In late 1992 my squadron was embarked in USS Kitty Hawk, moored in Singapore for a few days of liberty, and were expecting to soon make our way through the Mallaca Straits and head for the Arabian Gulf to assume the task of "duty carrier". When I say "my squadron", I mean I was in Command. I was in a position that I had literally worked my entire Naval career to achieve. Operational command is the goal of almost all newly minted Naval Aviators. To lead men (and now women) as the Commanding Officer of a squadron of men and machines was the epitome. It just didn't get any better than that. And although I was lucky enough to continue my career to be selected for sequential and then major command, nothing ever measured up to leading my first squadron. Nothing.
Desert storm was fresh in our memory. The Gulf was still in turmoil. Operating in that relatively small environment was fraught with danger and difficulty. Not only was seaspace and airspace limited, there was a pretty significant threat emanating from Iran to the North, who definitely didn't appreciate our presence, and Saddam Hussain's Iraq to the West, who still provided a formidable air threat. So it would take some preparation if we were going to operate successfully. To that end, as we prepared to sail West, a small contingent of Battle Group representatives departed for Bahrain and 5th Fleet to act as liaisons and conduct preps for our arrival. Among this group was my Operations Officer, who I would miss but was glad he was going to ensure the squadron was up to speed upon arrival.
After a few days at sea a message arrived that would change the complexion of our deployment for the next month or so and particularly challenge the Black Knights. Instead of proceeding directly to the Arabian Gulf as planned, we were directed to alter course and make best speed to arrive off the coast of Somalia to support Operation Restore Hope. When most people think of Somalia, if they think of it at all, they remember the infamous "Black Hawk Down" incident in August, 1993 when a bunch of our Special Operators were trapped in an ambush and several were killed. But it started almost a year earlier after a confluence of a terrible drought that caused a famine and a the emergence of a dreadful dictator named Aidid. In December 1992, in one of his last acts as President, George H.W. Bush proposed to the U.N. that United States combat troops lead an intervention force to Somalia to stabilize the country. The U.N. accepted this offer and 25,000 U.S. troops were deployed to Somalia. The Kitty Hawk Battle Group was sent to support this deployment. As part of the deployment, an Amphibious Ready Group (ARG) consisting of USS Tripoli (LPH-10), USS Juneau (LPD-10) and USS Rushmore (LSD-47) with the 15th Marine Expeditionary Unit embarked was situated off the coast to conduct an amphibious landing.
As we got closer, it became obvious that Somalia was a "dog's breakfast". In other words...a real mess. Upon arrival we learned that the most of the Air Wing operations would consist of overflights to support ground operations and command and control operations from our E-2C aircraft. But the helo squadron would get up close and personal conducting logistics support to the Marines ashore and be on alert for any combat search and rescue operations that might be required. So suddenly instead of conducting routine and expected plane guard, ASW and logistics operations as had been done by previous helo squadrons in the Gulf, we were thrust into a brand new location, supporting a brand new operation, in what could accurately called a hostile environment.
During a meeting with the Battle Group Commander it was determined that we would send a two aircraft detachment forward from Kitty Hawk, who would usually remain about 80-100 miles off-shore. But the question was where would we go. As a carrier based squadron we were not remotely equipped to operate in an austere environment in the field with the Marines. And from what we had heard, Mogadishu was definitely austere. We would find out just how bad it was as we started operating a few days later.
So after a lot of back and forth it was finally determined that our aircraft, crews, maintenance team, and equipment would relocate to one of the ships in the ARG. Understand that moving a detachment forward isn't a trivial matter. It includes a lot of logistics to move the people and machines. It also requires a lot of space, connectivity, accomodations, etc. After more back and forth and because most of the Marines had moved ashore, we were directed to proceed to USS Juneau for forward basing. Sending detachments out usually isn't a big deal for a helo squadron, but that is when we knew where we were going and what we were going to do. In this case we knew neither very confidently so I decided to lead the detachment. The usual course of action is to have one of the Department Heads assume Det Officer in Charge but in this case I was very nervous regarding all the unknowns so decided to go myself. Some would say that was overkill, but at the time it seemed right.
It was thought that the Juneau had plenty of room, the Marines stationed aboard had moved ashore, the flight deck could accomodate our two helos, and it would be a good staging platform. She was anchored a few miles off Mogadishu along with Tripoli. So off we went. The Juneau was very welcoming, they bent over backwards to accomodate us, the Captain made sure all our needs were met, and shortly after arrival we began flight ops.
