[Matt Wiser]

A new mission, and Ivan throws something new at the 335th: can anyone recognize it?



Over Central Texas, 1235 Hours Central War Time:


Corvette Flight had topped off from the tankers, and as they orbited, both at the tanker track and in the holding pattern after checking in with AWACS, the crews noticed the area was busy. Air Force, Marines, and Navy aircraft were stacked up, waiting their turn. Whatever this was, it was a major effort, and and everyone could see it.

They were now at 11,000 feet, with traffic stacked up in thousand-foot intervals all the way up to 25,000 feet, and when the flight had checked in with AWACS, they had been handed off to Tampa, the EC-130E Airborne Command Post, with the command, “Get in line at 25,000 and wait your turn.” So they had waited, descending in altitude as strike flights ahead of them were passed on to FACS or ETACs (Enlisted Tactical Air Controllers), to go in. “All this proves one thing,” Guru said to Goalie over the IC.

“What's that?” She replied.

“Simple: the Air Force is like everyone else in the military. Hurry up and wait.”

Goalie laughed. “And we're the ones who expect a five-star hotel when we go to war.”

“And we got one,” Guru reminded her, recalling the squadron's stay at the Mesa Sheraton while based at Williams. “For a while, anyway.”

“Guru, Starbuck,” Kara called. “Anything from Tampa? Those clowns know we can't orbit forever.”

“Nothing yet,” Guru said. “When they call us, we'll know it.”

“Guru, Sweaty,” another call came. “Just checked the strike frequency. Some of it's pretty hairy.”

“Define 'hairy'.” Hoser asked.

“A four-ship of A-10s went in. Two of 'em came out,” Sweaty came back. “That fit the definition?”

“I'd say it does,” Guru said.

Then one of the controllers on the EC-130 came on the line. “Corvette Lead, Tampa. We have tasking for you. Contact Nail Five-six.”

“Roger, Tampa. Contact Nail Five-six.” Guru replied. He got on the frequency to talk to the FAC. “Nail Five-six, Corvette Lead.”

“Corvette, Nail,” the FAC said. “Got some tasking for you. Say type of aircraft and ordnance.”

“Nail, Corvette Flight is six Foxtrot-Four Echoes. We have four birds with one-two Rockeyes each bird, two with one-two Mark-82 Snakeyes. All have full air-to-air and gun.”

“Roger, Corvette. Be advised the bad guys are Ivan, and that divisional level air defense is the threat. We have Zulu-Sierra-Uniform Three-Zero in the area, along with Gadflies.” That meant the new ZSU-30-2 SPAAG and the SA-11 Gadfly SAM. The 335th had never encountered the former, and the latter was considered to be very bad news.

Beneath his oxygen mask, Guru gulped. The gun they had been briefed on, but had never encountered. The SA-11 was familiar, and nasty. This was the first time they had run into both at once. “Uh, Roger that, Nail. Are there Weasels in the area?”

“Good question,” Goalie muttered over the IC.

The FAC came back. “That's affirmative, Corvette, and we have a Spark Vark and a Prowler doing standoff jamming.”

“Copy,” replied Guru. “Can you have friendlies take out any ground based air defense?”

“Can do, Corvette,” the FAC said. “Stand by one.” Down below, fireballs erupted as Army gunners found their targets. “That's your target area, Corvette.”

Guru took a deep breath. “Roger that, Nail. Flight, Lead. Switches on, music on, and let's go in.”

In the back seat, Goalie worked the armament switches. “Good to go here. Switches set.”

“Good girl. Ready?” He asked as he turned on his ECM pod

“All set.”

“Let's go,” Guru said as he rolled in on his attack run.


Down below, the commander of the 188th Guards Motor-Rifle Regiment, 144th Guards Motor-Rifle Division, was anxious, but confident. The division had arrived in Texas back in September, and after disembarking from the ships in Corpus Christi, had spent a month shaking down and training. They had been deployed around a town called Cuero, and though there had been no serious activity from the Counterrevolutionary bandits who called themselves the Resistance, the attitude of the local population had been such that had the terrain been favorable, there would have been. Even so, anti-Soviet grafitti, cut phone lines, slashed tires, and the surly attitude of the locals were enough to show the soldiers-most of whom were reservists from Estonia, that they were not welcome.

Now, the division had moved forward to the front, but a last-minute change in plans had come about. Instead of going to the Dallas area, the division had been alerted while transiting north that a situation had developed in the East German sector, and their baptism of fire would come sooner than expected.

When the division had arrived, the divisional commander had gone to the East German headquarters, then returned to brief the regimental commanders. The East Germans were pushing a spoiling attack north, and had been mauled a couple of times, but Front Headquarters had insisted on the attack, to prevent the Americans' III Corps from pushing south and cutting Interstate 35, one of the two major supply routes to the Dallas area. The objective was a town called Lipan, and though it showed on aerial reconnaissance photos as more a collection of ruins than a town, it controlled several local roads, and was thus important from that perspective.

