by Clancy, Tom
Flying at just under the speed of sound, the missiles found their marks in less than five minutes. This time it was the Chinese who never had a chance.
Three large explosions marked the success of Cheyenne’s attack. The Romeo was hit first. The Harpoon came from its cruising altitude, performed its pop-up maneuver, and slammed into the top of the Romeo’s afterdeck while the submarine was recharging on the surface. The Chinese navy had tried to save money by not repairing the damaged snorkel system. That decision cost them their submarine.
The missile’s 510-pound high-explosive warhead detonated on impact, tearing a large hole in the hull and sending the force of its explosion down into the belly of the submarine. The thin steel hull burst apart, splitting the submarine into two pieces. Both halves quickly filled with water and sank, opposite ends first, into the sea.
Twelve seconds later, it was the destroyer’s turn. The first missile hit its front end, directly under the 130mm gun. There was a horrific explosion and the entire fore section of the destroyer was bent in a downward direction, bringing a large amount of water into the ship. The second Harpoon hit the ship’s bridge, killing the captain and all in its command center.
The 3,400-ton destroyer did not sink right away. It didn’t break up quickly enough for that. It would be three long hours before it sank into the depths of the Pacific. Instead, it sat, dead in the water, a spreading pool of oil and diesel fuel marking what would become its watery grave.
Aboard Cheyenne, the captain and crew knew only that they should have hit their targets, but they had no way of determining how well the missiles had done their job. As soon as the Harpoons were launched, Cheyenne descended to 375 feet and immediately departed the area. If there were any other enemy vessels nearby, they would undoubtedly be looking for her at this very moment. Mack waited for nearly an hour before he secured from battle stations.
Cheyenne had done her job extremely well, Captain Mackey thought. Mack’s grandfather had served in the “Silent Service” of World War II, and Mack thought the old man would be very proud of their accomplishments, if only he were still alive.
Cheyenne was the newest operational attack submarine in the entire U.S. submarine force. She had been on active duty for only a short while. But already she had been directly responsible for two kills of enemy submarines and one kill of an enemy destroyer. Mack didn’t know it, but Cheyenne was well on her way to becoming one of the most decorated submarines of the entire Pacific Fleet.
Life aboard a submarine was often a lonely existence in which sailors had little personal space and almost zero privacy. The newest sailors were often required to “hot bunk”—sharing bunks on a rotating sleep schedule. As soon as one sailor rolled out of bed, another crewman would take his place in the same bunk. The uncomfortable feeling of climbing into an already warm bed gave rise to the term “hot bunking.”
After their most recent encounter, however, life aboard Cheyenne was anything but lonely. Every sonar contact seemed to signal an enemy, every noise from their reactor or propulsion plant threatened to expose them to the Chinese, and every incoming communication held the promise of action. Running at twenty-six knots in the same “sprint and drift” mode they had employed in their transit to Pearl, Mack wanted to reach Independence as quickly as was practically possible.
As time passed, however, with no further encounters, the tension levels on board gradually returned to normal, and before the crew realized it they were approaching the Celebes Sea. Once through this, they would have only the Sulu Sea between them and their rendezvous in the South China Sea.
Cheyenne had received word that Independence was on station and awaiting her arrival. Mack and his crew were currently a little over 1,200 miles from Independence’s location. At flank speed, Cheyenne could be there in a little over two days, but travelling that fast could prove to be too noisy. At the slower but safer twenty-six knots, running in sprint-and-drift mode, Cheyenne would still make her rendezvous in less than four days.
Midway through the Celebes Sea, Mack received an update. Cheyenne was instructed to use extreme caution once she passed through the Celebes and Sulu seas and into the South China Sea. Naval intelligence was reporting that mines might have been laid there, and they could pose a danger to Cheyenne.
