[Matt Wiser]

Part II:


Sheppard AFB, Texas; 1215 Hours Central War Time:


Near the transient ramp, a number of aircrews were gathering as the four F-20s broke into their landing pattern. There was a mix of Air Force from the 335th, Marines from MAG-11, and even a few Navy from VA-135, an attack squadron flying A-7As reactivated from AMARC, and all were watching as the F-20s came in and landed, followed by the two support C-130Es. The new arrivals taxied up to the transient ramp, and Marine ground crew were waiting. After shutting down, the canopies on the new popped open, and the pilots climbed down. One of them was much older than the two young men and one woman, and everyone knew who that was. Yeager.

As people went over to have a look, Major Wiser surveyed the three single-seat Tigersharks and the lone two-seater. All had kill markings on the side, though it was easy to tell General Yeager's bird: all of his were WW II-era German crosses. As the welcoming party assembled, a Hummer pulled up, and out came another AF officer. Colonel Richard Purcell was the base commander, running the Provisional Air Base Group tasked with running the day-to-day functions of the base, getting more of the prewar infrastructure up and running, and generally staying out of the hair of those who were doing the actual flying. But protocol demanded he show up. As he spoke with General Yeager for a few moments, Major Wiser noticed one thing about Colonel Purcell: he was what the Air Force called “an unrated weenie.” Someone who was not a rated pilot, navigator, officer aircrew, missileer, or even having jump wings. Though he had several of those in his squadron, like Sin Licon, his intelligence officer, or Kev O'Donnell, his maintenance officer, and they were not only valued subordinates, but also good friends, Colonel Purcell came across as an asshole who resented the fact that he had never been able to earn wings. Fortunately for all of the squadron commanders, Colonel Purcell reported to Tenth Air Force, and the Air Base Group was not in the chain of command for the flying units, and that meant that they dealt with him only when necessary, and Colonel Allen Brady, the CO of MAG-11, did most of the dealing.

After Colonel Purcell paid his respects, General Yeager came over to those who he had come to see and show off the F-20. And he wasn't surprised to see a familiar face among those waiting for him. “Robin Olds, as I live and breathe,” Yeager said, sketching a salute and shaking General Olds' hand.

“Been a while, Chuck,” Olds said. “They reactivated you, just as they did me.”

“But I didn't get another star,” Yeager grinned. “I'll take running the F-20 program over a second star any day.”

“No doubt,” Olds said.

“General,” Colonel Brady said. “Welcome to Sheppard.”

“Glad to be here, Colonel,” Yeager nodded. He surveyed the aircrews who had come to see the F-20. “They're young,” he noted.

“They always are, General,” said Brady. He remembered his own CO back in Vietnam saying the same thing. “Here's the senior AF flight officer here, Major Matt Wiser. He runs the 335th TFS.”

“Major,” Yeager said.

“General,” Major Wiser said. “Welcome to Sheppard. It's an honor and a privilege.”

“Pleased to be here, Major,” Yeager said, shaking Guru's hand. “General Tanner's told me some things about your squadron. All of them good, by the way.”

“Thank you, sir.” Guru replied.

After General Yeager met the other squadron commanders, people began having a look at the aircraft.

“General, with all due respect, this just looks like a souped-up F-5,” Guru said. “They're not bad, sir. But I'm a Phantom Phanatic, born and raised.”

“Double-ugly rears its head, I see. You playing air-to-ground, or have you done some in the air-to-air arena?” Yeager asked. He took a look at the 335th's CO. His own CO in World War II had been even younger.

“Eight kills, sir, plus four probables,” Guru replied. “My GIB, Lieutenant Eichhorn-” he pointed to Goalie, who was talking with the only female pilot Yeager had brought with him-has five. I see you still have your World War II score displayed.”

General Yeager nodded. “Got that 'no combat' order, but you never know. Wherever we fly? We're always armed. Two Sidewinders and two Sparrows, each airplane.”

Guru nodded himself. “You never know when you'll run into a recon element, a strike flight, or MiGs doing a fighter sweep.”

