[Matt Wiser]

The first two missions of the day:



Over occupied New Mexico, 0525 Hours Mountain War Time, 15 May 1987:


The six-ship flight was headed due east, and as they did so, the crews could see the first rays of dawn beginning to break. They were going in a little higher than usual, since the F-4s normally didn't fly night strikes, and when they had left Williams it was still pitch dark. In the lead F-4, Guru was concentrating on flying the aircraft while Goalie handled the navigation. “Approaching Highway 285, Guru. Turn point in one minute.”

“Copy,” Guru said. “Crystal Palace, Corvette Two-One,” he said. “Any threats?”

“Corvette Two-One, Crystal Palace,” the AWACS controller called back. “Negative.”

“Roger,” Guru said.

“Turn point.... Now!” Goalie called.

Guru turned the F-4 due north. Their next turn point would be I-40. Ivan was using the Interstate as a Main Supply Route, and they'd flown strikes against supply dumps and truck parks along the freeway more than once. But they had been directed not to hit any bridges on the freeway. None at all. “How long to turn?”

“One minute,” Goalie replied.

“Copy.”

“And turn.”

Guru put the aircraft into a left turn, and in the predawn twilight, picked up the twin ribbons of interstate highway. So far, it looked like I-40 was quiet. Not for long, he thought. You guys are getting a big wake-up call this morning....”Pop up?”

“One minute.”

“Corvette Flight, Lead. Switches on, radars on. Time to go to work.”

“We're hot,” Goalie called. “Stand by... and now! Pop up!”

Guru pulled up to 1500 feet AGL and he saw the town. And just to the south, there it was. All the revetments built to shelter vehicles made the target stick out like a sore thumb. He then called the two Marines. “Rattlers, go to work.”

“Roger that!” Captain Singleton called.

Both Hornets climbed further, and picked out the SA-3 site. Singleton put his HARM missile on it, and the SA-3, which had just gone from search to fire-control mode, suddenly went off the air as the HARM exploded the radar. Then the Marine element lead rolled in, and put his two Rockeye CBUs onto the SAM site, putting it out of action.

Just as the Hornet lead went in, Lieutenant Abbott rolled in on the 57-mm site. Their radar was not up, so he simply dropped his CBUs on the flak battery, ripping it apart. Then it was time for the F-4s to go in.

“Lead's in hot!” Guru called. He picked up the center of the HQ area, where a number of command vehicles were all clustered together, and all of them had antennae very prominently displayed. He lined one of them in his pipper, then hit the pickle button. “HACK!” And a dozen Mark-82 five-hundred pound bombs came off his aircraft. “Lead off safe.”

His bombs landed in the middle of the target area, and several command vehicles exploded, or were tipped over by near-misses. A number of Soviet soldiers whose vehicles had not been hit tried to start their engines, but it was too late...

“Two in hot!” Kara called. She laid down her bombs just to the south of where Guru had put his, One of her bombs happened to hit the HQ's portable generator, while another bomb landed on top of a bunker where several of the Army's staff officers were sleeping. The bunkers were built to protect against insurgent rocket or mortar attacks. Not a five-hundred pound bomb landing right on top of it....”Two's off safe.”

“Three in hot!” Sweaty yelled. She and West had a dozen CBUs, and she decided to put hers right where Guru had laid his bombs. A dozen Rockeyes came off her bird, and each CBU had 247 bomblets, ideal for ripping up armored vehicles or anything else they touched. A number of vehicles that had survived Guru's bombs were hit by the bomblets, and they fireballed. “Three's off safe.”

“Four in hot!” West said. He laid down his CBUs on where Kara had laid her bombs, and as he dropped, he noticed some flak, probably 23-mm, coming up. It was too little, too late. And like his element lead, several vehicles were hit by his CBUs, and they fireballed as well, and also caught a number of personnel out in the open, killing and wounding many. He easily outran the flak, and called, “Four off safe.”

“Copy that. Form on me, music on, and let's get the hell out of here,” Guru called. That call told everyone to turn on their jamming pods, and the four F-4s did so. The two Hornets formed up on the Phantoms, and everyone headed to the southwest. The strike birds picked up their safe-passage lane, so that the Army pukes who handled the HAWK and Patriot SAM batteries wouldn't shoot them out of the sky.

