Warriors by Barrett Tillman Read Online Free PDF

Ha'Avir never had owned Crusaders. None of the Israeli pilots had flown the Voughts and there was no maintenance or logistic support in place to keep them operational.
           Bennett summed up the situation in a sentence. "If they need F-8s that bad, they're really on the ropes."
     
     
     

     
    DAY TEN
     
    Sinai
     
           At dawn on 15 October, jets bearing the blue Star of David lifted off their runways. With the new electronic countermeasures (ECM) gear, the Mirages, Phantoms, and Skyhawks had gained a large measure of protection from Arab tracking and fire-control radars, and the results showed. Daily aircraft losses had dropped to two or three-well within limits. But not even massive American replenishment could offset the staggering losses of the first week.
           Lieutenant David Ran was as well aware of the shortage as anyone. He had seen squadron mates die and he knew how the ground crews slaved to keep remaining aircraft in commission. He' was tired-tired in his bones-but he surprised himself with an unsuspected reservoir of stamina. A brief meeting with his diplomat brother Avrim told the story.
           "Papa, you would hardly know David anymore," Avrim had told their father. "He's changed so much since I last saw him. There's still that shyness about him but he's also, well, so confident. I think he's learned a lot about himself these recent days. You know he's now a flight leader? Amazing." Avrim paused, uncertain whether he should tell his father what else had appeared in David's personality. Well, a parent is entitled to know. "Papa, there's something more. The war. I think he likes it."
           David had been promoted to section leader, and while he did not like the war he found that he savored combat. It was a distinction that only warriors could understand.
           Concentrating on the mission at hand, he frankly relished the prospects. Egyptian armored columns thrusting for Mitla Pass had outrun the coverage of their fixed SA-2 and SA-3 missile batteries. Now the narrow bridgehead afforded Israeli pilots a densely packed hunting ground.
           Flying number three in the four-plane flight, Ran kept impeccable formation on his leader. The A-4s approached the target area at 300 knots and Ran checked his armament switches, then adjusted the rheostat of his gunsight. He had developed a passion for tankbusting and had told a former flight school classmate, "It's the most fun you can have in an airplane."
           More fun was at hand. The Skyhawks broke up to approach the enemy armored column, two each from different directions. Anti-tank helicopters hovered nearby, awaiting the cover of the jet attack to make their own move against the Soviet-built T-54s and T-62s. With other aircraft dedicated to chaff and flare dispensing, and still more conducting standoff jamming of the higher radar frequencies, the mission was a complex endeavor. But recent experience showed that it worked most of the time.
           From 8,000 feet Ran led his wingman down on the low-slung silhouettes of Egyptian tanks. As usual, the sky erupted with flak bursts, missile plumes, chaff, and flares. Ran went for a circle of T-62s, jinking only slightly during his run. He felt bulletproof.
           Tanks are built to engage their own kind, and therefore are most heavily armored on the front and sides. They are most vulnerable from above and behind, and Ran took advantage of that fact. He arced around for a favorable angle on several of the forty-ton monsters and initiated a fifteen-degree dive. Waiting until his slant range was less than 2,000 feet, he placed the pipper of his gunsight reticle on the hull of the nearest T-62 and barely stroked the trigger.
           Eight 30mm shells left the muzzles of his twin DEF A cannon, and six hit the target. They penetrated the 11/4-inch armor covering the top of the Egyptian tank and destroyed it.
           Ran instantly jockeyed