My hope was to visit some of these teams in Bosnia-Herzegovina.
The briefing I was about to witness covered the mission plans being presented to the 2/10th operations staff for critique and consideration:
Beginning in January 1999, 2/10th SFG would deploy three teams into Bosnia-Herzegovina, to provide support for Operation Joint Forge. The following units were assigned to the missions:• AOB 060—Coordinating forward activities for the SF missions would be an ODB, which would provide command, control, and communications for the other two missions in the American peacekeeping zone.
• ODA 040—One of the toughest challenges for Americans in SFOR is maintaining communications and coordination with peacekeeping units from other participating nations. Of these challenges, the toughest of all has been working with the Russians, who have committed a full brigade of paratroops for Joint Forge (the armored column that later raced down to the Pristina Airport in Kosovo at the end of the NATO air campaign against Yugoslavia came from this unit). Since the Russian Army’s communications equipment is several generations of technology behind the U.S. military‘s, the Russians have a hard time staying in touch with our guys... a potentially dangerous problem in multinational military operations. Even sending a fax is difficult. Thus the need for a reliable liaison. To that end, ODA 040 would be stationed with the Russian brigade and act as a Liaison Coordination Element (LCE), providing a direct connection with the rest of SFOR and Task Force Eagle at Tuzla. ODA 040 would also provide a necessary but unstated benefit. They’d get an unrestricted view of Russian behavior in the field. The Russians’ long-standing close connection to their brother Slavs, the Serbs, has resulted in actions whose even-handedness is at best doubtful. SF watchers would not necessarily make the Russians behave, but they could document misbehavior.
• ODA 062—The other 2/10th SFG mission would act as a Joint Coordination Observer (JCO) team in the crucial town of Doboj, which lies at the meeting point of three ethnic zones (Serb, Muslim, and Croat) in the American Zone, and was expected to be a trouble spot. ODA 062 would move into the town and establish a team house. That is, they would rent a private home, flesh it out with an appropriate array of communications gear, and then use it as a base to patrol the area in rented—and unmarked—sports utility vehicles. The team members would operate in civilian clothes or soft BDUs, with a minimum of armament or body armor showing. They would make the rounds of the area, get to know the local inhabitants, try to make friends, and keep an eye on the mood of the people... in the hope that they would solve problems before they reached a stage requiring an Apache gunship or Bradley fighting vehicle.
After this part of the briefing, the commander asked me to step outside, while the more classified aspects of the mission plans were discussed.
Sometime later, when I was back in the briefing room, the discussion had turned to general topics like the murky and convoluted history and politics of the Balkans—areas of ignorance where I was concerned. Surely, I thought, the SF staff recommends reading for SF soldiers about to deploy there (SF soldiers are voracious readers—they always have a stash in their bags or at the team house). Since it would be exceedingly useful if I could bone up on these books, I asked the 2/10th SFG staff for their suggestions.
Their list was insightful (it wasn’t actually a list; they had the books on hand and tossed them one by one on a table):• Peacekeeper: The Road to Sarajevo by Major General Louis MacKenzie—Written by a former commander of the UN peacekeeping force, this is a critical analysis of the entire NATO policy in the Balkans up to the signing and implementation of the Dayton Accords.
• To End a War by Richard Holbrooke—The standard work on the brokering of the deal that currently holds Bosnia-Herzegovina together. Because it is a book about diplomacy by a diplomat (the current UN ambassador and a man of famously large ego), its focus is limited.
• Bosnia: A Short History by Noel Malcomb—This tells the story of how Bosnia-Herzegovina decayed in the 1990s into the danger spot it is today. An excellent work for those who want a recent perspective on the region.
• Yugoslavia: Death of a Nation by Laura Silber and Allan Little—This is the companion book to an excellent but controversial five-hour documentary series run on the Discovery Channel and BBC in 1996. The series and the companion book take the “long” view that the conflict has roots hundreds of years deep; yet they also presume that the leaderships of the various modem factions (much like Hitler and the Nazis) have made use of the ancient ethnic symbols to validate recent hatreds and their own self-serving policies.