As they headed out, they all noticed something as they approached the Rio Grande. Flashes all along and behind the river. Artillery fire. And to the north, at Alberquerque's southern outskirts, it looked like something from Apocalypse Now, as the sky was full of Huey and Chinook helicopters. “What the?” Kara called over the radio.

“Wouldn't want to be there right now,” Sweaty replied. “That sky's full of choppers. And above the choppers, it's full of shells.”

“Roger that!” Guru said. “Crossing the fence.” That meant the Rio Grande. And as they did, the crews saw Army vehicles crossing the river. “Go Army...”

“This is big, Guru!” Goalie said over the intercom. “Think this is it?”

He nodded. “Maybe.” Then it was time to call the AWACS. “Crystal Palace, Corvette Flight across the fence.”

“Copy,” the controller replied. “Do you need a vector to the tankers?”

“Roger that,” Guru replied.

The AWACS controller vectored them to the tanker track over the Continental Divide, and to the fighter crews, it was crowded airspace. Lots of tankers orbiting, whether KC-135s, KC-10s, or Marine KC-130s. And it seemed that there were fighters or attack birds all over, either pulling away from the tankers and headed in, or, like they were, coming out. And as usual, battle-damaged aircraft went to the head of the line, but this morning, there were only a couple. The Hornets drank from a KC-130, while the F-4s went to a KC-10 to refuel. Then they headed back to Williams. They came into the pattern and then landed, and as they taxied to their respective dispersal areas, the crews noticed a second wave was getting ready to go. It was 0615.

Guru taxied to his revetment and shut down. After he popped his canopy, he asked Goalie. “Now we'll find out what's going on.”

“Yeah,” Goalie said as the ground crew put the crew ladders in place.

Guru and Goalie climbed down from 512, then did a quick postflight inspection. Then he turned to Sergeant Crowley. “Pull the strike camera film and send it off.” As he said that, he noticed the ordnance crews bringing CBUs to 512, and the other three birds in the flight. “What the?”

“Guru,” Goalie tapped him on the shoulder. “Colonel Rivers and Licon coming.”

The CO and the SIO came over. “How'd it go?” Rivers asked. “This debrief will be out here. Because as soon as you're all turned around, you're going back out.”

“What?” Kara asked. “Sir, if you don't mind my saying this, but what's going on?”

“Now that the first wave is back, I can finally tell you guys. This is it. Operation PRAIRIE FIRE. Ivan impaled himself at Wichita, thanks to Schwartzkopf, and now, we're going to push them back. You guys probably saw the Army crossing the Rio Grande.” When he saw them nod, Rivers continued. “And they're not stopping until the Texas line at least.”

“About time,” Guru said. “So, the mission?”

“How'd it go?” Licon asked.

“No SAMs.” Guru said.

“Flak?”

“Only as I was coming in,” Nathan said. “The Marines did their job. No heavy flak, and no SAMs.”

“BDA?” Licon wanted to know.

“We hit the target area, and there were a few secondaries,” Kara said. “I saw some from Guru's bombs.”

“And some from yours,” Sweaty added. “You'll probably need the strike footage.”

“I'll have it developed ASAP,” Rivers said. “That strike was a high-priority one.”

“Yes, Sir,” Guru agreed. “Now what?”

“Get yourselves something to drink, hit the latrine, because in twenty minutes, you're going back out.”

“Sir?” Guru asked. Nothing like this had happened much since the early days.

“You're on-call CAS. Check in with III Corps' ALO, and they'll direct you to a FAC. We'll be doing this all morning, and likely all day as well,” Rivers said. “Good luck.” He then headed off with Licon to debrief another arriving flight.

“Like the early days?” Kara asked. “I've heard horror stories about those.”

“Yeah,” Guru said. “Five missions a day for the first four days. Total confusion, just find armor headed north and strike.” He shook his head at the memory. And he'd seen photos of I-19 north of Nogales, where the 335th, along with the A-10s from Davis-Monthan, had turned the interstate into a junkyard of Mexican and Cuban armor, shattered soft-skinned vehicles, and dead and maimed men.

