DTG: 180131 (ZULU) MAY AMPLIFYING SITREP. WATERTIGHT INTEGRITY AFFECTED BY ACTION WITH TYPHOON. PROCEEDING SURFACED COURSE 216° SPEED 10 TO CLOSE SHALLOWS NORTH-EAST NORDAUSTLAND. INTEND REPORTING ON THE HOUR. MY POSITION 8l° 12' NORTH 38°40′ EAST. MESSAGE ENDS.
Safari was then 240 miles to the eastward of STRIFOR'S advanced screens and Jessup had immediately detached three guided-missile destroyers. They raced through the heavy seas and were due to reach the British submarine by 0930 if the weather did not detoriate further. Jessup also scrambled a fighter patrol and flew off two stand-by Vikings. He decided not to move his force until the situation clarified. The two carriers, Constitution and Carl Vinson, remained cruising 150 miles west of Isfjord.
Shortly after her amplifying report, Safari signalled that she was picking up Maydays on international distress frequency from the Typhoon's last known position. At 0216 Viking Lima, homing on the transmissions, sighted the Typhoon's red and white beacon marked with the letter 'H' — the Russian system for donating a submarine bow marker. Viking Hotel joined Lima at 0337 but, though the beacon continued to transmit, there was no sign of life from the monster submarine lying stricken 960 feet down below the edge of the polar ice. It was after Jessup requested the RAF for further LRMP support that the character of the operation changed abruptly.
At 0342 the President talked directly to Jessup: the Kremlin was not denying that a Typhoon could be missing. The situation was still sensitive, but the President was cautiously optimistic. He certainly sounded delighted over Safari's success. The Limeys were a ruthless bunch, the admiral mused, once they were roused. There was no news yet of Orcus. Perhaps the end justified the means — for the British.
At 0400 Safari reported that the damage was repaired. She was diving and her ETA Cape Leigh Smith, Nordaustland, was 1400. The recently raised optimism in Carl Vinson was then shattered when Viking Hotel's flash came through at 0456: the LRMP was investigating further distress transmissions — but now originating from Safari's estimated position. Jessup's submarine staff officer confirmed that the British submarine indicator buoys had homing capability — and at 0500 Safari failed to report.
CINCEASTLANT transmitted the SUBSMASH at 0504 and soon after Jessup's force was ordered to proceed with utmost despatch to Isfjord. Two DSRVS, already earmarked for Operation sow, were being air-lifted from Prestwick, ETA Isfjord 1000.
The next five hours were memorable. The two carriers' dash eastwards into the head seas developed into a race, the ageing Constitution losing by only a short head. Both ships arrived forty minutes after the DSRVS landed. The destroyer screens, unable to keep up, waited outside for the carriers' turnaround. The helo-lift began at 1130, Avalong landing on Carl Vinson's flight deck at 1205. Then fell the most cruel of blows.
At 1142 the helo carrying the main body of DSRV Avalon 4 suffered a tail rotor failure. The DSRV, its crew and that of the helo were lost in eight hundred feet of water. STRIFOR proceeded with Avalong at full speed for the SUBSMASH datum position 'X'.
Then came some welcome news from CINCEASTLANT: the Soviet command was sailing a rescue task force to the Typhoon's position. The Kremlin was requesting co-operation and assuring the President that STRIFOR would not be harassed. Jessup was to maintain full alert and air cover. He was to inform the Russians of all his intentions.
It was a hard flog all right, the wind whipping up to Force 9. Blizzard conditions existed during the afternoon and even the great carriers were forced to reduce speed. At twenty-five hours' steaming Carl Vinson expected to be at position 'X' tomorrow at 0500 — Monday, 19 May.
Jessup laid the Proceedings State to one side. It was 2130 already, twelve hours since the destroyers had been on station over Safari's position — and he was glad that Safari had not been told that only one DSRV was now available. He wondered how the DDGS were faring, though the wind was beginning to ease. He yawned and stretched, yearning for his bunk. Tomorrow would be another hectic day — and patience was not one of Jessup's qualities. He did not know how he could endure another ten hours of waiting for Carl Vinson to reach 'X' — the position which, due to the terrible weather, was likely to become Safari's watery tomb. As a professional, Jessup was used to facing facts — and he could not dodge this one.
Chapter 30
Jessup watched the three DDG's bucking into the seas while trying to keep station on Safari's buoy. For Jessup it was the worst moment during the whole of SUBSMASH. The buoy was the vital communication link, indeed the only one: the DDGS were lying off, waiting for the cable of the buoy to part at any moment. They had established contact on underwater telephone last night at 1030, but the bad weather during the rest of the night rendered underwater communication very difficult, the squelching distorting all speech. But during the early hours of this Monday morning, the wind miraculously began to moderate, to leave a long swell, the surface ice streaked slate-green where the leads of open water stretched like fingers to leeward.
Jessup enjoyed these snatched interludes on his bridge, for a brief moment trying to escape his heavy burden. In half an hour Carl Vinson would be in position, ready to launch Avalong, the DSRV. The swell would make the helo's task hazardous but apparently the drop evolution had been exercised in worse conditions.
The admiral stood in the lee, marvelling at the skill and confidence of his chopper pilots: no problem, they had said, to lift that massive sausage-shaped load over the side and to dump it gently into this long swell, the troughs of which must be twenty feet below the crests. He turned as the screen door slid on its tracks. His staff captain, baggy half-moons beneath his eyes, was saluting:
'There they are, admiral — starboard bow.' They lifted the binoculars — yes, the first crosses of the Soviets' mastheads was etched against the leaden sky.
Tunny old world, Tom. Twenty-four hours ago, if someone had dreamed this up, we'd have laughed our arses off.'
'Their first units located the Typhoon buoy at dawn, sir. This lot's their heavy mob, complete with diving bell and lifting gear.'
The screen door slid back again and the communications officer, still in his shirt sleeves, stepped out on to the bridge:
'The Soviets are on the air, sir. They're asking to speak admiral to admiral, using their interpreter.'
'They've kept their word, sir, since the President's call,' the staff captain added 'They've been co-operating all down the line.'
'Yeah,' Jessup murmured. 'When we lost Avalon 4 and the helo, I sure appreciated their message. And 'I reckon they meant it: Gorshkov's traditions will die hard in their navy.' The two officers stood aside as the admiral moved towards the screen door:
'Keep the fighter coverage going, Tom,' he said, 'and the Force at Readiness State One.' His bushy eyebrows rose, as he peeled off his jacket. 'Some guy has to make the first move after a quarrel,' he said in his slow, Southern drawl. 'I'll talk to 'em, Tom: reckon it should be interesting.'