Other aspects of the Triumph lifestyle closely parallel that on Miami. Water is in short supply, and Navy showers are the rule. The crew uses many kinds of equipment, like the TDU, which any American submariner would feel quite at home with. Watches are roughly the same, with the same problems of having to “hot bunk.” The daily routine includes lots of drills of all varieties, ranging from damage control to tactical drills. As for messages from home, the RN seems to follow the U.S. practice of “Familygrams,” though probably not quite as often. It is a good life at sea, and the men enjoy it.
HMS Triumph (S-93). U.K. MINISTRY OF DEFENCE
Roles and Missions
The folks in the U.S. Navy Undersea Warfare Office (N-87) call them “Roles and Missions.” Whatever you call them, these are the tasks that are currently defined for nuclear submarines. Up until very recently, though, just discussing them was cause for extreme discomfort (based upon security regulations) on the part of the senior leadership of the handful of navies that operate SSNs. Now, because of the Cold War’s coming to an end and the need to justify the costs of building and operating submarines, those same leaders are letting the world have a peek at just what their boats have done, and still do. In some cases, they are acknowledging for the first time missions that have been conducted for decades. Let’s take a look.
Mission #1—Antisubmarine Warfare
The premier ASW platform is and probably will remain another submarine. The reasons for this are defined by the basic advantage of the submarine over other antisubmarine platforms. Environmental factors define the sub’s ability to hide. Water temperature, the location of thermocline layers, variations in salinity, and ambient noise sources all are part of the three-dimensional realm of the submarine. The sub lives in that environment and monitors it constantly. Surface ships and aircraft can use their instruments to take snapshots, but they cannot have the broad view that a submarine commander has. Just as ground-based surface-to-air missiles and antiaircraft guns can impede but not deny aircraft the use of the sky, so can surface warships not control the depths of the sea. That’s the job of the SSN.
Tactical Example—Stalking a Russian SSBN
They’re still out there. They’re called boomers in the U.S. Navy, bombers in the Royal Navy. They are the fleet ballistic missile submarines, really creatures of the past Cold War era, but they still sail, and their missiles must be aimed at something—what that something might be, their owners do not say. The Russian ones are probably aimed at the United States, and the American ones at Russia, rather in the manner of a “default” setting on a computer or washing machine. One Russian boomer captain was recently quoted as saying that the target packages on his boat’s missiles had not changed, and in fact they might be aimed at some of the nations currently supplying aid to the CIS (Commonwealth of Independent States). Until such time as these dinosaurs are relegated to the past, it is only prudent to keep an eye on them, and that is one mission of the SSN. When a Russian/CIS (formerly Soviet) SSBN departs its home port on the Kola Peninsula, waiting out at sea (possibly in a depression in the sea floor called a “tongue of the ocean”) will be a NATO SSN. Probably. Almost certainly, in fact. The mission of the SSN and her crew will be to shadow the Russian SSBN.
The mission is not exactly a friendly one. Should a sudden crisis arise, the SSN’s job is to close and destroy the missile boat before she can launch her birds. Short of that exigency, the SSN remains in trail, listening. There is much to learn. Probably the SSN’s CO knows the name (or hull number) of the boat he’s watching, and he observes the other CO’s habits to add to what we already know. He’ll listen to the boat, determining her unique mechanical characteristics so that other SSNs can identify her by her acoustic signature. Other observations will tell us much of the quality of the crew, changes in Russian operational doctrine, and from the boat’s day-to-day routine, drills and readiness.
It’s not quite that easy, of course. Soviet SSBNs are frequently accompanied by their own SSN guardians. Thus the Western submarine must track—and evade detection by—two adversaries who themselves have carefully thought-out routines for dealing with a potential shadower. This can be as simple as running the boomer at high speed toward her protecting SSN, forcing the trailing boat to move quickly herself and so make more noise than the U.S. skipper might wish. Noise is death in this business, and as important as the mechanical characteristics of the platform are, the commander with the most brains has the ultimate advantage.
The mission may be something from the past, but its immediacy hasn’t changed. The warheads on those missile submarines are still real. Their aiming points are unknown, but so long as they exist, and so long as men can change their minds, they represent a danger to America and her allies. The smart move is to eliminate the warheads through diplomatic means. Until that happens, eliminating them in other ways will continue to be an option that our leaders will wish to have at their disposal.
So just how does one hunt such a beast? First you must learn its habits and characteristics, and like everything else in this world, the characteristics of the Russian boomer fleet are rapidly changing. With the drawdown in the CIS fleet, and the stipulations of the new START-II arms control treaty, the force of Russian boomers is becoming smaller. By the turn of the century they will probably have only fifteen to twenty missile boats altogether. The ones they keep are going to be the newest, most quiet boats in their fleet. This means that a Western SSN commander is likely to be hunting either a Delta IV or Typhoon-class boat. Both these types of submarine have the latest in quieting technology available to the CIS Navy. To the SSN commander hunting one, this means that even with his advantage in acoustic detection and tracking, which used to allow him to detect and track a target at ranges of tens of thousands of yards, now it’s likely that solid contacts will be obtained at ranges of thousands of yards.
Russian Typhoon-class missile submarine running on the surface. OFFICIAL U.S. NAVY PHOTO
Another problem for potential hunters of Russian SSBNs results from the manner in which they are employed and deployed. One of the early goals of missile designers in the former Soviet Union was to make the ranges of their sub-launched missiles as long as possible. It is an acknowledged fact that CIS boomers can launch their missiles at targets in the continental United States from alongside piers at their Kola Peninsula bases. Consequently the only reason the Russian leadership has for moving them is to hide them against possible attack by aircraft or missiles. And like prized jewels, the CIS Navy tends to place them in the maritime equivalent of bank vaults: the “boomer bastions.”
