Dennis Gormley passed away on October 15, 2020, and I still can’t find the words to capture the sense of loss that I’ve been feeling ever since. Dennis was my husband and my best friend. For the past 17 years we were, as he liked to say, “joined at the hip,” working, traveling, laughing, and enjoying life with friends and family, always together. His passing created a big void in my life, but the outpouring of letters from former students, friends, colleagues, and perfect strangers reminded me that my sadness was shared by many and that his life and work will have a lasting impact on the security field and on the lives of those who crossed his path.
For many, Dennis is known as the world’s leading expert in cruise missile proliferation; sometimes he was introduced as the “king of cruise missiles.” His natural modesty made him wince at these grandiose titles but they were well deserved, and I particularly liked the second one, because if he was king, that made me queen of something. Dennis was indeed a forward thinker, often ahead of the curve as far as identifying security challenges. His book Missile Contagion, published in 2008, elevated the threat of land-attack cruise missiles to the level of collective consciousness, influencing how the United States and other countries think about this threat. His authority on cruise missiles was such that, at a conference overseas where he was invited as a speaker, a foreign government official asked him if he would authorize the sale of American cruise missiles to his country! In reflecting on why Missile Contagion has had such a profound impact on understanding the cruise missile threat and why so many researchers, including myself, continue to reread the book to remind themselves of specific details or technical information, I realized that Missile Contagion was in fact a microcosm of Dennis’s extraordinary career. In this journal of nonproliferation record, I would like to highlight aspects of Dennis’s career that informed his approach to security challenges and gave him broad and deep knowledge that, as long-time friend and colleague at the University of Pittsburgh Phil Williams put it, allowed him to merge technology, politics, and strategy in a way few other people did.
In reading Dennis’s writings, one cannot help noticing the elegance and clarity of his prose. Dennis was always fascinated by the written word, and he often said that he owed his longstanding interest in good writing to Sister Benedict, an 89-year-old nun in his Catholic school, who hammered into her pupils the importance of writing well and without errors, even during mathematics lessons. But the clarity of Dennis’s writing is also due to his extraordinary career that spanned more than 50 years as a practitioner and researcher of international security, with deep roots in intelligence, nuclear weapons, missile technology, arms control, military strategy, tactics and operations, and policy and threat assessments.
Dennis was thrown into the field of international security by way of the Vietnam War, which derailed his plans of becoming a history teacher. After graduation from the University of Connecticut with a master’s degree in history in 1966, he joined the Army and attended the US Army Officer Candidate School at Aberdeen Proving Ground, Maryland. He was commissioned as a second lieutenant, soon to be promoted to first lieutenant, in the Ordnance Corps and selected for a special intelligence assignment at Army Materiel Command Headquarters (AMC) in Washington, DC.
Dennis used to recall his time at the AMC as a formative period in his personal and professional life. At only 23 years old, he was responsible for preparing and delivering weekly briefings on current and technical intelligence, notably about the conflict in Vietnam, to the AMC Command Group of 22 general officers. Dennis remembers an episode early in his posting that impressed on him the importance of clarity and accuracy in delivering strategic information. During one weekly briefing, Dennis was preceded by a colonel, who was responsible for briefing the generals on a matter related to the Vietnam War. The generals relentlessly questioned the colonel on details that he could not offer, to the point of bringing tears to the colonel’s eyes. Needless to say, Dennis was petrified at the thought of being subjected to the same treatment, or worse, in his briefing that followed. The briefing was a blur, but it seemed to have gone well, because Dennis only remembers answering pointed questions with what seemed to be satisfying answers. After that episode, he made sure to fully check the information and anticipate possible questions. In the text accompanying an Army Commendation Medal awarded to Dennis for his work at the AMC, the commanding general noted that “[Dennis’s] ability to establish rapport with senior military and civilian members of the military establishment and his outstanding attention to details earned him extensive praise.” He also noted Dennis’s significant contribution “to the formalization of policies and procedures to ensure adequate consideration of intelligence in the development of United States ground force equipment, thus increasing the operational … superiority of this equipment.”Footnote1 While at the AMC, Dennis also initiated bimonthly foreign intelligence technical reports, which the AMC adopted and distributed throughout the command.Footnote2 The AMC was a mammoth organization with more than 160,000 people and a budget exceeding $14 billion,Footnote3 so the circulation of his reports throughout the Command was no small feat, particularly for a person in his mid- to late twenties.
