SSN

by Tom Clancy

  Cheyenne, too, had lost most of her contacts. Due to the range, she had lost all but tonal contact on the towed array when the Chinese slowed. Which was just what Mack had intended. The Alfa class SSN had no towed array, so they couldn’t gain tonal contact on the extremely quiet Cheyenne.

  It was now a waiting game, and Mack knew the game was rigged. The smart thing would have been for the Alfas to slow and attempt to reacquire Cheyenne, but they didn’t have that choice. Under their new rules of engagement, Mack knew that they would continue to close on Cheyenne’s last datum… which would bring them right into Mk 48 ADCAP range.

  The three Alfas were approaching within range, running at fifty meters’ depth, abreast of one another and only four thousand yards apart. Mack waited awhile longer. He had six torpedoes planned for them, and he could afford to wait.

  Cheyenne fired tubes one and two-first, at a range of 25,000 yards, with both torpedoes initially running in slow speed. At 18,000 yards, Mack ordered tubes three and four fired, with the torpedoes initially running in medium speed. At 10,000 yards, Cheyenne launched two more torpedoes from the reloaded tubes one and two after cutting the guidance wires to the first two from these tubes, which had still been communicating their search data, on track for intercept. These last torpedoes, the second set from tubes one and two, started their journey at high speed. The result of this salvo was that all six would arrive within their acquisition cone ranges at slightly staggered intervals, and with full depth and azimuthal coverage.

  Sonar reported the first two torpedoes increasing speed, signifying acquisition. Minutes later, three of the other four acquired targets, passing the good news over their guidance wires.

  On board the Alfas, the Chinese were dumbfounded as the ocean in front of them turned from silence into the nerve-racking, high-frequency pinging of attacking torpedoes. Even their prearranged depth excursions and course changes to prevent their own mutual interference were to no avail.

  The oncoming torpedoes had passed through both thermal layers and were already locked on, refusing to be fooled by the myriad of noisemakers launched by the fleeing Chinese SSNs. The circuitry of the ADCAP torpedoes allowed them to “see through” the noisemaker jamming, and to remain locked on their intended targets.

  It was over within minutes. All three Alfas had been damaged severely, forcing them to emergency-blow to the surface. Two of them never made it. In those two, seawater leaking through the broken engine room piping caused such an up angle that water filled the steam piping. With the turbine generators damaged by the water from the steam generator, their reactors lost power and shut down.

  The two dead Alfas sank stern first to the bottom, more than 12,000 feet below.

  Cheyenne returned to periscope depth to report the successful Tomahawk launch and the attack on the Chinese Alfas. Although it seemed like forever, less than two hours had passed since their launch. The missiles were still flying in single file, having completed the final DSMAC updates shortly before, and were now relying on GPS updates during the overwater ingress to the airfields.

  Cheyenne and her crew would have to wait for the bomb damage assessment (BDA) to learn the results of the attacks — and they might have to wait a long time. If the rainsqualls precluded the satellite imagery for a number of days, the BDA would not be able to be sent to them via message traffic during the four-day patrol in their third patrol area. If that happened, they would have to wait for their return to alongside McKee.

  Cheyenne’s SSIXS traffic was receipted for, so Captain Mackey directed the ship below the layer for the short transit to the third patrol area. Located to the northeast of the shoal areas and southwest of Subic Bay, this had been a refit site for U.S. and allied non-nuclear submarines until 1992. This patrol was designed to ensure that Chinese submarines would not try to interdict the arrival of the floating drydock, Arco.

  After its rest stop in Yokosuka following the long open ocean tow, Arco would be towed southward, west of the Philippines, to meet up with McKee. Its course would be through the Sulu Sea, away from possible Chinese submarines, which were still swarming in and around the Spratlys.

