ROCKS AND SHOALS Read online

  “Also, this will help take some of the pressure off Russia. That should make them happy.”

  Major Floyd B. ‘Sparks’ Parks, USMC, commander of the Devil Dogs, “What’s the Ho Chi Minh trail, and where do the A-10’s fit in?”

  Hunt, “A nineties cultural reference that I’ll explain later. Once we secure the skies, you will handle the precision ordinance drops. The Warthog excels at that.”

  Lieutenant Commander William N. ‘Words’ Leonard, commander of the Iron Angels, “We can do that. Why won’t a thousand-pound bomb blow up a sub pen?”

  Thud, “The pens were designed to survive conventional bombing. I’ll come up with a bunker buster, Spike.”

  Hunt, “That works, Thud. Thank you.”

  Words, “Can they just rebuild the sub pens to handle the new bombs?”

  Hunt grins, “Sure, with resources they can’t use elsewhere. They build it in six months and we destroy it in a day. I like that ratio.”

  They nod, smiling. Thud, “We can do it, Spike. I’ll put together a plan to hit the bridges, too.”

  Hunt, “Okay, do we agree?” They all nod. “We wild weasel and strike the logistics first. We destroy all the known sub pens with the Thud bomb. Then we switch to factories. I’ll bounce our plan off Eisenhower. We need to get the bomber boys coordinating with us. The recon mission first. Swede, you have that. Thank you, gentlemen.”

  Swede waits for the others to leave. “You know, Spike, you don’t have to fly this mission.”

  “Swede, I do. If I’m putting our guys out there, I need to lead.”

  Swede nods, “Yeah. I get it. I’ll get the meteorology.”

  Cooper pops in, “Your greens are laid out. Eisenhower in fifteen minutes.”

  Hunt sighs, “Right. Swede, take Mossberg.”

  “Roger that, Spike.” He smiles.

  She shakes her head, “Damn it.” She grins at him, “Thank you.”

  When she gets to her office Andrews is waiting, “The San Francisco will be home tomorrow morning. I’ve turned on a helicopter.”

  “Thank you.”

  OFFICE OF THE SECRETARY OF THE NAVY

  Mr. Diggs sips his coffee, “I should be clear, Mr. Secretary, if her name, or the name of any woman officer is submitted to the Senate, the entire slate will be voted down.”

  King, “Do you realize the position this puts us in with our allies? It makes us look ungrateful.”

  Diggs smiles, “That isn’t a critical issue with the Senate. We all know our allies need us. This war isn’t even possible without us. What they think doesn’t matter. The point is this, there are ninety-six senators and I have fifty-one votes against. I strongly suggest you do not put in her name.”

  Knox, “I see.”

  Diggs leans forward, “Another thing. Six months ago, congress approved the new standards for issuing medals. You set the standards for the Congressional Medal of Honor as requiring conspicuous gallantry in actual combat and at the risk of life and limb. It is the strong belief of the Senate that issuing the medal to a woman would cheapen its value to a man.”

  Knox, “In that, I agree. We must make that medal one to aspire to.”

  King, “Does the President know of this?”

  Diggs, “You’re welcome to speak with him yourself, Admiral. But understand, the Senate’s position is set in stone.”

  FLIGHT LINE, RAF KENLEY

  Swede and his RIO, Lt. Kyle ‘Gandhi’ Jacobs, walk out to their jet. Down the line his wingman, Major Gregory ‘Pappy’ Boyington and his RIO, Ensign Margaret ‘PI’ Alcott, are doing their walk around. His second flight, Major Louis ‘Shot Gun’ Mossberg, his RIO, Lieutenant Commander Lyle ‘Packs’ Boxter, and their wingman, Lieutenant Commander John Thomas ‘Tommy’ Blackburn, with his RIO, Ensign Daniel ‘Frenchy’ Marcella, are already in their jets and doing their checklist.

  Soon all four aircraft are ready. Gandhi, “Kenley Field, Knight 1, ready to taxi four.”

  “Knight 1, Kenley Field. Taxi via alpha and hold at runway 03.” The four pilots trip their brakes and taxi to the runway. An AC-130 lands in front of them. Then they are cleared. They roll onto the runway in two-by-two formation. Swede and Pappy accelerate and climb out. Thirty seconds later, Shot Gun and Tommy follow. They climb to forty thousand feet south west over the Atlantic, their wings forward, taking it easy.

  Forty minutes later they form up with four White Knights carrying buddy stores. When the four jets are topped off, they turn east. Swede flies over Nantes and Shot Gun over Saint Nazaire, their paths diverging. Then they both turn north of east, photographing different areas of France.

  Gandhi, “We’re being painted with search radar.”

  Swede, “Yep. The camera rolling?”

  “Yes, it is. No targeting radar. Okay, I have four fast movers coming out of Germany.”

  Swede, “Right. Time to scoot. Zone five.”

  “Yup, yup. It’s like the autobahn, no speed limit up here.”

  “Mostly clear skies. They should like the pictures.”

  Gandhi, “Our friends have picked an intercept line. They’re about two hundred miles away. Radar band indicates ME-262’s.”

