BILLING IN PROGRESS [Sweden]: Operation Vaesite II

[Connor]

Operation Vaesite II Swedish Armed Forces Department of Defence

---

Official Operation Order​

---

Swedish Department of Defence
Swedish Armed Forces Headquarters, Stockholm
Operation Order
April 2006
TOP SECRET​

Situation Report
Antarctica is one of Sweden's most contested territories gives its international scientific interest, position of strategic significance and tense political history. This operation aims to reaffirm and maintain Sweden's enduring presence on the continent and its surrounding sub-Antarctic overseas territories. The Swedish Armed Forces already maintain an extensive operation footprint across these regions and this deployment will contribute to an ongoing assessment of the most effective and efficient methods to secure Swedish interests in the area. This tour constitutes the second phase of the Operation Vaesite series, building on lessons learned from the initial deployment and further enhancing regional posture.

Belligerents
Kingdom of Sweden v.

---

Objectives
OVII/1/P/06 - IN PROGRESS - Primary maintenance tasks, pre-deployment ammunition provision and supply of essential services/assets.
OVII/1/PR1/06 - IN PROGRESS - Initial Transit WP1: Heard Island Naval Base.
OVII/2/PR1/06 - PENDING - Initial Transit WP2: Marion Island Air Base.
OVII/1/PR2/06 - PENDING - Sub-Antarctic Patrol WP3: Prince Edward Islands.
OVII/2/PR2/06 - PENDING - Sub-Antarctic Patrol WP4: Crozet Islands.
OVII/3/PR2/06 - PENDING - Sub-Antarctic Patrol WP5: Kerguelen Islands.
OVII/1/PR3/06 - PENDING - Antarctic Coast Patrol WP6: Casey Station TPOL Station.
OVII/2/PR3/06 - PENDING - Antarctic Coast Patrol WP7: Eastern Antarctic Sector.
OVII/2/P/06 - PENDING - Strategic operational continuance review.

Campaign Register
Operation Vaesite (2000)

---

Live Deployment

South African and Antarctic Command Organisation (SOUTHCOM)
└─ Swedish Royal Navy
│--└─ 1st Antarctic Defence Flotilla
│──--└─ Svalbard-class Patrol Vessel
│──--└─ ├─ HSwMS Mashai (OP02)
│──--└─ │─├─ [50x] Active Personnel
│──--└─ │─├─ [2x] RHIB
│──--└─ │─└─ [2x] NHIndustries NH90 NFH
│──--└─ ├─ HSwMS Mohlesi (OP03)
│──--└─ │─├─ [50x] Active Personnel
│──--└─ │─├─ [2x] RHIB
│──--└─ │─└─ [2x] NHIndustries NH90 NFH
│──--└─ └─ HSwMS Mafadi (OP04)
│──--└─│ ─├─ [50x] Active Personnel
│──--└─│ ─├─ [2x] RHIB
│──--└─│ ─└─ [2x] NHIndustries NH90 NFH

---

Copyright © Swedish Armed Forces, Kingdom of Sweden
All information is subject to the Swedish Document Classification and Security Act 1995​

 

[Connor]

[CLASSIFICATION: TOP SECRET]
[LOCATION: HEARD ISLAND NAVAL BASE, HEARD ISLAND]
[TIME: 03H45M]
[OPERATION VAESITE II: PHASE ONE]

The icy winds of the Southern Ocean whipped across Heard Island as the first waves of Swedish personnel began the necessary preparations for deployment. The foggy cliffs of Heard Island loomed as the morning sun struggled through the clouds and on the deck of HSwMS Mashai, sailors scurried between rails, verifying mooring lines, checking the readiness of RHIBs and performing final system diagnostics on the NHIndustries NH90 NFH. Engineers would extensively verify engines, radios and survival kits whilst others prepared systems and sensors for the deployment whilst in the hangar bay they would inspect rotors, top off fuel tanks and test avionics. Below decks communications officers monitored SATCOM links with Stockholm, cross-referencing Antarctic weather reports from Casey Station and tracking ice movements near Marion Island. Intelligence analysts compiled maritime traffic reports, highlighting foreign vessels or commercial shipping in proximity to Swedish overseas territory.

This mission was as much about presence as it was about patrol. Every observation made, every waypoint visited, reinforced sovereignty over the territories. Team were briefed to remain alert, follow protocols and anticipate the environment which has already taken the lives of Swedish sailors in the past.