  During the few sane moments aboard Cheyenne, afforded by wardroom meals between battle stations, one of the topics of interest among the crew had been the newly instituted political talks between the United States and the Philippines. As one of the original claimants to the contested Spratly Islands, the Philippine government was now showing their appreciation for the submarine war being waged by Cheyenne. They had earlier agreed, in a secret Navy summit at CINCPACFLT’s headquarters in Makalapa, to the Tomahawk missile flights over Palawan. Not that it would have made any difference, since the missiles would have been programmed to overfly Palawan anyway. Nevertheless, not having to deal with interfering Philippine aircraft ensured there would not be any international bickering over the flight path.

  The crystal-balling by some of the Cheyenne junior officers included bets that the Philippines would offer to reopen Subic Bay, at least for the duration of the war against China’s submarines and encroaching warships and aircraft. If the price were right — for free — then the United States might even agree.

  Mack listened to his officers with interest. He knew that putting Arco in Subic Bay would provide a nuclear repair capability closer to Cheyenne’s current patrol area. Of course, if they did that, then they would be farther away from Cheyenne’s next war patrol assignment and her patrol areas south of the Spratlys.

  Mack grinned to himself and shrugged. Pay now or pay later, he thought. In the end, though, it didn’t really matter. Arco or no Arco, SEALs or no SEALs, Cheyenne would go where she was ordered and carry out the orders she was given.

  9. The Fourth Patrol: From Russia with Love

  The third patrol area was quiet. Cheyenne detected no submarines during her short duration patrol. Which was good, Mack thought. It gave his officers and crew the opportunity to catch up on their paperwork. More important, the respite allowed the newest crew members to finally complete their submarine qualification check-outs with the designated subsystem experts.

  Before reaching that stage, each enlisted man had to complete certain at sea and in port watch-stander qualifications required by his department — engineering, weapons, or operations. Qualification boards for the enlisted were held in the “goat locker,” the chief petty officer (CPO) lounge, mess area, and bunk room, all rolled into one small, but cozy space.

  These qualification boards were run by several of Cheyenne’s senior personnel. The top two were the chief of the boat (COB), who was also the master chief petty officer of the command, and Cheyenne’s qualification officer, the combat systems officer. The qualification officer was responsible to the executive officer, in the executive officer’s role as the ship’s training officer, for ensuring the timely submarine qualification of each and every enlisted man. The rest of the qualification boards were made up of selected qualification petty officers, the designated subsystem experts, and the individual candidate’s leading petty officer and division officer.

  Once this board made its recommendation to the executive officer, Mack was always quick to hold a ceremony in the crew’s mess. He enjoyed pinning the coveted silver dolphins on each sailor’s uniform, conferring the right for the crewman to add “SS” to his official title.

  Officer qualification in submarines included qualification as engineering officer of the watch (EOOW) and officer of the deck, as well as the in port engineering duty officer (EDO) and ship’s duty officer responsibilities. These required the captain’s certification, as did other senior enlisted watch stations.

  Other officer qualifications included candidates for engineer officer of a nuclear-powered ship. Completion of this was generally put on hold during wars because the candidate officer was unable to return to Washington, D.C., to be interviewed by the head of Navy Nuclear Propulsion, NAVSEA 08.

  For the officers, the same qualification petty officers checked out the candidates, as did
the responsible department heads. Once the senior watch officer and the navigator, who was Cheyenne’s third senior officer, made their recommendation to the executive officer and captain, a qualification board was held in the wardroom.

  The reward for these officer qualifications were the much rarer and even more coveted gold dolphins, which designated the officer as “submarine warfare qualified.” After Cheyenne’s most recent war patrols, Mack felt that all her hands had earned this designation, and he was pleased that they had gotten the chance to catch up on this.

  In addition to catching up on paperwork and officer qualifications, the respite also gave Mack the chance to have his junior officers practice their surfacing and diving of the submarine. But Mack didn’t let that go too far. This was war, after all, and there was always the chance that some of those pesky Chinese Kilo SSKs were lurking about, so he instructed his junior officers to only simulate blowing the main ballast tanks. That restriction kept Cheyenne safe, and it didn’t affect the quality of their practice at all.

