In the briefing for In The Weeds, we are told that enemy forces have gathered and have inexplicably taken station up at apparently random points west of our current position. Furthermore, the enemy has an incredible aerial defense system set-up: multiple SA-11 batteries and way too many Tunguskas to count. An analysis of the data provided by intelligence has demonstrated a weakness in their battle formation. But the approach will not be easy. We will be required to maneuver straight down a series of valleys and skim the surface to the target point.
Hmm…if only there was an attack aircraft that could launch an effective low-level attack against overwhelming odds and still bring our pilots home safely…
Wingie and I taking off.
My wingman and I take off from Soganlug and turn due west, ducking below enemy radar cover, but not before checking in with JTAC. He gives up good bogey dope on a triple set of APCs and my wingman and I cruise in low to do some damage. The FAC coolly comments that there is a Zeus “0 nautical miles” from the BTRs. Something to keep an eye out for.
While fencing in I turn on the targeting pod hung under my left wing as well as activate the 4 IR Mavericks slung under my wings. The TGP pod begins its startup procedure while the Mavericks do the same. Looking at the flight plan on my TAD I should have just enough time before the target for the Mavericks to have aligned and cooled down.
The flight plan
I order my wingman in trail and we begin zig zagging through canyons at two hundred feet off the deck or less. Betty keeps bit.., er, whining about my altitude so I reset the floor to an uncomfortable 75 ft.
As we come near the target area, I pop up to 3000’ (about 1500’ AGL) then roll over, pulling towards the ground, looking for targets through my Maverick sensors as I level out in a slight dive. Enemy search radars light up my RWR, but I only need a handful of seconds to lock and launch three Mavericks at the targets.
During my run in, my wingman gets careless with his altitude and is fired upon by the multiple SA-11 batteries. Panicking, he climbs for the sky, dumping chaff and flares, ultimately a futile gesture. RIP, FNG.
Completely unphased by the moment (you gotta love your wingman, but this guy was a total ‘bot), I press with the attack and fire off three Mavericks in quick succession.
“Rifle!” (x3)
As the last missile leaves the rail, I bunt nose-over for the ground and break hard away from the target area – the Mavericks are on their own from here. The RWR goes blissfully silent as I reach the deck and I extend away from the target area for a few miles, still mindful of that Zeus.
I then turn back to conduct battle damage. I’m pleased to see three burning hulks on the fields. Now…where is that AAA….
Three for three
Coming around for Zeus
The Zeus finds me before I find him, lighting up my RWR. I look in the indicated direction and find him nestled against a tree line. The angles aren’t bad, but the distance is awfully close. The Zeus is just sitting there, silent and juicy, baiting me.
Here Zeusy, Zeusy, Zeusy!
Suddenly my fangs go out, and I jam the throttles full, pull back hard on the stick, and switch to cannon as I line up the shot. I pull the first stage of the trigger too soon and PAC stabilizes off the target – no good. I release the trigger and the pipper jiggles around the AAA vehicle as the PAC releases and the distance grows closer. As I calmly and smoothly bring the CCIP gunsight back onto target, the Zeus lets loose a hot yellow stream my direction. I jink up slightly, the shots barely missing my underside, then put the nose back on target and squeeze the trigger in a short burst. Before I release I know my shots are going to go long.
A bad place to be with fangs out
I’m too close now, a break turn will just expose my belly, so I focus on nothing other than stapling that pipper on the rapidly growing hulk on my windscreen. It’s like a classic game of chicken, but with bullets. He opens up at me just as I open up on him. Angry yellow bullets tear into the nose and left side of my aircraft but I keep the pipper on him and let loose of another barrage before pulling off at the last possible second.
Bang! You’re dead!
As I scream just a dozen feet or so over the top I register secondaries coming from the top of the vehicle, but there’s no time to rejoice. The Master Caution alarm blaring and I instinctively check the troubleboard. The lights are showing a CADC failure as well as something going on with the left engine. Not a good sign.
The trouble board
A glance back over my left shoulder reveals a shredded engine nacelle with flames jetting out the back. Home suddenly feels a long ways away.
Honey…do you smell something buring?
I pull the left T handle and flick the fire extinguisher switch. Another glance over the shoulder and the flames are gone… whew! Another check of systems shows I’ve lost a bit of fuel from the left wing tank, but everything seems stable … for the moment! Time to get this bird home!
Even with its left side replaced with swiss cheese, the Hog flies like a champ, and I keep her down low, out of reach of the SA-11s. At least I hope so, since my RWR has gone INOP!
Holey Smoking Warthog! This Warthog is smoking, and it’s full of holes!
My landing back at base is ironically one of my best, although I have to engage the emergency brake system to energize the brake hydraulics to stop the aircraft before it rolls off the end of the runway. A quick shut down and then I hop out to go inspect the damage.
Most of the pieces made it back.
There are more holes in my aircraft than a teenager’s response to “Where were you all last night?” Just another demonstration of the versatile capability and sheer ruggedness of this amazing aircraft!
How do you do, in the weeds?
