The USS Virginia moved through the Java Sea on her way to the Lingga Islands. Her transit would take her through the Karimata Strait to a spot where the equator was crossed by the meridian marking 106 degrees east longitude, a distance of approximately 1,000 nautical miles from Parepare. Once parallel to the Lingga Islands, she’d turn to a westerly heading and travel 165 miles to Pulau Rempeng, an island marking the southern end of the Strait of Malacca.
She’d encounter a heavy volume of merchant shipping traffic from here on, as she made her way into the Strait. Her skipper’s orders from CINCPAC directed him to move in total secrecy. The Joint Naval Patrol wasn’t informed of the mission. His sub would be subject to overflights by P-3 Orion, maritime patrol aircraft and the active search sonars of “friendly” warships on patrol. Fortunately, the surface ships and patrol planes were looking for small, fast surface targets. Sonar conditions weren’t good because of the shallow water and combined wake noises from the merchant shipping traffic. Even so, Bradstreet had to maneuver carefully so as not to be detected.
Taking all the factors into consideration, the Virginia’s skipper worked up a plan with his XO and Navigator, and ran it past Ron DeFalco for his comments. The senior submariner commander looked it over, smiled and said, “Wayne, this is like our diesel powered subs glory days near the end of World War II. Our fleet boats shadowed Japanese tankers to get into harbors where they could cause maximum damage. It was a gutsy move then, and still is now. I like it. Let’s give it a whirl!”
Wayne’s plan was simple, the sub would wait for a very large merchant ship to pass on a northerly heading into the Strait. He move up close, running at a depth of 150 feet and hug her stern. It would be a tough job for the helmsman, and the men on the diving planes and engine order telegraph, they’d have to stay alert. It was standard practice for most large merchant ships to give each other enough room to make the voyage through the narrow waters in safety. Bradstreet was hoping “his” merchant ship would give and get the same treatment. The Virginia used her passive sonar arrays to determine how fast the nearby surface traffic was moving.
Using his sub’s capability to operate in shallow water, Bradstreet moved through the narrow gap between Pulau Rempeng and it’s closest western neighbor island. He took up a position opposite the Singapore Strait. There, the Virginia lay in wait. The sonar men judged the speed and size of each passing north bound tanker using passive sonar.
At 2137 on December 17th, the Virginia moved northwest to follow a large tanker moving around the western end of Singapore headed into the Strait. She was a Japanese VLCC, the YOKOHAMA STAR, running in ballast and traveling back to the Persian Gulf. Bradstreet sounded the General Alarm. The tracking team, normally used for making underwater torpedo attacks, manned the plot. The men standing around the plot would help guide the Virginia to within 100 yards of the tanker’s stern. There, she’d sit like a bird dog following a quail’s scent while making her transit of the Strait. The job would be nerve wracking and dangerous but had to be done. The tanker should have plenty of room around her, her tremendous bow wave reached out for miles on both sides, as she traveled at sixteen knots.
After reaching the desired location behind the tanker, the Captain relaxed General Quarters and set a steaming watch modified to allow constant tracking of the VLCC directly ahead. Bud Greenberg, the Weapons Officer, was the sub’s OOD and Bradstreet’s best ship handler. He drew an elongated, narrow box over the moving plot with a red grease pencil. His order to the men manning the plot was simple, “Just keep us inside the box. We’ll be fine. The wake astern of the tanker is smooth, so it isn’t a factor.”
Then, he spoke to the helmsman, “If we begin to overtake too rapidly, we’ll use 10 degrees right rudder turning to starboard. A port turn would put us in front of oncoming ship traffic.”
At the diving controls was one of Greenburg’s most experienced men, First Class Torpedo man, Jack O’Neill. “O’Neill, don’t let us broach. You’ve got to keep her nose at least seventy feet five below the tanker’s props or we’ll be chopped liver. The old man would make us pay for a new chin sonar out of our pensions. That’s if we ever got out of Portsmouth Naval Prison.”
The burly man smiled and said over his shoulder, while keeping his eyes fixed on the sub’s keel depth, “Sir, I’m due to get married when we’re back. I promise, I’ll be very careful.”
