The Kidd Incident

334th Fighter Squadron

South China Sea

“You Gotta Be Shitting Me.” 

The unofficial motto of the USAF Wild Weasel squadrons is attributed to Jack Donnovan, a B-52 EWO upon being informed that his mission would be to fly back seat on an early anti-SAM mission over Vietnam.

This phrase was going through the mind of Lt. Colonel James “Cookie” Cook as he finished tanking up from the KC-46.  With the entire 4^th Fighter Wing committed to this attack on Woody Island, he had plenty of company.  The 334^th had drawn “low man” duty this day with the 333^rd flying “high cover.”

The reality is that the F-15E was not the right platform for taking on a heavily defended target like Woody Island.  While dropping a crap ton of JDAMs wasn’t really a problem, the issue was the SAM coverage that the Chinese had been busy building up over the last few years.  Ideally, a flight of EA-18G’s would go in and take out the radar sites first but the attack on the Vinson and CSG-1 had effectively removed the Navy from this part of the ocean.

In the USAF, the “wild weasel” mission was normally flown by F-16’s.  In the tight confines of Western Europe, this was an ideal aircraft for the job.  However, with the nearest air base over 500 miles away, it was going to be difficult for the F-16’s to get in and out without heavy tanker support.  Even the F-15E with their 500-mile range required a full tank halfway to ensure a full combat load at that distance.

Tankers had proven to be the Achilles heel of air operations in the Pacific.  The Chinese knew that they had to take out the tanker force.  With early successes attacking the tanker fleet, alternative tactics were required by the USA to achieve their objectives. The loss rate of tankers had been extremely high thus far in the war and the entire F-22 fleet had been tasked exclusively with tanker protection.

In this case, making the F-15E a “wild weasel” aircraft which it had never been designed to do.  Once again, Cook cursed the moron responsible for retiring the EF-111 “Raven” also known as the Spark ‘Vark.  As a former ‘Vark driver, Cook knew EXACTLY how he would have gone after Woody Island in the big bird.  His current ride was not really up to the task, but the Chinese hadn’t given them much choice and the brass hadn’t asked his opinion on the matter.

The plan was simple enough.  One-third of the wing would go high to flush out any Chinese AWACs birds and the other two thirds would go low to evade ground-based radar coverage.  Flying down on the deck would significantly reduce the range at which the Chinese SAMs could track and engage the F-15’s.  Of course, it would also mean giving up the most important advantage in any dogfight:  altitude.   Cook told himself firmly that his job was NOT to dogfight today.  Get down low and deliver the HARM payload.  That was all.

At two hundred miles, they started dropping down.  By one fifty, they were wavetop height.  It was thrilling going that fast so low to the sea.  It was also very, very dangerous.

His backseater was not amused.  “Cookie, let’s get some breathing room here.”

“Relax Stretch, I got this.”

“Yeah boss, I know.  I just worry we may be the first aircraft in the history of the USAF to get taken out by a fish strike.”

“You worry too much Stretch.”

“Keeps me alive boss.”

Cook advanced the throttles to the maximum non-after burner setting.  The burners would waste too much fuel, but he wanted to get into range as fast as possible.  The rest of the squadron had spread out to approach Woodie Island from a very broad front.  Ultimately, they would converge from 180 degrees of the compass, making it as difficult as possible for the SAM crews to engage…

“SHIT!  Chinese frigate at 2 O’Clock!!”

Not good news.  The whole idea was to sneak up on the island and get a shot off before being discovered.  Running across a random Chinese PLAN ship wasn’t in the mission profile.  In a moment, the frigate was on their right-hand side and past.  The speed of the aircraft suddenly becoming very apparent to the crew in a way not normally experienced.

“Breaking Left!”

Cook brought the F-15 into a tight turn to the left and lit the afterburners.  In five seconds, the aircraft passed Mach 1.  The resulting sonic boom would have been deafening if anyone had been close by. 

“They are painting us!!”

