Wolverine and Chiefs

[jemhouston]

SCUDS are to it may concern or junk mail.

[Poohbah]

SCUDS are to it may concern or junk mail.

"Dear OCCUPANT..."

[Wolfman]

SCUDS are to it may concern or junk mail.

"Dear OCCUPANT..."

Too true!

[Poohbah]

SCUDS are to it may concern or junk mail.

"Dear OCCUPANT..."

Too true!

Our division PAO was once asked how accurate the Scuds were.

"On a sufficiently coarse scale, they're extremely accurate, ma'am. They hit the Earth 100% of the time. On a military scale . . . well, if the rockets go up, who cares where they come down? 'That's not my department,' says Werner von Braun."

[Wolfman]

[Matt Wiser]

RL has been in the way, but I'm working on the next piece.

[Wolfman]

Good to know.

[Matt Wiser]

The next chapter, with CAS....


Over North-Central Texas, 1310 Hours Central War Time:


Chevy Flight was in a holding pattern, north of the FEBA. They had found the tanker track over Possum Kingdom Lake, west of Mineral Wells, and after topping up, contacted the AWACS. Crystal Palace had directed them to an EC-130 ABCCC, call sign Hillsboro, which had directed them into that holding pattern. Being told, “Get in line at 15,000 and wait your turn”, for all intents and purposes. Nothing they hadn't done already, the crews knew, but they all disliked waiting for someone to decide where they had to go. This was one of the reasons, among several, that they disliked CAS runs, Essential though they were.

Chevy Lead was orbiting, and in the front seat, Guru was not happy. He looked around and below, and saw several other flights orbiting like they were. Probably diverted from their strikes, he thought. “Same old same old,” he said over the IC.

“And that is?” Goalie replied from the back seat. Just like everyone else in the squadron, she disliked CAS, but knew her pilot and CO had to vent.

“Hurry up and wait,” Guru replied. The old military adage applied even here. “They tell us to bust ass getting south, and...”

“Get in line at fifteen grand and wait our turn,” Goalie finished.

“Yeah,” Guru said. They were now at 12,000, with at least two flights having been passed on to FACs, either airborne or ground. He looked around, scanning for MiGs. What could ruin this party were a flock of MiGs on a sweep supporting whatever Ivan was doing on the ground. A flight of F-15s off to the left, and another on the right, showed that someone else was thinking that, and the Eeagles were there to prevent Ivan from that sort of thing. Two more flights of F-15s, and some F-16s to back them up, gave him some comfort. And that, he knew, everybody in the area shared that as the waiting continued.

“Lead, Starbuck,” Kara called from his right wing. “Anything?”

“Negative, Two,” Guru replied. Though the occasional fireball in the air in the distance showed that somebody was having a bad day. Even their last... As long as it's Ivan and his lackeys, that's fine.

“Chevy Lead, Hillsboro,” the ABCCC called. “Drop to Flight Level One-one-zero and continue to hold. Estimate two minutes to handoff.” That meant they were two minutes from getting a FAC and thus a target.

“Roger, Hillsboro,” Guru called. He put 512 into a shallow dive, leveling out at 11,000 Feet, and the rest of the flight did the same. As they did, a familiar strobe appeared on the EW display, and the SEARCH warning light came on. “Well, guess who's on the air?”

“Mainstay,” Goalie replied. It wasn't a question by her tone of voice.

“Four-decimal-zero,” Guru called back. “Somebody still needs to do something about 'em.”

Before Goalie could answer, the ABCCC called. “Chevy Lead, Hillsboro. Drop to Flight Level One-zero-zero and continue to hold. Estimate One mike to handoff.”

“Roger, Hillsboro.” Guru dropped down to 10,000 and the flight followed. “Hoping he's right,” Guru said as the flight got down to the new altitude.

“Can't wait around all day,” Goalie noted. She glanced up and saw other aircraft orbiting. “Good to be near the front of the line.” She looked around and saw not just artillery fire, but also flak and SAMs from both sides. With fireballs down below as tanks and APCs exploded, and the occasional fireball in the air as someone's air defense found a target.

Then Hillsboro made a call. “Chevy Lead, Hillsboro. Have some trade for you; contact Nail Four-four for tasking.”

“Roger, Hillsboro,” Guru called. He then contacted the FAC. “Nail Four-four, Chevy Lead with six Foxtrot-Four Echoes and two Juliets. How copy?”

The FAC responded immediately. “Chevy Lead, Nail Four-four. Say type of ordnance, please.”

“Nail, Chevy Flight has four with Snakeye Mark Eight-two and Mark One-one-seven. Two have Charlie Bravo Uniform Five-eight. Juliets are loaded for air-to-air.”

“Roger, Chevy. Target is mixed regimental sized force at the intersection of Foxtrot-Mike Two-five-two-six and Two-six-eight-nine. Mixed tanks and mech infantry with artillery.”

