#NAS San Diego

[sepiadays]

Martin BM bombers of VT-1S in flight off San Diego, sometime between 1931 and 1934.

[person25]

Me: I need them in my BONES😍

Also me, an asexual: would never participate in sexual intimacy

[mistamisterious]

Quick 10 min Diego sketch on my homework booklet lol

[caleysteggy]

chloebennet: Bffs. @mingna_wen @lil_henstridge @hayleyatwell #sdcc2014 (x)

[nsdclassic]

Miata NA

[crownedstoat]

NAS San Diego was home to USS Ranger (R) and USS Langley (L) in the mid/late ’30s. Photo taken from a Martin PM-1.

[jaywritesrps]

[spookyfoxdreamer]

[swantales-aw0owo0]

Just a little something I’ve been cooking (attempting to write a secretly married hangster fic so I figured out an entire timeline pre-Tg:m cause the timeline is kinda fucked in the movies)

Bradley is born in ‘84 (June 27)

Jake is born in ‘87 (January 3)

Top gun takes place in ‘86

Carole dies in ‘96 (Bradley moves in with Ice and Mav)(he’s 12)

Bradley’s papers are pulled, he begins to attend UCSD (University of California San Diego), and he stops talking to Mav in ‘02

(College in the fall of ‘02)

Jake, Javy, and Natasha all attend the US Naval Academy in Annapolis together. Jake and Javy bunk together and become fast friends/brothers. Nat becomes friends with Javy but can’t get past Jake’s persona to get along with him. ‘05

Bradley graduates with a bachelor’s degree in PoliSci and a minor in History spring of ‘06

Bradley and Jake meet in the summer of ‘06 right before Bradley goes to flight school and after Jake’s first year at the Naval Academy in Annapolis.

Bradley then goes to Pensacola for 18 months (‘06-‘07) continuing to meet up with Jake whenever possible

Bradley gets stationed at the Naval Base San Diego from ‘07-‘08

Bradley is invited to and wins Top Gun in ‘08 before being sent to the Naval Air Station Jacksonville

Jake, Javy, and Nat all graduate from the Naval Academy in ‘08 and then spend 18 months in Pensacola for flight school (‘08-‘09)

Javy and Jake are stationed together

Nat gets stationed with Bradley who’s heard his boyfriend (husband) complaining about her and befriends her.

Jake, Javy, and Nat all attend Top Gun together in ‘09 and Bradley is sent back to NAS San Diego. This is when Nat finds out about their relationship. Jake scrapes a win at top gun, very closely followed by Nat then Javy.

December 18 ‘10 DADT is repealed

They fly up to Vermont to get married in a courthouse and then “honeymoon” in NY December 21 ‘11 after taking time off for Christmas. Javy and Nat attend as their best man/woman and witnesses

The four get stationed on the USS. George Washington where the “rivalry” between Jake and Bradley is established from their banter over comms and on the carrier. They spend 18 months there before they’re all split up. (‘11-‘12)

Over the next 8 years the four are moved around occasionally stationed with each other. Jake and Bradley have a house together in Cali (Bradley’s parents house) for any free time they have.

From ‘20 onward Jake is flying with the Vigilantes out of Lemoore and Bradley is on board the USS Theodore Roosevelt flying with the Golden Warriors.

‘22 TG:M (Bradley is 38, Jake is 35, Mav is 60)

I spent a long time on the logistics of years and math so if you see any mistakes no you didn’t <3

[usaac-official]

Navy armorers hoist a torpedo onto the wing of a PBY Catalina at NAS North Island, San Diego, late 1942

[nocternalrandomness]

"RUDY 35" arriving at Mesa Gateway, Arizona from NAS North Island, San Diego

[usafphantom2]

#TomcatTail

#TomcatTuesday

That Time at Top Gun I Got Jumped by an F-5

Disclaimer: This #TomcatTail occurred almost 30 years ago and while I’ve got the lion’s share of the details correct, there may be a few errors but not in anything substantive to the story. Sorry, I’m old.

