Until today, Harmann had never believed the Amis could be that ruthless. After seeing what had been done to Germany, now he'd believe anything. But his gut told him that was wrong. So what in hell was happening? Even as he watched, a second series of three bombs dropped.
Cockpit, F-85B “Hockey Puck” on board GB-36J “Guardian Angel”
Captain Charles “Chuck” Larry tightened his harness, made sure the cockpit was closed and waited for the launch mechanism to carry him backwards. His F-85B Goblin was sitting where the third bomb-bay on the GB-36 had been once. In front of him were two more Goblins, each occupying the space once taken up by a bomb bay. They must, Larry reflected by the oddest little fighters ever built, specifically designed to be carried in the bomb bay of a B-36. They were weird to look at, multiple control surfaces everywhere, five tailplanes, their numbers making up for size. They had a little J-34 jet engine and the pilot sat on top of it. Hence the in-joke. What did Goblin drivers have for breakfast? Toasted Buns. But the Goblin defied its appearance. It was fast, incredibly agile and a dream to fly. It was also short ranged and carried only limited ammunition supplies. Well, who needed those when one brought one's airfield along for the ride?
The little fighter had been born years earlier. The original plan was that every B-36 and RB-36 would carry one, launching it when it came under threat. The intent was that the bombers would fly over enemy defenses but it was always understood that some would be damaged or have mechanical trouble and be forced to fly lower. The first thought had been long range escort fighters but any fighter with the range of a B-36 would be about the same size. Aerial refueling had been developed for the bombers but for the fighters as well? Most of SAC would be tankers. So, the Goblin had been designed to provide a last ditch defense. The bombers would carry the fighters in their bomb bay. The idea had failed disastrously. The F-85A had flown just fine and the B-36s could launch them without too many problems. The catch was the turbulence under the B-36 was so strong they couldn't be recovered. Since the Goblin didn't have an undercarriage, this made life interesting for the pilot. So the idea had been put aside and the Goblins relegated to test flights and other experiments. The Navy had bought a few as well, heaven knows what for.
Then came the other half of the equation. LeMay had been thinking ahead as usual. The day would come when the B-36 couldn't penetrate defenses so it would need an air-launched missile it could fire at a target from a distance. The result had been the DB-36, a B-36 that carried a pilotless F-80C on a retractable trapeze. The initial experiments had been done with piloted F-80s and they'd hooked onto the bombers quite safely. Inspiration struck somebody and the launch trapeze was combined with the F-85.
A new B-36 was built with a hangar where its forward three bomb bays had been and a launch trapeze in the fourth. The Goblins could be launched and recovered. It was hazardous, if the engine on the Goblin couldn't be run on board and had to be started after the trapeze had been extended. If failed to start the only way to go was down. Once the hangar was closed, it could be pressurized and the Goblins could even be refueled and re-armed on board. The 5O9th, a composite bomber/fighter unit had been formed with 18 GB-36Js and 54 F-85Bs. And, today, all of them were over Eastern France, making sure the bombers got home safely.
Suddenly there was a jerk and the Goblin started to move backwards. The conveyor took the fighter aft where its carriage transferred to the trapeze. Then, the bomb bay doors opened and the Goblin was lowered into the airflow under the mothership. Larry thumbed the engine start and heard the howl as the J-34 spooled up. Press the release catch - and he dropped clear. The hook in front of him retracted into its housing and he was free to go hunting at last. Below him, a B-36 was trailing smoke and losing altitude. Nine German fighters, long-winged Messerschmitts were closing in on the cripple. They weren't quite in range yet but it was perilously close. Hockey Puck accelerated as Larry hit maximum power and angled down to intercept the German fighters. Two more F-85s had formed up with him, the other six would cluster around the B-36 to prevent the Germans from closing on her.
The combined effects of the dive and the thrust form the J-34 had pushed him up to nearly six hundred miles per hour. People didn't realize just how great the Goblin was lo fly until they tried one. It was so small that it felt like there was no aircraft at all around the pilot, that he was skimming through the sky with just his seat. The early J-34s had had problems with in-flight explosions, so sometimes that was just what the pilots had done. The same small size made them a pilot's dream; they felt like an extension of the pilot, not a machine he was controlling. Now, Larry was closing on one of the Messerschmitts, he'd curved around so he would hit the formation from the rear and cut through it forwards. He was gambling on something the Goblin pilots had learned while training against conventional fighters.
The F-85 was so tiny and so fast that other pilots thought it was further away and slower than it was. They saw what they expected to see - a normal size fighter far away, not a tiny one close up. And the Messerschmitt he had picked as his target was doing the same. Either he was concentrating on the B-36 to the exclusion of all else or he'd ignored Hockey Puck closing in on him. It was the last mistake he'd ever make. Larry saw the aircraft soar into his gunsight, saw the pipper run over the engine cowling towards the cockpit and fired a short burst. Brilliant white flashes all over the cockpit, the Messerschmitt reared up as the pilot was hit then stalled out. As it spun down, Larry saw its long wings start to crumple.
That had thrown panic into the situation. Another German was breaking into Larry's approach, trying get clear by turning inside him. Bad move, the F-85 had a fantastic roll rate. Larry spun Hockey Puck on her axis, reversed his turn and slid the pipper over the second target. Again, the short burst. This time black smoke erupted from the engine before the bullets raked the cockpit. No matter, the fighter was going down. Around him, the situation was chaos. The Germans had been flying in two neat “finger fours” with the leader between and ahead of them; Larry's section had taken the right hand finger four out completely. They'd just gone. He'd got two; his wingmen probably had taken down one each. Three Goblins were now between the Germans and the crippled B-36 while the last section of three were heading for the German leader. Even as Larry watched, the German pilot twisted and turned to escape the assault - and failed. He spun out, his wings crumpled and he was going down. Working out who got that one was going to be interesting.
Still, business first. There was one German group. Larry's section of F-85s set out for it. The neat German formation splintered as the pilots saw the little fighters closing in on them. For one it was too late. He tried to turn away but his engine erupted into flame as Larry's guns ripped into him. Then there was silence, Hockey Puck was out of ammunition. Never mind, the other three German fighters were disengaging and the Goblins let them go. It was hammered into their heads right from the start. The objective was not enemy killed but bombers saved. “OK Wolves. I'm taking first section to rearm and refuel. The rest of you remain with the cripple. Refueling at 20 minute intervals until the Navy show up.”
“Little Friends, this is Texan Lady here. We're happy to see you. What's the charge?”