I deployed to southern France in the spring of 1999 to support air refueling operations as part of Operation ALLIED FORCE, the Bosnian conflict. I led two tactical communication teams from the 621st Air Mobility Operations Group stationed at McGuire Air Force Base. One team went to Brize Norton Air Base just outside Oxford, England, and the other went to Mont de-Marsan, France, about 80 miles south of Bordeaux. I was a Major then and spent most of my time in France.
Our unit was just one of three Air Force units trained on the new tactical communication equipment, which led to the decision to have us deploy early in the conflict. The painting of Wyle E. Coyote sitting on communications gear hanging in my office is from Staff Sergeant Tim Beard from the team at Brize Norton.
Mission
Operation ALLIED FORCE was the North American Treaty Organization (NATO) response to Serbia’s aggression against Kosovo. The initial NATO response started in October 1998, but the primary air operations began in March 1999. My involvement was to provide communications support for air refueling squadrons in England and France. I was assigned to the 621st Air Mobility Operations Squadron (AMOS) when we were stationed at McGuire Air Force Base in New Jersey as the commander of the Communications Flight. Our unit was one of only three units to receive the Air Force’s new tactical communications suite of equipment. The other units are our sister unit, the 615th AMOS stationed at Travis AFB, CA, and the 352d Special Operations Group (SOG) stationed at Mildenhall AB, England.
Deployment
Our deployment started chaotically. My first team of 22 Airmen left for Brize Norton AB outside Oxford, England. I was going with the second team to an unknown location. We got the initial call for deployment with just 6 hours notice. I grabbed in pre-packed mobility bags, threw in a few personal items, and rushed to base. Then, we sat for another couple hours before boarding a KC-10 aircraft for the trip to England. But this was just a dress rehearsal. We disembarked this aircraft with orders to report back the next day. As we were unpacking the baggage pallet, new orders came down for us to quickly rebuild the pallet and prepare to board a C5 aircraft destined for Ramstein AB in Germany. I knew this was just a staging movement to a final destination.
Once we arrived at Ramstein AB, one of the US Air Forces in Europe (USAFE) communications planners, Major Dave Maher, met me. I had met Dave earlier that year and we would build a mutual friendship over the next ten years, often calling on each other for favors or advice. We left McGuire AFB without our final destination being finalized; the USAFE planner would let us know once we landed. Dave met us on the tarmac at Ramstein AB and told me we were going to a French air base in the south of France called Mont de Marsan. Many of us hoped we were getting closer to the fight, maybe Budapest or Bucharest. But the south of France it was. After a few hours working out the logistics for our team, we spent a short night in Ramstein village before being bussed to Frankfurt for a couple of commercial flights to Biarritz, France and then a drive to the air base.
Now, we have not packed appropriate clothes for commercial travel. So I led a rag-tag group of tired and grumpy Airmen in jeans and t-shirts. We could have been mistaken for a grunge rock band if not for the apparent military mobility bags with us. As was standard practice, we carried our primary bag plus our desert and chemical bags. These giant green bags can hold 3 to 4 uniforms, extra boots, rain and cold weather jackets and pants, helmets, flak vests, weapon and medical pouches, mosquito netting, and various miscellaneous items. They were big and bulky. It’s not the way I like to travel.
We spent the night in a German gasthaus about an hour outside Ramstein. It was late at night, and I was tired, so I did not even know where we were. Given I spent my last two years of high school in this area, I feel like a fool not knowing. Early the following day, we again loaded a bus and headed to Frankfurt to catch a commercial flight to Biarritz, France, via Paris. We had to change aircraft in Paris as we went from international travel to domestic, which meant going through immigration and security. This is when things became interesting.
We went through immigration just fine, but I began to worry as we approached the security check going to domestic travel. I held back Staff Sergeant Jim Rivituso and Master Sergeant Kevin Block to go through just ahead of me. Jim was from New Jersey and had slick, thick jet black hair combed straight back and a matching mustache. He wore jeans, a t-shirt, and an untucked plaid flannel shirt with just a single button holding it closed. He was carrying a large briefcase of our Atropine injectors. Atropine is used to stabilize patients after a chemical attack and looks like large Bic pens with long needles. As the briefcase went through the X-ray machine, I saw the young French security guard’s eyes widen to the size of half-dollars. Through her astonishment, she could barely get the words out to have another guard stop Jim. They roughly pulled Jim aside, thinking he was a drug dealer. Things calmed down once they opened the case and saw the injectors and our military orders. It was humorous, to a point.
Next up was Master Sergeant Kevin Block, who had our communications security (COMSEC) material in another non-description large briefcase with locks. Kevin looked every part of a mature accountant with his round wireframe glasses and rotund appearance. A naturally quiet and reserved man, Kevin stood his ground when the security guards asked to open the case. He rightfully and politely refused. Especially after the incident with the Atropine injectors just a moment ago, the security team became agitated. They demanded that Kevin open the case, and Kevin stood his ground. I produced our military orders and the State Department memo stating diplomatic immunity. They did not recognize the documents and continued to refuse entry. After several back-and-forth exchanges, we had them call the United States Embassy. I was surprised how quickly this was resolved. If memory servers, I think we were delayed by about 30 minutes. We made our flight to Biarritz.
Our next challenge came as we gathered our bags and got our rental vans. As I was in the USAFE logistics center making our travel arrangements the day before, I specifically requested and confirmed four 9-passenger vans. The rental agency said they had them and would be waiting for us in Biarritz. You guessed it, they weren’t. Biarritz is a resort town in Southern France on the Atlantic near the Spanish border. A lesser French Riviera, if you will. So, as we stood at the rental car counter, the only cars available were luxury sedans and sports cars. Not only were the vans to present, but our purchase order paying for them did not come through either. I had to call back to our headquarters to get credit limits increased on our travel credit cards. With 22 Airmen and nearly 50 bags, the agents were eager to cater to us. Initially, we rented six cars, but this was not enough, so we returned to the rental car counter to get two more. Even this was not enough. We rented the last car available, and our eleven-car caravan proceeded up the E5 for the hour-and-a-half drive to Mont de Marsan.