Getting Ready: 26th MEU (SOC) training and operations
Once upon a time when you were a teenager, you probably dreamed of driving an automobile. In those days, making the quantum leap from walking or bicycling to bounding in a car from city to city or from state to state surely seemed comparable to getting the captain's chair on the starship Enterprise. Of course, driving a car didn't turn out to give you the freedom you hoped for. In fact, before anyone would let you loose in a machine that dangerous, you took driving classes and driving lessons in high school. Later, you went down to the Department of Motor Vehicles, took a written and visual exam, and finally took a personal examination that tested your driving skills in actual traffic conditions. All of this for the simple right to drive alone in traffic. Or is it so simple? Badly driven cars kill more Americans every year than we lost in all the years of the Vietnam War. To put this more practically: When we're out there on the freeways, we want the other guys in their big, fast machines to drive as well as we do. Reasonable people take the privilege of driving quite seriously.
Now, if an operation as easy as driving has to be so heavily monitored and regulated, you can imagine how the Marine Corps oversees the training and certification of a Marine Expeditionary Unit — Special Operations Capable (MEU-SOC). Just consider how much has to be done before one of these units can be sent cruising about the world, armed and dangerous. Up until now, we've been looking at the structure, personnel, equipment, and capabilities of a MEU (SOC). Seen through those windows, these are wonderful units. But what makes a collection of regular Marine formations really useful is training. More of the same kinds of training that created the esprit and ethos that made these people Marines in the first place.
To give you an idea of how this is done, let's follow the members of 26th MEU (SOC) as they prepare for their 1995/96 deployment to the Mediterranean Sea. I'll take you on some of the workup exercises, and try to give you a feel for the range of missions that MEU (SOC)s train for and how they are examined and certified ready to go. This cruise was to be no normal MEU (SOC) deployment (as if there is such a thing!). As the 26th was getting ready, the war in Bosnia-Herzegovina was coming to a head, and the 24th MEU (SOC) had just plucked Scott O'Grady out of harm's way. It was not hard to see that Colonel Battaglini and his Marines, as well as Captain Buchanan and his sailors, might be headed into the middle of a shooting war.
MEU (SOC) Missions
Today, MEU (SOC)s on both coasts and Okinawa are trained to a single set of standards and missions, which are constantly reviewed and examined to assess their validity in a changing and dangerous world. To support this effort, in 1989 the Marine Corps implemented a set of standard MEU (SOC) training handbooks. These provide a common training syllabus for all MEU (SOC)s. The key to understanding the operations of a MEU (SOC) is to look at its various missions. A quick note about definitions: In the Marine vernacular, "assault" means to forcibly take an objective and hold it until relieved or reinforced. "Raid," on the other hand, means to enter an area, destroy or capture specified targets and equipment, and then return to wherever you started from.
This mission is the traditional amphibious/vertical-envelopment assault so fundamental to the Marine Corps ethos. In the case of a MEU (SOC), this mission could be executed on behalf of follow-on forces, such as Army airborne and/or fly-in units, or perhaps Marine MPSRONs/Army AWR-3 units. This is a forced-entry, "kickin-the-door" kind of operation, and would likely be done very quickly (a matter of days) after the outbreak of a crisis. Meanwhile, the National Command Authorities would likely rush additional amphibious ships with extra Marines to beef up the MEU (SOC).
In amphibious raids the MEU (SOC) would use its landing capability to move rapidly across a hostile beach to temporarily take an objective, and then render it useless to an enemy. Examples might include strikes at power plants, industrial areas, or military bases. Another possibility is the destruction of weapons facilitates capable of manufacturing or storing chemical, nuclear, or biological munitions. Airfields are also viable targets for an MEU (SOC) raid, as are ports.
A specific kind of raid, the limited objective attack is defined as a short-duration raid or assault designed to divert the attention of an enemy away from a larger or more vital operation. This operation is designed to cause a lot of noise and "flash," after which the unit scoots away before the bad guys figure out which attack is the real one. Such a raid might be composed of a single big attack along a narrow front, or a series of smaller simultaneous operations spread over a wider area.
One of the many reasons for having a Navy and Marine Corps is to provide protection for the world's sea lanes. This is more than just a fancy-sounding way of saying, "Get off of my road." Maintaining freedom of navigation in the world's sea lanes is a shared responsibility of all naval powers. Therefore, one of the missions of the MEU (SOC)/ARG team is to help protect shipping against piracy and/or capture by terrorists, such as happened to the Italian cruise ship Achille Lauro in the 1980s. These maritime support missions come in several varieties: First, the MEU (SOC) can provide a security or reinforcement detachment to protect a vessel during passage through troubled or threatening waters. Second, the MEU (SOC) can execute an assault type of mission, to take back a ship which has been captured by pirates or terrorists. Third (quite common in the last few years) is maritime inspection in support of an international embargo. In the Red Sea, Persian Gulf, and Adriatic, Marines have been the key to enforcing a number of maritime embargoes, like the one that helped strangle Iraq back in 1990/91.
Sometimes, when you want to make a point, you act like a "big dog" (large with a nasty growl), show your teeth, and let everyone in the neighborhood know you are bad. This mission is all about acting like a big dog. General Chuck Krulak will tell you that a traditional "Show of Force" is the single most valuable service that an ARG/MEU (SOC) force can perform. Nothing other than a modern version of what was once called "gunboat diplomacy," it is a unique and effective form of deterrence against small dictators and warlords who have more ambition than common sense. When an ARG or carrier battle group decides to park itself just outside the territorial waters of a nation, it sends a message that is both loud and clear. Stay put and keep to your own borders! It worked for Teddy Roosevelt, and it still works today.
Though TRAPs come in a variety of configurations — from simple repairs and recovery of damaged aircraft in a benign environment to full-blown raiding forces equipped to forcibly enter hostile territory to recover injured personnel — most TRAPs occur under peaceful conditions in friendly territory. All the same, MEU (SOC) Marines treat every TRAP like the O'Grady rescue, just in case.
This mission is a variation of the TRAP mission, with the specialized requirement that it is done covertly with deniability. For instance, such an operation might be run in a short-of-war situation, where the National Command Authorities wish to avoid armed conflict. Under such conditions, stealth and patience will probably be more important than speed and firepower. In any case, if the mission is to be successful, the nation whose sovereignty is violated would have to remain blind and dumb.
In the last decade, evacuations have been probably the most common operations that MEU (SOC)s were called upon to execute. A crisis occurs in some far-off land like Liberia or Somalia — a civil war or some other event that breaks apart the fabric of local society. Nothing bad has happened to the Americans in the country yet, but clearly something can or will. With their organic transport helicopter force, hospital facilities aboard ship, and Marines for security, the MEU (SOC) becomes the perfect instrument to extract "non-combatants" from the danger. "Non-combatants" is the military term for civilians, be they tourists or embassy personnel (there are exceptions).
In addition to "civilian" NEOs, we are sometimes asked to evacuate military forces from a hopeless situation in a civil war or other kind of armed insurrection. A good example was the evacuation of the UN peacekeeping force from Mogadishu, Somalia, in 1994. The National Command Authorities usually request this kind of operation after an official diplomatic request. The NEO force then inserts itself into the danger area, makes contact with the unit to be evacuated, and secures a safe perimeter. Once the unit to be evacuated has been reached, transportation is arranged, and the operation is concluded as quickly as possible.
Hostage rescue is probably the toughest operation that a MEU (SOC) can be asked to conduct. If this happens, it will be roughly like the planned rescue of the hostages in the U.S. Embassy in Tehran back in 1980. Though this kind of operation is usually the specialty of units like the Army's Delta Force, if time is critical, an MEU (SOC) may be the only unit that is forward-deployed. Marines therefore train for this mission, utilizing their big, long-legged CH-53E Super Stallions to provide transport. Should tanker support be available (such as a forward-deployed detachment of Marine KC-130Fs), then the mission can be run virtually non-stop thanks to in-flight refueling.
Security operations are like crowd control. You're trying to keep an area safe and operating normally. From the MEU (SOC) point of view, this kind of mission would normally involve the "beefing up" of an existing Marine or other military detachment. Usually this would be a Marine embassy detachment or airfield security force. The ill-fated deployment to Beirut in the 1980s was just such an operation. The difference today is that such a job would probably not be so open-ended, with much more of a "big dog" kind of presence out in the open, where everyone can see it.
Humanitarian operations are becoming a significant priority in the post-Cold War world. Given what a force like a MEU (SOC)/ARG team is capable of delivering in the way or food, water, and medical supplies and services, such a unit is the perfect mobile relief force. Of late, we have seen a host of such operations worldwide. And soon, disaster-relief operations in our own country may become one of the major missions of the MEU (SOC)/ARG teams. As we have seen, when they are in port, the LHDs of the Atlantic Fleet represent the sixth largest hospital facility in the Commonwealth of Virginia. Should a major disaster such as a hurricane or earthquake strike a coastal community in the next few years, don't be surprised if you see a MEU (SOC)/ARG team leading the relief effort.
Back in the Cold War, we used to call this "winning hearts and minds." This rather broad category of mission covers a range of activities designed to build better relations between the U.S. and other governments and peoples. For example, joint training and exercises with local military forces help promote understanding and goodwill with our allies. Or, while making a port call, the ARG commander might open the medical department of an LHD or LHA, with the support of the MEU (SOC) medical department, to the local population to provide inoculations or dental services. Other options include assisting in the building of bridges, roads, and other basic infrastructure and services.
Infantry hates fighting in built-up urban areas. House-to-house fighting is quite dangerous. It can tear the guts out of an infantry force if it is not extremely well trained and very methodical. Marines, with their considerable experience rooting enemies out of caves and urban areas, have a healthy respect for such operations. The Corps' predeployment training program is designed to teach MEU (SOC) Marines how to take an edge into such situations. Called Training in an Urban Environment (TRUE), it covers everything from demolishing walls between buildings to proper movement through built-up urban areas.
