A-10s over Kosovo

by Christopher E. Haave Kimos

  Glib and I continued our search of the target area; behind a building we found two square, green patches that just did not quite match the surrounding foliage and grass. I rolled in with my Maverick missile to get an IR image of what we were seeing. What started as a reconnaissance pass quickly became an attack as the Maverick’s imagery clearly showed two tanks concealed under a camouflage net. After I killed the first tank with a Maverick, I directed Glib to take out the second. He rolled in and took it out with a Maverick missile.

  Out of gas, we reluctantly retracted our fangs and headed for home. The next day a fellow pilot on an AFAC mission saw the tank I had shot with the gun: the tank—with its turret blown off—was sitting in the field. For two days following the Brits’ discovery of this tank by the house, coalition forces found and killed numerous pieces of artillery and armor hidden in and around this target area. A picture is indeed worth a thousand kills. Once again, I learned that if something on the ground doesn’t look quite right, it’s probably a Serb hiding from the wrath of the Warthog. Thanks to my British war brethren for the great target.

  Break Left! No, Your Other Left!

  The first of May began like any other day in Gioia. I was scheduled to fly as Maj Kirk M. “Corn” Mays’s wingman on an AFAC mission around the town of Urosevac. Corn was not alone in his feeling of frustration in not being able to find great targets. The Serbs were getting craftier at hiding their fielded forces because the A-10s were locating and killing them daily. Secret funerals were being held in Belgrade so the Yugoslav public would not know how many of their boys were dying in Kosovo. The Serbs were digging in deeper, and we were getting better at discovering their secrets of concealment.

  Corn asked me to lead the reconnaissance portion of the mission since I had succeeded in finding some lucrative targets in the past. We flew into theater and began working with the operator of a UAV who had spotted a tank and Serbian troops hidden in a tree line. I searched the area of interest with both binoculars and the Maverick seeker, but could not positively identify the target in question. Neither could I talk to the UAV operator directly because he was located too far from the AOR. Instead, I relayed my radio transmissions through the ABCCC. This process took a great deal of time and required us to stay in the target area longer than I had wished to positively identify the target. I rolled in and put three Willy Pete rockets close to the area I thought the UAV operator was talking about in hopes that the operator would see my smoke and confirm its position in relation to the target. Minutes later I got the confirmation from the UAV pilot via ABCCC that I was looking at the correct target. At this point Corn and I were rapidly approaching our bingo fuel for our next aerial refueling. Corn was coordinating a handoff of the target area with another two-ship of Hogs piloted by Capt James P. “Meegs” Meger and 1st Lt Michael A. “Scud” Curley. I was positioning myself to roll in and drop my Mk-82s on the troop concentration in the trees.

  Just as I was about to roll in, I heard, “SAM launch, SAM launch” over the UHF radio. Looking east towards Pristina Airfield, I saw a volley of two SAMs followed immediately by two more. I was amazed at the amount of white, billowy smoke they produced and the rapid speed at which they flew in our direction. All four SAMs were guiding towards us. I began evasive maneuvers and called the SAM launch out on the very high frequency (VHF) radio that all four A-10s were using to work the target-area handoff. All four A-10s began a SAM defense ballet, the likes of which I have never seen and hope to never see again. The sky was full of chaff, and the world’s greatest attack pilots were maneuvering their Hogs like their lives depended on it—and they did! A SAM, the second launched, malfunctioned and detonated in spectacular fashion about 2,000 feet above the ground. From my now-inverted cockpit, I could feel the concussion of the warhead detonating in a blaze of orange fire. The other three SAMs continued on course in an attempt to thwart our attack against the troops massed in the forest below us.

  All but one of the SAMs failed to guide—and that one chose Scud as its soon-to-be victim. Wouldn’t you know it would pick Scud, who was the least-seasoned pilot in our four-ship—a formation that had over 3,500 hours of combined Hog experience. Meegs did an excellent job of defeating the threat, maintaining situational awareness on his wingman, and calling out the final evasive maneuvers that prevented the SAM from impacting Scud’s jet and ruining our day. All four SAMs were defeated, and the Serb troops in the forest below awaited the wrath of the Panthers. The Serbs failed to take a lesson from Desert Storm. In that campaign, the Iraqis quickly learned that if they shot at an A-10 they had better kill it because if it survives, it is going to shoot back with a vengeance.

