“Aye, sir.” Dutch then set out on his most important task, find a coffee pot.
Thirty minutes later, Danis addressed his makeshift staff in a hot and stuffy workshop turned conference room. An air-conditioner sat silent. The short supply of electric power precluded such peacetime luxuries.
“Gentlemen, I’m Eric Danis. I just told Dutch Meyer this is a hell of a place from which to run a submarine squadron. But at least we have a place, which is more than other less fortunate commands can say. I’m pleased to note we have some aviators aboard. Commander Carter is the number two man in seniority and as such will perform the duties of chief staff officer. We make history, gentlemen. No naval aviator has ever held this post in a U.S. submarine squadron before. Welcome and congratulations, Commander.”
Commander Carter acknowledged with a nod and smile.
Danis went on, “West coast port facilities for submarines are no longer available for reasons you all know. They’ve all been hit with ground bursts and left too hot for anything for at least five years. It’s part of the Soviet strategy. Isolate us from our allies and finish off with a blockade. To break this, we must regain access to the sea. Our job is to replace the lost seaports.
“Ships on patrol can’t stay out there indefinitely. They gotta come home to lick their wounds and get back out there to kick more Soviet ass. This won’t be easy and we have no experience with such a task so ingenuity is a hot commodity. The new additions from the aviation community are famous for this and I expect they’ll give us submariners a run for our money.”
He made it clear he would not tolerate inter-group animosity and concluded with, “And now, I’d like to go around and hook up some faces with the names I’ve seen on the staff register. After that, I want Commander Carter to conduct interviews and find the best fits for staff jobs that need filling.”
Brent Maddock handed a steaming cup of coffee to the conning officer, Dan Patrick. “Here, shipmate. Don’t say I never gave you anything. How long ago did we enter Tango Four?”
“About an hour … and let me tell you the pucker factor has been right up there.”
“No surprise. First shooting war for all of us. How are things going?”
“I’d have to say good. Never realized we could get the ship this quiet. We’re bombing along at fifteen knots without a flicker on the self noise monitor.”
“Fear is a hell of an incentive. What’s the search plan?”
Irritation apparent in his voice, Dan went on, “Nothing formal so far. The old man’s seat-of-the-pantsing it. He wears himself out bouncing between Sonar and the chart table. And he’s burning out our best ears with the double watch bit. A week at this pace and we won’t be able to hear a jack hammer in the Sonar Shack.”
Taking Dan by the arm, Brent guided him out of earshot of the enlisted watch standers. “Back off on the captain, Dan.”
“You’re a fine one to talk, Brent. You bait him every chance you get.”
“No, Dan, I don’t. I just do my job and sometimes it gets in the way. I don’t try to prove him wrong just to make him look bad.”
Dan said with a sarcastic tone, “Sometimes it just happens that way. Right?”
“That’s not my point, Dan. If we survive this mission, it’ll be as a team. Most important, don’t let the troops suspect there’s dissension. That would blow their confidence, which equates to low morale.”
“Yeah, Brent. But the skipper scares the hell out of me for that very reason. I don’t think he really knows what to do.”
“None of us do, Dan. We’ve got to bring out the best each of us has to offer and throw it on the table. It’ll get damn tough around here if the captain suspects we’re not behind him. He won’t take our advice then, even when it’s sound, but I promise you, it won’t always be.”
“What are you suggesting, Brent?”
“We make the old man look good. He’s running with the ball too hard on his own. Maybe not for what we consider the best of reasons, but we need to show he can depend on us.”
Dan frowned. “Let me think on it.”
“Good. And while you are, I’ll work up a search plan.”
Brent disappeared behind the plotting room curtains and emerged an hour later. “Here’s how it looks to me, Dan. Tango Four’s too big for a complete sweep before Utah gets here, so let’s focus our efforts on her projected track. We’ll do this below the layer. Ivan’s no fool and he knows that’s where the Tridents like to hang out. We’ll search passive-narrowband at low frequencies. This is our best chance to find him. But, if he’s lying still and waiting, even that will be pretty damn hard. We’ll search wide at the seaward end and converge to the rendezvous point. This will give us the most coverage for the time allowed. We’ve got to be careful about our own radiated noise levels; and Dan, fifteen knots is too fast. I don’t care what the monitors say. At this speed, we concede first detection to an Akula laying to, dead in the water.”
Dan interrupted. “Where’n hell do you come up with all this stuff, Brent?”
Brent grinned at his friend. “I’m the weapons officer and I read all that paperwork your department sends me. Listen, we must not make that rendezvous.”
“For chrissake, Brent, why not? SUBPAC told us to rendez —”
Brent broke in, “I know, but don’t forget, nobody on the Soviet side has any combat experience, either. We shouldn’t hook up with Utah for two reasons. First, if an Akula’s out there and he finds us, he’ll know what we’re up to. He’ll simply follow us to the real prize, Utah.”
“And, the other reason?”
“What can we do for Utah after the rendezvous? Consider the options. If we go ahead of her, anybody waiting on the track will let us pass and shoot the big guy. If we follow, anything we do will be too late. So why not take our chances and lead Ivan to where Utah ain’t?”
Dan shook his head. “You’ll never sell this to the Old Man.”
“I know I won’t, Dan. You will.”
“What do you mean, I will? Damn it, Brent.”
“Look, Dan. I’m not asking you to do anything you don’t believe is right. You agree with my approach, don’t you?”
“Yes, but —”
“You know I’m a burr under the captain’s saddle. He gets pissed off if I tell him what time it is. This is medicine he must take … and it can’t be from me. Besides, Dan, you’re the operations officer and it’s your job to make these up anyway.”
Dan smarted under the allegation. The two glared at each other a moment.
After a short pause, Dan said, “Okay. I’ll give it my best shot, but no promises.”
“No promises.”
Brent left the Attack Center.
An hour later Dan explained to Brent the outcome of his meeting with the captain. “The son of a bitch is dangerous, Brent.”
“Cool it, Dan. That kind of talk can kill us. We won’t achieve a damn thing with open hostility.”
“Okay, okay.”
“Exactly what did he say?”
“He said the plan contradicts his orders. SUBPAC said to sanitize Tango Four and that means all of it. When he says rendezvous with Utah, that doesn’t mean go someplace else. He asked me what would headquarters’ reaction be if our patrol report states we disobeyed orders.”
Brent suspected the captain had said more. “Is that all?”
Dan hesitated. “No.”
“What else?”
“He said he’d expect that kind of advice from an officer like you but surprised to hear it from me.”