Once upon a time this used to be called a pathfinding or pioneer mission. In today's context, the Initial Terminal Guidance mission is designed to provide navigational support to another, larger mission. Usually the task involves inserting onto a beach or into a helicopter landing zone (HLZ) a small team carrying specialized direction finding and navigation gear that assists incoming landing craft or helicopters in making a safe and accurate approach and landing. Even in an era when GPS allows for pinpoint accuracy with split-second timing, there is nothing like someone coaching you in personally.
It goes without saying that having a tap on your enemy's phone is desirable in a war. For this reason, the ships of PHIBRON 4 and the 26th MEU (SOC) have a robust capacity to conduct intelligence gathering of communications and other electronic signals. But sometimes more information is needed. Both the SSES on the ships and SIGINT/EW teams deployed by the MEU (SOC) can generate a vast amount of useful intelligence for decision makers from the tactical level to the National Command Authorities. While much of their equipment and techniques are highly classified, the 26th MEU (SOC)/PHIBRON 4 team can listen to virtually the entire electromagnetic spectrum.
Because of its heavy complement of Marine Force Reconnaissance personnel, SEALs, and ship-based sensors (both active and passive), a MEU (SOC) is an extremely capable force for collecting intelligence. Covert missions of this type might include insertion of teams into hostile territory, perhaps in short-of-war conditions. When the mission is complete, these teams can be picked up without the hostile forces becoming aware that they have been watched. As currently configured, the MEU (SOC) is set up to collect information in any number of other ways. Among these: It can observe terrorist groups (through national intelligence sources); it can monitor enemy road convoys with the Pioneer UAV detachment of the ARG; or it can go in and take human sources.
Over the last half century, offshore facilities that exploit the resources of a continental shelf have become quite common around the world. Oil production platforms of various configurations have also been commonly used by nations like Iran and Iraq as sensor and weapons platforms. Luckily, offshore operations are a MEU (SOC) specialty. To provide a capability to hold these platforms at risk, MEU (SOC)s are trained to assault and, if necessary, render such a facility unusable. By the way, doing this is quite simple. Damage the well head assembly in such a way that it requires complete replacement (which takes time and money), but does not cause a spill of raw crude oil into the environment. It is a touchy job, but one that the Marines have already executed successfully in combat, where it really counts.
In the Marine Corps there is an old saying: "There is no problem that can't be solved by an appropriately sized, placed, and fused charge of high explosive." It is true. Marines have a gift for blowing things up, which makes this kind of mission one of their favorites. As with offshore platform operations, the key is to destroy a particular target without damaging the rest of the neighborhood…or the neighbors.
A MEU (SOC) must be able to accurately call down fire on targets of interest. Modern fire support involves scouting, designating, and damage assessment for offshore ships and artillery, as well as attack helicopters and aircraft. In an age when many of the traditional Marine fire-support assets have been retired or cut back, proper use and direction of what is left will be crucial to the success of the overall Marine mission.
MEU (SOC) Training and Qualifications
It is easy to see that an ARG/MEU (SOC) team can accomplish a large number of missions. Still, this number is — and has to be — limited. The MEU (SOC) concept is successful because MEU (SOC) units stick to doing what they do well! Reaching the level of proficiency required for these missions is hard on a MEU (SOC)'s personnel, and expensive for the taxpayers. Nevertheless, few people who understand a MEU (SOC)'s capabilities would ever question the costs. Especially, someone like Scott O'Grady.
Preparing a MEU (SOC) for a cruise takes time. Each cruise lasts six months, and it takes three MEU (SOC)s/ARGs to keep one forward-deployed full-time. This is why three are on each coast. To support this requirement, the MEU (SOC)/ARG teams work on a fifteen-month cycle that looks like this:
• Refit/Basic Refresher Training (Months 1 through 3)-If there is a period of rest for the personnel of the various MEU (SOC)/ARG components, this is it. During this time the ships can squeeze in a dockyard period to repair and upgrade equipment and systems. This is also the time when new personnel rotate in to replace outgoing ones. Meanwhile, everyone else has an opportunity to take some leave and/or spend some time with the family. Life in an expeditionary unit is tough on the people in it; any time they can get away is treasured. When they're not on leave, or with their families (such time is all too short!), they get "back-to-basics," so they can have their primary skills down pat for the coming workup period.
• MEU (SOC) Workup/Qualification Period (Months 4 through 9)-During this period, the various MEU (SOC) component units come together and learn to work as a team. The ships of the ARG are then added to the training exercises, so that by the end of the process, the entire force functions as a team. Meanwhile, the MEU (SOC) goes through a complete workup and qualification process that is carefully supervised by specialists from the Marine Corps Special Operations Training Group (SOTG).
• Deployment (Months 10 through 15)-The whole process pays off in the deployment phase-when the MEU (SOC)/ARG teams are out on cruise. Because there are seven MEU (SOC)s in service (the 11th, 13th, and 15th on the West Coast, the 22nd, 24th, and 26th on the East Coast, and the 31 st at Okinawa), two or three will be at sea at any given time. For the National Command Authorities, this translates to having one MEU (SOC) always in the Mediterranean, one always in the Western Pacific, and one occasionally in the Persian Gulf.
The key to making this all happen is the MEU (SOC) Workup/Qualification Period. For the MEU (SOC), this is the functional equivalent of a National Training Center (NTC) or Red/Green Flag rotation for an Army or Air Force unit-with the added dimension that it lasts six months! That is a long time to prepare for a cruise that will last half a year, and it takes a toll on the personnel and equipment. Still, the old saying goes, "The more you sweat in training, the less you bleed in war." It is true. The training and examination during this period are incredibly intense. Training and evaluation periods are round-the-clock, and it is rare for the personnel of the MEU (SOC) and ARG to get more than four to six hours of sleep a night. In fact, most Marines 1 spoke with would claim that the workup/qualification period is actually tougher than actual combat operations!
The actual standards and syllabus for this process are spelled out in a document called Marine Corps Order 3502, which was issued in 1995. It lays out the step-by-step procedure for taking a BLT, an HMM, an MSSG, and other Marine units, and turning them into a fully qualified MEU (SOC). At the end of the process, there is a final examination called a Special Operations Capability Exercise or SOCEX. To gain the (SOC) designation for their unit, the MEU must pass every single point in the book to the satisfaction of some very tough judges — both their regular evaluators and folks from the Marine Special Operations Training Group (SOTG), the keepers of the MEU (SOC) syllabus. According to Marines and sailors who have done it before, the qualification process is six months of pure hell, with two really bad weeks at the end!
The initial training phase is designed to pull the various Marine and Navy component units together. The process is much like a pro football mini-camp at the start of training where rookies and veterans can get to know each other. Major events in this phase include:
• ARG/MEU (SOC) Workshop—A "101-level" course for the various component and ships staffs.
• Special Skills Courses—These classes are the specialized training courses that provide the essential technical skills for the various SOC-type missions.
• Initial At-Sea Training — This phase represents the first at-sea merger of the various Navy and Marine components. Much of the time is dedicated to "bread-and-butter" skills like quickly and safely loading helicopters and landing craft, as well as basic amphibious and helicopter assault techniques. There are also several training exercises during a workup, depending upon ship and training range availability.
• Fire Support Coordination Exercise—Since one of the most important and difficult skills required for the full range of MEU (SOC) missions is calling in supporting fire from ships, artillery, and aircraft, there is a special live-fire exercise run to hone these skills.
All of these activities are designed to provide the ARG and MEU (SOC) personnel with a foundation of skills and experience for the Intermediate Phase of training. Much like learning how to walk before you run, the Initial Phase gives you the confidence to do simple things, so that more difficult tasks are possible.
The Intermediate Phase turns the basic MEU into a truly dangerous weapon, the MEU (SOC). The emphasis is on taking the teamwork and synergy developed in the Initial Phase and combining these with the missions spelled out in Marine Corps Order 3120.9. It is a tough period, over three months in length. The Marines and sailors of the various components and ships spend most of their time in the field or at sea. By the time the phase is over, the personnel of the ARG/MEU (SOC) team will be a fully functional — and keenly sharp — combat unit. The following events make up the Intermediate Phase:
• Maritime Special Purpose Force (MSPF) Interoperability Training— This training is for fifty or so members of the MEU (SOC)'s Maritime Special Purpose Force (MPSF — a specially formed team of Marine Force Reconnaissance personnel trained in the more extreme forms of special operations). These tasks include small boat and underwater insertions, demolitions, mountain warfare, and close-quarters fighting.
• TRUE Training/Exercise — TRUE training provides the opportunity for tactical training in unfamiliar urban environments. To enhance its realism and effectiveness, actual cities around the U.S. (such as San Francisco, New Orleans, etc.) are used to provide the Marines with a real-world environment to practice this difficult set of mission skills.
• Marine Expeditionary Unit Exercise (MEUEX)—The MEUEX is the first real opportunity for the ARG and MEU (SOC) commanders to evaluate how well their units are performing. With the assistance of the SOTG, they run the sailors and Marines through a week of continuous operations, one mission after another. It is the functional equivalent of running an O'Grady-type TRAP mission and an amphibious raid on alternate days.
• Gas/Oil Platform and Maritime Interdiction Operational Training — In former years only the West Coast MEU (SOC)s were trained for these maritime missions. Now all MEU (SOC) units are qualified to deal with them.
• Long Range Night Raid Training— Long a Marine specialty, raids against enemy targets are a valuable tool for national decision makers. This particular part of Intermediate Phase training emphasizes night raids with long transits to and from the target.
• Intermediate At-Sea Training Phase — There are one or more at-sea training periods, which are used to practice various missions. The exact mix of missions and training is at the discretion of the ARG/MEU (SOC) staff, and is limited mainly by ship and training range availability.
By the time the Intermediate Phase is completed, the ARG/MEU (SOC) team is almost ready for their final examination, the SOCEX. Before that begins, they are given a short break to catch their breath, do required maintenance, and fix any problems they can.
The Final Phase is long and brutal. During the two weeks of the SOCEX, the sailors and Marines of the MEU (SOC) must prove to the observers of the SOTG that they are qualified for certification as special operations capable.
