Dan squeezed the trigger again, this time the solid rocket motor ignites and the Sidewinder stormed forward, the missile went inside the circle of the turning aircraft.
“It’s gone stupid,” Dan shouted the AIM-9 Sidewinders guidance system must have failed.
“Stay on him Dan, we’ve got him.”
The AIM-9 lock-on system was still growling in Dan’s ear, he squeezed the trigger again and the third missile roared forward, it dipped inside the circle and for a second Dan thought this one had failed as well.
Suddenly the Sidewinder turned back to the right and spiraled in behind the desperate MiG, the missile turned just behind the Russian made fighter and went straight up the tailpipe, a millisecond later the warhead exploded and the MiG separated in the middle with a brilliant, bright fireball.
“Ye-ha we got him!” Freddy shouted.
“Confirmed MiG kill,” Dan confirmed to base.
There was no time to celebrate though as Dan’s radar operator spotted a silver glint closing in behind the two F4’s.
“Blue bandit in firing position on our 6.” He said calmly.
The two American pilots reacted instinctively and turn into each other, trying to throw off the MiG’s attack. The MiG fired an AA-2 ‘Atoll’ air to air missile that homed in on Freddy’s Phantom. The Atoll got in close, but fortunately detonated just behind the American’s plane, shockwaves resonated through the aircraft but the big beast shook off the insult.
The MiG reverses and punches out of there. Hit and run tactics were a particular favorite of the Vietnamese air force.
“Shall we go after him?” Freddy asked.
“No we haven’t got the fuel for it,” Dan said correctly.
Victor three and four we working their Phantoms hard as the tried to get in behind the second MiG. While the Phantoms had the advantage in brute power and speed, the MiG had the advantage in maneuverability; the Communist pilot knew this and went into a wide left turn.
The Americans did not bite, instead Pete in Victor three initiated a barrel roll and tried to come down behind the MiG in a slow loop. The Phantoms tried hard to keep their airspeed low enough to stay on the tricky MiG’s six.
While all this was going on Brooklyn’s radio operator William Morgan Morris or ‘Moose’ as he was more affectionately known, was trying his hardest to get a radar lock with the AIM-7 Sparrow missiles. The AIM-7 is a medium range homing missile, but against small fast targets it needed a strong radarlock to be effective.
“I can’t get a lock on Jr.” A clearly frustrated Moose said.
Victor three was at the end of his third barrel roll and was leveling out at the end of the loop, the AIM-9 lock on was growling heavy in his ear. Pete squeezed the trigger, the missile streaked out to the right and just carried on straight, it detonated far off to the MiG’s right. Pete squeezed the trigger again but this time the Sidewinders motor did not even ignite; the missile fell like a brick.
“Negative Pete, that one was a dud,” Jnr shouted.
Pete was getting angry now and squeezed the trigger hard, his third missile followed the lead of its brother and plummeted towards the earth.
“Negative again Pete.”
“God damn it, Mitch can you get a Sparrow lock on?”
Mitch shook his head, not at this range.”
“Bank left Pete, I have the shot!” Brooklyn said assertively.
Victor three moved out the way to let Brooklyn through.
“Get him Jnr.”
The familiar growl of the AIM-9 lock on calmed Brooklyn’s nerves, he completed a barrel roll and when he leveled out at the bottom of the loop he squeezed the trigger. The missile streak straight and true but detonated short of the Soviet fighter.
Brooklyn was calm and squeezed the trigger again gently, the second missile also flew true but this time it carried on going and slammed into the right wing of the MiG, it detonated and ripped the wing clean off of the fuselage. The MiG pilot ejected from the crippled aircraft and a few seconds later his chute opened.
The two Americans maneuvered their aircraft passed the vanquished foe, Brooklyn saw the dark black flight suit of the Vietnamese pilot, and he could clearly see the pilots head track his aircraft as it sped passed.
“Second blue bandit destroyed.” Pete declared, before adding “We have a new MiG killer.”
“Good work Jnr!” Flight leader Dan added, “Let’s go home.”
The four Phantoms returned to their aircraft carrier. They had a quick debriefing and then were given the evening off for their good work.
Brooklyn Jnr finished packing away his flight suit when the black and white photos of him and his parents caught his eye. He smiled to himself as he brushed his fingertips over his smiling fathers face.
‘You would have been proud of me today dad bagged my first bad guy didn’t I. I did it right like you always did.’ Brooklyn Jnr nodded then gave a fist bump to the photo like he did at the end of every mission.
Brooklyn took a pad of paper and a pen then strolled out towards the canteen, he had decided it was time to write to his mom and to his girl Pamela, it was well overdue. Brooklyn had been in Vietnam for over four months now but had only written once.
Mitch’s familiar voice rang out from behind Brooklyn, “I wouldn’t bother Jnr, I expect Pam has found someone much better looking than you by now son.”
Brooklyn smiled but carried on walking. He could hear Mitch’s footsteps echoing through the narrow hall as he ran to catch up. Mitch threw his arm over Brooklyn’s shoulder.
“Want my help lover boy, I’m in a good mood today and am more than willing to teach your dumb ass to write?”
Brooklyn just shook his head, “I’d tell you to fuck off with yourself but we all know you’d enjoy that too much.”
They both laughed as the entered the quiet canteen.
Brooklyn sat next to his fellow squad mates as they chatted away excitedly about the day’s action. Pete’s hands were everywhere as he relived the combat, whereas Dan sat calmly eating, he had seen this all before and was not that interested in dissecting their tactics. They all congratulated Brooklyn on becoming the squadrons latest MiG killer and as they all left one by one until Brooklyn was the last one remaining in the almost deserted canteen. He felt a genuine sense of pride over his accomplishment as he set about writing to his two favorite women in his life.
Brooklyn had just finished the letter to his mom when something on the tiny 17-inch TV screen caught his eye.
‘Anti War protesters march through Central Park, bringing the normally peaceful area to a standstill’ was the headline the scrolled across the bottom of the news broadcast. A news lady in a tight suit spoke quickly but Brooklyn could not hear a word she said as there was no volume control but the images burned in his mind.
There were thousands of protesters, many young students who in their casual jeans, sported huge placards one of which said ‘I don’t give a damn for Uncle Sam I ain’t going to Vietnam’ and then the camera cut to another one ‘Resist the draft- Students for a Libertarian society.’ Then the camera panned around to see hundreds of people carrying balloons with various slogans written across them.
Brooklyn Jnr felt angry and betrayed, he did not know why the American public had turned so much against the war. He was proud of his actions and that of his comrades and he did not understand how people could be so against the achievements of his close-knit military family. Brooklyn was young and his anger got the better of him, he slammed his fists on the table and screwed up the letter he had written for his mother, he angrily scribbled down a joint letter for his mom and for Pam.
Little Green man
Edward Wheeler stopped his large truck at the gates of Wright Patterson Air Force base like he had done a handful of times before. He waited as the guards went over his paperwork. The guard tutted then mumbled to himself, “More ceramic tiles.”