Post by lordroel on Oct 22, 2024 17:51:46 GMT
Posted with permission of Matt Wiser over at HPCA: First Kill
Day two and Guru gets his first kill:
First Kill
Nellis AFB, NV: 5 September, 1985, 0730 Hours PDT
It had been a chaotic first day of war. The war everyone had thought would happen in Europe, was now being fought on American soil, and to make matters worse, New York, Washington, D.C.; Omaha, and Kansas City, along with the Minuteman Launch Control Centers in the Dakotas, had been nuked. Soviet forces had landed in Alaska, while Soviet, Cuban, Nicaraguan, and other Soviet-Bloc forces had crossed into the U.S. all along the Mexican border. While the invasion in California and Arizona was being repulsed, the news was bad from New Mexico and Texas. Word was going around that they might lose all of Texas and nearby states if things kept going this bad. That was something those who were from those states, or had family there, didn't want to think about.
The various Air Force, Navy, and Marine squadrons who had arrived for Red Flag 9-85 had instead found themselves going to a real war on what should've been the first day of Red Flag. Instead, they had gone down to either Arizona or Southern California to blast invading Soviet, Cuban, and Mexican troops, or to shoot MiGs and transports out of the sky. Now, with the Air Force starting to get its act together, the Tenth Air Force-the Air Force Reserve command for the Western U.S., had been directed to take charge of the air war in the Southwest and West Coast, and Red Flag's planners were now busy drafting strike and combat air patrol operations over the entire Southwest, from the Pacific Ocean to the Rio Grande and up as far as Colorado.
For Lt. Col. Mark Johnson, it meant his squadron, the 335th Tactical Fighter Squadron, would not be rejoining its parent wing, the famous “4th but First” Tactical Fighter Wing, anytime soon. Once a forward base had been identified, he was told, his unit would fly there and was likely going to be under Marine Operational Control, something he didn't like, but there it was. And now, his squadron was sending out two- and four-ship flights to the border, either for ground attack or to fly cover for the A-7s from Tuscon and the A-10s from Davis-Monthan that were in the process of turning Interstate 19 into a junkyard of Cuban and Mexican armor. Then a frag order had come in, for a strike on the Nogales Airport, just across the border from Mexico. A four-ship of Phantoms, plus a pair of Weasel F-4Gs to kill any SAMs, would have to do the job. Shrugging his shoulders, he went off to brief his flight.
His wingman was six months in the squadron, and though he had come out of OTS instead of the AF Academy or AFROTC, the guy had done well on the first day, and though the man was a history major instead of someone with a math or engineering background, such things didn't mean much in combat. The fact that he was a history major led his squadron mates to give him the call sign “Guru” and it had stuck.
1st Lt. Matt Wiser and the rest of the flight were sitting in the briefing room that they would've used for their Red Flag hops, but now were planning real combat missions. In between the four missions he'd flown the previous day, he'd managed to call his family in Central California, and they were okay for now. Satisfied with that, he threw himself full bore into doing the job he'd signed up to do: fly fighters.
Guru noticed the CO coming in and he was the first to call “CO on the deck!” and everyone stood to attention.
Colonel Johnson waved everyone to sit. “As you were, guys. The shooting's started, so we can cut out a lot of this standing up and down business.” Then he motioned everyone to join him around a planning table. “Here's our frag order: Nogales Airport. We get four Weasels, a Navy Prowler, and two Vipers from the 474th for TARCAP. That's it.”
Everyone looked at each other. Then Capt. Dale Reese, who was #3, said, “I guess we're lucky to get that, Sir?”
“You've got that right: too many missions and not enough assets. Everyone who can is screaming for tac air, even if they can't get it right away. Before I came here, I heard somebody say that they were going to put MER bomb racks on some F-15s; they need anything and everything that can carry bombs.” Colonel Johnson told his men.
Guru spoke up; “Colonel, it's that bad?”
“Yeah, Lieutenant, it's that bad.” He went on, “Now, here's the target. Nogales Municipal Airport. The Cubans and Mexicans seem to be using it for a supply base, at least that's what an SR-71 pass showed yesterday afternoon. There might be MiGs there by now: anyone remember seeing the MiG-21s and -23s yesterday?”
