Joe Weber
Dancing with the Dragon
About the author
Best-selling author Joe Weber was a carrier-qualified fighter/attack-trained pilot for the Unite States Marine Corps. After his release from active duty Weber flew commercially until 1989.
Prologue
The People's Republic of China poses the most dangerous as well as least manageable military threat the United States faces early in the twenty-first century. During the year 2000, China's leaders proclaimed in a white paper, "The One-China Principle," that if the Taiwan authorities do not agree on a peaceful settlement of reunification through negotiations, Beijing would be compelled to use military force to bring Taipei into compliance.
The Taiwan Relations Act, public law 96-8, April 10, 1979, stipulates that an assault on the island of Taiwan will be countered by the armed forces of the United States of America. Invading Taiwan is tantamount to invading the United States.
In a confrontation between the United States and China, Beijing would need only local military superiority in the narrow confines of the Taiwan Strait to counterbalance American capability. Short of striking the Chinese mainland, there is no guarantee that U.S. forces would prevail in such a scenario.
The years since the Tiananmen Square massacre have been very tenuous for Chinese-American relations. Every time Beijing and Washington seem to be making positive diplomatic progress, disaster strikes. The accidental bombing of the Chinese Embassy in Belgrade in May of 1999 caused a crisis from which Chinese-U.S. relations have never fully recovered. The tragic incident left a gnawing sense of uncertainty in Beijing and deepened nationalistic, anti-American sentiment in many Chinese citizens.
The diplomatic abyss widened on March 22, 2001,when Singapore allowed, for the first time, a U.S. Navy aircraft carrier to make a port call in the Republic of Singapore. The USS Kitty Hawk's visit to the new Changi Naval Base had a significant impact on Beijing. Chinese leaders viewed the port call as an official announcement of yet another U.S. naval base in the region, one with direct access to the South China Sea. Senior Chinese military officers considered the de facto U.S. base a frontline port in the escalating confrontation between China and the United States.
On March 31, 2001, nine days after Kitty Hawk arrived in Singapore, the uneasiness between Washington and Beijing snowballed into a quasi crisis when a Chinese fighter plane collided with a U.S. reconnaissance aircraft. Following the midair collision, which destroyed the jet fighter and killed its pilot, the navy EP-3E Aries II had to make an emergency landing on the Chinese island of Hainan. The crew of twenty-four men and women were detained until April 12, 2001. Relations between the two countries took a dangerous nosedive before both sides stepped back from the brink.
The spy-plane affair reminded the world that China is an authoritarian, one-party state, resistant to political change, and dependent on its military, the ultimate power broker. The generals of the People's Liberation Army exploit emotional issues like the damaged reconnaissance plane to rally the citizenry against the United States and to legitimize their regime.
Faced with a new U.S. administration, China timed its belligerence to make a point. The United States is the only barrier to Chinese ambitions in Southeast Asia, particularly in the South China Sea. The military and civilian leaders in Beijing, believing the United States to be fundamentally lazy and corrupt, were not sure whether the newly elected U.S. president would stand up to a resurgent China, or whether he would expose the softness of Washington's willpower.
The standoff with China prompted the United States to revise its defense strategy to focus primarily on Asia rather than on Europe as the next potential battle theater. From the "think tanks" to the White House it was clear that China wanted nothing less than to replace the United States as the dominate force in Southeast Asia, if not the world.
On June 1, 2001, two months after the dustup over the U.S. Navy reconnaissance aircraft, Beijing state media announced large-scale Chinese war games that would include a practice invasion of an island near Taiwan. Code-named "Liberation One," the exercises included nearly ten thousand troops, amphibious tanks, missile units, submarines, warships, marine units, and Russian-manufactured Sukhoi Su-27 fighter aircraft.
The extensive war games also included a mock attack on an aircraft carrier. The drill was designed with a U.S. carrier battle group in mind. The announcement ended with a warning not to underestimate Beijing's determination to use force to rein in Taiwan.
With a combination of favorable economic conditions, open ambitions in the region, and a growing military, Beijing was increasing tensions with Taiwan and other Asian neighbors. The long-range plans of the expansionist dictatorship guaranteed more confrontations with the United States, and more questions from Beijing. Would Washington continue its delicate dance with the dragon, and possibly trade Los Angeles for Taipei in a face-off with China, or would the United States quietly leave the South China Sea?
Many of Beijing's questions were answered when the Islamic extremists attacked the United States on September 11, 2001. In the aftermath of the destruction of the World Trade Center, the damage to the Pentagon, the crashed airliners, and the thousands of dead and injured U.S. citizens, the American people had galvanized behind their president. Not since Pearl Harbor had their resolve been as strong and resilient. The message: "Assault the United States of America and we will rise up to vanquish you arid your ilk."
Would Beijing view America's commitment to a long-term war on terrorism as an inherent U.S. weakness in the South China Sea and Asia? Would they miscalculate Washington's resolve to defend the democratic island nation of Taiwan and attempt to settle the issue on Beijing's terms by using force?
Chapter 1
Knifing through the calm seas off the coast of southern California, USS Abraham Lincoln and her battle group turned into the wind for the last aircraft launch of the evening. High above the Nimitz-class supercarrier, a luminous commander's moon dominated a black canvas splashed with millions of twinkling stars. Except for a few isolated thunderstorms in the southern California operating area, the balmy night was perfect for carrier training exercises.
The slippery flight deck, dangerous enough during the day, but extremely hazardous during night operations, was alive with airplanes, tow tractors, yellow-shirted aircraft directors, and green-shifted aviation boatswain's mates prepping the two forward catapults. Bathed in a soft haze of red floodlights, shadowy figures with yellow flashlight-wands carefully guided pilots around the crowded maze of airplanes waiting to taxi to the catapults.
From bow to stern, the 4.5-acre flight deck of Abraham Lincoln was a genuinely hostile environment of screaming jet engines, blazing exhaust gases, whirling propeller blades, guillotine-like arresting gear cables, and foul-smelling catapult steam mixed with jet fuel and salt spray.
Listening to the low whine of his two jet engines, Lt. Comdr. Sammy Bonello saw two wands of light suddenly flash on in front of his plane. The time had arrived — no turning back now.
Following the taxi director, Bonello released the Super Hornet's brakes and taxied his sleek two-seat F/A-18F across the jet-blast deflector behind the starboard bow catapult. Despite all my years as a fighter pilot, these night carrier operations still give me the creeps, he thought.
Unlike day operations, when pilots can visually and viscerally tell if a catapult shot is good, night operations rob aviators of critical visual cues. When the catapult fires, the pilot accelerates under heavy G-forces straight into a seemingly endless black hole. The sensation is an eerie feeling of being completely at the mercy of fate. To say the least, night catapult shots and landings (traps) on the boat are character-building exercises.