by Larry Bond
“The North Dakota?” Jain replied cautiously. He remembered the letter that Samant had received from the American right after the Sino–Littoral Alliance War asking for a draw. His old captain was initially furious, but then, after he had calmed down, took the letter as a sign of respect. Regardless, the man had bested Samant twice, and this sent shivers down Jain’s spine. Given the complete surprise of the ambush, and the tactical skills needed to pull that off, Jain could come to no other conclusion. “I’m afraid our nemesis has returned. We won’t be able to run away from this fellow, Number One.”
“You’re not seriously thinking of engaging a frontline fourth-generation American attack submarine, are you?” whined Kirichenko. “That’s sheer madness!”
“Shut up!” fired Jain. “I don’t recall asking for your opinion, Mister Kirichenko! One more word out of you and I’ll have you confined to your quarters!” Pivoting back to his first officer, Jain belted out a rapid series of orders.
“Number One, deploy countermeasures! Bring tubes four and five to action state. Launch decoy, course zero five zero! Helmsman, left twenty-five, steer north! Half ahead, one hundred five revs!”
USS North Dakota
* * *
“Possible target zig, Sierra eight seven,” said the sonar supervisor. And then almost immediately: “Countermeasures! Bearing one nine three!”
“Damn it!” snarled Jerry. “Snapshot, Sierra eight seven, tube four!”
“Solution ready,” Thigpen called out.
“Weapon ready,” followed the weapons officer.
“Ship ready,” Lymburn exclaimed.
“Shoot!” barked the fire control technician as he hit the button, followed by, “Normal launch. Torpedo course one eight five, speed five five knots!”
“Pilot, left full rudder. Steady course zero six zero,” Jerry commanded.
“Skipper, we’ll lose…” warned Thigpen.
“Understood!” Jerry shot back forcefully. He was well aware that a turn at this speed would almost certainly break the wire with the torpedo.
Sure enough, seconds later Thigpen reported, “Loss of wire continuity.”
“Close the outer door on tube four. Make tube three ready in all respects,” instructed Jerry.
“Captain!” yelled Halleck. “There are two contacts emerging from the countermeasures. One bears two zero seven, the other one nine seven. They look identical!”
Jerry quickly leaned over the supervisor’s shoulder and looked at the two contacts. Their narrowband profiles were indistinguishable, acoustic twins. Checking their speed, he saw that both contacts were at fifteen knots; there was no clear way to tell Chakra from the decoy she’d just launched. Surprised, Jerry turned to Samant and Petrov, who’d joined him at the sonar displays. Both men examined the side-by-side display of the two signatures. Neither one could tell them apart.
“It’s a perfect replicate,” said Samant, astonished.
“Looks like a later-model decoy, either an MG-104 or MG-114,” concluded Petrov. Turning to Samant, he remarked, “I didn’t know we had sold these to the Indian Navy.”
“I had two during the war. Never got a chance to use one, though. The signature simulation is simply amazing!”
“Senior Chief,” interrupted Jerry. “Make sure you’re recording the data. We’ll examine it more closely later.”
“Skipper,” called Thigpen. “Own ship’s unit has enabled. Slowing to forty knots. It’s searching.”
INS Chakra
* * *
“Incoming torpedo has gone active!” squawked the intercom. Chief Petty Officer Patil’s voice was strained. The acoustic intercept receiver echoed the dire report.
“Bearing drift!?” demanded Jain.
“Nearly zero!” Patil yelled.
“Number One, deploy countermeasures!” Jain then counted to ten and barked out more orders. “Helmsman, starboard twenty, steer zero four zero, full ahead. Sonar stand by to go active on the main hull array.”
* * *
Two more cylinders popped out from Chakra’s hull, and as soon as the seawater-activated batteries were brought up to power, the devices began shrieking like banshees. The Mark 48 torpedo had initially been in a quandary. It had two valid targets, one to the left, and the other to the right. Which one to home in on? Suddenly, the right-hand target disappeared behind a wall of sound. Seeing only one valid target, the torpedo veered left and began range gating, homing in on the decoy.
