Red Thrust: Attack on the Central Front, Soviet Tactics and Capabilities in the 1990s

CHAPTER 7 Fighter Combat: The Battle for the Airfields

Senior Lieutenant Ivan Dushak adjusted the harness that strapped him into his MiG-29A fighter aircraft. He had flown this particular machine, number 21, several times before. It was pretty much trouble free in the hands of a good ground crew and had the red operating proficiency badge on the nose as a result. The high walls of the ready revetments blocked what little sunlight was available in the early morning hours. Dushak took a small flashlight from his flight suit to check the notepad he had strapped to his right leg. It was securely in place. He turned his attention to the cockpit instruments and began going through the engine warm-up procedures. He checked to make certain the inertial navigation system had been turned on. It would take several minutes of warm-up time to operate properly. The airfield support battalion brought a truck to tow the aircraft out of the revetments before the engines were started. As his aircraft was towed into the open, he felt exposed. The NATO air forces had been attacking Soviet airfields relentlessly, and the last thing he wanted to happen was to lose his aircraft on the ground. He hoped that his wait until takeoff would be brief.

Dushak's MiG-29 was one of eight from the 1st Squadron of the 176th Proskurovskiy Guards Fighter Aviation Regiment being prepared for this particular mission. Two flights, each with four fighters, would be escorting a strike group against an improvised NATO airfield near Ingolstadt. The Germans and Americans had converted a length of Route 16 to the west of Ingolstadt into an airfield from which they were flying A-10 attack aircraft. The A-10s had been hitting at Soviet ground columns during the fighting for the Danube bridgeheads for the past day or so. The army was demanding that they be stamped out. The proximity of the Ingolstadt field allowed the A-l0s to make many sorties each day, and they had been wrecking the pontoon bridges and engineer equipment as fast as they were erected. The bitter complaints from the front commander had led the Air Force to allot two squadrons of the prized Su-24 attack bombers to the mission. The Su-24 was a two-seat strike aircraft with very sophisticated navigation and electronics. It resembled the American F-111 strike bomber. The Su-24 was not usually assigned to simple tactical strike missions, unless they had high priority. The strike force would be rounded out by a flight of Su-22s configured for the ECM jamming role. The Su-22s were sometimes called "Zubr" (Bison) by their crews due to their rotund shape and arched fuselage. Laden with jamming pods, they would be sluggish and vulnerable.

Dushak's fighter regiment had been brought into Milovice two days before from its normal operating base outside of Lvov in the Ukraine. Fighter losses in the past few days of air fighting had been heavy. It wasn't only the NATO fighter planes, it was also the damn SAM missiles like the Hawk and Patriot. The missiles were forcing the Soviet aircraft to operate at low altitudes, where NATO radars couldn't find them in all the ground clutter. But it was dangerous to fly below 1,000 meters. The terrain along the border was mountainous, and it was easy to run into a hill if you weren't careful. And at low altitude you attracted the attention of everybody with a gun. Modern jet aircraft are rugged, but at high speeds, even small damage can be lethal. A single bullet, in the wrong place at the wrong time, can bring down a multimillion-dollar jet. A bullet down the air intake, impacting the turbine blades, can lead to a catastrophic engine failure. A ruptured hydraulic line can lead to a loss of control. Such losses to small arms fire are not very common. Jet aircraft have been known to absorb more than a hundred small-caliber bullets and fly safely back to base. But when flying at low altitude, the "golden bullet" that can wreck your plane is always a worry.

Modern air defense missiles are another matter. Missiles like the Hawk or Patriot are so large that if they lock onto your fighter with their radar, your chances are not good. Electronic jamming is possible, but difficult. And the warheads on these missiles are so large that they nearly ensure an aircraft loss if they explode close enough. They are a major worry on a strike mission like this, since so many aircraft provide a juicy target. By staying at low altitudes, the strike group can stay under their radar cover. Without radar acquisition, the missiles are useless. It's a trade-off. If you go in high, you can avoid small-caliber gunfire and Stingers, but then you are out in the open against the Patriot and Hawk batteries. In view of the losses of Soviet aircraft to Hawks and Patriots in the past few days, this attack mission would be going in low.

Either way, the flight could be attacked by enemy fighters. The main problem in this area was F-16s, which were present in abundance and were a real menace. The F-16 was smaller than the MiG-29, but its performance was similar. Some were armed with the deadly AMRAAM radar-guided missile, but many still had only Sidewinders. The Sidewinder used infrared homing, and fighters were usually within visual range before the infrared seeker could lock onto the target. This limited their attack envelope. The AMRAAM was a different matter entirely. It was radar guided and didn't require illumination from the enemy fighter's radar like the older Sparrow. These were undoubtedly the most lethal weapon in the recent fighting, and more than one Soviet squadron had been massacred by AMRAAMs. Some F-16s had been modernized to fire these, but the F-15 was the primary AMRAAM platform. The F-15 was bigger than the F-16 or MiG-29. The F-15 pilots preferred to kill their adversaries at long range with the AMRAAM rather than mix it up in a messy dogfight at close range with the smaller MiG-29.

Dushak checked his own panel to make certain his missiles had been properly mounted. He carried the usual weapons load. There were two R-72 radar-guided missiles on the inboard pylons. These were like the NATO Sparrow missiles. You illuminated the enemy aircraft with your RP-29 radar, and the missile homed in on the radar reflections from your target. They were good missiles, with good range. But you had to keep your radar locked onto your target the whole time — from missile launch to missile impact. If you had to break off the engagement due to the presence of enemy fighters, the missile would not hit. It also meant you could engage only one target at a time. With the AMRAAM, the missile had its own little radar and didn't need the aircraft to radar illuminate the target. And you could engage several aircraft at once, which was not possible with either the NATO Sparrow or the Soviet R-72. The other four missile pylons on the MiG-29 had R-60 infrared missiles slung from them. The R-60 operated like a Sidewinder, homing in on infrared energy from the target aircraft. It could even be launched from head on, picking up the leading edge of the fuselage and wings that had been heated by air friction. The main problem in dogfighting with the R-60 was that it had less range than the Sidewinder. The Soviet Air Force had the old K-13 with good range, but its seeker was not very sensitive. There was the new R-73 infrared missile with performance similar to that of the R-60, but it wasn't common yet, and Dushak's squadron had to make do with the older R-60s.

