by James Rosone
“Officer of the Deck, set course to one-seven-zero, make your depth three hundred and fifty feet. Rig ship for quiet running.” Lee straightened his shirt as he looked intently at his OOD.
“Setting my course to one-seven-zero, making my depth three hundred and fifty feet, rig for quiet, aye,” repeated the OOD, setting the Conn about executing the captain’s new orders.
Lee motioned for his executive officer to approach. As Commander Wu drew close, he could tell the man already knew what he was thinking—the war had started, and it was time to hunt. This pleased Lee considerably as he was anxious to strike back at the Americans.
Lee and his crew now had permission to rain hell upon any American vessel they came across because the Americans had drawn first blood. Lee grinned slyly, excited about the opportunity to demonstrate to the world the power of the Chinese Navy.
When they rose to periscope depth, they received the latest satellite imagery downloads from DragonLink. Satellite images showed the Carl Vinson and Theodore Roosevelt strike groups remained in a holding pattern around Guam and Saipan. The Chinese Navy had forced the Americans to position two of their carriers in the area by deceiving them into thinking the Chinese Navy would invade the islands.
Lee examined the map; he still wanted to go after that American boomer they’d let go. He saw the last known positions of the sub and the current position of a squadron of ASW ships.
There has to be a way to work them into the equation, Lee thought. Sinking a boomer would be a huge morale boost for China and a real blow to the Americans.
The other piece of intelligence they’d received in their data dump was an analysis from Jade Dragon’s acoustic signature library, a priceless collection acquired over decades. The acoustic signature let them know the boomer they were after was the USS Maine. The dossier also included the file on the commander and as much information as they had on him and the crew.
Lee tried to look up the commander of the Texas. Unfortunately, China’s intelligence on him was minimal. What little they did know of him suggested that his superiors thought him an extremely aggressive and capable ship commander.
He returned his attention to the Maine, the boomer he had to let go earlier, and a plan began to form.
Looking at the digital map, Lee saw the Navy had a small squadron of ASW ships he might be able to task. Prior to the start of the war, the Navy had grouped small groups of frigates and corvettes together in the East and South China Sea to carry out ASW missions against any possible American incursions. These little squadrons of ASW ships would hopefully finish off the American sub force the merchant raiders were unable to hit in the ports.
Having formulated his plan of attack, Lee had his sub rise to periscope level one more time. He transmitted a burst message to the Sanya, a state-of-the-art frigate, to begin coordinating the hunt of this American submarine.
The Sanya was a Type 054A advanced frigate. She was an exceptional ASW platform that could also engage surface ships if needed. The Sanya was the squadron commander for a group of two other Jiangdao corvettes, the Luzhou and the Weihai. They were the new Type 056 corvettes specifically designed for hunting down enemy subs. To round out the squadron, three Type 037I Haiqing-class submarine chasers were added to the mix. They traveled around the perimeter of the squadron or would race out to investigate a possible sub contact.
Lee would use the Sanya to help him identify where that American boomer had gone. If they were lucky, they’d either sink it or lead him right to it.
Over the next half a day, the Sanya and her squadron hunted the Maine. They started dropping sonar buoys with the help of coastal ASW aircraft and their helicopters as they pursued the hunt. It wouldn’t be long before they found them. Then the fun would begin.
*******
Fourteen Hours Later
Captain Lee observed his sonar operator place his hands to his earphones and tilt his head. Lee rose from his captain’s chair and walked over to see what he had found. As he approached, the man turned.
“Conn, Sonar,” he announced. “Contact bearing one-one-zero, range twelve thousand yards. It’s passing through two of our buoys.” The young sonar operator was as visibly excited as Lee was inside.
“Conn, Sonar. Contact designated Sierra 1.”
“Sonar, Conn. Very well,” answered the Officer of the Deck.
“Conn, Sonar, Sierra 1 is an American SSBN, probability ninety-six percent it’s the USS Maine.”
