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FrostedFlake -> RE: guys: are you submissive or just beta males? (1/3/2012 6:26:07 AM)
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SUB.
http://www.navsource.org/archives/08/0860402.jpg
http://navsource.org/archives/08/pdf/0859348.pdf
I was on the passive stack holding a dozen close contacts ranging from trawlers to cruisers when Senior Chief Shankland leaned over close to my headset and said, "Stay on the submarine." I said, a bit louder, "Stay on the submarine, aye." and swung around to pick him up. Chief Shankland turned on the BQQ-2 papertrace signal analyzer and 1" tape recorder. We already had the guys class, now we were going to read his hull number and take a survey of his machinery for Nastypac.
A few minutes of quiet study later I picked up a transient. "Rackety-rackety-rackety-bam". I sang out, "We have a torpedo tube door!" I said this intending that everyone in the shack heard me, headsets or no. There next came the sound of a ten ton toilet. I sang out "We have a water slug!". I used exactly the same voice as before. As I finished speaking came a sound similar to, "Bwaaarrinnngggggg!" I sang out, Loud this time, "HIGH SPEED SCREWS!! Torpedo in the water bearing 286!" Chief Shankland took a moment to report to the Conn what everyone in the Ops Compartment had just heard me say. He then leaned over me and said, "Give me continuous reports." I answered, slightly louder than him, "Continuous reports, aye." and began to sing an old song as Battle Stations rang through the boat.
"Bearing... mark! 286!" I swung a few degrees left, then right past the weapon, then left again to center up. "Bearing,,, mark! 286!" I swung left, right, left. "Bearing... mark! 286!" Left, right, left. "Bearing... mark! 286!" Left, right, left. "Bearing... mark! 286!" Left, right, left. "Bearing... mark! 286!" Left, right, left. "Bearing... mark! 286!" Left, right, left. "Bearing... mark! 286!" Left, right, left. "Bearing... mark! 286!" Left, right, left. "Bearing... mark! 286!"
At this point I began to become concerned. Seafarers are a superstitious lot and submariners are seafarers. It is considered very bad luck to repeatedly call the same bearing on an incoming weapon. If anything bad happened before I came up with another number, I was pretty sure I was going to hear about it. So I was very motivated, and very pleased to be able to report, "Bearing...mark! 286 a half! My next report was 287. the Fire Control boys took it and ran, and as I was reporting 288, they were reporting the weapon was just over five minutes out.
Of course, that isn't all that was up. Lt Goring (AKA Tag : That Asshole Goring : Luftwaffe Commander Herman Gorings' grandson) ordered, "Left standard rudder, ahead flank, watch your bubble, Sound Battle Stations." The Sternplanesman repeated his order to put the rudder over while the Sailplanesman repeated his orders, then rang a Flank Bell and reported, "Engine room answers Ahead Flank, Sir." the Chief of the Watch sang out Battle Stations and hit the switch, sounding the alarm. In the engine room the watch spun the Main Steam valve open to the stops. This dropped the pressure in the secondary loop. That kicked the circulation pumps into high. the Reactor Control Operator pulled the rods all the way out. The temperature in the Reactor jumped, despite the high volume of coolant being pumped. Steam in the secondary loop climbed back up to 600#, even though it was wide open. This steam blessed the Main Turbines. The Turbines changed that force into rotation and applied it to the Reduction Gears. The Reduction Gears traded RPMs for Torque and applied that to the Clutch. The Clutch obligingly blessed the Shaft. The Shaft carried 15,000 horsepower outside and applied it to the Screw. The Screw did not apply all of that power to the water. Over and above the sound of the torpedo, I was in the best position to listen to all that extra power.
USS Haddo weighed 4,300 tons at neutral buoyancy. Applying maximum power at minimum speed has the same effect on a submarine as on any other powerfull vehicle. On a car, when more power is applied than can be put to pavement, the wheels spin. It is similar but different aboard ship. And different again aboard a sub, not so much physically as practically. The flukes of a screw resemble an airplane wing and work the same way. Moving through a fluid medium, water or air, each creates a differential of pressure. An airplane wing creates a low pressure zone on top, lifting the aircraft. A screw creates a low pressure zone in front, pulling the boat, ship, or submarine forward. In the case of a screw, when the pressure in front is reduced below the vapor pressure of the water, bubbles form. This is called cavitation. All of the power the screw is not able to put into the water as thrust is absorbed by these bubbles. So, the more power, the more bubbles. This was the point of ringing a Flank Bell.
