by Dan Emmett
The problem was that the Syrians, would as almost all people from the region, outwardly agree to almost anything and say, “No problem, no problem,” when in fact they had no intention of following through with whatever it was they had no problem with. In most cases, they were not even listening to what was being proposed.
As a result of this known trait in their culture, my shift leader ordered me to prepost in the room with President Clinton and Assad, for the express purpose of neutralizing any threat to POTUS regardless of who posed it. Translated, that meant kill the Syrians if necessary. When I asked for clarification of his instructions, he merely nodded. I suppose I should have been flattered to be chosen for such an assignment, but I realized that if I did have to shoot the Syrians, like them, I would be experiencing the last day of my life.
As directed, I preposted in the conference room, and as Assad entered, so did his security detail. As expected, they were not unarmed. Nor were they even trying to conceal the fact. It was as I slowly moved behind them into the best possible firing position that I noticed their Skorpion machine pistols.
The Skorpion was a .32-caliber weapon with a ten- or twenty-round curved magazine that fired fully automatically, giving it little accuracy in any situation, especially in a packed room. It had a small folding stock that, when extended, came down over the forearm for added stability. The weapon itself was prone to malfunctioning and was really a piece of junk, but in such a venue, it would be deadly, and many individuals would be shot, including, perhaps, the president of the United States.
As President Clinton and Assad sat at the front of the room side by side and I stood behind the Syrian security agents, all of my senses were on full alert, peaking and then receding with every movement of my potential targets. If I had to respond to the Syrians, it would be the quintessential example of surgical shooting, taking out specific targets one by one in a room packed with innocents as well as the leader of the free world. In CAT, I had practiced this type of scenario many times and had fired thousands of rounds of ammunition preparing for such a challenge.
I repositioned a bit in order to ensure that POTUS and Assad would not be in my line of fire in the event I was forced to shoot and actually missed. As bad as a shootout in this small room would be, it would, of course, be catastrophic beyond imagination if a Secret Service bullet from my pistol struck either POTUS or Assad.
Due to the exceptional training received through the years from both the Marine Corps and the Secret Service, I felt confident. As in similar situations I had encountered, I knew I had done all I could do to prepare for whatever might now occur. A calm came over me as I stood ready to do what was necessary to protect the life of the president of the United States.
After what seemed like an eternity, the meeting finally ended uneventfully. I held my position until each of the Syrian security agents had exited the room and then returned to our command post, where I sat in the first chair I saw. This incident left me knowing two things for certain: The Syrians were not to be trusted, and, had they drawn their Skorpions, it would have been quite a mess.
AIR FORCE ONE
When it was time for PPD to travel, we traveled in a style that even the wealthiest could not buy a ticket for. We traveled on Air Force One, operated by the US Air Force Special Air Mission (SAM) squadron.
The call sign “Air Force One” for presidential aircraft was first used by the Eisenhower administration in 1953 after an incident in which a commercial aircraft operating in the same airspace as Ike’s had the same call sign. Since that time, the call sign Air Force One has applied to any air force aircraft carrying POTUS. It makes no difference if the plane is one of the Boeing 747s built specifically for POTUS or a smaller Grumman Gulfstream business-type jet sometimes used by POTUS for short hops, when using a full-size 747 is not practical. Technically the call sign could apply to a Cessna Bird Dog two-seat single-engine aircraft if POTUS were aboard. If it is an air force plane and POTUS is aboard, it is Air Force One. If POTUS is not aboard, the airplane will have a normal air force call sign.
Presidents using airplanes for official travel is a relatively new phenomenon, with FDR being the first president to fly while in office. He had no designated airplane in the beginning and flew a commercial Pan Am Clipper on one overseas flight. Two US Army Air Corps aircraft later were designated for him, but the Secret Service deemed one not usable due to its safety record and the other was used only on one occasion. President Truman had two different aircraft assigned to him during his presidency but did not use them a great deal. Most notably, it was aboard one of these aircraft that he signed the bill that created the US Air Force as a separate branch of the military in 1947.
