The First Day

The First Day Part I:

Nellis AFB, NV, 0630 Hours Pacific Daylight Time, 4 September, 1985:

Lieutenants Matt Wiser and Tony Carpenter were in their rented Camaro, in a line of cars waiting to enter Nellis Air Force Base. They had risen early, eaten at the hotel, and knowing that there was a good chance security was still on alert, the both of them decided to go ahead and head to the base. Now, looking out the left window, Wiser saw a long line of cars on Craig Road waiting to enter the base. He and Tony had driven up Las Vegas Boulevard, avoiding I-15, and were in a long line as well. And both of them noticed Clark County Sheriff's Deputies and Nevada Highway Patrol officers assisting with traffic, since they were outside the city limits of Las Vegas. “How long have we been here?” Guru asked.

Tony looked at his watch. “Since 5:50.”

“God, with this much security, you'd think the President was coming.”

“Yeah,” Tony nodded. He went back to the morning's Las Vegas Review, which they'd picked up at the hotel along with the Los Angeles Times. “Says here they did find that wacko.”

“Oh?” Guru asked.

“Yeah. He crashed off of U.S. 93 near Henderson. They found him, dead, along with an AK-47 and 5,000 rounds of ammo.”

“Anything else, like, say, a note?” Guru asked. “Nuts like that always leave something to say 'The world sucks, It sucks to be me, so I'm lashing out.' Or something like that.”

Tony scanned the story. “Nope.”

“Great,” Guru cursed. “If this guy's dead, why all the security?”

“Maybe he's got friends?” Tony asked.

The line moved and as the Camaro got to the main gate, Guru and Tony noticed the AF Security Police waiting. They rolled down the windows and got ready to show their ID cards.

“Sirs, could you step out of the vehicle, please?” One of the airmen asked. Instead of the spit-and-polish of dress uniforms, they were in fatigues, and had M-16s slung over their shoulders.

Guru and Tony got out of the car and both were quickly padded down by SP s. After that, they were allowed to show their ID, and the car was given the mirror treatment, and a military working dog sniffed the vehicle. Everything was checked, and only after the dog was through did the SP airman hand the ID cards back to the two officers. “Here you go, sirs,”

“What's this about? Didn't they catch that loony last night?” Tony asked.

'Sir, all I know is what they told us: keep this up for another day or so. Not until the FBI and OSI give the all-clear.” OSI meant the Office of Special Investigations, the Air Force's criminal-investigation and counterintelligence arm.

The two F-4 crewers shrugged, got into their car, and headed into the base. After a few minutes, they found the building where their squadron was being housed for the duration of the exercise. After they parked, they found several of their squadron mates sitting around,waiting. “Look who the cat dragged in,” Capt. Morgan Donahue, who was one of the squadron's ordnance officers (every pilot and WSO had a secondary ground job besides flying) quipped.

'And good morning to you too,” Tony said. “Sir.”

“Let me guess? You guys still grumpy about being in that traffic jam?”

“You could say that,” Guru said as he got his bag out of the car. They then went inside and found the ops office. Both of them worked for Major Keith Pollard, the Operations Officer. He wasn't there, so they left their bags on their desks. As they got ready to go back outside, Colonel Johnson came in.

“Nice to see my wing crew in early,” Johnson said.

“Yes, sir,” Guru and Tony nodded.

“Major Pollard in?”

“No sir,” Guru replied. “Chances are, he's stuck in traffic.”

“Like almost everybody,” Colonel Johnson said. “You guys eat yet?”

“Yes, sir. We ate before coming here,” Tony said.

“Come on. It's going to be a busy day, and you'll be glad you had the extra food.”



Officer's Open Mess, Nellis AFB, NV: 0710 Hours Pacific Daylight Time:


“So, how was your weekend?” Colonel Johnson asked Guru and Tony.

“Celebrated my birthday Friday,” Lieutenant Wiser said. “One of the restaurants in the hotel is a steakhouse, and they had a steak and lobster tail dinner.”

“Steak and shrimp for me,” Tony said. “It was a little expensive, but since he paid, it was worth it.”

“Always good to have someone else pay for a dinner like that,” Maj. Brian Calhoun, Johnson's WSO, said.

“It is that,” Tony grinned. “Other than that, we wasted a little money in the slot machines.”

“Only a little, Boss,” Guru added.

Colonel Johnson nodded as he skimmed the Las Vegas Journal. This was a later edition than the one that had come out earlier in the morning. “See this? 'China Claims Soviets Plan Attack?'”

“We saw it, Colonel,” Guru said. “One thing I learned as a History Major....”

“And that is,” Johnson asked in between bites of his omelet.

“One of Eisenhower's prima donnas said this: 'There are only two rules of war, One, Never invade Russia. Two: Never invade China.'”

“Which prima donna said that?” Tony asked.

