The

Ash Warriors

C. R. Anderegg
The 

Ash Warriors

C. R. Anderegg

Office of PACAF History

Hickam Air Force Base, Hawaii

2000
C. R. Anderegg is a retired USAF fighter pilot. 

He lives in Northern Virginia with his wife, Jean. 

The Ash Warriors is his first book.

Printed in Hawaii by Valenti Print Group

ii
iii

In November 1991 the American flag was lowered for the last time at Clark Air Base in the Philippines.

This act brought to an end American military presence in the Philippines that extended back over 90 years. It

also represented the final act in a drama that began with the initial rumblings in April of that year of the Mount

Pinatubo volcano, located about nine miles to the east of Clark. 

The following pages tell the remarkable story of the men and women of the Clark community and their

ordeal in planning for and carrying out their evacuation from Clark in face of the impending volcanic activity.

It documents the actions of those who remained on the base during the series of Mount Pinatubo’s eruptions,

and the packing out of the base during the subsequent months. This is the story of the “Ash Warriors,” those

Air Force men and women who carried out their mission in the face of an incredible series of natural disasters,

including volcanic eruption, flood, typhoons, and earthquakes, all of which plagued Clark and the surrounding

areas during June and July 1991.

The author of The Ash Warriors knew the situation first hand. Col Dick Anderegg was the vice commander of the 3rd Tactical Fighter Wing when the volcano erupted, and he was at Clark throughout the evacuation and standing down of the base. He brought his own personal experience to bear in writing this story. He

also conducted extensive research in the archives of the Pacific Air Forces and Thirteenth Air Force, utilized

scores of interviews of those who witnessed and participated in the events, and visited Clark in 1998 to see in

person how the installation had changed in the eight years since the Americans left.

This story is one of courage, resourcefulness, and dedication to duty on the part of Air Force men and

women called upon to respond to one of the great natural disasters of the Twentieth Century. As the following

pages reveal, the Ash Warriors were up to the challenge in every respect. 

PATRICK K. GAMBLE, General, USAF

Commander 

Pacific Air Forces

Foreword
iv
v

After years of encouragement from family and friends to write this book, I discussed it with Richard P.

Hallion, the Air Force Historian in March of 1998. He was enthusiastic that the story be told. He was well

aware of the accomplishments of the Ash Warriors and knew that their story would be interesting to military

and civilian readers alike. During our discussions, I told him what the eruptions looked like from a close-up

view. When I finished the story, he said, “Tell it just like that. Don’t change a thing.” 

If the great historian, Stephen Ambrose, is correct, history is the story of those who are leaders and those

who are followers. I have tried to make this book just that, the story of the Ash Warriors who faced a killer volcano on the other side of the world. Some were leaders and some were followers, but they all did their duty in

the face of terrible conditions and frightening uncertainty.

I served as 3d Tactical Fighter Wing vice commander from July 1, 1990 to August 8, 1991, so many of the

observations in this book are from a personal perspective. Where statements of fact or assumption are not attributed to another source, the reader may assume I am speaking from personal experience. Of course, I am solely

responsible for any errors of commission or omission. Research for the book was conducted in several areas. I

had been collecting surveys from Ash Warriors for several years. Although the surveys were not particularly

useful for the book, the network that resulted from the surveys proved invaluable. During April to August 1991,

I kept a small notebook from which many events were recalled for the book. After the eruptions, I transcribed

the notes onto the only operational computer I could find, and subsequently printed them out as a record of

thoughts and events during the crisis. 

The PACAF Command Historian’s Office at Hickam Air Force Base, Hawaii, provided a wealth of information. They possess about 20 four-inch binders of information about Clark and its closure. The binders contain all situation reports (SITREPS) from both the 3 TFW and JTF-Fiery Vigil as well as the American Embassy

in Manila. Without the friendly assistance of Al Miller and Anne Bazzell, I never could have waded through the

chaff to find the wheat. After leaving the PACAF office I journeyed to Guam, the present site of Thirteenth Air

Force where Deryl Danner helped me immensely by setting up some interviews and leading me through his

files. During my visit to Clark, Miss Cefey Yepez set up my whole visit there, and I am deeply indebted to her

for showing me the “new” Clark. Thanks to Skip Vanorne and Jim Goodman for providing many personal photographs.

Perhaps the richest vein I mined were personal interviews I conducted, of which there were nearly 100.

Everyone I approached wanted to tell me his or her story, and it did not take me long to realize that the interview was a catharsis. People would talk for hours about what they had seen and done. Frequently there were

tears and deep emotions bared to the tape recorder. To all those who submitted to my questioning I offer my

deepest thanks. You are the Ash Warriors and I did my best to show the world your incredible accomplishment.

Many helped me research and find other Ash Warriors. Col Mike (Air) Jordan was my main source of personnel locators. He and his friends could find anyone, and they frequently spent hours looking for people who

had “disappeared.” From the US Geological Survey, Chris Newhall and Rick Hoblitt were invaluable. They provided valuable technical advice where I had missed some point in Volcanology 101. No author produces a book

without great editors and mine were Pati Wilson and Tim Keck from the PACAF Command Historian’s Office.

I know there were many moments when Pati repeated the mantra, “patience is a virtue, patience is a virtue”

while she tried to repair an old fighter pilot’s butchery of English. Additional thanks go to my friends Bob Tone

and Helen Puckett who read every word of the manuscript and offered suggestions and corrections. 

My last and biggest thanks goes to Jean, my wife, who, while struggling with a serious illness, not only

found the time to encourage me, but also to teach all around her the true meanings of courage and love.

Preface
vi
Foreword ................................................................................................................................................................iii

Preface ......................................................................................................................................................................v

List of Illustrations..................................................................................................................................................ix

Chapter 1: Pacific Jewel .........................................................................................................................................1

Chapter 2: Volcano? What Volcano? .....................................................................................................................9

Chapter 3: Drum Watch .......................................................................................................................................21

Chapter 4: Frogs in a Cooking Pot .......................................................................................................................33

Chapter 5: Black Saturday ...................................................................................................................................43

Chapter 6: Nuclear Winter ...................................................................................................................................53

Chapter 7: The Evacuees ......................................................................................................................................65

Chapter 8: Packing Out ........................................................................................................................................79

Chapter 9: Turn Out the Lights ...........................................................................................................................95

Chapter 10: A Disaster is a Disaster ..................................................................................................................101

Afterword: Clark, 1998 ......................................................................................................................................107

Appendix 1: Clark Air Base Closure Report .....................................................................................................109

Appendix 2: Volcano Evacuation Plan Pamphlet ............................................................................................121

Appendix 3: Mission Essential List as of 20 July 1991 ....................................................................................125

Glossary ...............................................................................................................................................................141

Bibliographic Notes .............................................................................................................................................145

Contents

vii
viii
ix

List of Illustrations

Tables

Table 2-1. Clark Air Base Volcano Warning System ..................................................................................16

Table 3-1. Volcano Checklist ......................................................................................................................25

Table 3-2. Steps for Leaving Quarters ........................................................................................................25

Maps

Clark Air Base..................................................................................................................................................2

Central Luzon................................................................................................................................................18

Photographs

A DeHavilland D-4..........................................................................................................................................1

Maj Harold M. Clark ......................................................................................................................................2

Chambers Hall, Before the Eruptions ............................................................................................................3

Parade Field from 3d Support Group Headquarters Building......................................................................3

Base Operations Building ..............................................................................................................................4

Jeepneys ..........................................................................................................................................................4

Fort Stotsenburg Gatepost 1998 ....................................................................................................................5

3d Wing F-4 ....................................................................................................................................................6

Strikers at the Main Gate ................................................................................................................................7

Steam Rising From Mount Pinatubo ..............................................................................................................9

Dr. Christopher Newhall ..............................................................................................................................10

Seismograph ..................................................................................................................................................11

Volcanic Scientist on Mount Pinatubo ........................................................................................................12

Steam From Northwest Flank of Mount Pinatubo ......................................................................................14

Dick Anderegg ..............................................................................................................................................15

The Eruption Became More Evident............................................................................................................21

Silver Wings Community Recreation Center ..............................................................................................23

F-4 In Flight ..................................................................................................................................................24

Main Gate of Clark, Before the Eruptions ....................................................................................................26

Base Hospital, Before the Eruptions ............................................................................................................26

Cars On Runway............................................................................................................................................29

Subic Bay Swimming Pool ..........................................................................................................................30

Eruption of Mount Pinatubo ........................................................................................................................33

Clark Officers' Club ......................................................................................................................................34

Power Lines ..................................................................................................................................................36

Erection of Tent City ....................................................................................................................................38

Cassandra's Rings ..........................................................................................................................................38

Eruption, June 15, 1991 ................................................................................................................................43

Lateral Blast ..................................................................................................................................................45

Volcanic Ash..................................................................................................................................................46

Typhoon Rain ................................................................................................................................................47

Hot Lahar ......................................................................................................................................................47

Nuclear Winter..............................................................................................................................................49

Lahars Across Road to Hill Housing ............................................................................................................49

Convoy Returning to Clark ..........................................................................................................................53

Buildings........................................................................................................................................................54

Main Gate, After the Eruptions ....................................................................................................................54

Mactan Housing Project, After the Eruptions ..............................................................................................55

Buildings Collapased Under Weight of Wet Ash ........................................................................................56

Airmen Climb Over Fallen Trees ................................................................................................................57

Clearing Roofs ..............................................................................................................................................58

Erosion From Rushing Water........................................................................................................................59

Crow Valley, Before and After......................................................................................................................60
x

Chambers Hall, After the Eruptions ............................................................................................................61

Base Supply Damaged By Volcano and Typhoon........................................................................................62

Goodbye Dad ................................................................................................................................................65

Weary Travelers ............................................................................................................................................66

Evacuees Try to Rest ....................................................................................................................................68

Young Evacuee ..............................................................................................................................................69

Dependent Child and Security Police Dog ..................................................................................................70

People and Their Pets ..................................................................................................................................71

Personnel Departing Carrier ........................................................................................................................72

Pets in Holding Area on Guam ....................................................................................................................74

Evacuees Board Ship ....................................................................................................................................76

Aerial View of Clark Air Base Runways....................................................................................Color Section

3d Combat Support Group Headquarters ..................................................................................Color Section

View From Control Tower..........................................................................................................Color Section

Clark Air Base Control Tower....................................................................................................Color Section

Aerial View of the Impending Eruption....................................................................................Color Section

The Wait is Over ........................................................................................................................Color Section

Fiery Warning ............................................................................................................................Color Section

Acacia Trees, Before ..................................................................................................................Color Section

Acacia Trees, After......................................................................................................................Color Section

The Crater 1998 ..........................................................................................................................Color Section

The Ash Decends........................................................................................................................Color Section

Abacan Walking Bridge ..............................................................................................................Color Section

Ash Driven by the Typhoon ......................................................................................................Color Section

Officers' Club Parking Lot ..........................................................................................................Color Section

Chamber's Hall 1998 ..................................................................................................................Color Section

A Frightened Child Receives Comfort ......................................................................................Color Section

Fort Stotsenburg Posts, ca. 1930 ..............................................................................................Color Section

Fort Stotsenburg Posts, 1998......................................................................................................Color Section

Shoveling Ash ..............................................................................................................................................79

Packing Households Goods ..........................................................................................................................81

Facility Destruction ......................................................................................................................................82

One of Many Buildings to be Emptied ........................................................................................................82

One of Many Houses to be Emptied ............................................................................................................83

Aerial Port Terminal 1998 ............................................................................................................................84

Blowing Ash ..................................................................................................................................................85

Shovel First, Then Pack ..............................................................................................................................86

Working in the Dark......................................................................................................................................87

Base Exchange Parking Lot, After a Lahar ..................................................................................................88

Rest and Relaxation at the Base Pool ..........................................................................................................90

US Airmen Raised the Flag Over Clark for the Last Time ..........................................................................95

Visiting Dignitary at Flag Ceremony ............................................................................................................98

Subic Bay Also Suffered Ashfall and Typhoon Rain ................................................................................101

Navy Medics Attended the Evacuees ........................................................................................................102

Helpers at Kadena AB ................................................................................................................................103

Thirteenth Air Force Headquarters ............................................................................................................107

Air Force Members Packed Property for Removal ....................................................................................109

Clark Residents Waited to Evacuate ..........................................................................................................121

Ash Warriors Received Briefings................................................................................................................125

Message Boards at Travis AFB for Evacuees ............................................................................................141

Base Hospital After the Eruptions..............................................................................................................145

List of Illustrations
As our world evolved, violent volcanic eruptions formed mountain chains across our

planet’s face. Throughout pre-historic millennia, as the earth’s crust cooled, these enormous

mountain ranges settled then erupted again in long cycles of explosion and repose. Many of

the world’s great mountain ranges were wholly or in part the result of such volcanic activity.

During the twentieth century, the most violent of these has been along the infamous “Ring of

Fire” that surrounds the Pacific Ocean. This string of mountains runs northward through

South America; up through the Cascades; across Alaska; westward into Asia; south through

Japan and the Philippines; and ends its journey in the islands of Indonesia. Many mountains

in this vast string are active volcanoes that sometimes erupt with spectacular results. Mount

Saint Helens, for example, caught the world’s eye when it violently exploded in 1980.

In April 1991, Clark Air Base, Republic of the Philippines, was the largest United States

Air Force (USAF) base outside the continental United States. The base sprawled over nearly

10,000 acres1 with its western end nestled in the lush, gently rolling foothills of the Zambales

Mountains in western Luzon. Only nine miles west of Clark stood Mount Pinatubo, a small

mountain by Ring of Fire standards. Although it stood 5,700 feet above sea level, it barely

peeked above neighboring Zambales hills. When viewed from Clark Air Base, Pinatubo

seemed insignificant–just another peak in the lush jungle hills. It was a volcano, but it had

not erupted for 500 years.2

Over 20,000 Americans lived on or near Clark. Most lived on the base, but there were

several hundred families living off the base, as well as nearly 4,000 military retirees and their

families throughout the surrounding towns. During the Vietnam War, many thousands of

USAF members traveled through Clark. Everyone who saw the base, especially those who

lived there, marveled at its tropical beauty. There had been many to admire it; the US military had been there for over 90 years.

Base History

During the Spanish-American War in 1898, US cavalry forces operating in central Luzon

came across a broad alluvial plain at the foothills of the Zambales Mountains that had good

grass for their horses. Throughout their campaign, the Americans were often frustrated at their

inability to find suitable fodder for the animals. Thick, strange grass covered most areas of the

island. The horses became ill from the unusual grass, and many died. The lush area between

the Abacan and Sacobia Rivers, though, had good grass, and the cavalry troops set up a permanent encampment near the barrio Sapang Bato.3

During the latter part of 1902, after the encampment had been occupied for nearly a year,

the initial boundaries were surveyed and established. On September 1, 1903, an area consisting of 7,669 acres was named Fort Stotsenburg honoring Col John M. Stotsenburg of the 1st

Nebraska Volunteers. The colonel had been killed on April 23, 1899, while leading his regiment in action near Quinque, Bulacan, Luzon.

Five years later, President Theodore Roosevelt published an executive order extending

the boundaries of the reservation to include a total of 156,204 acres. The first structures were

1

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Chapter 1 PACIFIC JEWEL

A DeHavilland D-4 was the first

aircraft deployed to Clark Field

in 1919.
nipa and bamboo barracks. Because of seasonal

heavy rains, wooden frame buildings with corrugated sheet roofs soon replaced these. Officer

quarters were built in this style in 1906 and are

still in use. By 1913, the first concrete structures

had been completed.

M i l i t a ry personnel at Fort Stotsenburg

consisted primarily of cavalry regiments until

1919, when an eastern portion of the fort was

designated for construction of flight line facilities. The 3rd Aero Squadron of the Army Air

Service, including Lt Ira C. Eaker,

* constructed a half-mile dirt ru n w a y, eight

hangars, and associated structures.

That same year, the facility was

named Clark Field after Maj

Harold M. Clark, an early aviator killed in a seaplane crash at

M i r a f l o res Locks, Panama

Canal Zone.

On December 8, 1941,

Clark Field was devastated

by a Japanese surprise air

attack. Within 15 days, Fort

Stotsenburg and Clark Field

were evacuated in the face of

overwhelming enemy strength

sweeping Luzon from both

north and south. The Japanese

occupied the installation until

1945, operating from as many as five

runways on the base.

American and Philippine forces, commanded by General Douglas MacArt h u r,

reclaimed Clark Field during the battle for

Luzon in 1945.† Soon after, the base became the

home of Thirteenth Air Force, the “Jungle Air

Force.” The next three years saw an extensive

buildup as the bombed-out stru c t u res were

repaired and new facilities were built. The projects included a runway, hangars, family homes,

barracks, power plant, roads, and a perimeter

fence.

Following the Second World War, a 1947

military basing agreement granted the United

States basing rights rent-free for 99 years. Two

years later, Fort Stotsenburg and Clark combined

to form Clark Air Base.4

The early 1950s saw Clark units move

north to assist in the Korean War. A decade later,

a new buildup of facilities and personnel at

Clark followed the start of combat in Vietnam.

Chambers Hall, a bachelor officer housing facility, was built a few years later. Chambers, a highrise which featured more than 300 rooms, barber

shop, restaurant, and other facilities quickly

became a prominent landmark. Virtually every

new arrival spent time there until housing was

available, and thousands of officers on temporary duty (TDY) called it a home-away-fromhome.

Clark’s more recent history included participation in Project Homecoming (the release

of prisoners of war from North Vietnam)

and Operation Babylift/New Life, the

evacuation of orphans and civilians from Vietnam. Areas around

C l a r k ’s football field, the

Bamboo Bowl, became a tent

city to house more than

10,000 refugees.

On January 7, 1979,

the Clark reservation became

a Philippine base with the

signing of amendments to

the Philippine Bases

A g reement between the

United States and the

Republic of the Philippines.

The base area in which US operations were conducted became a

United States facility with a base

controlled by the Armed Forces of the

Philippines (Clark Air Base Command, or

CABCOM) and headed by a Philippine base

commander.

Base Layout 

Generally, Clark was the shape of a broad

triangle laying on its side with the apex pointing

west toward Pinatubo. From apex to base, the

triangle was over 6 miles wide. Its western end,

the apex of the triangle, nestled in the gently

rolling foothills of the Zambales Mountains

whose lush jungles and rice paddy terraces provided a picturesque backdrop. The Mactan mil2

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

* Eaker became a famous proponent of air power and attained general officer rank.

† When MacArthur returned and defeated Japanese forces in the Philippines, one

of his subordinate commanders was US Army Col Arthur S. Collins, 130th

Infantry Regiment commander. On April 20, 1945, Colonel Collins' regiment lib -

erated the city of Baguio high in the mountains north of Clark. A monument on

the road to Baguio documents the event. Collins' post there became Camp John

Hay. Forty-seven years later, on July 1, 1991, Colonel Collins' son, Lt Col Kevin A.

Collins, USAF, commander of Camp John Hay, retired the US flag there and

returned the installation to the government of the Philippines. On November 26,

1991, Lieutenant Colonel Collins was promoted to Colonel. For the ceremony,

Collins used a set of hand-carved silver eagles that were given to his father in

1944 by the citizens of Baguio as a token of their gratitude.

The base’s name -

sake Maj Harold

M. Clark, U.S.

Army Signal Corp

aviator.
itary family housing area comprised most of the

west end and was commonly called “The Hill”

or “Hill housing.” Nearly two thousand homes

were on the Hill. Elementary schools, a middle

school, a new high school, a shopette (convenience store), and a restaurant complemented Hill

housing and gave it a stateside suburbia flavor.

From Hill housing the terrain sloped gently downward to the east and an enormous

parade field that was a reminder of Clark’s days

as a cavalry post early in the century. The parade

field, a quarter of a mile long and half as wide,

was nearly dead center in the base. The

Thirteenth Air Force headquarters building complex stood sentinel at the parade field’s west end

and was fronted by cannon and flagpoles, which

flew American and Philippine flags.

Large homes, called “barns,” edged the

north side of the parade field. The barns were

actually homes built in the early 1900s in a tropical architecture. They were wooden frame

homes of one story and stood above the ground

on short pilings. Most had large porches, or

verandas, on two or three sides. The roofs were

steeply pitched and made of corrugated steel

sheets. The barns’ interiors were equally rustic

with n a rr a , a local hardwood, floors worn

smooth and shining from decades of riding

boots, flying boots, bathroom slippers, and gleeful children’s sliding stocking feet. These sturdy

homes were made for tropical living. The steep

roofs protected against torrential monsoon rains

while the screened verandas let through breezes

during the dry season. The elevation above the

ground kept out unwanted jungle critters and

p rovided underneath ventilation to contro l

humidity. The total wooden construction made

them flexible in battering typhoon winds that

invariably came every summer.

5

In the early 1900s, the barns were the only

kind of housing at Clark, and the US government

constructed several hundred over the decades.

H o w e v e r, the constant battle with term i t e s ,

typhoons, and oppressive humidity made maintenance impractical. By the mid-1980s, most of

the barns were demolished. In their place, the

Air Force constructed nearly 1,000 new military

family housing units south and north of the

parade field. All told, the base had a little over

3,000 military family housing units. Only a few

of the charming old barns remained around the

parade field, symbols of Clark’s long, proud history that spanned more than 90 years.

The central part of the base also contained

the usual assortment of base support facilities:

c o m m i s s a ry (supermarket), base exchange

(department store), automobile service station,

movie theater, library, chapels, officers’ club,

enlisted club, swimming pool, golf course, and a

bowling alley. A Baskin-Robbins, within easy

walking distance of the parade field and the center of the base, was a touch of America. During

warm tropical evenings the ice cream shop did a

land-office business as mothers, fathers and children strolled the sidewalk around the parade

field, stopping to chat and enjoying the sights of

the beautiful base.

Mimosas, bougainvillea, palms of every

variety, tropical magnolias, flame trees, countless other flowering plants and shrubs, and

sweeping, immaculately manicured lawn areas

made the entire base picture-postcard perfect.

The most striking features, however, were the

enormous acacia trees that lined nearly every

street in the housing areas, encircled the parade

field, and spread their limbs across enormous

spans no mighty oak would ever dare. Many

w e re eighty feet high and twice as wide.

Functional as well as beautiful, they provided

welcome shade from the dry season’s blazing

sun.

East of the parade field, the terrain flattened, and the flight line area sprawled across

the broad base of the triangle. Two parallel runways ran northeast to southwest. The east runway was new and had opened for operations

only a few months earlier. About a mile east of

the runway was Clark’s east perimeter.

3

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

A photo taken in

1998 from in front

of the 3rd Support

Group headquar -

ters building look -

ing west along the

parade fields.

Built in the 60’s

Chambers Hall

became a homeaway-from-home

for the newly

arriving bachelor

officers.
Clark had been enjoying a building boom

for several years. In the 1991 fiscal year alone

nearly $150 million of construction contracts

were awarded.6 Recent additions to the base

included a second runway, airmen’s club, 1,000

family houses, three dormitories, non-commissioned officers’ club, security police headquarters building, housing management office, flight

operations building, officers’ club, commissary,

and golf course club house. Much of the new

construction was aimed at improving the quality

of life for Clark’s people who were on the other

side of the world from “the land of the big BX,*”

in an isolated location.

A concrete block wall, eight feet high and

twenty-six miles long, enclosed the entire base.

The wall was an attempt to keep out economic

intruders, a euphemism for thieves, who continually plagued the base.

A complex river system paralleled the

flanks of the triangle. Two major rivers, the

Sacobia and the Abacan flowed north and south

of the base from their headwaters in the

Zambales Mountains to the west. Other lesser

streams cut through the base. The entire watershed was arid during the dry months, but during

the July to November rainy season, the system

surged strongly from the Zambales eastward into

central Luzon.

Off-Base

Several towns and b a r a n g a y s ( v i l l a g e s )

abutted Clark’s imposing wall. The largest one,

Angeles City, sprawled south and east. Angeles

offered countless bars, nightclubs, and restaurants to serve American servicemen and their

families. The area was a beehive of activity, and

the streets were clogged with pedestrians, bicycles, and the ubiquitous jeepney. The jeepneys

were born from post-WW II military surplus

Jeeps which locals bought at very low prices and

then extensively customized. Jeepneys were

ornately decorated and sported gaudy, elaborate

paint schemes, plenty of chrome, flashing decorative lights, surrey fringes, and whatever imaginative touches the owners could conjure up. In

fact, jeepneys had become an art form; many

were decorated with a theme such as “The

Terminator” that featured a glowering Arnold

Schwarzenegger painted on the side, or “Snow

White” that had the seven dwarfs merrily cavorting across the hood.

Most Americans who lived in Angeles

lived in guarded compounds; theft was an even

bigger problem off the base. Yet many preferred

to live off the base because the rental fee for a

beautiful home was very low compared to stateside prices. Also, many American servicemen

were married to Filipinas, whose families were

nearby.

Immediately west of Angeles was the

barangay of Sapangbato; to the north of Angeles

were Dau and Mabalacat. The local Filipino

population numbered about 250,000.

Approximately 10,000 Filipinos worked

on the base. About 3,000 were directly employed

and paid by the US government. They worked

in nearly every office as clerks, secre t a r i e s ,

accountants, and myriad administrative employees. Filipinos were used extensively throughout

the base services sector as stable grooms, billeting receptionists, dining room servers, and lifeguards at the three swimming pools.7

Many were employed as “local hires” and

worked directly for base residents as domestics

and gardeners. Since wage scales in the

Philippines were low, nearly all the 3,000 families who resided on the base, as well as most of

the several thousand families who lived in the

surrounding area, employed a “house girl” and

“yard boy.” Although the gardeners usually

came to manicure the landscaping around a

home only once or twice a week, it was common

for the domestics to live in the home with its

American family during the week. Typically, a

live-in maid earned $15 a week to do all cooking,

baby-sitting, laundry, and light cleaning.

Gardeners earned $5-$10 a day to tend the land4

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Jeepneys. The pecu -

liar jeep/car/tru c k

vehicles common in

the Philippines that

p rovided public

t r a n s p o rt a t i o n .

Base operations

building overlook -

ing the Clark flight

line. 

* Base exchange.
scaping, wash the cars, and do heavy cleaning in

the house. Other local hires rotated through the

homes doing manicures, pedicures, and massages. Clever seamstresses earned good livings

making tailor-made clothing for American families using pictures from stateside catalogs as patterns. Golf carts were seen rarely on the golf

course; nearly everyone used Filipino caddies at

$2.50 per round. Most caddies were good players in their own right, so the fee often included

free tips and lessons during a round.

Close bonds grew between the American

families and Filipino workers, especially

between the families and the live-in maids,

many of whom had worked on the base for

decades. American children grew up on the

base with a deep affection for the “extended family member” with whom they lived. Golfers frequently played with the same caddy and established trusting relationships with them.

Many Filipino employees worked their

entire adult lives at Clark. One of the best

known was Ms Ceferina Yepez. Miss Cefey was

the liaison between Clark and the Filipino community. She had worked for the USAF at Clark

since the year the Air Force was born–1947. She

knew everyone who was anyone in the Filipino

community and had her finger on the pulse of

American-Filipino relations. An engaging

woman with a very quick wit, Miss Cefey

arranged social meetings between senior Clark

officers and local community leaders with a

style and grace admired by all.

Military Operations

In the spring of 1991, Maj Gen William A.

Studer was the senior officer at Clark Air Base

and commanded Thirteenth Air Forc e .

Thirteenth, with the proud nickname “Jungle

Air Force” earned from its exploits in the south

Pacific during World War II, was a very small

numbered air force. Only the USAF in the

Philippines and Guam fell under its command.

Although its force strength was small,

Thirteenth had a very large area of responsibility that stretched throughout Southeast Asia and

included Singapore and Thailand. Clark Air

Base and Andersen Air Base on Guam were the

only two Air Force bases in the command,

although there were several smaller installations

such as Camp John Hay and Wallace Air Station

in the Philippines which were also in Thirteenth

Air Force.

D i rectly subordinate to Thirteenth Air

Force, and the primary unit of Clark Air Base,

was the 3d Tactical Fighter Wing (TFW), commanded by Col Jeffrey R. Grime. The 3d Tactical

Fighter Wing ran the base and provided all its

support functions: housing, logistics, medical

and dental care, flight operations, civil engineering, aircraft and vehicle maintenance, supply,

recreation, etc. Colonel Grime was also the Clark

installation commander and as such was responsible for anything that affected the base or its

population. Although General Studer was

Grime’s boss, Studer was at Clark under the

same circumstances as an admiral sailed on a

battleship. The battleship (Clark) was the flag ship,

but the captain (Grime) commanded the ship.

The primary flying units of the 3 TFW

were the 3d Tactical Fighter Squadron, equipped

with the F-4E Phantom II multi-role fighter, and

the 90th Tactical Fighter Squadron, which was

equipped with the F-4G Phantom II Wi l d

Weasel. Three UH-1 Huey helicopters, whose

call sign was Cactus, rounded out the wing’s flying forces.

In November 1990, the Air Force decided

to withdraw all flying units from Clark. By April

1991, only a handful of the 3 TFW’s fighter jets

remained, and the last of those was flown out

June 4.8

The 6200th Tactical Fighter Tr a i n i n g

Group (TFTG) was also under the direct command of Thirteenth Air Force. The 6200 TFTG

ran two unique programs: Cope Thunder and

Combat Sage. Cope Thunder, which was first

held in 1976, was a training exercise that

b rought units to Clark from throughout the

Pacific area to participate in war games. Units

from the US Air Force, Navy, and Marine Corps,

as well as some foreign air forces, sent fighters,

bombers, transports, air-refueling tankers, and

command and control aircraft to participate in

very intense flying war games.

5

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

The Fort

Stotsenburg

gateposts still

stand on the Clark

Parade field in

1998. Note the

bottom of the post.

The date of 1902

is hidden behind

the nearly nine

inch increase of

the ground level

as a result of the

ash fall.
Cope Thunder was conducted in an area

that stretched nearly half the length of Luzon

starting at its north end and stretching south

nearly 100 miles. Crow Valley, which was only

10 miles north of Clark Air Base, was at the

southern end of the exercise airspace and held

myriad bombing targets and scoring systems to

assess the fighter pilots’ bombing skills. In a typical war game, friendly forces, designated

“Blue,” would take off from Clark, fly up central

Luzon, then fly south through the exercise airspace to attack the targets in Crow Va l l e y.

Enemy forces, designated “Red,” defended Crow

Valley. The Red forces consisted of “enemy”

fighters, frequently US Navy jets, and an impressive array of radar transmitters that replicated

Soviet surface-to-air (SAM) missiles and radarcontrolled anti-aircraft artillery (AAA). All Red

defenses had the capability to score their “shots”

against Blue attackers. Every morning and every

afternoon, throughout the year, dozens of Blue

fighters and support forces hurtled south into

Crow Valley, honing their wartime skills in thunderous, swirling battles. To understand the

scope of these exercises one need only imagine

what the movie “Top Gun” would be like had

Cecil B. Demille produced it. Cope Thunder, by

most accounts, provided aircrews with the best

training available in the Pacific.

The 6200 TFTG’s other mission, Combat

Sage, was every bit as valuable and challenging

as Cope Thunder. Combat Sage’s mission was to

evaluate the Pacific Air Forces’ (PACAF) fighter

units’ capabilities to fire air-to-air missiles.

Fighter units from PACAF came to Clark regularly to fire missiles at target drones launched from

Wallace Air Station, a small installation north of

Clark. The Combat Sage troops provided missiles that were equipped with telemetry packages that transmitted such data as missile performance, pilot performance and miss distance

to Combat Sage telemetry gathering stations.

The data was then used to analyze missile, aircraft, and pilot perf o rmance. Commanders,

logisticians, and weapons developers throughout the USAF used the data to improve aircraft

and missile systems as well as pilot training programs.

Several associate units (units not under

direct operational command of 3 TFW) resided

on the base as well. The largest of these was the

353d Special Operations Wing (SOW), commanded by Col Leon E. Hess. The 353 SOW was

equipped with MC-130E Combat Talon aircraft

as well as MH-53, Pave Low helicopters.

Clark was an ideal location for the SOW;

the terrain of Luzon offered a variety of features

that ranged from broad expanses of rice paddies

to high mountains. For pilots who might be

tasked to fly special operations missions anywhere in Asia, Luzon was a superb training

ground. Since much of the SOW’s training was

done at night, Luzon’s thinly populated expanse

permitted low level flight with very little disturbance.

Over the years special operations forces

had earned the moniker “snake eaters,” because

special operations forces often worked behind

enemy lines and had to live off the land. The

SOW at Clark was a highly trained and professional unit that carried the “snake eater” image

proudly.

Over the years, the infrastructure of Clark

evolved toward self-suff i c i e n c y. Electrical

power was generated by two large electrical production facilities. All water came from deep

wells within the base boundary. Water from

these wells was pumped to several storage tanks

strategically placed across the base. There was

even a dairy which produced milk and milk

products so the supplies were fresh for consumers. Television and radio stations broadcast

American TV shows, including sports and news,

to work places and homes both on and off the

base. A weekly base newspaper, the Philippine

Flyer, covered local events, sports, and public

service announcements.

I Survived . . . .

By the spring of 1991, however, Clark’s

people were tired and stressed. Over the previ6

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

3d Wing F-4 parked

in front of the Clark

Control Tower.
ous year, a nearly unimaginable series of events

seemed to pile one on another. In May 1990, two

airmen were assassinated near the base. The

killers were members of the New People’s Army

(NPA), a communist-based guerrilla group which

s t rongly opposed a US presence in the

Philippines. Other NPA assassinations had happened over the years, and the loss of these two

a i rmen only added to the uneasiness all

Americans felt while travelling in the area. In

response to these most recent killings, General

Studer ordered Americans confined to the base.

Those who lived off base had to stay in quarters

and could only leave to drive to and from work.

The restrictions only lasted a

s h o rt time, but there a f t e r,

whenever intelligence indicated another possible threat to

American lives, the “lock

down” would be reinstated. In

July 1990, a tremendous earthquake, measuring 7.8 on the

Richter Scale, shook central

Luzon.10 Although little damage occurred on Clark, it was a

frightening experience for all.

Many airmen were involved in

relief operations in the hardest

hit provinces north and east of

Clark. It was not a pretty sight,

especially in Cabantuan, where

a poorly constructed school

collapsed on 250 children. The installation at

Baguio, Camp John Hay, was badly damaged,

and the town of Baguio had hundreds dead.

Clark airmen were heroic in their relief efforts,

although the horror of dragging mangled bodies

from crumpled buildings took its toll.

In the fall, not long after the earthquake,

the local Filipino workers’ union voted to strike,

and nearly 3,000 workers on the US government

payroll walked out. It was a bitter strike, and

again Americans were locked up because of the

threats of violence to them by the strikers. The

strike lasted only ten days, though, because

downtown businessmen put pressure on the

strikers. The lock down of Americans had

caused a drastic reduction in business.11

If these pressures were not enough, several

typhoons swept through the area, a typical

occurrence during the late fall and early winter.

Many re m e m b e red a super typhoon that

smashed through the base in 1989. These huge

s t o rms caused massive flooding thro u g h o u t

Luzon. All in all, to maintain that the mood and

morale at Clark were not high was a classic

understatement.12 In a display of unmistakable

gallows humor, many wore T-shirts which proclaimed in bold letters, “I survived . . . .” These

words were followed by a long checklist of

frightening and dangerous events: typhoons,

assassinations, floods, strikes and coup attempts

against the Philippine government of President

Corazon C. Aquino.

Base Negotiations

Despite the continuing string of man-made

and natural disasters, the one series of events

which most disturbed the Americans at Clark

were the base agreements negotiations. The long

series of meetings, which lasted from the fall of

1990 into the summer of 1991, were bitter and

c o n t e n t i o u s .1 3 The US team, headed by

Ambassador Richard

Armitage, had as its purpose of

the negotiations to establish a

new agreement to replace the

one that would expire in 1991.

Although the Americans

at Clark thought their beautiful

base was essential to continued US presence in the region,

some national leaders in

Washington, DC expre s s e d

concern with a perceived “lack

of leadership” in the Aquino

government and the “corruption that was endemic in her

family.”14 Further, Aquino and

her government had failed to

spend millions in US aid.

Then, adding insult to injury, she had refused a

meeting with Secretary of Defense Dick Cheney

despite the fact that US jets from Clark had supported her during a recent coup attempt.15 When

Armitage met with Secretary of State Baker prior

to the first round of negotiations, Baker told

Armitage he did not care if an agreement was

reached, nor did President Bush. However,

Bush wanted other Asian allies to see that the

United States was interested in the Pacific rim.

Armitage was given instructions to negotiate

7

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

One beautiful morning in

early April, base residents

could see a tall, puffy,

white plume rising a

thousand feet into the

bright, blue sky

A security officer

looks on as strikers

picket the main

gate.
honorably and fully, but if no agreement resulted, so be it. He was told, “do your best, but we

don’t care.”16

The first six months of the 1991 negotiations were trying. At the beginning of the year,

the Philippines wanted guaranteed fixed

“rental” for the term of any agreement reached,

whereas the United States only wanted to pledge

a “best effort” to adjust the annual fee in accordance with other factors, primarily the utility of

the base. In mid January, US negotiators agreed

to return Wallace Air Station to the Philippine

government, an act which the anti-American

Philippine press saw as “conciliatory.” Much

attention, both in the media and among supporters, turned to a limited access to Clark, whereby

only the Special Operations Wing, Cope

Thunder and Combat Sage would use Clark.

Many Philippine voices, who claimed to be probases supported only a five-year extension for

access at a rental fee of $500 million annually.

It was difficult if not impossible for

Armitage and the US team to pin down exactly

what the Philippines and its chief negotiator,

Raul Manglapus, wanted. Aquino stayed clear

of the negotiations, and the resulting lack of

leadership permitted a cacophony of factional

clamoring for a variety of schemes. By the end

of January 1991, these posturings seemed nothing more than a disorganized effort to jack up the

price of an agreement. The major sticking point

was compensation. The US Joint Chiefs of Staff

considered anything less than a ten-year agreement to be temporary; therefore, compensation

should be less. Armitage and his team, however, seemed unable to move Manglapus off his

position of a seven-year agreement at a fixed

price.

Negotiations continued through the spring

of 1991 by fits and starts, with issues rising and

falling in concert with Philippine demands

a ffecting national sovere i g n t y, any of which

could be resolved were the United States to offer

“enough” money. The sixth round ended with

no progress, as Manglapus insisted on $825 million a year for a maximum of seven years.

A rmitage held firm that the maximum the

United States would pay was $360 million a year

for ten years; any shorter term would mean a significant reduction in compensation. The collapse of the talks seemed imminent.17

All of this was even more confusing to

Clark’s residents and the surrounding American

and Philippine community. The constant yoyoing of the talks created an atmosphere of

u n c e rtainty about their futures. The local

Filipinos and the American servicemen and families were a tightly knit community with many

close ties. To most, the idea that the base would

close was nearly unthinkable. Further, each

time Armitage and Manglapus entered into a

new round of discussions, the NPA threatened to

assassinate more service members as a signal of

their desire to see the Americans out of the

Philippines. In response, General Studer directed a “lock down” of the base prior to each round.

Those who lived on base could not leave the

base, and those who lived off-base could only

travel direct, protected routes to and from work.

General Studer full well knew the impact of the

lock downs, but he was determined to do everything in his power to protect his people.1 8

Ultimately, a siege mentality with its attendant

cabin fever set in throughout the base.

The Last Straw

One beautiful morning in early April, base

residents could see a tall, puffy, white plume rising a thousand feet into the bright, blue sky over

the Zambales Mountains. For those few who

know the area well, it was clear that the plume

was emanating from Mount Pinatubo. It was

April 2. The next ten weeks would prove it to be

no belated April Fools’ joke.

8

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

NOTES TO CHAPTER 1

1 Briefing, 3 TFW/CC to PACAF/CC November 14, 1991, PACAF/HO,

Hickam AFB, HI.

2 Christopher G. Newhall, ed and Raymundo S. Punongbayan, Fire and

Mud (Seattle: University of Washington Press), 1996, p 3 [hereafter

cited as Fire and Mud]. 

3 United States Air Force Fact Sheet, "Clark Air Base, Republic of the

Philippines,” 3 TFW/PAO, March 1984.

4 Briefing, "Disaster in the Philippines,” n.d., on file PACAF/HO, Hickam

AFB, HI.

5 C. R. Anderegg, personal journal, 1991 [hereafter cited as author's

journal].

6 Interview, Col James E. Goodman with the author, November 11,

1998 [hereafter cited as Goodman interview].

7 Interview, Ceferina Yepez with author at Clark AB, Philippines, Octo -

ber 30, 1998.

8 Pilot's log book, C. R. Anderegg [hereafter cited as Anderegg, pilot

log book], entry from June 4, 1991.

9 History, Ash Warriors: The relocation of the 353d Special Operations

Wing, June-December 1991, Maj Forrest L. Marion, HQ Air Force Spe -

cial Operations Command/History Office, p.3.

10 Fire and Mud, p 5.

11 Interview, Lt Col Ronald Rand, with PACAF/HO, September 14,

1992 [hereafter cited as Rand interview].

12 Ibid.

13 Pacific Air Forces Annual History, 1991, PACAF/HO, Hickam AFB, HI,

p 68 [hereafter cited as PACAF 1991 History].

14 Interview, Ambassador Richard Armitage with the author, January

27, 1999 [hereafter cited as Armitage interview].

15 Ibid.

16 Ibid.

17 PACAF 1991 History, p 69-70.

18 Interview, Maj General (Ret) William A. Studer with the author, Jan -

uary 5, 1999, tape on file PACAF/HO, Hickam AFB, HI [hereafter cited

as Studer interview].
Chapter 2

A few days after the steam plume appeared, the phenomenon was discussed at the daily

3 TFW “stand-up,” or senior staff meeting. This meeting, which occurred in similar fashion

at every Air Force base around the world on a daily basis, was chaired by the installation commander and included his staff and representatives of every organization on the base. The

wing commander’s principal deputy, the vice wing commander, chaired the meeting on occasions when the commander was absent. Such was the case at this meeting because the wing

commander, Col Jeff Grime, was flying an F-4 mission over the Crow Valley range.

The first order of business was to hear a briefing that reviewed all base activities from

the previous day such as flying results, maintenance status, supply status, and hospital activities. A briefing that detailed upcoming events followed. During the last ten minutes of standup, each staff member had the opportunity to speak individually. When it came to Col John

Murphy, the 3d Support Group Commander, he surprised everyone by saying that the steam

rising out of the Zambales Mountains was from a volcano. In fact, the volcano was Mount

Pinatubo.

The vice wing commander, Col Dick Anderegg, responded, “Volcano? What volcano?”

This remark expressed the immediate reaction of nearly everyone in the room and foreshadowed the reaction nearly everyone on the base would have as word spread about the volcano.

Colonel Murphy, as support group commander, oversaw all the base’s support functions.

An eager, very intelligent officer, Colonel Murphy was highly regarded throughout the base as

an officer who was a “people person,” one who took great pains to look out for his troops. He

had good ideas and was a ball of fire putting them into action. On one occasion, after he

learned that retirees, who numbered some 4,000 living near the base, were unable to purchase

adequate provisions at the base commissary and base exchange, he quickly resolved their

complaint.1

During the previous few years, a Filipino company, trying to capitalize on speculation

that the area around Pinatubo was rich with geo-thermal energy, drilled some deep wells. The

purpose of the wells was to tap into what the speculators believed to be large stores of steam

trapped underground. The wells might produce steam power that could drive electrical generating stations. The gamble did not pay off, however, and the company abandoned the effort.2

Colonel Murphy heard that the steam plume was coming from an abandoned well that

had broken open. He investigated further and learned that the wells had nothing to do with

the steam. In fact, a small explosion had occurred on the northwest flank of Pinatubo. The

source of his information was the Philippine Institute of Volcanology and Seismology, or

PHIVOLCS (pronounced Fee-volks).

Questions flew like arrows at a circled wagon train. Where? How? When? Big? Small?

Colonel Murphy had no answers to these questions. As the officers left the large briefing room

every conversation was similar. A volcano? How could there be a volcano there? It was just

a small mountain range with a few large hills. It sure didn’t look like a place for a volcano!

VOLCANO? WHAT VOLCANO?

Steam rises from vents along the

northwest flank of Mount Pinatubo

in June, 1991.

9

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
The Scientific Wheels Start Turning

In Manila, less than sixty miles southwest

of Clark, Dr. Raymundo Punongbayan, Director

of PHIVOLCS, was well aware that Mount

Pinatubo was a volcano. Only days before,

Sister Emma, a nun who worked with Aeta

tribesmen living on the flanks of Pinatubo, came

unannounced into Dr. Punongbayan’s off i c e .

She told him there had been a large explosion

near the mountain’s summit and a lot of ash was

on the ground. The air was laced with a strong

sulfur smell. Dr. Punongbayan immediately dispatched a PHIVOLCS team to investigate. The

team returned the next day to report that a fiss u re, approximately half a mile long, had

opened high on the northwest flank of the mountain. The blast killed a large area of vegetation.

Further, they reported steam and sulfur fumes

were emitting continuously from the fault.3

Punongbayan sent his team back to the

mountain, this time with a seismograph to determine if any subterranean activity was occurring,

and he did one other thing. It turned out to be

an act that ultimately saved thousands of lives.

He called his old friend, Dr. Chris Newhall, at

the US Geological Survey (USGS) in the United

States.4

During the middle weeks of April, most

base residents took some time to peer curiously

at the column of steam rising out of the

Zambales west of the base. The best view was

from the parade field where the columns seemed

to rise out of Thirteenth Air Force headquarters

flanked by the US and Philippine flags. It was

the dry season, during the northeast monsoon,

so the skies were perfect blue, and the columns

of steam that rose against them were startlingly

white and quite majestic. Even though it was

beautiful to see, those living on the hill, near the

west wall, could smell clearly the sulfur emissions from the vents, and Colonel Grime was

concerned the residents' health could be affected. The hospital commander, Col Brian Duffy,

suggested one of his teams investigate. The

team, which had been trained to test for a variety

of poison gases as part of their military training,

took air samples for several days on the hill.

They determined that, despite the occasional

repugnant odor, there was no cause for concern.

Colonel Grime accepted their findings but

directed continuing checks. Military training

was starting to kick in: plan for the best; expect

the worst; accept anything in between.

Meanwhile, Dr. Punongbayan at

PHIVOLCS and Dr. Newhall at USGS were trying

to get a USGS team to the Philippines.

PHIVOLCS was undermanned because several

scientists were abroad working on advanced

d e g rees, and the Taal volcano not far fro m

Pinatubo was acting up, too. Dr. Punongbayan

requested assistance through the US Agency for

International Development (USAID), but they

refused.

Dr. Newhall pressed the issue by calling

directly to Clark and speaking with Col Bruce

Freeman, vice commander of Thirteenth Air

F o rce. Dr. Newhall explained to Colonel

Freeman that the Air Force needed USGS at

Clark, but USAID did not see it that way.

Newhall recalls Colonel Freeman’s reaction as

“expletives deleted.”5 The colonel went directly

to the American Embassy in Manila to argue the

case, thus completing an “end run” around

USAID.

The next day, a surprised Dr. Newhall

received a terse fax from USAID saying that they

expected his team to be on the next plane out.

Although they were allocated a mere $20,000,

the fax, with pointed sarcasm, suggested they

“should not feel obligated to spend all of it.”

D r. Newhall, along with volcanologists

Andy Lockhart and John Power, got on the first

available airplane. They took 35 trunks of gear

on a flight halfway around the world. The

$20,000 was gone before they got to Clark.6

10

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Dr. Christopher

Newhall, geologist

from the US

Geological Survey

Center, West

Virginia, monitored

recording instru -

ments during

Mount Pinatubo’s

upheavals. 
The small USGS team arrived at Clark

April 24. Volcanologists John Ewert, Rick

Hoblitt, and Dave Harlow were not far behind.

Murphy set them up in a two-story, four-unit,

base house on Maryland Avenue where they

could monitor their equipment and could see

the volcano from the second floor windows. The

living room became a makeshift confere n c e

room. Bedrooms on either side of the main unit

provided sleeping quarters for the small crowd

of the USGS-PHIVOLCS team. They named the

house PVO (Pinatubo Volcano Observ a t o ry ) .

PHIVOLCS added people to the team, and soon

all were busy working to find out what Pinatubo

was up to. PVO, with its air-conditioning,

kitchen, bathrooms, and showers was a good

working environment. One volcanologist joked

that it was better than the South American

chicken coop in which he had last worked.7

Seismometers emerged from the 35 trunks

of equipment. These sensors are about the size

of a very large thermos bottle and powered by a

car battery. Their purpose is to feel the vibrations of earthquakes. The volcanologists selected seven sites around Pinatubo ranging from one

to 17 kilometers from its summit. At each of

these locations, a seismometer was installed.

The process went very quickly because base helicopters, call sign Cactus, airlifted the scientists

and their equipment to the installation sites. To

install the sensors, workers dug a hole in firm

ground, bedrock if they could find it, then partially filled the hole with quick-setting cement.

The sensor was then securely fastened to the

hardened concrete and attached to a common

car battery for power. A transmitting antenna

stuck out the top. One of the sensors was

installed on the base as well. Three radio relay

sites were installed to insure all data could be

transmitted to PVO.8

As soon as the Clark sensor was operational, it confirmed what Dr. Punongbayan’s initial teams had found. Pinatubo was very restless. Deep below the surface, magma was

expanding. The expanding magma cracked its

overarching layers of rock as it pushed upward.

Small earthquakes, which the seismometers

could feel, signaled the magma’s expansion.

Although PHIVOLCS’ sensors were good, those

that USGS brought in the trunks were state-ofthe-art equipment. The signals they sent back

were displayed on large rotating drums covered

with graph paper. When the sensor felt an earthquake, the ink needle on the drum squiggled like

a lie detector machine. The room in PVO where

these drums were located quickly became

known as the drum room. There was always a

volcanologist on duty watching the needles

squiggle back and forth on the slowly rotating

d rums. Visitors to the drum room quickly

learned the protocol. Interested drum observers

stood a foot back from the drums, hands in pockets, bent forward at the waist and peered down

at the squiggles.

When some people think of earthquakes,

they envision San Francisco falling down. Such

was not the case in the early days of Pinatubo’s

activity. The earthquakes, which the drums displayed, could not be felt at the American base.

They were very small and very deep below the

surface.

Lockhart and Power seemed to be scientists who could wire anything together and make

it sing Dixie. The drum room was a maze of

wires and cables. At the confluence of two particularly jumbled messes were linked laptop

computers. A software program, called RSAM

(relative seismic amplitude measurement), was

able to measure a predicted energy level within

Pinatubo. Even those with little scientific background could understand the RSAM’s story; as

the squiggly line on the computer screen rose

higher, so rose higher the energy building in the

mountain. As each day passed, the squiggly line

climbed higher.

Another part of the software could display

a graphic image that showed not only the location of each small earthquake, but its depth as

well. Every time one of the seismometers registered a quake, a small, green + would show on

the monitor. As the earthquakes accumulated, it

became easy to see the path of building pressure

under the mountain.

Not everything went smoothly as Col John

Murphy and Lt Col Al Shirley settled the volcano team and provided for their needs. When

Dr. Newhall tried to buy 20 car batteries at the

base service station, the attendant told him,

“Sorry, one per customer per car per year.”

Batteries were a valuable commodity on the

black market that flourished outside Clark’s

wall, so a limit had been placed on their purchase. Colonel Murphy intervened with his

11

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

A seismograph

records tremors

from Mount

Pinatubo. 
counterpart who ran the service station concession. Newhall got his batteries, and the sensors

started transmitting. Dr. Newhall, having long

since spent the pittance provided by USAID,

paid for the batteries with his personal credit

card.9

Several USGS team members sport e d

beards. Of course, this team of scientists looked

very much out of place with their beards and

very casual clothing sprinkled into Clark’s military environment of squeaky-clean uniforms and

short haircuts. It did not take long for someone

to start calling the USGS team “the beards.”

Nicknames are common in fighter units, and

Clark was, first and foremost, a fighter base.

Nicknames are not given to fighter pilots until

they become fully mission-ready and part of the

fighting team. The USGS scientists became part

of the team quickly, and just as quickly, their

nickname became used widely.

Gradually, the team that monitored the

mountain emerged. Colonel Murphy (nicknamed Whopper because of his support responsibilities, “Have it your way”) provided housing,

transportation, and other needs to the USGS. Dr.

Newhall headed the USGS team, served as liaison with PHIVOLCS, and educated Clark’s senior leadership. His lectures, or Geology 101 as

some called them, were given many times to

many groups. Maj Gen William A. Studer, the

T h i rteenth Air Force Commander, kept the

embassy in Manila and the Pacific Air Forces

headquarters informed about what was happening at Clark. Colonel Grime made final decisions

about any actions to be taken in response to the

volcano’s threat. Colonel Grime’s vice wing

commander, Colonel Anderegg, would be the

director of the crisis action team (CAT) which

would execute Grime’s orders.

Right at the start, a philosophical difference emerged between Colonels Grime and

Murphy. Colonel Murphy wanted to flood the

base with information about the volcano with an

appearance by USGS team members on television and a series of Philippine Flyer newspaper

articles. His logic was that “well informed was

well armed.” Colonel Grime took the opposite

view, though. He did not want any information

put out that was not absolutely and certainly

accurate. His logic was that incomplete information, or, worse yet, wrong information would

only serve to frighten people needlessly. As

events progressed, the wing commander and

support group commander discussed and argued

their views on this important issue more than

once. Colonel Grime’s point of view, as the officer ultimately responsible for the safety of his

people, prevailed. The policy was for no information to be disseminated unless it became necessary, and there was no chance of the information being reversed in the future. Grime knew

that if the volcano progressed to an eruption he

could only cry wolf once.10

Lt Col Ron Rand (call sign “Mercury,” the

winged messenger) was the base public affairs

o ff i c e r. He worked for General Studer at

Thirteenth Air Force but had responsibility for

information dissemination across the base. He

became the single point of contact for information about the volcano. Americans on and near

Clark were very familiar with Rand’s face and

voice. During the incredible string of hardships

the base experienced, his was the face everyone

saw on Far East Network (FEN) television, and

his was the voice on the radio. So it would continue during the weeks as Mount Pinatubo

cooked. When Colonel Rand spoke on television, he delivered his message with a total deadpan face and spoke with what could only be

described as a flat monotone. Clark residents

and workers dubbed Rand “Colonel Bland.”

By mid-May all the scientific gear at PVO

was operational, including two tilt meters that

had been installed high on Pinatubo’s flanks.

The job of the tilt meters was to determine if the

ground started to swell or shift, an event that

might presage an eruption. USGS team member

John Ewert was on-board by then, and the tilt

meters were his babies. Although Ewert was

beardless and did not wear flip-flop sandals, his

prognostication skills proved to be nearly visionary. He was right so often about what the mountain would do, some suggested he should be sent

to Las Vegas with a month of everyone’s pay. It

would have been a wise investment.

Also on-board was the team’s primary rock

hound, Rick Hoblitt. A slight, wiry man with a

full beard and a quick smile, Hoblitt arrived

12

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

On the slopes of

Mount Pinatubo,

one of the vol -

canic scientists

studies the moun -

tain.
13

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

from the United States with a severe toothache.

Murphy immediately saw him off to the base

dental clinic where the dental clinic commander Col Charley Dufort treated the ailing volcanologist.11 Despite the pain and jet lag, Hoblitt went

to work immediately surveying the area for signs

of Pinatubo’s past. Base helicopters frequently

took Hoblitt and Newhall, who was also a geologist, out to the riverbeds and other points of geological interest to gather rocks. Hoblitt did some

on-the-spot analysis for a “quick-look,” then sent

the rocks on to USGS laboratories in the States.

As the scientific evidence accumulated,

the base’s senior officers continued to get the

Geology 101 course fro m

Newhall and the others. The

central computers at PVO were

p rogrammed to locate the

earthquakes from the sensors'

data transmissions by triangulating each earthquake’s position and depth. They also

measured the amplitude (relative strength) of each eart hquake and its fre q u e n c y

(pitch).

This information was critical. Position

and depth were important to determine if and

where magma was moving upward, toward the

surface. The significance of the amplitude or

strength of the earthquakes was a measure of the

force of the magma as it fractured rock in the

earth's crust. The frequency or pitch thus would

provide an indicator of what was causing the

earthquake. The sharp cracking of rock at a high

frequency would indicate that magma was forcing its way through solid rock. Lower frequency

earthquakes would often occur as the magma got

closer to the surface. As volcanoes progressed

toward an eruption over a period of weeks,

months, or even years, the earthquakes came in

swarms, ever increasing in strength and moving

toward the surface. As the magma expanded

and moved, it caused earthquakes of notably

higher strength and lower frequency.

As the data grew, Dr. Newhall was able to

express his evaluation of Pinatubo. The news

was not good. It appeared as though it was not a

hydrothermal event – one that merely boils subsurface water and throws it into the air as harmless steam like Old Faithful. Nor was it a lavaproducing volcano similar to those people ooh

and aah over in Hawaii where the lava flows in

majestic ribbons. As Rick Hoblitt said, Pinatubo

was not “the kind where you sit on your front

porch, sip a cocktail, and wonder if it will get to

your property within the next four generations.”

No. Pinatubo was turning out to be a Plinian,* or

explosive volcano. Just like Mount Saint Helens.

The geological survey in progress by Mr.

Hoblitt gave a glimpse of the volcano’s history.

The three most recent major eruptions occurred

approximately 500, 3,000, and 5,500 years ago.

“The general pattern of eruptions was the same:

episodes of voluminous explosive eruptions separated by centuries to millennia of repose.”12

Many good examples of pyroclastic flows

showed deposits in the riverbeds both north and

south of the base.

At this point in the training session, the

vice wing commander interrupted. “What is

pyroplastic?”† Dr. Newhall, ever the educator,

responded, “Not pyroplastic. The word is pyroclastic. Hot fragments.

P y roclastic flow is the main

danger of a volcano such as

Pinatubo. If the eruptions are

big enough, the huge amount of

ash ejected rolls down the volcano's flanks in enorm o u s

clouds. These flows typically

are 900 to 1,000 degrees centigrade, move at between 50 to

100 mph, and because they are

so dense, quite simply wipe out everything in

their path.” This last comment elicited only

silence.

Newhall added, “We have found evidence

that the last eruptions deposited pyro c l a s t i c

material in the Sacobia River on the north side of

the base and the Abacan River on the south side.

Of course, those rivers come very close to base

housing. Perhaps a few hundred yards. The real

problem is that they can jump the banks if they

are big enough.”

The vice wing commander responded, “So

what you're telling me is that if the mountain

erupts, and if the eruptions are big enough, and

if pyroclastic flows come down the watershed,

and if they jump the banks, the people who live

in those homes are toast. Right?”

He answered, “Yes, that could happen,

based on the type of volcano we know Pinatubo

to be, and what has happened in the past which

is frequently a good indicator of the future.”

In a journal kept on his personal computer,

A n d e regg wrote about his thoughts at that

moment. “I had no idea how to deal with this

information on either a personal or professional

level. What they had just said scared me, really

scared me. Not so much for myself or any immediate danger. But how would we manage this

thing? How would we make decisions?

Thousands depended on us to make the right

call.”

Pinatubo was turning

out to be a Plinian, or

explosive volcano

* Pliny the Elder died at the explosive eruption of Mount Vesuvius.

† Hot/fiery fragments is the meaning of pyroclastic, from the Greek.
“I had no doubt that if the volcano continued to develop, Grime was going to be in a very

tight situation, and we didn't know anything

about volcanoes, especially this one. We were

military men. Ask us about Soviet tactics, logistics, morale, equipment. Ask us what it's like to

pull six times your own gravity in a hard turn

while you're trying to maneuver for a kill in a

dogfight. Ask us how to motivate subordinates

to achieve their best. But volcanoes?”13

Colonel Grime and Colonel Murphy were

still of a different mind about planning for a possible evacuation as well as what information to

pass to the troops. Colonel Grime was very concerned that passing information to people piecemeal was a recipe for disaster. He did not want

panic to spread throughout the base. Colonel

Murphy’s desire was to get everything that was

happening out in the open and let people make

plans. 

By the middle of May, even the volcanologists were unwilling to determine which way the

volcano might go. They were sticking to “a 50

percent possibility of an eruption within a year”

status.14 Colonel Grime saw no reason to react

based on such flimsy evidence. His efforts to

force USGS into being specific in their prognostications were unsuccessful. He wanted them to

give him a series of decision points from which

he could react, but they would not do so.15 The

USGS business is to give people at home and

abroad a heads-up about volcanic business, but

the volcano had not started down the road to an

inevitable eruption, yet.16

Colonel Grime’s attempts to keep a lid on

rumors and fear were not working. When the

USGS sent and received a fax, it went through

the base weather office. This was akin to posting

the faxes on the base bulletin board since the

messages went through so many hands long

before they reached their intended destinations.

In order to fill this information leak, which was

only one of many, the USGS got their own fax

machine at PVO.17 Freeman, who had gone out

on a limb to get the USGS team to Clark, was also

concerned about rumors and asked scientists not

to speculate about the volcano with office workers when they called.18

Colonel Murphy, in an attempt to follow

the wing commander’s guidelines while preparing for the worst, began clandestine preparations

for an evacuation.19 Lt Col Jim White was the

commander of the central base personnel office,

the chief human resources officer on the base.

Murphy trusted him and late one evening in

early May called White to a meeting at Murphy’s

house. At this meeting, Murphy tasked White to

begin planning for an evacuation. One of the

first tasks, according to Colonel Murphy, was to

find a place from which a security force could

operate which was well away from the base.

Murphy was not convinced that evacuating to

the far side of the runway was far enough away

for safety.

The two officers started driving around the

local area east of the base looking for a suitable

location. They found the Pampanga Agricultural

College ten miles further east of the base, and

discussed with the president of the college their

desire to store food and water at the college. The

president did not seem concerned about why

they wanted to do so, but he agreed after learning that Murphy was willing to have the base

civil engineers make some minor improvements

to the college. Such projects were not unusual.

The base had a very active civic actions program

that frequently remodeled schools and sent medical/dental teams into primitive areas to administer to the poor. Shortly thereafter, Col Jim

Goodman, the base civil engineer, sent workers

to make a few thousand dollars worth of repairs,

and the supplies were squirreled away in two

storage rooms.

Colonel Murphy’s intuition was that an

escape route was needed to the east for security

forces that would be left behind to guard the

base in the event of a large-scale evacuation. No

such plan had been discussed officially, but

Murphy acted on his intuition and put his

deputy, Jim White, to work.

The only disconcerting aspect of the agricultural college was that it was directly on the

flank of a dormant volcano, Mount Arayat,

which rose ominously from the rice paddies east

of the base. Arayat, which was some 2,700 feet

higher than the surrounding elevation, was

familiar to anyone who visited or lived at Clark.

Many who heard about the volcano near Clark

immediately assumed it was Arayat. It was not.

14

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Steam rose from

the vents along

the northwest

flank of Mount

Pinatubo in June,

1991.
Arayat remained placid. Pinatubo, a small,

smoking hill, its top barely visible above the surrounding jungle eight miles west of Clark, was

the bad boy.

In PVO, the drums kept turn i n g .

Earthquakes under the volcano started to come

in swarms, although they still could not be felt

on the base. The gathering of green + marks on

the graphic depiction screen was getting thicker

and thicker. A clear pattern was starting to

develop. A “chimney” was forming vertically

from several miles below the surface. The chimney pointed directly upwards toward a small

fault line that was the source of the open steam

vents on Pinatubo’s northwest

flank.

By May 20, Murphy and

White had given considerable

thought to how an evacuation

might be conducted, and

Colonel Grime was ready to

start serious planning for an

evacuation.20

Colonel Grime met with

his vice wing commander,

Colonel Anderegg, and gave his instructions for

initial contingency planning to start. He wanted

to structure emergency responses to the volcano

similar to emergency actions with which the

base populace was already familiar. He instructed the vice commander to form a crisis action

team from the principal commanders across the

base. The goals were simple and straightforward. First, and foremost, there would be no

loss of life. Military members, their families,

and other base employees must be kept out of

harm’s way at any cost. Second, every plan must

assume that the worst could happen. Third, all

military and personal property must be protected, but protection of property was to take a complete back seat to keeping people safe.21 Further,

the vice wing commander would run emergency

actions from the command post, and the wing

commander would stay mobile around the base

so he would know what people were thinking

and doing. He emphasized that extreme care

must be exercised when passing information to

the general public. Nothing was to be said of an

official nature unless Colonel Rand was saying

it. Colonel Anderegg asked when Colonel

Murphy could put the USGS team on television

to educate people dire c t l y. Colonel Grime

replied, “Not yet.” He was still not convinced

such a display would not cause more problems

than it would solve.22

At this point, everyone, including the

USGS-PHIVOLCS team, was unsure what course

the volcano might take. At any moment, the

pressure building inside the mountain could

reach an area of over-arching rock that was

stronger than the pressure. If so, the activity

would cease. Simply stated, the volcano might

go back to sleep.

Colonel Grime was especially skeptical

that the volcano would continue towards an

explosion.23 The volcanologists freely admitted

that Pinatubo, like all volcanoes, was difficult to

predict. They stressed in their educational discussions that everyone had to view the volcanic

activity in geological rather than calendar time.

The few weeks of Pinatubo’s activity were a

nano-second in geological terms. The activity

could go on for years before resolution.

Colonel Grime insisted

that information about any

plans be kept low-key and

there be no speculation from

anyone credible about what

might happen with the volcano. Information about the

volcano would be passed

through the chain of command

so that it came from him to the

g roup commanders, to the

squadron commanders, to the first sergeants, and

then to the troops. The wing commander could

make, and would make, hard decisions when

needed. However, he insisted on having complete information before deciding.

Typically, the duty of crisis action team

commander falls to the installation’s host vice

wing commander, in this case Colonel Anderegg.

Usually, the CAT’s membership is composed of

essential leaders from all organizations on the

base. Following his meeting with Colonel

Grime, the 3d TFW vice commander called a

meeting with those who would comprise the

CAT should the volcano’s activity reach a level

that threatened the base.

15

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

The author, Dick

Anderegg, gives

instructions to

members of

the team.

The real question was

how far would people

have to go to be safe
This first planning meeting assembled in

the 3 TFW conference room and, in a meeting

that lasted nearly two hours, laid the groundwork for everything to follow. The officers gathered around the table represented every major

area of the base. Col John Murphy--support

group; Col Dave Ray--flight operations; Lt Col

Hank Camacho--aircraft maintenance; Col Hal

Garland--logistics; Col Jim Goodman--civil engineering; Col Bill Dassler--security police; Col Al

Garcia--communications; Col Brian Duffy--hospital; Col Bill Meeboer--Cope Thunder; Col Lee

Hess--special operations; and Col Randy Miller--

supply.

As the vice wing commander looked

around the long conference table, it occurred to

him that they were an exceptionally fine group

of officers. Goodman had commanded three

civil engineering squadrons before coming to

Clark. His 3d Civil Engineering Squadron was

the largest of its kind in the Air Force, numbering some 1,000 members.24 Meeboer, Ray, and

Hess were deeply experienced aviators with

exceptional records. Duffy ran one of the largest

hospitals in the western Pacific. In fact, every

officer at the table had been handpicked for his

job because of the large size of the units at Clark

and the special demands of a large, remote overseas base.

The vice wing commander explained the

charter from the wing commander: no loss of

life; protection of property subordinate to keeping troops out of harm’s way. They were there

to formulate contingency plans for emergency

response to the volcano. He reiterated. The first

priority was no casualties. Not one. Nada. Zip.

Dave Harlow, from the USGS team, presented a brief summary of Pinatubo’s activities.

Rick Hoblitt, the rock hound, sat beside him.

Harlow, who had no beard, had rotated in to

replace Dr. Newhall as the team’s chief. Hoblitt,

Tom Murray, and Ed Wolfe were also relatively

new arrivals. The USGS was planning for the

long haul by changing out its people every 30

days or so. Harlow stressed the point that at any

time all activity in the mountain could cease if

the rising magma encountered a layer of rock

that it could not fracture. On the other hand, if

eruptions should occur there was no way at that

time to predict when or how big they might be.

The volcanologists were using their standard warning system. The area around Pinatubo

was at Alert Level 2, which meant the volcano

could eventually erupt. Alert Condition 3, if

implemented, would mean eruption was possible within two weeks. Condition 4 meant an

eruption was possible within 24 hours, and level

1 meant an eruption was in progress.25 The system was in use by both USGS and PHIVOLCS,

and Harlow suggested the Air Force use the

same system.26

The meeting consensus was not to use the

same system. Base people were familiar with

the typhoon warning system that numbered its

levels exactly the opposite of the USGSPHIVOLCS system. Ultimately, the base developed a simple scale to mirror the VolCon system.

