Recent discussions in this forum have focused on the details of how one ship—the USS Theodore Roosevelt (CVN-71)—dealt with the threat of the COVID-19 virus, but now that the aperture has opened a bit and more is known about the virus and its effect shipboard personnel, a light came on for me. I am convinced that there is a completely different lens to look at the COVID-19 virus—that of unit self-defense.

What we have seen in the past few weeks is a reaction similar to other incidents of “first blood” and the basic tenets of the Rules of Engagement and Department of Defense (DoD) Regulations on Use of Force:

Unit Commanders always retain the inherent right and obligation to exercise unit self-defense in response to a hostile act or demonstrated hostile intent.

There it is—and it was right in front of me the entire time!

Bear with me. What do the following events have in common:

• Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor
• Japanese torpedo attack on the USS Indianapolis (CA-35)
• North Korea’s attack on the USS Pueblo (AGER-2)
• Iraqi attack on the USS Stark (FFG-31)
• Mine strike by the USS Tripoli (LPH-10) and Samuel B. Roberts (FFG-58)
• Al Qaeda small boat attack on the USS Cole (DDG-67)
• Houthi missile attack on the USS Mason (DDG-87)
• COVID-19 attack on the USS Theodore Roosevelt

Answer: A lot. For example:

• All had been war gamed and were not totally unexpected
• All had been evaluated as “low risk” of occurrence
• Many were subject to political influence, both before and after
• Most resulted in some degree of immediate confusion and a muddled response by Navy and defense leaders
• Many resulted in a relief for cause or at least assigned culpability
• History (or the Navy) eventually exonerated the leader involved

My premise here is that the COVID-19 “attack” is simply the latest addition to this list. Let’s turn back the clock . . .

In early March the, Theodore Roosevelt pulled into a historic port visit in Vietnam, which, by the way, is in many ways the very definition of “mission first”—only the second port visit since the Vietnam War and one of the great national significance. Back home, there was a good deal of controversy about how seriously to take the COVID virus, some of it in a political context, and I know how the Navy works—the idea of cancelling such a high-visibility port visit would not play well. In a show of solidarity, many senior Navy leaders attended the ship’s arrival, including the ambassador, underlining the high-level support for the visit; as any current or former commanding officer (CO) knows, the decision to pull into such a port is made far up the leadership chain, not in the CO’s cabin. After a successful port visit, they also flew aircraft on and off the ship, which, in retrospect, appears to be another possible cause of the virus reaching the crew. In the end, how it got there is moot (except for cutting off the source) since it is, in fact, there.

When the first cases of coronavirus were detected among the crew, the problem probably seemed containable. Like this author, the CO probably had done the mathematical calculations of how viruses spread and had concerns. These have now been pretty much validated by official Navy studies showing that without strong mitigation measures, about 50 percent of the crew (or, 2,500 sailors) would be infected. According to the CDC, it is reasonable to expect about 15–20 percent of those would become ill, with about a 1 percent chance of death for those who become infected for this demographic. One also can see from the website (and from the Navy guidance) that the number of cases will increase exponentially over time based on normal virus behavior in a constrained environment. The graph below shows this curve—which probably represents what would have happened without the actions recommended by Captain Crozier (which the Navy eventually implemented):

Figure 1. Expected Infections for 5000-person crew over time (no preventive measures)

At this point, the ship was about 25 days removed from the port visit, where the science says that the number of cases is expected to double every few days, rising exponentially to its expected apex of 2,500 crew members. We also know that individuals can walk around for days or weeks without symptoms, and with few tests on board, there was no way to know who was infected and spreading the virus. I stare at my napkin where I have done these calculations, and imagine Captain Crozier looking at what he likely perceived to be an exponentially growing problem and a linear Navy solution. By my “RADCON Math” calculations (did I mention that, like the captain, I am a nuke?) on the back of a napkin, he was looking at about 300–500 sick and 5 or more deaths without intervention.

