army position, this one has a paper trail, which, if you follow it long enough, ends up at the desk of Dr. Joseph Prifti, of the army's Materials and Mechanics Research Center in Watertown, Massachusetts. Since 1975, Prifti has served as the principal investigator in research efforts aimed at dampening the vaporific effect in the M-113. Reached by phone, Prifti is extremely reluctant to answer questions. "I might get in trouble," he says. "People in the research and development community are going to wonder. Why did you, Joe Prifti, talk to this guy?" When he eventually submits to an interview, several interesting facts about his research emerge. His work had very little to do with quantifying the vaporific effect. "It may sound as though our study was flimsy," Prifti says, "but it wasn't. We weren't trying to document things like the British were. We were materials oriented to suppress spall." Consequently, his group did not monitor at all for the nitrogen dioxide poisoning effect. To record the fireball effect, mercury-cadmium cells were installed to measure luminosity,
==25==
"somehow there was a screw-up" and the cells did not function correctly. "We threw up our hands," says Prifti. As for overpressure, measurements were obtained, but they were less than half those shown by the British tests. In a universe of constant physical laws, how could that be? The answer is simple, and revelatory of the army's penchant for tinkering with adverse results. In measuring overpressure, Prifti and associates simply threw out the instantaneous peak that occurs within the first few thousandths of a second after the explosion, and instead recorded the much lower "duration pulse" that follows. "The instantaneous peak is very difficult to measure," Prifti explains. "And it's not meaningful, anyway. According to the experts in the field, the body doesn't even feel it. It happens to fast."
Not quite all the experts. Our own Navy has conducted extensive tests of overpressure effects on animals at the China Lake Naval Weapons Center in California. The Navy concluded that the only significant blast effect comes in the first two milliseconds — the instantaneous peak. It's a highly technical point, except for those who will be called upon to serve in the Bradley. In describing blast effects as "secondary," Prifti's group used an overpressure value — 30 pounds per square inch — that might rupture the lungs, but the actual overpressure that would be encountered — 78 psi — is enough to kill outright. The main point remains — the army has no data on how the Bradley armor will stand up against the weapon most likely to be used against it. In a $13.4 billion program, common sense suggests that money could be found for the purpose, if that were what the Pentagon wanted. But in the army's official argot, HEAT rounds are considered "overmatching" against the Bradley and so, under the "user specifications" handed down by Training and Doctrine Command, the Bradley armor is not required to stand up to them. The reason, Walt Storrs says, is that "the army doesn't expect to encounter HEAT where it's going to use the vehicle." Neverthless, the army and FMC tout the Bradley's "ability to move forward at speed under attack in the combat area" and its role "to support the main battle tank in ground-gaining offensive combat." Plainly, the army is trying to have it both ways. The RPG-7 is carried by every rifle squad in the Warsaw Pact armies, but the RPG-7 has been declared an "overmatch"; therefore, don't worry about the RPG-7. As a weapons material, aluminum is not completely a bust. Its proponents point out the good job it does stopping small-arms fire and shrapnel. Plus, because of its greater rigidity, aluminum does not require internal bracing the way a steel Bradley would, making it cheaper to build with. But the original decision to use aluminum for the M-113 — reached in the late 1950s — reflected as much as anything the fact that the nation's aluminum industry was in a terrible slump at the time. Subsequently, FMC gained an expertise with the stuff unmatched outside the airline industry. This helped the company solidify its position as the sole supplier of
==26==
armored personnel carriers to the United States Army. In the process FMC also became the biggest buyer of aluminum plate in the country. FMC has been aware of the vaporific problem associated with that material for a long time. Even before the Vietnam War, the explosion- amplifying effect of a shaped-charge grenade against the M-113's armor had been demonstrated to company officials. In Vietnam, the M-113 proved so vulnerable to homemade land mines that drivers resorted to lying on the top of the roof and manipulating the controls with sticks. About this time, FMC became interested in mines and conducted a series of tests to see what metal would make the most effective liner for a shaped charge. Of all materials tried — copper, steel, alloys of aluminum— the one that worked best was the particular aluminum alloy used in the construction of the M-113. Aluminum alloy 5083 produced the highest temperatures and pressures within the experimental chamber. Eventually, FMC dropped the idea of making land mines, but it is still using aluminum alloy 5083 — in the armor of the Bradley Fighting Vehicle. Charles Johnson, FMC vice president and manager of its defense equipment group, would neither confirm nor deny alloy 5083's explosive properties. He acknowledged that shaped-charge testing went on over the years, but disclaimed any special knowledge. "The army interprets the data," he says. "We were the contractor carrying the testing out." Johnson's defense of aluminum armor is this simple: "The army handed down the requirements [which did not include HEAT protection], and we certainly met them 100 percent.

Military historians observe that the dominant technology of the battlefield has changed several times in this century. The massed-cavalry charge gave way to the invention of the machine gun. The trench warfare stalemate brought about by the machine gun yielded to the tank. Most recently, the World War II tactic of rapid tank maneuver has been neutralized by the quantum leap in the potency of the HEAT round. Antitank missiles and rockets are not a cure-all, but, as evidenced in the Middle East, they have given the defense a decided advantage. It wasn't diplomatic pudeur that kept Ariel Sharon from pursuing Yasir Arafat into East Beirut last summer; it was the military facts of life. The Palestinian Liberation Organization had RPG-7s. Using them, the PLO turned back an Israeli tank assault at the so-called museum crossing on August 4. Armed with HEAT, the infantryman has become a match for the tank on the modern battlefield. The response of the U.S. military to this development — a heavy investment in a lightly armed fighting vehicle - seems downright perverse. The Bradley will not be the first blunder in the history of war preparations. Germany, England, and the United States had one thing in common at the start of World War II: all three navies had developed torpedoes that wouldn't explode when they hit enemy ships. Designing weapons without the imminent possibility of their use seems to be the
==27==
biological equivalent of a species evolving in the absence of natural predators: you end up with the dodo bird. Nearly 40 years without a major land war in Europe, and the United States places its infantry inside land transports armored with aluminum.
To be sure, our military persistently speaks and writes about the next war with the Soviets in the indicative mood. At Aberdeen, Major Heringer talked about such a showdown as "inevitable." But does the army really believe it? In practice, a good conventional war is hard to come by. In Europe both sides have deployed nuclear warheads down to the artillery level. Both sides say they will use them to stem a conventional reverse. "Why don't you ask me about the neutron bomb?" Joe Prifti asked, nettled at all the questions about shaped-charge rounds. "The Bradley armor doesn't work against the neutron bomb, either." The underlying fantasy in a discussion of the Bradley's merits is that victory in a full-scale conventional war in Europe is still possible. Having made that leap, ignoring the existence of the HEAT round is a relative breeze.
Maybe it is the original thesis — that the weapons we buy should work — that needs revision. At one time "battleship thinking" was military shorthand for failing to recognize gross obsolescence and vulnerability when you saw it. Today we are taking four battleships out of mothballs and refitting them at a cost of several hundred million dollars each. In Washington, the foreign policy talk for the last couple of years has been about showing the Soviet Union we have not lost our resolve. The measure of resolve is what percent of our gross national product we are willing to spend on defense. By that standard, even weapons that don't work make us stronger.

