Viper Pilot_ A Memoi..

WARDOG, and DERBY. I jotted it all down on my kneeboard by flight, fuel, and
position. The flight low on fuel would be the lowest in the stack and first in to land
after my two-ship. I planned to drop off my wingman on short final and low
approach to come back around for any stragglers.
“MONTY flight, you are now ROMAN Three and Four . . . HEIST is Five and
Six. WARDOG you are ROMAN Seven and Eight and DERBY you’re Nine and
Ten. Acknowledge.”
They all checked in with their new call signs. It was easier to keep things
straight this way, and established one flight lead—me.
“ROMAN Three flight proceed to Customs House and hold at 21,000. ROMAN
Five hold at 22,000, ROMAN Seven at 23K, and ROMAN Nine at 24,000. All
ROMANS depart your current positions at assigned altitudes, standard east-west
holding pattern at 250 knots.”
They all acknowledged. Holding in line with the wind would simplify things, and
all the flights now had different altitude, so they wouldn’t be a conflict to each
other. I’d also stacked them up from the bottom, low flight with the lowest fuel, in
the order they’d descend to the base. This way, they’d just peel off like layers from
an onion and not fly through each other’s altitude blocks.
“ROMAN Two you’re cleared to hold at 20K . . . One is dropping down to get
the mark point for our approach. All ROMANs stand by.”
THE IMMEDIATE PROBLEM WAS TO DESCEND THROUGH THIS shit and get an accurate
mark without killing myself. I pulled the power, popped open the speed brakes, and
slid down into the dark brown mess below me. Holding 250 knots, I dimmed the
lights and started a gentle right turn. With the steerpoint for Ali al-Salem set in the
HUD, I planned to align myself to the runway ten miles out and fly in to take the
mark.
The jet began to buffet when I passed 10,000 feet, as the winds near the surface
increased and shifted. Eyeballing my displays, I played the stick, throttle, and speed
brakes to roll out on a ten-mile final at 3,000 feet. Instrument approaches “stepped
down” an aircraft in altitudes based on terrain and obstructions like towers. There
was also a Minimum Safe Altitude (MSA) that would keep you clear of all dangers
within twenty-five miles of the field. Since Ali had no approach, I was using the
3,000-foot MSA for Kuwait International. Hope it worked. I switched the UHF
radio to Ali Tower and turned up the cockpit heat. Slowing to 200 knots, I lowered
the gear handle.