Commando Quilters

Left to right: Cathy Messner, Donna Martin, Laura Gamble, Suzanne Timmie, CC Kay, Tammy Flood, Betty Davis, and Sherri Hayes. Not pictured are Janet DeSalle and Lynnette Percival

I was going through some Commando Quilters’ files and found this letter from Scotty Fales. We presented Scotty with a quilt on November 2018, and he thanked us with this very thoughtful letter.

In re-reading this letter all these years later, it hit me how much history and how many heroes I had the opportunity to work with for almost 30 years in AFSOC! Not comprehending the strength and courage the people I worked with daily had accomplished in past missions or events. It is very humbling.

Anyway, I don’t think I shared this letter at the time and thought you would appreciate it as much as I do.
For me it was very impactful the first time I read it, and still is every time I read of the acts of bravery of our Air Commandos.

Sherri J. Hayes
Former Executive Director of Manpower, Personnel and Services, AFSOC, Hurlburt Field, FL

Hi Sherri, Cathy, Lynette, Laura, and Betty, a.k.a., the “Bad Ass Quilters”

First, let me say that I would have handwritten this, but then you probably wouldn’t be able to read it. My old and broken fingers don’t write so well these days. You folks are amazing quilters and I want to express my heartfelt and humble gratitude for the most beautiful quilt I have ever seen. It was truly a surprise and a gift for the soul.

Over a long active duty and civilian career I have been in a lot of tough spots. I’ve been on numerous rescue missions in the Pacific Ocean, Sierra Nevada and Rocky Mountains, in the North Atlantic and on the glaciers of Iceland. I’ve conducted combat operations on Operation Just Cause in Panama, Desert Storm in Iraq, and the battle of Mogadishu. And finally as a civilian, I have been on classified interagency operations in Columbia, Iraq, Afghanistan, and Pakistan. I only tell you this for perspective because nothing forces me to reflect or has impacted me more than the 1993 Battle in Mogadishu, Somalia.

October 3, 2017 was the 24th anniversary of Operation Gothic Serpent, often referred to as, “Black Hawk Down”. Each year on that day, I am always impacted by thoughts of my 18 friends, brothers, and teammates that lost their lives that day. As I think of them and ponder that tremendous loss I am reminded that they willingly and selflessly held “the line” side-by-side with the soldiers, sailors, and airman to their left and right. The line I referred to is “the line of service and sacrifice”. All of us in service, including the Air Commando Quilters hold that line. We place ourselves in a position between the challenge and the people of the United States. Whether it be supporting an organization like Air Commando Association or filling the breach in combat to stem the tide of evil; when people such as yourselves volunteer their time, talent, and treasure to contribute to a cause greater than yourselves, that’s holding the line. The Air Command Association is very lucky to have the Commando Quilters on their team!

Thank you again for the quilt but thank you even more for holding the line. Each time I look at this quilt I will remember you and thank you for your service and support to the Air Commando Association, veterans, families, and our nation.
In the box, you’ll find a small token of my appreciation. Each time you hold these in your hand, I want you to remember there are men and women out there somewhere in harm’s way, stemming the tide of evil, quietly, and professionally holding the line.

With heartfelt appreciation,
Scott Fales, MSgt, USAF (Retired)
Air Commando Hall of Fame recipient 2016

This article/publication is for the information, interest, and enjoyment of our readers. Views and opinions expressed are of the author or source of material and do not necessarily reflect opinions, views, or endorsements of the Air Commando Association. Material in the Air Commando Journal (ACJ) may be reproduced provided the source is credited. Air Commando Journal is not sponsored by DoD, USAF, or AFSOC.

Written by Ethan Brown, Casemate Publishing, Nov 2024

Reviewed by: By Steve Hreczkosij, Lt Col (Ret), USAF

In the twenty-three years since the attacks of September 11, there has been a multitude of books published on nearly every aspect of the Global War on Terror. Gallons of ink have been spilt by generals and grunts, on grand strategies and on single battles, however, to my knowledge, there has been a distinct lack of books about the Air Force’s role in the recent wars, and specifically about those men who became emblematic of our air wars, the Joint Terminal Air Controllers, aka JTACs. Finally, that lack has been addressed by the forthcoming book Visual Friendlies, Tally Targets: How Close Air Support in the War on Terror Changed the Way America Made War (Volume 1 – Invasions) by Ethan Brown.

Mr. Brown’s book marks a timely contribution to the historical record of the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, but most importantly it is a riotously fun read. The book is constructed as an escalating narrative, alternating between chapters on the technical development of close air support doctrine, followed by riveting chapters full of “there I was” stories. The narrative positively soars with the types of war stories that we used to hear in the squadron bar. Most of our readers are familiar with the term “force multiplier”, and these war stories demonstrate how that bloody math works out on the ground.

Mr. Brown has the credibility to bring these stories to life. He spent eleven years in the USAF as a Tactical Air Control Party NCO assigned to the 75th Ranger Regiment, where he mastered the craft of controlling close air support attack aircraft. After leaving the USAF he entered the world of academia, serving as a fellow with the Center for the Study of the Presidency and Congress while also completing master’s degrees from both Georgetown and Johns Hopkins. His resume aside, the man is a fine author. His narrative voice seamlessly transitions from the esoteric explanations of joint doctrine, right back to the “down-in-the-dirt” war stories.

Those battlefield stories are the heart and soul of the book, and readers with an interest in the grist of combat will find them thrilling. He begins, unsurprisingly, in Afghanistan. The 12-man teams who parachuted into that graveyard of empires found themselves outnumbered, but not outgunned. It was the JTACs that served to even the odds, bringing American firepower to bear on enormous enemy formations. He recounts the assault on Mazer-e-Sharif, where three well-placed JTACs called in a hailstorm of iron-borne destruction. The Northern Alliance found themselves stunned by the American’s ability to utterly destroy battalion sized Taliban units, and soon enough the invasion of Afghanistan was complete, thanks to the B-52s, and the REI handheld GPSs personally bought by the airmen as they ran out the door.

The action in the book quickly moves on to Iraq, where the scene changes from austere to urban. Once again, Mr. Brown shares compelling story after story of how the embedded airmen enabled the ground forces to precisely dispatch enemy forces. In one vignette, he writes of a small friendly force charged with holding the Haditha Dam. The Army O-3 posted his CP right on the top center of the dam itself, with defensive positions on either side. The Iraqi Army commenced to assault the position from every direction, and it was only the JTAC and his access to airpower that saved the day. This story serves to demonstrate the complexity of close air support. Unlike Call of Duty, air attacks in the real world cause real effects. The JTAC found himself balancing the destructive forces needed to eliminate the enemy with the very real threat of destroying the dam itself which they were charged to protect. Using inventive vectoring and the precise application of the right size of munitions, he was able to engage his targets while preserving the dam.

The ingenuity of the JTACs to solve these problems comes through again and again throughout the book. Many of the JTACs were under 30 years old and had never been in combat prior to 2001. They had been trained on Gulf War tactics, with Cold War equipment. As the GWOT progressed, the JTACs found themselves re-writing their manuals as they redeployed and trained their replacements.

In just such an episode, a JTAC was accompanying the force that rescued POW Jessica Lynch. The close quarters battle and fluid dynamic of the fight meant that fixed wing air attack was not necessarily the best solution. The JTAC found himself controlling not just A-10s in the air, but coordinating for helicopter fires, mortars, and vehicle mounted weapons as well. When the GPS and laser designators proved inadequate for marking targets in urban combat, the JTACs utilized anti-tank Javelin rockets to “mark” the IDs, a tactic which had never been employed before.

The book is more than just war stories. In the alternating chapters, the author walks the reader through the evolution of close air support. He describes how the doctrine evolved from a Cold War mentality of pre-programmed target sets, through the dynamic fight with laser designators and crew-programmable GPS weapons, and ending the book with the rise of video feed ISR platforms and the “digital” JTAC. Doctrine development can be a little dry and academic, but the author moves through the topics efficiently. I found myself eager to get through the “lesson” so I could get to the next chapter which described the new tactic in action.

Visual Friendlies, Tally Target is a fun engaging read, and the author is to be commended for providing such a fresh perspective on a well tread topic. Having read many past books on the battles of Afghanistan and Iraq, I was unsure if I could learn anything new. I am pleased to say that I was quite mistaken, and that Mr. Brown’s tale of gutsy airmen scrambling through mountain passes and hanging out top-floor windows both quickens the pulse and delights the mind. I highly recommend the book to our Air Commando readers, and I eagerly look forward to Volume II.

About the Author: Lt Col, retired, Steve Hreczkosij was commissioned into the Air Force in 1998 from AFROTC. He flew conventional C-130s with Air Mobility Command for eight years before joining AFSOC and becoming a Combat Aviation Advisor at the 6th SOS. He was CAA for the next 13 years before retiring from active duty in 2019. After his retirement he was briefly employed as an airline pilot and also served in the legislative liaison office at HQ AFSOC. He resides in Niceville, Florida, with his beautiful wife and fellow Air Commando, Lt Col Amber Hreczkosij, their children, and one very spoiled French bulldog.

This article/publication is for the information, interest, and enjoyment of our readers. Views and opinions expressed are of the author or source of material and do not necessarily reflect opinions, views, or endorsements of the Air Commando Association. Material in the Air Commando Journal (ACJ) may be reproduced provided the source is credited. Air Commando Journal is not sponsored by DoD, USAF, or AFSOC.

Rokayak, Blake, King, Bygraves, Braden, Payne (left to right) outside their casualty collection point at the Hamid Karzai International Airport in Kabul, Afghanistan. (Photo courtesy of Allie Hulcher and University of Alabama at Birmingham)

Author: Allie Hulcher
[Reprinted with permission from University of Alabama at Birmingham, Heersink School of Medicine]

August, 2021. Birmingham, Alabama. After working an overnight trauma call at University of Alabama at Birmingham (UAB) Hospital, six healthcare professionals gathered for a routine Friday morning meeting to discuss how their shift went. They didn’t know that within 48 hours, they would be bound for Kabul, Afghanistan, to join the dangerous and deadly effort to evacuate American citizens, allies, and Afghan refugees.

They didn’t know, but they were ready. Their entire training, including that shift they took together the night before in UAB’s trauma bays and operating rooms, prepared them for this very moment.

These six men were all active-duty members of the U.S. Air Force and made up an elite group – a Special Operations Surgical Team, or SOST. UAB has four SOST teams whose members are all embedded at UAB as credentialed faculty and staff. The particular UAB team that deployed to Afghanistan in 2021 was: Lt. Col. Adam Braden, anesthesiologist. Maj. Jesse Payne, critical care nurse and team lead; Maj. Omar Rokayak, D.O., surgeon and SOST Chief Medical Officer; Maj. Colin King, emergency physician; Master Sgt. Brandon Blake, respiratory care practitioner and team sergeant; Tech. Sgt. Ryan Bygraves, operating room technician.