While Eisenhower had flown on one or two occasions in jets as POTUS, JFK was the first president to actually use a jet for travel on a regular basis. It was symbolic, in a sense. Presidents like FDR, Truman, and Ike were old and slow men who traveled on slow propeller-driven aircraft. JFK was more like the Boeing 707. Both airplane and president were young, good-looking, and in a hurry to get places.
The first jet aircraft that would become the standard Air Force One (AF-1) was a Boeing 707, tail number 26000. In the beginning, this jet did not have the familiar blue, white, and gold paint scheme now identified with AF-1, nor did it have the large emblem of the president of the United States on the forward part of the fuselage. It was painted orange and white, with the letters identifying it as belonging to the US Air Force. Not long after JFK entered office in 1961, tail number 26000 was given its new colors, which remain today the standard paint scheme for presidential aircraft.
The plane that took Kennedy on his most famous trips—including Berlin, where he made the “I am a Berliner” speech—was the 26000. It would also take him home for the last time on November 22, 1963, this time in the aft end of the plane, in his coffin with Jackie sitting by his side.
In 1972, Richard Nixon took delivery of a new AF-1, another Boeing 707, with the tail number 27000. It then became the primary AF-1, and 26000 remained as the backup, but as operationally capable as 27000. Both of these aircraft would be used interchangeably as AF-1 until President George Herbert Walker Bush took delivery in 1990 of two new Boeing 747s, tail numbers 28000 and 29000. They are identical, and both are still in service today.
After the new 747s arrived, Boeing 707, tail numbers 26000 and 27000, were relegated to backup duty. They were not retired completely from service until the mid-1990s. Both of these aircraft now reside in museums, with 26000 having served seven presidents and 27000 five.
A NEW AIR FORCE ONE AND THE DISAPPEARING WINDSHIELD
There was a world of difference between the older 707s and the new, much larger 747s. In addition to being significantly larger and more comfortable, the 747 engines had a great deal more thrust than those on 707. This initially caused some problems for CAT, dramatically brought to light quite unexpectedly one day.
One of CAT’s main duties is protecting AF-1 on arrivals and departures. When the big jet is taxiing for takeoff and sitting at the end of a runway, or when it comes to a complete halt on landing rollout and is no longer able to immediately lift back into the air, it becomes a gigantic fuel-bloated target of opportunity. It is the mission of CAT to defend AF-1 during these times of total vulnerability against attacks of all types, from an organized act of aggression involving multiple attackers to someone running out of the woods to plant a charge on the landing gear. In order to provide this protection, the CAT truck must drive very close to AF-1 as it moves about on the ground, and must be able to give chase down the runway during takeoff and landing. The noise in the CAT truck and buffeting from the engines’ thrust are tremendous, as CAT drives just yards behind the airplane. It was discovered quite by accident that this procedure had to be modified with the arrival of the larger 747s.
One of the first departures of 28000, one of the new 747s, occurred in 1990. The plane took off from Andrews Air Force Base and from the CAT truck, the new airplane see
med twice as large as the old AF-1. As AF-1 taxied, an uneasy feeling began to spread through the vehicle when it was noted that the buffeting of the CAT truck from merely following the airplane during its taxi to the runway seemed as intense as the buffeting from the old Air Force One at full power.
On this departure of 28000, with George Herbert Walker Bush on board, the CAT Suburban as usual upon takeoff fell in to provide coverage behind AF-1—and it fell into a hurricane force of jet blast. The tremendous power from the four massive turbo fan engines, each providing 43,500 pounds of thrust, proceeded to blow the front windshield of the CAT truck into the laps of the driver and team leader.
Most sane, rational people, including Secret Service agents, would have called off the mission at that point, but CAT does not fall under this category. In best CAT tradition, which always includes finishing its mission, the truck continued to trail AF-1 down the runway, with the hot jet blast and dirt and debris ripping through the truck like a windstorm and the smell of burning jet fuel permeating every nostril in the vehicle. Due to the deafening roar of the engines, the sound of five CAT agents screaming and laughing in unison could not be heard, even by each other.
