Traveling Back to the 1960s: The Entire Internet Teaches Me How to Build Missiles

Hale nervously tugged at his collar, afraid that the poisoned needle might accidentally pierce him.

With the roar of the engine, he piloted the black phantom-like U-2 reconnaissance plane deep into the Badain Jaran Desert, patrolling the skies over this mysterious and awe-inspiring land with impunity.

He stared intently at the blue stratosphere below, a magnificent sight that even the most powerful leader of the day, Eisenhower, had never had the chance to witness.

So Robert Hale proudly straightened his chest, but looking out the porthole, the weather conditions ahead seemed worse than expected and not suitable for reconnaissance.

He casually pressed the camera switch a few times, completely unaware that danger was approaching.

Until one moment, the U-2 reconnaissance aircraft's most advanced electronic early warning screen alerted that a high-powered energy beam was locking onto the aircraft on the ground!

Robert Hale frowned upon seeing this.

He believed that East Korea's weaponry was simply not capable of shooting down a U-2 aircraft.

Unless they move their missile battalions deployed in the Gyeonggi, Kanto, Yangtze River Delta and Fujian regions to protect this mysterious desert.

But... Hale thought it was impossible.

The people of Dongguo would not make such a decision that would be penny-wise and pound-foolish.

So... did the J-5 fighter jet launch another reckless uphill dive?

Hale cautiously looked around the cockpit. It seemed that they had just experienced a severe weather event. The large thunderstorms had swallowed up the lone, scattered small clouds, leaving the view below completely unobstructed, with nowhere for the J-5 to hide.

What is the significance of activating the fire control radar?

unless……

In an instant, a feeling of palpitation, deep in my bones, arose spontaneously.

Although Hale did not believe that East Front Air Base had created a new air defense force in addition to the few missile battalions that deployed SAM-2 missiles.

But out of a desire to survive, he immediately pulled up the control stick, following the training manual, and made the U-2 reconnaissance plane climb higher.

"Damn plane, hurry up, hurry up, hurry up!"

The beam of the fire control radar remained firmly attached to the fuselage, never leaving it for a moment.

The beeping of the alarm in the cockpit grew increasingly shrill, making his ears ring, so he simply ripped it off.

The opponent was like a seasoned hunter, astutely anticipating every move the plane made.

Hale could even faintly hear the sound of missiles hurtling towards him from below.

He made a final effort, praying that he could maneuver to evade the attacking missiles.

But it was all in vain.

At a normal altitude, thanks to the fighter jet's agility and the delay of the fire control radar, Hale only needs to perform a single "SAM maneuver" to shake off the missile.

But this is at an altitude of 20,000 meters!

The U-2 reconnaissance aircraft's air intake did not provide enough air for propulsion, so it could only rely on the compressed gas ejected from the hydrogen peroxide to control the aircraft's pitch, yaw, and roll.

It takes a minute just to complete a simple action like making a U-turn.

As for the climbing speed, it was a paltry 200 meters per minute.

Compared to surface-to-air missiles with their own oxidizers and speeds of Mach 3, this aircraft had virtually no chance of survival!

"God...please let me go home, I'll never come back..."

Robert Hale prayed silently, "Please let it miss, for the sake of my weekly devout prayers!"

However, prayer was ineffective; in the face of the iron fist of science, theology became utterly useless.

Three missiles, accompanied by a whistling sound, soared into the sky at an altitude of 20,000 meters with overwhelming force. Hale saw the silver warheads through the porthole, as if death itself had come to embrace him.

The next second, he heard a dull thud.

In an instant, orange-yellow flames exploded one after another in the sky, and the U-2 reconnaissance plane began to shake.

The sudden vibration of the fuselage brought Robert Hale back to his senses, although he found it hard to believe that he had been hit by a missile just two minutes after the fire control radar was turned on!

But the facts are undeniable, and his next concern is the possibility of losing his life.

The fragments from the three surface-to-air missiles exploded and pierced multiple parts of the U-2 reconnaissance aircraft like a rain of pear blossoms. Fortunately, the cockpit and fuel tank, the two most critical parts, were not hit.

After a few seconds of mental blankness, Hale rallied.

