New Horizons - 2008

1 From the Executive Editor

3 A Tribute to Charles F. Brower, IV, Ph.D., Brigadier General,US Army (Retired)

Humanities

7 Coincidence or Chemistry: The Effects of Civil War Combaton Weather

Cadet Brandon T. Carter (History, ’08)Faculty Mentor: Dr. A. Cash Koeniger, Professor of History

21 No More Quetta Manners: The Social Evolution of the Royal WelchFusiliers on the Western Front

Cadet Gregory E. Lippiatt (History and English, ’09)Faculty Mentor: Dr. Eric W. Osborne, Assistant Professor of History

35 The United States and Pakistan: Allies or Adversaries?Cadet Andrew E. Timpner (History, ’07)Faculty Mentor: Dr. Jason A. Kirk, Assistant Professor of International Studies and

Political Science

Sciences

49 The Effects of Aromatase Inhibitor 4-hydroxyAndrostenedione andEstrogen Replacement Therapy on the Development ofSensory-Motor Functions in the Zebrafish

Cadet Bryan P. Nelson (Biology, ’07)Faculty Mentor: Dr. James E. Turner, Professor of Biology and Chemistry

New Horizons

VMI Journal of Undergraduate Research

Volume 2 Number 1 April 2008

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Engineering

63 Emergency Underground Communication Using Seismic WavesCadet George W. Flathers III (Electrical and Computer Engineering, ’08) and

Cadet Jared E. Starin (Electrical and Computer Engineering,’10)Faculty Mentor: Dr. James C. Squire, Associate Professor of Electrical and Computer

Engineering

71 Thermoacoustic Cooling Stack Prototyping and DesignCadet Paul A. Childrey (Mechanical Engineering,’08)Faculty Mentor: Dr. Jon Michael Hardin, Associate Professor of Mechanical

Engineering

79 Modeling Combustion and Flow in the SR-30 Turbojet EngineCadet Matthew A. Kania (Mechanical Engineering,’07) and Cadet Raevon M.

Pulliam, (Mechanical Engineering,’07)Faculty Mentor: Dr. Matthew R. Hyre, Associate Professor of Mechanical Engineering

85 About the Contributing Editors

87 Undergraduate Research at VMI

From the Executive Editor

For the New Horizons Editorial Board, the pastyear has been a hectic albeit gratifying one,

launched by the positive reception of Volume 1 ofthe journal last April and energized by theongoing scholarly success of its cadet authors.Striving to replicate both in this second issue ofour journal, we are proud to present the studiesand artwork of eight cadets representing fivedepartments and all three academic divisions ofthe Virginia Military Institute.

The cadet writers and artist whose workappears in New Horizons have risen to thechallenge of academic writing and artistic creationfor publication—meeting countless deadlines andsubjecting their work to the scrutiny of severalscholar/reviewers. For many of them, NewHorizons will be the first academic journal theyhave actually seen cover-to-cover in its originalform, yet it will stand as public recognition of theirundergraduate scholarship and creativity long aftertheir cadetships have ended.

The scholarly development of cadets throughNew Horizons, however, is not limited to theprinted and electronic pages of the journal or theindividual cadet researchers/artists whose work ispublished in our two editions. With our newestinitiative, the “Beyond Publication Phase,” we areendeavoring to extend the influence of thepublication into the classroom and across the VMIcurriculum. Although we foresee different types ofpedagogical models for the “Beyond PublicationPhase” in the future, our current prototypeconsists of three elements: a poster presentationof the submission/review/publication/beyondpublication process for New Horizons, a list ofcurricular suggestions for using the publishedessays as learning activities, and a videoproduction. The Office of the VMI UndergraduateResearch Initiative serves as the central repositoryfor these materials, where faculty members cancheck them out as needed.

Following a brief description of the journal’scontents, the New Horizons DVD highlightstestimonies from the cadet authors, specifically thecareer and graduate school opportunities thathave directly resulted from the publication of theirwork, as well as their assessment of the overallexperience of scholarly inquiry and academicwriting for publication. The first showing during

the VMI Summer Undergraduate ResearchInstitute (SURI) rendered positive feedback fromcadets contemplating submission to NewHorizons as a long-term goal for the presentationof their research results.

We also include excerpts from cadettestimonies in our poster presentation “NewHorizons: VMI Journal of UndergraduateResearch. Process to Product and Beyond,” whichillustrates the multiple phases of writing forpublication in our journal. Complete with copies ofreviewers’ comments, marked-up galleys, bluelines,and final versions, the poster presentation serves asa visual reminder that scholarly publication is, asNew Horizons author Casey Grey (MechanicalEngineering, ‘07) pointed out: “ . . . not just aglorified lab report.”

The cross-curricular suggestions for using NewHorizons in the classroom constitute the final partof our “Beyond Publication” prototype. In both aneffort to cross traditional disciplinary boundariesand in the spirit of VMI’s new Core Curriculum,our cross-curricular suggestions include severalinterdisciplinary learning activities for each essayin the print edition of the journal. Other activitiesbuild on the military ethos at VMI and cognitiveskills such as the development of informationliteracy.

Of course, there could exist no “BeyondPublication” or publication were it not for cadetresearchers, their mentors, and all the VMI facultyand staff who have supported the journal withtheir insight and expertise. We are indebted to ourfellow faculty members across the VMI Post whoserved as both mentors and readers to the cadet/authors, especially to Dr. James Turner, Directorof the VMI Undergraduate Research Initiative. Oursincerest thanks go to our colleagues at RoanokeCollege and Washington & Lee University whograciously served as contributing editors for thissecond volume of New Horizons.

Lastly, I extend my deepest gratitude to theNew Horizons associate editors Alexis Hart,Robert Humston, and Bob McMasters, whosededication to the journal and uncompromisingcommitment to excellence never cease to inspireme. I am honored to serve with them.

Mary Ann DellingerExecutive Editor, New Horizons

New Horizons is published annually through the VMI Undergraduate Research Initiative. For information, contact:[email protected] or Ms. Leslie Joyce, Undergraduate Research, 309 Science Building, VMI, Lexington, VA 24450.

New Horizons � Volume 2 � Number 1 � 2008

1

A Tribute toCharles F. Brower, IV, Ph.D.

Brigadier General,US Army (Retired)

Dean of VMI Faculty(2001–2008)

On October 31, 2007 as ROTC instructorsdrilled cadets on military procedures, football

players dressed out for practice, and the VMIacademic faculty gathered up the last of theirpapers to hurry home to trick and treaters alreadyknocking at their doors, Outlook inboxes chimedacross the VMI Post, popping up a new messagefrom our dean: “Re: Announcement.” The emailannounced that our dean, BG Casey Brower, wasresigning his position effective July 1st, 2008.

The mantra “deans come and go” serves aslittle comfort as we look back on the past sevenyears under Dean Brower’s leadership. Dawn wasbreaking on VMI’s academic renaissance when heassumed his position of Dean of Faculty in 2001.US News & World Report had rated the Instituteas the top undergraduate public liberal artscollege, a title VMI would hold for six consecutiveyears thereafter. He came to the Institute withboth a vision and a mission, but he imposed neitheron his faculty. Instead, he invited the faculty’sparticipation, sought their contributions, andearned their support towards the strengtheningand enrichment of VMI’s academic program.

Fueled by the reinvigoration of senior facultymembers and especially the incorporation ofyoung, energetic, junior professor/scholars withinour ranks, a surge of intellectual activity quicklyensued, manifesting itself across the curriculumand beyond through new academic programsinitiated under his directive including the InstituteWriting Program, the Institute Honors Program,and the VMI Undergraduate Research Initiative.As a result of these initiatives, VMI cadets havesecured patents for their inventions, presentedtheir research findings at international professionalconferences, co-authored published studies inscholarly journals, and garnered Rhodes (2003),Goldwater (2007), and Marshall (2008) scholarships,among others.

Without a doubt, Dean Brower’s quest toexpand the sphere of academic engagement forcadets and his efforts to enhance the profile ofthe Institute intersect in his commitment toundergraduate research at VMI. Undeterred by theinherent challenges of funding the ambitiousendeavor proposed by Dr. Jim Turner, founderand director of the Undergraduate ResearchInitiative (URI), Dean Brower’s championing ofthe program proved instrumental in rallying thecollective enthusiasm of cadets, faculty, alumni,and the VMI Board of Visitors. Three years afterthe URI’s inception, and together withWashington & Lee University, VMI co-hosted the2005 National Conference of UndergraduateResearch (NCUR) in Lexington. Just a fewmonths later, with the ink barely dry on theNCUR final report, Dean Brower would give thedirective for a new journal dedicated solely tocadet research, the publication that came to beNew Horizons.

The proverbial silver-lining in the end of theBrower deanship can be found in his return toteaching—what BG Brower defines as his “truepassion.” With his increased presence in the VMIclassroom, as Ensign Andrew Timpner (History’07) so exquisitely states: “More cadets will havethe advantage of the Brower experience.” In themeantime, we thank him for his spiritedleadership, his commitment to the Institute andthe Corps of Cadets, but most of all for hisdedication to the VMI academic program, thelegacy that will always define his deanship. Wewelcome him back to the front lines, where weknow he will continue to inspire us as ourcolleague as he has as our dean.

The Editorial BoardNew Horizons:

VMI Journal of Undergraduate Research


3

Coincidence or Chemistry:The Effects of Civil War Combat

on Weather

Cadet Brandon T. Carter

Faculty Mentor: Dr. A. Cash Koeniger, Department of History

ABSTRACTWriters, beginning with Civil War combatants themselves, have often noted a link betweenCivil War combat and weather, but only one truly analytical study has been done on thetopic in 140 years. The previous study attributed the cause of post-combat rain to thephysical effects of cannonading. This new work postulates a chemical reaction initiated bycombusting gunpowder as the explanation for post-combat precipitation. Rain followedmany of the major battles of the Civil War and often had huge implications for both armies.Saltpeter, or potassium nitrate, is one of the main components of gunpowder. Since it is anoxidizer, there is a great possibility that upon combustion it can speed up the production oflarge droplets within clouds. This would cause clouds to rain well before they would havewithout the intervention of some form of weather modification.

July 1, 1862, dawned hot and humid inthe fields east of Richmond, Virginia.

Over the course of one week, ConfederateGeneral Robert E. Lee, in his first campaignas commander of the Army of NorthernVirginia, had pressed General George B.McClellan’s Union army from the outskirts ofRichmond almost to Harrison’s Landing,nearly twenty miles down the James. Onlysix days earlier, Union troops could set theirwatches by the bells of Richmond’s churches.Now they were in full retreat, or conductinga “change of base” as McClellan called it.The 1st of July would be the last day offighting in what came to be known as theSeven Days Battles.

The Union position on Malvern Hill was

arguably the strongest that McClellan everheld. His engineers set up just under fortycannons across the crest of the hill, alongwith two divisions of infantry. Both flankswere protected by reserves. Gunboatsprovided additional artillery support from theJames. Nearly 80,000 Union troopsoccupied Malvern Hill. The battle, whichlasted until nightfall, cost each side dearly.Over 1,000 men were killed outright. TheConfederates had lost 5,650 men killed,wounded, or captured in their fruitlessattacks. The Union army had lost 3,007troops (Sears, Gates of Richmond 335).The day had been a clear-cut Union victory.The scene after the battle was gruesome.General D.H. Hill famously remarked, “It


7

was not war – it was murder.” One Unionofficer still on the field early on the morningof July 2 said of the Confederate casualtiesthat “enough were alive and moving to givethe field a singular crawling effect” (qtd. inSears, Gates of Richmond 337).

Throughout the day on July 1, through theebb and tide of the Confederate waves ofattack, one thing was constant: Unionartillery fire. Malvern Hill was unusualbecause it was one of the few battles of theentire Civil War in which at least half, if notmore, of an army’s casualties were inflicteddue to artillery. Yet early on the morning ofJuly 2, something much less unusualhappened—something that had first occurredafter the war’s first significant land battle atBig Bethel, Virginia, on June 10, 1861. Itwas a natural phenomenon that soldiers tookas a bittersweet occurrence. It was raining.

Lt. Col. William Ogden McDonald, asurgeon in General Graham’s brigade of theUnion IV Corps, was understandably tiredafter Malvern Hill. He fell asleep by one ofthe roads that the Union army would betaking to its new base on the James River.He was awakened early the next morning bythe noise of the retreating army. He joinedhis brigade on their march to Harrison’sLanding on the James. Soon after, the rainbegan. It came in torrents. Lt. Col.McDonald noticed what seemed to be a linkbetween the battle and rain. He observed,“And as was usually the case after a bigbattle it began to rain” (McDonald). He thenspoke of the quickly deteriorating conditionsof the march: “We marched along for a fewmiles thro [sic] the mud and rain”(McDonald). The Union march to the Jameswould be miserable, but the rain that made itso was at the same time cleansing the bloodof the dead and dying still on the hill fromthe sandy Virginia soil.

Civil War soldiers frequently madeobservations like McDonald’s in letters anddiaries, and later in memoirs and regimentalhistories. However, since the close of theCivil War, only one attempt at acomprehensive, analytical study of the effectsof combat on weather has been undertaken.

First published in 1871 and issued again in arevised edition in 1890, Edward Powers’sWar and the Weather contains letters onthe subject from forty-two men whowitnessed the war firsthand, as well as hisand various soldiers’ theories as to whyprecipitation so often followed battles. Theseletters are invaluable not only for determiningwhat kind of weather followed battles butalso for the explanations that their writersoffered to explain this phenomenon. Forsome, like General McClellan during hisretreat to the James, it was an unpleasantnuisance. For others, like Joshua L.Chamberlain of Maine, it brought somerelief. Chamberlain was wounded a numberof times during the war and was left to lie forperiods of time following battles until helparrived. He wrote to Powers that “these rainsare balm to the fever and anguish of thepoor body that is promoted to the ranks of‘casualties’” (Powers 152). While it is notsurprising that precipitation played asignificant part in shaping the conduct of theCivil War, what is remarkable is that CivilWar soldiers played a significant part in,quite literally, triggering the precipitation.During the Civil War it rained with greaterfrequency—after battles from Pennsylvania toFlorida, from Virginia to Louisiana—than canbe attributed to random chance. Rain waseven mixed with snow after some fights. Yetdespite these remarkable correlations, thesubject of war and weather has been all butignored by scholars since Powers, and hisbook all but forgotten. By collecting datafrom diaries, journals, memoirs, studies ofspecific battles, and ships’ logs, this paperbuilds upon Powers’s and others’ observationsto solidify the theory that the battles and theweather were closely related.

CIVIL WAR BATTLES ANDPOST-COMBAT RAIN

Precipitation followed battles in all theatersof the Civil War and at all times of the year.Appendix A documents each Civil War battlethat was followed by precipitation (within twodays after the end of the fighting). The

8 New Horizons / April 2008

pattern of combat leading to rain began withthe first land battle of the war in June of1861, and the last occurrence took placeless than two weeks before the end ofhostilities. In a few cases (identified on thechart contained in Appendix A), battles werefought during rain storms. For the most part,however, rain followed very agreeable weatherduring combat. Civil War commanderspreferred dry conditions for maneuver andfighting. Wet weather impaired the reliabilityof black powder, and movement of largearmies over dirt roads or ground turned tomud created quagmires with whichhorse-drawn artillery and wagons couldscarcely deal.

As already noted, rain followed the war’sfirst battle (the minor fight at Big Bethel,Virginia); yet the first major battle of the warappears to have had an even greater effecton the weather. The First Battle of Manassasor Bull Run was fought in Northern Virginiaon July 21, 1861. The day dawned hot andclear, and a pitiless sun would both illuminateand exacerbate man’s inhumanity to manuntil firing ceased late in the afternoon. Thebattle, which resulted in Confederate victory,cost America nearly 5,000 casualties.Afterward the Union army resorted to whatcame to be known as the “Great Skedaddle,”as Federal soldiers almost literally ran thetwenty-five miles back to Washington. BothStonewall Jackson and President JeffersonDavis recognized the opportunity presentedby this Union retreat and hoped to pursuethe demoralized enemy. The Confederateswere exhausted and disorganized from theday’s fighting, however, and few troopsactually followed the Union army that night.The next morning, Confederate officersawoke to a heavy rain which would continuethroughout the day. Any hope of pressingthe defeated enemy was ended (Davis 244–45). After the war, some Confederatesbelieved that this was one of the bestopportunities the South had had to crush theUnion army and win independence (Alexander110). Therefore, on the close of July 22,1861, post-combat rain had made its firstsignificant impact on the course of the war.

The siege of Lexington, Missouri, whichtook place in September of that same year,is unique in that some Union officersapparently told their men that continuedartillery fire would bring them rain,suggesting that some Civil War soldiers saw arelationship between heavy cannonading andprecipitation. The troops badly neededwater, and their officers needed all thearguments they could muster to encouragethe men to hold out as long as possible. Itdid in fact rain on the 17th. The men had nobuckets with which to catch the water, sothey wrung it out of their blankets, accordingto the account of General John McNulta,who was present at the fighting (Powers154).

Even the world’s first ironclad warship tosee combat appears to have had an effect onthe weather. On March 8, 1862, the CSSVirginia (built out of the hull of the formerUSS Merrimac) ran amuck throughHampton Roads, Virginia. Four U.S. vesselswere sunk or run aground (Sears, Gates ofRichmond 15). The next day, during thefamous fight between the Virginia and theUSS Monitor, rain set in. Powers received agood deal of this information from one FredM. Patrick, a member of the 10th New YorkVolunteers. Mr. Patrick noted in hiscorrespondence with Powers that he hadbelieved since 1861 that cannonading causedrain. He had even formed his own theory toexplain the matter. He wrote, “It struck meas a curious fact that the amount of rainwhich fell after each battle, seemed to bevery nearly in proportion to the amount ofpowder that was burnt” (Powers 188). Othernaval actions were also followed by rainfall.

Powers found an extremely strongconnection between combat and rain inaction along the Mississippi River. He notedthat nearly any fight of any size along itsbanks was followed by rain. Among thesebattles were New Madrid in Missouri, FortsJackson and St. Philip near New Orleans,engagements near Vicksburg, and fourseparate occasions at Island No. 10 (Powers23–30). Also fought in the Western Theaterwas the bloody battle of Shiloh. A Union

Carter / Coincidence or Chemistry 9

soldier who remembered this engagement onthe Tennessee River wrote: “in this case, thetheory was clearly demonstrated that greatbattles bring on copious rains, for itcontinued to rain for several days, althoughthe general tendency of the weather hadbeen clear and pleasant” (Miller 35).Confrontations in the Red River Campaignwere also followed by precipitation.

The spring of 1862 was exceptionally wetin Virginia. That combat caused such aprotracted rainy season extending overseveral months seems questionable, yet it didappear to influence it, triggering precipitationon specific days. This correlation is visible inboth Jackson’s Shenandoah Valley Campaignand McClellan’s fruitless adventure up theVirginia Peninsula. Captain N. J. Manning ofthe 23rd Ohio Volunteers noted rain after thebattles at McDowell and Cross Keys,although McDowell resulted in less than 900combined casualties—not a large battle byany means. Manning also wrote that “thequantity of rain seemed to be in proportionto the amount of artillery firing” (Powers187). Rain also followed Winchester andPort Republic.

The Peninsula Campaign was dominatedby poor weather. It started as early as thecapture of Yorktown on May 2. The trendcontinued with the Battles of Williamsburg,Seven Pines, Savage’s Station, and ofcourse, Malvern Hill. Roads were nearlyimpassable, and the armies made little, ifany, daily progress. A June 19 letter fromG.W. Hasler of the 13th New York to hisuncle, written while encamped nearMechanicsville, reveals the nearly dailybombardments along the lines nearRichmond: “I am now writing under a tree inthe shade behind a hill the enemy justopened up a battery on our camp and Mack[McClellan] is on top of the hill and Ishouldn’t wonder if they give him a shot.”He then goes on to comment that “theweather here is awful hot and it rains nearlyevery day it may be from the effects of somuch Cannonading smoke etc” (Hasler). Theweather that followed those battles in thateventful spring undoubtedly worked to

Confederate advantage. Though Jackson wasconstantly on the march in the Valley, Lee’sback was to his capital with little room tomaneuver. That left the movement up toMcClellan, and the swampy terrain ofEastern Virginia got the best of him.

While the poor weather during thePeninsula Campaign was generally moredetrimental to the Union Army, the rain thatfell at the conclusion of the Second Battle ofManassas had huge implications for bothsides. It began on the night of August 30,1862, just as hostilities were winding down.The rain ended any Confederate hope for afinal blow to U.S. General John Pope’sArmy of Virginia (Robertson, StonewallJackson 575). Lee ordered Jackson toundertake a roundabout pursuit of thedefeated enemy. The steady downpour didnot let up until 8:00 A.M. on September 1.Supply wagons were caught in the mud, andthe men were desperate for food (Robertson,Stonewall Jackson 579). Not long after4:00 P.M., Confederates from A.P. Hill’sdivision attacked the Union IX Corps nearOx Hill. The rain began anew, again intorrents. Powder was soaked. Hill orderedBrigadier General Lawrence Branch to holdthe Union men off with the bayonet. Branchsoon responded that his rifles could not befired, and Hill relayed this information toJackson. Jackson merely replied that theYankee ammunition was wet, too (Robertson,General A.P. Hill 128). Then confusion setin. Men could barely see. Union GeneralPhilip Kearny became overly excited androde forward in the blinding rain. He crossedinto the lines of the 55th Virginia and wascalled on to surrender. Instead he turned hismount and pressed back to his lines asquickly as the horse could run. It was toolate; he was killed in the saddle. Kearny wasthe second Union general to die at Chantilly(Ox Hill), after Isaac Stevens. Even moreconfusion occurred in the Union lines afterthe deaths of their generals. They pulledback after nightfall, but the rain kept theConfederates from noticing (Robertson,Stonewall Jackson 581). This was not theonly disaster caused by the post-combat rain


that day. Late in the day, General Lee wasnear his famous horse, Traveller, whensomeone nearby yelled, and startledTraveller. Lee reached for the bridle butslipped in the mud. He reached out bothhands to break his fall. A bone was fracturedin one hand, while the other hand wassprained (Dowdey 296; Freeman 243). Twodays later, the Confederate commandercrossed the Potomac to begin his mostimportant campaign yet, while riding in anambulance.

The Battle of Perryville, Kentucky also ledto rain. The battle occurred during GeneralBraxton Bragg’s invasion of Kentucky, whichwas planned to coincide with Lee’s thrustinto Maryland. Bragg, like Lee, would beturned back. The climatic battle, on October8, 1862, occurred during a drought. Powersinforms us that the atmosphere was notconducive to a large downpour. Many menwrote about the difficult dry conditions thatdeprived both soldiers and animals of water.Yet despite the arid conditions, the battlewas followed by a significant rain. Onthis occasion, a severe drought surprisinglyended following a large Civil War battle(Powers 40).

Less surprisingly, however, is the fact thatone of the greatest rains followed one of themost significant battles of the Civil War. Therains following Gettysburg nearly claimedLee’s army and contributed to the decision toelevate Grant to U.S. general-in-chief. TheBattle of Gettysburg was the culmination ofLee’s last large offensive into northernterritory. The battle—fought from July 1st

through 3rd in 1863—cost America over50,000 casualties. Rain began on the nightof the 3rd and did not let up until the 5th,causing the Potomac River to flood. Leereached the Potomac on July 7 and quicklyrealized that a crossing at that time was notfeasible. He deployed his army in a defensiveposition and waited for a Union attack. TheConfederates were not able to cross fornearly a week, but they finally returned tothe Old Dominion on the night of the 13th.Lee’s army was at a low point. Jackson wasgone, and the Confederates had suffered one

of their worst tactical defeats of the war. Leewas lucky to cross into Virginia with his armyintact. Yet the Union failed to follow up thevictory and achieved only a stalemate a fewmonths later at Mine Run. Thesedisappointments led to the decision to placeUlysses Grant above General George Meade tocoordinate all Union armies (Furgurson 4–5).

Though it occurred most often, rain wasnot the only form of precipitation thatfollowed combat. Snow, sleet, and freezingrain occurred in the colder months. Sleetcame on January 2, 1862, after the Battle ofStones River or Murfreesboro (Tennessee). Itdid, however, change to rain by the next day(Cozzens 181). The battle for Fort Donelsonlasted from February 13 until February 15 of1862. The night of the 13th saw rain, sleet,and snow, while the evening of the 15th

witnessed snow (Cooling 147, 200).According to Union General James Milroy, afreezing rain followed the bloody fight atFranklin, also in Tennessee, on November30, 1864 (Powers 157). Precipitation was tofall after combat, no matter the temperature.

Of course, some post-combat rain could becoincidence. But it occurred far toofrequently to be dismissed so easily. Onewould expect to find that combat continuedto influence weather in the second half of theCivil War, and Appendix A confirms that thisis the case.1 The annual precipitationaverages of the battlefield areas alsodemonstrate the correspondence betweenCivil War battles and the subsequent wetweather.

