SSN

11. Battle Royale

Something was wrong. Cheyenne had completed her refit, and once again had as many Mk 48 ADCAPs on board as McKee could give her — which was still less than Mack would have liked.

But that wasn’t what was bothering him. He was still thinking about their battle with the Chinese Hainan attack boats that, along with the four submarines, had been sent after Benthic Adventure.

The thing was, both Cheyenne and the surface group had been lucky. Mack knew that, and he’d admit it if he had to. But luck alone didn’t account for everything. Since they had destroyed the Chinese surface and submarine group sent to attack Benthic Adventure, all aspects of the escort mission were proceeding far better than planned, and that was what was bothering Mack.

Cheyenne, Princeton, and Gettysburg had not picked up any Chinese submarine or surface contacts for quite a long time now, and while Mack was happy to get the rest, it just wasn’t right. The Chinese navy relied almost entirely upon numbers to accomplish their missions, and yet they had sent only five surface ships and four submarines to attack one of their prized targets.

Mack didn’t buy it. Something was wrong with that picture. Cheyenne should have detected at least several more Chinese surface or submarine contacts probing Benthic Adventure’s defenses.

Where, thought Mack, had the Chinese navy gone?

He was about to find out, and he — along with the entire American command — was not going to like the answer.

At Zhanjiang Naval Base in southern China, a massive force of over sixty ships and submarines was being readied. Their mission was simple: destroy the American aircraft carrier Independence and her entire Battle Group.

The Independence Battle Group consisted of a rather large contingent of ships. This force included three Ticonderoga class Aegis Cruisers, Bunker Hill (CG-52), Mobile Bay (CG-53), and Port Royal (CG-73); two Arleigh Burke Aegis destroyers, John Paul Jones (DDG- 53) and Paul Hamilton (DDG-60); three Spruance ASW destroyers, Hewitt (DD-966), O’Brien (DD-975), and Fletcher (DD-992); and three Perry class frigates, Rodney M. Davis (FFG-60), Thach (FFG-43), and McClusky (FFG-41). Patrolling beneath them was Columbia (SSN- 771), a Los Angeles class submarine like Bremerton and Cheyenne.

Within hours of their preparation, American satellites had detected the change in operating tempo at the Chinese naval base. While naval intelligence was not exactly sure what was going on, they did know that it was something major.

As soon as the ships began to leave port, naval intelligence alerted Independence of this major movement. A force that size could only have one mission in mind — attack the American carrier group, destroy Independence, and sink the remainder of her escorts.

When Independence received this message, she immediately went to her highest defensive level. At the same time, the Navy started trying to provide the carrier all the backup available. USS Cheyenne was one of the first ships outside the Independence Battle Group summoned to assist in her defense.

Cheyenne was running deep, and the only way the Navy could reach her was through the extremely low frequency band of communications. ELF messages took so long to send that they were invariably short — just long enough to alert the submarine to proceed to periscope depth for a longer message.

“Captain,” reported the communicator, “we just received an emergency message via ELF requesting us to come to periscope depth in order to receive an urgent message.”

“Come to periscope depth,” Mack ordered the OOD immediately.

It took several minutes to make it to periscope depth. As soon as Cheyenne was shallow enough she began receiving the important message via SSIXS.

Mack looked at the printout and immediately ordered the communicator to summon a meeting in the wardroom. Mack wanted the combat systems officer, executive officer, navigator, sonar officer, and the communicator there in ten minutes. Mack himself headed straight for the wardroom.

When the officers were assembled, Mack wasted no time. “We have just received an emergency change of orders,” he said. “Naval intelligence believes that the USS Independence is about to come under a massive attack by the Chinese navy. Several hours ago, over sixty Chinese surface ships and submarines left Zhanjiang Naval Base headed in a southerly direction.”

The room had grown quiet. Mack hadn’t been the only one to notice that the Chinese hadn’t gone after the recaptured prospecting ship as heavily as expected, and now many officers’ suspicions were being confirmed.

“Independence is currently sailing in the southwestern portion of the South China Sea,” Mack went on. “She has been instructed to move slightly east in order to head toward deeper water where her weapons systems and aircraft can be used to the best advantage. We have been ordered to leave the Benthic Adventure convoy and head southwest. We are to meet up with the Independence Battle Group south of Vietnam. Our orders are to protect Independence at all costs.”

Mack paused to let that sink in. The very idea that the carrier group herself could be in danger took some getting used to.

After a moment he went on, “Independence will not be sitting still, waiting for our arrival. She has been ordered to close to within aircraft range of the Chinese task force. Once her aircraft are within range, they will begin a preemptive attack on the Chinese fleet. Our job then will be to assist in the ASW efforts.”

The executive officer spoke up then. “Will we have other submarine assets in the area?” he asked.

