Back in 1978, I was admitted to Northwestern Polytechnical University.

Chapter 250 Dassault's fighter jet got shot down!
Thousands of meters in the air.

Colonel Mazandarani smoothly maneuvered his fighter jet, listening to the continuous reports from Lieutenant Najafi, the radar officer behind him.

"Four targets, it should be the Phantom F1!"

"Distance 250 kilometers... 200 kilometers... 150 kilometers... Switching to PDSTT mode..."

"The Lightning-20 is ready at a distance of 100 kilometers."

"Eighty kilometers, seventy kilometers..."

"emission!"

At the seventy-kilometer mark, Colonel Mazandarani finally gave the order.

Bang!
The pylon was unlocked, and a Lightning-20 missile detached from the pylon, falling more than ten meters downwards. While swaying, the engine at the tail suddenly ignited, and the missile shot out with a whoosh!

Compared to the Phoenix missiles that were previously launched, the Lightning-20 clearly uses a more advanced engine, resulting in very little exhaust smoke!

The fighter jet continued to fly steadily, illuminating the target ahead. Although the Lightning-20 is an active guidance system, it still needs the assistance of the carrier aircraft before its active seeker can detect the target.

Seventy kilometers away, the enemy plane launched a missile!

Inside the base, chaos erupted immediately.

"Damn it, it's a tomcat! A tomcat has appeared!"

"Impossible, weren't they all destroyed?"

"It's said that it wasn't completely destroyed at the time; there are probably still about ten aircraft being maintained and repaired in the hangar..."

"Stop arguing! Falcon Squadron, get out there immediately and hunt down these damned enemy planes!" the base commander shouted.

Someone swallowed hard.

Are you kidding me? They can launch missiles from 100 kilometers away, while we...

"We have Dassault's most advanced Mirage F1 fighter jets at our disposal, and they can also use Matra Super 530 missiles!" the commander shouted. "Our fighter jets are not helpless against the enemy! Now is the time to show our strength! Falcon Squadron, take off immediately, that's the order!"

The pilot who was called out walked out of the pilot preparation room with a long face, not wanting to go up and die at all!
At this moment, they did not know that they had no chance of ascending to heaven, but going to the Western Paradise was a possibility.

As I climbed into the cockpit, closed the hatch, and just as I started the engine, a roaring sound suddenly came from afar.

This isn't the roar of our own planes!
The pilots looked up, their faces filled with terror. From the east, a large swarm of planes was flying in, dark and menacing, coming to bomb them!
The base's anti-aircraft guns had already opened fire, and anti-aircraft missiles, trailing flames, flew into the sky, but it was useless. The planes made complex maneuvers to evade, and then... a sharp whistling sound rang out.

The bombs have fallen!

The pilot, who had no intention of taking off in the first place, immediately jumped out of the plane. At this point, the plane would definitely be the enemy's first target to bomb, so it would be safer to hide in the bushes nearby!
Wait, there's no ladder!

The ground crew had already removed the ladder, but they simply jumped down! This is where the advantage of the airplane's built-in boarding stairs really shines.

Boom, boom boom!

Explosions rang out one after another, and the entire base was filled with fire and smoke.

The pilots of Langtuo were extremely pleased. The anger they had been holding in for the past ten days finally had a way to be vented!

The factory that converts Scud missiles into Hussein missiles was discovered yesterday. Last night, they had already formulated a bombing plan. When they discovered that the factory was near the Harir Air Force Base, unsurprisingly, everyone hoped to bomb the base as well!

Just like the Isfahan base was bombed, this base must be bombed in the same way! Only in this way can we vent our anger!
So they dispatched more fighter jets, splitting into two groups: one to bomb the factory and the other to bomb the base!

Boom, boom boom!

Explosions rang out one after another. The pilots, who had just dropped their bombs, still felt it wasn't enough to vent their anger. So, they swooped down and pressed the cannon firing button on the running Izvestia Air Force personnel.

tom tom tom...

