Operation White Out, page 26
On day three of the transit at the end of Seth’s watch, Sonar called.
“Conn, Sonar. We have an intermittent contact to the north. It sounds like a warship, but it’s too indistinct to get any information. It’s really difficult to pick out from all the small ship traffic ahead of us.”
I stepped into Sonar to see what was going on. First-class Petty Officer Godfry Mason was the supervisor.
“What’s up, Godfry?” I asked.
“Look at this shit,” he said, pointing to the two passive consoles. “These guys have twenty to thirty contacts and passing them back and forth as they cross our centerline.”
“Are you designating each contact?”
“Only the ones that might become a problem,” Mason said. “We’re up to Sierra-one-oh-one right now.”
“Give the possible warship a number and try to keep track of her. She’s probably up in the Solomons, seven hundred or so miles from here. I think you’re hearing her through a sound channel. There’s a bunch of warships up there undertaking an exercise. This could be an Aussie destroyer out of Brisbane heading north to join those guys.”
“Aye, Sir.” He picked up the mike. “Conn, Sonar, designate the intermittent contact Sierra-one-zero-two.”
“Have you heard anything from Sierra-eight-nine—Chángzhēng three?”
“No, Sir, nothing. We’re keeping a sharp ear out, but nothing since Campbell Island.”
“Thanks.” I left Sonar.
USS TEUTHIS—CORAL SEA
Three and a half days later, we arrived at the southern edge of the Coral Sea. If you were to look down on our position from above, you would see no difference between the Tasman and Coral Seas. What sets the Coral Sea apart is that it is defined by a deep basin bordered to the north by the Solomon Islands, to the east by a deep trench and an extension of the Solomons, and to the west by Australia.
We were surrounded by dozens of vessels of all kinds. Sonar was keeping track of those most likely to affect us: trawlers with potentially deep nets, possible surface warships, and submarines, which we had not detected since leaving Campbell Island.
I went to Sickbay to see Sergyi and found Joey sitting next to him. “How’re you feeling, my friend?”
“Been better, Mac. Leg just not healing.”
He had a worried look on his face, something I had not seen before. I sat down on the other side of the bed from Joey.
“Sergyi, I’m sure Joey has kept you up to date on our progress. Let me fill you in a bit. We’re entering the Coral Sea. In four days, we will have passed through the Solomon Islands and will meet up with an American flotilla that also includes several warships from other friendly nations. One of those ships will be the USS Pigeon.”
“That mother-ship of Mystic, right?”
I nodded. “Yes, and Avalon too.” I grinned. “We will transfer lots of ChiCom sailors from Hi Bào to Pigeon. But the big thing is that we will transfer you to Pigeon, and from there to a long-range chopper and a trip to Guam. They will either fix you up at the naval hospital or medivac you to the States.”
“What about me?” Joey asked.
“I’m requesting that the Navy assign you TDY27 to Sergyi for the duration. He will need somebody—it might as well be you.”
USS TEUTHIS—SOLOMON ISLANDS
In three days, we were running the gap between San Cristobal and Lata. Sonar was nearly overwhelmed with continuous contacts, but we were running at 1,200 feet, and Hi Bào and the tanker at 800 feet. There was virtually no chance that one of us would become entangled in any trawler’s nets.
Franklin took us into the gap. On his next watch, twenty-four hours later, he slowed to bare steerageway. Our depth was 1,200 feet; we were at the rendezvous location. The skipper came to the periscope stand.
“Officer-of-the-Deck,” he ordered formally, “take us to five hundred feet or above the layer, whichever is shallower.”
Franklin gave the order to the Diving Officer, Senior Chief Jackson. Then he called Sonar.
“Sonar, Conn. As we come up, keep an eye on the thermocline. Let me know when we pass through it.”
The sub rose through the water column, creaking as the metal expanded. At 450 feet, Sonar called.
“Conn, Sonar. We just passed through the thermocline. I have a bunch of new contacts. I’m sorting them out now.”
“Diving Officer, what is your depth?” Franklin asked Jackson.
“Four-four-five feet, Sir.”
“Make your depth four-four-five feet, Rusty,” Franklin ordered.
