Captain Wilma Harris was your typical officer in the USN. A stickler for discipline, she had once marooned an errant seaman for pilfering. After forty-eight hours of course, he was picked up. A much wiser man.

Tall and forty-nine, she enjoyed a solitary single life without too many worries.

“Well there she is mam,” the sub lieutenant said. The USS Virginia. The latest ‘H’ class that we have.”

As they approached the black hulk of the sub, she gazed around at
Pearl Harbour with satisfaction.

“What’s her compliment?”

“Seventy mam. All blokes I’m afraid.”

“We shall have to do something about that.”

As she stepped upon the gangplank, seamen piped her aboard.

“Nice to have you mam. Second officer Vanderhofen.”

“Nice to be aboard.”

She led the way to the conning tower, as the plank was pulled inside and pressed the com.

“Take her to sea.”

The submarine slowly made her way out and into the open Pacific Ocean.

“What’s the mission mam?” Vanderhofen asked casually.

“Maritime patrol and deterrence. A pretty tough job out here.”

“I understand that our operational area has been increased.”

The captain nodded.

“It extends from the west coast of Africa to Pearl. Enough water to keep us quite happy.”

He smiled as the bow ploughed through the slightly choppy sea. She gazed around at the dark ocean and punched the com.

“Prepare to dive.”

She clambered down the ladder and into the command area as Vanderhofen sealed the hatch.

“Bow planes to twenty per cent.”

“Aye mam.”

As the planes automatically adjusted, the bow went under, quickly followed by the conning tower.

“Periscope depth mam.”

She smiled and turning to her second officer said, “Let’s see just
how deep we can go eh?”

“Choose your depth mam.”

“Twenty-five k.”

The officer gave the command and the great sub dived into the cold and hostile depths.

“Remember to level off,” she ordered before winking at Vanderhofen.

“Now sir, I need the grand tour. Shall we start at the bow?”

“Of course. After you mam.”

As they entered the torpedo room, she gazed at the long metallic tubes with some distaste.

“We carry conventional and nuclear warheads mam. We have four tubes as you can see.”

“I’ve never fired one before and I hope we never have to.”

"Shall we go aft mam?”

After wandering back through the command area, they entered the food hall and the medical area before reaching the missile room.

Her blood ran cold as she gazed at the innocent launch tubes.

“Eight birds I see.”

“Yes mam. Each with four one megaton warheads.”

“Thirty-two in all,” she muttered.

“They would make one hell of a bang mam.”

“Let’s look at the reactor room,” she suggested.

When they entered, the engineers stood at attention.

“At ease. Any problems so far?”

“No mam. I would be terribly surprised if we had. She’s purring quite nicely. A hell of a change from the old diesel design.”

“What do I call you?”

“Murray mam.”

“A Scotsman?”

“My family hailed from Inverness actually. I’m just one in a long line of engineers.”

She nodded and smiled.

“We had better return to the com Vanderhofen. The crew might think that we have eloped.”

“Chance would be a fine thing.”

Returning to the command area an officer said, “Twenty-five k mam.”

“What’s our crush depth?”

“Twenty-eight k mam.”

“That is a comfort then. Raise bow planes by ten percent and bring us to periscope depth.”

The hull rose quite gently as the ship gained height rapidly. As the depth was reached, she gazed into the viewer.

“Seems quiet out there. No ships anywhere.”

“Just the way we like it mam,” the second in command replied.

“Take us down to a hundred feet and we will test the sonar.”

They sank once more and the operator watched his scope intently.

“Anything?” she asked.

“Only marine life mam. Nothing to report as yet.”

“Vanderhofen, come with me.”

She led him into her quarters and took a key from her top pocket. After opening the safe, she handed him a small key upon a ribbon.

“Put it around your neck eh?”

She then pulled out an envelope and ripped it open.

“Orders mam?”

“Certainly are.”

She read the paper and sighed.

“We are to head for the Marshall Islands at best speed.”

“That would be thirty knots mam.”

“Let’s do it then. The grindstone begins here.”

The oil tanker Naguma was outward bound from Tokyo Bay, laden with vital supplies for the far-flung American base. As it ploughed through the dark ocean, its captain was quite unconcerned.

“How’s the weather forecast?”

His bridge officer checked the scope carefully.

“A small storm to the north sir but we won’t even touch that.”

“That’s nice to hear. Some of these cyclones can be quite nasty.”

“I’m sure that we won’t meet one sir.”

