NukeBoatVet for Freedom

JIHAD AT FT. HOOD: Could it happen on patrol?


Cold War Games Emblem
From Cold War Games to Islamic War games




DATELINE: Wednesday, November 4, 2009, off the coast of Cypress in the Mediterranean Sea. 

SITUATION: A group of Israeli Navy elite commandos from Flotilla 13, board a small patrol boat attached to the INS Eilatt ( an Israeli Navy Sa’ar 5-class Corvette launched 2/03 ). The INS Eilatt is engaged in blocking maneuvers to stop an Iranian-based 140-meter container vessel, “Francop”,   from continuing its present course to Latakia, Syria . Israeli elite commandos board the Francop  and seize the vessel and its cargo containing hundreds of tons of rockets and weapons ultimately headed for Lebanon’s Hezbollah guerrillas. It’s the largest seizure of weapons ever commandeered by the Israeli government. The weapons seizure is another undeniable reason to distrust Iran for its continued attempts to build nuclear weapons and inflict radical Islamic Jihad on its enemies, especially Israel.  


0110 ZULU: 1/2 mile west of the Francop aboard the USS Nathanael Greene.

I’m submerged aboard the USS Nathanael Greene SSBN636 (a Lafayette-class,  ballastic-missile nuclear submarine capable of carrying 16 Poseidon ICBM missiles and multiple MK-37 / MK-45 conventional / nuclear torpedos). With my crew of 143, we’re operating silently beneath the Mediterranean Sea on strategic patrol #39; peacekeeping the American way; undetected and combat-ready for war at anytime. There are only a handful of people in world that know our exact location. Complete secrecy is mandatory in order to fulfill our mission.

Communication with the outside world is virtually non-existant for the entire time the  boat is submerged, usually three months. A few times a day we receive incoming transmissions from COMSUBLANT. Listening is always paramount to talking in the realm of stealth.  The enemy can’t find what it can’t see or hear. That gives us total control of the seas and makes it possible for deterring the enemy from attacking The Homeland. Carrying more firepower than all the bombs dropped, in all the world’s wars, is a force not to confront.  

Perhaps we’re the ultimate mercenaries. Warriors who are trained to do the unthinkable if given orders directly from the President; to launch nuclear weapons on predetermined targets thousands of miles from America. God be with us. Game over.

Locked up for 105 days beneath the seas is similar to being locked up like an astronaut in space. The difference is our space is just as deep and black, but it’s water. To survive, we manufacture our own air and water continuously and can remain alive until the food runs out … or water rushes in. We eat, sleep, qualify, train, drill, clean and exist as an indefensible team. All 143 of us work in three duty sections. Six hours on – 12 hours off. A submariner’s day is a perpetual 18-hour cycle of drills, intermittent sleep, qualifying, training and a occassional movie or card game. Without sunlight as our body’s time-bearer, the only way to know what “time” it really is comes from the smell of food on the mess-deck, i.e., what’s for chow … breakfast, lunch, dinner or mid-rats?  Time is irrelevant. It’s sunny and noon on the surface, but it’s 0100 ZULU in the morning inside the Belly of the Beast.

At sea we are brothers in arms. One miscalculation and we all could die. Know your shit. Know your buddies shit too.  These secret years of duty will build life-long bonds of honor, trust, loyalty, commitment and courage.  What happens on patrol – stays on patrol – till death do us part. The enemy has many faces in many places. Our trust goes no further than this crew. Our Dolphins are our symbol of pride. They represent our commitment to Excellence, Country and Constitution. We all come from the same cloth.  “You’re either qualified in submarines – or your not”.

It’s November 4th, 2009. Day 83  on a 105-day Shellback patrol out of Norfolk, VA.. I just crashed  in my rack down in lower-level berthing after being slept-out for 26 hours from a heavy oxygen bleed in the torpedo room. Too much O2 in the atmosphere makes  a “bubblehead” hyper – or am I just trashed from staying up for 26 hours after endless watches and drills? It doesn’t matter, I’m spent. The drone of  a berthing compartment fan at the base of my feet finally lulls me  into unconsciousness.

0117 ZULU:

Steps away from my rack, up on the CON, they’re drilling holes in the tepid waters of the Med,  67 nautical miles southeast of Nicosia, Cypress. From alongside the BCP (ballast control panel) the Diving Officer turns to the  Chief of the Watch and commands …  “Prepare to come to periscope depth and commence hovering. All-ahead 1/3, make your depth 75 feet, 5 degree up bubble. Chief … advise planes to keep the damn screw in the water!”.

The C.O.W. recants, “Aye, Aye Sir! …  Planesman, prepare the boat to come to periscope depth. All ahead 1/3, make your depth 75 feet, 5 degree up bubble.  I want ZERO cavitation, do you understand me gentlemen?”

