Hellfire c 20, p.27
Hellfire c-20, page 27
part #20 of Carrier Series
Tombstone reached down to safe his ejection seat, then stood. He swung one leg over the side of the aircraft, groping for the foothold, then descended to the deck.
There was a moment of confusion on the deck, then the yellow shirts stormed across nonskid and clambered up the boarding ladder. Jeremy unfastened his ejection harness and climbed into the front seat. He popped the brakes, taxiied to the spot, and ran through the shutdown checklists. There were still Tomcats in the air that needed to get down on deck, and they couldn’t land until this aircraft moved.
Tombstone walked blindly across the deck, saying nothing. Her voice drowned out the rest of the world. Two white-shirt safety deck observers were shortly joined by Admiral Grant. A corpsman slipped in beside him, followed shortly by a doctor. The rest of the flight deck crew formed a protective circle around him.
Tombstone disappeared into the skin of the ship. Greene watched him go.
TWENTY-THREE
Monday, July 7
USS Jefferson
2000 local (GMT-9)
Pamela had just returned from the shower and was toweling off her wet hair when she heard the announcement over the 1MC. The ship had been at flight quarters for a couple of hours, but that was no big deal. After all, this was an aircraft carrier.
But the bongs from the ship’s bell startled her. She glanced at her clock to see if they were chiming the hour for some reason, but it wasn’t time for bells. The carrier had never used bells for hours regularly anyway.
And the bongs continued, on and on and on. She counted, stopping at eight.
Who the hell? Only top officials, up to and including the president, rated eight bells. She shoved her hair into some semblance of a style, grabbed her tape recorder and her sunglasses, and headed for the flight deck. Her cameraman was smart — Jeff would meet her there. He knew what eight bells meant.
There was a crowd of people heading for the flight deck and she went with the flow, up the ladders and then out the hatch into the bright sunshine. To her surprise, several hundred sailors already stood in formation in their white uniforms. The captain, executive officer, and the admiral stood at a microphone stand in front of them.
As she watched, the helicopter hatch opened. Two lines of sideboys formed up, all immaculate in dress whites. Bells, sideboys — who exactly was this?
Seconds later, she knew. Six men in dark jumpsuits wearing sunglasses and caps emerged, fanning out around the sideboys. They checked the crowd carefully, then one of them turned back to the helicopter.
A familiar figure — tall, dark hair with silver along the edges, and bright blue eyes — emerged. He seemed at home on the flight deck, entirely comfortable with the military honors being rendered, and returned the salutes tendered snappily.
The president. What was he doing here, so soon after the election? Shouldn’t he be in Washington, attending parties? Then the scene became surreal in the extreme. The president walked toward Coyote and Captain Phillips, returned their salutes, and then accepted a small box and a padded certificate holder from the admiral. He looked around, as though puzzled.
An awards ceremony, then. So why wasn’t it announced? And who was it for? A number of names came immediately to her mind, and she swore silently about the public affairs officer’s failure to notify her about the ceremony. No, it wasn’t hard news, but it was good human interest stuff.
Her cameraman had arrived and stood by her side. He was already rolling as the president emerged from his helicopter.
The admiral saw them, and to her amazement, the admiral and a president began walking toward her. She had a brief, irrational impulse to curtsy, which she suppressed immediately.
“Ms. Drake,” the president said. “How are you feeling now?”
“Fine, Mr. President. None of us suffered any injuries.”
“Well, fine. I’m afraid I have some bad news for you, Ms. Drake.” The president’s expression was somber. Pamela felt a flash of anger. Tombstone had promised she was out of purgatory. If the president thought he was going to get good press for this ceremony, he had another think coming.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. President. Of course, the freedom of the press has always been something you’ve supported. If you intend to reinstate the admiral’s policy of barring the press from significant events, then I’m afraid I will have to—”
“Ms. Drake, I think you want to shut up right now,” Coyote said, a huge grin breaking out on his face. “The bad news is not that we’re going to get rid of you. It’s that for once in your life, perhaps the first and final time, you are the last one to know something.”
