by James Jinks
Aside from intelligence, such patrols provided opportunities for submarine crews to experience prolonged periods at sea confronting the Soviet Navy in war-like scenarios. The training value of operations in the north Norwegian Sea, where there were copious opportunities to confront Soviet submarines in a highly operational environment, were self-evident and it eventually became accepted policy that each CO should have at least six weeks conducting operations against the Soviet opposition during his time in command. These operations also demonstrated that the Royal Navy’s latest submarines were reliable and able to meet the demands placed on them during intensive periods at sea.
By the early 1980s SOSUS was regularly tracking over 200 submarine contacts a year, from which information was disseminated to Royal Navy and US Navy submarines, which would then attempt to track them. In May 1981, Commander Michael Boyce took HMS Superb on patrol on Operation ‘Monsea’ and over a period of twenty-six days detected and encountered twelve Soviet submarines.21 Superb departed Devonport and initially went north to intercept a Type II nuclear submarine that had been detected in the north Norwegian Sea, designated L-045. As Superb transited towards its target, a separate SOSUS contact, previously classified as L-041, a probable Type I nuclear submarine, was reportedly loitering in an area 150 miles north of the Iceland–Faroes Gap. Northwood ordered Superb to break away from L-045 and instead attempt to find L-041 in order to establish the nature of its operations and whether or not it was interacting with any other Soviet forces. Superb quickly obtained contact with L-041, closed, and fell in behind it to start a trail. There was no indication that the Soviet submarine was operating with any other vessels, but it was very noisy, and Boyce suspected that it might have been either on a simulated anti-shipping patrol, or acting as a confusing contact to decoy SOSUS/MPA detection efforts while quieter Soviet submarines passed in and out of the Atlantic.
As Northwood had instructed Superb to remain in contact with L-041 only if it was conducting anything other than a standard patrol, Boyce moved away in order to prosecute another SOSUS contact, a ‘Yankee’ class reportedly operating 300 miles to the northeast of Superb’s position, designated L-048. Before Superb could obtain contact with L-048, Northwood cancelled the prosecution order and ordered Superb to intercept another contact, a Type III nuclear submarine that appeared to be bound for the Western Atlantic via the Iceland–Faroes Gap, and designated L-046. Superb spent two days searching for L-046 in difficult conditions, but due to sparse SOSUS tracking information, which was in the region of 75 nautical miles, and a large amount of merchant traffic which helped to mask the submarine’s noise signature, Superb first detected the Soviet submarine at a range of only 2500 yards, and although it later passed about 1000 yards down Superb’s side the Soviet submarine did not show any signs of having detected Superb, which then manoeuvred into a trailing position and maintained both narrowband and broadband contact on it for the next forty-eight hours.
After collecting a considerable amount of intelligence Superb was tasked with intercepting a possible ‘Delta’ class submarine that had been picked up on SOSUS and designated L-052. However, after searching for the Delta, Superb was once again ordered to break away and intercept a Soviet task group led by the nuclear-powered guided-missile cruiser Kirov. The Kirov had deployed from the Barents Sea in company with a modified ‘Kashin’ class destroyer, a Soviet support ship and a possible ‘Charlie’ class SSGN. HMS Glasgow, a Royal Navy Type 42 destroyer, and a support ship, RFA Olwen, were already tracking the small task force; Superb was ordered to assist in the surveillance job and in particular to conduct underwater looks on all the Soviet vessels. Superb remained in contact with the Kirov group for three days with four principal objectives: to track the submarine consort – a ‘Charlie’ SSGN; to achieve close monitoring of Kirov, including an underwater look; to gather data on Kirov’s sonar; and to conduct an underwater look on the Soviet oceanographic research ship, now identified as Vladimir Kavrayskiy.