The inboard planesmen  systematically responds, ” Aye, Aye, Chief, all ahead 1/3, make my depth 75 feet, 5 degree up bubble … ZERO cavitation!  

The outboard planesman retorts, “We’ll bring her up as quiet as a prayer in Sunday school, Chief….Now passing 250 feet……. now passing 200 feet… now passing 150 feet…..”.   

From the CON, the D.O. carefully analyzes the boat’s speed, depth and sea conditions at the surface. “C.O.W. ….all stop, 0 degree bubble, prepare to hover at 75 feet”

“Planes! … all stop, 0 degree bubble, prepare to hover at 75 feet”, recalls the C.O.W.

The C.O.W leans forward and looks at the BCP indications, planes indications and the expressions his fellow shipmates have on the CON. Completely satisfied he turns to the D.O. and says “Sir, we’ve commenced hovering”.

o134 ZULU:

As the Belly of the Beast ends her angled and gradual ascent to the surface, it’s now positioned to extend masts and periscope above the water’s surface. All eyes continue to stare intently at the vast array of rotating  digital and analogue monitors inside the Control Room. The last thing anyone on the CON wants now is to broach and bring 425 feet of men, missiles and might searing above the water line. Besides being a submariner’s carnal sin, broaching is a dead give away to enemy satellites and rouge ships (not to mention an ass-chewing from hell from the Old Man if he hears water crashing on the sail above the CON).

“Chief of the watch?”, questions the D.O.

“Yes Sir”, resonates the C.O.W..

“Rig for red, it’s time to take a peek at our targets” said the D.O. 

As the mantra of maneuvering commands continues for another 10 minutes, the world’s most deadly U.S. Navy weapon steers stealthy on-course ready to watch the events unfolding on the dark surface just a 1/2 nautical miles away.

0139 ZULU:

“Up scope!” shouts the D.O. as he grabs the round hydraulic ring above his head that circles the periscope housing. Twisting  it clockwise, the D.O. waits as the massive cylinder rises quietly upward until it stops with a faint “clunk”.  The interior of the CON draws totally silent. The opaque red blur of  florescent  lighting illuminates on everyone’s face.  The mood is serious. There’s no room for error. Only our periscope can break the water’s surface.

The quartermaster gazes down at his nav table and routinely grabs a cigarette. Opening his lighter he intently advises everyone on the CON, “White light, watch your eyes”.

All hands gaze at the D.O. as he immediately shifts his ball cap backwards and thrust his face into the scope lenses. In a swift fashion, he walks around the periscope stand in a 360 degree turn, then back again, until he locks on his target. “I have one target confirmed bearing 278 degrees… C.O.W… get the Captain immediately”.

“Aye, Aye, Sir!” The C.O.W. motions to passing off-duty sonarman telling him to get the Captain up. The sonarman bolts from his chair down the narrow passageway just forward of the CON and knocks on the Captains stateroom door.  Seconds later, the Captain open his door, looks at the C.O.W. and instinctively knows his presence is required on the CON post-haste. They both hustle back into the Control Room.

0143 ZULU:

Clad only in his poopy suit and bare feet (no time to look the part when awakened from a  3-hour slumber), Commander Strong  jumps on the CON platform to join the D.O..  Accepting command of the boat, he grabs the periscope and asks, “Whats our situation Mr. Harper?”

“Sir, sonar verified two unidentified contacts bearing 278 degrees, approximately 3000 yards off our starboard. They don’t have an exact signature on both yet but I can clearly see one vessel. Sir, it’s a 140-meter container ship. The other vessel may be behind her and obstructed from my view. I was able to magnify on the container vessel and located her draft marks. She’s drawing 5 – 7 feet – most likely fully latent. I have her in the cross hairs now Sir … I’d appreciate your input and authentication”,  replied the D.O.”.

Like a snake slithering up a tree, Captain O’Malley swirled around the periscope stand, making another 360 degree sweep of the Med’s surface, then back again re-setting the target in his cross-hairs.

” I concur Mr. Harper, she bears the name “Francop”. Based on the 2300 satellite sync , intel reported her on today’s list of ship movements. I believe she’s operated by United Feeder Services, a Cyprus-based shipping company … Mr. Harper, ask Radio to confirm her manifest and origin from the latest intel. Advise me of her port schedule ASAP. I’ll bet she’s Iranian and headed  into Syria or Lebanon. Based on her present course, she may have just loaded in Damietta, Egyp. Notify COMSUBLANT  immediately of  our course and intent to track the vessel until 0400 ZULU. I want to be informed ASAP if there are ANY changes in the targets course OR of any submarine contacts attempting  to escort  the target… Oh, one other thing, get the XO and WEPS to my quarters pronto”.