Besides their medical training in their individual specialties, SOST members are also highly skilled in special operations training – meaning they can enter an austere, dangerous area with active warfare going on, defend and protect themselves and the injured, and provide the best medical care possible with the equipment on their backs – over 100 pounds worth of “battle rattle” – including their helmets, weapons, ammo, and medical equipment, medications, and fluids. Sgt. Blake even takes a portable ventilator in his pack.

They would all be putting their specialties to life-saving work in just a few days. After saying goodbye, I love you, and “don’t watch the news” to their loved ones, the team headed to Hurlburt Field in Florida (where the 24th Special Operations Wing and Air Force Special Operations Command is based), packed their equipment, and were on their way to Hamid Karzai International Airport in Kabul, Afghanistan.

Landing in Afghanistan

The situation on the ground was dire – hundreds of thousands of Afghan citizens, U.S. citizens, and other foreign nationals were desperately trying to leave after the Taliban takeover of the country. The U.S. had recently announced a complete withdrawal and deployed six thousand U.S. troops to evacuate U.S. and allied personnel, as well as Afghan allies. Kabul’s airport was the only secure route out of the country.

The UAB SOST team linked up with another SOST team from Las Vegas and came up with a plan to take rotating trauma shifts at the military treatment facility near the airport to provide extra coverage. This facility operated like a small hospital for operations happening in Afghanistan, and had a full staff of conventional military medical providers – but no special operation capabilities. Fortunately, the evacuation of these conventional assets had not yet occurred when the worst took place.

Over the next few days, the UAB SOST team spent their days location-scouting for potential casualty collection points in preparation for the withdrawal of all conventional medical personnel and in case they needed to treat injuries away from the facility with just the equipment in their packs. Their nights were spent taking trauma shifts at the facility, caring for civilians with injuries due to heat, crowding, explosives, and desperation – like ankles broken from jumping over fences and children burned in the midst of crowd-induced chaos.

A Deadly Suicide Bombing

In the afternoon of August 26, following a night trauma shift and a day reconnaissance mission, the UAB team returned to the medical facility and was notified that the base was being locked down due to an imminent threat. An hour later, the team was allowed to head to their barracks to get as much rest as they could. 25 minutes later, as they wound down form their tasks and just prior to bunking down, their radio sounded the alarm. “MASCAL, MASCAL, MASCAL.” A mass casualty incident had occurred.

A suicide bombing by the airport’s Abbey Gate had injured hundreds of people. This would be the largest mass casualty incident of the preceding 10 years of the Afghanistan War. The team quickly put their gear back on, gathered their equipment, and tactically maneuvered to the medical facility. After about five minutes of helping set up a flow for patients with their NATO counterparts and getting a lay of the land, trucks started pulling up with casualties.

For the next 15 hours straight, the two SOST teams, along with NATO medical personnel, worked nonstop to treat over 60 critically injured Afghans and military personnel. Rokayak and his UAB team participated in at least four major operations. Ultimately, the ability of SOST and all other NATO medical assets to function as one large, integrated, cohesive team, regardless of branch of service or national origin, is what allowed the teams to ensure the highest degree of success in such a catastrophic situation.

“It really speaks to what can be done when there’s cohesion, lack of ego, and mission focus across the board,” he said.

Major Payne, the critical care nurse and team lead, says there was an attitude of “get in where you can fit in.” SOST members were treating their patients, flexing to the operating rooms, bouncing back and forth to different trauma bays and ICUs, doing anything to help out.

The facility only had two operating rooms, therefore some procedures were done in hallways, and some operations were done on stretchers and hospital beds, right beside another patient in the OR. The SOST teams used equipment out of backpacks.

“The different teams had only known each other a week and yet we were flowing and working so well together,” Blake, the respiratory care practitioner and team sergeant said. “You want to see the greatest piece of the United States and NATO military – it was everybody doing everything possible to take care of the many Americans, allies, and Afghan civilians that came through.”

Dawn was breaking by the time the last of the patients were cared for. At this point, the UAB team had been awake for nearly 40 hours without sleep.

“All of us sat on the edge of our beds and said, ‘what just happened?’” Blake remembers.

The care provided included over 15 major operations and countless life-saving interventions. Over 37 patients were evacuated to higher echelons of care outside of the country, others to hospitals in the country based on clinical appropriateness. This was one of the most rapid evacuations of casualties in Air Force history and the largest non-combatant evacuation airlift operation in U.S. military history.

During the attack, 170 Afghans lost their lives, as did 13 American service members – the majority died immediately on the scene. These young men and women had been deployed to help evacuate vulnerable people in a non-combatant operation.

“Those we lost, they were supposed to leave the next day,” Payne said. “They were supposed to be getting on that plane alive.” Rokayak says it was “profound” to witness both the worst and best of humanity within a single 24-hour period.

“It was a day you saw indiscriminate violence inflicted on people who are trying to escape and have a better life,” Rokayak said. “On the same day, we saw the best of humanity through the efforts of everyone who worked endlessly throughout the day and night to save as many lives as possible.”

Rokayak says there aren’t enough words or acts to demonstrate his gratitude to the fallen heroes and gravely wounded from that day, let alone their families.

“They do all of this in service of a greater ideal,” Rokayak said. “It’s incredible, difficult to understand sacrifice.”

After the bombing at Abbey Gate, the special operations teams became the last surgical assets on the ground as more evacuations took place. They were back on their trauma rotations, caring for casualties. They knew the plan was for all U.S. military to withdraw from Afghanistan. Following the evacuation of conventional medical assets, each SOST team collapsed into their preplanned austere casualty collection points and prepared to receive casualties as needed. Finally, each team was assigned a different plane on which to provide medical care if need be on the last flights out of Afghanistan, thus ensuring uninterrupted surgical and critical care capabilities.

On August 30, the UAB SOST team was on the second to last C-17 out of Afghanistan. Thus ended the nearly 20-year war in Afghanistan, the United States’ longest war.

“When we got up airborne and leveled out, that was the first time you saw everybody take a deep breath and realize, we’re going home,” Blake said.

SOST & UAB – An Ideal Match

Active-duty medical professionals don’t have many opportunities to practice trauma medicine in-between deployments due to lower volumes of traumatic injuries on military bases. Medical treatment facilities on bases don’t typically see enough severe trauma cases for all medical personnel to remain ready and able to provide trauma care on the battlefield. That’s where military-civilian partnerships come in.

UAB, as a high volume American College of Surgeons-verified Level I trauma center, is an ideal location to provide active duty Air Force personnel with the hands-on clinical experiences they need to maintain clinical excellence.

The partnership between UAB and the Air Force began in 2006, with UAB hosting Air Force combat medics and pararescue jumpers, or PJs, for two-week rotations to stay medically sharp between deployments. Now, nearly 150 PJs and medics a year come to UAB for training.

The first SOST team was embedded at UAB in 2010 and now there are four SOST teams – meaning UAB hosts 24 SOST health care professionals who are fully clinically integrated.

UAB sees 6,500 trauma evaluations a year. By taking trauma calls, the SOST team members are able to stay in “a state of constant readiness.”

SOST members take individual trauma calls usually twice a week, providing extra sets of hands to the current surgeons and staff at UAB. They also take one to three 24-hour calls a month with their specific SOST group, allowing them real-life experience handling cases together and giving them, as Rokayak explains, “limitless opportunities to perfect our ability to function together.”

They make sure to cross train everyone on the team in all the specialties as much as possible, because they never know what limitations they’ll face. They absorb knowledge from their civilian counterparts, and pick the brains of different specialists in burn care and neurosurgery to get a baseline understanding of how to treat patients with their minimal equipment.

What makes UAB so great is being able to work with top tier professionals who have been doing this for years and years,” Blake explained. “It allows us to be the best versions of ourselves when we get downrange.”

When they’re not in Birmingham, they’re often completing tactical training for delivering care in restrictive and challenging environments – whether that’s by air, sea, or land. Their training takes them to different climates – from tropical (Puerto Rico) to desert (New Mexico) to Arctic (Alaska) to mountains (Romania).

Daniel Cox, M.D., UAB’s Trauma Medical Director and Chief of the UAB Trauma Service, is a Colonel in the Air Force Reserves and serves as Individual Mobilization Augmentee to the Air Force Special Operations Command (AFSOC) Command Surgeon. He previously served on an Air Force team embedded in Cincinnati and deployed to Afghanistan. He understands intimately what the embedded military personnel need to be successful.
“Clinically, because of the experience they get at UAB, they’re at the top of their game when they go out and deploy,” Cox said. “They are able to carry the high quality care that we do here directly out onto the battlefield for our wounded warriors.”

UAB’s trauma team is made up of a high percentage of active-duty service members and veterans – creating a culture of shared experiences and understanding.

Rokayak says he was able to work with legends in military trauma care, like Cox, John Holcomb, M.D. and Jeffrey Kerby, M.D., Ph.D. Holcomb is known as the “godfather of modern military trauma care” and is renowned researcher who served in the Army in Mogadishu, Somalia, where he was a part of the surgical team that delivered 48-hour non-stop care to soldiers during the battle that inspired the book and film Black Hawk Down. Kerby is an Air Force veteran and the Division Director for Trauma and Acute Care Surgery who originally brought PJs and SOST teams to UAB in 2006 and 2010 respectively.

“Any good that I’m able to do in the world wouldn’t be possible without the mentorship that I’ve been so fortunate to have,” Rokayak said. “They’ve enormously impacted who I am and who I strive to be.”

After his SOST service, Rokayak stayed on at UAB to complete his formal fellowship in trauma and surgical critical care. Now, he’s a reservist SOST surgeon, and Medical Director of military-civilian partnerships at Virginia Commonwealth University in Richmond.

UAB – And Its Patients – Benefit Too

With any partnership, the benefits go both ways. Rokayak was lead author on a paper published in the Journal of Trauma and Acute Care Surgery: The 16-year evolution of a military-civilian partnership: TheUniversity of Alabama at Birmingham experience. Coauthors include Drs. Cox, Holcomb, and Kerby. The paper highlights what makes the UAB mil-civ partnership successful, so other institutions can set up their own programs.

One of the few positive outcomes of war, as the paper explains, are the advancements gained from battlefield trauma care – and their integration into civilian trauma systems.

Examples include the ambulance system after the Civil War, blood banks after WWI, aeromedical evacuation after Korea and Vietnam, and damage control resuscitation strategies, tourniquets, and whole blood use after Iraq and Afghanistan.

“UAB benefits from the constant advances from military medicine that we’re able to implement for our patients right here in Birmingham,” Cox explained. “We’re on the cutting edge of advancement in trauma medicine because of this relationship.”

The most recent example of battlefield medicine is now saving lives in Birmingham. Birmingham has become one of the first cities in the country to take whole blood on ambulances, providing the critically injured with whole blood therapy on the scene. UAB’s trauma center has a 96 percent survival rate – but the patient has to arrive alive. The sooner the blood can get into a patient who’s bleeding out, the better, and studies have found that no other single intervention has a greater impact on survival than getting blood in the field.