The National Oceanic and AtmosphericAgency has kept daily rainfall and snowfallrecords for many cities for as far back as the1890’s. Though these records do not date tothe Civil War, it is reasonable to assume thatthe weather patterns of today’s United Statesare not extremely different from those of theCivil War era. Appendix B contains a partiallist of those records that are relevant to thelocations of Civil War battlefields. For example,the Manassas, Virginia area witnessed atleast four major Civil War battles: First andSecond Manassas, Ox Hill (Chantilly), andBristoe Station. All four were either followed


by or fought during rain. In the order stated,these battles occurred in July, August,September, and October. Precipitationhistories have been kept at the WashingtonNational Airport for sixty-five years. Theairport is only about twenty-five miles fromManassas, so it is reasonable to assume thatthe weather at the two locations is similar. Inthis general area, the month of July averagesonly nine days of rainfall. Thus, the odds ofrain would be nine out of thirty-one, orroughly 29 percent. Nine days of rain is alsothe average for August, again 29 percent.The average in September is eight, or justunder 26 percent. In October it rains onaverage only seven days, less than in any ofthe other twelve months. October’s rainfallpercentage calculates as less than 23percent. In other words, it rains less thanone out of every four days in October inWashington, D. C. and Northern Virginia.Yet 100 percent of the major Civil Warbattles fought in this area produced or atleast preceded rain. Although moreinvestigation is needed pending a definitiveconclusion, the percentage of major CivilWar battles that were followed by rainappears to be far greater than one shouldexpect from the percentage of average dailyrainfall in their respective locations (NOAA).

THEORIES FORPOST-COMBAT RAIN

Since the late nineteenth century, no studyhas compared combat and weather, but theidea of weather modification is not new.Many meteorologists have performedexperiments with clouds in hopes thatsomeday man will be able to control thefrequency and amount of precipitation.Compounds have been discovered that arecapable of “seeding” clouds, artificiallycausing rain. One such procedure is thepractice of seeding clouds with thecompound silver iodide. Silver iodide is a saltwith a crystalline structure that can inducefreezing, which is used for cloud seeding, orrainmaking. China is one of the main

proponents of cloud seeding. In fact, thatcountry has undertaken an effort to seedclouds prior to the 2008 Summer Olympicsin an effort to “rain the clouds out” beforethe games begin, and also to aid in cleaningthe air of China’s extremely polluted capitalcity.

Every year millions of dollars are spent onweather modification for agricultural reasonsas well. For example, some farmers haveimplemented methods to turn hail into rainin an effort to prevent damage to theircrops. Hail cannons create shockwavesthrough the use of acetylene gas. Theshockwaves are intended to break up hailwithin clouds, thus causing rain andpreventing crop damage. Currently,however, hail cannons are extremely costly,and their effectiveness is questionable.

What I have discovered through myresearch is that these modern weathermodification techniques are closely related tothe accidental weather modification thatoccurred during the Civil War.

Powers offers a number of possibleexplanations or theories concerning whybattles induced precipitation. Most center onthe effects of the vibrations or concussion ofcannon fire, not the chemical makeup ofblack powder. He begins by describing thework of another scientist, a “ProfessorEspy.” Espy believed that large fires couldcreate rain. He wrote that an ascendingcolumn of air created a vacuum, drawing inadjacent air. Then, according to Espy’stheory, water vapor condensed as the rising,expanding air cooled. Therefore, Espyconcluded, a large fire could heat the air andcause it to ascend. Powers noted that asimilar process occurs when moist Pacific aircurrents (which move from west to east inthe Northern Hemisphere) strike the SierraNevada Mountains. The lower, warmercurrent rises and is then pressed into thecooler current above, causing a storm.Meteorologists today call this naturalphenomenon “adiabatic cooling.” Fartherinland too, the air over North America(which moves eastward from the Pacific) iswarm and contains a large amount of water


vapor. Above this equatorial current, there isa colder current known as the polar current.When portions of the polar and equatorialcurrents mix together, it rains (Powers 87–90).

Powers believed that concussion fromcannon fire could cause such a mixing of aircurrents (Powers 93). He explains that loudsounds cause concussions capable ofbreaking windows or even causing “thebodies of drowned persons to rise to thesurface of the water.”2 According toPowers’s theory, a current of air, whenstruck by such a concussion, would bendupward. The rise of one current would shiftthe lower air current into the upper aircurrent. Once these currents settled, theywould mix, Powers reasoned, and rain wouldresult (93–95).

Another possible mechanism that Powersconsidered involved fog. From many of theletters he received from the men who fought,Powers found that fog often set in very nearthe close of a battle. He postulated thatconcussion may have caused thecondensation of aqueous vapor, creating fog.If concussion actually did condense the watervapor of a current, Powers speculated, itmight change the motion of the current.Through condensation, heat would evolve,and that current would rise. The warmercurrent would then mix with the cooler oneabove. A circular motion would be startedand the current would gain strength. Thiscircular action would continue to accelerateuntil rain was formed (95–96).

Though Powers is the only person to havedone a full-length study of the subject, othercontemporaries often offered their opinionson post-combat rain. George Albnee (spellingis possibly incorrect, as handwriting is nearlyillegible) of Pittsburgh did some amateurmeteorological work pertaining to Gettysburg.On July 27, 1863, he mailed daily weathercharts to the Smithsonian Institution todocument the current and historic weather ofPittsburgh. Attached to these charts in theNational Archives is an excerpt from whatcan be assumed to be a Pittsburghnewspaper. The author is unidentified, but itmay very well have been Albnee himself. The

short article contains remarks on the weatherof the preceding month, predictions for themonth to come, and, more importantly, anexplanation for the extremely localized rainsthat followed the Battle of Gettysburg.During those early days of July, rain causedthe Kanawha, Potomac, and Beaver Riversto rise. The water level of the Monongahela,however, changed very little. The writeroffers this theoretical explanation:

On the three days battle of Gettysburg, 1st,2d, and 3d inst., there were slight showers inthis region, but more than usual sunshine,while on the Potomac, at and after that time,there were very heavy and copious rains.The concussion of the effected vacuum inthe atmosphere, into which the clouds settledat the top of the mountains, pushed anddeprived the Monongahela of her share ofwater. For two or three days the sunexhibited a rich appearance at meridian. Asthis can only be by smoke, I infer that thesmoke of the battle was driven by east andsouth east winds to settle at the top of themountains.

Here, another observer offers concussion asa cause for post-combat rain.

However, this report is even moresignificant for a different reason: it furtherillustrates the point that most of the rainsthat followed battles were confined to rathersmall areas surrounding the battlefieldsthemselves. Pittsburgh is a mere 150 mileswest of Gettysburg. It is reasonable to saythat any storm of the magnitude that hitGettysburg after the battle should havepassed through the Pittsburgh vicinity. Butaccording to Pittsburgh’s weather records,this was not the case. The rain followingGettysburg was localized. The writer of thenews article does indicate slight showers inSouthwestern Pennsylvania in the first weekof July, but none that compares to those thatplagued Lee’s retreat from Gettysburg. Evenif the combat at Gettysburg did not createrain on its own, it at least enhanced a weakstorm into one that the Army of NorthernVirginia would forever remember.

Admittedly, not all significant Civil War


battles were followed by rain. Fair weathercame after Wilson’s Creek, Ball’s Bluff,Cedar Mountain, Richmond (Kentucky),South Mountain, Iuka, Corinth, Chickamauga,Olustee, the Wilderness, Piedmont, KennesawMountain, Brice’s Cross Roads, Monocacy,the Crater, Cedar Creek, and Five Forks.Why did precipitation not follow thesebattles? The relative absence of artilleryoffers one possible explanation. Rains nearlyalways followed large battles that employedlarge amounts of artillery fire. More research,however, is needed to determine themagnitude of battery fire in most of these“dry” battles. Another possible reason for thelack of post-combat rain in these cases couldbe that the clouds over the battlefields at thetime had already lost much of their moisture.Rain cannot fall if there is not enoughcondensed vapor within the clouds. The finalexplanation could simply be that there wereno clouds at all over the battlefields at thetime of these battles. While Civil War combatcould have had an effect on existing cloudsto cause rain, it could not have producedmoisture from clear skies, since there wouldhave been no readily available form ofprecipitation nearby.

CONCLUSION

Throughout this paper, I have revealedthat precipitation followed many Civil Warbattles and that the war’s participants wereaware of that phenomenon. Many soldiersand other observers even put in writing theirbeliefs that the two were related. In the firststudy of the relationship between combatand precipitation, Edward Powers offeredsome theories about post-combat rain inorder to help farmers during times ofdrought and flooding. Powers, however,based his study on the concussion of cannon,not on the chemical makeup of blackpowder. After over a century of technologicaladvancement, we can now offer new theoriesto explain this phenomenon.

Based upon my research, I have developed

my own theory about the relationshipbetween Civil War combat and theprecipitation that often followed. Civil Wargunpowder contained three main components:charcoal, sulfur, and saltpeter, or potassiumnitrate. Potassium nitrate is an oxidizer usedin cloud seeding to cause ice nuclei withinclouds to absorb moisture and create clouddroplets faster. Similar salts are used tocreate large cloud droplets, which acceleratethe precipitation of “warm rain.” In otherwords, these oxidizers are used to “hurry up”the process, causing a cloud to rain before itnormally would (Boe).

The next step in my research is tocomplete the stoichiometry for the reactionof the firing of gunpowder. If it can beproven that a salt is formed from thecombustion of gunpowder, which is likely,black powder could produce hygroscopicnuclei. This would speed the formation oflarge cloud droplets, which in turn wouldspeed the fall of precipitation. If a salt isformed from the combustion of blackpowder, then it is nearly certain that CivilWar rifle and especially cannon fire causedrain to fall on or near the area of thefighting. This linkage, if confirmed, shouldresolve a mystery unexplained for the pastcentury and a half.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

This project began as a mere passingthought. That idea has turned into a fulllength study that, while still a work inprogress pending additional research, comesnearer and nearer to completion. There area few people who were extremelyinstrumental in getting it from its inception towhere it is now. My co-workers at theRichmond National Battlefield Park and Mr.Robert K. Krick of Fredericksburg, Virginia,were crucial in directing me to numeroussources on precipitation and combat. JanetHolly and Megan Newman of VMI’s PrestonLibrary provided assistance with a variety ofmaterials relevant to my study. I receivedinvaluable help from the scientific community


through researchers like Dr. Bruce Boe ofWeather Modification, Inc. Finally, I come tomy mentor, Dr. Cash Koeniger. Dr.Koeniger has been my guide at every step ofthe way. I am fortunate to have hadsomeone with as much experience as he hasto walk me through the research process andto share with me his interpretive and editorialinsights as the paper took shape. It isbecause of him more than anyone thathopefully I can now lay this mystery to restafter 140 years of uncertainty.

NOTES1 The space constraints of this journal article preclude

systematic treatment of Civil War battles afterGettysburg. However, the author hopes to revisitthese subjects in a subsequent publication.

2 Mark Twain mentions this phenomenon in TheAdventures of Tom Sawyer.

APPENDIXChart A documents the weather conditions

corresponding to major Civil War battles andthose of the two days following each.

Chart A

Name of BattleWeather Day

of BattleWeather Dayafter Battle

Weather Two DaysAfter Battle

1. Big Bethel, VA N/A Heavy rain N/AJune 10, 1861

2. Rich Mountain, WV N/A Heavy rain Possibly heavy rainJuly 10, 1861

3. First Manassas, VA Hot, rain late in day Heavy rain N/AJuly 21, 1861

4. Carnifex Ferry, WV N/A Rain N/ASeptember 10, 1861

5. Cheat Mountain, WV N/A Rain N/ASeptember 12–15, 1861

6. Lexington, MO (17th) Rain N/A N/ASeptember 13–20, 1861

7. Greenbrier River, WV N/A Rain N/AOctober 3, 1861

8. Near Fort Pickens, FL Evening storm N/A N/ANovember 22, 1861

9. Camp Allegheny, WV N/A Rain N/ADecember 13, 1861

10. Roanoke Island, NC (7th) Clear morning, Rain until noon N/AFebruary 7–8, 1862 rainy night

(8th) Rain11. Fort Donelson, TN (13th) Cold turning to N/A N/A

February 13–15, 1862 rain, sleet, and snow(14th) Cold(15th) Cold, night snow

12. Pea Ridge, AR (7th) Clear and Cold Rain N/AMarch 6–8, 1862 (8th) Cold

13. Hampton Roads, VA (8th) Clear and cool N/A N/AMarch 8–9, 1862 (9th) Rain

14. New Madrid, MO Rain late in the night N/A N/AMarch 13, 1862

15. New Bern, NC Fair Rain N/AMarch 14, 1862

16. Island No. 10, MO/TN (April 4) Night rain (March 18) Rain N/A(four separate occasions) (April 4) Morning rainMarch 17; April 3, 4, 7, 1862 (April 8) Morning rain

17. Shiloh, TN (6th) Clear day, night rain (7th) Late night rain, hail, N/AApril 6–7, 1862 sleet


Chart A (continued )




18. Ft. Jackson and St. Clear Morning rain N/APhilip, LA

19. Fort Macon, NC (25th) Clear until N/A N/AApril 25–26, 1862 evening, cloudy at 6 PM

(26th) Rainy afternoon20. Williamsburg, VA Rain day and night Clear N/A

May 5, 186221. McDowell, VA Probably clear Probably light rain N/A

May 8, 186222. Seven Pines, VA Fair Morning drizzle, Night thunderstorms

May 31–June 1, 1862 evening downpour23. Cross Keys, VA Night rain N/A N/A

June 8, 186224. Secessionville, SC N/A Rain N/A

June 16, 186225. Gaines’ Mill, VA Clear and warm Night rains Night rains

June 27, 186226. Savage’s Station, VA Late heavy rains Very early rains Clear and hot

June 29, 186227. Malvern Hill, VA Clear and hot Heavy rain Night rains

July 1, 186228. Cedar Mountain, VA Hot Rain N/A

August 9, 186229. Second Manassas, VA Hot, rain begins night of 30th Rain Afternoon rain

August 28–30, 186230. Ox Hill, VA Heavy rain N/A N/A

September 1, 186231. Antietam, MD Clear Evening rain N/A

September 17, 186232. Perryville, KY Clear, in midst of drought Rain N/A

October 8, 186233. Prairie Grove, AR Clear and dry Morning rain N/A

December 7, 186234. Fredericksburg, VA Foggy morning, clear later Probably fair Night rain

December 13, 186235. Stones River, TN (31st) Mist Night rain Rain

December 31–January 2, 1862 (1st) Cold(2nd) Cold, noon sleet

36. Chancellorsville, VA Clear Rain N/AMay 1–4, 1863 (4th) Night rain

37. Raymond, MS N/A N/A RainMay 12, 1863

38. Vicksburg, MS (May 22, 27, 28, 31) Rain N/A N/AMay 18–July 4, 1863 (June 10, 15, 16, 23, 24) Rain

39. Port Hudson, LA (May 29) Rain N/A N/AMay 22–July 9, 1863 (June 11) Heavy rain

(June 16) Rain(June 28) Rain

40. Brandy Station, VA Night rain N/A N/AJune 9, 1863

41. Gettysburg, PA Hot and clear Heavy rain Heavy rainJuly 1–3, 1863 (3rd) Night rain

42. Fort Wagner, SC Clear morning, night rain Early morning rain N/AJuly 18, 1863


Chart B details the average monthlyweather of the locations of the war’s biggestbattles. The data is from the National Oceanicand Atmospheric Agency’s online weather

resources. This data dates back at least thirtyyears, and in most cases, much more. Thedata is taken from the NOAA reportinglocation nearest the cited battlefield.

Chart A (continued )




43. Bristoe Station, VA Clear N/A Heavy rainOctober 14, 1863

44. Missionary Ridge, TN Fair Rain N/ANovember 25, 1863

45. Mine Run, VA (28th) Rain N/A N/ANovember 26–December 2, 1863

46. Spotsylvania CH, VA (10th) Night rain N/A N/AMay 8–21, 1864 (11–13th) Intermittent heavy rain

47. New Market, VA Heavy rain Light rain N/AMay 15, 1864

48. Drewry’s Bluff II, VA Evening rain N/A RainMay 16, 1864

49. North Anna River, VA (23rd) Clear Intermittent rain N/AMay 23–24, 1864 (24th) Clear morning, PM rain

50. Dallas, GA Fair Rain N/AMay 28, 1864

51. Haw’s Shop, VA Night rain N/A N/AMay 28, 1864

52. Cold Harbor, VA (31st) Clear N/A N/AMay 31–June 12, 1864 (2nd) Evening/ night rain

(3rd) Morning/ night rain53. Second Kernstown, VA Fair and dry Rain N/A

July 24, 186454. Mobile Bay, AL (5, 8, 10, 11th) Rain N/A N/A

August 2–25, 186455. Globe Tavern, VA (18th) Night rain N/A N/A

August 18–21, 1864 (21st) Night rain56. Berryville, VA (3rd) Rain Rain Rain

September 3–4, 1864 (4th) Rain57. Chaffin’s Farm, VA (29th) Night rain Evening rain N/A

September 29–30, 1864 (30th) Night rain58. Peeble’s Farm, VA N/A Afternoon rain N/A

October 2, 186459. Boydton Plank Road, VA N/A Evening heavy rains N/A

October 27, 186460. Franklin, TN Cold Rain to sleet N/A

November 30, 186461. Nashville, TN Cold Heavy rain/ freezing Heavy rain/ freezing

December 15–16, 1864 rain rain62. Fort Fisher, NC (12th) Clear Rain N/A

January 12–15, 1865 (13th) Hail(14th) Cloudy, then clear(15th) Fair

63. Hatcher’s Run, VA (7th) Snow N/A N/AFebruary 5–7, 1865

64. Bentonville, NC (19th) Clear Morning rain N/AMarch 19–21, 1865 (20th) Clear

(21st) Rain


WORKS CITED AND CONSULTEDAlbnee, George. Letter to John. 27 July 1863.

National Archives. College Park, Maryland.Alexander, Edward Porter. Ed. Gary W.

Gallagher. Fighting for the Confederacy.Chapel Hill: U of North Carolina P, 1989.

Boe, Bruce. Personal Correspondence withAuthor. 2007.

Cooling, Benjamin Franklin. Forts Henry andDonelson: The Key to the ConfederateHeartland. Knoxville: U of Tennessee P,1987.

Cozzens, Peter. No Better Place to Die. Urbana:U of Illinois P, 1990.

Daniel, Larry J. Shiloh: The Battle that Changedthe Civil War. New York: Simon, 1997.

Davis, William C. Battle at Bull Run. BatonRogue: Louisiana State UP, 1981.

Dowdey, Clifford. Lee. Gettysburg: Stan Clark,1991.

Freeman, Douglass Southall. R. E. Lee. Abridgedby Richard Harwell. New York: Touchstone,1997.

Furgurson, Ernest B. Not War but Murder. NewYork: Knopf, 2000.

Hasler, G.W. Letter. 19 June 1862. RichmondNational Battlefield Park. Richmond, Virginia.

Hennesy, John J. Return to Bull Run. NewYork: Simon, 1993.

Hess, Earl J., and Shea, William L. Pea Ridge:Civil War Campaign in the West. ChapelHill: U of North Carolina P, 1992.

Hughes, Nathaniel Cheairs, Jr. Bentonville: TheFinal Battle of Sherman and Johnston.Chapel Hill: U of North Carolina P, 1996.

McDonald, William Ogden. Personal Diary. 2 July1862, Lib. of Congress. Washington, D.C.

Miller, Charles Dana. Ed. Stewart Bennett andBarbara Tillery. The Struggle for the Life ofthe Republic: A Civil War Narrative byBrevet Major Charles Dana Miller, 76th OhioVolunteer Infantry. Kent: Kent State UP,2004.

National Oceanic and Atmospheric AgencyNational Data Center, Mean Number of Dayswith Precipitation 0.01 Inch or More. May2007. 14 July 2007. <http://www.ncdc.noaa.gov/oa/climate/online/ccd/prge01.txt>

Noe, Kenneth. Perryville: This Grand Havoc ofBattle. Lexington: UP of Kentucky, 2001.

Powers, Edward. War and the Weather. 2nd ed.Delavan: E. Powers, 1890.

Rhea, Gordon C. Battle of the Wilderness, May5–6, 1864. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State UP,1994.

Chart B

Name of Battle Month of BattleAverage Days

of PrecipitationPercentage

for Precipitation

1. First Manassas July 9 29%2. Fort Donelson February 10 36%3. Pea Ridge March 9 29%4. Shiloh April 9 30%5. Seven Pines May–June 10, 9 32%, 30%6. Gaines’ Mill June 9 30%7. Malvern Hill July 11 35%8. Second Manassas August 8 26%9. Ox Hill September 8 27%

10. Antietam September 8 27%11. Perryville October 8 26%12. Fredericksburg December 9 29%13. Stones River Dec–Jan 10, 11 32%, 35%14. Chancellorsville May 10 32%15. Gettysburg July 10 32%16. Bristoe Station October 7 23%17. Chattanooga November 8 27%18. Spotsylvania May 10 32%19. Cold Harbor May–June 10, 9 32%, 30%20. Franklin November 9 30%21. Nashville December 10 32%22. Bentonville March 10 32%


—— . To the North Anna River: Grant and Lee,May 13–25, 1864. Baton Rouge: LouisianaState UP, 2000.

—— . Cold Harbor: Grant and Lee, May 26–June 3, 1864. Baton Rouge: Louisiana StateUP, 2002.

Robertson, James I., Jr. General A.P. Hill: TheStory of a Confederate Warrior. New York:Vintage, 1992.

—— . Stonewall Jackson: The Man, the Soldier,the Legend. New York: Macmillan, 1997.

Sears, Stephen W. Chancellorsville. Boston:Houghton, 1996.

—— . Gettysburg. Boston: Houghton, 2003.

—— . To the Gates of Richmond. New York:Ticknor & Fields, 1992.

Trudeau, Noah Andre. Bloody Roads South: TheWilderness to Cold Harbor, May–June 1864.Baton Rouge: Louisiana State UP, 2000.

Twain, Mark. The Adventures of Tom Sawyer.New York: Harper, 1903.


No More Quetta Manners:The Social Evolution of the Royal

Welch Fusiliers on the Western Front

Cadet Gregory E. Lippiatt

Faculty Mentor: Dr. Eric W. Osborne, Department of History

ABSTRACTThe Great War of 1914–1918 had a profound transformational effect on many aspects ofBritish military life, from battlefield tactics to materiel production. One of the mostsignificant of these changes was the effect of the war on the social demographics andrelationships of the soldiers, both enlisted men and officers. The personal memoirs andofficial regimental records of those who served with the Royal Welch Fusiliers describe indetail this transformation. The attritional nature of the conflict served as a great leveller,and much of the elitism and social stratification of the pre-war army gave way to a morecommon and egalitarian organisation. The expansion and democratisation of the RoyalWelch Fusiliers (as a microcosm of the British Army) in the First World War woulddrastically affect the unit’s composition and nature of operation as it evolved from a colonialpolice force and became a modern military machine.

INTRODUCTION

The regiments of the British Army thatparticipated in the great struggle of 1914–1918 demonstrate well the transitional roleof the First World War in military and socialhistory. Accustomed to serving as thepunitive arm for preserving order in theEmpire (in the case of Regular Battalions) ordefending the British Isles from insurrectionor foreign invasion (as in the case of theTerritorial Force), the unforeseen length andnature of the European conflict forced thesmall, traditional, volunteer army to adapt ifit was to survive, much less conquer. As aresult, the regiments that set out across theEnglish Channel in 1914 would not have

recognised themselves—much larger andconsequently less exclusive—as they left thetrenches in 1918. The Great War and thesocial aspects surrounding it seem to sitawkwardly on the cusp of the mechanisedtwentieth century, out of place both with theage from which they were born and thosewhich they would usher in. The Royal WelchFusiliers document these changes well, giventhe large volume of post-war memoirswritten by regimental alumni. The famouswar poets Robert Graves and SiegfriedSassoon both served as Special Reserveofficers in the Regular Battalions of theregiment and published accounts of theirservice years later, as did Private FrankRichards. Along with the official Regimental


21

Records, these sources provide an excellentcomprehensive view of life in the RoyalWelch Fusiliers (especially in the RegularBattalions). The proud pre-war service andinvolvement of the Fusiliers in almost allmajor actions and developments in theBritish sector of the war make it an idealcase study of the ways in which units of theBritish Army adapted to the difficulties theyfaced over the course of their experience onthe Western Front. During the Great War,the social structures and customs of theRoyal Welch Fusiliers underwent a markedevolution as a result of their need to shift—asa unit—from an Edwardian colonial policeforce to a modern military machine capableof fighting a total war on the Continent.

THE OFFICERSThese changes to the social status quo

ante were perhaps most visible among theofficers. While many in the armyestablishment had begun to recognise, evenbefore the war, the need to re-evaluateaccepted tactical doctrine, noted historianTimothy Travers claims that “growingpressure to professionalize the British officercame up against an officer corps whosemembers often favoured reform, but whoseattitudes and ethos remained essentiallytraditional” (4–5). Even so, historian EdwardM. Spiers notes that avenues of reform wereimplemented before the war that managed toavoid upsetting the semi-feudal nature ofarmy organisation and practice:

To improve professionally, the army hadneither changed its social composition nordeveloped closer links with the rest ofsociety. It had developed a new sense ofprofessionalism by the prescription andpractice of training and tactical skills whichseemed more relevant to the alteredconditions of warfare. (48–49)

However, these reforms primarily affectedthe immediate tactical situation on thebattlefield, rather than the way in which thecommand structure operated. Much of thisreform was dictated by the personal, ratherthan professional, nature of the officer corps,

especially at the higher levels of command,in which arms rivalries, promotions basedon favouritism and removals based onvindictiveness predominated; sinecurecommands and absentee commanders werenot uncommon; and suggestions from juniorofficers contrary to the thinking of theirsuperiors were not tolerated (Travers 26–27).Unfortunately, those middle and juniorofficers (such as those in the Royal WelchFusiliers) were the ones “working hard tocatch [the army] up with reality” (Travers23), despite the reluctance of theircommanders, who remained tied to theirtraditional social structures.

