The Double D's

[Slartibartfast 153]

My approach would be to unplug the comp, walk out into the desert with it, set it down and blast it with my shotgun and pistol.

 

Well thats one approach I suppose but then you would have no PC at all to complain about... and then when you do make it back to base after a mission (Without visiting the Twilight Zone (PC Crash)) you then get much more pleasure out of it all...

[Lt. James Cater 62]

 

Ok, so i finally got lucky enough to finish a mission without a comp crash.

 

They wanted to send us to Vihn again but i said "nothing doing" and so we were slotted into a strike on a VC base that was only about 30 miles away. "Good Enough" i figure and away we went. We had two flights armed for bear with max loads of 750 pound bombs and CBUs in anticipation of a juicy target area.

 

Of course we were wrong.

 

Just a bunch of tents and a few 12.7mm machine guns. Well, we got the primary target (a lousy tent) and three guns as well as a few other tents, but i got shot up while on the initial dive. The aircraft held up well seeings as nothing vital got hit. Sorta gives you something to think about when some rice farmer that's never even seen a course on triple A fire can put six shots into the cockpit area of a plane that's in a dive.

 

Guess i'll have to adjust tactics when i got out of the hospital.

 

Edited January 5, 2010 by Lt. James Cater

[MaverickMike 10]

Update on my latest pilot. Dead..... First mission into Iraq to strike the runway on an airfield and i got hit by 3 consecutive sa-13s. Decided to reduce the SAM threat i will be facing by flying an earlier campaign...

 

My new pilot will be flying an NF4+ Campaign. Here are the details:

 

Pilot: Klaus Von Richthofen aka 'Black Baron'

 

Klaus is a direct descendant of the great Red Baron. Joins 1/JG-71 'Richthofen' Sqd at the beginning of 1962.

 

Campaign: Red thunder 62'

 

Squadron: 1/JG-71 Richthofen (German Air Force)

 

Aircraft: CL-13B Saber

 

All settings on hard apart from campaign which is on medium. Supply set to limited. Mods installed are stary's hd tile repaint for germanyCE and the ENB series mod.

 

Wish me luck

 

Mike

Edited January 5, 2010 by MaverickMike

[Lt. James Cater 62]

Good luck on your campaign!

 

Just finished up a mission where the whole squadron dummied up and crashed. Will post details later.

[+Cliff7600 1,148]

Ens Peter J. Raczesky

 

October 9^th 1965

 

VF-114, CVA-63 Kitty Hawk – F-4B Phantom II – Take off 9.41 – Landing : 10.12 (crash)

 

Target : Noi Bai, CAP

 

Gopher 11 : Ens Pete “Linger” Raczesky / Ens Mark “Snake” Short

 

Gopher 12 : Ens Dave "Plumber" Amend / Lt jg Charlie "Robert" Maxwell

 

Gopher 13 : Lt Eugene "Ruler" Freckleton / Lt jg Kenneth "Pancake" Carr

 

Gopher 14: Lt jg Dorsie "Surgeon" Ford / Lt Lee "Injector" Dunlop

 

Report :

 

No glory today…

 

Gopher flight set a course to Noi Bai. Mission altitude was 11400ft but for safety, we climbed at level 40, because the SAM are easier to see and run out of boost.

As we were closing to Noi Bai, Red Crown told us to RTB so we turned back home to the carrier at level 5 and full speed.

 

Gopher 14 (Surgeon/Injector) tried to engage MiGs with no success.

 

An F-4 (Gopher 13?) and I were too close on finale because we weren’t using the same approach.

 

I made the unbelievable mistake of not waving off and we crashed on the deck. Snake and I ejected at the right time and both of us are unharmed.

 

I feel very embarrassed and I know that Snake is really disappointed.

 

LCdr Greer told me just “Don’t do that again, man!”

 

 

Good luck to everyone!

Edited January 5, 2010 by Cliff11

[vicar 1]

Greetings, Comrades!

