Congrats on surviving.jemhouston wrote: ↑Fri Feb 24, 2023 3:31 pmBack in the early 80s, while I was still living in Cedar Rapids, I drove back from home one Sunday. It was just after sunset, and the I-380 suddenly got icy. I did a 360 into the ditch along with a half dozen other cars.Wolfman wrote: ↑Fri Feb 24, 2023 3:06 pmPart of the problem is that we don’t get snow, we get ice, and I defy anyone to try driving on a sheet of solid ice!jemhouston wrote: ↑Fri Feb 24, 2023 11:10 am
If it's like Houston, TX, shut down the freeways due to all the overpasses, tell everyone to stay home, and the TV news saying it's the end times.
https://twitter.com/LAmag/status/1628999637209165826
Wolverine and Chiefs
Re: Wolverine and Chiefs
“For a brick, he flew pretty good!” Sgt. Major A.J. Johnson, Halo 2
To err is human; to forgive is not SAC policy.
“This is Raven 2-5. This is my sandbox. You will not drop, acknowledge.” David Flanagan, former Raven FAC
To err is human; to forgive is not SAC policy.
“This is Raven 2-5. This is my sandbox. You will not drop, acknowledge.” David Flanagan, former Raven FAC
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jemhouston
- Posts: 4200
- Joined: Fri Nov 18, 2022 12:38 am
Re: Wolverine and Chiefs
Thanks, but I don't think anyone was injured, no cars overturned.
My Dad's comment when I told him, "Good you're okay, but I told you should have left sooner." When he's right, he's right.
My Dad's comment when I told him, "Good you're okay, but I told you should have left sooner." When he's right, he's right.
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Matt Wiser
- Posts: 858
- Joined: Fri Nov 18, 2022 2:48 am
- Location: Auberry, CA
Re: Wolverine and Chiefs
Part I of the Stand-down:
335th TFS Officer Billeting ,Sheppard AFB, TX: 14 February, 1988. 0730 Hours Central War Time:
In the CO's tent, Guru's eyes came open. He rolled over on his side and checked the time on the alarm clock next to the camp bed. The clock said 0731. He sighed, realizing that he was now wide awake, then he turned and saw Goalie's bare chest and belly, blankets way down. They had awakened about a couple of hours earlier, and gone at it one more time, then had fallen back asleep. Making up for lost time, both felt. He sat up in bed, and that woke up Goalie.
“What time is it?” She asked.
“Just after 7:30,” he replied.
“How many times did we do it?” Goalie wondered. She knew the answer already. Enough.
“Well, we made up for lost time,” Guru said. He got up, threw on a robe, and went to the door. He rolled up the window cover and saw the weather people got it right. A nice blanket of white covered the tents and ground, and no doubt, the rest of the base. “Weather folks were on the ball, for once. About four to six inches on the ground.”
“Still snowing?”
“Uh-huh,” Guru said. “You getting up?”
“I'm not ready. Wake me when you come back with some food,” Goalie nodded. “Besides, this tent's more than a few degrees warmer than it is outside. With that, she covered herself, rolled over, and closed her eyes.
Guru nodded back. “Always listen to one's GIB,” he said quietly. The CO did a quick shave, then he got into cold-weather flying gear before he headed off to the Squadron's Office. Touching base with the Exec before getting some food was his usual routine on stand-downs, and he saw no reason to change.
The CO went through the still falling snow to the Squadron's offices. Prewar, they had belonged to a Flying Training Squadron, and during the Occupation, first Soviets, then Cubans, had been in residence. After 23rd ID had retaken the base during PRAIRIE FIRE II, MAG-11 had arrived, and the 335th moved in
When he got there, he found the Day-shift SDO, 1st Lt. Brian Slater. With his flight not on the roster of those sitting Zulu (Air Defense) Alert, he was taking his turn as SDO. “Major,” Slater nodded. “The cat finally dragged you in.”
“Always take advantage of a chance to sleep in,” Major Wiser said firmly. “Anything happening that I should know?”
“Nothing much overnight, other than weather,” Slater replied. He handed the CO a message form. “You're going to want to have Squadron Leader Gledhill see this.”
The Major scanned the form. It was a warning that sometime in the next two to three weeks, that 74 Squadron would be heading to San Diego to turn their aircraft back to the U.S. Navy. Their F-4Js had been originally leased from the Navy, and now, the Navy wanted the survivors back. Even if they were only fit to be stripped for parts and then scrapped. “It was bound to come sooner or later,” he said. “I'll show this next time I see him,” Guru nodded as he stuffed the paper in a flight suit pocket. “XO in?”
“He's in your office.”
Guru looked towards his office, and sure enough, the XO was there, waiting. “How long?”
“Only about five minutes, Boss,” Slater replied.
Nodding, the CO went to his office, said a “Good Morning” to his secretary, Staff Sergeant Trish Lord, then he went in. “Mark,”Guru said as he opened the door.
“Boss,” The XO, Capt. Mark Ellis, replied. He had a clipboard in one hand and a cup of hot chocolate in the other. That, he handed to the CO. “Got a few things for you this snowy morning.”
Guru nodded. “Make the weather the first thing, if you please.”
“Ask, and ye shall receive,” Ellis said, handing the CO the weather report. “Steady snow until at least noon, with IFR flight rules until then at least,” the XO reported. “Clearing after that, but partly cloudy until after midnight. VFR should return after 1500. Highs in the mid-to-upper 30s, and lows in the upper 20s-low 30s.”
Guru looked at the report. “Lovely,” he said. “Okay, what's up admin-wise?”
“Morning reports for Tenth Air Force and MAG-11,” said the XO.
Guru skimmed through the reports, then signed them. “Aircraft Status Report?” He wanted to know.
“Ten birds, not counting the alert force, ready for anything with a thirty-minute notice,” Ellis replied. “The rest...”
“Are all down for maintenance until this afternoon,” Guru finished. He thought for a moment. “Okay, call Kerry Collins.” Capt. Kerry Collins was the Squadron's Ordnance Officer. “Have those ten prepped with an air-to-air loadout, just in case. And have some air-to-ground ordnance ready, in case we get called for that this afternoon.”
“That's assuming the weather clears,” the XO pointed out.
Guru nodded. “Yeah,” he acknowledged. “Still, do it anyway. If there's a Scud attack, we might be the ones called to return the favor.”
Ellis understood. “Got it.”
“Anything else?”
“Just supply requisitions,” Ellis said. “The usual, plus there's a bonus at the request of Chief Ross.”
Guru scanned the paper. “Brake fluid, Hydraulic fluid, glass cleaner for canopies... What's this?” He looked up at the XO. “Five hundred canned hams? That's for horse-trading, I gather?”
“You got it.”
The CO signed the forms. Then he remembered something. “Here,” he said, taking the paper Brian Slater had given him. “The RAF is headed to San Diego sometime soon.”
“Gonna miss those guys,” Ellis said after reading. “They've bailed us out of quite a few jams.”
Guru nodded. “Yeah, and Dave Gledhill told me that four to six of them-half pilots, half GIBs, aren't going back across the Pond after some down time in San Diego.”
“Boss?”
“He told me a few days ago that the RAF is getting some birds-E models-off the Japan production line, and they'll have enough for two full squadrons. Think of that as the UK's contribution to the war down here.”
Ellis nodded. “They going to be with us the rest of the way?”The unspoken addition was “With Ninth or Tenth Air Forces?”
“He didn't say,” Guru replied. “But that's probably how it's going to be. Even if 'rest of the way' means Mexico City.”
“And they get the full course at Kingsley Field? Not just air-to-air, but the full air-to-ground syllabus?”
“You said it. I didn't. Anything else, Mark?”
:
The XO shook his head. “That's it for now, Boss.”
Nodding, Guru said, “Okay, I can head off to breakfast, and bring some back for Goalie. We pretty much wore each other out last night.”
“That's exactly what Don Van Loan said about himself and Sweaty. Word for word, about fifteen minutes ago.”
Guru got up. “One thing the not-so-dearly departed Frank never understood: wartime romances. Want to bet he tried to pick up one or two of the first crop of female pilots and GIBs, only to get turned down?”
A light turned on in Ellis' head. “That would explain a lot. Including trying to get you and Goalie on a fraternization rap not long after she-and Sweaty-arrived.”
“It would,” Guru noted. “Okay, I'm headed to the chow tent. Oh, pass the word to everybody to try and work in some time in the Fitness Center. Doc's no doubt checking off names again, and I don't want him on my ass about that.”
“Will do.”
With that, the CO headed off to the Officer's Mess Tent, and as he ate, noticed Kara, Sweaty, Van Loan, Kerry Collins, and several others finally dragging themselves in. No surprise, since on stand-down days, everyone who could tried to sleep in as long as possible. He was halfway through his meal when Colonel Brady came in. “Major, mind if I sit?”
“Not at all, sir,” Guru replied. “Just pull up a chair.”
“Don't mind if I do,” Brady said. After doing so, the MAG-11 CO looked around. He saw that people were just trickling in. Not unusual on a stand-down. “Major, got a question.”
“Ask away, Colonel,” Guru said, in between bites of egg and sausage.
“There's a shrink over in MAG-11's Medical Department. He treats PTSD patients in civilian life, and he's wondering if our guest has had any...issues,” Brady said. He was referring to Ms. Mason.
“Not that I've seen, Colonel,” Guru said. “Then again, anyone with the kind of experiences she's had-and not just as a guerilla, mind, but that run-in she and her sister had on Day One with those Russian Paratroopers? That would give anyone nightmares.”
Brady nodded. He knew of former POWs who had endured the harshest of what the North Vietnamese had inflicted, came home, only to have some problems months or a few years after returning home. And there were those who had had not the slightest problems, even those held for months or years longer than he had been. “You told me when she got here you wouldn't be surprised if she does have demons.”
“Yes, sir,” Guru said. “And no doubt, she's doing what she can to keep that beast at bay, penned up, and double-locked. Which can take years, even decades, to escape, if at all.”
“I know, Major. Still, this shrink wants us to keep a discrete eye out. Just in case.”
“I'll let my people know,” said Guru. He turned, and saw the object of their conversation going through the chow line. “And speaking of which...”
“Hm?” Brady asked, then he saw her as she came over. “Ah. I see..”
“Colonel? Major?” Erica asked. “Mind if I have a seat?”
“Not at all,” the Colonel said. “Have a seat.”