Even the assignment of individual officersto their regiments (at least in the RegularBattalions), both before and (to a lesserextent) during the war, reflected thispersonalised structure. Indeed, theofficer-regiment pairing process more closelyresembles a university freshman’s applicationfor an exclusive fraternity bid than anyjudicious and efficient allocation of militarypersonnel. In fact, the War Office—thoughthe ultimate practical arbiter on the grantingof a commission—had little ability to compela regiment to admit a candidate it foundundesirable. A candidate’s application to aparticular regiment was judged to someextent on his personal abilities andachievements, but his social and financialpositions also weighed heavily. In many ofthe more exclusive regiments, an officercandidate required outside income in order tomaintain the social and sporting obligationsexpected of an officer (even a junior one) ofhis station. Family connections or anestablished relationship with a more seniorofficer in the desired regiment were alsoimportant, but could be overcome byexceptional performance at Sandhurst orWoolwich1 (Simpson 66). Siegfried Sassoonmanaged to secure a Special Reservecommission to the Royal Welch Fusiliersthrough the reference of a family friend whohad once served with the regiment and who,in turn, had a former comrade whosenephew was currently adjutant (Fox-HuntingMan 306–07). Usually, however, a candidate


had to sit for an interview with theregimental commander and pass theassessment of the other officers (Simpson66–67). The Royal Welch Fusiliers, as anold, socially elite regiment with a long andproud history and the king himself for theirColonel-in-Chief, sat on the high end of thepecking order of regimental prestige andpractised a very exclusive selection processwhen it came to regular commissions(Simpson 66). However, as the war madelarge numbers of new officers a necessity,such tortuous procedures became inconvenientand ridiculous, as candidates were desperatelyrequired to fill the officer complements ofcontinually depleted battalions.

Even so, social elitism did not end oncethe officer arrived at his new regiment. Forroughly his first six months, he was subjectedto the same sort of social degradation andexclusion that he had most likely experiencedin his first years of public school or the RoyalMilitary Academy. After being humiliated inthe mess and ignored by the other officers ofthe regiment, he would eventually either beaccepted or shunned for the rest of hiscareer with that unit (Simpson 66–67). Aslate as 1915, Robert Graves’s arrival to the2nd Royal Welch Fusiliers began with abriefing on the social conservatism andsnobbery of the battalion from a SpecialReserve lieutenant of the East SurreyRegiment “contemptuously known as ‘theSurrey-man’” (Graves 124). Graves’s ownreception by the battalion at that evening’sBattalion Mess (itself a carry-over frompre-war practice; during the war mostbattalions messed by company) was equallyrude. Junior officers did not speak above awhisper at mess, and were forbidden whiskey.Furthermore, the battalion commander andexecutive officer humiliated him in front ofthe entire Mess for a minor uniforminconsistency from his time attached to theWelch Regiment (Graves 125–28). The curioussurvival of such conservative peacetime socialhabits is perhaps explained by the unusualfact that the 2nd Royal Welch Fusiliers wasstill filled in 1915 almost exclusively byregular officers (Simpson 79). This “Old

Guard” worked hard, sometimes to the pointof absurdity, to maintain the standards andtraditions of such a distinguished unit.

Such rigorous entrance rituals reflectedonly one aspect of the Royal Welch Fusiliers’history as an old, exceptional, and proudregiment. At 29, the Royal Welch held themost battle-honours of any continuous singletwo-battalion regiment in the British Army atthe beginning of the war (Graves 82),including most of the greatest victories inBritish military history (Cary 258, 315;Graves 83, 90). The regiment’s only disasterhad been at the Siege of Yorktown duringthe American War of Independence, inwhich Robert Graves claims the original“Tommy Atkins”2 served as a Royal WelchFusilier (Graves 83). When offered theopportunity to become the Welsh Guardsafter the Boer War, it was proudly refused,as it would mean becoming the junior regimentof the Guards (Graves 88), which belied theRoyal Welch Fusiliers’s consideration ofthemselves as second to none.

Aside from the illustrious Regimental Goat,the physical focal point of the regiment’spride lay in the flash, a distinctive collectionof five dove-tailed black ribbons which hungfrom the back of the collar. During the war,officers and warrant-officers wore the flashon service dress, despite Army Councilregulations confining its display to the scarletuniforms of peacetime. Originally a regulationaccessory of all British uniforms for tying theend of the queue in the eighteenth and earlynineteenth centuries, the 1st Royal WelchFusiliers had been posted overseas to NovaScotia when it was abolished, and had notreceived the order. When they returned toEngland still wearing the flash in 1834,King William IV granted its wear to themas a unique and distinctive mark of prideto be worn by officers and men inrecognition of their service in the NapoleonicWars (Cary 403–05; Graves 84–85). Anotherdistinguishing and fiercely guarded oddity ofthe regiment lay in its spelling of “Welch.”This spelling was only officially recognised bythe Army Council after the war, but wasused by the regiment throughout. Graves

Lippiatt / No More Quetta Manners 23

claims that it “referred us somehow to thearchaic North Wales of Henry Tudor andOwen Glendower and Lord Herbert ofCherbury, the founder of the Regiment; itdissociated us from the modern North Walesof chapels, Liberalism, the dairy and draperybusiness, slate mines, and the tourist trade”(Graves 85–86). It is sadly ironic that theexperience of the Royal Welch Fusiliers inthe Great War reflects the transition from“archaic” to “modern” Wales, as the OwenGlendowers of the Old Army disappearedand had their ranks filled by the slate minersof the New.

As the war raged on, many (thoughcertainly not all) traditions faded away withthe regular officers that enforced them, asthey had already in the First Battalion, whichhad been devastated early in the war at theFirst Battle of Ypres and had lost manyhigh-ranking officers (Dudley Ward 94–95).But as late as April 1917, Siegfried Sassoonfound a cold reception when he becameexecutive officer of a company in the SecondBattalion (after having served since 1915with the First Battalion). His companycommander, a pre-war Special Reserveofficer, enjoyed the idea of humiliating andostracising subalterns (called “warts” in theRoyal Welch Fusiliers). While not as harsh asthe earlier (and higher-ranking) officers hadbeen to Graves, Sassoon’s companycommander still treated him with decidedcontempt for his first few weeks with thebattalion (Sassoon, Infantry Officer 184–85). It was also made unequivocally clear toGraves that he, as a Special Reserve officerserving in a Line Battalion, should not expectany recommendations for decoration, asthese honours were for regular soldiers ofthe regiment. Graves claims that almostwithout exception this limitation proved true(88–89), though Sassoon was awarded theMilitary Cross while with the First Battalion(Sassoon, Infantry Officer 70). It seems thatthe social snobbery of the pre-war RegularArmy establishment was much harder to killthan the men who constantly refilled theirbattalions after each disaster.

Much of this pre-war traditional officer

mindset found its indoctrination in the Britishpublic school system. The personal nature ofthe pre-war officer corps and its reliance onthe gentlemanly class for its candidatesresulted in the majority of officers in theRegular Army being public school graduates.Many schools hosted cadet corps, which rosein popularity after the Boer War andprovided a base level of training beforeofficer-hopefuls applied for a place atSandhurst or a commission in the SpecialReserve. Team games, which dominated therecreational life of public schools, also madegraduates attractive to the army, not only asa result of the physical fitness theyencouraged, but also because of the moral“virtues” they instilled (Spiers 41–42). Publicschool culture infused its pupils with a strongsense of acceptance and obedience toestablished authority, group loyalty, anti–intellectualism, and an emphasis on individualcharacter. Such values discouraged criticismof the status quo, elevated particular “heroic”personalities, and threw up other barriers toretard reform (Travers 5). It is also possiblethat the traditional competition found betweenpublic school houses helped to foster theenvironment that produced the arms rivalriesand colonial service “rings” that plagued thepre-war command staff. The public schoolexperience is even reflected in the officialreports of officers throughout the war, asthey likened battles—and the war itself—to aschoolboy tussle through the use of suchlanguage as “shaking,” “rattling,” “thumping,”and “beating” to describe the effects of theirengagements (Travers 50). This blinddevotion to group dynamics and the inabilityto see reality beyond that which their schoolindoctrination allowed would characterise theBritish officers’ outlook (especially at thehigher levels) throughout the war.

The public schools that bred the regularofficer corps were only one aspect, though acrucial one, of the entire traditional societywhich the army reflected. Indeed, Traversattributes the resistance of many officers tostructural reform to “a simple desire toperpetuate the privileges and attractions ofthe late Victorian and Edwardian army, with


its pleasant life, social networks andtraditional ideals” (27). Most of the officercorps was drawn from traditional sources,such as military families, the gentry, andsome middle-class civilian professions. Veryfew came from commercial or industrialbackgrounds. There are several reasons forthis trend. Military families naturally inspiredor pressured their sons to carry on thetradition of their fathers. Some in the landedgentry belonged to the nouveaux riches whohad achieved their prosperity in morecommercial interests and had subsequentlymoved onto land vacated by aristocraticfamilies with declining fortunes over the lastcentury. Having sons with respectablecareers in the officer corps of the RegularArmy gave these newcomers an opportunityto gentle their social condition to match theirwealth. Finally, the field sports sponsored byregimental officer society appealed greatly tothe gentry, who relished such pursuits (Spiers39–41). This predilection for country sportscontinued throughout the war, mostprominently in the Second Battalion. As lateas August 1917, Major Poore (an officer ofthe Second Battalion) went boar-hunting withthe notables of Airaines, while other officersattempted to organise polo matches andpaper chases (Dudley Ward 336). While suchindulgence of gentlemanly pursuits duringwartime may seem an absurd nostalgicfantasy, it certainly also helped maintain thesanity of officers who had to be constantlycomposed while confronting the horrors oflife in the trenches.

In addition to the gentlemanly pursuitsexpected of officers, the army and regimentdemanded a certain gentlemanly standard ofbehaviour and leadership. Even when raisingthe New Army Battalions, the War Officeinsisted that candidates for commissions mustbe “gentlemen” (Keegan 220). Instruction inleadership—today standard in nearly allofficer candidacy courses—did not exist inany formalised sense:

Neither Sandhurst nor Woolwich “taught”leadership. It was assumed that by the time acandidate reached either of these two

institutions, or alternatively went direct to hisregiment, he had already acquired thenecessary social and moral qualities thoughtnecessary for an officer and gentleman andthus a military leader. (Simpson 65)

Such qualities were enough, to the traditionalmindset, for one to be an effective leader.Not only were such upper and upper-middleclass values seen as necessary for leadership,but there also existed a strong belief that thesoldiers in the ranks—mostly drawn from thelower and lower middle classes—wouldresent being officered by non-gentlemanlymembers of their own social stratum(Simpson 65). To the prevailing socialconcept of the army establishment, onlygentlemen could be officers because onlygentlemen, by definition, possessed thequalities necessary for military leadership.

Thus the homogenous composition of theofficer corps in part achieved the desire of anostalgic preservation of “the way thingswere.” For better or for worse, the officers ofthe British Army “reflected Edwardiansociety, with its good and bad points, its classstructure and its underlying social andnational trends” (Travers 38). The idea of1914 officers setting off for France with theirswords by their side demonstrates onesuperficial example of this outlook. The factthat later in the war many officers resistedmore practical uniform changes by burnishingtheir steel helmets or adopting walking sticks toreplace their swords showed how ingrainedwas the traditional image of an officer(Simpson 84). On a deeper level, the officercorps harboured strong, conservative, anti–intellectual prejudices that were closely in tunewith the sentiments of the turn-of-the-centuryupper middle class. Physical virility and aSocial Darwinism relied on “courage” and“manliness” in order to achieve nationaland military supremacy, rather than“bookishness” and intellectualism (Travers39). These sentiments led to a rejection ofthe ideas of “theory” and “doctrine,” insteadpromoting less tangible alternatives such as“initiative,” “surprise,” and “experience” toensure victory (Travers 41).


Edwardian social prejudices in the pre-warofficer corps also fell against the lowerclasses and, by extension, the men in theranks. This mistrust stemmed in part fromwhat was perceived as questionablepatriotism on the part of the urban populaceand Social Darwinist beliefs that the Britishrace, at least on the lower levels in which themajority of the population fell, was in decline(Travers 40). One Edwardian general,Major-General Sir Walter Knox, describedthe English urban classes as a “physicallydeteriorated race of town-bred humanity”(qtd. in Travers 40). The homogenous and,at the higher levels, somewhat insulatednature of the pre-war officer communityensured that such prejudices were rarelyquestioned.

THE RANKS

The event of war proved such fearsabsurd, of course, both in the Regular andNew Armies. However, these concerns areunderstandable in light of the composition ofthe pre-war ranks. Most of the men wereunskilled and unemployed before enlisting,and the largest demographic among regularrankers was the “town casual.” Indeed,neither the occupation nor its compensationwas very attractive to men with regularemployment (Spiers 44–46). Furthermore,while many families in the upper strata ofsociety encouraged their sons to aspire for aking’s commission, Victorian mores lookedupon the life of a soldier in the ranks as acareer of vice and vagrancy, and suchprejudices had not yet been dispelled by theend of the Edwardian era. Sons who had“gone for soldier” were often seen as beingas good as dead to the families they leftbehind (Keegan 216). In light of thisreputation for the martial vocation, it is notsurprising that pre-war recruiting failed toachieve even the shrunken projections ofSecretary of State for War, Richard Haldane,for the size of the army establishment (Spiers44). The physical quality of the recruits whodid actually enlist was not promising. Theirpoor health and stunted development spoke

of the poverty of their backgrounds, whichwere primarily urban (Spiers 44); even in theRoyal Welch Fusiliers, only ten percent ofthe ranks were Welsh, and the largest groupof enlisted men hailed from Birmingham(Dudley Ward 80). The disparity betweensuch men and the upper and upper-middleclass officers who led them was striking.

This divide not only arose naturally out ofsuch socioeconomic contrast but was alsonecessarily imposed by military regulation.Due to army reforms, officers in the earlytwentieth century had to work alongside theirnon-commissioned officers (NCOs) and takea more hands-on approach to leading theirmen, unlike earlier army structure, but menin most regiments were still not allowed tocommunicate with an officer except throughan NCO (Simpson 68). In many ways, socialregulations and discipline for enlisted mencontinued just as they had during peacetimeand colonial service. The punishment forlooting early in the war, as for many otheroffences, was death (Richards 34), and untilNovember 1914, those men sentenced toimprisonment left their unit to serve it out.However, military necessity required fightingmen to stay in the trenches, andsubsequently many who were so sentencedhad their punishments forgiven for “gallantconduct in the field” (Richards 53). Despitethe order of General John French (firstcommander of the British ExpeditionaryForce in France) after the Battle of theMarne that no man who had becomeseparated from his battalion during theRetreat from Mons should be punished,Colonel H. Delmé-Radcliffe, commandingthe 2nd Royal Welch Fusiliers, nonethelessconsigned all those who had not stayed withthe battalion during the Retirement to routemarching drills as punishment (these detailsalso included a few “warts” who had notkept up) (Richards 30). This attitude of“business as usual” with regards to disciplinein the ranks translated into a reversion of theregular men in the Royal Welch Fusiliers totheir accustomed behaviour while on colonialservice. The “Surrey-man” remarked toRobert Graves, “The Battalion thinks it’s still


in India. The men treat the French civiliansjust like ‘niggers’, kick them about, talk armyHindustani at them” (Graves 126). Both theforces acting upon the enlisted men of theRegular Battalions and the way in which theyreacted to the environment around themreflected an attitude that the emerging warwas really little different from any colonialpolice action or garrison.

Unfortunately, experience soon provedotherwise. As early as the First Battle ofYpres, the 1st Royal Welch Fusiliers becamecasualties nearly to a man (whether killed,wounded, or captured) while resisting aGerman counterattack near Zandvoorde.Among the dead was the battalion’scommanding officer, Lieutenant-ColonelH.O.S. Cadogan (Dudley Ward 95), anotable loss as the majority of the officercasualties in the war were much more junior(predominantly platoon and companycommanders). A year later, at the Battle ofLoos, the First Battalion again performedvaliantly: one of the few units to attacksuccessfully, its soldiers found themselveswithout support or reinforcements and hadto withdraw, suffering 458 casualties, 16 ofwhom were officers. The Second Battalionalso lost 113 casualties in the battle, withboth its commanding officer and adjutantamong the wounded (Dudley Ward 152–54).The First Battalion faced another 500casualties between Loos and the spring of1916 (Graves 194). All of this loss, it shouldbe remembered, took place before the greatmeat grinders of the Somme or Third Ypreshad begun to spin.

Though both of the Regular Battalionswould survive the war as organisational units,and the regiment would eventually swell toinclude 26 battalions, these continual lossesand replacements would have grave effectson the quality and character of thesebattalions, especially the First and Second.These battalions both commanded high levelsof military proficiency and skill in the earlyyears of the war. The expertise of theSecond Battalion, with which FrankRichards3 served, J.C. Dunn4 was attachedas Medical Officer, and Siegfried Sassoon

spent most of his time in France, is betterdocumented than that of the First Battalion,but Robert Graves, who served with bothbattalions, attests that, despite the differencesof social conduct between the two, the Firstwas “as efficient and regimental [as the 2nd

Royal Welch Fusiliers], on the whole evenmore successful in its fighting” (Graves 174).As a whole, the Regular Battalions that set outfor France at the beginning of the war wereoutstanding fighting units. Brigadier-GeneralJ.E. Edmonds unequivocally stated after thewar that, “In every respect the ExpeditionaryForce in 1914 was incomparably the besttrained, best organized, and best equippedBritish Army which ever went forth to war”(qtd. in Spiers 38). The long experience of awar of attrition would erode such razor sharpmilitary effectiveness, however.

THE NEW ARMY

Despite the elite nature of the Royal WelchFusiliers and their successful adaptation toachieve local military supremacy in theunexpected deadlock of trench warfare,constant losses took their toll. Between thestart of the war and the spring of 1916, theSecond Battalion had suffered an averagedrain of ten soldiers per week, leaving it withonly 250 of the Regulars who had crossedthe Channel with the battalion in August1914 (Keegan 225). The average infantrysubaltern on the Western Front lasted aboutsix months before leaving his battalion, eitheras a casualty or for some other reason(Simpson 86–87). Thus the high turnoverrate for junior officers is a bit misleading, asnot all were killed or wounded. Indeed,Siegfried Sassoon noted in January 1917that though only five of the officers who hadbeen with First Battalion at that time theprevious year were still present, few hadbeen killed, and most had “‘faded away’somehow or other” (Infantry Officer 116).Regardless of how the officers left thebattalion, however, the fact remained thattheir disappearance meant fewer regularsoldiers to provide a core for the unit. The


ranks of the First Battalion also sufferedterribly: by the end of 1914 alone, onlybetween 80 and 90 of the men who had leftMalta for France remained (Dudley Ward110). After the horrific bloodshed of theSomme-Scarpe battles of 1916–17, theRegimental Records sombrely note that,“As the old trained soldiers graduallydisappeared, the regiment must take note ofa great change” (Dudley Ward 305). Thatchange was the introduction of the NewArmy Battalions and the replacement ofregular “old hands” with civilian recruits.

The effects of the continual refilling of theRegular Battalions, and their augmentationby Kitchener’s Army, was gradual butprofound. The new drafts that brought theFirst Battalion up to strength in December1914 “were as grimly determined or asindifferent to blows” as the “OldContemptibles” they now fought alongside(Dudley Ward 110–11). Sassoon himself hadbeen posted to the First Battalion in a draftto replace the officer losses from the actionat Festubert in May 1915 (Sassoon,Fox-Hunting Man 319). Frank Richardseven accepted drafts of undersized “Bantam”recruits to the Second Battalion as “goodsoldiers in action” (273) after their 19th

(Bantam) Battalion had been disbanded inDecember 1917 (Dudley Ward 378). In mostcases, however, as the war progressed, thequality of the new drafts (no longer thosepulled from the Special Reserve Battalion,but instead civilian New Army recruits, orworse, conscripts) suffered, and the respectand tolerance of the surviving regular soldiersfor these “duration of the war” soldiersdropped accordingly.

Officer quality was also perceived to havesuffered as the war lengthened. Much of thisdecrease in quality was ascribed to officerrecruiters having to dig deeper into the socialbarrel to replace the junior officers lost onthe Somme. The fact that newly formedOfficer Cadet Battalions began to instructtheir recruits in leadership courses points tothis compromise and a necessary shift awayfrom the traditional officer class (Simpson88). As early as February 1916, J.C. Dunn

notes with regret that in the SecondBattalion, aside from “the CommandingOfficer, Adjutant, and Captain Stanway, theregular officers remaining were too junior tobe regarded as being of the Old Army;temporary officers from the civil populationpredominated . . . ” (qtd. in Dudley Ward160). Many regular officers appreciated thecourage and enthusiasm of these temporaryofficers, but believed that they lacked theprofessionalism and military instinct necessaryfor the efficient handling of their men inemergencies. Resentment increased in LineBattalions as regular officers had to supportthe inexperienced civilian officers. Socialconcerns also showed themselves. Someregular officers looked upon their temporarycounterparts with contempt as a result oftheir breeding. Not only was gentlemanstatus considered necessary for militaryeffectiveness as an officer by the Edwardiansocial standards of the officer corps, but theconduct of these civilians in uniform—suchas public displays of affection—was seen asshockingly unprofessional. Army publicationsreminded temporary officers of the standardsof behaviour that regular officers foundaxiomatic: officers should not smoke apipe in public, be seen with women ofquestionable character, or drink excessively.Moderation was stressed, and these“temporary gentlemen” were also advisednot to spend too much time in cinemas, inbars, or reading books (Simpson 75–77).The authors of such publications also seemedto worry that these officers would neglecttheir men, admonishing them “not to thinkthat [an officer’s] duties end with thedismissal of his platoon after the parade”(Notes for Young Officers qtd. in Simpson77). However, Siegfried Sassoon, while withthe Third (Special Reserve) Battalion atLitherland Camp, noted such socialdifferences between the holders ofcommissions from the Special Reserve (likehis own) and Royal Military Colleges andthose who held temporary ones, and hedismissed these differences as unimportant,deciding that the temporary officers “usuallyturned out to be first-rate officers when they


got to the trenches” (Sassoon, Fox-HuntingMan 314–15). While opinions of theeffectiveness of temporary officers variedthroughout the war, it was clear that theirentry into the army signalled great changesto the traditional social homogeny of theofficer corps and potentially threatened itsmilitary professionalism.

The introduction of the New Armiesbrought similar changes to the ranks andtherefore inspired similar reactions amongRegulars. The Regimental Records state thatin September 1915, “[t]he regiment grew,battalions continued to arrive in France; theArmy passed the million figure; guns couldbe counted by thousands; and the taskbecame increasingly difficult” (Dudley Ward155). This ballooning military expansionwas the necessary reaction to devastatinglosses in the field. Such high turnover rateseven meant that the Regular Battalionsgradually filled with New Army recruits.These were different men from the old“pukka” rankers of the pre-war army. Unlikethe unskilled, unemployed pre-war Regulars,the men of Kitchener’s New Armies heldjobs in the civilian sector, often skilled(Hughes 120). The good behaviour andnaïveté of the religious Welshmen whoanswered David Lloyd George’s call to armscertainly set them apart from the hard-bittenregular soldiers who remained in the LineBattalions. It was also a sign of thepre-Somme stage of the war that when the113th Brigade (made up at first exclusively ofNew Army Battalions of the Royal Welch)was raised in 1915, it experienced frequentmedical discharges (Hughes 117–18).Over-familiarity between NCOs and theirmen was common and had to be frequentlycorrected by officers (Hughes 111). Theoriginal contempt with which the RegularArmy viewed the New was only graduallyand grudgingly modified as New Army unitsdistinguished themselves, and even then didnot totally disappear (Hughes 110–12). Theold soldiers made it very clear to the men ofthe New Army Battalions and thereplacement drafts to the Line that they hadmuch to prove before they would be

considered equal to the well-trained andbattle-hardened Regulars.

Conscription refilled the battalions, butonly compounded the problem of quality.Sassoon (of course coloured by his ownantiwar sentiments) claimed that by early1917, “[t]he War had become undisguisedlymechanical and inhuman. What in earlierdays had been drafts of volunteers were nowdroves of victims” (Infantry Officer 143). Bysummer, J.C. Dunn observed that, as a resultof the influence of the new drafts anddwindling number of old soldiers, thestandards of the Second Battalion came evercloser to those of the Service Battalions.Whereas before raids had been conducted byvolunteers, now such forays into no-man’sland could only be undertaken by detailingmen for the task (Dudley Ward 305). Thesenew drafts (mostly typically short Welshmen)were also in poor physical condition andlacking in training. Even the youngest amongthem had difficulty clearing simple hurdles(Dudley Ward 306). Sassoon’s description ofpushing two stunted recruits along on aSecond Battalion march while towing a thirdon his belt (Infantry Officer 189–90) isdarkly ironic in light of the battalion’s prideon its marching performance during theRetirement in 1914. This dichotomy reflectsthe declining physical standards of therecruitment medical boards. In October andNovember of 1917, 270 eighteen-year-oldboys arrived to replenish the battalion’sstrength. While they were more physically fitthan previous drafts, they were no bettertrained, and almost none remained with thebattalion by April of the next year, thoughthe battalion had not been engaged in theinterim (Dudley Ward 363)—circumstancesthat point heavily toward a high desertionrate among such new recruits. These loweredstandards drew to the regiment increasingnumbers of men judged unfit for servicebefore the war from a shrinking recruitingpool, but such compromises had becomenecessary to fulfil the more important goal ofmaintaining the army’s now massive size.

