The Last Hog: Inside Stormglass and the Battle to Retire the A-10

In the classified corridors of a base that does not appear on maps, a war is being fought over an aircraft older than most of its pilots. The A-10 Thunderbolt II, affectionately known as the “Warthog,” has survived wars, budget cuts, and technology revolutions. But in 2025, it faces its most insidious enemy yet: a coalition of strategists, contractors, and policy-makers who believe the Hog’s time has run out.

What follows is the story of Stormglass, the Pentagon’s covert program to decide the fate of the Hog — and of one pilot, Major Holt, who refused to let the machine be buried quietly.

Stormglass: A Base Without a Name

Buried beneath the barren expanse of New Mexico desert lies Stormglass, a listening post built during the Cold War and resurrected for a different kind of conflict. Its mission: not to fight enemies abroad, but to measure, dismantle, and ultimately erase the A-10 from the future force.

The program’s documents speak in sterile language: “capability sunset,” “operational redundancy,” and “risk mitigation.” But to those inside, it feels less like analysis and more like execution by paperwork.

“They didn’t want tests,” said one contractor who worked on the program, speaking on condition of anonymity. “They wanted a verdict. And the verdict was: the Hog dies.”

The Machine That Refused to Die

The A-10 was never beautiful. With its straight wings, oversized cannon, and lumbering frame, the jet was mocked when it first rolled off Fairchild’s assembly line in the 1970s. Yet in Afghanistan and Iraq, it earned a reputation as the one aircraft soldiers trusted when everything else failed.

“It’s ugly,” one mechanic recalled. “But it comes home with holes no other bird would survive. It’s stubborn survival with wings.”

By 2024, most of the fleet was older than its pilots. Paint peeled. Frames creaked. Yet the Hog continued to fly. And that persistence was what unsettled Stormglass the most.

The Black Valley Test

The heart of Stormglass was a proving ground known only as the Black Valley. Here, the A-10 was flown against drones, electronic warfare, and new missile systems designed to prove its obsolescence.

On paper, the tests were objective. In reality, insiders claim they were scripted.

“They stacked the deck,” said one former test officer. “The Hog was sent into scenarios no aircraft could survive. Then they’d write, ‘ineffective against modern threats.’ It was theater.”

But the Hog refused to die on cue. One leaked after-action report, dated April 2024, describes how an A-10, flown by Major Holt, destroyed five unmanned armor units despite electronic jamming and simulated GPS loss.

The final line of the report is redacted.

Major Holt and the Oath

Holt, 38, flew combat tours over Afghanistan and Syria. He lost two friends in aircraft he still describes as “too fragile for the fight.” For him, the A-10 was more than metal. It was a covenant.

“You don’t calculate this,” Holt told this reporter in a rare on-the-record exchange. “It’s not numbers on a chart. It’s about who comes home.”

Stormglass saw him differently — as a liability. In leaked internal emails, one colonel refers to Holt as “the Hog’s preacher” and suggests reassigning him “before sentiment interferes with data.”

The Hunt Begins

By late 2024, the program’s tone shifted. Stormglass was no longer about tests. It was about containment. Holt was quietly grounded. Rumors spread of surveillance on mechanics and maintainers who spoke out.

Yet Holt continued to fly, unofficially, in what sources described as “midnight runs.” One of those flights — a test against live-fire drones — reportedly ended with Holt transmitting a single message before comms went dark:

“This isn’t war anymore. It’s the hunt.”

The Hog returned the next morning, riddled with holes but still airborne.

What Stormglass Means

Officially, Stormglass does not exist. The Air Force maintains its position that the A-10 will be retired by the end of the decade. But documents, testimonies, and flight data reviewed for this investigation suggest otherwise: the Hog is not fading quietly. It is being erased — aggressively, deliberately, and perhaps illegally.

For those who believe in the aircraft, the fight is not about nostalgia. It is about trust.

“The Hog makes promises no other jet can,” said a soldier who once called an A-10 in for cover in Afghanistan. “It promises we won’t be left to die. You don’t kill that. You honor it.”

Epilogue

Stormglass remains operational as of this writing. Major Holt’s current status is unknown. The Hog still flies over deserts and forests, carrying scars from wars past.

Whether it will survive the war being fought in boardrooms and think tanks is another matter.

But in the words of one Stormglass insider:

“Every time the Hog takes off, it writes its own obituary — and then refuses to die.”