Erica smiled as she put her tray on the table and sat down. “I'm not interrupting anything?”
“No, just two commanders talking shop,” Brady said cheerfully. “Have a good night's sleep?”
“Slept like a baby,” She smiled.
“Good to hear,” Brady said. “Speaking of shop, Major. Tenth Air Force notified me. There's going to be some recognition in about two weeks or so for the people who flew BOLO II.”
“What's that?” Erica asked.
“It's a strike we flew a few weeks ago,” Guru said. “We put the hurt on some of the Russians' deep-strike air assets and tore the guts out of two fighter groups using the same field at the same time.”
Brady added, “It was a joint effort, Erica. Air Force, Marines, the RAF.” He pointed at some RAF aircrew who were going through the chow line, then went on, “And we taught them a few lessons.”
“Chief among them?” Guru said. “”You should've stayed home.' Followed by 'You messed with the wrong people.'”
Hearing that, Erica smiled. “Major, I like the sound of that.”
“Speaking of recognition, Erica,” Brady said. “Don't you have some kind of rally in town today?” One part of Erica's tour was doing rallies in the cities and towns she visited. And Wichita Falls was no different.
Erica shook her head. “Whoever put my schedule together didn't take the weather into mind when they did that. It's been put back a couple of days.”
“General Winter strikes again,” Brady noted.
“It does,” Guru said. He finished his food, then nodded. “Colonel, if you and Erica don't mind, I've got to take some food to my GIB, who is still asleep, and then deal with squadron business.”
“Not at all, Major,” Brady said. He knew full well the armchair warriors had to be dealt with. “You have a good day.”
“Thank you, sir,” Guru replied. “Erica,” he nodded. Then the 335th CO headed on out.
After dropping off the food at his tent, where Goalie had just awakened, Guru went back to his office. There, he found that Mark had been back, and had filtered the paperwork, for the IN box was only about half as full as it had been when he first got there. The XO filtered things out-taking care of things that the XO could handle, and only leaving the really important material for the CO's attention. Just as he had done for Colonel Rivers when Guru had been Exec.... After getting a cup of coffee, he began to attack the papers.
Guru had gone through a bunch of enlisted evaluations, supply issues-and what was it with those assholes in Supply anyway? They had an attitude that seemed to be “I'm not parting with what you need until I think you need it.” Well, Guru thought to himself, if you weren't a bunch of stick-in-the-muds, we wouldn't need those midnight raids on your depots to get what we need-and the CO knew full well his squadron wasn't the only unit so engaged in that activity. Shaking his head at that, Guru had just put the requisitions in the OUT box when there was a knock on the door. “Yeah? Come on in and show yourself!”
Squadron Leader Dave Gledhill came in. “Guru,” Gledhill nodded. “I've got something you've been expecting, but probably don't want to hear.”
“Let me guess: You've got your date with the Navy in San Diego.” By Guru's tone of voice, it wasn't a question.
“Correct,” Gledhill put a piece of paper on the CO's desk. “In two to three weeks. Exact date still to be decided.”
Guru read it, and it jived with what Mark had shown and told him earlier that morning. But the RAF's own paper trail had to catch up. He handed the paper back to Gledhill. “For what it's worth, Dave, Mark told me something similar a couple of hours ago.”
“Ah, MAG-11 was notified, and they passed it to you.”
“Something like that,” Guru said. “Okay, Dave, we still have two or three weeks together. You guys have been lucky so far with just one loss, and that was on your first day.”
Gledhill nodded, knowing full well what Guru was referring to. Flight Lts. Ian Black and Chris Fryer had been shot down on the last mission of 74 Squadron's first day of combat in theater, and though they had been seen to eject, they had no chance to evade, as Russian troops and APCs had been seen closing in on them. There had been no news since, and both were still listed as MIAs. “So far, so good, but we still have time to get through before going to San Diego.”
“Any word on who's staying to go up to Kingsley Field?” Guru asked. That was the F-4 RTU for the West Coast, and where replacement aircrews-and those returning to the fight from stays in the hospital or extended E&Es-like Guru had once-qualified or requalified on the F-4. And with the Japan production line turning out F-4Es and RF-4Cs, that meant learning not just air-to-air, but air-to-ground as well.
Gledhill shook his head. “Not quite yet,” he said. “Though Karen McKay and Susan Napier both said they want to stay on.” It was now an open secret in MAG-11 that the RAF would be forming two new F-4E squadrons with birds from Japan, and that would be their contribution to the war in the Southern Theater.
“And you?” Guru wanted to know.
“Back to Blighty for me,” Gledhill said. “Then it's probably the Tornado, either GR or F for someone like me.”
“Still, you're lucky. Some time away from the war zone to rest and recharge-more than a two-week R&R, mind-should be appreciated.”
“Believe me, it will be,” said Gledhill. Then there was a knock on the door.
“Yeah?” Guru said. “Come in and show yourself!”
Goalie came in, looking quite human after finally waking, eating, and getting cleaned up. “Got something for you,” she said, handing Guru some papers. “One of my airmen wants to go to Airman to Pilot.”
Guru took the application. “Airman First Class Sean Casey. Five semesters at BYU, A average. Joined the Air Force when the money ran out..” He went on. “Dual Major-Math and Education?”
“He wants to be a Math teacher when he leaves the Air Force.”
“Hmm...He's got 20/10 vision? That and a Math Major? They'll snap him up for Flight just like that,” Guru said, snapping a finger. “He does know that if the war ended the day he gets winged, he still has a commitment to the Air Force?” And that, Guru knew, was twelve years.
“That he does,” Goalie said.
Guru nodded, then wrote APPROVED on the paper, signed it, and handed it back to Goalie. “Get that off, and tell him to pack his bags for Vandenberg. When the Review Board sees this? They'll want him bad.”
“That's what I told him,” Goalie said.
“Okay....” Then both Goalie and Gledhill saw that the CO was in thought.
“What's up?” Goalie asked.
“How many birds do we have not in maintenance or on alert?” Guru asked. Though he knew, he wanted to see if Goalie did as well.
She nodded. “Ten. Ours, the XO's flight, and Dave Golen's element.”
Guru nodded himself. “All right: tell Kerry Collins.” Capt. Kerry Collins was the 335th's Ordnance Officer. “I told Mark to let him know, but confirm it anyway. I want those ten birds armed.” Seeing Goalie nod, he went on. “Loaded for air-to-air. Four Sidewinders, two Sparrow-Fs, ECM pod, and full gun.”
“You think Ivan may be up to something?”
“No, but it's something that can't be ruled out,” Guru said. “They may not risk their remaining Fencers on a full regimental strike, but sending a squadron's worth? Or Fitters? Different story.”
“And coming soon after a storm passes...” Goalie finished. She thought for a moment herself. “It's something I'd do.”
“Same here,” Dave Gledhill added. “We can have four of ours loaded with four Sky Flash, four Sidewinders, and a gun pod.”
“Fine with me,” Guru said. “I'll clear it with Colonel Brady. Goalie? Tell our flight, the XO's, and Dave Golen's element to keep their flight gear close by the rest of the day. They carry on as normal on a stand-down, but keep that gear handy, just in case. If anybody hasn't hit the gym? Tell 'em to do that right now. We're on this until Sunset.”
“Got you,” Goalie said firmly. “I'm gone.” She headed out the door.
“Dave, just hope I'm just being cautious,” the CO said.
“Nothing wrong with that, but what if it's reconnaissance Foxbats? Not much we can do about those,” Gledhill pointed out. The MiG-25RB Foxbat reconnaissance bomber could fly above 60,000 feet, and even if needing two wing tanks and a centerline one, could still carry four 1100-lb bombs, and do so from a field like Gray AAF.
“I know, but at least we'll clear some of the field, and if somebody's following the Foxbats? We'll be ready for them.”
“And so we will,” Gledhill nodded. Having a rude surprise waiting for Ivan, who might be hoping he wouldn't be intercepted, was a good idea.
Guru nodded agreement. One thing about Dave, he thought, was that the RAF Squadron Leader made a good sounding board. One thing about him that he'd miss. Oh, well. “Dave, get your four birds prepped, and warn the crews, just as I told Goalie. Hit the gym now, and then have their flight gear handy the rest of the day.”
“On the way,” Gledhill said, then he headed out the office door.
After Gledhill left, Guru called Colonel Brady to inform him of what the 335th and RAF had in prep. Brady listened for a few moments, then replied, “Good thinking, Major. I'll have a few Hornet drivers prepped and ready along those lines, and get some Seabees to clear the squadron dispersals.” After the MAG-11 CO said that, Guru could hear Brady giving those orders. “Major, this might not be needed, but...”
“Better safe than sorry, sir.”
“My thoughts exactly, Major.”
Guru then went to the Men's Locker Room, got his flight hear-helmet, G-suit, survival vest, and harness, then headed for his tent, and changed into his workout gear. But he also put a bag together with his cold-weather flight gear. Then as he went to the Gym, he could hear the snow blowers already at work, clearing the dispersals. As he got to the gym entrance, he saw both Doc Waters and the RAF Flight Surgeon sitting outside, dressed for the weather, coffee cups and thermos handy, and clipboards waiting. “You guys checking off names?” Guru asked, knowing full well the answer.
“With nothing but sports injuries and flight physicals?” Doc replied. “Have to stay busy somehow.” And the RAF Flight Surgeon, a Flight Lieutenant if Guru read the insignia right, simply nodded.
“Figures.” Guru nodded, then went into the tent. Space heaters made sure it stayed warm, and the 335th CO noted with appreciation that those contacted were already taking his advice, for Kara, Brainiac, Sweaty, Preacher, and Goalie had their flight gear close by. Guru found a treadmill and proceeded to get in his four miles, and as he did, other crewers-AF, RAF, and Marine, came in, similarly prepared as he was, and among them was Colonel Brady. One thing about the MAG-11 CO, was that he found time to fly at least two missions a day, even if most of his time was spent dealing with what would be in the Air Force, a Wing Commander's responsibilities.
After time on the weight machines and lifting some weights, something he knew the Sawbones would appreciate, Guru got a quick shower, then changed into his cold-weather flight gear: long underwear, then a sweatshirt, followed by a cold-weather flight suit. He then took his other gear with him back to the office, and found several of his flight there as well. They, too, were waiting for a siren that might or might not sound. “Where's Kara and Preacher?” Guru asked.