• Pre-Embarkation Maintenance Stand-Down—A short, realistic stand-down for the sailors and Marines. The idea is to get their equipment loaded and ready as if they were leaving on an actual deployment.
• ARG Advanced Amphibious Training — Just prior to the SOCEX, key members of the ARG staff and ships' crews are given final training to assist with advanced amphibious warfare techniques. The training targets communications, navigation, fire-support operations, and many of the other procedures that make 'gator warfare so risky and dangerous.
• FLEETEX and Special Operations Capable Exercise (SOCEX—The FLEETEX/SOCEX is the final examination and certification for the MEU (SOC) and ARG. Run over a period of days, the exercises consist of a series of no-notice missions, all of which require use of rapid planning and briefing techniques. Each of these missions must be executed within six hours of the reception of the alert order, with only minimum safety margins for weather and other conditions as an excuse for delay. Sometimes the missions are allowed to go to full execution. Other times, the MEU (SOC) is ordered to hold the mission at the start-up point for a period of hours or days, while other missions are run. After successfully completing the SOCEX, the MEU (SOC) and ARG are fully certified as capable of heading out on deployment, and are only a matter of weeks from being sent to a potential combat zone.
• Pre-Overseas Movement—Soon after the completion of the SOCEX, all the unit's vehicles, equipment, and personnel are staged, either to their home base (such as Camp Lejeune, North Carolina, or Camp Pendleton, California) of the MEU (SOC), or the port of embarkation (such as Norfolk, Virginia, or San Diego, California) onto the ships of the ARG.
• Crisis Interaction Requirements Exercise—One of the last bits of preparation for the leadership of the force is a tabletop war game. Keyed to fast-breaking situations, the exercise is designed to hone the crisis-response and management skills of the various leaders within the MEU (SOC), the ARG, and JSOC.
• Area Commanders Brief—The final act before deployment is a series of area briefings for the ARG and MEU (SOC) commanders. Usually these are run by the various agencies (Department of State, Joint Staff, Headquarters Marine Corps, CIA, DIA, NSA, NRO, etc.) in the Washington, D.C., area. Conducted just days before the ARG/MEU (SOC) deploys, the briefings are designed to give the unit's leadership an up-to-the-minute view of the area that they are headed in to.
Getting Ready: The Summer of '95
During the summer of 1995, I made a series of visits to the 26th as well as PHIBRON 4, and had the opportunity to watch the team get ready. It was an exciting set of experiences.
Onslow Bay, Off Camp Lejeune, North Carolina, June 16th, 1995
My first visit to the 26th MEU (SOC) and PHIBRON 4 came during the Intermediate Phase of their workup process. After a short early morning flight down from Andrews AFB, Maryland, to MCAS New River, North Carolina, I boarded a big CH-53E Super Stallion for the ride out to the USS Wasp (LHD-1). Donning a "Mickey Mouse" helmet with ear protection and a life preserver, I sat down on the web seating, and hung on. The weather, while warm and humid, was decidedly raw, with a stiff breeze coming in off the bay. All this was from the tail end of another summer storm, one of many the East Coast had recently endured. On the way out, the helicopter passed over the Whidbey Island and Shreveport, which were standing just a few thousand yards offshore. The ride took only about twenty minutes, and as the helicopter circled into the landing pattern I got my first look at Wasp. It's big! Wasp is to ordinary ships as Australia is to ordinary islands. Moments later, with a swing onto the landing spot, the helicopter thumped down, and I quickly exited. At the direction of one of the deck handlers, I moved to the starboard side of the flight deck, and entered a hatch on the port side of the huge island structure.
After removing my helmet and life preserver, I was greeted by Gunnery Sergeant Tim Schearer, the MEU (SOC) PAO, and Major Dennis Arinello, the S-4 (logistics) officer. Moving to a VIP arrival area, I was hit by a wave of cold air from the ship's incredible air-conditioning/Collective Protection System (CPS). After a round of introductions and quick admonitions about what not to touch, I was guided down into the 02 Level to one of the small wardrooms near the officers mess area. After an excellent dinner of shrimp stir-fried (Wasp's mess specialists are quite good), I was taken to the Flag Briefing and Planning Room, which is adjacent to the Landing Force Operations Center (LFOC), for a briefing by Colonel Battaglini and Captain Buchanan. There I was also introduced to Captain Raymond Duffy, the commanding officer of Wasp.
Ray Duffy is a jolly-looking surface warfare officer, who has spent most of his career in destroyers and amphibious ships. He is especially proud of his current ship, and rightly so, since the Wasp-class vessels are the largest surface combatants in the U.S. fleet. Backing him up was Wasp's Executive Officer (XO) Captain Stan Greenawalt, a naval flight officer who previously commanded a squadron of S-3 Viking ASW aircraft down in Florida. Stan was the gent who watched over the ship for Captain Duffy, and had all the "heavy" jobs where the ship's personnel were concerned. A man of medium build, he kept his office and stateroom on the starboard side of the 02 Level always open, with coffee and wit flowing freely. Together they provided the wide range of skills necessary to run a ship as complex and versatile as the Wasp.
The briefing covered information on the MEU (SOC) and ARG and explained the ins and outs of the MEUEX I was about to observe. The exercise had already been going on for several days; I was to observe one of the simulated missions, a modified NEO of a small combat unit that had gotten itself on the wrong side of a peacekeeping "green line." They were encircled and very anxious. The MEU (SOC) was tasked to get them out. By 2000 hours (8:00 P.M.), the briefing had broken up, and I had a chance to look around the hangar. When I emerged onto the hangar deck, it was bathed in the sickly yellow sodium-vapor lighting used to preserve night vision. Tonight, most of the 26th Aviation Combat Element or ACE was up on the "roof," so that the majority of the hangar bay could be dedicated to laying out the equipment and weapons for the units involved with the mission in the morning. Along with the NEO team, other units of the MEU (SOC) were prepping their gear around the deck of the bay. One of these, a TRAP team, is kept on standby anytime that the ACE has aircraft in the air. This was only a small team, but provisions had been made to have larger Sparrowhawk (platoon-sized) and Bald Eagle (company-sized) units available, should they be required.
As I walked around, I was introduced to Lieutenant Colonel John Allen, the CO of the 26th's Ground Combat Element (GCE), BLT 2/6. John Allen stands in vivid contrast to Colonel Battaglini. While the 26th's CO is tall and lean, with a hard, intense gaze, Allen is shorter and more muscular, with a sunny, humorous nature that belies the concentration going on inside his head. He is always alert. If you watch his eyes, they are always moving, always taking note of details. With a friendly smile, he quietly suggested that I show up for the confirmation briefing that was to be held in the officers' mess at 2200 hours (10:00 P.M.), if I wanted to know more about what was to come in the morning.
I headed back up to the 02 Level, and I found a spot to sit on the port side of the mess area, while probably a hundred officers and NCOs came in and sat down. Most of them carried thermal mugs emblazoned with "USS WASP (LHD-1)" or "BLT 2/6, 26th MEU (SOC)." Moving over to the nearby drink area, they refilled the mugs — coffee for those on the late or mid-watches, fruit-flavored "bug juice" for those who might still have delusions of sleep on this late evening. Many carried notebooks, and some had briefing slides which were clearly intended for use with the overhead projector placed at the front of the mess. Along with that there was a white board, an easel with drawing pad, and a large projection screen.
Promptly at 2200, Colonel Battaglini, Captain Buchanan, Captain Duffy, and the various COs of the MEU (SOC) components marched in, and the briefing began. This was my first experience with the rapid-response briefing format; it was enlightening. Colonel Battaglini quickly laid out tomorrow morning's mission, then turned the floor over to a succession of fast-talking briefers. In less than an hour, the following topics were covered:
• Weather—Reported the air, sea, and ground meteorological conditions expected in the morning. At the moment a storm was raging topside. In spite of that, the prediction was for clear skies in the morning.
• Operations—An overview of the planned NEO, with a discussion of the forces to be employed and their planned movement to the objective area — the "Combat Town" facility at Camp Lejeune, used for urban warfare training.
• Evacuation and Recovery Plan—A short briefing to explain how the NEO forces would be recovered in the event of a failure. Contrary to Hollywood stereotypes, Marines are not "do-or-die," suicidal maniacs. On the contrary, they are for the most part highly professional, calm, and thoughtful. They always have a "Plan B," or even a "Plan C"!
• Amphibious Operations (PHIBOPS)—Run by the PHIBRON 4 operations staff, this briefing went over the main points of the landing craft missions that would support the planned NEO in the morning. This included landing of an armored task force and an evacuation force of 5-ton trucks and HMMWVs to remove the trapped unit from Combat Town. The evacuation force would be landed by LCACs from the Wasp, while the armored force of AAVs had already been brought ashore from the Whidbey Island.
• Rules of Engagement (ROE)—The ROE briefing explained the rules under which deadly force could be used. The MEU (SOC)'s normal policy on such matters is to educate all the Marines in the force on appropriate application of the ROE to ensure that use of force is commensurate with the particular situation and the overall safety of the force. Because the NEO was part of a peacekeeping operation, the ROE for this mission restricted the MEU (SOC) to firing only if they were fired upon.
• Mission CO's Briefing—This briefing was conducted by Lieutenant Colonel Allen, who would command the forward elements of the rescue force. Colonel Battaglini would run the overall operation from his command console in the LFOC on Wasp.
• Ground Security Force CO—The ground security force, drawn from troops on Wasp, would be composed of a reinforced rifle company inserted by helicopter into LZs adjacent to Combat Town, and would move the evacuees via 5-ton trucks and LCACs to the Shreveport.
• Task Force (TF) Mosby CO — TF Mosby was an armored task force off the Wasp that had already landed by LCACs. It would provide reconnaissance and screening for the security force.
• LHD Evacuation Plan—Since storm and sea conditions might not allow evacuation to the Shreveport by landing craft, a backup or "bump" plan was developed to bring the evacuees out to the Wasp by helicopter. Details such as weapons safety and stowage, as well as containment of possible infectious diseases and other problems, were covered.