That was news. China typically deployed coastal and moored contact minefields—technology that certainly wasn’t obsolete, but which would not seriously threaten Cheyenne. Recent intelligence reports, however, indicated that the cash-strapped Russian military had sold the Chinese an unconfirmed number of “Cluster Bay” and “Cluster Gulf” antisubmarine mines, the latter of which could be used in 2,000 meters of seawater. That meant that Cheyenne would have to be on guard against the older, less advanced mines, and they would also have to watch out for the very real possibility that they might “come into contact” with these deep-water mines as well.
Mack was not pleased with this news, and he liked the next bit of intelligence even less. An extremely large Chinese surface and submarine fleet was currently forming, and naval intelligence expected them to leave Guangzhou Naval Base sometime within the next thirty-six hours. Naval intelligence assumed—and Mack agreed—that the Chinese force’s mission most probably consisted of two parts: hunting for any U.S. naval vessels in the area and, more specifically and more immediately, attempting to sink the U.S. carrier Independence.
Once they reached the eastern entrance to the Sulu Sea, Mack cut Cheyenne’s speed to ten knots. She would travel through the Sulu Sea slowly and quietly until she reached the Balabac Strait, south of the relatively tiny island of Palawan. That would be her last opportunity to listen carefully before entering hostile waters.
As planned, Cheyenne stayed slow and listened for any danger signs before entering the South China Sea to her southwest. The recently invaded Spratly Islands lay several hundred nautical miles away in the center of the South China Sea. These were reportedly heavily guarded by a large Chinese contingent intended to prevent another invasion of the islands.
After Cheyenne passed silently into the South China Sea, Mack ordered, “Deploy the TB-23,” calling for his crew to stream their passive “thin-line” towed-array.
Designed to detect very low-frequency noise at long distances, the TB-23 was one of the newest additions to the improved Los Angeles class submarines. Cheyenne was also one of the first submarines to receive this new system.
The TB-23, which was reeled into the submarine’s main ballast tank instead of being housed internally and running down the side of the pressure hull like the TB- 16, was so long that even with Cheyenne running at twenty knots, she would still be able to detect distant sonar contacts.
The towed-array worked beautifully, and its dozens of hydrophones detected more sounds than the submarine’s computers often knew what to do with. Everything from large fish to fishing trawlers had been detected on their submarine’s TB-23 since their abbreviated shakedown cruise and they were now very confident in its operation.
Almost immediately, the TB-23 detected a large number of contacts. Distance was hard to gauge with the TB-23;
the signals it picked up could be coming through a convergence zone, and without the sea room to maneuver very much, precision bearings and ranges were very difficult.
From the initial detections, Mack guessed that these contacts were from surface contacts very far away—over 100 miles. If he was lucky, these tonals would turn out to be from the Chinese task group sent to attack the Independence Carrier Battle Group that had entered the South China Sea south of Borneo.
Creeping along at five knots in a westerly direction, Mack took Cheyenne farther into the South China Sea.
The TB-23’s detections were correct, and so was Mack’s guess. The contacts were the Chinese task group, and it was very large indeed. It consisted of seven fast attack craft, four Jianghu class frigates, three Ming class attack submarines, and two Romeo submarines. The Chinese task group had two primary missions to accomplish:
mine the South China Sea and sink Independence.
American carriers had been a thorn in the Chinese government’s side since the very beginning of this conflict. They had lost their first Han class submarine to a U.S. submarine accompanying Nimitz, but Nimitz herself was not currently a target. She waited outside the South China Sea, just south of Taiwan, ready to enter if the need arose. The danger of mines in the South China Sea was a serious one and was one of the major reasons that Nimitz waited out of harm’s way, at least for the time being. But the aircraft carrier Independence (CV-62) had now been in the South China Sea for over one month, and for the Chinese she was a big, attractive, and highly desirable target. After laying their mines, the Chinese task group headed directly toward Independence.
With the aid of overhead imagery, U.S. naval intelligence quickly guessed the Chinese task group’s mission, but they had no immediate way to inform Cheyenne. Since ELF coverage in the South China Sea was sporadic, the submarine was essentially out of contact until she came shallow enough for the floating wire to be able to copy traffic.
