With the COs seated and door closed, Wilson began.
“Lady and gentlemen, we received tasking this morning from INDOPACOM. In a nutshell, we will transit two more days and begin flight ops 300 miles east of Iwo Jima. We will launch armed surface searches and update the surface picture before we transit the second island chain between the Bonin and Northern Mariana Islands. We’ll transit at night in a sprint with Cape St. George and Earl Gallaher blocking for us, and another DDG is coming down from Japan to help with ASW. We’ve got an attack sub out there, too, and P-8s out of Misawa, so we’ve got plenty of escort. Once in the Phil Sea, we’re in open water, but it looks like we are going to take a position east of Luzon from which to help roll back the Chinese into the SCS. That will be another two-day transit but at a slower advance.”
Wilson saw Mother grimace and, in an almost imperceptible motion, shake his head. Almost imperceptible. Wilson continued.
“Air Force bombers from Guam, Australia and Hickam are going to hit the Spratly installations hard, with two squadrons of Raptors out of Guam to help. We’re going to provide suppression with our Growlers and preemptive AARGM for the Guam strikers, and Les Aspin is going to do the same for Air Force assets coming out of Australia. We can expect the Aussies to help with their Growlers, too. Gumby, are your guys ready on the threat emitters in this region?”
“Ready, CAG,” the Growler squadron CO answered with an emphatic nod.
“Great. Rhino squadrons, expect to be AARGM and SLAM shooters to suppress the threat as the big bombers go in, and, of course, tankers to help keep gas in the air. Even close to the Philippines, we’ve still got about a 1,000-mile hike to Blood Moon, and Banyon Island is only a little closer.” Wilson noted Olive’s nod, and Mother Tucker crossed his arms and legs, his disgust evident on his face.
“We’ve also got Solomon Islands coming from Hawaii with over twenty Seahawks, most of them Romeo sub hunters. When they near Guam, they’ll embark expeditionary Sierras and two squadrons of F-35s out of Yuma.”
“They pulled the Air Combat Element off and left them at Kaneohe?” Mother interrupted. Wilson answered in stride.
“Don’t know where they left them, but Solomon Islands is going to be a sea control ship, and that’s where you come in. With the Super Hornets flying the long legs to the SCS, we’re gonna keep your Hornets nearby as surface and combat air patrol. The JSFs from Solomon Islands are going to go along with the strike birds, and all the helos are going to prosecute any subs or militia fishing boats they find.”
“CAG, we’re not going over the beach at all? What did the Marine Corps do to be kept out of this fight?”
Wilson stopped and looked at Mother amid raised eyebrows from the other COs. Wilson took the high road.
“Mother, it’s nothing the Marine Corps did, we’ve got big time tasking for you to help sanitize the area around the strike group. We can’t proceed without you, but here’s the reality: the legs on your older Hornets require more gas than the Rhinos, and the Rhinos can carry more ordnance, the Rhinos are tankers, yada, yada. We’ll have plenty of work for you guys.”
“Are the JSFs on Solomon Islands going over the beach?” Mother asked him.
Wilson’s patience was wearing thin. “Maybe… probably. Don’t know. I don’t know if we are going over the beach, but what I do know is that we have our tasking message from INDOPACOM, and I expect we’ll be in total EMCON for at least the next two days. So, as we transit, we need to groom our aircraft and get smart on the geography from Singapore up to Korea. I also know we haven’t flown in days, and I’m going to see if we can at least get some day flying to exercise the aircraft and aircrew. Our closest approach to Japan is going to be over 500 miles. There’s nothing out here.”
Although he kept his mouth shut, Mother made a face that betrayed his thoughts. Typical Navy bullshit. Keeping the Marines out of the fight. Mother couldn’t believe he and his guys, on “Day One,” were going to be missing the action while the damn Navy and even the limp-dick Air Force hogged all the glory. As he listened to Wilson go over the targets and how they would be struck with smart weapons, he fought to keep his emotions under control. Too much silver bullet standoff and with the long ranges involved they couldn’t keep continuous pressure on the Chinese. Just smack ‘em in the face!
Wilson continued.
“If this thing goes hot, the plan is to roll them back, maybe drive them out of the SCS; to push them back to their mainland waters and keep the SCS open. For their merchant traffic, too, and this is going to complicate our problem.”
“CAG, isn’t this already hot?” Olive asked. “What if we come across a Chinese vessel out here in the next day or two?”
“For now, we report it and stand clear. The diplomats may come up with a solution that doesn’t require us, but I don’t think that is going to happen.”
Gumby, the Growler squadron CO, spoke next. “CAG, are there strike lead assignments?”
“Not yet. Just go through these folders and get familiar with the territory. Have your Intel Officers give your squadrons briefs on the threats. We can expect anything from Su-30s to older MiGs, H-6s carrying cruise missiles to fishing boats with handheld SAMs. Be ready.” Olive raised her hand.
“What about the Japanese sir? What if we come across them?”
“The Japanese are going to be at sea, but they are neutral. Their concern is the Senkaku Islands north of Taiwan. They are not going to help us, but we may see some of their units as we transit past Iwo.” Mother forced himself to sit on his hands. Once the meeting broke up, he bolted for the door and headed aft to Ready 8, shaking his head in disgust.
Once inside, Mother strode to the front of the room and took his seat, grumbling and muttering something unintelligible. Most of his pilots were hanging around, and saw their CO was distressed, no pissed. The Panther Ops Officer spoke first.
“How was the COs meeting, Skipper?”
Mother groaned and shook his head. “Looks like the jarheads are ridin’ the pine.”
Conversation elsewhere in the room stopped, and everyone looked at Mother with incredulity. “What?” Tension shot through the overhead as Mother nodded. A crowd gathered around his chair.
“Skipper, what do you mean? They’re going into combat without us?”
“Yep, were gonna be the fuckin’ babysitters for these boats while the rest of the wing goes over the beach.”
His Marines, eyes narrowed in anger, looked at each other in frustration, trying to guess what their CO meant.