USS North Dakota
* * *
“More countermeasures, Skipper. Sierra eight seven is the contact to the left, bearing two one zero,” announced the sonar supervisor.
Jerry looked down at the command display and then up at the starboard VLSD; the countermeasure symbol was blinking near Chakra’s last reported position. He also saw the torpedo begin tacking to the left, toward the decoy. They’d missed again.
“This is starting to get old,” he grumbled. The hull array was completely blinded by the noise from the acoustic jammers, but the towed array still had a tenuous lock. The jammer didn’t have a lot of power at the lower frequencies. He’d just switched back to the narrowband display on the command workstation when Senior Chief Halleck shouted out, “Possible target zig, Sierra eight seven. Contact has turned toward us and is increasing speed.”
Jerry wasn’t quite as fast as his leading sonarman, and it took him a few more seconds to verify that Chakra had indeed maneuvered again. Still, Jain’s maneuvers showed he wasn’t confident about his estimates of North Dakota’s position. That meant Jerry still held the advantage. An advantage he intended to exploit. “XO, get me a new firing solution, pronto!”
“Aye, aye, sir,” replied Thigpen, watching one of the displays. It was clear the Indian Akula was changing course and speed. That she was turning toward them was beyond question, but what would her final course and speed be? Recalling Jerry’s admonition, he gave the operator an initial “best guesstimate” for the computer to chew on. “Put in course zero five zero, speed thirty-three knots and see if the machine barfs.”
After a minute of data, it was apparent that the solution was off. With a few adjustments for a more northerly course, and a slightly higher speed the TMA solution seemed to hang together. The contact was closing; the range was down to about seven thousand yards.
“Skipper, I have an initial firing solution. It’s up on the starboard VLSD,” said Thigpen.
In looking at the fruits of Thigpen’s labors, Jerry became more and more perplexed. Chakra was pointed, more or less, in the right direction and was ramping up to high speed. “What is he doing?” whispered Jerry. Then, looking at Samant, he added, “He’s going too fast, and we’re in the towed array’s forward end fire beam. He won’t be able to track us at all!”
Samant shook his head. Jain was either impatient or afraid; he was trying to force the issue. “He’s attempting to charge into a position so he can use his active sonar to get a good solution. He doesn’t feel confident firing on the sparse towed-array data.”
“But in this water, a Skat-3 sonar will sound like a kettledrum in an empty closet. The reverberation will be horrendous,” Jerry observed.
“Agreed, Captain, but if he can get close enough, it could still work.”
Jerry pulled up the line-of-sight diagram and looked at the range rate. Chakra was closing, but slowly, about 330 yards every minute. Facing Samant, he pointed to the diagram and said, “Jain’s guessing. He’s not sure where we are.”
“I concur, Captain. I believe he’s trying to run down the bearing from your last torpedo, but I don’t think he’s factored in the effects of the decoy on the torpedo’s course—his estimate will be off.” Samant looked pained as he spoke; then he began to fidget. It looked like he was mentally arguing with himself. Finally, he just spit the words out. “Captain, I request that you transmit the recording I made.”
Astonished by the appeal, Jerry looked Samant straight in the eyes. “Captain, we’ve exchanged weapons
fire. Do you seriously believe he’ll respond positively to your message? Assuming of course he can even hear it.”
“Honestly, I do not know. But it’s something we haven’t tried yet. You have his complete and undivided attention, and a little time before you have to shoot another weapon. I’m just asking that you try.” Samant’s face and voice were strained with emotion. He desperately wanted to try anything that could save his crew. Glancing over at Petrov, Jerry saw him nod in agreement.
Rubbing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Jerry weighed Samant’s plea. He was right, they had a little time, but it also meant transmitting—putting a string of strong acoustic pulses into the water. But even if the Indian crew couldn’t understand what was being said, they’d sure as hell get a good bearing. Jerry would be voluntarily giving up his advantage. Sighing loudly, he turned his head toward the sonar watchstanders and said, “Senior Chief, transmit Captain Samant’s message over the main active array. Point it directly at Chakra.”
