by Dale Brown
was in the command post, so he went over to the command
post communications center and dialed the number.
"Samson. Go."
Roma's mouth went instantly dry. "General Samson? This
is Joe Roma, returning your page."
"Paisan! How the hell are you?" Terrill Samson asked ex-
citedly. Their times together at the Strategic Warfare Center
had always been relaxed and informal, more like a college
campus or pro sports team rather than a strict military unit.
And Terrill Samson had been like a pro football coach-un-
relenting and harsh at practices, demanding and disciplined
during the missions, but not afraid to share a cigar and a
pitcher of beer or two after a successful game.
"I'm doing fine, sir."
"Got your message," Samson said. "I'm sure you've got
to be knee-deep in the generation out there, right?"
"That's an understatement, sir," Roma said.
"You pulling a line?"
"Sortie one," Roma replied. "The other lines are coming
up slow but sure. "
"I thought you were the S-01 crew IOSO." The S-01 crew
Instructor Offensive Systems Officer was the number one
bombardier of the best, most experienced crew on the base-
that slot belonged to Joe Roma.
"They put me with E-05," Roma said. "Great crew, but
they got no experience with SIOP stuff. Hardly anyone does
around here-the maintainers, logistics, crewdogs, even some
of the commanders."
"That's why we got you old warhorses pulling crews, pai-
san," Samson said. "Something else on your mind, Joe? I'm
a little busy.
308 DALE BROWN
FATAL TER RAI N 309
"Yeah," Roma said, his mind reeling after what had to be
the understatement of the century. He hesitated a moment, un-
sure whether or not he should bring this up, then decided, what
the hell: "General, what in hell are we doing loading nukes?
I'm not criticizing you or my orders, and you know I'll do the
job, but what's out there that we can't blow up with a GATS/
GAM or conventional cruise missile?"
"Do I have to explain the whole concept of nuclear deter-
rence to you, paisan?" Samson asked, with only a hint of
humor in his voice. "Just do everything by the book and you
guys will be fine."
"Sure, we'll be fine, sir," Roma said. "But the whole con-
cept of using forty kilotons to destroy an entire city is silly,
when all we need to do to stop the enemy is blow up a com-
mand post or comm center or runway. If the nukes did some-
thing that conventional bombs couldn't do, I could understand
what's going. on, but the nukes ... well, hell, sir, you know
what I'm talking about. We discussed this lots of times at the
SWC.11
"You're preaching to the choir here, my friend," Samson
said. "Tell me something I don't know."
"Give me a few hours and I'll put together a few B- I sorties
that stop C inese a( in ir trac Oma sai con-
fidently. "Load us up with some GBUs and some real defense-
suppression stuff and tell us what the targets are, General-
me and the boys will take them out for you. We don't need
the nukes. "
"The word came down from CINCSTRATCOM, not me,"
Samson said, referring to Admiral Henry T. Danforth, com-
mander in chief of U. Strategic Command. "The admiral
said he wanted the bombers to go formal to the big dance."
"Does he really intend to use the nukes, sir?" Roma asked.
"Hell, Joe, you know that all we need to do is prove to the
bad guys that we might use them, demonstrate our resolve, and
we've won," Samson said. "The boss thinks that generating
the bombers and sticking them back on alert will show the
Chinese and everyone else that we mean business."
It was the old Cold War schtick, Roma thought, and frankly,
he thought he'd never hear the "party line" from Terrill Sam-
son. Samson's basic philosophy was very simple: give him an
objective, and he'll find a way to do it. Even if the White
House had given Samson a vague order like "Stop China,"
Samson would have found a way to do it-and without using
nuclear weapons, which Roma knew Samson thought were
barbaric at best and murderous at worst. "Loading nukes on
the Beaks and Bones isn't going to convince anyone of any-
thing, sir, and you know it," Roma argued.
"The word came from on high, paisan," Samson said.
"Too late to argue about it. They tell me Jump'-yada, yada,
yada, you know the rest."
"Pardon me for speaking out, sir, but if you want to send
the Chinese a message-if you think, like I do, that the Chi-
nese or some radical Japanese planted a backpack nuke on the
Independence-then blasting through Chinese air defenses and
destroying a couple missile bases will do the trick. They know
full well that we won't start a nuclear war, and we know that
the Chinese don't have the force structure to wage a nuclear
war or stage a massive invasion."
"Joe, I agree with you, but you've got to remember that the
Independence and three other ships were blown up by a nu-
clear weapon, and we lost sLx thousand troops," Samson said
pointedly. "The Joint Chiefs think it was the Chinese, and if
it was, it'll be the second time in a month they've attacked
American forces and the second time they used nuclear weap-
ons. They're obviously trying to force the U. out of Asia,
and the President is not going to allow that. We're lining up
other options, but the President and Secretary of Defense def-
initely wanted the nuclear forces back on alert until we find
out what bases we have available to us overseas and whether
or not we can use the carriers."