Embattled Weapon: A New Troop Carrier Is Remarkable — So Are Its History and Cost
by John J. Fialka
(John J. Fialka is assigned to special projects for the Wall Street Journal. Formerly, he was the Pentagon correspondent for the Washington Star. He won the Worth-Bingham award in 1979 and the Raymond Clapper Award in 1980 for investigative reporting on the Pentagon.)
The Wall Street Journal
February 17, 1982
CAMP ROBERTS, Calif.— A shepherd is slowly moving his flock down a rutted hillside when suddenly there is a great roar and a large tank-like vehicle jumps over the crest of the hill behind him. For a moment, all 25 tons of it are airborne. The technician driving it chooses that moment to send the vehicle's huge turret spinning crazily in a 360-degree arc. It is truly an improbable sight. But the shepherd does not turn around. He moves on with the air of a man who has seen many improbable things here. This is the main testing ground for the Army's new Bradley Fighting Vehicle, designed to carry infantrymen into combat, and visitors here regularly see it jump over hills. The BFV, as it is called, can move down the same rutted hillside and go pam-pam-pam-pam-pam, shooting on the move, pumping 200 rounds a minute from its 25-millimeter cannon into a target a mile away without missing once. And it can do that even at night. The Army is extremely proud of the BFV and the improbable things it can do; "an infantryman's dream," a spokesman calls it. But White House budget experts, the General Accounting Office and defense specialists on Capitol Hill worry about another improbable aspect of the BFV: It is emerging as the most expensive armored personnel carrier (APC) the world has ever seen. At the end of this decade, when the Army finishes buying 6,882 of them, the Bradleys will have cost $ 1,880,000 apiece, more than 12 times what earlier, far simpler plans assumed. By 1983, when the first BFV is scheduled to join U.S. forces in West Germany — the battlefield for which it was designed— it will have taken the Army 20 years to field a vehicle that was once supposed to be a relatively simple, "low-risk" weapons system ready for production in 1965. The vehicle now suffers an identity crisis. "The Army has tried to build a duck that squawks and a chicken that swims," remarks one frustrated critic. "Is this an APC or is it a tank?"

Flattening the Opposition
The story of the BFV — as pieced together from the Army, from the prime contractor and from its friends and enemies in Washington — is a crazy quilt of constant design changes, military doctrine changes, galloping price increases raising the total program cost to $13 billion, and
==29==
a steady bureaucratic momentum that has allowed the project to roll over its critics time and again, even though their ranks have included a President and powerful committees on Capitol Hill.
According to a recent report by the GAO, which has blazed away at the BFV for years without visible effect, the story of the BFV isn't unusual. There are 13 other weapons coming in the Army's $68 billion modernization program and they all share, to one degree or another, the problems of the BFV. From the outset, the vehicle was oversold and underpriced.
What the Army wanted initially was something quick, something that could be built from the parts of a self-propelled howitzer in production in 1963 when the Army began its search for a "mechanized infantry combat vehicle." The effort was dubbed MICV-65.
But by the time 1965 rolled around, the Army wasn't pleased. Three 52,000-pound prototypes had been built by Pacific Car & Foundry Co. (now called Paccar Inc.) in response to a request for an armored amphibious vehicle that would carry a 12-man squad into battle and could fire a cannon on the move.
The Army found the vehicles to be under-powered, too heavy and to stiffly sprung. It also found one of them winding up on the bottom of the Columbia River after a test failure. MICV-65 was abandoned.
The Vietnam war intervened, and sources of research and development money temporarily dried up. But by 1968 Army planners were at work on something smaller, something that would weigh 44,000 pounds, carry 10 men, swim and zip along the landscape at 45 miles an hour, fast enough to accompany the new tank that the Army was designing.
But Gen. Bruce Palmer Jr., the Army's vice chief of staff, scrapped that project. He called it too expensive (at $151,575 a copy), too heavy and "too sophisticated."
An Army panel then came up with a third vehicle that would be lighter and slower and would carry 12 men. It would cost about $270,000, though, and in 1970 the Army decided to look for something still cheaper, the "austere MICV."
The planners were feeling some pressure then because three years earlier the Soviet army had fielded an armored, cannon-packing, amphibious vehicle that could carry 11 men into combat and be dropped by parachute. So by late 1971, the Army began calling for developing to start "at the earliest possible date." Enter FMC Corp. During World War II, it had won an Army contract to produce a tracked amphibious vehicle called the Water Buffalo. The company built 11,000 of these vehicles, and they came rolling off the assembly lines within six months after the contract was signed. Later, FMC had designed and built the boxy M113, the predecessor of the MICV, a vehicle that Jane's Weapon Systems calls "one of the most successful vehicles ever in the U.S. Army service." In 1972, FMC sent the Pentagon a foot-high stack of documents and a
==30==
wooden mock-up of a vehicle with angled, laminated aluminum armor and a one-man gun turret. It would cost $272,000. The Army liked it, and FMC won a development contract calling for production to begin by September 1976.
FMC brought proven skills to the MICV project — in metal bending, welding and mechanical engineering. But Washington had changed. "What we're dealing with now is a multiheaded customer," one company official said. Several of the heads were in the Army. There was the Infantry Center at Fort Benning, Ga., which wanted something to haul infantrymen into battle in a way that would allow them to fight from the vehicle. There was the Armor Center at Fort Knox, Ky., which wanted a heavy vehicle that could kill tanks. Then there was the cavalry, which was developing a light, three-man armored scout vehicle — later abandoned in favor of a variant of the MICV.