Cook called out to his wingman.  “Spooky, split now and join up down range.  Watch for SAMs.”

“Roger that Cookie..”

The two F-15’s split up, trying to make the firing solution more difficult for the Chinese frigate.  Unfortunately, they were on their toes.

“SAM, 6 o’clock!” 

The Chinese had launched radar-guided Surface to Air Missiles in the few seconds that the aircraft had been in their radar window.  The only way they could have done that was if they were already on alert.  Not good news for the F-15’s.

“I have radar from the SAM.  It is homing.  Attempting to jam.”

Cook fired off chaff and then a set of flares, just in case.    Most likely, this was a radar homing missile but flares were cheap.  His only chance was to jam the radar on the incoming missile and maneuver to the point where the missile lost lock. At the speed they were going, chaff wasn’t very useful since it was a long way behind them very quickly.  The only good news was that he was going Mach 1 directly away from the attacking missile.  The bad news was that the missile was capable of Mach 4 and was directly on his tail.

“Stretch, fire up the MALD.”

“Cookie, without the MALD, we are mission abort.”

“I can’t shake this bitch, we need some cover.”

“Roger that Cookie.”

The MALD-J (Miniature Air Launched Decoy) was designed to mimic the radar and electronic signature of various aircraft in the US inventory.  The idea was to flood enemy radar with fake aircraft and draw enemy fire away from the real aircraft.  However, in this case, the idea was to give the homing missile something to lock onto so that the F-15 could live to fight another day.

“MALD away.  MALD is slowing to subsonic.”

“I have another 30 seconds of burner before we need to slow down or we won’t make it back to the tanker.”

“Roger that Cookie.”

Cook banked the fighter hard right, taking them out of the line of sight of the oncoming missile, punching out chaff every few seconds.  Hopefully, the MALD would present a more attractive target.

“Aspect change, the missile is taking the bait.”

“Fuck me, that was close.”

“Do we abort?”

“Hell no.  We came all this way.  We make it back to Clark with missiles on the pylons, we will hear about it for months.”

“What about the SAM site on Woody?  No MALD means we don’t have a diversion.”

“Let’s hope the others were luckier.”  Cook keyed his radio.  “Spooky, you with me?”

The silence on the digital radio was deafening.

“Spooky?”

“Cookie, I think he bought it.  There were two other SAMs that locked on him.”

“Goddammit.”

“Let’s get this mission done Cookie.”

“Roger that Stretch.  Let’s kill some of those motherfuckers.”  While Cook normally prided himself on his professionalism, the idea of losing his wingman was tough to take.  It was supposed to be about getting the job done, but that wasn’t always true.  Losing a friend hurt.  You had to be inhuman not to feel that.  Training meant he could still do the job but humanity meant that he took it personally.  Anger and fear melded into a tight ball in his belly.

Flying at just under the speed of sound, the F-15 continued at very low altitude towards Woody Island and the waiting SAMs.  Not a very smart thing to do.

“Cookie, I’m getting radar warnings.  I think that the Chinese have the MALDs.  TRESPASS, S-Band at 12 o’clock.  I am getting tracking radar and fire control.  Looks like Intel was correct, at least one HQ-9 battery.”

While Cook and his wingman had been extremely unlucky, most of the remaining fighters in the squadron had been able to release their MALD-J decoys as per the mission brief.  Because the MALD-J was able to both mimic USAF combat aircraft and jam enemy radar, the defenders on Woody Island were completely convinced that the MALD’s represented the attacking fighters and targeted them with their SAMs.  While they were good radar targets, they were much smaller than a real F-15 and many of the attacking missiles missed.  This further confused the defenders and gave the F-15’s time to fire their radar killing missiles. 

“Distance to launch point?”

“Five miles.”

“Roger that, I’m going to pop up to one thousand feet to let the missiles acquire then fire.”

“Gotcha Cookie.  Feeding tracking info to the birds now.  Range in three, two, one.  Execute! Now, now, now!”