Getting selected to attend Top Gun in March of 1995 was pretty cool. Back in those days, TG was still at NAS Miramar so a good bit of training occurred in the Top Gun hangar and out over the water off San Diego. Other elements of training involved training ranges near El Centro/Yuma, Fallon, Nevada and China Lake, CA (emitter hop). All in all it was a great experience but it did have a couple “others”.

First, both the selected pilot and RIO are supposed to be cruise qualified, having done a deployment as they would likely become Pilot and RIO training officers after they graduated. Unfortunately, the luck of the draw had it that a non-cruise-experienced RIO got the nod to attend with me which made it just a bit more challenging. No dig on my RIO, it’s a really hard thing for anyone to do, but it made for some extra work on me in a learning environment.

The second “other” – and I know you aviators out there will be shaking your head in recognition – was that when I went through there was a HUGE budget problem in the flying hour program: not enough money for gas (when is there, right??). My CO’s solution was to only partially fill all the jets for each flight (internal fuel only) and NOT fill the drop tanks. Your normal fuel load of 20,000 pounds was reduced to 16,000 pounds (yes, 20% reduction). Not my favorite CO, BTW. I asked “can I at least take the drop tanks off so I don’t have the drag penalty?”, his answer was, in a word, “no.” D*ck. Any other classmates have this problem? Nope. Double D*ck.

That was my challenge all the way through Top Gun; an inexperienced RIO (still love him like a brother) and a 20% fuel penalty for every flight. My RIO got better pretty quickly and generally rose to the occasion, and for my part (having always been a Friend of Maintenance or FOM) I managed to often times sweet talk the Sailors fueling the jet to “accidentally” fill up the drops. I always had a great relationship with Sailors (my Dad was Enlisted before he became a Naval Aviator), so it wasn’t that hard to get ‘em to help me out on occasion.

It was a pretty lengthy syllabus (I counted 28 hops in my logbook just now) with your standard “small to big” training focus. 1v1s, 2v2s, 4v4s, the infamous “Flanker Hop” against high alt/high speed Vipers, threat emitters at China Lake, and Strike missions around Fallon, Nevada. The instructors were absolutely top notch and literally everything you did (from brief, to flight, to fight, to debrief) was critiqued. It’s like applying Blue Angel precision to the fighter environment.

With that, we come to the story of getting jumped by an F-5. As I recall, the hop was a four plane Self Escort Strike (Fighter/Bomber configuration) at the training range around Fallon, Nevada carrying two each inert Mk 82s (cement 500lb bombs). We’d fight our way in from the east on the north side of the range, hang a left at the right time to attack the Bravo 19 target complex to the south, and egress/hook out to the west after that (picture counter-clockwise flow). We were in a four plane and the section of F-14Bs were in the lead, and I was Dash-2 in the section of F-14As.

Side note – one crew per squadron was selected per class so they generally ran 2 sections of Tomcats and two sections of Hornets (maybe a few more). At the time, I was in VF-24 in the F-14A so I got crewed up with another Pilot/RIO [admission – for the LIFE of me I can’t remember their squadron……VF-213?.....31?... ...dunno….it was 1995 and they were flying A’s out of Miramar] and we’d swap leads every other mission/syllabus hop. Today “Stinky” was in the lead (not his real callsign).

We started the run from the east headed west along the northern boundary of the working area. We were one mile combat spread (each jet 1 mile apart) in a line abreast and I was on the far right (northernmost fighter); lead fighter in the B was on the far left and Stinky was 1 mile to my left. Break those hands out again if it helps. Looks about like this:

◄ - Dash 4 (me)

◄ - Dash 3 (Stinky)

◄ - Dash 2 (F-14B)

◄ - Dash 1 (Lead F-14B)

The expectation is that we’d see some long-range contacts (we did) and fire some BVR weapons (we did) and then make our way to the target area and get jumped either in the middle during our turn south (we did) or immediately off the target after we released (we did).

So we’re “haulin’ the chili” as we used to say, ingressing at 480kts and nearing the swing south. Parenthetically, we liked to travel at speeds in multiples of 60 because that made the time/distance calculation easier…..480kts = 8 miles a minute means 16 miles away = 2 minutes. We hit the turn point and start this sweeping gentle “wheel” to the left and steady up on a southerly heading as I get back in position having been on the outside of the turn. Right when we settle back in and we’re all 1-mile line abreast, my RIO shouts out on the tactical frequency “BOGEY RIGHT THREE O’CLOCK ONE MILE!!!” I look over and sure enough there’s an F-5 at one mile away on my altitude pointing right at me. Dang it.