“You're right. By the way, Your old GIB is still at Kingsley Field, I hear.”

“Tony Carpenter? Haven't heard from him in a while. What's he up to, sir?”

“His instructor tour's almost up, then he's headed to the 3rd TFS at Clark. Somebody's got to watch Cam Ranh Bay, and so...”

'”General, I can think of worse places to be in a war.”

Yeager grinned. “There is that.”

When they got to the single-seaters, Guru remarked, “You have some aces, sir, if you don't mind my saying.”

“They made it because they were naturals behind the stick, but the 474th got rushed into combat just in time for Wichita. Not much time for workups or anything like that in peacetime. This squadron had eighteen planes and pilots when Wichita got going. By June? They were down to ten aircraft and thirteen pilots. One of the replacements? She's flying the two-seater. Captain Morgandorffer had four in the A-7, mostly helos, but a MiG-29 jumped her at Wichita and overshot. She took the Sidewinder shot....”

“And splashed him. Did you recruit her for the program, sir?” Guru asked.

“No, she volunteered. Though something's bothering her, and I can't put a finger on it, Major. She doesn't have a problem splashing Russians, but when it's Cuban? She turns into a fighting tigress.”

“General, this may be none of my business, but has anyone asked her?”

“No, but somebody ought to. Before she makes that one mistake....” Yeager's West Virginia twang made that perfectly clear as it trailed off. One's first mistake in combat was often the last.


While Yeager and the CO were talking, other aircrews were going over the aircraft. Kara, Flossy, Sweaty, Cosmo, and several other crews in either Air Force or Navy flight suits were talking with the object of General Yeager's and Major Wiser's conversation.

When Captain Morgandorffer told those listening the F-20 could carry up to 7,000 pounds of ordnance on its wing and fuselage stations, in addition to two Sidewinders on the wingtips, Flossy was incredulous. “That's all you can carry?”

Sweaty Blanchard, who led the second element in the CO's flight, was even more direct. “Piece of junk,” she muttered, and several Marines-both F-4 and Hornet drivers, nodded agreement.

Two of the GIBs in the CO's flight were even more direct in their assessment. Brainiac, who was Kara's WSO, turned to Preacher, who did the same for Sweaty, and said, “Wartime expedient.”

“No arguing that. They build those things, and keep them after the war? We're out of a job,” the ex-seminary student replied.

“There's the F-15E coming, so we're safe.”

Mark Ellis, the Exec, was talking with Capt. Jeb Pruitt, one of the two primary demo pilots. “These look good, but chances are, they're headed for the Guard and Reserve after the war. If we don't sell them off on the open market.”

“Maybe,” Pruitt replied. “Let's wait and get to the 'after the war' first. By the way, who do I see about doing some horse-trading?”

“That would be Master Sergeant Ross,” the XO told him. “He's not just our senior NCO, but the, uh, 'scroungers' report to him.”

Pruitt nodded. “Okay. Maybe we can talk deal.”

Ellis regarded the young captain. He did look awful young for his age, but he reminded himself that the Air Force had rolled back the educational requirement for pilots and navigators to two years of college. Then there were people who held their age pretty well, and Pruitt could be one. “Your call,” he said as some Marine mess people brought sandwiches and drinks for the new arrivals. “Hope you don't mind a piece of advice.”

“Yeah?”

“Stay away from the pork tri-tip, or the suggestion thereof,” Ellis said.

Pruitt looked at him, then grabbed two of the suspect sandwiches and a bottle of Pepsi. “Love these,” he said, and the XO shook his head.

“You've got a cast-iron stomach.”


Meanwhile, Guru was taking a look at the cockpit of General Yeager's bird. He looked at the two multifunction displays and the HUD, noting that the familiar dials and gauges in the F-4 were merely backups. The CO turned to General Yeager. “Sir, where's the slot for the quarter?”

Hearing that, Yeager let out a laugh. “Major, you're not the first person to say that. Nor will you be the last.”

“General, if you don't mind my saying, because this is your baby, but I can see some issues right off the bat,” Major Wiser said as he stood to get out of the cockpit.

