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Thank you for the story.

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@sparkvark


I’m pretty sure that the F-15 that almost lit you up was one of mine ?????


7440th Combat Squadron, JTF Proven Force (525 Bulldogs out of Bitburg)

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I need to get some of my 35mm pics from the Highway to Hell scanned. And some oil well fire pics. Have 2 or 3 where my Humvee is parked and 3 oil well fires are blazing in the background.

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Well technically this does qualify as a Desert storm military story mission.

I was at Navy boot in orlando during DS. Once or twice a week I designed and spearheaded a night time mission.

The plans where pretty laid out and tested over a few nights. First I would go around and collect change from other recruits who where interested in seeing the mission a success. I would collect the change and what they wanted from the soda and candy machine at the medical area about 1/3 mile from our barracks. Upon the rounds of the building watches checking on our fire watch, I would sneak out the out side stairs and run to the Medical area.

Dress for the mission was the issue navy blue sweats turned inside out to hide the huge white Navy on the chest. I would skirt the perimeter fence which both the barracks and medical area where against and so avoid any roving patrols on the roads. There was a small road along the fence wide enough for a vehicle, but at 2130 hours no one was ever on it.

Upon arriving at the medical complex I would confirm there was no one doing a patrol and I would infiltrate the second floor where there was a candy and soda machine right next to each other. I went for the high ground incase a patrol did come by I could see them better and hide from them at ground level.

I found out while at A school on the other side of NAS orlando that there was never any watches on the roads or in the medical area.

I would upon successful invasion of the medical area feed change in to the soda and candy machine as fast as possible while making selections of what the orders where for. Upon retrieval of all of the requested items I would shove them in a my laundry bag and retreat back to the barracks returning on the same path I took there.

Upon return at the barracks I would get everyone who wanted something and we would go in the class room and enjoy a sugar rush of treats we where not allowed to have otherwise.

The part of this that drive me nuts in hindsight was once we where senior enough and started doing the quarter deck watch for the building I found out there was soda and candy machine in the building. And it took just offering to buy the 2 watches there a snickers to split I did not have to run close to mile at night and risk getting caught. But the adrenaline rush, and the fact that I charged a small commission so all my soda and candy was free really made it worth it at the time.

I post this not to make fun of the vets who actually were in harms way, but to kind of make fun at myself and what my DS experience was. Plus have a little fun trying to be creative in how I wrote this up, the story is 100% true thou.

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NEW STORY

 Desert Storm has been going on for a month.  At this point I have flow 18 or so missions into Iraq.  All at night.  I would get up around 1700 and get ready for my mission.  I would take my truck, collect my flight member and head over to the squadron and see what the targets were for the attack.  After talking with the mission planners, I would go over to maintenance and see what the status of our aircraft was.  After talking with my crew chief, it was time to find something to eat then go back to the squadron.  The rest of the evening would be final planning, a main mission brief and then individual formation briefs.  We would step to the aircraft around 2230 for taxi and takeoff between 2330 to 0000.  Tonight’s target is a refinery and oil storage facility north of Bagdad.  Fifty aircraft including 18 F-111Es and 10 B-52’s are the attack aircraft tonight.  Each F-111 is carrying 32 Mark 82 500lb bombs and the B-52’s are loaded with 70,000lbs of general-purpose bombs.  We will hit the target with a little over 1,000,000lbs of ordinance. Big Bada Boom.

    My wing man and I arrived on station about 10 minutes before the attack begins. I have a 4 ship of F-4G Wild Weasels with me.  They are about 20 miles away in a holding orbit waiting for the show to begin.  My job to screen the attack force from 2 different SAM (Surface to Air Missile) sites.  The Weasels are the ambush.  If a site shoots a SAM at me I will do my best to avoid it and the Weasels will attack it with a HARM (High speed Anti-Radiation Missile).  