Many Problems
When FMC began to deliver test vehicles to the Army, there were problems, a lot of them. To keep up with the new tank, the MICV would have to move faster than 30 miles per hour over uneven terrain without injuring its troops. According to FMC, the strain was such that the test rigs were continually throwing tracks and breaking their suspension systems. That wasn't the worst problem. The General Electric transmission developed for the MICV couldn't go more than 50 miles before breaking down. According to FMC, the transmission problem alone caused a two-year delay. By late 1975, Washington was clearly getting impatient. The National Security Council was toying with the idea of dropping the U.S. project and buying a $400,000 West German vehicle called the Marder. In the summer of 1976, as the testing continued to flounder along, the then-Secretary of the Army, Martin Hoffmann, stopped everything. Army officials had come to agree that the MICV, as it stood, would have to be better armed to survive on a modern battlefield.

Changes Advocated
In October of that year, a high-level Army study group reported there would have to be major changes: The MICV should be refitted with two wire-guided TOW antitank missiles and a night-vision system. It should have a stabilized 25-mm cannon and a two-man gun turret. These changes were so impressive that in 1977 the Army renamed the MICV the Infantry Fighting Vehicle. FMC was awarded a contract for the revised vehicle. It estimated then that while the MICV could have
==31==
been built for $305,000, the IFV could be had for $397,000.
But the Senate Armed Services Committee was becoming openly critical of the vehicle, and not just on grounds of cost. It invited a series of witnesses who said that the aluminum armor was too thin and that the IFV was too big — two feet taller than the M 1 tank and 2 1/2 feet taller than its Soviet counterpart.
"If it gets blown up because of sticking up there where everybody can see it, it doesn't make any difference how sophisticated its gun is, or anything else," argued the chief Senate critic Democrat Sam Nunn of Georgia.

Critical Report
The unrest on the Hill provoked the GAO in December 1977 to publish a report that called the vehicle too slow, too big, too complicated, too heavy and too costly. "While the M113 may be inadequate, the Infantry Fighting Vehicle, which is nearly four times as expensive, thus far has not shown to be much of an improvement," the report said. At about the same time, the Office of Management and Budget was raising another argument. The new two-man turret had taken up so much space on the IFV that its crew of infantrymen had to be cut from eleven men to nine. Moreover, now the driver, the gunner and the commander probably would have to stay with the vehicle on the battlefield, leaving it with a deployable infantry unit of only six men. The OMB concluded that the project should be dropped.
Just before Christmas in 1977, President Carter agreed. The Army was told that the IFV was a "dead issue."
But it wasn't. The following summer, softened by a barrage of lobbying by FMC and the Army and distracted by a debate over whether to buy another aircraft carrier, Congress slipped money for the IFV back into the defense authorization bill.

Climbing Price Tag
Meantime, though, the price tag kept climbing. In January 1979, FMC announced that the cost of the IFVs would be $495,000 apiece and not the previously stated $397,000. "We had never built an electrical turret before, and we grossly underestimated its cost," explained FMC's Rex Vaughan, deputy manager of the IFV project. The production numbers had to be rejuggled. Instead of buying a total of 9,261 IFVs, the Army decided on 6,882. Instead of getting 170 vehicles in the year ahead, the Army suddenly found that it had money for only 87. After frantic back-and-forth with the Defense Department, FMC's board of directors eased the problem by advancing $50 million in company money to buy modern machinery needed to produce IFVs in volume.
==32==
"It was a gutsy decision," says Mr. Vaughan, noting that neither the Army nor the Defense Department had yet given final approval for production. Final approval required more testing. And in November 1979, after running 1FV prototypes over the rugged terrain at Fort Carson, Colo., the Army's Operation Test and Evaluation Agency filed a decidedly mixed report. It said that the IFV's night sight had image "flutter," that the electrical system broke down, that the IFV didn't seem able to keep up with the new U.S. tank in battle and that the commander in the vehicle would have difficulty deploying the troops outside. Moreover, the agency noted, it takes 72 minutes to prepare an IFV for airlift on a C141 transport and another hour and 21 minutes to load it because it has to be partly disassembled, squashed down on its springs and winched aboard. Nevertheless, the Army approved full production in December 1979, and the Defense Department agreed the following February. In the summer of 1980, the cavalry proudly rolled out its version of the IFV for testing in front of Maj. Gen. Louis Wagner, other dignitaries and a local television crew at Fort Knox. It drove into the Ohio River and promptly sank. Something was wrong with a latch related to a rubberized nylon collar that should allow the vehicle to float. The embarrassment was nothing compared to the uproar the following December when it was reported that the total cost of the IFV program had risen from $7.4 billion to more than $13 billion in one year. This time it was the Defense Department that had underestimated. Unrealistically low inflation estimates were blamed for half the increase; the rest was laid to further engineering changes and the Army's desire for more ammunition, spare parts and exotic electronic equipment. The House Appropriations Committee is still spinning around about that. Last November, shortly after the Army changed the IFV's name to the Bradley Fighting Vehicle (after the late Gen. Omar Bradley), the committee ordered the Army to begin "side-by-side field tests" to see whether some other vehicle might take over the BFV's mission. The Senate Appropriations Committee has since watered that down, saying merely that the Army might consider such tests.

