2 Israeli F-4s vs 28 Egyptian MiGs - The Fight that Changed the World

On the revered day of Yom Kippur,  October 6, 1973, a date marked by divine sanctity in Judaism, tranquility  was shattered by the fangs of deception. After weaving a web of diplomatic pleasantries, Egypt unfurled its covert strategy, launching  a colossal surprise attack against a completely unprepared Israel. Their celebrations abruptly  morphed into a frenzied struggle for survival.

A dark, ominous cloud of over 200 Egyptian  aircraft shadowed the Israeli skies, heralding the storm to come. The unsuspecting  Israeli Air Force Base Ofir at Sharm el-Sheikh found itself targeted by a lethal enemy  formation - 20 MiG-17s and eight MiG-21s, creeping over the horizon with a single, merciless  objective - to eradicate the military stronghold. Israel, grappling with the sudden  ambush and ignorant of the enemy’s overwhelming numerical superiority,  retaliated in the only way it could.

They rapidly mobilized two F-4E Phantom II  fighter jets, challenging the 28 menacing MiGs looming above. As the Israeli defenders  ascended, cresting the cloud barrier, they were met with a chilling spectacle - a sea  of adversaries ready to engage them in battle. Faced with overwhelming odds, the two  courageous pilots, instead of recoiling, displayed unshakeable resolve.

Disregarding their safety, they jettisoned their  external fuel tanks, boldly engaging the swarm of enemy warplanes in a spectacular aerial duel. Their selfless actions, an immortal testament to bravery, would forever imprint their  names in the archives of modern warfare… LOGO Intrigue and Betrayal It was the early 1970s, the Cold War era.  The world was split into two hemispheres: the East, under the influence  of the USSR, and the West, helmed by the United States.

With its  strategic significance and rich oil reserves, the Middle East had become a  chessboard in this global game of power. After the Six-Day War of 1967, Israel held  the Golan Heights, the Sinai Peninsula, the Gaza Strip, and the West Bank. The  world was watching an ascending Israel, and many Arab states, still  reeling from their defeat, sought a way to restore their lost dignity.

Egypt  and Syria were at the forefront of these nations; their desire for revenge simmered beneath  the surface, waiting for the right moment. It was in the heart of Cairo where the grand  scheme began. The charismatic Egyptian President, Anwar Sadat, known for his  bold and audacious plans, was the mastermind.

Tired of the stalemate  and covertly encouraged by the Soviets, he began to plan a surprise attack on Israel. He  knew a direct confrontation was too dangerous; instead, he envisioned a grand deception, a  plan that would lead to the Yom Kippur War. To this end, Sadat cunningly masked his  intentions by initiating peace overtures with Israel while embarking on a massive military  buildup funded by rich Arab states and armed by the Soviets.

Simultaneously, he kicked out  Soviet advisors from Egypt, thereby successfully creating a façade of distancing from the USSR  and appearing less threatening to the Israelis. Syria, under Hafez al-Assad, was equally hungry  for retaliation. They joined forces with Egypt, secretly mobilizing troops and resources. 

They adopted a strategic depth approach, setting up dummy defense lines to mislead  Israeli reconnaissance. Meanwhile, their actual attacking forces  were hidden behind these decoys. As plans progressed, Sadat decided the  attack would coincide with Yom Kippur, the holiest day in Judaism, when Israel would  be at its most vulnerable, observing a fast with businesses and the military at a near  standstill.

The date was set; October 6, 1973. Despite intelligence suggesting  unusual military activity, Israel was deceived. The Egyptian  and Syrian misinformation campaign, coupled with a certain level of Israeli  overconfidence stemming from their quick victory in the Six-Day War, led to a failure  to perceive the imminence of the attack.

Just days before the planned attack, Ashraf  Marwan, a high-ranking Egyptian official and son-in-law of former Egyptian President Gamal  Abdel Nasser turned double agent for Israel, delivered the warning to Israeli intelligence. But the message came too late and was  too ambiguous. The risk of full-scale mobilization based on uncertain intelligence  was deemed too high, leading to indecisiveness.

