Warriors by Barrett Tillman

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by Barrett Tillman


  Chaim Geller filed away that very useful bit of information for future reference. As if knowing his place of birth will help us win an air battle, the section chief thought. "I take it that all the transmissions that were monitored were in English?"

  The major said, "Yes, including the Saudis'. That only reinforces our suspicion that the foreign instructors are still flying with this . . . Tiger Force." The officer, though a professional, had difficulty keeping the spite out of his voice. "Colonel, will our diplomatic people make a protest over this? I cannot imagine we would let American and British citizens actually fight for the Arabs without raising the matter in Washington and London."

  "I don't know, Eli. That's up to the politicians."

  IN THE FOLLOWING TWO WEEKS JOHN BENNETT AVERAGED barely five hours sleep per night, logging almost twenty-five hours in his beloved 001. The two-seat Tigershark with the grinning mouth and leering eyes painted on the nose was a familiar sight at the outlying fields as well as Riyadh.

  Maintenance and support facilities had to be provided at the forward bases, and provision had to be made for regular resupply. Existing fields were used as primary bases, with staging fields farther out. Wadi al Qalibah, 120 miles inland from the Gulf of Aqabah, was the most westerly. Others spread across the north to the east: Tabuk, with two preexisting strips only 60 miles from the Jordan border; Al Jouf "old" and Al Jouf "new," some 120 miles south of the line; and Badanah "old" and "new," 125 miles from Jordan and merely 40 miles from Iraq.

  Tiger Force's main base in central Arabia was northwest of Ha'il, 300 miles south of the Jordanian border. Here Bennett expected to conduct the crucial F-20 operations, and he spent considerable time at the facility. He had drafted plans long ago for this base: parallel runways a half-mile apart to minimize bomb damage, underground fuel tanks, second-level maintenance facilities, and prefab housing and administrative buildings. The king had been as good as his word; the Ha'il base would be operational within the month.

  Bennett also had consulted with the Saudi air force command on how best to defend Arabian airspace. He proposed a plan which would force the Israelis to fight the air battle in Saudi airspace, denying them the opportunity to inflict attrition over their own ground. In this manner, Arab pilots who ejected would be available to fight again. Israeli aircrews bailing out would be lost to Tel Aviv. And Bennett knew that, more than aircraft, tanks, or weapons, Israel above all valued her sons. As much, he thought in those bitter moments, as he had valued Claudia.

  The Turkish and Moroccan F -20s trickled in, ferried by Saudis as the Northrops became available. Tiger Force also made arrangements to take on two squadrons worth of Jordanian F-5 pilots. Bennett, recognizing their worth, knew the value of keeping a military organization intact. The Jordanians had flown together for years. British-trained, supported by an air-minded monarch, they were among the finest of all Arab pilots. Though displaced three years previously by the collapse of their government, they remained proficient and motivated. Bear Barnes and a few of the Saudis from Class One oversaw their transition to F-20s.

  Bennett's main problem in Riyadh was convincing some top-level Saudis that Tiger Force actually could fight the Israelis to a standstill. He had anticipated the Arab attitude, but its depth always surprised him. Confined as he had been to the task of building Tiger Force, with its high morale and professional competence, he realized with a start that the mystique of Israeli invincibility worked a strong influence on Arab minds. One hasty meeting in the Riyadh air ministry was typical.

  The discussion started easily enough when a colonel in the Saudi operations office complimented Bennett on Tiger Force's showing against the Israeli F-15s. Bennett's response was unexpected. "Actually, Colonel, we don't regard that action as very successful. We broke even, discounting the RF -4C."

  "But surely such a result must be considered a victory for us," the Saudi insisted. "It is most unusual for any Arab nation to fight the Israelis to a draw."

  Privately, Bennett conceded the point. How many times had Arab forces, their air arm quickly beaten, suffered devastation that only a modem army can receive from an effective, unopposed air force? Miles of burning tanks, trucks, and artillery pieces tossed about the desert like abandoned toys, the rotting bodies of Muslim soldiers bloating in the heat, was the collective memory of two generations.

