By now, the truck was simply a big black hole, smoking in the desert. Trask whipped the Pave Low down between the hulk and the pilot. Within seconds, the PJs were helping one very happy Navy lieutenant aboard for the ride home.
When Lieutenant Jones had pulled the handle, he’d been flying somewhere between 25,000 and 30,000 feet; the ejection and landing had bruised him some and left him sore. But otherwise he was uninjured—and went on to fly thirty more missions in the war. His backseater, unfortunately, had been captured. He would spend the rest of the war as a POW.
SPECIAL Operations forces continued to fly combat search-and-rescue missions for the duration of the conflict.
There were other successes: A Navy SH-60B launched from the USS Nicholas picked up an Air Force F-16 pilot in Gulf waters two days after the Slate 46 incident; two SEALs made the actual rescue, jumping into the water to help the pilot.
After the start of the ground war, the pilot of an F-16 shot down in southern Iraq was picked up by aircraft from the Army special aviation unit. The MH-60 helicopters that made the rescue were equipped with weapons and an avionics set roughly comparable to those in the larger MH-53J.
All in all, a total of 238 rescue sorties were flown by Special Operations aircraft, accounting for about a third of their overall mission flights. By comparison, the Air Force flew ninety-six rescue sorties; the Navy and Marines, a total of four.
The allied air forces lost thirty-eight aircraft to hostile action over Iraq and Kuwait. While that is a staggeringly low percentage of casualties compared to the total number of combat sorties—64,990 by all allies—the majority of the downed airmen who survived their crashes were captured by the Iraqis. This was caused in great part because they had bailed out into hostile territory many miles from American forces.
After the war, emergency equipment and procedures were upgraded. A radio with better range and security was introduced (which, ironically, ground SOF units already carried). Efforts were also made to improve procedures and information-sharing between the services, so locating a downed pilot wouldn’t again depend on a lucky frequency assignment.
SPECIAL Operations aircraft performed a variety of missions beyond combat rescue. Within a few days of their arrival in the Gulf, they were supporting SEAL reconnaissance teams, and Air Force AC-130 Special Operations “Spectre” gunships were to play a critical role when ground action began—as they had in Panama.
Two slightly different versions operated in the Gulf during the war, the AC-130A and the AC-130H. While most of the basic armament and equipment sets in the planes are similar, the H models feature more-powerful engines—and a howitzer. The gunships make terrific high ground for firing artillery, but they are vulnerable. Typical operations call for night-fighting over extremely hostile territory.
Depending on the model, Spectre weapons include a 105mm howitzer, two 40mm cannons, and miniguns. The weapons are controlled by an array of radar and targeting systems, and are very accurate.
AC-130Hs from the Air Force Special Operations Squadron arrived at King Fahd International Airport on September 8, 1990.
Some months later, on January 29, after the start of the air phase of the war, the gunships were called out to help Marines repel a raid by Traqi forces on Khafji, a small desert village in northeastern Saudi Arabia. The raid, conducted by several mechanized brigades (its aims were unclear—possibly to provoke Schwarzkopf into starting ground action before he was ready), caught the Americans off guard. As the small Marine unit in the village dropped back to a more defensible position, two six-man teams found themselves isolated on rooftops amid a sudden flood of enemy troops. The Marines stayed in the city, quietly directing artillery and air strikes via radio.
Next day and during the following night, more Iraqis streamed forward to reinforce the town.
U.S. Marine and Saudi units struck back. Three AC-130Hs provided firepower in what turned out to be one of the hottest engagements of the war. The Spectres blasted Iraqi positions and tank columns in and around Khafji. As daylight on January 31 approached, the planes were ordered to return home. The black wings and fuselages of the slow and relatively low-flying planes made them easy targets against the brightening sky.
One of the gunships—69-6567, called Spirit 03—was backing a Marine unit that had come under fire from an Iraqi missile battery when the call came to go home.
They stayed on station to help the Marines.
Another order to break off came in.
“Roger, roger,” acknowledged the copilot.