Back home

The UAB and Vegas SOST members were all awarded the Bronze Star Medal, which is for
members of the Armed Forces for heroic or meritorious achievement or service in a combat zone.

Each member of UAB SOST team was recognized for diligent work, sound judgment, technical competence, exemplary leadership, devotion to duty, and the highest degree of professionalism.
“Without a doubt, service members and civilians are alive today because of the expertise and dedication of the member,” the award citation reads.

“The Bronze Star is something you get when you do something heroic,” Blake said. “But for us, we did our job. We did what we were trained to do and we were able to save the lives we were able to save.”

In their SOST office at UAB hangs a memorial to the 13 fallen service members killed on August 26, 2021.
“None of us are into accolades or self-advancement,” Rokayak said. “We do this because we believe in the mission and we believe in the value of the sacrifices that countless individuals and their families have made over the course of our nation’s history – including the 13 service members we lost. We are eternally indebted to those heroes and their families. It is a debt we can never truly repay but one that will forever drive us to continue our service to our nation as we strive to be worthy of such sacrifices.”

About the Author: Allie Hulcher is the Communications Specialist for the Division of Trauma and Acute Care Surgery at the University of Alabama at Birmingham Heersink School of Medicine. She has worked with UAB’s trauma team as their in-house communicator for three years. She has a degree in journalism from the University of Alabama.

This article/publication is for the information, interest, and enjoyment of our readers. Views and opinions expressed are of the author or source of material and do not necessarily reflect opinions, views, or endorsements of the Air Commando Association. Material in the Air Commando Journal (ACJ) may be reproduced provided the source is credited. Air Commando Journal is not sponsored by DoD, USAF, or AFSOC.

Authors: Senior Master Sergeant Gessica Lillich and Technical Sergeant Jorge Brooks

Introduction

As we stepped into the humid tent in rural Thailand, the United States Army First Corps (USA 1st Corps) Commanding General looked us over and said: “Give yourselves over to thought…be expansive.” With these words of encouragement, we began contemplating the formidable challenge of sustaining US forces across the vast expanse of the Indo-Pacific, a region of paramount strategic importance. Encompassing two oceans and 38 nations across land and water, the Indo-Pacific Theater is the US military’s largest region and logistical challenge. Additionally, anti-access/area denial (A2/AD) is a significant challenge in the region. The People’s Republic of China (PRC) maintains a robust capability consisting of ballistic missiles with a range to reach as far as Guam, 4000km (about the width of the United States) away. The PRC A2/AD threat rings extend over the South China Sea and several U.S. partners and allies’ territories, including Japan, The Philippines, and Thailand.

Our current capabilities in Southeast Asia need more synergy with emerging technologies like advanced manufacturing (AM), which can be a solution to rapid logistics and specialized operations for partner and allied forces. AM is a pioneering technology platform that includes portable, reliable, and scalable machinery of varying sizes, from desktop-friendly to entire shipping containers. This technology enables on-demand creation, development, and manufacturing of custom parts, tools, and weapons using materials like aluminum, copper, steel, and plastics to meet a wide range of requirements. Addressing the gap by leveraging on-demand manufacturing technology and enhancing collective capabilities will provide greater flexibility to create a robust logistical network to meet evolving needs. To achieve this, it’s crucial that we all work together, educating leaders, securing resources, and demonstrating proof-of-concept through exercises like Cobra Gold. Implementing the feedback collected through exercises can serve as a measurement of success, with implications for long-term viability in the region.

Background on Cobra Gold and the Pacific Exchange Program

Our participation in the inaugural Pacific Exchange Program (PEP), sponsored by the USA 1st Corps, provided a unique opportunity to assess challenges and opportunities around the Indo-Pacific logistics challenge. PEP is an initiative for active-duty service members pursuing accelerated education to observe and prepare the publication of unique topics ranging from security support initiatives to emerging technology supplementing contested logistics. We immersed ourselves in the USA 1st Corps and observed the 43rd Annual Cobra Gold exercise based in Thailand. As a multinational exercise, with partners and allied nations from Thailand, Japan, Singapore, Indonesia, Malaysia, and South Korea, Cobra Gold is also a joint service exercise where all U.S. Armed Forces are represented. As one of the longest-running international exercises within the Indo-Pacific Theater, it allows for further cooperation and partnering with foreign militaries. Our observations and engagements with Cobra Gold participants extend the visibility of task-organizing objectives for integrated assurance in the Pacific, proactively aligning joint and multinational responses to a dynamic infrastructure.

The Baseline of Conventional Logistics

Logistics in Thailand pose a myriad of technical, diplomatic, and legal challenges – all of which must be overcome to enable regional operations. For instance, the lack of a Status of Forces Agreement (SOFA) means that U.S. personnel are subject to Thai jurisdiction and can be prosecuted through the Thai legal system or any law violations. This lack of legal protection makes relying on U.S. personnel to perform most logistical movements on the ground in Thailand impractical. Additionally, every item entering the country from the U.S. must pass through customs inspections and wait for a Thai vendor to move items to the designated location. This logistical process, which requires local vendors, encompasses more than 40 potential options of varying reliability based on availability, which can be critical when time is of the essence. While utilizing local vendors is a viable alternative, it also means increased coordination, which could lead to a longer acquisition timeline. The reduced efficiency in delivery and lower mission effectiveness while awaiting essential equipment forces can negatively impact U.S. and partner forces’ training requirements. First Corps exercise planners conveyed that a SOFA could provide more flexibility to participate directly in internal logistical movements through vehicles and other transports.

Assessment of the Challenges

Conventional logistics within the Pacific will require exploring and implementing innovative ways to provide capabilities throughout the region. The current logistical structure heavily relies upon the status of functioning supply chains. If these become contested or shut off, U.S. and partner forces will find themselves significantly inefficient and incapable of sustained operations. The greatest obstacle facing task prioritization of AM within an SOF footprint in the region is one of a conventional methodology.

The more significant assessment is that much of the infrastructure cannot support future technologies. For example, at the Thai Special Warfare School, leaders in our U.S. Army Special Operations Force retention element highlighted the technological advancements needed to enhance their mission capabilities. In Thailand, alternative energy, such as solar power, should be pursued to overcome the conventionality required to elevate and support digitized and deployable AM capabilities.

Unfortunately, the region’s landscape has resulted in competing interests on what is needed and how we should train our partner forces. Implementing AM to sustain and replenish a partnered campaign cannot mirror the last 60 years of US presence, which has been considered episodic, reactionary, and counterintuitive. The challenges of implementing advanced manufacturing in the Indo-Pacific region include the need for significant infrastructure upgrades, the development of local manufacturing capabilities, and the establishment of international standards for AM technologies. Overcoming these challenges will require a collaborative and innovative approach and a clear understanding of the region’s unique logistical and operational requirements.

Partnered Advanced Manufacturing as a Way Forward

Empowering our Thai partners with mobile, containerized advanced manufacturing capabilities opens up possibilities. It allows them to generate purpose-built solutions for vehicle part development, components, and ISR platforms, revolutionizing how we approach logistics in the Indo-Pacific. After synchronizing with 1st Corps leadership, a consistent message remained: We must all give ourselves over to thought, or, more precisely, 1st Corps members and observers must be willing to think outside conventional mindsets to improve success. Following this guidance, we identified that a digital and deployable manufacturing hub could reduce logistical constraints while building upon U.S. and Thai capabilities. The benefits of this approach are immense, including increased operational flexibility, reduced reliance on external supply chains, and the ability to respond rapidly to changing operational requirements. Focusing on containerization allows U.S. and Thai forces the flexibility to place equipment anywhere, whether in the jungle, on a dock, or on an airfield. Purposefully, this increases equipment configurations to meet the requirements for optimal operations. If additional containers are required to manufacture en mass, the capacity exists to meet that demand.

Conversely, if a more modest, discrete placement is preferred, that option also exists and can be expanded at a future time. Containerization also protects equipment from the elements and provides a rapid relocation capability via air or ground transport. We met with different U.S. organizations and members throughout Thailand; there was a discussion with the innovation SNCO for a select U.S. Army unit on the current use of AM techniques to develop deliberate drone solutions for their applications. This drone platform was developed entirely for advanced manufacturing capabilities, and it saw success in additional units adopting the platform along with the development method. While plans were made to apply this technology for Cobra Gold 2024, it was not utilized in this iteration of the exercise, not because of usefulness, but because of limitations on how funds could be spent locally for the necessary components to assemble the drones.

Conclusion

The distances of the Indo-Pacific Theater are vast, and when coupled with the threat of A2/AD capabilities, the U.S. military faces a critical logistical challenge. Reliance on traditional pre-existing infrastructure to support long supply chains creates risk for disruption, leaving forces vulnerable. AM is a solution that brings game-changing potential and requires embracing emerging technology. We can establish an increasingly agile and adaptable logistical network by deploying mobile, containerized AM with our allies and partners. AM technology empowers partner nations to manufacture equipment and essential parts on demand, reducing reliance on external vendors and lengthy supply chains. Overcoming challenges like funding restrictions, infrastructure limitations, and conventional mindsets is critical for success. Cobra Gold and exercises like it provide a valuable platform for testing and refining these concepts. By adopting innovative solutions and working together to implement AM, the U.S. and its allies and partners can develop a more resilient and robust logistical network, further strengthening collaboration and regional security.

About the Authors: Senior Master Sergeant Gessica E. Lillich is a graduate student attending the Naval Postgraduate School specializing in Irregular Warfare through the Department of Defense Analysis and serves as the Senior Enlisted Leader for the Air Force Element of NPS, advising and overseeing professional development for 168 students. Sergeant Lillich has a diverse background, including being a Security Forces response team leader and MQ-9 Reaper Sensor Operator, accumulating over 2,000 combat and combat support flight hours in direct support of forces advancing national interests across CENTCOM areas of responsibility.

Technical Sergeant Jorge O. Brooks is a graduate student attending the Naval Postgraduate School, specializing in Applied Design for Innovation through the Department of Defense Analysis. Sergeant Brooks is a Special Missions Aviator who has deployed worldwide, accumulating over 4,000 flight hours across the AC-130H Spectre and C-146A Wolfhound aircraft in combat and combat support missions throughout AFRICOM, CENTCOM, INDOPACOM, and SOUTHCOM.

This article/publication is for the information, interest, and enjoyment of our readers. Views and opinions expressed are of the author or source of material and do not necessarily reflect opinions, views, or endorsements of the Air Commando Association. Material in the Air Commando Journal (ACJ) may be reproduced provided the source is credited. Air Commando Journal is not sponsored by DoD, USAF, or AFSOC.

