Submarine Warriors: The Enemy Beneath

by Rob Tiffany

  The Admiral proceeded to go over blueprints of the Trident submarine with the kids and gave them a crash course on the different systems and how they worked. Each of the kids had some knowledge of their father’s job onboard the sub, which was helpful.

  “Helmsman, Planesman, Chief of the Watch, Diving Officer, Fire Control, Officer of the Deck, Sonar, Torpedoes, Radio, Quartermaster, Maneuvering,” the Admiral barked out his checklist of vital stations.

  “Knowledge of how to operate various aspects of the sub by everyone in this room won’t be enough,” the Admiral remarked. “We’re going to need a sympathetic crew that’s eager to help us rather than have us arrested.”

  “How do we know the Alaska sailors won’t shoot us when we try to take over the sub?” asked Annie.

  “It’s a calculated risk,” the Admiral replied. “I’m betting on the fact that the XO can influence some of the crewmembers. The fact that your fathers are their shipmates also works in our favor. It’s critical that we get assistance from at least one of the watch sections if we hope to take the Alaska to sea.”

  “What’s a watch section?” Chrissie asked.

  “The crew of a submarine works on an eighteen-hour day,” the Admiral answered. “The crewmembers are divided into three groups, or sections, that each work six-hour shifts. While section one is driving the ship, section two is watching a movie, reading a book or performing other tasks and section three is sleeping. Luckily, no one has to hot-rack on a Trident.”

  “Hot rack?” a puzzled Mike queried.

  “On smaller, fast-attack subs, there aren’t enough bunks for all the crew members,” the Admiral explained. “Therefore, someone is sleeping in your rack while you’re on duty.”

  “That’s totally gross!” exclaimed Caroline. “I don’t want someone else’s drool on my pillow.”

  “Nobody said serving on a naval vessel was a pleasure cruise,” the Admiral added.

  Admiral Connery then ducked outside to the tree house deck where he made several very official-sounding phone calls on his cell phone.

  In the meantime, the kids continued to study submarine schematics and manuals.

  “Hey everybody,” Mike exclaimed. “I need all of you to set the Wi-Fi on your smartphones and tablets to ad-hoc mode. This will give us a private, peer-to-peer wireless network onboard the sub where we can communicate with VoIP and send each other emails and documents. Set the SSID to Treehouse. Also, to prevent others from snooping, enable WPA2 security and set the passphrase to Seabeck. I’ll be placing extra access points throughout the sub to make sure we have full coverage.”

  “I’ve converted all the ship’s manuals to PDFs and the schematics to Visio diagrams,” announced Annie. “You can grab what you need off my file share.”

  The Admiral hung up his phone and came back inside the tree house to address the children.

  “Okay kids, here’s the plan. I’ve talked to the Bangor subase commander and received approval to give you all a tour of the Alaska when she returns to port tomorrow. Because of everything you’ve been through, he thought it was a good idea to help give you closure. We won’t enter the sub until all non-essential crew has come topside to the pier to greet their wives and kids. This will leave only the one-third of the crew that has to remain on watch to do things like power down the reactor and other systems.”

  “I sure hope they don’t think we’re non-essential,” Mike said nervously.

  “One more thing; the base commander also gave me permission to bring you to the dive simulator tomorrow morning before the Alaska returns,” the Admiral said with a smile. “You’re going to get a crash course in driving a Trident submarine. Now everybody go home and get some rest.”

  Trident Training Facility (TriTraFac)

  After showing identification to the Marines at the main gate of the Bangor Submarine Base, the Admiral and the kids proceeded to the Trident Training Facility. It looked like an unassuming office building nestled amongst the tall Douglas Fir trees.

  “Good morning everyone,” announced Chief Petty Officer Gartrell to the gathered Admiral and children. “I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am about what happened to your fathers.”

  “Thanks, Chief,” replied a sleepy Nick.

  “This morning you’ll learn how to dive and drive a Trident submarine like a pro,” the Chief continued. “Here we have every aspect of the control room completely simulated using the most high tech gear you’ve ever seen.”

  “Is this like an Xbox?” Chrissie asked.