“Copy, Nail,” Guru replied as Goalie checked her map. “Can you mark the target, and any Red Air in the area?”

“Can mark, and negative Red air at present. Air-defense threat is regimental level and some divsional. How many runs can you give?”

Beneath his oxygen mask, Guru frowned. How many times do we have to tell these guys that one run is all they get? Annoyed, Guru replied, “Nail, Chevy Lead. One run only. South to North.”

“Your call, Chevy, and marking the target.”

Guru looked around and saw the A-7K that the Fast FAC was in orbited, then made a run, firing several rockets. WP smoke billowed out as the A-7 pulled clear, with some tracers following, but falling short. “Nail, Chevy. Visual on your Willie Pete. Coming around, then we're in hot.”

“Roger, Chevy,” the FAC replied. He watched as six F-4s came in and went south, did a 180, then came in. “Watch for flak in the target area.”

“Copy, Nail.” Guru then called his flight. “Flight, Lead. One run only. Seven and eight, you guys watch for party-crashers and break 'em up. Rest of you on me. Switches on, music on, and let's go.”

“Roger, Lead,” Dave Gledhill replied as the two RAF F-4Js assumed a cover orbit. Kara and the others replied as well as they formed up for their attack runs.

Goalie worked the armament switches in the back seat. “All set back here.” Everything was set to go in one pass. As usual.

“Roger that,” Guru replied as he turned on his ALQ-119 ECM pod. “Ready back there?”

“All set,” Goalie said as she tightened her shoulder straps.

“Time to do it,” Guru said as he rolled in on the target.


Below, at the crossroads which, back up until the 1920s, had been a town called Kokomo, the Soviet 253rd Motor-Rifle Divison's 979th MRR had held up, and the Regimental Commander was furious. The Division was a mobilization-only formation from Tiblisi in Georgia, and the 979th MRR was actually the best-equipped MRR in the division, with BTR-60 APCs, T-55 tanks, and towed M-30 122-mm howitzers. The other two had older T-54 tanks, BTR-50s, and M-30s as well, while the tank regiment had T-55s with no BMPs, but BTRs as well. Other than shoulder-fired Strela-2 (SA-7 Grail) SAMs, the only air defense assets the division had were BTR-152 APCs with either ZPU-2 twin 14.5-mm machine-gun mouts, or in the divisional air defense regiment, 37-mm M-1939 AA guns left over from the days of the Great Patriotic War.

All that was well known to the Regimental commander, and despite the shortcomings of the division, they had managed to advance in their first battle with the Americans. Their orders from 32nd Army were to punch a hole in the American line, then allow either the 155th MRD or the 78th TD to pass through and raise some hell behind the American lines. The only problem was that the divisional commander had insisted that no one attack without adequate maps-a holdover from his days as an instructor at the Kharkov Guards Tank Officer Training College. Unfortunately, the division had not been furnished with adequate maps, and the regimental commanders had simply pushed ahead, telling their battalions to move forward, and hopefully gain some maps from overrun American positions.

Now, the Colonel commanding the 979s arrived at this crossroads, which was labeled on the map he had as a town, but there was only a crossroads with only a single burned-out building at the intersection. In a fury, he got out of his BTR-60 command vehicle and demanded to know where the regimental reconissance company was, and why they hadn't passed on information the commander needed. Instead, he found the company commander and two battalion commanders arguing over where they were, and the regimental artillery battalion arriving to set up, believing they were where they were supposed to be. Shouts, then exploding rockets with White Phosphorous came, followed by an American aircraft with a shoulder-fired missile following, but failing to bring it down. Then his Zampolit literally dragged him into a roadside ditch. “What's the meaning of this?” the Colonel thundered.

“Air attack, Comrade Commander!” the political officer said,pointing to the south. Brown smoke trails, with specks at the head of them, and growing larger, appeared.

“TAKE COVER!” Shouted the Colonel.


“Lead's in hot!” Guru said as he took 512 down on the bomb run. He picked out a group of tanks in a field northwest of the intersection, and selected those as his target. Though he didn't have any Rockeyes, half a dozen each of 500-lb and 750-lb bombs would still do a number on armor, flipping a tank if close enough, and blowing it apart if a direct hit. As he came in, he saw tracers coming up, but they were small. That meant small-arms and machine-gun fire, not the bad stuff like ZSU-23s or worse, Tunguskas. A shoulder-fired missile, probably an SA-7, flew by harmlessly to the right as he lined up the tanks. Not your day, Ivan.... “Steady, Steady... And... HACK!” He hit the pickle button, sending his bombs down onto the Russians below, then pulled up and away, jinking from right to left as he did. As he pulled clear, another SAM flew by to his left, and he jinked right by instinct. Then he made his call. “Lead's off target.”