As the jet lifted off, the CAT truck turned off the runway onto the taxiway for its trip back to the ramp with no front windshield. A debriefing was later held, at which time it was decided that CAT airport tactics were to be modified. CAT would continue to provide chase for AF-1 but from a greater distance.
MARINE ONE
As with Air Force One, the president must be on board a marine helicopter in order for the call sign to be Marine One. Otherwise, the helicopter retains a standard Marine Corps identification. The army and Marine Corps once shared the duties of flying the presidential helicopter, but in 1976, the marines took over exclusively in this area. Much old footage exists of Ike and JFK flying in Sikorsky H-34 helicopters with “ARMY” on the fuselage. In such instances, the call sign of the helicopter would have been Army One.
The Marine Corps squadron tasked with the honor of flying the president is HMX-1, based out of Marine Corps Air Station Quantico. “H” stands for helicopter, “M” for marine, and “X” for experimental, denoting the squadron’s original mission of testing new, experimental helicopters. While the squadron flies many different types of helicopters, it transports POTUS primarily in Sikorsky VH-3 Sea Kings.
MY FIRST FLIGHT ABOARD AIR FORCE ONE
In an agent’s career, there are certain things that will always stand out and be remembered forever. One of the most memorable events in my career was the privilege of flying on Air Force One, especially for the first time.
Flying on AF-1 was always special, and for many reasons. Nothing symbolizes the power and prestige of the presidency and the United States more than this magnificent aircraft. It is also special because only a very small percentage of Secret Service agents ever fly on AF-1. For a Secret Service agent to fly in this airplane, he had to be assigned to PPD, and our numbers were relatively few compared to the total number of agents in the Secret Service.
My first flight on AF-1 occurred in the summer of 1993 at night. My shift and I began this adventure by driving from the White House to an off-site landing zone, where we boarded our own HMX-1 helicopter for the trip to Andrews. There we would board AF-1.
We arrived at the landing zone and proceeded into the HMX-1 complex through a gate manned by a heavily armed marine. After checking our credentials, the marine waved us through the gate; we found a parking slot and got out and entered the ops building. Our helicopter arrived shortly thereafter and settled into its landing zone, whereupon the pilot disengaged the rotors and let them come to a stop, but with the engine still running at idle, which created a low whining noise. Cleared by the marine in HMX-1 operations, we proceeded out of the building to board the green Sikorsky VH-3 with the white top and “United States of America” painted on the aft end of the fuselage.
As I approached the waiting helicopter with my shift, I was immediately impressed by the beauty and sound of this unique flying machine. I remember the wonderful smell of burning jet fuel, the noise of the engine, and the perfect marine sergeant at the bottom of the aircraft’s steps. On the carpeted steps were the words “Welcome Aboard Marine One” on removable Plexiglas placards in large letters as bold as the marines who flew these machines.
As we boarded the helicopter, the marine sergeant in full dress blues who stood by the forward steps saluted. The salute was a standard courtesy rendered by the marine aircrew for anyone who boarded their helicopter. As a former marine officer, I instinctively returned the squared-away sergeant’s salute, although it was not part of protocol. Protocol or not, as a former marine officer, it was a habit I would never break.
No sooner were we in our seats than the recruiting poster–perfect sergeant climbed in and pulled the entry hatch shut, fastening the latch behind him. He then leaned into the cockpit, where he talked briefly with the pilots before strapping into his seat. The pilots engaged the rotors and began to increase power until the rotors were spinning above us with a comforting but muffled sound and the bird began to vibrate from the torque of the turning rotor shaft. The crew quickly completed their pre-takeoff checklist, and very suddenly the helicopter began to rise as the pilot applied power and pulled up on the collective stick.
Up we went into the purple night sky and began to circle slowly over Washington. We flew in a type of holding pattern as we waited for Marine One bearing POTUS to lift off from the White House, at which time we would fly together in formation to Andrews.
