by James Rosone
As his missile crews began to report in, Captain Yi realized that only three of the launching points were operational; the others had been destroyed during the bombardment. Thinking for a minute, Yi Jang determined, “Once we launch our first three missiles, we will probably only have enough time to get maybe one more volley off before the Americans find out where the missiles are coming from and destroy the launching stations. We had better make those missiles count.”
He looked more closely at the ships on the monitor. “Can we determine what type of ships we are seeing?” he asked.
The lieutenant brought up the camera feed and zoomed in as best he could. “It looks like this ship here is a troop transport of some sort. We could launch our missiles at that ship,” he suggested.
Captain Yi simply nodded. It looked like a good target. They programed the targeting data into the missiles and prepared them to fire. Once the missiles had fired, the rail launcher would pull back inside the bunker and the crews would work feverously to reload another missile onto the rail and get it ready to launch again. Even under the best conditions, it had still taken them three minutes to reload the rail launcher during training exercises.
Once the data had been programed into the missiles, they were immediately fired off. As the missiles leapt from their launchers, they quickly got up to speed, skimming the surface of the water as they streaked towards their targets. It would take less than a minute for the missiles to intercept the ships.
*******
As the Arleigh Burke-class destroyer sailed to within thirty kilometers of Ch’o-do Island, the Captain of the USS Howard began to get nervous. They were screening for the Marine transport ships, which were still moving to get in range of their amphibious assault crafts, and his ship had already fired off half of their Tomahawk and Harpoon cruise missiles in the first fifteen minutes of the war. The KPA artillery had tried to zero in on their positions a few times, but it was hard to hit a ship that could accelerate to 30+ knots and zig and zag.
While the captain was sipping on his coffee, the mundane noise of the CIC was suddenly broken. “Vampires, vampires, vampires!” yelled a petty officer who was manning one of the radar stations.
Three missiles originating from Ch’o-do island suddenly materialized and began to accelerate quickly towards their flotilla. One of the weapons officers ordered the ships missile defense systems to engage the incoming threats. The ship began to fire off their SM-2 missile interceptors in quick succession.
Then, suddenly, several dozen more land based missiles appeared from the Namp'o City area, not far from Pyongyang. The USS Howard’s integrated defense systems went into overdrive, spitting out SM-2s as fast as it could.
In minutes, the sky was filled with missile interceptors as the destroyer escorts and the four Ticonderoga-class guided-missile cruisers did their best to defend the fleet from the incoming threats. The battle was now in the hands of the Aegis Combat System and the extensive training of the crews that were manning it.
No Time to Iron
Beijing, China
CMC Headquarters
General Kuang called the emergency meeting of the CMC as soon as Vice Admiral Ning informed him that one of their submarines had been attacked and sunk by the Americans in the Yellow Sea. The Americans had managed to pre-empt the North Koreans invasion of the South by one day, throwing China’s timetable off; however, this attack by the Americans on one of their subs may have just given them the pretext for the next phase of their operation.
President Xi walked into the command bunker, feeling a bit disheveled. His hair had not been combed, and his shirt was badly wrinkled. He had been sound asleep when he had been rudely awakened from a lovely dream by one of his aides. The unlucky man had told him, “There was an incident involving one of China’s submarines and the US Navy carrier group. Your presence is needed in the bunker.”
Once his feet hit the floor, President Xi quickly threw on some pants and a button-down shirt. He skipped the tie and jacket; no need to be too formal at this hour of the day. When he arrived at the command bunker fifteen minutes later, he saw several of the other members just as tired and unkempt as he was.
“What happened?” he asked his Minister of Defense as everyone began to take their seats. A military aide began to pour everyone some hot tea as the meeting began.
Vice Admiral Ning spoke up first. “Sir, one of our Yuan-class attack submarines was sunk by a US Navy submarine roughly 90 minutes ago. The submarine had recently completed some upgrades at the shipyard and was en-route to join our other forces in the East China Sea to observe the American carrier battle groups. While transiting to their observation point, it appears they stumbled onto a North Korean submarine, who confused them for an American submarine and fired on them.”
The eyebrows of the men around him all tweaked in strange positions. It was obvious that they were confused. The admiral held up his hand to signal that there was more to the story.
“Our sub evaded the KPN’s torpedo and summarily sank them, rather than risking an enemy sub getting a second shot off at them. One of our torpedoes missed the Korean submarine, and it continued on a trajectory that took it towards an American submarine. At that moment, the Americans engaged our sub and sunk them. Eighteen sailors were able to escape and are currently being held on an American destroyer,” the admiral concluded.
Foreign Minister Yong Zhang added, “The Americans have reached out to our office and have relayed nearly the exact same information. They said they fired in self-defense of their fleet, believing it was under attack. They have offered to return our sailors as soon as possible, and requested to know where we would like them flown.”
The others in the room grumbled at this. They did not like the fact that their sailors had been taken prisoner and over a hundred others had been killed.