The crew responded with practiced efficiency. As engineers conducted their final propulsion checks, monitoring fuel flow and engine temperatures. Deckhands secured cargo containers, ensuring ammunition, provisions and scientific equipment was fasted against the rolling deck. Officer reviewed the flight schedules for the helicopters, coordinating aerial reconnaissance runs that would accompany the first sub-Antarctic patrol. By mid-morning the teams practices rapid deployment drills in the choppy bay, simulating boarding operations and emergency extractions. In the galley, cooks prepared high-calorie rations to sustain crews through the cold, energy-draining missions ahead. Medical personnel ran through emergency drills, checking supplies and briefing teams on cold-weather injuries, signs of hypothermia and seasickness recovery methods.

As the tide shifted, the ship would cast off from Heard Island. The deck crew adjusted lined under the watchful eyes of their officers. The performance of the vessel would be constantly monitored by engineers as it accelerated into open water, maintaining oversight on any anomalies throughout. It was without doubt one of the most torturous seas on the planet and the bridge team were not oblivious to this. They continued to plot their course for Marion Island taking into account for currents, drifting ice and unpredictable weather.

HSwMS Mohlesi and Mafadi would remain in port, their crews mirror the activity of Mashai.

By nightfall, Mashai was a dark silhouette against the stormy horizon. Crews would rotate constantly through their watches, logging environmental data, monitoring ship systems and preparing for the challenges of the Southern Ocean.

 

[Connor]

[CLASSIFICATION: TOP SECRET]
[LOCATION: SOUTHERN OCEAN]
[TIME: 21H10M]
[OPERATION VAESITE II: PHASE ONE]

The South Ocean revealed an ultimate cruelty as soon as HSwMS Mashai cleared the protection of Heard Island. The first night being pulled through the violent waves were marked by heavy swells, the deck pitching violently and white spray breaking across the bow of the ship. Inside, the ship creeked and suddered, the reinforced hull straining against the endless collision of waves. That aside, it's what the ship was built for and the crew remained undeterred. For many, this was the familiar language of Antarctic patrol and not the first time they had experienced the total isolation. However, whilst parts of the ships allowed for the eery music of the ocean to fill its decks, the bridge was a hive of activity. Red lights cast a dim and tactical glow over navigation tables as charts were regularly updated. The team would regularly monitor drifting ice packs from radar and make course adjustments as required. As part of this lookouts stood on the bridge wings, wrapped in thermal gear, eyes straining for the sign of any risk to the integrity of the ship.


Whilst the patrol was likely to be one of the longest the Swedish Navy had ever endured, the transit towards Marion Island was not wasted. The command staff had scheduled the crossing as a period of hard training, an opportunity to sharpen skills under the most unforgiving conditions the Southern Ocean could provide. Within hours of clearing Heard Island the crew were called to stations for the first of many exercises. Alarms would echo across the ship as the watch officers initiated a man-overboard drill in the heaving seas. The alarm split the monotonous hum of the engines, reverberating across the steel corridors. A heartbeat later the intercom barked with a firm voice.

"MAN OVERBOARD, MAN OVERBOARD, MAN OVERBOARD. PORT SIDE!"

Bone chilling. The announcement rolled through the compartments, the words enough to send an instinctive jolt through every sailor onboard. A man overboard in these conditions was almost certain death. The drill was well underway. On the bridge, the Office of the Watch's voice followed almost immediately afterwards.

All stations, this is the Officer of the Watch. Man overboard drill, man overboard drill. Deploy recovery teams."

The whole ship dived into action. Deckhands dashed to recovery stations with the metal clips on their harnesses clattering as they clipped into safety lines. The lifebuoy marker with smoke was thrown from the port-side deck, tumbling into the sea where its flare hissed and burned bright orange, a stark beacon against the dark ocean it laid within. Lookouts started bearing to the bridge, their gloves hands pointing into the freezing cold air. In the hangar bay, one of the NHIndustries NH90 NFH would start to spin its rotos, slowing getting faster and faster as the crew began their checklists. Today however, the RHIBs would be taking the lime light, the helicopter would remain on standby. The coxswain and his team sprinted across the slick desk to the waiting rigid-hulled inflatable and swinging the crane away from the ship. The seawater would hammer against the brow as the vessel dipped into the ocean and broke free from its lines.

Within seconds of the crew being away, the small craft was slamming across the ocean, the spray rising high as they roared towards the man overboard beacon. Two sailors stood ready with hooks, eyes locked on the drifting buoy.