“Conn, Sonar. I have a bunch of contacts. The immediately important ones are a warship off our starboard bow, an unknown sub off our starboard beam, we’ve regained Sierra-eight-nine, Chángzhēng three, intermittently off our starboard beam, Haddo in our starboard quarter, Omaha in our port quarter, an unknown vessel off our port beam, and a warship off our port bow. I’ll update with details as soon as I have them.”
I stepped into Sonar. Petty Officer Sportsman had his hands full. I picked up a phone and called King. “We need you in Sonar, King,” I told him.
King showed up a few minutes later and helped Sportsman sort things out. When he was ready, Sportsman called Control.
“Conn, Sonar. Here are the updates. New contact off starboard bow, designate Sierra-one-six-two, is USS Elliot (DD-967); she is treading water at two miles. Contact off starboard beam is USS Omaha, Sierra-nine-zero; she’s hovering at two miles. Intermittent contact off starboard beam is Sierra-eight-nine, Chángzhēng three, estimated range thirty miles, closing. Contact in starboard quarter is USS Haddo, Sierra-nine-one; she’s hovering at two miles. New contact in port quarter, designate Sierra-one-six-three, is USS Houston; she’s also hovering at two miles. New contact off port beam, designate Sierra-one-six-four, is USS Pigeon (ASR-21); she’s treading water at two miles. New contact off port bow, designate Sierra-one-six-five, is USS California (CGN-36); she’s traveling in a small circle at two miles.”
“Sonar, Conn. Please step out to Plot to ensure we have plotted the contacts accurately.”
“Sonar, aye…Conn, Sonar. Sierra-eight-nine, Chángzhēng three, has just increased speed to flank! That should be about thirty knots. If she maintains her speed, she’ll be here in one hour.”
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27 Temporary Duty
Teuthis, Hi Bào, and Qiántng Yóuchuán Èr at the rendezvous point 230 nm from San Cristobal. Omaha, Haddo, and Houston form a screen to the east and south, California screens to the west and north, Elliot screens to the north, and Pigeon stands by to remove personnel from Teuthis and Hi Bào. Chángzhēng 3 is approaching 25 nm to the east. Submarine Contact S-166 (Wuhan Class) is approaching 25 nm to the northwest.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
PacEx89
USS TEUTHIS—RENDEZVOUS POINT
The skipper occupied his chair on the periscope stand. Teuthis was surrounded by protection, but the ChiCom fast-attack was less than thirty miles away and closing rapidly. I hung out at Plot as Waverly assumed the watch from Franklin.
“How the hell did this guy find us?” Waverly asked.
“The ChiCom captain is not an idiot,” I responded. “He knew our ultimate destination. When he lost us south of Campbell, I guess he hightailed to this area, knowing that we were limited to ten knots. Chángzhēng three must have picked up something from the nine ships and subs inside the sixteen square mile plot of ocean we occupy. The subs are silent, but California, Elliot, and Pigeon must put out a lot of noise collectively.”
I got on the Secure Gertrude.
“USS Pigeon, this is USS Teuthis, over.”
To my surprise, we received an almost immediate response.
“This is Pigeon. We are DIW at the rendezvous point. Please rise to three hundred feet and hold your position. Inform Pigeon when you are there.”
I turned to see the skipper standing beside me. He handed me written instructions. I picked up the Secure Gertrude mike.
“This is Teuthis, Roger. Be aware that we carry Mystic docked to our after hatch. As soon as you are ready, we will launch Mystic with three passengers, Teuthis Executive Officer, Commander Mac McDowell, gravely wounded DIA Operator, Sergyi Andreev, and his medical attendant, Navy Lieutenant Jolene Kaper.”
“Conn, Sonar. We have a new contact broad off the port bow, designate Sierra-one-six-six. This contact seems to be closing and has suppressed cavitation.”
I was at the plot table, waiting to report to Mystic, when Sonar made this announcement. S-166 was in the general direction we would be taking when we were finished with our business at our present location. Waverly took action to let Sonar gather more info.
“Senior Chief Dokey, lower the outboards and bring our heading to zero-four-five.”
King had the Sonar Watch. A few minutes later, he stepped out to Plot to speak with me.
