Tempered Steel

Chapter 15

The Defense Headquarters was a shambles. Two Tomahawks hit the structure and toppled one end, but there was still access to the bunker underneath. Men and women were running around frantically, not really accomplishing anything. In the Battle Center a group of senior military and political officers were huddled around a large map table. Two east coast radar sites began reporting aircraft inbound. Hua Te Nua positioned himself at the head of the giant table with a map of the Korean peninsula. He was shouting orders to everyone.

“I want every fighter up and after the planes in the east!” he shouted.

“Comrade Minister, our planes near the east coast are already alerted and taking off,” an old general said.

“Just the east coast? I said I want them all up!”

“But, Comrade Minister, that would leave us vulnerable if…” He didn’t get to finish the sentence. Hua Te Nua pulled the revolver from his holster and shot the man between the eyes. As the old man dropped to the floor Nua shouted, “I expect my orders to be obeyed! Get this garbage out of my sight and get the rest of those planes up!”

Immediately men began dashing around the room grabbing telephones and issuing orders. Watching as plotters were positioning symbols on the table, the incoming aircraft were plotted over the Sea of Japan, steadily making their way inbound. In a few minutes North Korean aircraft had taken off and were outbound toward the incoming threat. Airplanes from all over the North were soon in the air moving east.

“The Wonsan Threat Center is reporting American B-52 airborne search radars bearing 122 degrees,” an operator reported in the Battle Center.

“Is everything up?” Nua shouted.

“Everything, Comrade Minister,” said the General.

“There are aircraft coming through the chaff cloud,” reported the telephone monitor in the room. The men huddled closer to the man as he repeated the data. “Multiple aircraft, estimated high altitude,” the man announced. “We are getting jamming.”

“B-52s. Those are very old American bombers,” Nua said with a swagger. The other men in the room stole glances at one another. They were all thinking two things. Some of the fighters going to intercept those bombers were older than a B-52 and Americans would not be that stupid. The Air Force general picked up a telephone and issued orders for the intercepting planes to watch for fighters escorting the bombers. More than 80 fighters were up and on their way. None of the fighters ever heard the message. A Navy EA-6B Prowler switched on its jamming gear. It had already interfered with the radar signals. Now it was going after the communications.

The flight of ten B-52s was preceded by a flight of ten Korean Air Lines 747s that were modified to carry large amounts of chaff. They closed to within 100 miles of the coast and turned south, dispensing the chaff through specially rigged dispensers in their cargo holds. Upon completing their first run they doubled back and spread another layer. Once their task was complete, they all turned back toward Narita, Japan, their pilots relieved that they had not tangled with North Korean fighters and glad they had been allowed to take part.

The B-52 pilots were being fed information from a Navy E-2C Hawkeye loitering 150 miles off the North Korean coast. Passing through the chaff cloud the B-52s began launching cruise missiles. Once launched, the airplanes turned around and flew back through the chaff cloud. By now, the fighters were within seventy miles of the big bombers, closing rapidly. The lead pilot actually saw some of the missiles fly past on the way to their targets. He called out over the radio for his flights to close up and mete out revenge against the Americans. Immediately after his radio call, he and his MIG-21 were blotted from the sky.

Twenty F-14 Tomcats from VFA-25 off the carrier USS Ronald Reagan were waiting just inside the chaff cloud. They received the data link from the Hawkeye and waited until the bombers made their turns. The F-14 pilots then switched on their radars and let go with Phoenix missiles at a range of eighty miles. The old missiles streaked up to altitude and then plunged down on their targets. Out of the eighty missiles launched, sixty-eight found their target with only twelve being either double targeted or failing. The MIG-17s, 21s, and 23s fell from the sky. The rest watched in horror as the F-14s followed their missiles in and began closing rapidly. They were expecting bombers and possibly a few fighters, but these planes had already decimated their force and were coming in after them. Several of the remaining MIGs attempted to engage, but the Americans were in no mood to play. The highly maneuverable F-14 with its variable geometry wings began flying circles around the Koreans, and one by one the Koreans were shot down either with Sidewinders or guns. Soon the few remaining enemy aircraft turned and dashed for home. The F-14s did not follow.

