Viper Pilot_ A Memoi..

intentions.”
Say intentions How about London or Madrid
“ROMAN 75 is diverting to Ali al-Salem.” Apparently, the only place to land in
friendly territory on this side of the planet.
“Roger that . . . Salem weather is three-quarters of a mile, blowing dust, wind is
two-four-zero at twenty knots gusting to thirty.”
“ROMAN copies all.” I switched steerpoints and checked us a little right. Ali
was about 110 miles from my present position, so I eased the throttle back to slow
down while I studied the approach.
Approach What approach I thumbed through the book again. Nothing.
Checking the four-letter airfield identifier, I looked again.
Nothing.
So, there was no published instrument-approach to the only field in this
hemisphere where I could land. If the weather was better, day or night, we could
simply fly in and land using eyes instead of instruments. But the weather sucked.
My luck was holding.
Nor could we divert anywhere the weather was better, because that meant Iran.
In any event, all this crap was moving that way anyway. Three-quarters of a mile. I
figured we had less than an hour before Ali went down, too.
“ROMAN Two, go to two-mile trail and call tied. Descent check.”
I scribbled down the Ali tower frequency from the Divert card and ran my
fingers quickly over the switches. Since my wingman and I both had enough fuel,
there was only one option. I’d fly us down to the end of the runway using GPS
guidance and take a MARK point, a precise latitude and longitude for whatever
piece of ground I chose. It could then be coupled with the aircraft’s Instrument
Landing System and would generate horizontal and vertical steering to that point on
the ground.
There were problems with this. Each jet’s system accuracy was a little different,
so when I passed the point to my wingman, it would vary to a small degree.
Normally, this was acceptable, but normally we weren’t a few hundred feet above
the ground, at night, in a sandstorm, trying to land from the information. Real
instrument approaches use highly tuned, ground-based systems and painstakingly
certified procedures. But aside from ejecting, we didn’t have a choice.
“ROMAN Two is tied.”
I saw the F-16 spike on my Radar Warning Display signifying that my wingman
had fallen back several miles and locked me with his radar. This was the safest and
most accurate way to bring a wingman down through the weather. His radar would