Jet Combat in the Nuclear Age by Martin W. Bowman

Jet Combat in the Nuclear Age by Martin W. Bowman

Author:Martin W. Bowman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Skyhorse Publishing
Published: 2016-01-15T00:00:00+00:00


What occurs when a Mirage is hit by a Sidewinder AAM.

Grupo 6 de Caza Dagger A’s at San Julián in late April. C-404 of II° Escuadron Aeromovil, the nearest aircraft (inset), one of nine Argentine aircraft lost in action on 21 May was brought down by an AIM-9L fired by Lieutenant Stevie Thomas of 801 Squadron piloting FRS.1 ZA190. Mayor Gustavo Piuma Justo ejected. Thomas then shot down Dagger C-403 flown by Capitán Guillermo Donadille, who ejected before the aircraft crashed close to Piuma’s Dagger off Green Hill Bridge. Lieutenant Commander ‘Sharkey’ Ward destroyed Dagger C-407 flown by Primer Teniente Jorge D. Senn (who ejected successfully).

Keep jinking; never be predictable, fly as low as you possibly can.

‘Inspection of the gunsight film later in the day showed that we were all flying at a height of between five and fifteen feet as we approached the target!

‘I became aware that a number of Argentine soldiers were firing down at me from the sand dunes on the northern edge of the airfield, their bullets kicking up the water all around me. I raised the guns safety catch on the side of the stick and squeezed the trigger hard, expecting to hear the roar of the 30mm cannon and see the eruptions of smoke and flame amongst the enemy on the near horizon. But the guns would not fire! I thought that they must have jammed but realised later that in the heat of the moment I had failed to select the gun master switches on; a salutary lesson!

‘As I crossed over the beach, I yanked back on the stick, flattening the defenders on the dunes with my jet wash and levelled at one hundred and fifty feet, the minimum height required for my cluster bombs to fuse properly. In slow motion, I took in the damage caused by the rest of the formation, the airport buildings were billowing smoke and a number of aircraft were lolling at drunken angles, obviously badly damaged. The fuel dump to my right was a storm of orange flame, under a gathering pall of oily black smoke and huge lumps of debris were still falling from the sky from the explosions of the 1,000lb bombs. The dust cloud from Andy’s cluster bombs was drifting slowly away to the east, although I was not aware of his aircraft at all. One aircraft, which seemed undamaged, was a small civilian Britten-Norman Islander. I quickly lined up my bombsight raised the safety catch and mashed the release button, dispatching my three cluster bombs. The first bomb separated from the port, outboard wing pylon and after a short safety delay, blew off two sections of skin to expose the one hundred and forty seven bomblets. These were, in turn, ejected to form a cloud of death, which rolled over the airfield. One third of a second after the first weapon had dropped, I felt the thump as the second bomb left the centreline pylon mounted under the fuselage and fell away towards the target.



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