Shattered Trident (60 page)

Guam

“Attention on deck!” shouted Captain Jacobs. The assembled group quickly came to attention as Simonis and Patterson walked into the conference room.

“As you were,” Simonis boomed. The commodore marched straight up to the podium; he wasted no time in getting the predeployment briefing started.

“My apologies for the late hour of this briefing, but it was unavoidable. As you know, Dr. Patterson has been jumping from boat to boat getting the special weapons prepared and loaded into the torpedo tubes. As her presence was absolutely necessary, we had to wait until she had finished inserting all the PAL codes and had witnessed all the torpedoes being locked in their tubes before we could drag her away for some dinner. I may be able to flog you guys like rented mules, but I have to be a little more lenient with senior administration officials.”

The audience’s laugh was genuine, and Joanna just shrugged her shoulders. Simonis then punched a few buttons and brought up the first briefing slide on the large-screen display. In big, bold letters, the slide was titled
OPERATION MINERVA
. A low murmur grew from the crowd, along with some snickering.

“All right, pay attention. ‘Operation Minerva’ is the code name for the deployment of eight modified Mark 48 torpedoes with nuclear warheads in the deep-ocean areas adjacent to the South and East China Seas. And I don’t want to hear any guff about the name. I don’t write this crap, so we’ll just have to suffer together. Some faceless bureaucrat named the operation after the Roman goddess of useful knowledge and wisdom—which would be apropos given the goal of this mission. Now, moving on…”

Jerry was following along with the copy of Simonis’s presentation in his briefing binder, but as he turned to the page, he found a single sheet of paper sitting on top of the second slide. It was a hard copy of an e-mail from ONI concerning the commanding officer of INS
Chakra
. Jerry eagerly began reading its contents. Simonis’s voice faded into the background.

Samant, Girish, CAPT, Indian Navy

•
Graduated from Indian Naval Academy in 1995

•
Extensive junior officer tours on Project 877E KILO-class submarines, as weapons officer and navigator

•
Member of Indian Navy Klub missile acceptance team

•
First Officer INS
Sindhuvir,
S 58

•
Graduated from Kings College, Department of War Studies, United Kingdom in 2010

•
Commanding Officer, INS
Sindhukirti,
S 61

•
Completed Royal Navy Submarine Command Course “Perisher” in 2014

•
First Indian submariner to complete the course

•
Promoted to Captain in 2015

•
Assigned as INS
Chakra
Commanding Officer in June 2015

•
Strengths: Brilliant tactician, competitive, rated highly by “Perisher” instructor

•
Weaknesses: Short-tempered, slightly egotistical

Jerry’s eyebrows rose when he read the line about completing the Perisher course. When he got to the part where it said the Indian was highly rated, he whistled softly and whispered, “Whoa!”

Thigpen heard his skipper and looked over with curiosity. Jerry gave him a stern look and waved a finger at him, signaling that he should be paying attention to the commodore. One of them had to, but at the moment Jerry was busy getting to know Mr. Samant.

After finishing the e-mail, Jerry immediately ran through the three encounters he’d had with the Indian captain. Everything in the ONI e-mail matched his impressions. Samant was as good as Jerry suspected. No, scratch that. If a Royal Navy Perisher Teacher thought he was good, then the Indian was
damn
good! It suddenly became obvious that Jerry had seriously underestimated the man during the last two meetings.
Which is why I lost
, he thought to himself.

The rest of the briefing was basically a blur for Jerry. His mind was elsewhere, in the middle of the South China Sea, and focused on a very capable adversary. Strangely, Jerry felt encouraged by the e-mail. He now had something to work with, a man’s identity, an idea of his capabilities. Information Jerry could use to begin planning for their next encounter. And he was absolutely convinced there would be another.

Suddenly, Jerry was jerked back to the predeployment briefing by Simonis’s loud voice. He was a little shocked to find out he’d missed all of Joanna’s presentation. Chagrined, he looked over at Thigpen’s steno pad and saw his XO had taken copious notes.

