The 156th Tactical Fighter Wing soon received new pilots and planes, enough to form a second flight. Yellow Squadron's 'B' Flight consisted entirely of the new replacements from training squadrons, and were assigned to the defence of San Salvacion when the Allied Forces attacked the city state and liberated it from the Erusean forces. Many of these new pilots, who lacked experience in combat, were easy prey for the battle-hardened ISAF Air Force. Meanwhile, the 'A' Flight were assigned to escort escaping transport planes from the area.
"Our squadron was formed for long range air superiority missions, not escort. It would have made more sense to assign the 'B' flight on the escort and for us to maintain air superiority over San Salvacion but instead, more rookies were killed because of Command's decisions." Raccoon shook his head.
Due to the capture of San Salvacion and the Yellow Squadon's base, the surviving members were stationed at Cape Rainy in Northern Erusea. The ISAF were able to obtain most of their supplies, including vital repairs for the aircraft engines that kept the 156th grounded while the ISAF attacked and broke through the last Erusean defensive line at Whiskey Corridor.
"Even when a supply chain was established, we didn't get the parts we needed. Our planes weren't the only things in bad shape, three of us had been with the Squadron since day one, Thirteen, Seven and me. To say we were in as bad a shape as our planes would be a pretty accurate statement. And we weren't the only ones either, a bomber squadron were based at Cape Rainy too. Erusean Bomber Command had taken more hits than our fighters, without adequate escort they had suffered unbelievable losses. When they got into their planes for their attack against the advancing ISAF forces, I saw the looks on their faces. None of them expected to return that day, and none of them did."
Erusean losses had far outweighed those of ISAF. Many diaries and records recovered from Erusean soldiers dug in at the capital of Farbanti showed that although many expected to lose the war and believed it impossible to win, they were all willing to fight to the last man in defence of their nation. The cause of the war was irrelevant to them at that point, they all had a reason to fight.
"Going into the final battle for Farbanti, we were all exhausted and tired of the war. Our planes sat in the hangers, armed and waiting to go on the inevitable call to scramble to the capital. While in the past we would entertain ourselves in the crew room with music and card games, we all sat in silence for almost a month while the ISAF prepared themselves. We didn't even have enough planes to organise a strike mission against them."
"When the call came, what was the general feeling?" I asked.
Raccoon was quiet for a moment. "It was a relief I think to most of us. Several weeks of waiting around had even driven Thirteen crazy. There was no pep talk, no light hearted quip, we just ran to our planes and took off. Even our AWACS, who was prone to making jokes, was quiet."
By the time the Yellow Squadron would arrive at Farbanti, the Erusean capital would be almost overrun by ISAF armoured divisions and their supporting infantry. The reinforcing tank battalion due to arrive to support the Erusean defenders was cut off when the Johnson Memorial Bridge was destroyed by Allied aircraft, the bridge has not yet been repaired and it's remaining structure still stands in ruin today. The destruction of the Memorial Bridge was heavily criticised by the Eruseans but their complaints have fallen on deaf ears from the international community.
"When we arrived the battle was in full swing. Fighting raged across the entire capital, I remember seeing one of our fighters chasing down ISAF planes in between the skyscrapers of the sunken city. As we came closer, several ISAF fighters turned towards us, our AWACS confirmed that the Mobius Squadron was among them."
"Did that discourage you at all?"
"No. If anything, it made us more determined to fight. Mobius had a debt to pay so we dived in fangs out and no turning back." He looked to the ceiling, leant back in his chair. "I imagine from the ground it looked like the most intense battle the skies had seen that war. Both sides were evenly matched, they had the numbers but we were fighting for our country. We shot down several ISAF planes, then our first loss was Yellow Seven. He failed to eject."
"With a plane down we split into two-plane elements but we took the second hit. It was my wingman Yellow Ten, I remember looking just as his plane exploded next to mine. One minute he was there next to me about to bank away and the next, fragments rained down like flares. There was no way he could have survived...the only good thought I had was that it was quick for him. It wasn't for Eighteen, her cockpit was hit by cannon fire and she crashed into the ocean. Then it was just me and Thirteen himself."
