Ssn (1996)

by Clancy, Tom

  This was all before they ever got to their first submarine. Once on board, they had new reactor and propulsion plant manuals to study, supplemented by ship’s information books, weapons manuals, and at least twenty more documents related to operations against what was now the enemy.

  After all this, Mack wasn’t worried about what they knew, but they needed practice and experience to go with all that book knowledge. It was the procedural steps and the feel of the ship under their feet that the JOODs needed to learn well enough so that they could surface and dive the ship in their sleep. And even more important, they needed to learn how to think on their feet, in case the unusual were to happen, which might not be covered in books.

  Cheyenne’s junior officers weren’t the only ones boning up for qualification boards, either. Her executive officer was shooting for the “qualified for command” designation—but he didn’t know that Mack had recommended him to CTF 74 prior to their last underway. His first hint that he’d better ready himself for the qual-for-command board was a message stating that their commodore, Commander Submarine Squadron Eleven (CSS 11) in San Diego, would be on board Arco, the floating repair dock, medium (ARDM-5).

  Upon receiving that message, the executive officer initially expected that the board would consist of CTF 74, his CSS 11 commodore, and the captain of McKee. That expectation changed, however, when Cheyenne received an operations directive routing them to Subic Bay instead of the safe anchorage off Brunei, where they had originally expected McKee and Arco to be located. Based on the rest of the message traffic, the executive officer wasn’t sure there would be time for his qual board.

  Message traffic indicated that IUSS (Integrated Undersea Surveillance System) had sniffs of a number of the newest operational class of Russian SSNs, the Akula II, heading south from the Sea of Okhotsk area toward the South China Sea—and the numbers did not match naval intelligence’s initial expectations. Satellite imagery of Vladivostok showed three submarines missing, and data from Petropavlosk added another missing sub, for a total of four, but IUSS was picking up seven different Akula class SSNs.

  New data, however, showed three more missing from the Russian base in the Kola Peninsula. Naval intelligence had been concentrating on the Pacific theater and had missed the departure of the North Fleet Akula II SSNs the week before. These Akulas had completed an under-ice transfer through the Bering Straits before they were detected in the Bering Sea, and had rendezvoused with the PACFLT Akulas east of the Kurile Islands.

  According to the message traffic, Arco was being diverted to Subic Bay for safety. Had she stuck to her original orders, she would have made a long transit at sea protected only by Cheyenne, and the risk of being overwhelmed by the sheer number of Akulas was simply too great.

  On a similar note, in order to avoid a repeat of the Chinese Kilo SSK attacks on McKee that Cheyenne had fought off after returning from the first patrol, the submarine tender was now en route to the safety of Subic Bay via the Philippine Sea. She was scheduled to arrive the day before Cheyenne.

  Sino-Soviet trade relations were obviously booming, Captain Mackey realized as he read the message traffic. The Russian president, Gennadi Zyuganov, was allowing his navy to supply the Chinese with the Akula IIs. That was bad enough. Worse, though, was the fact that these sales were being consummated so quickly that China could not crew the SSNs, and Russia had wholeheartedly agreed to supply Russian “observers.” These observers had turned out to be nearly the entire crew. The only real exceptions were some Chinese interpreters for their Chinese message traffic.

  The Russian president had, of course, initially denied these sales at all. Then, when the crewing reports surfaced through the CIA, he tried to use the “observer” gambit. The United States had recognized this for what it was—a feeble attempt for Russia to avoid its own war with the United States—and Mack couldn’t help wondering how his own government would respond to this.

  But for now, at least, he didn’t have to worry about it. All he had to do was to carry out his orders and to execute the missions he was tasked with.

  Several days later, as Cheyenne “steamed” past Grande Island inbound to the Subic Bay complex, Mack was saddened at the sight of the once-proud base. The buildings and guest cottages were run down and dilapidated, and even the swimming pool was empty and cracking.

  It was clear that nothing had been done to take care of the Grande Island after the departure of the United States five years before. Mack expected that the same would be true of the airfield at what was once the Cubi Point Naval Air Station. That airfield had once been busy bringing in supplies as well as being the launch and recovery field for carrier-based aircraft leaving and returning to Subic Bay.

  When Cheyenne rounded the point of the airfield and headed for the gaping jaws of the now-flooded-down Arco, Mack saw how right his guess had been. At the sight of jungle growth overrunning the Cubi Point Officers’ Club, Mack felt a wave of nostalgia and regret wash over him, and he was glad that Cheyenne had only two days in the Philippines to reload and resupply.

  Since the refit crew was on board McKee, which was still in transit to Subic Bay, Mack and the executive officer had informed Cheyenne’s crew that they would remain on board, for sleeping and security purposes, until the tender arrived. Seeing the devastation that had occurred since the United States left the Philippines, Mack could see that he had made a wise decision. The CPO and enlisted barracks, as well as the Submarine Sanctuary (where the officers used to partake of rest and recreation), had been looted and destroyed by vandals.