“Sookin sin!” Son of a bitch, the Colonel yelled. This was his first time under air attack. Not even while training in Cuba had this happened, though it had to others, or so he had been told upon arrival there, nearly a year earlier. This time was very different. He heard, but didn't see, Guru's F-4 make its run, but the bomb blasts going off were clearly unmistakable. The Colonel glanced up out of the ditch, and saw several tanks from his tank battalion were on fire, with a couple blasted apart by direct hits, and at least one more flipped on its side by a near-miss bomb. He tried to look around, only to get pulled in by someone-who he didn't know. More aircraft coming in, he knew.

“SHACK!” Goalie called. “Good hits back there!”

Guru grinned beneath his oxygen mask as he headed for Leon Lake and then the I-20. “Any secondaries?” He asked.

“One or two.”

“Take what we get,” Guru said as he armed his Sidewinders, just in case.


“Two's in!” Kara called from 520 as she came in. She saw the CO's run, and the bomb blasts among the tanks. She decided to give the tanks some additional attention, and selected a company's worth next to the F.M. 2689. You'll do, she thought as she lined up the tanks, some of which were beginning to move. “Not today, Ivan,” Kara muttered as tracers came up, and she ignored them. “Your turn,” she added as the tanks grew larger in her pipper. “And... And... NOW!” Kara hit the pickle button, and a dozen 500-lb and 750-lb bombs came off the racks. She pulled up and away, and like the CO, she was jinking as she pulled clear. Like Guru, she had a couple of SA-7s fly by without harm on egress, and she, too, jinked again to give the SAM shooters a harder time. As she spotted the CO's bird, she called, “Two off safe.”


As Kara's F-4 came in, the Colonel muttered, “This isn't happening.” Shaking his head, he laid down in the ditch as the Phantom thundered overhead, followed quickly thereafter by the bombs going off. Shaking off the dirt, the Colonel lifted his head yet again. More tanks were burning, he saw, with at least two more simply blasted apart. Turning his head, he saw APCs from Second Battalion scattering, with soldiers getting out and finding cover wherever they could in the field they had halted in. Then more machine-gun fire directed over his head made him get back into the ditch.


“GOOD HITS!” Brainiac shouted from 520's back seat.

“Secondaries?” Kara wanted to know as she dodged another SA-7.

“A few,” was the reply. And Brainiac's voice signaled disappointment.

“Better luck next time,” Kara said, echoing her WSO's feeling. They needed Rockeyes to really go after tanks, she knew.


“Three's in!” Sweaty called as she came in on her run. She saw Kara's run, and decided that the APCs in the field across the road would do.She saw the tracers coming up from several directions, but ignored them as the shooting was wild and very inaccurate. As with both the CO and Kara, a couple of SA-7s came up, but failed to guide as Sweaty took her bird in. She picked out several APCs and selected them. “Your turn... And... NOW!” She hit the pickle button, releasing her bombs, and then pulled up and away. She jinked to the left, then to the right as she did, and noted a couple more missiles fly past to the left, and another to her right. Once clear, she made her call. “Three's off.”


“Not again,” the Colonel heard someone say aloud. He turned to the sound of the voice, and saw it was his Zampolit. Even the Party man was having a rough introduction to the war, the Colonel thought. He heard Sweaty's F-4 come in, almost directly overhead, it seemed, and then the bomb blasts followed seconds later. The Colonel popped his head out of the trench, and found the APCs of Second Battalion had been the target. Several BTR-60s had been tossed aside by the blasts as if they were toys, while others were either burning or worse, had been blasted apart. The Colonel saw a soldier stand up and raise a Strela-2 launcher, and he ducked. Another aircraft was coming.

“BULLSEYE!” Preacher shouted as Sweaty pulled away. “And we have secondaries!”

“How many and what kind?” Sweaty asked as she dodged an SA-7.

“Several, and they're okay for now.”

Beneath her oxygen mask, Sweaty smiled. “Take 'em as we get 'em,” she said. Sweaty then headed north to Leon Lake and picked up the CO's element as she did, checking for any Red air on the way.


Hoser was next. “Four's in hot!” He saw another group of APCs to the south of the one that Sweaty had hit, and decided that it was their turn. Hoser rolled in, and as he came down, the tracers were coming up. No ZSU-23s or -30s, he was glad to see, and no heavy SAMs. The SA-7 shooters were active, and three missiles came up at him, but all failed to guide. Hoser came down on that battalion-or so it looked like to him-and the APCs grew larger in his pipper. “Steady... NOW!” He hit the pickle button, and sent his bombs onto the Russians down below. After bomb release, Hoser pulled clear, applying power and jinking as he did, and picking up his element lead in the process. Dodging a couple of SA-7s, he called, “Four's off target.”


