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Vince
Vice Admiral
Posts: 1574
Joined: Fri Apr 09, 2010 11:43 pm
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MAD-4A wrote:Spacekiwi wrote:Hell, my brothers going through elec tech training, and his basic training was 5 months, and then this branch training will be a year. add in the gaps between basic training and his branch training, to allow for shipboard training (4 weeks or so for him), and you come pretty close to 2 years. And he comes out of the training the lowest et level you can be.
Yes, that's specialist electronic training. That is not required for the guy in-charge of cleaning the grease out of the Galley vent fans, or keeping the brass in the flag-crapper shiny. As I explained before: the difference in manpower between these ships and Manty “automated” SD’s is “warm bodies” not electronic techs, those jobs would be the same for ANY SD. It’s the little crap jobs that get automated or reduced threw multi-tasking, and those jobs don’t require a doctorate in hyper-physics, they just require a “warm-body” & yes anyone working in a manufacturing facility would have the basic knowledge needed to serve in one of these capacities. The ships have tech manuals. They would not design ships so that EVERYONE onboard has to have a PHD to operate the thing. MOST systems can be figured out by anyone with the basic knowledge & a manual, that’s what they're for! Most of those “warm-body” positions will not need ANY special training, especially if they transfer some of their experienced people to senior positions. A good gunner PO on one of the light cruisers, for example, “retires” & “disappears”, to become a Senior Chief gunner on one of the SDs, or if he’s really good, given a Warrant Commission and made Gunnery Officer. Once some of the newbies get familiar with the assigned systems, they can be transferred to other ships and repeat… kzt wrote:There is a big difference between normal peacetime training and wartime training. I remember poking through the training book in basic one night on CQ and there were major sections that were dropped or massively abbreviated for wartime mobilization training. It went from 8 weeks to 6 weeks IIRC.
The US navy didn't grow is size by 1000% between 1941 and 1943 by sending everyone through 3 years of training before they reached the fleet.
saber964 wrote:During WWII a noteworthy percentage learned thier jobs on the job. Jobs like Gunners Mate, Boatswain Mate, Quartermaster, Signalman, Enginemen, Electricians Mate Store Keeper, and Stewards Mate
Exactly!!!! The higher tech levels are countered by the higher basic learning the average person needs just to function. In WWII someone working in a warehouse didn’t need to know a thing about “those weird electrical thingies with all the flashing lights”, now you can’t function in a warehouse without, at-least, basic computer knowledge. The same there, yes they have 2000 yrs more advanced tech, but the basic citizen needs 2000 yrs more advanced training to do his job (as the books stated even most Slaves can't function without technical training - except Pleasure or hunted types). That translates to their shipboard position. Also as I explained, Maya doesn’t need them to be fully operational next week, just available in the near future. There is no Maya Space Navy yet – only a small squadron of the FF in the Maya sector which has been undermined by the Governor. & no Basic training is always done before you set foot on a ship, they want to know you're not going to be one of those panicky/cowardly types alluded to earlier.
Let's look at what an Honorverse newbie crew in general and a Manticoran ET/1c in particular on their very first cruise were (and were not) capable of doing in the Darwinian crucible of combat (a Manticoran combat simulation--both with more experienced personnel as the Opforce and designed to be harder than real combat). This was aboard HMS Wayfarer, which had a crew (including the Marine complement) of 3,000 personnel, a result of not nearly as much automation as the later SDP classes, with many more 'warm bodies'. Honor Among Enemies, First Half of Chapter 10 wrote:"They're coming around again!" Lieutenant Commander Hughes snapped as a fresh salvo of missiles ripped down on Gudrid. "Get those gravitics back now!"
ET/1c Wanderman felt sweat dripping down his face as he crouched over his diagnostic probe and the harsh flow of combat chatter washed over him as the surviving LAC skippers maneuvered hard to intercept the raiders' latest pounce. The attack had come as a complete surprise, and it was obvious they were up against an entire squadron of privateers, not run-of-the-mill pirates. Hughes' tac team's first warning had been the missile salvo which blew one of their escorting destroyers to splinters, and then the enemy had come charging down his missiles' wake.
