TARPS imagery from the VF-102 F-14 Tomcats, ES-3 Shadow ELINT/SIGINT aircraft, as well as several new systems that were being tested in this exercise.
For the R&S units, their ROEs were simple: If possible, don't engage enemy forces. They were clandestine reconnaissance teams; their job was to avoid detection by the Red security forces. They could use force only in self-defense. This meant they would be allowed to lay simulated Claymore mines, but they could not use incendiary weapons. According to the insertion plan, the ten teams would board the three CH-53s at 2200 hours, and lift off at 2215. The flight would take over seventy minutes (we were still several hundred miles away from Onslow Bay). The choppers would fly in formation at low level, and would use every deceptive trick available to keep the locations of the teams secret from the Red forces. Should an evacuation be required, a TRAP team would be in continuous standby, and ready to pick up any team from any LZ that they could access.
After the briefing broke up, I wandered up topside to get some air. While the flight deck is usually restricted, there is a wide catwalk along the starboard side of the island where the rules are relaxed; it is a favorite among the crew. This is wonderful place to sit and watch the sea. So I found a folding chair and sat awhile. Alongside Wasp was a fleet oiler, which was shooting messenger lines across the space between the ships to set up for a refueling. At the same time, UH-46Ds were shuttling back and forth from the oiler to the ships of the ARG, lifting and delivering pallets of food and aircraft parts and whatever else the ships needed. All this seemed so bizarre it was almost unnatural — like watching hippos dancing. Bizarre or not, the ability to refuel and resupply at sea sets a great power apart from those nations with only coastal defense forces. These operations went on for over an hour, and only the coming darkness and dinner caused me to break away and head back inside.
USS Wasp, 200 nm/366 km Northwest of Camp Lejeune, North Carolina, 2100 Hours, July 18th, 1995
At 2100 hours, I joined Lieutenant Colonel Allen on the hangar deck to talk with the members of the various R&S teams that were preparing to head upstairs and board their helicopters. For this mission HMM-264 to made ready all four of their CH-53E Super Stallions, so there would be a bump aircraft in case one went 'down.' As I walked around the hangar bay, the teams were checking their weapons and other equipment, particularly their communications gear. This included a number of satellite-radio and HF sets, which were designed to provide secure communications back to the Wasp. Every team had at least one GPS receiver. Some had Trimble PLGR units, and the rest had the newer handheld Rockwell SLRGs.
At 2145 hours, the 1MC announced Flight Quarters, and things began to pick up. I walked up the ramp from the hangar deck to the island and waited there with the fifty-two R&S team members, quietly sweating in the subdued lighting. As I waited for the engines to start, Colonel Battaglini moved quietly up the ramp, talking softly to his Marines, encouraging them to keep tough and focused on what was clearly going to be a long and hot four day mission in the bush. The order to start engines came at 2200, the teams loaded up, and then the Super Stallions held, awaiting final clearance from the Air Boss. As I watched from the island, I could see the blue flares of static electricity flying off the rotor blades of the CH-53s, looking like something out of a science-fiction movie. Then, at 2215, the three choppers lifted off, immediately dousing their normal red and green navigation lights (they have infrared and subdued green ones for clandestine operations), formed a stepped formation, and headed southwest for Camp Lejeune. As quiet returned to
That all changed just eight minutes later at 2223 hours. Flying low over the water to avoid radar detection by the air traffic control radars at MCAS New River, the three Super Stallions ran smack into a gift from Tropical Storm Chantal. The cold front had moved in over the warm water of the Gulf Stream, and a thick bank of fog had come up with no warning. Suddenly flying blind on night-vision goggles is a very dangerous situation, and peacetime rules require a quick, prescribed response. The three crews went into a pre-planned separation maneuver, formed up again north of the fog bank, and immediately aborted the insertion mission. All of this was done without radio transmissions, to avoid revealing to the Red forces radio-interception units that anything untoward had happened. Less than a half hour after liftoff, the whole force was back aboard the Wasp, pleased that they had safely handled the emergency, but angry that the MEU (SOC)'s entire intelligence-collection plan had just gone into the scrap heap.
Meanwhile, the normally calm demeanor of Battaglini and Allen was showing some cracks. I quickly followed them down to the LFOC, where they sat their staffs down and began to make plans to rebuild as much of the R&S plan as they could. Some damage, they knew, could not be undone: In addition to the situational awareness they would give up because of the absence of the R&S team, they would lose a full day of supporting fires from air strikes and offshore destroyers. At 0200, while everyone was still tensely trying to make the best of a tangled situation, I excused myself back to my cabin to get some sleep. 'Friction' had again struck a MEU (SOC) mission. Things were going to get very interesting in the three days left in the JTFEX-95 exercise.
USS
By reveille at 0600, the folks in the LFOC had come up with a plan to restart the stillborn R&S effort of the night before. Overnight, they had put together an unconventional insertion plan based on the fact that Camp Lejeune was their home base and they knew how it worked. All told, there are over thirty thousand Marines based there, which means that men moving across the base in full kit is as common as the sun coming up. It also turned out that the 26th had left a 'stay-behind' counterintelligence team ashore after the completion of the SOCEX, and this was to be used to support the new insertion plan. So, after a few calls on a cellular phone, arrangements were made to re-run the CH-53E insertion mission of the night before that afternoon. In addition, the ashore team was to conduct a covert observation of the Red headquarters and go through their office trash, looking for documents related to the coming operation. These would be FAXed out to the
By 1800, these measures had been put into effect, and dinner was attended by an extremely tired pool of officers in the wardroom. By now, the BLT and MEU (SOC) staffs had been up for almost thirty-six hours straight, and they still had one more big event to go before this evening was finished — the dress rehearsal for the operational confirmation briefing that would be held the following morning. This briefing would provide a detailed look at the Friday morning assault on the Kartunan homeland. Held at 2000 hours, the briefing went over every detail of the planned 'invasion.' And it was a complete bust…mostly because the tired young officers hadn't been able to put the necessary time and coordination into their briefing slides. When they were done, Jim Battaglini, a man of few words, stood up and made his displeasure clear. 'Get it right for tomorrow,' he commanded. At the morning briefing, the ground and amphibious forces component commanders from JTF-11 were scheduled to fly over from the
Returning to the wardroom at 2315, they discovered that mess specialists had pulled out all the stops…in the form of hot ham-and-cheese-melt sandwiches and a small mountain of French fries. Soon you could feel the energy and morale level of the group change as they munched their way through the coordination problems that had plagued their briefings. As the group broke around 0100 to get some sack time, I wandered down to the LFOC to see how things were going. During the evening intelligence briefing I'd noticed some disturbing trends in the air campaign, and I wanted to talk to John Allen about them. I wasn't the only one to pick up on this situation. In fact, by the time I found Allen, Colonel Battaglini had already started to deal with it. He had called Allen and the ACE
