Wolverine and Chiefs

[Matt Wiser]

Dave Golen got it.

[Matt Wiser]

Working on the next piece, folks.

[Belushi TD]

YAY!!!!

[Wolfman]

W00T!

[Matt Wiser]

Getting set for the next one....


335th TFS, Sheppard AFB, TX: 1145 Hours Central War Time:


In the CO's Office, Major Wiser sat behind his desk, dealing with the armchair warriors. While annoying, at least the XO filtered out what was really important for his attention, and dealt with the rest “on behalf of the Commanding Officer.” Though some did get through the XO's filter, such as a memo from a Supply Officer at HQ TAC, reminding squadron commanders about “excessive expenditure” of 20-mm ammo. I thought Sundown cleaned these up, Guru thought. He thought about feeding it to the shredder, but decided that General Tanner needed to see it. And he will the next time he comes to Sheppard, the CO decided.

He was just about finished when there was a knock on the door, and it opened to reveal Goalie, with two plastic bags and a drink carrier in her arms. “Beware Romulans bearing gifts,” she said.

“You're not much of a Trekkie and neither am I,” Guru said. “But that's still a nice little phrase.”

“At least I didn't have to cross the Neutral Zone to get these,” Goalie quipped. “Bison burgers with cheese, no onions, fries, cole slaw, and lemonade.” She saw the memo on his desk. “And what's that, or do I need to know.”

“Here,” Guru said, showing her the memo. “Sundown cleaned this bunch out, but another bunch of parasites wound up replacing them.”

Goalie read it. “Lovely. So some unrated weenie, even if he has eagles on his shoulders, is upset we're shooting off too much 20-mm. You showing this to Tanner?”

“Colonel Brady first,” Guru said. “Then if he comes in a week or two? Then General Tanner. And then, hopefully, Sundown sees it from Tanner, and the housecleaning at TAC is more intense this time.”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe is right. Enough talk, let's eat.”


Over lunch, they discussed squadron matters, and the two strikes they had flown that morning. “The MiGs came last time, and we were too late,” Guru lamented. He wanted to get his own shot at double ace, though he knew that ace fever was something to keep in check.

“Can't get them all and we both know it,” said Goalie. “At least Dave Golen, Flossy, and the RAF have been on the ball.”

“And the RAF won't be here in two or three weeks,” Guru reminded her. “They go to San Diego, turn their birds over to the Navy, and then...”

“And they get some R&R, some stay on and learn the E, and the rest head back across the Pond.”

Guru nodded, but before he could say anything, there was a knock on the door. “Yeah? Come on in and show yourself!”

Capt. Kevin O'Donnell, the Maintenance Officer, came in. “Boss,” he nodded. “Flossy's bird is ready. She's taking 1569 up on a check ride, and before you ask, Dave Golen is with her.” He had two papers for the CO. One was the maintenance summary. The other was the flight plan. Guru quickly signed both.

“Okay,” Guru said after returning the papers. “Find Don, and tell him to pass the flight plan to MAG-11. And have Don tell both Flossy and Dave that they need to get whatever they need done, done and back here in thirty minutes from wheels-up.”

“On the way, Boss,” O'Donnell said, going out and closing the door. A few minutes later, the sounds of four J-79 engines warming up could be heard from the squadron's dispersal.

Kara then came in after knocking. “Boss, we got a mission, but...”

“But what?” Guru asked.

She showed him the Frag Order, along with a few photos. Some had been taken from an SR-71, while others were low-level from an RF-4C. Both the CO and Kara wondered if Athena had taken these... “Says here it's a 'Liberation Radio' transmitter facility, and across the road is a truck park. The 'but' is this: The ordnance is laid out here: six Mark-82s and six M-117s for both the transmitter and the truck park.”

Goalie asked, “So?”

“So here: next to the ordnance for the transmitter is 'Or at strike leader's discretion.'” Kara looked at the CO. “You thinking what I'm thinking?”

“I am,” Guru said. “Somebody at Nellis decided to let us use the intellectual bombs if we want. And I do want to use them. We've got the pods, got the bombs, and crews trained to used them. We've done it before, remember?”

“And General Olds gave us his blessing that time,” Goalie recalled. “He'd be suggesting an UNODIR right now.”

Guru nodded. “We will, but not with the bombs, but I want some extra BARCAP for the MiGs out of Brownwood Regional. That place still crawls with Red Air.” He picked up the phone and called Capt. Kerry Collins, the Ordnance Officer. “Kerry, Guru. How fast can you put two GBU-10s and a Pave Spike on 512 and 520, with the two AIM-7s, wing tanks, jammer pod, and 20-mm?”

“Twenty minutes, Boss. Easy.” Replied Collins. “This UNODIR?”

“Yep. And the same goes for Dave Golen and Flossy. I want them with four AIM-9s, two Sparrows, the rest the same. How fast on that?”

“They just landed, Can do theirs in fifteen, Boss.”

“Then don't waste anymore time talking to me. Get those birds prepped and ready.”

“On it, Boss.” Then Collins hung up.

Guru hung up himself. “And that's off.” He was about to say something else when Colonel Brady knocked on the door, then opened it. “Colonel?”

“As you were, people,” Brady said as he came in. “Major, I wanted to let you know personally. So far, no sign of any CAS tasking.”

“Sir that's good to know,” Guru replied. “Because we have something in mind for this next one.” He and Kara outlined what was in mind to Brady.