“Montgomery,” Guru said, then he took a swig of coffee.

Capt. Donahue spoke up. “Well, Colonel, if the two Communist giants go after each other, what do we do?”

“Sit back and watch, Captain,” Johnson nodded.

“That'd be great...” Guru nodded. Just after he said that, there was a large BOOM.

“What the hell was that?” Several people asked all at once.

“Construction blasting?” Colonel Johnson asked. “At this time of morning?”

Then there was another explosion, and what sounded like firecrackers off in the distance.

“Maybe that nut had friends,” someone said.

Then another Colonel, who'd been in Southeast Asia, yelled, “That's small arms fire! And this base is under attack!”

General Shoemaker came running in, half out of breath. “People, I'm only going to say this once: we are at war. The Soviets have attacked Alaska, there's Soviet and Cuban armor crossing the border from Tijuana all the way to the Gulf, and there's Soviet airborne in Colorado and New Mexico. Right now, your planes are being armed with what's available. Get to the border, and any armor headed north? Kill it. Man your aircraft!”

The mess emptied as aircrews and other officers headed to their posts or to get suited up. Colonel Johnson, Guru, and the others from the 335th ran like hell to their spaces, and frantically got suited up. “Ever think you'd go to war?” Tony asked.

“In Korea, or maybe Europe,” Guru said as he put on his G-suit and grabbed his helmet and oxygen mask.

On the way out, they literally ran into their squadron's supply officer, Maj. Paul Whitaker. He was a former WSO who'd been grounded due to a heart murmur, and he was wondering what was happening.

“Paul,” Colonel Johnson said as he went out the door. “Triple-order everything you can think of.”

“What the hell's happened?”

“Ivan and Fidel just crossed the border. So we're at war. Tell the supply sergeants to, uh, get whatever we need, by hook or crook.”

Whitaker understood; he'd been a F-4 WSO in 1972 during LINEBACKER I and II. “Gotcha, Colonel. Go get some.”

“Let's go, people!” Johnson yelled as the crews ran for their aircraft.

Guru and Tony ran for 515, “their” aircraft, while others intended to take the first armed and fueled aircraft they came to. As they ran, they saw two F-16s from the 474th TFW, the combat unit stationed at Nellis, take to the air. As they got to 515, they found their crew chief staring dumbfounded as ordnance people loaded a full drum of 20-mm ammunition for the F-4's Vulcan cannon, and loaded a pair of TER racks with three Mark-82 500-pound bombs apiece on the inner wing stations. “Sergeant,” Guru said as they reached the plane.

“Sir, what's going on?” Sergeant Calhoun asked in his Georgia drawl.

“Remember all those folks who said the Russians might come across the Rio Grande?” Tony said.

Calhoun nodded. “Yes, sir....”

“They were right,” Guru said. “Got the starter cart?”

“All set, sir. But..what, we're at war?”

“We are. Get ready for engine start,” Guru said as he climbed the crew ladder and got into the pilot's seat.

Then Calhoun's training kicked in, and he helped both Guru and Tony get strapped into their seats. The two crewers ran through what both thought was their fastest preflight ever, then they got the “start engines” hand signal from their crew chief. Both J-79 engines came to life, one after the other. As the engines warmed up, Colonel Johnson's voice came over the radio. “Okay, people, go in flights of four. Get to the border, find armor headed north, and kill it. Watch for MiGs, watch for SAMs, and watch for power lines if you get down low. Remember your training, stick to your wingmen, and we'll get through this. Go by call signs on the radio. Let's go.”

With that, Johnson's plane began to taxi, and Guru was right behind him. As they taxied, the crews noticed several more F-16 two-ships, and a couple of F-15s-presumably from the visiting 58th TFS, take to the air. They held short of the runway so that the armorers could pull of the weapon safety pins, and as they waited, the crews saw a strange sight: the Catholic Chaplain, standing next to the armorers, and he was giving the departing crews the sign of the Cross, and a absolution as they taxied onto the runway. “You Catholic?” Tony asked as he saw Guru snap a salute to the Chaplain.

“No, technically Episcopalian, but devout Agnostic. But today? We may need all the help we can get,” Guru observed as he taxied onto the runway, in the wing position to Colonel Johnson.

As they taxied, they saw a couple of helicopters orbiting. One was a UH-1N from the base, and another looked to be a civilian news chopper. Then, all of a sudden, a white smoke trail came from just north of the base, and the news chopper's tail came off as it was struck.

It tumbled to the ground in flames and exploded on impact “Oh, God...” Guru said. “Boss-”

“I saw it,” the CO responded. “All Chiefs, this is Lead. Grail, Grail, Grail. Combat takeoffs, no matter what.”

Before anyone could respond, the tower flashed a green light. Clear for takeoff.