Cook pulled the F-15 into a steep climb.  The very maneuverable aircraft gained altitude extremely quickly.  “Firing.”  The AGM-88E HARM was a very intelligent weapon.  Capable of locking onto an electromagnetic radiation source at over 100 miles distance, it would automatically track and home in on either a radar source or even a radar jammer.  Unbeknownst to the pilots of the 334^th, the Chinese had deployed multiple decoy sites in addition to the actual radar sites on the island.  While the four missiles fired by Cook would not be enough to take out Chinese radar emplacement on Woody island, the forty missiles fired by the ten surviving members of the squadron were more than enough.  Even though half the missiles were fooled by decoys, that still left twenty missiles homing in on five targets.

Cook and the rest of the squadron withdrew, heading for the planned tanker rendezvous.  While they had committed a flight of the very rare F-22’s to guard the tankers, there was no guarantee the tankers would be there.  The Chinese had moved to long-range missile attacks on the tanker fleet to discourage them.  No tankers in the air meant no threat from US tactical aircraft.

The 334^th had taken a beating, losing four aircraft in the process, but the SAM radar on Woody Island was out of business.  For now.

Whiteman Air Force Base, Missouri

509^th Bomb Wing

“Looks like a JDAM.”

“No, it’s a JDAM-ER, look at the wing package underneath.”

The object in question was strapped to a weapons cart which was currently under the “Spirit of Florida” otherwise known by the “Tail Number” of 92-0700.  Of course, B-2s didn’t have tails, but tradition died hard in the USAF.  The sad thing about the B-2 program was that there were so few in active service that they all had names.  With only 20 in active inventory, the 19 aircraft of the 509^th were the only combat capable B-2s in the entire USAF.  With all the news reports about the war with China, the B-2 had been suspiciously silent.   Unlike the BUFFs, the B-2s had remained at home in their shelters at Whiteman for the duration of the crisis.  Until now.

The Chief Master Sergeant (or “Chief”) noticed the two airmen speculating over the ordinance going up into the B-2’s bomb bay.  “Gents, that ain’t no JDAM.  That there is a Flounder.”

The older airman was suitably impressed.  “A flounder, no way!”

The youngest member of the group, an airman, didn’t know if he was being made fun of by his slightly older companion (airman first class) or by the titanically older Chief.  “No, really Chief, what is it?”

The older enlisted had some mercy for the young airman.  He had a son about that age.  “Kid, that there is Quickstrike ER, otherwise known as a Flounder.  Basically, you take your humble Mark 80 dumb bomb, you add your QuickStrike aerial mine kit and then strap on a JDAM ER guidance package.  Viola!  A precision aerial delivery vehicle for sea mines!”

“No shit?”

“No shit.”

The next voice was a full on command voice.   “Chief, we good to go?”

The Chief gave the wing commander a lazy salute.  “Yes sir, we will be locked and loaded in twenty minutes.  Wing scheduled to rotate in one hour.”

“Very good Chief, carry on.”

Major Weatherly hid a grin behind his hand.  He had some memory of being eighteen but it seemed another age.  With all the preparations for taking the wing to war, he needed something to distract him from the grim business at hand.  The two young airmen made him think of his own sons and wonder about the world he was going to leave them.

For the past five days, he had been planning the strike for “downtown” or mainland China.  Taking a bomb wing anywhere close to mainland China was not a safe or intelligent thing to do, but it was exactly what the B-2 was designed for.  Penetrating very complex, integrated air defense systems was the reason why the B-2 was created and it was the best platform on the planet for doing that.  For the past few years, the wing had been involved in bombing terrorists or third world countries which is roughly equivalent to towing a boat with your Ferrari.

