Destroyer Zhentao and frigate Qingyan died first, Then DDG Huantai took multiple hits, ravaged with fire. DDG Baomin was listing, but hanging on, and taking multiple hits, Tianlong, the Squadron Leader, was a raging mass of fire. The Raptors had delivered the coup de grace, but seeing the terrible pain they had brought to the enemy, the flight leader decided they had had enough.
“Raptor 6, this is Widowmaker. Well done. You are RTB. Over”
“Roger, Widowmaker. Turning.”
Task Force Colombo was destroyed.
The oily sea around the ships was burning, and hundreds of men were in the water. The fiery silhouettes of their ships slowly keeled over and hissed into the sea, leaving the survivors in a ghastly inferno. They were 200 miles from their comrades to the west, and too far from any friendly shore to expect any help. There they were, some lucky enough to get into a boat, but too many either already dead or simply clinging to wreckage in the water. Thankfully, air temperatures were balmy, and the water was not too cold.
Only two ships remained afloat 30 minutes later, destroyers, Tianlong and Baomin, but they were both on fire, and in no shape to take on the weight of survivors. The Captain gave the order to launch all boats and sent men with them to pull as many survivors out of the water as they could, but the boats would not bring them to a burning ship that was going to sink soon anyway. It was a hellish aftermath that could have been worse. Two Strike Raptors still had full weapons bays, the attack called off once all the enemy ships had been pummeled that night. Tianlong and Baomin would last another two hours, and then slip beneath the sea, the last of eleven ships that had sailed from the Bay of Bengal and Colombo on Sri Lanka.
For those men that remained in the sea, it was the longest night of their lives, and for many, their last. They clung together, talking first of anger and revenge, then of loved ones at home. In time, a silence fell over the scene, hazed over with acrid dark smoke. As it slowly dissipated, they looked up at the clear night sky, and the glittering diamond stars were they last thing many would see.
When Admiral Sun Wei learned of the disaster he was stark and silent for a time. Damn that stubborn mule, Hong Buchan! He was ordered to bring that task force west to join the main fleet, but he was still heading north when this attack came in. Now he orders the remainder of the Arabian fleet to go steaming off as we plan our bombardment operation against Salaha. I must have words with Beijing….
Then he gave orders that fleet Auxiliary 920, the Anwei hospital ship, should move immediately to the scene of the attack. Called the “Peace Arc” in better times, the unarmed hospital ship was painted white, with bold red crosses so there would be no mistaking her for a combatant. Helicopters were already thumping their way off the decks of his other 28 ships in the main body. They would get there quickly to begin rescuing swamped crewmen, and taking the seriously injured to the hospital ship. Those that were sound of limb would return to serve again on ships of the main fleet, but too many would die that night, underscoring the ghastly nature of war.
At OMCOM, Admiral John Randall reviewed the BDA reports, pleased that Roosevelt had finally broken through to do some real damage. The presence of that ship alone, with its ability to strike the enemy from well beyond the range of their own missiles, was decisive. And the strikes were potent enough to wear down the defense and then sink ships. The US was following the simple maximum of warfare at sea, strike first, and do so with good effectiveness.
Yet the main body of the enemy fleet had not been engaged. The single carrier had been picking off flanking task forces, sending one home to Aden, and destroying the other. Now that main body was stubbornly holding to a course that would take it to Salaha Harbor, the big port the US has selected for the delivery of the 1st Marine Division. With the battle going well, those troops were already on the water again, and heading towards Oman.
The airfield north of that port had ten good fighters, including those Strike Raptors, but it was just 45 miles north of the harbor. That meant the enemy fleet would have it within its SAM envelope if it hove too off Salaha, which is what the Admiral now divined as the Chinese intention. It would make operations at that base difficult, for unless the inherent stealth of the fighters allowed them to remain unseen, they would be in SAM range the moment they took off. There were also more vulnerable support assets there, an E-3 Sentry, two Poseidons and a pair of KC-135 Stratotankers. There were even a couple of MC-130 Combat Talons, with a company of Army Rangers. Those would all be definitely spotted and attacked the moment they took off, so it was time to be elsewhere.
The next operational field in Oman was Masirah, on a small island just off the coast, about 325 miles to the northeast. He could order all assets at Thumrait to move there, and decided that should happen for the support planes immediately. There were also five ships in the port itself that were given orders to slip out of the harbor that night, and head north. With the enemy fleet just a little over 200 miles to the south, they were already at risk.
So at 21:00, Littoral Combat Ships Recon and Scout were escorting the cargo carrier Ocean Trader, light amphibious ship Swift, and PC Sea Hunter. The Strike Raptors had landed and the air crews were hastening to get those weapons bays reloaded. If the enemy was headed their way, they’d have something to say about it in the morning.
All this meant one thing—unless that main body was decisively defeated, and driven off before it could reach Salaha, that port was off the list for the Marines. They would have to go to Muscat, which is why the Admiral reasoned Roosevelt had hit that eastern enemy TF, to open that sea lane.
Seeing what it took to kill that TF, taking on another 28 ships in the main fleet was a daunting prospect. What they really needed now was a second carrier, and the only prospect at hand was the Independence, which was now just off the northern tip of Sumatra, some 2100 miles from the present position of Roosevelt. Even at the brisk clip of 32 knots, that was 35 hours away. So the Big Stick has to carry the weight for another day and a half, he thought. Time for the British to step up their game.
Admiral Wells was thinking the same thing aboard HMS Prince of Wales. The day had been uneventful, a blessing after the harrowing battle he had endured earlier. His carriers had been flying recon, CAP and escort missions, but no strikes. Now he informed Captain Simpson that he had a full squadron of 12 F-35’s mounted with the new SPEAR munition.
When the war came, Brimstone was seen to be all but useless as a standoff attack weapon, with only a 37 mile range. That was close, and well inside the 80 mile range of the Chinese HQ-9 SAM’s. So SPEAR was developed as the next generation standoff weapon, with a much better range of 80 nautical miles. Even if seen on enemy radars, the delivering planes could release, turn, and withdraw outside of SAM range easily enough, but it had one problem.
Like Brimstone, it had a small 8Kg warhead, so it lacked real punch against large surface combatants, and needed multiple hits to do damage. By comparison, the American GBU-53 had six times the hitting power, with a 48Kg penetrating warhead. The US considered that bomb a light strike munition, and SPEAR was a real featherweight, but at least it was something. Without it the British F-35’s really had no standoff attack capability, and could only drop short range bombs. Clearly no one in Whitehall or Whale Island seemed to take the possibility of a war like this as likely, because they were woefully unprepared for it when it came.