The clock struck 11:34 local time as the USS Bulkley, an Arleigh Burke-class destroyer, escorted a convoy of three commercial tankers through the Strait of Hormuz.

The combined cargo of these tankers amounted to an impressive 4.2 million barrels of crude oil, valued at approximately $380 million.

For six weeks, the Bulkley had provided escort services, ensuring the safe passage of commercial shipping amid escalating tensions in the region.

Insurance companies and shipping firms had demanded protection, and the U.S. Navy was committed to delivering it.

However, this day would prove to be different.

At 11:34, Iran made a calculated decision to send a message to the world.

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What followed over the next 41 minutes would be a chaotic mix of combat and calculated retaliation, culminating in the largest single U.S. military strike against Iran since Operation Praying Mantis in 1988.

To understand the Iranian strategy, we must consider the economic context.

Oil prices had stabilized after a period of volatility, and while previous U.S. engagements had rattled the markets, they had not broken them.

Insurance premiums for transits through the Strait had doubled, but commercial vessels continued to operate.

Iran’s strategy of harassment and escalation had not yielded the desired results.

With individual attacks on military ships failing to shift the balance, Iran opted for a more coordinated assault targeting the convoy directly.

This tactic aimed to damage commercial shipping and demonstrate that American protection was not absolute, potentially forcing insurance companies to refuse coverage and choking the Strait without formally closing it.

It was a sophisticated strategy that almost worked.

At 11:31, the convoy was transiting the narrowest section of the Strait, with the Bulkley positioned ahead and to starboard, maintaining standard escort formation.

Iranian fast attack boats had been shadowing the convoy for 40 minutes, with seven Peykaap-class boats operating in three groups.

The Bulkley’s radar tracked the boats continuously, a common occurrence during convoy operations.

However, at 11:32, the pattern changed dramatically.

Two groups of boats accelerated simultaneously; one group headed toward the convoy’s lead tanker while the other circled wide, positioning themselves behind the formation.

Commander William Drake, the Bulkley’s captain, recognized the maneuver as a classic swarm attack strategy designed to pressure defenders from multiple directions.

He ordered general quarters and prepared for engagement.

At 11:33, he issued a radio warning on international frequencies, stating, “Iranian naval vessels, this is U.S. Navy warship. You are approaching a protected convoy. Alter course immediately. Failure to comply may be perceived as hostile intent.”

There was no response.

At 11:34, the lead group of Iranian boats opened fire—not at the Bulkley, but at the lead tanker, the MT Pacific Voyager.

107 mm rockets streaked toward the Liberian-flagged supertanker, which was carrying 1.8 million barrels of Saudi crude oil.

The Bulkley’s Phalanx CIWS, designed to protect the destroyer, engaged automatically, but the geometry of the attack was unfavorable.

Three rockets struck the Pacific Voyager; one hit the superstructure, while two struck above the waterline on the hull.

Fortunately, modern supertankers are designed with compartmentalized holds to prevent catastrophic fires, so the tanker did not explode.

However, she was damaged, burning, and dead in the water within minutes, although there were no casualties among the crew—luck played a significant role, as the impacts hit unoccupied spaces.

The Bulkley now faced a dilemma.

Her primary mission was to protect the convoy, but engaging the attackers meant turning away from the remaining two tankers, which were also under threat.

In a split-second decision, Commander Drake ordered the Bulkley to engage the lead group while broadcasting emergency warnings to the trailing tankers: “Scatter, run, maximum speed toward Omani waters.”

At 11:35, the Bulkley opened fire, unleashing her 5-inch naval gun at a rate of 20 rounds per minute.

The lead Iranian boat, just 400 meters away, took a direct hit and disintegrated.

The remaining boats in the lead group scattered, having expected harassment rather than annihilation.

But while the Bulkley engaged the forward group, the rear group struck.

At 11:36, four Iranian boats launched a coordinated missile attack using C-802 anti-ship missiles.

Two missiles targeted the second tanker, while two targeted the Bulkley herself.

The destroyer’s Aegis system detected the launches instantly, prioritizing threats to the ship.

Two SM-2 missiles were launched against the inbound C-802s, but the tanker-bound missiles were not engaged due to the limited reaction time.

At 11:37, one C-802 struck the MT Arabian Spirit, a Maltese-flagged tanker carrying 1.2 million barrels of Kuwaiti crude.

The missile penetrated the engine compartment, igniting a fire on board.

The second missile aimed at the tanker malfunctioned, corkscrewing into the sea 200 meters short of its target.

At 11:37:14, the SM-2 interceptors found their targets, successfully destroying both C-802s aimed at the Bulkley.

However, the Iranian boats were not finished.

At 11:38, the scattered lead group regrouped and made another run, launching rockets and machine gun fire at the Bulkley’s port side.

Most rounds missed or bounced off the ship’s armor, but one rocket struck near the helicopter hangar, causing minor damage but no casualties.

The Bulkley’s response was immediate.

The 5-inch gun engaged again, destroying two more Peykaap boats in rapid succession.

The Phalanx CIWS stitched a third boat with 20 mm rounds, causing it to take on water.

At 11:42, the remaining Iranian boats broke contact and fled toward territorial waters at maximum speed.

The engagement lasted just eight minutes.

The result was three Iranian boats destroyed, one disabled, and two tankers damaged, one severely.

While there were zero American casualties, the convoy escort mission had failed, and two ships were now burning.

Millions of barrels of oil were at risk, effectively closing the Strait of Hormuz to commercial traffic until the situation could be resolved.

Commander Drake reported to Fifth Fleet immediately, and the response chain activated faster than ever before.