  “Even better,” Chief Gartrell replied. “Instead of playing a game on your TV, you’ll be right in the middle of the action. Do any of you remember movies like Jurassic Park?”

  “Sure, those dinosaurs rocked,” Nick responded.

  “The same Silicon Graphics technology used to make that movie is used here,” the Chief added.

  A giant simulator was supported in midair by hydraulic columns, allowing it to shift from the right to the left and pitch the bow up and down. It could simulate the calm feeling of gliding through the water at five knots, as well as the sudden shock of a collision. The Admiral and the kids entered the huge floating box to discover an exact replica of an Ohio-class control room. There were chairs and steering wheel-looking yokes for the Helmsman and Planesman, as well as control panels everywhere with colorful flashing lights.

  “Admiral, why don’t you be the Officer of the Deck for this exercise?” Chief Gartrell spoke as he walked behind the control panel.

  “I’d be delighted,” replied the Admiral.

  “Annie and Chrissie, you two sit in those chairs so you can pilot the sub,” the Chief directed. “Annie, as the Helmsman, you’ll steer the sub to the port and starboard, and you’ll dive and rise by pushing the yoke forward or pulling it back toward you. You also have the job of controlling the speed of the sub by twisting the engine order telegraph - that’s the knob over there. You will take your steering and speed orders from the Officer of the Deck and your depth orders from the Diving Officer.”

  “Chrissie, as the Planesman, you’ll control the ship’s bubble or pitch by pushing down or pulling back your yoke. You’ll take your orders from the Diving Officer.

  “I feel like I’m sitting in a 787 cockpit.” Annie giggled as she sat down next to Chrissie.

  “Mike, sit over there and man the Chief of the Watch station.” The Chief pointed to a panel to the left of the Planesman’s station. “You will bring water into and send water out of the sub to control buoyancy. You’ll also be able to move water fore and aft to keep the sub level or to help the Planesman with the angle of the sub.”

  “Nick, go sit over there and man the fire control panel. You will plot firing solutions based on the speed and bearing of your submarine, as well as that of your adversary. You’ll flood torpedo tubes, open and close the outer doors and fire wire-guided torpedoes when ordered.”

  “You mean these torpedoes have actual wires attached to them?” Nick asked.

  “That’s correct,” Chief Gartrell replied. “Thousands of feet of wire is spooled out of each torpedo allowing you to remote control it from the sub. Once the torpedo is near its target, you can have it go active and begin pinging to home-in for the kill.”

  “That’s so cool!” Nick exclaimed.

  “Caroline, I want you to be the Diving Officer,” the Chief continued. “You will stand behind Chrissie and Annie, and it’s your job to achieve and maintain the depth ordered by the Officer of the Deck. If we’re at periscope depth, it’s your responsibility to ensure the ship doesn’t broach the surface. When the Officer of the Deck orders you to make a particular depth, it’s your job to get there smartly.”

  “Smartly?” Caroline repeated with a perplexed look on her face.

  “Quickly,” translated Chief Gartrell.

  “Alright everyone, we better get to work if you ever want to be trusted with a two billion dollar submarine,” the Chief barked, as he walked behind the computerized control panel.
“Man battle stations!”

  The kids spent the rest of the morning learning how to steer, dive and surface a sub on the simulator, using planes, a rudder and high-pressure air. They even got to react to a simulated torpedo attack and a close-aboard explosion and lived to tell about it.

  Finishing up their training just before noon, the children thanked Chief Gartrell, piled into a Suburban with the Admiral, and drove back to Nick’s house.

  Tree House

  Chrissie was the first one out of the SUV and climbed up to the top of the rope ladder upon arriving at the tree house. When the door opened, her eyes opened wide in surprise as she gazed into a fully occupied tree house.

  “Mom?” Chrissie gasped as though she’d been caught red-handed doing something wrong. She looked back at her friends below. “We are so busted.”

  As it turned out, the moms of all the children were inside the tree house waiting for them - and that’s not all. Their mothers had already filled backpacks with breakfast bars, laptops, water bottles, phones, snacks and other supplies for each of the children.

  “This is so not happening,” Mike sighed.