  Mack wasn’t worried about their knowledge. He knew that they had learned, at least on a theoretical level, how to handle the boat. All the officers on Cheyenne were nuclear trained — training which had required all officers to complete Nuclear Power School in Orlando, Florida, along with training at one of the reactor prototypes, either in West Milton, New York; Arco, Idaho; or Windsor, Connecticut. This training had taken a year to complete, and it was so intense that they’d had to memorize volumes of information that, when stacked on top of each other, easily reached over six feet high. And it didn’t end there. It was followed by a stint at the Naval Submarine School in Groton, Connecticut.

  This was all before they ever got to their first submarine. Once on board, they had new reactor and propulsion plant manuals to study, supplemented by ship’s information books, weapons manuals, and at least twenty more documents related to operations against what was now the enemy.

  After all this, Mack wasn’t worried about what they knew, but they needed practice and experience to go with all that book knowledge. It was the procedural steps and the feel of the ship under their feet that the JOODs needed to learn well enough so that they could surface and dive the ship in their sleep. And even more important, they needed to learn how to think on their feet, in case the unusual were to happen, which might not be covered in books.

  Cheyenne’s junior officers weren’t the only ones boning up for qualification boards, either. Her executive officer was shooting for the “qualified for command” designation — but he didn’t know that Mack had recommended him to CTF 74 prior to their last underway. His first hint that he’d better ready himself for the qual-for-command board was a message stating that their commodore, Commander Submarine Squadron Eleven (CSS 11) in San Diego, would be on board Arco, the floating repair dock, medium (ARDM-5).

  Upon receiving that message, the executive officer initially expected that the board would consist of CTF 74, his CSS 11 commodore, and the captain of McKee. That expectation changed, however, when Cheyenne received an operations directive routing them to Subic Bay instead of the safe anchorage off Brunei, where they had originally expected McKee and Arco to be located. Based on the rest of the message traffic, the executive officer wasn’t sure there would be time for his qual board.

  Message traffic indicated that IUSS (Integrated Undersea Surveillance System) had sniffs of a number of the newest operational class of Russian SSNs, the Akula II, heading south from the Sea of Okhotsk area toward the South China Sea — and the numbers did not match naval intelligence’s initial expectations. Satellite imagery of Vladivostok showed three submarines missing, and data from Petropavlosk added another missing sub, for a total of four, but IUSS was picking up seven different Akula class SSNs.

  New data, however, showed three more missing from the Russian base in the Kola Peninsula. Naval intelligence had been concentrating on the Pacific theater and had missed the departure of the North Fleet Akula II SSNs the week before. These Akulas had completed an under-ice transfer through the Bering Straits before they were detected in the Bering Sea, and had rendezvoused with the PACFLT Akulas east of the Kurile Islands.

  According to the message traffic, Arco was being diverted to Subic Bay for safety. Had she stuck to her original orders, she would have made a long transit at sea protected only by Cheyenne, and the risk of being overwhelmed by the sheer number of Akulas was simply too great.

  On a similar note, in order to avoid a repeat of the Chinese Kilo SSK attacks on McKee that Cheyenne had fought off after returning from the first patrol, the submarine tender was now en route to the safety of Subic Bay via the Philippine Sea. She was scheduled to arrive the day before Cheyenne.

  Sino-Soviet trade relations were obviously booming, Captain Mackey realized as he read the message traffic. The Russian president, Gennadi Zyuganov, was allowing his navy to supply the Chinese with the Akula IIs. That was bad enough. Worse, though, was the fact that these sales were being consummated so quickly that China could not crew the SSNs, and Russia had wholeheartedly agreed to supply Russian “observers.” These observers had turned out to be nearly the entire crew. The only real exceptions were some Chinese interpreters for their Chinese message traffic.

  The Russian president had, of course, initially denied these sales at all. Then, when the crewing reports surfaced through the CIA, he tried to use the “observer” gambit. The United States had recognized this for what it was — a feeble attempt for Russia to avoid its own war with the United States — and Mack couldn’t help wondering how his own government would respond to this.