Inside the ship time was being measured for the reports. The engine room confirmed the steady propulsation for reduced speed, giving the RHIB a fighting chance of return. The bridge tracked the drift to maintain the buoys position against current vectors. Simultaneously the medical bay would fire into action as medical personnel stood by in the sickbay, already running through hypothermia protocols, blankets and warming fluids ready as though a real casualty were on the way. A faint transmission broke through from the RHIB:

"RECOVERY COMPLETE - RETURNING TO SHIP"

The transmission was riddled with white noise, the hum of the engine and the deafening scream of the ocean around them, but the message was well received. These drills were essential, espcially in these waters. A single slip could be fatal in a matter of minutes. By the time the RHIB returned and was hauled onboard dripping with seawater, the decks were already reset. Gear was stowed, lines recoiled, systems checks and the drill logged by the wacth officers, noted against readiness ratings and to be reviewed later that evening.

HSwMS Mashai turned her bow back towards Marion Island.

MD > LE

 

[Connor]

[CLASSIFICATION: TOP SECRET]
[LOCATION: SOUTHERN OCEAN]
[TIME: 14H20M]
[OPERATION VAESITE II: PHASE ONE]

The days that followed brought no respite from the cruelty of the South Ocean, but the crew of HSwMS Mashai settle into the long, unbroken rhythm of patrol. The endless horizon offered little for sightseeing crew members, only steel-grey waves capped with white foam and the looming sky hanging heavy over them. Yet even in the monotony, the ship remained alive with purpose. A bustling city in the vast nothingness. Routine was not a luxury here, it was for pure survival in the harshest of conditions. The bridge kept its dim tactical lighting, red hues spilling onto navigation charts as officers continue to plot each hour and the continuation of weather reports from Casey Station filtering through with little difference to the last. Every single transmission was yet another reminder of how alone they were in the Southern Ocean and how many before them, fighting the same fight, had lost their lives. Lookouts endured their watches on the bridge wings, bodies braced against the battering cold, the Southern Ocean attacking them with bitter winds that despite their best efforts cut through even the thickest of issued gear. Their task was unchanging, their determination commendable and their discipline unwavering.

Below decks the churning engines continued with similar unwavering strength, a heartbeat of the vessel against its steel frame. Engineers continued to carried out their duties with precision in monitoring pressure gauges and oil lines, logging every detail as though the act of writing itself kept the ship alive. They moved in a world of heat and noise, a stark contract to the option of freezing cold Antarctic air above them. In the galley, the routine of ensuring the crew were well looked after pressed on as meals were served at strict intervals with high-calorie foods designed for endurance over comfort. Plates rattled and mugs clattered across the bolted-down tables with every violent pitch of the ship. Despite this, the men and women working this ship were totally unfazed, a rhythm they were well and truly used to, especially in these aggressive seas. Small comforts were bound within the discipline of the mission. Letters written during off-watch and card games played in the mess rooms were only decorated by quiet conversations exchanged over the endless drone of machinery. Within the main control suites of the ship the vigilance never stopped. Radar operators maintained constant sweep of the Southern Ocean, eyes trained on the faint green arcs that revealed the shifting positions of icebergs and the occasional echo of vessels in the distance. Every contact was logged, assessed and transmitted back to Stockholm, no matter how trivial it appeared. Combat systems officers conducted silent checks across the ship's weapons suites, ensuring the 57mm Bofors and remote weapon stations were primed should the need arise. Fire-control radars were tested against the horizon, their signatures carefully limited to avoid unnecessary provocation, while electronic support measures tracked the electromagnetic spectrum for any foreign transmissions of their own. It was unlikely that an enemy would appear here, at the bottom of the world, but it was key that the ship remained ready is one of the most contested regions in recent maritime history. In the south, complacency was as deadly as the sea itself and Mashai would remain prepared for whatever challenge the horizon delivered.

Sleep would caught up on when possible, interrupted only by the swells and constant vibration of the hull but it took little time for the crew to adjust. To an outsider it would have seemed relentless, almost like torture, but for those onboard this was the expected behaviour of Antarctic patrol. Each log entry, every watch completed, each uneventful hour endured was its own victory. Presence was its own weapon and the act of continuing eastward through thr storm-beaten waters was a reminder to the world that Sweden held fast in these territories. No banners, no shots and yet sovereignty was declared with every mile sailed.