Author: Paul Fremsted, MSgt, USAF (Retired)

During the planning of what was to become Operation Eagle Claw—the 24 April 1980 mission to rescue American hostages in Tehran Iran—a portion of the former Air Rescue and Recovery Service (ARRS) became involved. ARRS was headquartered at Scott AFB IL along side its parent command, Military Airlift Command (MAC, now Air Mobility Command). In 1978 the U.S. State Department asked for assistance in the recovery of deceased American citizens following the infamous Jonestown massacre in Guyana. ARRS relied on its HH-53B/C Super Jolly Green helicopters, which were used in Southeast Asia for combat rescue, infiltration, and extraction of friendly forces and casualties, for the operation. In May 1975, many of the same big Sikorsky helicopters supported our Marines during the SS Mayaguez incident in the Gulf of Siam at the end of the war. At the same time, the Rescue Service was working with the Air Force Systems Command at Wright-Patterson AFB OH to modify a handful of the HH-53s with equipment to allow the aircrews to operate at night and in adverse weather.

During the war in Southeast Asia courageous Airmen flew numerous dangerous combat rescue missions and suffered a fair amount of loses to enemy ground forces. The planners and crews believed they could mitigate some of the threat, if they could operate at night, but the navigation systems on the HH-53s were not precise enough to get the rescue crews to where the survivor was on the ground. Consequently, a combat mission need statement was developed and forwarded up the chain of command to justify modifying and upgrading the helicopters to be able to operate at night and adverse weather. The requirement was validated, and approved. The post-Vietnam DOD budget was shrinking, so in order to reduce the cost and get the program moving several navigation systems were borrowed from other active airframes. A moving map display was used from the A-7 attack aircraft and a low-level terrain following radar was sourced from from the F-111. These systems were integrated through an off-the-shelf mission computer with an early Forward Looking Infrared (FLIR) system, an upgraded Inertial Navigation System, and other avionic upgrades, allowing the helicopter to get within a radius of 60 feet of the survivor.

The program managers at ARRS determined that the best place to test, evaluate, and train crews on the system was with the 1550th Aircrew Training & Test Wing (ATTW), initially at Hill AFB UT and moved to Kirtland AFB in Albuquerque NM in March 1976. The 1550th was responsible for the training of all Air Force helicopters (UH-1P/N, HH-3E and C/HH-53B/C), HC-130P/N rescue air fueling crew training, and the Air Force Pararescue School. Kirtland AFB shared the runways with the Albuquerque International Airport and the area was challenging because of the “mile-high” altitude above sea-level, but it was excellent for aircrew training because of the good weather and a balance of flat areas, rolling hills, cliffs, and mountains. The environment was also great for testing the newly integrated terrain-following/avoidance radar and other systems installed on the newly designated HH-53H Pave Low.

In the summer of 1979, Anastasia Somoza, the president of Nicaragua, was being driven from power and the American Embassy requested a deployment of rescue forces in the event a noncombatant evacuation order (NEO) was issued. The 39th Air Rescue and Recovery Wing, at Eglin AFB in northwest Florida was the closest operational unit and deployed several HH-53C’s to a U.S. Navy helicopter support carrier. Air refueling HC-130s and airlift C-130s were also deployed to Howard AB, Panama to support a possible NEO. The State Department and U.S. Embassy negotiated with the Rebel Junta and agreed that once the civilian airfield in Managua was closed down to commercial or contracted airlift, embassy employees and other U.S. citizens wishing to leave the country would be allowed to depart via the Montelimar Airport. As a result, after all the planning, the HH-53Cs were not needed. There was a second potential NEO in the same region in 1981 and the plans from Nicaragua were dusted off, studied, and updated.

From this time until the spring of 1980, the HH-53H office at the 1550th ATTW was growing and hard at work putting together training scenarios in anticipation of having the first Pave Low class come through the school. We created scenarios supporting various theater command areas of responsibility, and we used the local southwest area as fictional countries in the Pacific, Atlantic, Europe, Central and South America. The scenarios would be basically the same—retrieving downed airmen.

When the HH-53H Pave Low was conceived and designed, it was to be a combat rescue platform, so we assumed the aircraft’s mission was going to primarily support the European command in any conflict with the Soviet bloc countries. We were only getting nine aircraft and to split the force in more than one location was not considered logistically practical and support to NATO was the order of the day. That oder was to have a force available, specifically outfitted to fly at 100 feet off the deck in adverse, mountainous terrain, day or night, in order to recover downed Airmen in the event of hostilities in the European theater.

Early in 1980, five Airmen at the 1550th were brought into the peripheral planning for Operation Eagle Claw; these were the wing commander, his vice-wing commander, the deputy commander for operations, the chief tactics officer, and the intelligence NCO in the Pave Low office. Although we were never fully briefed on all the details of the mission (until we were packed and ready to go to support it), we were aware that something was brewing and we were going to have a part in it. At first there was some information flow, but then it just stopped.

At this time, the MAC Inspector General determined the 1550th ATTW was due an Operational Readiness Inspection (ORI).The IG had no idea what was being planned for the small Pave Low group and consequently went ahead with the inspection. While the inspection was underway, the Chairman, of the Joint Chiefs of staff through HQ MAC formally tasked the 1550th ATTW commander to send our three fully modified HH-53H Pave Lows to Dover AFB in Delaware and await further tasking. Soon after, on 23 April, two C-5A Galaxys landed in Albuquerque to pick up our helicopters. The Pave Low modified HH-53Hs had never been loaded on the C-5 and although we had the basic H-53 load plans, there was some concern that the helicopters would not fit the same due to the additional avionic modifications on the nose and antennae on the belly. These concerns were allayed, but it still took the maintainers the better part of 12 hours to get them loaded because main transmissions, rotor blades, external fuel tanks all had to be removed. Finally, the two C-5s, loaded the three helicopters, aircrews, maintenance team, and equipment departed Albuquerque on the 24th. No one was brought into the planning phase and none of the maintenance people were briefed. As far as they were concerned the movement was part of the inspection. We landed at Dover late in the evening and I was holding the package of maps, photos and other items higher headquarters thought we needed to accomplish the mission. During breakfast on the 25th we learned of the he aborted rescue attempt in the Iranian desert. Within 24 hours, we were back in Albuquerque and the helicopters were offloaded and put back together for training.

Our mission for the operation was going to be the rescue force staged at Manzariyeh, Iran where the Marines flying the RH-53Ds were going to bring the hostages and rescue force for movement to Egypt and eventually back to the U.S. Three HH-53H Pave Lows were added to the Eagle Claw plan very late in the process because the planners wanted to ensure two were available, but the delivery of the third modified HH-53H from Pensacola to Kirtland was delayed. Another wrinkle in the plan was the fact our Air Force HH-53Hs needed to be delivered to a location where the maintenance team could reassemble the birds, test them, and then fly them to Manzariyeh airfield, likely needing inflight refueling. This was all overcome by events, but, when tasked, we deployed to Dover AFB with all three HH-53Hs.

By the time we got back to Kirtland there was a tremendous amount of “Monday Morning Quarterbacking” as to why the Pave Lows were not considered for the mission versus the Navy RH-53Ds. First, they (Paves Lows) were not available when the planning started and HH-53Hs were not shipboard compatible (no folding rotor head). However, there were numerous Vietnam era HH-53C combat rescue and special operations pilots and crews available. I think that due to the amount of compartmentalization and concern for operational security (OPSEC), those with the knowledge just weren’t tapped. However, that wouldn’t last long.

With the failure of Desert One, President Carter created the Holloway Commission, made up of active and retired flag officers, to find out what went wrong with the plan and how to prevent another disaster from happening. The official unclassified findings concluded that too many restrictions in the name of secrecy were put on the planners, thus limiting them from actively researching other means of information than what was gathered by the Joint Task Force (JTF 1-79) staff. Another finding suggested that a Special Forces Command with the cooperation of all the services, be created to train, equip, plan, and execute operations as one force, instead of four separate entities coming together for a one time show of force. The thinking was obvious, train as you intend to fight (jointly), without parent service interference. Although the U.S. Special Operations Command was still 7 years from fruition, this is where the initial groundwork began. In the fall/winter of 1980 the Joint Special Operations Command (JSOC) was established at Fort Bragg, NC. All the services were instructed to be represented and staff the command accordingly.

However, months before the stand-up of JSOC, and just a few days after the disaster in the Iranian desert, President Carter directed his Secretary of Defense and Chairman of the Joint Chiefs to begin planning another operation to rescue the American hostages in Tehran—the plan was code named Honey Badger. Major General Vaught, commander of the Eagle Claw operation, was asked to lead the second effort and Maj Gen Dick Secord, an Air Force officer steeped in the special operations business, was made his deputy.

One of the first orders of business was to move the sophisticated combat rescue HH-53H Pave Low helicopters from Kirtland to Hurlburt Field, FL, home of Tactical Air Command’s 1st Special Operations Wing. The wing at the time had only three flying squadrons, the 8th SOS (MC-130E Combat Talons, primary transport for the troops involved in Desert One), the 16th SOS (the AC-130H Spectre gunships that were scheduled to provide close air support for the rescue force in Tehran), and the 20th SOS, which flew UH-1N twin-engined Huey helicopters and CH-3E transport helicopters similar to the HH-3E Jolly Greens. At Duke Field, adjacent to Eglin AFB, the 919th Special Operation Squadron, an Air Force Reserve unit flew the older AC-130A model gunships. There was a deep sense of failure on the base and the loss of five local Airmen was felt by all. So to describe the scene at Hurlburt Field with the arrival of the rescue HH-53H Pave Lows as anything but confusing would be an understatement.

In 1980 Hurlburt Field’s base population was relatively small compared to today and all the aircrews knew one another. Additionally, Hurlburt Field was administered by Tactical Air Command (TAC). To reiterate, the HH-53H Pave Lows were assigned to the 1550th ATTW under MAC and were being modified for the combat rescue forces. The 20th SOS already had two different types of helicopter weapon systems assigned, when the HH-53Hs were transferred, but the aircrews qualified to fly them were still assigned to MAC as air rescue crews; none of the Pave Low aircrews or support personnel had been reassigned to TAC, yet. Consequently, the chain of command was not clearly defined and ARRS, having just lost the multi-million dollar Pave Low program, was not quite ready to lose all their experienced officers and NCOs, at the same time. Many had Vietnam experience with some of the same aircraft they were flying at the time, so a number of careers with ARRS/MAC were in jeopardy. Further, TAC was beginning to retire the aging F-4Es around the world and replacing them with F-15s and F-16s, and to find an avionics specialist, or an intelligence specialist with specific training in helicopter maintenance or low-level threat scenarios, was next to impossible. Nobody had planned these type missions since the war in Southeast Asia ended 5 years earlier.