Superb failed to detect the ‘Charlie’ class submarine, as the level of background noise from the various ships in the area was far too high. The Kirov appeared to be carrying out sonar trials as it was tracking around a 40 nautical miles box with the ‘Kashin’ class destroyer and HMS Glasgow in company while Vladimir Kavrayskiy remained in the centre monitoring sonar transmissions. Due to these constant transmissions Superb was unable to approach Kirov and conduct an underwater look, but it did manage to conduct one on Vladimir Kavrayskiy, which was lying static in the water well clear of Kirov. Although Superb passed directly underneath, very little was observed due to poor water visibility. However, Superb was able to obtain a vast amount of information about the task group, particularly the Kirov, which did not stop transmitting while Superb was in the area. After a number of days in contact with the task group, Boyce was ordered to prosecute the ‘Delta’ class SSBN designated L-052.
While Superb was conducting surveillance against the Kirov group SOSUS had lost the ‘Delta’ and had only recently regained contact. Superb had little difficulty detecting the Soviet SSBN but quickly determined that it was extremely quiet and very well handled by the Soviet CO, who employed a number of tactics that led Superb to frequently lose contact. Despite this difficulty, Superb continued to track the Delta but with only weak and tenuous contact it proved very difficult to establish a firm trail. Eventually Superb reduced the range to around 3000 yards, and remained in the Delta’s stern arcs. Superb was sitting directly behind the Soviet submarine when it suddenly began to turn through 270 degrees and passed 600 yards astern of Superb. Boyce and Superb’s crew held their nerve and concluded that the manoeuvre was just a coincidental turn as part of the Delta’s erratic course alterations. The Delta showed no sign of having detected Superb and it continued to open up to the south, causing Superb to lose contact as the Soviet submarine was in its stern null. Twenty hours after initial contact Superb was ordered to withdraw to assume a new role in the Northern Fleet Exercise Areas.22
Not all trailing operations were successful. Towards the end of 1980 HMS Sceptre was forced to abandon an operation when it suffered extensive damage after being involved in one of the most fraught moments of the deep Cold War. Officially Sceptre hit an iceberg. Unofficially, the submarine collided with what was probably the ‘Delta III’ class SSBN K-211, which at the time believed it had collided with an unknown US Navy ‘Sturgeon’ class submarine.23 Sceptre had been trailing the Delta III, one of the Soviet Navy’s most advanced and quietest SSBN classes and an important intelligence target, but had lost contact. After attempting to regain contact for thirty minutes, Sceptre suddenly started to shake. ‘There was a huge noise,’ recalled one of Sceptre’s officers. ‘It started very far forward, sort of at the tip of the submarine, and it trailed back. It sounded like a scrawling. We were hitting something. That noise lasted for what seemed like a lifetime. It was probably only a couple of seconds or so. Everybody went white.’24 ‘I knew we’d impacted something straight away,’ said Chief Petty Officer Michael Cundell. ‘I ran out of the mess and alerted someone to shut one of the bulkhead doors, number 29, even though I knew there were people inside in the sleeping accommodation – I had to do it, because at that point we didn’t know if the hull had a leak and not doing so would have compromised the rest of the submarine.’25
According to accounts from those on board, Sceptre was then pursued for two days by a Soviet attack submarine. ‘We just made a sharp exit and escaped under the ice without trace,’ said Cundell. After shaking off the Soviet submarine Sceptre surfaced so that her crew could inspect the damage. There was a long tear along the outer hull and the conning tower and mangled pieces of material from the Soviet boat’s propellers were embedded into the hull. ‘It took a big chunk out of our casing,’ he said. The Soviet submarine had driven across Sceptre’s bow and its propellers had ripped into the submarine. ‘The tear started about three inches from the forward escape hatch’, said Cundell. ‘If that hatch had been hit or damaged –
it’s about 2 foot 6 in diameter – if that had been ruptured, then the fore-ends would have shipped water which would have made the boat very heavy. We would probably have sunk.’ Sceptre returned to Devonport and was put into dry dock for repairs. ‘I remember digging a lot of the propeller out of our hull, and although most of it went to the Ministry of Defence, I still have a piece,’ said Cundell.26
