First Breakfast

343 posts

First Breakfast banner
First Breakfast

First Breakfast

@FirstBreakfast

Mobilizing for tomorrow, today.

Katılım Haziran 2024
18 Takip Edilen1.2K Takipçiler
First Breakfast
First Breakfast@FirstBreakfast·
In 1942, Japanese dive bombers were shredding U.S. ships. The fix—the proximity fuze—wasn't ready until 1944. So the Navy did two things at once: it maxed out production of existing ammo and funded the new tech. That's why the fleet survived. The United States is in a similar bind as it tries to combat drones and cheap missiles—and our defense is bleeding us dry. When the USS Gerald R. Ford strike group hit Iran this year, nine destroyers fired 207 Tomahawks. That's just 1 offensive weapon for every 4 launch cells. The other three-quarters of their cells were devoted to shooting down incoming drones and missiles. That tradeoff would be unsurvivable in a fight against China. The dream fix—the “proximity fuze” of our day—is directed energy: lasers that kill drones for single-digit dollars per shot. But lasers still have serious technical issues to overcome, and the ships that can power it don't yet exist. So the United States is traveling through the death valley of tech adoption: the lab demos work, but the tech isn’t ready while the threat exists today. Washington’s default setting is to treat the problem as an either/or. Cut missiles to fund lasers, or starve lasers because "they've been 10 years away for 30 years." Both instincts get people killed. The answer: FILL THE MAGAZINE AND FUND THE BEAM. Do both. The missile threat is too serious for current or future capabilities to fall victim to a funding fight or bureaucratic warfare. That means ramping production of the interceptors that protect our sailors and allies today: fixing the solid rocket motor bottleneck with multi-year contracts, giving industry the demand signal to build new lines. It means real-time visibility into expenditure of munitions and global inventory. But it also means walling off laser R&D from the budget fights that always cannibalize future tech to pay for today. The private sector deftly balances priorities every quarter. Apple ships iPhones while building Vision Pro. Ford runs the F-150 line while building its future EV platform. That portfolio discipline is exactly what defense acquisition needs. 1942 didn't wait for the fuze. 2027 can't wait for the beam.
First Breakfast tweet mediaFirst Breakfast tweet media
English
1
0
6
379
First Breakfast retweetledi
U.S. Central Command
Yesterday, using multiple one-way attack surface drones, CENTCOM forces successfully struck a submarine and ship maintenance facility in Iran. Three Corsair unmanned surface vessels hit the port at Bandar Abbas Naval Base, marking the first time American forces have employed sea drones in combat operations. Last night’s strikes degraded Iran’s ability to continue attacking commercial shipping.
English
1.6K
6.4K
38.7K
7.4M
First Breakfast
First Breakfast@FirstBreakfast·
On August 19, 1812, USS Constitution met HMS Guerrière off Nova Scotia. The Royal Navy hadn't lost a single-ship frigate duel to an equal in over a decade. Guerrière's captain was itching for a fight. He got one. Constitution closed to half a pistol shot and fired. Fifteen minutes later, Guerrière's mizzenmast was gone. British cannonballs struck Constitution's hull and bounced into the sea. "Huzzah, her sides are made of iron!" a sailor shouted. "Old Ironsides" was born. Constitution simply wasn't the ship Guerrière thought she was fighting. She carried more men and a broadside about 50% heavier than a standard frigate. An 18-year-old navy had beaten the greatest fleet on earth, ship for ship. The shock was so total that Britain soon forbade its frigates from engaging Americans without a 2-to-1 advantage. Why could only the American frigates carry that much firepower? The answer was buried deep in the hull. Six pairs of heavy timbers ran diagonally along Constitution's sides. They get no press. No painting of the battle depicts them. But without them, the ship couldn't fight. Shipwrights operated according to a hard limit: build a hull long enough to carry more guns and it would sag under its own weight, bending the keel until the ship destroyed itself. The designer of the Six Frigates, Joshua Humphreys, beat that constraint with "diagonal riders," thick planks bracing the frame at steep angles. These timbers let him fit a ship-of-the-line's firepower onto a frigate. Of the six original frigates, five got the diagonal riders. One did not. Humphreys' rival Josiah Fox took over USS Chesapeake, scaled her down, and left the riders out. Without them, she couldn't carry the heavy armament. She fought as an ordinary frigate—every duel a fair fight. In 1813, HMS Shannontook her in minutes—the only single-ship loss among the six. Chesapeake was written off as an unlucky ship. Her hull told the full story. History is full of “diagonal riders”: technologies that are both constraint-breaking and invisible to most, even the people who rely on them. Invisible in battle, invisible in history—but if removed, the difference in capability can’t be ignored. The lesson for builders: everyone competes on the visible end item, so everyone converges toward parity. The real edge is often below the waterline, away from the fray. Find it, break it, and you decide the fight before it starts.
First Breakfast tweet mediaFirst Breakfast tweet media
English
2
1
23