Our first deployment in support of Honey Badger was to the southwest U.S. and a number of decisions needed to be made. Our air commander, a previous 20th SOS commander was directed to find out which personnel would stay with the Pave Lows in TAC and who wouldn’t. The easiest method of accomplishing this task was exactly what was done. In the operations area, three pieces of paper were put on the operations desk. It was mandatory for all personnel to come by the operations area at least once a day, to check in. Communication to our homes was very restricted and only allowed at the operations desk. The first paper was a hand-written note: If you won’t volunteer for assignment to Hurlburt Field, sign below. The second paper: If you are not a volunteer, but will take the assignment, sign below. Finally the third: If you volunteer for the assignment, sign below. It was as easy as that. Those who did not want reassignment remained on temporary duty until their positions were filled and there were enough personnel in the training pipeline to staff the remaining Pave Low billets.

While the aircrews were busy building their proficiency with the new Pave Low systems, we also had HH-53Cs from the 1550th, the 41st ARRS at McClellan AFB, and the 39th ARRS from Eglin flying with us, for a total of 16 H-53s. And while there were a lot of administrative issues to take care of between the MAJCOMs, the focus for all was to train for this next mission into Iran. The MC-130E Combat Talons and the AC-130H Spectres were also busy honing their skills and preparing to go back and rescue the American hostages.

At about the same time, a provisional Army helicopter unit, Task Force 158, was being organized at Ft Campbell KY. (Over the years the unit became officially known as the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment). Initially, the manpower and equipment was taken out of hide from the 101st Aviation Division and amazingly, not until 45 days into the flying training specifically for the rescue of the Iranian hostages did the Air Force become aware this unit was doing their own training with the 1st and 2nd Battalions of the 75th Ranger Regiment. Elements of two Ranger Battalions were tasked to secure and hold the Iranian airfields as necessary to ensure the successful transload of the hostages to the aircraft that would fly them back to the States.

So, while all this new training was going on to incorporate the Pave Low helicopters into the plan, career officers and enlisted had to decide which way to go in regards to their assignment and careers. At about the same time Headquarters TAC decided that the 1st SOW needed new blood and brought back a previous squadron commander who was promoted to colonel to be the 1st SOW deputy commander for operations. The 20th SOS also got a new commander with H-53 helicopter experience. He came for Bergstrom AFB, TX and brought along one of his captains who was the only AF helicopter pilot to be on the Eagle Claw raid in April. Additionally, several of the Marine pilots from the first effort were available to us and we enjoyed a wealth of their information and planning they had accomplished for Desert One. There was a new sense of urgency and need that came with this assignment.
We were deployed from May until July 18th, and spent time in some of the most undesirable places in the western U.S.,and by the time we packed it up and headed for home the sense of what we could do in this mission kept us going, despite the living conditions.

The unit departed our operating location on the morning of 19 July, expecting to be at Hurlburt that night. Just outside Monticello, UT one of the HH-53s lost control and crashed. There were 10 people on board and sadly one of our maintenance Airman was killed on impact. The other nine people were able to get out of the wreckage, although the two pilots had severe back injuries and other broken bones. When the crash happened, all other aircraft returned to the accident area to assist and provide support for the injured. I was on the #2 aircraft of the lead element and for some reason we didn’t have any inter-plane communications, so when the #1 aircraft started a turn back, we knew something had happened. As we came around, we could see an enormous black stream of smoke rising from the ground and we knew it wasn’t going to be good news. Fate sometimes has a way of over-riding Murphy when you need help. The Monticello Emergency Medical Unit just happened to be holding a three-county conference on that very day and we had more ambulances respond to the accident than we had helicopters at the scene. It is very probable we could have lost more personnel if the EMS units had not been there to assist with the recovery.

The crash and injuries put another pall over the training and the obvious questions became evident again—is this a good idea?; are these the right aircraft?; are we training to hard? The intensity and the type of training was at an uncommon level and very stressful. Only a very few people were brought into the complete planning phase, primarily due to those three pieces of paper that were laid out in the operations office in Utah. No one really knew who was going to do what.

Following the crash and after the injured were cared for, we got back onto the helicopters and continued towards Kirtland AFB, where we decided to stay the night. Having started at Kirtland it was nice to be home, even though it was for only one night. Individuals from the other squadrons were put up in billeting and we mustered for an early morning departure for Hurlburt. We had 14 HH-53s when we left Albuquerque but we landed at Hurlburt Field with just 3. We had aborts all over the southwest and southern states. Wingmen went with their flight lead and the final emergency landing was in Mississippi on a sandbar in the middle of “Ole Big Muddy”. Most of the aborts were caused by a BIM (blade inspection method) caution light. The BIM gave the aircrew an indication that there might be a crack in a main rotor blade spar, which could lead to a catastrophic crash. This is the same situation that caused one of the helicopters on the Desert One raid to abort. The BIM, and later IBIS (inflight blade inspection system) caution lights, would cause a lot of discussion between the Air Force, Sikorsky (manufacturer of the H-53s) and special operations forces in the future.

Regarding the crash, the investigation determined that fuel was not transferring from the 650 gallon auxiliary fuel tanks into the main system properly and consequently, there was a severe fuel imbalance causing the pilot to lose control and crashed. It was truly a miracle that we lost only one soul—by the way the aircraft looked when we landed nearby, I was amazed anyone survived.

When we got back to Hurlburt Field there were a lot of changes on the horizon. The people who decided to stay with the Pave Low program were told to report back to their home units as soon as the next dress rehearsal was over and process out. We were told that leave would not be authorized and that we would not lose any leave days at the end of the fiscal year, but we did. The full-up rehearsal was replanned for the local area around Hurlburt Field because the region where we planned to practice was inundated by heavy rains and all our target areas were under water. When the training phase was complete, I went back to Kirtland, processed out, gathered the family, and set off to Florida.

After I got settled into Fort Walton Beach, the mission training resumed as if we never took a break. More and more training was being done with the Army’s TF-158 flying in different formations and scenarios learning to work as one unit, not separately. More and more training was centered on basically the same scenario, using slightly different assets. While the training was increased, several of the officers from Kirtland who stayed on trained the newer Pave Low pilots and got them up to speed concurrently. We also began to get gunners in from the munitions career field so with the two pilots and two flight engineers, the mission crew of the Pave Low became six. We also started flying close formations using night vision goggles (NVGs) and it got your attention at times. The NVGs were pretty heavy back then, so the pilots attached extra strength rubber bands or surgical tubing to the top of the goggles and to the upper panel in the cockpit and this helped keep the full weight of the NVGs off their necks. This seemed to work out pretty well as long as the flight engineer and the other pilot were off the goggles for safety reasons. We went out to the desert one more time during the fall and when we returned from this training Generals Vaught and Secord declared we were ready for the mission and reported back to the Pentagon that the special operation task force was standing by and ready to depart within 24 hours.

In November, the American people voted Ronald Reagan in as President and we received word from the incoming administration to put all further training (specifically for the hostages) on hold and to not execute the plan until after the inauguration. From late November until the inauguration on 20 January 1981, we continued to receive and analyze intelligence on the whereabouts of the hostages. We had strong indications that the hostages had been separated and were not all in the embassy area. With this new information, the absolute assurance that we could have rescued all the hostages in one effort became increasingly unrealistic.

By the time President Reagan was sworn in as the 40th President of the United States, an aircraft with all the embassy personnel on board was taking off from Tehran carrying them to freedom. Within 24 hours we were ordered to stand down the JTF and return to our normal duty locations.

This was the end of the Honey Badger period, but it was the beginning of a new era for the home of Air Force Special Operations at Hurlburt Field, FL. From the lessons learned during this training period (Pave Lows, Combat Talons, and Spectres), much of the future of the 1st SOW was molded from a typical hostage mission scenario. The exactness and precision of this training and planning bore fruit with the entire planning and execution of Operation Urgent Fury; accomplished in less than a week. Only from the framework of Honey Badger could the past, present, and hopefully the future of AFSOC be so expertly crafted. Operation Just Cause in Panama 1989 is a testament to the hard work throughout the 80’s. The MH-53J Pave Lows led the opening rounds of Operation Desert Storm, commonly called “The Kick-Off”, by doing what they had trained to do so much in the past—-be the path finders and be precise in leading others to the battle, successfully. The MH-53J/M Pave Lows and crews continued their distinguished service for nearly two decades after Desert Storm until all aircraft were retired from the Air Force by September 2008.

About the Author:

MSgt Paul Fremsted served as an active duty intelligence specialist as an Airman and government employee for 48 years. In his early career he supported the 5th Special Forces team in Vietnam and monitored activity at North Vietnamese POW camps prior to the famous Son Tay raid. He continued his career providing intelligence analysis and planning for Operation Urgent Fury in Grenada, for the HH-53H Pave Low combat rescue/special operations program, and augmented the 21st SOS for mission planning early in Operation Desert Storm, Upon retirement from active duty, he spent more than 20 years working as a government employee, providing signature management, operations security, and force protection plans training for our combat aviators. Paul Fremstad was inducted into the Air Commando Hall of Fame, Class of 2023.

[Editor’s note: For more information about Honey Badger see Roland Guidry’s article in Air Commando Journal Vol 3-4 online.]

RTAF B-Team at Wattay Airport, Vientiane, Laos 1966 (Photo courtesy of Jerry Klingaman.)

Author: Dan Jackson, Lt Col, USAF

Most Air Commandos recognize the motto “Any Time, Any Place,” from the original 1st Air Commando Group in World War II. I became very familiar with it during my service in the 1st Special Operations Wing from 2011 to 2018. However, I recently encountered the phrase at an unexpected time and in an unexpected place. In February 2024, I traveled to Bangkok, Thailand, to interview Thai veterans of the secret war in Laos. To my surprise, I noticed that three of

the four wore a red, white, and blue shield on their jackets emblazoned with the words, “Any Time, Any Place,” in English—the very same emblem I had worn during my time in the 1st Special Operations Wing.

I interviewed Captain Sarisporn Bhibalkul (กัปตัน สฤษฎิ์พร ภิบาลกุล), Flight Lieutenant Weera Chimmuang (ร.อ.วีระ ฉิมม่วง), Squadron Leader Surapol Premsmith (น.ต.สุรพล เปรมสมิทธ์), and Mr. Thachnattaphong “Iron City” Thipsaenklang (นาย ธัชณัฐพงษ์ ทิพย์แสนกลาง). These four veterans volunteered to fight in the secret war in Laos, where thousands of Thai airmen and soldiers covertly served from 1961 to 1974 under the mysterious Headquarters 333. The Royal Thai Government believed that fighting communism abroad would avert a full-scale war at home and thus actively but secretly participated in the conflict.

The First Volunteers

In 1961, Sarisporn, a twenty-nine-year-old Royal Thai Air Force flight sergeant, delivered an AT-6 Texan attack plane to Laos. A Soviet airlift supplying the Neutralists and Communists in a three-way civil war led President Dwight Eisenhower and Thai Prime Minister Sarit Thanarat to fear that the country would soon fall to communism. Acting on the recommendation of the commander-in-chief of US Pacific Command, Thailand supplied eight AT-6 attack planes to support the Rightist government in Vientiane.

