Heart of the Storm

The Genesis of the Air Campaign against Iraq

Richard T. Reynolds, Colonel, USAF

Volume one of a two-volume series

Air University Press

Maxwell Air Force Base, Alabama

January 1995
Disclaimer

This publication was produced in the Department of Defense school environment in the intere

of academic freedom and the advancement of national defense-related concepts. The view

expressed in this publication are those of the author and do not reflect the official policy or positio

of the Department of Defense or the United States government.

This publication has been reviewed by security and policy review authorities and is cleared fo

public release.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Reynolds, Richard T.

Heart of the storm : the genesis of the air campaign against Iraq / Richard T

Reynolds. p. cm.

“January 1995.”

Includes index.

1. Persian Gulf War, 1991—Aerial operations. I. Title. DS79.724.U6R4

1995

956.704’4248—dc20 94-16836

CIP

First Printing January 1995

Second Printing May 1995

Third Printing August 1996

ii
Note from the Commander of Air University

My predecessor chartered this two-volume set addressing

CINCCENT’s Desert Shield/Desert Storm air campaign. The work was

the assigned duty for the authors, and it joins the more than 30 publications and articles already distributed by Air University Press on

Desert Shield/Desert Storm, as well as many more by other publishers.

When I first read Heart of the Storm, I was—and remain—deeply

concerned about the way people are characterized by the author. 

worry that there was a preconceived notion about who really planned

and built the air campaign.

So, I wrote many of the principal people in Heart of the Storm, sen

them a copy of the manuscript, and asked their opinions. Tha

corre-spondence is filed with the documentation in the Air Force

Historical Research Agency. I must tell you that most of them said

there were inaccuracies, words and events taken out of context, a

definite bias in favor of Col John Warden and his team, and

undocumented flourishing/spicing up in the style of Tom Clancy

While I respect these concerns, I did read the interviews, and I did

cross-check the work.

Heart of the Storm is not the Air Force historical accounting of the

air campaign in Desert Shield/Desert Storm. That responsibility

rests with the Air Force historian, to whom all the documentation has

been given.

I do believe, however, that Heart of the Storm does indeed hav

value for people trying to understand the genesis of the air campaign

and something about complex decision making. It also begins to lay

out in the clear light of day some of the important air power doctrine

issues which we must understand as professionals.

Our Air Force is good and sound. I am confident that Heart of th

Storm, as one perspective, will be read, discussed, and considered

along with the many other pieces completed and—eventually—with

those yet to be done. It will also be tempered with experience, good

judgment, and common sense.

JAY W. KELLEY

Lieutenant General, USAF

Commander

Air University

iii

For Mary,

The wind beneath my wings

v

To preach the message, to insist upon proclaiming it (whether

the time is right or not), to convince, reproach, and encourage

as you teach with all patience. The time will come when people

will not listen to sound doctrine, but will follow their own

desires and will collect for themselves more and more teachers

who will tell them what they are itching to hear. They will turn

away from listening to the truth and give their attention to

legends.

2 Tim. 4:2–4

vii

Contents

Pag

DISCLAIMER . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

NOTE from the Commander of Air University . . . . . . i

DEDICATION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

FOREWORD . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . x

ABOUT THE AUTHOR . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . x

PREFACE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xx

Chapter 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Chapter 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15

Chapter 3 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39

Chapter 4 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4

PHOTOGRAPHS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6

Chapter 5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7

Chapter 6 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 95

Chapter 7 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 113

EPILOGUE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 133

WHAT BECAME OF THEM? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 135

GLOSSARY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 139

INDEX . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14

ix

Foreword

Airmen all over the world felt relief and exhilaration as the war in

the Gulf reached its dramatic conclusion on 28 February 1991

Many nonairmen, of course, experienced those emotions as

well—but for a variety of different reasons. Airmen, long uneasy

about the lingering inconclusiveness of past applications of thei

form of military power, now had what they believed to be an example

of air power decisiveness so indisputably successful as to close the

case forever.

Within the United States Air Force, among those who though

about the uses of air power, there were two basic groups of airmen

The first—smaller and less influential—held to the views of early air

pioneers in their belief that air power was best applied in a

comprehensive, unitary way to achieve strategic results. Th

second—much more dominant—had come to think of air power in it

tactical applications as a supportive element of a larger surface (land

or maritime) campaign.

Thinking in terms of strategic air campaigns, members of the firs

group found their inclinations reinforced by Col John Warden’s

book, The Air Campaign: Planning for Combat, published in 1988

Over the years, the second group increasingly concentrated on

refining specific mission capabilities (close air support, interdiction

air refueling, etc.) that could be offered to a joint force commander

for his allocation decisions. Members of this group rarely thought in

terms of comprehensive air campaigns to achieve strategic objectives

and indeed generally equated the term strategic to Strategic Ai

Command’s long-range bomber force in delivery of nuclear weapons

Both groups found agreement in their love of the airplane and their

search for acceptance as equal partners with their older sister

services.

In that regard, airmen everywhere stepped forward in late

February to receive the congratulations they felt were so richly

deserved. Put aside, for the moment at least, was the fact that a hot

and often bitter debate had taken place within the Air Force on the

eve of Operation Desert Storm over the very issue of the strategic air

xi
campaign and the question of whether air power would be used in

that form. Here was a story to be told, a piece of history to be

recorded. Just how that story would be told was, to my mind, by no

means clear.

In the end, of course, the Gulf War did in fact include a strategic

air campaign, and the very least that one could say about it was that

by so thoroughly destroying the Iraqis’ capability to conduct warfare

it permitted a relatively blood- less war-concluding ground operation

by coalition army forces. The most that one could say about the air

campaign was that it—in and of itself—won the war.

At Air University (AU), where I was serving at the time as

commander, direct involvement in Desert Shield/Storm was abou

as limited as in any part of the Air Force. We had done some early

macroanalyses of air campaign options in the Air Force Wargaming

Center; we had excused some students from their studies at Air

Command and Staff College to act as observers in various

headquarters involved in the war; and—like all commands—we had

sent support personnel to augment CENTAF forces in the desert

Otherwise, we were as detached as it was possible to be—that is to

say, vitally interested but wholly without responsibility. Ou

responsibility would begin when the guns fell silent.

Within that overall context and in the heady moment of self

congratulation by airmen, two thoughts occurred to me: (1) the story o

the Air Force’s development of an air campaign would rapidly

become hazy as human memories began to fail—either willfully o

through natural erosion—and (2) air power’s effect on the outcome o

the war would become increasingly controversial as non–Air Force

institutions realized that their own resources would likely diminish i

airmen’s conclusions were accepted.

AU could now begin to use the capabilities of its Airpower

Research Institute to record the history of the air campaign as

quickly and—above all—as honestly as possible. I knew that if the

story were told accurately, it would not always be pretty

nonetheless, if there were to be any hope of learning valid lessons

from the war, future generations had to have access to the truth. To

that end, I directed three of my best people—Col Ed Mann, Co

xii
Suzanne Gehri, and Col Rich Reynolds—to research and write abou

the Gulf War air campaign and its implications for the future. The

first fruit of that effort, Reynolds’s Heart of the Storm, provides 

candid account of the turbulent birth of the strategic air campaign

plan that proved decisive in defeating Iraq. I am pleased with his

book, and, while it will certainly produce hot—perhaps even bitter—

debate among some of the participants described within its covers, 

am convinced the book adds much to the institutiona

understanding of the Air Force. Additionally, it saves some of us from

the fate Hemingway spoke of in his introduction to Men at War: “A

they get further and further away from a war they have taken part

in, all men have a tendency to make it more as they wish it had been

rather than how it really was.”*

CHARLES G. BOYD

General, USAF

Deputy Commander in Chief

 US European Command

*Men at War: The Best War Stories of All Time , ed. Ernest Hemingway (1942

reprint, New York: Wing Books, 1991), xv–xvi.

xiii

About the Author

Col Richard T. Reynolds is a 21-year Air Force veteran. He has

spent most of that time in fighter operations, with assignments in

Europe and the United States. In 1989, after a tour at the Pentagon

Reynolds was selected to attend Harvard University, where he wrote

a treatise entitled What Fighter Pilots’ Mothers Never Told Them abou

Tactical Command and Control—and Certainly Should Have

Published by Harvard’s Center for Information Policy Research, this

study still enjoys wide circulation in military and civilian circles

Reynolds joined the College of Aerospace Doctrine, Research, and

Education (CADRE) at Maxwell AFB, Alabama, as a military doctrine

analyst in the fall of 1990 and completed his work on Heart of th

Storm in the spring of 1994. Colonel Reynolds is currently assigned to

Headquarters, United States European Command in Stuttgart

Germany, as chief of theater plans.

xv

Preface

My goal in writing Heart of the Storm was to capture, in words, th

process by which a disparate group of people conceived and helped

forge the most successful air campaign the world has ever known

Such a book would give current and future generations of airmen the

opportunity to see, close up, the enormously complex and intensely

personal struggles involved in putting together an air campaign plan

for a commander in chief. The big questions in my mind were, How

can I do it? and—more importantly—How can I do it right?

The approach I used to “do it right” involved interviewing key

individuals in the air campaign planning process at as many levels

and locations as money and time allowed. My colleagues and I spen

over two years with the interviewees, who talked and gestured their

way through the tough questions we posed to them. From this

interaction, I gleaned most of the particulars about people

circumstances, and events that flavor the story.

This methodology is not unlike that of a reporter who interviews

members of the winning team after a championship game. Because

each player has a different perception of what happened—usually

colored by his own exploits—the reporter’s job is to listen carefully to

as many accounts as time and circumstance permit and then piece

together the essence of the game. Even a good reporter, however

often fails to record fine details, such as brilliant blocks, head fakes

and so forth. To those participants whose heroics I missed, I offer my

sincere apology and the explanation that I was just trying to keep my

eyes on the ball.

Two years of interviewing produced over 4,000 pages o

transcripts, which constitute the principal source material for this

book. Additionally—in an attempt to get as close as possible to the

“real story”—I culled the thousands of pages of documents produced

before, during, and after the Gulf War. I had much help in this

endeavor (see acknowledgments) and met routinely with the

historians assigned to Desert Storm research at the Center for Air

Force History at Bolling AFB in Washington, D.C., to square my

findings with their inde- pendent work.

xvii
I had some very high-powered help in this endeavor to get as close

to the real and true story of the genesis of the air campaign as time

and circumstances would allow. Lt Gen Jay W. Kelley, the Air

University commander, undertook the task of sending the completed

Heart of the Storm manuscript to every senior officer mentioned in it

along with the request that they review the book for accuracy. The

agreement between General Kelley and me was that if anyone in this

group found inaccuracies in the book and provided proof of same, 

would correct the errors. No such proof was forthcoming.

What came instead were wide-ranging, almost visceral responses

that mirrored the strategic/tactical debates between airmen tha

General Boyd spoke of in his foreword to this book. Some embraced

the work for its honesty and candor while others condemned it for a

total lack of those same qualities. Some urged immediate

uncensored publication of the work while others were equally

adamant that it never see the light of day. Consequently, Genera

Kelley, a good and decent man who—prior to his arrival at Maxwel

Air Force Base—had no knowledge of this enterprise, was now

entrusted with the unenviable job of deciding whether or not Heart o

the Storm would be published by the institutional Air Force. The

general found himself in the middle of a Texas-sized dilemma. No

matter which way he went on the publication issue, he was certain

to displease someone.

I am happy to say that we reached a compromise. Heart of th

Storm will be published in as-close-to-the-original, uncensored form

as the current dictates of Air University taste and style allow. Most o

the foul language used by the Desert Shield/Storm participants was

edited out. In those rare cases in which a curse remains in the

published version of the book, it is because the substitution o

“expletive deleted” would have significantly altered the meaning o

the text. The reader who simply must have the unvarnished version

of what was said need only review the citations, which are on file

with the US Air Force Historical Research Agency at Maxwell Air

Force Base, Alabama.

Heart of the Storm is by no means a definitive account of the

events that led to the Gulf War. It is merely my interpretation o

xviii
those events, after sifting and balancing them as carefully as I knew

how, with the advice and counsel of some of the best and brightest

people in the business. I sincerely encourage people who have

different views to put their arguments together and publish them as

quickly as they can. They will find no quarrel with me. The simple

truth is, I wanted to give my fellow airmen a readable, accessible

and provable account of the birth of the Gulf War air campaign plan

so these warriors would better understand who they are and why

they learn to fly and fight as they do.

RICHARD T. REYNOLDS, Colonel, USAF

Patch Barracks, Stuttgart, Germany

8 December 1994

xix

Acknowledgments

I am leery of acknowledgments but grateful that you, the reader

have taken the time to stop here and look over the names of the

people who contributed so much to this work. Perhaps your name

or the name of someone you know, is among them. My greates

concern is that I have unintentionally missed one or two or 10 people

who did much to make Heart of the Storm a reality. I hope you ar

not one of them.

The Air Force deserves the first and biggest thank-you for having

the courage to let me research, write, and publish Heart of the Storm

Long may it continue to serve and protect the United States o

America. Although many Air Force people lent their assistance, some

very special individuals come to mind. Gen Charles G. Boyd, former

commander of Air University (AU) at Maxwell AFB, Alabama

endured countless update briefings on the Heart of the Storm projec

and put the prestige of his office solidly behind it, even though many

people said it couldn’t or shouldn’t be done. His oft-repeated

admonishment to “get as close to the truth as you can find it” stil

rings in my ears.

Maj Gen John B. Sams, former commander of the College o

Aerospace Doctrine, Research, and Education (CADRE) at AU, was

responsible for bringing Heart of the Storm‘s initial findings to th

attention of senior Air Force leaders. His early support was crucial to

the project’s success. Brig Gen Ervin C. (“Sandy”) Sharpe, Jr., who

succeeded General Sams at CADRE, went the extra mile on

everything, and his cryptic “YGTBSM” marginalia did much to pu

the Desert Storm research in perspective. I would gladly serve with

him in war or peace—anytime, anywhere.

Dr I. B. Holley, Jr., a retired major general in the Air Force Reserve

and professor emeritus at Duke University, deserves enormous

credit for his part in making Heart of the Storm publishable. H

spared neither shoe leather nor advice in his circuitous walks with

me from CADRE to the Maxwell Officers’ Club, where he scrutinized

every word of the evolving manuscript. On many a hot summer’s

day, onlookers were treated to the sight of this sparingly built

xxi
slightly stooped, white-haired scholar darting from the shade of one

pine tree to another as he made his way to the club, talking nonstop

about what needed to be fixed or removed from the text. I learned

much from this senior statesman of military history.

Maj Gen William J. Breckner, Jr., USAF, Retired, a bona fide

fighter-pilot warrior and combat veteran, gave generously of his time

and talents to make this story worth telling. I couldn’t have done it

without him.

I owe a great debt to Col Edward C. Mann III and Col Suzanne B

Gehri, my research partners, for their insightful interviews and

moral support. No doubt Colonel Mann’s volume, Thunder and

Lightning: Desert Storm and the Airpower Debates (forthcoming), wil

prove more valuable and lasting than my own.

Former director of CADRE’s Airpower Research Institute (ARI), Co

(now Professor) Dennis M. Drew is due thanks for succumbing to

badgering from me and Ed Mann about the need to do this project in

the first place. His successor, Col Robert M. Johnston, inherited a

passel of headaches but coped brilliantly with all of them and made

the book far better than it would have been without him.

The man most responsible for the polish on my prose is Dr Marvin

Bassett. As far as I am concerned, he is the best editor in the

business. (Of course, readers should be skeptical about these

remarks; after all, he got to edit them along with the rest of the

book!) His tiny pencil scrawls all over my drafts have convinced me o

his genius and editing artistry. People who have seen my origina

prose argue that Dr Bassett’s accomplishments with Heart of th

Storm are no less remarkable than those of medieval alchemists, who

purportedly made pure gold from the basest of metals. I suspec

they’re right.

My story also includes a heroine—Mrs Juanita Faye Davis of the

Air Force Historical Research Agency (HRA) at Maxwell. Heart of th

Storm would not have been possible without Faye—not my volume or

Colonel Mann’s. Almost single-handedly, she painstakingly

transcribed the hundreds of hours of interviews we recorded on

audio cassettes as baseline research for this project. Future

xxii
generations of researchers will thank her for the text she so diligently

produced.

Other HRA people deserve mention for their help. Maj Elizabeth A

Sumpter, a reservist, led this ignorant fighter controller through the

maze of historical cataloguing and documentation. Her bosses, Co

Elliott V. Converse and Col Richard S. Rauschkolb, were very

generous with HRA facilities and gave me and my research

associates a secure office space in which to pore over the thousands

of documents that were of interest to us.

Members of the Air Force Office of History at Bolling AFB

Washington, D.C., gave freely of their time and talent. In particular

Dr Diane Putney, a senior researcher, was critical to the

development of Heart of the Storm‘s story line. An unselfish, brillian

researcher, she willingly shared her discoveries with me and my

colleagues in an attempt to nail down what really happened during

the development of the Gulf War air campaign. She has my deepes

gratitude and admiration.

I would be remiss if I didn’t thank all the Desert Storm

participants who allowed us to talk with them and transcribe their

stories. Their willingness to discuss what they saw and heard during

those critical days will be of infinitely more value to the Air Force and

the security of this nation than anything I have written. Among this

group are two unique airmen, Col Bernard E. (“Ben”) Harvey and Co

David A. Deptula. During the buildup and execution of Deser

Storm, Harvey took detailed notes on everything that happened

around him. His efforts proved critical to my work. Anothe

prodigious notetaker during the war, Deptula shared not only his

notes but also his insights and a number of helpful wartime

documents. I owe him a debt that is far too large to repay.

Lastly, I wish to thank several other very important members o

the institutional Air Force. Second Lt Kurt Konopatzke, a banked

pilot who showed up at my door in the fall of 1993 asking for work

quickly became an integral part of our research team. He is

responsible for fleshing out the “What Became of Them?” section

originally suggested by ARI’s Dr Jim Titus. Thanks to him and Dr

Titus as well. Two other significant contributors to this book were my

xxiii
daughter, Emily, who checked my grammar, and my son, Justin

who came up with the idea for the cover design. Since my wife

Sharon, usually has the last word in everything, I thought i

appropriate to thank her at this juncture for her editing support and

understanding during this long and difficult endeavor.

All the people I have mentioned in this section are part of the

institutional Air Force that I love. I pray that Heart of the Storm

however humbly, reflects at least a portion of the promise and

greatness I see in all of them. Any errors or omissions in the work

however, are entirely my own.

*A recent graduate of undergraduate pilot training who is awaiting assignment t

an active flying unit.

xxiv
Chapter 1

Tue/31 Jul 90/Pentagon/Wash DC

Maj Gen Charles A. May shifted uncomfortably in his sea

against the back wall of the lavishly appointed briefing room. He

was in the “cheap seats,” along with other horse-holder two- and

three-star generals and admirals from the different services, each

accompanying his respective chief to a meeting in the “tank.”* As

the Air Force’s assistant deputy chief of staff for plans and

operations, General May was not normally required to attend

these tank sessions, but his immediate boss, Lt Gen Jimmie

Adams, was on leave and, consequently, the task fell to him.

Initially, this tank session appeared pretty interesting. Gen

H. Norman Schwarzkopf, commander in chief (CINC) of United

States Central Command (USCENTCOM),** headquartered a

MacDill Air Force Base (AFB), Florida, was at the speaker’s

podium giving his assessment of the situation on the Kuwait

border to the service chiefs, Gen Colin Powell—chairman of the

Joint Chiefs of Staff (JCS)—and Secretary of Defense

(SECDEF) Dick Cheney.1 According to intelligence sources

within the past 72 hours, Iraqi forces at the direction o

Saddam Hussein were gathering along the Iraqi/Kuwait

border in what looked like offensive combat formations. A few

of the hard-liners in the Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA) even

went so far as to say that there was little doubt that an attack

by Iraq into Kuwait was imminent. Schwarzkopf didn’t agree.

General Schwarzkopf told the group that he felt there was

only a very slim chance that Saddam Hussein would actually

send troops into Kuwait. Most likely, this action was simply a

bluff to extort controls on oil prices and forgiveness of debts

from the Kuwaiti emir and other Arab leaders. Schwarzkop

went on to say that if the intelligence people were right and

Saddam did act, at most he would probably go for the oil fields

*Secure area in the Pentagon where highly classified discussions take place amon

senior officers and civilians.

**Hereinafter referred to as CENTCOM unless it is part of a title (as is the cas

above).

1
in the north of the country and perhaps Bubiyan Island as

well.2 But certainly not the whole country.

Because he was obliged as CINC of USCENTCOM to discuss

what his forces were capable of doing in the unlikely event such

an attack occurred, Schwarzkopf outlined a series of options tha

amounted to little more than sticking a finger in Hussein’s eye

They involved using some highly classified Air Force and Navy

programs to let Saddam know that there was a price to be paid for

going into Kuwait. The general was well aware that he was in no

position to confront Saddam’s war machine directly. The reason

was simple: he had no air, land, or sea forces in place in the

region. Even if he wanted to initiate anything—assuming the

president, Congress, and the Arab states would allow it—many

months would pass before a force large enough to deal with the

huge Iraqi war machine could be assembled and brought into

theater. It wouldn’t be easy—not for anyone.

General May shrugged his shoulders and reached back to

scratch an itch that had been bothering him almost since

Schwarzkopf started speaking. The room had grown warm

from the number of bodies filling it. The general had completed

his briefing and was fielding a few polite questions from the

service chiefs. None of them were throwing any hardballs

today. It was as though by tacit agreement each of the “big

boys” knew he had to go through the ritual of reviewing the

intelligence information and discussing military options with

the responsible theater CINC, but no one with any

authority—including General Schwarzkopf—really believed

they would do anything with it. As the meeting broke up and

the service chiefs mingled and passed papers and briefcases to

subordinates, the mood around the table was “Ho hum

thanks for the briefing, Norm. We’ll try to attend your

retirement next summer.”3 Seven thousand miles away in

sand and darkness, Iraqi tankers were fueling for the push

into Kuwait. When dawn broke, they would be rolling south.

Fri/3 Aug 90/HQ 9AF/Shaw AFB SC

Heat rising off the runway at Shaw AFB in huge

shimmering waves partially obscured the view of Lt Gen

2
Charles A. (“Chuck”) Horner, Ninth Air Force commander, as

he completed final preflight checks in his sleek F-16C Viper

Even though the general’s flight suit was already partially

soaked through with sweat from his walk-around, Horner was

looking forward to flying. It had been a rough night.

He had been awakened at 2:00 A.M. by Col Jim Crigger, his

director of operations, who told him the Iraqis had invaded

Kuwait. Crigger had brought along an intelligence officer, Co

Bill Hubbard, who briefed the general on the details of the

attack and the latest status on the fighting. It didn’t look good

When Hubbard finished his assessment, a grim-faced Genera

Horner listened while Colonel Crigger outlined the actions he

had taken.

An eight-man contingency operations planning staff made

up of Ninth Air Force operations and intelligence officers had

been formed and was working around the clock in the

command-post area. Their immediate focus was on dusting of

operation plan (OPLAN) no. 1307 and determining what forces

needed to be added to or subtracted from it in order to respond

to the current crisis. Col John McBroom, commander of the

1st Tactical Fighter Wing, had been called by Crigger and told

not to stop doing “business as usual” but to be prepared for a

short-notice deployment of his air-to-air-capable F-15C and D

Eagles. When Crigger had concluded, Horner nodded his

approval and sent the two men on their way.

 General Horner didn’t get much sleep after that. He hal

expected General Schwarzkopf to call during the night, but no

call came. When morning arrived with still no word from

CENTCOM, Horner decided to press on with his norma

routine. He was scheduled to attend an accident investigation

board debriefing at Langley AFB, Virginia. General Horner

would fly there himself in an F-16C and on the way practice

dissimilar air combat tactics (DACT) with four Langley birds in

a training area somewhere over the ocean. He was glad for the

opportunity to fly—to do something. This waiting around fo

phone calls was not his style at all.

Teak 01 Flight was cleared onto the active runway, and as

General Horner gave the signal, both he and his wingman

plugged in burners and started their takeoff roll. Despite the

enormous thrust generated by both jets, it took a long time

3
and a lot of runway to get airborne in the South Carolina heat

Climbing out, General Horner eased the back pressure off the

stick and glanced over at his “wingy.” He had to admit he was

feeling better already. These guys were the best in the world

and Chuck Horner knew it. If Schwarzkopf wanted him

in-theater, he had no qualms about going and taking care o

business. No qualms at all.

General Horner’s radio crackled to life. It was the air route

traffic control center with an urgent message for Teak 01

Could he return to base immediately? Horner knew what it

was and asked for a clearance back to Shaw. He was on the

ground 10 minutes later. Not long after, he walked into his

office with his G suit still attached and placed a secure call to

General Schwarzkopf at MacDill. The gist of their shor

conversation was that Schwarzkopf wanted Horner at MacDil

as soon as possible to help the CENTCOM staff prepare a

briefing for the president on viable military options in the

event Saddam Hussein pressed on through Kuwait and into

Saudi Arabia. Specifically, General Schwarzkopf wanted

Horner to lend assistance on the “air part.” 4 Horner agreed

hung up the phone, gathered a few papers off his desk, and

headed back to the flight line.

Fri/3 Aug 90/HQ CENTCOM/MacDill AFB FL

Maj Gen Burt Moore hadn’t had time to catch his breath

since arriving at MacDill from Washington only two months

ago and taking over as the new USCENTCOM director o

operations (J-3). From the moment he arrived, he was

knee-deep in exercises and contingency operations. Before

yesterday’s invasion of Kuwait, most of the Air Force general’s

waking hours had been devoted to Internal Look, a

CENTCOM-wide command and control (C2) procedure

exercise that focused on the defense of Saudi Arabia against a

large aggressor force. Schwarzkopf had been adamant that the

entire CENTCOM staff get on board that exercise.

Thousands of man-hours had been spent fine-tuning the

war plan that went along with Internal Look. However, as the

exercise started in the last week of July, the plan’s

4
time-phased force deployment data (TPFDD)—the documen

that determined how, why, and when forces and materie

would be brought into theater—remained incomplete. At first

this didn’t cause any real problems because, after all, in a C 

procedures exercise, the sending of troops, bombs, and bullets

could all be simulated. However, as actual events in the last

days of July began to bear an uncanny resemblance to those

in the scenario, General Moore and the rest of the CENTCOM

staff began to get a little worried.

And now, things were fast coming to a head at CENTCOM

The whole morning had been spent frantically reviewing war

plans and trying to come up with some deployment options for

General Schwarzkopf to take with him to Washington for his

briefing with President George Bush. Moore had gotten his

guidance from Maj Gen Bob Johnston, the newly hired

USCENTCOM chief of staff. Because he had been there less

time than Moore, Johnston—who had just called—was

anxious about everything.

“J-3, this is the chief of staff. What have you got?”

“Bob,” replied General Moore, tweaking the Marine Corps

general a little bit for his stiff formality, “we are just working

on it. You gave me the guidance 45 minutes ago.”

There was a slight pause on the other end of the phone. “

think we ought to go in and show the CINC what we’ve got.”

Moore replied, more perplexed than irritated, “I don’t have

anything!”

General Johnston ignored the comment and continued

pressing Moore for an immediate meeting with the CINC

“Well, we need to get some spin on this. We need to make sure

we are on the right track.”

Burt Moore moved the phone away from his left ear and

stared at it for a moment before switching the receiver to his

other ear. “Bob,” he said slowly, almost soothingly, “we can do

that, but what we’ve got is going to be in pencil. It’s not going

to look like anything.”

“That doesn’t matter,” said Johnston, a slight edge o

confidence and authority returning to his voice as he realized

the J-3 was apparently willing, if pressed hard enough, to rol

over on this one. “Let’s go on up there.” 5

5
The two men met in Schwarzkopf’s outer office severa

minutes later. General Moore showed Johnston the rough

hand-scrawled figures that his planners—Tom Sewell, Clin

Williams, and others—had pulled out of OPLAN nos. 1002-90

and 1307. Their numbers represented a first-shot attempt a

trying to determine what forces—in what mixture and in what

order—should be sent into theater. As Moore and Johnston

discussed the merits of what had been written, Schwarzkopf’s

exec motioned to them that the general was ready to see them

Moore quickly shoved his note papers inside a manila folder

and walked behind Johnston into Schwarzkopf’s inner

sanctum. It didn’t take long for the men to explain what had

been accomplished to General Schwarzkopf. He was no

impressed.

“What kind of junk is that?” 6 bellowed Schwarzkopf and

threw both men out of his office, telling them to come back

when they had their act together. This process was repeated

several times during the day with the same results. Genera

Moore would go into the office with General Johnston, show

the CINC the latest iteration of a deployment plan, and

promptly get both men tossed out on their ears.

By early afternoon, General Horner had arrived at MacDill

He went directly to the CINC’s office for a quick meeting with

General Schwarzkopf to bring him up to speed on what US Air

Forces, Central Command (CENTAF) was doing. He then

excused himself and went down to the joint operations center

(JOC) but didn’t stay long. The place was hectic, crowded, and

full of tension. Reports and messages were coming in every few

minutes, and action officers were scurrying to get them routed

to the proper directorates for action. It was not a very good

place to think.

Horner made his way through the cipher-locked doors and

out into the narrow, tiled hallways. The interior of the

building, with its sea-green passageways and low ceilings

looked like the inside of an old Navy warship. It even smelled

like one. This was in sharp contrast to the modern, futuristic

and clean outer facade—almost as though two separate

architects, with no knowledge or care of what the other was

doing, set about designing the inside and outside of the

6
building, never dreaming they were working on the same

structure.

General Horner found the back staircase, ambled up the

steps—trailing his hand along the paint-flecked rail—turned

right, and settled in a small room set aside for visiting

dignitaries. At least it was quiet here. He picked up a yellow

pad from among the supplies neatly arranged on the desk and

began writing. Horner remained there the rest of the

afternoon, trying to put to paper his thoughts on how air

power could best be used to help solve the crisis in the Middle

East.7

Around 1800 that evening, General Horner joined Genera

Schwarzkopf in the CINC’s private conference room to listen to

the staff propose options and courses of action. Meanwhile

General Moore paced nervously outside, waiting his turn to go

in and brief the boss—one more time. When the call came

Moore picked up his charts, slipped his dark blue Magic

Marker in his pocket, and walked quickly into the conference

room.

Horner was seated next to Schwarzkopf and looked up

impassively as Moore walked over to the CINC. They had

greeted one another in the hall several hours earlier, when

General Moore was dashing from room to room trying to collect

information on deployments and beddown. Horner hadn’t seen

him since—until now. Moore walked past General Horner and

laid the set of 8" x 11" charts directly in front of Schwarzkopf

He leaned over the table and began to speak: “Sir, we wil

deploy 24 F-15s with a support package of something less

than a squadron of Wild Weasels.”

General Schwarzkopf stopped him before he could get to the

chart’s next bullet and fired back impatiently, “What do you

mean with this ‘24 F-15s’?”

“Well, if you will let me walk you through it here. . . .” Moore

moved uncomfortably to Schwarzkopf’s other side and

continued with his briefing, showing a basic beddown of 24

A-10s, 24 F-16s, and the appropriate number of KC-10 and

KC-135 tankers needed to get the fighters across the pond.

 “I don’t understand that,” said Schwarzkopf, gesturing

toward the chart. “That’s too complicated. I want something

simple.” Moore started to speak, but before he could complete

7
his sentence, Schwarzkopf interrupted him again

repeating—more ominously this time—“I don’t understand

that.”8

Now it was Moore’s turn to be angry. When Genera

Schwarzkopf lifted his hand from the briefing chart, Genera

Moore snatched the chart away and quickly began moving

down the listed items—bing, bing, bing. His voice was shrill

his large face reddened from the strain. Everyone was on edge

Moore went through the entire briefing without further

interruption. When he was finished, there was a long pause.

“I want you to fix this,” said Schwarzkopf, in a firm

controlled voice, looking directly at Moore. “And I want it fixed

now!” With one hand, the general gathered up the charts that

Moore had spread in front of him and said again, “I want you

to fix this, and I want it fixed now! ” Schwarzkopf’s gaze shifted

to General Horner, who up to this point had said nothing

“Chuck, you go with him.”9

General Horner stood up and made his way to the

conference room door. General Moore collected his charts and

papers from General Schwarzkopf, moving quickly to join

General Horner. As they walked through the door and out o

earshot, Horner said to Moore, “He changed the guidance on

you, didn’t he?”

Moore nodded, “Yes, sir, for about the fourth time.”

“Yeah.”10

Moore looked at him, anticipating an explanation, bu

General Horner said nothing else. They walked in silence to

the JOC, where General Moore entered the combination code

and opened the door for Horner. 

The place was just as noisy and hectic as it had been when

Horner first visited earlier in the day. Moore led them to a

small planning room off the main floor and closed the door. He

motioned for his deputy, an Army colonel, to join them. Within

minutes, the room was filled with planners, all of whom took

turns showing General Horner exactly how they derived the

numbers and types of aircraft (both land- and carrier-based

that they used to build the briefing for General Schwarzkopf.

Horner worked with this group late into the night, adjusting

numbers, load-outs, and other peripheral aspects of Moore’s

original plan. They finally agreed on a 15-squadron force

8
structure to slow down an Iraqi advance into Saudi Arabia—i

one should come. Horner’s intent was to establish a day/nigh

level of effort that would attack primarily the resupply—as

opposed to the lead elements—of an Iraqi ground offensive into

Saudi Arabia.11 After the last Vu-Graph was made, copies o

the plan were faxed to CENTAF at around 0300 the next

day.12 Shortly after, Horner climbed on board a waiting C-21

along with General Schwarzkopf and the rest of his party for

the flight to Washington, D.C.

Sat/4 Aug 90/Wash DC

The Lear jet made its approach into Andrews AFB jus

before dawn. Washington was already awake. Large numbers

of cars and trucks, their headlights probing the early morning

darkness, flowed across the bridges connecting Virginia with

the District and Maryland. Schwarzkopf, Horner, and the

others—fatigued from the previous day’s frantic efforts—slowly

stirred to consciousness as the sleek, white jet touched down

and taxied directly to a parking space in the VIP area.