Everyone nodded. No one had been able to get a shot off, but Johnson had seen at least two MiGs fall to F-16s, and one that had tried to shoot an A-10 had overshot, and been hosed by the Warthog's 30-mm cannon....not much left of Mr. MiG, he thought. Then there had been the shootdown of a Republic Airlines DC-9, and the F-15s escorting them hadn't been able to prevent it. “The frag order's simple: wreck the airport best we can, and kill any MiGs on the ground. Any questions?”
1st Lt. Bryan Shaw, who flew #4, asked, “Can we cross the border, Sir, or is that a no-go?”
“No limits, gentlemen. This is all-out: not like it was in Southeast Asia. If you have to cross the border to evade a SAM or MiG, you can. And for sure, the Weasels will shoot at any SAM site across the border,” Johnson said.
“Colonel, anything on defenses?” Guru asked. His WSO, 1st Lt. Tony Carpenter, had been about to ask the same question.
“Good question, Guru,” Johnson replied. “One SA-6 battery that we know of on the photos, and probably some ZU-23s. And you can bet anyone who can is probably going to shoot SA-7s. No idea if the MiGs are actually there, but assume that they are.”
Tony Carpenter raised his hand, “What's our ordnance load, Sir?”
“I was just coming to that. Two wing tanks, two TERs with a slant-two load of Mark-82s, a full MER on centerline with Mark-82s, two AIM-9Ps, two AIM-7s, plus an ALQ-101 in the left front Sparrow well. And a full load of 20-mm,” Johnson said. “Good enough?”
Heads nodded all around. Then Bryan Shaw asked, “Colonel, what if we're hit?”
“Last item, guys: if you're hit, try and stay with the plane and get to either Davis-Monthan or Tuscon International. If you have to bail out, get as far east or west of I-19 as you can: the Cubans and Mexicans are sticking to the roads, and they're not going very far from them. That good enough?”
Heads nodded. “Okay, get your gear, and see you on the ramp. Wheels up in fifteen mikes, so let's get to it!”
Day two and Guru gets his first kill:
First Kill
Nellis AFB, NV: 5 September, 1985, 0730 Hours PDT
It had been a chaotic first day of war. The war everyone had thought would happen in Europe, was now being fought on American soil, and to make matters worse, New York, Washington, D.C.; Omaha, and Kansas City, along with the Minuteman Launch Control Centers in the Dakotas, had been nuked. Soviet forces had landed in Alaska, while Soviet, Cuban, Nicaraguan, and other Soviet-Bloc forces had crossed into the U.S. all along the Mexican border. While the invasion in California and Arizona was being repulsed, the news was bad from New Mexico and Texas. Word was going around that they might lose all of Texas and nearby states if things kept going this bad. That was something those who were from those states, or had family there, didn't want to think about.
The various Air Force, Navy, and Marine squadrons who had arrived for Red Flag 9-85 had instead found themselves going to a real war on what should've been the first day of Red Flag. Instead, they had gone down to either Arizona or Southern California to blast invading Soviet, Cuban, and Mexican troops, or to shoot MiGs and transports out of the sky. Now, with the Air Force starting to get its act together, the Tenth Air Force-the Air Force Reserve command for the Western U.S., had been directed to take charge of the air war in the Southwest and West Coast, and Red Flag's planners were now busy drafting strike and combat air patrol operations over the entire Southwest, from the Pacific Ocean to the Rio Grande and up as far as Colorado.
For Lt. Col. Mark Johnson, it meant his squadron, the 335th Tactical Fighter Squadron, would not be rejoining its parent wing, the famous “4th but First” Tactical Fighter Wing, anytime soon. Once a forward base had been identified, he was told, his unit would fly there and was likely going to be under Marine Operational Control, something he didn't like, but there it was. And now, his squadron was sending out two- and four-ship flights to the border, either for ground attack or to fly cover for the A-7s from Tuscon and the A-10s from Davis-Monthan that were in the process of turning Interstate 19 into a junkyard of Cuban and Mexican armor. Then a frag order had come in, for a strike on the Nogales Airport, just across the border from Mexico. A four-ship of Phantoms, plus a pair of Weasel F-4Gs to kill any SAMs, would have to do the job. Shrugging his shoulders, he went off to brief his flight.
