Stephen Makk
USS Stonewall Jackson
Chapter 1
“RIG TRIM TO ASCEND fore and aft. Up angle fifteen degrees. Make for periscope depth.”
“Periscope depth, Sir.” The planesman pulled back on the yoke and the deck tilted upwards. The control room crew leaned to compensate. After a short time, the planesman pushed the yoke forward and the boat came level.
“At periscope depth, Sir.” All on board felt the gentle rise and fall of the ocean swell.
The submarine Seopung is a medium size diesel-electric vessel at 2,800 tons, developed from the earlier Sinpo class boats.
“Signals Officer, raise the communications buoy.”
“Sir.” The buoy streamed up to the surface held on its cable.
“What’s our position Lieutenant Rhee?” The Communications Officer read off the latitude and longitude to the Navigation Officer, who plotted it on the chart.
“Sir, datum bearing two six five degrees, point seven kilometres.”
“Planesman come to two six five. Maintain speed.”
Captain Kwon Hwan, of the Korean People’s Navy, calculated the time to the datum.
“Check our position.”
“Coming up on datum Sir.”
“Very good, coast the boat.” The revs dropped off and the boat slowed.
The Navigation Officer worked on his chart.
“Sir, we’re at datum now.” Kwon raised the periscope did a three hundred and sixty sweep.
He flipped the handles upwards and lowered the periscope.
Pride of the Navy, the Seopung an SSB (Strategic Submarine Ballistic) was ready. It was time for the ballistic missile submarine Seopung, West Wind, to announce its nuclear missile presence to the world.
“Weapons Officer ready missile tube one.” The Weapons Officer set several buttons and switches on the console he sat at, and waited for a digital display counter to reach the correct value.
“Ready for missile launch Sir. Target is T1.”
“Open tube one door.” The circular cover on the vertical tube swung open.
“Door open, Sir.” This was it, thought Kwon; please go well.
“Launch tube one.”
There was a vibration and a rushing sound from up forward as the compressed air was forced into the launch tube. The missile climbed out and upwards, broke the surface, and its solid rocket motor ignited. The Pukgukson-3 ballistic missile roared skywards on a tower of flame. As it gained altitude the exhaust gimbaled and the missile started to arc toward its apogee, the highest point in its flight. Now in space, the missile started its curving fall back into the atmosphere. In the atmosphere heat built up on the outer skin of the warhead. T1 is eight hundred and ninety miles downrange. The missile plunged into the Pacific some 1,020 miles off the Californian coast. The Seopung now streamed her communications buoy on the surface by cable.
A North Korean cargo ship temporarily equipped with a P-35M BARLOCK-B E/F-band target search radar sailed south of the expected ground zero, tracking the missile as it reached its impact point. The radar had been taken from an SA-5 Gammon surface to air missile system. The ship sent a coded signal to Naval HQ in Pyongyang North Korea and the Seopung.
“T1 has been achieved, strike confirmed,” reported the Communications Officer.
“Yes!” exclaimed Kwon, and clenched his fist.
“Close tube one door. Run the tape and transmit.”
The Communications Officer hit the tape start and transmit buttons. The tape was a repeated recording of ‘Aegukka’, the North Korean national anthem. “Let morning shine on the silver and gold of this land…”
The anthem played seven times then stopped.
“Rewind and stow the buoy. Flood forward. Open and trim vents fore and aft. Make for depth. Down angle fifteen degrees, make for depth two hundred and thirty feet. Speed fourteen knots, bearing three hundred and fifty five degrees.”
“Two eight five at seventy, speed fourteen, Sir.” The deck angled down to the bow, and the boat dived on the start of her journey back to homeport. She’d head North to Canadian waters and make her way along the coast of British Columbia. Then it would be westward, just south of the Aleutian Islands. Kwon expected the Americans to search directly west of the launch point.
“YES, SIR. I KNOW. YES, it’s unacceptable.” Admiral Koch sat with his elbow on the desk, his left hand on his forehead. He listened to the National Security Adviser and Chief of Defense staff taking turns to chew his ass. “No Sir, we can’t track everything. I know.” He stood.
“Sir I’m going to make sure they regret this.” There was a pause. “Yes, Sir. I understand, the ROE just got shoved up a buffalo’s ass.” He shook his head, and listened to the Chief of Defense staff, who he knew was an Air Force fighter jock, and therefore just a poser.
“I have a man in mind, Sir. He’s a plank owner.” The Admiral smiled. “That means he knows what he’s goddam doing. I’m sure the National Security Adviser is pissed Sir, but it’s time you got that monkey’s dick out of my ear and let me get on with the job. I will Sir.”
Admiral Koch put the phone down. “Assholes.”
He paced the room for a few minutes, then left his office and walked into his outer office, where his private secretary Petty Officer Cindy Seebring sat working at her computer.
“Cindy, get me COMSUBPAC on the line.”
She glanced at the clock. “Sir, it is five AM at Pearl Harbor.”
“I don’t care a rat’s ass. And get me a coffee.”
“Yes, Sir.”
She walked into his office a few minutes later with a coffee. “Here, Sir. They’re getting him up.”
“Thanks.”
His desk phone rang. “Sir, I have Rear Admiral Sutton on the line.”
“Thanks.” The line clicked. “Sooty, sorry to get you up.”
“Hi, Sandy. It’s o dark hundred here. I figure it’s urgent.”
“Yeah, you’ll probably see a story on CNN today, it’ll leak no doubt. About four hours ago a Korean People’s Navy SSB launched a missile from the Pacific, it splashed down about a thousand miles north east of you. There was no warhead.”
“Jeez, that far across the Pacific? I guess it had to happen sometime, they’re obviously making solid progress with the missile technology.”
“No Sooty, the bird flew about eight hundred and twenty miles. They launched from about two hundred and seventy miles north west of San Francisco.”
“What? We thought about halfway to Hawaii would be about the max range of the new Sinpo class, and that was at a push!”
“Yeah, well we need to think that one again. The bastards launched to the north east and then stayed around to broadcast their national anthem. We can’t keep the lid on that one. They’ll no doubt be on the way back now. We have P8-Poseidons on the way. They’ll fly the likely routes searching for her. I’m going to get COMSEVENTHFLT, Yokosuka to deploy assets, it’ll be a good number of days before she’s back in their patch though.”
“I’ll get one of our boats looking out for her too.”
Koch stood and walked over to the window, he looked over the Washington skyline. “Sooty, I got my balls chewed off by NSA Stockhaisen and the Chief of Defense staff. They want ass, and they want it now. The line’s been crossed, I want you to…”
LIEUTENANT COMMANDER Lemineux, the boat’s Communications Officer handed Commander Nathan Blake a communications slip.
“This just came in from COMSUBPAC Sir.”