"I know they're out there," Lieutenant Wolcott, Wayfarer's assistant tac officer, snarled, and Aubrey felt a stab of inadequacy. Whoever these people were, they had excellent electronic warfare systems of their own, and that EW was playing merry hell with Wayfarer's active sensors. They also had at least one heavy missile platform, which was engaging the convoy escorts from beyond Wolcott's active detection envelope. Sensor range was always degraded in hyper-space, and Wolcott needed her gravitics to pick her enemies' impeller signatures out of the background hash of charged particles, jamming, and the EMP of detonating laser heads. But the entire gravitational detection system was down, and he couldn't get it back.
"We've lost Thomas!" someone announced, and this time Hughes swore out loud. Three raiders were already dead, but that was the fourth LAC the enemy had picked off, and Captain MacGuire's Gudrid had taken a beating, as well.
"Targeting change! Stand by port!" the tac officer snapped, punching keys at her console, and Wayfarer's massive energy batteries quested hungrily as someone finally entered their range.
"Breakdown on Graser Five!" someone barked, and Aubrey heard terminal keys rattle. "Damn, damn, damn! It's operator failure!"
"Crap!" Hughes bent over her terminal. Wayfarer's people were still too raw, and it was showing. She input a query and spat a silent curse. "Override Five! Try to slave it to central!"
"Slaving," the first voice announced. "Coming in—now! Back on-line in central control!"
"Tracking!" Hughes' chief yeoman said. "Tracking . . . tracking . . . lock!"
"Fire!"
Eight grasers, each as heavy as any ship of the wall might mount, fired as one, blazing away through the "gun ports" in Wayfarer's sidewall, and a battlecruiser-sized raider vanished in the brilliant flash of a failing fusion bottle.
"That's one!" someone snarled.
"Yeah, but now they know what we're armed with," someone else said grimly.
"Permission to deploy pods?" Wolcott called, but Hughes shook her head violently.
"Negative. We still haven't found their missile platforms."
Wolcott nodded unhappily. Gudrid had lost her after cargo doors to a freak hit early in the attack, crippling her missile pod system. That meant Wayfarer had the only heavy missile capacity left to Hughes, but if she revealed it against the targets she could see, the ones she couldn't see would concentrate all their fire on her. Given Wayfarer's fragility, that would be disastrous, and Aubrey swore under his breath as the panel of his diagnostic flickered. Numbers and schematics cascaded across it as it interrogated the gravitic system's software and test programs examined the hardware. He needed Ginger and her instinct for troubleshooting, but Ginger was a casualty down in Gravitic One, and—
A red light flashed, and his display froze. His eyes darted across the schematic, and he swore again. The hit which had destroyed Gravitic One had spiked the main array. The fail-safes had protected the array itself, but the spike had bled back through the data transmission chain and burned out the primary data coupling from Gravitic Two. Fixing the problem was going to require complete replacement, and that would take hours.
"There goes Linnet!" a plotting rating announced as the convoy's last regular escort blew apart.
"They're coming in on us now, Ma'am!" Wolcott said suddenly. "Bogies Seven and Eight coming up from astern and low, two-four-zero by two-three-six." Her voice was already taut; now it went even harsher as she completed her report. "Thirteen and Fourteen are swinging in from starboard and high, too, Ma'am. One-one-niner by zero-three-three. Looks like they're trying to overtake and cross our T!"
"Show me!" Hughes snapped, and Wolcott dumped her data onto the main tactical plot. The lieutenant commander studied the icons for an instant, then nodded. "Roll port and come to three-three-zero, same plane!"
"Rolling port, coming to three-three-zero, same plane, aye," Chief O'Halley acknowledged, and Wayfarer began a ponderous swerve.
"John and Andrew just nailed Bogie Nine," Hughes' yeoman reported, but the tac officer said nothing. Her eyes were glued to her display as the lumbering converted merchantman rolled up on her port side, presenting her belly to the threat from starboard, and turned back across the convoy's track. The maneuver brought her port side down toward the two cruiser-range raiders coming in from "below" her, and Hughes' fingers flew over her panel.
"Radar lock on Bogies Seven and Eight," her yeoman announced.
