by Dale Brown
As the briefing continued, Patrick was amazed at the level of detail. When he kicked off the exercise, he had given the squadron a simple notification order, a short message explaining the exercise scenario. The intelligence and operations support divisions had gleaned a massive amount of follow-up information from his exercise referees, then devised an entire realistic play-byplay mission profile based on the exercise scenario. He had no doubt that this was exactly what the real briefing would look like if this were an actual combat situation — with real-world country names, of course.
“In response to our mobilization,” the intelligence technician continued, “North Kimchee moved a large number of antiaircraft weapon systems into the area. We have received fairly good data about the types and numbers of systems, but since they’re mobile systems, it’s been difficult to pinpoint them. Then, early this morning, North Kimchee declared our actions tantamount to war, formally declared war against the United States and South Kimchee, and crossed the border with eight divisions, leaving three in reserve. We received the execution order this morning, and we expect the launch order in about six hours.
“Our primary job is to blunt the invasion by destroying as many enemy vehicles as possible,” the briefer went on. “Our prestrike satellite reconnaissance can tell us fairly accurately where the troop and vehicle concentrations are, so we’ll plan saturation bombing and minelaying operations against them. The problem is, we don’t have a very accurate picture of what the antiair defenses are, and we can’t risk any manned aircraft to find out.
“So the plan is to have a large salvo of Navy Tomahawk surface-and sub-launched land-attack cruise missiles lead the mission. The cruise missiles will be going against fixed targets farther north, not against the divisions that are going across the DMZ. But the cruise missiles will certainly draw a lot of fire. The Air Force will send electronic reconnaissance aircraft to try to pinpoint the locations and types of enemy antiaircraft that will try to shoot down the cruise missiles. We’re hoping that the recon planes will detect and pinpoint most of the surface-to-air missile sites during North Kimchee’s response to the first salvo of cruise missiles, and pass the position info back to us. We hope they’ll do a good job, because we’ll be coming in right behind them, before North Kimchee gets a chance to reload and regroup.
“So our secondary mission is to destroy as many targets of opportunity as possible so we can clear the way for follow-on sorties. We’ll use two-thousand-pound JDAMs for plinking targets of opportunity. We can expect to receive target coordinates in a multitude of ways, so part of our tasking on this mission is to see how carefully we can monitor all of the data sources for target info.”
The intel briefer put up a new slide with all of the various communications systems, their security authentication routines, and times of operation. “The primary source of target information will be via SATCOM hookup between us and the theater commander, which for the exercise will be simulated by the exercise referees. But we must also maintain listening watches on HAVE QUICK, VHF, UHF, and even HF for data relays by radar planes, mostly via the E-8 Joint Surveillance Targeting and Reconnaissance plane. We can get target info through a list of geographic coordinates that we can plug directly into JDAM, or receive a set of grid coordinates where we can look for targets on the attack radar. We also have to be prepared to upchannel any target coordinates we mensurate ourselves.”
Next came another slide, this one of area enemy defenses and threats. “We can expect everything in the book out there,” the briefer continued. Patrick liked the way he said “we,” as if he were going along on every sortie — which, judging by the way this unit pulled together, was figuratively true. “North Kimchee has an extensive list of Soviet and Chinese antiaircraft systems, from long-range modern stuff like the SA-10 and SA-12 to low-tech, optically guided antiaircraft artillery. They’re playing it smart, keeping their radars shut off and their units on the move, so we may not be able to detect or pinpoint these systems until close to your target times. Therefore, expect extensive last-minute inflight replanning and retargeting.
“After the attack, we will be deploying to a bare-base location in southern South Kimchee, approximately five hundred miles from the border. Weapons, fuel, equipment, and supplies have already been moved there under cover of darkness, so we feel fairly certain that we can conduct operations from there for at least two days before the bad guys realize where we are and start counteroffensive actions. We can expect to conduct three-per-day surge bombing sorties from this location. By that time, the Navy will have moved two carrier battle groups and more cruise missile shooters into the area to help out.