“I hope not. This tub could break its back if we did.”

As they steamed on, a dark shape closely followed.

“It’s a tanker sir. Japanese by the looks of it.”

The North Korean captain smiled.

“Our great leader should be proud that his latest sub managed to penetrate this far.”

“Shall we engage sir?”

The captain thought this over carefully.

“The western oil embargo is certainly hurting number two and I’m sure the Japanese can afford to lose at least one. It’s imperative though, that it looks like an accident.”

The officer nodded.

“Ten degrees to port. Open tube one.”

As the attack sub took up position, the captain checked the periscope again.

“He’s cutting across our path. Fire one.”

The whoosh was clearly heard as the torpedo left the ship. As it streaked toward the unsuspecting tanker, the seconds ticked away.

On the bridge, the captain was just sipping his small cup of tea as the warhead detonated amidships. The huge ball of orange flame shot skyward as the great ship heaved.

“What the hell!”

He turned and saw explosions ripping the deck apart as the holds went off like bombs.

“Abandon ship!”

Before the survivors could move however, the ship was torn asunder by the blasts as the very ocean caught light.
...
Aboard the Vancouver, everything seemed peaceful until the sonar operator suddenly pulled his headphones off.

“That was ruddy close!”

“What is it sailor?” the captain asked.

“Sounded like an explosion to me mam. Hold on I’ll check.”

He studied the scope and listened intently.

“I can hear bulkheads going mam. Whatever it is, the ship is pretty large.”

Captain Harris glanced at Vanderhofen.

“Periscope depth now!”

“Aye mam.”

As she peered into the viewer, a truly horrible scene came into sight. The tanker was gone and only a sea of fire remained.

“It must have been an oil tanker. Some kind of accident perhaps.”

She stepped away as Vanderhofen asked, “Any survivors?”

“None.”

“This can’t be right,” the sonar operator said.

“What can you hear?”

“Faint diesel engines mam. Approximately one mile north.”

“Depth?” Vanderhofen asked.

“One hundred feet sir.”

“What countries still run diesel subs?” she asked.

Her second in command mulled it over.

“Only the South Africans and North Korea mam.”

“Match their heading and depth.”

“Aye mam.”

The sub changed course and followed the curious echo.

“Ping her.”

The second in command was rather puzzled by the order.

“Won’t that alert them?”

“I want to check they are not the South African’s sir.”

As the ping test was conducted, the sonar operator listened carefully.

“They are not replying mam.”

“Take us to one fifty.”

As the sub went deeper, the sonar operator suddenly yelled.

“They are changing course too hard about.”

“They can’t be stupid enough to attack us surely?” Vanderhofen asked as she contemplated the next move.

“They are opening tubes mam!” sonar reported.

“Dive to two hundred and lock bulkheads. Battle stations!”

As the crew responded to the klaxon, each watertight compartment was manually sealed off.

“We have two fish hot and running,” sonar reported.

“Hard a port and bow planes to fifty.”

The sub dived in desperation as the lethal torpedoes headed their way. At the last second, the stern screws cleared and everyone heard the whoosh of the near miss.

“Two can play at that game,” Captain Harris hissed. “Bring us about and go to one ten.”

The sub swung and headed upwards, finally levelling off ten feet lower than the enemy.

“What’s the range?” Vanderhofen asked.

“Two hundred yards sir.”

“We have them captain.”

“Raise to one hundred, and arm tubes one through four.”

Within the torpedo room, the crew slid the weapons into place and screwed the hatch tight.

“Tubes armed mam.”

As she gazed around the control room, the order was given.
The four torpedoes streaked out and headed for their target.

“Crash dive!”

The sub’s hull swung down as they tried to escape the blast and pressure wave. There was a loud roar and sonar reported, “Target breaking up mam.”

Seconds later the ship rolled to port before stabilisers corrected her.

“Surface now,” she demanded.

As the interior lights turned red to protect their eyes, the ship rose rapidly until the bow broke surface. Moments later the proud captain stood upon the conning tower.

“There won’t be survivors mam,” her second in command said.

“I’m just taking a look.”

About two miles off to landward, the burning ocean could still be seen as she spotted debris surfacing from the smashed submarine.

“Why the hell did they do it?” she asked. “Has the so-called great leader lost a bolt or two?”

“We have to report this mam. Korean command needs to know.”

“That could start a ruddy war number two. I’ll note this in my log and inform Pearl later.”

“You think that this was simply a one off then?”

She nodded calmly.