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The second missile had disappeared, too. The motor had burned out and the<br />
damn thing had shot up above somewhere and was now dropping down on me like<br />
a malignant spear. The Triple-A pits around the river had also opened up, since I<br />
was well below 10,000 feet and in range. The Iraqis were using a sound tactic. Fire<br />
the SAMs and get a fighter to defend itself until it was low enough to be engaged<br />
by the guns. It worked, too.<br />
Eight . . .<br />
Almost . . . almost . . .<br />
Now!<br />
Pulling back hard to the right, I began a huge, deep roll shaped like a barrel. A<br />
barrel roll was wide, fast, and powerful. The idea was to give the missile too many<br />
changing variables to overcome in the limited flight time it had left. If you could<br />
force a SAM to overshoot, you’d won, as it couldn’t maneuver and come back like<br />
a fighter jet.<br />
Pulling up, I smoothly brought the F-16 over on its back, but instead of rolling<br />
out I let the nose continue to fall down past the horizon, toward the smoky earth.<br />
Soon I was lying completely upside down along the horizon. It wasn’t a high-G<br />
maneuver nor was it particularly violent. The idea was to get through the horizon<br />
inverted, pull the power to slow down, and then roll your way back to your starting<br />
point. Graceful and powerful, it played hell with older radar-tracking systems. Too<br />
many oblique angular corrections, and it would run the missile out of airspeed. It<br />
was effective against the SA-2 and SA-3. It didn’t work at all against the newer SA-<br />
6 and SA-8.<br />
And usually you could only get away with it once. The second SAM, or other<br />
types of missiles and Triple-A, would catch you by then.<br />
And that’s exactly what happened.<br />
The city slowly spun upright as I came through the bottom of the roll. Blending<br />
in a smooth pull, the nose came up, and I was slowly and heavily pressed against<br />
the seat. Every four to five seconds, I smacked the chaff button; my head<br />
constantly swiveled, looking for other threats. The Triple-A had disappeared behind<br />
me for the moment, and I knew the first SAM must’ve overshot. Too much time<br />
had elapsed. Stealing a quick look at the HUD, I saw the target was behind me and<br />
about six miles away to the northeast.<br />
At 550 knots, I zoomed up through the horizon and reversed to come back<br />
around toward the target. As I did, my eye caught a flicker of movement.<br />
Instinctively, I pulled straight up, rolled, and slapped the chaff button.<br />
It saved my life.
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