Tomahawk for Ukraine: Never-ending Saga of the Wunderwaffe to Turn the Tide [i]
Strategic Reality vs. Wet Dreams: Capabilities and Constraints of Ukraine’s Missile Hopes
“Media Warriors and Charlatan Logic”
In recent months, Ukrainian officials and sympathetic commentators have floated the possibility of Kiev acquiring U.S.-made BGM-109 Tomahawk cruise missiles. The suggestion, circulated in political speeches, media soundbites, and social media campaigns, is meant to signal resolve and project the image of Ukraine entering the exclusive club of long-range precision-strike powers. Yet, for anyone with more than a cursory understanding of modern weapons integration, the idea is little more than a fantasy. Far from a credible option, it is a case study in how political actors and warmongering pundits co-opt the language of advanced weaponry for marketing purposes rather than serious military planning.
What is striking is how quickly this reality is brushed aside in public discourse. For warmongering commentators and lobbyists, invoking the “Tomahawk” has marketing value. It conjures images of shock-and-awe campaigns and technological supremacy, while diverting attention from the more mundane but realistic systems that Ukraine actually operates. In this sense, the Tomahawk serves not as a practical option but as a symbol—a shorthand for escalation, resolve, and the promise of game-changing capability. The fact that it is logistically and operationally impossible for Ukraine to use it does not matter; what matters is the narrative power of the name.
At its core, then, the “Tomahawk for Ukraine” story is not about military reality. It is about theater. It appeals to audiences with a shallow grasp of defense technology and reassures them with the idea that another “silver bullet” system is on the way. For those who understand how the Tomahawk actually works—its dependence on U.S. launch platforms, secure networks, cryptographic keys, and classified mission planning tools—the notion is laughable. It belongs more to the realm of marketing slogans and political posturing than to serious operational planning.
Some Hypothetical Scenarios
Ground Launched Cruise Missile Platform
Enthusiasm in some circles for ground‑launching options is not entirely misplaced. Decades ago, the United States developed and actually produced ground‑based launchers for Tomahawk‑class effects; the technical groundwork and institutional precedent therefore exist, even if the practical, political, and logistical barriers to resurrecting that capability remain high.
The Ground-Launched Cruise Missile (GLCM) program originated from a Cold War imperative to address a perceived NATO vulnerability in Europe. In the late 1970s, the Soviet Union deployed the SS-20 intermediate-range ballistic missile, a mobile, accurate system that could strike Western Europe with little warning. NATO’s 1979 “dual-track” decision responded by pressing for arms control while preparing to deploy new U.S. missile systems to restore deterrent balance. One of those choices was a land-based version of the Tomahawk cruise missile: a road-mobile, survivable precision weapon intended to complicate Soviet targeting and reassure European allies.
Technically, the GLCM adapted the naval Tomahawk’s low-altitude, terrain-following cruise profile for ground launch. Missiles were housed in sealed canisters and carried on transporter-erector-launcher (TEL) vehicles, typically with multiple missiles per vehicle to improve mobility and dispersal. Guidance relied on TERCOM, permitting long, low-level penetration routes to reduce radar exposure. The system was designed to be survivable in a high-threat European battlefield by dispersing, hiding, and using deceptive basing to complicate an adversary’s targeting. In concert with Pershing II ballistic missiles, GLCMs were intended to restore credible NATO options for a limited nuclear response in theater without immediately escalating to a strategic exchange.
Deployments began in the early 1980s across NATO Europe. The United States stationed GLCMs and supporting units in several allied countries as part of its planned counterbalance to the SS-20. The presence of the missiles sparked large anti-nuclear protests and intense political debate across Europe. Yet, allied governments argued the deployments were necessary to maintain deterrence and to strengthen NATO bargaining leverage in arms control talks.