“Let's go!” Johnson shouted, and he released his brakes and rolled down the runway. Guru followed, and both Phantoms rumbled into the air. And as they pulled up and away, toward Lake Mead, they saw another missile trail reach out towards them, but it missed. Then the UH-1 hovered over the launch area, and sprayed it with machine-gun fire.

After takeoff, the two Phantoms were joined by another pair, plus two F-16s and two F-15s. Colonel Johnson called the element leaders, and found out he was senior. “All right, follow us to the border. Kill any MiGs that get too close to us.”

“Copy that,” the F-15 leader, a brand-new Captain who had just graduated to element lead, said.” Let's go.”

“What are we waiting for?” the F-16 lead called.

The eight-ship then turned and headed into Arizona.
The difference between diplomacy and war is this: Diplomacy is the art of telling someone to go to hell so elegantly that they pack for the trip.
War is bringing hell down on that someone.

The First Day Part III:

Over Western Arizona, 0945 Hours:

Chevy Flight, with the four F-15s from Olds Flight, headed back towards the border. As they did, the crews saw several private planes or commuter airliners coming into the traffic patterns at Kingman and Prescott airports, looking for someplace, anyplace, to put down. “FAA's shut down the navaids.” Guru said.

“I noticed,” Tony replied. “No VOR or NDBs. Just TACAN for us.”

Then Guru noticed two smoky trails above and to the right. “Chevy Lead, Two.”

“Go, Two,” Colonel Johnson replied.

“Rhinos at One O’clock,” Guru said. “These our Weasels?”

“Stand by one,” the CO said. “This is Chevy Lead looking for Coors Lead. You guys the Rhinos at my One?”

“Chevy, Coors,” the F-4G flight lead called. “You found us. We can give you two Standard ARMs and two Shrikes, plus two Rifles.” Rifle meant AGM-65 Mavericks. They did have a good anti-radar missile, and an older one that was still effective-if used properly.

“Copy that,' Chevy Lead said. “Follow us to the border. We could've used you guys this morning.”

“Comin' in,' the Weasel leader said, and two more Phantoms joined the formation, now approaching the Phoenix area.

“Tony, anything on the radio?” Guru asked his WSO.

“Nothing good,” Tony said. “Ivan and Fidel blew through the border towns like it was nothing.”

“What else?” Guru asked.

“Uh...All the Guard and Reserve got Federalized, this station in Phoenix says.”

Nodding, Guru concentrated on flying the plane, and keeping his head on a swivel. That had been drummed into his head in the RTU, not that long ago. Then he saw several explosions in the air, and aircraft falling. “What the..”

“Flight, Lead,” Johnson called. “I see it. Stand by.”

Chevy Flight got closer, and they could see fighters slashing at what appeared to be transports. Then they recognized the fighters as F-15s, and the transports were An-12 Cubs and An-26 Curls. Several of each were now falling in flames, and several others had crashed, for there were columns of smoke rising from a number of crash sites.

“Looks like the good guys are winning this one,” Tony observed, as an An-12 fell off to their left. “What'd they think they'd do? Land at Luke or Sky Harbor and just take over?”

“Don't know,” Guru replied. “But some jumped. There's quite a few chutes.” And sure enough, there were numerous parachutes, and that meant some of the paratroopers had jumped.

“Flight, Lead. This ain't our fight. We got business near the border.” Johnson reminded the flight, and everyone acknowledged. And the Phantoms and their Eagle escorts headed south. They got close to Tucson, and everyone could see A-7s and A-10s taking off, and even Army AH-1s. An Army Reserve unit flew AH-1S Cobras out of Marana Airpark, and some of them were headed off to war. The crews could also see a couple columns of smoke rising from Tucson near both Davis-Monthan AFB and Tucson IAP, and something had happened.

“Wonder if they had gate-crashers like we did,” Guru wondered.

“No bet. That was a given,” Tony replied.

Then the RWR came up. “Picking up SA-6,” Guru said.

“Got it,” Tony said. “How do you want the bombs?”

“Everything in one go.”

“Coors Lead, Chevy Lead,” the Weasel leader called. “Time for us to go to work, fella.”

“Copy that,” Colonel Johnson replied. “Get those guys off the air.”

“Roger that,” Coors Lead said. “Got an eight coming up.” That meant an SA-8 launch vehicle, and the SA-8 was still a relative unknown. “And...Magnum!” Coors Lead called as an AGM-78 Standard-ARM missile came off his Weasel.

The big missile stampeded away from the F-4, and homed in on the threat.

To the south, a Cuban SA-6 battery was trying to lock up the incoming aircraft. In the Straight Flush radar vehicle, the crew's morale was high. They had already shot down an F-4 and two A-7s, and sent an A-10 back damaged, and the Cuban missilers were exuberant. Then they heard a WHOOSH, then all of a sudden, their radar track exploded around them......

“SA-6 down,” Guru said, checking his EW repeater.

“Magnum!” Coors Lead shouted. And another AGM-78 went off in search of a target. It found a nearby SA-8 vehicle and exploded it just as it fired at Coors Lead.

“Coors Lead is Winchester,” he called. That meant he was out of ordnance. “Coors Two, it's all yours.”

“Copy. Chevy Lead, want to go in? I'll cover you.”

“Roger,” Chevy Lead replied. “Buick Lead, Chevy Lead. Any MiGs?”

“That's affirm,” the F-15 leader called. “Got some Floggers inbound.” That meant MiG-23s.

“Get some, Buick,” Johnson said. “Chevy Flight, same drill. South to North.”

“Roger, Lead,” Guru replied.

“Three copies,” Surfer called.

Chevy Flight rolled in, with Coors Two right behind them. Then he called, “Coors Two, Magnum!” as a Shrike missile came off the rail, and tracked something down below. As it did, Coors Two said, “Rifle one, and two,” as he shot his two AGM-65s.

“Roger that,” Chevy Lead said. “Lead in hot.” And Colonel Johnson rolled in on some armor barely a mile south of where they had flown their first strike. He put his bombs right on some APCs, and several Cuban BTRs exploded. “Lead's off.”

Right after Johnson called off target, Guru rolled in. “Two's in,” he called. And he went down the chute, picking out some tanks near where the Colonel had planted his bombs. “And...HACK!” Guru hit the pickle button, and a dozen Mark-82s came off the plane. He rolled out level, and got back down low. “Two's off safe.”

Guru's bombs landed among several T-55 tanks, and two of the beasts took direct hits. Several others fireballed as near-misses sent hot shrapnel into their external fuel tanks, on the rear decks of the tanks, and those exploded. And one of his bombs even flipped over a T-55.

“Three's in,” Surfer called as he rolled in, with the second Weasel alongside him. The F-4G then shot off his last Shrike as a ZSU-23 AA vehicle came up, and the Shrike found the Shilka's Gun Dish radar and exploded both the radar and the vehicle. While that was going on, Surfer found some Cuban 122-mm SP guns for his bombs, and Mark-82s rained down on the battery, exploding a couple of the 2S1 SP guns, and also taking out several ammo trucks, which set off sympathetic detonations as their ammunition exploded. “Three's off, and got some secondaries.”

“Roger that, Three,” Johnson said. “Let's get north. Buick Lead, form on me and RTB, now.”

“Copy that, Chevy Lead. Splash six Floggers,” the F-15 leader called.

“Good kills, Buick,” Johnson replied. “Coors, thanks for the help.”

“Anytime, Chevy, We're going to RTB. See you guys later.” And the two F-4Gs headed to the northwest, back to George AFB to refuel and rearm.

Chevy Flight and its escorts had their egress to the northeast, and as they approached Interstate 10, they saw a Boeing 727 ahead, inbound to Tucson. The white with blue trim paint job meant Republic Airlines and it was clear this guy was trying to get his plane and passengers on the ground. Then Buick Lead yelled on the radio. “He's got MiGs on his tail!”

“Republic 727, this is an F-4 at your Ten O'clock. You have hostiles behind you,” Colonel Johnson called on GUARD (121.5). There was no answer. “Buick Lead, get some.”

“Copy that!” Buick Flight hit their burners and charged in.

“Chevy Flight, let's go. Back up the Eagles.” Lead called.

Guru armed his two AIM-9s and followed his CO in.

Just as the F-15s got in AIM-7 range, the 727 took two missile hits to the tail and port wing, and the plane rolled left, then plunged down to earth, his tail and left wing on fire. The 727 crashed north of I-10, and exploded in a huge fireball.

Enraged, the F-15s took shots with their remaining AIM-7s, as the MiGs were now identified as MiG-21s. Two of the MiGs took Sparrow hits and exploded, as the Eagles got into a turning fight with the MiGs. One of the MiG-21s took a Sidewinder hit and blew up, while the last MiG tried to run south. He didn't get far, as Buick Four lined up a gun shot and sprayed him with his 20-mm Vulcan gun. The MiG fell, trailing fire, and the pilot ejected.

“Break off, Break off,” Buick Lead yelled. The four F-15s orbited as the MiG driver's chute descended, and several cars and trucks on the Interstate stopped. Once the pilot was down, the F-15s rejoined the F-4s.

Down below, about fifty motorists on both sides of I-10 had pulled over as they saw the 727 crash and the dogfight that followed. Several truckers picked up tire irons and crowbars, and ran for the downed pilot. One of them was ex-Air Force, and recognized the last MiG-21 as the F-15 shot it down.

The MiG's pilot was quickly surrounded by the motorists, and he was set upon by the crowd. He was quickly dragged to a nearby pickup, tied to the bumper, and dragged behind the truck. After that, he was strung up from a tree next to the freeway.

As the F-15s rejoined the F-4s, Colonel Johnson got on the radio. “Who were the MiGs?”

“Chevy Lead, didn't see much. They weren't Russians, or Cubans. They had FAS on the side.”

“Sandinistas?”

“Maybe,” Buick Lead replied. “Couldn't tell for sure.”

The flight headed back north in silence, and an hour later, they were back in the Nellis traffic pattern. Departing aircraft had priority, as no one waiting had battle damage. Soon, they were cleared, and Chevy and Buick flights landed. They taxied to their area on the ramp, and after the F-4s shut down, the crew chiefs came out with crew ladders. “Lieutenant,” Sergeant Calhoun said. “You've got a half-hour, sir.”

“Thanks, Sergeant,” Guru said as he took off his helmet. One thing he noticed about his crew chief, he was packing a sidearm. “Where'd you get that?”

“They're passing them out to all air and ground crew. Just in case those Spetsnatz try it again.”

“That's who it was?” Tony asked as he got out of the rear cockpit.

“Yes, sir. At least, that's what the word is.” Sergeant Calhoun said. He was packing a S&W .38 in a holster on his belt.

“All right, Sergeant, 515's still truckin'. No gripes. And no battle damage,” Guru said as he climbed out of the cockpit. And Colonel Johnson came over. “Boss.”

“Good work, both of you,” he said, putting out his hand.

“Thank you, sir,” Guru said, and Tony seconded it, shaking their CO's hand.

“Surfer, good work, you and Jasper.” Johnson said.

“Thanks, Colonel,” Surfer replied

Then a crew van came up, with Major Keith Pollard, the Ops Officer. “Colonel, got some sandwiches and drinks for you guys, and some other stuff.”

The crewers went over to the van, and picked out what they wanted, plus some bottled water. “What have you got for us, Major?” Johnson asked.

“Here's some maps of the border area, and a frag order,” Pollard said. “Free strike again, though head for Sierra Vista: the Army's holding the Cubans there, but they want some fast movers.”

“Will do,” the CO said. “What are we getting?”

“First, Java and Raven need a element: their wingie's radar went down, and the maintenance guys are working on that. They're yours if you want a four-ship again.”

“Tell 'em to come with us,” Johnson ordered. That meant Capt. Bob Lockwood and 1st Lt. Steve Matheny would be joining the flight for now. Ordnance?”

“Two birds get Rockeyes, two get Mark-82s,” Pollard said.

“All right, Major,” Johnson said. “Thanks.”

“Sir,” Pollard said, as he went looking for the XO's flight, which was the next on his list.

Then Lockwood and Matheny came over. “Boss.”

“Java,”

Guru whispered to Tony. “How'd he get his call sign?”

“He drank coffee like a fish in UPT. So guess what?”

“I get it.”

“Get something to eat, hit the latrine, and get ready to go back out,” Johnson said.

The crews dug into the sandwiches and bottled water Pollard had left for them, while the ordnance crews armed their aircraft. They noticed that the element leaders had the Mark-82s, while the wingmen had the CBUs. “Guess we'll be looking for some armor,” Java said to Guru.

“Looks like it,' Guru replied.

After they finished eating, the crews hit the latrines, then came back out. Colonel Johnson was waiting by his aircraft for them. “Okay, we're headed for Sierra Vista. The Army's holding off the Cubans there, and they need more fast-movers. One pass only, and get north as soon as you can.”

“Any F-15s or Weasels?” Surfer asked.

“Both. F-15s are Cobra Flight, and they go with us. We meet the Weasels near Phoenix again. Call sign is Michelob,” said the CO.

“Why do the Weasels always use beer for their call signs?” Guru asked.

“Ask them,” the CO said. “Any other questions?”

“How many more?” Tony asked.

“Don't know myself,” Johnson admitted. “Maybe after this one, we can have an hour or so to rest before going back out.”

“Maybe,” Guru deadpanned.

“To be wished for, Lieutenant,” the CO said. “Anything else?' No one said a word. “Okay, mount up and let's go.”

The crews went to their F-4s and mounted their aircraft. After a rushed preflight and engine start, they taxied to the runway, third in line behind a flight of F-111s and a flight of F-16s loaded for air-to-ground. When it was their turn, they found the Chaplain there again, and the crews saluted him as they taxied for takeoff. Again, the tower flashed a green light, and the F-4s rumbled down the runway and into the air.

The First Day Part V: Guru manages to get a call home, on a very chaotic afternoon... While one pilot wonders what the penalty is for a Scud hit on the golf course....

Nellis AFB, NV: 1335 Hours:

“Guru. Guru! WAKE UP!”

Lieutenant Wiser opened his eyes. “Huh, what?” He saw Tony standing over him with a cup of coffee. “Time to get up. Wheels up in fifteen minutes.”

Guru nodded as he stood up. He saw the CO and his WSO, plus the others in the flight either getting up or already up. “How long?

“About an hour and a half,” Tony replied. “XO's still out.”

“Any news? And I imagine all of it's bad.”

“There's still a fight around El Paso, but the Russians and Cubans are probably going around. They're headed for San Antonio and Corpus Christi, and they're pouring across the Rio Grande like a tidal wave,” Tony said. “There were some more nukes in the Dakotas, though.”

“Missile silos?” Guru asked, draining the coffee cup.

“Launch control centers is what's going around.”

Nodding, Guru looked at his watch. “Great.”

“And George Bush is now President. Reagan didn't get out of Washington, apparently,” Tony said.

“Nothing we can do about that,” Guru said. “What's on our plate?”

Colonel Johnson answered that question. “Back to I-19 people. Free strike. Seems the Cubans and Mexicans-yeah, Mexicans, have stalled because of all the air coming down on them. They're sticking to the roads, and we're going to make them pay for that.”

“Ordnance, Boss?' Surfer asked.

“We'll find out when we get to the flight line. Hit the latrine if you need to, then let's go.” Johnson said.


The crews headed out to the flight line, and found that they had another anti-armor loadout. This time, everyone had the Rockeyes, plus two AIM-9s and two AIM-7s. “No ECM pod?” Java asked.

“They're still getting those out of storage and running tests,” Colonel Johnson said. “Maybe tomorrow.” He looked at the flight crews. “Okay....Buick Flight will be with us for MIGCAP, and Olympia Flight will be out of George. They'll meet us west of Phoenix. Questions?”

Guru raised his hand. “Yeah, Colonel. What's the deal with Phoenix?”

“Good question. Stay away from Luke's traffic pattern. And anywhere near Phoenix? Stay above 5,000 feet AGL. Not just the Cubans, mind, but our own people-lots of armed civilians taking shots at anything that flies. So stay safe, and avoid the area unless you have to divert to Luke or Williams.” Colonel Wiser looked at the crews. “That answer your question, Lieutenant?”

“Yes, sir.”

“All right, chances are, we'll have one more today. Then the maintenance folks need to get us ready for tomorrow. Because chances are, this is going to be a long war.” He looked around. “Anything else?” Heads shook no. “All right, mount up and let's go.”

The crews went to their aircraft and did their preflight walkarounds, then they mounted their aircraft. As they went through the cockpit preflight, Guru told his backseater, “Want to bet the RTU instructors would be failing all of us today for rushing the preflight?”

“Failing a light colonel?” Tony quipped. “That, I'd love to see.”

Sergeant Calhoun, 515's crew chief, gave the “Start Engines” signal, and first, one, then both J-79 engines came to life. Then Guru followed his squadron CO, taxiing out, and just as in the morning, the Catholic Chaplain was waiting as the aircraft halted at the runway so that the armorers could remove the weapon safeties. Then, again, the tower gave clearance for takeoff with a green light, and Chevy Flight rumbled down the runway and into the air.


Over Western Arizona: 1425 Hours:


Chevy and Buick Flights headed south over Arizona, between Kingman and Wickenburg, and they fully intended to give the Phoenix area a wide berth. By now, the WSOs were watching their radar scopes, while the pilots maintained their visual scanning. “Anything?” Guru asked Tony.

“Everything shows friendly on IFF,” Tony said.

Then Java called, “Rhinos at Three O'clock.”

“Roger that,” the CO said. “Rhinos at my Three, you Olympia Flight?”

“Roger that. You must be Chevy,” Olympia Lead called. “Two Weasels comin' your way. Got two HARMs and two Standard-ARMs, each airplane.”

“Copy,” Chevy Lead radioed. “Come on and join the show.”

The two Weasel Phantoms joined the package, and as they headed south, the crews saw several F-15 flights from Luke orbiting west of Phoenix, and some smoke clouds still coming up.

“Anything on the radio, Tony?” Guru asked.

“Just a sec....okay. They're asking people to stay away from the Goodyear Airport, Glendale Municipal, and the towns of Maricopia and Mobile. That's pretty much where the Cubans are.”

“And the Army's coming?”

“You got it. I-8 and I-10 are open to military traffic only.”

Nodding, Guru concentrated on flying the airplane. It wasn't long until they were getting close to the Tuscon area, and what looked like a smoke cloud coming from a golf course. “Let me guess: a Scud landed on that golf course.”

“Man, that's a big divot,” Tony said.

“Hey, Lead,” Java called. “What's the penalty for a Scud on the course?”

Though he was of a mind to tell Java to knock the chatter off, Colonel Johnson knew that some humor was a good thing, after everything that had happened today. “Java, I think you just play around. Okay, people, time to get serious. I-19 ahead. And there's Hogs and SLUFs headed in.”

