The Last War: Chapter 379.

[Bernard Woolley]

With thanks to Matt W and Jotun.

*

D+30

*

2301 hours. Royal Marines Base Poole, Dorset.
Sergeant Duncan Falconer had been surprised when his patrol had received a message to meet a helicopter RV. They had not been due for resupply for some time yet. He had been even more surprised when the Lynx that had picked them up flew to the closest airfield and they had been transferred to an RAF Hercules C.5. Falconer had recognised another four-man patrol from C Squadron, who were already aboard the transport. As they were asleep, he had decided not to bother them. Another helicopter had flown the eight men from RAF Lyneham to RMB Poole, the home of the SBS.

With the majority of the SBS deployed abroad, Falconer had expected Poole to be quiet. Instead, he found it was busy with ‘Booties’ from across the SBS, some marines from non-SF units, personnel from several NATO maritime SOF units and even members of the SAS’ Boat Troops. Evidently something ‘Very Big’ was being planned.

*

“Good evening, gentlemen.” Lieutenant General Robert Fry, RM said to the assembled operators. “Sorry to drag you away from your existing missions, but we have a very important new one for you.

Fry had, until 2004, been the Commandant General of the Royal Marines, and had been appointed to command the new NATO Allied Special Operations Forces Command (SOFCOM). Which had been raised during the Transition to War, when it had been realised that there was a need for a body to co-ordinate the use of SOF. Fry had served in the SBS earlier in his career and had been available, which made him the natural choice. While it had a British commander, most of SOFCOM would be made up of personnel from the United States. [1]

“We’ve brought you together to mount a raid against a coastal target vital to the enemy’s operations in the Baltic. The raid will also serve to send a message to the Soviets that nowhere is safe.”
“Christ, they’re sending us to Moscow.” Falconer muttered, half seriously.

Despite his efforts to keep his comment under his breath, Fry heard what Falconer had said.

“Not quite, whoever that was. But up there.” The general indicated that an image should be brought up on a display on the wall behind him.

Falconer took in the map and satellite photograph that appeared and sucked in his breath sharply.

“Jesus, that’s Kaliningrad!” An American voice exclaimed.
“It’s fuckin’ suicide!” An Irish voice added.

Fry let the hubbub die down before continuing.

“Yes, it is and no, I don’t believe it’s suicide.” He said. “I don’t believe in suicide missions.”

The general spent the next hour going through the plan, referring to further maps and images of the naval base and city of Kaliningrad. Once he had finished, he spent a further hour answering what questions he could from sceptical operators.

*

“Have to say, Sir, I don’t think you convinced all of them.” Lt. Colonel Aidan Scott, RM, the C.O of the SBS said.

Fry had repaired to the latter’s office for a cup of tea and a quick chat after the briefing.

“They don’t have to be convinced that it’s a good plan, Aidan. They just have to believe we’re going to mount it in the next few days. They’re probably right that it would be a suicide mission. The four tank and motor rifle divisions and Naval Infantry Regiment based there in peacetime may have been deployed to Germany, but the Oblast is now garrisoned by a similar number of mobilisation divisions along with a lot of MVD troops.” He paused to drink some of his tea. “I would hesitate to raid it with the entirety of 3 Commando Brigade; would probably take a Sceptic marine division.”
“Then what’s the point, Sir?” Scott asked.

Fry set his mug down on Scott’s desk.

“The Soviets call it Maskirovka. We just simply call it deception. Although, that’s probably not an adequate translation. There’s a leak somewhere passing some of our plans to the Soviets. We’ll have a better idea of where it is if the Soviets react to this apparent plan. By that time, the team will have relocated to Sweden, and we’ll be able to brief them on what the real plan is.”

