[Matt Wiser]

Next mission coming up:


335th TFS, Sheppard AFB, TX; 1125 Hours Central War Time:


Heads looked at Major Wiser as his words sunk in. The first man to go Mach 1 was coming to their corner of the war, and people were buzzing. “Settle down, people. Not just him coming.”

“What else?” Kara asked. To her, the F-20 seemed like a toy compared to the F-4, or the F-15E, which she-and almost everyone else in the squadron-hoped to transition to.

“He's bringing three single-seat C models and a D model two-seater. Three other pilots, plus a C-130 with some ground staff. You know, maintenance folks and the like, and some tech-reps from Northrop, GE, and Hughes.”

Sweaty looked at her CO. “Northrop and GE, I can understand-they make the airplane and the engine, but Hughes?”

“Radar,” Guru replied.

“Well,” Capt. Mark Ellis, the Exec, said. “What if they're doing a demo flight and one of Ivan's recon birds comes over?”

The CO turned to the Exec. “Then we see how good these birds are in combat.”


People were still milling about, fifteen minutes after the EOD team had gone in. They were just talking, though some were playing with Buddy, the squadron's mascot. He was a Golden Lab that had been adopted by the squadron while they were at Cannon. From what Guru remembered, several aircrew had gone over to the MASH near the base and while there, a nurse had asked them if they wanted a puppy. The hospital had adopted a mother dog and one of her pups, but needed a home for the other. The guys had immediately adopted the dog, and brought the pup to Guru, who as Exec, had to give his blessing. He had agreed at once, and then brought the pup to Colonel Rivers, who also agreed, feeling that having a mascot was good for squadron morale. Of course, Frank had objected, only to have Rivers give him another dressing-down. There were plenty of times when aircrew had come back from a hairy mission, and Buddy had jumped into their laps, and spirits rose as a result. Chief Ross was in charge of caring for the dog, and it was said in the squadron that if the dog sat in on a mission brief and slept through it, you would have a good mission. If, though, he paid attention, you would have a bad day.

“When's the last time he paid attention with us?” Goalie asked, coming up to Guru.

“Don't remember, but you might want to ask Revlon. He was with her and Razor before they went out.....”

Goalie nodded, recalling the last squadron combat loss. Capt. Paul “Razor” Gillette had been shot down on a CAS mission three days earlier, and had not gotten out of his dying bird. “Yeah. Well, even General Olds likes having a dog around.” She pointed to where the General was enjoying the dog's company.

Then the door opened to the squadron office, and the EOD techs, with their working dog, came out. One of the techs noticed Major Wiser, and came on over. “Major Wiser?”

“That's right,” Guru replied.

“Tech Sergeant Dunlap, Sir,” the tech replied. “You're clear.”

Guru breathed a sigh of relief. “Good to know, Sarge. You guys find anything?”

“No, sir. FYI, though, this is the fifth building we've checked this morning, and the first where we didn't find anything.”

“All right, Sergeant. Thanks.” Guru said gratefully. He put out his hand, and the EOD tech shook it.

“Just doin' our job, sir.”

“All right, people! Building's clear. Let's get back in the game,” Guru said.

People headed back in and got back to work. Guru's flight got out of their flight gear, and they went into their briefing room. A few minutes later, Sin Licon, their intelligence officer, came in. “Boss.”

“Sin,” the CO said. “You taking us first?”

“No, sir,” the Intel replied. “Got some debriefs done outside.” He unfolded a map and also had the prestrike photos. “Can we get going?”

The debrief was pretty straightforward, with crews showing their strike routes, and describing the damage believed inflicted.

“Well, sir,” the Intel said. “Looks like you got four MiG-29s on the ground. Too bad, though. Ground kills don't count.”

Kara and Sweaty looked at each other, then the Intel. “Whose bright idea was that?” Kara asked angrily.

“Don't blame me,” Licon protested. “I just pass on what they tell me. But they really haven't counted ground kills since WW II.”

“Steady,” Guru reminded the pair. “I'm just as upset at that as you are.” The CO was calm, but he was also upset at that rule. Still, taking out four MiG-29s on the ground.....”A lot easier to kill them on the ground than in the air.”

“They are that,” Dave Golen agreed. He was too young to have flown combat in June of 1967, but had flown with colleagues who had. Operation FOCUS was what every air force the world over dreamed of repeating.