Captain O’Malley’s eyes continued their glued position into the scope. “Mr. Harper,  wait a minute. I have a visual on the second target now. It appears to be an Israeli flagged Naval vessel … yes… it’s a Sa’ar 5-class Corvette and she’s maneuvering across the targets bow. I’d bet the Israeli’s are attempting to stop the vessel and board. This doesn’t look good. Mr. Harper – get the XO and WEPS in my quarters NOW!” 

“Eye, Eye Captain” barked the D.O.  … ” C.O.W, over the 1MC request the Executive Office and Weapons Officer to proceed to the Captains quarters on the double”.

0147 ZULU:

Captain O’Malley was sitting at his desk in his stateroom pouring over encrypted data trying to decipher his options on whether to intercede. A few moments after jotting down some notes, there’s a knock on his door. “Enter” he replied.

“Captain…”, replied the XO, “WEPS and I are here reporting as requested Sir”.

“Sit down Gentlemen. I have some disturbing  news to report” said Capt. O’Malley sternly.       

At that moment, Weapons Officer, LT. CDR. Nidal Malik Hussein, pulled a .45 cal. semi-automatic pistol from inside his shirt. In one strong motion he used the butt of the pistol and snapped the gun across the XO’s forehead, sending him crashing to the deck unconscious. Before Captain O’Malley could get up from his chair, Hussein stepped over the XO and grabbed  Capt. O’Malley from behind – Hussein’s left arm choked around the Captain’s neck while his right arm pointing  the massive .45 cal. pistol to the Captains right temple.

Sir, I’m afraid you ‘ll have to accompany me to the CON , barked  Hussein. “I have instructions to sink the INS Eilatt ! That cargo aboard the Francop must be delivered to Tripoli, Lebanon.”

“You have instructions from WHO to do WHAT!!” screamed Capt. O’Malley.

There’s NO time for conversation Captain”, yelled Hussein. “You will bring the Greene within torpedo range of the INS Eilatt before Israeli Commando’s board the vessel. You will  also instruct the crew to sink the Eillatt or you will die. The payload on the Eillatt is too precious to be hijacked by the Infidels in Israel. Do you understand me Captain O’Malley. We will not leave this stateroom alive until the Eillatt is sunk?”

“What payload, Hussein, and what the hell are you talking about Infidels for?” said the Captain.

“My true mission is with Allah”, chanted Hussein. “My religion teaches me I must obey His will. Allahu Akbar! Allahu Aakbar!! Allahu Aakbar!!  Do you see this scar in my palm, O’Malley? It’s where I shared my blood with my brothers when I converted to Islam 10 years ago in Detroit. I’m a proud Muslim!  I’ve waited patiently for 10 years for this moment. You will not deprive me of this glory. My Hezbollah brothers have also waited for this moment. The payload is precious because it comes from Tehran. It’s taken 10 years of development and billions of dollars of investment for the Hezbollah movement to finally have a deployable multiple re-entry vehicle for Tehran’s new ICBM.  You see O’Malley, Hezbollah is soon to be the new world’s superpower! Israel will soon be blown glass!! The Francop will port in Trilopi tonight or we will all die. So what will it be Captain? … The Eillatt or your life?”



The massacre at Fort Hood this week by Major Nidal Malik  Hasan has different motives depending on who you ask. Some in the media are spinning this tragedy such that Hasan was suffering  from “vicarious tramatization”. This disorder involves a belief that Hasan experienced trauma vicariously thru his patients own combat stories. Whatever. Other eye witnesses claim Hasan was chanting  “Allah Wakbar!” moments before he opened fire on his fellow soldiers. The outcome remains the same. No matter what the motive, 13 innocent were shot dead and more than 30 wounded. The innocence of being an Infidel?

Once again, Americans are seeing a pattern of violence surrounding a common motif; mass killings worldwide in association with a murderer(s) who publically avow a belief system tied to radical Islamic practices. This is not to say that any one religion has not killed others in the name of “GOD”, but “Allah” sure has a way of turning innocence into death here in America since 911.

If the Army “knew” 50% of what’s being reported after the massacre about  Hasan’s unstable psyche, there’s huge issues of incompetence (or perhaps political correctness “gone amuck”). In America 2009, in most work environments there is reluctance to report unusual personal behavior for fear of retribution, especially if that behavior is linked to Islamic culture. Policies must change. Death is not an option.

If we have our heads screwed on tight, this massacre should bring a new precedent to the military’s policies on “profiling” individuals. If this could happen at Fort Hood in the midst of many thousands of innocent Army personnel, it could also happen within the confines of a nuclear submarine. Never say never. The Navy must not continue to fall prey to the civilian workforce attitudes of political correctness. It must adopt immediate profiling techniques to assure the Ft. Hood does not occur again, especially aboard the world’s most sophisticated and deadly weapon.



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