[Matt Wiser]

The three shot-down aircrew return, and the 335th blows off steam. Anyone recognize the name of the HH-3E driver?


Officer's Club Tent, Sheppard AFB, TX: 1515 Hours Central War Time:


Guru and Goalie went into the O-Club Tent, and found the mood there a bit subdued than normal, since it hadn't just been the 335th that had taken lumps, for two Marine F-4 squadrons had lost birds and crews, and a Navy A-7 squadron had also lost two aircraft and a pilot. The CO and his GIB found Colonel Brady at the bar, along with Maj. Bill Poore, the CO of VMFA-134. “Colonel,” Guru said.

“Major,” Brady replied. “And Lieutenant. Word's gotten around about your losses.”

“Yes, sir. Two birds down and three of four crew recovered by the Jollys. The other crewman didn't get out.”

“Join the club,” Poore said. “Lost a bird and a crew. Just before you guys lost your two, and pretty much in the same place.”

Guru nodded. “Sorry, Bill. Still, losing only one crew member doesn't make the letter-writing any easier.”

“No, Major, it doesn't.” Brady said. “How'd that go?”

“Took five drafts and two cups of coffee,” Guru said. “I think I got it, but there's no real guidelines.”

“No, there isn't,” Brady agreed. “So, going to drown your sorrows?”

Guru nodded. “At the very least, sir? Take them for a little swim.” He gestured to the barkeep. “What do you have?”

“Major, Sam Adams arrived today,” the barkeep smiled.

“Good. Two: one for me, and one for the Lieutenant,” Guru said, nodding at Goalie.

The barkeep nodded and produced two bottles. “Here ya go, Major.”

“Thanks,” Guru said. He paid the man, then he and Goalie found a table and sat down. “Well...hell of a day.”

“That it was,” Goalie agreed. “So, what'll we drink to?”

“Just getting through the day,” the CO said.

“I'll drink to that.”


A few minutes later, Kara, Brainiac, Sweaty,and Preacher came in. They got their drinks, then came over to the CO's table. “Boss,” Kara said.

“Where's Don?” Guru asked.

“He'll be here in a few minutes. But we did get this from Tenth Air Force: we're getting an ATO. Hopefully, no more CAS,” Kara said.

“Here's to that,” Sweaty raised her bottle of Bud.

“Amen,” Preacher added.

“I'll go with that,” the CO said. “Anything else?”

“That's it,” Kara said.

Then the Marine Mess staff brought in dinner. Chicken-fried steak with corn on the cob and mashed potatoes, or Roast Chicken with the usual trimmings. After getting their dinner, people were eating and talking, when Ms. Wendt and her crew came in. After chatting with Colonel Brady, she came over to Guru's table. “Major,”

“Ms. Wendt,” the CO nodded politely. He was already on his second beer. “Hope you don't mind seeing a squadron CO get slightly drunk.”

“After what happened today? I don't blame you at all,” Ms. Wendt said. And the aircrews were surprised to hear that. Clearly, she was settling in as a combat correspondent. “At least we're now cleared to fly.”

“Like I said,” Guru nodded. “We'll see about getting you that check ride. Can't tell you when. But when it comes, be ready.”

“Thank you, Major.”

“You're welcome,” Guru said. He checked his watch, then turned to Kara. “It's 1728. Get the barkeep to change the TV to AFN's news channel.”

“Walter Cronkite and the CBS Evening News?” Kara asked, though she knew full well what the CO meant.

“You got it.” Guru said.

Kara nodded and went to the bar, talked to the barkeep, then not only got him to change the channel, but also brought back beers for her flight mates. “Here you go, people.”

“Thanks, Kara,” Guru said. Just then the Opening titles came on the screen, then the most trusted man in America came on.

“Good evening from Los Angeles,” Cronkite began. “U.S. Forces near Dallas engaged several Soviet divisions east of the city, and were engaged in heavy fighting to clear parts of East Texas from the Soviets. Richard Threkeld has a report.”

