“She’s still in port… bloody hell skipper… they do know that our sonarmen are reduced to sticking a drinking glass to their ear and holding it against the side of the hull to listen?”
The captain shrugged, because there was no point in doing anything else.
“They don’t think the PLAN are coming through here, and because they don’t think the PLAN are coming this way, we will be being relieved early, but we aren’t a priority.”
The First Lieutenant sighed.
“So did they get a satellite to stay up long enough to see where they are?”
“The last one lived all of an hour before it got killed, so I am guessing the answer to your question is no.”
His second in command was looking straight ahead and did not respond.
“Number One?”
The captain could see his subordinates eyes weren’t focussed on the bulkhead he was otherwise staring intently at, obviously lost in his thoughts.
“You go to work each day while I stay home and keep house. When you come home you just read the paper… it’s like we just don’t talk anymore.” The First Lieutenant remained fixed on whatever was biting him, and oblivious to what his captain had just said.
“Where did the magic go?” the captain asked himself aloud with a theatrical sigh.
The First Lieutenant turned his head suddenly; his expression bemused
“Pardon?”
The captain handed across the signals.
“There isn’t anything in here that indicates fresh intel on the carriers location. The typhoon should be passed in the next twelve hours, so at least no one’s knocking down the weather satellites, yet.”
There was nothing else to be said on the subject, so a change in pace beckoned
“The troops are holding up good, sir?”
“They are that… I just wish this damn tub would follow their example.”
“I think we will have a couple of days slack once we get back to Perth, would a party be in order sir?”
“Number One, despite our encountering nothing more threatening than the weather on this cruise, I think that a record breaking beach party is definitely called… … … ” The speaker for the ships PA system crackled, interrupting him.
“TorpedoTorpedoTorpedo… action stations torpedo… ..!”
Feet thundered along passageways as the crew responded. The captain’s cabin was next to the sonar shop and both officers were there before the sentence was completed.
“… Range six thousand metres, bearing zero four five… I have one… now two torpedoes in the water!”
“What heading are they?” The First Lieutenant demanded, frustrated that the information was being processed too slowly. It wasn’t the fault of the sonarman, he knew this.
“Standby sir… heading zero four four, someone just shot at the tanker, sir!”
“Can you hear the shooter?”
“No sir.”
“It has to be another submarine skipper, nothing sane will be flying in this weather.” The First Lieutenant went on. “In other words, something got to within six kilometres of us and we didn’t hear him until he fired.” It was a statement rather than a question, but he got a response anyway.
“You’re a real ‘glass half empty feller’ number one. What I would have said was, would they be firing on an unarmed tanker if they knew we were close enough to spit at?”
To the north of them the tankers look-outs never even saw it coming, and the first weapon detonated against the heavily laden vessel amidships, igniting the sixty thousand tonnes of gasoline and twenty tonnes of diesel in a massive explosion that was clearly visible over the horizon on the Mao’s bridge.
The near total darkness of before was now broken by a glow, preceded by a rolling ball of fire that climbed several thousand feet into the clouds before dissipating but the glow from the sea remained, reflecting off the cloud base.
Captain Hong noted that their present course took them on a line uncomfortably close to the fiery gravesite.
“Admiral, may I suggest a change of course by three points to port?”
Putchev shook his head.
“No Captain that will not be necessary, the winds are westerly at this time of year, I do not anticipate them changing.” His thoughts had been with the crew of their latest victim and his voice carried the regret he felt.
“By the time we come up to it the flames will be extending well to our starboard.”
Captain Hong heard the tone of his commander’s voice, and although he did not share the Russian’s feelings, he did understand know him well enough now to know what it meant.
“Sir, they could have announced our presence to the enemy, and they were transporting fuel that would be running Indonesian tank and aircraft engines later.”
“They were sailormen just as you and I are. They were non-combatants with families, and we are not at war with Indonesia captain, nor Argentina either.”
“Not yet Admiral but we will be, and remember that intelligence reports Indonesian forces in Australia.”
As the carriers Mao and Admiral Kuznetsov headed south, so too did the Australian submarine Hooper as she cleared datum at a mere three knots.
Her captains intention was to put distance between his vessel and the last known position of the enemy submarine that had torpedoed the tanker before reporting on events, but two hours later even their sonar could hear the sound of surface vessels heading their way.
The arraignment of vessels heading south, and their types took shape slowly on HMAS Hooper’s plot. Her captain had his hands thrust deep inside his pants pockets studying it, the picture of an invasion fleet that had only one logical destination, and included some dream targets for a submariner.
The First Lieutenant was practically salivating as the contacts were updated with their type, and in some cases even the name of the vessel.
They had the two carriers signatures in their database, as did every allied vessel, courtesy of HMS Hood, and whilst the captain was considering all possible courses of action, the junior officer was working out an attack on the capital ships in his head.
“Okay then.” The captain broke the silence at last. “I want firing solutions on all identified warships, with ASW hulls given priority.”
“We’re attacking then, sir?”
“Not today we’re not, Number One.” Turning to address everyone in the control room, the captain gave his orders. “Apart from a few patrol vessels the rest of the navy is a God awful long way away, and we are the only vessel to have sighted the enemy.” He allowed that to sink in before carrying on. “I intend to let the bastards pass us by before calling this in, and then we will shadow the enemy, reporting as we go.”
All eyes were on him and he knew he commanded their trust, but those faces, from the youngest Rating to the oldest Petty Officer present were a reminder that he held their lives in his hand.
“We are at something of a disadvantage because they can hear better than we can, so I want a contact report prepared and uploaded into an ECB, ready for instant release should we come under attack, plus I want a second ECB readied on a one hour delay.” That second Expendable Communications Buoy would be released once the fleet had passed them by, but would remain at its release depth for sixty minutes before rising to the surface and broadcasting its data in a burst transmission to the nearest communications satellite. Should its transmission be detected, the Hooper would be well clear of the area by that time.
The captain didn’t add that once the weather cleared they would have the enemy fleets ASW aircraft to contend with also, and their survival relied upon all the ships systems being on top line, which they weren’t. The smart ones had already worked that one out for themselves, but none voiced the fact that HMAS Hooper’s days were most probably numbered at best in single figures.