  Corn and I were out of gas, so we departed the area with our hearts in our throats and left the counterattack to Meegs. He dropped four Mk-82 airburst bombs on the troop concentration in the trees and eliminated those forces from the rest of the campaign. (I can make that statement with a high degree of certainty. One year later I received an Air Medal for my participation in that sortie. Afterwards a member of the audience approached me, introducing himself as the UAV operator with whom we had worked during that mission. He had personally witnessed Meegs’s Mk-82 attack, vouched for the devastation it created, and was pleased to finally meet one of the mission’s pilots.)

  After getting fuel from the tanker, Corn and I proceeded back into the KEZ to look for more targets in the northern region of the country. We had received numerous intel reports about troops and targets in this region, but we had not achieved much success in finding them. We flew approximately 15 miles northwest of Pristina Airfield and began searching for targets. I found one area of interest that appeared to have mobile AAA and possibly some other military vehicles in a small valley. I was just starting to talk Corn’s eyes onto the area to get his opinion when I saw two SAM launches from just north of Pristina Airfield. I thought, “Here we go again.” I called out the SAM launch to Corn and directed his break turn to defeat the attack. As I dumped out as much chaff as I could muster and made the appropriate break turn, I looked back to see that Corn had turned in the wrong direction. He was heading straight towards the SAMs, increasing their probability of intercept. Realizing that he did not see the SAMs, I directed him to “take it down! Break right now and roll out west! Chaff! Chaff! Chaff!” As the second SAM guided in Corn’s direction, I continued to monitor his progress and update his maneuvers while attempting to talk his eyes onto the threat. I was certain the SAM was going to hit him, and I was just about to call out a last ditch maneuver when it began to drift aft to pass about 1,000 feet behind him.

  Once we were clear of the SAMs, I plotted the area from which they were launched on a 1-to-50 map. I passed the coordinates to a Navy F/A-18 flight, which swiftly acquired the SAM system and destroyed it with LGBs within minutes of its attack on our flight. After the attack, we exited the area and headed home. The trip back to Gioia was very quiet. Not until we got to the cash register to pay for dinner that evening, Corn insisting that he pay for mine, did I realize the full magnitude of what had happened that day. Not feeling the effects of combat until hours after the mission and debrief is fairly common. It seemed that after a day of fighting the Serbs, the adrenaline level ran out somewhere between the order of steamed mussels with garlic and butter and the homemade gelato with fresh strawberries and cream on top. Dinner at the Truck Stop (a favorite eatery between Gioia and the hotel) was a savored ritual. The food was Italian standard—excellent—and the meal was a chance to recap the day’s events over a glass of wine. That’s when everyone seemed to “crash.” During those moments, I said a little thank-you prayer and just hoped that somehow what we did that day had really made a difference.

  Final Thoughts

  I flew several other sorties over Kosovo, fighting the Serbs with the best fighter pilots in the world. Milosevic did not stand a chance. The sorties I have recalled here were examples of the most memorable ones. For me, OAF was exciting, stressful, and frustrating. It was exciting because I fina
lly got a chance to fight in the world’s finest attack aircraft with the best-trained and most professional pilots in the US Air Force. It was stressful because we were getting shot at daily and the physical demands of running a 24-hour wartime operation took its toll on all of us. And it was frustrating to see villages burning several weeks into the campaign and not knowing what to do at that moment to stop the carnage. I am grateful to God that he delivered us all home safely to our families and that the air campaign was enough to convince Milosevic to give in. My last sortie in the A-10 was on 17 May, when I took a jet from Italy back to Spangdahlem for required maintenance. Opportunities like flying in this campaign present themselves only once in a lifetime. I am grateful and honored to have been a member of the fighting 81st FS Panthers.

  Chapter 3

  BEDDOWN AND MAINTENANCE

  Introduction

  Lt Col Chris “Kimos” Haave

  The successful around-the-clock attack of the enemy would not have been possible without an enormous and meticulously coordinated effort by a host of highly qualified professionals. The 81st EFS was supported and sustained by personnel of the 31st EOG at Aviano and the 40th EOG at Gioia del Colle. This chapter tells the story of the dedicated airmen in maintenance, logistics, munitions, personnel, services, civil engineering, contracting, communications, air traffic control, weather, photography, security forces, and the chaplaincy who made the A-10’s success possible.