Not again, the Colonel thought as he heard Hoser's F-4 come in on its run. These Americans were very tenacious, he had been told in his predeployment briefings, which was a far cry from what the State Media and the Party's Propaganda had been saying since the war began. He shook his head and waited for the bomb blasts. After they came-with the rain of shrapnel that followed, and those in the ditch were still alive, he lifted his head and looked around. He saw the field to the south where Third Battalion had halted, and saw with dismay that several of their BTR-60s were either afire, flipped over, and at least one, he saw, had been blasted apart by a direct hit. The Colonel saw that his Regimental Command Group's vehicles had not yet been targeted, and he started to get up,intending to reach his APC, when hands pulled him back into the ditch. The Colonel opened his mouth, then realized that more machine-gun fire was coming, and that meant more aircraft.

“GOOD HITS!” KT shouted from Hoser's back seat.

“Secondaries?” Hoser asked as another SA-7 flew past on his right.

“A few,” she replied, a little disappointed.

“More next time,” Hoser promised as he cleared the area, and found Sweaty's bird, forming up with his element lead.


Dave Golen rolled in onto the target and made his call. “Five in hot!” He found the Regimental Artillery having set up, and selected a battery already positioned and ready to fire. The CBUs that he and Flossy were carrying weren't antiarmor like the Rockeyes were, but the CBU-58/Bs they had were packed with incendiary submunitions, and those would have to do. They might not wreck the guns, but if they landed in the ammo boxes, or on some ammo trucks.... Dave smiled at that thought. He saw the tracers coming up, and ignored them, and the two SA-7s that came up after him, as he lined up the battery in his pipper. “Steady... Steady... and THEY'RE OFF!” As he hit the pickle button, a dozen CBUs came off the aircraft, and he pulled up and clear, jinking as he did so. Dave, too, had a couple of SA-7s fly past as he cleared the area, and once clear, he made the usual call. “Five off target.”

“More coming,” the Colonel said as he heard the F-4 coming in. This time, the bomb blasts were different, with many smaller explosions, and that meant cluster bombs. Right after the F-4 flew past, the Colonel took a chance and glanced around. He looked to the north, and only saw the aftermath of the first four strikes, but a look to the south, where the Regimental Artillery was setting up, was different. One battery of M-30 howitzers had been hit, and the CBUs had apparently landed among the ammunition trucks and ammunition boxes that had been laid next to the guns, ready to answer any fire mission calls. Not anymore, for several guns had been tossed around by sympathetic detonations, and several trucks had simply...disintegrated after their stored munitions had exploded. Seeing a couple of soldiers fire Strela-2 misiles made the Colonel get back into the ditch.... When would the Americans stop coming?


Oz, Dave's temporary GIB, called, “BULLSEYE! We got good secondaries!”

“How good?” Dave asked as yet another SA-7 flew by.

“Big and good!”

“Fine with me!” Dave said as he flew north.


“Six is in!” Flossy called as she took 1569 in on her run. She saw her element lead's run, and decided that the guns, too, were worthy of attention. She picked out another battery, noting the ammo trucks and aiming for a point between the guns and the trucks. Ignoring the tracers and at least one SA-7 that came her way, Flossy lined up the battery in her pipper. Your time's up, Ivan... “Steady... Steady... And... HACK!” Flossy hit the pickle button, releasing her dozen CBU-58s. She then pulled clear, jinking as she went up and away. Dodging another SA-7, she made her call after that missile had passed. “Six off target.”

“Not again...” the Colonel muttered to himself as he heard Flossy's F-4 come in. Again, he heard the CBUs going off amid the thunder of the aircraft flying by, and a number of sympathetic detonations followed. Some shrapnel came down onto the ditch, and a couple of screams followed. He looked around the ditch, and found the Zampolit dead from a large piece of shrapnel sticking out of his skull, and another officer screaming at the top of his lungs as several pieces of metal were sticking out of his arms. The Colonel got up from the trench, and found his Regimental Chief of Staff coming towards him from where the man had been hiding-underneath his own vehicle. Just then, two more F-4s came over, but didn't attack. What they had been up to wasn't the Colonel's concern. “Get first-aid parties out, and tend to the wounded. We need to get the Regiment ready to fight, because I think this is just the beginning.”

“You're expecting a counterattack?” The Major replied.

“I would, if I was the American commander,” said the Colonel.

“Right away, Comrade Colonel,” the Chief said.


“SHACK!” Jang called from the back seat. “We have multiple secondaries!”

“What kind of mulitple?” Flossy asked as she jinked to dodge an SA-7, then spotted her element lead.

“Big and multiple!”

“Preacher would be saying righteous,” Flossy said. “We'll take those,” she added. She then found her lead and formed up with him.


In 512, Guru nodded on hearing Flossy's call. “Six in and out,” he said. “Now we fly for ourselves.” He then called the FAC. “Nail, Chevy Lead. All birds off target.”

“Roger, Chevy,” the FAC replied. “I give you a four-decimal-zero. All ordnance on target. Nice work, fella.”