The program’s strategic and political utility became evident even as controversy swirled around it. The missiles increased the bargaining power of negotiators in talks with Moscow because both sides recognized the operational implications of having mobile, survivable intermediate-range systems in the theatre. That leverage helped create the conditions for negotiation that culminated in the 1987 Intermediate-Range Nuclear Forces (INF) Treaty between the United States and the Soviet Union. The INF Treaty was historic: for the first time, the superpowers agreed to eliminate an entire class of missiles—those with ranges between roughly 500 km and 5,500 km—and to permit intrusive on-site verification.
Because the GLCM fell squarely within the treaty’s scope, its future was effectively decided at the negotiating table. Under the INF terms, all U.S. ground-launched cruise missiles of the prohibited range were to be removed and destroyed, and corresponding Soviet systems were to be eliminated as well. The United States complied: the deployed GLCM force was withdrawn and the missiles and associated infrastructure dismantled. By the early 1990s, the GLCM had vanished from European bases, a casualty not of technical failure but of a diplomatic bargain that traded deployed capability for legally binding reductions in risk and tension.
In retrospect, the GLCM’s lifecycle illustrates how weapons can be instruments of policy as much as tools of war. It was developed to fill an urgent deterrence gap, deployed in politically charged circumstances, and then sacrificed as part of a broader deal that arguably produced a more stable European security environment. The program’s cancellation underscored the reality that the ultimate fate of even sophisticated military systems often depends on geopolitics and diplomacy as much as on engineering or battlefield utility.
By the early 1990s, all GLCM missiles and their launchers had been dismantled, with thorough inspections to ensure that nothing was hidden or left behind.
Some parts of the program survive today, but only as museum pieces. A few demilitarized missiles and launch vehicles are on display at places such as the National Museum of the U.S. Air Force and the Pima Air & Space Museum. These are completely inert and cannot be fired—they exist only to show history and educate the public.
Because the treaty required strict verification and destruction, it is extremely unlikely that any operational GLCM missiles or launchers still exist. Stories or speculation about “hidden” launchers are therefore just myths; there is no stockpile that could be brought back into service.
The missiles and launchers were removed and destroyed decades ago, and any remaining artifacts are now just for display. All of the program’s official documentation, technical drawings, manuals, and related records were carefully handled according to U.S. military and national security procedures. Sensitive technical information—anything that could be used to rebuild the missiles or their launchers—was classified and retained under strict control within the Department of Defense and the National Archives.
Some non-sensitive or historical materials have been declassified over time and are now available for research by historians or museum collections. This includes photographs, program overviews, and general descriptions of how the missiles and launchers worked. However, the detailed technical schematics, software, guidance algorithms, and launch procedures remain classified to prevent misuse or proliferation.
The GLCM project’s records were mostly destroyed, secured, or classified after the program ended. Only carefully controlled historical or educational materials are publicly accessible today.
Even if Ukraine wanted to revive the old GLCM program with the help of the warmongering faction of the US government, it wouldn’t be possible. The detailed technical documents, schematics, software, and procedures are still classified or destroyed, so there’s no “instruction manual” available. Any attempt to rebuild the program from scratch would require billions of dollars, decades of work, and extensive testing—essentially starting over as a new weapons development program. Neither Ukraine nor its allies could simply pick up where the Cold War program left off.
Naval launchers on a ground-based platform - new concept
Technically, a vertical launch cell (the standard Mk-41 VLS used on U.S. warships) is a modular canister that can hold a variety of missiles; conceptually, a similar cell can be mounted in a ground transporter if the launcher, power, and thermal interfaces are addressed. That idea is not just academic: the U.S. Army has developed and tested the Typhon (Mid-Range Capability / SMRF) launcher concept that integrates Mk-style cells into ground vehicles and has demonstrably launched both SM-6 and Tomahawk airframes in trials. The Army has also deployed Typhon batteries overseas for exercises. These experiments show that the basic engineering path exists for adapting naval missile airframes to ground launchers1.
The Mk41 UVP can fire various types of missiles: cruise, anti-aircraft, and anti-submarine. It can include up to eight modules, each with eight launch containers: Mk14 mod. O and 1 for the Tomahawk cruise missile or Mk13 and Mk15 for surface-to-air missiles and anti-submarine missiles; a missile launch system; and other equipment.