On our first flight into what used to be the U.S. Embassy in Mogadishu, it was very evident of just how bad the situation was. There was still and Embassy compound, but the Embassy itself was just concrete walls. Everything had been stripped. Everything. As we made low level runs to the airport and Embassy, we could tell that the whole city had been devastated. Buildings blown up, people wandering aimlessly, and danger from Aidid and his henchmen at every corner. The Marines had set up shop at the airport and had brought in a mobile control tower to get the operation running again. It was very rudimentary but after a day or so large aircraft with relief supplies started arriving. Everyone who operated either on the ground or in the air was locked and loaded. The truth was that we just didn't know what we were going to encounter so better to be safe than sorry.
Our operation for the first couple of days consisted of carrying people, ammunition and supplies between Mogadishu, Kismayo and Baidoa. We flew some very long days and carried a ton of stuff. Sometime during this period the operational commander decided that they need some aerial photography of the city and we got tagged to do it. So I found myself with some Navy photographers flying around the city at about 2000 feet taking video. We had very little intelligence about what the threat was and it was determined that there wasn't a significant threat to aircraft so that is why I got cleared to do it. But there was a bit of a pucker facter as I flew around the city. As we were doing our logistics mission, we also continually had an aircraft and crew on alert to respond to any Combat Search and Rescue (CSAR) requirements. Basically, if any of our Marine or Navy aircraft went down for any reason, we'd launch to pick them up. Fortunately we weren't needed.
Remember my Ops Officer who had departed for Bahrain? Shortly after the group that he was with had arrived in the Gulf and started working on coordination, they learned that we had been diverted to Somalia. Some in their group decided to stay where they were and wait for the ship, but he and a few others decided to try and get to us. His odyssy included hitching rides on various cars, trucks, and planes of various forces, but he finally found himself in a C-130 (I seem to remember it was German Air Force) landing at Mogadishu Airport. But then what to do. Lo and behold he looked up and saw an H-60 flying overhead enroute to the Embassy pad a few miles away. So he got yet another ride in the back of a pickup with a bunch of Marines. They gave him a flack jacket and told him to stay down but he made it and when the next Black Knight helo arrived, he was waiting. To say that we were surprised that he was there was a very big understatement. But it was great that he was there and I was particularly happy as he was really my right hand man. Having him there made things a lot easier for me.
After a few days, we were told that Juneau was being tasked to proceed down to the vicinity of Kismayo for some reason so we'd need to find a new home. So it was determined that we would move over to Tripoli. If you've been reading at all you might have had a little fun reading "Ship's Company" several weeks ago. You can read it here. It's the story, or should I say sad story, of my time aboard the USS Tripoli doing a disassociated tour as a young LCDR. As you can imagine, I had some trepidation about returning. Not because anyone from my days aboard would be there, but because I knew what to expect. Anyway, we hopped over (the ships were anchored about 1000 yeards apart) with the two aircraft soon to be followed by a USMC H-53 with the maintenance troops and our gear. Upon arrival, we found a hubbub of activity. Most of the Marine aircraft, their crew, and all the grunts had moved ashore but Tripoli was being used as a logistics base because Mogadishu was a nightmare. So there was a lot of coming and going. Once we got the aircraft shutdown, folded and stowed it became obvious that the Battle Group staff hadn't really done much to coordinate our arrival. Tripoli wasn't interested or prepared to support a couple of aircraft from the carrier and we were sort of on our own to find a couple of spaces (rooms) to set up operations. Since the Marines were gone it wasn't too difficult, but an added complication was that President Bush was going to visit about a week later and the ship was freaking out. So we were just another pain in their ass.
We arrived aboard Tripoli on Dec 24th. So the next day we got an unusual tasking. We were Santa's sleigh! A guy in a Santa suit (I have no idea where they got it) showed up at the aircraft along with a huge amount of goodies to be distributed to the troops ashore. So off we went. We made a lot of stops and all seemed to appreciate it.
After a couple of days the Tripoli had had enough of us so when Juneau returned and assumed her position at anchorage again, off we went. We got directed to return to Juneau and were happy to do it. We continued to be busy for several days moving a lot of material and people and maintaining an alert aircraft for CSAR. And then one night I was in the ship's command center when a call came over the net from Kitty Hawk. It seems that Saddam Husaim had kicked up his heels again and the U.S. was going to react. By react, I mean a little thing called Operation Desert Fox in which we launched a couple of strikes on some of his critical facilities. So the ship was being redirected to make best speed for the Arabian Gulf to participate in the operation. Like...right away. So there we were. It was dark, the Kitty Hawk was about 60 miles away and opening, and we needed to catch up. To say that the next few hours were a clusterf**k would be an understatement. We immediately started gathering everything up, getting it organized, and launching for home. I think we were off the deck in about 45 minutes from the first call. An H-53 was being launched from the beach to come get our guys and gear and take them back to Kitty Hawk. We were worried about catching her, but the reality was that they weren't going to leave us behind...I don't think they were anyway.
