The Last War? : Chapter 390

[Bernard Woolley]

With thanks to Matt W.

*

D+33

*

0612 hours. RAF Aldergrove, Northern Ireland.
Sharing its runways with Belfast International Airport, RAF Aldergrove had until recently been a very busy station. The majority of the RAF and Army Air Corps helicopters supporting the Security Forces in the Province had been based at Aldergrove. After the Good Friday Agreement there had been a reduction of activity, but in peacetime the station was still home to two RAF helicopter squadrons, an RAF Regiment squadron, a regiment of the AAC, and an independent flight.[1]

On mobilisation most of the helicopters had been deployed abroad, leaving two Merlins modified for Search and Rescue, three Pumas, a few Gazelles and the three Islander AL.1 of 1 Flight. Even when the Griffon and Squirrel helicopters of the Northern Ireland Regional Air Squadron were added to the totals, it was an inadequate number to support the needs of the army and police. [2] Now the needs of war meant that the remaining Merlins and Pumas were heading to West Germany. A pair of RAF Globemasters, plus one HeavyLift MD-17 were due to arrive shortly to pick up the helicopters and their supporting equipment.
A rump of 502 (Ulster) Squadron had remained behind to operate the remaining Merlins and Pumas. However, it now looked like they would have nothing to fly. So, it was something of a surprise when the Globemasters arrived that the first order of business was to unload six Wessex H.C.2. All six were painted in two-tone green camouflage; through two had red noses and bands on their tails, signifying that they had been used for training purposes.

*

When it had been formed, 502 Squadron had inherited fifteen Wessex from 72 Squadron. The latter having recently re-equipped with a similar number of Puma H.C.1. In 2003 the auxiliary squadron had inherited those Pumas when the regulars received the Merlin H.C.3.
Most of the surviving Wessex that had belonged to No.60 Squadron, No.502 Squadron and No.2 Flying Training School when the helicopter had been retired had been sold (notably to the Uruguayan navy and air force), or had been donated to museums. Others had ended up on fire dumps and bombing ranges, or simply scrapped. However, some had ended up in storage, for possible sale. Now some of the Wessex in that latter group were being brought out of mothballs for use in Home Defence duties.

As a recent user of the Wessex, it made sense to issue some of them to 502 Squadron. The rump of personnel left at Aldergrove included many who had flown and maintained the helicopter. The Globemasters had also brought some additional personnel with Wessex experience, some of them recalled from retirement.

*

It took two hours to get the Wessexes unloaded and the Pumas and Merlins loaded into the Globemasters. It took another hour to get two of the Wessex ready for flight.

Squadron Leader Mark Wallace climbed up into the right-hand seat, strapped himself in and started to go through pre-flight checks. Wallace had been recalled to service during the Transition to War, having left the air force in early 2003. His last flying job had been as an instructor with No.2 FTS, and while out of the air force had been the pilot of a privately owned Wessex, which made him an obvious choice to help the pilots at Aldergrove back into the way of flying the helicopter.

“Feels funny to be sitting in the cockpit of a Wessex again.” The pilot to Wallace's left commented. “Odd coincidence that it happens to be one of our old choppers.”

Wing Commander Brian Marston, the C.O of 502 (Ulster) Squadron, had resigned himself to sitting out the war on administrative duty. Most of his squadron had gone to Germany, serving under the command of No.60 Squadron. He had flown the Wessex before it had been replaced and only really needed a refresher.

“Yeah, I get that.” Wallace replied. “I flew this chopper when she was with 2 FTS. She's a reliable old cow. Will always get you home.”

Pre-flight checks finished, Wallace started up the two Gnome engines and waited for the main and tail rotors to spin up to speed. Take off permission obtained, he got airborne.

“First stop is Bessbrook. You'll need to navigate for me, Boss, it's been a while since I've flown over here.”

Marston already had a route marked on a map stowed in a knee pocket. However, having spent many years flying over his native Ulster, he could direct Wallace there without needing to refer to it.