The Mk14 containers (0.635 x 0.635 m and 6.7 m long.) are made of corrugated steel. They feature upper and lower membrane covers, a spray valve system at the top for supplying coolant to the warhead when necessary for cooling, electrical connectors for the power supply, electrical cables, a stabilization mechanism, and devices for stabilizing and securing the missile. The upper membrane cover, made of rubber-impregnated fiberglass, provides protection for the cruise missile from the shock wave generated during the launch of an adjacent missile. The lower membrane cover is designed as four petals that open due to the pressure generated within the container when the missile’s engine is activated. An ablative coating on the container’s interior enables up to eight launches without requiring container replacement. The container can withstand internal pressures of up to 274.5 kPa.
The missile launch system includes launch sequence control equipment, a mechanism for opening and closing the UVP armored covers, and a power supply unit.
At the bottom of the UVP is a chamber for escaping gases, which are discharged through a venting duct above the ship’s deck. The chamber and venting duct are covered with an ablative coating made of phenolic fiber tiles reinforced with chloroprene rubber. Armored covers at the top of the UVP provide protection from impact water. On surface ships, Mk41 UVPs are mounted below the upper deck. The total number of modules in them is 8, 12, or 16, but the total number of missiles (ammunition) is 61, 90, or 122, respectively (not 64, 96, or 128), as the volume of three or six container cells is used to accommodate the loading device, which ensures the reloading of missiles at sea.
At the same time, recent service experiments illustrate practical limits. The U.S. Marine Corps tested a light-unit concept (a JLTV-mounted launcher) and later cancelled it after trials showed the maritime Tomahawk architecture does not map well to small, expeditionary platforms. That cancellation highlights the challenges of simply transferring naval launchers to land vehicles without significant trade-offs in logistics, weight, thermal management, and mobility.
The concept behind the USMC Long-Range Fires (LRF) program, based on the JLTV, remains technically and strategically interesting. Recently, there have been scattered reports and informal speculation suggesting that elements of the LRF concept might be revived in some form to support Ukraine’s long-range strike capability. However, available information is extremely limited, and no verifiable evidence currently supports the notion that the United States or its allies have reactivated or adapted the program for export or combat use. For now, such claims remain speculative rather than factual.
At the systems level the problem can be separated into three linked domains: the mechanical and physical challenge of mounting a naval vertical-launch cell on a land vehicle or at a fixed site while ensuring safe handling and environmental control; the electrical, thermal and electronic interface issues such as power, cooling, timing and data/control links; and the systems-of-systems concerns of mission planning, command-and-control (C2), cryptography and long-term sustainment. Each domain brings distinct engineering requirements, test regimes, and logistical burdens. Converting a naval launch cell into a reliable, safe ground asset is therefore a full systems-engineering, certification, and sustainment effort — not a “plug-and-play” retrofit.
Shipboard vertical launch cells and their canisters are designed around a ship’s structural characteristics and its particular shock, vibration, and mounting environment. Ground platforms and fixed sites impose very different load spectra, transport dynamics, and survivability expectations; a ground launcher must therefore meet its own structural standards for mobility, transport, and battlefield survivability. Relevant technical considerations include dynamic load paths during transport (road, rail, or off-road), structural containment for blast and shock, secure mechanical locking and canister handling, and protective measures for both the crew and bystanders. Any viable design must also account for ordnance handling under worst-case environmental scenarios, accessibility for maintenance, and safety in vehicle crash or rollover events when the launch system is vehicle-mounted.
Naval launchers benefit from ship services: high continuous electrical generation, large shipboard cooling capacity, and integrated environmental control. Ground platforms typically have significantly more constrained power and cooling budgets, as well as different transient characteristics. Key engineering concerns, therefore, include both steady-state and transient power availability, thermal management for avionics and missile canisters (including storage conditioning and pre-launch thermal preparation), humidity and corrosion control, and protection against contamination from dust and debris. Power quality — voltage stability, harmonics, and the ability to support high inrush currents for pre-launch sequences — materially affects generator sizing, power-distribution architecture, and auxiliary systems selection.
