“Okay, let me be a little more clear. The commodore has already ordered your captain to stow both the TB- 16 and TB-29 tails. Because you guys are going into really shallow water on your next run, you won’t be able to use the towed arrays. So the commodore wants to see how the crew performs against a quiet target with hull arrays only.”
“No shit, sir?” exclaimed Davidson, now considerably more interested. “Er, excuse me. You mean we get to hose over the old man, er, I mean the Captain? Kewl!”
“That’s the spirit,” replied Monroe more pleasantly.
Jerry just sat there and contemplated what was about to become his worst nightmare. Without the towed arrays, the Manta at slow speed would be a very difficult target to detect. This meant there was a good chance that LCDR Monroe would be able to take on Captain Hardy and win. The prospect filled Jerry with dread.
“Comrades, if I can have your attention please,” said Monroe as he tapped Jerry’s shoulder, bringing him out of his trancelike state. “The battle plan is as follows: We’ve intentionally sent the Manta down the hull array’s baffles so the sonar girls wouldn’t be able to cheat while we positioned the vehicle for the exercise. So now they only know that the Manta will come at them from abaft the beam. That’s still a lot of territory to keep under observation, which helps to make the exercise more realistic. We’ve also muddied the water a little more by taking a long time before things get interesting. It’s going to be an hour before
The more Jerry listened, the more he had to admire Monroe’s plan. It was brilliant, devious, and would certainly stress the sonar shack’s operators to no end. Jerry wondered if Monroe would spot the operator’s a few decibels in reduced performance due to increased system self-noise. Hardy would almost certainly be in the shack yelling at the sonar supervisor to find him his target. Jerry watched Davidson as he became more excited as the plan was explained to him. The very idea of beating the Captain at his own game was an incredibly motivating concept for the young torpedoman’s mate.
“Now, after we gain contact,” Monroe continued, “I want you to drive the Manta right across
Jerry thought for a moment and said, “Let me see if I have this straight, sir. You want me to cross astern of the target like this—” Jerry used his hands to show the relative positions of the Manta and
“Precisely, Mr. Mitchell!” said Monroe enthusiastically. “You now have a fair understanding of Russian submarine target motion analysis tactics.”
“Thank you, sir. But to be honest, I’ve heard about it before. What you’ve described is also a basic fighter maneuver called ‘lag pursuit.’ And I know how to execute that maneuver,” responded Jerry confidently.
“Very good!” replied Monroe. “Ahhh, I see that the Manta is just about at the start position. Let’s have some fun now, shall we?”
Jerry looked at the navigation display and saw that the Manta had less than one hundred yards to go. Jerry punched the manual control button and tested the joystick. The controls seemed to be sluggish. Remember, be light on the stick, Jerry thought to himself. With the Manta that far away, it would take about five seconds for the maneuvering commands to reach the vehicle and another five seconds before he would be able to see any results on his displays. After verifying that everything seemed to be operating normally, Jerry reported. “Sir, the test of the Manta’s manual controls has been completed satisfactorily. Oh, and while I don’t disagree with anything you’ve said about the low probability of a collision, Just to be safe, I’d like to start the Manta off with a one-hundred-foot depth separation.”
“A prudent suggestion, Mr. Mitchell. Very well, make your depth three five zero feet and come left to course zero four zero.”
“Make my depth three five zero feet and come left to course zero four zero, aye, sir.”
As Jerry executed the maneuver, Davidson called up the sonar displays and adjusted the brightness and contrast. The use of color made these displays easier to use than the old green screens that the sonar techs were using. And even though detection was largely automated with the Manta sonar systems, Davidson really wanted to find
“Easy there, Petty Officer Davidson,” said Monroe jokingly. “Don’t burn a hole in the flat screen by staring so hard! We’ve got a little ways to go before we even have a chance of picking up
“Yes, sir. Do you think we really have a chance?”
Monroe nodded vigorously and replied, “Absolutely! All right, Mr. Mitchell, it’s time we looked like a Russian SSN. Slow to eight knots.”
Jerry dropped the Manta’s speed by two knots and settled in for the potentially long wait. He snickered to himself as he remembered his submarine tactics instructor’s description of antisubmarine warfare, or ASW, and what it really meant was Awfully Slow Warfare. “You must be patient when you go hunting submarines,” his instructor said. “Impatience can get you killed.” But as the minutes passed, Jerry noticed that Davidson was losing interest in the sonar displays. For almost forty minutes, they refused to provide any indication of
About an hour and five minutes into the drill, Davidson was startled by something on the display. He leaned forward and stared intently for a few moments and almost shouted, “Mr. Monroe, I think I have a contact!”
“Bearing?” barked Monroe.
“Contact bears zero one zero with a moderate right bearing rate,” answered Davidson quickly.
“Very well. Mr. Mitchell, come left to zero one zero.”
“Come left to zero one zero, aye,” replied Jerry. Moments later, “Sir, steady on course zero one zero.”
Suddenly the IMC blared, “MAN BATTLE STATIONS TORPEDO!”
“Well, well, I do believe they managed to pick up our scent. Look alive now, lads, for the game is afoot!”
Monroe moved over closer to Davidson and looked at the sonar display. After a few minutes, Monroe said, “Yes indeed, a very nice two to three degree per minute right bearing rate. There is no hint of cavitation on the narrowband display either. I would definitely say we have found our adversary. Mr. Mitchell, come right to,” Monroe paused momentarily as he took one more glance at the primary detection display, “come right to zero four zero.”
“Coming right to zero four zero, aye, sir,” acknowledged Jerry. He could feel his heart rate speeding up as the hunt began.
“Sir! Possible target zig,” reported Davidson.
Monroe nearly fell off his stool as he quickly leaned over to look at the display. “Good call, Davidson. She’s either turned toward us or increased speed.” After another thirty seconds of watching, Monroe exclaimed, “Look at that bearing rate! It has shot through the roof! And still no cavitation. She’s close, and she had to have turned toward us. Mr. Mitchell, stand by to come hard left on my mark!”
“Yes, sir!” said Jerry. All three men were now totally engrossed in the engagement that was unfolding before them.
Monroe monitored the sonar display carefully and slowly raised his left hand, poised to signal his order. “Contact has just past through CPA, aaaand mark! Hard left rudder! Mr. Mitchell, steady on course three four zero, increase speed to twelve knots, and execute your lag pursuit maneuver!”
“Coming hard left to three four zero, increasing speed to twelve knots, and beginning lag pursuit!” replied Jerry excitedly. Gently pushing the joystick over, Jerry pulled the Manta through a tight turn and crossed behind