An entirely too cheerful protocol officer greeted

Schwarzkopf’s party with a smart salute as they disembarked

and ushered them into waiting government vehicles for the

trip across town to the visiting officers’ quarters (VOQ) at Fort

Myer, Virginia. The plan was for everyone to catch a few hours

sleep before meeting with the president. It didn’t turn out that

way.

General Horner had barely lain down when the phone rang

and he was told to meet General Schwarzkopf outside for the

short car ride from Fort Myer to the Pentagon. After arriving

they were escorted to the helo pad at the south entrance

where an Army Black Hawk helicopter, its rotors turning

waited to take them to Camp David, the president’s retreat

General Powell and SECDEF Cheney arrived soon after and

climbed on board.

As the door banged shut, the Black Hawk clattered into the

early morning sky and headed north over the Potomac River. It

skimmed over the Lincoln Memorial, banked left, and

continued in an easy climb over Rock Creek Park. The

9
National Cathedral—a glorious 70-year creation of sweat and

stone—slid by on the port side, and then the rolling hills o

Maryland came into view. Not many minutes later, the

chopper touched down at Camp David.

The secretary’s party shuttled from the landing area to the

main house in golf carts. The air was cool and pleasant, with

just a hint of a breeze—so different from Washington

Manicured lawns and giant, leafy shade trees were

everywhere. It was quiet and peaceful. At the main house, they

disembarked and went into a large conference room. Most o

the president’s Cabinet were already there. Secretary Cheney

and General Schwarzkopf took seats at the main table. Horner

sat behind them. The president was the last to enter.

William Webster, director of the Central Intelligence Agency

(CIA), began the meeting with a rundown of events in Kuwait

Schwarzkopf seemed agitated by what Webster was saying and

after only a few moments broke into the director’s monologue

The general contradicted Webster’s assessment of the Kuwait

situation, saying that he had been in phone contact with a

CENTCOM intelligence officer who had been monitoring events

from the roof of the US Embassy in Kuwait as the invasion

took place. Schwarzkopf’s speaking out of turn raised some

eyebrows, but what he said generated a round of discussion. 13

At Cabinet meetings, protocol dictated that only the

president’s principal advisors were allowed the privilege o

open discussion. “Outsiders” invited to the meetings were

expected to speak only when asked by a principal or the

president himself. Clearly, General Schwarzkopf had stepped

out of line, but he was making no apologies. He knew what

was happening in Kuwait, and he was anxious for the

president to know as well. The picture he painted was one o

chaos and sporadic fighting. It was obvious to Schwarzkop

that Iraqi forces had gained the upper hand quickly, having al

but destroyed any organized Kuwaiti resistance. The invading

Iraqis were firmly in control. 

Later in the meeting when Schwarzkopf was asked to speak

he stood up and laid out for the president a single-corps

ground operation, using the XVIII Airborne Corps and a

smaller contingent of marines. He proposed a defensive

delaying action, with no amphibious assaults or airborne

10
operations.14 Schwarzkopf then introduced General Horner

who briefed the plan he had put together with General Moore

and the rest of the J-3 and J-4 (logistics) folks at CENTCOM

the night before: air power would concentrate on attacking

Iraqi resupply lines in order to slow an Iraqi advance into

Saudi Arabia.

From the Vu-Graphs Horner used, the president and the

Cabinet could tell where the various aircraft would bed down

in-theater and what alternative bases they could use if they

were overrun. General Horner made it clear that if they

attempted to throw everything at the lead elements of an Iraq

invasion, the Iraqis would simply run the CENTCOM forces

out of airplanes. In his mind, the best thing to do was to fight

a ground war of maneuver and use air power to cut Iraq

sustainment.15

During this entire briefing, with its many frank exchanges

among Cabinet members, the president said nothing. Only a

the end did he ask a number of questions that showed his

concern for loss of life and casualties—on both sides. 16 A topi

that received some attention from the president was the

possible use of Iraqi Scuds.* Horner volunteered that he had

spoken earlier with Lt Gen John Yeosock, Third Army

commander, about using Patriot missile batteries in an

antiballistic missile (ABM) mode to destroy any incoming

Scuds that escaped destruction on the ground by allied

fighters and bombers.17 That seemed to end the issue, and the

president went on to other concerns.

Over and over, the president kept asking people at the

meeting what the principals of the affected countries though

about what was happening. Secretary of State James Baker

and Chairman Powell responded by talking about what Prince

Bandar, Saudi ambassador to the United States, though

about the circumstances. Bush was not satisfied. He wanted

to know what the principals, not their representatives, though

about the issues. Surprisingly, the president turned away from

*Scuds are surface-to-surface missiles of Soviet origin and are purported to hav

chemical as well as conventional warheads. Two versions were used in the Gulf War

one of which was developed in Iraq. The Iraqi version has greater range than th

standard Soviet missile but a much smaller warhead (approximately 150 pound

versus 500 pounds).

11
Secretary Baker and gave the task of finding out what Middle

East leaders really thought about recent events to his

secretary of defense, Dick Cheney. “Dick, I want you to go talk

to King Fahd. I will call him this morning. Find out what he

thinks about all this.”18

By 1300 everyone but the president’s closest advisors was

excused from the meeting. Visitors not familiar with Camp

David were given a golf cart “windshield tour” of the facility

while they waited for their transport home. Horner and

Schwarzkopf were among them. Not many hours later, the two

generals were on their way back to MacDill and the enormous

problems that awaited them there.

Sat/4 Aug 90/MacDill AFB FL

Dead tired and out of crew rest, General Horner checked

into the MacDill VOQ for a few hours’ sleep before he flew his

F-16 back to Shaw. Thoughts of the last 48 hours flashed

through his mind and made sleeping difficult. Just as he was

dozing off, the phone rang. It was his own headquarters at

Shaw.

“Sir, General Schwarzkopf needs to talk to you on a secure

phone.”

Horner didn’t have a secure phone in his room, so he put on

his flight suit and walked around behind the Officers’ Club

and made his way to General Schwarzkopf’s front door. He

knocked, and moments later Schwarzkopf came to the door.

“JESUS! How did you get here?” asked the general, somewha

startled. Schwarzkopf was under the impression that Horner

had returned to Shaw and had no idea that he was still on base

“Can you go to Saudi Arabia tomorrow?”

“Sure,” said Horner nonchalantly, nodding his head as

though the general had just asked him to go on a small fishing

trip and not fly halfway around the world, leaving his

command just when it needed him most.

“Meet me at Andrews at 0900.”

“Yes, sir.”19

That was it. Horner walked back to the VOQ, climbed into

bed, and slept soundly the rest of the night. He got up early

12
the next morning, flew back to Shaw, and told his wife he

needed enough clothes for two days. She packed a bag for him

while he called Bill Rider, his logistician, and asked him if he

would like to take a quick trip to Jedda, Saudi Arabia. That

done, both men headed out on a C-21 for Andrews in time to

rendezvous with Schwarzkopf in Washington at the appointed

hour.

0900/Sun/5 Aug 90/Pentagon/Wash DC

For a while, it seemed that no one was going to go to Saud

Arabia because of great confusion over whose airplane—

Schwarzkopf’s or Cheney’s—would be used and who would be

on it. Horner sat outside Cheney’s office with General Yeosock

late Sunday morning while Powell, Cheney, and Schwarzkop

conferred inside. They came out, having decided to go on

Cheney’s bird, and left immediately for Andrews. Not long

after, they were airborne and on their way to the Persian Gulf.

As the brightly painted and polished VC-135 climbed ou

and headed east over Chesapeake Bay and beyond, an old

battered Pontiac sedan pulled into the deserted parking lot a

the Pentagon’s south side. From it emerged a slim, sharp

featured colonel. Burdened with books and papers, he

awkwardly locked and closed the door of the car with his

elbow and hurried down the long walk as fast as his legs could

carry him, soon disappearing inside the flat, gray, five-sided

building. No one could have guessed that his entry into the

planning process would change the course of the impending

war and leave generals, secretaries, and even a president in

his wake.

Notes

1. Maj Gen Burton R. Moore, USAF, Retired, Tuscaloosa, Ala., transcrip

of interview with Lt Col Suzanne B. Gehri, Lt Col Edward C. Mann, and

author, 21 September 1992, 25, Desert Story Collection, US Air Forc

Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala. General Moore accompanied

General Schwarzkopf to Washington, D.C., and was present at the meeting

of 31 July 1990.

13
2. H. Norman Schwarzkopf with Peter Petre, General H. Norma

Schwarzkopf, the Autobiography: It Doesn’t Take a Hero (New York: Bantam

Books, 1992), 294–95.

3. Lt Gen Charles A. May, Jr., USAF, Retired, Washington, D.C.

transcript of interview with author, 21 August 1992, 2, Desert Story

Collection, US Air Force Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala.

4. Lt Gen Charles A. Horner, Shaw AFB, S.C., transcript of interview

with Lt Col Suzanne B. Gehri and author, 2 December 1991, 8, Desert Story

Collection, US Air Force Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala.

5. Moore, 21 September 1992, 33.

6. Ibid.

7. Horner, 2 December 1991, 9.

8. Moore, 21 September 1992, 38–39.

9. Ibid.

10. Ibid.

11. Horner, 2 December 1991, 10.

12. The document is in the custody of Dr Diane Putney, a historian with

the Center for Air Force History (CAFH), Bolling AFB, Washington, D.C.

13. Horner, 2 December 1991, 11–12.

14. Ibid., 12.

15. Ibid., 13.

16. Ibid., 15.

17. Ibid.

18. Ibid., 16.

19. Ibid., 16–17.

14
Chapter 2

0905/Sun/5 Aug 90/Pentagon/Wash DC

Once inside the building, Col John A. Warden III, Air Force

deputy director for war-fighting concepts, made his way up the

wide, south-side corridor, passed the second-floor cafeteria

and took the stairs two at a time to get to his office on the

fourth floor. It had been over 48 hours since he had heard the

news about the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait, but—up til

now—there was nothing he could do about it.

Warden had been vacationing with his wife on a cruise ship

in the Caribbean, somewhere south of Cuba, when word of the

invasion was broadcast on the Ocean News Network. 1 He had

been forced to wait another 36 hours for the boat to steam into

Miami before he could get off and head back to Washington

During that time, drinking coffee and gazing into the heavy

green seas that rocked the ship as it slowly plowed toward

home, Warden became convinced that the Iraqi action would

require a US military response. From his years on Pentagon

planning staffs, the colonel was afraid that whatever US

response was offered, it wouldn’t be the right one.

Then and there, he made up his mind to put together a

proposal for an effective way to fight the war and to construct

a strategy to sell that proposal to the people in the civilian and

military chain of command above him.2 Warden was convinced

that the war plans currently in existence were focused almos

exclusively on deployment, with only an occasional mention o

“defending” an area to which forces were deployed. Warden

believed there was no real concept of operations for offensive

action in any of the war plans because Americans never

conceptualized the world quite that way.3 He was determined

to change that.

Warden’s deputy, Col Mike Kiraly, was on leave, so Warden

hastily dialed the next officer in line—Col Mike Dunn. As

Warden sat in his office, Dunn “backfilled” him on what had

happened. Apparently, on Friday the Joint Staff had informally

asked the Air Staff for some “suggestions,” but despite the Air

15
Staff inputs (most of which came from Warden’s directorate), it

appeared that the JCS response was going to be a typica

cold-war, limited-option sort of thing, with no one really taking

the stick and laying out legitimate courses of action for the

national command authorities (NCA). At least that’s how Dunn

and the people in War-Fighting Concepts saw it. 4

Warden spent the rest of Sunday mulling over what Colone

Dunn had told him and sketching out a plan that would bring

together the best minds he could find to work the problem. To

begin with, he would use the Checkmate* people and their

office space in the basement of the Pentagon as the center o

his planning effort. Fortunately for Warden, Air Staff plans to

do away with the Checkmate Division had been put on hold

almost a year ago, when Warden managed to convince Gen

Mike Dugan—then the director of Air Force plans and

operations—to put the organization under his direction as a

kind of Air Force think tank. It worked well. The officers

assigned there—mostly fighter pilots with a sprinkling o

tanker, recce, lift, and other support guys, as well as

analysts—were able to look at a wide range of plans and

contingencies and come up with alternative solutions. Before

Warden got hold of this group, they mostly looked at Soviet/US

confrontation possibilities. Now they looked at everything.

Mon/6 Aug 90/Pentagon/Wash DC

John Warden assembled his “tiger team” (i.e., his bes

people) in Checkmate’s ramshackle and sprawling offices, no

30 feet from the landmark “purple water fountain.”** There

were about 25 officers and enlisted people at the meeting

including all of the Checkmate staff and a few folks Warden

*Checkmate is a unique directorate in Air Force Plans, whose original cadre in 

cluded people like Col Moody Suter, famed fighter pilot/interrogator and friend o

Soviet MiG-25 defector Lt Victor Belenko. The organization is known for encouragin

independent thinking and analysis on important combat-employment issues.

**This is an actual water fountain in the basement of the Pentagon. In the early

1970s, the Air Force officially designated it a “navigation aid.” For years, people used

the fountain to find their way through the labyrinth of the Pentagon underworld

where rooms appear without reason and stairs often lead nowhere.

16
had brought in from the Strategy Division and Doctrine

Division, as well as other places in the building.

As they stood around in groups of four and five, Colone

Warden outlined his overall strategy on a dilapidated

chalkboard. He looked more like a college chemistry professor

than a warrior, as he filled the board with circles and hastily

drawn lines, stopping only occasionally to answer a question

or change a word. In essence, Colonel Warden told the group

that he wanted to put together an air campaign based on the

five-ring approach he had developed two years ago. (After the

Gulf War, this strategy came to be known as “inside-ou

warfare.”5)

Warden’s basic premise was that the modern nation-state

consists of five concentric rings—or centers of gravity—the

innermost being leadership, then key production

infrastructure, population, and—finally—fielded military

forces. Prior to the ascendancy of air power, Warden reminded

the group as he wrote on the board, the only way to subdue a

nation-state was first to engage and then destroy the

opponent’s fielded military forces. Until that was

accomplished, the other centers of gravity (i.e., other areas

also vital to the survival, continued functioning, and will of the

nation-state) would be impossible to reach. With air power, he

argued, this was no longer the case. All aspects of a

nation-state were equally vulnerable to attack and destruction

by air power, from the very onset of hostilities.

In Warden’s mind, leadership was the real key to success or

failure in war. He explained that when an enemy’s leaders

decided they had had enough, they sued for peace—or

someone took power away from them. Therefore, Warden

argued, every action in war should be geared to affecting the

enemy’s leadership, directly or indirectly.

He faced the group and fastened a shirtsleeve button tha

had come loose during one of his wilder movements at the

chalkboard. The fluorescent lights suddenly made him look

pale, despite his recent time on the cruise ship. Severa

strands of hair were sticking up at odd angles, much like the

tousled mane of a boy who has just gotten out of bed. He

rubbed his hands over his face and continued his monologue.

17
Leadership, once the most protected and invulnerable

aspect of a nation-state, is now a lucrative and extremely

vulnerable target. On the other hand, civilian populations—the

unfortunate and often powerless victims of hostilities between

nation-states—can be left relatively unscathed with the use o

modern air power. If for humanitarian or other reasons a

combatant nation chose to bypass the population of a hostile

nation-state and concentrate on different centers of gravity

this was entirely possible. At least it was in John Warden’s

mind.

When he finished with his discussions and drawings, the

chalkboard was completely full. Centers of gravity had been

tentatively identified, and a small number of target categories

suggested by the different groups listening to Warden’s pitch

were already appearing under each of them. Perhaps mos

curious was the fact that during this entire “discussion,

Colonel Warden didn’t order anyone in particular to d

anything. He told the group at large that they needed to get

busy and “flesh out” these ideas as quickly as possible. He

went on to say that he was looking for small groups of people

that could react quickly to changing events—teams that could

produce at the lowest level and do things with little

standardization.6

This came as no shock to the people around him. They were

used to the way he did business and his fondness for the

“chaos theory”* approach to life and work. Besides, people

around Warden understood quite well the premises behind

inside-out warfare. They had worked and debated scenarios

throughout the past year that highlighted the efficacy of this

viewpoint and were eager to apply it to the situation in

Southwest Asia. They got to work and, with little fanfare or

argument, divided the tasks among themselves.

Before Warden called the meeting in the Checkmate offices

that morning, he had discussed his proposal with his boss

Maj Gen Robert M. (“Minter”) Alexander, a quiet, thoughtful

*Warden often referred to Tom Peters’s book Thriving on Chaos: Handbook for 

Management Revolution (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1987), which argues that a smal

staff approach to complex work issues produces high-quality, timely products unde

“real-world” conditions.

18
and unassuming man who had spent much of his career in

Strategic Air Command (SAC) and was now director of plans

Warden was very candid with Alexander.

“I don’t have any idea how it’s going to come out, but we are

going to put it together anyway and see what happens.”

“Fine,” said the general.7

At that point, neither man realized how all-consuming this

task Colonel Warden had taken upon himself would become

for everyone involved—in less than 48 hours. Nor did they

know whether or not it would gain the credibility it needed to

survive the “warlord” world of Goldwater-Nichols.* For the time

being, however, General Alexander was content to let Warden

pursue the issue as his work load and interest allowed.

Tue/7 Aug 90/Pentagon Basement

(Checkmate Area)

At 1000 the next morning, Warden’s tiger team met to

discuss what they had come up with. Colonel Kiraly—a portly

looking, dark-haired fighter pilot—chaired the meeting, while

Ben Harvey, a lieutenant colonel, took detailed notes. 8 Lt Co

Dale Autry, a Checkmate guy, spoke first. He advocated

putting together a briefing based on Warden’s inside-ou

warfare theory. A matrix could be built, using the five rings as

starting points. First, they would look at isolating the

leadership and Saddam Hussein himself from Iraq. Attrition

would have to be factored in, based on desired results. Did

they want to destroy or simply control the leadership’s means

of communicating with its people and its military?

A lively debate ensued between the group members at this

point. What became very clear early on was the fact that

different risks resulted in different costs, all of which were in

some significant way driven by desired results. Next, they

looked at what could be done with Iraq’s industrial base. They

asked themselves many questions: What does Iraq run on?

*Under the Goldwater-Nichols Department of Defense Reorganization Act, eac

CINC has an area of responsibility (AOR) and, with it, the authority to determine ho

best to plan and execute operations in his theater.

19
Oil? Electricity? Water? How could those things be taken out?

What with? At what cost? From there, the discussion turned to

logistics, focusing on the men, machines, and supplies called

for in current operational plans to handle contingencies like

this one. They were surprised by what they found.

The off-the-shelf plan called for ground forces to be deployed

to Saudi Arabia without any real capability to defend themselves

from attack. In addition, the kinds of aircraft that would

eventually be sent to the theater under the plan were not wel

suited for a war that could erupt at any moment. The plan

assumed a long warning time and large call-up of Reserve forces

before they would be forced to fight. That didn’t seem very likely

to the group meeting in the Checkmate offices this morning.

By 1430 that afternoon, Kiraly’s bunch had come to a number

of conclusions and were busy putting together slides for a

briefing they would give to Colonel Warden in a few hours. In it

they outlined their objections to the current plan and stressed

the need to get “serious air power” into the theater as soon as

possible.9 They were looking for aircraft that could be decisive, in

order to buy time until a larger contingent of US ground, sea

and air forces could be deployed to the area.

The group also stressed that the existing JCS time-phased

force and deployment lists (TPFDL) called for a flow of forces

into theater that was, in their estimation, entirely out of line in

view of the high possibility of an attack by Iraq.* Lastly, they

stressed the need to work up this alternative campaign plan in

such a way that it would fit easily within the framework o

Joint Staff operations. By so doing, they hoped to ensure that

“purple suiters”** could pick it up and run with it.

Not long after, Colonel Warden took the briefing, read a

point paper the group had prepared, and outlined essentially

everything they had gone over during the afternoon. He made

a few comments and changes, offering advice and

*Interestingly enough, the Checkmate group’s early assessment that there was 

high probability of an imminent attack from Iraq into Saudi Arabia changed after a few

days and ended up putting the revised Checkmate assessment at odds with Ninth Ai

Force’s. Harvey, 7. (Secret) Information extracted is unclassified (see note 6).

**Army, Navy, Marine, or Air Force people assigned to the Joint Staff are purpl

suiters. In theory, these people no longer have the parochial view of their servic

compatriots; hence, they are purple—not Army green, Navy blue, or Air Force blue.

20
encouragement where appropriate, and returned to his office

When he got there, Lt Col Dave Deptula—a member of the

Secretary of the Air Force’s Staff Group and a longtime

confidant—was waiting to see him. He looked troubled.

Warden had spoken briefly with Deptula early that morning

urging him to find time to come down and work with the group

he had assembled in Checkmate. Deptula said he would try to

get away, but the work load that Secretary Donald B. Rice was

generating simply wouldn’t allow it for the time being. Now

here he was. Deptula got right to the point. He told Warden

that after talking to him on the phone that morning, he got a

call from Col Steve (“Foose”) Wilson, head of the “Fighter

Mafia” in the Pentagon. Wilson asked Deptula to meet him

right away in one of the corridors that ran between their

offices. Foose had something to tell him, and it couldn’t wait.

After a brief delay to take another phone call, Deptula

slipped out of his office and hurried through a maze o

drab-colored passageways, past rows of anonymous green

doors, before he reached the agreed-upon meeting place. Here

in this seldom-traveled and poorly lit inner corridor, the two

men talked. Wilson gave Deptula the disturbing news. JCS

had generated a deployment order, and right now, all over the

country, aircraft—many, the wrong type of aircraft—were

being readied for action in the Gulf. Wilson urged Deptula to

go down to the Air Force Command Center, located in the

basement of the Pentagon, to see for himself. If he agreed with

Wilson that the right stuff was not being sent, he should tel

Secretary Rice and get him “energized” on the problem.

Deptula continued with his recounting of the day’s events

He explained to Warden that by 1000 he had gotten

permission to see the plan and was granted access to the

command center. Capt Jim Eckberg went over the deploymen

with him. It didn’t look good. The plan was flowing lots of stuf

to theater, apparently with little regard for munitions types

and availability. Platforms that could deliver precision guided

munitions (PGM) were in short supply. Warden nodded and

urged Deptula to continue talking. Everything he was saying

seemed to fit nicely with what the folks in Checkmate had

concluded in their initial investigation into the deploymen

scheme.

21
As they talked, it became obvious that Deptula’s concerns

were mirrored in John Warden’s view of transpiring events

That came as no real surprise to Warden. After all, both men

were committed to the same endgame. Deptula had fallen

under Warden’s influence a year or so earlier when he had

worked for him in the Air Force Doctrine Division at the

Pentagon. Together, they had explored the high and low

ground of aerospace doctrine and war-fighting strategy

Deptula, an F-15 pilot and Fighter Weapons School graduate

was a fast learner and quickly rose to the top of Warden’s

inner circle. At 6′2′′ and 215 pounds, Deptula was a big

teddy-bear kind of a guy, who—despite his friendly manner—

gave no quarter. Like most people close to Warden, he was

never satisfied with a “because-I-say-it-is” type of answer

Unlike Warden, however, he made few enemies and managed

to keep himself in the good graces of superiors and subordinates alike. This was to prove invaluable in the coming

days.

When Deptula finished, Warden urged him to do whatever it

took to free himself from his duties in Rice’s office and get

down to Checkmate and help build a campaign plan that

would work. Warden admitted he hadn’t the foggiest idea how

he was going to convince the civilian and military leaders it

was prudent to do so, but he was determined to try.

0802/Wed/8 Aug 90/Pentagon

The sun made a halfhearted attempt to appear through the

hazy morning overcast that filled the Tidal Basin. Although

only a few minutes past eight, the air was already warm and

heavy. Latecomers, angry and frustrated at having been

caught in the snarled Washington traffic, hurriedly made their

way toward the many entrances that lined the Pentagon. The

lucky ones who had arrived earlier were already at their desks

drinking coffee from seldom-washed cups and spreading the

day’s work before them. On the fourth-floor “E” ring,* things

*Each of the Pentagon’s five floors has five corridors—A (innermost) through E

(outermost).

22
were different. There, the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted

through halls of polished marble and mahogany. Secretaries

with stiff, coiffured hair, bright summer dresses, and painted

nails poured the dark liquid into gold-rimmed cups and

answered phones with practiced authority.

One such lady in room 4E936 paused slightly before

activating the intercom that connected her with Gen John M

(“Mike”) Loh, vice-chief of staff of the Air Force. Someone from

General Schwarzkopf’s office was on the phone she had jus

answered. The friendly but official-sounding voice at the other

end of the line told her that Gen H. Norman Schwarzkopf

commander in chief of United States Central Command

wanted to speak with whoever was in charge. And he wanted

to do it—now.

The secretary was well aware that General Dugan, the Air

Force chief of staff, was not in his office, nor even in the

building. He was on temporary duty (TDY) to Hanscom AFB

Massachusetts, giving a speech to the Air Force Sergeants

Association.10 By default, the job fell to the next man in

line—General Loh. She buzzed him and told him who was

calling. He picked up the phone immediately.

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, General Schwarzkopf

who had just returned from a whirlwind trip to the Middle

East, explained why he had called. “You know, I’ve sen

Horner over, and I have got to ask you if I can keep him

indefinitely. Will you let me do that because I have got to stay

here to get all this other stuff working with Colin Powell, so I’m

going to leave him over there if I can.” There was a short

pause, as if Schwarzkopf wanted to let all that he had said

sink in, and then the general added, “He doesn’t even have a

change of underwear.”

“Well,” said Loh, laughing at the thought of Horner withou

a change of underwear and no time to buy any, “he is used to

that.”

Schwarzkopf chuckled too. “Yeah, he can live in the same

underwear for a few months.”

Loh became serious. “Look, you own Horner! He’s yours! 

will confirm this with Bob Russ. But you consider that you

own Horner.” There was an awkward pause while Loh waited

for Schwarzkopf to terminate the conversation. They were both

23
four-star generals, but Schwarzkopf was by far the more

senior of the two. Besides, he was the one who had called.

“You know,” said Schwarzkopf, starting out slowly, almos

as though he were thinking out loud, “we have a decent plan

for air/land operations, but I’m thinking of an air campaign

and I don’t have any expertise—anybody here who can think

in those kinds of terms and look at a broader set of targets or a

strategic campaign.”11

Loh could hardly believe what he was hearing! Here was the

commander in chief of USCENTCOM—Gen H. Norman

Schwarzkopf, an Army infantry officer—hinting around at asking

the Air Force for help in building a strategic campaign. Genera

Loh immediately recalled something that Minter Alexander had

told him about John Warden’s effort in Checkmate. The match

was perfect. As a matter of fact, it was almost too [expletive

deleted] good to be true! But he had to play it. 

“Well,” said Loh, running a hand through his thick, black

hair and stretching his legs to their fullest, “wait, because we

have a cell here that is capable of doing that—that has started

talking about that. I will get the support of both TAC and SAC*

in helping to flesh that out, and we will start working on that

right away and coordinate it with your staff.”

Schwarzkopf seized on Loh’s offer of coordinated assistance

and stressed the need to put something together

quickly—something that would work decisively. “I need it fas

because he may launch a chemical Scud or chemical attack

We can’t go out in piecemeal with an air/land battle plan. I

have got to hit him at his heart! I need it kind of fast because I

may have to attack those kinds of targets deep, that have

value to him as a leader, if he decides to launch a plan of

attack with Scuds or with even chemical or nuclear weapons

So, I need this kind of fast.”

“Okay,” said Loh, already beginning to formulate a plan to

give Schwarzkopf exactly what he wanted—and more. “You are

welcome to jack it into first gear right now! Okay? I will get

*Tactical Air Command existed prior to Air Combat Command (ACC) and was com 

posed primarily of fighter aircraft. Strategic Air Command consisted primarily o

bombers, tankers, and intercontinental ballistic missiles (ICBM). Bomber and tanke

assets were merged with TAC assets to form ACC in 1992.

24
back with you. What I need to do is to get a plan going and

bring it to you. Give me about a week.”

Schwarzkopf responded immediately, “I’m going to call Colin

Powell now and tell him that we have talked and that you are

working this for me.”

“Fine,” said Loh, thinking to himself as he put down the

receiver and flicked a piece of dust off his shirtsleeve, “I’ve got

to go talk to Colin Powell now and make sure that we are al

working together.”12

General Loh reached across his desk and hit a button on his

squawk box that connected him directly with Genera

Alexander. “Minter, get your fanny up here!”13 While Loh

waited for his chief planner, he placed a call to the TAC boss

Gen Robert D. Russ. As soon as Russ came on the line

General Loh began to tell him about his call from Genera

Schwarzkopf.

“He probably should have called you, but he called me,” said

Loh apologetically. “He wants to know if Horner can kind of be

given—if he owns Horner for the indefinite future. I said, ‘O

course you do!’”

“Sure he does,” growled Russ. “I have essentially told his

staff that.”

“Okay, fine,” said Loh, relieved that Russ at least agreed

with him as to the disposition of Horner. “Also,” he went on

cautiously, “Schwarzkopf needs some planning help because

he wants to look at a set of targets beyond the traditiona

tactical targets that we have been planning against for

CENTCOM. He wants to look at the broader set of strategic

targets. I’m going to talk to Chain, and I’ve already got the

Checkmate guys looking at this.”14

Loh was careful not to put too much emphasis on the

Checkmate involvement in the planning process. He knew tha

Russ, as commander of TAC, might resent or misconstrue

what was being done on his or CENTCOM’s behalf in

Washington. After all, Horner, as Ninth Air Force commander

belonged to Russ—not Loh or any other four-star general in

the Pentagon, for that matter.

It was tacitly understood by the “brotherhood” o

fighter-pilot generals that Bob Russ was the senior active duty

member of that elite group. The fact was, at one time or

25
another, General Russ had been the boss of all these

men—including the current chief, General Dugan—so no one

wanted to make him mad unnecessarily.15

“Okay,” said Russ, somewhat confused by exactly wha

General Loh was asking him for.16 “Our guys are pretty good

at this. We have already got a cell that I use with CINCLANT*

with the B-52s that are chopped** to CINCLANT that talk

about long-range missions. Let me get our planners that have

worked this before, because we have already been in this with

CINCLANT, and they can pitch in and help.” 17

The conversation ended pleasantly enough a moment or so

later. For his part, unbeknownst to Loh, General Russ put no

stock at all in Loh’s insistence that General Schwarzkop

himself had asked for help in identifying and planning

“strategic targets.” On more than one occasion, Russ had seen

people, especially staffers, invoke the name of key figures to

achieve their own objectives. As far as he was concerned, this

could have been just another example of this kind o

posturing. In any case, he would get Brig Gen Tom Griffith, his

deputy chief of staff for plans, to work on this right away and

tell him to make sure that Chuck Horner knew what these

guys in Washington were up to.

Shortly after getting called on the squawk box by the

vice-chief, General Alexander spent a frantic few minutes

trying to locate Colonel Warden. He found him down in the

Checkmate offices, working on the plan. Alexander told

Warden to meet him in General Loh’s office immediately. They

arrived in the vice-chief’s office within minutes of each other

and ended up cooling their heels in the outer lobby while Loh

talked on the phone with Russ. Bits and pieces of Loh’s

conversation spilled through the open door and were

overheard by Warden and Alexander. Until then, neither man

had been certain as to why Loh had summoned them. Was it

good news or bad? Now they had a pretty good idea. Loh

caught Alexander’s eye and motioned both men into his office

The vice-chief then carefully explained the gist of his

*Commander in chief, United States Atlantic Command.

**From “change of operational procedures” (CHOP). The gaining unit has tactica

control but not command of the assets.

26
conversation with General Schwarzkopf and ended by

reiterating his understanding of what the commander o

CENTCOM wanted: “He wants a strategic air campaign.” 18 Loh

then shifted in his seat, looked directly at both men, and

dropped the bombshell concerning when he had promised to

deliver this whole thing to Schwarzkopf—and whom he

expected to produce it.

“Put together and brief a strategic air campaign for me, and

let me see what you have.” Both Warden and Alexander

struggled with the realization of what they were being asked to

do and the ridiculously short time frame they had to

accomplish it in. Warden spoke first.

“Well,” he said, trying hard to contain the thoughts and

emotions that stirred inside him at this crucial moment, “we

are working on one; we will have the first cut sometime this

afternoon for you to take a look at.” 19

Once again, Loh made it clear that he was eager to see the

briefing as soon as it was ready. He thanked both men for

coming and then dismissed them.

Right after they left, General Loh had his secretary put in a

call to Gen John (“Jack”) Chain, SAC commander. It wen

much smoother than his earlier call to Russ and didn’t take

nearly as much time.

“Good,” said General Chain after hearing of Schwarzkopf’s

request for Air Force help in building a strategic plan and o

Loh’s decision to have Alexander and Warden head up the

effort in the Air Staff to put one together. “I will talk to the

plans guys, and I will provide whatever support you need.” 20

General Loh hung up the phone, very pleased with the

morning’s events. He made a note to brief General Dugan as

soon as possible and looked forward to seeing what Warden

and Alexander could come up with. It wouldn’t take long.

Warden could barely contain his excitement as he walked

back toward the plans area with his boss, General Alexander

Talk about luck and good fortune! Only days before, he had

been agonizing over how he could contact and then, hopefully

convince the senior leadership of the necessity for a

hard-hitting air campaign against Iraq, and now he is told by a

person no less than the vice-chief himself to put one together

Even more incredibly, he is told that Gen H. Norman

27
Schwarzkopf—the commander of USCENTCOM—is the guy

who first asked for such a plan and was now waiting for it to

be delivered by the Air Staff!