“What?” Pamela searched for words, unable to figure out why both the president and the admiral were grinning at her. Then the admiral stepped to her side, offered her his arm, and said, “You are the guest of honor at this little ceremony, Ms. Drake. And I would be honored to escort you to the podium.”
She turned to her cameraman and was not surprised to see him laughing at her, still taping. “You knew,” she said accusingly.
“Listen to the admiral, Drake,” Jeff said.
Five minutes later, Pamela Drake was sporting a defense metal on her lapel. And trying desperately to figure out how she was going to explain it to her boss.
GLOSSARY
0–3 LEVEL: The third deck above the main deck. Designations for decks above the main deck (also known as the damage control deck) begin with zero, e.g., 0–3. The zero is pronounced as “oh” in conversation. Decks below the main deck do not have the initial zero and are numbered down from the main deck, e.g., deck 11 is below deck 3. Deck 0–7 is above deck 0–3.
IMC: The general announcing system on a ship or submarine. Every ship has many different interior communications systems, most of them linking parts of the ship for a specific purpose. Most operate off sound-powered phones. The circuit designators consist of a number followed by two letters that indicate the specific purpose of the circuit. 2AS, for instance, might be an antisubmarine warfare circuit that connects the sonar supervisor, the USW watch officer, and the sailor at the torpedo launch.
AIR BOSS: A senior commander or captain assigned to the aircraft carrier, in charge of flight operations. The “boss” is assisted by the mini-boss in Pri-Fly, located in the tower on board the carrier. The air boss is always in the tower during flight operations, overseeing the launch and recovery cycles, declaring a green deck, and monitoring the safe approach of aircraft to the carrier.
AIR WING: Composed of the aircraft squadrons assigned to the battle group. The individual squadron commanding officers report to the air wing commander, who reports to the admiral.
AIRDALE: Slang for an officer or enlisted person in the aviation fields. Includes pilots, NFOs, aviation intelligence officers, maintenance officers, and the enlisted technicians who support aviation. The antithesis of an airdale is a “shoe.”
AKULA: Late-model Russian-built attack nuclear submarine, an SSN. Fast, deadly, and deep diving.
ALR-67: Detects, analyzes, and evaluates electromagnetic signals, emits a warning signal if the parameters are compatible with an immediate threat to the aircraft, e.g., seeker head on an anti-air missile. Can also detect an enemy radar in either a search or a targeting mode.
ALTITUDE: is safety. With enough airspace under the wings, a pilot can solve any problem.
AMRAAM: Advanced medium-range anti-air missile.
ANGELS: Thousands of feet over ground. Angels twenty is twenty thousand feet. Cherubs indicates hundreds of feet, e.g., cherubs five = five hundred feet.
ASW: Anti-submarine warfare, recently renamed undersea warfare. For some reason.
AVIONICS: Black boxes and systems that comprise an aircraft’s combat systems.
AW: Aviation anti-submarine warfare technician, the enlisted specialist flying in an S-3, P-3, or helo USW aircraft. As this book goes to press, there is discussion of renaming the specialty.
AWACS: An aircraft entirely too good for the Air Force, the advanced warning aviation control system. Long-range command-and-control and electronic-intercept bird with superb capabilities.
AWG-9: Pronounced “awg nine,” the primary search and fire control radar on a Tomcat.
BACKSEATER: Also known as the GIB, the guy in back. Nonpilot aviator available in several flavors: BN (bombardier/navigator), RIO (radar intercept operator), and TACCO (tactical control officer), among others. Usually wears glasses and is smart.
BEAR: Russian maritime patrol aircraft, the equivalent in rough terms of a U.S. P-3. Variants have primary missions in command and control, submarine hunting, and electronic intercepts. Big, slow, good targets.
BITCH BOX: One interior communications system on a ship. So named because it’s normally used to bitch at another watch station.
BLUE ON BLUE: Fratricide. U.S. forces are normally indicated in blue on tactical displays, and this term refers to an attack on a friendly by another friendly.
BLUE WATER NAVY: Outside the unrefueled range of the air wing. When a carrier enters blue water ops, aircraft must get on board — i.e., land — and cannot divert to land if the pilot gets the shakes.
