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.
