Re: Wolverine and Chiefs
Posted: Sun Nov 03, 2024 3:33 am
by Matt Wiser
And the next chapter, with the 253rd MRD in a world of hurt....
Over North-Central Texas: 1600 Hours Central War Time:
Chevy Flight had come off the tankers and was orbiting north of the FEBA. They had drunk enough fuel, then checked in with the AWACS. As usual, Crystal Palace had acknowledged the check-in, then they were passed on to Hillsboro, the EC-130 ABCCC. This time, the controller-the same one the CO could tell by the sound of his voice, told them, “Get in line at 16,000 and wait your turn.”
Guru thought about that. Maybe the high OpTempo that the squadrons had been experiencing was biting. Last time it had been 25,000, he knew. Ground crew were tired, aircrew were tired, all of it, he knew. That added up to getting out of their bases-whether it was Sheppard, Reese, Altus, Amarillo, or wherever-longer than they should have been.
He looked off to the south as calls came for them to descend. There were fireballs in the air, and as the flight got lower, those on the ground became visible as well. Ivan made us busy today, the CO thought, and some folks wouldn't be coming back, as he watched an explosion in the air and what he could tell was a plane plunge to earth. Ours or theirs, he wondered.
“This has been a bitch of a day,” he observed over the IC. The tempo of the day's flying was catching up to the CO.
“I'll go along with that,” Goalie said. They had just been told to go down to 10,000 Feet. “Comrade Chebrikov's still going to be pissed. Not just that somebody tried to kill him, but...”
“They tried going after leadership on this side, and so far, that hasn't worked, and this ground attack hasn't either.”
Then a call came over the radio. “Lead, Sweaty. Anything?”
“Negative, Three,” Guru replied.
“Just asking, Lead,” his second element lead said with a slight bitterness in her voice.
Guru picked that up, and he sympathized with her-and everyone else. We bust our asses to get down here, and they make us wait. “Copy that.”
Then the EC-130 controller came on the line. “Chevy Lead, Hillsboro. Drop to FL 09 and continue to hold.”
“Roger, Hillsboro,” Guru replied. “Flight, Lead. Follow me down to Nine Grand and keep holding.”
“Roger, Lead,” Kara replied, and so did the others.
In the back seat, Goalie was scanning with binoculars. She picked up some fireballs on the ground to the southwest. “Lots going off down there.”
“Theirs or ours?” Guru asked.
“Good question. I think they're Reds, but hard to tell this high.”
The flight ahead of them-Marine Hornets from VMFA-451-went in, then the Controller called. “Chevy Lead, contact Nail Four-Nine for tasking.”
“Roger, Hillsboro,” Guru replied. “Nail Four-Nine, Chevy Lead, How copy?”
The FAC called back right away. “Chevy Lead, Nail. Good copy.State your aircraft and type of ordnance, please.”
“Nail Four-Nine, Chevy Lead has six Foxtrot-Four Echoes with Rockeye Charlie Bravo Uniform, and air-to-air, and two Foxtrot-Four Juliets with full air-to-air.”
“Roger, Chevy. Got something for you. Target is a suspected command post or field COMINT Station. Multiple trucks with antennas, camo netting, the works. Target is at the intersection of Foxtrot-Michael Three-zero-three, Five-three-two,and Two-six-eight-nine. Southwest corner..There are two ranch ponds, and a large field,” Nail called.
“Roger that,Nail. Can you mark the target, and say Sierra-Alpha threat?” Guru asked.
“Can mark, and bad guys have 23s and 37s, plus MANPADS.”
“Chevy Lead copies all.” said Guru “Flight, Lead. Switches on, Music on, and stand by.”
Then the FAC asked the universal question, or so it seemed. “Chevy, Nail. How many runs can you give?”
How many times do they have to ask, Guru wondered.
“They ought to know by now,” Goalie said as she worked the armament controls. “Switches set.”
“Music on,” Guru said as he turned on his ECM pod. “Chevy, Nail. One run only. South to north.” He saw the A-7 orbiting below and to the left.