The MAG-11 CO looked at the Frag Order and the photos. Then he nodded. “I like it. Just do this UNODIR as you've done previously and I'll run interference with anyone who complains from Tenth Air Force. Not the first time with you people, or my Marines, and it won't be the last.”

“Well sir, if we have to invoke General Olds...”

“If we have to, we have to,” Brady finished. “I know, the Frag Order says it's your discretion, but do it UNODIR anyway due to you pulling two birds off what the ATO wants them to do. I'll make sure the strike launch message gets sent. After you all are off the tankers.”

Guru nodded. “Yes, sir. And thank you, sir.”

“No thanks necessary, Major,” said Brady. “And if somebody squawks about something not being hit because two F-4s got pulled from that to do a BARCAP? That came first. Just fly your mission and we'll sort it out later if necessary.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good luck, Major,” Brady said.

“Thank you, sir,” Guru said as they both shook hands, then Brady left.

“Well,” Goalie said.

“Well,” Guru nodded. “Okay, Kara? You go back to the Ops Office and get the briefing packet. Bring it with you to the briefing room, and while you're at Ops? Create the necessary paperwork to get Dave and Flossy on BARCAP with us.”

“Got you.” Kara nodded back.

“Then both of you, round everybody up who's going. Briefing Room in Fifteen. And not a second over.”

“On it and we're gone,” Kara said as she and Goalie went out the door.

Guru then pulled out a TPC chart and a JOG chart, decided his options on how to get in and out, then made his decision. He then put the charts away, then headed for the Briefing Room.

When he got there, he found the squadron's mascot, Buddy, waiting outside the door. Guru opened the door, and the dog went inside, found a place to curl up, then went to sleep. The rest of the flight, including Dave Golen, Flossy, their GIBs,(who had just arrived from their check flight) and Dave Gledhill's element from the RAF, were there. “Okay, people, halftime's over, and we're kicking off the third quarter. And we got an UNODIR one right out of the gate.”

“Haven't had one of those for a while,” Sweaty quipped. “This because of the bombs again?”

“No,” Guru said. “This is because I pulled Dave Golen and Flossy of what the ATO had them doing and put them with us. Since Kara and I have the smart bombs, I want two extra birds loaded for air-to-air.”

Dave Golen nodded. A chance at pure air-to-air didn't come that often, so....

“All right, here's the target.” Guru pointed at a map, then the photos Kara had shown him earlier. “It's a 'Liberation Radio' facility on the west side of F.M. 1702, and this one's mobile. They've been there a couple days, the intel sheet says, so we need to take them out before they pull out for somewheres else.” He looked at Kara. “I'll take the antenna truck. That's about three hundred yards south of the other trucks. You get the trucks proper, there's several of them, and put your bombs smack in the middle.”

“And send them scattered into the next county,” Kara quipped.

“Fine with me,” Guru said. “Sweaty?” He looked at his second element lead. “You and Hoser have this, north of Kirkendell Creek, southeast side of 1702. There's a truck park. That's yours.”

Sweaty nodded. “Mark-82s and M-117s?” Seeing the CO nod, she and Hoser looked at each other, then nodded again. “We'll take it out.”

“Good,” Guru said. “Now, ordnance. Kara and I each have two GBU-10s, a Pave Spike pod, two AIM-7Fs, full 20-mm, an ALQ-119 pod, and two wing tanks. Sweaty and Hoser have six Mark-82s with the Daisy Cutter fuze extenders, six M-117s, and the usual four AIM-9s, two Sparrows with pod, 20-mm, and two wing tanks.”

“Got you,” Sweaty replied.

Guru then turned to Dave Golen. “Dave, you and Flossy are BARCAP to the West. Block anyone coming out of either Brownwood Regional or Goodfellow further West. And Goodfellow still has MiG-29s, by the way.”

“Will do,” Dave Golen replied, while Flossy and their GIBs nodded.

“Dave Gledhill?” Guru turned to the RAF. “You guys are BARCAP to the East. Kill anyone coming from Temple Regional, Waco/TSTC, Austin and Bergstrom, or further south. The MiG threat is unchanged since this morning, but they note that Brownwood Regional has MiG-21s and -23s, with the former East German, and Goodfellow has MiG-23s besides the Fulcrums.”

“Can do,” Dave Gledhill said. “We'll have four Sky Flash, for AIM-9Ls, a SUU-23 pod, and wing tanks.”

“Good,” said Guru. “Now, go in ahead of us when I give the strike commit call, and kill anyone in the air at the target. Don't get too close to Dublin Airport, as the East German 9th Panzer Division's HQ is there, and there's SA-6.”

“Understood,” Gledhill replied, and Dave Golen nodded.

“Okay, defenses,” Guru went on, and he saw that he had everybody's attention. “There's SA-6 at Dublin, as I said, and at the targets proper? Nothing around the radio site, but expect possible gun trucks with ZU-23s or those quad 14.5 machine-gun mounts. The truck park has ZU-23s, and both probably have folks who have MANPADS, so be careful. This is both a Divisional rear area and an Army-level rear area, so be careful.”

“Got you,” Sweaty said, and both Kara and Hoser nodded.