For real dogfighting, the MiG-29 had a 30mm autocannon in the left wing root. This was a very destructive weapon: A few solid hits could destroy most modern fighter planes. The gun was linked to a laser range finder, which told the pilot if the enemy plane was in range. Through the computer and heads-up display (HUD), it told the pilot how much elevation or deflection was needed. The HUD in the MiG-29 was a real advance as far as Dushak was concerned, especially over the old sights in the MiG-23. The HUD is an optical data system that is located in front of the pilot. The main element is a tilted glass panel that has data from the aircraft computer projected onto it. The main attraction of the HUD is that it allows the pilot to keep his eyes looking forward, through the canopy, and still be able to get vital information. In older fighters, you had to look down into the cockpit to get information from the various flight instruments. This was very distracting in a dogfight: You could lose your grasp of the situation while you were looking at the dials and gauges.

By the time Dushak's MiG-29 had been wheeled out of the revetment, the sun was creeping its way up the southeastern horizon. Dushak noted its position. The sun could be an ally in any dogfight, and a fighter pilot had to remember where it lay. Attacking with the sun at your back was one of the oldest dogfighting tricks. Even in the age of computers and missiles, it was still an excellent tactic. It is hard to see into the sun, and this blind spot can be exploited by a skilled pilot. Dushak had used this tactic often during peacetime training. He was about to find out whether peacetime training was anything like the real thing.

The warrant officer who headed the flight crew signaled to Dushak that everything was ready.

He started the engine and closed the cockpit canopy. It made a solid clunk, and he locked it shut. He had already adjusted the aircraft radio to the mission frequency and was awaiting further instructions. Dushak's flight would be using the radio call sign Shashka (Sabre); the other MiG-29 flight would use Molot (Hammer). The Su-24 squadron was using the call sign Kirka (Axe), and the countermeasures flight was using Pika (Pike). Dushak's aircraft was Shashka 3; the flight leader, Sniper Pilot Nikolai Vlasov, was Shashka 1; his wingman, Pilot 3d Class German Burlakov, was Shashka 2. Dushak was the second pair leader, and his wingman, Pilot 2d Class Sergei Kostenko, was Shashka 4. Sergei "Seryozha" Kostenko was a younger pilot than Dushak, twenty-eight years old. Dushak had flown on MiG-23 fighters in the 1980s, before transitioning to the new MiG-29 in 1991. Kostenko had flown the MiG-29 ever since he had been a combat pilot.

Dushak had a lot of problems with Kostenko as his wingman. The younger pilot was much more aggressive than Dushak. The Air Force had been trying to encourage pilots to show more initiative and daring, but Dushak felt that Kostenko carried this a bit too far. Dushak had been trained in the old-fashioned way, which placed more stress on central control from the GCI (ground-controlled intercept) handlers. Kostenko made it no secret that he wanted to be assigned to "free-lance" squadrons, which were used for offensive fighter sweeps. He was very unhappy with the escort missions and air defense patrols that the squadron had been assigned since the outset of the war. Kostenko seemed to imply that Dushak was cowardly for not engaging in more aggressive maneuvers during the missions. Dushak had spoken to the regiment commander about Kostenko, but was left feeling mat the commander had more sympathy for Kostenko than himself. "New equipment requires new approaches, Comrade Lieutenant Dushak," the commander had said. Times and tactics were changing with the arrival of the MiG-29.

The day before, they had been flying an air defense mission over Czechoslovakia when a NATO air strike was occurring to the north at the Mimon airfield. The GCI told them to remain patrolling their sector, that other regiments were covering Mimon. Kostenko had badgered Dushak to move the patrol circuit a bit farther north so that they might engage any stragglers coming into their sector. Realizing that this would complicate the patrol patterns of other flights, Dushak had told Kostenko to shut up and stay in formation with him. They had an uneventful flight. But wars are not won by uneventful flights.

Dushak could see that they had prepared the rest of the flight. Captain Vlasov's plane, with a blue "04" on the air intake, was at the head of the flight. Looking in his rearview mirrors, Dushak could see Kostenko's plane behind him. The flight was all set up in a nice little row. He was hoping they would get off the airfield fest before the damn NATO people figured out an operation was planned and bombed the hell out of the base again.

Milovice airfield had already been bombed at least seven times since the beginning of the war. The runway had been cratered badly, and ground crews had spent the whole night repairing the damage. The German Tornados that had struck the airfield early the previous morning had dropped several delayed-action bombs with the usual cratering load. They had to be meticulously removed before the runway was declared safe for operations. Fortunately, runway 2 had not been hit as badly, and would be used for this morning's operation. The NATO attacks had not put the runways permanently out of action, but they had raised havoc with the ground support. So much fueling and support equipment had been destroyed, and so many men killed, that they were lucky to get two sorties a day out of the field. Dushak listened for instructions from the control tower. He could see the sixteen aircraft of the Su-24 squadron already taking off. The MiG-29s were fester and would catch up. The Su-22 countermeasures aircraft were already airborne and waiting to join the Su-24 formation. They were intended mainly to protect the bombers, and flew in pattern with the sleeker Su-24s. The control tower finally told Shashka flight and Molot flight to begin taxiing to the runway approach. The runway was wide enough to accommodate two fighters at once, so they would take off in pairs in quick succession. Dushak had made certain that the engine intakes were set to the protective position. The MiG-29 has large doors that cover the main intake while the plane is on the ground and during takeoff, because the aircraft is so low slung that it risks sucking small debris off the runway. A pebble or other bit of junk, slamming into a jet engine turbine blade at high speed, would ruin a very expensive engine, and could lead to the loss of the plane. The air is drawn in through special intakes on top of the fuselage. Dushak admired the practicality of this design. In his old squadron, he had seen a MiG-23 eat some junk on takeoff and auger in shortly afterward due to engine feilure. It was a hell of a way for a well-trained pilot to die.

The runway approach widened, and Kostenko pulled his plane over to the right side of Dushak's MiG. Molot flight took off first, banking to the right to join the attack group. The first pair of Shashka flight took off, and Dushak almost lost sight of them in all the heat shimmer from their engine exhaust. Dushak and Kostenko trailed behind shortly after, the aircraft bouncing about badly due to all the air turbulence caused by the previous flights.

Takeoff was exhilarating, even in this crummy weather. The cloud cover was low, about 500 meters. The plan was to proceed to the Czech border over the clouds, at 2,000 meters, then drop back down on the deck to 500 meters when they reached Germany. The Shashka flight would stay a bit high and to the right, while Molot would be on the southern side and slightly to the rear. As his MiG entered the clouds, the sides of the cockpit became smeared by rain rashing over its surface. This lasted only moments, and the flight burst out of the clouds into a clear blue sky above. They had left the dreary world of Milovice airfield behind and were now in their own environment, skimming so close to the clouds that their aircraft cast shadows on them.