"Fire as you bear," Hughes replied grimly.
"There goes Gudrid," someone groaned. "She's breaking up!"
"Carol, find me those missile ships!" Hughes said, and Aubrey closed his eyes while his mind raced.
The raiders had caught the convoy at its most vulnerable moment, as it transited between grav waves in the depths of hyper-space. The two waves were over a half-light-day apart at this, their closest approach. At the convoy's best h-space speed it would take thirty hours to make the transition, and by catching the convoy here, the raiders had been able to come in under impellers. They'd not only intercepted when the merchantmen were slowest and least maneuverable but done so under conditions which let them use their own sidewalls and missiles. Worse, no one had spotted them because of the poor sensor conditions and their unexpectedly good EW until their opening salvos had savaged both destroyers and crippled Gudrid's pods. The fact that they weren't currently in a grav wave had at least let Hughes get her LACs away, and their unanticipated appearance—and power—had given the enemy pause, but it hadn't driven them off. Apparently they'd decided anything this heavily defended had to be worth capturing, and despite their own losses, they were still driving in hard. Without their missile support, Wayfarer and her remaining LACs could still take all of them, but doing anything about their missile platforms required the ability to at least see them, and with the coupling down, how the hell did Aubrey—
Wait! His eyes popped open, and he punched a query into his probe, then grinned fiercely. It was completely against The Book, and it would be cumbersome as hell, but if he took down Radar Six and routed the input from Grav Two through Six's systems to Auxiliary Radar at Junction Three-Sixty-One, then ran a hardwired shunt from AuxRad—
"Port battery firing—now!" Hughes' yeoman snapped, and fresh energy howled from Wayfarer's grasers as they came to bear. Two more raiders blew up, but one of them lasted long enough to fire back. Her weaker lasers blew right through the Q-ship's underpowered sidewall and nonexistent armor to rip Graser Three, Graser Five, and Missile Seven and Nine apart, with near total casualties on both energy mounts.
Aubrey's fingers flew, setting up the required commands. He was working as much by feel as training, for no one had ever tried anything like this before, so far as he knew, but there wasn't time to work it all out properly. His execution files were quick and dirty, but they ought to do the trick, and he dropped his control box and ripped open his tool kit.
"Keep an eye on those suckers to starboard," Hughes ordered.
"Enemy missile fire shifting to us from Gudrid," Lieutenant Jansen reported from Missile Defense.
"Do your best," Hughes said grimly, and Aubrey hurled himself under the radar display, burrowing into the limited space so quickly Jansen didn't have time to get out of the way. The lieutenant gave a chopped off, surprised cry, then snatched his feet out of Aubrey's path, and the tech ripped the front off the main panel. He forced himself to take a moment, making sure of his identification, then clamped the heavy alligator clips to the input terminals. He rolled onto his back, sat up, grabbed the edge of the console, and sent himself slithering across the decksole on the seat of his trousers, then rolled under Wolcott's panel.
Unlike Jansen, the assistant tac officer had seen him coming, and she turned her chair sideways to give him room to work even as she continued driving her sensors.
"Paul reports loss of her wedge, and Galactic Traveler's taken two hits in her after impeller ring. Her accel's dropping."
"Put us on a least-time for Traveler, Helm!" Hughes snapped. "Starboard batteries, stand by. Eleven and Thirteen are pulling ahead of us!"
"Incoming birds in acquisition!" Jansen sang out, then swore as Aubrey reached out, clamped his cable to the terminals under Wolcott's console, and brought his improvised software on-line. "We've lost Radar Six! Going to emergency override Baker-Three!"
"Gravitics up!" Wolcott shouted in sudden triumph. "Enemy missile platforms bear zero-one-niner two-zero-three, range one-point-five million klicks! Designate them Bogies Fourteen and Fifteen! They look like a couple of converted freighters, Ma'am!"
"Got 'em!" Hughes barked back. "Stand by to roll pods!"
"Programming fire control," Wolcott replied. A handful of seconds ticked past, and then. "Solution accepted and locked! Pods ready!"
