“Affirm, affirm,” Buster replied. Vega was a bit confused about what was going on. He wanted to know if he should continue monitoring his radio or not. I considered this a good sign. If Vega didn’t have an idea of when we were planning the pickup, the Serbs should also have trouble figuring it out.
Buster then called us: “Sandy Five-One and Five-Two, I want you to come in and anchor 10 miles southwest of objective and provide mutual support until Sandy Three-Zero, Three-One bingo.”
“Copy, en route to 10 miles southwest objective now,” I answered. Joe Bro and I were holding on the border, and Buster wanted us to move forward and hold southwest of Vega. Buster and Slobee were running low on gas and would soon have to go searching for another tanker.
“With your eyeball out and your raw up. Confirm your raw is up,” I transmitted to Joe Bro.
He replied, “That is affirmative. Raw is up, chaff flare and pod is on.” Before we entered Serbia we double-checked our jet’s self-protection equipment. The radar warning receiver (RWR, pronounced raw), chaff, flares, and the ECM pod are the systems we would use to defeat any SAMs the Serbs might launch.
“Sandy Three-Zero, SAM reported active BRA, north 10.” Magic was reporting that a nearby SAM was trying to track Buster and Slobee.
“Five-One, Four-One and Four-Two are in trail on you. We’re about 700 pounds above bingo before tanker.” Meegs and Scrape, Sandy 41 flight, had joined in behind Joe Bro and me and were following us into the heart of Serbia. They had enough gas to hang around for another 15 minutes.
“Five-One, Three-Zero; we’re going to have to bug out for gas. The signal is standard; confirm you have the information to give that signal.” Buster was flying on fumes and had to return to the tanker. He was making sure that I had all the info to get Vega to signal the helos at the right time.
“OK, you got the helos up SAR bravo?” I hadn’t heard the helicopters on “bravo” frequency yet. I was trying to act like I was in charge now.
“They’re coming up SAR bravo now.” Meegs interjected.
“Sandy, Moccasin Six-Zero on PLS bravo.” The helos were finally up on the bravo frequency associated with the personnel-locator system.
“Magic, Three-Zero is going to have to RTB for gas. Moccasin, Sandy Five-One now OSC.” Buster had finally turned west. He informed Magic that he was returning to base (RTB) due to low fuel. In reality, Buster was so low on fuel that he had to find a tanker or divert to Tuzla, Bosnia. He also informed Moccasin that I was the OSC.
“Sandy Five-One, Moccasin is up—can you hear that on uniform?” I hadn’t responded to Moccasin’s first radio call. Meegs knew I had been having uniform-radio problems and was asking on victor to make sure I could hear him.
“That’s affirmative, Five-Two is going to have to answer, I’m UHF receive only.” I responded to Meegs using victor. This is where it was going to get hard. Up until now, I had been able to make most of my radio calls on victor. Moccasin and Vega had only uniform radios, and I would have to relay the info through Joe Bro.
“Two, One, Fox plain. I want you to call when you hear Moccasin call two miles out. That is when I want you to call the number.” I began briefing Joe Bro on when Vega should turn on his signal.
“Let’s go secure.” Joe Bro transmitted; he wanted to talk on our Fox-Mike secure radio.
“OK, have you got me secure?” I replied.
“I’ve got you loud and clear. Confirm the number.” Joe Bro was on another frequency when Buster told Vega that he would use a number off Vega’s ISOPREP card as the sign for Vega to begin signaling the helos.
“The number is three, how do you copy? Number three?” I asked. The response from Joe Bro was nothing but static.
“One, Two, fox in the plain I’m not getting you secure now. We’re going to have to find some way to pass that because I don’t [have it].” Joe Bro was saying that the secure function on his radio had failed. I had to figure out how to get him the number three without compromising it on a nonsecure frequency.
“Ok, I’ve got it. If I’m pulling supervisor what am I called?” One of my additional duties back at the squadron was pulling supervisor duty during flying operations. The Air Force calls this job “top three,” because, by regulation, only the top-three positions in the squadron are permitted to be supervisor.
“OK, gotcha,” Joe Bro responded, indicating he understood.
“OK,” I directed, “check Moccasin in on this freq.” We had not yet spoken to the helos, and I wanted to make sure they recognized Joe Bro’s voice and knew who the OSC was.
“Moccasin, Sandy Five-Two, SAR bravo.”
“Sandy, this is Moccasin. Go ahead, sir.”
“OK. Like a two-mile out call.”
“Moccasin copies, two miles out.”
“Two, One. I want you to check in Vega. Make sure he is still there.” Now that we had coordinated with the helos, I realized that we hadn’t heard from Vega in quite a while. I wanted to make sure nothing had happened to him.
“Vega, Sandy Five-Two.”
“Sandy Five-Two, Vega Three-One.”
“OK, got you loud and clear. Stand by for my number.” Everything was going great. Maybe this wouldn’t be that hard after all. Before I could even crack a smile, Moccasin broke in.
“Climb! Climb! Climb!” Moccasin was flying low-level at night across unfamiliar enemy territory. Electrical lines suddenly appeared and one of the helos had directed they climb immediately to avoid them.
Joe Bro broke in, “I’ve got a weird looking smoke trail to the west.” I looked to the west and saw it as well. Having never seen anything like that before, I assumed it was a SAM the Serbs had snuck in to the west of us.
“Copy, we might have to fight our way out.” Even as I was saying these words, the smoke trail continued overhead and into Belgrade. We had seen our first night HARM shot from the F-16CJs. Whew, that made me feel much better.
“OK, Two is spike—Mud SAM 150.” Joe Bro informed me that his RWR showed him being tracked by a SAM.
“One, same, … Five-One defending SAM south.” The SAM was tracking me now. I passed the information to Magic on victor. I hoped he would pass it to the F-16CJs on a separate frequency.
Now we were in the hornets’ nest. We had made it to Vega’s position on the outskirts of Belgrade. The Serbs had been waiting for us to come in with the helos, and now our RWR showed that their SAMs were lighting us up. What was worse, the thunderstorm building over Belgrade was just south of our position. We would not be able to see any SAMs launched from that direction until they broke out of that weather and were right on top of us.
“SAM active BAT 320/32.” Magic informed us that another SAM was active. It was just northeast of our position.
“Sandy Five-One defending SAM east, 280/14 bull.” I was being tracked by the northeast SAM. I put out chaff, checked to see that my pod was working, and turned to put the new threat on my beam.
“SAM BAT 195/25 now reported as active.” The Serbs were turning on their whole SAM belt for us.
“Sandy Five-Two is defending SAM north.”
“Sandy Five-One is Magnum SAM north.” Magnum was the call the F-16CJs used when they fired a HARM. I remembered hearing that, during the first three nights of the war, the Serbs had shut down their SAMs when they heard Magnum. I didn’t have any HARMs on board, but that didn’t prevent me from making the radio call.
“One is naked.” I announced, to which Joe Bro added, “Two is naked.” Naked meant we were no longer being tracked. The SAMs had shut down almost instantaneously. We could then put our focus back on the helos. At least we knew that the Serbs were looking at us and, so far, they had not been able to see or track the helos at low altitude.