Every Man a Tiger: The Gulf War Air Campaign

by Tom Clancy

  Some of the more doctrine-laden ground people also talk about the strategic, operational, and tactical levels of war, so they can think in bins or boxes: “strategic” means whatever the President thinks about and does, “operational” is what the CINC thinks about and does, “tactical” is component-level-and-below thinking and doing.

  To an airman this is meaningless. My tactical fighter (tactical), flying to Baghdad (operational), kills Saddam Hussein (strategic).

  So finally, in talking about air plans or air operations, I keep as far from these words as I can. Airpower is essentially very simple: Aircraft can range very quickly over very wide areas and accurately hit targets very close to home or very far away. Nothing more. Nothing less.

  ★ These are the briefing elements Horner put together that afternoon at MacDill:

  First came the basics:• Forces available: Under Goldwater-Nichols, CENTCOM was apportioned certain forces—primarily the 1st TFW (F-15s at Langley) and the 363d TFW (F-16s at Shaw). There were also F-111s, A-10s, C-130s, intelligence assets, ground radar units, a number of E-3 AWACS, a Red Horse engineering unit (for construction services), the Ninth Air Force staff and commander, and so forth. The CINC of CENTCOM could also obtain units apportioned to other CINCs, but for that he needed the approval of the Secretary of Defense. Thus, CENTCOM was later given the Army’s VIIth Corps, which came from EUCOM and was an enormous addition to its ground forces; and CENTAF was also considerably augmented before the actual beginning of the war in January of ’91. (All of these changes were several months in the future.) In August, Chuck Horner’s position was to fight the forces that were already apportioned to CENTCOM. Since, as CENTAF Commander, Horner was not just the Central Command Air Force component commander, but also the joint force air component commander (JFACC), the forces available additionally included the fixed-wing aircraft that belonged to the Navy, Marine, and Army units assigned to CENTCOM. He looked at all of these forces day to day, to keep track of their readiness posture, so he knew what forces he could count on.

  • Types of units: Though all types of units make up an air force, the basic breakdown of roles is Air Superiority, Air Interdiction, Close Air Support, Reconnaissance, and Airlift. Some of the units were dedicated to one role. For example, the F-15s were used only in air-to-air missions1; the F-16s could do any role except Airlift; the A-10s were best used for Close Air Support (though they could do much more than that); and the C-130s hauled men and materiel, mostly Army, around the theater. However, C-130s had also been used in Vietnam to drop huge bombs to make helicopter landing pads in the jungle. So when Horner looked at an aircraft, he considered all its possible roles.

  • Speed of deployment: This issue had to be approached from three directions—need, tanker availability, and airlift availability. Horner’s first job was to make sure he controlled the air and could protect the rest of the force arriving by air and sea. Thus, he needed F-15s (for air-to-air), AWACS (for radar), and Rivet Joint (for signals intelligence). Flying the large jets such as the AWACS to Saudi Arabia was not a problem, since they could cross the ocean without tanker support; but the smaller aircraft, such as F-15s, required tankers, meaning that his deployment tempo was limited by tanker availability. Next, only the C-130 units could self-deploy—that is, bring their own spare parts and people with them. In order to be operational when they arrived, the jets sent to Saudi Arabia would need a support airlift, or else they would have to be based with a like Saudi unit to allow Horner to support operations with Saudi parts and maintenance people until his own people and parts arrived. Thus, he initially based the 1st TFW’s F-15s with Saudi F-15s at the Saudi base at Dhahran. Once these three basic elements were determined, he prioritized the lineup in terms of what he wanted to go first and how long he thought it would take, knowing that all active air force units must be capable of deploying in twenty-four hours, and all guard and reserve units in forty-eight hours.

