Chapter 4: The Instructor
Osan AFB, South Korea
The girls had landed at Osan AFB by evening, and parked their units in the hangar. An officer checked them in on the landing schedule, and walked them down towards their assigned barracks. Like the Bomber Witches before them, the girls were given their own separate building, away from the enlisted barracks. It wasn't so much a privilege, but more of an asylum, as Bomber Witches had taken on a different social status after World War 2. The world was ever changing, and many had come to view bombers as unnecessary arsonists - a tool of destruction, not peace. Whether or not enlisted men had this view was of no concern to the Strategic Air Command, as they preferred to avoid that iceberg altogether.
The officer opened the door to their room: a rather cramped bunkhouse attached to a head – or shower room – with a small office across from it. At the foot of each bed was a large trunk, where the girls were to keep their belongings.
"Welcome to your new home." The officer muttered sarcastically, before excusing himself.
The door shut, and all the bags simultaneously dropped to the floor. "Welcome to your new home." Shannon mocked.
"I bet this is your fault, anyways." Glenda snapped. "If you hadn't assumed command and been flaunting your heiress status, maybe we could've gotten a much nicer bunkhouse. After all, you're only a first lieutenant! You had no right to be in charge!"
"How dare you!" Shannon fumed. "I… I…"
"You don't have a rebuttal, do you?" Glenda asked crossly.
Shannon hung her head in disgrace, and plopped down onto her bunk. Meryl gave a disapproving stare to Glenda, as they started unpacking their bags.
After everything was in its place, they went to the mess hall for dinner, and returned to the humble abode. Jane had returned early, and upon opening the door they could hear slow guitar music. There was more than just a Walkman in Jane's possession, as they noticed a bulky, top-loading tape deck on her night stand. She was playing a song called 'My Sweet Lord,' by the ex-Beatle George Harrison. Jane was lying on her bunk, staring up at the ceiling and softly singing along.
"I didn't even know we could play music in here." Danielle prompted.
"Well, Jane is… different." Glenda explained. "To her, music is as essential to her daily routine as breathing air is to most people. Without it, she tends to get a little grumpy."
Soon they were interrupted, as a door on the other side of the bunkhouse opened. Eight people walked in: General Moore, Instructor Roberta Morgan, Hailey, Candice, Theresa, Holly, Denise, and one other girl.
"ATTEN-SHUN!" Moore shouted.
The girls scurried to the end of their bunks, lining up for inspection. Moore didn't seem to notice that Jane was still in her musical, trance-like state as he stepped forward to look at each of them. The heavy thumping of boots traversed the length of the bunkhouse, as his eyes scanned the room. He stopped in front of Jane. The tape had stopped, but she was still humming along, and Moore was not happy.
"Airman Nerger, could I borrow your attention for just a moment?" He asked, visibly annoyed.
Jane stopped humming, and paid attention, as Candice and Hailey joined the other girls at the end of their own bunks.
"Ladies," Moore began. "When my advisors picked you for this group, I had high hopes for all of you. You were recommended because you were top of your class, displaying exemplary performance that would impress such figures as Lt. Col Doolittle, and maybe even General Lemay himself. And that is why I must ask, why I got this after-action report from CTF 77, saying that you failed to protect the Saratoga from a Teki assault. If you are really the cream of the crop, I want to know just what happened out there?" He asked, unfolding a piece of paper from his chest pocket.
"Sir," Meryl began.
"…It was my fault." Shannon admitted. "I was full of myself and took command of a group I'd just met, without any authority to do so. If anyone is to be punished, it's me."
Moore was surprised, and almost looked relieved. Almost. "If it weren't for our situation, you would probably spend the night in the brig, perhaps even facing court martial and expulsion from the air force. But we need every plane, helicopter, and witch we've got for the upcoming operations, so I'm willing to pardon you for now. CB-1 USS Alaska and her sister ship CB-2 USS Guam just left the naval base in Subic Bay a few hours ago, and they'll be escorting the Luzon-class repair ship, USS Tutuila. She'll perform repairs on the jet fuel lines aboard Saratoga, but just know that we can't afford another mistake like this." Moore sighed deeply. "But enough from me, I'd like to introduce you to your new best friend. Instructor Morgan is a veteran of the 8th Joint Strike Force, and she will be your instructor. You are to follow her training to the letter. If she tells you 'jump,' I expect you to reply with 'how high?' If any of you act up, I'll come to visit you again. You don't want that. Now, good night ladies."
"Good night, sir!" The girls saluted, as Moore exited.
