Ssn (1996)

by Clancy, Tom

  The captain passed the order for the torpedo room to “Make tubes one and two ready in all respects, including opening the outer doors.” It was Cheyenne’s routine to make the tubes ready as early as possible and as far from the enemy submarine as possible, but it was even more important when facing the quiet Akulas.

  The Akula class carried its own towed arrays. Intel had not been able to learn much about its sensor capability, so Mack had to make his own assumptions about it. He had already decided to play it safe and assume that it was equivalent to at least a TB-16 array and a BQQ-5A sonar capability, the first of the U.S. submarine force digital sonar systems.

  The acknowledgment of his order came quickly over the sound powered phone. “Make tubes one and two ready in all respects, including opening the outer doors, fire control, torpedo room, aye.”

  Confirmation followed moments later, and the executive officer informed the captain that the ordered evolution with the torpedo tubes had been completed. “Captain, tubes one and two are ready in all respects. Both outer doors are open.”

  “Very well, fire control,” Mack replied.

  Cheyenne had faced a number of foes already, and in some of the encounters she’d gotten lucky. This wasn’t one of those times.

  The Akula was tracking to the west, which put its towed array in a more optimal position for detection than Cheyenne, whose array was trained optimally only when they zigged and zagged while approaching the Akula. Cheyenne was closing the range, intending to intercept with a fire-control solution before the Akula could reach the banks, where it would be acoustically shielded. Mack knew that the other Akulas had to be out there as well, but Cheyenne could not detect them. They remained silent, deadly holes in the ocean.

  The Akula continued drawing left as Cheyenne closed. It was still showing up only as sonar tonals, with no contact from the spherical or conformal arrays. But that was enough.

  The TB-23 inputs to the three BSY-1 computer consoles, augmented by Cheyenne’s course changes, made the solution possible for the fire-control party. When the BSY-1 operator and the fire-control coordinator were satisfied with the TMA (target-motion analysis) solution on Master 74, the Russian Akula II SSN, the captain ordered, “Firing point procedures, Master 74.”

  The combat systems officer reported the target course as 270, speed eight, and range 22,500 yards.

  “Sonar, conn, stand by,” Mack ordered.

  “Conn, sonar, standing by.”

  “Match sonar bearings and shoot, tubes one and two.”

  “Match sonar bearings and shoot, tubes one and two, aye.”

  There was a brief pause and then the combat systems officer said, “Tubes one and two fired electrically.”

  “Conn, sonar, units from tubes one and two running hot, straight, and normal,” the sonar supervisor reported as the two torpedoes executed their wire-clearance maneuvers and accelerated to slow speed for the long inbound run.

  “Sonar, conn, aye,” Mack replied.

  At dinner earlier, he had told his officers they might have to be innovative against the Akulas. He hadn’t forgotten. “Take charge and steer the weapons,” he said. “Unit one off course thirty degrees to the right and unit two off course thirty degrees to the left.”

  The fire-control party immediately knew what Mack had in mind, and they loved it. When the torpedoes were close enough for passive acquisition, they would be steered back in the opposite direction. Upon acquisition, the incoming torpedoes would make it appear that they had come from two separate U.S. submarines, lurking to the west and the east, instead of only Cheyenne closing from the south.

  “Time to turn the units?” Mack asked.

  “Twenty-three minutes, forty-five seconds, Captain,” the combat systems officer replied.

  The torpedoes were turned on cue, bearing down on the Akula. To increase their chances, one torpedo led the target while the other lagged slightly behind.

  “Time to acquisition?” Mack asked the combat systems officer.

  “Nine minutes, Captain.”

  That was his best guess, and it was wrong. Only five minutes had elapsed when the combat systems officer announced, “Unit two has acquired.” A moment later he added, “Unit one has acquired, but it’s not Master 74.”

  That could mean only one thing: the torpedoes had each detected a different Akula—the one they had first targeted and a bonus. Mack didn’t have time to celebrate. “Cut the wires, shut the outer doors, and reload tubes one and two,” he ordered.