“Okay, Darren,” the CO said. “How long to get this field back up and running?”

The Intel thought for a minute. “Sir, best guess only.”

“Do that.”

“Okay, sir. Best guess is, without the mines Major Golen dropped? Twenty-four to thirty-six hours. With the mines? Forty-eight hours at least.”

Major Wiser nodded. “Anything else?”

“No, sir. I'll have the strike film developed and get this off to Tenth Air Force. Thanks, Major.” The intel gathered up his materials and went to debrief the next flight.

“Now what?” KT asked.

“Get some lunch, check your desks and make sure your squadron paperwork's out of the way, because-” The CO checked his watch. 1145. “Chances are, by 1300, we do it again.”

“You heard him,” Kara said, and people headed on out.

Goalie turned to Guru and asked, “Lunch?”

“Yeah,” the CO nodded .”Get anything they're offering, other than the suggestion-of-pork tri-tip. Anyone who eats that is either foolhardy, stupid, or committing gastronomic suicide.”

“That bad?” Kara asked. “And I thought the Marines' BLTs were nasty.”

Guru took a look at his wingmate. “Take my advice, and don't even try. Feeding those to EPWs probably constitutes a war crime.”

“And we're supposed to be the good guys,” Kara grinned.

“That we are,” the CO said. He turned to Goalie “Check your own IN box before you go. The elves never take care of it.”

“Will do, and I'll be back with lunch. Something edible, I promise,” Goalie said.

The CO nodded, then headed for his own office. He nodded to his staff sergeant secretary, then went in. Checking the IN Box, he found a couple of things that required his attention, but a couple that the XO could handle instead. Guru went back to the Exec's desk, and found the XO on the phone. “Mark,”

Ellis talked into the phone, hung up, then turned to the CO. “Boss?”

Guru handed him the papers. “You can take care of these. Just sign 'For the Commanding Officer', and that'll be that.”

“Thanks a bunch.”

“Well, when you're a CO, you can make your Execs' life miserable,” Guru smiled. He thought for a moment. “You know, we're both missing out on PME.”

Ellis nodded. “You got it. We both should be in Squadron Officer School. Instead....the School of Hard Knocks, Class of 1987.”

“You, me, and a whole bunch of other guys,” Guru nodded. “Remember, though, what General Tanner said. That institution turned out a whole bunch of good squadron and group commanders in World War II. It's our turn now.”

“It is that,” the XO agreed. Then he handed Guru a paper. “That came in a couple of minutes ago.”

Guru looked at the paper. It was a fax from Tenth Air Force HQ. Then he scowled. “Yeager's bringing another C-130?”

“He is,” Ellis said. “Filled with spare parts, probably some additional maintenance people. Hell, maybe another F404 engine for all I know.”

Guru stared at his Exec. “We got billeting for these people?”

“Just.”

The CO sighed. “What is it about this base that suddenly attracts Air Force legends? Next thing we know, Robbie Risner or Gabby Gabreski will show up.”

“You got me, Boss,” the Exec said.

“All right,” the CO nodded. “That it?”

“For now,” Ellis nodded. “Lunchtime,” he said, getting up from his desk.

“Okay, but a word of advice: the Pork Tri-tip? Don't.”

“That bad?”

“Call it cruel and unusual nourishment,” Guru replied, heading back to his office.

When he got there, he found Goalie waiting with lunch and two bottles of water. “Beware of GIBs bearing gifts.”

“Isn't the saying 'Beware Romulans bearing gifts?” The CO asked.

“You a Trekkie?”

“No, but I've seen a few episodes. What's in the bag?”

“Hot turkey sandwiches with mashed potatoes and gravy,” Goalie said. “And two bottles of water.”

They ate, and when they were finished, Guru told her, “We're getting another C-130 when Yeager shows.”

“What?” She asked, not sure if she'd heard right. “We have room for everybody?”

“Mark says just,” the CO said.

Goalie shook her head. “Well, that's that.”

“Just hope these tech-reps are ex-military for the most part,” the CO added. “They'd be used to tents. Because this ain't a Holiday Inn.”

“If we were back at Williams.....we all got used to bunking at the Sheraton,” Goalie said. “We got spoiled rotten.”

“That we did,” Guru acknowledged. “Though five months of a parachute turned tent was no fun,” he said, recalling his time with the Resistance.

