4. Vietnam II Read Free Page B

blow him out of the sky.”  The Senior said.
    “Casualties?”  The Air Boss asked.
    Everyone was nervous.  The B-52 carried a crew of six. 
    “No sir.  The B-52G was able to stay aloft as well, but its fuselage is severely damaged and its limping home.”
    “I want to know the moment that aircraft is on the ground.” 
    It was over.  At least for that day.
    We had flown over 1300 sorties of which 80% were effective with only a single loss, the F-18 from the Saratoga.
    It was not bad for the first day of the war.  We had done significant damage to their air forces.
    The first day was over and we had dropped hundreds of bombs. 
    The Vietnamese government did not respond through their channels.  Nothing was moving diplomatically.  In my experience nothing would happen at all and then when it did happen it would happen all at once.
    The news that night was filled with the so-called peaceful Vietnamese going to work and having their day interrupted by American bombers. 
    In total we had hit 800 targets to include the Hoa Binh Dam, the North-South Railway and the Da Nhim Hydroelectric Power Station which was totally destroyed.  When I left that night after thirty six hours on my feet the planners were making coffee and planning for more.  They would end up working all day looking for more targets.
    The Vietnamese would get no such break.  During daylight hours Tomahawk missiles from naval vessels pounded targets across the country.
    For now though the Air Force’s job was on pause.  The goal was 1000 sorties a day.  So far we were mission accomplished.
     

19 January 1991
     
    AIR ENGAGEMENT #10
    USAF F-16s vs. VPAF MiG-25s
     
    Major George Garfield
    F-16 Fighting Falcon Pilot
     
    “Bandits ten o’clock low.”  Lead announced breaking the boredom with thunderous words.
    We were escorting F-111s on a bombing raid.
    “Two,”
    My eyes raced to the skies.  I saw nothing.
    I stopped peering at the skies ahead and watched as my lead moved to wingtip distance.  Across the short stretch of air space that separated us I could make out his helmet and nervous hand signals in the cockpit.  His hands seemed frantic with energy and I saw the flush of excitement as he pointed.  I looked ahead of us, and squinted hard.  All I got for my efforts was an ache in my eyes. There was nothing but the glare of the setting sun descending down in the west.  There was nothing on radar.  His imagination had gotten away from him clearly. 
    Then I saw them!
    "They could be Navy planes headed in on a bombing run." he murmured through the radio.
    Even as he spoke the words, however, I knew that he was simply whistling in the dark.  They were at the wrong altitude and wrong place.
    “AWACs, Bolt 56 Flight, we are tracking two fighters north east of our position heading west.  Are they friendly?”  Lead called out to the command and control aircraft.
    This was a formality that was set in place to prevent fratricide.  We both suspected what the answer would be.
    “Negative, Bolt 56 Flight,”
    So there was only one answer.  They were PAV fighters, and the Intel Officer’s words about the PAVs not being stupid were bearing fruit.  Our air attacks had damaged the Vietnamese command, control and communications.  Here were two PAV jets tearing out to do something drastic about it.
    “Permission to engage,” Lead asked.
    For a moment or two I took my eyes off the two dots on my radar display rushing up out of the surface clutter and glanced at the F-111 formation clawing toward the target.  Ice coated my heart, and my throat became dry and tight. 
    “Permission granted.  Bolt 56 Flight cleared to engage.”
    “AWACs, Bolt 56 Flight copies all.”
    The wave of excitement vanished just as quickly as it came. A cold calmness swept over me.
    The dots on the horizon were no longer dots.  They had grown and taken on definite shape and outlines.  As I expected they were MiGs hugging the deck hoping that the ground cover