Free Imminent Threat by William Robert Stanek Page B

only guess that the rest of the crew gave unanimous thumbs up because Tennessee Jim was on radios to the pilot telling him words that made me proud to be combat crew. “Pilot, MCC, the mission crew is willing to stay. We’re jamming. The decision is ultimately yours.”
        Captain Sammy’s response was to take the Lady into another sharp combat turn. After we had leveled out, the copilot quickly reviewed emergency procedures with us. I heard Paladin’s group trying to raise the incoming group on radios. Still there was no response.
        Seconds crawled painstakingly by with the mounting uncertainty. I nervously fidgeted back and forth in front of the window. If I survived this tour without getting ulcers, it’d be a miracle.
        With our renewed jamming, the enemy AAA sites sliced up the heavens in ever-thickening torrents. I was sure they also heard the distant hum of jet engines. Firing blindly as they were, they’d try to knock anything out of the sky that sought to overfly them, friend or foe.
        Friend or foe, I thought to myself. Suddenly I had an idea. “Pilot, Spotter, anyone tied to hail on emergency? Maybe they’re keyed wrong?”
        “That’s a good call, Spotter. I’ll check it out.”
        I watched as the green glow of afterburner trails formed behind the approaching fighters. They were getting closer. It was, indeed, a three-ship formation. MiG Sweep was prepared to move in. Somewhere above us, a two-ship CAP anxiously waited.
        Out in the distance beyond one of the AAA sites, I saw what appeared to be movement again. As I re-centered on them, closer movement caught my eye. “Pilot, Spotter, traffic low four o’clock distant. And three o’clock approaching.” It had to be the package egressing, or so I hoped.
        I heard Paladin Leader’s voice tweaking in my ears, “Shadow, Paladin, good call. Comms channels are correct now. Package egress confirmed. All sightings confirmed as friendlies. Repeat, incoming are friendlies.”
        I sighed, relaxed slightly. I watched as the second package came out in wave after wave, safely detouring around the pockets of enemy AAA. What remained of my anxiety trickled away with the remaining minutes on orbit.
        As we made the homeward trek, it was clear Tennessee Jim and Captain Sammy were proud of their crew. We had stuck together admirably in the face of uncertainty and adversity. We also had a newfound respect for the guidance from Gypsy that we had started to take for granted.
        In the coming days lurked a mission when we would lose Gypsy’s support again. This time we would be over the heart of Iraq and it would cost much more than anxiety.
        

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
Wednesday, 30 January 1991
     
     
     
    We had an early morning alert, which came with distressing news. During the night Iraq had begun their first major ground offensive.
        Yet this news was also strangely releasing. We had all been waiting for Iraq to make some sort of move, a show of force, anything at all. The first attack came an hour before midnight. Iraqis entered positions held by the Marines forty miles inland from the banks of the Persian Gulf. Countering, the Marine regiment pounded the incoming Iraqi mechanized column.
        Shortly after this attack, a larger force consisting of an infantry battalion mounted in armored personnel carriers along with a company of tanks and a platoon of armored cars rolled toward the small border town of Khafji. The advanced guard of this force took the mostly deserted town several hours later.
        Before daylight came to the Saudi desert, another attack was mounted against the Marine positions by a battalion of Iraqi tanks and infantry. Through what remained of the hours of darkness, the Marines fought gallantly aided by AH-1 Cobra Gunships and Harrier jets. As daylight finally came to the desert, A-10 tank killers joined the fray.
        Seated in the crew