“L-hour is tomorrow at 1200 local time,” Simonis announced. “Commander Mitchell,
North Dakota
sorties first. You’ve got the farthest to go and you’ll have to fly at flank speed for a good portion of your transit.”

Jerry nodded as he acknowledged the order. “Understood, Commodore.”

“Commander Nevens,
North Carolina
will leave four hours later. Followed by
Texas
and
Oklahoma City
. In seventy-two hours you have to be in the launch boxes articulated by Dr. Patterson. H-hour is 1200 local time on 18 September. At precisely that time, each submarine will fire two nuclear-armed torpedoes on the assigned courses and at medium speed. You’ll then promptly put your ass to the blast, come shallow, and run like hell. Clear?”

“Yes, sir!” answered the four commanding officers.

“Very well,” replied Simonis. “Now I suggest you finish up any preparations you may have left before you deploy tomorrow. I’ve augmented the duty staff and they’ll assist you with whatever you need. Just call and get things moving, we’ll follow up with the paperwork later. Any questions?”

There were none.

“All right, I’ll see you all tomorrow morning at
Santa Fe
’s memorial service. Afterwards, we’ll honor our shipmates by ending this war. Dismissed!”

14 September 2016

1800 Local Time

By Water

Halifax, Nova Scotia

The Great Pacific War of 2016

Posted By: Mac

Subj: New—Book Review:
Navies for Asia
by Dr. Sajin Komamura

One of the most vexing issues about the current conflict in the seas surrounding China is how did it start? At the time, it seemed to spring forth out of nowhere. And while we know a little more now about the opening moves—Operation Trident, the mining of
Liaoning,
the sinking of
Vinaship Sea
—there is still a gap in our understanding of the intent, the motivation behind the war. Well, I’m ashamed to admit that the impetus behind the formation of the Littoral Alliance, as well as its covert submarine war, was right under my nose, available months before the first shots were fired.

A careful examination of the official statements and military strategy of the Littoral Alliance will show they are in perfect harmony with a recent book written by Dr. Sajin Komamura, an economics and history professor at the University of Tokyo. Dr. Komamura’s book,
Navies for Asia,
is a masterpiece of argumentation as to why the nations surrounding the Chinese littorals need to band together, in a formal alliance, to resist the aggressive tendencies of the People’s Republic of China. Furthermore, Dr. Komamura strongly believes this alliance must be free from the restrictions affiliated with existing security agreements with the United States, whose national interests are not necessarily in concert with Asian countries’.

Dr. Komamura’s formal argument is quite powerful and explains fully how the Littoral Alliance came into being. And yet for all its brilliance, there are two fatal flaws that seemed to have gone totally undetected by senior civilian and military officials of the nations within the Littoral Alliance. The first flaw is an assumption made by Dr. Komamura, and to his credit it is an explicit one, that a military conflict with China is inevitable. This is a powerful, and insidious assumption, as it predisposes the alliance away from investigating the potential uses of their collective diplomatic and economic power. Indeed, while Dr. Komamura extols many of the “virtues of the NATO alliance” in Europe, he misses several key political and diplomatic aspects of that alliance that effectively helped deter a war with the Soviet Union.

The second flaw deals with the total exclusion of the United States from their alliance. I’m Canadian, and there are times when my neighbor to the south aggravates me with their policies. However, in the grand scheme of things, belonging to a formal alliance that includes the U.S. has largely been for the good. The sheer military power of the U.S., both conventional and nuclear, was critical to NATO’s deterrence credibility. Yes, there have been periods of tension in the past between other members of the NATO alliance and the United States, but tension forces us to think hard about an issue. It’s a natural brake that helps prevent rash decisions, even if it makes the decision-making a messy and frustrating process. At the end of the day, deterrence is served.