Guru nodded back, then said, “Here's how we get in,” pointing to a TPC chart and a JOG chart. “Tanker Track CHEVRON at Mineral Wells is where we tank up. Then we go in following the Brazos as usual, and stay on the east side if at all possible.” That meant dipping into the Nicaraguan II Corps Sector, but since they hadn't been attacked, they were likely to hold their fire. The East Germans on the west side, though.... “Stay with the Brazos until we hit Lake Whitney. About a mile short of the dam, we turn onto a 270 heading. Go south of Meridian until we get to the town of Fairy, at the junction of F.M. 1602 and F.M. 219. Then we go northwest along 219 to Purves-which is more a crossroads with ruins than a town. That's our IP. Pull up, and keep going west until you see a ranch pond with dam. The Truck Park is to the northwest of that, and the Radio Site is across the road. Hit your target, then get back down low, head northwest, and find the Leon River. Follow that to Highway 16, then head north to the I-20. Climb after clearing the Interstate, join up with the tankers at CHEVRON, then come on home.”

“And right into CAS,” Hoser spat.

“Down, boy,” Guru said. “You might just be right about that. Still, let's hope things get under control, and the Scooters, SLUFs, and Hogs can do their thing without us.”

Kara looked at the CO. “To be wished for.”

“You and me both,” said the CO just as a knock on the door came, and an Ops NCO arrived to collect the briefing materials. “We're Mustang Flight on this. Anything else?”

Flossy nodded in the dog's direction. “Buddy's still asleep.”

“Let him sleep,” Guru said. “If that's it, gear up, and meet at 512. We've got somewhere to be and people and things to burn, bleed, and blow up.”

“Once more unto the breach, dear friends.” Preacher said as things broke up.

Jang replied, “Just as long as that 'close up the walls with our dead' shit gets left out.” And everyone laughed.

After going to the Men's Locker Room to gear up, Guru found Goalie outside, waiting. “Ready?”

“And they pay us for this?” Goalie quipped.

“Not much, and not enough,” replied Guru as they headed out the door to the dispersal area. They soon got to 512's revetment and found their flight there. “Okay, folks, gather 'round.” It was time for his final instructions.

“Usual on the radio?” Flossy asked. That was mission code to AWACS and other parties, but call signs between them.

“It is, and bailout areas are unchanged. Anyplace away from the roads, simply put.”

“And when we get back, we get CAS assigned,” Kara said.

“Even money bet,” Guru nodded. “Anything else?” Heads shook no. He then clapped his hands for emphasis. “Meet up at ten grand overhead. Time to hit it.”

The crews headed for their aircraft, and Guru and Goalie went into 512's revetment. There, the Crew Chief was waiting. “Major, Captain,” Sergeant Crowley said, snapping a salute. “Five-twelve's ready to kick some more Commie ass.”

“Thanks, Mike,” Guru said as he and Goalie returned the salute. Pilot and GIB did a quick preflight walk-around, then Guru signed for the airplane. “What do you think, Sergeant?”

“Been a while since these got hung from my airplane,” the Crew Chief replied, with a nice reminder that Crew Chiefs “owned” the aircraft and that the flight crew merely “borrowed” it.

“Might be doing this a lot more come spring,” Guru said as he and Goalie mounted the aircraft and got settled in. The Crew Chief helped both get strapped in, then both plugged in their helmets to the radio/IC and the oxygen system.

They went through the preflight in the cockpit, and Goalie said as they went through the checklist, “You're serious about doing more smart bomb strikes.” It wasn't a question.

“Why not? We've got the bomb kits, we've got the pods. So let's go and use 'em,” Guru replied. “Arnie?” He meant the ARN-101 DMAS nav system.

“Arnie's set. Backup INS ready,” Goalie said. “I don't see why not,” she added. “Ejection seats?”

“Same here. Armed top and bottom, check yours,” said Guru.

“Ready here. Preflight checklist complete and ready for engine start.

Guru nodded in the front seat. He gave a thumbs-up to Sergeant Crowley, who gave the “Start Engines” signal. First one, then both, J-79 engines were soon up and running. Once the run-up was complete, it was time to call the Tower.

Guru made the call. “Tower, Mustang Lead with eight, requesting taxi and takeoff instructions.”

“Mustang Lead, Tower,” a controller replied. “Clear to Taxi to Runway Three-Five-Charlie. Hold prior to the active, and you are number two in line.”

“Roger, Tower. Mustang Lead rolling.” Guru then gave the “Chocks” signal to the Crew Chief, who waved to the ground crew. The chocks were pulled back, and Crowley gave the “Taxi” signal.

Guru released the brakes, and 512 taxied out of the revetment. Once clear, Crowley snapped a salute, then gave his own thumbs-up. Both pilot and GIB returned it, then as 512 taxied, the rest of the flight fell in behind. They taxied to Runway 35C, where four Marine F-4s from VMFA-333 were waiting. Their armorers removed the weapon safeties, then the four Marine birds taxied onto the runway. After an arriving C-141B came in, landed, and taxied clear, the Marines were cleared for takeoff, the four Phantoms thundering down the runway and into the air. Then it was Mustang Flight's turn.

“Tower,” Guru called. “Mustang Lead requesting taxi for takeoff.”

“Mustang Lead, Tower,” the controller called back. “Clear to taxi for takeoff. Winds are Two-six-five for five.”

“Roger, Tower.”

The 335th's own armorers removed the weapon safeties, then Guru and Kara taxied onto the Runway. A final cockpit check showed everything ready. “All set?” Guru asked Goalie.

“Ready back here,” Goalie replied.

“Tower, Mustang Lead requesting Clear for Takeoff.” Guru called.

As usual, the Tower didn't reply by radio, but flashed a green light. Clear for Takeoff.