The Su-22 countermeasures planes stood out like a sore thumb. They were painted in the usual three-color camouflage scheme of tan, brown, and green. The Su-24s looked elegant as usual in a blue-gray finish with bright white underbellies. The MiGs were in dogfighter colors with a blend of two grays. But it occurred to Dushak that when they went back down on the deck, the Su-22s would blend in, and the MiGs would look out of place. Kostenko was trailing behind Dushak's aircraft about a hundred meters back, and off his right tail. He looked at the rearview mirrors and spotted him bouncing up and down a bit. The air seemed wonderfully clear, but there was a lot of turbulence at this altitude.

Dushak began looking down at the Syrena radar-warning panels. The MiG-29 has several panels and antennas at the front and rear of the aircraft to pick up hostile radar emissions. They are designed to warn if the aircraft is being illuminated by an enemy fighter's radar, or, worse yet, by the radar seeker in an AMRAAM missile, by little flashing lights that go off, and a loud buzz in the pilot's earphone. The problem with the radar warner is that it often goes off from stray reflected microwave energy. Over the battlefield, there are so many radar emitters that the Syrena is screaming every few minutes. It's like the story about the little boy who cried "wolf!" too often: After a while, the pilot begins to ignore it; some simply switch it off. The problem in all modern fighter planes is that there is just too much information for the pilot to sort out and absorb. One wag describes it as like trying to take a drink from a fire hydrant. At some point, it becomes vital to ignore all the spurious junk coming in over the electronic sensors and just concentrate on what is happening outside the airplane. It's stressful trying to decide when to ignore the black boxes and when to give them special attention.

Dushak noticed the lead flight beginning to dip into the clouds ahead of him. It was business time! At high combat speeds, it takes no time at all to cross two or three European borders. He

nosed his plane back down into the clouds, and in a few moments he reentered the dingy world of ground-pounding missions. So far there had been little sign of enemy fighter aircraft. Allegedly, there was an An-74 airborne warning aircraft in this sector acting as an airborne command post. But he had not heard any transmissions from it to the flight. NATO had been jamming it and sending in aircraft to shoot it down whenever they had a chance. More likely it was sitting on the ground in need of electronics repair.

They dropped down to 500 meters. It was impossible to keep a steady altitude, since the terrain below was so mountainous. The leading flight of Sukhoi bombers was trying to follow terrain contours and keep the strike force down below the higher mountain ridges. Dushak didn't like this kind of flying. It was fine for the bomber boys, but it was a bit claustrophobic for fighter jocks. Enemy fighters could jump them from above, and they'd have a hell of a time maneuvering out of these chasms.

The flight passed to the south of Regensburg, not far from the scene of the current ground fighting. They gave the bridgehead area a wide berth, since there would be enough artillery shells in the air to make mincemeat out of their flight. The terrain shifted abruptly as they reached the Danube. It went from mountainous forest to flat pasture land in hardly ten kilometers. Now they were in the open, with no mountains to hide them from the prying eyes of radars.

At that moment the Syrena radar warning started going nuts. It was blinking from three quadrants at once, indicating several different illumination bands. Dushak bent his head down to look into the RP-29 radar display. There was no evidence of enemy fighters ahead. His radio crackled: "Shashka and Molot Flight, this is Kirka Leader. Do you have crows? Over."

("Crows" was the nickname for enemy fighters; the Soviet fighters called friendlies "falcons.") It was the strike leader in one of the Sukhoi bombers! He must be getting the warnings too. He didn't have an air intercept radar, however, so he didn't have as good a chance to pick up enemy fighters beyond visual range.

"This is Shashka Leader. No crows. Over."

Captain Vlasov hadn't spotted any enemy fighters yet either: "Molot Leader, no crows here. We've got strong signals south. I'm swinging my cone. Over." The Molot MiG flight was going to bank off to the south. The RP-29 radar has a limited cone of view forward. It was possible the enemy fighters were outside of this visual range.

"Crows to the south! Crows at 9 o'clock. Break!" Before he could determine what to do, Dushak saw a missile impact against one of the Sukhoi bombers on the left side of the flight. It hit near the cockpit and blew off the whole nose — a frightening sight. The plane began an uncontrollable tumble, spewing burning fuel behind it. There was no way the crew could have survived. A second missile impacted another Sukhoi near the tail. The plane shuddered, and a big chunk of tail went sailing; it smashed into a trailing Sukhoi, which dropped off to the left.

The crew of the first Sukhoi punched out with their ejector seats.

"This is Kirka Leader. Molot Leader, engage the crows. Shashka, you stay with us." The flight of four MiG-29s on the left banked southward to engage the enemy fighters. They peeled off in a fast climb, afterburners glaring. In a moment, they were in the clouds. The Sukhois dropped even closer to the ground. They had terrain avoidance radars and so could follow the ground contours a lot closer than the MiGs.

Dushak hated this kind of flying. Being tied to a bunch of turkey bombers made the fighters vulnerable to ambush. Over the earphones, he could hear transmission from Molot flight. "Break into pairs. Molot Four, stay with your wingman. Watch it, Molot Three." The transmissions were confusing. It was not at all clear who was winning or losing, or even if Molot had found the enemy. Fortunately, they were only about sixty seconds from target. No SAMs so far.

The target was difficult to spot; the road was covered with trees on either side. They were running parallel to the highway. The German air defense crews began firing 20mm cannons at the flight, but they were not very accurate. The red fireballs spit into the air over the flight. The aircraft were traveling at well over 500 kilometers an hour, so the fireballs whizzed right by. Several miles ahead, there was an obvious change on the road. The Germans had built a detour around the new airfield. The airfield seemed to have few aircraft, but there was equipment nearby.

"Shashka Flight, this is Shashka Leader. Break to the right and clear the target area." They banked to the right and gained altitude, not wanting to run into any stray bombs. The Sukhois began dropping their bombs with parachute retarders.[60]

Dushak caught a glimpse of the bombers as the munitions separated and snapped behind when their retarders blossomed. Shashka flight was almost into the cloud layer by the time the bombs hit.

The Syrena began going nuts again. The flight was in a three-g turn,

and Dushak found it difficult to move his head to look into the radar. As they pulled out of the turn, they saw two aircraft go by at high speed, followed by at least three others. "Shashka Flight, tallyho. We have crows! Break and fight in pairs."