    Showtime!  The bombs start to fall.  The scene is difficult to describe.  It is medieval.  Like something out of Dante’s Infernal.  Each B-52’s bombs fall in a box that is 2000 feet wide and 6000 feet long.  Over one hundred 500lbs bombs in each of those boxes.  And there are 10 of these boxes overlapping each other.  Add to that is the 18 F-111’s 32 bombs and it is quite the show. Besides the primary explosions from the bombs there are secondary explosions from all the oil tanks.  There is smoke and fire everywhere.  Now let’s add the AA (Antiaircraft) fire to the mix.  Imagine every 4th of July fireworks display you have ever seen and add them all together.  Then imagine all of that going off continuously for at least an hour.  That doesn’t even come close to describing it.  Tracer fire everywhere.

    Let’s get back to the SAMs.  My EWO (Electronic Warfare Officer) and I have been putting up an electronic shield to provide some protection to the attack force so now they turn their attention to us.  My EWO callsign “Monkey Boy” says “Smoke” (that’s me) “I think one of the SAMs search radars is looking for us.”  Now the game is afoot.  I have an array of electronic equipment available to me and I start listening and looking for the site.  From my Intelligence Briefing I have an exceptionally good idea where the site is.  After about 2 minutes my RHAW (Radar Homing And Warning) receiver (Think of it as a very smart car radar detector) starts to light up.  It’s telling me a SAM radar is looking at me.    Years of training are paying off.  Our squadron Intel Officer insisted we spend time studying about each potential threat.  The primary threat tonight is a SA-3.  It’s a well-known and respected threat.  I can route the raw audio from the ALQ-99's receiver antenna array into my comm system.  I can listen to the sounds of the SAM search radar looking for us.  It makes a unique sound as it searches for us.  About 90 seconds later all hell breaks loose.  I got a Missile Alert warning from my RHAW followed shortly by a Missile Launch Warning.  I look towards the site, and I can see the exhaust from a missile launch.  What would be your first thought if this happened to you?  My first thought was not that I was being shot at.  Intel told us each missile had a distinct colored exhaust.  I can remember my first thoughts being, damn she was right, it really is that color!  I made a radio call.  “Ghost Lead is engaged SA3 3 o’clock.” (My Callsign for that night was Ghost) That tells everyone that I am in a fight for my life and get the hell out of my way.  I start a defensive maneuver designed to make the missile lose track of me.  As I start this dance I punch out two bundles of chaff (bundles of aluminum foil designed to confuse the SAMs radar.) every time I change the flight vector of my plane.  I make sure that my ECM (Electronic Counter Measures) equipment is on.  It is designed to try to trick the SAMs radar and cause the missile to miss me (I hope).  

    Now we spring the ambush.  As soon as the SAM targets me with his radar the Weasels detect it and start their death dance.  While I am in the middle of my defensive maneuver, I hear the word “Magnum” called twice.  That means the Weasels have fired two HARMs at the SAM site.  I take some satisfaction in this knowing that the folks on the ground are going to see Allah shortly.  While this is happening, I am continuing with my maneuvers.  Since I am writing this, I lived to fight another day.  After the missile overshot me I rolled wings level and took a few moments.  Anyone who has been in a firefight or any high stress situation will understand this.  This first thing you do is a self-check.  Am I ok?  Yep, everything appears to be working.  I look over to Monkey Boy, “ you ok Jeff?”  He’s fine.  How about the aircraft, is it ok?  A quick scan of the instruments, fuel, hydraulics, and oil quantity, yep, they are all good. WHERE THE FUCK AM I!  For the last several minutes my world has been the missile and me.  I could tell you I was most likely in Iraq but that’s about it.  Ok, I got my bearings and figured out my position.  Now where is the fight?  I orient myself quickly and started heading back that way.  As we headed back Monkey Boy says to me, “they’re dead.”  I asked his how he was so sure about that.  I as had been trying to keep us alive he had been listening to the WW EWO’s talking over the radio.  He got a hack on his stopwatch when the HARM’s were launched.  He said that when the time of flight of the missile was over the radars went off the air.  Serves them right for shooting at us!  They rest of the mission was less eventful and after all the attack aircraft had safely left the area, we started back toward Incirlik, Turkey.  We were “First in Last out” so everyone was back before we landed.  Our Chaplain would welcome everyone home and pass out beers.  It would be either a one or two beer mission.  Tonight, he gave me three beers and I got a very personal welcome home.  We debriefed, ate breakfast and went to bed around 0600.  

   That was a brief description of a typical combat mission during Desert Storm.  