Poor training and morale also dulled thebattalion’s edge. The lack of pre-war regulars


damaged the ability of the men to operate asinstinctive teams, as the time was notavailable to instruct new volunteers andconscripts how to fight cohesively in smallunits (Graham 26). More basic military skillssuffered as well. Sassoon describes amusketry course in his platoon in 1917:

The depleted Battalion had been strengthenedby a draft from England, and these menwere mostly undersized, dull-witted, andbarely capable of carrying the heavy weightof their equipment. As an example of theirproficiency, I can say that in one caseplatoon training began with the man beingtaught how to load his rifle. Afterwards Ifelt that he would have been less dangerousin his pre-existing ignorance. (InfantryOfficer 180)

The low morale of the battalion (along withthe rest of the British Expeditionary Force) inearly 1918 made itself visible by “aslackening of discipline in the ranks, whichwere now filled with ‘duration-of-the-war’soldiers” (Dudley Ward 385). By late 1917,after the experience of the Somme andThird Ypres, Regular, Territorial, and NewArmy Battalions found themselves at anequal lowest common denominator level ofmilitary proficiency (Simpson 80). Theurgent needs of the Western Front meantthat training standards, as well as recruitingstandards, had to be compromised in orderto fill the ranks in time for the next bigoffensive.

WELCH NATIONALISMThe strains that the war placed on that

regimental esprit de corps simultaneously ledto an increase in the importance of theWelsh character of the regiment. Gravesclaims that in peacetime, though most of theofficers were Anglo-Welshmen, only abouttwo percent of the ranks of the Royal WelchFusiliers actually spoke Welsh (80).Replacement drafts and the raising of theNew Army drastically changed thisdemographic. North Wales had not been avery fruitful recruiting region before the war(Hughes 114), as can be seen by the fact

that many of the Regulars in the regimentwere from Birmingham (Graves 80). A keyreason for the infertility of the North Welshrecruiting grounds was the opposition of thelocal Nonconformist chapels to soldiering, atleast until Lloyd George persuaded themotherwise, presenting the war as a greatCrusade (Graves 80). Lloyd George’sinfluence as Minister of Munitions (and lateras Prime Minister) and, more importantly, asa Welshman, certainly did much to win hisreluctant countrymen over to the Cause.With his encouragement, the tone of chapelministers’ sermons changed, and the ranks ofthese new Welsh units began to fill withNonconformists (Hughes 116–17). The113th Brigade (initially made up exclusivelyof Royal Welch Fusilier battalions), forexample, contained many religious (especiallyNonconformist) men. Before shipping toFrance, the 113th accordingly hadwell-attended chapel services, at least onenon-swearing sergeant-major (certainly ananomaly in any army unit), and wasdescribed as “well behaved” (Hughes 117).The pious nature of these New Army recruitswas accompanied by a strong nationalistictrend. Welsh officers were promised torecruits to entice them to sign up, and,indeed, most of the over 300 officers of the113th Brigade in 1915 were of Welshnationality, and the remainder had Welshconnections through heritage or residence(Hughes 117). However, the Regular Armyresented the nationalistic image of the 38th

(Welsh) Division, seeing it as a politicallymotivated creation of Lloyd George, and itsconstituent battalions faced more hostilitythan normal New Army units. Perhaps as aresult, as the war continued, the proportionof non-Welshmen in the division increasedand the local identities of its battalions weredownplayed (Hughes 120–22). Oddlyenough, however, the opposite trendarose, quite unintentionally, in the SecondBattalion, where, by August 1917, thecontingent of Welshmen had risen from atenth to half of the battalion’s strength as aresult of drafts (Dudley Ward 306). Gravesalso notes that “[a]s much Welsh as English


was now talked in the huts” at Litherland in1916 (206). The replacement andaugmentation of the Regulars of theregiment by New Army recruits had thestrange effect of making the Royal Welchmore “Welsh” than they had been before thewar.

The social character of this altered SecondBattalion also reflects the passing of the OldArmy. When Robert Graves returned to theSecond Battalion after convalescing from awound, he found “a very different SecondBattalion. No riding-school, no BattalionMess, no Quetta manners, no regularofficers, except for a couple of newly arrivedSandhurst boys” (238). In the summer of1917, voluntary congregations for churchservices assembled—rather than having to bedetailed—reflecting the increasingly religiousnature of the regiment’s soldiers (DudleyWard 386). By 1918, the ranks of theSecond Battalion would have been completelyunrecognisable to the ghosts of the men whohad died serving with it in 1914–15.

Despite the loss, over the course of thewar, of most of the officers and men whohad served with the regiment in 1914, theregimental pride and spirit managed tosurvive, to a greater or lesser extent, throughthe Armistice and even spread to the newlyformed Service Battalions. It was a note ofparticular pride that neither Line Battalionever lost a trench during the course of thewar without recapturing it before the close ofthe action (Graves 186). The Royal WelchFusiliers also maintained tradition behind thelines. In October 1916, Second BattalionHeadquarters had acquired a milk goat(ostensibly to uphold regimental tradition asbest as could be done given the conditions)which served the practical purpose ofalerting the officers to approaching airplanesby bleating (Dudley Ward 247). Moreimportantly, March 1, Saint David’s Day,was celebrated throughout the war regardlessof hardship. Toasts were made to SaintDavid (patron saint of Wales), Major TobyPurcell’s spurs,5 and Shenkin ap Morgan,6

while new officers had to eat a leek with onefoot planted on the top of the mess table and

the other on their chairs7 (Graves 86–87),often in extremely makeshift conditions. Thefeeling of regimental pride and belongingthat such traditions engendered was keenlysought by the New Army Battalions as well,to the point at which the very size of theexpanding regiment threatened its espritde corps. Therefore, as noted above,acceptance of these Service Battalions wasonly granted by the Line as they proved theirworthiness of the title of Royal WelchFusiliers (Graves 87). It is a testament to theregimental spirit that such traditions enduredeven in the face of the brutality and attritionof the First World War.

CONCLUSION

These surviving traditions, however, aremuch more the exception than the rule; bythe end of the war very nearly every aspectof the social status quo ante in the RoyalWelch Fusiliers and the British Army hadbeen changed. While the influence of theNew Army had certainly made the BritishExpeditionary Force (BEF) more egalitarianand representative of contemporary Britishsociety, it had also sacrificed much of thetraditional military professionalism of theRegular Army. A fight that had begun todefend the neutrality of Belgium or restrainGerman militarism became a quest to destroynot only the German Army but the Germannation as well. Too many men had died, andtheir passing had produced too manytransformations for the veterans of thearmistice and the casualties of Mons to berecognisable to each other. For the RoyalWelch Fusiliers, the Great War served as thegreat levelling in which the pride andprestige that the regiment had earned sincethe seventeenth century would bleed out inthe mud of Flanders and the chalk of theArtois. Though the regiment served withhonour and distinction throughout the war,and survived as a unit until its amalgamationas the First Battalion of the Royal Welsh in2006, in a way it too was a casualty of theGreat War. Many of the men who servedwith the various battalions of the regiment


recorded poignant memoirs and historiesdocumenting this evolutionary death, andthose works remain classics of militaryhistorical literature today. Collectively, theyprovide a vivid account of the Royal WelchFusiliers and its traumatic and revolutionaryexperience in the Great War.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTSI would not have been able to pursue this

project without the opportunity and fundinggiven me by the Virginia Military Institute’sSummer Undergraduate Research Initiative.Scholarships from the U.S. Army ROTC andthe Virginia Military Institute Honorsprograms also make my continuedenrollment at VMI possible. LieutenantColonel Timothy Dowling generously allowedme to stay at his house over the summer,which gave me a place to live while workingin Lexington. I am also indebted to NilyaCarrato and Dr. Megan Newman of PrestonLibrary for their help in obtaining sourcesboth locally and through Interlibrary Loan.Finally, and most importantly, this projectbenefited from the support of Dr. EricOsborne, who served as my faculty mentor.It was an absolute pleasure to work withsomeone who was not only available forguidance with both the research for andediting of the paper, but who alsosimultaneously inspired and fed off my ownpassion for the subject matter.

NOTES1 Sandhurst and Woolwich are British military

academies, comparable to the United States MilitaryAcademy at West Point.

2 “Tommy Atkins” was an affectionate, generic namefor the British soldier, comparable to “Billy Yank” or“Johnny Reb” in the American Civil War.

3 Frank Richards was a career private of the SecondBattalion. He was one of the few pre-War regulars toserve the duration of the war. He wrote his memoirsof the war in Old Soldiers Never Die with the helpof Robert Graves.

4 Major J.C. Dunn was a Royal Army Medical Officerattached to the Second Battalion. He was a belovedofficer and an adopted member of the Royal WelchFusiliers.

5 Major Toby Purcell was the regimental second–

in-command at the famous Battle of the Boyne. Afterdistinguishing himself in this engagement, hisspurs were handed down through successiveseconds-in-command until the nineteenth century.

6 Shenkin ap Morgan was “The First Gentleman ofWales,” according to Robert Graves, and the subjectof an eponymous song played by the regimentalband.

7 The leek is the symbol of Saint David, patron saint ofWales, and was worn in the caps of medieval Welshsoldiers.

WORKS CITEDCary, A.D.L. and Stouppe McCance, eds. 1816–

1914 (July). Regimental Records of theRoyal Welch Fusiliers (23rd Foot). Vol. 2.London: Forster, 1923.

Dudley Ward, Major C.H., ed. 1914–1918France and Flanders. Regimental Records ofthe Royal Welch Fusiliers (23rd Foot).London: Forster, 1928.

Graham, Dominick. Against Odds: Reflectionson the Experiences of the British Army,1914–45. New York: St. Martin’s, 1999.

Graves, Robert. Good-bye to All That. NewYork: Anchor, 1985.

Hughes, Clive. “The New Armies.” A Nation inArms: A Social Study of the British Army inthe First World War. Eds. Ian F.W. Beckettand Keith Simpson. London: Manchester UP,1985. 100–25.

Keegan, John. The Face of Battle. New York:Barnes, 1976.

Richards, Frank. Old Soldiers Never Die.London: Faber, 1933.

Sassoon, Siegfried. Memoirs of a Fox-HuntingMan. New York: Coward–McCann, 1929.

—— . Memoirs of an Infantry Officer. NewYork: Coward–McCann, 1930.

Simpson, Keith. “The Officers.” A Nation inArms: A Social Study of the British Army inthe First World War. Eds. Ian F.W. Beckettand Keith Simpson. London: Manchester UP,1985. 64–97.

Spiers, Edward M. “The Regular Army in 1914.”A Nation in Arms: A Social Study of theBritish Army in the First World War. Eds.Ian F.W. Beckett and Keith Simpson. London:Manchester UP, 1985. 38–61.

Travers, Timothy. The Killing Ground: TheBritish Army the Western Front and theEmergence of Modern Warfare 1900–1918.London: Allen, 1987.


WORKS CONSULTEDCary, A.D.L. and Stouppe McCance, eds. 1816–

1914 (July). Regimental Records of theRoyal Welch Fusiliers (23rd Foot). Vol. 2.London: Forster, 1923.

Dudley Ward, Major C.H., ed. 1914–1918France and Flanders. Regimental Records ofthe Royal Welch Fusiliers (23rd Foot). Vol. 3.London: Forster, 1928.

Dunn, Major J.C. The War the Infantry Knew1914–1919: A Chronicle of Service inFrance and Belgium with The SecondBattalion His Majesty’s Twenty-third Foot,The Royal Welch Fusiliers. New York:Jane’s, 1987.

Graham, Dominick. Against Odds: Reflectionson the Experiences of the British Army,1914–45. New York: St. Martin’s, 1999.

Graves, Robert. Good-bye to All That. NewYork: Anchor, 1985.

Hughes, Clive. “The New Armies.” A Nation inArms: A Social Study of the British Army inthe First World War. Eds. Ian F.W. Beckettand Keith Simpson. London: Manchester UP,1985. 100–25.

Jones, David. In Parenthesis: Seinnyessit eGledyf Ym Penn Mameu. New York:Chilmark, 1937.

Keegan, John. The Face of Battle. New York:Barnes, 1976.

—— . The First World War. New York: Vintage,1998.

Leed, Eric J. No Man’s Land: Combat andIdentity in World War I. Cambridge:Cambridge UP, 1979.

Liddell Hart and Basil Henry. The British Way inWarfare. New York: Macmillan, 1933.

Prior, Robin and Trevor Wilson. Passchendaele:The Untold Story. New Haven, CT: Yale UP,2002.

Richards, Frank. Old Soldiers Never Die.London: Faber, 1933.

Sassoon, Siegfried. Memoirs of a Fox-HuntingMan. New York: Coward–McCann, 1929.

—— . Memoirs of an Infantry Officer. NewYork: Coward–McCann, 1930.

Simpson, Keith. “The Officers.” A Nation inArms: A Social Study of the British Army inthe First World War. Eds. Ian F.W. Beckettand Keith Simpson. London: Manchester UP,1985. 64–97.

Spiers, Edward M. “The Regular Army in 1914.”A Nation in Arms: A Social Study of theBritish Army in the First World War.Eds. IanF.W. Beckett and Keith Simpson. London:Manchester UP, 1985. 38–61.

Travers, Timothy. The Killing Ground: TheBritish Army the Western Front and theEmergence of Modern Warfare 1900–1918.London: Allen, 1987.


The United States and Pakistan:Allies or Adversaries?

Cadet Andrew E. Timpner

Faculty Mentor: Dr. Jason A. Kirk, Department of International Studies andPolitical Science

ABSTRACTThe volatile US-Pakistan relationship—which has swung wildly from cooperative toconfrontational and back over the course of the Cold War, post-Cold War, and post-9/11periods—has been based on America’s perceived strategic needs in South Asia andPakistan’s perceived utility in fulfilling those needs. For its part, Pakistan has seen the US asa vehicle to improve its security vis-à-vis its stronger neighbor and rival, India. Today,despite significant challenges, there is cause for optimism since it is in both America’s andPakistan’s interests to win the war on terror. For US policymakers, the key to successful,cooperative relations with Pakistan is a long-term, patient, committed (but neveroverbearing) engagement.

Unlike the relationship between theUnited States and India, which was

frozen for the first fifty years, thePakistani-American relationship has resembledtwo unfortunate lovers, alternately passionatelyand deeply involved, and later cold anddistant with a tinge of acrimony. This volatilerelationship, swinging wildly from cooperativeto confrontational, has been based onAmerica’s perceived strategic needs andPakistan’s utility in fulfilling those needs.While America has typically seen Pakistan asa tactical ally (a partner of convenience,rather than a strategic ally to whom itfeels committed for the long term), Pakistanhas generally viewed the United States asa vehicle to improve its security vis-à-visIndia.

THE HISTORICAL CONTEXT

At Pakistan’s founding, it was notapparent that Pakistan would merit theposition of a strategic partner for theUnited States. Immediately followingPakistan’s independence, the United Stateshardly saw it—indeed all of South Asia—as avital strategic concern; America was far toopreoccupied with rebuilding Europe andJapan as bulwarks against Soviet expansionto involve itself in the region. ThoughPresident Liaquat Ali Khan of Pakistan andPrime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru of Indiaboth visited America in 1949, Nehru was byfar the American favorite, and his almostrapturous reception in Washington andacross the country suggested that India was


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America’s favorite new country. During thevisit, however, Nehru assumed such acondescending demeanor and displayed solittle respect for his hosts that his four weektour “generated more irritation than goodwill.” By contrast, Liaquat tried to castPakistan in a forward–looking, anti–communist light (Burke 122–23).1 This anti–communist characterization endeared him tohis hosts, who at the time were revisingAmerican strategy to counter the Soviet threat.

This perception of Pakistan as somechampion of the West within a benightedAsia, when coupled with India’s determinationto pursue a “non-aligned” strategy in theCold War, encouraged American andPakistani elites to see one another as naturalallies. Accordingly, following the Korean Warin 1954, President Eisenhower andSecretary of State John Foster Dulles invitedPakistan to join a Mutual Defense AssistanceAgreement. Added to Pakistan’s accessionlater in the decade to the Central TreatyOrganization (CENTO, with Iraq, Iran,Britain, and Turkey) and the Southeast AsiaTreaty Organization (SEATO, with Australia,New Zealand, Thailand, and Britain),Pakistan became America’s “most allied ally”in Asia (Khan 17).

Though India railed against the Americanalliances with Pakistan, fearing that Pakistanhad invited the Cold War into thesubcontinent, Pakistan was only too eager toavail itself of American military andeconomic aid. Meanwhile, the Soviet Unionmoved to support India, though not asexplicitly as the West supported Pakistan.Thus began a zero-sum game in thesubcontinent in which—not only for theUnited States, but for any nation—goodrelations with Pakistan purchased badrelations with India, and vice versa.

The United States and Pakistan solidifiedtheir reciprocal support and reinforced theiranti–communist stances when, in return forits weapons, the United States was grantedthe right to use a Pakistani airbase nearPeshawar as a starting point for its U-2 spyplane missions over the Soviet Union. On 1May 1960, however, when one of these

planes was shot down, Soviet leader NikitaKhrushchev threatened Pakistan withreprisals. Mohammad Ayub Khan (who hadsucceeded Liaquat as the Pakistani president),was concerned, but had anticipated that,sooner or later, some negative ramificationwould follow Pakistan’s implicit support ofUS anti-Soviet missions. Realizing that theSoviet Union did not want to go to war overthe “U-2 incident” (particularly across theHindu Kush mountain range), the UnitedStates claimed it had launched the planewithout Pakistani knowledge. This assertionwas patently (and obviously) false, but itprovided enough cover for Khrushchev to letPakistan off the diplomatic hook withoutlosing face (Kux 112–113).

Still, the incident encouraged Pakistanis toconsider at what cost came their closerelationship with the United States. Membersof Ayub’s own ruling coterie, especiallyZulfikar Ali Bhutto, thought it prudent todiversify Pakistan’s allies. In particular, theysought to soothe relations with the SovietUnion (Kux 117). Ayub, however, remainedstaunchly anti-Soviet, and his visit to theUnited States cemented Pakistan’s image “asa loyal, if demanding, ally” for America (Kux122).

For its part, India seemed only too eagerto help push the Americans closer toPakistan. For example, India’s delegate tothe United Nations, V. Krishna Menon,launched verbal attacks on the United States.These public criticisms, coupled with India’suncooperative stance on nuclear disarmamentand the status of Berlin, goaded Americanpolicymakers. What shocked the Americanpeople, however, was the Indian militarytakeover of Portuguese Goa in 1961. MostAmericans had considered Indians the heirsto a Gandhian legacy of non-violence (andIndia had capitalized on this perceptionworldwide). The seizure of Goa, therefore,seemed to display Indian hypocrisy. Alreadyconvinced of India’s duplicity (Khan 27),Pakistan worried that if the United Stateswas not willing to stand up for Portugal (aNATO ally), it might not defend Pakistaneither (Kux 121–124).


Despite Pakistan’s positive efforts andIndia’s negative posturing, President John F.Kennedy continued to prefer India toPakistan. Originally seen as dangerous andimmoral under Eisenhower’s and Dulles’sforeign policy, neutralism began to acquirecertain respectability in the United Statesunder Kennedy’s more liberal administration.In addition, India remained popular withAmerican elites despite the military actions inGoa. Following the Sino-Chinese borderclash of 1962 in the remote Himalayas, theUnited States and Great Britain rushed toIndia’s side with military aid—after the warwas already over. This overt Americansupport alarmed Pakistan since India, thoughincapable of threatening China, could veryeasily threaten Pakistan. As Pakistani leaderspointed out, the Chinese could not havebeen planning for a long war of conquestsince they began their assault in October1962, not long before the winter snowswould render the mountain passesimpenetrable. The snows would not onlyblock an Indian counterattack, but they wouldalso prevent the Chinese from going deeperinto India. Regardless, American military aidflowed into India faster than into Pakistan,and Pakistanis feared that at a later time allthat aid would be turned against Pakistan(Kux 131).

This fear proved well-founded. In 1965,India attacked Pakistan in an attempt tosettle forever the question of Kashmir. TheUnited States promptly deserted bothcountries and refused to arm either. Since itwas fundamentally victorious, India waslargely unconcerned with the Americandesertion. Pakistan, however, felt betrayedand therefore began to look for other, morereliable guarantors of its security. ThePeople’s Republic of China was only toohappy to present itself as Pakistan’s new ally.China had long wanted to curtail the rise ofIndia—which it saw as a potential rival forleadership of continental Asia—and apartnership with Pakistan would do just that(Ziring 62). Predictably, this affiliation ruffledfeathers in Washington as it appeared thatPakistan was sacrificing Western solidarity by

associating with the communist Chineseregime (Kux 143). However, Pakistan wasseeking supporters wherever it could findthem, and China (as well as some otherMuslim countries) seemed a more thanpromising candidate.

Despite Washington’s interest in SouthAsia during the 1950s and early 60s, duringthe later 1960s, Pakistan and India became asecondary concern of the United States asthe war in Vietnam escalated. Ironically,though it was totally uninvolved in the warexcept to lend verbal support to the fightagainst the spread of communism, Pakistanproved pivotal in ending it. While Kennedyand later Johnson had criticized Pakistan’sties with China, President Richard Nixon waseager to exploit them. Islamabad providedthe critical “back door” to China forKissinger’s secret mission to Beijing toprepare the way for Nixon’s subsequent statevisit. This visit ultimately led to Chinesesupport for ending the Vietnam War. Inreturn for its help in bringing the NorthVietnamese to the negotiating table, theUnited States supported Pakistan during theIndo-Pakistani war of 1971 (Hanhimäki155). Nixon even sent the USS Enterpriseand her carrier battle group to the Bay ofBengal in a gesture of support, though it didnot prevent the Pakistanis from losing notonly the war but also East Pakistan (nowBangladesh). Even so, this limited militaryassistance was provocative enough to driveIndia deeper into the arms of the SovietUnion with whom Prime Minister IndiraGandhi signed a twenty-year treaty offriendship (Hanhimäki 164).

During the later 1970s, as the UnitedStates turned inward and Pakistan fell underanother military dictatorship led by GeneralZia ul-Haq, relations between the twocountries floundered. The new Americanpresident, James Carter, pressed Pakistan todemocratize and to respect human rights.Carter put teeth in his policy when hesuspended aid in order to induce thePakistanis to curtail their nuclear program.Initiated under Prime Minister Zulfikar AliBhutto (who pledged that Pakistan would

Timpner / The United States and Pakistan 37

“eat grass” if it had to in order to afford anuclear arsenal), the weapons program wasin part a response to the breakup of Pakistaninto Pakistan and Bangladesh in 1971, inpart a response to India’s “peaceful” nucleartest in 1974, and in part a realization that itcould never match India in conventionalforces (Jones 187). The new policy pushedPakistan—paranoid of India as ever—closerto China and to the rest of the Muslim world.After the mullahs of Iran toppled the Shah,Reza Muhammad Pahlevi—a key Americanally and fellow member of CENTO—theUnited States made no effort to help him.Consequently, Pakistan felt the alliance wasmeaningless, and followed Iran out ofCENTO (Kux 235–37).

The Soviet invasion of Afghanistan in1979, however, reversed the decline inUS-Pakistani relations almost overnight.Frightened of a possible Soviet invasionitself, the Pakistani government realized thattheir country could not defend itself againstthe Soviet Union alone, that India wouldhardly rush to the aid of its neighbor for thesake of subcontinental unity, and that itneeded American support. America, eager todeal the Soviets a defeat, saw opportunitybeyond the Hindu Kush. Islamabad’s envoysinstantly became the most fêted inWashington, and they knew they now hadbargaining power as the only possiblepartner in an American response to theinvasion. Their challenge was to extract themaximum aid with the minimum conditions,and somehow assure that Pakistan did notwind up facing the Russians alone.

Initially, the Pakistani negotiators were notimpressed with American offers. Carteroffered $300 million in US assistance, whichZia dismissed as “peanuts” (Kux 248).Waiting for the expected ascendancy ofRonald Reagan in America, Zia walked outof discussions with the Carter administration.He was not disappointed. In 1981, Reagansweetened the American pot to $3.2 billionover five years and threw in forty F-16fighter jets. Pakistan, for its part, was eagerto do business with Reagan, but also wishedto remain in the non-aligned movement to

which it had recently been admitted.Secretary of State Alexander Haig assuredZia that the Pakistanis could remain in themovement as long as they did not test anuclear weapon (Kux 257).

Thus began a long period of US-Pakistanicooperation. The Americans suppliedintelligence, weapons, and money to thePakistani Inter Services Intelligence agency(ISI) under the auspices of the CIA, and thePakistanis trained and equipped AfghanMujahideen fighters who then returned toAfghanistan to fight the Soviets. InSeptember 1986, the United States evenintroduced Stinger anti-air, shoulder-firedmissiles to the Afghans to counter Soviethelicopter gunship attacks against which theAfghans were defenseless. Meanwhile, Zia,who pursued a policy of militant Islamizationin Pakistan, saw to it that the Mujahideenfighters his country trained were sufficientlyIslamized as well. Creating holy warriors, hesought to defeat the Soviet Union andsupport Muslim solidarity in a single stroke(Abbas 113).

