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  1. In other news: "Retired sweaty beats the tar out of retired force support flight commander."
    5 points
  2. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, where the fuck were these teachers when I was 17!
    5 points
  3. The model on the pointy nose side for MANY years has been to build "most" of the initial cadre from Patch Wearers, it makes sense for a lot of reasons especially as you move into OT. These days in an effort to run faster we run DT and OT at the same time, often while still settling on the final design. That being said if you are thinking of pursuing WIC just as a path to the B-21, don't! I was not the best Patch in the world but I was very good at finding (and eliminating), careerists who wanted WIC for the wrong reason. The Weapons School is far from perfect but it is one of the last vestiges of trying to do the right thing with regard to airpower and our Air Force. If you want WIC so you can teach, lead and mentor...SHIT HOT, go for it. The rest will take care of itself.
    4 points
  4. @argstarted the other thread about Gunships in Desert Storm and I recommended a war stories thread because I’m sure this group has some good ones. I’ll kick it off. Decmeber 2, 2014 Nangahar, Afghanistan Flying Draco out of Bagram and a raid comes down that we’re going to support and run the stack for. We weren’t doing hits every night but by dumb luck, I’d been on a few as we rolled through the schedule. As some of you know, they’re usually a bit hectic at first when the helo lands and then it’s pretty chill as they make callouts and not much would happen so that was what I expected. We brief up, get out there, get everyone checked in and ready to go. We had 2 Vipers, a Gunship, a few RPA’s, Compass Call a ways off, and the helos that had a couple DAPs and 4 60’s. TOT hits, all the sensors are assigned and I’m looking out the window and I see multiple 12.7 and 23mm open up from all along this river bank/village that were covered up until we landed (1). We haven’t even made comms with the ground force yet and it’s a madhouse immediately. I vividly remember seeing tracers crisscrossing the village and then under NVG I can see airburst going off above the Gunship and behind where he was (shooting at the sound). The assault force gets out and are immediately under fire. I had some young guys running sensors and a pretty weak swimmer (that got much better but he was a 1st Lt at the time and somewhat weak) as our CSO who, in theory, should be running the show in this instance but kind of locked up a bit and was overwhelmed. I started directing sensors and getting directive to get people sorting and finding targets. We finally get the JTAC on the radio and I unload the situation to him (overly wordy and crappy comms) and he basically tells me to run it because they’re under fire (gunshots and yelling in the background). I had some very good Viper pilots (2 Patch wearers I come to find out) and had them tracking targets, RPA’s on ADA positions, and the Gunship in close on the good guys. I started working with the DAPs and we would find stuff and they’d kill it. Time goes on, we start thinning out targets, the assault force is clearing the northern village and it turns out to be a dry hole so they start moving about a KM south toward the secondary objective. As they move, it’s more of the same with the sensors except we split to help the Gunship escort the assault force and to find targets for the DAPs with the other. As this is going on, I’m starting to realize that the timeline has gone to absolute hell and we won’t be able to support this whole thing so I call back to our TOC and tell them to wake up the crew that would be flying the first line of the day to backfill us (2). Every jet there worked extensions and Tac C2 worked tanker reflows and all that. The whole team came together to support the guys on the ground and we didn’t get any push back. Incredibly awesome teamwork and proud moment for me as a member of the USAF. While I’m neck deep in trying to secure all that, the ground force is moving to the southern area and enemy fighters pop out of VC style spider holes and engage them from about ten feet. By the grace of God, no friendlies get hit and they kill the enemy and continue to move (3). They eventually make it to the southern compound and start to make call outs IAW the ROE. I’ve got two bingos (one for JBAD and one for BAF) and know I’m getting close to having to leave. I didn’t want to go to JBAD because I knew our MX flow at the time we didn’t have enough airplanes to backfill our backfill (jet happened to be in phase) if I went to JBAD but I couldn’t leave until we had another Draco because everyone else was gainfully employed and I assumed we’d lose the Gunship at Dawn (Spirit 03) and didn’t want the ground force to lose their comm