The sun had just set on this clear night, and Washington was brilliantly illuminated, with the monuments standing out like giant white carvings placed on a toy landscape. The noise of the VH-3’s engine was muffled by the sound insulation, and thus it was amazingly quiet—so quiet, in fact, that you could actually carry on a conversation with the person next to you without yelling. I had last flown in a marine helicopter in 1981. It was another product of Sikorsky, a CH-53 Sea Stallion that was so loud one could not talk over the noise. It also had a noticeable puddle of some type of fluid on the floorboard. The 53 was designed to carry marines and their equipment into battle or anywhere else they needed to go. It did not need to be clean, quiet, and pretty. The presidential VH-3s, however, were designed to carry POTUS and his entourage in total comfort and style.
After circling for about twenty minutes and watching the same sights pass underneath several times, I could feel we were changing heading. As I looked out my window, I could see the red and green lights of Marine One rising up to meet us from the direction of the White House. As it neared, I could clearly see the shape and outline of the president’s helicopter as it took the lead; we flew along in a trail position. Along the way, we changed the lead position more than once for security purposes.
As we began our approach into the Andrews Air Force Base area, I could feel changes in the pitch of the rotors as well as in the power setting. We came in from the west and descended lower and lower until we were in hover just feet above the concrete, and then the marine aviator flying our helicopter touched down with scarcely any notice. We taxied to our position, where the pilot parked the aircraft and shut down the engines. The recruiting-poster sergeant unlatched the door and lowered it. He then turned and nodded to us, indicating that we were free to leave the helicopter and go to where we would begin the next part of our adventure. We quickly disembarked the Sikorsky, and as we left, the pilots, still seated, turned to their left and right to wave good-bye to us.
In about five minutes, Marine One was hovering over the tarmac and landed just as gently as had our helicopter. The pilot disengaged the rotors and shut down the engines. The front door opened and dropped into position, at which time another perfect marine sergeant, in the same perfect dress blues, walked down the steps and to the rear of Marine One. There he unfastened and lowered an identical set of stairs for the passengers in the rear of the helicopter to descend.
Down the rear
stairs descended the Secret Service detail leader and another agent, who picked up their designated places on the tarmac. Next came President Clinton, who walked down the front steps, where a marine saluted him. He began the short walk from Marine One to the front stairs of Air Force One. Ascending the front stairs and pausing at the top, he waved and disappeared inside.
At this point, we were free to board Air Force One, but not immediately. The agents always board the rear steps of the aircraft. At the bottom of the stairs standing on the tarmac is an air force sergeant with a list of all who are supposed to be flying on AF-1 that day. After you provide your name to the air force sergeant, he checks you off the list, and then you run up the stairs and onto the plane as it is only moments from moving out.
I stepped up to the sergeant, gave him my name, which he checked off, and up the stairs I went to the Secret Service compartment of the airplane, located toward the rear of the plane. This was just in front of the compartment used by the White House traveling press corps. I then prepared for my first flight aboard Air Force One.
I took my coat off and hung it in a closet next to our own lavatory, while keeping my gun and radio on. Even though we were on AF-1, we were still working and expected to respond to any crisis if needed. POTUS was up front in his area, watched over by the detail leader, where two seats are designated for the Secret Service.
I sat down in an oversize first class type of seat, which was standard throughout the plane. My shift mates sat down as well. The next thing I noticed was our shift leader closing the door that separated our compartment from that of the media. Our compartment had its own movie screen, and we began looking at the movie choices for the flight. All we had to do was select the one we wanted and push the button that corresponded to that movie, and it would run automatically.
As I settled in, an air force enlisted person came by and cheerfully offered sodas, coffee, and snacks. This, I happily realized, was par for the course on AF-1. If it were mealtime, they would bring sandwiches that always tasted better than anything from the best restaurants. This great service provided by the air force was especially welcome after a long day out with POTUS in large crowds, some of whom had not been through metal detectors. We would frequently arrive back at the plane exhausted and a bit stressed from a long day spent keeping the leader of the free world alive. No sooner would we take off our coats than the air force steward would be there with drinks, snacks, lunch, or dinner.