[Matt Wiser]

Light the (Prairie) Fire


Williams AFB, AZ, 14 May, 1987; 1725 Hours Mountain War Time:


Captain Matt “Guru” Wiser of the 335th Tactical Fighter Squadron taxied his F-4E Phantom into its dispersal area. He and his flight had flown four missions that day, including one up to the Denver Siege Perimeter. Though there would be light enough for another forty-five minutes or so, this was the last flight of the day. After shutting down, he and his WSO, First Lieutenant Lisa Eichhorn, climbed down from the aircraft, bone tired and ready to get something to eat, and maybe have a beer in the Officer's Club, before going to their billet at the Mesa Sheraton, getting some sleep, and then going out the next morning and doing it all over again. His crew chief, Staff Sergeant Mike Crowley, was waiting for him. “Sergeant.”

“Sir,” Crowley said. “Word from Colonel Rivers, all aircrew meeting in the main briefing room. Now, Sir.”

The members of his flight looked at each other. His wingmate, Captain Kara “Starbuck” Thrace and her back-seater, Captain Judd Brewster, just rolled their eyes. Then the second element came over; First Lieutenant Valerie “Sweaty” Blanchard and her back-seater Second Lieutenant Bryan Simmonds, along with First Lieutenant Nathan West and his back-seater Second Lieutenant Kathryn Thompson. “What's going on?” Sweaty asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Guru said. “Let's go.”

The four crews headed on over to the squadron building, which had housed a T-37 training squadron prewar, and they went right to the main briefing room, not even bothering to get out of their G-Suits and harnesses. When they got there, they discovered the room was packed, and the CO, Lt. Col. Dean Rivers had a scowl on his face. Guru nodded to Maj. David Golen, who was an Israeli AF observer visiting the squadron. “Ever seen anything like this?”

“Once. The Yom Kippur War, on the first day, and then the day we crossed the Canal,” Golen said. He'd been a brand-new Second Lieutenant in 1973, and had nailed three MiGs during that war, and had a couple more in F-16s during the Bekaa Valley Turkey Shoot in 1982.

“Well, now that everyone's here,” Colonel Rivers said. “Especially the Exec,” nodding in Guru's direction. “Got some bad news for all of you: the twelve-hour rule is in effect, as of now. Curfew for you guys is at 2000. Wake-up is at 0300, and first wheels up tomorrow morning is at 0430.”

“What?” Starbuck said, and Guru echoed her. In fact, almost everyone was. The buzz in the room was palpable.

“Don't bother eating breakfast at billeting, because you'll eat here in the morning. The maintenance and ordnance folks will be up all night, getting your birds tweaked, and then armed,” Rivers continued. “I can't tell you guys any more than that, and this comes from Tenth Air Force. Any questions?”

“Colonel,” Guru's hand shot up. “What's this all about? Wasn't like this in the early days.”

“Can't tell you, XO,” Rivers said. Captain Wiser was the Executive Officer of the 335th. “Any other questions?” Rivers asked. He surveyed the room, then nodded. “All right. Get on over to the Sheraton, have a good dinner, get a good night's sleep, and see you in the morning. 0330.”

“Guru, what's going on?” Lieutenant Eichhorn, call sign Goalie, asked. “Something's up.”

“Yeah,” Guru said. “Go on ahead and get the debrief going. I'm going to see what this is all about.”
He then went down to see Colonel Rivers. “Sir. Can we talk?”

“My office,” Rivers said. And the two officers went to the CO's office. “Close the door, XO.”

After Guru did so, he asked “Permission to speak freely, Sir?”

“Always, Guru,” Rivers said. “Say whatever's on your mind.”

“Sir, I'm your Exec. If something's going on, I need to know about it. Especially if something happens to you,” Guru told his CO.

“I know, Guru, I know,” replied the CO. “I don't like it any more than you do, but this came from the top. Tenth Air Force. And General Tanner didn't like this either.”

And when General Tanner didn't like something, Guru knew, it had to be important. “Sir, does this have anything to do with Wichita? Or that conference you went to last week?”

“Maybe. That's all I can tell you. If anything happens to me, I'm putting together a packet with everything you need. Ross will give it to you,” the CO said. Master Sergeant Michael Ross was the squadron's senior NCO. And no one was more highly respected in the squadron than he was. The man was old enough to be the father of nearly everybody in the unit, and the enlisted airmen looked up to him as a father figure.

Guru nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Anything else?” Rivers asked.

“No, Sir.”

“All right; get debriefed, get something to eat, and have a good night's sleep. It'll be a busy day tomorrow.”

“Yes, Sir,” Guru said.

“Dismissed,” Rivers nodded, and Guru saluted and headed out of the office. He then headed over to the locker room, got out of his harness and G-Suit, then went to the old classroom that his flight used for briefings and debriefings.

“Well?” Goalie asked as he entered.

“No joy,” Guru told his flight. “Whatever's going on, we won't know until after the first sortie.”

“What?” Kara and Sweaty asked at once.

“They're holding this close to the chest. This might have something to do with Wichita, but Rivers wouldn't tell me any more than that.”