The last to arrive in the area were the MIG-29s. All those aircraft came from the west coast of Korea and spent fuel to try and catch up to their comrades. They arrived to see a few MIGs heading home and the American fighters too far ahead to pursue. As they arrived at the east coast they searched for any additional targets out to sea, but none were sighted. That was when the second surprise hit them.

Forty F-4 Phantoms came streaking up the center of the peninsula hugging the ground. They turned to see the retreating MIGs above them. One flight pulled back on their sticks and hit the afterburners. Within seconds they heard the warble in their headsets letting them know they had a Sidewinder lock and let the missiles go. Only a single MIG-23 survived, damaged, to return home. The rest of the flight turned right and headed for the coast. Getting their cues from the Hawkeye, the Phantoms pulled up to find themselves behind the MIG-29s and let loose with more Sidewinders. Of the six available MIG-29s, five were destroyed with one so damaged the pilot left the area trailing smoke and maneuvering erratically. The Phantom pilots turned south again.

In the North Korean Battle Center Minister Nua was livid with rage. He was screaming at everyone present. “You are all incompetent! You allowed all of this to happen. All this time the people purchased these expensive aircraft and all you did was let them shoot you down! You told the people you could protect their borders and you failed!” he screamed. Calling the guards into the room he ordered all of the senior officers arrested. During the screaming the enlisted men receiving the reports from the field were too stunned to perform their jobs. They stood motionless as several of the senior officers struggled with the guards. One was shot when he tried to pull his service revolver. In the confusion the men failed to hear the reports of additional aircraft inbound. Not that it made any difference. The fighter protection for North Korea had practically ceased to exist.

The sixty Tomahawk cruise missiles from the B-52 raid descended unopposed to an altitude of 100 feet and flew to their targets — the remaining North Korean airfields. The information from two SR-71 flights had pinpointed exactly where the temporary airfields had been set up. Because of the EA-6B, communications that would warn of the missiles was disrupted and they were flying below the radars that were hastily set up.

At the largest of the airports were a large number of bombers and other attack aircraft being readied for missions against the South. Fueling had been completed except for some old Soviet IL-28 bombers that were being quickly refurbished on a far end of the field. Near the terminal, airborne troops were boarding several AN-24 transports getting ready to be dropped behind the lines. Everyone looked harried and a little nervous. The flight crews had worked feverishly to ready as many aircraft as possible, repairing several from parts salvaged from damaged aircraft. The morning launch of their fighter aircraft had been a wake up to the men that the war was on its way. Most had confidence that their fighters would be able to protect them. Some of the attack aircraft were starting their engines when a strange popping noise was heard.

Like the first night, the first of the Tomahawks began dispensing sub-munitions along the runway, spreading them nearly half way along its entire length before pulling up, stalling and falling back, crashing into the ground and adding to the destruction. As the munitions approached the ground, the shaped charges in the munitions exploded downward with great force, gouging holes in the pavement and sending shrapnel flying in all directions. The second Tomahawk slammed into the control tower. The third and fourth spread their sub-munitions along the ramp directly over the fueled and armed aircraft, transports, and men.

The aircraft went up in great plumes of flame as the fuel tanks were punctured and ignited. The heat became so intense the paint on the nearby buildings began to burn and the aluminum skin of the aircraft caught fire. Soon the ordnance on the airplanes baked off, adding to the carnage. The transports became pyres as the men were trapped inside. The few still outside the aircraft fared no better. Most were doused with flaming fuel, some running for over 100 meters before succumbing to the burns being inflicted. Trucks that just finished fueling the airplanes also went up. Nothing was spared.

Across the field the men working on the old bombers watched in horror as the airport was hit repeatedly. For a while it seemed that the opposite side of the airport had become a volcano. The heat seared the men’s clothing and forced several to seek shelter in the air raid trenches. Debris from the explosions rained down on the old bombers. In one case a large door from one of the transports had come down through a wing. Every time the men came out it seemed another bomb would bake off, sending them back into their trench. It took an hour before the explosions finally ceased and the fires died down.