The AMC also taught him an important lesson about treating people well. Notwithstanding the briefing episode, one of the AMC commanding officers made it a point to meet with Dennis periodically to see if he was satisfied with his position, which Dennis consistently was. The general’s acknowledged objective was to convince Dennis to extend his commitment to the Army because he was sure that Dennis would one day achieve promotion to a general officer. As appealing as the prospect might have been, Dennis never planned for a long military career; his passion was in education and he intended to go back to that field after the war. Nevertheless, he continued serving the Army a few more years, and after completing his military service, he began federal civil service as an intelligence research specialist with assignments supporting the US Army Foreign Science and Technology Center. In 1972, Dennis was promoted to chief of foreign intelligence at Harry Diamond Laboratories (HDL), where he worked until 1979.
Work at HDL was another major stage of Dennis’s career. In its heyday—from 1940 to 1978—HDL possessed an extraordinary reputation as a center for technological innovation. Its eponymous founding technical director, Harry Diamond, led the development of the radar proximity fuze, which government authorities later proclaimed to be either the preeminent scientific and technical advance of World War II or second only to the atomic bomb.Footnote4 During his tenure at HDL, Dennis developed and managed an intelligence program supporting research, development, and acquisition of battlefield surveillance, target acquisition, electronic ordnance systems, and research and testing on nuclear-weapon effects. As the head of foreign intelligence, Dennis routinely interacted with HDL scientists and engineers working in the field of electronics, missiles, radar systems, and nuclear technology. Dennis often said that HDL’s scientific and engineering staff treated him as a fellow scientist and engaged him in their technical discussions, which offered him countless opportunities to acquire technical expertise and a deep understanding of the strengths and weaknesses of technological developments, which was essential to qualify intelligence about enemy developments. He also managed a large foreign-materiel-exploitation program, especially in the aftermath of the 1973 Middle East War, which sometimes involved reverse-engineering enemy missiles— taking them apart to understand how they worked. As Dennis put it, for someone interested in technology, that was like being a kid in a candy shop. Being the height of the Cold War, much of Dennis’s analytical work focused on the Soviet Union. He pioneered investigation of Soviet systems for the logistics and the command and control of nuclear weapons, substantially influencing intelligence warning and targeting programs. Other major study efforts included assessments of Soviet limited visibility or night operations and Soviet theater nuclear force capabilities.
For Dennis, HDL was also fertile terrain to observe and learn management skills that promote innovation. Although HDL’s 10 laboratories were subordinate to the AMC and administered by a military commander, the organization was surprisingly devoid of bureaucratic and administrative rigidity. That was largely due to the tradition of scientific openness established, sometimes forcefully, by the civilian technical director. In 2012, I interviewed Dennis about his time at Harry Diamond for a chapter of my book that dealt with the management of weapons programs. Dennis recalled an event that paints a striking picture of the role of the technical director in signaling the dominance of civilian over military culture at HDL. When a new commanding officer was assigned in 1972, the technical director, Billy M. Horton, instructed his senior staff to remain seated when the officer entered the conference room to attend his inaugural senior staff meeting. Although the officer seemed to be startled by this breach of military protocol, he sat and met with the staff without discussing the incident. That tradition of scientific openness and unfettered interdisciplinary work is something Dennis would later adopt and promote at Pacific Sierra Research (PSR), which he joined in 1979.
Although PSR was a private government contractor—a spin-off of the RAND Corporation—Dennis’s transition from government to the private sector occurred almost seamlessly. Much of his work at PSR was an extension of the work performed in previous years. After joining PSR, Dennis built PSR’s Military Operations Policy Analysis Group, which focused on studying Soviet military operations, doctrine, and strategy and its implications for Western defense, as well as arms-control planning and monitoring, among other things. The group pioneered new analytical approaches to understanding the Soviet nuclear-weapon logistics system and helped shape verification protocols for the 1987 Intermediate-range Nuclear Forces Treaty and the 1991 and 1993 Strategic Arms Reductions Treaties. Although Dennis rose to become the company’s senior vice president and a member of the board of directors, he continued to be directly involved in research projects, publishing extensively, testifying before Congress on multiple occasions about various aspects of international security, including NATO and the Soviet threat, serving on governmental and nongovernmental advisory groups, and engaging a varied group of experts and analysts around the world via conferences and lecturing at universities and military institutions.
