Russians and the Persian Gulf was no doubt high on the Soviets’ list of targets to find and eradicate.
The three M-577 command-post vehicles that made up the tactical-operations center, or
TOC
, of the 2nd Brigade were set side by side. The canvas extensions from all three vehicles were up and connected. This provided a work area for the staff officers on duty.
Maps depicting the brigade’s situation, the enemy situation, artillery targets and contingency plans were hanging from poles that supported the extensions. Between the maps were status boards showing critical information such as the current organization of the brigade, the status and number of weapons systems available by unit, and radio call signs and frequencies. Radio speakers and hand mikes as well as tactical telephones were placed on tables throughout the
TOC
so that the appropriate staff officer could look at his map or update a board while talking on the phone or listening to the radio. To a casual observer, the
TOC
was sheer bedlam.
The confined area was filled with people coming and going, three different briefings were going on at the same time, phones were ringing. To the operations and intelligence personnel of 2nd Brigade, it was home.
Matthews sat before the intelligence map and posted information that had been received during the night but had not been posted during the move north. Though the situation was threatening, it was looking better than it had looked two days earlier. The two divisions moving toward them had been slowed down considerably. A combination of ground attacks by forces cut off but still fighting, raids carried out by the 17th Airborne along the
Soviets’ line of march and attacks by the Air Force had had the effect of slowing the Soviets and buying time for the 2nd Brigade to deploy.
Matthews’ current projections showed that it would be four to five days before the Soviets could mount a deliberate breakthrough attack against the brigade. By then, they would be as ready as they ever would.
The deployment of the 2nd Brigade bothered Matthews. The tank and mechanized battalions, reorganized into combined-arms task forces, had been placed across the main avenues of approach to the south. The 3rd Battalion of the 4th Armor sat on the road and blocked it. The 1st of the 29th
Infantry was covering a secondary avenue to its east. These units, placed in close proximity, could support each other in a pinch depending on where the Soviets made their main effort. But the use of a light infantry battalion attached to the brigade gave her concern. A valley west of the brigade’s main sector ran south from Harvand, past Hajjiabad to Tarom. The infantry battalion was assigned the responsibility of covering this approach. Because the road network was so bad there, the 12th Division G-2 felt that the Soviets would not risk sending heavy forces south through
Harvand. If that did happen, the infantry battalion was, in their opinion, capable of stopping the enemy in the restricted terrain there. Failing that, the battalion could delay the enemy long enough for the armored or mech task forces to shift over and reinforce the air assault battalion. When Matthews volunteered that no infantry unit had yet been able to delay, let alone stop, a Soviet mounted attack, she was politely told to confine her attention to Soviet operations.
While she had some support for her position, no one changed the plan as it stood. For better or worse, the die for the 2nd Brigade’s first battle was cast. After thirty eight days of waiting and twelve thousand miles of travel, they were at the front.
Russians, in the knowledge of inexhaustible supplies of manpower, are accustomed to accepting gigantic fatalities with comparative calm.
-
BARBARA
W.
TUCHMAN
East of Aliabad 1345 Hours, 7 July (1015 Hours, 7 July,
GMT
) The town suddenly became clearly visible in the distance as the two F15s flew over a low ridge. Martain tilted the plane slightly to the right and began to accelerate. “Aliabad dead ahead. Air defense status?”
The wizzo scanned his instruments. There was no indication of Soviet target-acquisition radar signals. “All clear. Go for it.”
“It” in this case was a fuel dump that had been located in the vicinity of
Aliabad by an early-morning air reconnaissance. The Soviets were still setting it up and had not had enough time to complete its camouflage before the sun was up. One fuel bladder, completely full, and a partial view of second fuel bladder being camouflaged, plus a five-thousand-gallon fuel tanker, caught the eye of a photo-image interpreter aboard the carrier
U.S.S. Hornet. Knowing that fuel dumps were high-priority targets, he passed the photos and his analysis immediately to his supervisor, a staff intelligence officer. The officer confirmed the analysis and forwarded the information and the photos via facsimile to the intelligence section of
CENT
COM
aboard the U.S.S. Berkshire. There the information was again reviewed, this time against photos of the same area the day before.
Once it was verified that the target was new and was in fact a fuel dump, the information was passed on to a targeting officer.
The targeting officer reviewed the target profile and analysis along with those of other targets, assigned a priority to the fuel dump and placed it on the consolidated target list. Its place came immediately after nuclear capable Soviet units and headquarters of divisions or higher units.
Once the target list was completed, assets available to hit those targets were assigned. The targeting process is difficult in that not all targets are marked for destruction and there are never enough assets available to hit all targets. Some, such as
“command-and-control nodes,” or headquarters, can have high-tech intelligence assets focused on them in order to gain more information.
The same command-and-control node could also be neutralized with electronic jammers that would impair its ability to command subordinate elements. If the target is sufficiently stationary, special operations forces could be deployed to strike it. In the case of the fuel dump at Aliabad, a squadron of F-15Es was assigned the task of taking it out immediately.
Once the target list was approved, orders were cut and sent out to the appropriate headquarters. All information concerning the targets went along. The operations officer of the unit assigned to each target developed the unit’s plan of attack, or, if time permitted and it was necessary, additional recon of the target was requested before the final plan was developed. The wing operations officer reviewing the intelligence data on the fuel dump decided against additional recon. He had sufficient data to work with.
An air attack involved several different players and was planned in phases.
These phases normally included the flight to the target by the attack aircraft, suppression of enemy air-defense elements, called
SEA
DE
(pronounced “seed”), by special aircraft, the actual attack on the target, and the return. If the primary target could not be hit or did not require all the ordnance being carried, a strike against a secondary target was also planned.