Though the United States remained largelyoblivious of Zia’s militarizing policies athome, Congress sought to exert somecontrol over a foreign policy that it fearedwas being coordinated by the White Houseand the CIA and was escaping publicscrutiny. In response, Congress passed thePressler amendment. According to thisamendment, the Pakistanis would receiveAmerican aid annually only after the USpresident certified that Pakistan did not havea credible nuclear program (Kux 277). From1986 (the year it was passed) until 1990 (theyear after the final withdrawal of Sovietforces from Afghanistan), the Reagan andthe George H.W. Bush administrations madethe required certification. In 1990, however,upon receiving CIA reports of the alarmingstatus of Pakistan’s nuclear program, theBush administration determined it could nolonger make the required certification. Itnotified the Pakistanis and warned themagainst pursuing nuclear weapons, but to noavail. Pakistan denied its nuclear capabilitiesand denounced Pressler. It seems the


American administration was genuinelydisappointed at having to cease support forPakistan, but that obtained it no good will inPakistan. Pakistan saw that the Soviets hadwithdrawn from Afghanistan, so the UnitedStates once again had no further need ofPakistan (Kux 307, 310). As ZalmayKhalilzad explained in a contemporaryarticle, the US only became involved inSouth Asia when it was threatened byoutside powers (Khalilzad 417). To Pakistan,this inconsistency made America seem like avery fickle ally.

While America simply ignored Pakistanduring the early 1990s, Pakistan tried toovercome the strictures of the Pressleramendment. Without American aid,Islamabad was forced to allocate anincreasing share of its budget to finance itsdebt and its military, until by April 1996,those two budget items consumed 81% of itsexpenditures (Rashid 159). During the FirstGulf War, Pakistan was divided betweensupporting Saddam Hussein’s Iraq simply aspayback to the United States, and supportingits close ally Saudi Arabia, which would alignit with America. In the end, Prime MinisterNawaz Sharif overcame military objectionsand swung Pakistan’s vote behind the Saudisand their American allies. Though defendingSaudi Arabia—a long-time Pakistani ally—was his public rationale, Sharif also hopedthat Pakistani support would conjure goodwilltoward Pakistan in the United States,especially in the Pentagon, which remained avocal advocate of its erstwhile ally. Still, inthe words of Pakistani ambassador to theUnited States Abida Hussein, “In thepost-Cold War era, the United States ’hadabout as much interest in Pakistan asPakistan had in the Maldives’” (qtd. in Kux312–15). This comparison was not entirelyaccurate, since Pakistani efforts to supportterrorist “freedom fighters” in Kashmirbrought US threats to designate Pakistan asa terrorist state. Pakistan backed down in theface of the American threat, but remainedbitter (Kux 316).

Meanwhile, the Pakistani nuclear programcontinued apace. Led by Abdul Qadeer

Khan, a Pakistani who had worked inEuropean nuclear laboratories, the programreceived significant Chinese support even asKhan proceeded to farm out nucleartechnology to the highest bidder. His clientsincluded Libya, Iran, and North Korea. WithWashington’s attention directed elsewhere (tothe Balkans) and with Congress distracted bydomestic scandal, little notice was taken ofPakistan’s continuing efforts to possess anuclear arsenal (Haqqani 261, 309).

India, too, was intent on increasing itsnuclear capabilities. In May 1998, India testedhalf a dozen nuclear devices underground inits Thar Desert. In spite of massive pleadingfrom the entire international community,Pakistan reciprocated two weeks later. Sharifproclaimed, “Today, we have settled scoreswith India. We have paid them back” (qtd. inAhmed 407). Citing the Indian nuclear testand subsequent threat to Kashmir, Pakistanclaimed it felt as though it had to test its ownweapons. Sharif and his advisors believedthat they could count on Western disunity toprevent sanctions (or at least terriblyrestrictive sanctions), on the support of theMuslim world, and on Pakistan’s strategicgeography for the West (Ahmed 408).Though these expectations were initiallyborne out, the world community provedmore trenchant in its criticism than thePakistanis expected, leveling numeroussanctions on both India and Pakistan. Inaddition, President Bill Clinton and ChinesePremier Jiang Zemin severely criticized Indiaand Pakistan in a joint statement fromBeijing (Talbott 91).

After leveling sanctions, however, therewas little the United States could do. It wasnot about to go to war to eliminate eithercountry’s nuclear arsenal, and neither did ithave sufficient clout to induce either nationto give up its weapons. It was forced to sitand wait. During this period, it looked asthough both sides might be willing tocompromise.2 For example, Sharif invitedIndian Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayeeto Lahore to discuss cooperation andcross-border traffic, a major step forward.

The “Spirit of Lahore,” however, was not


to last. In late 1999, Pakistani militantspenetrated the Line of Control—the boundaryseparating Indian- and Pakistani-heldKashmir—and seized three mountain peaks.The Indian response was swift and decisive.Both nations massed conventional forces onthe border. Some units actually engaged insustained combat. Sharif realized he wasquickly losing control of the situation andpleaded for Western intervention. There wasnone. Although his generals told him themilitary situation was not grave, he did notbelieve them (Musharraf 97). On 4 July1999, Sharif arrived in the United States tobeg President Clinton (the one man who heldany influence with both sides) to intervene(Musharraf 95). Intervene he did, anddecidedly on the side of India. Clintonvirtually demanded that Sharif withdraw hisforces and return to the “Lahore process.” Ifhe did not, he was told that Washingtonwould withhold an International MonetaryFund loan of $100 million to Pakistan, whichwould result in a crippling blow to thePakistani economy (Chardar 215). In theend, Sharif acceded to most of Clinton’smajor demands. Clinton telephonedVajpayee in India to brief him on thesituation personally (Talbott 168).3 In thewords of Jaswant Singh, the US stand onKargil was “both a recognition of thecorrectness of India’s case and the folly ofPakistan’s misadventure. It [was] recognition,too, of the altering geostrategic [sic] contoursin the region” (Chardar 217). Pakistan onceagain felt betrayed by the United States,even though American diplomats tried hardto paint the situation as one of evenhandedarbitration (Chardar 219). Yet Pakistan didnot see it that way; neither did India.

In the last year of his administration,Clinton spent only five hours in Pakistan butspent five days in India while on a state visit.While in Islamabad, as a guest of the newmilitary dictator Pervez Musharraf, Clintonadmonished the Pakistanis to control theirnuclear weapons and to deal harshly withterrorists in their Northwest FrontierProvince—particularly a terrorist leader bythe name of Osama bin Laden. It was clear

that the United States was tilting ever moretoward India, and that Pakistan had either toradically reform itself, or to seek friendselsewhere.

Following the attacks on the United Stateson 11 September 2001, the pressure onPakistan only mounted. The nine-month-oldadministration of George W. Bush handedPakistan an ultimatum: Secretary of StateColin Powell himself spoke to Musharraf on12 September 2001 and informed him that“You are either with us or against us.” Incase the point was lost, Deputy Secretary ofState Richard Armitage threatened the headof the ISI, claiming that if Pakistan sidedagainst the United States it should “beprepared to be bombed back into the stoneage” (Musharraf 201). This Manichaeandemand fell harshly on Pakistani ears. EvenMaleeha Lodhi (the Pakistani Ambassador tothe United States who had previouslyexpressed admiration for the Bushadministration’s forward–looking strategicmindset over the previous administration’sconcern for human-interest diplomacy), feltthe “with-us-or-against-us” approach was areversion to an earlier, Cold War mentality(Mann 299–300). During that war, Pakistanhad been “with” the United States, “against”the Soviet Union. Now, Pakistan was forcedto choose between the United States and theTaliban (whom Islamabad had propped up)as well as vast segments of its ownpopulation. Many Pakistani officials felt thatthe United States was failing to recognize thecomplexity of the situation it faced.

Musharraf realized that if Pakistan sidedagainst the United States, it would bedefeated militarily, that it needed USeconomic assistance desperately, and that itcould not muster a united front against theAmericans if it came down to it, givendivided loyalties within Pakistan’s intelligenceand security services and across the country’sdiverse provinces (Mann 202). Following thatquick bit of strategic calculus, Musharrafproceeded to make Pakistan an almostindispensable part of America’s “War onTerror.” Initially, Pakistan tried to use itsresidual influence with the Taliban—a regime


it helped to establish in Afghanistan—thenallowed the United States to use its airspaceto conduct strikes when that regime failed toyield bin Laden to the Americans (Mann211). Since then, the story of the UnitedStates and Pakistan has been one of the USpressuring the Pakistanis to open theirpolitical system to democracy while extractingthe maximum cooperation from them in theWar on Terror and of the Pakistanis insistingon American economic aid.

The United States, however, has beenslow to give the aid that Pakistan sodesperately needs. In 2003, the UnitedStates requested that Pakistan send groundforces to fight alongside the Americans inIraq. Predictably, Musharraf refused. Hebelieved his regime would be doomed if itsent troops to fight in another Muslimcountry on behalf of the Americans.Furthermore, many Pakistanis alreadybelieved that the renewed friendship ofconvenience was not paying the expecteddividends. According to Central Command’sown estimates, from October 2001 toOctober 2002, Pakistan had lost $10 billionin tourism, investment, damages to civilaviation, and rising insurance rates. PresidentG. W. Bush responded to these losses with a$3 billion aid package spread over threeyears (Abbas 229–31). Still, the “Pakistanion the street” saw America as terribly unjust(Abbas 237). Even after the United Statessupplied Chinook helicopters as part of itsrelief effort following the earthquake thatstuck northern Pakistan on 8 October 2005,Pakistanis remained deeply suspicious ofAmerica, which they saw as terriblycapricious. However, Musharraf personallyhad seen his support of the Americans payoff significantly in 2002, when hesingle-handedly amended the Pakistaniconstitution to allow him to remain in officefor another five years and to dissolveParliament at will (Mann 300). The gulfbetween Musharraf’s own view of theAmerica alliance and the perceptions ofmany ordinary Pakistanis would also begin toundermine his own popularity, even as hisconstitutional “reforms” threatened to tarnish

whatever liberal credentials he might earlierhave claimed.

WHY ARE THEY SOSUSPICIOUS OF US?

Paraphrasing Fareed Zakaria’s question ofIslamist terrorists, what is it about the UnitedStates that Pakistan finds so untrustworthy?Neither country has been particularlydishonest in its dealings with the other. TheUnited States never promised to defendPakistan in the event of an Indian invasion,neither has it actively helped India to takeover Pakistan—which India could do handilyeven without direct American militarysupport. In spite of the suspicious timing ofdecertifying Pakistan according to the rulesestablished by the Pressler amendment, theUnited States gave Pakistan ample warningthat it ran the risk of forcing the Americans’hands in this matter. Besides, theamendment itself was hardly secret.

So why are Pakistanis so distrustful ofAmerica? Perhaps one explanation lies inPakistan’s position as the first major countrywhose identity was based solely on a religionto emerge during the massive decolonizationfollowing World War II. Many in the Westwere suspicious of this communal religiousidentity and acted as though Pakistan weresome sort of mistake, a step-brother of India,which was the “legitimate” successor to theBritish Raj (Burke 116). India certainly sawthe situation this way and sought topromulgate this opinion worldwide. TheUnited States in particular saw in India areincarnation of its own revolution againstBritish control (Burke 116).

Pakistan was an anomaly, and proving thatit was emphatically not India became anational obsession. For this reason, controllingKashmir became central to Pakistan’sidentity. If a majority-Muslim state wereallowed to remain in Hindu India, then itwould give the lie to Pakistan’s self-conceptionof itself as the homeland of thesubcontinent’s Muslims. Americans, unusedto such a religion-based identity, find it hardto understand that Pakistan does not feel it


can compromise over Kashmir, or it will losemuch of the reason for its existence. Hence,US willingness to bargain with India overKashmir not only irritates Pakistanis, but cutsat their very essence.

As many Pakistanis see it, if Kashmir wereto be conceded to India, it would furtherundermine their country’s founding identityas the state that should contain thesubcontinent’s majority-Muslim areas—aprinciple already badly damaged by the lossof Bangladesh—but it would be one stepcloser to an even greater Pakistani fear:being reabsorbed into India. In actuality, thisabsorption might be an economic plus forthe Pakistani people, since the Indianeconomy is far outperforming their own, butit would also be a communal disaster. Riots,violence, and bloodshed would probablydwarf that seen in 1947 when the two stateswere partitioned.

Another aspect of the Pakistani identitycomplex, less explicit than simply not beingIndian, is the delicate balance it has triedto maintain between its Islamic identity—indeed its reason for being—and its desireto be seen as progressive and (almost)Western. Less than a month after Pakistaniindependence, Muhammad Ali Jinnah (thefather of Pakistan) declared in a cabinetmeeting that “Pakistan [is] a democracyand communism does not flourish in thesoil of Islam. It [is] clear therefore that ourinterests [lie] more with the two greatdemocratic countries, namely, the UK andthe US [sic], rather than with Russia” (qtd. inKux 20). Though for most of its historyPakistan has not been a democracy, it hasgenerally still sought to align itself with theWest, particularly against Soviet expansion.Its partnership with China can probably beexplained by the fact that China has neverdesired to sweep through the Khyber Passnor to conquer any of the subcontinent,much less Pakistan. This partnership is amarriage of convenience, since both nationswant to restrict the rise of Indian power.

Nevertheless, Pakistan (and particularly thegovernments of Ayub Khan, Zia ul-Haq, andPervez Musharraf) cooperated with the West

against Soviet communism and later Islamistterrorism. That it has continued to do so inthe face of tremendous opposition fromwithin Pakistan shows a remarkablecommitment to gradual westernization.4

Musharraf outlines his vision of “enlightenedmoderation” as a world in which Islamicnations reject terrorism and extremism andthe Western world resolves its differenceswith Islam. Naturally, the Israeli-Palestinianconflict and a (favorable) resolution ofKashmir are key elements of this proposition(Musharraf 298).5

At the same time that Pakistan wants tobe seen—and in certain ways to act—as amodern, westernizing state, it must balancethat desire with its Islamic identity. Beginningwith the government of Zia ul-Haq, thestate supported a program of Islamicfundamentalism. The Mujahideen that weretrained in Pakistan were thoroughly Islamized.At home, Zia’s Islamization methods includedsupport for extremist Islamic madrassastaught by radical mullahs from the NorthwestFrontier Province. Abroad, Pakistan hassought to win the confidence of its Islamicneighbors Iran and the Gulf States—especially Saudi Arabia, the home offundamentalist Wahhabi Islam. The fact thatPakistan is now engaged in a struggle tosnuff out these extremist elements, and thatPakistan finds itself on the side of the UnitedStates in this struggle, is deeply disturbing tomany Pakistanis, and goes a long way toexplain their ambivalence toward workingwith the United States.

FUTURE US-PAKISTAN RELATIONS

One of the difficulties facing currentPakistani and American diplomats is the factthat other than shoring up the Pakistanigovernment itself against domesticextremism, the two nations have very fewlong-term strategic interests in common. Tobegin with, Pakistan has yet to determine foritself whether it is to be an Islamic theocracylike Iran or to be a relatively secular state likeTurkey. As it is now, not only does


Islamabad have close links with certainterrorist groups, but many analysts speculatethat the situation in Pakistan closelyresembles that of Afghanistan immediatelyprior to the rise of the Taliban (Hardar 114).For instance, Pakistan has failed to shutdown extremist groups such as Jama’at ud–Dawa and Lashkar-i-Taiba and the madrassasthey support (Ayres 153). Only oncePakistan has fully committed to domesticsecularism will it be able to wholly supportthe American-led global war on terror. And,as Melissa Dell points out, Pakistaniparticipation in the war on terror will becritical to winning it (111). Nevertheless,Pakistanis resent American support ofmilitary regimes (such as Musharraf’s) thatWashington counts on to limit fundamentalistinfluence (Cohen 132).

Against this resentment, Musharraf hassought to present himself as all that standsbetween order and chaos in Pakistan inorder to secure American support. This claimhas many supporters in Washington whobelieve that if Musharraf were to fall or if freeelections were held, the successor regimewould be much worse for American interests.According to Sumit Ganguly, however, theIslamabad regime is not as fragile as it wouldlike Westerners to think (147–50). It can andmust withstand more pressure to deal with itsinternal demons if the United States andIndia are to feel secure. Without theirsecurity, there can be no long-term securityfor Pakistan.

The Pakistanis’ choice either to descendinto religious extremism and violence or totake the Turkish road to secularism andrelative westernization will determine theircountry’s short-term relationship with theUnited States. Its long-term relationship,however, will be heavily influenced by itsdependence upon what Musharraf calledPakistan’s “time-tested” friend: China(Musharraf 307). If, as many analysts predict,China emerges as the preeminent threat towestern and particularly American interests inAsia or even worldwide, Islamabad’s relationswith Beijing will almost certainly determineits relations with a defensive Washington.

Still, Pakistan might feel inclined to sidewith America in the event of US-Chinatensions if for no other reason than that adistant hegemony is preferable to a local oneand that Pakistan now has no need forChinese technical expertise to build anatomic bomb. But Pakistanis might also bereluctant to join any partnership that benefitsIndia. With the growing rapprochement inIndo-American affairs, Pakistan is bound tofeel squeezed out in a transoceanic embracebetween New Delhi and Washington. AsCohen points out, playing the middle manwould not be an entirely unfamiliar positionfor Washington, which faced a similarsituation with NATO members Greece andTurkey. But, as Cohen also points out, unlikethe prevailing situation on the subcontinent,at the time of their accession to NATO,neither Greece nor Turkey had nuclearweapons, nor had they fought a war againstone another in recent memory (Cohen 133).It remains to be seen whether China willprove threatening enough to both countriesto force them into an awkward entente.China, however, shows no inclination to bethat menacing. Feeling threatened by India’srise and resenting Indian pretensions toleadership in Asia, China has meticulouslydeveloped ties with many of the Indochinesestates—and Pakistan specifically—to stuntIndian growth. In a strategy termed “strategicencirclement,” China seeks to bog downIndian progress by propping up local statesagainst India (Frankel and Harding 138–139).

Ironically this Chinese strategy givesPakistan the strategic significance it believesit has vis-à-vis the West. Its role in Chinesestrategy far outshines its role in Americanstrategic calculations, something that isbecoming increasingly apparent to thePakistani leadership, which for decadesoverestimated its strategic value to theWestern powers. Furthermore, thoseWestern powers, it believed, were incorrigiblyprejudiced against Pakistan as a Muslimcountry. As mentioned earlier, Pakistanis findit offensive that the Pressler Amendment wasaimed specifically at them while mandating


no similar sanctions upon India (Kux 310).Musharraf probably spoke for mostPakistanis when he defended Abdul QadeerKhan, the primary engineer behindPakistan’s so-called “Islamic” nuclear bombwhen he wrote, “No one else’s bomb iscalled Hindu, Jewish, Christian, capitalist, orcommunist, yet somehow our bomb becomes‘Islamic’ as if that makes it illegitimate”(Musharraf 287).

In spite of the talk of bombs andextremism, however, there is cause foroptimism for the United States and Pakistan.It is in both countries’ interests to win theWar on Terror, even if, for Pakistan, it has afar larger internal dimension than the UnitedStates originally estimated. There is alsocause for hope that Kashmir, for so long aspectral presence in Pakistani diplomacy,may be resolved. India dearly wants apermanent seat on the United Nations SecurityCouncil. In exchange for Washington’ssupport in obtaining it, New Delhi might bewilling to cede enough of Kashmir to mollifyPakistan without upsetting Indian nationalistsat home (Cohen 295).

In a more arcane fashion, Pakistan couldreprise the role it played in 1971 when itsties to China proved useful to the UnitedStates. Poorly managed though it is, Pakistanlooks like a model nuclear-armed client-statefor China when compared to North Korea.In concert with the West, Pakistan could bethe key to induce Beijing to take a harderline toward Pyongyang. Especially if it canmake the Chinese leadership see that itsinterests lie in engagement with the rest ofAsia and not in confrontation on itsNortheast frontier, Pakistan might convinceChina to seek a quick solution to its NorthKorean problem. The relations establishedthis way might prove useful should theUnited States need a back-channel,third-party country in order to relax anytension that may arise over the status ofTaiwan. Furthermore, a secure Pakistan thatis confident in American backing and thatabandons its paranoia over India (thusfreeing it from the need to kowtow to China)would allow India to play a stronger role in

balancing China. Most of these strategiesrepresent foreign policy under nearlylaboratory conditions; still, it shows thatPakistan is far from irrelevant in theAmerican strategic calculus in Asia andbeyond.

This grand strategy, however unlikely,would be in the long-term interests ofPakistan. Since its creation in 1947, it hasbeen forced by circumstances to devote ahuge proportion of its resources to defenseand security. If it felt reasonably confidentthat it could redirect some of that fundingfrom the military to domestic improvements,Pakistan could dramatically increase thequality of life of its population.6 It would alsobe in the best interests of the United States.America must never again forget Pakistan asit has so many times in its past. The key tosuccessful, cooperative relations with Pakistanis long-term, patient, committed (but neveroverbearing) engagement.

NOTES1 Nehru had said that while to the West, the issue of

the day was communism, “to us, it is colonialism.”2 On the Pakistani side, this made sense; they had

settled the score as far as they were concerned: whynot use their new-found equality with India tomaximum advantage? From the Indian perspective,the Pakistani tests had been a total shock, soberingIndians from the euphoria surrounding their ownnuclear tests (Talbott 73).

3 Jaswant Singh, Talbott’s counterpart in thebehind-the-scenes negotiations over India’s atomicprogram, claimed that India had realized that theUnited States had stood firmly on its side, and thatIndians would not forget this.

4 There have, after all, been at least two attempts onthe life of President Musharraf.

5 Musharraf goes on to say, “I have tried to get awayfrom Pakistan’s Indocentric approach to relationswith other countries. China remains our time-testedand sincere friend, irrespective of its developingeconomic relations with India. We are simultaneouslydeveloping broad-based and long-term relations withthe United States, free from the effects of thewarming up of relations between India and theUnited States.” It would seem that he still has a longway to go in abandoning the “Indocentric” approachsince most of his subsequent assertions involve India(307–08).

6 According to Alyssa Ayres, until 1990, the Pakistaniand Indian economies grew at the same rate. After


the US invoked the Pressler amendment, thePakistani economy imploded, debt skyrocketed, andfinances went to service it and to the military ratherthan internal economic improvements (155). Thisforgets that Indian market reforms took place at thesame time, thus accentuating the economic disparitybetween the two states, but that essentially leaves herargument untouched.

WORKS CITEDAbbas, Hassan. Pakistan’s Drift Into Extremism:

Allah, the Army, and America’s War onTerrorism. Armonk: M.E. Sharpe, 2005.

Ahmed, Samina. “The (Nuclear) Testing ofPakistan,” Current History 97.623 (1998):407–11.

Ayres, Alyssa. “Musharraf’s Pakistan: A Nation onthe Edge,” Current History 103.672 (2004):151–57.

Burke, Samuel M. Pakistan’s Foreign Policy: AnHistorical Analysis. London: Oxford UP,1973.

Chardar, D. Suba. “Role of the United States:Mediator or Mere Facilitator?” Kargil: TheTables Turned. Major General Ashok Krishna& P.R. Chari, Eds. New Delhi: Manohar,2001.

Cohen, Stephen Philip. “America and Pakistan: Isthe Worst Case Avoidable?” Current History104.680 (2005):131–36.

—— . India: Emerging Power. Washington D.C.:Brookings, 2001.

Dell, Melissa. “The United States Should TreatPakistan as an Ally Against Terrorism.” Indiaand Pakistan: Opposing Viewpoints. WilliamDudley, Ed. Farmington Hills: Greenhaven,2003.

Frankel, Francine and Harry Harding, Eds. TheIndia-China Relationship: What the United

States Needs to Know. New York: ColumbiaUP, 2004.

Ganguly, Sumit. “Pakistan: the Other RogueNation,” Current History 103.672 (2004):147–50.

Hanhimäki, Jussi. The Flawed Architect: HenryKissinger & American Foreign Policy.Oxford, England: Oxford UP, 2004.

Hardar, Leon. “The United States Should NotTreat Pakistan as an Ally Against Terrorism.”India and Pakistan: Opposing Viewpoints.William Dudley, Ed. Farmington Hills:Greenhaven, 2003.

Haqqani, Husain. Pakistan: Between Mosqueand Military. Washington, D.C.: CarnegieEndowment for International Peace, 2005.

Jones, Owen Bennett. Pakistan: Eye of theStorm. New Delhi: Viking Penguin, 2002.

Khalilzad, Zalmay. “The United States in SouthAsia,” Current History 88.542 (1989): 417–20.

Khan, Mohammad Ayub. Pakistan Perspective.Washington, D.C.: Embassy of Pakistan,1965.

Kux, Dennis. The United States and Pakistan1947–2000: Disenchanted Allies.Washington, D.C.: Johns Hopkins UP, 2001.

Musharraf, Pervez. In the Line of Fire: aMemoir. New York: Free P, 2006.

Rashid, Ahmed. “Pakistan: Trouble Ahead,Trouble Behind,” Current History 95.600(1996): 158–64.

Talbott, Strobe. Engaging India: Diplomacy,Democracy, and the Bomb. Washington,D.C.: Brookings, 2004.

Ziring, Lawrence. The Ayub Khan Era: Politicsin Pakistan 1958–1969. Syracuse: SyracuseUP, 1971.