  Bennett noted that each man in the room was hanging on his every word. He placed his hands on his hips and spoke forcibly, buoyed by the power of his conviction. "I don't know how much military history you gentlemen have read, but permit me an analogy. I'm reminded of the attitude in the German Imperial Navy during World War I. Though sailing in warships of murderous power, many of the Kaiser's admirals never adjusted psychologically to centuries of Rule Britannia. They found it hard to imagine Germany actually defeating the Royal Navy. So the Kaiser's dreadnaughts sortied believing they might lose, while the British never considered anything but defeating them."

  Bennett did not realize it immediately, but that short, heartfelt speech was repeated throughout the Royal Saudi Air Force by those who heard it.

  Thus, Bennett's "fade away plan," as he called it, won acceptance. The king himself still hoped to avoid a full-scale war in the region, for that would only endanger his nation and his throne. But the monarch's advisers--coaxed along by the suave Safad Fatah--agreed to the air plan at length. Satisfied that the spadework had been done, Bennett addressed himself to a final bit of pleading.

  That afternoon at tea with Fatah, Bennett had earnestly pressed his case. "Safad, I wish to ask you this favor for me." It was almost the first time Bennett had addressed the minister by his given name. "I have seen with my own eyes"-a favorite Arab phrase--"the effect of an undeclared war. It is said that such declarations are out of date in the late twentieth century. But please consider my request on behalf of Tiger Force and all of your Saudi warriors." He paused, looking Fatah square in the face. "If there is war with Israel, or with any other country, ask the king to issue a declaration of war. Make it formal, make it official, and make it stick."

  Fatah blinked, hiding the surprise he felt. It seemed such an unnecessary request. But he trusted the American's judgment. "What reason should I propose to His Majesty?"

  "Legal protection for your people under international law. I saw that absence of a declaration at work on my friends, on my country in my lifetime. At least provide your soldiers with access to the international community and legal recourse if there's a full-scale war." Leaning forward in his chair, Bennett concluded, "I'm not confusing a raid or a skirmish with a war. I recognize the legal and practical differences between them. But, Safad, if a real war is worth fighting, it is worth declaring. Will you pass on my thoughts to the king?"

  The dignified old Arab said solemnly, "Yes, my friend. He shall hear your words. "

  Chapter 12

  Balhama Air Base 10 September

  Colonel Solomon Yatanahu sat in his office, feet un-militarily propped on his desk, his Nomex flight suit open almost to his navel. He was still perspiring from the forty-minute workout with three of his F-15 pilots. Yatanahu was commander of Balhama Air Base, one of three Israeli airfields near Beersheva. And though he was technically no longer on operational status, the forty-two-year-old officer still liked to compete with the younger men in air combat practice. Prematurely gray with a chiseled face and startling blue eyes, Yatanahu had spent his life in fighter aviation. More than two decades of flying, including combat in three wars and eleven aerial victories, had honed his professional senses to a fine edge.

  Yatanahu had come up the hard way, which is to say the only way, in the intensely competitive world of the Israeli fighter pilot. In order to lead a fighter squadron, the commanding officer had to maintain his standing in the top three positions in tactics and gunnery. If he slipped from the upper bracket in either category, he was likely to lose his command.

  The Israeli Air Force's attitude is pragmatic if nothing else. The operating philosophy is "
experience leads." Yatanahu had led missions as a captain with a lieutenant colonel flying section lead in the number three position. And he knew of special-purpose missions led by lieutenants because the junior officers possessed the qualities and experience which made them best-suited for the job. Ironically, perhaps the only air force in history which had come close to the Israeli philosophy was the Luftwaffe during World War II.

  Solomon Yatanahu studied the debriefing reports on the Saudi airfield reconnaissance. It had been known for some time that the Saudis had a capable F-20 force, trained by American and British instructors. Given the background of the instructors, it was to be expected that the Tigersharks would put up a good fight. Yatanahu knew as well as anyone that much of the Israeli fighter doctrine had been absorbed from exchange tours with U.S. Navy squadrons. Unlike most Arab air forces, which adopted Soviet-style formations and tactics, the Saudis had flown loose deuce, employing fluid tactics.

