Ssn (1996) Read online

  With Cheyenne running at twenty-five knots four hundred feet beneath the surface of the South China Sea, Mack had time to wonder about his decision to attack the Chinese frigate and submarine. Had he been too aggressive? The captain suddenly felt both guilt and vulnerability for attacking the task group. There had been other, more stealthy alternatives, and perhaps he should have taken them.

  This was one of the dangers of post-action letdown. Too many people used that time to play the “what if?” game and to second-guess their own decisions. What if Cheyenne had been damaged? he thought to himself. After all, his main objective was to reach Independence safely, not attack enemy warships. Independence could easily have handled that task group herself.

  In addition to the risk of the encounter, Mack knew that he had cost Cheyenne the element of surprise. She was known, now, and being hunted. Perhaps it would have been a better idea to silently drift alongside the Chinese task group, obtain the required intelligence, and then head for the carrier.

  These questions troubled him as he prepared to proceed to periscope depth to get information concerning Independence.

  “Conn, sonar,” the sonar supervisor reported, “the towed-array picked up a helicopter overhead. We can tell it’s a helo because of the high turbine rpm.”

  Hearing this, Mack ordered an immediate excursion to 325 feet. He soon heard the ping of the helicopter’s active dipping sonar through Cheyenne’s hull, and the sound sent chills up his spine. He began to worry, once again, about the wisdom of his earlier decision to attack the Chinese task group.

  “Conn, sonar, we just detected a submarine on the surface. It’s beginning to submerge!”

  Mack remanned battle stations. The atmosphere in the sonar room grew very tense as everyone waited for the next contact evaluation. It wasn’t long in coming, and it wasn’t good news.

  “Conn, sonar, we’ve got another contact,” reported the sonar supervisor. “This one sounds like a Romeo. It must have been waiting for us, playing dead in the water, because we didn’t hear it before the active sonar from that helo.”

  Sonar designated the helo as sonar contact Sierra 179. Mack designated the Romeo as Master 21.

  Antisubmarine helicopters were always a danger. They were hard for submarines to detect, and their dipping sonars and sonobuoys could provide enemy forces with valuable data on the location of Cheyenne. And that was exactly what this one seemed to be doing.

  And if the helicopter was within its torpedo range, Mack realized, they could also drop a torpedo in the water. That would definitely ruin our day, he thought.

  “Range to the Romeo, Master 21, is seventeen thousand yards, bearing 025,” the fire-control coordinator reported.

  “Sonar, conn, what’s the classification on the one that just submerged?” Mack asked.

  “Conn, sonar, it sounds like another Romeo. It sounds closer, bearing 027, sir. Designate Master 22?”

  The BSY-1 operators quickly determined that two enemy submarines were five thousand yards from one another. Cheyenne, it turned out, was on a bearing directly between them, the reciprocal bearing 206 if they detected her.

  At that moment, the helicopter’s dipping sonar was active again, and this time it was directly overhead.

  Mack smiled. That helo pilot had just done them a favor. The two Chinese submarines may have already acquired Cheyenne—which meant that the latest “ping” didn’t help them at all. But the sound energy reflecting off their hulls into Cheyenne’s waiting sonars and the BSY-1 computers gave her accurate firing solutions for both Romeo class submarines.

  “Make tubes one and two ready in all respects,” Mack ordered. “Open the outer doors. Firing point procedures, tube one, Master 21, and tube two, Master 22.” Mack wanted the first torpedo going after the closer submarine and the second torpedo aimed at the other.

  His orders were confirmed quickly and efficiently.

  “Match sonar bearings and shoot, tube one, Master 21 and tube two, Master 22,” he ordered.

  “Match bearings and shoot, tube one, Master 21, and tube two, Master 22, aye, Captain.”

  Both torpedoes quickly acquired.

  Mack acknowledged the reports. “Now, let’s get the hell out of here before we get attacked by that helo. Cut the wires, shut the outer doors, and reload tubes one and two. Ahead flank, right full rudder, make your depth 800 feet, steady on course 180.” Mack was calm as the directed commands were repeated by the persons intended for them. Cheyenne had become a fine-tuned fighting machine. Each man knew what was expected of him.