By adopting Dr. Komamura’s writings so completely—indeed his book is often referred to as the Littoral Alliance’s “bible”—the alliance policy-makers have severely restricted their options to purely military ones. Is the book
Navies for Asia
a self-fulfilling prophecy? Perhaps. Did it have to be this way? Regrettably, it did not.

25

END GAME

15 September 2016

0900 Local Time

Squadron Fifteen Headquarters

Guam

They’d held the memorial service for
Santa Fe
early in the morning, just before the squadron sailed. Who could say when the four boats would all be in port at the same time again? And everyone needed to begin healing. As important as their mission was, it would keep for a few hours.

There were far too many people for the base chapel. The submarine crews, minus their duty sections, from
North Dakota, Texas, North Carolina
, and
Oklahoma City
, and the families from
Texas, Oklahoma City
, and of course
Santa Fe
attended. Adding in the Squadron Fifteen staff, it came to over fifteen hundred people.
North Dakota
and
North Carolina
were homeported out of Pearl Harbor, so their families were not present, and Jerry missed having Emily beside him.

So they’d taken over a nearby parking lot, setting up chairs, awnings, a podium, flags, and sound system. Volunteers from the Squadron Fifteen boats had made short work of the preparations, so that by the time the last torpedo had been locked in its tube, everything was ready for the service. The mess crews on the four submarines worked all night to prepare the refreshments. They wanted to do this right.

It was going to be a warm day. It got into the eighties in Guam, even in September, so it was a short service, but that was fine. The crews had places to be.

The navy hadn’t lost a ship for a long time, but they hadn’t forgotten how a memorial service should be done. Honoring a fallen shipmate, admittedly an entire crew in this case, was a tradition the navy clung to fiercely. The base chaplain had begun the service, followed by readings from each of the Squadron Fifteen skippers. Captain Simonis gave a short speech about service and sacrifice, and that the greatest sacrifice was made by the ones left behind—the families.

Joanna Patterson, at the direction of the president, read a short message praising
Santa Fe
and its crew, who had accepted the risks inherent in their work, and, in faithfully carrying out their duties, “had upheld the finest traditions of the U.S. Navy.” She’d held it together while reading the president’s message, but the deputy national security advisor wept silently through the rest of the service.

The base band played the navy hymn, and then serenaded the attendees as they enjoyed the refreshments. Jerry had sought out Joanna, who gave him a quick hug, wished him luck, and told him to be careful. Simonis found him as he was talking with Patterson. Upon seeing the commodore waiting, she quickly excused herself. Joanna knew the two had business to discuss. Simonis approached Jerry and offered his hand.

“Good luck, Jerry. I’m sorry about sending you back to the same patrol zone, but
North Dakota
has the best chance against that Akula. I’m assuming Samant’s still annoyed, so it makes the most sense to send someone with experience up against him.”

“Oh, he’s still pissed, Commodore. That’s a safe bet. I’ll do my best to stay out of his way.”

“Just do what’s needed and come home. I don’t want to lose another one of my boats.”

Less than an hour after he returned to
North Dakota,
they were under way. Half an hour later they were submerged, with a flank bell on, speeding for the South China Sea.

*   *   *

Jerry had begun running drills as soon as they were clear of the harbor. The memorial service had left his crew thoughtful, and he needed their heads fully in the game. Feeling sorry for
Santa Fe,
or worse, sorry for themselves, was a good way to get dead. Better they were sweating the next drill, or mad at him for working their tails off.

He ran snapshot torpedo exercises that morphed into damage control drills. He inserted
Chakra
’s recorded acoustic signature into the sonar’s computer, exercising his team until even his most junior sonarman knew exactly which tonals would show up first.

He also had the torpedomen run rapid reloading drills. With only one tube available, if he had to shoot, he wanted to make sure it wasn’t the only chance he’d get.

In spite of the long distance,
North Dakota
was still close to its assigned station two hours ahead of time. They’d decided to wait inside a box five miles square, centered on their designated launch position. That meant they were never more than half an hour from the launch position at ten knots.