“Sonar, Conn. Very well. Designate Sierra 1 Master 1,” replied Captain Lee with a slight smile. It was time to finish this hunt.
*******
250 Miles Northeast of Taiwan
USS Maine
The junior officer of the deck was tense. The whole Conn was tense. They had received data from one of their Orcas, the Bangor, that the sub they had identified as a Type 93 had disappeared. Either it hadn’t entered their engagement box or crossed the picket screen they established with their Orcas, or they’d simply lost track of her. This wasn’t a good sign considering they had lost contact with Pearl and nearly every other naval asset in the region over the last couple of days. Something was up—they just didn’t know what.
Captain Dale Redding saw one of the CPOs updating the master plot table with the latest information they had from the Orcas and their own towed sonar array. He got up and walked over to the master plot to see what kind of picture it was painting.
In addition to the possible enemy sub, they were now tracking a small squadron of Chinese surface ships that appeared to be headed toward the Senkaku Islands, a small cluster of islands currently in dispute between China and Japan.
Captain Redding figured this squadron of Chinese ships was looking for them. Not only were they starting to spread out in an obvious ASW formation, but sonar buoys appeared on the surface, which meant one thing—shore-based ASW support. His biggest concern right now was those ships getting in range of using their helicopters to hunt him. If they started using dipping sonar on him, he’d be in trouble. This would complicate their return to Pearl.
Despite what people thought about the Chinese systems, he knew if a dipper was dropped anywhere near them and an active sonic ping hit them, it’d light them up like Christmas. These weren’t passive buoys. A dipping sonar in the hands of a good operator could find even the stealthiest sub.
The more Redding looked at the plot table, the more he felt the Maine was being pushed or chased into a kill box. On the Taiwan side, the ASW aircraft were dropping buoys, which meant the Maine needed to stay away from there. On the Senkaku side, this squadron of corvettes and frigates was pinging away. The big question Redding had was where that Type 93 they had lost was. He needed information—he needed help dealing with the situation on the surface.
Captain Redding decided to try one more time to make contact with the fleet. He had the Maine come up to periscope depth and raise their communications masts. Within seconds, they received a deluge of information. They were told the country had moved from DEFCON 4 to DEFCON 2 and that a de facto state of war now existed between the US and China. They also received a new set of orders: return to their old station off the coast of Shanghai and wait.
Redding didn’t particularly care for these orders. After being on patrol now for nearly four months, they were starting to near the end of their stored rations. They had two months’ supply left, which included eating into their emergency canned foods. They could go back for maybe a month, but then they’d need to resupply in Japan.
“What do the new orders say?” asked Commander Tom “Johnnie” Walker as he leaned in so only the two of them could hear. He read over the situation report, so he knew the general situation. The crew didn’t, at least not yet. They’d have to inform them soon enough.
Commander Tom “Johnny” Walker was Captain Redding’s XO. He was an intense officer, even by submariner standards. But he was sharp, and not overly zealous, a good trait to have as a boomer captain as their mission was more strategic th
an tactical in nature.
The unfolding situation on the surface suddenly made a lot more sense. The Chinese Navy wasn’t just looking for them for training. They were actively hunting them. This made losing that Type 93 even more concerning. It meant it could be out there right now, stalking them, and they wouldn’t even know it.
“Our new orders say we’re to return to our old station and await further orders. There’s also the USS Stethem and Benfold somewhere above us. They’ll kind of stay along our path back to our patrol route as they head to Okinawa and link up with a larger task force being formed up. Other than we’re now in a state of war with China, nothing else,” Captain Redding said as he handed the orders to his XO.
“By the way, what are your thoughts on that sub suddenly disappearing on us a little while back?”
“Sir, it’s damned odd. We had her at no less than ten thousand yards. Then she just disappeared.” Walker rubbed the two-day stubble on his chin as if he was trying to remember something that was on the tip of his tongue.