Bastions were originally created to place Soviet SSBNs beyond the reach of Western ASW forces. While the actual location and layout of a boomer bastion is a highly sensitive subject in both the Pentagon and the Kremlin, the basic concept is quite simple: an SSBN is placed in a patrol area that is highly defendable and as remote from Western operating areas as possible. The Barents Sea, the Kara Gulf, the Sea of Okhotsk, and even sites under the polar ice pack have been suggested as possible bastion areas. This may mean the SSBN is placed in an area with entrances that are easily defended, or it might be surrounded by a belt of ASW mines. In addition, it probably is aggressively defended by Russian attack submarines, maritime patrol aircraft, and, if available, surface ASW groups.
Clearly, a boomer bastion is not the kind of target a carrier battle group is going to take on. In fact, a modern SSN is the only platform that can even begin to think about penetrating the bastions and pursuing the Russian SSBNs contained therein. Back in the early 1980s the U.S. maritime strategy had NATO trying to actively pursue the Soviet boomers in their lairs. Today the task is made more difficult by the decreased size of the NATO SSN force and the greater stealth of the CIS SSBNs.
Let’s assume that Western intelligence services manage to find a boomer bastion. The method is not particularly important—it might be a satellite photo of a missile boat breaking through the polar ice during a missile drill, or rad
io traffic from a supporting surface group. For our purposes, though, we will assume that the target is a Typhoon-class SSBN being protected by an Akula-class SSN. Their bastion area is a parcel of the Barents Sea that overlaps the polar ice pack in what is called the marginal ice zone. The interface between the polar pack and the marginal ice zone is an extremely complex acoustic environment. All the noise from the ice floes breaking apart and grinding together makes it very difficult to locate and track an opposing submarine. In addition the boomer, much like a rat in a warehouse, has a back door to run to under the ice. For this reason, only the most capable of American submarines, an Improved Los Angeles (688I), is suitable.
After a transit to the presumed bastion area, the 688I begins to listen. It maintains a low speed, probably around 5 knots, to optimize the performance of its towed arrays. As the 688I finally enters the target zone, the tracking team in the control room utilizes every sensor and capability of the BSY-1 system to locate and track the opposing boats. This is vital because of the background noises in the ocean (waves, fish, marine mammals, etc.), as well as the noise coming from the ice pack. The first contact is going to have to be a “direct path” contact, so the 688I searches, running in a series of expanding boxes until the first contact is achieved. This contact, which might be either the Typhoon or the Akula, is none too exact with regards to range, but bearing information is enough to continue the hunt. The hunt now becomes a task of patience. The boat will probably go to the quietest routine possible, as the closure to attack might take many hours.
While the American commander probably prefers to avoid the Akula by moving around the Typhoon and using it to mask the 688I’s own noise signature, the extensive quieting on the Typhoon will probably preclude this. It simply would be too easy to miss the boomer and stumble into the Akula. Again, patience and stealth is the best tactic of the American boat. The goal at this point is to hold a sonar contact on the Typhoon while trying to avoid the Akula. The key moment comes when a firing solution is finally generated by the BSY-1, hopefully within the CO’s designated firing range. Normally it would be helpful to take the time to establish a solid solution to the target to increase the chances of a hit on the first shot. But “polishing the cannonball” with such opponents as the Typhoon and the Akula could cost the chance to get the first shot in. With the tracking capabilities of the Mk 48 ADCAP torpedo, and the danger posed by the Akula, it is now in the best interests of the 688I to “shoot and scoot.” As soon as the solution on Typhoon is good enough, the American commander probably orders the launching of a pair of Mk 48 ADCAPs. Each is likely to be launched about 12 degrees off the intercept course (left and right) to the target, so as to cover the entire front 180-degree sector of the 688I. The fish are probably launched in the BSY-1’s Short Range Attack (SRA) mode at the high-speed setting, the guidance wires are cut, and the seeker mode is set to active pinging. If he knows the bearing to the Akula, the American commander may choose to fire his other two torpedoes in SRA mode down that bearing also.
With the torpedoes heading on their own toward the Typhoon, the American boat can now run for its own safety (called “clearing datum”). The captain of the 688I is probably going to kick up the speed as fast as possible (over 30 knots), launch some decoys or other countermeasures from the 3-inch signal ejector tubes, and go as deep as the local seabed and the capabilities of the boat will allow. If it’s done right, the American boat should have a lead of several miles before one of the Russian boats can launch a torpedo in response. This they will do, though, and the American boat is sure to have one or more Russian torpedoes headed in its direction. But the CIS subs are also running for their lives, kicking out decoys and countermeasures and desperately trying to maneuver out of the way of the oncoming ADCAPs. But with a speed of 60-plus knots and a seeker head that can see targets almost 180 degrees around it, the simple fact is that no submarine afloat can outrun an ADCAP. The encounter now moves to the endgame.
The angling of the torpedoes from the 688I is designed to ensure that at least one of the Mk 48 ADCAPs will “acquire” the Typhoon, though in about two-thirds of the situations, both weapons should track. At this point the Russian boomer is going all out to evade the incoming weapons. It launches countermeasures, trying to jam the seeker heads of the torpedoes and outmaneuver them. This probably will not work. As the Mk 48s close on the 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 shark, applied to that class by NATO after the West ran out of letter-code designators) is reportedly equivalent to an early 688 (Los Angeles) class. They are, in a word, close enough in performance to Western SSNs that the skill of the captain and crew becomes the deciding factor.
Tracking one of these submarines takes on the aspect of a one-on-one sporting event. And it is an event that has bee
n 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.