  Captain Mackey had also informed the engineer officer and auxiliary division officer—who also was the SUBSAFE (submarine safety) officer—that Cheyenne would take the opportunity to complete some of the SUBSAFE maintenance requirement card (MRC) inspections. With the ongoing war against the Chinese, these inspections, which could only be completed while in drydock, were in danger of becoming overdue. Taking care of it now, with the drydock capabilities that Arco offered, would ensure that Cheyenne’s SUBSAFE certification remained in force and they would have no restrictions in depth during upcoming operations.

  Maintaining certification during a war was not just a perfunctory administrative paper drill. It was extremely important. The certification meant that the home which protected the men of Cheyenne from the perils of the sea was satisfactory for keeping water out of the “people locker.”

  The SUBSAFE criteria, which began in Cheyenne’s new construction period and continued for the life of the ship, included the capability of various important components to withstand underwater explosive shock without endangering the lives of the crew. Integrity of these components was paramount if the crew was to survive the rigors of enemy attacks and reach the surface safely.

  Mack planned to avoid that situation, of course, but with the reports of seven Akula II SSNs en route to the South China Sea, he knew Cheyenne would have her work cut out for her. And so did her well-informed crew, who set about their inspection duties as soon as the drydock was pumped down.

  The late arrival of McKee meant that Cheyenne would have only one day to reload the vertical-launch tubes with Tomahawk missiles and the torpedo room with Mk 48s. Arco had no capability to reload SSN weapons, other than small-arms ammunition. So far, Cheyenne had not had to resort to that limited method of warfare, and Mack didn’t intend to need them in the near future, either.

  Arco, like all the floating drydocks in the fleet, did not have a formal commanding officer. Drydocks, which were not commissioned as United States ships and so did not receive the “USS” designation, had officers-in-charge instead.

  In talking with Arco’s officer-in-charge, Mack learned that Arco had managed to off-load some Navy Construction Battalion equipment and a small contingent of Seabees at a pleasure boat launch ramp near the Cubi airfields. That would have been very good news if they were on a longer timetable. As it was, repair of the runways would probably be too late for Cheyenne to count on any air support in her upc
oming missions. Besides, Mack thought, deciding to forget about having to coordinate operations with aircraft, even if the Seabees got the runways repaired, it wouldn’t do much good. The supporting infrastructure that had once been at the airfield, as well as the air-traffic controllers and radars, had been spread to other airfields around the world.

  Which was fine with Mack. This was a submarine war; it was Cheyenne’s submarine war. He did appreciate, however, that Arco had brought a replacement screw for Cheyenne. She didn’t need it yet, but there was always the outside chance that Chinese torpedo shrapnel would get close enough to cause damage to the screw. The “singing” screw that could develop from that would limit Cheyenne’s speed, and that was worse than a SUBSAFE depth restriction to one-half test depth. Singing screws were a condition that could not be tolerated even in peacetime.

  Arco also had brought the “ship’s key,” the huge wrench needed to remove and replace the screw’s hub nut.

  The following morning, McKee arrived in Subic Bay under the cover of darkness. She didn’t moor at the sea wall, but instead moored outboard of Arco at the SRF (ship repair facility) just down the street from the old Naval Forces headquarters building. Mack knew that the captain of McKee would consider moving his ship after Cheyenne’s departure, and after his men were able to assess the safety of the previously normal berth for large ships like McKee. Those berths had been unattended for nearly five years, and he would want to be sure of the sea wall’s status, including the mooring bollards, before he felt comfortable enough to moor there for the duration of the war.

  There was another good reason for that choice. As Mack knew, the sea wall was located across the relatively narrow channel from the aircraft carrier mooring at Cubi Point, and tending submarines there had never been done before. In the old days, when the United States was maintaining and operating this base, submarine upkeeps always had been conducted within the SRF gates both for security purposes and because it was near the SRF shops and weapons-storage areas.

  At daylight, McKee slacked its mooring lines to Arco for the flooding down of the drydock and the “dead stick” move of Cheyenne to outboard of McKee. For safety reasons, the two captains agreed not to load weapons while Cheyenne was still inside the drydock.

  When the drydock was flooded and seawater systems were once again flooded and vented of any entrapped air, Cheyenne received the word “prepare to snorkel” and passed it along, internally, over the 1MC. With no current to contend with, this move went smoothly and safely. Cheyenne’s diesel generator provided power to the emergency propulsion motor (EPM) and to the ship’s vital electrical loads, which remained energized during “rig ship for reduced electrical power.” Had this been done in San Diego, without Cheyenne’s reactor power and steam in the engineering spaces, it would have required at least one tug, and maybe two if Cheyenne had needed to make the move at other than slack tide.

  When Cheyenne was positioned properly, the combat systems officer, engineer officer, and their other division officers remained on board Cheyenne to take care of the weapons loading and reactor start-up preparations. Captain Mackey, along with his executive officer, operations officer, and navigator, proceeded to McKee’s war room for their pre-underway briefing.

  There was a new face at this meeting: the CSS 11 commodore was present—which, Mack knew, could mean major changes, or it could mean nothing. Either way, he’d know soon enough.