Redding nodded his head in approval. “Agreed, XO. I’ve had sonar go over the tracks again and again. Even with the background clutter, she was there making ten knots, then she just faded away—not even so much as an echo. We really need those destroyers to stay out here with us and not head back to Okinawa. We need to keep this area buttoned up so more subs don’t slip out, but we also need to get on station. We aren’t a fast-attack, so we can’t be out here chasing down enemy subs like this.”
Neither of them said anything for a moment. Redding was deep in thought before he instructed the communications officer to send a VLF message to the fleet. He hoped to convince them to cancel the destroyer’s order and have them stay on station in this gap between Taiwan and the Senkaku island. Their ASW assets would be a great help in keeping this area clear of enemy subs.
Walker looked at the digital plot, then at Captain Redding.
“Sir, if you were the Chinese skipper, where would you be?” Walker watched the captain as he made some adjustments to the chart on the display.
“I’d go beneath the thermocline and try to get my towed array above it. Then I’d continue to look for us to slip past their surface ships somewhere around here.” Redding pointed.
*******
Type 95
Northeast of Taiwan
“Engineering, Conn. Status of the thruster?” Lee asked pensively. The rim-driven thruster was a shaftless rotor that was attached to a band inside the propulsion shroud. The RDT reduced noise and cavitation by magnitudes. It had fewer moving parts and took up significantly less space in engineering, and it increased engine efficiency by fifteen percent overall. It made the Changzheng the quietest nuclear-powered submarine in the world, and by extension, the deadliest weapon in the ocean.
“Conn, Engineering. Engine is running at peak efficiency. We are steady at twelve knots,” replied the chief engineer.
Lee could picture the man standing in the engine room, eyes closed, listening for the slightest imperfection in his engines.
“Very well,” Lee said as he replaced the receiver in its cradle.
In the last seven hours, they had managed to quietly place themselves within twenty thousand yards of the two Arleigh Burke–class destroyers. The two ships had been doing overlapping concentric circles as they made the transit back between the Senkaku Islands and Taiwan. They had been relentless in searching for the Changzheng. Had it not been for the fact that the submarine they were looking for didn’t exist, they would have put her on the bottom by now.
“Officer of the Deck, retract the towed array.”
“Retract the towed array, aye, sir.”
Lee circled the master plot and looked at his position relative to where he thought the Maine should be, then from where the destroyers most likely were, given their circling pattern. He pointed to a position on the plot and stared at it for several minutes. As he grew more certain of his attack plan, he felt his heartbeat increase.
“Sonar, distance to the destroyers, relative to the last known position of the Maine?”
The OOD replied, “Sir, the closest destroyer to Maine, relative to her last known position, is twelve thousand, five hundred yards from our current position. Second destroyer is eighteen thousand yards away.”
“Are they still circling?” Lee asked with a little more enthusiasm in his voice than he’d wanted.
“Yes, sir, their circling is roughly three thousand yards. In that circle they advance east, approximately fifteen hundred yards at each circle.”
“Are there any discernible patterns to their sprints eastward?” asked Lee as he tried to confirm something.
“Sir, other than the circles, there is no pattern discernible from sonar.”
Captain Lee paced the Conn, deep in thought as they pursued their quarry relentlessly. The time to strike was nearly at hand.
He called the Engineering officer to make one last check to make sure that the submarine would be ready. Once Engineering confirmed the Changzheng was ready for combat in all respects, Lee draped the phone over the cradle, looking briefly at it. It made him smile. It was an unconscious movement. Muscle memory, not wanting to place the phone back in its cradle, possibly creating a metallic transient for an enemy sonar to hear. From this moment on, they would be rigged for ultraquiet until they fired on the Americans.
“Helm, increase speed ahead full, five-degree up angle.”
“Increasing speed to ahead full, five-degree up angle, aye, sir.”
It was time to test the rim-driven thruster and see how close they could get to the Americans before he fired a salvo of the newest YU-9 torpedoes.