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NEW STORY

 Desert Storm has been going on for a month.  At this point I have flow 18 or so missions into Iraq.  All at night.  I would get up around 1700 and get ready for my mission.  I would take my truck, collect my flight member and head over to the squadron and see what the targets were for the attack.  After talking with the mission planners, I would go over to maintenance and see what the status of our aircraft was.  After talking with my crew chief, it was time to find something to eat then go back to the squadron.  The rest of the evening would be final planning, a main mission brief and then individual formation briefs.  We would step to the aircraft around 2230 for taxi and takeoff between 2330 to 0000.  Tonight’s target is a refinery and oil storage facility north of Bagdad.  Fifty aircraft including 18 F-111Es and 10 B-52’s are the attack aircraft tonight.  Each F-111 is carrying 32 Mark 82 500lb bombs and the B-52’s are loaded with 70,000lbs of general-purpose bombs.  We will hit the target with a little over 1,000,000lbs of ordinance. Big Bada Boom.

    My wing man and I arrived on station about 10 minutes before the attack begins. I have a 4 ship of F-4G Wild Weasels with me.  They are about 20 miles away in a holding orbit waiting for the show to begin.  My job to screen the attack force from 2 different SAM (Surface to Air Missile) sites.  The Weasels are the ambush.  If a site shoots a SAM at me I will do my best to avoid it and the Weasels will attack it with a HARM (High speed Anti-Radiation Missile).  

    Showtime!  The bombs start to fall.  The scene is difficult to describe.  It is medieval.  Like something out of Dante’s Infernal.  Each B-52’s bombs fall in a box that is 2000 feet wide and 6000 feet long.  Over one hundred 500lbs bombs in each of those boxes.  And there are 10 of these boxes overlapping each other.  Add to that is the 18 F-111’s 32 bombs and it is quite the show. Besides the primary explosions from the bombs there are secondary explosions from all the oil tanks.  There is smoke and fire everywhere.  Now let’s add the AA (Antiaircraft) fire to the mix.  Imagine every 4th of July fireworks display you have ever seen and add them all together.  Then imagine all of that going off continuously for at least an hour.  That doesn’t even come close to describing it.  Tracer fire everywhere.

    Let’s get back to the SAMs.  My EWO (Electronic Warfare Officer) and I have been putting up an electronic shield to provide some protection to the attack force so now they turn their attention to us.  My EWO callsign “Monkey Boy” says “Smoke” (that’s me) “I think one of the SAMs search radars is looking for us.”  Now the game is afoot.  I have an array of electronic equipment available to me and I start listening and looking for the site.  From my Intelligence Briefing I have an exceptionally good idea where the site is.  After about 2 minutes my RHAW (Radar Homing And Warning) receiver (Think of it as a very smart car radar detector) starts to light up.  It’s telling me a SAM radar is looking at me.    Years of training are paying off.  Our squadron Intel Officer insisted we spend time studying about each potential threat.  The primary threat tonight is a SA-3.  It’s a well-known and respected threat.  I can route the raw audio from the ALQ-99's receiver antenna array into my comm system.  I can listen to the sounds of the SAM search radar looking for us.  It makes a unique sound as it searches for us.  About 90 seconds later all hell breaks loose.  I got a Missile Alert warning from my RHAW followed shortly by a Missile Launch Warning.  I look towards the site, and I can see the exhaust from a missile launch.  What would be your first thought if this happened to you?  My first thought was not that I was being shot at.  Intel told us each missile had a distinct colored exhaust.  I can remember my first thoughts being, damn she was right, it really is that color!  I made a radio call.  “Ghost Lead is engaged SA3 3 o’clock.” (My Callsign for that night was Ghost) That tells everyone that I am in a fight for my life and get the hell out of my way.  I start a defensive maneuver designed to make the missile lose track of me.  As I start this dance I punch out two bundles of chaff (bundles of aluminum foil designed to confuse the SAMs radar.) every time I change the flight vector of my plane.  I make sure that my ECM (Electronic Counter Measures) equipment is on.  It is designed to try to trick the SAMs radar and cause the missile to miss me (I hope).  