  Reading the pilots' comments, Yatanahu noted that the biggest problem was simply seeing the F-20. He could well understand it. Yatanahu had been an exchange pilot at Nellis Air Force Base in the 1970s, flying against the F-5Es of the' aggressor squadrons in the Nevada desert. The Tiger II could not outperform the F-15 and F-16 in most regimes, but with enough F-5s on hand, it was almost impossible for other pilots to keep a safe lookout through 360 degrees. The little F-5 was murderously hard to see, and the F-20 was the same size with 70 percent more thrust!

  The school solution was to engage the Northrops at long range with radar-guided missiles. The Israelis had more success with the Sparrow than its American designers had, partly because of far greater institutional experience. The Heyl Ha'Avir remained on combat status every day of the year. But the Israelis were unconcerned with the artificialities which dogged the Americans. Superb military intelligence allowed the Israelis to engage radar targets beyond visual range with little concern about hitting a friendly.

  Even so, Yatanahu knew that the simple weapons work best.

  Sparrows and other radar missiles were complex and expensive, so the heat-seekers were the weapon of choice. His own experience was typical. Of the eight Syrian and three Egyptian aircraft he had shot down, Yatanahu used Sidewinders or Israeli-built Shafrirs on all but three. Like most fighter pilots, he was emotionally inclined to use his cannon because it was personally more satisfying. "No kill like a gun kill," the Americans always said. But the heat seekers were accurate and efficient. Though Yatanahu loved to tell about his gun kills, he acknowledged the infrared missile was the champion MiG destroyer.

  The colonel knew that the Saudis and their advisers would anticipate the Sparrow option and would work to deprive the Israelis of it. As yet, electronic countermeasures had not been a big factor in air-to-air combat. The F-20s facing his squadrons across the Jordanian border came without radar for the most part. The colonel knew also that there would be a reason. This so-called Tiger Force would seek to engage in close-in maneuvering, the "knife fight" where the radar missile could not be used. He fervently hoped the Israeli scientists and engineers were working on a means to negate the various U. S., French, and Soviet jammers now available to all major Arab air forces.

  The politicians in Tel Aviv were maintaining their hard line, so there would be another war. The time had passed for negotiation. Yatanahu did not set policy. But there had to be a better way.

  Solomon Yatanahu was an agnostic. He would not openly deny the existence of a god--that was contrary to Israeli military law. But he had doubts. In his lifetime he had seen enough misery inflicted upon innocents--especially children-that he had to question the mercy, and therefore the existence, of a supreme being. He acknowledged that this earth also was a place of much beauty, at least as much in the sky as on the ground, so perhaps-just perhaps--there was some sort of ordered plan.

  Long ago Yatanahu had decided that if he were a praying man, he would pray for more wisdom in the world. He considered it insane to pray for anything like peace, particularly in his part of the globe. That was the trick, he decided: not to pray for the absolute best that could happen, but to pray for the best that was possible.

  DAMASCUS, 15 September-The governments of Syria, Iran, Iraq and Libya issued a joint communique today, demanding that Israel withdraw from occupied Jordan. Though no specific timetable was advanced, the message stated that if "good faith negotiations" were not forthcoming "in due course," a military solution would be employed by the Arab powers.

  While not formally parties to the communique, in separate statements the governments of Egypt and Saudi Arabia went on record as supporting the call for Israeli withdrawal from Jordan. The Saudi foreign ministry in Riyadh went even further, adding that prolonged failure at negotiating a settlement to the lingering crisis could result in a declaration of war against Israel.

  Bahrain

  John Bennett read the article in his air-mailed copy of the London Times. He wondered what he might have set in motion following his conversation with Safad Fatah, but the question did not bother him. He had told Bear Barnes, "At least if our guys go to war, they'll be entitled to whatever protection the law allows."