Thus, with the stage set, the clock ticking, and the pieces in place, the stage  was set for the Yom Kippur War. Flight 114 As the wheel of fate turned, the blame for the mounting  hostility in the Middle East didn’t entirely rest upon the shoulders  of the Muslim nations, even Egypt. Israel, too, had played its part in stoking  the fiery cauldron of conflict that would soon boil over into the Yom Kippur War. 

The unfortunate incident of Libyan Arab Airlines Flight 114 served as a key  accelerant in the escalating tension. On February 21, 1973, a commercial  Libyan jet unknowingly trespassed into the contested skies above the  Sinai Peninsula, an area then under Israeli control following the Six-Day War  of 1967. A devastating blend of technical failure and a blinding sandstorm had led the  airliner astray from its designated route.

Responding to the unidentified encroachment, the Israeli Air Force launched two  F-4 Phantom jets. The pilots tried communicating with the lost commercial  airliner, signaling it to land. However, the signals seemingly fell on confused ears aboard  Flight 114, which remained on its trajectory.

Left with no other option and  fearing a security breach, the Israeli pilots executed their  orders, shooting the airliner down. The grim aftermath saw 108 innocent  lives lost, leaving only five survivors. The international community’s outcry compounded  the echo of the explosion.

The incident painted a target on Israel, casting it as a belligerent  player with little respect for international law. The wave of condemnation stretched beyond the Arab  world, fueling the region’s smoldering tension. Bracing for Impact This catastrophe played right into the hands of Egyptian President Anwar  Sadat.

It added credibility to his narrative of Israeli aggression and justified  the need for military counteraction. Using this incident, Sadat garnered support  from fellow Arab nations and the Soviet Union for his intended retaliation against Israel.  The raw anguish and cries for vengeance among the Egyptian people empowered Sadat to rally the  masses in preparation for the forthcoming war.

Anticipating reprisal, the Israel Air Force High  Command fortified their defenses, keeping fighter aircraft on quick reaction alert at Ofir base  under the resolute leadership of Ya’acov ‘Yak’ Nevo. This protective mantle was also aimed at  neutralizing threats from Egyptian MiGs towards the Israeli Navy Red Sea flotilla and the Hawk  missile batteries guarding the Red Sea straits. On October 6, 1973, the sacred day of Yom Kippur, war eclipsed the Israeli skies.

The Ofir  base, housing a mere pair of IAF 107 F-4E Phantoms and their relatively  inexperienced crew was on high alert. The day’s calm was pierced by a red  alert in the morning, followed by a chilling siren at 1:50 pm. When the controller  hesitated to act on incoming radar signals, pilot Amir Nahumi took the reigns, swiftly  launching their jets into the hostile skies.

They had no idea what they were up against,  how many warplanes, or what armament they had, but they were the last line of defense,  and they were not about to stand down. Nahumi’s haunting recollection  painted a vivid picture: (QUOTE) “I decided to take off, and seconds later, the runway was bombed. Had we waited any  longer, we would have been unable to do so.

There were seven four-ship  formations of MiG-17s and MiG-21s. ” The story of these pilots is a grim  testimony to the high-stakes dance of war, where timing and bravery make all the difference. Aerial Clash for the Ages The skies roared into life as the MiGs initiated their vicious assault,  bombs raining on the airbase like hail in a thunderstorm.

Sensing the imminent  danger, Nahumi issued a stern command to Shaki: discard the extra weight of their  detachable fuel tanks, divide, and conquer. Shaki would head west while Nahumi bolted  east, each facing their destiny head-on. Like a bird of prey, Nahumi unleashed the fiery  wrath of a Sidewinder missile, obliterating a MiG in an explosion that lit up the evening  sky.

However, the threat was far from over. Two MiGs swooped down on the base, leaving  Nahumi in their lethal wake. The base’s MIM-23 Hawk battery held fire, refusing to risk  the lives of its airborne allies.

