Sea Skimmer (Jon Hunt Book 1) Read online

  The Captain noticed the silent exchange and smiled to himself. Who wouldn’t want a beauty like her with him after all? Realising he was winning the battle he responded. ‘Of course and we will ensure that your accommodation is of the highest standard.’

  And so, within a week Marcel was in a new office in the Rio Grande Air Base. He managed to get the local commander to allocate several married quarters to him and his staff, maintaining the need for team coherence and secrecy. He was not at all sure the excuse was believed once the commander had met Maria but frankly he didn’t care as long as they could have some privacy together.

  But here he was now on the fifth of April and once again feeling distinctly unhappy. Five days ago everything had changed. Access to the outside world had suddenly been cut off. TV, phone lines, any form of outside communication was restricted. At first, it was explained that there was a major exercise underway and that definitely seemed to tie in with the levels of activity he had seen on the base. Aircraft movements had doubled and there seemed to be a large number of ground troops being deployed around the base. But surely it had gone on too long? Any questions he asked were met with a stony silence and he was becoming more and more frustrated. Their initial work was just about complete. The missiles had been upgraded and they were now setting up the computers to start on a second phase.

  Looking out of the window he thought once again, ‘What the hell was really going on?’

  Chapter 5

  April 6 1982, HMS Prometheus

  With her white wake streaming in an unbroken line behind her, HMS Prometheus punched through the swell, proceeding flat out towards the mid Atlantic base of Ascension Island. Frantic navy and RAF activity around the remote and rarely visited lump of volcanic rock was slowly turning it into a major military base. Sticking straight out of the sea, in the middle of nowhere, it was perfect for the job. It had a long runway which could take even the largest aircraft. Supplying the base would be relatively straightforward. Wideawake base as it was now known was going to be very busy, very soon.

  The ship was doing twenty four knots which was the best she could manage with the throttles wide open on her two steam turbines and the boilers operating at full pressure. Luckily, the sea was relatively calm and so her deck movement at speed was not too dramatic. However, Jon had had the aircraft moved to the front of the flight deck so that its nose was half in the hangar. That way they could leave the rotor blades spread and range the aircraft for flight quite quickly but also get some shelter from the almost continuous salt water spray being thrown up by the ship’s bows. Salt water and helicopters were not the best mix.

  The last twenty four hours had seen several transformations in the ship. Now prepared for active service, all unnecessary furnishings had been removed even down to the covers on chairs. In fact, anything that could possibly float free and clog up a damage control pump. The crew had all shifted into overalls and carried white anti-flash hoods and gloves to be donned at a moment’s notice. The aircrew were now permanently in their flying overalls and as soon as the water temperature dropped below fifteen degrees, they would shift into their ‘goon bags’, which were one piece dry suits. Jon wasn’t looking forward to that as the rubber seals around the neck and wrists were uncomfortable enough during a two hour sortie. Quite what it would be like to wear them all day, every day, was another thing altogether. He also felt a bit like a Wild West cowboy as in the bottom pocket of his overalls he now had a nine millimetre pistol and spare ammunition. Even with all these war time preparations, most of the ship’s company were still having trouble treating the whole thing seriously and that was despite all the actions stations and damage control exercises they had been conducting over the last few days.

  Despite all this, normal ships life continued and it was Jon and Brian’s turn to talk to the two Midshipman. Prometheus, like most ships, carried her complement of Officers Under Training. In this case, two young lads straight out of Dartmouth, who were on board for six months sea experience. As part of their time on board, they had Task Books to complete. This took them to all departments of the ship to learn all the arcane naval arts, ranging from cooking for two hundred people, to how the radars worked. They had spent the morning with the Flight learning about the helicopter and how it was maintained and operated from the ship.

  The two lads, Pete and Spencer, sat in the front of the aircraft while Jon and Brian leant over their shoulders and pointed out various things in the complicated cockpit.