Warden’s mind raced with all sorts of ideas: who to call, how to

tell the folks already assembled in Checkmate, what kind of time

line they should use, what approach to take, and so forth. Even

though General Loh had spoken of the need to make it a “joint”

plan, Warden had other ideas—at least for now. He thought to

himself, “Okay, but I can’t do that right off because what I’m going

to do is to use Air Force resources to lay out the thing initially.” In

the back of his mind, he had already decided that the whole effort

might be possible using Air Force assets alone. As far as he was

concerned, that would be a good thing—a very good thing. 21

When he reached his office, Warden immediately picked up

the phone and started calling people he had contacted earlier

to work on the project. It was only a handful of people

really—most were from other divisions within the Air Staff

and of course there was Colonel Deptula from Secretary Rice’s

office. He asked them to drop whatever they were doing and

meet him in the Checkmate area at 1000. At the appointed

hour, a group of about 30 people gathered to hear what

Warden had to say.

He began by telling them about his meeting with Genera

Loh and the mandate he and General Alexander had received

less than two hours before to produce a strategic air

campaign. Warden hammered home what an extraordinarily

important thing it was that this group was undertaking. Over

and over, he emphasized that this air campaign planning effort

they were committing to was not some silly paper exercise but

a deadly serious attempt to match national objectives with

military power. Real lives would be at stake, he told them. It

would be hard work. No one knew how it would come out or

whether or not it would be accepted. Because of these

incredibly high stakes, Warden urged the group to give

everything they had to this effort; nothing less than their

individual and collective best efforts would suffice. 22

Warden pointed to the rings on the chalkboard and the

rapidly growing target sets people had written alongside. “This

is what we are going to call the plan; it’s going to be Instant

Thunder.” Warden chose the name as a direct contrast to the

28
ill-fated, Vietnam-era plan entitled Rolling Thunder, which called

for slow and gradual escalation of air activities to allow the enemy

time to rethink his predicament and, hopefully, sue for peace

“This is not your Rolling Thunder. This is real war, and one of the

things we want to emphasize right from the beginning is that this

is not Vietnam! This is doing it right! This is using air power!” 23

He clasped his hands and looked out over the group o

people in that paint-peeled, overcrowded room. They all were

confident and ready to go. Warden was more determined than

ever to avoid the air power mistakes of the past: too little, too

long, and too late. Instant Thunder would see to that. Within

minutes of his announcement, the name and concept were

accepted by the rest of the group assembled in Checkmate

that morning, and by noon all the Vu-Graphs bore that title.

The last portion of the meeting included a brief discussion o

the short-term game plan, Checkmate area organization, and

division responsibilities. People quickly broke off into ad hoc

working groups, most of which had been established over the

past two days and had gotten started. It didn’t take long to

consolidate the previous day’s planning efforts into a workable

briefing format. By 1245 Warden’s group was in Genera

Alexander’s office going over the Vu-Graphs they would use

with General Loh. One of the leadoff transparencies listed four

presidential “objectives.”* This was a bit of sleight of hand on

Warden’s part. The listed presidential objectives were, in fact

pieced together by the folks in Checkmate from recen

speeches and statements made by President Bush. No one

questioned them, so this Vu-Graph was quickly followed by

another showing corresponding military objectives.*

Alexander, with little fanfare or adjustment, approved wha

*Early versions of Instant Thunder showed four presidential objectives:

“1. Iraqi withdrawal from Kuwait.

 2. Restore Kuwaiti sovereignty.

 3. Secure free flow of oil.

 4. Protect U.S. lives.”

**Military objectives shown in early versions of Instant Thunder were

“1. Force Iraqi withdrawal from Kuwait.

 2. Degrade Iraq’s offensive capability.

 3. Secure oil facilities.

 4. Render Hussein ineffective as an Arab leader.”

29
was presented and accompanied Warden and the rest of the

Checkmate party to their 1300 meeting with General May.

As the assistant deputy chief of staff for Air Force plans and

operations, May was still sitting in for Jimmie Adams, who

was away on vacation. He was somewhat uncomfortable with

General Adams being out of town and with the pace of events

occurring around him. Both May and Adams were wary o

Warden and his uncanny ability to push whatever program or

policy he deemed important around and—often—over them

Too many times before, Adams or May had told Warden to

forget about something he had gotten excited about, only to

see it come back as a direct tasker from the chief or a civilian

authority.24

It was no secret that General Dugan, Air Force chief of staff

thought highly of Warden. When Warden’s book, The Ai

Campaign: Planning for Combat,25 was released by Nationa

Defense University Press in the fall of 1988, Dugan—then a

three-star—ordered that a copy be given to every officer on the

Air Staff.* Dugan himself wrote the cover letter tha

accompanied the distribution of Warden’s book.

All of these things weighed on General May as he took the

briefing from the small group Warden had assembled in his

office. As a straight-shooting, company kind of guy with a lot

of years in the bomber (B-52) community, May was at a loss to

understand what motivated Warden to put himself so far out

on a limb so many times with his bosses and others, on issue

after issue. As far as May was concerned, it was

presumptuous and arrogant of Warden to continue to push

things that his immediate superiors thought better of. Still

May had to admit that on many occasions, Warden was on the

right track. As far as he could tell, Warden never did anything

for personal gain or glory. To the contrary, Warden’s actions

made him many more enemies than friends.

General May deferred a direct critique of the presentation

and instead insisted that arrangements be made to give

General Adams a full update on everything they had done as

*At the time, General Dugan was Air Force deputy chief of staff for plans and

operations and had created a special position for Colonel Warden in the Plans Direc 

torate.

30
soon as Adams returned to the Pentagon. This requirement had

no effect on the plan’s immediate status. Truth was, with the

briefing due in General Loh’s office in only a few minutes, the

planning train was “leaving the station,” and May was going to

ride it whether he liked it or not. 26 General May reluctantly gav

his tacit approval and joined the group as it made its way down

the fourth-floor E ring to the vice-chief’s office.

General Loh’s reaction to the briefing was far better than

anyone expected. He embraced the way Warden and his people

framed the problem with their concept of a five-ring

nation-state and directed that they expand their effort to

identify target sets, strategies, weapons requirements, and

airlift, and then incorporate all of this into not only a cogent

briefing but an executable strategic air campaign plan for

General Schwarzkopf’s approval—by Friday.

“This is the number one project in the Air Force,” said Loh

with obvious enthusiasm. “You can call anybody, anyplace

that you need, for anything.”27 No one had spoken sweete

words to Warden in his entire life! He left the meeting

determined to take the general up on his promise.

Warden wasn’t the only one intent on making use of Loh’s

“anybody, anyplace, anything” chit. General Alexander put in

a call to Maj Gen James R. Clapper, Jr., the head of Air Force

intelligence.

“I need some help,” began General Alexander. “I need some

of your best intel guys. General Loh wants us to put a strategic

air campaign together.”

Clapper did not respond immediately. When he finally did

his tone was guarded. “Why are you doing this?”

“Jim, I haven’t got time to discuss it,” said Alexander

somewhat perturbed and a little surprised at Clapper’s reaction

to his request. “General Loh has asked us to do this.” 28

Clapper came back as slowly as before, his voice strained

and more than a little on edge. “This is Horner’s job.” 29

“Yes,” said Alexander grudgingly, as he glanced up at the

model of the B-2 bomber that sat prominently on his desk. It

was becoming obvious that, for whatever reason, Clapper was

not interested in playing. Neither man said anything for a few

seconds, and then Clapper spoke up.

31
“I was down at Ninth just before they deployed. They have 

strategic air campaign. They already have one.”

For a while, General Alexander thought Clapper had really

stumbled onto something. Had Schwarzkopf called Loh

without really being aware of the fact that Horner and the

folks at Ninth Air Force had a handle on this all along? That

notion was quickly dispelled, however. After Alexander asked

him what the campaign consisted of, Clapper explained, “They

have about 44 targets.”

In truth, Clapper had no idea what Alexander was even talking

about! In the intelligence general’s mind, targets and targe

folders equated to an air campaign. Most of the targets he had

seen at Ninth were interdiction and counterair targets. In no

way, shape, or form could any of this be construed as a bona fide

air campaign. Alexander tried to explain this to Clapper but to

no avail. Despite Alexander’s best efforts, he could not persuade

General Clapper to give any of his people to the effort now going

on at the Air Staff. Although Clapper was polite, he made it clear

that no help would be forthcoming.30

Frustrated, General Alexander immediately called General Loh.

“General Loh,” said Alexander, trying hard to suppress his

pique with General Clapper, “Jim Clapper says that Genera

Horner already has a strategic air campaign and that this is

not necessary.”

Loh’s response was immediate and to the point

“Schwarzkopf wants it! You put it together, and you tel

Clapper to get some people down there to help you!” 31

Alexander called Clapper back. It seemed to take a long time

for the general to come to the phone. When he finally got there

Alexander told him what Loh had said. Despite this new edict

from Loh, Clapper still sounded unwilling to support the Air Staf

effort. He was convinced that Ninth Air Force had a strategic air

campaign plan and that Loh, Alexander, and the rest of the boys

were getting into Horner’s mess kit. He wanted no part of it. 32

Wed/8 Aug 90/Bolling AFB/Wash DC

The message that Alexander had relayed from Loh mus

have had some effect on General Clapper because later the

32
same day, Clapper called Col Jim Blackburn, his director o

targets, and told him to send somebody to the Checkmate area

to “find out what they were up to there.” 33 Blackburn had

been contacted earlier in the week by Colonel Warden and was

familiar with what the people in Checkmate were trying to

accomplish. Like his boss, Colonel Blackburn was suspicious

of the Air Staff operation.

In Blackburn’s mind, ad hoc groups like Warden’s had a

way of taking on a life all their own, sucking up organizations

and talent, and in the process destroying carefully laid out

formal networks—especially those that connected intelligence

organizations with their operational customers in the field. He

said as much to Warden earlier in the week when Warden

spoke of getting as much information as he could from as

many sources as possible.34 Operators—taking direct input

from the CIA, DIA, the National Security Agency (NSA), and

others—would, in Blackburn’s opinion, produce lots o

half-baked conclusions without the benefit of skilled

intelligence fusion.

Reluctantly, Blackburn detailed one of his majors to head

over to Checkmate and report back later in the day on what he

had discovered. Blackburn called Warden and told him he was

sending a targeteer over per General Clapper’s instructions

and asked that he be given clearance into the Checkmate

facility. Warden readily agreed to do so.

Wed/8 Aug 90/Pentagon (Late Afternoon)

General Alexander touched base with Warden and several o

his people throughout the hectic afternoon. Except for the

run-in with Clapper, things were going quite well, considering

It occurred to him that the best thing to do might be to simply

call Ninth Air Force and invite their staff to come up and assist

on the planning effort. After all, they were the ones who would

have to live with it. He put in a call to Shaw AFB. What he

found there wasn’t very encouraging.

Horner was already deployed to the Gulf with a large

contingent of his best people. The ones left behind were trying

hard to cope with the situation but were overwhelmed by calls

33
coming in from everywhere asking about aircraft schedules

loadouts, munitions requirements, beddown locations, and a

myriad of other questions related to the CENTAF

deployment.35

To make matters worse, communications with Horner and

the rest of the CENTAF people in-theater were almos

nonexistent at this time.* Tenth Air Force, a Reserve outfit

was supposed to backfill the departing Ninth Air Force people

but it simply wasn’t happening. Their response to Genera

Alexander’s request was predictable: “Well, we’ll see. If we

haven’t got anybody, we can’t make them available.” 36

Alexander hung up with the dawning realization that no

everyone was going to jump on this air campaign bandwagon

Maybe there were a lot more people out there like Clapper and

the guy he just talked to. Maybe the idea of a strategic air

campaign was not as firmly embedded in the hearts and

minds of Air Force people as he had always believed. Maybe

He and the rest of the growing Checkmate crowd would soon

find out.

 Thu/9 Aug 90/Pentagon

By 0740 General Alexander, Warden, and a few of the other

planning-team members were in the vice-chief’s office

explaining the previous afternoon’s events and the progress

they had made on the plan.37 Alexander brought up his

conversation with Ninth Air Force, telling Loh that as far as he

could tell, Ninth—or even TAC for that matter—wasn’t going to

send anyone to help. Loh was sympathetic and nodded his

*Things were so chaotic at Shaw during this period that within several days, Gen 

eral Russ, TAC commander—on the recommendation of his assistant director o

operations and without consultation with the Ninth Air Force commander, Genera

Horner—ordered all remaining Ninth Air Force personnel to deploy to the comman

post at Langley AFB, Virginia, and declared Langley as “CENTAF Rear.” In a TAC-gen 

erated message given wide dissemination per General Russ’s orders, Maj Gen Mik

Ryan, TAC director of operations, was named “acting commander” of CENTAF Rea

and took charge of all deployment-related tasks for CENTAF. Headquarters TAC per 

sonnel then augmented the Ninth Air Force people and formed the bulk of the CENTA

Rear contingent. This arrangement remained in effect throughout the buildup, wa

and postwar period. Russ, 9 December 1991, 41–43 (see note 15).

34
head in understanding. He picked up the Instant Thunde

briefing package and put it in front of Alexander. “Okay, fax this

thing down to TAC and get their comments.” 38 Loh made it very

clear that he was confident that all the big guys—Schwarzkopf

Chain, Russ, Dugan, and even Colin Powell—were behind this

effort. He wanted it to proceed at “full speed.” 39

A short discussion followed, concerning how to identify the

key targets critical to the survival of Saddam Hussein and his

infrastructure. Ben Harvey, who up to now had been

frantically trying to write down what had been said

volunteered that it might be useful to get the inputs o

academics like Prof Ed Luttwak* and others. Loh agreed bu

cautioned that he didn’t want any of them read in on the plan

They would simply talk to them and get their ideas on the

situation.40

It was matter-of-factly announced that the Instant Thunde

briefing would go to General Schwarzkopf on the afternoon o

the tenth and to Chairman Powell early the next morning—on

Saturday. The meeting lasted only a few minutes longer, and

by 0800 Warden and the others were headed back down to the

basement where they welcomed the SAC augmentees who had

arrived in response to General Loh’s call to the SAC

commander.41

Most of the SAC guys were pilots or navigators, very familiar

with the workings, capabilities, and requirements of the

bomber and tanker fleets. After a short briefing on what the

planning effort consisted of so far and after a review of the

tasking, these crew members were assimilated into the ad hoc

Checkmate organization as “system specialists”** and

immediately put to work.

*Dr Luttwak holds the Arleigh Burke Chair in Strategy at the Center for Strategi

and International Studies, Washington, D.C. Since the early 1970s, he has served as a

consultant on strategic matters and has conducted military studies on a variety o

topics, including the first rapid-deployment force concept (the basis of CENTCOM).

**As system specialists, the SAC people were assigned to “Campaign Plans and

Applications Organizations,” which was cobbled together by Colonel Deptula and ap 

proved by Colonel Warden. It served to give form and shape to the evolving planning

effort. Campaign Plans and Applications Organizations Chart, 11 August 1990, Dep 

tula files 03–3A, Desert Story Collection, US Air Force Historical Research Agency

Maxwell AFB, Ala.

35
Things happened quickly throughout the rest of the

morning. By 0900 Checkmate had a copy of the 44 CENTAF

targets General Clapper had spoken to Alexander about the

day before. The people in Checkmate overlaid these targets on

top of their own and began work on aiming points and other

critical data on the entire set. Arrangements were made to

meet with Professor Luttwak later in the afternoon. Other

scholars would follow.*

Long before lunchtime, General Alexander ordered the

Instant Thunder briefing sent not only to TAC, as Loh had

requested, but to SAC and Air University (AU) at Maxwell AFB

Alabama, as well. Warden was opposed to sending the plan

anywhere at this stage. He argued that it would be better to

get it all worked out, present it to General Schwarzkop

tomorrow, and then send it wherever Alexander thought i

should go.42 Alexander wouldn’t buy it. He wanted to be

up-front with all the war fighters and anyone else who might

ultimately be involved in the planning. He wanted to start

building a constituency—to make people feel they were

participants in the process. The briefing was faxed out as

ordered.

Notes

1. Col John A. Warden III, Washington, D.C., transcript of interview with

Lt Col Suzanne B. Gehri, 22 October 1991, 36, Desert Story Collection, US

Air Force Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala.

2. Ibid., 36–37.

3. Ibid., 10.

4. Ibid., 39.

5. Ibid., 39–42.

6. Notes, Lt Col Ben Harvey, 2, Desert Story Collection, US Air Force

Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala. (Secret) Information

extracted here and in subsequent references is unclassified. Hereinafte

referred to as Harvey.

7. Warden, 22 October 1991, 40.

8. Harvey, 5.

9. Ibid., 6.

*Ultimately, Warden and Alexander met with Luttwak, Colin Gray, and Eliot Cohen

as well as a host of people from the Rand Corporation. None of them were at a

familiar with the effects and capabilities of PGMs, and they spoke mostly in generali 

ties. Alexander, 30 May 1991, 9–11 (see note 19).

36
10. Gen Michael J. Dugan, Washington, D.C., transcript of interview

with author, 15 August 1991, 3, Desert Story Collection, US Air Force

Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala.

11. Gen John M. Loh, Langley AFB, Va., transcript of interview with

Lt Col Suzanne B. Gehri and author, 19 September 1991, 4–5, Desert Story

Collection, US Air Force Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala. It is

important to note that this dialogue is General Loh’s recollection of the

conversation—not General Schwarzkopf’s. Despite repeated requests

General Schwarzkopf did not grant the author an interview.

12. Ibid., 6.

13. Gen John M. Loh, Langley AFB, Va., transcript of interview with

Lt Col Suzanne B. Gehri and author, 26 September 1991, 7, Desert Story

Collection, US Air Force Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala.

14. Ibid., 9.

15. Gen Robert D. Russ, Alexandria, Va., transcript of interview with

Lt Col Suzanne B. Gehri, Lt Col Edward C. Mann, and author, 9 Decembe

1991, 36–37, Desert Story Collection, US Air Force Historical Research

Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala. In his interview of 26 September 1991, Loh

commented that part of the reason he didn’t say much about the Checkmate

involvement to General Russ was that “he [Russ] might have said, ‘Okay, we

will take over this. Don’t you do anything.’ After all, he outranked me” (page

10).

16. Russ, 9 December 1991, 9.

17. Loh, 26 September 1991, 9.

18. Warden, 22 October 1991, 49.

19. Lt Gen Robert M. Alexander, Washington, D.C., transcript o

interview with Lt Col Suzanne B. Gehri, Lt Col Edward C. Mann, and

author, 30 May 1991, 2, Desert Story Collection, US Air Force Historica

Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala. See also Warden, 22 October 1991, 49.

20. Loh, 26 September 1991, 13.

21. Warden, 22 October 1991, 49.

22. Ibid., 50.

23. Ibid., 52–53.

24. Gen Jimmie V. Adams, Eglin AFB, Fla., transcript of interview with

Lt Col Suzanne B. Gehri and author, 3 February 1992, 22, 41, Desert Story

Collection, US Air Force Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala.

25. John A. Warden III, The Air Campaign: Planning for Comba

(Washington, D.C.: National Defense University Press, 1988).

26. Harvey, 8.

27. Warden, 22 October 1991, 51.

28. Alexander, 30 May 1991, 6.

29. Ibid.

30. Ibid.

31. Ibid., 7.

32. Ibid., 8.

33. Col James Blackburn, Bolling AFB, Washington, D.C., transcript o

interview with Lt Col Suzanne B. Gehri, Col Edward C. Mann, and author

21 April 1993, 13–20, Desert Story Collection, US Air Force Historica

Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala.

37
34. Ibid.

35. Alexander, 30 May 1991, 9.

36. Ibid.

37. Harvey, 10.

38. Alexander, 30 May 1991, 9.

39. Harvey, 10.

40. Ibid.

41. Ibid.

42. Warden, 22 October 1991, 54.

38
Chapter 3

Thu/9 Aug 90/Langley AFB VA

It had been raining on and off in the Tidewater area since

early morning. Thunder, low and rumbling, marshalled in

each new wave of fast-moving clouds, pelting the ramps and

taxiways at Langley AFB with heavy rain. At times, it was

almost impossible to see the ghostly shapes of the 1st Tactica

Fighter Wing’s Eagle jets arranged in neat rows along the

perimeter of the field. Somehow, the high-tech birds looked

delicate and fragile as they sat exposed to the blustery

elements. Not far away in a headquarters building, Tom

Griffith, TAC’s director of plans, was wrestling with a few

storm problems of his own.

A copy of Instant Thunder had come over the secure fax

from General Alexander and the boys in Air Force Plans with a

note asking for comments. Griffith put a few of his people

together and asked them to take a look at it. Cols Dick

Bigelow, Alex Bettinger, Doug Hawkins, and Rich Bristow were

huddled on the other side of the base, poring over the

document and trying to come up with a reasonable response

for General Griffith to take to General Russ before they sent

anything to the Pentagon.

The whole operation was very close hold. Just the day

before, Russ had called Griffith over to the command section

and told him to “start thinking about if we were to do anything

over in Saudi Arabia, Iraq, or Kuwait. Develop some options o

what force structure we would take over there and what you

would do.”1 Now this new twist! Neither Griffith nor his four

colonels could understand what the people in the Air Staf

were doing mucking around in CENTAF business!

Bettinger and Hawkins were strongly opposed to Instan

Thunder from the start, thinking it was “too violent” and not at

all in the “best interest of the Air Force.” 2 One of their firs

orders of business was to try to send the plan to Genera

Horner in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. It wasn’t easy. Repeate

attempts to send the document into theater via secure—an

39
even unsecure—fax failed. The reason was simple: Horner’s

communications equipment was not fully functioning at this

early stage of the deployment.

Bristow and Bigelow were not as adamant in their criticism

as were Bettinger and Hawkins, but they too thought the plan

was flawed. Bristow complained that Instant Thunder lacked a

“tactical perspective” because it failed to commit forces to

holding a defensive line on the Kuwaiti/Saudi border. To him

Warden’s plan for selective bombing amounted to nothing

more than a new twist on the old Douhet-era practice o

indiscriminate bombing.3 All four officers shared concerns

about the plan’s apparent lack of integration with ground

forces. Where was the Army scheme of maneuver? How will air

support it? When will the Army be there? They could find no

answers to these questions in Instant Thunder. The men

rejected the plan and gave their reasons for doing so to

General Griffith.

The general basically concurred with the group’s findings

However, instead of thanking the four colonels for their efforts

and letting them go back to their normal routines, he asked

them to stay together and work on a credible TAC alternative

to Instant Thunder—something General Russ (and, more

importantly, General Horner) could use. The men retired to a

third-floor office in the plans complex and began work on their

new tasking.

Meanwhile, Griffith gathered up the Instant Thunder papers

scattered across his desk, stuffed them into a manila folder

and headed across the street to see Bob Russ. The rain had

abated somewhat, so he managed to get to the headquarters

building with only an occasional drop of water falling on his

starched, open-collar blue shirt. Even though using an

umbrella was “legal,” the gruff-looking former Army-helicopter

pilot-turned-Air-Force-general couldn’t bring himself to do that

It just didn’t seem right. Russ’s executive officer—a clean-cut

pencil-thin, fighter-pilot colonel—waved Griffith through the

outer office and into Russ’s private chambers.

Once inside, Griffith went over Instant Thunder with Russ

page by page. The general, too, had many reservations abou

what he was seeing and told as much to Griffith. His biggest

concern was the fact that Chuck Horner—the commande

40
in-theater, the guy who would have to execute the plan—had

no input!4 Russ wanted to make sure that “we didn’t have

someone picking targets in Washington [sic], like they did in

Vietnam, and the poor guy out in the field saying, ‘That is the

dumbest thing I have ever seen!’”5

Griffith concurred, remembering with some dread a phone

call he received from General Alexander shortly after the

Instant Thunder fax arrived at Langley. Alexander told him

“Hey, we think the national leadership is going to want to start

doing this . . . in about two or three weeks.” 6 Griffith wa

convinced that the Instant Thunder air campaign was

absolutely the wrong thing to do in light of the fact that no

serious ground forces would be available in such a short time

Both Russ and Griffith agreed that “if we drop the first bomb

we had better have enough Army out there to prevent Hussein

from driving to Riyadh and picking up General Horner and

throwing him in the back of a pickup truck!” 7

Another vital aspect Russ felt was missing from Instan

Thunder was anything on electronic countermeasures (ECM). He

was certain the whole ECM arena—from strike-package

configuration to suppression of enemy air defenses

(SEAD)—needed to be very carefully developed, and he knew tha

Horner didn’t have anyone to do it. Russ’s gut feeling was that

Brig Gen Larry Henry, a well-known and respected weapons

system officer with a rich background in defense suppression

tactics and technologies, could handle the job. He made a

mental note to tell Mike Ryan, his director of operations, to pass

that bit of information on to Horner, first chance he got. 8

Both men discussed some selective options that made more

sense to them than the massive attack called for in Instant

Thunder. Russ simply didn’t believe that the American public

would support an all-out war.9 Instead, he advocated a

demonstration of US power and resolve. One option involved

sending F-117s against a nuclear reactor and power plan

rebuilt by the Iraqis after the Israelis took it out several years

before. His idea was to hit the target and announce to Saddam

Hussein, “Look, we have the strength to take out anything in

your country at any time and at any place that we want to, a

demonstrated by what we did here.”10 Such an action could

be a unilateral, one-time option or a precursor to other things.

41
Griffith leaned forward as Russ warmed to the idea and

carried it a little further. If such an action were taken, he

mused, the president could let Saddam think about it for, say

12 hours, and then if nothing happens, go back the next night

and take out two more of his storage and production facilities

Let him think about that for a while, and if nothing happens

go back the next night and take out three sites. If no response

then “go for the gusto!”11

Russ felt that these actions would show the tremendous

capability of the United States and would demonstrate to

Saddam Hussein that “with air power, we had the ability to

operate anywhere in his country, at any time, and destroy

whatever we wanted.”12 Russ told Griffith to run with these

ideas and get back to him as soon as he could with something

on paper. The one-star agreed to do his best, stuffed the

Instant Thunder fax back into its folder, and left.

Later that same day, Griffith met again with his colonels to

hear what they had come up with. Their concept, pitched in

the general’s spartan and poorly appointed office, called for a

massive air strike on Iraqi forces in Kuwait, as well as the use

of air-to-ground fighters to help defend the Saudi border if the

Iraqis started to move south.13 They even added a “little bit o

a ground campaign [to] win the war.” 14 Griffith asked a few

questions and then hurried across the street to show the new

plan to General Russ.

It wasn’t long before a downcast Griffith shuffled back to his

office and threw the manila folder containing the TAC

alternative on his desk. In the room were the four colonels and

a few of the plans and intelligence folks who had been rolled

into the TAC planning effort. Griffith told them General Russ

had not accepted the plan as written, saying it needed more

work. He talked to the group about General Russ’s idea of a

demonstration plan involving the targeting of nuclear

biological, and chemical (NBC) facilities and the rapid

(two-to-three-day) escalation of hostilities if Hussein didn’

withdraw his forces from Kuwait. Some of the officers who

heard Griffith were visibly upset, arguing that “this is a

throwback to the Vietnam era.”15 Griffith was unmoved. The

worked on into the night and all the following day, trying to

put together something that Russ would approve.

42
Fri/10 Aug 90/Langley AFB VA

By early evening, Griffith’s planners were confident they had

something the boss could live with. Russ had left his office

hours ago, but Griffith arranged to take his party to a meeting

at the commander’s private residence later that night.

In the meantime, Colonel Bettinger’s secretary, Zunelle (“Z”

Bookhardt, had managed to type all of Instant Thunder—and

an alternative TAC plan—into an encoded message format and

send it over the wire to General Horner at US Military Trainin

Mission (USMTM) in Riyadh.16 Horner quickly read th

message, frowned, and scribbled in the margin, “Do with this

what you will. How can a person in an ivory tower far from the

front, not knowing what needs to be done (guidance), write

such a message? Wonders never cease.”17 He tossed it into his

out basket and went on to other things.

Griffith drove slowly past the Langley Officers’ Club, wishing

he had time to stop and get something to eat before he saw

Russ. Instead, he turned down a small side street marked “for

residents only” and made his way to the TAC commander’s

house. It was readily visible, even in the darkness. Genera

Russ had the biggest, most impressive house on base. Built in

the 1930s, when air power was still in its infancy, the

rambling, two-story, brick-and-stone house looked out over a

shallow, saltwater bay populated by a wide variety of ducks

and other waterfowl. In summer and on early autumn days, a

stream of colorful sail and powerboats paraded past the house

on their way to and from the Atlantic Ocean. Nearby, but far

less imposing, were similar houses of key members of the TAC

staff. All of the residences had been built as public works

projects during the Great Depression to house high-ranking

Air Corps officers. Now they were home to a new generation o

Air Force generals charged with the care and feeding of a larg

and powerful fighter and attack force.

Griffith pulled up in front and walked around the car to the

sidewalk. The carefully manicured lawn glistened under th

old-fashioned streetlamps. It was quiet and peaceful. The only

sound was the hushed footsteps of the four colonels, who had

driven their own cars, as they fell in trail behind Griffith and

made their way to the front door. Griffith rang the doorbell

43
and he and his party soon were ushered inside. Mrs Russ was

in the kitchen preparing the evening meal. The genera

motioned the group into his study, a small room filled almost

to overflowing with books and memorabilia. Once everyone

was inside, he softly closed the door, turned to them, and said

“Well, when they ask you what you did for the war, you can

tell them you were over here, you sat in my study, and we

worked out the plan.”18

The men listened while General Griffith gave Russ a

rundown on the reworked plan. It incorporated Russ’s earlier

concerns and showed US forces initially attacking a single

nuclear facility and then pausing six to 12 hours to give the

Hussein regime an opportunity to respond. If the Iraqis did not

respond favorably, our forces would conduct larger and more

powerful strikes against targets in both Iraq and Kuwait

Russ’s total approval of this escalation plan was somewha

surprising to Griffith.19 He had expected the general to play

with the wording or edit out entire portions of the text, but

Russ made no changes.20 It wasn’t at all like him.

After the briefing, Russ sat back in his chair and ruminated

aloud his views on how the crisis should be handled. This new

TAC plan provided just exactly what was needed—a

demonstration of firm US resolve to eject the Iraqis from

Kuwait. Unlike the Instant Thunder crowd, he didn’t want to

go in there with guns blazing. Privately, he thought that

Warden’s bunch was “a group of hair-on-fire majors in

Washington that [thought they] were going to win the war al

by themselves.”21 Russ had been in the joint arena too long to

believe that anybody would ever allow the Air Force to operate

alone.22

Colonel Bristow had been fidgeting on the edge of the couch

ever since Russ started talking. He broke in, “Sir, you know

this looks a whole lot like Vietnam—this idea of demonstration

and then standing back and seeing what is going to

happen.”23 General Russ looked at Bristow and smiled, “Rich

the problem is, in today’s era, the people and the politica

situation are not right for an all-out war.” 24 In Russ’s view, th

American press and public would simply not support it

Besides, the kind of intense activity called for in Instant

Thunder was downright dangerous! If not properly controlled

44
the fighting could spread to other areas in the Middle East and

beyond. Bob Russ did not want any part of a plan that, in his

view, could put the United States in the position of starting

World War III. That was something he simply couldn’

tolerate.25

Russ ordered Griffith’s team to take the TAC plan to

Washington as soon as possible and work with the folks in the

Pentagon. He explained again to Bristow and the others tha

the outcome he was looking for was a tactically sound plan

that would have the support of the American people and would

result in the Iraqis leaving Kuwait.26 There was littl

discussion after that. Griffith and the rest of the group stood

bid the general and his wife—who had been graciously holding

supper all the while—a good night, and left the house.

Once outside, Griffith and the colonels lingered under the

streetlamp near their parked cars, discussing the evening’s

events. Alex Bettinger made it clear he didn’t want to go to

Washington. He was already working with Maj Gen Mike Ryan

and the other TAC planners, trying to make some sense of the

logistics flow into theater. He was simply too busy with

beddown problems to head off to D.C. and wrestle with John

Warden and his group. Besides, the other guys were more

than up to the task. Griffith listened patiently, nodding his

head in agreement. Since none of the others seemed to mind

the general decided that Bristow, Bigelow, and Hawkins would

leave for the Pentagon the following morning.27

Before they could go, however, Griffith wanted the entire

TAC plan—the one Russ had just approved—faxed up to

General Alexander’s office to give those Pentagon guys

something to think about. Little could he know that the fate o

Instant Thunder and the entire air campaign had, for the mos

part, already been decided.

Notes

1. Brig Gen Tom Griffith and Col Alex Bettinger, Langley AFB, Va.

transcript of interview with Lt Col Suzanne B. Gehri and author, 26

September 1991, 7, Desert Story Collection, US Air Force Historica

Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala.

2. Ibid., 2.

45
3. Col Richard D. Bristow, Langley AFB, Va., transcript of interview with

Lt Col Edward C. Mann and author, 9 November 1992, 4, Desert Story

Collection, US Air Force Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala.

4. Gen Robert D. Russ, Alexandria, Va., transcript of interview with

Lt Col Suzanne B. Gehri, Lt Col Edward C. Mann, and author, 9 December

1991, 19, Desert Story Collection, US Air Force Historical Research Agency

Maxwell AFB, Ala.

5. Ibid., 19–21.

6. Griffith/Bettinger, 26 September 1991, 11.

7. Ibid., 15.

8. Russ, 9 December 1991, 21.

9. Bristow, 9 November 1992, 10.

10. Russ, 9 December 1991, 11.

11. Griffith/Bettinger, 26 September 1991, 10–11.

12. Russ, 9 December 1991, 13.

13. Bristow, 9 November 1992, 5–6. Colonel Bettinger destroyed al

copies of this plan, and none are now known to exist.

14. Ibid., 5.

15. Ibid., 6.

16. Griffith/Bettinger, 26 September 1991, 19.

17. Message, 100145Z Aug 90, Tactical Air Combat Operations

Langley AFB, Va., to commander, CENTAF, deployed, chief, USMTM

Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. (Secret) General Horner’s handwritten comments on

the document are unclassified.