“Roger that, Nail. Maybe we can do this again sometime,” Guru said. Hopefully, not today, he added silently. “Seven and eight, get your asses down and away,” he said, calling their TARCAP.

The two F-4Js dropped from their TARCAP and overflew the target area, with the crews noting the aftermath, including still-ongoing secondary explosions as ammo went up. “Roger, Lead,” Dave Gledhill replied.



“Copy that,” Guru said. “Hillsboro, Chevy Lead. We are off target, Winchester, and are RTB at this time.”

The ABCCC controller replied right away. “Roger that, Chey Lead, Clear to RTB.”

“How far to Leon Lake?” Guru asked Goalie as the Texas landscape flew by at 500 feet AGL.

“Fifteen seconds,” she advised. Then she glanced at her own EW display. “Mainstay's still there.”

“Roger that,” Guru said as Kara pulled up in Combat Spread.

“Lead, Two,” Kara called. “On your wing.”

“Sweaty's with you, and I've got Hoser,” Sweaty called.

Dave Golen was next. “Five and six on you.” He said as he and Flossy formed up behind Sweaty and Hoser.

“Seven and eight with you and above,” Dave Gledhill added.

Then Leon Lake appeared ahead, and the strike flight overflew the lake, then I-20 and the FEBA for all intents and purposes followed quickly. As they cleared the Interstate, Guru took a look at his EW display and saw the strobe that signaled the Mainstay radar fade out. “And the Mainstay's gone.”

“And we'll see him again in another hour,” Goalie spat.


Once clear, Chevy Flight climbed to altitude and headed for the tankers. They drank some fuel, then headed back to Sheppard. When they got to Wichita Falls, they were the second in the pattern, right behind a four-ship of S Phantoms from VMFA-333, then they came on in. After landing and taxiing clear, the crews popped their canopies, but no fingers were held up to signal kills. For the first time in a while, though, the newsies weren't filming-Ms. Wendt's crew were likely Downtown at the rally. Then they found the squadron dispersal, and taxied into their revetments.

Guru taxied 512 into its revetment, and after shutting down on his CC's signal, he let out a sigh of relief. “One and done for the afternoon.”

Goalie started the postflight checklist, then added. “And how many more?” Though she knew the likely answer anyway.

“Two, maybe three,” Guru replied as he went through the checklist with her. While they were doing that chore, the ground crew set up the crew ladders. Once finished, both pilot and GIB climbed down from the aircraft, and the two accepted bottles of water from Sergeant Crowley, the Crew Chief. “Thanks, Sarge.”

Crowley nodded as both crewers did a quick postflight walk-around. “How'd things go, Major?” He asked.

“Tore up part of a Russian regiment,” Guru said as he signed over the aircraft. “Probably going back and put the hurt on 'em some more.”

Crowley nodded again, then pointed to the rear of the revetment, where the ordnance people were pulling up with some carts loaded with Rockeye CBUs. “Looks like it to me, sir.”

Both Guru and Goalie turned, and saw the load. “I'd say you're right,” Guru said. “We didn't expend any air-to-air or twenty-mm, so don't waste anymore time. Get her prepped.”

“Yes, sir!” Crowley was beaming. He turned to the ground crew. “Okay, people! Let's get the CO's bird prepped for another one!”

Guru and Goalie walked to the front of the revetment, and it wasn't long until Kara, Brainiac, Sweaty, and Hoser came by. “Well, how'd you all do?” Guru asked.

“Tore up some tanks,” Kara said, and Brainiac nodded. “And you got some yourself,” she added.

“APCs for us,” Sweaty added, with Hoser nodding.

Dave Golen, Flossy, and their GIBs arrived next, with the RAF crews not long behind. “Made some artillery pieces go up, and I mean up,” the IDF major said.

“No Red Air,” Dave Gledhill added, a tone of disappointment in his voice. Though their tour was winding down, it wasn't over just yet. He looked at Karen McKay, who was looking to make double ace herself, and maybe become the first female F-4 pilot to achieve that title, though everyone knew that Kara was also hungry for that tenth MiG...

Guru nodded. “There's always the next one,” he said. “Anyone notice what the Ordnance Crews were bringing over after shutting down?”

“Rockeyes,” Sweaty said, and both Kara and Hoser nodded. “Looks like we're going after some armor.”

Dave Golen nodded, then added, “Mavericks for us,” he said.

Guru started to say something, then held it as a Dodge Crew-Cab pickup pulled up, with Chief Ross at the wheel. “Chief?”

“Major, Captain Licon wants to debrief you outside the squadron's office,” Ross said. “I've got drinks and snacks laid on, just like last time.”

“Thanks, Chief,” Guru nodded approvingly. “Okay, let's go make Sin Licon happy,” the CO said, referring to the Squadron's Intelligence Officer, then we get ready for the next one.”

