Operation Desert Storm

At 2am on January 17th, I was in my dorm room watching CNN, when Breaking News announced that the U.S. Navy had begun launching cruise missiles from their ships in the Persian Gulf attacking Iraqi troop concentrations in Kuwait. The U.N. security council had previously given the green light to military action in case Iraq would not comply with the conditions of the ultimatum given in a U.N. resolution. So it has begun. We had been briefed earlier during the afternoon of the 16th, that military action would begin the following morning, but we didn't have any part of the operation itself, and there was no need to know any details. 

The troop deployments during Operation Desert Shield in preparation of Operation Desert Storm decimated the U.S. personnel on base significantly. Not only were the men and women attached to the ECS and TCW units, their maintenance and support crews deployed to Italy and Turkey in the last days and weeks. It was also other support staff that left the base almost empty. The NCO club was practically deserted, and notably the American Post Office on base (APO) was understaffed. 

Me and my Admin Supervisor,

MSgt Lewis O'Bryant,

nicknamed "O.B."

One day, I was doing admin duties at our HQ 17th Air Force admin offices, a sergeant walked in and asked for a U.S. supervisor. I called MSgt O'Bryant over and continued with my tasks at hand. However, I was able to overhear what the sergeant told O.B. The post office was desperately looking for volunteers from other units on base not affected by the operation, since their regular staff had been sent to Incirlik to provide postal services there. After the sergeant who was from the office of the Base Commander left, I had an idea. 

It had bothered me that my American friends were deployed to defend a helpless nation from being overrun by a madman, and that Germany did nothing, other than following Chancellor Kohl's infamous "Checkbook Diplomacy". But there was nothing I could do. Except now! I walked over to the Deputy Commander's office, who with the Commander always being a U.S. General, was by default always a German Colonel and my direct German Air Force superior officer. 

Colonel Fricke was a career officer who rose through the ranks being assigned to mostly German Air Force Air Defense Missile units. We sometimes called those guys the Air Force artillery, and just like their army siblings, the Air Defense guys in the German Air Force, at least back then, always had a stricter, more disciplinarian attitude. Since Col Fricke replaced the first "DC", Col Kluss, even Fricke loosened up after a while and developed a more relaxed, and most importantly approachable attitude. His secretary was a local German lady in her late 20s, and she and I usually got along nicely. I asked her, if the Colonel was available and after she announced me, I entered his office. 

The U.S. Post office (APO) on Sembach Air Base

I told him about the need of the U.S. Post office for volunteers, and since we as Germans had our hands tied when it comes to supporting Desert Storm, at least we could see if the Base Commander would also accept German military personnel as volunteers. Col Fricke, who shared my frustration of not being able to actively participate in Desert Storm, was very happy to hear my proposal and immediately picked up the phone to call LtCol Walker, his DO to share the idea and to have Walker approach the Base Commander. The Base Commander was very grateful for the offer, and gladly accepted. 

At that point it had only been me volunteering, as none of my German comrades knew of any of this. However, I quickly went down to the bunker to talk to my buddies who had the second day shift (the afternoon shift was called the swing shift). I can't remember who was on duty that afternoon but everyone immediately agreed and committed to helping out. We ended up being about a half a dozen or so volunteering, and the next morning, some of us, who were able to spare the time, showed up at the APO to be trained as post office workers. Just like myself, my bunker buddies of course would still have to honor their primary duties as SAM, Flight, or Early Warning Technicians and could only participate on their spare time outside of their shifts.

Apart from helping out at the post office and continuing our daily work at the SOC, Desert Storm had no significant impact on our lives, other than the deserted base, and missing my deployed friends. Colin was able to periodically use a satellite phone (remember, this was a time before cell phones!), and sometimes called me to say hi, and that everything was ok, apart from occasional air raid warnings they received, but without any major consequences. I continued to call his family every once in a while to convey Colin's messages. I did not hear from any of my other friends in Turkey, but like I said, communication wasn't easy back in 1991, since there was no such thing as Internet, Email or Cell Phones.

Operation Desert Shield

At the end of 1990 amidst the world focusing on the collapse of communism all over Europe, another historic event began to take place: The invasion of Kuwait by Iraq and Saddam Hussein. It was clear from the beginning, that with President Bush and his administration deeply connected to global oil, that the U.S. would not let the Iraqi dictator get away with it. Bush was able to swiftly form an international coalition that included some Western nations, as well as key players in the middle east. However, Germany, the newest member on the world stage, who only just recently regained its full sovereignty after decades under Allied control, refused to commit any military aid or assistance, but instead offered to writing checks, and allowing the U.S. to use its bases in Germany as logistical hubs, rather than origins of direct military operations targeting Iraqi forces. The U.S. was forced to use another NATO ally's base to conduct these operations, namely Incirlik Air Base in Southeastern Turkey. 

The time building up to actual military action in the fall of 1990, named "Operation Desert Shield", visibly made my U.S. air force friends increasingly nervous and somewhat anxious, not knowing what the President may end up doing. An ultimatum was set for Hussein to withdraw all troops and cease all aggression towards Kuwait by January 16, 1991. As the deadline approached, Sembach Air Base personnel shrunk by the minute. More and more units were moved to either Italy or Turkey, and my friends were told, that they will also have to go. Being aircraft mechanics working on C-130s, they would need to go where the aircrafts go. 

The C-130s stationed at Sembach were part of the 43rd ECS (Electronic Combat Squadron) and functioned primarily as radar jammers, packed with electronic equipment practically rendering any radar detection efforts by the enemy useless. They were essential in protecting the fighter jets flying assault missions from their Italian base in Aviano, and were also capable of refueling the assault aircraft. 

I often spent hours on the balcony outside my dorm room watching these beautiful and majestic planes practice touch and go's down on the flight line, along with A10s and sometimes F16s.

I believe it was January 13th, when Colin called and woke me in the middle of the night, visibly shaken. He was just told to get ready to be deployed to Incirlik air base, and that they would move within a few hours. I ran over to his room, where he was frantically trying to pack additional items into his duffle bag, that had already been packed for days anticipating an imminent deployment to the war zone with the most basics stuff, adding toiletries and other daily needs.

He told me he didn't have time to call his family in California before they would fly out, and he gave me his parents' phone number in Santa Maria, asking me to call them and tell them that he'd be ok. We talked a little about what he might expect in Turkey, and I reinsured him, that Incirlik is a secure airbase way out of the reach of any Iraqi missiles or aircraft, which would be annihilated by the U.S. within hours of Operation Desert Storm commencing. That by the way turned out to be a very accurate assessment of Hussein's aerial military capabilities. Besides, he would be safe on base working on the aircraft, not anywhere near any combat zones. We hugged, and he left to be picked up by a bus taking him and his buddies to the flight line, where transport aircraft were waiting, ready to take them to Turkey.

The next day I waited until afternoon to call Colin's parents in California, nine hours behind. I spoke with his mom Margie, who was understandably scared when I told her, that her son had just left to go to war. Colin's dad, a Sheriff deputy with the Santa Barbara County's Sheriff Department was not home, when I called, and I promised Margie to call every time I hear from Colin.