    Now we spring the ambush.  As soon as the SAM targets me with his radar the Weasels detect it and start their death dance.  While I am in the middle of my defensive maneuver, I hear the word “Magnum” called twice.  That means the Weasels have fired two HARMs at the SAM site.  I take some satisfaction in this knowing that the folks on the ground are going to see Allah shortly.  While this is happening, I am continuing with my maneuvers.  Since I am writing this, I lived to fight another day.  After the missile overshot me I rolled wings level and took a few moments.  Anyone who has been in a firefight or any high stress situation will understand this.  This first thing you do is a self-check.  Am I ok?  Yep, everything appears to be working.  I look over to Monkey Boy, “ you ok Jeff?”  He’s fine.  How about the aircraft, is it ok?  A quick scan of the instruments, fuel, hydraulics, and oil quantity, yep, they are all good. WHERE THE FUCK AM I!  For the last several minutes my world has been the missile and me.  I could tell you I was most likely in Iraq but that’s about it.  Ok, I got my bearings and figured out my position.  Now where is the fight?  I orient myself quickly and started heading back that way.  As we headed back Monkey Boy says to me, “they’re dead.”  I asked his how he was so sure about that.  I as had been trying to keep us alive he had been listening to the WW EWO’s talking over the radio.  He got a hack on his stopwatch when the HARM’s were launched.  He said that when the time of flight of the missile was over the radars went off the air.  Serves them right for shooting at us!  They rest of the mission was less eventful and after all the attack aircraft had safely left the area, we started back toward Incirlik, Turkey.  We were “First in Last out” so everyone was back before we landed.  Our Chaplain would welcome everyone home and pass out beers.  It would be either a one or two beer mission.  Tonight, he gave me three beers and I got a very personal welcome home.  We debriefed, ate breakfast and went to bed around 0600.  

   That was a brief description of a typical combat mission during Desert Storm.  

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Do you remember where the Buffs were from?  That really sounds like one of the missions I flew.  The northern target missions were about 18 hours long for us, so they were very memorable.  I was on the Operations Planning Team (planned all the missions) so we only got to fly every 5 days or so.  The two I remember best were a bomb storage area down south that we hit with a 12 ship (talk about fireworks!) and another POL facility northeast of Baghdad.  I wish I’d kept some of the mission set up sheets, but everything got burned before we left Diego Garcia.  Oh, I did get to fly the last bomber off Diego in May.  That is another story that can only be told in the abstract since the Thai’s may still be mad at us.

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Sparkvark,

Did you know the EF-111 crew who unofficially scored an air-to-air kill?

[b]
15 yrs later meet up in Ramadi Iraq
https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/367483/Bro_shot_15_yrs_later_in_Ramadi-3099309.png

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I posted a pic earlier but here are a few more.
https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/304989/Apache_flyby_JPG-3100030.JPG
https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/304989/M1A1s_on_the_roll_JPG-3100031.JPG
https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/304989/fresh_haircut_JPG-3100033.JPG
https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/304989/Highway_of_Death_2_JPG-3100035.JPG
https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/304989/Highway_of_Death_1_JPG-3100038.JPG
https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/304989/my_2_buds_JPG-3100040.JPG
https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/304989/camels_from_nowhere_JPG-3100041.JPG
https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/304989/camel_owner_JPG-3100045.JPG
https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/304989/R_R_by_the_fire_pit_JPG-3100046.JPG
https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/304989/my_AK-47_JPG-3100053.JPG
https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/304989/Platoon_Pic_jpg-3100055.JPG
https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/304989/Captured_artillery_2_JPG-3100059.JPG
https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/304989/shower_facility_JPG-3100061.JPG

I had taken a lot of pictures but back then you turned the film into the PX and waited about a month.  When my pictures came back, they said the film had been exposed and these were all they could recover.  There were some much more graphic ones and I wonder if they simply didn't want any unsavory images getting out.

Here's a story.  After the war ended and before we traveled south into kuwait, we were still required to go out and set up an air defense perimeter daily.   In the morning each chapparral in our platoon would head out into the desert in different directions.  we'd go several miles out and set up.  As best as we could see, we were in the middle of nowhere.  There was just flat sand as far as you could see in all directions.