When Sarisporn volunteered for the covert mission, he signed an undated letter of resignation, enabling the Thai air force to disavow him in the event of death or capture. He also received a Lao identification card and nom de guerre—practices that would become standard for all subsequent volunteers. Upon arriving in Vientiane, a suspicious soldier stopped him and demanded his identification. Nervous that his cover might be blown, Sarisporn handed over the card. After scrutinizing it closely, the soldier appeared satisfied. “Carry on,” he instructed.

The Lao air force lacked enough qualified pilots to operate its new AT-6s, prompting the deployment of eight additional Thai volunteers. These men flew combat missions in Laos from March 1961 until June 1962, when the Geneva Agreement brought a tentative end to the fighting. One Thai pilot died in a midair collision, while another narrowly survived being shot down by communist antiaircraft fire.

Shortly after his mission, Sarisporn left the air force to fly for civilian contractors such as Bird & Sons, Continental Air Services, and Air America, lured by a salary eight times higher than his military pay. Over the next eight years, he flew a variety of fixed- and rotary-wing aircraft in Laos before transitioning to a career as a commercial airline pilot.

Project WATER PUMP and the Fireflies

In November 1963, Colonel Robert Tyrrell, the new air attaché in Vientiane and a World War II veteran of the original 1st Air Commando Group, proposed deploying a special air warfare detachment to Udorn Royal Thai Air Force Base to build the capability and capacity of the Royal Lao Air Force. In March 1964, thirty-eight Air Commandos, led by Major Drexel B. “Barney” Cochran, established Detachment 6, 1st Air Commando Wing, with four North American AT-28D Nomads. This training mission became known as Project WATER PUMP.

The arrival of the Air Commandos coincided with the resumption of open warfare in Laos. In May, Ambassador Leonard Unger transferred the detachment’s four AT-28s to the Lao air force and requested additional reinforcements from South Vietnam. By September, thirty-six AT-28s were on hand, with fifteen more scheduled for delivery in 1965. However, the Lao air force had only nineteen pilots qualified to fly them. To fill the gap, Thailand sent twenty volunteer pilots in May 1964 under Project FIREFLY. Each volunteer signed on for a six-month, one-hundred-mission tour, after which he would receive a $250 bonus and return to regular duty in the Royal Thai Air Force.

The US Department of Defense funded Project FIREFLY, with the CIA acting as the conduit, covertly channeling funds from Washington, DC, though its Vientiane Station to Headquarters 333. In Laos, the volunteers reported to the American commander of the Air Operations Center (AOC) at Vientiane’s Wattay Airport, a position held by legendary Air Commandos like Billie Keeler and Jerry Klingaman.

The first ten Fireflies arrived at WATER PUMP for an expedited combat-qualification course and flew their first combat mission in Laos on June 1. Subsequent groups underwent three months of combat readiness training at WATER PUMP, receiving a graduation certificate and US Air Force pilot wings upon completion.

Initially, the Royal Thai Air Force prohibited married men from volunteering, a policy that excluded Weera Chimmuang. When the policy changed, he volunteered immediately but found himself retained as an instructor at WATER PUMP because of his extensive experience in the AT-28. He finally joined the fifth cohort of Fireflies and flew his first combat mission in Laos on July 21, 1966.

High Risks, Hard Lessons

On his first combat mission, Weera’s flight attacked an underwater bridge near the Plain of Jars. He dropped four 250-pound general-purpose bombs and fired a volley of 2.75-inch rockets on his first pass. The flight leader then led them in for a second pass, strafing enemy troops with their .50-caliber machine guns. Enemy small-arms fire struck Weera’s engine. Streaming white smoke, he made it only five miles from the target before the engine quit, forcing him to bail out.

Every Firefly pilot underwent survival and evasion training at WATER PUMP and carried a survival kit prepared by an American life support technician. Using the pen flare gun in his kit, Weera signaled his flight and then hid while awaiting rescue from a US Air Force CH-3C or HH-3E “Jolly Green Giant” helicopter. “My heart dropped when it flew past me without picking me up,” he recalled. “I looked left and right, wondering why he didn’t get me.”

The crew of the helicopter that overflew Weera had spotted enemy troops in the area and withdrew to await armed escorts. Weera waited anxiously for another ten or twenty minutes before a sudden burst of machine gun fire startled him. “Bullets hit the ground all around me,” he vividly recounted. “I looked up at the sky and saw two Skyraiders diving, firing guns and rockets all around me.” These were US Air Force A-1Es from the 602nd Air Commando Squadron, call sign “Sandy.”

While two Skyraiders held the enemy at bay, two more rendezvoused with the helicopter to cover its approach. This time, the helicopter hovered directly over Weera and recovered him using a jungle penetrator. Straddling one of the paddles, Weera held on tightly. “The Jolly Green immediately pulled away and climbed even though I was still hanging in the hoist,” he reported. They reeled him in over a blur of jungle, climbing higher and higher as they quickly departed enemy territory.

Weera enjoyed a ten-day leave with his wife in Thailand before returning to combat. On his second mission, his engine took another hit. Clawing frantically for altitude, he thought, “Me again?!” Then he noticed his propeller speed holding steady at 1,900 rpm—a bullet had struck the propeller governor linkage, but the governor itself still functioned. He returned safely to Vientiane. “I was lucky,” he reflected.

In addition to small-arms fire, the Fireflies faced an increasing number of 37- and 57-millimeter antiaircraft guns. An AT-28 would disintegrate if it took a direct hit from one of these, while shrapnel from an exploding flak cloud could severely damage any aircraft within its destructive radius. “Even if there was an explosion nearby, your plane would still shake,” Weera explained. Surapol Premsmith learned that when facing heavy antiaircraft fire, he had to expend all his ordnance in a single pass and then depart the area low and fast. “That’s how I survived two hundred missions,” he revealed.

The End of Project FIREFLY

Between 1964 and 1970, 217 Thai pilots volunteered for Project FIREFLY, with twenty-four returning for a second tour, including both Weera and Surapol. The Fireflies suffered a loss rate exceeding 10 percent, with eleven pilots killed and three captured in combat, and another eight killed in accidents.

Project FIREFLY held the line as the Royal Lao Air Force gradually expanded its capability and capacity. In 1968, the Fireflies flew more than half of the Lao air force’s combat sorties. By June 1970, the Lao air force had fifty-two AT-28 pilots and twenty AC-47 pilots conducting nearly three thousand sorties per month. While the Fireflies’ contribution remained steady, their share of the total sorties declined from over 50 percent in 1968 to just 6 percent by 1970.

With the Royal Thai Air Force facing a pilot shortage of its own amid a growing domestic communist insurgency, Project FIREFLY concluded on October 27, 1970. The program had demonstrated Thailand’s reliability as an ally and provided its air force with valuable combat experience. By 1970, Firefly veterans served in every combat squadron of the Royal Thai Air Force, contributing their hard-won expertise to the nation’s counterinsurgency efforts.

After completing his second tour in Laos in March 1970, Weera became the tactical operations officer in Chiang Rai, Thailand. Each day, four AT-28s from Chiang Mai forward-staged to Chiang Rai for missions in the far north, primarily to escort resupply helicopters. As the tactical operations officer, Weera determined the tactics and selected the armament load for each mission. With two hundred combat missions in Laos, he had far more experience than most of the pilots and often led the missions himself. “Even when I was tired, I still flew all the time,” he recalled. “I enjoyed flying.”

WHITE HORSE and UNITY

The end of Project FIREFLY did not mark the end of Thai volunteers serving in Laos. Even as the Lao air force expanded, the war escalated, with an estimated sixty-seven thousand North Vietnamese regulars in the country by 1970, equipped with tanks, armored vehicles, and heavy artillery. To reinforce the Lao army and CIA-sponsored special guerrilla units, the United States funded the deployment of 17,808 Thai volunteer soldiers under Project UNITY, organized into twenty-seven infantry and three artillery battalions. The first battalion arrived in Laos on December 15, 1970. Additionally, from early 1972 until April 1974, nineteen volunteer airmen served in Laos under Project WHITE HORSE, operating two UH-1M helicopter gunships to escort Air America helicopters and ground convoys supplying the UNITY battalions.

The UNITY battalions relied on close air support to counter the superior firepower and numbers of North Vietnamese troops. A friendly fire incident in April 1971 prompted the CIA to hire English-speaking Thais as forward air guides for each battalion. Since 1969, American combat controllers at WATER PUMP had been training Lao and Hmong forward air guides, and they began training Thai personnel in 1971. Each of the 128 Thai graduates received a unique call sign.

Thachnattaphong “Nat” Thipsaenklang, call sign, “Iron City,” served a six-month tour with Battalion Commando 627 near Pakse, Laos. He credited his training at WATER PUMP with giving him the skills and mindset that would one day save his battalion commander’s life. During a long-range patrol in January 1973, Nat conducted a map study of the next day’s march, noting terrain that seemed ideal for an enemy ambush. He coordinated for a Raven forward air controller to be overhead and had the soldiers prepare a helicopter landing zone in case of casualties.

The next day, the ambush unfolded exactly as Nat had anticipated, and enemy rifle fire wounded his commanding officer. While lobbing grenades at the enemy, Nat worked with the Raven to call in close air support. The aerial firepower allowed them to break contact and evacuate his commander from the helicopter landing zone prepared the previous day.

The Legacy of the Unknown Warriors

The Thai government has never publicly acknowledged its role in the secret war. Lacking official recognition for their service and sacrifice, veterans formed the Unknown Warriors Association 333, wearing patches on their jackets featuring a colorful tiger’s head to symbolize their covert service. Firefly veterans also proudly wear the red, white, and blue shield of the 1st Air Commando Wing. This emblem, originally the insignia of their instructors at WATER PUMP and the AOC commanders who led and flew alongside them in combat, has become a symbol of their own identity—forged in the crucible of war and shaped by shared sacrifice with their American allies: “Any Time, Any Place.”

About the Author: Lieutenant Colonel Daniel Jackson served as a U-28 pilot and combat aviation advisor and is now a graduate student at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. He would like to thank Air Chief Marshal Sakpinit Promthep and the Thai secret war veterans for their indispensable help in writing this article.

Authors: As told by the Green Hornets and Ponies who flew the missions, risked their lives, and did what needed to be done in a very dangerous situation.

Editor’s Note: In 1980, Air Force special operations squadrons were assigned to Tactical Air Command which in 1992 was reorganized and became Air Combat Command.