lifeline. Personal thought at the time was that this would take until about noon the next day. About this time, my good friend and his crew that got shaken awake and scrambled check in on comms and I start filling them in. I’m doing a handover and they show up and match sensors and see DAPs killing targets under our sparkle and we hand that off (an easy confirmation haha). As they’re making it, I commit to BAF and know I’ll be landing at min fuel but that’s fine. We are about done and their radios all take a shit and lose crypto at the exact same time that an assault force member gets shot and the ground force calls for an urgent CASEVAC (4). Our backfill has no comms and the ground force is relaying the CASEVAC 9-line in rapid fire to my aforementioned weak swimmers who dropped their nuts and did a picture perfect job and made that happen to get the helos back for the exfil (5). My backfill gets one (of their 10) radios working and takes the stack and the situation over and we get out of dodge. I run the numbers and realize we will be at emergency gas when we land so I coordinate to zoom as much as the mighty Draco can and get into a glide profile to enter a 69 mile right base. I call the SOF (A-10 guy) and tell him to get everyone out of our way and he worked with everyone to clear it out for us. He does it and I get cleared to the numbers and land with 78 pounds of gas. I’ll never forget that number haha (it also went up about 70 pounds when I reset the counter on the ground so I didn’t shut down and get towed back). We shut down, get back to the TOC and things are still happening but long story short, we got everyone back a few hours later (6). I’ve never felt anything like that and I was absolutely jacked and when I landed and came down off of that, I couldn’t sleep for a long time and was antsy hearing about the fate of the wounded assaulter because I assumed he died based on how it sounded over the radio. When I found out he lived, I can’t explain the feeling of relief and flush of emotions that happened. He was sent to Germany and ended up being paralyzed, unfortunately but he’s alive today and sounds like he’s thriving. Anyways, I felt like I earned that 1/20th of an Air Medal. 1. Turns out one of our Afghan allies let his Taliban buddies know we were coming and they decided to try to make this a Blackhawk Down scenario. 2. We didn’t have a backfill and a 4 hour gap from when we would land to when those guys would takeoff for the first line of the day to coincide with sunrise. The LPA and junior enlisted that were awake and running our graveyard ops absolutely killed it getting those dudes prepped, getting them food, etc. I was incredibly proud of those folks that didn’t whine or complain at all and just made shit happen. Draco standard. 3. https://www.army.mil/article/147892/1st_battalion_75th_ranger_regiment_honors_its_heroes The dudes that got the Bronze Star with V were for this part. 4. https://www.socom.mil/fighting-on-to-the-ranger-objective The Rangers that got Silver Stars above in 3 were for this part. True heroism. 5. Army helos were sitting at level 1 at JBAD and were there in minutes. They earned DFC’s for this deservedly so. 6. Later on I heard from that intercepted comms said something like “how are they finding us? They’re killing us and we can’t see them.” Over 25 EKIA and a great mission for SSE overall.
    3 points
  5. I think I figured it out? Your sexual desires for another man (me) have you conflicted inside. You can’t fight it, so you stay up on late night benders getting mad at God for making you that way. Edit: Let me know if you ever have an overnight in Orange County or LAX and we can meet up and see if you have the nuts to swing at me. I promise. If you let me know when you’re in So Cal, I’ll give you that chance. I like fighting. I like being punched in the face. How about you Mr. Army Ranger, B1 pilot. I wish I would have seen your punk ass in Diego Garcia in 2005 (during your second deployment), shortly after you jumped into Afghanistan in 2001. You wouldn’t be able to type or talk with that cocksucker you call a mouth. I also understand you live in Alabama. Where at in Alabama? I don’t mind going down there to shut your mouth. I have family down there. I’m sure they’ll accommodate me if you want to meet up? PM me and we can make this happen. I’m fucking serious.
    3 points
  6. So there I was, back in Afghanistan over a decade after my first trip in country. Not an American outside the wire, ROE so strict that pretty much all we could do is watch shit happen... JAGs/Engagement authority scared of their own shadows. Complete waste of money/assets, not to mention our time/morale. 6 months later, we dumped that place faster that your crazy ex-gf that keyed your car. Many who hadn't thought much of going to the airlines decided to make that jump because of that trip. The end.
