Since the British nuclear deterrent is primarily committed to NATO, joint target planning was conducted at the headquarters of Strategic Command (STRATCOM), at Offutt Airforce Base, Omaha, Nebraska — right in the centre of continental USA. The Royal Navy provided a captain and lieutenant commander as liaison officers. These were lonely postings, as the representatives of other NATO nations that had a tactical nuclear capability had been gradually withdrawn; the two British officers fulfilled a role more symbolic than substantive, in almost complete isolation in a well-appointed suite of empty offices within the base’s large underground complex. That said, during Conley’s periodic visits to STRATCOM, he noted that the hostnation staff were very hospitable and welcoming. He particularly recalled the large screen presentation in the command centre of a simulated all-out nuclear strike, ICBMs being made ready, SSBNs being sent on patrol, and the dramatic scrambling of B-52 bombers — all to very upbeat music with no suggestion that Armageddon was just round the corner. Memorably, the visiting officer accommodation was to the highest standard he had ever encountered. General Curtis Le May, the controversial head of the US Strategic Air Command in the 1950s, had ensured his aviators were very well looked after when not flying.
Conley happened to serve in the Ministry of Defence at a time which coincided with rekindled interest on the part of the French in taking forward nuclear weapons co-operation with the United Kingdom. France had developed an entirely independent nuclear deterrent and retained a triad of SSBN, land and air based missiles — the Force de Frappe — although the land-based missiles were being phased out in the mid 1990s. As France was not a member of the NATO military structure, there was no joint targeting or exchange of information upon each other’s systems, and co-operation had historically been confined to low-level talks of little substance. Needless to say, as Britain was completely dependent upon the United States for its missile system, great care had been exercised to ensure there was no compromise of the unique bilateral relationship.
However, perhaps owing to the advent of Trident, it was evident that the French were keen to explore all viable avenues of enhanced co-operation and had sent delegations to the MoD to oil the wheels, prior to a formal visit by the directorate’s staff early in 1996 to the French naval air station at Istres, near Marseilles. This was the base for a squadron of nuclear-capable Super Étendard attack aircraft.
The delegation, which included Conley and was led by an air vice-marshal, flew to Istres on an Andover aircraft of the Queen’s Flight. In Istres they were feted for two days by their French hosts, embarking upon a culinary adventure at each meal and being enthusiastically shown the base facilities and the actual nuclear missiles. After lunch on the final day, having been softened up with excellent food and the finest of wine, the rear admiral heading the French side put the case forcibly for significantly escalating the level of nuclear weapons co-operation between the two countries. Although the British team had an interpreter, the French, as is their practice, conducted their part of the talks in their national language and, being highly technical, most of the content of their presentations floated above the heads of Conley’s colleagues. Nevertheless, the British visitors got the general thrust and took away the remit for looking at ways and means of taking forward the joint initiatives which the French clearly sought.
Conley was directed to take forward options and accordingly devised a number of very innocuous proposals, including each country’s SSBN participation in submarine rescue exercises and an exchange of port visits. Also, it was to be agreed that an improved ‘hotline’ be set up between the MoD and the French military headquarters in Paris. Subsequently, the general principles of enhanced nuclear weapons co-operation were agreed between Prime Minister Major and President Chirac at the May 1996 Anglo-French talks in London. It was evident, however, that the French wanted the British to go much further towards developing a European nuclear deterrent and tabled much more ambitious options such as the possibility of sharing communications systems and exchanging information concerning SSBN patrol areas to ensure no chance of inadvertent encounter between submarines on patrol. For a number of very sound reasons, some of which arose from the British relationship with the United States, and perhaps an underlying historical distrust of the French, such proposals were resisted. The wisdom of this conclusion is understandable but, as an incontrovertible footnote, in 2009 HMS Vanguard and the French SSBN Triomphant collided when on patrol in the same area in the eastern Atlantic, neither vessel realising the close proximity of the other before impact. Fortunately, the damage incurred was not serious. On the other hand, it was agreed by treaty in 2010 that the United Kingdom and France will share in developing nuclear warhead reliability-proving facilities in Valduc, France and at AWE Berkshire.
There was one final twist to Conley’s time in the Ministry of Defence. The complex customised software which supported the targeting process had been supported by a private contractor. For a number of years this company had done an excellent job in terms of its competence and responsiveness to problems but, as the contract term was due to expire, there was the necessity under MoD rules to place the contract re-renewal under a competitive tendering process. In ministry terms it was a very modest deal of about £10m in value at 2013 prices spread over five years. The contracted company put in a very acceptable proposal but a second firm also submitted a tender which happened to be below the price of the former. Despite the fact that this second company was known to Conley’s staff as not having the competence or expertise under the existing competition rules, it was they to whom the contract was to be awarded.
Conley accordingly raised his serious concerns with the department responsible for placing and awarding the contract. In due course he was summoned by the head of naval equipment procurement, the Controller of the Navy, to explain his concerns. In a somewhat confrontational set-up, the controller — an admiral — flanked across a table by a number of senior civil servants and a second admiral, the head of the strategic systems executive, he was asked to explain why the cheaper company should not be awarded the contract. Conley outlined the ramifications of the Trident targeting software failing and his serious reservations about this company’s ability to deliver against the contract specification when set against a very satisfactory and proven track record of the existing contractor.
Having heard out Conley’s misgivings, the controller sought advice from his head of contracting who was emphatic that as the undercutting company’s proposal was entirely compliant with the contract criteria, and as its price was below that of the incumbent, by law it must be awarded the contract. The controller agreed and stated that there was no alternative. For his part, Conley was completely astounded by the total absence of common sense, and in the contracting process by the lack of incisive deliberation regarding the ability of the new firm to fulfil the specification.
This divorce from reality in the contracting process was but one minor occurrence in a culture of incompetent defence procurement by the Ministry of Defence, which was to result in the effective bankrupting of the United Kingdom’s defence organisation a decade later.
Conley left the Ministry of Defence shortly afterwards to take up appointment as captain of HMS Dolphin. He learned a few months later that, as he had anticipated, the new contractor had failed to fulfil the requirements of the contract, which had accordingly been terminated and awarded back to the original contractor. He recalled that: