93rd Bomb Squadron, US Air Force Reserve (USAF-R)
200 miles West of Tokyo, Angels 30
“Outlaw Lead, say fuel status.”
“Outlaw lead, fuel sufficient for Yakota with reserve.”
“Negative Outlaw lead. Yakota is closed to incoming. Can you divert to Kadena?”
Tinney looked at his right seater. “What the hell?”
“Negative, Sentry. We are beyond bingo for Kadena. Current divert is Nagoya.” Nagoya was not an ideal landing site for a B-52 as it only had a runway length of about 8900 feet and the normal operating preference was for a runway closer to 10,000 feet, but it was doable. For comparison, Yokota is about 11,000 feet long.
“Acknowledged Outlaw Lead. Be advised that SACPAC has declared a Torchlight event. Say again, Torchlight.”
“Outlaw lead acknowledges Torchlight.”
That put the cat among the pigeons for sure. Torchlight was the code name for a possible nuclear strike by North Korea.
“What do you think John, do we divert now?”
Tinney’s copilot, Lieutenant Williams, had been calculating fuel states during the discussion with the AWACs aircraft. Looking up from his jotted notes, he grimaced. “We are still an hour from bingo gas to Nagoya. We would be pretty light by then, but I would prefer to dump or burn down as much as possible.”
Tinney nodded. For short runways, the safest course of action was to make the airplane as light as possible. They had already expended the bulk of their ordinance in the massive strike on China but the majority of the weight that they could shed was in the form of fuel. This meant dumping the fuel or burning it off by flying. Tinney thought for a moment. They were already headed for the impact site and they needed to burn off fuel anyway. Perhaps they could kill two birds with one stone.
“Sentry, what is the estimated time for inbound for Torchlight?”
“Torchlight inbound ETA ten minutes.”
“Roger Sentry. We are still six zero minutes from fuel commit to Nagoya. Say again, six zero minutes until commit to Nagoya. Request permission from command to remain on course and conduct BDA.” Battle Damage Assessment or BDA was the term the military used for assessing the impact of a strike or other attack. In this case, a nuclear strike would likely wipe the Yokota airbase off the map completely along with large parts of Tokyo.
“Outlaw, understand your request for BDA, wait one.”
While the USA had dedicated spy satellites and specialized reconnaissance aircraft that could do a much more thorough job, they were unlikely to be in position as quickly as Tinney and his crew. Even satellites had a limited view and Japan was not on the list of countries that received wall to wall satellite coverage from the USA.
After a few minutes, Sentry was back. “Outlaw, your request is approved. Current inbound tracks show impact on or near Yokota. Recommend no closer to five zero miles to Yokota. Repeat, no closer than five zero miles Yokota. Acknowledge.”
“Roger Sentry. Outlaw to proceed no closer than five zero miles to Yokota.”
Williams was looking across the cockpit at his boss. “Is this a good idea Major?”
“What, you mean intentionally flying into a nuclear strike?”
“Yeah, that part.”
Tinney took a moment to collect his thoughts. “John, if this thing goes nuclear, do you think it really matters if we are exposed to some radiation? What do you think will happen next? How likely are you and I to survive a nuclear exchange?”
“That’s a sunny thought, sir.”
“Scares the fuck outa me, I have to admit.”
“So, what do we do?”
“We do our jobs and pray. Nothing else for it. Running away to Nagoya just postpones the bad news. If it’s not a nuke, we can give the all clear sooner than anyone else.”
“Roger that.”
The next few minutes were the tensest of Tinney’s long Air Force career. Worse than combat, worse even than than the time he had flown into a Hurricane due to a air traffic control screw-up. All the while, the counter ticked down, remoselessly.
“You got Yokota tower freq dialed in, John?”
“Yeah, ready to go.”
“Outlaw lead to Yokota tower, we are five zero miles out at angels 30, over.”
The voice that answered was pure east Texas drawl. “Yokota tower, to Outlaw lead. You crazy boy? We’re about to take a nuke up the ass here. Divert to your secondary now!”
“Yokota, you seem to be standing your post.”
“Sheee-it boy. I got planes to get into the air here. ‘Sides, there aint no running from a nuke in case nobody told ya.”
Not the most professional radio conversation that Tinney had ever heard, but the stress of possible immolation pretty much excused anything the controller might say. “See you on the other side Yakota.”
“Your lips to God’s ears Outlaw.”
As the counter ticked down the last few seconds, Tinney braced himself for what was about to come. Even at a distance of fifty miles, a nuclear blast would be impossible to miss. The massive flash alone would be visible for at least a hundred miles in every direction. The massive shockwave would follow.
Tinney waited. He turned the aircraft to face away from the blast and it’s retina damaging brightness. They would see enough reflected light to know what happened.
The counter ticked down to zero.
Tinney braced himself, unconsciously holding his breath.
And he saw…
Nothing.
He counted to thirty in his head.
Still nothing.
Daring to breathe again, he keyed his microphone. “Yokota, you with us?”
There was a pause of a few seconds that felt like an eternity. “HOLY FUCKING CHRIST! THAT WAS CLOSE!”
Tinney turned to his copilot, almost laughing with releif. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.”
Williams returned his smile. “Yeah, I think so. I think I gotta change my skivvies now.”
“Same here, John. Same here.”
“Outlaw lead to Sentry. Negative Torchlight. Say again, NEGATIVE TORCHLIGHT. No flash or blast, we are evaluating this as a negative nuclear strike.”
The all clear was quickly passed around the Pacific theater. All involved sighed with relief that the worst had not happened. Very quickly thereafter the natural question arose: What if we are not so lucky next time?