Doug Littlejohns assumed command of HMS Sceptre on 21 September 1981 and was given responsibility for bringing the boat back into the fleet. ‘The submarine was broken and so was the crew,’ recalled Littlejohns. ‘My main objectives were to get her out of dockyard hands as quickly as possible while also ensuring that the crew was fully trained and ready to venture back to sea. There were major challenges on both fronts.’27 When Sceptre finally put to sea Littlejohns found that, like all submariners, his crew were highly resilient:
The crew had been badly shaken but within 48 hours of leaving Plymouth you would not have known it. We took her out into the Western Approaches, dived with a remarkably good trim, given the structural and material changes which had taken place, and then proceeded gently to cross the 100 fathom line. We conducted a slow and careful dive to maximum diving depth – there were quite a few nervous and white faces as we got even deeper – and remained there for some time while the engineers did thorough checks all over the boat before pronouncing that all was well. Following that I changed tempo and ordered 20 knots, 20 degrees bow up and a depth of 200 feet. That caused the first set of badly secured crockery to smash and there was more to come when I ordered the planes reversed and at high speed plunged back down deep. I carried on like this for an hour or so at ever higher speeds, tighter turns and bigger angles and dangles until the crew realized that this was how it was going to be from then on! By now all the white faces and nervous looks had disappeared and were replaced by grins and laughs.28
Although Sceptre returned to the fleet and was declared fully operational, a legacy of the incident stuck with the submarine for the rest of its operational life.29 During the collision a piece of the Soviet submarine went through Sceptre’s propulsor and at certain speeds Sceptre would emit a noise signature which could be easily detected.
Intelligence collection operations never ceased (except in the weeks before general elections). At the end of 1981, HMS Superb detected the Soviet Union’s first third-generation nuclear submarine, the Project 949/‘Oscar’ class SSGN. At 144 metres in length, with an 18.2-metre beam, and displacing 22,500 tons, the ‘Oscar’ was one of the world’s largest submarines. Designed to counter US aircraft carriers, the submarine was very fast and capable of speeds in excess of 30 knots. It was armed with twenty-four new P-700 Granit anti-ship missiles, known in NATO as the SS-N-19 – three times as many cruise missiles as the previous Soviet SSGNs, the ‘Echo II’ or ‘Charlie’ class. Twelve missiles were placed in angled launch canisters between the pressure hull and the outer hull on each side of the submarine. The speed and impressive firepower of the ‘Oscar’ posed a major threat to surface ships; it was also extremely quiet in comparison with previous Soviet submarines. This was the vessel on whose beam HMS Superb fell in at about 5000 yards and watched as the submarine carried out a test firing.
The Royal Navy’s conventional submarines were also involved in collecting intelligence against the Soviet Navy. In July 1982, HMS Opportune was involved in an incident with the Soviet factory ship Rybachiy. Opportune, under the command of Lieutenant Commander Richard Burston, was tasked with conducting surveillance of the Rybachiy in an area 300 miles west of Lands End. Rybachiy appeared to be engaged in a bottom contour survey, using an echo sounder and an unidentified towed-array body. Burston’s orders were to try to ascertain what the Rybachiy had been doing since moving down from the Porcupine Bank, an area approximately 120 miles west of Ireland. Opportune spent five hours conducting two underwater looks on the Rybachiy in modest visibility, which produced no clear photographs of the hull domes or towing arrangements. The only unusual features were an unexplained fitting protruding two feet from the hull just aft of the port bilge and a probable towed-array body. Prior to departure Burston was briefed on the possible appearance of ‘lights near the waterline’. After completing the underwater looks, Opportune withdrew to snort and recharge batteries overnight. However, at 2232 on 11 July four white lights were indeed sighted on Rybachiy’s waterline. Burston decided to approach and investigate with the intention of making a close 400-yard pass up the port side attempting night photography for the exact locations.
