45th Fighter Squadron
Sarajevo International
Threat from enemy aircraft has fallen off substantially in the past few days and as a result our squadron has been sent further and further behind the enemy lines. I recently moved over to the A-10 community from the F-16. Although I miss the high speed and complexity of the Falcon, there is something about the down in the weed mission and the simple stick and rudder controls of the A-10 that is appealing, at least to me. I like the fact that I can carry enough bombs to deal with anything on the ground, I sit in a titanium bathtub, I can loiter all day, I sit on the biggest gun in theater, and I look good.
We have been doing yeoman’s work destroying the enemy’s artillery and air defense network. Occasionally we are able to catch an enemy armor column or truck convoy out in the open and then cluster munitions and the gattling gun come into play. The destruction is unbelievable. We have also been used as Sandys in the standard SAR package. There is talk of retiring the A-10 after this conflict but I think the A-10 has really distinguished itself as cover during SAR mission. No other plane can get down in the weeds, flying slowly (to pick out targets), and destroy with such accuracy as the A-10. Therefore I believe will survive the next round of cuts and be designated solely as a SAR support platform. Only time will tell. But for now our mission is to destroy as much of the Serbian war machine as possible and we are hard at work taking on that task.
Lumbering out of my rack I clean up and head off for a hot breakfast of eggs, bacon, toast and some brown stuff (SOS, if you have ever been in the military you know what this is). Wolfing down my meal some of the other pilots and I discuss the progress of the war. We seem to have a firm grasp of the air space over the battle area but we are making little progress on the ground. For reasons we don’t understand it seems that the NATO commanders are not willing to commit the necessary force to expel the Serbs back to their lines prior to their attack. I guess political considerations have to be taken into account but as a military man I have no such use for such considerations. All this does is prolong the suffering and put more of my colleagues at risk. After my mail I walk over to see what is on tap for the day. I expect to fly a couple of search and destroy mission and possibly be available for SAR duty as needed. I am astonished to find that I am scheduled to lead a four ship deep behind enemy lines to attack the chemical factory at Sabac. “Man, this plane is not suited for this mission” I think as I wonder what the hell the mission planners are thinking. As a matter of fact, I think I will head over and talk to them, maybe they can give me some of what they have been smoking…
I enter the tent to meet with Col. Smith. “Phil, what’s up with this? How the hell am I going to get a flight of A-10s this deep into enemy territory, attack the target and get out of there?” I ask. “Don’t worry about it, our intel says that they have nothing airworthy up there that can challenge you. There will also be F15 and 14s in the area in case you get into a jam.” AF brass wants to prove the worth of the A-10 in an effort to keep it off the chopping block. This mission has serious ramifications for the life of the HOG, additionally the target is extremely important. Defector and prisoner interviews indicate that the Serbs are playing with anthrax and smallpox in this facility.” Phil continues “there is more, of course I never said this. We are sending you up there mid-day on purpose. The top bio/chemical scientists in Serbia are working in that facility. We want you to level that place. Anybody you see should be come subject to your cannon. Straff the shit out of the parking lot, kill everything…everything.” “Hmmm…war is hell,” I think as I turn to walk out of the tent. Now my brain is filled with ideas as to how best accomplish this mission. Should we ingress high or low, what about SAR that deep in enemy territory, enemy guns are sure to ring the facility. Enemy search radar and SAM are all along the path. Head over to planning and pull the latest satellite imagery from the target area and also pull the treat ring map to see what we have to fly through to get to the target. Just as I suspected, there are overlapping radar coverage the entire way up to the target. OK that answers the ingress question, low level all the way. From the satellite several AAA gun emplacements are clearly visible. I will assign the second element to take out the triple A and then my wing and I will swoop in and destroy the target. Following the destruction of the facility, we will turn our attention to the parking area and any “movers” visible. I figure about 7 minutes over the target and then we will pick up the river heading southwest for home. Once clear of the triple A we will climb out and make it for home as the best possible speed.
