Rambler 1-1

well, somebody lost a bet. Or is no good at poker.

From now on, you will refer to me only as "Idiot", not "You Capitan". I mean - you know what I mean.

nom nom nom

well, the bathroom is the only place where most of us will ever really drop bombs on a regular basis...

1 2 3 4 5? Amazing! that's the same combination I have on my luggage!

er... Rambler. What else?

Careful you idiots! I said fire across her nose, not UP it!

Black Sabbath all the way. Gotta love the first couple albums. War Pigs, Paranoid, Ironman, The Wizard, Sabbath Bloody Sabbath and of course Black Sabbath itself have gotta be some of my favorite songs.

you mean like the "Pilot stories/adventures" thread under "Military and General Aviation" in the forum here? check it out, perhaps...

I haven't been playing very often lately, and when I've had the time, I've been a little on the fatigued side. I'm gonna make my next one better, for sure. As soon as I get the time to do another mission... and they say that immitation is the greatest form of flattery, but being called "the Master" is right up there too! thanks for the compliments. Any suggestions on how I can improve, though?

that is some really damn nice resolution. Makes the Tornado there look fantastic, and don't even get me started on the bombs... VERY nice.

"Well boys, looks like breakfast today is a big hearty bowl of s**t soup." Oh boy. What a way to start a briefing. It was hardly 5 in the morning, the desert was as cold as siberia and we had woken up to bad news. "It seems," our briefing officer told us, "that our recent escapades into the south have not been taken kindly." We had been flying SEAD missions with our F-4Cs for a few weeks now, and despite a squadron of only 8 planes, we had been doing well clearing up SAMs and big guns, as well as some zippers, for the Navy strikes. "So yesterday, Paran brought in a squadron of 20 MiG-17s. We don't think they have any weapons aside from guns, but they might be planning a little trip over some important areas today. That's why you're all awake. Today, you fly MiG CAP." Stunned silence from the group. We only had 4 planes operational, and despite having the requsition Air to Air weapons (AIM-7Es and AIM-9Bs and gun pods), we had no idea that we'd ever use them. We were bomber pilots. We hadn't even used our radars for anything more then ground mapping. "You'll all get a load of 4 Sparrows, 4 sidewinders and a gun pod. Remember to use your advantages, and as soon as you lose them, run. Those MiGs are quick and those pilots are good. Also, no drop tanks, so watch your fuel." After the full mission, weather (clear) and expected air defence (the last thing we were thinking about) briefings, we were suited up and marched out. The Phantoms looked much happier carrying missiles only, and they leapt off the ground like homesick angels. The flight out was filled with grumbles as RIOs figured out the air to air radar functions. Fortunately, all the radars worked, to some degree. Not 20 minutes into the flight north, Red Crown informed us that there were 8 MiG-17s (estimated) heading north about 40 miles in front of us, at half our speed, and at low altitudes. "Rio, go them?" "yes and no. This bitch won't lock on." I saw on my screen that we had contacts about 30 miles ahead, but the return was weak, and every time Rio tried to lock on, he lost it. "Ford flight, anybody got a good lock?" "Three's got it." "Four's got it" "okay, three and four, fire away." "Fox one." "Fox one" two snakes of smoke straked away, followed shortly by another two. "Ram, I got a lock." "Fox one" I fired a sparrow, then another a couple seconds later. No hits, yet. "three and four, you take the west. Two, stick with me." "(*click*)" "(*click*)" "(*click*)" we split up and climbed to 10 thousand feet. The Migs were in a defensive circle a couple thousand feet below us, and were beginning to converge on the other two phantoms. "well, two. Should we go save their lives?" "Let's." We rolled in in unison, as two MiGs turned around and climbed to meet us. The radar was boresighted and I let go of a sparrow. One MiG broke off and the other stayed on. "I got this one" "rog." "somebody get this guy off!" In front of me was a lone MiG chasing after a Phantom. I punched into burner to overtake as I switched to 'winders. as soon as i got tone, I fired one, then waited and fired another. The first didn't track, but the second did. Just as the MiG tried to deke, the missile detonated beside it's engine compartment and the majority of the fragments tore the right wing off. I climed up and around to get back in the fight. "Fox Two! fox two!" "four, break right!" "I got 'im!" "watch it! in the sun!" "ah s**t" "guns" there was a MiG coming across under my nose, going right to left, a couple thousand feet below. I pulled a quck split-S. THe MiG saw me coming, and pulled into a climbing right turn as I got in behind him. I punched into burner and angled to cut off his turn and line up for guns, but he was coming around too quickly. I flashed up behind him, vertically perpendicular to his path. As he continued to reef his MiG around, I came through the top of my loop with a little airspeed left and took an inverted sparrow shot. The damn thing didn't track, but it did make the MiG give up his head-on at me. I tried to get in behind him, but he was too slow, and rather then get caught without any energy, I rolled level, full throttled it again and climbed back up to see what I could. "One, three's bingo." "Ford flight, break off if you can." I was low on fuel too. Just then, I saw a MiG diving in on a Phantom. It was a perfect setup. I rolled in behind him, but didn't have tone. Before i could switch to guns, three flashes of green went by my canopy. "HOLY s**t RAMBLER" The setup was too perfect. I was really boned now. I broke hard up and right, knowing that I could outclimb the MiG that must have been behind me. I bled off too many knots in the turn, then climbed for my life. "two, get this guy off me. It's an easy shot." going through 15,000 feet. The MiG was still there. Ah s**t, I bled off too much speed. Gotta get higher... "dammit, get him off! I'm waxed!" There were two MiGs behind me now, it wasn't looking good. Through 25,000 feet, 170 knots oh s**t that's below stall speed dammit whydidn'tIcheckthatf***! Without a thought, I rolled the Phantom over on it's back and pulled up, expecting the "whump-whump" of 23mm cannon shells to tear apart my Phantom any second. It didn't happen. The nose lazily pulled below the horizon as the airspeed dipped below 70 knots. This plane was falling, not flying. falling. FALLING! Minding my fuel this time, I pointed the nose straight down and full AB'd the engines. The acceleration was face-warping. through mach 1 by 19,000 feet. Low fuel, i gotta get home without getting shot. Through 10,000 feet and going staggeringly fast, i started to pull up. By the time I was level, i was doing 750 knots indicated in full afterburner. The MiGs were nowhere to be seen behind. after getting clear of the MiGs, i pulled the throttles back for a 500 knot cruise back to base. Two and three had both gotten kills, but two wasn't answering. I was the last one in the landing pattern, and despite a slight crosswind, I greased the Phantom on better then ever. I landed with a full 200 pounds of fuel left, too. In the debrief, two was reported as shot down. the kills were three of theirs to one of ours. It was a smashing victory for us, a bomber squadron, but there were still lots of MiGs left. the next week, a squadron of 16 F-8s arrived, and we went back to bombing.