“Your call, Chevy. Be advised negative Red Air, and marking the target.” Then the A-7K rolled in and fired four rockets, which exploded near the vehicles with streams of WP. “There's your target, Chevy.”
“Roger, Nail. Flight, Lead. Follow me in, and One-seven and One eight? You kill any party-crashers.”
Kara replied, “Roger, Lead,” and the others followed.
“Ready back here,” Goalie said, tightening her shoulder straps.
Guru nodded, then said, “Ready here. Time to do it.” Then he rolled 512 in on the bomb run.
Below, just west of the intersection and south of one of the ranch ponds, the Commander of the 253rd MRD had just arrived in his command APC with the divisional forward HQ element. The man had been a senior instructor at the Kharkov Guards Tank Officers' Training College, until the “War Emergency” he had been pulled out of that billet and sent down to Tiblisi. There, he originally had been assigned to the 100th Guards Motor-Rifle Division (Training), but the sudden death of the commander of the 253rd MRD had opened up a vacancy. A Colonel at the time, the man received a prompt promotion to Major General, which he had accepted gratefully. He was less than grateful when he found that the division was a Mobilization-only formation with third-rate equipment and personnel that was a mix of new draftees, reservists with an average age of thirty-five, and junior officers fresh from training. Still, he plunged into his task, hoping that the division would be reequipped prior to deployment.
Those hopes were dashed in late 1986, when the division moved to Sevastapol, and was loaded on ships bound for Cuba. The trip through the Mediterranean could be very calm or very frightful, the captain of the freighter the Divisional HQ and Reconnaissance Battalion had sailed on told him. Either the Americans, British, and Israelis wouldn't notice the convoy, or they would. And if they did... “Expect half of your command to be sunk,” the Captain had said.
Fortunately, the trip to Cuba was uneventful, and after disembarking in Banes', the division had resumed training, for at the time, going to Louisiana and the swamp country there was a distinct possibility. Instead, the division loaded up again in August of 1987 and sailed to Texas, offloading at the Port of Houston. There, he and his men found out just how hated they were, with anti-Soviet graffiti everywhere, angry stares shot at them by the locals-often with extended middle fingers, and even a few shots by snipers.
Then their orders were changed and instead of Louisiana, the division was assigned to 32nd Army in Central Texas. After arrival, the division had settled in, helping to secure, or at least make the attempt to do so, the Army's immediate rear, before being called forward. General Sisov, the Army Commander, informed the General his division was to attack and push forward as hard and far as possible, before either the 78th TD or the 155th MRD passed through to continue the attack. Was this related to what had happened in Moscow the previous evening, the General asked. To his surprise, the Army Commander had replied. “I think so, General. Do what you can and get on with it.”
Now, the General was furious. Two of his regiments had been badly mauled by air attack before coming into contact with the Americans on the ground, and seeing the aftermath of those air strikes had been a shock. His divisional reconnaissance battalion had pushed on ahead, only to warn of tanks and APCs ahead, strength unknown, but at least two battalion's worth. That meant a brigade-sized formation was ahead of his division. The General ordered the 983rd MRR, which only had one battalion in APCs, the rest in trucks, and the divisional tank regiment, the 1889th, forward, while trying to see who was on his left flank, which, to his shock, was clear. Before he could get on a radio to talk to the Divisional Chief of Staff at the Main Command Post, shouting, and both machine-gun and 23-mm AA fire attracted his attention, followed by rockets exploding in the field and an aircraft pulling away. White Phosphorous, he knew. And smoke trails coming in from the south. American aircraft, he knew. Shaking his head, the General found a ditch and jumped into it, dragging his aide with him.
“Lead's in hot!” Guru called as he took 512 down on the bomb run. He saw the cloud of WP, and the vehicles just to the north of it. They had either just arrived or didn't care about the lack of camoflauge netting, for there was none. As Guru got lower, he saw a mix of APCs and trucks, and that meant a command element. Good, he smiled beneath his oxygen mask. Ignoring the light flak and machine-gun fire coming up at him, along with at least two SA-7s, he lined up several trucks in his pipper. “Steady... And.. Steady....NOW!” The CO hit his pickle button, releasing his dozen Rockeyes onto the Russians below, before pulling up and away. He began jinking as he did, to give any SAM shooters down there a harder shot, and as he cleared, Guru made his other call. “Lead off safe.”