The CAT discussed how to move people

away from the eruption. Mount Pinatubo was

8.2 miles from base housing along the western

wall. The real question was how far people

would have to go to be safe.

Dave Harlow said it was hard to predict.

Of course, everything depended on how big the

eruption, if it erupted, would be. He apologized

for seeming evasive, but there were many

unknowns remaining, and even if a ton of data

went through analysis, the best guess would

come from past eruptions. Someone jokingly

asked Harlow how far away he intended to be if

it blew, and his laughing response was,

“California!”

Rick Hoblitt’s preliminary surveys showed

that the newest pyroclastic deposits were in both

riverbeds on either side of the base, but they did

not go much past the very closest part of the base

to Pinatubo. As for older pyroclastic flows,

Clark was built on them.

16

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Table 2-1

Clark Air Base Volcano Warning System

Concern Moderate level of seismic

activity

Eruption possible within the

next year

Caution Volcanic unrest increasing

Low possibility of eruption

within two weeks

Warning Volcanic unrest extremely

high

If seismic trend persists or

increases, higher possibility

of eruption within two weeks

Emergency Intense volcanic unrest

Eruption possible within 24

hours and evacuation determined necessary
17

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Harlow indicated that 20 kilometers might

p rovide a 99 percent certainty of safety.

Immediately, several of the non-aviator CAT

members suggested he speak in miles, not metrics. Harlow spread a large map of the area on

the conference table and ran his finger in an arc

12 miles from the mountain. The 12-mile arc

came through the flightline. He traced another

arc at 15 miles. This line came through the base

at nearly the east wall, area that was still on the

base and the most distant from the volcano.

Everyone was standing, leaning over the

large map on the table. The staff, several of

whom were fighter pilots, were unwilling to

accept a goal of 99 percent safety. One of them gave a brief

tutorial on statistics. In the

fighter business, pilots study

their weapons in minute detail.

Each can tell you, for example,

that under certain circ u mstances, his heat-seeking

Sidewinder missile has a probability of kill of 65 percent.

One can view that number two

ways. If you are the shooter, it

means 65 percent of the time

you shoot down the target. If

you are the other pilot, though,

in the target airplane, it means

that 65 percent of the time you are 100 percent

dead.

Everyone agreed that any plan must move

people to an area where they would be safe; not

statistically safe, perfectly safe. For the time

being, the 12-mile arc, which was in a very large

open area at the extreme eastern edge of the base

looked good.

A long discussion ensued about moving

people to safe areas. At this point, all the discussions were centered on a scenario in which

the mountain exploded in a huge blast as had

Mount Saint Helens. Everyone, including the

volcanologists, viewed that as the worst possible

case.

A warning system was already available.

The base was equipped with a siren system

mounted on towers throughout the facility.

Whenever the base exercised its war time ability

to survive and operate while under enemy

attack, the sirens sounded alerting all of an

imminent air attack. Also, there was a “Giant

Voice” system of loudspeakers mounted on the

same towers that could be used to pass instructions. Giant Voice was seldom used, but it was

operational and available. Of course, FEN television and radio was available in every home

and work area. Therefore, warning people to

move to a safe area was no problem--if there was

enough time.

The scientists and the colonels discussed

the time factor and the warning system. The

military men, in their continuous quest for cutand-dried answers, wanted the USGS scientists

to be specific about how they thought things

might progress.

The beards resisted. They encouraged the

military men to slow their thinking a little. The

issue was a volcano. Geological events usually

proceed slowly. The process of moving to an

eruption could take many, many months if it

happened at all. Although the activity at

Pinatubo clearly was moving at a relatively rapid

pace, the pace could slow, or stop, or even

reverse itself at any time.

A very important point

was made; one that would play

throughout the Pinatubo experience. Those who did not

understand this point would

never understand some important later decisions. Harlow

explained that if an alert level

was reached that indicated the

possibility of an eruption within 24 hours, but the volcano

did not erupt, then there could

be a very long period before the

USGS would be confident

enough to back the level down to a lower one.

There was no way to predict how long that

would take. The USGS warning system indicated the delay might be as long as a week, but the

scientists were skeptical it could be done that

quickly.

The implications of this point were clear to

the CAT. If the mountain got to what the Air

Force had termed the “Emergency level,” and

the CAT ordered everyone to go to an area across

the runways, then they could be there for weeks.

The CAT discussed the possibility of a tent

city but quickly dismissed the idea as impractical. A tent city was sustainable for the short

term but not for weeks on end. An evacuation

for a short time to a tent city might be reasonable, but it seemed to the CAT that a second

evacuation to a more sustainable location must

follow. To where? How?

The “how” was easy because there was

only one answer. Each person would have to

drive his or her privately owned vehicle (POV).

It was the only way to move 15,000 people

quickly. Moreover, people could carry whatever

equipment and supplies they needed and wanted in their cars with them. Children would be

with parents. For those who did not own cars,

mostly young airmen who lived in the dormitories, there were enough motor pool buses to handle them.

In a perfect world the

evacuation would occur

over a weekend. Most

thought it was far too

much to hope for
The “where” question was much more difficult. One-by-one the staff eliminated possibilities. Wallace Air Station, a small USAF facility

a few hours drive to the north was far too small

to handle the numbers of people involved.

Manila was only two hours drive away, but

the prospect of dumping 15,000 people there

was too complex to organize under the best of

circumstances, let alone in an emergency. The

services squadron had already checked with

hotels in Manila. They would not make room by

canceling other customer’s reservations even if

the base was in an emergency situation.

Finally, the CAT staff agreed that Colonels

Murphy and White

had chosen the logical alternative: the

Navy complex at

Subic Bay. Subic

Bay was about a

two-hour drive and

some 25 miles

from the volcano.

Two bases sat on

the bay: Naval

Station Subic Bay

and Naval Air

Station Cubi Point.

Even though the

bases were not

large in area, they

held about the

same population as

Clark. At least

everyone could have shelter there until the situation stabilized at Clark. Once the smoke

cleared, several options would be available.

If Clark was habitable, a re-occupation of

the base was possible by slowly bringing people

home. However, Dave Harlow’s point was well

taken that it could be a long stay until USGS

backed off its warning level, especially if an

evacuation to Subic Bay was ordered and the

mountain did not erupt. Since Naval Station

Subic Bay was a deep-water port and the adjacent Naval Air Station Cubi Point had an

airstrip, a permanent evacuation to the United

States could be staged from Subic Bay if Clark

was uninhabitable, or if the emergency level

held steady for an extended period.

The group continued to discuss the myriad

problems to be faced. Col Brian Duffy, the hospital commander, expressed his immediate concern for the non-ambulatory hospital patients.

Clark was home to a huge regional medical center. They would have to be moved early since

they could not respond quickly.

Duffy did some quick math aloud concerning pregnant women. From a population of several thousand young families, how many women

are in their last tri-mesters, or even their last

month? Answer: dozens. Duffy added that he

had already started the wheels rolling to earmark

medical evacuation (Medevac) aircraft to move

patients on short notice.

Colonel Murphy, the support group commander, or city manager as civilians would call

him, was an outstanding officer. Young, energetic, and full of ideas, he enjoyed an excellent

reputation throughout the base population. He

always seemed to know what people were saying and thinking in the community, and he was

very bothered about the lack of information on

the volcano.

Murphy outlined

the spadework

that he and White

had already completed. He suggested that the

leadership start

making public

s e r v i c e

a n n o u n c e m e n t s

on FEN about

what was happening with the

volcano.

The CAT

c o m m a n d e r

rejected Murphy’s

s u g g e s t i o n .

Information about

the volcano was already being passed through

the chain of command and other means such as

commander’s call, staff meetings, first sergeants’

meetings and chiefs’ meetings. Murphy did not

think this method was working. He stated that

rumors were flying. People were stopping him

on the street to ask what was going on with the

volcano. Murphy’s position was that the rumors

were making the volcano worse than it actually

was.

The volcano was at the bottom of the warning hierarchy for both the USGS and the base

warning systems. The scientists were still gathering information and were uncertain which

direction it would go. There was a fine line

between preparing for a possible evacuation and

t h rowing everyone into a “get me on that

lifeboat” state of mind.

The task of controlling traffic fell to Col

Bill Dassler, Clark’s security police group commander and “Top Cop.” Dassler was a superb

leader and commander. He was a very big man

with a full shock of white hair, bushy eyebrows,

and confidence in his ability to lead his men. He

smoked unfiltered Camels in a day when it was

18

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
politically incorrect to smoke. Someone long

ago had told him the secret to leadership was to

keep your men out of the sun and make sure the

horses have water. He believed it and practiced

it every day. When he said in his gravelly voice

that he could get something done, all believed

him.

His first job was to conceive a plan to get

everyone to the flightline area that was just outside the 12-mile ring from the volcano. The aircraft-parking apron provided a vast expanse of

concrete to marshal vehicles for further movement to another area. Dassler was very confident at the first planning meeting that his security police could handle any traffic situation

they might encounter. Some were concerned

that once the evacuation started the 250,000

locals in towns surrounding the base would

panic and take to the roads at the same time.

“Don't worry about that,” said Dassler,

“we're already working with the INP (Integrated

National Police) to make sure the roads stay

open.”

After much discussion, the CAT agreed

upon a philosophy that would drive future planning. If the mountain progressed to the point

that dictated an evacuation, it was all or nothing.

Once people started moving, they would have to

keep moving to a place where they could be

sheltered and fed for an extended time: Subic

Bay.

Murphy stopped the meeting cold for a

moment when he asked, "What if we have to do

this during the day?” Husbands would be at

work, children in school, people in the base

exchange and commissary, mothers out running

errands, house-girls minding small children, offduty troops playing golf. It would be “a chocolate mess,” as the world famous fighter pilot,

Steep Turner, would say.

The group determined that an evacuation,

under the best circumstances, must be

announced the night before then executed early

in the morning while most families were together. They could pack their cars and leave together. If they had to evacuate suddenly, during a

workday, it would be chaotic with mothers trying to find children, husbands trying to find families. In a perfect world, the evacuation would

occur over a weekend. Most thought it was far

too much to hope for.

Bricks

Col Al Garcia, communications squadron

commander, reviewed the emergency communications capability of the base. A very capable

hand-held radio network of 600 “bricks,” called

a trunked land mobile radio system, was already

in place. “Brick” was a nickname that had originated in the day when hand-held radios were

the same size and weight as a brick. Clark’s were

a new style that gave users the capability not

only to talk with each other in walkie-talkie

fashion, but also to make telephone calls.

Brick users used call signs rather than

names, ranks or duty titles. At most Air Force

bases, people on the command net used a common call sign followed by a number which indicated the user’s place in the pecking order of

rank stru c t u re. For example, at Seymour

Johnson Air Force Base, North Carolina, the

wing patch featured a fierce lion. So, the wing

commander’s call sign on the command net

brick was Lion 1; the vice wing commander was

Lion 2, and so on. At Clark, security concerns

dictated that call signs be less obvious so that

NPA terrorists would not be able to intercept a

radio call and know who was making it.

At Clark, General Studer was Gator;

Colonel Grime was Eagle. The CAT commander

(Colonel Anderegg) was Lucky, a nickname he

was given after narrowly surviving a crash many

years earlier. Dassler was Gladiator. Those

working in the command post used Hawkeye.

The bricks that Col Al Garcia, Wizard, maintained saved many lives and became nearly as

important as potable water. As the crisis unfolded the command structure of Clark came to

depend totally on the brick network, and as the

network expanded everyone on the base came to

know General Studer as Gator. Of course, military courtesy and discipline prevented anyone

from daring to call him that personally, but when

Gator, Eagle, or Lucky spoke on the net, everyone knew exactly who it was.

Strolling

Even while Clark’s leaders agonized over

scenario after scenario, the daily routines continued for the general population. High school

seniors looked forward to their graduation from

Wagner High School. Filipino house girls

played with children in playgrounds and yards

across the sprawling base housing areas. In the

evening, whole families strolled under the giant

acacias around the parade field. Some stopped

for an ice cream cone. When they stopped to

chat with others, the first question invariably

was, “What have you heard about that volcano?”

It was the question on everyone’s mind. As the

plume of steam got larger, so increased the

u n c e rtain, uneasy feelings of everyone who

looked at the ominous beacon every morning on

the way to work, school, or play.

19

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
NOTES TO CHAPTER 2

1 Interview, James Boyd with author, November 2, 1998, notes on file

AF/HO, Bolling AFB, DC [hereafter cited as Boyd interview].

2 Interview, John E. Murphy with author, November 10, 1998, audio

tape at AF/HO, Bolling AFB, DC [hereafter cited as Murphy interview]. 

3 Interview, Dr. Raymundo S. Punongbayan with author, November 2,

1998, audio tape at AF/HO, Bolling AFB, DC [hereafter cited as Punong -

bayan interview].

4 Punongbayan interview.

5 E-mail, Christopher G. Newhall to author, October 21, 1998 [here -

after cited as Newhall email].

6 Ibid.

7 Author's journal.

8 Fire and Mud, p 215.

9 Newhall email.

10 Interview, Major General Jeffrey R. Grime with author, February 22,

1999 [hereafter cited as Grime interview 1999].

11 Journal, Richard P. Hoblitt, David A. Johnston Cascades Volcano

Observatory, 5400 MacArthur Boulevard, Vancouver, WA, 98661 [here -

after cited as Hoblitt notes].

12 Fire and Mud, p 210.

13 Author's journal.

14 Letter, Dr. Christopher G. Newhall to C. R. Anderegg, 27 July 1996

[hereafter cited as Newhall letter, 27 July].

15 Interview, Col Jeffrey R. Grime with Dr. Tim Keck, June 10, 1992,

transcript and audio tape at PACAF/HO, Hickam AFB, HI [hereafter cited

as Grime interview 1992].

16 Newhall letter, 27 July.

17 Ibid.

18 Hoblitt notes.

19 Murphy interview.

20 Ibid.

21 Grime interview 1992.

22 Ibid.

23 Ibid. 

24 Goodman interview.

25 Fire and Mud, p 90.

26 Philippine Flyer, Vol. 39 No. 22, 7 June 1991, p 5.

20

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
Chapter 3

Throughout the rest of May, commanders and scientists watched the volcano very closely from the base house, named PVO, where the volcanologists lived and worked. On May 17,

the USGS-PHIVOLCS team met with senior officers on the base to review the situation and discuss possible scenarios. By this time, the scientists had confirmed what they suspected earlier in the month. Pinatubo displayed every sign of being an explosive volcano. They were

unsure if the volcano would erupt, but if it did, it would be a big one.1

They presented a probability tree – a schematic drawing that displayed the possible

courses the volcano might take and the probabilities of each course. The discussion about the

probability tree was academic, but the ensuing information given by the geologists emphasized

the gravity of the situation.2 They confirmed that pyroclastic flows had come down the Clark

side of the volcano. All the prehistoric eruptions were big. There was a chance, albeit small,

that the base would be swept by pyroclastic flows. 

Within the base’s general population, few were able to grasp the concept that what

looked like a small hill barely discernable from its neighboring mounds was a real threat to

life and property. Additionally, the farther one got from Clark the harder it seemed to comprehend a scenario that might require an evacuation of non-essential military personnel and

all dependents.

In mid May, General Jimmie V. Adams, the Pacific Air Forces Commander, visited Clark

Air Base. It was his first visit as the PACAF Commander to Clark, and it was part of a routine

first visit to his bases in the Western Pacific. Part of his itinerary called for a helicopter tour

of the Cope Thunder exercise area along Crow Valley. He was escorted on the flight by General

Studer. As they left Crow Valley, Studer told Adams he wanted to show him the steam coming out of Pinatubo, so the helicopter flew the few miles to the volcano. General Adams saw

the steam and could smell the sulfur in the air. He asked Studer what it meant. Studer told

him, “Well, they think this is going to be an active volcano soon.” When General Adams then

asked how long it had been since the last eruption, the Thirteenth Air Force Commander told

him, “600 years.” General Adams recalls not being concerned at that point.3 Following

General Adams’ visit to Clark, the CAT commander received numerous calls from officers stationed at the PACAF headquarters in Hawaii. Many were curiosity seekers, some offered assistance, but a few carried a common message. “Chicken Little said the sky was falling, and it

didn’t. Are you that worried?”4

Geology 102

Geology lessons from the volcanologists continued. They discussed ash fall, which usually was like talcum powder with a very fine texture and very abrasive. If a car engine ingested it through the air filter, the abrasion scoured the cylinders and ruined the engine. The base

was already receiving documentation from Air Force bases in Washington State and Alaska

that had experienced a light dusting of ash from nearby volcanoes. People near Mount Saint

Helens found they needed to change their oil and air filters every few hundred miles.

DRUM WATCH

The eruption became

more evident...

21

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
Because the ash was so fine, it would work

its way into everything, including computers

and electrical equipment. It was highly conductive, so it could easily short out electrical equipment. Telephone systems and electrical transformers were especially vulnerable, the beards

lectured.

The ash itself was not life threatening,

although people in the area might experience

upper respiratory irritation and eye irritation.

They added that inhaling the ash might exacerbate asthma or other chronic breathing problems.

Of course, the most dangerous aspect of an eruption

was the pyroclastic flows that

can come boiling down the

mountainside. However, the

lesson continued, another

major danger was rain. If the

ash is wet, it could be very dangerous because it could hold a

lot of water. Newhall was very

concerned that wet ash might

cause real problems in the

local community since so

many of the buildings had flat

roofs. Wet ash might cause roofs to cave in if

there is a lot of it. Wet ash was like very wet

beach sand, holding a volume of water nearly

equal to its dry volume.

One scientist offered an example. Place

two empty drinking glasses on the table. Fill one

with dry, powdery sand and the other with

water. Now dump the water from one into the

other with the sand. The sand will absorb all but

a small amount of the water, and the weight of

the glass will be equal to both before the water

was transferred. Now, imagine a few thousand

of those glasses standing on a roof.5

Newhall brought a videotape that demonstrated volcanic hazards. The tape showed enormous pyroclastic flows of gray, superh e a t e d

clouds of ash spilling down mountainsides.

C l e a r l y, nothing could survive such an

onslaught. The camera panned across wide

fields of pyroclastic deposits left in the wake of

the pyroclastic flows. Everything was buried

and the flow was still smoking.

If the views of the pyroclastic flows were

not sobering enough, the tape went on to discuss

the dangers of lahars. If ash on the ground gets

wet enough, the whole mess will run through

watersheds like flash floods of wet concrete.

The phenomenon was called a lahar. If the ash

was still hot, it was a hot lahar.

During an eruption, the rising heat from a

volcano frequently produced large thunderstorms near the volcano. As the ash covered the

g round, rain from the thunderstorms would

supersaturate the ash. If the whole mess became

heavy enough and wet enough, it would start

running down rivers and streams with sometimes devastating results.

Lahars could be a deadly problem for

years, perhaps decades, after a volcano stopped

e rupting. Large ash and pyroclastic flow

deposits could absorb vast quantities of rainwater. If the ash became wet enough, huge slabs,

like icebergs of wet cement, might scab away

causing an instant flash flood. Nonetheless,

everyone’s main concern was the devastation

pyroclastic flows might cause.

Since it was the dry season,

lahars were a secondary concern.6

The video, which had

e v e ry o n e ’s undivided attention, was made by Maurice

Krafft and his wife. The Kraffts

w e re famous in volcanology

c i rcles for their spectacular

photography of erupting volcanoes. It was easy to see from

the video that the Kraffts had

put themselves in some very dangerous spots

over the years to record the breath-taking images

on the tape. The Kraffts were scheduled to come

to visit their friend, Chris Newhall, at Clark late

in May. They never made it. They were killed in

Japan by a pyroclastic flow from Mount Unzen.

They died at nearly the same time their video

was educating the people of Clark Air Base and

the surrounding Filipino communities.7

Colonel Grime ordered a comprehensive

education of the base to begin. Colonels Murphy

and Rand started an all-out program. They took

briefings to every organization on and off the

base they could schedule. They went to first sergeants’ meetings, school teachers’ sessions, the

Retirees’ Activities Office, commanders’ calls

and recreational club meetings. At every meeting, they encountered deep skepticism. Murphy

had a series of slides; taken at five-day intervals

that showed how the steam plumes had grown

and become darker as ash mixed with the steam.

Some listeners took him seriously, but many

crossed their arms and appeared unconvinced.

The community was callous to emergencies, or

in this case, possible emergencies.8 The yearlong series of earthquakes, typhoons, government worker strikes, assassinations, and frequent restrictions to the base and quarters had

taken its toll on morale. It was very low.

Murphy, Rand, and others who tried to educate

people about the volcano often met blank stares

that said, “Not again!”9

22

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

...some thought we were

over-reacting and some

thought we were

under-reacting
Those who listened with care and open

minds realized the danger, and what they heard

scared them.10 Rumor control was a primary

function of the public affairs office that was led

by Colonel Rand. One tool they used was a

rumor control hotline that concerned people

could call and leave questions. The base newspaper, the Philippine Flyer, then published a

representative cross section of answers in an

attempt to disseminate the truth. The answers

were given in a section of the paper named “Just

the Facts.” A longer version of questions and

answers was broadcast on an FEN radio program

that Rand personally hosted. In a very short

time, the hotline at “Just the Facts” was saturated with questions solely about the volcano.11 At

its peak, the hotline was getting 600 calls a week,

an “astronomical” number.

12

Despite these efforts to get the ungarbled

truth in front of the base populace, the troops

did not believe they were getting enough information.13 By the end of May, the volcano was

belching small clouds of ash that everyone could

see, and the volcano became the topic of conversation at every opportunity. Colonel Grime was

off the base on a business trip, and Colonel

Murphy approached Colonel Anderegg, the vice

wing commander, about putting a USGS scientist on FEN-TV to educate those who were not

getting the word through the chain of command.

Anderegg agreed.14

Colonel Rand’s own words best describe

the situation. “At the end of May. . . everything

we were doing didn’t seem to be providing

enough information . . . they wanted more . . .

because the mountain was beginning to look

more volatile. We decided to have a news special, an evening news special in which I went on

as the host and head geologist Chris Newhall

went on with me, and we spent the first 25 minutes talking about what’s going on with the

mountain and what it might be doing.”

“We played it on a Thursday evening,”

Colonel Rand continued, “and it was very well

received. People called in and asked that it be

replayed. So I did once a day or once every

other day, people called in, put it on at different

hours . . . personal contact with groups like

churches, wives clubs, wherever people were

gathered together in groups. I can remember

schools on base, the elementary, middle and

high school asked us whether we could come

out and talk. We did that. Anybody wanted

somebody to come out and talk to them, we did

that. We worked the newspaper hard; we

worked the chain of command . . . the first sergeants and chiefs. General Studer’s philosophy

was you ought to have one spokesman and that

way one message gets out so basically when it

was time to talk about the volcano or the plans,

he (Studer) would say, okay, and we’d tell them

what we know.”

In this venture Colonel Rand had unlimited access to General Studer, Colonel Grime, and

Colonel Murphy. Colonel Murphy actually hosted the first sergeants’ meetings. Colonel Grime,

the wing commander, had the commanders’

meetings. They would each make their pitch

and make their points and make their message,

but then they’d make sure that the public affairs

spokesperson had an opportunity to say that’s

exactly what we told the chiefs.

Colonel Rand concluded his assessment in

this way: “So, we worked it pretty hard, so I

think we had a pretty informed community . . .

yet a wound-up community and the winding-up

was, I think, . . .kind of the icing on the cake and

that really put a lot of people over [the edge].

The horrible anxiety. But you never had a consensus. With the restrictions or with the volcano

. . . some thought we were over-reacting and

some thought we were under-reacting.”15

Newhall’s assessment of the effect of his

televised presentation differs somewhat from

Rand’s. Newhall wrote: “My interview on FEN

around the end of May seems, in retrospect, to be

too reassuring . . . . I could and should have

been more blunt about the possible risk, but I

don’t think I could have been any more definite

about what was to happen, or when. At that

time, the volcano hadn’t started down its

unequivocal path to eruption, and we try hard to

avoid false alarms because the next time, when

people really need to pay attention, they

won’t.”16

Credibility was a great concern for both the

USGS staff and commanders at Clark. Newhall

continued, “The odds were against a successful

forecast. And, even if we got the forecast right,

we still had to worry about whether people

23

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

The Silver Wings

Community

Recreation

Center.
would actually heed the warnings. From my

perspective, it was a very close call. You’ll recall

the skepticism on the base, and that was just as

high among politicians and most other community leaders outside the base. The Krafft video

slowly began to grab people’s attention, as did a

variety of other little things on and off base . . .

we had the huge advantage for folks at Clark

that, if the command said move, everyone would

move. No endless debate.”17

Grime, the wing commander, felt the same

pressure. If he ordered an evacuation, and the

mountain did not erupt, all credibility would be

lost. “I had this vision,” Grime said, “of one

night sitting there in bed and .

. . seeing 15,000 people in front

of the house with tar, feathers

and a pole escorting me off the

base after they had returned.”18

General Studer called his

boss, General Adams, and told

Adams that the base was making plans to evacuate. General

Adams recalled, “I’m thinking

he is a good conscientious

commander, but maybe he is

leaning a little too forward in

the chocks. I don’t understand

what the real problem is. My

frame of reference, having been

down to the big island [where]

you see the molasses coming

down the volcano when it finally erupts. And it

takes days and days for it to finally get down to

the ocean.”19 Studer told General Adams that Dr.

Newhall, who was rotating back to the states,

would stop in Hawaii and brief him. The briefing had the desired effect. Adams remembers

that Newhall told him the base could be

engulfed in pyroclastic flow within 20 minutes

of an eruption.

Last of the Phantom Jets

By the end of May, an eruption still did not

appear to be imminent, and the geologists could

say little or nothing about how much longer the

unrest could continue before escalating or dying

off. However, over the next several days, the

earthquakes nudged even closer to the surface

and the amount of ash in the steam plume gradually increased.20

By June 4, 1991 only three of the 3 TFW’s

F-4, Phantom II, fighter jets remained at Clark.

The others had not been flown out to avoid the

volcano; rather, the elimination of the aircraft

was part of a planned drawdown directed by the

Pentagon the previous year.

F-4 Phantoms were the backbone of

PACAF’s fighter forces since the

end of the Vietnam War, and the

ones at Clark were PA C A F ’s

last. Throughout the first

months of 1991, the proud war

birds flew by twos and threes

back to Davis Monthan Air

Force Base, Arizona, there to be

decommissioned and interred

in the bone yard for excess Air

Force equipment.

The flight out of Clark

that morning was led by the 3

TFW vice wing commander,

Col Dick Anderegg, and his

back-seater, Maj Hugh Riley, in

F-4E tail number 1085.

Maintenance crews had buffed

the jet to a high sheen, and as Anderegg taxied

slowly out of the aircraft’s protective shelter,

they were greeted by waving American flags and

waving people along one side of the taxiway. On

the other side of the taxiway, maintenance

t roops stood at rigid attention, shoulder to

shoulder. Each snapped off sharp hand salutes

as the flight leader and the other two jets moved

slowly through the cordon of well-wishers.

The flight leader’s call sign was Clan 11.

In Clan 12 were Capt Mike Trinchitella and his

backseater, Capt Robert Ricarte; and Clan 13 was

flown by Maj Howard Hendricks and his backseater, Maj Jimmy Miyamoto. The jets thundered

down the new runway one by one, then as the

leader made a gentle left turn to the north, the

wingmen joined up in close formation. After

another left turn to align with the runway, Clan

11 flight flew by the base and departed to the

southeast. There was not a dry eye in the house.

2 0

Hurried Preparations

Meanwhile, evacuation planning was

going on at a frantic pace. Colonels Murphy and

White, no longer operating covertly, worked

with Col Brian Duffy, the hospital administrator.

On the same day the F-4s left, several thousand

patient records from the hospital were gathered

24

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

The movement of

the last three F-4s

was part of a

planned draw -

down, not an

evacuation.

...Colonel Grime contin -

ued to be concerned

that an evacuation under

panic conditions could

kill more people than

the volcano
up, and loaded onto buses. All were airlifted out

of Clark to other Pacific bases for safekeeping.22

Duffy, like Murphy, was being as pro-active as

possible.

On June 5, increasing numbers of earthquakes, an ominous decrease in the amount of

sulfur in the air, and increasing ash accumulations at Pinatubo’s summit spurred Dave Harlow

to tell Colonel Grime that the team was upping

the alert level to 3, indicating a 50 percent possibility of an eruption within two weeks. Part of

this action was based on the observation of a

“spine” on the volcano’s flank that could have

been an indication of magma just below the surface. John Ewert’s tiltmeters and other indications showed the mountain was bulging a little.

However, the warning also acknowledged the

possibility that they might have to go back down

to level 2. The next day, Rick Hoblitt looked

more closely at the “spine,” first noticed by

Andy Lockhart, and realized it was an old rock

formation, a remnant. However, even though the

team lost a little credibility with the wing commander, Colonel Grime, they elected to stay at

alert level 3 until other indicators had an opportunity to show that the mountain was cooling

down. That never happened. In fact, the seismic activity indicators continued to increase,

and the sulfur emissions decreased dramatically

– a possible sign that the mountain was building

pressure rather than venting it into the air.

23

About 10,000 Aeta tribesmen moved from their

homes high on Mount Pinatubo into the evacuation camps located in safer areas.24

Clark commanders were caught flat-footed

by the sudden increase in volcanic activity. Two

days later, in the last regular edition of the

Philippine Flyer, the base warning level was still

shown at the benign “Concern” level, which

indicated an eruption possible within the next

year.

25 However, the paper also contained a volcano checklist and a checklist for departing

housing.*

The volcano checklist was merely a modification of existing checklists contained in

worldwide NEO (non-combatant evacuation

order) plans designed to evacuate dependents

from zones threatened by combat. The checklists were also sprinkled with advice from pamphlets Colonels Murphy and White obtained

from Air Force bases that had experienced some

light ash fall in the United States. For example,

operating air conditioners would suck the ash

indoors. If the air handlers pulled enough ash

inside, then electric appliances might short out.

Instructions to leave some interior lights and all

exterior lights on were there to assist security

forces’ efforts to control looting.

Alongside the checklist, words from the

public affairs office described the situation.

“Scientists monitoring the mountain recorded a

slight increase in seismic activity re c e n t l y.

However, based on information provided by the

experts, base officials see no requirement to

change Clark’s alert level at this time.

Consequently, we’re still at the concerned level,

which is a planning stage. The experts remain

confident that we’re not in imminent danger and

that we’ll have plenty of advance warning before

a large-scale eruption.”26

Suddenly, a conflict between the USGS

warning system and the preparations of the base

became evident. The USGS warning was at least

two steps ahead of the one that base commanders were using. However, the base was not prepared for an evacuation. No real plan had been

revealed to the base populace, and Subic Bay

was not prepared to accept 15,000 visitors in one

gulp.

Colonel Murphy, Colonel White, Maj

Shevon Peete, Lt Col Ed Connor, and others doubled their efforts to prepare for an evacuation.

Peete and Connor returned to Subic Bay to discuss the situation with their counterpart s .

Murphy and White coordinated with Colonel

Dassler, the “Top Cop,” their ideas of how best to

move the largest Air Force overseas installation

out of harm’s way at a moment’s notice.

They divided the base into sectors and prioritized each according to its proximity to the

volcano or the likelihood of pyroclastic flow or

lahar exposure. The plan would be to get

Mactan housing, which was only 8 miles from

the volcano, out first. The Hill residents would

25

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

* Tables 3-1 and 3-2 contain these checklists.

Cash for each family member

(both cash and pesos)

ID cards, passports/visas

Ration cards (CEX)

Immunization records

Birth certificates

Marriage certificates

Toiletries

Three sets of clothing for each

family member

For pregnant women: physician's

certification of pregnancy, stating expected date of delivery

Pillow and blanket or sleeping bag

for each individual

Vehicle registration and car insurance policies

Checkbook/bank book/credit cards

Personal insurance policies

Inventory of all household goods

Wills

Personal medications

Infant care items (diapers, toys,

formula, portable crib, stroller,

etc)

Water supply for one day

Food/snacks for one day

Food for pets (3 days) and leash

POVs should have one-half to

three-fourths tank of fuel

Flashlight with spare batteries

Portable radio with spare batteries

Candles/matches

Bug repellant

Sunscreen, hats, etc.

First aid kit, knife, rope, tool kit

Toilet paper

Table 3-1 Volcano Checklist

* Turn off all air conditioners/central air or other ventilation

devices.

* Turn off electric ranges, washers,

and dryers. Keep refrigerator

and freezers on.

* Close all windows.

* Leave some interior and all exterior lights on.

* Lock all external doors.

Table 3-2 Steps for Leaving Quarters
be followed by housing areas on the base’s flanks

that were closest to the rivers on either side of

the base.

Each area would have 90 minutes to evacuate before the following area hit the roads.

Each family would drive its own car and carry

anything they wanted as long as it fit in the car.

The evacuation route would flow down three

main streets of the base then out onto the aircraft

parking apron. By this time, all the 3d Tactical

Fighter Wing aircraft were gone, and the 353d

Special Operations Wing was moving its aircraft

with the last scheduled to depart on June 9.

There was plenty of room to marshal the vehicles on the flightline and then move them to a

choice of gates exiting the base. The choice of

gates would be made based on what the volcano

was doing. If it were erupting, gates near the

river would be closed, although some of them

were a more direct route to Subic Bay.

While cars were marshaling on the parking

apron, workers would gather data from each car

such as the occupants’ names and relationships.

Water and other simple, but valuable, supplies

would be issued to each vehicle. Evacuation

planners had no doubt traffic on the highway to

Subic would be very slow. The road was in poor

condition, and the traffic on it was always slow.

Another few thousand cars entering the highway

likely would bring the pace to a creep.

Dassler and his men coordinated with the

Filipino Integrated National Police and the

Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) police to

control the traffic. Most planners expected thousands of locals would follow the Americans to

the Navy base southwest of Clark thus further

congesting the clogged highway.

The confusion between the USGS warning

system and Clark’s continued. On June 7, a

dome appeared on Pinatubo’s northwest face.

Increased seismic activity and the extruding

dome prompted the volcanologists to increase

the warning level to alert level 4, possible eruption within 24 hours. Clark commanders

increased their warning level to “eruption possible within 2 weeks.”27

All of this is not to say Clark commanders

w e re overriding USGS scientists’ decisions.

Rather, the two had different agendas. The

USGS-PHIVOLCS team was concerned about

Clark’s people, but they were equally concerned

about the large Filipino population that was

much closer to the volcano. Even a small eruption could kill many thousand locals. The volcano, even as late as June 7, did not show signs

of a massive eruption that would threaten Clark.

Therefore, Clark officials, who were concerned

only for the welfare of its charges, were trying to

determine one thing and one thing only: when to

evacuate.

The political implications of an American

evacuation were enormous. The continuing discussions over basing rights and the cost of those

basing rights were tenuous. Many believed the

Philippines Senate would not vote to ratify a

new agreement with the United States to keep

Clark and the Navy bases at Subic Bay open. A

premature evacuation of the base might be interpreted as a signal that the Americans were trying

to bully the Philippine Senate by showing them

how bad the economy might become without

Americans spending their dollars there.

General Studer, who felt no political pressure, was not going to order an evacuation until

he was sure the volcano might become a threat to

American lives.28 For his part, Colonel Grime

continued to be concerned that an evacuation

under panic conditions could kill more people

than the volcano.29 Therefore, the disagreement

amounted to definitions of the size of the threat.

Any threat near the volcano triggered a USGS

elevation of the threat level. Clark, located eight

miles from the volcano, seemed to have a larger

margin of safety.

By June 9, the margin narrowed considerably. Pinatubo was getting hotter by the hour.

Earthquakes were coming in swarms across the

drums at PVO. A pyroclastic flow was reported

26

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

View of the gate

at Clark AB as

personnel were

evacuated before

the major erup -

tions and before

the ash fell. 

US Air Force Hospi -

tal at Clark AB.
in the Zambales, away from the base.

Technically, this amounted to an eruption, albeit

a very small one, and the USGS-PHIVOLCS team

upped their warning level to 5, eruption in

progress. General Studer and his forces stood

pat.30

Planning at Subic Bay was going at a frantic pace. However, everyone there representing

the Air Force knew they were woefully behind.

The fast pace of instability in the mountain had

caught up with them. Subic Bay was already

short 800 beds for the forces stationed there.

The two Navy bases’ electrical system was

stressed to the maximum, and large sections of

the power grid had to be turned

off everyday in order to give all

parts of the bases a “fair share”

of power. Water was rationed

as well.

3 1 The thought of

adding 15,000 more was nearly

incomprehensible. Plans were

made to use facilities at Naval

Air Station Cubi Point, the

Naval airfield adjunct of Subic

Bay, and housing in the San

Miguel housing area a few

miles north of Subic Bay, also

owned by the Navy.

32

Colonel Murphy and his group produced a

pamphlet that described the base evacuation

plan. Between June 7 and June 9 many thousand

were produced. Couriers delivered a pamphlet

to every home on the base and all the ones off

base that could be located. They placed stacks of

the pamphlets in the base exchange, the commissary, all the recreational clubs, the chapels

and work centers throughout the base.33

For several days, commanders on the base

were determining which people should remain

on the base. After several iterations, Colonel

Grime approved a listing that included Dassler’s

entire security police group of 960; a contingent

of civil engineers with expertise in electrical

power production, heavy equipment operators,

and fire department personnel; cooks; communications specialists; and the CAT, minus its commander who was rushing back to Clark after

delivering the wing’s last F-4 to the bone yard.

Altogether, the forces that were designated as

“mission essential” numbered about 1,200. The

mission essential team would not evacuate.

On the morning of June 9, General Studer

directed Colonel Rand to inform the base that a

decision would be made early the next morning

concerning the need to evacuate. The base

caught its first lucky break. June 9 was a

Sunday. The vast majority of the base population was in or near their homes.34 Rand made an

announcement over FEN television and radio

that told everyone of the situation. In his bland

monotone, he said further announcements

would come that evening, after the scientists and

base commanders had the opportunity to study

the volcano further. By 7:00 that evening nothing had changed with the volcano. Rand told

everyone to continue preparations for an evacuation and another announcement would be

made at 10:00 p.m.

Shortly before 10:00 p.m., General Studer

delayed his evacuation decision until early

morning on June 10, the next day. Consultations

with the USGS indicated that there was no basic

change in the condition of the mountain.

Colonel Rand prepared to go on

the air and pass along that

information, but shortly before

airtime, the television studio

lost electrical power. It took

nearly an hour to fix the problem; and by the time Rand

transmitted the news, he

assumed he was sending it to a

very hostile audience. He said

that the decision would be

made early the next morning

and in time for the first evacuees to depart their homes at

6:00 a.m. He encouraged everyone to double

check that every family and each individual had

the items ready that were on the evacuation

checklist.

Colonel Rand was upset that his credibility had suffered due to the long delay before

going on the air, and he was concerned the

power failure might re-occur right when the

evacuation order was given. He ordered the station crews to stay on duty all night and make

sure the studio was ready to go at a moment’s

notice.35

Hitting the Road

General Studer met with Colonel Grime,

Colonel Rand, the USGS team and others at 4:30

a.m., June 10. Studer asked questions of the volcanologists for about 20 minutes then turned to

Rand and asked him for the two announcements

Rand had prepared. One announcement said

there was no change in the volcano, so stand by.

The other said the evacuation would begin at

6:00 a.m. Studer looked at the two announcements for a moment then handed one to Rand.

“Go with this one,” the general said. Rand

looked down at the piece of paper Studer had

handed him. It was the evacuation order.

36

At 5:00 a.m., June 10, 1991, Lt Col Ron

Rand, “Colonel Bland,” came on the air and

started his broadcast the way he had started

other broadcasts, “Good morning, Clark!” He

27

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Rand looked down at the

piece of paper Studer had

handed him. It was the

evacuation order
reiterated the evacuation instructions the way he

had given them the night before and the way

they were written in the evacuation pamphlet. 

The first evacuees left their homes at 6:00

a.m. Immediately the streets were flooded with

cars, but Colonel Dassler’s cops kept them moving toward the flight line and the marshaling

area.

On the flightline, Murphy’s services troops

and morale, welfare and recreation (MWR) people passed out bottled water, snacks and other

comfort items. The lines on the parking apron

were long but kept moving. Personnel specialists and security policemen gathered information from drivers that indicated who was travelling with them. Base buses traveled through the

dormitory areas and picked up single airmen

who did not own cars.

Most cars were heavily loaded. Besides

family members and pets, many Americans

brought their domestic help as far as the gate.

There, many said a tearful goodbye to people

who had become de facto family members.

Some did not drop off the domestics but continued to Subic Bay with them rather than abandon

them to an uncertain future.

No one was happy about leaving, and the

skeptics were not shy about saying so. Eagle, the

wing commander, recalled, “When they were all

going out the gate, it was a beautiful day. A

bunch of [young airmen] stopped at the gate, and

one of the [news] correspondents stuck a microphone in the window and asked what they

thought of [the evacuation]. They just laughed

and said, “Look at what we’ve got today. This is

our standard leadership, do you believe they are

having us do this?’”37

By most accounts, the base was empty by

noon. Nearly 15,000 people had left in six

hours. The highway to Subic Bay was bumperto-bumper with American cars. The leading

edge of the onslaught hit Subic Bay at about 8:00

a.m. Whatever plans Subic Bay had soon

foundered under the relentless waves of Clark

refugees streaming onto the small bases.

Hi! I’m from Clark. What’s for

Breakfast?

Col Jim Goodman, commander of Clark’s

civil engineering squadron, had traveled to

Subic Bay the night before, so he was able to

watch the evacuees pouring onto the base. Navy

o fficials had designated the enlisted sailors’

club, the Sampaguita Club, as the central reception point for the evacuees. Goodman watched

in amazement as lines of people in front of the

Sampaguita Club grew to nearly half-a-mile

long.38 Inside the club Navy and Air Force personnel and billeting specialists labored mightily

to find shelter for the evacuees. They assigned

several hundred families to unoccupied homes

in the San Miguel housing area.39 Several hundred were sent to the Navy recreation area on

Grande Island. They sent others to the few open

billeting rooms available since quarters at the

Navy bases were already 99.5 percent occupied.40 Navy families from Subic started taking

evacuee families home with them. These efforts

did not make a dent in the ever-lengthening lines

that went out the door, around the corner and

several blocks down the street.

In an attempt to shorten the lines and

speed up the process, hundreds of evacuees

were directed to the base’s football field. They

were instructed to wait there while one family

member went to wait in the lines at the

Sampaguita Club. Those who waited and sat in

the field’s bleachers sweltered in the summer

sun for hours. Neither water nor shade was

available. Some sought respite by crawling into

holes they dug in the sandy soil under their cars.

4 1

Other issues besides water and shade

arose. One of the biggest was the pets evacuees

had brought with them. Wartime NEO plans

called for pets to be euthanized rather than

waste valuable passenger space for pets during

an evacuation. However, this evacuation was

not wartime, and everyone hoped for a quick

return to the base, so putting the animals down

was never seriously considered. Taking care of

the pets within the context of the evacuation,

however, made life difficult for everyone. Many

did not have leashes for their pet, and very few

had pet carriers for the animals. The billeting

rules forbade animals in the rooms. It was too

hot to leave the animals in cars. There was no

place to walk them and no place to put them.

Cardboard boxes were brought from the commissary and base exchange, but there were so many

pets the boxes had little effect. An emergency

order went out to nearby bases for 2,000 pet carriers.42

Col Bruce Freeman, vice commander of

Thirteenth Air Force, arrived later in the day. He

found a mass of people jammed into the

makeshift reception center. In an interview a

year later, Freeman said, “About two o’clock in

the morning, this young seaman, maybe 21 years

old . . . wife looked to be about 19 or 20 . . . they

were obviously just getting started in their married life. They came in and very quietly came up

to me and said, “Sir, we don’t have much, but

whatever we have we will be happy to share.

There are five rooms in our house, not counting

the bathroom, we would be happy to take a family for each of the other four rooms.”

28

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
“Well, I gotta tell you, I damn near cried –

I cannot tell you what an inspirational experience it was . . . . It was Navy helping Air Force,

and it long since lost service identity.”43

A pregnant woman, who was at the head of

the line and filling out paperwork, turned to her

companion and said, “Now.” Everyone knew

what she meant, and someone hustled her out of

the room into a hallway. Standing in the next

line beside the woman was an obstetrician-evacuee. He followed the woman out and escorted

her to Subic Bay hospital where her baby was

born a little later.

The Mission Essential Team

At nearly midnight on June 10, the CAT

commander, who had just returned from flying

Clark’s last F-4 to the bone yard, returned to his

quarters in a taxi he had taken from Manila. He

had the strange sensation of being the protagonist in a Rod Serling “Twilight Zone” episode.

T h e re were lights every w h e re: street lights,

porch lights, and lamps in the homes were all

ablaze. No people. The streets and sidewalks

were deserted. No cars. All the lights were on,

but there was nobody home. What should have

been a bustling community, even late at night,

looked like a full-scale mock-up for a toy train

advertisement.44 There were no sounds. The air

was dead quiet.

The next day, Colonel Anderegg, the CAT

commander; Colonel Murphy; Colonel Grime;

Colonel Dassler; and the few remaining other

commanders refined plans to withdraw if the

mountain erupted. The USGS had determined

that the likelihood of a large eruption was a near

certainty. The only question was how large.

They discussed three scenarios. A scenario in which an eruption would occur and

send pyroclastic flows only to the northwest was

judged to have a “high” probability; the occurrence of an even larger eruption, in which pyroclastic flows would cross a topographic divide

and also flow to the east, towards the base, was

judged to have a “moderate” probability. The

possibility smaller eruptions might continue for

weeks to years was also given a “moderate”

probability.

45

The stress on everyone was nearly palpable. General Studer had ordered the evacuation

in the face of strong skepticism fro m

Washington. USGS and PHIVOLCS were concerned that tens of thousands of Filipinos had

not evacuated despite the warnings. The mayor

of nearby Angeles City said, “they (the

Americans) are overreacting” and “causing

panic,” comments that were published in both

The Washington Post and The New York Times.46

Everyone, commanders and scientists alike, was

worried about the security policemen who were

deployed across the base guarding homes and

government property.

Colonel Dassler, and his deputy commander, Col Art Corwin, had decided to fight the way

they had trained. In other words, they elected to

use a system of defense that security forces had

designed to protect the base from enemy attack.

The system was called Air Base Ground Defense

29

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Cars were parked

on a runway ready

for the evacuation

order.
(ABGD), and it was one they practiced countless

times in preparation for an attack on the base

from enemy forces.

The ABGD plan divided the base into

defensive sectors. Each sector had a commander at a small command center that could communicate orders to his troops. Each sector

reported to a central battle staff, which in turn

received information and taskings from the main

command post.

A young security police lieutenant, Chris

Bargery, was commander of Alpha Sector. He set

up his headquarters in the abandoned Wagner

High School with 175 police under his command. Trucks, bricks, weapons, and other

equipment were assigned to him so that he could

operate independently and efficiently. Bargery,

whose wife and two young children were at

Subic Bay, moved out of his house and into the

principal’s office. He slept in a large, luxurious

leather chair behind the principal’s desk.

With only minor modifications, the ABGD

plan fit perfectly into the plan to escape

Pinatubo’s wrath – if it came. The CAT commander would stay in the drum room with the

volcanologists. If an eruption seemed imminent,

the CAT commander would order “Hawkeye,”

the command post personnel, to blow the base

siren for five minutes. When the ABGD commander heard the siren, he would direct each

sector commander to withdraw his troops. This

warning system had the benefit of being redundant since the troops guarding the base could get

the warning to withdraw from either the bricks

they carried or the siren. If either the brick system or the siren system failed, the other would

provide the warning.

Once the alarm sounded, the mission

essential team of cops, cooks, commanders and

others would drive immediately to a tent city

constructed at the far side of the base away from

the volcano. If the eruption were very large,

then the mission essential force would continue

another nine miles to the Pampanga Agricultural

College where Colonel Murphy and Colonel

White's people had stockpiled supplies.

Implicit in the plan was enough warning of

an eruption to move everyone to safety. Basic

math revealed that a pyroclastic flow could

reach the base in less than five minutes. No one

wanted to contemplate the horror of a wall of

superheated gases and ash slamming into Hill

housing at 50 miles per hour.

The Alternate Command Post

Earlier in the month, Col Al Garcia, the

b a s e ’s communications commander, Colonels

M u r p h y, White, and others had surveyed a

building near Clark’s east wall. The building

had been a communications center during the

Vietnam War, but was unused for the last several years. The building was an ideal location for

an alternate command post. 

During wartime, the siting of an alternate

command post would be an elementary part of

combat. If the enemy knocked out the primary

command post, the commander or his deputy

would still be able to direct the battle from the

alternate.

The wily colonels had picked an ideal

location. The building was as far away from the

volcano as possible, yet still on base property. It

had both a primary and a back-up electrical generator that powered the building. Both generators were equipped with air filters, and the air

conditioning equipment was filtered, too. The

brick system’s central control functions were

located in the building as well, and many of the

base’s telephone lines came through the building.

It was a large building, nearly empty of any

furniture, and it had bathrooms and a few showers. The large, empty rooms could be used for

many purposes: sleeping quarters, office space,

supply storage or meeting rooms. The building

sat just inside the gate that led off the base into

the town of Dau ( pronounced da-oo).

On June 10, the USGS-PHIVOLCS scientists moved their monitoring system from the

Maryland Avenue site, which was on the southwest side of the parade field, to the Dau alternate

command post. They did not want to move their

equipment in the middle of an eruption, an act

that would cause them to lose data while the

mountain was erupting. The Dau site put them

an additional five miles from the volcano.

Although this move was not intended to overcome any lingering skepticism that an eruption

would occur, it may have had that effect anyway.

4 7

The beards set up the drum room on the

west side of the building where windows per30

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Subic Bay person -

nel bathe in the

base swimming

pool.
mitted a clear view of the Zambales and Mount

Pinatubo. They established a very crowded dormitory in two rooms behind the drum room. It

was jammed with cots and the ubiquitous backpack each scientist carried.

Chaos at Subic

Down at Subic Bay, the previous day’s

chaos of finding shelter for 15,000 people had

given way to confusion and disorganization.

Colonel Grime had hoped that when he sent his

people to Subic they would be billeted somewhat by organization. It did not happen. There

was no organization of any kind. People were in

the gymnasiums, schools, classrooms, hallways,

chapels, homes, and any place they could find a

roof over their heads to be out of the sun and

recover from the exhaustion of the evacuation.

Navy workers did their best to make the evacuees comfortable. Bubble wrap and cardboard

boxes were provided as sleeping surfaces.48

While the colonels who had evacuated

tried to figure out a way to establish a functioning organization, the first sergeants sprang into

action. The “first shirts,” as they are nicknamed,

went to where the troops were and start e d

accounting for each of them. They went into the

dormitories, schools, and chapels. They drove

the streets of the housing areas at San Miguel

and Grande Island. As they worked, a list slowly grew of where people were camped. Colonel

Goodman, who was acting as support group

commander at Subic, was amazed at how thorough the ingenious first shirts were at finding

their people. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, organization emerged and information started to flow

to the evacuees.49 Not all evacuees wanted to be

found. Many approached the trip to Subic Bay

like a holiday. Even the Navy hosts tried to

entertain their guests by sponsoring a golf tournament, and organizing cook-outs with free, cold

beer. Those who wanted to party did so, and

military organization took a back seat.50

Colonel Freeman, the senior Air Force officer, acted to reduce the crush of humanity.

Nearly 50 percent of the married enlisted members were married to Asian spouses, and about

80 percent of those were married to Filipinas.

Freeman announced that anyone desiring leave

who had a rotation date after July 1 could join

their local relatives as long as the location was

not within 30 kilometers (18 miles) of Mount

Pinatubo. They were to return to Subic Bay no

later than June 28.51

Navy officials assisted Freeman’s efforts to

reduce long lines at dining facilities by extending open hours to 24 hours a day at the base dining halls and by extending the open hours at

other shopping and eating locations.52 However,

the Navy bases were swamped. The base

exchange ran out of disposable diapers and dog

food the first day.

The Vigil at Clark

The volcano, 25 miles away from Subic

Bay, got uglier by the hour. A dome had started

to extrude from the summit’s northeast side.

One of the tiltmeters, or inclinometers, started to

tilt outward at an alarming rate. The drums were

showing constant swarms of earthquakes, and

the earthquakes were even closer to the surface.

All evidence suggested that a shallow conduit

was developing for delivery of magma to the surface. During a morning helicopter observation

flight, observers identified a small (50-150 yards

in diameter) lava dome on the northwest side of

the mountain. The small dome was accompanied by the emission of a low, roiling ash cloud

from the vicinity of the dome.53

Visual observation of the volcano was critical to the USGS-PHIVOLCS scientists. They

had set up the drum room at PVO on Maryland

Avenue so they could watch the volcano out the

window while watching the drums at the same

time. When they moved to the alternate command post, they again set up where windows

faced the mountain. The helicopter flights in the

b a s e ’s UH-1s permitted close observ a t i o n .

However, there seemed to be no way to watch

the volcano at night until someone suggested

they use Cyclops.

Rube Goldberg would have loved Cyclops.

The F-4Es, which had just departed the base, frequently carried a large, 2,000-pound pod on the

belly of the aircraft. The pod contained an

infrared sensor that could see targets at night.

One of these pods had been mounted on top of

the airfield control tower to assist security police

forces in their continuing, and sometimes frustrating, efforts to interdict thieves who tried to

sneak onto the vast reservation at night. A security policeman operated the pod from a small

office in the control tower, scanning the perimeter wall and the large uninhabited areas of the

base. If he spotted an intruder with Cyclops’

i n f r a red evil eye, he would vector security

f o rces, frequently the base’s mounted horse

patrol, toward the intruder. Often, the intruders

escaped, but Cyclops was a definite plus in the

security forces’ bag of tricks.

Cyclops had a clear line of sight to the volcano both night and day as long as no clouds

were in the way. Soon, the volcanologists asked

that a hot line be established between PVO and

Cyclops in order to watch the mountain at night.

Cyclops had one other interesting feature. It was

rigged to a video recorder, also commandeered

from the old F-4s, that could tape everything

Cyclops saw.

31

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
The mounted horse patrol (MHP) flight of

the security police group was the only unit of its

kind in the Air Force. The MHP stables supported 20 horses in an area shared by recreation

services’ horses. Each evening, MHP riders

would report to the stables, saddle up and patrol

the base. Most of their patrol routes went

through the elephant grass, creek beds, and

banana groves of the most remote areas of the

base. The riders always patrolled in pairs, carried weapons for self-defense and maintained

radio contact with central security control. The

horse frequently sensed intruders before the riders. When a horse stopped, pricked up its ears

and looked in a certain direction, a smart rider

gave the horse his head. Sometimes the riders

wore night-vision goggles, but the extra weight

and danger of losing the valuable goggles in the

jungle hardly made the effort worthwhile since

the horses saw nearly as well.54

The night of June 11, everyone at Clark

who was not on duty slept in his own bed.

Despite the mountain’s volatility, General Studer

believed a good night’s rest was important for

everyone. While Cyclops scanned the river valleys and the night watch of volcanologists

leaned over the drums with their hands in their

pockets, the mission essential force rested. It

was the last peaceful night they would have for

a long time. The next day would see them

become the Ash Warriors.

32

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

NOTES TO CHAPTER 3

1 Fire and Mud, p 73.

2 Ibid., p 74.

3 Interview, General (Ret) Jimmie V. Adams with the author, January 20,

1999, audio tape at HQ USAF/HO, Bolling AFB, DC, [hereafter cited as

Adams interview].

4 Author's journal.

5 Ibid.

6 Fire and Mud, p 77.

7 Murphy interview.

8 Murphy interview, sup doc Rand interview.

9 Murphy interview; Rand interview; Newhall e-mail.

10 Rand interview.

11 Philippine Flyer, "Just the Facts . . . . ,” June 7, 1991, p 5.

12 Rand interview.

13 Ibid.

14 Murphy interview.

15 Rand interview.

16 Newhall letter, 27 July.

17 Ibid.

18 Grime interview 1992.

19 Adams interview.

20 Fire and Mud, p 80.

21 Anderegg, pilot log book.

22 Murphy interview.

23 Hoblitt notes, p 17.

24 Fire and Mud, p 80.

25 Philippine Flyer, June 7, 1991, p 5.

26 Fire and Mud, p 80.

27 Ibid.; Rand interview.

28 Studer interview.

29 Hoblitt notes.

30 Fire and Mud, p 80.

31 Interview, David H. Krieger with author, February 4, 1999, audio

tape at USAF/HO, Bolling AFB, DC [hereafter cited as Krieger interview].

32 Interview, Colonel Bruce Freeman with PACAF/HO, October 9, 1992

[hereafter cited as Freeman interview].

33 Murphy interview; Rand interview.

34 Calendar.

35 Rand interview.

36 Ibid.

37 Grime interview 1999.

38 Goodman interview.

39 Krieger interview.

40 Ibid.

41 Interview, Barbara Collins with author, October 30, 1998.

42 Goodman interview.

43 Freeman interview.

44 Author's journal.

45 Fire and Mud, p 81.

46 Ibid., p 80.

47 Ibid., p 81.

48 Krieger interview.

49 Goodman interview.

50 Krieger interview, Goodman interview.

51 Philippine Flyer, special edition, June 11, 1998.

52 Ibid.

53 Fire and Mud, p 9.

54 Interview, MSgt Harlan E. Mikkelson with author, October 23, 1998

[hereafter cited as Mikkelson interview].
The volcano erupted at 8:50 a.m., June 12, 1991. There was no warning except a frantic

call from the command post, Hawkeye, on the brick, “It just blew! The volcano just erupted!”

The crisis action team was gathering in the main command post for a 9:00 a.m. meeting.

When he heard the call on the brick, the CAT commander used his brick to initiate the withdrawal of mission essential personnel to the far eastern side of the flightline, “Hawkeye, this

is Lucky, blow the siren.”

Dave Harlow, the USGS scientist who had replaced Chris Newhall,* was at the command

post for the upcoming meeting. He, Lucky, and the rest of the CAT sprinted down the hallway

and out the front door of the command center. Before they got halfway down the hallway, they

knew the withdrawal plan was underway because all the lights went out as the power plant

workers “pulled the plug” on the huge generators to protect them from possible ash fall.

Almost instantly, the hallway emergency lighting kicked on, and the sprinting group was

saved the embarrassment of running into each other like some Keystone Cops movie. The CAT

commander made a mental note to tell Mr. Jim Weed, a power plant supervisor, to delay cutting the power so people could get out of the buildings without broken bones.

The group emerged into a bright, clear perfect day and stopped to look westward toward

the Zambales. They, as every other person there that day, stared in amazement. A huge plume

of gray, roiling ash was rocketing upward out of Pinatubo into the cloudless, blue sky.

In the same instant it was terrifying and awesome. The column continued to climb at an

astonishing rate. It looked very much like the movies of nuclear test explosions – a huge,

mushroom-shaped cloud. The base’s weather radar could see the ash cloud and tracked its

top. Ten miles high. Eleven miles high. Twelve miles high!1 Later measurements would show

that the plume climbed at 400 meters per second, or 72,000 feet per minute.2

The top of the mushroom started to spread out in an enormous umbrella as the upper

level winds started to diffuse the ash. There was no sound above the steady wail of the warning sirens.

Colonel Rand was in General Studer’s office while the Thirteenth Air Force commander

was speaking on the telephone with another flag officer. Rand recalled, “Power went off,

sirens started going, General Studer’s brick beeped, and he said, ‘That’s it, Mark, we’re out of

here,’ and jumped up and got his hat and ran outside, looked up over my building and everybody who was there in that area was racing for a car. There wasn’t anybody taking their time.

As I looked up I could see that plume come up above, I knew where the mountain was, we all

knew where the mountain was. It was right behind my building. I didn’t see anything, then

all of a sudden . . . this plume . . . was going up so fast I couldn’t believe it. I watched it and

. . . jumped in the car with the protocol officer, Spuds McKenzie, and we got down on the

flightline . . . to the far side of the base. Cars were going everywhere, they didn’t know [where]

they were supposed to be going. I’d seen the evacuation route, so we stopped . . . I told Spuds

to go get that line of cars that’s down there and head them back this way. I just started waving cars out towards the right area. All manner of vehicles, every kind of vehicle you’ve ever

The wait and the uncer -

tainty was over as

Mount Pinatubo finally

erupted hurling tons of

ash and debris over

15,000 feet into the air.

* Newhall had returned to USGS headquarters in order to coordinate processing of data from the volcano.

33

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Chapter 4 FROGS IN A COOKING POT
seen and people in every state of disarray and

undress you’ve ever seen. I mean it looked like

if they were in the shower, they’d put a towel

around them, jumped in the car, and headed

across the flightline.”3

Harlow and Lucky discussed the threat.

Harlow saw no pyroclastic flows (PFs) and was

not very concerned that this eruption presented

much of a threat to the base. He called it a

photo-op. Lucky, who was concerned about the

need to send the mission essential force further

away to the Pampanga Agricultural College,

asked if this was “the big one.”

“No,” Harlow re p l i e d ,

“this is probably just the volcano clearing its throat.” He

f u rther explained that they

would now have to take a close

look at the data to determine

how much, if any, pressure this

eruption had released.

As they spoke, myriad

vehicles were whizzing past them and out onto

the flightline. One pickup truck zipped past

them, its driver steering with his left hand as he

used his right to aim a video camera out the window and behind him to tape the spectacular

eruption. Many airmen took video pictures of

the eruption as they ran from dormitories and

duty locations to POVs or government vehicles

to respond to the siren’s wail. The tapes are

filled with expletives, exclamations and nervous

laughter as doors slam, engines race and tires

squeal in their haste to get across the runways to

the relative safety of the far side of the base.

Amazingly, no accidents happened despite the

helter-skelter of what seemed to be total chaos.

The CAT had not directed a practice of the evacuation procedure.

Those who drove down Wirt-Davis Avenue

passed a large sign in front of the officers’ club.

It announced the abandoned club’s plans for a

social event scheduled for the coming weekend.

In bright red letters, the club proclaimed a “Last

Days of Pompeii” party was scheduled for the

upcoming Friday, June 14. One could assume

the proper attire for the party to be a toga.

In accordance with the “bugout plan,” the

security police group assembled near the Dau

command post, but most of the remainder of the

mission essential force, about 600 people, continued to the Pampanga Agricultural College.

The purpose was to get as many people as far

away from the volcano as prudent while keeping

the security forces nearby so that they could

return to security duties as soon as possible.4

One of the young security policemen at

Clark was SSgt John M. Thomas of the 3d Law

E n f o rcement Squadron. He

recalls, “We were playing basketball by the dormitory when

the siren went off. I’m not sure

if it went off before or after we

saw the cloud, but they happened at about the same time.

It looked like an atomic explosion, a mushroom cloud that

was going up into the sky.”5

Sergeant Thomas did not own a car, so he went

to the nearby armory that had been designated as

a rally point. He and others who did not own

cars loaded onto an evacuation bus that took

them to the Dau command post across the runways.

Harlow and Lucky were soon joined by

General Studer, Colonel Grime, and Colonel

Rand. Harlow filled them in quickly about what

he thought was going on with the volcano. Both

Studer and Grime were greatly relieved that the

volcano had erupted but was not causing any

damage or threatening the base.

When General Studer ordered the evacuation of dependents and non-mission essential

service members, only two days earlier, he took

several big risks to his credibility as a commander and a leader. In his view, losing his subo rdinates’ trust was the largest risk. If he

ordered an evacuation, yet nothing happened,

the men and women of the base would be very

reluctant to cooperate with any plan to re-occupy and possibly re-evacuate the base. Neither

Studer nor Grime wanted to establish a cycle

that whip-lashed their people back and forth. Of

course, the skeptics at the headquarters grew

more skeptical as a function of their distance

from the volcano. So, as they watched the eruption spread out in the upper atmosphere, both

felt a sense of relief that their judgments had

been sound. The evacuation process had been

difficult for everyone, but it had been the right

thing to do. The proof was there for all to see, an

enormous tower of ugly, gray ash hanging over

the base.6

34

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Gallows humor...

A sign in front of

the Clark Officers’

Club announced a

party that was

planned before the

situation became

serious. 

...this is probably just the

volcano clearing its throat
Regrouping

Gladiator called Lucky on the brick to ask

how long it would be before the security forces

could resume their Air Base Ground Defense

posture. Some of his units had reported intruders coming over the wall as soon as the evacuation started. Apparently the thieves knew what

the siren meant, too. The CAT commander told

him to resume immediately since the eruption

did not seem to be a threat to the base. The security forces’ training had pre p a red them for

retreat, regroup and counter-attack operations,

so the security police group, already regrouped

and ready to move in, bolted back into the housing area. Looters scattered in every direction as

the security forces caught them completely off

guard. The thieves did not have enough time to

do much damage. One, who had bitten off more

than he could chew, was caught hauling 10 bicycles in a pull cart.7

The CAT commander and Eagle, the wing

commander, drove over to the alternate command post near Dau and discussed the situation

with the USGS-PHIVOLCS team. They had not

passed a warning because they had only a few

seconds indication from the drums and the

RSAM that an eruption was occurr i n g .

Although energy levels in the mountain had

decreased somewhat, it was clear to all the scientists that the eruption was not the big one.

Indeed, it was just as Harlow had guessed – a

photo op of the mountain clearing its throat a little. The beards were somewhat embarrassed

that they had not seen the eruption coming.

Eagle and Gator were very glad they had taken

the conservative approach and cleared the base.

Nobody wanted to contemplate the possible

chaos the spectacular eruption would have

caused if the base was crowded with its normal

population.

A Bad Decision

Perhaps the biggest scare of the morning’s

eruption came because of a well-intentioned

decision that nearly went wrong. Many of the

evacuees at Subic Bay were coming to the end of

their tours in the Philippines and had port calls

to depart Manila during the month of June. In

order to relieve the congestion at Subic, Air

Force officials at Subic and at personnel headquarters in the United States had agreed to accelerate the departure of these “short timers,” by

moving up their departures to an as-soon-as-possible status. In order to give these early departees an opportunity to retrieve personal items

f rom their homes at Clark, a scheme was

devised. The people would come to Clark on

two buses that would drop them off at their

homes. They had one hour to pack anything

they wanted, then the buses would pick them up

and return them to Subic. The idea was to allow

a few people at a time to get back into their

homes to retrieve items they had forgotten, or

did not take because they had not planned to

leave for the United States having never

re t u rned to their homes. Goodman and

F reeman, the senior officers at Subic, were

a l ready discovering that many families had

taken few or none of the items on the evacuation

checklists. At Clark, security policemen and

transportation specialists devised a plan, under

the supervision of the CAT commander, to get

the people into and out of their quarters quickly,

with no danger of anyone being left behind if the

volcano blew while they were in the houses

packing suitcases. As people were dropped off,

an orange traffic cone was left in front of the

house so that the bus could pick them up quickly. Sure enough, just as the last person was

dropped off, the volcano erupted. The bus driver quickly retraced his steps and loaded frightened evacuees back on the bus as the siren

wailed and the huge ash cloud grew ominously

overhead. The plan to get folks back into their

homes was abandoned.

Improving the Bugout Plan

Later that morning, the CAT updated plans

to improve the flow of the mission essential

team out of the housing areas, down to the flightline and across the runways to the tent city

beside the Dau alternate command post. The

morning “bugout,” as they came to be called,

had been successful but had many rough edges.

The most obvious rough edge was that not everyone understood the plan. Two security policemen not only did not stop at Dau; they did not

stop until they got to Manila. When they called

their supervisor for instructions a few hours

after the eruption, he told them in no uncertain

terms how they should come back to Clark and

exactly how much time they had to do it.

Many drivers that raced out onto the flightline did not know how to get to the other side of

the base. Some were so ingrained with the prevolcano prohibition against driving on the flightline that they milled up and down the street

rather than go into what had been a restricted

area.

Another problem was that there was no

lighting on the flightline to show drivers the way

at night. Aircraft maintenance troops spent the

day bringing “light-alls,” trailered floodlights

used for nighttime aircraft maintenance, to

strategic spots along the evacuation route.

By late that afternoon, CAT members had

re-briefed the plan to their troops so that everyone would know where to go if the siren blew

35

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
36

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

again, and how to get there. No one would be

allowed to sleep at homes in the areas nearest

the volcano. Approved sleeping areas were the

dormitories near the flightline, the tent city

beside the Dau command post, and the Dau command post itself. A buddy system was initiated

so that no one traveled, ate, slept, or worked on

the base alone. The CAT did not want to have

anybody asleep where they might be left behind

in a bugout. Anyone who was on the volcano

side of the flightline had to have an operable

brick that was always on and immediate access

to a vehicle. In fact, no one was to cross to the

volcano side of the flightline without his/her

commander’s permission and specific reason to

be there.