Roberta was now alone with the ten witches. She had once been in their position, young, proud, and rebellious. Now she was in her mid-40's, and not nearly as energetic as before. Yet her red head still glowed like fiery embers, matching her red air force dress. It wasn't standard issue, but she had retired at Lt. Col., and managed to pull a few strings.
"At ease girls." She said calmly, adjusting her glasses as everyone's shoulders relaxed a little. "I'm your instructor, Roberta Morgan."
"The Memphis Belle…!" Holly piped up.
"Well aren't you quite the bookworm?" Roberta smiled. "I noticed we have matching callsigns, 'Memphis Belle II.' I don't mind sharing the name, as long as you can live up to it." She winked.
"Is it really true, how you and your group took the battle of Berlin underground into the metro?" Danielle asked, wide-eyed.
"Yes, it is." Roberta replied.
"So, you're really the first bomber witch to have completed a tour of duty? That's incredible!" Glenda exclaimed.
"Why yes." Roberta answered.
"Did you really disobey your direct superior just to save your sister?" Theresa inquired.
"Ok girls, enough questions. I want you to each tell me your name, rank, and specifications, otherwise I may forget." Roberta said.
The brunette-haired girl stood at attention, her hair neatly tucked into a bun style with swept bangs, accentuating her brown eyes and blue dress. "Major Holly Jones, callsign 'Memphis Belle II.' My bomber unit is the Republic F-105D Thunderchief, and I'm equipped with a 7,62mm M60D machine gun, and I can carry up to 6,400kg of conventional ordnance. My special ability is 'Slingshot,' which allows me to drop a full load of munitions, pull a high-G turn, and depart the combat area at full speed, in the event of an emergency."
Denise stood at attention, her blonde hair neatly tied in a ponytail which contrasted her lovely blue eyes. "2nd Lt. Denise Eilers, callsign 'Spooky 21.' I'm a gunship witch, and I fly the Douglas AC-47 Spooky – a modification of the C-47 Skytrain. My armament includes a 7,62mm General Electric M134 minigun, which can put 2,000 rounds per minute down range. Her name's 'Puff the Magic Dragon,' since she spits fire from the skies. My special ability is called 'Starburst,' and it allows me to launch illumination flares that explode on contact with the ground."
Theresa's fluffy black hair bounced a little, as she realized she was next. Her brown eyes were sharp as that of a King Cobra, as she started her introduction. "Captain Theresa Bolstead, callsign 'Bad News.' My bomber unit is the Douglas A-1H Skyraider, and I'm equipped with a 20mm Hispano autocannon, plus up to 3,600kg of conventional ordnance. My special ability is 'All Guns Blazing,' which allows me a temporary boost in firepower density by means of disposable 7,62mm minigun pods under my wings."
Hailey towered over the other girls - even if just by a few inches - and her silvery-white hair ran down her shoulders, stopping just at her upper back. Her light grey eyes looked as if clouds were floating around in them, as she began speaking. "Airman 1st Class Hailey Confer, callsign 'Boiling Point.' My bomber unit is the Convair B-58 Hustler, and I am equipped with… radar. I'm actually an RB-58, the 'R' designating reconnaissance. I use the Hughes Aircraft AN/APQ-69 side looking radar, and the Goodyear AN/APS-73 synthetic aperture radar, both of which allow me to analyze geographic areas and project three-dimensional images of them for mission briefings. I can even store the data on my flight recorder, which can write it to a data tape. My only real offensive weapon besides my high speed is my ability to emit high frequency radar pulses. It's not always useful, but I can use it to overload electronic sensors, and cause a cascading self-destruct against smaller craft if they're at close range."
Next in line was the dark blue eyed, long purple haired girl, of Swiss origin. The girls across the room were staring at her – Candice's slender figure was only betrayed by her voluptuous bosom, and her well-toned hips. "Corporal Candice Drew, callsign 'Blue Diamond.' My bomber – well, more of a fighter unit – is the Hawker Hunter. I'm equipped with a 7.5mm MG 51 machine gun and 3,400kg of ordnance capacity. My special ability is 'Rauch,' which allows me a temporary increase in engine thrust, in combination with a combat smoke generator. If used correctly, I can blind a target or conceal a friendly force with titanium tetrachloride smoke screens."