• Fire Support Plan—Since no gunfire support from the offshore ships was planned, contingency fire plans were put into place and made ready. The bulk of supporting fires for the NEO would come from the ACE's force of AH-1W Cobra attack helicopters, armed with antitank missiles, rockets, and 20mm cannon. The 81mm mortar platoon also would be on call if required.
• GCE Communications Plan—One of the most interesting parts of the Confirmation Briefing was the GCE communications plan, which was presented by designating the various radio and satellite communications channels. For example, no less than three satellite communications terminals (sharing one frequency) were to be dedicated to the morning's efforts.
• Tactical Reconnaissance Plan—Even before the start of the Confirmation Briefing, the MEU (SOC) had inserted reconnaissance elements into the Camp Lejeune area, which were feeding intelligence back to the Joint Intelligence Center on Wasp. The intelligence reports were fairly good; the force to be evacuated was staying put in Combat Town, and their opponents were behaving themselves.
• Escort Flight Plan — The commander of HMM-264's flight of four AH- 1W Cobras laid out his plan for escorting the security force's transports into an LZs near Combat Town, and then providing security for the ground forces during the evacuation. Bump plans and the procedures for rearming and refueling the Cobras (aboard Shreveport if required) were laid out.
• Air Boss/Department Plan—The head of Wasp's Air Department, Commander Frank Verhofstadt (also known as the "Air Boss"), laid out the air department plan for the following day. This included the side numbers of the primary and bump aircraft, as well as the spotting plan for the flight deck during various phases during the day.
• Logistics Plan—The MEU (SOC) S-4, Major Arinello, quickly briefed logistical support for the armored force already on the beach, as well as describing the loads of rations, ammunition, water, and other supplies the individual Marines, or "PAX" as they are called, would be carrying.
• Air Mission Commander (AMC) Plan—The AMC laid out the air plan, showing which units would be loaded aboard which aircraft, and then how the flights to and from the beach would go in in the morning. In particular, safety and divert plans were covered.
• MEU (SOC) S-6 (Communications) Plan—The detailed communications plan for the ARG and MEU (SOC) was laid out and checked for compatibility with the plan of the GCE.
• TRAP Commander Plan-Though no TRAP mission was yet required or anticipated, a platoon-sized TRAP team with two CH-46E Sea Knights would stand by just in case. Also, the contingency plans for the Sparrowhawk and Bald Eagle units were quickly covered.
• MEU (SOC) Medical Plan—The MEU (SOC) medical officer laid out his plans for handling the members of the evacuee unit, as well as any Marine/Navy casualties that might occur as a result of the NEO mission.
• ARG/LHD Surgeon Plan—The head of Wasp's medical department ran down the status of his facilities, including available bed space, as well as the condition of the various operating theaters. As expected, all were ready and primed, with only minor bed cases currently residing aboard.
The entire briefing was finished in less than forty-five minutes, with the briefers only speaking if there had been a change from standing procedures. The speakers each spent an average of less than ninety seconds over their viewgraph slides. Finally, Colonel Battaglini and Captain Buchanan stood up to re-emphasize that this was an exercise and that safety was paramount. H-Hour for the security force to hit their LZs was set for 0900 the following morning, and then the briefing broke up.
At 2300 hours, Lights Out was sounded over the 1 MC system, and Wasp took on a nocturnal air. I decided to join some of the MEU (SOC) and ARG staff for "mid-rats." You can tell a lot about a ship from the kind of mid-rats that they serve, and Wasp is pretty good. Some nights it's leftovers from dinner; other nights it's cold cuts and chips. But on nights when something special is in the wind, Captain Greenawalt usually orders up something special like "sliders" (really good cheeseburgers) and fries.
Following a short discussion over the mid-rats, I adjourned to a bunkroom for a few hours sleep. The motion of a ship at sea is quite soothing, and since flight operations were fairly light this evening, there was a minimum of noise from the flight deck just a few feet/meters above my head. Despite the killing heat outside, the temperature in the CPS citadel was almost too chilly. In the background were the noises that you hear aboard a warship at sea — the occasional low announcements from the 1MC system, the hum of generators and the air-conditioning/CPS system, and personnel walking through the passageways.
Aboard USS Wasp (LHD-1) in Onslow Bay, 0600 Hours, June 14th, 1995
Reveille came over the 1MC at 0600 (6:00 A.M.) that morning. Within seconds, there was a bustle of activity in the passageways. Having traveled light for this visit, I only had to freshen up and head to breakfast in the officers' mess to start the day. By 0800 hours, Wasp had gone to Flight Quarters, and had the stern gate down to launch the LCACs that had been loaded in the wee hours of the morning. Since we were only about 15 nm/27.4 km off Onslow Beach, the LCACs did not have to launch until about 0830. As they backed out of the well deck, flight operations on the deck above were temporarily suspended, so that the jet wash from the LCACs would not interfere with the helicopters taking off and landing just a few yards/meters above. Once clear of the ship, the three LCACs formed up and headed for Onslow Beach and the armored unit that was already there to escort them into Combat Town. I was slated to go in shortly with the helicopters.
The day was heating up rapidly, but the deck crews were kind enough to let me stroll about the flight deck for a few minutes before the helicopters started engines. Then, it was time to board the choppers for the ride to the LZ near Combat Town. Donning my helmet and life preserver, I strapped in and we lifted off. It was a beautiful summer day, and as we passed over Whidbey Island and Shreveport, I could see the LCACs making their runs into the beach. Then we were over the beach and the sand pines of the North Carolina coast. The chopper I was in, which was running about fifteen minutes ahead of the security force helos, landed in a quiet clearing. There I was greeted by PAOs from Camp Lejeune and driven in a van into Combat Town.
Combat Town, Camp Lejeune, North Carolina, 0900 Hours, June 14th, 1995
As I arrived in Combat Town, the PAOs warned me to stay in a nearby grove of pines, and to quietly observe what was happening. Precisely at 0900, I heard the distinctive sound of twin-rotor CH-46Es landing in a LZ about a thousand yards/meters away. Within a few minutes, the first scouts for the security force were moving forward to find the evacuee unit. The security force unit was built around "G" or Golf Company of BLT 2/6, which is commanded by Captain Andrew "Andy" Kennedy. As the security force formed a perimeter around Combat Town, Captain Kennedy made contact with the members of the evacuee unit, then made arrangements to get them on the trucks and back to the beach and safety. Around the perimeter, an opposing force (OPFOR), played by Marines from the 2nd Marine Division, harassed the security force. They even fired an occasional blank round to keep things interesting. Meanwhile, the security force commander had finished his coordination with the commander of the evacuee unit (also played by 2nd Marine Division personnel) on the procedures for the move. By this time, Lieutenant Colonel Allen had arrived with his headquarters detachment and set up a satellite communications relay back to Colonel Battaglini in the LFOC on Wasp. Overhead, a pair of Cobra attack helicopters prowled and watched. Soon the trucks and HMMWVs arrived, loaded up, and began to move out to the beach where the LCACs would take them back to the Shreveport. So far, everything had gone according to plan, and seemed to be proceeding well.
Then, a message came through that something was wrong in a nearby meadow. Quickly jumping into a van, the PAOs and I headed there to have a look at what was happening. The folks from the SOTG like things lively in training exercises. So they always throw in a few surprises — to imitate Clausewitz's "friction." What they had done was to orchestrate some "friction" in the meadow for the Marines of BLT 2/6. When I arrived, I saw that SOTG had arranged for one of the 5-ton trucks of the evacuation force to "suffer" an accident. The passengers were spread around the ground nearby, with prosthesis and makeup to make them appear severely injured. With the SOTG judges watching, things began to happen.
Within a few minutes, the first Marines from the security unit arrived. They instantly called into Lieutenant Colonel Allen that an emergency situation had developed, that personnel were "down" and suffering severe trauma, and that personnel from the MEU (SOC) medical team were needed at the site immediately. Since medical evacuation to the Wasp would be required, with at least three CH-46s needed to carry the load, John Allen quickly relayed the request to Colonel Battaglini in the LFOC, and the helicopters were airborne within minutes. In the meantime, the Marines of Golf Battery (the unit of M198 155mm howitzers, already ashore from a previous mission) formed a security perimeter and applied first aid to the accident victims. A few minutes later Navy corpsmen arrived in a HMMWV, and things began to look up for the "injured."
Less than half hour after the first call from Lieutenant Colonel Allen, the three Sea Knights arrived in the meadow, escorted by a pair of AH-1Ws. As the Cobras moved to an overwatch position, the three transport choppers landed and made ready to take aboard their cargo of injured evacuees. That was when when a SOTG observer strode out to one of the CH-46Es and declared it "down" with a mechanical failure. Lieutenant Colonel Allen made another call back to Wasp LFOC, this time to ask for the TRAP team on Alert status, as well as a spare CH-46E to finish the evacuation of the injured.
While the new flight of Sea Knights flew in from the sea, the injured were triaged according to the severity of their injuries. The worst cases were loaded onto the two "good" CH-46s, and the choppers lifted off to take them to Wasp's trauma center. Meanwhile, the Cobras continued to patrol over the meadow and keep the occasional OPFOR patrol away from the meadow HLZ. When the two new helicopters arrive the TRAP team and their mechanics leapt out, surrounded the "downed" bird, and got to work. Within half an hour, the "problem" would be "fixed" to the satisfaction of the SOTG observers, and the wounded bird would be allowed to return to the Wasp.
While this was going on, the remaining "injured" personnel were loaded onto the replacement medical evacuation chopper and flown out of the LZ. With the last of the SOTG-inflicted "friction" dealt with, Lieutenant Colonel Allen began to pull his forces together and withdraw them back to the safety of the sea and the ARG. After the trucks and HMMWVs were loaded onto the landing craft, together with the armored vehicles of the security force, all that was left was to get Golf Company aboard their helicopters and back to the Wasp. With the ever-present Cobras overhead, Captain Kennedy and his men returned to their LZ, boarded the helicopters, and headed home. One of the last units out was Lieutenant Colonel Allen and his command team, careful to make sure that nobody was left behind. It had been a good day.
The SOCEX final examination came the following month.
