Every Man a Tiger: The Gulf War Air Campaign

the big head—“Gee, I’m going to be in charge!”—swiftly followed by the more chilling realization that what he was in charge of could become a tremendous, tragic disaster. He thanked God silently for the presence of John Yeosock, Grant Sharp, and Don Kaufman, who were sitting beside him in that grand but somber meeting hall. Another prayer, never far from his lips, also came. “Please, God, keep me from screwing things up.”

By midafternoon, Cheney and the others returning to Washington were at Jeddah’s international airport, delivering last-minute instructions to those who were to stay in Saudi Arabia. No one there guessed that in six short months, this huge complex, called Jeddah New, the primary entry point for Islamic pilgrims making the hajj to the two holy cities of Mecca and Medina, would be wall-to-wall with B-52 bombers and KC-135 tankers.

Meanwhile, over two dozen battle-hardened Iraqi divisions stood at the border. Horner had at his disposal exactly two armored-car companies of Saudi National Guards.

In the windy afternoon heat, amid the bustle of loading and goodbyes, Schwarzkopf and Horner stood on the airport ramp, at the foot of the stairs leading up to Cheney’s 707, and discussed what needed to be done.

Among the points they talked about was campaign planning. “Since your staff will be disrupted packing up and deploying,” Schwarzkopf said, “I’m going to ask the Joint Staff”—the planning staff of the JCS in the Pentagon —“to start work on a strategic air campaign plan.” (Later this became the USAF staff in the Pentagon.)

The phrase “strategic air campaign” rang like Easter bells in Chuck Horner’s head. The CINC was acting like a CINC and not like an Army general. Instead of talking about a ground campaign to repel an Iraqi invasion or to evict the Iraqis from Kuwait, he was talking strategic[28] air campaign.

What did that mean?

Most air campaign plans are put together at the behest of the Army, and the purpose of the Army is to defeat the enemy army. To an army person, air planning means using airpower to support his own operations. That is not the way an airman looks at it. To the airman, his job is to defeat the enemy—a job that may or may not include defeating an enemy army. Therefore, the Air Force code for use of airpower aimed at the heart of the enemy, and not at his ground forces, is strategic air campaign.

Back in April 1990, Horner had briefed Schwarzkopf about the need for a strategic air campaign plan in preparation for the planned July Internal Look exercise. The scenario there had been army-against-army, but Horner had wanted to show airpower as something beyond a ground support role, to expose his new boss to ways of thinking that would allow Horner to exercise airpower in a more productive and effective way. At the briefing, Horner had talked ballistic missile defense, close air support, how to work with Allied air forces, and how to use airpower “strategically.” Schwarzkopf had liked the briefing and, as always, was sensitive to expanding his concept of airpower to complement his already vast understanding of land power.

Thus, when Schwarzkopf started talking right from the start about the need for a strategic air campaign plan, he showed that he remembered that briefing back in April. More important, in Chuck Horner’s view, he showed that he had grown up — and away from — his Army roots.

For a moment, Horner was thrilled. How could he not be?

But then the sounds in his head changed from Easter bells to Klaxons, and the ghosts of Vietnam assaulted him. “Washington?… the Pentagon?… Shit!” As soon as it dawned on him that the CINC intended to have the plans made in Washington, Horner went ballistic and shouted, “Okay, but we ain’t picking the goddamn targets in Washington!”

Though his air component commander’s anger caught him off guard, Schwarzkopf smiled. “Look, Chuck,” he said, “you’re my air boss, with final veto authority over everything connected with air. Any air plans will be ‘presented’ to you. We’re going to plan and execute this war in the theater.” He, too, remembered Vietnam.

The Joint Staff has its virtues, Horner was thinking, as he heard these words. It’s even good at a few things. But it’s best at compromise between the Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marine Corps. Any plan that is the product of compromise is bound to be mediocre. And any air plan that is built by anyone other than airmen is bound to be a disaster. Horner trusted that Schwarzkopf knew this in his guts and would ensure that any work started in Washington would be delivered to the fliers who had to execute it and succeed. He proved true to his word.

