Red October

The Thursday Documentary - No Deck To Strut Upon

Dear Last Resort: You can’t turn mass murder into a minor subplot

There are movie ideas and there are TV show ideas. Plenty of movies have been turned into great TV shows, and vice versa — but there are some ideas that can only work in movies or television. Some ideas need 100 hours, some can only support two.

Beginning to wonder if Last Resort is just an idea that would work for a movie, but not so much as a weekly TV show?.

So as various people have already pointed out, there's already been a movie along sort of the same lines as Last Resort — 1995's Crimson Tide. Last Resort's approach to trying to turn the premise of a nuclear submarine crew that mutinies rather than launch nukes into a weekly series is: 1) develop the situation of the submarine crew being on a tropical island, where they have to make it work with the locals, and 2) delve into the eeeeeevil conspiracy behind the order to launch nukes, back in Washington DC.

And this week's episode really tries to make both of those things work. In the "A" plot, the local strongman Julian Serrat has kidnapped three of the submarine crewmembers, and Captain Chaplin is forced to basically become a drug runner to get them back. It's pretty horrible and demoralizing, and erodes any sense that these people actually stand for any sort of principles. In the "B" plot, Kylie Sinclair keeps digging into the mystery of the "fire" order that came through the Antarctic network — only to have the secrets of her prototype Cloaking Device stolen. Oh, and there's a "C" plot where the Navy SEAL guy goes swimming with Dichen Lachman, who has daddy issues.

It's all perfectly serviceable, but I'm not sure any of it is that compelling. Julian Serrat was set up in the pilot as being sort of a petty thug, but in this episode he's suddenly a murderous arch-fiend whom Captain Chaplin somehow can't swat like a bug. I kind of like the idea that Chaplin is forced to get his hands dirty, and even swallow the death of one of his men at Serrat's hands, because he can't afford to fight a war on two fronts — but they haven't made Serrat the fascinating character he needs to be for any of this to work. Plus I was so grossed out by the idea that Lopez had sex with Serrat to buy herself and the other hostages some time, I could barely focus on the rest of this storyline. Guh.

The rest of the island characters remain even less fascinating than Serrat, too — I honestly could not have cared any less about whether Sophie the "Nutella is better than sex" woman left the island forever or not. And all of the "Dichen Lachman goes swimming" sequences left me kind of nonplussed. (Plus didn't Navy SEAL guy have a whole team with him? Where did they go?)

And I'm all for digging into the big conspiracy behind the nuking of Pakistan and the attack on the Colorado — yes please! — but only if we actually learn something. Like, why the Deputy Sec Def? Why the Antarctic Network? Was this behind the President's back? And if so, is the President now on board with it after the fact? Why is the Deputy Sec Def now the Sec Def, just a day or two later? You'd think the news media would be curious about a change of Defense Secretary at this crucial time, actually.

Which brings me to the biggest problem I have with Last Resort right now: they nuked Pakistan and it's a minor plot point. (I apologize to anyone who's bothered that I mention this in the headline of this piece. I don't think it's really a spoiler at this point, since it appears to be part of the basic premise of Last Resort, like "the police box is a time machine" is for Doctor Who. And it's at the root of my main issue with the show.)

Everything that happens here, including Chaplin trying to get three of his people back, feels like a minor sideline compared to the enormity of millions of people dying.

The nuking of Pakistan is actually mentioned once in this episode, when we see a talking head on television trotting out an (apparently false) story about Pakistan having portable nukes that were going to be used in a terrorist attack, unless the U.S. acted first. And as Kylie observes, a nuclear first strike is now apparently the new default policy of the United States, which in itself is a huge big deal.

But also, we still haven't seen any of the fallout (so to speak) from this attack. We haven't even seen any images of the devastation in Pakistan, or how people are coping there. There are no Pakistani characters in the show. Just how many people actually died, out of the 177 million people in the country? And no other dominos have fallen. (Okay, so maybe this wouldn't be World War III right off the bat. But how would India react? What would happen in Afghanistan? This is a complicated region we're talking about here.) Is there some debate among U.S. political figures about the ethics of preemptive nuking as a defense strategy?

