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Authors: Julian Jay Savarin
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stretch of coast. Unfortunately, despite Beuren having acquired targets and successfully achieved launch parameters, his aircraft would again not have survived the mission.
Hohendorf, now in civilian clothes, knocked on the door to the squadron commander’s office, the damning evidence of the mission videos weighing heavily upon his mind.
“Komm!”
ordered the voice from within.
Hohendorf pushed the door open and entered. “You wanted to see me, Chief?”
Korvetten Kapitän Hans Wusterhausen was a lean man, his close-cropped dark hair with a silvergray streak at each temple. His gray eyes had a directness about them that gave the impression they were being permanently zeroed onto a target. His was a sometimes unnerving stare, a clear warning that he did not suffer fools gladly. A pilot making a dodgy landing, for instance, would be far better advised to admit it, than offer a lame excuse. His unofficial designation was “Sea Eagle.” No callsign could have been better chosen.
Wusterhausen was highly experienced, and had flown a wide variety of fast jets, includingcarrier-borne US Navy F-14 Tomcats while on secondment duties.
He looked up from his desk as Hohendorf entered and shut the door.
“Ah, Axel.” He noted Hohendorfs jeans and sweater. “Ready to set off?”
“I’m hoping to get to the Hamburg tunnel by 1500 at the latest, otherwise I’ll catch all the commuter traffic and be there for hours. You know what it can be like.”
“You’ll make it easily in that Porsche of yours. Besides, I won’t keep you long. That was good work this morning, by the way. You and Johann Ecker have got the highest score of all Blue Force crews, including mine.” He smiled, a little sheepishly. “Well done. You two are a great team.”
“Thank you, sir. But the fact remains, we lost my number two again. Very expensive if we were doing it for real.”
“Willi’s a good pilot, and Wolfgang is second only to Johann as a weapons systems man. What happened?”
Hohendorf found he could not put his anxieties into words. He couldn’t make a firm accusation against Beuren, using his hunch as the only basis. He couldn’t endanger a man’s whole career. On the other hand …
He said: “The units playing Orange Force were a little wise to us, I think. After all, in the past, someof them have played the role of the Blue Forces themselves.”
Wusterhausen nodded, moved on. “Even so, you still managed to inflict heavy casualties. A destroyer and a frigate, plus ten SAM batteries taken out. As I’ve just said, the highest individual score. Not a bad performance. In any case, we’ll not get the full picture until all the reports from the participating units have been analyzed, now that the exercise is over. My guess is that it will take at least two weeks before we get to see the results.” Wusterhausen gave another smile. “But that’s not why I called you in here. The information I’m about to give you is not to be repeated to anyone … not even to Johann Ecker … until I say so. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir,” Hohendorf acknowledged formally.
“A special squadron is being formed,” Wusterhausen went on. “It is to be a fully-integrated NATO squadron, made up of crews from the Alliance countries. This will please you, Axel. The aircraft will be brand new, Super Tornadoes; fighter variants with a major increase in engine thrust. You’re always going on about wanting more power. Well, you’ll have plenty to play with.”
“I’m
going to be part of this unit?”
“A confidential directive has gone out to a series of units, requiring commanders to recommend personnel. I was asked to supply one crew. I’ve recommended you. I believe that what they’re planningwill suit you perfectly, and they’ll be pleased with you too. Well? Do you want it?”
Conflicting emotions went through Hohendorf. Despite the fact that he already flew an outstanding airplane, the thought of being given a truly powerful
Hohendorf, now in civilian clothes, knocked on the door to the squadron commander’s office, the damning evidence of the mission videos weighing heavily upon his mind.
“Komm!”
ordered the voice from within.
Hohendorf pushed the door open and entered. “You wanted to see me, Chief?”
Korvetten Kapitän Hans Wusterhausen was a lean man, his close-cropped dark hair with a silvergray streak at each temple. His gray eyes had a directness about them that gave the impression they were being permanently zeroed onto a target. His was a sometimes unnerving stare, a clear warning that he did not suffer fools gladly. A pilot making a dodgy landing, for instance, would be far better advised to admit it, than offer a lame excuse. His unofficial designation was “Sea Eagle.” No callsign could have been better chosen.
Wusterhausen was highly experienced, and had flown a wide variety of fast jets, includingcarrier-borne US Navy F-14 Tomcats while on secondment duties.
He looked up from his desk as Hohendorf entered and shut the door.
“Ah, Axel.” He noted Hohendorfs jeans and sweater. “Ready to set off?”
“I’m hoping to get to the Hamburg tunnel by 1500 at the latest, otherwise I’ll catch all the commuter traffic and be there for hours. You know what it can be like.”
“You’ll make it easily in that Porsche of yours. Besides, I won’t keep you long. That was good work this morning, by the way. You and Johann Ecker have got the highest score of all Blue Force crews, including mine.” He smiled, a little sheepishly. “Well done. You two are a great team.”
“Thank you, sir. But the fact remains, we lost my number two again. Very expensive if we were doing it for real.”
“Willi’s a good pilot, and Wolfgang is second only to Johann as a weapons systems man. What happened?”
Hohendorf found he could not put his anxieties into words. He couldn’t make a firm accusation against Beuren, using his hunch as the only basis. He couldn’t endanger a man’s whole career. On the other hand …
He said: “The units playing Orange Force were a little wise to us, I think. After all, in the past, someof them have played the role of the Blue Forces themselves.”
Wusterhausen nodded, moved on. “Even so, you still managed to inflict heavy casualties. A destroyer and a frigate, plus ten SAM batteries taken out. As I’ve just said, the highest individual score. Not a bad performance. In any case, we’ll not get the full picture until all the reports from the participating units have been analyzed, now that the exercise is over. My guess is that it will take at least two weeks before we get to see the results.” Wusterhausen gave another smile. “But that’s not why I called you in here. The information I’m about to give you is not to be repeated to anyone … not even to Johann Ecker … until I say so. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir,” Hohendorf acknowledged formally.
“A special squadron is being formed,” Wusterhausen went on. “It is to be a fully-integrated NATO squadron, made up of crews from the Alliance countries. This will please you, Axel. The aircraft will be brand new, Super Tornadoes; fighter variants with a major increase in engine thrust. You’re always going on about wanting more power. Well, you’ll have plenty to play with.”
“I’m
going to be part of this unit?”
“A confidential directive has gone out to a series of units, requiring commanders to recommend personnel. I was asked to supply one crew. I’ve recommended you. I believe that what they’re planningwill suit you perfectly, and they’ll be pleased with you too. Well? Do you want it?”
Conflicting emotions went through Hohendorf. Despite the fact that he already flew an outstanding airplane, the thought of being given a truly powerful
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