Meryl was the second tallest girl in the room, next to Hailey. Her head was topped with a wavy mess of lavender hair, and her periwinkle eyes seemed to twinkle a little. "Master Sergeant Meryl Erickson, callsign 'Magnesium Cloud.' My bomber unit is the Convair GRB-36D Peacemaker, and I'm equipped with a 20mm M24A1 autocannon, and I can carry up to 32,700kg of ordnance. By the way, the 'GR' in my unit name designates it as part of the FICON project: Fighter In CONvair. Basically, it means I can carry a small parasite RF-84K, which I can use for recon. My special weapon is the T-12 'Cloudmaker' bomb – similar to the Grand Slam bomb of WW2 – which can penetrate most bunkers and cause an underground earthquake."
The shortest girl in the room, Shannon stood at a mere 5'3", and wore her medium blonde hair in a ponytail. Her grey-blue eyes twinkled almost as much as Meryl's, but they were also filled with pride. "1st Lieutenant Shannon Fairchild, callsign 'Firefly.' My gunship unit is the Fairchild AU-23a Peacemaker…"
"Wait," Roberta stopped her. "You and Meryl are both Peacemakers?"
"The Fairchild AU-23a Peacemaker is a counter insurgency gunship unit, developed from the Pilatus PC-6 Porter. The Convair B-36 Peacemaker that Meryl uses is a heavy bomber." Shannon explained. "My weapon of choice is the 20mm XM-197 gatling gun, which is basically a three-barrel version of the M61 Vulcan. I can carry ordnance as well, but only up to 873kg. My special weapon is a tactical display, which assists in gun laying on small targets, like missiles. It's still very early concept and temperamental, so the battery doesn't last very long."
The temperamental Glenda had medium length black hair, and curly bangs much like 1950's hairstyles. Her eyes were an unnatural shade of crimson red, which most people found rather intimidating. "Captain Glenda Edwards, callsign 'Crux.' My bomber unit is the XB-42 Mixmaster, I'm equipped with a Browning M2 .50 caliber, and I can carry up to 3,600kg of ordnance. Also just putting this out there, my unit was the fastest piston-engine bomber in its class. But you've probably never heard of it, because it was just around the turn of the jet era, and the project didn't receive any more funding to get past prototype stage. The engineers tried to salvage the situation by creating another prototype: the XB-43 Jetmaster, but it just didn't make the cut. I got to keep the XB-42 as a sort of trophy, after making a new record for speed in transcontinental flight. In a race against my colleague, Lt. Col. Harriet Warden, from Long Beach, CA to Bolling AFB in Washington, D.C., I crossed the finish line in just a little over 5 hours. I won, of course, setting a speed record of 697.8 km/h at the fastest point. The only other bomber unit I've flown was the Northrop YB-49, but that's a story for another day. My special ability is 'No Bullets Fly,' which increases my magic shield area by 50%. It only lasts for a few minutes, and I can't use my guns while the ability is active."
"Your callsign is 'Crux?' How did you choose that?" Roberta asked.
"My bomber unit has a rare cruciform tail design, and it reminded me of the Southern Cross my mother always told me about. It was something I noticed when I was assigned to the unit, and it just kind of stuck."
Danielle waited patiently for Glenda to finish, ever so slightly tapping her foot. Her long brunette hair was tied in an elaborate French braid, and her crystal blue eyes seemed colder than the Arctic Ocean. "Captain Danielle Thomas of the Royal Air Force, callsign 'Spirit of Great Britain.' My bomber unit is the Avro Vulcan, number XH558, and I can carry up to 454kg of conventional bombs. My capacity is limited because of my special weapon, the 'Blue Steel' missile. It's a missile that can travel at speeds exceeding Mach 3, penetrating most air defense networks before detonating a high yield shockwave that can stall small planes and knock out early warning radar systems in a 350 meter radius."
Jane was still humming very softly when she realized it was her turn. Her long, dark brunette hair was tied in a side-ponytail, which seemed to wrap lazily around her waist. It matched her eyes, which were a reddish-brown color like spiced rum. "Senior Airman Jane Nerger, c/n 17187, callsign 'Calamity Jane.' My bomber unit is the new Boeing B-52D Stratofortress. I'm equipped with the Browning M3 .50 cal, which has a higher rate of fire over the M2, and I can carry around 24,500kg of ordnance. In addition, I can also carry AGM-28 Hound Dog cruise missiles, for silencing AA installations from long range."
"So why is your callsign 'Calamity Jane?'" Roberta asked.