2305 hours GMT. Over Oldenburg, FRG.
The air battle over northern Germany was turning into a chaotic furball. The NATO fighters already airborne when it had begun had by now all expended their medium range missiles and had pulled back to allow the aircraft scrambled to engage. From what Fighter Controllers aboard Sentries and in bunkers on the ground could tell, the Warsaw Pact seemed to have committed the majority of its fighter strength to a sweep across the Norwest part of West Germany. To what aim, they were not sure but could make educated guesses. More NATO fighters were drawn into the melee as it moved west, with even the RAF’s 11 Group getting peripherally involved, moving its CAPs forward to replace Dutch and Belgian fighters. To add to the confusion, the commander of a Dutch Patriot SAM flight chose to fire a salvo of missiles. Three Soviet fighters, a Belgian F-16 and French Rafale, and an East German Mig-29 were shot down before he was ordered to cease and desist. As he was causing more problems than he was solving.

*

“We’re almost in missile range, Paul.” Oberleutnant When reported.”
“Okay, Henning. Light them up…now!” Squadron Leader Jackson replied.

When illuminated the Phantom’s APG-65 radar. In the time it ‘sorted’ the targets in front of it, the aircraft and that of its wingman passed into AMRAAM range.

“Fox Three!” Jackson announced as he fired the first missile. “Fox Three!”

The two Phantoms turned away to avoid and return fire. Jackson led his wingman to the south, intending to turn back and re-attack from a different direction. He was turning back when suddenly something flashed across the nose of the F-4F.

“Oh, sh*t!” Jackson managed to exclaim as be pulled back on the stick, hoping to avoid a collision.

It was too late. The port wing of the Phantom sliced through the tail of the mystery aircraft. Ripping both off. Jackson pulled hard on the ejection handle as he felt his aircraft coming apart on him, initiating the ejection sequence for both him and When.

*

The air battle was getting beyond the ability of those on the ground and AWACS aircraft to control. There were just too many aircraft in a relatively small bit of airspace. Even the sophisticated computer systems meant to help support the Fighter Controllers and senior officers were getting overwhelmed. Collisions, like the one suffered by Jackson and When had suffered, while not uncommon, were thankfully low. Though, they were generally happening because Fighter Controllers were finding it hard to spot where aircraft were getting dangerously close. There was also now a continuous cacophony of ‘BEEP! BEEP!’ from emergency beacons.

*

The commander of JSTARS 93-0597 was beginning to become concerned. While the aircraft’s mission was to monitor ground activity, he could not ignore the air battle taking place to the east. One of the most frustrating things of the moment was the near constant alarm of the aircraft’s RWR, which was picking up dozens of radars illuminating the E-8C. Even if it was just for a moment.

“Mission Commander, Aircraft Commander, our close escort has just taken off like a bat out of hell. We got a problem?”

The JSTARS had been assigned a pair of F-16C to provide close escort. Now the Vipers had departed at speed, heading east.

“Stand-by Aircraft Commander, I’m checking.” The Mission Commander replied.

The Mission Commander radioed the Sector Controller personally. Expressing concern that they were now un-escorted.

“Suggest you alter your orbit to the west immediately. There is no immediate threat to your aircraft, but bandits are pushing west. Over.”
“Roger that.” The Mission Commander replied. “Aircraft Commander, take us west, you may manoeuvre at your discretion.”
“Will do. Make sure you’ve got everything secure back there, as we may be making a few sharp…oh, sh*! Something has locked us up!”

The Aircraft Commander turned the E-8C sharply away from the threat, while the co-pilot pushed the four throttles to the stops. The AC put the aircraft into a series of diving corkscrew manoeuvres. In the rear cabin, the Mission Commander was glad he was securely strapped in and was just able to grab his half-full coffee cup before it became airborne. The aircraft’s ECM attempted to jam the radars of whatever was targeting it, while as the threat closed in, the E-8C began to pump out chaff and flares.
As the J-STARS began another sharp turn to starboard to begin a new series of corkscrews there was a loud bang, which shook the aircraft. It was suddenly flipped over to the left.