“This isn't happening,” the General muttered aloud. Apart from his aide, a few other soldiers had joined him in the ditch, along with one man who always went with him: the Zampolit. They all ducked as Guru's F-4 flew overhead, and they heard as the CBUs went off. Several explosions followed, along with the accompanying screams. Knowing from after-action reports that American aircraft didn't attack alone, he stayed in the ditch and ordered those with him to follow his example. The sounds of the AA guns opening up again told him he was right, and more were coming...
“SHACK!” Goalie called from 512's back seat. “We got secondaries!”
“How many?” Guru asked as an SA-7 flew by on the right just a hundred feet or so.
“There's a few, and they're good!”
“Fine with me!” Guru said as he jinked one last time, then headed north.
“Two's in hot!” Kara called as she took 520 in. She saw where the CO had laid his CBUs, and noted several APCs to the west of the ranch pond, along with several burning vehicles She adjusted her run and lined up the APCs in her pipper. Just like the CO, Kara ignored the flak coming up, along with somebody's SA-7 shot that was head-on, but failed to guide. Not today, Ivan... “And... And... HACK!” Kara hit the pickle button, sending her dozen Rockeyes down onto the Russians. She pulled up and away, jinking as she did and drawing a couple of failed SA-7 shots. Once clear, she called, “Two off target.”
“Not again,” the General said as Kara's F-4 came in. He took a quick glance up, and saw the big Phantom thunder past after it had released its bombs. Then the cluster bombs went off, and he knew that his command element's APCs were there. Several sympathetic detonations in the middle of the CBUs going off told him that his command BTR and at least three others had gone up, and the others were likely damaged. Shaking his head, the General got back down when the AA gunners resumed firing. More Americans were coming in.
“BULLSEYE!” Brainiac shouted in 520's back office. “And there's secondaries!”
“What kind?” Kara wanted to know. She jinked left, and saw an SA-7 fly overhead, followed by one to the right and below.
“Three or four good ones,” replied Brainiac. He looked around, checking for any heavy missiles or, if lucky, any Red Air that they could jump on. Nothing...
“Good enough for me,” said Kara as she picked up the CO and accelerated to form up on his wing.
Sweaty took her bird in next. “Three's in!” she called as she went down on the bomb run. Sweaty noticed several trucks that looked like they were trying to get away, and one of them had tracers coming from it. Gun truck with a machine gun or a ZU-23, she thought. No matter. Sweaty lined them up in her pipper and selected the gun truck as the aim point. It stopped, seemingly to give the gunner a better shot at her. Big mistake, Ivan... Sweaty ignored the tracers and at least two SA-7 shots as she lined up the target. “Coming, coming.... And... NOW!” Sweaty hit the pickle button, releasing her Rockeyes, before pulling up and getting clear. She, too, jinked to avoid the flak and any other SA-7s. Once clear, it was time for Sweaty to make her call. “Three's off target.”
“Not again,” the General muttered aloud. He heard the AA fire and the WHOOSH of several Strela shoulder-fired SAMs, but the F-4 came on in. The General heard Sweaty's F-4, then glanced up to see it pulling away, with more of those infernal CBUs going off in its wake. More of those small explosions-followed by several larger ones, meant that the Americans had scored again. Shaking his head, the General felt he had to stand up, only to get pulled back into the ditch by both his aide and the Zampolit. Before he could say a word, the AA guns, though slightly diminished, opened up again.
“GOOD HITS!” Preacher shouted from Sweaty's back seat. “And there's secondaries!”
“Good enough?” Sweaty asked, She kept jinking and watched as an SA-7 flew by on her left, followed by another.
The ex-seminarian turned WSO replied, “Rightously good!”
“Good enough for the guy upstairs, good enough for me,” Sweaty called as she saw the CO's and Kara's smoke trails, and proceeded to follow.
