Uqba ben Nafi

Senior Lieutenant Kim sat up quickly. He had seen a bright flash in the window of the distant control tower, and then the tower’s lights had gone out. He pressed the microphone switch on the stick of his aircraft. “Chosun Flight Leader to tower, over!” He got no answer and tried again. The Libyans might be asleep, but there was always a North Korean Air Force officer in the tower when Korean pilots were operating.

“What is it, Chosun Leader?” Lieutenant Choi’s voice came in loudly in Kim’s ear. Kim was glad to hear him awake and alert.

“I saw what might have been an explosion in the tower window, Choi, and now I can’t raise the tower.”

“Do you think it could be an attack?”

“I don’t know. Wake the ground crew; it is nearly time to warm up the engines again, anyway.”

In thirty seconds, they had the turbines started and the auxiliary power cart disconnected. There was still no response from the tower. Kim ran down the aircraft and missile checklists with Choi over the radio as the two aircraft taxied onto the runway and rolled slowly north. What to do? He wondered. Go? We should go.

Kim saw the yellow tracks of two missiles flash in from the sea, and saw the bright bursts of their detonation on targets. He pushed his throttle forward and raced through the rest of his takeoff checklist. He heard a low rumble growing beneath the high-pitched whine of the jet, and then a terrific explosion behind him shook the aircraft violently.

“What was that, Leader?” screamed Choi.

“Bombs, or shells. We go, Choi, roll in my wake!” Kim increased the thrust to takeoff power and accelerated toward the darkened control tower.