Where the hell are they? Dushak pulled his MiG up over the clouds. To hell with the SAMs. It was time to get a little altitude and figure out what was going on. Kostenko followed, narrowing the gap between himself and Dushak's MiG. As they broke through the cloud cover, they could see a dogfight already in progress. The problem was, who was who? They all looked like MiG-29s! There seemed to be about six aircraft — a pair chasing a lone aircraft to the south and another pair chasing a lone aircraft some distance away. They all had the distinctive twin tails of the MiG-29. To his horror, Dushak saw one of the aircraft from the southern pair fire a missile from its wing tip. MiG-29s don't have wing-tip missiles! The missile went up the tail pipe of the lone aircraft, ripping off the right engine and the right stabilizer. The pilot punched out safely.

"Shashka Three, you take that pair that just hit Molot. Me and German will take the other pair." Dushak nosed his aircraft down to bring it closer to the cloud base. It was possible the crows ahead hadn't yet spotted him and Kostenko. The range was less than five kilometers. The radar was tracking the target, as was the little Sh-1 infrared tracker. Dushak told Kostenko to switch his radar into dummy load position so it wouldn't emit and be picked up by the enemy's radar warning receivers. The Sh-1 IR tracker would continue to follow the enemy aircraft. It was purely passive, unlike radar. The Sh-1 picked up the infrared energy of the hot engine exhaust of the enemy planes, but gave off no signal, so it wouldn't warn the enemy. It worked reasonably well, except in clouds. Then the radar would automatically turn back on.

As they approached the enemy fighters, Dushak suddenly realized that they were F-18 Hornets. Or to be more precise, CF-18 Hornets of the Canadian Air Force. They flew out of a field near Bad Sollingen or somewhere farther west. He was surprised to see them this far east. He uncaged the seeker on the number 4 R-60 infrared missile. He got a tone on his headset, and launched. The strong infrared signature from the tail pipes made it an easy lock-on. It was hard to see the flight of the missile because its white trail was lost against the bright white of the cloud base below. Moments before the missile impacted, the Canadians suddenly pulled up and to the left. They had been spotted! The missile adjusted its flight path, but the turn happened so last that it did not impact, but exploded a short distance to the right of the trailing aircraft. The enemy fighter shuddered slightly, and some debris came spewing back. But the missile caused no lethal damage. The R-60s were just too damn small.

The Canadians pulled up in a fast banking climb with the MiGs in fast pursuit. The turn was pushing six g's, much too much to permit a missile launch. The range had closed to two kilometers. The Canadians pulled a snap roll, aiming for the cloud bank. They seemed to be trying to break off the engagement by running away in the clouds. Dushak and Kostenko followed, but somewhat higher up. As they entered the cloud bank, the RP-29 radar switched from dummy load back to active, emitting to take over from the blinded IR tracker.[61]

The radar picked up the Hornets below in the cloud bank, heading west, about two and a half kilometers ahead. Dushak and Kostenko both prepared a missile. Before they could fire, the Canadians made a sudden hard bank, in an attempt to turn on their attackers. Dushak decided to make a firing pass on the Canadians before they could turn squarely around to face them. But with the action taking place so near the cloud cover, he couldn't get the missile to signal lock-on. The high sun reflection off the clouds was confusing the missile seeker. He prepared to use the gun. The pipper in the HUD display tracked the target. Dushak slammed the controls around trying to get the pipper to line up in the center of the target dial. It started to do so and Dushak squeezed off a burst. Missed! The Canadians were still pulling around, Dushak trying to swing his aircraft into them. He failed to get a suitable position, and the Canadians swept under them at very high speed. Dushak instinctively pushed the throttle forward and pulled the stick back, trying to get altitude. Where would he find the Canadians?

Shashka 1 and Shashka 2 were not having as much luck. They approached the other three aircraft, assuming they were two CF-18 Hornets chasing a MiG-29. Unfortunately, it was three CF-18s. The Canadians got on the tail of the MiGs, and Shashka 1 made a fetal error. He tried to make a level turn at high speed to push enough g to prevent the Canadians from getting missile lock with their Sidewinders. He succeeded, but the MiG-29 lost energy in the turn faster than the CF-18. One of the Canadian pilots pulled in close enough to Vlasov's MiG to get off a lucky shot. It clipped the wing root. At such high g, the damage from the 20mm cannon burst was lethal. The main wing member was damaged, and the pressure shattered it. The plane spun out of control with a crumpled wing. Vlasov did not manage to escape. His wingman, German

Burlakov, was only a pilot third class. Pitted against three enemy fighters, he stood little chance. He managed to evade the Canadian who had downed his flight leader by making a sudden upward climb. But the other two Canadians were following close on his heels and launched two Sidewinders. One impacted in the tail pipe. The plane held together for several seconds, allowing Burlakov to eject.

Shashka 3 and Shashka 4 now found themselves at about 1,500 meters in a clear blue sky. They headed in the direction of the Canadian aircraft, but their radars picked up no sign of them. There was no warning sign from the Syrena and they could see nothing overhead. The first sign they saw of the enemy fighters was the glare of their tracers as they came sizzling by from down and to the left. The Canadians had managed to maneuver into their blind spot below and behind them. The CF-18s roared overhead. Kostenko's MiG had taken a hit in the outer wing panel, and Dushak's had taken at least one hit in the left air intake. The damage was not serious. Dushak and Kostenko tried to follow the Canadians into the climb, but then noticed the other three Canadian CF-18s coming up towards them. It was time for a fast getaway.

The MiGs had an altitude advantage and Dushak planned to use it. He nosed his aircraft down and aimed directly at the approaching Canadian formation. He radioed to Kostenko to release IR flares from the tail dispenser to distract any heat-seeking missiles. The rate of closure between the two groups was tremendous, more than 1,100 kilometers an hour. Dushak aimed at the left-most Canadian fighter with his cannon, and as they reached the 1.5 kilometer range, he fired. Although his burst failed to impact, Kostenko got a solid hit on the right tail surface of one of the Canadian planes. Although Dushak and Kostenko were pulling away too fast to see it, the tail eventually ripped off, and the Canadian pilot punched out.