A launcher is also an electronic node in a larger fire-control and C2 architecture. Naval launchers integrate with platform combat systems through standardized buses, safety interlocks, and weapon-control protocols; adapting those interfaces to a ground fire-control architecture requires precisely defined interface control documents, latency and resilience analyses for data links, electromagnetic compatibility verification, and deterministic timing for safety interlocks. Software-in-the-loop testing, firmware validation, and regression testing are necessary to ensure correct behavior across edge cases. Cybersecurity and supply-chain assurance are critical: cryptographic modules, authenticated firmware, and tamper detection must meet national standards and be provisioned under secure key-management practices.
Safe ground operation demands comprehensive human-factors engineering, procedural development, interlocks, and formal certification. This covers crew ergonomics, emergency abort and jettison procedures, safe transfer and handling practices, and maintenance ergonomics. Certification must conform to applicable military and civil safety standards and include defined qualification tests (environmental, EMI/EMC, shock/vibration, live-fire safety margins). Regulatory and legal compliance — including range clearance, airspace coordination, and ordnance transport rules — must be integrated from program inception to ensure operational concepts remain lawful and safe.
Sourcing spare parts, propulsion modules, guidance components, test equipment, and qualified technicians is a long-lead issue. Many components become obsolete after retirement; therefore, reuse requires an authorized refurbishment program or an assured supply chain. Depot and test infrastructure — instrumentation, environmental chambers, and diagnostic testers — are specialized and often controlled. Establishing local sustainment demands training pipelines, technical data rights, and long-term procurement contracts, all of which are significant drivers of cost and schedule.
A credible mission capability extends well beyond the launcher itself to mission-planning systems, secure key management, targeting data, and ISR integration. Mission planning and targeting require validated geodata and target-quality imagery, along with documented pre-flight validation and abort procedures. Network resilience, anti-jamming, and anti-spoofing strategies, as well as continuous data-link availability, must be designed and validated. Governance choices — who authorizes a mission, how keys are provisioned, and how retasking is managed — are policy decisions that directly shape technical architectures, for example, whether to design for remote enablement under donor control or for local autonomy.
A rigorous testing and certification regime is essential: hardware acceptance testing, integrated system tests, software qualification, safety-of-flight analyses, and live-fire trials on controlled ranges. Test instrumentation, telemetry architectures, and post-flight forensics capabilities are required to validate performance and safety. Independent verification by accredited test authorities is typically a prerequisite for safety certification and liability mitigation.
Programmatically, turning naval hardware into a fielded ground launcher is a program of record. It requires formal requirements definition, a systems-engineering lifecycle, acquisition funding, contractor engagement, and multi-year timelines for development, qualification, and fielding. Key risks include supply-chain availability, access to classified components, export controls, and political approvals. Economies of scale matter: small production runs are disproportionately expensive per unit, and classified or controlled components complicate industrial planning.
From a technical-risk perspective, alternative approaches often offer a better cost-to-capability tradeoff. Host-and-launch models, where allied naval platforms provide firing capability, avoid many retrofit risks. Co-designed, exportable ground cruise missiles, built from the ground up for land use, eliminate many integration headaches. Modular, open-architecture launcher families that accept multiple certified missile modules simplify certification and export governance. These options reduce retrofit complexity, speed fielding, and make sustainment more tractable.
In abstract terms, converting decommissioned naval launchers into functioning ground systems is technically possible; however, doing so safely, reliably, and lawfully would require a major, multidisciplinary systems engineering program. Adapting Soviet-era airframes to accept Western missiles is one technical challenge; repurposing shipboard launch cells for land use is an entirely different order of difficulty. The latter would require near-complete U.S. involvement — politically, technically, and logistically — and given the strategic implications, could have consequences that ripple far beyond the region.