  The silent ocean didn’t stay silent for long. “Conn, sonar,” the sonar supervisor said with tension in his voice, “we have two torpedoes in the water, bearings 350 and 010.”

  Mack smiled to himself as he heard the bearings. The Russian CO had launched snapshots at the bearings of the incoming torpedoes, but Mack’s ploy had worked. The Russian torpedoes were not headed for Cheyenne.

  “Conn, sonar, the hornets’ nest is emptying.” Six new contacts on the spherical array as well as Master 74 indicated that the Akulas were running for it. But they were also turning to the south to avoid the easterly and westerly bearings of the invading Mk 48s. Spherical-array depression-angle changes indicated they were also coming down to Cheyenne’s depth zone.

  “All ahead flank. Do not cavitate. Make your depth one thousand feet,” Mack ordered.

  Cheyenne was already deep beneath the second layer, so it took less than a minute for her to reach flank speed, on course due north, and at one thousand feet. The nearly zero bearing rate she presented to the Russians meant that Cheyenne would give them a taste—if they detected her—of the Chinese kamikaze runs weeks earlier. But Mack didn’t think they’d detect her, even at flank speed and deep. The range was too great, and the Akulas were running too fast for a TB-16 and BQQ-5-equivalent sensor suited to detect any but the closest targets.

  “Conn, sonar, two explosions, bearings 359 and 002, range hard to discern, estimate 18 to 20,000 yards.”

  Mack picked up the OOD’s JA sound-powered phone and spoke to the officers and men of Cheyenne through the compartment phone talkers: “This is the captain. Gentlemen, Cheyenne has won again. Excellent work. We still have a number of Russian SSNs out there, and they aren’t too happy.” Hanging up the phone, he turned to the chief of the watch and said, “Chief of the watch, stand down but do not secure from battle stations.”

  Even as he gave the order, though, Mack knew that the stand-down from the tension could easily be short lived, especially if the remaining Akulas continued heading to the south.

  “Conn, sonar, we have multiple underwater telephone contacts bearing 355 to 005.” The Akulas had slowed and were conducting range checks with each other. This was exactly why they’d brought the RuLings aboard, to help with range inputs to the BSY-1 by translating the ranges being passed between the remaining five Akulas.

  Captain Mackey ordered the towed array housed. They wouldn’t need it during the short-range tracking currently in progress.

  When that order had been acknowledged and confirmed, he turned his attention on the remaining Akulas. “Torpedo room, fire control, make tubes three and four ready in all respects, including opening the outer doors.”

  “Make tubes three and four ready in all respects, including opening the outer doors, fire control, torpedo room, aye.”

  Even in the aftermath of their latest kills, the officers and crew of Cheyenne maintained their crisp, efficient, and professional performance.

  As soon as the torpedo room reported completing the ordered evolution with the torpedo tubes, the executive officer relayed the information to Captain Mackey. “Captain, tubes three and four are ready in all respects. Both outer doors are open.”

  “Very well, fire control,” he replied.

  Only two of the five Akulas were being tracked, but Cheyenne now had contact on all her sonar arrays. When the BSY-1 operator and the fire-control coordinator were satisfied with the TMA solution on Masters 76 and 80, Mack gave the command, “Firing point pro
cedures, Master 76, tube three and Master 80, tube four.”

  As before, the combat systems officer at the BSY-1 reported the course, speed, and range of the two targets.

  “Sonar, conn, stand by.”

  “Conn, sonar, standing by.”

  “Match sonar bearings and shoot, tubes three and four.”

  “Match sonar bearings and shoot, tubes three and four, aye.”

  “Tubes three and four fired electrically,” reported the combat systems officer.

  “Conn, sonar, units from tubes three and four running hot, straight, and normal,” the sonar supervisor reported as the two torpedoes executed their wire-clearance maneuvers.

  Unlike the torpedoes Cheyenne had fired at the first Akula, these were set to run at slow speed until acquisition. Once they had acquired, they would increase their speed and head up from their deep search depth. When they breached the layer, the torpedoes would pitch up and complete their acceleration to attack speed.

  “Sonar, conn, aye,” responded the captain. “Time to acquisition?”

