The Cuban crisis has gone bad. The soviets under leadership of Nikita Krushchev did not back down, despite the US naval blockade. When all diplomacy fails, President Kennedy is left but one option: Destroy the soviet missiles on Cuba. Ousting the Cuban leader Fidel Castro will be a nice side-effect. 
Squadron: 511th FBS flying F-100D's from Homestead AFB
Fighters and bombers all over Florida are preparing to strike at Cuba and the 511th is also ready to do its share. We are tasked to attack a SS-4 launcher near Sagua La Grande.
We are all eager to take to the sky and to take the fight to Fidel and Kruschev.
We form up above the sea and head for Sagua La Grande.
A flight of F-8's escorts us as we make our run for the island.
As we cross the coastline, we suddenly get some unfriendly company.
To my horror, one of my pilots screams he has to bail out, the Mig's bagged their first kill.
Below is the target, which need to be destroyed before the Soviets launch a nuclear attack against the mainland.
The F-8's come to our rescue, but without radar guided missiles they have to move in pretty close to score a sidewinder-kill.
In a steep dive, I drop down on the Cuban site, quickly dropping my first pair of bombs.
My bombs fall close the launcher, but fail to damage it. Strangely all the Mig's have disappeared.
Clouds of black smoke around my plane, tell me why. The Cuban anti-aircraft artillery has entered the fray.
I make a second bomb run, but this time my bombs fall too far from the target.
In a stupid move I make a hard turn towards the target and make a strafe run.
Incredibly my stunt works, despite the fact that the missile is an extremely narrow target, I manage to hit its fuel tanks, set the missile and the surrounding vehicles ablaze.
It's time to head for home. Ignoring the original mission plan, which called for a high altitude escape, I decide to fly low and fast over the Cuban countryside.
Flying low and fast, I notice an enemy radar station in front of me. With my latest strafing success in mind I decide to treat the radar station the same lead shower. But the radar station is closely protected by AA-guns which promptly open fire on. Their shells pierce through my plane, igniting fuel and munitions tanks. In a blinding flash my aircraft explodes and the mangle pieces fall to the ground.
In an odd twist of fate, the burning wreckage tumbles straight onto the radar, destroying it in the process. But unfortunately President Kennedy will have to write one more letter to a grieving widow. The End
