It's been fifteen years since we were all glued to out televisions watching CNN during the Gulf War (even those of us who were deployed...)
The pilots and 24 (give or take) aircraft of the 401TFW(P) / 614TFS flew 1303 sorties, dropping 3.7 million pounds of bombs while deployed to Doha, Qatar from our home at Torrejon AB, Spain.
The Lucky Devils in the Gulf War
http://www.lucky-devils.net
Mike Kopack
Here's how I remember it...
Sirens blaring. It’s dark in the tent. Almost automatically my hand reaches down under the right side of my cot and pulls out my gas mask. It’s open, and over my head. Without even thinking, I cover the exhausts and blow hard to clear the mask. My palm is over the intake and inhale, there’s no air as I can feel the mask collapse and seal around my face with the vacuum. By this time, someone has turned the lights on and as I am suiting up in my chemical gear I can see all of my tentmates doing the same – with one exception. Our ‘Ninja’ has lost it; he’s running up and down the aisle in the center of the tent yelling:
“I don’t know how to put my mask on!”
“We’re all going to die.”
He’s ignored for the moment as I finish suiting up. It’s amazing how short a time it takes from a deep sleep, and over the next few weeks we’ll all get even faster. Suited up now, several of us grab our panicked compatriot, hold him down and get him into his mask and as much of his suit as we can. I grab my helmet and radio and head for the door. Through the first tent flap and a quick left turn after the second, up the steps and jump into our sandbag shelter – where I immediately, and rather forcefully encounter whoever it was that had jumped in just before. I slid over into a corner, all the time hearing the sirens and the recorded message, which went something like this:
“Air raid, air raid. MOPP 4, MOPP 4. All personnel don protective equipment.”
The commotion of suiting up in the tent gives way to silence in the bunker. The sirens have gone quiet and we’re just left with our thoughts. ‘What is going on? Did the Iraqi’s slip a bomber through the air defences?’ I can’t remember if the QEAF’s Mirages scrambled that night, but even if they did it would be a difficult intercept. I pulled out my shortwave radio and slipped the ear-piece beneath the seal of my mask. Turning the unit on quickly brought news from the BBC in London that had received word that a SCUD had been fired from Iraq that was headed towards the Saudi capital of Riyadh. It was a relief to know that even though Iraq was firing ballistic missiles, they weren’t directly at us.
Twenty minutes later we were given the “All Clear” signal and we were able to remove our gear. It was then, sometime after four in the morning of the sixteenth of January 1991 (since there was no use in trying to go back to sleep) that through radio and television that we learned that the war had in fact started and the aircraft from the first airstrikes were returning to their bases, all while we were asleep. The news was good, although there was no official confirmation, CNN reported that most, if not all of our aircraft were accounted for.
When we walked into the hangar that morning, it was a different place. The people, the aircraft and the tools were the same; but there was an entirely different ‘feeling’, a different attitude from the day before. It’s difficult to describe the change, there was a feeling of ‘seriousness’, yet also excitement. We’d been in the desert for almost five months and were finally to start what we came here for. The previous night President Bush had said:
"The liberation of Kuwait has begun. In conjunction with the forces of our coalition partners, the United States has moved under the code name Operation Desert Storm."
_________________
F-16A/B/C/D P&W/GE Crew Chief and Phased Maint.
56TTW/63TFTS 1987-1989
401TFW/614TFS 1989-1991
The pilots and 24 (give or take) aircraft of the 401TFW(P) / 614TFS flew 1303 sorties, dropping 3.7 million pounds of bombs while deployed to Doha, Qatar from our home at Torrejon AB, Spain.
The Lucky Devils in the Gulf War
http://www.lucky-devils.net
Mike Kopack
Here's how I remember it...
Sirens blaring. It’s dark in the tent. Almost automatically my hand reaches down under the right side of my cot and pulls out my gas mask. It’s open, and over my head. Without even thinking, I cover the exhausts and blow hard to clear the mask. My palm is over the intake and inhale, there’s no air as I can feel the mask collapse and seal around my face with the vacuum. By this time, someone has turned the lights on and as I am suiting up in my chemical gear I can see all of my tentmates doing the same – with one exception. Our ‘Ninja’ has lost it; he’s running up and down the aisle in the center of the tent yelling:
“I don’t know how to put my mask on!”
“We’re all going to die.”
He’s ignored for the moment as I finish suiting up. It’s amazing how short a time it takes from a deep sleep, and over the next few weeks we’ll all get even faster. Suited up now, several of us grab our panicked compatriot, hold him down and get him into his mask and as much of his suit as we can. I grab my helmet and radio and head for the door. Through the first tent flap and a quick left turn after the second, up the steps and jump into our sandbag shelter – where I immediately, and rather forcefully encounter whoever it was that had jumped in just before. I slid over into a corner, all the time hearing the sirens and the recorded message, which went something like this:
“Air raid, air raid. MOPP 4, MOPP 4. All personnel don protective equipment.”
The commotion of suiting up in the tent gives way to silence in the bunker. The sirens have gone quiet and we’re just left with our thoughts. ‘What is going on? Did the Iraqi’s slip a bomber through the air defences?’ I can’t remember if the QEAF’s Mirages scrambled that night, but even if they did it would be a difficult intercept. I pulled out my shortwave radio and slipped the ear-piece beneath the seal of my mask. Turning the unit on quickly brought news from the BBC in London that had received word that a SCUD had been fired from Iraq that was headed towards the Saudi capital of Riyadh. It was a relief to know that even though Iraq was firing ballistic missiles, they weren’t directly at us.
Twenty minutes later we were given the “All Clear” signal and we were able to remove our gear. It was then, sometime after four in the morning of the sixteenth of January 1991 (since there was no use in trying to go back to sleep) that through radio and television that we learned that the war had in fact started and the aircraft from the first airstrikes were returning to their bases, all while we were asleep. The news was good, although there was no official confirmation, CNN reported that most, if not all of our aircraft were accounted for.
When we walked into the hangar that morning, it was a different place. The people, the aircraft and the tools were the same; but there was an entirely different ‘feeling’, a different attitude from the day before. It’s difficult to describe the change, there was a feeling of ‘seriousness’, yet also excitement. We’d been in the desert for almost five months and were finally to start what we came here for. The previous night President Bush had said:
"The liberation of Kuwait has begun. In conjunction with the forces of our coalition partners, the United States has moved under the code name Operation Desert Storm."
_________________
F-16A/B/C/D P&W/GE Crew Chief and Phased Maint.
56TTW/63TFTS 1987-1989
401TFW/614TFS 1989-1991