  Swede, “Only four? Doesn’t seem fair.” He hand signals Pappy to standby for missile volley.

  TEMPORARY US ARMY HQ, BECKENHAM, UK

  Hunt and Cooper pull up to the main house on the estate and get out of their jeep. Cooper, I’ll touch base with the yeoman mafia while you enjoy your meeting.”

  Hunt, “Right. Thanks, Radar.

  KNIGHT 1, 40,000 FEET, 50 MILES SOUTH OF PARIS, FRANCE

  Gandhi, “Brother Swede, they are ninety miles out.”

  Swede turns his F-14 to face the threat, “Two and two. Call the volley.”

  Gandhi, on radio, “Volley Fox 3.” Two AIM-1ER Longbow missiles drop off the launch rails and fire their engines. They streak ahead, cork screw slightly, and acquire the guidance beam and bore on at the incoming enemy. “I got them on camera. Yep, 262’s. They’re firing.”

  “Really? Interesting.” Swede the holds the line, keeping the guidance beam on target.

  “Okay, brother. Their missiles are tracking us and Pappy. Our missiles will get to them first, then we’re going to need some pilot shit.”

  “No worries.”

  Gandhi, on radio, “Splash 2. Evasive.”

  Alcott, “Splash 1. SAM launch. SAM launch. Eight o’clock.”

  Swede rolls left and pulls back the stick putting the air launched missiles on their beam. He goes inverted and dives, dragging the German missiles into thicker air. This also gets them closer to the SAMs.

  Gandhi cranes his head around, “Got them. Two are turning. The rest failed to track. SAMs tracking, fifteen miles.”

  Swede rolls right, turning into the missiles and comes off afterburner.

  Gandhi, “Two inbound. The 262…”

  Swede, “Gs.” He torques the jet up vertical, dropping chaff and flares. The missiles pass below them. Then he rolls and turns back to the 262. “Tally. Burners on.”

  Gandhi, “The SAMs ran out of fuel. They are dropping.”

  Alcott on radio, “Fox 1, Fox 1.” Two AIM-7 missiles fly off the rails of Pappy’s Tomcat. They streak toward the remaining 262. Both hit and the Messerschmitt comes apart. Its pilot ejects.

  Swede rolls left and back on course, “Hum de ho. Another day at the office.”

  TEMPORARY US ARMY HQ, BECKENHAM, UK

  Hunt settles into a seat with a cup of coffee. Air Marshal Sir Hugh “Stuffy” Dowding and USAAF Brigadier General Ira C. Eaker are already at the table and drinking their coffee. Eaker is the commander of the 8th Airforce. “Congratulations Commodore. A well thought out strategy. Mind, it would have been nice to be invited on the victory lap.”

  Hunt smiles, “Sir, I sent out the call. It was just taking too long to set up. While we were sorting out a formation, people were dying.”

  Dowding, commander of the RAF Fighter Command, says, “Quite right, Spike.
I’ll hope you forgive me for taking the liberty of assembling an awards package.”

  Hunt, “No problem, Stuffy. I’m putting one together for all involved, including your people.”

  General Dwight D. Eisenhower and Air Marshal Sir Arthur Harris walk in. They stand and shake hands.

  Eisenhower, “Thank you, gentleman. Thank you, Commodore. Your execution in the second Battle of Britain was exceptional.”

  Hunt, “Thank you, sir. Now, I would like to discuss an offensive bombing strategy against occupied France.”

  Harris, “Absolutely. We need to hit them and do so as soon as possible.”

  The door opens and General Charles De Gaulle walks in, “Excuse me.”

  Eisenhower nods, “Come in, General.”

  Eaker turns to Hunt, “Your thoughts, Commodore?”

  “Actually, I agree with Air Marshal Harris. Germany is scrambling after their defeat in England. They’re trying to shift their limited air assets to the Russian front. If we hit them hard now, it will give some relief for the Russians, and begin the preparations for the eventual opposed landing in France. To maximize our effectiveness all our actions needed to be coordinated.”

  Eaker smiles, “Exactly. We need to start pummeling their resources across the board. I prefer the day because of our bomb sight.” He turns to Harris, “I think you prefer the night. What do you prefer, Commodore?”

  Hunt, “First, my unit will systematically engage and eliminate their air defense system. As we do that, I want to destroy all the logistic connections between Germany and France.”

  De Gaulle, “You would bomb my country, Commodore?”

  Hunt smiles, “General, it is an excellent question. I would prefer to focus on precision bombing. Trying to destroy the German logistical train without harming the French people. No doubt you have substantial intelligence that can aid us in our target selection?”

  De Gaulle, “Yes, well. Of course, we will assist. Do your wonder planes have the ability to precisely drop ordinance?”

  Hunt, “It requires great skill on the part of the pilot, but yes, it can be done.”

  De Gaulle, “I would very much like my pilots to serve in these aircraft. You will train my men.”

  Hunt, “That is not within the scope of my authority, or the scope of this meeting. It does bring up an unrelated question. The Vichy French have a significant naval presence at Casablanca. They are a thorn. At any time, they could sortie against our convoys. My battleship squadron has requested that they be allowed to take care of that threat. It seems reasonable, but they are your people. Could you go there and convince them to change sides?” She smiles at De Gaulle.