The veteran reporter, who had been in Vietnam and the Middle East, gave an account of being with the 83rd Infantry Division, as they pushed south from I-30. Images of M-60A3 tanks and M-113 APCs moving forward, IS-3M and T-34 tanks either burning or blowing apart, artillery falling (both friendly and enemy), and aircraft overhead. Images of grey-painted Phantoms and Skyhawks, Olive Drab A-10s and SEA-painted A-7s and F-4s also filled the screen, and that drew applause from the aircrews. As did some scenes of Soviet prisoners being sent to the rear.

“Glad to see they caught us,” Goalie said.

“You never know who's down there,” Sweaty said.

After a report from a carrier that was launching strikes into Cuba, and another from Philadelphia, mentioning Congressional action on a new GI Bill to go into effect when the war ended, came a commercial break. When that was over, a new segment came up. “The Army and Marine forces in Texas have been getting heavy air support. Jana Wendt, from our sister network in Australia, 9 News, filed this report from an air base in a liberated part of the Lone Star State.”

“Phantom, Skyhawk, Corsair, Intruder, Ardvark, Hornet. To the Marines and soldiers fighting in this part of Texas,” Ms. Wendt said, as footage of armed fighters taxiing to the runway and then taking off ran, “they are the brothers and sisters who take on enemy MiG fighters and take out targets ahead of them on the ground. To the pilots and navigators, these are the chariots that they go to war in. In one unit, an Air Force fighter squadron, their Phantoms look just like those that flew in Southeast Asia fifteen years ago. But none of the crews are Vietnam veterans. The average age of a pilot or navigator is 27. And the squadron's commander isn't that much older than the people he flies with. But today, it's just another mission, as far as he's concerned.”

The screen then showed Guru, with no titles on the screen, but anyone watching could see his nametag with wings, and the gold oak leaves on his shoulders. “How'd it go, Major?” Ms. Wendt asked.

“Not bad,” Guru said. “Tore up an airfield and made some of Fidel's Su-25s become scrap metal.”

“How was the resistance?”

“You mean ground fire? There was a lot of shooting. Didn't touch us, though.”

“And what's next? The Major had this answer,” Ms. Wendt's voice-over said.

“We debrief, get something to eat, then we get ready and go out again.”

“And so they did,” the voice-over continued. Images of F-4s taxiing out and taking off. “Just as their grandfathers did in World War II and Korea, and their fathers in Vietnam. And one more day, as one officer told me, until the Russians and Cubans get sent back where they came from. Or, as one female officer said, and I'll paraphrase her, 'sent someplace a lot more hotter.' To the men and women on this base, every bomb dropped means friendly lives saved on the ground, and fewer enemy for their countrymen in the Army and Marines to face. Jana Wendt, CBS News, with the U.S. Air Force, somewhere in Texas.”

After the segment aired, there was applause. Given how many military personnel still felt about the media, even after two years of war, the applause was a surprise to Ms. Wendt and her crew.

“Well, Ms. Wendt,” Kodak Griffith said. “Looks like they think you did a good enough job.”

“Still some bad feelings about the press, I was told,” she replied.

“You could say that,” the Marine PAO said. “Leftover from Vietnam and the years after. Now, different story.”


“Well, Guru?” Goalie asked. “How's it feel to be a TV star?”

“Got my TV exposure,” Guru nodded, taking a swig from his beer bottle. “Just hope some GRU analyst recording that didn't catch my nametag.”

“You think they have a file on you?” Sweaty asked. This was news to her.

“Probably on all of us. I was told in OTS that, after graduation, the Air Force would have one file on us, and there would be another one: in Moscow.”

Kara stared at her CO. “WHAT?”

“Yep. They ever tell you that in ROTC?” The CO replied. “Or the Academy?” He nodded in Goalie's direction.

“They did, but I thought they were pulling our legs,” Kara admitted.

“Same here,” Goalie said. “How would they find out?”

“Simple,” Darren Licon said. He'd been overhearing the conversation. “Prewar, the Soviet Air Attache either picked up a copy of Air Force Times, or had a source who did. New Lieutenants, promotions, all of that got printed. Same for the other services. I imagine they had people at their Washington Station going through all of that..”

'They don't do that these days,” Preacher said. “Print those lists, I mean.”

“No, but back then, different story,” the intelligence officer noted. “There's probably dossiers on every prewar officer in the 335th, and who knows how many others?”

“Too many,” Braniac nodded.

Kara and Goalie were incredulous, though. “There's files on all of us in Moscow?” Goalie asked.