I guess that one reason the pilot of Last Resort was so thrilling was because they went there and actually blew up a goddamn country full of millions of people. Which was a gutsy, insane move. But now they gotta follow through. And the events of this show, the submarine hiding out on an island full of wacky people, only really make sense against the backdrop of the whole goddamn world falling apart. If they really want to make nuking Pakistan no big deal, or just a pot simmering on the back burner, then my suspension of disbelief is going to keep getting more and more strained.

On the plus side, they got the COB (the great Robert Patrick) out of the brig, by having him make a deal with Captain Chaplin — the COB will go back to doing his job and following orders, and meanwhile Chaplin will try his best to get home for a court martial as fast as he can, where Prosser can be the star witness. I'm glad they've explicitly stated that as the goal now.

Submarines - South Korea To The Rescue

On September 4th South Korea launched the first of two rescue and salvage ships. These will replace retired American ships (built in the 1970s) that South Korea has been using for over a decade. These new ATS (the letter code for Salvage and Rescue Ships) type vessels are equipped to send down divers to sunk ships and bring back essential equipment (like code books or secret electronics) and bodies of sailors.

ATS ships, like the new 3,500 ton South Korean vessels, can also clean up oil spills and tow ships displacing up to 15,000 tons (which takes care of the largest ships in the South Korean navy). There is also sonar and remotely controlled camera equipment to get a close look at sunk ships, or the hulls of those still afloat and badly danged. An ATS ship can also handle submarine rescue, including recovering sailors trapped inside a sunk ship. But that gear is only good for shallow waters (down to 90 meters/272 feet).

For deep water rescue, especially from submarines, South Korea can call in portable submarine rescue equipment, like the American SRDRS (Submarine Rescue Diving and Recompression System). This is a modular system that weighs under 200 tons and can be flown anywhere on the planet within 72 hours (faster depending on the distance and availability of heavy transport aircraft.) The SRDRS was designed to be operated from most merchant ships, as an ATS type ship won't always be available soon enough.

SRDRS consists of two main components. There is the rescue module, which is a remotely controlled submersible that descends to the stricken sub, attaches itself to the rescue hatch, and has room for 16 sailors. Once on the surface, the sub links to a decompression chamber, where the sailors have to stay for a while to acclimate them to surface pressures (and prevent the bends). In addition to the rescue vehicle and decompression module, there is support equipment. There are also smaller underwater vehicles and pressure suits for divers. These are flown in first, to explore the stricken sub in detail, clear any debris from the subs rescue hatch, and basically gather information to the actual rescue can be carefully planned.

Five years ago, Britain, Norway and France completed the construction of the NATO Submarine Rescue Vehicle (SRV). This is very similar to the SRDRS. NATO SRV was a $95 million project that resulted in a deep water rescue device that can be airlifted to anywhere in the world on short notice, fit on the deck of at least 140 identified ships, and mate with the escape hatches on most of the worlds' submarines, and carry up to 15 men at a time to the surface. This system is shipped in eleven waterproof cargo containers that can be flown by military or civilian cargo aircraft. Including flight time, set up time on the ship, and movement time to the site of the distressed submarine, the NATO SRV should be able to get there and have the SRV in the water within 72 hours. The SRV itself is ten meters (31 feet) long and weighs 27 tons, has a crew of three and can go as deep as 1,000 meters (which is the maximum depth for most submarines.)

The U.S. and NATO systems are very similar, but not identical. The basic idea behind this modular design is to enable the rescue system to reach the stricken sub as soon as possible. Once the air runs out down there, rescue is no longer possible. All the navies of the world are invited to modify, if necessary, their rescue hatches (usually just the main hatch on the top of the sub) to accept the U.S. or NATO rescue vehicles. If they do that, the NATO or U.S. rescue systems (depending on whose is closest) will be sent to attempt a rescue. The U.S. system is based in California, the NATO one in northern Europe. South Korea could call on either one in case of a submarine emergency.

Short sail sparks decades of memories By JIM (LUCKY) GORDON

As a decommissioned sub heads to an Ontario museum, a long-serving crewman takes one last trip aboard

The last of the Oberon-class submarines, HMCS Ojibwa, on the Dartmouth waterfront in late May. The submarine, decommissioned in 1998, was one of three diesel-elec­tric submarines purchased by Canada in the 1960s. The sub has been dry-docked on a barge and sent to the Elgin Military Museum in St. Thomas, Ont. 