2310 hours GMT. Old harbour, Reykjavík, Iceland.
Commander, Iceland Defense Force, Rear Admiral Vincent Harris, USN, felt that he had more important things to do than meet the Director General of the Icelandic Coast Guard at the capital’s Old harbour this late at night.
Harris felt that efforts to get more air defence for the island was much more important. While the Secretary of Defense had assured the admiral that he would do his best to get more GBAD assets, there had been no news since the arrival of the USAF detachment equipped with MIM-120. The detachment had been very welcome, and its presence now meant that NAS Keflavik was far better protected, Harris felt that the three surviving radar sites of the Iceland Air Defence System were still vulnerable. He had sent multiple messaged to ACLANT and had even spoken to SACLANT himself. After much prodding, Harris had been offered some M167 VADS, or Bofors 40mm L/70. But only if he could man them from his own resources.

*

As the car carrying Harris approached the Old harbour, it halted at a checkpoint manned by the Icelandic Police and personnel from the Coast Guard Security Company. While he was being cleared through the checkpoint, the admiral observed a variety of weapons in the hands of the Coast Guard, from modern G3 battle rifles and MP5 SMG, to old M1 carbines and even First World War era Lee-Enfield rifles.

After clearing the checkpoint, the admiral was driven to the harbour, where he found the Director General, a Rear Admiral, and a civilian dressed in the garb of an Icelandic fisherman, waiting for him.

“I am sorry to drag you out here in the middle of the night, but my colleague has only just returned to port, and I felt that his proposal was an important one.” The Director General said, before introducing the civilian as a representative of the Icelandic fishing trawler industry.
“A pleasure to meet you, Sir.” Rear Admiral Harris replied. “How can I help?”
“We have observed that our counterparts in the British and other European fishing fleets have been helping the war effort by getting rid of mines…” He paused and looked at the Director General and asked something in Icelandic.
“Minesweeping, or mine-clearance.” The Director General supplied.
“Yes, yes, sweeping of mines. We have also heard that there is a general shortage of suitable vessels for this job, despite the fishing fleets helping out. We have a number of large and small vessels and many willing peoples who we think can help.”

Harris thought for a moment.

“I understand that the fish caught by the Icelandic fishing fleet is important in the supply of food to both Iceland and Western Europe. While I’m sure your offer would be well received and I am personally grateful for it, would it impact on the fish supply?”
“We think we can continue to do both, Admiral.” The fisherman replied. “It would mean that some of us would need to work even harder than normal and for longer, but.” He shrugged. “That is the life of a fisherman. We would like to offer you twelve large ocean-going trawlers and a similar number of smaller coastal vessels to begin with. They are all powerful enough to tow what you use to sweep mines.”
“I will pass your offer on to my superiors, with my recommendation that it be accepted.” Harris said. “You do know that sweeping mines is a highly dangerous task? There’s a high chance of death.”

The fisherman shrugged again.

“Fishing in the North Atlantic is dangerous, Admiral. The ocean, she is a harsh mistress. We lose people to injury and death every year. What is one more danger?”

2331 hours GMT. USS Kitty Hawk, The Arabian Gulf.
For the ships of the Fifth Fleet, it had been a decent two days. Not just the stand-down dictated by the sandstorm, but two days of relatively relaxed ops. The necessary UNREP had been taken care of, while some training with the UAE Air Force had gone ahead, preparing the way for the UAE’s formal entry into the war. It had also been a time to get some much-needed aircraft and ship maintenance chores done, and for some time off for the aircrews and ships’ companies to be enjoyed, including a Steel Beach. While some ships had been able to get crew ashore as they had to dock either in Bahrain or Dubai, and those who had the good luck to have shore time were envied.

While going about the stand-down, the air wings on both Kitty Hawk and Nimitz had been able to absorb some needed replacements of both aircraft and aircrew. The Intruder and Hornet squadrons had taken the bulk of the losses, and while not all the aircraft losses had been replaced, there were enough to satisfy the various squadron commanders. The crew replacements were a mix, with some fresh from training at the RAG, either Whidbey Island or Lemoore, while a few were experienced hands who had either been in Training Command, RAG instructor pilots or NFOs, or had been in nonflying jobs and had requalified to get back into the air. Everyone had a chance for two or three daytime cat shots and traps, and that all-important night trap, prior to being put on their respective squadrons’ flight schedule.