"Roll them!" Hughes snapped, and six missile pods spilled from Wayfarer's stern. Their sudden appearance took the raiders by surprise, and no one even tried to fire on them before attitude thrusters kicked them to the right bearing and they launched. Sixty missiles, far heavier than anything the raiders had, shrieked towards their targets, and Aubrey rolled up on his knees, panting, to watch their tracks cross the main plot. The laser heads reached attack range and detonated, and scores of x-ray lasers ripped at the missile ships. Their defenses were even weaker than Wayfarer's; they never had a chance, and both of them blew apart under the terrible pounding.
"All right!" someone screamed.
"Watch starboard!" Hughes barked. The two raiders still sweeping up and around Wayfarer's starboard bow could still have killed them, but the privateers had already lost half their squadron, and the sudden revelation of Wayfarer's missile power, coupled with the loss of their own missile platforms, took the heart out of them. They broke off, accelerating hard and rolling to cover themselves with their own wedges, and Hughes' lips drew back to bare her teeth. "Keep rolling pods, Carol! I want those bastards!"
"Aye, Ma'am. New solution locked. Launching now."
A fresh stream of pods rolled from Wayfarer's after cargo doors. The fleeing raiders were much harder targets than the missile ships, but not hard enough to resist that sort of fire. It took only five more salvos to kill them both, and Hughes sat back with a sigh as the raiders on the far side of the convoy's track also spun away and fled madly.
Aubrey sank down to sit on his heels and dragged a forearm across his sweaty forehead as the displays suddenly blanked. Then they came up again, this time showing the untouched ships of the convoy still plowing serenely along down grav wave MSY-002-91, and Hughes ran a hand through her own hair before she turned to her tactical crew.
"Not too shabby, people," she said as the tone announcing the simulation's end sounded. "We were late picking them up, but once the shooting actually started you did good."
"Indeed they did," a soprano voice said, and Aubrey scrambled to his feet with a start. Captain Harrington stood in the open hatch between Alpha Simulator and Beta, where Commander Cardones had been running the "raiders." Her treecat was cradled in her arms while she rubbed his ears, and Aubrey had no idea how long she'd been standing there. From the look on Lieutenant Commander Hughes' face, he wasn't the only one who wondered.
Everyone else rose as the Captain stepped into the compartment, but she shook her head.
"As you were, people. You've earned a chance to sit down."
Smiles of pleasure greeted her compliment, and she walked across to Hughes' panel and tapped in a command. The moment at which the missile platforms had suddenly appeared on the plot replayed itself and froze, and she nodded.
"I thought Rafe had you with that hit on Grav One, Guns," she observed.
"Yes, Ma'am. So did I," Hughes agreed feelingly, and Lady Harrington chuckled.
"Well, if he couldn't get you, I guess the bad guys are going to have a few problems, too, aren't they?" she said, and her 'cat bleeked a soft laugh of agreement.
"He would've had us without Carol," Hughes replied, but Wolcott shook her head.
"Not me, Skipper," she told the Captain. "It was Wanderman." She nodded her chestnut-haired head at Aubrey and grinned. "I don't know what he did, but it certainly worked!"
"So I noticed," Lady Harrington murmured, and turned her own attention to Aubrey. The electronics tech felt his face go crimson, but he came to attention and met her gaze as steadily as he could. "What did you do?" she asked curiously.
"I, uh, I rerouted the data, Ma'am—I mean, Milady," Aubrey said, flushing darker than ever as he corrected himself, but she only shook her head gently.
"'Ma'am' is fine. Where'd you reroute to?"
"Uh, well, the array itself was still up, Ma'am. It was only the coupling. But the data from all the arrays runs through Junction Three-Sixty One. It's a preprocessing node, and the blown sector was downstream." He swallowed. "So I, uh, I overrode the main computers to reprogram the data buses and dumped it through Radar Six."
"So that's what happened," Lieutenant Jansen said. "You know you cut half my starboard point defense radar out of the circuit when you did it?"