His wingman was six months in the squadron, and though he had come out of OTS instead of the AF Academy or AFROTC, the guy had done well on the first day, and though the man was a history major instead of someone with a math or engineering background, such things didn't mean much in combat. The fact that he was a history major led his squadron mates to give him the call sign “Guru” and it had stuck.
1st Lt. Matt Wiser and the rest of the flight were sitting in the briefing room that they would've used for their Red Flag hops, but now were planning real combat missions. In between the four missions he'd flown the previous day, he'd managed to call his family in Central California, and they were okay for now. Satisfied with that, he threw himself full bore into doing the job he'd signed up to do: fly fighters.
Guru noticed the CO coming in and he was the first to call “CO on the deck!” and everyone stood to attention.
Colonel Johnson waved everyone to sit. “As you were, guys. The shooting's started, so we can cut out a lot of this standing up and down business.” Then he motioned everyone to join him around a planning table. “Here's our frag order: Nogales Airport. We get four Weasels, a Navy Prowler, and two Vipers from the 474th for TARCAP. That's it.”
Everyone looked at each other. Then Capt. Dale Reese, who was #3, said, “I guess we're lucky to get that, Sir?”
“You've got that right: too many missions and not enough assets. Everyone who can is screaming for tac air, even if they can't get it right away. Before I came here, I heard somebody say that they were going to put MER bomb racks on some F-15s; they need anything and everything that can carry bombs.” Colonel Johnson told his men.
Guru spoke up; “Colonel, it's that bad?”
“Yeah, Lieutenant, it's that bad.” He went on, “Now, here's the target. Nogales Municipal Airport. The Cubans and Mexicans seem to be using it for a supply base, at least that's what an SR-71 pass showed yesterday afternoon. There might be MiGs there by now: anyone remember seeing the MiG-21s and -23s yesterday?”
Everyone nodded. No one had been able to get a shot off, but Johnson had seen at least two MiGs fall to F-16s, and one that had tried to shoot an A-10 had overshot, and been hosed by the Warthog's 30-mm cannon....not much left of Mr. MiG, he thought. Then there had been the shootdown of a Republic Airlines DC-9, and the F-15s escorting them hadn't been able to prevent it. “The frag order's simple: wreck the airport best we can, and kill any MiGs on the ground. Any questions?”
1st Lt. Bryan Shaw, who flew #4, asked, “Can we cross the border, Sir, or is that a no-go?”
“No limits, gentlemen. This is all-out: not like it was in Southeast Asia. If you have to cross the border to evade a SAM or MiG, you can. And for sure, the Weasels will shoot at any SAM site across the border,” Johnson said.
“Colonel, anything on defenses?” Guru asked. His WSO, 1st Lt. Tony Carpenter, had been about to ask the same question.
“Good question, Guru,” Johnson replied. “One SA-6 battery that we know of on the photos, and probably some ZU-23s. And you can bet anyone who can is probably going to shoot SA-7s. No idea if the MiGs are actually there, but assume that they are.”
Tony Carpenter raised his hand, “What's our ordnance load, Sir?”
“I was just coming to that. Two wing tanks, two TERs with a slant-two load of Mark-82s, a full MER on centerline with Mark-82s, two AIM-9Ps, two AIM-7s, plus an ALQ-101 in the left front Sparrow well. And a full load of 20-mm,” Johnson said. “Good enough?”
Heads nodded all around. Then Bryan Shaw asked, “Colonel, what if we're hit?”
“Last item, guys: if you're hit, try and stay with the plane and get to either Davis-Monthan or Tuscon International. If you have to bail out, get as far east or west of I-19 as you can: the Cubans and Mexicans are sticking to the roads, and they're not going very far from them. That good enough?”
Heads nodded. “Okay, get your gear, and see you on the ramp. Wheels up in fifteen mikes, so let's get to it!”