    3 points
  7. Recreation with actual comms from the shootdown. Frank Luke did it....16 times.
    3 points
  8. Sorry for the delay. Sure, though it's the same generalized answer for most of the government actions that are broad-based. I benefit immensely from a peaceful world. My paycheck is larger and my goods and services are cheaper. I'm healthier because a world that isn't spending on war is usually spending on medical progress, as well as the discounts gained from the scale offered by a global customer base. I believe there are now several countries that are realizing they won't win the globalized world, so if we go back to polarized they can at least be king of their corner. That's going to be bad for all of us. While I do think it is inevitable, delaying it will prolong human flourishing. Conspiracies are only needed when the obvious answer isn't apparent. Who needs a puppet master? Russia and the West have been jockeying for alliance with the old Soviet countries for years, and Russia is losing that battle mightily. Add a wannabe-conqueror to the mix (Putin) and it shouldn't be surprising that this is happening. Did the other 100% of human history need excuses to invade and conquer? Russia would be occupying Ukraine if not for the US and the West. You might consider that more desirable, but I do not. The option where Ukraine is Ukraine and Russia is content with what they have and the rest of the world stops meddling is a hypothetical fantasy. I believe it was a misstep to rush the NATO courtship with Ukraine. Personally, I think NATO is useless, but a generalized alliance of Western-style countries is not a bad thing. Right now they seems to be getting a huge discount, though I suspect we are preventing them from any attacks within Russia. A seller can give away their product for free, until they decide not to. Either way, of course it's a choice. You are suggesting they surrender their land through negotiations. And stop trying to word everything others say to suit your narrative. "In exchange for killing Russians." What a bunch of nonsense. Russia is the one making a choice that is wiping out Russians. We are providing them a means to survive and defend. Whether or not that results in dead Russians is Russia's decision, not ours. They are two modes of survival here. Get Western weapons and fight back (on western terms), accept Russian rule, or die fighting Russia to the last person without help. That is a fucking choice, and like the rest of life, some of the choices are fucked. Interestingly, your position offers only the latter two choices, which I agree, makes it much less of a choice. Yeah, you get over that once you stop accepting the false choice they are offering you. Do what I say OR I will kill myself. But really it was always: Participate in my delusion OR don't. Often the threat suggested in the false choice is unrelated to the path you choose in the real choice anyways. I'm not trying to convince you of anything, because I believe it has been finalized for around 15 years now. Once the central banks unleashed QE, we lost. I like your analogy, because it fits pretty well with similar misconceptions people have about drugs. You don't just quit heroin or meth. Sure, there are a few much-ballyhooed examples of someone just quitting one day, but that's the exception, not the rule. We wouldn't have the "homeless" (i.e. drug abuse) problem if it were. Once you're hooked, there are only a few ways out: Something so damaging happens to you, at a point where you just happen to be sober enough to comprehend it, that you are scared into kicking the addiction. Very, very high rate of relapse. You are forced into sobriety by people with the power to force your actions through: Financial incentives (weak) Threat of disassociation (better, but weak) Physically overpowering you and forcing you into treatment (best, but only with very costly follow-through by the enforcer) You die. Now I've spent most of my life seeing option 3 as the best answer. I don't want anyone to die for the sake of it, but I'm not interested in helping people that don't want to be helped. But that was my false choice. Go broke helping them or let them die. But we were never going to let them die, it's just not what western societies do, so the true choice was Help them now (with force, if necessary) at great cost but with a better chance of recovery -or- Be their custodians for life later (also with force, and more often) at an even greater cost. So extrapolating that to global finances, the same options apply from above. But we are the top dog, for now, so no one can force us. But we are still hopelessly addicted, both the politicians and the voters. We are not going to kick this habit on our own. Option one from above would be the Global Financial Crisis. Didn't last long, and we ended up being less responsible in the aftermath. Option two would be the collapse of the fiat system, and the associated chaos that will follow. Option three would be us spending into oblivion, then being conquered. Option two is my bet, with three being unchoosable and one being a fantasy. So if two is the only option, positioning ourselves for that reality is the best course, shitty though it may be.
    2 points
  9. Meanwhile, we'll fry someone who served honorably for 20+ years for piddly bullshit.
    2 points
  10. There I was, I shot a lot of people, I came home...repeat 69 times. Happy?
    2 points
  11. 2 points
  12. This made me chuckle. Had the same conversation a few times, my response was generally "I think you and I have different ideas of what a dead end looks like".
    2 points
  13. Live look at filthy rn. There is no shortage of argument as to why helping the Ukrainians defend themselves against a Russian invasion is the right thing to do and in our interest as the United States. UTFSF in this very thread! No more feeding the troll for me. There is zero chance this guy is real, serious, and in possession of all his marbles.
    2 points
  14. Fun fact. The Herks that left there in 1980 headed to Desert One all weighed about 195,000. Herk guys will know.
    2 points
  15. I hope you’re right. based on the track record of this admin and president I’m not holding my breath
    2 points
  16. I think I've asked this of you before. You're the president and have free reign with support of congress for any decision. What is your strategy on the invasion of Ukraine and after?