At 1000 hours on the day after entering the South China Sea, Cheyenne’s floating wire antenna reached close to the surface and stayed there just long enough to copy recent traffic. An S-3 from Independence relayed the latest intelligence on this rather large Chinese surface and submarine group. The message relayed through the ASWC (anti-submarine warfare commander) to CTF 74—Commander Task Force 74, also known as Commander Submarine Group 7, located in Yokosuka, Japan, also included Cheyenne’s new orders.
Cheyenne was instructed to pass silently near the Chinese task group and find out exactly how many submarines were operating in cooperation with this group.
Most Chinese surface vessels had only a limited ASW (antisubmarine warfare) capability, and so the main threat to Cheyenne would come in the form of attack submarines and maritime patrol aircraft such as the Chinese versions of the Russian 11-28 Beagle known as the Harbin H-5. These aircraft carried bombs and torpedoes, and could pose a serious threat to Cheyenne. Captain Mackey was counting on Independence’s F-14s to handle at least some of these aircraft.
In addition, there was also a shorter-range threat from Chinese helicopters that many of their surface combatants carried on board. Similar in concept to the American LAMPS program, the Chinese had dozens of Chinese models of the French Dauphin helicopter equipped for ASW operations. Once Cheyenne got close to the surface fleet, she would have to be extremely cautious.
Cheyenne picked up speed in order to reach her objective. The Chinese fleet could only move as fast as their slowest vessels, and their overall speed was less than ten knots. They were currently positioned a little over six hundred miles away from the American Carrier Battle Group, just at the edge of the Independence’s aircraft range, but outside of normal CAP (Combat Air Patrol) search sectors. Cheyenne was seventy-five miles east of the Chinese task group.
After a brief run at 12 knots, Cheyenne cut this distance to less than fifty miles. Then the fleet of enemy warships slowed even further. At first glance, it appeared that one of their destroyers was having trouble with its power plant and, wanting to keep the fleet together, they had all stopped. But Mack wasn’t fooled. What the Chinese were doing was laying mines.
Their intent, as Mack saw it, was to lay a minefield in case one of the nations that claimed the Spratlys attempted to invade them. In fact, Mack was willing to bet that all available Chinese naval vessels were now tasked with laying mines at every access to the South China Sea.
Mack figured that after seeing the disastrous loss the Iraqis suffered in the 1991 Persian Gulf War, the Chinese had realized that the only way to defeat the American Navy was by the use of naval mines. This was the American weakness, and the South China Sea—China’s home waters—would be where they would exploit it.
Within an hour, the Chinese task group had come to a complete halt, but that didn’t bother Mack at all. The stoppage of the Chinese fleet allowed Cheyenne to close the remaining distance quickly.
Half an hour later, with battle stations manned, Mack was within range to attack the closest vessel in the fleet, a lone Romeo class submarine that had wandered to the east, away from the group, in an attempt to detect possible enemy operations. As Cheyenne crept closer to the group, at a cautious speed of four-and-a-half knots, it was clear that the Romeo was not aware of her silent presence.
“Conn, sonar, we now have five submarine contacts, all diesels on the surface, operating with this group,” the sonar supervisor advised the captain. “It looks as if they have three Mings and two Romeos. I think the submarines are patrolling the area while the surface vessels lay their mines.”
Mack acknowledged the report and ordered the Mings designated Masters 15, 16, and 17, and the Romeos designated Masters 18 and 19. His assessment of the situation matched that of the sonar supervisor.
As Cheyenne closed on the Chinese task group, Mack was faced with the difficult decision of whether or not he should attack any units in this enemy force. His orders had been to find out how many submarines were operating with this group. He had done that. His obligation now was to convey that information to Independence, but with that first Romeo, Master 18, sitting solidly on his track, Mack’s instinct was to blow that Chinese submarine out of the water.
