
A decade ago, a French nuclear attack submarine slipped through the layered defenses of a U.S. carrier strike group and scored enough simulated hits to “sink” a Nimitz-class flagship. The war game was scripted, the torpedoes were imaginary, but the message was not: in an ocean that is increasingly opaque to traditional sensors, even a “tiny” boat can stalk a $4.5 Billion symbol of American power. I see that exercise less as an embarrassment than as an early warning about how modern undersea warfare is rewriting the rules of naval dominance.
Today, as navies pour money into quieter hulls, smarter sonar and autonomous systems, the oceans themselves are becoming harder to read. Temperature layers, background noise and electronic clutter are turning vast stretches of water into acoustic fog, and the French Rubis-class boat that humiliated a U.S. carrier strike group was one of the first to exploit that reality at scale.
The day a French Rubis stalked a U.S. supercarrier
The core of the story is straightforward: during a joint U.S.-French exercise, a French Rubis-class nuclear attack submarine penetrated the protective ring around a U.S. carrier strike group and executed multiple simulated torpedo attacks on the carrier. In the controlled chaos of the scenario, the French crew maneuvered their compact boat into firing position, logged their “shots,” and slipped away before the American escorts could effectively respond. Later reconstructions of the event described a U.S. admiral being told some version of “Admiral, Our Supercarrier Was Just Sunk by a Sub,” a line that captured how a relatively small platform had outplayed a much larger force in its own backyard, as detailed in accounts of the joint exercise.
What made the episode sting was not just the simulated loss of a single ship, but the implication that a carefully handled French Rubis could crack open the layered defenses of a full American carrier strike group. Reports on the exercise emphasize that the French and American navies were working closely together, yet the French boat still managed to exploit gaps in the U.S. anti-submarine warfare posture, prompting the now-famous formulation “Admiral, Our Supercarrier Was Just, Sunk, Sub, How” in retellings of the event that underline how a supposedly secure carrier can be rendered vulnerable by a determined undersea opponent, as later analyses of the Admiral narrative make clear.
Inside the “Sir, the aircraft carrier is gone” moment
In later debriefs, the French Rubis was portrayed as the underdog that outfoxed a technologically superior adversary. The submarine, described explicitly as a French Rubis, used its small size, quiet reactor and intimate knowledge of local waters to evade detection by U.S. surface ships, helicopters and fixed-wing aircraft. At the climax of the scenario, American officers were effectively told, “Sir, the aircraft carrier is gone,” a phrase that has since become shorthand for the shock of seeing a supposedly invulnerable asset disappear from the tactical picture, as recounted in summaries of the French Rubis engagement.
The same basic scenario has been described in another retelling built around the phrase “Sir, We Have Been Hit,” which focuses on how a Tiny Nuclear Submarine, operating inside the carrier’s defensive bubble, was able to log enough simulated torpedo strikes to have Sank a $4.5 Billion U.S. Navy Aircraft Carrier. That account stresses that the carrier was not alone, but part of a well-defended U.S. supercarrier group, and that the French crew still managed to exploit blind spots in sonar coverage and gaps in patrol patterns to deliver their virtual blows, as highlighted in the detailed reconstruction of Sir, We Have.
A 30-year-old hull versus USS Theodore Roosevelt
What makes the French success even more striking is the age and design of the platform involved. One detailed account describes how a 30-year-old French submarine, identified as The Rubis, managed to “sink” the USS Theodore Roosevelt during a war game, despite its smaller size and older design. The report notes that the USS, Theodore Roosevelt was operating as part of U.S. Carrier Strike Group 12, with multiple escorts and layered defenses, yet the aging French boat still found a way to close the distance and execute its simulated attack, as laid out in the analysis of the 30-year-old French submarine.
Another breakdown of the same episode distills the lesson into “2 Words That Explain How” a French Submarine Sank a Navy Aircraft Carrier: Stealth Wins. In that telling, the USS Theodore Roosevelt, identified with its hull number 71, is portrayed as a powerful but inherently noisy and conspicuous target, while the French boat leveraged low acoustic signatures, careful speed control and the cluttered acoustic environment to remain undetected until it was too late. The phrase Stealth Wins is used to capture how, in modern undersea warfare, the quietest platform often dictates the terms of engagement, a point underscored in the assessment that a French Submarine effectively Sank a Navy Aircraft Carrier because Stealth Wins.
“It was a horror show”: the Nimitz-class wake-up call
For U.S. planners, the most haunting description of the exercise comes from an account that labels it bluntly: “It Was, Horror Show.” In that version, an Old French Nuclear Attack Submarine is said to have Sank a Nimitz-class carrier during a multinational exercise, with the U.S. side reportedly acknowledging the outcome even if the full details remained sensitive. The phrase “It Was a Horror Show” captures the sense of watching a carefully constructed defensive posture unravel in the face of a nimble undersea adversary, as described in the narrative of the Old French Nuclear.
Another retrospective frames the same war game as “The Suppressed Story of How a French Submarine ‘Sunk’ a U.S. Aircraft Carrier,” and it opens with the line Here, What You Need To Remember. That analysis argues that the “sinking” of the Roosevelt was more than a bruised ego, it was an important data point in understanding how even legacy submarines can threaten high-value surface ships when oceans are acoustically complex and defenses are stretched thin. The Roosevelt episode is presented as a case study in how assumptions about carrier invulnerability can crumble when confronted with a patient, well-trained undersea opponent, as laid out in the reflection on Here, What You.
When oceans turn unreadable for billion-dollar ships
The financial stakes of these simulated sinkings are spelled out starkly in later analyses that put a price tag on the target. One widely cited figure describes a $4,500,000,000 Nuclear Navy Nimitz, Class Aircraft Carrier that was effectively Sunk by a Year Old French Attack Sub during the exercise, underscoring how a relatively inexpensive platform can threaten a vessel that costs $4,500,000,000 to build and even more to operate over its lifetime. The same reporting notes that the Navy Nimitz class is expected to operate in contested Indo-Pacific waters, where dense shipping, complex seabed topography and variable water conditions will make detection even harder, as highlighted in the breakdown of the $4,500,000,000 Nuclear Navy.
Another detailed study of the same war game, framed around How a French Submarine SANK a $4.5 Billion U.S. Navy Aircraft Carrier, reinforces the point that the French Submarine used the environment itself as a weapon. That analysis notes that the Billion figure attached to the Navy Aircraft Carrier is not just a budget line, it is a measure of how much strategic risk the United States assumes every time it sails such a ship into waters where the acoustic picture is incomplete. The French Navy’s ability to carry out the simulated attack is presented as a warning that, as oceans become more acoustically cluttered and harder to model, even the most advanced surface combatants can find themselves effectively blind, a theme driven home in the examination of How a French Submarine SANK a $4.5 Billion ship.
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