The Paul Truesdell Podcast
Kaiser's Coffins to Killer Swarms Truesdell Wealth [https://truesdellwealth.com/] * Events [https://truesdellwealth.com/events] * Truesdell Wealth Contact [https://truesdellwealth.com/contact] Truesdell Travel [https://truesdell.travel/] * The February 2027 Cruise [https://truesdell.travel/cruise] * Truesdell Travel Contact [https://truesdell.travel/contact] Paul Truesdell [https://paultruesdell.com/] * About [https://paultruesdell.com/about-4] * Blog [https://paultruesdell.com/blog] * Podcast [https://paultruesdell.com/podcast] https://paultruesdell.com/ Why Cheap, Expendable Drones—Not Billion-Dollar Platforms—Will Decide the Next Century of American Power Good morning, afternoon, or evening, this is Paul Truesdell and this is the Paul Truesdell Podcast. There is an old truth out in the high country, one that every scout and every hunter and every man who ever read the weather off a ridgeline comes to learn. The wind always tells you what is coming before the storm arrives. You only have to be quiet enough to listen, and honest enough to believe what you hear, even when the sky straight overhead is still blue. I want to talk to you about a storm that is gathering. Not to frighten you, because fear is a poor compass and a worse general. I want to talk about it so that we are ready. Because the United States is in the middle of the largest retooling of its military since the Second World War, and most good people have not yet felt the wind shift. Let me begin where every serious conversation about American power has to begin. With the sea. And with a man most of you have never heard of. His name was Henry J. Kaiser. Today, if his name rings any bell at all, it rings because of a hospital. Kaiser Permanente. But before he ever built a clinic, Henry Kaiser built ships, and he built them the way Henry Ford built automobiles. On an assembly line. In 1942, with the fleet still smoking at Pearl Harbor and our real carriers years away from the water, Kaiser walked into the United States Navy and made a promise that sounded like a tall tale. He said he could turn out aircraft carriers, not in years, but in weeks. Small ones. Cheap ones. Built from prefabricated parts by welders, many of them women, most of them folks who had never built a ship in their lives. The admirals told him no. They wanted gold-plated ships, the big beautiful fleet carriers, and they thought his little flattops were a joke. So Kaiser did what Americans with a good idea and no patience for a closed door have always done. He went over their heads. He took his case straight to President Roosevelt, and Roosevelt ordered the admirals to give him a contract for fifty. They called those ships jeep carriers. Baby flattops. The sailors who crewed them had a darker name. Kaiser's coffins, they called them, because they were small and thin-skinned and the men figured they would burn. Combustible, vulnerable, and expendable, that was the joke. And then those expendable little ships sailed into history. Off the island of Samar, in the Battle of Leyte Gulf, a handful of Henry Kaiser's jeep carriers and their escorts ran headlong into one of the most powerful surface fleets Japan ever put to sea. Including the Yamato, the largest battleship ever built by any nation on earth. By every rule of war those Americans should have been wiped from the ocean. Instead, they turned and fought, and they held, and the great Japanese fleet broke off and ran. Cheap ships. Plain men. American production and American grit. That is the whole story of this country in a single afternoon of fire. I tell you that story because we are standing exactly where Henry Kaiser stood in 1942. We are looking at a fight we hope never comes, and we are discovering that the arsenal we built for the last century will not win the next one. Now, you have heard, no doubt, that the military budget has gone up. Way up. And you have heard a certain breed of commentator howl about it. These are the popular economists, the online sages, the men who have built a following by sounding very sophisticated about China and warfare and the economy, and who somehow manage to miss the most obvious thing standing right in front of them. And they miss it for a simple reason. They are not really analysts. Many of them are simply men who decided years ago that they hate this President, and everything they say has to be bent to fit that hatred. When your only tool is a grudge, every fact starts to look like a nail. So let me tell you what they are missing. That budget did not balloon to waste your money. It ballooned to retool the entire fighting force of the United States. We are getting ready for a war. I will say it plainly. That war, if it comes, will most likely be with China. And the whole purpose of spending this money now is to make certain that war never has to be fought at all. Here is what the retooling is about. For most of modern history, the platform was the prize. The tank. The battleship. The fighter jet with a man strapped inside it. We sent our finest young men into the cockpit and into the gun turret, and when the enemy got lucky, we buried them. We cannot fight that way anymore. We will not fight that way anymore. Look at what a small, stubborn country did to a much larger one in Ukraine. A nation with almost no navy drove a real navy back into its own harbors. Not with battleships. With drones. Cheap, attritable machines, the kind you can afford to lose by the thousands, that cost less than a used pickup truck and can sink a vessel that cost a billion dollars to build. That is the lesson the whole world just learned, and China learned it too. A multi-billion-dollar warship can be killed by a twenty-thousand-dollar machine. Xxx That changes everything. So, think about how we used to fight, and how we are going to fight. In the Revolutionary War, men stood in a straight line out in the open, shoulder to shoulder, and took turns firing volleys into one another like targets at a county fair. We do not need that anymore. We do not need cannon fodder. What we need are the Green Mountain Boys. The men who knew the timber, who picked off the redcoats from the tree line, and then slipped away to live and fight another day. That is exactly what a drone is. That is what this entire revolution is about. The skill of the hunter in the woods, multiplied by the machine. Picture it the way the old Western stories would picture it. A wolf pack. There is the mother at the center, strong and patient, and around her move the young, fast and fearless, willing to take the wound so the pack survives. Now put that pack in the air, on the ground, under the sea, and out in space. A mothership at the center. A swarm around it. Machines willing to throw themselves at the enemy so that not one more American pilot has to. If you have seen the old space pictures, you have seen it already. The hero comes flying in, and all around him the smaller craft dart and weave and shield him with their lives. That is no longer a movie. That is a procurement plan. And this is where the Navy becomes more critical than ever, not less. Because the great weakness of the enemy is the same weakness it has always been. A fixed position. A base that sits on land cannot move. Its coordinates are written down somewhere, and once your enemy knows where you are, every missile he owns is already pointed at you. A land base is a sitting duck. But a fleet moves. An armada moves. An aircraft carrier is a piece of sovereign American soil that does not stay put long enough to be hit. That is why the big carriers still matter. And it is why we have to retool t...
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