I looked around once more to make sure everyone was in position and accounted for. The sky was clear and serene; it was hard to believe that we were on our way to cause so much destruction. I realized I was focusing on my reflection in the canopy and snapped myself back into focus.
“OK, you guys, let’s hustle. We ran a little behind on the launch for whatever reason and we have to make it across the beach before that op window closes and sends us home. We don’t want those Charlie Hornets getting out glory now do we?”
I pushed the throttles forward and the rest of the flight followed me in.
“Looks like we’ve got some eyes up in the air looking for us,” I called as a Snow Drift radar appeared on my HARM page. “Everyone double check and make sure that you’re configured for EMCON.”
“Two, confirmed.”
“Three, EMCON still on.”
“Four same.”
“OK,” I said, looking down at my MPCD and HSI. “We’re about to cross into the beach and we’re on time. From this point on, observe radio silence unless absolutely necessary.”
Within seconds of that last transmission, we found ourselves crossing into Iran:
The Iranians knew something was up. More radar emissions were showing up on my EW page. The Snow Drift wasn’t alone; now a ZSU-23mm gun was looking too:
As we discussed in briefing, we got low to the deck and moved into a trail formation. I made a final radio call to the AWACS to make sure that we were clear of air threats.
“Panhead 11, Jupiter 11 is feet dry en route, request picture.”
We were good to go.