[Matt Wiser]

And more:



335th TFS Offices, Sheppard AFB, TX: 29 October, 1987, 0530 Hours Central War Time:


Major Matt Wiser entered the squadron offices, and found the night duty staff still at it. They didn't get off duty until 0600, then the day shift took over. Another bunch of unsung airmen who keep us in the fight, he knew, though their numbers compared to the day shift were small. He nodded at Capt. Kerry Collins, the NDO. Collins was serving as Night Duty Officer while he got over a cold, and Doc Waters, the Flight Surgeon, was serious about anything that affected the health of the aircrews. As the CO came in, Collins jumped up and Major Wiser nodded. “Kerry, we're in a war zone, and that jumping up and down nonsense has to stop.”

“Sorry, sir. Old habits are hard to break.”

“Academy, right?” the Major asked.

“Class of '82, sir,” Collins nodded. He'd just been promoted to Captain only a month earlier.

“That explains it,” Major Wiser said. “You've heard about Major Carson?”

“Yes, sir,” Collins said. “Sir, if those stories are true-”

“They are, Captain,” the CO said. “You can take it to the bank.”

“Then, sir,” Collins said with due seriousness, “Find something and nail his ass to the wall, then nail him. Uh, sir.”

“Hopefully, we'll do just that,” Major Wiser said. “How's the cold?”

“Another four or five days, Major,” Collins spat. He gestured to some pills he had been prescribed. “Be glad to get off the pills.”

“Well, at least at night you can steal a nap. Unless there's a Scud alert, and we haven't had much of those recently.” The CO gestured to his office. “The Exec in?”

“Yes, sir. He's in your office.”

“Thanks, Kerry,” Major Wiser said. He went to his office and opened the door. “Morning, Mark.”

Captain Mark Ellis, the XO of the 335th, stood up from a chair in front of the desk.”Boss,” he nodded, then handed his CO a cup of coffee.

“Okay, what do you have for me?” Asked the CO.

The XO handed him a paper. “Aircraft status sheet. Still two birds down.”

“Ross' scroungers find anything to help in that regard?' Major Wiser asked, looking at his Exec.

“A couple of the radar parts, but not everything,” Ellis admitted. “They're still looking. But they did get us some extra hydraulic fluid and brake fluid. And an unattended Pave Spike pod.”

“A WHAT?”

“A for real Pave Spike pod, unattended with no tags identifying which unit it belonged to. So they, uh, appropriated it.” The XO said.

The CO stared at his Exec, then nodded. “All right. Anything on the other parts or the elevator for Sandi's bird?”

“They're running down leads, and as for the elevator, Ross says that he knows someone who knows someone who might have an idea where we can find one.”

Major Wiser nodded. “Okay. Just as long as there's no felony arrests, and no one gets caught or hurt,” he reminded his Exec. Then he signed the sheet. “Any word on replacement aircraft?”

The Exec handed him a message form. “Two birds due in from Japan, and we should have them by Monday.”

“Monday,” the Major made a note. “That's 2 November. From McClellan?”

“You got it. They have to install the bombing computer and the stuff like Pave Tack and Pave Spike interface, and the AGM-65 controls. The stuff that Japanese law doesn't let them install at the factory.”

Major Wiser nodded. “And anything about crews?”

“Two crews fresh from Kingsley Field.”

'Okay, that'll get us to twenty-two aircraft and thirty-two crews,” the CO commented. “Most we can expect for a while.”

“Yeah,” the Exec agreed.

“Anything personnel wise?”

'One applicant for Airman to Pilot,” the Exec handed a form to the CO. “Airman First Class Holly Lockhart. Five semesters at USC before she dropped out to join the Air Force.”

“Any problems?” Major Wiser asked.

“Yeah, She works for one Major Frank Carson,” Ellis said, and he could tell that the CO's face was turning red upon hearing that.

“Of all the...and we know Frank's price for signing the application.”

“We do, sad to say,” Ellis replied.

The CO nodded. The thought of Carson using his power to get another female airman into his bed for a night made him furious. Not to mention queasy. “Okay, I've got an idea to bypass Frank. You're the Exec, and can sign things for me if I'm not available, right?'

“That's right, Boss.”

An evil-looking grin came over the CO's face. “Here's how we'll do it. You sign for him, as he's 'unavailable.' Then bring the application to me, I'll sign it, then we pass it along and Lockhart packs her bags. You like?”

“Major, has anyone told you that you can be a sneaky bastard?” Ellis said.

“Got to be one when I was Exec,” the CO replied. “What else?”

“Morning report for MAG-11,” Ellis said, handing him the document.

The Major nodded and signed it. After he handed it back to Ellis, there was a knock on the door. “Yeah?”

