Lords of the Sky: Fighter Pilots and Air Combat, From the Red Baron to the F-16 (71 page)

Dawn actually brought something very different, and not at all what he had in mind. More than 2,700 coalition sorties would be flown during those first twenty-four hours. KARI was overwhelmed and destroyed, leaving the centralized Iraqi High Command blind and deaf. After the next few days they’d be toothless as well. With the first priorities of early warning and command control obliterated, airstrikes now began a systematic rollback campaign against critical infrastructure and military targets.

Anytime an Iraqi fighter got airborne, it was shot down. One U.S. strike package in northern Iraq was eleven minutes late to their target because the entire bunch of F-16s, F-4s, and F-15s found two hapless MiG-23s running for Iran. All forty jets wheeled east and gave chase while the panicked Iraqis fled across the border. It was the same for SAMs; if one came up, it was immediately targeted and all efforts were made to destroy it.

But the air war had some glitches. The strikers generally attacked their targets from vast, unwieldy packages called “Gorillas.” A remnant from Vietnam and reinforced through two decades of peacetime exercises, a Gorilla was a long train of four-ship flights that stretched for miles. If everyone was on time, the weather cooperated, and there were no threat reactions then it worked well enough.

But that was a lot of ifs.

It was also done at medium altitudes above 20,000 feet. There were some Navy and British Tornado flights that went in low and got hammered from Triple-A and SAMs. Bottom line, there really wasn’t a reason to do it. If there had been, all right, but the use of precision guided munitions generally precluded this. Besides the Walleye, Maverick missiles came in both infrared and electro-optical (TV) versions and were rocket-powered. Primarily designed for anti-armor, in 1991 the TV Maverick had a range of only a few miles. The IR D-model Maverick had a much better stand-off capability but suffered from normal infrared problems like temperature changes and dust.

Laser-guided bombs (LGBs) were glide weapons, old MK-82 and MK-84 bombs that were retrofitted to permit guidance on a laser “spot” from the launching aircraft. LGBs were slow, but they were cheap and very accurate. Still, the overwhelming tonnage of bombs dropped in 1991 were “dumb,” in that they had no guidance once dropped, and so they went where they’d been aimed. However, the accuracy of weapons delivery systems by this point obviated much of the error. Pilots could use radar-assisted deliveries for night or bad-weather attacks and a variety of computed options under better conditions.

The CCIP pipper used by the Israelis in 1973 had been improved to where a skilled pilot could put a dumb bomb within three feet of where he wanted it. Air-to-ground radar burst ranging was directed through the pipper, giving precise angles and distances to the target. The pilot had to fly the correct parameters (see appendix B) for his chosen weapon, but if he did that and pickled on the desired impact point, then that’s where the bombs would go. Every weapon, or “store,” in the U.S. inventory was preloaded in the aircraft’s stores management system (SMS) with its associated ballistics. It was then selected from an electronic menu with all the fusing options and timing.

The continuously computed release point (CCRP) was another method that used a known target location to calculate a release point for a selected weapon. This had been developed for the old GDB blind delivery system and adapted for nuclear bombing deliveries. However, it would work for any target with a known latitude and longitude, such as buildings, bridges, and oil refineries. By the Gulf War, space-based global positioning system coordinates were available, and this permitted exact bombing, even from medium altitudes.

Air-to-air fire control radars permitted a lethality that would’ve been unimaginable a generation earlier. Earlier systems had severe limits when looking down over land due to “clutter” caused by the ground. Pulses from airborne radars couldn’t distinguish the small return of a target against the big return from the earth. One reason why the British Chain Home stations were so effective was that incoming German aircraft had no clutter to hide in over the English Channel. This clutter problem had been solved by measuring the velocity shift of a target return as well as its range. Think of an ambulance siren; as it draws closer, the sound becomes louder, and as it moves away the sound recedes. Caused by sound waves bunching up and then spreading out, this Doppler shift can be precisely measured.
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So velocity information is now combined with exact ranging from pulsed signals thus giving a very precise targeting solution. Better solutions mean much more effective radar missiles are possible and an enemy fighter is killed long before he can engage.