*

The heliport at the British Army base at Bessbrook Mill had once been reputed to be the busiest in Europe. Now the army's presence was being wound down towards an eventual withdrawal. The base was currently occupied by a company of 1 The Queen’s Own Highlanders and two platoons from 6 Royal Irish Regiment. While refuelling at Bessbrook, Wallace was handed a message ordering him to take sixteen Highlanders to Belcoo to reinforce the Security Forces there.

“Is it a National or NATO tasking?” Wallace asked.
“What does it matter?” The army officer who had passed on the message asked.
“If it's the latter we can cut across County Monaghan. If the former we'll have to take the long way around.”
“It's an Anglo-Irish job, so you can cut across the border.” The captain replied. “A Griffon is going with you with another detachment of Jocks. Don't know if they'll need you to stay in Belcoo; the army commander there will brief you.”
“Right, better get on with it then.” Wallace declared.”

0615 hours. HMS Astute, the Barents Sea.
Fully re-armed and replenished with food, Astute had returned to station in the Barents Sea. One of her ship's company had not joined her, Lieutenant-Commander Christopher Chant, the Executive Officer having been promoted and posted to take command of HMS Agamemnon, currently finishing fitting out at Barrow-in-Furness. A new Executive Officer, Lieutenant-Commander Miles Warburton, the former captain of HMS Una had joined to take Chant's place.
When taking on new weapons, the six Tomahawk cruise missiles and two Spearfish torpedoes had been unloaded. They had been replaced by a similar number of what looked very like standard Heavyweight torpedoes.

Astute was now crawling at a few knots around twenty kilometres from the edge of a Soviet minefield. Over the last few weeks the minefield had been painstakingly surveyed by a number of NATO platforms, including submarine launched UUV. Now it was time to take advantage of all that dangerous work.

*

Commander Len Simpson took his place on the captain's chair in the control room. He surveyed the men around him, confident in their abilities.

“Sonar, are there any contacts close to us?” He asked.
“There are some Soviet surface vessels a way off, Sir.” The Sonar Officer, Lieutenant Grant Morrison reported. “Nothing that would be within detection range of us. Not picking up any aerial contacts.”
“Thank you, Sonar.” Simpson replied. “My intention is to load two of our tubes with Spearfish, in case there is something hostile out there and the remaining tubes with some of our new weapons.” He started his action brief with. “We'll swim them in slowly into position two at a time. After that we'll transit to our next location and do it all again.
“Questions?”
“What happens if we do detect something hostile?” The WEO, Lieutenant Eric Lumley wondered.
“We cut the wires to the weapons and get ready to engage with Spearfish.” Simpson told him.

There were no further questions, so it was time to proceed.

“Flood tubes one through four and stand-by to fire.”
“Tubes flooded.”
“Open outer doors to one and three and shoot.”

The two Improved Mobile Mines, some of the first available to the fleet, were swum out of the torpedo tubes. Based on the now withdrawn Tigerfish Mod 2 Heavyweight torpedo, the mines slowly pulled away from the submarine. Their target was a gap that had been identified in the Soviet minefield, which was used by enemy submarines and surface ships. Once in place, the controlling wires were cut and the IMMs allowed to sink to the bottom. Two more mines were launched before Astute departed to lay four more IMM in another gap.

The next Soviet submarine, or surface ship to use the minefield gaps were going to be in for quite the shock. The gaps would need a full mine clearance operation, as the Soviets could not be sure quite how many mines had been laid.

0620 hours GMT. Abbasid Palace, Baghdad, Iraq.
General Tariq al-Hosseni, the Iraqi Defense Minister, got out of his BMW staff car, followed by his aide. While the man busied himself with retrieving briefing boards and easels, General Hosseni looked around. He watched as another car pulled up, and out came General Mahdi, the head of the DMI. The DMI Director nodded, then came over to the Minister and saluted.

“Good morning, Minister,” Mahdi said.
“Good morning, Mahdi,” Hosseni replied, returning the salute. “And how are you this fine morning?”

That was open to debate, for the morning was, as usual, a hazy one. And that was without the smoke from the night's strikes by American stealth fighters.

“Awakened a little earlier than usual, no thanks to that air strike a couple of hours ago.” He was referring to a predawn strike on the southern outskirts of Baghdad by both the USAF and RAAF. Before Hosseni could ask, Mahdi added, “They hit the garrison for the Hammurabi Division.”

