Air Soldiers of

Desert Shield/Desert Storm

7 Aug 1990-1 Mar 1991

I remember hearing the sharp piercing wail of the air raid siren as it blasted the alert indicating that we had incoming scuds. I remember getting out of the hummer and watching as the men and women around me put on their gas mask and ran to the bunker for protection. I, however, stood outside and looked up into the clear night sky. I was looking for the scud. At night, it’s easier to see them because they have behind them a fire trail, so we all wait. After a few minute’s we hear the explosion as two patriot missiles, which were fired reach the speed of sound, their target – the inbound scud. We all watch as they climb skyward leaving a trail of fire behind them in route to their target. Then we see the flash and hear the sound as they make impact with the scud body. We all yell and jump around with excitement. However, as we watch the scud warhead plunge to earth, we realize that its trajectory is the north side of the base. Then BOOM … followed by the concussion from the disturbance in the air and the ground shaking. Suddenly the radio is alive as we hear the frantic transmission from Bravo 11. The warhead hit about 200 yards from their location but …

I want to say thank you to the men and women I served with and especially to Tech Sergeant Ray “Cowboy” Craig who became my best friend in that struggle for anything and everything that would help us make it back to our families in one piece.

Desert Shield/Desert Storm

Thursday, Aug 2, 1990.

Zero six hundred comes early no matter what morning it is and boy do I hate the alarm clock, it’s not the clock so much as it is the time it is set for. So, I get up and boy am I sluggish, especially not being a morning person. But, I do manage to crawl out of bed, get shaved, dressed and make my way to the kitchen where my darling wife has the coffee brewing.

“Morning babe,” I say as I come up behind her. I pour my first cup of coffee, and begin my day having no idea what was about to unfold, as did no one else for that matter. When I am finished with my breakfast I kiss the wife and go out the door of our on base apartment at Bethel Manor, get in the van and head off to work. It takes me about ten minutes as I go in through the NASA gate. I drive to the office, which is now in the newly constructed office of CSC/SPOS, which happened to be in an old control tower, which we converted. SPOS is on the second floor and Central Security Control, CSC is on the third.

When I arrive, I am always the first one there, I put the coffee on and go about the business of the day, updating OI’s, or SSI’s or whatever needed to be done as far as paperwork is concerned, just your typical day. Today we are in the second day of an anti-terrorist exercise and at about 09:15 I get a call to go to the LE desk and assist them. I guess it’s because they need an extra man there as a Controller for the anti-terrorism exercise that started yesterday.

Tech Sergeant Peter Benoit and Staff Sergeant Jeffery Hughey are the Desk Sergeants and as I walk in the main door I say, “Hey, ya’ll what’s up.”

“Just waiting on this exercise,” Pete said smiling.

As the morning went on we, just so happened to be listening to the commercial radio … Before I continue let me stop and first introduce a few of the characters.

My name is Lonnie M. Fulbright. As a kid us boys would use go through the motions of playing war. I loved the old war shows like, Combat, Rat Patrol, McHale’s Navy and so on. When I was 10 years, while living in Mississippi, I decided that when I was 18 I was going to join the Air Force. Then as a teenager from 1968 – 1974 there was the unpopular war in Vietnam, a war I had no idea about.

I entered the Air Force in 1974 when Vietnam was in its winding down stages. That’s right, I said Air Force. How about that, someone who isn’t in the Army, Navy, or Marines and not a Pilot, I’ll bet you didn’t know that. Yep, the Air Force has heroes that are not Pilots. Yes sir, we the Security Police are the Air Forces ground pounders, Air Base Defenders who operate the same way the Army does. That’s right, we dug holes in the ground, we patrolled, (outside the wire), we killed the enemy and we defended our Air base to the death. Yep, we are just as special as any special forces. Okay, off my soap box.

