[Matt Wiser]

Getting ready for the last one of the day:




335th TFS, 1500 Hours Central War Time:


Major Wiser had just gotten back into his office, having debriefed the previous mission, and then went to deal with some paperwork before getting in a four-mile run on the fitness tent's treadmills. He checked the papers and found not much there, to his delight. The CO attacked the papers, and it wasn't long until his OUT box was full and the IN box quite empty. With the “armchair warriors” now satisfied, he decided to go and get in his workout, but before he could do so, there was a knock on the office door. “Yeah? Come in and show yourself!”

The Exec came in. “Boss,” Capt. Mark Ellis said. “Got a few things for you.”

“Anything I need to sign?” Guru asked.

“No, not yet. This is all for your information, not action.”

“Okay, Mark,” Guru said. “Lay it on me.”

“First of all, the eastbound C-141 came in. The, uh, stabilizers that Ross and the scroungers found are on it,” the Exec reported.

“Tell Kev O'Donnell to keep 'em around,” Guru decided. “We've had two birds with that kind of battle damage in a month, so...”

Ellis nodded. He understood what his CO meant. “They will be handy.”

“That they will,” said Guru. “What else?”

“The RAF will be here in four days,” the Exec said. “They have to go to either Dow AFB in Bangor, or Otis in Massachussetts first of all.”

“What the hell for?”

“Among other things, clearing customs,” said Ellis. “I know, even with the war and all. Personally, I think that's all a bunch of bullshit.”

“Customs?” The CO asked. “This on the level?”

“It is, Boss,” the XO replied. “I know, it sounds crazy, but...”

“Reminds me of something I read in Newsweek, after my E&E. Catching up on news I missed,” said Guru. “Anyway, when they brought the Black Horse Cav from England, a couple of weeks into the war, their convoy pulled into Boston Harbor. Some Customs officer wanted to know what they had to declare, and if they had any fruit, vegetables, or house plants. Wanted customs forms from every soldier in the Regiment. The Colonel in command literally threw the guy into the harbor, and told the other officers, 'None of your damn business! So let's get these ships unloaded!' Peacetime mentality, two weeks into the war.” Guru shook his head at that.

“Kind of like Frank,” Ellis observed.

“Kind of,” the CO replied. “Anything else?”

Ellis grinned. “Our PAO should be here about the same time. Her R&R's almost up, and she'll probably be hitchhiking on a MAC Space-available to get here.”

“Good. Kodak Griffith's been good, but he's a Marine, and sooner or later, we have to give him back,” the CO reminded Ellis. “Because he wants back in the cockpit.”

“Yeah. I'd be chomping at the bit to get back flying myself,” said Ellis.

“Hope you're never in that position,” Guru said. “You may think you're ready, but if the Docs think you're not....” His voice trailed off.

“You're flying a desk until they say you're ready,” Ellis nodded.

“Yep. Anything else before I get my workout in?”

Ellis nodded again. “C-141 also brought in some newspapers: Los Angeles Times, USA Today, Stars and Stripes. That'll be good to read.”

“It will,” Guru said. “That's it?”

“It is for now.”

Guru got up from behind his desk. “All right. I'll be in the fitness center. You been there today?”

“While you were on your, uh, 'Check Ride' with the General,” Ellis said. “Be warned: Doc's got one of his medics with a list, and he's checking off names.”

“Thanks, Mark.”


Guru went to his tent to change into some workout clothes, and went over to the fitness tent. Sure enough, one of Doc Waters' medics was waiting outside. “Doc have you keeping tabs on who's working out?” He asked the ex-PJ Tech Sergeant who had a clipboard in hand.

“Yes, sir,” the sergeant replied. He checked off the CO's name on the list.

“Figures,” the CO nodded, then he went inside. He got on a treadmill and started his run, and after a few minutes, noticed the rest of his flight come in, plus Dave Golen, Flossy, Jang, and Dave's GIB. Sure enough, several of the others-mostly Marines, but a few Navy, stared at Kara and several of the other women in their sports bras or tank tops, only to receive icy stares in return. Most of the old hands knew not to go any further, but a few persisted, only to be told by others that Kara in particular had a long memory, and would get her revenge-usually at the pool table or a poker game. After his run, and some time on the weight machines, Guru told the NCOIC of the ten to have his crews at the briefing room in fifteen, left to take a quick shower, and get changed back into a flight suit.

When he got back to the squadron office, his Ops Officer was waiting. “Don,” Guru asked.

“Boss,” Don Van Loan nodded. “Got a new mission for you.” Just then, Dave Golen came in.

“Anything for us?” Golen asked the Ops Officer.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” Van Loan said. “Boss, you've got a target here, north of Hico. It's a SAM support facility, and it looks like they're moving in some SA-2 and SA-3.”

“Lovely,” Guru said. “At least we get to take them out before they can get the sites set up.”

“That's the idea, Boss,” Van Loan replied. “Dave? You and Flossy are going to Walnut Springs. Fuel dump, which explains a two-ship.”