  ‘That’s the Sea Skua missile controller,’ Jon said, pointing to a box in the middle of the cockpit. ‘It’s our main armament although we can also drop torpedoes. We carry up to four at any time and they are sea skimmers like the Exocets on this ship but we have to shine our radar at the target and the missiles fly down the radar beam. They and this aircraft were designed to take out small ships like fast patrol boats and corvettes. Mind you, if this Argentinian thing really takes off, we could be firing them at an aircraft carrier.’

  Seeing a questioning look appear on the face of one of the lads he added, ‘Yes, they have an old carrier called the Twenty Fifth of May, she used to be British. We sold her to them some years ago. She operates old American A4 jets which could be a real problem as they can act as fighters or bombers. I will be giving a full brief on the Argie navy and its capabilities in the wardroom this afternoon, so make sure you’re there.’

  ‘Now, that box on top of the cockpit coaming is our latest toy,’ observed Brian. ‘It’s an electronic surveillance receiver. It’s called Orange Crop and we can use it to listen to other people’s radars. It’s very useful to find and identify enemy ships as well our own when we want to come home.’

  ‘Why the strange name?’ asked one of the lads.

  ‘Good question,’ replied Jon. ‘For some reason, various systems in aircraft are given a colour code and ESM kit is always Orange. So you have Orange Crop, Orange Reaper even Orange Dildo.’

  That got a strange look and a tentative laugh from both young men.

  ‘No hang on, I just made that last one up,’ replied a grinning Jon. ‘But radars get the colour blue and believe it or not, it’s actually true, that when the Sea Harrier came into service it should have had Blue Vixen radar. The aircraft was ready before the radar, so they fitted a large lump of concrete ballast in the nose and called it Blue Circle after the name of the cement company.’

  That got another laugh and Spencer, who was sat in the pilot’s seat, looked around at Jon. ‘Sir, talking of names, how did the aircraft get to be called Eric? Do they all have names?’

  ‘Ah, another good question. You’ll have to ask Chief Jones the Senior Maintenance Rating. The lads named the aircraft before Brian and I had the chance but we quite like it. And yes the flights do all name their aircraft. There was an article in Navy News a while ago. My favourite is the one belonging to HMS Antelope, its called Norman. Apparently, when they first embarked, the Captain wanted to call it Bambi. The Flight Commander was horrified and immediately told the Captain that it already had a name. When asked what it was ‘Norman’ was the first name that came to mind.’

  ‘One final question Sir,’ asked Pete the other Midshipman. ‘I keep hearing Guns calling you WAFUs. What does that mean?’

  Jon and Brian shared a knowing grin. Brian responded first. ‘That, young man, would be telling and as you know as Midshipmen, if you ask a question quite often you get it straight back, so why don’t you find out and let us know! Right, that’s enough for this morning. Off you go and get some lunch.’

  As the two aspiring young officers took their leave Jon and Brian sat down on a bollard on the side of the flight deck and reviewed progress.

  Jon was looking thoughtful. ‘Well, I think we’ve done all we can now. The Chief is going to stay on peacetime servicing as much as possible which makes sense. I think we’re about as ready as we ever will be.’

  Brian looked over flight deck at the wake streaming out behind the ship and the spectacular plume of white water being thrown up at the stern by the two propellers situated just below where they sat. The vibration they caused could be felt right through the soles of their feet but neither even noticed it after all these days of high speed sailing.

  ‘Yup I agree. Oh, by the way, we got a signal this morning. There will be eight more Sea Skuas waiting for us at Ascension, so we should be up to full complement. Also, there will be a Major Thomas Royal Marines waiting for us. Presumably, he will brief us on all the secret squirrel stuff.’

  Jon’s stomach tightened. ‘It’s really happening isn’t it? You know, I joined up to defend this country against the bloody Russians. We’re meant to be friends with the Argentinians. On my last ship we did work up with one of theirs and we became quite friendly. We all got horribly pissed in the Officers Club together one night and now we might be firing Skuas at them for fuck’s sake.’

  ‘Well, as I understand it, their military government is in so much shit it’s about the only way they can divert public opinion away from yet another revolution.’

  ‘That’s no excuse for invading the sovereign territory of another county.’

