Budgetary, political, and organizational changes left the USAF unprepared for the combat search and rescue (CSAR) mission going into Desert Storm. Colonel Whitcomb relates his and others2 experiences from CSAR in Southeast Asia and examines the organization that was established to provide CSAR services in the Iraq-Kuwait theater of operations. He traces each incident from beginning to end along with the tactical and sometimes strategic implications. Scores of interviews, e-mails, and published works provide a compendium of lessons learned and recommendations gleaned from those who flew the missions and made the decisions in Iraq.
The history of a near-century of combat search and rescue, with an account of how the discipline was created and how it is administered—or neglected—today.
As a third-class cadet at the US Air Force Academy in July of 1970, I saw the war in Vietnam as a major determinant of my future. I just did not know then what part I might play in the conflict and felt a youthful, impatient need to decide on my Air Force career so I could see myself in what looked like the war of my generation. I found my calling on a beautiful California afternoon when 22 of us cadets were treated to a ride in an HH- 53C Super Jolly Green Giant of the Air Rescue and Recovery Service, a part of the Military Airlift Command. I enjoyed the ride. I sat beside a pararescueman, or "PJ," looking out at the treetops as we skimmed along. Turns were exciting, with the crew windows open up front and the wind flowing through the cabin. Unlike the rides I had taken in fighters and bombers, I was not breathing through a rubber mask, and I felt like I was in touch with the world below-a participant instead of a spectator. Afterwards, TSgt Stu Stanaland, the PJ, explained that the pilot, Maj Marty Donohue, was one of the best in the rescue business. Months later back in school, we were all captivated by news of the attempt to rescue US prisoners of war (POW) at Son Tay in North Vietnam. When I learned that the raid had been conducted using rescue helicopters, I read all I could find about the mission. President Nixon later decorated the mission leaders, saying they had performed flawlessly and fought courageously without losing a man; and the mission had not succeeded only because of bad intelligence-the POWs had been moved from the Son Tay camp. As I watched the presentation on television, I spotted Major Donohue among the honorees. Now I was hooked. I made a career decision to fly helicopters, get into rescue, and join those guys for life. That resolution held up through my senior year when the commandant of cadets told all us prospective helicopter pilots we were making a mistake that would deny us a rewarding career. "If you become helicopter pilots, you will not be in my Air Force," he said. Still, it was what I wanted most to do and what I did. While in HH-53 transition, the most respected instructor pilot-an Air Force Cross recipient named Ben Orrell-told me rescue was a job to be proud of and that it would be sufficient in itself to make a career rewarding. Soon after, and still a second lieutenant, I flew my first combat mission-the Mayaguez recovery in 1975. We flew as wingman to another HH-53, which included Sergeant Stanaland among its crew members. I had joined those rescue guys. The years between then and now have seen many changes but almost nothing new. The rescue men-and now also women- are called to enter dangerous territory, flying low and slow, going where a usually faster, less-vulnerable aircraft has recently been shot down. Instead of having a couple of days' time to prepare and entering the mission into the air tasking order (ATO) several days prior to execution, the rescue folks go there from a "cold start" launch from alert status. They could enhance their preparation by reading the ATO and plotting where the danger areas for shoot-downs might be, but a large, complex air campaign may cover an entire country. As you may deduce from this book, a major lesson learned from Desert Storm is that making the command and control arrangements murky and time-consuming further complicates the task of air rescue. Also, they may not be adequately equipped for the mission, yet the demand for immediate, must-succeed operations remains. During the first Gulf War of 1991, air rescue was in a state of transition and largely performed by aircraft and crews assigned to special operations units.