“Better do what the Boss said,” Sweaty nodded.

Heads nodded in agreement, and they all went to do their business and get something to drink. When they came back, the crews noticed the ordnance guys hard at work. And there were numerous AF and Marine aircraft coming in and taking off. Then, fifteen minutes later, Sergeant Crowley came over to Guru. “Sir, you're ready to rock.”

“Here we go,” Kara said, getting off a parked Hummer.

Guru nodded. One thing he had noticed: no one had gotten out of their G-Suits. “Okay, this'll be short. Go by call sign, not mission code on the radio, unless you're with a FAC or an AWACS.” He saw his flight nod. “Anything else?”

“How about applying for frequent-flier miles?” Sweaty joked. And the others laughed.

“I'll take it up with the CO,” Guru laughed. “Anything else?” Heads shook no. He grabbed his flight helmet. “Time to go. Let's hit it.”

Five minutes later, the flight was taxiing to the runway, and then they launched. And this was the second mission of the day, and it was only 0705.......



Over Western New Mexico, 0815 Hours:


The flight of four F-4s was orbiting about twenty miles west of Los Lunas, on the Rio Grande. They had checked in with the Air Force Air Liaison Officer with III Corps, and had been told to wait. Guru had told the man, “We ain't got the gas to stay up here all day, fella.” But they had been told to wait. Then a call came for them.

“Corvette Two-One, Bulldog Zero-One. Contact Nail 36 for tasking,” the ALO called.

“Copy that,” Guru replied. “Nail Three-Six, Corvette Two-One, how copy?”

“Corvette Two-One, Nail Three-Six. Come on in. Tasking near Edgewood on I-40.”

“Roger that,” Guru called. “Flight, Lead. Let's go to work.” And the four Phantoms headed northeast. To everyone's surprise, their RWRs were not showing any enemy SAM or fighter radars. Something was going right, though down below, the crews could see the ground forces-in this area it was the 5th Marine Division, pushing east. As the flight cleared the Sandias, Guru noticed an A-7 orbiting. Only this one was a two-seat A-7K, now being used as a FAC platform. “Nail Three-Six, Corvette Two-One. Coming in from southwest.”

“Roger, Corvette and I see you,” the FAC called. With those smoky J-79 engines, one could see an F-4 approaching before one actually had eyeballs on the airplane.

“Roger,” Guru replied. “What's the target?”

“Armor headed south on Route 344, north of the Interstate. Tanks and Bravo-Tango-Romeos. Time to make these go away, son.” the FAC replied.

“By the sound of his voice,” Goalie said from the rear cockpit. “He's a Vietnam vet.”

“Not to mention calling me 'son',” Guru quipped. “Copy, Nail. Want to make the run northeast to southwest.”

“Your call, Corvette.”

Guru nodded. “Flight, Lead. Follow me in. Northeast to Southwest. One pass only. If you have hung ordnance, don't go around for another try.”

“Copy, Lead,” Starbuck called.

“Roger.” Sweaty.

“Copy that,” “Hoser” West.

Guru led the F-4s on their maneuver, and he watched as Nail made a run and fired a couple of rockets. The WP that resulted from the rocket impact clearly showed the target.

“Anything north of the Willie Pete is yours, Corvette.” Nail replied.

“Copy. Say threat.”

“Corvette, negative radar SAMs, but Sierra Alpha-Nines, and Shilkas.” And to prove his point, the A-7 dodged a hail of 23-mm fire coming from below.

“Copy,” Guru replied. “Set it up. Everything in one pass.”

“Got it,” Goalie said. “You're hot.

“Flight, follow me in. Lead's in hot.” And with that, Guru rolled in on the armor, still in road march.


Down below, the Soviet battalion commander was shouting at his company commanders on the radio in his command BTR.” First, there had been this no-notice order to form up and join the rest of the regiment, which was somewhere south of what the locals called 'I-40'. Second, as the battalion moved south, there had been some sniping, and some RPGs shot at their vehicles, knocking out a couple of BTR-70s and blowing the tread off a T-72. And now, this solo aircraft, which had been lurking, out of SAM range, and even daring his antiaircraft vehicles to shoot at it. Then his political officer tapped him on the shoulder. “What is it, Comrade...”