  ‘Yeah, well tell that to the bloody politicians. The silly buggers said they were going to withdraw Endurance the Ice Patrol ship last year. Her skipper apparently warned them at the time but of course, no one wanted to listen.’

  ‘Oh bugger it, let’s do lunch.’

  The next morning, the ship was within a hundred and fifty miles of Ascension and at first light ‘Eric’ and crew launched for Wideawake airfield to pick up their tame Royal Marine. They flew at the aircraft’s cruising speed of one hundred and twenty knots at two thousand feet in beautiful clear sky over a deep blue sea. Very soon, they started to pick up the peaks of the islands dormant vo
lcanoes. The island was a peculiar brown colour and as they got closer they could see how bleak and rocky it really was. However, there was clearly a lot of activity around the airfield. Several Hercules aircraft were parked up and even two venerable naval Wessex helicopters. They were given landing clearance to a spot near the huts on one side of the runway. Jon explained that they would like fuel if possible. Although there was enough in the tanks to get them back to the ship, Jon believed strongly that one of the greatest lies in the world was ‘the ship’s position is’. On more than one occasion, he had returned to an empty piece of sea where, according to all he had been told, there should have been the welcoming sight of a large piece of grey steel. Naval aviation did not tolerate assumptions and he was not one to take any unnecessary risks. The tower informed them that a fuel bowser would be with them soon and their passenger was waiting for them.

  As they hovered over their landing spot Jon could see the marine standing next to the marshaller with a large bag and metal box by his side. ‘Wow, our tame Royal looks keen. Brian, will you give him a safety brief once I’ve shut down the rotors please?’

  ‘No probs and you can manage the gas I take it?’

  ‘Will do, landing on.’ And he lowered the collective and landed the aircraft with a gentle thump. To their astonishment, their passenger then lowered his head and bag in hand, ran towards the aircraft. Before anyone could stop him, he reached the side of the aircraft and seeing a yellow and black handle on the cabin door gave it tug. The glass window in the cabin door promptly fell out and blew across the hard standing propelled by the down wash of the rotors

  ‘Shit, what’s that clown doing,’ yelled Jon.

  Brian looked over his shoulder and saw what was going on. ‘Hang on,’ he yelled. ‘I’ll sort him out. Just don’t shut down yet.’ So saying, he quickly unstrapped and jumped out of the port cockpit door. He ran around the nose of the aircraft and grabbed the man by the arm, pulling him struggling away from the aircraft. He may have had a rough, tough Royal Marine to deal with but navy rugby had given him the necessary physique.

  When they were clear, Jon signalled to the marshaller and shut the aircraft down. A soon as he could, he unstrapped and ran across the grass and retrieved his cabin door window. With it in hand he strode angrily across to the two men who were clearly having words.

  ‘...... Major in the Royal Marines and you are just Lieutenant, what do you think you’re doing manhandling me like that?’ He was shouting at Brian as Jon came up to them.

  Jon looked at Brian and gave him a conspiratorial grin. Then turning to the irate officer he gave him both barrels.

  ‘You could be Queen of fucking Sheba mate but when you’re in my fucking aircraft, I am in command and I don’t care what bloody rank you are. GOT IT?’

  The marine looked startled, clearly not expecting such a response. Before he could gather himself up for another tirade, Jon got in first and in a calm reasoned voice he explained, ‘Now let’s all calm down. Firstly, you do not board an aircraft without the Captain’s permission and that is me, clear? Secondly, you do not board an aircraft to fly over water without wearing the right safety kit and we have got yours in the aircraft. Thirdly, you do not board an aircraft before you have had a safety brief which by the way includes instructions on not pulling yellow and black handles unless it’s an emergency. Do you understand?’

  The look of embarrassment starting to appear on Major Thomas’s face made Jon stop and think. Realising he was probably going to have to work closely with this guy in the future, he started doing his best to mend a few bridges.