The package followed the A-10s and A-7s down the Interstate, and sure enough, the Weasels picked up radar emissions on their APR-47 “sniffer” gear. “Got some SAMs and an air-search radar, Chevy Lead. Want those to go away?”

“Get some, Olympia,”

The two Weasels headed in, and then, one, then two, “Magnum” calls came over the radio as HARM missiles went in search of SAM or air-search radars. And an SA-6 and an air-search radar went off the air. “Got a couple of eights coming.” That meant SA-8 Geckos, and unlike the SA-6, they had the missiles and the radar on the same vehicle. “Olympia Two, “Magnum!” And a HARM and a Standard-ARM went off in search of targets.

Near Tubac, a Cuban air-defense officer was wondering what was happening. His pre-invasion briefing had assured all senior commanders that their air force, and special-operations teams, would make sure the Yanquis' aircraft would stay on the ground. Seeing A-7s and A-10s all morning, with occasional F-4s and Cobra attack helicopters, showed what that promise had been made of.

Now, with two interstate bridges over a small riverbed blown, and the engineers stuck in a traffic jam that led all the way back to the border, this mixed force of Mexicans and Cubans was now stalled, and highly vulnerable to air attack. The imperialists had been over them all day, and losses to their aircraft had been horrendous. He was now sitting in a 9K33 (NATO SA-8) missile vehicle, and it was only transmitting intermittently due to those insidious anti-radar missiles the Americans always seemed to have. Then the senior operator turned on the radar again, only to see a target appear, then make a turn. Suddenly, there was a WHOOSH overhead, then an explosion. The vehicle, and its occupants, were shredded by the 214-pound warhead of an AGM-78 going off....

“Any guns down there?” Chevy Lead asked.

“Negative,” Olympia Lead replied. “Still got a HARM and a 78 left.”

“Copy that. Chevy Flight, on me. Time to go to work.” And Colonel Johnson rolled in on the armor stuck behind two blown bridges. “Lead's in hot!” The CO rolled down the chute, and laid his Rockeyes on several T-55 tanks, and as he pulled out and away, several of the tanks fireballed. “Lead off target.”

“Two's in!” Guru called. “Tony, set it up: everything at once.”

“You got it, buddy.” He worked the armament switches. “You're set.”

“Copy that and hang on.” Guru rolled in, and he saw where the CO had put his CBUs. He chose several tanks and APCs just south of that, and came in. “Steady, and HACK!” He called, pushing the pickle button, and a dozen Rockeye CBUs came off his F-4. “Two's off.”

“Three's in!” Surfer called.

Hearing that as he pulled away, Guru turned his head, and saw his CBU bomblets going off. “Look at that!”

“We got secondaries!” Tony shouted. “Good hits, my man!”

“Three''s off target,” Surfer radioed.

“MAGNUM!” Olympia Two called, sending a HARM after a radar signal that came up, and a ZSU-23-4 AA vehicle exploded as the HARM missile found its radar dish.

“Bandits inbound,” Buick Lead called. “We got Fishbeds.” That meant MiG-21s.

“Roger that, Buick. Break 'em up,” Chevy Lead called.

“That's a roger. FOX ONE!” Buick Lead said as he fired a Sparrow missile.

“Four's in.” Java called. “Three's got good hits.” Java rolled in, and put his bombs on some artillery tracks that looked as if they were set up to fire. The rain of CBUs exploded a couple, and also took out several of their ammo trucks.” Four's off safe.”

“Copy that, Chevy. Meet up over Kitt Peak.” That was the location of the Kitt Peak Observatory.

“Two,” Guru called.

“Three,” Surfer.

“Four, roger,” Java called.

“Olympia Flight is now Winchester,” Olympia Lead radioed. “We are RTB at this time.”

“Good work, Olympia,” Chevy Lead replied. “Thanks for the help.”

“Anytime, Chevy.” the Weasel leader said. And those two Phantoms headed back to California.

“Chevy, Buick. Splash two Floggers, the rest turned tail,” said Buick Lead.

“Roger, Buick. Form on us.” Colonel Johnson said.

'The F-15s headed to Kitt Peak, and found the F-4s orbiting. The package reformed, and this time, no one needed the tankers. And the package headed back to Nellis, passing two more F-4 flights and two F-111 flights on their way to the fight. Just like the previous mission, when they got to Lake Mead, a pair of Aggressor F-5s checked them out. And to the F-4 crews' surprise, one of the F-5s had an empty Sidewinder rail.

“What'd he shoot?” Tony asked.

“Find out later, I reckon.” Guru said.

This time, they were the first in the pattern, and both Chevy and Buick Flights came in and landed. After taxiing and shutting down, the crews noticed some excitement. “What's going on?” Colonel Johnson asked one of the ground crew.

“Had a couple MiGs come by,” the sergeant replied. “The F-5s got one, and an F-16 got the other. Had a little air show about a half-hour ago.”