The Effects of Aromatase Inhibitor4-hydroxyAndrostenedione and

Estrogen Replacement Therapy on theDevelopment of Sensory-Motor

Functions in the Zebrafish

Cadet Bryan P. Nelson

Faculty Advisor: Dr. James E. Turner, Departments of Biology and Chemistry

ABSTRACTThe steroid hormone estrogen plays an important role in the development of the centralnervous system (CNS). Zebrafish have served as an excellent model to test the role ofestrogen on the developing nervous system. The purpose of this study was to determine theeffect of estrogen on zebrafish sensory-motor behavioral maturation in the CNS. In theseexperiments the aromatase inhibitor (AI) 4-hydroxyandrostenedione (4-OH-A), which blocksestrogen synthesis, was used to diminish the effects of estrogen on the maturation of thedeveloping zebrafish CNS. During multiple AI treatments the zebrafish were observed forthe failure of numerous and identifiable neurological sensory-motor (S-M) deficits. Thesebehaviors included tactile responses, spontaneous swimming movements, vestibularbehavior, pectoral fin movement, and eye motion. During the initial 72–124 hourdevelopmental time period, none of these S-M behaviors were expressed when 4-OH-A wasadministered at concentrations ranging from 5.0–10.0 × 10−5 M. This AI–induced S-Mdeficit is called ‘listless’ due to the absence of S-M functions. Furthermore, when the AI wasremoved from the treatment medium the normal S-M behaviors resumed over a two to threeday time period. In addition, when AI and physiological levels of estrogen (10−6,−8 M) wereadded simultaneously, there was a stimulation of developmental appearance in all S-Mparameters measured and fish also survived for longer periods of time. Therefore, thesestudies have demonstrated that the presence of estrogen in the early developing zebrafishembryo is necessary for the proper expression of several critical nervous system SMbehaviors that indicate normal CNS development. In turn, these findings present a suitablemodel for the study of the mechanisms of estrogen’s effects on the development ofbrainstem, spinal cord, and retinal circuitry related to the maturation of these S-Mphenomena.

INTRODUCTION

Estrogen has long been known to controlreproductive functions and now recently

estrogen has been shown to possess additionalroles (Krishnan & Brann 2002). Indeed, it isnow recognized that brain-derived estrogen iscrucial to central nervous system (CNS)


49

development since its synthesis and receptorshave been well established in both male andfemale brain tissue of many species includinghumans (Krishnan & Brann 2002). Thisestrogen response system is exhibited in partby the presence of estrogen synthesisenzyme (aromatase) which has been localizedin numerous brain areas. Most significantly,estrogens have been found to influenceneuronal differentiation, neuronal cellmigration, survival, death, and synapticplasticity (Beyer 1999). In adults, estrogenhas been shown to improve memory,prevent the onset of Alzheimer’s disease,block apoptosis, enhance recovery fromischemia, and to have antioxidant capabilitiesin the brain (McEwen & Alves 1999). Duringbrain development aromatase levels havebeen found to gradually increase in a numberof brain nuclei and subsequently peak aroundbirth (Beyer 1999). Such a peak suggeststhat there would be a critical period in whichestrogens and aromatase would play a vitalrole in the development of the maturingbrain circuitry (Beyer 1999). In addition,estrogen has been reported to be involvedwith the maturation of motor behaviors (Beatty& Holzer 1978) and the electrophysiologicalfunctions of neurons (McEwen & Alves 1999).

Estrogen is synthesized in the body fromprecursor androgens such as testosteroneand androstenedione by an enzyme calledaromatase (Harda et al. 1999). Specifically,aromatase is found in the zebrafish preopticand hypothalamic regions of the CNS whichplay a role in sexual differentiation (Callard etal. 2001). Zebrafish contain two genes thatconvert androgens into estrogens viaaromatase. These two genes are cyp19a andcyp19b and when transcribed and translatedform the two enzymes cytochrome P450aromaA, localized in the ovary, andcytochrome P450 aromaB, localized in thebrain, respectively (Callard et al. 2001).Estrogen synthesis in mammalian models hasalso been found to not only originate fromthe gonads but from local sources in cerebralvasculature and brain glial cells (Krause et al.2006).

Aromatase has been found in other areas

of the brain besides the hypothalamicpreoptic areas, suggesting that aromataseand the resultant estrogen might be used forspecific brain development and functionsother than sexual differentiation (Bardet et al.2002; Krishnan & Brann 2002; Meneut etal. 2002). Specifically, it is thought thatestrogen plays an important role in neuralgrowth and plasticity in neurogenesis inteleost fish (Beyer 1999). It is interesting tonote that zebrafish and goldfish, bothteleosts, have a high amount of aromataselocated within their brains, of an order ofmagnitude 100–1000 fold greater than thatof mammals (Callard et al. 2001).Postulations have been made that it is thislarge amount of estrogen that helps damagedzebrafish successfully regenerate portions ofthe brain, spinal cord, and eye after beingdamaged (Callard et al. 2001).

Aromatase inhibitors compromise aromataseenzyme activity. Specifically, the inhibitorsbind to the aromatase enzyme active site andprevent aromatase from catalyzing androgensinto estrogens. Estrogens have been shownto act at both the genomic and nongenomiccellular levels such as in calcium influx as wellas cAMP-mediate signaling cascades (Beyer1999). To date aromatase inhibitors have beenused in zebrafish to immunohistochemicallylocalize areas of aromatase in the brain(Callard et al. 2001). For example, formestane(4-hydroxyandrostenedione or 4-OH-A), theAI used in this study, is a steroidal aromataseinhibitor that competes with its naturalsubstrate, androstenedione, for the enzymeand binds irreversibly to it (Harda et al.1999).

The zebrafish develops over the course ofseveral days and is thus an excellent modelfor these embryological studies. Treatmentscan easily be applied to its aqueousenvironment during early stages of maturationsimilar to a tissue culture paradigm (Eisen1996; Fishman 2001; Jesuhasan 2002).Although estrogen response systems havebeen found in brain areas and the retina andvisual pathways of many species, includingthose of zebrafish and humans (Callard et al.2001; Littleton-Kearney 2002), no studies


have used AIs to identify their effects on thematuration of zebrafish sensory-motor (S-M)behaviors. Consequently this study attemptsto acquire a better understanding of AIaffects on the critical S-M functions duringzebrafish development. The hypothesisdeveloped in this study states thatexperimental results will show thatmaturation in the central and peripheralsystems (CNS/PNS) in the zebrafish, andhence the successful emergence of S-Mfunctions, is dependent on adequatephysiological levels of estrogen. Resultsreported in the present study validate thishypothesis. In addition, a new zebrafishmodel we term ‘listless’ due to the absenceof S-M functions has also emerged fromthese studies and will aid in the furtherunderstanding of estrogen’s role in nervoussystem maturation.

MATERIALS AND METHODS

Zebrafish preparation and analysis

Pigmented zebrafish (Danio rerio) used inthese experiments were obtained from thebreeding facilities of the ZebrafishInternational Resource Center at theUniversity of Oregon, Eugene. After arrival,the eggs were placed in an egg-rearing saline(ERS) solution (0.004% CaCl2, 0.0163%MgSO4, 0.1% NaCl, 0.003% KCl) alsocontaining antimycotic and antibioticsconsisting of penicillin, streptomycin, andamphotericin B (Sigma), which was added tothe rearing medium at 10 µL per ml ofsolution. Developing embryos 24–48 hourspost fertilization (hpf) were removed fromtheir protective chorian at to allow forgreater exposure to the external treatmentenvironment. Zebrafish were placed in a 2mg/ml solution of pronase (Sigma) for fiveminutes, which made the chorion brittle andeasy to remove. Control and experimentalgroups, in 6-well dishes, 4 fish per well, wereplaced in a controlled-environment chambermaintained at 28.5° C and 12 hr lightcycles. Fish were prepared for observationsat either 8 or 24 hour intervals. Allprocedures were in accordance with the NIH

Guidelines for the care and treatment ofanimals.

4-OH-A treatment

The 4-OH-A treatment was prepared usingconcentrations between 5.0–10.0 × 10−5 M.A stock solution was created by firstdissolving the AI in 5 ml of ETOH anddiluting it to the appropriate concentrationin 1 L of ERS (final 0.05% ETOHconcentration). All ERS controls contained0.05% ETOH). The most effectiveconcentration of 4-OH-A was determined tobe 5.0 × 10−5 M which resulted in S-Mdegradation and less deaths than higherconcentrations. In 4-OH-A groups, fish weredechorionated and treated starting at 24–48hpf and observed at 24 hour intervals for 3days, and subsequently fixed for lightmicroscopic observations. Also, after treatmentwith the AI for 24–96 hours, it was washedout of the incubation medium with eitherestrogen (10−5, 10−6, or 10−8 M) or ERScontaining the diluent 0.05% ethanol todetermine if S-M behaviors would appearover a 24–48 hour time period.

Estrogen only and estrogenco-treatments

The experimental response groups wereplaced in either 10−8 M, 10−6 M, and 10−5

M solutions of estrogen (17� estradiol,Sigma), solubilized in ERS containing thediluent 0.05% ethanol. Control treatmentsreared fish in 0.05% ethanol in ERS(following Garcia-Segura et al. 2001). Thezebrafish were treated with the experimentaland control solutions for 24–72 hpf. Every 8to 24 hours the fish were observed for thedevelopmental emergence of S-M responses.

The 4-OH-A and estrogen concentrationswere combined in a co-treatment paradigm.The 4-OH-A concentration of AI at 50 × 10−6

M was combined with estrogen at 10−8 M or10−6 M. These experiments were carried outto determine if the exogenous estrogen at10−8 M or 10−6 M would be sufficient toillicit neuroprotection in the zebrafish after its

Nelson / Development of Sensory-Motor Functions in the Zebrafish 51

endogenous production of estrogen wasinhibited by 4-OH-A and also illicit longersurvival times.

Analysis of the developmentalappearance of S-M behaviors, bodyanomalies, survival, and heart rates

The developmental emergence of theresponse to touch (TR), vestibular behavior(righting response, VR), pectoral finmovements (FM), eye movements (EM), andthe degree of their spontaneous swimmingactivity (SM) were recorded every 8 to 24hours throughout the study. Tactileresponses were determined based on theescape responses that zebrafish displayed totouch by a small metal probe as observedunder dissecting microscope. The other S-Mbehaviors were observed with a phasecontrast microscope. Ten to twenty zebrafishembryos were used in each experimental andcontrol group within the variousexperimental paradigms described above.Each experimental study was repeated at aminimum of three times for statisticalinterpretation. The developmental emergenceof S-M behaviors was calculated on a percentof appearance in the control andexperimental populations over a 3-dayanalysis period. The 3-day analysis periodwas broken down into 24 hour observationpoints and in some experiments furtherbroken down into 8 hour observationperiods. The significance of the success ofthe various experiments was based on thefact that optimum AI treatment at 50 × 10−6 Madequately inhibited the developmentalexpression of the various S-M behaviorswithout significant death over 2 to 3 days,thus starting these observations from a nearzero percent expression base. In addition,percent survival of treated fish over afour-day analysis period was calculated.Photomicrographs of control andexperimental treated groups were taken witha Zeiss TS 100 phase contrast microscopeattached to a Nikon DXM 1200F digitalcamera.

Photographs were used to examine body

abnormalities. Specifically, the zebrafish werealso examined for body curvature anomalies(a curving of the dorsal region) ranging fromminute to severe. Cardiac sac or additionalblood vasculature abnormalities were alsonoted over observations during the 24 to 72hour test period. Cardiac sac abnormalitiesfocused on an enlargement of the sac and abackup of blood within this structure.

Data analysis

Proportions of subjects expressing S-Mbehaviors were compared among treatmentsusing contingency tables with significanceassessed at � = 0.05. As these only indicateif a difference exists among all treatments,multiple pairwise treatment comparisonswere subsequently completed using anappropriate, Bonferroni-adjusted value of �(Samuels & Whitmer 2003). By convention,with the use of a proportion analysis, theerror of the means are not normallyindicated and are therefore not shown in thevarious figures.

RESULTS

4-OH-A treatment prevents thedevelopmental expression of

S-M behaviors

Results from 4-OH-A treatments indicatedthat the developmental appearance of S-Mbehaviors was inhibited. Specifically, 4-OH-Atreatment (at 100 × 10−6 M), beginning at24–48 hpf either prevented or caused thedisappearance of the various S-M behaviorstested such as SM, FM, VR, and EM (Figure1A). The lower dose (50 × 10−6 M)significantly reduced appearance of the S-Mbehaviors when compared to the ERScontrol treatments (p < 0.001). However, aswould be expected the higher AIconcentration, 100 × 10−6 M, caused asignificant loss of S-M function than that ofthe 50 × 10−6 M treatment. However, thelower AI concentration was found to beoptimal since the higher concentrationresulted in significantly more early deaths


during the observation period. Thus, AItreatment created a new zebrafishdevelopmental deficiency called ‘listless’ dueto the absence of S-M functions.

The establishment of the appropriate AIdose for creating the ‘listless’ condition led tothe question of what estrogen levels were

appropriate for future co-treatment anddevelopmental studies. Three initial estrogenconcentrations were chosen, one in thepharmacological range (10−5 M) and twowithin physiological parameters (10−6 and10−8 M). After three days of estrogentreatment at these concentrations there

Figure 1. The effects of AI and estrogen dose-response treatments at 3 days of exposure (120 hpf),begun at 48 hpf, on the developmental emergence of the S-M behaviors: spontaneous swimmingmovements, SM; tactile response, TR; fin movement, FN; vestibular response, VR; and eye movements,EM. (A) This panel shows that one of the treatments was significantly different from the rest (p < 0.001).From this data it is possible to infer that the ERS is able to illicit normal S-M responses while AItreatment results in the significant developmental suppression of S-M expression, which creates the‘listless’ condition. Figure key notations of AI = 50, 75, and 100 represents 10−6 M 4-OH-A treatmentsrespectively. (B) This panel demonstrates that after three days of estrogen treatment (124 hpf) thepharmacological estrogen concentration at 10−5 M displayed a statistically significant difference(p < 0.002) in comparison to the two lower concentrations. Figure key notations of E1–E3 = 10−5, 10−6,and 10−8 M estrogen treatments respectively. Note the 10−5 M estrogen treatment significantlydiminishes the appearance of S-M behaviors much like AI administered in Figure 1 A. above. ERSrepresents the egg rearing control solution; hpf in the above caption stands for hours post fertilization.


was a statistically significant difference(p < 0.002) in one of the treatments (Figure1B). When the three estrogen treatmentswere compared to each other, the dataindicated that the 10−5 M treatment wasstatistically different from both the 10−6 and10−8 M treatments. Specifically, the 10−5 Mconcentration of estrogen was determined tobe a dose with deleterious effects in thedevelopmental emergence of S-M behaviorsand fish survival. In contrast, both 10−6 and10−8 M estrogen concentrations allowed for100% expression of S-M behaviors.

AI to ERS washout results inresurgence of S-M behaviors

The results from the washout of AI withERS indicated recovery of the developmentalappearance of S-M behaviors in thedeveloping zebrafish. Specifically, if AI iswashed out of the incubation medium duringearly development, at 48 hpf, normal S-Mbehaviors emerged over a 3-day time period(Figure 2A). However, if AI treatment occurslater in development, at 98 hpf, followed bywashout with ERS, the recovery of lost S-Mbehaviors occurs more rapidly over an eighthour time period (Figure 2B).

AI/Estrogen co-treatments displaythe need for estrogen in the normal

maturation of S-M behaviors andprotects from the formation of body

anomalies and premature death

The AI and estrogen co-treatments wereutilized to if exogenous estrogen wouldmitigate AI-induced S-M inhibition and leadto a resurgence and protection of thesefunctions. Exogenous estrogen was able toallow for S-M recovery and protection(Figure 3). By the start of the third day ofco-treatment (once sensory-motor functionswere reduced by AI treatment; Day 0 inFigure 3A) co-treated fish demonstrated asignificant recovery of all S-M behaviors(p < 0.0001). However, with AI treatmentalone there was no S-M functions exhibited

and the fish were in the ‘listless’ conditionwhich implies that one of the treatments hada significant affect on the behaviors than theother two. From this information (Figure 3B)it was concluded that the two co-treatmentswere the ones different from the AI-only.The statistical analysis was applied to only theco-treatments and AI treatment to determineif there was a significant difference betweenthose three treatments. The ERS treatmentserved as a secondary control to make surethe fish were healthy and developed normallyunder normal circumstances. Therefore, fromthis information the 50 × 10−6 M AItreatment was sufficient to degrade the S-Mresponses via inhibition of endogenousestrogen production. In turn, theco-application of estrogen was able toovercome the AI inhibition, leading to thedevelopmental emergence and protectionfrom AI treatment. In addition, estrogenco-treatment was able to protect the fishfrom abnormal body curvature and cardiacsac anomalies (compare Figures 3 and 4).Co-treatment also displayed that exogenousestrogen was important in the long-termsurvival of zebrafish. AI-treated fish displayedsignificantly higher mortality rates thanco-treated fish (P = 0.016; Figure 5)presumably due to cardiac arrest and vascularcollapse (data not shown) which was precededby an enlarged cardiac sac (Figure 4C).

DISCUSSION

The role of estrogen in CNS maturation ismost evident in this study by AI inhibition ofthe developmental expression of TR, VR,FM, EM S-M behaviors and their recoveryfacilitated by estrogen replacement therapy.The evidence that physiological levels ofestrogen when added to AIs can initiate theemergence of S-M behaviors would stronglyindicate their developmental dependence onestrogen. Indeed, there is a direct correlationbetween the emergence of S-M behaviorsand the maturation of the correspondingbrainstem and spinal cord neural circuitryresponsible for their expression (Bate 1999).Also, estrogen response systems have been


localized in both the brainstem and spinalcord neurons of vertebrates (McEwen &Alves 1999; Sar & Stumpf 1977). Theseobservations also correspond to reports inthe literature where estrogen has been found

to alter neuronal growth, direct synapseformation, aid in the direction of cellmigration during development, and alter theelectrophysiological state of neurons(McEwen & Alves 1999; Wise et al. 2001).

Figure 2. Recovery of S-M behaviors after AI washout in zebrafish embryos of various developmentalages. (A) These data indicate that, with the exception of the tactile response, the delayed developmentalemergence of S-M behaviors in younger fish embryos (72 hpf) occurred over a 2–3 day period after AIwashout. (B) This graph makes it possible to infer that upon AI washout all S-M behaviors recover fromthe ‘listless’ condition in older fish (124 hpf) that had already expressed these behaviors prior to AItreatment. These results also indicate that the AI may be quickly cleared in vivo since recovery occursover an 8 hour time period which is much more rapid than in A above. Note that all S-M measurementsoverlap on the graph and thus there is no distinction between values. The S-M behaviors in the key areSM, spontaneous movement; TR, tactile response; FN, fin movement; and VR, vestibular movement.Figure 2A key notations: AI-6E washout refers to an AI treatment that has been replaced with 10−6 Mestrogen; AI-ERS washout of refers to an AI treated fish that has been replaced with the control eggrearing solution.


Most importantly, co-treatment of AI andestrogen experiments revealed thatexogenous estrogen was able to illicit therecovery and protective S-M and survivalaffects. From these data and previousliterature reviews this current investigation

again supports the conclusions that estrogenis a requirement for proper sensory-motordevelopment (Krause et al. 2006).

In addition, estrogen also appears to benecessary for proper body development.Specifically, the body anomaly as seen in the

Figure 3. Graph demonstrating the effects of estrogen and AI + estrogen co-treatments on the rescue ofthe development expression of S-M behaviors and body curvature abnormalities in zebrafish embryoswith treatments starting at 48 hpf which is equivalent to day zero on A. below and day 3 in B. isequivalent to 140 hpf. (A) After a twenty-four hour pulse of AI most S-M functions were suppressedwhich set up the experimental baseline for the co-treatments. Also, body anomalies such as extremecurvature (Curve) were minimal at day 0 of the co-treatment. (B) These data indicate that after 3-days theco-treatments of 50 × 10−6 M AI with either 10−6 or 10−8 M estrogen fish were able to significantly(p < 0.0001) recover their S-M functions. However, AI treatment alone significantly inhibited thedevelopmental emergence of these behaviors. Also, note that extreme body curvature (Curve) was absentin the presence of co-treatments. However, in the AI only group all of the fish exhibited this bodyanomaly. The S-M behaviors evaluated in this study were: SM, spontaneous swimming movements; TR,tactile response; FN, fin movement; VR, vestibular response. Figure key notations: AI-6E, and AI-8E refersto results after AI co-treatment with either 10−6 or 10−8 M estrogen, after AI washout; AI represents a50 × 10−6 M treatment only; and ERS represents control egg rearing solution treatment only.


C-shaped curvature problems in this studycould be attributed to numerous mechanismsof actions whose normal development maybe inhibited during AI treatment such as inthe notochord, muscle, and cartilage bodycompartments.

Mechanisms that may be responsible forthe AI generation of the ‘listless’ conditioninclude the collapse of developing synapses,the improper release of neurotransmitters,changes in ionic concentrations, and the lackof protection of axons. Estrogen has beenshown to be protective of neuronal synapses.If those synapses do not receive the properamount of estrogen then they may innervateend organs improperly or not at all, leadingto miscommunication between the CNS and

PNS as well as abnormal development(Krause et al. 2006). Estrogen is alsonecessary for proper release ofneurotransmitters, especially ACh, GABA,and Ca2+ (Krause et al. 2006). Too muchestrogen can then result in neuronalhyper-excitability (leading to over firing anddeath) or hypo-excitability (too little firing andpossible death) and the proper nervoussystem signals would not be transmitted. Toolittle estrogen has also been shown to resultin the degeneration of the axon. Such a losswould lead to a progressive degradation ofneuronal signals which could lead todegradation of neuromuscular systemsleading to the ‘listless’ fish condition.

These results indicate that AI treatment

Figure 4. Photomicrographs (15× magnification) demonstrating the body shapes and cardiac sacanomalies of various treated zebrafish embryos at 3 days post treatment (124 hpf). (A) Developingzebrafish with control ERS treatment. Note that the zebrafish has a normal-sized cardiac sac (CS), as wellas, a straight body orientation (E represents the eye). (B) AI treatment (50 × 10−6 M) results in anabnormal “C”-shaped body curvature at 2–3 days of treatment. (C) Zebrafish exposed to AIconcentrations of 50 × 10−6 M illicit an enlarged cardiac sac (CS) (D) Co-treatment with AI + estrogenprevents the appearance of body curvature and cardiac sac anomalies.


does result in sensory-motor loss and theresulting ‘listless’ fish condition. Themethodology employed in this studydemonstrates the ‘listless’ condition can beused to study the role of estrogen in thedevelopment of the nervous system in anintact organism. Exogenously-administeredestrogen was able to compensate for the lossof endogenous estrogen production, resultingin neuroprotection and recovery in impairedembryos. These results also point to thecrucial role played by estrogen in thedevelopment, health, protection, andmaintenance of the brain, spinal, andperipheral networks.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I would like to extend my special thanks toDr. James E. Turner, my mentor on thisproject for the last three years. His guidancehas contributed greatly to my research. Iwould also like to thank the VMI BiologyDepartment and the UndergraduateResearch Initiative Office for funding. Specialthanks are also extended to my fellowundergraduate zebrafish researchers for

helping me when I needed it. Also, specialrecognition goes to Mr. Ted Grigorieff forteaching me the art of fish husbandry and formaintaining the zebrafish facility.

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McEwen, B.S., Alves, S.E. (1999) Estrogenactions in the central nervous system.Endocrine Reviews 20:279–307.

Menuet, A., Pellegrini, E., Anglade, I., Blaise, O.,Laudet, V., Kah, O., Pakel, F. (2002)Molecular characterization of three estrogenreceptor forms in zebrafish: Bindingcharacteristics, transactivation properties, andtissue distribution. Biology of Reproduction66:1881–1892.

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Wise, P.M., Dubal, D.B., Wilson, M.E., Rau,S.W., Liu, L. (2001) Estrogens: trophic andprotective factors in the adult brain. Frontiersin Neuroendocrinology 22:33–60.


Emergency UndergroundCommunication Using Seismic Waves

Cadet George W. Flathers III and Cadet Jared E. Starin

Faculty Advisor: Dr. James C. Squire, Department of Electrical andComputer Engineering

ABSTRACTDespite the unparalleled technology advancements of our century, mining continues to beone of the most dangerous industries in America (Bureau of Labor Statistics 2002).Currently, following a mine collapse, all communication is cut off; landlines are instantlysevered by the force of the collapse, and radio signals are absorbed in the conductive earth.The purpose of the Extremely Low Frequency Seismic Detector (ELFSD) is to improve minesafety by communicating directly through the overburden to emergency services on thesurface. An underground transmitter and portable topside receiver have been developed thatallow trapped miners with a limited supply of oxygen and potentially in need of medical helpto communicate their condition to the outside world. Similarly, the system allows emergencypersonnel to detect and locate survivors. When activated, the transmitter continuallytransduces a signal into the ground as seismic energy. The receiver collects and processesthe ground signal. The presence of a valid signal indicates survivors. The transmitter, builtfrom a 12” speaker and a 275 watt amplifier, generates a continuous, tunable, extremelylow frequency (40 to 200Hz) sine wave. The wave is transduced as seismic P-waves into theground using a modified voice coil and spider springs. Geophones in the topside receivercollect the signal from the ground and a high-Q bandpass filter removes noise around thedesired frequency. The signal, however, remains 100,000 times weaker than the ambientnoise. The computer integrates the signal over a relatively long period and uses FourierTransforms to extract it from the overpowering noise. A MATLAB application has beencreated to perform the transforms, log the data, and graphically display the result inrealtime. The prototype system has been successfully tested surface-to-surface at a range of200 feet. The ELFSD concept can be expanded for two-way communication, multiple bitmessages, and mobile transmitters.

PROBLEM

Mining is one of the most dangerousindustries in America [1]. A string of recentmining disasters—particularly the Sago Minecollapse in West Virginia—have highlightedthe risks miners accept every day. The

problem is not confined to America; miningtragedies affect families all over the world.China, which produces over one-third of theworld’s coal, especially suffers from miningaccidents, ranging from collapses to floods.In 2003, China reported over 6000 miningfatalities [2]. The dangers of a roof collapse


63

are always present, and even the “bestappearing roof has some potential to fall,”according to the Virginia Department ofMines, Minerals, and Energy [3].

