It's April 7, 2003. Fighting rages across the fire-swept Iraqi capital as American and Allied soldiers and Marines storm through the rubble-strewn streets, taking heavy fire from the deeply-entrenched, ultra-hardcore, fanatically-dedicated warriors of President Saddam Hussein's Republican Guard – battle-hardened troops committed to making a last stand.
A little north of downtown stood the North Baghdad Bridge – a crucial crossing over the Tigris River that had to be taken and held if the Allies wanted to have any chance of cutting off enemy reinforcements and capturing the city.
The task was given to the US 3rd Infantry Division (Rock of the Marne, y'all!) – hardcore, boots-on-the-ground ass-kickers who'd marched across the country and were finally getting to kick a little ass.
On the far side of the bridge, holding the objective a mere 400 meters away, was a pissed-off swarm of Republican Guard elites entrenched in heavily-fortified positions. As the first American soldiers set foot over the Tigris, they were greeted by a barrage of RPGs, and heavy machine guns zeroed in on the bridge, which was a massive chokepoint.
An epic gun battle raged as the two sides opened up on each other. Still, as more and more RPG fire barreled down on American lines, it didn't take long for the brass of 3rd ID to realize they wouldn't take this bridge without taking heavy casualties.
So they called in air support. Which, in this case, was 28-year-old Captain Kim Campbell of the 75th Expeditionary Fighter Squadron – callsign "Killer Chick" – and her A-10 Warthog.
Suppose you saw our VBT episode on the Murderhog. In that case, you already know this is one of the most insanely-hardcore death machines ever fielded by any army in history – and you kind of have to assume that any time someone piloting one of these hardcore jets gets a callsign like "Killer Chick," they're pretty fucking serious. An Air Force Academy grad, Campbell was one of just 50 women fighter pilots in the USAF in 2003. She was already on her way from Kuwait on a mission to fuck up some Republican Guard tanks and artillery. When the call came down that American troops were in deep shit, she immediately peeled off, opened her throttle, and set a course for Killville.
Diving down through anti-aircraft shrapnel bursts all around her, Campbell had mere seconds to size up the battlefield, which is no easy task considering that she was traveling a couple hundred miles an hour through a ridiculously-chaotic warzone, pick out a camouflaged series of targets a mere 400 meters from friendly lines, and dive straight down, nose-first into it to unleash a massive barrage of death from the epic nose cannon on her mighty beast.
I probably don't need to explain that diving cockpit-first into a swarm of Republican Guard regular infantry armed with RPGs and heavy weapons is marginally dangerous, but this wasn't Captain Campbell's first rodeo – she was on her second tour of duty, she'd already logged hundreds of hours of combat flight time, and she wasn't about to sit there while the patriarchy did all the fighting. You feminist Icon, you!
Campbell dove her Warthog at a steep angle, straight at the enemy, opening up the throttle full and unleashing a few thousand 1.5-pound bullets from the 19-foot long GAU-8 Avenger Gatling Gun strapped onto the nose of her jet in a matter of seconds, then cranking the stick hard, pulling insane Gs, and hauling up out of there.
On her final pass, Campbell unleashed her complement of 2.75-inch high-explosive rockets, liquidating her target in the process but immediately drawing the attention of roughly every anti-aircraft weapon in Iraq at the time. Bullets pinged off her armor as she hammered the stick back, airbursts of AA fire exploded around her, and RPGs streaked past her cockpit.
Then, suddenly, a massive explosion rocked Captain Kim Campbell's A-10, shaking the entire jet violently. A surface-to-air missile had struck the plane's tail, riddling the fuselage with hundreds of shrapnel holes, shredding the tail and the engine cowling, and blowing out the hydraulics and horizontal stabilizers (note: these are all critical parts of an airplane). The plane shook, rolled left, and Campbell found herself pointed nose-first at the city of Baghdad, spinning to the Earth in a death spiral, her caution panel screaming at her, her controls completely unresponsive.
In a split-second, Campbell realized she had two options – eject, let her multimillion-dollar jet explode in the heart of a city of 11 million people, and risk almost certain capture by Iraqi troops, or fight, try to regain control, and risk failing and dying in a towering fireball.
She fought. And, since the brakes, steering, rudders, flaps, and flight gear were all failing to respond, she cut the hydraulics and switched over to manual piloting
Somehow, miraculously, she regained control using this wires-and-cables bullshit – a method of flying that A-10 pilots practice exactly ONCE during their training – pulled out of a dive, straightened the 'Hog, and then proceeded to fly over downtown Iraq in a ridiculously-crippled aircraft basically held together by duct tape and the love of Jesus.
Despite a few close calls, Campbell stuck with her wingman, made it over the city, got back up above cloud cover, and then proceeded to manually steer her aircraft back to her base in Kuwait. She could have theoretically ejected over open ground and been rescued by friendlies in Kuwait. On her way home, Captain Campbell decided, f*ck it, I'm bringing this sucker home in one piece. She then proceeded to attempt a manual landing.
Manual landings had been attempted exactly twice before this. The first time, the pilot crashed and died. The second time, the plane broke in half and caught fire, and the pilot was only saved when fire crews pulled him out of the blaze. And now Kim Campbell was trying to do it with a plane resembling a wedge of swiss cheese with wings.
According to her flight lead, "she landed in manual more smoothly than I landed with hydraulics." It was a three-wheels-down, textbook landing, despite, you know, the plane basically falling apart, and the following day Campbell was out there flying close air support for a rescue mission over Baghdad like nothing had happened. She'd go on to serve three tours in Iraq and Afghanistan and fly 375 combat hours. For context – Tom Cruise only starred in two Top Gun movies, and everyone is still pole-jocking the guy.
For her actions in April 2003 – eliminating an enemy position that was "danger close" to friendly troops and her ability to fly home with wires and cranks – she received the Distinguished Flying Cross and got a commendation from the South Carolina legislature. Of course, none of that even came close to the paper napkin that a soldier from the Third Infantry left for her in her ready room later that week. It had a simple, hand-written message: "If it hadn't been for you guys, I wouldn't still be here."
Killer Chick, we salute you. We still need to make a movie about your exploits, which is a f*cking travesty. I mean, seriously, we made one about Swofford crying about being bored in the desert -- can we get a Killer Chick epic? Let's go, Hollywood!