  Above them, high in the sky, a lone F-14 flying from the aircraft carrier Independence saw the target blip on its radar long before the Chinese helicopter had any idea what was about to happen. With permission of the flag watch officer aboard Independence, the 000-045 sector F-14 pilot was allowed to advance his sector since he had radar contact on the Chinese helo that was harassing Cheyenne. After he cut in his afterburners and approached the target at supersonic speed, permission to fire was passed from the TAO (tactical action officer). With a thumb push on the pickle, the pilot reported “Phoenix 1 away.”

  Behind him, in the backseat, his RIO (radar intercept officer), who had done all the targeting work, said, “Phoenix is locked on. That submarine captain sure owes us one.”

  Aboard Cheyenne, the sonar supervisor couldn’t explain his latest detections to Mack. “Conn, sonar,” he said, “the helicopter, the one above our position ... I think she just crashed! Something fell in the water and the TB-23 is not picking up any helo turbine noise anymore.”

  “I guess we just broke Murphy’s law,” Mack replied, his voice as calm and efficient as ever.

  Mack had decided not to designate the helo with a Master number. He would leave that to the aviators. However, the helo would find itself in the history of submarine warfare, in Mack’s patrol report, by virtue of Cheyenne’s “Sierra” designation assigned to the helo as one of Cheyenne’s many sonar contacts.

  The remainder of their transit into the southern end of the South China Sea proved, to the delight of both the captain and the crew, to be entirely uneventful. Mack had not realized how enjoyable an uneventful stretch of time could be when the alternative was someone shooting at his submarine.

  When they met up with Independence northwest of Natuna Island, Mack and his crew learned that both Mk 48s had found their marks and the Chinese were now down another two submarines. Mack had also discovered the true story behind the “crash” of their Chinese helo.

  Mack sent a message to the SEC (submarine element coordinator) on board Independence, requesting a special “thank-you” for the F-14 pilot—a thank-you that, whenever they got a chance to get ashore to buy one, would include a very nice bottle of wine.

  3.

  Four if by Sea, Six if by Land

  Come to periscope depth,” Mack said. ”I want to have a quick look around before proceeding.” Cheyenne moved slowly from her current depth of three hundred feet beneath the surface of the South China Sea, pausing at one hundred thirty feet to clear baffles. When the sonar supervisor reported no contacts to the OOD, Cheyenne completed her excursion to fifty-nine feet. Before arriving, the OOD, Mack, and the crew members who were trying to eat could feel the effects of the sea state.

  Mack had raised the Type 18 periscope while the OOD rode the leaner, less detectable, Type 2 attack periscope. Two sets of eyes were better than one, especially since the sea state could easily mask quiet surface contacts. Once they were near ordered depth, the tops of both periscopes were intermittently awash in the four-foot swells, which were frequently topped with significantly higher waves.

  In order not to broach, Cheyenne had to take the swells, caused by a distant storm, no more than forty-five degrees forward of the beam. Otherwise, she would have a tendency to pitch with a ten-second period due to the ninety-foot wavelength of sea state four. Pitching up or down with Cheyenne‘s forward momentum could result in an uncontrollable angle, causing either the sail t
o be exposed during an up angle or the stern to be exposed during a down angle. Exposing the stern was more dangerous because the seven blades of Cheyenne’s screw would pass through the air-water interface, causing unwanted high-torque jolting of the shaft as each exposed blade once again encountered the water. The weather on the surface was terrible, with violent thunderstorms breaking over the entire region. The power and majesty of the storms were breathtaking, but Mack found himself thinking more about how much they might be affecting flight operations on board Independence. He knew how much bad weather could degrade surface ship operations. That was just one of the many reasons he loved working far beneath the turbulent surface. Unlike their surface counterparts—and especially pilots and land-based soldiers—submariners were rarely affected by the weather, except when they needed to go to periscope depth.