A few seconds later, an Iraqi shoulder-launched SAM slammed into the wing and sheared it off. The Spectre spiraled into the Gulf; all fourteen crew members died.
This was the worst SOF loss of the war.
A SPECTRE’S firepower is awesome, but that pales in comparison with the weapon a C-130 deployed a few days after the Khafji battle.
The plane was an MC-130E Combat Talon, designed for low-level missions behind enemy lines. Typically, Combat Talons insert and supply Special Forces troops with long-range clandestine parachute drops. Some are also equipped with Fulton STAR recovery systems and can literally snag commandos from the ground in areas too dangerous for helicopter pickups.
The MC-130E’s unique ability to carry a large cargo and deliver it at a very specific time and place also allows the propeller-driven craft to drop skid-mounted BLU-82s, or “Daisy Cutters” (because they work like very destructive lawn mowers). Consisting of 15,000 pounds of high explosive, the “Blues” are about the size of a Honda Civic hatchback. A long sticklike fuse in the squat nose triggers the explosion before the bomb buries itself in the ground, maximizing the explosion’s force.
BLU-82s were used during the Vietnam War to flatten jungle areas for use as helicopter landing zones.
After that war wound down, the BLU-82s were largely forgotten until Major General Stiner—in his days as commander of the JSOTF—remembered his experience with the bomb in Vietnam as he was searching for a weapon that might be used effectively against terrorist-training camps. What he needed, he realized, were BLU-82s. But when he went looking for any that still remained, he found only four BLU-82 shells in a bunker at Tuello Army Depot. He also managed to locate a couple of Vietnam-era Air Force sergeants who still knew how to mix the slurry (explosive). None of his air crews had ever dropped one.
With his own funds, he brought the number of the weapons to eight, and had two crews trained. The investment paid off big-time in the Gulf War.
While nowhere near as accurate as laser-guided or other “smart” bombs, they don’t need to be: The Blues’ sheer size makes a considerable impact. (For comparison’s sake, the most common iron bombs dropped from B-52s and other aircraft are five hundred pounds.)
Minefields posed a problem for the Marines scheduled to invade Kuwait. MC-130 crews—aware of this—suggested that the Blues could be used to clear them: Pressure from the explosion would set off the mines.
At least, they thought they would. The tactic had never been tried with the BLU-82. After some debate, the allied commander approved the mission. A pair of MC-130s, escorted by SAM killers and Air Force Raven EB-11 Is to help fend off radars, lumbered over the target area at about 16,000 feet. As the bombs slid out the back of the planes, the pilots had to work hard to hold the suddenly unbalanced MC-130s steady.
The first explosions were so massive (the story goes) that a British commando operating in Iraq more than a hundred miles away grabbed his radio. “The blokes have just nuked Kuwait!” he is said to have told his commander.
Whether the story is apocryphal or not, the bombs devastated the minefields. They also killed anyone within 4,000 yards of the explosion who wasn’t in a protected position. Eleven were dropped during the conflict.
The Blues were also potent psychological weapons. When an Iraqi unit was told they were due for a BLU-82 bombing, most of its men promptly came across the lines and surrendered.
PSYOPs
Surely the least publ
icized major effort of the war was the Psychological Operations (PSYOPs) campaign. This was a comprehensive effort with several aims: to build coalition support for the war, counter Iraqi propaganda, unnerve Saddam’s troops, and loosen the Iraqi resolve to fight.
Planning for the campaign began very early in the American buildup. The head of the 4th Psychological Operations Group, Colonel Tony Normand, prepared for General Schwarzkopf a comprehensive PSYOPs campaign with strategic (aimed primarily at populations) as well as tactical (aimed primarily at enemy military forces) operations. Normand, who had shaped the highly successful PSYOPs campaign in Panama, drew up a broad plan with the help of his staff, under the direction of Lieutenant Colonel Daniel D. Devlin, who had just relinquished command of a 4th Group battalion. By contrast with his attitude toward SOF operations, Schwarzkopf turned out to be a big PSYOP booster from the start.
