Mining and attacks by small, swift patrol boats became so successful that by the winter of 1986—87, Japanese, Swedish, and Norwegian ships stopped traveling to Kuwait. This put pressure not merely on the Gulf states, but on the entire world, and oil prices began to rise to dangerous levels.
In March 1987, President Ronald Reagan took steps to end the problem. He agreed to register eleven Kuwaiti tankers as American ships, and provide them with Navy escorts. The U.S. ships would form protected convoys through the Gulf.
That portion of the mission received a great deal of media attention, and was generally successful, but it did not stop the Iranians from preying on individual ships. Contact mines were a special problem. Cheap, and hard to detect with the naked eye, such mines were easy to deploy covertly at night, and could easily cripple a tanker. Their presence alone disrupted commerce.
While the U.S. rushed minesweeping gear to the Gulf, the Navy realized that the problem had to be attacked at the source: The Iranians had to be intercepted before they released the weapons.
Two MH-6 and four AH-6 Little Bird helicopters from the Army’s special aviation unit were assigned to do just that. They were placed directly under Middle East Force commander Rear Admiral Harold J. Bernsen and charged with nailing suspicious contacts identified by Navy patrols.
Their first challenge was to adapt the gear aboard the helicopters to sea duty. Just the act of landing and taking off from a rolling ship presented pilots with problems they had never encountered before. In addition, certain Army munitions, including the potent 2.75-inch rockets used by the Little Birds, could be ignited by radio bands common on Navy ships. After considerable testing, Navy experts found that special metal barrier plates, and the substitution of a Navy rocket motor, would allow the Army weapons to be safely stowed aboard ship.
By August 6, the helicopters were ready for action. Operating at night in elements of three—one MH-6 and two AH-6s—they flew with Navy LAMPS helicopters, which vectored them toward suspicious targets. Each helicopter in the operation had different capabilities. The LAMPS (special versions of the Kaman SH-2F Seasprite) were equipped with powerful surveillance radars, but were lightly armed (if at all) and not generally suited for nighttime attacks. The MH-6 and AH-6 were both variations of the Hughes/McDonnell Douglas MD500/530 series, extremely quick and agile scout helicopters. Both variants were armed. In general terms, the MH series were more optimized for transport and observation missions, and the AHs for firepower.
Meanwhile, Admiral Bernsen needed patrol craft to monitor and intercept the Iranian strike boats. Because of the mine danger, the patrols had to be made by fast, shallow-draft craft, but the Gulf’s rough seas and frequent storms ruled out much of the Navy’s light-craft inventory. Bernsen settled on Mark III patrol boats, sixty-five-foot fastmovers that could hit thirty knots and mounted both 40mm and 20mm cannons, as well as numerous lighter weapons. Six Mark IIIs, along with slightly smaller and less capable craft, were detailed to the operation.
SEALs began arriving in late August, giving the admiral a force he could use for several contingencies. SEAL Team Two and SEAL Team One, along with support units, were housed aboard the Guadalcanal, an assault ship whose helicopters were already supporting EARNEST WILL convoys. The aircraft elevator and hangar deck soon began echoing with live-fire exercises.
But there was another problem: For tactical and strategic reasons, the Guadalcanal had been ordered to operate in the southern Gulf, too far south for SEAL operations against the Iranians ranging in the northern Persian Gulf near Farsi Island. A land base seemed out of the question, and even if a site could be found on friendly soil, it would be far from the Iranian waters and an easy target for terrorists. Special Operations officers back in the States as well as Bernsen and the SEAL commander on the scene wanted a mobile sea base, but any American ship that far north would be an instant and obvious target for the Iranians. Not only would it be subject to mining, but it would draw considerable attention to U.S. involvement in the conflict. SOF commanders began searching for a low-profile floating home that could support the operations without drawing too much attention. In essence, they wanted a vessel with a crane, space to hoist patrol boats aboard for servicing, a helicopter landing pad, and room to house the special operators and support team.
