Sometimes, the new aspects of aerial combat can be exceptionally visible but only for a couple of minutes. One such example occurred in 2013 over the Persian Gulf, where an encounter between two Iranian F-4 Phantom fighter jets and a single F-22 Raptor, the most advanced and deadly aircraft of the U.S. Air Force, took place unexpectedly. Without any fighting or hostilities, the event turned a regular patrol into a performance of the disappearing and high-tech capabilities.
It began with an MQ-1 Predator drone conducting its mission in international airspace, 16 miles off the coast of Iran. To the two Phantom pilots who had detected it, the slow, unarmed drone was a tempting target.
The Phantom, which in the 1960s had been the symbol of American aviation excellence, was no longer the future of flight, but it was still more than enough to shoot down such a target. What the pilots did not realize was that Lt. Col. Kevin “Showtime” Sutterfield was within eyesight, piloting an F-22 Raptor undetectable to their radar.
The Raptor crept closer stealthily, flying under the Phantoms until Sutterfield was close enough to examine their planes up close with his own eyes. In a scene out of a movie, he slid past the front plane—close enough to look in the cockpit—before activating his radio.
“You really oughta go home,” he said matter-of-factly. That did it. The dynamic was suddenly reversed. The Raptor had all the advantage, and the Phantom crews well knew it. Without a struggle, they retreated.
That brief conversation told us all about the F-22’s real potential. It’s not another fighter plane—it’s a completely different style of dominating the skies. Its stealth capabilities, razor-sharp angles, and cutting-edge sensors provide it with the power to suddenly materialize out of thin air, dictate the terms of engagement, and then disappear into thin air without ever being seen.
To that, add its thrust-vectoring engines and supersonic cruise capability without the use of afterburners, and the Raptor is not only stealthy, but quicker and more agile than almost anything currently in the air.
For Iran, the meeting was a grim reminder of the weakness of its Phantom fleet. Those planes, which were delivered in the late 1960s and early 1970s, were state-of-the-art when they arrived. Decades of ingenuity—improvisational fixes, replacement parts, and upgrades—have sustained them since.
But even the finest refits can’t hide the reality that they are products of an earlier era of flight. They were born during an era when stealth existed only as a concept and well before pilots were able to depend on integrated computer screens within helmets.
The tiny Gulf crisis was not just a mere mention in history; it demonstrated how the difference between the machines of the past and the stealth jets of today was still very great. The real power of the Raptor was not its high speed or a large amount of ammo—that was its domination of the scene on a psychological level before the opposing side ever got it. That psychological assault, which is just as fatal as any rock, can be.
To the army chiefs, the lesson is clear: the greatest force is being able to set the fighting rules way before the enemy understands. That time over the Gulf, Sutterfield’s low-key “You really oughta go home” was more than a rebuke. It was a message to every pilot who was in old machines flying a new battlefield: sometimes, the most powerful strike is the one that you never want to do.