Sweaty replied. “Getting lunch,” she said. “Boss, you sure this is a good idea?”
“I know, the weather's almost as bad for them as it is for us, but....If they get their runways clear and we don't...”
“I get it,” Sweaty nodded. “Not a good thing.”
“No,” the CO replied as Goalie came in with their lunch.
Over lunch, which was BBQ chicken with mac and cheese and cole slaw, the two discussed squadron business. One thing Goalie wanted when it came to replacement WSOs was finding people who were combat-experienced, but had done some time as an RTU instructor before returning to combat, or, failing that, had requalified after a spell in the hospital. Though people weren't being rotated in and out of the war zone like in past conflicts, some experienced aircrew were being transferred-usually against the wishes of their COs, to be RTU instructors. Guru's old GIB, Tony Carpenter, had done a tour at Kingsley Field after their Resistance time, before going to Clark AB in the Philippines and the 3rd TFW. Much to his old friend's regret.
“No guarantees, but Ross knows people in Officer Detailing,” Guru replied. “I'll let him know.”
“And anything that keeps you from the letter-writing business is something you like.”
“Yeah.”
They had just discussed the RAF's departure in the next few weeks, when Guru looked outside. The snow had stopped, and the sky was getting brighter. Not quite good enough for VFR flying or strikes, but up high was a different matter, he knew. The CO then checked the time: 1245. He was about to say something to Goalie when the siren sounded, then the PA barked. “For the Alert Force, For the Alert Force: SCRAMBLE! SCRAMBLE! SCRAMBLE!”
“Do we?” Goalie asked, then she saw him nod, then get into his G-Suit, vest and harness. All the while doing the same.
Guru and Goalie ran out the office door, helmets in hand, and saw their flight hurredly getting their flight gear on. “Boss, do we..” Kara asked, knowng full well what the answer would be.
“We're going!” Guru said firmly. “Mount your aircraft!” The CO and his GIB were the first out the door after the alert flight.
335th TFS Officer Billeting ,Sheppard AFB, TX: 14 February, 1988. 0730 Hours Central War Time:
In the CO's tent, Guru's eyes came open. He rolled over on his side and checked the time on the alarm clock next to the camp bed. The clock said 0731. He sighed, realizing that he was now wide awake, then he turned and saw Goalie's bare chest and belly, blankets way down. They had awakened about a couple of hours earlier, and gone at it one more time, then had fallen back asleep. Making up for lost time, both felt. He sat up in bed, and that woke up Goalie.
“What time is it?” She asked.
“Just after 7:30,” he replied.
“How many times did we do it?” Goalie wondered. She knew the answer already. Enough.
“Well, we made up for lost time,” Guru said. He got up, threw on a robe, and went to the door. He rolled up the window cover and saw the weather people got it right. A nice blanket of white covered the tents and ground, and no doubt, the rest of the base. “Weather folks were on the ball, for once. About four to six inches on the ground.”
“Still snowing?”
“Uh-huh,” Guru said. “You getting up?”
“I'm not ready. Wake me when you come back with some food,” Goalie nodded. “Besides, this tent's more than a few degrees warmer than it is outside. With that, she covered herself, rolled over, and closed her eyes.
Guru nodded back. “Always listen to one's GIB,” he said quietly. The CO did a quick shave, then he got into cold-weather flying gear before he headed off to the Squadron's Office. Touching base with the Exec before getting some food was his usual routine on stand-downs, and he saw no reason to change.
The CO went through the still falling snow to the Squadron's offices. Prewar, they had belonged to a Flying Training Squadron, and during the Occupation, first Soviets, then Cubans, had been in residence. After 23rd ID had retaken the base during PRAIRIE FIRE II, MAG-11 had arrived, and the 335th moved in
When he got there, he found the Day-shift SDO, 1st Lt. Brian Slater. With his flight not on the roster of those sitting Zulu (Air Defense) Alert, he was taking his turn as SDO. “Major,” Slater nodded. “The cat finally dragged you in.”
“Always take advantage of a chance to sleep in,” Major Wiser said firmly. “Anything happening that I should know?”
“Nothing much overnight, other than weather,” Slater replied. He handed the CO a message form. “You're going to want to have Squadron Leader Gledhill see this.”
The Major scanned the form. It was a warning that sometime in the next two to three weeks, that 74 Squadron would be heading to San Diego to turn their aircraft back to the U.S. Navy. Their F-4Js had been originally leased from the Navy, and now, the Navy wanted the survivors back. Even if they were only fit to be stripped for parts and then scrapped. “It was bound to come sooner or later,” he said. “I'll show this next time I see him,” Guru nodded as he stuffed the paper in a flight suit pocket. “XO in?”
“He's in your office.”
Guru looked towards his office, and sure enough, the XO was there, waiting. “How long?”
“Only about five minutes, Boss,” Slater replied.
Nodding, the CO went to his office, said a “Good Morning” to his secretary, Staff Sergeant Trish Lord, then he went in. “Mark,”Guru said as he opened the door.
“Boss,” The XO, Capt. Mark Ellis, replied. He had a clipboard in one hand and a cup of hot chocolate in the other. That, he handed to the CO. “Got a few things for you this snowy morning.”
Guru nodded. “Make the weather the first thing, if you please.”
“Ask, and ye shall receive,” Ellis said, handing the CO the weather report. “Steady snow until at least noon, with IFR flight rules until then at least,” the XO reported. “Clearing after that, but partly cloudy until after midnight. VFR should return after 1500. Highs in the mid-to-upper 30s, and lows in the upper 20s-low 30s.”
Guru looked at the report. “Lovely,” he said. “Okay, what's up admin-wise?”
“Morning reports for Tenth Air Force and MAG-11,” said the XO.
Guru skimmed through the reports, then signed them. “Aircraft Status Report?” He wanted to know.
“Ten birds, not counting the alert force, ready for anything with a thirty-minute notice,” Ellis replied. “The rest...”
“Are all down for maintenance until this afternoon,” Guru finished. He thought for a moment. “Okay, call Kerry Collins.” Capt. Kerry Collins was the Squadron's Ordnance Officer. “Have those ten prepped with an air-to-air loadout, just in case. And have some air-to-ground ordnance ready, in case we get called for that this afternoon.”
“That's assuming the weather clears,” the XO pointed out.
Guru nodded. “Yeah,” he acknowledged. “Still, do it anyway. If there's a Scud attack, we might be the ones called to return the favor.”
Ellis understood. “Got it.”
“Anything else?”
“Just supply requisitions,” Ellis said. “The usual, plus there's a bonus at the request of Chief Ross.”
Guru scanned the paper. “Brake fluid, Hydraulic fluid, glass cleaner for canopies... What's this?” He looked up at the XO. “Five hundred canned hams? That's for horse-trading, I gather?”
“You got it.”
The CO signed the forms. Then he remembered something. “Here,” he said, taking the paper Brian Slater had given him. “The RAF is headed to San Diego sometime soon.”
“Gonna miss those guys,” Ellis said after reading. “They've bailed us out of quite a few jams.”
Guru nodded. “Yeah, and Dave Gledhill told me that four to six of them-half pilots, half GIBs, aren't going back across the Pond after some down time in San Diego.”
“Boss?”
“He told me a few days ago that the RAF is getting some birds-E models-off the Japan production line, and they'll have enough for two full squadrons. Think of that as the UK's contribution to the war down here.”
Ellis nodded. “They going to be with us the rest of the way?”The unspoken addition was “With Ninth or Tenth Air Forces?”
“He didn't say,” Guru replied. “But that's probably how it's going to be. Even if 'rest of the way' means Mexico City.”
“And they get the full course at Kingsley Field? Not just air-to-air, but the full air-to-ground syllabus?”
“You said it. I didn't. Anything else, Mark?”
:
The XO shook his head. “That's it for now, Boss.”
Nodding, Guru said, “Okay, I can head off to breakfast, and bring some back for Goalie. We pretty much wore each other out last night.”
“That's exactly what Don Van Loan said about himself and Sweaty. Word for word, about fifteen minutes ago.”
Guru got up. “One thing the not-so-dearly departed Frank never understood: wartime romances. Want to bet he tried to pick up one or two of the first crop of female pilots and GIBs, only to get turned down?”
A light turned on in Ellis' head. “That would explain a lot. Including trying to get you and Goalie on a fraternization rap not long after she-and Sweaty-arrived.”
“It would,” Guru noted. “Okay, I'm headed to the chow tent. Oh, pass the word to everybody to try and work in some time in the Fitness Center. Doc's no doubt checking off names again, and I don't want him on my ass about that.”
“Will do.”
With that, the CO headed off to the Officer's Mess Tent, and as he ate, noticed Kara, Sweaty, Van Loan, Kerry Collins, and several others finally dragging themselves in. No surprise, since on stand-down days, everyone who could tried to sleep in as long as possible. He was halfway through his meal when Colonel Brady came in. “Major, mind if I sit?”
“Not at all, sir,” Guru replied. “Just pull up a chair.”
“Don't mind if I do,” Brady said. After doing so, the MAG-11 CO looked around. He saw that people were just trickling in. Not unusual on a stand-down. “Major, got a question.”
“Ask away, Colonel,” Guru said, in between bites of egg and sausage.
“There's a shrink over in MAG-11's Medical Department. He treats PTSD patients in civilian life, and he's wondering if our guest has had any...issues,” Brady said. He was referring to Ms. Mason.
“Not that I've seen, Colonel,” Guru said. “Then again, anyone with the kind of experiences she's had-and not just as a guerilla, mind, but that run-in she and her sister had on Day One with those Russian Paratroopers? That would give anyone nightmares.”
Brady nodded. He knew of former POWs who had endured the harshest of what the North Vietnamese had inflicted, came home, only to have some problems months or a few years after returning home. And there were those who had had not the slightest problems, even those held for months or years longer than he had been. “You told me when she got here you wouldn't be surprised if she does have demons.”
“Yes, sir,” Guru said. “And no doubt, she's doing what she can to keep that beast at bay, penned up, and double-locked. Which can take years, even decades, to escape, if at all.”
“I know, Major. Still, this shrink wants us to keep a discrete eye out. Just in case.”
“I'll let my people know,” said Guru. He turned, and saw the object of their conversation going through the chow line. “And speaking of which...”
“Hm?” Brady asked, then he saw her as she came over. “Ah. I see..”
“Colonel? Major?” Erica asked. “Mind if I have a seat?”