“Canopy coming down,” Guru said, closing and locking his canopy. Goalie did the same, and a quick look to their right at 520 showed Kara and Brainiac had done the same. They gave a thumbs-up to the CO, and it was returned. “Time to go,” he said on the IC.

“That it is,” Goalie said.

With that, Guru released the brakes, and 512 thundered down the runway and into the air, with 520 right with them. Thirty seconds later, it was Sweaty and Hoser's turn, followed by Dave Golen and Flossy, then the RAF. Mustang Flight formed up at FL 100, then headed for the tanker track.

[Poohbah]

"My GBU-10 was Bomb of the Month at Sheppard AFB."

[jemhouston]

How good was the enemy search and rescue?

[Matt Wiser]

What enemy Search and Rescue? Downed Combloc aircrew were told that unless they were found by Spetsnatz or other SOF (like the Cuban TE) behind American lines, they were on their own. Some units told their crews that the best option was to be captured by the U.S. Military instead of the Resistance or worse, angry locals. Lynchings of downed aircrew were not uncommon, and the fate meted out by Indian Tribes like the Apache to downed aircrew has been mentioned before.

[jemhouston]

I may be too hard on the man, but that sounds like something the Edsel mechanic would say.

[Wolfman]

I may be too hard on the man, but that sounds like something the Edsel mechanic would say.

ISTR hearing that one of his Whiz Kids actually did say something to that effect while visiting a carrier…

[jemhouston]

I may be too hard on the man, but that sounds like something the Edsel mechanic would say.

ISTR hearing that one of his Whiz Kids actually did say something to that effect while visiting a carrier…

I couldn't remember if it was him or a Whiz Kid that said it. I'm pretty sure if a Whiz Kid was shot down behind enemy lines, he would want an entire Marine Division to come get him

[Wolfman]

I may be too hard on the man, but that sounds like something the Edsel mechanic would say.

ISTR hearing that one of his Whiz Kids actually did say something to that effect while visiting a carrier…

I couldn't remember if it was him or a Whiz Kid that said it. I'm pretty sure if a Whiz Kid was shot down behind enemy lines, he would want an entire Marine Division to come get him

And they’d say that he was on his own.

[Matt Wiser]

I may be too hard on the man, but that sounds like something the Edsel mechanic would say.

ISTR hearing that one of his Whiz Kids actually did say something to that effect while visiting a carrier…

This happened in late '65-early '66, IIRC. A Whiz Kid showed up on TF-77's flagship in the Gulf of Tonkin, and the Admiral commanding the carriers had his skippers and CAGs present. This snot who'd traveled all the way from the Pentagon told those assembled that it was more cost-effective to recruit and train new pilots and aircrew than to risk SAR birds, RESCAP aircraft, and their crews to go after one or two downed pilots. Basically, "leave them to the NVA/VC and the Pathet Lao." The Admiral exploded, as did everyone else, and told the snot that he had an hour to get off the carrier-and they sent him back to the Philippines on the next C-1. Message traffic went faster, going to 7th Fleet, CINCPAC, then the CNO. It was this attitude (among others) that Admiral Dan Gallery said "I doubt Mr. MacNamara has a morale setting on his computers."

[Matt Wiser]

Fellows, I am working on the next piece. Gaming out the strike and any air-to-air action using the Harpoon rules first....

[Matt Wiser]

And the LGB mission:


Over Central Texas, 1310 Hours Central War Time:


Mustang Flight came in at low level, 500 Feet AGL. They were just inside the Nicaraguan II Corps boundary, but still keeping the Brazos River in sight. With the Nicaraguan gunners on the east side largely holding their fire, they only had to worry about the East Germans on the other side of the river.

In 512, Guru concentrated on flying the airplane. He glanced at his RWR display, then the gauges, then he had his head on a swivel, scanning outside. Habits picked up at the RTU never left, and those were key reasons he and his GIB were still alive. A quick glance above and behind showed Dave Golen's two F-4s flying cover, while a look to the right had Kara in 520 right with him. Then he asked Goalie. “How far to U.S. 67?” That meant the Glen Rose bridge.

“Fifteen seconds,” she replied. Then she looked at her own RWR display. A strobe appeared, followed by the SEARCH warning light. “Search radar up at four.”

“I see it,” Guru said. It was that damned Mainstay again. “Mainstay's up, and bridge in sight on the right.”

The U.S. 67 bridge appeared, and to everyone's regret, no military traffic was either using the bridge or waiting to do so.

“Too bad,” Guru said wistfully. “Nobody waiting to die.”

“Maybe next time,” Goalie said. “Old Brazospoint Bridge in fifteen.”

“Roger that.” Then Guru called the AWACS. “Crystal Palace, Mustang Lead. Say threats?”

Just as the bridge appeared, an AWACS controller called back. “Mustang Lead, Crystal Palace. First threat bearing Zero-eight-five for forty. Medium, going away. Second threat bearing One-two-zero for fifty-five. Medium, closing. Third threat bearing One-seven-zero for seventy-five. Medium, closing. Fourth threat bearing One-eight-five for ninety. Medium, going away.”

“Roger, Crystal Palace,” Guru replied as the bridge went by to their right. “Say Bogey Dope?”

“Mustang, First and second threats are Floggers. Third are Fulcrums, and fourth are Flankers.”

Lovely, Guru thought. “Roger, Crystal Palace.”

“Fulcrums and Flankers? They cared enough to send up their best,” Goalie said. “Twenty seconds to the 174 Bridge.”