The Military Sealift Command found two oil-rig-servicing barges, the Hercules and the Wimbrown VII, large craft previously used by civilian companies. The Hercules measured 400 feet, and came with a massive revolving crane designed for oil-rig construction, a helicopter pad, and plenty of space. It seemed tailor-made for the mission. Wimbrown VII, at about half the Hercules’s size, was a tighter squeeze, but it, too, met the mission requirements.
The SEALs went to work converting the craft, adding hangars and skids for the boats as well as defenses and radar. With a Navy frigate providing escort, the Hercules set sail from Bahrain at the southern end of the Gulf on September 21. Wimbrown VII, in need of more work, followed in October, though for several reasons it was not actually deployed in hostile waters until November.
As the Hercules put out to sea, an Iranian cargo vessel that intelligence had tagged as a possible minelayer was sailing southward from Iran. The vessel was called the Iran Ajr
At about 1830 on September 21, the Iran Ajr veered from its normal course near Iran into international waters east-northeast of Ra’Rakan, a small island off the northern tip of Qatar. Meanwhile, the Navy frigate Jarrett was sailing about fifteen miles away, with three Special Ops helicopters aboard. The MH-6 and two AH-6s took off to monitor the Iran Ajr.
They found her forty-five minutes later. The MII-6, equipped with sophisticated night-flying and surveillance gear, took a quick pass. The Little Bird’s pilot spotted “a bunch of fifty-five-gallon drums down the port side, a canvas-covered area in the middle, and a Zodiac-type boat.” The Iranian vessel was apparently not carrying mines, but this was not standard cargo for a merchant ship, either. The pilot pulled back and joined the other helicopters, which shadowed the vessel for about an hour. There was no sign that the Iranians were aware of their presence.
At 2250, the Iran Ajr turned off its lights and reversed course. The MI I- 6 went in for another look. This time the pilot saw the cylindrical-shaped objects being pushed over the side and realized he was looking at mines. He radioed back for instructions.
“Take them under fire!” came the order from the frigate. The AH-6s closed in. “Inbound hot,” warned the pilot, as the Little Bird’s minigun opened up, spraying the deck near the mines with machine-gun fire. The attack helicopters launched 2.75-inch high-explosive rockets and raked the ship with gunfire. An exploding paint locker sent fireballs skyward. Soon, the engine room and the steering and electrical systems were disabled. The ship went dead in the water. The helicopters were ordered to cease fire.
Fifteen minutes later, the ship’s crew managed to restore power; the ship began moving again. They also tried desperately to deploy the mines.
More rockets and machine-gun fire from the AI I-6s changed their minds. As the flames stoked up and the lights died again, the Iran Ajr’s crew began to abandon ship. Their Zodiac pulled away, attempting a high-speed escape. An AH-6 pursued in the darkness. As the helicopter closed on the small boat, someone on the craft “jumped to his feet in a threatening manner,” according to a SOF crew member. Unsure whether the Iranian had a man-portable antiair missile or some other weapon, the helicopter pilot fired his pistol out of the open door. Incredibly, he not only “neutralized” the Iranian but punctured the boat.
SEALs, meanwhile, were preparing to take the ship. Despite planning and communications snafus, a SEAL platoon approached it just after first light in a shallow-draft landing craft, chosen because it was unlikely to set off a contact mine. However, it exposed the assault team to other dangers.
“As we got closer, we hunkered down behind the gunwales,” a team member said later. “The coxswain was inexperienced, and it took him five minutes to get us in
position before we could board. One grenade lobbed into the well deck ... and we all would have been history.”
As the SEALs scrambled aboard and secured the enemy ship, they realized that all the Iranians aboard had fled. In fact, they’d left so quickly, the teletypes and radios were still on.
The capture of the Iran Ajr stopped its minelaying operation, and saved ships and lives. Perhaps more important, the boarding team discovered a number of intelligence documents, including a chart showing where it had already laid mines.
The Iran Ajr was eventually sunk by SOF personnel—but not before U.S. Secretary of Defense Caspar Weinberger, in the Gulf to inspect U.S. forces, had taken a personal tour.
THE Hercules and its force of patrol boats and helicopters began operations in the area of Farsi Island on October 6. Within hours, they had discovered the Iranians’ patrol pattern and devised a way to disrupt it.