“Not at all,” the Colonel said. “Have a seat.”
Erica smiled as she put her tray on the table and sat down. “I'm not interrupting anything?”
“No, just two commanders talking shop,” Brady said cheerfully. “Have a good night's sleep?”
“Slept like a baby,” She smiled.
“Good to hear,” Brady said. “Speaking of shop, Major. Tenth Air Force notified me. There's going to be some recognition in about two weeks or so for the people who flew BOLO II.”
“What's that?” Erica asked.
“It's a strike we flew a few weeks ago,” Guru said. “We put the hurt on some of the Russians' deep-strike air assets and tore the guts out of two fighter groups using the same field at the same time.”
Brady added, “It was a joint effort, Erica. Air Force, Marines, the RAF.” He pointed at some RAF aircrew who were going through the chow line, then went on, “And we taught them a few lessons.”
“Chief among them?” Guru said. “”You should've stayed home.' Followed by 'You messed with the wrong people.'”
Hearing that, Erica smiled. “Major, I like the sound of that.”
“Speaking of recognition, Erica,” Brady said. “Don't you have some kind of rally in town today?” One part of Erica's tour was doing rallies in the cities and towns she visited. And Wichita Falls was no different.
Erica shook her head. “Whoever put my schedule together didn't take the weather into mind when they did that. It's been put back a couple of days.”
“General Winter strikes again,” Brady noted.
“It does,” Guru said. He finished his food, then nodded. “Colonel, if you and Erica don't mind, I've got to take some food to my GIB, who is still asleep, and then deal with squadron business.”
“Not at all, Major,” Brady said. He knew full well the armchair warriors had to be dealt with. “You have a good day.”
“Thank you, sir,” Guru replied. “Erica,” he nodded. Then the 335th CO headed on out.
After dropping off the food at his tent, where Goalie had just awakened, Guru went back to his office. There, he found that Mark had been back, and had filtered the paperwork, for the IN box was only about half as full as it had been when he first got there. The XO filtered things out-taking care of things that the XO could handle, and only leaving the really important material for the CO's attention. Just as he had done for Colonel Rivers when Guru had been Exec.... After getting a cup of coffee, he began to attack the papers.
Guru had gone through a bunch of enlisted evaluations, supply issues-and what was it with those assholes in Supply anyway? They had an attitude that seemed to be “I'm not parting with what you need until I think you need it.” Well, Guru thought to himself, if you weren't a bunch of stick-in-the-muds, we wouldn't need those midnight raids on your depots to get what we need-and the CO knew full well his squadron wasn't the only unit so engaged in that activity. Shaking his head at that, Guru had just put the requisitions in the OUT box when there was a knock on the door. “Yeah? Come on in and show yourself!”
Squadron Leader Dave Gledhill came in. “Guru,” Gledhill nodded. “I've got something you've been expecting, but probably don't want to hear.”
“Let me guess: You've got your date with the Navy in San Diego.” By Guru's tone of voice, it wasn't a question.
“Correct,” Gledhill put a piece of paper on the CO's desk. “In two to three weeks. Exact date still to be decided.”
Guru read it, and it jived with what Mark had shown and told him earlier that morning. But the RAF's own paper trail had to catch up. He handed the paper back to Gledhill. “For what it's worth, Dave, Mark told me something similar a couple of hours ago.”
“Ah, MAG-11 was notified, and they passed it to you.”
“Something like that,” Guru said. “Okay, Dave, we still have two or three weeks together. You guys have been lucky so far with just one loss, and that was on your first day.”
Gledhill nodded, knowing full well what Guru was referring to. Flight Lts. Ian Black and Chris Fryer had been shot down on the last mission of 74 Squadron's first day of combat in theater, and though they had been seen to eject, they had no chance to evade, as Russian troops and APCs had been seen closing in on them. There had been no news since, and both were still listed as MIAs. “So far, so good, but we still have time to get through before going to San Diego.”
“Any word on who's staying to go up to Kingsley Field?” Guru asked. That was the F-4 RTU for the West Coast, and where replacement aircrews-and those returning to the fight from stays in the hospital or extended E&Es-like Guru had once-qualified or requalified on the F-4. And with the Japan production line turning out F-4Es and RF-4Cs, that meant learning not just air-to-air, but air-to-ground as well.
Gledhill shook his head. “Not quite yet,” he said. “Though Karen McKay and Susan Napier both said they want to stay on.” It was now an open secret in MAG-11 that the RAF would be forming two new F-4E squadrons with birds from Japan, and that would be their contribution to the war in the Southern Theater.
“And you?” Guru wanted to know.
“Back to Blighty for me,” Gledhill said. “Then it's probably the Tornado, either GR or F for someone like me.”
“Still, you're lucky. Some time away from the war zone to rest and recharge-more than a two-week R&R, mind-should be appreciated.”
“Believe me, it will be,” said Gledhill. Then there was a knock on the door.
“Yeah?” Guru said. “Come in and show yourself!”
Goalie came in, looking quite human after finally waking, eating, and getting cleaned up. “Got something for you,” she said, handing Guru some papers. “One of my airmen wants to go to Airman to Pilot.”
Guru took the application. “Airman First Class Sean Casey. Five semesters at BYU, A average. Joined the Air Force when the money ran out..” He went on. “Dual Major-Math and Education?”
“He wants to be a Math teacher when he leaves the Air Force.”
“Hmm...He's got 20/10 vision? That and a Math Major? They'll snap him up for Flight just like that,” Guru said, snapping a finger. “He does know that if the war ended the day he gets winged, he still has a commitment to the Air Force?” And that, Guru knew, was twelve years.
“That he does,” Goalie said.
Guru nodded, then wrote APPROVED on the paper, signed it, and handed it back to Goalie. “Get that off, and tell him to pack his bags for Vandenberg. When the Review Board sees this? They'll want him bad.”
“That's what I told him,” Goalie said.
“Okay....” Then both Goalie and Gledhill saw that the CO was in thought.
“What's up?” Goalie asked.
“How many birds do we have not in maintenance or on alert?” Guru asked. Though he knew, he wanted to see if Goalie did as well.
She nodded. “Ten. Ours, the XO's flight, and Dave Golen's element.”
Guru nodded himself. “All right: tell Kerry Collins.” Capt. Kerry Collins was the 335th's Ordnance Officer. “I told Mark to let him know, but confirm it anyway. I want those ten birds armed.” Seeing Goalie nod, he went on. “Loaded for air-to-air. Four Sidewinders, two Sparrow-Fs, ECM pod, and full gun.”
“You think Ivan may be up to something?”
“No, but it's something that can't be ruled out,” Guru said. “They may not risk their remaining Fencers on a full regimental strike, but sending a squadron's worth? Or Fitters? Different story.”
“And coming soon after a storm passes...” Goalie finished. She thought for a moment herself. “It's something I'd do.”
“Same here,” Dave Gledhill added. “We can have four of ours loaded with four Sky Flash, four Sidewinders, and a gun pod.”
“Fine with me,” Guru said. “I'll clear it with Colonel Brady. Goalie? Tell our flight, the XO's, and Dave Golen's element to keep their flight gear close by the rest of the day. They carry on as normal on a stand-down, but keep that gear handy, just in case. If anybody hasn't hit the gym? Tell 'em to do that right now. We're on this until Sunset.”
“Got you,” Goalie said firmly. “I'm gone.” She headed out the door.
“Dave, just hope I'm just being cautious,” the CO said.
“Nothing wrong with that, but what if it's reconnaissance Foxbats? Not much we can do about those,” Gledhill pointed out. The MiG-25RB Foxbat reconnaissance bomber could fly above 60,000 feet, and even if needing two wing tanks and a centerline one, could still carry four 1100-lb bombs, and do so from a field like Gray AAF.
“I know, but at least we'll clear some of the field, and if somebody's following the Foxbats? We'll be ready for them.”
“And so we will,” Gledhill nodded. Having a rude surprise waiting for Ivan, who might be hoping he wouldn't be intercepted, was a good idea.
Guru nodded agreement. One thing about Dave, he thought, was that the RAF Squadron Leader made a good sounding board. One thing about him that he'd miss. Oh, well. “Dave, get your four birds prepped, and warn the crews, just as I told Goalie. Hit the gym now, and then have their flight gear handy the rest of the day.”
“On the way,” Gledhill said, then he headed out the office door.
After Gledhill left, Guru called Colonel Brady to inform him of what the 335th and RAF had in prep. Brady listened for a few moments, then replied, “Good thinking, Major. I'll have a few Hornet drivers prepped and ready along those lines, and get some Seabees to clear the squadron dispersals.” After the MAG-11 CO said that, Guru could hear Brady giving those orders. “Major, this might not be needed, but...”
“Better safe than sorry, sir.”
“My thoughts exactly, Major.”
Guru then went to the Men's Locker Room, got his flight hear-helmet, G-suit, survival vest, and harness, then headed for his tent, and changed into his workout gear. But he also put a bag together with his cold-weather flight gear. Then as he went to the Gym, he could hear the snow blowers already at work, clearing the dispersals. As he got to the gym entrance, he saw both Doc Waters and the RAF Flight Surgeon sitting outside, dressed for the weather, coffee cups and thermos handy, and clipboards waiting. “You guys checking off names?” Guru asked, knowing full well the answer.
“With nothing but sports injuries and flight physicals?” Doc replied. “Have to stay busy somehow.” And the RAF Flight Surgeon, a Flight Lieutenant if Guru read the insignia right, simply nodded.
“Figures.” Guru nodded, then went into the tent. Space heaters made sure it stayed warm, and the 335th CO noted with appreciation that those contacted were already taking his advice, for Kara, Brainiac, Sweaty, Preacher, and Goalie had their flight gear close by. Guru found a treadmill and proceeded to get in his four miles, and as he did, other crewers-AF, RAF, and Marine, came in, similarly prepared as he was, and among them was Colonel Brady. One thing about the MAG-11 CO, was that he found time to fly at least two missions a day, even if most of his time was spent dealing with what would be in the Air Force, a Wing Commander's responsibilities.
After time on the weight machines and lifting some weights, something he knew the Sawbones would appreciate, Guru got a quick shower, then changed into his cold-weather flight gear: long underwear, then a sweatshirt, followed by a cold-weather flight suit. He then took his other gear with him back to the office, and found several of his flight there as well. They, too, were waiting for a siren that might or might not sound. “Where's Kara and Preacher?” Guru asked.