  On behalf of the crew, Mack decided to keep the time at periscope depth to a minimum. After copying the SSIXS broadcast and verifying that there were no surface contacts in the vicinity, Mack ordered the OOD to proceed deep beneath the storm, which unfortunately had eroded the first thermal layer, causing an isotherm (constant temperature) from the surface to over six hundred feet.

  Six hours earlier, Cheyenne had arrived safely at her rendezvous point with the carrier Independence one hundred miles northwest of Natuna Island. The entire Independence Battle Group was now heading in the direction of the Spratly Islands. Cheyenne’s current assignment was to patrol the nearby waters in search of any enemy submarines that might try to sneak up on the Battle Group.

  In a way, Cheyenne was operating like a fighter pilot assigned to air cover. She was Independence‘s first line of ASW defense, 130 miles ahead where the noise of the Battle Group’s ships would not degrade Cheyenne’s sonars, and where the F-14s from Independence could, in better weather, provide about a ten-hour heads-up to Cheyenne on approaching surface targets.

  Mack was looking forward to the escort duty, a chance to be the SSN(DS) (direct support) for which the Los Angeles class was originally built. Not only would it be a nice change of pace but, more important, it meant he could have assistance from the carrier if and when he needed it.

  The only problem was that Cheyenne was alone. Instead of sharing the 180 sector forward of the Battle Group with two other SSNs, Mack had it all. That was fine for the prevention of mutual interference, especially in a shooting war, but it was an impossibly large area of responsibility for a single SSN.

  Independence was the last active member of the Forrestal class of aircraft carriers. These vessels, the first real “supercarriers,” were built during the 1950s. By 1997 they all had been decommissioned except Independence. At one point, there had been plans to turn “Indy’s” sister ship, Forrestal, into a training carrier, but those plans had been scrapped due to budget cuts. Independence herself had been scheduled for decommissioning in October of this year, but Mack suspected that this war might change things.

  All aircraft carriers’ strength lay with their aircraft, and CV-62 was no exception. Independence’s aircraft were as good or better than any combat aircraft in the world. Her current complement of aircraft included twenty F-14 Tomcats for long range interceptor missions. With their new precision strike capability, the F-14s were sometimes referred to as the “bomb cat.” Independence also carried F/A-18 Hornets, which were perhaps the best dual-capable (fighter/attack) aircraft in the world. The Independence air wing commander, now an aviator O-6 major command billet, could use them to defend the carrier or to attack far-off targets on land or at sea. Also on board were four E-2C Hawkeyes and four EA-6B Prowlers. The Hawkeyes were early warning planes and each one carried the APS-145 radar in a large disk connected to the top of its fuselage. The Prowlers specialized in radar jamming and other forms of electronic warfare.

  Perhaps her most valuable aircraft, at least as far as Mack was concerned, were the S-3B Vikings, the submariner’s favorite. This was one of the world’s great aircraft designs, combining an extremely long range and an excellent ability to hunt “enemy” submarines. During several exercise encounters with S-3s, Mack had learned to respect them greatly, and he was glad that they were on his side.

  The only aircraft that could possibly compete with the Viking was the SH-60 Seahawk helicopter. It lacked the range of the S-3, but Cheyenne had seen for herself just how effective the Seahawks could be. This was the aircraft that had earlier destroyed the Chinese Han submarine while Cheyenne tracked their actions by sonar, and Independence carried six of them. Because of her immediate locality to the war zone and the risk from Chinese submarines, Independence had been designated as the test ship for the new SH-60Rs—the newest type of Seahawk. This was the first to carry both the new airborne low-frequency dipping sonar, usually referred to as ALFS, and sonobuoys. It also had two torpedoes on board—either the powerful Mk 50 or the older Mk 46. These factors combined to make the SH-60R the most dangerous short-range ASW platform hovering over the seas.

  Even with all this firepower on board, the carrier still had her serious vulnerabilities. She needed to be escorted by surface vessels, and her entire group was vulnerable to modern enemy submarines. And that was where Cheyenne came into play. She would act as an advance party for Independence, proceeding well ahead of the Battle Group and either clearing a safe path or warning them of possible dangers that the F-14 radars couldn’t detect. This combination of surface ships, aircraft, and submarines resulted in what Mack referred to as “synergism,” where the end result of operating together would be far more devastating to the Chinese than if each warfare community operated alone.

