target, the Typhoon crew will inevitably hear the pinging of the seeker heads on their own acoustic intercept receivers and know what is coming. At this point the Mk 48's electronic guidance package determines the optimum point for detonating the warhead of each ADCAP on or near the outer hull of the Typhoon and/or Akula. And the effects will be horrendous. If the Akula is hit, it is probably dead. Game over for the enemy SSN. The Russian boomer, on the other hand, will certainly suffer massive outer hull and shock damage. In some cases a breach of the inner hull may occur, causing flooding. Should both Mk 48s hit, they may sink the missile boat immediately. But most likely the massive construction of the Typhoon will allow it to survive the impact of even a pair of ADCAPs. The large space between the inner and outer pressure hulls, as well as the Typhoon's huge reserve of buoyancy (approximately 35 percent of her displacement) will likely allow the boat to survive. If the Russian boat has survived the initial shock and flooding, it may have enough reserve buoyancy to blow its ballast tanks and fight to the surface, assuming it is not under the ice. In any case, with the hull shredded, interior compartments possibly open to the sea, and massive shock damage to the weapons and control systems, it is no longer combat ready. If the boomer has survived, it is making a terrific amount of flow noise, as well as generating mechanical transients (rattling) from the shredded edges of the damaged hull plates beating against each other.
While the torpedo endgame is being conducted, the 688I resumes its quiet routine. In addition, the crew are reloading the torpedo and countermeasures tubes as well as doing anything noisy that they deferred during the approach. Assuming that the American boat has outrun any weapons that were counterfired, it slows and begins the listening game anew. At this point the American SSN commander is faced with a choice. If the missile boat has survived, it will be fighting for its life. And while it is probably incapable of firing its complement of SS-N-20 Seahawk missiles without a major overhaul, the American boat may try to finish the job just to be sure.
And thus the hunt begins again…
Tactical Example — Hunting a Nuclear Attack Submarine
This is a job that has become both easier and harder in recent years. Since 1988 the Russian Navy has voluntarily retired a whole generation of its submarines. Many, perhaps all of the Hotel, Echo, and November classes of SSNs are reported to have been deactivated-in some cases hauled out of the water to rot while Russian naval officers seek the advice of their American counterparts on the best way to dispose of their still 'hot' reactor plants. Early Victor-class SSNs have reportedly been offered for sale to the West as ASW adversaries (the U.S. Army's National Training Center has a large supply of Soviet-made fighting vehicles, obtained through less conventional means). The Russian Navy appears to be reverting to its entirely legitimate role as its country's maritime defense force while that country's land forces continue to assume their place as that country's principal defense arm. That means a smaller Russian Navy, and one that remains closer to home.
But nuclear submarines are not necessarily creatures of one's home coast, and those Russian SSNs remaining in service are the best ever produced by that country. The Victor III is the mechanical equivalent of the American 637 (Sturgeon) class, and the Akula (the Russian word for
Tracking one of these submarines takes on the aspect of a one-on-one sporting event. And it is an event that has been played out many times since both sides acquired SSNs in the early 1960s. During this time, the Soviet forces were making preparations for a possible ground war against NATO in western Europe. And much as the German U-boat fleet did in World War II, the Soviet Navy was planning to support them with a massive surge of SSNs and SSGNs (Nuclear-Guided Missile Submarines) into the North Atlantic to stop convoys with reinforcements from reaching the NATO forces. Since proficiency in such skills takes practice, the Soviets began to have their SSNs make regular patrols into the Atlantic Ocean and near to the American coast. Usually these were conducted by newer boats such as Victor IIIs.
Part of the problem with staying ahead of the Soviets in those days was recognizing when they were using or doing something new. During the 1980s the Russians brought out a large number of new nuclear submarine classes, and early identification and classification was a top priority for the boats of the various NATO powers. Usually this was accomplished by a boat sitting at a 'gatekeeper' station off Petropavlovsk and Vladivostok (in the Pacific), and off the Kola Peninsula near Murmansk and Severodvinsk. The job of the gatekeeper was to sit and watch. Anything that went in or came out was carefully noted and catalogued. Occasionally the sub would stick an ESM/Comint mast up and sniff the air for the electronic emissions that are part of every military base in the world.
There is a story, told in whispers and with guarded glances, about one of the greatest of the gatekeeper boats and her skipper. It is only a story, and neither the U.S. Navy or Royal Navy will officially state that it ever took place, but such are the stories that come from the silent service.
Sometime in the mid-1980s a gatekeeper boat was off the Kola Inlet, doing its job day after day. The sonar watch detected a submarine coming out of the barn from Severodvinsk. When the noise signature of the power plant and the other machinery on board did not match any known class of Russian boat, the captain of the U.S. boat decided to trail it and learn all he could about this new machine. Perhaps it was the first of the Sierra- or Oscar- class boats, or even the one-of-a-kind Mike-class boat with its titanium hull and liquid sodium reactor. Whatever it was, though, the U.S. commander was intent on getting to know everything possible about the new Soviet sub. The U.S. skipper carefully and quietly started stalking the Russian boat, probably from the rear, at a short distance.
In the chase that followed, the American sub listened and watched every move of the new boat. The sounds of the propellers and the all-important blade rate, which is used to calculate the speed of a ship or submarine. All of the machinery noise from the reactor (or reactors-many Russian boats have two), turbines, and pumps. They may even have heard some of the day-to-day living noises aboard the Soviet boat. The bilge tanks being pumped out, the TDU dumping garbage, and maybe even the sounds of hatches closing and pots and pans clanging in the galley. And through it all, the American boat and her crew remained undetected by the Russian boat and any supporting vessels that might have accompanied her.
After a period of time-and here the story begins to take on the air of unreality that is a hallmark of the
Such an operation is done by running underneath the target boat, raising the periscope equipped with a low-light video camera, and running a pattern around the hull to collect the video pictures. This is so difficult and dangerous that captains of U.S. submarines are almost never ordered to try it, as bumping a target can be non- career enhancing. On the other hand, successfully gathering hull shots is a sure sign that the boat's skipper has the right stuff and is worthy of promotion to higher command. And with only a few O-6 (captain) command slots available for boomers, tenders, and squadrons, the competition is fierce among the various attack boat skippers.
What happened next was a marvel of seamanship. The American boat was able to make at least one (several tellers of the story say more) pass around the Russian sub's undersides, and not once get noticed! Up and down the sides of the Soviet boat, the American skipper drove his periscope, obtaining the broadest possible coverage of the target. The coverage apparently included the control surfaces, propellers, and several sonar arrays. The quality of the video pictures was excellent, adding much to NATO's understanding of the new Russian boat. And maybe most impressive of all, she was able to back away, continue the chase, and eventually resume her gatekeeper position off the Kola Inlet.
The achievement was so impressive in its day, so the story goes, that the skipper was awarded a 'black' Distinguished Service Cross (i.e., the recipient is unable to wear it, but the decoration appears in his service file folder or 'jacket'). While such peacetime decorations are not unprecedented, they are extremely unusual, and the award of such a thing would be an indication of how important the U.S. high command considered the action.
This is the way the game of hide-and-seek went for almost forty years between the nuclear boats of the United States and the Soviet Union. And the game continues today. Only recently, there was a