Sweaty replied. “Getting lunch,” she said. “Boss, you sure this is a good idea?”
“I know, the weather's almost as bad for them as it is for us, but....If they get their runways clear and we don't...”
“I get it,” Sweaty nodded. “Not a good thing.”
“No,” the CO replied as Goalie came in with their lunch.
Over lunch, which was BBQ chicken with mac and cheese and cole slaw, the two discussed squadron business. One thing Goalie wanted when it came to replacement WSOs was finding people who were combat-experienced, but had done some time as an RTU instructor before returning to combat, or, failing that, had requalified after a spell in the hospital. Though people weren't being rotated in and out of the war zone like in past conflicts, some experienced aircrew were being transferred-usually against the wishes of their COs, to be RTU instructors. Guru's old GIB, Tony Carpenter, had done a tour at Kingsley Field after their Resistance time, before going to Clark AB in the Philippines and the 3rd TFW. Much to his old friend's regret.
“No guarantees, but Ross knows people in Officer Detailing,” Guru replied. “I'll let him know.”
“And anything that keeps you from the letter-writing business is something you like.”
“Yeah.”
They had just discussed the RAF's departure in the next few weeks, when Guru looked outside. The snow had stopped, and the sky was getting brighter. Not quite good enough for VFR flying or strikes, but up high was a different matter, he knew. The CO then checked the time: 1245. He was about to say something to Goalie when the siren sounded, then the PA barked. “For the Alert Force, For the Alert Force: SCRAMBLE! SCRAMBLE! SCRAMBLE!”
“Do we?” Goalie asked, then she saw him nod, then get into his G-Suit, vest and harness. All the while doing the same.
Guru and Goalie ran out the office door, helmets in hand, and saw their flight hurredly getting their flight gear on. “Boss, do we..” Kara asked, knowng full well what the answer would be.
“We're going!” Guru said firmly. “Mount your aircraft!” The CO and his GIB were the first out the door after the alert flight.
The difference between diplomacy and war is this: Diplomacy is the art of telling someone to go to hell so elegantly that they pack for the trip.
War is bringing hell down on that someone.
War is bringing hell down on that someone.
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jemhouston
- Posts: 4200
- Joined: Fri Nov 18, 2022 12:38 am
Re: Wolverine and Chiefs
It was a good thing the Russian never got Air to Air refueling down as well as we did.
Re: Wolverine and Chiefs
Yeah, at this point in time, Ivan was messing around with ideas akin to the original KB-29M Superfortress tanker…jemhouston wrote: ↑Mon Feb 27, 2023 3:14 am It was a good thing the Russian never got Air to Air refueling down as well as we did.
“For a brick, he flew pretty good!” Sgt. Major A.J. Johnson, Halo 2
To err is human; to forgive is not SAC policy.
“This is Raven 2-5. This is my sandbox. You will not drop, acknowledge.” David Flanagan, former Raven FAC
To err is human; to forgive is not SAC policy.
“This is Raven 2-5. This is my sandbox. You will not drop, acknowledge.” David Flanagan, former Raven FAC
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Matt Wiser
- Posts: 858
- Joined: Fri Nov 18, 2022 2:48 am
- Location: Auberry, CA
Re: Wolverine and Chiefs
They were using probe and drogue by the mid '70s on both Bear and Backfire with Tu-16s as tankers. The Il-78M was developed as a three-point tanker both TTL and OTL. However, OTL, an air-refuelable MiG-25 version, developed at Iraqi request, was cancelled before a prototype was ready in 1989. Here, the Soviets may have gone ahead with that project....
The difference between diplomacy and war is this: Diplomacy is the art of telling someone to go to hell so elegantly that they pack for the trip.
War is bringing hell down on that someone.
War is bringing hell down on that someone.
-
Belushi TD
- Posts: 944
- Joined: Thu Nov 17, 2022 11:20 am
Re: Wolverine and Chiefs
So the soviets didn't think it was worth it to get their fighters to have air refueling, but the bombers and patrol planes did?
I wonder if the weight limits on the fighters was so tight that they couldn't afford either the sheer weight of the system, or if the balance was so tight they couldn't afford the weight forward of the center of gravity.
Belushi TD
I wonder if the weight limits on the fighters was so tight that they couldn't afford either the sheer weight of the system, or if the balance was so tight they couldn't afford the weight forward of the center of gravity.
Belushi TD
Re: Wolverine and Chiefs
It's probably more of a doctrine thing than performance, except as to how aircraft performance reflected doctrine. American fighter doctrine was born of (1) protecting the bombers over Europe during Pointblank and (2) the Pacific campaign. Range was extremely important. Soviet doctrine was born on the Eastern Front, holding off the Luftwaffe so that the Red Army could crush the Wehrmacht.Belushi TD wrote: ↑Tue Feb 28, 2023 1:23 pm So the soviets didn't think it was worth it to get their fighters to have air refueling, but the bombers and patrol planes did?
I wonder if the weight limits on the fighters was so tight that they couldn't afford either the sheer weight of the system, or if the balance was so tight they couldn't afford the weight forward of the center of gravity.
Belushi TD
As a result, Soviet patterns frequently revealed . . . two-dimensional thinking.
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jemhouston
- Posts: 4200
- Joined: Fri Nov 18, 2022 12:38 am
Re: Wolverine and Chiefs
And the fact the Soviet Navy was an access denial force trying to sea control and power projection doomed their efforts. Granted it was a near run thing.
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Matt Wiser
- Posts: 858
- Joined: Fri Nov 18, 2022 2:48 am
- Location: Auberry, CA
Re: Wolverine and Chiefs
Scrambling out of Sheppard:
Sheppard AFB, TX: 1247 Hours Central War Time:
The aircrews tore out of the squadron office, running for their aircraft as the sirens began their howl. The CO's flight was right behind him and Goalie, but as they ran outside, a Dodge Crew-Cab pickup pulled up in front. And to the CO's surprise, a famliar face was behind the wheel. Airman Kellogg. “Major, you guys need a lift?”
“You got it!” Guru said as he opened the right passenger door and slid in next to the airman. The rest of the flight-along with Dave Golen's element, piled into either the back seats or the back of the truck. “Bust ass to 512.”
The airman didn't even reply, he just put the truck back into gear and drove to the Squadron's dispersal, pulling to a stop right in front of the CO's bird. “Here you go, Major.”
“Thanks, Kellogg. Now get your ass out of here and to a shelter!” Guru said as the crews piled out.
“Yes, sir!”
As the truck pulled away, wheels squealing, the crews from the CO's flight and Dave Golen's element gathered around. Before Guru could say something, his Crew Chief, Tech Sergeant Crowley, came over. “Major, Colonel Brady sent somebody by with this in case you had to launch.” He handed the CO a 3x5 card.
“Okay, we're Mustang Flight, and that means Dave and Flossy as well. Get our asses clear and above the clouds, I'll check in with AWACS, and we'll find us some MiGs.”
“Sounds good to me,” Kara said.
“Let's go,” Guru said, and the crews ran for their aircraft. Guru and Goalie ran to 512, climbed the crew ladder, and mounted the aircraft. Crowley had already done most of the preflight-and the CO made a note to put some kind of commendation letter for him. He and Goalie went through the scramble checklist. He yelled to Crowley. “Once we're clear? You get the hell to a shelter!”
“Will do, Major!”
“Okay, Arnie?” Guru asked Goalie. He meant the ARN-101 nav system.
“All set,” Goalie replied. “Ejection seats?”
“Armed top and bottom, check yours and stand by for engine start.” Guru said. He gave the thumbs-up to Crowley, who gave the “start engines” signal. First one, then both, J-79 engines were up and running, and as they warmed up, Guru called the Tower.
“Tower, Mustang Flight with six, requesting scramble takeoff.”
“Roger, Mustang Lead. Clear to taxi to Runway Three-Five-Lima. Hold prior to the Active, and you are number two in line.”
“Roger, Tower. We're rolling.” Guru gave the “chocks” signal, and as the chocks were pulled clear, Crowley gave the “taxi” signal.
As Guru taxied 512 out of the revetment, he saw the rest of the flight doing the same, and the XO's flight also clearing their revetments. Followed by four RAF F-4Js. When clear, Crowley snapped a salute, and both Pilot and WSO returned it. Then he followed the CO's order and after ordering the rest of the ground crew to find a shelter, he did so as well.
Gur taxied 512 out, and after clearing the revetment, saw that the rest of his flight, Dave Gledhill's, and the XO's, had cleared theirs. On the runway, the first two alert birds-the F-4s from his squadron, were thundering down Runway 35L, while two F/A-18s were doing the same along Runway 35C. But ahead of him were four Marine F-4s that had taxied clear of their dispersal area just ahead of his own, and he could see shamrocks on the tails. That meant the Shamrocks of VMFA-333. Not a surprise that a Marine squadron CO had thought the same way he did, the conversation with Colonel Brady notwithstanding. The Marines taxied into the holding area, where the armorers quickly removed the weapon safeties, then the four gray Phantoms taxied onto the runway, and a few seconds after that, roared down the runway and into the air. Then it was their turn.
Guru taxied 512 into the holding area, and his squadron's armorers removed their weapon safeties from all six birds in his flight, then Guru called the Tower. “Tower, Mustang Flight requesting taxi for scramble takeoff.”
“Mustang Flight, Tower. Clear to taxi for scramble,” the operator replied.
Guru then taxied onto the runway, and a quick glance to the right saw four F/A-18s taxiing onto 35C. More the merrier, he thought. Then he called again. “Tower, Mustang Flight requesting clear for scramble.”
As usual, the tower flashed a green light. Clear for takeoff.
“Ready?” Guru asked his GIB.
“Ready,” Goalie replied, tightening her shoulder straps. The last time they had done this, a nasty furball had developed.
“Then let's go,” the CO said. “Mustangs, Lead. Let's go.” He then applied full throttle, released the brakes, and 512, with 520 right with him, thundered down the runway and into the air. Ten seconds after that, Sweaty and Hoser went, with Dave Golen and Flossy following. Then came the RAF and his own XO.
As Guru climbed clear, he saw the cloud base had risen to 5,000 Feet, though the general visibility was still poor on climb-out even before he reached the clouds. Going full military power, he punched a hole through the clouds-or so both he and Goalie thought, before coming on top at 18,000 feet. When 512 did, it did so into a clear blue sky, with the sun shining bright. Both Guru and Goalie began scanning for visual threats as Kara's 520 formed with them in Combat Spread. The rest of the flight followed, as did the four RAF F-4Js and the XO's own flight of four. Then he called the AWACS.