Although many efforts have been made toimprove safety, one critical element remainselusive: the ability to communicate throughthe overburden1 to the surface following acollapse. Current communication systemsand many proposed systems require anunobstructed path to the surface. Landlinesare instantly severed by the violent forcesof the collapse, and radios are useless, dueto the earth’s shielding effects. Evenspecially-adapted miners’ radios can onlytransmit through 10 feet of earth [4]. With alimited supply of oxygen and possibly inneed of medical help, trapped miners arecompletely cut off from the outside world.Similarly, emergency personnel have no wayof knowing if there are any survivors; theyare effectively blind to the conditionsimmediately beyond the collapse. The highestpriority in any mine rescue is to drill an airshaft and begin pumping oxygen to theminers. The choice of where to drill is currentlya best-guess decision. These emergencyteams are forced to manage the risks andresources associated with the time-criticalrescue without any concrete knowledge uponwhich to base their judgments.

SOLUTION

The purpose of the Extremely LowFrequency Seismic Detector (ELFSD) is toimprove mine safety by using an undergroundtransmitter (Fig. 1) and portable topsidereceiver to communicate directly through theearth. When activated by trapped miners, thetransmitter will continually transduce aseismic energy signal into the ground at afrequency specific to their particular safehaven. The receiver unit uses FourierTransforms to integrate frequency-specificseismic power from the transmitter overminutes to hours depending on the depth

underground. An emergency seismic generatoris power-limited by its battery source, so thereceived signal is a small fraction of thesimultaneously-collected environmental noise.The signal can be extracted from the noiseusing a communications system that canoperate in the presence of an extraordinarilylow signal-to-noise ratio with low error rateby using a very low baud rate (e.g. 1 bit per10 minutes). Experimental data showsreceived signal power declines as 1/r2 withthe distance from transmitter, as would beexpected from Gauss’ Law. Given theproject’s success at detecting a signal at 300feet in 2 minutes, we therefore expect to beable to collect a valid signal 600 feet aboveground from the transmitter in 8 minutes.For comparison, the Sago Mine collapse inWest Virginia occurred 260 feet underground.

Project management

The ELFSD is a multi–discipline projectthat includes three students and threeadvisors from the Civil, Mechanical, and

1 The overburden refers to the layers of earthabove the mining tunnel.

Figure 1. Seismic transmitter. The seismicsending device being secured into the ground.Although in this photo it is being tested topside,the sending unit is designed to work eithertopside or underground in a battery-poweredconfiguration.


Electrical Engineering fields. The project hasbeen divided into five primary work groups:transmitter design, receiver design, softwaredevelopment, system integration and testing,and business and marketing. The studentauthor is the principal investigator, directingproject management, electronics design,fabrication, system integration, and testing.

Transmitter

The seismic transmitter, shown in Fig. 2,is constructed from a speaker mounted in arigid frame. A continuous, low frequency (40to 85Hz) sine wave is generated by a customsoftware application. These frequencies werechosen because large environmental noisesources were found below 40Hz and it wasdiscovered that the earth severely attenuates

signals over 85Hz. The signal is thenamplified to 175Wrms and transduced by thespeaker.

The speaker’s aluminum voice coil isconnected to a baseplate (not shown, butapproximately 2 ft2) that is anchored to theground. The movable voice coil is connectedto the fixed baseplate through the rubbervoice cone and radial spider springs. Verticalmotion produced by the speaker is transducedto seismic energy in the form of longitudinalP waves, tuned to a frequency at which earthattenuation is minimized. This is far moreefficient than thumping the soil as is done inseismic exploration when power is not anissue, as thumping creates impulses of broadfrequency spectrum. The tension on thethree spring arms can be adjusted to supportthe speaker in the neutral position. In theproduction version, the transmitters will behardened against environmental factorsincluding moisture, as well as those involvedin disasters, such as severe shock.

Receiver

The receiver, shown in Fig. 3 as a blockdiagram, is used by emergency servicespersonnel to collect and analyze the groundsignal. Because of its small size and lightweight, the receiver can be deployed whenneeded. The presence of a valid signalindicates there are survivors in need ofrescue. Transmitter location can be determinedby assigning each underground transmitter aunique frequency. It should be noted that thecurrent system is limited to communicatingthe presence or absence of survivors andtheir location only. A future stage of thisproject will explore ways to expand itsabilities. The receiver is composed of fourstages: the geophone, analog filter withintegrated DC offset removal, amplifier, anddata acquisition device (DAQ). A computerperforms the final digital filtering, analysis,and display.

The seismic signal can be detected andcollected on the surface through a standardgeophone. A geophone, in its simplest form,can be thought of as an underground

Figure 2. Underground transmitter. Note thethree “spider” springs that flexibly couple theheavy permanent magnet speaker base at the topto the three mounting brackets. The three verticalmounting brackets are mounted to the same rigidmetal base (not shown but at the bottom of theCAD model) as the speaker cone. In operation,the voice coil moves the heavy permanent magnetsthat by inertia produce an oscillating force againstthe steel base. The base is anchored into the soil byseveral hand-placed augers, thereby transducing theoscillating force into the ground as longitudinalP-waves. The majority of the power is expendedmoving the earth. Since the earth is relatively stiff,there is little net motion and therefore negligiblepower loss to acoustic energy.

Flathers and Starin / Emergency Underground Communication Using Seismic Waves 65

microphone. At this stage, the signal isapproximately 100,000 times weaker thanambient noise also collected by thegeophone. Specifically designed analog filtersand amplifiers remove about 90% ofunwanted noise, and a 60Hz notch filterreduces the omnipresent 60Hz noise. Noisepower still exceeds signal power by roughly10,000 fold. The remaining signal, includingnoise, is digitized and collected on a laptopcomputer for Fourier analysis using a

commercial-off-the-shelf DAQ, at a samplingrate of 10 Hz to 5 kHz as needed. A fullschematic of the receiver circuitry is shownin Fig. 4, and the corresponding Bode plotsin Fig. 5. The assembled receiver is shown inFig. 6.

Analysis software

Custom MATLAB software with a graphicaluser interface performs a Fourier Transform

Figure 4. Receiver circuit. This circuit accepts signals from the geophone and filters and amplifies it forcomputer analysis and data-logging.

Figure 3. Receiver layout and design. This sub-system collects raw signals from the ground andprepares them for computer analysis. The receiver includes the geophone, amplifiers, filters, and dataacquisition device. Highpass filters prevent small offset voltages originating in the active filters frombeing amplified by the high gain final amplifier.


(using the Fast Fourier Transform algorithm)and graphically displays the emerging signalin realtime. Fourier analysis integrates thepower received into frequency-specific energybins. This enhances the received signal tonoise ratio in two ways. First, the percentageof total received noise energy that existswithin a particular frequency bandwidth isproportional to the bandwidth. As the length

of time that the received signal is measuredincreases, Fourier Analysis permits the resolvedbandwidth to shrink to about 1/(total timereceived), reducing the noise energy. Theseismic energy signal is not reduced by limitingits bandwidth since it is frequency-locked bya quartz crystal to essentially zero bandwidth.Second, any noise component from azero-mean additive white Gaussian sourcehas an RMS energy that grows as the squareroot of time, but the received signal has anRMS energy that grows linearly with time.As Fourier Analysis is continuouslyperformed on the received signal over thecourse of several tens of minutes, the signalto noise ratio increases by a factor of nearlyone million (Fig. 7). The processed outputhas an extremely low probability of atype-one error, that is, falsely indicating asurvivor signal.

System integration & testing

Since its conception, the ELFSD hasundergone several design revisions. One ofthe most significant revisions involvedredesigning the transmitter. The originaldevice was simply a loudspeaker securedfacedown to a flat baseplate in the ground.Unfortunately, this design relied on air toconduct the signal between the voice coil and

Figure 6. Receiver sub-system. A two-layerprinted circuit board was designed usingPCBExpress software to reduce the capacitivelycoupled environmental noise and to protect thecomponents from shock. The receiver sub-systemwas packaged within a waterproof case. The reddevice is the geophone, and the blue box isthe DAQ.

Figure 5. Bandpass and notch filter frequency response. The analog active filter in the receiver iscomposed of one fourth order bandpass and one second order notch filter. Early frequency sweepexperiments indicated the least near-surface signal attenuation occurred between 45 and 85Hz, so thesefrequencies were chosen as the bandpass corner frequencies. A 60Hz Twin-T notch filter was required toreduce capacitively-coupled 60Hz noise. The high Q design permits the use of signal frequencies veryclose to the notch frequency.


ground. The difference in density betweenthe compressible air and compacted groundwas an impedance mismatch, causing mostof the signal power to be reflected off theground and wasted as acoustic noise. Thisproblem also influenced the first receiverdesign by causing overestimation of theoptimal frequencies for earth conduction,since the receiver was actually responding tothe signal transmitted through the air.

Once the improved transmitter and receiverwere tested, the effect of capacitively-coupled60 Hz noise became apparent. This noisewas particularly invasive because it wassinusoidal steady-state, was of greatermagnitude than the survivor signal, and wasin the middle of the optimal frequency range.This noise could not be simply removed bydigital filtering because its magnitude causedsaturation after signal amplification. Reductionof gain to prevent saturation caused theamplitude of the transduced signal to becomeclose to the minimum quantized resolution ofthe A/D converter. To reduce 60Hz noiseand still maintain the maximum possiblebandwidth, an active second order Twin-Tnotch filter was added to the receiver.

The current design iteration has beensuccessfully tested surface-to-surface over a

range of frequencies (50 to 150 Hz) anddistances (25 to 300 ft). During testing thetransmitter was powered by a 12V DCpower supply derived from an AC source,although a battery supply would be usedwhen fielded.

FUTURE PLANS ANDBUSINESS & MARKETING

Experiments in March 2007 will involvetesting the ELFSD from a mineshaft to thesurface through 100–600 feet of rock atNatural Bridge Caverns, Virginia. The datafrom this vertical configuration is expected tobe at least as promising as thecurrently-collected surface transmission datasince the denser compacted earth shouldpermit more efficient signal transduction.

After the full-scale vertical mineshaft tests,the project will be presented to the VirginiaDepartment of Mine Safety in order tofund further development. From thisproof-of-concept design, there is potential todevelop the ELFSD to allow two-waycommunication, multiple-bit messages, andmobile transmitters.

There are current plans to determine if theinvention is commercially viable. To do this,

Figure 7. Processed experimental data. Experimental data in Fig. 7 after 2 seconds (left) and 2 minutes(right) of collection time using a 75Hz signal at 200 feet. The received signal is not immediatelymeasurable against the background noise, but becomes unmistakable after 2 minutes. Note theeffectiveness of the 60Hz notch filter, and what appears to be a deterministic contaminating noise sourceat 90Hz.


the Virginia Military Institute’s (VMI’s)Business and Economics Department usedthe ELFSD as a case study for theirentrepreneurship course. Over the course ofthe spring 2007 semester, the classdeveloped a three-part product developmentplan. They first created a marketing plan thatanalyzed the market, potential customers,and advertising strategies. Following themarketing plan, they developed a financialplan, projecting and mapping the first fiveyears of the final product. Finally, theyperformed a risk assessment, looking into thedevelopment, investment, and intellectualproperty risks. Based on their findings, theELFSD was disclosed to VMI’s IntellectualProperty Officer for patent consideration.

CONCLUSIONIn the months following the Sago

Mine disaster, the West Virginia stategovernment passed a flurry of legislationrequiring more safety technology—inparticular, communication devices [5]. Otherstates have passed similar resolutions, andthere are several federal congressional billspending to do the same. The ELFSD is anovel solution to improve mine safety andaddress these government mandates byallowing transmission directly through theoverburden. When implemented, this systemcan be an integral part of the challengingand continuing effort to improve miningsafety in our state, nation, and world.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTSThe author wishes to express appreciation

to Dr. Squire for conceiving the idea andencouraging its research, as well as to Dr.Sullivan and Mr. Childrey, who helped designand build the transmitter. Dr. Erchul provideda geologist’s expert insight in the project. Dr.Baker’s enthusiastic participation has beeninstrumental in marketing this project.Finally, Mr. Starin was a critical part of theteam, and assisted in receiver fabrication andsystem testing.

REFERENCES[1] Bureau of Labor Statistics, 2002, “The 10

most dangerous jobs in America,” http://moneycentral.msn.com/content/invest/ extra/P63405.asp

[2] Congressional-Executive Commission onChina, 2004, “Coal mine safety in China: canthe accident rate be reduced?” One HundredEighth Congress, second session.

[3] Milici, R. and Gathright, T., 1985, “Geologicfeatures related to coal mine roof falls: a guidefor miner training,” Commonwealth ofVirginia, Department of Mines, Minerals andEnergy, Division of Mineral Resources.

[4] Young, V.,and Erndle, D., 2006, Interviewwith L3 Communication’s S. Y. Coleman,Energy Virginia Conference, October 17,2006.

[5] CNNMoney.com, 2007, “Chronology ofmine safety legislation,” http://money.cnn.com/news/newsfeeds/articles/newstex/AFX-0013-13232992.htm.


Thermoacoustic Cooling StackPrototyping and Design

Cadet Paul A. Childrey, ’08

Faculty Advisor: Dr. Jon Michael Hardin, Department ofMechanical Engineering

ABSTRACTCurrent thermoacoustic stack construction methods are slow and inefficient; the objective ofthe current research was to determine whether a simple and effective stack could bemanufactured using rapid prototyping techniques. By automating the process, it wastheorized that a better thermoacoustic stack consisting of very small parallel passages couldbe produced rapidly and inexpensively. By building a thermoacoustic tube and testingvarious manufactured stacks, it was thought that a size and shape of a rapid prototypedstack could be determined. Being able to easily manufacture stacks presumably would leadto thermoacoustic cooling being used more often in industry and niche cooling applications.Several stack lengths were tested, but all rapid prototyped stacks failed to provide atemperature gradient when tested. This study essentially identified one method of stackconstruction that was ineffective. Knowing this, other methods can be studied and refined.

INTRODUCTION

Glass blowers have known for years that ared hot piece of glass is capable of producinga sound. This phenomenon is the principlebehind thermoacoustic cooling. If a differencein temperature can produce a sound from ahollow tube, then it is likely that a forcedsound frequency might produce a temperaturedifference. This idea has only recently beeninvestigated by such companies as Ben andJerry’s and Pennsylvania State University [1].However, initial efforts have shown thatthermoacoustic cooling has many real worldapplications.

One of the primary benefits of thermoacousticcooling is that it is environmentally safe.Thermoacoustic cooling uses no harmful

hydrochlorofluorocarbons (HCFCs). Therefore,thermoacoustic cooling provides anenvironmentally-safe alternative to vapor-compression cycles. Also, thermoacousticscan be operated variably just by turningdown the sound volume, unlike current vaporcompression systems which are either on oroff. Thus far, the highest efficiency athermoacoustic cooler has reached is 40%Carnot Efficiency. In comparison, high endcompression cycles can achieve 60%efficiency. However, it is expected that withcontinued research thermoacoustic cycles willrival the efficiency of conventional systems.Thermoacoustics have the capability to reachas low as cryogenic temperatures or maintaina more reasonable range suited forrefrigeration or life systems. Some


71

prototypes are already being used for theliquefaction of nitrogen: one model wasrecently sent into space to test anaeronautical application and one is currentlybeing used to cool a radar array on a USwarship [2].

THEORYThe name Thermoacoustics gives the

impression that the device is based on soundwaves. This, in fact, is only partially true.The principles behind thermoacoustic coolingreally revolve around pressure waves. Atnormal atmospheric pressure, pressure wavesproduce sound. But in the thermoacousticenvironment, pressure waves are used as thedriving force to contract and expandindividual gas molecules. In most cases, whena substance is expanded, it drops intemperature, and when it is compressed thetemperature rises. These principles arealready in use with vapor compressioncycles. When a refrigerant drops in pressurethrough an expansion valve, its temperaturealso drops. A thermoacoustic cooler workson the same principles but on a microscopicscale. Within the thermoacoustic environment,a pressure wave oscillates through a medium.As the pressure rises, the molecules in themedium are compressed, and as the pressuredecreases, the molecules expand. Whenmolecules are constrained axially, such as ina thermoacoustic stack, the pressure risecaused by the motion of the acousticpressure wave through the stack causes arise in the temperature of the moleculeswithin the stack. This rise in temperature istransferred via adjacent molecules to the far‘hot’ side of the stack.

As the acoustic pressure wave recedes, themolecules expand and absorb heat from theopposite ‘cold’ end of the stack. This processis repeated hundreds of times per second,depending on the frequency of the oscillatingacoustic wave. Conventional heat exchangersare then used to remove heat from the stack.It is interesting to note that the T-s diagramfor a molecule of gas is the same as for anyother heating or cooling process. Anotherbenefit to thermoacoustic cooling is that

because the process happens many times asecond, and on a microscopic scale, nearCarnot efficiency can theoretically beachieved. The main downfall to thethermoacoustic refrigerators has been theinefficiencies involving the heat exchangers.However, thermoacoustic cooling continuesto show a great potential as a safe alternativeto vapor compression-based cooling systems.

Typical thermoacoustic cooling systemsconsist of a resonator tube, driver and stack(Fig. 1). Conventional heat exchangers areused to remove heat. Stack constructiontypically consists of a roll of 35mm film witheach layer of the roll separated by nylonfishing wire of the appropriate diameter togive the correct wall spacing, or channelwidth, when the film is rolled into a cylinder.The film provides a rigid sidewall whilemaintaining its flexibility to be rolled.

To determine the channel width, the thermalpenetration depth (�k) of the air must bedetermined. The thermal penetration depthis directly related to the thermoacousticcooler stack. It defines how far heat can betransferred during the time it takes for awavelength to pass through the medium. Thechannel width must be between one thermalpenetration depth and four (4�k) to beeffective. The equation used to determine �k

was �k: = � k� � f � � � cp

where k is defined

as the fluid thermal conductivity, � is thedensity of the fluid, cp is the fluid’s specificheat, and f is the frequency of the wave inthe tube. To find the length of a wave, the

equation: L =cf

was used where c is the

speed of sound, L is the frequency wavelength,

and f is the frequency. The equation SL: =L2

was used to find the effective tube length thatwas used for the experiment. Dividing thewavelength by two creates a half wavelengthresonator. There were an infinite number offrequencies that could be used just bychanging the effective length of the stack.The frequency chosen was based on theKettering demonstration model [3] and


restricted by practical tube length. Anotherconsideration was the possibility of phaseshifting caused by the stack and its airresistance in the tube. Since in otherprevious research a temperature gradient hadbeen achieved without taking phase shift intoaccount, phase shift in the design wasignored. Also, to be able to get the high andlow pressure needed, very large amplitudewas required. The louder the sound, thegreater the pressure wave amplitude, andtherefore the effects of the thermoacousticstack can be amplified.

The speakers were pushed to their limit of140 W input electrical power in theseexperiments. The power equation P: = I2 · R,where R is resistance (�) and I is current(Amps), was used to keep the wattage belowthe maximum rating. The frequency mustcreate a standing wave in the tube to beeffective. A standing wave can be describedas a wave whose crest appears to bestationary when looked at on anoscilloscope. If a wave is reflected at acertain point in its period, it will mirror itself,producing high pressure on its forward pathand low pressure at the same place when it’s

reflected. This type of wave can be made byreflecting a wave at half its wavelength. Thisproduces a standing wave (Fig. 2) with highand low pressures at half the length of thetube. Reflecting the wave after one fullwavelength produces two high/low pressurepoints.

The second classification of wave is atraveling wave (Fig. 3). It would be reflectedat a different point along its period toproduce a nonsymmetrical wave whose crestappears to move on an oscilloscope.

EXPERIMENTAL METHODSThe resonator tube and box were built

according to previous research by KetteringUniversity [3] during which a desktop

Figure 2. Half-Wave (Standing)

Figure 1. Cycle

Childrey / Thermoacoustic Cooling Stack Prototyping and Design 73

demonstration model of a thermoacoustictube was built using the rolled film method.A thermoacoustic tube was built by using alength of acrylic tube. One end of the tubeprotruded through a flat Plexiglas faceplateto which the driver (speaker) was attached.The other end of the tube was capped usinga 1.43 inch section of steel bar stock with adiameter of 1.25 inches. This bar stock couldbe slid higher or lower in the tube so that theeffective tube length could be changed easily.The tube was built using a 19 inch longsection of clear acrylic tubing with an innerdiameter of 1.254 inches. This diameter wasa standard tube diameter and did not have aneffect on the tube operation.

A Plexiglas box (Fig. 4) was built toencompass the speaker. Side walls wereconstructed around the speaker using 5pieces of 1/8th inch Plexiglas. These sidewalls were joined together using 1⁄4 inchaluminum square stock for support. Thisfocused the pressure waves from thespeaker, thus keeping escaping pressurewaves to a minimum.

The weakness of the thermoacousticcooling technique is the stack construction.Currently it is difficult to manufacture a stackwith small enough channel widths to beeffective. This research explored a new wayto manufacture the thermoacoustic stack. Fora project this small, the only previousmethod was to manually create a stack froma celluloid film roll, to draw the film out, andto glue 1 inch sections of fishing line atintervals the length of the film strip. Thestrip would then be rolled up and the nylon

line would keep the film partitioned correctlyto give the desired channel width. Sometimesmultiple lengths of film were needed to getthe desired diameter roll. This process wastime-consuming and difficult.

The experimental method was to build thestack using a rapid prototyping technique. Inorder to be effective, the channel widthneeded to be between �k = 0.0052 inchesand 4�k = 0.02 inches. A solid model of thestack was constructed using AutodeskInventor and then exporting as a .stl file forconstruction.

An example of the thermoacoustic stacktested is shown below (Fig. 5). The designconstraint of the wall thickness wasdependent on what the rapid prototypingmachine could produce. Each layer of plasticthe head of the machine deposits isapproximately .01 inches thick. However,since the machine must then deposit a fillermaterial and another layer of plastic, it wasdetermined that two layers of plastic wereneeded to give the walls the rigidity theyneeded to support the filler. Each stack wasmade with a diameter of 1.253 inches togive a tight fit in the tube. There areapproximately 540 parallel spaces for themedium to oscillate in.

Figure 3. Traveling Wave

Figure 4. Speaker Box


The wall thickness in this particular stack is.02 inches as is the wall spacing. The rapidprototyping machine then built theexperimental stack using ABS plastic and asoluble plastic as support material. Someproblems occurred during the constructionprocess. First, it was unknown whether themachine could build this part to the toleranceneeded for the cooling device to work. Therapid prototyper had a layer resolution of.01 inch, but creating a .01 inch channel thelength of the stack had never been tried. Thedefault build path called for the machinehead to outline every rectangular sectioninstead of laying a single plastic bead acrossthe diameter. This posed a problem for themachine as it built the part from the groundup. This first prototype had problems withspacing because the plastic compressedslightly as the machine moved higher. Thestacks were produced using this method fortesting, a .75 inch stack, a 1 inch stack anda 1.5 inch stack. The problem was fixed byrotating the part 90° in the workspace. Thisrotation caused the machine to build the parton its side, laying first an entire wall section,then building partitions and support material,and finally laying another entire wall section

on top of the support material. Thisprocedure produced very clean stacks withthe smallest channel width possible throughthe entire length of the stack. Three stackswith the same lengths were produced usingthis method.

Each stack was tested in thethermoacoustic stack using practical testingmethods (Fig. 6). The effective tube lengthwas set at 17.5 inches as calculated. A highfidelity amplifier was used along with ananalog frequency generator to produce thedesired 385 Hz sinusoidal waveform. Twomultimeters were set up, one to monitor truefrequency and the other to monitor ampdrawn by the speakers. 140 W max Pioneer4 ohm automotive type speakers were used,so monitoring power draw was important toavoid damaging the speakers. Using theformula already discussed for power, theamperage was kept to 5.5 amps. This gave121 watts of power to the speaker. Twothermocouples, Type T, were used tomonitor the temperature on either side ofthe stack. Temperature was monitored usingLab View instrumentation software. Ambienttemperature was between 23.75°C and24.50°C depending on the day and stayedconstant for each day’s tests. For constructionmethod 1, three trials lasting 20 minuteseach were run for each of the 3 stacks fromthe first batch. For construction method 2,the same testing method was used. Afterthese tests were completed, the frequencywas changed by 20 Hz above and below the385 Hz target frequency and tested again,although only two trials were run for eachstack design this time. The frequency changewas done in case there was phase shiftingaffecting the results. Ear protection was usedsince the frequency and amplitude of the testmaterials were potentially harmful.

RESULTSConstruction Method 1: Using the first

vertically made stacks and following thetesting procedures, there were no usableresults. After steady testing of the .75 inchstack, the 1 inch stack was tried. The secondstack did not yield any temperature difference

Figure 5. Stack


either. Finally, the 1.5 inch long stack wastested. Again there were no usable results.

Construction Method 2: To test the secondhorizontally make stack, the same procedurewas used. The .75 inch, 1 inch, and 1.5 inchstacks were all tested. There appeared to beno variation in temperature. The error in thethermocouples caused an error of .5°Celsius. A much larger temperature swingwas expected, one that could be easilyrecorded with the thermocouples.

This project’s purpose was to explore a newstack manufacturing procedure. Unfortunately,the results for this experiment wereinconclusive. The thermocouples registeredan unnoticeable change in temperature oneither side of the stack. During the testing,three speakers were rendered useless by theexcess power; the first from over current andthe other two from extended use close totheir maximum wattage.