  ‘Right Sir,’ with the emphasis on the Sir. ‘We have to refuel the aircraft and while I am doing that my Observer Lieutenant Pearce will give you a full safety brief and get you fitted up with your kit OK? Oh and I am Lieutenant Jon Hunt.’ So saying he held out his hand.

  The Major now looking quite crestfallen shook Jon’s hand. ‘Major Rupert Thomas,’ he said with a wry grin. ‘Yes, I’m sorry about that. It’s just that there is so much to get done and we may have very little time.’

  Jon nodded and went past them to the fuel bowser now waiting on the other side of the aircraft.

  ‘A full brief Brian,’ he muttered quietly to the Observer through the side of his mouth as he walked past. Brian nodded and grinned evilly as he took the passenger to the aircraft to introduce him to his lifejacket and ‘once only’ orange survival suit. He then proceeded to put seven bells of fear into his passenger as he outlined all the terrible things that could happen to a naval helicopter, especially when over water and all the things that had to be done in the unlikely event they did occur. It was a quiet and chastened passenger who sat in the back of the aircraft on the way to the ship. His journey was probably not enlivened by the arctic blast of air that came in through the gaping cabin window and of course, Brian may have just forgotten to mention that there was a cabin heating system which he could turn on if his passenger wanted it.

  Chapter 6

  April 7 1982, Commander in Chief Fleet HQ, Northwood

  The itch on Commander Dave Hawkin’s arse was progressively getting worse and he desperately needed to scratch it but with so much top brass in the room, he strongly felt it might be inappropriate. Anyway, as the Fleet Missile Officer, he knew he would be called on to contribute fairly soon. Unusually, the meeting was not being held down in the ‘hole’, the massive underground bunker dug deep into the ground beside the modern office buildings. Capable of withstanding a direct nuclear blast, it was also the best place to conduct a highly classified meeting like this one. Unfortunately, this was just one of many such meetings at the moment and with so many outsiders in attendance without clearance to go underground, the above ground headquarters conference centre had been pressed into use. It really didn’t help that the first floor room overlooked the tennis courts. This morning, the wives club were

  having their regular weekly session and several extremely attractive ladies, in short tennis skirts, were inadvertently revealing far too much flesh. Dave had to hide a smile when he saw that even the Admiral’s eyes were straying to the window on occasions.

  Dragging his thoughts back to the meeting, he was just in time for the Admiral to introduce him and give him the floor to conduct his brief. Taking his acetate slides with him, he went to stand next to the overhead projector and looked over at his audience. They were a small group of specially selected experts but all with one purpose. To work out what the hell they were going to do about defeating one of their own weapons systems.

  ‘Right gentlemen,’ he began and put up his first slide. ‘We all know why we are here and what we are facing, so I am going to concentrate only on what we believe we need to do in order to give us some defence. I will cover three areas. The first is not our remit and I will only discuss it briefly. However, you should be aware that we may take measures to make life difficult for the Argies on the ground.’

  That got several startled looks. ‘I don’t intend to go into any more detail on that subject and please do not discuss it outside of these walls. Now, the two other areas we will consider today are missile defence and seduction. The electronic version of seduction that is not the type the wives club are trying to practice outside.’ Everyone smiled.

  For defence, our main thrust is to try to modify the Sea Wolf system which we have on our two new Type 22 frigates and two converted Leander class frigates. This is the only system we have capable of shooting down a sea skimmer in flight. As you may be aware, Sea Wolf is designed for point defence and as such can currently only be used to attack targets coming straight towards its own ship. We think we can change the software so that it can fire at crossing targets, thus we can use the system to protect other ships particularly the carriers. We have several experts from British Aerospace and the scientist from Farnborough who will give us more on this in a moment.’

  ‘Secondly, as I said before, we are going to look at seduction. The Exocet missile radar homing head is extremely clever and if you try to jam it, it simply says ‘thank you very much’ and homes in on the jamming source. Our aviator colleagues and weapons engineers have come up with an idea to install an airborne jammer, currently fitted to the Canberra bomber, to the Lynx or Sea King helicopter and use it to deliberately seduce a weapon in flight. To make it turn away from its target and towards the aircraft.’