Now, the regiment was moving on the division's right flank, moving past what the map said was Star Hollow Lake, and headed to the northwest. The briefing said that the Americans had the First Cavalry Division to the north and northwest, with the 11th Airborne Division to the northeast, with an Armored Cavalry Regiment, which one was unclear, nearby as well, exact location unknown. No matter, his regiment, and the rest of the division, would push north and take the objective, teaching these Americans a lesson, and showing these East German reservists how things ought to be done in the process. A pity none of those useless Libyans were around, for they could absorb enemy defensive fire, thus sparing the lives of some of his own men, and then his regiment would run them over.

The Colonel was in his command vehicle, a modified BTR-70, and he stuck his head out a hatch for a better look. Suddenly, tank fire came from the north, and two of his 2S6 antiaircraft vehicles exploded, along with a Strela-10 SAM (SA-13 Gopher) vehicle, then another. He glanced around, searching for the enemy, then he took a look to the south. Smoke trails in the air, and getting close. He knew what that meant, and shouted into his throat mike “AIR ATTACK WARNING-SOUTH!”

“Lead's in hot!” Guru called as he went down on the Russians down below. Fireballs erupting as vehicles were hit and died showed the Army was taking care of the air-defense threat, or so he hoped. What looked like a full regiment was on the move, moving in battalion columns, and taking fire from their right flank. Just as long as there wasn't friendly artillery shooting, as it was bad news if a 155 shell and his F-4 shared the same airspace at the same time......and apart from tracers from heavy machine guns, there was no serious fire coming. Yet. No matter. Guru picked out a battalion as was deploying into formation and decided it was their turn. He lined up some APCs in his pipper and muttered, “Steady....steady......and HACK!” The CO hit his pickle button, and a dozen Rockeye CBUs came off the racks. He pulled wings level and went to full military power, calling out on the radio, “Lead's off target.”

The Colonel watched as Guru's F-4 came overhead. He was relieved to see that his regimental command group was not a target, but watched as the Phantom released its load, and it happened to be CBUs. Second Battalion was hit, and several APCs and tanks were hit by the bomblets and either began to burn or just plain exploded. He watched as a 2S6 fired on the F-4, but there was no fireball in the air, and the Colonel shouted into the throat mike, “DISPERSE!”

In 512, Goalie shouted, “SHACK! We got secondaries!”

“How many?” Guru asked as he jinked to avoid ground fire, and those 30-mm tracers looked like basketballs as they went by above the canopy.

“Got a few.”

“Copy that,” replied Guru as he turned north and headed for the I-20.


“Two's in!” Kara called as she followed the CO in. She saw the fireballs erupt as Guru made his run, and she picked out what looked like tanks, just behind the APCs. That would be the regimental tank battalion, she knew. Kara lined up what looked like the battalion's command vehicles in her pipper, and ignored the tracers coming her way. Even what looked like an SA-7 or -14 didn't faze her, as it flew harmlessly by. “Steady.....and....and....NOW!” Kara hit the pickle button, releasing her Rockeyes. She copied the CO, pulling wings level, jinking, and increasing her throttle. “Two's off safe,” she called.


“DAMN!” The Colonel shouted as 520 flew over, and released its bombs on the Regimental tank battalion. He watched as several APCs and support vehicles took hits and either burned or, in the case of fuel trucks, fireballed, then a T-72B tank fireballed as well. That meant the battalion commander was now dead. The Colonel tried to contact the battalion's chief of staff, but there was no reply. He turned around and radioed his own deputy to rally the battalion, and, if need be, take over the tank battalion. Before he got an acknowledgment, the Colonel saw another F-4 coming in.


“SHACK!” Brainiac called from the back seat.

“Secondaries?” Kara asked as she, too, avoided 30-mm fire. “Somebody needs to take that guy out.”

“Got a few, and I'm not arguing the last.”

Kara nodded in her cockpit as she picked up the CO's bird and followed him north.


Sweaty rolled in on her run. “Three's hot!” she called as she came down onto the target area. She noticed the battalion on the right flank, and decided they needed some attention. Ignoring tracer fire from machine guns, as well as MANPADS, Sweaty lined up several APCs in her pipper. Your turn, Ivan...she thought as she called, “HACK!” A dozen more Rockeyes came off racks when she hit the pickle button. She,, too, pulled wings level and added power as she headed to the north, jinking as she did so. “Three off target.”

“Of all the...” the Colonel said as Sweaty's F-4 flew by to his right. He watched as the bombs came off and the despised CBUs exploded on his Third Battalion. Several more APCs and tanks fireballed as a result, and the Colonel was now in a rage. He was on the radio, demanding to know where the air defenders were, as two Strela-3 shoulder-fired missiles (SA-14s) were fired at the departing aircraft. One of the regiment's surviving Strela-10 vehicles fired on the F-4, but, suddenly, it was engulfed in a fireball as it took fire from the regiment's right. Where.....