“Our sources tell us that, although not involved right now, the People’s Republic of Chowdown may support North Kimchee’s war effort by sending fighters and bombers to harass or even attack us during our deployment,” the intelligence briefer concluded. “Of course, if we fail to stop North Kimchee’s advance, we may come under direct attack by North Kimchee artillery. Therefore, supplies and support might dwindle. We’ll learn more later. Questions?” There were a few; after they were answered and discussed, Furness took the podium again.
Before she began, she wrote the acronym “BOTOTCHA” as item number one on the list of objectives of the mission. “Our overall objective on this mission is, as always, ‘Bombs on target, on time, come home alive,’” she said. “Our primary objective is to stop or blunt the North Kimchee invasion by destroying as many high-value strategic targets such as artillery sites, rocket sites, air defense sites, armor and vehicle concentrations, and vehicle marshaling areas as possible. Our secondary objective will be to destroy targets of opportunity transmitted to us by reconnaissance and intelligence sources. Our subobjectives, as always, are: no withholds due to crew or switch position errors; no unreacted-to threats; and clear communications and transmission of threat and intelligence information.
“Each sortie has two assigned targets, which will be attacked using Mark 82 AIRs from the forward bomb bay and CBU-89 cluster bomb dispensers from the aft bay. The Mark 82 attacks will generally be against armored-vehicle marshaling areas, vehicle and troop concentrations, and enemy weapons and supply depots inside South Kimchee. The CBU operations will generally be against air defense sites, artillery emplacements, and vehicle and troop concentrations inside North Kimchee, since we don’t want to hamper friendly vehicle movement with our mines.
“We will then withdraw to a refueling anchor area and await any follow-on targets transmitted via SATCOM. Follow-on targets will be attacked using JDAMs from mid-or high altitude. These can be any type of target, deep inside North Kimchee or over South Kimchee. You hit as many as you can, then withdraw to the forward operating location.
“The forward operating location for us will be Tonopah Air Force Base, Nevada,” Rebecca went on. “The Operational Support Squadron, Civil Engineers, and the Air Base Group have already deployed. After you arrive, you’ll reload with Mark 82s and CBU-89s, go on crew rest, and get ready to accept new strike packages.”
“What!” John Long exclaimed. A loud, surprised murmur of voices in the room echoed him. “We’re going to fly strike missions from a bare-base location?”
“Shut up, all of you,” Furness broke in hotly. “I know this isn’t standard. Our usual scenario is to turn our birds over to a forward-deployed active-duty unit that has already been set up in the forward location. Well, we’re not doing it that way. The bare-base operation at Tonopah will be ours — our gear, our spares, our planes, our staff, our plans. We can expect to do this for as long as ten days, so I hope you brought your toothbrushes and gave your honeys the full monty, because it’s going to be us in the sand with the bugs for a long time.”
Rebecca pointed to the list of tasks on the whiteboard. “Here’s your jobs, here’s the schedule. We’ll have a ‘how d’ya do?’ in thirty minutes.” She paused, then glanced at Patrick. “I suppose you all know that we’ll be having an evaluator aboard Rodeo’s flight. General McL
anahan will be in the copilot’s seat, so I guess that makes him invulnerable to SAMs, right, sir?” No response from Patrick. “Remember, we follow peacetime safety-of-flight rules,” Furness concluded. “We play it by the book. Any questions?” No reply. “Rise.”
As Rinc Seaver headed for the door, he placed several piles of papers on the table in front of Furness, then began checking off items on the whiteboard. “What’s this, Rodeo?” Furness asked.
“Got all these things done already,” Seaver replied.
“What? How? I just got the info myself an hour ago.”
“I got it an hour ago too,” Rinc said, “and I finished the planning. Computer target predictions, fly-through simulation, threat assessment, sun position, terrain analysis — it’s all there. I’ll get the latest intel briefing materials and plug ’em into the flight plans.”