    2 points
  17. They don't have to be an arch enemy. Life doesn't have to be that cartoonish. They are an adversary, and they are a bad actor. That doesn't mean I want to send the marines into storm the beaches of Russia, but it also doesn't mean that I'm going to pass on the opportunity of a lifetime to severely weaken an adversary, who has brought this pain on themselves entirely, at bargain basement prices. Just look at how much money we spent blowing up primitive terrorists in the Middle East, and compared to the damage being done here at a fraction of the cost. And we don't have to worry about spawning an insurgency that hates Americans, we don't have to worry about Americans coming home in boxes (volunteers notwithstanding), and incidentally, it's a righteous cause. Further, we don't even have to worry about adopting a failed aggressor like we did with Japan and Germany, funding their rehabilitation. The only thing being destroyed in Russia, other than a couple of pipelines, is the military. Which is completely unnecessary to operate in a globalized world. They are losing the very thing that destabilizes the world we always wish they would just participate in. Nothing is perfect, but it is hard to imagine a more favorable set of circumstances for the United States. Getting ahead is about identifying opportunity and seizing it. This one fell into our lap.
    1 point
  18. We've given them something like $20b so far, but it's really all about the accounting. If an artillery shell costs $500 and has a shelf life of 20 years, does giving an artillery shell that's twenty years old to Ukraine count as a $500 cost? IIRC virtually all of the early equipment we gave to Ukraine was either obsolete already or due to be replaced in a couple years. Stingers, humvees, MRAPs... I can write a report about how these cost X to produce and we gave them to Ukraine but that doesn't account for the fact that they were destined for the scrapheap. If you were king of defense appropriations, how much would it be worth to you if you could buy a magic button that crippled the Russian military for a decade or three?
    1 point
  19. I'm fairly certain all of us know exactly how you feel...
    1 point
  20. She doesn’t read well, it’s not her fault.
    1 point
  21. My music teachers were in no danger of being banged by anyone...not a single person. Lol
    1 point
  22. But at least the dates all check out.
    1 point
  23. Oh, you were just joking… yeah. I have never said America sucks. America is undoubtedly the pinnacle of human civilization. But it’s not perfect in that we’ve allowed our system of government to be led increasingly by corrupt leadership that are not acting in our best interests. You know, the expansionist imperial types who are willing to enrich themselves and expand their power by manipulating the gullibles. The types that want to crush their enemies, see them driven before you, and hear the lamentations of their women. You can relate.
    1 point
  24. I mean it was a bit tongue in cheek, but yea, I mean Hitler offed himself in a bunker like a coward and the Japanese emperor got down off his throne and surrendered onboard the Missouri. If they didn’t like it they should have been better at war Some of y’all are really down some weird rabbit holes about how America sucks and is the bad guy and it’s all a conspiracy and “they” want you to believe this or that. It’s just really strange on a board supposedly populated mostly by military aviators…
    1 point
  25. exactly what a gotten person would say
    1 point
  26. So basically, with none of us here knowing exactly what is discussed behind closed doors, you wouldn't change any of the support given so far. I don't think we disagree much. You can sleep easier tonight knowing so 🙂
    1 point
  27. you left out a lot LOL jfc baghdad bob
    1 point
  28. I mean it kind of has? We went from among the world powers but not the leader to the unquestioned #1, enemies cowering at our knees as we occupied their countries. Then we made staunch allies out of our former enemies (German, Japan & Italy) and helped unite Europe and essentially end great power conflict on the continent until last year. Russia rose and fell mostly without a shot and they’re an asspain now but as we’re seeing a bit of a paper tiger. China has grown up tremendously but they’re not there yet. BLUF: we’re still #1 almost 80 years later. We’re economically, culturally, and militarily the world’s most important nation. Not bad IMHO!
    1 point
  29. Lets check their Microsoft Office licenses before we go throwing around that phrase all willy nilly.
    1 point
  30. I don't know where you went to UPT, but if you think I'm an asshole, you must have had some really nice, fun loving IPs.
    1 point
  31. Got to get that inverted spin training in somehow!
    1 point
  32. When it comes to waste, I’m pretty sure China thinks the US can waste plenty on its own. https://www.foxnews.com/media/congress-1-7-trillion-spending-bill-includes-millions-gender-equity-climate-initiatives
    1 point
  33. Because of the gun door limitation? I would have wanted to capture and exploit as much of the payload as possible and hit only the balloon, not that a fall from 60K was going to protect the payload but 20 pounds of WDU-17/B warnugget slinging 200 titanium rods probably made a mess of things. Stand by for Block 45 ultra high alt mod.
    1 point
  34. Don't do the math on how much money we spent killing a dude in a mud hut in the middle of nowhere Afghanistan.
    1 point
  35. Filthy, I believe you’re having a hard day, and I don’t know why, but if you need help, ask.
    1 point
  36. Once upon a time, over the Atlantic Ocean, just offshore from the Outer Banks, an air-to-air kill was logged, a balloon. The end…or was/is it?