“Go ahead, Major.”

“Sir, first of all: ordnance capacity. We can carry more ordnance overall, and more types. Second? Range is less than the F-4, F-15, or F-16. Third? Single engine. Lose the engine and you go skydiving.”

“Noted, Major, and again, you're not the first to raise those issues. The ex-IIAF boys up in Amarillo were just as vocal. Though guys who were F-5 vets back in the old country are looking forward to a transition,” Yeager said.

A couple of minutes later, Kara came over to where General Olds, Colonel Brady, and Guru were talking. “Well, Captain?” Guru asked. “What's your take on these?”

“If I get through this war, and these things show up at Nellis as aggressors? I'm going to clean up,” Kara said. “I'll love going up against these things.” And the tone of her voice showed one thing to the three senior officers. Overconfidence.

“Be careful, Captain,” General Olds reminded her. “These birds have potential, and they can bite you.”

“General, I'll go along with that,” Brady said. “These puppies remind me of the F-8. A small, nimble, and deadly dogfighter.” For a moment, Brady recalled the LTV F-8, which had the best kill-loss rate of any tactical fighter in Southeast Asia. Eighteen North Vietnamese MiGs-including four MiG-21s, for only three losses in air-to-air combat. The Navy had reactivated some for use on the Essex-class carriers, but other than that....

Guru nodded. “Don't count your chickens until they're hatched, Kara. Keep that in mind.”

“Always,” Kara replied.

“Good,” the CO said. He went over to find Goalie and the other WSOs, and,to his surprise, found the last person he expected. Major Frank Carson was the most despised and loathed officer in the squadron, and yet, he and his element were going over one of the single-seat F-20s. He made his way in that direction to rescue the others, but stopped when he heard the loathed Major talking like a mentor instead of a martinet.

“....not meant to be fighter-bombers like our F-4s. They're small, nimble, and nasty little dogfighters, And with Sparrow, they have a long reach. If used properly, they can be formidable,” Carson was saying. And the CO was wondering if he was hearing right.

“They look like F-5s,” Lieutenant Melissa Brewster, who was Capt. Sean Hennings' GIB, said.

“They are, but don't let that fool you. I had a classmate in the Aggressors pre-war, and he made his share of F-15 and F-16 jockeys look stupid,” said Carson. “They've got a better radar than the F-5, the APG-67, similar to the F-16's radar, and it's good. You'll face these things as aggressors at Red Flag when the war's over, and I'll bet money on it.”

Guru heard that, and slipped away before Carson noticed him. Was Frank turning over a new leaf? Or did the skunk have an ulterior motive, like asking to transfer to the F-20 program? He doubted the former, but the latter? He had a nagging suspicion that was Frank's real motive. If Carson couldn't get the 335th, but a newly formed F-20 squadron? Guru decided to raise the issue with both General Olds and General Yeager that night. As he walked back, he nearly ran into Goalie. “Well? What's your take?”

“Glad these aren't replacing the F-4, because I'd be out of a job, along with every other GIB,” Goalie replied. “The F-15E, now......”
“Down, girl,” the CO said. “Those puppies are at least a year away, maybe two.”

She looked at him. “Still, that's what we're shooting for.”

“It is.” Then Capt. Don Van Loan, the Squadron's Ops Officer, came over. “Don, you missed all the fun.”

“Too bad, but I'm looking for Sin Licon. Got a mission to debrief,” said the Ops Officer. “Oh, this is for you,” Van Loan added, handing the CO a briefing packet.

“Figures,” Guru said. “Okay, Don. Thanks.” The CO then went over to where Colonel Brady was, talking with General Olds. Both were watching as General Yeager was being interviewed by Jana Wendt and the crew from 9 News Australia. “Colonel, I hate to be a party pooper, but I've got a mission coming up.”

“You, me, and everybody else,” Brady said. “Okay, people!” He said, addressing the crowd. “Time to get back in the game, because the war didn't take a break because we did.”

Hearing that, the crowd began to break up, and Guru waved Kara over. “Kara, get our flight together. Five minutes.” He handed her the briefing packet.