 

On this, the eve of our ideological victory over the decadent and morally corrupt west. Lenin spoke of this day, and I am proud to play a part in its realization.

 

Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Sukhoi Bolshie. I am known to those in my flight group, the 179 IAP PVO, flying the Su-9, based out of Peenemunde, as Red Rover. Here is a picture of me, that you might know me better:

 

 

26 October 1962

 

The first blow against the American lackeys would come at Bad Hersfeld. Our forces were moving to strike there, and I was given the assignment of performing reconnaissance over the location. It was my first combat mission. In fact, it was the first combat mission for many in my group. We had been training for this day, and our morale was high, but we had not seen any action. The only pilot who had scored any kills at all prior to this was Senior Lieutenant German Litvyak, with 3.

 

It was my first mission, and I decided upon bringing Valery Lobov as my wing. It was his first combat mission as well. We loaded up our "Fishpots" with 4 extra fuel tanks, and I decided to bring 2 additional RS-2U (AA-1A) missiles as well, just in case.

 

Takeoff was a pleasure, even as loaded down as my Alena (the name of my Su-9. Yes, I named my airplane) was. I love this craft. Flying it, I can imagine what it must be like to be a bird. A very very fast bird.

 

We took off at 1320 hours and headed towards our destination. Everything went smoothly until I hit the entrance to the target, when I noticed the unmistakable shapes of B-57's heading toward the line, toward our soldiers! Well, this was exactly why I brought the missiles, I thought, and turned on my radar. I positioned myself to attack, and immediately got a lock on one of them. I launched my missile, excited at the prospect of bringing down one of those vaunted Western aircraft. Alas, my missile went wide. I began to turn for another pass when I noticed the airplane burning, and saw that he had succumbed to the fire of a comrade in a MiG-19. Here is a picture, so that you might understand:

 

 

Notice my Alena, in the foreground. Is she not beautiful? Are her sleek lines not a joy to behold?

 

I turned, searching for more targets, but even as I found one, he would spout flames and head for the earth, another victim of our universal superiority over all things American. This happened to me time and time again, until there were no more targets. But suddenly my wing, Valery Lobov, beloved son of our mother Russia, screamed that he was hit. Hit by what? I thought, and searched frantically for him. I saw his chute, and was relieved that he had ejected. I decided, however, that the time had come to go home. I brought my nose around to the mission target and sped up to 65% throttle. As I reached the target, Bad Hersfeld, and was looking around, performing my reconnaissance duties, I noticed the shape of a swept-wing fighter, perhaps an F-86, behind me and approaching fast. He was only about 1/2 mile out, so I punched my throttle to full afterburner and went to the deck. Of course I outflew him. It would be strange if I had not, no? Alena is the fastest machine in the sky. I watched him, and as soon as he gave up pursuit I throttled back and made a course for home. Of course my adventure was not over yet. My fuel gauge was approaching empty, and I was not even halfway home! It would not be good for the morale of my comrades in the 179 if we lost both airplanes in our first combat flight. I looked around me, wishing I had a navigator right now to tell me where to land, when I saw my salvation: Neeuruppin Airfield. Of course I did not know at the time that it was Neeuruppin, only that it had a landing strip. And land I did, on what must have been fumes. Have I said that I am in love with my Alena? If it were any other airplane, I am convinced that I would not have made it. But Alena did what I asked of her, and more.

 

So in conclusion, my first combat mission was a success. But I lost my wingman Valery Lobov, and only hope that he ejected over friendly ground.

[MaverickMike 10]

Great report vicar! Its good to hear things from the 'red' side. Good luck with your campaign

[MaverickMike 10]

My latest pilot is KIA. He was hit by AAA fire over bad hersfeld. Next pilot:

 

Nigel 'Bulldog' Evans

 

Flying for No.1 Sqdn RAF with the Hunter FGA.9 during Red Thunder. My last two pilots tbh, were not taken very seriously. I intend to do my utmost to survive this campaign however.