"I—" Aubrey looked at the missile defense officer, then swallowed again, harder. "I didn't think about that, Sir. It was just, well, it was the only thing I could think of, and—"
"And there wasn't time to discuss it," Lady Harrington finished for him. "Well done, Wanderman. Very well done. That was quick thinking—and it showed initiative, too." She studied Aubrey thoughtfully, and her 'cat turned his head to bend his own green eyes upon the electronics tech. "I don't believe I ever saw that particular trick pulled before."
"That's because it shouldn't work," Hughes pointed out. She punched up something on her own terminal and studied it for a moment, then whistled. "There is a cross-link at Three-Sixty-One, but I still don't see how he forced data compatibility. For that matter, he had to convince battle comp to bring three independent buses into it."
She shook her head in disbelief, and all eyes turned to Aubrey, who wished he could sink through the decksole. But the Captain only smiled and cocked an eyebrow at him.
"Where'd you get the software for it?" she asked, and Aubrey shrugged uncomfortably.
"I, uh, sort of made it up as I went along . . . Ma'am," he admitted, and she laughed.
"You made it up as you went along?" She looked back at Hughes with a twinkle. "We still have a few problems on the weapons decks, but you seem to have quite a team here, Ms. Hughes. My compliments to all of you."
Aubrey could actually feel the pleasure which filled the simulator, and the Captain lifted her 'cat to her right shoulder. She turned for the main hatch, then paused and looked back.
"I'll want to review the chips with you and the Exec this evening, Ms. Hughes. Can you and Ms. Wolcott join us for supper?"
"Of course, Milady."
"Good. And be sure you bring along a copy of Wanderman's improvisation. Let's see if we can't clean it up a bit and store it permanently just in case we need it again."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Made it up as you went along," Lady Harrington repeated softly, smiling at Aubrey, then shook her head, chuckled, and walked out of the simulator.[/b]
Italics are the author's, boldface and underlined text is my emphasis. We see an inexperienced (first cruise for most) crew make mistakes (enter the wrong keystrokes, or push the wrong button) with computerized systems resulting in a graser going off-line until it could be brought back on-line by slaving it to to central control, even if the crew has basic computer skills before entering military service and receiving basic and advanced military school training. We also see an inexperienced (first cruise, right out of military school advanced training) ET/1c Aubrey Wandderman diagnose, troubleshoot and jury-rig a solution to a problem in the middle of combat that would have resulted in the complete loss of the Q-ships, their LACs, and the convoy they were escorting. Let's look at his jury-rigged solution, after he first determined what the problem was: ET/1c Wanderman was able to design, build (while skiping the prototype stage) and install hardware using new cables and the existing in-place, currently operating, computer hardware components (radar system) that would be able take the place of the existing hardware to reroute the information the gravitic sensors were reporting to the blown coupling and instead bypass it to get the information to the computer console where it needed to get to. ET/1c Wanderman created software algorithms and wrote the computer code that enabled his new hardware to reroute the information from the gravitic sensors around the blown coupling by sending it through the radar system to get it to the computer console where it needed to get to. ET/1c Wanderman did all this jury-rigging in an extremely short time, in the middle of combat. His solution wasn't perfect--it "cut out half of the starboard point defense radar out of the circuit when" he "did it"-- but it got the job done and saved the remaining escort(s) and the merchant convoy. If the simulation had been a real attack, he probably would have gotten a medal for saving the convoy and what remained of the escorts. You could write the citation from what I've written above if you dressed up the language. For an imperfect modern day analogy, while backstage at a loud rock concert and having a killer holding a gun pointed at him who was going to pull the trigger and with no chance to dodge bullets, he designed, built--skipping the prototype stage--and installed his hardware into a powered-on, in-use, personal computer that had a blown chip in the microphone audio system. He created the algorithms and wrote all the code (including translating incompatible file formats or data streams) for one (or more) low-level software device driver(s) that enabled his hardware to work, bypassing the blown chip by plugging the microphone into an in-use video card--cutting the frame-rate in half in the process--and then sending the audio input accross the PCI Express bus using Direct Memory Access (DMA) to the sound card and then to the speakers where the audio needed to go. And it all worked on the first try, letting the police know where the bad guy was and take him out, with just the video frame rate of the PC dropping in half. -------------------------------------------------------------
History does not repeat itself so much as it echoes.
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