A-10s over Kosovo (illustrations removed)

In Kosovo and during the period from a few weeks after the war started until a couple weeks before it ended, we AFACs were given a fairly free rein to attack whatever military targets we deemed worthy. It was a bold move by Lt Gen Mike Short, commander of AIRSOUTH in Vicenza, Italy, to relinquish control of tactical decision making to the lieutenants, captains, and majors who were on scene and had the best available information. While it was a big responsibility, it was also a godsend and allowed us to kill many more targets than would have been possible under different rules. Our freedom to observe the situation, apply the ROEs, and make decisions was taken away sometime during the last couple of weeks of the war. That change led to the most frustration I experienced during any mission of the conflict.

My wingman and I were on an AFAC mission. We were proceeding from the tanker track into the KEZ when we got a call from a flight of A-10 strikers. They were searching for targets about five or 10 miles north of Prizren, and the flight lead said he had found what he thought were four APCs. Someone next to the APCs had just fired a handheld SAM at his aircraft. He was running low on fuel and wanted to hand the target off to someone before he departed. I led my flight to the target area to take control. A thin, wispy trail of smoke still indicated the missile’s flight path, from where it had been launched to where its motor had burnt out. After receiving a good hand-over brief, I used my binos to check out the area. I had some bad news and some good news for the departing flight lead. The bad news—he had found only one APC; the good news—the other three were tanks, and relatively modern models at that. What a find! I began the coordination process for an attack.

We were near the end of the conflict, the ROEs had changed, and we were required to get permission before we could direct attacks on any target. We had operated with these rules for the past couple of days and found that the approval process could be either quick or take many minutes. We soon learned that the best course of action was to find a target, call in the request to strike, and then search for other targets while waiting for approval. At any given time we would have several attack requests in the process of being approved or denied. When we received permission to strike, we had to figure out which of the targets had been approved and then relocate it—hoping to find it where we had last seen it. I was sure that the details of these targets would cause the process to be more responsive. It was a large group of tanks, in the open and far away from any man-made structure. I was excited and decided to stay overhead to monitor their activity while waiting for approval.

I had submitted my target to the ABCCC guys orbiting south of the border, who passed it to the CAOC in Italy. The CAOC, I was told later, had to phone someone even farther removed from the fight. That person would look at a map and decide either to grant or refuse permission to attack. That person was probably away from his desk when the call with our request came in; my wingman and I waited. There was activity down below. The tanks were about 100 feet from a paved road, and a small white car was parked on the side of the road. We suspected that the occupants of the white car were part of the Serb forces associated with the tanks. The Serbs’ favorite mode of travel appeared to be stolen Kosovar cars. Their early OAF experience had taught them that civilian vehicles survived when convoys were attacked. At about this time a small civilian flatbed truck arrived from the town located about a kilometer down the road. It stopped near the car, and its occupants proceeded to unload whatever it was carrying.

After five or 10 minutes had passed, I radioed the ABCCC folks to see if they had any news. I told them of the new developments and asked that they check with CAOC to see if more information was needed. From the radio traffic that we could hear, KEZ didn’t sound very busy, but one never knew what might be happening in the CAOC. While we waited, I continued to prepare for the attack. I determined the target coordinates and elevation, and checked the winds at our attack altitude. I rechecked our location on a large-scale map and planned where I could hold strikers, if and when they arrived. I wanted to avoid holding a striker directly over a known radar SAM area—that was poor form. I made sure my flight would be ready to attack when the word came down. We spun up our weapons and briefed a plan of action. And we waited.