3.5K
First Breakfast retweetledi
Shyam Sankar
Shyam Sankar@ssankar·
Veterans: you were the Man in the Arena protecting your country. You endured the slings and arrows of the enemy. You served with honor. When you need a new mission, Palantir is ready. We work side-by-side with America’s Armed Forces to solve the toughest problems. While other Silicon Valley companies wring their hands, we never waver. We never will. The arena is still there. Same mission. New coordinates. Check out the PalVets website to learn more about Palantir’s opportunities for veterans, from full-time jobs to the American Tech Fellowship: palantir.com/veterans
Shyam Sankar tweet media
English
12
39
315
20.6K
First Breakfast
First Breakfast@FirstBreakfast·
America's Founders were restless, with a strong heretical streak. Always expanding, always hustling, always building. They caused massive headaches for the British government even in peace. They were nonconformists, in religion and habit. They settled where they weren’t supposed to. Traded with parties they weren’t supposed to. They were proud of their liberty and chafed at laws made by distant, unfeeling masters. Then they dumped East India Company tea into Boston Harbor, fired on the Redcoats at Lexington and Concord, and rebelled against a superpower. That, in a nutshell, is the spirit of America. If you look at the broad sweep of American history you can see that spirit at work as our nation has expanded: Manifest Destiny. The Transcontinental Railroad. The telegraph. The Panama Canal. The Wright Flyer. The Model T. The Arsenal of Democracy. The microchip. The Moon. The Internet. Reusable rockets. Artificial Intelligence. The Founders were builders. Build like them.
First Breakfast tweet media
English
1
4
38
2.5K
First Breakfast retweetledi
Shyam Sankar
Shyam Sankar@ssankar·
It is time for Operation Paperclip 2: repatriate the jewels of mittlestand to America. wsj.com/economy/china-…
English
44
53
470
222.2K
First Breakfast
First Breakfast@FirstBreakfast·
He was the richest man in the American colonies in 1775. He bankrolled the Continental Army—at times using personal credit to hold it together. He ended up in debtor's prison. This is the story of Robert Morris, a lesser-known Founding Father and the Funder of the Revolution. Born in Liverpool in 1734, Morris crossed the Atlantic at 13, learned the tobacco trade, and by 21 co-founded one of the most powerful trading houses in the colonies. An outsider who clawed his way to the top when bloodlines were everything. He was a latecomer to the Patriot cause, preferring reconciliation with Britain (it was better for business). But when Parliament overreached, Morris went all in: "better to die bravely than be starved by pickpockets." When the Revolution began, the Patriots had no navy, no bank, no currency, and no diplomats. So Morris became all of them. He ran the Secret Committee of Trade, smuggling gunpowder past the Royal Navy with fake cargo logs and spy networks. Washington was literally mixing sawdust into gunpowder. Morris fixed that. Then he built a Navy from scratch. The nation's first warship was his own merchant vessel, refitted with 24 guns. He also built out America's first diplomatic channels, opening the critical arms pipeline with France alongside Ben Franklin. But Morris's biggest weapon was his wallet. The Continental currency was worthless—"not worth a continental" was an insult. So Morris financed the war. He funded the blankets that helped Washington's men survive their first winter. Before Yorktown, he printed "Morris notes" backed by his personal credit. When soldiers threatened mutiny over unpaid wages, Morris signed 6,000 notes by hand and floated another $1 million. If Congress defaulted, he was on the hook. In 1781 Congress made him Superintendent of Finance — effectively CEO of the country. Only Washington outranked him. Morris pioneered modern defense contracting, too. The old system paid agents commissions on spending. Fraud was everywhere, food rotted for lack of transport. Morris scrapped the system for competitive sealed bids to the lowest bidder. Sound business principles, applied to revolution. Morris provided the sinews of war—but his aggressive style made enemies, even on his side. He kept running his private business while in office. His firm sometimes grabbed half the contracts flowing through his own committees. A 1779 investigation branded him a war profiteer. He was never convicted, but the whispers continued. Never mind that his network delivered the goods when few else could. Morris won the war, but lost the peace. After his return to civilian life, he made a big bet on land. Prices cratered, credit tightened, and $12 million in debt later Morris lost it all. He spent three and a half years in debtor's prison and died penniless in 1806. A reluctant patriot, Robert Morris put his own fortune and sacred honor on the line for the cause. Unrewarded in his time, we should honor his contributions to liberty today.
First Breakfast tweet media
English
4
1
6
1.4K
First Breakfast retweetledi
Madeline Hart
Madeline Hart@Madeline_Zimm·
Men used to finance war
Madeline Hart tweet media
English
1
3
12
607
First Breakfast retweetledi
First Breakfast retweetledi
Madeline Hart
Madeline Hart@Madeline_Zimm·
Anything @BlakeSeitz writes about the American Revolution is worth reading. Check out his tribute to Henry Knox, bookseller turned artillery commander
First Breakfast@FirstBreakfast

HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION The Patriots who gathered outside Boston to fight the British in 1775 had no standard flag, uniforms, equipment, or arms. They had little artillery. They had barely enough powder to fire their weapons, much less to dislodge the Redcoats. When George Washington first heard of the shortage of powder, he was so stunned he did not speak for half an hour. The British called the Patriots "the rabble in arms." A peasant revolt that wouldn't survive its first winter. It took leadership and incredible feats of logistics to arm the Patriot force and turn it into an army. In particular, it took a 26-year-old Boston bookseller turned artillery commander named Henry Knox. Call him the Cannon of the Revolution. Henry Knox was abandoned by his father at nine. He left school and went to work in a Boston bookshop where he devoured everything on politics and military science. He married theory with action, joining a local artillery company and learning how ordinary citizens could become competent soldiers. Then he entered the arena of politics, befriending the Sons of Liberty, witnessing the Boston Massacre, boycotting British goods, and stoking the flame of rebellion. When war came, Knox fled Boston in disguise, abandoning his bookstore and his chances for a normal life. Washington spotted his talent immediately and gave him command of the army's artillery. The catch? There was no artillery. Knox would have to bring the bang himself. His chance: 300 miles away at Fort Ticonderoga, dozens of captured cannons sat ready for use. Everyone said moving 60 tons of artillery through mountains and frozen rivers in winter was impossible. Knox did it anyway. It took struggle and sweat. Eight days hard rowing down a half-frozen lake. 42 sleds. 80 yoke of oxen. A cannon lost through the ice (recovered after a full day). A brutal blizzard. But the convoy creeped along. Three months later, Knox’s "noble train of artillery" arrived in Boston. Washington used those guns to seize and arm the heights surrounding Boston in an overnight coup. The British woke to a fortress aimed at their fleet and evacuated the city. The Siege of Boston ended in a near-bloodless victory that saved a crumbling army. Knox’s “noble train” had turned into a strategic advantage for the Patriots. But Knox's real genius was building. He understood a hard truth: if America couldn't make its own weapons, the Glorious Cause was at the mercy of others. "Let us for a moment suppose a misfortune happen to the field Artillery we have," he warned John Adams. "Where shall we get immediately supplied—not in America." So he designed America's defense industrial base from scratch. He chose the site and oversaw the construction of the Springfield Armory, which armed Americans into the Vietnam era and seeded the nation's first manufacturing cluster in the Connecticut River Valley. He also knew you can't win without leaders. In 1778, while the army wintered at Pluckemin, New Jersey, he founded America's first military academy. He wrote the curriculum and taught it himself. That academy was the direct predecessor of West Point (another Knox idea). Knox served with distinction at Washington’s side throughout the Revolutionary War. He orchestrated the Continental Army’s mythic crossing of the Delaware River in 1776. Years later, his guns hammered Cornwallis into surrender at Yorktown. When the war ended, Knox wanted nothing more than to return to civilian life—but like Washington he was called back to public service. Briefly floated as Washington’s running mate, Knox ultimately accepted the more familiar job as America’s first Secretary of War. His Knox’s vision for a free republic's army came down to one thing: people. Arm and train the citizenry. Build institutions that create great leaders. Make the profession of arms honorable to attract the good and the talented. Knox is largely forgotten today. He shouldn’t be—especially this year. 250 years later, our military, our defense industry, and our freedom are all downstream of one Boston bookseller: the Cannon of the Revolution. America's first defense technologist.