Now, though, it was time to get back into the game.

In the VA-115 Ready Room, the XO was in his office, going over the frag order for his strike. Back to the MEZ again, he thought. At least I don’t have any nuggets (first-cruise aircrew) on this one, Commander Matt Wiser said to himself. The same team he had worked with on numerous occasions in the past month would be back together, and he was pleased at that. As he read the frag order, looking at his target, he recognized it from 1991.

“The old ‘Baby Milk Factory’” Guru said aloud. Well, this time, we’ll put it out of business for good. Then came a knock on the door. “Yeah? Come on in and show yourself! Door’s open!”

The CO, Commander John Compton, came in.

“XO.”
“Skipper.” Guru replied. “Overheard the brief, and CAG’s going with you.”
“He’s flying with the Freelancers today, and he wrote himself in on this one.”

Guru’s eyebrow rose.

“That’s his prerogative. Last time he flew on a strike I was on was BAGHDAD THUNDER.”

Compton nodded.

“He hasn’t gotten any MiGs since the H-2 strike, and I think he’s hungry for more.”
“You think?” Replied the XO. “Skipper, the last thing we need is a CAG with ace fever. Especially with Gardner now as DCAG.”

Guru was referring to the new Deputy CAG, an officer that he had not cared to serve under in the past and was not looking forward to working with the man again.

“Which leads me to my next point.” Compton said.

Seeing his XO nod, he continued.

“Gardner’s out as DCAG. He’ll be beached sometime today. CAG told him not to bother with unpacking. They’ll find something for him at Fifth Fleet or the Navy desk at CENTCOM in Doha.”

Good, Guru thought, but he didn’t say it aloud.

“CAG say why, Skipper?”
“Two reasons: he’s not A-6F qualified, for one. He looks good on paper, which is probably why BuPers sent him here, but...” Compton said.
“The E and the F are two different animals.” Guru pointed out.

“As we both know.” Compton agreed.

Both had come up in the A-6E in the 1990s before qualifying on the F. In Compton’s case, he had been in VA-155 on Ranger when the squadron made the transition, while Guru had gone to the F when his NAVAIRPAC tour ended.

“That’s one reason. The other is his lack of respect for people who didn’t go to Annapolis, along with an actual complaint against him, two hours after he arrived.”
“What?” Guru then thought for a moment. “I get it. The basketball game.”

He was referring to a pickup basketball game the Eagles had had with the Black Knights of VF-154 on the Steel Beach Day. CAG had brought Captain Gardner to the game while showing him around the ship, and Guru not only noticed a scowl on the man’s face-along with him being the only one in Tropical Whites, while everyone else was in sports attire, or in CAG’s case, his flight suit.

“And he said something he shouldn’t.” It wasn’t a question.

The CO nodded.

“Bingo. Four female officers signed it, and that was that. He’ll be on the next COD to Bahrain.”
“And we get a new Deputy CAG in a few days, another squadron CO is the acting Deputy, and we go on with the war.”
“You said it, XO.”

Guru nodded.

“Okay, Skipper. I’m headed into the MEZ on my first one, and I’ve taken your advice on no joining our shipmates in Baghdad, especially Lisa.” He was referring to his girlfriend, a POW in Baghdad. “But Skipper, I’m speaking as XO to CO, and as a trusted friend. Are you headed into the MEZ today?”
“Right after we finish this talk.” Said Compton.
“All right, you need to take your own advice. The Baghdad Hilton’s accommodations are piss-poor, the room service is appalling, and the recreational activities are too strenuous for anyone’s taste. I don’t want to come back from a strike and find out I just got a new job.”

Commander Compton nodded.

“Do my best, XO. You have a good one.”