Col Al Garcia, the 1961st Communications

Group commander, and his people had been

working feverishly for several days to upgrade

the communications link in the old building,

and it was ready for full-time use. So, Lucky

decided to move the entire command post operation (Hawkeye) over to the alternate location at

Dau so that all command and control functions,

as well as the drum room, would be co-located.

The move would allow the CAT commander to

be with the beards constantly, yet have all the

command and control functions provided by

Hawkeye a few steps away.

By 4:00 p.m., the transition to the Dau

command post was complete and everything

there was operational. Hawkeye was in place

and the brick network was complete. The only

glitch was that the siren control had not been

moved yet, so someone from Hawkeye had to

stay at the command post to push the button if

the CAT commander ordered it done. Maj Hugh

Riley, who had flown the last F-4 back to the

bone yard with Colonel Anderegg, the vice-wing

c o m m a n d e r, had re t u rned and resumed his

duties as Hawkeye commander.

The volcanologists made it clear that the

morning eruption was a precursor of others, perhaps bigger.

8 Harlow, Ewert and the others were

in their “worry mode.” They paced back and

forth in front of the drums and occasionally

stopped in front of the drums, stuffed their

hands into their pockets, bent at the waist, and

peered at the squiggles. They were concerned

about not getting much warning about the eruption but not surprised. In just a few seconds, the

earthquakes had increased from short, small

traces on the drums to wild, constant, side-toside swings of the needles on every drum. The

eruption had continued for approximately 38

minutes.9 Although PFs did not appear on the

Clark side of the volcano, some observers saw

small ones on the northwest side of the volcano.

None of the ash fell on the base. However,

winds from the northeast, unusual for the time

of year, carried it toward Subic Bay and its auxiliary housing area, San Miguel, a few miles to

the north. Surprised residents and evacuees

watched it fall like a light snow until everything

was covered with a very thin dust. Some quickly discovered it could not be brushed away easily; the stuff was abrasive and instantly scratched

hoods, roofs and trunk lids.

All afternoon and evening of June 12,

preparations continued to stockpile food and

water at the Dau command post and further west

at the college. One of the bigger concerns was

that ash fall would short out the base electrical

system thereby rendering useless the water

pumps that replenished the water storage tanks.

After an afternoon CAT meeting, an Air Force

fireman approached the CAT commander and

said the fire department had some large tank

trucks that all together held many thousand gallons of water. Further, the fireman suggested, if

the tanks were rinsed, then filled with fresh

water, he thought the water could be chlorinated

and stored right in the trucks. The CAT commander asked him to talk to Lt Col (Doctor)

Green, and if it would work to go ahead with the

idea. Most everyone who heard the brief side

discussion immediately forgot about it – except

the fireman and Doc Green, the medical officer

who was part of the mission essential team along

with a few of his corpsmen.

Getting Out the Word

By nightfall, the telephones had stopped

ringing off the hooks. Inquiries from around the

world poured in all day. Of course, the headAll power lines

and insulators

had to be washed

clean of ash

everytime ash

blew across the

base for weeks

after the main

eruptions.
37

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

quarters at both PACAF and the Pentagon wanted to know the situation and what actions were

planned. There was mild interest from news

media in the United States, and all such calls

were referred to Mercury. Rumors were already

running rampant throughout the evacuee population at Subic Bay that many homes were looted; some even thought the base had been abandoned completely. Colonel Rand made arrangements with his troops at Subic to start publishing an edition of the Philippine Flyer at Subic to

keep everyone informed about the true happenings both at Clark and Subic Bay.

Essentially the mission essential force was

cut off from communicating with their families

in the United States. The telephones were operational, but since no one could go home to call,

commercial phones were of no use to them.

Military phone lines were clogged with official

business calls. Wizard’s communications group

s t a rted advertising the availability of

“MARSgrams”* around the base. Anyone who

wanted to get a message home could fill out a

form that looked similar to a telegram blank.

G a rc i a ’s 1961st communications people then

collected the forms and took them to the MARS

station where they were read over long-range

radio to a station near the sender’s home. The

receivers on the stateside end would then make

a written copy of the message and deliver it to

the airman’s home address.10

Mail was another problem for the mission

essential force since the postal squadron was

operating with only a skeleton crew. Outgoing

mail was limited to letters only, and incoming

mail was a nightmare to sort since most people

were at Subic and it took hours to extract mail

for those who were still at Clark on the mission

essential force.11

Earlier in the afternoon, the 600 support

personnel who had evacuated to the college

returned to their duties at the base. The CAT

commander and wing commander agreed that

the next time a bugout was needed, all mission

essential personnel would wait in the Dau area

and near the gates for a second directive to move

everyone out to the college. The bugout in the

morning had gone fairly smoothly, so it seemed

reasonable rather than splitting the force. With

the experience of one eruption under their belts,

the mission essential team was more confident

of its ability to move quickly if a more severe

eruption happened.

A Second Eruption

By 10:00 p.m. those not on duty in the Dau

post were asleep. The CAT commander had

turned over his drum watch to Lt Col Al Shirley,

call sign Thruster. Shortly thereafter the volcanologists on duty noticed several long periods of

earthquakes. They told Shirley that an eruption

might be imminent, so Thruster awoke Lucky

from the “VIP Suite,” a small room at the back of

the command post with three army cots that had

been reserved for General Studer, Colonel Grime,

and the CAT commander.

Thruster, his voice urgent, related that the

volcano looked like it might erupt again, but

they could not see it in the dark. The CAT commander picked his brick up from the floor and

transmitted, “Hawkeye, Lucky, blow the siren!”

The airman on duty at the abandoned main command post immediately turned the siren on, and

it started its ear-splitting wail across the base.

By the time Lucky could walk across the building to the drum room, cars were already streaming out of the dormitories across the field and

across the runways. This evacuation seemed

more orderly than the morning event as the cars

and trucks all moved smoothly through the cordon of light fixtures that showed the way.

All the scientists were clustered in front of

the drums, several in the hands-in-pockets-bentover mode. Their main concern was that they

could not see what was going on. Thruster

picked up a nearby telephone and dialed the airman who was operating Cyclops, the jury-rigged

infrared fighter pod that was mounted on the airfield control tower. The airman already had

pointed Cyclops in the direction of Pinatubo, so

he reported what he saw. The eruption looked

just like the earlier one, and he saw nothing

coming down the mountain range toward the

base. Everyone in the drum room breathed a bit

more easily.

The weathermen, who were monitoring

the base weather radar, called in and reported

that the eruption was going even higher than the

morning one. Ultimately, it topped-out nearly

15 miles high.12

Once again, the volcanologists explained

that this eruption was not the climactic event.

The RSAM still indicated an extremely high

energy level under the mountain. These throat

clearings, although spectacular, were relatively

inconsequential, in their opinion. In general,

the mountain had returned to its pre-eruptive

levels of earthquakes and energy level. The CAT

commander returned the security police to its

duties, and those not on duty went back to bed.

H o w e v e r, the CAT passed another dire c t i v e

through the chain of command to all personnel.

Wherever anyone was asleep there must also be

someone awake. The CAT was concerned that

ash fall might disable the siren warning system.

If that happened, the bricks would be the only

way to pass the word to bugout, and a single system was clearly inadequate considering the stakes. * Military Affiliate Radio System, a military-sponsored ham radio net.
Although the CAT directives at this time

only required those who lived in the western

housing areas to sleep near the flightline or the

Dau command post, the security group commander noted that, not surprisingly, more beds

were filled in tent city following the second

bugout. The military men and women of Clark

Air Base were experienced troops, and experienced troops understand that one sleeps where

and when one can. Clearly, many had decided

that if it took sleeping on a cot in tent city to get

a good night’s sleep then so be it.

June 13, 1991 dawned as another beautiful

dry-season morning. Gray ash covered the crest

and flanks of Mount Pinatubo, and a continuous

light gray plume emitted from its summit. At a

meeting of unit commanders that morn i n g ,

Eagle, 3 TFW commander, congratulated everyone on “doing a great job of keeping people safe

and protecting our property. We have a very

important job here, and I’m proud of the way

we’re all pitching in to do it right.”

He further emphasized that, “we’ll probably have to respond to more eruptions for the

foreseeable future, and . . . there really isn’t any

way to tell when – volcanoes are just too unpredictable. For that matter,” he continued, “we

can’t even say how long this situation may go on,

so we need to make certain that everyone gets

some quality rest, so they can continue to take

the alarms seriously and respond according to

the plan until the volcano subsides. Things are

going very well, and I like the way we’re pulling

together as a team. I’ll tell you, that old Clark

pride is really evident.”13

Another One

By 8:30 a.m. the same earthquake patterns

were appearing on the drums that had been seen

before the previous evening’s eruption. At 8:41

a.m., while the volcanologists and the CAT were

discussing the possibility of another eruption,

the volcano erupted for its third time. Hawkeye

sounded the siren and another bugout began.

This time, though, the flow of traffic across the

flightline was orderly and more efficient, and all

personnel were out of the western end of the

base in less than five minutes.

Again, it was a towering ash plume that

rocketed up to nearly 15 miles.14 This eruption

looked even more like a nuclear explosion as the

rapidly climbing ash plume hit the tropopause*

at approximately 8 miles in altitude. Once the

hot ash plume hit the rapidly cooling air of the

t ropopause, large concentric rings started to

form around the head of the mushroom. The

effect was at once stunning and horrific. As

soon as the scientists were certain no PFs were

observed or likely, Lucky returned the security

forces to their posts and others to their support

duties.

Many noticed that the three eruptions had

occurred at nearly 12 hour intervals. Lucky discussed this with the beards. He wondered if the

volcano were showing signs of becoming an

“Old Faithful.” The scientists were unimpressed with his theory and dismissed the timing as a coincidence.

Some Philippine newspapers reported that

weapons, especially nuclear weapons, stored at

38

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

An eruption early

in the sequence of

blasts. The unusu -

al Cassandra’s

Rings were only

seen on this erup -

tion and were

probably the result

of heat, tempera -

ture inversions

and the speed at

which the column

ascended.

Personnel erected

a tent city in order

to be able to sleep

nearer to their

evacuation point.

* The tropopause is the boundary between the upper troposphere and the lower

stratosphere; it varies in altitude from approximately 5 miles at the poles to

approximately 11 miles at the equator.
Clark were in danger of accidental detonation

from lava flows. The Guardian, a Manila paper

carried the headline, “US issues nuclear alert as

volcano gathers strength,” and alleged that the

US issued a “nuclear alert . . . . After servicemen

were forced to abandon Clark Air Base in the

Philippines following another series of huge

explosions from the Mount Pinatubo volcano.”

The article also quoted a US official saying, “we

are abandoning the base to nature.” The article

was reprinted in a number of Manila papers.

The US Embassy was quick to rebut the

article and issued a statement, “The US Embassy

categorically denies allegations which first

appeared in The Guardian and

later disseminated by the local

press that the US has issued a

‘nuclear alert’ at Clark Air Base.

No such alert was ever contemplated or issued. The Embassy

wishes to emphasize that no US

weapons system at Clark or

elsewhere in the Philippines is

endangered by the ongoing eruptions of Mount

Pinatubo.”15

Indeed, the only weapons stored at Clark

were some 3,370 short tons of conventional

munitions stored in two munitions storage areas

( M S A s ) .1 6 The MSA nearest Pinatubo was

empty. The MSA nearest the Dau command post

contained some munitions that were considered

“sensitive” because they would be useful to terrorists if they could get their hands on them.

These sensitive munitions were Stinger* missiles

and plastic explosives.

By the early evening hours of June 13, the

volcano was again showing the signs of an

impending eruption, and the volcanologists

issued a warning to the base and to the surrounding area.17 The CAT commander blew the

siren and the fourth bugout in 36 hours was

underway. Each unit reported in that they were

standing by the gates and ready to move out to

the college. The beards watched the drums. The

CAT watched the beards. Nothing happened.

The earthquake activity gradually subsided until

it was at its previous level. By the time it was

dark, the CAT had returned everyone to normal

duties.

The efforts of the security police group to

return quickly to its patrol duties were effective

despite the increase in intrusions by thieves during the bugouts. Once the housing areas, work

areas, and main storage areas were devoid of

dependents and non-essential personnel, the

cops’ job of identifying intruders got easier. If

they saw someone in the housing area, for example, who was not wearing BDUs,† then that

someone did not belong there. Also, there were

many more patrolmen on duty since shifts were

longer and more frequent, and the troops did not

have other ancillary duties, such as training

meetings, to attend.18 During the previous three

eruptions there were only two confirmed burglaries within the housing areas.19

The volcanologists and Lucky, the CAT

commander, sat in the drum room and shared

packages from MREs.‡ John

Ewert, who had shown an eerie

ability to guess what the volcano would do, related a

m e t a p h o r. He said, “Yo u

know, if you drop a frog into

boiling water, he’ll hop right

out to save his skin. But if you

put a frog into cold water, then

gradually heat it to boiling, the frog will sit there

until he’s cooked.” The assembled group of scientists, officers, and sergeants laughed, but

everyone got the point. The water was getting

warmer by the day.

By the morning of June 14, the Dau command post looked like a fraternity house on

Sunday morning. Sleeping bodies filled nearly

every room. Some were on cots while others

slept in mummy bags on the floors, tables, and

any place there was enough room to stretch out.

Gladiator reported that the tent city was nearly

full. Many people slept in their cars, including

Mercury.

20

Several corners of the rooms were stacked

high with MREs, cases of soda, bottled water and

snacks. Paper coffee cups littered the drum

room along with empty containers of the

CAT/volcanologists’ snack of choice – Cheese

Puffs. CAT members joked about getting permanently orange fingertips from chowing down on

the tasty treats.

Mother Nature Ups the Ante

At the morning CAT meeting, some bad

news came from Maj Bill Nichols’ weather forecasters. A typhoon, named Yunya, was headed

for Luzon, Clark’s island. A typhoon is the

Pacific version of a hurricane, and this one

packed winds of over 100 miles per hour. The

winds were not a big concern because a large

mountain ridge along the east edge of Luzon

usually protected Clark from intense typhoon

winds. The real worry was the attendant rainfall, and Yunya carried very heavy rains.

39

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

...the “water” was getting

warmer by the day 

* The Stinger is a small, heat-seeking missile carried in a short, lightweight launch -

ing tube. One person can fire it, and it is capable of bringing down even large

aircraft.

† Battle Dress Uniform, a newer version of fatigues.

‡ Meals Ready to Eat, the modern version of the infamous WW II C-rations. A sin -

gle MRE box contains several vacuum-sealed plastic bags that contain a variety of

food items. It is common for diners to open a box each, then trade individual

packets until one gets the things he/she prefers.
40

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

As the weatherman spoke to the CAT, the

room seemed to deflate slowly. The look on

each face was “What next? A cloud of locusts?”

Most were aware of the devastation wet ash

could cause, and several recalled the example

the scientists used about the glass of dry sand

being filled with water.

* The three earlier eruptions had put nearly an inch of ash on the

ground at San Miguel, the Navy auxiliary housing area that held nearly two thousand evacuees.

One inch was not a problem, but the mountain

showed no sign of reversing its course of continuing eruptions.

The CAT set about making plans to deal

with Typhoon Yunya. COR 3†

was declared. The tent city

could not withstand typhoon

winds, so an alternate plan was

devised. If the siren blew after

6:00 p.m., troops would go to

two large hangars on the flightline to take shelter from the

typhoon while waiting to see if

further evacuation to the college would be needed. The

CAT distributed a map to show

how to find the hangars and

gave instructions for the use of

the hangars. A copy was given to every mission

essential member, and it was duplicated in an

edition of the base newspaper.

21

Sweltering in the Sun

At about 11:00 a.m., the earthquake activity in the mountain was increasing in both frequency and amplitude at an increasing rate.

Lucky, confident he could recognize an impending eruption on the drums and the RSAM, elected to direct a bugout. He radioed, “Hawkeye,

Lucky, blow the siren.”

As the siren sounded, Maj Hugh Riley’s

voice came on the net, “Attention on the net.

Attention on the net. Mount Pinatubo is erupting, all personnel proceed immediately to the

gates. I say again, Mount Pinatubo is erupting,

all personnel proceed immediately to the gates!”

Riley was on duty again. He and Capt John

Cherry always seemed to be available no matter

the time of day or night. All the command post

controllers were dedicated officers and sergeants

who were Johnny-on-the-spot whenever the CAT

needed something done. Of course, the mountain was not erupting, but Lucky said nothing

since Riley’s radio call had the desired effect.

Cars and trucks were streaming across the airfield to marshal at the gates.

An hour went by and nothing happened.

Ewert leaned over the drums and peered out the

window. He turned to the CAT commander and

grinned, “I don’t think it’s going to blow for

another hour or so.”

Dassler’s gravely voice came through the

brick, “Lucky, Gladiator. It’s hot as hell out here

in these vehicles. How ’bout getting some water

out here to us while we wait.”

“Wilco,‡ Gladiator,” Lucky responded.

Within a second, an unfamiliar voice came

on the net. “Lucky, this is Personnel Bobbitt, I’m

on my way out with a truckload of sodas.”

“ R o g e r, thanks,” Lucky

answered.

The CAT commander

w o n d e red aloud, “Who the

hell is Personnel Bobbitt?”

Whoever he was, he was using

the standard radio call sign the

Air Force designates for those

who do not have one.

Standard procedure prohibits

the use of rank on the radio, so

those who do not have an

assigned call sign precede the

last name with the appellation “personnel.” It

sounded silly, but Bobbitt was doing what he

had been trained to do. The services squadron

re p resentative on the CAT revealed that

Personnel Bobbitt was one buck sergeant Jim

Bobbitt. The services squadron was responsible

for operating the dining halls and living quarters.

The convoys sat at the gate for another

hour in the sweltering tropical sun. As canteens

went dry and Bobbitt’s truckload of sodas emptied, tempers grew short. The services squadron

commander came on the net, “Lucky, Services 1,

if you’ll let me and a small squad go back across

the flightline, we can prepare a hot lunch.”

Lucky answered, “Go ahead Services 1, but

make sure you have the vehicles pointed out and

stay on the net.”

Finally, after nearly two hours in the hot

sun, the CAT commander released the convoys

to re t u rn to their duty stations, “Hawkeye,

Lucky. Bring everyone back to duty stations.”

The CAT and the scientists watched as the

stream of vehicles started back across the runway, bumper-to-bumper. Most of them were private vehicles. Many of the troops had their cars

packed with tre a s u res from home: wedding

albums, kids’ first toys, video tapes of first birthdays and the others from which lifetime memories are made. They were not going to leave

Clark, even for a moment, without those treasures.

“I say again, Mount

Pinatubo is erupting,

all personnel proceed

immediately to the gates”

* See Chapter 3.

† Typhoon Condition of Readiness, a warning system used by military forces in the

Pacific. Level 3 means winds of 50 knots or higher expected within 48 hours; COR

2 means winds of greater than 50 knots in less than 24 hours.

‡ Standard radio terminology for "I will comply."
41

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Ten minutes later, the volcano erupted,

and the mission essential force went through

another bugout. The CAT held the convoys at

the gate while Pinatubo threw ash and steam 12

miles into the sky. This eruption was not as

spectacular as previous ones because high

clouds, precursors of Typhoon Yunya, blocked

the view.

And Another

Two hours later, another eruption came.

CAT members wondered how long the volcano

could maintain the pace. Surely, they wondered, it must be close to exhausting itself. The

volcanologists pointed to the

drums and the RSAM. By this

time, the RSAM was five times

higher than the level that had

p rompted General Studer to

evacuate the base four days earlier. The energy level in the

mountain inexorably continued to build, stepping ever

higher with each eru p t i o n .

During the night hours of June

14, the volcano erupted three more times.

Volcanology 201

Every evening at 8:00 p.m., the USGSPHIVOLCS team met to discuss Pinatubo. At the

evening meeting of June 14, there were two particularly bad pieces of news. Typhoon Yunya

was only 12 to 15 hours away from Clark. Even

more disturbing was the news the team had just

learned from Newhall back in the United States.

Satellite photographs of Mount Pinatubo, and

the analysis of those pictures and other data,

suggested that the magma field stimulating

Pinatubo’s eruptions was estimated to be 3 to 5

square kilometers. The scientists offered a perspective: the magma field that powered the

Mount Saint Helens blast was about one square

kilometer. Further, they offered, the difference

was a power of the square. Three times the

magma involvement meant the possibility of an

eruption nine times larger.

On the positive side of the scale, though,

was the fact that Clark was on the “good” side of

the volcano. The vents, explosions, and faults

were all facing away from Clark to the northwest

and west. The three-dimensional plots of the

earthquake activity clearly showed the involvement to be on the side of the mountain away

from Clark. Any large blast should go away from

the base. Subic Bay and the evacuees were well

outside any danger zone of even the largest possible explosion.

On the negative side of the scale, several

Air Force officers noticed that the scientists had

packed their knapsacks and were keeping them

close at hand. Not a good sign at all.

All Nighter

One-by-one the CAT and scientists wandered out of the drum room and headed for a

place to sleep. Lucky, Thruster, Huge (Major

Riley), and geologist Rick Hoblitt sat in the drum

room to discuss the situation. They pounded

coffee, nibbled on Cheese Puffs and scavenged

dinners from partial MREs that had been left

from earlier diners.

Gladiator came to the drum room. He said,

“We’ve had three bugouts in

the last three hours. Everyone

out there is exhausted. Let’s let

them sleep. The dorms are

only two miles closer to the

mountain than we are. Every

time you blow the siren fewer

and fewer actually re s p o n d .

More and more, they’re deciding to take their chances with

the mountain just to get some

sleep.”22

Lucky agreed. He had no doubt that someone would get killed if the night bugouts continued. Someone would fall down the stairs or get

run over by a speeding car in the dark. Both

Eagle and Gator were sleeping in the “VIP

Suite,” and the CAT commander did not wake

them up. Everyone was exhausted to the point

where individual good judgment was seriously

in question, and Lucky figured Eagle and Gator

needed to be fresh by the time the sun came up.

Ultimately, they were responsible for everything

and everyone.

Sergeant Thomas recalls the fatigue, “The

time period is rather vague, but the thing I

remember the most, and it still sends chills

down my spine, is the siren going off so much.

There was no way you could sit back and say,

‘Well, it’s just the siren going off again,’ because

you just didn’t know [what could happen]. I recollect many times when I thought I was getting

some sleep. It was so tiring because when you

were off [duty] you just didn’t get any down

time. It was exciting. It was exhilarating. But it

was, at the same time, one of the only times I

ever feared for my life because of the

unknown.”23

At about 2:00 a.m., the young airman monitoring Cyclops, called the CAT to report what

appeared to be a small PF on Clark’s side of the

mountain. He had video taped the event and

wanted to know if the volcanologists wanted to

see it. Hoblitt immediately responded in the

affirmative, and a runner was dispatched to

retrieve the tape.

“...one of the only times I

ever feared for my life

because of the unknown”
The tape showed what looked like a small,

thin PF curling around the south side of the

mountain about a thousand feet down from its

summit. Hoblitt looked at the tape over and

over. It was difficult to orient oneself to the tape

because the Cyclops infrared pod had to rotate

180 degrees as it swung toward the mountain, so

the picture was upside down. Also, the visibility was poor due to Typhoon Yunya’s encroaching clouds.

Rick Hoblitt finally threw in the towel and

went to bed after puzzling over the tape for nearly two hours. Only Bigfoot, one of the beards,

Thruster and Lucky remained in the drum room.

Suddenly, Hoblitt raced out of the beards’ sleeping room and announced in an excited voice,

“It’s not a PF! It’s a crack in the top of the mountain!”24

He hurriedly put the tape back in the

machine and paused the tape at the best view.

Using a topographical chart to help him, he

made his point. The whole top of the mountain

was loosening from the pressure below much

like a cork in a champagne bottle.

“See,” he said, “there’s no gully or river

there for a PF to flow through. That’s what’s

wrong that I couldn’t figure out. The only thing

it could be is a crack in the side of the mountain.

I need to get up there first thing in the morning

and look at it.”

Lucky was not sure the weather would be

good enough for Cactus to fly one of the base’s

helicopters up there in the morning. Yunya was

forecast to arrive at about 10:00 a.m. He called

Cactus at the helicopter hangar and alerted them

to be ready for a flight at 6:00 a.m. Then he folded his arms across his chest, bent over at the

waist and peered at the drums. A few days earlier the needles had been moving sporadically,

almost lazily, back and forth on the drums. Now,

they scratched back and forth frantically, nearly

banging off their stops as they slammed from

side to side. Dark, angry lines scribbled on the

graph paper.

42

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

NOTES TO CHAPTER 4

1 Fire and Mud, p 11.

2 Ibid., p 628.

3 Rand interview.

4 JTF-FIERY VIGIL SITREP, 121100Z Jun 91.

5 Interview, SSgt John M. Thomas, with author, October 26, 1998

[hereafter cited as Thomas interview].

6 Grime interview 1992

7 JTF-FIERY VIGIL SITREP, 121100 Z JUN 91.

8 Fire and Mud, p 81.

9 Ibid., p 10.

10 Philippine Flyer, special bulletin No. 1, June 13, 1991, p 2.

11 Ibid.

12 Fire and Mud, p 11.

13 Philippine Flyer, special bulletin No. 1, June 13, 1991, p.1.

14 Fire and Mud, p 11.

15 Message, AMEMB Manila to USIA, Washington DC, 170752Z Jun 91.

16 JTF-FIERY VIGIL SITREP, 121100Z JUN 91.

17 Fire and Mud, p 11.

18 Thomas interview.

19 Philippine Flyer, special bulletin No. 1, June 13, 1991, p 2.

20 Rand interview.

21 Philippine Flyer, special bulletin No. 2, June 14, 1991, p 2.

22 Author's journal, Chap 8, p 4.

23 Thomas interview.

24 Author's journal, Chap 8, p 4.
Stephen Spielberg, George Lucas, and Wes Craven could not have collaborated to produce a scene more incredible than the hours of June 15, 1991. Stephen King might have come

up with something similar, but only on his best day and only with his most perverse juices

flowing wildly.

As dawn slowly broke, those who were awake on Clark Air Base saw the clouds that had

rolled in ahead of Typhoon Yunya, and they covered most of the Zambales Mountains west of

the base. The lower slopes of Pinatubo were visible, but low scud masked the all-important

summit. The weather station observers surmised that the low clouds around Pinatubo were

temporary and would dissipate in the warming sun. They were right, and as the morning

brightened the lower clouds moved away to reveal the mountaintop, now ugly and gray from

the earlier eruptions.

Rick Hoblitt was awake and stuffing his backpack with items to take on his helicopter

survey of Pinatubo. He was very eager to get a closer look at what he had analyzed as a fracture the night before. If it were a fracture, then the situation might be dangerous for Clark. All

planning to this point had been predicated on a Mount Saint Helens type of blast being

focused out to the northwest. A crack of the Clark side of the mountain was a different can of

worms.

As Hoblitt nervously fussed around and packed, others wandered into the drum room

and milled around looking for coffee or surviving Cheese Puffs. General Studer, Gator, and

Colonel Grime, Eagle, leaned over the drums and looked at them and the mountain alternately.

The drums were saturated. The needles from every station swung steadily back and

forth, “wall-to-wall” in volcano-speak. They were a solid black trace from edge to edge, an

EKG measuring a thousand heartbeats per minute.

Lucky briefed Gator and Eagle on his intention to blow the siren at 6:00 a.m. and get

everyone formed up at the gates. He had played a waiting game for the past few hours, and it

seemed to everyone in the room that another eruption was imminent. Studer nodded his

assent and went outside the building. Grime wanted reassurances that the helicopter crew

knew that they were to take absolutely no risks in getting Hoblitt close to the mountain. The

pilot for the morning was Capt Brent Nyander, who had flown many of the Pinatubo observation missions already. Nyander knew the terrain and exhibited a very healthy respect for the

volcano. Grime agreed to the flight and turned away.

The Big One

Hoblitt was still puttering around the drums and chatting with the sleepy-eyed scientists. Just as the CAT commander walked over to remind him to get a move-on, the mountain

blasted a huge eruption unlike any of the previous ones. It was 5:55 a.m.

The instant the eruption started, everyone, including the most novice volcanologists,

knew it was “the big one.” It was an enormous lateral blast, not a tall vertical one like the pre43

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Chapter 5 BLACK SATURDAY

Just after dawn on June 15, 1991, Mount

Pinatubo started its series of cataclysmic

eruptions that were ten times larger than

Mount Saint Helens.
vious “photo-ops,” as Dave Harlow had called

them. Almost instantly an area approximately

10 kilometers (6 miles) wide boiled up to the

bases of the clouds. Lucky spoke urgently into

his brick, “Hawkeye, Lucky, blow the siren.”

Hoblitt turned to the CAT commander with

a look of desperate accusation and shouted, “See

that! You see that, goddammit! That’s exactly

what I didn’t want to happen!”1

Col Bruce Freeman, vice commander of

Thirteenth Air Force and JTF-Fiery Vigil* chief

of staff, recalled the explosion. “The entire

mountain ridge just opened up. I had a wideangle [camera] lens from 12

miles away and it was wider

than my lens.”2

M e rc u ry said, “I was

staying at the command post

and sleeping in my car . . . and

I had parked my car so I was

looking right at the mountain.

Wherever you were, you were

dead tired. I was sitting behind

the wheel of the car, and I had

gone to sleep in there about 4,

and I woke up at almost 6, and

the sirens were going off. Cars

were all around me going just as fast as they

could. I said, well, we must have gotten the

order to evacuate. I looked up [at the volcano]

and there was this wall going laterally instead of

vertically. All the others that we were able to see

were shots that went straight up. They just shot

straight up until it was like they ran out of steam

. . . . This one was just expanding as you

watched it . . . didn’t look like it was even 10,000

feet high and in the middle of it were lightning

bolts. All I could think about was the geologists

telling us the lateral ones are the killers.”3

Inside the Dau command post, some of the

drums had already stopped working. The volcanologists assumed that the blast destroyed the

stations nearest the mountain. The ash spread

rapidly across the horizon and huge sheets of

pyroclastic flows cascaded down the flanks of

the mountain. Gator, Eagle and Lucky huddled

for a moment in the command post and quickly

made the decision to abandon the base.

Lucky told Hawkeye to instruct everyone

to continue the evacuation to the college. The

beards and the CAT grabbed their knapsacks,

backpacks, and gym bags and hurriedly left the

command post.

One principle of an emergency evacuation

is to check to make sure everyone knows an

evacuation is taking place, so Gator and others

swept through the building looking for stragglers. At the back of the building, he discovered

Personnel Bobbitt pitching cases of MREs into a

truck.

Colonel Freeman recalled the story.

“General Studer ordered him [to get moving]. As

Bobbitt continued to throw the cases into the

truck, he said, ‘I can’t leave yet, General, I’ve got

to take care of my guys.’ The general insisted.

Bobbitt threw another armload of food into the

truck and dashed off for the college.”4

As Lucky swept the building he found

Mercury on the telephone with

a re p o rter from Stars and

Stripes, who had not been particularly friendly to the base in

her reporting over the past couple of years.

Lucky said, “C’mon,

Merc, we gotta go.”

Rand smiled and laid the

phone on the table. As they

s t rode from the room, both

could hear the reporter saying,

“Ron? Ron? Are you still

there?”

Long strokes of lightning flashed through

the ash cloud, the byproduct of enormous static

charges from the friction of the massive explosion of ash into the air. In just a matter of a few

moments, the first feeder band† from Yunya had

moved across the base and a light rain started to

fall from the darkening clouds.

Lucky took two of the volcanologists in his

staff car, and they joined the convoy on the

MacArthur Highway just outside the Dau gate.

The locals seemed unperturbed by the stream of

vehicles joining their usual Saturday morning

traffic. The convoy was moving slowly, and an

hour later the car had traveled only half the distance to the college.

Ed Wolfe, who had replaced Dave Harlow

only a few days earlier,

‡ admitted he had second

thoughts about leaving. He reasoned that some

of the seismographs were still operational, so it

was still possible to monitor the volcano.

Further, he stated, any PFs that had come from

the blast would be gone by now. Lucky asked

him if he thought they could return, and after

some discussion among the geologists, Wolfe

said he was willing to go back. In fact, he wanted to go back.

The feeder band from the typhoon had

already passed and the sun was shining. Lucky

pulled the staff car off the road into a dry rice

paddy and started working the radios with Gator

and Eagle. He explained the situation. They

44

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

“All I could think about

was the geologists telling

us that the lateral ones

are the killers”

* Joint Task Force-Fiery Vigil was activated June 10, 1991. It is discussed in greater

detail in Chapter 7.

† A thin band of clouds and rain preceding the main body of the typhoon.

‡ Harlow was en route to the United States as part of the USGS scheduled rota -

tion of personnel.
quickly formulated a plan to take two 44-man

security police flights, the volcanologists, and a

few others back. Their objectives would be to

monitor the volcano and guard the weapons

stored in the MSA. In fact, neither Gator nor

Eagle had left the base. Both were waiting at the

main gate, reluctant to leave the helm of their

command until they were sure everyone was

gone.

The small group of less than a hundred

formed up in the dry rice paddy and headed

back to Clark. When they drove back onto the

base, they found it just as they had left it. No

ash. Everything was green. Clouds again

shrouded Pinatubo.

Although Jim Weed and

his workers had switched off

the main power station, the

generators at Dau were still

running. The air conditioning

was still on, and as the small

band entered the drum room,

nothing had changed since they

had left. It appeared that their

hopes were realized, and the

prevailing winds were carrying

the ash away from the base.

The security police

quickly re-established security around the MSA,

and Hawkeye controllers checked out communications gear. Volcanologists returned the few

drums still alive to reporting status. Everything

worked properly, powered by the dual-redundant emergency generators built into the old

building.

Gator and Eagle conversed with people at

the college via the bricks. It quickly became evident to everyone that the brick net’s central station at Dau provided communication to all the

Ash Warriors. The system was not designed to

work at such long distances, but it was doing the

job. Lt Col Charlie Hall’s communications

troops had done a superb job hooking everything

together.

Some security forces not on post at the

MSA resumed patrolling the housing areas and

some storage areas that contained valuable

items. Their Philippine Air Force law enforcement partners had stayed on the base. A few

looters were spotted and chased away, but there

did not seem to be many thieves waiting for their

chance to rob an American

home or warehouse.

Jim Mori, a newcomer to

the USGS-PHIVOLCS team,

had arrived that morning from

Hawaii to study the volcano.

He wrote, “I had left the hotel

in Manila and had a leisurely

drive to Clark Air Base with an

Embassy driver. When I got to

Clark, the USGS people were

milling around the front gate

waiting to get back on the base.

They looked terrible and didn’t

seem to have a very positive attitude about

things in general. I was beginning to wonder

what kind of situation I was getting into. Driving

into PVO that morning was the only time I saw

anything green on the base.

“One of the PHIVOLCS people brought

doughnuts into the observatory [drum room].

Everyone seemed to really enjoy that. I only

realized the significance of that later after 2

45

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

“I had a wide-angle

[camera] lens from 12

miles away and it was

wider than my lens”

Different from the

preceding eruptions

this was a tremen -

dous lateral blast

approximately 6

miles wide and

quickly reaching

the base of the

clouds.
weeks of MREs. (Which reminds me of the

scrambles when a new box of MREs was opened,

and everyone tried to get their favorite meal.)”5

Lucky, who had not left the command post

for nearly four days, decided to get a view of the

base from where the security forces were working. He drove from Dau westward across the

runways and the parking apron, then went up

Dau Avenue past Chambers Hall. He turned left

at the high-rise, then right on Wirt-Davis and

slowly cruised west along the parade field.

Before he got to General Studer’s quarters at the

far west end of the parade field he heard

Gladiator telling Eagle on the brick that it was

getting dark with ash on the

hill. Gladiator said he was

withdrawing his troops fro m

the area because the ash was

too thick to see anything anyway. Eagle agreed.

The CAT commander

stopped his car on Wirt-Davis

and waited. Suddenly, the area

behind Thirteenth Air Forc e

h e a d q u a rters started turn i n g

black from the ground to the

sky. The darkness was moving

v e ry slowly east and as it

moved past street lights and

porch lights, those lights disapp e a red as though they were

switched off.

The CAT commander transmitted on his

brick, “Eagle, Lucky.”

The wing commander responded immediately, “Go ahead Lucky.”

“The ash up here is very thick. Get everybody back to Dau right away.”

“Roger that, Lucky,” Colonel Grime

answered, and the brick net was suddenly saturated with calls between Hawkeye, Eagle,

Gladiator, Pioneer, and other officers out with

the police to withdraw to Dau.

The black ash cloud was only a hundred

yards from Lucky’s staff car when he did a 180

turn over the curb, through some shrubbery,

back over the curb onto Wirt-Davis. He turned

on his emergency flashing lights, for no good

reason since there was no one to see them, and

raced the ash cloud east towards the Dau command post.

By the time he got to the flightline, the ash

cloud was almost upon him, and it was starting

to rain again. The darkness chasing him was like

watching the old television soap opera lead-in

for “The Edge of Night,” where the darkness of

night moved slowly across the screen. There

was daylight in front of him,

but right behind him was a

black curtain. When he was

only a hundred yards from the

Dau command post, the cloud

enveloped the staff car. He

stopped. Forward visibility

was less than ten feet, and the

soft ash, mixed with light rain,

covered the windshield. He

t u rned on the windshield

wipers, but they only made a

chocolate mess of the stuff.

The windshield washers took

enough of it away to keep the

car creeping slowly forward,

but he had to hold the washer

button down constantly for

the washers to be effective. He knew he had

arrived when the front of the car bumped into

something solid – the corner of the Dau command post building. He turned off the car,

jumped out, followed the wall to a doorway and

stepped into the building.

The drums, the weather radar and the

weather station’s barograph told the story. At

10:27 a.m. the volcano went into a series of continuous explosive eruptions. The weather station’s barograph, which measured atmospheric

pressure in inches of mercury, pulsed each time

the volcano erupted.6 The volcanologists used

the pulses to help determine the start of an eruption when it was not possible to see the volcano.

Some base personnel, most notably General

Studer, could feel the atmospheric pulse in their

ears whenever the volcano exploded.

Observers in PVO watched the ash move

across the runway. The emergency lighting

along the airfield had not been turned off in the

rush to evacuate right after sunrise. One by one

the lights disappeared as the ash cloud

enveloped them. By midday it was totally dark

outside.

46

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Pumice rocks, the size of

peach pits, were pelting

down among the raining

mud, and one earthquake

after another slammed

across the base

Clouds of volcanic

ash rained down

on the base and

for many miles

into the surround -

ing countryside.

Smaller eruptions

would have the

same result for

weeks afterward.
Hunkered Down

Winds from Typhoon Yunya weakened

when it made landfall on the southeast shore of

Luzon, and the typhoon became Tropical Storm

Yunya. However, the storm continued to drop

large amounts of rain as it sauntered northwest

and passed about 50 miles from Pinatubo.

Eagle and Gladiator withdrew all security

forces to the Dau command post, and there they

waited. Many stood under the building overhang and wondered if it were raining mud or

mudding rain. Satellite photography would

later reveal that the top of the ash cloud was

nearly 240 miles in diameter at an altitude of 18

miles.7

Shortly after the ash cloud moved over the

base, the earthquakes started, and these were

earthquakes that pounded through the base and

rattled the command post. The volcanologists

were able to estimate the magnitude of the temblors, and most ranged between 3 and 5.6 on the

Richter scale.8 A discussion began among the

volcanologists and the officers about the possibility of a caldera forming. As ash and other

materials were blown from a volcano, a chamber

would start to form under the mountain. When

the roof of the chamber became weak enough, it

would collapse into the void and, in turn, be

blown out of the volcano by the eruptions,

which, in turn, would cause the void to enlarge,

weaken, and then collapse again. This cycle

would continue until the volcano ran out of

energy. If the eruptions were big enough, the

end result would be a crater where once was a

mountain. The scientists agreed that Pinatubo

would become a caldera before it was done. The

only question in their minds was how big the

caldera would be.

At 2:00 p.m., only one monitoring station

was transmitting data back to PVO; the other six

had been destroyed by the volcano. Pumice

rocks, the size of peach pits, were pelting down

among the raining mud, and one earthquake

after another slammed across the base.9 Those

outside could hear a continuous low roaring

noise that some equated to the sound of a subway train in the distance. The volcanologists

identified the eerie roar as lahars (mudflows)

raging through the Abacan and Sacobia rivers on

either side of the base.

One reason for selecting the Dau command

post as the alternate site was that the route from

Dau to the Pampanga Agricultural College

crossed no bridges. Eagle sent a scout team to

check the route to make sure it was passable.

While they waited, they ordered everyone into

the center room of the command post. It seemed

the logical action to put as much building

between them and a mudflow, or even a small

pyroclastic flow.

The new volcanologist, Jim Mori, said, “I

was scrounging around the seismic gear, trying

to look at the data and recording system when

Tom Murray told me that everyone was moving

to the back of the building. I recall walking back

there with everyone and then hearing about the

possibility of pyroclastic flows coming our way.

To me it was a very surrealistic scene with everyone seemingly calm in the midst of all the stuff

coming down on top of us from the volcano. For

some strange reason I was very conscious of

standing on the false floors in that room. I was

thinking, ‘What in the hell was I doing in this

place? This was sure a stupid idea, volunteering

to come to the Philippines!’ I had spent the

night in a nice hotel and had a good breakfast

several hours before in Manila, and now suddenly I was standing in this strange stark room

with a bunch of people I didn’t know, waiting for

our building to be overwhelmed by a pyroclastic

flow.”10

47

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Typhoon rain

turned to cement

when mixed with

falling ash.

A hot lahar roars

down the Abacan

River watershed

very close to

Clark AB.
The Final Bugout

The scout team reported that the evacuation route to the college was passable, and Eagle

ordered the small team to abandon the base. It

was no longer possible to guard anything, and

the only remaining objective still attainable was

to get everyone out of harm’s way.

The building emptied immediately as people grabbed anything they could carry and headed for their vehicles. Rand’s account of the final

evacuation tells the story vividly.

“ E v e ryone was exhausted. There ’s an

adrenaline rush that keeps you going, but in a lot

of ways you’re brain dead . . .

y o u ’ re just not making good

decisions . . . you do stuff

instinctively or automatically

that turns out to be right, but

you don’t think it thro u g h .

Maybe that’s a function of

experience and training and

y o u ’ re just responding that

way. I know everyone was real

tired, the geologists, the commanders, everybody was just

watching and waiting and seeing what it was going to do. I

know I thought we’d made it through and nothing was going to be happening, [but] about noon

it turned pitch black. I mean it was so black that

everyone went outside. It was darker than any

night I’ve ever seen. And it was the first wave of

all that ash that we’d seen in the morning, the

first wave of it finally reaching us. But then it

just came down in a torrent and it was mixed

with rain from Typhoon Yunya, and it was just

unbelievable. As you stood out in it, it began to

get chunky, it wasn’t just drops of mud anymore,

it was little pebbles and it started out kind of

grainy, then it got bigger and more granulated

and then it got [to] golf-ball-size stones coming

down.

“Around 2:00 p.m., the building we were

in began just shaking, really badly. They lost the

last of the instruments they had on the mountain, and that’s when they said now is the time

for all the good guys to leave Clark. These

[earthquakes] were some pretty bad ones, and . .

. the building was really shaking so badly that I

was beginning to edge near the doorway because

I wanted to be able to get out quickly if it started

to collapse.

“They said let’s go. I still didn’t have a

map, I still didn’t have the directions to the college. Visibility now was a hundred times worse

or a thousand times worse than it would have

been in the morning, but I figured that’s not a

problem. I’d just get in this caravan of vehicles

and follow them up. You couldn’t see that far in

front of your car, even when you had your windshield wiper washing because of the darkness

and the rain and the ash fall. You couldn’t see

the lights of the car in front of you.

“I remember carrying out my case of ginger

ale* and I grabbed a sleeping bag and all the

notes I’d been making for the last week or so and

a case of MREs and I went to the car with all this

stuff pelting me and everyone running for their

cars. I said, good, I’ll just fall in line behind

someone here. By the time I put the stuff in the

car, got the engine started, and drove to where I

knew the road was, there weren’t any other cars

in the line.

“Well, I knew how to get

o ff base and out to the

MacArthur Highway and to the

freeway, but after that I had no

clue where we were going.

Couple of minutes after I got in

the car the windshield washer

stopped working because the

jets got all clogged up from the

mud, so I had to roll my window down and start using the

ginger ale. I’d just hold the can

at the top of the windshield

where I was looking and just have a steady slow

pour with the wipers going and keep the little

sliver of the windshield open. But it was really

rocky, muddy stuff that was coming down and

the wiper couldn’t do a very good job.

“[There was every] manner of pedestrian

that you can imagine, bikers, people pushing

carts with all their belongings on it, people riding in carts being pulled by water buffaloes. [It]

looked like everybody in the city was evacuating

to the same place we were, the same direction

we were going.

“Once I got out onto the freeway, [I] was

completely lost, and I was hesitant about using

my brick. I had never learned how to use the

private function on the brick. There was a way

you could dial somebody’s brick number and

talk only to him without talking on the open net.

I hadn’t learned how to do that, and I didn’t

want to get on the brick with maybe hundreds of

people listening in and say, ‘This is Mercury and

I’m lost.’ Anyhow, eventually, I did that.

“I called Col Art Corwin, who was the

[deputy] security police commander, his call

sign was Pioneer. I said ‘Hi, Pioneer, this is

Mercury . . . I think I’m on the National Highway

and I don’t know for sure where we’re going and

wonder if you could give me some directions.’ I

knew Pioneer was out there somewhere because

he was one of the last ones to leave the base.

48

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Those from the north

were fleeing south, and

those from the south

were fleeing north

* The CAT commander had directed everybody to take a case of soda to supple -

ment the limited drinking water at the college.
“Immediately, I mean even before he could

respond, General Studer got on [the brick] and

said, ‘Where you at, Merc?’ and he gave me

directions. Well, you couldn’t see where you

were going anyhow, so I just decided to follow

the traffic and see where it went. I finally got to

the college about 18 or 19 cans of soda and 4

hours later to go the 10 miles.”11

Many in the convoy to the college shared

Colonel Rand’s experience. The streets in Dau

and Mabalacat were choked with terr i f i e d

Filipinos who were fleeing in every direction.

One Mabalacat city official was standing in the

middle of the street trying to unsnarl a melange

of jeepneys, bicycles, mopeds, and wooden carts

loaded with refugees. The total chaos was

beyond control. Those from the north were fleeing south, and those from the south were fleeing

north. Thousands only wanted to go in the same

direction as the Americans.12

Jim Mori left the Dau command post with

his US Embassy driver. “As people went outside

the building they began to frantically throw

things in the trucks and cars and headed out as

fast as they could. The one exception was that

g reat guy in charge of supplies [Personnel

Bobbitt], who was handing out the six-packs of

Cherry Coke at the doorway.

“My most vivid memories of that day are

stepping outside the Dau complex into the mess

coming down. It was pitch black outside and we

couldn’t see more than a couple hundred feet. It

was pretty disconcerting to have all this sandy

material coming down out of the sky, along with

being pelted by the bigger chunks of pumice.

The sounds were overwhelming with the clatter

of the pumice hitting the metal roof and cars and

the thunder going on above us. One of the most

frightening things was this low roar in the background that . . . probably was a lahar going down

a nearby river valley. I was pretty staggered

when I first got outside, but after I regained a little composure, it was interesting watching other

people come out the door. I could tell from their

expressions they were experiencing the same

sort of feelings of amazement.

“The entire drive out to the agricultural

college, I was trying to keep my driver calm. He

kept saying things I couldn’t understand and

crossing himself. I’m sure I was just as scared as

[he], but I figured we would never get to our fallback position unless I showed some confidence.

We would have to stop every 10 to 15 minutes to

clean off the windshield and we independently

came to the same conclusion as all the other

vehicles that Cherry Coke made good windshield cleaner fluid. When I was packing for my

trip, my wife had given me a pair of swimming

goggles, saying that it might help me to see during an eruption. I thought it was a little silly at

the time, but it turned out to be a real lifesaver.

Taking my turn to go outside to clean the windshield, it was hard to see and painful on the

eyes, without wearing the goggles.”13

When the evacuation order was given,

Lucky ran through the command post building

searching for sleepers that had not heard the

order. Once assured the building was clear, he

grabbed a case of ginger ale and went out to his

staff car. It was covered with two or three inches of heavy, wet ash. He pushed most of the

sludge off the driver-side windshield, threw the

case of ginger ale on the passenger seat and started the car. When he tried the wipers they

worked, but the windshield washer was empty.

He had forgotten to refill it after his mad dash

back to the command post earlier in the day. He

looked around and could see no other vehicles,

and just as he was about to start walking a large,

security police, four-wheel-drive vehicle came

around the corner and stopped beside him.

He opened the passenger door of the jeep

and looked inside. A young airman was driving

the vehicle. In the rear seat was a young man

49

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Lahars washed

across the main

road to Hill

Housing.

Base housing after

the cataclysmic

eruptions.

Some called it

“nuclear winter.”
Lucky recognized as one of General Studer’s

bodyguards. On the seat beside the bodyguard

sat a small dog that was whimpering and shivering as he cowered against the bodyguard. The

young driver looked at Lucky and said very

calmly and firmly, “Colonel, if you’re coming

with us, you need to get in. Right NOW!”14

As the falling pumice stone tattooed the

roof of the vehicle, another earthquake slammed

through the parking lot. The CAT commander

retrieved his bugout gym bag from the staff car,

threw the case of ginger ale on the floor of the

jeep and jumped in. The driver started moving

slowly forward, found the exit gate and turned

toward the main highway.

As the jeep moved slowly

into the seething mass of

refugees, a young woman

walked beside the car and held

up her infant child. “Take my

b a b y, please. Please!” she

pleaded. Lucky rolled down

his window and shouted, “No.

No. Keep it with you; we’ll

never be able to find you again.

You’ll be okay. Keep walking that way,” he

pointed toward the college. The young woman,

tears streaming down her face, melted into the

crowd. She vanished in the throng of people

that carried clothes on their heads and small

children in their arms.

Hell at Subic Bay

At Subic Bay, Cubi Point, and San Miguel

naval stations, where 15,000 Air Force evacuees

and several thousand Navy troops and families

were crammed into every nook and cranny of the

three installations, the situation was no better

and continued to get worse throughout the night.

The ash fall and earthquakes were just as severe

for them as for the Ash Warriors huddled at the

college.

The inlet of Subic Bay was the Navy’s best

deep-water port in the western Pacific. Subic

Bay Naval Station was the main base of the complex. Cubi Point Naval Air Station abutted the

main base and featured a runway capable of

accommodating large commercial and military

t r a n s p o rt aircraft. Approximately 15 miles

northwest of Subic Bay sat San Miguel Naval

Station, a small, former Vietnam-era communications facility.

15

Subic Bay and San Miguel were 20 miles

from the volcano. They were selected as evacuation locations because USGS-PHIVOLCS advisors and Clark’s planners thought the Navy complex was well outside the reach of deadly pyroclastic flows. They also thought the Navy bases

would be clear of heavy ash fall. In this second

thought, they were wrong, for ash and mud

poured down on the bases in the same quantities

as Clark, which was only half the distance from

the exploding mountain. The wild card that

trumped the planner’s good intentions was the

inopportune arrival of Typhoon Yunya.

In May, USGS-PHIVOLCS scientists, in

concert with Air Force meteorologists, produced

an ash fall warning map. The map predicted

where ash might fall, and the predictions were

based on the seasonal, prevailing winds. The

areas predicted for exposure to moderate ash did

not include the Subic Bay complex.16

As Yunya marc h e d

t h rough central Luzon, its

winds encountered the enormous ash cloud hanging over

the bases and the effect was

like a whirling electric mixer

being thrust into a bowl of

pancake batter. Instead of

being carried away by prevailing winds, the ash was continually recycled over the bases

and, soaked by Yunya’s rainfall, it clumped to the ground in prodigious

quantities.

Clark evacuees and Navy residents cowered in shelters and homes as earthquakes rolled

through the base, huge trees crashed to the

ground, and buildings collapsed throughout the

afternoon and night of Black Saturday. As at

Clark, the raining goo blocked out the sun.

Electrical power had been turned off the previous day and total darkness enveloped the Navy

complex, punctuated frequently by colore d

lightning bolts that were blue, red, or green.

One evacuee, Eagle’s wife and the mother

of their two young sons, wrote in a letter to family and friends, “The sky is very dim, and getting

darker by the hour. The typhoon, now a tropical

s t o rm, is upon us, with the afternoon and

evening to be the worst. Somebody discovers

that the Officers’ Club is serving coffee and some

food. The ash and rain continue to fall. Again,

we sit outside and listen to the radio.

Apparently the big eruption has happened/is

ongoing. [We] take our umbrellas and walk a

half block to the club for lunch, where they have

a sandwich bar set up. There are lots of candles

burning and a pianist plays in the background.

At noon, I notice that, looking out the window,

you can no longer differentiate between land

and sky – it is totally pitch-black. You can’t

move around outside at all without a flashlight.

“The rest of the afternoon is spent at our

room, out on the front ‘porch,’ looking out at the

blackness, listening to the wind and rain. Soon

we are listening to loud cracks as the branches

50

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

“Colonel, if you’re

coming with us, you need

to get in. Right NOW!”
from the huge old trees that surround our building begin to break off with great crashing noises.

We also begin to feel the tremors, some of which

are quite strong indeed, which go on more or less

constantly all day and night. They don’t bother

me much because we are essentially outside

already in case things start falling, plus last summ e r’s earthquake re g i s t e red nearly 8 on the

Richter scale, and Clark suffered little from it.

What bothered me more was the unrelenting barrage of thunder and lightning, all of which was

right on top of our heads from the sounds of it. I

was really sick and tired of that before long. The

boys stayed occupied playing cards and other

games by candle light, with two . . . neighbors at

Clark, whose mother was nearly smushed [sic]

by a huge branch that fell up onto the porch,

where she was sitting, stopping about 6 inches

from her feet.

“At some point, the local military radio

station went off the air, and our water quit running, so things were getting pretty grim. Our

roof started making cracking noises periodically,

so we’d frantically search with our flashlights

for signs of collapse, but could never find anything. The weight of the wet ash was tremendous, and one section of gutter in the front

where we sat broke off, so we kept expecting the

worst. Finally, we [would] drag off to bed reluctantly – it’s so hot in the rooms, plus you have to

burn a precious candle to see anything. Lying on

the bed, sweating, shaking with the tremors and

worrying about the roof falling in is not conducive to a good night’s sleep, believe me.

“Sure enough, about 5 a.m., there’s a great

loud CRACK! I leap out of the bed, shout ‘Get

out!’ at the boys, smack into Ricky who has

jumped up in the pitch black, Stuart is shouting

for the flashlight so he can get down from his

(very high) top bunk. We all get outside with

everyone else, to discover the overhang all along

the back side of the building has fallen down.

The good news is that we realize the sky is not

black anymore – just dim gray, but still daylight.”17

Navy engineers, augmented by about 120

of Col Jim Goodman’s engineers from Clark,

moved frantically from building to building at

the Navy bases in a effort to assess the structural

integrity of buildings loaded down with wet ash.

Goodman recalled, “There was a building right

across the street from the Sampaguita Club that

we were able to get about 130 people out of

about a half-hour before it caved in.”18 Rescuers

guided the frightened mass into the Sampaguita

Club where they packed into the building with

others seeking refuge from the ash fall. During

the rest of the night, officers and sergeants tried

to keep people calm in hot, close conditions

with no light and the threat of the building’s concrete ceiling caving in at any minute. To abate

the threat, Goodman assembled a team of volunteers to go onto the roof to clear away the five

inches of wet ash that had accumulated. Not

many tools were available, and some of the volunteers shoveled with plastic cafeteria trays.19

Others were not so fortunate. When the

roof of the high school gymnasium started to

creak and groan under the weight, sentries hurriedly ordered everyone from the building and

evacuees scrambled for their lives. Nearly

everyone made it, but not all. Falling debris

killed the nine year-old daughter of an Air Force

couple and their eighteen-year old niece.20

The College

The ash did not fall as heavily at the college. The streets of the small campus were

jammed with vehicles of every size and description. Three buildings in the center of the campus formed a large U-shape. Vehicles packed the

area inside the U. Exhausted troops filled all the

classrooms on the ground floors. Many had simply dropped everything where there was an

open space and then collapsed on top of their

gear. The school gymnasium and auditorium

was wall-to-wall troops. Conversation was

muted as most sat quietly and contemplated the

previous five days.

General Studer and his JTF-Fiery Vigil

staff, along with the CAT, reconstituted their

respective headquarters in a large classroom on

the second floor of one of the larger buildings.21

The mood in the room was somber as communications troops hooked up radios to portable generators.* A quick accounting of personnel by

unit had started as soon as the first of the mission essential team arrived at the college. When

the last 100 arrived late that afternoon, the count

was complete and all were accounted for.

Several people carried small commercial

radios, and one of them reported that news

bureaus in the United States were saying that

everyone at Clark had been killed. Colonel Rand

overheard one of the reports and found a combat

communications team with their portable equipment in a jeep. The clever communicators were

able to contact a station in Manila that patched

him to Guam that connected them to a station in

Hawaii that connected them to a station in

Atlanta that connected them to Cable News

Network (CNN) headquarters. The effort took

over two hours, but when it was complete,

Mercury was able to sit on a wooden stool beside

a jeep in the middle of the Philippines and

report directly to CNN. He told them that all

51

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

* One high-frequency (HF) radio and two ultra-high frequency satellite communi -

cation (UHF-SATCOM) radios.
1,500 of the mission essential force were safe at

the Pampanga Agricultural College. One person

had a broken arm, but there did not seem to be

any other injuries.22

Colonels Murphy and White had planned

well. Everyone that wanted an MRE had them,

and several water trailers were set up at strategic

points to serve the exhausted men and women.

The thousands of refugees that followed the

Americans to the college were a thorny problem.

The college was bursting at the seams with the

Americans, and the Filipino refugees could not

go any farther. So, they stopped and slept where

they were. Compassionate airmen “commandeered” some water and rations for the refugees

nearest the college, but the masses could not be

reached and thus spent a miserable night on the

flanks of Mount Arayat, the extinct volcano ten

miles east of Clark.

Although the ash fall subsided considerably, rain from Yunya continued to soak those

not under cover. The frequency of the earthquakes reduced, but the ones that came were

hard jolts that rattled the buildings.

Once plans were made to return to the base

at first light the next morning, the mission essential force quietly settled in for the night. Many

refused to sleep in the college buildings because

of the constant earthquakes and slept in their

cars. Lucky, and the security police commander,

Gladiator, slept in the back of Gladiator’s command vehicle. They had to put the rear gate

down to stretch out, so throughout the night,

Yu n y a ’s rain soaked their sleeping bags.

However, as the earthquakes rolled through, the

vehicle rocked gently, and they slept the sleep of

the dead.

Mercury recalled, “The guys we were with

showed me the room they had staked out some

floor space in. I was only in there 20 minutes. It

was on the second floor of this concrete building, and I said I didn’t live through the evacuation to get crushed in this building tonight. My

NCOs* and I found a little sari-sari† store . . .

which was selling warm San Miguel‡ beer. We

had two or three beers and I went back to my car

and was asleep before my head hit the back.”23

Harlan E. Mikkelson, then a staff sergeant

in the mounted horse patrol, recalled. “When

we went out to the college that first night, we

slept in an auditorium. Everyone was sleeping

on the floors with whatever they had, and an

earthquake shook the building, and no one even

moved. The earth was shaking, and no one

moved. It was like, ‘I'm too tired to move.’ No

one got out. No one runs to the doors. No one

got excited or nothing. It was like, ‘I've been

through too much already.’”24

The volcanologists gathered in a ro o m

down the hall from the makeshift command

post. Mori recalled, “Sitting there in the dark in

a second floor room of one of the buildings, we

were feeling lots of earthquake. There was not

much to do so we began to time the events,

which were coming at the rate of more than one

a minute for a couple of hours. I recall Rick

Hoblitt pulling out one of [his] books and, using

a little penlight, [beginning] to read aloud. He

read accounts of what was thought to have happened at the caldera-forming eruption at Crater

Lake, and we started talking about what should

be the appropriate fallback distance for our situation.”25

Whether they were far enough away was a

moot point. Lying on concrete floors, sitting in car

seats, curled up on field packs, unable to even

b rush the caked ash from hair and clothing, the

exhausted force of Ash Wa rriors could do no more .

52

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

* Non-commissioned officers.

† Primitive convenience store.

‡ Local beer favoredby generations of military men and women serving in the Philippines.

NOTES TO CHAPTER 5

1 Author's journal, Chap 9, p 1.

2 Freeman interview.

3 Rand interview.

4 Freeman interview.

5 Letter, Jim Mori to author, n.d. [hereafter cited as Mori letter].

6 Fire and Mud, p 627.

7 Ibid., p 13.

8 Ibid., p 630.

9 Ibid., p 13.

10 Mori letter.

11 Rand interview.

12 Interview, Guy Hilbero with author, October 30, 1991.

13 Mori letter.

14 Author's journal, Chap 9, p 4.

15 Fire and Mud, p 77.

16 Ibid.

17 Letter from Julie Grime, July 1991, on file PACAF/HO.

18 Goodman interview.

19 Letter, Goodman to family and friends, June 1991.

20 US Embassy SITREP, 160857Z Jun 91.

21 Letter, 13 AF/CC to USCINCPAC, Subj: First Impressions Report-Oper -

ation Fiery Vigil, July 16, 1991, p 1.

22 Rand interview.

23 Ibid.

24 Mikkelson interview.

25 Mori letter.
Chapter 6

On the morning of June 16, 1991, the Ash Warriors, led by Col Bill Dassler, cautiously

returned to Clark Air Base in two humvees* and a Jeep Cherokee. Crowds of refugees from

Angeles, Dau, and Mabalacat lined the roads as the small convoy eased through the masses.

The crowds silently watched the small American contingent pass.

The day was hazy, almost like a bad smog day in the Los Angeles basin, but the reduced

visibility was from small flakes of dry ash in the air. The closer to Clark the convoy came, the

deeper the ash. Collapsed buildings littered the villages through which they passed. Roofs,

trees, vehicles, sidewalks, streets, and signs were caked with a thick, dark gray layer that was

the result of the collision of Pinatubo and Yunya.

Dassler and his men, who thought they were the first security forces to return to the base,

got a surprise just outside the entrance to the base. Security police forces of the “Town

Patrol,”† were on the MacArthur Highway directing traffic. When Dassler stopped to inquire

as to how and why they had returned so quickly, he was told by a young sergeant that they

really had never left. Their job was to direct traffic during the evacuation, so they just stayed

and directed traffic rather than abandon their posts.1 Their uniforms nearly were unrecognizable under the coating of ash. A thin powder covered their skin where it was bare. To Dassler,

it seemed amazing, but they were still wearing the blue beret that is the trademark of USAF

security forces. Somehow, they had managed to keep the caps relatively clean.2

Taking Stock

The small convoy entered the base near a cemetery that held several hundred remains

of American and Philippine military veterans. The American flag still flew over the grave

markers jutting out of the ash, a red, white, and blue splash of color over a dead-gray sea.

Gladiator directed one vehicle to check the MSA and the other to check the main armory

where hundreds of weapons were stored. The emergency generators at the Dau command post

were still chugging away, thanks to the elaborate air filtration system that kept ash out of the

motors. The generators powered the brick system, so Dassler was able to radio from his jeep

back to the college to send more security forces. He answered everyone’s first question when

he said the base was still there. The worst of the ash fall seemed to have passed.

Eagle, implemented a phased approach to restoring operations at the devastated base.

Phase 1 initiated a small reconnaissance team to assess the damage. Phase 2 included USGS

scientists and a small command element. Phase 3 brought in a 44-man security police flight

to secure the munitions storage area. Phase 4 initiated plans to assist Filipino refugees.3

A second contingent of security forces, as well as General Studer and the wing commander, was not far behind Dassler and entered the base a short time later. As they maneuvered around debris, they were stunned by what 12 hours of ash, rain, and earthquakes had

made of the once-beautiful base.

NUCLEAR WINTER

The convoy returning to

Clark AB paused tem -

porarily as a farmer sur -

veys his devastated fields.

* High mobility multipurpose wheeled vehicles.

† The Town Patrol was a special unit of the security police that patrolled the liberty areas surrounding Clark. It was composed of law enforcement officers of the

USAF police, Philippine Air Force police, local police and the Philippines Integrated National Police.

53

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
54

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Personnel return

through the same

gate that they had

left.

Eagle, the wing commander, recalled, “We

came to the main gate, and without sounding too

melodramatic, it almost brought tears to the

eyes. We had a base we were really proud of . . .

we’d put a lot of time and effort into making it

the best it had ever been, and you get back and

you see virtually all of the trees destroyed . . .

everything covered with ash . . . the buildings

collapsed.4

Some thought it looked as though a

nuclear war had been fought there. Others

thought it looked like a terrible blizzard had

swept across the province, while others thought

it looked like the moon. Everything was dark

gray. Six to nine inches of heavily compacted

ash covered everything. The streets and sidewalks were indistinguishable. Gray covered

even the street signs. There was no color on the

base, only a sea of gray. Most eerie of all, though,

was the silence. One could stand in the middle

of the base and not hear a sound. It took a

moment to realize why it was so quiet – all the

birds were gone, too.

Many Ash Warriors, after they returned to

the base, related the same sense of total disorientation they felt when they saw the base. One

could stand in an area that seemed familiar, but

at the same time feel totally lost. The huge acacia trees, once proud and beautiful, lay in gray

heaps. All the other trees, shrubs, and bushes

were covered or flattened. Roofs were covered

and even the walls were hidden behind a thin

covering. No matter which way one turned,

everything looked the same – dark gray. It was

disorienting to stand some place that felt familiar, yet have no idea which way to turn to go to

a desired destination. The base was a lumpy,

gray blanket as far as the eye could see.

The wing commander immediately put

some engineers to work assessing the damage,

but much of the devastation was obvious. What

had once been fighter jet shelters along the

flightline were flattened from the tremendous

stresses of wet ash and earthquakes. Several

large supply warehouses, which housed hundreds of millions of dollars of equipment on

some 320,000 square feet of floor space, had

caved in. The base gymnasium looked like a

crumpled piece of wastepaper thrown carelessly

on the floor by a giant hand.

One of the hangars, which was designated

as a sleeping area and rally point to replace the

tent city, had collapsed. It was the one the CAT

selected to provide shelter from Yunya’s winds

and rain. Dumb luck had intervened, however,

because the hangar was never used. The evacuation to the college had saved many lives.

Crushed cots and bedding jutted and fluttered

out of the tangled mass of ash and steel that had

once been the hangar roof.

Most streets were impassable because a

jungle of broken tree branches littered nearly

every street. Some areas were accessible by fourwheel-drive jeeps and the larger, more powerful

humvees. It was nearly impossible to get into

many of the housing areas, even on foot.

Countless downed power lines laced through the

broken branches.

The USGS-PHIVOLCS team found the

PVO to be next to useless. Only the seismometer at Clark was operating; the other six stations

were buried under ash or destroyed by the massive eruptions. They were unable to determine

the scale of the eruptions but were confident it

was of “historic” proportions.5 They estimated

that the eruptions were at least as big as the

Mount Saint Helens eruptions.

Thick ash in the air shrouded Pinatubo,

and although scientists wanted to see what was

going on, it was impossible to fly them up there.

The ash was still thick in the air, and occasionally a large black mass of it would drift across

the base. Based on information from satellite

photographs, which the volcanologists received

on a cellular phone, they learned that the top of

Mount Pinatubo was no longer there. In its place

was a crater 2 to 3 kilometers (1.2 to 1.8 miles) in

diameter.

6

Buildings and

homes covered

with ash from

Mount Pinatubo.
55

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Pyroclastic flows filled the pre-eruption

topography across the Zambales Mountains.

Valleys, which were once hundreds of feet deep,

were filled. Crow Valley, which had been the

site of the bombing targets used during Cope

Thunder exercises, was nearly filled with pyroclastic flow.

A few, who were able to find a path

through the debris into the Hill housing area,

saw that one pyroclastic surge had stopped in

the river bed only 400 yards from what had once

been the homes of Air Force families. The PF

had stopped almost exactly where the beards’

warning maps had predicted.7

The scientists opined

that the worst eruptions were

over, but they were not sure.