Hosseni nodded.

“If they're going after ground forces installations, that means they're trying to disrupt our resupply and reconstitution efforts. Not quite shaping the battlefield, but...”
“It does slow down those efforts somewhat,” Mahdi nodded, as Saddam's Presidential Secretary came.

The man had been appointed a Brigadier General by Saddam, and those kinds of “Political” appointments annoyed the two Generals-along with many other professional officers-to no end. But there wasn't much that could be done about such things. Along with knowing that it was healthy to keep one's thoughts about such appointments to oneself.

“Please follow me, gentlemen. The President is expecting you,” the man said.

The two generals, along with their aides, followed the man into the palace. After a security check, he led them into a conference room. There, at the head of the table, was Saddam, as usual in the uniform of a Field Marshal. Sitting next to him was Qusay, in his usual three-piece suit, while the other RCC members were in military uniform, apart from Nadji Sahir, the Foreign Minister. The President's other military aides were also there: Army, Air Force, Air Defense, Navy, and RGFC. Both generals saluted while their aides set up their briefing boards.

“Mr. President,” Hosseni said.
“Minister, Director,” Saddam replied. “What do you have for us this morning?”

And both generals recognized the tone of the Iraqi Dictator's voice. It had better be some good news, or else.

“Mr. President,” Hosseni said, beginning the briefing. “As was yesterday, the so-called Coalition forces have not moved. They are still digging out from the sandstorm. Both our own reconnaissance flights, and a Soviet one, managed to get photographs confirming that. It will be at least a day before they're ready to move forward. And their supply-hungry forces will want to be resupplied before they do that in any event.”
“So,” Saddam said. “At least two days before they are moving forward?”
“Yes, Mr. President.
“That is our estimate, Mr. President,” Mahdi added. “However, they could decide to move forward anyway, not waiting for resupply.”

After digesting that, Saddam then asked.

“And where are they going?”
“I can show on the map, Mr. President,” Hosseni said, using a pointer. “Here, from the Rumallah Oil Field southeast through Zubayr and down to Umm Qasr is the so-called 'Multinational Division', made up of Americans, British, Australians, New Zealanders, and..” he spat, “Kuwaitis. We assess them as moving up to screen Basra and try to take the Rumallah Causeway.” He paused for a moment, then continued. “To the west, is the American 40th Infantry Division, positioned along Highway 8 and Freeway 1. They do have elements at Jaliabah Air Base, and when they move? They're likely to move northwest, going for Talil Air Base and a bridgehead across the Euphrates River at Freeway 1.”
“Will they go in and try to take Nasiriyah?” Izzat Ibrahim al-Duri, the RCC Vice-Chairman, asked.
“Mahdi?” Hosseni gestured to the DMI Chief.
“Mr. Vice-Chairman,” Mahdi began. “Right now, we just don't know. They could try a coup de main, hoping to get into the city before the defenders can react in force, but that is doubtful. We have two infantry divisions, one Regular and one Reserve, to defend the city, along with a Soviet Airborne Regiment, and that should be enough.”
“I see.”

Hosseni then picked up the brief.

“Moving on, the American 4th Armored Division will likely move along Highway 8, with their objective being Samawah, though if they can find a bridgehead elsewhere along the Euphrates? They'll try for it. One likely location is Al Khidir.” Hosseni added, pointing to a town just off of Highway 8, halfway between Samawah and Nasiriyah. “The Americans could've had a bridgehead here in 1991, but didn't. Hamdani is moving the RGFC's 53rd Armored Brigade, and the Soviets are putting the balance of their VDV division there. Along with their Naval Infantry Brigade from Syria.”

Saddam took it in for a moment, then nodded.

“And our forces?”
“Mr. President,” Hosseni said. “At Basra, we have III Corps, with four Reserve Infantry Divisions, along with the 6th Armored and 1st Mechanized Divisions. General Hamdani and the Corps Commander are confident they can hold the city against any attack, whether from the Coalition, or the Iranians.”
“And Faw?”

Hosseni pointed at the map.