Here’s where it gets funny. Stinky calls out on the radio “We’re clear!”, meaning he thinks we don’t need to engage and can blow through. Well yes, Stinky, YOU are clear because the F-5 is TWO miles from YOU and has no chance of catching YOU, but I’VE got him in my knickers and I HAVE to honor his presence and engage. So I do.

INTERMISSION – I will say that Stinky was a resoundingly gifted Tomcat pilot and was as good at ACM as anyone, but this was NOT the first time he’d left me to engage as he blew through. It happened on a previous 2 plane ingress; I got jumped and he kept going. Not the coolest move, naturally, and the Instructors were savage in their critique but honestly I didn’t have to worry about it after Top Gun because he wasn’t in my squadron. We now return you to your previously schedule dogfight.

So bam, max performance turn to the right to take the F-5 down my right side close aboard to try and neutralize the threat and then figure out what’s next. I figure that if I want to have a snowballs chance in hell to get back to my division, I had to steer the fight properly. So he goes down my right side and I take the fight two circle (continue the right turn, but mostly in the vertical), come out of blower to get the speed down and turn rate to increase quickly and pull hard to get nose on. It works pretty well because the F-5 turns about like a Phantom (meaning: it doesn’t). I get the nose to rate around quickly and pull down to get nose on the F-5 and call a quick “Fox 2” on him. Fortunately for me, we’re kind of pointing the way we were going originally, so it’s blowers to Zone 5 and try and find our buddies. Honestly, I think that was a gift from the Instructor to configure it so I’d bag him and be able to continue. They were always good like that.

My RIO finds them on the pulse scope pretty quickly; they’re a number of miles ahead but we’re heading down hill toward them in full grunt, haulin’ and extra helping of chili. I get a visual and aim for the Dash-4 position to the right of Stinky where I was previously. By this time we’re getting close to the roll in point on the Bravo 19 target. The plan is to do a “John Wayne Left”, where – just like in the movies – we all roll in on the target leftward, one after another. We’ll likely even mentally make that noise from those movies…..”Brrrrr…..Brrrrrr…..Brrrrrr”. The timing works out absolutely perfectly (rather be lucky than good). I’m sliding up into position when Dash 1 rolls left….Dash 2 goes……my RIO gets Air-to-Ground read into the system, good symbology…..Stinky goes….then I go.

Master Arm on, roll left, pull nose to the target, 45° dive set, symbology tracking (a vertical line through the target with a que marker marching down to a release marker), que marker hits release marker, press the bomb button (“pickle”), thump-thump, and we’re off target. I pull out hard, roll wings left to look back briefly at the target (a hit, or at least close enough) and find and join on Stinky in spread again.

The B guys get jumped from the north now and me and Stinky have a couple bogies on our nose to the west. We’ve split into roughly separate sections so now it’s time to fight our way out. Fortunately for us, the bogies are right on our nose, so discretion being the better part of valor we blow through as we accelerate through the number at about 5,000 feet off the deck. Not a good idea to hang out over simulated bad guy country after you just bombed the shit out of ‘em. “Evaluate the bug” says Stinky…..”good bug” says the Instructor. Success.

We come back for the debrief and it goes fairly well. For those that haven’t been through, “fairly well” means you get talked to about each and every point of the flight for about 3 hours. Stinky got savaged for not honoring the threat to his wingman but again, no big deal to me. And then we go to the tapes to evaluate our strike run. It comes to my turn and we roll tape. The vertical line (Bomb Fall Line, I think) tracks over the target, que hits, bombs come off, and the instructor hits pause.

“So how fast were you going at release?” Uh oh. I had no idea. So you know, there are actually limits to how fast you can drop ordnance based on how much testing had been done on the airframe. At that point the Tomcat wasn’t cleared for supersonic release. Conjecture was that depending on speed and airflow that a released bomb may get “stuck” in the air around the jet and clatter around in the tunnel between the engines. On the “good/bad scale”, that’s clearly on “bad.”