“And how long until that?” Sweaty asked.

“Half-hour, maybe forty-five,” Guru replied, putting on his bush hat. “Come on. Pile in and let's go.”


When they got to the Squadron's Office area, Sin was waiting, and the Chief was, as usual, as good as his word. Snacks and drinks-coffee, Gatorade, or bottle water, were available, and the Intel had been waiting to do debriefs. That chore was quickly out of the way, and the crews got some refreshments while waiting for their birds to be turned around.

As the next two flights came back-and all of them did come back, the CO was pleased to see, the crews talked about what they had seen. Nobody had run into Red Air, while there was air activity from the other side to the east and west, though. Then talk came to what had happened that morning, and the Soviet attack on London that had missed Buckingham Palace.

“Anything like that here, Sin?” Kara asked.

“They had Bears or Backfires from Alaska shoot some at both Philly and Ottawa,” the Intel replied. “They didn't hit anything or anybody important,” he added. “Though the day's not over yet.”

“It is that,” Dave Golen said. “We still might have a long afternoon.”

“That's a given,” Guru said before he attacked a Chicken and Turkey sandwich. “This feels like PRAIRIE FIRE, Days one to three, all over again.” And that, he remembered, had ended on Two and three with crews so tired, they had to be lifted from their cockpits.

Don Van Loan came over while he was waiting for his flight to turn around. “Busy day, Boss,” he said.

“It is that,” the CO agreed. “And it ain't over until it's over,” he added, echoing a baseball phrase Yogi Berra came up with.

Then an Ops NCO came over. “Major? Your flight, Major Golen's element, and Squadron Leader Gledhill's? All are up and ready.”

“Showtime,” Goalie said as she heard, and grabbed her helmet.

Guru nodded as Mark Ellis, the XO, came out of the Office, “Any news, Mark?”

“Nada,” the Exec replied. “Time for you guys to go, looks like.”

Guru nodded again. “So it does,” he said. “Chevy Flight? Finish what you've got, hit the latrines, then it's time to fly.”

After finishing their business, Chevy Flight's crews piled into a Crew-Cab, and Airman Kellogg drove them to 512's revetment. After they got out, the crews noticed the CBUs on the inboard and centerline stations of the CO's mount. “You called it,” Kara said to Guru. “Antiarmor.”

“Hate to admit it when I'm right,” said the CO. “Okay, same drill as last time we had this load. Dave Golen?” He turned to the IDF “Observer.” “You and Flossy kill anything that can kill an airplane, and if you can't find anything? Kill anything that looks like a command track-tank, APC, truck, whatever.”

Dave looked at Flossy, then the GIBs, and all nodded. “Our pleasure.”

“Dave Gledhill?” Guru went on. “You guys kill anything over the target area-wherever it is-with a Red star on it. If they aren't around? Do a TARCAP and block any party-crashers.”

“Will do,” the RAF Squadron Leader said.

“Ops says the threat's unchanged, and we do it like the last one: AWACS, Hillsboro, then the FAC,” said Guru. “And the usual on the radio.” He looked at the crews. “Questions?”

Hoser asked, “Two more like this one?”

“You said it, I didn't,” Guru replied. “Anything else?” Heads shook no. “Then we've got someplace to be. Meet up at ten grand overhead.” The CO clapped his hands for emphasis.

Kara nodded. “You heard him,” she said.

As the crews headed to their aircraft, Guru and Goalie went to 512. As was usual, Sergeant Crowley was waiting, and he snapped a salute, which they returned.

“Major, Captain,” Crowley said. “Five-twelve's ready to go and kick some more Commie ass.”

“Thanks, Sarge,” Guru said. He and Goalie did a quick walk-around, then after he signed for the aircraft, they mounted the bird. After strapping in,and putting on their helmets, it was checklist time. The two went through it pretty quick.

“Seats?” Goalie asked.

“Armed top and bottom,” Guru replied. “Check yours, and Arnie?” He meant the ARN-101 DMAS nav system.

“Mine's armed, and Arnie's set. Preflight complete and ready for engine start.”

Guru then gave a thumbs-up to Crowley, who gave the “Start Engines” signal. One, then both, J-79 engines were soon up and running, and after warmup was complete, Guru called the Tower. “Tower, Chevy Flight with eight, requesting Taxi and Takeoff instructions.”

“Chevy Lead, Tower,” the controller replied. “Clear to taxi to Runway Three-Five-Charlie. Hold prior to the active, and you are number three in line.”

“Roger, Tower,” Guru called back. “Chevy Lead rolling.” He gave the “Chocks” signal to Crowley, who wave to the ground crew. The wheel chocks were pulled away, and the Crew Chief gave a thumbs-up. Guru released the brakes and followed the CC's signals as he taxied out. Once clear of the revetment, Crowley snapped a salute, which both Guru and Goalie returned.