“Mr. President, the Iranians appear to have dug in. They have not gone beyond artillery range of the border, and are also still within range of the guns of the battleship New Jersey.”
“They want us to come to them, in other words, Mr. President,” Mahdi added.

Saddam nodded.

“Go on, General.”
“Yes, Mr. President,” Hosseni nodded. “Further west, at the Rumallah Causeway, we have I Guards Corps, with the 4th Motorized and 6th Armored Divisions, while the Hammurabi Division has been withdrawn north to reconstitute. Then in the Nasiriya area is V Corps with the 12th Armored and 11th Infantry Divisions with a Reserve Infantry Division as I have previously mentioned. Also there is the remnants of the 51st Mechanized Division, while the 10th “Saladin” Armored is Corps Reserve. Finally, near Samawa, is II Guards Corps, with the 2nd “Medina” Armored and the 9th “Al Nida” Armored Divisions along with a Reserve Infantry Division. Then there's two RGFC divisions that we've reactivated, the 10th “Al Mustafa” Infantry and the 11th “Al Quds” Infantry along with two Reserve Army mechanized divisions, the 53rd and 60th Mechanized. Those last four divisions, sir, are fully equipped, but not yet combat-ready.”
“Very well, General,” Saddam said. “Are you making plans to counterattack?”

Hosseni and Mahdi exchanged glances, then both nodded.

“We are, Mr. President. There are several possible counterattack locations, and once our forces are refitted and ready to resume the offensive, we can be more...precise in those plans,” said Hosseni. “We can have such options ready to present in five days.”

Saddam turned again to Qusay, who nodded agreement.

“It would be unwise, Mr. President, to decide on an attack before we even know where, and with what forces we can use.”
“I see..” Saddam replied after digesting what his son had told him. “Three more questions before we adjourn. First, what of those Iranian dogs?”

Mahdi pointed at the map.

“The border has been quiet, Mr. President. No incidents for several days, and not even an airspace incursion.”
“If and when the Iranians do attack, they will come in force,” Hosseni added.
“They won't be that stupid,” Al-Duri said, nodding at Saddam.
“An attack can't be ruled out,” Mahdi reminded everyone. “One doesn't move heavy forces-that is, armored and mechanized, along with air-assault and airborne forces, and not plan to use them.”
“Just as we would if things were reversed,” Saddam said, firmness in his voice. He turned to the Foreign Minister. “Have our Ambassador in Moscow request a meeting with the Soviet Foreign Minister. I am making a formal request that if Iran does attack us, that Soviet forces move into Northern Iran.”

Foreign Minister Sahir nodded.

“It will be done, Mr. President.”
“And arrange a telephone call with General Secretary Renko. I would like to discuss the issue further with him.”

Sahir nodded, taking notes on a pad.

“Now,” Saddam continued. “Is there anything new on those four American whores who have embarrassed the Air Force?” He was referring to the two all-female F-14 ace teams on the carrier Kitty Hawk who had had a lot of attention in the media and on the Internet.

Both generals looked at each other. Again, the President's obsession with minor details was rising to the surface. Those kinds of obsessions had cost Hitler greatly in 1939-45, and also had cost Saddam in both the Iran War and in 1991. It was Mahdi who broke the ice.

“No, Mr. President. Though we have shot down and captured an F-14 crew, as you know, the two crew members have denied knowing the four. Even under rigorous and intensive interrogation.”
“Are your interrogators certain they are telling the truth?” Qusay asked. His men in the SSO had specialists who were very capable of getting prisoners to do what was asked of them.
“They are, Minister.”
“Still, I want these four brought down and captured alive, if at all possible,” Saddam finished. He turned to Mohammed Saeed al-Sahaf, the Information Minister. “Announce in the Newspapers that the reward for the live capture of these whores is now $250,000. Each.”

Al-Sahaf nodded gleefully.

“Certainly, Mr. President.”
“One last thing: What is being done to improve Baghdad's air defenses? This morning, we all received an early-morning surprise from the Americans and their Australian lackeys.” He glared at both Hosseni and the aide from the ADC. “Well?”

The Brigadier General from the ADC silently gulped. Then he stepped forward.