“You too, Skipper. See you in a while.” Both then shook hands, then the CO headed out to gear up.

After Compton left, the XO had a few minutes before the brief. He reviewed the frag order. “So, the old Baby Milk Factory turned BW Facility from back in ‘91,” he said aloud. He then noted the assigned loadout for the mission. “This won’t be last time, when F-117s just punched a couple of holes in the roof with laser bombs.” He checked it again. Four A-6s with six Mark-83 1,000 lb-bombs per airplane would more than likely flatten the place. “Baby Milk Factory?” Guru said to himself. “That’ll be the day.” He then went into the Ready Room to get ready for the brief.

2341 hours GMT. Tartu Air Base, Estonian SSR.
The aborted attack on Stockholm and military targets in southern Sweden had been rescheduled and now Tu-22M4 of the 132nd Heavy Bomber Aviation Regiment were taxying to the runway to take off. The first wave of the strike would be armed with Kh-26 missiles, a mix of N and MP variants. These older missiles had been found in storage and armourers had pronounced them safe to use. The second wave would be armed with eighteen FAB-500 free-fall bombs. The intention was that the missiles from the first wave would supress or at least distract the enemy defences so that the bomb armed Tu-22M could reach their targets.
Generál-leytenánt Vitaly Zdorovetskiy had managed to obtain the services of eight Su-27 from the V-PVO’s 656th Fighter Aviation Regiment. It had taken some persuasion to get the air defence force to assign aircraft to escort bombers outside their normal area of operations. However, after it had been pointed out that no aircraft from the VVS were available, the commander of the V-PVO had agreed.

*

Having decided that he had spent quite enough time in the H.Q of the 326th Heavy Bomber Aviation Division sending young men to their deaths, Generál-leytenánt Zdorovetskiy had decided to lead the mission himself. If it turned out that the Kh-26 missiles were faulty, then he would pay the same price as the crews he had sent out with them.

Zdorovetskiy’s bomber led the aircraft of the regiment into the air. The missile armed Tu-22M4 formed up and headed west, intending to clear a path for their ‘iron bomb’ armed comrades. The bombers and the eight Su-27s were picked up by a Swedish Air Force S 100B Argus and Swedish ground radars a short time later. Aircraft on Combat Air Patrol had already been alerted by the time ground radars detected the raiders and additional ground alert Gripens were launched. Ground Based Air Defences were also put on alert, as were the civil defence authorities.

The general reflected on the fact that the range of the Kh-26 missiles would have allowed his bombers to launch while still over Soviet territory. However, to give them the best chance of reaching their targets he was not going to launch until the first wave was well over the Baltic. Besides, if the missiles were faulty, he would rather they malfunctioned over water.

*

Kapten Lars Karlsson was one of the pilots of the ground alert fighters. Normally based at Ronneby Air Base, as part of the F17 Kallinge wing, Karlsson had led a detachment of six Gripens to Uppsala. Their job was to backfill for aircraft from 16 Wing, who were operating over Finland. On arrival at Uppsala, Karlsson had spotted some unfamiliar aircraft wearing the pale blue and red roundels of the British Royal Air Force. He had made sure that he and his detachment had familiarised himself with how they looked, just in case they encountered them in the air. Karlsson had also taken the opportunity to speak to the British fliers.

Now Karlsson and his wingman were rocketing skywards from the base, clawing for altitude. Some of the British aircraft were also now taxying towards the runway to join their Swedish allies.

2345 hours GMT. Haakonsvern Naval Base, Norway.
The Royal Marine crewed LCU Mark 10 and LCVP Mark 5B had been making their way slowly, but steadily south through the Norwegian fjords. They could have been transported much more quickly by their parent amphibious vessels, but it was almost certain that the Soviets would have spotted the movement. Formations of similar American and Dutch vessels had also been following a similar route. Mainly sailing at night and lying up during the day. The stop at the main Royal Norwegian Naval Base would be their last before they headed for the location from where they would load troops and equipment. Following a day behind them were USN LCAC and RM LCAC(L). Being faster than conventional landing craft, they would be able to catch up at the last moment and arrive at the mounting point at the same time as the slower craft.

