Free Kursk Down by Clyde Burleson

rescue mission is an extremely complex operation. Every precaution must be taken to keep from endangering the lives of the rescuers as well as the trapped personnel.
    So the admiral’s first decision concerned the unleashing of a full-fledged search-and-rescue mission. While any delay might result in the unnecessary loss of lives, ordering immediate action also presented problems.
    Every rescue effort is an expensive undertaking. To initiate such an action without being certain about conditions on board the
Kursk
could be wasteful. Standard operating procedures also supported a delay. The
Kursk
had a strict reporting schedule. If the submarine did not contact Fleet HQ at the specified time, still some hours away, then a problem had to be assumed. There also might be the possibility of receiving an SOS from the sub. She was equipped with an automatic emergency deployment buoy with a built-in identifier. A signal for help would immediately trigger a rescue mission.
    The Navy could wait, a short while, for the
Kursk
to call at her scheduled reporting time or send an SOS. The submarine might be only slightly damaged. Or, a weak possibility, she might simply be maintaining radio silence.
    Moreover, security presented an obstacle to dispatching an immediate rescue effort. As soon as the first Russian ship began working a search pattern, U.S. eyes and NATO ears would be alerted. Both the Russian press and foreign observers would suspect the Northern Fleet had an emergency.
    Time was also needed for another purpose. Flag rank officers are obligated to keep political realities in mind before acting. Key military and governmental figures had to be notified and brought into the situation. This was Russia, and it was imperative officials agree on a course of action. If the
Kursk
was down, the need to blame someone would be intense. If lives were lost as well, finding fault would become a passion. A disaster of this magnitude could shake the military and political foundations of the nation.
    In his role as one of the highest ranking officers in the Russian Navy, Admiral Popov was dealing with many serious considerations. At the same time, he had to remember that any delay in a rescue effort would result in a massive morale problem with submariners throughout his command. Other factors undoubtedly also influenced the final decision. In spite of all that was known and suspected, no rescue effort was initiated at that point in the drama.
    Admiral Popov’s departure from the
Peter the Great
shortly after the explosion was in all probability to reach a secure communications link with the commander in chief of the Russian Navy, Admiral Vladimir Kuroyedov. Popov’s report was one that needed to be made without any chance of eavesdroppers. And there were plenty of potential listeners, ranging from NATO, the U.S., the news media, and intelligence units of other Russian military services.
    Until an official position could be established, it was imperative that no one outside a select few have even an inkling anything was wrong. The potential for damaging the Navy, personal careers, and worldwide Russian prestige was horrendous.
    Even senior naval officers were not immune from the need to avoid admission of error. The slightest comment that could be taken as accepting the smallest responsibility for an accident could turn the whole disaster into that person’s fault.
    And in today’s Russia, there is a new wild card. Since the fall of the Soviet Union, the news media, once so tightly caged, is now loose in the streets. A story with the dramatic potential of a Navy miscue and an undersea rescue would cause the newshounds to salivate. One leak of a story this spectacular, and there would be no stopping them.
    All this made one point clear. Eventually, someone, something, or some organization was going to be held accountable for this tragedy. To avoid being blamed, a great many officials were going to have to avoid the truth through the use of