“Gotcha, Boss,” replied Kara. “I'm gone.”

Guru nodded, motioned both the XO and Chief Ross to follow him, then went to General Yeager, who had finished his brief turn for the cameras. “General,” Guru nodded.

“I heard,” Yeager said. “You've got a mission.”

“Yes, sir,” the CO replied. “Captain Ellis will escort you and your officers to Officer Country, show you around, that sort of thing. Chief Ross will do the same for your enlisted folks.”

“Thanks, Major,” Yeager said. “We'll stay out of your hair best we can.”

“Thank you, sir,” Guru replied.

“And Major?”

“Sir?” Guru asked.

“Kick a few and take a few, and bring everyone back,” Yeager said with due seriousness.

“We'll do that, sir, and the latter?” Guru asked. “Do the best I can.”

“All you can do,” Yeager told him. “Good luck.”

“Thank you, sir.” Guru said. He headed on back to the squadron's offices, and found Goalie waiting. “Game time again.”

“Any idea where?” Goalie asked.

“Kara's got the packet. Time to get back in the game,” Guru told his GIB.

“Just as long as the other team doesn't score.”

Guru nodded. “Seconded. Time to brief, then we fly.”


335th TFS HQ: 1245 Hours Central War Time:


Guru and Goalie were headed to their briefing room when they came across Flight Lieutenant Steve “Jack” Lord, their RAF Liaison Officer. He had been sent ahead to lay the groundwork for a detachment of RAF F-4s that would be hopefully coming to Sheppard in a few days, and he was already getting along well with the USAF crews. “Jack,” Guru said. “Have a look at the new arrivals?”

Lord nodded. “Quite, Major,” he said. “Of course, the RAF hasn't had anything like this in a long time, and a dedicated dogfighter may be a good thing to have. “

“Or an Aggressor,” Goalie noted. “If we keep any of these after the war, they probably go to the Aggressor squadrons. There's one at Bentwaters, I believe. Or there was, prewar.”

“Still,” Jack agreed. “They still do the Aggressor role, but also as local interceptors.”

“Glad to see they're earning their pay,” Guru said. “Talk to General Yeager?”

“I didn't, unfortunately,” Lord said. “I've heard he had some unpleasant experiences with RAF personnel back in the day. I did talk to one of the demo pilots-nice chap by the name of Clancy. Looks like a good one, but he seems awfully young.”

“General Olds and General Yeager said the same thing about us,” Guru said. “Want to sit in on a mission brief?”

“Be glad to,” Jack said.

Guru nodded. 'Oh, you did see Doc Waters about a flight physical?”

“I did, and I passed. With flying colors.”

“Good,” Guru said. “Now you can do some flying with us. From the back seat, though, since you're not E qualified.”

“Understood.”

Nodding, Guru, Goalie, and Jack went to the briefing room Guru's flight used. When they got there, the rest of the flight were waiting. “All right, people, let's get the next show on the road.”

“Where to?” Sweaty asked.

The CO looked at Kara, who tossed him the packed. He opened it, and spread out some recon photos and then grabbed a navigation chart. “Here's the deal. We're headed down to the Nicaraguan sector east of the Brazos.”

“Nice,” Kara said. “Those guys don't shoot much.” Word was getting around that the Nicaraguans' enthusiasm for the war had cooled significantly since the summer and PRAIRIE FIRE.

Guru nodded. “No, but the folks we're going after? Much different story. The target is a supply dump, and it's Libyan.”

“Those guys shoot as if there's going to be no tomorrow,” Hoser pointed out, and his GIB, KT, nodded agreement.

“Yeah, and guess what? This target is close to the Brazos, which means the East Germans on the west side will shoot across the river,” Guru told them. “And there's this: the Libyans and Nicaraguans don't exactly get along, and there's a regiment of Soviets in between them.”

“Swell,” Brainiac said.

“What's the defenses?” Kara asked.

