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Authors: Julian Jay Savarin
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Tornado excited him. On the other hand, he did not want to leave the squadron. He didn’t want to leave his friends. Further, Wusterhausen was a good CO. He didn’t want to leave him either, for some unknown person he’d have to learn to understand and work with all over again. The new Tornado was powerful bait, but …
“I can almost hear the argument in your mind.” Wusterhausen’s shrewd, target-wise eyes were amused. “You don’t have a choice. My recommendation can be read as an order. If a fancy new squadron is being created, I want this squadron to be represented. You’re going to be our ambassador.”
Hohendorf stiffened. “When you put it like that, Chief, it’s very difficult to refuse.”
“Believe it.”
“So Johann and I will be leaving—”
“Ah,” Wusterhausen interrupted. “This is the part you’re not going to like. Johann will not be accompanying you.”
Hohendorf looked at his commanding officer in disbelief. “But we’re a tight crew. We’ve been together for—”
Again Wusterhausen interrupted. “… a very long time. I know, Axel. You work well together;which is why you’re my top crew. Under normal circumstances, I would not split such a team … but these are very special circumstances. I’m sending my best pilot away. I cannot send my best back-seater as well. I need Johann here to bring the newer boys up to scratch.”
There was a knock on the door.
“Excuse me,” Wusterhausen said to him, then:
“Hierein. “
A Bootsmann entered with a sheet of paper. “This just came in, sir,” the communications petty officer began. “Leutnant Müller thought you should see it immediately.”
Wusterhausen took the decoded message. “Thank you, Aurich.”
He began to read as the Bootsmann went out. Hohendorf watched him, waiting.
“You’ll find this of interest, Axel,” Wusterhausen eventually said, looking up from the paper. “Two United States Air Force F-15 Eagles were buzzed this morning at high altitude by a pair of Fulerums who had come up for a look at our exercise. They had a mock combat with the Americans, before heading for home.”
Hohendorf raised his eyebrows. “Fulcrum” was the NATO name for the MiG-29, a formidably agile and powerful Soviet single-seater.
“Then a little later, two Royal Air Force Tornadoes …” Wusterhausen checked the message once more. “… F.3s on a practice long-distance patrolwere met by a pair of Su-27 Flankers, this time off the coast of Norway. They too played a game with the RAF, before heading home.”
“How did the Tornadoes do?” The Su-27 was larger, even more formidable than the MiG-29.
“It doesn’t say. Nothing about the Eagles, either.”
“Ever since the MiGs showed-off at Farnborough, they’ve been getting a little bolder.”
Wusterhausen said drily: “You must admit they were very impressive.”
“They’ve got their weaknesses. A good pilot could exploit them in a proper stand-up fight.”
Wusterhausen’s smile was speculative. “Think you could take them?”
“With more power in my engines … yes.”
“So I was right to recommend you. I cannot give you details, but I can tell you that the new aircraft will be all you could wish for.”
“About Johann …” Hohendorf began, trying again.
Wusterhausen shook his head slowly. “It’s no use, Axel. The matter is not for discussion. Flacht will be going with you …”
“Wolfgang?”
“Yes. What’s wrong with him?”
“Nothing. He’s a very good back-seater.”
“Then why this surprise?”
Hohendorf was unsure of what to say next.
“Well … but what about Willi Beuren? He’ll need a replacement.”
“He’ll have to break in one of the newer boys.”
“But who will be his real back-seater, Chief?” Hohendorf dreaded the answer he knew would be coming.
“Johann Ecker. Who else? Johann knows how Willi flies, and will be a great help with the new man. Some of the time, though, Johann will fly with me. Axel? Are you
“I can almost hear the argument in your mind.” Wusterhausen’s shrewd, target-wise eyes were amused. “You don’t have a choice. My recommendation can be read as an order. If a fancy new squadron is being created, I want this squadron to be represented. You’re going to be our ambassador.”
Hohendorf stiffened. “When you put it like that, Chief, it’s very difficult to refuse.”
“Believe it.”
“So Johann and I will be leaving—”
“Ah,” Wusterhausen interrupted. “This is the part you’re not going to like. Johann will not be accompanying you.”
Hohendorf looked at his commanding officer in disbelief. “But we’re a tight crew. We’ve been together for—”
Again Wusterhausen interrupted. “… a very long time. I know, Axel. You work well together;which is why you’re my top crew. Under normal circumstances, I would not split such a team … but these are very special circumstances. I’m sending my best pilot away. I cannot send my best back-seater as well. I need Johann here to bring the newer boys up to scratch.”
There was a knock on the door.
“Excuse me,” Wusterhausen said to him, then:
“Hierein. “
A Bootsmann entered with a sheet of paper. “This just came in, sir,” the communications petty officer began. “Leutnant Müller thought you should see it immediately.”
Wusterhausen took the decoded message. “Thank you, Aurich.”
He began to read as the Bootsmann went out. Hohendorf watched him, waiting.
“You’ll find this of interest, Axel,” Wusterhausen eventually said, looking up from the paper. “Two United States Air Force F-15 Eagles were buzzed this morning at high altitude by a pair of Fulerums who had come up for a look at our exercise. They had a mock combat with the Americans, before heading for home.”
Hohendorf raised his eyebrows. “Fulcrum” was the NATO name for the MiG-29, a formidably agile and powerful Soviet single-seater.
“Then a little later, two Royal Air Force Tornadoes …” Wusterhausen checked the message once more. “… F.3s on a practice long-distance patrolwere met by a pair of Su-27 Flankers, this time off the coast of Norway. They too played a game with the RAF, before heading home.”
“How did the Tornadoes do?” The Su-27 was larger, even more formidable than the MiG-29.
“It doesn’t say. Nothing about the Eagles, either.”
“Ever since the MiGs showed-off at Farnborough, they’ve been getting a little bolder.”
Wusterhausen said drily: “You must admit they were very impressive.”
“They’ve got their weaknesses. A good pilot could exploit them in a proper stand-up fight.”
Wusterhausen’s smile was speculative. “Think you could take them?”
“With more power in my engines … yes.”
“So I was right to recommend you. I cannot give you details, but I can tell you that the new aircraft will be all you could wish for.”
“About Johann …” Hohendorf began, trying again.
Wusterhausen shook his head slowly. “It’s no use, Axel. The matter is not for discussion. Flacht will be going with you …”
“Wolfgang?”
“Yes. What’s wrong with him?”
“Nothing. He’s a very good back-seater.”
“Then why this surprise?”
Hohendorf was unsure of what to say next.
“Well … but what about Willi Beuren? He’ll need a replacement.”
“He’ll have to break in one of the newer boys.”
“But who will be his real back-seater, Chief?” Hohendorf dreaded the answer he knew would be coming.
“Johann Ecker. Who else? Johann knows how Willi flies, and will be a great help with the new man. Some of the time, though, Johann will fly with me. Axel? Are you
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