BOOMER: Slang for a ballistic missile submarine.
BOQ: Bachelor officer quarters — a Motel Six for single officers or those traveling without family. The Air Force also has VOQ, visiting officer quarters.
BUSTER: As fast as you can, i.e., bust yer ass getting here.
C-2 GREYHOUND: Also known as the COD, carrier on-board delivery. The COD carries cargo and passengers from shore to ship. It is capable of carrier landings. Sometimes assigned directly to the air wing, it also operates in coordination with CVBGs from a shore squadron.
CAG: Carrier air group commander, normally a senior Navy captain aviator. Technically, an obsolete term, since the air wing rather than an air group is now deployed on the carrier. However, everyone thought CAW sounded stupid, so CAG was retained as slang for the carrier air wing commander.
CAP: Combat air patrol, a mission executed by fighters to protect the carrier and battle group from enemy air and missiles.
CARRIER BATTLE GROUP: A combination of ships, air wing, and submarines assigned under the command of a one-star admiral.
CARRIER BATTLE GROUP 14: The battle group normally embarked on Jefferson.
CBG: see Carrier battle group
CDC: Combat direction center — in the modern era, replaced CIC, or combat information center, as the heart of a ship. All sensor information is fed into CDC, and the battle is coordinated by a tactical action officer on watch there.
CG: Abbreviation for a cruiser.
CHIEF: The backbone of the Navy. E-7, -8, and -9 enlisted paygrades, known as chief, senior chief, and master chief. The transition from petty officer ranks to the chief’s mess is a major event in a sailor’s career. On board ship, the chiefs have separate eating and berthing facilities. Chiefs wear khakis, as opposed to dungarees for the less senior enlisted ratings.
CHIEF OF STAFF: Not to be confused with a chief, the COS in a battle group staff is normally a senior Navy captain who acts as the admiral’s XO and deputy.
CIA: Christians in Action. The civilian agency charged with intelligence operations outside the continental United States.
CIWS: Close-in weapons system, pronounced “see-whiz.” Gattling gun with built-in radar that tracks and fires on inbound missiles. If you have to use it, you’re dead.
COD: see C-2 Greyhound
COLLAR COUNT: Traditional method of determining the winner of a disagreement. A survey is taken of the opponents’ collar devices. The senior person wins. Always.
COMMODORE: Formerly the junior-most admiral rank, now used to designate a senior Navy captain in charge of a bunch of like units. A destroyer commodore commands several destroyers, a sea control commodore the S-3 squadrons on that coast. Contrast with a CAG, who owns a number of dissimilar units, e.g., a couple of Tomcat squadrons, some Hornets, and some E-2s and helos.
COMPARTMENT: Navy talk for a room on a ship.
CONDITION TWO: One step down from general quarters, which is Condition One. Condition Five is tied up at the pier in a friendly country.
CRYPTO: Short for some variation of cryptological, the magic set of codes that makes a circuit impossible for anyone else to understand.
CV, CVN: Abbreviation for an aircraft carrier, conventional and nuclear.
CVIC: Carrier intelligence center. Located down the passageway (the hall) from the flag spaces.
DATA LINK, THE LINK: The secure circuit that links all units in a battle group or in an area. Targets and contacts are transmitted over the LINK to all ships. The data is processed by the ship designated as Net Control, and common contacts are correlated. The system also transmits data from each ship and aircraft’s weapons systems, e.g., a missile firing. All services use the LINK.
DDG: Guided missile destroyer.
DESK JOCKEY: Nonflyer, one who drives a computer instead of an aircraft.
DESRON: Destroyer commander.
DICASS: An active sonobuoy.
DICK STEPPING: Something to be avoided. While anatomically impossible in today’s gender-integrated services, in an amazing display of good sense, it has been decided that women can do this as well.
DOPPLER: Acoustic phenomena caused by relative motion between a sound source and a receiver that results in an apparent change in frequency of the sound. The classic example is a train going past and the decrease in pitch of its whistle. When a submarine changes its course or speed in relation to a sonobuoy, the event shows up as a change in the frequency of the sound source.
