Episode 49

Naval Mobile Construction Battalion Three (NMCB 3) 

20 Miles South of Fiery Cross Reef, South China Sea

Commander Greyson watched calmly as the Senior Chief double checked the tie downs on the front end loaders on the LCAC. While the hovercraft were generally stable platforms, nobody wanted to see the multi ton machine moving around while under way.

Although Seabees were not warriors by trade, he had been under fire supporting Marine operations in Afghanistan and Iraq. He knew this could get ugly for his men. While each of them were armed with an M4, everyone knew that the Marines would do the real fighting if necessary.

No, Greyson’s crew were builders. Engineers, construction crews and all the equipment that went with the job. Just last month they had built a school in Malaysia and before that a bridge in Thailand. Now they would be constructing shelters and if needed repairing the airstrip on Fiery Cross while their brethren did the same to the other air strips the Marines had captured earlier in the day.

“All ready to go Commander. Please get to your vehicle and strap in.”

“Thank you Chief.”

As the large hovercraft spun up it’s engines it started to rise up on its air cushion. Carefully backing out of the LPD, the ship spun around and started towards the artificial island which wasn’t visible in the distance. Finding the island wouldn’t be a problem, columns of smoke were still rising from burning buildings and vehicles as a result of the earlier attack. Waiting safely in his vehicle, Greyson reflected that riding to work in a hovercraft wasn’t the worst way to commute. They were relatively speedy, moving along at 40 knots which was slow for a car, but very fast for a ship. On the other hand, they threw up huge clouds of spray which made them very easy to spot coming in.

The pilot knew her job. They quickly made their way to the artificial harbor and the pre-sighted ramp which allowed them to fly the hovercraft right onto the island and down to the airstrip. Of course, she had made the trip several times today so it wasn’t new to her. As the ship settled down on one of the taxiways, the Navy crew started to untie the construction equipment while another crew member lowered the front ramp.

Greyson’s Hummer was the first off the hovercraft. As planned, there was a temporary command post just to the side of the secure LZ that had been established early in the attack.

“Major, we are ready to deploy. Any changes from the site plan I need to know about?”

“No sir. No major changes. There was actually less damage to the buildings than we thought. First priority remains revetments for the incoming aircraft. Then for the missile batteries. We will also need accommodation for the air crews.”

“Excellent Major, thank you for keeping the LZ safe for us.”

Greyson returned the Major’s salute and went to find his senior enlisted. They would be doing the bulk of the work. Seabee officers weren’t afraid of rolling up their sleeves, but the Chiefs and Senior Chiefs were very experienced and would make quick work of assembling the necessary Hesco barriers. The tall wire bound sacks were one of those small but impactful innovations that totally changed warfare. Basically, they were large sacks that were stiffened by heavy gauge wire. You could fold them flat when empty and the Seabees had brought over ten thousand of them on a series of heavy trucks. However, when you stood them on end, you could quickly fill them with dirt (or in this case, sand) and they made an excellent barrier against bullets or bombs. Four men and a front end loader could erect more Hesco barriers in a day than an entire platoon could fill sandbags in a week.

“Harvey, get down to the platoon guarding the dredgers. I want them moved at least two hundred yards east. It looks like we have plenty of sand thanks to our Chinese friends, but we don’t want them taken out by by a stray missile.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“Wendel, Jeffries, get the men broken up into three teams. I want at least ten revetments ready to go before dark.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

As the men hurried to their tasks, Greyson surveyed the airfield. It was remarkably undamaged. It looked like the runway was usable as is and most of the nearby buildings had survived. Unfortunately, that didn’t include the refueling system or the tanks of jet fuel. The American attack had destroyed all the aircraft shelters on the islands, but the Americans fully expected a counterattack and they wanted to be ready for it.

“Let’s move gentlemen! The zoomies will be here in two hours and we all know the Air Force DOES NOT sleep on the ground!”

A general chuckle ran through the men within earshot as they moved to their work. Diesel engines roared as the front end loaders went in search of sand to load into the Hescos.

34th Fighter Squadron

50 Miles South East Fiery Cross Reef

“Tango Delta. Ram flight with you at angels 20.”

“Roger Ram Flight. Altimeter Two Nine Eight Zero. Cleared to land, VFR on runway two three.”

While Lieutenant Colonel Williamson had expected many things when approaching an enemy held position, an American voice giving him straight in landing clearance wasn’t really one of them. Of course, that was the hope when they left Hill AFB, but they hadn’t known when they took off how well or poorly the attack would go. Worse case, the plan had been to provide air support as needed and then divert to Brunei, four hundred miles to the south.

Williamson banked his F-35A and carefully eyeballed the landing strip far below. Under Visual Flight Rules, he would approach at a right angle to runway 23, then turn down wind and make a landing into the wind. Just like any private pilot at any runway back home. Of course, in this case a couple hundred marines were guarding the air strip and the Chinese could show up at any moment. Other than that, just like back home in his dad’s Piper Cub.

Williamson signaled to his wingman and started his approach. One way or another, things were going to be very interesting for the first USAF F-35A squadron to join the war.

MV Cape Hudson (T-AKR 5066)

Fiery Cross Reef, Inner Harbor

“Helmsman, say your depth.”

“Aye sir, I am reading thirty feet beneath my keel.”

“Very well. Carry on.”

Normally, a ship the size of the Hudson would have at least one tug boat helping it come into a harbor and they certainly would not try to navigate a new harbor without a pilot. However, tug boats and combat zones were contra-indicated and the locals were all either dead or in Marine custody so the local harbor pilot option was also out of the picture. Loweston had his most steady helmsman working the wheel and lookouts posted fore and aft to help guide them into the harbor.

Luckily, the wind was light and there was no current in the artificial harbor which made the approach simpler. Unfortunately, there were no navigation buoys and his chart was completely out of date. The Seabees had quickly scouted a route with a small boat and this was the route they were using to get into the harbor.

“All ahead, dead slow. Rudder amidships.”

“Dead slow, aye. My rudder is amidships.”

Slowing to a crawl, the RO-RO inched up to the quay. Marines with rifles slung on their backs waited to receive their lines. Loweston wasn’t sure if any of them had ever handled a large ship before so he had two crewmen ready to go in a bosun’s chair. As soon as they got close they would quickly winch them down to help secure the ship. As Loweston nervously paced the bridge wing, the large ship slowly approached.

“All back. Hard to starboard.”

“All back, aye. My rudder hard starboard.”

“All stop!!”

“All stop, aye.”

The big cargo ship gently kissed the cement quay and the bumpers they had rigged out absorbed the shock. Messenger lines flew out to the waiting Marines who quickly pulled in the lines and then the larger mooring lines which followed. Someone had briefed them or they had naval experience because they were able to secure the ship safely if not extremely neatly to the waiting bollards.

Loweston spoke into the small radio he had been holding. “OK Bill, get a crew to police the mooring lines and drop the ramp. I am sure our guests are eager to get going.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” As he watched over the sailors moving quickly to secure the ship, a squadron of F-35A’s passed overhead as they came in to land.

Loweston walked back into the bridge where Colonel Rutgers was impatiently waiting. “Colonel, your vehicles should be able to depart in five minutes. Welcome to Fiery Cross Reef.”

“Thank you Captain. Best Naval voyage I have ever been on.”

“And the first, I imagine.”

“And the first.”

“You going to be able to protect this little fly speck?”

“I damn well will, or die trying. I’ve lost troops on my watch before, don’t plan to do it again.”

The entire THAAD battery was off the ship and getting set up on the athletic field within fifteen minutes.