The landing craft dropped anchor and began to take on fuel and supplies. Once that was done, they were moved out of the naval base to more remote anchorages. Once there they were camouflaged and would lie up during the day before setting off for the final part of their journey.

2348 hours GMT. Excerpt from a report of the of the Defence Medical Statistics and Reporting Institute on the killing of Bundeswehr personnel by their own troops.
“[…] In summation, roughly three percent of battlefield casualties can be laid at the feet of what is commonly called ‘fratricide’, ‘friendly fire’ or ‘blue on blue’. This per-centage is at the lower end of the statistics from previous wars [Refer to Attachment 1 for details], and is – as sad as it may seem to the casual observer - a byproduct of the “Fog of War”, attributable to human and/or technical error of manifold combinations and origins, the steadily advancing technical means of reconnaissance and target recognition notwithstanding.

However, a not insignificant subset of the KIA/fallen servicepersons appear, even after cursory inspection, to have deliberately been killed – or “fragged”, to use the American English colloquialism - by their own troops. During the first twenty-eight days of the war, no less than 269 personnel, nobody lower in rank than Unteroffizier, were killed in a way that strongly suggests deliberation by the troops under their command, as evidenced by autopsies conducted by the various field autopsy units.

Examples include gunshot wounds by NATO calibre small arms to the back, often contact wounds, explosion and or fragmentation trauma by NATO handheld explosive ordnance or unexplained killings by HTH weaponry in areas where no such fighting took place.

Preliminary investigations by liaison personnel seconded from the various district attorneys’ offices and criminal police [2] suggest that most of the leadership personnel were regarded as “martinets”, “deadbeats”, “empty shirts” and the like, who appear to more often than not have directly endangered their subordinate troops by bad, belated or non-existent decision making or outright cowardice, leading to unnecessary losses.

Taking into account the nature of large scale armed conflict that more often than not renders committed illegal killings undetectable, the hidden figures might well be significantly higher.
Due to the military and political situation, it is strongly suggested to NOT investigate further, let alone initiate criminal charges at least as long as hostilities are ongoing, to a) avoid disruption of unit cohesion and b) not unduly endanger the investigators, except for open-and-shut cases with enough witnesses and physical evidence.”

2350 hours GMT. Over Oldenburg, FRG.
The flight deck of 93-0597 was a cacophony of alarms and flashing warning lights as the aircraft continued to roll left.

“I’m losing it!” The AC called out as he turned the yoke all the way right. “Give me a hand!” He told the Co-Pilot. “We need to get her upright again!”
“We’ve lost Number One and there’s a fire on Number Two!” The Flight Engineer reported.

Struggling against G-Forces, the Flight Engineer managed to reach up and pull the fire handle on both the Number One and Two engines. Cutting off the fuel to both TF-33s and firing the fire extinguishers.

“Presuming I can get her back under control, I’m gonna need a good option to put her down.” The AC said to the Navigator. “What’s the nearest option?”
“Uh…closest is Bremen. It’s civil but has long enough runways and good emergency facilities.” The Navigator replied.
“Right, Bremen it is.” The AC decided. “Damn, in all this chaos we haven’t put out a Mayday yet.”

*

Controllers on the ground had spotted two high-speed targets closing on the E-8C, but too late to give a warning. They had seen one target decoyed before the second merged with the trace of the JSTARS. They had feared the worst as the aircraft had begun to descend rapidly and the Mayday call was something of a relief.

“Clear them to Bremen.” The Senior Controller ordered. “Keep everything else out of their way. By the way, what the f*ck hit them?”
“Can only have been an AA-13 Axehead, Sir.” One of the other control staff replied. “Think I’ve tracked the missiles back to the shooters.”
“Well, that’s something. Warn the other AWACS and J-STARS birds to be on the alert. In fact, let’s move them west now!”