The sonar supervisor initially balked as he struggled to comprehend the order. But a quick look at his CO’s face removed any doubt. “Aye, aye, sir. Transmit Captain Samant’s message.” Halleck’s fingers worked hesitantly over the keyboard, and after a brief moment, he hit the last one and reported, “Transmitting.”
Jerry saw Thigpen’s disbelieving expression and raised his hand, signaling his XO to wait. Thigpen turned back toward the fire control consoles, whispering softly, “This will get interesting.”
INS Chakra
* * *
“Central post. I’m picking up what sounds like a UWC transmission, bearing red zero one zero. It’s in the direction of the American submarine,” Patil declared, not quite convinced that he had heard correctly.
Jain and Rakash looked at each other with utter bewilderment. Why would the American be trying to contact them? He’d already fired three torpedoes at them, what purpose could there be in attempting to communicate? Before Jain could respond, Patil’s voice came over the intercom again.
“Central post. The transmission is in Hindi!”
Now Jain was really curious. He acknowledged the bizarre report and then went to the sonar shack; he had to hear this transmission for himself.
Patil was waiting with a set of headphones in his right hand. “It appears to be a recorded message, sir, as it is being repeated.”
Jain put on the headphones and listened. The reception was extremely poor, owing to Chakra’s high speed and the shallow water, but the voice was most definitely speaking in Hindi. He couldn’t understand much of the transmission, it warbled and broke up often, but he did make out the words “Dhankhar,” “illegal,” and “return.” The voice also sounded strangely familiar, but the distortion made it difficult to pin down.
The Indian captain pulled the headset off and handed it back to the sonar chief. He struggled to understand the message and its meaning. Then Jain remembered Vice Admiral Dhankhar warning him that several foreign governments had discovered the plan. Could the United States be one of them? Were they trying to deceive him now, as they seemed unable to sink him? Then Jain recalled his orders; the attack on the Chinese ports was the first act in an elaborate strategy by the Indian military to defeat Pakistan once and for all. Chakra’s pivotal role in the plan stiffened his resolve.
While Jain was trying to make heads or tails of the transmission, Patil hit him with an unthinkable question: “Sir, didn’t that voice sound like Captain Samant’s?”
Anger suddenly flooded Jain. The very thought of their former captain cooperating with India’s enemies was blasphemous. “Mind your bearing, Chief! I will not tolerate any insult of our old CO. Lash that bearing with the main hull array and get me something to shoot on!”
Still seething, Jain returned to central post. Rakash could see something was dreadfully wrong, but before he could even ask the speaker squawked again. “Central post, weak return bearing red zero zero six, range five thousand two hundred meters.”
“Stand by for torpedo attack. Open bow caps on tubes four and five,” thundered Jain. Rakash moved quickly to follow his captain’s orders.
Leaning over Lieutenant Kirit’s shoulders, Jain blurted, “We’ll bracket the bearing! Set tube four to course zero two five, and tube five to zero four zero! High speed, minimal enable run!”
“Bow caps on tubes four and five are open, sir,” cried Rakash.
“Torpedo course set,” Kirit called out.
Jain stood with an unwavering air, paused for a few seconds, and then shouted, “Fire!”
USS North Dakota
* * *
The WLY-1 acoustic intercept receiver’s chirping beat Senior Chief Halleck’s warning by a second or two. “Sierra eight seven has gone active. Skat-3 transmissions bearing two one five.”
“Secure transmissions,” Jerry ordered. Then, looking at Samant, he said, “I’m sorry, Captain. Jain’s made his choice.” The Indian’s face was burdened with pain, his only response a slight nod.
“Torpedoes in the water!” yelled Halleck. “Same bearing as Sierra eight seven!”
“Execute starburst maneuver to starboard,” snapped Jerry.
“Starburst to starboard, aye, sir,” Thigpen responded. “Countermeasure station, deploy starburst pattern!”