  “Fourteen minutes, fifteen seconds, Captain,” answered the combat systems officer.

  By now, Mack had learned that a minute never lasted so long as when you were waiting for torpedoes to acquire the enemy—unless, of course, you were waiting for an enemy torpedo to acquire you.

  “Both units have acquired.”

  “Conn, sonar, Masters 76 and 80 are increasing speed, cavitating heavily.”

  Sonar reported noisemakers launched by the two Akulas. Mack responded by ordering “steer the weapons.” In order to do this, Cheyenne needed to change her course to the left by ninety degrees so that the bearings to the incoming Akula would diverge from the bearings to the stationary noisemakers.

  As soon as the course change was completed, sonar detected the other three Akulas. They were to the northwest of the ones being attacked and were heading for the Paracels.

  When a bearing spread was obtained, the combat systems officer reported the torpedoes on course for intercept.

  “Cut the wires, shut the outer doors, and reload tubes three and four,” ordered the captain. “Make tubes one and two ready in all respects, including opening the outer doors.”

  He didn’t expect to need them, but another melee situation was always possible, and it was better to be prepared for an emergency that never happened than to save the effort and regret it.

  “Conn, sonar, we have four torpedoes in the water, bearings 358, 359, 006, and 008. Both Akulas have launched.”

  “Match sonar bearings and shoot, Masters 76 and 80, as soon as tubes one and two are ready.”

  Mack knew it was time for Cheyenne to clear datum. It was also time for their own countermeasures to be launched. As soon as he received the report of tubes one and two being fired electrically, he ordered the outer doors shut and the tubes reloaded. That would cut the guidance wires, but there was no help for it, and those torpedoes were outstanding at doing their own thing.

  “Steady as she goes,” he said. “All ahead flank. Do not cavitate. Make your depth one thousand feet.” When those orders had been acknowledged, but before they had been executed, he added, “Rig ship for depth charge.”

  The Akulas were running away. Mack was relying on the countermeasures to hide him from their sonar. That would give Cheyenne the chance to slip away—but Mack had no intention of slipping away. He was going after the fleeing Akulas.

  Cheyenne reached flank speed, on course 275, and at one thousand feet, as the Russian torpedoes entered the baffles after the countermeasures. Sonar didn’t hear Cheyenne’s last two torpedoes as they entered their terminal homing modes.

  “Conn, sonar, two explosions bearing,” the sonar supervisor began, but he interrupted himself. “Two more explosions, all to the north. They’re lighting up all three sonar consoles, Captain.”

  He couldn’t provide range information for Mack, however. There was too much reverberation to get both direct path and bottom bounce information. But with the four explosions, sonar was sure the torpedoes found their mark.

  Moments later sonar’s guess was confirmed. The four explosions were followed by the distinctive sounds of external pressure vessels on the Russian SSNs imploding from their descent to the bottom of the South China Sea. All four Akulas had been killed.

  Four of seven, Mack thought. That’s what CTF 74 wanted. But it’s not what I want. Cheyenne would try for the last three, if she could catch them before they entered the territorial waters surrounding the Paracels.

  First, though, he had to make sure the Akulas didn’t have any support. He ordered Cheyenne to proceed above the layer, and then to clear her baffles to starboard. Only the three Akulas fleeing to the Paracels were there.

  Satisfied, Mack took Cheyenne back beneath the layer. He also took the opportunity to secure from battle stations while they took up hot pursuit toward the shallow waters of the Paracels. At his command, the crew deployed the TB-16 for the time being, at least until they started their approach to shallow water.

  Cheyenne continued on course toward the Paracels, at seven hundred feet to keep beneath the layer, while battle stations and the rig for depth charge were secured.

  Mack held his all-officer meeting after the battle stations fire-control party had reconstructed the attacks and reported their findings. Cheyenne had performed superbly, and the critique was very positive, but one item from the battle was bothering Mack.

  It had been clear earlier that the Chinese commander-in-chief had ordered drastic measures. Cheyenne had seen that before, and had taken measures to counter it—at least, as much as possible. And Mack could understand it, from the Chinese... but not from the Russians. They weren’t at war with the United States. They had no reason to sacrifice themselves in battle. But they had.