“Weapons officer, load all tubes, make weapons ready in all respects. Set tubes one and two to wake homing. Load tubes five and six with modified YJ-7s,” commanded Lee.
“Load all tubes, make weapons ready in all respects, set tubes one and two to wake homing and tubes five and six with modified YJ-7s, aye, sir,” confirmed the OOD.
Retrieving the phone, Captain Lee took a deep breath and made an announcement that officially took his men and his boat to war.
“Battle stations, torpedo.”
*******
USS Stethem
East of Taiwan
Commander Tim Wade stood on the flight deck as the SH-60 was on final approach to touch down. He had kept his antisubmarine warfare helos aloft for the last ten hours. Wade, along with the USS Benfold, had been tasked to perform a screen as the Maine slipped back into the East China Sea and retake up their position off the coast.
He had been told that the USS Maine was on patrol in their vicinity and that she had been tracking a Chinese Type 93. Just prior to the USS Texas officially starting the war in the Pacific, a Type 93 had apparently vanished.
Wade had flown to the Benfold and had a face-to-face with her skipper. Commander Lisa Bell had been a classmate of his at the Academy, and he regarded her as a damn fine officer. She was a hell of a ship driver and had a keen tactical mind. Together they came up with a plan to make sure no additional Chinese submarines escaped into the Pacific northeast of Taiwan and Okinawa. It was likely that a squadron of corvettes and frigates would engage them now that the war had actually started.
They both launched their ASW birds and were dropping sonobuoys in a wide pattern, attempting to canalize the sub so that the Maine could find her and finish her off before they’d have to deal with these surface contacts and any possible air contacts that might join them.
They hadn’t considered that the Chinese Air Force would do the same. There had been a couple of close calls with some Chinese J-15s at the outer perimeter of their air defenses. Fortunately, they hadn’t tried to test their luck yet, and the Americans were looking to conserve missiles until a real threat presented itself.
As the SH-60 touched down, the pilot powered down the engines. The work crews rushed over and began refueling the aircraft.
While that was happening, the crew loaded a new payload of
sonobuoys.
Lieutenant Chuck Nellis walked up to Commander Wade. “Sir, we’ve covered thousands of miles and dropped over two hundred buoys. If that Chinese boat is out there, she’s running silent and she’s got to be deep.”
“Damn, Lieutenant. You look like hell,” remarked Wade. “Let’s get some coffee. You’ve got about twenty minutes before your bird is ready again.”
“I feel like hell, boss. Are we really at war with China?” asked Nellis as he ran his hands through his sweat-soaked hair.
Commander Wade took off his cap as they walked into the hangar, not really believing they were at war either.
“I know it’s hard to believe. They were warned and they crossed the Clipperton-Galapagos Line. The Texas delivered a hard blow. They sank a carrier, so yeah—I’d say that means we’re at war.”
As the two officers walked toward the wardroom, a sailor ran up to them.
“Sir, the XO sent me for you. One of the Benfold’s ASW birds may have something!”
The three of them ran for the CIC. When they arrived, a video from the ASW helo was on screen.
*******
ASW Helo
Northeast of Taiwan
Lieutenant Sarah Mills lowered the dipping sonar and was hovering at one hundred feet while the sensor operator listened to what the AAQS-13F dipping sonar was feeding. This was her second pass over this spot of ocean. Her helo was running low on fuel and would need to return to the Benfold in ten minutes.
“Manny, we’re nearing bingo fuel. Either you find me a submarine to kill or we go home.” Lieutenant Mills found this cat-and-mouse game they had been playing frustrating.
Petty Officer Third Class Manuel “Manny” Martinez was her acoustic sensor operator or ASO. On their second run of the day, he thought he’d heard something when they’d made their second sonar dip. It sounded like a torpedo once it had acquired a target and accelerated to its terminal run. Once he found it again, the sound seemed to vanish.