General Kuang, the Defense Minister, interjected, “Mr. President, while the loss of our submarine and most of its crew is tragic, it does present us with a unique opportunity.” The others in the room looked at him as if he had two heads.
“The next phase of our operation calls for us to reoccupy the Province of Formosa (Taiwan). That action was going to result in a probable confrontation with the US. This incident gives us a precursor situation, allowing us to respond militarily to the Americans and shape the narrative that they were the aggressors, that we are merely defending ourselves,” he said convincingly.
Foreign Minister Yong immediately jumped in before anyone else could get a word in edgewise. “I would highly caution us against an immediate retaliation against the Americans,” he urged. “Our plan calls for us to wait until the United States is fully bogged down in a ground war with North Korea. If they are fully committed in both Korea and Ukraine, they are not going to be able to intervene in Taiwan.”
The group devolved into several factions, arguing for and against striking back at the Americans right away. The sinking of their submarine did present the perfect pretext to attack them, but they still needed time to shore up their assets before they made that move. The Americans were in an excellent position to retaliate financially against China, if they did not get certain things taken care of first.
President Xi looked at his Foreign Minister, “How long do you believe we need to dump the remaining Treasuries we hold?”
The group all intently looked at Minister Yong. He looked through some notes, then responded, “At least twenty-four hours. We can take a loss on them, but it would be best if we could wait two days to get a better price. As to the businesses, I have no idea how far along they are at securing themselves from any potential American retribution. They were told they needed to have things ready in eight days, not twenty-four hours.”
Sitting back in his chair, Xi reached out and took his cup of tea. He lifted the warm liquid to his lips and sipped slowly, thinking. “The Americans have given us the appropriate pre-text to act without appearing to be the aggressor. Some of our corporations may be hurt by an expedited t
imeline, but that cannot be helped. We must execute. Start Operation Red Storm in twenty-four hours. Move our forces across the North Korean border and secure the Peninsula. Then let’s bring that belligerent little Province Formosa back into the fold.”
Everyone in the room smiled; they liked it when their leader was aggressive. Then the room became abuzz with activity as they all sprang to action, issuing orders to the various departments and commands and setting the stage for the next phase of action.
Ant Hive
East China Sea
The two American Supercarriers were almost constantly either launching or recovering aircraft for the past three hours. The Korean War had started just like the Iraq War in 2003, with complete and utter shock and awe, which was a stark contrast to how things had started with Russia. The US hit North Korea with nearly 1,500 cruise missiles and precision-guided munitions, destroying much of the country’s command and control bunkers, air defense and artillery positions in the first thirty minutes of the war.
The KPA (Korean People’s Army) was being pounded from the air, sea, and land by the US and ROK Forces in a very well-planned, and rehearsed attack plan. Since the end of the Korean War in 1953, the US had kept detailed and up-to-date plans on how they would disable and occupy the North, should it ever come to that. Once it became clear that a war with North Korea was unavoidable, those plans were once again combed over and updated. So far, things were basically going according to the grand strategy.
Captain Michael Richards, the Captain of the Carl Vinson stood on the bridge, watching as the next wave of aircraft was recovered from a successful bombing run. The pair of F/A-18s that just flew in, had been hitting suspected artillery positions near the beach area, where the US and ROK Marines would be assaulting once the ground war started.
Richards looked on as the Hornets were guided to the elevators, where they would be lowered to the next deck, so they could be refueled, rearmed, and then returned to the flight deck so they could hit the next target. The whole process moved so quickly that the pilots were only on the ship long enough to use the restroom, rehydrate, and get a brief on their next target before they got back in the air.
The maintenance and ordinance crews below were working feverishly to get the aircraft turned back around and ready for another mission. It was relentlessly hard and backbreaking work getting everything done like this. When things were running smoothly, it was impressive to watch. When things went awry, it could get crazy fast.
Captain Richards picked up a pair of binoculars to catch a glimpse of one of the aircraft coming in. It was streaming smoke from one of its engines. The F/A-18 had taken a hit from some enemy ground fire and was trying to limp its way back home. The aircraft moved a bit awkwardly through the air as it approached the carrier, streaming a light trail of black smoke from one of its engines. He could see it was in a bit of trouble; it was coming in too high and too slow.
The air boss tried to wave the aircraft off, but the pilot was determined to set her down. He descended quickly, thinking he might overshoot. Then, just as the aircraft looked like it was going to make it, its remaining engine stalled out and the F/A-18 slammed into the rear of the ship, just below the flight deck, killing the pilot and injuring nearly a dozen people. Black oily smoke began to billow from the stern. Firefighting groups immediately rushed forward to douse foam and fire retardant on the flames.
“No! The pilot should have gone around or ditched in the water!” yelled Richards. Then the Captain let out a long stream of obscenities. He’d mourn the loss of the pilot later; right now, he had other aircraft needing to land, and this foul-up had just cost him precious time.