“Four's in!” Hoser called as he dropped down on his run. As he did, he saw armor coming north on the F.M. 532. “Got some armor on 532,” he added. Seeing that the first three in the flight had done a number on the vehicles in that field, Hoser decided that the tanks and APCs moving north were a more suitable target. He lined up the head of the column-tanks and some APCs or armored cars, looked like, and their wrecks would block the road, or so he hoped. As Hoser came in, machine guns and what looked to be 23-mm on gun trucks came up at him, but he ignored it. “Steady... Come on... Steady.....And.. And... THEY'RE OFF!” Hoser hit the pickle button, sending his dozen Rockeyes down on the armor below. He then applied power as he pulled up and away, jinking as he did, knowing that some folks down there didn't appreciate being bombed. As Hoser got clear, he called, “Four's off target.”
In the ditch, the General heard Hoser's F-4 come in, but it seemed to be further away than the previous three. Then he realized what the Phantom was going after. The tank regiment, he said to himself. The General stood up, shaking his aide and Zampolit away, and watched as the F-4 pulled up, having just released its bombs, and the usual multitude of small explosions were left in its wake. Then a number of larger ones followed, as CBU bomblets had hit tanks and APCs. Using his binoculars, the General saw it was the Regimental Reconnaissance Company that had just been hit, and now the road was blocked. With his command APC knocked out, and several other vehicles that had radios having shared that fate, the General was powerless to warn the regiment. Was the regiment's commander aware? Only one way to know as another F-4 came in, and it was aiming for the same road as this last one.
“SHACK!” KT shouted from the back seat. “Secondaries back there!”
“What kind?” Hoser asked. He didn't even see the SA-7 that flew over his left wing as he jinked right, but saw one pass underneath and go ahead.
“Good ones!”
“We'll take those,” Hoser said. “And maybe Dave Golen and Flossy can clean those guys up.” He then picked out his element lead and added some throttle to join up with Sweaty.
“Five in hot!” Dave Golen called as he went down on his bomb run. The IDF Major saw Hoser's strike and the armor he had hit, Dave saw the explosions as vehicles exploded, and picked out the rear of the colunn-well, at least the lead battalion, and went in. He, too, drew machine-gun fire, some 23-mm, and he also noticed some 57-mm from a battery of ZSU-57s. That meant this was a tank regiment, Dave knew. So much the better. As he got towards release altitude, the tanks beame more clearer, and they appeared to him to be T-54s or -55s. Just like in '73, the Yom Kippur War vet thought. Then it was time. “Steady.. And... BOMBS GONE!” Dave hit his pickle button, sending his dozen Rockeyes onto the tanks below. Just like the others, he pulled up and away, applying power and jinking as he did. When the big F-4 got clear, Dave called, “Five off target.”
The General watched, standing now, as Dave's F-4 went in on the tank regiment's lead battalion. Right now, he made a mental promise to relieve the regimental commander on the spot if the man survived, for moving a regiment on a road march when this farmland, most of which hadn't seen a tractor since the invasion, had plenty of space to disperse armor. The General saw the F-4 attack the trailing elements of the lead battalion, releasing its Cluster Bombs, and showering the trailing company in bomblets. Once again, hundreds of small explosions surrounded the tanks, then several T-55s became oily fireballs as their fuel and ammunition exploded. Then, to his surprise, a T-55 with a large antenna, followed by a pair of BTR-50 APCs with several antennae each, drove up to the stricken battalion. The Commander had decided to rally his lead battalion himself. That might be mitigating circumstances, the General thought. Then the AA guns swiveled back south and opened up again. Another F-4 was coming...
“BULLSEYE!” Oz shouted. “And there's secondaries!”
Dave smiled beneath his oxygen mask. “Just like old times, Oz.” He was recalling strikes flown with his old backseater the previous summer. “Any secondaries?”
“Several good and big ones.” Oz, too, was having flashbacks. Not here, though. Not now.
“Good enough,” Golen said. He jinked a couple more times, avoiding an SA-7 that flew over him, then he turned due north and picked up the others.