• Endgame: The Betrayal and Fall of Srebrenica by David Rhode—The Srebrenica crisis was one of the really “nasty” incidents of the civil war. There—in full view of western observers and the press—the Serbs murdered thousands of Croats and Muslims and threw them into mass graves. Though out of print and hard to find, David Rhodes’s fine examination of the crisis and the mass murder is compelling, and important to those trying to understand the dynamic of hatred and revenge in the Balkans.
• The Ugly American by Eugene Burdick and William J. Lederer—This 1950s classic still rings true today, and is required reading for all SF soldiers. The novel (based on the adventures of an actual CIA agent in Vietnam, whose story also formed the basis for Graham Greene’s The Quiet American) remains the standard work on what Americans should not do overseas, and how not to do it.
• Eastern Approaches by Fitzroy MacLean—A memoir of the author’s travels in eastern Europe in the 1930s and ‘40s (as a British diplomat), Eastern Approaches is a clear look at how Marshal Tito and his partisans created the Yugoslav state.
• Low-Intensity Operations: Subversion, Insurgency, Peacekeeping by Frank Kit-son —A surprisingly clear and easy-to-read “how-to” for low-intensity warfare, this is the handbook for running a revolution, and covers all the major political and military actions necessary for a populist rebellion, including the indicators of success or failure. Unlike other books on the subject, which tend to idolize guerrilla leaders and ignore positive possibilities (such as peacekeeping operations), this book covers the full spectrum, and is thus a useful volume for SF soldiers learning the trade.
• FM 100-20—U.S. Army Training and Doctrine Command—The Bible for SF soldiers. Field Manual (FM) 100-20 is the standard U.S. training guide on low-intensity conflict.
• How to Win Friends and Influence People by Dale Carnegie—Perhaps a surprising inclusion, but consider for a moment its core principles: The whole point of the book is to persuade folks who do not know you or your motives how to look at you and what you are doing in the most positive light possible. It lays out a plan of approach to other people that emphasizes learning what is valuable to them, then winning their admiration and trust, and then showing them how what you are selling can be useful and important to them. It works in sales, it works downrange. People are people around the world, and usually less sophisticated than Americans about recognizing the marketing techniques favored by Dale Carnegie. The basics of listening to people and winning their trust and admiration are keys to any mission that SF runs.The last book to be dropped on the table clearly held a special place in SF hearts:
• Fielding’s The World’s Most Dangerous Places, Third Edition by Robert Young Pelton—If you are a fan of quirky, farcical adventures, you will love Dangerous Places (known as DP to loyal followers). DP is a compact compendium of personal notes, travel logs, and tongue-in-cheek ramblings on travel to planet Earth’s most dangerous places, and surviving the visit. Though the book doubtless contains much that is hearsay, or is of otherwise doubtful accuracy, it has become a rucksack regular for SF personnel deploying downrange.
After the briefing, I listened to a few final words from the commander in his office. His main point was that at the moment, the situation in Bosnia was fairly stable, and so I could expect little physical danger in the American zone—especially given the high level of U.S. presence, and the excellent command-and-control arrangements
. He did advise me to dress warmly (if possible in one of the new Gor-Tex parkas now keeping his men warm and dry).
On a more serious note, he was concerned about developments in the Southern Balkans. Already, the Serbs in Belgrade were making noises about ethnically cleansing Kosovo of ethnic Albanians. The crisis, he felt, could pop at any time, and was likely to draw NATO into a shooting war.
Suitably warned, I excused myself.
In early January, I was scheduled to meet Major McCollum at Eagle Base in Tuzla to head downrange. The plan was to fly to Hungary and then on to Tuzla. There Tom McCollum and the folks from 2/10th SFG 2 would pick me up for overnight visits to all three of the teams. I was especially looking forward to visiting the Russian paratroops in their lager, and enjoying hospitality from “the Bear.”
Sadly, none of this came off.