Another Broadside
In December, the OMB took another shot at the Bradley. It noted that for the price of one Bradley you could buy eight improved versions of the trusty M113. But such a substitution was rejected by the White House after the Army said it would protect the Bradley by taking budget cuts in other programs. FMC — which provides about 37% of the labor and hardware in the Bradley — has become extremely sensitive about the cost issue. Although
==33==
the simplest way to calculate each vehicle's cost is to divide the total number ordered by the program's total cost ($13 billion divided by 6,882 equals $ 1,880,000). FMC uses what the Pentagon calls "rollaway costs," which leave out the costs of development, extra parts and ammunition. By this measure, the Bradley costs either $1 million (in 1982 dollars), $1.2 million (in future "performing-year" dollars) or $880,000 (in constant 1980 dollars). Sometimes these figures are used interchangeably. A reporter who was briefed on the Bradley costs by a battery of FMC experts said he found them confusing. "Well goddammit, he ought to be confused," remarked C.H. Johnson, the head of FMC's Defense Equipment Group, "because we are."

Mechanized Infantry Combat Vehicle
Letter to General Bernard W. Rogers
Army Chief of Staff
25 March 1977

Last week I appeared before a subcommittee of the Senate Armed Services Committee, together with Ed Miller and Howard Cooksey. The issue quickly resolved into a discussion about the MICV.
We, of course, supported the MICV and may have done some good. If we did make any impression on Senator Nunn (who was absolutely dead set against the MICV at the outset), it was largely because Dr. Phil Karber of BDM swung over to our side.
Three civilian witnesses were called by the committee, no doubt at the instigation of staffer Record and Senator Hart's assistant, Mr. Lind of 100-5 fame. They were: Karber, Luttwak, and Canby.
Karber had lunch with me before the hearing and we were able to persuade him that, although the MICV isn’t perfect, it is the best infantry fighting vehicle at this time and that we couldn't, in good conscience, send American soldiers into war in the M113 in Europe. This sounds like taking the credit for Karber’s performance. In fact, he did a better job than we did in pointing out that the M113 is first generation, the BMP and the Marder are second generation, and the MICV is third generation, at least in temis of mobility and firepower. He testified to this effect.
Karber is a very good man, honest and smart. He is concerned about the disparity in protection between the XM1 and the MICV. So is Luttwak, so are the Germans as pertains to the Leopard and the Marder, and so are the Russians as pertains to the T72 and the BMP. So are we concerned.
Phil Karber had originally intended to recommend that we discontinue development of the MICV and turn the XM1 chassis into a MICV. When he found out this would take some time, he reluctantly agreed to support the MICV as the only realistic option open to us at this time. Luttwak testified against the MICV, as did Canby. Luttwak, like Karber, wants more protection. Canby is just plain vague and confused and confusing.
For over a year I have been thinking about the requirement for an Armored Infantry Fighting Vehicle which would have armor protection equal to the XM1. This thinking was prompted strongly by the Israeli solution to the vulnerability of armor by including a mechanized company organic to each tank battalion in wartime (in peacetime they can't afford the manpower). I have also been influenced by the fact that George Blanchard favors a composite battalion because he wants to train the way he plans to fight.
Because of the obvious impact on the MICV program and the nightmarish thought that we could find ourselves stuck with the M113 for another 10 years while we make yet another start on the MICV, I have kept these thoughts within TRADOC.
Day before yesterday I read in the International Defense Review that the British Army has resurrected its development program for a MICV, but this time plan to build it with Chobham armor. It seems to me that a combination of the Karber, Luttwak, Nunn, Hollingsworth, Bartlett concern, coupled with the British initiative on a heavily armored MICV, probably signifies the hopelessness of keeping this idea bottled up.
The more I think about this matter the more I believe that we must begin to move in the direction of a truly armored infantry fighting vehicle to be married organizationally with each tank battalion. These vehicles would no doubt be expensive—they certainly would be heavy— and probably be an overkill for the battalion formations of the mechanized infantry for which we would still need the MICV—we certainly don't want the M113.
Another thought which may help is that we are nearing the end of the MICV development—in fact, it would be essentially finished were it not for the revision of the turret and the Bushmaster development. As we look beyond the current set of new equipment which will be available by about 1985, there is very little on the drawing board. In other words, there will be a trough in the development program which we might just as well start to fill now.
The idea of an AIFV using special armor is being quietly examined at the Tank-Automotive Research and Development Command. However, the cat isn't too far out of the bag at this moment.
I suggest that you and Dutch and George Sammet and Shy Meyer and Howard Cooksey and I meet sometime in early April to discuss this issue and plot a course for the future. The sensitivity of it is obvious and the dangers to the MICV program are clear. Thus it would seem to warrant the best thinking of your top people involved in such matters.

Боевая машина пехоты
Письмо генералу Бернарду В. Роджерсу
Начальнику штаба Армии
25 марта 1977 г.

