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1988, George AFB: I wrote this comic to spoof what I considered to be the unhealthy training atmosphere in the Wild Weasel Wing. Having just come from Germany, where the flying was as demanding as anything in the world, to George, where much of the time was spent droning around at 20,000 feet, I felt we were "losing the edge." Fortunately, less than two years later I returned to Spangdahlem and the 23 TFS I had just left.
Part 1A: I play the "Friend up Front," and one of my favorite WSO's of all
time, Digger Odell, plays the
Guy in Back."
The text reads
Setting: Somewhere on the Nellis Ranges, Present Day. (i.e. the Nellis EW range)
Mover L (my flight commander) as Roscoe 01: Roscoe 01's working a Mike, 12 O'clock, two zero miles...One's Killer!
Roscoe 02 (Mav): I don't like this &^%$ Mover, I'm breaking high and right to see what's up.
Roscoe 01: Roscoe flight BREAK RIGHT!!! Signal has resolved to the dreaded SA-20!! Take it down, push it up! Terminate! One terminate!!! [Mover had a tendency toward being overtasked...as evidenced by the time he shot his own wingman 5 seconds after fights on of an ACM sortie]
Roscoe 2: Negative, Mover, he's just playing...he'd have shot by now!
Roscoe 01 [Brutus Demarzio, backseater]: Man, that SAM really screwed him up. He'll never be able to find Beatty [a nearby TACAN]
Roscoe 2: Don't worry Brutus. Just stay on my wing. I'll take you back on the Tango 61 Alpha [the typical George IFR arrival]. Everything's gonna be OK.
Roscoe 2: Pull up, Mover, Pull Up! You're about to land in the overrun!
RAPCON: Approaching Decision Height [in Germany, with the worst flying weather in the civilized world, we NEVER flew IFR approaches unless it was, well, IFR.]
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