Drilling away

I’ve just come on watch.  Sitting at my desk, going through paperwork (it never ends, even at sea).  I hear the ‘click’ of the PA system activating, and hear the following:

D’you hear there, combat officer speaking.  Unknown aircraft have been detected approaching the task group.  Intelligence indicates indicates that enemy forces are operating in the area.  Therefore, assume air threat status yellow.  Weapons stand-to.  On warbags.

 Offices throughout the ship empty as everyone rushes to get their warbags (containing fire-resistant hood and gloves, bandages, and lifejacket), and to prepare weapon systems.  The weapons themselves have already been loaded at the begining of Exercise Talisman Sabre, but the operators enjoying a spare hour on their watch are dumping coffee in the sink as they head to their stations.

I just head to the communications control room, where my jacket and warbags are always waiting for me.  I pick them up, then head back to my office, hearing the normal chatter that comes before a known drill.  “I give it 10 minutes.”  “No, they like the top and bottom of the hour, I’ll say 15.”  “45.”  “30.”

I look at my watch, put my wager on 15.  My apprentice has chosen 25 minutes, my boss 45.  We all know that we’re going to be “attacked”, but the timeline is anyone’s guess.  No matter how long it takes, there’s still time for paperwork.  Right?

Bong bong, bong bong

Maybe not.

Action stations, action stations.  Hostile aircraft incoming

Well, we all knew it was coming.

I log off my workstation, put on my anti-flash hood and gloves, then leave my office, still zipping up my jacket, to join the organized confusion of people rushing to their stations.  A few traffic jams as people take their turns going through doors or line up at the top or bottom of a ladder, but I’m at my station and punching into the ERT network as I hear the “one minute” pipe.  Good timing then; we have six minutes to close up from an unwarned state, but we’ve already been warned so the timings should be tighter, and they are.

Aircraft approaching our unit.  Indication of missile separation.  Incoming missiles – Ship’s company brace for shock.

I turn to hold the handles on one of the radios.  A minute passes, then the boom of a training explosive detonating in the water.

Impact on the starboard quarter.  Ship’s company unbrace.  Rapid survey out.

The survey goes out, and finds a very unlikely combination of damage.  Somehow, all of our weapons were damaged and knocked out – but nothing else was hit.  I still haven’t figured out how one missle took out our foreward and after weapons, but didn’t touch anything at all in the middle.  Magic missile I guess.

However the simulated damage occured, we dealt with it.  Of course, none of it was quick, but it was fairly simple.  In the end, we got the training in (for both the foreward and after damage control teams), and secured the exercise within the hour.