I heard the rush of steam hitting the Turbines. I heard the reduction Gears wind up. Most of all I heard the screw react to that sudden power input. Sailors often imagine their ship has something within resembling life and personality. It is occasions such as this one that drives such legend. I heard Haddo suddenly draw sharp breath across edged teeth. I heard Haddo start a primal muttering rumble from deep in her guts. I heard that rumble steadily rise in volume and frequency of gathering animal fury. I heard the rush of water about the screw and I heard the shriek of that water being torn to shreds in a simultaneous howl and shriek of rage. It seemed to me at the time that Haddo was more than just a little pissed off to see some dumb bastard sic a torpedo on Her. I am sure the guys on the passive stack of that Soviet Nuke were able to hear it too. I doubt any of the Soviet ships topside missed that part of the show. There was nothing subtle about it. I though it sounded like a Yeti wrestling a Hurricane.
As Haddo swung round in a low speed high energy turn, she laid a wall of bubbles between her and that weapon, 200 feet under the surface. Twenty pounds of alka-seltzer was thrown out to add to the screen. This made an excellent active and passive sonar target. I followed the weapon around behind us, through the baffles and out the other side, calling a bearing every two seconds. Haddo centered her rudder and began to pick up speed, clawing for distance, sea room and life. As we passed about twenty knots, flow noise covered everything in white sound and I had to report loss of contact. It was break time. As Haddo began her characteristic 28 knot gallop, the Fire Control team started to count down from thirty. as they passed ten, Commander Rouse got on the 1MC and sang another classic submariner song, "Rig for angles and dangles, rig for deep submergence, rig for silent running." With that, he put Haddos' nose down twenty degrees, popped the clutch and ordered left standard rudder.
Suddenly there was a terrible crash. Startled, I looked to my right seat man, T.N.T., who smiled and said, "Wait for it", one finger extended. The door opened, shut again. Schue was on the case. With everything under control, I pulled out a smoke and Chief Shankland lit it. Something he had never before been known to do. I thanked him, took a deep drag and relaxed. A moment later Haddo pulled out at 1200 feet and something approaching 50 knots headed back the way she had come straight toward that weapon, and it's owner, and save for the rush of water over the hull, as silent as a grave. In another moment Schue was back with coffee all around and the news. Good and bad. We voted bad news first and learned half the dishes were in pieces on the galley deck and E-4 and below would be emptying the pantry later to get at the replacements. That meant me. The good news turned out to be that Wild Worm had escaped the soup, which had tried to jump him when his back was turned. We agreed the good news out weighed the bad and continued our coffee, cigarette and bull session while passing under the torpedo repeatedly attacking our bubbles 1000 feet above.
About the time we were crushing out our cigarettes, Commander Rouse pulled Haddos' nose up, bringing us to 800 feet and slowing us to about 15 knots. So I could hear again. I looked down a bearing Fire Control had provided, and there was Ivan. Six seconds later I reported his turn count. Ivan was at three knots. He had not changed course or speed, so our Fire Control Solution was still good. That is pretty amateurish. We could have launched on him right then and there. But we were not amateurs. And we were in the middle of a Soviet Task Force conducting a missile exercise. If we had fired on Ivan, we would not complete our mission, monitoring the missile test (don't ask how we knew, that is still classified). On top of this mission failure, we would probably start a war that might go nuclear. Not wanting to kill everyone and also wanting to complete the mission and get home alive sort of narrows down ones options. As little love shared between myself and Commander Rouse, I do have to admit he knows how to drive. With out changing course or clutching Haddo passed 250 yards astern of Ivan 200 yards below. at 800 feet we could use full power on the sonar and on order, T.N.T. smacked Ivan with 200,000 watts for 1010 milliseconds.
This is the submarine equivalent of putting the soup pot over Porky Pigs' head and whacking it with the spoon. Whoever was on Ivans' stacks was deaf, perhaps forever. His fuses were blown, if not his resistors. Ivan was blind, would be for several infinitely long minutes, and knew nothing good about us. Ivan knew we were at arms length, too close to shoot, that it was not accidental, and that we had just come from WAAAAAYYYYY over there, so we had speed. Torpedo arming distance is 600 yards. So even if they did launch and even if that weapon did hit us, which would be just fantastic luck, it would not explode. Ivan was out of options and totally dependent on mercy. The only way to get it was Flank Out. The alternative was get rammed. The first twenty-five feet of USS Haddo was a steel dome and a spherical sonar array. Tough. Expendable. Then comes a hull that can stand up to a theoretical 1950 feet of sea pressure, over 850 pounds per square inch. The sail is completely expendable and will knife through Ivans' pressure hull. But we only needed to knock his screw off to make him surface if he can and die if he can't.
Ivan rang a Flank Bell. I tracked him all the way back to Vladivostok, two hours and sixty miles away. Later the same day USS Haddo watched the fancy new Soviet anti-ship missile miss a stationary barge mounted with radar reflectors. Mission accomplished.
Now, was some dickweed talking smack about subs? I think that fool should click this link.
http://edge.darkgrove.com/photos/876477p05.jpg
Being a sub does not mean one is weak, or meek. And it certainly doesn't mean a man thinks less of a woman.
All generalizations are false, except this one.
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