Behind enemy lines and back

Sweat beads glistened on his nose-tip as he climbed into the cockpit. He tried to remain composed but random thoughts crossed his mind. Just then the earphone crackled…

“Trims neutral, brakes okay, all systems go from telemetry” declared a nonchalant voice.

“Confirm, monitored” he replied trying hard to conceal his deep breaths.

He took off at full throttle, pulling the stick and was airborne within seconds. He enjoyed every moment of it till yesterday. But today was no routine sortie; he had not experienced real combat before. He was flying in arrow-head formation with him as the left wingman of his lead. He was the youngest of the three. They would be in enemy territory within 6 minutes. His lead would drop two laser-guided bombs and destroy a bridge. Once done they would return to base and if all goes well, they would be back in 15 minutes. Sounds easy during briefing but the real time scenario sends a chill down your spine.

5 minutes into the flight and he thought about his parents, his girlfriend. She had called last night. He tried to be normal, cracking jokes as usual, trying to tease her every now and then. She kept quiet for a moment and then inquired. He always got amazed at how she could well understand those unspoken words and decode the unnecessary bursts of laughter that he used to camouflage his thoughts. Usually he gave in, but he could not do that yesterday and somehow had managed to escape. At least that’s what he thought.

His earphone crackled. His lead informed that they were just entering enemy territory. He focused on the mission again, looking at the screen in front, confident that nothing would evade his newly fitted radar system. Everything below seemed normal which was in a way incongruous. The bridge was within sight. His lead informed him, went ahead and climbed. He saw him release the bombs which hit the target with precision. No sooner did this happen than he picked up something on his radar. Three jets were coming towards them from the east. He informed his lead of the situation and was instantly ordered to engage at will. After dropping his fuel tanks he broke away from the formation and just then saw a missile hurling towards his partner (the third friendly pilot). It was from a surface-to-air missile (SAM) launcher on the ground. His partner tried hard negotiating with it, trying all the escape maneuvers but in vain. He saw his partner go down in flames. No time for emotions, he focused on the job at hand.

His lead was taking two of them, he was chased by one. The first ever dogfight of his life had just begun. At his current height, he was an easy prey to SAMs. He climbed and pulled away. The enemy jet was slightly below him but was coming close really fast. He tried maneuvering to avoid a lock but only for a while. His radar picked up an infrared missile hurling towards him at Mach 1.5. His heart was in his mouth for the first time as he considered his counter-measures….there was one. He deployed flares, took a sharp left and reduced the engine power while praying hard so that the missile fell for the decoy. It did.

Relieved at his survival, he thought of his next step. The enemy aircraft was again trying to find a lock and was fast catching up. Barrel-rolling came to his mind. In this move you pull your stick to climb, roll once and come back to your original line of flight while maintaining your speed, thus covering more distance and if the enemy aircraft does not reduce its speed, he is sure to go ahead of you. Things happened according to plan and he was in a firing position. His first missile missed the target but the second one had found the enemy’s red-hot engine. The first kill of his life. He brimmed with confidence and contacted his lead. There was no response. He tried again but in vain. He picked up another jet on his radar, probably the one who shot down his lead. This time he went towards it with full after-burner, trying hard not to let it escape.

The enemy aircraft was returning, probably satisfied with his kill and never expected to be chased in his own territory. He fired one missile but it caught the enemy aircraft’s flares. His enemy climbed and kept climbing. He smiled at the pilot’s poor knowledge of his jet’s capabilities. He too climbed behind him. After a while, the enemy aircraft stalled and lost height. This was his chance as he found a lock on his enemy. Damn, all three of his missiles were gone. He mentally smacked his forehead for losing this opportunity. He was right behind the enemy aircraft, well within firing range, having an easy lock on the opponent but he ran out of his resources. The next moment he remembered something. The weapon that he never used during a sortie. How could it ever elude him? He advanced with full afterburner, speed nearly Mach 2. He could see the aircraft’s big engine in front. He had forgotten previously that he had 150 rounds of ammunition. He pulled the trigger for 3 seconds and most of the bullets hit the rear of the jet. It went rolling down. He was so close, he could see the pilot eject.

Happy with two kills on his first day, one of which is the coveted gun-kill, he started returning to base. Two minutes into it and there was an alarm. Two dogfights with frequent use of afterburners had drained him. He would never be able to leave enemy territory with his current speed and leftover fuel. He calculated hard. Finally, he took a decision that went on to save him from becoming a POW. He went for a full afterburner which resulted in rapid fuel consumption but let him cruise at Mach 2.

A minute later, he was totally dry. Ejecting behind enemy lines is a nightmare for any fighter pilot. If his calculation was right he will just make it. He leaned forward and pulled the lever under his seat for ejection. Out of nowhere three straps emerged…each plastering him firmly to his seat. The canopy blew away and he was out of the flying coffin within 0.1 seconds. The chute opened and he sailed it towards his own country. He suffered injuries due to the high altitude ejection which he chose to save himself. Drenched in sweat and  energy fully drained, his vision blurred as he went further down. When he hit the ground, he was already unconscious.

A beautiful face hovered over him that blanketed the light above. The face was anxious and had tiny droplets on its cheek. He could not relate to the present scenario. He looked around; there were few people….some lying in bed and some roaming in blue aprons. He realized he was in a hospital. He was unconscious for 20 hours but in safe hands. He looked at the kind face again and then it registered. It was his girlfriend.