“Crystal Palace, Mustang Lead with six, just cleared Sheppard. Got six Echo model Phantoms with four heat, two radar, and full gun. Any trade for us?”
“Mustang Lead, Crystal Palace,” the AWACS controller responded. “Picking up your transponders. Authenticate Victor Six November.” This could be some ALA scum-sucker playing a radio game.
Guru checked his authenticator on his kneeboard and found the correct response. “Alpha Niner Tango.”
“Roger, Mustang. Orbit and stay clear. Bandits inbound are Very High. Friendly birds engaging.” That meant Patriots and possibly I-HAWK.
Hearing that in 520, Kara was furious. “Those Patriot guys get all the fun this time.”
“Foxbats coming in,” Brainiac reminded her. “Not much we can do about those guys.”
“Doesn't change how I feel.” Kara was jealous of the CO for having both a MiG-25 and a -29 in his kill sheet. And she wanted one of each (at least) in hers.
“Shit!' Goalie said on 512's IC after hearing the AWACS. “MiG-25s inbound.”
“And the Patriot guys get all the fun,” Guru replied. “Flight, Lead. Watch for Foxbats incoming. If one ducks low to avoid a Patriot, whoever gets tally takes him.”
“Roger, Lead,” Kara replied, and the others did as well. Here's hoping, Kara thought.
Then the AWACS called. “Mustang, Tiger, Knight, Corvette, Camaro, Shamrock,” said the Controller, calling all of the flights that had scrambled out of Sheppard. “Bandits bearing One-eight-five for for twenty-five. Very high, closing fast. Weapons free.” That meant the MiGs were coming in above FL 400 and were past Mach 1. “Birds affirm.” That one meant the Patriots were taking shots.
Guru was scanning, along with everyone else. But it was Dave Golen who picked them up. “Lead, Five. Tally four, very high,” he called. Just then, a Patriot came up through the cloud deck and followed its radar to a MiG. Not far from the orbiting fighters, but well above, the Patriot and a Foxbat merged in a fireball. “Splash!”
“Got visual,” Guru called. He and Goalie watched as the Patriot speared the MiG, “Confirm splash, and no chute.” The MiG-25 was engulfed in a orange and black fireball, and pieces of the aircraft tumbled down and forward. Going that fast, the wreckage would just keep on going forward as it fell... And no sign of an ejection.
That MiG was the second in a flight of four. The crews watched as the other three released their bombs and turned right, with a turning radius about that of a 747, some thought. They watched helplessly as the bombs fell into the clouds.
Below, at Sheppard, everyone who could, or wanted to, had found a shelter. Ms. Wendt and her crew, as usual, scorned the basement shelters and found a sandbag shelter near the squadron office. But they didn't get in, for Trevor Scott, the cameraman, was filming, while Ms. Wendt was giving a quick commentary. Lieutenant Patti Brown, the 335th's PAO, was not surprised in the slightest. “They told me about you guys not running when the siren sounds,” she said.
“Did that our first time,” Ms. Wendt said. “Just like that one, I'm a little disappointed.”
“Why?” Brown asked. She was looking around for the sight and sound of bombs going off.
Ms. Wendt smiled. “We're not live.” She then resumed her commentary.
In the storm cellar in the basement of the 335th's offices, Erica Mason was with Marine Lieutenant Alex Monroe, her chaperone, along with most of the 335th's admin people and the aircrews whose aircraft were still down for maintenance. “How many times does this happen?” she asked.
Sin Licon, the intelligence officer, replied. “Oh, every so often. Most of the time, it's fighters and strike birds coming in, but once in a while, we get missiles, or the high fliers.”
“Who are those?”
“MiG-25s,” Kerry Collins said. “And our F-4s can't touch them. Too high and too fast.”
They heard the sounds of Patriots being launched, and after what seemed like an eternity, a BOOM sounded from up high, then a dozen bombs exploded on the ground. Some were close, others more distant.
“That's it?” Erica asked.
Chief Ross had a walkie-talkie tuned into the base defense frequency. He held up a hand. “More coming.” He then looked around, and saw the Squadron's mascot, Buddy, curled up and asleep. Maybe the dog knows something we don't?
“Tally four more,” RAF Flight Lieutenant Paul Jackson, Dave Gledhill's pilot, called.
“Copy that,” Guru said as he picked up the MiGs. Just like the first flight, there were four Foxbats coming. And the “Birds Affirm” call came again.
Two more Patriots came up, followed by another two. The crews watched as two Patriots connected with the Tail-end Charlie of the flight, and that MiG became a very large fireball in the air. Another Patriot tracked down the Number two in the flight, just as the three remaining Foxbats released their bombs, and that MiG emerged from the fireball tumbling out of control, while the fourth missed.
Guru and Goalie watched it all, and as the MiG almost reached the clouds, the canopy blew and ejection seat fired, and there was somebody hanging in a chute. “Well, I'll be damned,” Guru said. “Got a chute from that one.”
Goalie was working her map. “Got him marked.”
“Roger that,” Guru said, then he called the AWACS. “Crystal Palace, Mustang Lead. Friendly birds splashed two, with one chute. Can you mark our position?”
“Roger, Mustang,” replied the controller. “We'll get the word out about him.” And hopefully, the Army would find the downed Russian before the Resistance would.
“That guy had better hope the Army finds him first,” Goalie said in 512's rear seat.
“Just like the Indian tribes in Arizona and New Mexico,” Guru replied. “They had to be convinced that it was kind of hard to interrogate corpses.” It was well known that any downed Soviet or Soviet-bloc airman found by the Resistance would likely need serious medical help at the very least when the military arrived. More often than not, the Army or Marines found the object of their search hanging from the nearest telephone pole or street light.
“Yeah,” Guru said as the MiGs completed their turn and headed south. As they did, they jettisoned their two wing and one centerline tanks, and the empty fuel tanks simply fluttered down. “Crystal Palace, Mustang One-one.”
“Mustang, Crystal Palace, Go.”
“Crystal Palace, bandits have egressed south. Any word on Home Plate?”
“Roger on the bandits, Mustang,” said the Controller. “ Negative incoming. Stand by one on Home Plate.”
“Copy that,” Guru said, checking his fuel. “Can orbit for three-zero minutes.”
Then came another call in a familiar voice. “Crystal Palace, Knight Zero-one.” It was Colonel Brady. He had launched with a VMFA-314 flight of Hornets. “Confirm Home Plate status.”
“Stand by,” the controller replied.
“Knight, Mustang, Camaro, Tiger, Shamrock, Corvette, this is Crystal Palace,” the controller said, calling all the aircraft that had scrambled from Sheppard. “Be advised that Home Plate is clear, slime status is green, and you are all cleared to return.”
“Roger, Crystal Palace,” Colonel Brady was the first to call, and all the other flight leads followed suit.
The Sheppard controllers were efficient, bringing in the first two flights to launch, one 335th and one Marine-again, from VMFA-314, then the others came down one at a time. As the crews came in, the ground crews and support personnel were just coming out of the shelters. Those who did close to the flight line saw the aircraft taxiing in, and to everybody's disappointment, no fingers were held up to signal MiG kills. Guru taxied 512 clear of the runway and to the squadron's dispersal, and as he did, for the first time he saw smoke to the west, between the field proper and I-44. “Somebody got one,” he noted.
“Yeah, but who?” Goalie wondered.
“Good question.” Guru taxied into the dispersal and found 512's revetment. After taxiing in, and getting the “Stop” then the “Shut down” signals from Sergeant Crowley, he and Goalie went through the post-flight checklist. Only then did they pop their canopies.
“That was an unusual one,” he said as he stood up in the cockpit.
“Yeah,” Goalie said as she did the same. “A combat flight and we wind up doing absolutely nothing.”
Nodding, Guru climbed down and accepted a bottle of water from Crowley, promptly downing some of it. “Anyone hurt that you know of, Sarge?”
“No, sir,” Crowley said. “Chief Ross was out once the all-clear sounded. Nothing over the radio about our people.”
Guru and Goalie did a quick post-flight check, then he went back over to the Crew Chief. “Get her refueled, and pass the word to the rest of my flight's ground crews to do the same thing. I want to be ready again, just in case they think about a follow-on strike.”
Crowley nodded, “Yes,sir!” He then turned to the ground crew. “Okay people! Finish up, and let's get her refueled. Ivan might come back, so let's get the CO's bird prepped.”
As Guru and Goalie left the revetment, the rest of their flight was waiting at the entrance. “Well?” Kara asked.
“That was a strange one, I'll say,” Guru said. “Anyone want to take their chances on the ground if they come back today?”
“Hardly,” Sweaty said as she took a drink from her own bottle of water. “So we're back on this until dark?”
“You said it, I didn't,” Guru said as Dave Gledhill's RAF people came over. “Dave? Ever see a Foxbat before?”
“From this perspective, no,” the RAF Squadron Leader replied with a shake of his head. “Those would've been a real challenge if they'd turned us loose.”
Dave Golen shook his head. “We tried that in Sinai, back in '71,” he said, relating an Israeli attempt to shoot down a Reconnaissance MiG-25 over the then-Israeli Occupied Sinai with an F-4 in a zoom climb and AIM-7. “No joy back then.”
“Yeah,” Guru nodded. “Dave Gledhill?” He turned to the RAF officer. “If you haven't already, get your birds refueled. Just in case Ivan tries a follow-on strike.”
“Will do,” Gledhill said.
Just then, two Crew-Cabs pulled up, and Chief Ross got out of the lead one, with Buddy right behind him. “Major, Captain Van Loan sent me to pick you all up. Nobody hurt in the squadron, he says, and I've already checked. No damage to any aircraft or other squadron assets.”
“Good man, Chief,” Gurus said as the dog found Kara and started to nuzzle her. “Find the XO and let him know I want his birds refueled. Just in case.”
“Just in case Ivan comes back?” Ross asked. Seeing the CO nod, the Chief said, “I'll get on it, sir.”
“All right, Chief,” said the CO. “Okay, keep your flight gear handy. We might have to do this again.”
Kara took a moment from hugging the dog to ask,”For how long?”
“Good question,” Dave Golen said.
