Good morning, everyone. Secretary Del Toro, Senator Cardin, Mayor Scott — thank you for your leadership, for your support of the finest and fiercest fighting force in the world, and of course for being here today.
I am incredibly honored to be the sponsor of the future U.S.S. Baltimore.
Baltimore, and Maryland, have deep meaning for me.
Some of my earliest childhood recollections are from living in Annapolis, just a few hours' sail down the Chesapeake.
And some of my fondest memories are from being back in the Old Line State, for graduate school. It's where I met my husband, after all — we are fellow Terps. And we've spent time here over the years at this very harbor and throughout Baltimore's neighborhoods. So Charm City will always hold a special place in my heart, and now even more so as the Baltimore's sponsor.
And America's submarine force, well, she's just in my blood.
You see, I grew up in a submarine family. The origin story began 73 years ago this past summer, when my father, Jerry Holland, left his landlocked hometown of Iowa City, Iowa, for the western shores of Maryland, to attend the U.S. Naval Academy.
He's never told me exactly why he was drawn to the Navy, but he is a prolific writer, and in one book he observed that "dreams of life at sea can appear at a very young age, and almost always grow in the presence of a ship model, at a museum, on a lake or a pond, or even in a bathtub."
So, anything's possible.
But we do know that for many midshipmen in those nascent days of the Cold War, submarines were the vanguard of the future.
It was the birth of America's nuclear navy. Just a few months before my dad commissioned from Annapolis, the U.S.S. Nautilus went "underway on nuclear power," making headlines and breaking records for speed and endurance.
Meanwhile, Run Silent, Run Deep was one of the year's hottest novels, and would soon be a film starring none other than Clark Gable, the so-called "King of Hollywood."
All the star-studded attention was well deserved.
Think about what it means to serve on a nuclear submarine.
To willfully seal yourself inside a metal canister along with scores of other human beings.
Propelled through the inky black depths of the sea by power generated from the splitting of atoms.
Sensing your environment not by sight, but by sound.
And to do so for weeks if not months at a time, traversing thousands of miles from open sea to crowded ports, without being heard by other ships even if they're steaming right above you.
It takes a special combination of brains, heart, courage, and cool-under-pressure that many admire, but only a few possess. And that's partly why those who join the silent service are consummate quiet professionals.
They don't necessarily brag about being the "best of the best."
They just are.
And my dad was no exception. Like all prospective nuclear submariners in those days, he was personally interviewed by Admiral Rickover, the father of the nuclear navy, to see if young Ensign Holland was up to snuff — and my dad's decades of service as a submariner, retiring as a Rear Admiral, are testament that he was.
Throughout that career, the submarine community was more than just his professional home.
It was a family support system, one in which my mother, Anne Holland, was a leader. One that played an important role for me and my six older brothers and sisters.
It was a community I was born into.
For my siblings and me, submarines were more than just where dad went to work. Like other kids, we played with train sets and paper dolls, but we also played with toy submarines.
[Laughter]
And the real ones were docked down the street, discussed at the dinner table, and a part of our family identity.
It is especially fitting — and I am so grateful — that both of my parents are with us here today.
And as the sponsor of the future U.S.S. Baltimore, SSN-812, I will continue to carry our family's legacy of service, and commitment to the submarine force.
And what a force it is.
As Deputy Secretary of Defense, I'm focused on ensuring America's military has the capabilities required to defend our nation, our allies and partners, and our interests. America's submarines are vital contributors to those goals.
The United States maintains significant overmatch in undersea warfare compared to our pacing challenge, the People's Republic of China. And we're going to keep it that way, even as the PLA Navy continues to modernize. Submarines like Baltimore are a big part of how we're staying in the lead — and not only ahead of the PRC, but also ahead of Russia.
Indeed, years ago my dad wrote in Proceedings that our submarines are "invisible, nearly invulnerable, and capable of operating close to shore to provide large volumes of fire." That's why they're so important to joint force design, and a deterrent to any who might threaten us.
And when we invest together with our allies in advanced conventionally-armed, nuclear-powered submarine capabilities — like we're doing through our AUKUS partnership with Australia and the United Kingdom — it's a win-win for everyone, from Gare Loch to Groton to Garden Island. In fact, Australian sailors completed maintenance on a U.S. nuclear-powered submarine in Australian waters for the first time just this month.
Now, today's boat naming is the beginning of a long journey for the Baltimore: from laydown to launch, shakedown to commissioning, and then a 30-plus-year service life.