The two MiG-29s headed to the ground at breakneck speed trying to evade their more numerous tormentors. Luckily for them, the Canadians were at the outer limits of their fuel endurance and had begun to head home. Dushak and Kostenko were under the cloud bank, approaching Mach 1. Dushak could feel his heart pounding, and he was soaking wet from his own sweat. His mouth had that metallic tang you get from too much adrenaline. His first concern was that they had escaped safely. But as he calmed down, he began to worry about the Sukhoi squadron they were supposed to escort. What had happened to them? Well, at least his formation had pulled the Canadians off the bombers. But at some cost: They had lost six fighters. The Canadians also must have lost some aircraft, judging from the odd five-plane formation they had encountered.

Dushak checked the fuel status. The high-speed fighting and the heavy use of afterburner had really eaten up fuel. They were already over the Czech frontier, only ten minutes from base. Dushak was glad to be alive; Kostenko was itching for a little revenge. "Shashka Three, this is Shashka Four, we have pigeons at 3 o'clock low." "Pigeons" was slang for slow flying, vulnerable enemy aircraft. It was remarkable that Kostenko had seen them — a flight of four fighter-bombers, hugging the ground to their right. "Shashka Four, we have to be careful. Lefs confirm they're pigeons and not falcons before hammering them. Leave off the radar. Let's hit them with missiles."

The MiG-29s gracefully banked down. The enemy aircraft hadn't seen them yet. As they got closer, it was obvious they were hostiles. The peculiar bent wing and chevron tail of the F-4 Phantom are unmistakable. Dushak radioed Kostenko and told him not to use the Khrom Nikel identification system. They were apparently West German aircraft, and they had spotted the MiGs coming down on them. The four aircraft broke up into two groups of two. They jettisoned their payloads and began to pull up, trying to get some altitude for maneuver. Dushak took the right pair. The range was 1,500 meters, almost close enough for the gun. After the experience earlier, Dushak decided to salvo two R-60 missiles to have a better certainty. He heard a good clear signal of missile lock-on and fired two missiles. Kostenko had reacted slightly faster, and three missiles were tracking the two Phantoms.

Dushak's two missiles struck the rear of one of the Phantoms, in two nearly simultaneous explosions. The blast severed the left stabilizer. The airplane began a peculiar bucking motion, obviously brought about by the loss of the tail surface. The plane began to go out of control and the crew ejected. Kostenko's single missile impacted in the rear of the aircraft's tail pipe. There was a sharp blast, followed by a spurt of debris. The second Phantom continued flying, although obviously damaged. Kostenko had closed on his target and began firing with the 30mm cannon. The Phantom was probably flying on a single engine, as its speed had dropped considerably. It was unable to maneuver, and Kostenko hammered its left wing with cannon fire. Large pieces of wing panel flew back, and Kostenko shifted the gun toward the fuselage with a quick jerk of the stick. Hydraulic fluid or fuel began to burn, and the crippled plane nosed over. The crew ejected safely before the plane splashed all over the pasture below in a fiery smear of light and smoke.

The other two Phantoms had headed back to Germany and neither Kostenko nor Dushak could see any evidence of them. With fuel beginning to run low, Dushak ordered the pair home, and they were soon over Milovice air base. As they approached the base, it was obvious that it had been subjected to another attack. There were plumes of smoke from the repair hangars, and a pall of dust over the runways. The tower was not responding to radio calls. The usual secondary airfield for the regiment was Kbely, outside Prague, but that strip had been smashed up badly the day before and was probably not operating yet. Dushak radioed Kostenko to follow him to the Klecany-Vodochody strip north of Prague. There was a chance it had escaped today's fighting.

As they approached the airstrip, they received word from the tower that the runway was indeed open, but was still pitted from earlier attacks. They were told to be careful and use their parachutes to slow the taxiing. Dushak headed down first. They weren't kidding when they said the runway was pitted! The strip of concrete was decorated with a complicated pattern of little earth mounds where the craters had been filled. As Dushak set down his MiG, he heard a loud bang. The right tire had burst on landing, largely as a result of unobserved battle damage. The plane began skidding uncontrollably. He could do nothing to stop the skid, and the plane headed for the side of the runway. It crashed into a small stand used for landing light array, then plowed into the soft field beyond. The nose gear collapsed, bringing the aircraft to a sudden, jarring halt.

Dushak's heart was pounding wildly. As a trained pilot, he knew he'd escaped this mishap, but his other senses had been preparing for the worst. Some ground crewmen in their usual black coveralls and black berets were running to the aircraft. It suddenly occurred to him that he had better exit the plane before a fire broke out. He sprang the release on the canopy and unfastened his harness. The ground crew was shouting to him, but with his helmet on, he couldn't hear. He removed it as he got out of the cockpit. "Comrade Pilot, get out quickly! Enemy bombers!"

Before he could crawl down from his awkwardly tilted perch, Dushak heard the deafening roar of fighter-bombers immediately overhead. A group of about six F-16s screamed over, dropping cluster bombs and Durandal airfield-cratering bombs. The concussion from a nearby Durandal heaved Dushak out of the cockpit, hurling him against the ground below. He had broken a collarbone, but was otherwise all right. He staggered to his feet and began running away from his wrecked aircraft toward a nearby clump of sandbags.

The airfield hangars took a heavy pounding. Kostenko's aircraft had been taxiing near the hangars, but Dushak could see no signs of his wingman or his aircraft. He hoped he had made it safely before the attack began. No more planes would be flying from this field today!

There is a cartoon, popular on many American army bases, showing a couple of Russian tankers in a cafe in Paris, their tank parked outside. Their feet are up on the table, and they are sitting back, having a mug of beer. One tanker says to the other: "Tell me, Ivan. Who did win the air war?"

The Soviet armed forces are not as preoccupied with tactical air forces as the U.S. Although the Soviets have a large tactical air arm, the so-called Frontal Aviation of the Air Forces, it receives a smaller chunk of the Soviet budget than is the case with the U.S. Air Force and U.S. Army. Some of this has to do with historical experiences, and some of it is due to budget and technology constraints.

The Soviet Air Force in World War II was heavily oriented toward supporting the ground troops. The aircraft produced in the greatest numbers during the war was the II-2 Shturmovik ground attack aircraft. The Soviet Ground Forces did not put as much dependence on tactical air support as did U.S. forces, since air superiority over the battlefield was usually in question.

Although the Soviet Air Force could attain local air superiority in 1943, the Germans still managed to contest control of the air right into 1944. In contrast, the U.S. ground forces enjoyed air superiority almost from the outset in the European theater. The Soviet Ground Forces came to depend more heavily on artillery for fire support than on air forces. The Soviet Air Force accounted for less than 5 percent of the German tanks destroyed during the fighting on the Eastern Front. In contrast, Allied fighter-bombers accounted for nearly 20 percent of the tanks knocked out in the Normandy fighting, and almost 50 percent in Korea in 1950. More importantly, Allied tactical air forces had played a vital role in smashing German logistics and supply efforts.