“Mr. President, we're doing the best we can. Some of our damaged radars, including early-warning, SAM and AA fire control, can be repaired and reactivated, but that will take some time. We're also adding some more guns, mostly heavy machine guns along with 23-mm and 37-mm to the city defenses, and setting more teams with shoulder-fired SAMs on some of Baghdad's larger buildings. We are also repairing damaged gun and missile systems to the best of our ability. Apart from that, there isn't much else that we can do right now.”

Saddam digested that, then asked.

“Is there anything else?” The tone in his voice was menacing.

General Hosseni nodded.

“I have discussed this with General Kurchatov,” the Defense Minister said. “He pointed out that many of the same systems we use are still in Soviet service, and their needs with the war in Europe against NATO are coming first. Furthermore, he pointed out that any resupply they do send us is limited to what can come by air.”

Qusay whispered to his father, who nodded. Sometimes the truth did hurt.

Saddam then turned to the Foreign Minister.

“Have our Ambassador raise this issue in Moscow. I will discuss this with General Secretary Renko in our phone call.”
“Yes, Mr. President,” Sahir replied.
“Mahdi? Have our Military Attache raise this issue in his discussions with the Soviet Defense Ministry.”

The DMI Director nodded.

“Of course, Mr. President.”

Then Saddam stood up.

“Our Air Defense Command has been performing valiantly, but is need of new and inspired leadership. I realize the current commander has been in the post only a month, but his deputy...” Saddam was conveniently forgetting that the deputy had the same amount of time in the position. He turned to Qusay. “Have the deputy arrested. See to his confession and punishment. The same goes for his man here.” The Iraqi dictator glared at the ADC aide.

Qusay nodded and gestured to the security men in the room. The hapless aide was quickly dragged out of the room. A minute later, those inside heard a shot through an open window.

“Gentlemen, we're adjourned for now. We will reconvene here at 8 P.M. Thank you, everyone.”

The RCC members stood as Saddam left with Qusay, along with their details and the Presidential Secretary. The two generals made the necessary small talk with the RCC members before gathering their materials and heading for their cars. When both got to their cars they noticed a body with a pool of blood around the head.

“That hasn't happened in a few days,” Mahdi noted.

Recalling when the Commander of the Baghdad Air Defense Sector had been similarly “relieved” after Saddam had watched an American air strike several days earlier when his dinner had been interrupted.

“Yes,” Hosseni said. “Still, we need to try and keep these types of events to a minimum. We must also try and control and minimize the President's mistakes, and figure out a way back to Kuwait.”
“Easier said than done,” Mahdi pointed out.
“True, Madhi,” the Defense Minister said. “But we have no choice.”

0645 hours GMT. CFS Alert, Nunavut, Canada.
Both sides at the SIGINT facility were beginning to run low on ammunition. With only a few isolated shots now ringing out. The Spetsnaz commander was now in something of a quandary. He had failed to take the facility, or cause it serious damage and his means of escape had been destroyed. Dispersing his men into the countryside was also impossible. There were precious little resources and the nearest settlement was hundreds of kilometres away. Even if he did try to escape overland, the ever present Canadian fighters would be able to pick any one off. Anyone who survived would be at the mercy of the harsh terrain and climate. The captain did not wish to be a meal for a polar bear! There were really only two options open to him.

*

The lieutenant who commanded the Security Platoon defending CFS Alert was also somewhat concerned. His soldiers were down to an average of one and a half magazines per rifle, or LAR, while his two Light Machine Guns had a single belt of 100 rounds each. If the Soviets made another concerted assault it was likely that his men would run out of ammunition. At least the relay of Hornets seemed to be keeping the enemy's heads down.
Where was the Quick Reaction Force? Although, with Alert Airport occupied by the enemy, the only way the QRF could arrive was by parachute, or maybe by long-range rotorcraft. Though, even an Osprey would need to air-to-air refuel to reach Alert. The lieutenant had a horrible feeling that help was not going to reach him and his troops in time.

