closer look. “Target Sierra One is down!” he radioed, exultant. “Scratch
one Hind!”
“Roger that,” Batman replied. “Good spotting, Dixie!”
But Dixie didn’t respond, not immediately. As he passed low over the
valley, he had a clear view of the downed helo. Most of the main cabin
directly beneath the engine compartment and the twisted, shattered
rotors was gone, crumpled up in a fire-blackened skeleton that was
rapidly being consumed by fiercely burning flames. The tail section was
more or less intact, however, extending out of the fireball at a jaunty
angle. He could just make out the words UNITED STATES ARMY stenciled in
yellow on the olive-drab paint.
Nearby, a Russian-made Hip Mi-8 was settling to the ground, and figures
were running from the open rear door. Then the F14 was past the valley,
and he couldn’t see anymore. .. couldn’t see if there were survivors,
couldn’t see the flames.
“Oh, my God!”
Cat’s words over the ICS said it all. Dixie felt a cold, hard lump in
his chest and throat, felt sweat sticking the skin inside his helmet,
felt the hammer of his heart beneath his safety harness.
Years of training, years of work, years of battling idiocy and prejudice
to get him his one golden chance as a Navy combat aviator.
And it had just ended with a downed U.S. helicopter.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “No!”
0954 hours (Zulu +3)
Tomcat 201 One mile abeam U.S.S. Thomas Jefferson “Tomcat Two-oh-one,
Charlie now.” The voice of Commander William Barnes, Jefferson’s Air
Boss, sounded over Batman’s headset, giving the order to commence his
final approach to the carrier.
Batman pulled the control stick over, guiding the Tomcat into a 4-G turn
toward the carrier deck. He cut back on the throttles and hit the
Tomcat’s speed brakes to slow the fighter to below three hundred knots.
The computer started to reset the position of the wings to a forward
position to compensate for the reduced speed, but Batman overrode the
controls without really thinking about it. Most naval aviators liked to
come in with the wings in their swept-back position, claiming the
computer’s preferred wing setting made the Tomcat look like an oversized
goose. Batman’s actions were virtually automatic after years of handling
carrier landings, but this morning he was doubly distracted.
He still couldn’t believe that he’d just scored an own goal downing an
American helicopter. Damn damn damn! How in hell had that happened?
He forced himself to concentrate on the approach. Batman flicked on the
switch to lower the Tomcat’s landing gear as he continued the turn. His
HUD display showed his speed falling below 230 knots, and Wayne dropped
the wing flaps to further reduce the speed of the aircraft. He scanned
his console readouts, noting the rate of descent, 615 feet per minute,
and the range to the carrier, just over three-quarters of a mile. His
angle-of-bank was twenty degrees as he finished his turn and lined up on
the flight deck, making his approach from astern.
Jefferson was making fifteen knots, steering east through relatively
calm waters under a clear blue sky. Landing conditions were almost
ideal, and for a pilot who had made landings in the most difficult
weather conditions–and, worse yet, at night–it should have been an
easy approach. But Batman Wayne was finding it hard to stay focused, and
on something as tricky as a carrier landing that could be deadly. From
his vantage point behind and above the carrier, the flight deck seemed
an impossibly small target set in the wide blue expanse of the sea.
He could see the ship’s Fresnell landing system mounted on the squat
tower on the port side of the carrier, the “meatball” that helped a
pilot estimate his glide slope. “Tomcat Two-oh-one, seven point one,
ball,” he radioed. Calling the ball was the signal that he had the
meatball lined up and was starting his final approach with 7 1 00 pounds
of fuel on board.
“Roger ball,” Barnes acknowledged. That passed control of the approach
from Pri-Fly to the Landing Signals Officer stationed on a platform just
below the Fresnell lens.
“Glide slope’s a little steep, Batman.” The voice of Lieutenant Gene