"Well…" Jane squirmed a little. "During training missions on the B-36 Peacemaker in the '50's, I encountered severe engine trouble while conducting a simulated bombing run on San Francisco. Not long after departing Eielson AFB in Alaska, three of my ten engines were disabled by ice buildup in the carburetor air intake, leaving me with insufficient power for flight. As a result… I had to jettison the test weapon, which was a Mark IV nuclear bomb without its plutonium core, over the Inside Passage in southeastern Alaska. With the decrease in weight, I made it to Princess Royal Island in British Columbia, where I made a crash landing and was rescued almost seven hours later. The remains of the weapon were never found, making it the first lost nuclear weapon in US history. I'm not proud of that record, but I won't let that hinder me from improving."
"Well, looks like we have a great group here." Roberta concluded. "Wait, I'm sorry, I didn't even get to you yet." She said, making a nod to the last girl in the line.
"Who, me?" The girl replied.
"That's no way to respond to a Lt. Col." Shannon muttered.
"Neither is speaking without being spoken to." Roberta reprimanded Shannon, before returning her attention to the last girl. "As I recall, you're one of the Midway girls, correct?"
The Texan girl's black hair was tied up in a high ponytail, with her bangs swept to the side. She also wore large circular glasses which sat rather heavily in front of her sea foam green eyes. "Ensign Addison Murphy, callsign 'Yellow Rose.' My bomber unit is the Lockheed S-3A Viking, which is relatively new in the US Naval Air Force. My weapons include a 20mm Oerlikon autocannon, 2,267kg of ordnance, my AN/ASQ-81 magnetic anomaly detector, and my ability to deploy sonobuoys. Because I'm not a 'front-line' attacker, I tend to fly supporting role for other witches. My special weapon is the AGM-65 'Maverick' air-to-surface missile, which allows me to hit multiple targets of interest simultaneously. I can carry at least eight of them without hindering my aerial performance."
"You're not in any way related to Audie Murphy, are you?" Jane asked, somewhat out of the blue.
"He was my grandfather, yes… I don't know him that well, my parents kept me away from him, after his episodes of PTSD and drug addictions. I'm told he was a great hero, though." Addison admitted.
"Maybe we should get back on track..." Roberta smiled nervously. "I have to say, I'm surprised that some of you are without special abilities, but I guess that's just a sign of the times…"
"To be fair," Glenda interjected. "Most of these new-fangled jet units consume so much power, that their pilots never developed special abilities, and had to compensate with extra weapons. My case is a rare one, where I haven't spent enough time in the unit to develop a useful skill, at least not yet."
"I wouldn't be so harsh on yourself." Roberta smiled reassuringly. "Now, get to bed, all of you. We have a big day tomorrow."
"Good night Instructor Roberta!" The girls shouted, as they climbed into their bunks.
The next morning, at 0600 hours, the Reveille bugle went off. The brass music shattered peaceful dreams across the base, as the girls scrambled to make their beds and prepare for morning inspection.
"Ugh. Is it like this every morning? I'm never going to get any beauty sleep…" Shannon yawned.
"It could be worse. Better a bugle than an explosion." Glenda answered.
Shannon shot an angry glare at Glenda, just as Roberta walked in, dressed in uniform. Hailey was beside her, and she looked very worn out.
"Hailey, where have you been?" Candice wondered.
Hailey yawned. "I was out on night-time recon. For your mission."
"Mission?" The girls echoed in disbelief.
"That's right." Roberta replied. "My philosophy is that you learn most from hands-on work. So, I had Hailey gather intelligence data on your first mission."
Hailey stepped forward, projecting a 3D image of a mountain range in North Vietnam.
"This mountain range is the closest you will ever get to the infamous 'Thud Ridge.'" Roberta pointed out. "If you can successfully make an attack run through this range, without flaws, you'll be ready to join the big leagues, and run through the real 'Thud Ridge' into downtown Hanoi. If you can't make the run, you must try again tomorrow. Until you get this run down, I cannot allow you to proceed into Operation Linebacker, per General Lemay's orders."
"That's insane!" Shannon blurted out. "How could anyone make that run without smashing into the cliff?"
"Impossible." Jane muttered.
"That's one tight passage, isn't there any other way we can prove our worth to you?" Glenda asked.
"No, there isn't. This order comes from the top." Roberta admitted. "You have to do this, or we won't be part of Linebacker. However, I can tell you that it's not impossible. …How do I know that? Well… I'm going with you."
The room went silent for a solid minute, and the girls stared at Roberta as if she was insane.
"No offense ma'am, but you're nearly 40. Do you even have any magic energy left? I'm not putting you down, I'm just concerned for your safety." Holly worried.
"I appreciate that, but the best leaders lead by example, and you'd be surprised what this old fox can do." Roberta winked, flexing her arm. "Now, get some breakfast, and meet me in the hangar at 0800."