  He is silent. “Perhaps we should keep the meeting on subject.”

  Eisenhower smiles, “I quite agree. Commodore, your thoughts on an active campaign in France?”

  She looks at the men at the table, making eye contact, “We’ll handle the recon. Our TARPS pod is the best in theater. I have a four-plane element flying a recon mission right now. My plan is to attack the enemy’s air defenses and their logistics. I will take down every bridge. Every rail line. Every road that connects France and the low countries to Germany. If we destroy their logistics and focus on their air defense capability, in time we will all be able to fly over France with impunity. Also, we will then be able to fly in helicopters and recover any air crew that do get shot down. This will give us a relatively safe staging area to attack further into Germany.”

  Dowding, “My units will support you.”

  Eisenhower, “Not a symbolic attack on Berlin?”

  Hunt, “Thank you, Air Marshal.” She turns to Eisenhower, “I don’t want to lose people for a symbol. All of this will also serve to prepare for the eventual liberation of France.”

  Eaker, “What would you want us to focus on?

  Hunt, “Air fields and logistics centers. Once the bridges and air defenses are down, we will hit the sub pens with a munition designed for the job. I want to leave their troops alone for now.”

  De Gaulle, “Why?”

  Harris smiles, “Because every German in France is a mouth they need to feed. I quite agree.”

  Hunt, “Exactly. Another thought, once we control the skies, we can evacuate and insert underground agents as we please. We can also use the 82nd and helicopters to liberate German prisons and concentration camps.”

  De Gaulle, “There are none.”

  Hunt shakes her head, “General, you forget I’m from the future. There are, and those camps hold your own people captive. Surely you want them freed.”

  De Gaulle, “Of course.”

  KNIGHT 1, 40,000 FEET OVER THE HAGUE

  Gandhi on the radio, “Knight 1, feet wet.” On intercom, “That should give them plenty to chew on.”

  On radio, “Knight 1, Rook 1, roger. You have four trailers. Fox 3. Fox 3.” Two missiles, a few miles away, fly past their left wing.

  Swede, “Back to military.”

  Gandhi, “No problem, brother Swede.”

  On the radio they hear Speedy, RIO for Thud Jackson, “Splash 1, no, splash 3. Good kill Pin Up.”

  Ensign Mical ‘Pin Up’ DeGraff’s RIO, Ensign Steve ‘Man’ Uhle says, “The last one is bugging out. I see chutes.”

  The four White Knights turn back and refuel Swede’s flight. They all head home.

  TEMPORARY US ARMY HQ, BECKENHAM, UK

  Eisenhower, “We need a targeting committee to coordinate the campaign. I want all aviation commands to assign people to the committee. Commodore, you will chair. General De Gaulle, I want your staff to identify locations in France of cultural importance. I want to avoid damaging them. Also, I need you to submit any intelligence you may have regarding German installations. Thank you, gentlemen.” He stands. “Commodore, may I speak with you for a moment?”

  “Yes, sir.” They walk together to his office. He gets a cup of coffee and sits, “I like how you handled General De Gaulle. Do keep in mind that he can make things hard if you push him too far.”

  Samantha takes a sip of her coffee, then smiles, “He has his own motivations for everything. Most of the time they align fairly close with ours.”

  “True. I understand you’re going home.”

  “Yeah, I think they want to split up what’s left of my squadrons to fill out new ones. It makes sense, but it’s sad, too.”

  “I’ve recommended we keep one squadron here for special missions. I’ve also asked to keep you in theater. You’ve become indispensable to me.”

  “Thank you, sir. I don’t know what they want to do with me. I’ll probably do a stint as an instructor.”

  “That would be a colossal waste of talent. I need you here. I would keep you in charge of the air war over Germany. In truth, the Germans are so afraid of you at this point, that you are worth a wing of fighters. As for me, I very much value your insight.” He stands, carrying his cup, and walks to a map on the wall of Europe. “Where would you land?”

  She joins him, “I don’t know the terrain that well. I would land somewhere near Marseille. Maybe at the mouth of the Rhone. The river could be a way to use LCACs to run supplies. In truth, all that is needed is for the southern invasion to establish a beach head. If they can, they should push north. This forces the Germans to orient some of the reinforcements toward the south.

  “A day or two later, land at Normandy. It’s still the logical beach and we know it can work. The Normandy break out is eased because the Germans had to respond to the landing in the south. Again, it’s more important that they tie down the enemy then for them to advance.

  “By then, the Germans will be certain they have identified the invasion points. Then, you land around Bremerhaven or the Elbe. That is the threat they cannot ignore. I would send one spearhead south, and one east. Cut off Denmark and it will fall. Then, we have unrestricted access to the Baltic. Join up with the units pushing north and all of France will fall. Attack east with one foot in the water. You can be resupplied by sea and you thrust a dagger
into Hitler’s heart.”

  “That is bold.”

  “It is.”

  “I don’t know that we could make that many landings.”

  “Get the Marines to establish some of the beach heads. It’s a core Marine skill set.”

  “They want the Marines for the Pacific.”