На прошлой неделе я предстал перед подкомитетом Комитета Сената по вооруженным силам вместе с Эдом Миллером и Говардом Кукси. Вопрос быстро перешел в дискуссию о БМП.
Мы, конечно, поддерживали Бредли и, возможно, неплохо поработали. Если мы и произвели какое-то впечатление на сенатора Нанна (который был абсолютно против Бредли с самого начала), то во многом лишь потому, что д-р Фил Карбер из БДМ перешёл на нашу сторону.
Комитет созвал трех гражданских свидетелей - без сомнения, по инициативе штатного сотрудника и помощника сенатора Харта, г-на Лина, известного участием в принятии нового полевого устава FM 100-5 "Операции". Это были: Карбер, Луттвак и Кенби.
Карбер пообедал со мной до слушаний, и мы смогли убедить его, что, хотя Бредли не совершенна, это лучшая боевая машина пехоты в настоящее время и что мы не можем с чистой совестью отправить американских солдат на войну в Европе в M113. Пожалуй, это звучит как приписывание заслуг Карбера себе. Фактически, у него получилось это объяснить лучше нас, указав, что M113 - первое поколение, БМП-1 и Мардер - второе поколение, а Бредли - третье поколение, по крайней мере, в области мобильности и огневой мощи. Он засвидетельствовал об этом на слушаниях.
Карбер - очень хороший человек, честный и умный. Он обеспокоен несоответствием защиты между Абрамсом и Бредли. Так же и Люттвак, так же и немцы относятся к «Леопарду» и «Мардеру», и так же и русские относятся к Т-72 и БМП-1. Так и нас это беспокоит.
Фил Карбер первоначально планировал рекомендовать прекратить разработку Бредли и переделать шасси Абрамса в БМП. Когда он выяснил, что это займет какое-то время, он неохотно согласился поддержать Бредли как единственный реальный вариант, доступный для нас в это время. Луттвак дал показания против Бредли, как и Кенби. Луттвак, как и Карбер, хочет больше защиты. А речь Кнеби была расплывчатой, смущеной и запутанной.
Уже более года я подумывал о необходимости Бронированной БМП, которая имела бы бронезащиту, равную Абрамсу. Эта мысль была вдохновлена израильским решением проблемы уязвимости бронетехники, через придание роты мотопехоты для каждого танкового батальона - штатной в военное время (в мирное время они не могут позволить себе содержать столько личного состава). На меня также повлиял тот факт, что Джордж Бланшар выступает за смешанный батальон, потому что он хочет тренироваться так, как он планирует сражаться.
Из-за очевидного влияния на программу Бредли и кошмарной мысли, что мы можем застрять с M113 еще на 10 лет, пока мы ещё раз начнём с начала разработку БМП, я не выпускал эту идею из TRADOC (Командование учебных и научных исследований по строительству СВ США).
Позавчера я прочитал в Jane's International Defense Review, что британская армия воскресила свою программу разработки БМП, но на этот раз планирует построить ее с Чобхэмом. Мне кажется, что сочетание Карбера, Луттвака, Нанна, Холлингсворта, концерна Бартлетт в сочетании с британской инициативой насчёт тяжелобронированной БМП, вероятно, означает безнадежность скрывания этой идеи.
Чем больше я думаю об этом вопросе, тем больше я считаю, что мы должны начать двигаться в направлении по-настоящему бронированной боевой машины пехоты, которая была бы связана организационно с каждым танковым батальоном. Эти машины, без сомнения, будут дорогими - они, конечно, будут тяжелыми - и, вероятно, будут излишними для батальонов механизированной пехоты, для которых нам все равно понадобится Бредли - мы точно не хотим оставаться с M113.
Другая мысль, которая может помочь, заключается в том, что мы приближаемся к концу развития Бредли - на самом деле, оно было бы в общем уже закончено, если бы не переделка башни и тянущаяся разработка автопушки Бушмастер. И если мы посмотрим не на вооружение находящееся в разработке, которое будет доделано примерно к 1985 году, а взглянем дальше - то увидим что запланировано очень мало. Другими словами, в программе разработок будет пустота, которую мы в принципе можем начинать заполнять сейчас.
Идея Бронированной БМП, использующей "специальную броню", ещё тихо изучается в TARDEC (Автобронетанковый центр по исследованиям, созданию и модернизации боевых бронированных машин СВ США). Впрочем, пока ещё тайное не стало слишком явным.
Я предлагаю вам и Датчу, и Джорджу Саммету, и Шай Мейер, и Говарду Кукси и мне встретиться как-нибудь в начале апреля, чтобы обсудить этот вопрос и заложить курс на будущее. Чувствительность этого очевидна, и опасности для программы Бредли ясны. Таким образом, это вероятно гарантировало бы напряжение мозгов ваших лучших людей, участвующих в таких вопросах.

Heavy Infantry Fighting Vehicle
Message to Multiple Addressees 16 November 1977

1. The purpose of this message is to set forth TRADOC concepts regarding the heavy infantry fighting vehicle (HIFV) and its relationship to the infantry fighting vehicle (IFV) and to related weapons development programs.

2. First it is necessary to consider operational concepts:

a. When requirements for the mechanized infantry combat vehicle (MICV) were first written, the operational scheme for its employment appears to have included the following:
(1) It was to be a combat vehicle system from which infantry fought, dismounting to assault or to fight dismounted in close terrain or builtup areas. It was _not_ simply an armored personnel carrier intended to afford protection from small arms and fragmentation weapons to infantry squads being transported to battle.
(2) Its primary weapon was to be a cannon. The cannon was to provide high volume automatic fire for suppression while attacking mounted and fire support of the rifle squad fighting dismounted. The vehicle rapid fire weapon system (VRFWS), later named Bushmaster, was the developmental candidate. For reasons now not clear, its caliber and other essential characteristics were determined by studies which putted it primarily against other like vehicles in the threat array. Its comparative effectiveness was set forth in like terms. It was for some time in its early development analyzed in a "war of the MICVs.''
(3) The rifle squad aboard the MICV was to be an eleven-man formation; dismounted it fought in two fire teams, like any other infantry squad. In this mode it was to be supported by automatic weapons fire from the MICV cannon.
(4) Antitank weapons for the MICV and its squad were to be those short-range weapons organic to the squad—Dragon and LAW.
(5) It was to accompany the tanks wherever possible—i.e., most of the time. While tanks would normally lead, terrain, builtup areas, and forests could cause infantry to lead, usually dismounted. It was also considered that tanks and infantry would normally attack together on the same axis, but that they would also move on separate axes, or tanks could overwatch by fire when obstacles, terrain, or other conditions dictated.

b. TRADOC s evaluation of the Yom Kippur War and other analyses led to a redefinition of MICV s operating concept. Thus, in early 1974, TRADOC s operational concept for MICV was redefined in terms of requirements to support tank-led combat teams by:
(1) Providing long-range suppressive fires against enemy infantry antitank teams.
(2) Providing suppressive fire while moving cross-country with tanks
(3) Providing high volume of suppressive overwatch fires to support dismounted infantry attacking enemy infantry who haven't been suppressed.
(4) Defeating the BMP beyond the range of the 73mm smoothbore gun mounted thereon.
(5) Firing antitank guided missiles from an armor-protected station aboard the vehicle,
(6) Protecting the crew against automatic weapons fire of calibers up to 14.5mm.
(7) Dismounting, when required by terrain, enemy, vegetation, or scheme of attack, a fire team of four, five, or six men armed with machineguns and short-range antitank weapons, and overwatching that fire team with fire from the fighting vehicle.