And it's built, assembled, outfitted, and evaluated — and as it does so — it will be touched by the hands of a world-class workforce: machinists, welders, pipefitters, systems engineers, technicians, testers and more.
It's a workforce that is benefitting from the Biden-Harris administration's historic investments, in partnership with Congress, to bolster and accelerate the productivity of America's submarine industrial base: so it can support our military and our AUKUS commitment with our Australian and British allies. Over four years of defense budgets and supplemental appropriations, it's about a $10-billion-dollar investment in the future strength and lethality of the silent service.
And when Baltimore joins the fleet, with a world-class crew, it will be among the most agile, lethal, resilient, and capable conventional nuclear-powered submarines we've ever made.
When I think about the boats my father served on and skippered — submarines that patrolled from the North Atlantic to the western Pacific, outfoxing the Soviet Navy time and again — I'm reminded that the Baltimore belongs to a continually-modernized class of attack submarines that are not only larger, more powerful, and more lethal. They also run quieter, deeper, and faster.
It would take over two-and-a-half of those earlier-generation submarines to equal the submerged displacement of a single Virginia-class sub like the Baltimore.
Virginia-class reactors also produce two-and-a-half times more megawatts than the reactors my dad trained on — that's enough electricity to power tens of thousands of Maryland households today — and their turbines also generate over three times more shaft-horsepower for propulsion. That's effectively a 20 percent higher thrust-to-weight ratio.
And compared to the subs my dad commanded, the most lethal Virginia-class submarines coming off the line today can carry two-and-a-half times more munitions, including dozens of anti-ship missiles like the Maritime Strike Tomahawk. And they have 11 times more torpedo and missile tubes.
As my dad once wrote, "the submarine provides a flexibility that presents our leaders with many options. Superior both offensive[ly] and defensive[ly]." In that way, Virginia-class subs are a Swiss Army Knife of naval capabilities:
- They're capable of anti-surface and strike missions, plus anti-submarine warfare.
- They can support special operations.
- They can provide more inputs into our multi-domain awareness.
- They're interoperable with U.S. allies' and partner forces.
- And they're built to be upgraded for even more, with technologies and capabilities that we're still developing today, and even with those that we haven't yet imagined.
Of course, our submarine force is still the ‘silent' service. Even with the passage of time since my dad retired from the Navy, there are still aspects of subs and their missions that he and I cannot share publicly, that remain classified for their ongoing relevance to U.S. national security. And that will be the case for many years to come — just as it will be true for the Baltimore and its future crews.
But make no mistake about Baltimore's purpose. Like all of our submarines, conventional and otherwise, we build them not to provoke war, but rather to prevent wars, through deterrence.
When our would-be adversaries consider the risks of aggression, sometimes they will see the ‘big stick' of U.S. and allied military assets, like the U.S.S. Theodore Roosevelt and our other aircraft carriers. They certainly send a signal, and they have the firepower to back it up.
But other times, there may be advantage in not sending a signal. And for those times, you need something that the other side can't see.
U.S.S. Baltimore — with its stealth, endurance, lethality, and speed — will be just such an asset, part of our unseen advantage. And the only thing the adversary will hear is the sound of silence.
Just over 25 years ago, when the first submarine my father commanded was being decommissioned, he had the opportunity to tour that boat, U.S.S. Pintado. It was "astonishing," he later wrote, to find the sub "in nearly as perfect condition as when she was commissioned."
For over two-and-a-half decades, that submarine had patrolled the seas, helping ensure freedom of navigation and the free flow of commerce, so that Americans, our allies, and many more people around the world could sleep soundly at night, live free, and prosper.
Dad, to you and all your shipmates past: thank you for having the watch. Mom, thank you for everything you did to lead pier-side, from running Family Service Centers to running the family.
America is grateful for the service you both gave, and the sacrifices you both made, on all of our behalf. And I am grateful.
[Applause]
Thank you.
Today, and every day, I'm thankful to those who built that submarine, who served aboard it, and who supported them and their families — just as I'm grateful to those who will do the same for the U.S.S. Baltimore.
Someday not too far off, I'll be honored to welcome the future Baltimore's crew as an extended part of that family. I'll be proud to know it will be the best submarine our country's ever made: beautiful and deadly. It won't be built overnight, but it will be built to last.
A quarter of a century from now, in 2049 and long beyond, the U.S.S. Baltimore will still be standing guard, out on patrol, so that we all — Americans, our allies, and hopefully the world — can sleep soundly at night, live free, and prosper.
Thank you.
[Applause]