Just days before my planned departure on a USAF C-5 Galaxy transport out of Dover AFB in Delaware, I was told there were “delays.” Further excuses came from the public affairs folks in Tuzla, soon followed by the cancellation message that I had begun to expect: Until further notice, General Montgomery Meigs, the commander of U.S. Army Forces, Europe, was barring writers and journalists from the theater, no excuse given.97
I watched the news wires for the next days, and got my own answer. Two days after the cancellation, NATO SOF forces captured a Serbian general suspected of war crimes in Bosnia, a major “snatch” for the legal folks up at the Hague.
Almost immediately, the Serbs hit the fan. Within hours, NATO patrols all over Bosnia were harassed, and armored relief units had to be dispatched to save a few of them. The uproar continued for several weeks.
In other words, rather than risk civilians in a “hot” situation, General Meigs had taken them out of harm’s way.
As it was, things were plenty tense around Eagle Base for the next month, and I eventually decided to skip the Bosnian trip entirely. I’m sorry it didn’t come off, but I’m grateful to General Meigs for keeping my butt safe. Thanks, Monty!
The Persian Gulf
The Balkans was hardly the only worthwhile downrange location.
The Persian Gulf, for instance, had a lot to offer the curious observer... even though at the time I ended up going there (a month after my visit to Fort Carson), it looked like I might be headed into a real shooting war.
The difference between my failed trip to Bosnia and my successful trip to the Gulf was in the level of perceived danger to civilians. In Bosnia, it was thought that terrorist or other reprisals were likely. In the Gulf, it was judged that even in the event of a shooting war, there was little likelihood that people like me would be at risk. That does not mean that I wasn’t looked after. There were dangers in the Gulf, and my SF friends did their best to avoid them. In this they were successful, thank God.
Meanwhile, Saddam Hussein was his normal, tiresome nuisance self, and America and her allies were pushing back hard. The long-simmering crisis over UN inspectors’ access to his WMD and missile production sites had reached yet another impasse, and military action seemed imminent. The USS Eisenhower (CVN-69) carrier battle group (CVBG) had been moved into the Persian Gulf, accompanied by a stream of air and ground reinforcements. On both sides there was snorting, heavy breathing, and posturing. Who would call the other’s bluff? And was it a bluff?
On November 14th, the posturing stopped, and an execution order for air strikes on Iraq went out to the Central Command commander, General Tony Zini. Aircraft (which could be recalled) were launched, and cruise missiles (which couldn’t) were minutes from being fired when the Iraqis blinked and announced they would again accept UN inspectors.
The diplomats sat down again to try to figure things out. (In the event, they failed. But that’s another story.)
During this breaking situation (despite this breaking situation), Special Forces Command arranged for me to visit elements of the 5th SFG in the Persian Gulf. After the experience of my abortive trip to Bosnia, I could be forgiven for doubting the Gulf trip. I was wrong to worry. It all came off fine.
The over 8,000-mile journey began at National Airport, where I met my guide for the expedition, an operations officer on the 5th SFG staff, who I’ll call Major Neil. Neil was an experienced SF team and company commander, who had been assigned to me because of his language and cultural skills, and his experience watching over the security of VIPs. (Though Major McCollum was also due to accompany me, a last-minute visa problem left him back home.) So Neil became my sole guide, bodyguard, and the guarantor of my bona fides in the Gulf states.
The plan was to fly to Amsterdam, change planes, and continue on to Bahrain, the tiny island nation located in the bay between the great Saudi port of Dhahran and the peninsula occupied by Qatar (pronounced locally as “Gutter”). Here I would visit the forward headquarters for SOF units in CENTCOM—SOCCENT and a 5th SFG detachment that was finishing up a training mission. From there, we would fly to Kuwait and visit several more 5th SFG teams, including those involved in the ongoing deployment against Iraq.
Just to make things interesting, I had been alerted (through Major Neil) that the crisis with Iraq had sparked upwards of six terrorist groups in the region into an active mode. That meant he had very specific security instructions for me, and watched over me like a mother hen. Under the circumstances, I didn’t mind the attention.