I did however, train under that umbrella, I was also introduced to anti-terrorism training. My first assignment was to Griffis AFB, Rome N.Y. There I began my indoctrination to Nuke Security becoming what we eagerly liked being called “SAC Trained Killers.” I went to Germany after that, and then on to the worse place on the earth,

Grand Forks, which I hated with a passion. Kunsan South Korea was next and finally in 1986 I was reassigned to Langley AFB. There I trained as a Security Controller and Flight Chief. Then In 1988, I was given the job as the NCOIC, that’s Non-Commissioned Officer in Charge, of security sensors, pretty fancy title ain’t it? Then, what the military trains for happened, War. August 1990 Iraq invaded Kuwait and off we went. I deployed with the finest Security Police Squadron that I have ever had the privilege to serve with, to central Saudi Arabia. 

The following poem gives the US Air Force Security Police a little praise.

D E F E N D E R S

The Army has their claim to fame,

The “Airborne Rangers, The Green Beret”

The Corps have their elite too

Recon Patrol, the proud, the few

The world knows of the Navy Seal

Life of Danger, Men of Steel

But when it comes to us, not much is heard

We’re just Air Force cops who guard the birds

In Vietnam, through toil and strife

We gave it all, our hearts, our life

A page in history, a chapter in time

We fought for freedom, yours and mine

We stay vigilant, through cold and rain

And bear the hardship, fatigue and pain

This piece of ground we will defend

Side by side, till the bitter end

So fear not pilot, you can fly all day,

This base is guarded by the “Blue Beret”

Now that I have introduced myself, let’s introduce Raymond “Cowboy” Craig. He is just coming off a short tour and finds himself on the edge of a deployment.  But this one wasn’t just another, run of the mill deployment, no sir, this one was for keeps, we were headed into a place we never expected to go and of course, well, you know.  In the picture below you can see Ray smiling trying to make believe he is a happy camper, he twern’t happy a-tall. No sir, as-a-matter-of-fact, I’d say he was a mite upset. Let’s see what he has to say.

“On August 2, 1990 I was stationed at Langley AFB in Hampton, Virginia, having just arrived there in May after completing a year-long tour in Korea without my family. I was pretty happy to be at Langley because I’m originally from Virginia and Hampton was only an hour away from my old stomping grounds of Highland Springs, and I also knew that Langley would most likely be my last duty station before I retired from the Air Force.

               “My family and I had, for the most part, made it through the awkward period of getting reacquainted that always comes after the service member returns home after a remote tour, and were looking forward to the time we were to spend in Virginia,”  He goes on further to say that he was looking forward to the time when he was going to spend with his unit, the 1st Security Police Squadron, because for the first time in his Air Force career he was stationed at a base where there was a Federal Magistrate’s Court nearby, which meant that when we of the Base Police wrote a civilian a ticket.  He couldn’t just wipe his butt with it since the standard AF Form 1408 means nothing to a civilian. But the DD Form 1805/Magistrate’s Ticket, however, was another thing entirely – this was a TRAFFIC CITATION in every sense of the word, points against your license, fines, the whole thing! At Langley I felt more like a bona-fide cop than I ever did before. So I was working the Day Shift as the Flight Chief of “A” Flight and was still trying to get to know the people on my shift and in my unit. I was also, pretty secure in the notion that since I had just completed my second remote tour, the Air Force was going to leave me alone as far as lengthy deployments or reassignments went for at least the next 18 months, because according to regulations that’s how long it was going to be before I was eligible for either. Saddam Hussein changed all that. I was off that day and was at my quarters in the Bethel Manor off-base housing area when the phone rang. I answered it and was told that a base-wide recall had just been initiated; I asked why, and the Desk Sergeant on the other end told me that Iraqi forces had just invaded Kuwait, and Kuwait was screaming for help, so I did exactly what you are supposed to do when you get the “recall” phone call. I stopped what I was doing. I Put on my BDU uniform without bothering to shave or shower or anything like that (time is VERY critical during a recall). I grabbed my pre-packed Mobility Bag containing enough uniforms and personal hygiene supplies for 30 days in the field, kissed my kids and my then-wife Mary good-bye, got in my brand-new blue Chevy S-10 pickup truck I had just bought the month before, and drove to the base to report in. Needless-to-say, the traffic heading into the base was a nightmare, but it was an orderly nightmare.