 

Mike

 

 

[toonces 4]

Totally rad AAR vicar!

[MaverickMike 10]

Im beginning to realise how difficult this is. Just got shot down on my second mission with current pilot. Im going to give my next pilot more thought. Will report on the details when decided.

 

Mike

[Lt. James Cater 62]

This was a screwy mission.

 

Was ordered to provide support to the Marines up by the DMZ so we decided to go in force and sent 12 planes. The mission went well except for the fact that everyone went Tard and crashed with NOT A ONE ever expending any ordnance before going in. Have to do something about the AI. As to the time spent away from combat? Got hit in early April and now i'm back in October. Talk about a lot off time off!

 

Well, looks like i'm off on another mission!

 

Vicar, nice job from the other side of the fence.

 

Mike, i figure we can go all the way provided we survive the first 5 sorties.

[Lt. James Cater 62]

I wonder if we are all jinxed!

 

Got an easy one for my return and it went nice despite serious light AAA and crappy weather.. The hassle came when i screwed up the landing. Chopped the throttle too soon as i was high off the optimum slope and just escaped oblivion by pulling up as hard as possible on the nose. Back to the rear once again!

[MaverickMike 10]

Ok my new pilot is as follows:

 

Stewart 'Rocky' Robinson

 

Flying NF4+ 86 campaign with No 439 sqd (Canadian Armed forces) in the CF-18 Hornet. Again all settings on hard except for campaign which is on medium.

 

Quick question is the 'no loadout change' criteria a rule? Can we fly without this as tbh the game, when flying the CF-18 in CAS role, picks 500lb dumb bombs rather than CBUs or GBU's. If its a rule then no problem.

 

Mike

 

P.S. LT im thinking of taking a leaf out of your book and spending the campaign cooped up in a hospital with some lovely nurses looking after me

Edited January 6, 2010 by MaverickMike

[Lt. James Cater 62]

I'm not sure we ever made anything firm about loadouts. I'm more or less fine with my given loadouts. It's the wingmen that i change sometimes so they can perform decently at best.

[MaverickMike 10]

Ok. Well if I have any CAS missions then I will change my loadout. If not then I won't. I do add fuel tanks aswell if I feel im going to need them. This is ok right?

 

Mike

[Lt. James Cater 62]

Hit Vihn and got out alive!

 

It seems the key to survival on strikes up North is to get the best possible timing and come in high for the steepest angle on a dive bomb approach.

 

We did good this time. The flak didn't pay attention to us until we were well into our dives and we managed to escape the reach of intense AAA on the way out. Good thing they don't slot us into strikes further north. Things are tough enough as it is dealing with the Vihn area.

 

 

Feels nice to be promoted after all the hassles. Things are really looking up.

[MaverickMike 10]

Congrats Lt. My first mission in the CF-18 was also a success. CAP over Hamburg. Got home safely after expending all ammunition and NO KILLS!!!!!!

 

Mike

[vicar 1]

Greetings, Comrades!

 

It is two days since last I spoke with you, and there is much to tell you about!

 

27 October 1962

 

The day started slowly, and we were all itching to get our new missions. At 1030 hours myself, Matus Boytzov and the Smirnov brothers, Donat and Fedya, were scrambled. There was a flight of inbound bombers, heading to Juterborg! It was our duty to intercept them, and destroy them before they reached their target.

 

Takeoff was uneventful, as was the flight. We made good time, rose to 16000 feet, and waited. My skin crawled, I was so anxious. My eyes, constantly straining to see our targets on the horizon, began to ache. But it was worth it, comrades!

 

Time itself, that constant of motion, demanded that eventually we locate our targets, and we did. They were not so terribly far away from where we were being directed to look for them. I ordered the flight to drop tanks and engage the enemy. I, in turn, turned on my radar and positioned myself behind the right-most airplane. They were huge! So much bigger than the B-57's that I had such ill luck against on my first mission. There was only one thing they could be: B-52's! Two of them. What do you Americans and your love for acronyms call them? BUFFs? Big Ugly Fat F***ers? Now, I thought, was a target for which my Alena was designed to fight!