After the VIPs boarded their aircraft and headed home to America, Grant Sharp and Paul Wolfowitz left to tour the Gulf allies to consult, seek agreements, and secure support for the U.S. forces, while Ambassador Freeman, John Yeosock, his aide, Major Fong, Don Kaufman, Bill Rider, and Horner boarded a small, twin-engine C-12 prop plane operated by an outfit known as “GUTS Airline” (Greater USMTM [29] Transportation System — Kaufman’s guys). Flying in this fragile-looking aircraft didn’t bother Horner, but the Ambassador and Major Fong looked a little worried as they bounced into the hot desert air. Horner sat back in his seat as the noise from the props drowned out attempts at conversation, and tried to work out what he had to do.

Earlier, he had already started to unleash the flood of aerial reinforcements by notifying Bob Russ at TAC to get the 1st Tactical Fighter Wing F-15Cs headed east to supplement the Royal Saudi Air Force F-15s and Saudi AWACS who had been guarding the skies around the clock since the invasion.

The 1st Fighter Wing would be assigned the air-to-air missions, while the other wing, the 363d Fighter Wing, would be assigned primarily to do air-to-ground missions with their F-16C swing fighters. These were the two Ninth Air Force wings Horner had put on alert in July at the start of the crisis. For this, he had taken some heat from his bosses in the Air Force who were not in the CENTCOM chain of command. He also had the other Ninth Air Force units leaning forward.

Meanwhile, the Navy had a carrier task force headed for the Gulf, and Marines embarked on transports were also en route, as was Horner’s good friend, Lieutenant General Gary Luck, with the lead elements of the XVIII Airborne Corps, primarily the paratroopers of the 82d Airborne Division.[30]

He then ran over where they would unload the Army and Marine Corps, as well as where to beddown the forces. How do we house and feed them? he asked himself, with the memory of the Beirut barracks bombing, where hundreds of Marines had lost their lives, still fresh in his mind. While Saudi Arabia was the safest nation in the world, some there would still side with Saddam Hussein. What could they do to our forces as they deployed into the airfields and ports? he asked himself. And then as they moved to the bases and into the desert? No matter how good the Saudi or U.S. forces were that were tasked to provide security, a single well-placed bomb could wipe out the deploying CENTCOM staff. Riyadh hotels were also an inviting target, vulnerable to a well-trained Iraqi special forces team.

If the threat of air or terrorist attack, or just plain accident (as in the crash of a troop-filled aircraft) weren’t enough to give him pause, there were the growing numbers of Iraqi tanks and troops just over the border to the north. Consequently, the single most important question Horner had to ask himself in those dark days before his own forces were in place was What will we do if the Iraqis come across the border tonight? That particular night, any effective response would have been tough, since there wasn’t much standing between the Iraqis and Riyadh but the Saudi Air Force and hundreds of miles of desert. If they’d come toward Riyadh that night, Horner planned to drive to Jeddah and rent a boat. Each night thereafter, new and stronger forces were available to resist the invasion that never came.

Added to those questions were the more complex everyday problems of gaining the enthusiastic cooperation of all the host nations — not only Saudi Arabia but Bahrain, Qatar, the United Arab Emirates, Oman, and Egypt.

When one is doing business in the Middle East, the first requirement is patience. The American way is to focus on the heart of a problem, define a course of action, and implement the solution. In the Arab world, business is done more gently. Since personal relationships are all-important, business is conducted with a leisurely civility. A promise is given only after great deliberation, for once one’s word is given, it must be kept. The Arab way is to discuss, consider, and avoid mistakes made in haste. The Arab way is to take time to understand all aspects of a situation; they have a deep aversion to making mistakes that could cause hard feelings between individuals, tribes, or nations. So Horner knew that all he needed was a couple of years to discuss how to beddown the oncoming troops, how to organize command arrangements, and who should accomplish which tasks, where, and when, in order to make the deployment a success.

Time. Time was the real enemy. The desert summer of the Arabian Peninsula was a killer, and Iraqi intentions were unknown.

Sitting there in his aircraft seat, winging toward Riyadh, a hollow feeling came over him; fearful thoughts