18. Bristow, 9 November 1992, 9.

19. Giffith/Bettinger, 26 September 1991, 19.

20. Ibid.

21. Russ, 9 December 1991, 23.

22. Ibid.

23. Bristow, 9 November 1992, 11.

24. Ibid.

25. Ibid., 10.

26. Ibid.

27. Griffith/Bettinger, 26 September 1991, 4.

46
Chapter 4

Thu/9 Aug 90/Pentagon/Wash DC

Standing in front of General May’s expansive, paper-strewn desk

General Alexander could hardly believe what he was hearing! The

speaker phone was on, and May was talking with Mike Ryan, TAC’s

director of operations, about the Instant Thunder plan tha

Alexander had faxed to Langley earlier in the day. “I like everything

after the last slide,”1 said Ryan, his voice distorted and tinny as i

came through the gray speaker box that sat half-buried under a pile

of May’s paperwork. The acerbic comment cut like a knife through

Alexander, and his round, bespectacled face twisted in pain. May

noticed and gave him a wry “I told you so” kind of grimace, as he

listened to the TAC general go on about why he thought Instan

Thunder was so far off the mark.

Alexander hardly heard the rest of the conversation. The quiet

soft-spoken general could not fathom why anyone, let alone TAC

would have such a visceral reaction to the Instant Thunder

planning effort. It wasn’t as though he or any of his people were

grandstanding! General Schwarzkopf himself had asked fo

assistance, and they, in good faith, had been working the

problem as diligently as possible! Why this horrible fuss over the

Air Staff’s attempt to deliver a workable plan to an operationa

CINC? Was it a matter of mucking with somebody else’s rice

bowl? Was that what TAC’s dislike for Instant Thunder really

boiled down to? He didn’t know—at least not yet.

May’s reaction to Ryan’s critique, however, was very

different from Alexander’s. He had never been too keen on

either the plan or Warden’s shenanigans. His boss, Lt Gen

Jimmie Adams, felt the same way. Despite the fact that Adams

was on vacation, May had called him several times that week

to keep him updated on the directorate’s activities. Adams

indicated that he was concerned about the Air Staff getting

involved in this kind of war planning. It could send the wrong

signals to a lot of people. In May’s mind, General Ryan’s

comments confirmed that Instant Thunder had already done

that—at least in the eyes of TAC’s leadership.

47
Later, as Alexander slowly walked back to his office, oblivious

to the faster-paced younger officers and enlisted people who

swirled past him in the corridors, it occurred to him that Genera

Ryan and probably all of TAC thought he and Warden were out

of their minds! How could there be such controversy over

something as straightforward as strategic attack? How? He was

absolutely floored!2 Back at his desk, Alexander picked up the

secure phone and called Lt Gen Charles G. Boyd, commander o

Air University. Alexander had been talking with Boyd abou

Instant Thunder, on and off, for the past several days, and the

AU commander had been very encouraging. Maybe he could

offer some suggestions on what to do next.

The call went through, and Alexander quickly filled Boyd in on

the TAC response. Registering no surprise, the general reminded

Alexander that he had warned him it wouldn’t be easy to

convince people of the soundness of the Instant Thunder plan. A

lot of folks, including a sizable contingent of Air Force people

were suspicious of any view that made air power anything more

than an adjunct to ground operations. In General Boyd’s view

this permanent subordination of air power to ground attack was

crippling and dysfunctional. Tens of thousands of US ground

troops might lose their lives if air power were squandered away

piecemeal instead of being employed as Air Force doctrine

intended it to be. Boyd had said as much to Alexander in earlier

conversations. Warden too.

The conversation ended minutes later with Boyd promising

Alexander a quick response on the Instant Thunder plan from

a small group of Air University people who, per Boyd’s

instructions, had been poring over the document since it

arrived on the classified fax machine.* Boyd told Alexander

that, as far as he was concerned, the plan was “right on.” 

*The US Air Force Wargaming Center at Maxwell AFB, Ala., faxed AU’s comment

to General Alexander at 1930, 9 August 1990. Surprisingly, they were very critical o

Instant Thunder and even took exception to the plan’s strategic objectives, saying they

were “inappropriate and probably counterproductive.” The entire critique bore an

uncanny resemblance to the one prepared by General Griffith’s people at TAC, which

advocated a demonstration of the capability to destroy targets of “high national value.

Fax from USAF Wargaming Center to Director of Plans, Headquarters USAF, Deptula

file 5, Desert Story Collection, US Air Force Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB

Ala.

48
Alexander carefully placed the phone back in its cradle and

gazed out his fourth-floor window at the airliners climbing ou

over the Potomac from National Airport. He watched for a long

time, undisturbed and totally immersed in his thoughts abou

the internal Air Force conflict over the application of air power

As he thought, the exact meaning of what Boyd and Warden

had been talking about slowly dawned on him. 4

Alexander and Warden made several more trips to Genera

Loh’s office that morning for a final “tweaking” of the Instant

Thunder presentation they were scheduled to give to Genera

Schwarzkopf the next day. They shifted a few targets

including some communications nodes, from one category to

another and removed the slide on strategic rings after TAC

insisted it was an “academic bunch of crap.” 5 All and all

though, the thrust and content of the original briefing

remained unchanged.

In the late afternoon, General Ryan called back to

Washington and made it clear that his boss, Gen Bob Russ

was not happy with the Instant Thunder plan. He cautioned

General May that it was imperative the Instant Thunder

briefing team not speak to Schwarzkopf before they personally

came down and briefed the TAC folks, including General Russ

Taking Ryan’s warning to heart, May quickly called in Genera

Alexander and ordered him “not [to] brief Schwarzkopf withou

briefing TAC.”6 Alexander was in a real fix now because the

flight had already been set up for a direct trip from

Washington to MacDill AFB in Tampa. The only person with

the authority to change that was Gen Mike Loh himself, and it

was getting very late in the staffing process to do that.

Fri/10 Aug 90/Pentagon/Wash DC

Minutes before the morning staff meeting, Alexander and

May pulled General Loh aside and spoke with him about the

briefing schedule. Alexander was uncharacteristically direct

“General Adams said we must go down there, and TAC says we

must come down there and brief them first.” May nodded his

agreement. Alexander hesitated for an instant, as though

49
thinking better of it, but then blurted out, “General Russ

wants to see this!”

Loh said, “Well, okay.”7

In the blink of an eye, the whole issue had been decided. To

all appearances, the briefing schedule was set in stone—firs

TAC, then CENTCOM. Warden, however, couldn’t live with the

arrangement. Shortly after the morning staff meeting with

General Loh broke up and most of the participants had left, he

took the general aside and proposed that instead of going to

TAC, they take the briefing to Hanscom AFB in Massachusetts

for General Dugan’s personal review. Warden argued that this

approach would eliminate any squabbling about who had fina

authority on what was being presented to Genera

Schwarzkopf. General Loh—dark circles forming under his

eyes from lack of sleep and the strain of trying to mollify TAC

yet produce a credible option for General Schwarzkopf—

shoved his hands deep into his pockets and walked a short

distance from Warden, head down, weighing the proposal

Warden stood waiting near the doorway a long time before

General Loh finally turned to him and nodded his consent

The general then hurried off to call Dugan to advise him of the

change in plans.8

Loh reached the Air Force chief of staff on the first try and

explained John Warden’s idea of bringing the Instant Thunder

briefing to Hanscom for his personal review. The chief quickly

rejected the suggestion and told Loh to forget about coming up

to see him—or stopping at Langley for that matter. Time was o

the essence. Dugan made it clear that he was comfortable

enough with Warden and the Instant Thunder plan to allow

Warden’s team to brief it to Schwarzkopf now. He told Loh to

send them directly to MacDill.9 The conversation ended

minutes later with Loh agreeing to do as he was told.

Not 15 minutes after Warden’s meeting with General Loh

Minter Alexander was about to walk out the door on his way to

Andrews AFB, where he would catch a plane that would take

him first to Langley and then, if all went well there, to MacDill

His secretary stopped him just as he was walking through the

door, waving frantically and pointing to the phone. Genera

Loh was on the line, and he wanted to talk with him now

Alexander put the receiver to his ear and set his slim, leather

50
briefcase down with his free hand. “I’ve changed my mind,

said Loh in a very matter-of-fact tone. “Go straight to see

Schwarzkopf. Do not go to TAC.”

For a moment, Alexander didn’t know what to say. He

couldn’t believe the vice-chief was going to take on the TAC

commander, four-star-general Bob Russ—a man who was

senior to Loh by a full six years! Unaware of Loh’s earlier

conversation with General Dugan, Alexander couldn’t make

sense of this change of plans, especially after Loh had been

told only hours before by both May and Alexander that his

own operations and plans deputy, Gen Jimmie Adams, had

made it clear that going to TAC was the prudent thing to do

What was going on? he asked himself, as his right hand

absentmindedly adjusted the few gray hairs he had left on his

balding head.

“Don’t call them or anything. You just go straight to see

Schwarzkopf.”10

The call was over almost before it began, yet it changed

everything. “Loh is fearless,”11 thought Alexander as h

walked away. He had never seen anybody like him. But then

again, he had yet to meet H. Norman Schwarzkopf. He would

get his chance soon enough.

At 1030 the small executive jet carrying Alexander, Warden

and three additional planners* lifted off from Andrews AFB

and quickly disappeared into the leaden skies. Alexander and

Warden wasted no time pulling out their briefing materials

and going over the Instant Thunder presentation with the

other men, looking for any flaws that might weaken their case

or, worse yet, cause them to fail. They discussed at length the

slide on the importance of Arab “face” and talked abou

General Dugan’s search for innovative thinkers to handle Arab

cultural questions as they related to the conduct of the war. 12

The team then discussed Gen Lee Butler’s reaction to the

Instant Thunder briefing that Warden had given him a few

hours before they took off for MacDill. A key member of the

JCS, Butler was considered by many to be one of the brightest

*The planners Warden selected to attend the briefing were Lt Col Ron Stanfill, L

Col Ben Harvey, and Lt Col Larry Eckberg. Harvey, 15. (Secret) Information extracted

is unclassified (see note 8).

51
and most capable Air Force generals on active duty. Warden

and Alexander knew that Butler’s support of the Instan

Thunder plan would be very beneficial in the joint arena.

Happily for both men, General Butler’s reaction to the plan

had been favorable. The more he heard about it, the more he

liked it, exclaiming, “Excellent, excellent! This is the exac

opposite of what we did in Vietnam! This is what we want!” 1

Despite his enthusiasm, Butler stopped short of agreeing to

jump in and take full sponsorship of the plan for the Joint

Staff.14 Instead, he asked General Alexander to brief him on

Schwarzkopf’s assessment of Instant Thunder as soon as they

returned. Full support from anyone in the JCS would simply

have to wait.

At 1245, as the plane nosed over and began its descent into

MacDill, the team members stowed the briefing materials and

returned to their seats. Warden mused aloud that if they could

get Schwarzkopf’s approval no later than the 12th, they could

be ready to execute by the 18th! That would allow enough time

to implement a deception plan that had coalition forces slowly

building to strike Kuwait, when in fact a sizable air armada o

the right aircraft could, within days, go after the very heart o

Saddam Hussein’s power base—Iraq itself.15

Palm trees and brightly colored houses tucked neatly into

the recesses of Tampa Bay gradually increased from toy- to

life-size as the jet carrying Alexander and Warden flared onto

the runway at MacDill and taxied to a halt. When the hatch

opened, a flood of warm, tropical air entered the cabin, fogging

over the windows and making things damp and sticky

Warden tugged at his collar and tried to smooth the wrinkles

that rapidly appeared in his uniform as he and the rest of the

party clambered into vehicles that took them to the monolithic

structure which served as Schwarzkopf’s headquarters.

Once inside the building, they were escorted through the

security checkpoint and began winding their way through a

labyrinth of corridors. Alexander and Warden spotted the

familiar face of Burt Moore, the USCENTCOM operations

director. They greeted each other warmly, and as they walked

along the narrow passageway, Moore explained that the

Instant Thunder briefing would take place in his office—no

General Schwarzkopf’s. Furthermore, only Schwarzkopf

52
Moore, and the deputy commander, Gen Buck Rogers, would

attend from the CENTCOM side.

The J-3’s office was on the first floor of the building, wel

back and several corridors removed from the main entrance

Once they arrived, Moore ushered the group inside. The

nondescript outer office, occupied by a stern-looking secretary

had several wooden desks and an ancient, overstuffed leather

couch that rested on a worn-out carpet that should have been

replaced ages ago. Even the paintings on the walls looked as

though they belonged to a different time and place. The men

grew restless as they stood with briefcases and slides in hand

trying to engage in small talk as they waited for generals

Rogers and Schwarzkopf to arrive.

It didn’t take long. The two senior officers entered, and

General Moore quickly introduced them to Alexander and his

party. Schwarzkopf was carrying a large omelette and a glass

of milk, which he took into Moore’s inner office. 16 This room

although smaller than the outer office, was better decorated

and more cheerful. A large, neatly arranged walnut desk was

at one end of the room, while the other end contained a smal

conference table and chairs. Schwarzkopf ambled over to the

table and seated himself. The others joined him, their backs to

a wall covered with flying memorabilia gleaned from Moore’s

many years as a fighter pilot.

Warden sat on Schwarzkopf’s left and gave him the briefing

using paper copies of the Vu-Graphs the team had brough

with them. The colonel was very upbeat and didn’t appear at

all intimidated as he spoke to the CINC. He began by

introducing the Instant Thunder plan by name, referring to i

as a proposal for a strategic air campaign, and then quickly

outlined the reasons such a plan could and should be

implemented.

 From there he moved into a discussion of objectives—firs

presidential, then military. Warden made certain tha

Schwarzkopf was aware of the deliberate links between the

military and presidential objectives and their relationship to

the campaign in general. He made no mention of the fact that

the presidential objectives were nothing more than selected

segments of White House news releases and recen

presidential speeches that the Checkmate planners had pieced

53
together. Neither Schwarzkopf nor the other two CENTCOM

officers questioned him.

The strategy behind these objectives was elegant in its

simplicity—destroy Saddam Hussein’s ability to wage war by

destroying targets critically important to his regime. Doing so

Warden argued, would require pitting US strengths agains

Iraqi weaknesses—specifically, US air and naval power agains

Iraqi air defenses. The Iraqi army was big, in place, and very

casualty tolerant. Many months would pass before enough US

ground forces and equipment could be brought in-theater to

challenge Saddam’s troops in a confrontation that might be

too late and—just as important—too bloody. Instead, Warden

advocated selective destruction of key Iraqi targets, most o

which were within Iraq itself. Warden laid out target sets

within each of the five categories included in his nation-state

model (minus the ring chart). Under the leadership category

he talked about incapacitating the Hussein regime by

destroying targets such as civil and military telecommuni

cations and C2 nodes. The key production category included

targets such as power storage and distribution stations as wel

as internal oil distribution and storage terminals. The colone

cautioned against destroying Iraq’s oil production capability

for fear the nation would not be able to pay any war debts or

rebuild itself after hostilities. He paid particular attention to

ridding Iraq of its NBC production and research facilities

emphasizing that this target set had to be destroyed if Iraq

were to cease being a threat to the rest of the world. 17

The Iraqi railroads formed a single target set under the

infrastructure category. These lucrative targets would be easy

to hit in the desert because their locations were well known

and hard to hide. The right laydown of munitions would

produce huge bottlenecks of enemy supplies, which were

excellent targets themselves. In keeping with Instan

Thunder’s concept of operations, which called for an absolute

minimum of civilian casualties and collateral damage, 1

Warden excluded direct attacks in the population category

Instead, he advocated strategic and tactical psychologica

operations (PSYOPS) that focused on isolating the Hussein

regime from the Iraqi people, foreign workers, and conscripted

soldiers serving in Kuwait.

54
Warden paused a moment and looked around the room. Lt Co

Ben Harvey, one of the Checkmate planners, had just come

through the door after being denied access earlier due to a

problem with the transfer of his clearance.19 He sat down with

the two other Checkmate people on the far side of the room and

attempted to make himself as inconspicuous as possible

Generals Rogers and Moore had sat impassively as Warden

talked and now were simply staring at him, waiting for the other

shoe to fall. But Schwarzkopf, who had contented himself at the

beginning of the briefing with slowly chewing on his omelette

and drinking milk, was now eating much faster and almos

smiling. It made for an odd combination—the burly general’s

mouth slightly open, chewing and grinning at the same time. 20

Warden pressed on, outlining attacks against Saddam

Hussein’s strategic air defense system as well as his entire

offensive air capability. Under the Instant Thunder plan, the

fielded forces (the fifth category) that would be subjected to

violent attack and massive destruction would be Hussein’s

bombers, fighters, missiles, and their control mechanisms (i.e.

air defense facilities, radar sites, launch centers, etc.). The

ground forces in Kuwait and those in Iraq near or on the border

would be attacked only if they attempted to move forward out o

their positions and into Saudi Arabia. This restriction would

avoid laying waste to Kuwait in an attempt to restore it.

Warden showed how a mix of approximately 500 aircraf

could do the whole job in six to nine flying days (i.e., in good

weather), but—as he told Schwarzkopf—he would need some

changes in the deployment flow to pull it off. If the genera

gave approval no later than 12 August, A-10s could be moved

up to counter any Iraqi armored advance. Further, an increase

in the number of B-52s, F-117s, and F-111s would allow the

strategic air campaign to start as early as 18 August. Warden

stepped through the execution phase of Instant Thunder using

a series of charts that succinctly explained why each target set

was being attacked, what kinds of things made up the target

set, and how the targets would be neutralized.

As Warden briefed the final stages of the plan’s execution

phase, Schwarzkopf’s demeanor made it clear that the genera

was pleased with what he was hearing. But generals Rogers

and Moore were not. In fact, Moore interrupted Warden as he

55
started to talk about striking the palace bunker in Baghdad

and other facilities included in the leadership category: “Watch

what you are saying! I’m not exactly sure about this.” 21

Before Moore could finish, Schwarzkopf’s voice boomed

“That’s exactly what I want!” Up to this point the CINC had

said nothing, but now he was talking fast, his face animated

and full of energy. “Do it!” he said. “You have my

approval—100 percent! This is absolutely essential! I will cal

the chairman today and have him give you a directive to

proceed with detailed planning immediately.”22

The general half stood, leaning forward and resting his

massive hands on the small conference table. He looked big in

his battle-dress uniform (BDU) and polished boots—bigger and

stronger than he did when he came into the room. It was as

though someone had just lifted a heavy burden off his

shoulders. Many of the things Warden had been talking about

had been circulating in Schwarzkopf’s mind for days, but he

hadn’t been able to articulate them. Now, after seeing Instant

Thunder, he had a clear idea of what he needed to do.

“I have briefed the president on a lot of elements of this, but

lots of folks are leaning backwards, saying it is too hard to do,”

said Schwarzkopf, looking directly at Moore and Rogers. He

turned and faced Warden, almost leaning over him.

“You have restored my confidence in the United States Air

Force. CENTAF can’t do planning. Do it the way you want,” he

said, nodding his head.

“It is up to the Air Force. [expletive deleted], I love it!”

Schwarzkopf exclaimed loudly, slapping his hand on top of the

briefing charts. “You are the first guys that have been leaning

forward. I’m glad to see it. This is exactly what I want!” 23

The CINC picked up the briefing material and held it out in

front of him. “We are dealing with a crazy man, and he is going

to lash out. We can’t afford to have [just] options to fall back

on!* He will attack Saudi Arabia, do something nasty to the

hostages, drop chemicals on Israel. This is where America has

the edge!” Schwarzkopf paced around the table, talking to no

*This comment about not being able to rely solely on “options” reveal

Schwarzkopf’s frustration with the limited military responses advocated by CENTAF

and CENTCOM planners at that time.

56
one in particular. “If we invade Kuwait,” he mused, “they wil

destroy it. This might leave Kuwait intact.” He walked over to

Moore’s desk and turned to the group. “After you do this,” he

said, holding the Instant Thunder papers up for everyone to

see, “we will drop leaflets on his frontline forces and tell them

they are out of business. If they don’t believe it, let them try

and call home! Your [expletive deleted] is next!” 24

A small discussion on some of the details concerning the

plan ensued, but after Schwarzkopf’s rousing endorsement

neither Rogers nor Moore offered any serious objections

General Alexander spoke up: “We need to get TAC involved.”

But Schwarzkopf simply ignored the comment and

continued thinking aloud. “I’ll tell the chairman. What do you

lose by planning? So what if it leaks? It took us a long time to

do this in Vietnam, and we never did it in the Iranian hostage

[crisis]!”

Alexander piped in, “We will throw everything at it!”

“I’m with you,” said Schwarzkopf, shaking the Instan

Thunder papers in front of Alexander. “This will lower losses

We must get this to the chairman before Monday!” 25 Turnin

to Warden, the general continued, “Okay, now I’ve got some

additional instructions for you. I want you to think about some

other options, one of which is using Turkey. Can I use Turkey

and if I use Turkey, put together another option for using

Turkey. Tell me how soon I can do this—what we would have

to change in order to do it very quickly. Give me some feel on

the logistics and so on.”26

Alexander was uncomfortable during this whole exchange

He knew that his boss, General Adams, would not be happy i

the Air Staff ended up shoulders deep in CENTCOM planning

especially if TAC were not given an opportunity to take the

lead. He cleared his throat and addressed Schwarzkopf in his

calmest voice. “Now, sir,” he said, reaching for the Instan

Thunder charts, “we are going to have to take this to TAC and

let TAC get to work on this.”

Schwarzkopf exploded. “No!” he shouted, poking a finger a

Alexander, “I want you to do it.” He gave Alexander and

Warden a week to flesh out the Instant Thunder plan and

bring it back to him in an expanded and executable form. 27

57
The meeting broke up 30 minutes after it began

Schwarzkopf lingered for a few minutes in the doorway o

Moore’s office, talking to the lieutenant colonels who had

accompanied Warden and Alexander to MacDill. Alexander

was still at the table talking with General Moore when he saw

Warden walk over to Schwarzkopf, touch him lightly on the

shoulder, and tell him that the Instant Thunder plan would

make a hero out of him, “[in the same] category [as] MacArthur

and Patton.” Alexander was horrified! Such an outlandish

comment could jeopardize everything they had done to this

point and take them out of the planning process altogether

What possessed Warden to say such a thing to a four-star

general he didn’t even know less than an hour ago? Warden

with his almost passionate belief in air power and his

overwhelming confidence in the Instant Thunder plan, had

gone too far this time. Unfortunately, Alexander was in no

position to save him. To Alexander’s amazement, however

Schwarzkopf loved the comment! He smiled broadly, puffed

out his chest, and strode confidently from the room. 28

After General Rogers left, Moore closed the door to his inner

office and huddled with Alexander and the other Air Staf

planners. He cautioned them that despite Schwarzkopf’s

enthusiasm and apparent endorsement of the Instant Thunder

plan, any changes that they might want to make in the

deployment flow would be difficult because of base saturation

problems. Furthermore, changes tended to displace a lot o

other vital “stuff” that needed to get to the theater. Moore

suggested they send one or two people down to his directorate

to help coordinate activity on the plan. 29 Alexander agreed to

work with Moore on these issues.

Warden and the lieutenant colonels finished putting away

the briefing materials while Alexander and Moore continued

their conversation. As they packed, Moore’s secretary knocked

softly on the door, walked into the room, and told them their

transportation to the airfield was waiting outside. Moore stood

wished them a speedy trip back to Washington, and excused

himself, explaining he had to return to the operations center.

Outside, the air was hotter and even more humid than when

they had arrived two hours earlier. Warden scarcely noticed

He was elated with the turn of events and utterly preoccupied

58
with preparing a briefing for General Powell, as well as

planning his return visit to Schwarzkopf. His mind raced

trying to figure out how much time he would have before

briefing Powell and how best to approach this most influentia

of four-stars. At the terminal, he got an answer to one of his

questions. Alexander announced that Schwarzkopf’s office had

just advised him the meeting with the chairman was set for

0930 the next morning in General Powell’s office. Warden

would have to figure out the other answer for himself—in less

than 16 hours.

Notes

1. Lt Gen Robert M. Alexander, Washington, D.C., transcript of interview

with Lt Col Suzanne B. Gehri, Lt Col Edward C. Mann, and author, 30 May

1991, 10, Desert Story Collection, US Air Force Historical Research Agency

Maxwell AFB, Ala.

2. Ibid., 10, 14.

3. Ibid., 14.

4. Ibid.

5. Ibid., 12.

6. Ibid., 12, 15.

7. Ibid., 15.

8. Notes, Lt Col Ben Harvey, 15, Desert Story Collection, US Air Force

Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala. (Secret) Information

extracted here and in subsequent references is unclassified. Hereinafte

referred to as Harvey.

9. Ibid.

10. Alexander, 30 May 1991, 15, 16.

11. Ibid., 15.

12. Harvey, 16.

13. Alexander, 30 May 1991, 25.

14. Harvey, 16.

15. Ibid.

16. Lt Gen Robert M. Alexander, Washington, D.C., transcript o

interview with Lt Col Suzanne B. Gehri, Lt Col Edward C. Mann, and

author, 3 June 1992, 16, Desert Story Collection, US Air Force Historica

Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala.

17. Col John A. Warden III, “Desert Storm Air Campaign,” presentation

to the USAF Air and Space Doctrine Symposium, Maxwell AFB, Ala., 6–8

April 1993. A hard copy of Colonel Warden’s slides is in the Desert Story

Collection, US Air Force Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala.

18. Ibid., 3.

19. Col John A. Warden III, Washington, D.C., transcript of interview

with Lt Col Suzanne B. Gehri, 22 October 1991, 63, Desert Story Collection

US Air Force Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala.

20. Alexander, 3 June 1992, 16.

59
21. Alexander, 30 May 1991, 17.

22. Ibid., 16, 28.

23. Ibid., 17, 28.

24. Ibid., 28–29.

25. Ibid.

26. Warden, 22 October 1991, 64, 66.

27. Alexander, 30 May 1991, 17.

28. Ibid., 16.

29. Harvey, 17.

60
Col John Warden leads an Instant Thunder planning session in earl

August 1990 in the Checkmate office at the Pentagon.

61
62
63
64
65
66
Posted results at day’s end (30 January 1991) during the Gulf War.

67
68
69
Chapter 5

Sat/11 Aug 90/Pentagon/Wash DC

John Warden took a deep breath and began briefing Gen Colin

Powell, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff (CJCS), on the Instant

Thunder plan. Although the chairman shared the large, round

conference table with 12 high-ranking officers and civilians

Warden addressed his remarks exclusively to Powell. His voice

was controlled and measured, with barely a hint of the pent-up

nervous energy and sleeplessness he had felt during the last 16

hours. Some of the JCS big guns were there, including Adm David

Jeremiah, vice-chairman; Lt Gen Mike Carns, director of the Join

Staff; Lt Gen Tom Kelly, director of operations; and Lt Gen Lee

Butler, director of strategic plans (J-5).

The Air Force team consisted of generals Loh, May, and

Alexander, as well as a sprinkling of Checkmate planners who

managed to find the cheap seats along the wall. Warden went

through the plan in much the same fashion he had with

Schwarzkopf the day before. After the colonel finished, Powel

pushed his chair back from the table, clasped his hands, and

said, “Good plan! Very fine piece of work!” 1

Alexander, obviously pleased by Powell’s reaction

cautiously explained to the chairman and the others at the

table that Instant Thunder was not something that could be

done piecemeal. This comment came as no surprise to the men

who had worked on the plan. Since returning from MacDill

they had discussed possible service reactions to Instan

Thunder, one of their biggest concerns being an Army

comment along the lines of “You can take out the leadership

but don’t hit the bunkers.” Consequently, Alexander took grea

pains to prevent any such mutilation of the concept

explaining to Powell that Instant Thunder was an integrated

plan and that chopping it into parts would certainly destroy it

Loh interrupted Alexander with a wave of the hand and

pointed to the briefing slides in front of Powell: “It is a highly

integrated plan like the Bekaa Valley [Lebanon] but more

massive than Linebacker [Vietnam].”2

71
Powell nodded and turned toward Warden, who had been

fidgeting nervously while the generals talked. “The strategic air

campaign cuts out the guts and heart, but what about the

hands?”

Warden drew himself up to his full height and answered

confidently, “The strategic air campaign will isolate Hussein

virtually assuring that most forces could walk home.” 3

A short discussion ensued between Warden and the

chairman on the diversion of Instant Thunder resources to

handle additional taskings. “Now, General,” said Warden, his

voice growing hard and a little edgy as it became clear that

Powell was thinking about diverting some of Instant Thunder’s

aircraft to ground support, “one of the things we really need to

be careful about is that if there’s some action on the ground

you can’t reroll the strategic air campaign. You’ve got to press

with the strategic air campaign. We made that mistake in

World War II, and we don’t want to do that again.” 4 The retor

was pure Warden, and the people in the room who had never

seen him in action before were appalled at his audacity and

candor with the chairman. General Alexander, all too familiar

with Warden’s antics, was beginning to turn pale.

When the topic turned to additional centers of gravity

Warden explained that he wanted to hit the Republican Guard

in Iraq but was opposed to taking out the ground forces along

the front lines in southern Kuwait. The colonel was convinced

that if anyone could overthrow Saddam, it was the conscripted

army he would leave as cannon fodder to replace his elite

Republican Guard invasion force when the latter pulled back

from the front. According to Warden, that army might very wel

march home en masse and defeat what was left of Saddam’s

loyal forces. That accomplished, a new leadership formed from

within the conscript army could establish a new and more

favorable government in Iraq.

General Powell listened patiently and when Warden

finished, said in a low, even voice, “If we go this far in the air

campaign, I want to finish it. Destroy the Iraqi army on the

ground.” His fingers drummed out a silent rhythm on the

highly polished table as he looked into the faces of the men

who had brought him the plan. “I don’t want them to go home

I want to leave smoking tanks as kilometer posts all the way to

72
Baghdad.”5 The room became quiet as the enormity of Powell’s

statement sunk in. Even the air-conditioning fans, which were

barely audible before, now seemed loud and abrasive.

General Kelly was the first to speak. He had sat icily through

Warden’s entire presentation, but the chairman’s comments

seemed to bring him back to life. “Well,” said Kelly, “air power

has never worked in the past by itself; [ne-e-e-ver] worked in

the past by itself. This isn’t going to work. Air power can’t be

decisive!” Kelly bolstered his position by referring to World War

II aerial bombardment: “All it did was reinforce the enemy’s

will to resist. This air campaign,” he went on, gesturing toward

Warden, “maybe there are some interesting things to it, but 

don’t think that it is right yet.”6

Loh jumped in before anyone else could respond. “It can be

decisive and provide another set of conditions for future

action, or if you hit the right set of targeting [you won’t need

any future actions].”7 Unfortunately, everyone at the table

then began talking about the simultaneous execution o

Instant Thunder and a yet-to-be-devised land campaign—

precisely the discussion Alexander and Loh sought to avoid

Warden, Loh, and Alexander argued against the idea o

simultaneous execution. Even Butler, who up to this time had

said little, sided with Warden and the others. It was Admira

Jeremiah, though, who managed to get the discussion back on

track.

“What if you flow [forces and equipment] for the strategic air

campaign and then flow for land operations?”8 asked

Jeremiah. That seemed to make sense to everyone, including

Chairman Powell.

“Once you’ve done strategic,” said Powell, “you don’t want to

leave Hiroshima and then wait for results.” 9

“Make sure operations to achieve tactical-level objectives

don’t compromise success of the strategic air campaign!

cautioned Alexander, his voice rising over the din caused by

everyone talking at the same time.

Powell waved him aside. “Right, but I can’t recommend only

the strategic air campaign to the president. The campaign 

laid out for the president was sweep the air, leave the tanks to

be picked off piecemeal. Make it joint.”10 Because Powel

73
focused on broader matters than anyone else at the table, he

was concerned about everything.

“When can we execute the strategic air campaign if we do

not alter the flow plan?” asked Butler.

“We don’t know,”11 said Warden candidly. He and the other

planners had spent hours discussing the flow and had high

hopes that this meeting would convince Powell to put pressure

on the supporting CINCs to flow what was really needed to

make Instant Thunder work.

Powell furrowed his brow and laid his military-issue reading

glasses on the table. “The strategic air campaign appears

ordnance-limited vice airplane-limited.”

“Tankers could be a limitation,” said Loh. “We have already

done some initial excursions and [have seen] we are going to

need more tankers.”12

“Come back and talk to me and to CINCCENT [commander

in chief, Central Command] on the logistics considerations,” 1

said Powell as he stood up, indicating that the meeting was

over. “We have to get a 15-to-20-minute version of the briefing

I need about five slides to brief the SECDEF.” 14 Powell picked

up his notes and walked out the door. The others followed

soon after.

Warden and the rest of the Air Force people in attendance

followed General Loh to his fourth-floor office to review the

tasking that had come out of the meeting. Loh realized that

Powell’s mandate to kill Iraqi armor would require wha

amounted to a two-phase plan: first, the strategic air

campaign and then the systematic destruction of Saddam’s

tanks and armored personnel carriers (APC) from the air. The

vice-chief told the group that, by nightfall, he wanted 15 good

slides from which Powell could select the five he needed to

brief the SECDEF. In addition, Loh wanted Warden’s people to

take a hard look at tanker and munitions limitations as they

applied to the execution of Instant Thunder. As the plan

evolved from a concept into an executable war-fighting

operation, these kinds of shortfalls could spell disaster unless

the planners recognized them early. The big thing, Genera

Loh reminded the group, was that they needed to do

everything in the name of the CINC (i.e., Schwarzkopf) and not

74
the Air Force. The operation had to be joint from head to toe

or it wouldn’t fly.

At 1130 colonels Bigelow, Bristow, and Hawkins—sent by

TAC to help with air campaign planning—arrived at the

Pentagon and made their way down to the Checkmate facility

Warden greeted the men enthusiastically and ushered them

inside. He knew from discussions with Alexander and Loh tha

TAC’s nose was still a little out of joint over the Instant

Thunder plan, and he wanted to do his best to quickly

incorporate these colonels into the planning process. 15 I

wasn’t going to be easy.