A female officer in a flight suit with wavy blonde hair came in. First Lieutenant Lisa “Goalie” Eichhorn was the Major's WSO, and also his girlfriend, though since he'd become CO, they'd been more discrete, especially with General Tanner, the Tenth Air Force Commanding General, on base. She had two cups of coffee in her hands. “Morning, Major,”

“Lieutenant,” the CO nodded pleasantly, though it was an open secret in the squadron that the two were on an intimate basis with each other. “Still trying to bribe me with coffee?”

“Just trying to make sure my pilot is awake and alert, as usual,” Goalie smiled.

“Fair enough,” Major Wiser said. “Mark, everything set for Colonel Rivers' memorial service?'

“All set, Major. Everyone's supposed to be back by 1000, and the only ones who can't attend are the ordnance guys and Combat Security Police. They have to work, because-”

“I know: as soon as the service is over, people are going right to their cockpits,” the CO said. “And chances are, my flight will be among them. Who's the Chaplain?”

“Navy one from MAG-11,” Ellis said.

“Rivers was Lutheran,” the CO reminded the Exec. “Is he?”

“Couldn't get one,” Ellis said. “Episcopalian.”

The Major nodded. “That's me, but I haven't been in church in years. Okay, squadron color guard?'

“Ross is handling that.” Master Sergeant Michael Ross was the senior NCO for the 335th.

“The salute?”

“Colonel Brady offered some Marines to do that,” the XO replied. Colonel Allen Brady commanded Marine Air Group 11, to which the 335th was attached. “He said it's the least he could do.”

Major Wiser nodded. “All right. Ten hundred?”

“Starts on the dot,” Ellis said.

The CO nodded, then looked at the wall clock. “0545. Chow tent opens in fifteen minutes. Let's go eat, then we brief, then we fly.” Then he looked at his GIB. “Kara keep her promise?”

“She did. Saw her in the shower, and she was ready to go.” Goalie said.

“Fair enough,” said the Major. “Let's go.” He drained his coffee, then nodded at his WSO. “Ready?”

“Hungry enough to eat a horse, and ready to fly.”

The CO nodded. “Let's go. Oh, Mark? Next time?'

“Yeah?' the Exec replied.

“Cocoa.” Major Wiser said, then he headed on out.

“Where am I going to find cocoa on this base?” Ellis wondered aloud.

“Ask Ross,” Lieutenant Eichhorn said, then she followed the CO.

Ellis nodded, smiled, and said to himself. “Gotta keep the CO happy.” Then he made a note for Ross and the scroungers, then followed the CO to the Mess Tent.


When they got to the Officer's Mess Tent, they found most of the 335th's aircrew, along with their Marine and Navy counterparts. And the first officer Major Wiser found was Colonel Brady. “Colonel,” he said, saluting.

“Major,” Brady said, returning the salute. “Just wanted to let you know: I'll be at the service. And your Exec asked about a rifle salute? Not to worry. I'll provide seven Marines for one.”

“Thank you, sir,” Major Wiser said.

“And Major? If you need any advice? Just ask. Stepping into a dead man's shoes is something that is not taught in any service academy or officer's candidate school, regardless of branch,” Brady said.

“I will, sir,” the Major said. “And where's General Tanner?”

“He's eating with the enlisted troops this morning,”

And that was why the General was so popular. He took care of his subordinates, something that a certain officer in the 335th seemed not to understand. “We're his 'kids' you know, sir,”

“That we are, Major,” replied Brady.

Then Major Wiser saw the members of his flight gathered near the entrance. “Sir, I need to talk with my flight.”

“No problem, Major,” Brady said. “In case I don't see you before, good luck, and I'll see you at the service.”

Major Wiser nodded. “Thank you, sir, and will do.” He, Ellis, and Goalie went over to where Kara, Sweaty, Hoser, and their respective WSOs were waiting. “Kara,”

“Major,” Captain Kara “Starbuck” Thrace replied. “Had a quiet night.”

“She did,” First Lieutenant Valerie “Sweaty” Blanchard said. “Got home with us, and woke up at zero-dark-thirty, ready to get with it.”

“Any antics?” Major Wiser asked.

“Nope,' Kara replied.

The CO nodded. “I don't mind people out getting crazy, but not while the General's here.”

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

Just then, the Mess Officer came out and changed the sign from CLOSED to Open. “All ready, folks,” he said.

“All right: let's eat. Then I'll get the frag order, we'll brief, then we fly.” Major Wiser said.

After breakfast, his flight headed for the old classroom they used as a briefing room, while the CO went and got the FRAGO from Capt. Don Van Loan, the Ops Officer for the 335th. He then went to the briefing room, and found his flight members waiting. “People,” he said.

