That was a meat grinder for both sides, I heard a Stalingrad in the Pacific Northwest. and ultimately planned to go down the West Coast. Just how nasty was Vancouver? I've read that when Ivan couldn't get into Montana and the Dakotas when they were stopped at the border, the Russians tried a push down into B.C. Well when the balloon went up I was in the 1St Cav Div Running a tank repear shop with in 2 mo's I was wearing Warrent 1 bars and By the end of the War I was wearing W-4. (Would have been killed in the Soviet Nuclear Onslaught) I woke up to the Canadians retaking the building a day later. There was so much blood on me I guess all the Soviets thought I was dead. but the artillery had weakened the roof so much that it fell onto my helmet and knocked me out. As a Medic I dropped the bottle in my bag after closing it and ran to help some of my mates who were hit by a hand grenade. I had barely wet my tongue when the soviets attacked the department store we were holding. I was stuck in the ruins of Vancouver, drinking a bit of salvaged rum from a store. I remember my birthday one year into the war. And people in France and Germany wonder why there's still a lot of bad blood postwar, even today? And I found out that a farm family that had helped me and my backseater get to the resistance was executed for helping us. Unfortunately, a lot of 'em didn't: either KIA, captured and murdered by the Soviets and their Cuban lackeys, or civilians, victims of those murderous reprisals Ivan's and Fidel's people were so fond of. Whenever I fly over that part of Colorado, I think of the folks, guerillas and civilians, who risked their lives to help us get back to friendly lines and then back in the air. When the war ended in 1989, I was a Major and in command of the squadron, still flying F-4s. Did mostly air-to-ground stuff, but didn't mind lopping off the occasional MiG, Sukhoi, or helicopter that came my way (ended the war with 12 kills).
Some refresher training at Nellis and I was soon back in the air-as a Captain. One of the Marines stayed behind to advise the group, but the rest of us got back to our squadrons. When May came around, and the snow in the high country melted, the guerillas sent us across the Rockies with a few members as guides, until we got to Sallida, where the Army's 7th Infantry Division was HQ'd. We had to go on some raids and ambushes with them, and the three Marines in the bunch had to help us AF and Navy types with the basics of infantry combat. Our squadron (335th TFS) had gone from Seymour-Johnson AFB in North Carolina to Nellis AFB for a Red Flag, and we hadn't been there more than two days when the balloon went up! We flew out of Nellis down to Williams AFB in Arizona, (east of Phoenix), and flew nonstop combat for the next six months, though I missed the last three, as I was shot down in Southern Colorado at the beginning of December '85, and spent five months on the ground with a few other downed pilots and aircrew who were being helped by a Resistance group. I was a brand-new USAF F-4E pilot, just happy to have made 1st Lt. With Resistance Day having come and gone, just what did all of you out there do during the war, for those of you who were around from 1985-89? (OOC: this is a spinoff of the Red Dawn Resistance Day thread)
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