    1 point
  37. Had a SEAL in the backseat puke his brains out, but did a good job of getting it all in the two bags. However, 6.9 min later he’s flying and slams the stick forward into more negative Gs than I’ve experienced in my entire life…both puke bags and my maxed out piddle pack slam into the canopy, all three explode like water balloons and shower the entire cockpit in a rain mixture of chipotle burrito puke and gelled piss. Wiping off my visor was fun. Flying fighters ain’t all glamor!
    1 point
  38. Congrats to BigRed on his initial Solo in the U-2 on Wednesday. 🥃 He will be known as "Solo 1095". Not bad for an old Navy guy.
    1 point
  39. 6 posts in, and this thread is destined for classic status.
    1 point
  40. I don't know, but it's a wonton disregard of FAA regulations.
    1 point
  41. Dang, I’m hoping if my assignment is gunna take another 2 months to come through that it’s not also a May RNLTD 😅
    1 point
  42. We stand nothing to gain? From taking most of Russia’s pieces off the chessboard? From showing the Chinese how high invasion costs can be? From gaining valuable intelligence on how Russian supplied war machines work? From coalescing Western allies in ways we haven’t seen in decades? From taking the Russians out of the European energy game? Etcetera. Etcetera. Curious as to what you think are more worthwhile foreign policy goals?
    1 point
  43. @Danger41 The tactics examples you mentioned are all good stuff and the reason I get out of bed in the morning as well. Don't get me wrong I love my job. I love flying fast jets and I love trying to get better every day and improve how the CAF does things. Like you, I also have been involved in some meaningful changes on the tactics and instruction side. I also really really care about teaching the FNGs coming up the right way to do things. From an ops perspective I am 0% jaded. But there is a whole other side of my job, and that's the one I'm pissed about. I notice none of the innovations you cited have anything to do with queep reduction or admin. The administrivia side of the Air Force is kind to those who "play the game" so the only people who ever make rank high enough to change the game are the people who played it in the first place. You asked why I want specific directives from top level leaders. It's because I believe that's the only thing that will dismantle the queep empire that's been built. I don't need specifics from majcom/ccs about tactics or mission leadership or how to manage my flight. I want specifics because generic inspirational fluff does not make it down through the 69 layers of administrators to result in any change at squadron level. A perfect example of this: a few years ago when Debbie James was the secaf, they did an additional duties reduction initiative. Big email got sent out about it saying something generic about how we're going to get leaner and reduce add'l duties. Literally the next day I was appointed the squadron emergency management rep, and DTS AO. The secaf email and my new appointments email were sitting right next to each other in my inbox. The next one was some horseshit about looking for volunteers to run that year's CFC. I screenshotted it at the time because I couldn't believe the irony of these 3 emails sitting next to each other. But anyway, cheers. I'll keep trying to fight the good fight, get better in the jet, and the moment I can get chat gpt to automate the queep side of my job I will spread the gospel far and wide.
    1 point
  44. Just used the EFMP trick to find out I'm headed to Columbus!! Not sure of dates yet though. EFMP Trick (from @Arkbird last year) - Log into vMPF and click under self-service actions - Click on Assignments (while in self-service) and go down to the EFMP section - In the new tab, click on the "apply to change/cancel assignment - If this doesn't kick back with "MILPDS doesn't reflect an assignment loaded, click on next and choose any of the options then next again. This next screen will tell you what unit and base you will be going to.