“They did,” Guru said as he turned slightly to the right, still following the river, but they would cut across a finger just before the Highway 174 Bridge. The gunners on the east side now should have been Libyans, but since the Libyans had moved into the East German sector, these were now Soviets who were Cat III at most, if not Mobilization-only. And as they approached the bridge, just like the U.S. 67, there was a convoy.

“Not this time.” It was Goalie's turn to sigh.


Below, an East German Major of Transport Troops was, to use a term he'd picked up in his time in America, very pissed off. His convoy, a collection of trucks, tank transporters, and APCs belonging to the Kampfgruppe, was bringing supplies, replacement personnel, and even some T-72s for the 9th Panzer Division. Though the trip from the port of Corpus Christi had been routine, with hardly anything that could be considered Resistance activity getting in the way, things were different now. As they approached the rear area of those Nicaraguans, that activity picked up. More snipers were making their presence known, along with some road signs taken down, to confuse drivers and maybe either lure them into an ambush or make them easy targets for an air strike. As for the Soviets who'd moved into this sector to prevent such counterrevolutionary activity? Fat, out of shape reservists from a Rear Area Protection Division who were content to stay in the towns or their base camps, and not patrol the roads. Given their poor equipment, the Major thought,that was probably a good thing, but... One of their officers had told him that if the U.S. Army appeared over the hills one day? His men would either surrender or take to their heels.

Then there was the other problem. Namely, as the convoy got closer to the Army's rear, the danger of air attack increased. As the convoy went down this Route 174, and approached the bridge, the Major ordered his men to increase their vigilance against enemy aircraft and have their shoulder-fired missiles ready. Just then, eight American F-4s appeared, and many of the soldiers scattered from their vehicles in haste. To the Major's surprise, the Imperialist aircraft didn't turn around and attack, but kept on heading south. Where they were going wasn't his concern. Getting his convoy back in order and headed to where they were supposed to be going was.

“Lake Whitney coming up,” Guru noted as they cleared the bridge. “Call out the turn point.”

“Roger that,” Goalie replied.

As Mustang Flight thundered down the lake, as usual, they attracted attention. Locals who were fishing to try and supplement the rations the occupation imposed, stopped fishing to wave at the aircraft, even if the crews couldn't notice. They were also spotted by Soviets who were also fishing with hopes of supplementing the Army-issued rations, and by some Resistance groups and their SF advisors, who now knew there was light at the end of the damned tunnel.

“Thirty seconds to the turn,” Goalie advised.

“Copy,” said Guru. “Crystal Palace, Mustang Lead. Say threats.”

“Mustang Lead, Crystal Palace,” the controller called back. “First Threat bearing Zero-six-five for fifty-five. Medium, closing. Second threat bearing Zero-nine-five for sixty-five. Medium, going away. Third Threat bearing One-eight-zero for seventy. Medium, going away. Fourth threat bearing Two-one-zero for ninety-five. Medium, going away.”

“Roger, Crystal Palace,” Guru called. He looked at his RWR. “Fighters going away, but the damned Mainstay's still there.”

“Those things need killing,” replied Goalie. She checked the DMAS and her map. “Turn point in ten.”

“Call it.”

“Five, four, three, two, one, MARK!”

Guru put 512 into a right turn, a mile short of the dam and the flak batteries guarding it. He settled onto the heading of Two-seven-zero, and the flight did the same. A quick glance to his right showed Kara in 520 with them, and above revealed both Dave Golen and Flossy. Good. “Time to Fairy?

Goalie did a quick calculation based on their current airspeed of 450 Knots. “Four minutes.”

“Copy that.”

The Northern part of the Texas Hill Country flew by as the strike flight approached Fairy. The pilots were busy with their visual scanning, then checking their instruments, then the RWR, in no particular order. While the GIBs were busy with navigation and keeping another set of eyes open for threats. To Guru and many other aircrew in the squadron, this was a very good reason why they should be getting the F-15E when those puppies became available. Even with that being at least a year and a half away..

“How long to Fairy?” Guru asked.

“Thirty seconds,” Goalie advised. “Turn on my call.”

“Copy,” Guru said as the ruins that had been a very small town came into view. “Ready.”

“Turn in five, four, three, two, one, MARK!”

Guru turned northwest, headed for their IP at Purves, another set of ruins that had once been a very small town. “Set 'em up.”

“Got it,” Goalie said. She turned on the Pave Spike, getting a good picture on the camera, and then she lased a couple of buildings they passed, making sure the laser was working. Then she armed the two GBU-10s. “Good to go.”

“Flight, Lead, switches on, music on, and get set.” Then Guru turned on his ECM pod.

“Purves in ten.”

“I see it,” Guru said. “Stand by to pull.”

“And.. PULL!” Goalie called.

As Guru pulled, not only did he pick out the target, but his RWR lit up as a SAM radar and an AAA radar from Dublin Airport came up. “Flight, Lead. Target in sight.”

“Roger, Lead,” Kara called. She was getting ready for her own laser bomb run.

“Pave Spike's on,” Goalie said as both Dave Golen's element and the RAF went to their TARCAP points. “I've got the tower.”

“Let's go.” Guru said as he rolled in.