As Opportune moved astern of the Rybachiy, Burston’s last visual look indicated that his submarine was on a safe course. However, just as Opportune was closing on Rybachiy, sonar information indicated that the Soviet vessel had altered course towards Opportune. Burston quickly raised the periscope to take another visual look and immediately ordered an emergency dive to take Opportune deep. But it was too late. At 0030 on 12 July, at approximately 62 feet, with 10 degrees bow down angle, the top of Opportune’s fin made contact with the underside of the Rybachiy and ran into its port screw and rudder. Alarms sounded all around Opportune’s Control Room as the submarine continued down to 140 feet, then 180 feet. Water was coming in from the bottom of the radar mast and neither periscope could be raised. Initial reports indicated that there were no serious breaches of watertight integrity or damage to propulsion or major systems and Burston decided to open up the range to the northwest at a speed of 8 knots for one hour, surfacing before twilight to conduct a visual inspection. After running for eight hours, Opportune surfaced. The damage was extensive. The bridge area had been pushed aft approximately 5 feet and compressed 2–3 feet on top of the attack and search periscopes. The remaining top of the fin area from the Officer of Watch position to the W/T mast was pushed back 2–5 feet and compressed downwards. The top 3 feet of the forward periscope was also bent back at 80 degrees and the top window had snapped off the aft periscope and lodged in the fin. Opportune returned to Portsmouth. Attempts to conceal the incident largely failed due to the media focus on the Navy in the aftermath of the Falklands conflict.30
The incidents involving HMS Sceptre and HMS Opportune were two exceptions to mostly highly successful operations against Soviet naval forces that yielded vast amounts of operational, acoustic and electronic intelligence on the movement and tactics of Soviet submarines.
THE 1981 DEFENCE REVIEW
With such increased emphasis on the SSN in the Royal Navy’s ASW operations, it was only a matter of time before someone started to question the need for the rest of the Royal Navy. As we have seen, the Conservative Government which came into office in 1979 faced a number of serious economic problems. When John Nott succeeded Francis Pym as Secretary of State for Defence in January 1981, he inherited a defence overspend from the previous financial year of £200m and a projected overspend for 1980/81 of £400m out of a total defence budget of £11.2bn. In trying to bring the defence budget under control, Nott also sought to understand naval strategy. The Navy saw its principal function in the event of war as the convoying of US reinforcements across the Atlantic and to support the American Carrier Battle Groups which were to move into Greenland, Icelandic and Norwegian waters to contain the Russian naval threat in the Atlantic. Nott was deeply unsatisfied with the quality of the briefings that he was receiving from the Naval Staff. ‘Again and again I saw that I was being briefed in a way that fortified the traditional naval interest without getting down to the real nitty-gritty,’ wrote Nott. He felt that he received ‘one inadequate briefing after another’ and was ‘asked to accept ideas which even a layman … could see were nonsense’.31
Of great concern to NATO was the possibility that the Soviets would mount a ground assault on northern Norway to seize aircraft bases to provide air cover to Soviet naval forces attempting to dominate the Norwegian Sea. NATO developed elaborate contingency plans for the rapid reinforcement of Europe in the event of war which were demonstrated in periodic exercises in which each plan would be tested a
nd various NATO forces given opportunities to familiarize themselves with the affected waters and territories. The Atlantic campaign, designed to protect the transportation of Allied reinforcement and resupply across the Atlantic, was periodically practised in a series of exercises known as ‘Ocean Safari’. A shallow-seas campaign designed to prevent the exit of the Soviet Baltic Fleet into the North Sea and to protect Allied convoys in the North Sea and the English Channel was practised in exercises codenamed ‘Northern Wedding’, and a Norwegian Sea campaign designed to prevent the exit of the Soviet Northern Fleet into the Norwegian Sea and the North Atlantic, and to provide sea-based support to Allied air and ground operations in Norway, was practised as Exercise ‘Teamwork’.
Although these exercises demonstrated the solidarity of the NATO Alliance and its determination to defend against any attack, the Royal Navy realized the vulnerability of the convoy system. In the NATO ‘Ocean Safari’ exercise of 1981, the direct defence of shipping carrying troops and supplies across the Atlantic was abandoned in favour of an experiment with a new ‘defended lanes’ concept, an attempt to use the potential of modern long-range passive sonars to sanitize an area through which independently routed ships or lightly escorted merchantmen could traverse.32 By the 1980s, as one naval historian has put it, ‘doctrinal thought was moving even further away from the ideas confirmed by past experience’.33