Golen nodded. “It does. That escort for the recon didn't draw MiGs, but everyone and their mother was shooting at us.”

“Libyan sector?” Guru asked.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” Golen replied. “How'd you know?”

“Simple,” Guru said. “The Libyans are the only ones who shoot as if ammo is going to be outlawed in the next five minutes. Not to mention they hardly aim at all.”

“That they did.” Golen checked his packet. “We're still Mustang. You?”

“Corvette,” the CO said. “If you hit trouble, Dave? Holler. We'll be there.”

“Same for you,” replied Golen.

The two shook hands, then went to brief their respective crews. When Guru got to his flight's briefing room, everyone was there, along with a four-legged guest. “Okay, who let Buddy in?”

“He was here when we got here,” Kara said. “And he's sound asleep.”

“Good,” Hoser nodded. “He was alert during the DACT brief, and we all know what happened.”

Goalie grinned. “He was, and we do. What's up for us?”

“SAM support facility,” Guru said, opening the briefing packet. “Here, about seven miles north of Hico. There's a town-more like a collection of houses with a church than a town, called Duffau. Five of those Farm-to-Market Roads come together there. Our target is north of the town itself. Right at the F.M. 2481/F.M. 212 intersection. There's a ranch there, and Ivan's using it as a SAM support facility.”

“So we get to kill them before they set up the SAM sites?” Sweaty asked. “Sounds good to me.”

“Better that way,” Kara said. “What's there?”

“SA-2, and there's not only several SA-2s on transporters, but more in their shipping containers,” Guru said, pointing to a recon photo. And note the trucks with two missiles on top. Those are SA-3 transporters.” He noted the intel notations in the photo.”

Preacher looked at the photo. “And SA-4 transporters, I noticed. Nice of them to put all their SAMs in one basket.”

“It is that,” Guru said. “Okay, targets. I'll take the SA-2 area. Kara? You go for the -3s, and Sweaty? The -4s are all yours.”

“Thanks, Boss,” Kara replied.

“Hoser? You take the ranch house and barns.” Guru said, tapping the imagery with a pen. “The ranch house is probably their CP, and where the officers bed down. The missile techs are in the barns, in all likelihood.”

“Got it,” Hoser said. “Ordnance?”

“Six Mark-82 Snakeyes, six M-117Rs each airplane,” said the CO. “The Mark-82s have the Daisy Cutter fuze extensions. Other than that? Usual air-to-air load, ECM pods, and wing tanks.”

Heads nodded at that. “Defenses?” Goalie asked.

“Several ZU-23s around the place, and you can expect MANPADS as well. This is the East German rear, so SA-4s from Stephenville are possible. And there's this.”

“What?”

“Some of the Russians and East Germans we helped bomb the shit out of are probably close by, resting up and refitting. So you can expect regimental and divisional level air defense anyhere. See the look on Sin Licon's face when we told him what we hit, instead of the C3 site?” Guru reminded everyone. The squadron intelligence officer, Capt. Darren “Sin” Licon, was very surprised when the crews told him what had been at the location of a C3 site they had been briefed to hit, to say the least.

Heads nodded at that. “So, we could run into almost anything going in or going out?” Hoser wanted to know.

“That's about it. If you see any of those basketball-sized tracers on the target? Abort,” said Guru. “Anywhere else? Evade, and call out the position.”

Kara nodded. “Got it, Boss. MiG theats?”

“Unchanged since this morning. So are bailout areas.”

“Sounds good,” Sweaty said. “And ingress?”

“Coming to that,” Guru nodded. “After the pre-strike refueling, we cross the fence here, at Ranger, on the I-20. Get down low, and head due south for Proctor Lake. Once we hit the lake, head east to Route 6 and the town of Clairette. Then we go to U.S. 281. After that, we pick up an old railroad right of way just to the east of the highway. That's the IP. After you make your run, get back down low, and head northeast. Pick up the Brazos somewhere between Glen Rose and Granbury to the north, then we head for the I-20.”

“We're on the Soviet/East German boundary,” Brainiac noted. “On the way in, I mean.”

“That we are. Soviet 32nd Army to the west of the East Germans. We've been along that boundary before, and they don't coordinate air defense for some reason. Anyway, this may be the last one of the day, but treat it like it's the first. DO NOT get complacent,” Guru said firmly. “Understood?”

“Loud and clear, Major,” Kara said. As usual, when someone addressed Guru by his rank, that meant they were very serious about the subject at hand.

“Good to hear,” Guru nodded. “All right; anything else?” Heads shook no. Guru nodded, then glanced at Buddy. The dog was sound asleep.

“Looks like Buddy thinks it'll be an easy one,” KT joked.

The CO grinned. “Let's hope he's right. Time to get back at it. Gear up and meet me at 512.”

The crews went to their locker rooms to gear up. When Guru came out of the Men's Locker Room, Goalie was waiting outside, as usual, geared up and ready. “Ready to rock?”

“Game time,” she replied.

“It is that,” Guru nodded.