               Once I arrived at my squadron area and signed in. I was in turn, sent to the Armory area to wait. Nobody knew what was going to happen since the President of the United States had not decided whether to send troops in or not; seems he wanted to give the Useless Nations a chance to act first. We sat around for about six hours or so and finally given the word – go home and wait for the phone to ring. Normal duty assignments in the meantime, but, be ready to go at a moment’s notice.

Was I worried? Nope. For two reasons: One, I had just gotten back from a remote tour so I wasn’t eligible for deployment, and Two, I seriously believed that Hussein would back down and pull his troops out of Kuwait. And I spent the next 4 days telling everyone who asked me if I thought we were gonna go “no,” because he’d back down. NO WAY would he risk incurring the wrath of the entire world and especially the United States by remaining in Kuwait. The outcry from the rest of the world, even from the other Muslim states, was universal and deafening, all of them calling for his immediate withdrawal. As the reports of looting, pillaging, burning and raping started to flow in, the calls for his withdrawal turned into demands and finally into ultimatums. But he’d pull out. Sure he would – NOBODY could be THAT stupid. Or so I thought.”

Okay, on with the rest of the story.

August 2, 1990:

News Reports:

At about 2 a.m. local time Saudi Arabia, Iraqi forces invaded Kuwait, Iraq’s tiny, oil-rich neighbor. Kuwait’s defense forces were rapidly overwhelmed, and those that were not destroyed retreated to Saudi Arabia. The emir of Kuwait, his family, and other government leaders fled to Saudi Arabia as well, and within hours Kuwait City had been captured and the Iraqis had established a provincial government. By annexing Kuwait, Iraq gained control of 20 percent of the world’s oil reserves and, for the first time, a substantial coastline on the Persian Gulf. The same day, the United Nations Security Council unanimously denounced the invasion and demanded Iraq’s immediate withdrawal from Kuwait.

              I am at the LE desk.

              “Did you here that?” Hughey said as he turned up the volume on the radio.

              All of a sudden we started seeing the squadron come to life as people started buzzing around. The news kept reporting and we heard about the reaction from the White House.

President Bush was not too happy. We heard that he froze all of Iraqi assets, put all military base on alert for deployment, and started making preparations for war. After some talk back and forth we heard that our supply section had started getting some pallets put together and being readied for deployment.  Some thought that we’re going while others thought we wouldn’t.  I personally thought that we would not, that a “Sanction” solution would, as always, do the trick. But this day the radio and TV were alive with all kinds of reports about special meetings with the white house and the U.N. Security Council.

“Well Sergeant Fulbright, what do you think?”

“About us going to war, not going to happen.”  

“Well, all I’ve got to say,” Pete said laughing. “Is can you speak Arabic?” 

I laughed because I really didn’t believe it.

“Didn’t you know that Langley, the 1^st TFW’s deployment area is the Southwest Asia area, Saudi Arabia to be exact?” Benoit said as he looked up at me.

My laugh was turning out to be, not just a laugh because something was funny, but because it was just a way to hide the real feeling. Then we heard what everyone at the desk thought was the clincher. The Saudi King, being in fear for his country, requested the protection of the U.S. military. As Bugs Bunny would say, “of course you know this means war.” Oh boy, I think.

 Of course we know it wasn’t about land or the incursion thereof, it was about the oil. We could really care less about the people or the land, but we did care about that oil. So, with all of that said, we can get into this new adventure called Operation called Desert Shield/Storm.