“GOOD HITS!” Preacher yelled.

“How good?” Sweaty wanted to know. She was jinking to avoid some 30-mm tracers coming up. Those things were glowing basketballs as they went by....

“Righteous!” The ex-seminary student turned GIB replied.

Sweaty grinned beneath her oxygen mask. “Good enough!” She, too, headed north for the I-20.


“Four in hot!” Hoser called as he went in. He picked up some unattacked vehicles on the left flank of the regiment and selected those as his target. Hoser ignored the flak coming his way, some of it from the regiment down below, while some came from a unit on the left. No matter, he thought, as a group of APCs and a few tanks grew larger and larger....”Steady, steady....and.....NOW!” He hit the pickle button, releasing his Rockeyes. Then he pulled wings level and accelerated away, dodging flak and even a couple of missiles, SA-19s, as it turned out later. “Four's off target.”

“NYET!” Shouted the Colonel as Hoser's F-4 flew past to his left. He watched helplessly as CBUs rained down on First Battalion, his best, and watched through binoculars as several BTR-70 APCs took hits from the bomblets and either caught fire or simply became fireballs. Groaning, the Colonel contacted the Major commanding First Battalion, and ordered him to continue forward. He did the same with the other two battalions. That was the only way out of this. Forward.

“We got secondaries!” KT shouted from the back seat of Hoser's bird.

“Good ones?” Hoser asked as a missile flew over the canopy, and some 30-mm tracers followed in its wake. He dodged the flak, and headed north as he did so.

KT glanced back. “Good ones!”

“I'll take that,” said Hoser as he picked up his element leader.


“Five in hot!” Dave Golen said as he rolled in. As he did, he noticed a cluster of vehicles behind the regimental-sized force, and that had to be regimental artillery. He came down on them, and sure enough, what looked like trucks and towed artillery pieces were in their field positions, ready to fire. Dave, too, ignored the flak that came up, both 30-mm from the 2S6s, but also 23-mm from the artillery battalion's position No matter. Ivan....”Ready, ready....and.....NOW!” He hit his pickle button, and released his CBUs. Dave pulled level and went full throttle as he headed out, not noticing the 23-mm and 30-mm flak flying past his aircraft, though his GIB did, and involuntarily ducked in the back seat. “Five off safe,” Dave called.

“DAMN!” The Colonel shouted as Dave's F-4 flew overhead. He looked back, and saw numerous explosions where his Regimental Artillery battalion had deployed. His guns were all towed D-30 122-mm pieces, and where one battery had been, there was just explosions as the guns and their ammunition trucks blew up. Not now.....

“SHACK!” Golen's GIB shouted. “We hit the ammo trucks!”

“You sure about that?” Golen asked as he saw a missile fly across their path.

The reply came back at once. “Really sure! Those secondaries were really big.”

“Righteous, as our friend Preacher would say.” Golen jinked again to avoid flak, then turned north for I-20.


“Six is in!” Flossy called She rolled in, and picked out some vehicles in the center of the Regiment. The command group, maybe? Well, Ivan, you're having a bad day, and it's going to be worse. Ignoring the flak, and a few IR missiles that weren't guiding, Flossy selected her target, and the APCs grew bigger as she lined them up. “Steady, Steady....and...HACK!” More Rockeye CBUs rained down on the Soviets. After she released her bombs, Flossy pulled out and away, following her element lead north. “Six off target.”

The Colonel had pulled up in his command BTR-60 and was talking over the radio with his remaining commanders. Though the tank battalion commander had been killed, along with the command element, the senior company commander had been swiftly apppointed to take over, while the other motor-rifle battalion commanders were still going. The Colonel ordered the regiment to keep moving forward, and as he was giving orders and checking his map, he never heard Flossy's F-4 come in. He only saw the plane as it flew overhead, and CBUs rained down. Several of the regimental command group's vehicles took hits and either caught fire or exploded, but he never saw the bomblets that hit his own vehicle. No one in the BTR-60 was able to scream as the APC became a fireball......

“GOOD HITS!” Jang called from 1569's back seat.

“How good?” Asked Flossy as she avoided some 30-mm fire. Those tracers were like basketballs....and she dreaded the thought of bailing out in the middle of some angry Russians. But she avoided the flak, and headed north, jinking as she did so.

“Good enough!”

“I'll take that,” Flossy replied as a missile, what kind she didn't know, flew over the canopy. She picked up Dave Golen's bird and followed him out. Just as she had a visual on Dave's bird, she heard a yell on the IC.

“BREAK RIGHT, NOW!” Jang yelled.