“Look, did you get a copy of the things that were faxed up

here from TAC concerning General Russ’s concerns?” asked

Dick Bigelow as he swung his padlocked briefcase onto a

nearby table.

Warden hesitated a split second. “Yes, we did, but it has

been decided not to use that.”16 The three colonels looked a

one another and then back at Warden. He led them into a

small conference area and gave them a detailed briefing on the

Instant Thunder plan and its development. They weren’

anymore impressed with the plan now than when they firs

took it off the fax machine at Langley two days ago.

Hawkins, a high-strung, dark-haired man of medium build

with thin lips and very pale skin, was the first to speak. “There

is a big flaw in what you are doing,” he said nervously. “If it is

an all-out campaign to win, you cannot forget about the

combat power/combat strength which is massed in Kuwait

which can move south and take a lot of the northern-tier bases

in Saudi and actually could move as far south as Riyadh!” 1

Warden dismissed that scenario as highly unlikely. The main

effort, he told them, was the strategic air campaign agains

Iraq itself.

“You can’t just go bomb Iraq and expect to win,” countered

Bristow, the tallest and quietest of the three TAC colonels. He

had dealt with Warden on other issues in the past and knew

full well how he operated. “You’ve got to consider the threat

along the Iraqi border!”18 Warden disagreed and explained his

position all over again, adding that both the CINC and now the

chairman were in agreement that the Instant Thunder plan

was a sound approach to the current crisis—they merely had

75
to expand it. Furthermore, Warden informed the group, the

plan had to be ready to meet an execution date of 3

September. The TAC colonels were speechless. They had no

idea things had moved so quickly. Just last night they had sat

in General Russ’s study and received their marching orders

Surely someone would have told Russ about changes as

sweeping as these!

Stunned, Bristow excused himself as Warden assigned each

TAC colonel to a different planning group, depending on his

interest and expertise. Bristow was amazed at the level o

activity around him. Everywhere he looked, people were

making calls and writing on boards. The main door to the

vault area opened every few minutes, and another new face

came through and disappeared into one of the cubbyholes that

lined the corridors in the Checkmate area. As Bristow walked

past what had recently served as the Checkmate bar,* he saw

at least 10 intelligence personnel working furiously on targe

folders. They were part of Col Jim Blackburn’s group that had

arrived the day before from the Air Force Intelligence Agency

(AFIA). After much foot-dragging on the part of Blackburn

AFIA’s director of targets, Warden had finally persuaded him

to move from his permanent location across the river at

Bolling AFB to the Checkmate basement. Now, thick reams o

computer printouts and hundreds of rolls of microfiche known

as automated tactical target graphics (ATTG)—all belonging to

Blackburn’s staff—were piled on top of the bar and scattered

on tables. People were plugging in highly classified computers

that were adrift in a tangle of cables and power cords. 1

Bristow stepped around the mess and made his way down the

hall. Soon he found an unused secure phone on the far side o

a large, dilapidated planning room. Yellow paint, long since

faded to gray, was caked on the walls. The tile floor was

stained and covered with scuff marks from carelessly moved

desks and chairs. He had no real privacy here, but people were

too busy to notice him.

*Fighter squadrons typically have a bar or break area somewhere in the unit. Afte

duty hours, pilots gather there to drink and discuss the day’s flying. Since man

fighter pilots worked in Checkmate, a bar was set aside for their use.

76
Bristow dialed General Griffith’s office and, once he got the

general on the line, waited for the phones to synchronize into

the secure mode. When “Top Secret, Langley AFB VA” flashed

on his receiver, Bristow started talking.

“Sir, the basic tenets that you submitted—the concept tha

came from TAC and General Russ—we have been told [tha

they] have been looked at and disregarded. They are pressing

on with the basic plan that you saw yesterday. They are going

to make some minor applications [sic] to it.” A long pause

ensued. For a minute, Bristow thought the line might have

dropped off. “By the way,” said Bristow, his voice rising slightly

in pitch as the machine scrambled his words and sent them to

Langley, “the execution date is 3 September.”

“You’ve got to be [expletive deleted] me!” choked Griffith.

“No, sir,” said Bristow, his heart pounding. “That is what we

are working towards . . . an early September execution.”

“Keep me informed, and give me a call back tonight before

you guys go home.”20

Bristow hung up, and the small screen on the receiver

flashed several times, indicating he had exited the secure

mode. He looked around the room, wondering if anyone had

overheard his conversation with Griffith. It didn’t matter. The

colonel had every right to keep TAC informed. The people up

here certainly didn’t seem interested in doing that.

Sun/12 Aug 90/Pentagon/Wash DC

As Lt Gen Jimmie Adams made his way up the wide steps o

the Pentagon’s River Entrance, he could scarcely control his

rage. It wasn’t the fact that his long-anticipated visit to Disney

World with his wife and grandson had been cut short by the

Iraqi invasion. What piqued him were the actions of a

particularly onerous staff officer—Col John A. Warden III. For

the first few days of his vacation, he stayed in touch with his

office using a secure phone installed in his VOQ room at

Patrick AFB, Florida, but his deputy, General May, soon

convinced him that Warden and the group he had assembled

in Checkmate were getting out of control. 21 On Friday

morning, Adams packed up, left Patrick, and drove to Atlanta

77
where he dropped off his grandson. The next day, he made the

grueling, 14-hour drive back to Washington. To make matters

worse, he had barely settled down in his quarters at Bolling

Saturday night when the phone rang. It was General Loh. The

vice-chief wanted him to come over to his quarters at Bolling

next morning for a breakfast meeting to discuss what they

needed to do with the planning effort Alexander and Warden

had started. Adams was not at all certain what had transpired

since he left Patrick, but he was not about to let the vice-chie

know that. After he finished talking with Loh, Adams started

making a flurry of phone calls to try to find out. What he

learned did not make him happy.

The heavy, wooden, automatic doors at the top of the

Pentagon’s River Entrance swung open, and General Adams

walked through. It was only a little after seven in the morning

but already the inner corridor felt cool compared to the hot

moisture-laden air outside. He showed his pass to the security

guard, who ushered him into the marble hall. Genera

Alexander was waiting for him, briefcase in hand

Apprehensive about what Adams might say and do, the plans

director didn’t look at all well. He had spent most of last

evening at the Pentagon along with General May. Both men

upon learning that Adams was cutting his vacation short, had

expected to see him that night. May waited until about 2000

hours and finally went home. Alexander stayed even later

Neither officer dreamed that Adams would drive all the way

back from Florida instead of catching a plane. None of that

mattered now. Alexander and Adams were face-to-face.

They walked behind the main corridor that led directly to

the chairman’s office and stood in a quiet, half-lit anteroom

discussing the events of the past few days. Alexander looked

around before he opened the leather briefcase and showed

Adams the Instant Thunder slides inside. As his boss flipped

through the material, Alexander casually mentioned that he

had reviewed the same slides with General Butler earlier that

morning. Adams turned on Alexander with a fury. He

excoriated the two-star for letting everything go in the wrong

direction. Warden was out of control again, and Alexander was

to blame. The painful silence that followed was broken only by

Adams muttering under his breath as he looked at each of the

78
remaining slides. He shoved them back into the briefcase and

motioned for Alexander to close it.22 In a hiss that could be

heard throughout the adjacent corridors, Adams let Alexande

know that he had no confidence in the plan. It reminded him

too much of Vietnam.23 Before dismissing the now thoroughly

shaken Alexander, Adams told him he was no longer needed

on the project. Adams would take control of it himself. He

stomped up the stairs and headed for his office, determined to

call Lt Col Foose Wilson the first chance he got. Adams needed

someone he could trust* to help clean up the mess that

Warden and Alexander had created.

Around 0930 Adams threw the stack of papers he had been

working on into his out basket and headed for General Loh’s

quarters and the breakfast meeting he’d been ordered to

attend. Because Bolling was just a short drive from the

Pentagon and Sunday traffic was light, Adams reached the

quiet, tree-lined street known as “generals’ row” within

minutes. He parked the car, leaving the windows down, and

made his way up the flowered path to Loh’s residence. The

beauty and order of the modest but impeccably maintained

house and grounds seemed completely out of synch with

Adams’s mood. General Carns had arrived earlier, and both he

and Loh were already at the breakfast table when Adams

walked in. They got right down to business.

Loh explained that Schwarzkopf had tasked him to pu

together an air campaign. In order to do that and make it joint

as the chairman requested, he needed some way to make

Adams, who was the Air Force operations deputy, a legitimate

representative of the Joint Staff. “We need you to be the air

guy, the air planner for the air campaign,” 24 said Loh, pointing

his coffee spoon at Adams. Loh was concerned that Lt Gen

Tom Kelly would dominate the whole process and drastically

diminish the contribution air could make to Schwarzkopf’s

campaign. He didn’t want that to happen, and neither did

Carns. Both men agreed to make Jimmie Adams the “deputy

J-3 for air.”25 This “official” title would help smooth any ruffled

*A member of the Fighter Mafia, Wilson was one of the few officers in operation

who had worked for both Adams and Horner. Adams was confident that Wilson ha

not and would not be co-opted by Warden and his followers.

79
feathers in the JCS and elsewhere over concerns about Air Force

involvement in the CINC’s planning. Carns was certain that Lee

Butler would agree to this approach and that even Kelly would

probably buy it for the time being. It was worth a try.

Adams got in his car and drove back to the Pentagon, his

head swimming with the huge and unwelcome task tha

General Loh had suddenly thrust upon him. [expletive deleted]

the last thing he wanted to do was get involved in Chuck

Horner’s and CENTCOM’s business! [expletive deleted] John

Warden and his ivory tower ideas about air power! He sped

past the old, deserted Pentagon boat-docking area with its

rows upon rows of brightly colored geraniums and pansies

where, years ago, a ferryboat delivered its daily cargo of Pentagon

employees who commuted to work from Bolling AFB. Adams

pulled into his parking slot at the River Entrance and made his

way inside. He took the poorly lit stairs at the left of the marble

and mahogany corridor and descended to the floors below.

The basement of the Pentagon is unlike anything the

Washington visitors see on their carefully guided tours

through one of the world’s largest office buildings. Open cables

hang haphazardly throughout the rambling, underground

labyrinth, and on the wider walkways, propane-powered

forklifts, laden with huge pallets of books and supplies, roar

by, catching the unwary pedestrian by surprise. The Pentagon

room-numbering system, so efficient and relatively easy to

understand on the other floors, didn’t apply in the controlled

chaos of the basement. Adams swung past the freigh

elevators and empty dustbins, heading for the purple water

fountain at the end of the corridor. There, he turned right and

pushed the entry bell at the Checkmate entrance.

Maj Gen Jim Meier, a JCS officer assigned to the J-3

opened the door and let him inside. Meier explained that he

and about 50 other joint officers were now involved in the

planning, having been recruited the day before when Powel

ordered the effort to become joint. This revelation did little for

Adams’s mood or blood pressure. After Warden and a

sheepish-looking Alexander led him to a briefing room where

all the other people had already assembled, they invited the

three-star to sit down and review the latest iterations of the

Instant Thunder plan.

80
Adams took a seat and looked at a room swirling with maps

charts, and people from all services. He watched as Warden

took some slides from one of his assistants, Lt Col Ron

Stanfill, and fairly skipped his way over to the Vu-Graph

machine. He seemed almost gleeful, shuffling through the

charts, pulling some out, and adding others in preparation for

the briefing. The longer Adams watched him, the angrier he

got. Soon his hands were shaking, and a hot, red flush made

its way from his neck to his face. Warden started talking

and—almost immediately—Adams cut him off, his voice

quivering, “I want to see the radio frequencies you are

planning to use!”26 Warden was not prepared to do that. His

focus, unlike Adams’s, was on the macro process. Frequencies

and other minutiae would come later. The colonel was certain

that Adams intended to discredit the plan before he even had a

chance to show it to him.27 No doubt Adams’s friends at TAC

including General Russ, had told him all sorts of negative

things. He wished that Alexander had never faxed the plan to

Langley—at least not as early as he had.

“We’re not really quite down to radio frequencies,” said

Warden in a soft, reassuring voice that masked his own anger

“We probably won’t get that for you, but let me sort of start at

the top and kind of review for you where we are and what the

ideas were.”28

Adams slumped down in his chair and motioned for Warden

to continue. The colonel ran through his entire pitch in about 30

minutes, explaining Schwarzkopf’s and Powell’s reactions to the

plan as well as the instructions he had received from Loh and

Dugan. By this time, Adams had cooled down a little. No fool, the

operations deputy fully understood the implications of the plan’s

tacit approval by the CINC, the chairman, and his own Air Force

bosses. Still, Adams had serious reservations about the plan and

didn’t hesitate to voice them.

He told the group that, overall, they had done a good job and

that he understood their tasking. However, he saw the air

campaign as a unilateral effort—one that called for the

takedown of Saddam Hussein but ignored the Iraqi troops

poised on the Saudi borders. If Adams were to have any

confidence in the plan, Warden and his people would have to

factor in real-world details on targeting and weaponeering

81
Further, he ordered Warden to drop the “six-to-nine-day” air

campaign slide, believing that such a prediction served no

useful purpose. The bombshell came when Adams stood up

and told the assembled group that the plan should focus on

destroying the Iraqi army and use whatever assets were left for

the strategic air campaign.29 Warden, who up to now had

been low-key and almost conciliatory, shot back, “That’s a

reversal of what the chairman of the joint chiefs said!” 3

General Meier, who had said nothing during Adams’s earlier

tirade, agreed with Warden and spoke in his defense. He too

understood that the strategic air campaign had first priority and

that it would precede any ground campaign. But Adams would

not relent, believing that the chairman and the CINC intended to

rid Kuwait of Iraqi ground forces in the second phase of Instant

Thunder. Warden countered with a blow-by-blow description o

his Saturday morning repartee with General Powell.

Determined not to let Warden think he could manage the air

war from the Pentagon, Adams growled, “We’re not writing

frags [fragmentary orders*] in the Pentagon. I learned tha

seven years ago.”31

Adams’s persistent chipping away at the Instant Thunder

plan took a toll on the normally very civilized and correct John

Warden. Without thinking, he blurted out, “We don’t want to

do a half-assed strategic campaign!”

“Right,” said Adams, walking up to the map displays and

putting his hand over Kuwait. “But we don’t want to leave

those Iraqi forces in place to kill 200,000 soldiers [either].” 32

The conversation degenerated into a lengthy discussion

about logistics shortfalls and the effort needed to accomplish

General Powell’s mandate to include a tank-killing phase in

the plan. Adams wanted to see a much expanded, detailed

version of Instant Thunder that addressed enemy capabilities

logistics considerations, and tanker support. He wondered

aloud if Horner had seen any of this. Colonel Bristow piped up

that he had faxed it to the general three days ago. Warden

stared at Bristow, who appeared delighted to have been able to

give that tidbit of information to General Adams. Walking to

the center of the room, Warden cleared his throat and

*A flying unit’s portion of the air tasking order (ATO).

82
reminded Bristow that what he faxed to Horner three days ago

was nothing more than a bare-bones draft of an early Instant

Thunder plan. The version they were working on today was

much bigger and—more importantly—had the endorsement o

both the CINC and the CJCS. 

Sun/12 Aug 90/Mount Vernon VA

Lt Col Foose Wilson had taken leave so he could spend al

day Saturday shepherding his mother and father around

Washington. Neither had been to the capital before, and they

were enjoying the sights and their son’s company. Today was

especially good. The warm Sunday sunshine was pleasant and

far less intense than what they were used to back home in

Alabama. The three of them spent the morning poking around

George Washington’s country estate at Mount Vernon, where

the crowds that day were small and unobtrusive. They toured

the house and grounds and, after a few hours, made their way

to the large wicker and hickory rockers that lined the house’s

back porch. The chairs were painted authentic colonial black

rubbed bare in spots over the years by footsore tourists like

Mrs Wilson, who sat between the men, grateful for a place to

rest. For a long while, they rocked in silence, admiring the rich

green hills and pastureland that arched its way down to the

wide river below.

Foose was contemplating a leisurely lunch when he faintly

heard his name called over the public address system: “Colone

Wilson, come to the front gate. There is a military message for

you.”33 Wilson excused himself and ambled down the winding

path that led from the house to the main entrance. Strange that

anyone in his office would need him so desperately on a Sunday

afternoon. He was a staff puke, and no one tracked staff pukes

down—not all the way to Mount Vernon on a Sunday afternoon

Maybe the war had started!

Wilson knocked on the window of the whitewashed kiosk a

the main entrance to Mount Vernon. After he identified

himself, a park ranger invited him into the cramped little

building and directed him to an open phone that rested on

what was left of the Washington Post sports pages. Wilson

83
lifted the receiver and found himself talking to Maj Gen Marvin

S. Ervin, the Air Force deputy director of operations. He told

Wilson that Gen Jimmie Adams needed to see him immediately

and that they were sending a government car out to Mount

Vernon to pick him up and take him directly to Adams’s house

on Bolling AFB.

Wilson was dismayed by the prospect of leaving his folks at

Mount Vernon and telling them they had to find their way

back to his house in the Virginia suburbs. Not only were the

roads too complicated, but his sudden departure would cause

his parents undue worry. Wilson thought fast. He would take

them home himself; that was the simplest, cleanest thing to

do. Wilson told General Ervin to send the car to his house

instead of Mount Vernon. He would meet the driver there

Reluctantly, Ervin agreed. Foose hung up the phone, thanked

the park ranger—who had been staring at him throughout his

conversation—and hurried out the door and up the path to

rejoin his mother and father.

Sun/12 Aug 90/Bolling AFB/Wash DC

It was almost 1400 when the battered, gunmetal-gray sedan

carrying Foose Wilson pulled up in front of General Adams’s

quarters. Adams lived on the back side of Bolling, not far from

the Officers’ Club, in one of the brick-and-mortar depression

era houses reserved for general officers who worked at the

Pentagon. As soon as Wilson stepped out of the car, he knew

something big was up. Adams was standing at his front door

wearing an aloha shirt and shorts, as well as a pained

expression on his face—as if he’d just heard that his best

friend had died. The general ushered Wilson inside, patting

him gently on the shoulder, saying, “Steve, I have a mission

for you.”34 Adams explained that he had spoken earlier in the

day with General Horner about the planning being done at the

Air Staff and that Horner was unhappy because it had

occurred without his knowledge or consent. Horner needed to

know exactly what was happening in Washington and how it

might affect his operation in Riyadh—and he needed to know

soon. Adams had chosen Wilson to tell him.

84
“There are going to be a lot of spears thrown,” warned Adams

“There will be a lot of people asking a lot of questions, and

[Horner] will yell a lot. He will bark a lot. He will appear not to

listen, but he will listen.”35

None of this came as a surprise to Wilson, who remembered

interviewing with Horner for a squadron commander position

in one of the general’s fighter units. He had screamed at him

just like his dad used to. Wilson knew that underneath his

gruffness, Horner had a soft heart. The trick was to play along

with him—just listen, be respectful, and keep going. It had

worked for Wilson. Horner hired him that very day. 36

Within the hour, both men were on their way to see Genera

Loh. At that meeting, Adams did most of the talking

reiterating to Loh his earlier conversation with General Horner

and his intention to send Foose Wilson over to Riyadh to help

defuse the situation. Loh listened impassively, adding nothing

Adams quickly excused himself and left with Wilson in tow.

Their next stop was the command center, where Wilson was

subjected to what seemed like endless briefings on highly

classified programs.37 Adams was making Wilson drink out o

a fire hose, and Foose really didn’t understand why! But later

that afternoon, as he sat in the Checkmate area listening to

Deptula and Warden describing Instant Thunder for the 10th

time and thinking that he couldn’t possibly get enough

information to be comfortable briefing Horner, it dawned on

him that they actually intended for him to leave that night

Adams seriously expected him to jump on a plane and head to

the desert. He hadn’t even packed, yet they were talking about

airplanes ready to move him in the next couple of hours

Adams had left the building, but Wilson found out where he

was and telephoned him.

“I can’t leave until tomorrow morning,” said Wilson matter-of

factly. “I need more briefings, and I need more time to pack and

get ready.”38

It didn’t take much coaxing for Adams to relent and allow

Wilson the additional time he needed—it simply made sense

Relieved, Wilson hung up and continued talking with Deptula

and some of the members of his own fighter shop who were

down in Checkmate helping with targeting and munitions

85
selection. He left near midnight, his head swimming with

Instant Thunder facts and figures.

Mon/13 Aug 90/Pentagon/Wash DC

By 0500 Wilson was back in the Checkmate area, where he

picked up the latest iteration of Instant Thunder and its target

list from Warden and Dave Deptula. Both men had been working

frantically on those documents. He also took all the supporting

top secret and special access required (SAR) data his briefcase

would hold. Loaded down with his travel bag and the specia

courier briefcase that attached to his wrist with a lock and key

Wilson walked out the River Entrance at 0800 and stepped into

a waiting government car that would take him to Dover

Delaware—the first leg of his long journey to Riyadh. 39

Wilson slumped down in the back seat of the cramped

government car and tried to get some rest. It was no use. No

matter how he contorted himself, he couldn’t find a comfortable

position. The briefcase tugged at his arm, and the sharp plastic

door handles on the cheap, compact car dug into his sides

making sleep impossible. Reluctantly, he sat up and watched

the scenery. Leaving Washington was very slow going. The late

summer sun beat down on the snarl of busses, trucks, and car

creeping up the Baltimore-Washington Parkway, makin

Wilson’s ride even more unpleasant. Occasionally, a motorcycle

roared past, startling Foose and his driver as the T-shirted biker

wove his machine at unbelievable speeds between the long lines

of frustrated drivers. Gradually, however, the traffic eased, and

in a few hours Wilson found himself in the open farmland that

stretches from the Chesapeake to Dover.

Mon/13 Aug 90/Dover AFB DE

The people at Dover AFB were expecting him—at least that’s

how it appeared to Wilson. As soon as he arrived, they waved

him onto a waiting C-5 Galaxy, jammed to the rafters with

Army troops and equipment. The lieutenant colonel tried to

86
climb up the steep ladder from the cargo compartment to the

troop deck, but his briefcase kept getting stuck in the narrow

ladder. He had to hold it back with his left hand and steady

himself on the ladder with his right. Finally, he made it “up

top,” looked around for a seat, and discovered they were al

occupied by wide-eyed 82d Airborne rangers loaded down with

combat gear and assault weapons. The crew chief—a grizzled

reservist—motioned for Wilson to follow him back down the

ladder. For a minute, Wilson thought he was going to throw

him off the plane; instead, the sergeant took him on a winding

journey through a maze of pallets and vehicles to the front o

the aircraft. Briefcase in hand, Wilson banged his way up

another flight of stairs that, thankfully, led to the C-5’s

cockpit. Inside, the crew chief gave Wilson a terse smile and

pointed to a vacant jump seat. Wilson had no sooner sat down

than the aircraft started to move, its engines straining under

the heavy load. Several minutes later, when the C-5 rolled to a

stop at the departure end of the runway, the two pilots turned

around and stared briefly at Wilson, as if to confirm that it

really was a lousy lieutenant colonel that they had been

ordered to wait for. Satisfied, they turned their attention back

to the mission at hand, and soon the huge bird lumbered

down the heat-soaked runway and struggled into the air. As

the biggest aircraft in the Air Force inventory slowly gained

speed and altitude, it swung north past a thousand towns

small and large, before it reluctantly turned east and headed

out to sea.

Mon/13 Aug 90/Ramstein AB, Germany

Eight hours later, the cargo jet swooped low over the

darkened countryside, flaps fully extended, wheels down, and

engines making an awful droning sound as the

Volkswagen-sized compressor blades cut their way through

the thick, Teutonic air toward an uneventful landing a

Ramstein Air Base. The C-5 did a high-speed taxi to the

deserted, far side of the base—normally reserved for handling

dangerous cargo and special missions. The crew door opened

and light from the interior of the plane streamed onto the

87
taxiway, illuminating a small contingent of heavily armed

security police. A solitary figure emerged from the plane

stepped out into the cool, night air, and hurried over to where

the police were waiting. The men saluted, and Wilson—despite

fatigue and the weight of his omnipresent briefcase—managed

to raise his right hand crisply to forehead. The group turned

and watched as the aircraft slowly pivoted and headed back

toward the passenger terminal, a half mile distant.

The three men who had joined Wilson on the darkened

taxiway said little but kept stealing furtive glances at the

buff-colored briefcase still firmly attached to his wrist. Two o

the policemen were barely out of their teens—one still wore a

retainer. The third, eight stripes showing on his camouflaged

sleeve, was by far the senior member of the group. He

motioned for Wilson to get into the back of the police car with

him, while the other two men clambered into the front, their

automatic weapons at the ready.

They drove only a short distance before Wilson could see the

distinctive outline of a green and gray camouflaged C-5

engines running. Noticing that the tail number on this

transport was different than the one he had come over on

Wilson thought it must be his new ride. Sure enough, the

squad car stopped just beyond the giant aircraft’s wingtip, and

all four men got out. As they did, the lower hatch swung open

and the crew chief appeared, motioning Wilson to come

aboard. The young policeman with the retainer accompanied

Wilson to the plane, carrying his hang-up bag and suitcase

The other two men kept watch a discreet distance away, their

faces ghostly pale in the blue light of the squad car. As soon as

the young airman passed Wilson’s bag to him, the crew hatch

began to close, and Wilson barely had enough time to grunt

out thanks to the disappearing image of the security cop’s

polished boots. Minutes later, the C-5 roared down the runway

and lifted off into the clear night sky.

Tue/14 Aug 90/Dhahran, Saudi Arabia

Stepping off the airlifter, Wilson saw nothing but planes

people, and shimmering waves of heat. Insufferable heat, the

88
kind that settles on your chest and neck, threatening to push

you feet first through the tarmac and into the powder-fine sand

that stretched to the horizon. Sand was everywhere, working its

way into your clothing, up your nose, and in your eyes. You

breathed it, ate it, and drank it. The C-5 pilot who escorted

Wilson over to the C-21A Learjet detachment told him that if you

stayed in Saudi long enough, you began to think you were made

of it. As they walked toward a small hangar, Wilson was amazed

by the sheer numbers of soldiers, all from the 82d Airborne

camped along the taxiways and wedged into any area that could

provide shelter from the broiling midday heat.40 The whole plac

seemed like something out of a movie set.

Wilson was starving. He hadn’t eaten anything since leaving

Dover almost 18 hours ago. The C-21A crew—huddled in a

corner of a huge hangar crawling with troops and

cargo—proved friendly enough, offering to take him to dinner

before they carried him on the last leg of his journey to Riyadh

Sitting in a makeshift diner, gulping down a warm Coke and a

greasy burger, Wilson had to admit that General Ervin, the Air

Force Command Center guru, really knew his stuff. He had

traveled almost 14,000 miles on the travel plan coordinated by

Ervin through the airlift control element (ACE) at the Pentagon

without so much as a set of orders! 41 Waiting airplanes and

welcoming aircrews were all part of Ervin’s well-established

connections with Military Airlift Command (MAC).* Later tha

afternoon, as he made his way back out to the flight line for

the ride to Riyadh, Wilson wasn’t sure whether his sudden

nausea stemmed from the hamburger or the prospect o

briefing General Horner. Time would tell.

Tue/14 Aug 90/Riyadh, Saudi Arabia

By the time Wilson’s plane landed at Riyadh, it was already

dark. He thanked the crew for their hospitality and hitched a

ride to Royal Saudi Air Force (RSAF) headquarters. Once

inside the building, Foose made his way to the office o

*Replaced by Air Mobility Command (AMC) in 1992.

89
Maj Gen Tom Olsen, deputy commander of CENTAF, who was

handling most of the problems while Horner served as the

on-scene CENTCOM commander.* Feeling a bit awkward

Wilson explained the reason for his visit. He knew that even

though Olsen and the others welcomed him to the theater as

an old fighter buddy, they harbored serious resentment abou

what the rumor mill told them—that he was meddling in the

theater commander’s business by bringing a campaign plan

built by the Air Staff.42 Wilson slid the key into the bracele

that held the briefcase to his arm and opened the lock. The

briefcase fell away with a thud and dropped beside his feet. As

he reached down to open it for the first time since leaving the

Pentagon, he noticed that his flight boots were covered with a

light dusting of sand. Wilson pulled out a sealed manila

envelope marked “TOP SECRET LIMDIS [limited distribution]

and placed it on the table. He carefully opened it and pulled

out the Instant Thunder plan and its targeting list.

Olsen was quite congenial as Colonel Wilson walked him

through the briefing. The general interrupted him at one point

to summon his director of operations, Col Jim Crigger, a

veteran fighter pilot who, before the war was over, would

manage to fly an impressive number of combat sorties in

F-15C/D Eagle air superiority fighters. For now, though

Crigger was consumed with the beddown of CENTAF assets

and the frantic efforts of his staff to put together a defensive

plan just in case Saddam’s forces rolled south into Saud

Arabia.43 Like his boss, Crigger had very few questions about

Instant Thunder. This surprised Wilson because he had

expected them both to pepper him with questions and

comments on everything from tactics to targets, dissecting

each aiming point and arguing over the best aircraft for the

job. Yet, neither man said much of anything. 44 They wer

polite and pleasant enough, but Olsen and his deputy

conveyed the unmistakable impression that they weren’t very

interested in what Wilson and the Air Staff had to offer. 

After Wilson put the top secret slides back in the briefcase

Crigger called in his weapons officer, Lt Col Sam Baptiste

Wilson and Baptiste were old friends whose paths had crossed

*General Schwarzkopf was still in Florida at this time.

90
many times in their various assignments as Eagle jet drivers

Olsen told Baptiste to accompany Wilson over to Headquarters

CENTCOM and view the briefing there with General Horner.

“You take my car and driver,” said Olsen. “Go see Horner.” 45

Headquarters CENTCOM was a four-mile drive from the

RSAF compound. The streets were alive with military trucks

and busses and an odd assortment of American and German

cars driven by stern-looking Arab men. After they arrived a

the headquarters, Wilson and Baptiste were kept waiting

almost an hour. It was all part of the game. 46 Actually, Foos

was surprised and grateful that they were ushered into the

commander’s office so quickly. He had expected Horner to

make them wait all night. Soon, he would wish they had.

Wilson and Baptiste had barely stepped through the doorway

and into the huge, opulently furnished room that served as

Horner’s temporary office, when Wilson’s old boss, fury in his

eyes, began flaying him alive. Before Wilson could say a word

Horner told him that he understood why he was there and, more

importantly, what he had.47 The general strode angrily across the

room and looked down at Wilson, his eyes bulging and his lips

pulled back in a sneer. Grabbing Foose’s tie, he told him in no

uncertain terms that it wasn’t Wilson’s job—or anybody else’s on

the Air Staff—to plan an air campaign.48 For a split second, i

looked like Horner was going to hit him. The colonel winced as the

general tightened his grip on the tie and pulled him closer. Instead

of smashing the wiry, handsome colonel with his fist, Horner

hissed out a warning that it wasn’t Wilson’s job to push this plan

down CENTAF’s throat.49

After the harangue was over and Horner had made his

objections, he let Wilson open his briefcase and take out the

envelope containing the Instant Thunder material. No soone

had Wilson pulled out the first slide than Horner picked it up

and tossed it across the room. It hit the wall with a thunk and

fluttered soundlessly down onto a brightly colored Persian rug

In a voice louder than normal but still controlled, Horner told

Wilson that he hated the term Instant Thunder, so Wilson

shouldn’t have used it. The general then fired off a series o

questions: How did he arrive at that term? Who gave the plan

that name? Was Warden in on the planning? Why did Wilson

call it Instant Thunder?50

91
The colonel tried his best to answer, but Horner was not in a

listening mode—he was all transmit. Finally, Wilson gathered

up the slides that Horner had thrown around the room and

told the general that he could do this over and over, but the

bottom line was that Gen H. Norman Schwarzkopf, Horner’s

boss, had requested this plan and that Wilson’s boss, Gen

John M. Loh, had told him to deliver it, and that was what he

was going to do!51

Wilson set up the slides and went through each one, just as

he had rehearsed with Deptula and Warden. This time, Horner

sat quietly, arms folded, muttering under his breath only

when something struck him as especially stupid. “I’m no

worried about strategic targets,” he told Wilson. To the

general, strategic targeting meant nuclear targeting, and Gen

Chuck Horner was not going nuclear. His concern was the

Iraqi army assembled along the Kuwaiti-Saudi border. Horner

was convinced that Saddam intended to send it into Saud

Arabia to take control of the ports and oil. 52

After the briefing, Horner seemed calmer and more himself

He admitted being frustrated over his boss’s request to the Air

Staff, adding that Schwarzkopf simply didn’t know what he

was asking for and that it wasn’t his job to ask outsiders for

an air campaign in the first place! As far as Horner was

concerned, he was the only one Schwarzkopf should have

tasked with building an air campaign! After all, he was the

CENTAF commander!53

As Wilson gathered up his things and prepared to go, Horner

asked him when he was headed back to the States. “Tomorrow,

Wilson told him. Horner smiled slyly and, as he walked back to

his desk, casually commented that Wilson had better think

again—he was going to be there a while. Wilson stopped packing

and looked up at the general. “I don’t work for you.”

“Yes,” said Horner, gravel in his voice, “General Loh says

you work for me, and you are here to help.” 54

Horner wanted Wilson to stay long enough to get the

intelligence information lines flowing in CENTAF. The

targeting photos and data Wilson brought with him to

illustrate the briefing were better than anything Horner had

seen in-theater—just what the general wanted. He told Wilson

to get in touch with his CIA and DIA contacts back in

92
Washington and have them open up the intelligence channels

Patting Foose on the back, the general told him that he would

have a work area right next door to his in the RSAF

headquarters. Currently, three one-stars occupied it, bu

Horner was confident they wouldn’t mind sharing a little o

their space with Wilson. Dumbfounded, Wilson stumbled ou

the door and followed Baptiste down the stairs and out into

the night. His whole body felt numb, and he was too tired to

carry on much of a conversation with his friend. As Baptiste

dumped him into a hotel room, Wilson noted that his old

look’em-in-the-eye fighter buddy hadn’t said much during the

Horner meeting—nothing much at all.55 As Wilson dozed off

half a world away, the president of the United States was

getting his first look at the Instant Thunder plan. He would

like it a lot more than General Horner did.