The Reality
Ukraine cannot realistically operate the BGM-109 Tomahawk cruise missile under any practical military conditions. Even in a hypothetical scenario where the United States provided the missiles (as mentioned previously with the Typhon system), their employment would remain wholly dependent on U.S. military infrastructure, personnel, and systems. This dependency is not merely a matter of policy or diplomatic caution; it is built into the fundamental architecture of the Tomahawk system, its integration requirements, and the operational doctrine that governs its operation. The Tomahawk is not a plug-and-play munition that can be launched from an improvised platform with manually entered coordinates. It is a deeply embedded component of U.S. naval strike warfare, requiring a sophisticated ecosystem of platforms, command systems, data links, cryptographic authentication, and mission planning tools that exist only within the U.S. Navy—and, to a limited degree, the Royal Navy.
The Tomahawk Land Attack Missile (TLAM) is designed for launch exclusively from vertical launch systems (VLS), most notably the Mk 41 VLS on U.S. Navy destroyers and cruisers, or from submarine torpedo tubes and dedicated VLS cells on U.S. and British submarines. These systems are not simple launch containers. They are fully integrated into the ship’s combat architecture, providing power, cooling, data connectivity, and fire control. Initial targeting data, navigation alignment, and launch authorization are all delivered through the ship’s Aegis Combat System or an equivalent submarine fire control suite. Ukraine does not possess any naval vessels equipped with Mk 41 VLS or comparable architecture. Its fleet is limited to small patrol craft, artillery boats such as the Gyurza-M, and a handful of aging Soviet-era vessels, none of which possess the space, power generation, or software integration required for Tomahawk employment. Retrofitting such vessels is not a matter of welding a launch box onto a deck; it would require a complete redesign of combat systems, power distribution, and electronic infrastructure, an engineering task that demands years and immense resources, even for advanced navies.
Even if Ukraine were to acquire a Tomahawk-capable vessel, it would still lack the Tomahawk Weapon Control System (TWCS), the classified suite that governs mission planning, missile initialization, in-flight updates, and monitoring. Mission planning itself involves uploading high-resolution terrain elevation data, satellite imagery, and target coordinates into the missile’s computer. This requires secure U.S. defense networks, such as SIPRNet, and specialized software, like the Tomahawk Integrated Mission Planning System (TIMPS) or its successor, the Joint Mission Planning System (JMPS). These are operated only by trained U.S. personnel with security clearances. Ukrainian forces have no access to these networks, tools, or data. The missile’s terrain-matching and optical scene-correlation systems (TERCOM and DSMAC) rely on continuously updated, classified geospatial databases generated by U.S. intelligence. Without this data, accuracy would degrade severely in contested electronic warfare environments.
Modern variants of the Tomahawk, such as the Block IV Tactical Tomahawk (RGM/UGM-109E), introduce an additional dependency: a two-way satellite data link that enables retargeting, loitering, and battle damage assessment. This link rides on secure U.S. military satellite networks, using cryptographic protocols and NSA-certified Type 1 encryption. Without U.S. cryptographic keys, terminals, and authorization systems, the link is inert. Even with downlinked imagery, Ukraine would have no means to transmit commands or target updates.
The weapon is further safeguarded by multiple electronic and procedural locks, including Permissive Action Links and cryptographic enable codes that must be loaded before launch. These codes originate in U.S. Strategic Command’s command-and-control infrastructure and are distributed only within U.S. key management channels. Without them, a Tomahawk remains inert. The United States retains the ability to withhold or revoke keys, rendering any transferred missile unusable—a standard safeguard for advanced U.S. precision weapons.
Logistical and sustainment requirements are equally prohibitive. Tomahawks must be stored in climate-controlled containers, inspected by certified technicians, and regularly updated with new software and hardware patches. These procedures rely on specialized diagnostic tools and ITAR-restricted equipment unavailable outside U.S. Navy channels. Ukraine lacks the trained personnel, depot-level facilities, or ordnance handling infrastructure to support such a system.
Training represents another insurmountable barrier. U.S. personnel undergo months of specialized instruction in TWCS operation, including simulator work and live-fire certification. The process is inextricably linked to U.S. Navy doctrine, command culture, and classified materials. There is no mechanism for quickly qualifying foreign operators in wartime. Language barriers, doctrinal differences, and the classified nature of training material make any rapid transfer impossible.