On February 15, 1991, Captain Steve Phillis was leading his wingman, Lieutenant Rob Sweet, on their thirtieth combat mission of Desert Storm flying the A-10 Warthog. They were tasked with attacking Iraq’s vaunted Medina Division of the Republican Guards—by far their most dangerous mission of the war. Near the end of their attacks, Rob was forced to eject from his aircraft and began a five-minute parachute ride down to the troops he and Steve had just finished bombing. Steve, an experienced combat search and rescue pilot and distinguished graduate of the Air Force Fighter Weapons School, immediately sprang into action to save the life of his wingman. After spending three minutes and forty-five seconds circling Sweet, Steve’s A-10 was hit by an enemy surface-to-air missile. Five Nickels: True Story of the Desert Storm Heroics and Sacrifice of Air Force Captain Steve Phillis, is a love story. Steve loved his family, fiancée, fellow fighter pilots, country, wingman, and life. Yet he was willing to risk them all to fight—and if necessary, die—for what he believed in. Steve’s story—from Rock Island, Illinois to the Air Force Academy, to his life as an A-10 fighter pilot—is the stuff of heroes. As Steve’s Academy classmate and boxing partner, fellow fighter pilot and “Top Gun” graduate, Jim “Boots” Demarest is uniquely qualified to tell Steve’s story. A gifted storyteller, Boots shares his experience with Steve from the Academy Boxing Team to paint a complete picture of the man who had so much to live for, yet was willing to risk it all to do the right thing. Five Nickels is filled with the details of Steve’s life and loves that will capture, enchant, and pull readers in. His story of combat heroics in the face of incredible danger will captivate and inspire all who read it.
February 24th, 1991: It's the first day of the ground war in Operation Desert Storm. To support the massive attack, an eight man US Army Special Forces team is inserted 150 miles inside Iraq to covertly reconnoiter a key highway connecting Baghdad and Kuwait. The members of the team--designated "Operational Detachment Alpha-525"-are known among their peers as "The Sharkmen." This is their first combat mission in Desert Storm. If this had been a perfect mission no one would have known they were there. They would have dropped in, done their job for a week, then exited under cover and returned to base. But this isn't a perfect mission. Within hours it will all go to hell. This is the true story of the improbable rescue of ODA-525, told in the words of the men who were there, on the ground and in the air.
Jerry Thigpen's study on the history of the Combat Talon is the first effort to tell the story of this wonderfully capable machine. This weapons system has performed virtually every imaginable tactical event in the spectrum of conflict and by any measure is the most versatile C-130 derivative ever produced. First modified and sent to Southeast Asia (SEA) in 1966 to replace theater unconventional warfare (UW) assets that were limited in both lift capability and speed the Talon I quickly adapted to theater UW tasking including infiltration and resupply and psychological warfare operations into North Vietnam. After spending four years in SEA and maturing into a highly respected UW weapons system the Joint Chief of Staff (JCS) chose the Combat Talon to lead the night low-level raid on the North Vietnamese prison camp at Son Tay. Despite the outcome of the operation the Talon I cemented its reputation as the weapons system of choice for long-range clandestine operations. In the period following the Vietnam War United States Air Force (USAF) special operations gradually lost its political and financial support which was graphically demonstrated in the failed Desert One mission into Iran. Thanks to congressional supporters like Earl Hutto of Florida and Dan Daniel of Virginia funds for aircraft upgrades and military construction projects materialized to meet the ever-increasing threat to our nation. Under the leadership of such committed hard-driven officers as Brenci Uttaro Ferkes Meller and Thigpen the crew force became the most disciplined in our Air Force. It was capable of penetrating hostile airspace at night in a low-level mountainous environment covertly to execute any number of unconventional warfare missions.
This report describes research to quantify the "rescuability window" of downed aircrews to assist the U.S. Air Force's reassessment of its personnel recovery force structure.
They flew low and slow, at treetop level, at night, in monsoons, and in point-blank range of enemy guns and missiles. They were missions no one else wanted, but the ones all other pilots prayed for when shot down. Flying the World War II-vintage Douglas A-1 Skyraider, a single-engine, propeller-driven relic in a war of “fast-movers,” these intrepid US Air Force pilots, call sign Sandy, risked their lives with every mission to rescue thousands of downed Navy and Air Force pilots. With a flashback memory and a style all his own, George J. Marrett depicts some of the most dangerous aerial combat of any war. The thrilling rescue of “Streetcar 304” and William Jones's selfless act of heroism that earned him the Medal of Honor are but two of the compelling tales he recounts. Here too are the courages Jolly Green Giant helicopter crews, parajumpers, and forward air controllers who worked with the Sandys over heavily defended jungles and mountains well behind enemy lines. Passionate, mordantly witty, and filled with heart-pounding adrenaline, Cheating Death reads like the finest combat fiction, but it is the real deal: its heroes, cowards, jokers, and casualties all have names and faces readers will find difficult to forget.
