Chapter 3 The Bomb Run



Captain Pickens turned to the new heading and engaged the autopilot, they were now cruising at 32,000 feet on a deadhead cruise toward Israel.  The aging B-52 they were flying was often referred to as the BUFF which means ‘big ugly flying fellow’ or ‘big ugly flying fucker’ if you are half drunk at the bar.  They were on a post WW3 cleanup mission, they were assigned to take out sinister sites in Israel.

He continued his narration, “This struggle between good and evil is always with us, it never really goes away and can’t go away because humans have to work for their sustenance and corruption follows those seeking an easy buck.  Every so often in history, that which is consider good gets overtaken by what we consider to be evil.  That’s when drastic action on part of the good must be taken to overcome evil, for if evil flourishes to long then life would cease to exist.”


The Copilot asks, “So we are acting for the good, right?”  Pickens replies, “Yes, but how do we know we are in the right?” he pauses then asks, “Can anyone guess how to determine if our act, if this mission is for the good, is morally correct or not?  Will our act, the use of military force, end the reign of evil?”  The gunner, who has been quietly sleeping from his previous night drinking binge yawns and says “Hell yeah, we’re bombing Rothschild’s fricking temple of doom.”

“Very good Guns … we are ending the reign of Rothschild’s evil, we are ending the ability of Rothschild family and their minions to project his influence in the world via Israel, and insuring that the American people and the people of the world never fall under Zionist control again.  What we are doing is of epic importance for the survival of the human specie, we are ending the reign of evil and allowing humans to be humane again.”

israeli missile launched against b-52

All of a sudden the Electronic Warfare Officer yells over the intercom, “Pilot we are being painted by a SAM! … oh shit, this is not good!”  The EWO’s CRT screen blinks warning messages and then he screams into the mic “MISSILE HOT, MISSILE LAUNCH – get us the hell out of here pilot!”  “Roger, dodger” the Captain says calmly.  Pickens breaks radio silence within the three B-52 cell and tells the other two bombers to scram then takes aggressive evasive maneuvers.  He yanks the throttles to idle and raises the flaps and drops the gear, taking the buff into a death spiral of 20,000 VVI fps dive and turning hard left.

The BUFF shudders from the turbulence, g-forces crinkling the old aluminum skin on the aging craft, the crew tightens up their parachute ejection seat straps and braces for the inbound missile.  As the pilot wrestles with the yoke, standing the aircraft on its left wing tip and pulling the nose in a tight circle, he yells into the mic, “Where the hell did that come from?”  The EWO responds, “It was from a Israeli frigate in the Red Sea.”

The Navigator calls out the elevations:  “26,000, 22,000, 18,000, 15,000, 12,000, 10,000, 8,000…”  Then the EWO chimes in, “All clear, pilot – missile gone.”  The pilot immediately rolls the aircraft back to level flight pulling the nose back up the horizon.  “Co – raise the gear!”  He pulls the spoiler lever to zero and the loud sound of air rushing air ceases as the aircraft drag is cleaned up.  He eases the throttles to half and checks the gear lights all going out.  “Whew” says Slim, “There are still hostile Joos down there!”

Captain Pickens edged the nose northwest bound in the general direction, getting back on track, “Nav give me a heading!”   “Ok pilot, turn right to heading 030.”   They were now approaching land, looking at an endless sea of light brown desert.  “Where the hell are we, Nav?”  Pickens queries the Navigator.  “We are approaching the south coast of Saudi Arabia.”  “Then give me a heading toward Mecca.”  A few seconds later the Nav says:  “Ok, turn right to heading to 310.”

b-52 inflight low level

“How’s the fuel Co?” Pickens asks this routine question now that they are on Plan B.

“Real good, we still have 220 thousand pounds,” replies the Copilot.

Pickens belly laughs  “Hell, that’s more fuel than I’ll burn in my truck for the rest of my life.”  That calmed the nervous crew, Pickens was an ace flyer and a skilled psychologist, he knew exactly what to say at the right time.

They inched back up to 22,000 feet to save on gas and see the sights, now that they were over the Saudi coast range they felt safe.  The Copilot was looking out the right window, scanning for bogies, and lets out an exhalation and says “Man, I’m glad I don’t live here!”  as he stares into the barren mountainous wasteland.

“You got that right Co, you are looking at and the land of Ali Baba and his Forty Thieves who have the world’s biggest supply of black gold.”

Pickens had been doing some mental math and asked the Radar, “Hey Radar, remember that alt target in the Negev desert we discussed yesterday?”

“You mean the nuclear site?”

“Yeah that one,…, Nav give me a heading straight to the Jordan southern border 100 miles east of the Gulf of Aqaba.”

The Navigator quickly plotted a new route, “Ok, pilot turn right to heading 335.”

