in the supercarrier amidships. The tanker sank. With the big ship under tow to Newport News, Virginia, for repairs at the builder's yard, it would be at least three weeks until another battle group could be assembled and dispatched to the Western Pacific.
'This is going nowhere,' thought the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, and he noisily cleared his throat to gain the attention of the assembled group. When he spoke, it was with the controlled authority that had made him the first Marine to ever hold the post. 'I should point out that nations do not have allies, but common interests. Things are getting a bit crazy over there. Which means a lot of people over there are eager for the craziness to go away. Which means I think we can count on the leadership of that region offering us some options, if we're just ready to make use of them. Let me make several suggestions.' As he spoke, and wrote ideas on a white board at the end of the conference room, a few thin smiles began to crack on the faces of the attendees. The National Security Advisor was among those smiling.
It had been a long night for the Leadership Council of the Communist Party of Vietnam, and the meeting was still not over. A bunch of elderly, has-been revolutionaries, thought General Truong Le, the Vietnamese Defense Minister, trying to hold on to the memory of a war long since gone, with ideals long since dead. The Premier himself may have been a veteran of Dien Bien Phu and Hue, but even those in this room did not have the personal courage to point out that his service had been as a staff headquarters political officer. Now these old men were going to decide the fate of two nations, and they were not viewing the situation with any sense of reality.
'We will not stand for this interference in our internal politics by the capitalist powers,' stated the Premier flatly.
'What would you have us do against the power of nations like America and Russia?' asked the Defense Minister. 'We are a third-rate power facing the most technologically advanced societies in the world.'
'Precisely the kind of negativism that our Great Leader Ho had to overcome during the Liberation decades ago. Where would we be now if they had listened then to defeatist drones like you?' barked the Premier. 'I'll tell you what we are going to do to the weak-willed dogs that call themselves the leaders of countries,' he continued. 'We're going to declare a blockade around the whole of the so-called RVN, just like the one the UN thinks they can slap around us. Then we'll see who chokes first!' He finished the statement by slapping the meaty palm of his hand on the polished conference table, stunning the assembled members of the council.
'But that means that we are granting de facto recognition of the RVN in the process,' protested the Foreign Minister.
'I should also point out that this action carries with it certain international responsibilities, and is almost certain to place our forces directly into conflict with the UN forces that will be deployed to this area,' said General Truong Le calmly, 'and that their so-called rules of engagement will never be as insane as the ones they imposed on themselves during the Wars of Liberation.'
'I speak for the Council,' said the Premier coldly. 'The action will go forward as I have ordered it!' Nobody on the Council tried to protest.
No Vietnam veterans flew tactical aircraft for the U.S. Air Force… they hadn't in years. A few senior officers remembered going 'downtown,' but these were generals; and if they were allowed in fighters at all, they had to satisfy themselves with two-seaters. But the colonels and the majors were veterans of another air war. They knew what it was like to fight where their targets were
Now the 366th logistics officer took her place in front of the map. 'Okay, ladies and gentlemen, we're going to run another no-fly-zone operation with a possible air offensive somewhere in the rub,' she said. 'Now, where the hell are we going?'
'The F-16s and tankers will bed down initially at Takhli, about one hundred miles north of Bangkok. Seems that the Thais got real cooperative when the bombing in Saigon started a few days ago. In fact, everyone has been that way.' The officer grinned. 'Good facilities. The Royal Thai AF has operated F-16s there for years. Excellent runway — it was built long enough to handle 'hot day' takeoffs of F-105s. The rest of the wing, for now, will go to U-Tapao, right on the coast about seventy miles southeast of Bangkok. The facilities are great. We can bring seagoing tankers of jet fuel and munition ships right into the port. We're going to forward-base the Combat SAR guys up-country at a Thai Army airfield called Sakon Nakhon and a little opium-smuggling airstrip called Chiang Rai in the middle of the Golden Triangle. It's hairy up there; we'll need some heavy security on the ground. The guys down at Fort Benning at the JFK School are sending some instructors and volunteers to take care of that problem. Meanwhile we'll be working to reactivate old air bases at Udon and Korat about two hundred miles northeast of Bangkok for any other coalition nations that send in forces later. Great locations, but the Royal Thai Air Force abandoned them a few years ago, and it'll take a lot of engineer work to make the jungle and cobras give 'em back.'
Brigadier General Jack 'the Knife' Perry, the 366th commander, looked at the map, and memories flooded back. For the first time in years, he desperately wanted a cigarette. 'Thank you, Colonel,' he told his logistics officer, who seemed much too young for the silver eagles on her shoulder boards. 'Now how do we get there, Kurt?' He turned to his operations officer.
'The State Department guys are still twisting arms over some of the overflight rights, but it looks like we can do a Great Circle.' That was the shortest and hence most economical route between any two points on the globe. 'First stage: Mountain Home to Elmendorf, Alaska. If the weather permits, we can put some tankers at Shemya for refueling, but the ramp space there is tight. Second stage: Elmendorf to Yokota and Misawa, Japan. The Russians will let us base a squadron of ANG tankers at Petropavlovsk, as long as we buy the fuel from them and pay in hard currency. In emergencies they say we can divert to any of their fields in Kamchatka or Sakhalin. No diplomatic problem with Yokota and Misawa so far, but the Japs want us in and out fast, with
The general nodded. Good staff work on short notice. His scarred index finger traced a line on the map, skirting the Chinese mainland air-defense buffer zone. 'How about a shortcut across Vietnam?' he said, with a wicked grin.
'No way, sir. That's not the way we've trained to deploy,' the ops officer said with an answering smile. 'By that point our crews will be tired, and we don't want to risk tangling with their air defenses before we've had a chance to knock them down a little. It would be a bad start for the mission if we lost a few planes just to save a couple of hours' flight time.'
The general reluctantly nodded. There was no point in staging another 'Doolittle Raid' as a stunt. The way to win an air campaign was by the book.
It had been a long trip, and double issues of 'piddle packs' had been the order of the day. For the aircrews of the 366th's A+ Package on their way to Thailand, it had been a day of contrasts. From the desert of Idaho, to the cold mountains of Alaska, now down to the equatorial jungles. They had one more refueling to go in about an hour, and were looking forward to seeing the tankers. The eight F-15Es of the 391st TFS, in two four-ship formations spaced a few miles apart, were cruising southwest at their most economical speed and altitude, about 470 knots/859.5 kph. at 20,000 feet. The Strike Eagles were combat loaded with a mix of GBU-24 LGBs, AGM-65 Mavericks, GBU-15s, and three 630 gallon/2,377 liter fuel tanks, as well as the usual load of two AIM-120 and two AIM-9 air-to-air missiles. They were accompanied by eight F-16Cs of the 389th, each armed with a pair of AGM-88 HARM missiles, an AN/ASQ-213 HARM Targeting System (HTS) pod, an external ALQ- 131 jamming pod, two AIM- 9s, two AIM-120s, and a pair of 370 gallon/1,396 liter fuel tanks. These two groups were being escorted by eight F-15Cs of the 390th FS, armed with a full load of four AIM-120 AMRAAM and four AIM-9 Sidewinder AAMs. These last were headed 'downhill' to 18,000 feet/5,486 meters, where they would meet up with a pair of KC-10A tankers
