Carrier (1999)

by Clancy, Tom - Nf

  Hauling his bags up the long brow to the hangar-deck-level entrance, together with what seemed like thousands of other officers and men, John felt very small and very diminished. And well he might. For in fact, the GW was full. Every single bunk, stateroom, and cot was filled; some were actually being shared by contractor, observation-team, and training personnel who were augmenting the normal ship’s crew. Though Lieutenant Joe Navritril, the capable young Public Affairs Officer (PAO) for the ship and battle group, had managed to find a stateroom for me up on the 02 level, John had to make do in somewhat less comfortable accommodations lower in the ship. Meanwhile, as John waited for Lieutenant Navritril to escort him below, he was able to meet a number of the ship’s officers, including Captain Rutheford and the newly appointed Executive Officer (XO), Commander Chuck Smith.

  After the young PAO arrived, he and John headed into the interior of the ship and went below. Once they reached the third deck, they headed aft to a small fifteen-man bunk room that was being used for overflow berthing during the coming exercise—hardly what you would call “plush” accommodations. Yet a quick look showed that nobody under the rank of lieutenant commander, or less than a contractor’s technical representative, was getting even these berths. So John, counting himself lucky, wedged his gear and large frame into a center bunk to get some rest.

  Even after nightfall, the entire ship was still like a sauna bath from the brutal pounding of the day’s sun. Despite the best efforts of the air conditioners, some spaces would not cool down during the coming voyage. Unfortunately, John’s bunk room was going to be one of these (it was located directly over one of the reactor/machinery spaces). Stoically accepting what couldn’t be changed, John and his shipmates settled down for the night, quietly sweating away the hours until the carrier sailed the following morning.

  Monday, August 18th, 1997

  JTFEX 97-3—Day 1 : The situation in the Gulf of Sabani continues to grow worse, with the forces of Korona continuing to mass along the Kartunan boarders. Responding to requests from the Kartunan government, Allied coalition naval forces are being assembled to move to the Gulf to protect Allied interests, and to be prepared for possible contingencies such as evacuations of civilians and other endangered personnel .

  After 0600 reveille, John rolled out of his rack to start the first of what would be many long, hot days at sea. Despite his cramped and steamy accommodations on the third deck, his location offered some advantages. For one thing, he was close to a nearby officers’ head (bathroom), complete with shower facilities; and the main officers’ dining room was located just a few steps forward of his berthing room. “Wardroom 3,” the largest of the officers’ dining areas aboard the GW, with room for over a hundred personnel to sit at once, is the social center of the ship. Service comes in two ways there. You can either pass through a cafeteria-style serving line, or you can have a mess specialist take your order.

  This morning, since he wanted to have a good view of the sailing, and Captain Rutheford had announced that the ship would slip moorings promptly at 0700, John hurried through his breakfast. Afterward, he headed up to “Vultures Row” on the island and found a place outboard to watch the proceedings. “Yank” Rutheford was prompt, and the lines were slipped at the top of the hour. Overhead, an HS-11 HH-60G helicopter kept watch for signs of trouble, as well as to feed the traffic situation in the channel down to Captain Rutheford. Gently putting a few turns of reverse power on the screws, he eased the big flattop far enough away from the pier for the three tugs to take a hold on the carrier’s hull.

  All of these actions are done with exquisite precision and patience. On the one hand, the berths in this part of the harbor give a Nimitz-class carrier only about ten feet/three meters of clearance from the muddy bottom. On the other, the huge propellers tend to stir up the mud and sand, which can clog the delicate seawater inlets and condensers, and thus they are used carefully until the ship is in the middle of the main channel.

  After backing carefully away from the pier, Captain Rutheford conned the ship in a wide reverse “Y” turn, leaving the GW aimed directly down the main channel leading to Hampton Roads. Calling, “All ahead one third,” he now began the run down the channel to the right-hand turn that leads to Hampton Roads and the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay.

  Meanwhile, other ships of the battle group and ARG were pulling out of their berths behind the GW, preparing to follow her down the channel. These included the cruisers Normandy (CG-60) and South Carolina (CGN-36), the Seattle (AOE-3), and the Guam. The cruisers would act as guards for the GW until the other ships of the battle group arrived to assist with that job. The Guam was on her way to meet up with the other three ships of her ARG, which were based down the Bay at Little Creek. From there, they would head south to Moorehead City, North Carolina, to pick up the personnel and equipment of the 24th MEU (SOC).

