by Clancy, Tom
The first raid from Independence consisted of twenty F/A-18 Hornets and seven F-14 Tomcats flying cover. These were also escorted by a single EA-6B Prowler intended to jam Chinese radar, which might otherwise be tracking the attacking jets.
As soon as the F/A-18s closed to within one hundred miles of their target, they switched on their APG-73 radars. Prior to this they had been relying on information from the E-2Cs and the F-14s, which carried a new passive infrared search-and-track system, to alert them to any changes in the Chinese operation.
But the Chinese, though reeling from the Tomahawks, weren’t finished yet. They had indeed learned from their earlier air assault, and as soon as the EA-6Bs ALQ-99 radar jammer began jamming their ground radar on the Spratly Islands, they launched their secret weapon—air defense fighters. Sixteen SU-27 Flankers and over thirty J-7s, Chinese variants of the MiG-21, lifted off from their tiny bases in the small islands of the Spratlys.
The F-14s’ radar detected the swarms of Chinese fighters as soon as they lifted off into the air. Approximately two hundred miles from the carrier Independence and just over one hundred fifty miles from the Spratlys, the F/A-18s began picking up speed in order to target their Harpoon missiles at the Chinese fleet before the enemy fighters arrived on the scene.
The F/A-18s formed single-file lines and began launching two Harpoon missiles apiece. After firing, they turned and flew back toward Independence to refuel and rearm.
Before the F/A-18s returned, Independence launched some of the fighters she normally kept in reserve. Six more F-14s and four F/A-18s began racing from the decks of the carrier in an effort to join in the fight.
The F-14s escorting the strike group attacked the Chinese fighters first. Each of the F-14s was armed with four long-range Phoenix missiles, two medium-range AMRAAMs, and two short-range Sidewinders. The F/A-18s flying in to assist had been fitted with four AMRAAMs and two Sidewinders apiece. As soon as the first SU-27s entered within 120 miles of the F-14s, the first wave of AIM-54C Phoenix missiles were launched at the oncoming Chinese aircraft.
The success of Independence and her aircraft was, ironically, making things more difficult for Cheyenne. Relying solely on her sonar, she was having a difficult time attempting to grasp what was going on above her. Explosion after explosion from the direction of the Chinese task force told Mack that the American aircraft had begun their attack, but he would have to wait until the noises died down to figure out how many ships were left and which submarines he would target.
Mack had just begun what he thought would be a long wait when sonar reported active sonar from a submarine contact. The continuing loud explosions made it nearly impossible to determine the range. The underwater sonar environment was difficult to interpret using only passive sonar—but Mack refused to use his active suite; he knew it would give away his position.
“Conn, sonar, we just got the classification of that submarine that was active,” the sonar supervisor said. “It’s an Akula!”
That got Mack’s attention.
Within minutes, the fire-control coordinator reported, “Range to the Akula, Master 105, is 33,000 yards; she must have snuck up on us during the air attack.”
He was probably right, but that didn’t make Mack feel any better. Letting the Akula get that close was a mistake, and Mack knew he had to make up for it. To do that, he had to maneuver Cheyenne closer to the Akula.
Overhead, the barrage of explosions continued, indicating that the immense carrier attack had still not ended.
Slowly Cheyenne increased speed to six knots and began proceeding in the direction of the Akula, the quietest non-friendly submarine in the world. The only good thing, from Mack’s perspective, was that the Chinese Akula was still pinging away. Their Russian-made passive sonar was worthless in the current underwater environment, and the only way they could detect contacts was to use their active sonar.
“Range to Master 105 is now 28,000 yards,” reported the fire-control coordinator.
“Firing point procedures, tubes one and two, Master 105,” responded Mack.
Both tube outer doors were already opened and ready, and because the Akula was using her active sonar they now had an accurate firing solution on the Chinese submarine.
“Match sonar bearings and shoot, tubes one and two, Master 105,” ordered Mack.