“Probably,” Licon said.

“On that happy note,” Kara said. “I'm definitely getting drunk before Twelve-Hour.” She went to the bar and bought another round for their table.

“You going to the pool table?” Guru asked his wingmate.

“In a heartbeat,” Kara said proudly.

“Remember, as long as the newsies are here? Take a check if they can't pay you.”

Kara nodded. “Will do, Major.” She then headed to the pool table.


Soon, those inside the O-Club heard the sound of a large helicopter. “That's probably Jolly Green bringing our people back,” Mark Ellis noted.

“It probably is. Okay, Mark. Do me a favor. Find Ross,” Guru said.

“Let me guess: we need to get the SAR guys their reward.”

“You got it. A case of beer per rescued crew member,” said the CO. “That's the rule. Unofficially speaking.”

“On my way,” the Exec said.


A few minutes later, Ellis came back and went over to Guru. “Got it taken care of.”

“Good,” said Guru. “That was them?”

“It was,” the Exec replied. “Doc Waters is giving them a quick checkup, then they'll be over here. And the Jolly pilot? Friend of yours.”

“Oh?”

“Says she's an OTS classmate of yours.”

“There were a few women in my class,” Guru recalled. “A couple of them got flight, as I recall.”

“She says she was one of 'em,” Ellis said.

It wasn't long until Hoser, KT, and Revlon came into the Club, to the applause and cheers of everyone there. Even the loathed and despised Major Frank Carson was showing his gratitude, much to everyone's surprise. They were followed by the Jolly Green crew, who also got a round of applause. Everyone there knew that one day, they might need the Jolly Greens' services, and the arguments between “Zoomies” and “Rotorheads” stopped at that point. After Major Wiser bought drinks for the three lost sheep, he rang the bell. “People, I know we've all got mixed emotions right now, as the Air Force, Marines, and Navy here have all lost people today, but three of our lost sheep are back. Hoser, KT, and Revlon? Stand up and be counted.” They did, and there was yet another round of applause. “Here's to them. They came back to fly and fight another day.”

“Here, here,” Don Van Loan said.

'And here's to our CSAR brethren,” Guru went on, nodding at the two HH-3 pilots. “Don't laugh at those guys, because tomorrow's another day, and you might be needing their services,” the CO reminded everyone. “You guys get a case of beer per downed crew member recovered, so drink up when you can.”

The Jolly drivers grinned. And Guru still hadn't noticed the blonde female HH-3 driver nodding in his direction.

Guru then nodded to Colonel Brady and the other squadron commanders. They came up, and it was Colonel Brady who started it. “To our lost friends,” he said. And each CO gave the name or names of the aircrew lost that day.

When it was his turn, Guru nodded. “To Razor.”

“To Razor,” the 335th members said as they raised their bottles or glasses.

“Colonel?”

The MAG-11 CO nodded. “Okay, people! Twenty minutes to Twelve-Hour, so drink up!”

Guru got his fourth beer, then went back to Hoser, KT, and Revlon. “You guys okay?”

“Cleared for flight,” Hoser said. “Hardly had time to get out of our chutes when the PJ found us.”

“Same here,” KT said. “First guy I see is a PJ asking me if I'm hurt.”

“Revlon?”Major Wiser asked the survivor of Dodge Two-four. “What about you?”

“I'm okay, Major,” Revlon said, brushing back her cropped brown hair. “Landed between two Soviet Regiments, they told me. But a downed pilot was the least of their problems.”

“What happened with Razor?”

“Don't know. We took fire, then got hit. Right in the nose and next to the front cockpit. He might have bought it right there. So I got out.”

“Okay. You three are off the flight schedule tomorrow. Hoser, KT? You guys get a new bird due in from Japan tomorrow. And we'll get a new pilot for Revlon,” the CO said. “If you guys want to get drunk, be my guest. Sleep in, and get up when you feel like it. But sometime tomorrow, I'm going to want to hear from you all. I want to know what happened out there.”

“Will do, Major,” Hoser said, and the others nodded.

“All right, get loaded. That's an order.”

Revlon nodded. 'Major, that's an order we're glad to obey.” And the trio headed to the bar.