She had been laying here at Naval Armament Depot in Dartmouth, in the full view of all who crossed the Angus L. Macdonald Bridge, since her decommissioning 14 years earlier. I would often catch a glimpse of her as I crossed the bridge.

I always felt bad for her and pondered her fate. Having known her so intimately for so many years I hoped she would not suffer the brutal torches of the breakers yard. Having served so admirably, HMCS Ojibwa deserved much better.

On this particular day, May 26, 2012, I would have the pleasure of simply sitting on the submarine’s fin as she was loaded aboard the Heddle Marine Systems drydock.

As I approached her my heart rose to my throat with mixed emotion. I walked slowly down the jetty past her and observed that sections of her casing had been removed. I could see the flaking paint and rust showing through on her pressure hull and tank tops.

Torpedo loading rails were long gone and one of the berthing line stowage stag horns was broken off.

The jet black of the remaining casing and her once dominant fin had faded to large blotches of grey and white with streaks of red rust. Her starboard after plane guard, well clear of the water, was bent down like a sad dog’s ear. She had been handled roughly by someone who was not aware of her many years of gallant service to her crew and coun­try.

Civilian riggers and seamen from Heddle Marine Systems were unceremoniously fitting her with unfamiliar rigging required for se­curing to the dry dock that would transport her to her final destination in Port Burwell, Ont. She was sitting very high in the water, void of torpedoes, equipment, liquids and stores removed many years earlier. Ugly dry marine growth covered her ballast tanks up to her original waterline. Up close she was a dreadful and pitiful sight. I think she could sense I was there.

I could feel her embarrassment. I could swear she hung her head to avoid my shocked expression.

Her appearance was far from what it was when she first entered the waters of Halifax Harbour on that cold windy day in January 1966. Even on that day she hadn’t looked her very best. The 11-day dived transit of the unforgiving North Atlantic, her first of many, had taken its toll on the linseed oil and lamp­black mixture over flat black paint I had applied back in Chatham Yard after workups in Scotland. That treatment gave her the sleek, black messenger-of-death attitude we were so proud of.

But on that special occasion, like a true warrior of the deep, she wore her sea scars proudly. I stood on her casing with heaving line in hand as she approached Jetty 4 with authority. I could feel her swell with pride when the Stadacona Band broke into a rous­ing rendition of Hearts of Oak and the in­board berthing party and dignitaries ap­plauded and cheered. On that day she was welcoming their inspection with all her glory. And my heart swelled with pride, feeling honoured that she trusted me to be a vital member of the crew that gave her the eyes, ears and tender loving care essential to her future performance.

However, 46 years and 4 months later, I wanted to apologize to her for crossing her brow to invade her misery. I snapped to atten­tion at the top of the brow and chopped off a salute aft, as I had thousands of times in the past.

Normally a salute to our fine nation’s flag, today it was a mark of respect to her. I made my way up into the fin. I tried not to see the filth left behind by years of nesting birds. I was sorry to see that the deck of the bridge was gone.

I paused for a moment at the top of the ladder to recall the many times I had stopped there, on my way below, with main vents open, to shut the upper voice pipecock and then proceed quickly below through the con­ning tower as she slipped quietly into her comfort zone below the surface. And at the bottom of the ladder in the control room, watching the diving officer of the watch in the tower I would repeat his report to the captain, “Upper lid shut, one clip on, two clips on . . . upper lid shut two clips on, sir".

I could still hear the wash of the sea into the fin and over the conning tower as we slipped into an expanse very few would ever have the privilege to know.

I hitched myself up onto the top of the fin and sat just forward of where the attack peri­scope would silently slip out of its housing for the final attack setup on the surface target or one last all round look before going deep.

It didn’t take much imagination to see the compass repeat and the back of the officer of the watch’s head as he took a fix on an edge of land.

Just for a moment I thought I heard the request through the voice pipe, “Bridge, helm permission to relieve the lookout." Great, my lookout watch is over. I can’t wait to get be­low for that hot cup of tea and to watch the movie playing in the forward torpedo room.

Wow, I want to stay in this place I’m in right now.

It’s disappointing to come back to ruthless reality of age and decline … for both of us.

Once again in the present, down below on the casing the Heddle crew were scurrying around, taking lines from the tugs and pre­paring to slip the berthing lines from the jetty. It didn’t seem very seamanlike to me and it looked a bit disorganized. I thought, “Damn!

I wish I could go down and take charge of that lot."