*

Elsewhere, events had moved on. The US liaison officer to Joint Task Force (North) had advised Brigadier-General Pascal that Thule Air Base would be available for any operation to support CFS Alert. The American base was around 682 kilometres from Alert; closer than the 1,085 kilometres from Resolute Bay Airport. It was also able to offer much more support to the small gravel airstrip. The senior RCAF officer at JTF(N) had also discovered that when fitted with four drop-tanks (two 230-gallon and two 100-gallon) the combat radius of a Hunter Mk.58 was actually 750 kilometres plus. They would only have their guns, but that would still be superior to the armament of the Hornets. Therefore, four Hunters had been deployed to Thule, along with the Quick Reaction Force, from where they could reach Alert. An additional CC-130 had brought in spare 30mm round for the Hunter's ADEN cannon.

One of the three RCAF Hercules forward deployed to Thule took off bound for CFS Alert. Followed by a pair of Hunters.

0805 hours. Barrow-in-Furness, Cumbria, England.
The car carrying the Flag Officer Submarines (FOSM), Rear Admiral Daniel 'Dan' Conley, swept into the BAES Yard that dominated the town. Security had been briefed to expect the admiral and delayed passing checkpoints had been kept to a minimum.
'Triple' hatted as FOSM, NATO Commander Submarine Force Eastern Atlantic (COMSUBEASTLANT) and Commander Submarines, Western Approaches (COMSUBWA), Conley was making a visit to Barrow primarily to check in on HMS Agamemnon. [3] However, he also wanted to take some time to see how Achilles was progressing. The Upholder class submarine, HMS Una was also being repaired at the yard.

*

When appointed FOSM in early 2004, Conley had taken a look at his assets. He had four ballistic missile submarines, eighteen SSN (including one in ‘active reserve’/extended readiness), plus eight SSK. There were also two old SSN under his command retained for alongside training. One of the first things he had decided to do was to order that alongside training using HMS Churchill and HMS Warspite cease. The training value of the two Valiant class boats was minimum and they were simply a drain of resources. Shore based simulators for the Astute class covered most of the training requirements for those boats, while Swiftsure was available to cover training for the S and T classes. The sailors who had crewed the two old boats were reassigned to Swiftsure as part of efforts to bring her back into service. Even if she would be primarily a training boat in peacetime. Churchill and Warspite were still officially listed as being in reserve, but were now in reality hulks and would be decommissioned shortly.

*

“Good morning, Sir.” Commander Christopher Chant said. “I think you know the managing director of BAE Barrow, Richard Timothy.
“Good morning, Chant; congratulations of the promotion.” Conley replied on the exchange of salutes. “Mr Timothy, nice to see you again.”
“Likewise, Admiral.”
“Lead on, Commander, I'm keen to see how Agamemnon is getting on.”

The three men walked the short distance to the berth where the submarine was finishing fitting out. Conley's Flag Lieutenant, a captain of Marines and his driver, a marine lance-corporal, followed at a discrete distance. Conley had taken note that during the Transition to War, RN flag officers based ashore seemed to have gained new Flag Lieutenants who were all marine officers. He had decided not to remark on the fact that the butt of a handgun was just visible under the Lovat Green tunic of his new Flag Lieutenant.

“I can't say we were initially pleased about the loading of live torpedoes within the yard, Admiral.” Timothy remarked as they walked. “But, we understand why.”
“We can't be sending out a submarine unarmed, Mr Timothy. As soon as Agamemnon is in the Irish Sea she is in a war zone. We've already sunk a couple of Soviet boats not too far away from Barrow, and any of our boats need to defend themselves.”

On passing the sailors from Agamemnon's company posted as sentries, the three men went below. Conley could see that while the boat was substantially complete, there were still a number of internal systems to be fitted. Civilian workers and sailors were hard a work and the trio soon repaired to the Wardroom to get out of their way.

“How long until you can sail, Commander?” Conley asked, after putting down the cup of tea he had been handed.
“The estimate I've been given is four weeks, but I believe we can do it in three.” Chant replied. “If we treat the transit to Faslane as our trials cruise, I think we can be operational soon after we arrive.”
“Good stuff, Chant. I'm sure you won't let me down,” The admiral replied. “Mr Timothy, I am sure we can rely on your people?”

The managing director nodded.

