Kevin Miller - Raven One

“Roger that, Bowser. We are bingo for the tanker. You guys take care.”

“ Nail , are you guys done for the day? Can you all come back?”

Wilson answered, “We’ve gotta get a drink, but we’ve each got a JDAM and bullets left.” After a pause, he added, “We’ll let Falcon Control work it out.” He reached down and marked his position over Balad-Ruz.

“ Nail, four-one, roger. Think we are the only game in town today. Hope t’ talk t’ y’all later.”

“Roger that, Bowser , we’ll expedite. Nails , switch Bowstring on Indigo five, go.”

“Two,” Smoke replied.

“Switches safe, camera off,” Wilson added on aux.

“Two.”

The Raven pilots worked their way back through the controlling agencies to the Exxon tanker, now 60 miles away. As they climbed to the tanker track over eastern Iraq, the landscape below was again transformed through the haze into an overall beige patina. Wilson surveyed the scene and unclipped his oxygen mask bayonet fitting and took a drink from the plastic flask he kept in his g-suit pocket. The haze reminded him of the smog that so often covered the Los Angeles basin. He set the power to rendezvous on the tanker with 3,000 pounds of fuel, and checked the bingo to Al Asad as he clipped his mask back into place.

Nail 42 broke the silence. “There’s hope for those Army guys — they swear like Marines.” Smoke was close enough to see Wilson’s white helmet move up and down in the affirmative as he searched the sky for Exxon . Minutes later they joined on the same Mississippi tanker they had tanked from earlier. The boom was all theirs, and both pilots plugged and took on fuel in turn. Although they could have topped off with more, Wilson directed Smoke to take 10,000 pounds to shave some time tanking and to get back to Bowser in a hurry. In a little over 20 minutes they completed their tanking. While Smoke was still in the basket, Wilson was coordinating their next mission… back to Diyala and Bowstring control. Ten minutes later they were enroute to Bowser .

“ Bowser, Nail four-one, flight of two, checking in with one JDAM and twenty mike-mike each, play time 0+40.” Wilson saw the outline of Balad Ruz, just visible through the haze, in his HUD field of view.

“Rog’ that, Nail four-one, welcome back! Y’all ready t’ copy nine-line?”

“Go ahead.”

“OK, head t’ Wizards… and stand by for brief.”

Bowser read off a standardized close air support targeting checklist. It consisted of nine lines in sequence, each line corresponding to a piece of information required to build the tactical picture with a minimum of transmissions. These nine lines would give the aviators all the information they needed to release their weapon on target at the precise second required. This precision also served to avoid fratricide and the targeting of noncombatants.

After half a minute, Bowser keyed his mike.

“ Nail four-one, nine-line as follows…

“…Wizards…

“…Zero-sev’n-five…

“…Six-point-four…

“…One-three-two…

“…building, insurgent stronghold…”

Bowser read the detailed latitude/longitude info for the JDAM, and continued.

“…not applicable…

“…southwest three thousand…

“…egress north back t’ Wizards…

“…advise when ready to copy amplifying remarks, over.”

Wilson finished scribbling the nine-line into his kneeboard CAS card and answered, “Ready to copy remarks.”

“Rog-o, Nails , need jus’ one JDAM fer now. Restriction for collateral damage is a mosque west one thousand… troops in contact. Time on target when able.” The JTAC sounded nervous.

Wilson hit his countdown timer. Bowser’s assignment to the Nails: leave the initial point Wizards on a heading of 075, and 6.4 miles later, hit an insurgent building at an elevation of 132 feet with a single JDAM. Bowser and his squad were southwest at 3000 meters, and a mosque was west at 1000 meters. Once the weapon was delivered, the Nails were to come off north and return to Wizards for more tasking. From what Wilson could see, and from the inflection of Bowser’s voice, they needed fire support now .

Wilson answered, “Roger… about five minutes.” Bowser asked him to read back line six, and Wilson complied. The contract was set.

Wilson directed Smoke to take high cover. He then set his own destination for the target and readied himself for a busy five minutes filled with mental time-distance-heading calculations, triple checking the lat/long entered into the computer, and verifying the numbers with his wingman. He selected his JDAM on Station 2, and set a course line of 075 from Wizards. He maneuvered west of town at 7,000 feet, over open fields, and saw no movement below him. As he approached the run-in, he pushed the throttles to burner and pulled to the northeast.

“ Nail four-one, IP inbound.”

“Rog-o Nail , continue.”

Upon reaching a tactical air speed, Wilson pulled it out of burner and lined up on his steering. The town floated under his nose ahead of him. On his FLIR he saw a clutter of square shapes — buildings — and as he drew closer, he was able to break them out on the north/south streets. He selected his tape ON and noted 25 seconds to release.

“ Nail four-one, wings level.”

“Cleared hot, Nail ”

“ Nail four-one”

Wilson lifted the master arm switch to ARM and continued at high speed toward the town.

Smoke called to him. “Got a puff to the southwest. Maybe near Bowser’s posit… Yep, there’s an impact flash.”

Wilson looked over his right leading edge extension and saw two small smoke clouds wafting up from a nondescript neighborhood. He was well above small arms fire, but was concerned about hand-held SAM launches, even though no firings had been reported in this area for some time. With seconds to release, he concentrated on the release cue and accelerated. Bowser seemed like a guy who wouldn’t mind a JDAM a bit early. The airplane jumped as another 500 pounds of ordnance, guided by satellite signals all the way to the target, fell earthward to the precise point Bowser wanted it to hit.

Wilson went to military power and rolled up on his left wing to egress north and watch the impact. The FLIR showed a car approach the targeted building; in anticipation he looked over his left shoulder to watch the weapon impact. He saw a massive explosion in the middle of the city, the shock wave raising a concentric cloud of dust above the structures around the building covered in smoke. Secondary explosions shot out of the burning building, and projectiles rammed into the houses across the street. One missile-like projectile flew crazily over the houses and landed in a dirt field north of the highway. The driver of the car he saw before impact reversed down the street in a panic. Wilson was surprised it was still running. A raging column of flame and black smoke towered over the targeted building.

Wilson was transfixed by the scene until the radio crackled. “ Nails , we gettin’ mortared! Gotta move, out!”

Wilson overheard a soldier in the background shout, “Andy, let’s go!”

“Roger, Bowser , we’re standing by.”

With his wingman in trail, Wilson orbited northwest of the city, the pall of black smoke showing no signs of abating. To the southwest he also saw a tight group of small puffs caused by mortars. Bowser must be in that area.