 

I positioned myself, seeking a lock, but no lock came. I crept ever closer, and I began to get a suspicion that one of my comrades would shoot them down before I even got the chance. I looked around for my brethren, and saw them keeping pace with me, although Donat was definitely moving in for the kill above me. Steady, I thought to myself. Keep your eyes on the prize. Still no lock. I switched to boresight mode, and guessed my distance to be about two miles away. It is so difficult to judge distance when your target is so big!

 

Still no lock. I switched to my R-55 missiles (AA-1C). HA! A lock! Wait, no, that is Donat swooping low behind my target. Damn! Good thing that these are heat-seeking missiles, eh, comrades? A tone! Donat was too close to be entirely comfortable with the shot, but I took it anyway. I thought, which would my missile prefer, the heat of a little Fishpot, or the four giant engines of a BUFF? And I was right! I saw the explosion, and the giant heading toward the ground. I could hear Donat cursing over the comm. I do not know if he was frightened by my missile, or angry that I took a kill he thought was his, or both. Probably both (it was not until after we landed that it was revealed that Donat had been hit and wounded by the Ugly Fatty's rear guns).

 

 

 

 

As much as I wanted to watch the Big Ugly smash into the unforgiving earth, I forced myself to seek the second one, and again positioned myself behind him. This time none of my flight was in my way. This time I got a lock immediately, and tone as well. Fire!

 

 

 

 

Again, a kill!

 

I watched for a moment as he plummeted, and then ordered my flight back into formation and headed for home. The return trip was not nearly so long as it was reaching the target. I was so giddy, I didn't notice Germany passing beneath me, and before I knew it I was back, on the ground.

 

Although, it must be stated, that I again landed on fumes. If I were not so high on victory I would be concerned for the future. There are only so many times that you can push the limits, comrades. It is sobering to think how close I have come, twice now, to not making it back home.

 

But, I am a hero to my squadron! I have scored the first kills in the 179 of this war, and what kills they were!

 

The Lieutenant Colonel does not agree, and does not give his approval. We were too late, and the BUFFs had already bombed their target. Because of our tardiness, some of our Soviet brothers in arms no doubt paid with their lives.

 

Bah. Such is war. Tonight we celebrate victory! Tonight is vodka!

 

 

 

28 October 1962

 

I awoke today with a hangover, but I did not mind. Not only had I scored two victories, but word came over breakfast that our forces had liberated Fulda from the American Imperialists.

 

Following breakfast I received my orders. I was put on Combat Air Patrol over our home base of Peenemunde at 12 noon. The flight was four strong: myself, Junior Lieutenant Matus Boytzow as my wingman, Senior Lieutenant German Litvyak as number three, and Senior Lieutenant Semyon Gerasimenko as his wing. I was filled with pride as I climbed into the familiarity of my Alena; there were only two pilots now that had scored kills (myself with two and German with three), and we were both on this flight!

 

I still had a bottle of vodka that was given to me in appreciation of my two kills last night, and I bribed the weapons manager with it. I had such success with the R-55 last flight, why change a good thing? I would load up with all 4 R-55s this time. HA! Watch out, American flying swine!

 

It was such beautiful, clear day, nothing could go wrong. We climbed to 10000 feet and I began whistling Rimsky-Korsakov. You may not think much of it, but if you have never tried to whistle "Flight of the Bumblebees", you should think again! Soon, we were all whistling merrily over the comms when Matus called out targets, just over twenty miles away.

 

I ordered our flight to engage, dropped tanks, and went full afterburner to engage. Soon I will have even more Americans killed, I thought, and turned on my radar. I set it right away to boresight mode, not even bothering with the search mode that refused so stubbornly to give me a lock last time.

