Tainted Cigar: VF-41

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: VF-41 Black Aces aboard the Indepence

Four Phantoms F-4B stand ready on the catapult. We are tasked with providing escort for Memphis flight, four skyhawks send out to bomb missile sites on the Cuban main land.

With a short interval we are all shot of the deck of the Independence.

The four of us form up near the carrier and head for Cuba.

We are soon joined by the Skyhawks, each carrying a pair of Mk-82 bombs.

Contact! The WSO spots several bogies racing towards us. I drop the external fuel tanks and order the rest of the flight to do the same.

The Cuban MIG's are too close and at first I overshoot my target. I make a hard turn away from the MIG's, creating some distance for my sparrows.

When I line up again, I get a fire signal for the sparrow. The missile leaps from underneath my aircraft, races towards the MIG who tries to evade the missile in vain. Splash one.

Below the Skyhawks start their bomb run on the missile site.

While the Skyhawks bomb the site, a wild dogfight has erupted above their heads as more and more Cuaban Migs race towards the site. But we are waiting for them.

It's like a turkey shoot, the Cubans don't have missiles, so they have to get within gun range. But with our radar guided missiles we can shoot them one by one out of the sky.

I fire sparrow after sparrow. These Mig pilots must be real suicidal.

The sky is filled with burning Migs plummeting towards the ground.

Finally the calls comes that the Skyhawks have dropped their bombs and are heading home. It's time for us to bug out too.

A flight of Banshees arrive to cover our retreat.

They mop up the remaining Cuban aircraft in the area.

The return flight is uneventfull. The Cubans are getting pummeled. I am the first to land at the carrier, with the rest of the wing hot on my tail.

The mission was a success. I bagged three Migs. Nevertheless we lost 2 skyhawks. One to ground fire and one to a Mig who managed to sneak past us. It proves that despite the resounding success in the dogfight, the Cubans won't go down without a fight.

The End

Tainted Cigar: VMF-235

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: VMF-235 aboard the USS Coral Sea CV-43

One by one our four F-8E roll up to the catapult. Each one of us is carrying a full load of bombs and missiles. We don't carry defensive weapons like sidewinders, so if we encounter any air oppositions we will have to flee out of dodge city.

I am pushed back into my seat as the catapult hurls my aircraft over the deck.

I circle around the carrier, waiting for the other F-8's to join up.

Together we head for the Cuban main-land.

Below us a couple of F-4's are skimming the waves, also heading for Cuba. These fighters will take care of any aircraft the Cubans launch.

Our target is a is an encampment where the Soviets have stored some missiles. We don't know yet whether these missiles can carry a nuclear war-head and whether they are ready to be fired. But it is our job to destroy the camp.

As we reach the target are, I push my fighter into full afterburner, climbing some extra feet for my dive onto the target.

The Cubans and Soviets did not expect us, because there is no anti-aircraft fire as we dive towards the target. I release a ripple of bombs, drawing a line of explosions on the ground.

As I pull up, the enemy camp is billowed in smoke from all the bombs our flight dropped onto them.

I turn the fighter around, this time I will use my zuni-missiles to pepper the target.

I pull the trigger and the missiles speed away. The clouds above and around the camp make it hard to spot any target. The defenders must be awoken because the first puffs of black smoke appear in the sky.

I make one final pass, dropping my last bombs when tracer fire whizzes past my cockpit. The gunners below are now definitely awake. It's time to head for home.

As we cross the coastline again, another flight of F-4's awaits us. It's good to know that our fighters are ready to protect us.

Finally we arrive above the Coral Sea again and are quickly cleared to land.

I call the ball and brings the F-8 down to the flight deck, grabbing the third wire.

The cable stops my plane abruptly. The deck crew signals me to taxi free of the landing deck. We might have fired the first shots but I know for sure we will fly many more missions over Cuba. Until that bearded dictator is chased away and those pesky Soviets learned that American democracy won't let itself to be bullied.

The End