“The Nevada Air Guard, eh?” Mortonson remarked. “The Reno B-1 bomber unit? Not only do they
“The investigators are now saying crew error and possibly a dummy missile hit them,” Hammond replied. “The crew was performing a ‘scram’ maneuver, which is a tight turn to get away from a ground threat. The finding is unofficial right now because we have a lot of new information, but it’s been demonstrated in two different B-1 simulators.”
“How did it happen?”
“A flight manual procedural ‘Warning’ violation,” Hammond responded. “The final report will be out in a few days, sir, but it appears the pilot initiated a steep bank turn over sixty degrees during a high-G low-altitude maneuver — in fact, he may have exceeded ninety degrees. The bank automatically causes the terrain-avoidance system to do a fail-safe fly-up. At the same time, the crew is trying to slow the bomber down…”
“Slow it down? Why? Isn’t going slower dangerous?”
“No, because the B-1 turns faster at a slower speed,” Hayes explained. “It’s called cornering velocity. Every crew computes that speed for the altitude and gross weight it’ll be at during the bomb runs. If they decelerate to cornering velocity, they can turn faster without fear of stalling.” He paused, considering, then added, “They’d have the bomber at max Gs and throttles idle. This crew popped their speedbrakes to slow down faster. Deploying speedbrakes also decreases roll efficiency, which is why bank angles are limited by procedure to forty-five degrees.”
“The theory presented by the unit said that several of the little papier-mache rockets the Navy uses to simulate surface-to-air missile launches flew into the speed-brakes, causing them to not fully retract,” Hammond went on.
“And?” Mortonson asked.
“It was confirmed by Navy range officers,” Hammond said. “They didn’t expect the B-1 to make that tight turn, thinking they were firing well clear of the plane. Several of the rockets came close enough to the bomber so that they might have hit it. Combine that with low speed, crossed-up flight controls adding more drag, and low altitude, and you have your accident. The papier-mache rockets would leave no trace, so there was no evidence at the crash scene. Engineers are going over this scenario, and so far we think it’s the most likely explanation.”
“The bottom line is, our crews screwed up,” Mortonson repeated bitterly. “That is unacceptable. Totally unacceptable.”
“It happens to the best crews, sir,” General Hayes said somberly. “In the heat of battle, the crews react. Most times their training takes over, and they come out of it okay. This time it didn’t happen.”
“That doesn’t cut it, General,” Mortonson said. “Losing planes in combat is one thing. Losing a two- hundred-million-dollar bomber in a training exercise in good weather is not acceptable.”
“Fly low and fast, and even one small mistake can be deadly,” the chief of staff said. Hayes had lost too many good friends in aircraft accidents — he knew that it could happen even to the best of the best. “The crews train hard. And these were the best Air National Guard bomber crews in the force — and one of the best in the entire world. They were aggressive…”
“They screwed up, General,” Mortonson emphasized. “I don’t care how aggressive they were or how many trophies they’ve won. Something happened. Someone lost it. In war, I can understand that — but in peacetime, no. We have rules, don’t we, General? We have rules of engagement? The crews are briefed not to push it to the edge, right? Train hard, I know, but they aren’t encouraged to be unsafe just to win a training exercise, are they, General?” When Hayes hesitated, the secretary of the Air Force looked as if he was going to explode in rage. “Well? Are they?”
“The crews are briefed on the rules of engagement, yes, sir,” Hayes responded. “But both sides play it as if it’s the real thing. They use every bit of their skills and experience to win…”
“So I noticed,” Mortonson said. “Reminds me of you and Samson, pulling that stunt today with that plasma- yield weapon. You do anything you think you need to do to win. Well, I think you’ve screwed yourselves this time with that kind of thinking.
“General, this is not a failure of our crews — it’s a failure of our training, which is a failure of command,” Mortonson went on. “After the stunt you pulled out in the Navy test range, I’m not surprised that our crews have the same attitude. Win at all costs, right, General? Forget the regulations as long as the bombs are on target, right?”
“Sir, I am the senior uniformed officer of the United States Air Force,” General Hayes said. “I am responsible for each and every man and machine under me, and I include the Air Guard and Reserves. If you need a sacrificial lamb, sir, I’m your man.”
“General, I goddamn guarantee that all of our necks are on the chopping block right now,” Mortonson said. “Your head will just be the first one to roll.” He knew he should fire Hayes right now, do it before Congress and the White House questioned why he waited so long. But he realized he couldn’t do it. Hayes was wrong, dead wrong… but he was wrong for all the right reasons.
And he did have Coronet Tiger. The real antiballistic missile systems — the airborne laser, the Navy’s Aegis Tier Three, and the space-based laser called Skybolt — were all many years in the future. Congress was so frustrated with the delays, failures, and cost overruns that they were ready to either cancel the entire program or, worse, buy an inferior system.
This Lancelot system might save their bacon, even from something as serious as setting a subnuclear device off in the Navy’s face.
Mortonson thought for another moment, then asked, “Why a Guard unit, General? Why not an active-duty unit?”
“Money, sir,” Hayes replied. “Right now this project is totally off the books, buried in HAWC’s black research budget. Brad Elliott bounced enough checks and wrote enough IOUs to get a handful of his creations flying — it’s the way he always did things. But Terrill Samson doesn’t want to play it that way. He knows it’s not his job to create tactical units — his job is to test hardware. If he gets full authorization, he’ll turn over his technology and weapons to whatever unit we want and provide training for that unit. Otherwise, he’ll put it all back on the shelf where it came from.”
“If we decided to deploy an active-duty antimissile squadron, we would need to either convert a unit or stand up a new unit, both of which will take time and money,” said Mortonson.
“With the Air National Guard, we use the states to help fund the program, sir,” Hammond pointed out. “The states will pay the bulk of the costs — the physical plant, the personnel costs, and the cost of daily training and upkeep. We give the states the planes, pay for the upgrade equipment, and we pay the costs of certifying each unit to our standards. If the President federalizes the unit, we pay the states a fixed fee. It’s a good deal all around.”
“But the main reason General Samson suggested using the Air Guard is performance,” said Hayes. “The bottom line is, the Air Guard guys are good. Their personnel are as well trained and as knowledgeable as any active-duty unit. The unit that lost the plane won the last Bomb Comp trophy. They are the best around.”
“Why the hell is that?”
“It’s a completely different world in the Air Guard, sir,” General Hammond said. “Flying for the Guard is treated as a special privilege, like belonging to a special club. It’s more competitive because there are fewer slots, so they only take the best of the best. Each candidate is handpicked by the adjutant general and the governor. To weed out candidates, most units require their members to be longtime residents of the state, so you really have to make a long-term commitment to the unit. Some Guard members serve with the same unit and fly the same planes for years. They don’t get uprooted every few years or worry about promotion or reassignment like the active-duty troops do. They have to compete every year to keep their jobs, so they’re aggressive. They take pride in their units on an entirely different level than the active-duty force does, because they represent their hometown and their state.”
“You know about all the criticism we’re getting about Guard and Reserve units flying these planes, don’t you?” Mortonson asked Hayes. “Part-timers can’t handle sophisticated war machines. What do you think? Should we do away with the Air National Guard bomber program?”
“You know that talk is all bullshit, sir,” Hayes replied. “These guys are only replacement units, not frontline fighters. They train hard and work hard, but they’re not the equivalent of the active-duty force. They exist to give us
