Page 105 - Never Fly Solo

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came time to choose a follow-on assignment, we both selected
the F-16.
We followed each other to Kunsan Air Base in South
Korea and then finally to Shaw Air Force Base in South Caro-
lina. Koz was probably the closest wingman I had in my entire
Air Force career, and I felt damn lucky to have him in my
personal formation.
But we were very different. Koz had golden hands; mine
were only silver on a good day. The guy was an amazing pilot,
and he progressed up through the flying ranks faster than any
other fighter pilot I knew. No matter how bad the weather or
intense the threat, Koz always maintained a laser focus. He
knew the nearest divert fields, was keenly aware of the fuel
and weapons state of each of his wingmen, and, most impor-
tant, knew where they were at all times. He never lost sight.
I felt safe when we flew together, so when we took off on
a two-ship mission deep into hostile Serbian territory, I knew
I was in good hands. All I had to do was just hang on and not
lose sight of him.
We established our twenty-mile oval “cap” in the south-
ern part of Serbia (close to the city of Pristina) and began
“sanitizing” the airspace by searching for SAMs and radar
sites. The weather was perfect: a cloudless blue sky with
twenty-plus miles of visibility. My job was simple: stay a mile
and a half to two miles line-abreast with Koz at all times—an
ideal position for working our radars in unison should an air
threat appear. The formation also helped us maintain visual
contact so we could check each other’s six for unseen threats.
Minimal radio communication was required, so every maneu-
ver and turn had to be done through visual signals such as
“wing rocks,” in which the lead aircraft rocks his wing in the
desired direction of the turn.