  Unmindful of the weather, the Independence Battle Group got under way, steaming northward in the direction of the Spratlys. Travelling at flank speed, Cheyenne executed a quick sprint to regain her station in front of the Battle Group. If Mack fell behind the trailing edge of his moving search sector, Cheyenne would be free game, the so-called friendly fire problem that was a sad reality of warfare. When she was near the leading edge of her moving haven slightly over an hour later, Cheyenne slowed and waited.

  After slowing, Mack ordered the OOD to deploy the TB-23 towed array for its long-range tonal-detection capability. The report came back exactly as he’d hoped—no contacts on the towed array. The sonar room watch standers watched their consoles and waited for Mack’s next orders.

  “Officer of the deck, prepare to come to periscope depth,” Captain Mackey ordered. Mack wanted to relay information about the safety of their route back to the Independence Battle Group.

  “Prepare to come to periscope depth, aye, sir,” the OOD replied.

  But Mack didn’t get the chance to report to Independence. Before Cheyenne came shallow enough to transmit, she began to receive message traffic over the floating wire.

  “Sir,” the communicator reported, “it looks like we just got new orders!”

  Mack went to the radio room, grabbed the sheet of printer paper, and quickly read the message.

  “Looks like a strike mission to me,” the communicator said, with a note of eagerness and brashness. “What do you think, sir?”

  That annoyed Mack. It was a breach of protocol, and not smart. He looked at the communicator and shook his head. “Call a meeting in the wardroom in ten minutes,” he said, putting an edge in his tone. “I want the executive officer, the combat systems officer, the operations officer, and yourself there.”

  The communicator knew he’d screwed up. “Ten minutes, in the wardroom, aye, sir,” he said. The cocky note was gone from his voice.

  Cheyenne returned to a patrol depth of 247 feet since the first thermal layer was gone, and within eight minutes all requested officers were waiting for Captain Mackey to arrive in Cheyenne’s wardroom. Mack came in five minutes late. He carried a plain manila folder in his hand.

  “Gentlemen,” he said. “I have called this meeting in order to pass on our new orders. From our present position in the South China Sea, we are to proceed to the north of the Chinese-held Spratly Islands. Once
there, three hundred miles north, we will launch six Tomahawk land-attack missiles at the Chinese submarine base that has recently been set up near Cuarteron Reef, one of the islands in the Spratly chain.”

  He paused to see how the others would react. He was pleased to see that, while there was some tension, it was mostly excitement, with only a touch of healthy caution. He was also pleased that the communicator kept his mouth shut.

  “As you all know,” Mack continued, “naval intelligence has reported large numbers of Chinese submarines operating in this area. We’ve confirmed this with our own detections. Our new orders are to do something about that.” He paused again, making sure that everyone was paying full attention. “We are going to enter the belly of the beast,” he said. “We will launch our Tomahawks as ordered, and then we will meet up with the submarine tender USS McKee in order to rearm.” He grinned and added, “Maybe we’ll even get a quick glimpse of life on the surface.”

  His lighthearted joke helped to ease the tension slightly. The assembled officers had a few questions. They discussed their options, and then Mack dismissed them to return to their duties. When he had returned to the conn, he used the 1MC to inform the crew of their new mission. From there on out, Cheyenne would use sound-powered phones instead of general announcing systems.

  Forty-five minutes later Cheyenne once again went to periscope depth. The seas had abated somewhat, but copying SSIXS required the use of the long, multipurpose communications mast to preclude the loss of synch caused by waves slapping over the Type 18 periscope communications antenna.

  Mack stayed at that depth just long enough to receive preliminary Tomahawk targeting data. This information, which they would confirm when they got closer to their launch position, would be fed to their cruise missiles prior to launching the Tomahawks. Mack hoped the weather would be better north of the Spratlys.