I'm just praying ... and weeping for the future of Naval Aviation.
Fear not, there are still some out there full of piss and vinegar trying to take over the world, that what nothing more than to take the fight to the enemy at 9 miles a minute, 500 #'s of fun at a time.
I dug this up for you, it hangs in many ready rooms I've been through, including ours:
The Mission
1. The mission of the aircraft carrier is to accurately put ordnance on target and survive.
Everything else on board is simply support for that mission.
2. You win the war by killing the bastards on the ground by the thousands, and if you end up killing bandits one at a time at 20,000 feet enroute, you are simply having a really good day.
3. In peacetime, “ACM” is something the strike fighter pilot uses to ensure most of his days are really good.
4. In war time, “ACM” is something the strike fighter pilot uses to turn and shoot some asshole in the face whose trying to stop him, before going on to destroy the target.
5. There is no such thing as “defensive ACM”. I become offended when someone jumps me enroute to my target, and much offense is intended when I have to take the time to blow his face off.
6. The tally of Medal of Honor winners in Southeast Asia reads: Attack – 5, Fighter – 0. They obviously did not have strike fighters in Southeast Asia.
7. In wartime, our POWs were not released because the enemy sent representatives to sit smugly at “ Peace Talks.” They were not released because domestic anti-war groups unwittingly played into the hands of the enemy and tied the hands of their countrymen at arms. They were not released because politicians levied economic sanctions. They were released because brave men took their bombs downtown and spoke personally to their captors in the ONLY language the enemy understands, bombs raining down upon their heads.
8. The lessons have been forged in blood and steel but all those attack pilots who have gone before you; back when happiness was flying a sluf; back when jets were hard – lightening and mean, and only quiche – eating airline pukes flew multiengine; back when Spads roamed valley's and spit death to those who would try to stop the Skyhawks; In an earlier time, when the biggest Cadillac in town was called “BUFF” and when men took pride in decorating their leather flight jackets with “I’ve been there” patches, and the enemy hid every 1+45 because he knew the next cycle of the attack carrier was headed his way. Times change, technology advances, but the men in the cockpit must be the same brave warriors every age has counted upon in time of peril.
9. Finally, and this is the bottom line, real men fly strike because they understand the most fundamental law of wartime: you negotiate with the enemy only with your knee in his chest and your knife at his throat.