  • Basing: Over the years, Horner had done preliminary planning about what units and aircraft to base where, and in fact his people already had considerable basing experience in Saudi Arabia. Earlier that year (1990), for example, AWACS and tankers had come home from Riyadh air base, where they had been operating for the previous eight years, protecting Saudi Arabia and its oil from possible spillover from the Iran-Iraq War. Since there were already hangars, ramps, fuel, and all kinds of equipment and supplies available, and the unit knew where to set what up, it made sense to send AWACS to Riyadh. Again, like units went best with like units. After that it was a matter of available ramp space and a feel for the pluses and minuses of the bases themselves. From visits with his counterparts, Horner knew all the airfields in the region. He had walked the ramps and flown from their runways. He also knew which countries were likely to let the United States in and which ones might balk. (As it turned out, all of them were very cooperative.) In short, he had done his homework; basing would not be a problem.

  • Facing the enemy: Since the aim of all this activity was not movement or placement of assets, but (at least potentially), the generation of combat sorties, aircraft needed to be located where they would be available for the maximum number of sorties. Thus, Horner wanted to put the A-10s and Marine Harriers (short-range Vertical Take-Off and Landing aircraft) as near Kuwait as possible, because A-10s and Harriers were used primarily in close support roles. He also knew that the Marines liked to be near the sea. Conversely, he wanted the air CAP jets near the border, which meant placing them at Dhahran and Tabuk. On the other hand, since his tankers were nothing more than modified 707s and MD-11s, and since a 707 or MD-11 didn’t know whether it belonged to United Air Lines or the United States Air Force, the tankers would fit best at international airports, where maintenance and ground-handling equipment were available for large commercial aircraft. He wanted to place aircraft carriers in waters as close to Iraq as he could persuade the Navy to put them. And he wanted B-52s near the theater, but in locations that were not vulnerable to Scud or air strikes.

  Second, Schwarzkopf (and after him the President) would want to understand the amount of military coercive force this air armada could generate. Here, briefing slides would come in handy:

  The first of these would picture a map of the Iraq, Kuwait, and Saudi Arabia region, a very simple map, just border outlines with a few symbols of major towns, highways, and rivers. On this map, a pair of large arrows would drop out of Kuwait, one aimed south along the coast, and a second aimed south but then bending to the west toward Riyadh. One of these two would be the probable Iraq course of attack. The map would then depict aircraft in orbit over central Saudi Arabia—AWACS and their CAPs to the north of them. It would also depict F-16s and A-10s attacking the lead elements of the Iraqi army, as well as the logistics bases and supply lines supporting the attack.

  A second slide would list aircraft types down the left side. A middle column would list the number of aircraft expected to be based in theater and the expected sortie rate. So, for example, the sortie rate for the A-10 might be 3.5, and for the B-52 it might be .60. The right-hand column would multiply the number of aircraft by the sortie rate to give the number of sorties Horner would expect to fly per day. This would convey the level of effort he expected to sustain once the battle was joined.

  ★ How would these forces actually be used to defeat an Iraqi invasion of Saudi Arabia?

  The basic strategy was to defeat the Iraqi invader by first cutting off his essential supplies and then by hitting his forces where they were causing problems with the U.S. ground forces. More specifically:• Seize control of the air: Blind the centralized air defense system by knocking out their radars, and the command and control that directs them. Shoot down the Iraqi fighters brave and stupid enough to fly. Hit their airfields to limit the number of fighters they can put up to challenge you. Strike fear in the hearts of the radar-guided SAM operators by using Wild Weasels and HARM missiles to make them afraid to turn on their radars. And avoid the guns and shoulder-fired infrare
d (IR) missiles by flying at medium altitude.

  • Interdict Iraqi fuel, munitions, food, and water: Armies have to set up dumps where their vehicles can go for gas and ammunition, so find the dumps and blow them up. Armies need fuel trucks to carry gas to their tanks and vehicles; and they need freighter trucks to carry their ammunition, so patrol the roads to the dump and strafe the trucks going and coming.