Introduction

It was way too early on Friday morning, 21 November 1980, for someone to be pounding on the hotel room door. Maj Warren “Smokey” Hubbard from the 20th Special Operations Squadron (SOS) had just gotten to sleep after a night-vision-goggle (NVG) sortie on the Nellis AFB Test and Training Range, flown as part of Red Flag 81-1, and he was not happy about someone waking him up after a long night of flying. Capt Roger Poe, the squadron’s maintenance officer, was the guilty intruder, and Major Hubbard was not in the mood for what he thought was a practical joke. In rather colorful language he told Poe to go away so he could get some sleep. Captain Poe was on a mission, though, the MGM Grand Hotel and Casino on the Las Vegas Strip was on fire and local officials had called the Air Force for help. Lt Col Wayne Corder, the 1st Special Operations Wing (SOW) mission commander, told Poe and the squadron’s operations officer, Maj Don Nieto, to start waking up Green Hornet crews and maintainers and get them immediately back out to Nellis AFB to prepare their UH-1N helicopters for launch. “If you don’t believe me,” Poe yelled back at Hubbard, “look out your window.” What Hubbard and all the others saw that morning was a thick, black cloud of oily smoke rising from the hotel—what flight engineer Dan Jaramillo, from the 302nd SOS, described as a “mushroom-shaped cloud, like you see on those old atomic bomb films.” News accounts from the day said the plume of smoke rose 2,000 feet into the air.

The special operations team at Red Flag also included three CH-3E Jolly Green Giant helicopters from the 302nd SOS (Air Force Reserve) then based at Luke AFB, Arizona. Their call sign was “Pony,” a legacy from the Pony Express missions the squadron had flown during the Vietnam War. The 302nd SOS’s commander, Lt Col Bruce Wood, was also banging on doors to get his crews and maintainers back out to the flightline to prepare their aircraft to support the rescue effort. Sleepy crews and maintainers from both squadrons rolled out of bed, grabbed their gear, and jumped into the back of waiting pickup trucks.

Less than an hour after the call from the Nellis AFB command post, three UH-1N Hueys from the 20th SOS and three CH-3Es from the 302nd SOS were airborne and heading south towards the burning hotel. The special operations aircrews were about to do something they had never done before and had not trained for—evacuate panicked civilians from a burning skyscraper. But because they were SOF and trained to evaluate high-risk situations before putting their aircraft and crews in danger, the two squadrons of Air Commandos sized up the situation and developed an effective solution.

The Situation

The 20th SOS Green Hornets were the first flying unit in the Air Force authorized to fly with NVGs. Five UH-1N Huey helicopters, crews, and maintainers from the squadron had deployed to Nellis AFB, Nevada, to exercise their NVG capabilities during the Red Flag exercise, our Air Force’s most realistic air combat training program. Both the Green Hornets and the Ponies had flown Red Flag missions the day before, supporting US Army Rangers in a remote part Nellis AFB’s large desert and mountainous range.

In 1980, the original MGM Grand Hotel and Casino was located on the Las Vegas Strip, less than a mile from the current MGM Grand complex. Early that morning an electrical fire started in the kitchen of the 43-acre, super-luxury hotel, at the time known as the “Lady of the Strip.” Because the hotel did not have an automatic sprinkler system, the fire quickly spread to the first floor. Because the initial reports were of a kitchen fire, the response from Las Vegas fire, medical, police, and rescue units was delayed. Some hotel guests who were still gambling refused to leave the tables because of the “small kitchen fire,” and got upset when the dealers forced them to leave. The situation changed, though, once Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department pilot Sgt Harry Christopher, and his partner, Officer Tom Mildren, in their Hughes 500 helicopter (the military version is an OH-6) arrived and reported the true extent of the situation.

Police Sgt Christopher’s helicopter was the first aircraft on scene. When they arrived at the 26-story hotel, the dense black smoke made it hard to see and flames were quickly spreading from the lower two floors to the rest of the hotel. Oily smoke and toxic fumes from the burning plastics that were everywhere—wallpaper, furniture, and fixtures. The smoke and fumes were spreading upwards through stairwells, corridors, elevator shafts, and ventilation systems. People in their rooms were still asleep because there was also not an automatic fire alarm system. As the two police officers approached the inferno, the pilot told his partner that if hotel guests made it to the roof then his plan was to start loading them and taking them down to the parking lot.

Sidenote:

Bedlam ensued when the police helicopter first landed on the roof. Panicked people were pushing each other out of the way to get on the chopper—male, female, young, and old, it did not matter. People were in a frenzy and their fear caused them to scream, shove, claw, and fight each other for a place on the helicopter. Officer Mildren got out of the left seat to pull people off the overloaded helicopter. As Sgt Christopher took off with the first load, Officer Mildren stayed on the roof to organize the crowd into loads the small Hughes 500 could manage. Each time the police helicopter returned though, the organized loads gave way to chaos. The policeman had to again pull people off the helicopter and off each other. Eventually, two civilians came forward and helped Officer Mildren organize and control the crowd.

Soon, a Flight for Life air ambulance and two civilian sightseeing helicopters joined Sgt Christopher to aid the evacuation airlift from the hotel roof. After about 40 minutes of continuous shuttling of survivors off the roof, it was eerily empty. Everyone who could have made it up to the roof at that point had been evacuated to the parking lot below. On the upper floors, though, above the 9-story reach of fire department’s ladder trucks, there were still perhaps 1,000 people trapped in their rooms by the blinding smoke, scorching heat, and toxic fumes filling the corridors, stairwells, and air conditioning ducts. Sgt Christopher realized he was going to need professional help and called the Air Force to assist.

Downstairs, in the hotel, the Las Vegas fire department had finally arrived and firefighters were battling the blaze on the lower floors while emergency medical services treated those survivors who had gotten out. The Las Vegas Police department tried to control the gathering crowd of gawkers and the traffic flow. They also cleared a parking lot to set up a safe landing area for the helicopters. Unfortunately, one unlucky patrolman had left his cruiser in the middle of the parking area with the lights on, but no keys in the ignition. A city tow truck ended up dragging the unfortunate police car out of the way.

Help Arrives

The six special operations helicopters and three additional USAF UH-1Ns assigned to Detachment 1 of Nellis AFB’s 57th Tactical Fighter Wing, but based at Indian Springs Auxiliary Field, now Creech AFB, about 40 miles northwest of downtown Las Vegas, arrived to help with the rescue operation. The six Hueys went to the parking lot east of the hotel and the larger CH-3s landed in a large field to the south. Colonel Wood, piloting one of the CH-3s, Pony 3, stopped enroute to help two people trapped on the hotel roof escape. With just his right main landing gear touching down on the roof, and his nose and left main gear still flying, Pony 3’s flight engineers helped the survivors, one of them a very pregnant woman, climb on board. Pony 3 then joined the other two CH-3s in the field and delivered the survivors to the medical staff.

The Air Force crews joined the dozen other helicopters from civilian companies, federal agencies, and nearby local governments that had arrived to help. Sgt Christopher in his police helicopter became a combination traffic cop, air traffic controller, and mission commander. He kept strict control of the situation to make sure none of the well-meaning pilots trying to help “acted like John Wayne up there” and did not take it upon themselves to do whatever they wanted. Major Hubbard said it best, “I don’t think it would have gone any smoother if we had all sat together and had a three-hour briefing and planned it as an exercise.” In one conspicuous act of kindness, the owner of a local McDonald’s restaurant brought a trunk-full of hamburger and milkshakes to give to the emergency services teams struggling to get the situation under control.

Because the fire department’s ladders could not get higher than the ninth floor, the Hueys were pressed into service to carry firefighters, paramedics, rescue personnel, equipment, and supplies to roof so they could fight the fire from the top down and evacuate survivors from the rooms. One of the paramedics recalled finding an elderly woman on the 22nd floor who was having a heart attack. He carried her through the smoke-filled hall and up the stairs to the roof. There he started an IV and loaded her on the helicopter. He recalls that the scariest part of the operation was the helicopter flight because it felt like the rotor blades were only feet away from the building. Exhausted firefighters, paramedics, and survivors who made it to the roof were then ferried to the parking lot by the Hueys.

No one knew if the hotel’s roof was strong enough to take the Huey’s weight. Major Hubbard ordered the Green Hornets to stay “light on the skids” out of caution, supporting most of the helicopter’s weight with the spinning rotor blades and thus not testing the strength of the roof. The 20th SOS was credited with removing 36 people from the roof, 5 of whom were in critical condition.

Trapped people from the middle floors to the top floor were at their windows or out on their balconies waving towels or bed sheets to summon help. One person tied bedsheets together into a makeshift rope about 100 feet long. The pilots saw him throw it over the side of his balcony, but he changed his mind and did not try to climb down.

The 302nd SOS’s CH-3Es were equipped with hydraulic high-speed rescue hoists and so those aircraft were tasked with trying to get people off the balconies. The problem, though, was that the hotel roof had an 8-foot overhang that prevented the hoist cable from getting close to the balconies. For the hoist operation to work the Pony crews had to be creative. MSgt Bill Reynolds, one of the flight engineers (FE) on Capt Mike Martin’s Pony 2 crew had an idea. He would take one of the 15-foot cargo tie-down ropes with him as he was lowered on the forest penetrator and then throw the rope to survivors who would pull the FE on the hoist—special operations helicopters did not have pararescue specialists—across and onto the balcony. The FE would then dismount from the penetrator, load a survivor on, and signal the hovering helicopter to bring up the passenger. While the helicopter hovered partially over the roof, the FE would then swing the cable to create a pendulum effect and bring the dangling penetrator to the FE waiting on the balcony.

On Pony 2’s first rescue attempt, the second FE on the crew, MSgt Jim Connett, lowered his good friend, Bill Reynolds, to one of the balconies on the 26th floor where five people were anxiously waiting for help. The rope trick worked and Reynolds clambered over the balcony railing. One by one, Reynolds put the survivors onto the penetrator and Connett hoisted them up to the waiting helicopter. Once all five survivors were on board, Connett sent the cable down again, this time to retrieve his friend. As Reynolds was strapping himself onto the penetrator the slack in the cable suddenly and unexpectedly tightened and the FE’s legs were caught in the wrought-iron railing. Although hurt and badly bruised, Reynolds’ legs were not broken. He was, however, in no shape to continue riding the hoist but he could operate it for Connett. Capt Martin delivered the five grateful survivors to the parking lot and waiting paramedics, then Pony 3 headed back up to the roof.

For their second attempt, Connett switched places with Reynolds. As he tried to toss the cargo rope towards a lone woman on a balcony, she made a half-hearted effort to crab the rope. The FE was unsure of why she had not tried very hard to grab the “lifeline” until he realized she was worried about her skirt blowing up from the rotor wash. With all the confusion of the noise, downwash, and chaos of the moment it was rough trying to convince her to put aside her modesty and grab the proffered rope. On the second try she finally grabbed it but hung the rope over the balcony railing. Bill Reynolds realized what was happening and had the pilot move the aircraft so that the Connett could swing and grab the railing. Once on the balcony, he had a hard time convincing the woman to get onto the hoist. He eventually persuaded her to get on the penetrator and up she went. Meanwhile, two men were locked inside the room. Connett broke the sliding-glass door and helped the first one out and onto the penetrator. As that survivor was going up to the helicopter the FE turned for the second man, but he was gone. Connett went into the smoke-filled room to locate the mission man, but the sound of an explosion and of shattering glass forced him back out onto the balcony. At that point it was onto the penetrator himself and back up to Pony 2.

