7. CARRION BIRD
Major Johanson walked among the debris of his squadron,
sweat dripping down the inside of his MOPP suit and respirator. His breathing
was ragged and hot, he wanted nothing more to rip off the claustrophobic mask,
but he knew to do so would expose him to the persistent Blood Agent those
Soviet bastards had hit his unit with.
The Gunners and most of the ground crews had all moved
out to FARPS and dispersal stations and the Apaches left, which had survived
the bombardment by conventional munitions, and been scrubbed down were now ready to flown out between Soviet
strikes. This was going to be a “Turn tail and run” Operation they had lost an
awful lot of Aircraft. Once at the Dispersal area he would Arm up
grab his gunner and head out to help the 11th Cav to the East of
him.
He removed his mask and MOPP suit and quickly leapt into
the cockpit, the ground staff leaving their gear on helped him out. 3 mins
later he was good to go, a further minute elapsed as his number 2 over in the
other Apache gave a thumbs up. They daren’t use the Radio’s due to the Soviet direction
finding equipment getting a heads up and sending a further Salvo of missile
their way, but it would also be pointless with the airwaves crammed at almost
all levels of the Frequency spectrum with Jamming signals.
He could smell his own sweat and body odour, the smell of
Charcoal, fullers earth and he desperately wanted to shower. He literally was
sweltering in his own juices and worst of all he needed a toilet break, but
that was not a priority what he really needed to do above all else was get his bird well away from this area. The Crew chief nodded, to him with a Thumbs up, raised a
Green wand and nodded. The entire Ground crew in their NBC suits slowly wheeled
his aircraft forward by hand, and
another team open the doors by hand. Jesus Christ, he thought this is like
being in World War I with everything done by hand, all this technology and it
comes down to man pushing a 10 tonne vehicle by hand.
Once clear, he skipped the startup checks that he so
normally and fastidiously followed, there was simply no time. He did the
minimum with the Auxiliary systems, engine and hydraulic systems and avionics
that he need to get away from the field with. It felt like Eon’s as he waited
for the Engines and Rotor Head to build up speed, as soon as it was at speed,
he immediately pulled up on the collective, diving forward and left, his number
2 was about 5 seconds behind him, also having skipped the startup checks as per
their quick brief.
Major Johanson quickly got upto 100kts levelled out and
kept below 30ft, scanning for power lines and obstacles which would be a
bastard to spot in such Grey and snowy skies. A flash caught his attention and
he watched another BM-27 Rocket Strike on the Airfield, the Hangar he had just
left was okay, but 500 metres away once again the A10’s bore the brunt of the
assault. At least in a Helicopter he could land and take off in a field, these
A-10 Warthog’s needed Runways and that made them vulnerable. So far just over
half of them survived in their hardened shelters, but the crews were being
decimated partially by Soviet Conventional munitions but chiefly it was the
Chemical Weapons that followed the Heavy Explosive strikes. The new holes and
impact damage was exploited by the Chemical Blood and Nerve agents which seemed
to hug the ground in the Freezing cold atmosphere.
As he looked up, he did a quick instrument check, altered
his course by 2 degrees and settled in for the 20 minute flight to the FARP. He
had eight Helicopters left of sixteen, just eight.....
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