First Blood

About four years after the first F-15s entered service with the IAF, the first multi-role F-16s were welcomed into the ‘First Jet’ Squadron. A bar three months later – the F-16 squadron was operational. The question on the pilots’ minds was the one which has always troubled new squadrons: who would score the first victory?

Maj. Raz delivered the answer to that question on April 28th 1981. It was a time of heightened tensions with the Syrians, who had begun sending ground forces and helicopters to the Jebel Snin area. That morning, fresh reports came in about movement of Syrian transport helicoters into the area. The squadron commander and Maj. Raz – who was then a young and inexperienced Lieutenant – were on interception readiness duty.

Raz: “At 09:00 we suddenly heard an earsplitting siren wail. We ran like madmen to our planes, revved them up and took off. We flew over the sea at very low altitude, west of Beirut. When we were right over Beirut, we pulled upward to an altitude of 20,000 feet. The squadron commander experienced a radar malfunction, and I thus became the lead plane, since I was supplying all of the data. We passed real close to Riak airfield in the Lebanese Beka’a Valley. We flew a bit lower, and divided the work between us: the squadron commander was in charge of the communication with the control tower, and I relayed the data to him.

“My radar picked up a distant target. I locked onto it and we flew in its direction. I waited for permission to shoot down but it was slow in coming – I was finding it hard to maintain the missile lock. Then the lock disappeared. Now that there was no missile lock, no permission to shoot down and no permission to enter the area, we turned and headed towards a point to the south and west of Beirut. But then I picked up a target on the radar again.

“The target was moving 10 miles north of Riak airfield, towards Jebel Snin. At long last, we received permission to enter the area and permission to shoot down. We flew at low altitude, at Mach 0.9, in the target’s direction. I noticed that the lock wasn’t very stable. There wasn’t that much time left for thinking because we were nearing the minimum range for missile launch. I wasn’t sure that it was a good launch, but I launched anyways. It was the first time in my life that I’d seen a missile launched and it simply hypnotized me.

The missile left the plane on the left side with a whoosh, and I followed it with my glance. It veered downward, hit the ground and entered a small shack, and sent it up in the air. Later that day, the announcer on the news said that ‘our forces had fired rockets in the area’. Well – those so-called rockets were my misguided missile and nothing else.

“By now I could see the target clearly: a Syrian helicopter, though I still couldn’t identify the model. It later turned out to be an Mi-8. I passed over him, pulled at a very high speed and tried to prepare for a second missile launch. The squadron commander overtook me and I suddenly noticed he was using his cannon to strafe the helicopter. I hadn’t even thought of using the cannon until that point. The Syrian pilot executed a turn, meanwhile, and I saw the bursts of cannon fire shooting up the dirt just behind him.

“I was flying at 12,000 feet when the controller suddenly told us to break off contact and fly westward. I switched to cannon sights and went for the helicopter again, in a dive run. The controller intervened again and demanded we break off contact immediately. It turned out there was a group of unfriendly MiGs about 25 km. east of us. I told the controller ‘straight away’ and galloped in onto the chopper at a speed of 570 knots from west to east, and pulled up behind him. It was flying about 10 meters above the ground and I put my sights on his tail. I opened fire.

“I fired a long burst, at the end of which a giant flame burst from the helicopter, which fell to the ground and fell apart, billowing heavy smoke.

“The controller instructed us to disengage, again, and I informed him of the kill. I executed a very sharp turn westward – about an 8 G turn – and the squadron commander said on the radio: “very nice, Two”.

We ascended to higher altitude and flew homewards. We did a tight buzz over the base. Virtually the entire base was waiting for us on the ground. They’d been waiting for a victory for a long time. Everyone looked at the wing that had a missile missing and at the black soot that the cannon bursts had left behind. They lifted me up on their shoulders, stood around me in a circle and bombarded me with questions. It was a great occasion, no doubt about it. And let’s not forget, the unspoken rivalry with the F-15 also played a part in our pride.

“All things said, it’s a lot harder to shoot down a helicopter than a combat jet. Obviously, the risk posed by a chopper is lower, but your chances at scoring a hit consist of a series of short flyovers, and you always stand the risk of losing the target after completing the run.

“That same day, another Mi-8 was shot down by the squadron’s deputy commander. The following day, the Syrians advanced SAMs into the Beka’a – a move which was one of the factors that brought about the start of the Lebanon War. To this day, I still hear friends say jokingly that my victory is what caused the war to break out”.

Three months after Maj. Raz’s aerial victory, on July 14th 1981, Israeli F-16s encountered Syrian MiG-21s. It was Bastille Day – 14 years to the day since the Mirages’ first aerial victory, against a MiG-21 – and this time it was Col. A., flying an F-16, who shot down a MiG-21.

It started as a routine patrol mission over Lebanon.

Col. A.: “Our Skyhawks attacked that day, and the Syrians tried to interfere, like they always did. When the attacks were over, my fuel supply was depleted. I reported this to the controller and turned south, and the other formation continued the patrol.

“Over the Mediterranean, near Tyre, the controller suddenly announced the presence of MiGs. The second formation turned to meet them. A quick glance at the fuel gauge showed I was at the minimum – but still had enough. I turned back, heading northeast. The radar registered a small green blip moving westward. The target turned south, in my direction, but my guess was that he was in the process of turning east – and heading home. The range between us got shorter and shorter. I didn’t have eye contact with the MiG, but the lock was steady.

“The MiG kept heading south, meanwhile – and then turned east, confidently. I thought to myself – maybe I was right, maybe he really was heading home. In any case, it was too late for second thoughts. I zoomed after him, and the range became truly miniscule. I identified a dark green MiG. The familiar buzzing sound told me that the missile had acquired its target. I was at ideal range. A press on the button was followed by the ‘pssst’ sound of the missile launch. Then there was a tremendous explosion and a fireball slammed into the hill ahead. A direct hit.

“The second formation was still messing around with the other MiGs when I joined it. No one understood what I was talking about when I said on the radio: ‘One scored a kill’. There was tremendous rejoicing at the squadron. I felt I had repaid a debt to all the hard-working people at the squadron – especially to the mechanics”.