“PSYOP is not really a difficult subject to understand, but many try to make it overly complex, and in the end, fail to understand it at all,” noted Devlin, who served as deputy commander of the 4th PSYOPs Group after it deployed to the Gulf. “First, any political, military, legal, informational, or economic action can be psychological in nature, and therefore part of a strategic PSYOP plan at the national level. Second, any military or informational action in the combatant Commander’s (CINC’s) sphere of influence can be psychological in nature as a part of the CINC’s operational PSYOP plan. Third, any military action on the battlefield can be a part of the tactical PSYOP plan. Really good military minds understand the psychological nature of the battlefield.”
After the plan was completed, Normand waited for two days to get in to brief the CINC. Called away before he could make the presentation, he told Devlin to give the briefing.
Devlin recounts:
“He said not to be concerned if I had to give the briefing before he returned. He told me, ‘The success of the briefing will only determine whether we take part in this operation, or return home to Fort Bragg to rake pine needles.’ That kind of the essence of our relationship. We were always direct with each other, but with a great deal of friendship and humor. He was my boss. He knew he could count on me.”
The CINC’s office called for Devlin twice, but then sent him back when more pressing matters delayed the meeting. “The numerous overlapping demands on the CINCs time were amazing,” Devlin recalls. Finally, General Schwarzkopf had time for the briefing.
“I went in and gave General Schwarzkopf a personal, one-on-one briefing from a three-ring binder,” Devlin continues. “About a half-dozen staffers followed me in and stood in the corner waiting to see me dismembered, because the majority of the CINC’s staff didn’t think much of us being there. At the conclusion of my briefing, General Schwarzkopf pounded his right fist on the table and said, ‘This is exactly what we need. There’s an information war going on right now and we’re losing it! What do I need to do to make this happen?’ The staff’s acceptance of us changed amazingly following the briefing.
Schwarzkopf personally edited a draft message, making it much stronger, and then authorized its transmission to Colin Powell. The message requested PSYOP assistance, and, as a result, the 4th PSYOP Group began deploying to the Gulf on August 25. The first group to deploy included Normand, Devlin and the planning staff, and a few others. Once there, as additional PSYOP assets came in from Fort Bragg, Normand and his immediate staff prepared more detailed operational plans covering a wide range of strategic, operational, and tactical missions. But even with the CINC’s backing, most of Normand PSYOP plans sat for months at the Defense Department, apparently stymied because of geopolitical sensitivities in Washington.
“We’re afraid of cross-border operations,” explained Colonel Normand later. Cross-border operations—Irom Saudi Arabia, say, over the border into Iraq—were in many cases inherently dangerous and always carried a potential to backfire and cause embarrassment. Thus they were likely to be sidetracked by Washington. This meant that a strategic campaign aimed at telling Iraqi citizens why the war was evil couldn’t be launched. But it also hamstrung the tactical operations aimed at Iraqi soldiers.
“A leaflet is a cross-border operation,” said Normand. “You’re told to start targeting the Iraqi soldiers. Well, you can’t do that because they’re not on your side of the border. You can’t do cross-border operations.”
The official resistance led Normand to shuttle between Washington and Riyadh with one plan after another, seeking approval from the Joint Chiefs and a myriad of other military brass, as well as Defense and State Department officials. After several weeks of this, he finally received approval to proceed.
After a fashion: Washington had split the plan into two halves—overt and covert. “Overt” PSYOP actions were okay, but covert actions were put on hold. The catch-22: Nearly everything Normand wanted to do was considered “covert,” much of it simply because it required cooperation from another organization or country. With the exception of a film called Line in the Sand—which had to be reedited because the delays made parts of it out of date—the major PSYOP initiatives against Iraq were put on hold. The film would later be smuggled into Iraq and distributed freely around the rest of the world; but little else in the way of a “strategic” PSYOP campaign—targeting common Iraqi citizens and telling them why their country was being attacked—would ever be implemented.