Navigation and route-planning further illustrate Ukraine’s limitations. While GPS supports mid-course guidance, Tomahawk relies heavily on TERCOM and DSMAC to ensure accuracy in GPS-denied environments. These modes require extremely detailed terrain and imagery data, which must be updated and validated by U.S. national technical means. Without access to this classified data, route planning becomes simplistic and vulnerable to manipulation. Attempting to fly straight-line profiles would expose missiles to Russian integrated air defenses, such as the S-300, Buk-M2, and S-400, leading to high attrition. Effective route design requires integration with real-time U.S. ISR assets—airborne, space-based, and signals intelligence—that Ukraine does not control.
Launch procedures themselves are deeply institutionalized. A Tomahawk strike on a U.S. destroyer requires coordination among multiple officers, secure authorization codes, and higher command approval. The missile is never launched in isolation, but as part of a larger strike package that includes supporting electronic warfare, ISR, and post-strike assessment. Ukraine’s General Staff, oriented toward land warfare, lacks the doctrine, structure, or ISR support to replicate this.
The submarine variant illustrates the point even more starkly. Submarine launches demand modern boats, highly trained crews, and precise navigation and communications. Ukraine has no submarine fleet; its only vessel, “Zaporizhzhia”, was lost in 2014. Building or training a Tomahawk-capable submarine force would take decades.
By contrast, systems Ukraine has successfully integrated—such as Storm Shadow/SCALP-EG and ATACMS—are designed for air or ground launch from platforms Ukraine already operates. They employ mission planning systems that are adaptable to Ukrainian infrastructure and can be used with minimal training and support. Tomahawk, by design, is not adaptable.
From propulsion to cryptographic enablement, Tomahawk is sustained entirely within U.S. logistical and doctrinal frameworks. Its engine maintenance, warhead integration, software updates, and electronic counter-countermeasures all rely on U.S. defense infrastructure, classified threat libraries, and ISR support. Even post-strike battle damage assessment depends on U.S. overhead assets. Without these, Tomahawk cannot function as intended.
In short, the Tomahawk is not a weapon that can be easily transferred, like the HIMARS or Storm Shadow. It is a system-of-systems that exists only within the U.S. Navy’s strike ecosystem. Ukraine lacks the platforms, networks, mission planning tools, data access, cryptographic systems, training, and logistics to operate independently. Even if provided the missiles, their operation would remain entirely U.S.-controlled, with Ukraine serving at most as a geographic proxy. This is not a matter of willpower but of design: the Tomahawk is inseparable from the institutional and technical infrastructure of U.S. naval combat power.
Conclusion
In this Substack, I previously discussed several cruise-missile options — Storm Shadow/SCALP, Taurus, and the newer JASSM — and there is both technical and material availability to some degree to use the latter two alongside Storm Shadow. Tomahawk is simply out of the question. As the conflict drags on, Ukraine is suffering from steady attrition despite enormous support from NATO allies; if current trends continue, attrition will eventually exhaust Ukrainian resistance. They need to finally accept that Western policy has been mishandled; for some, an earlier negotiated end would be preferable to eventual collapse. No number of cruise missiles, or anything else the collective West can dump there, however loudly demanded by warmongers in the West, will turn the tide.
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[i] Edited by Piquet (editpiquet@gmail.com)
The U.S. Army’s Typhon Mid-Range Capability (MRC) System | Congress.gov | Library of Congress

















"At its core, then, the “Tomahawk for Ukraine” story is not about military reality. It is about theater. It appeals to audiences with a shallow grasp of defense technology and reassures them with the idea that another “silver bullet” system is on the way."
Posturing by whom and for whom? There is so much war-fog lately. What is going on with secret negotiations and deals?
Will I live to find out, or even live and never find out?
Pretend China, Russia or anyone were supplying missiles for the express purpose of striking the United States.
Would we be hearing the same excuses? No, because the American response would be unmistakable and brutal.
Which is why nobody would try such a thing.