More Reports:

2 August 1990: Iraqi Invasion

The Iraqi attack had been launched at 01:00hrs of 2

August 1990, with the T-72s and mechanized infantry of the al-Medinah al-Munawera Division rolling over the border south of Safwan and along the Highway 6 towards Kuwait City. There was no opposition: although informed, the royal family and Kuwaiti officials did nothing to warn their armed forces, instead being busy with preparations for a hasty departure. The Iraqis swiftly bypassed the base of the 6th Kuwaiti Mechanized Brigade, and rushed towards south, reaching the outskirts of Kuwait City already by 05:00hrs, few minutes before the dawn. Simultaneously, the al-Medinah al-Munawera Armored Division entered the Rumaylah oilfields and raced towards the south, bypassing the base of the Kuwaiti 35th Mechanized Brigade in the process.

 
It was only around 05:00hrs that the first Kuwaiti

Land Forces unit – roughly a battalion of Chieftain Tanks from the 35th Mechanized Brigade, led by Col. Salem al-Srour – has moved out of its base and towards Jahra, with intention of mounting delaying action. At dawn, both sides brought their air forces into action, and it was around this time – shortly after 05:00hrs – that the Kuwaiti air defense units were activated. Shortly before the first wave of IrAF fighter-bombers arrived, two KAF A-4KUs were scrambled from the Ahmed al-Jaber AB. They attacked the front column of the al-Medinah al-Munawera Armored Division, making two strafing passes each, causing little (if any) damage before escaping undamaged.

Due to chaos and break down of its chain of command – but at least as much due to the fact that none of its Pakistani, Indian and Bengali officers and NCOs that managed the armament and technical support of the KAF units was available – the KAF was not yet able of mounting additional sorties before larger formations of Iraqi fighter-bombers and helicopters reached Kuwait City. This meant that none of KAF was caught literally with its “trousers down”. Nevertheless, there was an active MIM-23B I-HAWK site at Bubiyan Island, controlled by a US contractor, who ordered it into firing action after detecting the first formations of Iraqi aircraft and helicopters approaching.

Despite the Kuwaitis, subsequently claiming their “SAM-sites” to have shot down up to 14 Iraqi aircraft and helicopters, only two HAWK-kills can be confirmed: a Su-22 and MiG-23BN were shot down while approaching over the northern Persian Gulf at dawn. These two planes belonged to formations that took off from Wahda AB (better known as as-Shoibiyah), and were underway to attack Kuwait IAP, along the route as-Shoibiyah – al-Faw – Kuwait IAP. The Su-22 belonged to the No.109 Squadron, and the MiG-23BN to the No.49 Squadron IrAF, and both fighters were flown by young 1st Lieutenants. Both planes were shot down around 05:00hrs and the Iraqis found no trace of them subsequently. In reaction to activity of the Kuwaiti MIM-23B I-HAWK site at Bubyan, one of Su-22s from the No.109 Squadron IrAF (based at as-Shoibiyah AB), fired a single Kh-25MP anti-radar missile, forcing the site to shut down its radar. Although the IrAF has had Kh-25s since several years, it never used them against Iran, and this was the first combat firing of this weapon ever.

The results of this strike remain unknown. Later in the day, around 09:00hrs, when Iraqi special units arrived on Bubyan Island to capture the I-HAWK site, they found out that it was set on “automatic” mode of operation. The US contractor had fled, leaving startled Kuwaitis to give up: they have just raised their hands on the sight of the first Iraqi.

As expected, the base Commander terminated the exercise and called for a high level staff meeting. We were really preparing for a trip to what we called “the sandbox”.

The news reports kept coming in and what we heard wasn’t good.  It was a confirmation of what was being planned. We got the real deal word through ops, or operations, that the first Tactical Fighter Wing was deploying into the desert along with all the support personnel. That meant that the base had to be secured before they got there which meant, as you can guess, that 116 of us were packing up and, within a few days headed for our South West Asia area. So, in that sound you would in an old Navy movie, “This is not a drill, this is not a drill, all hands man your battle stations. This was the real deal, and being assigned to the HQ element as security, I knew that I was going. All during my career I, along with my fellow security policemen, had practiced for war so, was I excited, yep.  Was I scared, yep, but who wouldn’t be.  We were inexperienced and untested. But letting a war pass me by in my generation and me not be a part of it, notta! I went home after work and told my wife.