  Just like the Chinese Hans earlier, these Akulas had continued on course right at Cheyenne’s datum without trying to turn away, even when Mk 48s were coming their way. And it just didn’t make sense. Not with Russian crews aboard those Akulas. And not with Russia not formally involved in this war.

  The officers discussed it among themselves, but no one came up with an answer that satisfied Mack. He filed the problem for the time being, but he intended to keep it in mind. Just as he’d shifted his tactics against the Chinese, so, too, would he take this into account the next time he went head-to-head with an Akula.

  As Cheyenne approached the time for coming shallow, sonar reported numerous merchant ship contacts and also reported contact lost on the three Akulas. Mack wasn’t surprised, and at least they were still south of the banks where they didn’t have to worry about the oil rigs.

  Biologics were also hindering the sonar search, and increasing the Russians’ options. Running beneath and with the merchant ships was an old ploy, and one Mack wasn’t about to fall for. He ordered sonar to conduct a careful tonal search on the bearings of the merchants and the biologics. A disturbance of previously undisturbed biologics could mean that a submarine was proceeding in their scattering layer.

  The search was painstaking, but it paid off. Sonar gained contact on one Akula as it entered shallow water—and none too soon. Cheyenne’s towed array would have to be at least partially retrieved before she could enter the shallows without fear of damaging the array, and Mack couldn’t risk that. He expected he would need it for future patrols, especially since neither Arco nor McKee had replacement arrays for Cheyenne. If the runways at Cubi got fixed before the war was over, replacements would come in by airlift. Until then, Cheyenne couldn’t risk the one she had.

  Mack ordered the TB-16 to short stay as Cheyenne ventured inside the one hundred fathom curve south of Bombay Reef in the Paracels. There would not be much time before the Akulas were safely in port, which meant that despite the Crazy Ivan or kamikaze Chinese maneuvers, a short-range attack was inevitable.

  Battle stations were manned once the range to the Akula closed to inside 15,000 yards. Almost immediately sonar reported transient noises, su
rfacing submarines bearing 345 and 350. Cheyenne was ready with two outer doors already open.

  “Snapshots, tubes one and two, bearings 345 and 350 respectively,” Mack ordered. He had no idea what the Master Numbers were from the previous battle in deep water, but it didn’t really matter. They would shoot now and reconstruct later.

  As with almost all snapshots, the Mk 48s would have to do their own thing in detecting, tracking, and sinking two of the Akulas, but Mack expected them to deliver. This would be just like sinking surface ships. The Russian submarines would increase speed after surfacing and, cavitating heavily, would never hear the torpedoes approaching in their baffles.

  No battle plan ever survives contact with the enemy, Mack reminded himself. But there was an answer to that. If the only element of your plan is contact with the enemy, there’s nothing to survive, and you’ve got a better chance of success.

  He was right. The two torpedoes, which had been set for shallow water, quickly acquired the Akulas. They detonated beneath their targets, rupturing the ballast tanks and sending the SSNs to settle to the bottom onto the coral reef.

  “Conn, sonar, we have explosions on the bearings of the torpedoes. Also have those same sounds of Christmas balls falling off a tree and breaking.” Two of the Akulas were running aground on purpose after the explosions, hoping to keep their sails high enough out of the water that the crew could escape safely. Mack let them go. He didn’t care about the Russian sailors. He cared only that the boats would be useless for the rest of the war.

  Cheyenne got to periscope depth in one hundred feet of water in time to see the third Akula passing safely over the horizon. Mack didn’t mind the one getting away so much as he minded not being able to get closer to the grounded Akulas. He would have liked to give the crew a special movie that night—periscope videos of Russian submariners jumping ship.

  He smiled to himself as he gave the orders to take Cheyenne back out into deeper water. They’d have to settle for The Sound of Music, which was one of Mack’s favorites. Or, he thought, his grin growing wider, maybe he’d give them a real treat and let them watch From Russia with Love.