Furness looked very irritated. She glanced up at McLanahan, who instantly got the message and stepped out of the briefing room. When he was out of earshot, Furness said angrily, “You better not have busted crew rest, Rinc.”
“Not that you know about,” Rinc shot back. Furness looked as if she was going to explode. “Lighten up, Beck. The general was already out on the ramp. I saw Heels coming out of the in-flight kitchen when I was going to the command post, so she was obviously on base before five.” Captain Annie “Heels” Dewey, one of the 111th’s three other female Bone crew members, was Furness’s copilot for this mission. “I showed up at the command post at five after five to get a copy of the frag order. They said you already picked a copy up—twenty minutes before me. Let me know when you’re ready to bust your own ass — I’d like to see it for myself.”
Rinc stepped closer to Furness, looked her right in the eye, and said in a low voice, “This is my requal check ride, Beck, my first evaluation after losing my crew and my friends. Let me sink or swim on my own. You do your job and let me do mine, and we’ll see if I got what it takes to keep my wings. If I don’t, I’m outta here.”
“No one wants to see you flunk, Rinc.” She lowered her voice a bit, then added, “Especially me. But we’re all under the gun here. We’ve got to do it like we always do it, by the book and together.” But Furness could see that Rinc wasn’t about to believe anything she said right now. “Rodeo, get together with the other crews and see if they need some help.”
“I’ve got a better idea, Colonel,” Patrick said from just outside the door. He reached into a flight suit pocket and pulled out a small stack of envelopes. Fanning them out like a deck of cards, he held them up to Furness. “Pick a card. Any card.” Furness looked puzzled, then selected an envelope. Patrick opened it, read it quickly, then nodded. “Good one. Very good.” He left the room with a smile on his face.
“What was that about?” she wondered.
“Change in scenario,” Rinc said. “He must’ve seen us arguing and decided to shake things up a bit.”
Sure enough, a few moments later the intercom buzzed, summoning Furness to the senior controller’s desk in the ready room. The ready room was filled with crew members scurrying around, collecting information and getting ready for the mass prestrike briefing in a couple of hours. “What is it, Scarecrow?” Furness asked the senior controller, Major Sean “Scarecrow” Asterman.
“Just got a note from the exercise referee,” Asterman said. “ACC wants to send three bombers straight to the forward operating location ASAP, without doing bomb runs. Battle staff will be meeting in five minutes.”
“Shit, shit, shit!” Furness exclaimed. That meant that the four remaining bombers would have to take up the target list of the three scratched bombers. And that meant a complete replanning — new weapons loads, which would take time, all new frags, all new target times, all new intelligence briefings, all new mission tapes. And they had less than six hours in which to do an entire day’s worth of planning.
Furness’s eyes scanned the room and found Brigadier General McLanahan talking on his secure cellular phone. Patrick looked up, saw her glaring at him, then smiled and waved the envelope — the one Furness had picked! It was the change of scenario! McLanahan must’ve noticed that the mission planning was going so well that he decided to throw a major monkey wrench into the works.
“I’m on my way,” Furness told Asterman. “Notify the crews and tell them to stand by to start replanning.” When Patrick walked up to her, she said in a low voice, “This isn’t realistic, General. We’re less than six hours from launching. Air Combat Command would assign the new sortie to another unit that hadn’t finished generating its sorties. We have to replan, download weapons, deconflict all our tracks…”
“Then I suggest we get on over to the battle staff meeting and find out what we need to do,” McLanahan said. “But the change stays. Or do you want to throw in the towel now? You have that authority.”
Furness gritted her teeth and mumbled a low, growling “No way, sir,” then spun on her heel and headed for the door. Patrick had to trot to keep up with her.
NEAR SUKCHON, DEMOCRATIC PEOPLE’S
REPUBLIC OF KOREA
SEVERAL HOURS LATER
The tactic was simple: Do what the North Koreans had been doing for years — only deadlier.