Using a buoy navigational aid as a precise checkpoint in the open water, the SEALs and three Little Birds set up an ambush. Vectored toward a radar contact by a Navy LAMPS helicopter, an MH-6 pilot picked up an object on his FLIR (Forward Looking Infrared Receiver, for night vision). He pressed forward for the attack.
“We’ve got some vessels dead in the water at twelve o’clock,” he told his flight. “Approximately one-half mile, no movement, no hostile intent at this time.
The helicopters closed in fast. The image in the FLIR sharpened. A 12.7mm machine gun and its telltale tripod sat on the deck of the largest vessel in the screen.
Not an American weapon. Not an American boat.
“We have Boghammers,” shouted the pilot over the radio, alerting the others to the enemy. There were actually three boats—two smaller Boston Whaler types as well as the “Boghammer,” a potent and fast patrol craft forty-one feet long and displacing about 6.4 tons. Boghammers were used for a variety of purposes by the Iranians, none of them benign. The sky lit up with tracers as the Iranians spotted the Americans. The MH-6 ducked left, and an AH-6 put two rockets and a barrage of machine-gun bullets into the cluster of boats. The Boston Whalers caught fire.
The Boghammer, however, had only just begun to fight. As he closed to attack, the AH-6 pilot saw the telltale flash and spiral of a shoulder-launched SAM spitting into the air; he immediately began defensive maneuvers.
“It went right by my door, off the right side of the aircraft,” he recalled. The missile proved to be an American-made Stinger heat-seeker. Fortunately, it, and probably a second, were launched without definite locks on their targets. The Little Birds were unharmed.
Obscured by the smoke from the other two boats, the Boghammer took off. But it’s hard for a boat to outrun a helicopter, and the second AH-6 took it out with a rocket from extremely close range. The craft sank within thirty seconds.
Meanwhile, two American patrol boats closed in at full speed. The SEALs got to the wrecked boats just as the flames were dying out, and began picking up survivors amid six-foot swells. But the danger had not completely passed.
“Several prisoners were pulled out of the water armed,” said a SEAL team member later. “One petty officer actually wrestled a guy for his gun—I mean actually wrestled him on the deck for his gun. The gun went over the side.”
Meanwhile, a force of twenty or so Iranian small boats massed in the distance. Had they come forward, they might have overpowered the patrol craft; the helicopters, low on ammunition and fuel, would have been hard-pressed in the attack. The SEAL commander nevertheless turned his two patrol boats in the Iraqis’ direction. The bluff scattered them.
Only six of the thirteen survivors from the three Iranian boats lived. The wounded Iranians were treated by the Americans and eventually returned home.
THE Special Forces operations demonstrated to the Iranians that further patrol boat operations would come at a heavy cost. So they turned to a new tactic—Silkworm missiles.
Essentially a Chinese copy of the Russian SS-N-2, Silkworms are relatively slow, sixties-era weapons with primitive guidance (though they use active radar on final approach), an explosive warhead of nearly nine hundred pounds, and a range of twenty-five to fifty miles. Despite their limitations, they remain a potent threat against unarmed or lightly armed ships. In 1967, the original Soviet version was used by Egyptian patrol boats to sink an Israeli destroyer, the first time in history that a ship was sunk by a surface missile.
On October 15, the Iranians launched an attack against tankers loading oil at Kuwait’s Sea Island terminal. The British-owned Sungari suffered a direct hit, and an American-flagged Kuwaiti tanker named the Sea Isle City was struck the next day. Though seventeen crewmen and the American captain were injured in the attack, the vessel was not seriously damaged.
The Reagan administration ordered a retaliation. But the President, seeking to limit the conflict, ruled out a strike against Silkworm sites, which were on Iranian soil. He opted instead for the destruction of an Iranian oil platform known as the Rashadat GOSP (GOSP stands for gas and oil separation platform; this one had multiple structures). The Rashadat GOSP had two platforms 130 meters apart. At the north was an oil-drilling rig; at the south was a platform used as living quarters and equipment storage and repair. A third platform, supposedly abandoned, lay about two miles north of these structures.
