the main road outside of the Bangor Submarine Base earned an appreciative nod from his commanding officer.
Before he could even ask about the message’s contents, Guthrie calmly handed it to him. “These orders come straight from the top, Jerry. Were through with the exercise and are to proceed at best speed to the central Persian Gulf. We’ve been ordered to extract two individuals with critical information on Iran’s nuclear program. Apparently we are a last-minute backup plan and have to get to the rendezvous location in less than forty-five hours.” He emphasized that last point by repeatedly poking at the message paragraph containing that little tidbit.
Guthrie’s rapid-fire summarization made it difficult for Jerry to read the message and listen at the same time. He saw the “Z” prosign in the message header signifying a “FLASH” precedence message. This meant the sender had to process and get this message out as fast as possible, preferably in less than ten minutes. The list of information addresses was impressive, starting with Special Operations Command, Naval Special Warfare Command, Commander, Submarine Forces Pacific, and on down to Michigan’s submarine squadron and SEAL Team Three, the parent unit of Charlie Platoon. He also noticed the message was classified at the Top Secret level with limited distribution. As he hit the meat of the message, Jerry found it contained little more than what Guthrie had already said, along with “more information to follow.”
Guthrie gave his exec twenty seconds before shooting out a string of commands.
“We’ll have to put the spurs to her if we’re to make it, but even so it’s gonna be dang close. Get the OOD to change course to due west, bring the reactor coolant pumps online, and get us up to seventeen knots. Then have all department heads, the COB, and SEAL platoon members muster in the BMC in five minutes.”
“Change course to cardinal west, bring reactor coolant pumps online, and make seventeen knots. Muster all department heads, the COB, and SEAL platoon members in the BMC in five minutes, aye, sir,” Jerry replied; a complete verbatim repeat back of an order was standard Navy operating procedure to ensure that it was properly heard and understood.
“Good, now git to it.”
“If I may, Captain. There is a medical issue that I need to report. Lieutenant—”
“Is it life-threatening?” interrupted Guthrie.
“No, sir.”
“Then it can wait, Jerry It’s more important right now to get us heading toward the rendezvous point.”
“Begging your pardon, sir, I believe this is relevant. . .”
“I said later, XO.” Guthrie’s firm response signaled the end of the discussion.
“Aye, aye, sir,” responded Jerry, chastened.
Turning to leave, he placed the message on the table and then walked swiftly toward the door. He heard the radio room watch stander say, “Skipper, another message is coming in on the new mission,” as he shut the door.
The control room was barely ten paces aft of the radio room and Jerry marched directly to the periscope stand where Lieutenant Nelson stood with eager anticipation.
“OOD, change course to two seven zero. Have maneuvering bring the reactor coolant pumps online and get us to seventeen knots ASAP. Then announce over the 1MC for all department heads, the COB, and SEAL platoon members to muster in the battle management center.”
Nelson accurately recited the orders. While he began to carry them out, Jerry moved over by the fire control consoles to get out of the way. The XO’s presence could be something of a distraction, since most of the time his presence was the harbinger of yet another drill. But this time it was the real thing, and being out of the direct line of sight of the watch standers helped to reinforce that this wasn’t another training evolution.
USS Michigan was the second of eighteen Ohio -class
Before he could even ask about the message’s contents, Guthrie calmly handed it to him. “These orders come straight from the top, Jerry. Were through with the exercise and are to proceed at best speed to the central Persian Gulf. We’ve been ordered to extract two individuals with critical information on Iran’s nuclear program. Apparently we are a last-minute backup plan and have to get to the rendezvous location in less than forty-five hours.” He emphasized that last point by repeatedly poking at the message paragraph containing that little tidbit.
Guthrie’s rapid-fire summarization made it difficult for Jerry to read the message and listen at the same time. He saw the “Z” prosign in the message header signifying a “FLASH” precedence message. This meant the sender had to process and get this message out as fast as possible, preferably in less than ten minutes. The list of information addresses was impressive, starting with Special Operations Command, Naval Special Warfare Command, Commander, Submarine Forces Pacific, and on down to Michigan’s submarine squadron and SEAL Team Three, the parent unit of Charlie Platoon. He also noticed the message was classified at the Top Secret level with limited distribution. As he hit the meat of the message, Jerry found it contained little more than what Guthrie had already said, along with “more information to follow.”
Guthrie gave his exec twenty seconds before shooting out a string of commands.
“We’ll have to put the spurs to her if we’re to make it, but even so it’s gonna be dang close. Get the OOD to change course to due west, bring the reactor coolant pumps online, and get us up to seventeen knots. Then have all department heads, the COB, and SEAL platoon members muster in the BMC in five minutes.”
“Change course to cardinal west, bring reactor coolant pumps online, and make seventeen knots. Muster all department heads, the COB, and SEAL platoon members in the BMC in five minutes, aye, sir,” Jerry replied; a complete verbatim repeat back of an order was standard Navy operating procedure to ensure that it was properly heard and understood.
“Good, now git to it.”
“If I may, Captain. There is a medical issue that I need to report. Lieutenant—”
“Is it life-threatening?” interrupted Guthrie.
“No, sir.”
“Then it can wait, Jerry It’s more important right now to get us heading toward the rendezvous point.”
“Begging your pardon, sir, I believe this is relevant. . .”
“I said later, XO.” Guthrie’s firm response signaled the end of the discussion.
“Aye, aye, sir,” responded Jerry, chastened.
Turning to leave, he placed the message on the table and then walked swiftly toward the door. He heard the radio room watch stander say, “Skipper, another message is coming in on the new mission,” as he shut the door.
The control room was barely ten paces aft of the radio room and Jerry marched directly to the periscope stand where Lieutenant Nelson stood with eager anticipation.
“OOD, change course to two seven zero. Have maneuvering bring the reactor coolant pumps online and get us to seventeen knots ASAP. Then announce over the 1MC for all department heads, the COB, and SEAL platoon members to muster in the battle management center.”
Nelson accurately recited the orders. While he began to carry them out, Jerry moved over by the fire control consoles to get out of the way. The XO’s presence could be something of a distraction, since most of the time his presence was the harbinger of yet another drill. But this time it was the real thing, and being out of the direct line of sight of the watch standers helped to reinforce that this wasn’t another training evolution.
USS Michigan was the second of eighteen Ohio -class
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