This is thousands of kilometers away in a foreign land. There are no teammates to support you. If you want to survive, you have to save yourself!

He gripped the throttle lever with his left hand and the control stick with his right, trying to prevent the plane from falling out of control and to maintain the current altitude.

However, Hale soon discovered that the plane, saturated with a large number of fragments, had completely lost control.

As the fuselage descended, the cockpit began to shake violently, and Hale was tossed around.

He witnessed the wings snap off with a crack, leaving only the bare nose pointing skyward, spinning and belching black smoke as it plummeted into the Gobi Desert.

Hopeless!

Hale wanted to press the ejection seat mechanism to eject himself from the plane.

However, he worried that at such a height and with such strong thrust, he would be ejected from the cabin like a cannonball along with the plastic hatch, and even if he didn't die from the crash, he would be paralyzed.

So Hale abandoned ejection, put on his parachute, and planned to climb out of the cockpit and parachute away.

He struggled to open the plastic hatch, poked half his body out, and then tried to press the self-destruct device on the U-2 reconnaissance plane.

During training, CIA Deputy Director Richard told each pilot that due to the secrecy of the mission, in the event of an emergency, the aircraft must be destroyed and must never be left for the enemy to perform "live dissection".

Richard also assured that once the self-destruct mechanism was powered on, the pilots would have one minute to escape!

At that moment, Hale looked at the red button, but hesitated.

He didn't quite believe Richard's words. From the CIA's perspective, they certainly wouldn't want the pilots on the spy mission to survive.

This is a truth recognized by both the East and the West—only the dead can keep secrets forever.

The clam venom needle at the neck proves this point.

Hale even maliciously speculated that he might immediately perish along with the plane the moment he pressed the button.

The pilot, who was afraid of death, did not dare to gamble with his life, so he gave up on self-destruction, twisted his body and crawled out of the cockpit, and jumped out of the U-2 reconnaissance plane!

The earth was rising rapidly, and Robert Hale was like an insignificant speck of dust, thrown into the boundless golden Gobi Desert.

The broken U-2 reconnaissance plane, trailing wisps of smoke, slowly disintegrated in the sunlight and disappeared into the distance.

Immediately afterwards, the orange and white parachute opened with a bang overhead, like a giant flower bud blooming.

The rapid descent turned into a gentle swaying.

The wind suddenly stopped, and the world finally fell silent.

Sunlight streamed onto the umbrella canopy. Hale looked down and saw the vast Gobi Desert stretching out beneath his feet. The ravines, saline-alkali land, and scattered sand dunes that had been photographed countless times were now presented vividly and clearly before his eyes.

In the distance, a wisp of smoke rises gently from a village.

He slowly closed his eyes and gently made the sign of the cross on his chest:

"Thank you, Lord..."

Minutes later, Robert Hale crash-landed on land in the East.

……

On the other side, at the Xinxi Temple field launch site, when the bright spot on the radar screen disappeared, confirming that the enemy aircraft had been successfully shot down, the soldiers of the entire squadron took off their hats and cheered.

"We've hit a U-2 reconnaissance plane!"

"We shot down those foreign devils' planes!"

"Long live Red Pawn Number One!"

The comrades excitedly embraced each other, cheering and celebrating this long-awaited victory.

Captain Shi leaped onto the spot, then gave Zhou Yunxiao a bear hug, grinning broadly.

"Well, we finally shot down that plane! I'll report this great news to Ye Ling right away; they must be getting impatient, haha!"

The message was quickly sent via coded telegram to Ye Ling, who was stationed at No. 10, as well as to Aobaoshan, No. 17, and the Jincheng Garrison.

Upon hearing this gratifying and triumphant news, Political Commissar Sun and Chief of Staff Xu, who were beside Ye Linghe, were equally overjoyed.

However, being a seasoned veteran, Ye Ling quickly calmed down and, after a moment's thought, gave the following instructions:

"First, thoroughly investigate whether it was truly shot down; don't rush to report. Send out your entire engineering regiment, guard regiment, motor transport regiment, and launch squadron from your third division to secretly bring back the wreckage of the U-2 reconnaissance aircraft, including the pilot's body!"