The P-8A Poseidon, call sign Mad Fox zero-four, cruised at thirty thousand feet, circling above its station in the Gulf of Mexico. The P-8A, a modified Boeing 737-800ERX, was the replacement for the venerable P-3C Orion submarine hunter aircraft, sporting an array of technological improvements coupled with next-generation GPS-capable sonobuoys and a significant enhancement in weapon payload. The P-8As carried five HAAWCs (High Altitude ASW Weapon Capability)—MK 54 torpedoes with wing kits. Once the torpedo was ejected, the HAAWC’s wings popped out and guided the torpedo, changing its descent angle and course as required, aiming for a GPS coordinate in the ocean.
Despite the improvements incorporated into the P-8A, there had been two steps backward in the new aircraft’s design. The first was that the P-8As lacked the magnetic anomaly detection equipment carried aboard its predecessor, since it patrolled at a much higher altitude, and the second was a minor but somewhat annoying deficiency: Lieutenant Commander George Stringer, the crew’s Tactical Coordinator or TACCO, in charge of the personnel in the aircraft’s cabin, had no window to look through.
The P-8A had only two observer windows in the forward portion of the cabin. If he’d had a window, Stringer might have been able to spot another of the P-8As forming a line stretching six hundred miles across the Gulf, from Mexico to the Florida Keys.
Stringer took a break from his duties and leaned back in his chair, glancing at the other four watchstanders in the cabin: Sensor One and Sensor Two monitored the data relayed from the sonobuoy field floating below, and Sensor Three manned the surface search radar and infrared sensor, capable of detecting submarine periscopes or the hot exhaust from a snorkel mast in case a submarine was running its diesel generator. Lieutenant Jeff Hanover, the crew’s Communicator and only other officer in the cabin, sat at the NavCom station.
Stringer pressed his hands to his headphones, listening closely to the report being transmitted over the aircraft’s Internal Communication System.
“TACCO, Sensor Two. Have a contact, buoy two-one, bearing two-four-eight, up doppler. Contact is approaching distro field from the south, classified POS SUB Medium. Request box sonobuoy pattern built off buoy two-one.”
Sensor Two had detected a contact with a medium probability it was a submarine, approaching buoy 21 on a bearing of 248. But the sonobuoys in the distributed field were spaced so far apart that they held the contact on only one buoy, so they needed to drop a more closely spaced sonobuoy field to determine the contact’s position, course, and speed.
Stringer turned his attention to his display, noting the location of sonobuoy 21, which transmitted its position to the P-8A sensor suite, waiting while Lieutenant Hanover calculated the placement of the new buoys in the box pattern built off buoy 21.
“TACCO, NavCom. All expendable drop points calculated.”
After reviewing the coordinates for the new buoy field, Stringer sent them to the cockpit. “Flight, TACCO. Here’s your expendable points.”
The Patrol Plane Commander replied, “TACCO, Flight. Coming left to Expendable One.”
Mad Fox zero-four turned west as the crew prepared to drop their closely spaced field of sonobuoys. A moment later, the buoys left the P-8A one by one, splashing into the ocean.
“Command Post, Hydroacoustic! Close aboard splashes, port and starboard sides!”
Captain Lieutenant Urnovitz acknowledged Hydroacoustic’s report, then selected the Captain’s stateroom on his communication panel, requesting his presence in the Command Post.
Plecas arrived a moment later. “What have you got?”
“Close aboard splashes. Looks like a sonobuoy field is being laid around us. First pass on an east–west axis.”
Another announcement over the Command Post speakers interrupted Urnovitz’s report. “Command Post, Hydroacoustic. Another series of splashes ahead.”
“Man Combat Stations,” Plecas ordered. “This is the Captain. I have the Conn.”
Urnovitz passed the order to man Combat Stations, followed by an order to Hydroacoustic. “Send triangulation ranges from the spherical and towed arrays to fire control.”
Although Kazan’s passive sonar systems could normally determine only a target’s bearing, if the contacts were extremely close, such as the buoys being dropped around them, their range could be estimated by triangulating the bearings from the spherical and towed array sonars. As Plecas peered over the nearest fire controlman’s shoulder, the buoys appeared on the geographic display. Two rows formed, each with four sonobuoys, both rows almost perpendicular to Kazan’s course. They were passing through the first row now, two buoys to starboard and two buoys to port, with the second row two thousand yards ahead.
“Command Post, Hydroacoustic. Third row of buoys being dropped.”
A third row of contacts appeared on the screen, beyond the first two rows. Kazan was passing through the sonobuoy field, and the only thing they could do until they exited was maximize their distance from each buoy, splitting the distance equally between them.
“Steersman, come right to course three-five-zero,” Plecas ordered. “Ahead one-third.”
Kazan turned slightly right, threading its way between the second row of sonobuoys, slowing to reduce the signature from its main engines and screw.
In the Command Post, the submarine’s First Officer and another twenty men hurriedly donned their sound-powered phone headsets, energizing the dormant consoles and plot displays. Combat Stations brought the ship to a combat footing as the crew prepared to fight and defend itself. But against an aircraft dropping sonobuoys, there was nothing to attack. Their sole aim was to protect themselves if the aircraft dropped a torpedo, speeding away from the Splash Point as soon as possible while they tried to fool the torpedo with decoys.
George Stringer adjusted the GEN track on his screen so it agreed with the data from the two buoys holding the contact. A submarine in the middle of a buoy field this tightly packed would normally have been held on at least four buoys, but if this was a submarine, it was a quiet one indeed, held on only two. But now that they held the contact, he needed to determine the target’s solution.
The contact parameters on Stringer’s display turned from amber to green, indicating the automated algorithms agreed with his solution for the target’s position, course, and speed. The next step was to decide whether the contact was a submarine. After assessing the indications, he made the call.
“All stations, TACCO. Set Battle Condition One.”
Each member of the crew, from the pilots to the Sensor Operators, pulled out their weapon release checklists, methodically accomplishing each step.
Stringer continued his calculations, determining the Splash Point for their torpedo, placing it in an optimum position to detect the submarine once the torpedo entered the water and began its search. As a P-3C TACCO, Stringer would have then calculated the Release Point—the location where the aircraft would drop its free-falling torpedo, so that it landed at the Splash Point. However, that was no longer necessary, since HAAWCs could fly to their destination, as long as they had enough glide path.
After verifying that was the case, Stringer reported, “Flight TACCO, weapon is in the launch basket. We are Weapons Red and Free. Give me bomb bay open, Master Arm On.”
The aircraft shuddered as the bomb bay doors swung open, clearing the way for one of its lightweight torpedoes. Stringer selected Bay One, holding his hand over the Storage Release button.
On Stringer’s console, an amber light illuminated.
“Flight, TACCO. I have a Kill Ready light. Standing by for weapon release.”
“TACCO, Flight. You are authorized to release.”
Stringer pressed the Storage Release button for Bay One, sending the HAAWC toward its destination.