“Mac, this sub is something new. She has many of the characteristics of an old Russian Romeo Class, but she’s got something else. Can you come to Sonar and take a look at her?”
We returned to Sonar, where King pulled out a book and showed me a printout. “This is what a Romeo looks like,” he said.
“That’s a Russian Romeo,” I said. “Do you have anything on the Chinese version, the Wuhan Class?”
“Yeah, here,” King said, opening another volume. The lines were similar to the Romeo, but there were differences.
“The Wuhan was somewhat quieter,” I said.
“Here’s the printout from Sierra-one-six-six. See this group of lines?” He pulled out the patrol binder and opened it to a printout he had made of Hi Bào, and pointed to a set of lines. “These lines,” he said, “are nearly identical to these lines,” pointing to the strange lines on his printout of S-166. “Could this be a Wuhan with AIP propulsion?”
“Neither the ChiComs nor the Soviets have anything like that,” I said, digging into my personal store of knowledge. “South Korea is working with us on PacEx eighty-nine, so we would know about anything they have out here. That leaves only one reasonable option.”
“The DPRK,” King said.
“Yep, North Korea,” I said. “How far out is she?”
“Twenty-eight miles,” King answered.
I picked up the phone and called the periscope stand. The skipper answered.
“It’s Mac, Skipper. Can you come to Sonar? King needs to show you something.”
When the skipper entered Sonar, King walked him through our determination.
“So, you think Sierra-one-sixty-six is a Wuhan Class—basically a Romeo—with an AIP drive?” the skipper asked.
“Yes, Sir,” King answered. “Not as capable as our three SSNs, but it’s quiet and dangerous.”
“His presence here and now,” I added, “points to ChiCom-DPRK collusion.”
“I concur,” the skipper said. “King, do you know whether California and Elliot have Secure Gertrude?”
“Wait one, Cap’n,” King said and grabbed a volume of US Surface ships. He paged to California and then Elliot. “No, Sir. Neither has it.”
“Mac,” the skipper said, “get on the horn and notify Pigeon. Have her inform California, and Elliot by secure radio.”
One of the sonar watchstanders said, “King, Chángzhēng three just slowed. She’s barely movin’.”
Just then, both watchstanders ripped off their headsets as a loud ping sounded right through our hull. The lead watchstander re-donned his headset and listened for several seconds.
“Chángzhēng three is gone—vanished, just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “Omaha transmitted the ping.”
“Chángzhēng three just dropped below the thermocline,” King said.
The skipper stuck his head out the Sonar door. “Officer-of-the-Deck, drop down to six hundred feet rapidly.”
Teuthis immediately began dropping, creaking loudly as we dropped. As soon as we penetrated the thermocline, the watchstander announced, “Chángzhēng three reacquired. He’s opening rapidly.”
King was scribbling on a notepad, glancing at a stopwatch. “At the time of the ping,” he said, “Chángzhēng three was five miles away.”
USS TEUTHIS—CAT & MOUSE
The skipper and I joined Waverly at the periscope stand where the skipper placed himself in his chair. Waverly had sonar’s sound feed on the speaker. Rapid multiple screws poured through the speaker, followed by, “Conn, Sonar. Elliot just laid on significant speed and is headed toward Chángzhēng three.”
The warbling echo of active sonar burst from the speaker. “She’s gone active, Conn.”
Several minutes later, “Elliot should arrive at Chángzhēng three’s last position in about fifteen minutes.”
Five minutes after that, “Conn, Sonar. California just put on speed and is heading toward Sierra-one-six-six.”
A fainter second active sonar signal joined the first. “California’s gone active, Conn.”
The skipper walked over to Plot, leaning over the chart next to Chief Quartermaster Fonzarelli. Fonzarelli had placed small plastic markers at each vessel’s position and was moving them as Sonar supplied updates.
“Conn, Sonar. Houston just got underway, heading for Sierra-one-six-six.”
“What does that mean, Captain?” Fonzarelli asked.
“It looks like California and Houston are trying to herd the DPRK sub away from us,” the Skipper answered.
The only sounds in Control were the quiet surging of the planes and steering hydraulics and the 400 Hz hum from the Attack Center just outboard of Plot.