The two Mk 48s were fired in the direction of the Akula and Mack kept the guidance wires attached for as long as possible. He didn’t want these torpedoes to miss.
As the Mk 48s left their tubes and closed the distance to the enemy submarine, the sonar room and combat systems officer provided continuous updates on their status. The final updates came after ten minutes.
“Conn, sonar, two explosions in the water, bearing 079. The Mk 48s just detonated.”
Mack acknowledged the report, but he wasn’t as elated as he’d have liked. He’d made a mistake, and against a better opponent that mistake could have been deadly.
He wondered how things were going on the surface, and whether any of the other American captains had made similar mistakes.
They hadn’t. Not a single shot had gotten through Independence’s defenses.
Of the attacking Chinese fleet, not a single surface ship remained undamaged. The few surviving Chinese sailors had been forced to abandon their sinking warships and drifted in lifeboats. Around them, strewn in an unorganized pattern in between many of the small ships, lay the remnants of the Chinese fighters and their air defense effort, which had attempted to stop the American antishipping attack. The Chinese action had failed—miserably.
The Americans attacked the Chinese ships and aircraft so effectively that not one American fighter had been lost. Thirty-four high-performance Chinese aircraft were destroyed in the battle, along with eighteen surface ships. Now the hope of the Chinese navy lay with their six remaining submarines: three Romeos, two Mings, and one Kilo.
The explosions had stopped and, with the exception of the occasional Chinese ship sinking beneath the waves, the water was again quiet beneath the South China Sea. As the background noise faded, Cheyenne was once again able to use her passive sonar and to begin to build a picture of what they faced.
“Conn, sonar, we’ve got numerous sonar contacts—probable submarines. We can’t tell quite how many at this point, but it’s definitely more than two. The contacts sound like they may be operating close together.”
“Sonar, conn, aye.”
Mack had made one mistake based on overconfidence. He wasn’t about to do that again.
“Okay,” he said to the communicator, “let’s get some help here. Draft a message to Bremerton and the SEC (submarine element coordinator). Ask them if they could give us a hand with these numerous submarine contacts.”
Fifteen minutes later, word was sent to Bremerton. Cheyenne’s sister submarine, upon receipt of the message over her floating wire and concurrence of the SEC, began running at flank speed in an effort to meet up with Mack and his crew.
The Chinese diesel submarine captains knew that they were in trouble. Once their refueling points were destroyed, they’d lost all hope of striking a significant blow against the Americans. Without the chance to fully fill their diesel fuel tanks at their base in the Spratlys, each of the submarines was running low both on fuel and on battery power.
Communicating with each other as quietly as possible, they all agreed that their best chance now was to simply try to survive. A slow, quiet run for their home waters might get them back to mainland China. If they were lucky. But, as Mack had found out earlier, luck was a fickle, fragile thing, and never to be counted on.
Once Bremerton arrived on the scene in her assigned depth zone, she established communications with Cheyenne via underwater telephone. That allowed Mack to pass the word that a large Chinese submarine group had been detected some distance away and that the Chinese group had begun to head back in the direction of China, bearing 010.
Bremerton and Cheyenne conferred and laid their plans. Then
they separated, Bremerton on course 300 and Cheyenne on course 040. The two American submarines had begun stalking their prey.
One by one, Cheyenne and Bremerton found the fleeing diesels. The Chinese submarines, however, were so low on battery power that they could put up no fight at all. Mack found it almost like shooting at anchored ships. All the Chinese could do in defense of their lives was to launch a few decoys. The decoys failed, and after they had run out there was nothing left for the Chinese captains to do but just wait, one by one, until they were destroyed by the American submarines.
The last submarine to be attacked by Cheyenne was the venerable Kilo, and her captain gave it all he had. In a last-ditch, desperate attempt, he tried to surface after Cheyenne had launched her torpedo.