Without thinking, Flossy broke right and as she pulled hard to the right, two missile trails flew by 1569. She did a full 360, and as she got back on course, Flossy had a look around. “Where'd they come from?”

“Don't know,”

“Lead, Six, we're coming out, but somebody took a shot at us.”

“Roger that,” Guru replied. 'Nail, Corvette Lead. How'd we do?”

“Corvette, Nail. I give you a four-decimal-zero. Good bombs on target-” then there was a burst of static.

“Lead, Sweaty. Got a fireball in the air. Ten O'clock high, maybe two miles.” Sweaty called.

Guru took a look, as did Goalie. They saw what looked like an A-7 tumbling out of the sky in flames, and there were no chutes. “Got it. Crystal Palace, Corvette Lead. Nail Five-six is down. No chutes I can see.”

“Copy that, Corvette Lead,” the AWACS controller replied. “ Can you verify negative chutes?”

Goalie kept looking as the A-7 slammed into the ground and a large fireball came up. “Don't see any.”

“Crystal Palace, Corvette Lead. Confirmed. Negative chutes.”

“Roger, Corvette Lead.”

There was silence as Corvette Flight egressed to the I-20. Between Flossy and Jang's close call and seeing the FAC go down, these Russians were not only on the ball, but had something that the 335th had never faced before. Only when they hit the tankers for the post-strike refueling did the adrenalin stop flowing. After clearing the tankers and heading for Sheppard did the usual post-strike banter kick in, but it was still subdued.

Corvette Flight then got back to Sheppard, and found they were second in the pattern after a four-ship of Marine Hornets. When it was their turn, they came in and landed, and as they taxied back to their squadron's dispersal area, the crews noticed the F-20 guys watching them, while the TV crew filmed the planes as they taxied in. “Want to bet those guys were wishing they went down south?” Guru asked his GIB.

“No bet, and that's one Kara won't take,” Goalie replied. “Aren't they supposed to stay away from combat unless they have no choice?”

“That's my impression,” Guru said. “But given the chance, they'll bend that restriction if they think they can get away with it.”

“Including General Yeager?”

“Maybe.” Guru then taxied 512 into its revetment, and got the “Shut down” signal from his Crew Chief. While the ground crew went to work, and the crew popped their canopies, pilot and GIB did a post-flight check, then the ground crew brought the crew ladder. “Four and done for today.”

“How many more? Seven's the record during PRAIRIE FIRE, and we set that three days in a row.”

“Don't remind me,” the CO said as he stood up in the cockpit. Then he and Goalie got down from the aircraft. “Right now, what was shooting at us?”

“That's what I'd like to know,” Goalie said as she took a bottle of water offered her by a ground crew member, and promptly began downing half of it.

Sergeant Crowley, the Crew Chief, came up. “How'd it go, Major?” he asked, giving the CO a bottle of water as he did so.

“Gave some Russians a Rockeye welcome to Texas,” Guru said. He and Goalie did a post-flight walk-around. “No damage, Sergeant, and Five-Twelve's still truckin'. Get her turned around, because we'll be back at it before too long.”

“You got it, Major!” Crowley said. He turned to the ground crew. '”You heard the Major. Let's get this bird ready for another one.”

Guru and Goalie went to the entrance to the revetment, and found Kara and Brainiac waiting. “How'd it go, Kara?”

“Who were those guys, and what were they shooting?” Kara asked. “Those tracers were big.”

“ZSU-30-2 is what the FAC said,” Guru replied as Sweaty, Hoser, and their GIBs arrived. “Don't think we've run into those before.”

“What are those?” KT asked.

“I'd like to know myself,” Dave Golen said as he and Flossy, with their GIBs, came up. “Those were some very large tracers.”

“Come on, let's debrief, get something to eat, and get ready to go,” Guru said. “Still got a ways to go.”

When they got to the squadron office, Capt. Darren “Sin” Licon, their intelligence officer, was waiting. “Major, glad to see you. Intel just sent word Ivan's using the ZSU-30-2 down there.”

“Just now?” Guru asked. “What are those things? We've never run into any before.”

“All they tell me is it's on a tank chassis, turret with two 30-mm guns, eight SA-19 SAMs, and a good radar. Captured a few at Wichita, and they're still being evaluated at either Aberdeen or China Lake.”

“Find out what you can from MAG-11's intel people,” Guru told the Intel. “Especially on the radar and the missiles. If we're going to be facing those in the future....”

“Hope not every day,” Flossy said.

“You never know,” Dave Golen reminded everyone.

“Major Golen's right, sir,” the Intel said.

Guru nodded. “Okay, let's talk inside. Get debriefed, something inside you, and get ready to go back out.” He turned to the Intel. “When we're done...”

“I'll be talking to MAG-11's Intel folks,” Licon said.

“Good man,” said Guru. “Let's get inside and take care of business.”