But I closed my eyes to return to the past.

Now I can see submariners in their signature white turtleneck sweaters smartly handling lines and I hear the orders from the XO on the bridge at Harbour Stations, “let go four … let go three … hold two, heave in on the capstan, slow ahead port ... stop together, starboard 10, slow astern together … let go two, let go one … fall in the casing party, face to starboard." I felt a rush as the last line was gone and the tugs were setting us free of the jetty.

The tugs moved us out astern and began manoeuvring us out of the chamber and around the jetty. I swear I felt the guttural rumble and throb of the port donk (diesel engine) as it flashed up and belched beautiful huge white billows of diesel exhaust out of the surface muffler. Ahhh; that sweet per­meating smell of diesel. As we cleared the north end of the jetty and moved south out past the Heddle dry dock I felt the strong southeasterly wind on my face blowing up the harbour. I could smell the open sea. We moved up ahead of the dry dock and they slowly began to move her astern into the cradle. She seemed to balk, reluctant to be pent up now that she felt the freedom.

With a ships head of 120° she was pointed directly out to sea, past Georges Island, McNabs Island, Maughers beach lighthouse. I felt her shudder and list, ever so slightly, to port. It might have been the little pup tug nudging her number four starboard main ballast tank to force her into position.

But in my heart it was the boat herself, shuddering in eager anticipation.

My last harbour stations in this fine lady was truly an honour. It gave me an excellent opportunity to reflect on the eternal esteem and comradeship that lies in the hearts and souls of my underwater messmates. I sub­mersed myself in a flood of exciting memories afforded by this magnificent vessel. And I appropriately rounded off my time with her.

From commissioning on Sept. 23, 1965, at Chatham, England where she was built, to her grand entrance into Halifax Harbour on Jan. 26, 1966, to today, May 26, 2012, the last time she would grace the waters of this his­toric seaport. She has always been such an important part of my life and who I am.

So now I am content that her life will continue in a new role that presents the lega­cy of an era of the brotherhood of submar­iners who served her well. She will represent the finest of professionalism and tradition as an example for the new breed to follow. Com­plete with a facelift, a little makeup and a fresh coat of flat black paint, she will stand proud at the Elgin Military Museum in St.

Thomas, Ont., for all to see.

Until we meet again … fair winds and a following sea.

Retired submariner Jim (Lucky) Gordon was a member of the commissioning crew for HMCS Ojibwa. He retired in 1997 after a 36-year career in the navy.

Shore Patrol: WWII-era submarines tell a story

The World War II National Submarine Memorial-West, at the Seal Beach Naval Weapons Station, is offering itself for a time of reflection.

Several hundred people attended a dignified ceremony this Memorial Day to remember the sacrifices of servicemen and women.

But plans are now being developed to improve the site, possibly with a museum and library, said Ed Barwick, memorial director.

The plans also include efforts to showcase the histories of the 52 submarines lost during World War II. Memorial Day's "tolling the boats" ceremony included only the name of each mourned submarine and the number of lost crew members.

"One of my planned projects is to install `story boards' around the memorial," said Barwick. "This will allow people to do self-guided tours and learn more about the history of these submarines and their crews."

Dave Vanderveen, who volunteered to write some of the submarine history narratives, reports that an assessment of military combat performance by a joint Army-Navy commission found that American submarines sank nearly 1,400 Japanese ships, or 55percent of Japan's total lost ships. The remainder were sunk by surface forces, Naval and Army aircraft or mines.

The U.S. submarine force was composed of about 50,000 officers and enlisted men - 16,000 crewmen, plus support personnel and staff - or 1.6 percent of the total Navy complement. According to Vanderveen, a force representing less than 2 percent of the Navy

destroyed 55 percent of Japan's navy and merchant marine ships.

Among the 52 U.S. submarines sunk during World War II, more than 3,500 officers and enlisted men died, Vanderveen noted, adding that the submarine service lost 22 percent of its personnel, "the highest loss rate for any branch of the military."

Excerpts from Vanderveen's first draft for the planned story boards include these details:

In February 1942, the first loss to Japanese anti-submarine forces occurred at sea. USS Shark was sunk by surface craft in Molucca Passage with the loss of 59 crewmen.