The flight from the U.S. to the international airport outside Bahrain’s capital, Manama, took close to twenty hours and three different flights, and I arrived pretty well wiped out. Once there, Major Neil got me quickly through customs and loaded into a rental car for the drive to our hotel, a Best Western (you expected something exotic?). His superior skills in the latest antiterrorist driving techniques were not wasted in Arab traffic (the real threat!).
At the hotel I managed to focus through my exhaustion long enough to take in from him a couple of basic cautions. One, keep the windows closed and the doors locked. And two, only drink what comes out of a bottle or is served to you. (Though desalinization plants along the coastline produce water, as precious as oil in this part of the world, the water that is pumped into homes and businesses is still more than a little salty. It’s perfectly fine to wash or bathe in, but it’s not really potable. For that reason, people tend to drink bottled water almost exclusively.)
Moments later, I was in my room doing what I could to recover from the Mother of All Jet Lags.
Thursday, November 19th—Camp Kalid, Sheik Isa, Bahrain
Next morning, over breakfast in the hotel’s dining room (surprisingly good, with eggs and breakfast meats, and all variety of pastries, fruits, and cereals), Neil gave me a heads-up on the local situation. Bahrain, he explained, was the most liberal and tolerant of the Gulf States, the place where folks from stricter Arab nations came to “play.” The island is connected to the Saudi mainland by a long causeway. At the Saudi end are all the normal Islamic restrictions on food, drink, and social behavior. But Manama comes at you in a bright, neon-lit rush, like Las Vegas.
Still—despite the KFCs and Dairy Queens—you know exactly where you are. Early in the morning, and on the appointed times throughout the day, you can hear the muezzins’ cries—both from minaret tops and over all the local television channels. And when you step out onto the streets, you’ll find a National Guardsman standing in front of the hotel with a fully automatic MP-5 machine pistol.98 These guys are a major reason why street crime is rare in this part of the world.
After breakfast, I gathered my daypack, purchased several cold liter bottles of water, and climbed into the rental car for a run down to the southern end of the island and my first taste of SF life downrange.
I couldn’t help but notice on the way a number of industrial sites in addition to the expected petrochemical plants. The ruling emir and his family are trying hard to build an industrial base that will survive the inevitable drying up of the oil wells.
About 31 miles/50 km. south of Manama, we entered a large military reservation, which does n
ot appear on the local maps or travel guides. This is Sheik Isa (also called “Shakey’s Pizza” by the U.S airmen who fly from there), a huge airbase capable of operating the heaviest aircraft. Right now, it was home to a USAF Air Expeditionary Force that included F-15 Eagles and Strike Eagles, F-16 Fighting Falcons, tankers, and even a detachment of four big B-1B Lancer bombers. A substantial flock of aircraft were visible to the south, in the traffic pattern.
Heading east toward the Gulf, we drove along a limestone escarpment; then Neil took a left turn toward a bunker complex and a few tents, and we were at our destination—Camp Kalid.
Camp Kalid was a small tent city, roughly ten acres in size, built among concrete bunkers on the northern end of the Sheik Isa reservation. Hot and dusty (the temperature was well over 90° F/32° C in late November), the camp was sparse and barren, except for the tents and a scattering of vehicles... and the tents were in the process of being dismantled. Here five SF teams (four ODAs and an ODB) from 5th SFG had set up a training center for military personnel from Bahrain and Qatar, placed here as part of the Joint combined Exercise Training (JCET) program, which helps SF soldiers on how to train foreign soldiers. The teams had been in Bahrain for the last seven weeks, and were planning to leave for home the next day (to be back in time for Thanksgiving).
I say “planning,” because there was some question whether they would actually leave as planned, as a result of the Iraqi alert—a reminder of the constant reality 5th SFG has to face: Everything is always up in the air. As the group assigned to the most distant area of responsibility (AOR) covered by the U.S. military, the 5th SFG personnel often feel their hell is to wait for planes.
Major Neil smiled when I remarked on this. “Last year,” he said, “I traveled well over 100,000 miles. You can’t imagine how many frequent flyer miles I’ve got.”