Sweaty looked at her flight lead. “Guru, you're the XO. Shouldn't you know what's going on?”

“That's what I told him,” Guru replied. “He told me this comes from the top, and that's higher than General Tanner. Whatever this is, security's super-tight.”

Heads nodded at that. Something was up. And whatever it was, it was important. “So when do we know?” Kara asked.

“When we come back from the first sortie.” Guru said. “Let's get the debrief done, something to eat, then get back to the Sheraton. Won't be long until 0300.”


Sheraton Mesa Resort: 0300 Mountain War Time, 15 May 1987:

The phone rang in between the two beds. Each bed's occupant reached for the phone, but only one grabbed the handle. “Yeah?”

“This is your 3:00 AM wake-up call,” the voice on the other end said.

“Thank you,” Guru said as he hung up. He quickly got out of bed, and quickly got dressed. Captain Don Van Loan, his roommate, got up as well. “Won't be long until we know what this is all about.”

'Yeah,” Van Loan, the assistant Ops Officer, said.

Both quickly shaved and brushed their teeth, then headed on out, and the hall was filled with 335th and Marine aircrews who were all headed to the base. When they left the lobby of the hotel, the buses were there, waiting. The crews got onto the buses, then were bused to the base. When they got off, they noticed there was a large amount of activity, as promised, to get the first birds off by 0430. And everyone noticed the various squadron commanders there, waiting for their people. Guru noticed Colonel Rivers. “Boss.”

“Guru,” the CO said. “You guys all have fifteen minutes to eat. Then get dressed to fly, hit your briefs, then man your aircraft. First wheels up at 0430.”

“You heard him,” Guru told the 335th crews. Then they all filed into a Marine operated mess tent. He turned to Goalie. “When's the last time you ate in a chow line?”

“Been a while. The Academy, I think,” Goalie said.

Nodding, Guru picked up a tray and silverware. He looked at the young Marine cooks. “All right, what have you guys got here?”

“Here you go, Sir,” a Marine PFC replied, taking lids off of food trays.

“Lovely,” Guru said. “Steak and scrambled eggs.” He took a steak, some scrambled eggs, fried potatoes, toast, and coffee.

“The condemned got fed a hearty meal,” Goalie quipped as she got her meal, then sat down with her pilot.

“Clear the way! Dead people walking coming through,” Kara said, and the 335th people had a good laugh at that. But they couldn't linger, for they had to be in their briefing rooms shortly. The aircrew ate quickly, then all of them, Air Force and Marine, headed to their respective squadrons to be briefed.

When the 335th's officers arrived, they were told to get ready to fly, and report to their flight briefing rooms. And when Guru and the members of his flight arrived, they found two Marine officers, both aviators, waiting. “You guys flying with us?” Guru asked.

“That's right,” the senior one, Capt. Jerry Singleton, said, introducing his wingmate, First Lt. Cory Abbott. “We're your SAM and flak suppressors.”

After introductions, Guru opened the briefing packet. “Great.”

“What?” Kara asked.

“Moriarty, along I-40. Target is just south of the town. A mix of command vehicles and dugouts.”

“What about 'em?” Sweaty asked.

Guru looked at everyone. “HQ, Soviet 13th Army.”

The room was silent for a minute. “What the hell?” Kara asked. “Someone's gone nuts.”

“Tell me about it,” Guru said. “SA-2 and SA-3 nearby, plus at least one 57-mm battery, and watch for ZU-23s as well. They have a guard battalion around the HQ, so MANPADS will be there as well.”

“So how do we do this?” Goalie asked. “We don't have any Pave Tack pods, so what are we carrying?”

“Lead element has a dozen Mark-82s, each airplane,” Guru replied. “Second element has Mark-20 Rockeyes to rip them up afterwards. We go in, low and fast, make a turn and do our run from West to East. Pop-up at thirty seconds to target, drop our ordnance, and get gone. One pass and haul ass.”

“Sounds good to me,” Sweaty said. “Usual air-to-air load?”

“Yep,” Guru replied. “Four AIM-9s-and we get Ps now, by the way, and two AIM-7Es. Usual ALQ-101 in a forwards Sparrow well and a full load of 20-mm.” He looked around. “Okay, SAM-supporession,” he said, turning to the two Marines. “I want the SA-3 site hit with HARM, and the 57 site hit as well. Then CBU what's left.”

“Got it,” Captain Singleton replied.

“Bailout areas are anyplace where there isn't a road. Stay with a cripple as long as you can. If you can hit the river, best of all” Guru said, and everyone nodded. Then there was a knock on the door. “Come on in and show yourself!”

In came First Lieutenant Darren Licon, the Squadron Intelligence Officer. “Guru, got something from the Boss.”

“What is it?”

“Stay away from the Alberquerque area is what he's telling everyone.” Licon said. “And before you ask, he told me to tell you that you'll see why when sunrise comes.”

The aircrews looked at each other. “Lovely,” Nathan West said.

“Thanks, Darren,” Guru said. He turned to the aircrews. “Anything else?” Heads shook no. “Let's hit it.”