When the mechanics ventured out of their trenches, nothing remained that was recognizable. The terminal building was gone — burned to cinders with only a few metal ribs giving evidence it was ever there. The hangars were blasted apart from within. The thin sheet metal on the walls had been blown outward. Only a skeleton remained. Of the aircraft, only bits and pieces remained. Not a single airplane was untouched. Even the row of attack helicopters was gone. Interestingly, the rotors of the helicopters remained in position lying on the concrete of the ramp. They appeared centered on a pile of cinders and burned metal. What few men who remained didn’t even have a place to sleep. They gathered near one of the old bombers and wondered what to do next.

The next wave came from the west. USS Harry S. Truman launched her complete deckload of fighters and attack aircraft. The F-4 Phantoms and A-6 Intruders were salvaged from the Davis-Monthan boneyard simply because they flew without the fly-by-wire systems of the newer aircraft. Their systems might be damaged by EMP, but the planes would get the pilots home. In most cases, they could even continue their mission. The Truman was overloaded with aircraft. As the deck was cleared, more were brought up for launch. Just over ninety aircraft were on the way to their target. Even half of the Phantoms were carrying bombs. The rest were ready just in case the morning raids had not completed the job.

The pilots were old timers. Most had served when their airplanes were operational and knew the aircraft systems. Nearing the coast, the pilots and crews were nervous. The EA-6B was doing its job, but no one was sure what would be waiting. As they passed the coast, all eyes scanned the area for incoming missiles and aircraft. The threat receivers were operating but remained silent. Crossing just north of Changch'an-ni, the pilots saw the remnants of an air base. Smoke still rose from one of the buildings. A few rounds of anti-aircraft fire came up to greet them, but the tracers didn’t come close. Their primary target was only about twenty miles away.

Just a few missile batteries had been restored around Pyongyang in the 24 hours since the first strikes. A telephone warning had been received from the coast and the local commanders switched on their search radars. Almost immediately they saw the incoming aircraft, activated their guidance radars, and prepared to launch. When they did, the lead Phantoms launched a total of 12 HARM missiles against the six sites. The High Speed Anti-Radiation missiles immediately homed in on the guidance radars, covering the twenty miles in just a few seconds. The missiles slammed into the sites, knocking out the radars or destroying the missiles nearby, but not before three missiles were successfully launched. The missiles streaked skyward only to find there was no guidance coming from the ground. They automatically began scanning with their onboard radar, and two of the missiles acquired a target — two of the leading F-4s. The lead jets all began maneuvering radically to throw the missiles off and fired infrared flairs to distract them. The electronic warfare systems were activated, but it was too little, too late. Only one of the missiles lost its target, flying away over the mountains. The second homed in on an F-4, exploding just under the nose of the aircraft. The resulting shrapnel tore the nose off the plane and sent hot metal into both engine intakes. The F-4 erupted into a ball of flame, its pilot and rear seater never even knowing what hit them.

The rest of the flight flew into the city and found their targets. The purpose of the raid was to cut the head off the snake. The main communications lines were cut. The telephones, radio, television, and military antenna farms were bombed to rubble. What was left of the defense ministry building was hit once more and deep penetration bombs dropped to take care of anything below ground. The train lines were bombed for a two kilometer distance to ensure no more train traffic, then bombs were dropped on all the bridges across the Taedong river. The rest of the government buildings were also bombed to disrupt any governmental action. Finally, the Korea Computer Center was hit by several bombs, knocking out their main computing and data center. Losing just two aircraft, the rest joined up and headed for home.

Ricks slowly stirred from a deep sleep. He was warm and felt the most secure he had ever felt, especially in this country. He felt a stirring at his side and a set of arms reach around him. Su Lynn nestled herself into Ricks’ side as she dozed. Both had been exhausted the night before when they returned from the hospital. Ricks was surprised when she led him back to the shelter. Even more so when she put him in bed, then joined him there. Neither spoke a word, but the love they shared simply poured out. Despite the exhaustion, sweat, and pain from the past few days the passions shared between them engulfed them and spread. Sleep finally took hold for a few hours, yet Ricks felt as if he had slept for a week. He felt renewed and refreshed. She did all this for him. He wrapped his arms around her naked form and held her close.