During the PSR years, Dennis’s peripatetic schedule and his deep and broad knowledge of international security problems helped establish him as an apolitical “go-to” expert on the Soviet threat, ballistic- and cruise-missile proliferation, and the use of drones and unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs) by state and non-state actors, as well as other security challenges, such as those posed by China and North Korea. It would be impossible to fully describe Dennis’s work and achievements at PSR, because much of it was classified or confidential. But former PSR colleagues highlighted that his and his team’s work influenced decisions made by various government agencies, including the Central Intelligence Agency’s Arms Control Intelligence Staff, the On-site Inspection Agency, the National Reconnaissance Office, the Office of the Secretary of Defense, and the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency. Dennis’s friends also jokingly claim that he may have helped make Dan Quayle vice president because he gave then-Senator Quayle a series of private briefings on Soviet conventional and nuclear weapons and strategy, and NATO’s vulnerabilities to Soviet missiles, thus elevating his international security expertise.
Dennis was also among the few researchers who analyzed security problems from the less obvious angles. Long-time friend and former assistant vice president at PSR Chuck Appleby indicated that Dennis was without question the leading expert in mobile missile operations, and was among the early advocates of using critical node analysis—identification of critical pieces of equipment and processes that are essential to the readiness and operations of weapons systems—to understand Soviet mobile missile operations. For example, during the Cold War, the Soviet Union claimed that it did not deploy nuclear weapons in Germany. Dennis thought that one way to investigate that claim was to find out whether the Soviet Union stored Mobile Technical Rocket Bases (PTRBs in Russian), which he believed were used to assemble Soviet warheads and missiles in Europe. Since the Soviet Union stored the nuclear warheads and missiles at different locations to prevent unauthorized use, finding the location of PTRBs could potentially signal the presence of nuclear warheads. At the time, the intelligence community believed that nuclear-weapon storage sites necessarily had specific security systems, including double fencing, and had zeroed in on several such sites in East Germany as potential targets. Dennis challenged that idea, arguing that the Soviets were masters at deception and could conceivably have stored nuclear weapons at facilities with single fences in East Germany. These two ideas came together when, in the 1980s, a young Soviet conscript based in East Germany defected. His initial debriefing revealed no useful information, except that he worked at a PTRB facility. Dennis’s long-time friend Richard Clarke, who knew of Dennis’s interest in PTRBs, invited him to debrief the conscript a second time. The debriefing confirmed Dennis’s hypotheses that PTRBs were indeed used to mate warheads and missiles, and that the storage sites that the US intelligence community had identified as the location of nuclear warheads were in fact empty. After the fall of the Berlin Wall, Dennis went to the site where the conscript said the warheads were stored in East Germany, observing with satisfaction that the site had just a single fence.Footnote5
Another example of Dennis’s unusual thought process was his approach to understanding a country’s or terrorist group’s ability to use dual-use technology for weapons purposes. While much of the focus since the 1980s has been on access to technology as a sure path to weapons development, Dennis’s approach was to focus on the people who composed a program and their level of expertise. This approach is well illustrated in a study he conducted in the 1990s to understand how a country such as Iran or Iraq could convert the Chinese Silkworm, a short-range antiship cruise missile, into a long-range land-attack cruise missile (LACM). The study, which was entirely theoretical, looked at what parts of the missile would need modification, the expertise that would be required, and whether the technology was accessible; he concluded that the conversion could indeed happen (though no such missile was actually ever built). The key questions, however, were whether the modified missile would fly, and how long it would take for a team to achieve a satisfactory result. The study's conclusion was that a team would find it challenging to integrate into a coherent whole the various changes made to the missile—notably modified engine, and navigation and guidance systems—and would require three to six years, depending on the type and extent of foreign technical assistance received. Access to experienced missile engineers and appropriate technology would reduce the time frame, while access to blueprints and other documents alone would extend the development process. When, in 1998, Dennis and a colleague briefed the Commission to Assess the Ballistic Missile Threat to the United States about their findings, Commission Chair Donald Rumsfeld brushed off the findings, stressing that, in his view, a country like Iraq could achieve satisfactory results in just a year. A few years later, after the 2003 invasion of Iraq, the Iraq Survey Group revealed that the Iraqis had indeed attempted to convert the Silkworm into a LACM under the Jinin project, building on a previous project that extended the missile’s range from 100 kilometers to about 150 kilometers. The Iraqis worked on it for about a year, but accomplished very little. They indeed struggled with integrating an engine into the airframe, probably selecting the wrong engine, and had not even started working on the navigation system. The head of the Jinin project estimated that, had the project continued uninterrupted, it would have taken them three to five years to complete the conversion, confirming Dennis’s original assessment. But, considering the challenges they faced just with the engine modification, Dennis’s view was that it would have taken the Iraqis even longer than he originally anticipated.Footnote6
Dennis was very fond of his time at PSR, not only because the company did important and exciting work, but also because he genuinely enjoyed the people with whom he worked. Former colleagues stated that Dennis created a wonderful work environment. He sought out good thinkers, gave them the resources needed, and let them do good work, providing the right balance of guidance and freedom. But he also made sure to hire people who could work together. New recruits were often subject to strange tests, such as eating the spiciest food in a restaurant. If they handled it well, they were welcome on the team!