As 512 taxied away, the rest of the flight followed suit. When the flight approached Runway 35C, a Marine F/A-18 flight was at the head of the line, and right behind that was another Shamrocks F-4S four-ship. The Hornets launched, then the Shamrocks went to the Holding Area, and the armorers there removed the weapon safeties. The Marines then taxied onto the runway, and after a minute, all four F-4s rumbled down the runway and into the air. Then it was their turn.

Chevy Flight taxied into the Holding Area, and the squadron armorers who were there removed their weapon safeties. Then it was time to call the Tower.

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

“Roger, Chevy Lead,” the controller replied. “Clear to taxi for takeoff. Winds are two-six-eight for ten.”

“Roger, Tower.” Guru then taxied 512 onto the Runway, and Kara followed in 520, forming up on his right. A final check found everything ready, and a quick glance at 520 had its crew give thumbs-ups. They were returned. Only one more task remained. “Tower, Chevy Lead requesting clear for takeoff.”

As was standard, the Tower flashed a green light. Clear for takeoff.

“Canopy coming down,” Guru said, closing and locking his, and Goalie did the same. A look over at 520 showed Kara's mount was just as ready. And it was time.

“Ready back here,” Goalie said. “Time to fly.”


“So it is,” Guru said. He firewalled the throttles, released the brakes, and 512 thundered down the runway and into the air, with 520 right with him. Thirty seconds later, it was Sweaty and Hoser's turn, followed by Dave Golen's pair, and then the RAF. Chevy Flight formed up at FL 100, then headed back south to the tanker track.

[jemhouston]

Close air support, hated by the side doing it and the side being hit by it.

[Poohbah]

Why do they always ask how many runs?

[Wolfman]

Close air support, hated by the side doing it and the side being hit by it.

But beloved by the beneficiaries…

[clancyphile]

Why do they always ask how many runs?

Hope springs eternal...

[Matt Wiser]

Why do they always ask how many runs?

The crews don't live and breathe the CAS mission-unlike the Marines or AF Hog, SLUF, and Scooter drivers. The sooner things get handled on the ground, the sooner they get back to BAI, Offensive Counter Air (Fancy term for tearing up airfields), etc.

[Matryoshka]

Why do they always ask how many runs?

Almost certainly a matter of SOP — CAS is about maximising warheads-on-foreheads-per-sortie, whatever the opinions and inclinations of the drivers involved. Most aircraft that expend their external warloads can still come back and make gun-runs until their ammo runs out (nobody pays ’em to bring it home, after all, and every round they throw downrange is another chance to hurt Ivan), not least birds like the A-10 that live for that kind of craziness. Remember, the FACs handling the CAS missions have desperate ground-unit commanders screaming in their ears, begging for everything plus the kitchen sink to stop the ComBloc from rolling them under, so said FACs are pretty much obliged to ask everybody who shows up how much they’re willing and able to do to help the ground-pounders — because every scrap of firepower they throw at Ivan while his forces are exposed kills Commies and saves the lives of good-guy grunts.
Hell, I’m morally certain that there were FACs, CAS drivers, and most-definitely grunts who considered Guru and the 335th prissy or snobbish for their “one pass, haul ass, then go back to my ‘real’ job” attitude and had more respect for squadrons who stuck around longer during CAS assignments, ‘making themselves actually useful’.
Call it confirmation bias if you like, but everyone thinks their little slice of the war is the most crucial part, and resents anyone who doesn’t ‘pull their weight’ about winning that little piece of the overall fight, regardless of whether or not the other guy’s time-and-resources might have a far greater effect on the big-picture war-effort if applied elsewhere. It’s not entirely fair, but it’s perfectly human.

[Poohbah]

Why do they always ask how many runs?

Almost certainly a matter of SOP — CAS is about maximising warheads-on-foreheads-per-sortie, whatever the opinions and inclinations of the drivers involved. Most aircraft that expend their external warloads can still come back and make gun-runs until their ammo runs out (nobody pays ’em to bring it home, after all, and every round they throw downrange is another chance to hurt Ivan), not least birds like the A-10 that live for that kind of craziness. Remember, the FACs handling the CAS missions have desperate ground-unit commanders screaming in their ears, begging for everything plus the kitchen sink to stop the ComBloc from rolling them under, so said FACs are pretty much obliged to ask everybody who shows up how much they’re willing and able to do to help the ground-pounders — because every scrap of firepower they throw at Ivan while his forces are exposed kills Commies and saves the lives of good-guy grunts.
Hell, I’m morally certain that there were FACs, CAS drivers, and most-definitely grunts who considered Guru and the 335th prissy or snobbish for their “one pass, haul ass, then go back to my ‘real’ job” attitude and had more respect for squadrons who stuck around longer during CAS assignments, ‘making themselves actually useful’.
Call it confirmation bias if you like, but everyone thinks their little slice of the war is the most crucial part, and resents anyone who doesn’t ‘pull their weight’ about winning that little piece of the overall fight, regardless of whether or not the other guy’s time-and-resources might have a far greater effect on the big-picture war-effort if applied elsewhere. It’s not entirely fair, but it’s perfectly human.