Su Lynn felt Ricks pull her closer. Her eyes flickered open and looked up into his. He wore a smile on his face. Su Lynn had grown to love that face. Even though he was a soldier and a man who could inflict violence, with her he was gentle and caring. She chose to believe this was the real man beneath. She had known him for only a few weeks, yet it was enough to know how she felt. Last night she had let down the last barriers between them and was not disappointed.

“We need to get up. People will talk,” Ricks said without making a move.

“I no want to move. I stay right here,” she said.

He pulled her over on top of him and kissed her warmly. “I don’t really want to either,” Ricks said. He couldn’t believe the feelings he was having. He couldn’t believe he could be so happy. She moved over him and kissed him passionately.

They were interrupted by the sounds of pots falling in the kitchen outside. The kitchen staff was obviously just outside the door.

Ricks gave a sigh. “I guess we’ll need to finish this later,” he said. Glancing at his watch he looked back into her eyes. “And I do need to go check in and see how Paul is doing this morning. Then maybe we need to try and find a place where we can be together.”

Su Lynn looked at him. “I not think there is a place in the city. They specially not give rooms to people not married.” Her disappointment was plainly evident.

He smiled at her. “Then maybe we need to take care of that, too.” He marveled at the joy that appeared on her face. “Su Lynn, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Would you share your life with me?”

Through tears she nodded. “Yes, Dale,” she choked out before he kissed her again.

After a moment of tenderness, both left the bed and began dressing. Ricks took a moment to look at Su Lynn as she stood naked beside him. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He reached around her and gave her one more hug, kissing her on the neck.

They both dressed quickly and opened the door into the kitchen. The people busied themselves preparing the morning meal. Occasionally one would look over at them and smile. Su Lynn was afraid of what people would say, but everyone was acting as if they had been married for years. That one small token lifted her spirits even more.

Ricks took her hands. “I’ll go check in and should be back by lunch. Then we’ll go out and do a few things together,” he said.

She nodded and he kissed her lightly. Ricks put his cover on his head and walked out the back door, stopping only briefly to give a wave. Su Lynn turned back to her duties. As she worked, her assistants smiled at her and helped her as before. The old woman who helped her long before came over and gave her a slight hug. The twinkle in her eyes told more than could be said.

Ricks entered the hospital and walked up to Hufham’s room. He could hear him from down the hall.

“I don’t need to stay here for this. I can go back to the BEQ!” he demanded.

“Master Sergeant, you will remain in this room for at least one more day so I can make sure you don’t have some kind if infection,” said the doctor in a patient voice. “That is an order,” he said as he snapped the chart shut and glared at him.

“Look, Doc, it won’t be so bad in the BEQ. I can sit in my bed and read or something for a few days,” he said almost pleading.

“That’s good,” the doctor said. “It will wait for at least 24 hours, and then you can do just exactly that. You need to know that if that bullet hadn’t bounced off the rib the way it did you wouldn’t even be here talking to me so disrespectfully,” he chided. “An inch to the left and you would have swallowed the damn thing when it went through your esophagus. So far, you have been one lucky guy. Don’t blow it by being stupid. Besides, at least here you can look at the nurses,” he said with a grin.

Hufham gave up. He didn’t really feel like arguing. The pain in his arm was dull but there. It was propped up by a soft cast that allowed the wound to heal. “I can’t argue with that,” he grunted.

Ricks walked in the door. “You tell him, Doc. But I would have those nurses duct tape him to the bed to make sure he stays. Or better yet, for their own protection,” he said.

Hufham gave a disgusted look. “See what I have to put up with? Can’t you find something for this guy to do?”

“I’m sure he has plenty to keep him busy,” the doctor said. “I’ll check back in with you a little later,” he said as he left the room.

Ricks walked over and sat down beside the bed. “You get nasty when you’re hurt.”

“Kiss my ass,” he said with a smile. “What did you do last night?”

“Went to bed,” Ricks said in mock hurt. “I checked into the BEQ. I have at least five days before I have to return. They’re giving us old guys a break while the youngsters get a handle on things,” he said sitting back in the chair.