“I’m not sure, Sir. I was trying to get into position on time to roll in with the division and I didn’t check.”

“Well, based on what we could see on radar, you joined your division nearly supersonic, right around 600 knots. Then you rolled in, so I figure you may have dropped past the number. Congratulations, you’re a test pilot.”

Oops. “Uhhh…..thank you Sir.” What a time to be alive!

@RSE_vb via X

[captain-price-unofficially]

Navy armorers hoist a torpedo onto the wing of a PBY Catalina at NAS North Island, San Diego, late 1942.

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

You Are My Soulmate

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader

Status: In Progress

Last Updated: July 30th, 2024

Disclaimers: Female!Reader

A/N: This is a Soulmate!AU with a spin. Instead of having a single soulmark, a quarter of the population have multiple. Tinkerbell and Rooster are two of those people. I love Soulmate AUs, and well, the Top Gun Brain-Rot is still ever present, so here we go. This one is going to be a bit different for me, as I'm going to be trying out flipping perspectives within the chapters between Rooster and Tinkerbell (Reader's Nickname throughout the fic).

Themes: Angst, Smut, Soulmate!AU, Bradley is a bit of a dick, Rivals to Friends to Lovers, Unrequited Love (Slight, One-Sided)

Summary: You're ecstatic when you find out you have five soul indicators at midnight on the day of your twenty-first birthday, right before you start Officer Candidate School for the Navy in Rhode Island. OCS is so complex you can’t devote time to searching for your soulmate. On graduating from Officer Candidate School, Naval Aviation Command School, and Aviation Maintenance School at the top of your class, you are given the primary selection of detachment and travel worldwide as an Aviation Maintenance Duty Officer. The excitement you felt on your twenty-first birthday has changed over the past seven years, and you’re impatient to see who your soul is. After years of constant movement, it’s a relief to learn you have been assigned to run maintenance on a squadron’s planes out of Naval Air Station North Island. San Diego is sunny and gorgeous, an absolute dream after being stuck on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the ocean for the past six months. The Dagger Squad is a newly-permanent squadron based out of NAS North Island. Each member welcomed you to Miramar as a part of their maintenance crew with warmth and friendliness. Except for one pilot, callsign: Rooster. He’s the most unpleasant pilot you’ve ever met. He’s full of himself, cocky, arrogant, rude, and condescending. If only he didn’t feel so familiar. If only you didn’t feel so drawn to him. 

Bradley Bradshaw is sure he’s never going to find his soulmate. He’d been in mourning on his twenty-first birthday, still grieving the loss of his mother, followed by the loss of the only father he’d ever known, his Uncle Mav. It isn’t until Bradley is across the country at Officer Candidate School that he realizes he never received his soul indicators. Years later, and thousands of miles away, recovering from a plane crash, Bradley, now known as Rooster, jolts awake to the half-remembered scent of citrus and glistening hair in a thick braid. Without any other indicators, Rooster gives up. After all, who’d want a soul disfigured by something they loved? That’s when Bradley gives up. He sinks into the reputation of the piano-playing, mustachioed casanova and gives up on his dreams of finding a love like his parents had found in each other. And he’s content with his life until he runs into the feisty, loud AMDO officer newly assigned to NASNI. Something about her feels like everything Bradley’s been searching for, at least, if she weren’t completely committed to Bagman already. You can call him what you want, but Rooster doesn’t steal another man’s girl.

You Are My Soulmate on AO3

You Are My Soulmate on Wattpad

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 - Tinkerbell

Chapter 2 - Rooster

Chapter 3 - Rooster

Chapter 3 - Tinkerbell

Chapter 4

Chapter 5 - Tinkerbell

Chapter 5 - Rooster

Chapter 6 - Tinkerbell

Chapter 6 - Rooster

Chapter 7 - Tinkerbell

Chapter 7 - Rooster

Chapter 8 - Tinkerbell

Taglist is Open!

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[nsdclassic]

NA Miata

[dangerousthingobservation]

F-4N Phantom II from VF-301 inflight over NAS San Diego. (June1980)