Ssn (1996)

by Clancy, Tom

  With that in mind, and with the utmost faith in Cheyenne, her officers, and her crew, the Oahu admirals’ directives were for Cheyenne to proceed back to the north of the Spratly Islands and establish a patrol routine, shifting per the operations order from one area to another. Soon, maybe in a few weeks, Cheyenne’s sister 688s, USS Columbia and USS Bremerton, would arrive on station. Before then, however, they would have to finish their own surveillance assignments in the Sea of Japan and in the northwest Pacific off Petropavlosk, respectively.

  The combat systems officer had earlier briefed the captain that the mix of Tomahawks in the vertical-launch tubes had been changed to a mixture of land-attack missiles only, both TLAM-C and TLAM-D. The TASMs had been removed and replaced with the TLAM-Ds. That was Mack’s first hint about possible action concerning airfields and runways. The TLAM-D version contained bomblets for creating craters, a real nightmare for aircraft trying to take off.

  The briefing officer confirmed Mack’s guess. This type of action would be an option once the location of the runways had been confirmed and the imagery processed. Once that happened, Cheyenne would be notified via VLF message traffic over the floating wire and directed to periscope depth where targeting data would be downloaded by satellite directly to Cheyenne’s CCS Mk 2 console. This data would come from the theater mission planning center, located at the IPAC intelligence center in the USCINCPAC compound on Red Hill, Oahu.

  Mack kept his face impassive, but he didn’t like that. He would have preferred to have the information added to Cheyenne’s onboard tape library prior to her getting under way, but there simply wasn’t time for that.

  Once they reached that point in the operation, the Philippine Island of Palawan would again be used for its TERCOM and DSMAC data, but Cheyenne would have to establish the initial waypoints for the missile flights to Palawan, which would vary depending on her location at the time. That shouldn’t be a problem, however. It was part of the capabilities of the CCS Mk 2 console, a self-contained, onboard mission-planning center.

  So far, with the exception of the intel about the Chinese commander-in-chief, the briefing had gone pretty much as Mack had expected, but the briefing officer’s next comments caught him off guard. According to the briefing officer, by the time Cheyenne completed Patrol 3 and returned for reload, the floating drydock Arco would be available as needed.

  Mack didn’t like hearing that. He didn’t like entertaining the notion that Cheyenne would suffer sufficient damage to require a floating drydock for repairs. But this was war, he knew, and with the Chinese navy focused on hunting Cheyenne, he just might be all too glad of Arco’s presence.

  He was still thinking about that when the executive officer slipped the captain a note with the letters ASDS on it.

  Mack nodded, liking the news of Arco even less. He looked over at the briefing officer and asked, “Are there any intentions for Arco to bring the advanced SEAL delivery system, ASDS, out here?”

  The CTF 74 admiral answered the question before the briefing officer could speak: “That option has been discussed, Captain. The concern is that although Cheyenne completed the ship alterations for the ASDS and the interface pylon fit checks in San Diego prior to your deployment, the vehicle and your ship have not seen each other.”

  Mack nodded. “So the chances are slim for Cheyenne to demonstrate this newest war-fighting capability?” he asked.

  “I would say yes,” the admiral replied. “For the time being.”

  “That’s a relief, Admiral,” Mack said. “As you know, operations with that vehicle seem to be extremely intricate—especially the landing on my back. We would need some serious training before any prudent submariner would take that on for the first time in the uncontrolled nature of war.”

  “I agree, Captain,” the admiral said. “And that concern is precisely what I passed to COMSUBPAC.” He paused briefly before adding, “If the SEALs get involved in this war, and their movements are very tightly secreted by SOCOM (Special Operations Command), we’ll probably find out about it after it has happened—unless the intention is to use Cheyenne.”

  Mack was relieved to hear that. Partially, anyway. Losing control of Cheyenne was not part of his destiny—not if he had anything to say about it.