DISCUSSIONAlthough the researcher did not get the

results expected, valuable information wascollected about manufacturing techniques anddesign. It was found that a stack withextremely small channel widths necessary for

optimum operation in air could not be madeusing the rapid prototyping machine.Celluloid film is .005 inches thick. This is 4times thinner than the rapid prototypingmachine is capable of producing. If thechannel width in the film stack andprototyped stack were held constant, therewould be 8 times more channel widths in thefilm stack. Using the relationship Q: = V · Awhere Q is volumetric flow, V is velocity offluid, and A is cross-sectional area, it can beseen that a smaller cross-sectional area wouldhave impeded flow and pressure changesthrough the stack. The suspected cause ofthe test failure was that high airflowresistance in the channels caused largefrictional losses and pressure drops. Sinceprevious research proved that a simplethermoacoustic stack can be build using thematerials and frequencies tested, the onlyvariables were the stack construction methodand channel dimensions. Simply testing theresistance of the stack by blowing air throughit revealed the presence of flow resistance.This resistance may have caused a phaseshifting; as the wave passed through, it couldhave caused the high/low point to shift or itcould have reduced the pressure of the waveenough to cause the temperature gradient to

Figure 6. Layout


be unnoticeable. The length and diameter ofthe tube was not a failure cause. Thediameter does not affect the wavepropagation and length could be adjustedusing the stopper for different frequencies.Since the length could be adjusted easily withthe slideable stopper, the standing wavecould sometimes be found just by moving thestopper up and down and listening for thedeadening of sound as the waves crossed andchecked using wavelength calculations.Kettering University measured a 16°Cgradient using their demonstration model.The researcher expected to see atemperature gradient not as large as theirsbut still very measurable. With 1/8 inchchannels in the prototyped stack, it wasexpected that the temperature gradient to bereduced significantly. Even if the temperaturegradient was reduced by a factor of 8, a 2°Celsius variation in temperature would stillrender the thermoacoustic tube successful increating a temperature difference. Theresearcher also expected the hot side of theacoustic stack to show the greatesttemperature change from ambient. Like allrefrigeration cycles, which are not perfectlyefficient, there should have been more heatrejected than absorbed from the cold side.

CONCLUSION

The experiment did not get conclusiveresults for one main reason: there was asignificant difference in cross sectionalchannel area in the typical stack comparedto the prototyped stack. This was a designconsideration; however, it was expected thatthere would still be a significant temperaturegradient. The construction material shouldnot have been a diminishing factor in theexperiment since the purpose of the stack isto confine the air molecules, not to transferheat from one side to the other through thestack walls. Revisions to this research projectwould be to make a stack using the currentmethod with Celluloid film strip. This wouldprovide a control so the researcher could geta working thermoacoustic tube beforeimplementing changes. Wind tunnel research

could be done to determine the difference inresistance between the film stack and theprototyped one.

REFERENCES[1] Lucas, O, and Meeuwissen, K., 2001, “Design

and Construction of a Thermoacoustic Device,”Department of Mechanical Engineering,University of Adelaide. http://www.mecheng.adelaide.edu.au/courses/undergrad/projects/level4papers2001/lucas.pdf .

[2] Penn State: Graduate Program in Acoustics,“SETAC project: Shipboard ElectronicsThermoacoustic Chiller,” http://www.acs.psu.edu/thermoacoustics/refrigeration/setac.htm.

[3] Russell, D. A., and Weibull, P., 2002, “TabletopThermoacoustic Refrigerator for Demonstrations,”Science and Mathematics Department, KetteringUniversity, http://www.kettering.edu/∼drussell/Publications/ThermoDemo.pdf.

[4] Bioacoustic Research Lab, 2007, AcousticEquations, Chapter 2, University of IllinoisUrbana-Champaign, http://www.brl.uiuc.edu/Downloads/sakai/SakaiChapter2.pdf.

[5] VALR Team, 2007, “Heat Generated Cooling,”National Renewable Energy Laboratory, USDepartment of Energy, http://www.nrel.gov/vehiclesandfuels/ancillary_loads/.

[6] Centre for Analysis, 2006, Scientific Computingand Applications, 2007, “High-amplitudeoscillatory gas flow in interaction with solidboundaries. P.H.M.W. in ’t panhuis,” http://www.win.tue.nl/casa/research/casaprojects/panhuis.html.

APPENDIXThermoacoustic Equations:

thermal conductivity

k: = .0138BTU

hr � ft � R

density

�: = .077 �lb

ft3

specific heat

cp: = .235 �BTUlb � R

�k � wc � 4�k


Channel width constrain

�c: = .02 in

f1: =k

� � �c2 � � � cp

f1 = 24.276 Hz

thermal conductivity

k: = .0138 �BTU

hr � ft � R

density

�: = .077 �lb

ft3

specific heat

cp: = .235 �BTUlb � R

Channel width constrain

�c: = .02 in

f2: =k � 16

� � �c2 � � � cp

f2 = 388.41 Hz

c = 769 mph c = 769 mph

f: = 385 Hz f: = 25 Hz

L =cf

L =cf

L = 35.154 in L = 541.376 in

SL: =L2

SL: =L2

SL = 17.577 in SL = 270.688 in


Modeling Combustion and Flow in theSR-30 Turbojet Engine

Cadet Matthew A. Kania and Cadet Raevon M. Pulliam

Faculty Mentor: Dr. Matthew R. Hyre, Department of Mechanical Engineering

ABSTRACTIn a turbojet engine, efficiency is a key component to engine performance when trying to geta maximum output of thrust. In an attempt to analyze performance, the SR-30 TurbojetEngine owned by the Virginia Military Institute was used to create a computational model ofthe turbojet engine. The model was created and analyzed using Inventor, Gambit, Harpoon,and FLUENT by combining a previously-made combustion model with a model of thecompression side. The compressor model was made by using scaled pictures of the actualcomponents. Once this model was created, it was checked against the actual turbojet enginefor accuracy. This fundamental model can be used as a platform to optimize fuel to airmixture, and modified nozzles can be created and installed on the turbojet to see if actualperformance is improved. To enhance the instructional use of the SR-30, severalinterchangeable nozzles can be created so that engineering students can observe how thefuel to air mixture affects the thrust of the engine.

INTRODUCTION

The SR-30 turbojet engine is aself-contained, small-scale turbojet engine [1,2]. It was purchased in the MechanicalEngineering Department with the intentionof using it in a hands-on laboratory setting tosupplement undergraduate courses such as:thermodynamics, flight mechanics, andenergy conversion. Before releasing it in alaboratory setting, it has been used as aresearch tool in order to enhance itseducational potential.

ACQUIRING EXPERIMENTAL DATA

The first step in this project was to acquireactual data from the SR-30 Turbojet Engine

to input into the computational model and tovalidate the model after results wereacquired. In order to gather this data, twodata loggers and several pieces of equipmentwere needed. After essential equipment wasobtained, the engine was run untilsteady-state operation was achieved at45,000 revolutions per minute (rpm).Experimental data can be seen in Table 1.

COMPRESSOR SIMULATION

With the completion of the geometrycreation and meshing of the compressor sideof the turbojet engine, the next majorcomponent of the project was setting up forcalculations in the commercial computational


79

fluid dynamic software FLUENT. UsingFLUENT, the air flow through the nozzle,compressor, and diffuser was analyzed. Thecomplexities of the runs were graduallyincreased to ultimately include theoperational properties and performanceparameters of the engine. A total of six trialruns were completed before a model thatdepicted the behavior of the engineemerged.

Four primary test parameters were alteredthroughout the project until the model wasconsidered to be complete and as accurate astime would allow. The four varyingparameters were the boundary conditionswhich were comprised of the compressor,the nozzle inlet, and the diffuser outlet aswell as the material properties. In the finalsimulation of the compressor side, thecompressor blades were assigned a rotationalvelocity of 4,712.4 rad/s (45,000 rpm), thenozzle inlet was set as a mass flow inlet with0.114 kg/s of air entering at 300K, thediffuser outlet was set as a pressure outletwith a gauge pressure of 38,955.38 Pa anda backflow total temperature of 353K. Thematerial properties of air can be seen inTable 2.

FLOW ANALYSIS OFTHE COMBUSTOR

With the completion of the geometrycreation and meshing of the combustor sideof the turbojet engine, the next majorcomponent of the project was setting up

runs in FLUENT to analyze the air flowthrough the combustor. The complexities ofthe runs were gradually increased toultimately include the operational propertiesand performance parameters of the engine.A total of eight trial runs were completedbefore a model that depicted the behavior ofthe engine emerged.

In order to analyze the flow through thecombustor, a steady solver was selected, theenergy equation was turned on, and atwo-equation K-� viscous model was chosen.Initial preparation also included definingspecies and discrete phase models in orderto model the interaction of the kerosene andair as well as the chemical reactionsoccurring during the combustion. Thespecies model was set to “transport andreaction” so that a combustion table could becreated for the non-premixed combustionwith inlet diffusion that occurs in thecombustor. The boundary condition of thespecies model was set for the air and fuelcoming into the combustor. The discretephase model was set up to track the particlesof fuel entering the combustor. The discretephase model was set to “interactioncontinuous phase,” updating every fiveiterations, which means that the particles offuel were updated every five iterations. Thetracking was set to a maximum number ofsteps of 10,000 at a length scale of 0.01 m,which were the FLUENT suggested settingsfor non-premixed combustion.

The final configuration produced aconverged solution with combustion, consisting

Table 1. Experimental Data

Nozzle Exit Pressure 0.465 PSIG 3206.1 PaCompressor Inlet Temperature 532.5 R 295.8 KCompressor Exit Temperature 635 R 352.8 KCompressor Exit Pressure 5.65 PSIG 38955 PaTurbine Inlet Temperature 1370 R 761.1 KTurbine Inlet Pressure 5.7 PSIG 39300.1 PaTurbine Exit Temperature 1310 R 727.8 KTurbine Exit Pressure 0.885 PSIG 6101.6 PaExhaust Gas Temperature 1552 R 845.6 KFuel Flow Rate (at room temp) 0.00395 lbs/s 0.00179 kg/sRPM 450000 45000Mass Air Flow Rate 0.251 lbs/s 0.114 kg/s


of air entering at 650K and 0.114 kg/s, fuelentering at 650K and 0.00179 kg/s, andturbine blades spinning at the operational45000 RPM (4712.4 rad/s). The temperatureprofile through the combustor in this run canbe seen in Fig. 1.

COMBINING COMPRESSOR ANDCOMBUSTOR MODELS

This step completed the model by takingthe two halves and combining them into onecomplete model. A final model was run withthe exit conditions of the compressor servingas the inlet conditions to the combustor.Profiles of velocity, temperature, pressure,and turbulence were exported from theresults of the compressor run and importedas inlet conditions for the combustor run.Figure 2 shows a temperature plot of thecombustor and turbine area of the engine.

Since this project was heavilycomputational, it was important to have amethod of validation to ensure the model

was accurately predicting real-time results.Two methods of validation were employed inthis project, and both showed that the modelwas sufficiently accurate in predicting actualengine behavior and performance. The firstvalidation used was a direct comparison ofexperimental and computational compressoroutlet temperatures and exhaust gastemperatures. By this initial comparison, themaximum percent error was 7.9%. Thesecond method of validation was through athermodynamic analysis on the system usingboth computational and experimental results.This validation further showed that the modelwas an accurate representation of what washappening in the engine.

EXPERIMENTAL VALIDATION

In an effort to validate the computationalmodel using experimentally collected data,two main state point temperatures werecompared, and a thermodynamic analysis

Figure 1. Temperature Profile in Combustor

Table 2. Material Properties of Air

Density � kg/m3 Ideal gas Calc. by FLUENTSpecific Heat cp J/kg-K Constant 1006.43Thermal Conductivity k W/m-K Constant 0.0242Viscosity µ kg/m-s Constant 1.7894 × 10−5

Molecular Weight MW kg/kmol Constant 28.966

Kania and Pulliam / Modeling Combustion and Flow in the SR-30 Turbojet Engine 81

was performed on the cycle. Thetemperature for the compressor outlet andthe exhaust gas temperature were comparedfor initial validation. In comparing theexperimental and computational compressoroutlet temperature, a percent error of 7.9%was calculated. The compressor outlettemperature predicted by the computationalmodel was 325 K whereas the experimentaltemperature was 352.8 K. The results fromthe computational model of the compressorare shown in Fig. 3.

In addition, the computational andexperimental exhaust gas temperatures werecompared and a percent error was calculatedto be 3.5%. The exhaust gas temperaturepredicted by the computational model was875 K whereas the experimentaltemperature was 845.6 K. The exhaust gastemperature was chosen for comparison fortwo primary reasons: one computationallydriven and the other experimentally driven.The exhaust gas temperature thermocoupleis located on the exterior of the engine, so itsplacement is easily viewed. As with all of thetemperature probes, the reading is heavilydependent on the location of the probe.Computationally, the exhaust gas locationhas little discontinuity in the temperatureprofile, so the value was easily read and didnot rely precisely on the location of the

probe. A plot of the computed exhaust gastemperatures is shown in Fig. 4.

Upon comparing the temperatures andattempting to quantify the effects of addingthe backflow pressure to the compressor, itwas decided to do a thermodynamic analysison the system. The system was assumed tobe operating at steady-state. This was a validassumption from both the experimental andcomputational aspects. Experimentally, theengine had been stabilized at 45,000 rpmbefore data was recorded. Computationally,it was decided to run the model as

Figure 2. Temperature Plot of Combined Model(Combustor)

Figure 4. Computational Value of Exhaust GasTemperature

Figure 3. Computational Value of CompressorOutlet Temperature


steady-state, which was ultimately consistentwith the collection of experimental data. Itwas assumed that the only load on theturbine was the compressor, signifying thatthe work of the turbine and compressor wereequal and opposite. The process wasassumed to be adiabatic, since there were nomajor sources of heat loss in the system.Pressure loss through the combustor wasconsidered to be negligible. With the massflow rate of fuel (0.00179 kg/s) so muchsmaller than the mass flow rate of air (0.114kg/s), the mass flow rate of fuel wasassumed to be negligible. Since the massflow rate of fuel was assumed to benegligible, specific heat data of air was usedto approximate the combustion of gas in theengine.

The first part of the thermodynamicanalysis was completed using experimentalvalues of temperature and mass flow rate.Using experimentally collected compressorinlet and outlet temperatures and mass flowrate, the work of the compressor wascalculated. Next, using the experimentallycollected turbine inlet temperature, andsetting work of the turbine equal andopposite to work of the compressor, apredicted turbine outlet temperature wascalculated. This theoretically-predicted valuewas compared to the actual experimentalturbine outlet temperature and a percenterror of 2.7% was determined.

The second part of the thermodynamicanalysis involved using values for compressorinlet and outlet temperatures and velocitiesfound through computational techniques.This part of the analysis took velocity effectsinto account, when the previous oneassumed them to be negligible due to lack ofexperimental data. Following the samegeneral procedure as before, the work of thecompressor was calculated. However, in thisanalysis, it was decided to use thecomputationally acquired exhaust gastemperature and subtract the work of the

compressor to find an adjusted exhaust gastemperature. This was done because workwas put into the compressor in the model byforcing flow through the inlet up to a higherpressure (the backflow pressure) and had tobe removed from the system. After removingthe work that was put into the compressorby forcing a backflow pressure, the percenterror between the adjusted computationalexhaust gas temperature and theexperimental exhaust gas temperature wascalculated to be 0.713%.

CONCLUSIONS

With the completion of combining thecompressor and combustor side of themodel, a “complete” SR-30 computationalmodel was constructed. This model includedaccurate re-creations of the SR-30 nozzle,compressor, combustor, and turbine. Thedata that was output from the finalcomputational run was validated fromexperimentally-collected data. These resultswere also used to perform a thermodynamicvalidation of the system. With the completionof this model, there are several opportunitiesto continue research in this area including:developing computational methodology toextract energy from the gas as it passesthrough the turbine, computationally alteringnozzle geometries for optimum fuel/airmixture in the combustor, and experimentallytesting nozzle designs developed in CFDsimulations and upgrades to the DAS.

REFERENCES[1] Turbine Technologies, 2007, “Gas Turbine

Lab/MiniLab [Summary of Product].”[2] Witkowski, T. W. S., Duenas, C.O.,

Strykowski, P., and Simon, T., 2003,“Characterizing the Performance of the SR-30Turbojet Engine,” Proceedings of the 2003American Society for Engineering EducationAnnual Conference & Exposition, AmericanSociety for Engineering Education.

Kania and Pulliam / Modeling Combustion and Flow in the SR-30 Turbojet Engine 83

ABOUT THECONTRIBUTING EDITORS

J. Tyler Dickovick received his M.P.A. and Ph.D. degrees from the Woodrow Wilson Schoolat Princeton University. His research is on democratic institutions in Latin America and Africa,and his published works include articles on decentralization and federalism. He has conductedresearch in Brazil, Peru, Senegal, and South Africa, among other countries, and he was aPeace Corps volunteer in Togo from 1995 to 1997. Dr. Dickovick is an Assistant Professor ofPolitics at Washington & Lee University.

Timothy C. Dowling received his doctorate from Tulane University after completing amaster’s degree at the University of Virginia. He is the author of The Brusilov Offensive(Indiana University Press, 2008) and the editor of Personal Perspectives: World War I andPersonal Perspectives: World War II (ABC-CLIO). He is the associate editor of theEncyclopedia of the Cold War (6 vol., ABC-CLIO). Dr. Dowling is an Associate Professor ofHistory at the Virginia Military Institute.

Dennis M. Foster received his doctorate from the Pennsylvania State University. His areas ofexpertise include the domestic politics of American foreign policy and terrorist andcounterterrorist strategy. His work has been published in International Studies Quarterly,Foreign Policy Analysis, and Conflict Management and Peace Science, and he serves asbook review editor for the Journal of Conflict Studies. Dr. Foster is an Assistant Professor ofInternational Studies and Political Science at the Virginia Military Institute.

Matthew R. Hyre received his Ph.D. in Mechanical Engineering from the MassachusettsInstitute of Technology. His areas of research include computational biomedicine, numericalmodeling of manufacturing processes, and environmental technologies. He has spent the pastten years incorporating virtual design techniques into industrial applications. He is an AssociateProfessor of Mechanical Engineering at the Virginia Military Institute.

Christopher S. Lassiter earned a Ph.D. in Genetics from Duke University. His researchinterests include the effects of steroid hormones in embryonic development as well as theeffects of environmental mimics of steroid hormones. He is currently an Assistant Professor ofBiology at Roanoke College where he also sponsors the Biology Club.

J. Holt Merchant holds a Ph.D. in American History from the University of Virginia. Histeaching and research interests focus on the history of the South, especially the Civil Warperiod and the generals of the Confederacy. He is the co-editor of Ending with a Flourish(Mariner, 2007) and has published numerous book reviews. Dr. Merchant is Head andProfessor in the Department of History at Washington & Lee University.


85

Malcolm Muir, Jr. holds a Ph.D. in History from Ohio State University. He directs the JohnA. Adams ’71 Center for Military History and Strategic Analysis and has also held theSecretary of the Navy’s Research Chair in Naval History and visiting positions at the U.S.Military Academy and the Air War College. His publications include 87 articles, encyclopediaentries, and essays; 52 book reviews; and several books, including Iowa-Class Battleships(Sterling, 1991) and Black Shoes and Blue Water: Surface Warfare in the U.S. Navy 1945–1975 (Blandford, 1987). Dr. Muir holds the Henry King Burgwyn Jr. Boy Colonel of theConfederacy Chair in Military History at the Virginia Military Institute.

Eric W. Osborne received his doctorate from Texas Christian University. His researchinterests include world history, modern European history, imperialism, and military history. Heis the author of numerous encyclopedia entries and four books dealing with subjects in foreignpolicy and military history: Britain’s Economic Blockade of Germany, 1914–1919 (FrankCass, 2004), Cruisers and Battle Cruisers (ABC-CLIO, 2004), Destroyers (ABC-CLIO,2005), and The Battle of Heligoland Bight (Indiana University Press, 2006). Dr. Osborne isan Assistant Professor of History at the Virginia Military Institute.

Christopher Russell, JD holds degrees from Dartmouth College and Notre Dame LawSchool. He is the Commonwealth’s Attorney for the City of Buena Vista, Virginia, a positionhe has held since his election in 2004. Mr. Russell is an Adjunct Professor at the Washington& Lee University School of Law and an Adjunct Instructor in the Department of InternationalStudies and Political Science at the Virginia Military Institute.

Gerald A. Sullivan holds a Ph.D. in Mechanical Engineering from Rensselaer PolytechnicInstitute. His areas of research include underground sound transmission, machine design, andrapid prototyping. He is an Associate Professor of Mechanical Engineering at the VirginiaMilitary Institute.


UNDERGRADUATE RESEARCHAT VMI

New Horizons represents the latest facetof the VMI Undergraduate Research

Initiative (URI), established in 2002 bydirective of the Dean of Faculty, Dr. CharlesF. Brower, IV (Brigadier General, U.S. ArmyRetired). The goal of the URI is to providecadets with meaningful undergraduateacademic research experiences throughone-on-one interaction with faculty mentorsboth inside and outside the traditionalclassroom environment. Over the course ofits five year history, URI efforts to promotecadet research have focused on the followingobjectives:

� Revision of the curriculum and elevationof cadet standards and expectationsmaking cadet participation in researchprojects a typical part of the VMIacademic experience.

� Solidification of faculty support through:1) incentives merited by the additionalresponsibilities of supervising individualcadet research projects and 2) theallocation of additional faculty positionsin designated areas of expertise.

� Expansion of institutional support tocadets involved in research and theirfaculty mentors.

Since its inception, the VMI UndergraduateResearch Initiative has expanded in manydirections, thanks to ongoing administrativesupport, the generosity of alumniorganizations, cadets’ intellectual curiosity,and faculty enterprise. Currently, the URIfunds various grant programs and symposiain support of cadet research made available

to departments, faculty, and cadets through avariety of programs.

The URI laid the foundation forundergraduate research at VMI through itsDepartment/Program Innovation Grantsfor Developing Programs. InnovationGrants provide funding to departments andprograms offering capstone researchexperiences with the following priorities:1)those without a capstone researchexperience in their curriculum, but proposingto develop and implement one; 2) thosealready having a plan for a capstoneresearch experience, but needing funds forimplementation; 3) those already having afully functioning capstone researchexperience, but seeking funds to improve it;4) and those already having a fullyfunctioning capstone research experience,but seeking funds to reward participatingfaculty mentors.

Cadets seeking research funds may applyto the Wetmore Cadet Research Fund, acompetitive grant process which allows themto purchase supplies, to travel to symposiafocused on their thesis research, to continuewith the previous summer’s research, and/orto conduct field studies. Wetmore funds areallocated by academic session and areavailable throughout the year. URI CadetResearch Resources also subsidize travel,allowing cadets to present their projectresults at meetings/symposia or to conductfield research in preparation for completionof research leading to an honors thesisduring the academic year or summer sessions.

One of the most successful initiatives ofthe URI, the Summer Undergraduate


87

Research Institute (SURI) provides fundingon a competitive basis for cadet-facultyresearch teams representing almost everyacademic department at VMI. Each cadetreceives a cash award along with free tuition,room, and board for ten weeks, while eachfaculty mentor receives a stipend. Cadets alsoearn 6 academic credit hours for their work.

In addition to the mentored researchprojects, the Summer Institute sponsors anorientation session, guest speakers, andsocial functions. Cadets present the results oftheir project in a research symposium held inSeptember.

All cadets are invited to submit a proposal tothe Undergraduate Research Symposium(URS), held annually in April. Cadetpresenters at the URS discuss the results oftheir research in a poster exhibition hall(informal demonstrations) or in a formalsession (lecture format) as part of a specialcampus-wide day of events. Invited facultymembers from other colleges and universitiesassist in the evaluation of cadet presentations.The three top-rated cadets in each academicdivision (science, engineering, and humanities)are honored at an awards dinner in theevening.

The evaluation of cadets’ work andconstructive feedback we have received fromour colleagues from other campuses havehelped us to improve the Symposiumeach year. As an added benefit, theinteractions between VMI faculty and theexternal judges have laid the groundwork forfuture, inter-institutional collaborations onundergraduate research.

Perhaps the most significant cooperativeeffort in support of cadet research to date

was the 2005 National Conference onUndergraduate Research, jointly sponsoredby VMI and neighboring Washington & LeeUniversity. Two thousand undergraduateresearchers, along with three hundredprofessors and administrators representingthree hundred colleges, attended the three-dayconference held on the hosting campuses.

An unexpected outcome of URI-supportedundergraduate research activities has beenthe creation of cadet-developed intellectualproperty. Currently the URI is assistingseveral cadet teams through the process ofobtaining patent protection for theirinventions. Additionally, we have used thereal-world examples of these cadet inventionsas case studies in an academic classroomsetting, specifically as the subject of amarketing and business plan development ina course on entrepreneurship.

The URI is led by Dr. James E Turner,Director of Undergraduate Research, andProfessor of Chemistry/Biology, who wasappointed to this position in 2001 by theDean of Faculty. As Director of UndergraduateResearch, Dr. Turner chairs the URICommittee, which includes representativesfrom all VMI academic departments, and isresponsible for the management andoperation of the various undergraduateresearch programs and activities, as well asstrategic planning of the URI. ProfessorTurner, by virtue of his position, is a memberof the Dean’s extended staff and reports tothat office in all URI matters.

Source. Dr. James E. Turner, Director ofUndergraduate Research, Virginia MilitaryInstitute


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