 

I positioned myself behind them and began my approach. I was no more than 1.5 miles out, maybe even as little as 1 mile, and could neither get a lock nor a tone, when they suddenly spotted us and began to turn sharply. That was when I noticed that they were swept-wing aircraft of some sort. Maybe the infamous American F-86?

 

Soon we were turning, turning, myself on full afterburner in order to keep my speed up, not able to turn with these fiendish devils that seemed to be everywhere. German started calling out that he had one on his six just as I noticed the enemy chasing him. I turned into him to give pursuit (as the devil gave pursuit and I was in turn pursued) and got a lock and tone. Fire! The enemy did not react to my missile launch, but instead continued his harassment of Senior Lieutenant Litvyak. My missile went wide. I still had lock and switched to another missile and got tone immediately and launched. Again he ignored me, and again I missed! Perhaps he was turning too hard, I thought, and gained altitude. I came around for a level and straight shot. Just as I re-acquired the target I saw Senior Lieutenant Litvyak burst into flames. There was no parachute, either. It was only a small comfort that my missile found its target in a righteous display of furious vengeance, as we had just lost our only other kill-scoring pilot.

 

 

Being so intent on watching the missile head towards its target, I finally noticed the markings on the enemy planes. These were not Americans, as I had first thought. These were even worse. They were the unwitting slaves of the Americans, the West Germans! That would make their planes not the F-86K, but rather the German CL13 Saber variant, armed with missiles!

 

 

Of course I realized this just as my faithful wingman Matus Boytzow called out a missile launch. I had been so intent on the enemy in front of me that I had forgotten about the enemy behind! Thinking quickly, I immediately cut my afterburner and began a sharp turn. I didn't know if these missiles were radar-guided or heat-seeking, but it would be prudent to cut the source of heat just in case, no? One American missile went wide. HA! I knew that the American missiles were over-rated.

 

 

Of course, I did not have time to get comfortable before Matus yelled out a missile launch again! Thankfully, again it went wide.

 

 

But wait, again Matus calls out a missile launch! Again I turn and again. It is not enough. If I were not convinced of the truth of Lenin's words, I might be convinced of this as a sign of a divine hand at work. What are the odds, that just as my third missile of vengeance found its mark, the West German puppet's third missile would also find its victim, me?

 

Luckily, I knew that there was no escaping this one. I could see it coming straight for me as I turned, and I was able to parachute away in time. A close run thing indeed!

 

 

I landed safely, but my beautiful Alena did not. I like to think that it was because of her that I survived, that while she could not out-turn that damned American missile, she let me see it coming, and got me out in time. I like to think that she gave herself for me.

 

The 179 suffered a grievous loss today, comrades. We not only lost two of our limited supply of Su-9 airplanes, but we also suffered the death of one of our best pilots, Senior Lieutenant German Litvyak. Not to mention that there is still no word of Junior Lieutenant Valery Lobov, my wingman from the very first sortie.

 

Tonight we honor the dead and the lost, and wish them safe passage. Tonight is a night for vodka.

[+EricJ 4,244]

Nice story vicar

[xclusiv8 35]

Vicar!!!! :drinks:You da man!

 

What campaign are you playing? I was not aware one could play as the red side. I myself still havent started my campaign. Cant get NF+ to work with the latest patch :( Anyone know where i can find the solutions to some of the problems??

Edited January 7, 2010 by xclusiv8

[Slartibartfast 153]

Well turns out Fred's injuries are only light so back on the flight line today... hitting a warehouse near Hanoi... hope the Hilton's closed to me today.

 

4 Ship A-4e's loaded with various bombs from 500lb's to 1000lb er's

 

Take of was fine weather sunny with light clouds coasted in and no escort anywhere oh well looks like we do this the hard way... found out after we returned our escort was re-tasked to protect a bunch of B-52's which where pounding some trees about 50 miles south of us.