“I'll check with Colonel Brady,” the CO said. “Plan on staying on some kind of alert until 1630 at least, 1700 at most. That's when we release the alert crews anyway.”
“Four more hours of this,” Sweaty noted. It wasn't a question.
“You said it, I didn't,” Guru said. He nodded at the two trucks. “Come on and let's go. Get something to eat if you're in the mood for that, and just hope the siren doesn't sound. Again.”
Sheppard AFB, TX: 1247 Hours Central War Time:
The aircrews tore out of the squadron office, running for their aircraft as the sirens began their howl. The CO's flight was right behind him and Goalie, but as they ran outside, a Dodge Crew-Cab pickup pulled up in front. And to the CO's surprise, a famliar face was behind the wheel. Airman Kellogg. “Major, you guys need a lift?”
“You got it!” Guru said as he opened the right passenger door and slid in next to the airman. The rest of the flight-along with Dave Golen's element, piled into either the back seats or the back of the truck. “Bust ass to 512.”
The airman didn't even reply, he just put the truck back into gear and drove to the Squadron's dispersal, pulling to a stop right in front of the CO's bird. “Here you go, Major.”
“Thanks, Kellogg. Now get your ass out of here and to a shelter!” Guru said as the crews piled out.
“Yes, sir!”
As the truck pulled away, wheels squealing, the crews from the CO's flight and Dave Golen's element gathered around. Before Guru could say something, his Crew Chief, Tech Sergeant Crowley, came over. “Major, Colonel Brady sent somebody by with this in case you had to launch.” He handed the CO a 3x5 card.
“Okay, we're Mustang Flight, and that means Dave and Flossy as well. Get our asses clear and above the clouds, I'll check in with AWACS, and we'll find us some MiGs.”
“Sounds good to me,” Kara said.
“Let's go,” Guru said, and the crews ran for their aircraft. Guru and Goalie ran to 512, climbed the crew ladder, and mounted the aircraft. Crowley had already done most of the preflight-and the CO made a note to put some kind of commendation letter for him. He and Goalie went through the scramble checklist. He yelled to Crowley. “Once we're clear? You get the hell to a shelter!”
“Will do, Major!”
“Okay, Arnie?” Guru asked Goalie. He meant the ARN-101 nav system.
“All set,” Goalie replied. “Ejection seats?”
“Armed top and bottom, check yours and stand by for engine start.” Guru said. He gave the thumbs-up to Crowley, who gave the “start engines” signal. First one, then both, J-79 engines were up and running, and as they warmed up, Guru called the Tower.
“Tower, Mustang Flight with six, requesting scramble takeoff.”
“Roger, Mustang Lead. Clear to taxi to Runway Three-Five-Lima. Hold prior to the Active, and you are number two in line.”
“Roger, Tower. We're rolling.” Guru gave the “chocks” signal, and as the chocks were pulled clear, Crowley gave the “taxi” signal.
As Guru taxied 512 out of the revetment, he saw the rest of the flight doing the same, and the XO's flight also clearing their revetments. Followed by four RAF F-4Js. When clear, Crowley snapped a salute, and both Pilot and WSO returned it. Then he followed the CO's order and after ordering the rest of the ground crew to find a shelter, he did so as well.
Gur taxied 512 out, and after clearing the revetment, saw that the rest of his flight, Dave Gledhill's, and the XO's, had cleared theirs. On the runway, the first two alert birds-the F-4s from his squadron, were thundering down Runway 35L, while two F/A-18s were doing the same along Runway 35C. But ahead of him were four Marine F-4s that had taxied clear of their dispersal area just ahead of his own, and he could see shamrocks on the tails. That meant the Shamrocks of VMFA-333. Not a surprise that a Marine squadron CO had thought the same way he did, the conversation with Colonel Brady notwithstanding. The Marines taxied into the holding area, where the armorers quickly removed the weapon safeties, then the four gray Phantoms taxied onto the runway, and a few seconds after that, roared down the runway and into the air. Then it was their turn.
Guru taxied 512 into the holding area, and his squadron's armorers removed their weapon safeties from all six birds in his flight, then Guru called the Tower. “Tower, Mustang Flight requesting taxi for scramble takeoff.”
“Mustang Flight, Tower. Clear to taxi for scramble,” the operator replied.
Guru then taxied onto the runway, and a quick glance to the right saw four F/A-18s taxiing onto 35C. More the merrier, he thought. Then he called again. “Tower, Mustang Flight requesting clear for scramble.”
As usual, the tower flashed a green light. Clear for takeoff.
“Ready?” Guru asked his GIB.
“Ready,” Goalie replied, tightening her shoulder straps. The last time they had done this, a nasty furball had developed.
“Then let's go,” the CO said. “Mustangs, Lead. Let's go.” He then applied full throttle, released the brakes, and 512, with 520 right with him, thundered down the runway and into the air. Ten seconds after that, Sweaty and Hoser went, with Dave Golen and Flossy following. Then came the RAF and his own XO.
As Guru climbed clear, he saw the cloud base had risen to 5,000 Feet, though the general visibility was still poor on climb-out even before he reached the clouds. Going full military power, he punched a hole through the clouds-or so both he and Goalie thought, before coming on top at 18,000 feet. When 512 did, it did so into a clear blue sky, with the sun shining bright. Both Guru and Goalie began scanning for visual threats as Kara's 520 formed with them in Combat Spread. The rest of the flight followed, as did the four RAF F-4Js and the XO's own flight of four. Then he called the AWACS.
“Crystal Palace, Mustang Lead with six, just cleared Sheppard. Got six Echo model Phantoms with four heat, two radar, and full gun. Any trade for us?”
“Mustang Lead, Crystal Palace,” the AWACS controller responded. “Picking up your transponders. Authenticate Victor Six November.” This could be some ALA scum-sucker playing a radio game.
Guru checked his authenticator on his kneeboard and found the correct response. “Alpha Niner Tango.”
“Roger, Mustang. Orbit and stay clear. Bandits inbound are Very High. Friendly birds engaging.” That meant Patriots and possibly I-HAWK.
Hearing that in 520, Kara was furious. “Those Patriot guys get all the fun this time.”
“Foxbats coming in,” Brainiac reminded her. “Not much we can do about those guys.”
“Doesn't change how I feel.” Kara was jealous of the CO for having both a MiG-25 and a -29 in his kill sheet. And she wanted one of each (at least) in hers.
“Shit!' Goalie said on 512's IC after hearing the AWACS. “MiG-25s inbound.”
“And the Patriot guys get all the fun,” Guru replied. “Flight, Lead. Watch for Foxbats incoming. If one ducks low to avoid a Patriot, whoever gets tally takes him.”
“Roger, Lead,” Kara replied, and the others did as well. Here's hoping, Kara thought.
Then the AWACS called. “Mustang, Tiger, Knight, Corvette, Camaro, Shamrock,” said the Controller, calling all of the flights that had scrambled out of Sheppard. “Bandits bearing One-eight-five for for twenty-five. Very high, closing fast. Weapons free.” That meant the MiGs were coming in above FL 400 and were past Mach 1. “Birds affirm.” That one meant the Patriots were taking shots.
Guru was scanning, along with everyone else. But it was Dave Golen who picked them up. “Lead, Five. Tally four, very high,” he called. Just then, a Patriot came up through the cloud deck and followed its radar to a MiG. Not far from the orbiting fighters, but well above, the Patriot and a Foxbat merged in a fireball. “Splash!”
“Got visual,” Guru called. He and Goalie watched as the Patriot speared the MiG, “Confirm splash, and no chute.” The MiG-25 was engulfed in a orange and black fireball, and pieces of the aircraft tumbled down and forward. Going that fast, the wreckage would just keep on going forward as it fell... And no sign of an ejection.
That MiG was the second in a flight of four. The crews watched as the other three released their bombs and turned right, with a turning radius about that of a 747, some thought. They watched helplessly as the bombs fell into the clouds.
Below, at Sheppard, everyone who could, or wanted to, had found a shelter. Ms. Wendt and her crew, as usual, scorned the basement shelters and found a sandbag shelter near the squadron office. But they didn't get in, for Trevor Scott, the cameraman, was filming, while Ms. Wendt was giving a quick commentary. Lieutenant Patti Brown, the 335th's PAO, was not surprised in the slightest. “They told me about you guys not running when the siren sounds,” she said.
“Did that our first time,” Ms. Wendt said. “Just like that one, I'm a little disappointed.”
“Why?” Brown asked. She was looking around for the sight and sound of bombs going off.
Ms. Wendt smiled. “We're not live.” She then resumed her commentary.
In the storm cellar in the basement of the 335th's offices, Erica Mason was with Marine Lieutenant Alex Monroe, her chaperone, along with most of the 335th's admin people and the aircrews whose aircraft were still down for maintenance. “How many times does this happen?” she asked.
Sin Licon, the intelligence officer, replied. “Oh, every so often. Most of the time, it's fighters and strike birds coming in, but once in a while, we get missiles, or the high fliers.”
“Who are those?”
“MiG-25s,” Kerry Collins said. “And our F-4s can't touch them. Too high and too fast.”
They heard the sounds of Patriots being launched, and after what seemed like an eternity, a BOOM sounded from up high, then a dozen bombs exploded on the ground. Some were close, others more distant.
“That's it?” Erica asked.
Chief Ross had a walkie-talkie tuned into the base defense frequency. He held up a hand. “More coming.” He then looked around, and saw the Squadron's mascot, Buddy, curled up and asleep. Maybe the dog knows something we don't?
“Tally four more,” RAF Flight Lieutenant Paul Jackson, Dave Gledhill's pilot, called.
“Copy that,” Guru said as he picked up the MiGs. Just like the first flight, there were four Foxbats coming. And the “Birds Affirm” call came again.
Two more Patriots came up, followed by another two. The crews watched as two Patriots connected with the Tail-end Charlie of the flight, and that MiG became a very large fireball in the air. Another Patriot tracked down the Number two in the flight, just as the three remaining Foxbats released their bombs, and that MiG emerged from the fireball tumbling out of control, while the fourth missed.
Guru and Goalie watched it all, and as the MiG almost reached the clouds, the canopy blew and ejection seat fired, and there was somebody hanging in a chute. “Well, I'll be damned,” Guru said. “Got a chute from that one.”
Goalie was working her map. “Got him marked.”
