The Kidd Incident

E-3 “Sentry Seven,” 961st Airborne Air Control Squadron

Flight Level 390, Twenty Miles South, DMZ, South Korea

Lieutenant Langdon was tired. Bone tired. There were never enough E-3’s to go around and during wartime, they were flying around the clock. Twelve-hour missions followed by eight hours down and then twelve hours on again. Week after week, this had resulted in a very tired crew, including Langdon.

He yawned again and thought about yet another cup of the terrible coffee. The acid in his stomach said no, but his sleepy head said yes.

The watch sergeant waved for his attention. “El Tee, looks like we have a big raid forming up in China. We’ve got what look like fighters rotating at six bases right now.”

“What do the elint guys say?”

“Same. Getting radio chatter from their radios. Forming up for a large strike. Intel says it’s a strike mission in support of DPRK.”

“OK, this may be it, then. Get the airbase details up to command, they want to know exactly where those bogeys come from.”

Langdon and all the AWACs officers in theater had VERY specific orders. They were to watch for unusual air activity in China and report anything like this directly to Pacific Theater Command. Not something that a lowly lieutenant normally did.

“Get Pearl on the horn. Give them a rundown and issue a Long Snap alert message.”

Pacific Command HQ

Joint Base Hickam Pearl Harbor, Hawaii

General Braverman hurried across the quad to the Admiral’s office. The alert message from Sentry Seven in his hand. Taking the stairs two at a time, he was in the Admiral’s outer office less than five minutes after receiving the message. With something this momentous, he needed to be there in person and five minutes wouldn’t make or break the operation.

The orderly looked up at Braverman’s abrupt entrance. “Sir?”

Braverman waved the message slip at the orderly. “I need to see the Admiral. NOW!”

“Yes, sir!”

The Admiral was at his desk reviewing reports. “Admiral, you need to see this.”

The Admiral took the message form and read it calmly. “Recommendation?”

“Issue the go order.”

“Yes, I think you’re right.” He picked up a phone on his desk and dialed a phone from memory. “Ops? This is the Admiral.” A pause. “Echo Foxtrot Delta Zulu. Thank you. I have a tasking order. To all commands, Pacific Theater, from Supreme Commander Allied Forces Pacific. Long Snap is go. Initiate existing orders for Long Snap, immediate.” Another pause. “Confirm readback correct.”

Braverman waited until the Admiral put the phone down. “Congratulations, your prediction worked out perfectly.”

The Admiral fixed a steady gaze on Braverman. “I’ve just signed the death warrant of thousands.”

“And saved how many more? If this thing keeps going, it will make Long Snap look like a cakewalk.”

“Just because the alternatives are worse, I don’t get a free pass for my actions.”

“No, but I think you have to give yourself a break, knowing that you did the right thing.”

“I hope you are right Tom. I certainly hope you are right.”

Condor 49 (VP-4)

100 NM Northeast of Woody Island

“Ping Pong! Wake up!” Karsen was fuzzy from the blow to the head he had received when the P-8 crashed. He could taste blood in his mouth, but he didn’t seem to have any broken bones. Travers was hanging limply from her restraints and blood was trickling down her face.

One of the petty officers came forward. “Get out of here, the plane is taking on water!”

“Help me with her.”

“She’s gone man, get the fuck out of here before it’s too late!”

“No, she’s alive!”

“Fuck that, I’m outta here. This kite is sinking.”

Karsen reached over and grabbed the petty officer by the front of his flight suit. “You will help me get the captain free or God help me, I will kill you myself.”

Whatever the petty officer saw in Karsen’s eyes, he chose not to challenge the order further. Working together, they quickly got Travers out of her seat and began the arduous process of pulling her down the passageway to the side door. Like a commercial aircraft, the door was equipped with an emergency slide which was also a raft. Karsen pulled the handle to open the door and the emergency slide opened with a loud hiss of compressed air.

“Get her in there.”

“Sir, she’s dead. Let’s go.”

“She’s not dead, just help me. She fought this bitch all the way down to the water and saved us all. No way we leave her.”

Water was starting to invade the interior of the airplane as they got Travers into the slide. Karsen was careful to ensure that Travers was on her back and her face was uncovered.

“Make sure everyone gets out.”

“EVERYONE OUT! OUT! OUT!”

Most of the crew were mobile, a credit to the strength of the P-8 and the quality of the seats they had been strapped into. A few had head injuries like Travers and one had somehow broken their wrist. Within five minutes the entire crew was out of the plane and into a collection of six life rafts. Travers was the most seriously wounded of the group.

“Get the rafts tied together!!”

“Pull the emergency kit, get some shark repellent out!”

As the plane slid under the water, Karsen reached over to check on Travers. She was still unconscious, but she was breathing. Karsen breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Anyone a rated medic?” Silence. Unsure what to do, Karsen decided that just leaving her on her back was the safest course of action. Hopefully, she was just knocked out and would recover.

“Lieutenant! Over there!” Karsen wasn’t sure who had spoken, but after he straightened up, he could see the cause of alarm. On the horizon was a ship.

“That’s a frigate. Not one of ours.”

“Oh, shit.”

Karsen didn’t know what to do. What would Ping Pong do? She wouldn’t give up, that’s for damn sure. “Pipe down. Keep your heads down. Maybe they don’t see us. Who has the rescue radio?”

“Me, sir.”

“Get on the horn, report our position.”

“Aye, sir.”

Kersen could hear the rating muttering into the radio. It was unlikely that anyone was close enough to help, but it was all they had.

Over the next twenty minutes, it became obvious that the Chinese frigate had sighted them. The ship had turned and was significantly closer than it was when they had first sighted it. “They see us. I think we’re fucked.”

“What’s the word from command?”

“They say ‘hang tight, asset notified'”

“Asset notified? What the hell does that mean?”

Two minutes later, they had their answer.

“Torpedo! I think someone just torped that boat!”

“What the fuck?”

“I think it’s one of ours!! Holy shit! They blew the fuck outta that frigate!”

Everyone was talking at once. Kersen could hardly hear himself think. “Quiet! QUIET! JONES! Report in, let them know the frigate is down hard.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Periscope!! Periscope there!”

As everyone turned to look, a slender periscope surfaced and did a full 360-degree scan. Shortly afterward, a mass of bubbles came to the surface, followed by the most beautiful thing Kersen had ever seen; a sleek black shape emerged from the water.

“Motherfucker! Look at that big bitch!”

“It’s one of ours.”

“Is an Ohio class. I served on one my first cruise.”

“ROW godammit! Get over there!”

Between the air crew’s frantic rowing with whatever was close to hand and the submarine crew breaking out a rubber dinghy, they were able to pull the collection of rafts up to the submarine relatively quickly.

A grizzled Master Chief peered down into the motley collection. “You all right down there?”

“We need a medic. Most of us are fine but the captain here is unconscious.”

“Corpsman!! Chief Cox, front and center.” The submarine crew used a rope boarding ladder to help the aircrew onto the submarine and assisted with the still unconscious Captain Travers. “Move it! We’re a sitting duck here on the surface!”

After a remarkedly short period of time on the surface, the submarine returned to the safety of the deep water.