Below, at the “Liberation Radio” mobile facility, the staff was going about the day's programming schedule. The staff, a mix of KGB, Party Propaganda, Stasi, DGI, and a couple of what the Americans called “Disc Jockeys” from the Hall Government in Austin, had hoped to set up shop in a local radio station, only to find that the Fascists had found the transmitters for the stations in Stephenville and Dublin, and had bombed them off the map. The KGB officer-in-charge of the mobile station had noticed that the East Germans, while cooperative, had also flatly refused to set up any kind of air defense, so their armed escort, a platoon each from the KGB Border Guards and from the East German Frontier Troops, set up their own. Four ZU-23 AA guns and several soldiers armed with Strela-3 Shoulder-fired missiles (SA-14) were all they had, but the KGB Lieutenant Colonel was impressed. The same went for the broadcasts, and he was surprised to know that the Americans didn't bother jamming the signals. He had also heard that the broadcasts were somewhat popular on the other side of the front, but for reasons that the Party and the KGB Psychological Warfare Department would not approve. The popular music the station-and the others-played was very popular with both American servicemembers and civilians, but that the propaganda was most definitely very unpopular. Not just the messages, but the messengers. The Colonel shook his head at that.

The Colonel then went out of his office tent, and mentally reviewed his schedule. Two more days here, then they would move to Stephenville. If the Americans don't find us first, he added. He heard a shout, then saw them. Aircraft overhead, and two of them looked to be coming in on his station. “AIR RAID!” He yelled. “TAKE COVER!”


“Lead's in!” Guru called as he rolled in on the target. Unlike their usual strikes, he took 512 into a shallow dive as he lined the target up in his pipper. He saw some tracers coming up from the light AAA around the target, and the RWR lighting up with at least two Firecan AAA radars and an SA-6. Then he heard Dave Golen's voice call “MAGNUM!” and the radars almost immediately shut down. Thanks, Dave, he thought as Goalie turned on the laser designator in the Pave Spike pod. “Call it,” he said to Goalie.

“Wait, wait.... and HACK!”

Guru hit the pickle button and both GBU-10s came off the pylons. He then made a shallow left turn to keep the laser on target as the bombs followed the laser beam to the transmitter tower. Glancing right, he saw two clouds of smoke and flame erupt.

“SHACK!” Goalie called. “We got it!” She then worked her controls. “And laser's off. Time to go.”

“So it is,” Guru said as an SA-6, likely launched in optical mode, came up. He rolled right, then got back down low as the SA-6 flew past the tail by about a thousand feet. Once the bombs were gone, they weren't flying for God and Country, or Uncle Sam. They were flying for themselves. Once he got down low and crossed over U.S. 377, the CO made his call. “Lead's off target.”


The KGB Colonel had leapt into a slit trench, and several of the off-duty technicians had followed him in. He watched as the lead F-4 came in, dropped what looked like two bombs, then pulled away. Instead of ducking down, the Colonel watched the two bombs seemingly glide effortlessly to the transmitter tower, before they blew it, and the two trucks around it, apart. Then someone pulled him into the trench as the F-4 accelerated away. He shook loose, only to see a second F-4 coming in.

“Tower's down?” Guru said as they cleared U.S. 377. He had taken 512 back down to 500 Feet AGL as he headed northwest towards the Leon River and State Highway 16.

“It's down,” replied Goalie.

“All right,” said Guru as 512 kept on course.

“Two in hot!” Kara called just after the CO had released his own bombs. For Brainiac in 520's back seat, finding the trucks in a laager was easy. He centered the designator on a command vehicle in the center, and turned on the laser.

“Ready,” he called. “And... HACK!”

“Bombs gone,” Kara called. She felt the Paveways come off the aircraft, then, like the CO, made a shallow left turn. And like the CO, she saw the AAA and SA-6 signals on her RWR. Trusting the ECM pod to do its magic, she kept 520 on course as the two GBU-10s slammed into the target, blowing the command vehicle to pieces, and scattering the trucks into various pieces in all directions, with fuel tank-fed fireballs erupting.

“BULLSEYE!” Brainiac shouted. “Laser's off.”

“Roger that!” Kara said as she took 520 down low, matching the CO's maneuver and leveling out at 500 Feet AGL. Unlike the CO, she had an SA-6 come close, passing above the F-4 by about 600 feet, just past the range of the missile's proximity fuse. Letting out a big sigh of relief, she jinked right, then left, before picking up the CO's smoke trail before getting a visual on 512. “Two's off target.”


The KGB Colonel watched as Kara's F-4 came in, and its run was just like the first. He watched helplessly as two bombs landed precisely in the center of the laager, blasting several vehicles into shrapnel while flipping a couple like toys. A few fuel-fed explosions followed, and the Colonel knew right away his station was off the air. Permanently. Shaking his head, he started to get out of the trench when he saw the AA guns still firing. Another American aircraft was coming in, and he ducked back down into the trench.


“Three's in!” Sweaty called as she came down on the truck park. She saw it was easy to pick ou, with truck tracks going in and out, and a number of trucks sitting under camouflage netting. A perfect target for CBUs, but this close to a town... Oh, well. Sweaty ignored the flak coming up, with at least one MANPADS flying by on the right as she lined up the north side of the truck park in her pipper. “And steady... Steady... And.. NOW!” She hit the pickle button, sending her six Mark-82s and six M-117s down onto the East Germans below. Sweaty then pulled up and away, jinking as she did. She then got back down low, still jinking, before she steadied on the escape heading and crossing U.S. 377 as she did. “Three's off!

“Sookin sin,” the Colonel muttered. Son of a bitch. He watched as Sweaty's F-4 came in and released its bombs, seemingly unaffected by the anti-aircraft fire that came up. The Colonel swore again as the bombs were walked across the truck park to the north of what was left of his facility, and several sympathetic explosions followed. Where is the air force, he wondered. Then he groaned as the AA guns swung back. That meant another aircraft, and the Colonel, instead of ducking into the trench, stayed up to watch.