All I ever expected as a grunt was one pass, and I figured the last guys in the formation were taking one heck of a risk rolling in on an alerted enemy. (People get ornery after getting bombed. Can't imagine why...)

[Belushi TD]

To be fair, their little part of the war IS, in fact, THE most crucial part of the war to them.

Belushi TD

[Matt Wiser]

A little bit of context here:

There is a 335th Squadron policy that goes back to the early days of the war, and it's also based on Israeli experience in 1973: if doing CAS, you limit yourself to one run only, expending all of your ordnance in one pass, unless the threat level dictates otherwise. Not only are you in range of divisional level assets such as SA-6, SA-8, and SA-11, but you're also at risk from regimental level threats, such as SA-9. SA-13, and either ZSU-23-4 or ZSU-30/SA-19. At battalion and below, it's heavy machine guns on APCs and tanks, plus MANPADS and small-arms fire.

You are low and fast, and attract the attention of everybody (enemy and friendly) with a gun, and a bullet in the right place can bring down a multimillion-dollar aircraft and force the crew to take a Martin-Baker ride. If lucky, they're rescued. If unlucky, KIA, and very unlucky, POW.... One pass minimizes the risk to aircraft and aircrew, and if you have to go back, do a turnaround, and come back to do this again? So be it.

It's not just this squadron: many other fast-mover outfits do the same thing, unless they're dedicated to the CAS mission (A-10, A-7, and A-4 squadrons). Even the Marines, who pride themselves on CAS, limit themselves to one run only in high-threat areas. Now, if the Army or Marines requesting CAS can take out any hostile air-defense assets, it gives a clearer run to the target, and eases the surface-to-air threat. FACs do make that request regularly, it should be pointed out.

One run just makes it easier for aircraft and aircrew, and as Poobah pointed out, people tend to get ornery when they've just been bombed.

[Poohbah]

A little bit of context here:

There is a 335th Squadron policy that goes back to the early days of the war, and it's also based on Israeli experience in 1973: if doing CAS, you limit yourself to one run only, expending all of your ordnance in one pass, unless the threat level dictates otherwise. Not only are you in range of divisional level assets such as SA-6, SA-8, and SA-11, but you're also at risk from regimental level threats, such as SA-9. SA-13, and either ZSU-23-4 or ZSU-30/SA-19. At battalion and below, it's heavy machine guns on APCs and tanks, plus MANPADS and small-arms fire.

You are low and fast, and attract the attention of everybody (enemy and friendly) with a gun, and a bullet in the right place can bring down a multimillion-dollar aircraft and force the crew to take a Martin-Baker ride. If lucky, they're rescued. If unlucky, KIA, and very unlucky, POW.... One pass minimizes the risk to aircraft and aircrew, and if you have to go back, do a turnaround, and come back to do this again? So be it.

It's not just this squadron: many other fast-mover outfits do the same thing, unless they're dedicated to the CAS mission (A-10, A-7, and A-4 squadrons). Even the Marines, who pride themselves on CAS, limit themselves to one run only in high-threat areas. Now, if the Army or Marines requesting CAS can take out any hostile air-defense assets, it gives a clearer run to the target, and eases the surface-to-air threat. FACs do make that request regularly, it should be pointed out.

One run just makes it easier for aircraft and aircrew, and as Poobah pointed out, people tend to get ornery when they've just been bombed.

And then coming back across the FEBA, and friendly ADA says, "Kill them all, for the Lord knows His own!"

[Matt Wiser]

That's the attitude of the I-HAWK site at the I-20 bridges over the Brazos. They have a reputation for shooting first and only then checking if the blip they engage has a valid IFF reading.

And Guru and Goalie have come back twice from CAS runs with unexploded SA-7s in their afterburner cans. No desire to repeat the experience, thanks very much. While another crew came back after a run-in with ZSU-30-2 and the only reason they were able to is because there were some dud rounds. The bird needed a new nose radome, a new backseater's canopy, and some other work done...

[Poohbah]

That's the attitude of the I-HAWK site at the I-20 bridges over the Brazos. They have a reputation for shooting first and only then checking if the blip they engage has a valid IFF reading.

And Guru and Goalie have come back twice from CAS runs with unexploded SA-7s in their afterburner cans. No desire to repeat the experience, thanks very much. While another crew came back after a run-in with ZSU-30-2 and the only reason they were able to is because there were some dud rounds. The bird needed a new nose radome, a new backseater's canopy, and some other work done...

And the WSO probably needed to change his/her underwear...