“AIRCRAFT!” The Zampolit shouted, pointing to the northeast.

“Mother of...” the Soviet Major muttered, as the lead F-4 came in and cluster bombs came off the racks.

“Gotcha!” Guru yelled as he laid his Rockeyes just north of the WP smoke. “Lead off target.”

“Two's in hot!” Kara called, seeing Guru's CBUs find targets and explode several. She picked out the trailing vehicles and selected them. Again, Rockeyes came off an F-4, and she pulled out. “Two off target.”

“Three's in hot!” Sweaty called as Kara pulled off. She decided on the middle of the column, and saw several vehicles explode as Kara's CBUs went off, and there were burning vehicles where Guru had dropped his. Steady, steady, she told herself. “HACK!” A dozen Mark-20 Rockeyes came off her aircraft.

“Disperse! Get off the road!” The battalion commander was shouting. The road ahead was blocked with burning vehicles after the first two aircraft had made their runs, Then he heard another aircraft coming in, and he was cursing his driver. “Move it, you gutless...” Then his BTR took hits, exploding around him.

“Three's off target,” Sweaty called.

“Four's in hot,” Hoser said. He simply made his run in between where Guru and Sweaty had dropped theirs, Again, CBUs came off an F-4, and he pulled up after release. “Four's off target.”

“Nail, Corvette,” Guru called. “How'd we do?”

“Corvette, Nail Three-Six. I give you one-hundred percent bombs on target. Grade Point Average Four decimal Zero. Have a nice day.”

“Roger that and thank you,” Guru replied. “Flight, let's get out of here.”

“Copy, Lead,” Kara calmly replied. Then she shouted. “LEAD! BREAK RIGHT!”

Guru broke hard right, then he saw a MiG-23 overshoot him. Then he heard Kara shouting.

“FOX TWO!” And an AIM-9P came off her Phantom, streaking like a spear into the MiG's tailpipe. The missile exploded, then the MiG became a fireball. There was no chute. “Splash!”

“Good kill, Two!' Sweaty shouted.

Guru frowned underneath his oxygen mask. Where had that MiG come from? If Kara hadn't been on the ball...”Nice shootin', Starbuck,” He called. Then he called the AWACS. “Crystal Palace, Corvette Two-One.”

“Corvette Two-One, Crystal Palace, go.” the controller responded.

“Crystal Palace, we just had a Flogger jump us. Where the hell did he come from?”

“Corvette, We had him about ten seconds before someone called 'Splash.'”

“Thanks a lot, buddy. He almost splashed one of us.” Guru replied, not bothering to tell the AWACS knothead he'd been the one who'd almost become someone's scalp.

“Roger, Corvette. Do you need a vector to the tanker track?”

“Copy.”

The controller vectored the flight to the tankers, and just like the previous mission, the tanker circuit was busy. After refueling, they headed back to Williams. When they landed, the flight taxied back to their dispersal area, and just like the morning, someone was waiting for them. Only this time, it was just Licon. After Guru popped his canopy, he and Goalie shook hands, glad to be alive. If Kara hadn't been on the ball...

“How'd it go, Sir?” Licon asked as Guru and Goalie got out of the aircraft.

“Air to ground was fine,” Guru said. “Turned a battalion into a company on Highway 344.”

“FAC directed?” Licon asked as the other crews arrived.

“Yeah. Nail Three-Six was his call sign.” Guru said. “He gave us a four-point-zero.”

Nodding, Licon said, “Good, Sir. Anything else?”

“Yeah, Kara got a MiG-23 that nearly got me. Where did he come from?”

“He was hugging the mountains, saw you, and rolled in behind you,” Kara said. “He was too close, though, to try an Aphid shot,. Looked like he was trying to line you up for guns.”

“Good shooting, though,” Goalie said. “Otherwise, it was skydiving time.”

“That's two for Kara, now?” Guru asked.

“It is, Sir,” Licon said. “How many eyeballs on the kill?”