Following the briefing we meet on the flight line to examine our war machines. Mixed in amongst the sleek F16s and F18s the HOG looks like a throw back to a bye gone era. Lizard green, loaded down with bombs, rockets with tiger teeth painted on the nose she looks like a real nasty bitch. She has proven her metal under fire and today she will do so again. I conduct a walk around and run through the checklist. The mission ready rate for this plane has been pretty amazing up to this point in the war, hovering a little over 85 percent. This is very impressive considering the mission. Following the external inspection I climb the ladder and get situated in the cockpit. The cockpit of the A-10 is populated with old fashion dials and gauges, a stark contrast to the all glass cockpits of modern fighters. With the canopy lifted I continue down the checklist and go through the start up procedure. I communicate with the crew chief through the intercom system; he is plugged in through a connection on the outside of the jet. Firing up the number one engine I watch as the gauges, engine oil, hydraulics, etc. stabilize in the green. The whine of the turbine is not very load but piercing in its high pitch. Once the instruments have stabilized and the crew chief gives the OK I fire up number two. Again I watch for the needles to stabilize also taken into my immediate view is the big light right up front that says fire. Once all is in the green and the turbines are humming the crew chief rolls up his comms cable and disconnects from the aircraft.
Looking to my right, I pick up the other members of the flight. It appears that everyone is ready to roll so I call for all to check in with their status. “Bull11 to Bull1 status check” “two is code one” “three” “four”, all check in ready to roll. I stage my radios with one set to ground and two set to the tower. Keying the mic with the press of my foot on the foot switch I request taxing instructions. “Bull1 is a flight of four request taxi instructions to the active” I call. “Bull cleared for taxi to runway 16 right, hold short, contact tower for takeoff instructions.” I push the throttles forward to dump fuel into the engines; the engine whine intensifies as my plane starts a slow forward roll. I follow the cues of the crew chief who snaps to attention and whips off a snappy salute as I pick up the yellow taxi line and proceed towards the active runway and out of his control. Pulling out our parking slots, we proceed towards the active lined up 1 through 4. As we slowly proceed I go over my maps and intel one more time. I fade out briefly going through the mission in my head (I always do this before a mission in an attempt to visualize what may come).
Holding short of the active runway I lower the canopy and
put my game face on. “Sarajevo tower, from Bull1, we are a flight of four
requesting permission to takeoff.” “Bull1 hold short for incoming traffic.” As
I hold my position I scan my instruments again, and re-read my threat intel.
While reading my attention is snapped back to my front as a C130 cargo plane
comes rumbling in past my nose. I turn my attention back to my intel and
continue to read “Bull11, Sarajevo tower, winds are out of the east at five
knots, you are cleared for takeoff runway 16 right. Good day sir.” “Bull11.”
With that I nudge my pig out onto the runway and center her up. Again I scan my
instruments, everything is in the green so I apply maximum throttle and my plane
slowly starts to accelerate down the runway. Unlike the F series planes that I
have flown there is no sensation of being shot out of a gun. This is a gradual
slow acceleration so slow in fact I wonder if I will ever achieve flying speed
as the runway passes beneath me. Just as I am reaching the end of the runway,
my speed passed through 150knots and I am able rotate the nose skyward. Dust
kicks up from the ground as I just make it off the ground before running out of
runway. 
Once I am clear of the runway I quickly retract my landing gear and turn to right heading 078 towards the second steer point. We will form at the second steer point at altitude and then slowly work our way down to the deck, inbound for the target. Climbing out I look to my left and watch as the other members of my flight lumber down the runway and struggle into the air. “Damn this is an ugly plane” I think as sly grin comes over my face, I can’t believe they pay me to do this.” I think as I work my controls. We continue for ten miles and achieve an altitude of 15 thousand feet before leveling off. We proceed to the second steer point in silence. “Bull assume trail formation and close in tight” I call as we approach the second steer point. Calling for Sentry I request a check of the picture. The picture is clear with only friendly aircraft in the vicinity. Passing through the second steer-point, I nose over and head for the safety of the canyon below. Followed by the other members of the flight, we snake our way north towards the target always with an eye on the Radar Warning Receiver (RWR) display.