"The missile that hit Ten had also sent shrapnel into my engine, my number one was struggling. It made me an easy target, I had several bandits on my six who just wouldn't give me a second's break. I took a few cannon rounds, then a missile exploded underneath me. For a second I thought I could control it but then the cockpit just burst into flames. I barely managed to reach down and pull the handle to punch out before my plane just disintegrated."
I remember seeing Raccoon's burnt hands earlier. Everyone had previously assumed all the Yellows had been killed during the assault on Farbanti, I wondered how Raccoon's parachute had gone undetected.
"Everyone's eyes, mine included, were fixed on the scene above." He answered. "To this day, I have not seen such a masterclass in air combat manoeuvring. The ISAF planes backed off, leaving a lone F-22 to face Thirteen and I thought to myself, that must be the legendary Mobius One that everyone was raving about."
"Both of them put their planes through twists and turns, hitting g-levels I didn't think possible. Neither of them could get into position to fire a missile, one minute Thirteen was chasing Mobius One and the next, he was jinking to avoid gunfire. I forgot all about the war, and the fact I'd just been shot down, my eyes could barely keep up with the dance."
"Thirteen must have known he would be shot down, even if he did beat Mobius One?"
Raccoon nodded. "I don't think he cared. He'd finally met the one pilot he thought would be a worthy adversary and my God he was right. If there was one pilot who could beat Thirteen in a dogfight, it was Mobius One. Thirteen managed to land a few hits and my heart jumped. I thought for a second that maybe, just maybe, Thirteen could win this. But when he pulled a sudden sharp turn he must have blacked out for half a second and it proved fatal. Mobius One shredded his wing and Thirteen just fell out of the sky."
I frowned. "Did he not eject?" My question was met with a small smile as Raccoon leaned forward.
"As his jet passed me, his canopy opened." He explained. "I expected him to bail but instead, I saw a white handkerchief flutter out and to the ground below just before he crashed. I never found the handkerchief, but I know it used to belong to Four."
After Thirteen was shot down and the Erusean GHQ was overrun, the Allied Forces called for the Erusean surrender. Raccoon explained to me that he was able to blend in with the rest of the Erusean forces by removing his squadron patches and posing as a regular FEAF pilot. After the war, he joined the Erusean Air and Space Administration and became one of their chief test pilots. Rumour has it the EASA is developing an advanced version of the experimental X-02 using Belkan aerospace technology but understandably, he was unable to confirm any details.
Before I thank Raccoon for his time, he shows me to a cabinet in which he has a fine collection of hard-to-find bottles. I spy an Ustian Chateau Boloise, and a bottle of single malt Emmerian whiskey. This is the one he picks out. "Every year on the anniversary of the end of the war, I drink a toast." He explains as he fills two glasses. "I toast the Yellow Squadron, and the other Erusean pilots who died for our country. I toast the brave Vapour Squadron, who fought a rearguard to save their allies. And although they were responsible for the deaths of my wingmen, I toast the Mobius Squadron for bringing about the swift end to the war."
War will always be full of lost, forgotten or hidden stories. Often the victors will choose which stories to publish, and which stories will fade into the background. My journey through the Belkan War and now with the Yellows has taught me to appreciate both sides of the coin and has allowed me to uncover many of these hidden stories. However, there are still secrets that we'll never truly understand. Who was the Demon Lord of Ustio? What did Harmonica say in his letter to Mobius One? Was the Mobius Squadron really just one pilot? And who was Yellow Thirteen, a man who lived only to fight a worthy opponent?
I may never know the answers to these questions. But thanks to Yellow Nine, the world may finally understand what it was like to be in Erusea's ace squadron during Usea's Continental War. And that, at least, was the story I was looking for.
A Note from the Author
And that concludes the first story I've written since 2007. I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Again, another shout out to Doccy and Karaya for taking their time to proof read and suggest improvements!
Also a massive thank you to those who reviewed! There were some reviewers that I couldn't PM for some reason but know that I read and appreciated the time you took to give some feedback. Was there something here you especially liked? Let me know! Was there something you think I could improve on? Tell me how!
Until next time, ciao!
Silver Winged Duck