3. Now, as between [these two concepts], what is the same and what changed?
a. The idea of a fighting, not transporting, vehicle with a cannon system for suppression and protection for the crew remained essentially the same.
b. The fighting mode of mechanized infantry fighting dismounted changed considerably, from a squad with two fire teams supported by the vehicle cannon to a single fire team fighting with its fighting vehicle as the other element of a two-element fire and maneuver team at squad level. This change recognized, first, the reality that a full eleven-man squad would never be present for duty and that a single fire team of four, five, or six men would likely be all that could ever be dismounted for operations. Secondly, the changed concept recognized that, in the initial battle, the density of systems and intensity of the fight would make command-control so difficult at lower levels that it was necessary to reduce echelons to be controlled, in this case from three to two at squad level. This would also make platoon and company commanders' tasks somewhat less demanding.
c. The primary function of the cannon changed somewhat, emphasizing in place of unquantified statements of suppression needs the clear need to stand off the BMP by outranging the 73mm smoothbore and the need to suppress dismounted long-range antitank teams.
d. New was the requirement for a long-range, armor-protected antitank system. This change reflected recognition that survivability of tanks in the central battle needed to, and could be, improved considerably by a long-range antitank capability as part of combat teams fighting there. This was the genesis of the need to add the TOW-Bushmaster armored turret (TBAT) on the MICV.

4. Recognizing that TBAT represented such a change in materiel requirements for the MICV that it would result in a considerable MICV program delay, TRADOC began to search for an interim armor-protected, long-range antitank capability—interim between today's exposed crews, dismounted or in M113s, and MICV's protected weapons and crews. The outcome of that search was the improved TOW vehicle (ITV) program. The ITV, however, was never seen as a competitor for MICV’s mission. It was and is a mobile, long-range antitank system with limited armor protection. It was intended to replace the then-fielded TOW vehicle which featured a pedestal-mounted TOW system erected above the M113 deck and fired by a completely exposed firing crew.

5. As time wore on, and our perception of the central battle sharpened, two things became apparent. The first had to do with the employment of TOWs as part of the antitank tactics in the central battle; the second perception was one of questioning the capability of MICV to survive at the same level as the tank in the central battle. The Hunfeld studies at Knox, and subsequent work in V Corps, clearly demonstrated that thin-skinned M113s and Sheridans did not survive on a dense battlefield in an intense fight. They are simply too vulnerable to too many enemy weapons. This led to a conclusion that, given the level of armor protection we had required on it, MICV was not much more survivable than M113s or M551s. Therefore to survive they all had to stand off—on flanks, overwatching or wherever, especially in the attack. Also it became increasingly clear that our infantry system suffered from a mismatch of short-range and long-range weapons which confronted it with two insurmountable dilemmas in tactics. First, with regard to TOWs with infantry in our present organizational distribution, it became apparent that, where the short-range infantry deployed with properly emplaced TOWs, the infantry was in the wrong place on the battlefield. Contrariwise, when TOWs deployed with properly deployed short-range infantry, the TOWs were in the wrong place. Neither, therefore, could do its job very well if encumbered by the presence of the other, and one team member was always malemployed. Secondly, with regard to TOWs on MICV in an integrated turret, while the long-range antitank capability certainly made MICV a more versatile system, it also brought along a built-in dilemma—the missions for which one could effectively use the cannon against hard targets like BMP did not require TOW, and against soft targets at greater ranges the TOW was obviously not the correct weapon at all. With tanks in the central duel TOW could provide longer range antitank fires than the tanks, standing off even tanks, but it could not survive nearly so well as tanks. TOW on MICV made it a tank killer, but MICV’s survivability level made of it a stand-off system. The counterargument to this is, of course, the one reflected in the BMP—that is the Soviet doctrine of complementariness. As the Sagger and 73mm smoothbore fit the Soviet concept of complementary systems in the same vehicle, so do the cannon and TOW on MICV. Winch is the correct view cannot be determined for super certain, but it does appear that neither the BMP nor MICV can stand mixed in with tanks in the central battle and survive. Soviet BMP employment doctrine reflects this fact.

6. What grew from the perceptions just outlined was the idea of a heavy infantry fighting vehicle. It would have survivability equivalent to XM1. It would fight integrated with XM1 in the central duel. It would carry an assault team which would dismount to pry out an enemy gone to ground, but who for the most part would fight mounted. It need not, indeed could not mount an ATGM, but it did need a good armor-defeating direct and rapid fire weapon of fairly long range which could reach out to destroy lighter skinned vehicles at longer ranges, giving some stand-off, but which could also defeat tanks at the closer ranges of the central duel itself. It could, in short, unstress our tanks in the main battle, first by defeating enemy armor vehicles and antitank systems and second by joining in with the tanks, a target obviously so dangerous as to require the attention of more enemy systems, drawing them away from our tanks. The only weapon on the horizon—that is, under development—which seemed to match this need was the ARPA 75mm automatic cannon. While not everyone agreed at the time on this gun-vehicle match, what was fairly well agreed upon by all was that the HIFV was neither a competitor nor a follow-on for MICV. The two clearly had important, separate, but complementary roles on the battlefield.
a. Survivability was key—HIFV equaled XM1
b. Direct rapid fire armor-defeating weaponry was essential, but an ATGM system appeared not survivable enough, and not fast-firing enough, and a small caliber cannon not lethal enough.
c. Fighting with the tank in the central battle, it represented a lethal capability to all enemy armor within range. Therefore it would be a target which the enemy could not ignore, all of which spelled a system which could help unstress our tanks.

7. A task force has been appointed to evaluate this concept. While the task force is obviously chartered to examine such conceptual excursions and variations as may be appropriate, it is still essential from TRADOC's view that the original concept be thoroughly wrung out. There appears some confusion between several TRADOC agencies as to precisely what the HIFV concept is; the purpose of this message is to provide that information.