  In fact, all along the eastern seaboard of the U.S., warships were leaving port to join up with the GW for the coming exercise. At the submarine base at Groton, Connecticut, the nuclear attack submarines Toledo (SSN-769) and Annapolis (SSN-760) cleared the Thames River channel and Long Island, heading south to join up with the rest of the group. Similarly, down at Mayport, Florida, the destroyers Carney (DDG-64) and John Rodgers (DD-983) and guided-missile frigates Boone (FFG-28) and Underwood (FFG-36) were clearing the mouth of the Saint John’s River and heading north to the rendezvous point off of the Carolina coast. Finally, STANAFORLANT was finishing its trans-Atlantic run, planning to arrive several days hence.

  While all of this activity was going on, the various elements of CVW-1 were finishing their movement to airfields in the mid-Atlantic region and preparing to conduct their “fly-on” to the GW the following day. For most of the squadrons, things had gone quite well. Most of the air wing would fly aboard the following afternoon, after which they would conduct several days of carrier qualifications prior to the actual start of the JTFEX scenario.

  As they proceeded toward the open sea, the crew of the GW concentrated on getting things squared away after several months of berthing in Norfolk. All over the ship, electrical lines, hoses, and other pieces of equipment were being coiled, stowed, and put away. Even before the ship passed over the Hampton Roads Tunnel, there was a buzz of activity all over Gw. Captain Rutheford had several training evolutions to run before the carrier exited the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay—anchoring drills in the forecastle and tests of the various firefighting and damage-control systems. After GW passed the outer bay, Captain Rutheford ordered course 090° (due east), and headed for the Virginia capes, where they met the two cruisers, and began a run south to pick up the air wing.

  Tuesday, August 19th, 1997

  JTFEX 97-3—Day 2: The war of words between Korona and Kartuna continues, with additional Kartunan military units being brought to a heightened state of readiness. In addition, Allied National Intelligence Sources have begun to track suspected Kartunan SCUD ballistic missile units to their training and test ranges.

  That morning the GW and her cruiser escorts were operating in clear sunshine about 125 nm/230 km southeast of MCAS Cherry Point, North Carolina. Earlier they had broken into an area of high pressure and lower humidity, allowing the air-conditioning to get a start on removing the heat soak from the ships. Meanwhile, the GW flight deck crews were getting ready to take aboard their first jet aircraft of this cruise—not CVW-1 jets, but a group of USMC AV-8B Harrier II jump jets from Cherry Point. About 1100, the Harriers arrived, attracting lots of attention up on Vultures Row. Many of the young sailors had never seen a Harrier perform a vertical landing, a wondrous sight to folks used to the normal arrested landings of conventional carrier airplanes. After a short break for lunch, the Marines were off, so that the deck would be clear for the aircraft of CVW-1 arriving that afternoon.

  1300 found the GW and her escorts steaming into the gentle southwest wind, preparing to take aboard the first of the aircraft from CVW-1. This was a particularly dangerous time for the pilots and crews
of the air wing, since landing skills are easily lost without practice and it had been several months since their last “traps” aboard the GW during the CAPEX. For that reason, everyone on board the ship and in the air was being extra careful. Across the deck public-address system came the booming voices of the “Air Boss,” Commander John Kindred, and his assistant, the “Mini Boss,” Commander Carl June. Neither was risking ruining their perfect safety record during their assignments on board the GW. After making sure that the Landing Signals Officers (LSOs) were on their platform, the deck/safety crews were ready, the plane guard helicopter from HS-11 was overhead, and the cruisers were at their stations, the Air Boss and Mini Boss turned on the lights of the landing system and began to bring the air wing aboard.