Guru and Goalie then left the squadron building and headed for the squadron dispersal. When they got to 512's revetment, the rest of the flight was there, waiting, as was General Olds.”General,” Guru said as he and Goalie sketched a salute.

“Major,” Olds replied. “Lieutenant,” he added. “Just wanted to see you all off this time.”

“Thank you, sir, and I didn't ask earlier, but hoped you liked the Check Ride.”

“Major, that flight made me feel twenty years younger. Hope you have a good mission,” Olds said.

“Thank you, sir,” Guru replied. “All right, people. Gather round.” He was giving his final instructions.
“Usual procedures on the radio.”

Sweaty nodded. “Call signs between us, and mission code to AWACS and other interested parties.”

“Right you are,” Guru said. “Remember, if you see those basketball-sized tracers at the target? Abort.”

“Got it,” Kara nodded, and so did the others.

“Any other questions?” Guru asked. Heads shook no. Then he clapped his hands. “Time to go get 'em. Let's hit it.”

The crews headed to their aircraft, and as Guru and Goalie went into 512's revetment, General Olds accompanied them. Sergeant Crowley was waiting, and the Crew Chief snapped a salute. “Major, Five-twelve's ready to go.”

“Thanks, Sergeant,” Guru said. He and Goalie did their usual preflight walkaround, then he signed for the aircraft. The bombs were in their racks, and the usual air-to-air load of four AIM-9Ps, two AIM-7s (now Fs), and an ALQ-119 ECM pod in the left front Sparrow well, along with the two 370 gallon wint tanks were all loaded. Then it was time for him and Goalie to mount the aircraft, and before they climbed aboard, General Olds was waiting one last time. “General?”

“Major,” Olds said, extending his hand. “Good luck. And you, Lieutenant,” he said to Goalie.

Guru shook hands with the General, who did the same with Goalie. “Thank you, sir.”

“Bring everybody back,” Olds said with due seriousness.

“Do my best, General,” Guru said as he climbed the crew ladder. “No guarantees in this business.”

“Ain't that the sorry truth,” Olds admitted. “Just do your best,” Major. Then a Dodge Crew-Cab pickup pulled up and Master Sergeant Ross waved to the General. “That's my ride, Major. See you when you get back.”

“Yes, sir,” Guur said as he put his helmet on and got strapped in. Then he saw the General get in the pickup and it drove off. Then he and Goalie did the preflight. “Last one.”

“Always good,” Goalie said as she went through the checklist. “Once more unto the breach. Ejection seats?”

“Armed top and bottom. Check yours,” Guru replied. “Just leave out the 'close the walls with our dead' crap. Arnie?” That meant the ARN-101 DMAS.

“Arnie's set, and INS ready,” Goalie said. “I'll go along with that. Preflight complete and ready for engine start.”

“Roger that,” said Guru. He gave a thumbs-up to Sergeant Crowley, who gave the “Start Engines” signal. First one, then two, J-79 engines were up and running. Once the run-up was complete, Guru called the Tower. “Tower, Corvette Lead with four, requesting taxi and takeoff instructions.”

“Corvette Lead, Tower,” the controller replied at once. “Clear to taxi to Runway Three-three-Charlie. Hold prior to the Active, and you are number two in line.”

“Roger, Tower. Corvette Lead is rolling.” Guru then gave another thumbs-up to Sergeant Crowley, who waved to the ground crew. The chocks were pulled away from the tires, and Crowley gave the “Taxi” signal.

Guru released the brakes, and taxied out of the revetment. When 512 cleared the revetment, Sergeant Crowley snapped a salute, and both pilot and GIB returned it. Guru then taxied to Runway 33C, with the rest of the flight following. When they got to the holding area, a Marine F-4 flight was ahead of them as a flight of Navy A-7s went down the runway. After that, a flight of Marine Hornets landed. After the Marine Phantoms taxied onto the runway, it was their turn.

Corvette Flight taxied into the holding area, where the armorers removed the weapon safeties. As they did that, the Marine F-4s took off, then it was their turn to taxi. “Tower, Corvette Lead requesting taxi for takeoff.”

“Corvette Lead, Tower. Clear to taxi for takeoff. Winds are two-seven-two for five.”

“Roger, Tower,” Guru called. He then taxied 512 onto the runway, and he and Goalie did a final check. Guru glanced to the right, and found Kara and Brainiac in 520 in their Five O'clock position, ready to go. Both crews exchanged thumbs-up, then it was time. “Tower, Corvette Lead requesting clear for takeoff.”

As usual, the Tower didn't reply, but flashed a green light. Clear for takeoff.

“Ready?” Guru asked his GIB.

“Let's go,” Goalie said. “Canopy down.” She closed and locked her canopy.

“Time to fly,” Guru said as he closed and locked his canopy. A quick glance to the right showed 520's crew had done the same. “Here we go.” Guru applied full power, and released the brakes. 512 then thundered down the runway and into the air. Right with them was 520. Thirty seconds later, it was Sweaty and Hoser's turn. Then the flight rendezvoused at FL 110, and headed south for the tankers.