    1 point
  45. I remembered another one – I went through my log book and realized I totally brain dumped this one. It’s both a shit and puke story, so it’s a twofer. A good deal materializes in an otherwise routine month teaching fledgling Eagle drivers the ropes while stationed at Tyndall. IP cross-country!! Tyndall is having its annual open house/air show over the upcoming weekend. A 4-ship is needed to do a fly-by Sunday morning to kick off the day. Since the field will be closed over the weekend, the 4-ship needs to be elsewhere until needed that Sunday morning. In addition, Randolph AFB needs a flyby Friday afternoon. Tyndall closes Friday for show prep so we have to bug out Thursday afternoon. Our ONLY marching orders: Do the Randolph flyby Friday and make a 1200L TOT for the flyby at Tyndall on Sunday. Easy. The plan: 5-ship (1 air spare for Sunday). 4 – C-models and a D-model. Personal shotguns and golf clubs loaded in bay-5 (behind C-model seats). The jets are clean since we’re in the BFM phase and we decide to stay in the general vicinity of the Southeastern US. We’ll hit Ellington field Thursday night and spend some time on one of the largest sporting clay ranges in the country Friday morning. PM departure to hit the Randolph flyby and spend Friday night at the Auger Inn. Saturday morning on either the Randolph golf course or skeet range (maybe both). Sat PM departure to NAS New Orleans (conveniently close for Sunday flyby). Sunday morning 1100L takeoff for 1200 TOT continuing on to Patrick AFB for Sunday PM bikini contest on the beach. Monday RTB. The somewhat short notice on the whole affair leaves many of the bros without a kitchen pass that weekend and we were unable to fill the pit of the family model. After hearing this, our young, single intel officer (we’ll call him Fred) decides he wants to come along and see what’s so fun about this whole cross-country thing. Since D-models are in high demand at the FTU, Fred’s opportunities to get some time in the pit were few and far between. Even though he does have a few sorties under his belt and he’s never actually barfed in flight to that point, he’s a little concerned about airsickness. So, he grabs a bunch of barf bags, just in case. We load up and depart during the second go Thursday afternoon. We do a little VFR tour of southern Texas and arrive at Ellington that evening. Pacing ourselves that night, we grab some Tex-Mex with plenty of beans and of course several drinks. We spend much of the time advising Fred, who (according to him) is on his ”first real TDY”, to throttle back a bit. It’s going to be a long weekend. The next morning, we spend several hours blasting the shit out of helpless clay pigeons and depart that afternoon for Randolph. Since we don’t have far to go, it is decided that we will drop into Wichita Falls and beat up the pattern on the way to Randolph. The IP leading us is a euro-NATO alumni and thinks the studs will appreciate it. We scoff but get overruled. In order to ensure we have the gas to do the flyby, we skyhook at FL450 up to Sheppard. It’s been a while since his altitude chamber and according to 5-Alpha, Bravo’s digestive system appears to be incompatible with cabin altitudes in the range of FL180. Being a newbie to the single-seat flying world, Fred has done a poor job of shit management and is paying for that oversight dearly. A rapid descent to Sheppard pattern altitude in the Texas summer heat doesn’t help matters. Once the pattern has been suitably beaten there, we climb back up to observe the curvature of the earth on our way to Randolph. At this point, Fred looks and (according to 5A) smells like a giant turd in a flight suit. We get the report that Fred has shat himself over the aux-radio along with a request from Five to “push it up”. The airshow gods must have had sympathy for Fred, because when we arrive ready to do our best T-clone impression for the crowd it’s about 300-1 and the show is cancelled. ILS to a full-stop and when we shut down on the TA ramp, Fred is in full sprint to the Base ops bathroom before the turbines have stopped spinning. As it turns out, it was a minor shit-fart separator failure as opposed to a full up evac. 5-Alpha pulls me aside in base ops and offers me twenty bucks to take the D-model the next day. Fred comes out of the head trailing “eau de-farm animal” and I graciously decline. So, the night is looking up, Fred promises to show up at the club not smelling like a 2-year old and we are beer in hand at the Auger by 1900. Fred is stoked. He’s wearing a (clean) bag in the Auger, two vomit-free sorties under his belt and the whiskey is flowing. Probably as a result of a few hours at altitude and his extreme exuberance over the reality of Friday night in the fast-jet business, Fred overshoots the OBL. We manage to pour him into his Q-room later and decide to let him sleep in while we blast more clay targets the next morning and play a quick 9 before we leave. Fred rallies by departure time but is definitely looking a little rough while we file in base ops. He curls up on one of the couches in a fetal ball and might have had his thumb in his mouth when we woke him up to step. The afternoon flight to New Orleans is very gentlemanly and requires no trips to the ionosphere which is greatly appreciated by Fred. 5-alpha even let him fly for a while and he tried his hand at route formation. Fred would take the jet and immediately start climbing or descending out of formation. The hilarious part was, each time he starts flying, he asks, “Hey, where are those guys going?” The cumulative effects of the weekend so far were starting to have an effect on him, however. He was looking a little green when we landed, but he’s still 0 for 3 on barf bag usage. The marine duty driver gets us to our hotel one block off Bourbon Street and promises he will