In January 1943, USS Argonaut attacked a group of five Japanese ships, hitting one destroyer for damage. In turn, Argonaut was attacked with depth charges which lifted her to the surface where she was hit many times by gunfire. She soon sank with a loss of all hands.

One of the submarine Navy's legendary events occurred in February 1943, when USS Growler attacked a small convoy. In the heat of battle, the craft collided with one of the small ships whose crew machine-gunned the submarine's bridge and shears, killing two men and wounding the captain, Howard W. Gilmore. He ordered the other survivors to clear the bridge, then ordered his executive officer to "take her down."

In November 1943, the USS Sculpin, with division commander Capt. John Cromwell, attacked a Japanese convoy near Truk (now Chuuk). Destroyers damaged the ship and it waited for attackers to leave. Cromwell ordered the crew to abandon the sub, and he chose to go down with the Sculpin. He and 11 others died.

In October 1944, the USS Tang, already among the most successful submarines, sank five ships in three attacks. With half its torpedoes still aboard, the sub then attacked another convoy, sinking two ships. Crew members loaded the last two torpedoes and fired them at the target. One ran hot, straight and normal, but the other circled back to the Tang. The torpedo struck the submarine, destroying the engine room and after-torpedo room. Altogether, eight men survived.

On Aug. 6, 1945, USS Bullhead was sighted by an aircraft that dropped bombs, hitting the boat twice. Bullhead, the last U.S. submarine lost in World War II, sank with all hands.

U-Boat Attack

Submariner

Life as we know it!

Experts out to solve deep-sea mystery of the USS Scorpion

Shipwreck disaster experts are calling for a deep-sea expedition to a lost U.S. nuclear attack sub, the USS Scorpion, in an effort to verify a new theory on what caused the Cold War vessel to sink.

The Scorpion was lost May 22, 1968, killing 99 men, about 400 miles south of the Azores Islands in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. The sub has been inspected by undersea recovery teams, including a visit in 1985 by oceanographer Robert Ballard before his team's discovery of the Titanic shipwreck.

The cause of the sub's loss remains hotly disputed. A Navy Court of Inquiry found "the cause of the loss cannot be definitively ascertained."

"The families of those 99 men are still out there, and they want to know what happened," says former U.S. naval officer Paul Boyne, who presented a new mechanical explanation for the loss of the sub at a recent marine forensics symposium outside Washington.

Panelists at the event called for a summer expedition to the sub's wreck, led by P.H. Nargeolet, another Titanic explorer, saying it might put to rest a multitude of theories about the Scorpion's demise — ranging from a covert Soviet attack to a torpedo self-firing into the ship to a faulty trash disposal.

Evidence for a more mundane explanation comes from the sub's propeller shaft, Boyne says. Undersea photographs show it rests about 20 yards outside the wreck on the seafloor, about 11,220 feet underwater. Boyne suggests that rubber bearings holding the propeller shaft failed, putting stress on the coupling connecting it to the engine. The coupling's bolts failed catastrophically during a deep test dive, the theory goes, spilling water into the sub too rapidly to allow ballast maneuvers to raise the ship to the surface.

As support, Boyne points to the loss in 1963 of the USS Thresher, the only other nuclear submarine lost by the Navy. The Thresher suffered a similar crushing end but retained its propeller shaft within its hull.

In its planned proposal to the Navy's Naval History & Heritage Command in Washington, the team would send a robot sub to the wreck to photograph the displaced shaft.

The robot would send a small tethered camera into the ship's engine room to examine the damage to the coupling bolts.

Because the sub carried two nuclear-tipped torpedoes and a nuclear reactor, the Navy has periodically tested the water around the submarine for radiological releases, at least as recently as 1998.

"What happened to the Scorpion isn't so much a mystery, as a secret," says Ed Offley, author of Scorpion Down: Sunk by the Soviets, Buried by the Pentagon, which argues for the covert Soviet sub attack explanation.

Investigators who start from technical documents related to the ship's loss, typically differ with his interpretation, he says, which was based on interviews with Navy personnel.

"It couldn't hurt to have a documented expedition to Scorpion," says Offley, who is not a member of the proposed expedition team.

On May 27, 1968, family members of the USS Scorpion's crew waited on a Norfolk dock for the return of the submarine.

At least 11 of them have joined in the call for the expedition.

