The Boys in Blue Ch. 07

Chuck showed them their course on an overhead projector, indicating their waypoints.

While they made notes on their flight charts, they noted the height, and speed to target, weather, humidity, and all the necessary information required before a mission.

This one, would be different from others, they had flown; this one entailed firing the seven-barrelled 30mm GAC 8 Avenger Gatling gun.

When he had finished briefing them, Chuck picked up a parcel from the floor.

"We had these made for you guys," he said with a smile opening it. He pulled out four lightweight windcheaters in American air force blue.

On the back in a large circle was the caricature of Bill's drawing of the wild boar, with a yellow background, Wild Boars in bold red letters above it. He reached into the parcel once more and removed four American air force baseball caps. On each, was a badge of the Wild Boar with a number.

Robert's had a bold 1 beneath the caricature.

"Something for you guys to remember us by when you get back home," Chuck said smiling.

"So, Wild Boars are you ready to roll," he said as they rose from their desks.

They were at a thousand feet above the desert, in loose formation Robert slightly in front as they approached the final waypoint. Robert toggled the radio.

"Wild Boar-1 to Wild Bore's 2-7 and 8 hold position, making my attack run now Wild Boar-1 out".

He lost altitude, as he reduced speed, adopting a 30-degree dive; he could see the targets ahead; 3 scrapped trucks.

He disengaged the safety, and as the trucks crept into his sight, and depressed the button.

There was a moment's hesitation, as the Gatling gun turned up to speed, and then a tearing sound filled the cockpit as 30-millimetre canon shells firing at 3900 rounds a minute shredded the trucks.

Robert engaged the safety and climbed, he was amazed at the stability, of the aircraft when he had fired.

He returned to the formation, ordering each in turn to make their runs

Back at base they gathered in the de-briefing room,

Chuck had received the results from the Range Marshall, who had observed the attacks.

"Well," he began, "For your first live fire mission I'm impressed, really impressed. Robbie, Tim and Bill you got a target destroyed score, Tom you got 90% target destroyed. Robbie you fired 680 rounds, Tim, 734, Bill 824 and Tom 646.

The thing with the Avenger is that it takes a second or two to spin up to speed the rate of fire is less until it does; that's where you went wrong Tom, you have to allow for that, but even, so it's a remarkable score. Get some chow, you will be going up again this afternoon, to do it all over again. After all it may have been a fluke," he said smiling.

Chuck entered the Colonel's office and nodded when the Colonel indicated the coffee pot in his hand.

He sat down in the chair opposite the Colonels desk and accepted the coffee mug handed to him "Thanks Ray," he murmured. Inside the office with just the two of them they dispensed with the formality of rank, having served together for nearly five years.

The Colonel sat back down behind his desk and took a sip of his coffee before beginning.

"So what do you think of them?"

Chuck took a moment to organise his thoughts.

"They are natural born aviators, the best I've ever trained, you tell them to do something, and it's done first time. Frankly I'm amazed how fast they have adapted to the A10, most of our boys think it's a retrograde step backwards, when they come here, not so these guys.

They recognize the potential of it, and if they do manage to convert them to what they want, then I could see us buying their technology back from them."

The Colonel nodded, "I've been telling the brass that for years. How do you rate them has individuals?"

"Their 100% loyal to Robbie, you get the idea that they would follow him into hell."

The Colonel interrupted "But that stunt he pulled over there, sounded like he was suicidal."

"Yeah, I thought so too when I read the papers, but now having met the man I've changed my mind. He wasn't suicidal but rather calculating; he weighed what could be done to save those guys, and then did it. If he were suicidal he would have stayed with the aircraft, he didn't, but ejected and took his chances."

"Sounds like a natural heroic, son of a bitch," the Colonel murmured.

"He'd argue with that," Chuck chuckled, "he gets embarrassed talking about it. I read his file; he's done three tours over there, the last one he volunteered for, when he was due for a rest, and flew over sixty missions. You know how he lost his folks; I think that has a lot to do with it."

The Colonel nodded again.

"Tim his 2IC, is reliable, almost has good has Robbie in the air, in fact; the other two are good as well; I'm surprised they don't have more senior rank than they do."

"Well their air force is much smaller, than ours; so just to stay in, I suppose you have to be good," The Colonel commentated.

"Oh, they're, not nerds, they have a sense of humour, albeit Brit humour, but beneath that facade they are totally professional."

"So you'd give them an A," the Colonel said.

"More like an A Plus," Chuck replied.