be there in the morning to pick us up at 0945L for our 1100L takeoff. Keeping in mind, the only reason we are out on this boondoggle is to do the Sunday flyby, we haven’t had to takeoff before noon since we left home station AND we’re in New Orleans on Saturday night, we are all aware of the potential for failure. Everyone promised to set their room alarm clocks while we were sober before we left the hotel that night. We quickly forget our concerns and hit the Big Easy. Fred is a N’awlins virgin and quickly decides he really, really likes hurricanes. Two hours and 6 hurricanes later, Fred is a blithering idiot and his lips look like he’s either a local cross-dresser or a 5 year-old who has OD’d on watermelon jolly ranchers. Since we went with the liquid dinner option, eventually some of the bros get the muchies and decide some craw-dads are in order. The place we went first wouldn’t let Fred in because he was too blotto. Someone had given him some kind of blue drink at the last bar that I’m pretty sure was pure grain alcohol. Think about that – how drunk does someone have to be to get refused service………IN NEW ORLEANS!! After some food, the drinking continued (at least by those who could still walk on their own). Since I wouldn’t trade jets with Five, he directed me to split North and get Fred back to the hotel since we were all rapidly losing any ability to care for anyone but ourselves. Fred was fully established in the “I love you man” phase of drunkenness by this point. By the time we were getting close to the hotel, he had transitioned to the “Crank up the Enola Gay” phase and was ready to pick a fight with anyone who would listen. We stopped twice so he could hurl. The first time, he ejected what looked to me like three whole craw-dads. I started laughing at him because they didn’t look like they had even been chewed. At least the shells were gone. I can also report that even when mixed with stomach acid, primary colors work. The combination of red hurricanes and whatever the blue death drink was did, in fact, make purple. I got him to his room and even remember to keep his room key since it was almost guaranteed he would need to be revived before departure. We got back to the hotel at some point and that’s all I have to say about that. Miraculously, the next morning, all five pilots were conscious and ready in the lobby at pickup time. Fred was back in the fetal position on the lobby couch after being pulled out of bed still in his clothes. 0945L came and went with no sign of the duty driver. Phone calls began shortly thereafter to attempt to find out where our ride was. We had given ourselves a 15 minute buffer, so no need to panic yet. However, as the minutes ticked by, we were watching our potential failure at our one and only mission loom on the horizon. We were finally able to determine that our driver had gotten a late start and gotten lost. We bit off on the “he’s 5 minutes out” for 20 minutes like a bunch of hungover idiots….wait, what? Just as we were about to exercise the taxi option, the driver finally showed at 1030, 45 minutes late. On the drive, individual duties were assigned to each guy and those duties were to be accomplished at the speed of light or faster, if possible. One guy would file, two guys were the bag stowing gurus, the other two would pre-flight all the jets and Fred would strap in. We got the driver to attempt a new land speed record and he dropped us by the jets at 1105L. Screeching to a halt in the parking lot, we scattered to our duty locations looking like an indy car pit crew (on Quaaludes). The rest of the ops looked like an Air Defense Alert scramble but slower. The first engine started turning at 1120 and we taxied quickly after that. Tower let us takeoff to the east and as soon as One got on the runway, he lit ‘em and blasted. The next two hadn’t made it to the runway yet, I (as Four) was just passing EOR and Five was leaving the TA ramp. Time now – 1135L. As I crossed the airfield boundary doing 400 knots and accelerating, I got a boresite lock on One. He was on my nose for about 8 miles with 200 knots of opening Vc. I came out of AB to stay sub-sonic and was able to hold about 650 knots in mil power as we slowly climbed. Range to One – 7.5 miles, 25 knots of closure. You do the math. It took me until abeam Eglin to get inside a mile. I'm sure ATC was highly impressed with this 5-ship of idiots staggered out in a 10 mile long string blasting across the Gulf of Mexico. For those unfamiliar with the amazing array of air to ground computer power available in the Eagle, we could have probably done better with a slide rule. TOT calculations were limited to a basic set up. You could get a “time to destination” in the HUD to whatever point was in the steer to INS window. That time was figured using your current ground speed based on the actual conditions at that moment. Destination “B” was usually home base and as I lifted off and began to try to catch One, I selected that and the appropriate mode to give me the data in the HUD. While I was still accelerating, my heart sank and failure appeared imminent as I looked at the time to destination which read 32 minutes. Time now 1137. TOT 1200. Muthaf…..we are so, totally, totally screwed. As I continued to gradually climb and rapidly accelerate to the little known cross-country, gotta make an airshow tech order climb speed of 650 knots, I noticed the time to destination beginning to look better. By the time I stabilized in my race to catch One, it now looked like we might arrive abeam Tyndall with about 2 minutes to spare. Okay, maybe it won’t be real pretty but we’ll fill the square. Halfway to Tyndall and still about 4 miles back from One, we changed freqs in an attempt to contact the Airboss. For the show that day, the Airboss was a squadron pilot named “Hoss”. Now Hoss was a big fella and a little rotund, filling out his flight suit quite well. He looked more like a USAF version of Friar Tuck than an F-15 pilot. He would be positioned in the SOF truck acting as the ground FAC for the fly by. The SOF truck was equipped with the standard one each, UHF radio as expected. After numerous unsuccessful attempts to raise him after getting airborne, we finally got him. We could picture his round, smiling face as we finally heard his jolly, booming voice come across the frequency about the time we were abeam Eglin AFB. 60 miles and 8 minutes to get there. Holy shit, this might just work. “Eagle 11, Airboss… I’ve been trying to call you for 30 minutes”. “Ah, yeah, sorry about that – long story.” “We have a 15 minute rolex, I say again, a 15 minute rolex”. 