“GOOD HITS!” Preacher shouted. “We have secondaries!”

“What kind?” Sweaty asked as an SA-7 or -14 flew past on the right. She jinked to the right, and another missile, this one a bigger one, flew past on her left.

“Good-sized ones,” the ex-seminarian replied.

“Good enough,” Sweaty said as she steadied at 500 Feet. She, too, headed northwest, before finding the CO's element. Now, are the MiGs coming, she wondered.

“Four in hot!” Hoser called. He watched as his element lead made her run, and saw the results. Hoser picked out the east side of the truck park, where the photos had shown fuel trucks and bladders. As he came down, he saw not just the fuel trucks, but also the flak. Ignoring the tracers as well as a couple of shoulder-fired missiles, Hoser lined up the trucks in his pipper as they grew larger. “Steady... Steady... And.. And... HACK!” He hit his pickle button, releasing his own Mark-82s and M-117s onto the truck park. Hoser then pulled up and away, and just like Sweaty, jjnked as he did, crossing U.S. 377 and then picking up his element lead. “Four's off target.”


“Of all the..” the Colonel said as Hoser's F-4 came down. The truck park again, he saw at once. He watched as the F-4 laid its bombs down onto a part of the truck park not hit, and saw that was fuel was stored, for several orange-red fireballs came up almost at once. The Colonel swore again, loudly, then one of the Cubans that were part of his command came to him.

“Comrade Colonel, is it always this bad?” The Cuban lieutenant, who wore the uniform insignia of a Political Officer, asked. He'd never been under this kind of air attack before, even in Cuba.

“I wouldn't know,” the Colonel replied. “This is my first.” His training then kicked in. “Get parties out to aid the wounded, and send a runner to the nearest East German command point. Request all possible assistance. Go!”

“Comrade Colonel!”


“BULLSEYE!” KT shouted from the back seat. “And there's secondaries!”

“How good?” Hoser asked as an SA-6 flew by overhead, missing by at least a thousand feet.

“Big and good!” KT said, ducking as an SA-7 flew past on the right.

“I'll take that,” Hoser said. He then settled on his northwest course, picking up Sweaty as he did.

“Four in and out,” Guru said in 520. “One-five and One-seven, get your asses down and clear.”

“Roger, Lead,” Dave Golen called, then he and Flossy got down low and followed the strike flight out.

“Copy, Lead,” Paul Jackson said. He and Karen McKay dropped down, picking up Dave Golen's element as both egressed, drawing some MANPADS shots as they did. Then they picked up the CO's strike element.

In 512, Guru looked to his right. Kara was just coming in to join him. He watched her give a thumbs-up, and Guru returned it. “Sweaty?”

“Coming on your six, and I brought Hoser with me,” Sweaty called back.

“Copy that,” Guru said. He then got on the IC. “Goalie, how long to the Fence?” That was the front lines, and that meant the I-20.

“Thirty-four miles,” she replied, checking ARNIE. “Three and a half minutes.”

“Got it,” said Guru. “Crystal Palace, Mustang Lead,” he called the AWACS. “Say threats.”

“Mustang Lead, Crystal Palace,” the controller responded. “First threat bearing Two-four-zero for thirty-five. Medium, closing. Second threat bearing Two-four-five for forty-five. Medium, closing. Third threat bearing One-eight-five for sixty. Medium, closing.”

“Copy all,” Guru said. “Say Bogey Dope?”

“Mustang,” said the controller. “First threats are Fishbeds. Second threats are Fulcrums, and third are Flankers.”

Goalie heard that. “Well, now, they care.”

“Lead, Two,” Kara called. “They cared to send the best.” She was referring to the MiG-29s and Su-27s.

Then Dave Golen called the CO. “Lead, Five. Do you want us to take the Fishbeds?” He meant the MiG-21s.

“Three minutes,” Goalie advised.


“Mustang Lead, Crystal Palace,” the AWACS called. “Fishbeds now twenty miles, and.. Wait one. Fishbeds now turning away. Now twenty-two miles and going away.”

“MiGs don't want to play down low,” Dave Golen observed.

“This low, it's our game,” Kara said. Even with only two Sparrows and a full gun load, she was lightly loaded, and would've given a MiG-21 a real fight.

The AWACS controller called again. “Mustang, Crystal Palace. Fulcrums now turning away.”

Guru glanced at his RWR display. The MiG-29 radars showed for a brief moment, then went off. But the Mainstay's signal was still there. “Mainstay must not have us,” he said on the IC.

“To be hoped for,” Goalie said. “Two minutes,” she added.

“Roger that,” Guru said as the Texas Hill Country flew by below, with State Highway 16 off to the left. Here, it was the boundary between the Soviet 32nd Army to the west and the East Germans, and from their point of view, it was a porous one. No air-defense radars came up to either side, as if the defenders in both were either napping or not paying attention.

“Thirty seconds,” advised Goalie.

“Copy.”

It wasn't long until the twin ribbons of concrete that were Interstate 20 appeared. “Crossing the Fence...now,” Goalie said.

“Flight, Lead,” Guru called the Flight. “Music off and IFF on, out.” Just then, the Mainstay signal went off the display, and the SEARCH light went off. “And no more Mainstay.”

“For now,” said Goalie, exasperation in her voice.

“Yeah,” Guru said. He, too, had the same tone in his voice, and wanted those Mainstays gone for good.