  “Time for lunch,” announced Nick’s mom. “You’re going to need your strength in order to take part in an important mission like this.”

  “How did you know about this; and how come we’re not already grounded?” asked Nick.

  “I told them last night.” Admiral Connery spoke up. “We need their help to pull this off. They won’t be with us on the Alaska, but they have other important and risky tasks to accomplish.”

  “Granddad, I don’t want them involved in anything that could get them in trouble with the Navy,” Caroline protested.

  “Speak for yourself,” Caroline’s mother Julia retorted. “Your fathers are our husbands. If there’s even the slightest chance that they’re still alive, then there’s nothing we won’t do to try to get them back.”

  “Listen, everyone,” the Admiral spoke. “This is going to be an extremely dangerous mission and there’s probably more that can go wrong than any of us have considered. If we’re successful in stealing the sub, the entire US Navy will be coming for us. In order to save your fathers, we’ll probably find ourselves leapfrogging Osama bin Laden on America’s Most Wanted list.

  “The SEALs already capped him,” Nick pumped his fist in the air.

  “Right. Regardless, the President won’t take kindly to having his gold watch stolen.”

  “Gold watch?” Annie looked puzzled.

  “The Trident submarine is the most powerful weapon that the President has at his disposal,” the Admiral replied. “It’s sometimes referred to as his gold watch.”

  “Oh,” Annie nodded.

  “Listen, I don’t have a sword or any sand to draw a line in, but I want you all to know that you don’t have to participate in this endeavor,” the Admiral continued. “You’re all very smart and very brave and I see a lot of your fathers in each of you. If they could see you now, I know they would be very proud. Once we start this mission, though, there’s no turning back. It’s unlikely you’ll ever be able to return to your old lives as normal kids in school.”

  The Admiral paused to let the gravity of his words sink in.

  “If you’re with me, I want you to come over here and put your hand on top of mine.”

  The Admiral reached out his hand.

  “I’m with you, Granddad!” shouted Caroline, as she sprung to her feet and placed her hand on top of his.

  “I’m with you too,” said Nick, placing his hand on top of Caroline’s.

  “Me too!” yelled Chrissie, running over to place her hand on top of Nick’s.

  One by one, the rest of the children and all of their mothers rushed over to place their hands on top of each other’s like a football team in a huddle.

  “Go Panthers!” Caroline yelled out evoking their Poulsbo Middle School mascot.

  “Yeah, go Panthers!” Mike echoed.

  “Panthers! Panthers! Panthers!” everyone chanted excitedly as they streamed out of the tree house toward an uncertain future.

  Chapter 4 > Stealing the Sub

  Subase Bangor

  After cruising southward through the Hood Canal, the USS Alaska pulled up alongside the Delta Pier with the assistance of a tug boat.

  “Helm, all stop,” ordered the XO.

  “All stop helm, aye,” the young Helmsman replied.

  With that command, a Petty Officer back in Maneuvering spun the giant wheel to the fully closed position and the Alaska’s propeller stopped. Auxiliarymen securely tied the sub to the pier.

  “Secure the Maneuvering Watch,” the Chief of the Boat announced over the 1MC.

  This is the moment submariners looked forward to more than any other. Only this time, they didn’t have to wait until the end of a 70-day patrol. Almost the entire crew poured out of the sub and onto the pier to reunite with their loved ones after this short, strange trip.

  Admiral Connery and the kids made their way through the crowd of sailors and families. Recognized by the crewmembers as the children of their lost shipmates, they were overwhelmed by hugs and words of condolence by this extended Navy family. When they crossed the gangplank onto the flat missile deck of the sub, they were greeted by the XO.

  “Uncle Charley!” Caroline yelled out, as she embraced the Executive Officer.

  “Caroline, this ship belonged to your father, and now I’m giving it to you,” the XO whispered in her ear. “It’s your job to make sure he gets it back.”

  The XO saluted the Admiral and then shook his hands to secretly pass a folded piece of paper he’d been hiding.

  “Enjoy the tour of the sub,” the XO said aloud so that everyone in the area could hear. “I’ve got a debriefing to attend so I won’t be able to join you.” With that, the XO crossed the gangplank and walked into the crowd of people on the pier.