History of the Russian Submarine Service - Part Four

Those Attacking from under the Dark Deep

The first post-war Soviet submarines construction period is characterized by construction of underwater ships with improved performance characteristics (as compared to the Great Patriotic War subs). Apart from cruising capacity, endurance and submergence capacity improvement, surface and submerge speed, number of torpedo-tubes and, of course, displacement were significantly increased. However, their power installations still remained diesel-electric. Various experiments on integrated engine submarine construction had been conducted; a pilot submarine with this type of power installation had been designed but no further impulse was given to this branch of submarine power engineering.

During this period submarines of the two main types, se-going and ocean-going (with increased cruising capacity and endurance) were built. Ocean-going submarines sailed not only the neighboring seas but the most distant water areas of the World Ocean. By that time, several underwater ships had already been armed with ballistic and cruise missiles. However, even those latest ocean-going submarines had shortcomings the main of which were their inability to stay submerged for long periods of time and maneuver at high speed as well as the necessity to recharge their storage batteries and replenish high-pressure air supply using snorkel equipment (a special device securing diesel functioning under water) or surfacing.

During the post-war period, the USA together with NATO countries launched a global nuclear-missile system. Being put in such conditions, the Navy underwater forces were given absolutely new tasks – destruction of enemy nuclear-powered missile carriers with the purpose of preventing them from delivering nuclear-missile attacks on our country; return nuclear-missile attacks targeting his strategic objectives; destruction of his aircraft-carriers and other important surface ship forces as well as anti-submarine forces, landing troops and convoys both in the ocean and at their bases. These determined the purpose of the new submarines as well as the nature of the tasks to be fulfilled by them and a general trend of the Navy underwater forces development.

Starting from the middle of the 1950th, a new era in the Navy development was initiated, namely the formation of the ocean nuclear-missile fleet and, first of all, the construction of nuclear-powered torpedo submarines and, later, missile-carrying submarines and strategic nuclear-missile systems. In due course, the underwater vessels construction was divided into two key branches.

The first one included strategic submarines intended for delivering nuclear-missile attacks on the enemy’s most important military-economic objectives. Such submarines were armed with long-range “ship-to-surface” ballistic or cruise missiles with nuclear warheads and torpedoes for self-defence.

The second branch concentrated on the so-called multi-purpose submarines meant for destroying enemy nuclear-powered underwater missile-carriers, surface ships and transports as well as for reconnaissance and guard operations. Multi-purpose submarines incorporate various types of submarines which are armed with “ship-to-ship” missiles, torpedoes and subsurface-to-subsurface missiles. They are also capable of laying mines using their torpedo-tubes.

With nuclear power installations invention, submarines have really become underwater vessels rather than just “diving’ ones as they used to be before. Nowadays, the sufficient energy reserve allows them to stay submerged for a long period of time and surface at a periscope depth only to find their bearings in the ocean either by stars, sun, or using space technology and radio-navigation systems.

In July 1962, the nuclear-powered submarine Leninsky Komsomol under the command of Captain Second Rank L.M. Zhiltsov sailed under the ice to the North Pole. One year later, in September 1963, the complement of the submarine under Captain Second Rank Y.A. Sysoev surfaced right in the North Pole and hoisted our National flag and ensign above the ice-hummocks. In February-March 1966, several nuclear-powered submarines under the command of Rear Admiral A.I. Sorokin circumnavigated the globe.

Entirely new weather conditions and, first of all, extended periods of underwater navigation as well as abundance of complex, sophisticated devices and weaponry on board demands much of very crew member. A sailor, if put in such conditions, has to be strictly disciplined , courageous, cool under pressure, determined and physically strong; he also has to be able to take correct decisions quickly in any situation and be capable of great psychological endurance. All the next generations of our submariners should keep all the above-mentioned in mind.

One of the latest trends in the Navy development of the most developed countries has been a further build-up of strategic potential focusing, first and foremost, on modification of the underwater nuclear-missile forces which are the basis of the Fleet striking power.

The recent years have shown that only highly-developed industrialized countries with powerful economic potential and a very high level of technological and scientific advances have been capable of this kind of development which is characterized by introduction of state of the art technology and the very latest weaponry for armed battles at sea, conduction of tactical exercises and military training as well as keeping the navy in perfect fighting trim all the time.

In terms of arms and Armed Forces development, our country is switching over to an entirely new military doctrine based on the principle of “sensible sufficiency” as far as country defence is concerned.