  • Attack command and control: Find enemy headquarters—probably a group of tents or command-and-control vehicles (armored personnel carriers—APCs—loaded with antennas). This is an attacking army, so it has no bunkers. You find these headquarters by listening for them. They have to talk. They have to use radios or ground lines. Either way, you’ll know it. Without communication, a commander can’t control anything. (He can use runners or carrier pigeons, but the bandwidth on those is very low.) When you hear them talking, you can do four things: (1) listen but otherwise leave them alone, so you can disrupt their attack plan; (2) jam them and so deny communication; (3) voice over them and deliver the wrong communication (“Saddam Hussein here. I want you to change your direction of attack. Go north. Got that? North.”); or (4) bomb them. Because you control the air, the enemy has none of these options (though he might try ground-based systems; the range of these is short, however, due to the earth’s curvature).

  • Provide close air support to the outnumbered ground forces: There were two issues here—providing close air support (CAS) for U.S. ground forces, a mission that had been practiced long and hard, and providing CAS for the Arab allies, which was more problematic because of language issues, and because it hadn’t been practiced—at least adequately and routinely. However, even CAS for U.S. forces had some problematic elements, partly because of the differing needs (or perceived needs) of air and ground forces, and partly because of recent changes in the very nature of warfare itself.An air force is in the ordnance-delivery business, just as an airline is in the seat-delivery business. A TWA jet is well used when it is in the air and all its seats are filled. An F-16 is well used when it is in the air delivering ordnance to a target. The needs of ground people are somewhat different. For one thing, they like to have friendly aircraft visibly overhead. It makes them feel good. If these aircraft are not in fact delivering ordnance, that is not terribly important to their feelings of well-being. For another, ground people like to schedule air strikes the way they like to schedule artillery—hours, sometimes days, in advance. However, modern warfare has changed so greatly, the tempo of war has speeded up so much, and a good modern army is so mobile (you don’t know what you need because you don’t know where you’ll be fighting), that scheduling air strikes in the old way had become seriously counterproductive.

  Very early on in their command relationship, Horner talked at length with Schwarzkopf about these issues, and convinced him then of a way of providing close air support that later came to be called Push CAS. That is, aircraft would be designated for CAS, but where, how, and when they would be used would be determined “on the run” by events in the field. If no one in the field had an immediate need for CAS, or if they were holding their own or winning, Horner would send the jets to the enemy rear area. Though the effects of these last strikes wouldn’t show up immediately, when they did, they would prove dramatic. Push CAS required excellent communications and control and also good ways of identifying the precise locations of the targets, but it was not otherwise more difficult than earlier ways of operating. Schwarzkopf had bought into Push CAS in April during the Internal Look exercise, and Push CAS became a reality in February 1991.

  The problem of providing CAS to Arab-only speakers was solved by asking the RSAF (Royal Saudi Air Force), all of whom were bilingual in English and Arabic, to provide CAS controllers. It also turned out that there were a few USAF fighter pilots who, by reason of family origin, spoke Arabic. However, neither of these solutions could be instantly implemented. There would have been real problems in August 1990 if the Iraqis had come south.

  • Once the Iraqi invasion has been brought to a halt, begin an offensive air campaign whose aim is to throw the invading army out of Saudi Arabia and Kuwait: Though CENTCOM tasking in August was to focus on the defense of Saudi Arabia, nonetheless, no one could ignore the event that had started the crisis, the invasion of Kuwait. Thus, initial plans had to be made for attacks against key targets in Iraq—oil refineries, power-generation plants, major rail yards, large factories, interstate highways, bridges, and the like. The idea was to link the destruction of these targets essential to Iraq with a coherent strategy designed to gain a political objective, such as the removal of the Iraqis from Kuwait. In point of fact, Horner and Schwarzkopf had recently come from the Internal Look exercise in Florida, where their air planners had been selecting targets throughout Iraq in response to the exercise scenario. Most of the target materials used during the war had already been ordered from intelligence sources the previous spring (primarily the DIA) as part of the preparations for Internal Look.

  By the time the 5:00 P.M. conference with the CINC had arrived, Horner was ready to step in, if necessary, and provide Schwarzkopf with the basics he’d need to take to Camp David. He grabbed his notes and headed down to the CINC’s conference room to listen to the briefing proposed for the CINC by the J-3.