I punch in the guard frequency so I can listen to any activity around us but we maintain radio silence as we continue north towards the third steer-point. Approaching the third steer-point we climb to 2000 feet in order to map the target area for attack. We cross the third steer-point and immediately the RWR indicator lights up and shows that number search radars looking at us. I quickly lock up the center of an enemy gun emplacement and pass it off to Bull13 and 14 to attack. No sooner than I give the order to attack, all the guns in the world open up on us. “Jammer”, is heard in my ear as I activate the jamming pod. “Dumb ass, you should have done this before you popped up to attack,” I think to myself. Dodging the flak burst, I dial in the Chemical plant and make my iron bombs the active weapon, staged to drop in pairs. “Maverick, maverick”, is heard in the head set as 13 and 14 attach the enemy guns, I look over to my right as watch as maverick missiles streak towards the enemy guns. Snapping my attention back to the task at hand I lock up the enemy facility and order 12 to attack. Continuing to climb I switch over to CCIP manual bombing mode, I like the death dot. Now at 1500 feet, I roll inverted and pull into a dive. The flak lessons as Hog13 &14 put bombs on target. Briefly hanging in my seat, I continue to roll and maneuver my death dot while I shallow out my dive. I walk the dot over the center of the target and pickle off a pair of MK83s. The sudden release of 1000 pounds of iron causes my plane to buffet slightly and I pull out of my dive and zoom away from the target. Bull12 calls “bomb gone” just as my bombs impact the target. Now about a mile from the target I turn back and prepare for my second run. Just as I get turned around, Bull12’s bombs strike. The explosion is enormous and fire engulfs the shell that used to be a weapons factory. It is my guess that the facility is completely destroyed but people can be seen running for cars and trying to escape in every direction.
Locking up one of the vehicles I give the flight the command to “attack targets.” All acknowledge and swoop in from different directions with guns blazing. As I cross the parking lot I pickle off my remaining bombs down the center of the one roadway leading away from the facility. I roll right so to see the destruction. As my bombs go off one by one cars, trucks, and people are helplessly flung into the air. I continue to look back as my wing dogs work over the parking lot with fuel air explosives and 30-mike-mike cannon fire. The carnage is reminiscent of the highway of death on the road to Basra in 93, albeit on a much smaller scale. We continue to work until Sentry puts out an ominous call, “Bull1 from Sentry1 bandits 230 heading North West, 35 miles.” “Rgr, break, Bull1 to Bull, close in tight trail formation and follow me.” I call as I turn and run for home. For reasons I still don’t know I look over my right shoulder just in time to catch a glimpse of an SA-2 turning hard to intercept me. Instinctively I kick flares and chaff out the back end of my jet and turn hard into the missile. Turning inside the turning radius of the SAM I watch the missile fly harmlessly behind me and explodes. I continue to corkscrew toward the deck. Leveling off I pick up a valley and head south as fast as my pony will take me. Now I am keeping a very sharp eye on the RWR. In a matter of minutes my worst fears are realized.
“Bull1 to Sentry, we have MIGs crawling up our ass, send those fast movers over our way, and I do mean expedite!” The controller can sense the urgency in my voice, as I have no desire to go air-to-air in this pig. I drop down a few more feet hoping that the enemy is flying MIG-21s and unable to distinguish us from ground clutter on their radar. Now is the time when I wished I had a big afterburning strapped to my back. We continue south and the sweat beads up on my forehead and rolls down my cheek. “Bull1 from TopCat, we are a pair of Tomcats in re-heat. We will be over you in 15 seconds coming from the west.” There are few things in life more beautiful then a pair of F-14s with their wings folded back and long orange flame extending from their tailpipes. Knowing that we have cover we start a gradual climb out and level off at a comfortable 20,000 feet.
As we approach Sarajevo I call for landing instructions and follow those instructions until on final approach. I like to use the VASI lights so I keep the red over the white and right the glide path all the way in touching down on the numbers. I taxi to the end of the runway and pull off just as my number 2’s wheels touch down. Taxiing over to hot fuel, I sit and go get an initial intel de-brief while my plane receives gas.
After turning the plane back over to the crew chief we all gather in the briefing room for the final briefing. Intelligence reports that the factory was completely destroyed by our attack additionally several vehicles of various types were destroyed. Satellite imagery shows nearly one hundred vehicles destroyed and the plant looks to be completely out of action and not usable at least for the duration of this conflict. The Hog has proven to be a useful tool and may survive the axe during the next round of budget cuts.
Lt. Col Arnold “Puma” Bell
December 23, 2002