全新正版图书 基于MDA的联邦式装备保障建模仿真技术/装备 刘洁杜晓明孙海涛 国防工业出版社 9787118121551蔚蓝书店 下载 pdf 百度网盘 epub 免费 2025 电子书 mobi 在线

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第1章 联邦式建模仿真概述

1.1 分布式作战仿真

1.1.1 分布式作战仿真的概念

1.1.2 分布式作战仿真的作用

1.1.3 分布式作战仿真面临的挑战

1.2 联邦与联邦式作战仿真

1.2.1 联邦

1.2.2 联邦式作战仿真

1.3 联邦式仿真系统体系结构

1.3.1 联邦式仿真逻辑结构

1.3.2 联邦与联邦成员规则

1.4 联邦式仿真系统开发过程模型

第2章 联邦式建模仿真框架

2.1 概念模型设计

2.1.1 概念模型基本概念

2.1.2 概念模型分析方法

2.1.3 概念模型标识

2.1.4 概念模型模板

2.2 对象模型设计

2.2.1 对象模型的概念

2.2.2 对象模型描述规则

2.2.3 对象模型模板

2.3 执行模型设计

2.3.1 FWS体系结构

2.3.2 执行模型逻辑结构

2.3.3 执行模型布局方案

2.3.4 执行模型时控机制

第3章 基于MDA的联邦式建模仿真

3.1 MDA简介

3.1.1 相关概念

3.1.2 MDA研究现状

3.2 基于MDA的作战仿真建模思想

3.2.1 MDA技术分析

3.2.2 基于MDA的联邦式装备保障建模仿真技术框架

第4章 主题台无关模型的建立

4.1 仿真应用域模型表达的六元抽象方法

4.1.1 六元抽象方法的基本原理

4.1.2 仿真系统与应用台无关模型的映射关系

4.1.3 装备保障系统要素分析

4.2 仿真应用域的PIM表达语言

4.2.1 xUML语言的优势

4.2.2 战术级装备保障仿真系统的PIM建模分析

4.3 联邦成员子域类结构设计及模型表达

4.3.1 台无关模型的抽象层次问题

4.3.2 联邦成员子域的设计

第5章 主题域模型的转换过程及方法

5.1 主题域模型转换过程

5.1.1 模型转换的定义

5.1.2 模型转换的一般过程

5.1.3 模型转换的特点及存在的问题

5.2 主题域模型转换方法

5.2.1 PIM到PSM模型转换的一般方法

5.2.2 变换定义的设置

5.2.3 源模型语言xUML的元模型结构

5.2.4 面向对象语台的模型转换

5.2.5 关系数据台的转换

5.2.6 模型向FED文件的转换

5.2.7 联邦成员子域类模型的转换

第6章 主题域模型的集成过程及方法

6.1 RTI在基于MDA的联邦式装备保障建模仿真技术框架中的地位

6.2 模型集成方法分析

6.2.1 模型集成的基本方式

6.2.2 模型集成的基本方法

6.2.3 桥的定义

6.3 HIA联邦成员关系分析

6.4 主题域模型的集成

6.4.1 仿真业务域内部子域模型的集成

6.4.2 仿真业务域模型与RTI模型的集成

第7章 基于MDA的联邦式装备保障仿真系统开发

7.1 联邦式装备保障仿真系台无关模型的建立

7.1.1 装备保障仿真实体的确定原则

7.1.2 想定描述

7.1.3 模台无关模型的建立

7.2 模型的转换

7.2.1 面向对象语台转换

7.2.2 关系数据库的模型转换

7.2.3 FED文件片段的转换

7.3 模型集成

7.3.1 联邦成员的集成

7.3.2 FED文件集成

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No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend’s or of thine own were: any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore, never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee

谁都不是一座岛屿，自成一体/ 每个人都是一个碎片，那广袤大陆的一部分/ 如果海浪冲掉一块土地，家园就小了一点/ 如果一座海岬，如果你朋友或你自己的庄园被冲掉/ 也是如此/ 任何人的死亡都使我受到损失/ 因为我包孕在人类之中/ 所以不必打听丧钟为谁鸣/ 丧钟为你鸣

Robert Jordan pushed the cup toward him. It was a milky yellow now with the water and he hoped the gypsy would not take more than a swallow. There was very little of it left and one cup of it took the place of the evening papers, of all the old evenings in cafe, of all chestnut trees that would be in bloom now in this month, of the great slow horses of the outer boulevards, of book shops, of kiosques, and of galleries, of the Parc Montsouris, of the Stade Buffalo, and of the Butte Chaumont, of the Guaranty Trust Company and the Ile de la Cite, of Foyot's old hotel, and of being able to read and relax in the evening; of all the things he had enjoyed and forgotten and that came back to him when he tasted that opaque, bitter, tongue-numbing, brain-warming, stomach-warming, idea-changing liqu...

How many times had he heard this? How many times had he watched people say it with difficulty? How many times had he seen their eyes fill and their throats harden with the difficulty of saying my father, or my brother, or my mother, or my sister? He could not remember how many times he had heard them mention their dead in this way. Nearly always they spoke as this boy did now; suddenly and apropos of the mention of the town and always you said, "What barbarians."

You only heard the statement of the loss. You did not see the father fall as Pilar made him see the fascists die in that story she had told by the stream. You knew the father died in some courtyard, or against some wall, or in some field or orchard, or at night, in the lights of a truck, beside some road. You had seen the lights...

1They were walking through the heather of the mountain meadow and Robert Jordan felt the brushing of the heather against his legs, felt the weight of his pistol in its holster against his thigh, felt the sun on his head, felt the breeze from the snow of the mountain peaks cool on his back and, in his hand, he felt the girl's hand firm and strong, the fingers locked in his. From it, from the palm of her hand against the palm of his, from their fingers locked together, and from her wrist across his wrist something came from her hand, her fingers and her wrist to his that was as fresh as the first light air that moving toward you over the sea barely wrinkles the glassy surface of a calm, as light as a feather moved across one's lip, or a leaf falling when there is no breeze; so light that it ...

Now that his rage was gone he was excited by this storm as he was always by all storms. In a blizzard, a gale, a sudden line squall, a tropical storm, or a summer thunder shower in the mountains there was an excitement that came to him from no other thing. It was like the excitement of battle except that it was clean. There is a wind that blows through battle but that was a hot wind; hot and dry as your mouth; and it blew heavily; hot and dirtily; and it rose and died away with the fortunes of the day. He knew that wind well.

But a snowstorm was the opposite of all of that. In the snowstorm you came close to wild animals and they were not afraid. They travelled across country not knowing where they were and the deer stood sometimes in the lee of the cabin. In a snowstorm you rode up to a...

The night was clear and his head felt as clear and cold as the air. He smelled the odor of the pine boughs under him, the piney smell of the crushed needles and the sharper odor of the resinous sap from the cut limbs. Pilar, he thought. Pilar and the smell of death. This is the smell I love. This and fresh-cut clover, the crushed sage as you ride after cattle, wood-smoke and the burning leaves of autumn. That must be the odor of nostalgia, the smell of the smoke from the piles of raked leaves burning in the streets in the fall in Missoula. Which would you rather smell? Sweet grass the Indians used in their baskets? Smoked leather? The odor of the ground in the spring after rain? The smell of the sea as you walk through the gorse on a headland in Galicia? Or the wind from the land as you c...

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