Hufham looked at Ricks closely. Something was changed about him. He looked happy — something neither of them had looked in weeks. It became obvious Ricks had not slept in his BEQ bed. He started grinning at him.

“What?” Ricks questioned.

“Oh nothing. How’s Su Lynn?”

“Great. Still at the shelter. I’m going to check on a few things and get back with her at lunch,” he said. His face beamed when he mentioned her.

“She’s a great girl. You two should have a great family,” he said easing deeper into the pillows.

Ricks got a look on his face like a deer looking into some headlights. He sputtered a second.

“Don’t give me that innocent look. Look, Dale, we’ve both known Su Lynn for a while now and you are my best friend. Don’t you think I can read the tea leaves?”

“Yea, but I just…”

“About damn time, too. You go take care of business. I gotta sit here in this glorified brothel for another day anyway. Do this for yourself, Dale. I’ll be around to be your best man.”

Ricks looked over at the man who had once been someone he aspired to be like. If Hufham approved, he must be on the right track. He nodded at Hufham. “Okay. I need to stop by and see the Colonel anyway. I was also going to see a chaplain to see what I needed to do.”

“Good. You might go by the old Lodge and see if they have a room somewhere. At least you might find a place to be alone. The BEQ is no place for a honeymoon,” Hufham said.

Ricks stood. “You need anything? Su Lynn and I will come by later.”

Hufham waved him off. “Nah. I’m okay, but I would like to see her again. If they cut me loose later I might need a little help.”

“Good enough. I’ll be back,” he said with a wave.

Hufham watched the young man leave the room. Both men had grown close over the months since that night at the DMZ. Ricks had turned into what the Army would consider a poster boy. He was a natural born leader. Too bad it took a war to bring it out, but what better way to temper steel. He thought about the things they had gone through together and smiled. Maybe they could get stationed together again. He looked around for the remote for the TV, then remembered it didn’t work. “Shit,” he said to the empty room.

Lt. Colonel Peterson was preparing to leave. The doctors had sewn him up and made sure there was no infection. He was getting ready to walk over to the BOQ when Ricks walked in. “Well look what the cat dragged in,” Peterson said.

“Hello, Colonel. I just wanted to check in on you. You getting reprieved?”

Peterson nodded. “Yeah, they don’t keep people who get shot in the ass. Throw a bandage on it and walk home,” he joked. “Have you seen Hufham?”

“Yes, sir. He has to stay another day, but he’s fine. I heard the Doc say he was lucky as hell. In the mean time I was told we have a week to recuperate,” Ricks said.

“Maybe more than that, Ricks. You and Hufham have been at it hard since the beginning. I talked to the Division Commander. He said the way this is going it could end pretty quick. ‘Till then we are to rest. What do you have planned?”

Ricks looked a little sheepish. He looked at the floor and shuffled around a little. “Well, sir, that’s something I wanted to ask you about. Sir, is it still required for me to get permission to get married?”

Peterson stopped at that one. He looked at the young man standing before him. “Well I’ll be damned! Su Lynn?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Anybody else I’d say no. Permission granted. Dale, this is great. When’s the day?”

“I don’t know, Colonel. I need to check with the chaplain. But with all this going on, I’d like it to happen real soon.”

Peterson chuckled and slapped Ricks on the shoulder. “Talk to Chaplain Henderson and tell him I said OK. There are some forms to fill out and all, but nobody can really stop you. Henderson has ways of cutting through the BS anyway,” he said.

“Thanks, Colonel,” Ricks said.

“My pleasure, Dale. Su Lynn’s a really nice girl. I’ll be at the BOQ. Let me know how things go. If I can do anything, come see me. And if somebody gives you any shit at all, I’ll make them wish they were never born,” Peterson said with an evil grin.

“I appreciate it, sir.”

“Now get out of here and marry that girl. Make something good come out of this crap,” Peterson said extending his hand.

Ricks shook the Colonel’s hand warmly. “Take it easy, Colonel.”

As Ricks left his room Peterson chuckled to himself. Of all the places to fall in love, he thought. He winced in pain as he bent over to pick up his cover. Damn pain in the ass. Well, at least I don’t have to stay in the hospital. Peterson centered his cover on his head and walked out the door.