DOUBLE NUTS: Zero zero on the tail of an aircraft.
E-2 HAWKEYE: Command and control and surveillance aircraft. Turboprop rather than jet, and unarmed. Smaller version of an AWACS, in practical terms, but carrier-based.
ELF: Extremely low frequency, a method of communicating with submarines at sea. Signals are transmitted via a miles-long antenna and are the only way of reaching a deeply submerged submarine.
ENVELOPE: What you’re supposed to fly inside of if you want to take all the fun out of naval aviation.
EWs: Electronic warfare technicians, the enlisted sailors that man the gear that detects, analyzes, and displays electromagnetic signals. Highly classified stuff.
F/A-18 HORNETS: The inadequate, fuel-hungry intended replacement for the aging but still kick-your-ass-potent Tomcat. Flown by Marines and Navy.
FAMILYGRAM: Short messages from submarine sailors’ families to their deployed sailors. Often the only contact with the outside world that a submarine sailor on deployment has.
FF/FFG: Abbreviation for a fast frigate (no, there aren’t slow frigates) and a guided-missile fast frigate.
FLAG OFFICER: In the Navy and Coast Guard, an admiral. In the other services, a general.
FLAG PASSAGEWAY: The portion of the aircraft carrier that houses the admiral’s staff working spaces. Includes the flag mess and the admiral’s cabin. Normally separated from the rest of the ship by heavy plastic curtains, and designated by blue tile on the deck instead of white.
FLIGHT QUARTERS: A condition set on board a ship preparing to launch or recover aircraft. All unnecessary persons are required to stay inside the skin of the ship and remain clear of the flight deck area.
FLIGHT SUIT: The highest form of navy couture. The perfect choice of apparel for any occasion — indeed, the only uniform an aviator ought to be required to own.
FOD: Stands for foreign object damage, but the term is used to indicate any loose gear that could cause damage to an aircraft. During flight operations, aircraft generate a tremendous amount of air flowing across the deck. Loose objects — including people and nuts and bolts — can be sucked into the intake and discharged through the outlet of the jet engine. FOD damages the jet’s impellers and doesn’t do much for the people sucked in, either. FOD walkdown is conducted at least once a day on board an aircraft carrier. Everyone not otherwise engaged stands shoulder to shoulder on the flight deck and slowly walks from one end of the flight deck to the other, searching for FOD.
FOX: Tactical shorthand for a missile firing. Fox one indicates a heat-seeking missile, fox two an infrared missile, and fox three a radar-guided missile.
GCI: Ground control intercept, a procedure used in the Soviet air forces. Primary control for vectoring the aircraft in on enemy targets and other fighters is vested in a guy on the ground, rather than in the cockpit where it belongs.
GIB: see backseater
GMT: Greenwich mean time.
GREEN SHIRTS: see shirts
HANDLER: Officer located on the flight deck level responsible for ensuring that aircraft are correctly positioned—“spotted”—on the flight deck. Coordinates the movements of aircraft with yellow gear (small tractors that tow aircraft and other related gear) from maintenance areas to catapults, and from the flight deck to the hangar bar via the elevators. Speaks frequently with the air boss. see also bitch box
HARMS: Anti-radiation missiles that home in on radar sites.
HOME PLATE: Tactical call sign for Jefferson.
HOT: In reference to a sonobuoy, holding enemy contact.
HUFFER: Yellow gear located on the flight deck that generates compressed air to start jet engines. Most Navy aircraft do not need a huffer to start engines, but it can be used in emergencies or for maintenance.
HUNTER: Call sign for the S-3 squadron embarked on the Jefferson.
ICS: Interior communications system. The private link between a pilot and a RIO, or the telephone system internal to a ship.
INCHOPPED: Navy talk for a ship entering a defined area of water, e.g. inchopped the Med.
IR: Infrared, a method of missile homing.
ISOTHERMAL: A layer of water that has a constant temperature with increasing depth. Located below the thermocline, where increase in depth correlates to decrease in temperature. In the isothermal layer, the primary factor affecting the speed of sound in water is the increase in pressure with depth.
