by Tom Clancy
Lieutenant Colonel John Allen (third from left) and the BLT 2/6 plan operations during JTFEX-95 in August of 1995.
JOHN D. GRESHAM
As for the R&S mission itself, the job of the various teams was to position themselves at strategic points around Camp Lejeune and pass their observations back to the JIC aboard Wasp. Nine of the teams would be "eyes"-observation-capable, while the tenth would include a radio-intelligence capability for intercepting enemy short-range tactical communications. It was hoped that these--together with intelligence assets from JTF-11, the America CVBG, and national sources--would shine some light through the "fog of war" that always obscures force-on-force engagements. Some of these other intelligence assets included the ships' SSES spaces, the PHIBRON's Pioneer UAVs from the Shreveport, TARPS imagery from the VF-102 F-14 Tomcats, ES-3 Shadow ELINT/SIGINT aircraft, as well as several new systems that were being tested in this exercise.
For the R&S units, their ROEs were simple: If possible, don't engage enemy forces. They were clandestine reconnaissance teams; their job was to avoid detection by the Red security forces. They could use force only in self-defense. This meant they would be allowed to lay simulated Claymore mines, but they could not use incendiary weapons. According to the insertion plan, the ten teams would board the three CH-53s at 2200 hours, and lift off at 2215. The flight would take over seventy minutes (we were still several hundred miles away from Onslow Bay). The choppers would fly in formation at low level, and would use every deceptive trick available to keep the locations of the teams secret from the Red forces. Should an evacuation be required, a TRAP team would be in continuous standby, and ready to pick up any team from any LZ that they could access.
Marines of the 26th MEU (SOC)s reconnaissance teams embark on an HMM-264 CH-53E Super Stallion on the afternoon of July 18th, 1995. This mission was in support of JTFEX-95, which was running at the time.
JOHN D. GRESHAM
After the briefing broke up, I wandered up topside to get some air. While the flight deck is usually restricted, there is a wide catwalk along the starboard side of the island where the rules are relaxed; it is a favorite among the crew. This is wonderful place to sit and watch the sea. So I found a folding chair and sat awhile. Alongside Wasp was a fleet oiler, which was shooting messenger lines across the space between the ships to set up for a refueling. At the same time, UH-46Ds were shuttling back and forth from the oiler to the ships of the ARG, lifting and delivering pallets of food and aircraft parts and whatever else the ships needed. All this seemed so bizarre it was almost unnatural--like watching hippos dancing. Bizarre or not, the ability to refuel and resupply at sea sets a great power apart from those nations with only coastal defense forces. These operations went on for over an hour, and only the coming darkness and dinner caused me to break away and head back inside.
USS Wasp, 200 nm/366 km Northwest of Camp Lejeune, North Carolina, 2100 Hours, July 18th, 1995
At 2100 hours, I joined Lieutenant Colonel Allen on the hangar deck to talk with the members of the various R&S teams that were preparing to head upstairs and board their helicopters. For this mission HMM-264 to made ready all four of their CH-53E Super Stallions, so there would be a bump aircraft in case one went "down." As I walked around the hangar bay, the teams were checking their weapons and other equipment, particularly their communications gear. This included a number of satellite-radio and HF sets, which were designed to provide secure communications back to the Wasp. Every team had at least one GPS receiver. Some had Trimble PLGR units, and the rest had the newer handheld Rockwell SLRGs.
At 2145 hours, the 1MC announced Flight Quarters, and things began to pick up. I walked up the ramp from the hangar deck to the island and waited there with the fifty-two R&S team members, quietly sweating in the subdued lighting. As I waited for the engines to start, Colonel Battaglini moved quietly up the ramp, talking softly to his Marines, encouraging them to keep tough and focused on what was clearly going to be a long and hot four day mission in the bush. The order to start engines came at 2200, the teams loaded up, and then the Super Stallions held, awaiting final clearance from the Air Boss. As I watched from the island, I could see the blue flares of static electricity flying off the rotor blades of the CH-53s, looking like something out of a science-fiction movie. Then, at 2215, the three choppers lifted off, immediately dousing their normal red and green navigation lights (they have infrared and subdued green ones for clandestine operations), formed a stepped formation, and headed southwest for Camp Lejeune. As quiet returned to Wasp's flight deck, I headed down to the officers' mess for mid-rats and what I expected to be a fairly early evening.
