Dangerous Ground

Both were curious as to what was going to happen and asked some legitimate questions. Jerry responded that he wasn’t at liberty to discuss it, but that all would be clear soon. This only made the two even more curious, and they peppered him with even more questions. Jerry was about to order the two of them to shut up when he saw a squadron staffer walk into the torpedo room. Motioning for Greer and Davidson to hush, Jerry pointed to the lieutenant commander who was approaching them.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Mitchell. I’m Lieutenant Commander Andy Monroe. Are you ready to launch the Manta?”

Doesn’t waste any time, does he? Jerry thought. Well, I can deal with that. “Yes, sir. We’re ready, any time you want. My team is assembled and I’ve already performed the preflight maintenance check.” Jerry then pointed to the two petty officers and said, “This is TM2 Greer and FT2 Davidson. They will be assisting me during the launch and recovery.”

“Very good,” said Monroe as he shook their hands. “I’ll inform the commodore that we are ready to begin.” Picking up the phone, Monroe called control. While Monroe was busy talking to the commodore, Jerry sent Greer aft to the engine room to monitor the mechanical indications of the launch process and to use the manual overrides if a problem arose. Davidson sat down next to Jerry and would assist him at the control console and be Jerry’s communications link with Greer. Jerry put on his own communications headset, a high-tech version of the bulky sound-powered phone set, and waited for control to come on the line.

“Man Manta launch stations,” squawked the IMC. Soon thereafter, Jerry heard the Chief of the Watch announce on the sound-powered phones, “All stations, control, control on the line.”

“Control, U-bay. U-bay on the line,” responded Jerry.

“U-bay?” asked Monroe with a puzzled look on his face.

“We had to call it something, sir,” said Jerry defensively. “And we couldn’t use Manta control or UUV control; that would be too confusing. So we called it U-bay, you know like e-bay, only it means UUV bay.”

“Yeah, right. Whatever,” said Monroe, who didn’t looked impressed. “How long before the nav system is aligned and ready to go?”

“It’s ready now, sir,” replied Jerry. “The Manta uses a strapdown ring-laser gyro for the inertial navigation system.”

“Very well. Proceed with the launch.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Jerry reached over and picked up a small yellow binder with all the Manta procedures in it. He opened the laminated pages to the launch section. Using a grease pencil, Jerry and Davidson went down the procedure one step and a time and marked off each step as it was accomplished.

“Control, U-bay. Request ship’s speed be reduced to four knots,” said Jerry.

“Request ship’s speed be reduced to four knots. Control aye.”

Knowing that it would take a little while for Memphis to drop to the launch speed, Jerry continued with the checklist.

“Retracting battery umbilical cable,” announced Jerry as he pushed the button on the touch screen. The display paused for a moment and then indicated that the cable had been detached from the Manta and stowed in the docking structure.

“Engine room upper level reports the umbilical has been retracted and stowed,” stated Davidson.

“Very well. Flooding docking skirt and equalizing to sea pressure,” said Jerry as he activated several of the onscreen controls. A few moments later, Davidson reported, “Engine room upper level reports the docking skirt flooded and equalized to sea pressure.”

Jerry acknowledged the report and looked over his shoulder toward Monroe, “Sir, where do you want the Manta to go after launch?”

“Have the Manta assume station five hundred yards off the starboard quarter after launch. However, during the exercise, you’ll pilot the vehicle directly. Understood?”

“Yes, sir. I understand completely,” Jerry replied. Davidson looked at his division officer with a puzzled expression. It was unusual for someone to manually pilot the Manta; its whole design was predicated on operating largely without continuous human guidance. Jerry saw the questioning look on Davidson’s face and motioned for him to stay on the checklist.

“U-bay, control. Ship’s speed is now four knots,” said the Chief of the Watch.

“Very well, control.” Jerry leaned over and looked at the checklist Davidson was holding and saw that there was only one step left. “Control, U-bay. Request permission to launch the Manta.”

“Request permission to launch the Manta. Control aye.” Jerry waited only a few moments before the Chief of the Watch passed on the Captain’s approval, “U-bay, control. Permission granted to launch the Manta.”

“Very well, control.” Jerry detached the docking latches and then pushed the LAUNCH button. The rest of the launching sequence was done automatically by the Manta’s programming.

“Engine room upper level reports the docking latches have detached and the Manta has lifted off the docking skirt,” said Davidson.

Jerry nodded as the telemetry update from the Manta through the acoustic modem was coming in strong. He watched closely as the UUV’s position on the display moved away from Memphis. Everything seemed to be working fine and after a minute, the Manta had assumed its position on Memphis’ starboard quarter. Turning to LCDR Monroe, Jerry reported, “Sir, Manta on station and ready to maneuver.”

“Very well,” replied Monroe. Taking his clipboard, Monroe recorded Memphis’ course and speed on a miniature maneuvering board-plotting sheet. He then drew a couple of lines, pulled out a pocket ruler and measured something. Satisfied with his results, Monroe looked at Jerry and said, “Mr. Mitchell, I want you to send the Manta five thousand yards dead astern of Memphis. I trust the acoustic modem will allow that?”

“Yes, sir, easily. Depending on the acoustic conditions, we could have three times that range.”

“Excellent. Once the Manta reaches that position, turn it around and match Memphis’ course and speed. I’ll give you the next leg at that time.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” replied Jerry as he typed in the new position and the necessary course and speed. The Manta peeled off to the right and headed directly away from Memphis at ten knots. He also noticed that the boat had started to increase speed again and was at six knots. Probably going back to a normal one-third bell, or about seven knots, thought Jerry. Doing some quick math in his head, Jerry figured out about how long it would take for the Manta to reach the end of the first leg. “Commander Monroe, it will take a little less than ten minutes for the Manta to reach the designated location.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mitchell” was all Jerry received in response. The next nine minutes passed by in silence as Jerry watched the navigation screen on the control console display.

“Sir, the Manta is five thousand yards astern on course zero four zero degrees, speed seven knots,” reported Jerry.

“Very well,” responded Monroe. “Mr. Mitchell, the second leg is another five thousand yards perpendicular to the present course. Have the Manta steer course one three zero degrees at ten knots. And while you are at it, how long till the Manta reaches the end of the second leg?”

With perpendicular courses, thought Jerry, only the Manta’s speed mattered. Again, after a little mental gymnastics, he came up with the answer. “Fifteen minutes, sir.”

“Correct. And that’s when we get to the good part.”

“Sir, may I ask what we are supposed to be doing during this drill?” asked an unbearably curious Davidson. “I don’t have a clue as to what is going on.”

“Certainly, Petty Officer Davidson. You and Lieutenant Mitchell here are the faithful crew of my Russian nuclear-powered attack submarine. Mr. Mitchell is my helmsman and you are my sonar shack. Together we are going to make a mock attack on Memphis, using the Manta.”

“Well, this should be quick,” said Davidson sarcastically. “With a TB-29 towed array, Memphis will make short work of us. The Manta ain’t that quiet.”

“Do not lose heart, comrade,” answered Monroe in a dreadful Russian accent. “Saint Nicholas — or is it Saint Andrew? Oh well, whomever it is, he will protect us and Mother Russia from those imperialists.”

“Huh, sir? I don’t get it.”