  In October 1998, Headquarters USAFE ordered the 81st to send six A-10s to Aviano to stand up a CSAR alert posture. That crisis ended after just one month and allowed the A-10s to return to Spangdahlem. Even though the crisis was brief, the 81st still missed its once-a-year deployment to Nellis AFB, Nevada, and lost its chance to participate in Red Flag, Air Warrior, and the Gunsmoke gunnery competition. Little did the personnel of the 81st and other supporting units realize that they would soon have the most intensive large-force employment and gunnery experience of their careers.

  In chapter 1, I stated that the 81st started its six-month-long deployment to Italy at Aviano and that it was hosted by the Buzzards of the 510th FS. However, I failed to mention that the two squadrons shared a common heritage. The 510th had been an A-10 squadron at RAF Bentwaters until October 1992 when it moved to Spangdahlem AB, where it remained until it was inactivated in February 1994. In fact, the first time Warthogs went to Aviano in support of operations over Bosnia, they went as the Buzzards. During the Air Force’s reorganization in the mid-1990s, the 510th was reactivated at Aviano AB, flying F-16s. The A-10s at Spangdahlem were redesignated and assumed the name and traditions of the 81st FS Panthers, which had formerly been an F-4G Wild Weasel squadron at Spangdahlem.

  Over the years, the squadrons maintained strong ties. The Buzzards exhibited extraordinary hospitality when the Panthers came to town. During the 81st’s one-month deployment to Aviano beginning 7 January 1999, the 510th invited the Panthers to use its operations facilities while most of its F-16s were away. On 7 February 1999 we were ordered to remain in place and stand up a CSAR alert. The Buzzards, although now at full strength and in cramped quarters, once again invited us to operate from their facilities.

  All of the squadrons in the 31st Fighter Wing, particularly communications, transportation, airfield management, and intelligence, generously supported the Panthers. When we hastily relocated from Aviano to Gioia del Colle in April, commercial trucking was uncertain, and Aviano’s 603d Air Control Squadron volunteered its two-and-one-half-ton trucks to take us 400 miles down the road. Although commercial trucks were eventually located, the 603d’s sincere offer was indicative of the welcome we had at Aviano. This above-and-beyond hospitality was even more impressive considering the crush of units and personnel that filled every available parking space, hangar, and office on its air patch.

  The Desire to Go South

  Despite our comfortable arrangements at Aviano, we needed to move south to be more responsive with our CSAR mission. The CAOC proposed that we stand up a CSAR alert at Aviano and another at Amendola AB during our October 1998 deployment. Amendola is an Italian air force training base on the Adriatic coast opposite Split, Croatia; unfortunately, it had no US or NATO infrastructure to support all the communications and weapons requirements for CSAR missions. Although we wanted to move farther south, we rejected the idea of splitting our squadron. We proposed moving our entire CSAR contingent to Brindisi, where we could work alongside our principal partners in CSAR operations—the special forces’ helicopter units. However, Brindisi was already too crowded, and the USAF wanted to leave in the near future.

  We continued to look for a more southern location. Amendola was now no longer possible, since the Dutch and Belgian air forces had filled all the available ramp space with a joint F-16 detachment. Goldie and I looked to the Sixteenth Air Force force-structure experts for help and asked to review their aerodrome site surveys. After looking at airfield diagrams in our instrument-approach books, we were most interested in Brindisi and Gioia del Colle. The surveys of the Sixteenth Air Force experts indicated there were too many complicating issues with United Nations (UN) logistics to safely locate even six A-10s at Brindisi. They also told us the Italian government had not given them approval to survey Gioia del Colle.

  Our sorties during our first two days of operations (30 and 31 March) were seven and one-half hours long but provided less than two hours of on-station mission time. This proved the need to relocate nearer the KEZ. The physical toll on the pilots was enormous: two hours to get to the KEZ followed by three hours of “one-armed paper hanging” in the target area (including about an hour going to and from the tanker), finished by two hours of struggling to stay awake on the way home. If we flew two long sorties per day, our maintainers wouldn’t have enough time to fix any broken jets and still maintain aircraft ready for the CSAR alert. We were faced with limiting ourselves to one sortie per aircraft per day or accepting a continuous lowering of our mission-capable rate. Either choice would inevitably result in a reduction to one sortie per day. At the same time, the CAOC had asked us to increase our sortie rate and the already stretched 31st AEW at Aviano was told to expect another squadron or two of F-16CJs from Shaw AFB, South Carolina. It was time for us to go.