Carl Stiner has views about this kind of thing: “Certain lawyers get in the act, and you’ve got certain people that don’t want their thumbprint on anything that might have risks associated with it. That’s the way they’ve survived ; they limit their exposure. And when you run into that, you’ve got to get the Chairman or the CINC to override all these birds and get their asses out of the process or they’ll delay it to eternity.”
Finally, Normand went to Schwarzkopf in mid-December, shortly before he was scheduled to relinquish command of the 4th PSYOP Group for another assignment. Standing in front of the CINC in disgust, he told him, “We need to send a message back to Washington that if we don’t get approval soon we can’t execute.” He handed the general a piece of paper. “I recommend you send this message.”
Normand had carefully prepared a “Let’s Go” message, a masterwork of diplomatic language, politely requesting Washington to “relook” the issue.
“Bullshit,” said Schwarzkopf. He ripped up the paper and began writing his own message. It began with the words “Bungling bureaucrats in Washington,” and then got really nasty.
“What do you think about that?” the CINC asked, handing it back to Normand.
“If you’ll sign it, I—”
“It’s signed,” Schwarzkopf broke in.
The PSYOP tactical campaign aimed at Iraqi troops suddenly hit the fast track. The campaign took off with the start of the air war a few weeks later.
MUCH of the DESERT SHIELD/STORM PSYOP mission was aimed simply at countering the propaganda Saddam was spreading. The PSYOP warriors were trying to set the record straight. Arab countries were a vital part of President Bush’s carefully constructed coalition, and so it was vital that their citizens, and in fact the Islamic world in general, know the truth about why the coalition was fighting Saddam.
Cairo is the Arab media center, the Arab “Hollywood.” The highly regarded Radio Cairo is there, many Arab and international news organizations have offices in the city, and Arab intellectuals tend to congregate there. If you want to get the word out to the Arab world—and to the entire Islamic world—you want to work through these facilities. At the same time, Egypt was an ally in the coalition. Government officials as well as media members were receptive to American-inspired suggestions and information.
Normand sent Devlin to Cairo at the end of October.
Here are Devlin’s thoughts on the experience:
“The extensive Iraqi propaganda machine required countering with factual information that Saddam was in every way a despicable human being—a horrific leader who did not care about his people, an unjust Muslim,
a terrible neighbor, an untrustworthy Arab and Muslim, and a liar in everything he said.” The PSYOP operation, therefore, aimed to point out these truths and strip him of support from the Islamic world and elsewhere, while eliciting increased Islamic and world support for the coalition forces. With strong backing by the American ambassador, who provided entry to the Egyptian government and military, and by American embassy officials, Devlin organized a cooperative effort out of Cairo to counter the continuous Iraqi propaganda.
“Because the invasion was literally a television news event, it was important to point out to the entire world exactly what a brutal dictator he was. But we wanted to point out specifically to the Islamic world that Saddam had attacked his Islamic brothers without justification, or the support of the rest of the Islamic world.
“According to Islamic law, you can be a bad Muslim and an evil man who does not follow the law. But then you can have a change of heart and convert to a follower of the law. Once you have done that, you can proclaim the right to call a Jihad.” Saddam claimed he was a good Muslim in calling for a justified Jihad. “But also according to Islamic law, Muslims don’t attack other Muslims. So Saddam’s claim had this fundamental flaw.”
Both the Arab world and the Islamic world as a whole had to pay attention to this truth, but it obviously could not come directly from Americans.
“We wanted to get word out to the Islamic world that noted Islamic clerics faulted his reasoning and justification, according to the Koran and Islamic law. Our goal was not to get them to say what we wanted; we wanted them to say, print, and transmit what they were already saying as Islamic experts, recognized as such by the Islamic world: Saddam’s claims were not true, according to Islamic custom and law.”
This message went out: Devlin’s team and their Egyptian colleagues found ways to insert it into plays, radio and TV shows, soap operas, and magazines and newspapers. Islamic conferences held for world Islamic leaders condemned Saddam. The end result was a chorus of voices in all media denouncing Saddam from recognized Islamic sources.