His efforts were noble, but they were doomed. The Mk 48 followed the Kilo, Master 111, all the way up before blowing a hole in the boat’s stern and sending it straight back to the bottom.
Mack and his crew on board Cheyenne had never had a mission like this. Three submarines had been destroyed by Bremerton and four by Cheyenne in this one action alone. Independence and her Battle Group had, during this battle, destroyed over sixty ships and submarines, more than thirty aircraft, and inflicted irreparable damage on the military installations on the Spratly Islands. The tide in the war against China had now turned completely in America’s favor.
But Mack didn’t take much satisfaction in that. He knew that glory faded quickly, and tides had a way of turning when you least expected it.
12.
Strait Up
The battle royale was over. Mack still could not believe the losses that Independence and her entire group had inflicted upon the Chinese. That battle, he was sure, would go down in history as the single most one-sided battle in naval history.
Cheyenne was currently running at periscope depth, with new information on their latest orders coming in over SSIXS. As soon as the new orders were decoded and printed out, Mack took them and went directly to his stateroom, where he could look at them and analyze the details of his upcoming mission in a quiet surrounding without any distractions.
As soon as Mack finished reading the new orders, he called a meeting in the wardroom with Cheyenne’s executive officer, the communicator, the combat systems officer, the navigator, and the sonar officer.
Within minutes, the officers Mack had requested were waiting in the wardroom. As Mack entered, all conversation cut off abruptly.
“Gentlemen,” Mack said, “I have just received our new orders. We have been tasked to detach from the Independence Battle Group and head north. We will have a long transit of over one thousand miles ahead of us. Our destination is the Formosa Strait, in between China and Taiwan.” Mack paused to let that last sentence sink in.
“Let me fill you in on what’s been going on in the world around us. Things have been going very well for the United States. Jiang Zemin, the Chinese president who was overthrown in the July coup, has recently surfaced in Taiwan after the USS Seawolf smuggled him out of mainland China.”
Mack knew that would come as a surprise to his officers. He gave them a moment to absorb that and then continued, “Cheyenne has been asked to ’delouse’ and reconnoiter the Formosa Strait so that Jiang can be transported back to China when the moment for him to return to power arrives.”
Mack looked around at the officers present, making eye contact with each of them. “Naval intelligence does not have a firm grasp on what type of enemy warships are in the area. They are expecting large numbers of Luda destroyers and possibly several very dangerous Akula or Kilo submarines. Naval intelligence also reports that large areas of the Formosa Strait are heavily mined, so let’s watch our step.”
On that cautionary note, Mack concluded the meeting and the officers went back to their previous duties.
As Cheyenne pulled away from the Independence Battle Group, Mack thought about the dangers of this new mission. He and his crew had not had much experience with encountering naval mines, but he knew that they presented a great threat to all naval vessels, including submarines. During the 1991 Persian Gulf War, the only naval casualties the U.S. suffered came from two inexpensive and low-technology mines. It was an ironic twist on modern warfare, thought Mack, that a mine costing a few thousand dollars could sink a billion-dollar submarine like Cheyenne if the mine were to come into contact with her hull.
As soon as the meeting in the wardroom was complete, Cheyenne began her long trip north from Independence. USS Bremerton would be leaving the South China Sea and returning to the Indian Ocean. USS Columbia would stay with the Independence Battle Group, acting as ASW escort, in the same SSN(DS) role Cheyenne had played so many times.
“Make your depth four hundred feet,” Mack said.
“Make my depth four hundred feet, aye, sir,” the OOD said, acknowledging the order.
“Speed twelve knots,” Mack added. This order was also repeated.
There was no emergency rush for Cheyenne to get to the Formosa Strait. Safety was Mack’s primary concern. He would much rather get to his destination slowly and quietly than to arrive there after having to fight his way up north.