Final Exam: The SOCEX
The second week of July 1995 was terribly hot and muggy. It was the kind of heat designed to break men — and even Marines. Hot or not, for the members of the 26th MEU (SOC) and PHIBRON 4, it was final examination time. I didn't have a chance to observe this exercise, but word filtered back that they had performed "superbly" and were now ready to head out to relieve Marty Berndt and his 24th MEU (SOC) from their vigil in the Adriatic. But before that, they had one more hurdle to clear — an exercise tacked onto the end of their SOCEX called Joint Task Force Exercise 1995 (JTFEX-95).
Extra Credit: JTFEX-95
JTFEX-95 is a series of joint service exercises designed to try out operational warfighting concepts in contingency and expeditionary situations. The JTFEX-SERIES was initiated in the fall of 1994, and the 26th MEU (SOC) and PHIBRON 4 were to be some of the key players in this edition. Unlike the NEO I observed in June, the 26th would not be working alone; it would be part of a larger joint service force, simulating an operation that could easily take place at the start to the kind of military deployment that we ran in the Persian Gulf in 1990.
JTFEX-95: The Scenario
The JTFEX-series exercises are run through the U.S. Atlantic Command (USACOM), which is headquartered in Norfolk, Virginia: Component units from each of the services are assembled in a joint task force (JTF), which is commanded by the 2nd/Atlantic Fleet battle staff aboard their command ship Mount Whitney (LCC-20). Component commanders are drawn from around USACOM to provide community leadership, and then a mission is assigned. For our JTFEX, the Navy would supply the America CVBG and PHIBRON 4, the Marines contributed the 26th MEU (SOC), the Army donated the 1st Battalion of the 325th Airborne Infantry Regiment (1/325th) from the 82nd Airborne Division at Fort Bragg, North Carolina, and the Air Force kicked in units from a variety of different bases, including F-15s from the 1st Fighter Wing at Langley AFB, Virginia; F-16s, A-10s, and C-130s from the 23rd Wing at Pope AFB, North Carolina, and even a couple of cells of B-1B bombers from Ellsworth AFB, South Dakota. This force would play out a hypothetical war game with an opposing (Red) force. They would have a specified period of time to achieve their objectives.
The scenario to be played out involved an invasion of an imaginary small country ("Kartuna") by a larger, more powerful neighbor ("Koronan"). In many details, it resembled the invasion of Kuwait….but with several additional challenges for the U.S. (Blue) forces — now known as Joint Task Force Eleven (JTF-11). For one thing, other than local land-based air support, there were no nearby bases for the Blue force to use. All the ground forces involved would either come from the sea or be flown in during the airdrop of the 1/325th. Next, the Red ("Koronan") forces were going to be anything but the automatons that the Iraqis had been during Desert Storm.
The Red forces were drawn from Marine, Air Force, and Navy units along the coast of the Southeastern United States, and they intended to fight like hell to keep the Blue forces out at sea. The OPFOR included a Marine regimental headquarters, a BLT (a sister unit of Lieutenant Colonel Allen's) heavily reinforced with additional armor, several squadrons of Marine F-18s out of MCAS Beaufort, South Carolina (simulating Mirage F-1 fighter bombers equipped with AM-39 Exocet anti-ship missiles), several squadrons of helicopters (acting the part of Super Pumas loaded with Exocets), and an assortment of small frigates, submarines, and patrol craft from the naval base at Norfolk, Virginia. JTF-11's object was to liberate the Kartunan homeland and destroy the ability of the Koronans to threaten their neighbors.
The area for this matchup was a region bounded by the Camp Lejeune reservation and some other parts of coastal North Carolina. This was both good and bad for the Blue forces. On the one hand, it meant that everyone on both sides knew the ins and outs of the planned battlespace well. On the other hand, it was an extremely small place to fight a war; there weren't many maneuver possibilities for the 26th MEU (SOC) and the 1/325th. Also, the Koronan forces knew they were coming, and would consequently be alert. The exercise would start on July 18th, 1995, and run some four days.
PHIBRON 4, off the Virginia Capes, Tuesday, July 18th, 1995
The day started for me on the steaming ramp at NAS Norfolk, Virginia, boarding an HC-6 UH-46D for the ride out to PHIBRON 4 and the Wasp. As I rode out over the Virginia Capes, I talked with some personnel from the 26th MEU (SOC) command group who gave me some background on the coming exercise and the challenges the unit was facing. The 26th had only just finished up their SOCEX a couple of days earlier, and their biggest challenge was that they were jumping into JTFEX-95 before they could take a breather. Because of the round-the-clock planning schedule, the command group was showing fatigue from almost two weeks of continuous operation. In addition, there'd been almost no opportunity following the SOCEX to pull maintenance on equipment, vehicles, and aircraft. Maintenance crews were working frantically to make their machines ready. The operations were to start that evening.
As we entered the landing pattern of the Wasp, she was already steaming south for the waters of Onslow Bay, with Whidbey Island and Shreveport in a tactical (triangle) formation. The force was doing over 20 kt/36.6 kph with a bone in their teeth. A few miles ahead, JTF-11 had already started the air campaign against the Koronan forces, with strikes by CVW-1 off the America and various Air Force units against air and naval targets, including some "SCUD" sites in the Koronan "homeland." The air units would have to work smart and fast, for the invasion of the Kartunan homeland was scheduled for the morning of the 21st.
After the helicopter thumped down on the deck, I was met by the friendly faces of Major Arinello and Gunnery Sergeant Shearer and escorted to my stateroom on the 02 Level. As I stowed my gear, they explained that I would have full run of the ship, and would be able to go almost anywhere, and do almost anything I might desire. I intended to make the most of the opportunity. After a break for lunch, the first major event was the confirmation briefing for the 26th's initial mission of the JTFEX-insertion of their reconnaissance and surveillance (R&S) elements into Camp Lejeune. The 26th needed to develop an intelligence picture of what the Koronan ground forces were up to.
Compared with my earlier experience, this briefing was leisurely; it ran over a period of about two hours. Here is a short version: Using three CH-53E Super Stallions from HMM-264, the MEU (SOC) was going to covertly insert fifty-two PAX in ten different teams around the Camp Lejeune reservation that evening. A couple of problems were foreseen: For one, the weather was looking marginal. Tropical Storm Chantal had been beating the hell out of the Atlantic, and was still a threat to our north. Chantal was forcing a cold front down on top of our planned launch position that evening, and weather conditions might get dicey as a result. There was also the matter of the Red (Koronan) forces. The Koronan ground component was composed of a BLT from the 6th Marines, heavily reinforced with armor and artillery. Though the OPFOR had no organic helicopters, their armor overmatch was about two-to-one compared to what Lieutenant Colonel Allen and BLT 2/6 could bring to bear. In addition, the Koronan ground force was commanded by a Marine lieutenant colonel who was reputedly smart and aggressive. To counter all of that, Colonel Battaglini and Lieutenant Colonel Allen had given their personnel carte blanche to their own forces to conduct deception operations and generally screw with the minds of their opponents.
As for the R&S mission itself, the job of the various teams was to position themselves at strategic points around Camp Lejeune and pass their observations back to the JIC aboard Wasp. Nine of the teams would be "eyes"-observation-capable, while the tenth would include a radio-intelligence capability for intercepting enemy short-range tactical communications. It was hoped that these — together with intelligence assets from JTF-11, the America CVBG, and national sources — would shine some light through the "fog of war" that always obscures force-on-force engagements. Some of these other intelligence assets included the ships' SSES spaces, the PHIBRON's Pioneer UAVs from the Shreveport, TARPS imagery from the VF-102 F-14 Tomcats, ES-3 Shadow ELINT/SIGINT aircraft, as well as several new systems that were being tested in this exercise.
For the R&S units, their ROEs were simple: If possible, don't engage enemy forces. They were clandestine reconnaissance teams; their job was to avoid detection by the Red security forces. They could use force only in self-defense. This meant they would be allowed to lay simulated Claymore mines, but they could not use incendiary weapons. According to the insertion plan, the ten teams would board the three CH-53s at 2200 hours, and lift off at 2215. The flight would take over seventy minutes (we were still several hundred miles away from Onslow Bay). The choppers would fly in formation at low level, and would use every deceptive trick available to keep the locations of the teams secret from the Red forces. Should an evacuation be required, a TRAP team would be in continuous standby, and ready to pick up any team from any LZ that they could access.
After the briefing broke up, I wandered up topside to get some air. While the flight deck is usually restricted, there is a wide catwalk along the starboard side of the island where the rules are relaxed; it is a favorite among the crew. This is wonderful place to sit and watch the sea. So I found a folding chair and sat awhile. Alongside Wasp was a fleet oiler, which was shooting messenger lines across the space between the ships to set up for a refueling. At the same time, UH-46Ds were shuttling back and forth from the oiler to the ships of the ARG, lifting and delivering pallets of food and aircraft parts and whatever else the ships needed. All this seemed so bizarre it was almost unnatural — like watching hippos dancing. Bizarre or not, the ability to refuel and resupply at sea sets a great power apart from those nations with only coastal defense forces. These operations went on for over an hour, and only the coming darkness and dinner caused me to break away and head back inside.
USS Wasp, 200 nm/366 km Northwest of Camp Lejeune, North Carolina, 2100 Hours, July 18th, 1995
At 2100 hours, I joined Lieutenant Colonel Allen on the hangar deck to talk with the members of the various R&S teams that were preparing to head upstairs and board their helicopters. For this mission HMM-264 to made ready all four of their CH-53E Super Stallions, so there would be a bump aircraft in case one went "down." As I walked around the hangar bay, the teams were checking their weapons and other equipment, particularly their communications gear. This included a number of satellite-radio and HF sets, which were designed to provide secure communications back to the Wasp. Every team had at least one GPS receiver. Some had Trimble PLGR units, and the rest had the newer handheld Rockwell SLRGs.