  One of the first to land was Captain “Boomer” Stufflebeem, flying an F/A-18C Hornet. Behind him came the approximately seventy aircraft of CVW-1. As soon as each plane was safely down and the arresting wire was cleared of the tailhook, the pilot was directed forward to a parking area ahead of the island. There the aircraft were either chained down or directed two at a time to one of the elevators, where they would be struck below to the hangar deck. There they would be carefully parked, sometimes with only inches between each bird. The crews then headed below to their squadron ready rooms down on the O-2 level, where they would check their landing scores from the LSOs. These scores were important to the flight crews, since each of them would have to requalifiy to land aboard the GW before being allowed to fly operationally in the coming JTFEX. For the next several days in fact, carrier qualifications would be the major activity of GW and CVW-1. Until each squadron’s entire complement of air crew had successfully completed their required day and night “traps,” the GW would be nothing more than a training base. All of this took several days of nearly round-the-clock flight operations, and was to be the first real test of endurance for the GW and her crew.

  Wednesday, August 20th, 1997

  JTFEX 97-3—Day 3 : At the direction of the U. S. Department of State, all U. S. citizens in Korona and Kartuna have been ordered to evacuate due to the threat of armed conflict . In particular, due to the threat of Koronan armed intervention, the National Command Authorities of the United States have ordered the 24th MEU (SOC) to conduct a Non-Combatant Evacuation Operation (NEO) . This will be composed of U. S. citizens and other at-risk personnel from the Kartunan capital as soon as they can take up station in the Gulf of Sabani. In addition, elements of the George Washington Battle Group, the Guam Amphibious Ready Group, STANAFORLANT, and other units will stand by to support the NEO and other operations as required.

  My own expedition to join JTFEX 97-2 began at midday, when I boarded a VRC-40 C-2A Greyhound Carrier Onboard Delivery (COD) aircraft of VRC-40 at NAS Norfolk. As I had been warned, the flight was fully booked and every seat filled. Everyone traveling out to the battle group had only the three COD flights to and from the GW as available transport.

  Flying as a passenger on board a C-2 is unlike any other flying experience I’ve known. For starters, you sit in mildly uncomfortable “bucket” seats, facing aft in rows of four. Since payload and range are more important than creature comforts, the Greyhound has no sound-deadening material, and the air-conditioning system is decidedly crude, though robust. In the killing heat and humidity of the NAS Norfolk ramp, the vents spewed a chilling fog, which did not let up until we climbed to cruise altitude.

  To help protect the passengers against the noise of the twin turboprop engines, we were each issued a “Mickey Mouse” cranial helmet with ear protectors. In addition, we each wore a “float coat” life preserver, just in case we had to ditch during the flight. When all of us were strapped in, the two crew chiefs gave us a safety briefing, then raised the rear cargo ramp, and the flight crew started the engines. As soon as these had warmed up, the aircraft was taxied to the end of the runway, and we were off.

  Once the C-2A reached 10,000 feet/3,048 meters, the ride became more comfortable. The fog from the air-conditioning vents had become a flow of fresh air, and except for the constant rumble of the twin turboprops, everything was pleasant. As the aircraft turned southwest, we crossed over the coast and went “feet wet.” From my small window, I could see the four amphibious ships of the Guam ARG loading up the elements of the 24th MEU (SOC). When they finished this task, they would join up with the rest of the battle group, now operating approximately 200 nm/370 km offshore.

  It took us just under an hour to reach the battle group’s operating area, at which point we were put into a wide port turn to hold for landing. Since qualifying pilots is considered more important than landing VIPs, we circled the battle group for almost a half hour before the command came from the GW’s air traffic control center to get into the landing pattern. Soon after the Greyhound broke into the landing pattern, the flight crew gunned the engines and headed onto the final approach to the carrier.

  Back in the passenger/cargo compartment, the crew chiefs ordered all of us to brace ourselves. After a big “thump” when the wheels touched down, I was jammed back into my seat as the tailhook snagged one of the arresting wires. Once the aircraft was stopped, the deck crews quickly disengaged the hook and began to fold the wings. The flight crew then taxied forward to a parking space ahead of the island, where the deck crews immediately began to chain the bird down.

  Moments later, I was following the other passengers to a hatch in the island structure, and then down a ladder to the GW’s Air Transport Office (ATO) on the O-2 level. There we checked in with the ATO watch officer, handed in our survival gear, and picked up our bags. By this time, John Gresham and Lieutenant Navritril had arrived to escort me to my stateroom on the O-2 level. After a shower and a quiet dinner in Wardroom 3 with John and Lieutenant Navritril, I went to bed. Even the pounding noise of aircraft launching and landing one deck above did not keep me from sleeping.