Besides, Mack didn’t want to announce his position to the Chinese navy. The strait between China and Taiwan was their home waters, and held the threat of warships coming from all directions. There were four Chinese naval bases within range of Mack’s destination. Each of those bases could send submarines, attack craft, or destroyers and aircraft after Cheyenne if they knew she was in their waters.
Which meant, Mack knew, that he would have to be sure that they didn’t find out Cheyenne was there.
Mack had expected the entire cruise to take slightly more than four days. At the end of the third day, Cheyenne had passed Zhanjiang Naval Base in southern China and was approaching Hong Kong exactly on schedule. So far, she had not detected a single Chinese naval contact, possibly because the Chinese navy was still regrouping after their humiliating loss to the Americans south of the Spratly Islands.
That string ended at the end of the third day.
“Conn, sonar,” the sonar supervisor reported. “We have a sonar contact bearing 200. Sounds like a surface ship.”
Mack was in the control room when the report came in. He decided that the contact was probably coming from a ship from the naval base directly to their southwest. The normal watch station BSY-1 operators started examining the information to attempt to determine the range to the contact.
“Conn, sonar,” the sonar supervisor said, “we have active sonars indicating that there are two Hainan fast attack craft—high—frequency sonars.”
With the section fire-control tracking party manned, the BSY-1 computers began to get the information needed to determine Cheyenne’s range to the targets.
“Conn, sonar, the active sonars are very far away. This is very probably a convergence-zone contact. According to our calculations, they are pinging from over thirty nautical miles away.”
“Sonar, conn, aye,” responded Mack for the OOD. “Keep tracking those contacts.”
Mack didn’t intend to do anything about the Hainans—not unless he had to. He still wanted to stay silent and undetected, if possible. On the other hand, he couldn’t afford to arrive at their destination tailed by a bunch of angry Chinese patrol craft.
Mack needn’t have worried—at the moment, anyway. The Chinese patrol craft knew nothing of Cheyenne’s transit north. They had gone active to test out their equipment, not because they suspected there was a U.S. SSN in the area. The Chinese craft, built in the early 1960s, had recently been fitted with a new active sonar and their captains often enjoyed using this during training exercises. Their upcoming mission, however, was anything but a training exercise. The two Chinese Hainan class fast attack craft had been fully loaded with twelve mines, and when they reached their assigned location they would begin deploying these naval mines from their mine rails. After they had evaluated their new sonars, the Chinese captains would continue on their
assigned mission.
After fifteen minutes of tracking the Hainan attack craft, Cheyenne’s sonars lost contact with the two Chinese boats. They reacquired the two patrol craft as Cheyenne began to enter the strait.
Mack had gone back to the sonar room. After reporting the contacts to the OOD, the sonar supervisor said, “Captain, we’ve just acquired the two Chinese craft again. They must have gone up the eastern coast of China. Bearing is 355.”
Mack went back to the control room. “Do you have the range to the Chinese active sonars yet?” Mack asked.
“Not yet, Captain, but we should have it ready soon,” the OOD answered. He had worked hard with his section fire-control tracking party, perfecting their technique, and he was proud of them.
Less than a minute later the section fire-control tracking party had an answer to Mack’s question.
“Range is 68,000 yards, Captain.”
“Conn, sonar, our Chinese contacts have stopped pinging, sir,” the sonar supervisor said. “I’ll bet that they’re laying mines.”
The two Chinese craft were nearly forty miles to the north of Cheyenne. One by one their Russian-designed MAG moored contact mines were pushed over and dropped into the water via the mine rails aboard the small craft. These mines were based on technology that was nearly one hundred years old, but they still presented a serious threat to Cheyenne.
“Mark that area as a minefield,” Mack said, pointing to the area on the plotting table where they believed the Chinese ships to be operating. “If at all possible, we want to stay clear of that zone.”
“Aye, Captain,” said the auxiliary electrician forward as he looked up from his plot. He was the plotter for his watch section, and, like all the sailors on board Cheyenne, he took pride in his performance and his professionalism.