"Sir, I understand that the President wants revenge," Roma
said, "but no one out here on the line thinks he's going to use
nukes on anybody. It's an exercise in futility." He paused,
then: "General Samson, the recent skirmish against Iran, the
attacks on the targets inside Iran and on that carrier-that was
a stealth bomber attack, wasn't it? You planned those attacks,
didn't you?" Samson didn't answer right away, so Roma went
on: "If so, sir, let's do it again. Pick the targets in China that
are the greatest threat to us or our allies, then send in the B-
Is and B-2s. We'll loudly kick ass for you, I guarantee it."
There was what felt like a long, uncomfortable pause; then
Samson said distractedly, "Stand by one, Joe," and the line
went quiet. Roma wished this conversation had never taken
place-he was embarrassing himself in front of his mentor and
310 DALE BROWN
superior officer. It sounded as if Joe Roma was squeamish
about the possibility of using nuclear weapons, or going to
war, which he definitely wasn't. He also felt that perhaps he
was being perceived as taking advantage of his access and
friendship with Terrill Samson to voice his opinion, which he
certainly didn't need right now.
Suddenly, the line opened up again: "Paisan, yo
u're on the
line right now with another fellow bomber puke. Joe Roma,
say hello to Colonel Tony Jamieson, pilot type and ops group
commander at Whiteman. Tiger Jamieson, meet Phone Colonel
Joe Roma, navigator type, Stan-Eval chief at Ellsworth." The
two aviators exchanged confused "hellos."
"You are not going to believe this, guys, but you both called
me out of the clear blue sky, with no invitation or prompting
from me or anyone, within five minutes of one another-and
you both suggested the exact same damn thing," Samson said,
with obvious pride in his voice. "We're busy loading nukes
on both the Bones and Beaks, and two of the best heavy driv-
ers in the business call to tell me I'm making a big mistake.
Maybe I am.
"You asked about the attacks on Iran, Joe-Tony Jamieson
was the AC on all of them, including the five-thousand-mile
trek across Chinese, Indian, and Pakistani airspace."
"You flew those missions, Colonel?" Roma asked incred-
ulously. "I want to hear about all of the missions, sir. It's
exactly the kind of thing we've been preaching for years-the
power of the long-range bombers, especially the B-2."
"The Bone would have no problem doing exactly what I
did, Roma," Jamieson said. "We can cruise through Chinese
airspace in anything we want-they don't have the gear to
detect us, let alone shoot us down' We damn well proved we
can hit any target anywhere in the world, son-only problem
is, the mission was classified, and when some little snippet of
information leaks out, the President gets hammered for it. But
yes, we sure as shit did it."
"Who was your mission commander, sir?" Roma asked.
"I'd like to talk with him, too."
"You better ask the general about him, " Jamieson said,
with a definite edge of sarcastic humor in his voice. "I don't
think I'm at liberty to discuss him. He was a good @tick, knew
his shit cold, but he scared the bejeezus out of me every time
I stepped into the Beak with him."
FATAL TERRAIN 311
"Jamieson's MC was a guy named McLanahan, Joe."
"I knew a guy named McLanahan who won all those Fair-
child Trophies in Bomb Comp a few years ago," Roma said.
"Kinda hard to forget that name. He won two Bomb Comps
while flying B-52s, back when B- Is were the hot new jets to
beat. "
"He's the one," Samson said. "He's been working with me
on another project, since the White House started getting all
the heat about the B-2 raids over Iran. He flies a modified B-52
bomber that is unlike anything you have ever seen. When they
grounded the B-2s, I talked the White House into sending a
few of these modified B-52s over the Formosa Strait to keep
an eye on the Chinese. The plan blew up in my face, although
McLanahan's BUFFs did okay."
"Sounds to me like the brass effectively grounded all the
heavy bombers, sir," Jamieson observed. "Loading the fleet
up with nukes means they won't be flying if war breaks out
with the PRC.-
"Looks that way, Tiger," Samson said.
"So now the brass doesn't believe anything you say, and
so if you went back to them and tried to convince them to quit
using nukes and plan some long-range strikes with conven-
tional munitions, they probably won't listen to you," Jamieson
added bluntly. "So where does that leave us?"
"I don't know if my opinion means squat in the Pentagon
or the White House anymore," Samson said resolutely, "but
I'm going to try to put a halt to this nuclear nonsense and get
back to the business we've been in for forty years now-
carrying big-time heavy iron to the enemy. I want you two to
put together some attack sorties for us so I can go back to the
Pentagon and give them some alternatives."
"Now you're talking, General," Jamieson said happily.