Goalie shook her head. “No. You don't want to repeat it, and I sure as hell don't want to find out for myself.”

“Right you are. IF I ever go camping again, it'll be in an RV with all the bells and whistles. That's my idea of 'roughing it', as of when I came out.” There was a knock on the door, and Guru said, “Yeah? Come on in and show yourself.”

The door opened, and General Olds came in. “Major, Lieutenant,” he nodded as both Guru and Goalie came to attention.

“Sir,” Guru said very politely. “What can we do for you?”

“Just came by to let you know that I'll be staying until General Yeager leaves. I'd like to see a combat demo of the F-20 for myself. And, if Bob Tanner will let me, see if I can get a backseat ride in not only one of your F-4s, but Yeager's two-seater as well.”

Both Guru and Goalie exchanged looks, then Guru gulped. “Yes, sir. But you will have to be cleared by my Flight Surgeon. Just so you are aware of that, sir.”

“I know, Major. I'll have to wait until General Tanner gives the OK,” Olds said. He looked around. “Major, may I ask you something?”

Guru nodded. “Ask away, sir.”

“When are you getting rid of that snobby Major who comes across as a martinet and general, all around, pain in the ass?”

“General, I'd be lying if I said I could kick him out today. But I can't. The two of us here have a history with the man, and, well, sir, he can go to JAG and claim retaliation,” Major Wiser said.

Olds nodded. “Bob Tanner told me. This guy would fit right in with SAC, or as a supply officer, I must say. But we still need warm bodies. The training pipeline's just now starting to turn out the people we need. We've just been keeping pace with losses. But now, though.....”

Both CO and GIB nodded. 'Yes, sir. He does look good on paper, but when you read the details.....” Guru said. “He'll be out by New Year's, General. One way or another.”

“Especially if General Cunningham shows up, sir,” Goalie added.

Olds let out a laugh, and said, “Especially then. Major? I've seen how you're running this squadron, both on the ground and in the air. Take my advice: don't change a damned thing.”

“Yes, sir! And General, that's one order I'm glad to obey,” Major Wiser said.

“Good. And Lieutenant?” Olds turned to Goalie.

“Sir?” She said after taking a gulp.

“You take care of him in the air. I have a feeling both of you are going far in the Air Force when this war's over. You two are the kind who don't care about getting stars,. What both of you care about is flying. And you're the type who wants to fly as long as the flight surgeons will let you,” Olds said.

“Sir, the day the Flight Surgeon tells me I can't fly any more is the day I put in for retirement,” Goalie said.

“Same here, General,” Guru added.

Olds nodded. “I thought so. Okay, then. I'll see you at dinner, and I'll share your table. We've got some stories to swap. No doubt you'd like to hear about Operation BOLO first hand,”

“Yes,sir!” Guru said.

“I've got a few others, then I'd like to hear yours. First MiG-29 kills by an F-4 element in Tenth Air Force, Major. You and Lieutenant Blanchard. Bouncing a MiG-25 on takeoff, and getting a gun kill on a MiG-23.”

“Well, sir,” you'll hear those first hand.”

“Be glad to, Major. You guys be careful out there, and I'll see you tonight,” Olds said.

“Yes, sir,” Guru said.

Olds nodded, then left the office, and both CO and GIB breathed a huge sigh of relief.

“'Don't change a damn thing,' he said,” Goalie told her pilot and CO.

“Just what General Tanner told me. Not once, but twice. The first time was when he called, an hour after I got the squadron,” said Guru. “He said it again when he was here for Rivers' memorial service.”

Goalie nodded. “That he did.”

“He did,” Guru said. He looked at the wall clock. “1240. Let's go see Don. Time for a mission.”

“Once more unto the breach, dear friends,” Goalie replied.

“Yep. Just leave out that 'close up the walls with our dead,' crap.”


CO and GIB left the office, and went to the Ops Desk, where Capt. Don Van Loan, the Ops Officer, was waiting. “Just about to send Kara after you,” he said.

“Can't have that,” Guru replied. “What's on tap for us?”

Van Loan pulled out a newly-prepared briefing packet. “Hillsboro Municipal. North of town on I-35W.”

Guru took a look at the small map showing where the field was. “Right in the Cuban rear area,” he noted.

“And the 4th Guards Tank Army's down at Waco,” Goalie nodded, recalling previous missions flown in that vicinity.”