 

Went to 90% throttle as we coasted in at 16000ft at IP wingie and me dropped low-level while 3 and 4 stayed high as they looked for anything that might threaten us on the ground... I went in and dropped my 4 750lber's retarted at 500ft flattening a pair of buildings and my wingie dropped his onto the warehouse flattening that one. 3 & 4 at this point went to harrass a SAM site and completely wiped it out Radar SAM Launchers you name it if it was there before it aint there now I Checked on my way out... Thats when a pair of Mig-17's rolled in and before anyone knew it my number 2 was headed to the Hilton... Me I cleaned the jet off and went in hot pursuit right over Hanoi and a Firecan radar decided to lock me up and I had that rattler on the gear all over followed by the flak everything including the kitchen sink... Ducked and dived while still closing on the Mig that took my wingie got to around half a mile and fired the guns (Who said Phantoms are great) and took his right wing clean off. It was then my turn to be hunted by his wingman very aggressive fight went from 200ft all the way to 15000ft and damn was it busy... I eventually got him out in front of me and the guns have JAMMED perfect sight the works and what do I get a pair of clicks... At this point it was hometime so dived down to 500ft and ran for the sea still with a rattler on the ECM gear...

 

Went feet wet with no hassle's and got a 3 okay wire on landing...

 

Also got promoted !!! Now who had that bright idea???

 

[vicar 1]

Thanks for the compliments, guys.

 

@ xclusiv8 - I'm flying a Nato Fighters 4 campaign, with some small modifications made by myself (a Soviet-flyable campaign, the addition of B-52s as proper targets for the high-altitude Sukhoi interceptors, and the reduction of starting-campaign unit experience from 100 to something a little more realistic).

 

I like to play everything on hard settings because it boosts my ego, but after testing the Nato Fighters 4 campaign for some time, I've realized that certain custom airplanes are almost certainly designed for a normal flight model settings, so I'm playing flight model on normal with non-stock planes. I realized this after getting frustrated in both the Su-9 and MiG-21 originally, and then trying out the F-102 Delta Dagger and not even being able to turn in a complete circle on Hard. It just didn't seem quite right to me. Now it does. I don't know if it's just the delta-wing craft or what, but oh my God were they awful to try to fly.

[+Cliff7600 1,148]

Ens Peter J. Raczesky

 

October 12 1965

 

VF-114, CVA-63 Kitty Hawk – F-4B Phantom II – Take off 10.55 – Landing 11.38

 

Target : Kep, Escort Austin flight (4 F-8 VF-154 Black Knight)

 

3 MiG-17

 

Tomahawk 11 : Ens Pete “Linger” Raczesky / Lt Cole "Despair" Carr

 

Tomahawk 12 : Ens Jack "Taylor" Floyd / Lt Donald "Bull" Bruning

 

Tomahawk 13 : Lt Lt Samuel "Indian" McCoy / Lt jg Bud "Daisy" Ketchie

 

Tomahawk 14: Lt jg Clinton "Breaker" Irwin / Ens Charles "Vulture" Vohden

 

Report :

 

We have had the congratulations from LCdr Greer but I’m not proud of me.

 

Yet, I’m rejoicing with my mates for their success.

 

This time, my Naval Flight Officer was Lt “Despair” Carr. LCdr Greer asked him to evaluate my abilities to lead a flight and, to land safely.

Despair told me not to worry about that because he was with me mainly to secure the landing pattern.

 

Our mission was to provide an escort to Austin flight, 4 VF-154 F-8 Crusaders from USS Coral Sea (CV-43), they were tasked to bomb Kep airfield.

 

We missed by far our rendez-vous and Austin flight have entered the DZ without us.

 

We climbed to level 30 to avoid SAM and gain speed.

 

There were dogfights everywhere but I didn’t manage to lead my flight to engage bandits. We finally met MiG-17 at level 15 near Kep.

I fired 2 AIM-7E then 2 AIM-7D at the MiG that we engaged with Tomahawk 12 (Taylor/Bull).