Travel to and from the target had to be carefully planned by the operations officer of the assigned unit, since the attacking planes would be flying not only over enemy air-defense units but also over friendly forces armed with air-defense weapons. To ensure against errors by nervous soldiers believing in the philosophy of “Shoot them down and sort them out on the ground,” temporary air corridors to be used by the attackers would be set up. Army air-defense elements would receive the word about where these air corridors were and when they would be open. The rules are quite simple when it comes to air corridors: Any plane in an air corridor when it is open cannot be engaged by friendly forces unless the aircraft is definitely identified as hostile. If friendly aircraft stray from established air corridors or miss the established times, they are fair game to ground antiaircraft fire.
Dealing with enemy air defenses can be done by hitting the air-defense units or their radars, by jamming the airdefense radars or by simply avoiding them. Specialized aircraft and units, called “Wild Wessels,”
do nothing but suppress enemy air defense in support of attack missions. They precede the attackers and clear a corridor through enemy air defenses so that the attackers can reach the target and get back. Air-superiority fighters are also assigned to provide high cover against enemy fighters on patrol or intentionally dispatched to bounce the attackers.
An attack such as the one on the fuel dump requires split-second timing and a great deal of coordination. All services practice such operations in peace and rapidly get very good at it once war commences.
Martain was not pleased when he drew the mission to hit the fuel dump.
As the squadron’s premier fighter pilot, With eight kills to his credit, he felt he belonged with the 217 aircraft providing cover, not playing mud mover. The squadron commander, however, was adamant that everyone do his time in the ground-attack role. “After all,” the squadron commander said, “if the government wanted you to be a fighter pilot they would have given you a big watch and a cheap airplane.”
Martain and his wingman would be the first of four aircraft that would hit the fuel dump. If Omaha Flight succeeded in taking out the fuel dump on its pass, the remaining two planes would hit an unidentified headquarters located a little farther north. The rest of the squadron was assigned the task of providing high cover to the attacking aircraft. For the mission, both Omaha 01 and 02 were carrying over sixteen thousand pounds of bombs, mostly Rockeye cluster bombs, with four 750-pound general-purpose bombs each for good measure. This was in addition to their Sidewinder and Sparrow air-to-air missiles for self-defense.
As Omaha Flight came screaming up over the ridge and veered to the northwest at a speed in excess of 550 miles an hour, Martain was reminded of how nervous he got when he was moving that fast one hundred feet off the ground. Their attack profile would be a low approach, followed by a quick pop up to identify the target, and a diving attack.
Once all bombs were released, which would take only a second, he would go low again, kick in his after burner and get the hell out of Dodge before the people on the ground knew what had happened and got pissed.
Omaha 02 would be right beside him, with Vegas Flight thirty seconds behind.
As they approached the pop-up point, Martain again asked his wizzo whether they had been tagged by radar. A short “Negative” was all he had time for before Martain began to climb and search for landmarks. He had only a second to do so. Starting from the town, he looked to the west until he found a small kidney-shaped hill and then a road. Keeping his eyes glued on a point between the hill and the road, he turned his aircraft toward it.
The fuel dump was tucked into that area.
All his energies and attention were now totally oriented to that spot.
His thumb flipped up the red cover that 218 protected the bomb-release button. With ease born of hours of training, he turned the F-15 over onto its side, then down into a dive, all the time watching the hill as it grew larger and closer. Martain could now see people scurrying from under camouflage nets, running for shelter or weapons. Tracers were racing up at him. The people on the ground knew he was coming and what he was after. A flash and a streak of white smoke to one side of the F-15, seen in the corner of his eye, told
Martain he was being engaged by anSA-7 surface-to-air missile.
But it was too late. The F-15 was on the mark. The target was in the box in his sight. All was set. Martain hit the button and felt the aircraft suddenly spring up as it became sixteen thousand pounds lighter. In an instant he hit his after burners, flattened out his dive and charged south as fast as his engines could carry them.
Neither he nor his wizzo could see the effects of their work. They didn’t need to. The leader of Vegas Flight coming up behind reported that the target appeared to be destroyed and that he was going after the secondary target.
Five K(lometers North of HajJiabad 1935 Hours, 7 July (1605 Hours, 7
July,
GMT
)
The sun was casting long shadows on the ground by the time Major Dixon returned to the command post of the 3rd of the 4th Armor. As he approached, the glint of the late-afternoon sun reflecting off uncovered glass caught his eye. As his Bradley grew nearer, he was disturbed to see several vehicles scattered throughout the area without camouflage nets up or cloth covering their windows or mirrors. He could not get over how totally stupid some people were. What use was it to put nets up over the
TOC
if everyone and his brother who owned a vehicle parked it outside? From the air the CP must look like a used-military-vehicle parking lot.
Even before he was within range, Dixon began to call out for the headquarters commandant. A young captain, too young to command the monster that the battalion’s headquarters company was, came out from under a net not far from the
TOC
.
Without shutting down the engine or getting down from atop his Bradley,
Dixon bellowed out, “Ellis, get these gawddamned vehicles outa here or
I’ll run ‘em over!” Ellis looked up at the red-faced major and attempted to explain, but was cut off as Dixon yelled, “Now, Captain-today!”
It was only after Ellis had rushed off to find the drivers that Dixon noticed the bumper numbers on two of the uncovered hummers. One of them belonged to the brigade commander and the other to the brigade S-3. Not expecting an answer, he asked himself out loud, “What in the hell is the brigade commander and his three doing running around in hummers?” No doubt they had their reasons, but none that he could think of at that moment.
Both had more sense than that, or so Dixon assumed.
Once inside the
TOC
, Dixon saw his battalion commander talking to both the brigade commander and the S-3. First Lieutenant Matthews was over in one corner talking to the battalion S-2.