confidence that he had the right factory in sight.
“That’s affirmative. Let’s use that factory east-west one unit. From the eastern edge of factory go two—let’s make that three—units east on hardball. Then use factory from hardball. You’ll see a pull-off on the north side of the hardball. Go one unit to the south off the hardball. In between two small towns you’ll see some light revetments.” I continued the talk-on by setting the length of the factory complex east to west as a unit. I treated that unit as a yardstick to measure the distance along the road to another feature (a pull-off from the highway). I talked Merc 11 down between two towns where the artillery was lying.
Merc 11 responded, “Copy light revetments; there appear to be four to the south and four or five to the north.” Merc 11 had the revetments in sight and again gave a description of what he saw. The revetments appeared shallow due to the light, sandy soil in that region of Kosovo in comparison to the darker-green grass of the field where the revetments had been dug.
“Copy. That is affirmative. Say your laser code.” I wanted his laser code so that I could use my Pave Penny pod (a laser-spot tracker that can “see” where another jet’s lasers are pointed) to ensure that his laser was actually pointed at the right target.
“Laser code is 1633.”
I was ready for his attacks now. “Copy, currently I am visual you, and I am under you currently on the west side. I’d like you to take out the far western pit with a single LGB.”
Merc 11 wanted one final confirmation. “Copy far western pit. Confirm the line of pits intersects the road at an angle.”
I reassured him. “That is affirmative. The road between the two towns is at an angle. And the arty sets almost in a saddle in the ridgeline. Say how long until attack.”
“One minute,” Merc 11 called as he set up his attack.
I saw him extend to the southeast some 10 miles from the target. Though they move much faster than A- 10s, CF-18s take a long time to set up their attacks. I was not used to fighters extending that far from the target and could barely make them out as they turned inbound. I had to make up my mind on whether to clear him to drop. I couldn’t pick up his laser with my pod yet, but I was confident from his responses that he had the target. I decided to clear him, and he shacked (made a direct hit) the first artillery piece. He set up for a subsequent attack and took out another piece of artillery before he ran low on fuel and departed.
In the meantime, I was holding south of the target, coordinating with Moonbeam for another set of strikers. Next on the list was Dragon 61, a two-ship of F-15Es carrying a bunch of GBU-12s (500 lb LGBs). While I waited for Dragon, I took out one of the southern APCs with a Maverick. Finally, Dragon checked in and I gave them my position. I got a friendly buddy spike, which meant Dragon had locked me with one of their air-to-air radars. I told him to call me when he had me visual. Normally, acquiring a visual on A-10s is fairly easy. A two-ship of A-10s circling a target looks like a pair of large Xs in the sky. Dragon called visual, and I rolled in to mark, this time with Willy Pete rockets. I shot three rockets, hoping to get them to blossom into small white-phosphorus clouds on the ground. As long as Dragon saw where I was shooting, he could easily see the smoke generated by my rockets.
“Marks are away. Expect impact in 15 seconds.” That gave Dragon a heads up on when he should expect to see the smoke.
Dirt called to me on our internal Fox-Mike (frequency modulated, aka FM) radio: “Your first mark is closest to arty line.”
Dragon 61 confirmed the smokes, “Six-One is contact two smokes.”
“Copy. Look at the further northeast smoke. It’s setting just on the east side of four arty pits south of a road.” Even though the smokes were visible, the arty pits were so small that I had to ensure Dragon was seeing them.
Dragon called contact on the target area. I was starting to run low on fuel and wanted to get the F-15Es dropping as soon as possible. Dragon was not an AFAC and could not pick his own target. He could, however, continue an attack once I gave him permission. My plan was to have him take out as many artillery pieces as he could while I was off to the tanker.
I passed control of the targets to Dragon: “You have flight lead control on that target area. I’d like to take out most of the arty sites at that position; two have already been struck. Those are two just north of the east-west road.”
Dirt and I left for the tanker that was waiting for us some 50 miles south over Macedonia. While we were on the tanker, Dragon continued his attack and destroyed three more, bringing the total to five artillery pieces and one APC destroyed.
After a half-hour refueling, we returned to the artillery sites. Dragon had long since departed. A cloud deck had moved in from the northwest and forced us to work east, out of Kosovo and into the southeastern part of Serbia. A large valley wound its way down towards the town of Kumanova in Macedonia. We called it the Kumanova Valley. For several days, we attacked positions in this valley when the weather was not good enough in Kosovo. The Serbs were fortified against a ground attack from the south and had hundreds of defensive positions built into the hillsides overlooking the valley.
Near the border I could hear a couple of A-10s working targets. I called them and coordinated to work well north of their position, 10 miles north of the Macedonian border. I found the town of Bujanovac and began searching the roads and surrounding areas. I worked my eyes south of the town and finally picked up six revetments. They were on a hilltop but were different than any other revetments I had ever seen. They were several miles from any major LOC and well camouflaged but were visible from the southwest. Because the weather had moved in and clouds were just above us, we were now limited to flying below 21,000 feet. I kept Dirt in a trail position and took a good look with the binos. The targets were hard to make out. I could see the ends of large tubes, which I took for long-range artillery tubes, sticking out from both ends of the revetments.
I rolled in and dropped two Mk-82s to mark the targets for Dirt. The bombs hit next to two revets, but I couldn’t see any secondaries. I called Moonbeam and asked for Dodge 61, a two-ship of British GR-7 Harriers carrying BL-755 CBUs.
“Two’s got both your marks. Two has a series of brown revets,” Dirt called.
“Yeah, I got six revets in the triangle area.” I made sure he saw all of them.
“Underneath your smoke now?” The smoke from my bombs rested over the revets.
“That’s affirm.”
“Got’em now.”
“Let’s extend out to the south towards good-guy land, and I’ll work up a five line for these guys.” The targets were very difficult to see. I was planning to pass Dodge five pieces of information to help them find the targets: IP (initial point—the place where they should start their attack), heading, distance, elevation, and coordinates. I also gave them a target description once they were within visual range. The Harriers had an electro-optical targeting pod, which they could use to look closely at targets. I was planning to use this device to get their eyes on the revetments.
Dodge 61 came up on the ultrahigh frequency (UHF) radio:
“Cub Three-One, Dodge Six-One.”{1}
“Three-One go ahead.” Dodge didn’t hear my response, and the radio went quiet—but not for long.
While plotting the revets on my 1-to-250-scale map, I dropped the map between my ejection seat and my right control panel. Pushing the jet over with some negative Gs, I tried to get it to fly back up to me, but only got it hopelessly trapped directly beneath the ejection seat. I called Dirt on our Fox-Mike frequency, where no one else was listening: “You are not going to believe this but I just dropped my 1-to-250.”
Dirt’s response was not at all what I expected: “OK, triple-A now… triple-A coming up… I need you to come down here southbound.” Dirt was trying to keep me clear of the exploding AAA rounds cooking off right underneath us.
“Copy, I got the triple-A now. I’m visual the triple-A now.” For a moment I could make out a ridgeline, where I could see the puffs of smoke coming out of the guns in a group of four to six positions. The AAA pits were two