  The small conference room was small and crowded, and the atmosphere was tense. The CINC was tired, the process of preparing the presidential briefing had not gone smoothly, and now time was running out. Fortunately, no one was allowed to smoke. Schwarzkopf ’s predecessor, Marine General George Crist, and many of his staff had been chain-smokers; CENTCOM meetings in those days had been agony to nonsmokers.

  The meeting started with a short update on the situation in Kuwait. It turned out that when the crisis had broken out in July, General Schwarzkopf had had a man in a hotel across the street from the American Embassy in Kuwait City. His name was John F. Feeley, and he was a major on the CENTCOM Intelligence staff. Feeley had been sent to Kuwait with a briefcase full of top-secret photos to show the Kuwaiti leaders and had been caught there during the invasion. Now he was providing direct eyeball updates via a man-portable satellite phone. Horner didn’t know this man, but he imagined he was operating at a high pitch of excitement, perched as he was in the middle of the Iraqi Army as they rounded up elements of the Kuwaiti Army and foreign visitors. The CINC was obviously pleased that he’d inserted a pair of eyes in the enemy camp. Horner wondered if the “pair of eyes” shared the CINC’s joy.

  The next part of the briefing took up the use of ground forces to counter an invasion of Saudi Arabia. Schwarzkopf asked few questions and made few comments; it was obvious this was his briefing and he had personally worked hard on it. The material was clear, understandable, and to the point; it addressed in detail the issues that constitute war on the ground—terrain, enemy forces, lines of communication, armor, tactics. For someone who could only guess at how events would unfold, it was quite reassuring.

  The air part of the briefing was another thing; it turned out to be everything Horner had feared. As soon as it started, Horner could see a titanic disaster in the making. Burt Moore’s people, for all their talent, had fallen into the trap of trying to give the boss what they thought he wanted, rather than what they knew he needed. The material was vague, airy, lightweight. It scarcely began to show comprehension of the myriad facts and details that a good briefer condensed and focused into a very few words.

  It primarily contained a list of forces that would deploy according to the Time Phased Force Deployment List (TPFDL—which is the military’s way of talking about moving things and people), as well as some discussion about where the forces would be located on the Saudi Arabian peninsula. This was interesting and important information as far as it went; but the point of any deployment was not the movement and placement of forces, but the way the forces could be brought to bear against a potential enemy. The briefing did not address that issue. It did not convey the combat power those aircraft were capable
of bringing against the attacking Iraqi forces, nor did it point out where and when the aircraft would strike the Iraqi forces, nor the logistics factors (such as fuel and munitions availability) these combat operations would require, or how these would impact sortie rates.

  In short, the briefing talked about things, the elements of airpower—numbers of aircraft and bases—but did not talk about the application of force and how it would be used to frustrate the enemy and accomplish the CINC’s military objectives. It described a horse without telling the listener how he intended to use the horse.

  During the first two slides, the CINC showed amazing patience. “Perhaps he was hoping it would get better,” Horner observes, “like the kid pawing through a pile of horse manure hoping to find a pony inside.” Unfortunately, the briefing got worse, and so did Schwarzkopf ’s temper. As his questions and comments increased in volume and velocity, the room grew charged with electricity. Many hunkered down into the near-fetal position staff officers learn to achieve in an upright chair. Others gleefully anticipated the inevitable Schwarzkopf eruption.

  For a second, Horner allowed himself a small, childish “I told you so” thought, but quickly switched it off. Time’s running out, he told himself. No need for any poor sons of bitches to suffer CINC abuse. And more to the point, it’s not fair to Schwarzkopf to provide him less than our best efforts.

  He turned to the CINC and quietly suggested that perhaps the President just wanted to know how soon Air Force units could arrive in the theater, where they would be located, how they would be supported, what levels of effort could be sustained, and what type of jobs they could be expected to undertake to deter or defeat an Iraqi invasion. He could see that this part of the briefing had been troubling the CINC, and that he was looking for a way to convey this information to the President in as credible a manner as the ground piece of the briefing, which he had worked out so well.