Notes

1. Lt Gen Robert M. Alexander, Washington, D.C., transcript of interview

with Lt Col Suzanne B. Gehri, Lt Col Edward C. Mann, and author, 30 May

1991, 33, Desert Story Collection, US Air Force Historical Research Agency

Maxwell AFB, Ala.

2. Ibid., 19, 33–34.

3. Ibid., 34.

4. Col John A. Warden III, Washington, D.C., transcript of interview with Lt Co

Suzanne B. Gehri, Lt Col Edward C. Mann, and author, 30 May 1991, 99, Deser

Story Collection, US Air Force Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala.

5. Alexander, 30 May 1991, 36.

6. Gen John M. Loh, Langley AFB, Va., transcript of interview with

Lt Col Suzanne B. Gehri and author, 26 September 1991, 20, Desert Story

Collection, US Air Force Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala.

7. Ibid.

8. Alexander, 30 May 1991, 36.

9. Notes, Lt Col Ben Harvey, 23, Desert Story Collection, US Air Force

Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala. (Secret) Information

extracted here and in subsequent references is unclassified. Hereinafte

referred to as Harvey.

10. Alexander, 30 May 1991, 36, 40.

11. Ibid., 37.

12. Ibid.

13. Ibid., 38.

14. Ibid., 32; and Harvey, 24.

15. Harvey, 25.

16. Col Richard D. Bristow, Langley AFB, Va., transcript of interview with L

Col Edward C. Mann and author, 9 November 1992, 21–22, Desert Stor

Collection, US Air Force Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala.

93
17. Ibid.

18. Ibid., 22–23.

19. Col James Blackburn, Bolling AFB, Washington, D.C., transcript o

interview with Lt Col Suzanne B. Gehri, Col Edward C. Mann, and author

21 April 1993, 21–26, Desert Story Collection, US Air Force Historica

Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala.

20. Bristow, 9 November 1992, 25.

21. Gen Jimmie V. Adams, Eglin AFB, Fla., transcript of interview with

Lt Col Suzanne B. Gehri and author, 3 February 1992, 1–3, Desert Story

Collection, US Air Force Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala.

22. Harvey, 29.

23. Ibid.

24. Loh, 26 September 1991, 22.

25. Ibid., 24.

26. Warden, 30 May 1991, 111.

27. Ibid.

28. Ibid.

29. Harvey, 31.

30. Ibid., 31–32.

31. Ibid.

32. Ibid., 32.

33. Col Steve Wilson, Washington, D.C., transcript of interview with

Lt Col Suzanne B. Gehri, Lt Col Edward C. Mann, and author, 11 December

1991, 6, Desert Story Collection, US Air Force Historical Research Agency

Maxwell AFB, Ala.

34. Ibid., 6–7.

35. Ibid., 11.

36. Ibid.

37. Ibid.

38. Ibid.

39. Ibid., 12.

40. Ibid., 13.

41. Ibid.

42. Ibid., 14–15.

43. Col James Crigger, Shaw AFB, S.C., transcript of interview with

Lt Col Suzanne B. Gehri and author, 3 December 1991, 6, Desert Story

Collection, US Air Force Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala.

44. Wilson, 11 December 1991, 15.

45. Ibid.

46. Ibid.

47. Ibid.

48. Ibid.

49. Ibid.

50. Ibid., 16.

51. Ibid., 16–17.

52. Ibid., 17, 20.

53. Ibid., 18.

54. Ibid.

55. Ibid., 16.

94
Chapter 6

0955/Wed/15 Aug 90/Wash DC

The presidential motorcade pulled up smartly to the River

Entrance of the Pentagon. Standing at the bottom of the wide

gray steps that led up to the entrance were Dick Cheney and

Colin Powell. Behind them, workers busily put the fina

touches on the raised platform from which President Bush

would address the Pentagon faithful at lunchtime. A VIP

seating area had already been fenced off in the parking area to

hold the 160 generals and civilian dignitaries who had been

invited to hear the speech.1 The rest of the almost 30,000

Pentagon workers would have to make do, either standing or

sitting on the open lawn that stretched for more than 100

yards toward the Potomac River.

After President Bush climbed out of the limousine, Cheney

and Powell immediately escorted him up the stairs and into

the building. Once inside, the men made their way directly to

the briefing area in the tank. Other members of the JCS were

already in place, waiting for the presidential party. Powell go

right to the point. Using slides given to him by General Loh

and General Meier,* the chairman briefed the president on

Instant Thunder. During the hour-long meeting, the presiden

asked questions about both the plan and the status of the

massive, ongoing military deployment to the Gulf. By the time

Bush emerged from the Pentagon to deliver his address at the

River Entrance, he was excited—almost vibrant.

“Saddam Hussein would have us believe that his un

provoked invasion of a friendly Arab nation is a struggle

between Arabs and Americans,” said Bush, looking sternly a

the assembled crowd. He paused, gathered himself up, and

stabbed at the air with an outstretched finger. “This is clearly

false. It is Saddam who lied to his Arab neighbors. It is

Saddam who invaded an Arab state. It is Saddam who now

*At 1130 on 14 August, General Meier took five slides from the Instant Thunde

briefing to General Powell. Later the same day, General Adams said those same slide

were going to the president. Harvey, 54, 57 (see note 14).

95
threatens the Arab nation. We, by contrast, seek to assist our

Arab friends in their hour of need.” 2 The loudspeakers carried

Bush’s words across the lawn and down to the river, where

they faded away. This was the first time that the president

denounced the Iraqi invasion in such harsh, personal terms. It

wouldn’t be the last.

0530/Fri/17 Aug 90/Andrews AFB MD

Col Dick Bristow pressed his nose to the windshield of the

rental car in a vain attempt to see the road ahead. An

impenetrable, gray fog blanketed the city and its outlying

districts. A perilously overloaded and abused truck, its single

working headlight dancing crazily up and down, roared out o

the gloom and headed for downtown Washington. Going the

other way were empty taxis with tired-looking drivers, their

hands draped loosely over the wheel, cigarettes dangling from

their mouths. The colonel was grateful he wasn’t driving. Tha

task fell to one of the SAC people who had come to help with the

planning. The younger officer, looking even more nervous than

Bristow, picked his way through the unfamiliar, monochrome

landscape toward their destination, Andrews AFB. 

Bristow’s head ached from lack of sleep and an

overwhelming sense of frustration and loss. The other two

colonels from TAC had gone home earlier in the week on

orders from General Ryan. Bristow suspected that his

companions were glad to return to Langley—especially Doug

Hawkins, who chafed at the idea of people in Washington

putting together an air campaign. It galled him that Warden

and the others could get away with building a plan like Instant

Thunder behind General Horner’s back. The paper-thin excuse

that they were acting under the authority and direction of the

theater CINC was nonsense. It was wrong—flat-out wrong—to

do war planning in Washington, and Hawkins knew it. As far

as he was concerned, everyone else should have known it too.

If Bristow hadn’t done some quick thinking, he would have

returned to Langley with Hawkins and Bigelow. Instead, he

persuaded both Ryan and General Griffith that he should

accompany the Checkmate group to the meeting with

96
Schwarzkopf. In order to cut the deal, though, he had to

promise to bring back a firsthand account of Schwarzkopf’s

reaction to the plan, as well as copies of all the material used

to brief the CINC. Even so, Bristow’s handlers at TAC were

none too pleased that he was going. 3

Bristow closed his eyes and replayed the week’s events for

the hundredth time. He remembered the shaky start with

Colonel Warden on Saturday, 11 August, and the late-nigh

phone call with General Griffith when he asked that some TAC

experts be sent to Checkmate to work on weaponeering and

other vital planning details. When General Ryan called him

early the next morning to tell him that he and Griffith had

agreed to that request, Bristow became ecstatic! 

Emboldened by Ryan’s response, he asked the general if he

would mind sending a couple of people from the tactical air

control center (TACC) at Ninth Air Force to work on the plan as

well. After all, these folks would have to execute the plan, so

why not get them involved in putting it together?* Ryan agreed

and later arranged to fly two staff officers to Andrews, where

Bristow would pick them up the following morning. Later

Bristow casually mentioned to Warden that a couple of guys

from Shaw would be up to help work on the plan for a few

days before they left for the theater. Warden, knee-deep in

paper and ideas, simply nodded. They were in. 4

The weapons experts showed up on Monday, 13 August

along with the two men from Ninth Air Force. Everyone went

right to work, the weapons folks helping various teams

determine run-in lines, aiming points, and appropriate

munition selections. Bristow shepherded the two Ninth Ai

Force officers around the various planning cells, explaining as

he went exactly what they were trying to accomplish. The leve

of activity was unbelievable! Warden and some of his key

assistants were briefing flag officers from every service on the

planning effort. By midafternoon, the Navy had a gaggle o

people in the little briefing room, conferring with Dave Deptula

and others on how best to use the Tomahawk land attack

missile (TLAM) in the Instant Thunder plan. 5

*The TACC at Shaw AFB was preparing to deploy to Saudi Arabia in support o

Operation Desert Shield.

97
That wasn’t all. Other services quickly brought in their

experts with the latest information on super-secret and

not-so-secret weapons and alternatives for their employment

These experts worked with everyone, including the specia

operations people. The place was also crawling with energetic

excited SAC people, who could be found throughout the

Checkmate area, advising on bomb loads, logistics, and

weaponeering. What amazed Bristow at the time was that the

entire plan to win the war—not just the air war but the

war—was taking shape in the basement of the Pentagon right

before his eyes!6 Planners were systematically filling two

four-inch-thick binders—the same ones that Warden would

take to Schwarzkopf later in the week—with detailed informa

tion on how to fight the war. They had everything from an

electronic warfare plan to mean impact points and run-in lines

for 84 selected targets. They even had a sample ATO in the

works!

Bristow was so excited that he called General Griffith that

night. “Sir, you have got to come up to Washington and see

this because you just won’t believe what is going on! ”

7 Griffith

obliged, and on Tuesday morning, 14 August, he flew in by

helicopter to the Pentagon. It was the worst thing that could

have happened.

Accompanied by Bristow, General Griffith left the helipad

and went directly to General Alexander’s office, where

Alexander greeted him and thanked him for the good services

of Bigelow, Hawkins, and Bristow. Secretly, Alexander though

the three men were the biggest nuisance he ever saw. All they

wanted to do was spy on the rest of the people and send

negative reports back to TAC.8

The plans general began by going over the Instant Thunder

briefing with Griffith, who was in no mood for a briefing from

Alexander or anyone else, for that matter. Besides, he’d

already seen the briefing since Hawkins and Bristow had sent

a copy to TAC soon after they got to Washington. Unaware o

Griffith’s frustration, Alexander calmly turned to the second

slide.

“Time right now is in [Hussein’s] favor,” 9 said Alexande

thoughtfully, as he peered at the slide through his reading

glasses, which were perilously close to falling off his nose

98
Griffith exploded, his face angry and red. He slammed down

his fist and pushed his chair away from the conference table

so startling Alexander that he blinked several times in

disbelief.

“What do you mean ‘time is in [ Hussein’s] favor’?”10 sho

back Griffith through clenched teeth. “We need the time! W

need the time to get our people over and everything else!” 11

The two men stared at each other for a while, saying

nothing. Finally, Alexander flipped a cover sheet over the

classified slides and pushed them aside. The briefing was over

For the next few minutes, they talked politely about what and

whom Griffith would see during his short stay at the Pentagon

Their business concluded, Alexander walked Griffith to the

outer office, shook hands, and went back inside. Everything

went downhill from there.

Bristow escorted General Griffith to the Checkmate area

where he talked with quite a few people, including most of the

TAC guys who had flown in earlier. They covered lots o

territory that day and ended up in a meeting with Genera

Meier in the JCS area, where Griffith, much to his dislike, had

to sit through Meier’s rendition of the Instant Thunder

briefing. This time, Griffith maintained his composure and

endured Meier’s long-winded explanation of what he wanted to

do with the plan. When Meier finished, Griffith excused

himself and walked down the second-floor A Ring with Bristow

to his waiting chopper. On the way, he told the colonel that he

wanted all the TAC guys to back out of whatever they were

doing and come home as soon as possible. 12 That was that.

Later on in the week, before Dick Bigelow returned to

Langley, leaving only Bristow as guardian of TAC’s interests

Bristow called generals Ryan and Griffith, asking fo

additional TAC people to support the Instant Thunder effort

He argued that Warden and the other planners were actually

beginning to make good use of TAC’s inputs. If TAC

stayed—or, hopefully, increased the number of people on the

project—its influence on Instant Thunder could grow

substantially. To Bristow’s chagrin, the generals denied his

request.13 TAC was leaving the fight.

In the time he had left, Bristow did what he could to help

the two Ninth Air Force men. The three of them copied

99
everything they could get their hands on that had anything to

do with the Instant Thunder plan. When one of the two Ninth

Air Force officers left for Saudi Arabia, he took along the entire

plan and most of the supporting documents. His partner, who

had left for the theater a few days earlier, also had a suitcase

jammed full of Instant Thunder documents, thanks to

Bristow’s efforts.

The real icing on the cake came in the form of a last-minute

message that General Russ wanted Bristow to deliver

personally to Meier, the JCS general in charge of the Instant

Thunder mess. There was some hope at Langley that this TAC

silver bullet, fashioned by Russ himself, might finally kill the

beast. Now all Bristow had to do was deliver it. 14

A bright light suddenly flashed in the colonel’s eyes. He

shook himself awake, looked around, and saw that they were

at the main entrance to Andrews. A security policeman

flashlight in hand, asked for identification. While Bristow dug

through his wallet, the young cop kept a careful watch on both

men. Security had been tightened ever since the invasion o

Kuwait. People were nervous. Rumors about terrorists were

already circulating in the Washington area. Bristow handed

the airman his green ID card and waited while the policeman

compared the picture to Bristow’s sleepy face. Bristow had to

admit that the photo didn’t look much like the tired bird

colonel who sat in the passenger seat of this grungy rental car

But it must have been close enough to satisfy the young cop

because he returned their cards, stepped back, saluted, and

waved them through. Only after the car cleared the guard

shack did Bristow see the other security guard, automatic weapon

at the ready, standing out of sight near the line of trees.

When the car finally pulled up in front of the passenger service

terminal, Bristow was surprised to see so many familiar faces

From the looks of it, Warden must have invited half the guys

who were working in Checkmate! Bristow knew that wouldn’t go

over well with General Meier, who had admonished Warden jus

the night before to keep the number of people to a minimum. 1

Typically, Warden did just the opposite!

At 0655 the half-full Boeing 727 lifted off and headed south

for MacDill AFB. Warden and Meier sat up front in large

first-class seats and quietly went over the briefing, with

100
Warden pointing out last-minute changes on the slides. Little

evidence remained of the acrimonious debate that, at times

during the last several days, had periodically flared into

shouting matches between the two men and threatened to

disrupt the whole effort. Not at all certain that the briefing was

of sufficient detail and breadth to satisfy Schwarzkopf, Meier

had kept asking that more particulars be added in an attempt

to “peel the onion.” Warden resisted the changes, arguing tha

the briefing was exactly what the CINC had called for. The

bickering and jabs became so ludicrous that by late evening

on 16 August, it wasn’t at all clear who would brief Genera

Schwarzkopf the next morning or what exactly they would tel

him. Meier even proposed that he and Warden draw straws to

determine who would brief the CINC. When that proposa

elicited blank, disbelieving stares from Warden and the others

Meier fired back that he would decide on the plane how they

would handle it; at the very least, he would make the

introductory remarks.16

All of this discord took a heavy toll on John Warden

Because work on the Instant Thunder plan consumed his

every hour, he had not slept in two days. In fact, the colone

hadn’t left the Pentagon until 0500 that morning, when he

went home to shower, shave, and put on a fresh uniform

before rushing off to catch the plane that would take him to

MacDill.17 Warden was tired—very tired.

Forty-five minutes into the flight, Warden finished his

run-through of the briefing slides with General Meier. It had

gone well enough, considering. Meier seemed resigned to

letting Warden give the overall briefing and having Col Jim

Blackburn, the Air Force Intelligence Agency’s director o

targets, handle the intel portion, as Warden had originally

suggested. Meier mollified himself by declaring that he would

do the introductions and make comments “worthy of a

two-star.”18

As Warden turned in his seat and bent down to pick up his

briefcase, he found himself staring at a pair of feet and ankles

Raising his head, Warden saw that they belonged to Col Dick

Bristow. He had no idea how long Bristow had been standing

there. The TAC colonel was nervous. His blue collar was

rumpled, and a thin line of perspiration had begun to show

101
around his left armpit. His eyes darted back and forth between

Warden and General Meier, as if he were having a hard time

deciding which man to speak to first. He chose Warden. Bristow

stammered out that he needed to talk with General Meier in

private and would appreciate it if Warden would leave. Unsure

about what Bristow was up to but too tired to care, Warden

slowly stood up and then moved to the back of the plane, looking

for a place to catch a little sleep before they landed.

Bristow watched Warden walk away and then turned and

slid into the colonel’s vacant seat. He got right to the point. “I

have been asked to give you a message from General Russ.”

Bristow then told Meier of Russ’s grave concerns about the

fact that Instant Thunder went from peace to all-out war with

no intervening steps. In Russ’s view, this massive, preemptiv

attack to win a war against Iraq was very dangerous and could

set off a chain reaction that could quickly engulf the world in

serious regional conflicts or perhaps even global war. It was

dangerous, that’s all, and he wanted to make sure that the

JCS, the president, and Colin Powell knew it. 19 Meier said

nothing. He pursed his lips, frowned, and then bent down to

pick up a pen that had fallen to the floor. Finally, he turned to

Bristow and told the colonel that he understood Russ’s

concerns. However, General Powell and the president wanted a

plan that would win the war, and they felt that Instant

Thunder was the best option to guarantee success. Neither

Powell nor the president believed that taking small steps or

merely demonstrating our resolve was the way to go. They

wanted to win—and win big.20

Meier let the weight of his words sink in before turning his

gaze back to the window and the clouds below. Bristow—who

up to this time had been sitting on the edge of his seat

square-jawed and determined—suddenly went slack. He folded

his hands, leaned forward, and rested his elbows on his

outstretched knees. Bowing his head, he stared at the cabin

floor, not moving a muscle. After a moment, Bristow excused

himself and made his way back to the rear of the plane. He

spotted Warden curled up in a fetal position, fast asleep on an

otherwise empty row of seats along the far right side. Bristow

settled back into his own narrow chair, painfully aware that

TAC’s silver bullet was a dud.

102
0900/Fri/17 Aug 90/MacDill AFB FL

After getting off the plane, Colonel Warden, General Meier

and the 32 other members of the group took a quick bus ride

to General Schwarzkopf’s headquarters. It soon became

obvious that this briefing would not be a repeat of the low-key

intimate presentation that Warden had made to the CINC the

week before in General Moore’s office. Warden and his people

had top billing now, and it looked like most of the folks at

Headquarters CENTCOM had tickets to see the show. In fact

by the time Warden and Meier walked into the CINC’s

conference room, it was standing room only. 21 Due to wha

CENTCOM officials said was a problem with transferring

security clearances, however, many people who had flown

down with Warden were denied entry to the briefing, including

a very disappointed Colonel Bristow.*

General Meier made a few opening remarks and turned the

briefing over to Colonel Warden, who—despite the dark circles

under his eyes—seemed energized and full of enthusiasm. The

first portion of the briefing was conceptual in nature and

similar to what Warden had briefed the CINC on the week

before. When the colonel mentioned keeping casualties to a

minimum as one of the campaign’s primary objectives

Schwarzkopf interrupted him, a frown beginning to form on

his face. “We must make folks understand that there will be

civilian casualties.”22

“Yes,” said Warden. Nodding confidently, he explained that a

portion of the plan included intensive efforts to show the Iraqis

and the world that the responsibility for civilian casualties

rested squarely on Saddam Hussein’s shoulders and that the

coalition would have no choice in the matter. 23 Mollified

Schwarzkopf let the briefing continue. Warden showed the

CINC the essential target sets and explained, in general terms

Instant Thunder’s emphasis on national paralysis and shock.

Warden turned the Vu-Graph machine off, paused for a

moment, and then introduced Jim Blackburn as the

intelligence officer charged with giving the CINC a detailed look

*Bristow spent most of the briefing in the CENTCOM snack bar and was finally admitte

to the briefing area just as Schwarzkopf was leaving. Bristow, 61–62 (see note 3).

103
at target analysis for Instant Thunder. Blackburn brought ou

a large map of Iraq that showed target distribution for the air

campaign. In quick succession, he highlighted the targe

complexes around Baghdad and the kinds of weapons they

intended to put against them. Included in the target grouping

were Baghdad air defenses, command centers, and the

presidential palace. Schwarzkopf wanted to know the location

of the palace relative to Baghdad.

“Fifteen miles west of Baghdad,” said Blackburn, his hand

shaking nervously as he pointed to a spot on the large, gray map

Questions from Schwarzkopf weren’t making his time in the

spotlight any easier. He glanced up at the CINC and pressed on.

Blackburn showed a photo of the Ajaji thermal power plant

and explained how strikes from B-52s and TLAMs would take

out the switching grid, eliminating 13 percent of Iraq’s entire

electrical power production and a whopping 60 percent o

Baghdad’s electrical generation capability. Schwarzkop

seemed pleased with that. Next, Blackburn talked abou

shutting down the cracking towers at the Al Basrah and Az

Yubayr petroleum refineries. By doing so, the intelligence

colonel reminded General Schwarzkopf, the air campaign

would reduce or stop the flow of oil internally in Iraq yet allow

quick recovery of the industry at the war’s end, thereby

causing little or no harm to Iraq’s export capability. Blackburn

covered the remainder of the 84 targets in quick succession

with few interruptions from the CINC. Schwarzkopf did

express concern with imagery support, but the colonel told

him that the Navy and other folks were working the issue

Relieved to have gotten through his portion of the briefing

unscathed, Blackburn turned it back over to John Warden

and sat down.24

Warden, still upbeat and confident, began talking about the

execution plan and the weapons systems that would make it

happen. When the slide popped up showing the 32 fighter and

attack squadrons needed for Instant Thunder execution, the

CINC got excited. He pressed Warden about when he thought

these forces could be in place and usable. People shifted in

their seats, leaned forward, and watched for any sign that the

CINC was about to lose his temper. This could get ugly, just as

it had on other occasions with different briefers. Most of the

104
staffers in the room were glad that they weren’t in Warden’s

shoes—at least not now.

“We show this by the end of September,” said Warden

pointing to the 32 fighter and attack squadrons on the chart

Before anyone could object, he added, “with no

prioritization.”25 The CINC nodded and looked at his logistics

and operations generals, neither of whom protested. The

tension in the room visibly lessened.

When Warden got to the part of the briefing on air superiority

he said apologetically, “Maybe this is more detail than you want.

But Schwarzkopf shook his head; he wanted to hear all about it

Warden explained that he really had two concepts of operation in

mind here. The first option was to maintain combat air patrols

(CAP) with F-15 air superiority fighters south of Baghdad

moving north only if the Iraqis took to the air. The second was to

go on a prestrike offensive fighter sweep, destroying Iraqi aircraf

on the ground and in the air. In Warden’s opinion, this approach

would drive Saddam’s air forces to autonomous operations by

the first morning of the war.26

By now it was obvious to almost everyone in the room that the

CINC was beginning to like what he was hearing. Warden

continued, covering suppression of enemy air defenses and

psychological operations. Gathering momentum, he then talked

about exactly what the Instant Thunder plan would produce. In

Warden’s view, the executed plan would destroy Saddam

Hussein’s power base and leave his offensive military capability

degraded and difficult to rebuild. It would also severely disrup

Iraq’s economy. Unlike the postwar military, however, Iraq’s

economy could be quickly restored. Warden referred to this

entire effort as a kind of modern-day Schlieffen Plan. *

*A war plan conceived in 1906 by Count Alfred von Schlieffen, the German chief o

staff, to destroy France before the Russians had time to complete their mobilization. I

order to avoid a war on two fronts, Schlieffen wanted to invade France through Bel 

gium with a massive, right-flanking movement. He intended to crush the French force

against their own defenses in an encirclement as effective as the one Hannibal use

against the Romans at Cannae, Italy. The German forces would then quickly turn an

defeat the Russians. Unfortunately for the Germans, Schlieffen died in 1914, and th

execution of the plan fell to Helmuth von Moltke (the younger), who diluted the righ

flank to support forces engaged against the Russians. Critically weakened, the Germa

offensive stalled and then collapsed. No doubt, General Schwarzkopf was unhapp

about Warden’s comparing Instant Thunder to a plan that failed.

105
“Don’t call it the Schlieffen Plan!” said Schwarzkopf

gesturing toward the Instant Thunder slides.

“But it is the Schlieffen Plan,” countered Warden, “rotated

into the third dimension!”27 Since Schwarzkopf did not pursue

the argument, the discussion returned to the question o

exactly when the forces could be in-theater and available for

tasking.

“If we’re talking about the end of September, I’m no

worried,” said Schwarzkopf.

General Meier, who had said nothing since introducing the

briefing, piped in, “[Air Force Chief of Staff] Dugan thinks it’s

executable mid-September and risk-acceptable to do it even

earlier.”28

Schwarzkopf nodded. “We can’t flow air and land

simultaneously.”

“We’re not recommending how you make your [flow

choices,” said Meier, casting a knowing glance at Warden. The

two men had been at odds over making flow recommendations

to the CINC ever since Meier got involved in the planning

process. Warden wanted to change the flow to get more of the

right kinds of aircraft needed to execute Instant Thunder as

soon as possible, but Meier was dead-set against even trying

to deal with the issue.29

Burt Moore, Schwarzkopf’s operations general, gestured

toward the slides. “These are only forces assigned to you

Turkey forces [sic] are not considered, [and] a fourth carrier’s

not included.”30

Not wanting to be left out, Warden interjected that during

the meeting of 11 August, General Powell indicated tha

getting permission to use Turkey as a base of operations would

be politically difficult.31 Schwarzkopf cut him off with a wave

of the hand, pointed a meaty index finger at him, and said, “I

told you to look at a plan not able to launch from Saud

Arabia.”32 The room suddenly went quiet. Now it was

Warden’s turn to sweat. During the first briefing, the CINC

had told him to consider an option that didn’t include basing

in Saudi Arabia. But with only seven days to prepare a

comprehensive, executable plan, he simply hadn’t had time to

think about it, let alone produce something! Besides, in

Warden’s view, it didn’t make any sense! Why plan to commit

106
forces to restore order and economic stability to a region if the

major friendly force in that region was unwilling to let you in?

As all of these thoughts converged in Warden’s mind, a cold

sickly sensation worked its way from his stomach to his spine

He started to speak but realized the general was still talking

“. . . but the attitude of Arabs today is, Hussein must be rolled

back to destroy Iraq as a military power. If we came in and

said we could do it in six days, they’d probably wail but would

say, ‘Don’t tell us anything else’.” The CINC stood up, tugged

at his pants, and broke into a wide smile. “Two-minute break,

he barked, heading for the door and a nearby rest room

adding, “You’ve got me so excited with this!” 33 Warden could

hardly believe his ears! A second ago, he thought Schwarzkop

was going to berate him for failing to address the “no-Saud

option.” Like Warden, the CINC had evidently concluded tha

such an option was unnecessary. The queasy feeling lef

Warden’s stomach as quickly as it had appeared.

When Schwarzkopf returned, the large crowd of people who

had been milling around, excitedly discussing what they had

just seen and heard, fell silent and quickly returned to their

seats. Projecting a slide that showed areas of concern, Warden

talked about munitions distribution, tanker availability, and

the need for a very simple, straightforward airspace contro

plan.* He also pointed out that long-range, surface-to-surface

missiles such as Scuds were going to be an extremely difficult

targeting problem. “I won’t go into detail,” said Warden almos

apologetically, as he reached for the pointer and walked to the

map, “[but you] don’t want them to hit Tel Aviv [and, to a

lesser extent, Riyadh.”

Schwarzkopf, feigning surprise, retorted, “I’ll be in Riyadh

Change the priorities!” The entire room broke into uproarious

laughter, except for Warden, who, after a bewildered smile

flitted across his lips, continued speaking.

“Extraordinarily difficult problem,” he muttered, “AC-130 is

a possibility.” Because the laughter prompted by the CINC’s

remark had not yet faded away, most of the people in the room

*Airspace control was particularly nettlesome in the Gulf due to varying levels o

sophistication in aircraft interrogation systems, language barriers, and the shee

number of aircraft involved.

107
did not hear Warden’s ruminations about using AC-130

gunships as Scud killers.34

Before long, the subject turned to doctrine. Warden told the

CINC that the Instant Thunder planning had engendered

“extraordinary joint integration and cooperation.” As far as he

could see, there had been “no doctrinal disconnects” between

any of the services in the making of the plan. That said

Warden reached into a plain cardboard box and began

handing out copies of The Air Campaign: Planning for Combat

the book he had written as a student at National Defense

University in 1988. He handed one to Schwarzkopf

commenting that he could use the book or simply throw it

away. The CINC opened it, looked at a few pages, and then

quietly set it aside.35

“What’s the cost in human life to us?” asked Schwarzkopf.

Warden hesitated a moment. “In my professiona

judgement,” he answered, looking directly at the CINC, “we’l

lose 10 to 20 aircraft the first night. After that, less. Three to

five percent total.”

General Rogers, USCENTCOM vice-commander

emphatically shook his head and frowned. “[I] disagree. I think

it will be higher—10 to 15 percent—but we can live with it for

a short period.”36

A murmur washed through the crowd as the significance o

what both men were saying sunk in. Most of the audience

tended to favor General Rogers’s estimate over Warden’s. From

the looks of things, Iraqi air defenses were going to be

tough—real tough. In fact, some of the aviators in the room

were convinced that the loss rates would be much higher than

either man predicted.

Warden waited until the noise abated and then calmly

walked over to General Rogers. “I’ll tell you why I think losses

will be lower,” said Warden in a kindly, professorial tone. He

carefully explained how Instant Thunder’s massive attacks on

the Iraqi air defense system in the first 15 minutes of the war

would simply overwhelm it, causing confusion and paralysis

According to Warden, the Iraqi air defenses were actually not

all that good and certainly could be suppressed. After the first

day or two of the war, Warden argued, coalition forces would

108
have almost complete air superiority throughout the operating

area. “I’m a volunteer to fly,” said Warden, smiling broadly. 37

Rogers, his arms folded in front of him, was stil

unimpressed. “You’ve answered most [of my questions],” he

said glumly, “but you’ve ignored Kuwait. 38 I don’t think we can

flank Kuwait.”39

“I’m not worried about ground forces in Kuwait,” 40 said

Schwarzkopf impatiently, as he massaged his jaw with his lef

hand. “Can you fly around ground-to-air defenses building

[up] in Kuwait?”

Warden started to reply, but General Moore beat him to it

“[We] can do lethal or nonlethal suppression.”

“We can even do deception to induce them to put SAMs

[surface-to-air missiles] in Kuwait,” said Warden, a glint in his

eye. “[It’s] a good place for them!” 41

Schwarzkopf smiled at the comment and nodded his head in

approval. The briefing turned back to logistics and basing

with the principals voicing concern over the possibility o

quickly saturating the operating bases in Saudi and

elsewhere.

“How long to build up an infrastructure [to handle the flow

of forces and materiel]?” asked Schwarzkopf.

“[We’re] not sure [that] in a week and a half we’ve answered

all the questions,” replied Meier cautiously. The JCS two-star

did not want the CINC to believe that this little group he had

brought down from Washington knew everything. A lot more

work needed to be done.42

Bob Johnston, Schwarzkopf’s chief of staff—a ramrod

straight, perfectly chiseled Marine two-star—volunteered hi

thoughts on the subject. “[We] might want to protract, to build

SEAD capability. Do we have a plan to stretch this out

logistically?”43

The CINC shot Johnston a disgusted look, growling, “By the

end of the first week we’ll have all kinds of pressure to get

out!44 The [United Nations] Security Council will scream. If we

can be done in six days, we can say we’re sorry and get out. [It

may not be pretty, but we’re gonna get this.” 45

General Meier, realizing that Schwarzkopf was leaning

heavily in favor of Instant Thunder, jumped in and

109
summarized the plan’s advantages one more time. 46 His word

whipped Schwarzkopf into a frenzy.

“This is what makes the US a superpower!” shouted the

CINC as he pointed to the Instant Thunder slides. “This uses

our strengths against their weaknesses, not our small army

against their large army.” He half stood up and slammed his

open palm down hard on the tabletop, his eyes glistening and

his jaw jutting forward. “Our air power against theirs is [the

way to go—that’s why I called you guys in the first place!” 47

“What can we do for you?” asked Meier, his eyes moving

from Schwarzkopf to Warden and the assembled Washington

team and back again to Schwarzkopf.48

“[The] first assistance is him,” said Schwarzkopf, pointing a

finger at Warden. The CINC turned, faced the colonel, and

stared. It was curious to watch Schwarzkopf, a burly hulk of a

man, his face huge and fleshy, peering down at the smaller

angular John Warden—rather like a bear taking the measure

of a wolf. “Go to Riyadh with at least one other,” ordered

Schwarzkopf. “I’m sending you to Riyadh, to Horner—to brie

him,” he said again, still staring. “To hand [the] plan off. My

intention is to continue to plan, to refine it to [the] point o

execution.”49

Schwarzkopf relaxed a little and walked over to Warden

“Don’t leave the package,”* he cautioned. “Carry and deliver i

to Chuck Horner.” The CINC looked at General Meier. “Any

problem?”

“No problem, sir,” Meier replied. “How soon?”