“Six is in!” Flossy in 1569 called as she went in on her strike. She saw where her element lead had put his CBUs, and where Hoser had done, and decided to hit Ivan in between. Flossy, too, drew machine-gun and 23-mm fire, and Jang called out some 57-mm fire as well, but she ignored the flak and a couple of missile trails as 1569 approached release altitude. The tanks grew larger in her pipper as she came in.. “And... And... HACK!” Flossy hit her pickle button, and more Rockeyes were on their way down onto the Russians. She pulled up and began jinking, applying power as she did, before clearing the area. Then she gave her call. “Six off target.”
“Not again,” the General said, not caring if the Zampolit heard him or not. Even the Party man would be feeling the same way, he felt. The General watched as Flossy's F-4 came in and released its ordnance, and the second company in that lead battalion was the target. Again, CBUs opened, and bomblets fell onto the T-55s, exploding several, along with that command tank and one of the APCs. The F-4 pulled clear, pursued by some 23-mm fire and a pair of Strela shoulder-fired missiles, but the aircraft got clean away. Then two more F-4s followed this last one out, but they didn't attack. What they were doing was not his concern. Getting what was left of his division able to fight was.
He would be even more worried if he knew that to the east of his location, on a nearby hill, the commander of the 9th ACR was watching. The 9th ACR had moved in as the lead of II Corps as III Corps had shifted further east, and was Ivan taking advantage of that? If he was thinking that, he'd soon have an education, for his regiment was waiting, while the 14th AD had moved south of the I-20. A little sooner than expected, but this attack had forced Sixth Army's hand, but the Soviet 32nd Army would find out that a fresh Corps had moved into the area, and would be giving out lessons. That division in front of him was a Mobilization-only unit, Corps had told him. Good. Though his Fourth Squadron didn't have Apaches, only AH-1s, an Apache Battalion from III Corps was working the area, and had been chopped to his regiment for today. Time to turn them loose, and raise hell. Then his Regiment would move forward and clean up. He motioned to his RTO, who handed him the receiver from a PRC-77 radio. He contacted his Regimental CP and issued orders. Time to get going...
“SHACK!” Jang called from 1569's back seat. “And we've got secondaries back there!”
“What kind?” Flossy asked as she dodged an SA-7 to the right, then after a jink to the right again, another one to the left.
“Good and big on those tanks! And they're still shooting back there.”
“Their problem,” Flossy said. “And I'll take those.” She then saw her element lead ahead, and moved to join up in Combat Spread.
“Flossy's out,” Guru noted. “Time to fly for ourselves. One-seven and One-eight, get your asses down and north.”
“Roger, Lead,” Paul Jackson replied for Dave Gledhill. “We're on our way out.”
A quick glance to the right of 512 revealed Kara and Brainiac in 520 right with them in Combat Spread. “Sweaty, you and Hoser with us?” Guru called.
“Right with you, Lead,” Sweaty replied.
“Five and six behind Sweaty,” Dave Golen added.
“Seven and eight are clear,” Jackson called.
“Roger that,” Guru said. “Nail, Chevy. How copy?”
“Chevy Lead, Nail,” the FAC called from his A-7K. “You got a four-decimal-zero on that. And thanks for hitting that armor that came up.”
Guru smiled beneath his oxygen mask. About time they give us some extra pats on the back. “Nail, we aim to please. We are Winchester and RTB.”
In the A-7's back seat, the FAC checked his map and the time. A few more flights were coming in, then VFR flying would be out. “Copy, Chevy. Have a nice evening, fella.”
“Roger,” Guru said. He then called the EC-130. “Hillsboro, Chevy Lead, We are Winchester and are going RTB.”
The controller replied at once. “Roger, Chevy Lead. Clear to RTB.”
Chevy Flight formed up north of the I-20 and headed for the tanker track. They hooked up with the KC-135s, and the RAF was pleased to do the same with their Tristar. After drinking some fuel, they headed back to Sheppard.