Van Loan nodded himself. “Worse. There's a division from 4th Guards based at Waco. They're SA-8 equipped.”

“Throw in Army-level SA-4s from both the Cubans and Russians, the flak around the airport, MANPADS, and oh, the Hillsboro SA-2,” Guru spat. “Tell me we're getting Weasels?”

“You are,” Van Loan said. “Coors One-three and One-four will meet you at the tankers.”

“Good,” Major Wiser said. He noted Van Loan's deputy. “Kara?”

“Boss?” His wingmate replied.

“Get everybody together. Briefing room in five,” the CO said.

Kara nodded, “On my way,” and she was out the door.

“Okay, Boss,” Van Loan said. “You have a good one.”

“You too,” Guru replied. “Dave and Flossy?”

“They've got one, and it's not as bad as yours,” the Ops Officer said.

“Good to know,” the CO said. He turned to Goalie. “Let's go.”


Guru and Goalie went to their flight's briefing room, and found everyone there. “What's up, Boss?” Sweaty asked.

“Hillsboro Municipal is what's up,” Guru replied. “We get to shut it down for a while.”

“That's where, the Cuban rear area?” KT asked.

'It is,” Guru said. “And a division from 4th Guards Tank Army is based at Hillsboro proper. So expect both Soviet and Cuban SA-4s. There's the light and medium flak around the airport, plus MANPADS, and the Hillsboro SA-2, and be glad we're getting Weasels. They join up with us at the tankers.”

“Ordnance load?” Kara wanted to know.

“You and I have Rockeyes,” Guru told his wingmate. He showed a current photo and a prewar one-where the intel folks found that, he had no idea. “I'll take this new ramp area, along the northeast side of the runway. You take this other new one, north of the prewar hangars.”

Kara nodded. “Got it.”

“Who's flying out of here?” Hoser asked.

“It's an FOL, so it could be empty at the moment, or there could be a Frogfoot and Hind convention,” Guru pointed out.

“A crap-shoot,” Goalie observed.

“It is,” the CO admitted. “Okay, Sweaty?” He saw he had his second element lead's close attention. “You and Hoser each have the Mark-82 and M-117 Snakeye combination. Get the runway.”

“With pleasure,” Sweaty said, and Preacher nodded. “We'll take it out.”

“Good,” Guru said. “Hoser?” The CO pointed to a spot on the photo. “You get the fuel dump here. Southeast of the runway threshold.”

Hoser looked at the photo, and nodded. “Got it,” he said, and KT nodded also.

“Okay. We all have the usual air-to-air load, plus ECM and tanks,” the CO said. “MiG threat is still the same, though we will be closer to the old Connelly AFB at Waco. That means MiG-21s and -23s. There's still MiG-23s and Su-27s at Bergstrom, and MiG-29s at Gray AAF. Still, NO trolling for MiGs, people! We engage only if there's no choice, AWACS tells us to, or we jump a recon or strike flight on our side of the line. Got it?”

Heads nodded, then Kara said, “Loud and clear, Major.” When she-or anyone else-used the CO's rank, he knew that they meant business, and understood what he wanted.

“That's good, Captain,” Guru replied, and in using her rank, that feeling was reciprocated, and they knew it. “Bailout areas are basically, anyplace rural and away from roads. Best place is north of the I-20, but if you have to get out? Hole up somewhere and wait for Jolly Green to get you at night. Most of the locals will help, but even those that don't want to will direct you to someone who will.”

Kara nodded, then asked, “Weather?”

“Still unchanged,” Guru said. “Anything else?”

“Yeah,” replied Sweaty. “How many more?”

Guru smiled. “Sweaty, knock on wood. One more.”

“We hope,” Goalie added.

“Amen,” Preacher added.

“Amen,” Guru said. “All right, anything else?” He looked around and saw people shaking their heads. “Good. Let's gear up. Time to get back to work.”


The flight crews went to their respective locker rooms and got into their flight gear-meaning G-suits, harnesses, and survival vests. When Guru came out of the Men's Locker Room, he found Goalie waiting for him, as usual. “Ready?”

“Ready to rock,” she replied. “Time to get things done.”

Guru nodded, then they went outside. There, one wouldn't know it had rained the night before. There was hardly a cloud in the sky, and it was bright and sunny. “Just thinking of something,” he said out loud.

“What?”

“Wouldn't be surprised if Ivan tried another strike here,” Guru said. “Been a few days.”