On this day, Harrier Air Force Base suffered a devastating attack, and their Mirage F1 fighter jets were completely ineffective. Not only were the ground-based aircraft unable to take off, but those that flew over were also unable to resist!

In the sky, Adnan Squadron is undergoing a life-or-death test.

The airborne radar, with a maximum search range of 55 kilometers, hadn't even detected the opponent before it was attacked! At that moment, Adnan had already put the clutter on the radar screen behind him.

Turn sideways to get rid of him!

The most common way to deal with pulse Doppler radar is to simply turn 90 degrees to break the lock on the other side's radar!

The four planes split apart, trying to shake off the chaos. The radio crackled with various noises, infuriating Adnan. At that moment, he could almost picture the panic his men were in. For an excellent pilot, it was crucial to remain calm and collected at all times!
"Damn it, I haven't gotten rid of it!"

"Quick, save me!"

This is all thanks to the advanced French avionics. If it were an outdated aircraft like the MiG-21 or MiG-23, it wouldn't be able to detect the Tomcat's radar at all, and it wouldn't even know who hit it.

Now, even if I know, it's useless!
The radar warning receiver stopped working in Adnan's earpiece. He knew he was safe for now. Next…

Adnan gritted his teeth, pushed the control stick in the opposite direction again, and pushed the rudder to break away at a 90-degree angle. This meant that he would get further and further away from his opponent. Now, if he wanted to get closer, he would have to break away at a 90-degree angle in the opposite direction. By alternating back and forth like this, he could gradually get closer to his opponent!

In the dictionary of aerial combat, this maneuver is called an S-turn!

His radar has a search range of only 55 kilometers, and his Matra Super 530 missile has a range of only 40 kilometers, which is the maximum range. This means that he can only launch the missile when he gets within 20 kilometers of the target!

Once, twice, three times...

boom!
He heard an explosion in his headset, but he didn't turn around. It must have been the other planes in his squadron that had been shot down…

He couldn't save his wingman; he could only take out the enemy! At that moment, Adnan had only one thought in his mind: as the best pilot, dying on the battlefield was not terrible; being bombed to death on the ground was truly humiliating!

Opposite us, ten thousand meters above the ground.

"A target keeps appearing on the radar screen, it's probably approaching us in an S-curve maneuver to escape!" Lieutenant Najafi said. "Now, switch to PSTT mode."

Without the filtering effect of pulse Doppler, this maneuvering is completely useless!
Sure enough, the target appeared clearly on the screen.

"Fifty kilometers away!"

"Prepare a Lightning-10!"

At this moment, Colonel Mazandarani remained calm, as calm as if he were playing a video game. That's right, before even entering the air combat, he had already shot down three targets, and the remaining one was just fighting like a cornered beast. This feeling... was no different from playing a video game!
Right now, the opponent is playing very fancy and has excellent skills, but in the face of absolute strength, no matter how skillful the flying technique is, it is meaningless!
"Target locked at 30 kilometers!"

"Launch!" Flames flickered beneath the wings as the Lightning-10, guided by semi-active radar, detached from its pylon and flew toward its target!
On the opposite side, in the Phantom F1, Adnan heard the radar warning receiver in his headset. He gritted his teeth and started to turn to the side again, but... this time he miscalculated. No matter how he turned, he couldn't shake off the other side's lock. Listening to the continuous beeping of the radar warning receiver in his headset, Adnan pulled the control stick and began to climb.

The fighter jet climbed several hundred meters and then began to dive again, aiming to deplete the enemy's missile energy. This is the best way to deal with semi-active radar-guided missiles.

Even if it's a Phoenix missile, this tactic will still work, because at this distance, the Phoenix missile won't fly a high-trajectory trajectory; it will fly directly towards the target just like a regular missile, and it will also maneuver along with the target's movement.