“Conn, Sonar. Sierra-one-six-six just slowed to bare steerageway.”
“The DPRK sub just figured out what is happening,” Fonzarelli said, almost in a whisper.
Over the speaker, California’s ping rate doubled. I looked at the skipper.
“Conn, Sonar. California has acquired Sierra-one-six-six.”
“That sonofabitch gonna have to change her skivvies,” Fonzarelli said. “Don’t wanna be them, that’s for sure.”
USS TEUTHIS—CONSEQUENCES
“Conn, Sonar. Sierra-one-six-six just went to flank!”
I looked at the skipper and stepped into Sonar. King stood in the center of the room holding a plastic grease-pencil plot. He wore a headset with one ear exposed. I looked at his plot. S-166 and Houston seemed to be headed directly toward each other.
“Houston has got to be smart enough to maintain depth separation,” I said.
King held up one finger, tapping his headset. “Houston just went to a crashback!28 She’s in trouble!”
Over the Sonar speaker, I heard powerful cavitation caused when Houston fully reversed the direction of her screw followed by a screeching, metallic rending. Immediately following this, I clearly heard Houston emergency blow her main ballast tanks. Thereafter, I heard what sounded like another emergency blow, fainter, and it truncated about halfway through. Two minutes later, the distinctive sounds of a pressure hull imploding filled the Sonar Shack.
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28 A ship or sub reversing forward motion to back full. First the vessel will slow and stop, shuddering mightily all the while, and then it will accelerate backward as rapidly as possible.
Teuthis, Hi Bào, and Qiántng Yóuchuán Èr transit from the rendezvous point northeast of the Solomon Islands to Guam
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Micronesia
USS TEUTHIS—AFTERMATH
Waverly and King joined me in the skipper’s cabin. The skipper sat in his easy chair, Waverly and King on the couch, and I took the desk chair, turned backward, my arms folded over the back. Seth had the watch in Control. The phone rang. The skipper listened for more than a minute. Then he hung up the phone and looked at us.
“Houston’s bow is badly damaged, and her Torpedo Room is taking on water. She’s at a hundred feet on a slow bell, pumping water and keeping ahead of the flooding. She has an unknown number of casualties. Pigeon will be at her location in thirty minutes to transfer wounded personnel. Obviously, the DPRK sub is beyond saving.” He placed a cassette recorder on the arm of his chair and turned to King. “King, walk us through what happened from your perspective.”
King proceeded to retell everything that had happened in Sonar since we had arrived at the beginning of Waverly’s watch. He finished by saying, “We recorded a high-speed tape of the DPRK sub, including her trying to emergency surface and then sinking and imploding. We can slow it down and enhance it. We should be able to extract more detail.”
“Waverly,” the skipper said, nodding at him.
Waverly told the story as he experienced it as OOD. The only significant differences from King’s tale were his actions as OOD.
The skipper turned to me. “Mac, please relate the events as you saw them.”
I had nothing new to add, but endeavored to give a complete and accurate retelling from my perspective. This was smart of the skipper. Getting our thoughts and recollections on tape right after the incident would certainly help the full investigation that would take place later.
“Mac,” the skipper said, “have Seth move us close to Pigeon and Houston. While Pigeon is in rescue mode, we can transport Sergyi and Joey.”
I left his cabin and got on the Secure Gertrude. “Pigeon, this is Teuthis. Are you capable of handling two DSRVs simultaneously?”
“This is Pigeon. What do you have in mind?”
“This is Teuthis. We will approach your location and launch Mystic with three passengers: Teuthis Executive Officer, Commander Mac McDowell, gravely wounded DIA Operator, Sergyi Andreev, and his medical attendant, Navy Lieutenant Jolene Kaper. Andreev and Kaper will remain on Pigeon awaiting medevac. Commander McDowell will meet with and brief Pigeon CO.”
“This is Pigeon. We will prep for Mystic arrival. Please hover at two-zero-zero feet upon arrival and inform us when you are ready to launch Mystic.”
USS TEUTHIS & USS PIGEON—DSRV OPS
From the periscope stand I called Sickbay. Joey answered.