“At the target? The usual, with ZU-23s, those quad ZPU-4 machine guns, plus MANPADS,” replied the CO. “The Nicaraguans do not have heavy SAMs, but the Libyans just south of them do. We may get SA-6 or SA-8, add the East Germans across the river, with either divisional level or Army-level assets, and then there's the Soviets. It's a motor-rifle regiment, and you know what that means.”

“SA-9 and ZSU-23-4,” Goalie nodded. “This could be a rough ride.”

“No doubt,” Guru said. “And no Weasels, because they're all committed. So we go in low and fast, and rely on our ECM pods. Element leads have an ALQ-119, as usual, and wingmates have the ALQ-101.”

Heads nodded at that. “Ordnance?” Sweaty wanted to know.

“Twelve Mark-82 Snakeyes, each bird. Four Sidewinders and two Sparrows, full twenty-mike-mike, and two wing tanks,” replied Guru. “And the Sparrows are still the E models.”

“That's just great,” Kara spat. “What about General Olds and the help he was trying to get?”

Guru nodded. General Olds had been told of their Sparrow problem, and was working through Tenth Air Force to see about getting them AIM-7Fs, Sparrows that actually had a decent chance of working. “He's working on it. He has informed General Tanner, and Tanner's trying to break the logjam.”

“So, in terms of air-to-air?”

“Avoid combat, unless we come across a recon element or a strike flight. Or if we get jumped,” the CO said. “If you can take a Sidewinder shot at a chopper? Go ahead.”

Hoser looked at his CO. “MiGs, Boss?”

“MiG-29s are confirmed at Gray AAF and Bergstrom, while MiG-21s and -23s are at James Connolly AFB at Waco, along with both Waco and Temple airports. Brownwood Regional has MiG-21s, and those are East German, by the way. And you'll like this: Bergstrom has Su-27s and that's now confirmed. So remember your anti-Flanker drill.”

“Get down low, do a Doppler break, and scream for help from AWACS,” noted Sweaty.

“And pray that a 'teenage' fighter's around,” Preacher added.

“Bailout areas?” Hoser asked. “Same as before?”

The CO nodded. “Anyplace rural and away from the roads. Jolly Green's had good luck in this sector, so hole up, wait until dark, and they will be coming,” Guru said. “Before you ask, weather's still good, but that may change in a few days.” He surveyed his flight. “Anything else?”

“What about those F-20s?” Sweaty wanted to know. “They going into combat?”

“Don't be surprised if those young pups General Yeager's got driving them decide to take a side trip down to the front lines,” Guru said. “In fact, I'd expect it.”

Kara looked at her CO and flight lead. “And Yeager?”

“There's a 'no-combat' directive that applies to both him and General Olds,” Guru replied. “Comes right from the Chief of Staff himself.” Though he was privately wondering how long that would hold up. Given how the 335th-and many other units in Tenth Air Force, often would fold, spindle, bend, or mutilate such directives, regulations, etc. in order to produce results.....

“We'll see how long that lasts,” Brainiac said.

“We will,” the CO nodded. “Anything else?” Heads shook no. “All right, let's get back in the game. Gear up and meet at 512.”


After gearing up, Guru and Goalie headed outside, and there, they found Maj. Dave Golen, their IDF “Observer” who had done a lot more than 'observe'. He was flying combat missions on a daily basis, and not only had he become an ace, he had bailed out almost everyone in the squadron from a tight spot at least once. As both Guru and Goalie could attest, for Dave had shot MiGs off them at least twice. “Dave,” Guru said.

“Guru,” Golen said. He nodded in the direction of his wingmate, Flossy. She was talking things over with her temporary GIB, Jang. “Looks like Flossy and Jang are talking things over.”

Guru took a look, and both Flossy and Jang were in a serious conversation. “I'd say so. Remember, this won't be for just a day. When you took Hoser's place? You were in my flight for a week.”

“I do,” Golen replied. “So....you're going out.”

“We are,” the CO said. “You going down to the Nicaraguan sector?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact.”

“Okay, what's your mission code?”

“Mustang. You?” Golen asked.

“Corvette,” Guru replied. “If you hit trouble, holler. We'll be there.”

“I'll say the same for you,” Golen said. “Good luck.”

“You too.”