That all changed just eight minutes later at 2223 hours. Flying low over the water to avoid radar detection by the air traffic control radars at MCAS New River, the three Super Stallions ran smack into a gift from Tropical Storm Chantal. The cold front had moved in over the warm water of the Gulf Stream, and a thick bank of fog had come up with no warning. Suddenly flying blind on night-vision goggles is a very dangerous situation, and peacetime rules require a quick, prescribed response. The three crews went into a pre-planned separation maneuver, formed up again north of the fog bank, and immediately aborted the insertion mission. All of this was done without radio transmissions, to avoid revealing to the Red forces radio-interception units that anything untoward had happened. Less than a half hour after liftoff, the whole force was back aboard the Wasp, pleased that they had safely handled the emergency, but angry that the MEU (SOC)'s entire intelligence-collection plan had just gone into the scrap heap.
Meanwhile, the normally calm demeanor of Battaglini and Allen was showing some cracks. I quickly followed them down to the LFOC, where they sat their staffs down and began to make plans to rebuild as much of the R&S plan as they could. Some damage, they knew, could not be undone: In addition to the situational awareness they would give up because of the absence of the R&S team, they would lose a full day of supporting fires from air strikes and offshore destroyers. At 0200, while everyone was still tensely trying to make the best of a tangled situation, I excused myself back to my cabin to get some sleep. "Friction" had again struck a MEU (SOC) mission. Things were going to get very interesting in the three days left in the JTFEX-95 exercise.
USS Wasp, Wednesday, July 19th, 1995
By reveille at 0600, the folks in the LFOC had come up with a plan to restart the stillborn R&S effort of the night before. Overnight, they had put together an unconventional insertion plan based on the fact that Camp Lejeune was their home base and they knew how it worked. All told, there are over thirty thousand Marines based there, which means that men moving across the base in full kit is as common as the sun coming up. It also turned out that the 26th had left a "stay-behind" counterintelligence team ashore after the completion of the SOCEX, and this was to be used to support the new insertion plan. So, after a few calls on a cellular phone, arrangements were made to re-run the CH-53E insertion mission of the night before that afternoon. In addition, the ashore team was to conduct a covert observation of the Red headquarters and go through their office trash, looking for documents related to the coming operation. These would be FAXed out to the Wasp via a secure link. Finally, the Pioneer UAV detachment on the Shreveport was ordered to run as many sorties as possible to obtain naval gunfire targets for the USS Scott (DDG-995).
By 1800, these measures had been put into effect, and dinner was attended by an extremely tired pool of officers in the wardroom. By now, the BLT and MEU (SOC) staffs had been up for almost thirty-six hours straight, and they still had one more big event to go before this evening was finished--the dress rehearsal for the operational confirmation briefing that would be held the following morning. This briefing would provide a detailed look at the Friday morning assault on the Kartunan homeland. Held at 2000 hours, the briefing went over every detail of the planned "invasion." And it was a complete bust...mostly because the tired young officers hadn't been able to put the necessary time and coordination into their b
riefing slides. When they were done, Jim Battaglini, a man of few words, stood up and made his displeasure clear. "Get it right for tomorrow," he commanded. At the morning briefing, the ground and amphibious forces component commanders from JTF-11 were scheduled to fly over from the Mount Whitney to review the invasion plan, and he wanted it right. After suggesting that the young officers work out their problems over mid-rats, he left to head back to the LFOC. Then the young officers headed back to their staterooms to retrieve their notes and laptop computers.