8. In summary :
a. We need the IFV.
b. The HIFV makes sense.
c. The HIFV would have comparable survivability to XM1; capability to kill tanks at shorter ranges; comparable mobility to XM1; long-range suppressive fire capability, especially against armored vehicles other than the tank and against antitank teams.
d. The question remains open as to whether different organizations and different mixes of IFV/HIFV may be needed.

Тяжелая Боевая Машин Пехоты
Сообщение нескольким адресатам 16 ноября 1977 г.

1. Цель этого сообщения состоит в том, чтобы изложить концепции TRADOC в отношении тяжёлой боевой машины пехоты (ТБМП) и ее связи с боевой машиной пехоты (БМП) и с программами разработки соответствующих вооружений.

2. Сначала необходимо рассмотреть операционные концепции:

a. Когда требования к боевой машине пехоты (БМП) были впервые записаны, операционная схема ее использования, по-видимому, включала следующее:
(1) Это была боевая машина, из которой пехота сражалась, спешивась для штурма или чтобы сражаться спешенной в закрытой местности или в застройке. Это был _не_ просто бронетранспортер, предназначенный для защиты перевозимых в бою пехотных отделений от огня стрелкового оружия и от осколков.
(2) Её основным оружием должна было стать пушка. Пушка должна была обеспечить большой темп автоматической стрельбы для подавления во время атаки без спешивания, и поддержку отделения, когда оно спешивалось. Кандидатом на разработку оказалась Оружейная Система Скоростного Огня для Машины (VRFWS), позже названная Бушмастер. По причинам, которые сейчас не ясны, его калибр и другие существенные характеристики были определены исследованиями, которые в массиве угроз в основном касались других подобных машин. Его сравнительная эффективность была сформулирована в аналогичных выражениях. В течение некоторого времени его раннее развитие анализировалось в "войне БМП".
(3) Мотопехотное отделение на борту БМП должно было состоять из 11 человек; спешившись, они сражались в двух звеньях, как и любое другое пехотное отделение. В этом режиме оно должно было поддерживаться автоматическим огнем из пушки БМП.
(4) Противотанковое оружие для БМП и её отделения должно было быть оружием ближнего действия, которое было штатным для отделения - Дрэгон и LAW.
(5) Она должна была сопровождать танки везде, где это возможно - то есть большую часть времени. Хотя танки будут как правило впереди, пересечённая местность, застройка и леса могут привести к тому, что впереди окажется пехота - как правило, спешенная. Считалось также, что танки и пехота обычно атакуют вместе на одной оси, но они также будут перемещаться по отдельным осям, или танки могут вести наблюдение при необходимости поддерживая огнём - в зависимости от препятствий, рельефа местности или других условий.

b. Оценка TRADOC во время войны Судного дня и другие исследования привели к переопределению операционной концепции БМП. Таким образом, в начале 1974 года операционная концепция TRADOC для БМП была переопределена с точки зрения требований к поддержке боевых групп, возглавляемых танками, требуя от неё:
(1) Обеспечивать дальнобойный огонь на подавление против вражеских пехотных противотанковых расчётов.
(2) Обеспечивать огонь на подавление при движении по пересеченной местности вместе с танками
(3) Обеспечивать большую плотность огня на подавление - для поддержки спешенных пехотинцев, атакующих ту вражескую пехоту, которая не была подавлена.
(4) Поражать БМП-1 за пределами дальности стрельбы установленного на ней 73мм гладкоствольного орудия.
(5) Стрелять противотанковыми управляемыми ракетами из бронированной установки установленной на машине
(6) Защищать экипаж от огня автоматического оружия калибром до 14,5 мм включительно.
(7) Спешивать, когда это потребуется местностью, врагом, растительностью или планом атаки, звено из четырех, пяти или шести человек, вооружённых пулеметами и противотанковым оружием малой дальности, и поддерживать это звено огнём из БМП.

3. Теперь, между [этими двумя понятиями], что то же, а что изменилось?
a. Идея боевой машины, не транспортёра, с пушкой для подавления и защиты экипажа и десанта осталась практически такой же.
b. Способ ведения боя спешенной механизированной пехоты резко изменился: от отделения с двумя звеньями, поддерживаемыми пушкой машины, к единственному отделению, сражающуюся вместе с боевой машиной, в качестве элемента команды из двух частей, осуществляющей "огонь и манёвр" на уровне отделения. Это изменение признало, во-первых, реальность того, что отделение из 11 человек никогда не будет укомлпектовано, и что одно звено из четырех, пяти или шести человек - вероятно, будет всем, что можно было бы на практике спешивать для операций. Во-вторых, изменившаяся концепция признала, что в начальном бою плотность систем и интенсивность сражения сделают командный контроль настолько сложным на более низких уровнях, что необходимо сократить эшелоны управления, в этом случае от трех до двух на уровне отделения. Это также несколько упростило бы и задачи командиров взвода и роты.
c. Основная функция орудия несколько изменилась, подчеркивая вместо нечетких заявлений о необходимости подавления - явную необходимость противостоять БМП-1 через превосходство над её 73-мм гладкоствольным орудием, и необходимость подавления спешенных противотанковых расчётов с дальнобойным оружием.
d. Новым было требование дальнобойного забронированного противотанкового оружия. Это изменение отразило признание того, что живучесть танков в "центральном сражении" должна была и могла быть значительно улучшена дальнобойным противотанковым средством в составе боевых групп, сражающихся там. Так зародилась потребность поставить на БМП Бронированную Башню ТОУ-Бушмастер (TBAT).

4. Признавая, что TBAT представляет такое изменение в потребных ресурсах для БМП, что это приведет к значительной задержке программы, TRADOC начал поиск промежуточного средства противотанковой обороны, защищенного броней, - промежуточного между нынешними неприкрытыми расчётами, спешенными или высовывающимися из M113, и между забронированным вооружением и прикрытым экипажем и десантом на БМП. Результатом этого поиска стала программа по созданию "Усовершенствованной машины с ТОУ" (ITV). Однако ITV никогда не рассматривалась как конкурент для БМП. Это была подвижная дальнобойная противотанковая система с ограниченным бронированием. Ею предполагалось заменять имевшиеся машины M113 с ТОУ, в которых ТОУ установлена на лафете возвышающемся на крыше, и расчёт никак не прикрыт при стрельбе.