From 1945 until the late 1960s, Soviet tactical air forces received little priority. In the late 1940s and early 1950s, the accent was on strategic air defense. Fighters like the MiG-15, MiG-17, MiG-19, and MiG-21 were configured primarily for the antibomber role. The Il-10, successor to the Il-2 Shturmovik, ended production in the late 1940s and was not succeeded by a dedicated ground attack plane for more than a decade. In the post-Stalin period, the Soviets began shifting to the view that the battlefield in Europe would go nuclear, and so dedicated conventional attack aircraft would be of questionable value.

When the Soviets finally began to pay more attention to ground attack, they introduced a thinly rehashed fighter design, the Sukhoi Su-7, for this role. The Sukhoi Su-7B was viewed as a "frontal fighter" capable of being used as either a fighter or a light bomber. It was mediocre in either role. But the Soviets noted the critical role of air power in the 1967 Mideast war, in Vietnam, and in the 1973 Yom Kippur war. In the late 1960s, a major program to rejuvenate Soviet Frontal Aviation began. A new generation of MiG fighters, the MiG-23/27, was developed clearly for the tactical air role. The Su-7 was modernized into the more successful Su-17/ 20/22 family. And the Soviets began deploying attack helicopters in their Air Force for close air support.

Soviet tactical aircraft design has been heavily influenced by trends in the West. The Su-7 and the Su-17/22 Fitters were inspired by American strike fighters like the F-105, even though technically they have little in common. The MiG-23/27 Flogger emulated the highly successful F-4 Phantom. Like the Phantom, the Flogger was an attempt to develop a single aircraft capable of being employed in the fighter and fighter-bomber role. The Su-24 Fencer was a clear counterpart to the F-lll/FB-nL This highly capable strike aircraft represents the high-technology end of tactical air support. It is a deep penetration aircraft, with an elaborate and sophisticated navigation system. On the lower end of the technology spectrum, the new Su-25 Frogfoot is a counterpart of the U.S. A-10 ground attack aircraft.

The MiG-29 Fulcrum, which is the centerpiece of this fictional scenario, is a Soviet attempt to come to grips with the new generation of American fighter aircraft. The MiG-29 was developed in the early 1970s as a counterpart to the F-16 and F-18. In terms of size, it is closer to the F-18, and shares a very similar configuration. The Soviets also developed a counterpart to the larger American F-15 Eagle in the form of the Su-27 Flanker.

A bit more is known about the MiG-29 Fulcrum than many other new Soviet combat aircraft as a result of glasnost. In 1987, the Soviets displayed the MiG-29 at a Finnish air base, and in 1988, they took the unprecedented step of displaying it at the biannual Farnborough Air Show in England. This gave Western aircraft designers and pilots a chance to see it firsthand. While Western pilots were not allowed to fly it (at least as yet), they were able to get some sense of its capabilities.

The aerobatic performance of the MiG at the show was spectacular. Although some of the attraction was due to its novelty, its performance did put it in the same class as the F-16 or F-18. Instantaneous and sustained turn rates appeared to be comparable to Western fighters, but not necessarily any better. What made the performance especially remarkable was the nature of its design. Although it seems to offer performance approaching the best of Western fighters, the technology in many respects is of an earlier generation. The Soviet aircraft designers have shown an intriguing ability to push older technologies to the limit in order to extract performances and capabilities that Western designers obtain through the use of new technology.

One of the big surprises was that the MiG-29 does not use fly-by-wire flight controls. Fly by wire was pioneered on the F-16, and represents an important advance in this area. In the past, flight controls were directly linked to the pilot's controls. The pilot moved the stick or rudder pedals, and the control surface moved. In a fly-by-wire aircraft, the controls are linked to a flight computer and flight sensors. The computer takes the movement of the stick or pedals and then subtly manipulates one or more control surfaces to get the desired result by consulting, almost instantaneously, with the flight sensors. Such a system permits more precise control and makes the aircraft simpler to fly in a combat environment, where extensive maneuvering is necessary.

In addition, it permits the designer to select aircraft configurations that are more maneuverable. Aircraft that are inherently stable are not particularly maneuverable, even though they are easy to control. Aircraft that border on aerodynamic instability can be very maneuverable. Such designs have not been used in the past, since they would be too taxing on the pilot. But with fly by wire, the computer keeps the control surfaces moving to ensure stability and, when hard maneuvering is required, it takes advantage of the aerodynamic instability of the design and provides complex changes in the flight control surfaces that a human could not manage.

The Soviet designers, recognizing the limited possibilities in their industry for mass producing the high-tech items needed for fly by wire, developed a more conventional flight control package and aircraft design, which permits maneuverability approaching that of Western fighters. The designer in charge of the MiG-29 project, Mikhail Valdenberg, stated that computers were used only where absolutely indispensable. Understood in the context of traditional Soviet defensive rationalizations, this means that the Soviet aviation industry could not produce sufficient flight computers to equip the MiG-29 with more sophisticated controls. The MiG-29 does employ a stability augmentation system, rate dampers, and automatic leading edge devices and flaps, which are only several steps away from true fly-by-wire controls.

How close the MiG-29 comes to Western fighter performance is not clear, and probably won't be until pilots who have flown the F-16 or F-18 get a chance to fly the MiG-29. What is clear is that the MiG-29 is more demanding of its pilots than comparable Western fighters. Fly-by-wire controls free the pilot's attention from many aspects of flight control; the plane cannot be maneuvered in a way that would lose stability. This means the F-16 or F-18 pilot can push the plane to its very limits without fear of losing control. The Soviet pilot, on the other hand, must be extremely careful to avoid maneuvers that stray from controlled flight regimes or the angle-of-attack limits. To do so would risk losing control of the aircraft. During cruising this is no problem. It becomes tricky when the fighter is engaged in maneuvering combat, where he can least afford to divert his attention. This is why the angle-of-attack indicator is red-lined at a modest 25 degrees, which places some limits on maneuvering. The matter of flight controls is so serious that in the MiG-29 cockpit the alpha/load indicator has a more prominent position than even the Syrena radar-warning receiver.