  The Petty Officer of the Watch gave a sharp salute to the famous retired Admiral and proceeded to assist the group through the hatch. The sub was a ghost town. Once everyone was safely below, they were greeted by the Chief of the Boat.

  “Welcome aboard the Alaska, everyone,” the Chief proclaimed. “The Skipper informed me that this tour might run a little longer than usual. Excuse me while I climb up and secure the hatch above you. We wouldn’t want anyone to drop in unexpectedly.”

  The Chief slammed the missile deck hatch shut and spun the wheel to seal and lock it. Upon climbing back down, he picked up a sound-powered phone.

  “Control, this is the Chief of the Boat,” he spoke. “Secure all hatches.”

  “Secure all hatches, Control, Chief of the Boat, aye,” a voice replied.

  With that, hatches on the sub’s hull and sail were closed and locked so that no one from the outside could enter the giant steel cylinder.

  Annie jumped at the sound of the hatches slamming shut. “I feel trapped!”

  “I’m feeling claustrophobic,” Mike chimed-in.

  “Admiral, the crew of the Alaska awaits your orders,” the Chief announced, as he stood at attention before Admiral Connery.

  “Thank you, Chief,” replied the Admiral. “I wasn’t actually sure how this was going to play out.”

  “You’re among friends,” the Chief of the Boat said to the Admiral and kids. “The XO hand-picked those of us who would remain aboard once we docked. We are loyal to him, and your dads are like brothers to us. While the officers and men on the pier would be sympathetic to your plight, they don’t know anything about this and therefore have plausible deniability. I guess the XO wanted to make sure that only a few of us end up serving jail time in Leavenworth. Since I don’t have a full section of men onboard, you kids will have to help out with some of the watch stations.”

  “I’m officially a junior Fire Control technician,” Nick interrupted the Chief’s speech. “I can plot solutions and fire torpedoes.”

  “Yeah, and Chrissie and I can drive this thing anywhere you want to go.” Annie motioned her han
ds in the air like she was turning a steering wheel.

  “The kids received training on diving and driving the ship this morning at TriTraFac, so they should be more of a help than a hindrance,” the Admiral remarked.

  “That’s great news,” the Chief replied. “We have a working nuclear reactor, a full complement of Mark 48 torpedoes, 24 Trident II D5 missiles, plenty of air and water, and enough food to last us a few weeks. Let’s move forward to Control so we can get underway. It won’t be long before somebody topside starts to get suspicious.”

  As the group moved forward through the passageways, Mike pulled out Wi-Fi access points from his backpack and plugged them in every so often in order to stitch together a wireless network for the kids.

  “Are we really going to need this stuff?” Caroline asked as she watched Mike geek-out.

  Upon reaching the Control room, the Admiral greeted the other crewmembers and then grabbed the 1MC microphone next to the periscope.

  “Station the Maneuvering Watch,” the Admiral ordered over the 1MC.

  The children ran to the stations on which they’d trained earlier in the day and the Admiral sat in the Officer of the Deck’s chair.

  “Helm, ahead one-third,” commanded the Admiral.

  “Ahead one-third helm, aye,” Annie replied, as she twisted the engine order telegraph to the 1/3 position with a ring of the bell.

  Back in Maneuvering, a bell rang and an indicator displayed “Ahead 1/3.” Luckily, the ship’s engineer, the Eng as he’s called, had decided to put his own naval career in jeopardy and was onboard so he could spin the large wheel one full rotation to the right. With that, the reactor’s steam drove the turbine which caused the giant propeller at the back of the sub to rotate.

  “Rudder amidships.” The Admiral barked out his next order to Annie.

  “What does that mean?” Annie asked frantically.

  “It means steer us straight,” replied Admiral Connery.

  Topside on the pier, a Marine was tripped by a rope connected to the submarine as it moved forward along the dock. The large crowd of crewmembers and loved ones who hadn’t gone home yet noticed this and began to ask each other if this was planned or not. Some started following the sub down the pier and a few others made phone calls to squadron personnel.