“We’re at war,” snorted the CINC. “The sooner, the better.” 50

Notes

1. Air Staff Protocol Document: President Bush/SECDEF Meeting, 13

August 1990, Deptula file 5, Desert Story Collection, US Air Force Historica

Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala.

*Hours before the briefing, General Schwarzkopf received a call from Genera

Dugan, who told him that if he liked the plan and wanted to implement it, he should

consider it his own and make certain his air component commander, General Horner

understood that. Unless Schwarzkopf owned the plan, it might encounter opposition

(e.g., from Horner) and prove unworkable. Gen Michael J. Dugan, Washington, D.C.

transcript of interview with author, 15 August 1991, 13–14, Desert Story Collection

US Air Force Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala.

110
2. David Hoffman and Patrick E. Tyler, “Bush Denounces Saddam as

Threat to Arabs, West,” Washington Post, 16 August 1990, A31.

3. Col Richard D. Bristow, Langley AFB, Va., transcript of interview with

Lt Col Edward C. Mann and author, 9 November 1992, 43–44, Desert Story

Collection, US Air Force Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala.

4. Ibid., 32.

5. Ibid., 38–39.

6. Ibid., 38.

7. Ibid.

8. Lt Gen Robert M. Alexander, Washington, D.C., transcript of interview

with Lt Col Suzanne B. Gehri, Lt Col Edward C. Mann, and author, 3 June

1992, 20, Desert Story Collection, US Air Force Historical Research Agency

Maxwell AFB, Ala.

9. Ibid., 21.

10. Ibid.

11. Ibid.

12. Bristow, 9 November 1992, 43.

13. Ibid., 43, 46–48.

14. Ibid., 15, 58.

15. Lt Col Dave Deptula and Maj Buck Rogers, Maxwell AFB, Ala.

transcript of interview with Lt Col Suzanne B. Gehri, Lt Col Edward C

Mann, and author, 22 May 1991, 20, Desert Story Collection, US Air Force

Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala.

16. Notes, Lt Col Ben Harvey, 77–86, Desert Story Collection, US Ai

Force Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala. (Secret) Information

extracted here and in subsequent references is unclassified. Hereinafte

referred to as Harvey. See also Deptula and Rogers, 22 May 1991, 4–20, fo

an expanded account of the difficulties between Warden and Meier.

17. Bristow, 9 November 1992, 56.

18. Deptula and Rogers, 22 May 1991, 15.

19. Bristow, 9 November 1992, 15, 58. For a more detailed look a

General Russ’s view, see Gen Robert D. Russ, Alexandria, Va., transcript o

interview with Lt Col Suzanne B. Gehri, Lt Col Edward C. Mann, and

author, 9 December 1991, 8–14, Desert Story Collection, US Air Forc

Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala.

20. Bristow, 9 November 1992, 15.

21. Harvey, 88.

22. Personal notes, Lt Col Dave Deptula. Information extracted here and

in subsequent references is unclassified. Hereinafter referred to as Deptula.

23. Harvey, 88.

24. Ibid., 89, 90.

25. Ibid., 90.

26. Ibid., 91.

27. Ibid., 92.

28. Ibid.

29. Ibid., 71–93.

30. Ibid., 93.

31. Col John A. Warden III, Washington, D.C., transcript of interview

with Lt Col Suzanne B. Gehri, Lt Col Edward C. Mann, and author, 30 May

111
1991, 120–21, Desert Story Collection, US Air Force Historical Research

Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala.

32. Harvey, 93.

33. Ibid.

34. Ibid., 94–95.

35. Ibid., 95.

36. Ibid.; and Deptula.

37. Harvey, 96.

38. Ibid.

39. Deptula.

40. Ibid.

41. Harvey, 96.

42. Ibid., 97.

43. Ibid., 97–98.

44. Deptula.

45. Harvey, 98.

46. Ibid.

47. Ibid.; and Deptula.

48. Harvey, 98.

49. Ibid., 98–99.

50. Ibid., 99.

112
Chapter 7

1740/Sat/18 Aug 90/Andrews AFB MD

The heat was unbearable. Sweat ran in rivulets down Lt Co

Dave Deptula’s face as he struggled to find a comfortable spot

in the rear of the overcrowded aircraft. The big, four-engined

RC-135 had been waiting on the ramp at Andrews for almost

an hour now, delayed by thunderstorms that were rumbling

up and down the East Coast. At first, Deptula tried to read Th

Role of Airpower in the Iran-Iraq War ,

1 a thin paperback h

had stuffed into his briefcase at the last moment, but the

stifling heat and close quarters made concentration difficult.

Col John Warden was nearby, amid a jumble of boxes and

cargo gear, wearing the same flight suit he had worn as com

mander of the 36th Tactical Fighter Wing in Bitburg, Germany

several years ago.* His flying attire was a bit unusual and stood

out, even to the most casual military observer. Whereas “bags”*

usually had a single unit-identifier patch on the upper righ

shoulder, Warden’s was replete with the three fighter squadron

patches from his old Bitburg wing. A colorful menagerie of bull

dogs, bumblebees, and tigers ran from his shoulder to his elbow.

Despite the heat and cramped conditions, Warden appeared

happier and more relaxed than anyone had seen him in a long

time. The third member of Warden’s group, Lt Col Ben Harvey

a small, dark-haired man in his early forties, was sitting

quietly and making entries in what appeared to be a diary. To

his left was the last member of the group, Lt Col Ron Stanfill, a

big-boned, brusque, F-111 pilot who almost didn’t get to make

the trip. Warden had wanted Stanfill to stay at the Pentagon

and mind the store while he, Deptula, and Harvey went to

Riyadh. But Stanfill had pleaded with Warden, citing his

abilities as a weaponeer and planner, arguing with the colone

that his presence was absolutely necessary. At first, Warden

refused, saying that too many people would be going into

*Warden commanded this unit from August 1987 to January 1988.

**Aircrew slang for flight suit.

113
theater. Before long, however, under increasing pressure from

Stanfill, Warden relented and allowed him to go. 2

None of that mattered now. Warden and the others could

hear the big engines change pitch from a rumble to a roar as

the heavily loaded reconnaissance plane charged down the

runway and clawed its way into an angry Maryland sky

Deptula pressed his head back against the bulkhead, gratefu

for the first rush of cool air that poured into the cargo area

from the now-operating air-conditioning system. Thank God

he’d had enough sense to borrow a few larger, more

comfortable flight suits from his good friend Maj Buck Rogers

He closed his eyes and smiled, remembering how his wife

Dianna, although protesting loudly, managed to get his rank

sewn on and everything packed before he made his hasty

departure.3

His reverie was interrupted when Colonel Warden tapped

him gently on the shoulder and told him that he wanted to go

over the briefing material several more times during the trip

just in case they had missed an item or needed to add

something to the attack plan. As it stood, Instant Thunder was

jammed into two four-inch-thick black binders, the product o

thousands of man-hours of intensive, meticulous effort.

The document they would present to Horner was no simple

target list but a comprehensive, theater-level operations plan

It included targets, attack routes, timing, special operations

strategies, deceptions, commander’s intents—the whole nine

yards. Nevertheless, Warden told Deptula and the others tha

they couldn’t afford to be too confident. The fact that they had

won the battle of Washington didn’t mean that the battle for

the hearts and minds of CENTAF, especially General Horner’s

was going to be a cakewalk.4

1730/Sun/19 Aug 90/Riyadh, Saudi Arabia

The late afternoon sun hovered low over the Saudi desert as

Warden’s jet touched down in Riyadh and taxied to a halt, 20

hours after leaving Andrews. Except for a brief stop at

Hellenikon AB, outside of Athens, Greece, they had been in the

air the entire time. To Deptula, the environment reminded him

114
of his days in Phoenix, Arizona, when he went through F-15

upgrade training. It was blast-furnace hot, and dry as bone

The travelers dragged their bags through the heat and waited

for a ride to Royal Saudi Air Force headquarters. Before long, a

car pulled up, driven by an Air Force lieutenant colonel named

Lauberbach.5

Lauberbach was agitated because he was expecting only one

person. His tiny car—jammed with chemical protection gear

bottled water, and an odd assortment of cups and glasses—

couldn’t possibly hold all five of them! Deptula, Harvey, and

Stanfill agreed that Warden would accompany the lieutenan

colonel to headquarters and that another driver would come

back later to pick them up. But the sun had long set before

they were finally reunited with Colonel Warden at RSAF

headquarters. Without the briefing materials, the colonel had

been able to do little in their absence but wander the halls and

make discreet inquiries about when his companions would

arrive from the airfield.

The four planners ate a quick dinner and discussed wha

would come next. CENTAF staffers had gotten word tha

Warden had been scheduled to brief them at 1600. When he

didn’t show up, they assumed the briefing had been cancelled

Warden told Deptula and the others that the briefing was

rescheduled for 2200 that evening. Only key members of the

CENTAF staff would be there. They would have to deal with

Horner later.

2200/Sun/19 Aug 90/HQ RSAF/

Riyadh, Saudi Arabia

Warden and his party gathered in the narrow, spit-and

polish conference room on the third floor of RSAF head

quarters at the appointed hour but had to cool their heels for

almost 30 minutes while they waited for General Olsen

Horner’s deputy. Waiting with them were Brig Gen Pa

Caruana, Horner’s strategic forces advisor; Brig Gen Larry

Henry, an electronic warfare expert; Col Jim Crigger, CENTAF

director of operations; Col John Leonardo, CENTAF director o

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intelligence; and Lt Col Sam Baptiste, Ninth Air Force weapons

and tactics expert, who had accompanied Lt Col Foose Wilson

to his meeting with General Horner the week before. Wilson

was there too, looking tired and frustrated. He elbowed

Deptula and whispered that he would talk to him later about

what had been going on.6

When General Olsen finally arrived, the briefing quickly go

under way. As Warden worked through the slides, the CENTAF

staffers seemed very interested and attentive. They asked

some questions about aircraft selection for targets in

downtown Baghdad, and then General Olsen and Ron Stanfil

spent considerable time agreeing that F-111Fs were infinitely

preferable to the F-111Ds currently scheduled to come into

theater. Near the end of the briefing, Olsen smiled broadly and

told the group that the Instant Thunder plan “sounded like a

good start” and that he hoped they had “brought more than

three days of clothes.”7 According to Olsen, the Instan

Thunder plan was exactly what they had wanted to build, but

they had simply run out of time and focused on the near

term.8

Jim Crigger gave the Checkmate group a thumbnail sketch

of the D day plan that his staff and almost everyone else in

CENTAF had been working on since their arrival in-theater

This all-out defensive plan to blunt an attack on Saudi Arabia

and her oil fields was the near-term effort Olsen had alluded to

earlier.* A lot of people in Riyadh were convinced that the

heavily armored Iraqi ground forces that rolled through Kuwai

were getting ready to launch an attack into Saudi Arabia as

well. Horner was one of them.9

“Right now,” said General Olsen as he paused and took a

long drink from his water glass, “we’re fully employed just

trying to pull things together. In a week we’ll have more

people. I’d have to pull people out of jobs,” he said, nodding

toward the intelligence and operations directors, “[in order] to

assign [them] to [a] special study group [i.e., Instant Thunder

planning]. I could do it,” he said slowly, biting his lower lip and

wrinkling his forehead.10

*By mid-September 1990, Horner had de-emphasized the plan when it becam

apparent that the Iraqis were moving to a defensive posture in Kuwait.

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During the awkward pause, Olsen possibly was remem

bering how quickly the Iraqis had roared through Kuwait and

was weighing what kind of effort he could afford to divert from

the D day plan to Instant Thunder. Before the invasion

intelligence sources had assured them that Iraqi forces would

need about a month to take Kuwait. Instead, the Iraqis were

able to park their tanks at the Saudi border only three days

after the invasion started! The Instant Thunder plan seemed to

offer a fundamentally sound way of countering the Iraqi threa

with air power alone, and—as Olsen had to admit—the only

thing CENTCOM had in-theater these days was air power. 11

“People need to work this and [the] defensive campaign,”1

said Crigger.

Everyone at the meeting seemed to agree that Instan

Thunder was a welcome addition to CENTAF’s planning

arsenal. Larry Henry, the only person who had any serious

problems with the plan, wasn’t even a bona fide member of the

CENTAF staff. A lanky, leather-faced brigadier general, Henry

was known for his heroic exploits as an F-4 backseater in the

Vietnam War. He had been sent into theater only days before

by Gen Bob Russ, the TAC commander, to assist Horner with

electronic warfare planning. Like so many others who followed

in the months ahead, Henry—at this time—had no official title

or position in the CENTAF hierarchy—he was simply there to

help.

Henry objected to what appeared to him to be an assignment of forces by route packs*—a throwback to the Vietnam

era. He argued that this kind of targeting would cause

doctrinal problems among the services. Dave Deptula, who

had put together the attack portions of Instant Thunder

assured the general that they had no intention of fragmenting

the attack plan into segments controlled by each service (i.e.

Navy, Marine Corps, and Air Force).

*A targeting procedure used during the Vietnam War, whereby each service oper 

ated in a particular attack area (i.e., a route pack) and assumed responsibility for it

own separation and safety. This system eliminated the need for one service to coordi 

nate closely with the other services while it operated in the attack area but prevented

the optimization of weapons and aircraft against enemy targets. The term packs is th

GI shortening of the word packages, which refers to the multiple aircraft package

that flew the various routes within the theater.

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He explained that, because of the long distances to many o

the targets, the planners assigned targets based on the

proximity of friendly forces. Thus, the Marine Corps and the

Persian Gulf battle group would strike targets in southeastern

Iraq and Kuwait; the Air Force would take the center section o

Iraq and some of the western approaches; and the Red Sea

task force would focus primarily on the western portion o

Iraq.13 But none of this would preclude the use of appropriate

weapons and aircraft across the entire breadth of Iraq and

Kuwait. The explanation apparently satisfied Henry since he

let the issue drop, and they quickly moved on to other things.

The meeting didn’t adjourn until well after midnight. By that

time, Warden and his colleagues had been up for over 24

hours and needed some sleep. They were given the keys to a

small car and told to find their way to the White Palace Hotel

where reservations had been made for them. The four men

drove around for almost an hour, the gas gauge of the white

sedan edging down and then settling firmly on empty, before

one of them spotted the place. When they tried to check in, the

clerk told them—to their dismay—that the hotel had given

away their rooms! Deptula sat dejectedly on a jumble o

suitcases at curbside, halfheartedly scribbling notes, while

Warden and Stanfill persuaded the reluctant clerk to let them

sleep on cots in the ballroom rather than send them out into

the night.14

Before long, the four planners joined about 300 other

hapless souls in the hotel ballroom, where they quickly

undressed and slid into bed. As the others drifted off to sleep

Warden lay awake, staring at the huge filigreed ceiling. He

could hardly contain himself. The plan—his plan—was really

coming together. They had been in Riyadh less than six hours

but the CENTAF vice-commander and other importan

members of Horner’s staff already had given them thumbs-up

on Instant Thunder! Before leaving the headquarters building

Olsen had told the colonel and his party that they should

come back in the morning so he could take them around and

help them get oriented.15 With any luck, mused Warden, as he

rolled over and pulled the single white sheet up around his

shoulders, he and the rest of his team would be asked to stay

and “pick up the responsibility for doing the strategic planning

118
for General Horner.”16 With that tantalizing thought racing

around his head, John Warden fell into a fitful sleep.

0630/Mon/20 Aug 90/Riyadh, Saudi Arabia

Warden arose the next morning and trundled down to the

indoor swimming pool area along with Deptula, Harvey, and

Stanfill for a hot shower and a shave. When they returned to

the hotel cafe, they were pleasantly surprised to find a

first-rate breakfast buffet. The sight of the delicately arranged

fruits, juices, and cereals and the aroma of freshly brewed

Arabian coffee made them realize how long it had been since

they had anything decent in their stomachs. For the first time

since they had been on the trip, there was little conversation

between them as they piled their plates high with delicacies

and made their way back to the table. They ate ravenously

thinking about what the day would bring. In less than an

hour, they were ready to go.

General Olsen proved true to his word. After they arrived at

RSAF headquarters at 0800, they were taken to the basement

where they met a large number of operations and intelligence

people and then toured the tactical air control center

Everyone seemed helpful and full of enthusiasm. As Warden

and his colleagues walked through the headquarters, people

were saying, “How can we help you? What can we do? What do

you need?”17 Good news and pleasant feelings seemed to pile

one on top of the other.

Before long, Warden got word that he was scheduled to brie

General Horner at 1330. He was ebullient! This was the momen

he had been waiting for—the reason he had travelled to Saud

Arabia in the first place. At last he would have a chance to give a

face-to-face explanation of Instant Thunder to the man

Schwarzkopf had charged with executing it. Perhaps if Warden

had listened more closely to Foose Wilson, he would have

understood exactly what kind of a minefield he was walking into

and wouldn’t have been quite so eager to go through it.

Foose had talked candidly to Dave Deptula about all the

things he had encountered at CENTAF since his arrival the

week before. In Wilson’s view, the CENTAF staff had no

119
leadership and was wandering adrift. Although the comba

operations staff continued to work on the immediate problem

of “what if the Iraqis cross the line with tanks,” nobody seemed

interested in long-term issues and problems.18 Wilson

complained bitterly to Deptula that CENTAF’s total effort was

directed at tactical-level details and that no one was looking at

employing air power offensively with a strategic plan. He even

bridled over the Saudis’ stingy allocation of floor space in their

Pentagon-sized facility. They’d given CENTAF just two rooms

for all their people and equipment. It was preposterous

According to Wilson, ever since he had arrived in Riyadh

everyone had been slow-rolling him.19 He was afraid that afte

Deptula and the others left, the plan they had brought with

them would die of neglect. The afternoon briefing would prove

Wilson wrong. The object was not neglect—but murder.

1355/Mon/20 Aug 90/HQ RSAF/

Riyadh, Saudi Arabia

John Warden rearranged his slides and other briefing

paraphernalia for what seemed to be the hundredth time as he

waited for General Horner to appear. Foose Wilson’s

pessimism had done little to dissuade Warden from his firm

belief that, given a chance, he could convince the general—or

anyone else—of the efficacy of the Instant Thunder plan. Not

that Warden believed he was such a great briefer. On the

contrary, he hardly gave a thought to his own capabilities. To

him, ideas and concepts mattered—not people. If a great plan

like Instant Thunder were properly explained, even the

harshest, most jaded critic would see its value. All it took was

patience and a clear understanding of the subject. The rest

would follow. Still, the colonel couldn’t help noticing that his

fingers were clammy and his mouth seemed uncomfortably

dry.

Suddenly, Warden was jolted out of his reverie by the crash

of chairs slamming against the heavy wooden table as people

struggled to rise from their seats and stand at attention in the

12′ x 35′ briefing room. Horner had arrived. The stocky

120
three-star grunted out a “take your seats” as he ambled to his

place, pulled out a chair, and sat down. He didn’t look happy

How could he be? Since departing the States on 4 August, he

had been working nonstop as the CENTCOM forward

commander. His every waking hour had been consumed with

coordinating land, sea, and air deployments; working

host-nation issues; dealing with the State Department

soothing the media; and a hundred other equally absorbing

tasks. He’d been up all hours of the night talking with key

decision makers in the United States and Europe, including

his own boss, General Schwarzkopf. Horner had precious little

time to think about his real job as CENTAF commander

However, until the CINC arrived, it looked as though he were

going to have to rely on Tom Olsen and the rest of the staff to

keep things going in the RSAF compound. For a guy who was

used to running his own air show, this had been a tough, very

frustrating couple of weeks.

Warden hurried over to the three-star and placed a large bag

in front of him. Horner gave the colonel a puzzled look and

then gingerly peeked inside.

“What is this [expletive deleted]?” he asked. 20

Warden hastily explained that the bag contained all the lip

balm, razors, and suntan lotion that he, Deptula, and Stanfil

could find in the few hours they had before reporting to

Andrews AFB for the trip to Riyadh. Their boss, Lt Gen Jimmie

Adams, suggested they bring these items because he had

heard they were in short supply in-theater and thought the

CENTAF people could use them.21 Horner’s face twisted into a

sneer as he roughly shoved the heavy package aside. “Proceed,” 2

was all he said.

Not far into the briefing, Horner interrupted Warden in

mid-sentence. “Go, go!” he said, grimacing and waving his

hands impatiently at the slides. “I know all that!” 23

Horner’s imperiousness seemed to deflate Warden. He

seemed nervous and unsteady, no longer the plucky colone

who had put on smooth, forceful performances in front o

Schwarzkopf and Powell. The simple fact was that despite his

many years in the Air Force fighter community, rudeness or

vulgarity made John Warden uncomfortable. He didn’t behave

121
that way, and he couldn’t understand why others would. It

confused him.

Warden took a deep breath and looked at Horner. The

general’s tired, red-rimmed eyes revealed nothing—or at leas

nothing Warden could make sense of. It was curious that

these two men were so far apart intellectually and emotionally

Both wore flight suits, both were fighter pilots, and both had

done combat tours in Vietnam. Unquestionably, their records

indicated they were supremely capable airmen. Yet, they

seemed to have no common lineage—nothing upon which to

build mutual trust or confidence. Thoroughly unsettled

Warden turned back to his slides.

Horner let Warden run through the rest of the briefing with

few additional interruptions. As the colonel explained each o

the charts and diagrams, Horner sat stonefaced, occasionally

mumbling to himself. Although the room was jammed with

CENTAF people—Olsen, Crigger, Henry, and everyone else

present at last night’s briefing—all of them were strangely

silent.

When Warden concluded, Horner coughed and remarked

that he had a “little trouble” with the plan’s basic premise o

severing Iraq’s head from its body. “This may work in the short

term, but [in] 20 years [it] will be disaster. [It will] create

hatred against America!”24

Horner began to pick at the specifics of the plan, insinuating

that it directed too much energy toward the destruction o

Iraq’s strategic air defense system rather than its

neutralization. “Did you do analysis of destruction versus

neutralization?”25 he asked.

Warden did not answer directly. Instead, he talked abou

Instant Thunder’s commitment of 35–40 percent of coalition

forces to the destruction of Iraqi aircraft on the ground. 26 I

was almost as though the two men were talking to each other

on different frequencies. Impatient and visibly frustrated with

his inability to get Warden to answer him directly, Horner

turned to Colonel Crigger, his operations director.

“Jim, take a look,” he said, pointing in the general direction

of Warden and his slides. “[It] may be [a] poor way to dedicate

effort.”27 Horner then shifted in his seat and leaned forward

staring hard at the thin-lipped colonel from Washington.

122
“What percentage of the effort is being used to eliminate

[Saddam Hussein]?” he asked. “Did you study his command

and control?”

“The study’s not good,” shot back Warden in a tone that

surprised even him. He remembered the incomplete and

shoddily prepared report on the Iraqi C2 system he had

stumbled across in Washington the week before. It offered

little to his planners, and he couldn’t imagine it doing

anything for the general.

Horner frowned and turned to Colonel Leonardo, his

intelligence officer. “John,” he said, gravel in his voice, “we

must study his C2. [We] want to make sure we destroy hi

command and control.”

“[You] can’t make sure,” someone commented from the fron

of the briefing room. All heads turned to see who had spoken

It was Warden.

Horner talked slowly now, his jaw clenched, a hard edge

forming on every word. “Not your job. We’ll make sure. You

made an academic study,” he said, chewing on the word

academic as though it were something distasteful. “I’ve got to

make it reality.”28

For a moment, no one said anything. The muffled sounds o

Riyadh street traffic three floors below crept into the room

Sensing that he had somehow offended the general, Warden

cleared his throat and stepped back from the table. Horner

continued.

“What’s the goal of [attacking] the railroads?” he asked

“What’s the goal of the airfield attacks?”

Warden began to answer, but Horner—obviously

irritated—interrupted him. “What’s the goal of the ports

disruption? Is this a mulligan stew? I’m not quite sure why

you’re doing all this,” he said, shaking his head and looking

up and down the table at his staff. They said nothing. Turning

back to Warden, the general asked, “Do you know what the

[Iraqi military] storage and production usage rates are?” 2

Before Warden could answer, Horner pointed a finger a

Colonel Leonardo and said, “John, look at storage versus

production.”30

Only when Horner asked a question about the use of Navy

TLAMs was Warden able to reestablish a dialogue with him

123
Horner was concerned that using TLAMs, which had a

relatively small warhead (750–1,000 pounds), would be an

expensive waste of effort.31 Warden assured him that the Navy

missiles were necessary because they made possible the

daylight attack of heavily defended sites in downtown Baghdad

without the risk of losing aircrews. 32 Mollified, Horner moved

on to the Instant Thunder slide that showed coalition forces in

the initial attack packages.

“[That] bullet on multinational forces is interesting,” he

commented, pointing to the slide.

Warden agreed, saying, “[The] chairman of the Joint Chiefs

of Staff wants non-US [forces] to bleed and die [as well].” 33 Th

colonel then launched into a detailed discussion of the types o

forces available to execute the Instant Thunder plan and the

strategic and tactical significance of the targets assigned to

each force. The longer Warden talked, the more bored Horner

became.

“Well look,” he said waving his hand in disgust. “Let’s not

use the terms strategic and tactical. Targets are targets.

Anxious to move Warden on to another subject, he asked

“What does the night buy you?” Before Warden could explain

all the nuances of the first night strike, the general interrupted

him yet again.

“Let’s be honest,” he said. “People are going to die! Don’t

deconflict by route packages. We did that in Vietnam; we’l

never do that again.”34 Horner let out a long sigh and shook

his head in exasperation. He sucked air in between his

clenched teeth and asked Warden, “In your thinking, were you

going to overwhelm [the enemy] or apply continuous

pressure?”35

“Both, really,” said Warden.

“I think you’d want to do both,” said Horner approvingly. “

need to do both! I’m looking at 600 sorties each [day].” Horner

pointed at Leonardo and Crigger. “You two take a look at what

would be required to conduct an overwhelming strike versus

what we need to conduct a sustained campaign.” 36

For the next few minutes, Horner and his staff discussed

targeting strategies while Warden and his assistants looked

on. It soon became clear that CENTAF’s focus was at the

tactical—not strategic—level of warfare. Sortie generation

124
tactics, and load-outs were the topics of the day. The broader

question of what they should do with their air power never

seemed to occur to them. As the talk continued, Warden’s

stomach grew tighter, and his face flushed. This was going to

be harder than even he had imagined. CENTAF was stuck in

the weeds.

The conversation soon turned back to the Instant Thunder

plan and the people who brought it.

“[Your] main effort was to do targeting,” said Horner. “[We

need to rethink targeting philosophy.”37

Horner then ordered his staff to remove the deployment and

readiness time lines Warden had briefed for the Instan

Thunder plan, arguing that they served no purpose other than

to advertise a totally unrealistic completion date for a notiona

war plan. Warden argued with the general, saying tha

everyone in the chain, including General Schwarzkopf, was

driving to a mid-September execution date. Horner didn’t seem

to care. As the acting CENTCOM forward commander, he was

convinced that his command could be ready for comba

operations no earlier than the end of September, when the 2d

Armored Division would arrive in-theater.38 Horner made i

clear that he would not feel comfortable about CENTCOM’s

ability to defend Saudi Arabia against attack until a strong US

Army contingent showed up. Offensive options could come

later.

“We’ll take this target list that you’ve given us,” he said

refusing to acknowledge that Instant Thunder was, by al

rights, a theater-level operations plan. “We’ll refine it, but we’d

better be able to defend; we’d better be able to execute; and

it[‘d] better work. . . . How we do it depends on the dispersal of

hostages* and how that plays.39 El Dorado Canyon was

probably five times harder!”40 Apparently, Horner wa

convinced that the planning required to bring down Iraq would

be nowhere near as difficult as the planning involved in the

1986 raid against Muammar Qadhafi’s forces in Libya.

“Yes, sir!” chimed in Ronnie Stanfill, grateful for a chance to

say something to Horner and the staff. “But [our aircrews

won’t have much combat experience.”41 As Stanfill waxed

*Americans held by Saddam Hussein in Iraq and Kuwait.

125
eloquent about his role in the planning for El Dorado Canyon

John Warden was quietly coming apart.

He simply could not believe what he had heard. Could

Horner really be so naive as to think that planning the

takedown of Iraq would be simpler than the planning required

for a one-time raid on Libya? Did the man really not

understand what was involved here and what was at stake?

Why was he so focused on this defensive nonsense? Didn’t he

see the danger in that? Warden frantically tried to decide what

to do next. Somehow, he had to get Horner thinking

strategically! But how?

“[I] think we need to put more on Hussein,” 42 said Warden

in a casual, off-handed way. It appeared that Warden was

offering some bait in an attempt to move the general in the

right direction.

“[I’m] skeptical about getting Hussein,”43 said Horner, giving

a knowing wink to his intelligence officer.

Warden leaned forward and put his thin, well-manicured

hands on the polished conference table. “[It’s] not imperative

to get him,” he answered slowly. “[We] need [only] to isolate

him for a while.”44

Horner cupped his face in his hands and rubbed his tired

eyes. He had little patience left. This staff puke from Washington

with his academic answers was making it hard for him to keep

from blowing up.

“Our goal,” said Horner, pulling himself up from a slouching

position in his chair and glaring at Warden, “[is to] build an

A—T—O!”45 Horner was almost shouting now, his voice

squeezing out each word. “[The operation] should be open

ended, beyond six days;* [the goal], gut Iraq.”46 Horne

paused for a moment and rested his meaty forearms on the

table, drawing circles on the polished surface with his index

finger. Calmer now, he said, “[It isn’t] necessarily [a war

against the Iraqi people. [As it is,] we’ll incur a 200-year

penalty because you’re [sic] not Arab.” The three-star

continued, saying, “[We] must give [the] CINC [this] option in

[the] event of unacceptable Iraqi behavior.”47

*Instant Thunder called for a six-to-nine-day execution phase.

126
Horner looked back again at John Warden. A smile flickered

across his lips as the anger ebbed from his eyes. “[I’ll] take

[your] list and refine [it] a bit,” he said, nodding toward the

binders containing the Instant Thunder attack plan. “[There

are] some good things,” he grudgingly acknowledged, “[like

leadership [and] command and control.” He paused for a

moment. “[But I] don’t think we have a good feel for [the

defensive [battle] yet.”48

Horner then launched into a discussion on the advantages

of various weapons platforms, including the B-52. He wanted

aircraft and equipment that did not compromise his ability to

defend Saudi Arabia from attack.49

 Something Warden said earlier had been gnawing at Horner

all through the meeting. If it were true, the planning for any

operation—offensive or defensive—would be much more diffi

cult. Horner had to be certain.

“From [the] chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff is [the

assumption [the war plan] must be multinational?” he asked

skeptically.

“Yes, sir,” replied Warden, his heart pounding wildly.

Horner frowned, tapping his forehead. He ordered his staf

to “build this in isolation,” meaning without multinationa

planning assistance. “[The] idea is not to hide [the plan] from

the Saudis but to build [it] before we explain it to them. I’m

still uncomfortable about the target list,” he added. “I don’t see

[Instant Thunder] as a slick plan but as a ‘hit-him-in-the-face

[kind of thing].”50

“How many times have we done this? Twenty?” he asked his

staff, leaning back, his arms outstretched. [expletive deleted]

he chortled, “this is not an exercise!” 51 Horner then lamented

the fact that it was taking so long for ground forces to get

in-theater while he faced a massive Iraqi armored threat only

hours from his headquarters.

Warden could stand it no longer. All this talk from Horner

about focusing on the defense and about waiting for land

forces to arrive and now—in his view—a perfectly irrationa

concern on the general’s part about Iraqi armor perched

behind sand berms a hundred miles away in the desert made

Warden angry. Hadn’t Horner heard anything that he had

127
been saying? Instant Thunder obviated the need for all o

those concerns.

“You’re being overly pessimistic about those tanks,” 52 h

said curtly to the three-star. It was classic John Warden

Instantly, a hush fell over the room. At the far end of the table

someone’s wristwatch started beeping. In the tense silence

the tiny noise seemed louder than the wails of air-raid sirens

being tested around the city. If Warden heard the sound, he

didn’t show it. Perhaps he didn’t care. He rested his hand on

the planning binders and went on talking. “Ground forces

aren’t important to [the] campaign,” he said, matter-of-factly

shrugging his shoulders and gesturing toward the general. “

don’t believe they can move under [our] air superiority.” 53

During the ensuing silence, Horner stared daggers at the

colonel. The muscles in his jaw twitched, but still he said

nothing. At first, Warden stared back at the brooding

three-star, frustrated that he was unable to make him

understand and accept the Instant Thunder plan. After wha

seemed an eternity, Warden looked around the room and saw

that no one else was moving. Even Harvey, Stanfill, and

Deptula were staring straight ahead. It was as though

everyone, save Horner and Warden, was afraid to take a

breath. Warden turned his gaze back to General Horner and

looked him in the eyes.

“I apologize,”54 he said softly.

The three-star swiveled around and, with his back to Warden

said mockingly, “I’m being very, very patient, aren’t I?” 55

“Yes, sir!”56 said someone in the room.

“I’m being very, very tolerant, aren’t I?” 57

“Yes, sir!”58 the same person replied, even more loudly. The

other staffers began to nod their heads vigorously. 

“I’m really being nice not to make the kind of response that

you-all would expect me to make, aren’t I?” 59

“Oh, yes, sir!”60 the same voice agreed. The other staffers al

nodded their heads in unison.

Satisfied, Horner turned back to Warden, the smile

disappearing from his face. “I accept your apology,” 61 h

deadpanned.

A sigh of relief filled the room, and things quickly returned

to normal. Well, almost normal. The curious thing was that

128
after the outburst, John Warden, for all practical purposes

ceased to exist—at least in Horner’s eyes and those of the

CENTAF staff. Despite the fact that he was standing in their

midst at the head of the briefing table, Horner no longer

addressed him; consequently, neither did anyone else on the

CENTAF staff. After a while, numb with disbelief and utter

despair at what he perceived as the failure of his mission

Warden shuffled over to a nearby chair and sank down.