When Guru and Goalie got to his aircraft's revetment, the rest of the flight were there. “Saw you two with Dave Golen,” Kara said. “They going with us?”

“No, but they'll be around. If we hit serious trouble, they'll be there,” Guru said. “Okay, gather around. It was time for his final instructions.

“Usual procedures on the radio?” Sweaty asked.

Guru nodded. “Mission code to AWACS and other interested parties. Call signs between us, and there's one other thing, people.”

“And that is?” Kara asked with due seriousness.

“Do not get complacent. These may be Libyans, but they can put a lot of lead in the air, so do NOT underestimate them,” the CO said. “Treat them as if they're Cat I Soviets. Got it?” The CO saw heads nodding at that. “Okay, anything else?”

“How many more today?” Hoser asked.

“There should be time for one more,” Guru said. “If it's CAS, maybe two. That answer your question?”

Hoser nodded. “Just wish the weather guys were wrong and we were getting something in.”

“You, me, and everyone else,” the CO said. “That it?” Heads nodded in the affirmative. “Okay, time to fly. Let's hit it.”

The flight members headed to their aircraft, and Guru and Goalie went to 512, the CO's mount. They found Staff Sergeant Mike Crowley, the Crew Chief, waiting, while the ground crew got out of the way. “Sergeant,” Guru said. “She ready to rock?”

“Major,” Crowley replied, snapping a salute. “Five-Twelve's ready, sir. Time to go to work.”

“It is that,” Guru said. He and Goalie did their preflight walk-arounds, then, after Guru signed for the aircraft, both climbed aboard and strapped in. They went through their cockpit checks, and as they did, Guru asked, “You think Yeager's going to bend that 'no-combat' rule?”

“Wouldn't you?” Goalie replied. “Ejection seats?”

“Armed top and bottom, check yours,” Guru replied. “You know what? In his shoes, I might, just to show that I still have what it takes.”

“Be careful of what you wish for,” she reminded her CO and lover. “Okay, Arnie and INS ready to go.” That meant the ARN-101 DMAS and the INS system.

“Final checklist complete?”

“It's done,” Goalie said. “Ready for engine start.”

Guru nodded, then gave a thumbs-up to his Crew Chief, who gave the “Start Engines” signal. First one, then both, J-79 engines were soon up and running. After the warm-up, Guru called the tower. “Tower, Corvette Lead with four, requesting taxi and takeoff instructions.”

“Corvette Flight, Tower. Clear to taxi to Runway Three-Five-Lima. Hold prior to the Active.”

“Roger, Tower, Corvette Lead rolling” Guru gave another thumbs-up to his Crew Chief, who then signaled the ground crew to pull away the wheel chocks. Then he gave the CO the 'taxi' signal, and Guru taxied 512 out of the revetment. As Guru cleared the revetment, Sergeant Crowley snapped a salute, and both pilot and GIB returned it.

Guru taxied to the runway, and the other three F-4s in the flight followed. They were actually number three in line, and when they got to the holding area, the flight held up so that the armorers could remove the weapon safeties. After a C-130 came in, it was time for Guru to call the tower. “Tower, Corvette Flight requesting clearance to taxi for takeoff.”

“Corvette Lead, Tower. Clear to taxi for takeoff. Winds are Two-six-seven for five,” the controller replied.

“Roger, Tower,” Guru said. He taxied 512 onto the runway, and Kara followed in 520. After a quick check, both Guru and Goalie gave Kara and Brainiac a thumbs-up, and their wingmates returned it. Then it was time. “Tower, Corvette Lead requesting clear for takeoff.”

As usual, the Tower didn't reply on the radio, but flashed a green light. Clear for Takeoff.

“Canopy coming down,” Guru said. Both he and Goalie pulled their canopies down and locked them, and at the same time, Kara and Brainiac did the same. Then Guru applied full power, released the brakes, and 512 thundered down the runway and into the air, with 520 right with them. Thirty seconds later, it was Sweaty's and Hoser's turn, and once airborne, Corvette Flight formed up and headed south for the tanker track and their pre-strike refueling.