For the next four days, they flew two live fire missions a day using not only the gun, but rockets and the Maverick AGM-65 air to ground missile.

They all agreed the A10 was the most stable gun platform of any aircraft they had ever flown.

On the last day of training, they finished early; the Colonel had organised a farewell party in their honour.

Robert found himself at a table with Chuck and the Colonel, and the talk turned round to Afghanistan, neither of the two Americans had served out there and were never expected to.

"So Robbie what's your take on it, are we winning, or more to the point can it be won?" The Colonel asked.

Robert considered the question for a moment before answering.

"It's a complex situation sir; people above my pay grade make the decisions. I can only comment, on what I've seen, and heard, and it's only my personal opinion you understand.

The Taliban would claim it is a war about religion, Muslims against unbelievers.

Unfortunately, their aspect of the Muslim religion is at odds with the teachings off Mohamad. They only use the parts that advocate Jihad, total war. A view that a great deal of the common people who live there disagree with, but are too afraid to express their views.

The Afghan people, by nature, are a warrior race, they have been at war since Alexander the Great, when they're not fighting invaders, they fight amongst them self's, mainly on religious and tribal issues.

After the Russian pulled out, the country fell into turmoil, one warlord against the other. When the dust cleared, the Taliban ran most of the country. Most of their troops were orphaned children, which had been indoctrinated in to their beliefs, which was an extreme form of the Moslem religion. No music, no films, no singing no dancing anything that could be classed as enjoyment was banned.

The men had to grow beads and have their heads shaved; the women had to wear the Hijab, the full black robes that covered everything except a slit for their eyes.

They were made to be completely subservient to a man's wishes. Any infringement of those rules resulted in death; in fact death, or maiming, seems to be the only punishment for anything.

Under their rule, the country almost fell back to the Stone Age,

Their only economy being opium, whilst there were strict rules about the Afghan using it, they didn't mind its being shipped off to the West, as it would only kill unbelievers. At that time, 85% of the world's opium came from Afghanistan.

The West, America and Britain were content to let them get on with it.

Until 9/11.

Intelligence knew Osama Bin Laden and his Al Qaeda mob, were in the country; the US gave the Taliban the ultimatum, hand him over, or else. They refused, so, else, happened.

Initially, the coalition forces had success, and they pushed them almost out of the country. They retreated back into the Torra Borra Mountains or Pakistan.

But then, we took the pressure of them, by invading Iraq. It gave them valuable time to reorganize themselves and reequip. They kept low until they were ready, then slowly began to filter back.

It's believed that Osama's gang are helping in cornering the opium market which helps to finance the kind of war they fight best, guerrilla war fare.

It wasn't helped by the fact a lot of the government officials were corrupt, playing both sides to feather their own nests, but their being rooted out.

They change tactics, and we have to change ours, they used to be one step ahead of us but I think we are level with them now.

In my opinion the secret of hurting them is with the opium, stop that and the war would fizzle out for the most part. Without funds, they can't function has an efficient force, you don't get arms dealers giving credit.

But, the central problem with that, is the opium is the only cash paying crop that the farmers can grow to support their families. When the Afghan Government starts to pay the farmers to grow crops other than opium, will we see, a significant change in the war.

So to answer your question Colonel, can we win? Yes, I think we can, if the Afghan Government takes steps to address the farmer's problems, and the public keep faith with us."

"It seems like Viet Nam all over again, but, at least we are not in it, totally alone this time." The Colonel smiled as he stood up, "I'll see you tomorrow, before you leave Robbie."

They were all gathered in the dispersal area has the C130 landed.

The four Brits were wearing their Wild Boar windcheaters and baseball caps in honour of the occasion.

Their valises packed, and their RAF serge uniforms on coat hangers covered by a clothes bag. They would change over the Atlantic.

A crowd of the American air force personnel was there to see them off. Robert shook hands with them all, when it was Chuck's turn he expressed his gratitude for his support and the flights to Phoenix.

Lastly he shook hands with the Colonel.

"Robbie if the next group is half as good as you guys, we'll be in safe hands over there."

They waved has the ramp rose, and then settled into the canvas bucket seats ready for take-off, each man silent as they reviewed the past four weeks in their mind.

They had been flying for an hour when Bill broke the silence.

"Hey, I wonder if the next four, will be going into Phoenix, they may even meet the girls."

Robert sat back, his head against the bulkhead; he saw Jill in his mind, and hoped they wouldn't meet her. He made a vow to himself not to ask when they returned.

To be continued.