Superb and realistic prewar training plus the technology gap ensured that if an Iraqi got into the air, he would never land—at least not in a single piece or in his own country. Thirty-eight fighters were shot down, and the cost was (maybe) one F/A-18.
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After a monthlong air campaign Saddam Hussein was reeling. His vaunted air force had been mauled, and his air defense system, so effective against Iran, had been shut down. Surface-to-air missiles and thousands of anti-aircraft guns still operated, but without any centralized control. When radars turned on to fight, usually a Maverick missile or a Walleye came through the roof. Understandably, many of the SAM battery commanders decided to wait out the conflict rather than die from a threat they couldn’t see. After all, they reasoned, the coalition wouldn’t invade Iraq—that would be madness against the world’s fourth-largest army.

But that is precisely what happened on February 24, 1991.

Crossing the Saudi-Kuwaiti border, the U.S. Marine 1st and 2nd Divisions with the 1st Light Armored Infantry Battalion headed toward Kuwait City. The main thrust came from the U.S. VII Corps, with the French 6th Light Armored on its left and British 1st Armored on the right. Ground operations into Iraq had actually begun at the end of January with several eight-man patrols from B Squadron of the British Special Air Service. They’d gathered targeting information, destroyed fiber-optic communications links, and eliminated SCUD missile launchers aimed at Israel.

If Israel was attacked (and Saddam had sworn to do just that), then Tel Aviv would retaliate. If this happened, Washington feared that the Saudis would withdraw their support, including basing for the hundreds of thousands of soldiers on their soil. This political handwringing was unfounded because if the British and Americans left, then who would defend the Ghawar oil fields? Certainly not the Saudis. Nevertheless, Israeli involvement would complicate an already complex situation.

The ground war lasted 100 hours, forcing the Iraqi army out of Kuwait. The retreat up Highway One toward Baghdad was an abject humiliation for Hussein and should’ve been a warning of things to come. In any event, the Coalition’s objective had been achieved and, unlike Vietnam, there was nothing vague about it. Sources vary on Coalition combat deaths, but about 300 lost their lives. Initial Iraqi casualties of 100,000 dead were grossly overestimated by the Defense Intelligence Agency; a more realistic postwar assessment was 8,000 to 10,000 combat casualties. Still, the disparity in numbers is quite revealing; as Lt. Gen. Tom Kelly said, “Iraq went from the fourth-largest army in the world to the second-largest army in Iraq in 100 hours.”

Over 109,000 combat sorties were flown, with 88,000 tons of ordnance delivered on Iraqi targets
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; the Allied coalition lost thirty-nine fixed-wing aircraft in combat, of which twenty-two were U.S. fighter/attack jets. One Specter gunship went down near Kuwait, and six RAF Tornados were lost. The completeness of the military victory lay in personnel quality and technical superiority with a sound plan and limited political interference. This was, and is, an unbeatable combination. Valuable lessons were learned that would impact how wars, and particularly American wars, would be fought for the foreseeable future. It was not an ideological quagmire managed by amateurs; it was a purely military operation, at least in the field.

The amazing variety of aircraft that emerged from Vietnam weren’t needed, but a house cleaning was. Older aircraft such as the F-111 and the venerable F-4 simply were not survivable on a modern battlefield, and their maintenance costs were prohibitive considering the aircraft’s value. Technological advances dictated that true multimission platforms were the future, though this wouldn’t always be remembered.
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Jamming, for instance, is essential, but why use a separate jet for it if a fighter can carry its own effective pod? Tactically, the war began as a mix of aircraft and tactics that had worked in peacetime and during the last shooting war. It was a struggle to figure out how best to employ a new generation of jets and weapons using older mentalities.

Fortunately, the Gorilla package was largely abandoned (except during certain exercises) in favor of compact, flexible smaller flights. Improvements such as data link and GPS obviated the need for flights to operate within sight of each other. Advances in weapons turned selective targeting into reality and generally achieved the desired results without dropping tons of bombs. This meant the ongoing refinement of PGMs and the systems required to get them on target. The advantages of night combat had always been known, but the practice of it was limited. This also changed following the Gulf War with better forward-looking infrared systems (FLIR) and, above all, the widespread use of night vision goggles (NVGs).