  The briefing ended soon after, and when they were back on Cheyenne Mack expressed his concern about the floating drydock to the executive officer. The executive officer agreed. He pointed out that it was the only way for Cheyenne to get dry for removal of fixed ballast—which would be necessary if the heavy ASDS vehicle were to be installed in its planned location. Installing it over the aft escape trunk, which led to the engine room, would put more weight aft than the variable ballast tanks could compensate for.

  “Attention on deck and on McKee,” the OOD announced over the bullhorn from the bridge. “Single all lines.” This order was repeated by the bridge phone talker over the sound-powered phones to the phone talkers on deck, one forward and one aft of the sail.

  Within minutes, the bow, stern, and spring lines were singled. When the ordered actions had been completed and the reports had been relayed to the OOD by his phone talker, he ordered, “Cast off the spring lines, lines three and four.”

  In peacetime, and under other circumstances, Cheyenne would use her own lines. But this was war. During their very first reload alongside McKee, Mack had ordered that Cheyenne’s line lockers be welded shut. This would prevent any possible noise sources from captive bolts loosening, especially since the chances of encountering torpedo and even depth charge explosions were increasing.

  As with the last two war patrols, all lines would be left with McKee, where they would be dried and stored with care until Cheyenne once again returned from her patrol.

  “Check the stern line. Keep the slack out of the bow line,” ordered the OOD. He was concerned about maintaining positive control of Cheyenne’s position until the stern was safely clear of the after anchor lines, especially those on McKee’s starboard side. He would not back the main engines until she was clear.

  In preparation for this next evolution, the OOD had already extended the secondary propulsion motor (SPM), tested it locally in the engineering spaces and from the ship-control console, and trained it to 090 degrees (relative).

  “Helm, conn, start the SPM.” That order came from conn on the sound-powered phones.

  When the SPM started, Cheyenne’s stern swung slowly to starboard. Pivoting around the camel between the two ships, the bow moved slowly toward McKee. With the momentum of the 6,900-ton submarine now swinging the stern nicely, the OOD ordered the SPM stopped, trained to 000 degrees, and housed. As the ship continued to swing slowly, the OOD backed the main engines at one-third speed long enough to gain sternway, and just enough to keep the sonar dome from coming too close to McKee’s hull.

  At his command, the two remaining lines were cast off, snaking through the water as the McKee line handlers pulled them on board. With the stern line clear of the stern planes, Cheyenne backed safely away from the submarine tender and her after anchors.

  Patrol 3 had commenced.

  Cheyenne’s first patrol area was centered on a line drawn directly between the Spratly Islands and Cam Ranh Bay. Intel suspected that this was the route that Chinese supply ships were using in keeping the Spratly Islands’ forces supplied and making the new airfield construction possible. Cheyenne was not authorized to attack these supply ships, just to collect intelligence on them. Washington could then use this information against the Vietnamese government for their collaboration with China.

  Just to the north of the patrol area, the bottom sloped steadily downward from 1,000 fathoms to over 2,200 fathoms. Mack welcomed this deep water, which would help Cheyenne and her Mk 48s. This would allow them to approach a target from deep below the layer without fear of detection by the shallower-running Alfa, which Mack suspected was lurking to the west of Cuarteron Reef.

  Although the Alfa’s titanium hull would actually allow it to dive deeper th
an Cheyenne, Mack didn’t expect it to do so. The Russians did not typically run deep, and he expected the Chinese, who were learning their Alfa handling techniques from the Russians that built her, to follow the same practices.

  Mack hoped that he was right. If he was, Cheyenne would be able to maintain the tactical advantage as long as possible. If he wasn’t... well, then things could get very interesting very fast.

  It was nearing midnight. The captain had been relieved of his command duty officer responsibilities by the executive officer. The new section fire control tracking party had just settled in when the TB-23 thin line towed array gained tonal contact. These tonals were the same as those Cheyenne had recorded during her earlier encounter with the Chinese Alfa before he was lost in the shallow shoal water.