Despite the B-2’s origins as a deep strike nuclear platform, the real sweet spot for the B-2 was actually deep penetration precision strike.  Being able to take the aircraft deep into enemy territory meant that the planes of the 509^th could go where they wanted and do what they wanted with relative impunity.  In reality, the delivery of nuclear weapons wasn’t a precision game.  Get within a few thousand meters and you are just fine.  An ICBM could deliver a nuclear weapon with much greater precision than was really needed.  Plus or minus half a mile just wasn’t an issue when you were delivering a forty kiloton warhead.  Getting in close with a precise surgical strike, that was a different matter.  A B-2 could drop a JDAM on a specific vehicle or into a specific window in the middle of Beijing.  Or that was the theory anyway.  Nobody had ever attempted to penetrate an air defense network as complex or as sophisticated as the one guarding mainland China.  Until today.

Today, the mission was something only the B-2 could do.  Penetrate deep into Chinese radar coverage and deliver a spread of precision munitions.  In this case, the munitions in question were aerial mines.  Traditionally, mine-laying from aircraft had been a very dicey business.  The traditional way of doing it was to fly very low and very slow in a precise pattern to deliver the mines where you wanted them.  The US Navy had attempted to do just that during the Gulf War with P-3 Orions and had lost one and almost lost several more.  The effort was abandoned due to the dangers involved.  That was against an Iraqi air defense that was very hyped at the time, but ultimately proved less than a challenge for the USAF.  Against China, a similar raid would have been suicide.

The Quickstrike program had originally been designed to allow the Air Force to use a standard bomb platform and add a mine package on the outside.  The bombs would then sink to the bottom and use sensors to explode when ships passed overhead.  Unlike the contact mines of world war two, these mines were very difficult to detect and very deadly.  Until the introduction of the new JDAM ER package, the mines had been very powerful but difficult to deliver, and thus, only used once in actual combat.  The key advance had been when the JDAM ER guidance package, which was also designed to use a standard Mk 80 series dumb bomb was added to the QuickStrike mine package.  The JDAM ER package was basically a set of stubby wings and a guidance package that allow the bomb to fly its self to a very precise set of coordinates.  This meant that for the first time, aerial mines could be delivered from standoff ranges with a very high degree of precision.

With a range of over 6,000 miles, the B-2 would fly non-stop from their base in Missouri, launch their weapons off the coast of China and return to the United States with only four in-flight refuelings.  They could make it round trip without refueling from Guam, but it had been decided to hold the B-2 fleet back inside the USA in case of an attack on Guam by China.   The crews had trained for this and some of them had performed similar missions over Iraq, Syria, and Afghanistan.

Weatherly had met a few F-117 pilots who were veterans of Desert Storm.  Originally, there had been some doubt about the original stealth bomber’s ability to penetrate into the advanced anti-aircraft network of Iraq.  Later, it had been realized that only a very lucky shot could endanger the F-117, but at the time, going “downtown” to Baghdad was a very ballsy thing to do.  The pilots Weatherly had talked to used the phrase “pucker factor” when flying into the SAM and AAA infested environs of Baghdad that first night.  However, not one F-117 was lost over Iraq during the entire conflict.  He sincerely hoped his upcoming mission would be similarly uneventful.

As he walked into the squadron briefing room, the men and women waiting for him surged to their feet.  “As you were.”  The command crews settled down into their seats.  “Ladies and gentlemen, I am sure you have been wondering when it would be our turn to get into the war.  This mission is our turn.  The mission for tonight is to deliver a crippling blow to the People’s Liberation Army Navy.  If those Army assholes can have a Navy, then the US Air Force can take them out.”  There were polite chuckles at the weak attempt at humor.  “As you know, the mission tonight is to block the harbor approaches of the three main PLAN harbors, here, here and here.”  Using a laser pointer, he indicated the strike targets for the mining mission.  “While none of us have had a practice run with the new Flounders, we have all dropped JDAMs and the protocols are exactly the same.  In the end, this thing is just a JDAM ER going for a little swim.”  This time the chuckles were genuine.  Weatherly was warming to his lecture topic and his audience was paying rapt attention.  As if their very lives depended on it.  Which, it was fair to say, they did.