At 2145 hours, the 1MC announced Flight Quarters, and things began to pick up. I walked up the ramp from the hangar deck to the island and waited there with the fifty-two R&S team members, quietly sweating in the subdued lighting. As I waited for the engines to start, Colonel Battaglini moved quietly up the ramp, talking softly to his Marines, encouraging them to keep tough and focused on what was clearly going to be a long and hot four day mission in the bush. The order to start engines came at 2200, the teams loaded up, and then the Super Stallions held, awaiting final clearance from the Air Boss. As I watched from the island, I could see the blue flares of static electricity flying off the rotor blades of the CH-53s, looking like something out of a science-fiction movie. Then, at 2215, the three choppers lifted off, immediately dousing their normal red and green navigation lights (they have infrared and subdued green ones for clandestine operations), formed a stepped formation, and headed southwest for Camp Lejeune. As quiet returned to Wasp's flight deck, I headed down to the officers' mess for mid-rats and what I expected to be a fairly early evening.
That all changed just eight minutes later at 2223 hours. Flying low over the water to avoid radar detection by the air traffic control radars at MCAS New River, the three Super Stallions ran smack into a gift from Tropical Storm Chantal. The cold front had moved in over the warm water of the Gulf Stream, and a thick bank of fog had come up with no warning. Suddenly flying blind on night-vision goggles is a very dangerous situation, and peacetime rules require a quick, prescribed response. The three crews went into a pre-planned separation maneuver, formed up again north of the fog bank, and immediately aborted the insertion mission. All of this was done without radio transmissions, to avoid revealing to the Red forces radio-interception units that anything untoward had happened. Less than a half hour after liftoff, the whole force was back aboard the Wasp, pleased that they had safely handled the emergency, but angry that the MEU (SOC)'s entire intelligence-collection plan had just gone into the scrap heap.
Meanwhile, the normally calm demeanor of Battaglini and Allen was showing some cracks. I quickly followed them down to the LFOC, where they sat their staffs down and began to make plans to rebuild as much of the R&S plan as they could. Some damage, they knew, could not be undone: In addition to the situational awareness they would give up because of the absence of the R&S team, they would lose a full day of supporting fires from air strikes and offshore destroyers. At 0200, while everyone was still tensely trying to make the best of a tangled situation, I excused myself back to my cabin to get some sleep. "Friction" had again struck a MEU (SOC) mission. Things were going to get very interesting in the three days left in the JTFEX-95 exercise.
USS Wasp, Wednesday, July 19th, 1995
By reveille at 0600, the folks in the LFOC had come up with a plan to restart the stillborn R&S effort of the night before. Overnight, they had put together an unconventional insertion plan based on the fact that Camp Lejeune was their home base and they knew how it worked. All told, there are over thirty thousand Marines based there, which means that men moving across the base in full kit is as common as the sun coming up. It also turned out that the 26th had left a "stay-behind" counterintelligence team ashore after the completion of the SOCEX, and this was to be used to support the new insertion plan. So, after a few calls on a cellular phone, arrangements were made to re-run the CH-53E insertion mission of the night before that afternoon. In addition, the ashore team was to conduct a covert observation of the Red headquarters and go through their office trash, looking for documents related to the coming operation. These would be FAXed out to the Wasp via a secure link. Finally, the Pioneer UAV detachment on the Shreveport was ordered to run as many sorties as possible to obtain naval gunfire targets for the USS Scott (DDG-995).
By 1800, these measures had been put into effect, and dinner was attended by an extremely tired pool of officers in the wardroom. By now, the BLT and MEU (SOC) staffs had been up for almost thirty-six hours straight, and they still had one more big event to go before this evening was finished — the dress rehearsal for the operational confirmation briefing that would be held the following morning. This briefing would provide a detailed look at the Friday morning assault on the Kartunan homeland. Held at 2000 hours, the briefing went over every detail of the planned "invasion." And it was a complete bust…mostly because the tired young officers hadn't been able to put the necessary time and coordination into their briefing slides. When they were done, Jim Battaglini, a man of few words, stood up and made his displeasure clear. "Get it right for tomorrow," he commanded. At the morning briefing, the ground and amphibious forces component commanders from JTF-11 were scheduled to fly over from the Mount Whitney to review the invasion plan, and he wanted it right. After suggesting that the young officers work out their problems over mid-rats, he left to head back to the LFOC. Then the young officers headed back to their staterooms to retrieve their notes and laptop computers.
Returning to the wardroom at 2315, they discovered that mess specialists had pulled out all the stops…in the form of hot ham-and-cheese-melt sandwiches and a small mountain of French fries. Soon you could feel the energy and morale level of the group change as they munched their way through the coordination problems that had plagued their briefings. As the group broke around 0100 to get some sack time, I wandered down to the LFOC to see how things were going. During the evening intelligence briefing I'd noticed some disturbing trends in the air campaign, and I wanted to talk to John Allen about them. I wasn't the only one to pick up on this situation. In fact, by the time I found Allen, Colonel Battaglini had already started to deal with it. He had called Allen and the ACE commander, Lieutenant Colonel "Peso" Kerrick, for a short talk, and at their invitation I joined them.
Directed by the JTF-11 staff aboard Mount Whitney, the air campaign against the Red forces had so far been a mixed affair. While the Koronan naval forces had been decimated, their air force had suffered less than 30 % attrition in over two days of operations. Worse yet, the simulated force of Exocet-armed Mirages and Super Pumas was making a nuisance of itself, and had just scored a hypothetical hit against the nuclear-powered cruiser South Carolina (CGN-37). Though the missile warhead was assessed to have been a "dud," the battle group commander was extremely upset. Predictably, he was demanding better protection for his ships. What happened was the JTF-11 staff had allowed their air units to be drawn into a personal duel with the Koronan air force, and were failing to keep up with their operational objectives. For instance, several planned air strikes against ground targets had yet to be executed. And this meant that on Friday morning Lieutenant Colonel Allen's BLT might walk into a fight against a force that overmatched his in armor and artillery, and was dug in on the very objectives he was required to take. While Battaglini, Allen, and Kerrick put together a plan to deal with this situation, I headed back to my own stateroom, wondering how all these "friction" elements were going to effect what was happening in less than twenty-four hours on the North Carolina coast.
USS Wasp, 50 nm/91.4 km West of Onslow Beach, 0600 Hours, July 20th, 1995
At 0630 the next morning, I was sitting across from Lieutenant Colonel Allen, and he was showing a thin smile; he had gotten some sleep, and things were looking decidedly better than the previous night. For starters, his R&S teams were reporting in and finally delivering the kind of targeting data he needed to knock back some of the Red forces. In addition, the JTF-11 ground component CO, General Keane, seemed to have finally "persuaded" the JTF-11 staff to remember some of his mission objectives, and there had been air strikes against the planned targets ashore. There were also some excellent results from the surveillance of Red force's garbage. John Allen wasn't the only one looking on top of the world. All around the mess area, you could feel new energy. The 26th had just eighteen hours until the invasion… and there was a feeling that they might pull it off.
By 0900, the officers' mess had been reconfigured to support the mass confirmation briefing for the invasion. It was set to begin when the ground and other component commanders, who were flying over from Mount Whitney, made their appearance. The ground CO for JTF-11 was General John M. Keane, the commander of the Army's famed 101 st Air Assault Division. "Sadly," he didn't exactly make it — another example of "friction." After the simulated Exocet attack on South Carolina the previous evening, the fleet AAW coordinator was convinced that he needed to provide a tighter defensive screen for the JTF-11 naval forces. So he upped the alert level and ROE of the picket ships armed with surface-to-air missiles (SAMs) to "Warning Yellow — Weapons Hold," meaning that attack by enemy air units was expected. A Blue ship detecting a confirmed unfriendly aircraft should shoot it down immediately — the equivalent of shooting first and asking questions later. When the SH-3 Sea King helicopter carrying the component commanders and their staff flew from Mount Whitney to Wasp, its electronic Identification Friend or Foe (IFF) transponder was mistakenly turned to the Off position. One of the escorting picket ships therefore shot it down with a simulated SAM. If the ship's AAW coordinator had been at a lower alert level, he would probably have taken the time to check the JTF-11 Air Tasking Order to see if the helicopter was a "friendly." But in his desire to avoid a strike by hostile forces, he screwed up seriously. The result: When the various commanders and their staffs arrived on Wasp, they were greeted with the news that they were "dead." They were notably unhappy by the time that they arrived in the officers' wardroom as simulated corpses.
The briefing began, and things went considerably better than they did the night before. The plan for the invasion of the Kartunan homeland was clearly laid out: At 0000 hours (midnight) that night, elements of the 26th MEU (SOC) would land inshore from Onslow Beach and along the New River inlet. The key to success was the capture of a causeway bridge and several strategic road junctions. This was to be accomplished in some innovative ways. Whidbey Island and Shreveport would be landing their armored task force in the inlet. The task force would use the AAVs as riverine gunboats to dominate this natural barrier through the middle of Camp Lejeune. Following them up the inlet would be a rifle company in the rubber raider craft. The company would take the northern part of the inlet. Another company would then be landed inland by helicopter to block the approaches to the landing beach near the point of the inlet. When this was done, the rest of the heavy equipment would be brought ashore on the LCACs.
As this operation proceeded, the 1/325th from the 82nd Airborne would parachute onto an airfield a few miles/kilometers inland, to provide a base for follow-on fly-in units. This would be followed by a helicopter insertion into a LZ to support the amphibious landings. There would also be a series of deception operations — such as the temporary unloading of the portable toilets into a dummy LZ — to encourage the Red forces to believe that the landing would be occurring at the easternside of the training area. With luck, the Red forces would be drawn there. By the way, don't laugh at the portable toilets scam. Even though we were in a "war," EPA and DoD regulations about waste disposal still applied.