Guru then went back to his table. “Hell of a day,” the CO said. “Fourth, and last, beer before Twelve-Hour.”

“You're drunk, Boss,” Sweaty said. “And glad to be?”

“I am,” Guru said. Before he could sit down, there was a tap on his left shoulder. He turned, and saw a face he hadn't seen in a while. “Well, I'll be damned. Look who the cat dragged in.”

“Is that any way to greet an old classmate?” Capt. Beverly Lynne said. “Nice to see you, well, now, Major Guru.”

“Nice to see you, too,” Guru said, giving his old classmate a hug. “Thanks for bringing my people back.”

“That's our job,” a First Lieutenant standing next to Lynne said. “Steve Kearny, sir.”

“My copilot,” Lynne said. “When did you get the oak leaves?”

“Few days ago, after we lost our CO,” Guru said. “How long you been driving Jollys?”

“Since June '86,” said Lynne. “Been an AC since May.”

“PRAIRIE FIRE,” Goalie observed.

“My GIB,” Guru said, introducing everyone at the table. “You guys at Perrin?” That meant the old Perrin AFB near Sherman, now reactivated.

“Nope. We're with an Army unit. The Cobra Girls,” Lynne said. “They fly, fight, and party the same way. Hard.”

“So those were the Cobras covering you?” Sweaty asked.

“Yep. Been to their parties, and we blue-suiters are the sanest ones there,” Kearny told the 335th people.

Preacher looked at him, then his pilot. “Those girls as wild as they say?”

“Pretty much,” Lynne said. “They've got a reputation for hell-raising and debauchery that's probably only met by the 13th Cav.”

“Lord have mercy if the Cobra Chicks and the Hell's Angels are off the line at the same time,” the former seminary student said.

“Our detachment CO said the same thing,” Lynne said. She checked her watch. “Gotta run. Our chopper should be refueled by now.”

“You'll find some extra cargo loaded. My Master Sergeant had orders to get a case of beer for each crew member recovered,” Guru said.

“Thanks, Guru,” Lynne said. “Too bad we can't RON. I'd love to challenge your Kara Thrace at pool.”

“Be careful,” Braniac said. “She doesn't take checks, So have cash on hand.”

“What if you can't pay,for whatever reason?” Kearny asked.

The 335th crewers looked at each other. “Think the supply tent, a sleeping bag on the floor, a Coleman lantern for ambiance, and, well, you get the rest of the idea,” Sweaty told the Jolly drivers.

“Got you.”

“Consider yourselves warned, Bev,” said Guru. “If you have to RON? Bring cash, like Brainiac said.”

“That's good to know. Well, time to go. You take care, Guru.”

“You too, and Bev?”

The blonde Jolly driver turned to her old classmate. “Yeah?”

Major Wiser looked at his classmate with due seriousness. “Thanks. You guys made sure I only had one letter to write, instead of four.”

“That's our job,” Lynne said. “Be seeing you.”

“You too,” Guru said.

The Jolly drivers nodded, then headed on out.

“Well?” Goalie asked. “You two have a history?”

“Met in OTS. Stayed in touch afterward, and we both got flight. She got helos, while I got fast jets. Had a final fling after we got our wings, and that was it,” Guru said.

Goalie nodded. “Where was she, last you heard?”

“Whiteman,” said Guru.

“Glad she's not there now?” Sweaty asked.

“I'd ask Hoser, KT, and Revlon that,” Guru said. “And did you notice she had the mark of a ring on her finger? I'll bet she's either engaged or married.”

“One way to look at it,” Goalie said. “She was flying Site Support for SAC?”

“That's what I heard,” Guru said. “If she was in the air? I'll bet she saw Kansas City....”

On that happy thought, there was silence around the table.

“Not good,” Preacher said to break the silence.

“No,” agreed Guru.

A few minutes later, Doc Waters and one of the Navy flight surgeons rang the bell at the bar. “Twelve-Hour is now in effect!”

Those not on the flight schedule held onto their drinks, while those who were flying in the morning turned what was left of theirs in, or poured them out. It wasn't long until 2100 came along, and aircrew curfew. Those flying in the morning left the tent and either walked, or staggered, to their tents and found their racks. Because it wouldn't be long until 0430 and wake-up, And they would do it all over again.