« em: Maio 18, 2004, 05:26:04 pm »
November 21, 2002
Afghanistan lessons from a 'Buff' pilot
(Editor's note: The following story was written by a B-52 pilot from the 2nd Operations Support Squadron identified by the call sign "Fess Parker.")
BARKSDALE AIR FORCE BASE, La. - More than 20 years ago, I raised my hand and promised to support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies foreign and domestic. Since then, our nation has won the Cold War with the Soviet Union and fought major battles in Grenada in 1983, Panama in 1989, Iraq in 1991, Bosnia in 1995, Kosovo in 1999 and Afghanistan in 2001.
As each conflict came and went, I wondered if I would ever be called upon to make a difference. Each time I was in a job where my unit wasn't called.
Finally, in 2001, I was a B-52 pilot in a front-line unit, but again my unit wasn't called. I watched as our sister squadron deployed last September to take the battle to al Qaeda and the Taliban. I felt pride that the old B-52 "Buff" still instills fear in the enemies of the United States. But I wondered if my efforts over the last 20 years had made any difference. Though serving in a calling, I had never been called.
In January 2002, my turn came. I deployed to a lovely island location. Our task? Maintain a presence over Afghanistan to respond if needed.
A typical mission (26 hours from get-up to go-to-bed) went like this: take off, fly a few hours north and take on 20,000 gallons from a tanker. Fly another couple of hours to Afghanistan. Bore holes in the sky for several hours waiting for a tasking. Turn south and carry all the weapons back to the island. Hours flown: around 17. Distance covered: about 8,000 miles. Weapons dropped: 0. Difference made: unknown.
Our long flights seemed to result in little more than bone-tired crews and hours of maintenance work for our crew chiefs. This went on for six weeks.
At the end of February, we got the first indication that we were indeed making a difference. We received an e-mail message from a group of British special forces soldiers.
They had encountered a force of Taliban and began to negotiate the enemy's surrender. Soon both sides realized the Brits were outnumbered and outgunned. The negotiations began to go badly. Then one of the Brits noticed the contrail of a B-52 overhead. He reminded the Taliban negotiator of the Buff's presence. The negotiations then proceeded smoothly and the Taliban surrendered.
In early March, we supported Operation Anaconda, the most intense fighting encountered so far by American troops in Afghanistan. Al Qaeda fighters had holed up on a ridgeline near the town of Gardez. The Soviets had spent years trying to dislodge the Afghanis from this area with no success. We planned to do it in a few days.
During the early hours of the fight, my crew was tasked to destroy an al Qaeda mortar position. The ground controller spoke in excited tones and urgently requested we strike this mortar. If we took too long, he would likely not be around, he said.
After getting the location, double-checking the coordinates against the positions of friendly forces and clearing the airspace below, we released on the target. In a few moments the ground controller, in a calm and collected voice, said, "Thanks, that did it."
As we returned to base with empty bomb racks, I considered all the effort it took to give me the opportunity to hear, "Thanks, that did it." Thinking about the critical people who put a single B-52 over Afghanistan humbled me.
On our island we had bus drivers, wrench turners, cooks, personnel specialists, security forces, civil engineers and a few aircrew members. Back home we had thousands whose job it was to keep the airplanes healthy and flying over here.
We call my part "the pointy end of the spear." My crew's effort that day was a tiny point on a massive spear, the spear of support of the American people, of the American way of life.
One part of that spear was a bus driver. On the day Operation Anaconda began, my crew headed for our mission briefing. But the usual bus was missing. We waited a bit, then started making phone calls. As the time for our mission brief approached, the phone calls got more heated.
Finally, a bus showed up 15 minutes late. The driver got an earful about the importance of being on time. His name was taken. His supervisor would be informed. This bus driver would have to shape up. Didn't he know there were lives on the line?
A little investigation showed the bus driver was in the 14th hour of a 12-hour shift. While turning in his bus, he got the call about my crew's lack of transportation. He volunteered to extend his shift by about 30 minutes. His effort got our crew to the briefing on time on the day we took out a mortar position. The missing bus turned out to be our duty officer's fault.
The driver showed diligence and self-sacrifice and seemed to reap only grief. Did the airman make a difference that day? You bet. Did he get an "atta boy!"? He should have, but we failed to tell him the importance of his efforts to a ground controller thousands of miles away in Afghanistan.
The driver helped me realize my life had made a difference before that day. I realized my efforts as a civil engineer, instructor pilot and staff officer mattered. It wasn't dropping bombs over Afghanistan that made my life count. It was simply showing up, doing my job well, day after day, year after year. Persistence, self-sacrifice, diligence - that's what made my efforts significant.
How about you? Are you making a difference? Or are you frustrated with your job, your boss, your co-workers, your spouse or your kids?
The lesson from Afghanistan is the same one Paul wrote about in the Bible almost 2,000 years ago when he spoke on the principle of sowing and reaping. Some people faithfully sow in their jobs, in their family, in their church, and in their community, but somehow they feel they always miss out on the reaping part. They look at their lives and can't tell whether their contributions have made any difference. Paul gave us a simple piece of advice: "And let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart."
Are you ready to quit? Hang in there. Are you tired? Keep at it. One day you will reap - if you don't quit.
To the bus driver who picked up my crew that day in March, I offer these simple words from a ground controller in Afghanistan: "Thanks, that did it."
(From Air Combat Command Public Affairs, United States Air Force)
« Última modificação: Maio 18, 2004, 05:35:31 pm por Ricardo Nunes »
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