“What have we got, Guru?” Sweaty asked. Guru was the CO's call sign.

Guru opened the packet and a scowl went over his face. “Great. On-call CAS. Northeast sector, along I-30.”

“We could be in a holding pattern for a while,” Kara pointed out.

First Lieutenant Nathan “Hoser” West, Sweaty's wingmate, nodded. 'That we can, Boss.

“I know,” Guru said. “Let's see...antiarmor loadout, with twelve Rockeye CBUs each airplane. Full load 20-mm, four AIM-9s and two AIM-7s, two wing tanks and ECM pod to go along with that.”

“What if they don't give us a target? First Lieutenant Bryan “Preacher” Simmonds, Sweaty's GIB, asked.

“I'll ask Van Loan for any good secondary targets,” Guru replied. “If he can't give us any? We'll find some opportunity targets. Because we don't get paid for bringing ordnance home.”

First Lieutenant Kathy “KT” Thornton, who was Hoser's GIB, asked, “Bailout areas still the same as yesterday? “

“They are, and before you ask, no change in the weather, and no change for two days. There's a storm coming into California tomorrow, and we'll feel it in two days. So we make the most of good weather.”

Kara nodded, then asked, “Threats?”

“Anything from Regimental level on up,” the CO replied. “And the same MiG fields as yesterday as well.” He regarded his flight members. “Anything else?” Heads shook no. “Okay, gear up, and I'll see you at 512.”

The flight members nodded, then everyone headed to the locker rooms to gear up. On the way out, Guru stopped by the Ops office and found Don Van Loan. “Major?” Van Loan asked.

“Don, we drew on-call CAS, and we need secondary targets in case we don't get tasking.” Guru said.

“Got that truck park east of Rockwall on Route 276,” Van Loan said. “The one you could've hit, but found that SA-6 site instead.”

“Anything else?”

“Suspected divisional HQ north of the junction of F.M. 548 and F.M. 233, north of Forney,” Van Loan pointed to the suspected target on the map. “And there's a vehicle maintenance and repair area at Roue 205 and F.M 548, near Chisolm.”

“And if we find something else, it's fair game.”

“You got it, Boss.”

“Okay,” Guru said. “Have a good one, and I'll see you when we get back, or at the service, whichever's first.”

“You too,” Van Loan said, shaking the CO's hand.

Major Wiser went out of the office and as he did, Major Frank Carson, the nemesis to him and everyone else in the squadron and MAG-11, came in. “Frank,”

“Major....” Carson said, and the CO could tell it was a sneer.

“I'll say this once: you say one bad thing about Rivers, and you'd better pray I'm the only one who heard it. Because if the General does...”

“Is that all?” Carson sneered.

“No. Airman Holly Lockhart is going to Airman to Pilot. Whether you like it or not,” Guru said, then he headed over to his plane's dispersal, leaving a confused Major Carson in his wake. When he got to 512, his flight was waiting. “Guys,

“What'd Carson want to know?” Sweaty asked.

“He won't be forcing an airman into bed who wants to go to Airman to Pilot, let's put it that way,” Gurus said. “Okay, Van Loan found us some secondary targets. If we don't get a tasking by 0900, we're going for one. If we can't ID a secondary? Free strike. There's enough in that AO to hit.”

“There should be,” Goalie said. “That's 1st Guards Army, according to the intel sheet.”

“Yeah,” Guru said. “Same drill as before: Call signs between us on the radio, mission code to anyone else. Got it?”

“Got it,” Sweaty said, and heads nodded.

“Okay, anything else?” There wasn't . “Let's hit it.” Guru said.

The crews went to man their aircraft, and both Guru and Goalie went to 512, and Staff Sergeant Michael Crowley, the crew chief, was waiting. “Major,” he said, saluting.

“Sergeant,” Guru said. “512 ready?”

“She's ready to rock, sir,” Crowley said.

Nodding, both Guru and Goalie went through their walk-around, then they mounted the aircraft. After strapping in, they wen through the preflight, then Sergeant Crowley gave the “start engines” signal. First, one, then two, J-79 engines were up and running, then Guru called the tower for taxi and takeoff. He was cleared to taxi, and as he did, Kara, Sweaty, and Hoser taxied behind him. They held at the end of the runway so the armorers could pull the weapon safeties, then Guru's element was cleared to taxi for takeoff. Guru taxied onto the runway, and Kara was tucked in echelon right. Then he called the tower. “Tower, Corvette One-one requesting takeoff clearance.”

The tower flashed a green light in response. Then both pilots released their brakes, and both F-4s rolled down the runway and into the air, with Sweaty and Hoser right behind them.