the trap of trying to give the boss what they thought he wanted, rather than what they knew he needed. The material was vague, airy, lightweight. It scarcely began to show comprehension of the myriad facts and details that a good briefer condensed and focused into a very few words.
It primarily contained a list of forces that would deploy according to the Time Phased Force Deployment List (TPFDL — which is the military’s way of talking about moving things and people), as well as some discussion about where the forces would be located on the Saudi Arabian peninsula. This was interesting and important information as far as it went; but the point of any deployment was not the movement and placement of forces, but the way the forces could be brought to bear against a potential enemy. The briefing did not address that issue. It did not convey the combat power those aircraft were capable of bringing against the attacking Iraqi forces, nor did it point out where and when the aircraft would strike the Iraqi forces, nor the logistics factors (such as fuel and munitions availability) these combat operations would require, or how these would impact sortie rates.
In short, the briefing talked about
During the first two slides, the CINC showed amazing patience. “Perhaps he was hoping it would get better,” Horner observes, “like the kid pawing through a pile of horse manure hoping to find a pony inside.” Unfortunately, the briefing got worse, and so did Schwarzkopf ’s temper. As his questions and comments increased in volume and velocity, the room grew charged with electricity. Many hunkered down into the near-fetal position staff officers learn to achieve in an upright chair. Others gleefully anticipated the inevitable Schwarzkopf eruption.
For a second, Horner allowed himself a small, childish “I told you so” thought, but quickly switched it off.
He turned to the CINC and quietly suggested that perhaps the President just wanted to know how soon Air Force units could arrive in the theater, where they would be located, how they would be supported, what levels of effort could be sustained, and what type of jobs they could be expected to undertake to deter or defeat an Iraqi invasion. He could see that this part of the briefing had been troubling the CINC, and that he was looking for a way to convey this information to the President in as credible a manner as the ground piece of the briefing, which he had worked out so well.
Schwarzkopf agreed. In fact, Horner’s suggestion was just what he wanted to hear just then. That being the case, he ordered the staff to turn out and help Horner put it together.
You could feel the relief in the room from everyone except Chuck Horner. In essence, he’d promised that he’d fix up everything himself. Now he had to perform perfectly, and fast; the CINC was due to depart for Washington and Camp David around midnight.
He returned to the command center, only this time he did not ask, “Can I help?” Horner told them what he wanted, and, to their credit, Burt Moore and his J-3 staff gave him their complete support.
What he needed first of all was a stack of overhead transparency slides. Since 1990 was already the day of desktop computers with dedicated software, he sat down next to a young, computer-literate staff member and his machine, and went to work. He’d draw a sketch of what he had in mind on a piece of typing paper, and then the kid would punch it into the computer to produce the finished slide. Quickly, the pile of slides began to grow — number charts, maps, diagrams. The various slides outlined a vast exercise in airpower, rapidly and easily deployed, hosted at a number of bases throughout the Gulf region. The operations were to be supported in large measure by over a billion dollars’ worth of equipment, munitions, and supplies.
If Iraq continued its attack through Kuwait and into Saudi Arabia, land-and sea-based aircraft would immediately be on the scene to work with the Gulf allies. They would bring to bear an array of modern weapons targeted by a host of the latest intelligence-collection assets, directed by a theater-wide command-and-control element that could devastate the attacking Iraqi forces as their supply lines fanned out across the desert and along Saudi Arabia’s highways. It would be a formidable challenge. It had to be. Iraq’s air force was well trained and equipped. Its army was shielded by thousands of antiaircraft guns and surface-to-air missiles. Formidable as they were, however, they would encounter airpower beyond their ability to comprehend.
Horner threw himself into the briefing. With over thirty-two years of experience in the Air Force, and three years of working with the Gulf nations and their air forces, he knew he could put together a briefing that would make the pieces of the air plan clear to the President. No one knew more about threats, air war, and air operations in the Middle East than he did.
He was confident, and it showed when he went over the slides with General Schwarzkopf at 2300 (11:00 P.M. EDT) that Friday night.
But then his fighter pilot confidence wavered when General Schwarzkopf smiled and said, “Looks good, Chuck. Why don’t
Horner sat stunned for a moment, then let out a puff of air.
? Later, after Schwarzkopf had left, he sat thinking. He couldn’t screw this up. If he failed to transmit the right information, it could endanger the lives of many thousands, and the existence of a nation he respected deeply. This was not about war. In fact, if the military options were presented truthfully and executed skillfully, then war might be averted. But if war
He looked through his notes again, then through the slides, then he leaned back in his chair, thinking back to that day twenty-eight years before that was never far from his mind: the sand, the sky, the certainty that he was going to die. Was this what it had all been for? Was this what God had had in mind…?
I
Into the Wild Blue
1
Every Man a Tiger
Fighter pilots know something of what Arabs know, and what few of us like to admit — that none of us is in control of our lives, that we’re all in the hands of God.
In 1962, while he was stationed at Lakenheath, England, young Lieutenant Chuck Horner was in North Africa, at Wheelus, Libya, flying an F-100D Super Saber, training on the gunnery range that the Air Force had established in those days of friendship with the Libyan government of King Idris. The weather in Libya was better than anywhere in Europe; there were hundreds of miles of desert to spare for a gunnery range; and for recreation, the old walled town had a camel market, Roman ruins, decent Italian restaurants, and beaches nearby for relaxing on weekends. The officers’ club rocked every night, and the pilots had plenty of time to drink and lie, two of their most pleasurable activities. It was fighter pilot heaven.
One day at Wheelus, Horner was number three in a group of four, flying strafe patterns. Imagine four lines in a square pattern on the ground whose corners are — very roughly — a mile apart. At each of these corners is an F-100. The target is located in one corner of this box. The airplane on the corner turning to head toward the target is rolling in to shoot at the target. The airplane behind him at the corner diagonally across the box is turning base leg; he is getting ready to shoot next. The airplane behind him is flying toward the base leg turning point. And the airplane coming off the target has just completed his gunnery pass and is trying to visually acquire the other three aircraft so he can space on them for his next turn at the target. It’s extremely important to maintain that spacing. If the pilot puts the base leg too far out, then his dive angle is flat and he can pick up ricochets. If he gets it in too