Upon arriving, the Flight was second in the pattern, behind a Marine Hornet flight from VMFA-314, before they were able to come in and land. As they taxied clear, those watching saw the canopies popped, but no fingers held up to signal kills. The crews also noticed that the TV crew wasn't filming as they taxied clear. The gentlepersons of the press, though Ms. Wendt and her crew were now widely accepted in MAG-11, were still downtown at the rally... Oh, well. “Guess they had something better to film instead of us,” Guru said as he taxed into the squadron's dispersal.
“Still at that rally,” Goalie noted. “Gives 'em something different for a change.”
“Guess so,” Guru said as he taxied into his revetment.
Sergeant Crowley gave the “Stop” signal, then the “Chocks” as the ground crew put the wheel chocks into place. Then the “Shut Down” signal came from the Crew Chief.
After shutting down, the post-flight checklist ritual went ahead, while the ground crew brought the crew ladders. Then Pilot and GIB climbed down from the aircraft. After the post-flight walkaround, Guru and Goalie came up to the Crew Chief. “Sarge,” Guru said as Crowley handed him and Goalie each a bottle of water. “Any news?”
Crowley nodded. “No ordnance guys coming, which is good. If you guys were going back out, they'd be here.”
“Always good to see,” Guru noted. “No guarantee of that, though.” They could be yapping, and the ordnance people pick that time to show up. It had happened before. “All right. Five-twelve's still truckin' like a champ. Get her prepped so that if the ordnance guys do show, she's ready. If not, get her ready for the morning.”
Crowley smiled. “Yes, sir!” Before he turned to the ground crew, he then asked the CO. “Major? When are we going to put another red star on that airplane?” He pointed to 512's scorecard on the left intake spitter.
Guru nodded. “Next time a MiG or Sukhoi gets in front of me to pose for a Sidewinder,” he said. “Haven't had much luck of that lately.”
“In time,” Goalie said as she saw Kara and Brainiac show up at the revetment's entrance. “They'll know when we do.”
“They will,” Guru nodded again. “Get her prepped.”
“Yes, sir!” Crowley said. “Okay, people! You heard the Major! Let's get this bird ready!”
As the ground crew went to work, Guru and Goalie walked to Kara and Brainiac. “How'd you do,” Guru asked.
“Hit the same place you did, pretty much,” Kara replied. “Saw your run, and the secondaries.”
“And you guys had some,” Sweaty chimed in as she, Preacher, Hoser, and KT arrived. “And Hoser there tore up some tanks.”
“They were coming up that road to the east of the target,” said Hoser. “So I took them instead.
“Always good to show initiative,” the CO said as Dave Golen and Flossy arrived. “You guys tore up some tanks?”
“We did,” the IDF Major grinned. “Saw Hoser's run and we finished up. That lead battalion, anyway.”
“And no Red Air,” Guru said. It wasn't a question.
“Too bad,” Dave Gledhill said as he and the rest of the RAF crews arrived. “Karen would like a definite kill to end the day.”
“There's always tomorrow,” Karen McKay said.
“It is that,” Guru agreed. He had similar thoughts himself, and wanted to make his Crew Chief's day by putting another red star on 512. “Okay, we need to get debriefed, and-” He was interrupted by Chief Ross showing up with a Crew-Cab pickup. “Chief?”
“Major,” Ross said. “Captain Licon sent me over to pick your flight up. The XO and Ops are still out, he says, but he got a message from MAG-11. Anyone back isn't going out again today.”
No more flying, the CO thought. Good. “All right, Chief.” He turned to the crews. “Okay, let's go debrief. You need to check your desks before heading to the Club.”
“Do we have to make the armchair warriors happy?” Sweaty asked.
“Unfortunately,” Goalie said. She was senior WSO, and had her own paperwork to deal with.
“And tomorrow, we do this all over again,” Flossy said. It wasn't a question.
Guru nodded. “You said it, I didn't. Let's go make Sin happy, then clear desks. Then we can knock off.”
Kara nodded. “You heard him.”
With that, the crews piled into the Crew-Cab, and headed back to the Squadron's office. A quick debriefing, then the armchair warriors needed to be fought... Only then could they unwind.