The Mirage F1's weaknesses are too obvious: its radar search range is too short, its missile range is too short... If they could detect their opponents from a greater distance and launch attacks from a greater distance, they wouldn't be in such a sorry state now... Wait a minute!
During his second dive, Adnan saw the missile hurtling towards him in the distance. It had burned through all its propellant and was now in the inertial flight phase. If he could just keep swerving, he could definitely exhaust its energy. But now…

In Adnan's retina, the missile grew larger and larger. At this point, he could only use all his strength, pulling the stick and rudder, performing a high-G turn, while simultaneously releasing countermeasures, hoping to shake off that damned missile...

boom!
With an explosion, Adnan felt his fighter jet jolt violently, and then various malfunction warning lights flashed on the dashboard in front of him.

Adnan did not hesitate at all and pulled the ejection pin.

Above him, the cockpit canopy was destroyed; below him, the ejection seat's rockets ignited. The overload made him feel like he was dying. At this moment, he still felt somewhat unwilling. If it were a combination of J-8 and Super-7, they wouldn't have lost so badly. It was the outdated Dassault fighters that left them with no chance to fight back!

He was shot down before he could even gain the ability to attack!

With his fall, this pathetic counterattack finally came to an end.

An underground command post near Baghdad.

"Our Haril Air Force Base has suffered a devastating blow. Of the 36 Mirage F1 fighter jets deployed at the base, 28 have been completely destroyed, and the remaining 8 require major repairs..." Hamid was extremely uneasy at this moment.

This was a failure, a major failure! How furious must Saddam be? How will he punish himself?
Hamid could hardly believe it.

"Didn't they fight back?" Shadama's face was grim, and his words were filled with murderous intent.

"Of course they retaliated, but the Mirage F1's performance was too poor. Before the onboard radar could even lock onto the target, several were shot down by the first volley of missiles fired by the enemy. At that time, only Adnan, the squadron leader of the 11th Fighter Squadron, remained. Under these circumstances, he still did not back down. Alone, he piloted his fighter jet to continue flying towards the enemy aircraft. Unfortunately, he was shot down when he was still 30 kilometers away from the enemy aircraft. At that time, the missiles on his aircraft had not yet had a chance to be launched..."

"Damn it!" Saddam cursed. "Dassault's fighter jets are just so unreliable. We shouldn't have bought these outdated planes in the first place. The radar is short-sighted, and the missiles are short-legged! If these planes are destroyed, so be it, we'll just keep buying fighter jets from the East to replace them!"

Adnan finally breathed a sigh of relief.

In fact, this really shows how unreliable the Mirage F1 fighter jet was. If it were a combination of J-8 and Super-7, at least they could launch the first wave of attacks from a long distance, and then use the Super-7 to engage in medium and close-range dogfights after closing in, instead of turning into this one-sided situation...

"Our Scud missile modification plant was also bombed..."

"What?" Shadama's face immediately darkened. "Those damned Lang Tuo! They actually dared to attack our missile modification factory! We still need to go to the East and see when their newly designed missiles will be ready. The range needs to be at least a thousand kilometers so that we can deploy them in our rear..."

Saddam paced back and forth, looking distressed, and then said, "We have to protest! We have to protest to the French! Their fighter jets are too incompetent; they can't protect our key targets!"

Dassault Systèmes, France.

“Hmph, our Mirage fighter jet is one of the most advanced aircraft in the world… but…” Marcel Dassault gritted his teeth: “The Mirage F1 is only a second-generation aircraft after all. If we replaced it with our Mirage 2000, the situation would definitely not be like this.”

Dassault will never admit defeat! Their fighter jets are state-of-the-art; if they suffer a defeat on the battlefield, it's definitely not a problem with the aircraft, but rather with the users!
Seeing his father's anger, Sergey Dassault spoke up: "Yes, Father, this failure cannot be blamed on our aircraft being too bad. Most of the planes were destroyed on the ground. It's like when the war just started, the Tomcat fighters were bombed on the ground. Can you say the Tomcat fighters were bad? It's because the best pilots of Langtuo are all in prison!"

Sergey Dassault's words did nothing to comfort Marcel Dassault; instead, he looked at him with cold eyes: "Lan Tuo is because it lacks excellent pilots, but what about Yi Tuo?"