One of my grandpas (the Irish one) was a gunner in Lysanders, and he saw a lot of the French Resistance through pick-ups and drop-offs in occupied france. My other grandpa was a ferry pilot with the RCAF. He flew everything from Ansons and Fireflys to Halifaxes and Lancasters across the atlantic, and even saw a nazi patrol plane while he was taking something across. Never saw combat, but was current in almost every plane used in europe.

All Right! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE GUYS WHO HELPED START IT ALL!!! DRINKS ALL 'ROUND!

I just got back from a band trip to Edmonton (15 hour drive!), where one of our performances was cancelled because the school wouldn't let us in due to the swine flu fear. Just because there was one case in a ciry an hour's drive from here, doesn't mean we were infected!

my friend informed me that his neighbor is named Heywood. Heywood Jeblome. Worst name ever.

there is something to be said for the inherent stability of a high-wing design...

who do you think you are, George Costanza?

I'm not on facebook due to the fact that I do not exist outside of the worlds of airplanes and motorcycles. Everything else is irrelevant. With the possible exceptions of cars, food and sleep.

I like it! If they can ship 70 cats to the middle east, they could probably have sold us at least a squadron's worth...

you bet! If you didn't I would have. The person below me is running out of things to ask the person below them, as am I.

It's the EELS. they attack all the boats with thir HOVERCRAFTS and shoot down the planes with their LAZERCATS. Mystery solved. Rambler wins.

quite possibly one of the biggest explosions that the RCAF has ever made... I'm having fun taking on SAMs with my CF-4C. Thanks again for the decal, Spinners!

that's a nice one, Hinch.

Damn! Missed! Then I rolled around and went in for guns. Got that ZU-23-2 before he even had a chance to shoot back!