“I have had people transferred from Achilles to help getAgamemnon ready. That will slow down the former's build time, but she is years away from completion yet.”
“I would like to take a look at Achilles if I may?”
“Of course. There's not a lot to see, though. She's still in lots of bits!” Timothy said with a smile. “I take it you'd like to check up on Una too.

Conley nodded. Una had been caught by Soviet ASW forces as she exited a Norwegian fjord after dropping off Special Forces. She had taken damage from the barrage of torpedoes, depth charges and ASW rockets fired at her and had been lucky to make it to the Norwegian naval base at Haakonsvern. She had undergone temporary repairs there, before sailing for Barrow-in-Furness. Some of her crew were being treated for shock, though none had received significant physical injuries.

“I would, yes.” The admiral confirmed. “Well, let's get on. I shall take my leave of you, Commander Chant. You don't need me getting under your feet any longer. I'm sure that Mr Timothy can look after me for the rest of the visit.
“I think we should take a look at Una first in case I get called away.”

*

Una showed significant damage from her encounter with the Soviet Navy and bare metal showed where temporary repairs had been made in Norway. Sparks flew as workers used welding equipment.

“We found quite a bit of shock damage internally, Admiral.” Timothy informed Conley. “We're going to need to replace the mounts for one of the diesel engines for example and the shaft has a leak. She's probably going to need a new one; it looks like its bent out of true.”
“Well not much more we can...”
“Excuse me, Sir.” Conley's Flag Lieutenant interrupted. “We've just had a phone call from Northwood; you're needed back there.”
“Thank you, Captain. I'll leave you to arrange transport.” He replied. “Sorry to run, Mr Timothy, but duty calls. Thank you for everything.”

0831 hours GMT. 551 kilometres of North Island, New Zealand.
The P-3K Orion of No.5 Squadron, RNZAF circled the nondescript container ship for a second time. The ship looked a little dirty and careworn, evidently an elderly 'tramp'. One upon a time, such a ship would have been overlooked. But that was before Canberra.
What was concerning the crew of the Orion was that the ship, MV Pacific Wanderer, had failed to respond to radio calls asking her to confirm her identity and destination. A check with the joint RNZN-RNZAF Operations Centre at HMNZS Philomel had confirmed that such as ship existed, registered in Liberia. Beyond that, no much was known about her. [4]
A low level pass, dropping flares and trying to signal the ship by Morse had also failed. On her present course Pacific Wanderer would soon cross the boundary of the Maritime Identification Zone that the New Zealand Government had established. A Notice to Mariners warned that all merchant and other civilian vessels passing through the zone must identify themselves to the satisfaction of the authorities and prepare to be boarded before entering it. If they failed to comply they could be sunk without further warning.

*

“What ships do we have closest to the target?” Maritime Component Commander, Commodore William Dyke, RNZN asked. Dyke was also 'double-hatted' as Commander Joint Operations Centre.
“Canterbury has just finished re-storing at Lyttleton, Sir and could be underway within the hour. Rotoiti is already at sea and could intercept within two hours. Nearest ships to the target are minesweepers in the Cook Strait, but we can't divert them. Still too many mines to clear.” Commander Philip Grant replied.
“She could be in firing range by then if she's armed with missiles.” Dyke observed.

He turned to the senior air force officer.

“Is Kilo One-Three armed with Harpoons?”
“Yes, Sir.” The Wing Commander replied. “She has a pair of missiles.”
“Good.” Dyke said. “As soon as she crosses the five hundred boundary your aircraft is authorised to fire on her. How soon until you can get another Orion in the air?”
“Thirty minutes, Sir. I can have some Aermacchis, Hawks and our single Hornet in the air sooner. Fifteen to twenty minutes, all armed with bombs.”
“Do it. Unless the target responds to attempts to contact her, she is to be sunk as soon as she crosses the boundary” Dyke ordered.

*

All further attempts to contact Pacific Wanderer had failed. The pilot of the P-3K had considered an ultra low-level pass over the ship, but remembered that other Soviet raiders had been armed with AAA and MANPADS. He had no desire to risk being shot down.

“Okay, Brian, spin up the Harpoons.” He ordered the aircraft's TACCO.

As the Orion circled back to get into firing position, Pacific Wanderer continued on, passing over the outer boundary of the MIZ. The P-3K continued to try and contact her, even as it lined up to fire. The ship continued to fail to respond.