On 27 March, the ship pulled in to Guam and the plan to get sailors off the ship was in motion, but the lines on the napkin had started to diverge and the Captain had a decision to make, and even a day seemed likely to cost a few lives. Four days. That is the amount of time that Captain Brent Crozier wrestled with his conscience in his at-sea cabin, torn between loyalty to the crew that he led and his chain of command, trying to do the right thing for both. Hopefully an expanded investigation will reveal whether he communicated his concerns and recommendations to his chain of command over those four days—and their response. Admiral Arleigh Burke once said, “The difference between a good officer and a great one is about ten seconds.” At some point, Captain Crozier reached a tipping point, and in ten seconds he hit “send” on an e-mail that changed the Navy forever. Each of us will draw their own conclusions—I have, and regardless of the final outcome, generations of COs will look back with comfort on the Chief of Naval Operations’s (CNO’s) recent recommendation to reinstate Crozier. Regardless of your opinion on the firing of Captain Crozier, Admiral Gilday’s decision to recommend reinstatement reveals the character of another naval officer willing to stand on what he believes is right, even in the face of great career risk.

An eternity (or, one month in COVID-19 time) later, the model bears out. The graph below shows what the expected outcome was of mitigations being taken, and seems to be pretty much what happened in the end on the Theodore Roosevelt, as well as what is playing out on the USS Kidd (DDG-100), a Navy destroyer with a 300-person crew and an almost proportional number of COVID cases, but with a very different Navy response, in this author’s opinion, largely thanks to Captain Crozier’s actions and what has been learned since. As always, the enemy gets a vote, and in this case the virus does not follow politics or boundaries, it just marches on. The below graph shows the expected (and what has proven to be pretty close to the actual) results of the actions taken on both ships after intervention:

Figure 2. Curve for 5000-person crew with interventions (Source: Navy and Marine Corps Public Health Center).

I have no indication of the relationship or climate established by Captain Crozier’s chain of command. I have served on a strike group staff, and I know how communications normally work and have some ideas of why they would not, but I also understand that there are many dynamics and have no way to feel the pressures the uniformed leaders were under to execute the mission and accept risk. He did. Regardless of the outcome of the full investigation, now due on 27 May, these lessons will be shared and incorporated in both future coronavirus response and leadership forum. From what I have read about Captain Crozier (from his crew and peers), the least of his concerns is what becomes of him and his career; his focus is likely still on the welfare of his former crew—and on the sailor that he lost.

Just to put a fine point on the waterfront view of this story, the following post on a recent USNI Blog is an example of the thoughts of many of my own friends and colleagues who are in command now. To those in leadership positions, this is your constituency:

CAPT Crozier sent the request up his chain and it was not being acted on. He took the best action he could to protect his Sailors and in doing so, achieved the end state he sought. The Navy is wholly unprepared for responding to this pandemic and their actions show more bureaucratic actions than an actual call to action to protect Sailors. Their slow response in this case risked readiness more than the 2-week stand down that CAPT Crozier proposed. As a sitting CO I can tell you that the Navy is more concerned about stats and ensuring the right reports get sent up the chain than putting together thoughtful solutions to ensure our readiness as a force.

That was then—this is now. Each of the aforementioned events had an additional effect of turning the Navy against itself as it wrestled with the initial response; then the wagons circled and the Navy moved swiftly to counter the enemy. Perhaps there is room for some latitude for the fact that this was a “first-blood” situation from which leaders at all levels can learn. A recent post from a second ship (the Navy has ceased sharing details, but did share that at least 26 ships have been impacted), the Kidd’s executive officer (XO) shows how much things have changed in four weeks:

The Navy pulled out all the stops – Specialist doctors have already arrived from the United States to test and help care for our shipmates. Morale is high, and the crew is in good spirits. We did fly one sailor back to the U.S. and he has already been cleared to self-isolate. In the meantime, our number one priority remains the safety of our fantastic crew, and we have what we need onboard.

Conclusion: I remain convinced that, like the examples above, we have seen the opening volley of a very long war, against another “new” threat. Threats can emerge from anywhere at any time and commanders must be empowered to respond, or the very foundation of command will crack under our feet. Certainly, the dynamic changes a bit in today’s age of modern communications, especially when there is a flag officer embarked. However, if missiles are inbound or a mine is sighted in the water ahead, the captain would not turn to the embarked commander and ask permission to engage the target. Navy uniformed leaders seems to have come down on the side of the regulations and centuries of tradition—the commander’s right and obligation to defend his ship. The investigation continues, but the central question now is no longer how the captain shared his intention to exercise his fundamental right and obligation to defend his ship, but why he felt compelled to ask in the first place. Time will tell, and we continue to learn more about this unique threat each day, but I still have great faith in our institution, and thus I will close with more words from the the Kidd XO:

Your Sailors continue to represent all of you, and the United States Navy, flawlessly. I am humbled and inspired by them daily, and all of you should be very proud of their service.

They sure do, and I certainly am.