Afterburners by William Robert Stanek Read Free Book Online Page A

others downright heartbroken. We didn’t say much in those quiet, tense, and precious few minutes we had together. Soon I was saying goodbye.
        Then I gathered my gear. I started to make my way out the door, when Captain Wilson found me.
        “Stay here in ops,” he advised, “looks like the time schedule might be pushed back.”
        I looked to Katie, and she looked at me. A delay just meant more tense minutes of waiting.
        14:00 came and went. Nothing. The official word had not come as expected. At 14:30 a meeting was called and we were told that unfortunately we’d have to do this whole thing again tomorrow, but at least we could spend another evening with our families.
        I had a few things to finish up, and then I went home. Unfortunately Katie had to work until 15:30 and couldn’t get off, not that she didn’t try; they just wouldn’t let her. She was crying when she called work and afterwards when she hung up the phone. I told her it was okay, but really it wasn’t. We spent fifteen short minutes together and then Katie left for work.
        Afterward I packed a few more things, which included a framed picture of Katie that had stood on my computer table. I dinked around with the car some more, but I still couldn’t get it to start.
        Later I watched the news. CNN showed that NATO forces were landing in Turkey. The Turkish people didn’t want NATO there and they were quite vocal about it. Turkey was our destination. The unrest added more doubt to the picture and was the obvious reason for the delay.
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
Thursday, 17 January 1991
     
     
     
    I heard a knock on the door at 03:00, went back to bed afterward. One of the crews had been alerted, but not mine.
        At 04:30, the phone rang. I was awake anyway. I had to report to squadron ops ASAP. Saying goodbye a second time wasn’t any easier than the first. Seeing Katie cry again tore my heart into tiny little pieces. She wasn’t as strong as she had been yesterday, and I didn’t blame her.
        I headed over to squadron ops. Captain Willie told me we had to “bag drag” to Ramstein. I never expected to go. After we arrived by crew bus at Ramstein, I called Katie and told her I didn’t expect to be going today. That was at 10:00. At 11:00, one short hour later, I was boarding a C-5 bound for Turkey and war in the Persian Gulf.
        We completed the journey without mishap. Our C-5 Galaxy touched down on a semi-busy airstrip in Turkey. Its cargo: war supplies, a small group of combat crewers and a number of ops support personnel. Sunset spread across the Turkish skyline in a myriad of oranges and reds. The earth raced flat and clean to distant mountains. The air was cool and a lot milder than any of us expected.
        A support bus was waiting to take us to the airport complex where we would process through customs. In the middle of exiting the plane, we were greeted with one of the rudest welcomes a modern war zone can give: an Alarm Red.
        None of us had our chem gear ready or close. We scrambled like mad dogs to the piles of gear half stacked in the rear of the aircraft and half strewn on the tarmac. My heart pounded in my ears as I searched frantically for my gear. The other crewers ran around the tarmac just as frantically. To make matters worse, the area was darkened during the alarm in case of incoming enemy fighters.
        By the time I found my chem mask and donned my gear, I knew I was a walking dead man. You didn’t have minutes when chems hit; you had mere seconds. The things neurotoxins and chemical agents do to a man no living person should ever have to see, but I had seen the aftermath of such attacks. It had been part of our briefings. Saddam Hussein’s army had used chemical weapons extensively in the past and our intel said he would use them again.
        When the All Clear sounded after what seemed an eternity of waiting, there was never a