"'We can get on the network and have some Bone and Beak
sorties drawn up right away."
. "Absolutely," Roma said excitedly. "I'll pull some pre-
planned packages off the shelf and update them with the cur-
rent intel-and I know, if the plans are approved, that we can
generate some non-nuclear planes a hell of a lot faster than
the nuclear ones."
"That's for damned sure," Jamieson agreed.
"Then get to it, boys," Samson said. "Make us proud!"
312 DALE BROWN
OVER THE FORMOSA STRAIT, NEAR JUIDONGSHAN,
FUJIAN PROVINCE, PEOPLE'S REPUBLIC OF CHINA
SUNDAY, 22 JUNE 1997, 0245 HOURS LOCAL
(SATURDAY, 21 JUNE, 1345 HOURS ET)
The Chinese People's Liberation Army Air Force radar con-
trollers aboard the Ilyushin-76 Candid, an ex-Russian airborne
radar plane, spotted the first rebel attack formation just minutes
after the aircraft launched from bases at Taichung and Tainan
on the island of Formosa. "Attention, attention," the control-
ler called out excitedly, "enemy aircraft attack formation de-
tected, one hundred twenty miles east of Juidongshan."
The operations officer stepped back to the radar controller's
console and studied the display. Unfortunately, it was not a
sophisticated display like what the American E-2 or E-3 Air-
bome Warning and Control System plane had-the targets ap-
peared as raw radar data blips with simple numeric electronic
identification tags attached, with no altitude readouts; speed,
bearing, and distance were computed by centering a cursor
over the target using mechanical X- and Y-axis cranks and
reading the information off the meters. As the formation got
closer to the mainland, however, the blips started to break into
pieces-now there were at least four blips, which meant any-
where from four to sixteen attackers.
"Comm, report enemy aircraft contact to Eastern Fleet
headquarters," the ops officer ordered-
"Yes, sir," the communications officer responded. They
had no satellite communications link; all long-range commu-
nications had to be done by shortwave, so it took a lot of time.
Finally: "Eastern Fleet headquarters acknowledges contact and
replies, 'continue patrol as ordered.' End of message."
,'Very well," the operations officer said.
There was a slight pause, during which the ops officer could
see several heads turn in his direction in some confusion. Fi-
nally, the senior controller asked, "Sir, would you like us to
vector in air defense units on the attackers? We have units of
the 112th Air Anny, two flights of J-8 fighters, four planes per
flight, within intercept range." There was a very long, uncom-
fortable pause. The senior controller repeated, "Sir, the rebel
attackers will be over our airspace in less than five minutes.
What are your orders?"
FATAL T ER RAI N 313
"Have one flight 'of J-8s stay behind to guard this aircraft,"
the ops officer finally responded. "You may send any avail-
able J-6 fighter units- to intercept. "
"But the J-6s are not certified for night intercepts."
"That is why they ha
ve you to guide them," the ops officer
responded. "The J-8s stay with us. Send any J-6s you feel
have the nerve to fight the Nationalists."
"Yes, sirl" the controller replied. He assigned the task of
guarding the 11-76 to one of his best intercept officers, then
ordered another controller to call up two flights of J-6 fighters
from Fuzhou to intercept the attackers. "Sir, we count at least
four flights of attackers," the senior controller reported. "If
the rebels follow their standard attack plan, that means at least
sixteen hostiles. Shall we call for more defenders?"
"Negative," the ops officer replied. "You will protect this
radar plane with all air assets available to you. Do not let any
rebel fighters near this plane."
"But, sir, if this is a complete attack formation-uh, sir,
sixteen bombers would cripple Juidongshan."
"You have your orders, senior controller," the operations
officer said. "Not one enemy fighter gets within fifty miles of
this plane, or I will have your stars. See to it." The senior
controller had no choice but to comply.
Without a threat from Chinese air defense fighters, the Tai-
wanese attack went off without a hitch. It was a full strike
package, with all sixteen Republic of China Air Force F-16s
equipped with Falcon Eye imaging infrared targeting and at-
tack sensors and loaded with attack munitions. First to go in
were four F-16s carrying four CBU-87 cluster bombs each,
targeting the Chinese CSS-N-2 Silkworm coastal anti-ship
missile installations and air defense missile and artillery sites-
these were easy, prey for the cluster bombs. The Mk 7 cluster
bomb dispensers carried a variety of anti-personnel, anti-
armor, and anti-vehicle bomblets, scattering destruction over a
very wide area of the naval base with good precision and dev-
astating results.
While the first wave of F- l6s pulled off to assume a combat
air patrol over the target area, using their wingtip-mounted
Sidewinder missiles and internal 20-millimeter cannon, the
second wave of eight F-16s moved in with four Mk 84 high-
drag general-purpose bombs, targeting the submarine mainte-