F u rt h e r, they assumed eru ptions would continue but not

on the huge scale seen before.

They envisioned a scenario in

which the eruptions would be

more frequent but not as powerful. They estimated a period

of six months to two years of

continuing eruptive activity.

8 Hoblitt and Wolfe

believed the volcano would have to be closely

monitored for the next three to five years.

Lahars

The volcanologists were most concerned

about the likelihood of lahars. Before the eruptions started, they instructed the CAT and the

commanders about the dangers in sessions that

became known as “Mudology 101.” Now the

lessons were becoming a reality. The volcano

had covered the area with uncountable millions

of tons of ash. When it got wet, the ash would

absorb the rain water until it became so heavy

that huge chunks of it would scab off. These

enormous flows of wet ash, the consistency of

wet cement, would then flow wherever gravity

would take them. If there was a large amount of

rainfall, the lahars could sweep away everything

in their path including stones and even large

boulders.

The scientists were certain the lahars

would occur since the rainy season was imminent. Considering the amount of ash Pinatubo

had ejected and the heavy monsoon rains that

usually started in June or July, there was no

doubt in their minds that the provinces around

Clark, especially in low-lying areas, would experience the devastation of lahars for many years to

come.

At this point, the Ash Warriors had already

gotten a taste of what lahars could do. After

checking out the riverbeds it was clear that the

roaring noise all had heard on Black Saturday

was the rumbling of lahars roaring down the

rivers.

Several smaller lahars had washed through

the base as well. Over the many years of Clark’s

existence, an intricate system of drainage ditches were built throughout the base. The ditches

were 10 to 15 feet wide and 6 to 8 feet deep.

During the rainy season, these ditches carried

the water from torrential rains through the base

and out into the watersheds of the Abacan and

Sacobia rivers to the north and south. However,

Yunya and Pinatubo had filled the ditches to

level with ash.

The eruptions of Black

S a t u rd a y, combined with

Yunya’s rains, totally disabled

the system. As ash and rain

poured down, the rain, with no

where to go except where gravity sent it, flowed across the

base in enormously powerful

sheets. One flood had

slammed with such force into

the enlisted club that it blew

the doors and windows in, continued through the building and blew out the

front doors. Another had swept across the golf

course, over a filled drainage ditch along

O’Leary Avenue, and across the parking lot in

front of the base exchange. There it washed

away cars and scattered them like toys. The

flood then caved in the doors to the base commissary.

9

Other floods in the housing area knocked

in doors and spread the muck inside. Only a few

homes were damaged by the sheets of rampant

water and ash, and those suffered considerable

damage to the possessions inside. However, the

roofs of base housing units had held up under

the pressure of the ash, rain, and earthquakes.

None were collapsed because their spans were

The base was a lumpy

gray blanket as far as

the eye could see

The Mactan

housing project

after the eruption.
n a rrow enough to accommodate the extra

weight. The barns along the parade field, with

their steeply pitched corrugated steel roofs, simply shrugged off the wet ash while their wooden

frames flexed with the earthquakes.

Security forces gradually re - e s t a b l i s h e d

the patrol sectors they had established under

their Air Base Ground Defense plan. Eagle

directed that no one was to go on the west side

of the runways unless they

w e re in a four- w h e e l - d r i v e

vehicle, so the police patrolled

open areas and checked houses

as they could. It appeared the

legion of thieves, who had continually plagued the base, had

run like nearly everyone else.

Some Philippine Air Forc e

police had never left the base

for reasons that are unclear.

P o s s i b l y, they were never

directed out of harm’s way, so

they stayed. None was injured

or lost.

Security patrols did not

bother to drive on streets; there

w e re not any streets visible

under the blanket of ash. They

moved through the paths of

least resistance. They did not

find any evidence of looting

either in the housing areas, munitions areas,

armory, or the crushed supply warehouses.

In Mactan housing, the area many called

Hill housing, the ash was particularly deep.

Floods had stacked it two feet high in many

places, and patrollers found pumice rocks the

size of footballs near the westernmost wall of the

base.

Eagle and his command element prioritized their immediate concerns after re-establishing security: water, shelter, food, and communications.

Water and Electricity

One of the initial situation re p o rt s

(SITREPs) from the base indicated that 600,000

gallons of potable water were available.10 The

estimate was based on water stores that were

trapped in large water tanks atop hills on the

base. However, the base civil

engineers, lead by their deputy

c o m m a n d e r, Lt Col Sam

Kinman,* learned some harsh

lessons over the next few days.

Clark’s fresh water supply was provided by a series of

wells on the base. The wells

w e re pumped by electric

motors, and the water moved

24 hours a day into large storage tanks on the hills. A network of supply lines ran from

the tanks’ gravity-fed water to

the homes and work are a s

a c ross the base. The engineers, in accordance with the

plan to evacuate to the college,

had trapped water in the storage tanks because they knew

electrical power could fail

thereby disabling the motors

that pumped the wells. They had done their

homework well and learned lessons from other

bases that had experienced light ash fall from

other volcanoes.

What they did not realize, however, was

that the network of supply lines that ran from

the tanks to faucets and toilets across the base

had been damaged by the continuous earthquakes. So, when they released the water from

the tanks it quickly seeped out of the damaged

sections and was lost. Without electrical power

to drive the pumps, there was no way to refill the

tanks. Initial estimates were that 15 to 20 percent of electrical power could be restored in 24

hours.11 The estimate was overly optimistic.

Electricity was not just around the corner.

Most of the power-generating plant was buried

under wet ash when the roof caved in, and

falling branches had severed power lines across

the base. The power lines that were still standing were useless until they were cleaned off.

The engineers knew the ash was conductive, and

piles of it layered the tops of every transformer

on electrical poles across the base. Substations

and distribution centers were clogged with the

stuff. They had only stiff brushes and rags with

56

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Weight of heavy,

wet ash collapsed

110 buildings at

Clark, among

them this electrici -

ty generating

plant.

Some thought it looked as

though a nuclear war had

been fought there. Others

thought it looked like a

terrible blizzard had swept

across the province, while

others thought it looked

like the moon

* The commander, Col Jim Goodman, was acting as AF Combat Support Group

commander at Subic Bay.
57

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

which to clean the power distribution system.

The enormity of the job dictated the cleaning be

done with high-pressure water hoses and large

volumes of water.

12

Joseph Heller would have loved it – the

perfect “Catch 22.” Without electrical power

they could not get water, but they could not get

electricity until the water was back on.

Goodman, Kinman, and their men had

anticipated the loss of electricity and gathered a

supply of emergency generators that could

power the wells. However, the wells were very

difficult to find because of the blanket of ash

across the base. Even with surveyor’s maps to guide them, the

totally gray base greatly exacerbated the problem. There were no

street corners from which to measure. Brass survey markers were

buried.

The civil engineers attacked

the problems with a vengeance.

SSgt Miguel A. Ley and other

power specialists at the power plant worked to

restore at least one of the generators to working

order. Their biggest problem after cleaning the

generator was how to cool it since the big diesel

motor that spun the generator was water-cooled

by large radiators which laid flat. Once the roof

caved in, the ash piled onto the radiators. One

of Senior Master Sergeant Burke’s workers had

covered one radiator with plastic, but the others

were open to the elements. It took 50 man-hours

to clean the radiator that had been covered, and

150 man-hours to clean the ones not covered.13

Even after the radiator was cleaned,

though, there was no water pressure to run cooling water through it. So, the power plant people

devised an ingenious solution. They brought a

water-pumper truck from the fire station to the

power plant. There, they manufactured a fitting

to attach the fire truck’s water supply to the radiator. When they turned the truck on, it cycled

water through the diesel’s radiator so that the

huge generator could produce electricity.

14

Other engineers started the painstakingly

slow process of locating and digging out wells.

Ley and other workers hooked up portable generators to them. However, none of the wells had

receptacles to which the generators could be easily attached. Ley and his workers had to improvise considerably to hook up the power.

15

Some started the equally difficult process

of locating shut-off valves in order to isolate

damaged sections of the water system. It was an

extremely time consuming process. The CAT

commander assisted by prioritizing specific

buildings for water. This “short list” of which

facilities needed water helped engineers to

determine which valves to close and which to

leave open.16

Food and Shelter

Food was not a problem. The supply of

MREs was virtually unlimited, and although

some troops may not have preferred tuna casserole in a brown plastic pouch, no one went hungry. Vast quantities of food were available in the

base commissary and the dining are a s .

Although the refrigerated and frozen foods were

quickly lost because of no electricity, a nearly

limitless supply of canned goods

was available.17

Shelter was a more difficult

problem. The tent city no longer

existed. It was flattened and

buried. The base was still being

rocked by frequent earthquakes,

and every roof held at least six

inches of wet compacted ash.

Eagle immediately put people to

work shoveling the Dau command post’s broad,

flat roof. It was very slow going. Even though it

was only a few hours old, the ash had settled

into a hard-pack, and it was back-breaking labor.

The roof area of the large Dau building was

10,000 square feet and the ash was compacted to

four inches thick. Therefore, the roof held nearly 400 cubic yards of the gritty, wet “sand.” The

Most eerie of all... 

was the silence

After volcano

eruptions, earth -

quakes and

typhoon,

American and

Philippine airmen

picked their way

through the wreck -

age of the devas -

tated Clark Air

Base to raise the

US flag once again.
58

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

stuff within a few feet of the edge could be shoveled over the side, but the rest had to be carried

to the edge before it could be dumped.

Eagle made two rules: nobody sleeps

inside a building until the roof is clear, and

everybody not on duty guarding the base gets a

shovel and goes to work. Enlisted airmen and

colonels stood shoulder-to-shoulder on the Dau

command post roof moving tons of wet ash slowly to the edge where it could be thrown over the

side.

Communications

Communication among the Ash Warriors

was superb, thanks to the brick network maintained by the 1961st Communications Group

and some innovative phone connections they

made. Controls and the central brick station

were located in the Dau command post, which

had its own electrical generators, so the net

never went off the air. The CAT, the wing commander, and Thirteenth Air Force commander

were always in touch with the troops. When the

decision was made to move to the alternate command post, telephone technicians installed a

visual display unit (VDU) and a remote switchboard at Dau. The equipment allowed technicians to control telephone connections and routings on the entire base from a remote location.18

Communication beyond the base was a different story. The ash and mud flows disabled

the satellite facility that was the nerve center of

military communications to the outside world.

F o rt u n a t e l y, the communications commander

foresaw the possibility of losing use of the satellite facility* and installed an alternate piece of

equipment in the Dau command post.† The

alternative system could not handle the same

volume of messages as the primary, but throughout the days after the major eruptions, the base

was still able to receive and transmit official

message traffic.19

Security

By nightfall on June 16, the small security

force that returned to Clark was bedded down in

the Dau command post. They went to bed very

tired and very dirty. Water buffaloes,‡ some of

which had been filled from the fire department’s

cache of chlorinated water, were stationed at

strategic locations. The water was only for

drinking, however, and bathing with potable

water was not permitted. The gritty ash coated

their bodies under their BDUs. The abrasive

stuff rubbed ankles raw inside their boots and

reddened skin under their belts. It caked in their

hair (some called it “cement-head”), and many

wrapped their heads in bandanas, motorcycle

gang-style, to keep the stuff out. The abrasive

ash was particularly hard on the security forces’

weapons. There was no way to handle the

weapons without rubbing the ash on the metal

finish. The abrasion quickly wore away protective lubrication and the weapons started to rust

in the humid tropical air.

20

By the end of the day on June 19, the entire

mission essential force had returned to Clark

from the college.21 Eagle brought them back in

manageable increments. Security police and

engineers who could work the electrical and

water problems returned first. Support personnel followed. Everyone pitched in to shovel

roofs. Clever carpenters constructed make-shift

“ash pushers” from plywood and scrap lumber

to make the roof clearing operation faster and

e a s i e r. The CAT submitted an emerg e n c y

request for snow shovels. One officer commented that he shoveled ash until he “could not stand

up straight.”22 Their efforts were more than busy

work; buildings and roofs continued to collapse

from the stress of the heavy ash and the shaking

from earthquakes that frequently rolled through

the base.

The mounted horse patrol (MHP) troopers

returned to find that all their horses, as well as

the recreational horses, had survived. The stable

buildings, which had relatively small roofs, had

not collapsed. The horses were not in good conShovels and

brooms are used

to clear the roofs

of remaining

buildings of tons

of ash.

* A not uncommon occurrence during typhoons.

† TEQCOM Z-200.

‡ Water carriers mounted on a small, two-wheel trailer.
dition, though. Some Filipino stable hands had

returned to feed and water the horses, but there

were not enough hands to get each of the nearly

100 horses out for exercise, so the terrified animals were stiff and lame from standing in their

stalls for nearly five days.23

MHP riders acted immediately to rejuvenate the horses. Even though there was little

water on the rest of the base, it flowed freely at

the stables. The stables were at a low area near

the end of the water system. Water was trapped

there, and the MHP used it to water and wash

the horses as well as themselves. Fodder was a

different matter. The horses’ grain feed had to be

supplemented by grazing the

generous pastures around the

stables, and the pastures no

longer existed. SSgt Tony Price

and others started an all-out

effort to find enough hay to

feed all the horses. For several

days, the MHP spent every daylight hour walking the horses

up and down a path where the

road had once been to get the

horses ready for riding.24 Also,

they “recruited” several horses

f rom the re c reational stables

next door to become MHP mounts.

Clark security forces also had over 100 military working dogs assigned to their unit. When

the order was given to retreat to the colleges on

June 15, only half the dogs, the ones on duty,

were taken to the college. The other half were

left in their kennels with food and water. One

dog that was left behind did not survive. It was

buried in a large police dog cemetery that held

the remains of other dogs that had served well

over the decades.25

Across the base, security policeman continued to “eat ash” 24 hours a day. The Air Base

Ground Defense scheme continued to work well,

and thefts on the base dropped to a third of the

level that existed prior to the evacuation of

dependents and non-essential military personnel on June 10.26 The security police commander, Gladiator, attributed the success of his police

to four factors. First, identifying intruders was

easier. Prior to the evacuation, there were thousands of residents, domestics, and other workers

on the base. After the evacuation, if a patroller

saw someone who was not wearing BDUs walking in the housing area or near a supply warehouse, that person was not supposed to be there.

Second, dog handlers were given permission to

unleash their dogs to pursue intruders. Third,

the entire 3d Security Police Group was present

for duty, and they all worked 12-hour shifts.

There were no distractions such as training

meetings, dental appointments, or family matters to reduce the on-duty force. Fourth, the

ABGD scheme put the same patrollers in the

same area every day or night. The police learned

their special turf well, knew likely intrusion

routes and could see when something was out of

place.27

One security sector, in the Hill housing

area closest to the volcano, nicknamed itself

Dark Side Control. The nearly continuous ash

fall in the area and the frequent black ash clouds

that drifted through made it look like the dark

side of the moon. The unit set up operations in

a base house that had been unoccupied before

the evacuation. The Dark Side

C o n t rol commander, Capt

Richard Scott referred to his

58-man contingent as “very

motivated and highly aggressive patrolmen.”

Dark Side Control, as

well as many other contro l

points, maintained a menagerie

of abandoned pets. Many evacuees, who went to Subic Bay

on June 10, left pets in their

q u a rters, assuming a quick

return to the base. Although residents who left

pets behind, put out food and water, those supplies quickly ran out. Police patrolling the 3,000

houses, released many of the pets they discovered to fend for themselves, but some were

adopted by the Ash Warriors. Dark Side Control

had a black Labrador retriever, a couple of rabbits and a parrot.28 Unfortunately some pets died

in their homes of starvation or dehydration.

Hot Meals

During the week after the eruption, a small

contingent of services personnel worked to

59

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

The frequent black ash

clouds that drifted

through made it look like

the dark side of the moon

Heavy erosion

from rushing

water was com -

mon throughout

the base.
re s t o re dining facilities. The Tropical Inn,

which was the main enlisted dining hall, the

officers’ club, and the non-commissioned officers’ club all sustained significant damage from

wet ash. A new airmen’s club, which was

opened just before the evacuation, was not as

badly damaged, but needed extensive cleaning.

Workers opened a small eating facility, the

Express Diner, near the flightline. TSgt Dorothy

Lewis and six other providers of the Air Force

C o m m i s s a ry Service shuttled

canned goods from the commissary warehouse to SMSgt Donald

Ostrander and his crews at the

Express Diner. The two units,

working together, took pride in

the fact that they could go from

“cans opened to [hot] meals

served in an hour and a half.”29

Vehicles crowded into the

parking lot, and a long line waited outside the Express Diner for

b reakfast, lunch, and dinner.

The parking lot was piled high

with ash along its sides where earthmovers had

piled it like dirty, gray snow that would not

melt. Troops waiting for a hot meal shuffled

along the line. When they came inside, they

stomped the ash from their feet and went

through the cafeteria line as food servers piled

paper plates with main courses, hot vegetables,

and mashed potatoes – a much welcome respite

from MREs.

A bright spot in the gray ash was MSgt

Judy Sanders, who was ordered back from Subic

Bay along with others who had special skills.

Sanders was a specialist at operating club facilities such as officers’ clubs and enlisted clubs.

The club facility least damaged was the new airmen’s club, and Sanders immediately went to

work hiring Filipino laborers to clean out the

place. It was no easy task. Muddy ash soaked

the carpeting, and the walls started to mildew in

the humid atmosphere .

Nonetheless, Sanders and her

worker bees opened the airmen’s

club in three days.

Ash Warriors stomped ash

off their feet, brushed it as best

they could from filthy uniforms

and walked into a clean, dry

place. There they could enjoy a

cold San Miguel, have snacks

and listen to Jimmy Buffett sing

on the juke box, “Where ya

gonna go when the volcano

blows.” Electricity came from

an emergency generator behind the building.

Three days later Sanders opened the kitchen at

the airmen’s club, and the mission essential

force had, within the club, a touch of the way

things used to be at Clark.30

Getting Clean

The civil engineering squadron continued

to struggle with electrical power and water. For

two steps forward there seemed to be one step

backward. Eagle was deeply concerned about

getting the water on line for two reasons. First,

none of the toilets could be flushed, so troops

were using the few portable toilets that could be

found as well as slit trenches for latrines.

Second, everyone was filthy, which was not only

bad medically, but the never-ending dirt had a

deleterious effect on morale.

Grime said, “I was trying to get . . . water

up so they could take a shower, you can imagine

ash, how it cakes on you after a time, and being

able to use a toilet. It’s something . . . people

don’t think about, but concerns with sanitation

could shut down that whole operation faster

than anything else. We had the darndest time, of

all things . . . keeping people out of latrines.

They wanted some privacy. We were quickly as

possible cleaning up port-a-potties, but frequently a lot of people used latrines that weren’t working, and that causes a mess in terms of hygiene.

And, I remember one night sitting in [the

Express Diner]. We were able to get hot food

going, but we couldn’t get enough power using

the emergency generators to get air conditioning,

and I was watching the security police come in.

60

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

“Most people I talked

to don’t ever want to

remember what it

felt like”

Crow Valley, for -

mer site of the

Cope Thunder

exercises (top),

was filled with

pyroclastic flow

(bottom).
61

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

I could look in their eyes and I could see they

almost had it. They had that stare like we ain’t

got many days left and then we’re going to start

giving up . . . and that was [one of] the things

that scared me the most.”31

Another Ash Warrior recalled, “Most people I talked to don’t ever want to remember what

it felt like. You couldn’t get clean. Eating MREs

wasn’t a chore . . . shoveling ash wasn’t a chore.

But, no flush toilets, no running water to take a

shower, no water to brush your teeth with, no

water to rinse your glasses with, for 10 or 11

days, that got to be old after a while.”32

Some troops were innovative. About a

week after returning from the college, Lucky

was doing busy work in the alternate command

post just before dawn when he saw an airman

walk by who had clean hair. The CAT commander jumped up from his desk, caught up

with the clean-hair man in the hall and asked

him if he had taken a shower someplace. The

airman said yes and pointed the colonel in the

right direction. Lucky grabbed a bar of soap,

clean clothes and his only clean towel from his

bugout bag and headed out of the building.

Across an ash-covered rice paddy a quarter of a

mile from the command post, the colonel found

a small farmer’s hut. The hut was abandoned,

but behind it was a pump sticking up out of the

ash, and a bucket half full of water. Written on

the side of the plastic bucket, in grease pencil,

were the words, “Enjoy, but leave water for

priming.” He carefully poured the water in the

top and started pumping the handle up and

down. In a moment clean water started pouring

out of the pump. He stripped naked and poured

the first bucket of water over his head and then

another and another and another. Each one felt

better than the first. He stood there for 10 minutes, naked in the middle of a rice paddy just

pouring clean water over his head. Finally, he

used the soap to scrub thoroughly, dried off,

dressed, and left a bucket of water for the next

person. By mid-day there was a long line at the

rice paddy pump.33

Cold Beer

Prior to the June 10 evacuation, the area of

Angeles City just outside Clark’s base was

bustling with shops, sari-sari stores, restaurants,

and bars that were frequented by the American

service men and women and their families. A

large liberty area was designated in the city, and

the city outside the liberty area was off-limits to

all Americans. It was off-limits because General

Studer did not believe US and Philippine security forces could protect Americans from the terrorist threat unless the area they had to protect

was of a manageable size. The liberty area, when

viewed on a map, was in the shape of a fish. A

few days after the Ash Warriors returned from

the college, General Studer approved liberty in

the fish for everyone.

The word quickly spread outside the gates,

and when the troops went out the gates, a few

enterprising night club and bar owners had

hooked up generators to their lights and beer

coolers to accommodate their patrons. However,

the fish was even more devastated than the base.

Ash clogged the dark streets and many buildings

were damaged badly. The vitality of the city was

gone, and for many, drinking a cold San Miguel

at their favorite watering holes was bittersweet.

Still Struggling for Running Water

Using an improvised electrical system of

emergency generators and fire trucks hooked to

main generators, the engineers were able to start

pumping water from the wells into the storage

tanks. It was a slow process because the pipes in

the water supply system held six times as much

water as the tanks. So, they had to fill the tanks

several times before there was any significant

pressure in the lines. Throughout the process

the volcano refused to cooperate. Every time it

erupted and ash blew across the base, some

emergency generators and main power lines

shorted out as the conductive ash blew into the

systems. Everything had to be cleaned of ash

before the process could start again.34

Ash-covered

Chambers Hall, a

landmark famil -

iar to everyone at

Clark AB.
62

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Grudgingly, the water system yielded to

Goodman’s engineers, who had to dig some

water control valves out of collapsed buildings.

Fortunately, Staff Sergeant Walla, the NCOIC* of

the plumbing shop, and others had maintained

accurate maps of valve locations.35 Finally,

water pressure sprouted showers in selected

buildings.

The largest building was Chambers Hall.

Chambers was a six-story, 300-plus room dormitory in the center of the base.

New officer arrivals stayed at

Chambers until housing was

available. Officers on temporary duty at Clark stayed there.

Countless thousands of off icers, who lived at or traveled

through Clark, remember it as

a home-away-fro m - h o m e .

Services people hired Filipino

workers to shovel the flat roof

of the hotel clear of ash, and by

the time they were finished,

electricity and water were

available, so the building was

opened to occupancy. Officers

who had been sleeping in their

cars at the Dau command post,

gathered their few belongings

and checked into Chambers for clean sheets and

a real shower.

G o o d m a n ’s engineers had checked the

building thoroughly for damage, and there was

none. The building was constructed to withstand strong earthquakes, and its expansion

joints had merely flexed as the temblors rattled

Clark. The motion of the building, especially on

the sixth floor, sometimes threw occupants from

their beds, so the top floors were abandoned.

Less than 10 days earlier, people who slept in

their cars rather than in the two-story buildings

at the college, blithely slept well under several

floors of intermittently swaying concrete.

Ash, Ash, Everywhere

During the few times that airborne ash

cleared out with prevailing winds, helicopter

operations resumed carrying the volcanologists

and General Studer to view the crater and what

was happening inside it. The flights were sometimes tricky. Using the call sign “Cactus,” the

flights were conducted almost exclusively during daylight hours when ash clouds could be

seen and avoided. The base’s three UH-1 helicopters were hangared in the

f o rmer alert facility at the

south end of the flight line to

protect them from unexpected

ash fall. Large pads were

cleared to provide as clean an

area as possible for the aircraft

to takeoff, hover, and land. In

addition to a pad directly adjacent to the hangars, another

large pad near base operations

was also cleared to allow helicopters from off-station to

operate into and out of the base

without interfering with

Clark’s birds. The aircraft were

rinsed daily by maintenance

personnel to help prevent corrosion.

Even though the large pads were cleared of

ash, they still had to be wetted down with fire

hoses to prevent ash from blowing during takeoffs and landings. The pilots used maximum

performance takeoff procedures whereby they

made a vertical takeoff to 50 to 75 feet before

they transitioned to forward flight. Landings

were made from a steep descent to reduce the

time the aircraft might encounter blowing ash

from the rotor down-wash. Wind indicating

devices were placed near each pad to insure

wind direction was discernible to aircrews. The

pad that was cleared on the parking ramp near

base operations presented more blowing ash

problems because of vehicular traffic around the

pad. As the ash dried out, vehicles operating

near the pad created a great deal of dust which

blew toward the pad. The pad located near the

hangar had no such problems because it was far

from vehicular operations.36

The volcano continued to erupt throughout June, sending huge columns of ash into the

air. The Ash Warriors, callused from the experience of “historic” eruptions, barely took time to

watch. However, the CAT continued to watch

the scientists watch the mountain and made

plans to bug out again, if necessary. All cars

were to be parked facing out to avoid snarls in

parking lots clogged with ash and abandoned

The eruption of Mount

Pinatubo was the world’s

largest in more than half

a century and probably

the second largest

of the century

Aerial view of

Base Supply show -

ing the incredible

damage sustained

by the combined

efforts of both vol -

cano and typhoon.

* Non-commissioned officer in charge.
vehicles. No one was to sleep in an area unless

one person was awake with an operable radio.

Guards were posted in dormitory sleeping areas

to alert occupants. If the siren blew everyone

was to proceed by vehicle to the main gate and

await further instructions.37

The volcanologists worked to define the

scale of the eruptions, an effort that continued

for several years and culminated in the publication of F i re and Mud, edited by USGSPHIVOLCS volcanologists Christopher G.

Newhall and Raymundo S. Punongbayan.

The eruption of Mount Pinatubo was the

world’s largest in more than half a century and

probably the second largest of the century. It

ejected more than five cubic kilometers of

magma, an order of magnitude larger than the

Mount Saint Helens eruption in 1980. Only the

1912 eruption of Novarupta in Alaska was bigger

than Pinatubo within the twentieth century38.

The ash, combined with rainfall from Yunya,

blanketed 7,500 square kilometers of Luzon at

least a centimeter thick. Almost the entire

island received some amount of ash fall.39

Over 100 buildings collapsed at Clark, and

another 500 were damaged, most of them extensively. Within the Filipino communities that

surrounded the American bases, between 200

and 300 died, most of them from collapsing

roofs. Without Tropical Storm Yunya, the death

toll would no doubt have been less.40

Voluminous pyroclastic flows extended as

far as 7 to 10 miles from the summit down all

watersheds and impacted an area of 240 square

miles, “dramatically modifying the pre-existing

topography.” Some filled existing valleys to a

depth of over 600 feet.41

The small lahars that swept across Clark

the afternoon of Black Saturday caused little

damage relative to what happened in the river

beds north and south of the base. The most significant damage happened in the Abacan River

south of Clark. Dwellings upstream from Sapang

Bato* were inundated. Many buildings and all

bridges in Angeles City were destroyed that day,

or fell to lahars over the next few months. The

Northern Expressway bridge, on the main road

to Manila, also fell as lahars thundered down the

river like shiploads of wet cement spiced with

boulders.42

Nonetheless the moment was not without

its bright spots. Personnel Bobbitt, who always

seemed to be talking on the radio as he

scrounged supplies, was pleasantly surprised on

June 23. At 10:15 a.m., General Studer and

Colonel Grime STEP† promoted him on the spot

to staff sergeant. He was promoted for “his sustained exemplary performance in the service of

the Clark family.” The commanders specifically

noted Sergeant Bobbitt’s efforts during the previous two weeks.

Bobbitt, uncharacteristically speechless,

said afterwards, “I’m in a position to help, and

I’ll continue to do that until we run out of supplies.”43

What About the Families?

One of the main concerns of every Ash

Warrior was the welfare of his or her family.

Specialists who returned to Clark from Subic

Bay told grim stories about the conditions at the

Navy bases. The ash fall at Subic Bay was at

least as bad as at Clark, and many buildings on

the Navy bases collapsed as well. There were

critical shortages of food and water. Clark’s

newspaper, the Philippine Flyer, assured the

mission essential team that the families would

be cared for and evacuated to the United States,

but the Ash Warriors could not know how bad it

really was for their families until they were

reunited and heard their incredible stories firsthand.

63

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

* A village just outside a gate on the southwest side of Clark.

* Stripes to Exceptional Performers program. An AF program that gives local com -

manders the authority to promote a few airmen each year outside the normal

board selection process.
NOTES TO CHAPTER 6

1 Interview, William Dassler, Col (Ret), former commander of 3d Secu -

rity Police Group, December 7, 1998 [hereafter cited as Dassler inter -

view].

2 Ibid.

3 JTF-FIERY VIGIL SITREP, 161915Z JUN 91.

4 Grime interview 1992.

5 JTF-FIERY VIGIL SITREP, 161915Z JUN 91.

6 JTF-FIERY VIGIL SITREP, 161015Z JUN 91.

7 Fire and Mud, p 76.

8 JTF-FIERY VIGIL SITREP, 161915Z JUN 91.

9 Ibid.

10 JTF-FIERY VIGIL SITREP, 171451Z JUN 91.

11 Ibid.

12 JULLS Long Report, JULLS No. 73157-04215.

13 JULLS Long Report, JULLS No. 73159-39818.

14 JULLS Long Report, JULLS No. 73150-84568.

15 Philippine Flyer, Special Fiery Vigil Bulletin No. 8, June 24, 1991, p 1.

16 JULLS Long Report, JULLS No: 73150-18877, August 15, 1991.

17 JTF-FIERY VIGIL SITREP, 171451Z JUN 91.

18 JULLS Long Report, JULLS No: 73057-72998, August 15, 1991.

19 JULLS Long Report, JULLS No: 72954-5986, August 15, 1991.

20 Dassler interview.

21 Philippine Flyer, Special Fiery Vigil Bulletin No. 4, June 20, 1991, p 1.

22 Rand interview.

23 Mikkelson interview.

24 Ibid.

25 JULLS Long Report, JULLS No. 73134-55165.

26 JULLS Long Report, JULLS No. 73133-94911, August 15, 1991.

27 Dassler interview.

28 Philippine Flyer, Special Fiery Vigil Bulletin No. 9, June 25 1991, p 1.

29 Philippine Flyer, Special Fiery Vigil Bulletin No. 11, June 27, 1991, p 1.

30 Philippine Flyer, Special Fiery Vigil Bulletin No. 6, June 22, 1991.

31 Grime interview 1992.

32 Rand interview.

33 Author's journal.

34 JULLS Long Report, JULLS No: 73150-18877.

35 JULLS Long Report, JULLS No: 73161-14294, August 15, 1991.

36 JULLS Long Report, JULLS No: 80545-04093.

37 Philippine Flyer, Special Fiery Vigil Bulletin No. 7, June 23, 1991, p 1.

38 Fire and Mud, p 18.

39 Ibid., p 14.

40 Ibid., p 15.

41 Ibid., p 15.

42 Ibid. ,p 16.

43 Philippine Flyer, Special Fiery Vigil Bulletin No. 7, June 23, 1991, p 2.

64

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
Chapter 7 THE EVACUEES

Goodbye Dad – Dustin Van Orme

waves goodbye to his father after

boarding a bus to join other evacuees

who are boarding ships to leave

Subic Bay.

65

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

During Black Saturday, June 15, 1991, American service men and women and their families huddled in shaking, creaking buildings at Subic Bay, Cubi Point, and San Miguel. For

some, their worst nightmares had come true. First, the evacuation order from Clark ripped

them from their homes when many were unprepared. Then they were subjected to long lines

in the hot sun at Clark and Subic Bay, not to mention hours of bumper-to-bumper, stop-andgo traffic on the highway to Subic Bay. Conditions at the mobbed Navy bases were nothing

short of chaotic. Vehicles were stuffed by the hundreds into huge fields. Lines for housing

snaked out of buildings into the scorching tropical sun.

However, in the spirit of what many describe as “the military family taking care of each

other,” the evacuees and their reluctant hosts attempted to achieve a measure of normalcy on

the overstuffed Navy bases. The Clark Air Base Wagner High School Class of ’91 graduated on

June 13 in a makeshift ceremony in the Subic Bay auditorium, while an announcement told

other classes of the cancellation of final examinations. Although the circumstances of the

graduation were not what the graduates may have imagined, the ceremony is fondly remembered by those evacuees who attended as a touch of home that cheered many.

1

The forces of nature overcame the best human intentions, though, and the huddled masses cowered as tons of wet ash fell, earthquakes smashed through the bases and buildings collapsed. No matter how happy a face they tried to paint on the situation, everyone knew they

were at the mercy of the elements with absolutely no control of the outcome. Many took to

their beds to seek respite in sleep. One teenager recalled, “If it was going to kill me, it was

going to kill me. At least I would die in my sleep under my own covers.”2

Joint Task Force-Fiery Vigil

Although it seemed as if they had been abandoned to nature’s brutal realities, the military machine was already working to relieve the suffering. On June 10, the day Clark evacuated and five days before the cataclysmic eruptions, the United States Commander in Chief,

Pacific (USCINCPAC), a Navy four-star admiral in Hawaii, activated a joint task force to protect American lives and property in response to the volcano.3 The task force was nicknamed

Fiery Vigil. If the title was intended to be humorous, there is no record of anyone at Clark or

Subic Bay finding amusement in the appellation.

Formations of such task forces, called “joint” because they involve all military services,

is standard procedure during a crisis. It allows the senior commander, in this case USCINCPAC, to establish a chain of command with which to attack the problem directly. It also brings

to bear the resources of all the military services in a coordinated effort. As luck would have it,

the Joint Chiefs of Staff had executed a no-notice interoperability exercise with General Studer

as the commander of the Joint Task Force-Philippines on April 30, 1990. General Studer’s task

was to execute command, control, and communications (C3) responsibilities over a joint air,

ground, and naval force. The exercise identified shortfalls in C3 and the lack of a consolidated non-combatant evacuation operation (NEO) plan that could support all on-island evacuation efforts. As a result, the state-of-the-art brick system was installed at Clark, and, fortu-
Weary travelers

evacuating

through Agana.

itously, a comprehensive NEO plan was developed.4 When it came time to pick a commander

for Joint Task Force Fiery Vigil (JTF-FV),

USCINCPAC passed over the Navy admiral in

the Philippines and heeded the suggestion of US

Ambassador to the Philippines, Nicholas Platt,

to appoint Studer as commander. Apparently

Platt thought Studer had done well during the

recent exercise. USCINCPAC also dispatched a

staff of officers from Hawaii to assist Studer.

Many were the same officers who had served

during the exercise. As commander, all military

in the Philippines were subordinate to Studer

including all Navy personnel and families at

Subic Bay.

5

General Studer and the senior Navy officer

at Subic Bay were in agreement by June 12* that

Subic Bay was so overloaded that an evacuation

back to the United States was the only possible

course of action unless the volcano rapidly

reversed its course. Since Pinatubo was in a

constant state of eruption, there was no possibility of re t u rning the evacuees to Clark, and

Subic’s facilities, especially the water supply,

were stressed to breaking.6 General Studer determined that he would keep 1,500 people at Clark

(1,000 security police plus 500 support and

maintenance) and leave a large manpower pool

of 5,000 at Subic Bay. Therefore, as the danger

from the volcano subsided, selected groups of

workers who had critical skills could return to

Clark as needed. However, Studer was laying

the groundwork for a decision he thought

inevitable. It was clear to him that not only

would the dependents need to be evacuated, but

all of the Clark military huddled at Subic Bay

would have to go as well.7 In a situation report

to USCINCPAC on June 12, General Studer said,

“I do not believe we can return to any semblance

of normalcy in the near future and leaving

11,500 Clark people at Subic for more than a few

days, certainly not weeks, is out of the question.”8

After the above message was sent, the volcano erupted twice in 24 hours, and General

Studer sent the following words in a message the

next day to USCINCPAC and officials in

Washington, DC, “The large number of evacuees

has stressed the resources of the Subic Bay complex to near maximum. The capability to provide a minimal living standard for the evacuees

for a sustained period is not considered feasible.

The further eruptions of Mount Pinatubo [exacerbate] the situation by denying the possibility

of returning to normal operations at Clark Air

Base for up to six months. As a consequence, my

first priority is to get all Air Force dependents

out of the Philippines. All planned near-term

actions are directed toward that goal.”9

The JTF-FV staff, lead by Studer’s deputy,

Col Bruce Freeman, devised an orderly flow of

non-essential military service members and all

families out of the Philippines. They established three categories.

Category 1: Anyone with a June port call†

whose household goods were already packed

and shipped. This category was to leave as soon

as possible. The staff was coordinating for commercial wide-body aircraft to airlift these people

from either Manila or Cubi Point.

Category 2: Those with port calls after 1

July would have their tours shortened.

C a t e g o ry 3: All dependents. Studer

requested permission to initiate the early return

of dependents. He said, “Because of heavy support infrastructure this group requires, request

authority to commence within 10 days.”10

The USCINCPAC crisis action team transmitted a message to the Secretary of Defense

requesting permission to declare an emergency

evacuation of the Philippines. General Studer

agreed and asked that the evacuation of dependents and non-mission essential personnel start

prior to June 17. Two planeloads of people in

Category 1 flew from Cubi Point to Andersen Air

Force Base, Guam, under this scheme and before

Black Saturday. A regular schedule of flights

from Manila and Cubi Point was approved.

66

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

* Three days before Black Saturday.

† A port call is a scheduled departure.
F u rt h e r, US Tr a n s p o rtation Command

approved one commercial aircraft per day to

transport 200 to 250 passengers from Cubi Point

to Travis Air Force Base beginning June 14. Each

passenger was authorized three to four pieces of

baggage. Ten to seventeen pets were also authorized on commercial flights depending on size of

containers. Five missions were requested over

and above the normally scheduled twice-a-week

chartered missions.12 However, the volcanic

eruptions of June 13 and 14 overcame JTF-Fiery

Vigil’s best intentions. Cubi Point airfield was

closed most of the time because aircraft could

not fly through, or even around, the large clouds

of ash in the air.

On June 15, as Pinatubo

convulsed in the paro x y s m s

that would turn day into night,

a regularly scheduled Boeing

747, loaded with evacuees,

departed Cubi Point for Kadena

Air Base, Japan. During its

climb out, ash from Pinatubo

snuffed out one of the jumbojet’s engines. The skillful crew

regained use of the engine and

landed uneventfully at Kadena,

but that was the last airlift of

evacuees from Subic Bay.

13

When it became obvious

the Cubi Point runway was no

longer a viable option for use

during the evacuation, other options were considered. One option was to move them to

Manila by ship then out of Manila via aircraft.

However, Manila was so close to Pinatubo that

ash would likely affect Manila flights as well.

Planners looked around for another airfield to

which ships could take the evacuees to meet up

with air transportation. Maj Jim Simpson, the

834th Pacific Airlift Control Element* C h i e f

recalled a former USAF base, used during the

Vietnam war, at Mactan on the island of Cebu,

which was about 300 miles south of Subic Bay

and Luzon. A quick check of air navigation

charts in the area showed an operational airstrip

there. The 834th CAT made this information

available to the PACAF and PACOM CATs .

USCINCPAC chose the old airstrip at Mactan

since Aquino Airport at Manila would probably

be closed due to ash fall for several days. The

PACOM CAT estimated the evacuation would

total 20,000 with the first ship departing Subic

Bay on 16 June.

Evacuation Armada

The aircraft carrier USS Abraham Lincoln,

on her maiden voyage, and her battle group,

along with ships from two amphibious ready

groups, diverted from their course to the Indian

Ocean to Subic Bay. The carrier Midway and

guided missile cruiser Mobile Bay were ordered

from Yokosuka, Japan.15 Nearly 48 hours before

Black Saturday happened, Navy ships were on

the way to Subic Bay. The Navy was ahead of

the game, and its quick reaction saved many

lives.

The final evacuation plan, approved by

USCINCPAC, was for Navy ships to enter Subic

Bay and load with as many evacuees as they

could safely carry. The ships would then sail to

Cebu (a trip of 24 to 36 hours) where they would

leave the evacuees and return to Subic for more

evacuees. The evacuees

would be put on aircraft at

Mactan, the old Vietnam-era

a i rfield, and then flown to

Andersen Air Force Base,

Guam. At Guam the evacuees

would be processed for return

to the US mainland while they

were given some time to rest

and clean up. Then the evacuees would be flown to Travis

Air Force Base, Californ i a ,

N o rton Air Force Base,

C a l i f o rnia, or McChord Air

F o rce Base, Wa s h i n g t o n ,

where they would be given

commercial airline transportation to a “safe haven”† location

of their choice within the contiguous 48 states.

It seemed a solid plan, but as in any effort,

the devil is in the details. As far as the Clark

evacuees were concerned, the ships could not

get there fast enough. Their ranks were about to

swell with several thousand Navy service members, spouses, children and pets. The support

infrastructure of Subic Bay was as badly damaged as Clark’s, since there was no electricity

and, therefore, limited fresh water and food.

The first people to be evacuated were the

ones who had port calls in the month of June;

these evacuees had already been processed and

were ready to leave on short notice. The USS

Arkansas, and frigates Rodney M. Davis and

Kurtz left Subic on June 16 with 860 such evacuees. 

On the same day, June 16, the Secretary of

Defense formally approved General Studer’s

request to remove all non-essential military personnel and dependents from the Philippines

under emergency evacuation orders.

It was clear that not only

would the dependents

need to be evacuated, but

all of the Clark military at

Subic Bay would have to

go as well

* At Hickam Air Force Base, Hawaii.

† An official designation under emergency evacuation orders, i.e. a place to live

temporarily until a permanent assignment is tendered. 

67

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
The Interminable Lines

Evacuees lined up in front of the

Sampaguita Club to get a berth on the ships. At

first the biggest problem was getting the word

out that an all-out evacuation of the naval facilities was underway. However, the network the

first sergeants had established carried the day

and a slow trickle of evacuees looking for a way

out of Subic Bay became a stream and then a

flood as the word spread. Eventually, the Subic

Bay FEN radio station resumed broadcasting the

departure schedules.

Conditions at Subic were desperate and

becoming worse by the hour. Food was difficult

to find. Drinking water was impossible. Some

Navy services people made well-intentioned

efforts to distribute MREs, but their efforts were

ineffective with thousands of people looking for

food and water.

A US Navy dependent wife, who had

opened her home to 30 Clark evacuees, recalled

the conditions, “It looked like a gray snowstorm

had hit. Power lines were down everywhere.

On Monday [June 17] there was so much traffic,

and no electricity. On Tuesday, there was no

food, gas, nothing. I was drinking water out of

the waterbed. Outside people were fighting for

food, and siphoning gas.”16

Col Jim Goodman, Clark’s Base Civil

Engineer, was acting as Combat Support Group

Commander at Subic. He spent most waking

hours walking the lines along the docks. His

biggest concern was controlling the panic that

was slowly working its way to the surface as the

lines got longer and the food and water more

scarce.17

The Lincoln left Subic on June 17 with

more than 2,000 evacuees. It was the last of the

battle group to sail that day and was preceded by

the Lake Champlain (300 evacuees), Long Beach

(572), Merrill (298), Gary (309), Inghram (282),

Roanoke (500) and Passumpsic (192). All told,

4,300 persons sailed for Cebu.18

Goodman and others were frustrated by a

huge bottleneck in the processing caused by US

immigration and customs officials. These officials were required by their regulations, as they

interpreted them, to document thoroughly the

citizenship of each person boarding a US ship.

Of course, many evacuees had not taken the

proper identification as outlined in the evacuation pamphlet. So, the back-up in front of the

immigration stations seemed interminable to

Goodman. It seemed to him that his pleas to

speed the process fell on deaf ears, and the lines

in the hot sun never got smaller.

Goodman remembered an incident that

clearly describes the situation. “After a week of

loading folks on ships, long processing lines,

longer days and few of the comforts, we were

about to send the final 2,000 evacuees to the USS

Midway for their trip to Cebu, the first leg of a

long journey home. The processing was to begin

early at 0600 so we could avoid the heat of the

day. Additionally, our one water buffalo was

nearly dry, and despite my pleas to the Navy

command post and Admiral Mercer’s staff, no

water was forthcoming. The entire base

appeared to be dry. To my extreme frustration,

the processing line moved very slowly. The

immigration people were being a real pain in the

ass since some questionable folks had slipped

through their grasp in the previous days and

they were determined to right the wrongs, exactly when we needed a break the most.

“Nine a.m. arrived and we had made little

progress. The sun was bearing down, and the

water was gone. Then, a minor crisis occurred

that had all the earmarks of a major event.

Eleven buses arrived from [San Miguel housing]

area. The officer in charge of that location had

apparently told the pregnant women and those

with children that when they got to Subic Bay,

they should immediately proceed to the front of

the processing line. Incredibly, as the buses

emptied, it looked like the Oklahoma land rush.

Every mother with a child under 20 was headed

for the front of the half-mile long line. A captain

in a flight suit met me where the lemming trails

came together and between the two of us, we

Exhausted, a

young mother and

her son try to rest

in a hangar at

Andersen AFB,

Guam, during the

evacuation.

68

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
The stunned and

exhausted look on

this young evac -

uee’s face tells the

story of her ordeal

before she arrived

at Andersen AFB,

Guam.

tried to keep a full-fledged riot from developing.

After a few very long minutes, a number of officers and senior NCOs joined us and calm prevailed.

“All of this frustration simply set the stage

for what was about to develop. As several other

officers, mostly flight surgeons and chaplains,

and I walked the line repeatedly, trying to prevent panic from developing, I was getting serious pleas from the docs that dehydration would

soon claim some of the young children if we didn’t find some water. Several more calls to the

Subic engineers revealed that there was no supply of water. Despite the apparent crisis, folks in

the line were unbelievably calm, trusting, I’m

sure, that we would find a way. I was absolutely out of ideas when I felt a tug at my sleeve. It

was one of my sergeants, Jim Stogner. He said,

‘Colonel, what can I do?’ All I said was, ‘Find

water, Jim.’ I didn’t really believe it was in the

cards.”

“After about a half hour of trying to get the

children out of the sun, trying to get the immigration people to loosen up, and trying to offer

encouragement to a lot of concerned folks, I once

again felt the tug at my sleeve. Jim was there

again – I swear he had wings. He said, ‘I’ve got

water, it’s tested, and we’re ready to go.’ Seems

he had discovered several Filipinos washing

down electrical connectors with a 2,500-gallon

tank truck. He simply jumped in and drove the

truck away. After arriving at our location, he ran

a quick chemical test on the water to insure that

it was safe and ready for consumption.

“It was easy for me to get about 50 volunteers to distribute the water. Within 10 minutes,

everyone in the line was watered down and a

real crisis was averted. Shortly thereafter, the

processing line started to move more quickly,

and by late afternoon, I got to shake a lot of tired

hands and see some amazing smiles as those

tired folks scrambled up the Midway’s gangplank. I often wonder how many lives Jim

Stogner saved that day.”19

Another lifesaver was Air Force Nurse

Debbie Head who organized a relief station for

infants in a nearby bowling alley. Mothers of

infants could leave the line and bring their

infants to Head's makeshift clinic. There, the

children could get out of the sun and be checked

for dehydration.20

One teenaged, dependent daughter

recalled going to line up to get on the Lincoln.

“We threw all of our things into our bags, threw

the cat into her carrier, and hauled ass for the

bus. I didn't think we were going to make it and

I almost started to cry. I was pretty sure that we

were going to die in that horrible place. We

made it to the bus. It was quite an experience . .

running through what seemed like a million feet

of ash and mud, dragging our bags and the poor

traumatized cat. If you’ve ever run for your life

before, then you understand. It was do or die.

We loaded onto the bus and it drove away about

two minutes later. It was such a relief just to

look out the back window and just leave all of

the devastation behind. I felt like I could breathe

again.”21

Subic Bay’s living areas, streets, and passenger processing areas were littered with personal items the evacuees could not carry. A typical evacuee family consisted of a young mother,

often Filipina, with one or two toddlers and a

family pet. Few men traveled in the first waves

of evacuees because 1,500 Ash Warriors were at

Clark, and another 5,000 were identified to

remain at Subic. This decision was quickly

reversed when it became apparent that Clark

could not support such a large number.

However, the result was that many hundreds of

families left on ships from Subic Bay while their

spouses were in the same evacuation stream two

or three days behind them.

Even though some families were separating, others were starting their first days together.

On June 16, 313 airmen made application to the

American Embassy for marriage licenses. Most

of these were approved quickly, and on June 18

the number of marriage applications rocketed to

approximately 850. Once married, the brides

69

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
A dependent child

is fascinated by an

Air Force Security

Police working

dog during the

evacuation of

dependents from

the Philippines.

were allowed on the ships to evacuate to the

United States where they would have 60 days to

complete the paperwork that would make them

citizens. Of course, a few of these marriages

were between US citizens, but the vast majority

of them were weddings of US servicemen to

Filipinas. Some were probably not eligible for

immigration, but US officials agreed to approve

all the weddings as an acceptable price for order,

safety, protection of US dependents, and the rapidly deteriorating conditions.22

Evacuees were allowed to take whatever

they could carry onto the ships. Families left

cars packed with personal items. They were

instructed to leave their car

keys with their first sergeant or

at the Air Force pro c e s s i n g

center. Many did not get the

word or elected to not do so.

Every trash container between

living areas and the processing

station was piled to overflowing with more personal items

the young wives could not carry. The wife of

one senior officer, who walked the lines giving

encouragement, was dismayed to see a wedding

photo album thrown in a trash can.23 A young

wife, in helpless tears, tried to manage three

small boys, their baggage, and a large dog. She

sobbed her frustration to General Studer’s wife,

whom she neither knew nor recognized, about

the uselessness of trying to take the dog. The

young woman’s husband, who was still at Clark,

had only recently acquired the rambunctious

animal as a guard dog for their house. Finally, a

colonel’s wife, who was patrolling the lines and

helping evacuees, took the dog from its distraught and reluctant owner and delivered it to

the veterinarians’ tent, where she was surprised

to find that the veterinarians had no apparent

plan to deal with animals that were left behind.

The dog was last seen tied to a tent post, barking

as the mother struggled down the line with her

sons.24

Donna Studer, wife of the Thirteenth Air

Force commander, remembered the conditions

in the lines. “People were leaving all sorts of

things along the line. Suitcases. Everything. It

was so hot! The ash was everywhere, and it was

like you had been out in the water and then

rolled on the beach. It was just everywhere. The

lines were just horrible . . . and people were

fainting. They set up the gym as an emergency

area. People would just leave their suitcases. I

was talking to one guy – who was pretty far up

the line, and someone came up to him and told

him his wife was in the gym

and she wants you. He said he

couldn’t get out of the line or

they would lose their place. So

I told him I would keep his

place in the line. People were

desperate to get out of there.

They were leaving suitcases

full of pictures. There were

people sending their Filipina wives back to the

states to families they didn’t even know. It was

really sad to see all of that, and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.”25

The teenaged daughter of another officer

continued her story, “We got to the docks and it

was a madhouse. There were people everywhere, pets everywhere, and stuff everywhere.

All of us were trying to get on a boat and it didn’t seem like any of us were going to make it. I’m

not sure how it happened, but Mom and I were

told to board the USS Abe Lincoln. It was a

monster of a ship, but the number of people trying to get on was staggering. Even with the

ship’s size, I didn’t think that there was any way

that there was going to be enough room for us

and the crew on the same ship. Mom and I

walked the gangway to get on to the monster and

stepped inside . . . the Navy boys were pretty

cute and they were so helpful. We got to the

entrance to the ship and they immediately took

everything from us. They wouldn’t even let

Mom or me carry our purses. They took it all.

They shipped our laundry off and took our stuff

to our bunks. They were amazing. There were

people everywhere and they all kept their cool.

We were sad sights. All of us, not just Mom and

me. Nobody had showered or changed their

clothes for days. We hadn’t had a decent meal in

a week and were exhausted. Those guys didn’t

bat an eye when we asked them where the showers were and didn’t laugh when we thanked

them profusely for the Kool-Aid. The Navy guys

call it bug juice and it was the best thing I had

ever had. Every time I drink red Kool-Aid that is

over-sugared, I think about those Navy boys.

They were so sweet.”26

70

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

We got to the docks and

it was a madhouse
People and their

pets were accom -

modated in the

cavernous lower

decks of the ship.

Sailing to Cebu

A seaman on the USS Champlain remembered, “The most challenging [thing] was having

to deal with all the stories about the complete

devastation and hardship that the people themselves dealt with. It made all my problems seem

very minor. The most rewarding was to see their

faces when they reached the ship and [realized

they] had survived the evacuation. There was

this little girl who slept in my rack* and she said,

‘You’re Robinson, this is your rack?’ And I said,

‘No, sweetie, it’s yours.’ She also made me a picture of the ship that I will always keep. It was

one of the best feelings I ever had.”27 The seamen slept wherever they could find excess space

in their work areas, passageways and nooks and

crannies throughout the ships. The evacuees

slept in Navy racks.

The teenaged evacuee continued, “In the

center of the ship was an area that they had

blocked off for pets. There were a bazillion animals. The dogs that didn’t have any kennels

were tied to the tiedowns for the airplanes. The

navy guys gave them all just enough slack that

they could walk a complete circle and get some

exercise, but none of them had a long enough

chain to reach any of the other dogs. They just

kept running in circles barking and snarling as

they passed each other. It was pretty funny.

They all had pans of water and pans of food.

The cats pretty much all had kennels, so they

were stacked against the wall of the ship. They

were relatively quiet . . . at least ours was! I’m

pretty sure that the Navy had kitty litter so that

the cats could come out of their cages and go to

the bathroom. The cats were all . . . afraid of the

dogs, though, and it was quite hard to drag the

cats out of their cages and then to get them to pee

in front of these snarling dogs who were raring to

eat some kitty meat.

“Getting used to the vertical stairways on a

Navy aircraft carrier was quite an experience. I

tried to slide down them like they do in the

movies, but it doesn’t really work that way. It’s

definitely something you want to do right the

first time. We found our quarters and they were

pretty cool. They were small but cool. We had

bunks stacked three high. They were pretty

comfortable if you were on the top or middle

one, but if you were on the bottom it was pretty

rough. You had to lie down on the floor and sort

of shimmy in. It looked pretty frustrating. Mom

and I were on top and middle bunks and so we

made the best of it being so small by telling ourselves we were at camp.”28

One Navy lieutenant, a 1985 graduate of

the Citadel, said, “what better use for the . . .

hangar than to be transformed into a barn. Many

people have pets that are like members of their

family, if our taking care of their animals enable

them to relax after their ordeal, then maybe we

help them begin the transition back to normal

life.”29

T h e re was a significant problem with

motion sickness on the ships that kept the

sailors busy insuring the berthing compartments

were clean. Many evacuees arrived without

shoes and only one set of clothing. Personal

hygiene items were unboxed from ships’ stores

and distributed to the evacuees. Many sailors

volunteered to care for children while exhausted

p a rents slept. Curious children wanted to

explore the fascinating ships, so sailors escorted

them and kept them safe from a myriad of unfamiliar dangers.30

During the May planning meeting at Clark,

the hospital commander, Col Brian Duffy had

expressed concern for the number of pregnant

women who might be evacuated. His concerns

were well-founded. Six children were born on

ships during the trips between Subic Bay and

Cebu. On the Peleliu, Lt Cmdr Jeff Jensen, MD,

delivered the fourth baby to be born on the

amphibious assault and landing ship. The baby

boy was named John David Decampo. Another

baby boy, Abraham Valencia Pineda, would have

a lifelong story of how he was the first child to

be born aboard the mighty aircraft carrier that

gave him his name, the USS Abraham Lincoln.

31

As the newborns arrived at Cebu they were

given first priority for airlift to the hospital at

Kadena Air Base, Japan, along with other women

approaching the end of their pregnancies and a

few others who were having medical difficulties.

In all, 86 patients, accompanied by 59 family

members, were airlifted to Kadena’s hospital.32

The armada that shuttled evacuees to Cebu

from Subic Bay grew to 21 US Navy vessels by

71

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

* Bunk.
19 June. Added were the Combat Stores Ship

Spica, Amphibious Cargo Ship St Louis, Frigate

M c C l u s k y, Dock Landing Ship C o m s t o c k,

Amphibious Assault Ship P e l e l i u, the Ta n k

Landing Ships Bristol County and S a n

B e rn a rd i n o, Oilers H a s s a y a m p a a n d

Ponchatoula, and Repair Ship Cape Cod.

33

The Midway and Mobile Bay arrived in

Subic June 20. The Midway carried helicopters

to provide logistical airlift at Subic Bay. She also

brought 2,000 cots and enough food for 3,000, as

well as diapers and dog food. A team from the

Navy hospital at Yokosuka, Japan, augmented

Midway’s medical department. By June 22, the

ships had delivered all military dependents to

the Mactan Airfield – a total of more than

17,300. At Clark, General Studer and his unit

commanders, realizing the devastated bases

could not support the 5,000 troops they had

intended to shuttle between Clark and Subic

Bay, decided to send 4,500 of them out in the

evacuation.34 The Midway made the last run to

Mactan with 1,800 evacuees.35

Cebu

The Arkansas arrived at Cebu first, at 8:30

a.m. on June 17, and deposited its passengers.

As soon as the 860 people arrived, problems

developed. Rather than keeping the people onboard the ships and processing one aircraft load

at a time, all were placed on shore. Processing

that many passengers, building baggage pallets,

manifesting each aircraft, and keeping the people and pets already manifested segregated from

the others proved nearly impossible. There were

no waiting facilities on the military side of the

field. There was neither cover nor shade.

People stood in long lines in temperatures that

reached 100-plus degrees. These circumstances

predicated a request for housekeeping kits and

portable latrines. Local city officials made a few

school buses available for transport from the

ships to the airfield.36

As the ships arrived in Cebu, they

unloaded their passengers using any means

available. Helicopters delivered some to the

Mactan Airfield. Others traveled via a variety of

small and large boats. During the first couple of

days of operations at the old Mactan airfield,

conditions were difficult. Many people were

overcome by the 95-plus-degree heat and the

stress of the situation. The ALCE* at Mactan, in

response to a request from the 313th Medical

Group, asked for air conditioners for the medical

tents that were even hotter as they baked in the

sun. None could be found, so the 834th CAT at

Hickam Air Force Base, Hawaii, shipped a

portable aircraft air conditioner. The ALCE also

requested port-a-potties to support the operation.37

Thirteen C-141 missions flew to Mactan on

June 18 and ten more on June 19. Each of these

missions carried 143 passengers out of the

Philippines. Also, three commercial jet liners,

under charter to the USAF, flew into Mactan and

extracted 164 passengers each.38

However, the flow of aircraft into Mactan

inexplicably stopped. Although the person who

stopped the flow was not identified, it appears

the decision was made for two reasons: there

was no fuel available; and aircraft were arriving

faster than the ALCE could manifest passengers,

put luggage on pallets and deal with hundreds of

pets. The research of Anne Bazzell, at the time

an airlift historian, revealed that Philippine

Airlines denied further fuel to the evacuation

effort. This problem was exacerbated when

PACOM directed the Navy ships to continue disembarking passengers despite the rapidly building logjam at Mactan.39

An agreement was finally reached between

an Air Force contracting officer and Philippines

Airlines at Mactan for 100,000 gallons of fuel.

An additional 300,000 liters was made available

f rom Continental Airlines to accommodate

Continental and Key Airlines. After a nearly

eight-hour delay the airlift resumed.40

The ALCE’s earlier request for manpower

and equipment proved farsighted in light of the

rapidly building throng of evacuees. Two airtransportable medical clinics with the people to

man them arrived from Kadena Air Base, Japan,

and thousands of MREs arrived, also. From

Yokota Air Base, Japan, came one air conditioner, eight pallets of personal comfort items, living

facilities, a mobile kitchen and a 50-person team

72

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Approaching

Cebu, personnel

were airlifted by

helicopter from

the carrier to

Mactan.

* Airlift control element. Coordinated efforts at Mactan.
of engineers. The 4th Combat Communications

Squadron at Andersen Air Force Base, Guam,

deployed personnel and equipment to improve

communications at the isolated airfield.41

Donna Studer recounted her arrival at

Mactan, “I don’t know how many people were

there or how many airplanes had gone out, but it

looked like a concentration camp. They kept us

in a sort of a penned area. [There were] plenty

of portable toilets and plenty of MREs, and plenty of water . . . cots [were] set-up. In fact, I spent

one night sitting on a cot talking to one of the

volcanologists who was with

us on the evacuation.* But

people just kept coming in and

in and in. People were pulling

apart cardboard boxes to sit

down on and lie on . . . I didn’t

write it down in my notes, but

I think we were there about 16

to 18 hours. The thing that

was worst for me were the

mosquitoes . . . they just ate me

up. I went to [the medical

a rea], but the poor doctors,

they were just overw o r k e d .

Everyone had done a good job

of setting the place up, but

they weren’t prepared for the

numbers of people that were

there.”42

They also were not prepared to deliver

babies. Russ Casey, an Air Force master sergeant

from Clark was traveling in the evacuation flow

with his wife, who was a little over eight months

pregnant with their second child. They arrived

off-shore Cebu on the USS Long Beach and were

put aboard a landing craft for a rough, bouncy

trip ashore. After processing into the Mactan

holding area, they were given priority to depart

quickly. However, Mrs. Casey started showing

symptoms of an early labor. Rather than board

the aircraft for Andersen, Casey tried to find

someone to examine his wife at the medical tent.

No medical doctor was available, but a veterinarian examined her and confirmed she was in

labor. The family was transferred to a local hospital, Cebu Doctors’ Hospital, where Mrs. Casey

delivered a healthy baby girl. Two days later, the

Casey family, now numbering four, returned to

Mactan and immediately boarded a flight to

Andersen. The only clothing they had for the

n e w - b o rn was a receiving blanket they had

packed at the last moment and a diaper purchased at the Filipino hospital. When they

arrived at Guam, the wife of a finance officer

pulled them out of the lines and took them to her

home at Andersen Air Force Base.43

US Soil At Last!

At Guam, Rear Adm J.B. Perkins, the CINCPAC Representative for Guam, activated the Joint

Task Force Marianas to deal with the anticipated

influx of evacuees; however, the heaviest load

fell upon the people at Andersen Air Force Base.

Accommodations were sought all over the

island. More than 3,600 were housed at

Andersen, in dormitories, tents, and vacant base

housing. Another 2,000 spaces were found in

other government facilities on Guam.44

P rocessing of evacuees

was accomplished in a giant

hangar, once used to house and

repair B-52s. Evacuees accomplished preliminary clearance

of customs and immigration,

met with specialists to be

accounted for and counseled

on assignment and pay and

allowance pro c e d u res, and

were assigned temporary lodging until they could be placed

on an eastbound flight. They

were authorized an immediate

settlement of $2,000 as an

advance on damage and loss of

possessions.45

While the evacuees

received care, so did the aircraft. The assorted transports (C-141, C-5, C-130,

DC-10, DC-8, B-727, B-747, and L-1011) required

attention to make them ready for the long trip

back across the Pacific. Members of the 605th

M i l i t a ry Airlift Support Squadron (MASS)

teamed up with their hosts, the 633d Air Base

Wing, for what was to be a test of their skills and

endurance. “During the height of the crisis,

everyone was on 14-hour days with no days off,”

related Maj Kathy Runk, 605th Chief of

Maintenance. “Our biggest challenge was finding places to park aircraft so we could refuel

them. Several aircraft sometimes landed in an

hour, so we had to make lots of adjustments, but

it worked out.”46

“Everyone’s attitude was great despite the

hard work,” Major Runk said. “I heard someone

on the radio say, ‘How are we doing?’ Another

answered, ‘Oh, we must be behind.’ Someone

else came back with ‘No, we’re ahead! It’s a

piece of cake!’”47

Practically every unit on Andersen helped

out. The 633d Supply Squadron’s fuels people

pumped 3.8 million gallons of aviation fuel for

the thirsty transports. The 633d Transportation

S q u a d ron drivers and their Navy and

Government of Guam counterparts logged thousands of miles shuttling evacuees between air73

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

* This was John Ewert, who was rotating back to the US after com -

pleting his "tour of duty" monitoring the volcano.

In less than a week,

21,635 evacuees descend -

ed on Andersen Air Force

Base, Guam, with their

few salvaged possessions

and family pets
craft, the evacuation center and billeting areas.

To keep hunger pains to a minimum, the 633d

Services Squadron turned 600 loaves of bread,

700 pounds of ham, 250 pounds of cheese, 1,000

pounds of fresh fruit, 6,000 drinks and assorted

foods into in-flight meals for the hungry travelers. They also laundered 88,000 towels, 18,000

pillows, 25,000 sheets and 18,000 blankets and

pillow cases. Three hundred and twenty-four

Andersen residents opened their homes while

about 1,100 people logged more than 20,000

hours of volunteer work in the evacuation center.

48

Hundreds of local volunteers helped carry

bags, cared for children, drove cars and buses

and lent a willing ear. They heard about the terror and darkness of volcanic eruptions, the

exhausting trip, and the kindness and generosity

of the officers and men on the Navy ships that

ferried them to Mactan.49

In less than a week, 21,635 evacuees

descended on Andersen Air Force Base, Guam,

with their few salvaged possessions and family

pets.50 Pets were airlifted from Mactan in a variety of ways. Those in pet carriers were loaded

either into commercial jet cargo areas or put onto

pallets for loading onto military transport s .

However, many pet owners, especially those

with dogs, did not have carriers, so an emergency request was made for a shipment of carriers to Guam. Since it was not feasible to slow

down the evacuation flow to wait for the pet carriers, some pets were loaded into cardboard

boxes and shipped to Guam. Not all survived as

some boxes crushed during transit and some

unfortunate animals suffocated.

At Guam the pets became an even larger

problem than they had been at other points during the evacuation. Guam has strict laws that

govern importation of animals. Lengthy quarantine periods and documentation of vaccinations

are required. Of course, none of this was possible during the evacuation. Andersen Air Force

Base officials negotiated a “work-aro u n d ”

whereby they would quarantine all the animals

on the base and gave Guam officials assurances

that the animals would be strictly controlled

until they were loaded on aircraft for the mainland United States. As aircraft landed at

Andersen, a member of the quarantine team

boarded the aircraft with a customs inspector.

Owners stayed on the aircraft to identify their

animals. Once the pet was identified with its

owner, the pet was taken to the quarantine area

located on a base athletic field. There they were

given a medical check and put into the holding

area. The carriers were stacked several feet high

under tents to protect the animals from the sun.

Nearly 1,200 pets transited Andersen during the

evacuation.51

Also at issue were regulations that prohibit the transport of pets on military aircraft.

Transporting the pets in military aircraft had

been an issue before the evacuees had ever left

Clark. General Studer had discussed the issue

with Gen Jimmie V. Adams, the commander of

Pacific Air Forces, and Adams support e d

Studer’s desire to allow the pets to travel with

the families. Studer’s reasoning was that the

Clark population already had endured a lengthy

hardship, therefore, asking people to leave their

pets behind was asking too much.* The issue

was decided de facto when the evacuation to

Subic Bay was ordered. After the devastation of

Black Saturd a y, a decision to order a mass

killing of the pets was unthinkable.52

In a letter to her father, a teenaged girl

recounted her arrival at Guam. “[The large

hangar at Andersen] seemed like a maze of tables

and stations. We seemed to have to stop at every

table for something or other. I remember finding

it amusing that at every stop somebody gave us

money, but we really had no use for it. It wasn’t

like there was anything to buy or hotels for us to

stay in. But, we just kept taking it and dreamed

about what we would buy when we escaped

from the hellish predicament that we were in.

Once we had collected all of our money, KoolAid, and cookies, we escaped to our little bungalow. It was really nice. I’m pretty sure that

there were 3 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms. We all

took our first real showers in about two weeks.†

The showers we had taken on the ship were

navy showers . . . no constant stream of water.

74

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Pets at Guam –

Pets in their cages

were stacked in a

large holding area

at Andersen AFB.

Over a thousand

animals transited

the base.