  Once the formalities were out of the way, the briefing officer again took control of the meeting. He informed Mack and the other officers of Cheyenne that, with McKee no longer requiring air protection from the Carrier Battle Group, CINCPACFLT had decided to move Independence and his other surface forces to an area west of the Spratly Islands. USCINCPAC, with JCS approval, had concurred. Which meant that there would be a change in the location of Cheyenne’s next patrol.

  Mack’s earlier orders had been to patrol south of the islands, but those orders were no longer valid. His new orders were for Cheyenne to transit to a patrol area located about four hundred nautical miles to the north—deep waters with which Cheyenne was now familiar. However, the briefing officer went on, if the inbound Akulas were detected heading for the Paracels, Cheyenne was expected to cut them off before the three Akulas from the North Fleet could resupply.

  Captain Mackey, his executive officer, and Cheyenne’s navigator all knew that this would introduce additional hazards to their mission. At the very least, they would have to contend with the neutral shipping and the oil rigs situated off the northern slopes of the Macclesfield Bank. Cheyenne had managed to avoid those problems during the last patrol by staying south of the banks, but that was no longer an option.

  After relaying that information, the briefing officer brought up some older intel, emphasizing the information contained in Cheyenne’s latest message traffic. In particular, he reminded them that the Akulas were not manned by inexperienced Chinese crews, but had come complete with their normal Russian crews. experienced with their own submarines. And, the briefing officer continued, since the protests from Washington were falling on deaf ears in Russia, Cheyenne was being tasked as an instrument of diplomacy: sink the Akulas and Russia would probably stop supplying assets, ships, and men to the Chinese.

  Mack spoke up at that. With the dwindling supply of torpedoes aboard McKee, the tender was practically rationing them. For this loadout, Cheyenne was receiving only twenty Mk 48s, and while he understood the rationale for it, that amount was far short of a full complement, and not enough to go against all seven Akulas.

  CTF 74 agreed, but he did not authorize more torpedoes for Cheyenne. Instead, he said that if she sank four of the seven Akulas, they would be successful. Losing four new submarines and nearly four hundred of Russia’s best submariners, CTF 74 said, might just fulfill Washington’s diplomatic needs nicely.

  Mack was disappointed. He’d been hoping for a more complete load-out. After all, the Seabees were already at work. Resurfacing the runway at Cubi Point would solve the weapons-reload problem and remove the need for rationing. In the long run, of course, it would do more than that. In the long run, it would solve the whole base resurrection problem.

  Before the briefing was terminated, the executive officer asked about “RuLings” (Russian linguists). The briefing officer replied that the NSG (naval security group) in Yokosuka had provided two RuLings to supplement the “ChiLings” (Chinese linguists) currently with the NSG detachment aboard Cheyenne. They were brought to Subic Bay by Arco. With “hot bunking” the rule for 688s, they were prepared to hot-bunk with their counterparts.

  As the briefing came to an end, the executive officer’s moment arrived. He was preparing to follow Mack and the other officers back to Cheyenne when the CSS 11 commodore stopped him and told him that it was time for his qual for command board.

  This was even better than the executive officer hoped. He was prepared, and he felt he was qualified, but he hadn’t been looking forward to a long and difficult board. And with Cheyenne already stationing the maneuvering watch in preparation for getting under way, there simply wasn’t time for an extended board.

  The board turned out to be even shorter than he’d dreamed. It consisted of the commodore relaying a message from the chief of naval personnel designating him “qualified for command.” The executive officer hadn’t known it, but Cheyenne’s successes and the respect that Washington had for her captain had allowed the chain of command to take a few shortcuts in protocol. The commodore could have placed this on the earlier broadcast, but he hadn’t because he had wanted to surprise the executive officer.

  This didn’t mean that the executive officer was ready to leave Cheyenne for a command of his own. They needed to finish this war with China first so that he could start the command schooling route—which was one protocol that would not be circumvented.

  Cheyenne got under way in a rainsquall. The weather had little effect on the SSN other than limiting visibility during her surface transit to the dive point we
st of the eighty-five-degree water of Subic Bay. Cheyenne’s navigation radar had been tweaked and peaked by the navigation ETs in order to handle this event—providing that no Chinese warships were around to detect the radar’s emissions.

  Mindful of the danger, Mack decided to limit the power on the navigation radar, keeping it to only what was needed to detect the nearby landmasses. That meant that Cheyenne would have to rely on ESM to detect any incoming surface ship radars. Mack was counting on the fact that Subic Bay had become a ghost town, with almost no traffic in and out.

  Subic Bay, it seemed, was about the only place in the area that had little traffic. During dinner that night, as his officers ate quickly, Mack said to them, “We once again have our work cut out for us. With that many quiet Akulas staring us in the face, we’ll need to be innovative in our attacks. We may have to learn how to flush them out. And we won’t have much chance to rest before it’s time to man battle stations.”

  He was right. Sonar had already reported weak tonals from an Akula to the north. As Mack arrived at the conn after dinner, the section fire control tracking party announced that the initial rough range had been established as 75,000 yards. Mack acknowledged the report and ordered the OOD to man battle stations torpedo.

  There was still no sign of the rest of the Russian submarines. Just the one set of low frequency tonals, most likely from an Akula—one with sound shorts to its turbine generator.