“Yeah, I got six revets in the triangle area.” I made sure he saw all of them.
“Underneath your smoke now?” The smoke from my bombs rested over the revets.
“That’s affirm.”
“Got’em now.”
“Let’s extend out to the south towards good-guy land, and I’ll work up a five line for these guys.” The targets were very difficult to see. I was planning to pass Dodge five pieces of information to help them find the targets: IP (initial point—the place where they should start their attack), heading, distance, elevation, and coordinates. I also gave them a target description once they were within visual range. The Harriers had an electro-optical targeting pod, which they could use to look closely at targets. I was planning to use this device to get their eyes on the revetments.
Dodge 61 came up on the ultrahigh frequency (UHF) radio:
“Cub Three-One, Dodge Six-One.”{1}
“Three-One go ahead.” Dodge didn’t hear my response, and the radio went quiet—but not for long.
While plotting the revets on my 1-to-250-scale map, I dropped the map between my ejection seat and my right control panel. Pushing the jet over with some negative Gs, I tried to get it to fly back up to me, but only got it hopelessly trapped directly beneath the ejection seat. I called Dirt on our Fox-Mike frequency, where no one else was listening: “You are not going to believe this but I just dropped my 1-to-250.”
Dirt’s response was not at all what I expected: “OK, triple-A now… triple-A coming up… I need you to come down here southbound.” Dirt was trying to keep me clear of the exploding AAA rounds cooking off right underneath us.
“Copy, I got the triple-A now. I’m visual the triple-A now.” For a moment I could make out a ridgeline, where I could see the puffs of smoke coming out of the guns in a group of four to six positions. The AAA pits were two miles west of the target we were working.
“I didn’t get a good look at the firing position.” Dirt had seen the AAA rounds exploding just underneath us but had not seen where the guns were located. The problem with flying over AAA during the day is that they aren’t as visible as they are at night. The only evidence of AAA is usually the explosion of the airburst rounds that have been set to detonate after a specific time of flight, or at a specific altitude. This looks like popcorn popping, or, in a group, they sometimes look like a strand of pearls with four to eight rounds going off in a line. Since not all AAA is set for airburst, we assumed that popcorn going off below us meant that unseen bullets were streaking up, around, and past us.
Dodge repeated his call, unaware of the AAA activity, “Cub Three-One, this is Dodge Six-One.”
I answered and Dodge continued, “Holding IP Brad; authenticate Alpha, Foxtrot, November.” Dodge was following procedure and was authenticating me, using authentication cards that we carry to make sure a Serb wasn’t spoofing him.
On UHF I responded to Dodge, “Stand by, I’m taking a little triple-A.”
Dirt asked me on the Fox-Mike radio, “Are you seeing it? You get a hack at the firing position?”
“I saw it coming up, but I couldn’t get a good hack. These roads have me screwed up, and I have my 1-to-250 dropped.” I had been watching so many roads that I was not positive where the AAA was located.
Getting back to business I responded, “Copy, I’ve found some AAA positions and/or arty. You’ll have to stand by for a while. I’ll have to get it plotted.” I was going to try to take out both the long-range arty and the AAA positions with the CBU. I made a quick guess of where the hillside was on my remaining 1-to-50 map and passed it on to Dodge. “OK, general target area, I’ll give you an update later, is Echo Mike six five nine three… and I can give you an update now six nine nine six.”
“Echo Mike six nine nine six, copied.”
I turned my attention back to my flight and planned with Dirt how to carry off the attack: “If you can get eyeballs on the triple-A area, we’ll take it out. We know it’s active.” What I really meant was that I was planning to use Dirt to suppress the AAA while the Harriers were attacking the long-range arty. I turned my attention back to filling in the blanks as I reached the target area: “And Dodge go ahead with your line up.” From his call sign I knew Dodge was the two British GR-7s I had asked Moonbeam to send. The ATO stated that Dodge had been “fragged” with CBU, but I wanted to confirm it, find out how much playtime they had, and most importantly, get their abort code.
“C aircraft, four CBU, India Bravo mikes on station… Alpha Quebec Uniform, abort code,” came Dodge’s James Bond response. My supersecret-spy decoder ring told me that Dodge was two aircraft carrying a total of four cans of BL-755 CBUs with 30 minutes of time to work the target. Moreover, if I yelled “Papa” over the radio, they would abort their attack.
As I got back to the target, the weather had deteriorated significantly. The visibility at altitude was decreasing as a high deck continued to move in, making it difficult to find the revetments. Fortunately, I had taken the time to see exactly where they were located in relationship to some distinguishing features. “Dodge, I’m trying to get better coordinates, but call when you are ready to proceed to the target area and I’ll plan to mark it with a Mk-82.”
Finally I got my eyes on the small, triangular field where the revetments were located: “For a description, I have five to six berms with arty pieces in them.” I double-checked the coordinates, and the 69 and 96 grid lines off the 1-to-50 map overlapped the target like a set of crosshairs. “And new update—coordinates I passed you are good.”
“Copy. Are we cleared to leave Brad yet?” Dodge was ready to go. He had been holding just south of the Serbian border at the IP Brad and was ready to depart.
“You are cleared to leave Brad and proceed northbound. Be advised you’ll be able to work base plus 16 and below in target area. Call when you are northbound.” This informed him that the weather is bad above 20,000 feet.
“OK, we’re northbound this time.”
“Copy that; I am currently base plus 16. Will be holding just south of target. Be advised triple-A in area approximately two miles west, northwest of target.”
With the weather and the Harriers’ run-in, Dirt and I were forced to overfly the AAA: “Two, any luck picking up triple-A sites?”
“Negative. They have been quiet.”
As we were looking for the AAA positions, Dodge broke in: “Dodge Six-One visual with Cub.”
I was starting to get impatient. With the bad weather, the difficulty in locating the target, and the amount of AAA, this target preparation had taken way too long. “I will be in out of the east. It’s on top of a ridgeline; there are about four revetments. Do you have your targeting pod on that location?”
“Stand by.”
“Disregard. As long as you have eyeballs on Cub, I’ll just go ahead and mark.”
Dodge responded, “I just lost you for the moment.”
“Copy. You’ll pick me as I’m coming off target. I’m in with a single Mk-82.” I would have dropped more, but this was my last Mk-82. As the bomb came off the jet, I called, “Marks away; impact in 10… call visual mark.”
“OK, I have the mark.”
“Call visual the four berms that are just to south and west of mark.”
“Copy. Looking.”
“They are just on the west of that dirtball road.”
Finally, the words I had been waiting to hear: “Visual the berms.”
I wanted the Harriers to start taking out the revetments and planned to cover them on the west side, watching for the AAA to get active again. “Copy, we’re proceeding westbound. You are cleared on those positions.”
“Cleared on those positions. Do you have another mark available when we run in?”