“Well,” Guru observed. “The Aggressors got somebody today.”

“That they did, Lieutenant,” Colonel Johnson said. “Come on. Let's do a quick debrief, then see what's next.”

After a quick debriefing with Captain Lambert, Chevy Flight got its next mission. It would be an hour, but they would be going out on their fifth mission of the day, and likely their last, as the maintenance people needed to get as many aircraft ready for the next day. The crews got a bite to eat, and caught some news. A TV set in the briefing room was set to the Vegas NBC station, and they were showing scenes from the outskirts of Washington, D.C. Things in Virginia were under control, due to a heavy presence of the Virginia National Guard, but across the Potomac in Maryland, Prince George's County was a mess. And hospitals from Richmond to Baltimore were busy treating casualties from the nuclear blast, not to mention those from the civil disorder.

“Looks bad,” Tony commented. “Anything about Kansas City?”

Major Pollard, the Ops Officer, said. “Not much. Other than there were several detonations.”

“And nobody from Omaha?”

“No. Message traffic says it was a big one. Twenty megatons at least.”

There was silence after that.


A few minutes later, Guru found a pay phone. He wondered if the long-distance lines were still up, or if they'd been taken over by the military. He took a chance, and dialed his Mom's home phone. There was a pickup. “Hello?”

“Mom, it's Matt.”

“Thank God! Where are you? Still in Vegas?”

“Can't say officially, but for now, yeah. I can't talk long. Just wanted to tell you I'm okay so far, and if you don't hear from me for a few days, or don't get a letter, it's because I'm busy.”

“Okay,”

“Mom-if something happens, the Air Force will tell you. So don't worry if I don't get in touch for a while. Let Grandma know and everyone else, and I'll stay in touch the best I can. Anything happen there?”

“In Auberry? No, but everyone in town is talking about forming some kind of posse. Lots of pickup trucks with guns, things like that.”

“And half the senior class at the high school wants to enlist.”

“They do.”

“Okay. Gotta go. Mom-I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Bye.” Guru hung up, and found Tony standing next to him.

“Calling home?” Tony asked.

“Yeah. My family's okay, and you might want to call your folks. No telling how long the long-distance lines will be available.”

Tony nodded, then managed to get his call through.

While Tony was on the phone, Guru went back to the Ops desk. He and Tony had been so busy, they hadn't even touched their bags. Then the CO came over. 'Boss.”

“Guru. What'd you do? Call home?” Colonel Johnson asked.

“Yeah, I did. Figured I may not have a chance for a while.”

The CO nodded sympathetically. “Don't blame you. I'll pass the word for people to try and get in touch. You know anyone in the nuclear sites?”

“No, sir,” Guru replied.

“Okay, but pass it on: the Red Cross is taking names, addresses, etc. They're going to help with refugees, and tracing relatives. Or, they'll try at least.”

Guru nodded, and Tony came over. “Well, Dad says that things are okay. Nothing happened, and get this: he heard on the radio that a RV company in Coburg has already offered their facilities to make whatever the military needs from them.”

“What's an RV company going to do?” Guru asked.

“They can install radios and other gear in some of 'em,” Tony said. “Or they can make other stuff-what's that eight-wheeled vehicle the Marines use now?”

“LAV-25s,” the CO replied. “Well, well....awful nice of them.”

“Yes, sir,” Tony said.

Then Major Pollard, the Ops Officer, came over. “Colonel, got your Frag Order. You guys are going back to I-19.”

“Again?” Surfer asked.

“Again,” the Ops Officer said. “The Army's getting close to that location, and the bad guys haven't pushed north of Tubac. Supply problems or whatever. Anyway, kill anything on the Interstate between there and Nogales.”

“Free strike?' Java asked.

“That's it, Captain,” Pollard replied. “Your birds are being armed right now, and Olds Flight will be your escorts. And your old pals from this morning, Michelob, will be Weasel support. And we should be getting EF-111s from Mountain Home tonight.”

“Those'll be good to have.” The CO observed.

An Ops NCO came up and gave Major Pollard a message. “Boss, two planes from the XO's flight are down. Well, one's down, the other had to land at Davis-Monthan. No further info.”

“All right, Major. Let me know when you get anything else.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay, get your gear and mount up. Let's get this last one done,” the CO said.

After gearing up, the crews went to the flight line, and found they had the same load as the previous one: a dozen Rockeyes each airplane. After the preflight, they mounted their aircraft and started their J-79 engines. They taxied out, and the Chaplain was there again.

“He running on overdrive or what?” Tony asked as the armorers removed the weapon safeties.

“He'd probably say he's been recharged with power from above,” Guru noted.

Chevy Flight taxied onto the runway, and the tower flashed the green light. The F-4s rumbled down the runway and into the air, with their F-15s right behind them.