For over 5 decades my country and our southern neighbours have been best of friends. We even fought a great war against our western neighbour who sought to conquer us for our resources and our territory. During those years and the years that followed it, it seems that nothing could bring our friendship to ruin. Now, the people in the south have changed. They are looking for personal oppertunity, the chance to have more than someone else does. That’s all fine by me, as long as you buy and trade for the things you need. But the people in the south have been motivating themselves to just take what they need, to just take what they want. They’re looking to take what is ours. It would seem that yesterday’s ally will become tomorrow’s enemy.
Today I am starting up my plane to perform one last exercise before shipping out to a field close to what will be the frontline.
Taxiing out onto the active runway.
Airborne and enroute to the bombing range.
The practice target blends in with the terrain to simulate a more realistic scenario. Finally, I notice something on the ground.
Lining up…
Pickle!
Time was also spent one last time practicing dogfighting and interception techniques. After this it was time to head home. Load up external tanks and head for the front line.
Taking off for the last time in a long time from this airfield. Despite the fog I can still see the lake I spent some time philosophising at. What’s the meaning of life? During the coming weeks I’ll spend more time pondering the meaning of death than anything else.
Me and two making our way to cruising altitude. We have jotted down a series of ARC and RSBN beacons for radio navigation. But despite the fog visibility is good enough for visual navigation. We’ll be flying along the coast for a few hundred kilometres untill we’ll found our cue, a port and airfield near a large town, to head in a north-eastern direction towards our destination airfield.
For now the mission is easy. Keep the hills and mountains on the left side, and the sea on the other.
Impressive visuals as fog fills the gaps and valleys inbetween the hills.
We reached our waypoint. Time to make a lefthand turn and start setting up the radio navigation for our next waypoint.
One last peek at the sea below two. We won’t be seeing her again for a long time.
Passing by the ARC beacon. It’s time to dial in to the RSBN beacon of our final destination. A few seconds later, the RSBN lights turn on. The distance indication turns on as well, telling me I am 107km away from the airfield. The radiocompass tells me my destination is 45° off to my right. I exhale through my nose rather violently, this is not what I had expected. 45° offset to the right is the fault position. My finger finds its way to the left wall panel, and flicks a switch from ARC to RSBN. The radiocompass springs to life.
Much better. I take a look at my airspeed. About 750. I take another look at the distance indication. It seems I need about 4 seconds to travel one kilometre. I run some simple math in my head. 250 metres per second, times three is 750. one sixth of 250 is 150. I’m doing 900 across the ground. I pull the throttle back a little, press the big red button on my stick and trim slighty nose down to start my descend.
All lined up! As good as it needs to be, 65km away from the airfield that is.
It took a bit of squinting, but I can finally see the airfield.
Despite the weather being good enough for a visual approach, I decided to set up the PRMG precision landing system so I can visualise the approach should I need to land at night or in adverse conditions. Atleast there are no obstacles to worry about!
Touch-down! For the forseeable future this base will be my new home. Behind the mountain peaks, rising above the fog in the south, hides our enemy. We spent a few weeks at this base, studying maps and the terrain to look for landmarks. Every night, we listen to the broadcasted news. Every night the prospects are looking more grim as diplomats and politicians argue.
ALARM! It looks like the enemy finally made the decision to attack. Our SIGINT installations in the mountains detected their intent to attack an airfield due south of here. The airfield is not large enough to support fighters like ours but could be used to supply the frontline. While not technically a scramble, we’re getting airborne in a timely fashion to defend our airfield. A pair of fishbeds are already getting airborne and heading for the rendezvous point.
Orbiting while waiting for the rest of my element to get airborne.
On our way to the battlefield. Some Fishbeds will enter the battle area from high altitude to engage their fighter escort. Others like myself will stay low and try to engage the strikers from below.
Passing by the airfield we’re supposed to protect. It’s good to know we’re on time. We rush out a little farther, hoping to engage as fair away from the airfield, as close to the mountains as possible. My friendlies are starting to report contacts and my RWR begins to light up, it’s time to flick on the radar.
Wow. I guess this is really happening then. I look up into the sky, to see if I can spot one. I do, I pitch up to go after him, I try to get a lock but I can’t, the contact is dropped from the scope. I have to make a split second decision. I flick the IR/SAR switch into the IR position, and toggle the weapon selector in the 3/4 position.
I settle in so I’m sure I won’t lose the lock and squeeze…
Splash! or? Inconclusive? I’m sure it was a hit but the striker seems to go on with no problems.
A second R-60M seals the deal though.
Left hanging on a chute as their plane goes down. I’m starting to scan for more gomers.
It doesn’t take long to find one. I get on his tail but I can’t get a lock.
Woah! I was giving chase and all of the sudden he gets hit by a missile and explodes. I look around, who took this shot? There was no raygun or fox call. Was this fratricide? Am I next?
Suddenly, I can see the smoke trail. It’s coming from… It’s coming from the ground! The base defenses took him out. Quite scary, they only have AAA and a few IR guided weapons. If something would have gone wrong they would have taken me out instead.
The fishbeds that were high up merged with the fighters long ago. And some of them are leaking through to reinforce their strikers. I look around for targets when suddenly…
That guy has my number! A fishbed is giving chase but I’d be long dead if I tried to rely on him. I immediatly jink away.
He ends up on my six. Lose sight, lose the fight, but I simply have no rearward visibility at all. I stay slightly evasive and try to use my TWR advantage to get away from that Tiger.
There he is! But he is lagging behind to much now to go for guns. It’s hard to say but he looks winchester in terms of stores. The friendlies ended up cleaning him up. There’s not many left now, only a few stragglers.
The last one kisses the dirt after being hit with a missile by someone else. It’s time to RTB.
Passing over the airfield we’re supposed to protect to inspect for damage. One of the warehouses has been destroyed. The runway is intact. Time to head home.
On my approach!
HOLY! Does number 15 not know that the wind blows from the east!?
Despite the near collision, everybody made it home safely.
But this is only the beginning…