In view of its sizzling performance, other aspects of the MiG-29 design proved to be a bit surprising. The cockpit of the Fulcrum is a 1960s configuration with hints of 1970s technology. The instrumentation resembles that of the F-4 Phantom generation. The dials and instruments are straightforward analog systems. There are none of the digital displays or multifunction displays found on later Western fighters. The radar display is small and is covered by a viewing hood, which suggests that the Soviets have not yet managed to field sunlight-readable displays. This is awkward for the pilot, since he must bend forward to read the radar display. This may seem like a frill, but the interface between the man and the machine is proving to be increasingly important. Pilots today face a data overload. They not only have to fly the plane, they have to keep track of whether enemy radars are searching for them, whether someone is interrogating them with an IFF system, and whether all the complicated electronics systems are functioning properly. In peacetime flying, this can be managed. But in the confusion and stress of modern air war, this data overload can have fatal consequences. Ignore the radar warning system at the critical moment, and seconds later a missile will impact against your aircraft. Advanced displays are not gold-plating. They are an attempt to simplify the pilot's tasks by making the flow of data more coherent and easier to understand. Western fighters have an advantage in this regard.

The MiG-29 is typical of contemporary Soviet weapons design that accents machine performance but often takes shortcuts in the interface between man and machine. Another example: the pilot's seat is nearly vertical, while Western designs use an angled seat, which allows the pilot to better cope with high-g (gravitational) forces during combat maneuvering. The MiG-29 is stressed for nine g's, but its pilots are not. Although pilots can be trained in straining maneuvers to help them cope with high-g forces, their endurance can be enhanced by design features such as inclined seats. A pilot in an inclined seat will be more willing to push his aircraft into hard (and personally painful) eight-g and nine-g turns, knowing that he will not black out.

Other aspects of the design show that the Soviets have paid less attention to detail than the Western designers. The MiG-29 canopy configuration does not permit the pilot to "check his six," meaning he cannot swing his head around to check the six o'clock position directly behind him. On the early MiG-29s, there was a radio strip antenna in the upper canopy

that obstructed upward vision. Designs like the F-15, F-16, and F-18 were purposely built to allow the pilot to see behind him and in all other directions with a minimum of hindrance. The Soviets originally fitted the MiG-29 with crude automobile-style rearview mirrors to give the pilot some rear vision. On the newer production MiG-29s like the one at Farnborough, they have adopted Western-style curved mirrors, which reduce obstruction. But mirrors are not as beneficial as good cockpit design to give the pilot a clear picture of the environment behind him. Also, the helmet for the MiG-29 pilot is outdated compared to Western designs and is about twice as heavy. The trend has been toward lighter and more comfortable helmets, to encourage pilots to keep their heads moving, surveying the sky around them. The Soviet helmet is heavy due to the padding needed to protect the pilot against the high levels of cockpit noise — it seems no attention has been paid to reducing the helmet's size and weight. Combined with the restricted space under the canopy, the helmet inhibits the pilot from moving his head rapidly, and often, to check for hostile aircraft.

The buzzword in fighter combat these days is "situational awareness." It is fighter jock talk for the special skill needed to prevail in the modern dogfight. Situational awareness means knowing where you and your plane are, where the enemy planes are, and the status of your fuels and weapons. More than that, it implies an intellectual or instinctive ability to understand the dynamics of fighter combat. It is somewhat comparable to the instincts of a great chess player, who can see several moves ahead and who knows the likely responses an opponent will make to his own moves. Likewise, situational awareness implies a sharp foresight into how an enemy will respond to a pilot's actions. At the heart of this concept is a clear picture of the existing environment — where the enemy is, what he is doing. Good aircraft design cannot give the pilot situational awareness, but it can make it easier for a pilot to better hone his abilities. Soviet flight instrumentation and cockpit design inhibit situational awareness compared to Western designs.

Another feature of the MiG-29 design that proves rather surprising is the nature of the surface finish on the aircraft. The fuselage design is elegant and smooth, especially in the forward areas where it is most critical. Many control surfaces are made of advanced honeycombed or composite materials. But toward the rear surfaces, the finish is often very rough. There are exposed rivet heads where Western aircraft would use flush fasteners. On close inspection, it can be observed that the front screws that hold inspection panels in place have unusual blue lines painted across them. The explanation for this is indicative of continuing Soviet problems in keeping high-tech equipment in service: the blue lines are used to ensure that ground crews properly reattach the panels to the aircraft. If the blue line on the screw head does not match the edges of the blue line on the panel, they are not tight enough. Western fighters avoid the problem by using specialized fasteners. The Soviets use an older fastener technology and, combined with doubts about the skills and experience of their ground crews, it can lead to some concern about aircraft maintenance.

Overall, the impression created by the MiG-29 induces respect for what the designers were able to accomplish using such mediocre technology. The MiG-29 is testimony to Soviet design ingenuity, which has long been a trademark of Soviet aircraft design. The MiG bureau has turned out a remarkable aircraft considering the raw material they have used. In World War II, Soviet fighter designers pushed plywood fuselage construction to the outer limits, approaching the design qualities of German fighters using aluminum. But the MiG-29 design also highlights the fact that the Soviets are still behind in many aspects of aerospace technology. There appear to be continuing bottlenecks in the mass production of advanced electronics, and the fighter designers have adopted less desirable configurations knowing that better components would not be available.

Details of the MiG-29's weapons are less well known. The MiG-29 is usually armed with four R-60 missiles, better known by their NATO code names as AA-8 Aphids, and two R-72 (AA-10 Alamo) missiles. The R-60s are a new infrared guided missile, replacing the old R-3S (AA-2 Atoll). The R-60s are not as capable as current models of the Sidewinder missile, such as the AIM-9L or AIM-9M. Their seekers are not as sensitive, they do not have as much range, and their warheads are a bit suspect. As suggested in the fictional scenario, the Soviets may have to launch two at a time to ensure a kill. A recent incident in southern Africa confirms the problems with these missiles. A small British Aerospace-125 business jet carrying the president of Botswana was accidentally attacked by an Angolan MiG-21, which fired two R-60s. One missile struck the right engine pod, blowing it off. However, the damage was not sufficient to cripple the aircraft, which landed safely.

Details of the newer R-72 are lacking. The missile comes in both radar-guided and infrared-guided versions. It is more comparable to the American AIM-7 Sparrow and offers longer range (and a bigger warhead) than the R-60. The problem with the R-72 and other semiactive radar-guided missiles, is that the aircraft must continue to illuminate the target with its radar until the missile impacts. This is difficult to do in high-speed dogfights, as a wildly jinking enemy aircraft can break radar lock if it can escape the limited cone of the radar's emissions.