English
1
2
13
1.1K
First Breakfast
First Breakfast@FirstBreakfast·
HEROES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION The Patriots who gathered outside Boston to fight the British in 1775 had no standard flag, uniforms, equipment, or arms. They had little artillery. They had barely enough powder to fire their weapons, much less to dislodge the Redcoats. When George Washington first heard of the shortage of powder, he was so stunned he did not speak for half an hour. The British called the Patriots "the rabble in arms." A peasant revolt that wouldn't survive its first winter. It took leadership and incredible feats of logistics to arm the Patriot force and turn it into an army. In particular, it took a 26-year-old Boston bookseller turned artillery commander named Henry Knox. Call him the Cannon of the Revolution. Henry Knox was abandoned by his father at nine. He left school and went to work in a Boston bookshop where he devoured everything on politics and military science. He married theory with action, joining a local artillery company and learning how ordinary citizens could become competent soldiers. Then he entered the arena of politics, befriending the Sons of Liberty, witnessing the Boston Massacre, boycotting British goods, and stoking the flame of rebellion. When war came, Knox fled Boston in disguise, abandoning his bookstore and his chances for a normal life. Washington spotted his talent immediately and gave him command of the army's artillery. The catch? There was no artillery. Knox would have to bring the bang himself. His chance: 300 miles away at Fort Ticonderoga, dozens of captured cannons sat ready for use. Everyone said moving 60 tons of artillery through mountains and frozen rivers in winter was impossible. Knox did it anyway. It took struggle and sweat. Eight days hard rowing down a half-frozen lake. 42 sleds. 80 yoke of oxen. A cannon lost through the ice (recovered after a full day). A brutal blizzard. But the convoy creeped along. Three months later, Knox’s "noble train of artillery" arrived in Boston. Washington used those guns to seize and arm the heights surrounding Boston in an overnight coup. The British woke to a fortress aimed at their fleet and evacuated the city. The Siege of Boston ended in a near-bloodless victory that saved a crumbling army. Knox’s “noble train” had turned into a strategic advantage for the Patriots. But Knox's real genius was building. He understood a hard truth: if America couldn't make its own weapons, the Glorious Cause was at the mercy of others. "Let us for a moment suppose a misfortune happen to the field Artillery we have," he warned John Adams. "Where shall we get immediately supplied—not in America." So he designed America's defense industrial base from scratch. He chose the site and oversaw the construction of the Springfield Armory, which armed Americans into the Vietnam era and seeded the nation's first manufacturing cluster in the Connecticut River Valley. He also knew you can't win without leaders. In 1778, while the army wintered at Pluckemin, New Jersey, he founded America's first military academy. He wrote the curriculum and taught it himself. That academy was the direct predecessor of West Point (another Knox idea). Knox served with distinction at Washington’s side throughout the Revolutionary War. He orchestrated the Continental Army’s mythic crossing of the Delaware River in 1776. Years later, his guns hammered Cornwallis into surrender at Yorktown. When the war ended, Knox wanted nothing more than to return to civilian life—but like Washington he was called back to public service. Briefly floated as Washington’s running mate, Knox ultimately accepted the more familiar job as America’s first Secretary of War. His Knox’s vision for a free republic's army came down to one thing: people. Arm and train the citizenry. Build institutions that create great leaders. Make the profession of arms honorable to attract the good and the talented. Knox is largely forgotten today. He shouldn’t be—especially this year. 250 years later, our military, our defense industry, and our freedom are all downstream of one Boston bookseller: the Cannon of the Revolution. America's first defense technologist.
First Breakfast tweet media
English
1
4
11
1.6K
First Breakfast retweetledi
Blake Seitz
Blake Seitz@BlakeSeitz·
For America 250, @firstbreakfast is elevating lesser known heroes of the American Revolution; the engineers, logisticians, money men, and gun runners of the Glorious Cause. This week I profile Henry Knox, a Boston bookseller who assumed command of the Continental Army's artillery at age 26. America's professional military education system, arsenal system, and Navy (he commissioned the Six Frigates) are downstream of Knox. I hope you'll read about his remarkable life. x.com/FirstBreakfast…
English
1
1
5
306