One of the other officers from the CIC came up to the bridge and got his attention. “Captain, there’s a message coming in from the Reagan,” he said, handing Richards a piece of paper. The officer paused long enough to look out the window and see the black smoke coming from the rear of the carrier, and then unceremoniously headed back down to the CIC.
His CAG looked at him. “What’s it say, Captain? Anything good?” he asked trying to take his mind off the pilot he just lost.
The Captain read it over, then looked up at the CAG. “One of their Hornet pilots spotted a mobile missile launch vehicle moving through a valley where he was bombing some artillery positions. The pilot didn’t have any ordinance left, but sent the grid back to the carrier. Looks like the North may be trying to get in position to launch some ballistic missiles,” he replied, which made the bridge crew a bit nervous.
No one knew if the North would try and use their nuclear weapons, or if the missiles would be conventional or possibly chemical in nature. A nuclear missile could just as easily as take out the battle group as a coordinated strike by the Chinese or Russians.
The Unthinkable
North Korean/Chinese Border
Paektu Mountain
Lieutenant General Ghim was furious. The country was under attack, and there was little he could do to stop it. Several of their launch facilities had already been destroyed; now the Americans were hunting down his mobile launchers far more effectively than he believed possible. Within minutes of the first missiles and bombs hitting Pyongyang, he immediately ordered his mobile missile launchers to disperse. He had a brief call with the Supreme Leader, who ordered him to launch his missiles, but the connection was cut off before he could confirm the order. When he tried to call the command bunker back, the line was dead.
For the last three hours, General Ghim had been trying to get through to the military leadership to confirm his order and to find out if he should have the mobile launchers fire their missiles as well. Finally, he was able to reach one of the alternate command bunkers.
“The Supreme Leader has been injured and is currently in surgery,” explained the new Commander of the KPA.
“Should I launch my missiles, Sir?” asked General Ghim.
“Proceed with the launch. Hit the South Korean and American Army and Navy immediately,” came the order. Then the line went dead again.
He looked at the phone for a second, wondering if the line went dead because the bunker had just been destroyed, or if it was a problem on his end. All he knew was the Americans were bombing his country, and his fellow soldiers were dying by the thousands.
“I had better get our missiles airborne,” he realized. “They are the only thing that is going to equalize the situation. If at least one of our missiles can get through, then we may be able to destroy enough of the enemy army to allow our guys to hold the line.”
He turned to several of his officers. “Have the mobile missile crews launch their missiles at their assigned targets,” he instructed, matter-of-fact.
The officers began to contact the nearly two dozen missile crews that had managed to get set up and relayed their orders to them. The missile crews would fire their short and medium range ballistic missiles, which would rain down on the American naval battle group and several troop concentration points along the DMZ. Their hope was to destroy enough of the allied forces to keep them from penetrating the DMZ.
While his officers were handling the mobile launchers, General Ghim walked over to the terminal where the technicians who handled the launch of the Dongfeng 5B ICBM missiles were waiting. They looked at him with grave concern in their eyes about the health of the Dear Leader. Everyone revered Pak Lee like a deity, and to hear that he had been injured by an American bomb infuriated them.
“Begin fueling the missiles and prepare them to launch, ordered Ghim. “Wait until the last minute to open the launch door.”
Snake Eaters
Woo-shup Eup Village, North Korea
The distant flashes of artillery and explosions were visible in the darkness, followed by the low rumbles of explosions. Despite the sounds of war raging in the distant background, it was quiet in the forested area where the Special Forces operators had set up shop. A few birds chirping could be heard as they began their morning calls to each other. While it was still dark, the pre-
dawn light was starting to displace the blackness that enveloped the valley and surrounding area the three Special Forces operators were hiding in.
The air was cool, almost chilly, as Chief Warrant Officer Four (CW4) Charles Lee (call sign “Chucky”) slowly moved to the spotting scope and looked down into the valley below at the possible target Maverick had found (Maverick was the call sign for Sergeant First Class Mark Wilson, one of the soldiers in his Alpha team). Maverick had been using a long range directional microphone to listen for vehicles traveling into the valley below. As they heard any engine sounds, they would switch over to using the night vision and thermal scopes to locate and identify the source of the noise.
CW4 Lee’s twelve-man Operational Detachment Alpha (ODA) team had inserted into the valley seven hours ago via a HALO jump. Shortly after parachuting in, they realized that their original observational post (OP) had been compromised when they spotted a company-sized element of enemy soldiers encamped there, forcing them to use an alternate OP.
The observation post (OP) they had established themselves on, while not ideal, still had a commanding view of the lower portion of the valley below them. It also provided them with a view of two winding roads that ran through several large nearby ridgelines and a couple of small villages. This valley and the one nearby were both suspected staging sites for the KPA’s (Korean People’s Army) mobile ballistic missile launchers.
Lee’s team had made it in undetected and successfully set up in various over watch positions on the alternate OP, covering several different potential launch sites. Their mission was to observe enemy troop movements and look for possible missile launchers. If they found a target, they had one Tactical Air Control Party (TACP) with them to call in an airstrike.