Tim, I’ve been meaning to give the LANTIRN system a try, but the squadron with which I’m flying in the campaign isn’t a LANTIRN block, so it’ll have to wait for now.
Denny, thanks. I have two more in just a minute. First, though: as one of Qt3’s most frequent attendees at the Church of Switchology, I find DCS to capture the switchological fun a little better, because it models aircraft with more inbuilt idiosyncrasies. At the same time, given an hour or two of flight sim time, I’d much rather go BMS these days—it just models war better. For instance, in the excellent (and free) A-10s Over Kosovo, one of the airmen who flew the titular Warthog talks about marking targets. Rather than futz about with smoke rockets, they just dropped a 500lb bomb; the dust plume from the impact stood out and lasted a long time. You can do that with BMS, because the bomb impact particles stick around a good minute or two.
Okay, storytime.
Day 2, 0300 hours: I decided I wanted to fly a night mission, because I haven’t done that yet. The target is a bridge fifty miles or so northwest of Seoul. The bombing run went well, but on the flight back, AWACS called ‘Sunset’—that is, “I’m out of here for now, you’re on your own.” Figures we’d get jumped. A three- or four-ship of MiG-21s found us, and our first warning was the RWR going off. A moment later, my wingman called Fox 1 inbound, so I turned and popped flares. Both missiles missed, and we got into a dogfight in the dark at 15,000 feet, over the water west of occupied Seoul. Night dogfights are hard. The NVGs model system noise now, so I had a hard time getting eyes on anything. Fortunately, I wasn’t able to select a Sidewinder the one time I did have a good track on someone, because it turned out to be my wingman, who blew up as one of the MiGs hit him with a burst of cannon fire. He ejected, but last I checked, he was listed as MIA in the squadron screen, so I guess the rescue chopper didn’t get there in time. One on three isn’t my kind of fight, so I turned south and hit the burners. Fortunately, I still had gas in my drop tanks, and was able to stay far enough ahead of the MiGs until the MiGs chasing me got in range of a CAP flight coming up from the south. I made it back alive, albeit low on fuel and suffering from some rather shaky hands.
Day 2, 1200. Back to daytime flying for me, where at least you can keep track of the baddies when they get in close. The mission was a strike against a factory in Seoul turning out supplies for the North Korean army, and the MiG forecast read clear. The briefing pointed out that there was an SA-15, a capable short-medium-range air defense system known to the Russians as Tor, along the flightpath, but otherwise, the North Koreans were not believed to have any air defenses in the area. We got to the target area, and AWACS confirmed that no MiGs were in the offing. I dropped my bombs, then orbited and gave my wingman two targets. I noticed a ‘3’ pop on on the RWR, but the SA-3 is a fairly long-range system with limited engagement capabilities against modern, high-maneuverability targets, so I thought nothing of it. So of course, on the eastbound leg of my orbit, the RWR gives me a launch warning, and sure enough, it’s the SA-3. After a tense moment or two, I get out of range, and call my wingman back. He’s on his way when the SA-3 launches on him. Being a little further west, I have time to look over my shoulder and watch the missile’s smoke trail rise toward him. He manages to evade, and we both make it home with no further excitement, climbing about 10,000 feet over the Tor’s engagement altitude on the way home.
I expect we had some strong words for the intel section at the base.