Three destroyers, a frigate, and a cruiser were tagged to shell the platforms. A SEAL platoon would then board and search for prisoners before blowing them up.
The operation got under way at 1340 on October 19. Broadcasts from the destroyer Thach warned the Iranians to abandon the platforms; they quickly complied, and shelling began. Flames leapt up within minutes, and the fire soon spread.
Smoke and flames towered over the SEALs as their three rubber assault boats were lowered from the deck of the Thach. They could feel the heat as they approached the ravaged oil rig. “The surface of the water was on fire within a two-hundred- to three-hundred-foot radius around the burning platform,” remembered the SEAL officer in charge.
Trying their best to ignore the heat, flames, and smoke, the SEALs set charges on the oil drilling platform, then searched the other platform, capturing cryptographic encoding devices and documents. All three platforms were eventually destroyed, with no American causalities and none known to the Iranians.
Though the Iranians did not immediately end their attacks, the U.S. Special Forces activities caused them to sharply reduce the tempo of their attacks and shift their focus to the central and southern Persian Gulf.
It was not until April of 1998, when the U.S. frigate Samuel B. Roberts struck a mine east of Bahrain, that another major operation was launched, this time primarily by regular Navy units. Initially targeting oil platforms, the engagement eventually included several Iranian patrol boats and aircraft, most of which were destroyed or heavily damaged.
PACIFIC WIND
That was the background when, in September, Stiner journeyed to the Gulf with Downing to get a firsthand view of the situation, brief Schwarzkopf, and finalize details on the embassy operation, which came to be called PACIFIC WIND. Before departing, Stiner checked with Powell to see if he had any special guidance.
“Saddam is making threats about waging a worldwide terrorist campaign,” Powell told him, “and I don’t want Norm worrying about this. You keep the terrorists off his back and tell him that we want his focus to be to the North.”
In Saudi Arabia, Stiner linked up with Jesse Johnson, while Downing coordinated the details of PACIFIC WIND with Schwarzkopf’s staff and component commanders.
For the next three days, Stiner and Johnson visited every coalition support team, as well as other SOF forces, including those involved in retraining and equipping the remnants of Kuwait’s army that had ended up in Saudi Arabia, and the training of resistance teams for infiltration into Kuwait City.
In Stiner’s mind, the contributions that SOF could make were limited only by what SOF would be allowed to do—and by Johnson’s ability to effectively manage the myriad of compl
ex mission profiles. Johnson’s problem was his colonel’s rank—every other component commander for Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marine conventional forces carried three stars. This just wasn’t going to work. The general officers would inevitably command more resources as well as respect. He was going to have to take it up with Schwarzhopf.
Meanwhile, Downing had settled on the details of PACIFIC WIND.
The plan for taking the embassy was deceptively simple: JSOTF special mission units, supported by USAF air strikes to neutralize air defenses and isolate the embassy compound, would land at night by helicopter in the compound, take out the Iraqi guards, and rescue the personnel being held there.
If the goal was straightforward, however, the chances of achieving surprise and neutralizing the Iraqis in the occupied city was not. The invaders had located their theater headquarters in the Hotel Safir next to the embassy. The nearby beachfront, as well as the local road network, gave the enemy easy access to the target. Even the act of positioning the assault group close enough to Kuwait to launch the attack was a complicated logistics matter.
Vice Admiral Stanley R. Arthur, commander of the U.S. Seventh Fleet and the Navy component of Central Command, solved part of the logistics problem by making a Navy LPH available for the mission. LPHs look like World War II-era escort carriers, and in fact, the first versions of the assault ships were converted from just such vessels. At about 600 feet long, LPHs are only half as long as attack carriers such as the Nimitz, and displace less than a fifth of a supercarrier’s bulk; but they can carry a reinforced Marine battalion and its vehicles, as well as support them once an attack is under way. Optimized to get the assault troops on and off quickly via helicopter, LPHs typically carry two dozen helicopters, and can make about twenty-three knots. Though now overshadowed in the Navy by the newer Wasp and Tarawa LHA vessels, the LPHs nonetheless offered the Special Operations troops both a jumping-off point and floating headquarters.