  On Monday, 5 April, anticipating that the Italians might say “no,” I called the commander of the British GR-7 detachment at Gioia del Colle to ask whether there was sufficient parking space for 18 A-10s. He told me, “Yes, there is… We built our own parking areas and taxiways on the other side of the runway, so we’ve left plenty of room.”

  Eureka! I immediately called Col Gregg Sanders, an A-10 pilot and the 52d Fighter Wing’s inspector general, who had recently been pressed into service in the planning division (C-5) at the CAOC. I told him about the situation at Gioia and asked if the CAOC would approve the 81st’s sending a site-survey team there. Later that day, after coordinating with the local Italian authorities, he called back to say that our team could depart the next day to visit Gioia del Colle and Amendola.

  Our team of maintainers, aviators, and support personnel took two days to complete their site visit and returned to Aviano on Wednesday, 7 April. Gioia del Colle was the clear choice. It had more available space on the aerodrome and more obtainable hotel accommodations in the local area. The next day we sent an advance echelon team, comprised of Sixteenth Air Force and 81st personnel, to Gioia to evaluate the facilities and determine what it would take for us to begin to operate. Their initial assessment was that it would require at least one week without flying to get it ready. There was not enough space to build up munitions, nor were there sufficient maintenance facilities. Two floors of an old dormitory (complete with beds), serviced by a finicky and outdated electrical system, would become our operations area. On 9 April we received EUCOM orders to have 15 jets in place at Gioia by 11 April.

  The same order requested that Air Combat Command (ACC) deploy four A-10s from the continental United States (CONUS) to augment us. I called CAOC personnel to make
sure they understood that the 81st had three additional aircraft at Spang that we could immediately bring to Gioia. They said, “No one here knew that.” General Short had asked, “How many A-10s are at Aviano?” After the CAOC told him “15,” he replied, “Get four more from ACC.” It was too late to turn off the request, but we knew ACC couldn’t generate the aircraft and fly them across the Atlantic for at least a week. I tried to get approval to bring in the three 81st FS jets. After I had called the CAOC, Sixteenth Air Force, NATO’s Regional Headquarters Allied Forces Southern Europe (AFSOUTH) at Naples, EUCOM, and USAFE, I learned that publishing another EUCOM tasker in less than 24 hours for just three jets was in the “too hard to do” locker. However, I also learned that USAFE could move its own jets within the European theater without higher approval. After getting the CAOC to buy off on the idea, I asked my home wing leadership to weigh in for us. Brig Gen Scott Van Cleef, Col Jan-Marc Jouas, and Col Al Thompson came through, and on 10 April we got USAFE approval to fly the last three Spang A-10s into Gioia on 11 April.

  The Move to Gioia

  The move to Gioia del Colle on 11 April 1999 involved establishing full-up operations in near bare-base conditions and relocating people, equipment, and aircraft from both Spangdahlem and Aviano. The following week contained one of the least known but most impressive logistics accomplishments of OAF. Maintainers of the 81st FS and logisticians of the 52d and 31st AEWs had only one “down day” to pack up all the tools and equipment, and load them on trucks, “Cadillac bins,” or pallets, while still maintaining a full CSAR alert of six aircraft and two spares. Even the right parts arrived at Aviano in time to replace those missing from our cannibalized aircraft (CANN bird), so we could fly it to Gioia. Our weapons loaders added extra bombs and missiles to the A-10s at Aviano to help cover our immediate munition needs. We estimated that it would take the munitions depot at Camp Darby, located on the Italian Riviera near Livorno, Italy, about three days to transport the weapons over the 500 miles to Gioia and begin routine deliveries. Eleven trucks departed Aviano for Gioia on 10 April. The next day, C-130s departed from Ramstein, Spangdahlem, and Aviano, and all 18 A-10s (15 from Aviano and three from Spangdahlem) took off on time and landed on time at Gioia del Colle. Colonel Thompson flew one of the three Spangdahlem A-10s to Gioia, where he established and assumed command of the new 40th EOG.