After the briefing broke up, I headed over to the LFOC to see how the war was going. When I arrived, it was clear that the 26th was now playing "their" game with the Koronan forces. The Red force command and control capabilities were down to less than 50 % effectiveness, their navy was out, and the JTF-11 staff was successfully using their airpower: The OPFOR air forces were also down under 50 %. Just to make sure that enough sorties went against ground targets, Colonel Battaglini had arranged for extra air strikes by VMA-231 AV-8B Harrier IIs from MCAS Cherry Point. The Harriers had been left home for this exercise and the SOCEX to prepare for the coming deployment, but were called in now to provide the 26th with some "Marine" airpower that they could depend upon! By noon, the VMA-231 Harriers had flown their first strikes. I spent the afternoon visiting the LFOC and spending time on the portside island catwalk enjoying the peace before the storm. After dinner, I watched Wasp's combat cargo crews load the LCACs and helicopters with Dennis Arinello for the first wave that would leave at 0000 hours.
Well Deck of the USS Wasp, 0000 Hours, July 21st, 1995
The LCACs would go in on the first wave of the invasion. These craft would carry the LAR/CAAT team to the beach as a covering force for the units that would follow. If all went well, the full combat power of the 26th would be ashore before sunrise (about 0600 hours) and then off-load the rest of the equipment ASAP after that. There was more than just a desire for combat efficiency involved by now; this landing meant that however JTFEX-95 came out, they would be home shortly. As the earsplitting whine from the LCACs faded into the distance, you could hear the 1 MC announce Flight Quarters. Then the first wave of four AH-1W Cobra attack helicopters was launched, along with a UH-1N Huey with John Allen and his staff aboard. Things were getting busy, and would stay that way through the night. But for now, I went back to my stateroom to catch a few winks before reveille.
USS Wasp, 0600 Hours, July 21st, 1995
I was already awake when the 1 MC blared its wake-up greeting at 0600, a sign that I was getting into the routine aboard ship. After a quick breakfast, I headed down to the LFOC one last time to see how things were going. It turned out that I was too late. By midday, the main Red force units had been engaged and defeated by BLT 2/6. The battle would continue for another twenty-four hours to completely secure the objectives, but it was a total victory for the 26th MEU (SOC). Everything was over before the sun set the next day. Despite problems with the close air support at H-Hour, and a breakdown in communications with the R&S teams, all the landings had gone as planned. Early on contact with the Koronan forces had been surprisingly light. We learned later that many of the Red force artillery pieces, tanks, and other armored vehicles had been knocked out by the last-minute air strikes and offshore destroyer gunfire. The airdrop by the 82nd Airborne's 1/325th had also gone well.
By 0800, it was time to get ready to board a CH-46 for a ride into the landing beach area. Before I left, I took a small side trip to the logistics center, where an extremely fatigued Dennis Arinello was trying to stay awake for the six hours he needed to get the ships unloaded. Wishing him good luck and a good night's sleep, I headed upstairs, and boarded the Sea Knight for the ride in. As I passed over Whidbey Island and Shreveport, I could see the LCACs and one of the LCUs moving in and out from the beach to unload the ships of the ARG. As the Bullfrog landed, I was picked up again by the Camp Lejeune PAOs. With the taking of the airfield by the airborne troopers and the seizure of the port facility and beach by the Marines, a hypothetical liberation of Kartuna would now be possible.
By noon the next day, the JTFEX-95 observers would issue a "change of mission" order, and the exercise would be concluded. While it had not been pretty, the 26th had performed superbly, adapting well to the many problems thrown at them. Best of all, the 26th MEU (SOC) and PHIBRON 4 could now concentrate on getting ready for their deployment to the Mediterranean, some five weeks away. Before I left, I made a promise to Colonel Battaglini to visit his unit while they were deployed.
Monday, August 28th, 1995, Norfolk Naval Station and Amphibious Base, Little Creek, Virginia
Less than a month after the end of JTFEX-95, I was back at Camp Lejeune, N.C. to witness the culmination of six months work for Jim Battaglini, C.C. Buchanan, John Allen, and all the other members of the 26th MEU (SOC)/PHIBRON 4 team: deployment. It was planned to occur just prior to Labor Day. Deployment is a process that sees the men and women of the ARG and the MEU (SOC) severing their ties from the land and their families, and boarding their "second home," the ships of the ARG. The day dawned rainy and decidedly ugly as the warships of the USS America (CV-66) carrier battle group (CVBG) and PHIBRON 4 got underway. A heavy thunderstorm was moving up from the south, and just getting under way was becoming quite a challenge. For the ships of the ARG, it involved heading out over the underwater automobile tunnels of the Chesapeake Bay, taking a hard right at the Virginia Capes, and heading south for Onslow Bay. During the transit, Captain Buchanan had the ships' crews stow everything possible away, because in the morning, they would be taking aboard the entire aircraft, vehicle, equipment, and personnel load of the 26th MEU (SOC).
Tuesday, August 29th, 1995, 0500 Hours, Marine Corps Air Station, New River, North Carolina
Deployment day for the 26th MEU (SOC) started early, even before the sun rose. In the hangar bay of HMM-264, Lieutenant Colonel Kerrick and his Marines had risen early to be the first element of the 26th to be loaded aboard the ships. Seeing that this was to be the largest ACE ever deployed by an MEU (SOC), some thought had gone into the effort, and now HMM-264 would get a chance to see if their plan would work. Around the HMM-264 hangar that morning, Marines and their families began the ritual of separation, usually over Egg McMuffins and coffee. Wives, girlfriends, parents, and children tried (sometime unsuccessfully) to hold back the tears that come with the start of a six-month cruise. It is a gut-wrenching thing to watch, and brings home the price that we ask of the sailors and Marines that serve our interests around the world.
Unlike the day before, August 29th had dawned clear and cool, a perfect summer day in North Carolina. As the first pink glow of sunrise appeared in the eastern sky over Onslow Bay, things swung into high gear. At 0545, the order was given for engine start of the first group of aircraft that would be launched. This would be a flight of three CH-46E Sea Knights that would start the cruise aboard the Shreveport (LPD-12), which was proceeding separately across the Atlantic. The helicopters began their taxi roll at 0613, and were airborne just five minutes later. At almost the same moment, the six AV-8B Harrier IIs of VMA-231 started launching from MCAS Cherry Point, N.C., some miles to the north. The idea was that the six Harriers would be taken aboard the Wasp (LHD-1) first, and lashed down to their parking spots aft of the island. Then, the other helicopters of the ACE would be brought aboard and carefully tucked into every space that could be found.
For the next hour, helicopters continued to leave MCAS New River in threes and fours, gradually emptying the ramp in front of the hangar. By 0715, quiet had returned to the HMM-264 ramp, and the crowd of ground and maintenance crews made their good-byes to their loved ones, loaded their gear onto trucks, loaded themselves into buses, and headed up to Morehead City for the boat ride out to the Wasp and Shreveport.
Tuesday, August 29th, 1995, 0800 Hours, BLT 2/6 Headquarters and Barracks Area, Camp Lejeune, North Carolina
Back at Camp Lejeune, Lieutenant Colonel Allen and his headquarters team were doing their own version of what had just occurred at MCAS New River. Down at the barracks for BLT 2/6, the various companies were sorting themselves out, and loading up. Amid crying women and children, last hugs and kisses, the Marines loaded up onto their buses, and began the trip up to Morehead City, where they would ride out to the Wasp and Shreveport. When the last of the buses was loaded, Lieutenant Colonel Allen walked over to his office one last time, and loaded up his briefcase. Wishing good luck to the remaining office staff closing up BLT 2/6 headquarters that day, he happily grabbed his bags and headed down the stairs, commander of his own battalion for one last cruise before heading up to Washington, D.C., to become General Krulak's aide in the Spring of 1996. All around Camp Lejeune, there was the bustle that comes with deployment day for a unit. Over in the headquarters of the 26th MSSG, Lieutenant Colonel Cooper had already pre-loaded much of his equipment, personnel, and supplies on the ships up in Norfolk, so this day was a little less manic for him than his GCE and ACE counterparts.
Tuesday, August 29th, 1995, 0900 Hours, 26th MEU (SOC) Headquarters, Camp Lejeune, North Carolina
Among the last of the components of the 26th to deploy was the headquarters. Behind the headquarters building, four large charter buses were being loaded along with some of the special communications equipment that the 26th MEU (SOC) would take with it. Sergeant Major Creech was busy kicking butts, and generally making life easier on officers, who had their own families to deal with. At 0955, the move to the ships kicked into high gear when one of the HMM-264 UH-1N Iroquois helicopters landed in front of the headquarters building to pick up Colonel Battaglini. Wishing us a hearty farewell, as well as an invitation to visit the 26th "on cruise," Jim Battaglini climbed aboard for the start of his first MEU (SOC) command deployment. Having already said good-bye to his teenage son, he was able to get on with the business at hand with a minimum of distractions, and you could see the confidence and pride that he had in himself and his Marines. Around the back of the headquarters, the last of the farewells were going on, and the buses were starting up. Our good friend from the 26th's S-4 (logistics) shop, Major Dennis Arinello, was saying good-bye to his wife Kathy and his kids, doing his best to set a good example. Then, with a final set of waves, the bus convoy pulled out of the base, and headed north to Morehead City.
Tuesday, August 29th, 1995, 1100 Hours, Morehead City Harbor, North Carolina
Around noon, the bus convoy pulled into Morehead City. Pulling off to a large concrete beaching ramp, the buses unloaded, and the headquarters personnel joined other members of the unit for their ride out to the Wasp. This job was being done by a quartet of LCUs from ACU-2. In the distance, we could see Shreveport completing her loading farther up the harbor. Supervising the effort on the ramp was Captain C.C. Buchanan in his ever-present blue coveralls. Right now, he was as happy a man as could be imagined, because the loading of his ARG was going perfectly, and everything was on schedule. It was, by any standards, a perfect summer day in the sun. After a short wait, we were ordered aboard one of the LCUs, and headed out on a short journey to the Wasp. With us were members of the detachment which would control the landing craft and beachmaster parties for the ARG. Pulling along steadily, we soon pulled alongside Wasp. As we did, helicopters from the ACE were still coming aboard and being stowed, giving the flight deck the look of a power line full of birds.