  But for now, at least, he didn’t have to worry about it. All he had to do was to carry out his orders and to execute the missions he was tasked with.

  * * *

  Several days later, as Cheyenne “steamed” past Grande Island inbound to the Subic Bay complex, Mack was saddened at the sight of the once-proud base. The buildings and guest cottages were run down and dilapidated, and even the swimming pool was empty and cracking.

  It was clear that nothing had been done to take care of the Grande Island after the departure of the United States five years before. Mack expected that the same would be true of the airfield at what was once the Cubi Point Naval Air Station. That airfield had once been busy bringing in supplies as well as being the launch and recovery field for carrier-based aircraft leaving and returning to Subic Bay.

  When Cheyenne rounded the point of the airfield and headed for the gaping jaws of the now-flooded-down Arco, Mack saw how right his guess had been. At the sight of jungle growth overrunning the Cubi Point Officers’ Club, Mack felt a wave of nostalgia and regret wash over him, and he was glad that Cheyenne had only two days in the Philippines to reload and resupply.

  Since the refit crew was on board McKee, which was still in transit to Subic Bay, Mack and the executive officer had informed Cheyenne’s crew that they would remain on board, for sleeping and security purposes, until the tender arrived. Seeing the devastation that had occurred since the United States left the Philippines, Mack could see that he had made a wise decision. The CPO and enlisted barracks, as well as the Submarine Sanctuary (where the officers used to partake of rest and recreation), had been looted and destroyed by vandals.

  Captain Mackey had also informed the engineer officer and auxiliary division officer — who also was the SUBSAFE (submarine safety) officer — that Cheyenne would take the opportunity to complete some of the SUBSAFE maintenance requirement card (MRC) inspections. With the ongoing war against the Chinese, these inspections, which could only be completed while in drydock, were in danger of becoming overdue. Taking care of it now, with the drydock capabilities that Arco offered, would ensure that Cheyenne’s SUBSAFE certification remained in force and they would have no restrictions in depth during upcoming operations.

  Maintaining certification during a war was not just a perfunctory administrative paper drill. It was extremely important. The certification meant that the home which prote
cted the men of Cheyenne from the perils of the sea was satisfactory for keeping water out of the “people locker.”

  The SUBSAFE criteria, which began in Cheyenne’s new construction period and continued for the life of the ship, included the capability of various important components to withstand underwater explosive shock without endangering the lives of the crew. Integrity of these components was paramount if the crew was to survive the rigors of enemy attacks and reach the surface safely.

  Mack planned to avoid that situation, of course, but with the reports of seven Akula II SSNs en route to the South China Sea, he knew Cheyenne would have her work cut out for her. And so did her well-informed crew, who set about their inspection duties as soon as the drydock was pumped down.

  The late arrival of McKee meant that Cheyenne would have only one day to reload the vertical-launch tubes with Tomahawk missiles and the torpedo room with Mk 48s. Arco had no capability to reload SSN weapons, other than small-arms ammunition. So far, Cheyenne had not had to resort to that limited method of warfare, and Mack didn’t intend to need them in the near future, either.

  Arco, like all the floating drydocks in the fleet, did not have a formal commanding officer. Drydocks, which were not commissioned as United States ships and so did not receive the “USS” designation, had officers-in-charge instead.

  In talking with Arco’s officer-in-charge, Mack learned that Arco had managed to off-load some Navy Construction Battalion equipment and a small contingent of Seabees at a pleasure boat launch ramp near the Cubi airfields. That would have been very good news if they were on a longer timetable. As it was, repair of the runways would probably be too late for Cheyenne to count on any air support in her upcoming missions. Besides, Mack thought, deciding to forget about having to coordinate operations with aircraft, even if the Seabees got the runways repaired, it wouldn’t do much good. The supporting infrastructure that had once been at the airfield, as well as the air-traffic controllers and radars, had been spread to other airfields around the world.