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Five (7 December)
Nov. 5th, 2017 08:38 pmThe Navy SeaHawk helicopter raced north in the darkness. A slight glow from the waves reflected moonlight into the cockpit.
"Time to intercept?" the pilot asked.
"0630 hours," the sensor operator replied.
Damn, damn, damn. That would be after the first strike had taken off.
The three of them - pilot, sensor operator, flight engineer - knew exactly what they had for armaments. Four Hellfire anti tank missiles and one M-60 light machine gun. Against a fleet.
But there was no question where their duty lay. An attack against America was imminent and they were the only asset that could be flung in the way ... like a road flare in the path of a semi truck.
"Contact, bandit, one track, bearing 042 range 25 oh oh oh. Fixed wing. Recon."
"He won't be able to see us."
They were flying on infrared, blacked out.
"Splash him?"
"No," the pilot decided. There were at least five enemy recon aircraft up, and he might get a radio call off.
The rotary wing and fixed wing aircraft passed within a mile of each other.
"Range to target?"
"One hundred twenty miles."
"Fuel status?"
"53%. Approaching negative return."
"Understood."
A few minutes later.
"We are at negative return."
One way or another, they were going for a swim today. But they would not be the only ones.
"Home Plate, Jockey, large radar contact, detection over one hundred aircraft. Designate Raid One."
"Copy."
As with the recon aircraft, there was nothing they could do. Perhaps they could splash one or two with the door mounted machine gun, then dozens of fixed wing aircraft with greater range and height would kill them.
The stream of enemy metal flew south. They proceeded north.
"Jockey, Home Plate, we have good target locks. Repeat, we have good locks."
The data streamed from the SeaHawk back to her mother ship.
"Designate all surface tracks Robber Alpha. Robber One, enemy carrier group. Robber Two, enemy carrier group. ..."
The litany went on. Then changed tone.
"Kill Robber One One with birds. Kill Robber Two One with birds. Kill Robber Three One with birds..."
The data tracks lit with supersonic inbounds. Missiles.
Like peeking over a fence, the SeaHawk could peek over the horizon to see what was on the other side. And what a modern US Navy warship could see, she could kill.
"Thirty miles."
As the sun started to come up over the North Pacific Ocean, they could see the condensation from the missile exhaust as the lines of death plunged towards their targets.
But there would be no counterfire, no terminal defense with radar directed autocannon. Surprise would be total.
Turn about is fair play.
Each of the men could imagine the warheads plunging into the decks full of planes, fuel, munitions and sailors.
Enemy sailors, yes, but the crew was not unmoved by the thought of so many fellow seafarers turned to flaming torches by the horrors of war.
Then they saw it.
Explosions. Thick columns of smoke. Puffs of black smoke from vain anti aircraft fire, hopelessly outclassed. Still enough to put paid to a helicopter, if they saw it and recognized it as a threat.
But at such long ranges, mere missile strikes could not guarantee kills against such large ships.
Thus the SeaHawk. And thus their attack profile, hooking around the back of the enemy fleet.
Any ship could be crippled by a rudder hit.
An aircraft carrier that couldn't maneuver could neither launch nor land aircraft.
The SeaHawk could put a HellFire missile with precision accuracy into the rudder of each of four enemy carriers.
The enemy air strike would hit its target, but be damned if it would get a chance to rearm.
As for the fifth carrier ... the kamikaze tactic would not be invented until 1943.
Never mind, the Japanese were learning about a lot of things early today.
Perhaps they wouldn't be going for a swim after all.
"Time to intercept?" the pilot asked.
"0630 hours," the sensor operator replied.
Damn, damn, damn. That would be after the first strike had taken off.
The three of them - pilot, sensor operator, flight engineer - knew exactly what they had for armaments. Four Hellfire anti tank missiles and one M-60 light machine gun. Against a fleet.
But there was no question where their duty lay. An attack against America was imminent and they were the only asset that could be flung in the way ... like a road flare in the path of a semi truck.
"Contact, bandit, one track, bearing 042 range 25 oh oh oh. Fixed wing. Recon."
"He won't be able to see us."
They were flying on infrared, blacked out.
"Splash him?"
"No," the pilot decided. There were at least five enemy recon aircraft up, and he might get a radio call off.
The rotary wing and fixed wing aircraft passed within a mile of each other.
"Range to target?"
"One hundred twenty miles."
"Fuel status?"
"53%. Approaching negative return."
"Understood."
A few minutes later.
"We are at negative return."
One way or another, they were going for a swim today. But they would not be the only ones.
"Home Plate, Jockey, large radar contact, detection over one hundred aircraft. Designate Raid One."
"Copy."
As with the recon aircraft, there was nothing they could do. Perhaps they could splash one or two with the door mounted machine gun, then dozens of fixed wing aircraft with greater range and height would kill them.
The stream of enemy metal flew south. They proceeded north.
"Jockey, Home Plate, we have good target locks. Repeat, we have good locks."
The data streamed from the SeaHawk back to her mother ship.
"Designate all surface tracks Robber Alpha. Robber One, enemy carrier group. Robber Two, enemy carrier group. ..."
The litany went on. Then changed tone.
"Kill Robber One One with birds. Kill Robber Two One with birds. Kill Robber Three One with birds..."
The data tracks lit with supersonic inbounds. Missiles.
Like peeking over a fence, the SeaHawk could peek over the horizon to see what was on the other side. And what a modern US Navy warship could see, she could kill.
"Thirty miles."
As the sun started to come up over the North Pacific Ocean, they could see the condensation from the missile exhaust as the lines of death plunged towards their targets.
But there would be no counterfire, no terminal defense with radar directed autocannon. Surprise would be total.
Turn about is fair play.
Each of the men could imagine the warheads plunging into the decks full of planes, fuel, munitions and sailors.
Enemy sailors, yes, but the crew was not unmoved by the thought of so many fellow seafarers turned to flaming torches by the horrors of war.
Then they saw it.
Explosions. Thick columns of smoke. Puffs of black smoke from vain anti aircraft fire, hopelessly outclassed. Still enough to put paid to a helicopter, if they saw it and recognized it as a threat.
But at such long ranges, mere missile strikes could not guarantee kills against such large ships.
Thus the SeaHawk. And thus their attack profile, hooking around the back of the enemy fleet.
Any ship could be crippled by a rudder hit.
An aircraft carrier that couldn't maneuver could neither launch nor land aircraft.
The SeaHawk could put a HellFire missile with precision accuracy into the rudder of each of four enemy carriers.
The enemy air strike would hit its target, but be damned if it would get a chance to rearm.
As for the fifth carrier ... the kamikaze tactic would not be invented until 1943.
Never mind, the Japanese were learning about a lot of things early today.
Perhaps they wouldn't be going for a swim after all.