*

The flight crew of the E-8 had managed to get the aircraft upright again, although it still wanted to roll over into its dead engines. Requiring both pilots to fight against the plane with both yoke and right rudder pedal.

“Feels like we might have some structural problems on the port wing. Bob, can you go back to the cabin and see what you can?” The Aircraft Commander asked the Navigator.
“On it.”

The Navigator returned a few moments later, looking pale.

“The Number One engine is gone; I mean just not there anymore. Looks like Number Two got hit by a bunch of fragments. The last metre or two of the port wing is gone too and I could see more fragmentation damage along the trailing edge. Might have damaged the flaps.”
“Could you see any fuel, or hydraulic fluid leaking?”
“No, not that I could see.”
“Okay, that’s something.” The AC replied. “Get strapped back in, this isn’t going to be fun.” He picked up the interphone to speak to the crew in the main cabin. “AC to crew, get yourselves securely strapped in, the landing is going to be rough. Also, make sure that any loose objects are secured. When we’re about to land, we’ll give the brace warning and be ready to evacuate as soon as we come to a halt.”

Once the Navigator was back in his chair, the flight crew began their landing checklist. The Co-pilot having brought out the chart for Bremen International Airport.

“Okay, let’s take our time with this and get it right.” The AC told his crew. “We’re only going to get one chance at this, with no go-around. Any questions before we start our approach?”
“I guess it’s too late to ask for a transfer?” The Flight Engineer wondered, a smile on his face.

The Aircraft Commander chuckled despite their precarious position.

“There’s a fair chance we’ll be getting a whole different sort of wings and a Permanent Change of Station. But let’s do our best to put this wounded bird on the ground. There’s a lot of people counting on us.”

***

[1] In @ SOFCOM was not formed until 2010; see link. However, in the opinion of the author a command would have been needed for the TLW scenario.

[2] In the Bundeswehr, criminal investigations and further measures are conducted by the civilian authorities. There is no such thing as a JAG corps, and the Military Police have no such authority.

[Bernard Woolley]

Accompanying Pictures

[Lordroel]

Another good update.

[jemhouston]

I will admit having a dedicated long-range missile for high value targets is a great idea.

Back in the 80s, the USN was looking at SLAT, Surface Launch Air Targeted hypersonic missile. I don't think it got off the drawing board. It was to take out Bear targeting aircraft and AWACS.

Wonder what the other plane in the collision was.

[Jotun]

I will admit having a dedicated long-range missile for high value targets is a great idea.

Back in the 80s, the USN was looking at SLAT, Surface Launch Air Targeted hypersonic missile. I don't think it got off the drawing board. It was to take out Bear targeting aircraft and AWACS.

Wonder what the other plane in the collision was.

In the wrong place? Everything else is not important

[Eaglenine2]

Who was Sergeant Duncan Falconer again?

[Jotun]

Who was Sergeant Duncan Falconer again?

Did a lot of amphibious stuff up in Norway, including extracting the crew of a Norwegian coastal fort.

[Matt Wiser]

It lives! Glad to see an update, and always glad to be of service. BZ as usual, and so to business at hand:

Soviets pride themselves on Maskirovka, so two can play at that game. And a decent way to ferret out a leak.

This fight in the air has the makings of a barroom brawl. At night with the lights out, one may add. Collisions and fratricide incidents are inevitable... And that J-STARS crew had better have a higher power looking out for them. New wings and a PCS set of orders are what they don't need or want.

That offer from the Icelandic fishermen is too good to pass up. They also know the hazards of the sea in peacetime.

Two things CVW-5 doesn't need: a CAG with ace fever and a DCAG that many won't be comfortable working with.

AS-6 might just work... We'll see.

Good work, and get cracking on 380!

[Matt Wiser]

And the target Guru is musing over: the alleged "Baby Milk Factory" from ODS.

[Rocket J Squrriel]

Bravo Zulu and when is the next one!