Tactical flexibility, always discussed but often ignored in favor of the tried and true, was brought to the forefront again. A low-altitude air force was suddenly forced to fight much higher, and this resulted in very different types of attacks than those previously perfected. Middle Eastern geography was also vastly different from the jungles of Southeast Asia or the forests of Europe. There were mountains, wide-open plains, and a deceptive morass of wadis, or gullies, offering shelter or camouflage. Wind and dust could kick up with no warning, rendering infrared weapons useless and interfering with electronics. Combat jets and their pilots needed to be able to fight anywhere, because no one knew where the next war would occur. Iraq clearly showed the danger in assuming too much.

Military lessons from the Gulf War were significant and had far-reaching consequences. Yet perhaps the greatest value lay in
how
America viewed war rather than in the methods of fighting one. It seemed that in the mistakes of the past had been rectified and never again would Americans be forced to fight blind and one-armed as they had 18 years before. Never again, it was hoped, would lives be risked for political rather than national security objectives.

Of course, it hasn’t worked out that way.

Lessons are forgotten and politics never really change. However, one very important specter has been laid to rest, at least for the United States. Protests against war, right or wrong, are directed at the source of the conflict and not at those who do the fighting. In this lies the true value of the Gulf War—the ghosts of Vietnam were finally laid to rest.

A
PRIL
1, 2003

N
EAR
B
AGHDAD
, I
RAQ

“Where’re ya hiding, ya little bastard?” the fighter pilot muttered, leaning forward and staring out over the canopy rail. Lizard skin. It looks like lizard skin, he thought. Dark brown and green splotches over a tan background. Except for the rivers. The Tigris, off to the east, was almost a steel gray color, meandering southeast like a broken snake. Beyond his other wing the Euphrates was a lighter green, almost an emerald tinged with milk.

He saw all this but didn’t process it. Not that way, at least. Rivers meant no air threats. The pilot saw roads and bridges; moving vehicles and, above all, popcorn bursts of anti-aircraft fire. Not for the first time he found being back here in combat slightly unreal. Twelve years earlier he’d been in these same skies fighting the same enemy.

“Toxic 03, this is Luger.”

“Go.”

“Toxic . . . I have Ozark One One inbound for Killbox 87 and 88 Alpha Bravo.”

The pilot, known to his friends as Scorch, squinted at the line-up card on his kneeboard. The arriving fighters were Hornets—F/A-18s from one of the carriers in the Gulf. He whistled softly. Fifteen miles from Baghdad was a long way for them to come. Gas would be tight. “Copy all. Ozark is cleared to both boxes above two zero zero. Have him come up Zinc 76.”

Beginning a wide, left turn away from Baghdad, he rolled out every few seconds looking for smoke trails. Often it was the only way to know a SAM had been fired. He also had an ALR-56 Radar Warning Receiver, ALE-50 towed decoys, plus chaff and flares. On the Viper’s center station the big ALQ-131 jamming pod was doing its thing. It could be programmed to cover five entire frequency bands with a variety of nose or deception programs.

Coming wings level heading west, Scorch looked down the wing at the big, U-shaped bend of the Tigris in the middle of Saddam’s capital. There were three . . . no, four SAM launches, all toward the north. He knew three other Weasel flights from his squadron were up there so they were dealing with it. He was directly south of Baghdad International Airport; the tan-colored parallel runways were plain against darker suburbs.

“Toxic Three . . . Ozark One One . . . checkin’ in.”

Scorch swung the fighter around in a left turn, dipped down to 18,000 feet and slung the dogfighting mode of his radar out to the southeast.

“LOCK . . . LOCK . . .” Sure enough, the system grabbed something and he glanced at the HUD they rolled out. The target designator (TD) box was firmly around something 9.1 miles away and a little higher.

The RWR chirped and he saw the symbol for the F/A-18’s own air-to-air radar. So the Navy pilot could see him too, which definitely helps. Scorch liked Hornets; they could do lots of missions and the pilots were flexible.
Just like us.