* Most military members were aware that published AF non-combatant emer -

gency evacuation (NEO) plans prohibited evacuation of pets. It was generally

assumed pets would be left behind and euthanized.

† Throughout the evacuation, many families banded together in larger groups so

they could help each other. The girl is referring to three families that had been

traveling together and were living in the same quarters.
You squeezed the button on the hand-held shower head to wet yourself down. Then you lather,

then you squeeze and rinse again. It was quite

an arduous process. Anyway, we took our first

real, no nonsense, no eff o rt, no squeezing

involved, stand there and enjoy it showers. It

was fabulous. It was very much a cleansing in

more ways than one for all of us. I spent my time

crying and hoping that everything would end

soon. I’m fairly sure that I wasn’t the only one

who cried in the shower. We had spent a lot of

time being strong in the face of adversity, and

when we were all alone with our thoughts and

our tears it felt pretty good to just let it all out. In

fact, it felt great. I said about a

million prayers in that 10-

minute shower. I thanked God

for all of the lives saved and

said prayers for those lost. I

said prayers of protection for

you, Dad, and the others still at

Clark, and I said prayers of

strength for me and Mom. I

also asked for a way home. At

that point, I really didn’t care

how I got home, I just wanted

to be there ASAP . . . sometimes God has a sense of humor

and he’ll give you what you ask for but you have

to endure a lot to get it.

“I seem to remember eating real food that

night . . . anyway we did get a good night’s sleep.

The next morning we got up and went to the

hangars to figure out what was wrong with the

cat and why they wouldn’t let us have her.

Apparently because of the deaths of other pets

on the plane from Cebu, all other pets on those

flights had to be quarantined for something like

a month. It was ridiculous. I guess that Guam

doesn’t have any diseased animals and they like

to keep it that way. We tried to stress to them

that all this hoopla was causing us to get left in

the dust when it came to getting a flight out of

Guam.* We also begged and pleaded for them to

let her go just for the fact that [the cat] was old

and decrepit anyway and was probably going to

die if they kept her in the cage any longer . . . she

had been in her cage for three days, I think,

maybe longer.

“As the days went on, it seemed like we

were never going to get out of Guam . . . there

were people everywhere. It seemed like all of

the babies were crying . . . at the same time. It

was smelly. It was hot. It was loud. Mom and I

were in a hangar waiting for a plane for what

seemed like forever. I slept on a cardboard box

on the floor. I never thought that I would know

what it was like to be homeless, but I think we

all came pretty close.”53

The military families who lived at

Andersen, following the lead of Navy families at

Subic Bay, were generous, and many opened

their homes to the beleaguered evacuees under a

base program called “Adopt a Family.” One

family did more than their fair share. SSgt Dal

and Janice Whelpley and their three children

housed more than 17 families during the days

evacuees were travelling through the base. Mrs.

Whelpley said, “The full

impact finally hit me when I

walked into the big hangar,

and I saw all those people with

nowhere to go. My husband

looked at me, and I looked at

him. He went to work at the

billeting table, and I went to

Family Services to bring home

our first families.”

Mrs. Whelpley continued, “I picked up four families

the first day, and I’ve actually

lost count since then. I’d pick up one family

from the hangar, return home to settle them in,

and go back to pick up more. We were just trying to be as helpful as possible. It got pretty hectic around here. One time we had at least four

children living here named Jessica. We just

started calling them Jessica One, Jessica Two and

so on. It was pretty funny.

“One [evacuee], Elita, even managed to

look beyond her troubles to help some of the

other evacuees. Even though she had lost everything, she didn’t have a bad outlook on life. It

was really inspiring for me because no matter

how down everybody else was, she kind of

brought them up.”

Mrs. Whelpley and her friend, Denise

Bodam, like many of the host families did their

best to make the evacuees comfortable. “We

took them around to all the places that they

needed to go. We made sure that they had everything they needed. We bought the food they

wanted, so that they could prepare the kinds of

food they liked. I think they were pretty happy

and satisfied with their stay.”

When a reporter asked Mrs. Whelpley if

she would do it all again, she responded, “In a

heartbeat. Except this time, I’d take in more.”54

Another Andersen wife, Carolynn Farrell,

related how she selected families to take to her

home. “Some women, exhausted after carrying

a new-born, a toddler and two very heavy bags

containing all that they now owned,† would sit

When we were all alone

with our thoughts and our

tears it felt pretty good to

just let it all out

* Although the decision had been made to allow pets on military transports, there

was still confusion at Andersen. Initially, evacuees travelling with pets were told

they would have to wait until commercial aircraft, which could carry pets, were

available. Ultimately, families and their pets were loaded on both types of air -

craft to accelerate the flow back to the mainland US.

† Rumors ran rampant concerning the conditions at Clark. Many evacuees

believed their homes had been destroyed. Most could not foresee a circum -

stance where their belongings could be packed and sent to them.

75

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
Evacuees board a

ship taking them

to safety.

down and cry. Others, too tired to sit and think,

would stand and cry – still clutching a confused

toddler and sleeping baby. These are the women

that I took home with me.”55

The large hangars that were used to

process the evacuees were crowded as evacuees

went from station to station manned with volunteers from the USAF, USN, USA, and USMC.

They first processed through customs officials

who searched luggage and cleared it for entry.

The luggage was then set aside so the evacuees

would not have to lug it through the long lines.

A first aid station and medical desk, where doctors, nurses and volunteers worked 12-hour

shifts, offered assistance to those with health

issues. Base chaplains and evacuee chaplains

worked at a station and patrolled the processing

areas offering assistance and advice where needed. Another station offered day-care services

and on-the-spot baby-sitting for those who wanted it. A Red Cross desk offered message service

so evacuees could send messages to their families in the United States. An international telephone company provided free telephone calls,

one-per-family, to any location in America. The

most prized possession of the long lines, though,

was a blue piece of paper that established the

holder’s position in the queue waiting for a

transport to take them the rest of the way home.56

Home

Planeload after planeload depart e d

Andersen for a refueling stop at Hickam Air

Force Base, Hawaii, and their final destinations

at McChord, Travis, and Norton Air Force Bases.

As evacuees made their way across the Pacific,

repatriation centers were set up at the bases.

These reception centers provided comprehensive services, including child care, medical care,

escorts, financial and legal assistance, airline

flight information, interpreters, food centers, pet

areas, hygiene supplies and counselors. The

Red Cross, United Services Organization (USO),

and Salvation Army aided the evacuees. At

Hickam, the Red Cross provided snacks and

drinks, while hundreds of volunteers worked

round-the-clock carrying bags, babies, and pets,

allowing exhausted evacuees to rest before the

final leg to the United States.57

After arriving at a stateside port, the evacuees again went through the long processing

lines. An escort was assigned to each family as

they got off the airplane. The escorts, military

personnel who volunteered their time, shepherded the evacuees through the myriad stations

waiting to process them into the United States.

The first step was to clear immigration and

customs. By this stage the evacuees had been

processed several times, so any illegal travelers

had been picked out. Master Sergeant Casey,

whose daughter had been born three days earlier

at Mactan, was frustrated and angry to find an

immigration officer who demanded a passport

for the newborn. A supervisor quickly settled

the dispute, and the Casey family, intact, entered

the United States.58

One of the last steps for the evacuees was

to be issued a free airline ticket to a location of

their choice on the mainland United States.

Kathy Wallace, a scheduled airline ticket office

(SATO)* employee from Nellis Air Force Base,

Nevada, had volunteered to work at McChord

Air Force Base to augment its swamped travel

officers. Less than two hours after she heard

about the need for volunteers, Mrs. Wallace was

on an airplane to Seattle, where she rented a car

and drove to McChord. She recalled, “There

w e re tons of workers already there when I

arrived, but they had been working around the

clock and were exhausted. Volunteers from the

base were bringing in food and drinks to keep

them going. We had a whole assembly line. The

escorts would pick them up off the plane as soon

as they came in and fill out a slip that said where

they wanted to go. Most of these planes that

came in were full of women and children. We

would then book them on airlines to where they

wanted to go out of Seattle airport.

“They were all exhausted. A play room

was set up for the children where they could lay

on mats and watch television. Red Cross had

tents set up outside. Some of [the evacuees] only

came with a garbage bag full of clothes. A lot of

them just came with the shirt on their back.

They could pick up clothes and toys at the Red

Cross tent. There were [many] pregnant women,

plus the ones who had babies on the ships. I’ve

76

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

* SATO operates on most military bases to provide commercial air travel for serv -

ice people and dependents.
never seen so many women and children. Some

of the women could hardly speak English, plus

[some] parents were with them.* Some of them

were going to families whose names they did not

know and whom they had never even met. It

was just overwhelming.”59

No matter which base the evacuees arrived

at, one feeling was universal – relief. The

teenager continued in a letter to her father,

“When we landed [at Travis] we were greeted by

AF personnel dressed in their mess dresses with

blankets. There were cameras everywhere and

reporters asking questions. I’ve never experienced anything like it. These people were so

happy to see us, and I’m sure that we were even

happier to see them. I kissed the runway and

said a prayer for me and Mom’s safe arrival on

solid ground that wasn’t moving, breaking up, or

exploding. We made our way into the airport

and once again began the ritual of collecting

money and cookies. The people at McChord

were even more prepared for us. They had

everything known to man. I bought some magazines and waited while Mom found us a flight to

[grandmother’s].

“I learned some patience and some other

things, too. I learned that mothers are tough as

nails, people really can come together when they

have to, there’s no place like home, singing can

calm any scary situation, the shower is the best

place to cry, not to be afraid of God when he’s

trying to get your attention . . . he just wants you

to listen for a minute, and that I can sleep anytime, anywhere, and in any position. That’s a

good skill to have when confronted by a big

scary mountain with nothing better to do but

blow up and ruin my party.”60

Nearly 20,000† evacuees spread out to

homes across the United States to “Safe Haven”

locations. Gradually the military men and

women that had been held at Subic Bay caught

up with their families. Families of service men

and women still at Clark had to wait longer.

Everyone wondered about the fate of Clark, but

they were most concerned about their personal

possessions that had been left behind on June

10, 1991.

77

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

* It was not unusual for an American serviceman, who had married a Filipina, to

adopt some members of his wife's family. Extended families that take care of

each other are an important part of Philippines' culture.

† Some had left the evacuation flow at Guam and Hawaii to join families there.

NOTES TO CHAPTER 7

1 Interview, Donna Studer with author, January 5, 1999 [hereafter cited

as Studer, Donna interview].

2 Conversations, Amy Anderegg with author, September 1998-Febru -

ary 1999 [hereafter cited as Anderegg, Amy conversations].

3 JJTF-FV SITREP, 101100Z Jun 91.

4 End of Tour Report, Maj Gen William A. Studer, 5 January 1990-1

December 1991, p 2.

5 Studer interview.

6 JTF-FV SITREP, 121100Z Jun 91.

7 Studer interview.

8 JTF-FV SITREP, 121000Z Jun 91.

9 JTF-FV SITREP, 131300Z Jun 91.

10 JTF-FV SITREP, 131300Z Jun 91.

11 JTF-FV SITREP, 141645Z Jun 91.

12 Bazzell, Anne M., Joint Task Force-Fiery Vigil, 8 June-1 July 1991,

834th Airlift Division, Hickam AFB, Hawaii, 96853-5000, 1 April 1992

[hereafter cited as Bazzell].

13 Ibid., p 10. 

14 Ibid., p 13.

15 Ibid., p 14.

16 News article, "Honolulu Star Bulletin,” June 26, 1991, p B-3.

17 Goodman interview.

18 Bazzell, p 24.

19 Goodman interview.

20 Conversations, Jean Anderegg with author, September 1998-Febru -

ary 1999 [hereafter cited as Anderegg, Jean conversations].

21 Anderegg, Amy conversations.

22 JTF-FIERY VIGIL SITREP, 181415Z Jun 91.

23 Anderegg, Jean conversations.

24 Studer, Donna interview.

25 Ibid.

26 Anderegg, Amy conversations.

27 Robinson, Daniel K., E-6 USN, Msg from USS Champlain to

NAVPACEN, San Diego, 070834 Jul 91.

28 Anderegg, Amy conversations.

29 Taylor, Barry R., Lt USN, interview for NAVPACEN.

30 Williams, Derrick R., E-6 USN, interview for NAVPACEN.

31 Message, USS Peleliu to COMSEVENTHFLT, 210233Z Jun 91.

32 Bazzell, p 17.

33 Ibid., p 21.

34 AMEMB SITREP 32, Subj: Mt Pinatubo, 181658Z Jun 91.

35 Bazzell, p 23.

36 Ibid., p 15.

37Ibid., p 17.

38 Ibid.

39 Ibid.

40 Ibid.

41Ibid., p 18.

42 Studer, Donna interview.

43 Interview, MSgt Russell W. Casey, with author, January 16, 1999

[hereafter cited as Casey interview].

44 Bazzell, p 16.

45 Ibid.p 19.

46 Ibid.

47 Ibid.

48 Ibid., p 21.

49 Ibid.

50 Ibid., p 25.

51 Tropic Topics, official newspaper of Andersen AFB, Guam, date

unknown, ca. June 17, 1991 [hereafter cited as Tropic Topics].

52 Studer, interview.

53 Letter, Amy Anderegg to her father, n.d.

54 Tropic Topics.

55 Ibid.

56 Ibid.

57 Bazzell, p 22.

58 Casey interview.

59 Interview, Kathleen M. Wallace with author, January 16, 1999.

60 Anderegg, Amy conversations.
In Washington, DC, civilian and military leaders of the Air Force discussed the fate of

Clark Air Base. On the other side of the world, the Ash Warriors attacked the formidable task

of packing the household goods trapped in 3,000 military family homes on the base, several

hundred homes off the base, and a like number of dormitory rooms in the base’s barracks. The

official nomenclature for these possessions is household goods, but those impersonal words

do not reflect the emotional value those possessions held for the Ash Warriors. Hidden behind

a nearly impassable tangle of branches and under a blanket of mud and ash, which had hardened into crunchy concrete, were children’s first pairs of shoes, wedding photos, christening

gowns, grandmothers’ china sets, high school diplomas and other treasures of the heart.

Although such possessions are valued by every family, they held an even more emotional significance to a military family that moved around the world during years of military service.

They represented ties to loved ones, neighbors and places that had not been seen in a long time

and might never be seen again.

As soon as water, food, and shelter were secured at Clark, the Ash Warriors turned their

efforts to saving as much as possible. The problems were many. The volcano continued to

erupt huge, swirling, black clouds of ash that frequently drifted across the base. Sometimes it

was so thick that visibility was near zero and all work outside had to stop. Branches from the

once-beautiful acacia trees, whose expanses had shaded the residential areas, clogged streets,

driveways, and entryways to the homes. The ash on the streets made driving very difficult for

normal vehicles and impossible for moving vans. However, the Ash Warriors’ worst enemy

was the approaching southwest monsoon that would bring the rainy season.

During the eruptions, falling ash and rain filled the base drainage systems and sewers.

Essentially the broad expanses of the base were made smooth; there were no ditches or curbs

to direct the water in predictable directions. The result was an effect called “sheeting.”

Whenever rain fell, it flowed in huge sheets across the ash until it eventually eroded new patterns of flow. However, these patterns did not remain constant. The next rainfall would wash

new patterns into newer ones, and the surging rain waters might capriciously change directions.

The surging rain water during the eruptions on Black Saturday had left plenty of visible

evidence of their potential. Rushing water and mud had blasted through the doors of several

homes as well as large, seemingly stronger structures on the base. The volcanologists advised

the Clark CAT to move first the lowest areas on the base. Another scientist, Dick Janda, joined

the team shortly after Black Saturday. Janda was an expert on lahars, the mud flows that

inevitably follow an eruption like Pinatubo’s. Janda worked closely with planners from the 3d

Transportation Squadron, commanded by Lt Col Doug Steward (Hotwheels), to divide the base

into sectors. The highest priority sectors were the ones that seemed most vulnerable to mud

flows by virtue of their low altitude or proximity to paths that water had already eroded

through the ash.

Usually, the rainy season came to Clark in July. Every ounce of effort the Ash Warriors

could muster was aimed at one goal: beat the rain. Eagle set a goal of 100 homes per day. If

the transportation squadron packed out 100 per day, it would take 30 days to complete the

79

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Chapter 8 PACKING OUT

The first priority of clean up

was to shovel the roofs clear

of tons of ash to make safe

the work and living areas.
80

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

effort. In normal times, the base had been able

to pack out 20 or 30 homes a day. Hotwheels

recalled the goal as “impossible.” He understood well the effort moving that many homes a

day would take. For example, an overseas packing crate held 1,000 pounds and was constructed of 8 sheets of 4’ x 8’ plywood, and an average home held 6,000 pounds of goods.

Therefore, each home required 48 sheets of plywood, so 100 homes required 4,800 sheets of

plywood per day.

The local moving companies that the base

contracted to move household goods had suffered extensive damage to their facilities as well.

Workers employed by the moving companies were living in

very bad conditions in Angeles,

and their families were suffering from dangerous shortages

of food and water. However,

Hotwheels was determined to

make every effort to pack as fast

as possible in order to beat the

rains, and he had just the person who could make it happen.

TSgt Renee Longstre e t ,

NCOIC of the Outbound

Household Goods section of

the transportation squadro n

spearheaded the pack-out effort

of the Ash Warriors’ personal

possessions. Longstreet had

been assigned to Clark only

t h ree months earlier on an

unaccompanied tour without

her husband and 15-month old

son. She had extensive experience in moving household

goods, but her work area was

unusable.

She recalled, “When we

saw our building was

destroyed, I took a team of the

people in. It was not a safe

area. We went in understanding that we had to be very careful so we didn’t

disturb things so something came down on us.

We wanted to go in and get as many documents,

salvageable documents, as we could and equipment, because we could not work out of the

building at all. We relocated to the motor pool

and got everything set up there.”1

A more difficult problem for Longstreet

was slow and often-changing direction from base

leadership. Initially, she was told to move any

household goods as fast as she could, and the

first people at her desk were some base school

teachers who lived off-base. She filled out their

applications, but before she could get movers to

the homes, she was told to move only homes onbase. The area to which she was directed, in her

recollection, was an officers’ housing are a .

However, before any significant packing was

done there, the CAT finally gave her group commander a third and final plan.2

The final plan, which Longstreet implemented, was designed around Janda’s advice on

where he thought the mud would flow next.

Low areas were to be packed first; higher areas

last. The first area attacked was 250 homes near

the Sapang Bato entrance to the base. The CAT,

following Janda’s advice, selected the are a

because it was the lowest on the base and was

only a stone’s throw from a

large branch of the river that

ran just to the south.

Engineers plunged into the

a rea with dozens of local

workers, chain saws, bulldozers, and road graders. The

“Dirt Boys of CE”* who cleared

the streets and driveways was

led by CMSgt Dan Anderson.

His 65-person team, augmented by a Red Horse† team from

Osan Air Base, Korea, worked

exhausting hours opening

access to the homes.3

As soon as the first

streets were cleared, several

teams entered the area. Each

team consisted of a legal representative,‡ a customs inspector and a house monitor.

Whenever possible, the house

monitor was from the unit to

which the occupant was

assigned. The team’s first

problem was to confirm they

w e re in the correct house.

Sometimes, the base housing

office was able to provide a

key and the owner’s name;

h o w e v e r, the housing off i c e

and its computerized records had suffered considerable water and mildew damage so the

records were incomplete. At times, the team had

to search personal records to identify the occupant. Since most occupants had taken their keys

with them, locksmiths had to open, repair, and

re-key nearly all the 3,000 houses.4 “Picking a

lock isn’t as easy as TV portrays it,” said Sgt

Kenneth Schetroma, a locksmith, “it sometimes

takes hammers.”5

Hidden behind a nearly

impassable tangle of

branches and under a

blanket of mud and ash,

which had hardened into

crunchy concrete, were

children’s first pairs of

shoes, wedding photos,

christening gowns, grand -

mothers’ china sets, high

school diplomas and other

treasures of the heart

* Civil Engineering.

† Air Force combat engineering team.

‡ Lawyers from legal offices at other PACAF bases and US bases came on tempo -

rary duty (TDY) to supplement the teams.
Once the team was positive they knew

who owned the goods, they did a quick walkthrough of the house to determine what could be

shipped. The first teams in the houses were

shocked sometimes at what they found.

Although most homes seemed undamaged when

viewed from the outside, the inside was often a

different story. The homes had been without air

conditioning or any fresh airflow for at least two

weeks (several weeks for the homes packed

later) and the ever-present mildew had already

started to turn walls and ceilings black. Food

left in kitchens rotted on countertops and trashcans. Large fish tanks were dark green with

algae, and the putrid corpses of once-beautiful

tropical fish floated on their surfaces. The smell

in many homes was nearly overpowering, but

the worst of it were the refrigerators and the

occasional dead family pet.6

The teams quickly learned that the refrigerators were a loss. At first they tried to empty

them and clean them up for shipment, but the

task was impossible. The smell of rotting food

made cleaning the appliances a task few could

stomach. Ultimately, teams sealed the doors

with duct tape and moved them out of the houses where they were abandoned.

Many pets were left behind. Some dogs

were left tied outside, and those were released

by security patrols to fend for themselves. Some

dogs were discovered in homes by security

patrols if the animal happened to bark when a

patrol was near. Concerned Ash Warrior patrolmen also released or adopted those dogs by

either finding the key at the housing office or by

just kicking in the door.

* However, cats and

other small animals left behind seldom survived.

Although no homes on the base collapsed

under the ash, many roofs sprang leaks and

muddy water seeped under doors and window

ledges. Carpets, draperies and stuffed furniture

were ruined in many homes.

The inspection and packing teams tried

their best to prepare the goods for packing as

though it were their own things being packed.7

They washed dirty dishes from the sinks and

threw out spoiled foods. They searched the

homes for valuables and boxed jewelry, photos

and important documents then mailed the boxes

directly to the owners. They filled out an inventory of everything in the house that was shippable and noted on the inventories things that

were not shipped such as refrigerators, bedding,

curtains, clothing, and carpets ruined by the volcano.† The legal office representatives, organized by SMSgt Jeannie Shaw,

8 confirmed documentation, and customs inspectors insured that

no illegal items were packed for shipping.

As soon as the inspection team finished

assessing the house, the local moving company

assigned to move the goods came in and packed

the items for shipping. Someone from the team

stayed with the movers during the pack-out to

discourage theft. Although there were certainly

instances where movers stole items from the

houses they packed out, efforts were made to

discourage thieves from prospering at the

expense of displaced Americans. The security

police set up sting teams that “planted” valuables in homes then arrested movers who made

a grab for the items.

Capt Erin Gannon, of the 6200th Tactical

Fighter Training Group, was on temporary duty

in Alaska helping to execute PACAF’s first Cope

Thunder North exercise when the volcano devastated Clark. Along with her squadron commander and one other member, she returned to

Clark to close down the Cope Thunder operation

and to help ship household goods and vehicles

that belonged to her squadron mates.

Captain Gannon recalled, “[The effort] was

really well organized at the beginning, and once

people got into the mode of understanding how

we needed to function as a team it worked out

well. We would have an address, name of the

person, and the team would congregate outside

that home when it was time to do that house.

Usually we had two or three homes a day that we

were supposed to go get shipped out. The team

would meet and we would wait till the whole

team was there and then we’d all go in at once.

“The weather was really hot. You're in

your BDUs, and it’s like you are standing in

81

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Packers loaded up

3,000 homes in

less than two

months in a mad

rush to beat the

rainy season.

* Rumors circulated that patrolmen shot these stray animals, but no record of such

shootings has been found. The security commander said that no pets in their

homes were shot by his forces.

† Such documentation made it easier for families to make claims for reimburse -

ment to the government or insurance companies. The legal office at Clark

inspected over 5,000 homes off- and on-base and paid over $650,000 for more

than 840 claims. (Source: Clark Air Base Closure Report, signed by Col Bruce Free -

man, 3 TFW commander, November 26, 1991, PACAF Command Historian's

Office)
snow banks. Literally like having to walk

through two feet of snow to get up to these houses because of the ash. Most of these areas, the

team would gather outside, and most of these

areas it would be fairly easy access, [but in] others we would have shovels, and we would have

to dig our way, a path, to get into the house and

have an easy access path to get their household

goods out. So, there were a lot of those things

going on, and I remember thinking, it’s like it

snowed here and we’re all standing around outside, and it’s either sleeting, it’s raining with the

dust and ash coming down on you, just feeling

like we were in some other kind of atmosphere.

It was a real dichotomy because, visually it felt

like snow, but it was boiling hot.

“One of the worst things about going into

these homes was that the refrigerators were full

of food and some of these houses, this was a

month after the refrigerator had sat there, and so

the homes really, really smelled bad. So . . . the

first thing on the agenda was for the team to go

into the house and open the windows. I had a

standard thing, I’d go in and tape up the refrigerator with duct tape, because your [normal

reaction] when it’s boiling hot outside is to walk

up to the refrigerator and open it [without thinking].

“You always felt you were intruding very

much on people’s personal lives because normally when a military person gets ready to move

. . .you have things organized for the move.

People know how to move in the military. Well,

[the homes] were just like after a normal day . . .

because people just evacuated, the homes

weren’t ready. So, we had to make decisions. Is

this pile of newspapers important to these people, or is it something that I can allow to be

trashed? We ended up shipping things that, in

my mind, I would never ship if it was my home

and I was getting ready to move. You just didn’t

know if a stack of papers, pile of books or a thing

of magazines was important to people. I personally felt I had to try to respect people’s privacy

and try not to look through their things.

“At the beginning, the first couple of days,

I wished I was [moving people I didn’t know],

but after that I felt very good because people

from the squadron understood I was doing for

them what they would have done for me.

[Sometimes], they would call and say, ‘could

you go in my house and get this special document and mail it to me?’ We were doing special

things like that for people which I felt good

about. Some people . . . didn’t understand what

we were going through and they were asking

ridiculous things, ‘Can you send my kids’ winter

coats?’ Other people had things they really

needed, a set of car keys, or some important document, a wedding album.

“I felt really good, whether it was a

squadron member or someone else, that they

were getting their belongings, and we were able

to take care of things and were paying attention

as they would be if they were there. We’d find

their stereo boxes and put things together. I’d

take down the curtains and fold them nice and

do things.

“Most people, virtually everyone, left their

homes not even thinking they’d be gone for a

couple days. I was not there to talk to people as

they were evacuating, to see what people’s emotions were, or what they really thought, but from

the state of their homes, across the board, they

all thought they were coming back. Everyone

left their garbage, like we’ll be back in a couple

of hours. One guy left his ID card on the counter. That really floored me!”*

Not everything the teams found in the

homes made them feel good. Gannon continued,

“Maybe after a day or two [security police and

OSI agents] were added to the teams because

people were finding things in [a few] household

82

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Virtually every -

thing on the base

was packed -

homes, offices and

dormitories.

There was massive

destruction of

some facilities.

Most buildings

weren’t designed

to withstand tons

of ash, drenched

by typhoon rain. 

* Nearly any business a military member does with a military institution

requires the member to present a valid military identification card.

Recruits quickly learn to always have it in their possession.
goods that were really at issue. I mean there

were drugs found, there was pornography.

* If

you find drugs in someone’s house . . . we would

still pack up those people’s goods, [but] their

goods would be “red-lined,” which would mean

that the member would have to report to TMO†

on the receiving end. And then that member’s

commander would be dealing with him from a

legal aspect in terms of what type of contraband

or illegal items were found in the house. But the

security police got kind of rambunctious in

terms of . . . I remember one incident where people had pictures of their family, stacks of photos,

and they had one picture of a nude little baby,

and [the police] said it was child pornography.

And it was those people’s kid in among the

Christmas pictures, and it was not in my mind

pornography . . . they were just really zealous

about it. And we found a shoe box in somebody’s house that was full of classified [information].”‡9

A week into the packing effort, only 30

homes a day were being packed. Steward and

other commanders huddled with logisticians

and transporters. They determined that local

workers were losing time traveling to and from

work. A deal was struck with housing officials,

security police, services, transportation, and the

moving companies. They opened base dormitories in which the workers were allowed to live

and provided them with meals. The scheme

resulted in an immediate increase of at least 25

percent more work time for the packers.

Another decision that greatly accelerated

the household goods pack out was one to consolidate the sea-van** loading on the former Cope

Thunder ramp.†† A very large area that had

accommodated Cope Thunder aircraft for more

than 15 years, its main feature was an enormous

open-ended hangar with an arched roof. The

odd-looking hangar was nicknamed the “wind

tunnel” and was a landmark familiar to everyone

who flew in Cope Thunder exercises. The entire

ramp and the wind tunnel were turned into a

staging area for the movers. Trucks brought

household goods that had been loaded into

wooden crates to the Cope Thunder ramp where

they were loaded into sea-vans and sealed. They

were sealed to prevent pilferage during transit to

the United States.

The packing teams slowly accelerated the

rate to 70 houses per day, but that rate held there

for three weeks. Despite the best efforts of

Longstreet and her team, the goal of moving 100

houses a day was not achieved until over 75 percent of the pack-outs were complete. The rainy

season and its attendant typhoon arrivals, combined with frequent blasts of ash from the volcano, slowed the effort. Crate-building materials, which were supplied by the moving contractors, nearly ran out halfway through the campaign as well. Eagle would later say, “It may

have been a goal, and [some] said [it was an]

unrealistic goal, but we shot for it, and surprising as those things are, you give somebody something to shoot for, and they will achieve it.”10

Security of the household goods was a serious concern. Sergeant Longstreet, in coordination with headquarters at both Hickam and the

Pentagon, elected to ship all household goods

back to the mainland United States, even the

ones that were ultimately destined for delivery

to bases in Guam, Japan, Korea, and other Pacific

bases. Her decision was based on one factor.

Goods that were shipped to Pacific bases were

not sealed in sea-van containers when they left

the base. However, goods that went back to the

States were sealed into their containers at Clark

and stayed in the containers until they arrived in

Oakland, California. Of course, it was more

expensive and took longer for the goods to go all

the way to California and then back to Japan or

83

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

The goal was 100

houses packed out

in a day.

* Possession of drugs by a military member is illegal. Possession of pornography is

not, but it may not be shipped in household goods.

† Traffic Management Office.

‡ Confidential or secret material. Having such material in one's home is a serious

security breach. 

** A tractor-trailer body that can be stacked until time for transport at which time

it is lifted by a crane onto a tractor-trailer frame and driven away. At the port it

is then lifted onto a ship. Technically, they are sea/land vans since they can be

carried either on trucks or ships. Ash Warriors sometimes referred to them as sea

vans.

†† A ramp is Air Force terminology for an aircraft parking area.
Guam, but in her view the expense was worth

the trade-off for security.

11 She recalled, “It was

not cost effective, but I felt the people went

through enough, and even though they had to

wait longer to get it, at least they got something.

I had people call me up on the phone who were

upset, they were irate. I felt for them but I said,

‘OK, I had to make a decision. I felt you would

have liked to have gotten whatever was left of

your property, here, than not get anything at all

by letting it get pilfered.’”12 Ash Warriors such

as Japan-bound Russ Casey, whose wife had

delivered a daughter in Cebu, had to wait several months before they got their personal possessions, but they received everything that was shipped to

them.13

Rains from the southwest

monsoon and typhoons continued to hit the base throughout

the packing effort. Roads that

the Dirt Boys from CE had

recently plowed filled again

with muddy ash and became

i m p a s s a b l e .1 4 Whenever ash

from a recent eruption mixed

with rain, it clogged transformers and shorted power lines.

The plan to move low-lying areas first was justified when floods from heavy rain swept through

the area three days after the Sapang Bato area

saw the last household goods removed. Many

homes in that sector were damaged and flooded.

After the household goods from base housing were packed up, Sergeant Longstreet and her

section turned to the task of packing the homes

that were off-base. The decision to pack the offbase homes last had been a difficult one. When

the pack-out first started, Eagle had serious

reservations about the safety and security of

starting a large-scale effort to pack-out the offbase houses.15 The rivers and bridges of Angeles

were already ravaged by lahars with the threat of

more to come. He feared that teams might be

trapped off the base or worse caught by lahars

trying to return to the base. Additionally, security forces were stretched to their limits guarding

the base housing and government property. If he

were to send security forces with the movers, he

would diminish security within the base perimeter.

16 He elected to pack the on-base property

first, hoping that the eruptions would subside

and a better understanding of the lahar patterns

would emerge before the moving teams moved

outside the base perimeter. The decision abandoned some off-base residences to looters.

Property in some other

off-base homes fell victim to

landlords. Ash Warriors in the

United States depended on a

friend or squadron member

still at Clark to check on their

off-base homes. As the onbase pack-out progressed more

and more people were reporting that some off-base homes

w e re entirely empty – bare

floors and bare walls. After

some brief investigation by Col

Royle Carrington, Clark’s head

lawyer, it was determined that landlords were

emptying their former tenants’ homes and holding the goods as collateral for rent that the landlords claimed was owed them. Under the circumstances, there was no legal way to deny the

landlords’ claims. A team from the legal office

was dispatched into Angeles to “pay off” the

landlords and rescue the Americans’ property so

it could be shipped home.

GOVERNMENT PROPERTY

On July 17, 1991 a joint US-Philippines

announcement stated that Clark Air Base would

be closed.* The announcement lifted a great burden from everyone on the devastated base. The

mission was clear: move out. The Ash Warriors

began the task of salvaging government property.

Millions of dollars of equipment was trapped in

several supply warehouses that had collapsed.

The regional medical center held tons of valuable examination and treatment equipment. All

of the equipment for the 3d Tactical Fighter

Wing’s F-4s and the 353d Special Operations

Wing’s aircraft remained. Hundreds of tons of

munitions were in the MSA storage igloos. Over

three million gallons of jet fuel and another million gallons of diesel fuel and gasoline were on

the base.17

One of the most important units on the

base had been the 624th Military Airlift Support

84

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

On July 17, 1991 a joint

US-Philippines announce -

ment stated that Clark Air

Base would be closed

* Details of this announcement are discussed in Chapter 9.

The aerial port in

1998.
85

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Group, commanded by Col Al Schweizer. Before

the eruptions, the 624th was responsible for all

en route support for Military Airlift Command

(MAC)* flight crews and aircraft transiting Clark.

They also executed the airlift schedule through

the Far East and Indian Ocean. More than 700

people were assigned to the unit’s thre e

squadrons. As MAC’s representative on the

base, Schweizer and his troops were tasked to

remove all MAC equipment they could find, to

include digging it out, and preparing it for shipment to other MAC bases in the area. They

processed fork lifts, K-loaders,† tractors, spare C5 engines, aerospace ground equipment, tools,

supplies and several pallet loads of F-16 spare

parts that were stranded in collapsed warehouses. Their equipment was doled out to bases in

Guam, Japan, Korea, Hawaii, Diego Garcia, and

Singapore.18

At the base hospital, one of PACAF’s large

regional medical centers, workers packed expensive medical equipment as they sloshed through

muddy ash which had flooded all the floors

through huge leaks in the roof. By mid July the

effort was going swimmingly and the CAT-scan

equipment was moved to Subic Bay.

19 Due to

lack of power to operate the hospital’s elevators,

many bulky and expensive medical items were

initially stranded on the second floor. By using

two 4,000-pound forklifts and a borrowed crane

they were able to salvage these items. Three

weeks later all the radiology equipment was

shipped, and by early September the huge building was empty of valuable, salvageable equipment except for an “angio suite” that was

shipped in the next two weeks.20 Medical and

dental records, which were removed before the

evacuation and taken to Subic Bay in a school

bus, arrived at Kadena Air Base, Japan, where

they were held until families called for them.

Ultimately, they salvaged over $23 million of

medical and dental equipment.21 While they

packed they still cared for the Ash Warriors. The

day after the volcano erupted, the 657th Tactical

Hospital, commanded by Lt Col (Dr.) Charles B.

Green, erected a mobile facility and started seeing patients. The 23-person unit worked 12-

hour shifts and saw more than 100 patients a day

for everything from broken bones to aspirin dispensing. They also tested water and food supplies.22

The unenviable task of accounting for all

government property on the base fell to Col

Randy Miller’s 3d Supply Squadro n .

Essentially, their challenge fell into two general

categories: accepting the turn-in of supplies from

units across the base and recovery of supplies in

the giant, collapsed supply warehouses. The

task was formidable, according to a staff officer

at PACAF, who recalled his first telephone contact with Clark’s deputy supply commander, “he

described destruction that was hard to imagine –

half of the supply warehouses had collapsed

roofs, there was no electricity or running water,

buildings were down all over the base, and the

main base computer had flooded and water was

coming out of the disk drives. While he tried to

describe the devastation, his words did not convey the true magnitude of the disaster as much

as his voice. I have known him since 1983, and

he has always been one of those upbeat ‘make

light of any adversity’ type of guys. I’d never

known him to be really down until I spoke with

him on the phone that day. His sense of defeat

came through loud and clear, and I knew then

that we had our work cut out for us.”23

Initially, supply people worked at the supply squadron complex. However, the main

administrative building was badly damaged. So,

they relocated their operation to the 3d Combat

Repair Squadron building on the flightline,

which was undamaged. The building had small

loading docks and open floor space to accommodate equipment turn-ins. As the recovery and

turn-in of equipment progressed, though, the

volume of gear increased dramatically, and the

operation was moved to the aerial port‡ where

they established a packing and crating operation

as well. Miller recalled, “It was great – items

could be turned in, initially accounted for, documented for shipment, packed, and loaded at

one building.”24

The most dangerous job was recovering

millions of dollars of supplies from the collapsed warehouses. Engineers positioned a large

crane beside the first collapsed building, then

Blowing ash

made packout

difficult but not

impossible.

* MAC operated most of the USAF's transport aircraft.

† A large, expensive piece of equipment that loads cargo on transport aircraft.

‡ A large area on the flightline where cargo was prepared to be loaded on trans -

port jets, and where downloaded cargo was prepared for base distribution.
slowly extracted the tangled roof panels and

beams one at a time. Incredibly, they discovered

that almost all the equipment underneath the

mess was undamaged. Much of the equipment,

which included jet engines, spare parts, precision tools and test equipment, was packed in

individual containers or heavily wrapped in

plastic, all of which served to protect the mummified items from ash and rain.

The equipment in the ware h o u s e s

belonged to many base units, and as it was

recovered they returned the items to the Air

Force supply system. One of the warehouses,

the one solely dedicated to the supply squadron,

had contained $211.4 million in equipment

before Black Saturday. The reclamation effort

recovered $190.9 million of it.25

THE POVS

Thousands of abandoned privately owned

vehicles were scattered across the base. Many

were “Clarkmobiles,” vehicles that were passed

from airman to airman over the years as new

arrivals replaced those ending their tours. Most

Clarkmobiles were not worth much money, but

some were valuable. All the vehicles were dualre g i s t e red; they carried Philippines license

plates, and they had stickers on windshields or

bumpers issued by base security police.

The transportation squadron and legal

office undertook the arduous task of identifying

the POVs and moving them to a large holding

area near the flightline. Many of the vehicles

were blocked from access by the large piles of

ash pushed against their sides as road graders

plowed the streets. So, they often had to be

shoveled out by hand in scenes reminiscent of

the days following a blizzard in New England.

Once the POVs were free of ash and branches,

they were towed to the holding area. The primary concern was to get them off the streets,

especially in the housing areas, so the household

goods teams and movers could get the homes

packed.

Many evacuees telephoned friends or

squadron mates at Clark and asked them to ship

the evacuee’s vehicle to the United States for

them. Gannon recalled helping out in one such

instance, “We had a squadron member who had

a brand-new truck. He really wanted that truck

to be shipped. We were all caught up in things

so that truck sat there for a couple of weeks until

the battery blew,

* so the truck wasn’t functioning

properly. I went with the squadron commander

to this guy’s house the day we moved his things,

and after the packing we were going to see about

getting his truck shipped. So, [this pickup] truck

was literally full of a couple feet of ash. We had

to dig it out. It was on a street that had been

plowed by the snow plows. So, we had to dig it

out from where the ash had been piled up

around the sides of it. Spent about an hour just

digging the truck out, and then it wouldn’t start.

So, we had the government vehicle, the truck

from Cope Thunder, and we were trying to do

[jumper] cables and everything. It would start

up and then it wouldn’t work, so finally what we

decided to do is push the thing. So, here we had

this guy’s brand-new truck and because we are

on the back roads of the housing area at Clark it

was like being in the mid-west in a snow storm,

in terms of the conditions, it was slippery. The

cars would just slide around. So, we decided

we would try to turn this thing around and just

push it back to civilization where we could get a

new battery or just ship it with the battery that

didn’t work. It was the squadron commander

and me trying to get this guy’s truck out, and we

worked for like three hours and finally we got it

dug out and turned around, and my job was to

push this thing. I said I didn’t want to drive the

truck and he said he would take responsibility

for driving the truck to be pushed and you be the

pusher. OK, so it took us about half an hour to

push this thing, just imagine in the ice or snowy

weather where it is slippery. I’m taking this

giant government truck and literally banging or

ramming it into the pickup and then it would

coast and I’d have to come up behind him and

ram again. I’d try as hard as I could to just come

up slowly to him and just push it, but in those

conditions. Just things like that that you were

doing in those conditions were so surreal. You’d

never do that in the real world, you’d leave it

and call a tow truck to tow it. It was survival

instincts but we also wanted to help people and

we had gotten to the point where we just had to

do the best we could under the conditions. And

86

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Shovel first - then

pack!

* A common occurrence when ash blew under the hood and piled up on the bat -

tery. Eventually, the battery would short out and be ruined.
so his conditions were that he got a truck that

was a little bit banged up in the back, but he got

his truck back.”26

Evacuated Ash Warriors were given a tollfree number to call to tell the Air Force what

they wanted done with POVs they left at Clark.

Essentially, three options were available. They

could abandon the vehicle and claim its value to

an insurance company or the government, or

they could have the vehicle shipped to them, or

they could have someone at Clark sell it for

them. The last option required approval of the

government of the Philippines. On July 19, they

approved a US request that each service member

be allowed to sell one vehicle to local nationals.

The agreement was a good deal for all parties.

The Ash Warriors were able to sell a car without

making an insurance claim, which was good fortune for those who had insured their vehicles

with local companies. Many local insurance

companies closed their doors after the eruption

and never reopened. Local Filipinos normally

could not buy American cars from the service

people, so the cars sold very quickly to an eager

market.

At Subic Bay and Cubi Point, the two Navy

bases were clogged with abandoned cars as well.

At Clark, unwanted or ruined vehicles were not

shipped so that money and time would not be

spent on low-value POVs. However, at the Navy

bases, the policy was to ship them all, no matter

the condition, to clear the roads and parking

areas so clean-up could commence.27 An evacuee at the Navy base, Air Force Lt Col Skip

Vanorne, was selected to dispose of the vehicles.

His qualification to do the job was simple. He

wrote, “I got picked because I was still there.

[Maj] Rob Parker and I were it, with only a couple of other folks still there.

“Now, what did we have to start? First, as

everybody was leaving, they checked out with

their Shirt or rep.* They gave us power of attorney to ship their car, the keys, the car’s location,

and addresses and phone numbers. The only

other thing we had was about three thousand

cars scattered over two bases, covered in ash,

that had been parked for two weeks or more.

The Subic commander was getting upset about

our vehicle littering, and wanted them moved.

We needed to clear the decks of cars, and in two

weeks the American Condor† was coming, and

we were challenged with putting a thousand

cars on it while it was docked for a week. We

were off to the races.

“The planning started by first figuring

where we could prep and park that many cars.

Clearly, we had to have almost all of them ready

by the time the ship arrived. The only place big

enough was the airfield at Cubi, so we got permission to use part of the taxiway and ramp

space on the north side of the field. It wasn’t

much, but it had a fire hydrant that we could tap

into for cleaning cars. We commandeered the

vehicle ramps from the vehicle shipping/inspection station there at Subic, and had them moved

to the taxiway. We added a fire hose for the

hydrant, several tent shelters, power, vacuums,

and lots of boxes and customs forms. Next, we

used the contracting officer to start hiring drivers, cleaners, and boxers, and oh yeah, locksmiths.

“Our plan . . . was to spend the first week

moving cars over to Cubi, and then the next two

weeks (the one before the Condor arrived, and

the one while it was there) cleaning/processing

and loading, while the final effort continued,

right up until the boat left. That last week, there

were three separate actions taking place: finding

cars and driving them to Cubi; cleaning and processing; and driving them back to Subic and

loading them on the boat.

“So first we had to get cars over to the

ramp [at Cubi Point]. Logistically, that simply

meant taking a key from one of a thousand

envelopes (note that that number is much less

than the cars we had), finding the car somewhere on Subic, or maybe even Cubi (hoping the

last known position was still correct), cleaning

off enough ash to drive it, and move it to the

ramp area. We had gotten the Clark SPs‡ to send

us a complete listing of vehicles registered at

Clark, with owners names, and license plate

numbers. That helped a lot when it came time

to ship that car, and the owner had failed to

leave us any information – or keys. We quickly

decided to take two teams, each with half the

87

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

* Slang for a squadron First Sergeant, a "first shirt."

† A ship designed to carry vehicles.

‡ Security Police.

Every effort was

aimed at one

goal: pack out

before the rains

came, even if it

meant working

in the dark!
88

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

envelopes, and a copy of the SP vehicle listings,

and started driving around the base. We’d pick

a vehicle, check the listing, [and] look for [its]

envelope. If we found a match, one of our hired

drivers in the back of the pickup truck would

drive it over to Cubi. We kept a shuttle going

that way while we picked the low hanging fruit.

It didn’t take long before we got down to no keys

and a car, or a car and no keys. And in some

cases, no car or keys. A couple of folks got a start

on a second career [car theft] that week. We

hired a couple of locksmiths, and trained two

individuals in skills that they could use if they

left the military to [become] car thieves. They

got quite good at breaking into

vehicles using slim jims. Then

the locksmith would actually

make a key for the car for us,

and we’d drive it over to Cubi.

Did I say drive? Many times it

took a jump start or other

minor maintenance to get

them running. Remember, by

this time some of these vehicles hadn’t been started in

t h ree weeks, and the last I

dealt with would be another

three weeks, six in all.

“And what happened

when we had a key, and specific directions to where they

had last parked the car, and it

wasn’t there? It turns out that the good Navy

Captain Commanding Officer was getting more

and more upset with our Air Force remote parking lot, that he started having some vehicles

towed to clear away certain areas. And they didn’t tell us where they put them. Lots of fun!

“The operation at Cubi was shaped like an

upside down U. First stop was the hydrant and

ramps. All the remaining ash was hosed off. No

small garden hose for us, it was a manly operation. The three-inch fire hose made short work

of any ash still on the car. It also made short

work of a couple of paint jobs, too. A couple

small paint peels got a lot larger when that water

hit them. We were initially told that there could

be no ash, dirt, debris, or other animal or vegetable products on the car prior to shipment. We

reminded the inspector that the ash had been

heated to something in the area of molten rock at

one point, and we didn’t think there would be

any living anything still on the car after [going]

through all of that. He finally agreed when he

saw that given all the ash blowing around, the

cars would never stay clean

anyway, and we were actually

doing a pretty good job of

removing all of the ash anyway.

“A short drive up the hill

began the emptying pro c e s s .

When you ship a car, you can’t

ship anything in it, so all personal belongings had to be

removed, labeled, boxed, and

prepared for shipment, themselves. We found everything

that was left behind. Many

folks had taken their prized

possessions, expecting to

return to Clark in a week or

two. Much of what we boxed

up was left-over clothes, car items, blankets, and

the like. We found handguns and rifles, stereos,

you name it. The most memorable, was a big

family van. In the back was a large, cedar, hope

chest, filled with wedding pictures, diplomas,

family albums, and more. This one stood out

because it was a USAF Academy grad,* and it

had in it his football pictures, taken with the Air

Force coach, and his saber.

† The chest was literally packed with all those irreplaceable items

from their life, and they had to leave it behind,

with no knowledge of whether they would ever

see it again. As such, we made a special effort to

make sure theirs and everyone else’s stuff was

carefully packed, and that it all made it from the

car to a sealed box.

“Once the car was empty, it was moved to

the cleaning station, where the inside was

cleaned of all dirt/ash/trash. Starting back down

the hill, was the processing station. With whatever information we had, we filled out the forms,

and processed it, inspecting damage and all.

Once finished there, the car was driven down

the hill, to the bottom of the taxiway, and parked

ready to ship.

At first it was take

everything I could find

keys for, then it was

those I could make keys

for, then it was almost

what I could push

Lahars that

crashed across the

base exchange

parking lot moved

entire rows of cars

into each other.

* As was Vanorne.

† Officer's sword. A treasured symbol of an officer's commission.
“Simple, right. All done in July, on a ramp

covered in ash, blowing most of the time. It

actually was a pretty smooth operation. When it

was all over, we put just over 1,000 cars on the

boat. We pushed a couple, but they got on the

boat, and off Subic.

“All the cars went to a West Coast receiving location. The plan was that by the time of

arrival, the PCS* orders for owners would have

been worked, and the manifest lists were

matched to the orders, and then the cars moved

on. And if I remember right, we actually put one

of our folks on the Condor to hand-carry the

manifest to the States.

“As far as the cars I left

behind, the transportation officer that finally came our way

took over [so that I could return

to Clark to] close the 1st Test

Squadron.† They moved the

ramps back to the real base

inspection/shipment area, and

worked what was left behind.

More orderly I was told, but

probably not near as much fun.

“How did I know which

ones to ship? I didn’t, and

actually didn’t care. At first it was take everything I could find keys for, then it was those I

could make keys for, then it was almost what I

could push. We pushed a Pinto [onto the

Condor] that should have been pushed overboard. It had the bottom of the radiator torn out

of it, and would overheat in a short drive. And

it had a spray can paint job that looked hideous.

But it was somebody’s car, maybe an airman’s

that had spent his last buck on it, and he had the

same right to get his car back as the guy with the

Mustang. There was no way for us to know if

these were intended to be left behind, so since

we had no instructions for the ones we moved, it

was assumed that they wanted them. I seem to

remember a couple that we were asked to dispose of or sell if we could, but those got left for

someone else to deal with.

“Now a couple of more stories. [Filipino]

drivers were easy to come by, if you didn’t check

to see if the ink was dry on their driver’s licenses. When the call went out to hire them, they

came in large numbers. All [who wanted the

job] were excellent drivers, with much experience. That’s what they told us, anyway. I think

we only ruined one clutch, on an RX-7. It was

slipping so badly when they told me about it, we

almost had to push it to the boat from Cubi. The

Filipino driver said he didn't know what to

make of it!? And you should have seen them lining up to move and drive the Ford Mustang with

the 5.0 liter engine. I couldn't stand the chance

of destroying that car, so naturally I had to drive

it. But the best story was the car that left the processing station to be parked at the bottom of the

hill. Someone noticed that the car was barely

moving, about a hundred yards from the processing station. I ran over to it, able to keep up

with it at a slow walk. I tapped on the window

(closed tight, and tinted as dark as night). The

electric window slides down, and inside the

stereo is loud enough to be

h e a rd at Clark, the A/C is

going full blast, and the driver,

hands at 10 and 2 on the

wheel, is [coasting] down the

hill, at all of 1/2 a knot, oblivious to the fact the engine has

died. We had a long laugh

about that one later that night.

“And what of the

Filipino packers and workers?

Did they try to steal anything?

Mostly not, but a few tried.

One of our customs inspectors

was an SP, topping out at about 6’2” and 220. At

the end of every day, he patted down all the

workers before they got on the bus to be driven

back to the Subic main gate. About the most we

ever found was a cassette tape. It got to be a joke

with [the Filipinos] after a while.

“And I almost fired the contracting officer

that was working for us. Seems he decided to

hire a secretary to help him with the Forms 9

and such . . . hired to keep up with some of his

contracting stuff, next thing we knew she was

living with him in the Q. It must be nice when

you can get the AF to pay for a live-in! We saw

it all, it seems.

“And one about my drive back up to Clark

the first time. There was an area that was about

a foot deep in water that we had to drive through

to get back. Enterprising Filipinos . . . were lined

up at the shallow end, ready to guide you

through the waters like Moses at the Red Sea.

They told you to shut down your engine, they

plugged the tail pipe with a rag, and started

pushing you through. You steered, or ruddered,

as you went, with a lead dog walking the road so

you wouldn’t wind up in a ditch. Half way into

the deep stuff, water was coming into every hole

in the car, some like little geysers in the floor

board. Once through the lake, they unplugged

the tail pipe, cleaned out some of the water, took

most of my money, I fired that Muther up, and

they bid me bon voyage.”28

89

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

At the end of the day the

AAFES cash register was

$700,000 fatter, and many

Ash Warriors were smiling

* Permanent change of station.

† Vanorne had been assigned to Clark from Kadena Air Base, Japan,

only a month earlier to take command of the squadron. His house -

hold goods were delivered to his house at Clark two days before the

evacuation. He and his wife never unpacked the goods; they only

opened enough boxes to retrieve things they needed to evacuate.
90

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Many officers at Clark carried car and

household goods insurance with a company in

the United States that catered to military officers. The company sent a team of adjustors to

Clark who settled many claims on-the-spot. Of

course, many vehicles, personal and government, were damaged beyond repair. Even those

that were operable were badly damaged by the

ash. It filled window channels and every other

place the water took it. Those who drove their

POVs in the ash soon discovered that the abrasive stuff quickly wore out brakes and clogged

radiators as well as air and oil filters. It was

impossible to clean it off painted surfaces without damaging the finish, and after a few weeks it

was unusual to see a vehicle that did not have

some rust damage.

FIRE SALES

The Army and Air Force Exchange Service

(AAFES) decided that it was cheaper to sell

everything in the base exchange rather than pack

and move the entire store’s inventory. Although

the large store was slightly damaged, almost all

the inventory in the store and its warehouse was

intact. On July 20, the doors to the BX opened

for the first time in a month, and 200 Ash

Wa rriors entered the store where every t h i n g

inside was on sale at 25 percent of the marked

price. Strict rules were in effect. The first 200 to

enter the store were all active duty members of

the mission essential force; each was selected by

a lottery held the previous day. The lottery was

held so that shift workers, especially the security police, would have an equal opportunity to

shop. As soon as the first 200 entered the doors,

a very long line formed as others waited his or

her turn. As each smiling shopper left, with

shopping carts stacked high, another was

allowed in. Each shopper was only allowed to

buy one of each high-value item: stereo, television, VCR, etc. By the end of the day, when

some of the senior officers entered the BX, the

place looked like a swarm of locusts had inundated it. At the end of the day the AAFES cash

register was $700,000 fatter, and many Ash

Warriors were smiling.29

At the same time, Lt Col Doug Sobin, the

morale, welfare and re c reation (MWR) commander, who knew a good deal when he saw it,

arranged a similar sale. He and his people

cleared a large area on the first floor of the 3d

Combat Support Group headquarters building

then filled it with recreation gear from Clark,

Camp John Hay, and Wallace Air Station. For

the next six weeks they sold off the recreation

supplies: golf clubs and balls, scuba gear, saddles, sports clothing, fishing poles, bowling

balls, etc. For the first two weeks everything in

the makeshift store was 25 percent off. The second two weeks everything was 50 percent off,

and the last two weeks it was 75 percent off.

Sobin reasoned that it would be more cost effective to sell the goods, even at reduced prices,

than to attempt to redistribute the items to other

Air Force bases. To redistribute the goods, he

would have had to determine where the items

were needed, pay to have the items packaged

and shipped and risk loss and damage in transit.

The store quickly became a popular stop for

tired, dirty Ash Warriors coming off duty. The

sale became a source of entertainment as troops

teased each other with comments such as,

“You’d better buy it this week, or it’ll be gone

before it goes down another 25 percent!” The

sale took in $381,000.30

WHERE IS EVERYBODY?

Lt Col Mike Jordan had taken command of

the 3d Mission Support Squadron (MSSQ) from

Jim White in the Dau alternate command post

amidst Pinatubo’s eruptions. White, who had

ended his tour, was returning to the United

States, and Jordan recalled, “it was quick and

dirty.” A primary function of the MSSQ was to

manage the tracking of all military and civilian

employees assigned to Clark. When Jordan took

command, most people were in the chaos at

Subic Bay where the first sergeants and

squadron commanders labored to find out where

their troops and families were sheltered. For the

next four months, the task of maintaining an

accurate count, by name, of everyone’s location

Personnel took

some much need -

ed rest and relax -

ation at the base

pool.
was an enormous task. The main personnel

tracking system was maintained on a computer,

the Advanced Personnel Data System (PDS), but

the PDS suffered the same fate as most computer systems on base. It was ruined by a combination of water, mud/ash, mildew, and tropical

heat. Jordan and his troops had not “the time or

the talent to fix it.” As an alternative, they built

a data base on a personal computer using a roster which had been produced the day of the

evacuation, June 10. They then sent each unit its

section of the roster, and the unit commanders

would reply with any changes in manning. The

ultimate “head count” became the only way to

track people. All other personnel management

actions were dictated by this data base which

became known as the Mission Essential List. It

became widely known as their “Bible” and without it they surely would have failed.31 As the

base gradually closed, fewer Ash Warriors were

needed, so they were given assignments to other

bases. A team of assignment experts traveled to

Clark from the AF Military Personnel Center, the

PACAF assignments office, and MAC. They provided assignments on-the-spot with orders* to go

with them. Some orders were handwritten, but

nearly all Ash Warriors received their assignment of choice. Mikkelson, the mounted horse

patrolman, recalled being amazed that it only

took less than a minute for him to be given his

first choice.32

FUN

Few things are more important than mail

to a service member who is serving overseas.

Clark’s postal workers, Detachment 3, 6005th Air

Postal Squadron, commanded by Maj Rick S.

Huhn, had evacuated to Subic Bay but were

called back to Clark as soon as some of the dust

settled. They used the MSSQ’s mission essential

list and set up new mail boxes for everyone in a

small post office that was relatively undamaged.

However, by the time mail started coming in,

they were immediately overwhelmed with the

backlog that had been building. By the time the

postmen received all the mail that had been

waiting to get to Clark they were faced with an

avalanche of 300,000 pounds.33 They put out a

call for volunteers, and dozens of Ash Warriors

trooped to the sorting room during off-duty

hours to sort mail. They cross-checked every

piece of mail against the mission essential list. If

the piece was addressed to someone still at

Clark, it went to the person’s post office box. If

not it went back to the United States. Outgoing

mail became very important, and usually long

lines snaked through the post office lobby as

people waited to mail box after box of personal

items back to the States. Although there were

15,000 fewer people at Clark, the outgoing mail

volume was tripled. There were also 70,000

pounds of Air Force, official mail to sort as well.

Maj Candy Shaefer, chief of information management, and her first sergeant, Danny Somers,

arranged a unique system to get light into their

powerless building so they could sort the backlog. They rigged mirrors in a way that reflected

outside light through the windows so they could

get the job done.34

Everyone looked for ways to get out of the

ash. Base leaders organized three-day recreational tours to Wallace Air Station which had

suffered very little ash fall. Wallace was clean,

green, and had access to beaches on the South

China Sea. Colonel Grime, the wing commander, directed that no officer could take one of

these tours until every enlisted member who

wanted to go had a chance to go. During the

month of July, nearly half of the mission essential team took advantage of these tours.

Transportation to and from the site, lodging, and

meals were free.34

After MSgt Judy Sanders re s t o red the

Airmen’s club, she went to work on a restaurant

at the former golf course dining room. The

place, named Jose’s, opened in July. It was open

to all ranks for lunch, and then became an officers’ club after 5:00 p.m. Jose’s became a usual

place for Ash Warrior officers to gather for dinner, a cold San Miguel beer, and a game of crud.†

Some accused the Ash Warrior force of

having more fun than they were actually having.

A major US newspaper ran an article criticizing

the base for using earthmoving equipment to

clear the golf course while the ru n w a y s

remained buried in ash. However, the earthmovers that were on the golf course were clearing ash and mud from the drainage that ran

through the middle of the course. It was the

same drainage that had turned into a rampaging

river that slammed through the commissary area

on Black Saturday. The golf course was never

cleared although some of the former caddies

shoveled off a few of the greens in an effort to

entice business back to the course.36 A few diehards, General Studer among them, played the

“course” in combat boots and shorts, hitting

their shots from squares of carpet laid in the ash.

91

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

* Assignment orders are vital. Without them an airman can accomplish none of

the tasks attendant to a move: claim household goods, move his family, ship or

claim his car, etc.

† Crud is played on a pool table. Only two balls are used, a cue ball and a colored

object ball. A player rolls the cue ball by hand with the goal of either sinking the

object ball or keeping the object ball in motion. Once he has rolled the cue ball

and it contacts the object ball, his opponent then picks up the cue ball and takes

his turn at either sinking the object ball or, failing that, hitting it so that it stays

in motion. If a player fails to keep the object ball in motion he loses a "life."

When a player loses three "lifes," he is eliminated from the match. The game is

typically played by two teams of any number players. When one team eliminates

the other team, the game is over. Losers must buy the winners a beverage of

choice. It is understatement to say the games are spirited. Minor injuries are not

uncommon as players must run constantly around the table to retrieve the cue

ball.
92

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

PASSING GAS

Over four million gallons of jet and vehicle

fuel were on the base, and most of it was stored

in a large “tank farm” on the southwest side of

the base. The effort presented some unique challenges. While the inventory of fuels had been

drawn down as part of an earlier conversion

from JP-4 to JP-8,* over three million gallons of

jet fuel were on hand. Another million plus gallons of motor gasoline (MOGAS) and diesel fuel

were also at Clark. The large storage tanks and

on-base fuel lines survived the eruption and

many earthquakes. However, the pipeline

between Clark and Subic was washed away at

two river crossings. Lahars had washed through

the line. The initial plan was to sell the fuel

directly from the tanks to the Philippine government.37

However, by the first of October, Mount

Pinatubo was still spewing ash and lahars were

slamming down the watersheds. The ash was

hundreds of feet thick near the mountain, and it

was obvious that lahars might reach the tanks

before it could be sold and moved.† If that happened, the tanks would surely rupture and the

million gallons of jet fuel, MOGAS, and diesel

might flow right through the middle of Clark and

then into Angeles City. Some suggested that the

fuel should be burned in the tanks. However,

fuels experts quickly snuffed out that idea. They

predicted that, even if those selected to ignite

the fuel itself survived, the base and Angeles

might be inundated with burning fuel.38

The logical choice was to truck the fuel to

Subic Bay where it could be turned over to the

N a v y. Clark’s fuels people, who had done

yeomen’s work keeping generators fueled during

the frustrating efforts to re-establish water pressure, found and hired local contractors. Soon,

fourteen 10,000-, 8,000-, and 5,000-gallon trucks

were hauling fuel to Subic. With most of the

river bridges out, this was a very difficult and

dangerous task. By mid October, however, over

two million gallons of jet fuel and MOGAS were

transferred. They would have moved more, but

some of the tank-bottom fuel was inaccessible

because mud flows had already covered the

tank-bottom drains.39

FINAL TALLY

At its peak, the Ash Warriors, Clark’s mission essential force, numbered some 2,400 people. Nearly half were security forces charged

with protecting American lives and property.

The remainder devoted themselves to saving the

personal possessions of their comrades and the

military equipment of their nation. The magnificent effort of these selfless men and women,

serving in nearly impossible conditions, cannot

be overstated. On June 16, 1991 a small band of

them returned to the Air Force’s largest installation outside the continental United States; 164

days later they left after saving the following.

• The lives of over 17,000 American men,

women, and children

• Personal possessions in 3,099 homes

and 1,903 dormitory rooms

• 273 truck loads of munitions weighing

3,250 tons

• Over 2 million gallons of jet fuel, diesel

and gasoline

• Nearly 1,500 40-foot tractor-trailer loads

of equipment

* A world-wide USAF conversion. JP-8 is less volatile than JP-4; therefore, it is safer

to handle and less dangerous in crashes.

† A lahar, estimated at 25 feet high and 200 feet wide, swept through the south -

west edge of the base the first week in September. (Source: 3d TFW SITREP,

090945Z Sep 91) 
NOTES TO CHAPTER 8

1 Interview, TSgt Renee L. Longstreet with author, January 8, 1999,

audio tape at HQ USAF/HO, Bolling AFB, DC [hereafter cited as

Longstreet interview].

2 Longstreet interview.

3 Philippine Flyer, Magmatic Daily New Tremblor [sic], No 5, July 30,

1991.

4 Philippine Flyer, The Last Days Chronicle No. 8, August 2, 1991, p 1.

5 Ibid., The Last Days Chronicle No. 8, August 2, 1991, p 1.

6 Longstreet interview; Interview, Capt. Erin C. Gannon with author,

January 6, 1999, audio tape at HQ USAF/HO, Bolling AFB, DC [hereafter

cited as Gannon interview].

7 Longstreet interview.

8 Philippine Flyer, Magmatic Daily News Tremblor [sic], No. 14, July 16,

1991, "Dustbusters of the Day,” p 1.

9 Gannon interview.

10 Grime interview 1992.

11 Longstreet interview.

12 Ibid.

13 Casey interview.

14 Message, 3 TFW SITREP, 290900Z Jul 91.

15 Grime interview 1992.

16 Clark AB Closure Report, p 37 (in Appendix 1).

17 Faulhaber, Col. Kenneth B., Air Force Journal of Logistics, "Clark Air

Base Versus Mount Pinatubo,” Fall 1992, p 12 [hereafter cited as Faul -

haber].

18 Letter, Col. Alvin C. Schweizer, II to author, June 25, 1995.

19 Message, 3 TFW SITREP, 220900Z Jul 91.

20 Message, 3 TFW SITREP, 020945Z Sep 91; message, 3 TFW SITREP,

230845Z Sep 91.

21 Clark AB Closure Report, Hospital, November 26, 1991, p 27.

22 Philippine Flyer, The Last Days Chronicle No. 7, August 1, 1991, p 1.

23 Faulhaber, p 12.

24 Letter, Col Steven R. Miller to author, July 10, 1996.

25 Briefing, 3d Supply Squadron to 3 TFW commander, November 1,

1991.

26 Gannon interview.

27 Clark AB Closure Report, p 37.

28 Letter, Lt Col Ronald W. Vanorne to author, January 20, 1999.

29 Philippine Flyer, Magmatic Daily New Tremblor [sic], No. 17, July 22,

1991, ”How about that sale?” p 1.

30 Clark AB Closure Report, p 32.

31 Ibid., p 31

32 Mikkelson interview.

33 Clark AB Closure Report, p 34.

34 Philippine Flyer, Magmatic Daily News Tremblor [sic] No. 4, July 3,

1991, p 1.

35 Briefing, 3 MWR squadron to 3 TFW commander, slide neither dated

nor numbered, PACAF Historian's Office, Hickam AFB, Hawaii.

36 Grime interview 1992.

37 Faulhaber, p 12.

38 Ibid., p 13.

39 Ibid.

93

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
As mentioned earlier,

* US negotiators and politicians were unwilling to pay what the

government of the Philippines was asking for Clark and the Navy bases even before Pinatubo

erupted. Once both suffered millions of dollars in damage, the United States was even more

reluctant. Also, the volcanologists were giving no indications that the volcano would soon

cease its activity. As long as the mountain continued to erupt, the danger of airborne ash to

aviation was obvious. Even if the United States were to restore Clark to operational status the

airspace was useless for training, and the ash, lahars, and pyroclastic flows had inundated the

Cope Thunder ranges in Crow Valley.

Another factor that made an agreement seem unlikely was the opening of negotiations

with the government of Singapore. In fact their government invited the United States to establish a military presence there. They offered buildings for Air Force squadrons, housing, and,

most importantly, airspace for training flights. To the Navy they offered an alternative deepwater port to replace Subic Bay.

General Adams, the PACAF commander, recalled that the Philippines thought they had

an undeniable position. In his word, they thought, “[if the Americans leave the Philippines]

it will be the end of your presence in Southeast Asia, that’s why you must stay here, and you

must be willing to pay any price we demand.” Clearly, the introduction of the Singapore solution, when added to the Pinatubo disaster, blew the Philippines’ position out of the water.

Adams said, “It was an interesting political fallout.”1

Ambassador Richard Armitage and his team presented a final offer at the eighth and final

visit of the US delegation in July. An agreement in principle, reflected in a joint statement

issued on July 17, was reached. Its major provisions were as follows:

• The Philippines accepted a ten-year duration for operations at the Subic Bay Navy

bases.

• The United States agreed to turn over Clark Air Base by September 1992.

• The Philippines accepted $203 million in security assistance monies along with other

compensations that boosted the total to $362.8 million.