As the LCU beached in the well deck, a chief warned us that we would need to be back aboard in thirty minutes if we did not want an all-expense-paid trip to the Adriatic! Properly forewarned, I helped Dennis Arinello with his baggage, and started the long climb up the loading ramps and ladders to his cabin on the O2 level. We slowly trekked around the ship, as over 1,400 other Marines were doing, and could see the transition going on between the land and the "second home" of the ship. Emotions were easing and calm determination seemed to be settling over the Marines and sailors all over the ship. Despite the favorable conditions this day, they were under no illusions as to what the sea could do to them if things got rough.
Then it was time to leave. Bidding Dennis and the others good luck and farewell, we headed back to the well deck. Getting back to the LCU just in time, we headed back to shore. As we did, Shreveport passed us on the way out of the harbor, headed rapidly out into the Atlantic. She looked like a gypsy wagon, loaded to the gunnels with men, vehicles, equipment, and the three of the CH-46s that we had watched take off from New River just eight hours earlier. By the time that we reached the loading ramp, the job was almost done. Before sundown that afternoon, Whidbey Island had joined up with her, and they headed east, over the horizon, to start their 1995/96 deployment. It was hard not to shed a tear, and wish that we were going alone with them. It had been a long, sweltering summer, and we had come to know these people so well.
Thursday, September 21st, 1995, 1100 Hours, Camp Lejeune, North Carolina
The final act of the 26th's outbound deployment cycle came some three weeks later with the return of now-Brigadier General Marty Berndt's 24th MEU (SOC). They were coming home flush from their rescue of Captain O'Grady some three months earlier. The process, almost the reverse of how a deployment begins, is something you have to see to believe. Each unit is staged into their barracks, where an open-air picnic is laid on. Everywhere, bedsheet banners decorated the building and fences around Camp Lejeune, proclaiming the joy and relief of family members waiting for their Marines to come home.
We chose to join in the reunion of the Marines of the 3/8 BLT, which had made up the GCE of the 24th, led by their commander, Lieutenant Colonel Chris Gunther. Their return was a triumph. What said it all was when Gunther, a veteran of over twenty years in the Corps, saw and hugged his wife and kids for the first time in six months. At moments like this, you feel almost guilty about intruding, but the sight is so compelling that you just have to watch. For the next couple of hours, there was a feeling that was like a decompression. With the pressure of a six-month cruise behind them, the Marines began to become human beings again. When things calmed down, we had a few minutes to visit with Lieutenant Colonel Gunther and discuss the deployment. He confirmed that the handover to the 26th had gone well, although not exactly to plan. Normally, the two units would meet at the naval base in Rota, Spain, and spend a couple of days conducting equipment exchanges and data transfers. This time, though, the handoff had been done while under way, and the 24th's port visit had been dedicated to getting ready to come home.
Wednesday, February 14th, 1996, Naval Station Rota, Spain
I kept my promise…but only at the last possible moment.
The previous day, the ARG had "chopped" out of the Mediterranean Sea and 6th Fleet command and had started the long voyage home. But before they could do that, they had to stop and clean up after a hard six months on cruise. The stop was at the Spanish Naval Base at Rota (near Cadiz), on the Atlantic coast just north of Gibraltar. The U.S. Navy uses Rota as a rest and inspection stop for units coming home from Europe. Here all the equipment can be washed down, everyone can rest for a few days before the Atlantic crossing, and U.S. Department of Agriculture inspectors can check for pests or unwanted plants.
Wasp was moored on the north side of the bay, with Shreveport and Whidbey Island on the south side. All three ships had their vehicles out on the concrete piers; sailors and Marines were washing them down with freshwater. On the nearby beaches, the LCACs and LCUs were beached, also getting cleaned up after a busy cruise. In between was a sizable chunk of the Spanish Navy, including their small aircraft carrier, Principe de Asturias. Off the coast, the America battle group was exercising with a British force based around HMS Invincible. Aircraft came and went from the Naval Air Station. There was a buzz in the air from all the activity. As I marched up the brow, I was greeted by a host of smiles. Keeping promises, even little ones, means a lot to military personnel.
Thursday, February 15th, 1996, Naval Station Rota, Spain
The next day after dinner, I was invited to join Colonel Battaglini, Lieutenant Colonel Allen, and other members of the staff for a detailed briefing on the deployment. It should be noted that I have left out some details that relate to operations security issues, but I think you will understand the basic story. The 1995/96 cruise started with a series of joint international exercises around the Mediterranean. These included:
• COOPERATIVE PARTNER—Shreveport and her embarked units conducted this exercise with the armed forces of Bulgaria between September 14th and 18th, 1995.
• ATLAS HINGE—At the same time as Cooperative Partner (September 17th thru 21st, 1995), Wasp and Whidbey Island ran a series of force-on-force engagements with elements of the Tunisian military. This operation proved the validity of Colonel Battaglini's decision to include the platoon of M1A1 heavy tanks in the TO&E of the 26th. Of particular note was a counterattack conducted by the M1A1s at a critical point in one engagement; it really surprised the Tunisian forces. A Tunisian comment was: "We didn't know you had those things!"
• RESCUE EAGLE II—This was the second in a series of mountain/TRAP exercises that have been conducted in Albania. Run between October 2nd and 14th, 1995, Rescue Eagle II saw Marine units off Wasp obtaining valuable high-altitude and small-unit infantry training for the MEU (SOC).
• ODYSSEUS—Simultaneous with Rescue Eagle II (October 3rd thru 13th, 1995), Odysseus was run with the armed forces of Greece. Marines aboard Shreveport and Whidbey Island provided the forces for Odysseus.
• ISRAEL—Early in the fall, the entire ARG/MEU (SOC) came together for a live-fire training exercise with the Israeli Defense Forces in the Negev Desert. Almost two weeks long (October 22nd to November 7th, 1995), this was one of the larger exercises that the force participated in. Following this, the force was given a short port liberty… which had to be cut short because of the tragic assassination of Israeli Prime Minister Rabin. In fact, several members of the armored task force embarked on Whidbey Island were just a few blocks away drinking beer in an open-air cafe when Mr. Rabin was killed.
• BRIGHT STAR 95—One of the longest-running exercises in the world today, Bright Star provides forces assigned to U.S. Central Command an opportunity to exercise in their AOR. It was based out of Cairo West Airfield in Egypt, and the whole of PHIBRON 4 and the 26th MEU (SOC) were involved, along with numerous other U.S. and allied units. Bright Star 95 ran between November 10th and 17th, 1995, and was highly successful.
• ALEXANDER THE GREAT—Following BRIGHT STAR (November 22nd thru 28th, 1995), Shreveport and Whidbey Island ran another exercise with the armed forces of Greece.
Despite the hectic exercise schedule, there was a real-world crisis to deal with in Bosnia-Herzegovina, and the 26th MEU (SOC) and PHIBRON 4 were actively involved in it. During the run-up to the Dayton Peace Agreement and the introduction of the NATO Implementation Force (IFOR), HMM-264's six AV-8B Harrier IIs flew some ninety-nine missions in support of Operation Deny Flight (sixty-three sorties) and Decisive Endeavor (thirty-six sorties) in the Balkans. The MEU (SOC)/ARG was then alerted that their services would be required during the coming IFOR operations in Bosnia-Herzegovina. They were to be ready for any contingency.
The Balkans get cold in the winter, and preparing the force for action involved a major effort. Special cold-weather clothing and rations were delivered to the 26th by mid-November. Because of the multi-national makeup of the IFOR (United States, France, Great Britain, etc.), special consideration had to be given to communications. Numerous hookups were planned around the NATO communications systems. Best of all, the personnel of the MEU (SOC) and ARG now had an Internet link that allowed them to send and receive daily E-mail from home. Along with the obvious materiel upgrades for operating in the Balkans, the staff of the MEU (SOC) ordered additional mine detectors, chains for the vehicles, and a small augmentation force of personnel with skills that might be required for the IFOR mission.
When the preparation was done, the 26th MEU (SOC) and PHIBRON 4 became the IFOR Theater Reserve Force. This meant that during the two months the IFOR ground forces were setting up in their positions on the ground, the ARG would be steaming in wide "doughnut" patterns around the Adriatic. For the rest of the cruise, Colonel Battaglini had to keep his personnel ready and alert. A rigorous drill and exercise program helped, but boredom slowly began to take over. The enlisted personnel started calling the force "the Maytag MEU" (after the terminally bored Maytag repair man in commercials back home). But they worked hard to stay sharp. All the classroom time spent studying ROE, mine detection and clearance, cold-weather operations, and counter-sniper tactics helped. By early February 1996, it was finally time to come home. They handed off to the 22nd MEU (SOC) at sea, and now they were at Rota in the final stages of washdown and reloading the ships. The next day, they would leave at noon for home.
Friday, February 16th, 1996, Naval Station Rota, Spain
By 1000 on Friday morning, Captains Duffy and Buchanan were knocking at my stateroom door. If I wasn't on the dock soon, they told me, I would be riding home the long way! Grabbing my bags, I headed down to the vehicle deck and the brow. Captain Buchanan was not kidding either: At 1200 sharp, all three ships of the ARG weighed anchor, pulled up lines, and promptly headed past the breakwater and out to sea. In less than a two weeks, the MEU and the ARG would have their home-comings at Camp Lejeune, New River, Little Creek, and Norfolk. Once home, they would start the ritual of preparing for their next cruise, planned to start in November of 1996. Colonel Battaglini would give up command of the 26th in the spring of 1996 to become an aide to the Secretary of the Navy, John Dalton. John Allen was headed up to the Commandant's Office at the Pentagon as the Commandant's aide. And after several years, Dennis Arinello was leaving the 26th for a shore assignment.
As for the ships of the ARG, Wasp headed into dry dock for her first major overhaul since being commissioned. For the 1996/97 cruise of the 26th MEU (SOC), PHIBRON 8, comprising the USS Nassau (LHA-4), USS Ponce (LPD-15), and USS Pensacola (LSD-36), would handle the job of transportation. Captain Buchanan planned to retire in 1997, Captain Duffy went to Washington to chair a promotion board and attend the National Defense University, and Stan Greenawalt relieved Ray Duffy as CO of Wasp in April of 1996.
In May 1996, it all began again.
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