“Yes,” Mack said. “We will be assisted in our operations by our sister ships USS Columbia (SSN 771) and USS Bremerton (SSN 698). Columbia is currently operating with the Independence group. Bremerton will be running at flank speed and will be joining us from the Indian Ocean, where she had been sent to check on an unidentified submarine contact reported by the Australians.”

There were no further questions, and Mack dismissed his officers. They all had a lot of work to do before Cheyenne arrived on station.

This was not the first time Independence had been targeted by the Chinese, but Mack knew that this was by far the most serious threat yet. Several weeks earlier, Independence had come under heavy air attack by the Chinese air force. At that time, however, Independence had been operating at ranges far in excess of most Chinese tactical aircraft and had escaped unscathed. This time the Chinese would have learned their lessons and would be sending both surface and submarine forces to attack the carrier.

Cheyenne was running deep at flank speed in an attempt to reach Independence before the shooting started. Mack knew that the Battle Group commander would not just sit and wait for the Chinese task force to steam closer and closer to them. That was not the American style of fighting. Mack knew that Independence would take the initiative and attack as soon as the moment was right. He just hoped that he would be able to get Cheyenne there in time.

Hours later, Cheyenne proceeded to communications depth to receive the latest intelligence on the Chinese task force. The fleet was heading south in the direction of the Spratly Islands. The latest reports, which came from Independence herself, indicated that the Chinese task force was making every effort to close on the Independence Battle Group, but they were not very well organized.

As the sixty-odd Chinese surface and submarines sped south toward Independence, there was as close to zero coordination as a fleet could attain. Each Chinese ship was operating at what their captain felt was the optimal speed for his ship, with no attempt to maintain order or grouping with the other ships in the task force. The fleet consisted of nearly every type of vessel known to be operational within the Chinese navy, from fast attack craft to destroyers, and from reserve Romeo diesel submarines to the newly acquired Akula SSNs.

This battle plan was something of a desperation move on the part of the Chinese. The Americans were accustomed to more orderly warfare, but the Chinese group had not planned on attacking the Americans in an organized fashion. Instead, their orders were for each ship to slowly approach the Spratlys, refuel, and then head for Independence without waiting for support. As soon as any given ship was within maximum range of the Battle Group, it would fire its weapons.

Obviously, the Chinese were expecting to take terrific losses. If they failed, they would be facing a major action by the United Nations, who had ruled since the beginning of hostilities that the Chinese were to blame. The United States had begun rallying NATO members in favor of launching an offensive against the Spratly Island chain. If the Chinese failed here, they could face international humiliation if NATO or UN forces captured the islands. But if they succeeded, if they sank Independence, the entire operation would be worth any risk.

As Mack had predicted, the Chinese had learned from their previous attack on the carrier. Their last attempt had been a fiasco. They had flown sixty H-6 bombers, Chinese versions of the TU-16 Badger, against Independence, but the American F-14s had been able to attack the bombers long before any of them were able to launch their C-601 antiship missiles. The Chinese had lost nearly fifty aircraft. The Americans had lost nothing but some AMRAAM and Phoenix missiles.

This time, however, things would be different. Since the failed attack on Independence, China had begun basing large quantities of tactical aircraft on several of the larger Spratly Islands. The Americans were unaware of the large numbers of aircraft China had been able to store at these tiny airfields in the Spratlys. While several of the bases had been hit by Tomahawk cruise missiles, several more had stayed intact, and they would now be used to their fullest advantage once the new attack began. And, the Chinese hoped, the Americans would have no idea of the battle they were about to enter into.

Cheyenne was still running at thirty-two knots when Mack asked for the ETA on their rendezvous with Independence.

“If we maintain our current speed, Captain, we should be there in six and a half hours,” answered the OOD.

“Very well,” Mack said. “Maintain flank speed and heading.”

The transit to the South China Sea to meet with Independence was filled with tension. All on board Cheyenne had been informed of the large attack group heading their way and they were not exactly sure of how their submarine fit into the equation. They knew that they would be playing an essential role in the operation, but they also knew that they would not find out what that role was until their new orders were radioed to them from the surface.

The Americans were not like the Chinese when it came to fleet cooperation. The U.S. Navy put a great emphasis on intership communications. They had learned that through digital data-links and satellite communications, that so-called information warfare could mean the difference between failure and success in a major battle.

“We just picked up Mobile Bay on sonar bearing 286,” reported one of the sonar operators to his sonar supervisor. The BSY-1 operators immediately set to work to determine Cheyenne’s range to the cruiser.

“Come to periscope depth,” Mack ordered.

“Come to periscope depth, aye, sir.” The repeated order was such a part of Navy life that few even realized that they were saying it.