I tried to lock on him a Sidewinder and fired two AIM-9D, but with no result. As I was trying a third shot, Taylor got him with a Sidewinder.

Good shot, man!

 

I called Tomahawk flight to rejoin for an egress to the North.

 

As Tomahawk 13 and 14 was joining up, a MiG-17 went between them. I made a turn toward them and ordered to engage the bandit.

Tomahawk 14 (Breaker/Vulture) took him out, it was their second kills of the day.

 

Tomahawk flight joined up North of Hong Gai and we headed to the carrier.

 

The landing pattern : I almost lost the control of my F-4 on the first turn and, as I was trying to recover, I heard Despair yelling “What the …. are you doing? You’re trying to kill me!”

 

Hopefully, the bird did what I asked her to do, and I made a good landing on the first attempt. Despair didn’t say a word when we left the plane.

 

After the debriefing, LCdr Greer told me “You seem to be a damn lousy pilot but you did the job this time.”

 

We celebrated the 3 victories of the day but I was reported that the VF-154 did have hard time and I felt ashamed thinking that it was my duty to protect them today…

_

Edited January 7, 2010 by Cliff11

[vicar 1]

Greetings, Comrades!

 

Again, it has been two days since I last spoke with you.

 

 

28 October 1962, after the loss

 

Today started as a not very good day. First, yesterday when we returned to our airbase at Peenemunde, we were told that we were re-basing to Allstedt. This would normally be good news, but you can imagine how I took it, after all that had happened. Especially when I was told that, as opposed to the rest of the pilots, who would fly their airplanes to our new home, I would ride in the bus with the mechanics! I was not happy, comrades, but strangely I did not get angry. There was no anger left in me, only great sadness. My beloved Alena, she was gone!

 

So I packed my belongings, which consisted only of, other than a couple of changes of clothing, a half-drunk bottle of vodka and the book Fathers and Sons by Tergenev. I climbed onto the bus and settled in, and began drinking.

 

It was not long before we were on the road, and it was not long before I was drunk. Of course, being a Russian man, and being drunk, are two things in this world that I cherish. The third was Alena.

 

I was eyeing my bottle of vodka, wondering how long it would last, when I noticed the weapons fellow that I had bribed earlier, he was also drinking vodka. My vodka! The last good vodka! Better than the harsh sadness that I clutched so impotently in my bitter fist!

 

He must have noticed me looking at him, because he came over and sat across the aisle from me. --Get away from me, mechanic! I roared, and tried to stand up. Of course I couldn't, and only succeeded in dropping my sad bottle on the floor, which rolled somewhere that my drunk blear could no longer see.

 

I felt, more than saw, a bottle being put into my hand. I looked at it, and knew right away that it was the happy bottle. I almost cried. What? You do not believe that I, a pilot in the service of mother Russia, could cry? I am a sensitive man, comrades. Besides, I said almost.

 

--We are all equal in Lenin's eyes, he said. --True enough, I replied. --Why did you ask for four R-55s today? He asked. --Because I killed Americans with them earlier, and wanted more, I replied. --That is what I thought, he said. You wait to get a tone, or a radar lock, and you fire your missiles as soon as you do, yes?

 

I must have looked surprised. What could a mechanic know of such things? --Of course I do, I said. --You shouldn't do that. --No? How the hell would you know? --Because it is not proper Soviet practice. --It isn't? --No. --I've never heard of this. --Then your instructor did you a dis-service. --You are RIGHT, comrade mechanic! My instructor was a washed-up drunk who wanted nothing more than to get back to his bottle of vodka! He was pathetic!

 

The mechanic looked at me and laughed. I don't know why he would laugh, but he did. Maybe he saw something funny in what I said. I don't know. --Then what is the proper protocol? I asked him. --Patience, he said. --Patience? --Yes! Patience is everything! You do not fire your missile as soon as you have a lock or a tone, you wait! You wait until you have both a lock and a tone! And then you fire two missiles, both an R-55 and an RS-2US!