“Roger that,” Guru said, then he called the AWACS. “Crystal Palace, Mustang Lead. Friendly birds splashed two, with one chute. Can you mark our position?”
“Roger, Mustang,” replied the controller. “We'll get the word out about him.” And hopefully, the Army would find the downed Russian before the Resistance would.
“That guy had better hope the Army finds him first,” Goalie said in 512's rear seat.
“Just like the Indian tribes in Arizona and New Mexico,” Guru replied. “They had to be convinced that it was kind of hard to interrogate corpses.” It was well known that any downed Soviet or Soviet-bloc airman found by the Resistance would likely need serious medical help at the very least when the military arrived. More often than not, the Army or Marines found the object of their search hanging from the nearest telephone pole or street light.
“Yeah,” Guru said as the MiGs completed their turn and headed south. As they did, they jettisoned their two wing and one centerline tanks, and the empty fuel tanks simply fluttered down. “Crystal Palace, Mustang One-one.”
“Mustang, Crystal Palace, Go.”
“Crystal Palace, bandits have egressed south. Any word on Home Plate?”
“Roger on the bandits, Mustang,” said the Controller. “ Negative incoming. Stand by one on Home Plate.”
“Copy that,” Guru said, checking his fuel. “Can orbit for three-zero minutes.”
Then came another call in a familiar voice. “Crystal Palace, Knight Zero-one.” It was Colonel Brady. He had launched with a VMFA-314 flight of Hornets. “Confirm Home Plate status.”
“Stand by,” the controller replied.
“Knight, Mustang, Camaro, Tiger, Shamrock, Corvette, this is Crystal Palace,” the controller said, calling all the aircraft that had scrambled from Sheppard. “Be advised that Home Plate is clear, slime status is green, and you are all cleared to return.”
“Roger, Crystal Palace,” Colonel Brady was the first to call, and all the other flight leads followed suit.
The Sheppard controllers were efficient, bringing in the first two flights to launch, one 335th and one Marine-again, from VMFA-314, then the others came down one at a time. As the crews came in, the ground crews and support personnel were just coming out of the shelters. Those who did close to the flight line saw the aircraft taxiing in, and to everybody's disappointment, no fingers were held up to signal MiG kills. Guru taxied 512 clear of the runway and to the squadron's dispersal, and as he did, for the first time he saw smoke to the west, between the field proper and I-44. “Somebody got one,” he noted.
“Yeah, but who?” Goalie wondered.
“Good question.” Guru taxied into the dispersal and found 512's revetment. After taxiing in, and getting the “Stop” then the “Shut down” signals from Sergeant Crowley, he and Goalie went through the post-flight checklist. Only then did they pop their canopies.
“That was an unusual one,” he said as he stood up in the cockpit.
“Yeah,” Goalie said as she did the same. “A combat flight and we wind up doing absolutely nothing.”
Nodding, Guru climbed down and accepted a bottle of water from Crowley, promptly downing some of it. “Anyone hurt that you know of, Sarge?”
“No, sir,” Crowley said. “Chief Ross was out once the all-clear sounded. Nothing over the radio about our people.”
Guru and Goalie did a quick post-flight check, then he went back over to the Crew Chief. “Get her refueled, and pass the word to the rest of my flight's ground crews to do the same thing. I want to be ready again, just in case they think about a follow-on strike.”
Crowley nodded, “Yes,sir!” He then turned to the ground crew. “Okay people! Finish up, and let's get her refueled. Ivan might come back, so let's get the CO's bird prepped.”
As Guru and Goalie left the revetment, the rest of their flight was waiting at the entrance. “Well?” Kara asked.
“That was a strange one, I'll say,” Guru said. “Anyone want to take their chances on the ground if they come back today?”
“Hardly,” Sweaty said as she took a drink from her own bottle of water. “So we're back on this until dark?”
“You said it, I didn't,” Guru said as Dave Gledhill's RAF people came over. “Dave? Ever see a Foxbat before?”
“From this perspective, no,” the RAF Squadron Leader replied with a shake of his head. “Those would've been a real challenge if they'd turned us loose.”
Dave Golen shook his head. “We tried that in Sinai, back in '71,” he said, relating an Israeli attempt to shoot down a Reconnaissance MiG-25 over the then-Israeli Occupied Sinai with an F-4 in a zoom climb and AIM-7. “No joy back then.”
“Yeah,” Guru nodded. “Dave Gledhill?” He turned to the RAF officer. “If you haven't already, get your birds refueled. Just in case Ivan tries a follow-on strike.”
“Will do,” Gledhill said.
Just then, two Crew-Cabs pulled up, and Chief Ross got out of the lead one, with Buddy right behind him. “Major, Captain Van Loan sent me to pick you all up. Nobody hurt in the squadron, he says, and I've already checked. No damage to any aircraft or other squadron assets.”
“Good man, Chief,” Gurus said as the dog found Kara and started to nuzzle her. “Find the XO and let him know I want his birds refueled. Just in case.”
“Just in case Ivan comes back?” Ross asked. Seeing the CO nod, the Chief said, “I'll get on it, sir.”
“All right, Chief,” said the CO. “Okay, keep your flight gear handy. We might have to do this again.”
Kara took a moment from hugging the dog to ask,”For how long?”
“Good question,” Dave Golen said.
“I'll check with Colonel Brady,” the CO said. “Plan on staying on some kind of alert until 1630 at least, 1700 at most. That's when we release the alert crews anyway.”
“Four more hours of this,” Sweaty noted. It wasn't a question.
“You said it, I didn't,” Guru said. He nodded at the two trucks. “Come on and let's go. Get something to eat if you're in the mood for that, and just hope the siren doesn't sound. Again.”
The difference between diplomacy and war is this: Diplomacy is the art of telling someone to go to hell so elegantly that they pack for the trip.
War is bringing hell down on that someone.
War is bringing hell down on that someone.
Re: Wolverine and Chiefs
Hurry up and wait. All of military life in one sortie.
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jemhouston
- Posts: 4200
- Joined: Fri Nov 18, 2022 12:38 am
Re: Wolverine and Chiefs
Did Ivan ever do night strikes?
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Belushi TD
- Posts: 944
- Joined: Thu Nov 17, 2022 11:20 am
Re: Wolverine and Chiefs
I gotta ask... Why did the russians just waste three of their recon assets to do virtually nothing except scatter bombs across the countryside?
Were they running a distraction op for something else?
Belushi TD
Were they running a distraction op for something else?
Belushi TD
Re: Wolverine and Chiefs
Remember, they just lost a senior air commander because he got sucker punched and he went out fighting instead of getting arrested and shot.Belushi TD wrote: ↑Mon Mar 20, 2023 11:51 am I gotta ask... Why did the russians just waste three of their recon assets to do virtually nothing except scatter bombs across the countryside?
Were they running a distraction op for something else?
Belushi TD
Re: Wolverine and Chiefs
Right, the ‘suicide by cop’…Poohbah wrote: ↑Mon Mar 20, 2023 12:47 pmRemember, they just lost a senior air commander because he got sucker punched and he went out fighting instead of getting arrested and shot.Belushi TD wrote: ↑Mon Mar 20, 2023 11:51 am I gotta ask... Why did the russians just waste three of their recon assets to do virtually nothing except scatter bombs across the countryside?
Were they running a distraction op for something else?
Belushi TD
“For a brick, he flew pretty good!” Sgt. Major A.J. Johnson, Halo 2
To err is human; to forgive is not SAC policy.
“This is Raven 2-5. This is my sandbox. You will not drop, acknowledge.” David Flanagan, former Raven FAC
To err is human; to forgive is not SAC policy.
“This is Raven 2-5. This is my sandbox. You will not drop, acknowledge.” David Flanagan, former Raven FAC
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Belushi TD
- Posts: 944
- Joined: Thu Nov 17, 2022 11:20 am
Re: Wolverine and Chiefs
I know, but you'd think that the pilots would have flown somewhere... less defended, shall we say? They can still drop the damn bombs and burn the kerosene and make it look like they went to die for the state, even if they didn't.Poohbah wrote: ↑Mon Mar 20, 2023 12:47 pmRemember, they just lost a senior air commander because he got sucker punched and he went out fighting instead of getting arrested and shot.Belushi TD wrote: ↑Mon Mar 20, 2023 11:51 am I gotta ask... Why did the russians just waste three of their recon assets to do virtually nothing except scatter bombs across the countryside?
Were they running a distraction op for something else?
Belushi TD
Belushi TD
Re: Wolverine and Chiefs
They may not have had a choice in the matter…
“For a brick, he flew pretty good!” Sgt. Major A.J. Johnson, Halo 2
To err is human; to forgive is not SAC policy.
“This is Raven 2-5. This is my sandbox. You will not drop, acknowledge.” David Flanagan, former Raven FAC
To err is human; to forgive is not SAC policy.
“This is Raven 2-5. This is my sandbox. You will not drop, acknowledge.” David Flanagan, former Raven FAC
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Matt Wiser
- Posts: 858
- Joined: Fri Nov 18, 2022 2:48 am
- Location: Auberry, CA
Re: Wolverine and Chiefs
They did. Not as often as we did, but they flew their share of night strikes with Su-24 and MiG-25RB.
The difference between diplomacy and war is this: Diplomacy is the art of telling someone to go to hell so elegantly that they pack for the trip.
War is bringing hell down on that someone.
War is bringing hell down on that someone.
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Matt Wiser
- Posts: 858
- Joined: Fri Nov 18, 2022 2:48 am
- Location: Auberry, CA
Re: Wolverine and Chiefs
Working on the next segment right now: RL and the insidious ailment known as Writer's Block have been in the way.
The difference between diplomacy and war is this: Diplomacy is the art of telling someone to go to hell so elegantly that they pack for the trip.
War is bringing hell down on that someone.
War is bringing hell down on that someone.
Re: Wolverine and Chiefs
That’s never fun…Matt Wiser wrote: ↑Sun Apr 09, 2023 2:46 am Working on the next segment right now: RL and the insidious ailment known as Writer's Block have been in the way.
“For a brick, he flew pretty good!” Sgt. Major A.J. Johnson, Halo 2
To err is human; to forgive is not SAC policy.
“This is Raven 2-5. This is my sandbox. You will not drop, acknowledge.” David Flanagan, former Raven FAC
To err is human; to forgive is not SAC policy.
“This is Raven 2-5. This is my sandbox. You will not drop, acknowledge.” David Flanagan, former Raven FAC