Episode 15

US Naval Base Guam, USS Kidd (DDG 100)

Commander Harris had never seen so many destroyers in one place at a time.  While Guam wasn’t a massive port, it wasn’t small either.  Currently, there were so many destroyers in port that they were rafted two deep across the entire quay.  Usually, the base held three or four at a time for various reasons.  Today there were over twenty.  That plus four cruisers meant that a good chunk of the Pacific fleet was tied up right there.

As amazing as this was, it wasn’t the most amazing thing he could see.  The most amazing sight of all was the line of replenishment trucks on the quay.  Stacked was a better word.  They were stacked along the quay.  Cranes were busy unloading them.  Each one held the same thing.  Missiles.  Hundreds of missiles.  All of them being loaded into the VLS mounts on the ships tied up alongside.  Harris tried to count up how much all that ordinance cost.  He couldn’t.   A SM-3 cost about $10M.  A SM-6 about $4M.  If there were 100 SM-3s sitting out there, that would be a billion dollars in weapons.  Just sitting on the pier.  Well, not for long.  At the frantic pace they were working it wouldn’t take more than a day to get them all loaded up.

The Kidd was also due for a reload.  He hoped some of those boxes were earmarked for DDG-100.

Drifting down to his spot on the quay under minimum steerage way he also noticed something else.  All the ships not actively loading ordinance had their radars on.  He couldn’t see into the CIC of course, but based on the sailors in full battle dress and helmets manning the lookout stations and the M2’s on the rails, he bet the ships were fully rigged for a fight.  Any attack from the air on Guam was going to be in for a big surprise.  Normally the largest formation that the Navy would support would be a Carrier Strike Group (CSG) which usually had three Burkes and a Ticonderoga.  During the height of the cold war, this group had been larger but the larger magazine depth of the new Burkes and end of the cold war had meant cutbacks.  However, adding eight Burkes and two Ticonderogas from the Atlantic had shifted things considerably.  The extra ships allowed ComFltPac to take on several missions that hadn’t been possible before.  Now that there were three CSG’s in the Pacific, the Burkes could focus on their anti-air role and leave the attack work to the carriers and subs.

“Skipper, call for you on the sat phone, it’s the J2’s office.”

“Thanks sparky.”  Harris took the handset from the communications officer.  “Kidd, Actual.”

The voice on the other end was brusque.  “Commander, report to building seven when you tie up.  Expedite.”

“Aye aye.  It will be about fifteen minutes, we are still waiting for the tug.”

“Acknowledged.  Out.”

Commander Harris had no idea what the J2’s office wanted to see him for but when a two-star admiral called (even indirectly via his staff), you went.

Building Seven, when he arrived, turned out to be a pretty typical Navy building.  Designed for the tropical heat and the occasional cyclone, it was low with only a few windows.  The sign outside simply said “Operations.”  Two heavily armed marine sentries standing outside checked his ID before letting him in.  The rating at the front desk directed him to a conference room at the back of the building.

Inside, he found more stars than he had ever seen in his life.  ComFltPac was there in person (a four-star), J2 was there along with their seconds and aides.  Harris’ direct superior, a one-star admiral, was one of the more junior officers in the room.  Overall, a very top heavy room.  Harris immediately came to attention.  “Commander Harris, reporting as ordered, SIR!”

“At ease, Harris, take a seat.”  ComFltPac indicated a chair towards the end of the table.  “General Kelley, you can proceed with your briefing.”

A marine General (two-star) stood and gestured to the projected image on the far end of the room.  “Thank you, Sir.  As you know, we have two MAU’s currently steaming for the South China Sea.  We are calling this ‘Operation Leopard.’  Leopard will begin with an F-35 strike on Woody Island’s radar site followed by Growlers off the TR.  The Tomahawk strike from TF Tango will be timed for a simultaneous time on target attack with F-35’s.  Any radars left after the initial bombardment will be taken out by the Growlers.  We have two squadrons of BONEs that will be orbiting 100 miles out for follow on strikes once the radars are taken out.  They will be supported by F-22’s to take out any fighters who get out before the bombardment.  As discussed, the major threat to the MEUs will not be from Woody Island or from PLAN ships.  Our main threat is shore based anti-ship ballistic missiles.  We will position TF Archie to defend the two MEUs and cover the landing.”

Harris had been confused by why he was present.  As the captain of a Burke destroyer, he was as about as helpful in attacking Woody island as wheels on a submarine.  Defending against ballistic missiles, however, was something he knew quite a bit about.  His stomach knotted as he realized why he was here.

ComFltPac was looking at him.  “Commander Harris, since you are the only skipper in the Navy who has experience with the new Chinese anti-ship ballistic missile capability, you will take command of TF Archie.  You will retain command of Kidd and coordinate with the other members of TF Archie.  This is properly a Cruiser command, but moving you to a cruiser now would delay the operation.  Your mission briefing is in the packet my aide is about to give you.”

There was only one answer to a direct order like that.  “Aye aye, sir.”

After the meeting, Harris was smoking a cigarette in the parking lot when his boss strolled over.  “You OK, Neil?  That missile strike was rough.”  Admiral Williams was an old school tin can man.  He had made his bones hunting Russian subs in the Atlantic.  He never seemed thrilled with being in command of an anti-aircraft squadron.

“Yes, sir, the Kidd is ready to fight.  The full AA load-out will help quite a bit.  Feels strange to have zero Tomahawks onboard but I guess there are plenty of other ways for us to deliver a strike if we want to do that.”

“That’s not what I asked Neil.  Are you OK?”

Harris stubbed out the cigarette and straightened his uniform.  “Thank you, sir; I am fine.”

“I hear the ESSM’s didn’t do shit against that inbound.”

“No, sir.  We took one out with an SM-3 but we launched four ESSMs and didn’t get a single hit.  Sparks thinks that the attack profile was wrong and they couldn’t get a lock because they were trying to go straight up.  ESSMs were originally designed to take out bombers and stuff so they mostly got tested in a lateral or turning fight.”

“For what it’s worth, the boffins at Raytheon agree.  We are re-programming your Aegis to counter by focusing on more SM-3’s, the ESSMs are going to target the cruise missiles and the SM-3’s will focus on the ballistics.  Your previous load-out only had four SM-3’s so the system was trying to conserve.”

“That’s an expensive attack profile.”

“Cheaper than losing ships or sailors.  You will be fully loaded out, no land attack at all this time.”

“Roger that.  We are ready to go.”

Williams looked at him critically.  “Then why are you out of uniform?”

Harris looked down, checking.  He wasn’t completely perfect but Williams wasn’t the spit and polish kind of Admiral.  “Sir?”

The Admiral reached into a pocket.  “In my day, a TF commander was a Commodore slot.  I was pretty pissed when they shit-canned the commodore rank.  I always figured commodore was the best rank in the Navy.  It’s a shame, but that’s progress for you.  I guess you’ll have to make do with an extra stripe.  Congratulations Captain, you are promoted to O-6 effective immediately.”  He handed the box to Harris who opened it.  Two shiny captain’s insignia were inside.