Mack shook his head and let the Romeo slip away. He had something better in mind. What Cheyenne would do, he decided, was to wait until she had passed outside the range of the Romeo. Then she would use her Mk 48s to attack one of the Jianghu frigates and one of the Ming submarines, since the Ming was the better of the two submarine classes. Cheyenne would then race away and silently head for Independence.
That was Mack’s plan. No battle plan, however, he reminded himself, survives first contact with the enemy.
He got his chance to test that maxim exactly ninety-three minutes later. Cheyenne had reached the outer ring of the rest of the submarines, and the only danger to her now was the ASW helicopters that might be patrolling the area.
The submarine and frigate Mack had targeted were operating within three thousand yards of each other. This would be a perfect Mk 48 shot. He had decided to target the Ming submarine, Master 15, first, and the Jianghu frigate, Master 20, second, because the Ming posed a more serious threat to Cheyenne.
Mack announced firing point procedures for an attack on the Ming, Master 15. “Make tubes one and two ready in all respects, including opening the outer doors!”
Confirmation of his command was almost immediate. Tubes one and two were ready, with their outer doors open.
“Match bearings and shoot, tubes one and two, Master 15.”
Again, confirmation was almost immediate. The first torpedoes were away.
“Cut the wires, shut the outer doors, and reload tubes one and two,” Mack ordered, his voice brisk and efficient.
With their wires cut, the Mk 48s would have to find their target without the help of their guidance wires, but they were close enough to their target that they were virtually certain of acquiring.
Mack put the first two torpedoes out of his mind. They were gone and on their own, and would fail or succeed without his help. Now he had to worry about their next target.
“Make tubes three and four ready in all respects, including opening the outer doors,” he said, beginning the procedure once again. Within moments, the second pair of Mk 48s was headed straight for Master 20, the 1,500-ton frigate.
Aboard the Ming submarine there was little time for reaction. The Chinese captain ordered flank speed in the opposite direction of the torpedoes, but the two Mk 48s continued to close the gap.
The Ming reached its maximum speed quickly, but it simply did not have the ability to outrun the speeding ADCAP torpedoes, cutting through the water at over fifty knots.
The frigate was encountering a similar type of panic. Its first reaction was to begin dropping ASW mortars into the water in an attempt to throw the torpedoes off course.
These mortars, which carri
ed the designation RBU 1200, were unguided but still dangerous. They essentially threw small bombs out to a range of slightly more than 1,200 yards. Since each mortar “shell” carried seventy-five pounds of explosive, their effects were spread out over a large area. There was always the danger that the explosion might damage Cheyenne, even though she was out of their direct range and path.
“Rig ship for depth charge,” Mack ordered.
The mortars were a bad idea. Their explosions did not reach Cheyenne—in fact, they posed a greater risk to the Ming patrolling closer to the frigate. What’s more, rather than harming Cheyenne, they actually helped her. With the loud explosions masking all other sounds—including preventing Cheyenne from learning whether her torpedoes had found their marks—Mack ordered flank speed as he turned to run from the Chinese task group.
Two hours later, with Cheyenne clear of the area and out of danger, her floating wire confirmed that her presence in the area was no longer a secret—but she had announced herself in fine fashion. Three of her four torpedoes had hit their targets, costing the Chinese a frigate and a Ming class submarine.
Along with this information came Cheyenne‘s previous orders: continue with the rendezvous with Independence , still some six hundred miles from Cheyenne’s current position.
Mack was pleased with both the intelligence and the orders, but he knew that they’d have to be even more cautious from now on. Cheyenne was no longer a secret, and she was wearing the enemy’s blood. Every available Chinese ASW asset would be hunting for Cheyenne and attempting to kill her.
But they’d have to find her first, and then they’d have to catch her. And Cheyenne ran fast. Her mission was now to reach Independence—which, at her current speed of twenty-five knots, and allowing for the sprint-and-drift technique, would take about fifteen hours.
Mack secured from battle stations and the rig for depth charge, and then settled in for the transit to Independence.