 

The answer surprised me. Of course. It made so much sense, but was something that I would not have realized on my own. --Thank you, comrade mechanic, I said, and gave him back his bottle of vodka. Then I fell asleep, which is the only place that Alena and I can still fire missiles at Americans.

 

 

29 October 1962

 

I was awoken roughly. I looked around, bleary. I was still on the bus, but it was not moving. The mechanic had shaken me awake. --What time is it? I asked. --It is noon, he said. Or close enough. I stood on unsteady legs and gathered my things. I left the bus, and blinked in the bright noon sun. In front of me the Lieutenant Colonel approached. --You are scrambling, he said. --What? --You heard me. Intercept over Rechlin Larz. Your new plane is number four, over there. I looked to where she sat, and then turned back to the Colonel. He was already gone. I walked to number four, and looked at her. I reached out my hand, and felt her.

 

--Trying to decide on a name? asked the mechanic from behind me. --Yes, I replied. --Looks like a Boris to me, he said, and laughed. --I'm still half-drunk, I said. --Yes, yes. Give me your things.

 

I handed him my bag and climbed the ladder to the pit. I looked around, and saw Matus Boytzow in number two, flying my wing. I didn't bother looking for any others. I performed pre-flight and lined up on the runway. Before I knew it I was airborne, and ATC was saying its goodbye. I got on the comms and asked Matus, --Rechlin Larz, isn't that almost all the way back toward Peenemunde? --Yes, it is, he said. Boy it's a good thing we moved then, I thought.

 

The flight was silent from then until we hit our target and began scanning. It turns out my number three and four were Senior Lieutenant Iosef Sutzkow and Jr Lt Matus Klubov. I had never flown with them before. Before I knew it my wingman was calling targets, and we headed in. I gave the order to engage, but I was too fast and too close so I pulled around right away for another pass. B-57s again, flying low. I moved in, but Iosef was faster than I, and had positioned himself properly the first time. Before I even had a good target I saw one of them fall to a missile of his.

 

 

 

--Good hit! I called to him, and then concentrated on the Canberra in front of me, trying to remember what the mechanic had said. Patience. Wait for lock and tone both. I had them, launch! Two missiles, streaking toward the target. They both missed.

 

 

--So much for our good mechanic's principles, I thought, but still had lock and when I switched back to the R-55 immediately got tone. Launch! This time, I did not miss, and saw my target head toward the ground.

 

 

 

I scanned around for more targets but only saw one more B-57. Had somebody taken another? Iosef, the number three, moved in behind the last one and launched, but got nothing. We were out of missiles, and headed home.

 

I cannot say that I was excited by my fourth kill. It simply happened. Perhaps it was the mood I was in, I do not know. Perhaps I was emotionally drained from all that had happened over the last couple of days.

 

When we arrived back at Allstedt I immediately went to take a shower. Halfway through, the shower water went ice-cold! I cursed and jumped out, entirely naked, to see my entire squadron laughing at me. In front of them all was the Lieutenant Colonel, holding a wooden box, which he presented me. I opened it, and saw a Medal for Combat Service!

 

 

--The approval came through quickly, after your performance yesterday, said the Lieutenant Colonel. --Thank you, I replied, and for the second time in twenty-four hours almost cried. --Now put on some clothes, he said, and walked out of the lavatory. The rest of the squadron followed him.

 

 

30 October 1962

 

Today was a day of rest, which is just as well. The weather was terrible, and I was given a reconnaissance mission over Wunstorf, which I did without hesitation. Everything went smoothly, and I did not even see any enemy airplanes. It did, however, give me time to think of a name for my number four airplane. It would not be Boris, like that crazy mechanic suggested, but Bohdana! Yes. Bohdana. It is a good name.

[+suhsjake 11]

vicar, I just love your AAR's. They are so detailed and interesting, its like reading a good military science fiction book. Look forward to reading more of your short stories.