• A continuation of other non-defense initiatives.2

Following this announcement the United States sat back and watched as Filipino politicians argued in their Senate whether to ratify the negotiators’ agreement. Some US senators

formed a small coalition that saw no future for the United States in the Philippines, and they

publicly ridiculed Philippine negotiator Manglapus for accepting less than he had boasted he

was sure to get. However, the United States carefully avoided any official comments beyond

that which they had agreed to in the July 17 announcement.

President Corazon C. Aquino’s administration lobbied vigorously for ratification, but

their efforts fell short. In September, the Philippines Senate rejected the agreement outright.

The Senate “was a tough audience, consisting in large part of people who suffered under the

95

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Chapter 9 TURN OUT THE LIGHTS

* Chapter 1 contains a discussion of the Philippine bases negotiations.

US airmen raised the

American flag over Clark

AB for the last time.
96

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

rule of Ferdinand Marcos, a dictator seen by

many in the Philippines as having been propped

up by the United States solely for the sake of military bases.”3

Even though the Senate rejected the agreement, few Filipinos doubted that the United

States would actually abandon the bases under

any circumstances. Citizens across the archipelago wanted the bases to stay, and Aquino threatened to hold a national referendum to set aside

the Senate’s rejection. As Armitage said, “In a

very real sense, therefore, Filipino negotiators

and senators probably felt quite secure in believing that somehow the United States would find

a way to stay, to forgive their

u n ruly behavior, to shower

them with gifts, and, in general, to patch things up.”4

It never happened. A

joint announcement was made,

after the Senate rejected the

treaty, that all US bases would

close by late 1992. Having

seen the political handwriting

on the wall, the 3 TFW staff

had already set in motion a

planning effort to be out of

Clark as soon as possible. The

first planning effort indicated

that the base could be closed

by March of 1992.

Some significant changes

in leadership at Clark occurred as the Ash

Warriors struggled in difficult circumstances.

On July 6, 1991, Col John Murphy (Whopper),*

who had planned behind the scenes for an evacuation, proudly stood on the ash-covered parade

field and relinquished his command of the 3d

Combat Support Group to Col Bill Dassler

(Gladiator). Dassler, in turn, relinquished command of the 3d Security Police Group to his

deputy Col Art Corwin (Pioneer). The ceremony,

described in the Philippine Flyer, as the “Mother

of all change of command ceremonies,” featured

fire trucks shooting streams of water into the air,

and the mounted horse patrol carrying the

American and command flags across the ash. A

month later, on August 8, 1991, Col Jeffrey R.

Grime (Eagle)† relinquished command of the 3d

Tactical Fighter Wing, Clark’s host unit, to Col

B ruce M. Freeman (Hunter), who had been

General Studer’s Thirteenth Air Force vice commander and ramrod of the Joint Task Force-Fiery

Vigil staff.

When the closure announcement was

made on August 16, the Air Force had over a

year to withdraw from Clark. Planners there

estimated they could get everything out by

March; however, Freeman and his officers had

other thoughts. The enormous base had a generous supply of equipment that Freeman felt was

not worth shipping: tables, chairs, desks, filing

cabinets, beds, dressers, etc. Nearly 100,000

such items were on the base. If they did not ship

such items, the withdrawal could be shortened

by half, and those items comprised less than 15

percent of the value of the base inventory. To the

Ash Warriors it seemed unreasonable to work an

extra three months threatened by lahars and eating ash for so little return. Freeman started an

effort to have the items declared as excess to US

defense needs so they could be given to the

Philippine Air Force, a declaration that could be

made only by the US Congress. Staff officers at

PACAF and the Pentagon, in

what Freeman described as a

“herculean effort,” pushed the

initiative through the

D e p a rtment of Defense and

C o n g re s s .5 A p p roval was

granted in mid October, and

the turnover of excess articles

started immediately.

6 Clark

planners, who had alre a d y

planned for such a conting e n c y, produced a modified

plan that would close the base

in early December. Equipment

movement was progressing so

well, however, the date was

again moved forward to the

Tuesday before Thanksgiving.7

The Ash Wa rriors focused

their efforts on a common goal – Thanksgiving

dinner with their families. Home, food, clean

linens and laughing children danced in their

heads.

The 1947 Military Bases Agre e m e n t

between the United States and the government

of the Philippines (GOP) stated that the GOP

owned all permanent structures and those structures would revert to the GOP [if the United

States ever left the bases]. The agreement also

qualified the definitions of non-removable and

removable property. Finally, the agreement gave

the GOP the right of first refusal for all removable property declared excess to US defense

needs.8

The five objectives of the drawdown were

to: provide an orderly, legal and dignified withdrawal; detail essential time phased actions

required to terminate USAF activities; provide

for the turnover of assets on the non-removable

property listing; identify and remove all nonexcess removable property; and transfer excess

removable property to the GOP. The critical factor in developing the drawdown plan centered

...Filipino negotiators and

senators probably felt

quite secure in believing

that somehow the Unit -

ed States would find a

way to stay

* Murphy went on to Hickam Air Force Base, Hawaii, to command the Army and

Air Force Exchange Service in the Pacific.

† Grime went on to become the Inspector General of PACAF and was promoted

to Brigadier General the following year.
around minimizing the time involved. This was

due to the risk to personnel and equipment from

continued encroachment of volcanic hazards on

the Clark community and the potential for security and labor relations problems as the US withdrawal progressed. Likewise, maintenance of

basic services such as water and power was

becoming increasingly difficult to maintain.9

To meet these objectives and critical planning factors, the closure plan was based on a

120-day drawdown with a start date of August 1,

1991. All units would phase out in less than 120

days and all facilities and excess equipment

would be turned over to the GOP within the

same period.10

The base was sectore d

into six general geographic

"packages” so that one package

turned over to the GOP every

two weeks starting mid

September 1991. All facilities

in a given package would

transfer on that date except

those critical to continued US

conduct of operations during

the withdrawal.11

The Philippine Air

Force/CABCOM (Clark Air Base Command) was

responsible for security within their packages

after turnover. USAF/DOD security personnel

provided point security only on any mission

essential facilities remaining within a Philippine

Air Force (PAF) controlled area.12

When the turnover plan was approved, the

T h i rteenth Air Force Facilities Drawdown

Programming Plan (PPlan) was developed. The

PPlan’s time-phased actions were developed to

coincide with the turnover of the various packages. Organizations cut back services provided,

removed all non-excess equipment items and

reduced manning requirements as each package

turned over. Also, organizations consolidated

remaining services and personnel into the minimum number of facilities possible. The planned

result was to have the majority of services terminated and all non-excess equipment removed by

mid November.

In determining the status of equipment the

following measures of merit were considered.

Non-excess equipment had to be critical to DOD

needs, accountable, serviceable and had to be

economically viable to remove. Computers,

weapon system spares, munitions, most communications equipment, special purpose vehicles,

high value medical equipment, weapons, and

mobility/chemical warfare defense gear met the

non-excess criteria and were shipped from Clark

Air Base. Excess equipment remaining in place

for transfer to GOP included most office furniture, some powered/non-powered ground support equipment, general purpose vehicles and

general support supplies. All base agencies

made inventories of what they determined to be

excess equipment. These excess defense articles

w e re consolidated and submitted thro u g h

PACAF for the congressional notification

process. The excess defense article list met the

congressional notification period, and the USAF

was authorized to transfer these articles to the

GOP free of charge.13

The 3 TFW transmitted its last situation

report to PACAF on November 18, 1991. It stated that 99 percent of government property had

been shipped and only 20

truckloads remained. The mission essential force, once at a

high of 2,400 was at 517. The

previous week had seen the

l a rgest single reduction in

Clark personnel since the evacuation, including the last of

the USGS volcanologists. The

Philippine Air Force controlled 90 percent of Clark’s

land area.14

The PAF struggled to

maintain control of the base. As US security

forces withdrew sector by sector, looters flooded

into the areas. The PAF responded with gunfire.

During the last week of October, the PA F

encountered an average of 15 intruders per day,

and in nine instances fired a total of 95 warning

shots.15 Colonel Freeman was deeply concerned

that the Ash Warriors would not get off the base

before someone was injured by a stray bullet.

Looters in Hill housing, the first area turned over

to the PAF, stripped the houses of doors, windows, appliances, air conditioners, electrical

wiring, fixtures, toilets, sinks, and plumbing.

Base engineers had to work hard to maintain

water pressure because looters ripped faucets

and sinks out of the houses without regard to the

gushing result.16

The volcano’s aftermath continued to

threaten the Ash Warriors. During periods of

heavy rain, a lahar alert was passed across the

base on the brick network. Everyone was to stay

on high ground. One young airman, whose

curiosity overcame his discipline to follow

orders, went too near a lahar. Suddenly it

expanded and the young man was swept up in

the roiling muck of swiftly flowing ash-mud. He

desperately grabbed a piece of metal fence at the

last second where he held on until his buddies

rescued him. Another security policeman, a

member of the mounted horse patrol, recalled,

“One night when we [were] out on patrol, we

went past where we were supposed to, past the

97

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

The Ash Warriors focused

their efforts on a common

goal – Thanksgiving dinner

with their families
bank of the river, and actually walked out on the

ash. The guy who is riding with me, said ‘Get

out of there!’ because the ash started breaking. I

turned around to get my horse out, [but] the

horse had fallen into the layer of the ash. After

my horse fell through, I was holding his head on

my shoulder. And we are both keeping our

noses up, so we wouldn't drown. [My partner]

ran over to get help, because the fire department

is already in the area. We [got] ropes and stuff

out, and I tied them around the horse. Well, as

we dug the mud away from the horse, more ash

was just coming into the hole. It set a suction so

we can’t pull the horse out. We couldn't dig the

horse out, so we dug a trench to keep the water

away from the hole. The ash was harder than

concrete. We had to use pick axes around the

horse’s legs to chip the ash away. It took four

and a half hours to get the horse out. Towards

the end, when just the horse’s hooves were in the

ash it was still like the horse was cemented into

place. The name of the horse was Butterfly. The

only thing we were hoping for was that it wouldn't start raining, because a flash flood would be

the end of the horse.”17

As Thanksgiving approached, last minute

things were accomplished. November 20 was

the last day to turn in equipment, and the next

day was the last an American could sell a POV

to a Filipino. On Friday, November 22 all the

remaining Ash Warriors moved into Chambers

Hall, the last remaining American billeting location. On November 23, the last mail to be postmarked with Clark’s military zip code (APO)

departed the base. Jose’s, the small golf course

restaurant that had served as the officers‘club,

saw its last crud match on the 24th.18

On November 25, dignitaries started to

arrive. At 1600, General Jimmie V. Adams,

PACAF Commander; his wife, Ouida; Col Pedro

Rivera; Col Vincent Majkowski; Col Olan

Wa l d rop; Maj Scotty Rogers; Capt Roy Joy;

CMSgt Gary Kushner; and MSgt Rita Dzurenda

arrived at Naval Air Station Cubi Point, where

they were met by General Studer and Rear

Admiral Thomas Mercer, the senior naval officer

in the Philippines. Cactus, Clark’s UH-1 helicopters, flew the party to the base’s south helicopter ramp where they were met by Colonel

Freeman.19

The next morning, November 26, 1991, the

American flag was raised over the Clark parade

field where it had flown for nearly 93 years,

interrupted only by the Japanese occupation

during World War II. Over the tens of decades

the base had seen every kind of military experience from cavalry to Phantom jets. Countless

thousands of Army and Air Force service members fondly recall the barns, the beautiful parade

field, magnificent acacia trees, smiling Filipinos,

breath-taking monsoon rains and lifelong friendships. The last generation there has those memories as well, but they most remember of Clark

uncertainty, fear, eruptions, earthquakes, evacuations, lahars, and ash. Nonetheless, they would

have fond memories, too. The Ash Warrior spirit bonded friendships that will never die.

At 7:45 a.m., Frank Wi s n e r, US

Ambassador to the Philippines, arrived at the

south helicopter ramp with his wife, son, and

Mr. and Mrs. Hubbard. They joined General and

Mrs. Adams and other Ash Warriors at the

Airmen’s Club for a brief reception. At this

reception, Lt Col Kevin Collins was promoted to

colonel in a brief cere m o n y. Collins was

“pinned” with the silver eagles which had been

given to his father nearly fifty years earlier by the

people of Baguio. At 8:25 the official party went

to the parade field for the official closure ceremony.

The ceremony started at 8:30. Among the

dignitaries on the reviewing stand were

Ambassador Wisner; General Adams; the

Philippines Secretary of National Defense Davia;

General Studer; Brigadier General Acot, the

Clark Air Base Command commander; and

Colonel Freeman. Across from the reviewing

stand were two honor guard formations which

represented the USAF and the PAF. Rain and

some cleaning had removed most of the ash from

the parade field, and the immaculate airmen

stood in spit-shined boots and freshly laundered

BDUs.

Awards were presented to General Studer,

Colonel Freeman, Colonel Rand, and others.

Nearly 100 members of the press covered the

ceremony and crowded around the presentations taking pictures rapid fire.*

After the personal awards were presented,

the honor guard formations marched into a cor98

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

* Every Ash Warrior received the Joint Meritorious Unit Award.

Visiting dignitary

at flag ceremony.
don in front of the reviewing stand. While Rand

read a brief history of the 3d Tactical Fighter

Wing, three riders from the mounted horse

patrol rode at a slow, deliberate pace through the

cordon with the wing flag as the formation saluted. When the riders reached the center of the

reviewing stand, they wheeled the horses to

present the colors to Freeman. No words were

spoken. Freeman saluted his colors, and the

horses, resplendent in shined tack and Air

F o rce-blue foreleg wrappings, wheeled again

and withdrew the flying colors from the parade

f i e l d .* Rand then read a brief history of

T h i rteenth Air Force, and the process was

repeated with the Thirteenth flag. General

Studer saluted his colors that were presented by

three other mounted horse patrol riders. It was

the last official act for the Air Force’s last mounted horse patrol.†

The final sequence was to take down the

American Flag. An Ash Warrior honor guard

slowly lowered the Stars and Stripes and folded

it into the customary triangle. They then passed

it to SrA Jeffrey Oakly of Baltimore, Maryland.

Oakly cradled the flag in his arms and held the

blue field of white stars against his chest as he

marched slowly to where Wisner, Adams, and

Studer stood in front of the reviewing stand.

The flag was passed from Oakly to Wisner to

Adams and, finally, to Studer. Studer moved a

few steps to the side of the reviewing stand, an

act symbolic of removing the colors from the battlefield, and gave them to SSgt Scott Clark who

carried them from the parade field.‡ The dignitaries left the reviewing stand and the last Ash

Warriors prepared to leave Clark.20

Five buses carried the last 170 Ash

Warriors to Subic Bay where they loaded onto an

Air Force transport, what they called a

“Freedom Bird,” and departed the Philippines

for Andersen Air Force Base, Guam, the new

home of Thirteenth Air Force. Colonel Freeman

boarded a helicopter a minute ahead of General

Studer, and the aircraft departed Clark Air Base

at 1:22 p.m., November 26, 1991.21

Within a week of their arrival at Andersen

Air Force Base, the Thirteenth Air Force staff

was greeted by a devastating typhoon that swept

across Guam.

99

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

* The 3 TFW was reassigned to Eleventh Air Force and moved to Elmendorf Air

Force Base, Alaska. Usually, at a ceremony such as this one, the colors are furled

around the staff and put into a long cover. Freeman would have none of that;

he did not want "anyone rolling up his colors and sticking them in a bag."

(Source: Freeman interview)

† At the end of the ceremony, the riders removed everything from the horses and

loaded the faithful animals onto trailers for transportation to Filipino owners who

had purchased them at auction.

‡ The flag is now on display at the 36th Air Base Wing headquarters, Andersen Air

Force Base, Guam.

NOTES TO CHAPTER 9

1 Adams interview.

2 Armitage interview.

3 Ibid.

4 Ibid.

5 Freeman interview.

6 Message, 3 TFW SITREP, 210300Z Oct 91.

7 Freeman interview.

8 Clark AB Closure Plan, p 17.

9 Ibid.

10 Ibid.

11 Ibid.

12 Ibid., p 18.

14 Ibid.

15 Message, 3 TFW SITREP 181115Z Nov 91.

16 Message, 3 TFW SITREP, 280530Z Nov 91.

17 Freeman interview.

18 Mikkelson interview.

19 Calendar, Clark Air Base Withdrawal/Closure, November 5, 1991,

PACAF/HO, Hickam AFB, Hawaii.

20 Clark Air Base Final Departure Plan (CABFDP), Proposed Itinerary 6,

November 21, 1991.

21 Description of the closure ceremony was extracted from the Free -

man interview.
Perhaps it is human nature to deny impending doom and gloom. One says, “that hurricane, as the many before it, will miss my house.” Then, in an effort to validate our nature to

deny, we make no plans. Perhaps some are proponents of the “ignorance is bliss,” school.

Perhaps our hearts control our good sense.

Certainly, Mount Pinatubo seemed innocuous when viewed in comparison to Mount

Arayat. Arayat, which majestically rises from the rice paddies 10 miles east of Clark Air Base,

looked like a real volcano. It was the classic cone-shaped mountain whose appearance would

lead even the most casual observer to the conclusion that it had once produced violent eruptions. However, Pinatubo to the west was nothing more than another big, green hill among

other big, green hills. Scientists knew Pinatubo was a volcano, but there are many volcanoes

along the Philippine archipelago similar to Pinatubo. Mostly they are quiet, and Pinatubo had

not erupted for centuries. Former residents of Clark Air Base, who were interviewed for this

book, universally proclaimed confusion when they first saw the steam which emitted from

cracks in the far side of Pinatubo. Without exception, their reaction was “Volcano? What volcano?”

The Call for Assistance

Fortunately for the Clark residents, senior base officials, despite their skepticism, did

not delay in securing the services of experts from the US Geological Survey. Just as fortunate,

USGS scientists rushed to the scene and were evaluating the mountain only three weeks after

the steam started. Bureaucracies are notoriously and ponderously slow to react, however,

such was not the case at Clark and the USGS. They reacted quickly even though the mountain was at a relatively low level of activity when the call went out for help. There is no way

to assess how much the disaster at Clark and Subic Bay might have been magnified if the

arrival of the USGS team had been delayed by only a few weeks. The mountain erupted less

than two months after they arrived.

Despite their success, the volcanologists are the first to admit that predicting an eruption

is an inexact science. Nonetheless, they were spot-on with Pinatubo; 250,000 Filipinos, who

lived close to the mountain, moved away from the mountain in the week before it blew.

Fifteen thousand Americans left Clark 48 hours before the first “small” eruption and five days

before the volcano destroyed itself in blasts that made it the second largest of the twentieth

century.

General Adams, General Studer, and Colonel Grime praised the USGS-PHIVOLCS team

as heroes of the effort in interviews after the US flag was taken down at Clark. General Adams

said, “Thank God they were a lot more accurate than any of us thought they could be.”1

Colonel Grime praised the team by saying, “at the end, they are heroes in my mind. [I] couldn’t have asked for guys with more guts, guys more willing to work the problem.”2

101

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Chapter 10 A DISASTER IS A DISASTER

Subic Bay also suffered heavy ashfall

and typhoon rain.
Information Control

Former Clark residents may argue forever

the questions of how much they knew about the

volcano and how well the military bases at Clark

and Subic Bay were pre p a red to evacuate.

Senior officials at Clark were divided in their

approach. Some wanted to make mass public

service announcements parallel to the scientists’

discoveries and openly plan for a mass evacuation. However, both the Thirteenth Air Force

and 3 TFW commanders insisted that information be passed strictly through the chain of command and from a single source, the base public

affairs officer. Further, they

p rohibited public release of

i n f o rmation they viewed as

incomplete or speculative in

order to mitigate Clark’s active

rumor mill. The re c o rd is

clear; many meetings were

held with volcanologists and

unit commanders, and the

USGS team chief went on base

television to discuss the dangers two weeks before the evacuation. Many interviewees do

not recall reading about the

volcano in the base newspaper or seeing the televised briefing. Several recall learning details

about the volcano through their commanders

and first sergeants.

Although evacuation plans were not published until three days before the evacuation,

nearly 15,000 people moved off the base in an

orderly manner, without injury, in about six

hours. However, many did not take critical

items such as marriage licenses, insurance policies, and prescription medications. During the

days leading to the evacuation, there are no documented incidents, or even rumors, of widespread panic in the population. Many believe

they would have been better prepared to evacuate if they had been included in the plans sooner. The Thirteenth Air Force commander stated

that one of the main reasons he delayed evacuation was to give his people more time to adjust

mentally to the concept of evacuating.3

Nearly everyone interviewed expre s s e d

feelings of at least resentment, if not total anger,

at not being told more sooner. They wrongly

assume there was more to be told. Although

some commanders wanted a more open

approach to planning for a possible eruption,

information was passed through the chain of

command once the Thirteenth Air Force commander and wing commander

were satisfied of its reliability.

Of course, no one knew prior

to the evacuation to Subic Bay

that the eruptions would be so

big or that a typhoon would

strike simultaneously.

Without question, Subic

Bay was unprepared for the

onslaught of refugees which

slammed against its gates on

June 10. However, by June 12

e v e ryone was sheltered and

the initial chaos was under control. The

Thirteenth Air Force commander attributes the

chaos to Clark officials not giving enough precise information to Subic Bay before the

onslaught and to “lack of leadership” from some

senior Air Force leaders who were at Subic Bay.

Training and Discipline

Some observers of the evacuation, both

military and civilian, have claimed that such an

evacuation would not have succeeded but for

the training and discipline of the military members and their families. Despite previous hardships and the cynicism and skepticism those

hardships produced in Clark’s people, they evacuated the base in good order very quickly. Most

first sergeants and squadron commanders rallied

and organized their people at Subic Bay despite

the confusion and congestion, and they did it the

old fashioned way – pencil, paper, sweat, and

shoe leather. During the horrific conditions of

Black Saturday, Navy and Air Force engineers

left their families in homes and shelters to

inspect buildings, clear roofs, and lead endangered evacuees to safer shelters. Good order and

discipline saved many lives that “day” as buildings collapsed, in at least two instances, only

minutes after evacuees were moved. Evacuees

boarded ship after ship without incident or accident; and when tempers flared, officers and sergeants were on the scene to extinguish the

sparks.

102

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Few recall it as being fun,

but all remember the

satisfaction of succeeding

under grueling conditions

Navy Medics

attended the evac -

uees.
One incredible aspect of the evacuation

from Subic Bay to the United States is that no

one was fatally injured and there were only a

few minor injuries. More than 20,000 people

climbed gangplanks; children moved up and

down steep, steel ladders in the bowels of warships; elderly and infants donned flight gear to

cross flight decks, which some claim is the

world’s most dangerous work area; thousands

were transported on landing craft. Navy ships

f requently practice transporting non-combatants, and that training proved its worth during

the shuttle of evacuees from Subic Bay to Cebu.

Their success is testament to the training Navy

commanders gave their troops, the conscientious

actions of those sailors, and the indomitable grit

of the military families.

Many Ash Warriors described the challenges they endured as “one long ORI.” Every

Air Force base undergoes a periodic Operational

Readiness Inspection* when headquart e r s

inspectors evaluate every aspect of the base’s

ability to operate under combat conditions.

Throughout the inspection, ORI team members

inject problems with which the base must deal.

Air attacks are simulated, and after each attack

damage must be assessed and compensation

made for the loss of facilities or capabilities. At

Clark, the volcano tested the Ash Warriors for

weeks on end: eruptions, rain, lahars, no water,

no electricity, collapsing buildings. They reacted as they had been trained to react by assessing

the damage, inventorying resources, and finding

alternative ways to do the job. Few recall it as

being fun, but all remember the satisfaction of

succeeding under grueling conditions.

Communications

No commander can succeed without reliable communications. The brick system, a

trunked land mobile radio net, gave Clark commanders instant communication with every Ash

Warrior. The base possessed over 600 of the

hand-held radios, or one for every two Ash

Warriors during the eruptions, and one for every

three or four during the base closure. When the

CAT commander ordered a bugout over the radio

and backed it up with the base siren, everyone

moved immediately. Even when the base was

without power, the brick system still operated

from emergency generators. Nearly every commander interviewed for this book volunteered

their belief that the reliable bricks saved many

lives.

Planning

A plan to evacuate Clark was thro w n

together hastily with no time to practice or refine

the details. The best to be said of it was that it

worked. However, it is reasonable to assume

that the evacuation would have gone more

smoothly if base officials had started the effort

sooner and more publicly. The base was not

well trained in evacuation operations. Even

though a plan existed to fly dependents out of

Clark in a wartime scenario, the plan was never

exercised on anything but a very small scale, so

the families were not well rehearsed.

One of the most painful aspects of the

evacuation discussed by every evacuee and Ash

Warrior was the belief that they would only be

gone from Clark for two or three days. Everyone

interviewed, from the commanding general to

the youngest airman, said they thought they

would only be leaving the base for a very short

time – until the danger was past or the mountain

erupted and quieted down. However, no one

recalls what information they got that would

lead them to such a conclusion. The evacuation

pamphlet suggests clothing for three days and

pet food for three days, so perhaps evacuees

latched onto that number and assumed the best.

Certainly, many left things in their homes, pets

and important papers, they would have taken

had they believed they would be gone for weeks

or would never return. The warning scheme

103

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Willing helpers

attend to a preg -

nant woman on

her arrival at

Kadena AB.

* Names for inspections changed over the years. The Operational Readiness

Inspection was later divided into two inspections, the Initial Response Readiness

Inspection (IRRI) and the Combat Employment Readiness Inspection (CERI).
used by USGS–PHIVOLCS gave no mention of

an estimated time for the volcano to be “safe”

following an eruption. The lesson here is clear.

If an evacuation is ordered, evacuees should

plan their “bugout” kit for the worst scenario –

never return.

Some covert planning proved to be insightful. Essentially, the plan for the mission essential force (those who stayed at Clark) featured

two fall-back positions. The first was the alternate command post at Dau, which featured airfiltered, redundant emergency generators, the

main station for the brick system, air conditioning and large, open floor spaces. The second

was the stockpile of food, water, and communications at the Pampanga Agricultural College.

Each provided an additional margin of safety,

more distance, from the volcano. It was a good

scheme, well organized and should be a primary

planning factor for similar scenarios.

Command and Control

Several levels of command were at play

during the disaster. JTF-Fiery Vigil, commanded

by General Studer, controlled all military actions

in the Philippines. Studer’s immediate commander was USCINCPAC in Hawaii, and

Studer’s immediate Air Force subordinate was

Colonel Grime, the 3 TFW commander at Clark.

As events unfolded, Studer elected to command Fiery Vigil from Clark, the area he viewed

as “the front lines,” rather than from Manila or

Subic Bay. Some officers on Studer’s staff

thought Studer should be more visible to all US

military forces on the island, especially the Navy

at Subic Bay, where thousands of refugees were

sheltered.

Against this backdrop, two events happened that nearly cost Studer his job. First,

Fiery Vigil staff officers arrived at Clark from US

Pacific Command (USPACOM). Their job was to

provide staff support to Studer at Clark, and one

of their primary responsibilities was to keep

USPACOM informed of events, requirements,

and status of forces at both Subic Bay and Clark.

When the officers arrived, they were put under

the command of the 3 TFW CAT commander,

Colonel Anderegg. However, Anderegg knew little of joint staff procedures and was totally

immersed in conducting emergency actions in

the face of continuing eruptions. Without strong

leadership the Fiery Vigil staff was ineffective

and produced virtually no reports to USPACOM.

Second, during the bugout response to the first

eruption, Studer’s communication with the outside world was lost for a short time, an unacceptable situation in combat or disaster

response.

USCINCPAC, understandably concerned,

called Studer and asked him, “why I shouldn’t

fire you right now.” Studer replied that the communication problem had been fixed, that he

would fix the staff problem, and he still believed

he should be at the point of the spear. USCINCPAC relented, and Studer remained commander

of Fiery Vigil. Immediately after the painful conversation, Studer recalled his vice commander,

Col Bruce Freeman, from Subic Bay and put him

in charge of the Fiery Vigil staff at Clark.

Freeman was very experienced in joint staff matters and quickly had them working efficiently

while Anderegg again focused his attention on

directing emergency response. During an interview in 1999, Studer reaffirmed his conviction

that his place as commander, Thirteenth Air

Force, was on the front line of the battle.

Senior commanders at both Clark and

Subic Bay were effusive in their praise for the

effectiveness of their subordinate squadron and

group commanders. Almost without exception,

those dedicated and brave professionals gave

their very best. The security police group’s

reliance on decentralized control and unit levels

of authority in an Air Base Ground Defense posture was superb according to every senior officer

interviewed.

Caring for the Troops

Displaced Ash Warrior families scattered

across the United States and settled in “safe

haven” locations. The safe haven tag authorized

payments and allowances to the families to carry

them over until the Air Force could decide

where to send them. As the families settled into

safe haven locations they were totally confused

as to what the entitlements authorized. Nearby

Air Force bases tried to be helpful, but the Air

Force personnel and legal systems were slow to

respond to the evacuees’ needs and sometimes

put out conflicting guidance. In fact, entitlements changed four times after the evacuation.

Each change was more beneficial to the evacuees, but the changes resulted in much confusion.5

Of course Air Force bases and families

opened doors and hearts to evacuees, but many

evacuees were not in safe haven locations near

bases. Personnel and legal services immediately

established toll-free hotlines to answer evacuees’

questions, but everyone interviewed recalled

weeks of chaos trying to find clothing and places

to live followed by months of trying to track

down the locations of household goods and

vehicles shipped from the Philippines.

104

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
Summation

Many lessons were learned from the

Pinatubo eruptions and subsequent closure of

Clark Air Base, and most of these lessons are

included in Appendix 1. However, words alone

seem inadequate to express the suffering and

trauma caused by Mount Pinatubo. American

families were torn away from Filipino domestic

workers that were thought of as part of the family. Teenagers left school on Friday and never

saw the school again, and in many cases never

saw their friends to say goodbye. Many family

members later underwent therapy for post-traumatic stress disorder. The trauma that Black

Saturday visited on the huddled masses of evacuees can never be measured. Many survivors

weep as they describe the fear and frustration of

the eruptions and evacuation. Some told of

instances, years later, where they fled fro m

tiered parking garages because they could feel

the structures flexing, and the vibrations gave

them “flashbacks” of the earthquakes on Black

S a t u rd a y. Despite government funding for

expenses and losses to household goods and

vehicles, the disaster was a disaster, and, try as

one might, there is no happy face to put on it.

No amount of money or insurance can replace

the displacement of friends and the loss of nearfamily. The trauma caused by nature’s violence

scarred everyone who was there with the knowledge that humanity is fragile on our fragile Earth.

Violent natural forces kill many each year. Ash

expelled from Pinatubo lowered temperatures in

the northern hemisphere one degree centigrade

for nearly two years.6 When several Pinatubos

happen at once, humankind will be challenged

to survive. Clark survivors think of these things.

They lost their innocence – on a Saturday in the

Philippines.

105

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

NOTES TO CHAPTER 10

1 Adams interview.

2 Grime interview, 1999.

3 Studer interview.

4 Ibid.

5 Clark AB Closure Report.

6 Hoppe, Kathryn, "Mount Pinatubo cloud shades global climate,”

Science News, July 18, 1992, v 142, n 3, p 37 (1).
106
CLARK, 1998

The author traveled to Clark in November 1998. He was amazed at what he found. President

Fidel Ramos established the Clark Development Corporation (CDC) in 1993. The mission of the

CDC is to encourage commercial development and tourism in a Special Economic Zone which

encompasses all of the former Clark Air Base as well as a land mass as large as Clark to the north

and west. The Special Economic Zone provides significant tax advantages to businesses that operate on the old base.

The central part of the base, that area north of the parade field and around the officers’ club

and Chambers Hall is now the Mimosa Resort. Mimosa Resort operates independently of the CDC.

The resort encompasses the old golf course and club house, the junior NCO housing around the golf

course, the officers’ club, Chambers Hall, some of the barns in that area, and much of the new housing between the parade field and Wagner High School. The Mimosa Resort has been the focus of a

$64 million investment of Taiwanese, Japanese, Korean, and Australian investors. The centerpiece

of the resort is the former Chambers Hall, which is now a Holiday Inn. It claims to be a five-star

hotel, and in the author’s opinion it is close to that. A room there goes for $100 per night. The

remodeling effort in Chambers is nothing short of magnificent. Next door, the former officers’ club

is now a casino. Several of the barns behind the casino are theme restaurants such as a Gasthaus

and a Japanese restaurant. The junior NCO housing across the street from Chambers has been extensively remodeled into beautiful golf villas with tile roofs and arched Mediterranean doors and windows. The golf villas rent for $250 per night. A new club house has been built at the golf facility

which now features two 18-hole courses, and a third is under construction. The old Clark course

no longer exists; the holes were all redesigned to accommodate the expansion. Both of the new

courses have been seeded with imported grasses, and the ash was used to mound and sculpt the

fairways, tees and greens. The former caddies are gone as well – replaced by female caddies in the

Asian tradition.

Col John Murphy’s former headquarters building at the east end of the parade field is now the

Clark Museum. The museum uses the entire first floor of the building to present a comprehensive

history of the base from 1898 to 1998. The curator is Miss Cefey Yepez. The Fort Stotsenburg gate

posts still adorn the center of the parade field.

Over 200 industries operate on the base. These are computer assembly factories and other

high-tech businesses. Across the airfield, near where the Ash Warriors huddled in the Dau command post, is an enormous Yokohama Tire factory. There are also nearly 50 duty-free stores on the

base. These are not small shops such as ones in airports, but they are large stores such as Nevada

Discount Golf and others. All the duty-free stores are located in the area of the BX and commissary.

There is a water-theme park for children and an amusement park in conjunction with Expo 2000.

The exposition was built on the site of the former “elephant cage.” Developers took down the

antenna wires and built a large, free-form tent enclosure over the pilings from the elephant cage.

The old MAC terminal is now the terminal for Clark International Airport. The terminal has

been given a $2 million renovation and is a first-rate facility. The airfield is fully functional and

charter flights bring tourists and businessmen to the base. One amusing sight in the terminal area

is the old mortuary which is now the Four Seasons Restaurant, complete with bars on the windows.

The author ate lunch there twice and both times employees tried to convince him that the building

107

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Afterword

Thirteenth Air Force

Headquarters building.
was never used as a mortuary, apparently they were

losing business because of the building’s former

use. The food was great and comes highly recommended if one does not object to eating in a former

m o rt u a ry. Tourism seems to be flourishing.

Families come to Clark and stay either in the

Holiday Inn or a golf villa. The men do business

and play golf, while the families shop in the duty

free stores and play in the amusement parks. Tour

buses crowd the parking lots, and the Holiday Inn

is very busy.

The only area of the base that does not look

as good as or better than before the volcano is the

Hill housing. It is closed off from the rest of the

base. The area was stripped of doors, windows,

electrical wires, plumbing and fixtures when it was

turned over to the Philippine Air Force during the

Americans withdrawal. Nothing has been done

with it since. 

Angeles City, Dau, and Mabalacat are

bustling, thriving communities. Jeepneys and

trikes crowd the streets, and it is hard to believe

that nearby was an enormous base that once drove

the region’s economy. Many of the small, cottage

industries are gone, but in their place are other

businesses. Nearly 2,000 US military retirees still

live in the surrounding communities. Jim Boyd

still runs the Retirees Activity Office (RAO) as an

unpaid volunteer. There, retirees can communicate

via computer with DFAS and AFPC to work pay

and records problems. The University of Angeles

built a new hospital which takes CHAMPUS so

retirees get medical care there. The RAO can be

contacted at HYPERLINK mailto:rao_cabr@mozcom.com rao_cabr@mozcom.com (Note: there is an

underline mark between rao and cabr.) 

Another retiree activity that still thrives is

the local chapter of the Veterans of Foreign Wars.

Three years ago, the Clark cemetery was in disrepair. The cemetery is not an official overseas US

cemetery, but it holds the remains of several hund red US and Philippine veterans. Although

Thirteenth Air Force entered into an agreement

with the Philippine Air Force to maintain the

cemetery and provide flags for it, neither has fulfilled its part of the agreement for years. The VFW

has taken over maintaining the cemetery. It costs

them about $7,000 per year which they collect

through fund raisers and donations. They decorate

the cemetery each Veterans Day and Memorial Day.

Donations and information requests can be sent to

Mr. B.K. Hubbard, PSC 517, Box R-CV, FPO AP

96517-1000. Mr. Hubbard can also be contacted

t h rough email at HYPERLINK

m a i l t o : b k h u b @ m a i l . a n g . s e q u e l . n e t

bkhub@mail.ang.sequel.net

108

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
13AF PPlan 91-13-01

Facilities Drawdown Plan

26 Nov 91

Part IV: Commander's Comments

The programming plan provided good guidance. Adjustments were made as required in coordination with

13AF/XP and Clark AB OPRs. The support of all Clark agencies was superb. The drawdown plan, turnover procedures and documentation requirements were briefed and discussed with Brigadier General Acot, CABCOMICC on 12 September 1991. The milestones for the Programming Plan and the inherent milestones associated with the phased turnover of sector packages drove the process through the withdrawal. We met the milestones for the sector turnovers and met the objectives. In terms of timeline tracking, we got a late start but caught

up quickly. Overall, Clark agencies throughout assisted with the huge effort of packing and pick-up of supplies

and equipment. Early phases focused on household goods, followed by government facilities equipment.

The Excess Defense Article initiative proved to be a difficult challenge. Congressional notification was

required to transfer excess U.S. Government property to the Philippine Air Force. To accomplish this, an inventory was conducted of facilities, equipment we then listed with condition codes and forwarded through

PACAFIXP to SAF/IARP for final packaging to go to Congress. Following a required 15-day congressional review

period, approved property could be transferred. The size of the undertaking was almost unmanageable. People

worked long and hard to develop as precise a list as possible. With limited numbers of people, damaged facilities, and just recording data, it was a project which took extensive time – more than we anticipated. An early

start is essential. We obtained approval for the Excess Defense Articles to be transferred any time after 17 Oct

91, and the process proceeded on schedule.

The Base Closure Committee executed the plan and provided the “cross-tell” of information to address concerns, resolve disconnects in the individual organizational concepts and to propose coordinated and consolidated decisions and recommendations to the base leadership for base wide closure issues. It worked well, served

as a clearinghouse, fixed problems early on, and focused attention – on time – on the “make or break” critical

issues. We tracked milestones, calendar events, equipment turn-in schedules, vehicle utilization, personnel

flows, Excess Defense Articles, sector package processing, security issues and the documentation to put it

together. Throughout, the process and transition went just about as planned. The units across the base had good

documentation to verify a record or event. Again, it was essential. Additionally, below are comments and some

lessons learned from the major activities that executed the plan. The 120 days was a fast-paced operation that

produced the desired smooth, orderly and dignified U.S. withdrawal from Clark Air Base.

GENERAL

On 17 July 1991, US and Government of Philippines (GOP) representatives publicly announced that the US

facility at Clark AB, RP would be turned over to the GOP NLT 16 Sept 1992. Following this announcement, 13AF

and 3TFW were tasked to develop a drawdown plan to remove the US presence from Clark AB. The 1947

Military Bases Agreement (as amended) stated that the GOP owned all permanent structures and these structures would revert to GOP. This agreement also qualified the definitions of non-removable and removable property. Finally, this agreement gave the GOP the right of first refusal for all removable property declared excess to

defense needs. This agreement set the guidelines for drawdown objectives.

The objectives of the drawdown were:

1) Provide an orderly, legal and dignified withdrawal;

2) Detail essential time phased actions required to terminate USAF activities;

3) Provide for the turnover of assets on the non-removable property listing;

109

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Appendix 1 CLARK AIR BASE CLOSURE REPORT

Air Force members packed

property for removal from

Clark AB.
4) Identify and remove all non-excess removable

property;

5) Transfer excess removable property to the GOP.

The critical factor in developing the drawdown plan

centered around minimizing the time involved. This was

due to the risk to personnel and equipment from continued encroachment of volcanic hazards on the Clark community and the potential for security and labor relations

problems as the US withdrawal progressed. Likewise,

maintenance of basic services such as water and power

was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain.

To meet the above objectives and the critical planning factors, the closure plan was based on a 120 day

drawdown with a start date of 1 Aug 91. All units would

phase out in less than 120 days and all facilities/excess

equipment would be turned over the GOP within the

same period.

The base was organized into six general geographic

“packages” with one package turned over to the GOP

every two weeks starting mid September 1991. All facilities in a given package would transfer on that date except

those critical to continued US conduct of operations during the withdrawal. Description of Packages are as follows:

Package I - Mid Sept 91

Landmass east of runways

Munitions Storage Area (MSA) I

Golf Course

Hill Military Family Housing Area (MFH)

* 7500 Series dormitories

* In-flight kitchen

* CSG HO building

Note: Even prior to the eruption of Mt. Pinatubo,

these facilities were prepared for turnover to the PAF

starting in September 1991.

Package II - 1 Oct 91

Northern landmass of the base Hospital

6922 ESS and antenna farms

Bambam Drop Zone

Package III - Mid Oct 91

POL Storage Area

SATCOM Site

Sapangbato MFH

Various MWR facilities

MSA II

Note: Because the landmass of this package was most

a ffected by mudflows/flood-mg, this package was

designed for turnover to coincide with the onset of the

"dry” season. Additionally, with this package, the PAF

now controlled the entire perimeter of Clark AB.

Package IV - 1 Nov91

Runways

Flightline facilities

Package V - Mid Nov 91

MFES Complex

Commissary

Lily Hill MFH

Dining Hall Facilities

Supply Warehouses

Remaining Dormitories (except SP)

Package VI - End Nov 91 

Parade Ground/Golf Course MFH

Various mission essential facilities no longer 

required

Mission Essential Facilities - Close Date

Billeting

Messing

SP/CE/Communication compounds.

Infrastructure

Note: These mission essential facilities were those

required to remain under USAF control until closure

date.

The Philippine Air Force/CABCOM (Clark Air Base

Command) was responsible for security within their packages after turnover. USAF/DOD security personnel provided point security only on any mission essential facilities remaining within a PAF controlled area.

When the above turnover plan was approved, the

13AF Facilities Drawdown Programming Plan (PPlan)

was developed. The PPlan time phased actions were developed to coincide with the turnover of the various packages. Organizations cut back services provided, removed

all non-excess equipment items and reduced manning

requirements as each package turned over. Also, organizations consolidated remaining services/personnel into

the minimum number of facilities possible. The planned

result was to have the majority of services terminated and

all non-excess equipment removed by mid November.

In determining the status of equipment the following

measures of merit were considered. Non-excess equipment had to be critical to DOD needs, accountable,

serviceable and had to be economically viable to remove.

Computers, weapon system spares, munitions, most communications equipment, special purpose vehicles, high

value medical equipment, weapons and mobility/CWDE

gear met the non-excess criteria and was shipped from

Clark AB. Excess equipment remaining in place for transfer to GOP included most office furniture, some powered/non-powered ground support equipment, general

purpose vehicles and general support supplies. All base

agencies made inventories of what they determined to be

excess equipment. These excess defense articles were

consolidated and submitted through HHO for the congressional notification process. The Excess defense article

list met the congressional notification period and the

USAF was authorized to transfer these articles to the GOP

free of charge.

AAFES

AAFES was able to open twelve facilities within

three weeks of the eruption with one shoppette opened

three days after the eruption. During the final 45 days,

MFES operated a small retail facility (50 linear feet) in the

corner of the Chambers Hall's Snack Bar. We kept gasoline

pumping until 15 Nov, a Barber/Beauty Shop open until

23 Nov and the Video Rental open until 25 Nov 1991.

The average sales on Clark for 1990 was $4.4 million

a month. From July through October 1991, sales averaged

$400,000 per month.

We used 137 containers to move $18 million in merchandise and equipment to other MFES exchanges in

WESTPAC.

A RIF type process lowered the work force from 800

110

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
to 200 by August (RIFs were pro c essed in Oct).

Remaining personnel were released when no longer

required and AAFES terminated operations 25 Nov 91

with 10 personnel on the payroll. The pre-eruption payroll averaged 4 million pesos ($148,000) per month.

Severance pay for the 800 personnel was 85 million pesos

($3,148,000).

We feel we've done an outstanding job not only in

protecting and recovering our assets, but most importantly providing a much needed service. It goes without saying that we couldn't have done it alone. Three groups

deserve a lot of recognition. They are:

1) Our employees. These folks traveled acro s s

rain/mud swollen rivers (or walked across) to get to work.

They were responsible for getting facilities open, shelves

stocked and merchandise shipped.

2) The Navy Exchange at Subic Bay. The exchange at

Subic suffered more structural damage than we had at

Clark including destruction of all of their warehouses.

Regardless, they were most cooperative in shipping merchandise to keep Clark Ash Warriors in stock of common

sundries.

3) The Air Force personnel at Clark. Every o n e

worked together to help us accomplish our mission. From

the Communications Group getting phones and all the

important computer lines up - to SPs guarding our facilities. Everyone demonstrated the ability to cut through

needless red tape. This was a major undertaking and the

Air Force did it.

AFOSI

The Operational Track, supervised by Dist 42/DO/IVI

but primarily headed by Det 4240/CC, focused on antiterrorism collections, Protective Service Operations and

reactive criminal operations.

Det 4240 Operational Team conducted work on over

40 pending cases and opened several cases in addition to

conducting numerous Protective Service Operations and

continued IIR publication. Operations transferred pending cases and evidence to OSI units, FBI, NIS, USSS, etc.,

and assisted in preparation of Det 4240 supplies and

equipment for shipment. A small task force completed

work on 91 42D6-279 and helped SJA prepare for General

Court-Martial of subject at Hickam AFB, HI.

The Closure Track, headed by Dist 42/DO, initiated

closure actions. Initial actions focused on protection and

removal of USAF/AFOSI property and assets left in Bldg

2127, Dist 42 HQ. All assets were removed and shipped to

locations identified by HO AFOSI/LI/LI/LG; primarily

Dist 46, Yokota AB, Japan by 4 Sep 91. Necessary actions

were taken to close Dist 42 HO at CAB and transfer all district responsibilities to Dist 42, US Embassy. Closed case

files were transferred to staging area for extensive review

and follow-up of command actions. AFOSI also transferred or disposed of over 1000 items of evidence.

CHAPLAIN

Following the decision to close Clark AB, all

Catholic and Protestant Chaplain Fund Property was

donated to over 20 different Catholic and Protestant

Parishes which had been devastated by Mt. Pinatubo.

This was accomplished by 30 September and done in

a c c o rdance with AFR 265-9 and direction from HO

PACAF/HC.

The Chaplain Funds were dissolved by 30 Sep 91.

Two cashier checks, for the Protestant account #16580998

for $38,065.86 and for the Catholic account #165081000

for $16,431.74 were mailed to HO USAF/HCB per AFR

265-9.

An additional four refund checks were also mailed to

USAF/HCB totaling $5,544.00 from United Airlines for

tickets not used because of the eruption of Mt. Pinatubo

and the cancellation of the Christian Concert. These

checks were not deposited into the Protestant account as

it was already closed.

The original receipts from the donation of Catholic

and Protestant Chaplain Fund Property, along with the

Catholic and Protestant Fund records were mailed and are

now on file with HO PACAF/HC. Two grand pianos and

two Allen organs from Chapel One and Chapel Two were

crated and shipped to AFLC.

Chapel One and the Activity Building were turned

over to CABCOM on 17 Oct 91. Chapel Two turned over

on 15 Nov 91. After this turnover, all remaining Chapel

programs/services were conducted at the Airmen's Open

Mess or at the Chamber's Hall Chapel Annex through 26

Nov 91.

CIVIC ACTIONS

Following the eruption of Mt. Pinatubo in mid June

and the ensuing evacuation from Clark AB, Civic Actions

(CA) reconstituted its operations on base on 28 June. The

challenges faced were considerable. Prior to the eruption,

there were four U.S. personnel assigned; however, two

USAF enlisted personnel that supervised the CA warehouse were evacuated and did not return to Clark.

Physical destruction was substantial. The CA warehouse (Bldg 2885) had collapsed and the resulting damage obliterated numerous records and receipts, as well as

destroying large quantities of relief supplies and medicines. CA's main office (Bldg 2443) sustained minor damage but remained structurally sound and, once substantial

clean up was accomplished, became a combined office

and warehouse facility. It took approximately one week to

salvage recoverable facilities, clean usable facilities and

prepare to undertake substantial relief operations which

began on 5 July with provision of tents and sleeping bags

to Poroc, Pampanga.

A major challenge for our relief convoys throughout

the entire period was bypassing numerous downed

bridges and negotiating riverbeds swollen with mud and

volcanic debris. Sudden heavy downpours posed the ominous threat of triggering cascading walls of mud that

could engulf our operating locations or isolate us from the

base. One mobile medical operation to the hard hit

municipality of Conception Tarlac had to be cut short and

all personnel hastily evacuated due to a fast moving mudslide. Consequently, frequent weather checks and continuous communications with the 3TFW Command Center

were necessary to preclude dangerous situations.

Other challenges included a re-orientation of mission focus from generalized nation-building programs

throughout five central Luzon provinces to a more specific disaster relief operation in the immediate vicinity of

Clark AB. Realizing that the scope of the disaster had

overwhelmed central and local government resources, CA

began a three pronged program of medical operations and

relief goods distribution in dozens of evacuation centers,

while providing as much usable excess U.S. Government

property as possible local schools, hospitals and municipal offices through the DOD/State Depart m e n t

Humanitarian Assistance Program (HAP).

CA's goal was to create a highly visible USAF profile

among the tens of thousands of homeless evacuees huddled around Clark AB by demonstrating the continued

concern of the U.S. government for their plight even as a

major evacuation of U.S. personnel and valuable equip111

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
ment from Clark was under way. To the extent that CA

was successful in maintaining or enhancing a positive

and caring USAF image in the surrounding communities

during this period, a direct spin-off would be enhanced

security for U.S. personnel and resources, both on and off

base. Toward that end, CA's relief distribution continued

until just prior to the final Clark AB turn-over ceremony

on 26 November.

CA's disaster relief operations around Clark AB

included 24 mobile medical operations treating over

14,000 evacuees, and 48 relief goods missions distributing

125,000 individual meals and 3,973 blankets, as well as

numerous other excess property contributions.

COMMISSARY

Following the eruption of Mt. Pinatubo, commissary

operations virtually came to a halt. The commissary main

store, remote warehouse and three of the five buildings

located at the cold storage area were left intact. However,

the main store was filled with mud and debris. Several

thousands of dollars worth of merchandise and equipment was destroyed or damaged beyond repair.

After a clean up of the main facility was completed,

a case lot sale was conducted from 22 Aug to 7 Sep 91.

The sale accumulated a total of $800,193.51 cash sales to

patrons.

To support mission essential personnel (Ash

Warriors) manning Clark AB, a commissary Wee-Serve

was set up in the store adjacent to the main commissary

building. The Wee-Serve began operations 22 Aug 91 and

concluded operations 3 Nov 91. Cumulative totals for that

period was $263,130.30.

The case lot sale conducted at the main store and

Wee-Serve operations was not expected to deplete the

remaining merchandise still in the warehouse. Daily

transfers were conducted from Clark to Subic Naval

Commissary. In excess of 1.1 million dollars of perishable

and semi-perishable merchandise was transferred. This

amount also includes $14,000 of troop subsistence transferred to the Naval Supply Depot. Items not transferred to

the Naval Commissary were used by base Civic Action in

helping residents affected by Mt Pinatubo's eruption.

Commissary equipment was affected by the eruption

also. Approximately $800,000 of commissary equipment

that was salvageable and cost effective to be used at other

commissaries or US facilities was transferred to Subic

Naval Bay.

The effort put forth by the initial 5 NCOs and 1

Airman, 27 local national employees and continued on by

the remaining 5 individuals including 2 TDY personnel

kept the base fully supported throughout this difficult

period.

COMMUNICATIONS

The 1961st Communications Group was tasked with

removing the communications and computer systems

supporting Clark Air Base, Wallace Air Station, and Camp

O'Donnell. These removals also affected re m o t e

microwave radio repeater sites at Tinang, Santo Tomas,

Angat, Villamor, and the US Embassy in Manila. The

1961CG created a dedicated staff of four people to complete the planning process and monitor system removals.

A 20-person removal team was also organized. To provide

removal expertise in the specific areas of heavy radar and

antennas, the assistance of a 12-person engineering and

installation (El) team was obtained from the 1837E15,

Yokota AB, Japan. Removal time lines were established

based on mandated drawdown dates, communications

requirements supporting base closure efforts, systems

threatened with destruction, and systems not required.

Most communications-computer systems received only

minor damage and were totally recoverable. The only

equipment not recovered due to corrosive effects of the

ash were the antennas which were all abandoned in

placed.

Removal of all Wallace AS communications-computer systems was accomplished by 1961 CG, OL-F personnel with minor support of Clark people. Camp O'Donnell

equipment was removed. Both installations were completed by 10 Sep 91, with only minor difficulties.

Two communications areas, the satellite communications facility and the high frequency (HF) radio receiver site, were considered in danger of total destruction by

high waters and hot mudflows. The satellite communications area, being closer to the volcano and a river, was the

most threatened facility. This facility received major

water and mud damage to the solid state uninterruptible

power supply area, due to a collapsed roof, but the actual

system received only minor water damage and was identified as salvageable. To ensure this $29 million facility

was salvaged, the maximum removal time was established as 30 days and a specialized Army team from Ft

Huachuca AZ was gained through coordination with

Defense Communications Agency (DCA) and PACAF.

Eighteen personnel arrived on 15 Aug 91. Local communications personnel coordinated with transportation, civil

engineering, and removal team personnel to provide

cranes, forklifts and trucks. Complete system removal was

finished on 9 Sep 91. Removal of the HF facility was

simultaneously accomplished by 1961 CG and EI people

without any significant problems.

Minor adjustments to the removal schedule were

continuously made throughout the process. All changes

resulted in the earlier removal of equipment to reflect loss

of missions or to protect equipment from vandalism.

Examples were the decision to close the radar approach

and control facility (RAPCON) and reduce HF radio and

weather operations. Closure of the RAPCON allowed the

radar and radio equipment, 10 sea-vans of equipment, to

be removed 45 days ahead of the original schedule. This

permitted the early release of 15 people. Reducing HF

radio and weather operations allowed the shipment of 6

vans of equipment 60 days early, release of 4 people, and

saved the equipment from destruction by vandals breaking into our remote areas.

Last day communications needs were identified as

worldwide telephone, message, land mobile radio, and

limited high frequency radio capabilities. Telephone service was provided by replacing the $7.5 million, DMS 100

switch with a smaller, 600 line, switch previously ordered

to support base re q u i rements. Switch cut-over was

accomplished without incident on 6 Nov 91. Crates,

boxes, and packing materials were pre-positioned for all

remaining equipment to facilitate removal on 26 Nov 91.

Removal, packing, and disposition of over 31 different

communications-computer systems valued in excess of

$140 million were accomplished in less than 120 days.

During the Clark Air Base closure process, the 1961

CG provided training to Philippine Air Force personnel.

Fifteen PAF personnel received training in the Air Traffic

Control tower. This training covered tower procedures

and radio operations. Our operations personnel provided

training to two people on switchboard operations.

Training on switch maintenance, cable re p a i r, land

mobile radio repair, and technical control repair was provided to 30 people by our maintenance branch.

6922 ELECTRONIC SECURITY SQUADRON

112

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
All major actions were completed prior to the implementation of the PPlan. Squadron equipment was

removed by an ESC team of technicians and shipped to

other command units or to depot at Kelly AFB. All classified material was destroyed or shipped to a sister

squadron at Kadena AB, Japan. A small mission operation

remained at Clark AB until after the closure ceremony.

The commander, two operators and a maintenance technician remained until the final day with the remaining

equipment driven to Cub Pt NAS and hand receipted to

an USMC unit for long term loan.

COMPTROLLER

Upon notification of the closure of Clark, we immediately contacted all required agencies --HO PACAF/AC,

Air Force Audit Agency, Defense Finance and Accounting

Center-Denver and PACOM central funding. We developed these objectives:

Full pay/travel service to Clark team and evacuees;

Funding for services/supplies for our withdrawal;

Closure and transfer of appropriated accounts.

The next task was to determine which personnel

would remain for the closure. We were able to keep a

good mix of comptroller personnel which allowed for an

orderly closure without interruption of normal day-to-day

financial services.

Although accounting became a nightmare because

all records were lost during the eruption, a comprehensive, yet simple, manual accounting system was established until computer connectivity was established with

Kadena AB. We then coordinated with HO PACAF/AC to

determine where our operation would be relocated until

the deactivation of the AFO.

A major task to be accomplished was payment of

final, severance and leave pay to all the local national and

U.S. civilians that were being RIF'd. This required close

coordination with MSSQ, CCPO, the local union and our

Civilian Pay section. Although these payments had to be

computed manually and became a very tedious and time

consuming task, we were able to pay all employees prior

to 22 Nov 91.

Evacuee Safe Haven benefits were changed four

times, each change being at variance with the Joint

Federal Travel Regulations. This caused a lot of confusion

worldwide and a tremendous workload on our specialists

in the form of calls to hundreds of disbursing offices to

make sure they had the “straight” word. In the end,

AFMPC/DPMA msg 202200Z Sep 91 laid out clear and

final guidance on evacuee benefits.

There was significant posturing from HHQ on how to

report costs associated with Pinatubo and subsequent

withdrawal. We tracked the costs carefully and wound up

with the following:

COMMODITY FY 91 ($000) FY 92 ($000)

Civilian Pay $ 5,719 $ 4,661

Civilian PCS 295 350

TDY Travel 1,475 250

Transportation 1,892 1,407

CE Services 1,281 473

Supplies 1,665 360

Equipment -0- 3

Miscellaneous 3,326 1,267 

TOTAL $ 15,653 $ 8,771

On 1 Nov all accounting records were packed up and

shipped to Kadena AB where the AFO and four enlisted

people set up a small finance operation for the purpose of

final balancing and closure of the AFO account.

Estimated completion date is May 92.

CONTRACTING

The closure process for the Contracting Center presented great challenges to even the most experienced contracting personnel. Numerous milestones and checklists

had to be developed to ensure an orderly and dignified

shutdown of the center. Plagued with poor communication lines, language barriers, time zone differences and a

geographic location where the supply lines are very long,

the center initiated the closure process with local and distant contractors.

The initial task for the center was to assess the actual workload and determine the proper course of action to

cancel and/or terminate all existing active contracts. It

was discovered that over 6,600 small supply and service

purchase orders valued at $12 million and 84 complex

construction and service contracts valued at over $64 million had to be canceled. In an attempt to expedite this

compressed process, cancellation letters were sent to all

vendors, both local and those in the United States. The

letter informed vendors that all orders that had not been

shipped were being canceled, and if the vendor concurred, his signature was required and requested to return

the letter. Vendors who had questions or did not agree

with this cancellation were given 20 days to contact this

office for resolution. This process proved to be extremely

effective as over 95% of these purchase orders were canceled using bilateral agreement, saving the US government thousands of dollars in possible claims.

The termination process for the 84 construction and

service contracts, each over $25,000, was more difficult

and time consuming based on the complexity and the

regulations governing these contracts. The initial attempt

was to “Terminate for Convenience of the Government”

the majority of these contracts. However, after proper

study, it was discovered that this process would be

extremely lengthy and prolong the termination process by

an additional year. It was decided to use deductive modifications, whereby remaining work on contracts would be

deductive and with the contractor paid for work completed and cost incurred. This process alleviated a possible

one year settlement and allowed most contracts to close

out in less than 30 days.

Remaining contracts that require Termination for

Convenience or other contractual actions such as claims

and Armed Service Board of Contract Appeal cases that

require lengthy settlement periods was transferred to the

two man contracting office in Manila. This office will

remain open until June 1992 with Andersen AFB, Guam,

assuming administrative duties.

DRMO

Clark AB DRMO facilities experienced heavy damage from the eruption of Mt. Pinatubo. All scrap and other

items stored outside were covered with ash and mud.

Additionally, warehouses suffered interior damage due to

flooding and mudflows. After cleanup operations, DRMO

prepared for a large influx of excess property. Also, in

excess of 800 POV's were turned into DRMO as

Government Claims Property. To meet the closure date an

“expedited method of negotiated sales” was used. This

enabled DRMO to successfully sell all excess property

(including POV's) and obtain sales in excess of $450,000.

ENGINEERING

113

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
From an engineering prospective, Clark phase-out

operations have challenged us in six major areas:

1. Packout of equipment

2. Continued operation of utility systems

3. Resolution of environmental problems

4. Inspection and turnover of facilities

5. Preparation for unexpected natural disasters

6. Finalization of evacuation-related housing 

issues

Equipment packout went very smoothly with our

engineers continually being among the leaders in beating

wing packout schedule milestones. We initially made

comprehensive surveys with a team from 3d Supply

Squadron to determine material and equipment for packout, identify property as excess, and determine what

material was immediately available for our counterparts

at Subic, Cub Point, the U.S. Embassy, and Diego Garcia,

among others. Once we determined what these agencies

could retrieve, they very efficiently loaded and hauled the

material, under our supervision, with very little impact

on our resources. These appliances varied from new

appliances (dishwashers, ranges, refrigerators, washers,

and dryers) to refrigerators in abandoned quarters full of

rancid food. We were able to ship 3000 new appliances

(nearly 70 SeaLand vans) to Andersen AB.

A contractor was hired to clean refrigerators in quarters at a small fee to abate environmental problems, and

the remainder of appliances, nearly all used or damaged,

were either centrally stored or left in place.

Our people--structural, heavy equipment--were

instrumental in supporting extensive material extrication

operations from downed facilities base wide. Over $750

million in equipment and supplies were successfully

retrieved.

Operating our utility systems was a real challenge

that our technical experts handled brilliantly. With the

continual presence of the abrasive, corrosive ash,

mechanical systems failed prematurely. Backup parts

were not available. Operators were forced to remove parts

from inoperative systems and secure emergency repairs

from local vendors.

One problem that complicated our efforts was the

deterioration of facilities after the turnover to the PAF. At

times, plumbing fixtures were removed from their mounts

leaving water to be lost. As a result, we secured entire

areas of electricity and water service to continue support

to remaining U.S. personnel. The systems (water and electrical) were extremely fragile and conservation was a top

priority. The likelihood of bringing these systems back to

life is small--repairs would be extensive and costly, breaks

would be hard to find as several inches of ash cover most

valves, and exposed components deteriorated rapidly

from corrosion.

Throughout, we encouraged the PAF to work along

with our experts both during formal seminars and training sessions as well as OJT. Response was sparse. Most of

the PAF individuals who were assigned to us had little or

no prior experience or at best were generalists rather than

specialists. Our systems are extremely complex. Continued operation after the U.S. departure will be difficult.

Our Liquid Fuels Maintenance people supported

complicated fuel transfer operations to facilitate removal

of over 2.2 million gallons of POL products from the tank

farm prior to turnover.

Environmental cleanup operations were directed at

the removal of stored hazardous waste and PCB from

stored transformers. Since we lacked the manpower and

contracting capability to remove this material before the

departure of U.S. forces, we contracted this operation

through the Public Works Center at Subic. Operations

were completed by mid November.

Facility turnover, despite the scope of the task--nearly 3800 facilities--went very smoothly. Simplistically,

organizations cleaned and turned facilities over to CE, CE

and the PAF performed a joint inspection of the facilities,

and then facilities, in phases, were signed over to the PAF

with a simplified administrative procedure. Two major

problems were encountered especially in the housing

areas, both related to access. First, hundreds of houses

were relatively inaccessible--debris, trees, mudflows and

ash made vehicle movement nearly impossible.

Employing in-house and contract equipment and labor,

we ensured that access was gained. Secondly, hundreds of

evacuees left with their keys. Our locksmiths had to forcefully enter over 3000 facilities and then replace the locksets in most cases. This forced entry procedure was necessary due to the extremely ambitious packout schedules

and the need to gain access to hundreds of facilities each

day.

One of our major challenges, especially during the

rainy season, was to prepare for flooding, ash falls, mud

flows, or wind damage from either torrential rains or

typhoons. We had to hire a large labor force to hand-dig

drainage systems, employ contracted heavy equipment to

dredge waterways, and carry off huge quantities of ash to

preclude it from ending up in drainage systems. As rains

came and went, we needed to repeat this procedure at

least four times, as systems would fill time and time

again. Requirements contracts for both labor and equipment saved the day. Nearly $800K was spent to ensure

that we were properly protected. Throughout, recovery

and prevention were our aims rather than reconstitution

or reconstruction.

Our housing office was initially involved heavily in

ascertaining the status of evacuees and identifying quarters off-base that needed to be packed out. They were also

involved as key members of assessment teams, inspecting

quarters and recording damage to evacuees‘belongings.

Finally, they geared up to support claims from Air Force

homeowners downtown who either lost their homes or

who are unable to sell their homes. We needed DOD-level

officials to visit Clark to administer the Homeowner

Assistance Program (Public Law 89-754, Section 1013).

Despite our requests and those of PACAF/DE, we were

unable to receive the on-site assistance.

Despite our dwindling resources--equipment, supplies, and people--the final analysis will show that our

engineers and firefighters did a remarkable job in protecting assets, keeping systems on line, and getting highvalue materials and equipment on the way to other users.

Our people were extremely professional enthusiastic, and

resourceful in not only handling the ordinary but also in

attacking and resolving the extraordinary.

FAMILY SUPPORT CENTER

The personal effects of personnel evacuated to

CONUS were mailed to appropriate forwarding addresses.

Remaining FSC equipment/property was transferred to

the FSC at Naval Station Subic Bay.

Air Force Aid was provided to remaining personnel

as needed. All Air Force Aid Society files were either forwarded to the gaining station of the member, or to HO

AFAS. All AFAS records were audited prior to shipment

to AFAS. All other AFAS property to include files, canceled checks, check register was mailed to HO AFAS.

Remaining unused AFAS checks were, at the direction of

3CSG/CC, shredded with two witnesses to the action.

114

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
Limited counseling was provided to individuals in

need of short term counseling through 22 Nov 91.

HOSPITAL

Upon returning from Subic, HO PACAF/SG was contacted and concurred to zero all Medical Center supply

and equipment accounts. This made it easier to add items

back to our accounts rather than trying to find the items

and adjust the inventory during salvage operations.

Further coordination with PACAF/SG on a single

destination for all 23 million dollars worth of salvaged

medical and dental equipment simplified the transportation requirements. The timely arrival of requested medical maintenance and medical logistics TDY personnel

provided us the needed manpower to complete the salvage and excess inventory operations.

Due to the lack of power to operate the hospital's elevators, many bulky and expensive medical equipment

items were initially stranded on the 2nd floor (Surgery

and OB). By using two 4k forklifts and a borrowed crane

we were able to salvage these items.

Because of the size of the Medical Center, surrounding buildings and having ongoing medical and dental

operations at an entirely different part of the base, good

communications was vital. The Motorola STx-800 handheld radios with a separate medical radio net worked

extremely well and enhanced our overall operation.

Finally, remaining medical clinic personnel were

able to provide essential services throughout the drawdown. Basic medical care was provided to all qualified

personnel during the majority of the drawdown, with

some specialties available until late October.

JUDGE ADVOCATE

International Law: We began the closeout period

with seventeen “international hold” cases. All cases were

closed out.

Military Justice: We began the closeout period with

three general court martials. All cases were successfully

tried and concluded. In addition, over 20 Article 15

actions were completed.

Civil Law: Legal assistance was provided to the base

population until 15 October 1991. Powers of Attorney

w e re available until 25 November 1991. A Joint

U.S./Government of the Philippines program to sell tax

exempt privately owned vehicles (POVs) was implemented. A 50% ash-damage reduction on the taxes assessed on

the vehicles was successfully negotiated. A variety of

quality force issues was resolved including two administrative discharge boards under AFR 39-10. One officer

discharge case under AFR 36-2 was transferred to the

633ABW/JA at Andersen AFB, Guam. In addition, a variety of other issues associated with the withdrawal of

American forces were resolved to include: closing down

38 private organizations, disposal of MWR pro p e rt y,

reviewing all contracts for termination and disposal of

two Merit System Protection Board cases.

Claims: Over 840 claims were processed with over

$650,000 paid for damages resulting from the eruption of

Mt. Pinatubo. Over 1,600 POVs and over 5,000 residences

on and off base were inspected for damaged property.

Administration: Office files and equipment were

transferred to Andersen AFB, Guam as well as all remaining unresolved issues.

MAINTENANCE

The workload confronting maintenance upon return

from evacuation was mammoth. Only 28 permanent party

3TFW maintainers were left at Clark to accomplish the

out-load of munitions storage and aircraft maintenance

while simultaneously supporting the pack-ups/shipments

of household goods and automobiles for over 1,000 maintainers and their families. We immediately prepared a

detailed milestone chart and assessed TDY manpower

requirements --45 TDY personnel were requested and

received in July and August 1991 to work the following:

1. Pack-up and shipment of 298 truckloads of

munitions and related equipment valued at

over $100 million.