Returning to the wardroom at 2315, they discovered that mess specialists had pulled out all the stops...in the form of hot ham-and-cheese-melt sandwiches and a small mountain of French fries. Soon you could feel the energy and morale level of the group change as they munched their way through the coordination problems that had plagued their briefings. As the group broke around 0100 to get some sack time, I wandered down to the LFOC to see how things were going. During the evening intelligence briefing I'd noticed some disturbing trends in the air campaign, and I wanted to talk to John Allen about them. I wasn't the only one to pick up on this situation. In fact, by the time I found Allen, Colonel Battaglini had already started to deal with it. He had called Allen and the ACE commander, Lieutenant Colonel "Peso" Kerrick, for a short talk, and at their invitation I joined them.
Directed by the JTF-11 staff aboard Mount Whitney, the air campaign against the Red forces had so far been a mixed affair. While the Koronan naval forces had been decimated, their air force had suffered less than 30% attrition in over two days of operations. Worse yet, the simulated force of Exocet-armed Mirages and Super Pumas was making a nuisance of itself, and had just scored a hypothetical hit against the nuclear-powered cruiser South Carolina (CGN-37). Though the missile warhead was assessed to have been a "dud," the battle group commander was extremely upset. Predictably, he was demanding better protection for his ships. What happened was the JTF-11 staff had allowed their air units to be drawn into a personal duel with the Koronan air force, and were failing to keep up with their operational objectives. For instance, several planned air strikes against ground targets had yet to be executed. And this meant that on Friday morning Lieutenant Colonel Allen's BLT might walk into a fight against a force that overmatched his in armor and artillery, and was dug in on the very objectives he was required to take. While Battaglini, Allen, and Kerrick put together a plan to deal with this situation, I headed back to my own stateroom, wondering how all these "friction" elements were going to effect what was happening in less than twenty-four hours on the North Carolina coast.
USS Wasp, 50 nm/91.4 km West of Onslow Beach, 0600 Hours, July 20th, 1995
At 0630 the next morning, I was sitting across from Lieutenant Colonel Allen, and he was showing a thin smile; he had gotten some sleep, and things were looking decidedly better than the previous night. For starters, his R&S teams were reporting in and finally delivering the kind of targeting data he needed to knock back some of the Red forces. In addition, the JTF-11 ground component CO, General Keane, seemed to have finally "persuaded" the JTF-11 staff to remember some of his mission objectives, and there had been air strikes against the planned targets ashore. There were also some excellent results from the surveillance of Red force's garbage. John Allen wasn't the only one looking on top of the world. All around the mess area, you could feel new energy. The 26th had just eighteen hours until the invasion... and there was a feeling that they might pull it off.
By 0900, the officers' mess had been reconfigured to support the mass confirmation briefing for the invasion. It was set to begin when the ground and other component commanders, who were flying over from Mount Whitney, made their appearance. The ground CO for JTF-11 was General John M. Keane, the commander of the Army's famed 101 st Air Assault Division. "Sadly," he didn't exactly make it--another example of "friction." After the simulated Exocet attack on South Carolina the previous evening, the fleet AAW coordinator was convinced that he needed to provide a tighter defensive screen for the JTF-11 naval forces. So he upped the alert level and ROE of the picket ships armed with surface-to-air missiles (SAMs) to "Warning Yellow--Weapons Hold," meaning that attack by enemy air units was expected. A Blue ship detecting a confirmed unfriendly aircraft should shoot it down immediately--the equivalent of shooting first and asking questions later. When the SH-3 Sea King helicopter carrying the component commanders and their staff flew from Mount Whitney to Wasp, its electronic Identification Friend or Foe (IFF) transponder was mistakenly turned to the Off position. One of the escorting picket ships therefore shot it down with a simulated SAM. If the ship's AAW coordinator had been at a lower alert level, he would probably have taken the time to check the JTF-11 Air Tasking Order to see if the helicopter was a "friendly." But in his desire to avoid a strike by hostile forces, he screwed up seriously. The result: When the various commanders and their staffs arrived on Wasp, they were greeted with the news that they were "dead." They were notably unhappy by the time that they arrived in the officers' wardroom as simulated corpses.