How many E-8s are there are there world wide? I figure losing any will cause a heart attack or two. For that matter, how E-3s?

[Johnnie Lyle]

I will admit having a dedicated long-range missile for high value targets is a great idea.

Back in the 80s, the USN was looking at SLAT, Surface Launch Air Targeted hypersonic missile. I don't think it got off the drawing board. It was to take out Bear targeting aircraft and AWACS.

Wonder what the other plane in the collision was.

In the wrong place? Everything else is not important

Depends on whether your character or avatar is also flying over East West Germany

[James1978]

How many E-8s are there are there world wide? I figure losing any will cause a heart attack or two. For that matter, how E-3s?

USAF (Pre-War)
E-3B/C - 33
E-8 - 17

Other E-3 Operators (Pre-War)
NATO - 17
UK - 7
France - 4
Saudi Arabia - 5

A321 AGS
NATO - 2

Sentinel R.1
UK - 5 (?)

[James1978]

Good chapter!

I see pieces being moved into place to correct an early war wrong. Interesting.

Given it's D+30, I'm a little surprised the replacement aircrew for Kitty Hawk and Nimitz are only coming from PACFLT RAGs. Just seems a little too formal.

I'm a little surprised the Soviets aren't using an early version of the UMPK or JDAMski in lieu of Tu-22Ms dropping iron directly over their targets. Both are possible at this time in a continued CW scenario.

I'm curious who the AA-13 shooters were. Gut says Su-35, but a specialist MiG-31 unit can't be ruled out.
But I do wonder how close a MiG-37 could get to extend the reach.

Keep up the good work.

[Rocket J Squrriel]

Good chapter!

I see pieces being moved into place to correct an early war wrong. Interesting.

Given it's D+30, I'm a little surprised the replacement aircrew for Kitty Hawk and Nimitz are only coming from PACFLT RAGs. Just seems a little too formal.

I'm a little surprised the Soviets aren't using an early version of the UMPK or JDAMski in lieu of Tu-22Ms dropping iron directly over their targets. Both are possible at this time in a continued CW scenario.

I'm curious who the AA-13 shooters were. Gut says Su-35, but a specialist MiG-31 unit can't be ruled out.
But I do wonder how close a MiG-37 could get to extend the reach.

Keep up the good work.

I've been figuring it would be MiG-31s with their radar, missiles, and speed going after the high value assets after the fighters punched holes.

Thanks for the plane numbers. Yeah I would say the lost of any E-8s would be a little heartburn'ish to planners.

[Bernard Woolley]

Another good update.

Thank you.

Who was Sergeant Duncan Falconer again?

An NCO in the Special Boat Service.

That offer from the Icelandic fishermen is too good to pass up. They also know the hazards of the sea in peacetime.
<snip>
Good work, and get cracking on 380!

Icelandic fishermen are a tough lot. The North Atlantic is not a fun place to fish. As Sir Walter Scott wrote of the Scottish fishing industry: "It's no fish ye're buying, it's men's lives."
Thanks and will do!

Bravo Zulu and when is the next one!

Thanks ver much and...errr...when it's ready!

Good chapter!

Thanks!

I'm a little surprised the Soviets aren't using an early version of the UMPK or JDAMski in lieu of Tu-22Ms dropping iron directly over their targets. Both are possible at this time in a continued CW scenario.

The UMPK is in short supply at the moment. The 132nd Heavy Bomber Aviation Regiment was just unlucky in that it doesen't have any right now.

I'm curious who the AA-13 shooters were. Gut says Su-35 <snip>

I've been figuring it would be MiG-31s with their radar, missiles, and speed going after the high value assets after the fighters punched holes.

It was a VVS Su-35 unit. The V-PVO is reluctant to lend many aircraft to the VVS. After all, when they leant A-50s, a number were lost. It took a lot of arm-twisting to get them to assign some Su-27 to escort the Tu-22M4s.

Keep up the good work.

Will try my best!