The MiGs took advantage of this self-imposed silence,  diving to annihilate the defenseless battery. Nahumi sprang into action, chasing  the leading MiG through the swirling dust and smoke. His aircraft skimmed the  ground as he fired his M61 Gatling gun, yet the MiG evaded, its bombing mission aborted.

A sudden jolt shook Nahumi’s plane -  a compressor stall in the left engine, likely from a cannon burst. However,  Nahumi was a fighter and a survivor. Temporarily on a single engine,  he struggled but regained control, cleverly using the distraction to  attack the second MiG’s vulnerable tail.

They played a high-speed game of chicken,  Nahumi pulling up to face his adversary, a split-second decision resulting  in another enemy downed, a fiery trail marking its downfall.  The surviving MiG fled in panic. Soaring into the next skirmish, Nahumi  spotted a pair of MiG-17s laying siege to a vital communications unit near the bay. 

Startled by Nahumi’s unexpected presence, one panicked MiG fired its  air-to-surface missiles; a futile effort swiftly ended as Nahumi  struck it down from 600 meters. Meanwhile, Shaki, with three victories to his name, found  himself in the crosshairs of attacking MiG-21s. One desperate enemy plunged towards  the sea at a death-defying speed, bouncing off the water’s surface before  escaping.

With fuel reserves dwindling, Shaki made the tough call to  land on the scarred runway. Just as Nahumi took a moment to  draw breath, a dazzling flare of light momentarily blinded him - another  pair of MiGs, desperate to break away. Quick as a viper, Nahumi struck down one  with the scant fuel left in his reserves.

The other veered away, seeking solace in the  jagged embrace of the mountains below. Nahumi, his fighter flirting dangerously with an empty  tank, had no choice but to abandon the chase. Each thunderous heartbeat of the aerial  showdown had rattled the two pilots to their core.

The engagement had stretched  out into what felt like a timeless ordeal, their hearts pounding with a  ferocity they had never experienced. Yet, when the dust settled, they had decimated  seven Egyptian MiGs in a span of less than six minutes. It was an extraordinary feat that  sent the surviving enemy aircraft into retreat, beating a hasty path back to the  relative safety of Egyptian airspace.

Aftershock Nahumi and Shaki, having navigated the tempest of aerial warfare,  touched down on a parallel runway. Shorter and less marred by the wrath of conflict,  it offered them a haven amid the chaos. Once grounded, they readied their fighters  for another anticipated Egyptian attack, a sequel that ultimately never unfolded. 

Their actions, marked by valor and defiance against insurmountable odds, earned  them the Distinguished Service Medal. The tale recounted by the Israeli pilots  and corroborated by the remnants of the battle etched a narrative widely  accepted as the official chronicle of the Ofira Air Battle. However,  bearing the sting of humiliation, the Egyptian authorities repudiated the Israeli  account, a stance they uphold to this day.

From the Egyptian vantage point, the Ras  Nasrani Air Base - as the Israelis called Ofir - was indeed targeted during their  air strike on October 6. This operation saw the deployment of approximately 220 aircraft. MiG-21 jets escorted the MiG-17s in the  airstrike against Ras Nasrani.

These were part of the No. 25 Squadron  of the EAF’s 102nd Air Wing. The MiG-21s, however, abstained  from engaging in ground assault, and according to their pilots, they  never encountered any aerial resistance.

In stark contrast to the weighty  losses reported by the Israeli side, Egyptian military leaders posited  a far less severe narrative. Egyptian Chief of Staff Saad El Shazly,  and commander Abdel Ghani el-Gamasy, among others, reported a mere five aircraft  lost in the initial stages of the conflict. Another source acknowledged  the loss of seven aircraft to Israeli fighters and several  more to anti-aircraft artillery, muddling the sequence of events even more,  at least from the Egyptian perspective.

Yet, the compelling notion of a pair of  F-4 Phantom II jets squaring off against an imposing enemy force and not merely surviving but  dealing a crippling blow is an irresistible story.