As soon as countermeasure symbols started popping up on the starboard VLSD, Jerry commanded, “Pilot, right full rudder, steady course one three zero!”
* * *
The countermeasure pods near North Dakota’s stern launched two stationary sonar jammers just before she started to turn. Now, two mobile jammers were kicked out, heading away from the submarine on reciprocal courses, building a wall of intense sound—essentially a barrier, opaque to any acoustic sensor. Finally, a mobile decoy was deployed and it continued down the course North Dakota had just turned away from—a maneuver that had been completely hidden from the onrushing Chakra.
INS Chakra
* * *
“Central post, contact has deployed countermeasures, I’ve lost contact,” shouted Patil.
Jain had expected as much. The commander of North Dakota had demonstrated that he was no fool. “What was the last good bearing and range?” he demanded.
“Bearing red zero zero five, range, four thousand eight hundred meters. He was still on course zero six zero at last contact.”
Looking at the Omnibus display, Jain saw that the American was running away from the countermeasure barrier. Excellent, he thought proudly. The salvo should catch him. “Steady on course!” he cried out, smiling.
USS North Dakota
* * *
Two minutes after making the run, Jerry deployed another stationary ADC Mark 5 countermeasure. Between this new addition and the mobile jammer, there was another wall of sound hiding North Dakota from the oncoming UGST torpedoes. The only legitimate target in their field of view would be the mobile decoy that was now running away from the scene at twenty knots.
“Skipper, one of the torpedoes has begun range gating! It’s past CPA and opening, it’s locked on to the decoy!” said Halleck with noticeable relief.
“Gotcha,” Jerry whispered, followed immediately by, “Firing point procedures, Sierra eight seven…”
“Wait, Captain!” howled Samant.
Jerry turned, taken aback by the Indian’s sudden interruption. He looked at the man’s face and saw the tears welling in his eyes.
“Please, Captain, Jerry, allow me to issue the order to fire,” choked Samant. Both Jerry and Petrov looked at him with amazement.
“I appreciate the offer, Captain,” replied Jerry. “But you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you gave the order.”
Samant gave a cynical chuckle, then responded, “I won’t be able to live with myself now as it is, Jerry. But if my crew has to die, then I prefer it be at my hands. An Indian started this nightmare, it’s only proper that an Indian end it.”
Jerry paused, considering Samant’s emotional appeal, then nodded. Turning forward, h
e announced loudly, “Attention in control, Captain Girish Samant has the conn, Lieutenant Lymburn retains the deck.”
All the stations acknowledged Jerry’s pronouncement and then watched as Samant stepped over to the fire control consoles.
“Which control launches the torpedo?” he asked the fire control technician quietly.
The petty officer looked toward his XO. Thigpen gave a curt nod signaling it was okay. “This one, sir,” answered the young sailor.
Straightening himself, Samant gave the order. His voice was firm and professional. “Stand by torpedo attack, target, INS Chakra, tube three.” Reaching over, he pushed the button and thundered, “Fire!”
“Normal launch, torpedo course, two seven zero, speed four zero knots,” reported the petty officer. He was looking at Samant when he spoke.
* * *
The torpedo ran straight out from tube number three to clear itself and the guidance wire from the submarine. It then began a wide turn to the right, its movement screened by the mobile sonar jammer. By the time it had passed in front of the countermeasure field it had already gone active. And once it was past the intense sound barrier, its seeker was pointed straight at Chakra, barely fifteen hundred yards away. The torpedo locked on and began accelerating.
INS Chakra
* * *
“Torpedo alert! Starboard side!” screeched Patil.
Jain’s head spun as he looked at the Omnibus display. The incoming weapon was very close. “Deploy countermeasures!” he screamed.
It was too late. Before the countermeasures were ejected from the Akula, the Mark 48 torpedo’s warhead detonated, devastating compartment three and violating the bulkhead with compartment two. The submarine heeled sharply over to port and pitched downward. At thirty-four knots she slammed into the shallow bottom with tremendous force, crushing some of the torpedo tubes and the weapons loading hatch. Water began gushing into the torpedo room.