Radar missiles are not really intended for dogfighting; they are intended for long-range engagements beyond visual range. They favor aircraft with big, powerful radars that can locate an enemy aircraft before they themselves are detected. In the fictional scenario, the Canadian CF-18 Hornets discover the attacking Soviet flight first and engage them with Sparrow missiles. The Soviets do not see the Canadians, since the Canadians are attacking off axis, from the side where the Soviet's radar cannot see them. The MiG-29's radar warning receivers (RWR) do pick up signals. But RWRs are notoriously fickle and a regular source of false alarms.

The new generation of radar-guided missiles, like the U.S. Air Force's AMRAAM, will mark a revolution in fighter weapons. The AMRAAM contains its own little radar in the nose. The fighter no longer has to continue to use its radar to guide the missile to its target. This will enable small fighters, like the F-16, to fire multiple radar-guided missiles at different targets nearly simultaneously. The AMRAAM represents a growing trend to extend the range of dogfights and the lethal envelope of the fighter plane.

By the time of the Vietnam War, most aviators were expecting that dogfights would take place primarily with missiles. However, the early generation Sidewinders and Sparrows were fickle. Their electronics took a beating, and they often worked poorly as a result. Missiles accounted for the majority of air-to-air kills in the Vietnam fighting, but they were expended at far higher rates than expected. As a result, there was a backlash against all-missile armament, and renewed interest in air combat maneuvering with a gun. The best evidence of the revival of classic dogfighting is the establishment of special air combat maneuver courses such as the well-known "Top Gun" program.

In spite of the backlash against missiles due to the Vietnam experience, newer generations of missiles have overcome many of the reliability problems. During the Falklands War, British Harriers shot down eighteen Argentinian fighters, using twenty-seven AIM-9L Sidewinder missiles. Israeli F-16s during the 1982 Lebanon war shot down thirty-five Syrian fighters with forty-seven AIM-9L or AIM-9P missiles, and five more with 20mm guns. These recent conflicts suggest that missiles will remain the primary weapon in air-to-air combat, although the gun will remain an important supplement. New weapons like AMRAAM will continue to extend the range of dogfights. The majority of dogfights in past wars have been within visual range. The availability of weapons like AMRAAM will increase the percentage of engagements that occur beyond visual range.

Besides the aircraft and missiles, the other key ingredient in fighter combat is the pilot. Indeed, a good many pilots would argue that the pilot is the key ingredient in dogfighting. How do Soviet pilots stack up against NATO pilots? This question is nearly impossible to answer due to the lack of information and lack of evidence of Soviet pilots in actions.

NATO judgment of Soviet piloting skill has been influenced by Soviet performance in World War II and, indirectly, by the performance of Soviet-trained pilots in the Mideast and Asia.

Soviet pilots in World War II, on average, were not very good. German pilots were so contemptuous of Soviet pilots that high scores won by German aces on the Eastern Front were considered equal to scores only a fraction as large won fighting against the better trained British or American pilots in Western Europe or the North African campaign. And Soviet-trained pilots in Korea and the Mideast have not done well. The embarrassing performance of the Syrians in Lebanon in 1982, when they lost more than seventy aircraft to the Israelis without extracting a single loss from their opponents, rebounded on the Soviets, staining them with the taint of Syrian ineptitude. Western views of Soviet pilot quality are further soured by negative judgments about Soviet tactics. The Soviets have fevored ground control of fighters, particularly when they are used in an air defense role. NATO fighter tactics place greater emphasis on individual pilot initiative.

This combination of historical factors and recent experience with Soviet-trained pilots has created many myths about contemporary Soviet pilots. Here are some of them: Soviet wingmen are helpless without their leader. Soviet pilots are good at interception, but they are totally dependent on ground control and do not train for maneuvering engagements. Soviet training is so rigid that pilots will not display initiative in combat.

The myths about Soviet pilots contain a grain of truth, but miss several key points. Some pilots, especially Soviet PVO air defense pilots and foreign pilots trained by the PVO (like the North Vietnamese), tend to place the accent on interception and ground control. This is natural, since their main role is strategic bomber interception, not tactical fighter combat. It is often forgotten that there are two Soviet Air Forces, the PVO, which controls air defense missiles and air defense interceptor fighters, and the VVS (Air Force), which controls tactical fighters (such as the MiG-29) as part of their Frontal Aviation branch.

Soviet writing in their air force magazines suggests that they have appreciated many of the shortcomings attributed to them by NATO. They mouth all the right words about requiring greater pilot initiative, and the need for more attention to "free-lance" or "free-hunt'' offensive fighter sweeps. It is not clear if Soviet tactical training is yet up to the task of preparing Soviet pilots for these roles. As in other branches of the armed forces, Soviet aviation training leans toward the staged and the stereotyped. Missions, even training missions, are meticulously planned without much accent on dynamic tactical environments and the unexpected. Soviet air combat maneuver training does not appear to be comparable to American Top Gun-style training. A study prepared by a fighter pilot at General Dynamics suggests that Soviet pilots display good basic airmanship, but are not as well trained as American pilots in adapting to the changing environment in tactical situations.

The Soviets have often tried to overcome qualitative disadvantages in men and machines with greater numbers. This is true of aircraft as well. In the NATO environment, the Soviets are likely to have some numerical superiority in fighters and tactical aircraft over NATO. But these advantages are not as great as in many areas of ground equipment. It is not as easy to translate numerical superiority in aircraft into superior combat power; the key link would be the ability to sustain air operations. Maintenance is absolutely critical. In Korea, the Chinese and Korean air forces had marked superiority in overall numbers. But American fighters displayed sustained combat power because they were well maintained and could be sent on missions more often than their adversaries.

The Soviets appear to have shortcomings in sustaining air operations. Their ground maintenance force suffers the endemic problems brought about by a reliance on a conscript force without an adequate middle level of professional, nonofficer technical personnel. Maintenance is slow because the officers must closely supervise the handling performed on the aircraft. This problem may be addressed in new reforms, but it is likely to linger well into the 1990s.

Like the Soviet Union itself, the Soviet Air Force is a curious blend. The most advanced technology coexists with outdated technology, advanced tactical thinking with outdated training. The capabilities of the Soviet Air Force can be exaggerated by concentrating on one aspect, or underestimated by concentrating on the other. Soviet pilots are well trained and courageous; their planes among the world's best. But in the arena of air combat, a little bit better training and a little bit better technology often make the critical difference between victory and defeat.