6. (SECR) USS KITTY HAWK AND ESCORTS DIRECTED TO DEPART SOUTHERN ARABIAN GULF IMMEDIATELY UPON RECEIPT OF THIS MESSAGE. PROCEED AT MAXIMUM AVAILABLE SPEED TO ENTRANCE TO RED SEA (LATITUDE 1322N LONGITUDE 04406E) TO INTERCEPT DEUTSCHE MARINE SUBMARINES.
7. (SECR) U.S. IS NOT, REPEAT NOT IN A STATE OF WAR WITH FEDERAL REPUBLIC OF GERMANY. WEAPONS CONDITION FREEZE IS IN EFFECT. NO U.S. SHIP OR AIRCRAFT IS TO FIRE ON ANY VESSEL OR AIRCRAFT OF THE REPUBLIC OF GERMANY WITHOUT SPECIFIC ORDERS, OR EXCEPT IN THE LAST POSSIBLE EXTREMIS OF SELF DEFENSE.
8. (SECR) KITTY HAWK CARRIER STRIKE GROUP IS TO BLOCKADE RED SEA AGAINST PASSAGE OF SUBMARINES WITHOUT INITIATING HOSTILITIES. RECOMMEND YOU UTILIZE ACTIVE SURFACE SHIP SONAR, ACTIVE SONOBUOYS, RADAR FLOODING, AND HELO HOLD-DOWN TACTICS TO HERD SUBS AWAY FROM CHOKE POINT.
9. (UNCL) I KNOW THIS IS A DIFFICULT ASSIGNMENT, AND THAT IT REQUIRES SUBTLETY AND RESTRAINT ON THE PART OF THE MEN AND WOMEN UNDER YOUR COMMAND. I AM CONFIDENT THAT YOU CAN HANDLE IT; THAT S WHY I CALLED IN THE BEST.
GOOD LUCK. ADMIRAL CASEY SENDS.
//161228Z MAY//
//FLASH//FLASH//FLASH//
//SECRET//
//SSSSSSSSSS//
Had it been a little larger, Flag Plot aboard USS Kitty Hawk could have easily doubled as a movie set for the infamous War Room. The dimly lit compartment was crammed floor to ceiling with electronic equipment.
Four large-screen tactical displays dominated the forward and starboard bulkheads. Each of the six-foot — square screens was speckled with cryptic-looking tactical symbols representing ships, submarines, aircraft, and shore installations within the carrier’s area of responsibility. The symbols were color-coded: blue for friendly, red for hostile, and white for neutral.
The remaining two bulkheads were lined with computer terminals, automated status boards, radio comm panels, and radar repeaters, all designed to provide the admiral and his staff with the information required to effectively manage the aircraft carrier and her attendant strike group.
Despite the nearly continuous flurry of activity, the room was quiet.
The equipment operators spoke to each other in low tones, using hands-free communications headsets very much like those used by astronauts.
Slouched in his raised chair at the center of the room, Admiral Curtiss Joiner read the closing lines of the CNO’s message for about the seventh time. “What a crock of shit,” he said under his breath.
The admiral’s chief of staff, Commander Ernesto Ortiz, was standing next to his chair. “Pardon me, sir?”
Admiral Joiner looked up. “What? Oh, sorry, Ernie. It’s just this message. It doesn’t make sense. We’ve been asked … no — we’ve been ordered … to haul ass to the Gulf of Aden and bottle up a pack of German subs before they can sneak out of the Red Sea.”
Ortiz nodded slowly. “Is this the same four diesel boats that gave Abraham Lincoln the slip over in the Med, sir?”
“It’s the same guys all right,” the admiral said.
“They made LANTFLEET look like idiots,” Commander Ortiz said.
“Now I guess it’s PACFLEET’s turn in the barrel.”
The admiral shook his head. “I’m an old man, Ernie, too old to worry about looking like a fool. But if I’m going to pull my pants down in public, I’d like to have some degree of confidence that nobody’s going to shoot me in the ass.”
Ortiz frowned. “You think that’s a real danger here, sir?”
“They sure as hell didn’t have any compunctions about shooting the Brits,” Admiral Joiner said. He waved the message printout like a fan. “It says right here that the Germans are almost certainly trying to sell those subs to Siraj. As far as I’m concerned, that makes them proven hostiles.
But we’re being ordered to turn their submarines around with a kind word and a smile.”
“They wouldn’t be stupid enough to take on a carrier strike group, would they, sir?”
“Probably not,” the admiral said, looking up at the tactical display screens again. “But I’d sure hate to guess wrong.” He stopped himself before he spoke the next words on his mind: History was written in the blood of thousands of poor bastards who had underestimated their opponents. Instead, he said, “Turn the formation around, Ernie, and crank it up to flank speed. We’ve got a date with some submarines.”
The carrier strike group tore across the water, heedless of the noise it was making. Six ships, all racing through the morning sun at thirty knots, their propellers churning up frothy wakes that stood out against the dark blue waves like vibrant stripes.
Stealth would come later, when they arrived on station. Until then, speed was more vital than silence. If the submarines made it through the choke point and out of the Red Sea before the admiral’s blockading force arrived, the mission would be a failure before it had even begun.
At the center of the formation was the aircraft carrier USS Kitty Hawk.
Stationed around her in a protective screen were two frigates, two destroyers, and a cruiser. The positioning of each ship was carefully calculated to provide the maximum possible amount of sensor and weapons coverage overlap.
Even the order of the ships was important. For the moment, submarines were rated as the highest potential threat, so the frigates, USS Wallingford and USS Trippler, which had been built primarily for Undersea Warfare, composed the leading edge of the formation. On the carrier’s flanks ran the destroyers, USS Fort Pulaski and USS Bollinger, multi-mission ships that were also highly effective USW platforms. The cruiser USS Chancellorsville comprised the trailing edge of the formation, protecting the carrier from air attack along the axis that led back toward the Arabian Gulf — where the majority of potentially hostile aircraft in the region were based.
The layered screen defense concept had been around since the Cold War. Its longevity could be attributed to two simple words: it worked. Or at least it had worked against every naval threat encountered in nearly fifty years. But, despite its impressive track record, the screen concept was not flawless. To provide effective protection, a screen formation required seven or eight escort ships per carrier. Anything less left gaps in the screen, exposing the carrier to attack. But the U.S. Navy no longer had enough ships to provide that kind of coverage.
Kitty Hawk was making do with five escorts, and at that was better off than half the carriers in the Navy. Admiral Joiner’s tactical staff used aircraft to plug the holes in the screen, a common tactic in an era of few ships and numerous taskings.
MH-60R Seahawk helicopters played leapfrog with the screening ships, hovering low over the wave tops at strategic moments to lower sonar transducers into the water and ping for enemy submarines. For now, the dipping sonars were especially important because the ships’ sonars were virtually deaf when they were moving at high speed.
Thousands of feet above, maintaining careful vertical separation from the helos, the carrier’s F/A-18E Super Hornet fighter/attack jets patrolled the sky. The twin-tailed Super Hornets were multi-role aircraft, and their flexibility saddled them with two missions: CAP (Combat Air Patrol) and SUCAP (Surface Combat Air Patrol). Any ship or aircraft close enough to threaten the carrier strike group had to get past the missiles and guns of the Hornets first.