  As towed-array bearing ambiguity was being resolved, more tonals were detected, on different beams, to the east. These tonals were also the same as the Chinese Alfa.

  The executive officer knew that there was only one way to interpret the situation: clearly, there were two Alfas. As more data came in, he could tell that the easterly one was closer and was maintaining his distance, but the other Alfa was closing on Cheyenne’s position. The fact that neither the conformal nor the spherical arrays had contact as of yet meant that both were easily beyond 60,000 yards away.

  The executive officer called the captain to the conn.

  Mack, as he always did, made his decisions quickly. In battle, he simply didn’t have the luxury of mulling things over for long.

  Cheyenne would close on the Alfa to the west. Mack chose that option because he knew the first Alfa might have recorded some of Cheyenne’s signature, and by closing on the other Alfa first he would place the easterly Alfa in Cheyenne’s baffles. This was, perhaps, not the best place for it to be, but it was the best option available to him. And it had the added benefit of allowing Cheyenne to take on the unsuspecting Alfa first.

  Battle stations were manned as soon as contact was gained on the conformal array at 40,000 yards.

  “Torpedo room, fire control, make tubes one and two ready in all respects, including opening the outer doors.” As was Mack’s habit, he instructed the executive officer to order the tubes readied before the range was so close that the Alfa would hear the evolution.

  Acknowledgment, as always, was immediate. “Make tubes one and two ready in all respects, including opening the outer doors, fire control, torpedo room, aye.”

  The executive officer, acting in his role as fire-control officer, passed the acknowledgment on to Mack. “Captain, tubes one and two are ready in all respects. Both outer doors are open.”

  “Very well, fire control,” Mack answered.

  The Alfa was drawing right now, with contact on all sonar arrays. When the BSY-1 operator and the fire-control coordinator were satisfied with the TMA solution on Master 69, the Chinese Alfa class attack submarine, the captain ordered, “Firing point procedures, Master 69.”

  His command was acknowledged and the combat systems officer at the BSY-1 reported the target course, speed, and range.

  “Sonar, conn, stand by.”

  “Conn, sonar, standing by.”

  “Match sonar bearings and shoot, tubes one and two.”

  “Match sonar bearings and shoot, tubes one and two, aye.”

  There was a short delay, and then the combat systems officer reported, “Tubes one and two fired electrically.”

  “Conn, sonar, units from tubes one and two running hot, straight, and normal,” said the sonar supervisor as the two torpedoes executed their wire-clearance maneuvers. They were running at a slower speed for now. Once they had acquired they would increase speed and come up from their deep search depth. When they breached the layer, the torpedoes would pitch up and complete their acceleration to attack speed.

  “Very well, sonar,” Mack replied. “Time to acquisition?” he asked the combat systems officer.

  “Fifteen minutes, twenty seconds, Captain.”

  Hunting two Alfas, with every passing moment increasing the odds that Cheyenne would be discovered, fifteen minutes had never seemed so long to Mack. After another eternity had passed, he heard, “Both units have acquired.”

  “Conn, sonar, Master 69 is turning toward and increasing speed, cavitating heavily.”

  Mack didn’t have a chance to acknowledge the information. Before he could say anything sonar reported noisemakers launched by the Alfa.

  Mack nodded and ordered “steer the weapons.” That would keep them from being tricked into attacking the decoys. He also ordered Cheyenne’s course changed to the right by ninety degrees. He wanted accurate targeting information for the torpedoes, and for that he needed the bearings to the incoming Alfa and to the stationary noisemakers to diverge.

  It didn’t take long to obtain a bearing spread. But Mack didn’t have any chance to relax. The combat systems officer had just reported the torpedoes on course for intercept of Master 69, when out of the baffles came sonar contact on the second Alfa.

  “Cut the wires, shut the outer doors, and reload tubes one and two,” Mack ordered. “Make tubes three and four ready in all respects, including opening the outer doors.”

  A melee situation was rapidly developing.