The crew was now humming along the mountainous region of western Saudi Arabia, heading northwest toward the infamous Israel Dimona nuclear power plant and arsenal.  It was bright and sunny and they didn’t expect any threats, they were over their trusted Middle East ally, the land of a never ending supply of oil.

israel secret nuclear weapons program

Our crew had an hour of time to kill before crossing the Jordan border, Pickens decides to pick up the discussion between good and evil again.  Pickens asks the Copilot, “Hey do you know the story about Dimona?”

The copilot glances left and looks puzzled, “Am I supposed to know?”

“Do you know why Command wants this facility taken out?” The Copilot shrugs his shoulders. “Because they have a secret weapons lab underneath.”

“Whatttt, what are you talking about, them Israelis have nukes?  I never heard that.” exclaims the Copilot.

“Well I’ve been do a lot of reading on the internet.”   The pilot explains to the crew the story of Dimona, “Well, there was this Israeli nuclear technician Mordechai Vanunu who told the world what they were really doing down below in secret.  Building bombs, secret nuclear bombs while telling the world they were nuclear free.”


The Copilot was confused, “I thought Israel was worried about Iran getting the bomb.”

Pickens then went on, “That was the old Zionist trick of accusing the targeted nation of what you yourself were doing.  And the Zionists wasted no time blackmailing the world with their bombs, arm twisting governments into compliance with the New World Order which was really the Jewish World Order being run out of Rothschild’s pet state Israel.”

The navigator keys the mic and tells the crew, “We are crossing into Jordan now.”  They were now headed almost due north and descending into the low level bomb run.  The plan was to sneak up on Dimona from the south, come in along the west side of Mamshit National Park mountains and lay a B61 nuke down on the facility.  They had two B61’s hanging in the bomb bay that were outfitted with parachutes just in case they had to do a low level bomb run.

Captain Pickens went on with his knowledge of Israel’s secret nuclear bomb program, “The Israeli Jews were blackmailing our government with their nukes, America had to fork over billions of dollars of military and economic aid to Israel, and fight the wars for Israel, and not let on who did 911, and go into debt by the trillions, fighting the wars for the Jews.  It was a sweet deal for them and it was the final nail in America’s coffin.”

The B-52 was now trimming the mountain ridges as they sped along traveling northbound in the deserted southern tip of Israel.  They entered the preplanned bomb run, the Copilot started calling out the headings.  “Two minutes to drop Pilot”, said the Radar Navigator who was busy aligning the crosshairs of his radar scope on the predesignated geographical offsets for the bombing computer’s triangulation.

The Copilot was peering out his front window, the rest of windows were covered with reflective shades, both the pilots were wearing star wars helmet visors that would darken when the bomb went off.  Captain Pickens activated his bomb bay switch and tells the Radar, “Ok – are we ready?”  The Radar was rolling the mouse to align the craft, and took control of the final headings, “Pilot hold the wings steady”, the BUFF was now at bomb drop altitude of 2000 feet AGL and lining up on the final leg of the bomb run.

As the bomb bay doors opened, a loud rush of air filled the cockpit, the Nav started the countdown “10, 9, 8, … 6,5, …3,2,1, BOMBS AWAY!”  The Pilot could see a shepherd with two dozen goats right in the middle of the bomb rectangle.  “Holy shit”, he thought, that poor guy is going to have a bad day.  They had been briefed that the town of Dimona had been evacuated, so he was surprised to see anyone down there, but he didn’t voice his observation because it would have demoralized the crew.

As the B-52 sped away, the B61 bomb softly parachuted onto the desert floor just to the south of the Dimona nuclear complex, right square in the bombing target rectangle.  The Arabic sheep herder saw the whole thing and was yelling in Arabic, the one true god Allah and his prophet Mohammed.  The bomb was set with a two minute fuse after touching down, it just laid their like a dud allowing our crew to speed away at maximum speed.

The pilot was wondering what the expression on that man’s face was, seeing a giant bomber drop a silvery bomb with parachute.  He was sure that man would know it wasn’t going to be good for him.  “I’m glad I’m not that poor focker” he said outloud as he popped his oxygen mask loose.  The Co-pilot looked over, “You talkin’ to me?”  The pilot smirked, “Nah, tell ya later what I saw.”

When the bomb detonated, everything within a half mile and five hundred feet deep was instantly vaporized, the entire Dimona complex was unearthed, sending millions of tons of superheated dirt, concrete, steel up in a big rolling blackened fireball toward the heavens.  Any goat or living thing within a two mile range was instantly kill and lit on fire.  Nukes are bad ass, you never want to be near one when they go off.


Our hero flyboys now felt safe, the nuclear detonation sent out an intense flash of light, any nearby fighter jets that might be tracking them would have been instantly blinded and sent careening into the dirt.  They continued on toward Tel Aviv, they had successfully completed one part of their mission, to take out the sinister site of the Israel nuclear weapons program.

Bomb Rub Israel a book by Yukon Jack.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s