One day I had to take a crap so I walked off to get away from my squad, something we all had done.  When I was maybe 100 yards away I noticed something odd.  A line in the sand.  I walked towards it and as I approached it I could see that it was a hole, dug into the sandstone.  It was the entrance to an underground tunnel system. What the Iraqis had done was cut paths in the sandstone, covered them with steel corrugated pipe cut in half lengthwise and then threw sand on top to hide it.  I was standing at the opening to the system.

Well they had put a piece of burlap over the entry so you couldn't see in.  Being an idiot I had to see inside, so I knelt down next to the hole and used my m16 barrel to lift the burlap away from the entrance.  I saw something just inside but couldn't make it out.  So I moved a bit closer and got more of the barrel behind the burlap and lifted.

Holy shit!  It was an RPG pointing seemingly directly at me.  I fell back on my ass, nearly shitting myself and ran back to my squad and told them about it.  

Our gunner, a sergeant, went to check it out and determined it was a booby trap.  The RPG had a wire going from its trigger to the burlap.  If someone had jumped down into the hole and threw the burlap aside, the RPG would have fired directly into the unsuspecting victim.  I simply hadn't moved the burlap enough to trigger it since I approached it from the side.

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About a year ago an old Vietnam veteran stopped by my house and told me that he was cleaning out his house and wanted to know if I wanted these.
https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/124978/received_1066752737989685_jpeg-3097869.JPG

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I do remember.  Usually we supported the BUFFs coming out of Spain first then the Spanish got cold feet and they moved the operation back to RAF Fairford.

That night they came from the south so Diego.  Northeast of  Baghdad sounds about right.

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Thanks for the cover!  Between crew comms, 2 UHF radios, and the HF, it was pretty noisy in the flight helmet.  However, getting that first ‘bzzzzt, bzzzzt, bzzzzt’ from the ALR-46 caused everything else to fade into the background.  I can still hear it!

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I was stationed in Hawaii for the whole thing.

I was on leave on Maui when it kicked off.

You're welcome.

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Middle of the day in Kuwait city. Oil fires caused the black sky.
https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/453212/74520653_10218289170575089_5914221935696-3098831.JPG

Iraqi beach fortifications in Kuwait.
https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/453212/124144429_10221617657825190_424390347529-3098833.JPG

Always having fun no matter where I'm at...

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I've played many a round of golf at Incirlik

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Love all these stories and pictures. Keep them coming.

Did the Iraqis just partially bury those tanks to reduce exposure and just use them as fixed guns?

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Love all these stories and pictures. Keep them coming.

Did the Iraqis just partially bury those tanks to reduce exposure and just use them as fixed guns?

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It didn't work. Most of them had either a hole through the turret or the turret was 30 feet away from the rest of the tank.

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Somewhere in Saudi Desert Jan '91
https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/367483/Somewhere_in_the_Saudi_Desert_Jan_1991-3099303.png

Somewhere in Kuwait. EPW holding area. Wearing a British MOPP suit
https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/367483/Somewher_in_Kuwait_EPW_holding_area-3099304.png

Outside Al Jaber Air Base Kuwait
https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/367483/Outside_Al_Jaber-3099305.png

Somewhere in Kuwait
https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/367483/DS_Radio-3099306.png

Dark at noon from the oil fires.
https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/367483/IMG-7971-163639.jpg

The Horse Al Jaber Air base Kuwait
https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/367483/The_Horse_Al_jaber-3099312.png

Psyop leaflet
https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/367483/Scan-3099310.jpg

Arabic translation pocket sheet
https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/367483/Scan_1-3099311.jpg

Linked up with a good buddy at the Port of Al Jubayl Saudi fall of 1990
https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/367483/Bro_shot-3099308.png

15 yrs later meet up in Ramadi Iraq
https://www.ar15.com/media/mediaFiles/367483/Bro_shot_15_yrs_later_in_Ramadi-3099309.png

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The Turkish national beer—Efis, is pretty damn good!

Quoted:  Each F-111 is carrying 32 Mark 82 500lb bombs and the B-52's are loaded with 70,000lbs of general-purpose bombs.  We will hit the target with a little over 1,000,000lbs of ordinance. Big Bada Boom.