  “Conn, sonar, we have torpedoes in the water, bearings 285, 290, 110, and 105. Both Alfas have launched weapons at us!”

  “Match sonar bearings and shoot, Master 70, as soon as tubes three and four are ready.”

  It was time for Cheyenne to clear datum. It was also time for their own countermeasures to be launched. As soon as Mack received the report of tubes three and four being fired electrically, he ordered the outer doors shut and the tubes reloaded. The torpedoes they’d just fired would have to do their own thing.

  “Steady as she goes, all ahead flank. Do not cavitate. Make your depth one thousand feet.” When those orders had been acknowledged, Mack added, “Rig ship for depth charge.” It didn’t matter that those were torpedoes coming at Cheyenne, not depth charges. The phrase had originated in the early days of the Silent Service, and it had stuck.

  Mack had done all he could for the moment. His plan now was to let the countermeasures do their own work and to try and slip away from the scene.

  Cheyenne reached flank speed, on course 015, and at one thousand feet, as the Chinese-launched, Russian-made torpedoes were entering the baffles. The countermeasures, launched from the dispensers at the stern planes’ vertical struts, had worked, decoying the fish and buying time for Cheyenne.

  That was the good news. The bad news was that sonar couldn’t hear Cheyenne’s last two torpedoes, and couldn’t tell whether they had entered their terminal homing mode at Master 70. With the guidance wires cut, the BSY-1 had no knowledge of it, either.

  The next few minutes were tense and silent. Then the sonar supervisor spoke up. “Conn, sonar, two explosions, one bearing 175 and the other coming from the baffles.”

  Sonar didn’t have enough bearing information to get both direct path and bottom bounce, so the sonar supervisor couldn’t report range. Sonar also couldn’t tell exactly what the torpedoes had impacted against. It could have been one or both of the Chinese Alfas, but it could also have been Chinese noisemakers, or even Cheyenne’s own countermeasures. To top it off, Cheyenne had lost contact on both Alfas in the baffles.

  In short, Mack had no idea whether one or both of the Alfas were still there—and he wanted to know. That information was important to Cheyenne’s survival, and to the success of her mission.

  On his orders, Cheyenne slowed and, after proceeding above the layer, cleared her baffles to port. There was no sign of the Alfas, only reverberations from the explosions.

  The data did show, however, that there had been three explosions, not two. The one they’d picked up in their baffles had actually been two separate explosions.

  Mack didn’t have many different ways to read this situation. The Alfas could either have surfaced or have gone to the bottom—and he didn’t think they’d
gone down. There had been eight separate torpedoes in the area, he knew, four from Cheyenne and two each from the Alfas. With only three explosions, it was doubtful that both Chinese submarines had been killed.

  But there just wasn’t any way to tell from the available data. Not yet, anyway. The sonar tapes would have to be analyzed, a process that would take some time, and then maybe they’d have a better idea.

  Cheyenne continued on course toward the second patrol area, at seven hundred feet to keep beneath the layer, while battle stations and the rig for depth charge were secured. The usual all-officer meeting was delayed for at least thirty minutes while the captain and executive officer talked in his stateroom and the melee was reconstructed by the battle stations fire-control party.

  It was clear to both the captain and the executive officer that the Chinese commander-in-chief had ordered drastic measures. Both Alfas had continued on course right at Cheyenne’s datum without trying to turn away, even with Mk 48s coming their way.

  Mack had always hated the Soviet Crazy Ivan maneuvers, but this was even worse. It was more like the Japanese kamikaze, the “Divine Wind” World War II pilots.

  When the officers finally got together in the wardroom, the sonar supervisor and his chief petty officer were there with their tape analysis. They had been able to determine that two of the explosions were Mk 48 ADCAP PBXN-103, one in the baffles and the one bearing 175. The third explosion, originally in the baffles, was from a 53cm torpedo warhead. They were able to determine the difference in kilogram yield based on the duration and decibels of the reverberations.