*

HMNZS Canterbury had just finished replenishment, her fuel bunkers being full. Commander Arden had been somewhat surprised when a signal had arrived while the frigate was refuelling, ordering her to land all the F88 rifles and 5.56mm ammunition that the ship was carrying.

“What are the Brass Hats expecting us to use when conducting boardings, X?” She had wondered on reading the signal. “Harsh words? Dirty looks?”
“We still have some Brownings, Ma'am.” Lt. Commander John Owens commiserated. “Perhaps they'll send us some cutlasses?”

Arden smiled. Owens' joke reflected that the relationship between her and the Executive Officer had improved significantly since she had taken command.

Thankfully, Canterbury's company did not have to depend on pistols and cutlasses. Instead, as the F88s and associated ammunition was driven away, crates full of L1A1 rifles and Sterling SMGs were delivered. Arden had given the task of qualifying the crew on the 'new' weapons to the Master-At-Arms, CPO Donald Henderson. Some of the older members of the crew were quite pleased to be given weapons they remembered from their youth, but many were distinctly unimpressed with swapping F88s for Sterlings.

While some members of the crew were training with small-arms on the flight-deck a FLASH message came in from the Ops Centre, ordering Canterbury to sail immediately and intercept Pacific Wanderer. Only one of the frigate's two boilers was lit, the other being down for maintenance. However, Arden took the decision to still sail immediately rather than wait, the the Marine Engineering Officer promising that he would have the second boiler up and running ASAP.

*

Pacific Wanderer was already burning from the two Harpoon hits when the rather eclectic formation of RNZAF jets arrived overhead. A single F/A-18B Hornet led a gaggle of Aermacchi MB.339CB and Hawk MK.128. All aircraft were armed with unguided bombs and rockets, there not being any PGM spare for a mission like this.
The Hornet attacked first, performing a shallow dive attack, releasing its bomb load before climbing away. The attack was accurate, with most of the bombs either hitting the ship, or being near misses. The trainers armed with bombs followed next, with the rocket armed aircraft coming in last. Before heading back to base, the aircraft strafed the ship with their cannons for good measure.

The P-3K that had initially identified Ocean Wanderer circled high above, reporting back to the Operations Centre. Below her, the container ship was well alight and visibly sinking.

“Ops Centre, Kilo One-Three. We can see survivors abandoning ship. Request that SAR be alerted. Over.”

Back at RNZAF Auckland, a second Orion, configured for the Search And Rescue role was scrambled. Additionally, two NH90 helicopters from No.41 Squadron were launched from RNZAF Ohakea. By the time they arrived on scene the ship was gone, only a few lifeboats and an oil slick marking her demise.

***

[1] These were:

RAF
- No.72 Squadron - Merlin H.C.3/3A (including SAR flight)
- No.502 (Ulster) Squadron. - Puma H.C.1
- No.3 Squadron, RAF Regiment

AAC
- 5 Regiment Army Air Corps
-- 665 Squadron: Gazelle AH.1, Lynx AH.7
- 1 Flight, AAC: Islander, AL.1

[2] Details of Regional Air Squadrons can be found here.

[3] COMSUBEASTLANT was a subordinate of SACLANT, while COMSUBWA was a subordinate of JACWA.

[4] The Joint Ops Centre was established after the raid on the Chatham Islands.

[Bernard Woolley]

Accompanying Pictures

[Nik_SpeakerToCats]

If 'harmless', that container ship's bridge-watch survivors will have some explaining to do...

[Bernard Woolley]

We'll see...

[Lordroel]

Another good update as always.

[Bernard Woolley]

Thank you.

[Johnnie Lyle]

If 'harmless', that container ship's bridge-watch survivors will have some explaining to do...

Nik, I think a seance would be required for them to explain.

[jemhouston]

If 'harmless', that container ship's bridge-watch survivors will have some explaining to do...

If they ignored the attempts to contact them, would that constitute Barratry? Could that lead to felony homicide charges against the surviving officers?


I suspect Saddam will not be a happy camper after he talks to General Secretary Renko assuming the phone calls actually happens?