Horner, on the other hand, seemed energized and happy

after the exchange. He pushed back slightly from the table—a

blank expression still on his face, save for a slight twinkle in

his eyes—turned to Larry Henry, and said laughingly, “And

you didn’t think I could control my emotions.” 62

“I owe you a drink on that one, ‘cause you sure did that

time!”63 Henry chuckled. By now, other people in the room

were laughing quietly, relishing the predicament Warden had

managed to get himself into and at the same time grateful they

didn’t have to take the heat.

The mood quickly turned serious. “If they want to fight the

war,” Horner said, referring to the people in Washington who

had helped put Instant Thunder together, “tell them to come to

theater. Jimmie Adams knows you don’t fight from

Washington!”64 The CENTAF staff murmured their approval

They had heard rumors all week long about some hotshots

from Washington who were on their way to the theater with

instructions on how to fight the war. Horner didn’t like

outsiders telling him what to do, especially ivory tower types

like John Warden. The last 30 minutes made that perfectly

clear.

“Can I have Steve?” asked Horner, casually poking a finger

at Foose Wilson.

Warden was in a daze. “Well,” he stammered, “I’m not his

boss, but I’m sure you can.”

“Deptula,” growled Horner, “can you stick around?”

“Yes, sir,” answered Deptula, who had flown with Horner

several years before. “If you want me, I’ll be happy to stay and

help.”

“How about you?” asked Horner, pointing at Ben Harvey

who had been writing furiously, discreetly trying to capture

129
the entire briefing on paper. The lieutenant colonel looked up

from his notebook and nodded.

“How about you?” he asked Ron Stanfill. The F-111 pilot

broke into a wide grin and gave a thumbs-up. 65

Horner offered no more invitations. John Warden was going

home.

Notes

1. Maj Ronald E. Bergquist, The Role of Airpower in the Iran-Iraq Wa

(Maxwell AFB, Ala.: Air University Press, December 1988).

2. Personal notes, Lt Col Dave Deptula. Information extracted here and

in subsequent references is unclassified. Hereinafter referred to as Deptula.

3. Ibid.

4. Ibid.

5. Ibid.

6. Ibid.

7. Notes, Lt Col Ben Harvey, 109, Desert Story Collection, US Air Force

Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala. (Secret) Information

extracted here and in subsequent references is unclassified. Hereinafte

referred to as Harvey.

8. Deptula.

9. Col James Crigger, Shaw AFB, S.C., transcript of interviews with

Lt Col Suzanne B. Gehri and author, 2–4 December 1991, 16–20, Deser

Story Collection, US Air Force Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB

Ala.

10. Harvey, 110.

11. Crigger, 2–4 December 1991, 15–17.

12. Harvey, 110.

13. Deptula.

14. Ibid.

15. Col John A. Warden III, Washington, D.C., transcript of interview

with Lt Col Suzanne B. Gehri, 22 October 1991, 107, Desert Story

Collection, US Air Force Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB, Ala.

16. Ibid., 108.

17. Ibid., 107.

18. Deptula.

19. Ibid.

20. Ibid.

21. Ibid.

22. Ibid.

23. Harvey, 116.

24. Ibid., 116–17.

25. Ibid., 117.

26. Ibid.

27. Ibid.

28. Ibid., 117–18.

130
29. Deptula. For a slightly different version of this exchange between

Warden and Horner, see Harvey, 117–20.

30. Harvey, 118.

31. Deptula.

32. Harvey, 118.

33. Ibid.

34. Deptula.

35. Harvey, 119.

36. Deptula.

37. Harvey, 121.

38. Ibid.

39. Deptula.

40. Harvey, 122.

41. Ibid.

42. Ibid.

43. Ibid.

44. Ibid.

45. Ibid., 122–23.

46. Ibid.

47. Ibid.

48. Ibid., 123.

49. Ibid.

50. Ibid., 124.

51. Ibid.

52. Ibid., 125.

53. Ibid.

54. Ibid.

55. Warden, 22 October 1991, 109.

56. Ibid.

57. Ibid.

58. Ibid.

59. Ibid.

60. Ibid.

61. Ibid.

62. Lt Col Dave Deptula, Washington, D.C., transcript of interview with

Lt Col Suzanne B. Gehri, Lt Col Edward C. Mann, and author, 23 May 1991

47, Desert Story Collection, US Air Force Historical Research Agency

Maxwell AFB, Ala.

63. Ibid.

64. Harvey, 125.

65. Deptula.

131
Epilogue

A bone-weary and thoroughly disheartened John Warden did

leave Saudi Arabia the evening of 20 August 1990, but the

Instant Thunder plan he had brought to the theater stayed and

flourished there. The months ahead would vindicate Warden and

his air power ideas in ways even his most ardent supporters

would never have dreamt possible. Ironically, it was Genera

Horner’s decision not to keep Warden in-theater that allowed the

plan to move from a rejected idea to bombs on targets.

Back in Washington, Warden and a contingent of planning

intelligence, and operational personnel—both military and

civilian—exploited their connections to high-level federa

agencies and routinely provided ideas, suggestions, and

critical data to Deptula, Harvey, and Stanfill, who had been

left behind in Riyadh and needed all the help they could get

Shuffling from place to place and working with an old

Macintosh computer they had scrounged from a supply

sergeant who took pity on them, the trio bore no resemblance

to the powerful CENTAF planning force that would evolve from

their humble beginnings.

Less than 48 hours after Warden’s departure, the three

lieutenant colonels were joined at RSAF headquarters by Brig Gen

Buster C. Glosson, an outspoken, baritone-voiced North

Carolinian known for his fiery temper and fighter-pilot get-it-done

attitude. Glosson had been languishing on the USS LaSalle a

part of CENTCOM’s “floating staff” when Horner called and asked

him to help with the planning effort.1 He leapt at the chance

From the end of August to the outbreak of the war on 17 January

1991 and its conclusion 42 days later, Glosson became the engine

that drove the Desert Storm air campaign.

Not long after the one-star took control of the planning

process, it became apparent that he was more comfortable

working with Deptula than the other two men. Despite their bes

intentions, on more than one occasion Harvey and Stanfill found

themselves on the outside looking in. Increasingly bitter and

frustrated after several weeks in-theater, they returned to the

States, where they rejoined Warden in Checkmate and immersed

133
themselves in the task of providing highly sensitive infor

mation support to Glosson and Deptula.

The close working relationship and trust that developed

between Glosson, Deptula, and Horner not only figured heavily

in the survival and expansion of the Instant Thunder plan and

the influence of the Checkmate planners on events in Riyadh

but also allowed Deptula to succeed where Warden had failed

He was able to convince both Glosson and Horner of the

efficacy of Instant Thunder and the overarching value o

strategic attack. His loose, nonthreatening style and seemingly

limitless energy appealed to the two senior officers. Simply

put, Dave Deptula fit in; John Warden did not.

One of the keys to Deptula’s success was his uncanny ability to

make difficult things seem easy and bring solutions where others

brought only problems. His work depended heavily upon the

efforts of the ever-expanding Checkmate team, which swung into

24-hour operations for the duration of the war. The connection

with Warden gave Deptula the edge in every aspect of the planning

process. As a result, phase one of Horner’s air campaign looked

remarkably like John Warden’s Instant Thunder.

Just as importantly, as the months rolled by and the

massive buildup of men and machines created both problems

and targeting opportunities for coalition planners, Deptula’s

rapport with Glosson and Horner allowed Warden and

Checkmate to pass critical ideas and information to both men

However, this young lieutenant colonel was no mere condui

for the ideas of John Warden and the Checkmate information

mafia. Deptula was an air power thinker and strategist in his

own right and exerted tremendous influence on the size and

shape of the air campaign. Through Glosson and Horner, he

was able to affect what, where, when, and how targets were

attacked, disabled, or destroyed. If Glosson was the air

campaign’s engine, then surely Dave Deptula was the fuel

That, however, is another story.

Note

1. Lt Gen Charles A. Horner, Shaw AFB, S.C., transcript of interview

with Lt Col Suzanne B. Gehri and author, 3 December 1991, 15, Deser

Story Collection, US Air Force Historical Research Agency, Maxwell AFB

Ala.

134
What Became of Them?

Adams, Jimmie Lt Gen, USAF Promoted to general on

13 February 1991; retired a

commander of Pacific Ai

Forces, Hickam AFB, Hawaii

on 1 February 1993.

Alexander, Robert Maj Gen, USAF Promoted to lieutenant gen

eral on 2 August 1991 and

became the deputy assistan

secretary of defense for mili 

tary manpower an

personnel policy, Office of th

Secretary of Defense, Wash

ington, D.C.; now retired.

Autry, Dale Lt Col, USAF Promoted to colonel; cur

rently an instructor in th

Department of Military Stud

ies, Air War College, Maxwel

AFB, Alabama.

Baptiste, Sam Lt Col, USAF Promoted to colonel; cur

rently the director of oper

ations, Southeast Air Defens

Sector, Tyndall AFB, Florida.

Bettinger, Alex Col, USAF Retired in grade.

Bigelow, Dick Col, USAF Retired in grade.

Blackburn, Jim Col, USAF Retired in grade.

Boyd, Charles Lt Gen, USAF Promoted to general on

1 December 1992; now th

deputy CINC, United State

European Command, Stuttgart

Germany.

Bristow, Rich Col, USAF Worked on the staff of Ai

Combat Command, Langle

AFB, Virginia; retired in May

1994.

Butler, Lee Lt Gen, USAF Promoted to general on

25 January 1991; retired a

commander of US Strategi

135
Command, Offutt AFB, Ne

braska, on 1 March 1994.

Carns, Mike Lt Gen, USAF Promoted to general on

16 May 1991; appointed a

vice-chief of staff, Headquar

ters USAF, Washington

D.C.; now retired.

Chain, John Gen, USAF Retired in grade, 1 February

1991.

Clapper, James Maj Gen, USAF Promoted to lieutenant gen

eral on 15 November 1991

now director of the Defens

Intelligence Agency, Wash

ington, D.C.

Crigger, Jim Col, USAF Retired in grade.

Deptula, Dave Lt Col, USAF Promoted to colonel; now

the Air Force special assis

tant to the congressionally

appointed Military Roles and

Missions Commission.

Dugan, Mike Gen, USAF Replaced as USAF chief o

staff on 17 September 1990

by SECDEF Dick Cheney; re

tired from active duty on

1 January 1991; currently

the president of the Nationa

Multiple Sclerosis Society.

Glosson, Buster Brig Gen, USAF Promoted to lieutenant gen

eral on 1 June 1993; served

as deputy chief of staff fo

plans and operations, Head

quarters USAF, Washington

D.C.; retired 30 June 1994.

Griffith, Tom Brig Gen, USAF Promoted to lieutenant gen

eral on 1 August 1994; cur

rently the commander o

Twelfth Air Force/United

States Southern Command

136
at Davis-Monthan AFB, Ari

zona.

Harvey, Ben Lt Col, USAF Promoted to colonel; now

the special assistant to th

commander of US Southern

Command, Quarry Heights

Panama.

Hawkins, Doug Col, USAF Retired in grade.

Henry, Larry Brig Gen, USAF Promoted to major genera

on 1 December 1991; served

as deputy chief of plans and

operations, Headquarter

USAF, Washington, D.C.

now retired.

Horner, Charles Lt Gen, USAF Promoted to general on 

July 1992; became CINC o

US Space Command, Peter

son AFB, Colorado; now

retired.

Jeremiah, Dave Adm, USN Served as vice-chairman o

the JCS, Washington, D.C.

now retired.

Johnston, Bob Maj Gen, USMC Promoted to lieutenant gen

eral on 1 October 1991; now

deputy chief of staff for man

power and reserve affairs

Headquarters USMC, Wash

ington, D.C.

Kelly, Tom Lt Gen, USA Retired in grade, 31 March

1991.

Leonardo, John Col, USAF Retired in grade.

Loh, Mike Gen, USAF Commander, Air Comba

Command, Langley AFB, Vir

ginia.

May, Charles Maj Gen, USAF Promoted to lieutenant gen

eral on 1 February 1991

retired as USAF assistan

vice-chief of staff on 1 July

1992.

137
Meier, Jim Maj Gen, USAF Retired in grade, 1 Januar

1993.

Moore, Burton Maj Gen, USAF Retired in grade, 1 July

1992.

Olsen, Tom Maj Gen, USAF Retired in grade, 1 Novem

ber 1991.

Powell, Colin Gen, USA Retired in grade, 30 Septem

ber 1993.

Rogers, Buck Maj, USAF Promoted to lieutenant colo

nel; now a squadron directo

of operations, Royal Ai

Force, Lakenheath, England.

Russ, Robert Gen, USAF Retired in grade, 1 May

1991.

Ryan, Michael Maj Gen, USAF Promoted to lieutenant gen

eral on 10 May 1993; now

commander of 16th Air Forc

and of Allied Air Force

Southern Europe in Naples

Italy.

Schwarzkopf, H. Gen, USA

 Norman

Retired in grade, 31 Augus

1991.

Stanfill, Ron Lt Col, USAF Promoted to colonel; now a

wing vice-commander, An

dersen AFB, Guam.

Warden, John Col, USAF Retained in the grade o

colonel; now commandant o

Air Command and Staff Col

lege, Maxwell AFB, Alabama.

Wilson, Steve Lt Col, USAF Promoted to colonel; drowned

while serving at Kadena AB

Japan, 5 June 1993.

138
Glossary

AB air base

ABM antiballistic missile

ACC Air Combat Command

ACE airlift control element

AFB Air Force base

AFIA Air Force Intelligence Agency

AMC Air Mobility Command

AOR area of responsibility

APC armored personnel carrier

ATO air tasking order

ATTG automated tactical target graphics

AU Air University

BDU battle-dress uniform

C2 command and control

CAP combat air patrol

CENTAF US Air Forces, Central Command

CENTCOM United States Central Command

CHOP change of operational procedures

CIA Central Intelligence Agency

CINC commander in chief

CINCCENT commander in chief, US Central Command

CINCLANT commander in chief, US Atlantic Command

CJCS chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff

DACT dissimilar air combat tactics

DIA Defense Intelligence Agency

ECM electronic countermeasures

HQ headquarters

ICBM intercontinental ballistic missile

J-3 Operations Directorate

J-4 Logistics Directorate

J-5 Strategic Plans and Policy Directorate

JCS Joint Chiefs of Staff

JOC joint operations center

LIMDIS limited distribution

MAC Military Airlift Command

NBC nuclear, biological, and chemical

NCA national command authorities

139
NSA National Security Agency

OPLAN operational plan

PGM precision guided munition

PSYOPS psychological operations

RSAF Royal Saudi Air Force

SAC Strategic Air Command

SAM surface-to-air missile

SAR special access required

SEAD suppression of enemy air defenses

SECDEF secretary of defense

TAC Tactical Air Command

TACC tactical air control center

TDY temporary duty

TLAM Tomahawk land attack missile

TPFDD time-phased force deployment data

TPFDL time-phased force and deployment list

USAF United States Air Force

USMTM US Military Training Mission

VOQ visiting officers’ quarters

140
Index

A-10: 7, 55

AC-130: 107–8

Adams, Jimmie: 1, 30–31, 47, 49,

51, 57, 77–82, 84–85, 95, 121,

129, 135

Aiming points: 36, 90, 97

Air Campaign, The: Planning for

Combat: 30, 108

Air Combat Command (ACC): 24

Air component commander: 110

Aircraft interrogation systems: 107

Air Force

chief of staff: 23, 30, 50, 106

Command Center: 21, 89

Doctrine Division: 17, 22

Fighter Weapons School: 22

Intelligence Agency (AFIA): 76,

101

Plans and Operations Directorate: 16, 30, 39

Reserve: 34

Strategy Division: 17

think tank: 16

Air/land

battle plan: 24

operations: 24

Airlift: 16, 31

Airlift control element (ACE): 89

Air Mobility Command (AMC): 89

Air power: 7, 11, 17–18, 20, 29, 40,

42–43, 48–49, 54, 58, 73, 80,

110, 117, 120, 125, 133–34

Airspace control: 107

Air Staff: 15–16, 27–28, 30, 32–33,

39, 47, 57–58, 84, 90–92

Air superiority: 90, 105, 109, 128

Air tasking order (ATO): 82, 98,

126

Air University (AU): 36, 48

Ajaji, Iraq: 104

Al Basrah, Iraq: 104

Alexander, Robert M. (“Minter”):

18–19, 24–29, 31–36, 39, 41,

45, 47–53, 57–59, 71–73, 75

78–81, 98–99, 135

Amphibious assault: 10

Andrews AFB, Maryland: 9, 12–13

50–51, 96–97, 100, 113–14, 121

Antiballistic missile (ABM): 11

Arab culture/“face”: 51

Area of responsibility (AOR): 19

Attack

aircraft: 104–5

routes: 114

Automated tactical target graphic

(ATTG): 76

Autry, Dale: 19, 135

Az Yubayr, Iraq: 104

B-2: 31

B-52: 26, 30, 55, 104, 127

Baghdad, Iraq: 56, 73, 104–5, 116

124

Baker, James: 11–12

Bandar, Prince: 11

Baptiste, Sam: 90–91, 93, 116, 135

Beddown: 7, 11, 34, 45, 90

Bekaa Valley, Lebanon: 71

Belenko, Victor: 16

Bettinger, Alex: 39–40, 43, 45, 135

Bigelow, Dick: 39–40, 45, 75, 96

98–99, 135

Blackburn, Jim: 33, 76, 101, 103–4

135

Black Hawk helicopter: 9

Bolling AFB, Washington, D.C.: 32

76, 78–80, 84

Bomber aircraft: 11, 24, 35, 55

Bookhardt, Zunelle (“Z”): 43

Boyd, Charles G.: 48–49, 135

Briefings, Instant Thunder: 30–31

34, 36, 49–53, 55–56, 58–59

71, 74–75, 81, 85, 90, 92

97–101, 103–5, 108, 110

114–16, 120–23, 125, 129–30

141
Bristow, Rich: 39–40, 44–45,

75–77, 82–83, 96–103, 135

Bubiyan Island, Kuwait: 2

Bush, George: 5, 11, 29, 95–96

Butler, Lee: 51–52, 71, 73–74, 78,

80, 135

C-5: 86–89

C-21: 9, 13

C-21A: 89

Cabinet: 10–11

Campaign Plans and Applications

Organizations: 35

Camp David: 9–10, 12

Carns, Mike: 71, 79–80, 136

Caruana, Pat: 115

Casualties

civilian: 54, 103

military: 108

CENTAF Rear: 34

Center for Strategic and International Studies: 35

Centers of gravity: 17–18, 72

Central Intelligence Agency (CIA):

10, 33, 93

Chain, John (“Jack”): 25, 27, 35,

136

Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of

Staff (CJCS): 56–57, 59, 71–73,

75, 78–79, 81–83, 95, 124, 127

Change of operational procedures

(CHOP): 26

Chaos theory: 18

Checkmate Directorate: 16, 18–22,

24–26, 28–30, 33–36, 53, 55,

71, 75–77, 80, 85–86, 96–100,

116, 133–34

Chemical warfare: 11, 24, 56, 115

Cheney, Dick: 1, 9–10, 12–13, 95

Clapper, James R., Jr.: 31–34, 36,

136

Coalition: 52, 103, 108, 122, 124,

134

Cohen, Eliot: 36

Cold war: 16

Collateral damage: 54

Combat

air patrol (CAP): 105

employment: 16

Command and control (C2

): 4–5

54, 123, 127

Commander in chief (CINC): 1–2

5–7, 19, 23–24, 47, 53, 56

74–75, 80–83, 96–97, 101

103–10, 121, 126

Central Command (CINCCENT

74

United States Atlantic Comman

(CINCLANT): 26

Communications: 19, 34, 39, 49, 54

Concept of operations: 15, 54, 105

Congress: 2

Contingencies: 4, 16, 20

Counterair: 32

Crigger, Jim: 3, 90, 115–17, 122

124, 136

D day: 116–17

Deception plan: 52, 109, 114

Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA)

1, 33, 93

Defensive plan: 10, 90, 116–17

125–27

Deployment: 5–7, 15, 20–21, 32

34–35, 39, 55, 58, 95, 106, 109

121, 125

Deptula, Dave: 21–22, 28, 35

85–86, 92, 97, 113–21, 128–29

133–34, 136

Desert: 54, 85, 114, 127

Dhahran, Saudi Arabia: 88

Dissimilar air combat tactic

(DACT): 3

Doctrine, aerospace/Air Force: 22

48, 108, 117

Douhet, [Giulio]: 40

Dover AFB, Delaware: 86, 89

Dugan, Mike: 16, 23, 26–27, 30

35, 50–51, 81, 106, 110, 136

Dunn, Mike: 15–16

Eckberg, Jim: 21

142
Eckberg, Larry: 51

XVIII Airborne Corps: 10

82d Airborne: 87, 89

El Dorado Canyon: 125–26

Electronic countermeasures (ECM):

41

Electronic warfare: 98, 115, 117

Ervin, Marvin S.: 84, 89

Execution phase, Instant Thunder:

55, 57, 74, 76–77, 97, 104–6,

110, 119, 124–26

F-4: 117

F-15: 7, 22, 39, 105, 115

F-15C/D: 3, 90–91

F-16: 7, 12

F-16C: 3

F-111: 55, 113, 130

F-111D/F: 116

F-117: 41, 55

Fahd, King: 12

Fielded military forces: 17, 55

Fighter

aircraft: 7, 11, 24, 42, 55, 85,

104–5, 113, 121

Mafia: 21, 79

pilots: 16, 19, 25, 40, 76, 90,

93, 122, 133

1st Tactical Fighter Wing: 3, 39

Five-ring theory of warfare: 17, 19,

28, 31, 49, 54

Fort Myer, Virginia: 9

Fragmentary orders: 82

Global war: 102

Glosson, Buster C.: 133–34, 136

Goldwater-Nichols Department of

Defense Reorganization Act: 19

Gray, Colin: 36

Griffith, Tom: 26, 39–45, 48, 77,

96–99

Ground

campaign: 10–11, 42, 48, 73, 82

support: 72

Gulf War: 11, 17

Hanscom AFB, Massachusetts: 23

50

Harvey, Ben: 19, 35, 51, 55, 113

115, 119, 128, 130, 133, 136

Hawkins, Doug: 39–40, 45, 75, 96

98, 136

Hellenikon AB, Greece: 114

Henry, Larry: 41, 115, 117–18

122, 128–29, 137

Horner, Charles A. (“Chuck”): 3–4

6–13, 23, 25–26, 31–34, 39–41

43, 79–80, 82–85, 89–93, 96

110, 114–30, 133–34, 137

Hostages: 56–57, 125

Hubbard, Bill: 3

Hussein, Saddam: 1–2, 4, 19, 29

35, 41–42, 44, 52, 54–55, 72

74, 81, 90, 92, 95, 98–99, 103

105, 107, 123, 125–26

Indiscriminate bombing: 40

Inside-out warfare: 17–19

Instant Thunder: 28–29, 39–45

47–58, 71–75, 78, 80, 82–83

85–86, 90–91, 93, 95–97

99–102, 104–6, 108–10, 114

116–20, 122, 124–29, 133–34

Intelligence, military: 2–3, 10

31–33, 42, 76, 92–93, 101

103–4, 116–17, 119, 123, 126

133

Intercontinental ballistic missile

(ICBM): 24

Interdiction: 32

Internal Look: 4

Invasion of Kuwait: 10–11, 15, 77

96, 100, 107

Iran: 57

Iraq: 1, 9–11, 19–20, 27, 39

41–42, 44–45, 52, 54–55, 72

75, 81, 102, 104, 107, 118

122–23, 125–26

Iraqi

aircraft: 105, 122

air defenses: 54–55, 104, 108–9

122

143
airfields: 123

armor: 55, 74, 127

armored personnel carriers

(APC): 74

army: 54, 72, 82, 92, 110, 116

command centers: 104

economy: 105

electricity: 20, 54, 104

ground forces: 72, 82, 109, 128

ground offensive: 9

industry: 19

infrastructure: 17, 35, 54

launch centers: 55

leadership: 17–19, 54, 56,

71–72, 127

nuclear reactor: 41, 44

oil: 20, 29, 54, 104

palace bunker: 56

ports: 123

presidential palace: 104

production: 17, 54

radar sites: 55

railroads: 54, 123

resupply lines: 9, 11

storage and production: 42

supplies: 54

tanks: 73–74, 82, 117, 120, 128

targets: 18, 24–26, 28, 31–32,

35–36, 41, 44, 48–49, 54–55,

73, 76, 81, 86, 90, 92, 98, 101,

103–4, 107, 114, 116–18, 124–25,

127, 133–34

water: 20

Israel: 41, 56

J-3: 4–5, 11, 53, 79–80

J-4: 11

J-5: 71

Jedda, Saudi Arabia: 13

Jeremiah, David: 71, 73, 137

Johnston, Bob: 5–6, 109, 137

Joint Chiefs of Staff (JCS): 1, 15,

20–21, 51–52, 71, 80, 95,

99–100, 102, 109

Jointness: 28, 44, 52, 73, 75,

79–80, 108

Joint operations center (JOC): 6, 8

Joint Staff: 15, 20, 52, 71, 79

KC-10: 7

KC-135: 7

Kelly, Tom: 71, 73, 79–80, 137

Kiraly, Mike: 15, 19–20

Kuwait: 1–2, 4, 10, 15, 29, 39–40

42, 44–45, 52, 54–55, 57, 72

75, 82, 92, 108, 116–18, 125

Langley AFB, Virginia: 3, 34, 39

41, 43, 47, 50, 75, 77, 81, 96

99–100

Lauberbach: 115

Leonardo, John: 115, 123–24, 137

Libya: 125–26

Linebacker: 71

Logistics: 20, 45, 57, 74, 82, 98

105, 108

Loh, John M. (“Mike”): 23–29

31–32, 34–36, 49–51, 71, 73–75

78–81, 85, 92, 95, 137

Luttwak, Ed: 35–36

MacArthur, [Douglas]: 58

MacDill AFB, Florida: 1, 3–4, 6, 12

49–52, 58, 71, 100–101, 103

Maneuver warfare: 11, 40

Maxwell AFB, Alabama: 36, 48

May, Charles A.: 1–2, 30–31, 47

49, 51, 71, 77–78, 137

McBroom, John: 3

Mean impact points: 98

Meier, Jim: 80, 82, 95, 99–103

106, 109–10, 137

Middle East: 7, 11, 23, 45

MiG-25: 16

Military Airlift Command (MAC): 89

Military objectives: 29, 53

Missiles: 55

Moltke, Helmuth von: 105

Moore, Burt: 4–8, 11, 52–53

55–58, 103, 106, 109, 137

Munitions: 21, 34, 54, 74, 86

97–98, 107

144
National

command authorities (NCA): 16

objectives: 28

paralysis: 103, 108

Security Agency (NSA): 33

Night strike: 124

Ninth Air Force: 3, 20, 25, 32–34,

97, 99–100, 116

Nuclear, biological, and chemical

(NBC): 42, 54

Nuclear targeting: 92

Oil, Saudi: 116

Olsen, Tom: 90–91, 115–19, 121–22,

137

Operation

Desert Shield/Storm: 97, 133

plan (OPLAN): 3, 6, 20, 114, 125

Operations, military: 3, 19, 33, 58,

73–74, 79, 105–6, 115–16,

119–20, 122, 125, 133

Patrick AFB, Florida: 77–78

Patriot missile: 11

Patton, [George]: 58

Pentagon: 1, 9, 13, 15–16, 19–20,

22, 25, 31, 33–34, 39, 45, 47,

49, 71, 75, 77–80, 82, 84, 86,

89–90, 95, 98–99, 101, 113, 120

Persian

Gulf: 13, 21, 33, 95, 107

Gulf battle group: 118

Peters, Tom: 18

Planners, military: 6, 8, 25–27, 34,

42–43, 45, 51, 53, 55–56, 58,

71, 74, 79, 98–99, 113, 115,

118, 123, 134

Planning, military (esp. Instant

Thunder): 8, 13, 16, 25, 28–29,

33, 35–36, 42, 47, 56–58,

75–76, 78, 80, 84, 96–97, 106,

108, 116–18, 125–28, 133–34

Population, civilian: 17–18, 54

Powell, Colin: 1, 9, 11, 13, 23, 25,

35, 59, 71–74, 80–82, 95, 102,

106, 121, 137

Precision guided munitions (PGM)

21, 36

Preemptive attack: 102

Presidential objectives: 29, 53

President [of the United States]: 2, 4

9–13, 42, 56, 73, 93, 95–96, 102

Press, American: 44

Psychological operations (PSYOPS

54, 105

Public, American: 44–45

Purple

suiters: 20

water fountain: 16, 80

Qadhafi, Muammar: 125

Ramstein AB, Germany: 87

Rand Corporation: 36

RC-135: 113

Reconnaissance: 16, 114

Red Sea task force: 118

Regional conflicts: 102

Republican Guard: 72

Reserve forces: 20

Rice, Donald B.: 21–22, 28

Rider, Bill: 13

Riyadh, Saudi Arabia: 39, 41, 43

75, 85–86, 89, 107, 110, 113–16

118–21, 123, 133–34

Rogers, Gen Buck: 53, 55–58, 108–9

Rogers, Maj Buck: 114, 137

Role of Airpower in the Iran-Ira

War, The: 113

Rolling Thunder: 29

Route packages: 117, 124

Royal Saudi Air Force (RSAF): 89

91, 93, 115, 119–21, 133

Run-in lines: 97–98

Russ, Robert D.: 23, 25–27, 34–35

39–45, 49–51, 75–77, 81, 100

102, 117, 138

Ryan, Michael (“Mike”): 34, 41, 45

47–49, 96–97, 99, 138

Saudi Arabia: 4, 9, 11–13, 20

39–40, 42, 55–56, 75, 81, 89–90

145
92, 97, 100, 106–7, 109, 114,

116–17, 119, 125, 127, 133

Schlieffen

Alfred von: 105

Plan: 105–6

Schwarzkopf, H. Norman: 1–13,

23–28, 31–32, 35–36, 47, 49–59,

71, 74, 79, 81, 90, 92, 97–98,

101, 103–10, 119, 121, 125, 138

Scud missiles: 11, 24, 107–8

Sea power: 20, 54

2d Armored Division: 125

Secretary

of the Air Force: 21

of defense (SECDEF): 1, 9–10,

12, 74

of state: 11–12

Selective bombing: 40

Sewell, Tom: 6

Shaw AFB, South Carolina: 2–4,

12–13, 33–34, 97

Sorties: 124

Southwest Asia: 18

Soviet Union: 16

Special

access required (SAR): 86

operations: 98, 114

Stanfill, Ron: 51, 81, 113–16,

118–19, 121, 125, 128, 130,

133, 138

State Department: 121

Strategic

air campaign: 10–11, 17, 22,

24–25, 27–28, 31–32, 34, 41,

45, 53, 55, 71, 73–75, 79,

81–82, 90–92, 96, 98, 103–4,

120, 128, 133–34

Air Command (SAC): 19, 24, 27,

35–36, 96, 98

objectives: 48

Strike package configuration: 41

Suppression of enemy air defenses

(SEAD): 41, 105, 108–9

Surface-to-air missiles (SAM): 109

Surface-to-surface missiles: 107

Suter, Moody: 16

System specialists: 35

TAC alternative plan: 40, 42–45

48, 102

Tactical

Air Command (TAC): 24–25

34–36, 39, 43, 47–51, 57, 75–77

81, 96–102, 117

air control center (TACC): 97

119

Tactical/strategic warfare: 124

134

Tanker aircraft: 7, 16, 24, 35, 74

82, 107

Tank (secure area): 1, 95

Tel Aviv, Israel: 107

Tenth Air Force: 34

Third Army: 11

36th Tactical Fighter Wing: 113

Thriving on Chaos: Handbook for a

Management Revolution: 18

Tiger team: 16, 19

Time-phased force deployment

data (TPFDD): 5

list (TPFDL): 20

Timing: 115

Tomahawk land attack missil

(TLAM): 97, 104, 123–24

Turkey: 57, 106

United Nations Security Council

109

United States: 11, 15–16, 29

41–42, 44–45, 54, 92, 110

121–22, 133

US

aircraft: 8, 11, 20–21, 34, 52

55, 90, 106, 108, 117–18, 127

Air Force: 1–2, 15–16, 20

23–24, 27–28, 31, 34, 39–40

43–44, 48–49, 52, 56, 71

74–75, 79–81, 84, 87, 115

117–18, 121

Air Forces, Central Comman

(CENTAF): 6, 9, 34, 36, 39, 56

90–92, 114–22, 124–25, 129, 133

146
Air Force Wargaming Center: 48

Army: 8–9, 20, 24, 40–41, 71,

87, 110, 125

Central Command (CENTCOM):

1–5, 10–11, 23–25, 27–28, 35,

50, 52–54, 56–57, 80, 90–91,

103, 108, 117, 121, 125, 133

ground forces: 20, 40–41, 54,

127

Marine Corps: 5, 10, 20, 109,

117–18

Military Training Mission

(USMTM): 43

Navy: 2, 6, 20, 97, 104, 117,

123–24

USS LaSalle: 133

VC-135: 13

Vietnam: 29, 41–42, 44, 52, 57, 71,

79, 117, 122, 124

Warden, John A., III: 15–22, 24,

26–31, 33–36, 40, 44–45, 47–59,

71–83, 85–86, 92, 96–110,

113–16, 118–30, 133–34, 138

War-fighting strategy: 22

War plans: 4–5, 9, 11, 15

Washington, D.C.: 1, 4–5, 9–10

13, 15–16, 22, 25–26, 32, 35

41, 44–45, 47, 49, 58, 71

77–78, 80, 83–84, 86, 93

95–96, 98, 100, 109–10, 114

122–23, 126, 129, 133

Weapons

conventional: 31, 97–98, 104

116–18, 127

nuclear: 24

Webster, William: 10

White House: 53

Wild Weasels: 7

Williams, Clint: 6

Wilson, Steve (“Foose”): 21, 79

83–93, 116, 119–20, 129, 138

World War

II: 72–73

III: 45

Yeosock, John: 11, 13

147