After four minutes the captain ordered one of the communications masts raised. When that order had been acknowledged and carried out, he instructed radio to transmit a message to Independence, indicating that Cheyenne had arrived on station and was awaiting their new orders.

It took a few minutes for the new orders to come in, but Mack didn’t mind the wait — especially once he got a look at exactly what those new orders were.

Cheyenne was to take up position approximately one hundred miles in front of the Battle Group. This would get her away from the noisy surface ships and allow her to do what she did best: hunt down and destroy any enemy submarines in the area.

When the final message traffic had come in, Mack ordered Cheyenne to once again proceed below four hundred feet. His normal routine was to call a meeting in the wardroom, but these orders had been expected and did not require a full meeting. Instead, he then instructed the communicator to type up a summary and distribute it to the appropriate officers.

Mack finished the letter with his plain, recognizable signature and had the communicator run off the appropriate number of copies.

On board Independence, flight operations were beginning to take on a tone of tension as well. While all carrier flights involved a fairly high level of risk, combat operations increased this risk. On top of that, within the past hour an ES-3 electronic warfare aircraft flying from the carrier had detected strong Chinese radio activity coming from the direction of the Spratly Islands. Since the invasion of the islands, this had frequently been the case, except that this time the heavy traffic was coming from naval vessels, not ground units.

Currently, two of Independence’s E-2Cs were operating around the carrier, providing radar coverage out to many hundreds of miles. F-14Ds, armed with AMRAAM and Phoenix missiles, were providing air cover around the clock for the Battle Group. This was all happening while two dozen F/A-18s were being armed with two Harpoon antishipping missiles, two underwing fuel tanks, and two Sidewinder missiles each, in an effort to prepare them for the ensuing battle. Twelve F/A-18s also were being kept in reserve in case the air battle got too sticky for the F-14s to handle alone.

On board the carrier’s escorts, their crews were preparing as well. The entire group’s radars, including the Aegis radars, were shut down. The surface group was relying entirely on the APS-145 radars flying overhead on board the E-2 Hawkeyes. The Battle Group commander wanted to deny the Chinese the opportunity to detect American radar waves via ESM. Without an exact location on the American warships, the Chinese would not be able to launch their missiles until they came within either visual range or their own radar range — and the commander did not intend to allow them to get anywhere near that close.

Beneath the surface, operating twenty miles away from the carrier on either side, were the USS Bremerton and the USS Columbia. These submarines were playing defense to Cheyenne’s ASW offense. They waited just far enough away from the carrier to not be affected by the group’s noise while staying close enough to attack incoming threats such as Romeo class submarines armed with shorter-range torpedoes. Both Bremerton and Columbia were aware that the newer Akulas carried several long-range torpedoes, including the 65cm Type 65 wake homing torpedo, which had a range in excess of fifty nautical miles. These longer-range threats would have to be handled by Cheyenne or the S-3 Viking aircraft.

On board Cheyenne, Mack was well aware that he would need to take care of the most dangerous ASW threats to Independence. The Akula submarines would be hard to detect and had weapons that could attack the carrier from long distances. He would have to take special care to deal with these threats, even if it meant letting the noisier, less dangerous Romeos and Mings slip by, leaving them for Bremerton and Columbia to handle.

Word passed rapidly throughout the Battle Group that evidence strongly suggested that the Chinese task force had arrived at the Spratly Islands and was now beginning to refuel. That told Mack that the battle was about to begin.

Cheyenne was in perfect position to launch her Tomahawk cruise missiles at the refueling warships and their piers, but Mack agreed with the Battle Group commander’s decision not to. Not even Cheyenne could have taken out all sixty ships, and launching her Tomahawks would have given away Cheyenne’s position. That would have risked exposing her to any Akulas in the area, and hampered her in her ASW mission.

Mack would have liked to go after the Chinese ships while they were still no threat to the Independence Battle Group, but he agreed with the decision. He would wait, silently, until the enemy submarines began to show up on his sonar consoles.

Cheyenne wasn’t the only U.S. asset in the area with Tomahawks on board. The USS Hewitt’s entire Mk 41 vertical launch system had been loaded with sixty-one land-attack variants of the Tomahawk cruise missile. And as the Chinese ships steamed into the Spratlys, Hewitt received orders to launch her missiles.

Within several minutes, Hewitt’s entire arsenal had been fired and the Tomahawk missiles headed, at low altitude, for the Spratly Islands.

By now, USCINCPAC had provided the ships in the area with extremely accurate digital terrain data of the islands. This intelligence, combined with the accuracy of the Tomahawk’s GPS, ensured an unprecedented accuracy when the Tomahawks arrived at their destination.

Forty-six minutes later the Tomahawks arrived at their targets. One by one the missiles impacted, giving the Chinese their first indication that perhaps the attack on the carrier Independence was not such a good idea after all.