“Three pairs, not couting Kara and Brainaic,” Guru said.

Licon looked at Sweaty and Hoser, and all four crew members nodded. “And you, Sir?”

“I broke right, rolled out, and saw the missile fly up the MiG's tailpipe.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Licon said. “I'll write that up as a confirmed kill, and note the location. Maybe we can find a wreck later on.”

“Thanks, Darren,” Guru said. “Where's the CO?”

“He went out about a half-hour ago with a four-ship. Carson's with him.”

“Good. That asshole's not around, and where the boss can keep an eye on him,” Kara said.

“Seconded,” Sweaty chimed in.

Then the crews saw the ordnance people bringing five-hundred and seven hundred and fifty-pound bombs to their aircraft, along with Capt. Mark Ellis, the Ops Officer. “This one comes for the Marines. Mountainair Municipal Airport, just north of U.S. 60. The Cubans have helos based there, either Hips or Hinds.”

“Let me guess; they want them gone,” Goalie said.

“Right on that,” Ellis replied. “So we got the mission, because Marine air is busy with CAS for the jarheads.”


“Since we don't have a choice, we'll take it,” Guru said. “How long?”

“As soon as you're turned around,” Ellis said. “Sandwiches and drinks in the Hummer, hit the latrine, and get ready to go ASAP,” Ellis said. “Have a good run.” He then headed off to see the next returning flight.

Nodding, the crews went to the Hummer while the ground crew and the ordnance guys went to work. “What's the sandwiches?” Sweaty asked.

Hoser checked the box. “Chicken, Ham, Turkey, Club, and something brown that just sits there.”

Goalie checked the ice chest. “Sodas, bottled water, tea, and Gatorade.”

“Coffee in a gallon thermos,” Guru said. He helped himself to a cup. He was still full from breakfast, and didn't want to chance himself on what some called “Roadkill sandwiches” from the Marines' mess tent.

“I'd like to know,” Kara said, in between bites of a chicken sandwich, “Who wasn't on the ball with that MiG?”

“That's the sixty-four thousand-dollar question,” Goalie nodded. “He must've come up from down south.”

Sweaty nodded as well. “Want to bet his GCI got taken out, and he was just looking for a target?”

“Since he didn't bail out,” Brainac said, “we'll never know.”

Sergeant Crowley then came over. “Captain,” he said to Guru. “Your birds are ready to go.”

“Thanks, Sergeant,” Guru said. He went over to a portable latrine-of which a number had been placed on the ramp area, and did his business there. Then he gathered his flight around the Hummer, and checked the materials Ellis had left for them. “All right....we'll come in south of Manzano Peak, pick up Route 55, and come in on the target. One run only, people! North to South. Go past the town, pick up the Chupaedra Mesa again, then turn west for the Rio Grande and I-25.”

“Threat?” Kara asked.

“Says here the only defenses are guns. ZU-23s and the quad ZPUs,” Guru said. “But everybody there likely has access to SA-7s, so watch it. No flak or SAM suppressors on this one: we're it.” Guru told his flight. “Any other questions?”

“No questions,” a voice said. “Just wishing you good luck.”

Guru turned and there was Dave Golen, their IDF observer. “Dave, this all bringing back memories?”

“Yes,” Golen said. “First day of the Yom Kippur War. But with one difference.”

“What's that?” Sweaty asked as she grabbed her helmet.

“You're winning.” Golen said. He put out his hand, and everyone shook it. “I wish I could join you.”

“Talk to Rivers when he gets back,” Guru said. “We had an IDF exchange officer go home a couple months ago: he had fifty-seven missions and a couple of MiGs on his belt when he left.”

“I will,” Golen said. “Good luck.”

“Thanks, Dave,” Guru said. “Any other questions?” He asked his flight. Heads shook no. “All right, time to hit it.”

The crews went to their birds, and after a quick walkaround, they strapped themselves into their mounts. Their flight instructors would have been apoplectic at how rushed the preflight routine was, but on a day like today, no choice. They started engines, let them warm up, then they taxied to the runway, and after the tower showed them the green light, the four F-4s rolled down the runway and into the air.