Vice Admiral Santos had been monitoring the convoy escort in real-time and had witnessed the engagement unfold.

This attack was not like previous incidents; it was an assault on international commerce, freedom of navigation, and the global economy.

The rules of engagement authorized a response, and the scale of the attack demanded it.

At 11:47, Santos authorized a strike package aimed not just at the attacking boats, but at their home base—Bandar Abbas, Iran’s largest naval installation.

Destroying the patrol boats was tactical, but destroying Bandar Abbas was strategic.

At 11:51, the strike package launched.

The USS Dwight D. Eisenhower was operating 140 nautical miles southwest, with her airwing on heightened alert since the convoy entered the Strait.

Eight F/A-18E Super Hornets launched within four minutes, each aircraft loaded with maximum ordinance: JDAMs, JSOWs, and HARMs for air defense suppression.

Simultaneously, the guided missile submarine USS Florida surfaced and began launching Tomahawk strikes, firing 24 cruise missiles—the full capacity of her vertical launch tubes.

The cruiser USS Monterey added 12 more Tomahawks, bringing the total to 36 cruise missiles and eight strike aircraft targeting one of the most heavily defended naval installations in the Middle East.

The Iranians were aware of the impending strike; their radar systems detected the Tomahawk launches, and their air defense networks went active.

SA-2 and SA-6 batteries around Bandar Abbas prepared to engage, but it was too late.

At 12:11, 37 minutes after the strike authorization, the first wave of American aircraft arrived.

Four EA-18G Growlers had preceded the strike package, jamming Iranian radar screens with noise and targeting any emitters with HARMs.

Within the first 90 seconds, three Iranian radar sites went dark, rendering the air defense network blind.

At 12:13, the Tomahawks struck.

The 24 missiles from the USS Florida targeted fuel storage, ammunition bunkers, and the main pier complex.

The 12 missiles from the USS Monterey struck headquarters buildings, communications facilities, and the patrol boat maintenance area.

At 12:15, 41 minutes after the attack on the convoy, the first JDAM dropped from a Super Hornet.

The naval base at Bandar Abbas was being systematically dismantled.

The F/A-18s made multiple passes, each adding to the destruction.

Boat pens collapsed, cranes toppled, and fuel farms ignited.

The Iranians attempted to respond; two F-14 Tomcats, though ancient, scrambled from a nearby airfield.

However, they were intercepted by American F/A-18s before reaching the combat zone, and both Iranian pilots ejected safely.

By 12:35, the strike was complete.

The Bandar Abbas naval facility had been effectively destroyed, with satellite imagery later confirming the extent of the damage: 23 fast attack boats sunk at the pier, fuel storage 90% destroyed, and the headquarters building collapsed.

Estimated personnel casualties ranged from 200 to 300.

The cost to Iran was catastrophic—the loss of their primary naval base in the Strait of Hormuz.

The cost to America was minimal, with zero casualties and only four Tomahawks malfunctioning or being intercepted.

The fate of the convoy was mixed.

The MT Pacific Voyager was towed to Fujairah for repairs and would return to service in three months, while the MT Arabian Spirit was deemed a total loss.

The ship burned for four days before sinking in shallow water, causing an environmental disaster as 1.2 million barrels of oil spilled into the Gulf of Oman.

Cleanup efforts would take years.

The third tanker, the MT Global Fortune, escaped undamaged, and her captain later described watching the Bulkley engage from his bridge, likening it to a movie—except the explosions were real.

The economic impact was immediate, with oil prices spiking 23% in the first hour after news broke.

Insurance companies suspended coverage for Strait transits, and shipping companies rerouted vessels around the Cape of Good Hope, adding two weeks and millions of dollars to each voyage.

The Strait of Hormuz, through which 21% of the world’s oil flows, was effectively closed for commercial traffic.

While this was precisely what Iran had aimed for, the cost had been catastrophic.

Their fast attack boat fleet was decimated, and their ability to project power in the Strait was crippled for months, possibly years.

The 41-minute response demonstrated a critical lesson that Iran had underestimated: American restraint had limits.

For months, the U.S. had responded proportionally—attacking a destroyer resulted in the loss of a missile battery, and attacking a supply ship led to the destruction of a naval outpost.

However, attacking international commerce and the global economy would elicit a response of strategic destruction.

The message was clear: future attacks on commercial shipping would not be met with proportional responses; they would be met with overwhelming force.

Whether this message would deter future Iranian actions remained uncertain.

What was certain was that the balance of power in the Strait of Hormuz had shifted decisively.

Iran had fired first, damaged two tankers, and briefly closed the Strait, but in just 41 minutes, they lost their most important naval base.

Military traffic resumed within days, and commercial shipping followed weeks later once insurance companies recalibrated their risk models.

The oil spill from the Arabian Spirit spread across 400 square miles before containment efforts took hold, with environmental damage expected to persist for decades.

Two Iranian F-14 pilots became prisoners of war, the first Americans to take such captives since the Iraq War.

They were released in a quiet exchange three months later.

The Bulkley returned to convoy duty after two weeks of repairs, and her crew received combat action ribbons.

Commander Drake was awarded the Navy Cross for his actions during the engagement.

In the halls of the Pentagon and the bunkers of Thrron, military planners meticulously studied the engagement, analyzing tactics and revising doctrines.

The summer of 2026 had illustrated what a limited naval war looked like—ships attacked, bases destroyed, oil spilled, and lives lost.

No one wanted to see what unlimited war would entail, yet no one knew how to stop the escalation either.

The Strait of Hormuz remains the world’s most critical choke point, with 21 million barrels of oil transported daily through contested waters, and two nations poised to fight for control over it.