The briefing began, and things went considerably better than they did the night before. The plan for the invasion of the Kartunan homeland was clearly laid out: At 0000 hours (midnight) that night, elements of the 26th MEU (SOC) would land inshore from Onslow Beach and along the New River inlet. The key to success was the capture of a causeway bridge and several strategic road junctions. This was to be accomplished in some innovative ways. Whidbey Island and Shreveport would be landing their armored task force in the inlet. The task force would use the AAVs as riverine gunboats to dominate this natural barrier through the middle of Camp Lejeune. Following them up the inlet would be a rifle company in the rubber raider craft. The company would take the northern part of the inlet. Another company would then be landed inland by helicopter to block the approaches to the landing beach near the point of the inlet. When this was done, the rest of the heavy equipment would be brought ashore on the LCACs.
The invasion of Lamp Lejeune during the August 1995 JTFEX-95 exercise.
JACK RYAN ENTREPRISES, LTD., BY LAURA ALPHER
As this operation proceeded, the 1/325th from the 82nd Airborne would parachute onto an airfield a few miles/kilometers inland, to provide a base for follow-on fly-in units. This would be followed by a helicopter insertion into a LZ to support the amphibious landings. There would also be a series of deception operations--such as the temporary unloading of the portable toilets into a dummy LZ--to encourage the Red forces to believe that the landing would be occurring at the easternside of the training area. With luck, the Red forces would be drawn there. By the way, don't laugh at the portable toilets scam. Even though we were in a "war," EPA and DoD regulations about waste disposal still applied.
After the briefing broke up, I headed over to the LFOC to see how the war was going. When I arrived, it was clear that the 26th was now playing "their" game with the Koronan forces. The Red force command and control capabilities were down to less than 50% effectiveness, their navy was out, and the JTF-11 staff was successfully using their airpower: The OPFOR air forces were also down under 50%. Just to make sure that enough sorties went against ground targets, Colonel Battaglini had arranged for extra air strikes by VMA-231 AV-8B Harrier IIs from MCAS Cherry Point. The Harriers had been left home for this exercise and the SOCEX to prepare for the coming deployment, but were called in now to provide the 26th with some "Marine" airpower that they could depend upon! By noon, the VMA-231 Harriers had flown their first strikes. I spent the afternoon visiting the LFOC and spending time on the portside island catwalk enjoying the peace before the storm. After dinner, I watched Wasp's combat cargo crews load the LCACs and helicopters with Dennis Arinello for the first wave that would leave at 0000 hours.
Well Deck of the USS Wasp, 0000 Hours, July 21st, 1995
Marines of the 26th MEU (SOC) come ashore in rubber raider craft during a 1995 exercise at Camp Lejeune, N.C.
JOHN D. GRESHAM
The LCACs would go in on the first wave of the invasio
n. These craft would carry the LAR/CAAT team to the beach as a covering force for the units that would follow. If all went well, the full combat power of the 26th would be ashore before sunrise (about 0600 hours) and then off-load the rest of the equipment ASAP after that. There was more than just a desire for combat efficiency involved by now; this landing meant that however JTFEX-95 came out, they would be home shortly. As the earsplitting whine from the LCACs faded into the distance, you could hear the 1 MC announce Flight Quarters. Then the first wave of four AH-1W Cobra attack helicopters was launched, along with a UH-1N Huey with John Allen and his staff aboard. Things were getting busy, and would stay that way through the night. But for now, I went back to my stateroom to catch a few winks before reveille.
USS Wasp, 0600 Hours, July 21st, 1995
I was already awake when the 1 MC blared its wake-up greeting at 0600, a sign that I was getting into the routine aboard ship. After a quick breakfast, I headed down to the LFOC one last time to see how things were going. It turned out that I was too late. By midday, the main Red force units had been engaged and defeated by BLT 2/6. The battle would continue for another twenty-four hours to completely secure the objectives, but it was a total victory for the 26th MEU (SOC). Everything was over before the sun set the next day. Despite problems with the close air support at H-Hour, and a breakdown in communications with the R&S teams, all the landings had gone as planned. Early on contact with the Koronan forces had been surprisingly light. We learned later that many of the Red force artillery pieces, tanks, and other armored vehicles had been knocked out by the last-minute air strikes and offshore destroyer gunfire. The airdrop by the 82nd Airborne's 1/325th had also gone well.