“Don't say it,” Goalie said. “But you're right.”

Guru nodded, then they went on to their dispersal area. As they did, both noticed four F-4s from the squadron taxiing out. “Mark's on the way,” he noted, and Goalie nodded.

They got to 512, and found their flight waiting for his final instructions. “Boss,” Kara said. “The usual?”

“It is. Mission code to AWACS and other parties. Call signs between us. And remember: NO trolling for MiGs.”

“Gotcha, Boss,” Sweaty replied.

The CO nodded. “Anything else?”

“Yeah,” KT said. “Another day, another dollar of flight pay.”

“Of which forty-five cents goes back to the government,” Brainiac said.

“It does,” Guru replied, and everyone laughed. “That all? He asked, and heads nodded. “Okay, time to go. Let's hit it.”

The crews broke up and headed to their aircraft, but before Guru and Goalie went to 512, Dave Golen and Flossy, with their GIBs, came by. “Guru,” Golen said. “Where are you headed?”

“Down near Hillsboro,” Guru replied. “You?”

“Near Cleburne,” Golen said. “You're still Camaro Flight?”

Guru nodded. “And you're still Mustang?” He saw Golen nod in reply, then added, “If you guys hit trouble, holler. We'll be there.”

“Same to you,” Golen said. “Good luck.”

“You too,” and both shook hands. Then the two flight leaders went to their aircraft. Goalie was waiting, along with Sergeant Crowley, the CC, who snapped off a salute. “Sergeant,” Guru said.

“Major,” Crowley replied. “Got 512 all ready for you, sir.”

Guru nodded, then he and Goalie did their preflight walk-around. Then both climbed the crew ladder and mounted the aircraft. They strapped in, put their helmets on, then went through the preflight. As they did, Goalie asked, “You waiting to hear some of General Olds' stories?”

“You betcha. Combat in two wars, Kills against the Luftwaffe and the North Vietnamese? Nobody else has that kind of record,” Guru said.

“And he wants to hear some of ours,” Goalie reminded him. “You going to tell the R&R story?”

“Only if he asks,” Guru said firmly. “But that's gone around the Air Force.”

“It has,” Goalie replied. “Ejection seats?”

“Armed top and bottom,” Guru said. “Check yours. And it sure has.”

“That it has,” said Goalie. “Preflight checklist complete.”

“It is,” Guru acknowledged. He gave a thumbs-up to Sergeant Crowley, who gave the “Start Engines” signal. In quick succession, one, then two, J-79 engines were up and running, and during the warm-up, Guru called the Tower. “Tower, Camaro Flight with four, requesting taxi and takeoff instructions.”

“Camaro Lead, Tower. Clear to taxi to Runway Three-three Lima. You are number four in line. Hold prior to the active.”

“Roger, Tower. Camaro Lead rolling.” Guru replied. He gave another thumbs-up to his CC, who motioned the ground crew to pull the chocks and get out of the way. That done, Crowley gave the “taxi” signal, and Guru taxied 512 out of its revetment. As he cleared the revetment, Sergeant Crowley snapped a perfect salute, and both pilot and GIB returned it.

Guru taxied to the runway, and waited in line as two Marine F-4 flights were ahead of him, then a flight of F/A-18s, and once they were away, it was his turn. He taxied up to the Holding Area, where the armorers removed the weapon safeties.

“Tower, Camaro Lead requesting taxi for takeoff,” Guru called.

“Camaro Lead, Tower. Clear to taxi for takeoff,” the controller replied. “Winds are two-six-nine at five.”

“Roger, Tower,” replied Guru. He taxied 512 onto the runway, and held as Kara taxied 520 into his Five O'clock. Guru and Goalie glanced over at 520, and both Kara and Brainiac gave the thumbs-up. They returned it, then Guru called the tower again. “Tower, Camaro Lead requesting clear for takeoff.”

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

“Ready?” Guru asked Goalie.

“All set here,” she replied. “Let's do it.”

“Copy that. Canopy coming down.” Guru closed his canopy, and Goalie did the same. He glanced over at 520, and saw Kara and Brainiac had done the same. Then he ran the engines up to full power, released the brakes, and 512 rolled down the runway and into the air, with 520 right with them. Thirty seconds later, it was Sweaty's and Hoser's turn. Once airborne, they formed up and headed for the tanker track to the south.