I would be remiss if I ended this article without talking about Dennis’s character. Those who knew Dennis are familiar with his extraordinary energy and focus. He could simultaneously work on various studies, teach, travel around the world to conferences and meetings, prepare congressional testimony, publish extensively, and still find the time to train and run six marathons, maintain close friendships with childhood and college friends, and make time for family life.
More importantly, Dennis was known for his kindness and generosity. In talking with friends, colleagues and students, the two words that were most often associated with Dennis were “mentor,” and “generous.” Dennis was indeed a mentor for a countless number of students at the University of Pittsburgh and the Monterey Institute of International Studies (as the Middlebury Institute of International Studies at Monterey was then known) where he taught for 15 years, but also at other universities where he regularly lectured. He spared no time or energy to help them with their studies, careers, and personal lives. I remember once, while fly fishing in the Montana wilderness, he received a phone call from a recruiter who was doing a background investigation about one of his students. Dennis waded up the river to find a spot with cell connection and stayed there for an hour answering questions, eventually allowing the student to get the coveted job. After his students graduated and started their professional lives, he continued to give them career or personal advice, and many became family friends. He was also a mentor to many of his colleagues at PSR, who often used him as a sounding board on various questions, and as one of them puts it “his breadth of knowledge, sound logic, and quiet disposition were instrumental in many important decisions” in their careers. A phrase that often came up when I talked about Dennis with friends, former colleagues, students, and family is that “he was always there.” He was always there for things big and small: to help someone in need, answer a student’s questions, or provide advice and comfort when needed.
Around the end of his life, Dennis wondered whether he had made a lasting impact on the field of security. He clearly had. His work continues to influence policy and Missile Contagion continues to reveal pearls of wisdom. Richard Speier, who worked with Dennis on various studies, reminded me recently that Dennis had predicted that the proliferation of UAVs used for attacks, when it came, would come rapidly. And in a little over a year, we have seen examples of this threat materializing with the use of UAVs by Iran and Azerbaijan. More importantly, his legacy can be found in the people he mentored and cared for, who will continue to carry his message and amplify it. His selflessness is perhaps best illustrated by the last few hours of his life. While his son, daughter, and I surrounded him at the hospital after doctors told us to prepare for the worst, Dennis, who had not opened his eyes or talked for several days, suddenly opened his eyes and greeted each of us as if he had just returned from a long trip, smiling, blowing kisses and “I love yous,” and filling us with joy. I think he sensed our desperation and gathered what strength he had left to give us a parting gift—bittersweet, but a gift nonetheless. He died the following day, but until the end he was there for us. He will always be there.
Notes
1 Army Commendation Medal to First Lieutenant Dennis Gormley, Department of the Army, 1969.
2 Army Commendation for sustained Superior Performance Award, Department of the Army, 1973.
3 “Frank S. Besson Jr.,” Wikipedia, <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frank_S._Besson_Jr>.
4 Vannevar Bush, chairman of the National Defense Research Committee and director of the Office of Scientific Research and Development, reputedly claimed that the proximity fuze was the preeminent scientific and technical advance of the war, despite his initiation of and leadership role in guiding the Manhattan Project. See David R. Lide, ed., Century of Excellence, Measurements, Standards, Chronicle of Selected NBS/NIST Publications, 1901-2000, Special Publication 958 (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 2001), p. 61. The War Department reportedly asserted that the proximity fuze was second only to the atomic bomb. See <http://www.globalsecurity.org/military/facility/adelphi.htm>.
5 For a more detailed account of this story, see Richard A. Clarke, Your Government Failed You: Breaking the Cycle of National Security Disasters (New York, NY: Harper-Collins, 2009), pp. 102-103.
6 Dennis M. Gormley, Missile Contagion: Cruise Missile Proliferation and the Threat to International Security (Westport, CT: Praeger Security International, 2008).