  Thursday, August 21st, 1997

  JTFEX 97-3—Day 4: The Koronan government has continued to threaten their Kartunan neighbors. They are claiming that the Northern Kartunan province of Khemis is legally part of the Koronan homeland, and are demanding its concession to avoid hostilities. Meanwhile, the various personnel to be evacuated during the planned NEO have begun to assemble at the American embassy in the Kartunan capital city of Temal.

  I awoke at 0600, showered, and headed down the ladders to Wardroom 3 for breakfast. There I met John and Lieutenant Navritril. As we finished breakfast, Lieutenant Navritril informed us that we would be meeting with Admiral Mullen later that morning to discuss his plans for the upcoming exercise and his philosophy of running a carrier battle group.

  Promptly at 1000, we arrived in the flag officers quarters in “Blue Tile” land on the O-2 level, and soon after that we headed into the admiral’s sitting room. There Rear Admiral Mike Mullen, the commander of Cruiser-Destroyer Group Two (CRUDESGRU 2) and the GW battle group, warmly greeted us. Admiral Mullen is a surface line officer, one of the new generation of battle group commanders now sharing command opportunities with naval aviators. He is a handsome man, cool and intellectual; it’s no surprise that he has a Harvard master’s degree. At the moment, he was clearly preoccupied with getting the battle group set up for the coming JTFEX 97-3 exercise.

  Spacing his remarks between the metallic roars of Catapult Number One (located directly above his stateroom), he discussed his vision of CVBG operations. Back in the Cold War, he explained, the Navy feared that the Soviet Union would try to eliminate the U.S. naval presence by sending multiple regiments of Tu-22M Backfire and Tu-16 Badger bombers armed with huge air-to-surface missiles (ASMs). The idea was to kill the CVBGs, after which Soviet submarines and surface groups would clean up the survivors with their own SSMs. It was against this threat that systems like the F-14 Tomcat fighter and Aegis were developed; their function was to shield the CVBG from waves of incoming missiles.

  Today the world has greatly changed. With the bomber regiments of the Soviet Union a thing of the past, the threat of air att
ack on a CVBG has been so reduced that it is no longer necessary to maintain standing combat air patrols (CAPs) of airborne fighters. At the same time, the once-formidable fleet of Soviet submarines and missile ships is now either rusting at anchor, or else has been cut up into scrap metal. At this point the new CVBG tactics now practiced by Admiral Mullen and his contemporaries take the stage.

  Today’s CVBG tactics revolve around the reality that in the post-Cold War world very little threatens U.S. naval forces. The only navies in any way capable of hurting us are not likely to do that, since they are already friends like our NATO allies and Japan. Even if the friendship were somehow to cease, we could probably beat all of them together in a fair fight. All of this means practically that we can greatly reduce our commitment of aircraft and vessels to self-protection, and their resources can now be dedicated to the projection of offensive power. Now that they are relatively unconcerned about the military threat from other nations, CVBG commanders like Admiral Mullen want to be the military threat in a theater of operations. Obviously, Admiral Mullen does not plan to ignore enemy threats. To do that would be both foolish and irresponsible. Rather, he plans to leverage his best systems so as to defend the fleet with the greatest possible efficiency and effectiveness.

  The practical consequences of all this doctrinal thinking is that the “Outer Air Battle” concept that drove fleet air defense tactics in the 1980’s is dead and gone. Instead of massed CAPs of F-14 Tomcats and F/A-18 Hornet fighters, backed by a wall of SAM-armed escorts directed by the Aegis cruisers and destroyers, a more modest defense plan has been adopted. To that end Admiral Mullen now planned to depend on the SM-2 Standard SAMs aboard the Normandy, South Carolina, and Carney to project an air defense “bubble” over the battle group and ARG, while continuing their other jobs of keeping naval and submarine threats at bay. This would allow him to reserve the sorties of his Tomcats and Hornets for the job of delivering ordnance onto land and naval targets. In other words, the escorts would be doing a kind of “double duty” so as to allow the rest of the force to project offensive power into the littoral regions that would be their operating areas. Tomahawk and Harpoon cruise-missile strikes would be used wherever possible on fixed or naval targets, so that manned aircraft sorties would be saved for more mobile or more difficult missions.