  But the Tiger Force CO had little time for philosophizing. He had been busy coordinating RHAW acquisition with Riyadh, obtaining a mixture of American and French electronic "black boxes" for his F-20s. There would not be enough to equip every Tigershark, but at least each flight leader could be so equipped. He knew that if the Israelis came across the border again, they would come in strength with full support-including radio jamming and electronic deception. He also knew the Royal Saudi Air Force had configured several Tornadoes for the same role, with modifications to the E-3s to back up ECM operators.

  Overall, Bennett expected the respective electronic warriors to cancel out one another. The air battle would be decided on the basis of the human eye and the human heart. And he would not have it any other way.

  Northern Arabia, 18 September

  0905 Hours

  Brilliant motes of light flashed across the high plateau, 248 times faster than a supersonic aircraft. Forty-two F-15s, F-16s, Phantoms, and Kfirs-all bearing the blue and white Star of David--were supported by the powerful airborne jammers of other aircraft orbiting across the Jordanian border. The attackers' targets were four Tiger Force fields-those considered to pose the greatest threat to Israeli frontiers after the initial clash two weeks before.

  The Heyl Ha'Avir plan was a classic. It relied upon simplicity, speed, and as much surprise as possible. From Wadi al Qalibah to the New Badanah strip farther east, the Israeli aircrews had been carefully briefed on times, routes, and altitudes to each Saudi field. Unlike most Israeli blitzes, this one had not been rehearsed as thoroughly as possible, but the timing and heavy radio and radar jamming were enough to encourage mission planners for a good chance of success.

  Leaving the Jordanian-Saudi border, most of the Israeli jets were twelve to fifteen minutes from their targets. Monitoring Saudi radar frequencies revealed which operating bands were most likely to be used, and therefore it was possible to cloud the screens with hundreds of false targets. The "snow" on radar scopes washed out the true blips, most of which were below the ground-based radar horizon anyway. Similarly, voice communications circuits were jammed by electronic noise which made extended conversation nearly impossible.

  Ed Lawrence had Black Squadron at Orange Base that morning, doubling up with Ahnas Menaf's unit. The policy was to rotate the various squadrons between different bases to prevent the Israelis from gaining a clear picture of the air defense net. The two COs were in the operations shack when the low-frequency walkie-talkie circuit came alive.

  "Attention all bases, attention all bases. Unidentified aircraft crossed the border southbound about two minutes ago. Mirror signals indicate crossing on a broad front at low level. Suspect Israeli aircraft inbound."

  Lawrence cast a glance at his former student. In two seconds they were both out the door, sprinting for their planes. Lawrence punched the bu
tton to activate the siren and the duty flight immediately started engines. Already parked at the downwind end of the runway, the four Tigersharks were airborne in sixty-eight seconds, scrambling for altitude. Twelve more F -20s were started and taxiing in minutes, led by Lawrence. But he feared what was likely to come. Setting a fast pace for his flight, he taxied past two fighters parked on the ramp for maintenance. Then he pushed the thought from his mind.

  According to prebriefed plan, the four flights fanned out at staggered altitudes in an arc from west through north to northeast. If bogeys were inbound, they would almost certainly arrive from those quadrants. Lawrence checked his wingman's spread as he leveled off at 18,500 feet. He checked his watch. Four and a half minutes had elapsed.

  Menaf's duty flight, first in the air, made first contact. Through scratchy voice radio Lawrence detected the flight leader's report:

  "Many bogeys at low level northeast of the field. Am engaging. Out. "

  Moments later there were half-discerned calls of bandit sightings, frantic warnings, and G-muffled cries for breaks. Looking to his right, Lawrence saw an ephemeral flash on the desert floor and crisscrossing missile trails. After a moment's reflection he led his wingman in a turn back toward the field. He estimated that by arriving at 12,000 to 14,000 feet in the next few minutes he could interrupt the bombers' roll-in.

  The exec had called it correctly, but he was a shade late. The Israelis had maintained a sandblower mission profile, hugging the ground until within four miles of the field. Then the Kfirs popped up to get a look at their target, selected their dive headings, and rolled in. The first two were down the chute as Lawrence and Badir headed for the second section from the right side.

 

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