2. Closure of 73 munitions custody accounts from

Wallace Air Station, Camp O'Donnell, Crow

Valley Range, and Clark Air Base.

3. Salvage and shipment of $40 million of jet

engines and related support equipment from

collapsed buildings.

4. Salvage and shipment of $11 million of WRM

a rmament pylons and equipment from collapsed buildings.

5. Salvage and shipment of $4.5 million of precision measurement laboratory equipment.

6. Salvage and shipment of over $55 million of

ground support equipment from AGS, CR5, and

EMS shops.

All of the above actions were completed by 20 Oct 91

- weeks ahead of schedule. In November, only 24 maintenance personnel (including contractors) remained to handle transient alert, closure of helicopter operations (last

flights on 26 Nov) and final munitions accountability tabulations at Subic Naval Magazine. The three UH-1 Ns will

be prepared for shipment and transported from NAS Cubi

Pt to Alaska in early December.

MANPOWER AND ORGANIZATION

HQ PACAF/XPM at Hickam AFB, Hawaii was

responsible for the manpower actions associated with the

closure of Clark Air Base. Returning from Subic the

Management Engineering Team (M~ co-located with

13AF/XP to work the manpower issues. The most important issue was the development of the new 13AF manpower requirements, which were transferred to Andersen

AFB, Guam. During this period, the 13AF/DP created the

Manpower and Personnel Readiness Center (MPRC). This

was composed of two manpower and two personnel folks.

It's mission was the accountability of ah ash warriors

(U.S. Military, DOD Civilians, Contractors, etc.) and TDY

manning assistance requests.

MISSION SUPPORT SQUADRON

1. Information Management:

A. Reprographics: A total of $171,296 worth of reprographic/duplicating equipment was disposed of lAW AF

regulations and coordination with HO PACAF/IM. TDY

assistance was brought in to break down equipment and

to send it to various units within PACAF. Each gaining

organization paid the shipping costs. Each piece of equipment was assessed for depreciation value, wear and tear,

and damage due to water and the corrosive ash. A total of

$128,690 worth of equipment was shipped. The re m a i n i n g

items valued at $42,606 were turned over to DRMO for bidding. This included two offset presses and a plate maker.

B. Records: Due to the severe environmental factors

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T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
existing immediately following the eruption and the

potential for further damage due to rain, ash and mudflows, a plan was developed to evacuate critical records.

Taking into consideration the airlift available and the

traveling distance, Kadena AB was chosen to stage and/or

make final disposition of re c o rds. The priority one

records were medical, dental, personnel (military), education records (DODDS) and civilian personnel records. A

total of 24 pallets were shipped in an eight-day time

frame. All other base records were shipped lAW AFR 12-

50. Items not determined cost effective to ship were

shredded through the MWR Recycling Center

C. Publication Distribution Office: The building

which housed the PDO was condemned by Civil

Engineering; power and water were never restored. As a

result, very few forms were able to be salvaged. Any

excess forms on base were shredded through MWR recycling lAW AFR 4-71, para 7-1 as it was not feasible to

transfer unserviceable forms and publications. All form

requests were made through PACAF/IMP. Lateral support

was handled through the PDO at Kadena AB. All accountable forms were disposed of lAW AFR 4-71, para 5-7b. All

associated documentation (AF Form 145, Certificate of

Destruction, AF Form 213, Receipt for Accountable Form,

and AF Form 505, Accountable Forms Stock Control

Record) was forwarded to the designated staging area.

D. Copier Program: Aggressive actions were taken to

retrieve all copiers for turn in to the contractor. A few

copiers were unable to be retrieved due to the unsafe condition or excessive structural damage to its facility. Any

copier unable to be retrieved or lost, was documented and

coordinated through contracting and the Xerox contractors. Out of 202 copiers, seven were lost or unable to be

retrieved, and 195 were recovered.

2. Civilian Personnel: Separations/Reductions-inforce actions were conducted as they were and when they

were to confirm that the United States Government and

USAF were compassionate employers. Effective dates

were chosen to give the employees the greatest benefits or,

conversely, not to separate them a few days before a

Collective Bargaining Agreement benefit was due (effective 1 Oct91).

3. Social Actions: All documentation was disposed

of lAW AFR 12-50 and AFR

30-2. All active files, historical records, films, videos

and audio cassettes were sent to HO PACAF/DPAH. All

actions were completed by 11 Sep 91

4. History: TDY support from HO PACAF/HO and

313 AD/HO completed all actions necessary to properly

dispose of files, classified and memorabilia. All 3TFW

memorabilia was sent to 11 AF/XP. The remaining items

from the Fort Stotsenburg museum and the history offices

were sent to the main office at Maxwell A~B. The final

historical report will be handled by HO PACAF/HO.

5. Military Personnel:

A. Mission Essential List: A personnel roster was

designed to ensure accountability of the Clark population

after the evacuation. It was used to track arrivals and

departures. This list was utilized in the absence of the

PDS.

B. Assignment Action Team: This team comprised

members from HO AFM PC, HO PACAF and HO MAC.

They were requested to ensure all mission essential personnel received assignments and orders in hand in the

event another evacuation was necessary. The team provided on-the-spot assignments with a high level of satisfaction. By having all personnel on assignment, it facilitated the shipment of automobiles and household goods

and allowed the movement of dependents evacuated to

move to their PCS location.

C. Awards and Decorations: End-of-tour (E~ and

F i e ry Vigil decorations were mass pro c e s s e d .

Commanders made recommendations for the level of

award which were approved by the decoration authority

(13AF/CC or 3TFW/CC). Certificates and citations were

typed by the units and then processed. In excess of 4000

decorations were processed.

D. Records: A five person team was sent to Kadena

AB, Japan with the Unit Personnel Record Group (UPRG),

medical and dental records to ensure the records‘survival

and to forward records to gaining bases. If the end assignment/location was unknown, the records were sent to HQ

PACAF/DPA. All 353S0W and 624MA5G records were

left at Kadena because these units‘servicing CBPO was

redesignated to that location. Remaining medical and

dental records were transferred to the Kadena Clinic for

final disposition.

The 3d Mission Support Squadron (3d MSSQ), had

an enormous task-- one unlike any other mission support

squadron has ever encountered. Up front, the requirements were uncertain, the hours were long, there were

many errors; but, fortunately, the men and women of the

3d MSSO performed exceedingly well, which allowed

this base to close ahead of schedule. The primary function

of the 3d MSSQ was to run all of the military and civilian

personnel programs, and manage the Inform a t i o n

Management process for the base. Our biggest challenge

was to account for people--knowing where our people

were, when they had to leave, where they were going, getting them moved to the right places (and often that translated to a new building or shelter), and reporting this

information--accurately--to our leadership.

We did not have a computer system. The Advanced

Personnel Data System (PDS) couldn't be used and this

system was our mainstay in tracking and moving people.

Unfortunately, by evacuating thousands of people our

PDS became unreliable and we did not have the time nor

the talent to fix it. As an alternative, we built a database

using a 10 Jun 91 PDS data file, and then kept using this

database on a PC. We would channel rosters by unit to the

unit commanders and then the commanders reported to

us changes in strength. The ultimate “headcount” became

the only way to track people. All other personnel management actions were dictated by this database which

became known as the Mission Essential List. It became

widely known as our “Bible” and without it we would

have surely failed.

If there was any lesson learned about surviving--in a

personnel sense--during this natural disaster and subsequent rapid closure, it was accountability. From dropping

assignments and port calls on each Ash Warrior, to notifying them of promotions, to tracking them down on the

weekend to advise them of a death in the family, a personnel agency had to have a handle on where the people

were.

MORALE, WELFARE and RECREATION

In accordance with PACAF directives, MWR equipment that was considered to be in good condition and was

requested by other PACAF bases was packaged and

shipped. Guam was the primary port with some items forwarded directly to other PACAF bases. Items shipped

included such things as athletic equipment, childcare

Center equipment, Golf equipment, Open Mess equipment, paper products and other recreational items. Other

items not suitable for shipment were sold or transferred to

Subic Bay Naval Station.

Selected MWR assets were put up for sealed bids:

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T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
NAF horses, kitchen equipment, bowling equipment and

supplies, Arts and Crafts equipment and supplies, airplanes, MWR vehicles and other related NAF equipment.

The bid openings were observed by the legal office and

NAFFMB personnel.

MWR was tasked to contact private organization officers to dissolve all private organizations at Clark. This

required considerable time and effort to locate the officers, get dissolution letters submitted and close out each

account legally.

A consolidated sales store was created to sell excess

resale inventories and NAF property. It was determined

that it would be more cost effective to sell the goods, even

at reduced prices, than to attempt to redistribute the items

to other Air Force bases. To redistribute these goods, we

would have had to determine where the items were needed, possibly split the inventories to fill the requirements,

pay to have the items packaged and shipped and chance

spoilage, loss or damage during shipment and handling.

Items were consolidated into one account and sold

through the consolidated sales store beginning on 16 Jul

91. Prices on resale items ranged from “cost” to “50 percent of cost,” depending on the type of item, age, condition, etc. Limited quantities of NAF property from billeting activities were also included in the sales. The sales

store remained open until 15 Nov 91, with $381,000 collected.

Following “Fiery Vigil,” many MWR NAF employees

were brought back for duty. Some were used to clean up

and reopen facilities (i.e., The Airmen's Club, Golf Course

and Jose's, tennis courts, Liberty Gym, etc.), and others

were used to clear debris, stage equipment to be shipped

and protect facilities. In all about 600 employees worked

between July and October. Effective 1 Nov 91, all employees were terminated and on 2 Nov 91 approximately 450

MWR NAF employees were rehired on a temporary intermittent status. These employees were used to operate

club, golf, gymnasium, etc., facilities, accomplish the

final payroll and financial statement closeout and complete final pack-up and shipping of equipment. All

employees received their final pay, separation pay and

bonuses by 22 Nov 91.

OPERATIONS

Upon completion of Operation Fiery Vigil, the mission of the 3d TFW Operations Division was to support

the 3d TFW Mission Objectives by accomplishing the following actions:

1. Conduct safe helicopter operations with three

assigned UH-1 Ns

2. Continue base operations and command post

functions

3. Assess damages to 3 TFW/DO and 6200 TFTG

facilities and equipment

4. Protect remaining assets

5. Pack and ship household goods for assigned

personnel

6. Pack and ship/turn in mission essential equipment

7. Train PAF operations personnel in base operations functions

8. Turn over assigned facilities to PAF

All actions were successfully completed. The following organizations terminated operations at Clark AB

on or before 26 Nov 91:

3d TFW/DO: 3d TFW/OTF/DOC/OTM, 3d TFS, 90th

TFS.

6200 TFTG: 6200 TFTS, 1st TESTS, 3d TEWTS.

Memorabilia for the 3TFW and the 9OTFS were sent

to Elmendorf AFB, and 62OOTFTG's were sent to Eielson

AFB.

Helicopter Ops: Three UH-1 Ns flew over 350 successful sorties in support of the US Geological Survey

(volcanologists), VIPs, 13 AF/CC, mission support (medevac), and aircrew training. Superb helicopter maintenance by Kay Associates resulted in a 99% in-commission rate. Helicopter Operations terminated on 26 Nov 91

with a final sortie flying 13 AF/CC and 3 TFW/CC from

Clark AB to NAS Cubi Pt.

Command Post: During the close down phase at

Clark AB, the Command Post mission was to coordinate/compile data (SITREP, POV issues, household

goods), to provide liaison with staff agencies, and to host

distinguished visitors to the briefing area. Operations terminated on 26 Nov 91.

Base Operations: Base operations trained PAF personnel and provided augmentation personnel to successfully complete the shipment of HHGs at Clark AB and

POVs at Naval Station Subic Bay. USAF base operations

terminated 22 Nov 91.

3 TFS/9OTFS: All HHGs were shipped for evacuated

personnel and recoverable mission essential equipment

was turned in to supply.

6200 TFTG: The LORAL (Ford) Aerospace Crow

Valley Range contract was terminated on 30 Aug 91 after

the successful recovery, pack-out, and shipment of over

200 million dollars worth of high value equipment (threat

emitters, radars, vehicles, etc.). Contracts for drone and

tracking operations at Wallace AS were terminated effective 30 Sep91.

6200 TFTS: Conducted a unit move to Alaska and

transferred all mission essential equipment to Eielson

AFB and Elmendorf AFB for use in conducting Cope

Thunder-type large force training exercises.

1 TESTS: Terminated Combat Sage drone operations

at Wallace AS and shipped assets lAW HQ PACAF/DOO

direction. Inactivated 1 TESTS 30 Sep 91.

3d TEWTS: Successfully closed Camp O'Donnell AS

and transferred the facility to the P~F on 16 Sep 91.

Squadron inactivated 1 Oct 91.

PLANS

Agreements: Once notified of Clark's withdrawal and

closure, requested waiver to the 180 day termination notification required by AFR 11-4 and DOD 4000.1 9R. Approval received from HO PACAF/LGX 142050Z Aug 91.

Cancellation notification and required documents (DD

Form 1144/AF Form 149) were distributed Sep91 to the

suppliers/receivers of all current Interservice Support

A g reements, Host-Tenant Support Agreements and

Memorandum of Understandings for action. Updated the

S u p p o rt Agreement Analysis Program Report upon

receipt of signed DD Form 11 44/AF Form 149 and forwarded the final report and wing agreements files to HO

PACAF/LGX, 15 Nov 91. Forwarded a processing instruction letter to all units and any final closure correspondence will be forwarded to HO PACAF/LGX after closure

of Clark AB.

War Reserve Material Program: Directed the inventory, recovery and shipment of over 7500 War Reserve

Material assets. Despite the evacuation of nearly all of the

account custodians, the inability to produce automated

account documentation and the collapse of the warehous117

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
es and storage areas, 97 percent of this critical combat

capability value at over $265 million was recovered. Final

disposition of these assets was provided in the 29 Aug 91

Clark AB War Reserve Material (WRM) Program Closure

Report. Due to the need to quickly recover and ship these

items, most assets were shipped to Andersen AFB, Guam,

for subsequent redistribution. The WRM Closure Report

serves as the official written document for the closure of

Clark AB's WRM program, and was forwarded to HO

PACAF/LGX for their information/action.

Operations Plans: All 3TFW classified plans were

rescinded 27 Sep 91. Remaining 3TFW plans were

rescinded effective 26 Nov 91. All Top Secret documents

accounted to 3TFW/DOX were destroyed 6 Jul 91.

POSTAL

The Clark AB postal service centers performed their

duties in an excellent manner during the base closure

period. With the initial “Fiery Vigil” evacuation to Subic,

the staff immediately set up postal facilities at Subic so

that the evacuated families would continue to receive full

mail service.

Upon the unit's return to Clark AB, 70 local national

employees were hired to assist the remaining postal workers in all aspects of postal services. Initial backlog of mail

took over a month to process with extensive community

volunteer support.

Each member of the “mission essential” team was

given a new PSC box number at PSC #2 to speed delivery

of their mail. Although there were some initial problems

with the change of PSC's and box numbers (this coincided with a worldwide APO number change) all problems

were worked out individually.

During the three months following the eruption the

main APO accepted 470,390 pounds of mail with meter

sales of $508,083.00. This was due to the TMO office

authorizing the “mission essential” staff priority mailing

of household goods. This action increased meter sales by

a factor of five. Full postal operations remained in effect

until 25 Nov 1991. The Manila APO has agreed to forward

all incoming Clark AB mail after 26 Nov 91 lAW

addressee's change of address instructions.

PUBLIC AFFAIRS

In the five months following the eruption of Mount

Pinatubo and the decision to withdraw from Clark, Public

Affairs escorted hundreds of national and international

media. They also gave hundreds of interviews, briefed

community leaders on the withdrawal, developed and

completed a plan to turn in equipment/drawdown the

office. Additional taskings included printing more than

100 daily Philippine Flyers, and completing end of tour

reports and decorations for current and departed office

members. Public Affairs did the narration and escorted

media for the turnover ceremony on 26 Nov 91.

SECURITY

The 3d Security Police Group (SPG) faced the challenge of reducing its personnel and equipment while

maintaining the security integrity of the base. This unique

p rotection/attrition dilemma re q u i red a non-standard

solution. Before releasing any resources, the Group identified comprehensive base protection re q u i re m e n t s

through 26 Nov 1991. This was necessary because of

Clark Air Base's history of having the highest criminal statistics of any base in the U.S. Air Force.

When magnified by the Mt Pinatubo disaster and

severe economic devastation, local national intruders

became desperate and considerably more aggressive. The

solution chosen, to drawdown security police personnel

and equipment while continuing a high degree of security, required two plans.

The first plan enabled the 3d SPG to fully implement

its Air Base Ground Defense (ABGD) plan for the installation. The base was sectorized, troops were assigned to

permanent areas of operation within the sectors, and an

overriding emphasis was placed on detection through the

use of tactical sensors, night vision equipment, trip flares,

military working dogs, military horse patrol teams, and

the continued use of “CYCLOPS”--a PAVE TACK infrared

pod mounted on top of the control tower. Philippine Air

Force Security Police, Philippine National Police and

Philippine Army units were closely integrated into the

defense system providing better security for Clark AB and

its personnel. The ABGD structure permitted a flexible

protection concept that could adapt quickly as intruders

changed their tactics. The results were unprecedented

with successful thefts cut to one third of the pre-eruption

rates. This was accomplished while the number of

attempted intrusions soared to between 5 to 10 times previous levels. The 3 SPG detected over 2,000 intruders,

apprehended over 350 offenders and recovered property

in over 140 instances worth in excess of 25 million dollars.

The second plan determined the reduction rate of SP

personnel by tying port call dates to the turn-over of facilities to the Philippine Air Force. Critical security police

equipment was also maintained with specific security

requirements in mind. Again, the results were positive.

Over 980 SP personnel and 10 million dollars worth of

equipment were shipped out within established critical

time criteria.

SERVICES

The 3d Services Squadron had numerous dissolution

and structuring decisions to make during the closure of

US operations at Clark AB. We had to determine the

disposition of various Non-Appropriated Fund (NAF)

properties. NAF large appliances and furniture were

turned over to DRMO or transferred to US Government

agencies remaining in the Philippines. Small NAF appliances, supplies and furniture were sold to the remaining

mission essential force. Property in Chambers Hall (televisions, video players, etc.) was left in place to provide

comfortable living quarters for personnel remaining until

26 Nov 91.

Approximately 1 million dollars of Cebu furniture

not yet shipped to Clark was shipped directly to Guam.

Also, seventeen Sea-Land containers of this furniture

were shipped from Clark housing supply to Guam. The

Cebu furniture in the new dormitories was left in place,

although it was offered to the US Navy.

Computer components (SIMS) for automated billeting, food service and housing supply, valued at $800,000

were shipped to Guam for distribution within PACAF.

Dining Facility (appropriated funds) equipment

was left in place or transferred to US units remaining in

the Philippines, with the exception of relatively new,

brand new or high value items such as reach-in refrigerators and deep fat fryers. These exceptions were shipped

from Clark for further disposition within PACAF.

All mortuary equipment, transfer cases and assorted

chemicals were shipped to Kadena AB.

One Sea-Land container with four DV (Distinguished

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T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
Visitor) suites of furniture and appliances was shipped to

Guam. Another container of Thomasville furniture, hideaway beds and linens was also shipped to Guam.

Seven Sea-Land containers of laundry equipment

and supplies were shipped to Kadena AB. Remaining

equipment was turned over to DRMO.

S q u a d ron personnel perf o rmed their jobs in an

exemplary manner. They went the extra mile to ensure

remaining forces at Clark had suitable quarters, nutritious

meals and furniture for their quarters. The military and

civilian employees within the 3d Services Squadron can

be proud of their accomplishments.

NOTE: “Cebu” furniture refers to local purchase furniture procured by contract from Cebu City, Philippines.

The contract existed prior to the eruption of Mt. Pinatubo,

but had only been partially fulfilled.

SUPPLY

The 3d Supply squadron overcame severe limitations in the Clark AB drawdown. Challenges included the

loss of computer operations, collapse of five major warehouses, loss of the main administrative building, mudflows which threatened to isolate or partially destroy the

Hill Storage Area and its bulk fuel tanks and a sharp

reduction in military manning.

Planning was the first step towards meeting the 120-

day drawdown deadline. To ensure the expeditious shipment of high value equipment and recovered warehouse

inventory, a decision was made to use a manual system

for supply transactions and not to try to resume normal

computer processing. This manual system would maintain an auditable transaction trail with documentation

c a refully controlled and filed. The normal supply

squadron organization was abandoned and reorganized

by closure function to emphasize that closure was now

the primary mission.

The squadron relocated its administrative functions

and converted remaining facilities for new uses. To offset

the shortage of military personnel, qualified local national employees were rehired and a 26-person Rapid Area

Distribution Support (RADS) team arrived to aid both

supply and transportation. Recovery tapes processed just

prior to the volcano evacuation were uploaded at Kadena

AB to reestablish the database. This database was initially used to generate reports and later used by squadron

personnel sent to Kadena to adjust financial and supply

records.

With the squadron reorganized and accountability

procedures were set, initial focus was on three primary

areas: first, continued mission support, from MICAP parts

to sandbags; second, re c o v e ry of supply ware h o u s e

stocks; and third, the identification, turn-in and shipment

of high value organizational equipment. Recovery of fuel

from the hill storage area was not initially planned due to

concerns for personnel safety. The fuels drawdown was

also a success. Cryogenics plants were dismantled and

shipped for use within PACAF. In October, when the

PACAF/LG staff recommended the recovery of JP-8 and

MOGAS from the Hill Storage Area, over 2.2 million gallons of fuel worth over $2 million were moved by contractor operated trucks to Naval Station Subic Bay.

The warehouse recovery effort was an unqualified

success. The most optimistic early estimates were that 50

to 70 percent of the pre-eruption inventory might be

recovered. The squadrons warehouse team, aided greatly

by the TDY RADS team, recovered an estimated 90 percent ($191 million).

The equipment turn-in program was also successful.

Units were given copies of their accountable equipment

listings (CA/CRLs) and instructed to identify items as

either high value/critical and worthy of shipment or as

low value/bulky to be left in place. By establishing schedules for initially turning in non-mission essential equipment, the turn-in team was able to meet the 120-day deadline while recovering approximately $145 million worth

of high value equipment. Items left in place were expendable items and low value/bulky accountable equipment

that were included as part of the excess defense articles

package given to the Philippine government.

TRANSPORTATION

Upon return from the evacuation site, we found

severe destruction. The new TMO building had collapsed,

files and equipment were destroyed, the runway was

closed and would remain closed, the HHG agents off-base

facilities and equipment were destroyed, bridges connecting Clark and Subic were collapsed, the roads on-base in

the housing areas were frequently impassable and homes

were inaccessible due to mud flow around the doors, etc.

In order to expedite the packout of all personal property, we made available facilities and equipment to the

HHG agents to include line haul of seavans. At first, we

had them sharing warehouse space. Eventually we were

able to have each agent in his or her own area. We did this

by assigning each contractor a USAF aircraft hangar. As

we found the extra space for them, their capacity to pickup increased. We also coordinated closely with them to

ensure they would not run out of packing materials. We

opened a dorm to the agents to house their people in so

they could get more working hours into the day. All personal property left the base in Type II containers inside of

sealed seavans. We sent survey teams consisting of

lawyers and TMO personnel to each house to determine

who lived there, how much was damaged, how much

could be shipped, etc.

We were concerned that the Navy would not be able

to support both theirs and our movement requirements. In

o rder to provide expeditious movement of personal

property, we decided to ship it all code 4, because the port

of Manila had a higher capacity. We knew we would have

tremendous numbers of containers of government property that would move out of Subic and we didn't want to

bottle-neck their system. Also, the road to Subic was not

guaranteed to stay open; Subic had suffered volcano damage and their single crane to load ships was questionable.

In order to allow HHG agents to focus on their effort

and gain efficiency, we as-signed specific areas to each

agent. Because 2/3 of the base had evacuated, we had

“house sitters” who stayed with the movers so there was

a blue suit presence in the home, representing the member. We built a plan centered on security and flood/lahar

damage. We moved the higher risk areas first and moved

strictly lAW the area concept, rank was irrelevant.

When it was decided to evacuate all the personal

property from homes we decided to go commercial vice

bring in TDY military or pack the homes out with local GI

labor. When Panama was evacuated they used GI's and

sustained a very high breakage rate. Because personal

property is so important to the member, we decided to go

commercial and help the commercial industry in every

way we could to get their capacity up and provide a quality move for our members. Also, the base infrastructure

was inadequate for an influx of additional people.

In order to benefit from concentration of effort and

maintain physical security for our customs personnel and

house sitters we decided to ship out all on-base HHG

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T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
before working off-base. The roads to the subdivisions

were not clear, bridges were out, the rainy season was

upon us and it made sense to finish those areas we had

absolute control over while the details of gaining access to

off-base homes was worked out.

Abandoned POV's were treated as a claim issue vice

forced shipment. The vehicles had sustained major damage and the vehicles which were at Subic were being force

evacuated because they were interfering with the Subic

clean up. We would not ship unless the member asked.

Transportation did not want to spend over $2000 to ship

“junk”-- cars valued much less than transportation cost.

Passenger movement was done Cat Y and Cat Z. Cat

'Y‘and Cat 'Z‘seats were much cheaper than using the contract CAT 'B‘flight. The Navy used our normal allocations

on the Cat 'B‘mission. This way we were able to provide a

higher level of customer service at a lower cost to the Air

Force. Only one additional contract flight was used and

that was for the expeditious movement of the final increment of personnel following the 26 Nov 91 closing ceremony.

Flooding along the road between Clark and Subic

caused delays in moving freight to the port and threatened to stop movement altogether--necessitating an alternative. Other routes to Subic were no less susceptible to

closure than the primary route. Therefore, we coordinated with NSD, MTMC, PACAF, APL, SeaLand and TMO,

Manila to establish procedures and rates to move freight

out of the port of Manila expeditiously.

HO PACAF/LGTV assessed the vehicle fleet and

found that the fleet has sustained both cosmetic and internal damage. We sent a list, by regulation number through

PACAF to Airstaff, detailing those vehicles we proposed

to leave in place. The list was approved, with minor deletions. All vehicles which HHQ originally said to ship

were shipped. Likewise, we transferred several excess

GOV's to other on-island DOD and Department of State

organizations.

WEATHER

All required suspenses were met on or before the

suspense dates. Of $877,863 of equipment (per CNCRL),

$101,377 was left in place (11.5%), mainly weather

communications equipment that was too costly to

remove. The weather radar (50K) shipped out 15 Nov 91

and the Low Resolution Weather Satellite Monitor

(Kenwood Looper -60K) on 22 Nov 91. This equipment

was kept in place as long as possible to provide reliable

data in case of a late November typhoon.

All individuals PCS'ed at or prior to their scheduled

departure date. While we encountered no real “showstoppers”, our biggest challenges were:

1) coordinating places to send equipment;

2) determining what needed to be done when;

3) managing drawdown of equipment/personnel

and associated required actions.

Part of our solution was to hold biweekly staff meetings that determined where we were, what needed to be

done and to delegate tasks.

13TH AIR FORCE

O P E R ATIONS: Following the eruption of Mt.

Pinatubo the first elements of the DCS Operations staff

returned to Clark on 26 June 91. Subsequently, building

2125 was prepared to serve as an emergency safe haven

for the entire 13AF staff and MREs and water were

stocked for a contingency. Additionally, Operations COMSEC was turned in to the 1961 CG and accounts closed.

Operation's classified documents were segregated and

prepared for destruction. Although C2 assets had moved

to Kadena the operations staff continued to coordinate

OSA support for the 13AF/CC and documented future C21 OSA re q u i rements for 13AF support at Guam.

Additionally, the transfer of USAF allocated airspace to

the US Navy was coordinated through Villamor Air Base.

13AF operations also managed the overall transfer of all

13AF headquarters equipment and furn i t u re in 13

sea/land containers to Andersen AFB, Guam.

PLANS AND PROGRAMS: Following the closure

announcement, Plans and Programs staff initiated a

review of it's classified holdings which consisted primarily of plans documents (eight safes worth of material).

Subsequently5 a systematic process was begun for the

destruction of plans which were either not critical to

13AF's mission or could be reordered from the plan OPR.

The remaining classified documents were then mailed or

sent to Guam via the Defense Courier Service as appropriate by 22 Nov 91. During this period, XP continued to

support 13AF/CC regional visits with trip books and U.S.-

Phil Politico-Military and Mutual Defense Board activities. In addition, 13AF/XP coordinated the procedures for

documenting the transfer of Wallace AS, Camp O'Donnell

and Clark AB real property and excess defense articles to

the PAF with SAF/IARP and HQ USAF/XOXXP.

CONCLUSION

In closing, these were the mission objectives that

guided our actions: safety . . . dignity . . . communication

. . . and the preservation of the heritage of the oldest continuously active fighter wing in our Air Force.

On the 26th of November, when the American Flag

was lowered for the last time and presented to

Ambassador Wisner, it was done in keeping with those

objectives and that tradition. It also marked the end of an

U.S. military presence here that started more than 90

years ago.

BRUCE M. FREEMAN

Colonel, USAF

Commander

120

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
AS OF 1700 L, 7 JUNE 1991

INTRODUCTION

Mt. Pinatubo has not erupted for over 600 years. However, recent events suggest that this could change. As

a result, U.S. and Philippine experts are closely monitoring the volcano, 24 hours a day. Also, the Clark AB

command authorities are providing this pamphlet for your use to plan accordingly.

Keep in mind that even with our best efforts, several hours may be all we have before the volcano erupts.

This might happen at any time day or night. The bottom line? To prepare in advance to ensure your safety

and the safety of your family.

This pamphlet gives you the best information based on the circumstances at the time it was printed. Your

unit is keeping an up-to-date plan with checklists and things that need to be done. Stay in contact with your

First Sergeant or Commander for information.

A final note. This pamphlet was based on a “worst case scenario” which may never happen. Your unit

will keep you informed as to how things are going on the mountain and what steps you should be taking.

Again our immediate concern is your safety.

CONTENTS

1. Where you are going.

2. What you should plan to take with you.

3. When and how you are going to get off the base (with maps).

4. What to do when you get to Subic.

5. What you will do when the emergency is over.

6. Volcano Characteristics.

7. Questions and answers.

1. Where you are going.

If we are required to evacuate, all non-essential personnel, dependents, and pets will go to Subic Naval

Base. However, with your commander/First Sgt approval you can go elsewhere if you provide them with your

address and phone number. The Navy has plans to house and feed everyone from Clark on an emergency basis.

Our immediate concern will be to get everyone safely to Subic and out of harms way. Once we are re-established at Subic, senior leadership will evaluate the situation and determine how long we will stay and whether

we return to Clark or go on to some other destination.

For off-base personnel, you are not in safe areas listen to FEN for definitive guidance.

Upon arrival at Subic, you will be directed where to go and what to do. You will be met by your organizational representative at the Subic Sampiguita Club (bldg 418) who will provide you further assistance.

2. What you should plan to take with you.

Everyone should start right now to build a “Bug-Out” kit containing what you will need. This should be

kept ready to go at all times. The list of items below gives you things to consider which you can tailor to fit your

particular circumstances.

121

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Appendix 2 VOLCANO EVACUATION PLAN PAMPHLET

Clark residents waited on the

flightline for the signal to evacuate.
ITEMS YOU NEED TO TAKE

1. Cash for each family member (both dollars andpesos)

2. I.D. cards

3. Passports/Visas

4. Ration cards (CEX)

5. Immunization records

6. Birth certificates

7. Marriage certificate

8. Toiletries

9. Three sets of clothing for each family member

10. Pillow and blanket or sleeping bag for each individual.

11. Vehicle registration and car insurance policies

12. Checkbook/Bankbook/Credit Cards

13. Personal insurance policies

14. Inventory of all household goods

15. Will (s)

16. Personal medications

17. Infant care items (diapers, toys, form u l a ,

portable crib, stroller, etc)

18. Water supply for 1 day

19. Food/snacks for 1 day

20. Food for pets (3 days) and leash

21. POVs should have 1/2 to 3/4 tank of fuel

22. Flashlights with spare batteries

23. Portable radio with spare batteries

24. Candles/matches

25. Bug repellent

26. Sun screen hats, etc.

27. First aid kit, knife, rope, tool kit

28. Toilet paper

NOTE UPON LEAVING QUARTERS:

1. Turn off all airconditioners/central air or other

ventilation devices

2. Turn off electric ranges, washers and dryers.

Keep refrigerator and freezers on.

3. Close all windows.

4. Leave some interior and all exterior lights on.

5. Lock all external doors.

3. When and how you are going to get 

off-base.

a. The following guidelines will help assure an

orderly flow from the housing areas.

b. You will be notified to leave Clark AB by:

(1) Unit recall roster

(2) Announcements on FEN

(3) Base siren sounding a steady tone for five

minutes. If this occurs, tune in to FEN

radio/TV for further information.

(4) The Security Police using their vehicle PA

system in the housing areas

(5) Giant Voice (flightline speaker system)

broadcasts

c. Once you are notified, everyone except mission

essential personnel will prepare to evacuate to Subic

Naval Station.

d. Pick up your “Bug Out” kit and use your POV to

go to the flightline following the routes on the attached

maps. Attachment 1 is the Base Evacuation Route and

Attachment 2 is the Route to Subic.

(1) Personnel with automobiles should depart immediately to the flightline area. Take everyone in your

household including your domestic help and pets. Use

the buddy system. Check the house to the right and left

of you for occupants. Do not forget anyone!

(2) Those without automobiles arrange to catch a ride

with a neighbor or squadron member. Military family

housing occupants should pick up any members they see

needing a ride. Be friendly!!

(3) Note that cabs may or may not be running.

(4) If you have been left in the housing area without

transportation, call the Sub Motor Pool 393-3341/42 or

the Security Police 393-3484.

(5) Should evacuation of off-base people become

necessary, military, contractor, DoDDS, and US civilian

personnel, and their dependents who need transportation

should report to the Quad Agency Patrol (QAP) area at

the Main Gate. Show your ID card when you arrive and

the QAP will make transportation arrangements.

e. TRAFFIC FLOW (See Maps)

(1) To prevent major traffic backups at the various

gates, families from base housing will be directed to the

flightline on three major routes. Security Police will be at

all major intersections to direct traffic smoothly.

(a) Mitchell Highway (Sector I): Houses in the

hill area west of where Mitchell intersects Anderson and

those houses south of Mitchell highway as it passes

through the main base will be directed onto the flightline

at the 1st Test/South ramp entry control point and further

directed off base

(b) Dyess Highway (Sector II). Families in the

hill area east of Mitchell highway should proceed down

Anderson or Dyess then proceed down Dyess Ave where

they will be directed to the flightline and then off base.

(c) Bong Highway (Sector III). Families in the

main base area (Sector III) will be funneled to Bong highway and then directed onto the flightline and off base.

(2) The primary exit will be through the Dau gate and

then onto the Northern Luzon Expressway. If alternate

exits/or routes are used, personnel will be directed by the

Security Police.

(3) Once you enter the expressway, head south

toward Manila. Exit at San Fernando. Turn right and

continue straight ahead through the traffic light. Your

next major turn is a Dinalupihan where you again keep

right and head toward the mountains. There will be joint

US/RP patrols at all intersections to provide assistance.

There is no need to be in a hurry- -make this a safe trip.

There will be patrols along the route to provide assistance

if you break down.

4. What to do when you get to Subic.

a. When you arrive at Subic, follow the instructions

0f the Navy personnel for quarters assignment and of AF

PERSCO personnel located in Bldg 415 (The Subic

Sampiguita Club) for inprocessing. Advance teams from

your military unit will be set up to assist you. Provide

your name, organization, SSAN, names of family members with you, and of any who may be missing.

b. After you inprocess, Subic will provide transportation to your Billeting location.

c. Remember, take care of your families. Stay tuned

to the various FEN AM, FM, and TV channels for more

122

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
information. You may also get official AF news from the

Manila media.

5. What you will do when the emer -

gency is over.

a. We will keep you advised, so stay tuned to FEN.

b. There are several things that could occur.

(1) Worst case, Clark Air Base would not be

habitable. Should this happen, you would stay at Subic

until the AF could make arrangements for you to leave.

Some of you would be sent to the US. Others could volunteer for a continuous overseas tour (COT) and, if there

is a need for your specialty, be sent to another overseas

base. Since volcano damage would be considered total,

you would need to make your personal property claims

through the legal office. In this case, legal personnel

would be available to assist you. We will let you know

over FEN how to contact legal to make your claims.

(2) Best case, we could return to Clark. Upon

return, carefully inventory your belongings and check for

damage. You have the right to make a claim for damaged

or missing items. Leadership requests you report all facilities damage to civil engineering personnel, but otherwise

begin cleaning up your immediate area. We'll provide

you information on what to do first to minimize possible

damage or injury. Again, listen to FEN for further guidance.

6. Volcano Characteristics

a. Ash. Fine material blasted aloft by a vertical

explosion from the volcano that could reach an altitude of

12 or more miles. As the ash cloud spreads it could be

dense enough to screen out nearly all sunlight. While ash

will be deposited over an enormous area, the heaviest

deposits will be on the downwind side of the volcano.

Ash is a hazard to driving and all things of a mechanical

or electronic nature, including telephones, computers,

and aircraft.

b. Pyroclastic Flows. Are hot, often incandescent

mixtures of volcanic fragments and gases that sweep

along close to the ground. Depending on the volume of

material, proportion of solids to gas, temperature, and

slope gradient, they can travel in excess of 100K/H. They

are extremely destructive and deadly because of their

high temperature, which ranges from 450 to 1000 degrees

C.

c. Mud Flows. Are mobile mixtures of volcanic

debris and water. Where water is available to erode and

transport the loose deposits of debris, that are very

destructive, could begin within 50 minutes after the start

of an eruption, and will follow existing river channels.

d. Lava Flows. Are molten rock that emerge from

volcanoes. They are very hot, but move very slowly, and

are not a factor at Clark.

e. Projectiles. Are airborne products of a volcanic

eruption that could be hurled a distance of about 10K

from the volcano. We plan to move you well outside that

area and provide you with an additional margin of safety.

7. Questions and Answers

1. How long will the eruption last, assuming it does

erupt?

It could be for a day or from two to three months or

more.

2. Can the volcano emit water and what happens if

it does?

Not this volcano. However, rainfall could cause very

dangerous mud flows and/or flash floods down local valleys.

3. If it erupts, how far could it hurl projectiles?

While it is impossible to predict accurately, pieces of

rock weighing several tons could be blasted up to ten

Kilometer.

4. Are fissures in the earth possible?

Yes. They could open and close very quickly, but

there is no danger of this at Clark. The greatest danger is

on Mt Pinatubo, where we shouldn't be under any circumstance.

5. What is the nature of a lava flow?

As you know, lava is liquid rock that has all the characteristics of fluids. As it flows down hill, it will follow

the sloping terrain. Occasionally, a river of lava will split

and split again, only to rejoin later trapping all those

unfortunate enough not to have gotten away. Those

trapped will probably die from either the heat or asphyxiation. However, it is very slow moving and we don't

expect much of this from this volcano.

6. Could this volcano explode like Mt St Helens? If

so what would it be like?

Volcanoes are unpredictable. We think it could

explode because all volcanoes have that possibility given

the right circumstances. If it does, the noise of the explosion would probably be heard throughout Luzon, and

possibly in Viet Nam. The blast could be up to or in

excess of 100 miles per hour and carry temperatures from

450 to 1000 degrees (centigrade)

7. Is there any danger from the sulfurous air?

It depends. In small quantities, there is not much

danger. The human nose will detect hydrogen sulfide in

trace quantities, but there are no medical effects. Sulfur

dioxide is a respiratory irritant. Both chemicals are being

monitored in the air and will be posted similar to smog

alerts in LA. Alerts will be announced on FEN.

8. How many active volcanoes are there in the

world?

There are about 500 active ones at this time. Several

thousand are extinct, while others located under the sea,

both active and extinct, are unknown.

9. Isn't this like the volcano in Hawaii? Why should

I be concerned?

While all volcanoes are related in their potential for

destruction, some are reasonably predictable. The volcanoes in Hawaii have been active for some time. We know

what to expect from them. Others, like Pelee on the

Caribbean island of Martinique, exploded violently

killing over 30,000 in one day. Two years later, just as

people were beginning to return, it erupted violently

again, this time killing over 2,000. Another volcano,

Krakatoa, on an island between Java and Sumatra exploded violently and the blast was heard over a thousand

miles away. The volcano destroyed itself and the island.

Mt Pinatubo is relatively unpredictable, since it hasn't

erupted in over 500 years. The magma from Pinatubo is a

thick, explosive type; while that from Hawaii is a fluid,

relatively non-explosive type. Not knowing exactly what

type eruption to expect, we must proceed cautiously,

advise everyone to be concerned, and to plan for the

worst. If the eruption is less than it could be, we will all

be relieved.

10. How long would we have to stay away before we

are allowed to return to Clark? What if we can't come

back?

123

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
We will have to determine this based upon USGS

analysis and senior management judgement. If the base is

habitable, we'll let you return as soon as it is safe for you

to do so.

If the base is destroyed, or the decision is made that

we should not return for reasons that we have not yet considered, we will either transport you to another US military installation, such as Hickam for reassignment, or

reassign you from Subic.

11. What will become of all our things? Can we go

back and get them'?

If the base is habitable, you'll be allowed to return to

your quarters. When you return, carefully inventory your

items and report damage or loss to the legal office.

If the base is not habitable, you will not be allowed

to return. You should then file a claim with the legal

office.

12. If we evacuate Clark, can we take our domestics

and our pets?

The answer is yes. However, facilities at Subic are

limited and dedicated to US military, contractors,

DODDS, US employees, and dependents. While it is not

feasible to take domestics to Subic, it is imperative that

we not leave them behind on-base because to do so could

mean their death. They should be removed from the

housing area and, once on a safe part of base, allowed to

go their way and join their friends and family.

13. Do you anticipate a traffic problem between here

and Subic or Manila?

Absolutely. The l.5 to 2-hour ride to Subic could be

greatly extended. Based on the traffic we believe will be

on the road and assuming the road stays bi-directional,

you could expect a 6 hour plus trip. However, we are

working with Civil Defense authorities to turn the highways into “away” traffic only. That would make a two

lane single direction highway from here to Subic and as

much as a 5 or 8 lane highway into Manila, and greatly

enhance traffic flow. But you should not count on single

direction traffic. Make sure you have enough gasoline.

14. How can you ensure all people are removed from

Clark?

No system will be error proof. However, if we use

the buddy system, by that I mean check the houses to

your right and left and physically ensure no one is left

behind, we can be reasonably sure we get everyone out.

This will work day or night. The same procedure should

be used in the dorms.

Remember, we expect to have sufficient notification,

so don't panic.

-signedJOHN E. MURPHY, Colonel, USAF

Commander

124

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
ABCEDE, RUDOLFO P C

ABELLANA, JARVIS A

ABINSAY, JERRY P

ABUEG, BLESILDA C

ABUYEN, URBITO A

ACKER, BOBBY D

ADAMS, C D

ADAMS, NEWELL F

ADAMS, RONALD L

ADAMS, TRACY L

ADKINS, RICKY J

AGNEW, SEAN P

AGUILAR, RICHARD L

AGUSTIN, LEONIDES B

AINARDI, DEAN M

AINSLIE, RONALD J

ALBIN WAYNE F

ALBRIGHT, ANDREW C

ALBRIGHT, JACOUELINE 

ALDANA, B Q

ALEXANDER, M

ALFONSO, EDDIE S

ALLEN, DENNIE M

ALLEN, GARY D

ALLEN, HOLLY J

ALLEN, KERMIT D JR

ALLEN, PHYLLIS E

ALLEN, RICHARD D

ALLEN, ROBERT W

ALLGOOD, KENNETH W

ALLOWAY, VIRDA L

ALMACEN, CHEN G

ALMACEN, DWIGHT

ALMACEN, TERESITA M

ALMARAZ, REYNALDO I

ALTENBERND, R L

ALVAREZ, JOSE A

ALVAREZ, ROGER E

ALVES, RAUL J

ALVEY, RONALD E

AMASOL, TITO P JR

AMES, RICHARD S II

AMOS, JARVIS V

AMPOYO, GEOFFREY A

AMURO, ASAICHI

ANDARIN, ROSENDO I

ANDEL, JAMES

ANDEREGG, C R

ANDERSEN, LOIDA C

ANDERSON, C

ANDERSON, DANIEL L

ANDERSON, D W

ANDERSON, ERIK C 

ANDERSON, JAMES L J 

ANDERSON, JOHNNY R

ANDERSON, JUNIOR L 

ANDERSON, M W

ANDERSON, TIMOTHY A

ANDERSON, TOBIAS M

ANDERSON, WILLIAM C

ANDREWS, GARY C

ANDRZEJEWSKI, BRIAN K

ANGYAL, NOLA S

ANTHONY, JAMES E

ANTHONY, LEWIS

ANTOINE, DEBBIE J

APODACA, ISIDRO

APPLEWHITE, JESSE E IV

ARCADI, TIMOTHY W

ARCHBOLD, BRET E

ARD, TIMOTHY D

ARELLANO, HERMINIO M

ARENAS, MARCOS A L M

ARMFIELD, HARVEY L

ARMSTRONG, WILLIAM F

ARRIETA, JAIME

ARROJADO, GLENNA M

ARROYO, PIO S III

ARTHUR, LOUIS W

ARVIN, DANIEL

ASH, GUY P

ASHBAUGH, DONALD E JR

ASHLEY, SCOTT C

ASHMORE, GARY A

ASTLE, LAWRENCE D JR

ATCHLEY, CHARLES Y

ATIENZA, PROSPERO JR

AURELIO, HONORIO F JR

125

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Appendix 3 MISSION ESSENTIAL LIST AS OF JULY 20, 1991 

Ash Warriors received briefings

on what to expect.
AUSTIN, TYPONE JR

AUZENNE, JAMES H

AVENA, DAVID M

AVRITT, CHARLES E

AYRES, RONALD L

AYZE, THOMAS M

BABER, DANIEL S

BABICS, RONALD J

BABIN, JAMES M

BACHER, GREGORY D

BADER, ROBERT E JR

BAGBY, LARRY P

BAILEY, CHRISTOPHER L

BAILEY, EDWARD A

BAILEY, JOHN E JR

BAINBRIDGE, JAMES W

BAKER, JAMES H

BAKER, JOHN E

BAKER, KARLTON L

BAKER, MARK C

BAKER, MARKE A

BALDWIN, DAVID C

BALDWIN, HOWARD D

BALEY, JOHN F

BALISI, EFREN C

BALL, GARY A

BALLENTINE, STEPHEN A

BALLINGER, JEFFREY L

BALLOU, ELEANOR F

BALLUCANAG, RICHARD C

BANDELOW, JAMES J

BANEZ, ELPIDID B JR

BANKS, JOSEPH K

BANKSTON, WADE D

BAON, RAUL

BARBA, RAY A

BARCEGA, JESSE E

BARDELL, THOMAS A JR

BARE, WILLIAM H

BARGERY, CHRIS 

BARKER, STEVEN G

BARKLEY, JON P

BARKOW, LAWRENCE J II

BARNES, DARRYL D

BARNES, DAVID R

BARNES, JOE A JR

BARNES, WILLIAM E JR

BARNETT, JAMES L

BARNETT, MATTHEW J

BARNETTE, DANIEL J

BARNHART, LISA D

BARRERA, JOSE

BARRETT, LISA A

BARRETTE, RANDALL L

BARRETTO, PHILLIP

BARRON, RICHARD M JR

BARSY, DALE A

BARTA, ADRIAN C

BARTLEMUS, STEVEN P

BARTLETT, JONATHAN B

BARTLETT, LEE D P

BASS, CLEON E

BASS, TIMOTHY L

BATALON, RODERICK

BATHURST, THOMAS F

BATINO, LAUDAN J

BATOR, KRIS

BATTLE, DUSHUN 0

BAUMGARTEN, DOUGLAS 

BAUTISTA, BRADLEY E

BAXLEY, JAMLS A

BAYLOR, DIETRICK S

BAYNARD, CHARLES E

BAZAR, LOUIS A JR

BEALE, WILLIAM

BEAR, CHARLES F JR

BEASLEY, DEWEY L

BEATY, KEVIN S

BEATY MARK A

BEAUCHENE, WILLIAM R

BECK, JAMES D

BECK, MICHAEL J

BECK, TIMOTHY A

BECKER, SHELLY L

BEDARD, RYAN E

BEECH, FLOYD R

BEERS, BRYON M

BEHARRY, RONNIE T

BEHN, WILLIAM G

BELISLE, GARY R

BELL, DURWOOD A

BELL, JERI A

BEN, REYNANTE C

BENETSKY, STEPHANIE

BENNETT, CHRIS E

BENNETT, DAVID W

BENNETT, HOWARD A JR

BENNETT, MARK L

BENSON, MARY H

BENSON, PHILLIP M

BERCK, TIMOTHY D

BERGMAN, BRADLEY A

BERGREN, RANDEL L

BERRY, DARRELL E

BERRY, KELLY D

BETTIS, TEDDY L

BETZ, KENNETH R

BEXELL, SCOTT D

BIPES, JANIS L

BIPES, MICHAEL D

BIRD, JAMES W

BIRD, RALPH M

BISHOP, BRADLEY M

BISHOP, KENNETH A

BIVENS, CYNTHIA A

BIVENS, GLENN E JR

BIVINGS, LEEVAN JR

BLACHOWSKI, CHAD G

BLACKMON, JOHN M

BLACKMON, ROBERT F

BLAIR, BRIAN S

BLAIR, KENNETH D

BLAKNEY, CHARLES V

BLANCHETTE, JESSICA A

BLANKS, LAWRENCE T

BLASQUEZ, WILBERTO S

BLATUS, ANDREW S

BLESSINGER, MICHAEL J

BLOOM, RICHARD W

BLYSTAD, THOMAS J

BOBBITT, JAMES C

BOCOOK, CLARENCE R JR

BODISON, JAMES L

BODON, FRANK R JR

BOGER, WAYNE L

BOGUCKI, STANLEY J

BOLICK, ROBERT L

BOLIN, DONOVAN A

BOLTON, SCOTTIE R

BOLUS, ANNIE C

BOLUS, ROBERT

BOND, DOUGLAS W

BONIOR JOHN E

BOOKER, DAVID B

BORTZ, CHALMER R JR

BOSTICK, STEVEN F

BOSTON, LARRY D

BOULDREY, COREY A

BOULWARE, STEPHONE F

BOURGEOIS, DEBORAH A

BOWEN, BRIAN S

BOWEN, JAMES E

BOWEN, JEFFREY T 

BOWMAN DIANE M 

BOYD, JOHN C 

BOYD, PATRICK W 

BOYER, MARK D

BOYLAN, KIRK F

BOZZELLI, ALFRED C

BRACKETT, JAMES

BRAEMER, RAYMOND W JR

BRANDT MICHEL C 

BRANTING, JEFFREY G

BRANTON, JEFF

BRANTON, LAURA

BRAUD, RICHARD K

BRAZELL, ERIC J

BRAZZLE, TRACY C

BRENHOLT, MATTHEW D

BREUER, MATTHEW S

BREWER, KENNETH W

BREWER, TIMOTHY A H

BRIDGES, CHARLES R

BRIDGES, REGINALD D

BRIDGEWATER, RUSSELL L

BRIGGS, BOBBY S

BRIGGS, KENNETH M

BRISLEY, KENNETH E

BRISLEY, KEVIN E

BRISSETTE, ROGER M

BRITT, THOMAS H

BRITTON, JOSEPH A

BRITTON, MARIO D

126

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
BROECKER, JON E

BROOKS, BRIAN J

BROOKS, DAVID O

BROOKS, FORD A

BROOKS, RICHARD M

BROOME, KENNETH A

BROTHERS, EUGENE A

BROWDER, JAMES F

BROWER, BRUCE

BROWN, CLARENCE G

BROWN, DAVID D

BROWN, JAMES E

BROWN, LARRY A

BROWN, MICHAEL T

BROWN, MORGAN D

BROWN, ROBERT J JR

BROWN, STEVEN E

BROWN, TIMOTHY L

BROWN, WILLIAM E

BRUCE, DESI W

BRUCE, RICHARD J

BRUCE, TERENCE C

BRUDER, RICHARD P

BRUKWICKI, STEVEN E

BRUNO, PAUL J JR

BRUTON, GLEN W

BRYANT, HEATHER J

BRYANT, HENRY A

BRYANT, MIKE A

BRYNER, STEVEN J

BRYSON, CHRISTOPHER L

BUCANEG, RUFINO JR

BUCKMASTER, ROY C JR

BUENSUCESO, RENATO A

BUFFINGTON, JAY R

BUIKUS, ROBERT J

BUMGARNER, RALPH I

BURGESS, LAWRENCE J

BURKE, RICHARD D

BURKE, WILLIAM P JR

BURKETT, STEVEN D

BURNETT, LAPARIS

BURNETTE, JAMES S

BURR, JOSEPH W

BURROWS, ALFRED D

BURT, ALAN

BUSH, ANDRE C

BUSH, MARK J

BUSH, TIMOTHY E

BUSHEY, DEAN E

BUSSEY, JONATHAN

BUTLER, DARRIN C

BUTLER, GREGORY R

BUTLER, PHILLIP C

BUTLER, SCOTT D

BUTLER, WAYNE L

BUXTON, MARTHA J

BUXTON, ROBERT G

BYERS, RODNEY L

BYFORD, RICHARD L

BYRD, REX A

CABALLERO, ARSENIO V

CABANA, ISABELITO M

CABANERO, CHARLES E

CADALBERT, MARK A

CADLE, CLAYTON D

CALAHAN, RANDO B

CALALO, DANNIE

CALBAY, ALDY M

CALES, ROBIN L

CALEY, CHARLES W JR

CALHOUN, JOHN G

CALHOUN, MICHAEL R

CALHOUN, ROBERT K

CALLAIS, CHRISTOPHER M

CALLAN, KEVIN T

CALLOWAY, RODNEY

CALVERT, JAMES L

CAMACHO, ENRIQUE

CAMERON, RICHARD N

CAMPBELL, BRUCE I

CAMPBELL, LARRY S

CAMPBELL, ROBERT A

CAMPBELL, ROBERT R JR

CAMPBELL, WELDON R

CAMPLIN, JON

CAMPOS, HELIODORO J

CANAGUIER, ROBERT M

CANALES, JESUS M JR

CANDA, RAMON D

CANLAS, JORGE N

CANNELLA, ARTURO A

CANNON, DOUGLAS

CANNON, JAY R

CANTRELL, DONALD R

CANTU, JUAN G

CAPPS, ALBERT T

CAPUNO, LEE M

CARBNO, MICHAEL J

CARDENAS, ISRAEL

CARDENAS, LOTHAR G

CAREY, DEANA M

CARGES, MICHAEL R

CARINO, ART

CARLSON, THOR

CARMACK, ROY J

CARMICHAEL, CORY D

CAROTHERS, SAMUEL C

CARPENTER, SHERRI A

CARPENTER, TERRY G

CARREON, EDGARDO D

CARRINGTON, ROYLE

CARROLL, DOUGLAS F 

CARSLEY, JOE

CARSON, EDWARD J

CARSWELL, KEVIN A

CARTER, ANGELA L

CARTER, PATSY S

CARTER, ROBERT D

CARTWRIGHT, TYRONE

CARUTHERS, SEAN S

CASDEN, MARC F

CASEM, MANUEL I

CASEY, MARGARET H

CASTILLO, ADONIS B

CASTILLO, DANTE A, CHRISTOPHER J

CHEEK, JAMES H III

CHERRY, JOHN E

CHERRY, MELANIE SUE

CHERRY, SCOTT A

CHISSEM, DENICE A

CHRISTENSEN, JEFFERY A

CHRISTIE, WALTER C JR

CLARK, HARRY

CLARK, HENRY J

CLARK, JACK M JR

CLARK, RICHARD C

CLARK, RGNALD E

CLARK, TOMMY JR

CLAYBROOKS, CLIFTON JR

CLAYTON, CORNELIUS F III

CLEEK, DANIEL W

CLEGG, JOHN D

CLEMENSON, MICHAEL J

COLE, JOHN F

COLE, JOSEPH H JR

COLEMAN, RUFUS W JR

COLEMAN, TRAVIS

COLHOUER, RAYMOND T

COLLINS, CALVIN C

COLLINS, KEVIN A

COLLINS, TERRY D

COLSON, DAVID M

COMEAUX, ROBERT M

COMER, JEFFERY L

COMMITTEE, DENNIS M

COMPTON, DENNIS L

COMPION, VERNON

CONCORD, ALBERT L

CONE, ROBERT J

CONGDON, WILLIAM A

CONGER, RICHARD A

CONNELL, POLLY A

CONNERS, STEVEN L

CONNOLLY, ANNETTE

CONSUEGRA, EDWARD S

CONTRERAS, DAVID

CONVERSE, MICHAEL S

COOK, MICHEAL R

COOK, PAUL

COOPER, DAVID J SR

COOPER, JOHN R

COOPER, PAMELA D

COPERTINO, DANIEL

COPPEDGE, DARRELL W

CORBETT, CLARENCE A

COREY, JAMIS L

CORIELL, DENNIS

CORLEE, KENNETH L

CORLISS, WALTER F II

CORNELL, MATTHEW J

CORNS, EDDIE R

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CORNWELL, BRUCE A

CORPUZ, DANILO M

CORWIN, ARTHUR J

COSTON, CAREY L 

COTTER, ALBERT L 

COTTLE, JAMES E

COTTMAN, BARRY

COTTON, RAYMOND E

COUGHLIN, CORY A

COUGHLIN, RICHARD

COUNTY, WILLIE JR

COUPLAND, JAMES P

COURTRIGHT, PAUL F

COUTEE, JOE H JR

COWART, ROBERT J JR

COX, MELVIN

CRABTREE, DAVID E

CRAMER, KENNETH A

CRAVEN, ROBERT P

CREEL, MICHAEL H

CRESPO, WIEFREDO

CRESS, GARY W

CROCKETT, KEVIN M

CROMARTIE, CHARLIE C

CROOK, LINCOLN S

CROOMS, STEPHEN C

CROSS, KEITH A

CROWE, MARVIN E II

CROZIER, DONALD E JR

CRUMBO, KEVIN M

CRUZ, ROBERT C

CUEVA, LORETO N

CULBERTSON, DANIEL R

CULBRETH, ROBERT S

CUMMINGS, JOHN C

CUMMINGS, TOOD L

CUNNINGHAM, BRIAN K

CUNNINGHAM, JAMES W JR

CUNNINGHAM, LESTER

CURRIE, SHAWN D

CURRY, BRETT A

CURRY, WILLIAM P JR

CURTIS, LESLIE D

CUTSHAW, JERRY D

CZWALINA, PAUL P

DADE, FRANK E

DAITCH, SHELDON

DALE, JIMMIE D

DALE, STEPHAN H

DALTON, AMY E

DALTON, JUDY D

DALTON, SCOTT F

DALY, THOMAS J

DAMBITIS, TAMMY D

DAMEWOOD, GERALD L

DANIELS, WILLIAM J

DANNA, ANGELA M

DANZ, EDWARD J

DARBY, KENNETH R

DARKEY, ROBERT W II

DARR, DAVID S

DASSLER, WILLIAM H

DATAR, EDGARDO A JR

DAUFEN, WILLIAM K

DAVENPORT, KEVIN L

DAVILA JERRY R

DAVIS, CHRISTOPHER R

DAVIS, DAVID M

DAVIS, DAVID T

DAVIS, DWRIGHT J

DAVIS, GERALD A JR

DAVIS, IRVING A

DAVIS, JAMES M

DAVIS, JEFFREY W

DAVIS, JERRY J

DAVIS, JOHNNY L

DAVIS, KEITH D JR

DAVIS, KEVIN J

DAVIS, KEVIN L

DAVIS, RAYMOND S

DAVIS, REX W

DAVIS, RICHARD W

DAVIS, ROBERT E

DAVIS, STEVAN E

DAVIS, VINCENT A

DAVIS, WILLIAM D

DAVITT, DENNIS K JR

DAWSON, JOHN E

DAWSON, MARK H

DAWSON, TERRY L

DEALOIA, JOSEPH

DEAN, MARVIN R

DEANS, GREG

DEARING, FREDERICK L

DEBELLIS, PATRICK T

DELACRUZ, J C

DEEACRUZ, WILFREDO G

DELAROSA, ALLER B

DELAVEGA, DOMINIC E

DELL, KENNETH C

DELMUNDO, ISAURO B

DELUNA, EDWARD E

DEMASS, MICHAEL J

DEMONT, ENRIQUE

DEMONTE, LOUIS R

DEMPSEY, DANNY L

DEMPSEY, JEEFRY H

DENIZ, FRANCIS R L

DENNIS, WILLIE H

DENNISTON, ROBERT B

DENTON, ANTHONY E

DERLEIN, DANIEL J

DESCH, ANTHONY J

DESMOND, JOHN J

DESROCHERS, KEVIN D

DEVRIES, DAVID M

DEWEY, JAMES H

DEYOUNG, JEFFREY L

DIAL, DAVID

DICKERSON, BRIAN K

DICKERSON, LAURENCE F

DIEDRICH, PAUL F

DIEFENBACHER, STFVEN P

DIETRICH, CHRISTOPHER

DIETZ, MARK A

DIFIORI, THOMAS C

DIGANGI, WILLIAM A

DILLON, DALE M

DIRCKX, VINCENT J JR

DIRITDO, STEVE W

DISANTO, STEPHANIE

DISSELHORST, SCOTT A

DITTMER, GLENN R

DIXON, BRUCE W

DIZON, CHRISTOPHER M

DOBBINS, WILLIAM

DOBOGAI, DARRYL A

DOCTOR, DEREK L

DODD, JOSE A

DODD, KENNETH R

DOE, GERALD M

DOLPHIN, ARLENE

DOMINSKI, WILLIAM P

DONAHUE, CHRISTINE L

DONNELL, JOHNNY D

DORAM, RAPHAEL O

DORAN, ALBERT J

DORAN, MARTIN J

DORSEY, GARY B

DOUGHERTY, JOSEPH T

DOUGHTY, GORDON K JR

DOUGLAS, CHARLEE

DOUGLAS, CHARLES K

DOUGLAS, KENNETH E

DOUGLAS, STEPHEN W III

DOWNES, JOSEPH L

DOWNS, DENNIS L JR

DOYEA, THOMAS P 

DOYLE, BRIAN P

DRAEVING, JAMES E

DRAKE, GARRY D

DRAKE, HAROLD

DRAKES, LUIS A

DREW, MICHAEL G

DUARTE, JOHN S

DUBASIK, DEREK M

DUBOIS, ERIK B

DUDA, JAMES M

DUDLEY, JO A

DUERNBERGER, RODNEY L

DUFF, CLARENCE E

DUFF, ROGER L

DUFFY, BRIAN J

DUFFY, STEPHEN L

DUHART, GENTRIS Y

DUKE, CHRISTOPHER A

DUKE, RAYMOND

DUKE, ROBERT J

DUMDUMAYA, RICKY M B

DUMLAO, BASILIO F

DUMLAO, EDWIN S

DUNGAO, BASILIO R

DUNSMORE, TIMOTHY A

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DURHAM, DALE J

DUTCHER, GERALD B

DWIGGINS, DAVID W

DYE, SAMUEL R JR

EAKLE, BENJAMINE H JR

EARNEST, JOHN E

EBINGER, MARC A

ECKLES, WILLIAM J

ECKERT, RONALD G

EDDER, JERRY W

EDGAR, SCOTT M

EDMONDS, MAURICE JR

EGGERT, STEPHEN R

EIDE, ERIC J

EIKER, DAVID M

EISENHARDT, ROBERT A

ELKINS, JODY R

ELLIOTT, JASON D

ELLIOTT, ROGER A JR

ELLIOTT, TIMOTHY E

ELLIS, CARL H

ELLIS, DONALD E

ELLIS, GARRY W

ELLIS, REGINALD J

ELLISON, WILLIAM J II

ELLSWORTH, KENNETH G

ELVEY, W M

ENDERS, GARY A

ENGEL, PETER

ENGELHARDT, KENNETH E

ENGELKES, ARDEN B

ENGLISH, LILBURN JR

EPPS, MAURICE S

ERGENBRIGHT, BRENDA J

ERGENBRIGHT, WILLIAM B JR

ERIKSON, ROGER A

ERKENEFF, TERRY L

ERNST, DOUGLAS N

ESPEJO, JESUS C

ESPEJO, ROMAN H

ESPIRITU, ANGEL P

ESTABROOK, BRUCE A

ESTES, PAUL S JR

ESTIGOY, EMMANUEL L

ESTIRA, MICHAEL O

ESTRADA LUCINDAM

ETIENNE, WILTON A

ETTENFELDER, J

EVANGELISTA, DENNIS A

EVANS, ESTLE R

EVANS, KEVIN J

EVANS, LEONOLD R

EVANS, MICHAEL N

EVANS, MICHAEL W

EVANS, ROBERT E

EVERINGHAM, RICHARD O

EVERSELY, SAMUEL S

EVLITT, WILLIAM

EYMAN, MARK E

FABER, GREGORY L

FAILS, DEBORAH

FAILS, GEORGE L

FAIRFAX, DAVIS J

FALES, VICKY L

FALLEN, KEVIN E

FARIAS, ROY S

FARMER, JEFFERY C

FARMER, ROY F

FARR, STEVE M

FARRELL, GREGORY L

FARRELL, RICHARD J

FARRINGTON, PAUL A

FE LDBAUER, ROBERT R

FELDT, WILLIAM M

FELIX, JAIME D

FELLMAN, BRYAN R

FELLOWS, RONALD G

FENWICK, ROBERT W

FERNS, TODD G

FERRIS, JFFFFRY

FIELDS, STEVEN H

FILKINS, GIA L

FINEN, ALLEN L

FINNESSEY, GAIL M

FIORITO, ARMOND

FIREHAMMER, FREDRIC S

FISCHER, RODNEY J

FISHER, JACK A

FISHER, LISA M

FISHER, MARK S

FISHER, ROY L JR

FISHER, TIMOTHY R

FISHER, WILLIAM

FITZGERALD, DAVID B

FITZGERALD, RICHARD

FLAHERTY, JOHN F

FLAHERTY, THOMAS M

FLANDERS, FRED A

FLETCHER, KEITH R

FLETCHER, RICHARD E A II

FLICK, TIMOTHY G

FLINTON, TROY L

FLORENCE, PAUL M

FLORES, REX D

FLORES, ROBERT L

FLOWERS, BRIAN S

FLYNN, HUGH B

FODREA, ORMOND R

FOGERTY, JAMES P

FONDULIS, JOHN A

FORD, CHARLES L

FORD, JOSEPH F JR

FORD, KEVIN A

FORD, STANLEY JR

FORNANDER, CHRISTINA M

FORNISS, RONALD E

FORONDA, OSCAR C

FORSTER, HAROLD F

FORTE, MABLE

FORTIER, JON F

FORTIN, JOSEPH L P

FORTIN, PHILIP I

FORTSCHNEIDER, MICHAEL R

FOSTER, GARY L

FOSTER, ROBERT M

FOSTER, VICTOR D

FOUNTAIN, JOHN

FOURNIER, MICHAEL J

FOWLER, DONALD E JR

FOWLER, JOSHUA D

FOX, BRIAN O

FOX, JAMES R

FOX, ROBERT T

FRANCE, JEROME W

FRANCE, NEAL B

FRANCIS, MICHAEL B

ERANCIS, MICHAEL S

FRANCOIS, BERTELL

FRAZIER, ANTONIO

FRAZIER, EDWARD L

FRAZIER, FLOYD L

FRAZIER, JEREMIAH N

FRAZIER, STEVEN W

FREDERICK, ROBERT C

FREEDMAN, MORTON

FREEMAN, BRUCE M

FREIHAGE, RANDALL P

FRENCH, DONALD B

FRENCH, SCOTT W

FREY, DOUGLAS W

FRIES, MICHAEL P

FRIESON, VENORA Y

FROCK, JEANNIE E

FROCK, JOHN C

FROEHLING, R F

FUCHS, DAVID W

FUGIEL, DAVID J

FULLERTON, JAMES A

FULLGUM, DANIEL P

FUNKHOUSER, CHARLES L JR

FURTADO, PAUL J M

FUTCH, ARTHUR E JR

GABBERT, GRANT M

GABLE, BOB L

GABOR, KENNETH M

GADOW, WILLIAM H

GADSON, MICHAEL L

GAENG, WILLIAM J

GALATAS, LONNIE S

GALE, RONALD L

GALINDO, JESSE JR

GALLARDO, JOEL C

GALLOWAY, KERRY L

GALVEZ, ANTHONY P

GAMAB, MARIO E

GANNON, ERIN C

GARABILES, JOSE G

GARCEAU, NORMAN J

GARCIA, ALFRED R JR

GARCIA, DANIEL M

GARCIA, JEROME L

GARCIA RICARDO D

GARLAND, HUGH A

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T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
GARRETT, SHEILA K