Once clear of the Interstate, the Flight then climbed back to altitude, before heading to the tanker track. Thirsty F-4s then hooked up to KC-135s and KC-10s, then drank some fuel. After that, the crews headed back to Sheppard.

After arriving in the pattern, Guru was advised by the Tower that Mustang was fourth in line. A Marine four-ship of F-4s, a Navy one of A-7s from VA-135, after that, the Eastbound C-141 cargo shuttle, then it was their turn.


They came in on Runway 35C, and as they taxied clear and popped their canopies, those waiting on the flight line were disappointed that no one held up fingers to signal kills. “If you think they're disappointed, I sure am,” Guru said. He wanted to get #9 and tie Kara for Top Gun in the squadron. Though a controlling factor was that he knew full well that kind of fever got people killed.

“If you're disappointed, then Kara's downright pissed,” Goalie reminded him.

“Oh, yeah,” Guru noted as they taxied towards their squadron's dispersal area.

After finding their area, the pilots taxied into their revetments. When Guru found 512's, Sergeant Crowley signaled him in, and once in, he gave the “STOP” signal. After the CO hit the brakes, the ground crew came out with the wheel chocks, and Crowley himself brought the crew ladder. Both pilot and WSO went through the post-flight checklist, and only then did they take off their helmets and climb down from the aircraft.

“How'd it go, Sir, Ma'am?” Crowley asked as he handed a bottle of water each to both crewers.

“Blew away a 'Liberation Radio' station, Guru said as Goalie downed some water, then went to the Pave Spike to get the videotape.

“Shit hot, sir!” Crowley said. “You guys can put the heat on Moscow Martha or her cousin Maggie anytime.” He handed Guru's bush hat to the CO and waited for Goalie.

“Glad to oblige,” Goalie said, standing up, videotape in hand. “We do need to play more with those smart bombs.” She took her hat from the Crew Chief.

Guru nodded as he finished his water. “That we do,” he said, seeing Kara and Brainiac at the revetment entrance. “We got time for one more strike, Sarge,” he nodded. “Get her prepped.”

Crowley nodded back, then said to his ground crew, “All right, people! You heard the Major! Let's get this bird prepped for one more run.”

As both Guru and Goalie left the revetment and the ground crew to their tasks, they went to Kara and Brainiac at the entrance, with Sweaty, Preacher, Hoser, and KT coming up. “Well, that was different,” the CO nodded.

Kara nodded back. “That it was,” she said. “Not every day we get to use the intellectual bombs. And those trucks got blasted into the next county. In pieces.”

“And so did the transmitter truck and antenna,” Guru finished. “How'd you guys do, Sweaty?”

Sweaty grinned. “Tore up the truck park, and the fuel truck area got turned into a not-so towering inferno.”
Hoser laughed a little at that. He had said those exact words to Sweaty when they met after landing.

“So,” Dave Golen said after he, Flossy, and their GIBs arrived. “Not a shot fired, and we still did our job.”

“Disappointed, Dave?” Kara asked, sipping from her own bottle of water. He had seven kills over here,
but blended with his score from both 1973 and 1982, made him a double ace, she knew.

The IDF Major shook his head no. “Same thing happens when we fly escort for Athena,” he said, referring to Capt. Sharon Valerri-Park and her RF-4C. “We've never been jumped by MiGs.”

“Yet,” Flossy added.

Just then, Dave Gledhill and the RAF crewers arrived. “Interesting thing, that. SA-6 was supposed to be a bad thing. They shot two and didn't guide.”

“Dave Golen sent a 'MAGNUM' call,” Flossy said, seeing him grin.

“Ah,”

Chief Ross then pulled up in a Dodge Crew-Cab pickup and got out. “Major,” the Chief said. “Captain Licon sends his compliments, and wants to debrief. He says the XO and Ops Officer are still out, and so far, nobody's told him anything about CAS.”

Guru nodded. So Mark and Don are still out. Fine. “All right, Chief. People, let's make Sin happy at the debrief, then you all need to check your desks, then get in a workout, even if it's just a few miles on the treadmill.”

“Still might get CAS?” Kara asked, picking up her helmet.

“Wouldn't surprise me,” Guru replied. “Been a while since we dodged that bullet.”

Heads nodded at that. Everyone in the squadron loathed CAS runs, even if they had gotten to be very good at the tasking. They would rather be hassling with MiGs, ripping up an airfield or supply dump, or finding a convoy on a road someplace and tearing it up with CBUs. CAS? Let the HOGs, Scooters, and SLUFs handle that. It was their job, anyway. “So, if we do get CAS...” Goalie wondered.

“Time for one more run,” Guru said. “Let's mount up and go make Sin happy. Then take care of the other stuff.”

The crewers mounted up in the truck, either in the cab or the bed. Hopefully, they didn't get the call for CAS, and the squadron could finish up the ATO. At least, that's what they were hoping for.

[jemhouston]

Your tax dollars at work

[Wolfman]

Slight continuity error: you said that there wasn’t a convoy on the first bridge the flight crossed, but when they’re crossing the third bridge, it’s mentioned that there was a convoy on the first bridge when they see the convoy on the third bridge…

[Bernard Woolley]

That's quite an extreme way to complain about the content of a radio station!

[Belushi TD]

Oh, no, no......

Its a mild way of complaining.

Look at it this way... They were unaware of the objection until the objection was registered. Completely democratic and socialist.

Belushi TD

[Wolfman]

Nothing of value was lost!