After we got back and everyone and everything was accounted for there was a lot of adrenalin running. I was really proud of how everyone responded over the course of several days in making the detachment a success. An added benefit was that we learned a lot as we embarked on further dets as we arrived in the Gulf. I also like to think we had a small part to play in helping some folks in desperate circumstances. Operation Restore Hope was truly a humanitarian effort and I think it made a difference. Of course, things deteriorated and later in 1993 it turned ugly, but in the beginning it was a good and humane effort.
After a few days at sea a message arrived that would change the complexion of our deployment for the next month or so and particularly challenge the Black Knights. Instead of proceeding directly to the Arabian Gulf as planned, we were directed to alter course and make best speed to arrive off the coast of Somalia to support Operation Restore Hope. When most people think of Somalia, if they think of it at all, they remember the infamous "Black Hawk Down" incident in August, 1993 when a bunch of our Special Operators were trapped in an ambush and several were killed. But it started almost a year earlier after a confluence of a terrible drought that caused a famine and a the emergence of a dreadful dictator named Aidid. In December 1992, in one of his last acts as President, George H.W. Bush proposed to the U.N. that United States combat troops lead an intervention force to Somalia to stabilize the country. The U.N. accepted this offer and 25,000 U.S. troops were deployed to Somalia. The Kitty Hawk Battle Group was sent to support this deployment. As part of the deployment, an Amphibious Ready Group (ARG) consisting of USS Tripoli (LPH-10), USS Juneau (LPD-10) and USS Rushmore (LSD-47) with the 15th Marine Expeditionary Unit embarked was situated off the coast to conduct an amphibious landing. 
As we got closer, it became obvious that Somalia was a "dog's breakfast". In other words...a real mess. Upon arrival we learned that the most of the Air Wing operations would consist of overflights to support ground operations and command and control operations from our E-2C aircraft. But the helo squadron would get up close and personal conducting logistics support to the Marines ashore and be on alert for any combat search and rescue operations that might be required. So suddenly instead of conducting routine and expected plane guard, ASW and logistics operations as had been done by previous helo squadrons in the Gulf, we were thrust into a brand new location, supporting a brand new operation, in what could accurately called a hostile environment.
During a meeting with the Battle Group Commander it was determined that we would send a two aircraft detachment forward from Kitty Hawk, who would usually remain about 80-100 miles off-shore. But the question was where would we go. As a carrier based squadron we were not remotely equipped to operate in an austere environment in the field with the Marines. And from what we had heard, Mogadishu was definitely austere. We would find out just how bad it was as we started operating a few days later.
So after a lot of back and forth it was finally determined that our aircraft, crews, maintenance team, and equipment would relocate to one of the ships in the ARG. Understand that moving a detachment forward isn't a trivial matter. It includes a lot of logistics to move the people and machines. It also requires a lot of space, connectivity, accomodations, etc. After more back and forth and because most of the Marines had moved ashore, we were directed to proceed to USS Juneau for forward basing. Sending detachments out usually isn't a big deal for a helo squadron, but that is when we knew where we were going and what we were going to do. In this case we knew neither very confidently so I decided to lead the detachment. The usual course of action is to have one of the Department Heads assume Det Officer in Charge but in this case I was very nervous regarding all the unknowns so decided to go myself. Some would say that was overkill, but at the time it seemed right.
It was thought that the Juneau had plenty of room, the Marines stationed aboard had moved ashore, the flight deck could accomodate our two helos, and it would be a good staging platform. She was anchored a few miles off Mogadishu along with Tripoli. So off we went. The Juneau was very welcoming, they bent over backwards to accomodate us, the Captain made sure all our needs were met, and shortly after arrival we began flight ops.
On our first flight into what used to be the U.S. Embassy in Mogadishu, it was very evident of just how bad the situation was. There was still and Embassy compound, but the Embassy itself was just concrete walls. Everything had been stripped. Everything. As we made low level runs to the airport and Embassy, we could tell that the whole city had been devastated. Buildings blown up, people wandering aimlessly, and danger from Aidid and his henchmen at every corner. The Marines had set up shop at the airport and had brought in a mobile control tower to get the operation running again. It was very rudimentary but after a day or so large aircraft with relief supplies started arriving. Everyone who operated either on the ground or in the air was locked and loaded. The truth was that we just didn't know what we were going to encounter so better to be safe than sorry.