TSgt Dan Jaramillo, an FE on Colonel Wood’s Pony 3 helicopter did not have a cargo rope when he was lowered down to the balconies by hoist. Moreover, instead of a second FE, the hoist on his CH-3 was operated by 1Lt Frank Wallace, a Green Hornet instructor pilot from the 20th SOS. While hanging over 100 feet below the hovering helicopter, Jaramillo started swinging towards the survivors who were desperate to get out of their rooms and away from the burning hotel. In one room there were two men and another pregnant woman. On his third attempt to swing and grab the balcony railing the FE hit it at about chest high, so hard that it knocked the wind out of him. Jaramillo held onto the railing, though, and the men helped him onto the balcony. It took a few minutes to calm the woman down and convince her to get onto the hoist. The safety strap barely fit around her. Promising he would come back and get the two men, the FE strapped himself onto the second fold-down seat of the forest penetrator. Crying, the lady kissed her husband, and the FE gave the up signal to Wallace. They got her aboard and immediately took her to waiting paramedics in the parking lot below. Pony 3 then went back up and they made good on their promise to the two waiting survivors.

Jaramillo and Wallace continued their pendulum act to get people off of balconies or out of rooms on the upper floors. On one occasion, for a room without a balcony, Jaramillo crashed through the window to get to the survivors. Luckily, it was safety glass and it shattered when he hit it and he was winded but not hurt. Later, Wallace was swinging the FE towards another balcony and but that time they had too much speed. The tip of the penetrator caught the top of the railing and Jaramillo went tumbling over the balcony, crashed through the glass door, and landed at the feet of three people huddling in the corner. All three were rescued.

Not everyone the Air Commandos pulled out of the upper story rooms made it, though. One man was not breathing when the crew pulled him from his room. When the FE hoisted the victim into the helicopter the crew tried desperately to revive him. Despite administering rescue breathing, the man never regained consciousness. On another occasion, a young woman was trying to climb from her balcony to the one below. The FE saw her and signaled for her to get back inside the railing until he could swing over and help her. She was so scared though that she kept trying to stretch and make it to the lower balcony. As the FE on the hoist cable neared, only a few feet away, she lost her grip and fell more than 150 feet to her death.

The Aftermath

By about noon the firefighters had the blaze under control and they began escorting survivors from the upper floors upon onto the roof and the waiting Hueys and civilian helicopters. Hundreds of scared guests were airlifted down to the parking lot, evaluated, and treated for smoke inhalation, cuts and bruises, and shock. But the firefighters also found the bodies of almost 85 people who were not as fortunate.

The grim task of removing the dead bodies from the roof to the makeshift morgue that had been constructed in the parking lot fell to the Green Hornet crews. Major Hubbard remembers the care and respect the crews of the 20th SOS showed the deceased. He also remembers how some in the media failed to appreciate the situation and tried photographing remains as they were removed from the aircraft. One 20th SOS crew had to close the cabin doors of their helicopter because a perverse news photographer insisted on photographing an extremely attractive woman, dressed only in a fur coat, who had died from smoke inhalation. Another paparazzi placed a ladder in the back of a pickup truck to give him better vantage point for his macabre filming. Hubbard radioed 1Lt James Mehegan and asked him to hover near the insensitive photographer. After being completely enveloped in a cloud of sand, the photographer got the message and left the area.

By early afternoon, after more than six hours of continuous flying at the MGM Grand, the 302nd SOS helicopters were released from the mission. They had saved 17 people, 2 when Pony 3 landed on the roof and 15 more by hoist. But their day did not end there. They were tasked to fly back out into the Nellis Range complex and retrieve the Army Rangers they had inserted the day before. When the Pony crews finally got back to Nellis AFB and shut down for the day, they were directed to go to the Officers Club for an informal debriefing and a couple well-deserved beers. Despite aching muscles, smoke residue in their mouths, throats, noses, and lungs, and sweat-soaked sooty flight suits, the crews answered questions from the Air Force and from the media. The media frenzy continued for weeks, with the crews from both squadrons appearing on national television and on local news outlets when they returned home from Red Flag to spend Thanksgiving with their families.

Now, over forty years later, few recall the tragedy at the MGM Grand Hotel. But what those aircrews and maintainers did that day is still remarkable and deserves to be remembered as among Air Commandos’ finest moments. Their courage, strength, and creativity were pivotal in mitigating the disaster of what was the second worst hotel fire in US history. It is fitting that we remember and honor what they did in the service of their nation.

(Editor’s Note: Most of the official 20th SOS records from this mission have been lost and after 40 years, crew members’ memories have faded. The Green Hornet crew lists are as close as the editors could make them. We apologize for any inaccuracies. It is also worth noting that due to the exigencies of the moment, some crew members were placed into service to help where needed, for example, a pilot or a maintainer assisting qualified flight engineers in the cabins of the aircraft.)

Hornet 1
P: Maj Warren “Smokey” Hubbard
P: 2Lt Rich Kianka
FE: MSgt Rich Musterd
FE: MSgt Jesse Herrell

Hornet 2
P: 1Lt Jim Mehegan
P: 1Lt Dyke Whitbeck
FE: SSgt Dale Blackwood
FE: SMSgt Buck Watson

Hornet 3
P: Capt Howard Stevens
P: 1Lt Bob Donnelly
FE: SSgt Ed Acha
FE: Capt Burt McKenzie

Pony 1
P: Capt Lester “Ed” Smith
P: Maj Lawrence Lybarger
FE: TSgt Jerry Fletcher
FE: TSgt James Hodges

Pony 2
P: Capt Mike Martin
P: Capt Dave Ellis
FE: MSgt Jim Connett
FE: MSgt Bill Reynolds

Pony 3:
P: Lt Col Bruce Wood
P: Lt Col Bill Takacs, 20 SOS
FE: TSgt Dan Jaramillo
FE: 1Lt Frank Wallace, 20 SOS
FE: MSgt Ray Reynoso

Sidenote:

To the Air commando Association,
On behalf of all Air Commandos, thank you for your generous donation towards the ROOSTER73 Distinguished Flying Cross Reception. Your support means a great deal to the entire Air Commando family, and it underscores the significance of honoring our fallen heroes, Maj Randell Voas and SMSgt JB Lackey. Your support ensured this event was a fitting tribute to their exceptional service, heroism, and dedication.
Again, thank you for your kindness. Your generosity made a significant impact in honoring these fallen heroes.

Sincerely,
Tony D. Bauernfeind
Lieutenant General, USAF

Dear Col (ret) Barnett,
On behalf of the men and women of the Air Force Special Operations Command, I want to extend my heartfelt appreciation to the support your team provided during our recent combined Annual Awards ceremony honoring our amazing Air Commandos, past and present.
The countless hours your team spent are greatly appreciated and are to be commended. Those efforts resulted in a phenomenal banquet and allowed this event to appropriately honor our Outstanding Air Commandos and their families. Please pass on our sincere gratitude to all!

Anthony Green
CMSgt, USAF
Command Chief

RE: Air Commando Journal Volume 13: Issue 1
Thank you for yet another outstanding Journal. All the articles in this issue [13/1] were exceptional and provided great insight to the Air Commando history and specifically accomplishments of our often “Quiet Professionals.” Thank you for your hard work in continuing to produce what I think is the best Journal in DoD.

Max Friedauer, Lt Col (Retired)
Past ACA Director and Awards Chairman
Mary Esther, FL
ACA Life Member #2122

Fly By Nights Book Review
Just a quick note to say that I am always very pleased when the journal hits my mailbox—particularly this issue, which features an excellent review of Roger Graham’s book “Fly By Nights: Air Force A/B/RB Air Commando Missions in the Vietnam War.” As reviewed by Ret Major Scott E. McIntosh, the book tells the story of the reconstructed A-26 as told by the Commandos who flew and serviced this marvelous air machine in the waning days of combat in SEA.

Cheers,
Ken Alnwick
Sterling, VA
ACA Life Member #32

ACJ Staff,
I really enjoyed the Operation Just Cause article by Lt Gen Fister in the June issue (Vol 13, Issue 1) of the Air Commando Journal. However I was disappointed that Gen Fister neglected to mention the participation of the 919th Special Operation Wing at Duke Field, FL in that operation. The 919th SOW deployed AC-130A gunships, aircrew and maintenance personnel to Howard AFB in December 1989. The AC130As were in the air over Panama during the fight and contributed to the great success of Just Cause.

Lawrence M. Wager, Col, USAF (Retired)
Former Commander, 919th Special Operations Logistics Group,
Niceville, FL
ACA Life Member #6392

Larry,
Your comments were forwarded to me by the ACA front office, I am the Editor of the Air Commando Journal. Thank you for your feedback and I understand your points. I received one or two other critiques from members about missing details.
Gen Fister wrote the article from his perspective as the last senior commander alive. His intent was pretty much an overview of the first night operation to get Kurt Muse and take down the Commandancia and ultimately getting Noriega. The general did not mention several of the units that participated in the operation or the details of all the missions that all AFSOC units supported. I added the MH-53s and MH-47s (without unit names) deployment because I felt it added to the scale of the deployment–nearly a 12-hour over water flight. (I was not one of the deployers).
The bottom line is it was a relatively short article (1,750 words) and he wrote it from his perspective, memory and notes, and did not intend for it to be a history of the whole operation’s moving parts. I hope you understand that he did not intend to slight any of the units and their great work over the course of the operation. Clay McCutchan gave a great overview of what the 919th did during Just Cause in the ACJ Vol 3/4. 
Again, thank you for reaching out with your comments…we take them all.
Sincerely,
Paul Harmon, Colonel, USAF (Retired)
Editor-in-Chief Air Commando Journal

Air Commando Foundation Assist

A former 24 SOW member and his family lost their home in a devastating fire. They lost everything with the exception of their vehicles.
They are working closely with the insurance company and have raised money from a go-fund-me site, private individuals and a church who are assisting with immediate and personal needs.
They managed to find a rental home and move in, but as you can imagine living conditions are sparse.
Taking that into consideration, the Air Commando Foundation will be helping to offset costs by purchasing $3,000 worth of furniture and another $500 toward the family to cover any additional needs.
The family expressed their appreciation by stating: “Thank you so much for doing this for my family…for keeping track of us…so many moving parts…what you are doing for families past, present, and future. I want to give back. I appreciate you all. I am…speechless.”

This article/publication is for the information, interest, and enjoyment of our readers. Views and opinions expressed are of the author or source of material and do not necessarily reflect opinions, views, or endorsements of the Air Commando Association. Material in the Air Commando Journal (ACJ) may be reproduced provided the source is credited. Air Commando Journal is not sponsored by DoD, USAF, or AFSOC.