picture, airspeed, altitude, and dive angle so the bomb will hit the target. As I rolled out, I realized I needed to come off dry—without dropping any bombs—because the wind had blown me too far, and I would not be able to attain the necessary delivery parameters to make a good pass and kill the target. Fortunately, I decided to come off early and had enough energy to expedite the next attack.
Jimbo had suppressed the threat area with the gun before I rolled down the chute. He put a bunch of bullets in the vicinity of the launch site, and I dropped my bombs on a nearby tree line, close to a road intersection where military vehicles appeared to be located. As I recovered from my pass, Jimbo noticed a green, fluorescent flash that indicated I had hit something with rocket fuel or ammunition in it. After this attack we left the target area for the tanker and then headed home.
We debriefed with our intel NCO, SSgt Amos Elliot, on what we saw and what had happened. Amos was very excited about getting all the specifics. BDA is usually very difficult to get, especially on fielded forces, but it is a very important aspect of the entire war effort. After our in-depth discussion, we were pretty sure we had hit a mobile SAM system. While we made sure to report it as “probable,” not “confirmed,” we also knew there was little chance of its ever being confirmed. The Serbians’ standard practice was to haul away the wreckage of targets we had hit to make BDA more difficult. It was another piece of Milosevic’s propaganda puzzle that still plagues NATO today.
The Only Sortie as a Wingman
I “grew up” as a first-assignment FAC at Osan AB in the Republic of South Korea, the “Land of the Morning Calm” or the “Land of the Not-Quite-Right,” depending on how I viewed my own situation. That assignment was the best thing that ever happened to me as a FAC. I learned by leaps and bounds from the best fighter pilots and AFACs in the world—the AFACs who carried the revered Misty call sign. While at Osan I listened to the older Hog drivers who had been in Desert Storm, learning from their combat experiences and hoping to have the chance to put my training into the “Big Game.”
From Korea I went to the 81st Fighter Squadron at Spangdahlem for my second operational tour. With the Panthers, I gained valuable experience in the A/OA-10’s missions and learned how NATO integrated them into an air campaign.
My only sortie as a Panther wingman was the closest I came to meeting a Serb soldier face-to-face. Being in the CSAR rotation as a Sandy 1 and a FAC, I was surprised to see I was on the schedule to fly on the wing of Kimos Haave, the squadron commander. This was a role I had explained to my wingman many times before, and now it was time to walk the walk. Being a good wingman takes discipline, especially since I was used to being a flight lead. It was not my formation to run and I was not responsible for the navigation. My job called for providing support to my flight lead, keeping him in sight, and watching for any threats to the formation or our supporting fighters. With this in mind, I had put away my maps and had zero intention of pulling them back out unless it was necessary or requested by the flight lead.
Kimos, as the mission commander, gave the briefing and went over our targeting information for the day. There had been some heavy activity along the borders, due in no small part to the ROEs that were in effect. I was glad to be flying in the afternoon since the morning fog had delayed or cancelled most of the early packages that week. The afternoon-go also had the benefit of intelligence updates and hot target areas from the morning’s sorties.
We stepped to the jets and launched on time across the Adriatic with Kimos as Pepper 01 and me as Pepper 02. Because of some problems with the tanker, the entire package was delayed. We pressed across the “fence” 45 minutes late and began our target search with the imagery we had received. The active ABCCC aircraft was a Navy E-2C Hawkeye, call sign Cyclops, responsible for coordination among all elements to include the CAOC in northern Italy. Shortly after we arrived on station, Cyclops informed us of an active Serb command post west of Urosevac and requested that we locate the target. Kimos found the area and then began a search from medium altitude. He quickly located the command post and several nearby armored vehicles. In accordance with the ROEs, we still had to coordinate for attack permission because of the proximity to the Macedonia border, even though we had been directed to, had found, and had positively identified this target.
After we received authority to strike, we armed up our 500 lb Mk-82s, and Kimos called, “One’s in.” His bombs hit a tank and a command-post building. He then cleared me in on two APCs slightly to the south.
I returned his call with, “Two’s in.” With my flight lead in a cover position, I rolled down the chute. The bombs hit on target, but I did not see any secondary explosions because I was maneuvering and ejecting flares as I pulled off target. The E-2C relayed that a set of F/A-18s was en route to the target area. When the Hornets arrived, Kimos gave a quick FAC brief and rolled in to mark with Willy Pete rockets.
“One’s off dry, hung rockets,” called Kimos. His selected rocket pod had malfunctioned, so he selected his jet’s other pod and rolled in again. After his second passed he radioed, “One’s off dry, both pods of rockets are hung. Two, you have the lead. Go ahead and mark for the Hornets.”
I assumed the lead, maneuvered my jet to a different attack axis, and rolled in. The second smoke was on target and the lead Hornet began to employ his ordnance. The second jet lost sight of the target area and asked for another mark. “Watch the number of passes in a target area” was the lesson firmly planted in everyone’s mind after Maj Goldie Haun had been hit by a MANPADS and limped to Skopje only two days prior.
“Two’s in.”
I hammered down on the pickle button at 17,000 feet above mean sea level (MSL) and was rewarded with a quick, “tally the target,” from the second Hornet. When the Hornets departed for the carrier after their attack, we egressed the target area and began a new search.
“Pepper 01, this is Cyclops. We have a two-ship of A-10s with CBU that needs a target.” Kimos called them up and decided to have them unload their CBUs on the command-post area.
At this point I was fairly comfortable with the target area. The Serbs had not shot back on their “normal” timing, and I was now lighter and had good energy, having already dropped my bombs. With Kimos in a cover position and the fighters in trail to watch the mark, I began a roll-in to the right on a previously unused attack axis.
“Two, break left!” was the call I heard. I immediately began to dispense flares, turned in the cockpit, and saw two trails of smoke following behind what appeared to be red flares arcing towards my jet. Since I had been in the process of rolling in, I had already committed myself to a right turn—versus the break left—and began to lower the nose while pulling hard on the stick to turn quickly and put the missile at three o’clock. I can still see the red glow of the rocket motors and the way the missiles kept turning with me. I remember thinking that the missiles were rejecting the flares, and my next thought was, “What is three to five seconds?” (Our training tells us that three to five seconds before we think the missile will impact, we should perform a special maneuver to make the missile miss.) I was still breaking into the missiles and ejecting flares when the first missile lost track. I saw it would miss well behind the jet, but the second was rapidly getting closer.
“Two, get rid of your stuff.” One of the other A-10s advised me to “combat jettison” all of my ordnance to improve my turn and energy state. It seemed like I had time to think it over and decide that I was okay with just my Mavericks. There was no way I was going to take my hands off the stick or the throttle and the flare button located on it!
As I began a last-ditch defensive maneuver, the second missile began to fall behind the aircraft. I can still see the missile trying to turn and “hack” the corner as it began to lag. With all this defensive maneuvering, I had turned approximately 270 degrees, and I was now looking exactly at where the two smoke trails had started their journey. Time to turn the tables. The GAU-8 30 mm Avenger cannon is the most flexible and formidable weapon on the A-10. Since it was built to destroy Soviet tanks in Germany’s Fulda Gap, one can imagine its effectiveness on softer types of vehicles—especially a lightly armored SAM system.
I distinctly remember switching from rockets to the gun in the weapons-delivery mode of my head-up display and then placing the pipper short of the two vehicles where the smoke trail began. I dropped the hammer and began to retaliate in anger. An A-10 driver will normally shoot about 100–200 rounds in a combat burst, attempting