Our operation for the first couple of days consisted of carrying people, ammunition and supplies between Mogadishu, Kismayo and Baidoa. We flew some very long days and carried a ton of stuff. Sometime during this period the operational commander decided that they need some aerial photography of the city and we got tagged to do it. So I found myself with some Navy photographers flying around the city at about 2000 feet taking video. We had very little intelligence about what the threat was and it was determined that there wasn't a significant threat to aircraft so that is why I got cleared to do it. But there was a bit of a pucker facter as I flew around the city. As we were doing our logistics mission, we also continually had an aircraft and crew on alert to respond to any Combat Search and Rescue (CSAR) requirements. Basically, if any of our Marine or Navy aircraft went down for any reason, we'd launch to pick them up. Fortunately we weren't needed.
Remember my Ops Officer who had departed for Bahrain? Shortly after the group that he was with had arrived in the Gulf and started working on coordination, they learned that we had been diverted to Somalia. Some in their group decided to stay where they were and wait for the ship, but he and a few others decided to try and get to us. His odyssy included hitching rides on various cars, trucks, and planes of various forces, but he finally found himself in a C-130 (I seem to remember it was German Air Force) landing at Mogadishu Airport. But then what to do. Lo and behold he looked up and saw an H-60 flying overhead enroute to the Embassy pad a few miles away. So he got yet another ride in the back of a pickup with a bunch of Marines. They gave him a flack jacket and told him to stay down but he made it and when the next Black Knight helo arrived, he was waiting. To say that we were surprised that he was there was a very big understatement. But it was great that he was there and I was particularly happy as he was really my right hand man. Having him there made things a lot easier for me.
After a few days, we were told that Juneau was being tasked to proceed down to the vicinity of Kismayo for some reason so we'd need to find a new home. So it was determined that we would move over to Tripoli. If you've been reading at all you might have had a little fun reading "Ship's Company" several weeks ago. You can read it here. It's the story, or should I say sad story, of my time aboard the USS Tripoli doing a disassociated tour as a young LCDR. As you can imagine, I had some trepidation about returning. Not because anyone from my days aboard would be there, but because I knew what to expect. Anyway, we hopped over (the ships were anchored about 1000 yeards apart) with the two aircraft soon to be followed by a USMC H-53 with the maintenance troops and our gear. Upon arrival, we found a hubbub of activity. Most of the Marine aircraft, their crew, and all the grunts had moved ashore but Tripoli was being used as a logistics base because Mogadishu was a nightmare. So there was a lot of coming and going. Once we got the aircraft shutdown, folded and stowed it became obvious that the Battle Group staff hadn't really done much to coordinate our arrival. Tripoli wasn't interested or prepared to support a couple of aircraft from the carrier and we were sort of on our own to find a couple of spaces (rooms) to set up operations. Since the Marines were gone it wasn't too difficult, but an added complication was that President Bush was going to visit about a week later and the ship was freaking out. So we were just another pain in their ass.
We arrived aboard Tripoli on Dec 24th. So the next day we got an unusual tasking. We were Santa's sleigh! A guy in a Santa suit (I have no idea where they got it) showed up at the aircraft along with a huge amount of goodies to be distributed to the troops ashore. So off we went. We made a lot of stops and all seemed to appreciate it.
After a couple of days the Tripoli had had enough of us so when Juneau returned and assumed her position at anchorage again, off we went. We got directed to return to Juneau and were happy to do it. We continued to be busy for several days moving a lot of material and people and maintaining an alert aircraft for CSAR. And then one night I was in the ship's command center when a call came over the net from Kitty Hawk. It seems that Saddam Husaim had kicked up his heels again and the U.S. was going to react. By react, I mean a little thing called Operation Desert Fox in which we launched a couple of strikes on some of his critical facilities. So the ship was being redirected to make best speed for the Arabian Gulf to participate in the operation. Like...right away. So there we were. It was dark, the Kitty Hawk was about 60 miles away and opening, and we needed to catch up. To say that the next few hours were a clusterf**k would be an understatement. We immediately started gathering everything up, getting it organized, and launching for home. I think we were off the deck in about 45 minutes from the first call. An H-53 was being launched from the beach to come get our guys and gear and take them back to Kitty Hawk. We were worried about catching her, but the reality was that they weren't going to leave us behind...I don't think they were anyway.
After we got back and everyone and everything was accounted for there was a lot of adrenalin running. I was really proud of how everyone responded over the course of several days in making the detachment a success. An added benefit was that we learned a lot as we embarked on further dets as we arrived in the Gulf. I also like to think we had a small part to play in helping some folks in desperate circumstances. Operation Restore Hope was truly a humanitarian effort and I think it made a difference. Of course, things deteriorated and later in 1993 it turned ugly, but in the beginning it was a good and humane effort.
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