5. С течением времени, и наше восприятие "центрального сражения" улучшилось, стали очевидны две вещи. Первая из них связана с использованием ТОУ в рамках противотанковой тактики в "центральном сражении"; вторая была вопросом о способности БМП выживать так же как и танки в "центральном сражении". Исследования Хунфельда в Ноксе и последующая работа в 5 корпусе ясно показали, что слабобронированные М113 и Шеридан не выживали на насыщенном поле битвы в интенсивной борьбе. Они слишком уязвимы для слишком большого количества вражеского оружия. Это привело к выводу, что, учитывая уровень защиты брони, который нам требовался, БМП оказалась ненамного более живучей, чем M113 или M551. Поэтому, чтобы выжить, все они должны были стоять в стороне - на флангах, наблюдая за местностью и так далее, особенно в атаке.
Кроме того, становилось все более очевидным, что наша пехотная система страдала от несоответствия оружия ближнего и дальнего действия, что ставило ее перед двумя непреодолимыми дилеммами в тактике. Во-первых, что касается ТОУ с пехотой в нашем нынешнем организационном распределении, - стало очевидно, что там, где пехота развернута вместе с правильно размещенными ТОУ, то пехота с её оружием ближнего боя находилась не в том месте на поле битвы. И наоборот, когда ТОУ были развернуты рядом с с правильно развернутой пехотой, то дальнобойные ТОУ находились не в том месте. Поэтому ни один из них не мог выполнять свою работу достаточно хорошо, если был обременен присутствием другого, и из этой пары один всегда не был задействован в полную силу. Во-вторых, что касается ТОУ в башне БМП, то в то время как наличие дальнобойного противотанкового средства, безусловно, сделало БМП более универсальной системой, но оно также принесло с собой дилемму - задачи в которых можно эффективно использовать пушку против бронированных целей, таких как БМП-1, не требуют ТОУ, а использовать ТОУ против небронированных целей на больших дистанциях, очевидно, было совсем неверным. С танками в центральной дуэли - ТОУ мог обеспечить более дальний огонь, чем имеющиеся танки, удерживая даже танковую атаку, но БМП не так хорошо выживала, как танки. ТОУ на БМП делал её убийцей танков, но уровень живучести БМП заставлял её держаться подальше от противника. Контраргумент к этому, конечно, тот, который отражен в БМП-1 - это советская доктрина взаимодополняемости. Поскольку Малютка и 73-миллиметровый гладкоствольное орудие соответствуют советской концепции дополнительных систем в одной и той же машине, то же самое можно сказать о пушке и ТОУ на БМП. Какой из этих взглядов - верный - не может быть определено сверхнадежно, но кажется, что ни БМП-1, ни БМП не могут смешаться с танками в "центральном сражении" и выжить. Советская доктрина использования БМП-1 отражает этот факт.

6. Что выросло из только что изложенных размышлений, было представление о Тяжёлой Боевой Машине Пехоты. Она обеспечила бы живучесть, эквивалентную XM1. Она будет сражаться с XM1 в центральной дуэли. Она будет нести штурмовую группу, которая выковыряла бы окопавшегося противника, но которая по большей части сражалась бы не спешенной. Ей не надо, да и на самом деле и не получится, ставить ПТУР, но для неё потребовалось бы хорошее бронебойное орудие способное на прямой частый огонь на довольно большой дальности, которое могло бы уничтожить легкие машины на больших дистанциях, не давая подобраться поближе, и которое могло бы также победить танки на более близких дистанциях "центральной дуэли". Короче говоря, она могла бы снять напряжение с наших танков в основном сражении, во-первых, победив бронетехнику и противотанковые средства противника, а затем, присоединившись к танкам, - и будучи целью, очевидно, настолько опасной, что привлекла бы внимания большого количества вражеских средств, отвлекая их от наших танков. Единственное оружие на горизонте, то есть находящееся в стадии разработки, которое, казалось, соответствовало этой потребности, было 75-мм автоматической пушкой от ARPA. Хотя в то время не все были согласны с этой конкретной парой "машина-оружие", все согласились с тем, что ТБМП не является ни конкурентом, ни преемником БМП. У этих двух явно были важные, отдельные, но взаимодополняющие роли на поле битвы.
a. Живучесть была ключевой - ТБМП соответствовала XM1
b. Бронебойное орудие способное на прямой частый огонь было необходимо, но ПТУР выглядел недостаточно живучим и недостаточно быстрым, а орудие небольшого калибра оказалось недостаточно смертоносным.
c. Сражаясь с танком в "центральном сражении", она представляла смертоносное средство против всей вражеской брони в пределах досягаемости. Следовательно, это была бы цель, которую враг не сможет игнорировать, что означает что такая машина помогла бы упростить жизнь нашим танкам.

7. Для оценки этой концепции была назначена комиссия. Хотя комиссия, очевидно, имеет полномочия для изучения таких концептуальных ответвлений и вариантов, которые могут быть уместными, с точки зрения TRADOC, все же важно, чтобы первоначальная концепция была тщательно исследована. Между несколькими агентствами TRADOC возникает некоторая путаница относительно того, что именно представляет собой концепция ТБМП; и цель этого сообщения - предоставить эту информацию.

8. Вкратце:
a. Нам нужна БМП.
b. ТБМП имеет смысл.
c. ТБМП будет иметь сравнимую живучесть с XM1; способность убивать танки на более коротких дистанциях; сопоставимую мобильность с XM1; способность к подавляющему огню дальнего действия, особенно против бронемашин, отличных от танков, и против противотанковых расчётов.
d. Остается открытым вопрос о том, могут ли понадобиться различные ОШС и различные сочетания БМП/ТБМП.