USS Bonhomme Richard (LHD-6)
South China Sea
“The Pittsburgh.”
The Admiral looked up from where he had been drafting a contingency plan. “Excuse me Tom?”
“The USS Pittsburgh. She is sitting in Bremerton, waiting for disposition.”
“Isn’t that a 688?” The Los Angeles class of nuclear fast attack submarines had been one of the most successful submarine programs in US history. They also were known as “688’s” in the Navy after the first boat in the class, the USS Los Angeles (SSN-688).
“Yes, sir. Just taken out of service in January. She is still fueled.” While nuclear submarines didn’t use fuel in the normal sense in that they didn’t burn oil or diesel, they use nuclear fuel rods. These rods were extremely toxic and needed to be handled with the utmost caution. Removing them was normally part of decommissioning but the operation took time and had to be planned with care.
The admiral was locked in thought. The Taiwanese had been screaming for submarines for years but the US had been unwilling to sell them a ‘nuc. They had tried to broker deals with other countries but Taiwan was addicted to American weapons. Since America no longer made diesel boats, that meant no modern subs for them unless the USA would unbend and allow them a nuclear boat. A couple of fast attack 688 class boats would change everything in the Taiwan straight.
“Let me make a call.”
Puget Sound Naval Shipyard & Intermediate Maintenance Facility (PSNS & IMF)
Bremerton, Washington
“Mooring Alpha, Chief Wilcox speaking.” The other members of the shore watch team looked up, interested. They had been extremely frustrated to be sitting here on a pier at PSNS when the Navy was fighting a shooting war in the Pacific. After a few words, Wilcox shot upright, almost coming to attention in his chair. “SIR! Yes SIR! Pittsburg is fueled and ready to put to sea sir! Yes SIR!” He paused, listening to the other side. “Sir, if I may? Miami and Buffalo are right here sir. Yes, that’s right, I’m lookin’ right at Miami and Buffalo is just down the way. Some greenie bullshit, we couldn’t take the fuel off them. Yes, SIR! AYE AYE SIR!”
Wilcox put the phone down with a glazed look on his face.
“What the fuck Chief? What gives?”
“That was The Admiral.” You could hear the capital letters.
“An admiral? Which one? Old birch for brains?”
“No, ya dumbass. THE FUCKING ADMIRAL. You know SACPAC?!?!!”
“No shit? You said ‘greenie bullshit’ to the Admiral?”
“Fuck, I guess I did.”
That broke the tension a bit, nervous chuckles broke out in the small shack used as ops shack for the shore watch team.
“Gents, we got a fuckin’ job to do after all. I told you that getting those boats ready was worth the work! We are gonna get those three boats up and running and we are going to take them to sea!”
In an amazingly short time, the conversation went from incredulous to focused. Within thirty minutes, work was underway. They had been doing extra shifts for the past few weeks to make sure the subs were ready if called. The team at PSNS had expected calls to ready the reserve fleet before this, but no calls had come. Because each active submarine in the US Navy had two full crews, they actually had more personnel for submarines than they had active ships for them to work on. Something unique to the silent service.
Wilcox knew that there was one department that could make or break this operation: supply. If they could get the parts, food and other consumables they needed they could be underway in two days. If not, the project was over before it began. He went back to the phone and dialed a number he had memorized.
“PSNS supply, Cox speaking.”
“Well, hello Lee Rose! How are Neal and your two darling children doing?”
“Hello, Randy. You know that Neal is on the Ohio. I haven’t heard from him since the balloon went up.”
“Sorry Lee Rose, I thought he was on Gold crew and rotated off.”
“They were just working up when they got the recall.”
“Well, she’s a fine boat and Marklee is a great captain. Neal will be fine.”
“I’m a Navy wife, Randy. I know how dangerous it is.” There was a pause on the other end of the line. “What is it you need? You only call me when you need something special.”
The American Institute in Taiwan (AIT)
Taipei City, Taiwan
Because of the American “One China” policy, there is no US embassy in Taiwan. Instead, there is the AIT. There was no ambassador, there was a director. Similarly, there was no military attache. Instead, there was the “Chief, Liaison Affairs Section.”
The phone on Harrison’s desk rang. “Liaison Affairs, Commander Harrison.”
There was a very long pause.
“SIR! YES, SIR!”
Harrison put down the phone after listening for a full five minutes and looked incredulously at his office mate, an Army Major. “You are not going to believe this, Chris.”