5 sets of throttles hit the idle stop at about the same time as we attempted to save some of the JP-8 we had been spewing out the back like a fire hose for the last 20 minutes. Lack of closure problem finally solved. We coordinated with approach to hold in one of the MOAs to the west of the field since the flyby was to the east. Five held high as the 4-ship got into fingertip and tried to fly something that looked marginally presentable. As One was making his slide rule calculations and planning his final turn inbound for the run, we got another call from the Airboss with another 10 minute rolex. During this final 10 minutes, we got some additional info from Hoss about the location of the band, the color guard and the guests of honor. We were getting a pretty good running commentary on the situation and it looked like this would be it. Inside of 5 minutes to the new TOT and Hoss gave us an exasperated call indicating another possible delay… a pause and then….”standby”. Reaching the front of the MOA with no further word, One began a turn cold back into the area. All through this turn, he attempted to raise Hoss. “Airboss, Eagle 11” “Airboss, Eagle 11” Rolling out of the turn, pointing away from Tyndall, he was still unable to raise Hoss. “Airboss, Eagle 11”………..Nothing. Suddenly, a new, female, timid, non-Hoss –like voice came over the frequency. “Eagle 11, uh… this is Airman Jones…..The radio in the SOF truck stopped working and he’s running to a different truck……but, the music has started.” So many, many things flashed through my mind in the next few seconds. First was, of course – ah shit! Second was, who is Airman Jones…she sounds kind of hot. Third, was incredulity as I attempted to picture Hoss running….anywhere. The thought of his round, now red face as he huffed, puffed and pounded across the tarmac toward whatever vehicle might have an operable radio was hilarious. Last, was a little more complicated. You know the hero shots on display in the Squadron or Wing buildings with aerial photographs of the unit aircraft in action? Inevitably there is usually one photo taken on initial from the number two aircraft. Number One has just pitched out and is belly up to the camera, 90 degrees of bank about to bend his jet around to inside downwind. So, it’s a face full of aircraft belly a wingspan-ish away. Cool, right? Well, that’s what One looked like the instant after Airman Jones called. The only major, but important difference was Three and I were looking at the top of his jet, not the bottom and it was coming our way fast. So, not cool. He racked his jet up to get us turned around and I think both three and I saw our miserable lives flash before us as we bunted – hard - to keep living an extra few seconds. The rest was pretty anticlimactic. We flew inbound, never heard from Hoss, descended through an undercast and popped out a mile from the ramp. We did the fly by and never even knew our status. No one said shit to us when we got back, so I guess it was okay. We didn’t feel the need to share too much either. We rejoined with Five and started east. Weather from Tydnall to Patrick was total DS so we split into 3 and 2, got separate clearances and flew over there IMC. We had been so focused on the airshow issue, no one had even thought to wonder about Fred. Since I was leading Five now, I had a few brain cells left on life support and began to wonder how he was doing. I looked over at him and he gave me a thumbs up - so I guess, okay. We had a way to go and if Five felt like I did, the last thing he was going to want was 30 minutes in fingertip in the weather, so I cleared him to drag back to radar trail. That decision was critical for Fred. I’m no expert on the workings of the inner ear, but I can say, in Fred’s case, having another aircraft for attitude reference is a good thing. Pulling the power, popping the boards, deceleration, acceleration, all while IMC and making the aircraft for reference go away?….bad…..very, very bad. I’m sure the aftereffects of his first night on Bourbon street as well as the cross-country up to that point had a lot to do with it as well. Fred was not capable of going cold mic and Five cursed me silently from 2 miles back for refusing the D-model as he listened to every retch. If he had live missiles, it’s possible I may not be here writing this now. Considering none of us had eaten anything since the craw-dads the night before, it was kind of amazing there was much available. Especially since Fred had already made a couple of deposits back on Bourbon street. Unlike my negative-G pal in Germany, Fred managed to make do with just one bag. We finally cleared the weather, rejoined and came up initial at Patrick. As we flew in fingertip, he held it up proudly from the back seat as I laughed into my mask. After we landed and we were heading inside, Fred walked by me carrying his craw-dad surprise. I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure the damn thing had a slightly purple tint to it through the bag.
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