"The best pilots from Izvestia have all gone to fly the J-8 and Super-7. The pilots from Izvestia who flew the Mirage F1 were so bad that the entire force was wiped out!"

“Yes, that’s it…” Marcel Dassault finally found a reason, but he still felt uncomfortable. All the excellent pilots went to fly fighter jets in the East, which meant that in Yi Tuo’s mind, the J-8 and Super-7 were better than the Mirage F1!
"Report! People from Yituo have arrived!"

The diplomat from Yituo walked into Dassault's headquarters with a grim expression.

"Your Mirage F1 aircraft are of such poor performance that they caused the destruction of our base and fleet, and our factory was also bombed!"

"Mr. Jimam, this is slander. Your pilots are clearly incompetent and poorly trained. How can you blame our plane? If it were our French pilots..."

Before Sergey Dassault could finish speaking, Jimam on the other side roared.

"Is that so? Does it make sense for your best pilots to fly? Can your pilots attack enemy aircraft from a distance of 100 kilometers? Our pilots have already flown to a position 30 kilometers away from the target, but unfortunately, there is still no chance to launch because that damned Matra Super 530 missile's effective range is still only 20 kilometers!"

Jimam was furious at Dassault's attempt to shift the blame: "Tell me, how can a Mirage aircraft carrying missiles with an effective range of only 20 kilometers take down an aircraft that can fire at us from 100 kilometers away? Don't even mention the missile's poor maneuverability; even with only 17G of overload, it's still more maneuverable than the Mirage aircraft, which has less than 8G of overload!"

Jimam was there to cause trouble, and now that Dassault wants to shift the blame, he certainly won't accept it.

The meeting room fell silent instantly.

Not only did Igor cancel the subsequent Mirage F1 orders, but he also didn't want the MiG-25. The key issue they raised at the Mikoyan Design Bureau in Moscow was having missiles with sufficient range, but the Russians didn't have any either!

How could France have something that even the Russians don't have? A missile with a maximum range of 40 kilometers and an effective range of 20 kilometers simply cannot gain an advantage in air combat.

"So what do you want?"

"It's all because the Mirage F1's performance is too poor, and the missiles it carries are too inadequate, which led to the bombing of our air force base, the destruction of our fighter jets, and the destruction of many factories. Therefore, you must compensate us!"

Upon hearing this, Sergey Dassault became furious: "That's impossible! It's clearly because your pilots are so incompetent that we suffered this loss. How dare you try to extort us!"

Looking at the whole world, even if the fighter jets are sold and the aircraft are at a disadvantage on the battlefield, not a single customer will cause trouble for the fighter jet supplier!
This is definitely extortion!

"Hmph, your Dassault Aviation sells inferior fighter jets with inferior missiles, and you don't even want to pay compensation? We'll let the whole world know how lousy the Mirage F1 is!"

Jimam's attitude was very tough: if you don't provide compensation, then we'll spread the word all over the world how terrible your planes are!
"You can't do this. This is slander and spreading rumors. If it damages the reputation of Dassault's fighter jets and affects our orders, we will use legal means to protect our rights!"

"Hmph, your fighter jets are so bad, and you won't even let us talk about it?" Jimam said. "We've already contacted dozens of European media outlets to come to our site, to see the devastation of our base being bombed, and to hear our lone hero personally recount how useless these fighter jets are!"

"Then what do you want?"

"We don't need several times the compensation, but we must get a full refund for this batch of Mirage F1 fighter jets!"

"That's impossible!"

"Hmph, then we'll go and promote it internationally."

"How about this: the payment for the Mirage F1 can be used as payment for your new order of Mirage 2000s, still 36 aircraft. What do you think?"

In this way, even if the Mirage 2000 makes less money, it can still be profitable, and it can also maintain Dassault's image in the international arms market.

Jimam shook his head: "No, we will not continue to purchase Dassault fighter jets!"

Marcel's face darkened. These guys were trying to extort money from Dassault Aviation so they could go to the East to buy even more advanced fighter jets! No way, they absolutely couldn't agree to that!

　PS: Matra Super 530 missile.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)