GARRETTE, JACK L

GARRINGER, WILLIAM J

GARRISON, LON B

GARTHWAITE, RUSSELL E

GASKEW, TONY

GATTUSO, PATRICK R

GAVAGAN, VINCENT J III

GEBERT, RICHARD C

GEIL, FRANZ G III

GEMENES, ANTONIO J

GEMENES, BRIDGETTE

GEMPIS, VALENTINO

GENERETTE, DAN A

GEORGE, JAMES B

GEORGE, TROY A II

GIBB, WILLIAM E

GIBBONS, WILLIAM E

GIBBS, DANIEL R

GIBSON, ALVIN

GIGLIOTTI, ROBERT J

GILBERT, DAVID L

GILBERT, ROBERT C

GILL, JAMES A

GILLAM, JAMES P

GILLEY, MICHAEL T

GILLIAMLEE, JOCELIN O

GILSTRAP, SCOTT E

GILVIN, MARSHALL J

GIROD, SAMMIE R

GIRTEN, JOHN F

GIVENS, KEITH M

GLADDEN, THOMAS

GLEASON, JOE M

GLEASON, KENNETH E

GLENNON, PATRICK M

GLIDDEN, ROBERT M

GLISSON, RICHARD D

GLOVER, DONALD R

GLUTTING, ROBERT J

GOEBEL, DAVID S

GOELITZ, DAVID R

GOLDFARB, BRIAN G

GOMES, JOSEPH N

GONZALES, DAVID J

GONZALES, KENNEDY

GONZALES, MARK A

GONZALES, ROBERT

GONZALES, RODOLFO

GONZALEZ, DUANE B

GONZALEZ, JOSE M

GONZALEZ, RENATO A

GONZALEZ, RITO T

GONZALO, EDDIE D

GOODMAN, JAMES W

GORMAN, BRUCE T

GOTTE, PATRICK J

GRABIANOWSKI, DENNIS E

GRAF, DONNA M

GRAHAM, BRIAN

GRAHAM, DENNIS E

GRAHAM, EDWARD J

GRAHAM, TERRY S

GRANDSTAFF, SCOTT A

GRANT, RAYMOND A

GRANTHAM, DAVID D

GRAUE, WALTER H

GRAVES, MITCHELL J

GRAY, GARY G

GRAY, LAWRENCE T

GREEN, CHARLES B

GREEN, JONATHAN F

GREEN, RAY A

GREENLEE, M

GREENWOOD, WARREN T JR

GREGORIO, MYRNA

GREGORY, LEE A

GREGORY, WILLIAM C

GRESSLEY, RAYMOND E

GRIEGO, TONY A

GRIFFIN, BRYON D

GRIFFITH, RICHARD K

GRIGGS, RAYVON L

GRILLEY, VINCENT

GRIM, REGINA L

GRIME, JEFFREY R

GRIMMER, WILLIAM M

CROSSERHODE, MICHAEL A

GUAJARDO, ERNESTO B

GUBITOSI, ADAM J

GUERRA, RUBEN R JR

GUEST, JOSEPH W

GUIDRY, MELVIN J

GUILL, RICHAFLO R JR

GUILLERMO, ARNIE O

GUILLET, MICHAEL R

GUILLORY, CLARENCE P JR

GUINN, CHARLES J

GUIREY, BUTCH O

GUIRSCH, TODD M

GUNHUS, HELMER A

GUNNER, LEONARD A

GURR, ROBERT N

GUSTIN, GARY L

GUTIERREZ, CAROL E

GUTZENBACH, WILLI

GUZMANPEREZ, JOSE A

HADFIELD, RAYMOND R

HAGER, TIMOTHY J

HAGOOD, PAUL D

HAHN, BRYAN L

HAHN, STEVEN T

HAINES, JOHN A

HALL, ALMA

HALL, CHARLES R

HALL, CHRISTOPHER T

HALL, TEDDY D

HALTLI, THOMAS A

HAMADOCK, BRYAN E

HAMILTON, BRUCE E

HAMILTON, DAVID S

HAMILTON, STEVIE B

HAMILTON, TOM A

HAMMOND, MARK T

HAMMONDS, MITCHELL D

HANCOCK, ANDREW 

HAMCOCK, LADDIE K

HANEY, NICHOLAS E

HANKINS, DAVID A

HANKINS, GERALD L

HANKINS, RAYMOND

HANNEMAN, MARK S

HANSEN, GARY T

HANSING, KENNETH R

HANSON, DOUGLAS H

HAPNEY, DAVID S

HARDING, PATRICK T

HARDWICK, ROBERT W

HARGRAVE, ROBERT L JR

HARLIN, KAREN M

HARMENING, RAY D

HARMON, DANIEL W

HARMON, JERRY R

HARMON, MICHAEL L

HARMON, ROBERT D

HARRIS, DENNIS A

HARRIS, ERROL

HARRIS, GAIL P

HARRIS, GREGORY E

HARRIS, LEE N

HARRIS, MICHAEL

HARRIS, PADRAIC A

HARRIS, RI CHARD S

HARRIS, RONALD W

HARRIS, WILLIE A

HARRISON, BRIAN

HARRISON, MALCOLM T

HART, ALAN G

HART, KENTON L

HARTMAN, DONALD C

HARTMAN, LAWRENCE K

HARTNESS, DAVIS D

HARTWELL, ROBERT W

HARTZ, JOHN R

HARVEY, ALBERT B

HARVEY, PATRICK M

HARVEY, ROBERT

HARWOOD, JESSICA E

HATFIELD, PATRICK H

HAUF, ERIC E

HAUGEN, JAMES J

HAUPT, BRADLEY M

HAVARD, DAVID J II

HAVRILLA, JOHN G

HAWKS, MARK W

HAWMAN, CHARLES P

HAWS, JEFFERY L

HAYES, JEFFREY C

HAYNIE, FELECIA A

HAYS, GLYNN T

HAZELTON, WILLIAM

HEARVY, TIMOTHY A

HEDDEN, MICHAEL W

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HEDTKAMP, JAMES A

HEFFERNAN, THOMAS J

HEIDLAGE, JOEL A

HEINEMANN, DAVID G

HELMIC, ROBERT F

HENDERSON, JOHN C II

HENDRICKS, HOWARD L

HENDRICKS, RICHARD J

HENDRICKSON, JAMES W

HENRY, JEFFERY A

HENRY, KENNETH L

HENRY, WAYNE G

HENSLEY, BRIAN W

HENSON, BERNARD W JR

HERLIHY ARSENIO S

HERMAN, VICTOR P

HERN, DENNIS O

HERNANDEZ, C A

HERNANDEZ, FERNANDO R

HERNANDEZ, FRANSISCO 

HERRERA, DEAN A

HERRICK, DON A

HERRIN, ELBERT A

HERRMANN, PHILLIP J

HESS, LEON E

HESS, RICKY L

HESSLING, KORY A

HETLING, DONALD E

HICKEY, JAMES L

HICKINGBOTTOM, W P

HICKS, ALBERT D

HICKS, MAURICE V

HICKS, REGGIE T

HIGGINBOTHAM, D A

HIGGINS, DERMOTH K

HILER, MICHAEL D

HILL, DIONNA H

HILL, GARY W

HILL, RANDALL D

HILL, THOMAS O

HILL, VONDA K

HILLHOUSE, DAVID J

HILTON, HARRY E JR

HINDLE, BRYAN P

HISH, LLOYD R

HIXON, DARRELL

HOAGLUND, GARY A

HOBBY, JAY A

HODGE, JEFFREY J

HOFFMAN, JOSEPH R

HOFFMANN, MICHELLE J

HOFSOMMER, RICKI C

HOGUE, STEVEN N

HOLDEN, BENTON F III

HOLDEN, STEVEN V

HOLGUIN, ABEL C

HOLLAND, DAVID A

HOLLINGER, JAMES E

HOLLORAN, JOSEPH H

HOLLOWINSKI, DON

HOLMES, JOHN L II

HOLSBERGER, JAMES T

HOLSEY, WILLIE B JR

HOLT, RICHARD C JR

HOLVE, BRADFORD D

HOLZINGER, JAY J

HONHART, DALE T

HONKEN, BRENT A

HOOKS, VIKKI M

HOOPER, LEE E

HOOTEN, PERRY A

HOOVER, ROBERT L

HOPKINS, DWAYNE D

HOPPER, TREVOR I

HORN, STEVEN M

HORN, TONY BRIAN

HORNER, JAMES A

HORNER, RONNELL A

HORSEFIELD, C R

HORSLEY, DOYLE B

HORTIZUELA, GLEN A

HOSTETTER, ANTHONY G

HOUCHIN, RANDY W

HOWARD, FRANK S

HOWARD, FREDERICK V

HOWARD, REGINALD E

HOWARD, WALTER

HOWELL, CHARLES E

HOWELL, GARY R

HOWELL, PETER G

HOWER, PETER C

HOWIE, SPENCER J

HROBAR, RANDOLPH A

HUBBARD, TYRONE A

HUCKABY, RICHARD T

HUCKEBY, ANGELA N

HUDAK, ROBERT N

HUERECA, PHILLIP

HUGHES, DAVID M

HUGHES, JAMES A

HUGHES, JUSTIN D

HUGHES, RANDY L

HUHN, RICHARD S

HULL, PAUL R JR

HUMPHFERS, GREGORY D

HUNT, ERA K

HUNT, ROBERT L

HUNT STEVEN K

HUNT, WILLIAM A

HUNTER, CHARLES H

HUNTER, MICHAEL J

HUNTER, TYRONE T

HUNTSMAN, JABE B

HUNTZ, RICHARD J JR

HURST, JOSEPH L

HURT, THOMAS E

HUTCHINSON, SHAWN A

HYATT, JAMES

ILAOA, ALBERT

IMOTAN, EDGARDO A

IMPERIAL, ULYSSES C

INOUYE, BRIAN

IPOCK, BRADY C

IVEY, CHARLES E

JACKS, ROBERT JR

JACKSON, ELIZABETH L

JACKSON ERIC M

JACKSON, JOHN B

JACKSON, KARIN G

JACKSON, RANDY F

JACOBS, CHARLES D

JACOBSEN, COREY T

JAGIELSKI, MICHAEL P

JAKUBS, CHARLES E JR

JAMES, RONNIE D

JAMES, WILLIAM G

JAMOTILLO, VIRGILIO

JANICKY, JOHN P

JAURIGUI, ESTEBAN H

JAVIER, CRISTITUTO Z

JAVINAR, RICARDO S

JAYCOX, THOMAS P

JENCO, JAMES J

JENKINS, AUSTIN A

JENKINS, JEFFREY S

JENKINS, JOSEPH D

JENKINS, LAURENCE A

JENKINS, MARK A

JENSEN, GARY M

JERKINS, GREG D

JETER, BARRY JR

JIMENEZ, DANIEL

JIMENEZ, MOISES

JINKS, BOBBY J

JOERRES, MARC

JOHNSON, ANGELA F

JOHNSON, BILLY G

JOHNSON, DARYL A

JOHNSON, DOUGLAS D

JOHNSON, ELMER E

JOHNSON, JEFFREY A

JOHNSON, KEITH D

JOHNSON, KEITH E

JOHNSON, KRAIG S

JOHNSON, KYLE S

JOHNSON, RAYNOND H

JOHNSON, ROBERT A

JOHNSON, THOMAS A

JOLIVETTE, GERARD

JOLIVETTE, STEVEN

JONES, ANTHONY B

JONES, BERNARD

JONES, BOYD F W

JONES, BRUCE L

JONES, BRYANT L

JONES, DANNIE N

JONES, DAVID L

JONES, JAMES W

JONES, KEVIN S

JONES, PIERCE L

JONES, ROSE H

JONES, RUSSELL

JONES, STANLEY C

131

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JONES, STEFANY D

JONES, WAYNE E

JONES, WILLIAM E

JORDAN, DARRYL Z

JORDAN, JOSEPH J

JORDAN, MICHAEL

JORDAN, SAMUEL J

JORDAN, WILLIAM A

JORGENSON, JAMES R

JOYNER, JOSHUA R

JOYNER, LANCE L

JOZWIAK, THOMAS

JUAN, MICHAEL S

JUDD, ERIC C

JUDD, JASON W

JURNA, CHARLES V

KANDOLL, MICHAEL

KANE, TIMOTHY N

KANNADY, DOUGLAS N

KAREL, STEPHEN B

KARLBURG, CATHY

KAUFFMAN, TERRY L

KAY, JOEL D

KEATON, ALLAN

KEATON, DAVID

KEIFER, EDWARD J

KELIIKOA, JOSEPH K JR

KELLER, DENNY

KELLY, DARLA J

KELLY, RANDAL G

KEM, MICHAEL

KENDRICK, ROBERT L

KENNEDY, MICHAEL D II

KENNEDY, PAUL D

KENNEDY, WILLIAM A

KERCHNER, KURT N

KERMER, WOLFGANG H

KERN, MICHAEL J

KERR, DWAYNE E

KETNER, KEVIN J

KETTLER, ROBERT J

KEY, ARTHUR JR

KIENZLEN, MICHAEL L

KIESLER, JOHN F

KIEWSKI, MICHAEL D

KIMBLE, CHARLES P

KIMBLE, JAMES H JR

KIMBROUGH, A

KINCAID, DARREN L

KING, BRIAN M

KING, MARK

KING, PATRICK W

KING, ROBERT L JR

KING, RONALD L

KINGSBURY, KENNETH H

KINMAN, SAMUEL D

KINNEY, M A

KINNEY, ZACHARY Z

KINSEY, DONALD F

KIRKPATRICK, DON R

KIRKSEY, ROBERT S

KIRWAN, JON G

KISER, CASE R

KISNER, JANIE L

KISNER, ROBERT E

KITTREDGE, JAMES F

KLEINSMITH, GERARD A

KLINEDINST, RAYMOND F

KLUESNER, CHRISTOPHER M

KMET, JUDY

KNOCHE, LARRY R

KNOLL, JAMES R JR

KNOX, DANIEL G

KNOX, J E

KNOX, WILLIAM J

KOCHEL, LORI A

KOCHER, RICK P

KOENIG, PAUL K

KOPPLER, DANA L

KORBAKES, PHILLIP N II

KREIFELS, SUSAN C

KRISHER, NEAL C

KRIZAN, KELLY J

KROGWOLD, ROGER A 

KRUEGER, JOSEPH J

KRUPA, JAMES W

KUBICK, CHRISTOPHER J

KUNTZ, TRACEY C

KURZ, JULIAN T

KUYPERS, CAMERON A

LACOUR, LARRY G

LAFERRELL, SHERIDAN R II

LAFFERRE, MATTHEW A

LAFOUNTAIN, JOHN A

LAFRANCE JEFFREY J

LAGAREJOS, ALEJANDRO L

LAHY, DAVID L

LAICHAS, GEORGE D

LAIRD, BRENT E

LAKE, MILLER G

LAKE, RICHARD J

LAMARCA, RAUL G

LAMB, MARK C

LAMB, MICHAEL J

LAMMERT, EUGENE T

LAMOY, LEON E

LANCIANO, ERIC T

LANE, RICHARD W

LANEY, PAUL A

LANIER, MICHAEL R

LANNON, HOWARD R

LAPIERRE, MARCIA

LAPOINTE, ROBERT L

LAPOINTE, TRACY L

LARGE, RUSSELL D

LARGETEAU, SUSAN R

LARRY, JOHNNIE

LARSON, GEORGE C

LARSON, KARL A

LARSSON, BRIAN D

LASSITER, KEVIN B

LATHAM MARY K

LATHAM, WILLIAM I JR

LATIN, ERNEST

LAURENT, JAMES A

LAVELLE, STEPHEN M 

LAVIELLE, MICHAEL S

LAWSON, DAVID M

LAWSON, MARGARET Z

LAZORIK, JOHN L JR

LEAL, JOSE

LEANO, MARCIAL D

LEANO, RICARDO G 

LEAVELL, JAMES V

LEBIEDZ JOSEPH G JR 

LEBLANC, MARK L JR

LEBUTT, BRIAN W 

LEDDING, JON E

LEDOM, JACK L JR

LEE, BRIAN E

LEE, JERRY W

LEE, RUSSELL E JR

LEE, WILLIAM M JR

LEE, WILLIE L

LEE, WOODROW

LEFEVER, MARIE Y

LEFTWICH, BILLY L

LEGRONE, JOSEPH A

LEHMAN, SEAN A

LEITCH, SCOTT A

LEMIEUX, JOSEPH R

LENCZUK, STEVE A

LERCH, RONALD E

LESANE, TERRENCE

LESSNER, LEONARD J

LEVAY, STACY E

LEWIS, BRIAN S

LEWIS, CLARENCE E

LEWIS, DAWNEEN A

LEWIS, DENVER L

LEWIS, DOROTHY

LEWIS, JOEL L

LEWIS, KENNETH S

LEWIS, ROBERT J

LEWIS, ROGER V

LEWIS, ROSE M

LEWIS, TOMMY L

LEY, MIGUEL A

LEYSON, THEODORE R

LIBARIOS, ARNEL C

LIBERT, RODNEY L

LIENHART, PATRICK F

LIGERALDE, GREG D

LIGHTFOOT, JOHN W

LIGON, FLORDELIZA H

LIKINS, GLENNON C

LILLIS, MATTHEW C

LILLY, JOHN E

LINDSAY, VYNA I

LINDSEY, BRIAN D

LINDSEY, JAMES C

LINER, DARRYL D

LITTLE, G

132

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LITTLE, HAROLD D

LITTLE, SUNYATA K

LIVICA, ARISTON P

LLOYD, JAMES W

LOBBESTAEL, ROBERT A

LOCKETT, MELVIN S

LOEWENHAGEN, RICHARD J

LOHMAN, KATHLEEN M

LONCAR, CRAIG P

LONG, DONALD C JR

LONG, GERALD L

LONG, PATRICIA A

LONG, ROBERT

LONG, STEVE

LONG, SUE E

LONGSTREET, RENEE L

LOOMIS, ROBERT M

LOPEZ, DAVID A

LOPEZ, LISA A

LOQUIST, GREGORY S

LORCH, ROBERT E

LORIMOR, RODNEY J

LOTER, KEITH D

LOTT, REGINALD D

LOUDENSLAGER, WILLIAM E

LOUM, GLENN M

LOUSER, BRIAN L

LOVATO, MARC L

LOVE, JAMES E JR

LOVELL, RONALD

LOVETT, BENJAMIN

LOWE, CHRISTOPHER A

LOWE, ROBERT D

LOY, STEVEN W

LOZANO, ALFRED E

LOZINSKI, WILLIAM H

LUCAS, ALEXANDER J

LUCAS, JOHN P

LUCAS, NESTOR P

LUCERO, PETER B

LUCY, JAMES W

LUDINGTON, BRUCE S

LUECHTEFELD, MARK E

LUKE, MARC A

LUNDGREN, ROBERT F

LUPTON, REBECCA R

LUSHER, BRYAN

LUTHER, DALE A

LYDSTON, JEFFREY P

LYLES, JENNIFER R

LYNCH, ANTHONY W

LYNCH, WILLIAM J E

LYNDE, REX K

LYONS, EDWARD

MABE, JOE B

MABUTI, GIL B

MACELUCH, THOMAS D

MACHETTE, ROBERT G

MACK, LARRY J JR

MACKEY, JOSEPH P

MADDAGAN, ROLAND Q

MADERE, DAVID W

MAERZ, JOHN M

MAGANA, SALVADOR

MAGGARD, MARK D

MAGNAN, JOHN J

MAGNERS, DONALD T

MAJORS, ROBERT W

MAKER, ROY

MALLOY, JAMES D

MALM, ROBERT L

MANABET, E

MANALO, JUN L

MANDL DAVID

MANECKE, WALTER J

MANGLONA, FRED C

MANINO, DAVID A

MANN, JAMES T

MANNING, DANNY W

MANNING, GEORGE A

MARCH, JEFFREY E

MARCOS, ISIDRO E

MARIANO, ENRIQUE

MARINELLI, BRIAN K

MARKEY, KEITH E A

MARKHAM, PAUL E

MARQUEZ, GLENN

MARQUEZ, HERMIE C

MARS, GEORGE R JR

MARSH, HAROLD J

MARSHALL, KEVIN B

MARSHALL, RENE H

MARTIN, ARTIST H

MARTIN, DARREN W

MARTIN, DAVID M

MARTIN, JAMES E JR

MARTIN, JEFFERY A

MARTIN, ROBERTA L

MARTINEAU, DONAVON J

MARTINELLI, MARY M

MARTINEZ, ALBERTO

MARTINEZ, LOUIS H

MARTINEZ, MARK R

MARTYNOVYCH, PETER N

MARYNEN, SIMON

MASE, STEPHEN A

MASSEY, DEON M

MATHENY, SCOTT A

MATHEY, GUY E

MATHIS, JOHN H

MATHIS, MELINDA F

MATTHEWS, LINDA R

MATTINGLY, BRIAN F

MAULDIN, TROY A

MAURER, DOUGLAS A

MAXEY, CHRISTOPHER

MAXWELL, JAMES R

MAY, CLEODIS

MAY, FLOYD

MAY, RICHARD L II

MAYER, DWIGHT J

MAYES, ROBERT L II

MAYNARD, MICHAEL D

MAYNARD, YETTA L

MAYORAL, LUIS A

MAZZONI, ANTHONY J

MAZZONI, THOMAS J

MCALINEY, JOHN P

MCALISTER, KIMBERLY K

MCALLISTER, THOMAS K

MCBRIDE, LEWIS E III

MCBRIDE, MICHAEL A

MCCALL, ALBERT T JR

MCCALLUM, WILTON E

MCCARTER, RONALD A

MCCARTHER, DALE R

MCCARTHY, DENNIS S

MCCARTHY, EDWARD J

MCCLADDIE, CURTIS

MCCLEES, DOUGLAS M

MCCLELLAND, SHAWN E

MCCLINCHY, TIMOTHY J

MCLOUD, DAVID L JR

MCCLUNG, JAMES L

MCCLUNG, ROCKE W

MCCLURE, JEFFERY

MCCLURE, RICHARD W

MCCORMICK, KEVIN M

MCCORQUODALE, CRAIG

MCCORT, BRADLEY R

MCCOY, CARL H JR

MCCOY, LEONARD C

MCCRORY, JOHN P

MCCULLOUGH, EDWARD F

MCCUTCHEON, JOHN E

MCDANIEL, HOSHEA M

MCDERMOTT, MARK J

MCDONALD, HAROLD R

MCDONALD, WILBERT JR

MCGACHEY, JAMES E

MCGANN, LISA L

MCGEE, MARK V

MCGILLIVRAY, WARREN

MCGRIFF, ROBERTA L

MCGUIRE, DON J

MCGUIRE, KEITH A

MCGURK, EDWIN W

MCHENRY, EDWARD H

MCINTYRE, MICHAEL L

MCKAY, DAVID A

MCKEAN, KURT D

MCKELLIPS, KYLE B

MCKENZIE, ROBERT

MCKEY, JOHN M

MCKINNEY KRIS F

MCLAIN, SAMUEL A

MCLAUGHLIN, MICHAEL W

MCMANIGAL, WILLIAM K

MCMANN, CHARLES R

MCMILLAN, BRIAN N

MCMILLER JEFFERY L

MCMURTRAY, THEODORA

MCNAIR, DALE D

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MCNEELY, ROBERT L

MCNEIL, WAYNE C

MCWHIRTER, MARK E

MEADOWS, KERRY E

MEANLEY, PAUL

MEANS, MARY J

MEANS, WARREN D

MEDINA, ALVIN G C

MEDINA, LEONARD III

MEEKER, ROBERT W

MEIER, DEBORAH K

MELTON, PAUL F

MENDEZ, GAVINO J

MENDOZA, ANTHONY C

MENDOZA, MAYNARD M

MENDOZA, RAYMUNDO C

MENOR, REYNALDO L

MERCENDETTI, C

MERTENS, DAVID A

METSGER, MARK A

METTING, PAUL A

MEYERS, ERIK J

MICHAEL, DANIEL L

MIDEL, DAVID L

MIKKELSEN, MICHAEL L

MIKKELSEN HARLAN E

MILANOVITS, GUY L

MILBURN, MICHAEL D

MILES, DAVID A

MILLARD, LAWRENCE S

MILLER, BENJAMIN M

MILLER, CHARLES E

MILLER, DAVID L

MILLER, DEAN A

MILLER, DEAN J

MILLER, JAMES W

MILLER, JOHNNIE L

MILLER, JOSEPH M

MILLER, KENNETH L

MILLER, LEON D

MILLER, MICHAEL G

MILLER, STEPHEN R

MILLER, STEVE

MILLER, WILLIAM L

MILLER, WILLIAM S

MILLS, JOHN

MILLS, YASUTOMO

MILNER, RICHARD W

MILTON, RANDY L

MINA, ROLANDO L

MINCY, CHRISTOPHER W

MISA, SERGIO M M

MITCHELL, BILLY G

MITCHELL, DANIEL T JR

MITCHELL, DONALD J

MITCHELL, PATRICK O

MITCHELL, STEPHEN C

MOEN, DANA S

MOFFETT, JOSEPH C

MOFFETT, MARCUS S

MONROE, GARRY A

MONTANO, MANUEL

MOON, RICHARD A

MOON, RICKY D

MOORE, BOBBY R II

MOORE, FRANK L

MOORE, JOHN D

MOORE, MICHAEL A

MOORE, TIMOTHY J

MORALES, VICTOR A R

MORELOS, ALBERT O

MORGAN, ALAN L

MORGAN, DENNIS D

MORGAN, JAMES P JR

MORGAN, KIRK

MORGAN, PATRICK J

MORGAN, ROBERT J JR

MORGAN, THOMAS P

MORREY, SHAWN C

MORRIS, BOBBY D

MORRIS, BRYAN A

MORRISON, JAMES M T

MORRISON, JOSEPH S

MORRISEY, ROBERT P

MORSE, JAMES G

MORTON, WILLIAM

MOSER, KENNETH J

MOSES, JOHN J

MOSHER, ROBERT E

MOSIER, GARY L

MOSS, DAVID A

MOSS, ROBERT B

MOTAKA, CRAIG G

MOTT, DONALD V

MOULTON, GREGORY S

MOYER, BARTON J

MOYER, WILLIAM A

MOYNIHAN, JAMES D

MULLINAX, HARRY K

MUNN, TERRILL R

MURDOCH, GEORGE L

MURISON, CHARLES N

MURPHY, GEORGE R

MURPHY, LOUIS M

MURPHY, MICHAEL P

MURRAY, ANDREW E

MURRAY, KEITH A

MYERS, LAWRENCE F

MYERS, WESLEY R

MYRICK, CEDRIC

NADEAU, TIMOTHY J

NAFRADA, CAESAR E

NALLS, PAM

NAPIER, ROBERT B

NASIELSKI, TIMOTHY

NATIVIDAD, DANNY P

NAZARENO, DENNIS T

NEAL, ROBERT E

NEECE, LESLEY A

NEGRON, RAY R

NELSON, CURTIS

NELSON, JAMES A

NELSON, JAMES R JR

NELSON, KELLI L

NELSON, STEVEN J

NELUMS, RICK

NEMEDY, JOSEPH A

NESS, MARLIN A

NESTER, GEORGE W

NEUBECK, PATRICK A

NEVILLE, KIMBERLY K

NEWBERRY, BOBBIE L

NEWELL, DEREK T

NEWMAN, EDWARD M

NEWMAN, PAUL E

NEWSON, HARVEY D

NEYPES, NATHANEAL C

NGO, THANH T

NGUYEN, T V

NICELY, WILLIAM C

NICHOLLS, GERALD W

NICHOLS, CHARLES G

NICHOLS, CHARLES M JR

NICHOLS, CHARLES R

NICHOLS, WAYNE E

NICHOLS, WILLIAM D

NICHOLSON, WILLIAM A

NICKLOW, DAVID A

NICODEMI, MICHAEL S

NIENKAMP, STEVEN J

NISSON, KEVIN G

NIVEN, GEORGE W JR

NOEL, GILBERT

NOONAN, MARK J

NORDSTROM, CARL D

NORDSTROM, JUDITH A

NORMAN, DAVID

NORRIS, EDWARD G JR

NORSWORTHY, STEPHEN B

NORTH, JAMES J

NORTHRUP, THEODORE R

NORTON, BRADLEY P

NORTON, KELBEY

NULL, JAMES R

NUTTER, GLENN P

NYANDER, BRET L

OAKLEY, JEFFREY N

OAKLEY, JIMMY R

OBERMEYER, GARY W

O’BRIANT, JOHN D

OBRIEN, EUGENE C

OBRIEN, JOHN A

OBRIEN, ROBERT F JR

OBRIEN, SEAN P

OCAMPO, DANILO T

OCASIO, ISRAEL T JR

ODA, BRENT M

ODORCICH, THOMAS M III

ODRA, MARTIN A

OIE, DALE R

OILAR, MICHAEL S

OKELLEY, BRADLEY E

OLAES, ROBIN E

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OLIVAS, TOMMY

OLIVER, DAVID A

OLSEN, GEOFFREY T

OLSEN, JOHN A

OLSON, THOMAS E

ONEIL, ERIC T

ONEILL, CARL W

ONEILL, CRAIG E

ORDAL, JAMES G

ORESKOVICH, JOSEPH T

ORG, HARRY

OROURKE, JOHN P

OROYAN, PEDRO

OROZCO, STUART W

ORTEGA, DOMINGO JR

ORTIZ, RUBEN

OSBORNE, DERICK M

OSTRANDER, DONALD C

OTOOLE, GORDON G

OWEN, KELLY T

OWENS, CHRISTIAN M

OWENS, LARRY G

OWENS-HUNT, LISA S

PACIELLO, RONALD

PACK, JOSEPH B

PACKARD, JERRY M

PADILLA, ERIC T

PAINE, LARRY D

PALAIS, LAURENCE

PALECEK, DOUGLAS A

PALM, CHRISTOPHER M

PALMER, DALE I JR

PANKOP, JEFFREY P

PAPP, JOHN T

PARDE, CHAD A

PARK, ROBERT

PARKER, GEORGE G

PARKER, GREGORY P

PARKER, HUGH 

PARKER, ISRAEL A

PARKER, JOHN C

PARKER, MICHAEL L

PARKER, RAYMOND L

PARKER, ROBERT M

PARKMAN, ALLEN K

PARKS, ALEX J

PARKS, JUDITH

PARRISH, MARK G

PARVIN, NORMAN D

PASCAL, FREEMAN P IV

PASSWATER, THOMAS A

PATTERSON, JEFFREY J

PATTON, ROBERT J II

PATUBO, PERCIVAL M

PAVEGLIO, DAVID A

PAXSON, KELLY R

PAYNE, DALE

PAYNE, EDWARD E

PAYNE, JEFFREY C

PAZ, EDUARDO V

PEACOCK, JAMES R

PEARSON, ANDREW R

PEARSON, ARTHUR J

PEARTREE, KENNETH W

PECK, JAMES R

PECK, JERAULD F JR

PECK, ROBIN A

PEDDY, JOHN L

PEET, NORAH J JR

PEGG, HARRY T JR

PEHOWIC, PATRICK A

PELLICHET, MICHAEL A

PEMBERTON, FORREST T

PENA, JACINTO

PERALTA, ARTHUR D

PEREZ, DAVID G

PEREZ, DAVID L

PEREZ, GILBERT A

PEREZ, RICHARD L

PERKINS, JEFFERY A

PERRINO, DANIEL

PERRINO, DIDI

PERRY, JAY M

PERRY, LEOZIE

PERRY, MICHAEL C

PERRY, RONALD J

PETERS, ANDREW M

PETERS, PHILIP N

PETERS, THOMAS C

PETERSEN, BRANDON G

PETERSON, KIMBLE L

PETERSON, LAWRENCE F JR

PETRI, KEVIN C

PETTIT, TROY A

PHELPS, MICHAEL F

PHILLIPS, ANTHONY M

PHILLIPS, CHARLES E

PHILIPPS, KENT L

PHISAYAVONG, S

PIARROT, ERIC W

PICKENS, EDWIN G

PICKERING, ERANK

PICKETT, DALE A

PIERCE, BILL D

PIERCE, GARY W

PIERCE, MICHAEL D

PILA, ROBERT J

PILLING, STACEY A

PINNIX, WILLIAM F

PITTMAN, BARBARA A

PITTMAN, PAUL E JR

PITTMAN, RUSSELL S

PITTS, DAVID D

PLATTER, WILLIAM E

PLEDGER, TIMOTHY C

PLOCHOCKI, THOMAS J JR

PLOTT, JOSEPH

POBLETE, JOSELITO C

POCHEK, JAMES W JR

POLLARD, KEVIN W

POLSTON, CODY F

PONSART, KENNETH A

POOR, LARRY C

POPE, ROBERT G

POPPE, DONALD R

PORTER, JAMES

PORTER, NATHAN K

PORTER, RICHARD

PORTER, WAYNE H

POWELL, KEITH D

POWELL, LARRY D

POWERS, JODY R

PRATT, JEFFREY A

PRATT, VICTOR G

PRECHTER, GARY C

PRENDERGAST, PHILIP A

PRESA, NESTOR A

PRESTON, KELVEN

PRICE, HEWLETT D JR

PRICE, MITCHELL A

PRICE, ULYSSES

PRIES, THOMAS

PRITCHETT, LEE

PROCTOR, DOUGLAS W

PRUDENCIO, JUN C

PRYOR, JOHN E

PUDDU, JOSEPH R

PUGH, MICHAEL

PURVIS, JAMES T JR

PURYEAR, RON

PUTNAM, PAUL J

QUARLES, MICHAEL O

QUIGLEY, DAVID P

QUINGUA, NELSON A

QUINN, STEPHEN W

QUINONES, ISRAEL JR

QUINT, JAMES P

QUINTO, ROMULO C

QUIZON, WILSON S

RABEY, DEREK W

RADEMACHER, LORI A

RAFI, RUEL M

RAGIN, JOHN

RAGLIN, ROBERT F JR

RAINGE, RONNIE

RAINS, KIRK

RAINS, KERRY F

RAMOS, CARLOS G JR

RAMOS, EDWARD C

RAMOS, JAIME L

RAMOS, JESUS

RAMOS, ROLAND V

RAMSEY, ALVIN L

RAMSEY, ROBERT L

RAMSEY, WILLIAM M

RANCK, CHRISTOPHER A

RAND, RONALD T

RANSFORD, PAUL J III

RANSOM, DAVID M

RAUTH, DONALD R

RAWLS, ANTONIA

RAY, KILPATRICK A

RAY, WILLIAM D

135

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RAYBON, MARTY C

REAGAN, RONNIE

REAGIN, MARK A

REASE, JAMES A

REAVES, STEPHEN M

RECINTO, FRANCISCO P

RECK, STEPHEN

RECORE, BRUCE M

REDFORD, IVAN D JR

REDIC, ALBERT L

REDINGTON, ROBERT R

REED, MARK S

REED, MILLAND

REEVES, JAMES H II

REEVES, NORMAN E

REGISTER, ROBERT A

REICH, EDWARD A

REICHERT, JEFFREY E

REID, ALFRED A JR

REIDY, CHARLES, A

RENDLE, JOSEPH W

RENDON, REUBEN A JR

RENKEL, AARON G

RENNER, ROBERT P JR

REYES, RAFAEL A S

REYES, VICTORINO O JR

REYNOLDS, ROB ERT F

REYNOLDS, THOMAS A JR

RHOADES, WAYNE L

RHODES, VERNON L

RICHARDS, EUGENE D

RICHARDS, PAUL E

RICHARDSON, ARNOLD B

RICHARDSON, ERIC L

RICHARDSON, JAMES E

RICHARDSON, LAWRENCE E

RICHARDSON, VIRGIL

RIDDLE, MARK D

RIDENHOUR, WILLIAM C

RIDER, JONATHON C

RIDER, JOSEPH C

RIDGEWAY, LARRY L

RIGGLE, STEVEN A

RIGGS, TIMOTHY R

RIGUAL, RITA D

RILEY, HUGH H

RINARD, JEFFERY L JR

RISTOW, KEITH W

RITCHEY, STEVEN R

RITTER, GREGORY H

RITTGERS, MARY J A

RIVARD, ANTHONY G JR

RIZZO, ANTHONY G JR

ROACH, CHARLES W

ROBERTS, DANNY C

ROBERTS, DAVID W

ROBERTS, DEAN E

ROBERTS, JACK

ROBERTS, KERRY K

ROBERTSON, J T

ROBERTSON, JOHN O

ROBINSON, BENJAMIN L

ROBINSON, BOBBY L

ROBINSON, CARL

ROBINSON, FRANK

ROBINSON, HEIDI E

ROBINSON, LESLIE J JR

ROBINSON, RAYMOND E

ROBINSON, ROBERT J

ROBINSON, THOMAS E JR

ROBSON, WILLIAM T JR

ROCCO, CARL D

ROCKHOLD, MICHAEL T

RODRIGUEZ, ALFRED

RODRIGUEZ, ALFRED D

RODRIGUEZ, CELESTINO JR

RODRIGUEZ, RICHARD D

RODRIQUEZ, JOSEPH A

ROE, CHRISTOPHER P

ROGERS, GERALD R JR

ROGERS, LARRY H

ROHN, JOHN M

ROLLYSON, EDWARD L

ROMBAOA, MACARIO B

ROMERO, JORGE H

ROMERO, MARIO M

ROOFNER, WILLIAM C

ROONEY, TIMOTHY J

ROPER, TOMMY W JR

ROSA, CHARLES

ROSA, ESPERANZA DC

ROSA, ISRAEL

ROSA, MARLENE S

ROSALES, JOSE D JR

ROSAMOND, E A

ROSE, HENRY L

ROSS, EDGAR L

ROSS, JOHN R II

ROSS, SEAN M

ROSSI, MARK D

ROTH, SHERI J

ROUSEY, GREGORY W

ROUTH, CHARLES L

ROWE, BRADLY D

ROZANSKI, JOHN G JR

ROZANSKI, KEVIN F

RUBIO, G P T

RUDDER, LESTER F

RUIZ, PHILIP J

RUMSEY, THERON F

RUSHING, JOHNNY C II

RUSSELL, EMORY C

RUST, WILLIAM J

SAACK, MORIA C

SABINO, VICTOR L

SACCUMAN, MARIO B

SADORRA CORNELIO T

SAGE, ALLAN J

SALAZAR, EDWARD R

SALAZAR, SANDRA L

SALGADO, MELANIO R

SALSBERRY, DARCEY A

SALZMAN, KENNETH L

SAMMS, LYNN K

SANCHEZ, HARRY J

SANDERS, GEORGE G

SANDERS, JANET L

SANDERS, JUDITH A

SANDERS, RANDAL J

SANDLER, MICHAEL

SANDLER, NANCY A

SANDY, STEVEN E

SANNEY, GARY K

SANTA MARIA, FREDERICK

SANTACROCE, DAVID G

SANTACRUZ, REY C

SANTHOFF, SHERRY R

SANTOS, JESUS

SANTOS, RONNIE V

SARACENO, MICHAEL S

SARAO, JOHN

SARGENT, RANDY D

SATTERWHITE, RONALD L 

SAUCILLO, RAMIRO J

SAUNDERS, DUKE C

SAUNDERS, FREDERICK E JR

SAVAGE, DONALD S

SAVANT, DAVID L

SCHAAF, GORDAN B

SCHAEFER, CANDACE M

SCHAEFER, DARRELL L JR

SCHAEFER, DAVID P 

SCHAEFER, SUZANNE T 

SCHAUB, FREDERICK L 

SCHAUM, HAROLD D 

SCHEIERN, TERRY L

SCHENKEL, JAMES F

SCHETROMA, KENNETH L JR

SCHIMITT, MARK

SCHLINK, DANNY R

SCHLINK, MICHAEL L

SCHLINK, ROSALIND

SCHMITT, RICHARD W

SCHNEE, THOMAS M

SCHOLTISEK, ERIC V

SCHOMAKER, LAURENCE W

SCHOZER, DAVID A

SCHRIEWER, RICHARD S

SCHROEDER, RANDALL K

SCHROER, CORY L

SCHRUMP, DONNA M

SCHULTZ, RAYMOND H

SCHUTZUIS, MARVIN J

SCHWAB, THOMAS JR

SCHWEIZER, ALVIN C II

SCHWOERER, RONALD E

SCORDIA, FRANCESCO

SCOTT, CHRISTINE J

SCOTT, DEAN M

SCOTT, GLENN M

SCOTT, JONATHON A

SCOTT, ROGER J

SCOTT, TIMOTHY D

136

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
SCOTT, TRENT L

SCOTT, WENDY A

SCRIBNER, JAMES B

SCRIVER, DAVID C

SCROGGINS, BERTON S

SCUITO, RICHARD E

SEAGRAVES, TRACY L

SEAMAN, RICHARD L

SEE, PETER T

SEIF, KENNETH

SEITTER, ROBERT L

SELBITSCHKA, DANIEL L

SELDERS, WELDON R

SELLS, DANNY

SEMIEN, LORIE B

SERINO, JAMES P

SESSION, TYREE V

SEVERANCE, PETER G III

SEWELL, JONATHAN S

SEXTON, KURT J 

SHAFFER, GEORGE E 

SHAMPO, JEFFREY D

SHANKLES, BOBBY D 

SHANNON, CHARLES G

SHANNON, RICKY

SHANOR, EDWARD F JR

SHARER, JAMES D

SHARON, CHARLES L

SHARP, DAVID W

SHARP, HARRY R III

SHARPS, DORAL D

SHAW, JEANNIE M

SHEFFIELD, MAURICE

SHELNUTT, RICHARD T

SHEPHERD, MICHAEL A

SHERRILL, STEVEN W

SHERROD, DEMEATRICE

SHIELDS, JUDITH A

SHIELDS, RICHARD K

SHILLING, MICHAEL C

SHIREY, JEFFREY A

SHIRLEY, FRED A

SHOCKLEY, THOMAS E

SHOEMAKER, CLIFFORD

SHOLES, JOSEPH D

SHOVER, MATTHEW T

SHOWALTER, FLOYD W

SHULL, LARRY W

SHURTZ, EDWARD A

SIAPNO, ALFRED C

SIBERT, JAMES H

SIFUENTES, DIEGO A

SILER, JAMES

SILVA, CARLOS L

SILVERMAN, JESSE M G

SIMIC, MICHAEL S

SIMMONS, ALPHONSO

SIMMONS, MARK L

SIMMONS, PATRICK

SIMMONS, PAUL M

SIMON, KEITH E

SINGELTON, JOHN C

SIPES, TIMOTHY E

SKAJEM, CHARLENE R

SKEIDE, DOUGLAS R

SKELTON, JOHN B II

SKINNER, JOHNNY

SKIPPER, MARVIN

SKIPPS, DAVID A SR

SKOWRONSKI, DIANE L

SLACK, CINDY L

SLAGLE, STEVEN A

SLATER, BRIAN L

SLATER, RICHARD

SLIGAR, WILLIAM G

SMITH, ALTHEA A

SMITH, ANNA A

SMITH, BRIAN D

SMITH, BRYAN H

SMITH, BUDDY G

SMITH, CARL L

SMITH, CHARLES

SMITH, CHRISTOPHER J

SMITH, CLIFTON M

SMITH, DANIEL J

SMITH, DAVID G

SMITH, DAVID W

SMITH, DENNIS T

SMITH, DOUGLAS E

SMITH, EARLE G III

SMITH, FRANK M

SMITH, GERALD A

SMITH, GREGORY S

SMITH, JAMES M

SMITH, JOAN C

SMITH, JODY

SMITH, LANCE H

SMITH, LEONARD C

SMITH, LORRIE M

SMITH, LYNN E

SMITH, MARIA A

SMITH, MARK A

SMITH, MARK E

SMITH, MICHAEL C

SMITH, MICHAEL L

SMITH, OWEN D JR

SMITH, ROBERT G

SMITH, ROGER

SMITH, SCOTT A

SMITH, SHARLENE L

SMITH, SHELDON S

SMITH, TIMOTHY D

SMITH, WILLIAM H

SMITH, WILLIE C

SMITH, YVAN K

SNOW, MARK K

SNYDER, ROBERT R

SOBIN, IVAN D

SOBKOVIAK, LAUREN R

SOCEY, MICHAEL T

SOMBKE, WILLIAM L

SOMERS, DANIEL J

SOMMERS, MARC A

SONODA, MICHAEL M

SORIANO, RONALDO T

SOSSAMON, JOSEPH W

SPARKS, WILLIAM F

SPARR, LARRY R

SPEAR, ERIC J

SPEARS, HARRY C JR

SPECK, MICHAEL B

SPEEDIE, JOHN D

SPEER, KEVIN L

SPEIGNER, ROBERT W

SPENCER, EDWARD E

SPENCER ERWIN A

SPILLANE, ALBERT J

SPINAS, DANIEL R

SPRUILL, MILON W

SPRY, JOHN A

SQUIER, SCOTT R

STACEY, GARY B

STACKS, MICHELLE A

STAFF, JOHN K

STAFF, NATALIE T

STAFFORD, DAVID B

STAHELI, RICHARD D

STAMPS, DAVID E

STANFORD, MABLE L

STANKOVICH, ROBERT M

STANSBERRY, TONY E

STAPLES, SHANNON M

STARK, JAY D

STATEN, PATRICK D

STAUFFER, MARK J 

STEBBINS, DAVID M

STEELE, ALSTON G 

STEELY, ROBERT B 

STEINBECK, MICHAEL O 

STEINKE, WILLIAM J

STEPHENS, WILLIAM D

STEVENS, CHRISTOPHER L

STEVENS, MITCHELL D

STEVENSON, SEAN T

STEVENSON, TIRRELL D 

STEWARD, DOUGLAS E

STEWART, ARVEL

STEWART, BRUCE E

STEWART, CURTIS O

STEWART, STEVEN W

STEWART, THOMAS L

STICHTER, TOMMY E

STICKELS, JAMES E

STINE, NORMA L

STISSER, GARY W

STIVERS, PHILIP T

STIVES, JAMES E

STOGSDILL, JAMES E

STOLL, HAROLD W

STONE, CHARLES D

STORMAN, ROGER A

STOTT, DAVID E

STOUDT, LEE A JR

137

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
STRATTON, MARK F

STREPEK, RANDOLPH M

STRICKENBERGER, A L 

STRICKLAND, CORTEZ R 

STROMBECK, MARK R 

STRONG, MATTHEW 

STROUD, JAMES R

STROZIER, JOHN C

STUDER, WILLIAM A

SUBER, GARY SR

SUGHRU, SHARON K

SULLIVAN, BONNIE J

SULLIVAN, DONALD N JR

SULLIVAN, JOHN W

SULLIVAN, RANDOLPH L

SUMMERWELL, RODNEY E

SUNDAY, DONALD T

SUSSMAN, JEFFREY W

SUTIONO, ZADOK

SUTTON, DONALD H

SUTTON, SCOTT D

SUTTON, SEAN R

SVATOS, JOSEPH M

SVEDA, DANIEL P

SWAN, STEVEN C

SWANN, DARREN L

SWANSTROM, RICHARD

SWEET, WILLIAM J

SYLVA, KENNETH L

SZPLETT, STEVEN J

TALERICO, JAMES L

TAMBOT, ROQUE B

TAMONDONG, ROMILYN S

TARKINGTON, SAM JR

TATE, STEVEN A

TATUM, DWAYNE

TAUS, THOMAS S

TAWNEY, DANIEL J

TAYLOR, CHARLES C

TAYLOR, CHARLES R

TAYLOR, CHARLOTTE V

TAYLOR, CLINTON R

TAYLOR, DAVID O

TAYLOR, DEAN R

TAYLOR, HAROLD

TAYLOR, HENRY D

TAYLOR, JAMES R

TAZOI, DOUGLAS

TEAS, RONNY R

TEATES, BRYAN C

TEMPLE, ROBERT C

TERRELL, DEBRA L

TERRELL, WILBUR L JR

TERRY, BILLY W

TERRY, GARTH E

TESKE, RANDALL L

TETRAULT, JEANLUC

THARP, SCOTT C

THEALL, JEFFREY S

THOMAS, BERNARD

THOMAS, DAN H

THOMAS, DEXTER L

THOMAS, DONALD L JI

THOMAS, FLOYD R

THOMAS, FREDDY

THOMAS, KENNETH G

THOMISON, WILLIAM

THOMPSON, DAVID K

THOMPSON, GILBERT W JR

THOMPSON, GORDON E

THOMPSON, JAMES E

THOMPSON, KENNETH L

THOMPSON, MARVEL G

THOMPSON, ROBERT F

THOMPSON, WHITNEY L

THOMPSON, WILLIAM B

THORP, RONALD J

THORPE, WILLIAM J

TIBBETTS, ELVIN R

TIEDE, JESSE F

TILLSON, SCOTT R

TIMBOL, LODIVINO C

TINALIGA, BERNADO Z

TINSLEY, DAVID W

TIONG, CONRADO P

TIZON, ROBERTO R

TOBEY, VERNON E

TOLES, MARIA Y

TOLLISON, JOHN K

TOMA, DANIEL R

TOMCZAK, JEFFREY J

TOMKOWSKI, JAMES S

TOMLINSON, JIM K

TONACK, BRIAN

TONACK, ELLEN

TONN, JOHN M

TOPPA, RICHARD A JR

TOPPIN, CARLYLE

TORRENCE, STEVEN G

TORRES, ROBERT J

TORRES, VICTOR W

TOWNSEND, KIMBERLY

TRACE, PHILIP H 

TRACY, CRAIG D 

TRAHAN, RANDALL J

TRAPP, DENNIS M

RAVAGLIN, GIFFORD L

TREVINO, MARTIN

TRIMBLE, MICHAEL L

TRIPLETT, GARY M

TROTH, MELVIN E

TROUT, BETTY J

TRUITT, HENRY L

TRUMBULL, JOHN J

TRUMP, BOBBY R

TRUMPH, SKIP E

TRYON, IRA K

TUBBS, KENNETH W

TUBIG, DIOSDADO I

TUCKER, DAVID L

TURLINGTON, ROBERT R

TURNER, COREY M

TURNER, MICHAEL L

TURRIST, FRANK D JR

TUSMAN, STEVEN B

UCCI, HAL S

UNDERWOOD, ARTHUR L JR

UNDERWOOD, MICHAEL C

UPDIKE, MICHAEL D

UPP, RONNY L

VALENTINE, ALPHONSON

VAN OMEN, PRISCILLA

VAN ORNE, RONALD W

VANBUSKIRK, ROBERT A

VANCE, ROBERT A

VANDENAKKER, STEPHEN J

VANDERBILT, CHARLES JR

VANDERPOOL, VERNON R

VANGUNDA, CYRUS W

VANNOY, MICHAEL

VANOMEN, VICTOR

VANSELOW, ROBERT J

VANZANDT, GEORGE H

VARDEMAN, MARVIN B

VARHEGYI, JAMES C

VASSER, MEDIATRIX L

VAUGHAN, ROBERT

VAUGHAN, ROBERT E JR

VAUGHN, ROBERT K

VAUGHN, WILLIAM H JR

VAZQUEZ, MARIA C

VELA, ISRAEL JR

VELORE, MARTIN

VENDZULES, MICHAEL C

VENNERI, STEPHEN J

VENTURA, ERNESTO J

VICENS, WILFREDO

VICHA, WAYNE

VIEIRA, CECIL A

VILLAGRACIA, B D JR

VILLANUEVA, ALEX S

VILLANUEVA, MARCEL R

VILLARRUZ, FRANKIE B JR

VILORIA, JOSE V

VISALDEN, EDWIN A

VO, KIM

VOGEL, DOZIER

VOGEL, RICHARD P

VOGT, GARY J

VORWALD, KEVIN R

VRMEER, HOWARD D II

WAKELEY, SHAWN E

WALKER, FRIEND L

WALKER, GARY

WALKER, HAI TRAN VAN

WALKER, LAWRENCE 

WALKER, RAYMOND E

WALKER, ROY

WALKER, WELLS W JR

WALL, KEITH E

WALLA, JON T

WALLACE, JOHNNIE L JR

WALLACE, STEVEN J

138

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
WALLER, WILBERT

WALTERS, DAVID A

WALTERS, RICHARD E

WARCHOL, GEORGE W JR

WARD, BILLY JR

WARD, DOUGLAS K

WARD, JERRY R

WARE, DON W JR

WARN, CHRISTOPHER L

WARNER, ALFRED R

WARNER, TERRY L

WARNER, TODD M

WARREN, WALLACE C

WASHINGTON, ANDREW

WASHINGTON, CHRISTOPHER A

WASHINGTON, EDWARD D

WASHINGTON, JOHN L

WASHINGTON, WALTER L

WASKO, BRIAN M

WASSON, BARRY G

WATERMAN, SCOTT M

WATERS, MITCHELL D

WATERS, RICHARD B

WATKINS, PAUL L

WATKINS, ROBERT P JR

WATKINS, VANCE V JR

WATSON, CECIL C

WATSON, DONNA E

WEATHERS, MARVIN J

WEAVER, DAVID L

WEAVER, ROGER E

WEBB, JASON D

WEBER, JEFFREY J

WEBERT, MICHAEL J

WEBSTER, MELISSA Y

WEED, JAMES C

WEGMANN, TIMOTHY M

WEGNER, HARRY J

WEHMEYER, MICHAEL E

WEINBURG, PAUL M

WEIR, ERIK D

WELCH, BARBARA J

WELLS, BRIAN A

WELLS, DONALD H

WELLS, MONA

WELLS, ROBERT T

WELSH, WILLIAM J 

WENGERTER, ROBERT P 

WENNER, STEVEN E

WENZEL, CLIFF G

WERNER, SCOTT J

WEST, ROBERT T

WESTMORELAND, RAY T III

WHIDDEN, RONALD J 

WHIRTLEY, BRIAN W

WHITAKER, ALBERT F JR

WHITAKER, CHARLES L

WHITAKER, REAGAN C

WHITE, CHARLES G

WHITE, DANIEL W

WHITE, DAVID M

WHITE, DEKALE 

WHITE, THOMAS P

WHITEHEAD, KEVIN

WHITING, JIMMY D

WHITMER, JOHN

WHITT, MICHAEL B

WICHERS, STEVEN M

WICK, HOWARD J JR

WICKIZER, GEORGE W III

WIESE, BRUCE A

WIGGINS, WILLIAM R

WILEY, EDWIN A

WILKERSON, DAN K

WILKINS, SANFORD E

WILKINSON, JAMES E

WILKINSON, KENT G

WILKINSON, RUSSEL

WILLIAMS, BILLY W

WILLIAMS, CARL III

WILLIAMS, CLINT

WILLIAMS, DAN R

WILLIAMS, DANIEL P

WILL IAMS, DAVID M

WILLIAMS, DEREK E

WILLIAMS, ERIC B

WILLIAMS, ERIC S

WILLIAMS, JACCUE P

WILLIAMS, JOHN L

WILLIAMS, PAUL D

WILLIAMS, RANDALL P

WILLIAMS, RODNEY M

WILLIAMS, TYRONE M

WILLIAMS, VERNON R

WILLIAMS, WINFRED

WILLIS, JUNE M

WILLMAN, JAMES D

WILLMAS, MICHAEL J

WILSON, BRIAN C

WILSON, CARL B

WILSON, DAVID I

WILSON, DEAN D

WILSON, DEVIN

WILSON, GEORGE III

WILSON, GLENN J

WILSON, RODNEY L

WILSON, TERRY

WILSON, TY E

WILTANGER, ERIC J

WIMBROUGH, JOHN H

WINCHESTER, BRIAN F

WINESKI, MARK A

WINFIELD, DWAYNE L

WISENER, JACK C

WOJCIEWEHOWSKI, THOMAS J

WOLF, BRUCE C

WOLFE, ERIC E

WOLFE, GARY M

WONG, FRED

WONG, RITCHELDA B P

WOOD, ERWIN

WOODS, CHRISTOPHER T

WOODS, FITZGERALD

WOODS, PAUL E

WOODY, RICHARD W

WOOLEY, JOEL M

WOOLFORK, IKE III

WOOTEN, TERRANCE D

WORKMAN, JOSEPH A

WORLEY, LONNIE

WORLEY, TIMOTHY A

WORTMAN, ARTHUR J

WRIGHT, LEVI

WRIGHT, WILLIAM E

WULICK, DANIEL III

WULK, STEVEN C

WUNDERLY, GEORGE R

WYNES, DAVID G

YAMBAO, ALBIN G

YAPTANGCO, MANUEL

YARBRO, MARVIN L

YARBROUGH, HORACE

YAUCH, ROBERT R

YCU, JAKE

YECKLEY, SHAWN R

YEWCIC, STEPHEN G

YI, DEBBIE R

YOUNG, BARON T

YOUNG, DENNIS E

YOUNG, GERALD E

YOUNG, KAREN P

YOUNG, RICHARD D

YOIJNG, ROBERT D

YOUNGER, WILLIAM R II

ZACH, ROGER A

ZACKERY, CHARLIE W

ZAHER, FRANCES JEANE

ZAHER, ROBERT

ZAPOLSKI, KENNETH S

ZARTMAN, MARK A

ZAYAS, ROBERT G

ZBRANEK, PETER J JR

ZEITERS, DAVID L

ZIEBERT, THOMAS J

ZIESMER, RICHARD J JR

ZIRTZLAFF, MARK T

ZUNIGA, JOSE L

ZWEIFEL, JOHN W

ZWICKER, JOHN J

139

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
AAA anti-aircraft artillery

AAFES Army and Air Force Exchange Service

ABGD Air Base Ground Defense

aerial port a large area on the flightline where cargo was prepared to be loaded on 

transport aircraft and downloaded cargo was prepared for base distribution

AF Air Force

AFP Armed Forces of the Philippines

ALCE airlift control element

American Condor a ship designed to carry vehicles.

amplitude relative strength

APO air post office, a military zip code

ASAP as soon as possible

barangays villages

BDUs battle dress uniforms

brick hand-held radio. The nickname originated in the days when hand-held

radios were the same size and weight as a brick.

BX base exchange, similar to a department store

C3 command, control, and communications

CABCOM Clark Air Base Command

CAT crisis action team

CE civil engineering

CEX ration cards

CNN Cable News Network

commissary supermarket

COR Condition of Readiness, a warning system used by military forces in the

Pacific.

DOD Department of Defense

EKG electrocardiogram

141

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Glossary

Message boards at Travis AFB,

California, for evacuees from

the Philippines.
feeder band thin band of clouds and rain preceding the main body of a typhoon.

FEN Far East Network

frequency pitch

GOP the government of the Philippines

HF high-frequency

humvees high mobility multipurpose wheeled vehicles

ID identification card

INP Integrated National Police

jeepney a popular form of transportation in the Philippines. Jeepneys were born from

post-World War II military surplus Jeeps which locals bought at low prices and

then extensively customized.

JTF-FV Joint Task Force Fiery Vigil

JULLS Joint Universal Lessons Learned System

K-loader Equipment for loading cargo on transport aircraft.

lahars mudflows

MAC Military Airlift Command

MARS Military Affiliate Radio System

MASS military airlift support squadron

Medevac medical evacuation aircraft

MHP mounted horse patrol

MOGAS motor gasoline

MREs Meals Ready to Eat, the modern version of World War II Crations.

MSAs munitions storage areas

MSSQ mission support squadron

MWR morale, welfare, and recreation

NCO non-commissioned officer

NCOIC non-commissioned officer in charge

NEO non-combatant evacuation order

NPA New People’s Army

ORI operational readiness inspection

PACAF Pacific Air Forces

PAF Philippine Air Force

PCS permanent change of station

PDS Personnel Data System

PF pyroclastic flow

PHIVOLCS Philippine Institute of Volcanology and Seismology (pronounced Fee-volks)

Plinian explosive volcanoes

port call scheduled departure

142

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
POV privately owned vehicle

PPlan programming plan

PVO Pinatubo Volcano Observatory

pyroclastic hot/fiery fragments

rack bunk

ramp aircraft parking area

Red Horse Air Force combat engineering team

RSAM relative seismic amplitude measurement

safe haven an official designation under emergency evacuation orders, i.e. a place to live

temporarily until a permanent assignment is tendered.

SAM surface-to-air missile

sari-sari primitive convenience store

SATO scheduled Airline Ticket Office

sea-van a tractor-trailer body that can be stacked until time for transport at which time it

is lifted by a crane onto a tractor-trailer frame and driven to the port where it is

then lifted onto a ship.

Shirt squadron first sergeant

shopette convenience store

SITREPs situation reports

SOW special operations wing

SP security police

Stinger small, heat-seeking missile carried in a short, lightweight launching tube

TDY temporary duty

TFTG tactical fighter training group

TFW tactical fighter wing

Town Patrol a special unit of the security police that patrolled the liberty areas surrounding

Clark.

tropopause boundary between the upper troposphere and the lower stratosphere; it varies in

altitude from approximately 5 miles at the poles to approximately 11 miles at the

equator.

UHF-SATCOM ultra-high frequency satellite communications radios

USA United States Army

USAF United States Air Force

USAID United States Agency for International Development

USCINCPAC United States Commander in Chief, Pacific

USGS United States Geological Survey

USMC United States Marine Corps

USN United States Navy

USO United Services Organization

USPACOM United States Pacific Command

VDU visual display unit

water buffaloes water carriers mounted on a small, two-wheel trailer

Wilco standard radio terminology for “I will comply”

143

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
Situation Reports (SITREPs)

Every continuing military operation produces daily, weekly, or monthly situation

reports. SITREPs keep everyone up the chain of command informed of the successes, failures,

and needs of the troops who are engaged in action. During the Mount Pinatubo crisis, every

crisis action team at every level of command produced them. The ones I focused on were the

ones from the 3d Tactical Fighter Wing, Clark’s main unit; the American Embassy in Manila;

and the Joint Task Force-Fiery Vigil. Each of them produced a daily report that contains a

wealth of statistical data about the volcano, actions at Clark, the evacuation, as well as commander’s comments that paint a more personal view of events. SITREPs from the 3 TFW and

Fiery Vigil are at the PACAF Command Historian’s Office, Hickam Air Force Base, Hawaii.

The only place I found copies of the embassy SITREPs was at US Pacific Command (USPACOM) headquarters at Camp Smith, Hawaii.

The Philippine Flyer

The Philippine Flyer was the official base newspaper at Clark Air Base. Before the

Pinatubo eruptions it was a weekly, but immediately after the evacuation on June 10, 1991, the

base Public Affairs Officer, Lt Col Ron Rand, directed a daily issue. He did so as a measure to

contain the rumor mill active at an Air Force base, and at Clark the mill ground a lot of grain.

Researchers unfamiliar with base newspapers should look at the issues with caution. Base

newspapers are official publications; therefore, they tend to put an optimistic spin on all news.

However, The Philippine Flyer provided me an invaluable source for information on people

who were doing everyday jobs. Each edition of the “Magmatic Daily Tremblor [sic],” as it was

called had a “Dust Buster of the Day,” segment that honored some Ash Warrior who was doing

a superlative job. These short features are the source for many whom I identified in the book.

Many Ash Warriors kept each issue. I used a book-bound set that belongs to Ron Rand, currently the Public Affairs Officer of the Air Force. The PACAF history office has a set as well.

Interviews

I interviewed or surveyed nearly 100 people in the course of my research. With one

exception, everyone I approached wanted to tell me his or her story. I tape recorded most of

the interviews, and the tapes, unedited, are at the Air Force Historian’s Office at Bolling Air

Force Base, DC. Transcripts were made of some. Since my family and I were reluctant participants in the crisis, I thought I had a good feeling for what I would learn during the interviews. I was wrong. I was unprepared for the raw, deep emotions that came out of nearly

every subject. As I mentioned in the book, the interviews were a catharsis for many, and it

was not uncommon for tears to fall as some related their stories. Without question, the interviews are the most interesting parts of the story and give a rich resonance to the efforts of the

Ash Warriors. Of course, interviews are like eyewitness accounts to a detective. Some are

more reliable than others, but the emotion the interviews reveal is their real value.

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T h e A s h W a r r i o r s

Bibliographic Notes

An aerial view of Clark AB,

with the base hospital in the

center, after the eruptions.
Fire and Mud

This book, edited by Chris Newhall of

USGS and Ray Punongbayan of PHIVOLCS and

published by the University of Washington Press

in Seattle, 1996, is the definitive scientific work

on the Pinatubo eruptions. It is over 1,100 pages

long and contains over 60 papers written on

every aspect of the eruptions and subsequent

lahars. Although most of the articles are beyond

the comprehension of readers who are novice

volcanologists, some deal with the warning system and evacuation coordination. For those

who are especially scientifically-disadvantaged,

the book contains scores of superb photographs

of the volcano, the eruptions, and their aftermath. Cert a i n l y, no discussion of Mount

Pinatubo or research of its eruptions would be

complete without reference to this magnificent

book.

JULLS Reports

The Joint Universal Lessons Learn e d

R e p o rting System (JULLS) is a multi-serv i c e

vehicle for recording lessons learned in joint

operations. The JULLS reports for Joint Task

Force-Fiery Vigil are all available at the PACAF

Command Historian’s Office, Hickam Air Force

Base, Hawaii. The reports are formatted so that

each page is an individual lesson learned from

units that served in Fiery Vigil. The reports are

very specific in that there is a page for even the

seemingly most insignificant lesson. I used the

reports as background for the narration. They

are “must-read” for anyone researching Fiery

Vigil.

Clark Air Base Closure Report

This report is included in its entirety in

Appendix 1 because it contains lessons learned

from each individual unit assigned to Clark Air

Base. It was difficult to find, and I was lucky to

stumble across it stapled to the back of the Clark

Air Base closure plan, or PPlan that I found at

the PACAF history office. Although I found most

of the information credible in the report, a few of

the accomplishments in the report are obviously

exaggerated or overly optimistic. Readers will

need to use caution when drawing conclusions

from the report alone. The optimism of the

report is not surprising. The Ash Warriors were

writing it as they were in the final stages of closing the base and going home. It was an optimistic time, and one to reflect on tremendous

successes. A few overdid it.

Joint Task Force-Fiery Vigil, 8 June-1 July

91

Anne Bazzell, now of the PACAF history

office, wrote this fine accounting of the Fiery

Vigil task force while she was the historian of the

834th Airlift Division, Hickam Air Force Base,

Hawaii. It is a detailed report of the airlift effort

for Fiery Vigil and contains comprehensive statistics and results of the Military Airlift

Command’s efforts in support of the task force.

This report, together with the JULLS reports and

the Fiery Vigil SITREPS, provides a comprehensive documentation of Fiery Vigil.

Photographs and Videotapes

Nearly every Ash Warrior has an extensive

collection of pictures and videos from the disaster. The base librarian at Clark was a Filipina

who was still there after the smoke cleared. She

sponsored a photo contest in the library as a

diversion for the Ash Warriors. Some submissions were nothing short of spectacular and several are included in this book. Many Ash

Warriors have personal collections of the contest

winners, and most Ash Warriors have extensive

photos they took themselves. Combat photographers were at Clark throughout the ordeal, so a

bonanza of pictures, both still and moving, is

available at the Defense Visual Inform a t i o n

Center. It is likely that every person who was at

Clark or evacuated from Clark has either one or

both of two excellent television presentations

that were shown on national networks. One was

produced by Nova and the other by National

Geographic.

146

T h e A s h W a r r i o r s
Aerial view of Clark Air Base runways

3rd Combat Support Group Headquarters

View from the control tower Clark Air Base control tower
Aerial view of the impending eruption

The wait is over Fiery warning
Acacia Trees-Before...

Magnificent acacia trees lined many streets in the housing areas and other large areas

of the base.

Acacia Trees-After...

Wet ash fall devastated the acacia trees. Incredibly, all had fully recovered by 1998.
A picturesque 1.2 mile-wide lake in 1998 was once Pinatubo’s fiery crater.

All color disappears as the ash decends

Abacan walking bridge
Ash driven by the typhoon

Officers’ Club parking lot

Chambers Hall in 1998 A frightened child receives comfort
An original picture of the Fort Stotsenberg entrance. 

The Parade Field in 1998. Note the date 1902 barely visible after the ash fall.