One hundred and sixteen feet long and displacing only 275 tons submerged, the Yugo-class midget submarine looked like a sophisticated but comical toy. Its top speed was twelve knots, but it was usually restricted to three or four knots because its temperamental diesel engines couldn’t stand the strain — some ocean currents around the Korean peninsula could easily outrun it. It was one of approximately forty-five midget submarines used by the North Korean Spetznaz special operations forces to infiltrate South Korea and land commandos and spies near its most important military bases.
But several Yugos had been captured intact over the years, and now they were the property of the Republic of Korea Marines.
Eight Yugos captured by the South Koreans had been towed by the South Korean Navy from their base at Cheju Island in the East China Sea to the naval special operations base near Inchon, refueled and rearmed, then sent on their mission. Staying at least three miles offshore, diving only when acoustic or electromagnetic threats were detected around them, they made their 150-mile trek across North Korea’s west coast in twenty hours. Before crossing into North Korean waters, two Yugos had to drop out of the formation because of massive engine or electrical malfunctions. But the men aboard the remaining subs considered the 75 percent survival rate a real bonus.
The last twenty miles to Sukchon, traveling into the mouth of the Yengyn Inlet, were made completely submerged. Using its passive sonar detection system to clear the area of nearby enemy ships first, the lead sub raised a global positioning system satellite navigation receiver on a retractable mast just two feet above the waves to get a position fix. Once the vessels reached their preprogrammed initial point, they bottomed themselves into the thick mud of the inlet about two thousand yards off the shoreline and waited.
Every spring, the Sukchon delta region falls victim to killer floods, so the area had recently been extensively rebuilt, with assistance from Chinese military troops and engineers. At least, that was the story most of the world knew. Those Chinese engineers had made other improvements as well: they had rebuilt nearby Sunan People’s Army Air Base into the new secret Military Command and Coordination Facility of the Korean People’s Army. In just two short years, Sunan had been transformed from a minor supply and transportation air base into North Korea’s main war-fighting nerve center.
The region was also the home of two full Army corps infantry commands, a mechanized corps command, nine artillery brigades, and five special forces brigades — over 100,000 troops stationed at three Army barracks in the immediate area. These served as the main reserve forces for the defense of the capital, Pyongyang, only thirty miles to the south. The air base facilities had also been beefed up: Sunan was the new home to one full air combat command, including a light bomber regiment, two ground-attack air regiment
s, five interceptor regiments, ten transport regiments, and three air defense regiments. Between one main and two auxiliary airfields nearby, more than three hundred aircraft were assigned to Sunan.
Sunan had other key forces as well. It was the new home of the Fourth Artillery Division, comprising eighteen medium-range and ten long-range ballistic missile batteries. The short-range FROG-5 and FROG-7 missiles had nonnuclear warheads, designed to blast any South Korean forces who dared move north of the Demilitarized Zone, just 120 miles to the south. Four medium-range mobile Scud-B missile batteries, designed to hit targets inside South Korea, carried chemical and biological munitions, mostly Vx nerve gas and anthrax agents. The other six longer-range rail-mobile Nodong-1 batteries, housed in concrete aboveground shelters covered with earth to camouflage them from spies, carried ten-to-one-hundred-kiloton nuclear warheads and had sufficient range to reach Seoul, Taegu, even Kwangju — effectively, over 90 percent of South Korea.
But the Command and Coordination Facility, or CCF, was the most important target at Sunan, and possibly the most important in all of North Korea, for reasons beyond its aircraft, infantry, armor, or even its deadly missiles.
It served as the main command and control facility for all of the military bases in North Korea, the Defense Ministry in Pyongyang, the Central Committee of the North Korean Politburo, and with Beijing. In times of conflict or heightened alert, the bases were linked together through the CCF so that the general staff could issue orders to all facilities at once, through one central coordinator. Although most of the world did not know it, Sunan was the tip of the spear, the key to the destruction of the Republic of Korea and the Communist occupation of the entire Korean peninsula.
