The crew chief double checked the new pilots straps inside the cramped confines of the F105’s cockpit, looked him in the eye and gave him the thumbs up.

The pilot, cocksure and ready to rock, did likewise. The last human contact in person before heading to battle.

As the chief climbed down the access ladder, he pondered the wisdom of throwing these men away so frivolously. This was his third new pilot in 2 months. The Thud pilots were the most bad ass, arguably the most cocksure and felt indestructible. Right to the point when they were not.

Young, smart, cat like reflexes and an amazing sense of three dimensional space. Despite this they were dying faster than his heart could bear.

Sure some ejected and were SAR’d to safety. But lately the proliferation of SAM sites, additional Migs 17’s and 21’s in the air and different tactics that took advantage of the heinous Rules of Engagement [ROE] enforced by shitbag politicians was taking its toll in out right deaths.

Operation Rolling Thunder was escalating into a slaughter. The chief wondered who of the 4 pilots would return. His grip tightened on the ladder as he rolled it away, muttering a quiet prayer, he hoped for a good day for once.

Call sign Vapor, spooled up the J75 Prat & Whitney engines, feeling the surge of power throb through him as the jet told him it was time to rock and roll. “Vapor to Ferret, system checks all green, standing by.” Lefty, and Trigger checked in also.

Flight Control, gave the pilots all clear to taxi, and they formed up for their take off. 64 feet of jet raced into the air accelerating to Mach 1.2 and headed up to 36,000 feet to settle into their flight pattern and rendezvous with their refuel over the Laos border.

There they would meet up with two F-4s and head to the mission target. The steel works were well North and East of Sen La a no where town in the hinter lands West of Hanoi. Formed up, they settled into the easy part of the mission.

Vapor: ” So Trigger, are sure you are right about these Mk-82’s? Your advice is contrary to the specs.”

Silence….Then everyone burst out laughing all at once.

Ferret: “Vapor, tell me you didn’t fall for the rookie cherry popper routine? The Mk 82 is not what you should have req’d. ”

Lefty: “Roger that Flight Leader, he won’t hit the side of barn with that shit…haha. Welcome to your first of 100 sorties rookie. Everyone gets suckered by Trigger!”

Vapor grinned. He probably deserved it, they had all given him the F&* New Guy routine pretty hard for the last few days. His head was still spinning at the speed with which he had been transferred from Germany to here. With the heat, the travel and the up tempo preparations, he had let Trigger get under his normally unflappable skin. Bastard, now he was likely going to ZERO hit his first mission. But from what he had been hearing from the Colonel, he ought to be happy just to RTB [Return to Base].

Vapor thought over the plan once more time. The four F105’s carried a mix of munitions and their plan was to come in on a combined High-Low run. He, Lefty and Trigger would run low, right at 4,500 feet in between the effective ranges of AA and the shortest effective range of the SAMS. While Ferret the Flight Leader and 2 F-4’s would rock high dropping GBU’s. Then all they had to do was avoid the exit flak, the Soviet made Migs and any unforeseen bullshit and RTB.

What could go wrong?

Ferret: Be advised I have Tac Net suggesting SA-2 and S-60 nests at 027 degrees on our flight path, course adjustment as follows;

Vapor, was thankful to the Forward Air Controllers who did their best to spot, and report SAM nests hidden along likely flight paths. There was nothing worse than the radar lighting up unexpectedly!

At the refuel they were advised that just the one fighter – Boomer would be joining them.

Trigger: Yo Ferret, What The Actual……just one F-4?

Ferret: Trigger, dry your panties, finish up your refuel and get into the game. Boomer lost BarFly this morning, but he is here. So shut up and sack up.

As they approached from the south the Thud pilots began to accelerate

Lefty: Taking fire, looks like 85mm small arms.

[game play note, looks like I should have attacked the squadron in the pre approach areas and drawn cards their too..poop. ]

Boomer: I see SAM’s approaching…

Ferret: Roger that I’m going mach 2, Boomer, you need to move!!

Booom!!!!

Boomer: That was close, forming up on your six, you can slow down now!

Ferret: Strange I’m seeing no bandits. Lefty, Vapor, you seeing bandits on the radar?

Vapor: Negative, no bandits but plenty of flak.

Trigger: Whoa, holy crap that was close, taking evasive action those SA-2 gooks are getting sassy down there!

Vapor – Making a gun run! Breaking off now!

Lefty: Wait, leave it….ahh shit never mind, I’m following you rookie, just because you don’t see a bandit don’t mean there aint one son.

Ferret: Taking heavy fire, evading, and course correcting. Coming in from 135 degrees. At 18000.

Ferret: Execute target runs.

Flak rocks the pilots, and their munitions drop away.

Trigger: Way to go Vapor!! 0 on target. What a perfect call sign!

Vapor: Roger that Trigger, save the thank you for gun run for the officers mess. I’ll do my own load out next time!

Ferret: Cut the chatter, lets boogie for base. [Ferret has accumulated 5 stress points]

Lefty: I’m having trouble shaking this missile, I’m getting too old for this shit. Heading to High Altitude and Mach 2.0

Ferret Roger that, Boomer, Thuds are out, see you next time.

Debrief.

“Gentleman recon suggests a partially destroyed target, this was a gravy mission and you did not destroy the target. We need to do better,” said the Colonel. Vapor looked around…All the other pilots merely nodded. This asshole was not there, but shit…this aint no gravy train.

He continued, “Now Im glad you are all back in one piece, oh and Vapor, next time you break formation for fun gun runs, I’ll personally kick your ass, and everyone knows….NEVER listen to Trigger when it comes to load outs.”

Ferret smirked at the Colonels remarks as he reached for another smoke, he noticed his hand tremble as he lit the tobacco. He dropped his hand quickly to his lap.

He had 60 missions under his belt. Can I handle this, and this team? The pressure was getting to him.

Ferret heard the Colonel change topic “Ok listen up gentlemen, this afternoons target is…..”

More soon