At the naval bases where the Chinese task force was refueling, many of the piers where the ships were pulling in to be refueled were completely and utterly destroyed.

In all, twenty-three Chinese ships and submarines were destroyed outright. The explosions and fires resulting from the Tomahawks wreaked havoc on the firefighting efforts of the small damage-control contingents at each of the mini-bases.

Ten more fast attack craft and four submarines were soon destroyed in secondary explosions also caused by the Tomahawks.

All in all, following the American Tomahawk attack, the total Chinese task force of sixty-two naval vessels was cut down to twenty-five ships, including eighteen surface ships and seven submarines: three Romeos, two Mings, one Kilo, and a single Akula. Of the eighteen surface ships remaining, not all of them had the fuel to fight the Americans and then return to China — but that didn’t matter. The order came down from above that all twenty-five ships would fight — whether they had enough fuel or not.

Win or lose, many of the Chinese sailors would not be coming home from this battle.

Cheyenne’s sensitive sonars picked up the sounds of destruction as Hewitt’s Tomahawks found their marks. These noises were followed almost immediately by the distinctive sounds of the surviving Chinese submarines running out to sea.

Mack ordered Cheyenne to proceed to periscope depth. Once there, he radioed Independence, alerting her that the Chinese vessels had started in her direction. When that had been done, Mack manned battle stations and took Cheyenne back down to a safer depth.

“Conn, sonar,” the sonar supervisor reported, “we’ve got far more than a dozen contacts headed in this direction.”

“Sonar, conn, aye,” Mack said. “Make tubes one and two ready in all respects, including opening the outer doors.”

As was standard aboard Cheyenne, all four of her torpedo tubes were already loaded with Mk 48 ADCAP torpedoes. She was now preparing to use them.

Cheyenne was waiting at a distance of about one hundred miles west of Ladd Reef, one of the westernmost points in the Spratly Island chain. Independence was operating two hundred miles west of Cheyenne’s position, three hundred miles from Ladd Reef.

The Chinese navy was not rated among the world’s finest. As Mack listened to the reports coming in from his sonar supervisor, he could see why.

Active sonar was good for in-close work. Used properly, active sonar could give a competent submariner an effective firing solution, map a minefield, or help navigate an unfamiliar trench. Used poorly, in the hands of incompetent or inexperienced sailors, active sonar was the equivalent of hanging a target on the side of your ship and inviting the enemy to fire.

That’s what the Chinese were doing as they sped toward the Independence carrier group. Many of the oncoming surface ships were pinging away with their active sonar, obviously searching for American submarines.

Mack was delighted. He could hardly believe it when Cheyenne’s TB-23 thin-line array picked up faint signals that matched the variable-depth active sonar fitted to the new Chinese Luhu destroyers. The Chinese ships were too far away to detect Cheyenne, but their active sonar was illuminating their own submarines and providing Mack with both range and targeting data on the Chinese.

Nearly thirty minutes passed before the active sonar source got close enough for the BSY-1 to decipher its range from the bearing rate.

“Captain,” the sonar supervisor reported, “it’s definitely coming from a Luhu destroyer. BSY-1 range is 88,000 yards to the pinging Luhu, bearing 092, but sonar isn’t picking up any other signals yet.”

Mack thought to himself that the Luhu, designated Master 98, must have been the first Chinese vessel to leave the Spratly Island chain after the Tomahawk cruise missile attack. He was sure, however, that it wouldn’t be the only one.

Mack had to play a delicate balancing game now. As the Luhu drew closer, Mack knew that eventually he would come into active sonar range of the destroyer, and the Luhu would detect Cheyenne. Before that happened, Mack would have to take the destroyer out with an Mk 48. But he didn’t want to do that too soon. He was relying on the Luhu’s sonar to paint a picture of exactly what Chinese ships were headed his way, and he didn’t want to alert the other Chinese captains to the mistake they were making.

“Conn, sonar, we just detected another contact, this time a submarine. The active Luhu sonar was reflected off the submarine’s hull. We can’t tell what class it is yet.” Mack designated the submarine Master 99.

“Conn, sonar, we just got another active ping! This one’s coming from a Chinese Luda,” reported the sonar supervisor.

“Range to the new contact is 82,000 yards,” reported a BSY-1 operator as Mack designated the Luda Master 100.

Mack would like to have gone to periscope depth so he could alert Independence, but he dared not give away his position. He hoped that on the surface, the Battle Group ships were seeing the same things that Cheyenne was hearing.

He needn’t have worried. He couldn’t tell it on board Cheyenne, but even as he was worrying about the ships he was assigned to protect, wave upon wave of F/A-18s were launching off the deck of Independence. F-14s were waiting in the air to escort them to their targets in case any Chinese aircraft were to take to the sky.

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.